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mrsnancywheeler · 3 months

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andante, andante // finnick odair x f. reader

masterlist

3.3k words

request: could you write a oneshot where finnick and reader have always had a flirty relationship. the reader got taken and tortured by snow during the quarter quell, and she was brought to thirteen and when finnick sees her lots of fluff (and maybe smut?) ensues. i love your work, happy 700 followers!

warnings: smut, lots of it, there's some angst in the beginning Captiol related, confessions of feelings, hurt/comfort in the beginning, pnv, some degredation, teasing, use of good girl, unprotected sex, no use of y/n, unedited

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

There was no energy left, not a single part of your body had any form of passion left. Long ago you'd grown immune to the effects that Peeta and Johanna's screams had once had on you, probably once the starvation and dehydration had kicked in. Not to mention when you were trying to fight off the rats you could swear where in your pitch black cell, sometimes you'd swear you saw other creatures as well, but you tried to tell yourself it was hallucinations.

So when the team from District 13 came to rescue you all, you desperately willed the energy to return. You couldn't see him like this, Finnick. Technically you were just friends, but your relationship hinged on the flirtatious, playful banter which you didn't know if you had anymore. You hadn't spoken in a while, maybe you wouldn't even recognize your voice, it's not like the Capitol had much information they could get out of you. No one had thought to inform you of the rebel plan, for a while part of you was terrified that Snow would just have you killed for not knowing anything, but you were kept alive.

You'd had endless time to spend, when you weren't hearing or seeing things in your hazy state, to think about Finnick. How you weren't sure if he felt the same way about you that you'd felt about him for years, but should've said something before all this. Wishing that before you surely died in the Capitol he would know you had always cared for him, loved him from afar. You'd rather die with your love unrequited, but known. Yet now you'd see him again and you hoped if there was a chance he had feelings for you that you were half the woman you once were.

Of course, once all the fluids the medics were pumping you full of had taken effect you'd probably feel some of the spirit you'd had return. The universe seemed to look down on you because the first feeling you did feel in full force was anxiety about Finnick. You'd heard whispers of his names from guards so you knew he wasn't dead, but hadn't a clue how he actually was. Maybe you'd made up the voices of the guards and he actually was dead, what a cruel fate that would be, but with the way your life seemed to pan out it wouldn't have shocked you. Although if he was alive it condemned you to living the rest of your life in silent adoration, but he was the only person you would ever do that for.

When you entered the District 13 base on that medical bed the next full force feeling hit, overstimulation. The only noise you had been used to in weeks were the cries of Peeta and Johanna which you'd learned to tune out regardless of how loud, and the occasional order from a guard or a whisper. The flurry of doctors ready to fully assess injuries, people standing around full of questions, all the chatter and noise had your hands flying up to cover your ears. It was too bright, too loud, the bed was rickety in the floors little bumps, and you actually longed to be back in the familiarity of the cell.

“Hey, you're okay, honey." A much softer voice, much closer, warms ringer delicately brushing the hands covering your ears. Finnick. Your eyes snapped open as you slowly observed him.

“Finnick?" Your voice was much quieter, scratchier than you'd remembered it, but he seemed to hear you just fine. His kind smile blessing you as he slowly nodded, the next emotion was relief. You hadn't cried in a while, no water to allow yourself, but the fluids must have been working miracles because you felt like there was a flood about to break through your tear ducts. “You're real right?"

His hand landed more firmly on yours, assuring you with his very real body heat. “I'm real, I'm right here with you." Slowly you moved your hands from your ears, forcing yourself to take deep breaths to handle the noise. He looked like he was going to cry, “God, I'm so glad you're okay!" Finnick's warm embrace surrounded you and it made you want to melt into him forever. “They kept sedating me because I was so worried about you."

It confused you, to hear him talking about worrying about you with so much passion, of course he'd consumed your every thought, but you'd doubted you would've been on his. “Oh, come on, you would've found someone else to banter with, Finn." The first laugh you'd had in so long forced itself out.

“Good thing that the only person I want to banter with is you, and here you are, pretty face and all."

There was a pause before your voice came out again, delicate like a flower petal floating on the waters. "I missed you.” It came out sounding more vulnerable then you'd intended, maybe even too fond and he'd pulled his arms away. Before you could retreat though you were shocked when his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft, and spoke a thousand words you could only ever wish to translate.

When he pulled away you could only stare at him stunned, he'd felt the same way you'd felt all along. “I'm sorry, I-" Before he could finish you pulled his face back in, kissing him, it was addictive, you could drown in his lips. “You know, it's rude to interrupt." He muttered out before kissing you again.

“Sorry." You weren't, there was no time to be when it was like you living in a dream. Maybe this was a dream, maybe you were back in the Capitol and had officially lost it, but the heat of his touch was too real for you to believe that.

“I've loved you for so long." Finnick's hand cupped your face which must have been burning up.

“Me too, I didn't think you'd ever even noticed me that way."

“How could I not have noticed my pretty, sweet girl that way?" His smile was so perfect it made you feel like you were floating. The doctors insisted on doing an official check up on you which Finnick stuck by you diligently for. Fluids and food was all you really needed besides further psychological evaluation, but there wasn't much time for that when apparently Peeta was turning out to be the biggest problem imaginable.

Finnick had sat by your hospital bed, slowly feeding you a soup that felt like the best thing you'd ever eaten with all the time you'd gone without a scrap. He filled you in on life in District 13, how much protocol there was, but it would be worth it to end all of this so you could be together. Apparently he'd been assigned his own compartment which he rarely used when the breakdowns hit, so he'd spent nearly every night sedated in the hospital wing.

Eventually the doctors agreed to let you take a shower, you'd still be sequestered to the hospital wing, but you were grateful for the chance to finally be clean. You could sense that Finnick hated that you would be out of his sight again, like the moment you walked away he would realize this was all a dream he was having that had slipped away under the cover of night. “Do you wanna come with?" You whispered to him as the medic on the other side took the IV out of your arm, “Somebody's gonna have to show me the way there."

“Can I?" He whispered back and hurt you to know that he'd been this hurt over you, that you'd both gone so long without a confession to the other.

You nodded slowly as you pressed a quick kiss on his lips and he smiled, maybe this wasn't a dream after all. Finnick guided you through the drab underground of District 13. It was stuffy, but you were overtaken by giddiness. The Finnick Odair was holding your hand, the Finnick Odair had meant every flirty comment he'd made, Finnick Odair loved you back, Finnick Odair wasn't just a dream you could never have, Finnick was here, Finnick was yours. He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not. And the final petal had determined he loved you.

He turned the water on for you and Finnick respectfully turned around so you could undress and get inside of it. Your heart swelled to think he missed you so much he would be content to just sit outside, to feel your presence in the room. The feeling of the water hitting your skin was a relief, to feel the grime being washed away. It was lonely though, to think of him patiently waiting for you, how long he's waited to know you were safe, how long he'd waited for you to confess. “Are you gonna make me be alone in here?” You cringed at the way no matter how quiet your voice was it seemed to echo.

You'd hid behind the curtain, so you didn't have to confront the question. Maybe he didn't want to, but you'd also thought he just wanted to flirt as friends. The curtain swept to the side as he peeked his handsome face in, eyes glued to your face. "Not if you need my help, honey.” You would've sworn the way he said those endearments always made butterflies flutter in your stomach, even if it was something you'd felt guilty about when he initially began using it.

The hot water should have relaxed your muscles, but staring at his perfect, handsome face was making you feel a similar sensation that you despised. Whether he knew it or not, the sound of his voice, the things he'd say, and that smile of his all did unimaginable things to you. Things you'd felt guilty for when the fantasies flashed in your mind. He'd been your friend, so it must've been wrong to imagine him with his hands between your legs. Now though, he wasn't just your friend, and the feeling was back. “Maybe I do." It was embarrassing, but just being by his body would help you or maybe it would make the feeling worse, but you didn't care.

He grinned at you and disappeared for a few seconds before he'd opened the curtain again, slipping into the shower. “What do you need my help with, sweet girl?" Now you'd have to come up with something, you tried not to let your eyes trail over his body, he wasn't looking anywhere but your face. But it was hard when it felt like some tingling part of your body was now controlling your actions.

“Can you help me clean myself off?"

"Of course, honey.” He went to grab the shampoo bottle, eyes never ducking down. Part of you wanted him too though, so that this felt less like a dirty fantasy.

"You can look at me, you know? I won't bite, unless asked, promise.” You tried to sound like it was playful, soft and he laughed.

"Yeah, sorry, I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable either." You reassured, “I'm not making you uncomfortable though, am I? If I am-" One of his hands grabbed yours making you pause.

“You're not making me uncomfortable either, you're okay." His sweet smile made you feel more than just like melting, you hoped the wetness pooling between your thighs wouldn't be noticeable in the water. Finnick softly turned you around to wash your hair, he was so particular, taking his time and the feeling of his breath on your neck, clever fingers in your hair. It was so calming, “This okay, honey?" You could only hum in approval as his hands moved so delicately across your scalp. Your brain so easily fell into an easy blissful state as you let his hands move your head with ease. He finished with your hair soon enough and was moving onto washing your body. You shuddered when he carefully pushed your hair off the back of your neck, “You sure you're okay?”

"Yeah.” It comes out more strained than you'd meant it to and you pray he's not put off by it, which he doesn't seem to be as his hands keep trailing downwards. He's soaped and rinsed you off, moving you with so much care that you wish you could absorb each second of it, but you're trying to leave the moment. If you let yourself think about it you're sure you'll give yourself away with the way you'd be responding to his touch. Then it's nearly impossible when he's washing your face, his hands seem like they were perfectly meant to hold your face and suddenly so do his lips when he's kissing you again. Instantly you're pulling him in closer, basically inhaling whatever he gives you. Then you're pausing when his hands start slipping down the small of your back.

Much to your chagrin he pulls away, pausing his hands descent, as he looks at you, “Are you okay with this?" He asks, his eyes speak depths on how much he cares. You nod trying to lean in again, but he leans back, “Need to hear you say it, sweet girl."

"Yes, Finn.” It's barely audible, but he rewards you by kissing you again. Fingers continuing their trail down your back, grazing over nerves that make you shiver. His hands finally land on your hips and you can barely breathe, but you won't let yourself pull away from his lips. They're too addictive and you're too scared you'll wake up to realize you never left the Capitol. And then his hands are slipping lower, your thighs pressing together.

His hands are slowly spreading your legs apart and you let them. Whimpering into his lips when his fingers start tracing over your pussy. His lips pull away and you whine more, even if it gives you a chance to gasp for air. “You're dripping, sweet girl, I haven't even done anything. I bet…” Finnick trails off and you gasp when the tips of two of his fingers are lightly pushing into you. You're instantly clenching around them and he's smirking. “Were you gonna tell me I was making you this dizzy?" You hum out something incoherent when his other fingers start rubbing you. “Seems like someone doesn't know how to use her words, sweet girl, I just have to look at her and understand how needy she is…” He kisses your neck, "Doesn't tell me she feels the same way about me, I have to do it.” Another kiss to another sensitive spot and you gave up on any idea of suppressing the wanton sounds you're making now. He was rubbing you faster now, “Someone's gonna have to teach you to use your words, like a good girl. Not today though."

