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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 8 months

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TOEING THE LINE ─── robert fischer ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “Love him. Love him and let him love you. Do you think anything else under heaven really matters?” — ‘Giovanni’s Room’, James Baldwin.

pairing. robert fischer x secretary!reader

summary. being robert’s secretary means doing everything for him. everything.

warnings. swearing, oral sex (m), creampie, p in v, mention of handjob, sex as stress relief, intimacy issues, quickies, crying, fluff, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 6.8k

a/n. honestly this is just downright filth. robert & reader’s relationship/the way they treat each other is also a little confusing so i apologize LOL

Being Robert’s secretary means doing everything for him: sending congratulatory gifts to his clients, picking up his drycleaning, answering his emails, and even booking his dentist appointments.

It means doing everything he asks, and everything you think he needs; he trusts your judgment, he said, because you know more about him than anyone in the entire world — even himself.

It means doing everything for him. Everything.

Robert had heaved a large sigh as he sat down in the backseat of his car; undone his tie; ran a veiny hand through his gelled hair. From that much, you could tell he was stressed. You knew him like the back of your hand, and, after being his secretary for three years, you also knew what relieved him best.

Your lips are wrapped around his cock the moment he gets home.

You were kneeling between his legs, hands curling around the base of his cock and stroking whatever you couldn’t fit - which wasn’t much, your throat having long since been trained to take his length all the way.

Grunts and groans spilled out of his mouth above you, but you didn’t look at him; you never looked at him - he’d been adamant about that, when you first sucked him off. Robert never told you why, just that your gaze should never reach his; you thought it had something to do with his vulnerability, his parental issues rearing its ugly head in every part of his life, even his sexual one.

Robert’s hands wrapped around your wispy locks, giving you a makeshift ponytail, and you flicked small licks on his tip before descending back down on him. His grip on your hair tightened, and as you curled your warm tongue along his shaft, he began to bob your head up and down on him, faster, harder, hard enough tears formed in your eyes.

He was stressed, so he was rough. But you took it in stride: he was your boss, after all, paying you the big bucks for your service, be it actual secretarial duties or requests just a step away from prostitution.

You gag, once or twice, on account of how brutally the head of his cock is bruising the back of your throat, and Robert slows down; stills like he’s nervous you’ll break, but you continue expertly, focussing on lapping up the beads of precome spilling from his slit. You breathed in and out shakily, ignoring the ache in your jaw.

His hands then left your hair, instead fumbling for the armrests of the leather chair and squeezing down on them as his back arched and his head threw back: he was close.

When one of your hands left his length and reached down to fondle his balls, Robert let go, a stuttered moan leaving him, and he released his load straight down your throat. You felt it spurt and coat your mouth, wet and thick. The only thing left in the room was your breathing, his high and tinny, yours haggard and desperate for oxygen.

After a moment, you got up, noting how tight your legs felt while wiping a drop of come from the side of your mouth with your thumb. “Rest up, Mr. Fischer,” you insisted gently, resuming immediate professionalism, “you have a nine-o-clock with the head of Proclus Global tomorrow.”

Between breaths, Robert finally looked at you with heavy-lidded eyes, buttoning his dress pants back up. “Saito?” he wondered aloud.

You nodded silently in response. It was certainly odd to inform Robert about his schedule and meetings like you didn’t just have his hard cock in your mouth, but after three years it became part of the job. You reckon you could ride him and still arrange his doctors appointments by phone.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Mr. Fischer.�� You addressed him with that title, ‘Mr. Fischer’, to keep a distance. Despite what you often did for him, you still considered yourself just his subordinate; just his secretary.

You then turned, kitten heels clacking quietly on his hardwood floor, primly and properly leaving his condo with the taste of his salty come still imprinted on your tongue.

ii.

By eight am sharp, you’ve returned to his condo. Robert would need a little more than what he got last night, especially since he’d be meeting Saito, like you said.

You mapped out his habits and what he was like a long, long time ago. He’s got a higher-than-average sex drive, but no time to be in a relationship with anyone — thus, your duties. Blowjobs after a long day and a quickie at least five times a week are a must, and never, ever, kiss him.

Robert’s… well, a slight sex addict, having to regularly fuck or get pleasured just to keep sane, but intimacy’s got him hiding under the covers like he’s just seen a ghost. You, on the other hand, can’t discern the difference between if you have sex and kiss or just have sex - it's both sex.

It’s just a thing that needs to be done in the end, and in Robert’s case, it’s like eating or sleeping: he needs it to live, so he gets it and lives. Simple as that. There are no feelings between you two, and it’s been that way for as long as you’ve been his secretary.

You entered Robert’s condo easily, having a key and all, where you then found him pacing in his large walk-in closet, fiddling with his rings.

You knocked lightly on the wall to alert him, stepping in when he noticed you and visibly relaxed. “Good morning, Mr. Fischer.” you stated, setting his drycleaning down on one of the velvet settee benches in the middle of the room.

“Morning,” Robert said absently. Without warning nor another word, he stepped closer to you, hands immediately pressing into your waist. His palms were sweaty, a feverish need radiating off him as he kneaded at you, pressing you against one of the many closet doors.

He was nervous, no doubt the result of the impending meeting with Saito, which equated a frenzied mood sexually. So, you wasted no time, quickly unbuckling his trousers and unzipping his fly, letting your stockings pool at your ankles, hiking your skirt up to your hips.

Robert’s hands grasped at your soft thighs, lifting a leg around him as one of your hands slipped down the waistband of his underwear, pulling his cock out. You pumped his length slowly, before spitting into your other hand, pushing your panties to the side and coating your cunt in the slick. You decorated your lips with the wetness, then carefully lined up his thick head with your entrance.

You bit your lip, wincing as he pushed in; no matter how many times you’d fucked — which was plenty — you always felt that stinging stretch when he first entered you.

From then on, Robert focussed solely on his own pleasure; on ridding himself of that anxious need, trying to fuck his insecure feelings deep into your cunt prior to seeing Saito. He grunted, a string of breathless curses leaving his mouth with every harsh thrust, just snapping his hips against yours repeatedly and chasing his high.

Your face was pressed flat against the shoulder of his cashmere suit jacket, and you shut your eyes, letting Robert use you - use your hole, specifically. You’d asked him once why he didn’t just masturbate or use a sextoy, and he told you that nothing beats a hot, wet cunt.

It didn’t matter to him what the girl looked like or what she cost, as long as her pussy felt good. That’s how he hired you: you’d spent an entire month by his side, and before returning to America from his vacation in Sydney, he confessed he’d never taken a cunt as delicious as yours. He didn’t have time to date, but he did have time for a secretary.

That was the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him, pleading for you to work under him, just so he could feel your plush pussy clenching around his cock once more. You’d never been a secretary before, but he promised you’d be taught, that the pay would be good, and that once he got married you could be whatever you wanted in the company - as long as, while you were still his secretary, you’d fuck him when he asked.

“Fuck,” Robert growled out near your ear, pounding mercilessly into your sopping cunt. Despite the selfishness of this quickie, him paying absolutely no mind to you, you couldn’t help how your mouth went ajar and your hips rutted into his.

Robert had the best dick you’d ever fucking felt, average length but girthy, stretching you wide open. That first time you’d fucked, the one night stand, he kept telling you how tight your cunt was around his thick cock, and the next time after that, he remarked how you were just as tight as before. He was impressed, it seemed, how after each round of splitting you open with his dick, you always seemed to tighten back up.

You bit your lip, fighting back any moans from leaving your mouth, and focussed on gripping your arms around Robert’s neck. You noted how one of his hands dug into you soft thighs, pulling you toward him and sliding in and out of you desperately, like he’d never fuck again, while his other hand came up to the crown of your head, petting you softly.

Though your mind was foggy with pleasure, you knew it was an out-of-character gesture: being gentle with you, acknowledging your presence rather than just your cunt. Robert wasn’t a romantic man - you didn’t think he knew how to romance someone, especially since his parents' marriage certainly wasn’t winning any awards for perfection.

So, just doing that had the gears in your mind turning. You’d fucked him for three years straight, and not for a moment did he ever do something like that.

But then, as you were building toward an orgasm, that familiar pull in your stomach sending heat over your body, begging to go faster, Robert came, jetting his creamy load deep within you — and you forgot all about his odd actions.

“Feel s’good,” he mumbled, fucking you still. You were unsure whether he meant his high or your cunt, but nonetheless, he came down from his orgasm by shoving his come deeper in your cunt with his length.

Then, “What - time is it?” he said breathlessly, quickly pulling his softening cock out of your pussy and turning away so as not to face you.

You blinked rapidly, leaning against the wall and trying to regain your composure, ignoring the grief swelling in your insides at the incompletion of your orgasm. “8– 8:10, sir.”

Robert hummed in acknowledgment, still not looking at you as he redressed himself. You took in your boss’s form, how quickly his attitude changed from desperate to stone cold after sex; after receiving what he needed, like a fucking transaction, and you suddenly felt shameful: this here was one of the most powerful men in the world, owner of Fischer Morrow, and there you were, his secretary and fucktoy he could replace at any time.

You weren’t special - you weren’t anything, especially not to him. If - no, when, he meets someone who pleasures him better, you’re out of a job. He said he’d help you when he got married, but you don’t think that’s happening anytime soon… and you know Robert: he’ll get tired of you, like the spoiled little kid he probably was, and will just find some other toy to play with.

“I’ll be waiting in the lobby, Mr. Fischer.” you informed him numbly after pulling up your panties and stockings, shakily stepping out of the walk-in closet. It wasn’t often you felt like this - this being pathetic and used, because on the surface, this job was perfection. Good pay, good reputation, a boss who fucks you - and fucks you good.

Sure, you could probably count on one hand how many times he made you come in these past three years, but it still felt nice, even if he never drove you past the edge. But, these days… you started wondering if this was the rest of your life.

You couldn’t get a boyfriend, no, not without lying to him about what you did for a living, and there was still that uncertainty in the stability of this job. Robert had deep parental and intimacy issues - as stated by his therapist, in which, after eight weeks of seeing him Robert left in a fitful, teary, suffocating rage - and, beneath his cold exterior, was a hotpot of bubbling emotions he never deigned to reveal until he was seconds away from blowing up.

In short: Robert was the most moody, unpredictable person you’d ever met, and working under him was like balancing on a tightrope. Because he never said what irritated him, always emotionlessly telling you to stop if he preferred you didn’t do something, you could never tell what was actually pushing all the wrong buttons.

Before waiting in his condo’s front lobby like you said, you ducked into one of his many bathrooms and wiped the warm come dripping down your leg, flushing as you saw the ruined state of your panties and stockings: his white load had smeared all over the fabric, and, while you could get most of it off your dark stockings, it stayed on your underwear.

You had to wear his come on your panties for the entire day, and in a way, it felt like Robert owned you.

That’s why… you had decided to quit. You wrote your two weeks three months ago and have been holding onto it ever since — because you didn’t know how to tell him you wanted to quit, especially since your heart didn’t want to.

Your head knew you were meant for more than secretarial duties and a quick fuck, but your heart ached for the lonely being that was Robert Fischer. That young CEO whose grievous relationship with his father was aired out in the newspaper, the man who went through succeeding the company as well as any young person could: fumbling, being crushed by the weight of his late father’s suffocating legacy, and the boy who didn’t know why he could never get his fathers love or approval.

The heart wants what it wants, but the head knows best. You resolved to hand him your resignation by the end of the day, listening to your head, and got ready to leave this part of your life behind; to leave Robert Fischer behind.

iii.

“What's this?” Robert asked in his office without looking up at you, gaze still trained on the papers he was signing. You had entered his office to deliver his mail and ask questions about various appointments - when best to schedule that lunch with his godfather, that kind of stuff.

And… to hand him your 2-weeks.

“It’s my 2-weeks, Mr. Fischer.”

“…What?” Robert set his weighted fountain pen down, looking up in disbelief.

“I’m resigning, sir.” You said gingerly, gaze trailing away from his own, ignoring how his expression went from neutral to crestfallen.

“I pay you well enough, I’m sure?” He said, sounding frantic and not doing the best job of hiding it with the shaky smile on his face.

“It’s not - about the pay. I’m just… I’m ready to do other things.”

There it was: you didn’t want to wait until he got tired of you and kicked you to the curb. This job was fucking comfortable, and that unnerved you. Working diligently, fucking him diligently, saving up money your younger self would’ve never thought could ever come your way - it was comfortable and you were used to it, but you just… couldn’t take it anymore.

You weren’t going anywhere like this. Not with Robert, not with your life, not with yourself. When you first took this job, you wanted to help him. Call it naive pity, but you thought the terribly mournful Robert Fischer could be fixed by getting fucked. God, your younger self had been out of her mind.

So, here you were, three years later and resigning from one of the wealthiest men in the world, heart begging you not to, head wanting to leave immediately.

Robert sighed, but nodded slightly. “Okay. Okay. I’ll send you your wages as soon as possible, and I can write a recommendation for your next—“

“There’s no need, Mr. Fischer,” you protested quietly. “My duties here weren’t exactly… just secretarial.”

Robert blanched, but agreed quietly. As you were about to leave, he spoke up. “Are you… free tonight?”

You tilted your head slightly, processing the topic change. “I have no plans for the evening, if that’s what you’re asking. I can come over after work—“

“No— no, not…” Robert grimaced, pressing two fingers between his eyes. “Proclus Global’s holding a charity gala. Tonight. Come with me; it’ll be your last event as my secretary.”

Your face warmed at your previous assumption he just wanted to fuck. “…Certainly, Mr. Fischer. There’s no need to ask, I’m obligated to agree.”

“I don’t… I don’t want to ruin any plans you have.” Robert’s lips pressed into a thin white line at your words. “If it - you don’t—“ He sighed, unable to say what he wanted properly, “You don’t have to say yes to everything I ask of you.”

“Work takes precedent, sir. You’re my boss - it’s only natural I follow orders.”

Then: “If that’s all,” you said, before promptly exiting his office, turning away and ignoring how crestfallen he looked.

