Tumgik
#james conrad x reader
sarahscribbles · 2 months
Text
𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞
Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟒𝐤
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭
𝐀𝐍: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝, 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞. 𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞.
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧)
𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“We’re lost.” 
You’ve known this simple fact for over half an hour. The Vietnamese jungle around you is lush and sticky and alive and, while it could easily melt into one neverending green space, you know you passed this same clump of trees fifteen minutes ago; you had the good sense to mark the spot with the lid of your water tank when you last passed. 
Up ahead, James doesn’t even slow, doesn’t so much as pause at the note of irritation in your voice, only continues pushing through the low-lying trees with purpose. If you didn’t already know you were lost, his quiet display of confidence would easily have you fooled. 
“We aren’t lost,” he replies shortly. It’s the most he’s spoken to you in the past half hour. 
He flicks away an errant bug that’s landed on the tanned skin of his forearm, but still doesn’t turn to look at you. It’s inconsequential, but it makes a senseless rage bubble violently within you, enough that you seriously consider lobbing your water tank at his pretty blonde head. 
You have to settle for scowling unseen at his broad back. Both of you should have been back at base camp forty minutes ago, but here you are still fumbling through the undergrowth with this infuriating man and his stupidly tight shirt. 
An irritated escapes you at the same time a cacophony of bird song sounds from the skies above. You recognise it as Parakeets, Long Tailed and Alexandrine. A sign that you’re at least close to the camp.
“Of course I’m the one who gets stuck with a tracker who can’t find his way out of a fucking forest,” you goad him.
It’s not intentional, not really, but you’re exhausted and hot and it’s been hours since you last ate. 
And, maybe, some small part of you is scared that you won’t find the camp before nightfall, but hell will freeze over before you admit that to James Conrad. 
The man already thinks you’re a runt. 
James still doesn’t stop or outwardly acknowledge your taunting, but even from where you are behind him you can see the roll of his shoulders and clench of his jaw that signals his agitation. 
You’re treading on very thin ice. 
“We aren’t far,” James replies in a tight voice. “Base camp is roughly four miles from here.”
It’s this that tips you over the edge - his maddening stubbornness that’s going to lead you both straight into the mouth of yet another one of this island’s almost comically large beasts. 
“For fuck’s sake, will you just admit that you have no idea where we are or where you’re going!” You raise your voice and come to a complete standstill in the tiny clearing. 
It has the desired effect. 
James finally stops in his tracks and swiftly turns to face you. Irritation and annoyance are etched into every line of his handsome face, and you don’t miss the way his hands ball into fists by his sides. 
You catch sight of the prominent veins on the backs of his hands and your traitorous heart leaps within your chest. You hate that it isn’t out of fear. 
“Where should we be heading, if you’re so sure?” He doesn’t raise his voice, but there’s no doubt that he’s angry. 
His piercing blue eyes are fixed intently on yours, demanding an answer that you can’t give him. Even if you did know the right way back to camp, the sight of him in that sweat drenched shirt clinging almost erotically to his defined chest would make words difficult. 
You swallow quickly and lick your lips, fighting to keep your eyes from running over the bulge of his biceps. The man could likely toss you over his shoulder like you were a sack of flour; could very likely toss you from position to position…
No.
“I don’t know!” You force yourself to snap out of it, but even you can hear the shakiness to your voice. “I don’t know how to get back, but this is the second time we’ve come through here! I threw the lid of my water tank right there the last time we passed. You might not like me, James, but we are lost!”
He studies you silently for a moment, confusion sinking into his face as he turns your words over in his head. For second, you fear that you’ve really pissed him off, but when he finally takes a few short steps toward you, there’s something that could almost be described as humour lighting up his eyes.
“Does that explain why you’ve been such a monumental pain in the ass since we arrived?” he asks, and you swear you see a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 
You let out a disbelieving laugh at his audacity. “Me? You could be a character study on being a pain in the ass!”
He’s smiling fully at you now, as though he’s privy to some secret that you aren’t. “I’ve been nothing but warm and welcoming,” he replies easily, and now he’s standing even closer to you, so close that you catch the faint musky scent of his aftershave. 
You can only stare wordlessly at him. His eyes are twinkling and they seem softer, like somehow you amuse him. 
Like he’s fond of you. 
“I think you seriously need to relearn the meaning of “rolling out the welcome wagon”,” you say quietly, because it’s getting hard to breathe properly with how close he is to you. 
His smile grows as he closes the remaining distance between you both, until you’re backed up against the tree trunk and have to tilt your head to look at him. There’s something achingly tender in the way he looks at you, and you swear your heart stops when he gently takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger. 
“I’m teasing, darling,” he says softly. 
Darling. It makes a pleasant golden warmth seep through your veins. 
James’ eyes scan your face slowly like he’s seeing you for the first time. He’s so wonderfully close to you that it would be only too easy to reach out for him, to run your hands along the firm planes of his chest and his broad shoulders the way you’ve often dreamed about. 
But you don’t. 
Out of fear of ruining whatever is happening between you both, you hold back, letting James take the lead. You’ll happily follow. 
The soft pad of his thumb runs over your bottom lip, making you grateful for the tree at your back holding you up, and you watch his eyes dart between your lips and your eyes. 
“Tell me to kiss you. Please,” he murmurs, letting his thumb trace your cheek. 
Your heart is beating wildly in your chest, as though screaming out for him, and you don’t hesitate in granting him his request. 
“Kiss me, James.” 
His lips are surprisingly soft when they press against yours, like he wants to savour every last second. He cups your face with two large hands, holding you firmly in place as his tongue slips into your mouth. 
You feel high on the feel of him and finally allow yourself to wrap your arms around his shoulders. James smiles against your lips and presses more firmly against you until you aren’t sure where he ends and you start. Suddenly, the tiredness and hunger and uncomfortable stickiness of the Vietnamese jungle doesn’t matter; all that does is that James Conrad is kissing you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. 
One hand eventually drops from your face to curl around your knee, pulling your leg up and around his waist. You feel the hardened length of him through his jeans and when he grinds his hips against yours…
“Fuck,” you groan, letting your head fall against the tree while he moves to suck a bruise into your collarbone. “Don’t be a tease.” 
He lifts his head to press another slow kiss to your waiting lips, and lets his forehead rest heavily against yours. “I have no intention of teasing you, sweet girl. I want this just as much as you do, but not here.”
You whine, but it only makes him laugh. “I have a very comfortable bed back at camp. Surely, you would prefer that?” 
Wrapping your arms tighter around his neck, you pretend to pout. “Fine, but that brings us back to the original issue of you not knowing where the hell we are.” 
James playfully squeezes your hips. “An hour will have us there, but every minute we go over is a minute I spend making it up to you. How does that sound?” 
You grin and pull him in for another kiss. “It sounds perfect.”
282 notes · View notes
cleo-fox · 1 month
Text
Wildest Dreams
Summary: It's nearing ten o’clock at night and James Conrad is standing on your doorstep.
Pairing: James Conrad x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex (female receiving), friends to lovers, mutual pining.
A/N: Sometimes, you're having a conversation with @sarahscribbles and something she says triggers your latent James Conrad brainrot and words happen. Saz, this is dedicated to you. 😘 (Also, everyone go read her stuff).
Tumblr media
It's nearing ten o’clock at night and James Conrad is standing on your doorstep.
You didn’t even think he was in the country—last you’d heard, he was somewhere in Vietnam. Not that he was exactly keeping you apprised of his movements. The nature of his work means that he turns up or calls unexpectedly and sends letters inconsistently. It’s something that you’ve grown used to over the years—you’ve had no other choice, really.
The question, though, of whether or not you’ll be waiting for him is not really a question so much as it is an inevitability. Of course you will. You always will. Like it or not, the man is your weakness, your Achilles heel, the crack in your armor.
Your hands shake as you fumble with the latch and chain and open the door.
There’s a moment where you catch his first, unguarded expression—a flicker of relief, so quick you might miss it if you didn’t know him as well as you do. It strikes you as odd—you’d expect him to be glad to see you, perhaps, but relieved? Not necessarily. Especially not after the last time you’d seen him—that disastrous Christmas two years ago when wine and seasonal sadness had prompted you to say more than you intended about your feelings for him.
He’d said you were better off as friends.
It still stings, even thinking of it now. You haven’t spoken of it since. He hadn’t been back since then, either—that in and of itself wasn’t necessarily unusual for him, but you couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to his absence this time around.
Before you can think about whether it’s a good idea, you’re stepping forward to embrace him. You always forget how tall he is, how he takes up space and towers over you, how that makes you feel small and safe. He still smells the same—Ivory soap with a hint of cloves and a little bit of musk—and your name still sounds too good in that deep purr of a baritone.
“It’s good to see you,” he says into your ear.
Is it just you or is he holding you awfully tight?
It’s probably just you. Isn’t that the sad theme of all of this? Just you with the feelings, just you with the broken heart. Just you, secretly pining for him since university and having it all come to nothing. Just you. Alone as always.
“You too,” you say, even though seeing him makes all the old bruises and scars on your heart ache with a renewed fervor. You release him and gesture to your door. “Come in.”
You notice a cut on his left cheek, a small, yellowing bruise blooming around the edges of it. It must be a few days old. He carries a duffle bag slung over his back—a huge, beat up leather thing he’s had since university. He sets it on the floor as you lock up behind him.
“What are you doing here?” spills out of your mouth before you can think about how it sounds, despite the fact that your eyes are drinking him in like he’s water in a desert. “I thought you were in Vietnam.”
“Pacific,” he says. There’s a slight shadow in his expression, like there’s something he doesn’t want to say. “Just got back this evening.”
“Do you want tea?” It’s the only thing you can think to do.
“Please,” he says.
You don’t need to ask him how he takes it because you know. English Breakfast, splash of cream, no sugar. You could make it in your sleep.
You busy yourself in the kitchen, fishing out a packet of shortbread biscuits from the back of your cupboard while the kettle boils. Out of habit, you take out the pair of chipped mugs you’ve had since university. You’d unintentionally taken one from the refectory during a particularly sleepless week in the middle of exams and been too embarrassed to return it. He’d teased you about it at first, but he had then stolen his own mug the following week in what he described as “solidarity with your crimes.” When you moved into your first apartment, he’d given you his as a housewarming gift.
“This could really hurt my career if they found out about it,” he’d said solemnly as his eyes danced with barely repressed laughter. “I thought it would be best to give it to you for safe keeping.”
You’d rolled your eyes and laughed at him then, but you always wrapped them extra carefully when you moved—as though by keeping those mugs whole, you could also keep Conrad safe.
The faint ghost of a smile that you catch when you bring the tea and biscuits out to the living room warms your heart and gives you a little spark of hope. Perhaps all isn’t lost. Maybe things can go back to the way they were before that disaster of a Christmas.
You set the mugs and shortbread down on the table and take your seat next to him on the couch.
Your tea is still too hot, but you pick it up anyway, just to give your hands something to do. Maybe the slight sting of the hot ceramic against your palms will help you keep you grounded.
“I presume you’re not telling me where in the Pacific for a reason,” you say.
He nods. “Correct.”
He looks tired, you think. There’s a tightness in his jaw that’s new, a distant look in his eyes that seems different than his usual brand of stoicism. You want to be annoyed by his lack of detail, but the weariness makes you pause.
“Are you all right?” you ask.
His laugh is short and humorless. “As I ever was.” 
You tilt your head. “That’s not really an answer.”
He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “It was a difficult job.” He pauses for a moment, his gaze sliding to the wall across the room, to a landscape painting you’d found at a thrift shop. “I didn't know if I’d make it back, to be quite honest.”
You’ve never seen him like this before and it’s somewhere beyond disorienting. Conrad is ruthlessly capable and appropriately confident; the idea of something being beyond his skill set is baffling as it is unsettling.
“I’m glad you did,” you say softly.
You expect him to give you a slight half smile, perhaps nudge his shoulder against yours. But instead, his gaze remains fixed on the middle distance, an odd, melancholy sort of cast to his blue eyes.
“You don’t really seem like you’re all right,” you say gently.
There at last is that little half smile that you were expecting. Somehow, it’s less comforting than you thought it would be.
“There’s a certain amount of clarity that you get from an experience like that,” he says evenly. “You're forced to confront a lot of things. Choices you’ve made. People you’ve hurt.”
You think he’s referring to what happened two years ago and you try not to flinch. He can’t know that you still think about that, that you’re still hurting. That you haven’t stopped loving him, even though you’ve pretended that you have.
He pauses for another moment, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “In the moments when I thought I wasn’t coming back, the only thing I could think about was you.”
Air vanishes from your lungs. You’re afraid to even hope, as if even acknowledging the possibility would jinx it.
“What do you mean by that?” you ask, your voice barely louder than a whisper.
He finally looks at you and your heart creeps into your throat. “I was not entirely honest with you at Christmas.”
You realize that you’re holding your breath, but you can’t help it.
“I thought that by turning you away, I was keeping you safe,” he says. “I thought by hiding the truth, I was saving you from a lot of pain.”
Your heart is pounding. You lick your lips. If he means what you hope he means, you need to hear him say it—you can’t believe it otherwise. 
“And what is the truth, James?” Your voice wobbles just a little bit.
His gaze is locked on you, infinite as the stars. “The truth is that I’ve been in love with you for years,” he says softly. “And when I thought I wasn’t coming back, all I could think about was how much I regretted not telling you.”
In the moments leading up to this, it felt as though time was slowing. This is the moment, though, where everything stops. In this moment, it’s just the two of you—Conrad with those devastating blue eyes that peer right into your soul and you with your broken heart and wounded pride.
He wanted you all this time.
You raise a shaking hand to wipe away the tear that’s somehow escaped the corner of your eye.
All this time.
“You have every right to be angry with me.” His voice is low and soft, just for you to hear. “And I understand if you need time. But I came here tonight to tell you that if you still want me, I’m yours.”
You are feeling entirely too much. You want to kiss him. You want to scream at him. You want to hold him and never let go.
All this time.
“James, I—” Your voice catches in your throat and you take a deep breath, fighting back a sob that’s bubbling in your chest. You set your tea back down on the table. Your hands are shaking. 
“I—I don’t even know where to start. I—” Your voice catches again on that sob in your chest. You pause again to collect yourself. You open your mouth to speak and a strangled sort of laugh tumbles from your lips instead.
“God.” You wipe another stray tear from your cheek. “You’re such a fucking idiot. I mean, not just for making all those assumptions about what was best for me, but also just—” Your voice catches again and you pause. “I never stopped wanting you.”
The corner of his mouth twitches slightly and there’s a flicker of something like hope in his eyes. “Does that mean you’ve forgiven me?”
You take a shaky breath. “Yes and no.” You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. “You should have asked me if safe was what I wanted, instead of just making that decision for me.”
He nods. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing is safe, James,” you continue. “It’s an illusion at best. You could live a perfectly dull life in the suburbs and be hit by a bus on your way to your perfectly dull job.” You pause, weighing the words that you want to say next. “I never wanted safe,” you say, your voice catching again in your throat. “I just wanted you.”
There’s a moment of quiet and Conrad looks well and truly chastened.
You take another deep breath and reach for his hand. The look that he gives you then—like he’s afraid to hope that youstill want him—is almost enough to make you abandon what you want to say next and kiss him on the spot. 
“I know what I want,” you say quietly. “I understand the risks. You don’t need to throw yourself on the sword to protect me and you certainly don’t need to make those decisions for me. I need you to understand that if this is going to work.”
He nods. “I do.”
“Okay.” You exhale. “Will you shut up and kiss me now?”
The look of relief on his face is like sunshine.
“Come here,” he says softly, pulling you into his lap, your legs framing his hips. He cups your face in his hands, looking at you like you’re something wonderful, like he can’t believe you’re his.
Then he takes a deep breath and finally closes the gap between you.
You’ve waited years for this kiss. From the early days of your friendship coalescing around late nights and stale coffee and jokes that are only funny at two o’clock in the morning to the agony of watching him leave for basic training and then Vietnam and god knows where else. This kiss was never guaranteed—and in part, that’s why it’s so good. It could have been taken from you by any number of dangers or even just Conrad’s own foolish need to protect you.
But you finally have it and it’s everything you had thought it would be.
His mouth is slow and soft against yours, his tongue moving in a gentle caress that makes you feel every year of waiting and yearning and hoping. You mourn the years lost, but you can’t help but savor how perfect it feels as a result. Your hands map the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones as your tongue traces the soft line of his lips. You want to remember every part of this moment—every part of him. 
It’s a few minutes later when you part, both of you slightly breathless. You rest your forehead against his.
“I shouldn’t have waited so long,” he says softly. His eyes are still shut.
You press your lips against his forehead. “Make it up to me, then.”
He slides a hand up to the back of your neck and pulls you back into another kiss.
You can feel the press of his growing erection against your thigh, but for now, it’s enough to just kiss him, to let your body melt against his and feel his hands in your hair, on your hips, framing your face. He makes a low, soft noise in the back of his throat when you nip at his lower lip, somewhere between a moan and a sigh and you think it might be the best sound you’ve ever heard.
But the longer you kiss him, the more you want, and it slowly begins to build a far more frantic need low in your hips. His hands become bolder, sliding along the curve of your waist and hips, stroking your thighs, squeezing your ass as he pulls you ever closer. You, in turn, press yourself more firmly against him, rolling your hips against his until he makes that low groaning sound that leaves you weak.
But it’s his hand wandering up to slip that first button on your blouse that makes you pull away from him, breathless.
“Bed?” You intend it as a question, but it sounds a little more like a plea.
His smile is devilish as he undoes the second button. “I thought you’d never ask.” His gaze slides back down to your open blouse and he quickly slips the third and fourth buttons.
“I thought we were going to bed,” you say with a smirk as the final two buttons come undone.
“We are,” he says as he pulls your blouse off your shoulders. You shiver under the weight of his gaze as he stares greedily at your breasts. 
“You seem a little distracted,” you say.
“Well, I can’t very well leave a job undone,” he says, trailing a finger along the scalloped edge of your bra. “It wouldn’t be proper.”
“Yes, you seem deeply concerned with propriety,” you say, shooting a pointed glance at his finger.
“Very much so,” he murmurs, his fingertips caressing the curve of your breast and then skimming behind your back to unhook the clasp in one single, swift motion.
The straps slip down off your shoulders and he tugs the garment away from you.