"Finn-” You moaned out, head tilting back. "Need you, need you so bad. Need you inside me.” You clenched around the tips of his stationary fingers and he thrusted them upwards, the sound you let out was guttural with shock.

“You sure you can take me, sweet girl? Want me to split you open instead of helping you open?" He sounded condescending as he kept moving his fingers inside of you as you whined, before letting out another moan as he slipped a third finger in you.

“Don't care, Finn, don't care if it hurts, need you cock in me. Please, please, please.”

He slipped his fingers out and your eyebrows scrunched together as you whined, he was opening your mouth with his fingers soaked in your juices. “You're my pretty little cock slut aren't you? Gonna let me break you on my cock?" You sucked his fingers in confirmation, licking off your own juices and he smirked. “Did you fantasize about me? Were you not able to tell me how you felt because you were too busy making yourself dumb thinking about my cock?" You nodded, moaning as his other hands began making even more aggressive circles. His hand titled your head up, “If you want my cock, then you're gonna tell me what you thought about when you were fucking yourself stupid."

It was hard to form words when you wanted to do nothing but whine at the pleasure rushing through your body, "You, I thought about how much I wanted you-” Your head fell back when his circles got rougher and then was forcing your head back up, "Wanted you inside of me, touched myself thinking about, oh my god, Finn, please I can't it's too much, wanna cum when you're inside me.”

He was quiet for a second before sighing, “When you beg like that how am I supposed to refuse you anything? Just because my sweet girl just got back to me and must be being so brave, using her words like that. But you're not getting out of it next time, honey." Finnick removed his hand and you let out an involuntary whine.

"Thank you, Finn.” You said breathily as he finally lined himself up with your entrance. “Already so close."

“So needy." He clicked his tongue as he started pushing into you, you clawed into his back. “Jump." You obeyed and he hoisted you up, legs wrapping around his waist. Trying not to hit at his back when caused more of him to push in, but you couldn't stop yourself from the scream you let out when he carefully pushed your back against the shower wall and he bottomed out in you. “So tight, this pussy was made for me, feels so good." He groaned, “Can I move?"

“Please, you're so deep in me, feels so good. Wanna be yours, Finn, want you to do what you want with me." His face planted itself in between your neck and shoulder and you could feel him smiling into your skin.

“You're so sweet, honey." Then he was moving again and you were instantly crying out, “Everyone's gonna find us if you keep this up, know you're mine now." At your insistence he let himself be fast, pound in and out of you as you tightened around him.

Finnick moved a hand up to protect your head as he thrusted recklessly into you. It felt like an eternity of his perfect noises and seeing stars with each movement, you were so grateful that it was your cunt making him groan like that, that he wanted to be inside of you. “Oh my god, Finn, I'm gonna come."

“Good girl, come undone on my cock, sweet girl. Wanna look at your pretty face when you let go for me.” You could've sworn that you'd left the planet when he brought you past the edge. He must have felt it too because your ecstasy doubled when you felt him releasing inside of you, how full you were of him.

You don't know how long you stayed like that, listening to each other's breathing, but nothing had ever felt so perfect. “They're gonna wonder what happened to us." You eventually let out a breathy laugh and he nodded into your shoulder. He tapped your leg and you unhooked them from around his waist. Feet falling onto the cold tiles below.

“Good, I've got to make up for lost time." He kissed your forehead before finally pulling out of you and you hated how empty you felt without him. Finnick pressed his forehead against yours and you watched the steam from the water gather around him, “I should've told you sooner, if you hadn't been okay and here with me again, I don't know if I could've lived with myself knowing you never knew I loved you." And the way he kissed you sealed your fate, you would forever be making up for the times that neither of you confessed to how hopelessly you adored each other and you would relish every moment of it.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you for reading! I'm going to try and get chapter two of the river out before I do the next request, working on scheduling these each out! if you enjoyed it feedback is always appreciated, comments, likes, reblogs, and my asks/requests are open! thank you again and love you all 💋

taglist: @wowzabowza69

#wanda 💋#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader angst #finnick odair x reader smut #finnick odair smut #finnick odair fanfic #finnick x reader #finnick odair imagine #finnick x you

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dilfprayers · 3 months

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...dad leon.... daaaaad leon. DRUNK dad leon...

tw; incest & SUPER disturbing themes

He's got you pinned down to the bed, drunken rambles and the scent of booze was enough to make your nose burn. You tensed up, squirming around while using your hands to push them up against his chest in order to try and at least push him off "Dad- get off of me..." He's clearly ignoring you, groaning when you protested and made such a fuss and had gripped your wrists. His eyes narrowed to yours before scanning your whole entire body. He nearly drooled at the sight of you, "I don't know why.." He paused, holding your wrists even tighter. He was scaring you at this point -- His actions were unreadable and it wasn't like you could read him anyways. "Why I haven't done this a while ago when your mother kept denying me another child when you're right here..."

Your eyes widened, staring at him before you thrashed around. He's drunk, he doesn't know what he was talking about. He couldn't be serious. Right.. Right??? You were panicking and he just looked down at you - A poker face before he smirks, cheeks flushed a deep red while using one hand to hold your wrists together. "M'gonna...Get that baby boy I've always wanted.." He groans, using his free hand to unbuckle his pants while you squirm and cry. Not even that was stopping him. He was supposed to be your protector, your hero and he was doing the exact opposite. He was fucking deranged for an older man, you always avoided these types of men out in public but for it to be your father? You felt sick to your stomach. "D-dad! You aren't thinking straight!" You hissed at him while your tears were streaming down your cheeks. Still, he ignored while quietly muttering something about getting the son he's always wanted. Eventually he got his pants off and his boxers, letting his cock spring out free - Still drooling at the sight of you. You were perfect in his eyes. Perfect for being the mother to his child.

_ Pan to a couple minutes later, you left so many scratches on his arms while he rocked his hips, hitting the deepest parts of your cunt that was slick with your fluids and his cum. You felt like it was all some kind of dream from how many times he managed to pull every single orgasm out of you. "Finally cooperating? Goooood... Good girl~" "You love your daddy's cock? You do. I know.. I know. I'll give you more." "You're tearing up sweetheart.. Are those tears of joy?" "This cunt was made for me and me only.. Mm.." Hearing all of that on top of the many other things he said. Things truthfully had gotten worse since he had managed to snag some more drinks while fucking you. He'd pull you off his cock, taking swigs of the bottle while you were helplessly shifting positions so you could suck his cock that was a drenching mess. Or, he'd make you take some sips while eating you out. He'd suckle your clit, sometimes pulling at it with his teeth and it sent shocks throughout your whole body. Tears streamed down your cheeks from every single thing he did. It was fucking gross but could it be helped? You were tipsy, he was already far gone. Daddy and daughter bonding some would say but take it to another level. _ Eventually, you both grew tired. It couldn't go on for hours after all. It had to end at some point.. Before he put an end to it, he was buried deep in you. His cock remained deep in your core while you laid there beneath him with dried tears and saliva on your face. Your cunt ached in pain from all the fingering, eating out and fucking that had happened. What time was it even? Wasn't your mom coming back home soon from work? Shit, does your father even care? Leon was too busy blowing another load until you, forcing his cock to go deeper than it possibly could - And fuck did it hurt. You wail out in pain, moving your hips with discomfort while feeling his cum fill you again. Your head was spinning and he was just there above you, pretty zoned out at this point. He was old after all and old men has their limits.. Limits he apparently pushed past this night for sure. All this cause of your mother... You could've sworn you muttered something about it being her fault that your father got drunk in the first place and resorted to fucking his own daughter to get another kid -- but again, you couldn't recall much. You were too busy letting your mind ease out along with your body. Everything felt light as you laid there with him over you. "Should be enough for get y'pregnant.." He mutter's quietly before pulling out. A wet squelching noise was made as he pulled his cock back out and then he went on to laying with you. He remained above you still, rubbing his cheek against your neck. Leon did say a few things but you heard nothing but buzzing. Probably processing the shit that was happening.. You thought about everything so much - you had eventually blanked out. _ Days later? You're in the bathroom vomiting back to back. You didn't get a break from that bathroom for a while and Leon would sit there on the couch with the biggest grin on his face. He knew exactly what was happening. He was finally gonna get that baby boy he's always wanted.

#realdad!leon #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #🕊️ — drabs

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ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 4 months

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ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR - PART 1

Pairing - Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

Summary - When you were attacked in your own home, you confined yourself with Jonathan to help you heal. Until you learn a sickening truth that changes everything.

Warnings - extreme NON-CON, dub con, rough sex, drugging, oral, hand job, grinding, manipulation, stalking, controlling.

Word count - 6.9k+

Notes - I've been working on this for a long time and after many rewrites, this is the first of a two part story. This simple idea turned out to be so long that I had to split it up otherwise I would never finish it. Probably the darkest story I've written. Please note story isn't in chronology order. Comments/messages are urged if this even deserves the second part please. And I'm sorry but I hate proof reading.

For the first time forever, you felt as if you’ve finally recognised your priorities. You wanted Jonathan, you needed Jonathan. In desperate need of your call for help, you visualized screaming his name. Not the authorities, not a knight in shining armor, not a God, it was Jonathan.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop trembling as you remained curled up in a ball in your kitchen. The room was as dark as the deepest corner of a cave and it was as cold as ice on this winter’s night. All of your thoughts didn’t match up with each other as if they were scrambled in a pan like eggs, you struggled to remember where and who you were.

Hesitantly, you gripped onto the edge of the counter, your knuckles turned white as you pulled your aching body up as your hands searched and patted over the counter top. Feeling the home phone in your shaking hand, the buttons flashed a dim white light, but it was all a blur to you as you dialed the number. Holding the phone to your ear with an unsteady grip, you listened to the phone ring. Praying to any God that he would answer. Right when you thought the call was going to ring out, you heard his breathing on the other end of the line for a brief moment.

Your friendship had recently hit rock bottom with Jonathan, it was your fault, you know it was. You shouldn’t have been drinking in such an emotional state, you shouldn't have dressed the way you did, you shouldn’t have looked at him in that manner. You were selfish, merely wanting somebody’s complete attention. You've always led on Doctor Jonathan Crane, the ruthless misanthrope psychiatrist who had an undying obsession with you. But that night, you foolishly crossed the line you were determined to stay away from.

“What is it?” Jonathan answered, not sounding pleased to be answering a call at this time of the night, or by you, most likely both. But you were so relieved to hear his voice that you couldn’t help but to sob out loud. It felt like a massive weight was lifted off of your shoulders yet you never felt more empty. Your voice choked as you attempted to say something, anything. “Darling? What’s wrong?” Jonathan continued, his tone completely switching as he voiced his concern.

“I- Johnny… I-I” you cried, lost for words.

