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#this was the only thing I had planned for drawing today :)
tragedybunny · 3 days
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Pretty Baby 2
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༺Summary༻
Astarion is a brat on several occasions and is duly punished for it. In between, he and Mommy (Fina) deal with some emotional issues.
༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Tav
༺Warnings༻ NSFW - PiV Sex, Anal Play, Femdom, Mommy Kink, Feminization, Forced Orgasm, Chastity Cage, Porn with Feelings, Porn streaming, Pegging, Astarion being a brat
༺Word Count༻ 3783
༺A/N༻
So, it's chapter 2 of a fic I never planned to write. Lol. And somewhow now we've got plot and feelings involved. Hope you all enjoy, I had a lot of fun writing it. And huge thank you to the best of betas and friends, @icybluepenguin
The chat is populated by Tav's and other characters from my friends, they all helped makes this a delight.
Check out two similar fics if you dig mine. Decadent Torture and Careless Whisper
Read On AO3 Chapter 1
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“Hush, a little more, then your punishment is over.” I let go of his cock, turn off the plug vibrating in his ass, and give him a short reprieve. 
Drawing gasping breaths, he looks up at me with pleading, tear filled eyes. God, his eyes are pretty; startling crimson, soft, and round. Normally, I cave when they're all watery like this. But not tonight - tonight is for lessons. 
I play with the little pink bow on his white thigh high stocking. Leaving him with only those, his white bra, and of course his collar, made him such a fetching picture for our little teaching session.
He'd spent most of the night on his knees in the naughty corner, those stockings peeking out of his pleated white skirt, a little pink cashmere sweater completing his look. I'd posted a few pictures that had his audience nice and worked up.
Demi_g0ddess: oh looks like Little Star was very bad today can’t wait to see what Mommy does to the little brat Bookworm420: didn’t realize Mommy was a thicc queen this might be too much for my ovaries
The chat had been crowded when we set up for the stream. Before the camera went on, I told him what to take off and how to prep, but not what I was planning. 
We went live and I made him give a little introduction. 
“I've had a very bad attitude lately and Mommy wants to make sure I'm thoroughly punished, so she's letting you all watch.” Every word was said petulantly as he leaned into playing the brat. 
Ari147: wonder what he did… Drag-onme: who cares, as long we get to watch the aftermath BardlockLongdick: is that a leather couch animal cruelty is not sexy.
“Go on,” I prompted, gesturing for him to get ready. 
The clothes he stripped were folded and set to the side, the chat cheering him on. When he kneeled down, I handed him a vibrating plug that made his eyes go wide. 
“Mommy, please…” he pleaded, but obediently went to work prepping and inserting it, cheeks flushed a deep red. I let him position himself in my lap, head propped on the arm of the couch. Then I started typing, Astarion watching with dawning horror.  
Mommy: Little Star has been an absolute brat about wearing a chastity cage while I’m out of town, because he wouldn’t be able to touch himself. So, tonight, I’m making him come as many times as I think he can handle. 
Demonbbyy: poor little thing got himself into a lot of trouble  TestyZesty: Mommy is way too nice about it but I’m still going to watch.
And here we were- Astarion, covered in his own semen, whimpering in my arms. I drag my finger along his cock, and he sucks in a shuddering breath. One more and I think he’ll have learned his lesson. I push the button on the remote for the plug.
“Fuck,” he whines the word. 
Penguino: aww, Mommy, I think he’s had enough  TestyZesty: nah, he’s still coherent  keep going Demi_g0ddess: Zesty, we’re sharing a brain cell  DrowDaddy: this chat is very mean tonight
I put a generous coating of lube on my hand and begin to work his shaft again. He pants and moans, desperate sounds falling from his lips as he builds to another orgasm. 
The chat continues to go feral as he whines and cries. I'm gentle this last round, languidly rubbing, letting the plug do its work. “That's it, one more for me. You've been so good for your punishment.”
He squirms at the praise, tearfully whimpering, hips weakly bucking as I take him to climax again. My other hand turns up the intensity on the plug. 
“Pleeeease,” he cries, voice ragged.
Another spurt of cum and he goes limp. I turn off the plug and lean down to kiss his sweat soaked forehead, letting him recover for a moment. He's so pretty like this, spent and helpless in my lap.  “Now, are you ready to apologize for being such a little brat the past couple of days?” 
He doesn't hesitate. “I'm sorry, Mommy,” he whimpers, tears running down his face. 
“Good baby. Almost done.” 
He tenses. “But...”
“Shh. They get to see because of the attitude.” He makes a noise. “Don't turn this into a spanking session,” I warn and he gets quiet. 
I take a warm, moist towel I'd set up earlier and clean up his pretty cock. The chat is losing it. 
KneelForMeSweets: and we get to see the cage  can he act up every night 
It's a pretty pink little chastity cage, just perfect for him. I slide the ring on first, then put the tube over his cock before locking it down. He's so quiet, I can hear every breath and the sniffles he's still fighting. 
Once they get a good look, I shut down the stream. 
Mommy: I'm going to go get this little brat cleaned up. Hopefully, he's learned his lesson.
Bitchybambi: I hope not, I want to see what you do next  KneelForMeSweets: she can DM me for ideas.
I kill the video and give him a proper kiss as he clings to me, spent and shivering. “Come on, you. Bath time.”
Astarion is unusually quiet during our aftercare session, and when he's settled into bed in a pair of oversized pajamas, I pull him close, and he snuggles into my neck on instinct. 
“You know, if you think it's too much to wear it, you don't have to.” I run my fingers through his curls and cover his face in soft kisses. He's done stints in the cage before, but I'm starting to doubt myself on this one. It would kill me to ever hurt him for real. 
He doesn't move; if anything, he burrows deeper into the crook of my neck. “It's not, and I am sorry for being a pain. It's just…”
He makes a small, frustrated noise and I keep petting him. “Take your time.” 
For a few minutes, he just takes shaky breaths, and then he speaks. “It’s this whole going back to school thing. I'm nervous, and you're going to be gone for the next two days. And what if this is a dumb idea and I can't do it.”
“It's not a dumb idea, you really like fashion design, baby. And why do you think you can't do it?” 
“Remember the last time I was in school? I failed out.” 
“Astarion, you didn't want to be a lawyer and you hated law school. You only went because Caz-” I feel him tense in my arms, “because he made you.” 
“I know.” He sounds teary again. “But it doesn't mean I don't feel stupid.”
“Love, my pretty little wife, you are not stupid. You’re capable and creative. And you know I won’t have time on this stupid team building trip, otherwise I’d bring you with.” 
“Still going to miss you, though.” 
“I know, baby. I’ll be back before you know it.”
The next morning, Astarion drives me to the airport. I put the keys for his collar and the cage in my jewelry box in case of an emergency or if it’s too much for him. It's cold and rainy, and he’s adorable in oversize sweats with sleepy eyes. After he unloads my bag, I pull him in for a hug and feel it pressed against me. A wave of lust courses through me; I can’t wait to come back and have a nice little session with him. 
“Call me when you land, Fina.” 
I don’t know if he realizes how much I’ll miss him. Astarion and I have rarely been apart since we met in grad school. It's just as hard on me to get on that plane and be without him.
We get one quick call before I’m off to the first of many “activities” the firm planned. I can’t be too angry about it, they pay a ton, and it finances my trophy wife’s lifestyle. I tell Astarion I’ll call him after dinner and karaoke hour. 
The whole day isn't that tortuous, and most of my coworkers get into the spirit of things for karaoke. I still make my exit as soon as I can to get some time in with Astarion. 
To my surprise, I see he's streaming. Sprawled out on the bed in a sheer black satin chemise that's ridden up his thighs enough to show off his beautifully caged cock. 
Instead of anything salacious, he's painting his nails. Not every stream is as action filled as last night. Some of them are just mundane things like now. I can’t fault the audience, I'd still pay to see him too, if he wasn’t mine already. I slide into the chat without announcing myself. 
Ari147: nothing fun tonight? :( 
“I’m afraid not, darling. If I don’t get any fun, neither do you.” He blows a cheeky kiss to the camera, and readjusts, spreading his legs more. One hand idly traces unpainted nails along a thigh while he blows on the ones he just painted. 
He’s such a filthy little tease. 
Mommy: glad to see you’re behaving yourself tonight
He sits up straighter, eyes lighting up. “Hi, Mommy. Missing all this?” His hand climbs higher, running up his abdomen to his chest. 
Demonbbyy: if she isn’t, I’ll take him   Mommy: settle yourselves down
Astarion leans over, getting on all fours to look directly into the camera, licking his lips. “Well, are you?” he pouts. 
Mommy: you know I am, and I’ll prove it when I get home 
His breath hitches. “That’s all for tonight, darlings. I want to give Mommy all my… attention.” 
The stream goes blank and he’s video-calling me seconds later. “Hi.” He smiles giddily. “I thought you might be a little later.”
“What can I say, I do actually miss you a lot. How was your day?”
We chat for a while and I watch him finish his nails, still in his chemise, which hides nothing as he shifts around. He seems less nervous about the school situation, which I chalk up to actually talking about it. 
“Alright, I should probably get to sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.” 
The morning call goes smooth enough, but the day is filled with seminars and an afternoon paintball session. Why do HR departments always think that’s a good idea? Astarion starts texting me around lunch, chatty little messages that I don’t have time to properly answer. Then the attitude creeps in. 
“Fine, if you don’t want to talk to me.”
“I. Am. Busy. Astarion. I’ll call after dinner.”
I forgot dinner is an awards banquet that traps me for longer than I’d anticipated. It never seems to end, and I start trying to text him during it. No response, and a part of me begins to stress that he’s not doing well. He’d tell me though if he wasn’t, I’m pretty sure. 
I practically run up to my room after dinner, skipping the cocktail hour after and all the great networking. All because he has me nearly panicked with worry. So of course, when he doesn’t answer his phone, I’m furious to find him on stream. 
He’s not actually wearing anything, sitting on the plush white rug, a cozy glow from the fireplace providing ambient lighting.
BaasaNova: weren’t you supposed to be in a chastity cage while Mommy is gone 
He gives his hard cock a firm stroke and moans dramatically, red eyes dancing with mischief. “If I’m getting ignored, I’m not going to listen. Besides, she’s busy, so what she doesn’t know isn’t going to hurt her.”
Bookworm420: this seems like a bad idea I don't want to see you get in trouble. 
It isn’t about disobeying me, or any other kink related thing. He really thinks I’d ignore him on purpose. And that stings like nothing else I've ever felt. 
I wait and lurk while he continues to touch himself. He's bubbly and flamboyant, basking in the praise of the chat. Normally, I'd be entranced by his hand working that gorgeous shaft, now I'm getting more furious. 
Finally, with an exaggerated cry, he comes all over himself. While his hand gives a few more lazy pumps, he glances at the chat. 
Mommy: I hope that was worth it 
His eyes get wide and he sits up straight. “Shit.” 
The stream dies just as he starts calling me.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…” he whimpers before I can say anything.
“Astarion,” I cut him off. “I want you to know that I still love you and that isn't going to change. But I'm so hurt and angry right now that you could decide I would ignore you on purpose.”
“Please, I just…” 
“No, we're not going to talk about this now. I'm going to give you until I get home tomorrow to get your thoughts together. But right now I'm too angry to talk to you. So I'm going to go to bed and will call you in the morning.”
 He sobs. “No, stay on the phone with me. Please, Fina.”
I sigh and relent. “I love you, Star.”
We lay in silence for a long time, the occasional sniffle coming from his end. Finally, I'm too exhausted and have to sleep, and reluctantly tell him goodnight.  
There's a subdued call in the morning and I tell him I'll get a cab at the airport, I don't think he should be driving while that upset. Then I'm on the way home. The anger has mostly worn off but this stunt of his still hurts. 
When I get home, hev hasn't left the bed, completely naked, almost hiding under the covers. I don't even think twice before getting under them with him and pulling him to me.
“I'm sorry,” he says softly into my neck, reminding me so much of the day we first kissed. The day I'd needed to take care of him after what Cazador had done to him. 
“I know. Tell me what happened.” I bury my face in his curls and kiss his head. 
“I started getting nervous again and started to panic, and I wanted to talk to you. And I got upset that I couldn't. I know you wouldn't just ignore me.”
“Then why didn't you say you were anxious? I could have made time if I had known you were panicking.”
“I didn't want you to think I was weak. Especially after you told me that you believed in me.”