He lets out a low groan as he looks at you, which sends a bolt of slick desire straight to your cunt. His hands cup your breasts.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, rolling his thumbs against the sensitive skin of your nipples. You squirm slightly in his lap and he gets a devilish look in his eyes.
His mouth quickly replaces his right hand on your breast.
He’s too good with his mouth. That’s the first thought you have as his lips and tongue cover your breast. But then he catches your nipple between his teeth and gently teases and pulls at the sensitive skin until it puckers and hardens in the heat of his mouth. Your hands rake through his hair, curling into a fist when he finds a particularly good spot. You are arching into his touch, your hips rolling mindlessly against his. 
“James,” you gasp out. “Bed, please.”
He laughs quietly against your breast. You expect him to release you, but instead he moves his mouth to your right breast.
“Fuck,” you hiss as his tongue and teeth exert the same kind of blissful madness on your right breast while his hand kneads and teases the left.
You find yourself torn between begging him not to stop and begging him to take you to bed and you’re honestly not sure which one you want more. But a minute or so later, he releases you, lips curling into a smirk. 
“I think you enjoyed that impropriety,” he says, eyes sparkling with a combination of desire and laughter that leaves you dizzy. 
“You’re on thin ice, James Conrad,” you say, though you can’t hide your smile.
Desire overshadows the laughter in his expression, like the moon eclipsing the sun. “Let me take you to bed and earn my forgiveness, then,” he says.
You slide off his lap onto wobbly legs, but you don’t have to worry about it for very long because he immediately sweeps you into his arms and carries you down the hall to your bedroom.
In your room, he sets you down on your bed and divests you of your jeans with such speed and efficiency you find yourself wondering if it was part of his training.
You slide back on the unmade bed, looking up at him as he looms above you, handsome and a little dangerous in the moonlight that breaks through your curtains.
He allows himself a moment to just look at you, his gaze moving slowly up your body, drinking you in like he’ll never have enough.
Finally, he crawls onto the bed, his gaze intent and hungry, filled with purpose.
He stops at your hips, spreading your thighs wide, licking his lips as he looks you over before lowering himself to kiss the gusset of your underwear.
You can feel the hot rush of his breath against your cunt, the thin, damp fabric the only thing that separates you from the warmth of his mouth. He kisses the fabric again, his nose nudging against your clit.
“James,” you choke out.
This is all he needs tonight. His hands immediately go to your waistband and pull the fabric down and off your hips.
You both groan at the first brush of his mouth against your cunt, though the noise you make is admittedly much closer to a whimper. His tongue circles your clit slowly at first, teasing and tasting and testing until he finds the motion that makes you gasp his name.
You’d thought he was joking about earning your forgiveness, but the way he moves is as though he believes his absolution is truly on the line.
Or maybe he’s just really good at this, you think. It might not be that deep. You don’t need to overth—
Almost as though he can tell that too many of your brain cells are available for coherent thought, he slides one long index finger into you, curling and searching until he finds the spot that makes you gasp and dig your heels into the firm muscles of his back.
He’s building a warm, whirling tension in your hips, burning bright as a meteor about to strike. You grasp at the bed sheets as the rolling crescendo of sensation threatens to overwhelm you. 
His free hand snakes up to find yours clasped in the sheets. His fingers twine with yours.
Something about this little gesture of affection after all those years of wanting and hoping strikes at something deep within you. You’ve never loved anyone like you’ve loved him. You don’t know that you ever will love anyone like you love him.
And maybe it’s that thought, or maybe it’s just a coincidence, but this is the moment you come completely undone.
You cry out as your back arches, pleasure rushing through you. His grip on your hand feels like the only thing keeping you tethered to reality as your whole body succumbs to the feeling. He slows the pace of his tongue to match the rolling swells of the aftershocks as they roll through you.
“James.” It’s the first coherent word you say and he draws away from your cunt reluctantly, though not before placing a soft, lingering kiss against your clit.
Before you can make a joke about how he’s overdressed, he’s sitting up and peeling that ridiculously tight shirt over his head. Your lips part as you feast your eyes on that beautiful expanse of muscle, firm and perfectly sculpted—
—and painted with a massive bruise across his ribs, brilliant and purple as a sunset.
Your post-orgasmic stupor is momentarily forgotten as you roll to your knees, crawling over to him. “You’re hurt.”
He looks confused for a moment before following the path of your gaze. “Oh, that. It’s nothing. Looks a lot worse than it is.”
“The same way your broken finger was nothing?” you say, fingertips trailing to just beneath the edges of the bruise. The broken finger had happened in your last year of university during an unsanctioned game of rugby. He had insisted it was just sprained, even though it was nearly black in color. You knew better and had dragged him to the hospital, where he was informed that not only was his finger broken, but that it was so badly broken that he’d need surgery to set it. Over the years, it had evolved into your go-to example of why he needed to listen to you, the damning piece of evidence that proved he could be too stoic and hardheaded for his own good.
Privately, though, it was also your way of saying that you cared about him, that you worried that his high tolerance for pain and admittedly impressive abilities might lead to him not asking for help when he needed it.
He rolls his eyes, but his gaze is fond. “You’re never going to drop that, are you?”
“Never. You should know that by now.” You put your hands on his shoulders. Should you tell him what you feel? You hesitate for just a moment, but it’s enough for him to notice.
“What is it?” he asks.
You suck in a deep breath. “I want you to be okay with me caring about you.” Your voice is softer than you intend.
He frowns slightly and places his hands on your hips. “How do you mean?”
“Stuff like this,” you say, tracing the edge of the bruise. “I know you say it’s nothing but…” You swallow. “And maybe it is but…you’ve always acted a little like my caring about you—even as a friend—was this massive liability for me.” You place your hand over the bruise. “And it’s never felt that way to me at all.”
You can’t quite read his expression. “What does it feel like?” he asks.
You move your hand over his heart, feeling the steady, even beat under your fingers. “Like you’re someone that I love and I want you to be okay,” you say softly. “Is that really so horrible?”
He runs a thumb along your jaw, leaning his forehead against yours. “Not at all,” he says.
You pause for a moment, your hand on his heart. “I just—I don’t want safe, okay? Just you. Let’s start with that.”
“Okay.” His eyes trail down your face to your lips, but he waits for you to close the gap.
You do.
There’s a part of you that wonders if you said too much too soon, if you have instead succeeded in scaring him off, but he kisses you so deeply that it immediately mutes your anxiety, blunting the cacophony of your fears into a muffled background noise that’s easy to dismiss. When your hand starts to drift toward his belt buckle, he pulls away, the desire in his eyes setting your body aflame. “On your back, my lovely,” he says softly.
You lie back on the bed, staring greedily as he finishes undressing.
He cuts a striking figure, lit by the moonlight streaming in through the curtains. Even with that wicked bruise splashed across his ribs, he still looks like something divine and he’s staring at you like you’re equally remarkable. The thought makes you shiver.
The mattress dips as he crawls back onto the bed and positions himself over your body.
The tip of his cock nudges against your stomach. You reach between your bodies, wrapping your fingers around the hard length of him. He’s long and thick, big in a way that makes your toes curl in anticipation. A low, pleased groan rumbles in his chest.
He leans in to kiss you as you stroke him slowly, savoring every sound he makes, every sharp intake of breath. After a moment, he places his hand over yours, guiding your hand away. You angle your hips up toward him, wrapping one leg around his waist.
He presses the tip of his cock against your soaking cunt and you suck in a sharp breath. He looks at you and grins as he slowly drags his cock from your entrance to your clit and back, coating himself in your slickness.
“You’re a tease,” you say.
“Just making sure you’re ready for me,” he says, eyes glinting too much for that to be the whole truth.
“I can tell when you’re lying, you know.”
The tip of his cock slowly slips inside you and you gasp.
“Can you?” he says casually, like you’re just having a chat over drinks. He eases back out.
“What happened to the man who was going to earn his forgiveness?” you say.
He grins, pressing his cock back against your entrance. “Oh, I think you’re enjoying this.”
It’s a difficult assertion to deny, especially with the way he rocks into you slowly, each time going just a little deeper—but never quite deep enough—before drawing back. It’s not long before your hips are rocking with his, urging him deeper.
“More,” you breathe.
A smirk curls at his lips. “More?”
You don’t know that you have the words to describe the particular empty ache you feel, or the fact that you know it’s only going to be soothed by the steady, rocking thrust of his cock fully inside you. “Please,” you say instead. “Please.”
“I’ve waited too long not to savor you,” he says. He eases inside you another inch or so before pausing.
“James.” There’s desperation in your voice that you’ve never heard before, a slight whimper that makes you feel wild with need. “I need you.”
“You’ll have me, darling,” he says as he leans in to kiss you. He’s easing forward slowly, but this time, he keeps going until he’s buried to the hilt, hips flush against yours. You whimper, relishing the feeling of him inside you, close as you can be.
“Good girl,” he murmurs against your lips. “I knew you could take me.”
You can’t help the way your body reacts to his praise or the soft moan that falls from your lips.
He notices. Of course he does. You feel him smirk as he kisses you and he pulls back slightly to look at you. “Do you like hearing me call you my good girl?”
You nod, but you don’t need to—your cunt flutters around him, tensing.
“Oh, I can feel how much you like that.” He lowers his voice. “My lovely, good girl.”
He slowly rocks his hips once and your breath hitches.
“So very, very good,” he purrs. “You’re taking me so well, darling. And every time I call you my good girl, you feel even better.”
You shudder again as he settles into a devastatingly slow rhythm. Maybe it’s his size or maybe he just knows his angles, but he’s hitting every sensitive place inside you in just the right way and god, you never want him to stop.
“Do you want to be very good for me?” he says in that same low voice.
“Yes,” you breathe. It’s hard to describe how much you want to please him, how much you want him to say your name in that low, deep purr of a voice and tell you that you feel incredible, that you’re doing so well for him. You want to give yourself over to him, let him claim you as his.
“If you want to be very good for me,” he continues, “you’ll come on my cock.”
“Yes,” you say. “Please.”
“Let’s see what we can do about that.” He’s shifting his weight slightly, propping himself up on his left arm, bringing his right hand to your clit. His fingers slowly roll over the throbbing bundle of nerves and you moan.
“Oh, that feels good, doesn’t it?” he says. “I don’t think you’re going to last very long if I keep doing this.”
You whimper something that might have been words at one point, but disintegrated into an unintelligible mess of vowels and consonants somewhere between your brain and your mouth.
“In fact,” he says, his voice dropping impossibly low, “maybe you’re going to be a very, very good girl and come more than once on my cock.”
You whimper, your hips rolling with his. The combination of his fingers on your clit and his cock inside of you is driving you crazy, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
“Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” he rasps. “Can you be a good girl and come on my cock?”
You can feel your orgasm building, that coil in your hips winding tighter and tighter. You nod.
“Look at me and tell me what you want,” he says.
“I—yes.”
“Yes what?”
“I want to come.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not what I said.”
“I want to come on your cock.”
“Still not quite right.”
Something like a combination of a laugh and a whine falls from your lips. “James—”
“I want to hear you say it, love. All of it.”
“Fuck—” You can feel yourself inching closer to the edge. 
“Tell me.”
“I want—” You shudder against your impending release. “I want…I want to be a good girl—and come on your cock.”
“Good girl,” he purrs, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Now come for me.”
You’re not sure if it’s the fact that he made you say it out loud or because he told you to come or if it’s just a very well timed coincidence. Either way, your back is suddenly arching and your cunt is clamping down hard on his cock as you careen into an orgasm that makes your whole body tremble.
But as good as it feels, you can’t help but be captivated by Conrad—the way he slows his pace, the sound he makes. You can tell he’s struggling to stay in control and the fact that a man noted for his cool head and ruthless calm is struggling to keep his composure because of how you are making him feel is somewhere beyond incredible.
He pauses for a moment, seemingly to collect himself. He looks at you as you tremble through the aftershocks, drinking you in like he can’t quite believe the wonder of what he’s seeing.
“You’re heavenly,” he says softly.
You reach for him and he leans down to kiss you, his hips still moving at that agonizingly slow pace.
“I think it’s your turn, though,” you murmur against his lips.
He draws back and that intense, hungry look is back. “My turn?” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Did you not tell me you were going to be a good girl for me?”
“I just came on your cock,” you say. “Wasn’t that the agreement?”
“I believe I said that if you were very good, you would come more than once.” He accompanies this with a sharp thrust of his hips as he lowers his lips to your ear. “And I know you want to be very good.”
Your breath is already hitching, your back arching as your legs lock around his waist. “Fuck.”
His voice has dropped again to that low growl. “Do you know how utterly incredible you feel when you come?”
His fingers are back at your clit and you whine.
“It took every ounce of my strength not to spill myself inside you the moment your sweet cunt started trembling around me.” His breath is hot on your ear and you can’t help the way that your muscles clench around him.
He groans low in your ear. “Fuck. Yes. Like that.”
His pace is still so slow and steady and that almost makes the buildup more unbearable. You don’t understand how you’re already so close, but you can feel the tide of your orgasm rising once again.
“Oh god,” you moan.
“I can feel how close you are,” he growls. “And I’m not going to be able to hold back.”
“Come for me,” you say, your voice rough with desperation.
“You first,” he says. “Then I’ll make you mine.”
“I’ve always been yours,” you choke out before your voice cuts off with a cry as your orgasm starts to crest. It’s just as intense as your last one—the edges of your vision go white and fuzzy and you let out a primal moan.
Conrad’s pace increases as he fucks you through it, his mouth open in a soundless gasp.
“James,” you whimper.
He lets out a low moan seconds before you feel the warmth of his release inside you.
He leans down to kiss you and it’s as though you’re both moving through molasses—every touch, every sound feels slow and sweet. He finally lets his head drop to your shoulder when his hips still. He exhales slowly, the heat of his breath warming your shoulder.
“We should have been doing this for years,” he says after a moment.
“I mean, there was a reason why I called you a fucking idiot earlier.”
He lifts his head to look at you and he’s failing to hide his smile. “I suppose that’s difficult to dispute.”
You press a kiss against his forehead. “You can keep earning my forgiveness. I certainly enjoyed this first attempt.”
“Mmm, I have several other ideas.” He kisses you softly and slowly before slowly pulling away. “But let’s get cleaned up.”
He makes you stay in bed while he fetches a wet washcloth from your bathroom and carefully cleans you up. It’s sweet and intimate in a way you don’t expect—no one’s ever done this for you before. 
He returns to bed and you curl up together, your cheek resting on his chest, his fingers tracing patterns on your shoulder.
You’re quiet for a bit, mulling the question that sits on the tip of your tongue like the sword of Damocles, ready to fall and smash your easy peace to bits.
“What is it?” asks Conrad before you can summon the courage.
“Hmm?” you say, though you’re pretty sure he’s going to see through your lie.
“You’ve got something on your mind.”
You pause, wetting your lips. “How long are you in town?”
His grip on you tightens, like he understands. “For now, as long as you want me to be.”
You lift your head to give him a skeptical look. He strokes your cheek.
“I’ll have another job eventually,” he says. “But not quite yet.”
“Okay,” you say.
He’s quiet for a moment. “This part of it…it’s not going to be easy.”
You hear the unspoken part of this—he’s giving you a chance to back out, to call this a one off, to keep yourself safe.
“Once again, I never said I wanted easy,” you say. “I just want you.”
He draws you closer, pressing a kiss to the top of you head. “You have me, my love,” he murmurs. “I’ve always been yours.”
262 notes · View notes
infinitystoner · 3 months
Text
Compliance
A continuation of Misconduct / MASTERLIST
Pairing: James Conrad x Female Reader
Summary: You disobeyed a direct order during a mission, and, now that you’re back in the safety of your motel room, Conrad reminds you that actions have consequences.
Word Count: 2.1k
Tags/Content: Established Relationship, Soft Dom!Conrad, Bratty Sub Behavior, Bondage, Orgasm Denial, Smut! Smut! Smut!, Plot? What Plot?
Rating: Explicit; 18+
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“...you’re going to talk me through it.”
Conrad’s tongue darts across his bottom lip, drinking in the vision of you, bound and on your knees before him. He leans back, propping himself up on one elbow and spreading his legs with measured grace. His right hand is still wrapped around his cock, but he’s halted his motions.  
In this moment, you grasp the gravity of your current situation and his need for control. You commit to doing whatever he asks of you. 
“Go on, love. I’m waiting.” 
“Stroke yourself… slowly,” you say, saliva pooling in your mouth as you watch Conrad unhurriedly move his hand along his hardening length. His piercing gaze remains focused on yours. 
Yes, you’ll give him exactly what he wants tonight. 
He should be careful what he asks for. 
“Now imagine my warm tongue against your balls, licking my way up your cock until—” you pause, watching Conrad’s hand tighten around his cock as he pumps faster, groaning out a string of curses. Your pussy shamelessly throbs in response and you press your thighs together in an effort to relieve the burning ache, groaning when the seam of your jeans provides the tiniest bit of friction. “—until my lips wrap around the tip. Touch yourself there.” 
At your words, he runs the pad of his thumb over the head of his cock, whimpering as his hips jerk.
“Come closer,” Conrad growls. 
The intoxicating scent of him envelopes you, and you suppress the urge to take him in your mouth as you settle into your new position between his thighs. You’re determined to prove you can be obedient, but you wonder how long this little game will last. Because for the past six months, you and Conrad have followed the same routine: complete an assignment, come back to the motel, and release your collective adrenaline. 
His stamina post-mission is always impressive. You can’t wait for him to rail you within an inch of your life. 
“Imagine your cock hitting the back of my throat as I gag around you.”
You wet your lips as Conrad continues to thrust into his hand, tossing his head back as his hips shift off the edge of the bed. He’s quick to catch himself, but his cock grazes your mouth before he does so, and you give in – licking the tip as he groans above you. 
“Naughty girl,” he rasps, cupping your chin as he runs his thumb over your bottom lip. The rough timbre of his voice reverberates through you, settling in your core as your traitorous hips buck against the edge of the mattress. 
“Stand up.” 
He knows exactly what he’s doing, giving you these brusque commands. The heat swirling through your cunt pulses in time with your frantic heartbeat. You don’t stand a chance. 
Conrad steadies you when you struggle to rise to your feet. So much for being seductive. But he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s honed in – hastily unfastening your pants and tugging them over the curve of your ass with ease as he positions you between his knees. His cock, resting heavy against his thigh, twitches as he runs a finger through your folds. The way he parts his lips and slants his brows lets you know he’s recalculating his next move. 