It was normal for you to accompany him to various events, seeing as he was single, and you were his hot, young secretary — and it was an expected duty of yours after the first time you went with him.

You couldn’t figure out why his behavior had suddenly changed, why he’d become considerate— but perhaps it was because you were quitting. Although Robert’s emotional state was generally unpredictable, you supposed the professional part of him wanted to send you off nicely; have these last two weeks of yours not be soured.

Anyway, it seemed inviting Robert to the gala was what Saito was here for - and, presumably, to add some pressure onto Robert, since their companies were rivals. Robert was always… bothered, you could say, prior to seeing Saito.

The man made it a habit, consciously or unconsciously, to set Robert off, either by not-so-innocently referencing the late Maurice Fischer in their conversations, or by down right comparing Robert to him. It certainly wasn’t motivated by a personal grudge, no, Saito just wanted to see Fischer Morrow suffer, and for Proclus Global to rise. It was business politics, something you couldn’t - and didn’t want to - wrap your head around.

The only thing you had in mind now was if you’d dressed up well enough: you had a small collection of gowns that you’d gathered over the years attending events with Robert, but every time, he gave you his card and told you to pick out something nice. You guessed that he was the kind of man who preferred to always show up in something new, something better — and that translated to whoever was perched on his arm.

That, being you, who’d bought a black satin and lace dress with a slit on the left thigh. You knew what Robert usually wore to these occasions, so you dressed accordingly - and it was an accurate foretelling, to say the least. When you’d entered Robert’s condo, he was standing in the lobby, strapping a Tudor onto his left wrist. He was head to toe in black satin, just as you were, hair neatly coiffed against his forehead.

Your heels clacked loudly on the lobby tile, and he noticed your presence. “Black satin,” he scanned you up and down, “good.”

“Of course, Mr. Fischer.” You said politely, taking his arm when he lifted it up. The two of you headed to the car, and you didn’t miss how Robert opened the door for you first, like you really were his date for that night.

His behavior throughout that entire day had been downright weird, and even more so now, because if you really pressed Robert, he’d tell you you were just a piece of eye candy for his clients to ogle over, so they’d lower their guards; get distracted and forget to pry him for information regarding the company.

When you got to the event — which was taking place in a grand banquet hall in one of the many buildings Saito and his wife owned — a flock of people amassed, all greeting Robert and not-so-subtly alluding for him to head over to their table and discuss business matters.

There were also various clients and colleagues of Robert’s who’d come over to catch up with the young CEO, and many of them commented, as usual, about the plus-one by his side.

“And who’s this beautiful young lady?” One of the older men asked, raking his gaze all over you. It was clear as day: all of the men there were undressing you with their eyes.

You didn’t shy away, however, instead smiling thinly. “I’m Mr. Fischer’s secretary,” you told the group, tilting your head slightly and baring your canines. They could stare at you all they liked, but you weren’t interested in letting them know much more about you than your position.

It didn’t matter, anyway - finding out you were just his secretary made them see you differently. In whispered tones, they’d tell Robert they’d give anything to see you squirming beneath them, and he’d laugh a hollow laugh that didn’t reach his eyes and certainly didn’t come from the heart. To keep up appearances, buttering up his clients and letting them believe he was an easygoing guy, Robert would agree good-naturedly, but not without looking abashed, like he was too professional to actually ever breach that line.

Like his hand hadn’t disappeared from your arm, trailing across your backside and groping the soft fat of your ass, digging into you. Like you hadn’t stroked his cock in the car, gently pumping him with your spit-slicked hand.

You then broke away from Robert and the large group of businessmen to chase after a waiter who was holding a tray of champagne. In doing so you found out that Saito’s wife was, really, the main host of this charity ball when she, and several other women and wives of said business men, crowded around you, not unlike their husbands did to Robert.

You greeted them kindly, blandly replying to their invasive questions: no, I’m just Mr. Fischer’s secretary, no, he is not accepting marriage proposals, sure, I can set up a meeting between you and one of our energy advisors if you give Fischer Morrow a call tomorrow.

You let them talk circles over themselves, silently nodding, for Robert always reminded you to speak as little as possible. It would do no good for them to assume you and Robert were together — they’d tear you apart.

When the conversation drew its focus away from you entirely, you skittered away to find the waiter from earlier. An hour or two had passed since you’d arrived at the gala, and you indulged, letting yourself down a couple more glasses of that addictive drink. You were just about to grab one more, when you conveniently reunited with your boss and date for the night.

Robert looked peeved, perhaps something to do with how boisterously Saito was laughing across the hall, and in a moment of quick thinking, you pulled him closer to you. “Mr. Fischer,” you whispered, voice tranquil, “if all has been accomplished for the night, I suggest we take our leave.”

He looked up at you, oddly, like he was seeing you for the first time. “Yes,” he agreed quietly, “yes… you’re quite right.”

Without any goodbyes, the two of you swiftly hooked arms once more, and exited the building. The cool night air bristled around you, nipping at your skin, and Robert’s hands dropped from your arm, instead slipping into your own and keeping you close to him.

At the car, he opened the door for you again, helping you in gently, before sliding in on the opposite side. When you turned to face him, he absently brushed something out of your hair with his long, nimble fingers. “Dust,” he said simply, peering deep into your eyes.

You stared back at him, but your thoughts were elsewhere. He’d never toed the line like this before;

he’d never looked you in the eyes so much, held your hand, plucked something out of your hair or pet you or held you so close — out of the context of sex — that you could smell his cologne. He had never been so compassionate, so romantic, like this relationship of yours was organic and authentic, not transactional and emotionless.

The car ride back to his condo was quiet. His hand did not find yours again, not even to hungrily snake up your thigh and under your skirt — Robert was frozen, staring out the window and nowhere at all meeting your gaze.

Finally, when you got back to his place, you trailed after him — he trusted you to do what he asked and to do what you thought he needed, and that look of vexation he’d had before leaving only meant one thing to you: he was bothered, and a bothered boss does not mean good business.

When you’d both entered his bedroom, Robert stopped, and turned to face you. His hands found yours, tenderly slipping his fingers into your own and pulling you close to him, and you backtracked.

“Mr. Fischer?” You murmured, feeling how his rough skin brushed against you. “What are you… doing?” you questioned, your mind filled to the brim with the same question: what was Robert feeling right now? About you? For you?

He called your name out softly, like it was the only word he knew, shining blue eyes examining you intensely and flicking down to your lips every so often. “Don’t quit. I - I… need you.”

Your brows knitted - so it was about your resignation. “Mr. Fischer, you don’t need me, you… you need sex, you need someone to - to fuck you—“ You protested, wrenching yourself away from his grip.

“No! No. I don’t need you like that. I need you, not - not your fucking cunt, I - can’t live without you.” Robert’s hands pulled you back to him, holding you close like you’d crumble into ash if he didn’t.

Then, he kissed you, soft lips benevolently pressing into your own, long and deep like he was trying to melt into your touch. He was slow and chaste but there was a hint of desperation in his saliva, like he wanted to consume you, and you him.

You pulled back, alarmed, your chests rising and falling in sync. Robert had kissed you; he had crossed the line he vehemently set, the line he commanded be kept in place. You blinked, mouth opening and closing, unable to form words.

“Robert,” You said at last. Robert, not Mr. Fischer. Not Mr. Fischer, not now, not with how quickly his face had fallen from feverish to devastated. “you don’t think you love me, do you?”

Robert’s brows furrowed. “Think?” He repeated incredulously. “Do I think I love you— god, I… I do love you. I don’t think I love you, I know I’m in love with you.”

You looked at him dolefully, willing your heart not to beat out of your chest. “But why? I am certain you can’t answer that, Robert, because you don’t love me, you are - are merely feeling abandoned—“

“I love you because you know more about me than anyone in the entire world—“

“That is my job, Robert—“

“No, it’s not, and you fucking know it. You did more than I’ve ever asked of you: you know me, Robert, not Mr. Fischer, CEO of Fischer Morrow. You know me.” His finger dug into his chest, enunciating each point, and you couldn’t help the way his words swayed you - consciously or not.

In your silence, Robert continued. “And - and, I adore the way you think, how you laugh and how you see the world, how - how you understand people, people who’ve never had someone take the time to ever fucking do that. How you care. So - so… stay. Stay by my side.”

In the kiss, you two had found yourselves perched on his bed, and he looked at you, lips bitten between his teeth nervously. “Please,” he murmured, hand coming up to your cheek and meekly tracing shapes on your skin.

“…I can’t do this. Not with you. Robert, you - you don’t fuck a woman you say you love then pretend you didn’t.” You replied, shying away from his touch like he’d burnt you.

“I - I didn’t want to push that on you, not when - when we were…” he trailed off, hands leaving you and instead scrubbing his grimacing face.

“What, when I was your personal prostitute?”

“Don’t say it like that,” he said weakly, but didn’t protest. “I just… I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to think it was just another part of the job.”

“Is it not?” You questioned, watching his expression change and flit through several emotions. “You’re telling me you love me, and you’re asking me to keep being your secretary. Robert, is this not just part of my job?”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he pleaded. “It - you, can be more than that. You are the woman I worship and adore and - and will listen to, no matter what. So don’t leave.”

The words “me behind” did not come out of his mouth, but you felt it, like he etched it on your heart. Your eyes searched his own for even a semblance of fallacy — but it was so terribly real, truthful, that you felt a lump in the back of your throat form.

You pressed your forehead to his own, trying to digest this information: the reveal of his feelings… and the remembrance of your own.

His idealistic talk, his professions of love, his raw, long-suffering pleading made you remember the deep seated, stirring warmth in your heart that you’d beat to death all those years ago.

You remembered the fondness you’d felt for a melancholy man back in Sydney, the man with the demure demeanor, the charming words; the man who you spent a month with, the man who took you on sweet dates, who wormed his way into your life like he belonged there; the man who fucked you slowly and graciously and cherishingly; the man who, at the end, had to go back to America, to the life he never talked about; the man who you wanted to explore a forever relationship with, but had offered you a job instead.

“You love me?” you asked, vulnerability apparent in your tone.

“More than anything in the entire world.”

“Then kiss me.”

And Robert did, his hands sliding down your back to your waist, bringing you closed to him. This kiss was passionate, but patient and sheepish like you’d never kissed one another before. It was a sweet dance, all tongue and no teeth; curling around each other tenderly, desperately, like there was never going to be enough time in the world to express how you felt about each other, because you felt so infinitely.

Your fingers carded through his hair, tugging lightly on his feather-soft locks, and his movements grew eager, gripping your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. “I’ve never wanted anything so badly as I did you,” he mumbled against your neck, pressing hungry kisses on the delicate skin.

“I dreamed of this, in Sydney,” you told him, slipping off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt and dress pants, “I dreamed of forever together.”

He shrugged off the many articles of clothing, then began unzipping the back of your dress without looking, “I dream of us and forever without an end: you are my ever-present thought.”

You paused your movements, looking at him squarely - though not without allowing your dress to fall off your shoulders - and pulling him into another kiss. “How could I ever have been content with just fucking you,” you murmured, more to yourself than him, “when these are the things you say to me?”

Finally, the two of you were reverently tossing and turning on the bed, completely naked and completely feverish, not just in lust, but in dizzying adoration and love for the other. Then, he was on top of you, holding himself up by the arms. His leg slotted between your thighs, your soaking wetness practically dripping onto him, and he could’ve fallen apart right then and there if not for your arm digging into his left bicep kept him grounded in reality.

His hard cock rested against your thigh, and after a moment longer of watching eachother intently, memorizing each and every feature you both had, he spread your legs wide and pressed his fat tip plush against your clit, introducing himself slowly.

“Is this okay?” Robert asked, biting his lip and reveling in how good you took him, even if it was just the head.

You looked at him blearily, barely registering his question, mind already losing itself to the pleasure he was inflicting on your cunt; how, the slower he was with you, the easier it was to completely succumb.

“Yes, fuck,” you ground out, squeezing your eyes shut and sucking him in, his groans growing louder as he pushed the rest of his length in.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you blurted simultaneously to his various noises of pleasure, your fingernails digging deep crescent moon shapes into his back.

“Best cunt I ever fucking had,” he grunted, hands gripping the sheets beside your head for dear life. He stilled for a few moments, letting you get used to his whole length in you — yes, when he’d fucked you all those times before, he was so desperate to come he hadn’t bottomed out his entire length in you, which… had already filled you to the brim.

“M’gonna,” he shuddered, feeling your walls bear down on him suddenly, “gonna move now.”

You nodded breathlessly, arching into his touch as he set a steady pace. He would drive into you slowly, teasingly, almost torturously, before suddenly pulling out, then thrusting into you regularly for a few moments, and finally starting all over again. It would’ve made you mad, if not for how sweetly he was handling you: his hand stroking your forehead shyly, gaze flitting over you like you were the only thing left in the entire world.

Robert leaned down to your bare tits, brushing his wet tongue over your nipples, which had grown sensitive and erect. At his touch, you let out a small squeak, “Oh, Robert,” you keened, rutting your hips up into his own on instinct.

You could feel him smile against your skin, and then, he slipped one of your nipples into his warm mouth, suckling loudly and making you tremble. His tongue devouring your tits, his hips snapping into you, his hands caressing you gently; fuck, you realized, it was all too much, but still just enough.

The way Robert fucked you was absolute perfection, the way he ravished and pleasured your body was heavenly; divine. Sweet moans left your mouth as Robert’s pace grew more frenzied, your sticky cunt making a sick squelching noise whenever he pulled out. You were like a fucking suction; even your pussy knew how delicious Robert’s veiny cock was, and held onto him desperately.

“You’re so beautiful,” Robert sighed, pressing his face into the nook of your neck, inhaling your scent. “Your are the only one for me— fuck— its you, and only you.”

Though your thoughts were growing foggier, only focussing on feeling pleasure, you still had it in you to beam at his words, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him into a close embrace.

“Faster, please, god, I adore you,” you said after letting go, a string of words barely coherent. Still, you thought that even if you’d not said anything at all, Robert would have understood, for he began sliding his cock in and out of you rapidly. His hands found themselves at your hips, and he began pushing you up into him as he slammed down into your cunt.