Your mind was still fuzzy as you looked down at your body, your pajama shorts ripped in multiple spots and dried fluids all over your flesh. You could hear him begging you to tell him what was wrong, had something happened to you? But you were still too deep in a state of shock and confusion to say anything. No matter how desperately you wanted to beg Jonathan to come save you, all you could do was sob.

“Calm down, I’m leaving right now sweetheart. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Please stay calm darling” he promised you before hanging up the line. If he could stay on the phone with you, he would.

As the line went dead, you collapsed back onto the floor, curling back up into a ball as your body trembled in mental and physical distress. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t do as he asked, how could you stay calm after this?

Jonathan used the spare key you gave him to open the door and quickly punched in the security code to your alarm system. Rushing down the dark hallway, he was calling out your name repetitively and flicked on the lights in the kitchen to reveal the heavily intoxicated you. Jonathan rushed to your side and kneeled, your eyes were glued shut from fear, your teeth chattering as he slowly went to touch your shoulder. Startled, you shrieked and flung yourself back, hitting your head on the wooden counter which caused flashing white lines through your darkened sight.

“Shhhh” Jonathan soothed, pulling your body towards him, embracing you. Your body was as stiff as stone under his. “It’s just me sweetheart. Jonathan, it’s Johnny” he clarified, rubbing your back as he pressed his warm lips to your cold temple.

Your mind was still unclear with whatever hardcore substance was in your system and you struggled to keep your eyes open. Your skin felt filthy, as if you were drenched in grease. It was difficult to breathe, your chest tight and throat dehydrated. The feeling of agony weighed heavy on you, keeping you locked to the cold tiled floor. You looked at Jonathan with hesitation through teary eyes, not trusting him.

When you realized it really was him you cried into his chest, letting it all out, holding onto him for dear life. Gently cooling by your ear to help calm you down, Jonathan rocked you back and forth as his eyes wandered around the lit room. He could see the havoc of your kitchen. The utensils spread all over the counter, broken glass and water on the floor.

“I’m here, you’re safe now” Jonathan promised you and despite your disoriented state, you knew his words to be true.

Doctor Jonathan Crane was an intriguing character. Many would use precise words such as: bumptious, narcissistic, cunning and barbaric when describing him. He was a walking hazard. They’d all warn you to stay away from him, he was expressed as a psychotic genius who lets Hell rain in Arkham Asylum through his experiments for his own intellectual growth.

To you, he was kind, understanding and never failed to make you feel like the most important person in the room. You cannot lie, your friendship with Jonathan was certainly unconventional. But Jonathan was smitten by you, and you felt tenderness with the idea of always having someone there for you.

After almost an hour of blubbering on the floor, you laid back in the passenger seat in a dopey state, wrapped up in his coat as he cautiously drove you back to his house, gazing over to you every few seconds. The paranoia of that man, that monster coming back was too overbearing. Jonathan inwardly deemed that he would be able to take better care of you. He never had optimism in others, especially to the care of you. When the engine’s rumbled came to a sudden silence in the garage, Jonathan completely looked over to you, his fingertips brushing over your jawline. He grabbed your small bag in the backseat first, he’d pick up more belongings in the morning. Opening the car door for you, he wrapped his arm around you protectively and picked you off the ground bridal style.

“Do you have any idea what he gave you sweetheart?” Jonathan projected as he carried you to his bedroom, laying you on the bed. Gently, you shook your head. “Well, you don’t look like you're overdosing…” Jonathan observed, checking your pulse. “But better to be safe than sorry” he murmured.

Jonathan disappeared and reappeared swiftly, standing by your side with medical equipment. The vital signs were quickly checked. Besides your disorientation and heightened sense of fear, you showed no physical symptoms of an overdose.

“Any chest pains? Nausea? Abdominal pain?” Jonathan asked slowly and you continued to shake your head. Humming in response, Jonathan searched through his bag and picked out a tablet. “Take this” he instructed.

But you were skeptical as you squinted your eyes to the small white pill. Jonathan sighed and motioned the pill towards your lips. Your dry lips parted as he slipped the pill into your mouth, followed by the rim of a water bottle to help swallow it down.

“You need a bath, then I’ll make you some tea, okay?” Jonathan told you, caressing your forearm.

Nodding in agreement, you watched Jonathan slip into the ensuite and you heard the water running, Your body lightly trembled as you closed your eyes and when you opened them again, you were in the bath with Jonathan kneeling beside you as he ran a cloth up and down your now warm skin, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The water had a scent in it, lavender you believed. The steam dancing up into thin air over the water.

You looked around your surroundings and then down as you saw your exposed body. Your arms instinctively went to cover yourself as your whimpers began to grow. A hush left Jonathan’s lips as his hand intertwined with yours to help calm you. He gave you a stern stare that screamed for you to stay calm. Yet his soft eyes were begging you to trust him, you took a deep breath in and laid your head back. It’s nothing Jonathan hasn’t seen after all.

Jonathan wrapped the towel around you tightly after he guided you out of the tub, his hands rubbing up and down your shoulders as he walked you into his walk-in wardrobe. He helped you dress into your pajamas, yet the short sleeves and pants made you feel insecure. Your arms wrapped around your body and Jonathan cocked an eyebrow to you. After studying your expression, he pulled out his old university hoodie and slid it over your head. You sighed in relief, the scent of him still strongly on the fabric.

Trailing after him like a lost puppy to the kitchen, he flicked on the kettle and plucked out an apple from the fruit bowl. Whilst waiting for the kettle to boil, he quickly sliced the apple into bite sized pieces and hand fed you bit by bit.

“It’ll help calm your mind” Jonathan exhaled as he poured the hot water into the herbal tea. The mug was set beside you as he watched you momentarily, waiting for the tea to cool down.

After a few minutes you took a small sip and breathed out, fresh tears pricking at your strained eyes. Everytime you closed your eyes you could see him, that monster, creature. Shifting your focus directly onto your tea, the two of you stood in silence, Jonathan’s eyes still set on you. The clock read 4:08 as its hands ticked loudly.

He took your mug as you finished it. “I’ll sleep on the couch” he stated, gently pushing you in the direction of the bedroom. You came to a sudden stop as you turned around to face him.

“Please don’t… Stay with me” you weakly begged, dreading the idea of being alone.

Jonathan’s eyes softened as he nodded in agreement and he guided you to the bedroom. He laid you comfortably on the bed and vanished into the walk-in wardrobe, returning in cozy pants and a long sleeve top. You slipped underneath the bed as his blue eyes stalked you, Jonathan slithered onto the bed and underneath the covers like a snake, pulling your fragile body towards his. Your breathing was staggered as laid your head on his firm chest, he left the lamp on, caressing your back as your tired eyes urged you to shut them but you were too afraid of seeing him again.

After what felt like hours of just laying there, even though it was only a few minutes, your breathing got rougher as the memories began to control your thoughts. Your hand wrapped around his side firmly and Jonathan looked down.

“Breathe in darling” Jonathan whispered.

“What?” you frowned, looking up to him.

“Breath in” he softly smiled, you did as he said. “Now breathe out” he continued on. Breathing out, Jonathan coached you to do it over and over again.

Your chest relaxed as you laid your head back onto his chest, your tired eyes taking over you as you continued to breathe in and out at a steady pace. He whispered calming thoughts by your ear, he was so good with words.

“That’s a good girl” Jonathan whispered as you fell into a deep slumber, free from fear just for now.

You met Jonathan at Gotham University. Everyone on campus despised him, a cocky know it all who’d jump at a debate whenever it raised on the surface. Jonathan was the first in all of his classes, no matter how hard all of the other students tried, he was unbeatable. But you couldn’t help but to be curious with his presence when you’d see him around campus. He was cute, charming if he wore the right clothes, but he was certainly a unique character. Jonathan was passionate, eager and sharp.

He was in the year above you so you never had a real reason to talk to him. But if you’d walk past him in the hallways you’d greet him, he would never reply back however, hardly acknowledge your existence nevertheless. Yet sometimes you’d look up wherever you were on campus and catch him watching you. Like you were a gazelle in an open field. Usually people would instantly look away after being caught, but he continued to stare, as if he was studying you, dissecting you apart with his ocean blue eyes.

It wasn’t until your second year when he approached you in the campus gardens, blocking off the sunlight, you looked up to the boy with dark hair. “Is it Professor Dickens or Winston that has you in such a state of distress?” Jonathan questioned you cockily, staring down at you with a sly grin, his hands behind his back. His rectangular framed glasses made him look goofy yet somewhat intimidating.

After a short silence, you responded with a light chuckle, “Dickens” and Jonathan hummed loudly.

“Ah, I do not speak from experience. However, many find Professor Dickens to be rather… rigorous” Jonathan replied, leaning over to look at the book you were studying. “I remember that textbook, it was rather unchallenging. What are you struggling with?” Jonathan asked, kneeling down next to you now to look at your jots in your notebook.

“All of it really” you sighed, furrowing your eyebrows at how he is actually associating himself with you. “I had to leave town for a few days, my grandma was very ill. Professor Dickens didn’t approve of my appeal for an extension” you muttered slightly, feeling a wave of anger at the situation.

“No issue, I was Professor Dickens star pupil” Jonathan responded, taking your notebook off of you without consent. Jonathan was all of his Professors’ star pupil. “I’ll be sure to make you the next” he grinned at you.

Your peculiar friendship rapidly continued to blossom over the months. Multiple times of the week you’d find yourself residing somewhere hidden on campus with Jonathan, sharing reports, experiments and research with one another. He became your mentor, tutor, inspiration to strive for brilliance in your education.

Jonathan didn’t seem to be as evil as everyone made him out to be. However, you quickly realized that this behavior was merely reserved towards you. Not that he ever did any romantic gestures towards you. You could just read his eyes like a children’s book. Shamefully, you liked Jonathan, a lot more than you wanted to. Jonathan was a puzzle that you had this urge to try to solve, yet at times the pieces you’d connect together felt sinister which you ignorantly chose to ignore.

To Jonathan’s clear distaste, you were already in a relationship. Daniel was your high school sweetheart, but that relationship quickly went sour as you graduated. If you weren’t so comfortable with him, you would have broken up with him at the first red flag. No one should put up with the abuse and neglect he showed you. Especially with the bad habits he had picked up during your relationship. But you were young and naive, too afraid of what life would look like without him.

Jonathan became aware of his maltreatment towards you when he noticed a light bruise over your jaw and a horrible excuse as to how it occurred. He knew you were lying by the way your cheeks would turn a few shades darker. This situation was no exception. But he said nothing, surprising with how he was always proud to state his opinion. Jonathan unhappily went along with your little lie to keep you content.

Then, Daniel disappeared into thin air. Packed up all of his belongings abruptly in the middle of the night and never saw his face again. It wasn’t a surprise really, he had a cocaine issue, most likely made a few bad friends in the dark alleys of Gotham. You weren’t sure he ran away, or if something far sinister had occurred. Nevertheless, it was a shattering experience. But you had Jonathan to lean on for support and you couldn’t be anymore grateful.