“Astarion, love, you are always going to be one of the strongest people I've ever met.” My hands rub his back, fingers finding the scars of years of his adopted father's “discipline.” “I'm sorry too, I think I pushed you into something you didn't need while you were nervous. Even if you said you were alright with it.” 
He gets quiet for a moment before answering. “It isn’t your fault. You’re always the best you can be to me.” 
“Still, maybe we should take a break from some of the more performative things.” I feel him tense and kiss his cheek to reassure him. 
“No, it makes me so happy to be like that, to be so completely yours. Don’t take that away.” 
“Let's talk some more tomorrow. There's no need to rush anything.”
“Alright. And, well, you did say that you were going to show me how much you missed me?” His voice pitches soft and breathy. 
“Astarion, you horny little gremlin,” I tease. 
“Please, Mommy. I know I was very naughty, but don't I deserve a little treat?” 
I already feel slick between my legs, even if I'm not sure that I should let him do this. 
“I know what you're thinking, but I can handle some relatively vanilla sex right now. I want to be loved.” He gives me his best wide-eyed pleading look. 
“Alright, baby.” 
I sit up, and he helps me undress, leaving kisses wherever he can reach. My hand reaches out to wrap around his stiffened cock and give a few languid strokes. I catch his eyes wandering down to my breasts with naked longing. 
Relatively vanilla, he said.
“Come here.” 
I lay back, and he follows, slotting between my legs. His cock pushes into me as his lips latch onto a nipple, and he sucks frantically. “There you go.” I stroke his hair, and he starts fucking me with wild, desperate thrusts. “That's what you needed, huh, baby.”
He whines and sucks harder, teeth scraping until pleasure blends with pain. Molten heat builds in my core with each snap of his hips, and I doubt either of us will last long. 
“So good for me,” I pant as I feel myself contract around him and my body tingle with bliss. That does it, and he gives one last jerky thrust as I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him in tight to take every drop of him. 
He collapses on top of me, still suckling, and I let him stay that way, fucked and comforted.
After a very nice Saturday in our pajamas, we talk and settle some things between us. Astarion is still very nervous about school in a couple of weeks, but doesn't want to change the things he loves about our relationship. He even insists on punishment for his bad behavior.
We agree on three days with the chastity cage, the two he originally was supposed to have and one extra. No clothing at home, so I can see it at all times. It kills me not being able to play with my wife's pretty cock. But you know, discipline hurts me more than it hurts him, or something.  
And at the end of the third day, a very serious lesson. So, I arrange something special, to be shared with his audience, like he shared his misbehavior. He's been waiting in the bedroom while I set things up.
“Safe word, wifey,” I order when I come to collect him. 
He stares at my too short, black latex dress with my pale pink strap-on visible where it rides up over my thighs, and blushes. “Objection.” 
“Good, baby.” I lead him to the living room where the camera is already at the right angle to watch as I bend him over the couch arm, pushing his face into the cushion right next to the waiting paddle. I watch him shiver with anticipation and spare a glance at the chat. They’re in rare form tonight. 
DM_ME_UR_SYRUP: Back from my two week ban just in time.  Thornyonmain: Hggnnnnnn, god he looks so good like that am I enjoying the impending pain too much Bitchybambi: Nah, he's asked for this  Demi_g0ddess : You're so right, bestie Penguino: Aww, you guys, have a little sympathy
Picking up the paddle, I run it over the curve of his ass and hear him whimper. My hand pushes down on his back, commanding and reassuring. The first smack is light and I give him a moment. He trembles but says nothing. 
Another one, slightly harder, he whines but doesn’t say anything. I keep going, watching his pale skin burst into red blossoms with each impact. I can feel him shaking under my hand and hear when he starts to cry. 
“You’re being so good,” I coo.
He sobs in response. It’s been awhile since he had a serious spanking session. I keep whispering praise as I go, letting him know how well he’s doing, how much I love him. He’s a teary mess when I’m done, and I can feel the warmth coming from his skin. 
“I’m sorry I was naughty, Mommy,” he whines through tears.
“Shh, shh, I know. I think you deserve a little reward for taking the punishment so well.”
l take the lube I have waiting and coat my fingers. He whines for a totally different reason when I spread him open and push a finger inside his tight hole.
“Fuck,” he mewls when the second one enters. 
He pants through clenched teeth while I work them inside of him, getting him ready to take me. Each stretch and flex draws a new noise and when he’s ready, I coat the strap in lube and press the tip of it against his entrance. Even with a stinging ass, he rolls his hips into it, desperate and needy. 
I gave him a little playful smack on the marks darkening to bruises. “Behave.” 
He yelps but stills. Slowly, I slide it into him, relishing each little moan as I fill him. Then my hips rock, and I thrust deeply, before stilling again. 
“Please,” he begs, desperately. 
“Please what?”
“Fuck me, Mommy.” 
I reward him with another deep thrust, and began to move my hips with a quick rhythm. Under me, Astarion is losing himself, keening wails and pleading whimpers accompany my every movement. 
I'm aware just how achingly empty I am; later we’ll take care of me. Right now, I focus on making him properly blissed out. 
I know his cock is straining against the cage, leaking helplessly, as he reaches the edge. My fingers dig into his hips and I fuck him as deep as I can until a wordless shout rips from him and his whole body is shaking again. I press my hips tight to his, as deep into him as I can while his orgasm ebbs away with multiple whimpers, only pulling out when he’s stilled. 
Turning back, I give the chat a good-bye and end the stream.
SquidDomme: He has in fact not learned anything DrowDaddyG: I think he'll try to be better, he's such a sweet boy BardlockLongdick: Maybe you all should try opening a Bible instead of this website DM_ME_UR_SYRUP: Anyone know how I can get an air horn noise to play in chat (I'm joking, please don't ban me again)
Then I remove the strap-on and save it for later clean up. “Come here, wifey,” I say, sitting on the couch. 
Sluggishly, he obeys, coming to rest his head in my lap. I run my fingers through his hair and let him come  down from the experience. 
“I love you,” he murmurs into my thighs.
“I love you too. No more bratty behavior, right?” 
I feel the little smirk he makes. “Absolutely, lesson learned.” 
We both know he's lying, but I trust none of it will be super hurtful again. “Good little wife.”
Tag list:
@micropoe10  @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21
 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin 
@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly
@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird
@satanicspinosaurus @darlingxdragon @wanderingisobel @astarionsbeloved
@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @misscrissfemmefatale @bg3obsessedsideblogg @captainaceofspades @wickedwitchofthewilds @asterordinary @talented-bitch @waking-electric @snowfolly
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amanitacurses · 3 months
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bathroomtomb · 1 year
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teeny tiny animation i made in a day for paul's birthday : )
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somehumandrawing · 7 months
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Shaped
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sherlock-is-ace · 7 months
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#i had such a horrible melt down today... god i just need this week to be over!#i burst several blood vessels around my eyes temple and nose from crying too hard and for trying to do it in silence#and i also figured out that my big smart plan of hitting myself in the head as to not leave marks nor break things doesn't work#because i now have a fucking BRUISE ON MT FOREHEAD#goddamnit#i can hide it with hair but i really need to find a different way to cope...#i used to throw shit around but years of being screamed at for breaking toys or whatever i had in my hand at the moment has forced me to#turn the destruction upon myself#cause at least i'm not breaking shit other people paid for#but damn my head still hurts and now i have to hide the stupid red spots in my hairline#if my mom finds out she will most likely kill me ahnfjsng (not really she will just scream at me and call me stupid for hurting myself#which in turn will make me hurt myself more probably...)#it's a hard thing to admit i self harm. and i never really thought of it like that but it's getting worse so i need to stop#it started with scratching myself when i was too anxious and it turned into full blown out meltdowns...#i had to fight the urge to hit my head on the wall which is scary#like it took all of my willpower and the realization that people would hear me and maybe i would draw blood which would be harder to hide#that's what made me not do it... not the fact that self harming is bad and doesn't help...#like that's a scary thought to have...#i can think about it rationally NOW but in the middle of the mess? nope hitting is the only solution#i'm exhausted and so fucking embarrassed about it#i hate living with my messed up brain#i have to leave the house tomorrow... and because i mask still the only thing vissible will be my fucked up eyes with red dots around them..#that's gonna be fucking embarrassing as hell?!#not worse than when i gabe myself a black eye tho#that wasn't self harm that was just me fainting when sick and falling face first to the floor lol#anyways... i'm off to bed i just needed to vent ahfnsjf i'm fine now#and i'm gonna do my best to find better coping mechanisms i promise#angel talks#personal#tw self harm
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sysig · 1 year
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♥!
#Title because body text is too small to encapsulate my Big Celebration#So if you've been following along the breadcrumbs of my Real Life nonsense you'll know I moved last October/November#And since then a lot of my didn't-think-at-the-time-was-that-necessary-but-actually-turned-out-to-be-pretty-frickin'-necessary Stuff#Has been back away. Yes for six months. No I'm not happy about it either but literally what am I supposed to do about it lol#And one of those things was my hammock! My bed! My reading spot! My favourite place!#Well tied for my favourite place with my rocking chair but splitting hairs really lol#And we just straight up couldn't find it - found the base! But not the cloth-and-rope part the actual hammock bit#So we bit the bullet and just bought a new one - the old one had been fraying and snapping like mad anyway so it was time#And it finally - Finally! Arrived today ouq#It feels amaaaazzzzinnnnggggg ahhhhhhhh#I really want to draw my excitement but that would require leaving it - yes I am typing this while reclined and rocking it's delightful#And the airflow! Ah!!#The only problem(s) now are well a) I never want to leave it again lol b) it's rather large#And part of the reason we couldn't locate my Various Items was because I don't have a room yet - nowhere to put it#So it's just kinda....in the way lol#And then c).....my employer asked for a night shift. Tonight. And tomorrow. Out. So I can't sleep in my hammock :') Until Sunday#So :'D#But!!! OTHER THAN THAT!!!! Lol#Most importantly going forward I have my reading spot back ahhhhhhhh AHHHHHH#I'm gonna read so much!! I have so many reading plans!!!!!!#HAMMOCK!! AHH!!#Update: She called off ahhhhhhHHHHHH
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azullumi · 1 month
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a scripture on having a certain pretty gambler as your boyfriend ; aventurine
summary — radiant and gleaming, dating him feels like basking under the golden glow of the sun, with the promise of the serene and starlit night ahead.
pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — established relationship, fluff, him as your boyfriend basically, there are no spoilers dwww, i never proofread, 1.2k words ; headcanons
note — congratulations to honkai star rail for being the only game to have aventurine!! this is day 2 of writing for this man until i have him.
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Aventurine couldn’t abandon the person that he used to be so he carried him in his hands. Always hesitant, afraid, and seemingly detached from everyone he meets—this is why he seems so distant and disconnected from you at first despite being in a relationship with him. Although he lives his whole life gambling, believing that everything happens and the outcomes gained are due to luck, he’s meticulously careful and cautious just to not get too attached to you lest he gets hurt in the end (he has dealt with the sight of people’s backs as they walk away from him multiple times).
It will take time for him to completely warm up and be vulnerable to you. Although there are moments that he lets the facade slip and he lays himself bare, moments where it’s just you and him in the silence, moments where you comfort him after a nightmare that disturbs his sleep; he doesn’t ask for comfort nor assurance often but you always seem to know when he needs it.
Aventurine loves it whenever you gently comb your hand through his hair. Even if he wasn’t vocal about the matter, you’ll know from the way he immediately relaxes under your touch as you rake your fingers through his locks. It just gives him a sense of comfort, finding serenity and affection in such a small act of intimacy; it reminds him of how simple everything could be (oh, how he wishes it was) with just the loving touch of your hands.
He’s not exactly a morning person but would always wake up early, occasionally before you do. It’s either because he has to leave for work early or it just so happens that he woke up just as the sun was rising. If he has to get ready soon, he’ll take a few minutes of his time to admire you as you sleep, to trace the bridge of your nose slowly and carefully so as to not wake you, to draw and follow the outlines of your features with his eyes. But if he has no plans for today, he’ll stay in bed with you and eventually, fall asleep once more. He holds you so close and so tight (but not tight enough to suffocate you) that it’s hard to slip away from his grasp.
You feel a pair of soft lips on your forehead, the kiss lingering for a moment until you flutter your eyes open. “Are you awake now, sleepy?” 
“Mmh…” You grumble, your vision adjusts to your surroundings as you blink multiple times. You could see Aventurine getting dressed, putting on his expensive tailored-coat.