His thrusts drew breathy moans from your lips, and you could tell how swiftly it affected him, knowing his cock made you shudder and whine like that, writhing beneath him, because he commanded gently for you to: “Look at me,” he said, and you obliged, taking in those sweet, wet blue eyes, lashes fluttering as he blinked. He wanted to look at you, and he wanted you to look at him.

“I’m looking,” you responded, barely able to speak.

“Good,” he said breathily, “I wanna know what you look like when you come.” Then, his cock began pounding into you, not cautiously and delicately, like he had been earlier, but insatiably, unable to think of much else but making the woman he loves orgasm. You could count on one hand how many times Robert made you come, but it seemed that’d be the only thing he’d be thinking about for the foreseeable future: devoting his time to making the odds even.

His words made your insides twist, the knot in your abdomen growing larger; it turned you on much more than you thought it would, for the notion of him coming in you because he wanted to, because he wanted to fill you with his seed and mark you as his, not just because he wanted to release and didn’t have time to clean it up elsewhere. Suddenly, you found yourself knowing the difference between sex with kissing, and just sex.

You hadn’t realized how close you were, steadily building toward an orgasm when your brain has turned off thinking and let you melt completely into the ecstacy, and only really comprehended it when Robert mumbled, “Jesus, you’re so wet, taking me so well,” and his praise sent you off the deep end.

Honestly, you couldn’t describe how it felt. You could, however, do so in comparison to your previous orgasms with Robert. Usually, it would feel good, but like it ended too fast. You’d conveniently orgasm when Robert came in you, and he’d drive out his high in your cunt, then pull out immediately. If you’d had your way, you’d keep him thrusting until you couldn’t take it anymore, wanting to drag out your blissful orgasm as long as possible.

That’s what happened here. The heat that encompassed your body was unfamiliar, but damn well fucking delectable, making your body buck up uncontrollably into his cock. You were high on the pleasure, drunk on his length, and he knew this, still gliding in and out of you. Your climax was like entering a deep pool: it took you over completely, and was a little hard to come out of.

“S’good,” Robert mumbled, not unlike he did earlier that day, but you knew it was different. “Your face look s’fucking gorgeous,” he commented, mind growing fuzzy as he saw your expression change throughout your high.

Your hands found themselves back in his hair, and you tugged him slightly so you could whisper in his ear. “Thank you, Robert,” you spoke warmly, though still panting, “for loving me. For letting me love you.”

You swore you saw light tears well in his eyes, but you couldn’t be sure, because he cocked his head back, neck clenching and his mouth falling open as he released his cream deep into your cunt, flush against your cervix. He let out a low moan as he climaxed, thrusts still coming but considerably slower. It felt like he’d been coming forever when his arms gave out and he finally went limp, falling down beside you.

“You don’t have to thank me,” is what he said first, peering up at you and brushing an eyelash off your cheek. “I’d have loved you no matter what you did.”

Now you felt the waterworks coming. How was it, that through such a strained relationship and broken examples of intimacy, did Robert know how to be so sweet? Or was that just him, just how his thoughts came to him; was it just his instinct and nature that made him so darling?

Weakly, you slip your arms under his, combining the two of you in a sweaty embrace. The room smelt like come and sex, the lights impossibly bright and beaming down on the two of you uncomfortably, but you could deal with it— and everything, so long as you were with Robert.

“If only I knew sooner how cheesy you were, Mr. Fischer.”

“Well, you’ll have the rest of your life to keep finding out… Mrs. Fischer.”

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #inception #robert fischer #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer smut

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mysaintkitten · 2 months

Note

I just read Between Shoots again and I am on my hands and knees BEGGING for more dumbification😭🙏🏻 (as for who, I’m not super picky lol but preferably Cillian, Tommy, Robert, or Crane <<<3)

dumbification is 100% my weakness thank u for requesting this (& it’s been a little while since i’ve written dumbification so I’m a bit rusty but i would love to start writing it more often!)

Mindless | Robert Fischer x fem!reader

prompt: Robert does not take your teasing lightly lol

WARNINGS: SMUT (18+ MDNI) dom!robert, degradation, dumbification, size kink if you squint, brief misogyny, creampie

*not proofread*

“Get inside. Now.” Robert snarled as his nails dug into your arm, shoving you inside entrance of your shared penthouse. Your cheeks burned with excitement and anticipation, you knew Robert was going to punish you, but you weren’t sure if this was going to be a punishment or a ‘punishment.’

“Ow, Robert,” you giggle with a small smirk, partially playing it up for your own entertainment , “you’re hurting me.”

After slamming the door shut and locking it, It was clear that Robert was fuming after you interrupted one of his important meetings with a slew of lewd gestures, which started to become dirtier and dirtier as time went on.

First it was a wink, then it was a subtle grope to one of your tits, followed by sucking one of your fingers into your mouth. While eyeing Robert down, you slowly brought the digit between your legs.

It didn’t take long for Robert’s annoyance and arousal to reach its peak, leading him to call off the meeting early.

“All I ask is for you to sit there and look pretty while I work, is that too fucking difficult for you? Huh?” Roberts asking you rhetorically. You bite your lip, you know it isn’t nice to push his buttons, but he’s just so sexy when he’s angry.

“You looked so handsome up there,” you coo while running your hands along the front of his suit jacket, “I couldn’t help myself.”

His eyes are dark, pooling with anger and desire. With a strong hand he grabs your hips and turns you around, promptly forcing the front of your body against the wall, pushing some air out of your lungs in the process.

“Wanna act like a dumb whore? You’re gonna get treated like one,” Robert decided, purring into your ear as he hurriedly unzipped his trousers, pulling up the end of your skirt as soon as his hard cock was free.

You gasp quietly when you feel his hot member pressed against your ass. You sneak a hand behind you and pull your panties to the side, not caring enough to fully discard them.

With a groan, Robert thrusts his full length inside, causing your mouth to fall open with whiney moan. No matter how many times you took him, he still stretched you out like it was your first time. He barely gave you a second to get used to the sensation before he was snapping his hips out and slamming them back in, his pace and depth already being deliciously intoxicating.

“Fu-uck-“ you whine, reaching behind you to grip Robert’s suit jacket. His balls teasing your clit with each thrust, taunting you with the potential friction.

“Is this what you wanted?” Robert growled into your ear, his strong hands gripping your hips painfully tight as he fucked you harshly against the wall. “Pretty little thing just wants to be daddy’s come dump, huh?”

Your eyes rolled back and you mewled in response, your back involuntarily arching towards him while standing on your tiptoes. The sensation of him forcing his thick cock inside you left you speechless and you could feel your brain becoming cloudier.

“What a filthy whore,” He teased, nipping at the shell of your ear and sending a chill down your spine, “disrupts my important meetings just so I’ll pay attention to her needy fuckin’ cunt.”

You swallowed and huffed out a shaky breath, your body becoming far too overwhelmed with the pleasure that robert was giving to you. He dips his head down to watch his cock slam into you, and to see your ass recoil with each hypnotic thrust.

“F-fuck,” you pant again while your legs shake and nearly give out from beneath you. As Robert’s pounding into you, your feet are barely on the ground, he’s holding your hips up and slamming into you like you’re nothing more than a warm hole for him to use.

Robert laughed weakly, he can see every single rational thought slip out of your head as he pounds into you, he’ll never get sick of watching you get cock drunk. You choke out a moan, twitching as your core clenches around him.

“Hm,” Robert hums as he snakes a hand down the front of your body, gently circling your clit with the tip of his middle finger while his member tears into you. “So well behaved once she’s got a cock in her, you like being treated like a dumb little toy, baby?”

The degradation made your stomach burn with an added layer of eroticism, a needy whimper falling from your lips as your pussy got wetter around him. All that could be heard around you was panting and skin slapping skin, mixed in with some filthy little comments.

Robert moaned when he felt you get slicker around him, unintentionally showing him how much you liked this rough and demeaning treatment. You felt the knot in your stomach begin to wind up tighter and tighter and you knew it won’t take much more to push you over.

You try to respond to his comments, only for a few incoherent babbles to come out. Robert only clicks his tongue at your attempts, poorly feigning sympathy.

He holds his hips still, forcing his entire length painfully deep inside you. It’s nearly too much, but addictive fullness of his cock leaves you needing more.

“Look at that,” he cooes, roughly grabbing your cheeks and cranking your neck to get a better look at your face while still rubbing your clit. His dick twitches at your smeared lipstick and smudged mascara, he’s always thought you looked prettier like that anyway. “Ruined by my cock already, poor thing can barely think. ‘S alright, baby, you don’t gotta think. Daddy knows best, right?”

You swallow harshly before whimpering, “y-yes mmh …”followed by a few curses and pants, Robert slowly begins to thrust himself in and out again.

“That’s right, daddy knows you’ve got no thoughts in that pretty head, all you care about is getting this wet little pussy stuffed. Don’t care how, or when, just need to be full, don’t you?”

You nod as best you can while he’s still grabbing your cheeks, his other hand sliding up from your clit back to your hip. He releases his grip on your cheeks and smacks your ass, your brain and body turning into putty all for him. He owns you entirely, mind, body, and soul. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I bet you’d let me use you in front of my colleagues,” Robert hissed, the thought of ruining you in front of his peers brought him closer to his already approaching orgasm. “Bend you over the table, show them what a brainless little cockslut you are. Maybe I’d even let them take turns on you, would you do that for me baby? Let them use whichever holes they’d like?”

You knew this was purely hypothetical, Robert was far too possessive to let anyone else actually touch you. But the idea still got you hot, being passed around like a cheap whore all for Robert’s enjoyment.

“Y-yes, yes!” You cry out as you arch your back again, you and him both know that you’re mere moments away from your orgasm. He laughs thinly, he knew you got off on this but he didn’t know it was to this degree.

“That’s what I love about you, sweetheart. Pretty face ‘n pretty pussy, no fuckin’ brain. How all good girls should be.”

That was all it took, a bit of praise sprinkled in a mix of ignominy. With a broken sob, you came for him, your wetness spilling down onto his balls and undoubtedly staining the expensive material of his trousers. He groans out a few praises while thrusting into you, his own climax trailing close behind.

“Thats it, baby, fuck-“ Robert groans as he tips his head back and screws his eyes shut, your pulsing core just begging him for his come. With a few more pumps, he’s spilling into you, huffing and growling as your velvety walls milk him dry.

Once he starts to go soft, he begins to pull himself out, you wince quietly and Robert shushes you before spreading your lips apart with his fingers. With attentive eyes he watches your ruined hole drool and clench around nothing.

He brings his eyes back up to your face and sees your reaction as he smacks your ass, “next time you pull some shit like that during a meeting, I’m fucking you right then and there, got it?”

Through heavy lids, you smile back at him before nodding weakly, already getting ideas for what you’ll do at his next meeting.

—

sorry this isn’t very long </3 i really reaaaaally want to get back into writing, i think i’m going to write something a bit fluffy/angsty next. we’ll see!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #robert fischer #robert fischer x reader #hope y’all like this #:)

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lady-arryn · 11 months

Photo

Cillian Murphy as Robert Fischer INCEPTION (2010) dir. Christopher Nolan

#filmedit #inceptionedit #cmurphyedit #cillianmurphyedit #dilfgifs #mancandykings #dailyflicks #cinematv #inception #robert fischer #cillian murphy #**#*gif #*inception #*cillian

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coppoladelrey · 7 months

Text

CILLIAN MURPHY as Robert Fischer in Inception (2010) | dir. Christopher Nolan

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luluartpop · 3 months

Text

Cillian Murphy in bed 🛏️🩷

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy young #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #jonathan crane #long hair #oppenheimer #man in suit #photoshoot #robert fischer

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ssweetleaf · 3 months

Text

headup.

summary: robbie fucks you in front of a mirror and makes you see just how pathetic you become when you’re with him.

robert fischer x fem!reader

includes: SMUT 18+, mirror sex, condescending!rob, degradation/praise, unprotected p in v (please use protection in real life), size kink in a hung robert typa way, daddy kink (sorry)

a/n: pleasepleasepleaseplease send me asks, my inbox is open! <3

˖ ࣪⭑

Big palms were kneading at your thighs, keeping them spread open, wide enough so you could see yourself, and him— watching through the oval mirror of your vanity, chair barely accepting the both of you at once, you on top and him below, though you knew where the dominance was held.

His coos were sickly sweet, honeyed and warm, sponging against the shell of your ear when he spoke, the quick flick of his tongue sending shivers down your spine.

“Look at you,” he hummed, a little chuckle punctuating his speech while he raised a hand to keep your gaze on yourself, strong and heavy, not letting it flick elsewhere. “already fucked out— pussy’s just droolin’ f’me, isn’t she?”

You’re eyes were hooded, glazed over and completely glassy, tears ebbing at the constant jabs to your sweet spot— and you watched, so transfixed on the way his cock rutted into you, even from the awkward position and you could see the obscene little dribbles that squelched out around his cock and pooled onto the chair, your slick dripping, getting wetter and wetter with each inward thrust.

“Now you can see what I see, honey—” he spoke, so condescending it had you clenching hard. “See how pretty and pathetic you get when daddy’s got his cock in you.”

You whined, clutching at the sides of his thighs, nails clawing and dragging crimson lines while he fucked into you.

“‘Cause you’re a daddy’s girl, ain’t ya, honey? All f’me and no one else.”

You nodded, babbling little hints of RobbieRobbieRobbie and Ohdaddyplease quick when it left your lips, leaving you breathless and panting when he grinned and chuckled at how inebriated you were from his pretty cock.

It was so big, stretching you open and splitting you in half, you could see the way your pussy accommodated him, stretching around him, thankfully your wetness made it easier to slide in, soaked and saturated, slick enough to have very little resistance and he’d cooed at you once he got all the way in- balls deep.

“Takin’ it like a fuckin’ champ.” He moaned, mouthing at your neck and puckering his lips around any piece of skin he could find, suckling it between his lips and pulling away with a lewd ‘pop’. “My girl deserves a gold medal, hm? This sweet little pussy does too.”