Expectedly shortly after, Jonathan confessed his feelings for you confidently yet emotionlessly. He was extremely understanding when you said that you couldn’t think about seeing people again yet and how you’d hate to ruin your friendship. Because it did mean so much to you. Jonathan only couldn’t resist keeping those thoughts inside of him any longer. Your friendship continued on like normal.

When Jonathan earned his doctorate, you demanded he’d celebrate with you. As if he even had any other options. You were going to plan him a special night, but he had already beat you to it, he was such a control freak. The night was spent at one of Gotham’s finest restaurants. He wore his finest black suit and you wore a gorgeous bodycon silk green dress. It was the first time you had ever drank with Jonathan, you had a bottle of champagne on ice to share. Traditionally, Jonathan placed his card in the folder and flashed you a grin. It was one of the best nights of your life, living in luxury, gratefully with him.

“I know I told you no gifts, but there is one thing that I wish from you” Jonathan exhaled as he parked his car outside of your apartment block. He looked over to you slowly and you could feel your heart pound in your chest, your throat tighten as if something had tied rope around it.

You knew exactly what path he was walking down, this day was bound to pounch back at you again. When else then after an unofficial romantic dinner at one of Gotham’s finest?

“Yes Johnny?” You awkwardly chuckled, the streetlamps illuminating his expression of despair.

“A kiss” he whispered, his look begging you to agree with him as he straightened his posture.

“Jonathan” you warned, breaking eye contact immediately. What else should you have expected? It was your typical romantic dinner, he paid the bill, now you had to pay up with a different currency.

“Just once… Every time I heard students snicker behind my back about how I… Couldn't pull…” Jonathan’s tongue clicked as if a drop of venom fell onto it. “I could never help but to feel embarrassed with them being correct, for once” he continued on, looking away from you in the same. “But yes, I have never had the pleasure of kissing a woman before, especially someone as beautiful as you” Jonathan admitted, sighing dramatically at the embarrassment.

“Never?” You frowned towards him, feeling slightly guilty.

As if it wasn’t as clear as day, he never spoke about his natural urges with you. A part of you was convinced that he would come out as asexual one day. It was all so extremely rare for him to get along with others, he would never do a sneaky link, especially during the academic period. No wonder he was always such an asshole to others.

“Unfortunately my brilliance in psychology doesn’t even out my ill-manners towards others” Jonathan exhaled, biting on his lips at the unfortunate truth.

Perhaps it was the champagne urging you towards him, but Jonathan just looked so sweet and innocent right now. You couldn’t help but to feel sympathy for him, especially after all he has done for you.

“One kiss…” you stated, holding up one finger.

Jonathan gently nodded and leant towards you eagerly, his hands snaked to your back to pull your bodies together. If only you could hear how rapid his heartbeat was. He was hesitant, so you closed the distance and pressed your lips against his.

Jonathan hummed, his mouth opening ajar for his tongue to slip out, subconsciously you allowed his slippery tongue inside your warm mouth. His hands slowly slid up your back as your tongues danced together in the silent atmosphere. Right as you noticed your body being drawn to him you abruptly pulled yourself away from him. The pair of you silently caught your breath.

There was a brief moment of silence, your mind still registering how intense of a kiss that was. How strong it felt when it should have felt like nothing.

“Thank you darling” Jonathan smiled as he leaned back into his seat, but his hand danced over yours and you allowed him to.

“We need to find you a hooker to get you laid” you laughed, playfully smacking his hand.

If your studies didn’t teach you much of manipulation, Jonathan sure did. He was a puppeteer, you’d never want him to attach strings to you. Considering how afraid you were of getting his claws on you, you seemed to forget the leash you had on Jonathan. He’d do anything for you, you’d be lying if you said that you’ve never taken advantage of that. But at the end of the day, your relationship with Jonathan was simple and fundamental. To his dismay, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

There was this unwritten debt between Jonathan and yourself. He gave you favor after favor without hesitation over the years accompanied by a toothy grin. Jonathan continued to mentor you in your last year of university despite having a demanding full time profession. Landed you an interview at Arkham Asylum when you were in desperate need of a job. It was only temporary to be in the forensic psychiatric department, working with the criminally insane just wasn’t your ideal workplace unlike Jonathan’s. You were much more interested in neuropsychiatry. He gave you an excellent reference for your current job. Realistically, you shouldn’t have gotten the job with a salary that good, but he made it work. Jonathan has been your rock for years, you egocentrically seemed to forget how much you really did depend on him.

It made you feel like a horrible person, but he was already clingy enough with you, not that you seemed to complain, you enjoyed the company. You’d talk most days despite your busy schedules. The pair of you would spend the majority of your free days together by exploring museums, watching theater performances or going out for a lovely meal. The blind eye would assume the pair of you were a couple, sometimes you even wondered if you were.

Jonathan hated it when you hung out with others, especially if you didn’t tell him prior. A foul word never slipped his mouth, but you could hear it all in his tone, if not see it in his stern expression. Sometimes you’d tell him of your dates just to get him to back off every once in a while. Doctor Jonathan Crane was a jealous man around you, because he couldn’t have you the way he wanted to. A part of you grew to find it stimulating over the course, because he had no control in the situation.

Yet your love life was hopeless. The vitality of your sex life purely depended on one night stands after a drunken night out. Whenever you were asked on a date, he’d ghost you before the second date. So you gave up on dating for a long time, focusing on your work instead. At the end of some nights with an empty bottle of wine, you’d think of Jonathan, the potential there was with him. But you would always feel your stomach turn, or throat tighten at the thought of being completely his.

But then, you unexpectedly fell for your new coworker Anthony Gray. Anthony was a total catch, confident, charming, respected, physically built and loving. There was this instant spark that neither of you wanted to deny, eager to pounce on the sensation. Within the workplace you found yourself sneaking around with him, kissing him, touching him, feeling him inside of you. The workplace had a conflict of interest policy, let alone a no fucking on the job policy. The two of you kept your affair hidden, there were eyes everywhere in Gotham and you’d be stupid to get fired over having dinner in the wrong place. If it wasn’t in the building, you’d be at one or another’s house. It was a thrilling sensation to keep your relationship a secret from everyone in Gotham, including Jonathan, but the pair of you were figuring out how to make it work publicly.

Telling Jonathan of your little love affair was the least of your priorities even though the relationship was growing more stable by the day. Even though you never gave him any hints of mutual affection, he seemed to be eternally entranced by you. Patiently waiting for the opportunity to have you, claim you, own you.

Unknowingly, well slightly knowingly, you distanced yourself from Jonathan. Only by missing a few phone calls from him and sounding distracted over the phone when you did answer. Typically, Jonathan picked up on this unusual behavior within a snap. Suddenly showing up on your doorstep one day as if to catch you out, with a loaf of bread in his hands.

“Oh, Johnny! What brings you here?” You chuckled, looking him up and down.

“It had been a while, so I thought I’d surprise you. Grabbed it from that market place we use to go to every weekend” he answered, heavily emphasizing on the words ‘use to’.

After an awkward moment of silence, you took a step back and gestured to him to come inside, he took your offer instantly.

“So, what have you been up to?” Jonathan asked, his tone making it sound like a demanding question.

“Just working really, going out a few times” you replied, hoping the lie will lead him down the wrong path as you pulled out the bread knife from the block. Jonathan hummed as he dropped the bread onto the cutting board, almost in a forceful manner. You turned back to him, frowning as you tried to read his emotion.

You’d think with your doctorate in psychiatry you’d be able to completely read him right now, but in moments like this, he was a wolf hidden amongst the trees.

“Everything okay Johnny?” You murmured.

There was a low groan that left his lips, his eyes twitching slightly as he debated to say what he really wanted to say. “Just backed up with a lot of paperwork” Jonathan eventually answered, spinning on his heel to pull the butter out from the fridge.

You weren’t ready to shatter his heart into millions of pieces, not yet. Especially in such an isolated setting, it made you feel anxious to the core. Just a few more weeks, of peace, of zen with Anthony. Then you’d break the news to Jonathan, perhaps your friendship too, and most certainly his heart.

You brought Anthony over to your house the next day, unaware of a lingering figure across the street who’s knuckles turned white and teeth gritted together.

After a few slow knocks, you lowered your head as you waited patiently for the door to open. You look down at your dress again, you had changed your clothes multiple times. Everything you put on made you feel ugly and insecure. The door swung open, Jonathan gave you a sympathetic look as he gestured you to come inside. His hands briefly rested on your shoulder as he took off your coat, revealing your simple yet elegant black dress. Leading you to the living room, you sat on the space gray couch, eyes looking over the small cheese board.

Jonathan wandered off to the kitchen, his back turned to you as he picked up two wine glasses and a fine bottle of shiraz. The sound of the dark red substance gracefully falling into the glass filled your ears as you played with the rim of your dress.

“So, how are you feeling?” Jonathan asked softly, standing tall as he held out your glass.

“Like shit” you mumbled, accepting the glass without hesitation and downing half of it within one big chug. Jonathan snorted lightly as he sat down next to you.

“Darling, darling, darling” he sighed, his lips resting on the rim of the glass. You rolled your eyes at his lecture like tone and expression. Feeling like he was going to scold you like a child. “You should have had me meet him first, for a third party perspective and opinion” Jonathan continued on after he took a sip.

“Didn’t realize this was mediation Jonathan” you gritted your teeth.

When Anthony didn’t show up to work one day, you found it extremely odd. Presuming that he would have contacted you if he wasn’t going to be showing up. You had messaged him a couple of times during the day but they were all left on delivered. It wasn’t until you got home from a tiring day's work that you saw the letter in your mailbox. By the time you got to his house, everything looked to have been moved out through the open blinds.

“I’m sorry darling, I am” Jonathan swore.

It was an opposing response from Jonathan. Yes, he was sorry with how negative you were feeling, but he couldn’t help but to feel happy at the outcome of your relationship. His fingertips brushed over your bare knee as you finished the glass, motioning the empty glass towards Jonathan for a refill.

He chuckled lightly and took the glass from you. The taste of grapes lingered on your tongue as you waited for his return. The glass was almost filled to the rim. Jonathan wasn’t much of a drinker, he always claimed how alcohol could kill his intellectual potential. But on nights like these, he made an exception for you.

When you were three drinks in, your thoughts and emotions came to light, just as Jonathan predicted. “I just-” you slurred, fingers trailing over the rim of the glass. Your eyes watered at the thought of Anthony and how he left you without proper closure. You blinked hard, the wine hitting you much harder than predicted, perhaps that’s what happens when you’ve hardly eaten all week. “Don’t understand” you eventually finished your sentence in a mumble as Jonathan returned with your fourth glass of wine. “He told me he was fixing things with his ex, moving across the country to be with her. I didn't even know about her…” You sighed loudly, feeling your eyes prickle and swell up.

“He’s a moron who cannot appreciate beauty, what else do I need to say darling?” Jonathan cocked an eyebrow to you, swirling the remaining drops of wine in his glass.