“You’re leaving already? Why did you not wake me up?”
“You looked like you were having a nice dream.”
MATCHING PAJAMAS (heck yeah!!). The time when he saw you wearing one of his pajamas, it felt like something had been flipped inside of him and the thought of getting you one for your own that matches his fills each and every corner of his mind. Although all of the matching things you have with him are not just limited to pajamas—it can range from matching jewelry, matching charms, matching clothing, matching glasses, matching everything. God, he goes into a store, sees something that he likes and asks the staff if they have another one but in a different color that you like.
Perhaps you have never noticed (or maybe you have) but he never wears his glasses whenever he’s around you—when there’s only you and him. There was no need to hide anything from you, not when you adore all parts of his being. He melts whenever you compliment him (he’s a sucker for such words of affection) especially when it’s his eyes, loves the way you look at him as if he was everything you wish for.
He’ll often play games with you or initiate a bet but somehow, he has more losses than wins. “You’re cheating!” You’ll say, pointing at him as if you were an attorney from a game that objects to a statement. Aventurine, however, would stare at you in disbelief (though he’s just feigning innocence) and would answer with a raised eyebrow: “How am I the one cheating when you’re winning?” To which you’ll respond with: “That’s because you’re letting me win. You’re not playing fair, Aven.”
SPOILS YOU A LOT and when I say a lot, I mean A LOT. Everything you'll ask for or even just mention in passing, he'll provide. He randomly sends you pockets of money, a notification on your phone lighting up your screen and the text says: You have received 100, 000 credits. You have to get used to it—it’s one of the ways that he shows his affection to you. He wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer whenever he gives you something either, so, you have to take it or else you’ll have to deal with a sulky man the whole day. 
Don’t worry though as he ensures that everything that he buys and gets for you is something you would like—expensive meaningless gifts will always be meaningless, he would rather give you a cheap yet beautiful charm that is of your favorite color or flower than an expensive shiny necklace made out of gold and adorned with diamonds which you’ll never wear because it’s too heavy on your neck or it’s not your preference.
On that note, he also likes seeing you wear the things he bought for you. Maybe it’s obvious, maybe it’s not, but he likes to dress you up, likes to see you put on the clothes he picks for you. Dates where he brings you to a boutique to pick clothes together (for both you and him), dress up, and ask each other if they look good is not so rare between you two. It’s silly but the two of you would end up giggling like children when the other would strike a ridiculous pose to show off what they're wearing (and also, with the intention to make one another laugh); he lives for and craves these moments with you.
Brings you together with him to casinos and lets you watch him while he plays as he regards you as his lucky charm (when he’s actually the one who is lucky here). Whenever he wins a game or a bet, he asks for a kiss from you—he taps on his cheek as an indication of his request but he will not force you if you don’t wish to express such affections in public, rather he’ll ask for something else instead like maybe a smile or ask that you hold his hand. Sometimes, if you’re curious enough, he’ll teach you the fundamentals of the game and what you can do to win. The look of pride on his face says it all as he watches you win and your opponent falls to the floor (you just put someone in debt).
The amount of endearing names that he calls you. If ever you get flustered whenever he calls you with those affectionate endearments, he’ll take the chance to tease you, to repeatedly call you with such names until you throw a pillow or any object at him—he catches it though but will apologize while laughing, saying that he won’t do it again.
You have to be understanding and gentle with him, careful as you tread the light, lest you fall into the dark and see that the tall and strong walls he built around himself is nothing compared to the broken and fragile pieces that are sewn on his skin, and he will leave (out of fear, out of anxiety, out of grief, out of self-hatred). But it’s alright, everything will be, you’ll embrace him even in the abyss and you’ll guide him back to your warmth.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works
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gojonanami · 3 months
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❝ 𝐒𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘, 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 ! ❞
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❝ HONESTLY, I CAN'T BELIEVE I GET TO CALL YOU MINE !! ❞
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✧ pairing: professor! suguru geto x reader
✧ summary: it's your first valentine's day as a couple with suguru, but he's away for a conference in another city -- and you understand you do, but you can't help but miss him -- so what happens when he ends up surprising you?
✧ warnings: so fluffy!!, suggestive, mentions of nsfw, implications of smut, reader has graduated from her program, set after the events of the main series (including every part), these two idiots are so in love its ridiculous, lingerie mention, wearing his glasses and button down
✧ wc: 1,206
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“I’m sorry I have to be away,” you smile at Suguru through the screen, knowing that you’d kiss his furrowed brow away if he was here, before finding his lips with yours. “This conference was last minute, I wish I didn’t have to go, but Yaga left me little choice but to go,” 
You shake your head, “We can celebrate when you come back, it’s not a big deal anyway. Just means you have more to make up for on White Day,” you tease, and he laughs, a smile on his lips for the first time the entire call, “don’t worry ok? I’m really not upset,” 
“I know, it’s just our first Valentines together and I know you had planned something for us. I really wanted it to be special,” his lips purse, arms crossed as he looks almost utterly hopeless (far too cute) and you can’t help but chuckle, “what?” 
“Never thought my hardass professor could be such a romantic,” you smirk, as his cheeks are tinted with a lovely red, “should I be giving you a poor grade for your tardiness?” 
He rolls his eyes, as his lips curl again in a smile that can’t seem to escape your presence, “Well, while I’ll definitely be making it up with some extra credit, I’d appreciate my favorite student to cut me a little slack,” 
“I recall you cutting me very little slack that first day,” 
“On the contrary, I think I was very kind, especially considering you were late to the very first class—“ 
“And what is this weekend?” You say in mock thought, “our first Valentine’s Day?” He huffs, and you smile in victory, “is this the first headache I’ve given you?” 
“Today? Yes,” and you gape at him, and it’s his turn to smirk, “I love you,” 
And your gaze grows soft, “I love you too, call me after the conference is done for today?” 
“You know I will,” and you both share your goodbyes and you’re left by yourself, as you lay back on your bed, a pout on your lips. Suguru had offered to let you stay at his place, but you know it would have only made you miss him more — being surrounded by his things, his scent, his clothes. You sighed as you buried your face in your pillow, glancing at the picture the two of you had taken in Kyoto at one of the local shrines, almost taunting you. 
He’d be back soon enough — right? 
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Sorry I haven’t been able to call again. It’s been a lot of late nights — too many networking dinners. I’ll call you tonight. 
It has been two nights now, and it was Valentine’s Day tomorrow. You had barely gotten a minute to speak to Suguru since your call with him on Friday. You sighed, sending him a picture of you in his button up you stole, along with his spare glasses he had left at your place, can we have a networking meeting? I’ll send an invite to your calendar. 
I’ll clear my schedule. You smile. 
Another message, as soon as I get back. 
You pout, you expected as much — you shouldn’t have dated such an indemand academic. The horrors of academia. 
You laid back, forearm over your forehead as you stare back at your blank ceiling. It was fine, you really understood that he was busy, but you just — turning on your side to stare at his smiling face in the framed image on your bedside table before your eyes flutter shut — missed him. 
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You stir awake to lips pressed at your neck, soft kisses that draw you from the heavy arms of sleep, as your eyes flutter open to see Suguru, at your side. 
“Sugu?” And his fingers trace your jaw, as your brow furrows in confusion, “but isn’t it—“ 
“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” he pulls a bouquet of flowers from behind him — an arrangement of your favorites, as you blink, brain seemingly struggling to keep up, “you okay?” 
Your fingers find his cheek, “is this a dream?” And he chuckles, as he leans down to plant a sweet kiss on your lips, before his fingers lightly pinch your cheek. And you’re sitting up only to jump into his arms, a gasp on his lips, as he chuckles, arms curling around you, raking his fingers through your hair. The bouquet lays forgotten on the side because truly the best gift was in your arms. 
“I missed you too,” he chuckles, as you bury your face in his chest, breathing in his scent, as if he’d disappear any second. 
You lean back to look up at him, “What are you doing back early?” 
“Made a deal with Yaga that I’d go to all the networking events he wanted, if he let me leave last night,” he kisses your forehead, “surprised?” 
“I am, the best surprise,” you find his lips in another kiss, “I was fine with you being busy, but I just missed you so much. It reminded me of all the time we had to spend apart — and I just know I can’t spend another minute without you,” you bite your lip, “I was going to wait until the end of the night, but,” you bite your lip, “I know we discussed moving in before — and I think I’m ready to,” 
He blinks, before a smile breaks out on his lips, “Are you sure?” And you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, lips sliding against his, as your hands slide back to cup his cheeks. 
You part, barely a breath apart, as you press your forehead against his, “Never been more sure of anything in my life — it’s definitely owed to us now, don’t you think?” 
He snorts, his eyes shining, as he presses another gentle kiss to your forehead, “Should we start looking for a place now?” And you grin, as you climb into his lap, a tilt of your head. 
“Don’t you want your Valentine’s Day gift?” You ghost kisses along his jawline, drawing a gasp from his lips, your hands guiding his own under his shirt you had stolen, “I had worn it last night just to try it on, but now,” you undo a few buttons of his shirt, a hint of red lace peeking through the undone collar. 
His clothed cock twitches through his slacks, as his fingers pull yours away, to undo the last remaining buttons to show a red and pink lingerie set — red lace hugged the outline of body with red hearts dotting along the design, sheer blush fabric left barely anything of your breasts and cunt to the imagination — not that he needed to imagine — he had practically memorized every curve and corner of your body. 
“Well?” And his fingers pull his shirt off of your body, as he’s gotten you pinned to the bed, as you giggle, lips parted, “I also baked you some sweet treats, baby,” 
His lips curl, as he leans down to meet your lips, as his breath warms your lips and his words warm your heart, “There’s only one sweet thing I want, right now.” 
The two of you never did get around to looking for a place together — not until the next day. 
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✧ a/n: this was supposed to come out earlier, but i fell asleep because i slept badly last night and ended up reading a manhwa when i got tired of trying to sleep. wrote this fic listening to laufey's valentine :) i also didn't tag everyone since this was kind of a last minute thing - sorry guys <;3
✧ taglist: @spider-fan72, @grunge-mo0n, @ameri-blog, @kentocalls, @peachyminx, @forest-fruits-jam, @hanxyy, @flyingtranscatofeffed, @sunflowmaryam, @regrettinglifechoices, @sugurus-fave-monkey, @atomicbxtch, @shinylightsalad
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reiderwriter · 6 months
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Dirty Cops
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: With a dirty cop killing women in the BDSM community running loose you and Spencer have to devise an equally dirty plan to catch him in the act.
Warnings: Kintober Day 22 - S&M, BDSM themes, public sex, oral sex, exhibitionism, bathroom sex, interrupted sex (both of them are cockblocked by the job).
A/N: I'M BACK! Sorry for the delay. This is the fic that has been beating my ass for about two weeks now. I fear I put too much detail into the case, and now I'm 6k words deep into a part one of a fic that should've been a 3k standalone.... oops! I hope you enjoy~
You sat in your office hands on your forehead as you desperately searched for the solution to your problems. 12 women, 12 homicides that VICAP had just spotted were easily similar. All in the same jurisdiction, and yet no connections made by their police force.
Something was going on in Tampa, and you needed to get to the bottom of it before another person died. 
You supposed it didn't really help that some of the women had died in some pretty unorthodox ways. Strangulation, blunt force trauma, evidence of rope burns, and having been held hostage but not for long. Things your team was familiar with, but local detectives usually couldn't stomach.
As the BAU's brand new liaison officer, you got the job of convincing the local law enforcement to invite you in. They certainly weren't making it easy for you. 
"Listen, I'm telling you there's something here, sir, if you'd just check the case files. We're only trying to help."
"You're trying to stick your nose in my departments business because you think your fancy FBI agents can handle my cases better than me." 
"Sir, with all due respect -" 
"Fine, you think you can come find whoever whacked these street whores you come and do it." You took in a sharp breath and paused, trying to make sure if you were hearing him correctly. 
"What do you mean by whores, Captain? Choose your words very carefully." The warning was a bonus, knowing your voice had already done such a 180 he was probably regretting his previous word choices. As far as you knew none of the victims were wex workers. They mainly had office jobs or were even stay ah hone mom's.
"Each and every one of these women were jezebel's. Cheating, doing dirty things while showing their faces in church. They attended a certain establishment, not a Christian one, if you understand what I'm telling you, Miss." 
"It's Agent, actually, and if you ever leave these details out of a case file ever again, I'll make sure to have your badge pinned up on my wall like a hunting trophy. Are we clear, Captain?" He stuttered out a yes, but you cut him off quickly. 