Your cheeks were searing, warming from his filthy words, tucking your chin against your chest, bashful and vulnerable with his gaze always on you.

“Nuh uh—” he scolded, brows furrowed and stern, grabbing at your cheeks and squeezing, easing you to look back at your reflection and watch your lips jut out into a forced pout. “Don’t get all shy on me now, baby— m’balls deep and you wanna act like a little prude?”

Your gaze jutted down to the thick ring of arousal that soaked the base of his cock, coating the course hair that littered there too— you were creaming him.

“That’s not how it works, honey, I know how much you wan’ it.”

#robert fischer imagine #robert fischer blurb #robert fischer smut #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer #cillian murphy blurb #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #inception x reader #inception smut

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slut4thebroken · 2 months

Text

Party Favor

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Robert Fischer x reader (college au)

Summary | After you get too drunk at a party, Robert takes you upstairs to “lay down.”

Warnings | Smut, non con, drunk sex, misogyny, degradation, non con filming, anal fingering, object insertion, humiliation, he’s a horrible person lowkey, breeding, come feeding.

Words | 1.8 k

Notes | Guys I’m so excited for this lol (and yes, this was inspired by a video on nsfw twitter💀) (Also ty @hllywdwhre for all your help!)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“God- you’re so pretty. Has anyone ever told you that before?” You asked, words slurred as your body swayed into him.

“Pretty? No..” He chuckled, making you frown.

“Well it’s true.” You said definitively. “Your hair is pretty,” he grabbed your wrists and pulled them away when you reached for his perfectly styled hair, “your eyes are pretty… your lips are pretty.” You giggled, brushing your fingers over his lips.

“Okay,” He laughed, almost uncomfortably, “drink some more.” You didn’t protest when he handed you the bottle of vodka, watching you take a large swig.

“Mm… god, I love looking at you.” You groaned, staring up at him with glassy eyes.

“You don’t handle alcohol very well, do you?” He asked amusedly, having to wrap an arm around your waist when you swayed again and almost lost your balance. “Okay.. You should lay down.” He decided, taking the bottle from you. As he led you over to the staircase, he passed a handful of people, only some of which actually looked at you. Most of those people were guys giving encouraging jeers, some were girls staring at you with either jealousy or contempt.

He brought you into a room and closed the door, then laid you down on the bed before laying down next to you, keeping a safe distance for now. You turned on your side to face him and he tried to keep his face neutral and not show his annoyance when he realized you were about to talk.

“Y’know, sometimes you’re kind of a dick-” Your words were cut off by a hiccup and he raised his brows, waiting for you to finish. “You’re a dick… but sometimes you’re tolerable to be around. Like right now.” You smiled, making him roll his eyes.

“Drink some more.” He handed you the bottle again, hoping that if you got drunk enough, you’d stop talking for once. You brought it up to your lips and downed more of the liquid, barely even reacting to the taste anymore. When your eyes fluttered closed and you brought the bottle back down, he got up and walked to the foot of the bed, then grabbed your ankles and pulled you to the edge, startling you.

“Robert?”

“Shh… Just keep drinking.” He wrapped your legs around his hips, then pushed your skirt up, making you whine quietly and reach a hand down to weakly push him away. He ignored you though and opened his pants to free his cock, then pulled your panties to the side and lined up. When he finally forced it in, a pained moan escaped you as he groaned quietly.

“Robert…” You whined, trying to push him away again. In response, he leaned over you and grabbed the bottle, then lifted it to your lips and helped you drink more of it. He started fucking you slowly, making you whimper and squirm under him, trying uselessly to get away. Your walls were fluttering around his cock as you struggled to adjust to his size and he moaned quietly every time you tightened up.

You pushed the bottle away so he let go and left it leaning upright against your arm as he lifted himself back up. Holding the tops of your thighs, he started bucking into you a little faster and you cried out as your back arched off the bed. If you were trying to convince him you didn’t want it… you were doing a shit job.

“Robert..” You whined, eyes barely able to stay open. He ignored you and used one hand to push your shirt up, exposing your tits. Even though putting up with you all night was one of the most annoying things he’s ever done, it was definitely worth it. Your pussy felt brand new and your tits were bouncing with each thrust, turning him on even more.

When your eyes fluttered shut, he pulled out his phone and started recording, getting your whole body in frame for a few seconds before moving closer to your hips. He bit his lip to stifle a groan at the way your walls looked stretched to the brim around his cock. When you let out a quiet noise, he saw that you were trying to open your eyes again. So he used his free hand to grab the bottle and bring it back to your lips, making you drink some more.

You let out a muffled sound and weakly pushed the bottle away, but he kept it there for a few more seconds, forcing more of the alcohol into your mouth for you to drink. Once it was pretty much empty, he lifted the bottle and downed the rest of it, then tossed it on the bed.

Even though your eyes were closed and your head was lolled to the side, you were still whimpering and moaning, especially when he grabbed the top of your thigh again and started fucking you harder and faster. Your cunt was leaking so much that it was making wet sounds with each thrust and he moved his phone closer to show his cock glistening with your arousal.

Your sounds were completely incoherent and he could tell you were trying to say something, but the words were too slurred to make anything out. So he leaned over you and shoved two fingers in your mouth, making you choke instantly. He wanted to warn you not to puke on his hand, but he wasn’t sure what he was going to use this video for yet, so he stayed silent. You brought a hand up to grab his wrist, but could barely even try to pull his fingers out of your mouth.

When he got tired of that, he removed his fingers and slapped your tits a few times, making you flinch and let out a startled moan with each hit. After another beat, he stepped back and pulled out. Your legs fell open as if your body was completely limp, but he ignored it and turned off the camera, then set his phone down to move you into the position he wanted.

“Fuck, you’re heavy.” He scoffed, flipping your dead weight onto your stomach, then lifting your hips until you were on your knees. He got on the bed behind you and resumed filming as he pushed his cock back in. Your sounds were more muffled like this at least, even as he slapped and groped your ass. His thrusts never faltered as he pulled you open a little and spat on your rim, then used his thumb to drag the saliva up to your asshole. The second he pushed his thumb in, you were whining and trying to move away, making him flatten his hand on your ass and pull you back into position.

He brought the camera closer for a good view of both holes, almost moaning at how your cunt was visibly puffy and red now. When he started fucking his thumb in and out, you blindly reached a hand back with the intention of pushing him away, but it dropped onto the bed before you could reach him. He moved the camera back again for a full view of your body, videoing the recoil of your ass after every thrust and the arch of your back that was unintentionally pushing your hips toward him, making you look even more desperate for it.

Almost laughing when he got this idea, he removed his thumb and grabbed the bottle again, positioning the rim to your asshole and slowly forcing it in. You whined loudly in displeasure and tried reaching a hand back to push him away again. His hips slowed into a steady rocking motion as he fucked your ass with the bottle. Far too soon for your liking, he started moving it faster, rapidly fucking your ass until you were crying out and trying to squirm away. He let go of it to grab your hip and pull you back, and had to bite his lip to stifle a laugh at the sight of the bottle sticking out of your asshole.

Instead of fucking you with it again, he just smacked the bottom of the bottle a few times, forcing it in deeper until the neck was completely inside. He almost wanted to push it in further, stretch you past your limit, but based on the sounds you were making, it seemed like you were already at your limit, so he held off.

Grabbing your hip again, he started rapidly bucking into you, chasing his orgasm and enjoying the feel of the bottle pushing against his cock inside you. You were letting out quiet grunts with every rough thrust and the slapping of his hips against your ass was so loud that anyone who walked by the room would definitely know what was happening. He hoped no one would come in since this door doesn’t lock, but at the same time… he can’t even imagine the look they’d have when they saw you being fucked face down, ass up with an empty bottle of vodka in your asshole. Your reputation would probably be shot to hell depending on who saw it.

He choked out a moan as his hips stuttered, only seconds away from falling over the edge. When his orgasm finally washed over him, he pushed in so deep that your back was bent in a way that had to have been painful, especially based on the sound you made. His hips kept bucking forward, trying to bury his cock deeper as rope after rope of his come painted your walls. He doesn’t even know if you’re on birth control or not.

When his orgasm finally faded, he let out a heavy breath and closed his eyes for a moment, collecting himself. You whined when he pulled the bottle out of your ass, then again when he dragged his cock out and sat back on his heels. He set the bottle down and grabbed your ass cheek to spread you open, getting a close up shot of your gaping hole fluttering around nothing.

The moment his come started to trickle out, he picked up the bottle and collected as much as he could on the rim, then nudged your hips, making you land on your side. Your lips were already parted so he just shoved the bottle in your mouth, feeding you his come. You grimaced a little at the taste, but didn’t react any other way besides that. Even when he let go of the bottle, you just stayed there with your lips wrapped loosely around it and your eyes shut, probably on the verge of unconsciousness now that he was done.

He panned his phone down your body slowly, making sure to get his come dribbling out of your mouth around the bottle, your shirt still pushed up exposing your tits, and your skirt lifted with your panties still pulled to the side. The sight of his come still leaking out of your cunt had his cock twitching with need again, but he ignored it and pocketed his phone before fixing his clothes and walking to the door. He gave you one last look before opening it and walking out, leaving it open in case anyone wanted his sloppy seconds.

#robert fischer x reader #robert fischer smut #robert fischer #inception #cillian murphy

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scarecrowismybabygirl · 2 years

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I just want to see pretty men crying, or bleeding, or both.

#This post is about every character ever played by Cillian Murphy #jonathan crane #tommy shelby #robert fischer #jackson rippner #peaky blinders #the delinquent season #batman begins #inception #watching the detectives #28 days later #oppenheimer #cillian murphy

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kiss-me-cill-me · 4 months

Text

Follow Me Down

Pairing: Robert Fischer x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Dealing with Robert's advances feels like a full time job in itself. When he finally pushes you past your breaking point at a company party, you decide that it's time to teach him a lesson.

Warnings: Smut, hate sex, semi-public sex, mean reader, pushy/bratty Robert, kind of switch!Robert, S&M themes, oral (f receiving), face sitting, high heel kink, spit kink, choking, non-consensual creampie, name calling (including one use of "bitch"), workplace harassment, degradation, misogyny, mentions of drinking/alcohol, reader insults Robert by suggesting that he would spike her drink (but it does not actually happen)

A/N: Are New Year's Eve fics a thing? If not, they should be haha. I love New Year's Eve, so as a little early present, please enjoy this piece of absolute filth. Title was inspired by George Taylor's song Come Follow Me Down, which I listened to on repeat while writing the smut portion of this. Thank you for reading, and I'm wishing you all a great start to 2024!

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Robert Fischer was the kind of man who had everything handed to him in life, and it showed. He was petulant, unserious, and thoughtless. Or at least, mostly thoughtless; he did possess the very annoying ability to badger the living hell out of someone in order to get what he wanted. And tonight, as was so unfortunately often the case, the focus of his one-track mind was you.

He was trailing after you now, either oblivious to or willfully ignorant of the look of annoyance plastered over your face as you tried to lose him. He barely had to hurry to keep up.

“Don’t be shy asking for my help with closing that big merger if you need it,” he told you.

You grimaced. You knew how to do your job.

“Robert, let’s not talk about work while we’re off the clock,” you said shortly, trying to make your voice as sweet as possible so that he wouldn’t have an excuse to comment on your tone.

You were at the company’s New Year’s Eve party. Ostensibly, this was the last of (too many) excuses littered throughout the year for the big wig executives to drink expensive booze and make fools of themselves on the company dime. And, annoyingly, it was also yet another opportunity for Fischer to try and sleep with you.

“Okay. Let me get you a drink then,” he offered.

You decided you were done being sweet. You stopped and turned on your heel to face him.

“I wouldn’t leave you alone with my drink for two seconds, much less accept one you’d gotten your grubby little mitts on,” you hissed.

Robert made no indication that he understood what you were insinuating. Instead, he rested a hand on your waist, tugging you just a bit closer to him.

“Then I’ll escort you to the bar,” he said. “And I’ll even keep my hands on you, so you’ll know that I haven’t touched your drink.”

He was disgusting.

“Why don’t you escort yourself?” you shot back, shaking out of his grip.

You were abstaining from drinks tonight, wanting to keep your wits about you just in case Robert tried to get too handsy. Or, handsier than he usually was. This was a fairly frequent occurrence, and although you were used to it, it still pissed you off. Robert was nothing you couldn’t handle, but the arrogant rich boy attitude got old quick. It annoyed you that you couldn’t say anything without risking the job you had worked so hard for. Unlike him, you hadn’t been born into a world that put you automatically on a pedestal. On the contrary, it often felt like people were trying to kick you off the ledge.

Robert was walking behind you again, thankfully keeping his hands to himself even as he hovered at your heels, and you walked deeper into the party. All around you, drunken coworkers reveled and laughed. There was only about one hour left in the year, and by god the company was going to spend it drinking enough champagne to kill an elephant.

“Come on,” Robert called behind you, still trailing. “Don’t you know how to take a joke?”

You ignored him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. As you wove your way through the crowd, one of the higher-ups signaled to you.

You jumped at the opportunity, hoping that Robert would at least have the common decency to leave you be while you were talking to a man who was essentially your boss. But of course, rules and manners didn’t apply to Robert Fischer like they would to anyone else. As you talked with the executive about mergers and acquisitions, Robert stood directly behind you. Practically breathing down your neck. You had to bite your tongue when he placed a hand on the small of your back again. What the hell did he think he was doing?

After a few minutes, the higher-up - slightly intoxicated - excused himself and wandered off, leaving you alone again with the man who was quickly becoming the bane of your existence.

“Robert-” you started to bark.

“God, you’re sexy when you talk business,” Robert interrupted.

You were facing him again, his arm still wrapped around you possessively. You caught a whiff of bourbon on his breath. He certainly wasn’t drunk, but the alcohol had clearly loosened his tongue. Usually he wasn’t this forward. You frowned.

“And you’re an unprofessional prick.”

Your outburst almost seemed to shock you more than it did Robert. His expression never faltered, except to allow a small smirk to spread across his lips.

“Sweetheart, don’t flatter me like that,” he teased. “A pretty girl like you could give a guy like me ideas.”