You felt dizzy, your thoughts were slightly disoriented as you hummed longly in return. There was a gentle sway in your body, as your tongue poked into the wine. Jonathan finished his wine and placed it on the coffee table with a clink.

Leaning closer to you, your heartbeat picked up and you could feel jittery over your skin. Were his eyes always that captivating blue? Your stomach turned, in a good way, a way you’ve forgotten about for so long.

“You deserve to be treated so much better” Jonathan confessed through a sigh, his arm snaking behind your back to pull you closer to him.

Of the few times you’ve drunken with Jonathan, he has never been this touchy. Yet, you couldn’t help but to feel a new sensation of this.

“I know, I’ll get over it eventually” you responded, avoiding eye contact with him. Yet you couldn’t help but to enjoy the warmth and security of his arm around your body.

“Do you know how a man should treat you?” Jonathan murmured, a small sly grin on his lips.

“How?” You frowned towards him in a growing blurry vision, unknowingly leaning closer to him.

“Worshiped every day, body, mind and soul” he answered calmly, his eyes slowly examining your body.

“You don’t mean that” you lightly scoffed, bringing the drink back to your lips to distract yourself, as if that will do any help.

When you put the glass down on the coffee table, Jonathan took your chin in his hand. Staring at one another, you waited for him to make a move, but he just admired you, his lips ajar open as his thumb rolled circles over your soft skin.

“I do” Jonathan vowed. Your head felt unfocused, your body felt like it was floating. This was like you were in a dream. “I can treat you so much better. I will treat you so much better” Jonathan corrected himself, now gripping onto your inner thigh instead of your chin. “Just give me a chance to show you how you deserve to be loved” Jonathan pleaded, pressing his forehead against yours. “Please” he begged softly, waiting for you to open the door for him. Your face turned away at his words, at his pleading.

On any other night, you probably would have ran for the hills. But tonight, you desperately wanted to get Anthony out of your mind. It felt contradicting with how right and wrong it felt. But it didn’t phase you what would happen tomorrow, you wanted Jonathan right now.

There was no response from you, Jonathan took that as his que to guide your face to directly look at him so he could kiss you. It surprised you with how soft his lips were, the way he hummed softly as he gently pushed his tongue into your warm mouth. After a quick stiff moment, your stance relaxed and you leaned closer to him. Your arms naturally wrapped around his shoulders to pull him closer to you. Jonathan groaned into your mouth, his hand pulled your hips over to straddle his lap.

It felt so wrong, but he was so skillful with that tongue of his. Your logic was imprisoned by your sensations right now. Soft hands running up and down your heated skin, you couldn’t resist but to moan back into his mouth. Your cunt was aching for him so you non controllingly began rocking over his already formed boner. He nibbled at your neck, causing you to giggle as you grind over him in an unsteady motion.

You lifted your hips up slightly as your hand brushed down his torso, Jonathan’s head fell back as he watched you, his mouth open. There was a slow moan from him as your hand cupped his crotch, Jonathan grinned widely, his own hands slipping down to unbutton his trousers. Quickly, your hand slipped underneath his underwear and you were stroking his firm size slowly.

“Let me take you to the bedroom” Jonathan pleaded and you hummed in a daze like state.

Jonathan picked you up and impatiently carried you to his bedroom. Giggling like a child over his shoulder, Jonathan laid you onto his bed, your flats falling off in the process. He straddled you down just as quick. The lamp was already on so you took a good look at his expression.

An animal. That’s what you saw initially despite your heavily drunken state. A predator who was ready to attack his prey and you were helpless right now, the back of your mind was hoping that you’d just sink into the bed to get away from him.

He wasn’t as gentle as you’d hope him to be as his soft hands groped your body. “What are you doing?” You murmured, as he slid down your body, his knees landing on the floor.

There was no response from him except a groan. He pulled your hips forward and scrunched your dress up. It felt like fireworks exploding up your skin, the way his fingers trailed over you. Jonathan pulled your thong off of your legs, kissing your inner calf afterwards.

“Wait…” you objected, common sense trying to snap you out of this trance, but he ignored you.

“Waited so long for this, so, so long” Jonathan moaned, crawling up your lower body until his breath reached your bare cunt.

Kissing your inner thigh, Jonathan looked at you, just wanting to take your nervous expression in for a moment. He placed your legs over his shoulders as his tongue slithered over your core. Your abdomen tensed and legs tightened around his head. His tongue zigzagged over sensitive skin, causing a rather loud yelp of pleasure. It was humiliating with how fucking good he could use that tongue of his.

Your growing orgasm built on your tummy as his tongue slipped inside your sweet hole. Your fingers gripped into his hair to pull his head away, it was just all so much, you felt like you were blacking out. But Jonathan’s head was stuck in your cunt like it was glued. He was lapping you up as if he was starving, his left thumb found its way to your clit and rubbed desperately to make you release.

“Jonathan” you moaned, eyes squeezed shut.

Jonathan only moaned in response, his mouth full of your sweet substance. You tried to hold it off, but failed miserably, coming all over Jonathan’s face without warning, your hips rocking in rhythm with your orgasm. However, Jonathan greedily ate you all up, quickly climbing on top of your body. He swiftly pulled your dress off over your head and his hands trailed over your breasts. A small laugh left his lips as he ripped off your nipple covers, his crotch pressed into your abdominal.

Jonathan smiled wickedly to you and even though you were still in your post orgasmic daze, you could see the craze in his eyes. But you were too intoxicated and horny to scrutinize him. Your arms reached out to pull him closer to you. With his smaller size, you didn’t expect his back to feel so firm. Kissing each other hungary, Jonathan’s hands quickly tried to undo his trousers.

His hips flexed back as he pulled out his size. Your lips separated as he stroked himself a few times, looking down to your entrance. Even though your vision was blurry, you could see how big he was crystal clear. You gulped heavily as Jonathan hovered back over you with his tip pressed against your entrance. Jonathan gave you a soft kiss on the lips as he began to thrust in.

“Oh! you feel like heaven. I have found paradise…” Jonathan declared through moans. He was most definitely the largest you’ve ever had. It was hurting more than pleasuring, but you were so wet. “Your cunt wraps perfectly around my cock darling” he praised, his hand brushing over your flustered jaw.

“It’s hurting” you whimpered, your body stiff underneath his. Jonathan blinked a couple of times but didn’t respond.

“You’re mine, all mine. Always have been, always will be” Jonathan grunted as he fully pushed himself inside of you. Your walls squeezed around his cock as you grumbled in agony. “You’ve finally come to realize” he exhaled, his hand brushing the side of your face as the pleasure slowly overthrew the pain.

His words seemed to have sobered you up. This is exactly what you were afraid of, this turning into ownership. Jonathan could see the glimpse of horror in your eyes, he smiled widely as he gradually picked up his speed as your canal adjusted to his size.

You wanted to throw him off of you. But your mind was so engaged in your physical sensations and drowsiness of the alcohol that you could only lay back and guiltily enjoy yourself, expressing how satisfied you were by your moans.

“Jerked off to the thought of you every single fucking night” Jonathan grumbled out, his nails digging into your flesh. “Such fucking torture” he spat.

Jonathan pushed your thighs apart as his cock traveled in deeper, groaning like crazy as his balls were slapping against your skin. His grip on your upper thighs will probably bruise by the morning. The mixture of both of your moans was heaven to his ears. You’ve never seen Jonathan smile so much, he couldn’t wipe it if he wanted to.

He also seemed to refuse to break eye contact with you, as if he was studying you or was afraid you’d run away if out of sight. His nostrils were flared and jaw clenched as he continued his pleasure-filled attack. You were pulsing around his size, his breathing seemed to stagger, pace losing its rhythm.

“Come on darling, one more time… I know you can be a good girl, come so I can” Jonathan moaned.

You can’t tell if it was a beg or a demand. His words were so gentle, but that look in his eyes was as if hell would break loose if you failed to comply. Regardless, you did as he asked, clenching as tight as you could around him as you cried out, your back aching as you swore you could see stars. Jonathan quickly followed, falling completely on top of you as his arms quickly snaked around you.

He kissed you passionately as he pumped his seed deep inside of you. When his lips pulled away from yours, he was moaning your name over and over. A wave of exhaustion crashed over you. Your eyes felt so drowsy, all of your energy completely drained dry. Jonathan caressed your cheek as your sight was quickly consumed by darkness.

What have you done?

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #jonathan crane #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane dark #the dark knight trilogy #dark smut #smut

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superhoeva · 9 days

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𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 – 𝐜. 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨 (𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, +𝟏𝟖) | an oldie but a goodie. the song is nothing can change this love by sam cooke. warnings include language, carmen being scared of good things, bodily fluid (mentioned), subby!carmen, soft fdom!reader, edging, and blowjob(s), handjob(s). pretty please reblog with a thought if you liked! <3 (wc - 3.3k)

The request has his brain short-circuiting because what?

“I said dance with me, Carmen.”

The look on his face–eyes blown wide and wild, expression something close to startled–tugs your mouth into a grin.

“Dance?” His face pinches as he repeats the word that feels foreign falling off his tongue. He doesn’t dance. He’s never danced. “I don’t dance. I’ve never danced.”

You can only grin wider. Gosh, he’s cute. The way his curls fall into his face, the steam that previously soared off the pan of chicken that now sits in the oven you can thank for that. Carmen’s eyes–no. His electric, striking, bewitching orbs of Nordic stare into the depths of your very soul as you slink from your spot against the counter and ease over to him. They’re full of fascination and a little hesitancy, but he doesn’t flinch when you reach for his hands.

He glances down at the way your skin heats his. When he raises his gaze, you’re even closer. His tongue slips out to wet his bottom lip, and he quietly repeats, “I-I don’t dance, sweet thing. And the chicken, the foods in the oven, I gotta make sure it doesn’t–”

A gentle squeeze of his hard shoulder quiets him. He blows out a sigh.

“You just put it in, Bear,” you remind him, and he sighs again. “Please just indulge me for a little bit? Thirty seconds tops.”

Carmen sniffs, thinking. You take the second to start the song you’d queued up. The soft entrance of a slow, swinging piano and bass and guitar through a nearby speaker startles Carmy back into reality. His chest rises with a tight breath at the voice that fills the room, and his entire body stiffens when you politely guide him closer to you.

He focuses intently on the way your palms slide up his arms. You stop at his biceps and rub your thumbs in a calming motion.

“It’s just, I’ve never,” he tries, hands squeezing into tight fists, completely unsure. “Never done this before.”

You nod because you want him to know that you hear him.

“I know, Carm.” You keep nodding, grasp slipping to grab his stiff arms and pull them down. They take on a mind of their own, automatically settling onto your hips. “But all you have to do is sway, okay? Just sway for thirty seconds. If you don’t like it, we can stop.”

So that’s what he does. And he’s as tense as you’ve ever felt or seen him. But he indulges you. And sways for much longer than thirty seconds.

Carmy doesn’t even notice when his eyes close, forehead tilting to press into yours. His grip becomes a little more sure and the time that passes seems to seep all the rigidity of his body right out.