"My team and I will arrive later today. Expect us for lunch." You said, slamming the receiver down and finally releasing a huff of breath you'd been saying for emergencies. 
A whistle from the door finally draws your attention after a few minutes. 
"Okay, Y/N," JJ clapped, looking impressed. "Who pissed you off?" 
"Just the Captain at the precinct who just very politely invited us to consult on our next case." You threw the file in her direction as she set down the coffee she'd bought you, picking it up to peruse it. "Where's Hotch? I need to tell him we've got to go now before they change their minds." 
"You know you want to say it," she teased as you began walking out of the office to find your elusive boss. 
"Ha. Sure. Wheels up in 30, Jennifer." She raised her coffee in a salute to you as you finally took off, getting ready to go to war against an unhelpful police precinct. 
–X– 
With all the time you don't have, you end up briefing the team on the jet. You have to stand and grab the edge of the table as you try not to pace up and down the aisle. 
"Twelve victims, all women between the ages of 20 to 28. He's crossing race lines, so I don't think they're placeholders." In all honesty, this case had pissed you off. 
Twelve dead women and no one seemed to care until you phoned the department up yourself when VICAP flagged it all with you. Half of the cases had been closed for lack of evidence, and the other half so poorly investigated that you knew it was only a matter of time before they got boxed up and shelved too. 
"The general public in Zephyrhills doesn't even know they have a serial killer. No one is being told to exert caution. There's no local press on this either." 
"It says that these women were all killed, but there's no viable DNA they could pick up?" Morgan asks, looking up at you. 
"That's right, no DNA evidence can be lifted, but spermicide was found on three of the victims." 
"So our unsub was wearing a condom. He came prepared, and we were dealing with a serial rapist who has bridged into murdering his victims." 
"There was no spermicide found on the other nine victims?" Emily looks up at you from her place at the small table. 
"No. Rape test kits weren't run on any of the other victims because, quote: 'it was pretty obvious what had happened.' The precinct waited too long to collect the DNA evidence  and now we don't have enough to locate, let alone prosecute an unsub based on DNA."
The whole team shared in your stressed look then, sending you matching sympathetic glances as they suddenly understood the herculean task you'd taken on trying to convince the locals to invite you in. 
Not noticing the awkward silence that fell on the group, Spencer spoke up quickly from his place, standing beside you. 
"You know, Zephyrhills is only about an hour away from Tampa. Tampa is the number one hook up spot in the US. It's residents boast on average 14 orgasms a month instead of the nationwide average of 12.5." He seemed pleased with the knowledge he'd just let everyone in on, as you looked back on him.
"Right. So our guy is trying to get his rocks off to out gun the rest of the country. Thanks, Spencer." 
"It's relevant. It's says in the casefile here that three of our victims were last spotted on the highway making their way to Tampa, but then their bodies were found dumped in Zephyrhills. What if he's following them?"
"Spencer has a point, but if he's following them, what gets them to turn around? The cars were found abandoned in Zephyrhills, too, none of these women made it to Tampa." Hotch adds, and you make eye contact with him as your next thought comes to you. 
"What could get someone to stop on a highway?" You ask, the question so simple, every single one of them knew the answer before you'd even finished asking.
"A cop." JJ filled in, and you all sat silently as you realised how dangerous this next case could truly be. 
"We're about an hour out from arrival, everyone get some rest for now, I'm going to make a call to the nearest FBI Field Office, see if any of this is on their radar."
You slunked back to your seat at the back of the jet and sat down again, trying to get comfy but ending up just shifting multiple times in your seat.
Spencer joined you, sitting beside you, so close you could feel his eyes on you as your leg began to bounce. He put his hand over it and, with a strong hand, stilled the movement. 
"Y/N, you did a good job connecting these cases." His voice was meek and calming, and you'd generally very much appreciate it if his hand weren't sending your body through some serious loops right then. 
Your leg was on fire where he was touching you, his hand hot even through the fabric of your clothes. But when he pulled the hand away, watching your legs for any further tremors, you felt the need to snatch it back and replace it on your leg, certain that it would sooth the burning once more. 
You snapped yourself out of it quickly. If you were thinking this way about Spencer of all people, then you really needed to get laid. 
"Tampa's population consists of 43% singles, you know. Good statistics for getting laid." You twisted your head around to meet his eyes again.
"Tell me I didn't say that outloud." But his small smile dashed your hopes as you realised you just admitted to feeling incredibly horny because of his hand on your knee. 
"If it's any consolation, I'm definitely the only one who heard it." His hand fell back to your thigh, and you twitched as it did, but you didn't move him. 
"Fucking floridians and their goddamn 14 orgams a month," you muttered under your breath, hoping that he wasn't paying any attention to you now, seeing as how he'd opened up a book to hold in one hand. 
"Lucky if I get even one and Florida man has 14 in him." You continue mumbling as you try to get cosy, closing your eyes and moving your head to find a comfortable position. 
“You definitely said that one out loud.” He laughed, and you threw up your middle finger while letting your head fall back and your body take the rest it needed. 
Without opening your eyes, you decided you needed the last word, a phenomenon you often found occurring in Spencer’s presence. 
“A gentleman would pretend to not have heard that, Spencer.”
“I’m not a gentleman.” Annoyance prickled you at his reply, but you were too tired to say anything more as you caught up with the sleep that had been evading you for weeks. 
–X–
Your landing in Florida comes almost too soon, and Hotch delegates tasks before you’ve even had the chance to properly get your feet beneath you after so long in the sky. 
This case was becoming more of a mindfield with each of the pieces of information you’d received. Upon getting off of his call with the FBI Field Office closest to Zephryhills, Hotch had informed the team about an ongoing investigation into the police captain’s wife, whose pseudo-Christian church group were spewing vitriol about damn near every group you could think of. 
“Religious discrimination, racism, sexism, homophobia and some pretty screwed up views of basically everything else, too.” Penelope had informed the group, pulling up the files that had been sent to her.
“It seems their most recent project is… Oh, how relevant. An adult establishment just opened up on the outskirts of Tampa, right on the highway that connects it to Zephyrhills. And from the boasts of the club owner on social media, it seems he’s telling anyone who listens that he’s not going to get shut down because the police are his main clientele.” 
She sent through links to some of the posts to your iPads, and you angled the thing towards Spencer so he could take in the new information as well. 
“Could we be looking at a religious motive to the murders? You said that the police captain called these women Jezebels. The name is biblical, she was a Queen who worshipped a false god and was defenestrated because of it, but over time, the uncapitalised jezebel, as you know, tended to refer to women with loose morals.”
“The motives could still be religious, but these women were raped. It says in the case files that Mrs. James’s church group is solely comprised of women, mostly the wives of the officers in the police force.” 
Again, everything was leading you back to this stupid police precinct. You grimmaced as you realised that the next few weeks were going to be spent on the edge watching your back. 
“Y/N, Reid, I want you both with me at the precinct when we land. Morgan, JJ, go to the church and interview some of the ladies there, see if you can’t push some buttons. Emily, Rossi, some of the family’s of the victims got in touch with the field office to request inquiries, go anf find out whatever you can about the last known whereabouts of these women.” 
Now bracing yourself, you set your face in a neutral expression and let Spencer hold the door open for you as you walked into the station. 
“Hello, we’re the agents from the FBI. Where can we find your captain?” You ask the receptionist at the chatting to her desk, but just as you finish your inquiry, another officer cuts you off, stepping half in front of you and demanding some files from the woman. 
She stands awkwardly, sending you an apologetic glance as she scurries off to go and complete whatever busy work he’s just given her as you quietly seeth at his back. 
The officer turns around to you and grins, sending you a smile as he walks off, apparently pleased with himself for foiling your attempts to find his boss. 
“Y/N, keep a cool head. The captain’s office seems to be just ahead, I’m going to go and see if he’s there, smooth out some of the issues they seem to be having over here with our presence.” You nod and stay back with Spencer, who takes a quick seat behind you. 
You don’t sit, though, too on edge and pissed off to get comfortable now. 
The officers seem to ignore the two of you, bustling around you with no sense of shame, but you can tell they're watching you, hearing the low murmur of whispers. 
When one of them decides to out their hands on you, though, you've decided you've had enough.
"Sorry, little lady, I need to get through. Important police business." He practically Leeds down at you as his hands grab your waist, meaning to move you aside to her you out of his path. 
You don't give him the chance, grabbing his hands from your hips and twisting them behind his back quickly, shoving him face first into the nearest desk. 
"Fuck, you little bitch. Come and control your partner, man." He struggles in your grasp, signalling to Spencer. 
You grin as Spencer doesn't even look up at him, having pulled out a copy of War and Peace and settling nicely in his seat. You could tell he was on edge though, had seen the slight way his body tensed when you'd first been touched, and knew that if you'd needed it, he'd be there backing you up in a second. 
"Sorry, are you talking to me?" He finally said, still not looking up from his book. 
"Yes, get this bitch off of me." 
"If you ask her nicely, I'm sure Agent Y/N would release you. As for me, I'm certainly not making her do anything she doesn't want to." He grinned as he said it, and you rolled your eyes slightly.
"Maybe if you told some of these other agents here to stop looking at her likes, she's a hunk of meat and greeted her respectfully instead of calling her… little lady, was it? Maybe then she'd be more generous." The man grumbled beneath you again, but before you could actually force his hand, Hotch and the Captain were exiting his office, obviously alerted by the crashing sound you'd made. 
"Reid, Y/N, that's enough." Hotch signalled, and you complied, letting the man go and stepping back to Reid's side. He'd stood now, squaring his shoulders and making use of his quite intimidating height. You must seem tense, though, because the second you settle next to him, he puts a hand on your lower back, and you're surprised at how calm you instantly become. 
Earlier, his touch had been fire and ice, and now it was relaxing you beyond belief. What the hell was wrong with your body recently? 
"Thank you, sir," the officer said, straightening, dusting off his uniform as he levelled a glare at both you and Spencer. "I was beginning to think the FBI was just a bunch of sissy's and menstruators-" 
"Cut the crap." Hotch barked out, and even you were startled by the sound. "Captain, if you or any member of your precinct says anything further about any member of my team, or god forbid puts a hand on them, I'll personally make sure this office is charged with conspiracy to murder for not investigating these deaths and aggravated assault of a federal officer. Do I make myself clear?" 
The man seemed displeased at having his badge threatened for a second time in 24 hours, but nodded, dismissed the other officer, and finally shut up. 
He has the female receptionist from earlier show you to the room you'd be using for your investigation for the next few weeks. 
After  making sure the room is secure, you place a call to Penelope and the others trying to gauge if they'd found any further leads. 
"Some of the family members know exactly where they were going that night. One of them had a husband, said he was going with her, that they drove in separate cars because it was part of the thrill of it all." Emily's voice sounded tense and frustrated, and you could only sympathise silently before jumping in to ask her more questions.
"I thought they said it was an adult establishment? Does that not mean strip club?" You asked, perplexed at why the married couple would be going together. 
"No, from what I can tell, it seems these women were members of the BDSM community, and that place… is somewhere they can practice." 
"So even if we do somehow get another victim, any DNA test could be questionable evidence because they all left to have consensual sex." You sighed out and ran a stressed hand through your hair.
On your call with JJ and Morgan, you got much of the same. 
"Oh, they're angry, alright. About the immigrants and the drug dealers, the homosexuals, and the jezebels. Seems they're working hard to get the club closed not just because it's a house of sin but also because the man who owns it might be an illegal immigrant."
"How quaint and Christian of them."
"Yep, and get this, the club's official title? Women for the Grace of God. There were no men in this group, Y/N. We're not going to find our unsub here." 
Hanging up, you let your head hang, the fatigue of the case really kicking your ass. 
"Spencer, draw the blinds, Y/N, lock the doors." Hotch ordered, and you listened, quickly making sure that no one was even close to the door. Returning to your seat, you noted the tense set of your boss's jaw and decided that whatever he had to say wasn't going to be good. 
"Our unsub is in this precinct, which means we're not safe. But it also puts us in a unique position. They don't know we suspect them yet. We can force the unsubs hand." 
You straightened in your chair, listening closer. 
"You want to bait them out?" Spencer asked from his place beside you. 
"I want you two to bait them out. You already got under a few of the officers' skin, push a few more buttons, and we could get our unsub to slip up." 