“You’re soaked.” 
“Let me come,” you say as he strokes your swollen clit with calloused, practiced fingertips. 
“Not yet,” he replies, pulling away. “Bend over.”
His firm chest presses against yours as he stands. Tilting your head up to meet his gaze, you note your own lust is reflected in his eyes. 
Any other man would likely fuck you into the mattress, but Conrad is not just any man. He’s methodical, precise in his actions. There are never any hasty decisions with him. No sudden deviations from the plan.  
It’s what you love most about him; yet, earlier tonight, you’d commandeered his mission and subsequently betrayed his trust.  
Conrad meticulously positions you in front of him. You don’t say a word, instead imagining the intense focus on his face: the furrow of his brow, the way his lips press together in concentration, a hint of his tongue peeking out. He guides your upper body to rest against the bed before seizing the belt around your wrists as if it’s a rein. The thought of him riding you to the edge of oblivion sends a tingling thrill up your spine. 
“Is this alright?” he asks. 
Craning your neck, you finally take in the sight of him behind you as he bends his knees to line himself up. He’s a terrible tease, and the well-worn denim of his jeans tickles the back of your thighs as he drags his cock along your pussy, applying just enough pressure to drive you mad. 
“Just fuck me already,” you whine, and Conrad chuckles as you writhe beneath him. There are several reasons why you shouldn’t goad him, but that requires a presence of mind you don’t currently possess.   
“Such a filthy mouth. But, if you insist.” 
Conrad snatches the belt as he buries himself in your cunt, bottoming out in one swift snap of his hips. Your back arches and you cry out at the sensation of being so perfectly full. His fingertips once again find your clit, delicious pressure building in your hips as he mimics the wave of pleasure that crashes over you each time his hips roll against your ass. 
“Need to come, James. Please.”
“Do you think you deserve it?”
“I- I …” you stutter, every last brain cell focused on the feel of his cock dragging along your g-spot.
“Answer. Me.” Each word is punctuated with an agonizingly slow thrust. Both his hands are now firmly holding your hips down, but you attempt to squirm anyway, your throbbing clit searching for pressure or friction — anything to aid you in toppling you over the edge. But Conrad’s grip keeps you still and at his mercy. 
“Oh, you wicked thing,” he drawls, leaning over, his solid form pressing you further into the mattress. 
“So wicked,” you agree as he leans back and smacks your ass, the sweet sting making you clench around his cock. 
“God,” he breathes out between gritted teeth, his large hand kneading your cheek before giving it another swift smack. “You must want- want me to fuck the brat out of you.” 
Conrad wraps an arm around your midriff, pulling your body back against him. 
“You can try.” You rise to your tip-toes as he continues to rock into you, your bound hands clutching at the hem of his t-shirt. A deep laugh rumbles in his chest as he leans down to whisper against the shell of your ear. 
“Oh? Is that what you really want? Will a proper fuck set you straight?” 
“Yes, Daddy.”
You know it drives him wild when you call him that, and, as predicted, his movements become more frenzied. The sounds of Conrad’s groans as his cock slides into your pussy over and over again are hypnotic. He’s quickly losing himself – and so are you. The noises of bliss he’s pulling from you meld with his own as they reverberate around the room, and soon you’re ready to scream out his name. It’s only when his hips judder and he rests his forehead against your back as rides out his climax that you realize he’s not going to let you come. 
“You did so good,” Conrad praises as he unfastens the belt from your forearms and pulls you into his embrace. He brings your wrist up to his lips, tenderly kissing all the places the leather dug into your flesh. You whine as your orgasm ebbs. 
“Do you know why I didn’t grant you release?” 
You’re frustrated, and he knows it. You open your mouth to reply with some bratty retort, but Conrad simply tuts, pressing a finger to your lips. 
“Because you were impatient. Disobedient. And for this,” he motions between you, “to work, I can’t have you taking unnecessary risks out there. Is that understood?” 
Your heart plummets at the realization that you’ve truly disappointed him. Your mind whirs as remorse floods your senses – there’s got to be some way to make him realize how much you regret your earlier misconduct. 
“I understand,” is all you manage to say. 
“Good. Now,” Conrad says, nodding towards the bathroom. “Let’s get cleaned up.”
Tumblr media
The shower soothes you and rinses away some of your worries, but then Conrad joins you. As you silently begin to wash the dirt and sweat off each other’s bodies, something more than water slickens the space between your thighs. You guide his hand to the crease of your hip, praying those talented fingers will finally grant you release. 
He leans back to observe your face. “Feeling quite bold tonight, are we?”
“I need you, James.” 
“I know, darling. But I need you to take this seriously.” 
A whine rumbles at the back of your throat as he steps out of the tub, his glorious ass on full display as he reaches for the towels. In quiet defeat, you turn the faucet off, watching the water circle the drain. What a fool you’ve been. 
Conrad gently wraps a towel around your shoulders and helps you out of the shower, his touch a comforting anchor in the midst of vulnerability. 
“What if your plan had backfired? You could have been captured — or worse…” his voice trails off, like he can’t bring himself to say it.  
Because the mission’s success and your safe return home had been pure dumb luck. You replay the moment it all went to hell: Your target, a bureaucrat being held captive by a small crew of outlying militants, was left unguarded. You took advantage of the opportunity and succeeded in securing the abducted party. But you had compromised not only your own safety, but everyone else’s, in the process. 
His voice drops as he nudges his nose against yours. “There is only one thing that matters to me in this life, and that is you, my precious girl.” 
Conrad runs his thumb over your cheek, and your heart drops into your stomach as those crystal blue eyes look down at you with unwavering devotion. You don’t deserve him, and yet he is yours – completely.  
“And I- I cannot bear the thought of something happening to you.” 
“It won’t happen again. I promise,” you reply quietly, wanting to say more, yet realizing that your words aren’t enough. Not when you were so reckless. 
“I want to believe you,” he murmurs against your lips before kissing you. It’s brief – much too brief – and you do your best to ignore the twinge of pain that jabs your heart as he walks away. 
You’ll do whatever it takes to earn back his sacred trust. Taking a deep breath to compose yourself, you search the small armoire tucked in the corner of the motel bathroom for an item Conrad gifted you months ago as a peace offering. Finally, you find it: an embroidered beige negligee. The thin silk highlights the contours of your curves, and you delight in the way it skims over your damp skin as you walk into the bedroom. 
Something akin to hope bubbles inside you because Conrad is waiting for you there, leaning against the pillows, long legs stretching across the bed and his bath towel slung low around his hips. The tense pinch between his brows softens as he notes what you’re wearing. He beckons you to him.
“Surely you’re not ready for sleep yet?” he teases as you lie down next to him, the scent of lavender soap intertwining with the heady, lingering smell of sex.
“I’m much too stimulated to sleep,” you admit with sigh, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. 
“Oh?” He rolls on top of you, pushing the hem of your nightgown above your hips before caging you between his arms. “We’ll have to do something about that then.”
“Are you sure I deserve it?” you ask, although you widen your hips in anticipation. Conrad settles between them, quickly discarding his towel. The soft amber light of the sconces above your bed highlights the expanse of muscles rippling beneath his taut, tanned skin. He looks at you through half-lidded eyes and you think you might break under the weight of his gaze.
“My love. This life we lead… it’s dangerous. Imperfect. That is what you don’t deserve.”
At times, it feels like you’re standing on the precipice of your own destruction. The love you possess for this gorgeous man consumes you like a raging wildfire, and you know it will inevitably leave a trail of ashes in its wake. You inhale, gliding your fingers across the sharp line of his cheekbone before curling your hand around the back of his neck. 
“It’s the life I want – the life I choose. Every day,” you assure him. “Just as I choose you, James. Every day.” 
Whatever he sees in your expression must convince him you’re telling the truth because, as he slowly guides himself inside you, he says, 
“I believe you.”
175 notes · View notes
muddyorbsblr · 5 months
Text
friday nights & hot dates [kinktober 2023: slow & soft]
See the full Kinktober 2023 Collection here! See my full list of works here!
Summary: A few months after he first showed up at your house to keep you company on your birthday, Conrad finally tells you how he feels. | sequel to 'you deserve better'
Pairing: James Conrad x Reader
Word Count: 6.1k [please prepare drinkies & snacks accordingly]
Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, get on outta here i won't ask twice); unprotected p in v sex; language; insecure reader; the smut scene is 1.3k words long idek if i should say sorry for this… [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: simp Conrad; a touch of aftercare in the end 😳🫠
Dick-tionary (aka smut guide): smut starts at "Once he realized what you were about to do" and ends at "We're nowhere near done"
Tumblr media
A loud chime boomed across the Monarch training field, announcing the top of the hour. The setting sun only barely blocked by the visor atop former Captain James Conrad's head and doing a piss poor job of straining his eyes as he watched on the first troop of soldiers assigned to the lab.
He'd been tasked to train the few handfuls of privates to be able to face the challenges that Skull Island would have in store for them throughout subsequent missions. They were decent enough, but to handle both navigating the hostile, monstrous terrain and serving as protective detail for the scientists on their tasks to obtain more samples and document its ecosystem, they would need to be exemplary. At the top of their game.
Especially if they are to be protecting Y/N, he thought to himself. Then again, he probably wouldn't let any of them anywhere near you. He would see to your protection personally. Make sure that there was little to no room for error when it came to your safety.
But they all had a long way to go before he decreed any of them ready for the field. And none of them would be closing the gap on their endurance or their agility within the next few minutes. The chime that rung out through the field not only signaled the top of the hour, but the end of your own work day, and he wanted to at least see you off to your ride home. Perhaps walk with you to the pick-up point.
"Alright, that's enough for today," he called out to the privates, everyone standing to attention at his word. "We'll resume on Monday morning. Get adequate rest this weekend."
He took off his training jacket and his visor, haphazardly running his hand through his short cropped hair. While he took a quick inventory of his belongings before heading off to your lab, one of the women privates approached him.
"Do you need anything, Pearson?"
She began to shuffle her stance, somewhat incapable of meeting his gaze as she spoke to him. "The other guys and I were going to check out the new Mexican place that opened up a few blocks from here. I was--I mean we were wondering if you'd like to join us?"
Pearson straightened her stance in a particular manner, jutting her chest out in a blatantly clear attempt to draw his attention to it. You're fresh out of luck, my attentions are for one woman and one woman only. And she's in the lab.
"Thank you for the invite, Pearson, but I have what you and your peers might say a…'hot date' tonight." He fought against the smile playing at the corners of his mouth at the thought of being on a proper date with you.
"Oh." She barely tried to hide the disappointment in her voice. "Okay then. Have a good weekend, Sir."
Tumblr media
"Don't look now but he's here again," Brooks muttered from across the lab, the sound of him clacking away on his keyboard taking the briefest pause to tell you that once again, the former SAS tracker James Conrad was right outside the door. "You ever gonna share with the class how you two became a thing? 'Cause we have a bet going on in the lab about who made the first move and--"
"There's nothing to share, Brooks, because we aren't a thing," you cut him off, taking on a snippy tone while you ran the genome of the last flora sample from the set you collected in Skull Island against every recorded organism known to man so far. "We're friends, that's all. Give it time and he'll get tired of slumming it out with me and go back to haunting pool bars and nameless hookups."
"I don't know, Y/L/N…I never had a friend look at me like that."
The results from your test finally came up on the screen, confirming that the flora on the island were all, in fact, undocumented. You took a quick screenshot and placed it into your report. "Looks like we're getting funded," you announced, your half-deadpanned tone met with a mixture of excitement and fear. "Don't everyone stand up at once, I know how pumped we all are to get back to the island of death."
You finally stood up from your desk, looking outside the door and seeing Conrad outside giving you a little smile when your eyes met. You tried to ignore how your heart started doing backflips in your chest at the sight of him, keeping your expression fairly neutral as you gave him a small wave in response. Once your computer had finished shutting down, you grabbed your things and bid everyone goodbye, stopping at Brooks's desk last.
"If what you mean is looking at me like a barnacle he can't scrape off his boat, I hope you never have friends that look at you like that, my guy."
Before you stepped through the door, your fellow scientist let out a final remark. "You know, Y/N, for someone so smart, you're a bit of an idiot sometimes."
"Takes one to know one, Brooks," you shot back, stepping across the threshold and almost immediately becoming face-to-chest with the tracker that towered over you effortlessly. "Hey Conrad," you said slowly, trying your best to keep a hold of your composure. "Did you need something from us? I think I have Bryant running CMP for the guys you're training you should have the results tomo--"
"I didn't come here for the blood tests, Y/L/N," he cut you off, giving you another little smile that had your pulse thumping violently at your throat. "I erm…it's Friday." His eyebrows scrunched together in the slightest wince at his words.
"It is…" you echoed lamely, starting to tap away at your phone to get an Uber home, holding back the urge to sigh in relief seeing that your ride was only a few minutes away. "Have a good weekend, then," you tried to wave him off, pointing vaguely at the pick-up area, starting to awkwardly shuffle away from him.
He reached out and wrapped his hand around yours, stopping you before you got away too far. "Actually, I was thinking…perhaps we could go and grab a bite to eat? There's a new place that opened up just a short walk from here. Maybe we could try it out?"
As if on cue, your stomach let out an audible grumble, rudely reminding you that the last time you ate was this morning before you left your house. Before you could dwell on it any further, you canceled your Uber, giving him a tiny smile of your own. "Lead the way."
Dinner was a rather quiet affair, the two of you starting off by sharing a plate of nachos before you ordered your mains. Sometime before your entrees were served, a small group of people you recognized as the privates being trained as the Monarch Defense Team walked through the doors, the women immediately spotting Conrad and tossing a scornful dismissive look your way.
"What's wrong?"
His voice took your attention away from the group, the motion of him reaching across the table to take your hand in his causing a resounding stomp from across the restaurant followed by a barely contained "What the fuck?!"
"It's uhh…it's nothing," you waved off, trying to slowly pull your hand away so as to not elicit a stronger reaction from the group and grab his attention. "Just…thinking about work. I have to put a recommendation for another mission to the island in my report."
"We'll be better prepared this time," he reassured you, his thumb rubbing across the back of your hand in a soothing motion. "We have a better idea of what we're to face when we get there, and what not to do. And with enough time the troop that I'm training might even be field ready, so you and your team would have better protection."
Your neck twitched at the idea of the woman with the derisive eyes being tasked to protect you. Might even just throw you to the gigantic insects voluntarily. "Right…at least the team will be safe."
"And you, Y/N," he insisted, giving your hand a light squeeze. "I'll see to it myself, I promise you."
You nodded at his words, feeling your face strain at the smile you tried to give him before slipping your hand out of his and standing up. "Ladies room, I'll be back in a few."
While you were in line for the restroom, your thoughts wandered to how you could potentially word your recommendation so that maybe you didn't have to go with the rest of the team back to Skull Island. You weren't physically cut out to be in such a high-stress environment, and frankly you would be more of a liability if people had to look out for you on top of trying to survive a hostile environment.
When your turn came up in the queue, you were stopped in your tracks by someone wrapping their hand around your arm in a claw-like grasp, yanking you slightly backwards. "We need to talk, Y/L/N," a woman seethed.
You swore your blood chilled to near freezing point when you saw the woman private from Conrad's troop, her hateful eyes and vicious sneer too close for comfort.
Tumblr media
There was something troubling you, Conrad could tell that much as he watched you in line for the restroom. Much as he usually found it adorable when you were muttering to yourself over your research, he had to fight to resist the urge to stand up and do what he could to somehow put you at ease.
He knew that you weren't all too excited that you had to return to the island, but his gut told him that it was more than just that. You seemed almost fearful when he mentioned the troop that he was training, and not in the way that told him it was simply because you doubted their ability to guarantee your safety.
Did you not realize that he would never even think to put your safety in anyone's hands other than his own? Didn't you know how valuable you were to him? Of course he would keep you safe. He'd put you in the same tent if he could just to make sure you'd never leave his sight.
The sight of a woman marching towards you as if on a war path had him leaving his seat within seconds, immediately recognizing it to be Pearson. When she stopped you from moving and he clocked the vice grip she had on you it had him seeing red. He saw the way you flinched back when she started hissing in your face, her words making every muscle in his body tense and burn with the itch to protect you from someone so obviously spiteful.
"Don't tell me you're the hot date that Captain Conrad turned me down for, this has to be the biggest crock of shit I've ever heard in my life," she spat out. Your face contorted with obvious discomfort from her talon-like hand tightening around your arm, nails undoubtedly digging into your skin.
"Listen, Private Pearson, I think there might just be a misunderstanding," you spoke softly, your tone laced with caution. "He's probably gonna go to said 'hot date' after this, I'm just his friend. We're friends…I think…"
Silly sweet girl, he thought to himself. Are you really so unaware of how I see you?
"Do you really think I'm that stupid, Y/L/N? I don't need to have a PhD in God knows what the ever loving fuck to know that you're into him. The only thing I can't figure out to save my life is what the fuck he sees in a mousey jumpy little thing like you, and where you found the goddamn audacity to steal him away the way you did."
"I'm not trying to steal anyone," you insisted, trying to wrestle your arm out of her hold. "We're just friends, Private Pearson. Anyone with a functioning brain can see that he doesn't want me like that. You want him, he's all yours, you won't hear a peep out of me."
"You better be right," she scoffed, releasing you with a slight shove, causing you to stumble backwards and fight to find your balance for a few seconds before righting yourself on your feet again. "If you know what's good for you, you'll stay the fuck away from him. Preferably before you see what happens when your stupid little face gets me triggered."
Rather than give her a verbal agreement, you simply nodded your head, scurrying off into the restroom, your face looking as if it had been drained of color and your bottom lip quivering with an obvious concern for your own safety.
So this was why you were concerned over your protection detail if you had to return to the island. Of course. Who would ever feel safe if someone assigned to the team that was tasked to protect them behaved the way that Pearson was behaving now? Who was to say that it wasn't beneath her to intentionally endanger you out of sheer spite?
The private let out an arrogant huff, flipping her hair and standing up straight with a smug look on her face before making her way back to her table with the rest of the privates in her troop.
"Pearson," Conrad spoke, letting his irritation over the entire encounter lace his tone. She stopped in her tracks, turning slowly to face him with a touch of fear in her eyes. Good, you should be afraid after the way you just spoke to the woman I love.