By the chorus of the song, the two of you are moving in an effortless sync. He’s nearly wrapped all the way around you now, body pressed against yours as the weight of him sinks against you. It isn’t until the guitar solo that he pries open his eyes, face warming when he realizes you’re already looking back.

“I like this song,” he finally mumbles, voice small. “What is it?”

“Nothing Can Change This Love,” you whisper back. “Sam Cooke. One off his ninth album, I think.”

Carmen hms with a little nod. “Sam Cooke.”

“Yeah.”

Carmen’s face lights up with a closed-mouth smile. You match him, body shaking with the huffing laugh that leaves you. When the song ends, neither of you has the strength to pull away. You stand with your arms around his neck. Only now registering that, despite the absence of any music, you’re still swaying. With Carmen leading.

“...Can, uh, can we keep dancin’? Just for a little longer?”

He doesn’t meet your gaze when he asks, eyes tilted downwards. Tightening your arms, you reach and press a long, sweet kiss on his jawline. His eyes threaten to flutter shut at the feeling.

“‘Course, Bear. What song?” You mumble against Carmen’s skin. He doesn’t answer right away, instead taking a finger under your chin and directing your mouth to his. Pausing in his dancing, the man kisses you deep, needy. He only pulls away when his lungs force him to, but only enough to shake his head.

“No song. Just you.”

The words pull forth a smile with your nod. Carmen, eyes dancing across every inch of your face, returns the smile shyly.

This time when you dance–to the muted sounds of a busy evening that pour in through a closed kitchen window, the low-frequency hum sung by the building's electrical system, and the breathing of two intertwined souls falling deeper in love–Carmen holds you even closer. Tighter, with his eyes closed once more and chin sitting atop the skin of your shoulder. You smell like him and you, a perfect mix of something familiar and something newer that makes him feel like he’s floating.

In the past, good things have always scared Carmen. They still do, as they always come along with uncertainty. Happiness, joy, enjoyment, good things never fail to backfire and leave him to deal with the unfavorable repercussions. Stuck in a place where he is forced to face the fact that he shouldn’t have good things. That he can’t have good things.

Yet, as he stands here, you in his arms and him in yours, the tranquil air of the room lowers his guard. The pleasant, happy feeling in his everywhere allows him to enjoy this. Enjoy you. Enjoy the safety you bring without any dreadful feelings trailing behind it. He’s sure they’ll come sometime later, but he doesn’t think about that now because he doesn’t need to. You’ve got him.

It’s later after a hearty dinner of chicken with vegetables and half an hour of you watching some rerun on the television while Carmen watches you, that he has enough courage gathered to bring up something that’s been on his mind.

“You, uh…” he begins, finger rubbing aimless circles into your thigh while he’s slumped against you, “you remember when we talked about that thing?”

Puffs of air pepper gently from your nose as you process the words. You turn your head to Carmen.

“What thing, baby?”

Carmen swallows, clearing his throat. He raises off you but doesn’t meet your gaze. His eyes stay trained on his hand where he squeezes your leg to steady himself.

“Uh. That thing we talked about last week? With the, uh, the stuff.”

Carmen bites his lip at your growing smile and pinched eyebrows. He even has to hold back a laugh himself because the way he’s trying to say this sounds so stupid.

“Sorry, the stuff. The… sex… stuff.”

His voice trails off into nothing as he finishes the sentence, neck reddening when he pushes out the words. He holds on bated breath when you shuffle and think.

“Oh,” you let out, voice light. Carmen finally regains the ability to breathe. “You mean the whole edging thing I asked you about?”

Carmy is nodding before you can even finish the sentence. “Yeah. Yeah, that… is-is tha–is that something you’d still be, uh, up for, I guess?”

You draw in a long exhale, eyes cemented on a fidgeting Carmen. After what feels longer than the seven seconds that pass, you give him a gentle nod.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you reassure him. “Can I ask you, though, why bring this up now, Bear? Not that I’m mad or grossed out or anything because I was the one that brought it up the first time. But what made you start thinking about it again?”

Carmen sighs and runs his fingers through his curls. He scratches the top of his head, pursing his lips before he speaks.

“When we, uh, we danced earlier? Before dinner? That was new, I’ve never really done something like that before, but it was nice. I really liked it, doing something new with you like that.”

As he continues, Carm’s voice becomes a little less wobbly. He sits up a little straighter and actually looks you in the eye.

“And it’s just, I-I feel good. I feel really good right now with you. I always feel good with you, and I think that, uh, I think that it–the sex thing–would be something I enjoy. With you. Because of how… how good you make me feel.”

A beat passes. Carmen scrunches his face. “Did that make sense?”

“Yeah, Carm. That makes perfect sense,” you smile, your hand reaching over to take his. His thumb strokes across the skin of your palm as he stares at you with an amount of love that has you shuddering. You pull your voice down to a whisper. “Thank you for telling me that.”

Carmen moves and pulls you closer. With an arm around your shoulder and lips pushing against your cheek, he whispers back, “Thank you for dancing with me. And for making me feel safe.”

“Love you, Bear.”

Carmen gifts you another kiss.

“Love you more, sweet girl.”

The sheets are soaked–with sweat or lube or something. Carmen is too far gone to know what, but he can feel them sticking to his back as he arches for a third time in the past minute. His hands–the ones he promises to keep lowered against the bed–are fisted tightly at his sides.

“Fuck,” Carmen drawls out, quivering and shaking because he’s so, so close. Teetering on a glorious, head-spinning edge, and has been for the past thirty minutes. “Fuck, sweet girl.”

You smile at the whimper that leaves Carmen’s throat. One of your hands is snug around the base of his cock, the other up near his sensitive head. His hips jerk violently when you run the pad of your thumb over and across his frenulum.

“I’m close, I’m close, I’m close,” Carmen rushes out, head back and eyes shut completely. “Shit, I’m close.”

You slow your movement, soon coming to a complete stop. Giving his shaft one last squeeze, you pull your hands away and move them to rub his clenching things. You lower yourself even further and rest your chin against his hot skin, pressing light kisses onto his sack.

“Color?”

Carmen can’t answer. Your mouth is so close to him that he can feel the air fan against his cock and it jumps at the sensation. Even with his eyes closed, he blinks and fucking barely remembers to swallow the spit collecting in his mouth. When he tries to respond, his own gasp cuts him off.

“Can’t keep going until I have a color, my love–”

“Green. Fucking green,” Carmen tells you. “And sorry. Sorry, didn’t mean to cut you off, just-just please. Please keep going. Please.”

On his last please, he lifts his head to peek down at you. You’ve got such a pretty smile and your hands are still on his thighs and jeez, he feels so good. You make him feel so good, it burns.

All of the fluids mixing on Carmen’s skin has made him slick. You run your hands up and up and up until they reach his shining sack. Your thumb and pointer finger reach to form a make-shift cock-ring, and Carmen’s stomach rises with a large inhale.

Carmen’s eyes roll back lazily in his head, mouth falling open when your palm presses back against his cock. A choked groan pours from him as you start to stroke.

You make sure to move your hand as slowly as possible, and his body ends up rising and following you when you tug upwards. You repeat the motion again. And again. And again, each time a tiny groan leaves Carmen.

Your grip is gentle as you stroke Carmen and you find yourself unable to look away from the sight in front of you. He’s writhing, muscles tense and clenching, and wants so badly to fuck up into your hands. But he doesn’t and won’t. Not until you say he can.

“Oh, my God,” Carmen whispers, “feels so good. Can’t even talk.”

“Don’t have to talk, baby,” you promise him, hand speeding ever so slightly, and Carmen nearly lets out a sob. “Just breathe for me, okay?”

Carmen forgets to nod and then forgets his name when your grip moves upwards, secured tightly around his pulsing head. You stroke, harder and faster, Carmen’s breaths turning into pants. You move deliberately, making sure the skin of your fingers doesn’t leave the top of his cock.

By this point, he’s leaking out large beads of pre-come and something in you can no longer resist.

The ah Carmen releases is loud and it startles him. He loses the fight against his hips and they surge forward when you swipe your tongue directly over the opening in his tip. He lets out another noise, something long and whining, when you envelop his entire head.

“Close,” is all he can spit out. You leave him with one last circle of your tongue before pulling off, and he whines again. Your hands still, allowing him the time he needs. After a few moments, he gives you a short nod to continue.

“Good boy.”

The words set Carmen aflame. They’re small and quiet but echo in his head like thunder. It thrusts him to the brink of his long-awaited orgasm, your resumption of kneading of his cock only pulling him closer.

“I need to cum, sweet girl. Fuck me, I need’ta come. Can I come, please?”

Your pussy, soaking and also leaking onto the sheet beneath you, clenches around nothing at the request. As you answer, you bend and glide your tongue across him once more.

“Not yet, my love.”

Carmen moans but obeys and it’s so hard. He’s so hard and your stroking and licking and moaning against him. Looking at him with those eyes that he loves to get lost in. He’s tingling all over and doesn’t even bother to hold back whatever sounds exit him anymore.

You’ve sped up even more now and he can barely take it. Carmen’s eyes fill with tears and the control he holds over himself. Dwindling second by second. He’s losing himself but it’s okay because he’s with you.

Somehow, Carmen manages to spew out broken moans between his erratic breathing.

“Please, can I come,” Carmy sobs out and he can feel the actual tears leaking from his eyes. “Please, baby? So, so close. I wanna come, please.”

You take a long second to answer, wanting to hold him out until the very last second. Squeezing your hands a little tighter, breaths heavy and deep as you stare over Carmen.

“Go ahead,” you order over the squelching sounds of your drenched grip around his throbbing cock. Carmen groans loudly, mouth pulled tight.

“Yes?” He rushes out, making sure he’s heard you right. Part of him hopes it was just all a part of his imagination because he wants this feeling to last forever. Here, with you. Barely hanging on. Body tense and vibrating with this bliss.

“Yes,” you repeat louder, and there are not three seconds before Carmen’s entire body constricts and he lets out a wail. It seems to last forever and grows even louder when the first rope of cum spurts out of him.

Your mouth parts in semi-shock at the sight. He pumps out string after string, body glowing as he jerks and jolts against you and the bed. Whatever leaves Carmen’s mouth is so far from any intelligible words. Just a string of curses that melt together as he keeps cumming.

“Fuuuck, yeah. Ah, sh… shit, holy fuckin’ shit, feels so good.”

You only slow when his hand finally reaches up to gently grab your wrist. Even through the aftershocks and his last few beads of cum leaving him, he squeezes you tenderly. A long hiss leaves him when your hands slowly release his wet cock, and he lets out one last groan when the air of the room hits him.

Both of your pants are the only sound in the room. Carmen’s eyes have been shut for the better part of the last two minutes and he doesn’t have any strength to lift his head to look at you.

Somewhere in his blurred haze, Carmen feels your weight shift from on top of him to beside him. You feel both near and distant as you press kisses on his sweaty forehead. He isn’t sure but it sounds like you mumble something about you running to the bathroom and grabbing something for him.