"And how are we supposed to do that?" You asked, heart thumping in anticipation. You thought you already knew, but you needed to hear the words from his mouth to be sure. 
"They're going after women in the BDSM lifestyle. Let's convince them that the two of you are also similarly involved." 
He turned and left you with the decision then, leaving you and Spencer in the small room alone. 
Your palms were sweaty, and you refused eye contact for a few minutes before he finally cracked and gave in first.
"It'd work." He whispered, suddenly closer than you remembered. 
"What?" 
"It would work. Whoever this guy is, he's getting off on dominating these women, seeing another man that he deems physically inferior dominating a woman who's already kicked an officers ass… that's enough to get him to crumble, slip up."
"So I'm supposed to just bend over and take it?"
"Bend over, yes, but I usually prefer women to be a bit bratty." 
"What?" You found yourself blinking up at his face, even as the door swung open again, another officer walking into the small room you'd been left in. 
You stepped away from Reid slightly, putting a more appropriate distance between the two of you before the man started talking. 
"Well hello, I heard we had some feds in the office, thought I'd come introduce myself, but I didn't hear we had such a beautiful woman here, too. She a witness?" He directed the question to Spencer, but his leering eyes never left your body, trailing down slowly and disgustingly as you tried not to shudder under his gaze. 
"I'm Doctor Spencer Reid, this is my partner, Agent Y/N. How can we help you?"
"Oh, I'm all set on my medicals, doc. You can't help me. Maybe she can if you let me take her out for a test drive?" Your blood boiled as he said those words, and you were about to send a cutting reply back to the man, when Spencer sat back down in his seat, snaking an arm around your waist to take you with him.
"Sorry, I don't lend out my private property." Stunned, you tried to act naturally about your new position, but his hand on your thigh slashes your brain capacity down by half, the only thought in your head running through Spencer Reid's possible sexual preferences. 
"Oh, I see how it is. She's a slut, just not that kind. Okay, I'll bite, what's this one into? Choking, spanking? Careful, don't go too far or you'll be prime suspect number one for our perp." 
"What are you insinuating, officer?"
"That these sluts you're asking about got in over their heads. Some women like it rough, practically beg for it. Poor guy just did what they were asking." Biting your tongue, you let the man keep digging his own hole, as Spencer kept him talking.
"Actually, contrary to popular opinion, in most sado-masochistic relationships, the submissive partner is the one in control. They have power to stop whatever role play is going on in the scene through safe words and actions, and the dominant role is more of a protective role, requiring a deep level of commitment and care for their sub." As he said it, he turned your face to his, hooking a finger under your chin and then stroking your face as you fell further into his body. 
You almost forgot the other officer was there until you heard his grumbled reply, turning your head slightly to whisper in Reid's ear. 
"Long shot, Doc." With that, you climbed from his lap, turning back to the other officer with a grin. 
"Sorry, was there anything professional we could help you with? Or would you like to go and deal with your little problem alone in the men's bathroom now?" He turned on his heels and exited swiftly, face red with rage at your insinuations. 
"Okay. I'll admit, it's going to work. But we're going to need to set up some bait and deliver the profile to them to make sure we have each and every one of their attentions."
"I'll notify, Hotch." 
"Spencer, wait." He stopped at the door and turned back to listen to you. "Earlier when you said… when you mentioned that you'd prefer…" You tried to ask the question  but it seemed the question just wasn't going to form on your lips  so you simply let out a small frustrated humph and let him figure out the rest. 
"Y/N, I… I don't know how to answer that question and still act professionally around you."
He left the room shortly after, and you couldn't help but feel disappointed at the distance suddenly kept between the two of you. You were beginning to become much too distracted by Spencer Reid.
–X– 
"Let's have another rundown again, just so we're all clear on the play by play on this." Morgan said as you and Spencer were wired up, ready for your operation. 
It wasn't exactly undercover, but it wasn't quite straight police work either, but here you were. After giving the profile earlier, you'd noted that three of the officers had seemed a little bit fidgety under all the new information they were getting, all three of them matching your profile. 
Unluckily for you, they just happened to be the Captain in charge of the precinct, Detective Handsy from your first trip into the office, and Detective Dumbass, who'd asked you and Spencer all about BDSM earlier that day. 
Penelope had filled you in on each of their backgrounds. The Captain was second generation police force, but court of public opinion had ruled that his father wasn't exactly an upstanding guy, a report corroborated by his mother's multiple accidents and trips to the ER. Detective Handsy had a misdemeanour sex crime expunged from his juvenile record for masturbating in public - on the unconscious girl who sat next to him on the bus.
Detective Dumbass seemed to be the police contact for all the local prostitutes. He'd busted at least thirty in three months, and each of them had reportedly tried to turn him in as the John who'd paid for their services. 
"Run through it again." Morgan brought you down to earth as JJ finished attaching the wire under your clothing, handing you the small in ear so you could hear updates from the team. 
"We walk into the bar, get a little too close for comfort than they'd like, then ask the bartender where we can have some fun around here. She's been prepped to give us the answer we want, and we set out on the highway where Rossi and Hotch are waiting in unmarked cars to give us an escort until our unsub takes the bait and tries to pull us over." 
"Good, now, Spencer, do I have to show you where to put your hands, or do you think you've read enough to figure out how to push the right buttons?" From the grin on his face, it was evident he was enjoy pushing the younger man's buttons  but you could tell he wasn't doing it maliciously. The two of you were both tense and on edge, and you needed that waylaid somehow. 
"Trust me, Morgan, I think he knows where his fingers should go." You said before grabbing Spencer’s hand and dragging him out of the vehicle, not letting him go until you were right by the door of the bar. 
You didn't really let him go either, it's more like he caught up to you and moved his hand from yours to your ass instead, pulling you closer into his body as you made to move inside the bar. 
He hesitated a moment outside, though.
"Y/N, we haven't talked about boundaries yet. I'm going to have to touch you in there and-"
"You have my permission. For anything." Your words come faster than you expect, but they're there, filling the silence of the night quickly. 
"Anything?" He asks, a small play lighting up his lips as he pulls you in closer. You can feel his breath on your skin, and you almost take back your words until he lowers his head. Your lips are barely an inch apart and getting slowly closer as you angle your head up towards him, when the bar doors swing open and he turns and pulls you inside instead. 
You recover quickly, trying to focus on the twelve women who need to find justice rather than the many things you suddenly want Spencer Reid to be doing to you. 
You slide into a booth at the edge of the bar  but you'd canvassed the place earlier, knowing that while it appeared to be a quiet corner, every other table had a clear view of your actions in the corner. 
Surely enough  you felt a few pairs of eyes on you as you sat down, a little closer for comfort than you expected.
"Well, Penelope's sources were correct. It seems like every cop in town is here tonight." You said, whispering the words into Spencer's neck, just above where his own wire was placed, making sure the words were heard by both him and the members of your team left in the surveillance van. 
"Show time," he said, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips as you stood. He gave your ass a quick slap as you made to walk towards the bar, and you sent him back a wink as you walked to order your drinks. 
Ordering them quickly, you took a simple scan of the room, noting that all three of your suspects were social butterflies tonight. They all sat on different tables, but each had at least another man with him, and every single one of them was looking at you presitorially. 
Returning to your seat with the drinks, you never felt their gazes leave you. 
"Certainly caught their attention. What now?" You asked hesitantly, sliding up against Spencer’s body again. 
"Now we give them a show." He said, snaking a hand between your legs and forcing them apart gently. You'd changed into a shorter skirt and smaller top before coming back out, needing to look the part of the slut they'd already deemed you. 
You smiled up at Spencer as he stoked your thigh suggestively, but he never moved it further up. 
"Spencer, kiss me." You said, eyelids heavy as you begged the man to take you further than touching. 
"Why?" He asked softly in your ear.
"Because a few of our suspects are getting restless, and I want to see if we can tip some of them over the edge. Obviously you're smarter than trying to stick your hand up my skirt in public surrounded by a group of cops who would happily stick you in a cell for the night for public indecency, so you're just going to have to stick your tongue down my throat." 
"Here I was thinking maybe you wanted it," he grumbled but complied anyway, grabbing the back of your head with his free hand and pulling you towards him. The kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle the way his caresses were. It was hot and it was demanding, and when he pulled away after a minute and your lips followed his desperate for more  he grabbed your hair and pulled you backwards, baring your neck to him easily as he moved his lips down slightly. 
Opening your eyes then, you again surveyed the bar, noting that the Captain and his friends were leaving, sending a stink eyed glare in your direction as they threw down their cups and left. 
"Morgan, get eyes on the Captain. Make sure he goes home and stays there," you breathe out quietly, waiting to hear the affirmative in your ear as Spencer kept his head buried at your neck. 
In another second, he was off you, taking a swig only his drink as he smoothed your hair down again. You do your best to ignore the history pooling between your legs and the haze clouding up your brain as you stare at him swallow the drink, watching a small stream of the soda you'd ordered him instead run down his chin. 
You watched it fall and, in a moment of thoughtlessness, pressed forward to lap it up from his neck. He'd spent time marking you. What harm could this do now? 
However you rationalised it, you knew it was just an impulse, one greatly rewarded by his hands pulling your hips over his and a growl in your ears. 
"Anything?" Was the only thing he said, and you pulled away to look into his eyes again before he pulled you in for another kiss. 
"Sorry to interrupt, love bunnies, but we've had a change of plan. Two of our suspects are out, and they've bailed and been safely and discreetly escorted home by FBI agents from the field office. Hotch and Rossi are on the way back. He thinks we can nail him in there and get him to act out." 
Pulling back from the kiss long enough to whisper your reply to Morgan into Spencer's mic, you can barely tear your eyes away from the man. 
"What do you want us to do?" 
"Men's bathroom is free. Hotch thinks if we make it look like you're doing something less than holy in there that it could force his hand. Especially because he's shown voyeuristic tendencies in the past."
"Shit. Detective Dumbass?" 
"Only one left. And his name is Dunbar. You'd do well to remember that in the paperwork."
Pulling yourself up and out of Spencer's lap, you took a swig of your drink again as you stood. 
"Follow me in three minutes." He grabs you by your wrist and turns you back around to him again, though before you can leave.
"Y/N, we're going to get this guy. After we do, I think we should talk." Instead of answering him, you pressed another lingering kiss to his lips and moved out again, heading directly to the dark corridor where the bathrooms were. 
You slipped into the men's easily enough, thankful that it was empty. It was a single stall, and when you heard the knock on the door two minutes later, you were suddenly thankful that it was, because it meant that you could lock the door behind him and not risk anyone else coming in while you baited your unsub.
Spencer placed a hand to his lips as soon as he made it through the door, pulling out his phone to type out a message to you without speaking. 
"Followed me. Think he's listening outside." 
You pulled your own out to answer him.
"Let's give him a show then."
The both of you discarded your phones on the countertop of the bathroom and suddenly collided again, as if you were two magnets who could no longer resist the pull. 
Your lips fought hungrily, and now you didn't pull back your voice  letting all the moans of pleasure fall from your mouth and fill the bathroom.
His hands were on you in an instant, pushing you back against the door, letting the creep behind the wall hear as much as possible as his hips found yours and you started grinding against him like your life depended on it. 
You could no longer tell what you were doing for the case, and what you were doing out of the simple desire to do so, wrapped up in all of the pleasure he was giving you in that minute. And that was before he started talking. 
"You like that, whore? You like feeling my hands on you out here in this dirty bathroom." You clenched around nothing, even as his hands trailed lower, reaching the top of your skirt just as you replied. 
"Yes, I like that, Daddy. Please touch me more." 
You crashed together again, even as Spencer's hand fell inside your skirt and panties suddenly reaching for your clit. You forgot everything. The bathroom, the unsub, the wire you were wearing. When his hands were on you your only thoughts were him. 
You gasped in delight as he began rubbing you, moaning out heartily, not bothering to restrain your voice. Even if there was not a murderer on the other side of the door, you'd have wanted everyone to know how good he was making you feel. 
"Kneel," he says, and you listen, getting down to the dirty floor for him and looking up at him innocently.
"Now what, sir?" You ask, teasing him with a smile. He gives your face a light slap in reply, but the sound is sharp, and you can hear some movement outside. You don't get to think about it for too long, however, as he suddenly removes his cock from his pants. 
"Suck" is all the instruction you need before you're taking him into your mouth and wrapping your tongue around him. 
After the entire night of teasing, you don't have to be told twice. You take him down your throat until you're gagging, but he puts his hands on your head and pushes you further anyway. 