"Cap…Captain Conrad, hi!" Her cheeks strained with the smile she tried to keep plastered on her face despite the obvious nervousness that remained in her eyes. "We're so glad you decided to join us after all, we're seated over--"
"You're dismissed. Don't bother coming in on Monday." Her face fell immediately, indignation coloring her expression. "If you cannot treat the people you're expected to defend and protect with professionalism and respect, then you're not fit to stay on this team, let alone be deployed to the island."
"Come on, all this for a shifty little nothing? This is completely unfair!" she scoffed. "You could do so much better than her--"
"Hold your damn tongue, Pearson. I won't have you disrespect her--"
"She can't even hear us!"
"But I can." He began to raise his voice, calling the attention of the other patrons in the restaurant. "That's the woman I love you're talking about. It would be wise for you to choose your next words very carefully."
All the color drained from her face and she stood up straight again, back at full attention. "I apologize, Sir. I'll have my locker cleared before the weekend's over." And then she made her way back to her table, heavy footsteps sounding throughout the whole restaurant.
As Conrad sat back in his seat waiting for you to return, he replayed his own words over and over in his mind. After all this time keeping his emotions bottled in for the sake of preserving what friendship he had with you, the words had finally formed and solidified what had been building ever since the day he met you on the way to that forsaken death island.
He loved you.
Tumblr media
By the time you made your way back to your table, you spotted Conrad signing a receipt and placing his credit card back into his wallet.
"You know I keep a tally on how many times you've refused to let me pay, right?" you sighed, taking out your phone and once again trying to book for an Uber home. "I'm perfectly fine with and capable of splitting the bill."
"Next time."
"I also keep a tally on how many times you've said exacty that." You shuffled your feet awkwardly where you stood, avoiding looking at both him and the table that sat his trainees, including the cruel witch that was Private Pearson. "Well uhm…I should get going, it's getting late. Enjoy your weekend, Conrad."
He reached out before you took another step, placing his hand at the curve of your waist. "Walk with me back to the lab and I'll drive you home."
The sound of a fist slamming down on one of the tables made you take a step back from his hold. You didn't have to look to know who it was or what caused the outburst. "I-I really don't wanna be a bother, it's fine. Really. I can take care of myself."
You tried to step forward again, making him stand from his seat, placing a large hand on your shoulder before running down the length of your arm to lace his fingers between yours. "You could never be a bother for me, Y/L/N," he spoke softly, lightly touching your chin with his other hand. "Come on."
For the most part throughout the drive to your place, he was touching you. Whether it be holding your hand between stoplights to make you stop picking at your fingernails, or rubbing circles on your knee to stop you from fidgeting, all the while keeping his other hand steadily on the wheel.
It was hands down one of the most illegally distractingly attractive things you'd ever seen. A sight that you thought was only reserved for leading ladies in those romance books you read, definitely not something you were supposed to experience in your lifetime.
It had you fighting back the urge to pout when you saw your house start to come into view, knowing that in a few short moments it would all be over. He gave your knee a light squeeze once he'd pulled up in front of your hourse, making quick work to make his way around the front of his car to open the door for you and undo your seatbelt.
The combined scent of his woodsy citrusy cologne and something that was just uniquely him seared itself into your brain as his face was mere inches from yours. He made it even worse reaching for your hand to hold you steady while you stepped out of the car.
"Thanks, Conrad," you muttered when you got to your door, your mind spinning from the feel of him running his thumb across your knuckles. "You should uhm…probably get going. Don't wanna keep you from any other plans you might have tonight."
You felt your pulse start beating furiously at your neck when he answered you. "What plans?"
Didn't Pearson have a full blown meltdown over him talking about a hot date and then seeing you with him at dinner? What the fuck was he going on about?
"Come on, Conrad, you don't have to pretend, it's just us here. Pearson practically yanked my spine from my throat earlier at the restaurant harping on about you having plans tonight so really, I'm sure you have better things to do on a Friday night you don't have to feel like you're…I don't know, obligated? To spend time with me. And at least you'll stop looking like you're doing some weird pity charity work, too--"
"Y/N, stop." He took a step toward you, closing the distance and framed your face in his large hands. "The only plans I had for tonight were with you. Do you remember what I told you all those months ago, that first night I came here?" You only stared at him blankly, wordlessly prompting him to answer it himself. "I wanted to let you know that I'm here. For you. And I still am. I always will be."
Before you could respond, he leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. Fleeting, but it resumed the near violent fluttering in your stomach from the contact. He gave you no time to react before he pressed his lips to yours again, wrapping his arms around you and cradling your head with his hand before pressing you against the door.
"Look at me, sweetheart," he breathed out when he broke the kiss. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat when you saw how dilated his pupils had become after that kiss. "How is it that you're so observant of everything around you and yet you fail to see what's right in front of you?"
"Conrad what--"
"How could you look at me and not see a man so desperately, so irretrievably in love?"
You swore all the air left your lungs at his words. In love? No. This couldn't be real. This was beyond simply improbable, this was impossible.
There was no way on this Earth that he felt the same.
"I can almost hear the gears in your brilliant mind turning, Y/L/N," he said softly, weaving his fingers into your hair as he proceeded to press tender kisses on your temple and the side of your face. "Invite me inside. Let me take you to your bedroom. Let me show you what you mean to me."
Before you could think about it any longer, you wordlessly slipped your key into his hand, slowly nodding your head. The only response you got from him was him latching his lips onto your neck, groaning into your skin as he lifted you off the ground with one arm, unlocking your door with the other.
He'd carried you all the way upstairs to your bedroom, constantly pressing a kiss wherever his lips could reach. When he started fumbling for the light switch, you tried to hold out your hand to stop him. "No lights," you muttered. If you wanted this to go anywhere even remotely good tonight, that would require him not running for the hills the second he got you naked.
"Without the lights, I can't see you, sweet girl," he said back teasingly, kissing along your jawline until he captured your lips, smiling into the kiss.
"Exactly," you murmured against his lips, causing him to chuckle against your skin.
"Seeing you is the best part of my day," he told you simply, flipping the switch on and bathing your bedroom in a warm white glow. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the brilliant smile he gave you once he saw your face. "There you are."
He set you down on your feet, touching the top button of your shirt with a question in his eyes, only proceeding to undo the button when you have him a slight nod. Once enough skin was exposed to him, he started to trace a line of kisses across your collarbone, running his hands down your arms to strip the shirt off from you. And then he sent your mind racing as he gave you the same treatment working both your pants and panties down your legs.
"I've dreamed of this since the island," he whispered into your skin, kissing his way back up to your lips as he reached behind you, unclasping your bra. "Lie down on the bed, my love. Let me see you."
He kept your hand in his as you lowered yourself to lie on your back, your heart thundering in your chest and your lip quivering as his eyes hungrily roamed your body. Thoughts began to swim in your head again, of how different, how much less toned nearly all parts of you were compared to him. Compared to the women he'd been with before. You tried to pull your hand away from his, to start to cover yourself.
Once he realized what you were about to do, he moved to hover over you on the bed, placing his hand in the space between your arm and your torso to block your way. "No," he said simply before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. "Don't hide yourself from me." He kissed his way down your neck to your chest, paying close attention to your breasts, holding you steady as you squirmed under him while he kissed and sucked your nipples into stiff peaks.
"Conrad…" Your voice came out faint, the air too thick to breathe while you drowned in his attentions. His lips moved down your stomach, peppering kisses along your mound before placing his hands on your inner thighs and gently parting your legs, opening yourself more to him.
You clenched around nothing watching him lick his lips before his eyes found yours, desperate whimpers coming out of you when he started kissing along your inner thighs. The ache between your legs started to grow stronger the closer his mouth got to where you craved him.
"Conrad!" Your back arched off the bed when he licked up the length of your slit and pressed a fleeting open-mouthed kiss to your clit.
"Lay back down, sweetheart." Your back immediately met the mattress again at his soft spoken order, your stomach fluttering violently again at the sight of him standing over you and pulling his shirt over his head. "You are the most breathtaking sight," he breathed out. "My love…"
"Could say the same from here," you shot back, still struggling to breathe properly under his gaze. The air was practically stuck in your throat the second his hands went to his pants, taking his time to undo his belt and pants, every muscle on his perfectly sculpted body moving and flexing as if he was trying to seduce you with such a seemingly mundane action.
As if he needed to seduce you.
The sound that came out of you was borderline inhuman the second he pushed his pants down his legs, and you'd gotten a good look at the sheer size of him. There's no way that's gonna fit, you thought nervously. "Conrad, I don't--" You huffed out a deflated sigh. "It's been an embarrassingly long while since I've--"
"It's alright, sweetheart." He quickly made his way back to his position on the bed, pressing a line of kisses along your jaw until he reached your lips, making an almost relieved sound against your lips. "We'll go slow. Please just tell me if I hurt you, that's the last thing I'd ever want."
Your eyes flew open at the feel of his length pressing against your entrance, your walls stretching just shy of the point of discomfort as you accommodated to his size. Any other thoughts and doubts in your mind took a backseat to the sound of Conrad's soft groans as he inched his way into you.
You'd never felt this unbelievably full.
He moaned your name in your ear. "Like you were made for me." He pressed his lips to your temple, the gesture somewhat calming your erratically beating heart. "I'll keep going now."
"Wait Conrad you what--Oh!" You felt a thrill at the back of your head once he pushed even further in, more arousal rushing and slickening your inner walls clenching around him as if pulling him deeper into you. All you could utter over the overwhelming pleasure he was subjecting you to was a faint whimper of his name.
"I love you, Y/N," he sighed in contentment, his warm exhale hitting your already heated skin before he resumed kissing along the side of your face.
"Don't say that," you blurted out. "You don't have to--"
"I want to," he cut you off, moving his head to capture your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue licking at your bottom lip. "I've wanted to tell you for so long please don't tell me to stop. I can't--"
"No one's ever said it. Not to me. I'm not--I've never been--"
Your words stilled him. He rested his forehead on yours, the tip of his nose brushing against your own. "All the more reason for me to tell you." He muffled your moan with a kiss when he inched in even more. "I love you." He kissed up your neck, gently capturing your earlobe between his teeth before kissing the same spot. "I'll say it so often everyone around us will be sick of hearing me say the words."
"Conrad…" you cried out when he finally bottomed out, your hips flush together. "Please--"
"I love you." He started moving his hips in slow grinding circles, repeating the words every time he fully entered you.
The words were lodged stubbornly in the back of your throat; all you could utter was his name while your body trembled trying to raise your hips to meet his thrusts. Meanwhile a vicious voice in the back of your mind questioned if this was even real, refusing to accept any reality where a guy like James Conrad actually genuinely fell in love with you.
You lived by the saying that if something sounded too good to be true, then it probably was. And this…this sounded like a chick lit romance novel where the devastatingly handsome decommissioned soldier fell for the nerdy scientist that most days couldn't even bother to check if her hair looked alright from the back.
This was definitely too good to be true. And all you could do now was allow yourself the fleeting opportunity to lose yourself in the pleasure he was more than capable of and seemed quite willing to give you.
And brace yourself for the moment he pulled away. The moment he finally realized that yes. Yes he could do better, actually.
Before you could dwell on it any further, he pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts when his fingers made contact with the throbbing bundle of nerves above your entrance, rubbing at the spot with the same languid pace of his thrusts.
"You feel divine, my love," he moaned in your ear, pressing his lips to a spot behind it that sent your mind reeling, the tension tightening in your stomach even further. "Come for me, Y/N." He upped his pressure on your clit, still keeping the pace with his slow, deep thrusts.
The coiling tension finally snapped when he started sucking at your skin, your walls convulsing around him while your body shook under him, your hold on his shoulder blade weakening until you finally let go, arm landing on the mattress with a soft thud. He stilled his movement inside you, capturing your lips in a tender kiss while you came down from your high.
"I love you," he kept whispering between kisses. The words had you feeling the traitorous tears prickling in the back of your eyes, every part of you filled with the overpowering urge to say them back. Tell him that you felt the same.
Instead you wanted to slap yourself for the question that slipped from your mouth. "Wait what about you?"
The smirk he gave you in response had thrills shooting throughout your body, feeling the faintest tinge of embarrassment in the back of your mind when you felt your pussy clenching around him at the sight. His mouth stretched into a devilish grin as he thrusted into you in return, his eyes filled with an obvious mix of sexual and romantic intent.
"Don't you worry about me, sweetheart," he rasped, starting to slowly grind his hips again. "We're nowhere near done."
Tumblr media
He's not coming back. He left the bedroom and give it time, you're gonna hear him leave the house.
You were being irrational, and most of your mind recognized your thoughts for what they were: absolutely batshit crazy and dead wrong. For one, Conrad left the room without a stick of clothing covering him, telling you he was going to get water. He didn't know how to navigate most of your house so it would reasonably take him a few minutes to actually go get it and come back up.
That didn't stop you from making your way to the head of the bed, and crawling under the covers, drawing your knees to your chest as if you were bracing yourself for emotional impact. You caught a glimpse of your reflection on the full-length mirror, instinctively bringing your hand up to your hair to start working at the knots and tangles that developed over the last few hours.
Conrad came back to the room at that moment, holding a water bottle and two cups, giving you a soft smile as he looked on at all the effects from your lovemaking. "You look like an angel…perched on a cloud." He handed you your cup before pouring one for himself, raising an eyebrow at you when you remained sitting motionless and staring at him blankly. "What is it, sweetheart?"
"I just--I thought you were just gonna get for--"
"Myself?" You nodded at him once he finished for you, making him click his tongue in disappointment, realizing what kind of experiences you'd had before. "You're making it too easy for me to spoil you. I could never be so selfish." He briefly touched his glass to yours, the clinking sound filling the room before you both downed your drinks.
Even while he climbed back onto the bed, situating himself beside you and pulling you into his arms, your irrational thoughts that he'll redress himself in a few minutes time and leave plagued your mind.
"You're looking at me like you expect me to disappear," he murmured, lightly tracing along the lines of your face with his fingertips. "What's wrong, Y/N?"
Come on, you stupid little scaredy cat just tell him. Three words. Three monosyllabic words so simple a kid can say them. Just say it.
"You're still here," you blurted out, immediately wanting to swallow your tongue when his face dropped.
Wrong three words, you fucking idiot.
"Do you want me to leave?" His words came out strained, as if it physically hurt him to say them.
"No, I don't. It's just…I expect it. And if I can be honest I'm still kind of…waiting."
"Waiting for what?"
You pursed your lips, a part of you already feeling silly for the words about to come out your mouth. "Post-coital clarity?"
He let out a slow sigh, his hold tightening around you while he cupped your face with his free hand, stroking along your cheekbone with his thumb. "And what in the world is that?"
"It's this--Honestly it's silly, really--"
"It doesn't seem silly to you." He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips, pulling you closer when you melted against him at the gesture. "So it's not silly to me. Tell me what it is."
You took a deep breath, your fingers absentmindedly tracing along the lines on his abdomen while you explained. "It's this phenomena that…once you've slept with someone, the attraction goes away. Your mind's more clear, you're no longer overpowered by this attraction and you realize that the person you just had sex with isn't as appealing as they were before you got together."
It took him a few seconds before he spoke again, maneuvering you so that you were now on top of him, straddling his stomach, his hands skimming up and down your sides.
"Why is it so hard for you to accept that I love you?"
The question seemed so ridiculous to you. "Because nobody ever has. Nobody does--"
"You're wrong," he cut you off, pulling you close until your chests were pressed together. "I know it might not happen often but it's happening now. You're wrong, and I'm living proof of it. Because I'm here. I'm here and I love you. The only clarity that came to me is that I want more than anything for us to become more. For what we shared tonight be more than a one-time thing."
He wrapped his arms tighter around you, pulling you into a tender kiss that had your heart fluttering when he licked into your mouth, his tongue gliding against yours. "I'm no good with words," you said breathlessly when he broke the kiss, his chest heaving against yours. "I've never been able to say how I feel, I can't--"
"Shh it's alright, sweetheart," he breathed, holding you by the back of your neck to rest your forehead against his. "You don't need those fancy words you use in your report. It's just us here. Whatever you wish to tell me, in the plainest words--"
"I love you, too."
Tumblr media
A/N: I've finally finished this mega chonker of a piece! And I've given 'you deserve better' Conrad his happy ending with his precious bb 🥹🥹
Next up is the final story in the Kinktober 2023 initial goal: Fingering with President Loki 😳👀 And lemme just tell y'all now…it's gonna be at least 2k words long because I haven't even gotten to the smutting yet 🥴
'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog
Kinktober taglist: @azula-karai-27
323 notes · View notes
jadehuntressqueen · 1 year
Text
Sing For Me
Warnings: hospitals, implied death
Masterlist
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Coughs wracked your frail body as you lay on the stiff hospital bed. The monitor beeped pitifully in the background. A comforting thumb rubbed along your hand. You knew that he was more afraid than you. You wouldn��t have to miss anyone when you were gone. He on the other hand would feel your absence in every moment of life.
“You need to rest,” he murmured when your coughing subsided.
A tear trickled down your cheek. “I don’t want you to be alone.”
A wobbling smile crept onto his face. “I’ll be okay, you won’t hurt anymore so I can be okay with it.”
“Sing for me.”
He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. Pulling his chair closer to the side of your bed he began.
“But you’ll never be alone, I’ll be with you from dusk till dawn. I'll be with you from dusk till dawn. Baby, I'm right here,” Your eyes fell shut.
“I'll hold you when things go wrong,” his voice broke, “I'll be with you from dusk till dawn. I'll be with you from dusk till dawn.”
A shallow breath crept past your lips as a tear splashed onto the tiled floor. “Baby, I'm right here.”
1K notes · View notes
holdmytesseract · 1 month
Text
🚨 Updating Taglists🚨
Time to update the last taglist! 🤗
Tom Hiddleston + all his characters
🎬 includes Tom & all his characters, except Loki 🎬
Current tags: @lady-rose-moon @smolvenger @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @captain-camille @lovingchoices14 @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @november-rain-guns @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @lokiforever @vbecker10 @jaidenhawke @crimson25 @km-ffluv @cakesandtom @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @dustychinchilla74 @javagirl328 @frzntrx @coldnique @eleniblue
You guys are already added to the new taglist: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @multifandom-worlds @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @huntedmusicgardenn @stupidthoughtsinwriting @hisredheadedgoddess28
83 notes · View notes
loki-cees-all · 29 days
Text
Fiji {James Conrad x Female Reader Drabble}
Tumblr media
Cee's James Conrad Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link
Pairing : James Conrad x Female Reader
Summary : A much-needed vacation for you and Conrad leads to nothing but lots of skin, sunshine, and the bluest blue you’ve ever seen.