Carmen doesn’t know if it’s seconds or years before you return, but the warm, wet feeling on his stomach and chest pries his open. He watches you in silence as you rub a damp cloth across him to clean off the fluid drying on his middle. Each wipe is followed by a small peck of our lips and it has Carmen’s eyes closing again.

He’s nearly sleeping by the end of it and you grin at the sight.

“Keep those eyes open a little longer for me, Bear, okay?”

You get nothing from him a smile again as you grab the water bottle set on the bedside table. You pop it open and use a delicate finger on his chin to pull him from his light sleep. When his eyes meet yours, he gives you a small hi.

“Hi, Bear,” you greet him quietly. “Need you to sit up a little and drink half of this for me. Pretty please.”

Carmen moves in a dreamy trance, raising slowly from the bed and onto an elbow. You help him hold the bottle, and he ends up chugging most of the liquid once he realizes how thirsty he truly is.

“You need some, too,” Carmen mutters after pushing away the water, but you shake your head and urge him to keep drinking.

“I’m okay, baby,” you nod, and he eyes you before drinking the rest. He swallows and huffs out a breath. “You okay?”

Carmen lies back down because his limbs feel like jelly.

“I think so,” he begins, and you run a hand over his head to smooth down his hair. “Don’t think I can walk, though.”

You snicker out a laugh and Carmen’s eyes light up at the sound. The hand on his hair sneaks down to his cheek and settles there. “You did so good, baby. Really good, you were great. So proud of you.”

“You were great. Made me feel incredible. Always make me feel so good,” he tells you lowly, his own hand raising to feel yours against his face. His eyes flutter shut and he kisses your palm twice. “And thank you for doing that with me. I-I really liked it. A little more than the dancing.”

This time you both laugh.

“Also, uh, as soon as I regain feeling in my legs, I’m gonna make you cum so hard that you’re the one that won’t be able to walk.”

Carmen’s words are slurred and he’s exhausted. And his eyes are closing again before he finishes the sentence. But his sense of humor is still there. You withhold the loud laugh that wants to leave you, so as to not disturb him.

In his half-sleep fog, Carmen’s arms pull you down to lay next to him. He nuzzles his still sweaty head into the crook of your neck, settling strong arms around you as he falls even deeper into sleep. Managing to grab the nearby blanket and throw it over the two of you, you hold him tight and keep holding him. Even when his light snores start.

The sheets are still a mess under you, but they’ll get washed in the morning. The next few minutes are spent watching Carmen’s chest rise and fall. The pleasant ache of your dripping core fades into a warm fuzz.

And soon, you’re following behind Carmen and are off into sleep. Dancing throughout dream realms where Carmen is the tide, you are the sun, and your love for each other is the moon sitting prettily in between.

#carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fic

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d0youc0py · 1 year

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hiii, i love your writing, and i saw your requests were open, so i wanted to send one your way! 💞 could you write something about a civilian reader who has to take care of ghost while he’s recovering from an injury? price sent him home to heal because he knew reader wouldn’t put up with his nonsense.

He hated it. Fine- hate was a strong word. Uncomfortable. That’s better. He felt unnatural. A man of his size being treated as though he was a fragile little newborn. He was mad at Price. Sending him home when he was perfectly capable of healing and finishing his mission.

“Do you want another popsicle?” Your voice rang from the doorway. He cringed inside.

“No.” He responded bluntly.

“Simon don’t be this way.” You pleaded. He shut his eyes tightly knowing if he so much as caught a glimpse of your soft eyes he’d cave. “You need to keep your fluids up- and no whiskey does not count.” You cut yourself off when you saw his mouth begin to open. You sat on the edge of the bed and traced your finger from the bridge of his nose all the way down his chest, then his stomach, stopping right above the waistband of his sweats. His eyes flung open.

“Do you want to come help me with dinner?” You asked softly. His eyes lit up. This was the first time since medical leave you’ve treated him like a functioning human being. He nodded his head. As he sat up pain shot through his abdomen, he quickly cut his pained groan off not wanting to deter your decision. He was surprised when you didn’t move to wrap an arm around him to push off from the bed. He swallowed back another pained groan. His head spun. He teetered but quickly found his footing and followed you willingly to the kitchen. You and Simon were never a big fan of cooking, but you found that when you did it together it really wasn’t something to dread. His eye twitched as he caught site of the twelve different flower arrangements Johnny had sent to tease him.

“Steak and salad.” You said grabbing the ingredients out of the fridge.

“Steak and baked potato.” He argued. You chuckled and shook your head.

“Can you grab a pan please.” You requested. He hummed to show he heard you but suddenly stopped. All the pans you owned were in the cabinet under the counter. He would have to bend over. The knife wound on his hip throbbed at just the thought of it.

“Sweetheart.” He said softly.

“Oh right silly me.” You brushed passed him and grabbed the large pan with ease. “You’re in charge of steak, I’m in charge of salad.” You ordered, handing him the pan. He nodded his head. He hated being helpless. His tense muscles relaxed at the sound of your gentle humming. This was what he lived for. The gentle domestic moments like this. You just being yourself- and letting him just bask in it. Heat flowed through this chest and crawled its way up to his ears and back down to his toes. He wiggled his toes in his socks. He snapped himself out of it and reached up to grab some seasoning, forgetting the seven inch gash in his side. He hissed and grabbed the counter. “Si.” You whispered softly. Your hands pressed themselves against his shoulder blades and you rested your forehead against his back. “You’re not okay.” You started. “We all know you can push through the pain, but why should you? You have nothing to prove to me.” You pressed a kiss against his back. Your fingers massaged themselves into his shoulder muscles. “You always take care of me, let it be my turn.”

“That’s not your job.” He grumbled. You could tell your words had impacted him. His voice broke slightly.

“No it’s not my job. I’m doing it because I want to.” You hummed pressing a few more kisses into his back. Between the kisses and your fingers digging into his shoulders he was putty in your hands. “Go lay down on the couch please.” You murmured against his skin. “You can have one whiskey after dinner, but only if you behave. Captains orders.” You whispered the last part in his ear and bit at it softly. He couldn’t contain the shiver that ran through his body and dutifully did as you asked of him.

Price could handle Ghost- but only you could handle Simon.

Thank you for all your kind words! And thank you for being my first request! 💚

#simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #price #John price #ghost cod #ghost cod mw2 #ghost cod mwii #ghost #gender neutral s/o #fluff #doyoucopy #d0youc0py #cod #cod fanfic #cod men

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siriusblack-the-third · 1 year

Text

The one word that best fits Percy, Annabeth thinks, is Gentle. And it is entirely by design.

Percy grew up hated by his stepfather, hated by his schoolmates and teachers and tutors. He grew up with the words "delinquent", "stupid", "troublemaker" thrown at him, stinging his heart at first and then sliding ineffectually off his back over the years. Annabeth has seen him at his worst, and she knows that it is not in Percy's nature to be gentle. He's a hurricane.

It's in everything he does.

His eyes shift and change with the tides, with his emotions, from happy to angry to sad to exhausted to smug all within moments of each other. Sometimes, she catches a glimpse of something Other, something that makes him look cruel and heartless in the worst yet most beautiful of ways. The first time she had seen that look was when he had packed up the head of Medusa to send it to the Gods.

(It had scared her, then. Now any reminder of it makes her laugh.)

He holds himself in a way that says fuck around and find out, in a way that says he's the most dangerous person on this planet and he knows it, in a way that makes you stop and look and then stamp down the urge to take a few steps back. His back is always straight and his shoulders are always pulled back, but he always looks relaxed. His head is always a little low, reminiscent of the way a bull lowers its head when it's going to charge. His hands are always in his pockets, fiddling with a pen that has been with him since he was twelve. People scatter out of his way like getting within ten feet of him would get them killed.

(They're not wrong.)

Annabeth can only describe his fighting as chaotic. He is a literal whirlwind, movements fluid and unpredictable, sword slashing through the air with such speed that it's almost invisible. He's terrifying and beautiful and mesmerizing when he wages war, all sharp edges and ruthless strikes placed right where it would take his opponent down the fastest. Sometimes when he feels particularly violent, his hits are non lethal yet painful, making his opponent cry and scream, making him grin with teeth too sharp and eyes too bright.

And yet.

Gentle is the best word Annabeth can think of to describe Percy.

Percy, who cradles her face oh so carefully when he kisses her softly and slowly, just the way she likes when a nightmare wakes her up. Percy, who curls up into a ball next to her and buried his head into her stomach to hide from the terrors in his own dreams. Percy, who looks at his sister with the most adoring look Annabeth has ever seen on his face, who smiles at his mother with that spark of awe in his eyes like he still can't believe he got such a wonderful mother, who is patient and caring with every camper that asks him to help.

She can only think of gentle.

Gentle, because Percy likes to be reminded of the good things in the world. Gentle, because Percy works towards being so despite it not being a natural part of him. Gentle, because after years of war and bloodshed and battle and violence, they have made it to peace. Peace, where they can afford to make the choice to be gentle.

Percy is a Hurricane. Percy is Gentle.

Annabeth loves all of him.

Tag list:

@narcissa-black-supermacy @the-chaosbringer @in-flvx @padfootastic @gracelesslady23 @mycupofrum @just-another-godless-god @fiendishfyre @ad1thi @prongsfoot-wolfstar @siriuslystarbucks @xxmysticrose18 @ghostie-06 @pan-diasaster @h-m-i-a-n @constant-diablerie @strwbi-laces @shanti-ashant-hai @remen-nyoodles

#percy jackson #percy pjo #pjo series #heroes of olympus #percy and annabeth #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson meta #meta #pjo meta #annabeth chase #percabeth #percy x annabeth #amrut writes

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venuslore · 6 months

Text

𖥔 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𖥔

summary ; steve has been admiring you for some time now, and you’ve been wanting him too, but one halloween party finally pushes you both to make a move.

pairing ; steve harrington × fem!reader

notes ; nsfw, pet-names (baby), self-fingering and female orgasm, mentions of bodily fluids, cussing, dirty talk, mentions of alcohol (let me know if i forgot any)

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

droplets of sweat gathered on the nape of your neck, pooling in the valley between your breasts, as you danced in the middle of the crowded room. the music was loud, almost too loud, but there was an undeniable electricity in the air. not from the atmosphere or the array of eyes on you from people you had never met. not even the alcohol that coursed through your system, but only between you and him.

him, steve harrington, the only person whose attention truly mattered.

you could feel his deep, lust-filled gaze boring into you from across the room, watching you so intently you were sure you were going to combust. he stood leaning up against the wall in the far corner, one arm raised to steady himself while the other held a cup to his lips. he adorned a recycled halloween costume as robin remained by his side, talking about who knows what, but despite the little nod here and there, all he could focus on was you.

steve loved watching you. he loved watching the way your body moved to the music. he loved watching the way you would meet his gaze, the slightest glint of a smirk tugging at your lips before continuing to pretend that he wasn't even there. he specifically loved watching the way your skirt would hitch up your thighs the same way it would whenever you went into his work.

he was sure he was the reason behind it. no, he knew he was the reason behind it. that you would purposely pull your skirt higher just for him, and even more so when you would bend over in the aisles pretending to look for something on the bottom shelf. being well aware that he was the only one that could see you.

he knew what you were doing — that you knew what you were doing — stringing him along and playing hard to get. you were challenging him. you weren't giving in to him like every other girl that looked his way recently.

you were making him work for it - for you.

except tonight he had other plans. tonight, he was finally going to get what he wanted. at least, so he thought.