"That's it, baby, such a nice little slut just for me." He holds your hair as he begins fucking your face, softly whispering insults into the quiet bathroom. 
"Perfect little slut, letting me do this here. For anyone to see and hear how much you like my dick down your throat. I should unlock this door, show everyone how nicely you take my cock."
You moan around him, desperately gripping his thigh as you struggle to breathe. He finally pulls out, pulling you up by your hair until you're face to face with him again, saliva dripping from your mouth. 
"Is that how you like it?" He asks, and you nod fervently.
"Yes, sir. Please fuck me now, I've been such a good little girl." 
He turns you and presses you against the door again. As you turn your ear to it, you can hear some pacing outside of it as he lifts up your skirt.
You were ready to feel this perfect bliss, right up to the moment Morgan decided to remind you of the task at hand. 
"Hotch is here. We've got him cornered. Great acting, guys. We're thinking if Y/N exits the bathroom now, we can catch him trying to carry her off." 
His hands stilled on you, and you both stared guiltily into each other's eyes. You kept your sounds up, definitely acting now, feeling as though you'd just been doused in ice-cold water.
Footsteps retreating down the hall had you suddenly nodding in response to each other, faking your orgasm with one last large gasp followed by a few minutes of silence and you straightened your clothes ready to bait the unsub once again. He tucks himself into his pants, and you loudly discuss your plans for separate exits. 
"I'll meet you back at the table in five." He says, and with another lingering look, you're out the door and alone in the dark corridor, feeling empty and needy.
It was time to catch a killer.
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luvring · 3 months
Text
IS THAT ALL?
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gn!reader | 900ish words, really just fluff despite the opener ^___^
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megumi fushiguro considers himself a coward.
it’s sunday, 10:00am bright on the clock behind you. wings flap outside as the birds that like to adorn the neighbour’s fruit tree caw, and the blanket is pulled up to his chest, up to your cheeks.
your face is only a few inches away, and all he can think about—besides the curl of your lips as you smile at him again—is whether his breath still smells like mint from brushing his teeth the night before. whether you can see his skin breaking out on his temple and forehead, or the scar on his jaw from falling when he was seven—if you’d notice them after he said the three words that’ve been sitting on the tip of his tongue for weeks.
because megumi’s realized he can do a lot of things, plan more, fight even more, but it all crumbles apart when it comes to you.
“why are you staring at me?”
“i’m not,” he answers too quickly, muttered as he looks to the pillow underneath your head instead of your eyes.
you squish your face further into it to meet his gaze again. “is there something on my face?”
“no.”
“is there food stuck in my teeth?”
“we haven’t even had breakfast.”
“because if i turn on my phone and see either of these things, i’m going to be very angry with you, megumi fushiguro.”
the sound of his name draws him back to you, your squinting eyes and frown that holds no anger.
his lip twitches up, only just. “there’s nothing on your face or in your teeth.”
you hum, keeping your accusatory facade, even while reaching for his hand beneath the blanket. “swear i don’t look bad?”
megumi’s fingers easily slide into place between yours.
you could never look bad.
he huffs. “seriously?”
“‘seriously’? oh, wow, forgive me, my dear, for not believing your plainly spoken words while you still won’t tell me why you’re staring.” you ruffle his hair and push strands to cover his eyes. he rolls them as he pulls up the collar of your shirt to muffle your laugh.
it’s a lovely sound.
he hopes you let him hear it again and again.
a bird caws at the same time you swat at his hand and the hold on your shirt loosens, his fingers moving to smoothen the evidence.
“you just look nice.” he finally says as his eyelids droop, and he lets himself look at your lips for a fraction of a second. “that’s all.”
you smile and ignore the heat in your ears. “that’s all?”
the words claw at him again, and his throat constricts the same time his stomach ties into a knot.
it should be something special, megumi thinks—saying it out loud for the first time.
maybe at a fancy restaurant, with candles and expensive meals between you, his best suit on, quiet jazz and clinking glasses in the background.
maybe outside somewhere, in a nice meadow or under a tree, a picnic blanket sitting underneath you.
maybe after a long-winded monologue of how his curiosity grew to infatuation, a crush, something more. after he’s told you he wishes he could spend every morning with you, turn to you when the neighbour’s kids laughing and screaming wakes you up in place of an alarm on a saturday, watch you playfully groan and complain about today’s youth.
after he’s laid his heart out to you, instead of now, a random sunday morning, as the sound of cawing and birdsong fills the space between you instead of his voice, and all the words he wants to say before the three.
he wonders how long he’s been silent when you scrunch your brows and confusion shifts your smile. “hello? earth to megumi?”
“i love you.”
and across megumi’s face, there’s a fleeting shadow as a bird flies past—the blue of his eyes darkening, but not hardening, never hardening—not while looking at you.
you blink at him.
he blinks back.
the birds caw loudly outside.
and it’s all he can do to not bite his lip, to ignore the sudden tightness in his chest as you open and close your mouth—a sensation that he usually comes to you for to get rid of.
you blink again, twice, three times, and a different three words find their way to the tip of his tongue at the sight, heavier than the last, a little more strained.
but then you smile, just like always.
let out a laugh of disbelief that makes his apology disappear.
your reply comes as a murmur, it flows over him and muffles the noise outside, easing the clawing at his gut with expertise—“i love you, too.”
and it really is a random morning; megumi couldn’t tell you the date if you asked. but your grip on his hand tightens, and he promises to write it down (sunday, 10:07am) when you both get up.
he lets all his tension loosen as he finally smiles back.
your own smile widens into a bright grin at the sight, and though his mind’s reeling, he can hear what you’re going to ask before you do—
“is that all?”
it’s silly, and megumi almost rolls his eyes, almost pulls the blanket over your head and threatens to take it back,
and he loves you.
even, and especially as he hears the neighbour’s door creak open, and the first sound of the kids yelling—as he pinches your cheek and snickers when you let out a surprised noise. “that’s all.”
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noo nia don't make something that's supposed to be big happen in a mundane warmth again nooo don't make another guy completely in love w reader noooo... does i'm sorry technically count as three words btw. lol? well. obviously totally unrelated but i'm hungry as fawk rn. goodbye everybody i'm gonna eat toast. yaaaaayy!!!
🏷️ | @danyisapingu @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @tooruchiiscribs @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @sleepyxxhead @milkbreadforlife @sirimirihiro @aria-chikage @leiiii-i @chocopuchino
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totheblood · 1 year
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superposition. (one)
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pairing: dealer!ellie x best friend!reader
summary: you've never been on a date, hell, you've never even kissed anyone. ellie decides to be a good best friend and teach you how! wow.. so kind of her..
warnings: 18+, nearly every chapter will have a somewhat sexual element to it (this one is probably the tamest?), cursing, alcohol/drug mention, suggestive themes... cheating if u squint
a/n: i want bff!ellie and that's all... friends to lovers??? fav trope. i hope i do this justice and i hope you guys like it... ai audios at the end as usual
"in every universe, you are my dark star."
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You felt like a fucking loser.
Well, you usually felt like a loser, but as you sat on Dina’s couch researching what to wear on a first date you felt absolutely lame. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been asked out on a date before, it’s just that no one you liked had asked you out on a date before. A girl had never asked you out on a date before. But since the cute girl from your chemistry lab had asked you if you wanted to go to dinner with her, you happily agreed.
You were just… inexperienced and although it never bothered you before as you approached the time for your date you were becoming increasingly more nervous. What to wear, what to order, and what to talk about were all things you were not familiar with and you wanted to be, if anything, overly prepared. So you did the only thing you knew how to: Google it. 
Your feet were tucked under your legs as you sat crisscrossed on the couch. From the living room, you could hear Dina and Jesse laughing in the kitchen as they snacked on whatever they had available in their pantry. Ellie was sat at the dining room table with a scale in front of her, measuring and sorting loose flowers into dime bags. This was what a regular Friday night looked like for your friends. It usually ended in Ellie passing around one of her pre-rolls as you watched a shitty movie Jesse had suggested, but tonight you planned to leave early for your date.
As if Ellie could sense the tension rolling off of you from her place at the table, she plopped herself next to you on the couch, startling you from your anxious state. 
“Jesus, fuck-” You looked at Ellie with wide eyes, her green ones staring back and searching your face as if she was analyzing you. “We need to put a bell on you. You scared the shit out of me.”
“I practically stomped over here, it’s not my fault that whatever-” She gestured back and forth between you and your phone. “Is going on with that stopped you from hearing me.” 
You rolled your eyes at her fully knowing she was right but not wanting to give her that satisfaction. “Yeah, whatever.”
“Soooo,” She began, drawing out the sound as she placed her arm behind you on the couch and leaned into you. “What’s got you all nervous today? I swear whenever you’re nervous, I get nervous.”
You groaned, leaning your head back and into Ellie’s arm. You tilted your head slightly to look at her. She looked comfortable in her grey hoodie, her other hand tucked into the pocket. Her eyes were locked on yours and her eyebrows knit together. She was concerned about you. If the reason you were freaking out wasn’t so juvenile you would be eating this up, but instead you just felt guilty. It annoyed you how well she knew you sometimes.
“It’s so stupid, El.” Your voice came out in a whisper almost as if you were telling her a secret. “You’re gonna laugh at me” Her face softened as she offered you a small smile.
“How much do you wanna bet it’s not stupid?” She leaned her head back on the couch, trying to match your posture. “And if I laugh you have full permission to punch me.” 
You took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a second. You knew that she would never make fun of you for freaking out over a date, but that didn’t stop you from being reluctant to say it out loud. 
“I have a date tonight.” When you opened your eyes you scanned her face looking for a hint of a smile, something that would tell you not to stress. Instead, you saw a different emotion flicker over her face, something you couldn’t quite place. Shock? No. Sadness? No. Disappointment? Close enough. It didn’t make much sense to you but as quick as it was there, it was gone.
“And?” She didn’t sound annoyed, but she didn’t sound happy for you. For the first time in your life, you were having a difficult time reading her.
“And I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never been on a date before.” With your admission, you squinted your eyes causing your nose to scrunch. The reaction you were getting from Ellie was hard to read and you were already beginning to feel extremely embarrassed. When you finally did adjust your vision to look at her she just looked confused.
“Why did I not know you’ve never been on a date?” 
“Cause I never told you.” You laughed, a downturned smile on your face. “Not really the best talking point.” You were trying to lighten the mood but Ellie’s expression never changed.
“I mean, it makes sense.” She casually said. If you were anyone else you may have laughed it off, but the sentence cause a sharp pain in your chest. Your mouth fell open as you gasped and playfully pushed her shoulder.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Her eyes widened as she realized how you took her sentence.
“No, no- fuck. I just mean like you spend all your time with me. You never really talk about anyone, I’m not saying no one would date you cause obviously I know that’s not true, I just mean… I didn’t mean it like that.” She rambled out, a frantic look on her face.
“Damn, Ellie. Tell me how you really felt.” The smile crept back up on her face as she realized you were teasing her.
“So you’ve never been on a date? So what?” She shrugged, trying to steer the conversation back in it’s original direction.
“So I don’t know what to wear, or what to talk about, or howtokiss.” You mumbled the last part of your sentence together hoping she wouldn’t notice, but she was Ellie and she noticed almost everything.
“Wear that pink floral dress you have, the one that makes your boobs look amazing. Talk about yourself, it’s a date, the whole point is to get to know each other. And what was that last thing you said?” When she spoke to you everything she said seemed so casual, but you weren’t like her. You couldn’t brush over the fact that she just told you not only does she know your wardrobe without thinking too much about it, but also makes a note of how you look in them. How your tits look in them. 
“Uhm-” You cleared your throat. “I don’t know how to kiss. I’ve never done it before.” You reluctantly admitted. Again you expected Ellie to laugh at you, but she just stared at you, then your lips. 
“Well, I can show you.” She shrugged, eyes trained on you. Your mouth hung open, unsure of what to do. On one hand, kissing your best friend never seems like a good idea, on the other hand, you could use the practice.
“I mean… now?” You asked, your body heating up in anticipation. She looked completely serious, her lips were a straight line and her body seemed completely calm. She was the complete opposite of you. She slightly got up and leaned over you as she peered into the kitchen, presumably checking for Dina and Jesse. As she sat back down she took another quick glance at your lips. 
“Yeah, now. Just a quick lesson before your date.” She said it matter-of-factly almost as if this would just be a case of a friend helping another friend. Like she was offering to help you move or something. A part of you assumed you were overthinking it. If she was so nonchalant about it, then it must not be a big deal. Right? 