W/c : 1.5k words
Content / Warnings : Established relationship, skinny-dipping, hurt/comfort (focus on the comfort for a change), some lingering angst, and just a touch of smut.
18+ Only - Minors DNI
Tumblr media
━━━ · · ━━━ … ━━━ · · ● · · ━━━ … ━━━ · · ━━━
Daylight had only broken two hours prior, but you were already in the ocean. 
The bright cerulean sky overhead blended seamlessly with the crystal blue water below. At your shoulders, gentle and warm waves lapped at your skin, and in the distance, the calls of the local parrot finches provided the perfect soundscape for the island. Deep below the water’s surface, docile sand soothed the aching muscles of your feet, and if you submerged yourself completely in the water, you’d be able to see for almost a mile along the ocean floor. 
That is, if you were interested in thinking about anything besides the gorgeous man wrapped around you. 
Conrad had grumbled when you’d woken him up so early, just barely four hours after setting up camp and passing out on the vacant beach together. The face he’d made while trying desperately, and failing, to pull you back into the sleeping bag was infuriatingly adorable. But once his eyes had opened enough to see you happily stripping for a naked morning swim, his attitude had changed almost instantly. 
“Is this what you had in mind when you demanded a midnight boat ride to Tivoa Island?” Conrad had grinned as he peeled off his t-shirt and began working on his jeans. His hungry eyes were glued to your frame as you pulled your tank top overhead and then shimmied your shorts down your hips; his fingers, not quite as awake as his eyes were at that point, had fumbled with the buttons, struggling to free himself fast enough and catch up with you. 
You had laughed in response, walking backwards towards the water, taunting him with your nude form and an innocent smile on your lips. “I didn’t demand anything, darling. I politely requested that you find someone to give us a lift, that’s all.” 
The water was up to your knees by the time Conrad managed to catch up with you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and lifting you up into a backwards bearhug. And you had squealed with delight as he buried his nose in your neck and began to move you both deeper into the healing waters.
“If I had known that this little excursion was going to include skinny-dipping, I would have found us a ride a lot sooner than midnight, my dear…” he had murmured against your skin, breathing in your scent and running his hands along your hips once you lowered you back to your feet. 
Conrad’s touch was heavenly - his skin was so soft and soothingly warm, his every muscle so steady and strong against your back. At that moment, you were happier than you’d ever been. 
You’d already spent ten whole days and nine entire nights with him - every minute was kept all to yourselves, and there were absolutely no interruptions. But still, neither of you could keep your eyes and hands off each other the entire time. This was by far the longest you’d spent together since that very first meeting back in Saigon, and the entire trip had been nothing short of perfection - exploring new places and cultures along the islands of Fiji by day, and making considerable amounts of love by night. Everything the soul needed to set itself right again. 
Conrad hadn’t been sold on the idea of a vacation when you first broached the subject; he was a working man by birth, a desperate martyr looking for some way to be of use, and never one to turn down a job that needed doing. Whether any particular job actually needed doing was always up for debate, in your opinion, and after the tragedy on Skull Island, you were prepared to become relentless in your insistence that he needed to rest. 
But much to your surprise, he had immediately given in. He acquiesced, without any further struggle or argument, and took you up in your offer to travel for pleasure instead of pain. Because something horrible on that island had finally broken him, and it killed you to see it. 
Initially, he hadn’t wanted to discuss it at all…much in the same way he never wanted to talk about the war. You didn’t want to pry or to push in respect for his privacy, but you knew whatever still haunted him was deep and painful haunting. Even months later, he still had nightmares, and he’d wake up with a start, bolting upright and shouting orders at the long lost ghosts of Skull Island. 
And all you could do was hold Conrad tight, hoping that somewhere along the way, between the sun and the moon and the water, he’d finally be able to unburden himself. 
It was the third night in Lautoka, while basking in the afterglow of the second round of lovemaking that evening, when he finally opened up about the horrors of that place. Conrad wasn’t usually one for being upfront about his feelings, especially the negative ones, but he actually admitted to being absolutely terrified, for what was probably only the fourth or fifth time in his entire life. 
But he wasn’t necessarily scared of the monsters, or of the people - no, he had been frightened of never seeing you again. Of never getting to hold you, or make love to you again - and that fear was something he just couldn’t continue living with. With you, there was just too much for him to lose. And if there was one thing trackers hated the most, it was being unable to regain something precious. 
So now here you both were, standing back to chest in the Pacific Ocean, bathing in the sunlight and letting the waves purge away the aches and pains buried deep within both of your souls. Conrad was feeling so much better; he was smiling and laughing again, he was appreciating the little things, he was looking forward to the future. He was alive, and thus, so were you. 
Because you were loved here, cradled in Conrad’s arms and floating amongst the waves of his heart. And he was safe here, protected by you and the sunshine and the gentle breeze, from every dark shadow and every monster that still lingered in his painful memories. The gentle breeze blew away the ashes of the past, and the graceful waves paved the way for a quiet, simple life. 
Nothing could hurt either of you here, and absolutely everything could heal you. 
Conrad squeezed your hips again as he pressed lazy kisses along your neck and shoulder, and you were suddenly reminded of the time constraints against you both. The boat would be heading back to Lautoka at exactly noon, and the docks were just under a half hour’s walk from the beach. As much as you’d love to spend another week on this remote and exquisite beach, the rest of your belongings and food were still tucked away in your room at the Seabreeze Hotel…
“We should probably get a move on, if we don’t want to miss the boat back…” you murmured reluctantly, even as your heart raced while his lips moved up to your ear. Conrad let out an enticing and teasing hum as he nibbled on your earlobe, and a shiver of excitement ran down your spine as he pressed himself harder against your backside. 
“Yes, and we should probably have a snack before we go…” Conrad’s fingertips dipped between your thighs, grazing you softly with the most delicate of touches and leaving your brain short-circuiting in bewilderment. 
“I think there’s, uh…crackers…in my bag…” you breathed heavily, feeling lost in his touch again. Conrad’s fingers matched the gentle ocean waves as they pushed and withdrew, gathering up any leftover anguish and leaving nothing except euphoria in their wake. 
He continued that motion for a few more moments, winding you up for another beautiful release. Your head fell back against his shoulder and your lips parted with heavy breaths as your hips rolled with his fingers. Just as you were about to come, your fingernails dug into his forearms and you moaned his name in just the way he liked. 
But shockingly, right when you were on the edge of an incredible orgasm, Conrad completely withdrew his fingers and scooped you up bridal style instead. You gasped in surprise and your brow furrowed with irritation at the sudden reversal he'd pulled on you. But as you hooked an arm around his shoulder and looked up into his glittering blue eyes, at those irises shining brighter than the ocean and the sun combined, your heart outright stopped in your chest, like you were seeing him for the very first time again.
Conrad’s skin had grown so very tan from the sun, and so very soft from all the salt in the atmosphere. As his skin had grown tanner, new and more impressive freckles had popped up along his high cheekbones and broad shoulders. His beautiful eyes sparkled in the bright light reflecting off the water - the bluest blue you’d ever seen - and you could have sworn he’d acquired several new laugh-lines since this much-needed vacation had begun. 
He was healing. He was whole again, and the ocean had done that for you both. The ocean forces you to let go of everything holding you down, so you could focus on clinging to what was actually important. Nothing else on this planet could ever compare to the ocean’s power. 
Conrad just laughed as he carried you back to shore. “Oh, let me assure you, darling…It’s not food I’m hungry for.” 
━━━ · · ━━━ … ━━━ · · ● · · ━━━ … ━━━ · · ━━━
Click here to be added to my James Conrad fic tag list! 💙
66 notes · View notes
Text
𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝
Tumblr media
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as violence, blood, mentions of cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your suspicions lead to a discovery you'll never forget. (Part of the Illuminate AU)
Characters: James Conrad
Note: This is our last installment for October. I had a lot of fun with this and I hope you did too. Let me know what you think about me possibly opening drabble reqs/imagines as little continuations of these fics.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
Tumblr media
“Be careful,” you gird as James grabs his suitcase, his black wool coat buttoned up under his grey scarf, “the roads are awful. Are you sure you can’t delay?”
You cross your arms and shiver as the frigid winter seeps in around the front door behind him. He gives a mournful shake of his head. He looks gaunt and ashen, a feat for someone with his bone structure. He makes himself smile and steps towards you, cradling the back of your head as he draws you close to kiss your forehead.
You close your eyes and tilt your head up, claiming a kiss on the mouth too. He pulls you close, embracing you tightly. You feel him tense before he lets you go. Your anxiety heightens as you retract and look him up and down.
It isn’t unusual for him to travel for work, you knew that when accepted the job, and you can’t complain for the profit of his efforts. Yet, the last few times, you’ve had this uneasy feeling. A little voice that keeps whispering to you that something is amiss. There’s something you’re not being told.
“I will,” he avows, “love you.”
“Love you too,” you echo on impulse. You mean it but that doubt nips inside of you. 
“I’ll call…” he says, “please, don’t worry too much about me.”
“I always worry,” now that is true.
“Stay in tonight,” he says as he tucks his gloves into his pocket and hooks his finger through his keys, “it’s cold.”
“Trust me, I won’t be out,” you scoff, “bye babe.”
“Bye,” he says reticently, unable to restrain a twiddle in his fingers.
He faces the door and lets himself out. You follow behind him as he pulls the door shut and you push on it to make sure it catches. You hover your hand on the lock and watch him through the slender pane of glass set into the door. He looks back as he gets to the car, raising his hand in a half-hearted wave.
He could cancel, couldn’t he? Say the weather was too much, the roads icy. He should be able to and he hardly seems eager to go. Or perhaps, only guilty…
You can’t wait another month for your answer. You back away from the door without locking it and take out your phone. You pull up the app and see the little dot in your driveway, backing out slowly. You shouldn’t have done it, you shouldn’t have slipped the tag in his bag, but you know you won’t sleep either way.
You’ll wait ten minutes before you leave. You slide open the closet and pull out your jacket and boots. You’ll have to keep your distance, try not to catch up. If he gets to the interstate, you’ll turn back. You’ll know then if he’s lying or not.
🌕
The sky darkens quickly. With your headlights off, it's even more umbrous. A full moon is expected and would help illuminate the road if it even deigns to emerge from behind the clouds.
You follow the dot on your phone, driving slowly to keep a safe distance, to not be seen. Your husband's care turns away from the interstate and your dread mounts. He doesn't head for the country roads either.
It's only as you take the next turn and hit gravel that you realise exactly where you are. You're headed into the industrial district. What a choice for a hookup. You're convinced now.
You dim the screen of your phone as the dot of the airtag blinks closer and closer in the app. You steer slowly over the stony lot past one of the block factories and past an inactive smokestack. You stop just as you spot the idling tail lights of James’ car.
You shut off your engine and watch as he does the same. You watch him through the darkness, the pillow clouds of the winter’s night casting him in ominous shadows. He gets out, his tall silhouette slightly hunched as he nearly staggers forward. He shakes his head as if he’s dizzy.
He nears the large building before him, soft light radiating around the crack of the large metal door. You note that he doesn’t bring his bag from the back seat. You already know this isn’t business, but that’s all the proof you need to sink into your despair.
You watch as the tall metal door slides back from within and he dips his head as he’s greeted by another figure within. You see only her outline. Her. You shudder and tear your gaze away, staring at the stone on your finger. You hear the heavy shift of the door as it rolls shut, clanging as it’s locked from the other side.
Fuck. What now? You know what he’s been up to but you don’t have a plan beyond that. Do you drive home and cry into a glass of wine? Do you get out and confront him? Tell him not to come back.
Suddenly, the world brightens around you as the layers of clouds recede and reveal the full face of the moon. The silver light beams down and shines on James’ car and the front of the dingy white industrial building.
Your eyes sting as you find yourself paralysed. Go back or forward. You don’t know what way to go.
A starling growl rips through the whistling wind and jars you. You look around, horrified by the noise, something eerie you can’t place. A wolf? Around here? You grip the wheel tight as your eyes return to the dented facade of the abandoned factory.
Your inaction, your indecision holds you there. Deep down, you didn’t want to believe. You couldn’t. You love James so much that maybe you can get through this.
Your hopeless thoughts are interrupted by the sudden shatter of glass. Shocked, you look up to the rain of shards as they fall from the second story of the building. A dark shape plummets from the height and heaps onto the ground, twitching. Oh god, it can’t be!
You lean forward, trying to see if the figure is still moving. Is it a person? Is it him? That fear submerges you and cuts through your hurt and anger. You get out without another doubt, leaving the car door open and you race towards the puffing body on the ground.
As you near, you slow, stopping just a few feet away as you realise it can’t possibly be your husband. It isn’t even human. The… creature raises its head, sniffing with its long snout as it bears its teeth with a ravenous snarl. Its silver eyes meet yours as you stumble back in terror.
What is that?
You shriek as it plants its feet and rises. You step backwards, twisting on your heel as you hurl yourself back towards your car. You run without looking back, hearing that thing pursuing you with its gritty breaths and crashing paws. No, no, no!
You pant as your shoulder hits the door of your car. You barely keep it from closing full and pull it back. As you do, you feel a fiery rip through your flesh, right down the back of your leg, ripping through your muscle. You kick back and launch yourself into the front seat.
You turn and pull the door shut, catching the wolfish monster’s head between it and the metal frame. You cling to the door as it snaps its jaw at you, growling and slobbering your leg throbs hotly. You shift the door and inch and pull it shut, slamming it against the beast's neck. It yelps and as it recoils and you let up enough for it to reel back in the dirt.
You quickly lock the doors and the windows and face the wheel. Your leg is almost impossible to control as it shakes, slick with blood as it seeps through your jeans. You’re dizzy as you feel your strength draining fast. 
You won’t make it far if you don’t stem the flow. Fast! The beast hops onto your hood, its claws denting it as it hammers on the metal. You take your scarf from around your neck and tie it above your knee, tight, then tear away the dangling patch of your jeans to wrap the gash down your calf. 
You shake as you sit back and turn the keys in the slot. You feel the fire radiating up your thigh, like your veins are filling with acid. The creature bends back the corner of your hood and the rumble of your engine dies as it buries its dagger-like claws into it. Fuck!
The monster turns its silver irises back on you, breath puffing as it watches you through the windshield. It spins and raises its paws, bringing them down on the glass, sending a spider web of cracks through it. It rears back again but before it can bring down the shattering hit, a blur swipes it off the front of the car.
You hear snarling and snapping. You squint as the edges of your vision blur. You’re losing too much blood. You can feel the world fading from you.
You glance over as another lupine creature tangles with the first. They’re fighting, rolling in the dirt and snow, thrashing and biting. Your head lolls back against the seat and your gaze wanders over to the building as you resign yourself to the weakness dragging your eyelids down.
In your final moments, worry bubbles over and pangs in your chest. That beast. James was inside, had it hurt him too? Is he still alive?
🌕
The world pulses around you, just on the other side of your unconscious. Blustering gales pound against metal, sweeping through and glossing over your raw cheeks. The rest of you is enshrined in ice, the dull hum of hot air blowing from something electric. 
Your nose is dry and your lips are crackly, your body bound in achy knots. Your leg is emblazoned in fire as you quake, the frigid cold invading your very person. You cling to the blanket cocooned around you, groaning as your eyelids slowly lift.
There’s something musty in the air, a smell that makes your stomach churn. And your dry tongue is stained with the residue of something vile, metallic and visceral. You swallow and cough, rattling as you’re certain the pungent scent of blood is your own. 
Visions of your wolfish attacker return to you and have you whining. Is this death? Purgatory perhaps. The high ceilings and iron rafters watching over you, a moon wrought in similar material hanging at one end of large space, with hands that tick like a clock, the words waxing and waning twisted on each side of the frame.
You cough again, a hoarse deep crackle that catches in your throat. You hear something, the soft clang of metal under rubber, soles nearing you as a shadow looms along your peripheral. A hush that hisses before a stolid heat spreads across your forehead.
“Shhhhh, honey,” James’ voice comforts you as it drawls like syrup, “don’t move, alright?”
He comes around the other side of the couch you lay on, his features narrowing in and out of focus. He drags close a chair and sits near you, taking your hand in his, doting on it as he kisses your knuckles. He tilts his head to press his brow to your fingers, as if praying.
“I’m sorry,” he utters, “I tried…”
“James,” you croak, “what…”
“I think… I don't think I was too late,” he doesn’t raise his head, “but I don’t know if it was the right thing.”
“Please,” you rasp.
“The moon wasn’t gone yet, it wasn’t…” He murmurs, “I wasn’t too late…”
You don’t understand his ramblings. He rocks as he clings to your hands, raising his head as his eyes glisten. He watches you, terrified and ashen. He leans in and stands slightly to place a kiss on your forehead.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he cradles your cheek, “this is what I never wanted…”
“You…” you close your eyes and remember, “lied?”
“I had to,” he says, “to protect you. To try– if you knew what I am–” he stops himself. He shifts, the chair legs scraping, and you feel the blanket tug up your legs. You shiver as he moves your legs. He unwraps it from the fabric rolled around it. He lets his thumb trace up the scabbed skin and lets out another shaky breath, “it worked…”
“What is going on?” You hiss and snap your eyes open, whimpering as you try to rip your leg away from his touch.
“Oh, no,” he pulls back and puts his head in his hands, “oh, sweetheart, I don’t know… I never wanted you to hate me–”
You wince as metal rumbles, clattering loudly behind him, revealing a grey winter morning and letting in a virulent gust. James stands, nearly toppling the chair, and faces the new arrival. He squares his shoulder, a formidable man even without his posturing.
“You!” He snarls, “shut the damn door!”
“Huh?” The female responds with a grunt, “good morning to you too–”
“You fucking idiot!” He storms towards her just as she slides the door shut, the echo of it hitting the frame rattles you. And his timbre. You've never heard him so angry, or even speak like that. “You— You—”
You see the woman, a blond much shorter than him, but unintimidated by his advance. Her blonde hair is tinged scarlet at the ends, something red caked down her chest, shamelessly peeking out from beneath her shredded attire. She puts her hands on her hips as she faces him boldly.
“What?” She challenges, eyes wandering to you, “oh… who’s this, Conrad?”
He sneers and steps into her line of sight, “my wife. Who you scratched–”
“I… I did?” She scoffs.