He raised his eyebrows at you as he said “ideas,” lowering his voice a bit. You got the message.

“I’m sorry if I was unclear,” you said, trying not to speak through clenched teeth. “But the only idea I want to give you is to leave me the hell alone.”

Robert put his hands up, pretending to look wounded. Or maybe he was going for shocked. As if you hadn’t made it abundantly clear already just how uninterested you were. He took a step back, to your relief.

“Okay, I can see you need some time to cool off,” he relented. Finally, you were getting somewhere. “But can you really blame me for getting mixed signals?”

You had no idea what Robert was talking about, until he started pointing above him. Your eyes trailed up, and you saw for the first time a little sprig of mistletoe, hanging in the hallway. A leftover from the company’s Christmas decorations. Of all the places you could have been standing… When you looked back at Robert, your mouth was a thin line.

“What are you, twelve?” you asked.

He just smiled.

“Christmas is over, Robert,” you said coldly.

As you started to walk away, he called after you.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying!”

Fischer was right about one thing - you did need some time to cool off. Being around him made your skin crawl. It made you feel like you needed a shower and a guzzle of holy water, just to exorcize any lingering traces of him from your system. A gin and tonic would probably have at least some of the same effects. And you were craving one, but you reminded yourself that you needed to stay sharp. Robert had left you alone for now, but it was only a matter of time before he would be back. You settled for just the tonic.

Rubbing your head as you walked through the party, horribly bitter drink in hand, you wondered why you had even bothered to come. So much of what you did was for the sake of appearances. Anything to claw your way ahead. Though of course, even you had limits. Sleeping with Fischer would, ironically, probably end in a boon to your career. But you definitely weren’t about to let yourself sink to that level.

You looked down at your gin-less tonic, twist of lime bobbing lazily in the bubbles. Why were you even drinking this? It certainly wasn’t for the taste. You dumped the rest of your drink in a potted plant, and set the empty glass down on a table.

This party was a total drag. But, you figured, at least you wouldn’t have to go far to find a little solitude. One of the benefits of working for an insanely wealthy company like Fischer Morrow was that even mid-level employees like you got extravagant offices. Your high heels clicked against the tile as you strode off, eager to leave the maddening din - and Robert Fischer - behind.

You reached your office door, and instantly knew that something was off. Behind the frosted windows, you could tell that the lights were on. The party was on the floor below yours; there should have been nobody up here, much less in your private office. Maybe it was just one of the cleaners, working late. Well, no problem. They would be easy enough to get rid of, and then you could regroup and prepare yourself for the remainder of a night full of fending off Robert’s advances. You pushed open the door.

Really, you should have seen this coming. Of course it wasn’t going to be this easy to get rid of him.

“Robert,” you sighed. You took in the sight of him, sitting in your swivel chair and looking very pleased with himself. “Do I really have to ask you to get out of my office?”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” he taunted, effortlessly throwing your own words back at you. He winked, and you narrowed your eyes.

You walked over to your desk, large and shiny with a stained walnut finish. It was an expensive piece of furniture, and one that Robert somehow managed to look right at home sitting behind. As if he owned the place. Which was closer to the truth than you particularly liked to think about.

“Why do you enjoy doing this?” you asked, not expecting a real answer.

“I just like getting a rise out of you,” Robert said.

It sounded strangely honest. You leaned over your desk, staring down at him. Trying to size him up.

“You’re very mean when you want to be,” Robert continued, almost observationally.

You weren’t sure where he was going with this. Sure, you could be mean. It was part of the reason why you’d achieved the position you were in now; you didn’t advance in business by being a pushover.

Robert, you noticed, was currently staring down the front of your dress. You scrambled to stand up, and crossed your arms over your chest. The little pervert wasn’t even trying to hide it. You circled the desk, coming to rest on the side where Robert still sat, watching you calmly. You silently willed him to get out of your chair; to leave your office and give you twenty seconds of peace. He didn’t, of course, and so you took a seat on the desk, crossing your legs and tapping one foot in the air.

“So, what? Do you get off on me being mean to you or something?” you pressed.

Robert shrugged, neither confirming nor denying. For some reason, that infuriated you even more. You hated his smug face; that little smirk he was wearing right now that meant he was getting what he wanted. You had the sudden urge to slap him. Maybe that would teach him a lesson.

“And what about you?” Robert asked. “What do you get out of this?”

“Me?!” You were incredulous. “Christ. What could I possibly be getting out of putting up with you constantly bothering me?”

Robert shrugged again, and your desire to slap him grew.

“Maybe you get off on it too,” he guessed. “Being mean, that is.”

“You think I get off on doing this?” you scoffed. “Do you ever think about anything besides sex?”

“You’re the one who brought up getting off; not me.”

You were really going to lose it. You could barely see Fischer sitting in front of you now for all of the angry red that was swirling through your vision. He thought he could walk in here, sit at your desk, and then tell you you got off on being mean to him? He didn’t know how mean you could be.

“What’s your end goal with all this, Robert? You really think you’re gonna get to live out whatever twisted fantasy you’ve made me a part of in that sick little head of yours?”

“Maybe,” Robert said nonchalantly. You could feel him undressing you with his eyes.

“Yeah? What are you hoping to do to me?” you prodded. You didn’t care what you were saying anymore; you were way past the point of professionalism. “Probably tie me up and watch me try to fight you off, right?”

Robert looked up at you very calmly, holding your angry gaze as he answered you.

“I’d rather have you step on me with those heels,” he said.

You were taken aback.

“Excuse me?”

“I said: I want you to step on me with those slutty little stilettos you keep waving in my face,” he repeated.

You froze. One foot was braced against the drawers of your desk, and the other was poised in the air, hovering just in front of Robert’s knee as he sat in your chair.

“What’s the matter?” Robert asked. “I warned you you’d give a guy like me ideas, didn’t I?”

Part of you was in shock. This was not how you had expected this interaction to go. But another part of you - a corner of your mind that you didn’t even want to acknowledge - really was turned on by the idea of putting him in his place. You grinned.

“What makes you think I’d do that for you?” you hummed, mocking him.

Before he had a chance to respond, you lifted your foot and pressed the sharp point of your heel against the fleshy part of Robert’s shoulder. His expensive suit jacket started to crease. You pushed your heel in a little more, pushing him back just an inch.

Robert’s eyes started to wander, trying to sneak a look under your dress as you sat in front of him, your leg lifted up to press into his shoulder.

“You’re a pig,” you told him, shifting your foot so that it was in the middle of his chest.

The new angle made it a little harder for him to get a peek, with your legs more pressed together. Robert’s eyes drifted back to your face, a look of restrained amusement dancing across his own features. He was trying to play it cool, but you noticed the way his fingers dug into the chair’s leather armrests.

“Just another pretty boy in a suit,” you continued, inching the toe of your shoe up toward his collar.

The point of your heel was right over his sternum, and Robert started to smile. He really was enjoying this, and the realization both repulsed and aroused you.

“Think you can take whatever you want. You need to be put in your place.”

You pushed back with your foot, making Robert’s chair roll a few inches so that you had space to stand up between him and the desk. You planted one foot on the floor, and the other directly over his crotch, pressing in with the dull toe of your shoe. The point of your heel rested on the chair in front of him, between his slightly parted legs. You weren’t trying to impale the poor man, but the devious look that Robert fixed on you as you towered over him almost made it look like he would have preferred if you did.

“Told you y’get off on being mean,” he teased.

You grabbed hold of his tie and pulled his face closer to yours as you looked down at him.

“Robert, if you think this is what a woman looks like when she gets off, I have some very bad news for you. Why don’t you show me what that pretty mouth is good for?”

You pushed away from him, climbing back up on the desk and spreading your legs. The tight black dress you wore rode up your thighs, and Robert instantly dropped to his knees in front of you. He hooked a finger into the crotch of your panties, using it to drag them to the side until you were on display for him.

“You can deny all you want,” he mocked, “but you wouldn’t be this wet if you really didn’t enjoy it.”

“Jesus. Stop talking,” you ordered.

You shoved his face between your legs, and his tongue eagerly came out to lick at you. You were wet - there really wasn’t any denying it - but you didn’t need him pointing out that fact as if he weren’t the one desperately lapping at your cunt. Robert was the pathetic one here; you were really just going along with things to teach him a lesson. If he wanted you to walk all over him, you would make sure he regretted ever crossing paths with you. And if you happened to get off while doing it - well, you'd just chalk that down as some much-needed stress relief. Dealing with Robert was exhausting.

You hooked your legs over his arms, pinning him in place as he balanced himself against the desk. As much as you hated to admit it, he was good at this. Very good. His tongue was lavishing you; his blue eyes never breaking contact with yours as he ate you out. The way he was looking up at you felt dirty and yet dangerously addicting, all at the same time. Your hand tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer as your breath hissed through your teeth. Abruptly, you pulled him away.

“Get on the desk,” you commanded, a little out of breath.

Robert stood up, wiped his smug face, and started to climb up onto the desk.

“On your back.”

He laid down, swinging his feet up so that he was fully spread out across the hard surface. You reached up under your dress to remove your panties. Having him hold them to the side was only getting in the way.

You carefully got up on the desk with him, knees resting on either side of his face.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you scoffed, half for your own benefit.

“Think of it this way,” Robert smirked beneath you. “Isn’t it gonna make you happy to wipe this smile off my face?”

“I thought I told you to shut up.”

You sat down, putting almost your full weight on his face. Robert reached up to grab hold of your thighs, supporting you, and you were actually grateful for it even though it gave him an opportunity to grope at your ass. Your legs were getting weaker every second, and you could feel yourself tipping over the edge.

Part of the thrill was from being in such a compromising position. Before, if someone had walked in, there was a chance that Robert could stand up and you would be able to smooth down your dress in time to avoid getting caught. But now… well, riding a man’s face as he was splayed out on the desk beneath you was a little harder to recover from, logistically.

You ground your hips down, so tantalizingly close to coating his face in your release. Robert seemed to sense your urgency, and dug his fingers into your flesh, practically begging for it. His tongue dragged roughly across your clit, sucking with just the right pressure.

Your mouth hung open as you came, at first frozen in a silent scream and then moaning, sinfully, as an orgasm rolled over you. You seemed to shake from your shoulders down into your knees, and Robert’s tongue lapped up all of your arousal. He pressed his lips to your clit one final time as you slid off of him.

When your hips were straddling his, Robert sat up to hold you. His hands were hungry, grabbing at your waist as he tried to pull you closer and into a kiss.

“No kissing,” you choked out, putting a hand on his chest to stop him.

Robert didn't try to push past you, just paused and looked up at you with light, teasing eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart. It's New Year's Eve. You're not gonna give me a kiss at midnight?”

You swallowed, not trusting your shaky voice to respond without giving him more fuel to taunt you with. He didn't need it.

“Even after you already let me wrap my lips around your pretty cunt?”

Your hand on his chest pressed down, pushing him back onto the hard wood. Robert smiled again, proud of himself for getting to you. He really did know how to wind you up.

“You’re such a typical rich boy,” you spat. “So used to getting anything you ask for.”

“Usually I don’t even have to ask,” Robert corrected.

“Right. Other women just throw themselves at you?” You felt your hatred flare.

He gave you that knowing look again, but kept his smirking mouth shut. You noticed the way your arousal still glistened against his lips. The whole lower half of his face, actually, was drenched, and the sight of it sent a pang of renewed desire all through you.

Suddenly, Robert’s grip tightened at your waist. He bunched up the fabric of your dress, exposing you a little more, and forced you down onto his leg.

“Use me to get yourself off.”

Already impatient, his hands had started to pull at your hips, making you rock back and forth. The cloth of his suit pants brushed roughly against your exposed clit, still sensitive from his earlier treatment. But still, it felt good. Too good.

“Robert-”

You had opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off.

“Mm, say my name, baby.”

He was so full of himself. Something snapped in you, and your hand flew up to his neck. As your grip tightened, Robert only threw his head back.

“Honestly, do you ever shut up?” you spat.

Despite yourself, your hips started to stutter against him, desperate to rub harder as the pressure started to build in you again. For whatever reason, you found yourself going along with Robert’s demands once more. Your hand on his neck squeezed.

“You really do get everything you want,” you hissed, teeth clenching against the ache that was rapidly growing between your legs.

“Not true,” Robert choked out beneath you. His voice was straining from your grip, but you could still hear the hint of satisfaction. “I haven’t gotten to stick it in you yet.”

Your walls clenched around nothing, and you hated how his words could affect you. You angrily took it out on him, pressing the hand on his neck down even harder. Robert hissed out through his teeth, then dissolved into a rough cry of pleasure.

“Fuck," you gasped.

Your grip loosened, suddenly, as a wave of ecstasy came crashing over you for the second time. It was unexpected and fast, taking you by such surprise that you fell forward on the desk a little, caging Robert’s face with your arms. Your stomach churned with embarrassment as the feeling faded, and you realized that just the sound of his voice had been enough to push you over the edge.

You looked down, and saw Robert’s eyes full of mirth. His face was flushed, blood rushing back now that your hand was off him. A few strands of hair stood out of place against his forehead. Honestly, he was a mess; clothes all wrinkled and normally-neat red tie knocked askew. You could feel yourself dripping. His very expensive suit pants were probably ruined. Although, that was really his problem.

“Tell me again how you don’t get off on being mean?” Robert rasped below you.

You were panting, and clearly in no position to answer him. But even if you had been able to speak, you certainly weren’t about to tell him that it had been his animalistic moan that really made you come. Robert started to sit up a little, keeping one arm around your waist.

“You hate me so much.” Robert’s voice was still slightly hoarse, but there was that tone of amusement, as usual.

“Poor little rich boy.”

It was all you could think to say, still trying to recover from two orgasms back to back. Robert gave you a look that was almost pitying.

“When are you gonna admit that you’re just jealous?” Robert purred.

You gave him a look of disgust, hoping your scowl would communicate everything that you couldn’t verbalize. Your head was still reeling, dizzy from the rush.