"listen, i know it was my idea to crash this party, but it's kinda lame," eddie joins you, disrupting your dancing and slowing down your movements. "y'wanna find the others and get out of here?"

eddie was right. the party itself was lame. the only thing giving you any sort of entertainment was the free alcohol and the look on steve's face; steve who had now disappeared from where he stood only a moment ago as you peer over your friend's shoulder.

the munson boy waits for you to answer, your attention now absent from the conversation as you scanned the room rapidly but there was no sign of him anywhere. eddie repeats his question, but it's not until he snaps his impatient fingers in your face that you finally return to him.

"c'mon, let's find steve and robin and we'll go back to mine. can finally show you that new riff i learnt on the guitar," he imitates playing his sweetheart, hair bouncing in an unruly mess, as more bystanders begin to stare.

you laugh, giving him a slight nudge, "okay, munson. i'll search upstairs, you search downstairs."

the two of you pan off in different directions, you heading for the staircase by the front door as he began in the kitchen. as you pushed your way through the crowd, weaving yourself to the entryway, you spot robin at the bottom of them, but still no sign of steve.

you call her name, but your voice falls on deaf ears over the music. she twirls around, hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt when she finally spots you and a relieved smile bestows upon her lips.

"we're gonna go back to eddie's. where's steve?" you raise your voice, leaning towards her ear so that she could hear you.

"he went upstairs. something about needing a moment away from the music,” she gestures upstairs where there were far less people. "i'll go get him."

she turns to head up the stairs but your hand catches her arm before she can so much as put her foot on the bottom step, "it's okay, i'll get him. you go find eddie and we'll meet you at his van."

robin nods, though there seems to be a knowing look in her eyes, a hint of a smirk as if there were some obvious secret only you didn't know about, and she traipses off toward the kitchen in search of eddie.

once alone, you take one look up the large staircase and let out a deep breath. this was it, this was the moment you were finally going to tell steve that if he truly wanted you so bad, it was about time he did something about it.

with each step, your heart seems to beat a little bit faster. the top of the stairs growing further away and when you finally get to them, there are only a couple of small groups of people scattered along the balustrade. you weave your way through the crowd once more to find the bathroom and just as you're about to knock, it opens before your hand can graze the wood with your knuckles.

steve stands on the other side, eyes widening when he sees you, but the sight of him causes the breath in your throat to catch. his dishevelled hair, deep pink lips and dark eyes entrapped by a red tinge - he was truly a sight for sore eyes.

"y/n," your name falls off the tip of his tongue like sweet honey, sending an immediate wave of bumps across your skin. "are you okay?" he looks almost concerned, brows furrowing when it takes you a moment to answer.

"uh, yeah. we're going to ditch the party and, um, and..." you pause for a beat, words turning to a jumbled mess inside your head and all the confidence you had tried to bestill had disappeared. "... um, head back to eddie's. we're going to head back to eddie's." you repeat it a second time for safe measure.

he nods, slowly, his eyes purposely falling to your lips as he exhales and leans back against the doorframe, "yeah. i mean, we could do that..." his words are even slower, pulling you in with each syllable. "or... we could talk about what's really going on here?"

this was it. this was the moment he was finally going to do something about it.

"i have no idea what you're talking about." you lift your right shoulder into a shrug, pursing your lips before gazing up at him through your lashes.

his lips part as he leans in closer, his face so close you could feel his alcohol-saturated breath on your cheek. "so, i'm just imagining you pulling up that pretty little skirt of yours on purpose, huh?"

you almost gasp, throat tightening with need. need for him. "apparently... though, it's nice to know you've been thinking about me."

the devilish grin on your face now infuriates him because, once again, you were in control.

a breathy chuckle leaves his lips, fingers raking through his hair, "what am i going to do with you?"

"i don't know. what are you going to do with me?" a moment of realisation passes through his eyes. you want him to do something about it, want him to finally give in to the urges. all this time, he had been waiting, and now, here you were, allowing him to have what had been torturing him.

while his head races with a million thoughts, in reality, only seconds had passed by, but those few seconds were more than enough to build a wall of tension. his gaze falls to your lips once more, and in a heated movement of passion, he finally takes the leap and presses his to them.

soft moans reverberate through his neck, daring to carry you away as your fingers curl through his hair. you press yourself against him, almost knocking him over, but he answers your neediness and pulls you into the bathroom to close the door and lock it.

all the tension, flirty looks and suggestive gestures that had been building up over the past few months had finally started to unravel in a matter of seconds. igniting you both so much so that you were sure to catch fire.

the kisses seem to last forever, despite feeling rushed, and when he starts to trail his lips down the side of your neck, you're left a hot mess as you try to regain your breath. your core was already aching for attention, throbbing within your underwear, as his hands ran rampant all over your body.

he glides his tongue across your skin, hair tickling your face as he begins to suck lightly, "you've no idea what you've done to me. how badly i've wanted this." he mumbles against you, sparking thought in your mind, and at this, you gently push him away and slide yourself back on the counter.

"is that so?" you breathe heavily. "tell me about it."

there's a glint of confusion in his eyes, brows slightly furrowing, as he stands between your legs. you had so much power over him and you planned to keep it that way.

if you gave in to him so easily, all the long months you had spent teasing and hinting at him would've been for nothing. he needed to know that you weren't going to give yourself up to him just because he wanted it - he needed to earn you.

"d'you really want me, harrington?" your words are low, breathy, sending shivers down his spine as he gazes into your eyes.

"fuck," he nods, the word shakily falling from his lips and he swallows hard. "i want you so bad."

your lips quirk up once again, heart beating so fast it was thrumming in your ears. you lean forward, lips barely grazing his, and whisper, "tell me what you want... while you watch me touch myself." before planting your teeth around his bottom lip and tugging on it.

"w-what?" there's a hitch in his voice as you feel yourself growing wet within the confines of your underwear. he's stunned. eyes wide and jaw taut.

"tell me what you want, and i'm yours, but... touch me, and you lose." your words are barely above a whisper but they're enough to send shivers down his body.

his breath catches in his throat, letting out a small gasp, as his dewy brown eyes bore into you once again. only this time, there was determination clouding them. he wanted you. he wanted you so bad, and he was going to do everything he could to get you - to finally feel you.

he opens his mouth to speak but stops when you lean back against the mirror, hitching your skirt up and spreading your legs before him. revealing the black lace underwear you had worn in anticipation. the same pair that he had only ever caught glimpses of.

"what's the matter, harrington? you like watching me... don't you?" you ask, coyly, batting your lashes.

he groans, lulling his head back to reveal his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows once more. you lift a finger to touch the tip of his chin, letting it trail down his chest before landing between your legs. he watches your hand as if his life depended on it.

you slowly trace the edges of your underwear where your core was barely covered. lips poking out around the thin material, gathering up your wetness when your finger starts to rub small circles over the top of them.

"are you wet?" steve asks, and you nod, brows arching from the touch already.

he shuffles nervously on his feet, pulling at the material around his crotch to give himself more growing space, but his eyes never leave you. not for a second. and they only double in size when you finally move your panties to the side, confirming your answer - your sweetness glistening under the dim bathroom glow.

"holy f-fuck, y/n," he retorts with astonishment, almost falling to his knees at the sight of you before him. "you're killing me here."

"tell me more," you press the tips of your fingers to your tongue, collecting the saliva that had gathered, and gently start moving them across your sweet little bundle of nerves.

"you're so fucking pretty, baby. i bet you're so warm too. i bet your pretty little pussy is so fucking warm," his words caress your ears as your movement starts to speed up, building up the sensation in your core. "i want you so bad. i want to feel you wrapped around my cock. every fucking inch of you."

a small chuckle falls from your lips, as you now press your middle finger into your hole. moaning at the feeling and slowly you begin to fuck yourself, all while steve's eyes remain trained on you. catching a glimpse of you fingering yourself but focusing on your facial expressions and the way you're making your own mouth fall open with ecstasy.

"fuck your little hole, baby," he says, almost demandingly, which again makes you want to prove that you were still in control. so you add another finger. "fucking hell, i want to taste you so bad."

"mmm-yeah? you wanna taste me, harrington? you wanna know what my pretty little pussy tastes like?" your words are slightly muffled, as you continue to penetrate yourself. fingers gliding in and out of your goodness with ease, hitting just the right spot as the top of your palm rubs your clit, causing your hips to buck up a little.

his hand involuntarily falls to his crotch, he didn't think you noticed. but it was a little hard not to when he begins palming himself through his pants as his eyes burned with so much desire. desire for you.

you can feel the coil within your core on the verge of breaking, ready to snap as you near your end. the pleasure of it all becoming too much, as your hips buck more rapidly, face contorting and mouth falling agape. you grab onto steve's jacket with your free hand, gripping the material and bringing him closer.

"f-fuck, i'm gonna cum," your breathing is unsteady, all over the place as you get closer, wrapping your arm around steve's head to grab a fistful of his hair. “make me cum, harrington.”

“show me how you cum, baby. show me how pretty you look when you let it all go. you do that and i’m gonna fill you up so good,” his voice is low as he presses his head to yours. “you want me to bury my cock in you, don’t you?”

"mmm- fuck yeah," your moan is cut off by steve's mouth as he presses his lips to yours once more. immediately gliding his tongue across them for permission and you give it to him, letting his tongue enter.

and just like that, you're overcome with stimulation. a wave of sensation coursing through you but steve doesn't pull away, instead, he muffles your cries with kisses as he takes in the sight of you. completely vulnerable as you chase your high. chest rising and falling at a dramatic pace as your hips twitch and buck, eyes glazed over and brows arched. to hear the sweet noises you made, muffled or not.

it was a sight he had only seen once, but, oh boy, did he want to see it again.

"oh, fuck," you sigh, words split by your panting as you try to regain your breath. you still hadn't stopped fingering yourself, only slowed down the movements as your creamy goodness collected along them.

"i'm that good of a kisser, huh?" steve chuckles, staring down at you still slowly pumping your digits into yourself, eyes unwavering from the wetness that covered them.

"whatever makes you sleep better at night," you smirk, finally pulling your fingers from your pussy at the same time someone knocks on the door. "i guess that's our cue to go. eddie and robin will be waiting for us."

you both slide off the counter, your underwear slipping down to your feet as you quickly wash your hands. but rather than pulling them back on when you’re done, you gather them and scrunch them into a ball.

"what are you doing?" steve asks, confused when you pull the pocket of his jacket open and slip them inside.

"think of it as a parting gift," you smile, patting it closed then lean up to place a soft kiss on his lips, "plus, it's easier access for later."

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