“Fuck off, Yelena,” he shoves her, “don’t play fucking stupid with me.”
“Oh, you want to be a bitch?” She retorts, “what happened to pack rules. We don’t touch each other.”
“You were going to kill her–” Your head spins at their conversation. What are they talking about?
“She shouldn’t have been here!”
You hug the blanket as your teeth chatter. Kill you? Flashes of dark fur, the grind of bending metal, the hiss of the engine as it dies, and the beastly silver eyes. No, it can’t be.
“What are you?” You whisper.
Their argument quiets and the both turn to you, faces shadowed with guilt. The woman, Yelena, he called her, glances at him from the corner of her eyes. His shoulders drop and he hangs his head.
“She is still alive,” she comments. “Maybe I didn’t cut very deep.”
“Deep enough,” he shakes his head, “I had to…” he can’t finish the sentence. She frowns and pats his back, “you saved her life. You did what you had to and…” she smirks, “it isn’t so bad.”
“Speak for yourself,” he growls and shrugs her off.
He crosses to you again and resumes his seat. You watch him, speechless with confusing. You put your hands to the stiff cushion under you and push yourself up. You grunt at the effort it takes and your eyes find the ripple gash along the back of your leg. You stare at the crackly brown scabbing.
“How long…” you wonder.
“Ten hours. Look, I’ll explain but–”
Ten hours. A cute that serious couldn't heal that quickly. That's impossible.
The large door rolls open again. He cringes and his forehead lines with frustration at the interruption. You strain to see past him as a couple enters, the man striding nonchalantly, buck naked as a woman follows wrapped in a plaid blanket. She’s disheveled as he brazenly taps her ass, urging her ahead of him before he slides the door shut with an effortless nudge. 
“Of course, Jesus,” James looks back over his shoulder, “Kraven, put something on. The fuck. What happened to not drawing attention?”
“Mm, it’s nice out,” the other man, Kraven grins, curling his arm around the woman who seems less than comforted by his embrace. She looks exhausted. “Oh, and who is this? So worried for me bringing back stragglers?”
James rolls his eyes and looks back to you. He’s quiet as he gives you a helpless expression. He stands and leans over you, keeping his voice low, “I’ll explain when it’s not chaos.”
He tries to press a kiss to your forehead but you turn your head so he can only peck your temple. Explain what? Who are these people? Where is she? The woman who must’ve drawn him into all this.
James crosses the room and snatches up another blanket, throwing it at the naked man. “A bit of decency.”
“Hey, this is my home,” Kraven snips.
The woman grabs the blanket as it drapes from his shoulder and she puts it around his waist, knotting it at the top. He lets her, unbothered entirely. He bends his head side to side, cracking the tension from it.
“Where’s the fucking coffee?”
“Language,” James warns as he looms before you.
“Kettle’s boiling,” an unfamiliar voice squeaks and another woman appears from the edge of the room. You have no idea where she came from. 
Your head is pounding from the building wall of sounds around you. You hear the kettles now, heating up slowly, and the blasting blow of the electric heater, the wailing winds, the pulsing of heartbeats all around you. You cover your ears and cry out, “be quiet!”
“Ah, I see, a new friend,” Kraven muses.
“His wife,” Yelena explains.
“Another?” The quiet woman who drifts like a ghost adds.
“What happened to not shitting where you eat?” Yelena snips, “am I the only one who doesn’t bring their scraps home?”
“What scraps?” A voice comes from above and you peer up at a dark-haired man watching from the second level.
“Ah, don’t start, thrall-fucker,” Yelena sneers up at the man. The woman who stands near the shaking kettle looks away guiltily as the couple wrapped in blankets peek at her. Yelena chuckles, “oh, you didn’t know?”
“Quietttttttt,” another voice adds to the chaos as a tall blonde man appears at the top of the stairs, “she is sleeping.”
“Mm, and his precious little doll,” Yelena mumbles as she blows a raspberry. “When did you all get so goddamn cheesy?”
The kettle suddenly whistles, carving a cavern in your skull. You cover your ears and writhes, screaming again. Everything needs to stop!
“Enough!” James hollers, “Belova, Kemp, Kraven, Warlock, here. The rest, go!”
The room stills. The exchanges of looks, some amused, others skeptical, a few frightened. The woman in the blanket moves first as the man taps her arm, then the woman near the kettle follows her up the stairs as the tall blond descends past them and the dark-haired man above makes his way down without urgency.
Several doors above close as you look at those who remain. Yelena, that man Kraven, and the two other men. James turns to you, “Yelena, make my wife a coffee as I sort this out.”
“Is she dying?” The dark-haired man in wooly sweater asks. The other smells the air and his narrow eyes focus on you.
“She’s turning,” the blond declares.
“She is my wife,” James puts his hand up, “alright, so let me goddamn explain this to her.”
A few shrugs but no real response. Yelena pours the water that sounds like a tidal wave to you. James stands behind the armchair as he watches you.
“Look, this isn’t easy so I will be entirely clear. That… wolf you saw last night was Yelena, that woman there. And the other, if you recall, that…” his throat bobs, “was me. And these others, Kraven,” he gestures to the bare-chested man, “Adam,” the tall blond, “and Steve,” the man with the dark swoop of hair, “are the same. All cursed. Like me and now, you.”
“What–”
“I had to… you would die if I didn’t–”
You look at the ceiling, searching as your heart flutters. You don’t understand. It’s somehow not as bad yet worse than what you feared. He’s not cheating but he lied to you all the same. And now… if he had just told you, you wouldn’t have come. But would you have believed him?
Your eyes fall upon the metal-moon hung on the wall, the long arms marking the phases of the moon. Last night was a full moon…
“You’re…”
“A monster,” James confirms, “I’m very sorry. I couldn’t tell you. Maybe I should’ve tried…” he sighs and sits again, taking your hand, “I won’t ask forgiveness, it is entirely selfish to put this on you, but you will not be alone. Or judged. We only do what we must to survive.”
“What you must… you…”
“There are simple rules. When the moon is full, you’ll change. You can’t stop it but you must heed it. If you do not feed by sunrise,” he pauses and takes a breath. Yelena approaches with a mug and you take it dumbly, unsure what else to do, “then you die. It’s us or them.”
Your eyes gloss and you shake your head. What does that mean? You know, but…
“Last night…” you eke out.
“It wasn’t much,” he squeezes your free hand, “enough to keep you alive. With me.” 
He has the sense to look mortified. You wiggle your hand free and turn your head. You can’t look at him. It’s not just what he’s done to you, but the thought of what he’s done to others, and what he’ll continue to do. What he wants you to do. What you have to do.
You swallow and stare at the black depths of your coffee. You feel your audience watching you. These beasts.
“I want to go home,” you murmur.
“Alright, I’ll take you…” he agrees softly.
“Now,” you demand, “away from these monsters.”
“Ha, you’re one of us–” Kraven begins.
“Shut up,” Adam barks at him, “James, we understand. Take her home. You are always welcome for the moon.”
“Wow, dinner and a show,” Steve snickers, “pretty good night if you ask me.”
Their casual attitudes are callous in your ears. Is this what you’ll become? Apathetic? Inhuman?
Last night, you were ready to do anything to keep your husband. You were even going to forgive him for straying from your marriage. But this, you don’t know if you can ever get past this.
101 notes · View notes
variant-lokitty · 1 year
Text
happiest birthday to my ultimate london boy! ❤️
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
338 notes · View notes
Text
Last Updated: 2023-10-28
Tumblr media
Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite James Conrad stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.
Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning
Tumblr media
✑ Combat Lessons│Prt. II│Prt. III by sserpente • 18+ • 〔E〕 •
Summary: "Imagine [your father, hiring] Captain James Conrad,… to train you [in combat]."
Tumblr media
✑ Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better by sserpente • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •
Summary: "Imagine you and James Conrad [constantly arguing] until you [getting] stranded on an uncharted island where you have to rely on each other to survive. Suddenly, grudges are forgotten, romantic things are said, and you realize you [might not] hate each other after all..."
✑ Bind Me by lady-rose-moon • 18+ • 〔E᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "When you see that your husband is troubled by his time on Skull Island, you suggest doing something entertaining."
✑ Caving into Desire│Prt. II by sserpente • 18+ • 〔E᜶A〕 •
Summary: "Imagine James Conrad and you seeking shelter in a cave after a life-threatening incident in the wilderness. Quite challenging when you cannot stand each other—at least that's what you think until you suddenly catch him masturbating all the while calling out your name..."
✑ Caught in a Love Web by screw-real-life-i-pick-fandoms • 〔F᜶A〕 •
Summary: After rescuing you from one of Skull Islands' giant spiders, James finally finds the courage to tell you everything he wanted to say months ago.
✑ Dancing in the Rain by sserpente • 16+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •
Summary: "Imagine, [while] stranded on [Skull] Island, convincing Captain James Conrad to dance [with you] in the rain...."
✑ Dangerous Paradise by holdmytesseract • 14+ • 〔E᜶M〕 •
Summary: "As a journalist, you join a expedition to a mysterious island called 'Skull Island' - which turns out to be a literal death trap. But with all the danger you are facing, there is at least one good thing... The incredibly hot tracker of the team, Captain James Conrad..."
✑ Don't Touch That by just-the-hiddles • 18+ • 〔E〕 •
Summary: "As a botanist for MONARCH, you can spy potentially deadly vegetation a mile away. Unfortunately, James Conrad cannot, and the thinly veiled sexual tension between… you is about to explode."
✑ I've Got You by lov3nerdstuff • 16+ • 〔E᜶C〕 •
Summary: "Imagine being on Skull Island... and Conrad shines a flashlight out into the darkness, only [to see] several pairs of eyes to [staring] back... The second you try to bolt… he [pulls] you against his firm chest, and [whispers in your ear not to move a muscle]."
✑ Keep Me Safe by muddyorbsblr • 18+ • 〔E᜶C〕 •
Summary: "You run into a tent for safety after being chased by a massive insect-like creature while collecting flora samples from Skull Island. The tent belongs to James Conrad."
✑ Let's Stay Together by just-the-hiddles • 18+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "MONARCH has finally allowed James to return home to London after the fiasco on Skull Island. He finds you at home and remembers what he had been missing [while] he [was] gone."
✑ Lost and Found by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: After disappearing on a mission over five years ago, James is more than a little surprised to find you, his wife, alive and living with the locals on Skull Island.
✑ Nauseous by simplyrochellemari • 〔F᜶A〕 •
Summary: "You and James have [a] history [of] working together on cases, and your constant banter quickly takes a turn when you both get placed on the same assignment to Skull Island, and both of your lives are threatened."
✑ Not a Fever by muddyorbsblr • 18+ • 〔E〕 •
Summary: "You're quarantined in the laboratory with James Conrad as you try to determine what the effects of the pollen he was exposed to are."
✑ Rest by hopelessromanticspoonie • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "Conrad knows exactly what buttons to push to get you to come to bed."
✑ Uncharted Teritory by sserpente • 18+ • 〔E〕 •
Summary: "Imagine [being on an expedition] with James Conrad. [When] he finds you bathing under a waterfall, he [plans] on chiding you for leaving the camp alone, [however] when he [sees you're] naked [it gets] harder and harder [for him] to focus."
✑ Unexpected, But Loved All the Same by merakiaes • 〔M᜶F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
Summary: "James comes home from Skull Island and is greeted with a surprise he was not expecting."
✑ Use Me by ladycamillewrites • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: You help your husband let off some steam...
✑ You Deserve Better│Prt. II by muddyorbsblr • 18+ • 〔F᜶C〕 •
Summary: When all the plans you'd made for today go down the drain, the last person you expected shows up at your door to try turning the night around.
Tumblr media
✑ Abs by tomhiddleston-is-mischief • 〔F〕 •
✑ Admiration│Prt. II
✑ Adventure by goddessofmischief • 〔A᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Be Careful Now by justauthoring • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Best Hiders, the by jewels2876 • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
✑ Brilliance of a Blanket Fort by hopelessromanticspoonie • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Dear Daddy… by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
✑ Every One of Your Scars by lady-rose-moon • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Family Camping Trip by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
✑ Indescribable by justauthoring • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ It's Okay to Be Afraid by justauthoring • 〔F᜶C〕 •
✑ Just Like That│Prt. II by jewels2876 • 〔F〕 •
✑ Just Passing Through by goddessofmischief • 〔F〕 •
✑ Just this Once by sserpente • 16+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •
✑ Motivation by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ No Lizards in the House! by ladyfluff • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ No More by justauthoring • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Operation Sheets by hopelessromanticspoonie • 18+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Promise Me by ladyfluff • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Promises by hopelessromanticspoonie • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Rain by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
✑ Smiling Down at You by justauthoring • 〔A〕 •
✑ Waiting by hopelessromanticspoonie • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
Tumblr media
✑ Dates w/ James Conrad… by tomhiddleston-is-mischief • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ James Conrad as a Father… by thepilotanon • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
Tumblr media
See Also: Navigation | James Conrad Master Index
Authors: @goddessofmischief || @holdmytesseract || @hopelessromanticspoonie || @jewels2876 || @justauthoring | @just-the-hiddles || @lady-rose-moon || @ladycamillewrites || @ladyfluff || @lov3nerdstuff || @merakiaes || @muddyorbsblr || @screw-real-life-i-pick-fandoms || @simplyrochellemari || @sserpente || @thepilotanon || @tomhiddleston-is-mischief ||
138 notes · View notes
lokidokieokie · 1 year
Text
Fic Recs
Hello, I’m alive!
Before we get to the fics, I’d just like to apologise for being extremely lazy and not doing anything with my tumblr account for the past two weeks. 
Fabulous authors have been out here producing impeccable content, so I am going to correct my issue and give you all the amazing fics that you may have missed out on :)
Loki Laufeyson
Tumblr media
What About the Plans We Made? by @wheredafandomat 
Captain’s Orders by @lokisgoodgirl
Thirty Seconds by @muddyorbsblr
My Best Friend by @vbecker10 part 1 linked
Not What it Looks Like by @wheredafandomat 
Swipe by @theaudacitytowrite part 1 linked
What He Doesn’t Know by @michelleleewise 
Practice Makes Perfect by @simplyholl masterlist linked
Bonded by @michelleleewise 
Sing Me To Sleep by @holdmytesseract 
Choices by @mochie85 
Cum Fly with Me by @wheredafandomat 
Captain’s Orders: New Depths by @lokisgoodgirl
Restraint by @coldnique 
The Selection by @lady-rose-moon masterlist linked
You Are My Queen by @vbecker10 
Claw and Order by @michelleleewise 
Something Real by @ladylovesloki masterlist linked
Relinquish the Crown: Obsessions & Fantasies by @muddyorbsblr 
Hot & Bothered by @lokisgoodgirl
Hail, Commander by @lokisgoodgirl
The Chambermaid by @wheredafandomat 
Little Joys by @lovelysizzlingbluebird 
Small Talks by @lovelysizzlingbluebird 
Big Misunderstandings by @lovelysizzlingbluebird 
Her Romeo by @michelleleewise part 1 linked
Drugs of Love, Love of Drugs by @pics-and-fanfics masterlist linked
Hot & Bothered: Snack Shack by @lokisgoodgirl
Asgard, Land of... Aphrodisiacs? by @thomase1​ 
I Need You Tonight by @wheredafandomat​ 
A Helping Hand by @peachyjinx​ 
Summoned by @muddyorbsblr​ part 1 linked
Magnus Martinsson
Tumblr media
Hypotheticals & Distractions by @muddyorbsblr 
Maintain Our Cover by @muddyorbsblr 
Jonathan Pine
Tumblr media
Paris by @muddyorbsblr 
Duty of Care by @muddyorbsblr 
James Conrad
Tumblr media
Keep Me Safe by @muddyorbsblr 
Will Ransome
Tumblr media
Measurements by @muddyorbsblr 
Confess Your Sins by @holymultiplefandomsbatman
Tom Hiddleston
Tumblr media
Birthday Boy by @simping-for-marvel 
Doctor Stephen Strange
Tumblr media
Only You by @make-me-imagine 
Attention by @futureplayboibunnie 
Sherlock Holmes
Tumblr media
A Queen for a Mindpalace by @strangelockd 
Stolen Love by @ncis-cm-hp-sherlock-imagines 
Sleepless Nights by @strrvnge 
Bucky Barnes
Tumblr media
In A Year’s Time by @mysecretlittlelibrary 
Betting by @traitorjoelite 
To Let You Win by @delaber 
Blooming Rage by @tee-swizzle 
Cupcake by @demonsandmischief 
Daddy’s Home by @starshipsofstarlord 
Baby Fever by @suitk0via 
Six Days by @tmpestuous 
One Step at a Time by @tmpestuous 
Nothing Breaks like a Heart by @buckybabesonly 
Protector by @buckybabesonly
My Girl by @girl-next-door-writes
Dumb Dumb by @nicestgirlonline 
For You Always by @jobean12-blog 
Make Me Forget by @povlvr 
Flirting and Football by @lovelybarnes 
Dog Tags by @lovelybarnes 
It Was Supposed to be a Confession Potion! by @buckylattes 
False God by @notafunkiller 
Metal Arms and Short Skirts by @buckyarchives part 1 linked
Keep Me Alive by @freyjhasdesiredreality
You’re a Masterpiece by @wndalovebot 
You Had One Job by @buckyalpine 
Secret Girlfriend by @jenwritesstories 
Right a Wrong by @starks-hero part 1 linked
Where Dreams Go to Die by @insomniumstella masterlist linked
It’s Just a Kiss by @witchywithwhiskey 
Wordpeddler by @heli0s-writes​ 
Unconventional Methods by @marvelouslizzie​ part 1 linked
173 notes · View notes
sarahscribbles · 2 months
Text
𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑.𝟏𝐤
𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Tumblr media
The soft rustle of the canvas flap breaks the easy silence inside your tent. There’s only one person it could be, yet an excited knot still twists tightly in the pit of your stomach.
You hear him button up the material, quieting the electric sounds still teeming from the jungle behind you, and then the soft shuffle of his boots on the floor. When you turn from dropping your watch and gold bangle into the little dish on your nightstand, James Conrad is in your tent, looking devastatingly gorgeous in a simple deep blue sweater and jeans. 
The sweater hugs him perfectly, accentuating those broad shoulders and his firm chest. You’ve caught stolen glimpses of the muscles that are hidden underneath - toned and defined and crying out to be touched - and the hazy memory makes part of you want to skip the preliminaries and drag him beneath the sheets of your small bed. 