“You think you’re better than everyone else just because you have to scramble to get ahead? Please. You wish you had it as easy as me.” Robert’s hands came up to grasp at your wrists, holding you in place as he brought his lips close to yours. “But lucky for me, you’re not above sleeping your way to the top.”

Is that really what he thought this was? No. That wasn’t the reason for this. Inch by inch, Robert was bringing his lips closer to you. This bastard, thinking he understood you. Infuriated, you did the only thing you could think to do, and spit on him.

He stopped, but didn’t look particularly surprised. The trail of spit started to drip down his face, mixing on his cheek with the leftover sheen of your arousal. Calmly, Robert brought a hand up to his face and wiped off the efforts of your rebellion.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you, sweetheart.”

In the next instant, Robert’s hands were at his belt, nimble fingers working the buckle. You noticed for the first time how painfully stretched his pants were. He had to be in agony. But, you thought bitterly, that was probably exactly how he wanted it.

“Here - why don’t you spit on my cock?” he goaded, pulling himself out of his briefs.

Your eyes blew wide at the sight of him. That certainly explained the amount of confidence he had. You struggled to shoot back a response.

“In your dreams,” you muttered.

“Don’t be like that,” Robert chided, pouting a little bit.

As much as he liked to act, you could tell that he wasn’t really hurt. Someone as arrogant as Robert Fischer could never be truly bothered by anything. This was merely an inconvenience. He pinched your cheeks between his rough fingers, forcing you to look down at his dick with your mouth open. A long, wet rope of saliva fell from your lips.

“There, was that so hard?”

Robert’s pinching hand left your face as he brought it down to rub at his length, hastily working your spit over himself.

“This is for your benefit anyway,” he winked. “Don’t want it to hurt you too much.”

You watched, almost mesmerized, as he pumped himself a few more times. Satisfied, he stood up, taking you with him. Standing in your heels, you were almost as tall as him, and he looked directly into your eyes.

“Now, do you want me to fuck you over the desk, or up against the wall?”

You almost couldn’t believe his audacity. You glared at him, a heavy, electrical silence hanging between you.

“Tick-tock, sweetheart.”

“Go to hell, Robert,” you answered.

“Well, then I guess we’re doing what I want.” He smiled. “How ironic.”

He lifted you up in one swift motion, and then your back was against the wall. The head of his cock was pressing into you, and the stretch was almost painful.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he hissed. “Just what I would expect from a stuck-up little bitch.”

His words stung, but not as much as the snap of his hips as he thrust into you, forcing a little whine out of your lips. You grit your teeth, trying to muffle your reaction.

“You squeeze me so good when you’re angry,” Robert laughed. “Fuck.”

His hands were digging into you, holding you up as he pulled out and then pressed greedily back in. Your head pushed back against the wall, overwhelmed by his size.

“What’s wrong, baby? Too much for you?” he teased.

“You- wish-”

Your words cut off as Robert fucked sharply into you again, then paused. You wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling his hips against you as you tried to hold yourself up. It only made him push deeper.

“Fuck, Robert-!”

You cried out, interrupting yourself again, and felt his lips brush against your neck.

“I didn’t even move that time, baby,” he smirked.

You couldn’t stand to see him so smug. Somewhere deep inside yourself, you found strength.

“W-what are you waiting for, then? Get to work, pretty boy.”

Robert grinned as he thrust into you, even more powerfully than before. You wanted to whimper, but bit your tongue. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“You really are something else,” Robert chuckled.

His pace had started to speed up, and now he was pumping in and out of you relentlessly, each thrust pushing you back against the wall. Your body had finally adjusted to his girth, and you were almost starting to enjoy the stretch. Not to mention the way that his head hit a certain spot inside of you, nearly making you fall apart every time he brushed against it.

You were finding it harder and harder to suppress your moans, and every now and then one would slip out of your tightly-pressed lips. Robert seemed to speed up every time he heard you whimper.

“Fuck!” you swore, as he hit a particularly deep spot.

“You take my cock so well,” he grunted. Even trying to keep his cool, it was clear that he was only seconds away from release. “Now let’s see how you take my cum.”

“Not… not inside,” you panted.

“Don’t- fucking- tell me what to do.”

“Don't fucking come in me!”

Pressed against the wall, your options for retaliation were limited. Your legs could do nothing but wrap around him; his hands stopping you from putting your feet on the floor. Your own hands were occupied gripping at the lapels of his suit, hanging on for dear life as he split you open. Really, the only available part of you was your mouth.

Your lips bruised hard against his, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting hard enough that you hoped it hurt. Robert let out a muffled growl against you, and you sank your teeth in more.

Somewhere far away, a clock chimed and the party below you surged drunkenly. Robert thrust his hips into you one last time, and then you felt him painting your walls; cum leaking out of you as he held you, still suspended in the air. As the buzzing in your head started to fade, you realized he was smiling against your lips.

You jaw relaxed just enough for Robert to pull himself away. His lip was bruised; angry red from where your teeth had scraped him. He was even more disheveled than he had been, and, somehow, even more satisfied with himself.

“Ended up giving me that kiss anyway,” he rasped, voice still heavy from exertion and lust. “And right at midnight, too.”

You felt your hatred surge again, weakly. You were exhausted; barely able to keep yourself upright when Robert finally set you on your feet. He stepped away, leaving you to tug down your dress and try to make yourself presentable. A very difficult task, considering you still had fresh cum leaking out of you. Your eyes quickly scanned the floor for your panties. You would not stoop to searching on your hands and knees for them. Not until Robert left your office, at least.

Robert finished zipping his pants and replacing his belt, shiny silver buckle clicking under his fingers. He tugged at his suit, barely making a dent in the wrinkles, and smoothed a hand over his hair.

“Well, I would say ‘same time next week,’ but I think it would be easier to pencil you in at lunch,” Robert joked. “Maybe we can finally have that drink before I take you back to my office. You’ll have a really nice view of the city while I fuck you against the window.”

You really couldn’t believe the nerve. Although, by now, it should have been easy to expect no less from Robert. You walked right up to him and planted a finger in the center of his chest.

“If you think I’m ever having sex with you again, you’re twice as delusional as I thought you were,” you huffed.

Robert took one more long look at you, and shrugged.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

#robert fischer x reader #robert fischer #robert fischer smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #LemmyFics

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your-nanas-house · 4 months

Text

Fuck...ing mommy

◇ Pairing: Robert Fisher X Stepmom!Reader

◇ Warnings: SMUT, cowgirl, blowjob, handjob, p in v, boobies job, stepmom x stepson, kissing, age gap (Robert 25 and Y/n 39) mention of impotence and an unhappy forced marriage.

◇ Summary: After a mistake Y/n made things go pretty intense in the penthouse.

◇ Note: An AMAZING collaboration with @mrkdvidal1989 , a wild one. Hope you enjoy...👏.

It definitely wasn't a good day, at least not for Robert as he got out of the car, slamming the door out of anger. Maurice Fischer was in a horrible mood today, and he didn't have any issues with taking it out on his son. Whole day Robert had to deal with backhanded comments and getting called names on every minor mistake.

That’s why, as soon as his shift was over, he jumped into the car pulling off the parking lot as fast as he could. Fishing in his pocket for a card to enter the penthouse they were currently sharing because of the flood in his own apartment a couple levels lower.

The front door made a soft click noise as he entered, allowing him to enter and throw his suitcase on the couch with a deep sigh.

The silence echoing through the space was… unusual, but since it was one of the first times this year when he was home this early, he brushed it off. His stepmom was the usual one to keep the house, with her energy… she was probably busy, at that time, with the chores his dad had left her, so that was probably the reason because she wasn’t near the front door, ready to greet him at the entrance, offering something to eat and a small talk.

The young man sighed loudly, his frustration clear as he tried to free himself from the tie that was getting tighter and tighter in his mind. His coat hanging where it should, his rich shoes resting right beneath.

A scoff escaping his lips when he saw a crease in the tie his mom had gifted him on his 18th birthday.. he needed to fix it, quickly. With a steady and quick pace he walked to his father’s bedroom to grab the number of their trustworthy dry cleaner.

His mind was long gone in the worries concerning his participation in business, and repeating the stressful situations that happened that particular day, so he wasn't paying attention.

As he walked in the room, his light blue eyes on the floor while walking with a goal, a feminine and sensual voice brought him back to reality, making him freeze in place. “Home earlier, huh” the voice purred, attracting his gaze in a magnetic way.

His heart was beating like crazy at the view that he had in front of him… his stepmom was on all four, thin lacy lingerie “covering” the best parts of her mature and feminine body, Her ass sticking out, up in the air as the fabric of the thong, almost completely trapped between her round firm cheeks… her back arched in a delicious way, allowing her round big breasts to press against the soft mattress, the lacy red cloth rubbing slightly against the quilts as she wiggled her butt and that way all her body. Her nylon stockings hugging her long legs, stopping mid-thighs, held by her matching garters in a teasing but extremely seductive way.

“Been working all day, honey” she whispered, arching her back more. Robert’s body got more worked up as his eyes slowly widened and stared shamelessly at her, noticing the silky blindfold that covered her eyes… sinfully angelic, he thought.

“All day long for you” she interrupted his trance in a smooth, silky voice that caressed his mind in the most pleasurable way. It felt like… honey almost, buttery soft tone with a hint of desperation— a deadly combination which on top of the unusually delicious sight, made his mind go blank, and his cock hard at an alarming rate.

With good timing, almost like she knew what she was doing, Y/n smiled, biting her bottom lip while she slid smoothly down on the bed, her body flat against the mattress… her round, perky ass was so noticeable, even in that position.

“I think I deserve a little reward, don’t you agree?” she teased, making Robert’s gaze race back and forth from her barely covered body, to her beautiful face. Little reward? He chuckled internally. That poor lady, Robert thought as he remembered that she was sleeping with his old father.

I'd give you a huge one, his snug mind added, as his hard cock twitched in his pants.

The older woman rolled on her back slowly in a sensual way, her hands playing with her hair before she pushed her breasts together, tongue swirling over her plump lips.

”I need it. Now.” She breathed out, rolling over on her belly again. With the wine red blindfold still intact, she crawled upwards, towards the end of the bed.

Seeing that the situation was progressing with each second, Robert's mind tried to fight the desperate urge to just.. give her what she wanted, because he shouldn't.

Of course he shouldn't, after all it was his.. stepmother.

As soon as she reached blindly in the air, he couldn't help but not leave her hanging, he wanted to be a good stepson for her.

With one single step he closed the distance between the bed and his shins, as he stood right next to the bed.

With a hungry smile on her lips, she reached for his thighs, pressing her hands flat against the material of his expensive pants rubbing them up and down.

”Mmm I've been hungry all day.” She murmured softly, biting her bottom lip softly brushing her face against his clothed boner… her tongue daring to come out to lick the fabric of his suit pants, before rubbing her cheek against it… letting a purr escape her. Damn if he was lucky that she was so disgusted by his father to have to wear a blindfold behind the closed door of their bedroom.

Consequently a long desperate sigh left her lips, which were pressed against Robert’s lower stomach… After she pulled it out of the pants,(don’t like it) she reached for the button, opening it up with a swift move. Draping her little fingers over the band of his boxers, she slowly pulled them down with a smile.

A smile that quickly turned into confusion as a huge penis jumped out of the underwear, hitting her in the face. Knowing exactly how.. not well endowed Maurice was, her suspicions arose as she tried to wrap her hand around the massive girth, unsuccessfully.

Her blood run cold, she quickly got pale as worry and fear slapped her out from her horny state “Maurice-–” she murmured, her voice cracking due to all the emotions.

Robert shivered, his mouth softly open, as he thrusted unintentionally forward, his leaking tip touching her slightly open mouth, smearing his precum against her lips… making her hand tighten around his thick cock and her body jolting back.

Y/n quickly removed the blindfold to reveal her wide eyes

“ROBERT!” she exclaimed, jumping off the king size bed so that she could grab a robe and cover her half-naked self in pure panic and shock. “Oh my god, dear. I’m so sorry, I.. I thought it was your father” she quickly explained, blaming herself without hesitance.. her view of her stepson innocent, seeing him as too young for this kind of thing.

Robert opened his mouth, attempting to say something.. anything as he tucked his rock hard cock back into his pants in a rush, his eyes staring at her tongue which cleaned her lips from him.

As soon as he managed to do so, they heard a slam of the front door.

”I’m home!” Maurice yelled in that typical, grumpy and annoyed voice. This man was forever unsatisfied.

Hearing it, Robert looked Y/n the eyes again, shooting her last apologizing look before retreating from her bedroom, and rushing to his own bedroom.

Y/n was frozen, standing in her room and hugging herself lightly, trying to shake off the guilt of the fact that… she liked the view of her stepson with his cock in her hand.