“Yeah, okay. It couldn’t hurt, right?” 
“Don’t think so.” She agreed.
“So, what do I do? Do I just-” You placed your phone on the couch between you before cupping her cheek. Ellie placed her hand that was previously in her pocket over yours and moved your hand down to her thigh before leaning in close to you.
“Just relax, I’ll show you how.” Her voice came out in a whisper that you could feel ghost your lips. You were unsure of when she got so close but you could smell her, feel her short and rapid breaths coming from her nose. If you moved an inch your lips would be on hers, but you decided to let her take control.
Your heart was pounding in your chest as she closed the small gap between your faces and pressed her chapped lips against yours. Your eyelids fluttered closed as you froze, unsure of what to do next. Her hand that was still resting on yours tapped the back of your hand. Almost instinctively you parted your lips and hummed when her tongue tentatively brushed against yours. It almost felt natural, her tongue in your mouth and your hand on your thigh, but as she slowly pulled her face back from you, you suddenly wanted more. 
Your free hand grabbed the back of her head, your lips capturing hers once again. You were fighting to feel her tongue in your mouth again but understood what she wanted when her lips parted. Her hand which had been resting behind your head for a better part of your conversation had made its way down to your waist and gently pulled you into her. Your chests were impossibly close together and every little noise you made caused her to get more and more aggressive. Your whole body was burning and you were attempting to ignore the wetness that was growing at your center, but Ellie just kept going. She guided your hand further up her thigh, humming into your mouth as you brushed your thumb over her inner thigh.
With the hand that was previously trapped in your hair, you steadied yourself with a hand on her shoulder as you pushed her back in an attempt to straddle her. Both your hands had moved. Her hands found their place at the base of your hips and yours were gripping the back of her neck. Her lips felt like fucking magic as she began to suck on your bottom lip. You could feel a tightness in your core, something you were all too familiar with. Your clothed hips ground down on hers, causing her to gasp and break away from you instantly.
“Fuck, fuck. Okay.” She sighed, leaning away from you and gently pushing you away from her. When you got a good look at her her lips were swollen and eyes red and glossy. You wanted to kiss her again, you wanted to relieve the pain you were beginning to feel, but the situation was beginning to set in for you. 
“I can’t believe you’ve never done that before.” She blinked up at you, her hands rubbing at your sides distracting you. Your mind was practically empty. 
“Was I okay?” You asked bashfully, causing her to snort. All she did was lean up and press a kiss to the side of your lips, before pushing you off of her and back onto the couch. 
“You were more than okay, that was-” She stopped herself as she looked at you. Her eyes scanned your face, staying too long on your lips. “I think your date will go great.” Something in her tone seemed solemn, but she had a gentle smile on her face, and her hand was still hoovering the side of your body.
“Thank you.” You said quietly, eyes never leaving her. 
“I should get back to work, and you should go get ready.” She pushed herself off the couch and made her way back to the dining room table, leaving you sitting there licking your lips just for the taste of her. A second after her you got up too, grabbing your bag from the coffee table in front of you. Ellie turned back around to look at you from the table. 
“Wear the dress, and uh-” She stopped to look you up and down. “Text me when you get home tonight.”
ai audios:
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vivid-ink · 7 months
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Kinktober #1 - Handjob "Mission Accomplished"
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fem!HumanReader x Neteyam or Lo'ak (you pick! 😉)
Summary: You've been asked to fill in for Norm on one of his Na'vi patient observations, except this isn't any old observation appointment... You need to collect a semen sample and the appointment doesn't go at all to professional plan...
Warnings: 🔞 Sexual content 18+, MDNI 🔞 Word count: 4.6k
Author's Note: Happy Kinktober everyone! 😁 I'm late with this prompt as it was completely unplanned. I got inspired late last night after posting Part 4 of 'The Love Shack' and this is what my brain spat out! As usual, my inability to write short drabbles means that what was meant to be a short, sweet kink-scene turned out to be 4.6k. I've not used any names in this piece, so you're free to imagine either Neteyam or Lo'ak as the male lead in this. Enjoy the spice ya'll!
Tagging some mooties who may be interested (no pressure though): @pandoraslxna @blue-slxt @adrianarose7 @vintaqestar @eyweveng @qcswrites @daeneeryss @oasiswithmyg @delacruzyari @teymars @neteluvr @sulieykte @teyamsatan
And OMG (I feel absolutely rotten for overlooking this until now) - Thank you to the incredible @cinetrix for her render of Neteyam which I've used in the story cover.
You swallowed tightly as Dr Blaise briefed you around the purpose of today’s observation and what was required of you. Your heart was galloping in your chest and you could feel yourself breaking out into a nervous sweat. It amazed you how unconcerned and unaffected she was about the whole thing.
“It’s a simple observation. We’re looking for any key physical differences in appearance, as well as any differences in physiological function.” Dr Blaise stated casually, “No swabs or bloods needed today. Just some notes, photos, and a semen sample. There are sample collection jars in the consultation bay already.”
A semen sample… Good Lord, she said that with all the nonchalance of someone asking for a saliva sample. Though you figured that’s what medical professionalism was all about, right? No awkwardness, no emotion, just plain science and fact.
When Dr Norm Spellman had said that he was writing a book about Pandoran Biology and Na’vi Physiology, you’d jumped at the opportunity to be involved. After all, Pandora was your home. It was the only home you’d ever known. As one of the only two human babies to be born on Pandora, you and Spider were the only generation of humans who’d never known the dying mother planet Earth.
Unlike Spider though who had taken to life on Pandora like a duckling to water, scaling trees, swinging from branches and pretty much adopting himself into the Omatikaya clan, you weren’t anywhere near as outgoing. You’d stuck to the medical labs and the avatar camp for majority of your life, rarely venturing out into the wilderness except to accompany the other scientists on their excursions. Perhaps the only similarity you shared with Spider was that you too were an orphan of war. Your parents had been on the frontlines of the battle between Toruk Makto and the RDA, and they’d met their maker on that fateful day.
You were just an intern currently, but the older staff and scientists were more than willing to teach you. Doing lab observations, drawing blood and other lab technician work was your job, so this morning’s appointment shouldn’t have been any different. And yet it was.
You’d never had to collect a semen sample before.
“Patient is a young unmated male, 23 years of age. Fit. Occupation is hunter-warrior. No pre-existing medical conditions and no recent injuries.” Dr Blaise rationally, handing you the clipboard and pen, “The patient has also been briefed about this appointment, so he knows what to expect and he’s aware he needs to produce a sample.”
“Right, understood.” You mumbled and the words were slightly hoarse. You cleared your throat, dislodging the sticky lump of uneasiness there.
Sensing your discomfort, Dr Blaise placed a heartening hand on your shoulder. Her eyes were kind and the crows’ feet at their corners crinkled as she smiled, “Look, the patient is friendly with the team, one of Jake Sully’s sons actually. So you needn’t worry about any hostility. You’ve done numerous observations and collected all sorts of samples. This is no different. It’s only awkward if you’re awkward. Besides, I’m sure you can understand why Dr Spellman didn’t want to conduct this particular observation himself, what with them being family friends and all.”
A giggle and snort left you at the humorous thought and you found you had to agree. Dr Blaise chuckled alongside you. It would definitely be ten times more awkward if the patient and medical professional were familiar with each other during this observation.
The fleeting moment of hilarity eased the nervous roil in your belly. Tucking your pen into the breast pocket of your lab coat, you took a deep breath and nodded, “Ok, I’ve got this. Thanks Dr Blaise.”
With two thumbs up and a wink, Dr Blaise turned and left you to depart down the corridor, her black pump heels clicking neatly across the hard floor.
Turning to the wall, you grabbed an exopack kit and hooked it to the leather belt around your hips. Tucking your hair behind your ears, you positioned the mask over your face and returned to the doorway that led into the consultation bay. The doorway was tall, much taller than you were used to. All the consultation bays were built big enough with high enough ceilings to accommodate the Na’vi and the avatars. While the main ventilation in the compound was suited to human lungs, the consultation bays were fitted with ventilation to suit their Pandoran patients. Scanning your ID card on the panel of blinking lights on your right, the door slid open with a hiss and you stepped into the bay.
The first thing that always hit you when you entered any of the consultation bays was the sterile scent of it. After a couple of years working here you’d think you’d have got used to it, but every single time the smell was like a synthetic slap to your senses. You wrinkled your nose in distaste. Everything smelled so chemical; too clean and too artificial. It was no wonder the Na’vi didn’t like being in here. If the smell was strong to your human nose, you could only imagine how much more potent it was to their heightened senses.
The second thing to hit you this morning was the sight of the magnificent creature that was standing in the corner of the bay, peering at the various medical models, instruments and books in the wall-mounted glass cabinet. He’d been facing away from you at first, but the sound of your footsteps had caught his attention and he turned to face you then.
A genial smile stretched across his face and he greeted you in a voice that was deep and warm, “Good morning, doctor.”
His use of English surprised you and while his words were accented, his pronunciation was clear. Go figure that Jake Sully would’ve taught his children to speak his mother tongue.
You gave a clumsy laugh and you were quick to correct your patient, “Oh, I’m not a doctor. I’m just an intern. I’m just filling in for Dr Spellman for this observation.”
Your patient grinned toothily at you and gave a nod of his head in acknowledgement, although his tone was teasing when he replied, “Alright Dr ‘Just-An-Intern’, where would you like me?”
You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up from your throat at his playful demeanour. You smiled at him. He was charming this one, handsome too. Like all Na’vi, he towered well above you in height at approximately nine and a half feet. Though you noted that he was very well-built. Courtesy of being a warrior, you supposed. Yes, he was muscular in all the places you appreciated in a male… You silently reprimanded yourself for your unprofessional thoughts.
“Just take a seat on that gurney for me.” You replied, gesturing towards the make-shift bed against the wall. Retrieving your pen, you began to scan through the notes at the top of the form on the clipboard, double-checking the patient’s details and ensuring everything on it was as it should be.
“Ah, do you want me to take my tewng (loincloth) off?”
Suddenly remembering the aim of the observation again, you felt hot blood rush to your cheeks and ears in embarrassment, “Umm, yes please.” And in a bid to stop your embarrassment running away with your courage, you launched into a rambling outline of the appointment agenda, “Today’s appointment is an observation around Na’vi male genitalia and sexual function. I’m going to need to make some notes and take some photographs of you, both in a r-relaxed and a-aroused state, and I’m going to need to collect a s-semen sample. If you feel uncomfortable at any point…”
He watched you attentively as you babbled onward, the smooth skin of your face and neck taking on a ruddy and flushed hue. He smiled to himself. You were shy and today’s agenda clearly made you uneasy. He felt a twinge of empathy for you. His father had told him that humans were private about matters of the body, especially where it came to sex and pleasure. The Na’vi held no such restraints; sexual freedom was celebrated.
He’d already removed his tewng and had perched himself on the gurney as instructed, unbothered and uncaring of his own nakedness. He was quietly enjoying your discomfort, but not in a rude or condescending manner. He actually found your unease rather endearing.
“Any questions?” Your prattling came to a finish and you took a deep inhale as if you’d squeezed every last ounce of oxygen out of your lungs rushing to finish your speech without taking another breath.
He graced you with another charming smile, “No. You may proceed.”
Willing yourself to get a grip, you walked on slightly shaky legs to the desk in the corner and plucked the glass tablet from its stand and returned to place it on the end of the gurney. You kept your eyes lowered to your clipboard, filling in the date and the time. You could see the striped cobalt of his muscular legs in your peripheral vision where he sat with his shins dangling off the gurney. For the meantime, you dared not glance any higher than his thighs…
Your eyes moved to a set of highlighted bullet points in the middle of the page that indicated questions the patient had to be asked.
You read the first question aloud, its meaning registering simultaneously in your brain as the words left your lips, “When was the last time you ejaculated?”
You fought the mortification that threatened to consume you and your mind struck up a chant of ‘stay professional, stay professional’ in your head.
“Yesterday morning.” His answer was composed.
“And was that with a partner or was it self-stimulated?” Fuck, maybe you should’ve read the questions before coming in for the observation…
“It was self-stimulated.”
“And do you have a preference for male partners, female partners, or both?”
“Female. Definitely female.”
His voice was a smooth, velvety rumble. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something in his tone stroked over you like an invisible caress that made something clench in your lower belly. You scribbled his answers on the page in a messy scrawl that had more to do with your nerves than your actual style of handwriting.