Another small part of you, however, has suddenly turned shy. 
To have harboured a juvenile crush on this man for months only to then find out he feels the same, and to then find out he’s had the same filthy thoughts as you…
For some absurd reason, it makes you nervous.
“I thought you might have changed your mind,” you say, hoping he can’t hear the slight shakiness of your voice. 
You’re only half teasing him because part of you had been fearful that you wouldn’t see him tonight, but when you see a small smile start to tug at his lips, you feel the nerves begin to melt away to nothing. 
James shakes his head slowly and pins you in place with those striking blue eyes. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do what I did back there?” he says softly, closing the distance between you both and resting his hands on your hips.  
“An hour? Or whenever I started to piss you off? It was definitely a wild way to get me to shut up, but it might not work with everyone you get partnered with,” you reply, falling easily into teasing him as the last of your nerves dissolve into a pleasant warmth in the pit of your stomach. 
James rolls his eyes, but it’s in tandem with an amused smile spreading fully across his handsome face. “I’ll keep in mind that it only works on you, then.” 
“You better,” you reply, struggling to keep a grin from curling across your own face. “I get jealous easily, so if I hear you’ve been kissing any soldiers…,” 
The hands on your hips tug you closer until you’re chest to chest, and it’s only then that you snake your arms around his shoulders. They’re solid and firm beneath you, almost teasing you with the tantalising imagery of how his toned body might feel atop yours…
You suck in a shaky breath and try to force the thoughts from your mind, but it’s close to impossible with how James’ hands are now curled around your ass.
“The only person I plan on kissing from now on is you, if you’ll have me,” he says, sounding almost shy and nothing at all like the confident and forceful man you’ve come to know these past few months. 
It’s oddly endearing. 
The tip of his nose is already brushing lightly against yours, and you can feel your heart jackhammering in your chest from both his closeness and knowing that he wants you too. 
“Kiss me again. Please,” you murmur finally, unable to go another second without his mouth on yours. 
One large hand uncurls from your hips to slide up and cradle the base of your skull, holding you firmly in place as he presses his lips against yours. You let James take the lead, because it’s clear as night and day who’s going to be in charge.
Not that you mind one bit. 
His kiss is slow and deep as before, it’s just as soft, but you can detect a new hunger burning within him each time his tongue collides with yours. James moans quietly into your mouth and snakes an arm around your lower back, pulling you so tightly against him that you can feel the firm outline of his muscles beneath his sweater. 
It takes everything in you not to rip the damn thing from his chest.
Your body is flush against his, yet you can’t help but to try and mould yourself tighter against him as you kiss him back just as fiercely. James Conrad is all you know as he begins to walk you backwards - he’s all you can feel beneath your fingertips, all you can taste on your tongue, all you can smell as he envelops you - and he doesn’t stop until the backs of your knees hit the side of your camp bed. 
He grips you before you can tumble, and you fight the overpowering urge to whine when his warm lips leave yours. His hands are then cupping your face, thumbs softly stroking your cheeks, and the blacks of his eyes are blown wide with desire. 
“Are you sure?” he asks, panting slightly and scanning your face for the smallest sign of hesitation or reluctance. 
Something he wouldn’t find if he gazed at you for a thousand years. 
Feeling bold, you run your hands along the firm expanse of his back to cup his ass through those sinfully tight jeans, making sure to squeeze for good measure. You hear the quiet hitch of his breath and watch the silent bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. 
“I’m sure,” you reply with a smirk, and give his ass another playful pinch. 
“Do that again and I won’t be responsible for what happens the next time we do this,” he says so softly that you know it’s a warning. 
The smirk on your face only grows as you pinch the other cheek. 
“Reckless girl,” he teases, but you catch his smile before his mouth is quickly back on yours. 
This time, his kiss is frantic, so much so that it steals your breath from your lungs. He’s kissing you like there’s only moments remaining before you slip between his fingers, like he needs to commit the taste of you to heart. 
It’s dizzying and exhilarating and you suddenly become very conscious of something hard pressing against your thigh. 
WIth great care, James eases you backwards onto the small camp bed and the sheer size of him fills the small space. He’s still kissing you madly while learning all the dips and curves of your body beneath his hands, and your thighs fall apart all too easily to welcome him between them. 
It’s impossible to ignore the deep ache for him that’s settled into your bones. Each errant brush of his fingers against your skin only fans the flames of need that are raging through your blood. You need this man to claim you before the desire swallows you whole. 
James’ warm fingers begin to creep beneath the loose hem of your shirt, trailing slowly along your sides until his hands are cupping your breasts. The soft pads of his thumbs trace over the cups of your bra and explore the skin just above - it’s a touch that’s light as a feather, but it sends pure electricity jolting through you.
You moan shamelessly against his lips and arch off the sheets in a wordless plea for more, only to hear his quiet laughter rumble through his chest. 
“I should keep you waiting after earlier,” he taunts and rolls his hips against yours. You can feel how hard he is even through his jeans. It’s deliciously teasing and all you want is to feel is cock ease inside you. 
You wrap your arms tighter around his shoulders, as though it will make even an ounce of difference if he does decide to tease you, and offer him a perfect pout and pleading eyes. “Don’t. Please, Captain.”
James inhales sharply, and in one swift, sudden move he rips your shirt down the middle. “Wicked thing.” He smiles, his hands now hastily pulling at the waistband of your khaki shorts. “You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?”
“Maybe,” you concede, lifting your hips off the mattress to allow him to tug your shorts off in a single, fluid movement. He tosses them carelessly to the side without breaking eye contact, and it’s the fire you see burning there that makes you eagerly reach for his belt buckle. 
You know that he won’t keep you waiting - not this time, at least - because the need to fuck you into the mattress is oozing out of him. You can feel it when you successfully unbutton his jeans and push them over the swell of his perfect ass, letting your fingers trail around the tiny patch of exposed skin to ghost over his straining cock.
He’s bigger than you expected. 
James grunts and dips his head low between his shoulders. Briefly, you wonder how long he’s gone without during this posting. Something violent stirs to life in the pit of your stomach. 
It’s only too easy to start palming him through the material of his briefs. He breathes deeply and steadily with every brush of your hand, and you watch the veins in his forearms start to protrude as he tenses, very clearly enjoying your touch. 
Just when you think you’ve got the upper hand, James’ fingers swiftly reach out to curl around your wrist to stall your movements. He pins your hand easily to the mattress by your head and leans in until his warm breath is tickling your ear.
“That’s your second strike, darling.” 
Your smirk goes unseen by him. “Yes, Captain. You better get a move on before I hit three.” 
The sharp nip of his teeth at your earlobe makes you groan and roll your hips against his. “That’s what I’m waiting for,” he purrs. 
He pulls back to look at you and you smirk up at him. “And here I thought you were being romantic.” 
James releases his grip on your wrist to sit up on his knees. You watch mesmirised as he tugs his sweater over his head, finally granting you an unobstructed view of the firm muscles and defined chest that were hidden beneath. The man is beautiful - there’s no other way to describe him - and you almost whimper at the sight of the fine trail of hair that disappears beneath the band of his briefs. 
His eyes grow serious as he plants his hands either side of you, and you force yourself to focus on his face instead of his upper arms. “Tonight is about you and I, nothing more,” he says, almost like he’s reassuring you. 
Almost on instinct, you twist a hand into his hair to pull him in for a kiss. It’s wonderfully soft and his lips linger against yours when he pulls away. 
“The same won’t apply next time,” he murmurs wickedly.
You laugh beneath him while your fingers slide eagerly to push his briefs over his hips. “Is that a promise?” 
James helps in your attempt to get him out of his underwear and leans in for another blistering kiss when he’s finally, blessedly naked. “Absolutely.” 
His warm mouth trails along your jaw and down your chest. He doesn’t pull away even when his strong arm slips beneath your back to pull you off the bed, allowing him to expertly unhook your bra with one hand before setting you back down. 
It joins the growing pile of clothing already scattered across the floor of your tent. 
“Should I ask how you’re so good at that?” you ask, allowing your eyes to drift closed when he takes a nipple into his mouth. 
“Compulsory drag classes when you join the army,” James replies without missing a beat. 
You explode with laughter just as his thumb brushes over your naked breast. “What?!” 
His handsome face lifts from its journey along your torso to flash you a boyish grin. “I’m teasing, darling. But, I was a soldier.” 
It’s the only explanation he offers and you let it drop. 
Instead, you bask in the feel of his warm tongue circling one nipple while a thumb and forefinger pinch the other. You’re aching for him to remove your underwear and fuck you until you can no longer remember your name, but he seems content to have you writhing helplessly beneath him. 
“James…please. I can’t take it anymore. Please fuck me,” you plead when his mouth travels teasingly back to your neck. 
You can feel his cock brushing against your thigh. He’s hard and leaking and you don’t think you can go another second without having him buried inside you. 
He lazily trails his lips back to yours, kissing you in a way that’s almost sloppy, but it only makes you burn for him. “I thought you’d never ask.” 
James’ fingers curl around the band of your underwear, easily sliding them down your thighs until they too are being tossed to the floor of your tent. For a moment he doesn’t say or do anything, only runs his eyes hungrily over you like a man starved. 
It almost makes you want to hide yourself from him. 
You don’t get the chance, though, because he just as quickly settles back between your spread thighs. He supports himself on one arm while his other hand rises to cup your cheek.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” he asks softly. “Ever since you jumped from that helicopter in your tight little shorts and cursed at everyone around you.” 
You wind your arms around his neck and twist your fingers into his hair, grinning as you remember the exact day all those months ago. “All I’m hearing is that we have a lot of catching up to do.”
His eyes are dancing as his lips brush softly against yours. “Wicked, wicked thing,” James whispers and claims you in another kiss. 
At the same time you mould your body to his, the blunt head of his cock nudges against your aching cunt. Without breaking away, James’ hand disappears between both your bodies and guides himself in. 
It ignites a raging inferno in your core that threatens to swallow you whole. 
James’ lips leave yours despite your whines of protest. He’s panting softly and his pupils are blown wide when his eyes find yours. 
He reaches out a large hand to again cup your cheek, caressing your flushed skin with a soft thumb. “Eyes on me, darling.”
It’s an order you don’t dare disobey. 
With tormenting slowness he eases into you inch by inch, watching every micro expression that twists across your face with clear arousal etched into every line on his. Your nails are leaving a plethora of tiny half moons across the tanned skin of his shoulders - not that he seems to even notice or care - and your continued melody of whimpers and groans have him resting his forehead gently against yours. 
“Shhh, keep it in,” he murmurs when you can take no more of him. You groan and clench around him as you adjust, earning a rough curse barked in your ear, but soon feel his lips press to your cheek. “Good girl.”
You clench hard around him again and he smirks, actually smirks, but refrains from passing comment. He doesn’t need to. 
James builds you up slowly, trailing haphazard kisses and bites along your throat and collarbone. It’s a heady, intoxicating pleasure and promises a release so devastating that all of Vietnam will know his name. 
“You…couldn’t…feel…any better,” he pants in time with each snap of his hips. 
You curl one hand around the base of his skull while the other alternates between tracing the rippling muscles in his back and gripping his perfect ass. 
“Thanks,” you reply lightly into his ear. “It’s an area I work hard on.” 
A short burst of laughter escapes him and his teeth sink into your earlobe. Combined with how heavenly his cock feels, it makes you cry his name in a single, high pitched breath. 
“Good girl. Good girl,” he rasps hoarsely with a particularly forceful thrust of his hips. 
“Keep…fuck….keep saying that and I’m gonna come,” you tell him, only half teasing. 
James lifts his head from the crook of your neck and gazes at you with lust blown blue eyes. One hand slips between your thighs and you feel the glorious pressure of his thumb on your clit. It’s both too much and not enough. 
“I’m not going to stop, and you’re going to look at me when you come. Understood?” he says, immediately thrusting into you at an almost frantic pace. 
“Yes, Captain.” 
You watch the small tilt of his head and the half smile that pulls at his lips. You refrain from passing comment. You don’t need to. 
You grip him like a vice as he steadily builds you up, moaning his name and pleading with a god you no longer believe in. James is grunting with each thrust as his own release crests, but his eyes never once leave yours. 
“James…,” you whimper when you're teetering right on the edge of your climax and the glorious freefall is right before you. 
“Come, my sweet girl. Come for me.” 
Your orgasm rips through you so intensely that, for a moment, you forget to breathe. James’ eyes stay locked with yours as pleasure swallows you whole and you writhe beneath him, but he’s quickly tumbling into bliss alongside you. 
His head falls back heavily to the crook of your neck and you easily cradle it there as he rides out his own release. He’s panting heavily in your ear and a small glow of pride bubbles in your stomach that it’s because of you. 
You both come down off your high slowly, but the aftershocks of release are still tingling pleasantly through every inch of you. James presses another lingering kiss to your cheek and rolls you both over so you’re tucked against his chest. A thin sheen of sweat covers him but you nuzzle into him happily, feeling the deep rise and fall of his chest as he catches his breath. 
“I should have gotten lost in the forest with you a long time ago if that’s what comes of it,” you murmur and you feel his arm squeeze your shoulders. 
James hums and presses his lips to the crown of your head. “Maybe we should get lost again and see what happens.” 
His deep voice is laced with filthy promise and makes your heart skip a beat in your chest, both at what he’s hinting at and knowing that there’s going to be a “next time.” 
“Maybe tomorrow,” you reply and twist yourself tighter around his firm body. “For some reason, I’m completely exhausted tonight.” 
You drift off to sleep beneath the soft caress of his fingertips along your arm and the sound of his heart beating in your ear.
157 notes · View notes
springdandelixn · 1 year
Text
Against the Tide  - Part I
Tumblr media
Summary: Your life takes an unexpected turn as the leader of the biker gang that took over your town sets his eyes on you.
Warnings: unwanted touching, power imbalance, abusive undertones, more to be added as the series progresses.
Characters: Dark!Biker!James Conrad x F!Reader, Michael from Legion and Billy Lee from Bad Times at the El Royale (biker au)
A/N: I have taken a dive into newer territory and it’s such a thrilling experience. It’s a first I’m writing for James Conrad so please be gentle. I do dedicate this piece to one of my babies, @michelleleewise​ 💙 Belated Happy Birthday, dear. Also a belated happy birthday to @coldnique​!!
As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope you guys enjoy! 💙
Against the Tide Masterlist
Tumblr media
You turn your head to face the back of the bar when you hear the commotion coming from the kitchen, the din of Melody’s angry voice mixing in with the clack of the pool balls from the other side of the bar and the music playing from the speakers. Luis, the new hire, must have messed up another customer’s order, probably burning the burger patties like he did last night. 
You feel your phone buzz from your back pocket and pull off the simple black apron tied around your waist. Turning off your alarm, you peek from the kitchen window and tap your hand against the metal surface, a chuckle leaving your lips as you see Melody’s fuming face. 
“What?!” She snarls and you only roll your eyes playfully at her rage.
“I’m taking my break.” You tell her, holding out your hand after. “Cigs.” 
She pulls a pack from the back of her pocket and slaps it on your hand, giving her a playful wave with your fingers before looking at Luis and laughing at the way he frowns when Melody goes back to scolding him. 
The summer night breeze is a welcome sensation when you step out of the bar and walk over to the side of the building where the cars and motorcycles of the patrons are parked. Tapping the pack against your palm you take the nicotine stick that slides free and tuck it between your lips. 
Shaking the lighter, you flick your thumb against the small metal gear, watching the flame come to life and lighting the tip of the cigarette. You take a long drag, watching the embers eat at the roll of tobacco before huffing the smoke up into the air. A small sigh leaves your lips as you can’t help but contemplate what your life has become while watching the smoke form clouds around the full moon that shines in contrast to the dark sky. 
All your life you’ve only been in Westmoor, never once venturing away from the small town, even if it’s just to visit the next one over. You once had plans of leaving the place you call home when you were a teenager, to abandon the miserable and abusive life you’ve come to know since you were born—your alcoholic father seeing you as a burden and your mother too afraid to fight back once he cracks his hand against your cheek. 
You were free once your mother died from illness, running away from home and finding solace at Ol’ Sammy’s place. The old man treated you like you were his own, his wife, Eleanor, showering you with the love and affection you’ve never known. They’d even ward off your deadbeat father when he would storm up to their porch, demanding money you owed him for raising you. 
You felt like you had a family in their presence but even so, your desire to leave just drew stronger. For there was truly nothing but hardship in this town. Yet no matter how hard you tried, saving every penny you can from years of working at Nick’s, leaving just seemed impossible. 
Especially now with the gang of bikers that have seemingly taken over just about a year ago. Coming into town and claiming it as their own, with every resident scared for their lives as they shamelessly flaunt their power. They made it their job to make their presence known, terrorizing businesses and taking money for protection that isn’t needed. For no one comes to Westmoor to cause havoc, the only visitors being passersby and hunters during the fall. 
The roar of a motorcycle pulls you from your thoughts and you stand rigid against the wall when you see the gang parking their bikes in front of you. You feel a chill run up your spine at their sudden appearance. It’s Wednesday and you know they’re not supposed to be here, Nick telling everyone at the bar when they’re scheduled to collect.
“Hey there, sugar,” Billy calls as soon as their engines die, the burly man getting off his bike and casually striding over to where you stand. 
You do your best to keep your guard up, you know better than to face them alone. Rolling your eyes at Billy’s greeting, you drop your cigarette to the ground and stomp your foot on it to kill the embers before walking away. But a yelp of surprise leaves your lips when your pulled back, the air punching out of your lungs when your back hits the wall, eyes growing wide as Billy presses his hand against the concrete surface, trapping you. 
“Leaving so soon?” He teases, the hair sitting over his lip moving in waves as he juts out his lips. “We just got here.” 
“I’m done my break.” You say in annoyance, pressing your fists against his chest, trying to push him away. “Melody will be furious if I’m late.”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you taking a couple more minutes if she knew you were with me.” His breath already reeks of alcohol, making your stomach turn as he leans closer to your face.
“That’s enough, Billy.” 
Your spine tingles in fear when you hear James’ voice, Billy giving you another smirk, turning your head away when his fingers rub against your cheek when he pulls away from the wall.
Out of all the bikers, James is the one people fear the most. His calm demeanor is nothing but a front to his hidden rage. You’ve witnessed first hand when Richard, one of the bar patrons, beat him in a game of pool, the man never coming back to Nick’s after he was bedridden for almost a month. 