Admitting easily to herself that it was the most exciting sexual encounter she had for the last few years, ever since she married her husband… and the way his dick felt in her hand, she thought before quickly shaking her head. I need to stop, she added internally before heading to the bathroom to take a shower, rubbing her temples while trying to think about the chores she had to do before the day would have ended.

~~~~

The morning after the older woman woke up like usual, she prepared breakfast for everyone, leaving it in the kitchen before starting to take care of the house like the good housewife Maurice wanted her to be.

She managed to clean up their bedroom and the bathroom before she started to gather around the dirty clothes around the house, a soft music following her as she walked around. Entering what was Robert’s childhood bedroom without any worries, confident it was empty since the time and her everyday life would suggest that he was at work as well, since Maurice was long gone… in all the years ever since she joined the Fischer family, it was the first time for her to live together with Robert.

So it came up as an extreme surprise when she found him still in bed, his hair a handsome mess, a sleepy expression on his face… one hand on his stomach and the other behind his head, a clear visible bulge covered by the blanket that was covering him.

“Oh gosh, sorry, darling. I thought you were already at work” she explained, focusing her eyes on the dirty laundry basket, not noticing her stepson’s lazy gaze traveling all over her body, taking in her outfit. Silky white shorts, a revealing almost see-through tank top that allowed him to see her bare chest under the white fabric… her hard nipples pressing against it.

Robert’s body getting more and more excited at the view, his already hard-rock cock twitching and leaking, almost wetting his pajama pants… luckily not the blanket as well.

“I’m here to take the dirty laundry, honey. Can you show—” she stopped mid-sentence, her eyes stopping on her stepson who was sitting on his bed, his morning-wood so deliciously noticeable now.

His veiny hands pulled up his shirt, revealing his muscular abdomen and hair path under the navel. As the shirt went up further, she couldn't tear her gaze away from his muscular pecs and smooth, broad shoulders.… short dark chest-hair peppering his upper chest in an almost aesthetic way. Y/n’s jaw fell slack, at the utter shock she felt.

In her eyes, he was always so… innocent. Delicate and broken.

The same man she saw as a boy… was now boldly looking her straight in the eyes with the confidence that made her feel intimidated. Something she hasn't felt… for a while.

Gulping the knot that formed in her throat, she kept staring even though Robert was witnessing her hungry gaze.

With one eyebrow raised in a cocky manner, Robert rose from his bed, standing a few feet across Y/n. Without a second of doubt, he pulled down his pajama bottoms, standing completely naked in front of a woman that should be… like a mother to him.

Y/n’s eyes were wide open, as the laundry basket fell to her feet. She wasn't able to hold it, not when that massive cock that she tasted not so long ago, stood proudly looking right into her eyes. The pink tip was leaking with a clear fluid as it throbbed slightly.

Robert picked his pajamas from the floor, coming closer as he handed it to Y/n looking down at her with a serious expression.

”There you go” he said in a low, raspy voice as his Adam's apple bobbed on his throat. He could see the hunger written all over her face, he just… needed to push a little further to make her take the first step.

Her eyes closed for a brief moment, she cursed under her breath while picking back up the basket, placing his clothes in it before trying to focus on something else… like the sock that “dropped” from the bushel.

The older woman shifted, bending automatically down to grab the piece of clothing and place it back in place… accidentally brushing Robert's erect cock with her round ass, earning a low grunt from him.

As the younger man shook softly because of the jolt of pleasure, Y/n's reacted immediately as the panic settled, making her turn around without thinking… so that she could check on her stepson, worried to have hurt him somehow.

“Oh gosh, sweetie, sor—” she tried to apologize, freezing as soon as the leaking organ slapped her across the face making her gasps softly…and Robert groan. He was so glad of her clumsiness.

Her eyes were blown out, her mouth slightly agape, while her body completely froze in place… the air making her notice the pre-cum which had painted her beautiful face.

“Shit, mama, are you trying to kill me or something?” Robert murmured under his breath, his big hand now holding the base of it as his heavy balls tightened visibly, getting her attention immediately.

Robert noticed it, a mischievous smirk appearing on his lips as he gripped it harder. ”Are you okay?” He asked with a hint of mockery in his voice.

It took her a moment to try to speak, words dying down her throat as she just hummed a confirmation… not really registering his question. Robert chuckled, seeing her state. He had the upper hand now.

His left hand slowly moved onto her head as she didn't move from the spot so close to him. His right hand stroked his length lazily as the other one caressed her hair gently, scratching her scalp softly.

”Do you need something, mum?.. huh?” he couldn't help but keep teasing, seeing her hungry eyes staring at his pulsing, veiny cock.

She glanced up, hearing the tone of his voice, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly before she finally spoke

“Seems like you're the one who needs something, eh… mommy doesn't like being mocked” she informed him, licking his angry red tip without warming— collecting the pre-cum that was threatening to drop. He didn't expect it, at all, and his head flew back immediately, followed by a hiss, due to the sudden sensation of her warm tongue on his sensitive tip.

”Fuck!” He spat out, grabbing a hold of her head.

His beautiful eyes fluttering shut as he felt the warmth of her mouth wrapped around him. His patience was basically non existent as he saw her, kneeling in front of him with his cock in her mouth. Robert’s hand pulled her head down, making her choke around his girthy member as he hit the back of her throat with each thrust.

His heart pounding inside of his chest as his hips speed up the pace, wet, slapping noises filling his bedroom in a sinful but delicious way. Robert couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight.

Y/n struggled to contain all of him in her throat, saliva dripping down her chin along with the tears that fell from her eyes. She was a mess, all because of him.

”That’s a good mummy” He hissed out, pulling her down and keeping all of his cock down her throat for a few longer moments.

Y/n silently prayed that he would let go of her head soon, as she couldn't breathe around his thick cock that filled up all of her throat to the brim. A musky, masculine scent hitting her nostrils since her nose got pulled against his pelvis… her chin making contact with his balls with each move, as he greedily kept pressing her against his body.

As time passed, her hands tried to claw his muscular thighs.. her nails digging in his pale freckled skin as a warning to let her go.

He finally got the message, pulling her away with a hiss as Y/n eagerly tried to catch a breath. His cock was a mess, completely covered with spit and throbbing. The red color showing how desperate he was for release.

”Get up” He commanded suddenly, grabbing a hold of her shoulders before pulling her up.

As soon as Y/n got on her feet and managed to clean her face, she came closer grabbing his jaw suddenly… making Robert’s eyes go wide in surprise.

”Look, sweetheart…” She started out before the other hand went to grab his needy cock.. a little too hard for his liking, causing him to wince.

”You won't tell me what to do, baby. I’m your mommy not your slut” she whispered into his ear, the grip on his member tightening even more. ”Got the message?” She asked with the sweetest mum voice she could pull off, making him nod obediently. ”Good boy” she praised softly.

As soon as the last words left her lips, she pushed him on his king sized bed, watching as he stared at her. Like she was the most beautiful thing on the earth.

Y/n smiled seeing it, as she undressed slowly, putting on a bit of a show. Before he knew it, she was straddling his thighs and stroking his pink cock with both hands.

Her touch was soft but determinate, she wanted something and was for sure going to get it…. To take it from him.

Robert's body was shaking in pleasure now, her teasing touch was driving him crazy… making his back arch and his breath go heavier.

“Y/n—” he hissed, making it sound almost like a curse or invite/suggestion to speed things up. Hearing it, she looked up angrily, one of her hands landing a harsh slap on his face.

”That wasn't right now, was it?” She asked, still stroking his dick. ”What do you call your mummy, Robert?” Her tone was so soft and gentle, that he almost believed her good intentions.

”M..mommy.” He repeated with a whine, making Y/n chuckle.

”Good boy” She praised, leaning down and kissing his tip. “Such.. a good boy” she hummed at the taste as soon as she licked her lips clean.

Her free hand wandered on her stomach… slowly up to her bare breasts to play with her nipples. Taking a small break from the handjob to focus on her own body, pinching and brushing her thumbs on her erect nipples… causing her back to arch and her hips to shift against Robert's.

Her eyes glancing down, meeting his amazed gaze before she leaned down her chest now hovering above his face in a teasing way.

His stare daring to move from her tits to her eyes, stretching his neck to reach her face as soon as he noticed her leaning in for a kiss… A long, passionate and sweet kiss that got more intense as she grinded her bare pussy against his cock.

It didn't last that long since the older woman was getting a bit impatient by the mere feeling of his responsive length.

“Getting mommy all wet, huh?” she whispered, biting her bottom lip, excited by the situation “Can you get your mama's titties wet too, honey?” she requested sweetly, lowering her chest so that he could reach it with his mouth.

The pressure her teeth were giving to her bottom lip increased as Robert attacked her swollen chest, hiding his face between what he was willing to call heaven so that he could wet them just as his mommy had requested him…. Licking, mouthing and spitting on them till she was satisfied enough.

Enough to move away and kneel down back on the floor, happy to rest her legs on a soft carpet instead of a cold floor. Her hands busy teasing her breasts close to his cock before finally squeezing it between them.

A hum left her body as she watched Robert react to her actions, bouncing with the thrusts he was giving as he fucked desperately her boobs.

“Mommy!” He whined, increasing his speed desperate for more, his balls now slapping against her tits every time he made them reach the base of his member.

“Yes, my good boy” she cooed, letting him hold her big breasts as he wanted, so that she could reach his balls with her small hands, playing around with them while her eyes watched his cock appear and disappear between her chest.

Her eyes closing quickly and her mouth opening as he shuttered, thrusting up his hips before freezing completely.. shooting his load on her face and boobs, earning a soft hum of approval from her.

Robert was panting, his eyes still blown out at what just happened. Y/n watched him with a grin as she scooped up some cum with her fingers, before shoving them in her mouth with a hum.

”Fucking naughty” Robert scoffed with a smile, watching her.

With her actions, it didn't take a long time for him to grow hard again, and Y/n wasn't shy about watching the whole process. Her gaze didn't falter for a moment as she stared at his cock growing harder, bigger with each passing second before he was ready again.

I missed it, she thought, thinking of how long it always took for Maurice to get ready, if she was lucky enough that he'll.. get ready at all, that is.

Robert’s hands remained above his head as he watched her get up, rubbing her clit lightly with a quiet purr. Coming closer, she threw her leg over his, straddling his lap while grabbing his cock in her small hand, stroking it again. He was still quite sensitive, so he hissed quietly at the sensation.

”Fuck.. give me a moment, mommy” He asked, but Y/n just shook her head, lining him up with her slick entrance.

”I waited long enough.” She responded almost arrogantly with a smile, as she slammed down taking all of his impressive length into her tight heat with a loud moan.

Her back arched at the sensation, she could feel him filling her up completely, a bulge present in her lower stomach. “So big, baby” she moaned out impressed, squeezing her walls teasingly around his cock, earning a low desperate moan from him.

“So-fucking-big” she murmured through gritted teeth, bouncing hard at each word “Want to…feel you deep balls inside of me, baby!” she quickly added, rolling sensually her hips with the goal to reach her own peak.

Her smaller hands resting on his abs before moving in a teasing pace up to his pecs… remaining there for support, so that she could finally bounce wildly on his length. Accepting the stretching feeling and the pain mixed to a pleasure she didn't feel in ages.

“Fucking hell” she cursed, her ass smacking against his thighs at every rough and fast bounce— her breasts following the movements of her body, moving in a hypnotic way, making her look like a tiny angel who was there to ride the sin out of him or so was Robert's view of that moment.

They both missed the sensation of passionate sex, and the thrill of the “taboo” to all of it was just an addition.

He so desperately wanted to wrap his bruised lips around her nipples, suckling on them like a needy infant… burying his cock deeper inside of her cunt, railing it till they would have both reached their peaks. He was quite sure that his father never gave her an orgasm before, and even if he did, it wouldn't come close to the one HE would have given her now.

”So… beautiful” He breathed out with half-closed eyes as he kept moving, trying to spend all of his cum inside her as soon as his climax started to hit his whole body, making his muscles relax under her touch.

His eyes rolled back as she continued to bounce, milking his cock as another orgasms built up not long after.

His hips shuttered upwards and his hands grabbed her hips, rolling her in a quick motion with the back against the mattress so that he could fuck his cum deep inside of her sensitive pussy making her squirm. His head was buried in her breasts all along, even as he kept pumping.

The pleasure so strong that Y/n didn't pay attention to her top half enough to notice.

Only after a couple minutes, Robert slowed down to a stop, laying on top of her with his mouth still attached to her hardened nipples as he kept sucking.

Y/n sighed deeply in satisfaction, looking down at him with a grin and cocked eyebrow.

”Well… are you hungry, baby?” She asked with a giggle, patting his head. Robert tilted his head to the side, laying on her breasts with a cute little smile.

”Mhmmm.” He hummed softly.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989

#robert fischer #robert fischer x y/n #robert fischer x you #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer fic #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic #cillian fic #cillian murphy smut #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy inception

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lovelybucky1 · 7 months

Text

Special Request

Kinktober Day 2- Anal Sex

warnings: AFAB!reader, anal sex, anal toys, sex work, pre-established scene, unprotected sex, creampies, f!masturbation, 18+ minors dni

main masterlist

kinktober masterlist

being a call girl for the richest businessmen in america was a high profile job. not only was desertion and privacy required of you, you were also expected to keep up with your clients’ sexual desires.

most of them were tame, not requiring too much physicality. most of them wanted to worship you. unsurprisingly, powerful men like to be submissive in the bedroom. it didn’t take much work on your end to lay back and let them put their hands and mouth on you, occasionally giving praise and direction that made their cocks leak.

one client, however, stands out from the rest. he is very dominant and demanding. when you first met him, he made his desires clear to you.

“when i’m paying you, i own you. i dont care if you have other clients or a husband or a kid. when you’re with me, i’m the only thing you think about. before each session i’ll give you a list of things to prepare and give you money if you have to buy anything. then you’ll come here at 5:15 to set up and be ready for me when i get home from work. i’ve given the security guards notice that you’ll be coming and they’ll let you in. i will tip very generously for your services, but if that is not enough incentive to keep up with my needs, we will part ways.”

you agreed to his terms and since then, things with mr. fischer have been wonderful. he does, in fact, tip very generously, but that is nothing compared to how he is in bed.

he expects obedience but will also occasionally instruct you to disobey so he can punish you. he gets off on power and control, and he makes sure to constantly display both of those with you.

he texted you two days ago sending details about tonight’s session. he was short and to the point as always.

red lace. buttplug- brand new, never been used. dark makeup. i want you stretched and prepped with the plug when i get there.

along with the message he sent $40 for the plug he wanted you to buy. later that day you went out to the sex shop and bought one you thought he’d like. now, robert was going to be home any minute and you’re dressed and prepped exactly how he wants.

“front door open,” the robotic voice from the security system announces.

you tremble slightly in anticipation as you hear his shined shoes click on the hardwood stairs. you left the door to the bedroom open per his request. he made it clear that you’re a toy for him to use, not his wife preparing a cheeky surprise.

mr fischer has a lot of hang ups, but he pays well and has a wonderful cock, so you put up with it.

he walks through the door and lets out a deep sigh when he sees you. though you’re face down on the bed, you hear the familiar rustling of his clothes and can picture what he’s doing behind you perfectly.

he’s loosened his tie and unclipped his cuff links, placing them on the dish on the dresser. then he shrugs his suit jacket off and drapes it over the chair he likes to watch you from occasionally. you can’t hear his steps on the carpeted floor, so his cool hand on your ass makes you jump.

“hello, sir,” you greet him. he says nothing in return.

his thumbs trace over the lace edges of your panties, taking in the scarlet color that he loves so much. he then begins to knead your ass cheeks, digging fingers into your soft flesh hard enough to bruise. without warning, he brings his hand back and spanks you, the slap ringing through the bedroom. you successfully stifle your whimper.

clearly not in the mood for foreplay, robert grabs the waistband of your panties and tugs them down so they gather at the crook of your knees. you chose a cheeky pair of panties, wanting something that will hide the base of the plug until they’re completely off.

from behind you, robert lets out a low groan. you chose a silver plug with a red jewel that glitters in the dim light of the bedroom. he pushes on the base with his thumb, watching you take it deeper before it moves back out when he takes away the pressure.

while you would like to be talked to, you understand that this is mr. fischer’s stress relief. he’s pent up from a long week at work, but once he’s closer to cumming, he won’t be able to shut up.

robert grasps the end of the plug and slowly pulls it out. he waits until the widest part of the plug is stretching you before pushing it back in. he repeats this, slowly fucking you with the bulb and watching as your cunt drips.

mercifully, he pulls the plug out and tosses it to the floor. it makes a faint thud, then you hear the sound of a zipper. robert slaps his cock on your right cheek, leaving a sticky patch of precum behind. he spits on your hole and pushes his blunt head against it.

he doesn't ask if you're ready or give any warning before he starts to push in. despite wearing a plug, there is still a bit of a stretch. he goes slow, but unrelenting. once he's fully seated inside you, he grabs you by the hips and uses his hold as leverage to fuck you.

"tight fuckin' ass," he groans.

the slow drag of his cock inside you makes your toes curl. you know he isn't doing this for your benefit, for your pleasure, but in some way, that makes you enjoy it more. he's using you like a fleshlight, just a warm hole to stick his dick in.

lewd squelches come from behind you as he fucks into you, using you for his own pleasure. his cock stimulates your g-spot from a different angle than you’re used to and it makes you dizzy, abdomen burning with need.

“you’re so fucking good,” he says, thrusting harder.

you try not to make noise, wanting to be a perfect toy for him, but it’s hard to suppress the whines he’s punching out of you.

“who owns this ass?” he asks, giving you a spank.

“you do, sir,” you whine.

speak when spoken to is the rule he likes you to follow. and when you do speak, you must use a title showing your respect.

“i’m gonna cum in you, honey. fill you ‘til you’re fucking dripping with it.”

robert loves to cum inside. to him, it’s the final display of ownership during sex. after a few hard, rough thrusts, robert’s cock twitches and the first spurts of cum fill you.

“fuck,” he hisses through his teeth.

he pulls your hips flush against yours and moves you onto him, pushing and pulling rapidly to milk his cock dry.

it was over too quickly for your liking, but he’s not paying you to cum on his cock. you’re here for his pleasure and nothing else.

robert stays inside you for a few moments to catch his breath, then he pulls out slowly, careful not to let any cum escape. he then picks up the plug from the floor, wipes it off on his suit pants, and slides it back into you.

“good girl,” he says, tapping your ass as a single to sit up.

robert beings to undress fully in front of you, but there isn’t anything sexual about it besides his enticing body. he isn’t putting on a show for you.

he leaves his expensive suit in a crumple on the floor, uncaring that it will get wrinkled. his dry cleaner will make it neat again, and if not, he can buy ten more just like it as a replacement.

“i’m gonna go shower. money’s on the dresser. feel free to get yourself off before you go.” he says casually.

he walks out of the bedroom and into the master bathroom. you watch his ass until your vision is obstructed by the door.

you sigh and scoot up the bed to bury your face in his pillow, inhaling the masculine scent of aftershave and shampoo.

you slide your hand down your front and begin to rub your clit. you wish, just once, he’d request a longer session. one where he fucks you thoroughly and makes you cum repeatedly before the night is through.

#robert fischer #robert fischer x reader #inception #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #robert fischer smut #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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mysaintkitten · 7 months

Text

Mile High | Robert Fischer x fem!reader

prompt: you’re the stewardess on robert fischer’s private jet, and he’s not too fond of your attitude. (NSFW, no minors)

WARNINGS: robert’s a cunt, plane sex, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), degradation and praise, slight age gap, power imbalance

word count: 2.1k

today was your first day working with mr. fischer, you had been a regular stewardess for a few years now but due to good word of mouth you were able to become a private jet stewardess. it was a more intimate environment, the pay was better, you had less people to tend to, it was overall quite the win for you.

the jet was set to leave in a few minutes, so you found your way to the bathroom and quickly dolled yourself up a bit before mr. fischer came onto the plane. you’re expecting a man, at least in his 60s, rich as hell and eager to pounce on a young woman such as your self. you could use it to your advantage, maybe leave the jet with some extra money in your pocket.

while in the bathroom, you overheard some small talk happening within the jet.

“good afternoon, robert! right this way” you hear, “robert?” you think to yourself. you wait until the minor chaos of dealing with the baggage is dealt with before you take one last look in the mirror, feeling satisfied with what you see staring back at you. with a deep breath, you walk out the bathroom. what was once lively a few moments ago has fallen silent. you see a lone man sitting in his seat, hands clasped in front of him while gazing out the window. is that mr. fischer? or, robert, as you had just overheard.

you were expecting some grandpa. oxygen tank on standby if need be. you could tell from afar he was older than you, but not by very much. a decade at the most.

you quickly dismiss those thoughts, and bring a semi-artificial smile to your face. as you begin to approach him and his face becomes clearer, you can tell he’s quite an attractive man. sharp suit, nice watch, clean shave, he looks good to say the least. as you stand beside his seat, you start to say the introduction you were told to say by the jet company.

“good afternoon, mr. fischer, my nam-“

“i don’t want any handouts.” he says sharply, not even attempting to shift his gaze from the window.

oh. so he’s like that.

you brush past his blatant arrogance and continue with your introduction, “oh, no, i’m not here to offer anything at the moment. just introducing myself, my names y/n and i’ll be taking care of you for this flight.” you say, forcing that smile back to your face. it’s at this point that he actually looks at you and you’re met with his striking blue eyes, he really looks like the embodiment of if looks could kill. “throughout the flight, anything you need, just let me know.” he scans you up and down before returning to your face, muttering a small “mhm” before looking back out the window again.

once your backs to him, you roll your eyes, heading to your lounging area to wait around until robert to wants something.

around a half an hour has passed and you’ve resorted to reading a book, you’ve read it multiple times before, but it’s an old reliable. and you also had absolutely nothing else to do. that is until you hear him call out for you, “ma’am?” you hear robert say, you place your book down and stand up, walking over to him.

he’s watching you this time, actually looking at you like a person.

“could you get me a scotch on the rocks?” he asks, leaning his head back slightly, “of course, i’ll be back shortly.” you reply before heading to the opposite side of the jet to make his drink. after a few moments, you return, drink in hand.

“here you go, mr. fisc-“

“could you get me a cigarette, too?” he adds, fully cutting you off without care.

“i’m sorry, sir, smoking isn’t allowed on the jet.” you reply, obviously you can’t smoke on the goddamn jet, but this would probably come as a surprise to him. arrogant little pricks probably never been told no in his life.

he brings the drink up to his lips, taking a swig before placing it down in the cup holder.

“i could buy you, and this jet company. get me the cigarette.” he spat, you’re rendered speechless, as you begin to leave to try and find cigarettes you feel a tight grip on your wrist.

“for future reference, doll, when i want something, i get it. i’m not asking you, i’m telling you.” he grumbled before letting go of your wrist. as you kept walking you couldn’t help but be absolutely appalled at his behaviour.

somehow, you were able to find the cigarettes and a lighter.

you remind yourself, suck it up, he’s filthy rich, the pay will be good. the thought of taking money from him gave you an authentic smile that you held on your face as you approached him, cigarettes and lighter in hand.

“here you go, sir.” you say, he grabs them without acknowledging you at all and quickly brings a cigarette up to his lips, lighting it before inhaling the smoke sharply. you watch as his shoulders drop as he exhales.

you turn your back to him to leave, “wait.” you hear him say, you turn to face him.

“sit.” he adds, using his head to signal towards the seat sitting across from his. you feel your anxiety begin to peak, but you oblige. “how’d you get this job?” he pries, taking a sip from his drink and then a drag from the cigarette. “uh..” you start, mind racing. you’re about to lose your job, you think to yourself. “i worked as a regular stewardess for a few years, but someone put a good word in about me, so now i’m here.” you say, as sweetly as you can.

“good word? about what? did you fuck someone to get them to say that?” he asks, his words are jarring. you can’t believe he’d speak to you like this, “excuse me?” you question.

“because the behaviour you’ve shown is less than satisfactory to say the least. so i’m just wondering if you fucked your way to get here.” he shrugs, “i’m disgusted with how you’ve acted. and if you wanna keep your job, you’re going to have to prove yourself worthy.”

you don’t know what to say, “mr. fischer i’m afraid i don’t know what you’re-“

“call me robert, hun.” he says, his tone still cold as he puts out the cigarette.

“robert. i’m not sure what you’re implying here.” you repeat, feeling yourself become flushed.

“you said you’d be taking care of me for this flight, didn’t you? and right now, i’m having some needs that i’m sure you could meet. after all, the other favours i’ve asked of you have been a disappointment.” he says, beginning to unbuckle his belt, your eyes go wide,

“robert, i’m not sure-“ you squeak, being thrown off by how quickly everything is progressing.

“sh, do one thing right and keep yourself quiet.” he says, now unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. “matter of fact, get on your knees.” he growls, blatantly palming himself in front of you. this entire situation is a huge mind-fuck. roberts been nothing but a petty little cunt the entire time, but he’s still rather handsome, and, his most dominating quality, rich. you don’t wanna lose your job, and you’re willing to do whatever he’d ask to prevent it. so you fall to your knees in front of him.

“you’re gonna suck me off, and then i’ll consider forgetting about your bad hospitality.” he remarked, scooting his hips forward slightly. you nod, not saying a word before tugging his waistbands down, watching his hard cock spring against his stomach. you hesitantly give him a few pumps. after building up the courage, you bring his tip into your mouth, sucking and swirly around it gently, watching his body begin to go limp as a low groan came from within him.

slowly, you start to take more, pumping whatever isn’t fitting in your mouth, he’s moaning now. not very loud, but enough for you to be able to hear him. you feel a palm being placed on top of your head, forcing you down lower on his cock.

“take more, and don’t be shy, sweetheart, you wanna keep your job, don’t you?” he purrs, you view that as a sign for you to play with his balls as well while sucking him off. at this point you’re basically deep throating him, twisting your hand to act as if a continuation of your mouth.

“ah fuck..” he grunts, “do you only follow instructions when they involve you being a whore?” he growls through gritted teeth, you hum around him, unable to give him any other response. he swats your hands away and locks his fingers into your hair, fucking your mouth at a rough and unexpected pace.

you can barely breathe, your eyes are watering, and worst of all- you can feel yourself becoming wet. you hope to god that he doesn’t know that he’s turning you on, he’d never let you forget it.

“god..” he moans, “such a good girl. is that all it takes to get you to behave? a cock down your throat?” he teases, brushing your hair back to watch himself fuck your mouth. you whine around him, and glance at him through half lidded eyes, continuing to let him have his way with you.

he starts to huff quietly before roughly tugging you off his cock, making you gasp loudly at the ability to breathe clearly again.

“don’t wanna come just yet, wanna use that pussy first.” he grunts, pumping himself slowly. almost as if in a daze, you stand to your feet and shimmy your stockings and panties off, leaving you still nearly fully clothed. you place your hands on his shoulders and climb onto his lap, lining him up with your entrance before slowly sliding yourself down. wincing slightly at the stretch.

he moans lowly and his head dips back, “fuck.. you’re so wet.. gripping me so good.. shame you’re such a disrespectful slut. maybe you just need a good fucking, huh?” he groans in your ear, running his tongue along its outer shell. chills spread across your body as you raise your hips and slowly begin to ride him, “y-yeah.. i think i do..” you reply, hiding your face in his neck,

“mhm.. i think so too..” he purrs before placing his hands on your hips, guiding you to pick up a faster and rougher pace. you can’t help but moan while gripping his shoulders, “s-ir!” you whine, “feels so good!”.

he lets out a breathy laugh, “such a good girl when she’s got a cock inside her.” he nudges your head up to expose your neck and plants wet kisses, occasionally sucking gently. he sneaks his hands down and rides your skirt up so it’s sitting around your waist, fully exposing your bare bottom half. he grips your ass roughly before placing a firm smack against it, making you gasp loudly. you feel yourself becoming wetter, almost embarrassingly so. he noticed this.

“oh, did you like that, sweet thing? god, you really are a slut..” he laughs lowly before shifting his hips up to meet your trusts. the cabin is only filled with the sounds of heavy breath and moans, skin on skin, a slight squelching sounds which are making you blush harder.

you’re a moaning mess, shaking slightly, gasping and whining. he grabs one of your wrists and moves it between your legs,

“rub your clit, get yourself off on my cock, sweetheart.” he groans in the sweetest tone he’s had the entire flight. and you do just that, rub your clit while he fucks up into you. you’re close, very close, and judging by that gesture he just pulled you assume he is too.

“i’m close, robert!” you whine, screwing your eyes shut tightly, “come for me.” he growls before smacking your ass again, the sting of the smack pushed you over the edge. your orgasm rippling through you as he continued to thrust himself inside you.

“oh, shit, hun..” he mumbles, “squeezing my cock so nicely.. like you’re begging me to come inside..”

before you can fully process what he’s said, hes coming inside you, biting down on your shoulder to stifle his own moans. after riding out his orgasm, he begins to lift you off. but instead of guiding you to the seat in front of him, he moves you to the seat beside him, then proceeding to lean forward and pick up your stockings and panties for you.

“if you clean up your act, i’ll have you on my flights more often. i’ll treat you good, sweetheart, real good.”

#cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #inception #robert fischer #robert fischer x reader #hope you guys enjoy #:))

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