He’s stopped drinking, his wife, Ingrid, said when you went over to their place to drop off a pie Eleanor made. But the brace around his neck and the bruises you saw decorating his face when Ingrid opened the door a little too wide said otherwise.
“You got a light?” James asks as he stands in front of you. You reach into your pocket and hold out the lighter, keeping your expression stoic when he cups your hand with both his, flicking the flame to life before lighting his nicotine stick. 
You pull your hand back when he finishes, tucking the lighter back in your pocket and standing still as he takes a drag and huffs out the smoke, his blue eyes never leaving you. 
“What are you doing out here all alone, dove?” He asks, his gaze lingering down your body before he meets your eyes again. 
“I was on break.” You respond in a monotone voice. “Was just about to head back.”
“Is Nick in?”
“He called out. Said his wife is sick.” 
“Is that so?” He chuckles, taking another puff of the cigarette, cringing when he blows the smoke at your chest. “I guess we came here for nothing, boys. Unless you can make it worth my while?” He asks and you quickly slip away when he leans in closer, your heart pounding hard against your chest when he grabs you all of a sudden. “And who gave you permission to leave?” You shiver at his tone, hushed yet menacing.
“I have to go back to work.” You reason, wincing as he tightens his hold on your wrist when you try to pull away. “You guys come in and have a drink, so your trip isn’t wasted.” You say in a rush, your voice shaking as you speak. “On the house, as much as you want. I’m sure Nick won’t mind.” 
“C’mon, boss.” Billy interjects, his voice sounding like an excited little kid about to get a ice cream from the shop. “I also want to challenge Mikey to a game of pool.” 
A grunt echoes at the side and you see James’ right hand man, Michael, standing and watching you impassively at the side. His tattoo-covered arms are crossed over his chest, his finger leisurely rubbing the base of the gun that hangs on his holster as if waiting for the opportunity to use it.
“Very well.” James groans and drops the half finished cigarette on the ground, releasing your hand all the same. “But you’ll be the one to serve us. No one else. Understood?” He demands. 
You nod and quickly scurry away from him, your annoyance instantly flaring when Billy slaps his hand against your ass when you pass him. 
The stuffy atmosphere is a welcome distraction as you walk back into the building. Melody stands behind the bar, the anger from earlier replaced with a smile. But as soon as she sees you, her lips slant and you know that she knows something isn’t right. 
“What’s wrong?” She asks.
“Conrad and his minions are here.” You quickly tell Melody as you make your way at the back of the bar, the smile on her face quickly fading at your announcement. 
“What are they doing here?” She whispers, turning her back when the boys enter the bar, helping you grab their drinks from the fridge. 
“They’re looking for Nick.”
“Did you tell them he isn’t here?” 
“I did but they won’t leave me alone.” You bite back, popping the caps of the bottles before setting them atop a round tray. “I told them they can have drinks, on the house.”
“What?! Are you stupid? Nick will be—”
“He’ll be happy that we kept them happy. You know how Conrad is.” You hiss, taking the tray. “And the last thing we need is for him to burn down the bar.”
“Fine.” She says in defeat. “I’ll try to call Nick, maybe he can make them go away.” 
You don’t say anything. You already know as well as she and the whole town of Westmoor that it’s impossible to get rid of James and his men. 
210 notes · View notes
infinitystoner · 7 months
Note
Conrad tells you to get on your knees.
Tumblr media
What’s he gonna do to you?
I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT THIS FICTIONAL MAN. (Also, this has nothing to do with the series I’m working on. Just a drabble. Enjoy!)
Misconduct
Pairing: James Conrad x Reader Word count: 788 Tags/Content: Bratty Behavior, Daddy Dom!Conrad, Smuttish
Tumblr media
“What if your little ruse had backfired?” 
The evening’s arduous recovery mission had been a success, although the extraction of your target had not gone according to plan. Conrad’s plan, that is. 
In the heat of the moment, you’d implemented another course of action – admittedly a slightly more dangerous one – and, now that you’re back at the Saigon motel the two of you are currently operating out of, he’s finally letting his disappointment be known. 
And it is exhilarating. 
“They’re safe, James. Mission accomplished,” you reply nonchalantly, wrapping your arms around his waist as he shrugs off his holster. “Isn’t that all that matters?”
He huffs out an incredulous laugh, slowly walking the two of you back toward the bed – which is precisely where you want to be. 
“Oh, darling. You disobeyed a direct order out there. You expect me to just forget that?” 
There’s a hint of lingering frustration in his tone, and a rush of adrenaline surges through your body, your core throbbing in delightful anticipation of what’s to come. 
“Yes, of course,” you say before running your tongue along the expanse of his beautiful neck, relishing in the salty taste of his skin and hoping your eager nips are enough to distract him from the fact your hands are hastily unfastening his belt buckle. 
But it’s futile – Conrad immediately grasps your wrists, stopping your ministrations as he gives a gentle squeeze. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” 
“I know I am.” 
Your continued taunts prompt him to change course, pulling you away from the bed and pressing you back against the nearest wall. You’re not sure if it’s his heartbeat you feel against your chest or your own fighting wildly within the confines of your ribcage. You stare up into his eyes – any remaining glimmer of playfulness is gone, replaced by unabated lust. 
“Why do you insist on being such a brat?” 
“You love it.” 
“That I do,” he muses, letting go of you. “But even brats must learn to follow the rules.” 
“Now,” he pauses, his tongue darting across his bottom lip before his gaze narrows. He’s thinking of a punishment befitting your misconduct, and your breath hitches at the obscenity of it all. “Over there, on your knees.” 
He motions to the foot of the bed, but you’re already following his command without hesitation.
“Any other requests, Captain?” you tease, glancing over your shoulder as Conrad snaps the belt from his hips in one fluid movement. 
“Eyes straight ahead, love. And hands behind your back.” 
Submitting to him like this comes to you as easy as breathing. It’s a partnership built on trust that works exceedingly well, both in and outside of the bedroom.  
But you broke a sacred rule tonight, and now you must atone. Pleasure roils inside you like the wicked waves of a tempest as Conrad crouches behind you, fingertips ghosting down the length of your arms before swiftly looping his belt around your wrists.  
When he’s done, he settles on the bed in front of you. Carefully, you test the strength of the leather binding, burning desire settling in your belly when you realize the knot is tighter than usual. 
“My fierce, curious girl,” he laughs. “Would you like to hear the rules?” 
Your brain short circuits with salacious possibility as the ache between your thighs intensifies, but you must make some sort of agreeable noise because Conrad smugly arches a brow as he rubs his palms along the top of his legs, observing you with a quiet wonder. 
“You will not move – or touch me – until I say so. Is that clear?” 
“Then what—”
“You’re going to watch.”
Conrad is certainly a sight to behold. The hazy light emitting from the bedside lamp creates a glowing aura around his godlike form, and shadows dance across the contours of his chiseled body as he widens his thighs. The way he commands the space, the confidence in his posture, the dominant energy filling what little space exists between you – it’s addictive. 
“James, please.” It’s desperate, but so are you. You’ll say anything – do anything – if it means you get to touch him. 
The subtle curve of his lips hints at a smile; he knows the power he wields over you. Conrad meticulously unbuttons his jeans, the two of you groaning in unison when he finally frees himself.  
“Oh, don’t worry, darling,” he rasps, languidly stroking his cock. “I’m still going to make good use of that smart little mouth of yours.”
The confused expression on your face must intrigue him because he pauses his motions and leans down, his breath fanning over your heated skin as he whispers,  
“Tonight, you’re going to talk me through it.”
220 notes · View notes
muddyorbsblr · 8 months
Text
you deserve better
See my full list of works here!
Summary: When all the plans you'd made for today go down the drain, the last person you expected shows up at your door to try turning the night around
Pairing: James Conrad x Reader
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: angst; language; craptastic friends [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: simp Conrad, that is all 🫠
Tumblr media
"Fucking dammit!"
You gripped your phone tightly in your hand, resisting the urge to chuck it into the sea right where the ship's rotor blade was located. Tears burned behind your eyes as every message you'd missed in the last week while you were on this research trip with Monarch trickled in at a steady pace now that you and the rest of the crew had signal again.
Where your fellow scientists were calling up loved ones on FaceTime with bright smiles on their faces and assurances that they were on their way back home, you had an influx of messages from your friends telling you that no, they wouldn't be making your birthday dinner tonight after all.
"Doctor Y/L/N?"
Oh fuck not him, doesn't he have a pool bar to get to so he can snap his fingers and get tonight's lay? you snidely thought to yourself, steeling your stance at the sound of former Captain James Conrad's voice. Taking a deep breath, you turned to face him. "What's up, Conrad? Looking to split an Uber and Brooks doesn't wanna--"
"Are you alright?"
His question felt like a shock to your system, making you blink your eyes repeatedly as if you were trying to get your bearings back. "Of course," you lied through your teeth. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Well…" he trailed off, motioning toward your hand. "You're gripping your mobile so hard your knuckles are turning white, for one."
You glanced at your hand, sighing when you saw your skin stretched taut over bone and trying to relax your grip somewhat. "Fine," you gritted out. "If you really wanna know, it's my birthday today. I had plans to spend tonight with my friends once I'd unpacked and washed that goddamned island off of my skin. But some people in that group can't seem to let petty high school shit go, and today when we finally got signal again I got a metric fuckton of messages from one of said friends calling me either a bad friend or a dumbass for extending an invitation to my friends because it's inconvenient for her, which then led to a domino effect of if she's not going then I'm not going and now…" you trailed off, chuckling sardonically to yourself. "Now no one's going."
Something akin to pity crossed the tracker's eyes, making you look away. The last thing you needed right now was the most jaw-droppingly unfairly handsome man on the face of God's green earth to look at you like a sad wet little puppy left out on the side of the road.
"Anyways I'm off," you said a little too chipper it even made you cringe a little inside. "Got a date with a pizza box, fridge full of wine, and my Netflix account. 'Till the next one, Conrad."
Before he could say anything else, you were already walking to your Uber that just pulled up, finally letting yourself let go of all the hot air you were running on and quite aptly feeling deflated. When you were finally far enough from the port that Conrad wasn't even a speck in your line of sight, you felt the tears start to roll down your cheeks.
You felt exponentially worse when you got home, most of the food that you'd placed an order for before you left on the trip to be delivered today already waiting on your porch.
"Fucking dammit," you repeated, albeit this time with a whimper rather than a roar. You propped your door open and started bringing the food in, deciding to set aside a couple of days worth of meals for yourself and then giving the rest to a nearby food bank so that it would at least do some good.
It took a few hours but you were finally perched on your couch, wearing a comfy pajama short set, Kate & Leopold playing on your TV, and tucking straight into a tub of mudslide ice cream just letting the night pass. This definitely wasn't how you pictured spending your 30th birthday, but you strived to remember that there could have been worse ways to spend tonight.
You could've been mediating between spatting friends because they couldn't manage to keep civil for one night, or you could've been on the receiving end of Deena's tirade about "how duplicitous you were to drag her into a gathering with Shana". The island would've been a better alternative than dealing with that all night.
About 30 minutes into the movie you heard a knock on your door, causing you jump in your seat. "I didn't order anything!" you hollered toward your front door, wincing at the pins and needles starting to prickle at your feet and lower legs from the motion.
Whoever was outside knocked again, this time a bit more persistent with the sound booming across the living room. Your visitor, whoever it may be, wasn't here by mistake, and they weren't about to be waved off with a simple 'go away I'm pissy'.
"I told you, buddy, I didn't order any--" Your words stopped short on the tip of your tongue as you saw nothing but broad shoulders clad in a familiar tight and worn blue t-shirt stretched tight over well-defined pectorals, only this time with an off-the-rack casual blazer draped over it. Your eyes slowly traveled upward to meet the oceanic blue eyes that quite frankly you constantly tried and failed not to dream about whenever you drifted off to sleep at night. "Conrad…" you said his name slowly, as if every part of your brain was fighting against accepting the reality that he was here now, looking like the human embodiment of Lust on ridiculously long legs. "What're you doing here?"
There were quite a few thoughts that crossed your mind in the last few hours, scenarios that you'd conjured up on how the rest of the night would go, each of them dwindling in their respective probability as the hours ticked on. Former SAS Tracker James Conrad being at your door, however, was definitively not among those scenarios.
"Erm…I thought I would come over to check on you. You were visibly…understandably…upset when we parted ways at the pier," he answered, shifting his weight to one leg as if trying to make it all sound so casual. He looked over at how you were dressed, from the haphazard ponytail down to the fuzzy monster slippers covering your feet, and resumed his stance that you'd grown accustomed to with the squared shoulders and the ramrod straight back as if he was back on training grounds. "Get dressed, Y/L/N."
You jerked your head backwards, surprise and confusion flooding your system at the soft spoken order. "Why?"
"I'm taking you out for dinner," he stated plainly. "I know you had plans for tonight and they didn't pan out the way you intended. No one should such an important day alone unless they really want to."
"Conrad, please. I'm fine, everything's fine. You don't have to check in on me or take me out to dinner or keep me company out of--I don't even know, pity? You have your own thing and I don't wanna keep you from it or the hordes of women who would probably abandon all common human decency and trample over each other to get that blazer off of you." You finished your little lament with a wave toward the garment, already stepping back like you were about to send him off to better and more interesting company.
When he sensed what you were about to do, he reached out, putting your hand in a delicate hold. "The night has barely begun, and you're in pajamas, eating ice cream, and one of your comfort movies is playing on the screen." He motioned his head towards your TV, where Hugh Jackman and Meg Ryan were currently paused mid-waltz on a New York rooftop. He brought his hand up to cup your face, swiping his thumb over the corner of your mouth before softly saying, "This isn't fine. And I know that I'm not the company you expected or perhaps even prefer. I just--I wanted to come here tonight and just let you know…that I'm here. So…you could join me for dinner or alternatively I could join you here and you can talk my ear off with your movie commentary. The point is that you won't be spending your birthday alone."
His words left you stunned to near silence. "I uhm--I'll go get dressed then." You stepped back from his hold, an irrational part of you already missing his touch, awkwardly waving toward the sitting area. "I'll be out in a few minutes."
Once you'd started to make your way up the stairs, Conrad made his way to the living area of your house, a smile making its way to his face as he looked at the framed pictures you had on your shelves, your dimpled toothy grin on full display. "Oh, Y/N," he breathed your name almost reverently in the silence. "How the hell am I going to move on from you now?"
Earlier today when you'd all disembarked off the ship, he had plans to wash up and head off to a bar to look for someone to keep him company for the night, perhaps until Monday when you were all expected to return to Monarch for briefing on your next mission. All he wanted was to find someone who held even the faintest resemblance to you and lose himself in the chimera that you were the one he was with, that he held you in his arms as he woke up that next morning, and with that indulgence to tide him over for some time, perhaps he could maintain the professional, nearly friendly, relationship that he had with you without running the risk of putting that in jeopardy all because he couldn't keep his affections in check.
Those plans all went down the drain when he saw how you were fighting back tears explaining how your plans for tonight had gone off the rails. When his choices for how to spend the night were spending a few empty hours with someone he would meticulously compare to you or making sure that your birthday wasn't going to be spent alone and licking wounds that should never have been dealt to you in the first place, there was no choice to make.
Tonight's objective was simply to wipe the frown away from your perfectly enchanting face, perhaps even get you to smile. And maybe somewhere along the way finally get you to see him as someone more than just your colleague. Someone that cared. A friend, if he was really going to push it.
And maybe if he was going to entertain the moon shot that played in his most self-indulgent daydreams…a lover.
The sound of you clearing your throat brought him out of his thoughts, the sight of you in your simple pale blue dress with a slight teasing cutout by your waist stealing every bit of his breath away. "Too much?" you asked him, your tone shaky.
"Not at all," he croaked out, clearing his throat before speaking again. "You uhm…you look--You're beautiful." The tiniest smile played at your lips as you motioned for him to follow you to the door. "You always are," he murmured under his breath.
"What was that?" you called out absentmindedly, still steadily making your way to the front door.
"N-Nothing," he stammered. "I was just…admiring your home. It's lovely."
"It's too damn big is what it is," you scoffed as he passed you at the threshold before locking the door. "That's what I get for being perpetually alone, I guess. Just my luck that every guy I ever even tried to date fully expects me to hang up my coat and give up my research so I can play housewife." Your eyes misted over again as the next words came out. "Not a single soul on God's green earth that could deal with that." You turned the key with a little more force than necessary, the lock clicking into place with a resounding knock.
When the two of you made your way to his car, he opened the door for you, your disbelief at the gesture evident in your eyes. And when he was sure that you wouldn't be able to hear him through the car's closed door, he whispered to himself, "I could deal with that. If it meant that you were mine, I could deal with anything."
Tumblr media
A/N: Happy happy birthday @liminalpebble!! I hope this puts a smile on your face today and that you have a spectacular year ahead of you, bestie 🥹🥹 Many many hugs from me and Grassy the Mango (even though the bub hasn't arrived yet but it will…today. I think…)
everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @gigglingtiggerv2
238 notes · View notes
ladyfluff · 3 months
Note
Another christmas drabble idea! 🥰
Kissing underneath the mistletoe with Mr. and Mrs. Conrad! 🥰
Please and thank you! <3
A CHRISTMAS PARTY
Tumblr media
It wasn't a scene that James was fully familiar with but he enjoyed it nonetheless, granted, he would've been more at home in a bar or at home. It was nice to have a bit of holiday cheer before going back out there, James' line of work required a lot of travelling. He would love to take Mrs. Conrad to Egypt to enjoy the Nile, it had been a plan once but work got in the way and they had already settled down. They had a good life, James sent back most of his money to help pay off the house. If they were going to have children at any point it was important for them to have a home. Some place safe and happy.
"Had enough Christmas spirit for tonight?"
He chortles at the sound of his wife's voice, turning to look at her. She wore that lovely green dress to the party, it was in the neighbourhood and she had insisted that he go before he was shipped off during the new year. James hated being away during the holidays, knowing just how much it hurt to spend them alone. Christmas just wasn't the same without her, one day James won't have to go away for work. One of these days he'll be home for every Christmas, he smiled at the sight of the mistletoe in Mrs.Conrad's hand as she held it above his head. A silly but lovely tradition, he leaned in.
"I've got room for a little more."
Merry Christmas Mr and Mrs. Conrad.
44 notes · View notes