He continued to observe you as you worked. Your knuckles were pale where your left hand gripped hold of the clipboard and you were so focused, almost concentrating too hard on what you were writing. Nose twitching quietly, he parted his lips and scented the air around. The artificial smell of the bay was unpleasant, but a sweeter and much more appealing smell was filling the vicinity now. Your scent.
The blush on your skin remained and he was sure that if he reached out to touch you that your skin would be hot to the touch where your blood had rushed to the surface. He could smell hints of your perspiration and he could also detect a musky and moist feminine undertone. You were attracted to him… His masculine pride delighted in the realisation. Despite your human form, he found you attractive too.
Finishing up your notes, you settled the clipboard down on the gurney and mentally prepared yourself for the ‘looking’ part of the observation.
Eyes still glued to the brown leather of the gurney’s mattress, you declared your next action, “Alright, just stay relaxed for me with your thighs slightly parted. I’m going to begin the physical part of the observation now.”
“Sure.”
Your gaze travelled from the beautiful stripes on his outer thighs inward to the slightly paler blue of his inner thighs and finally, up to his groin. Suddenly, you didn’t understand why you were so nervous about this. He looked fairly… normal? Apart from the general larger size of everything and the blue hue of his skin, everything was as expected. Feeling a little braver now, you grabbed the glass tablet and took a couple of photos and then set it down to return to your clipboard.
“Is everything the same?” He asked out of the blue, “Same as with human males, I mean.”
You looked to his face instinctively and found his amber eyes trained on you, “Ah yes, more or less. Penis, foreskin, testes; everything expected is there and I haven’t noted any real differences in physiology apart from the lack of hair, but that’s consistent with the lack of body hair all Na’vi have apart from on your heads and tail tufts.”
Following the words down the clipboard sheet you came to a section that was titled ‘Texture and Sensitivity’. You paused. How the fuck were you supposed to assess those? The section didn’t have any required questions or sample questions to help you, and no suggestions either, just a space for you to jot down your notes. You looked from your patient’s body and then to his face, and when he gave you a small smile, your gaze shot back down to your clipboard sheet in embarrassment. Texture and sensitivity were tactile aspects. You didn’t really understand how you could assess them without touching the patient.
Evidently you were taking too long in your deliberation, because your patient’s voice sounded again with a gentle query, “Is everything alright?”
“Yes, sorry. I’m just trying to work out how to assess the next bit.” You apologised sheepishly. You weren’t doing a very good job of appearing collected, you realised.
“What’s the next part?”
“Texture and sensitivity. So, what it feels like and which parts respond the most to touch.” You stated in as even a voice as possible. You huffed out a laugh then and shrugged, “It’s a tricky one because they’re tactile observations and I don’t know how to assess them when you can’t touch the patient.”
“Why can’t you touch the patient?” His response was clearly a surprise to you and he couldn’t suppress his grin as you goggled at him in shock, “You can touch me if it will enable you to do your job.”
You were almost about to say that you couldn’t possibly do that, but you stopped yourself. You were a med-science professional. The patient was consenting and your research required you to perform a physical examination. In a professional capacity, there was no reason you couldn’t touch the patient to achieve the intended outcome of the examination.
You remembered Dr Blaise’s words: It’s only awkward if you make it awkward. Fuck, you needed to swallow a bucket of concrete and toughen up. The sooner you completed this observation, the sooner you would be out of this uncomfortable situation.
Nodding resolutely, you agreed, “Alright, but you will guide me with your own hands. That way I can be assured that you’re only leading me where you’re comfortable to be examined.”
Your patient dipped his head in agreement, the tuft of his tail curling and uncurling charmingly on the gurney next to him. You set your clipboard down and moved to position yourself before him, standing between his knees. You lifted your eyes to his and they locked with his gentle gaze. Tentatively you offered him your hand and he took it, his large palm and long fingers engulfing it easily.
“So first up, texture?” He reminded, and you nodded.
Slowly, he brought your hand to his crotch and settled your hand over the shaft of his cock. It was very warm beneath your palm. Gently, your fingers tested the slightly springy flesh, noting how smooth and silken his skin was. At this closer proximity, you noticed that there was also spattering of bioluminescent freckles on the shaft. You made a mental note of that.
You touched the base of his cock, gingerly feeling around the length of it and you asked, “What’s the sensitivity like here?”
“I can feel it, but it’s not intense or anything. It’s more sensitive up here.” He guided your fingers nearer to the tip and you stifled a small gasp when he assisted you in pushing his foreskin back to reveal the smooth, dark purple head of his cock.
You’d never interacted with a naked man this close, human or Na’vi, and you certainly had never touched one in such an intimate place. Your body was starting to tingle in various places; in very unprofessional places. It was a surreal situation to be in and you found that you felt oddly calmer now than you were a few minutes ago.
Trailing the pads of your fingers over the smooth tip, you found it was moist and a little slippery. Your thumb tested the underside of it, “Sensation?”
A quiet hiss left him and you instinctively attempted to move your hand away, but his hold over your wrist kept it there, “That’s sensitive. That feels good.”
Your heart was still thumping and your cheeks were still warm, but it wasn’t nerves anymore that were causing your reaction. God, his skin was so soft and so warm… Your curiosity was growing now; your innate desire to explore taking hold of you.
You traced the raised rim of his cock head with your thumb and forefinger, watching as your patient emitted a rumbling groan. His hold on your wrist tightened and he began to move your hand over him. You intuitively wrapped your fingers around his cock. You felt entranced almost, caught up in the moment as you unwittingly began to enjoy the feel of him in your grasp.
The hot flesh in your hand was growing, elongating and engorging as the stimulation aroused him. You watched, amazed, as it swelled to its full capacity. The fingers and thumb of your hand could no longer meet each other. The girth of his cock was easily the same width as your forearm and by your approximations, it looked like it had also more than doubled in length from its relaxed state.
The erect shaft had lengthened out of his foreskin and it was a lovely shade of striated blue all over, except for a paler purple underside and head. In its aroused state, you discovered that while it shared structural similarities to a human male’s genitalia, it also possessed other aspects which were very different. The engorged shaft of his cock was ridged all along its length and as your hand smoothed up and down the column of it, you noted that the ridges were firm and palpable against your hand.
It was the most arousing thing you’d ever seen… Those ridges must feel so good inside for the woman…
You didn’t perceive his eyes on you, watching you as you explored his hard flesh. You were so engrossed that you didn’t even cotton on to the fact that he wasn’t even guiding your hand anymore. He could smell you, smell your arousal dampening between your thighs and the sight of your much smaller hand stroking and squeezing his cock was incredibly sexy.
You ran your enclosed hand in one full stroke from the base of cock and up to the head of it, fascinated by the ridged texture of it and the slippery, bulbous tip. However, your patient emitted a hissing intake of breath then and you jumped a little, snapping out of your thoughts.
“S-Sorry! Is that painful?” You stammered, shooting him a slightly apologetic frown.
He shook his head with a husky chuckle, “No, it’s just very sensitive. A lot more than earlier.”
“Where?” You asked, stroking him from tip to base and back up again.
“Everywhere. The ridges and the head especially.” His voice was notably breathier than before and his breaths were coming quicker, shallower and less even.
“That is fascinating.” You muttered, and your other hand joined in on your exploration. You fondled his balls lightly, observing the weightiness of them.
Your patient grunted and he parted his thighs a bit more. He leaned back to brace his weight on his palms behind him. He gave a small roll of his hips, which caused the top half of his cock to push and pull within your grasp. He moaned and the sound shot straight to the apex of your thighs. When you didn’t object, he continued the motion, thrusting lightly into your hands, both of which were now grasping his length one on top of the other.
Clear and viscous pre-ejaculate began to ooze from his tip, increasing in quantity with each roll of his hips. It was so copious that it was beginning to pool on the backs of your palms and drip down towards your wrist. Lord help you… there was nothing professional anymore about what you were doing… Not that your patient appeared to have any objections…
Still completely spellbound by the situation, your curiosity pushed a murmured query past your lips, “Is there always so much pre-ejaculate?”
“Depends. Generally the more aroused a man is, the more he produces.” He replied and when your bashful gaze lifted to meet his, he smirked wickedly.
You were such a pretty little thing to him, your smaller hands trying their best to keep hold of his slick cock. He knew that this was beyond the normal boundaries of the appointment. He knew that while you would’ve been required to touch him to examine him, stroking him off was probably not anywhere on the agenda. He suspected he was supposed to produce the sample on his own, but looking at you now, so enraptured by his body… How could he have resisted? And besides, he knew you were enjoying this as much as he was, your scent told him so.
You tightened your hold on his cock experimentally, squeezing harder. Each time the swollen head of his cock pushed out of your hands to greet you, you swiped your thumb over the oozing slit on its tip. He was panting heavily now, his impressive abdominals bunching and flexing as he continued to thrust his thick cock through your hold. The bioluminescent freckles that dotted his shaft were glimmering brightly and you never thought you’d ever use the word ‘beautiful’ to describe genitalia, but his cock was gorgeous.
All of him was gorgeous, truth be told…
You were attracted to Na’vi men. Ever since you were old enough to notice the opposite sex, you’d been drawn to male Na’vi. After all, you’d grown up on this moon, inhabited by and surrounded by tall, beautiful Na’vi. The humans who surrounded you at the compound and the camp were your family, and they were all much older. There were no men of your own species to look at or be attracted to. Spider was the only one of your generation and he was like your annoying, gross brother. Your attraction to Na’vi men had been an inevitable result really.
So now as you stood in the consultation bay, between the knees of this striking and aroused Na’vi male while he pumped his cock in and out of your hands, you’d never felt more validated and aroused in your life.
Your patient’s fingers were digging into the squeaky brown leather of the gurney now, straining slightly as his hips continued their onslaught. Your hands and wrists were completely drenched, soaking in his thick pre-cum. The slippery mess caused his cock to squelch obscenely as it slipped through your hold. The whole situation was so sensually explicit and you were never more thankful in your life than you were now that there were no CCTV cameras installed in the consultation bays.
You’d be expelled from your chosen profession for patient abuse… Though by the half-lidded, slack-jawed expression of pleasure on his face, he didn’t look much like he was being unwillingly abused…
A string of Na’vi curses left him then, followed by several panted moans. He abruptly pushed off his palms to sit upright and he stuttered, “W-Where is the container?”
A little stunned by his sudden and urgent tone, you stumbled in your own response, “The w-what? Oh, the sample jar?”
Panting heavily through parted lips, he nodded at you and you pointed to the desk on his left. You saw his gaze follow your eyeline and when he caught sight of the plastic collection jars that sat patiently waiting, he let out a hearty guffaw.
He reached for one and deftly flicked the already loosened lid from its mouth, still chuckling away between his huffing breaths, “It’s so small. You ready, doc?”
“For what?” You asked, realising only as the words left you what a dumb response it was as he handed the sample jar to you.
Your patient smiled at you and it was a salacious leer, all narrowed eyes and pointed canines showing, “You’re about to get your sample.”
One of his hands returned to guide yours, wrapping around your one remaining hand where it encircled his stiff cock. The pace of this rocking thrusts increased and he began to exhale with throaty moans that you swore made your own feminine core throb with desire. Gingerly, you held the collection jar up to him, being extra careful not to drop it.
With two more lurching breaths, his abdominal muscles contracted and his back bowed inward, his entire torso going rigid. You felt his cock harden impossibly before it pulsed and the breath he was holding left him in a coarse growl while his face twisted into an almost pained expression. His cock pulsed again and the first spurt of ejaculate missed the sample jar entirely, landing with a warm splat in the middle of your chest where the frills of your blue blouse peeked out from behind your lab coat. Quickly, his free hand grabbed hold of yours to position the jar better, while his other hand attempted to position his cock so he could shoot straight into it.
He was absolutely breathtaking in the midst of his orgasm. The luminous freckles on his face were twinkling and the striped cobalt skin of his neck and chest was glossy with a sheen of sweat. His cock continued to throb and pulse, emitting rope after rope of thick cum that splattered untidily over the mouth and sides of the sample jar.
You could see why he’d laughed at the size of it. There was no way the small jar could have held the full volume of what he was producing.
Coming down now off the high of his climax, your patient slouched against the wall behind the gurney, breathing hard. He caught your eye and he grinned indolently at you.
The adrenalin and heightened arousal in the atmosphere was fading rapidly now, and cold, hard reality was slowly returning to you. You looked at the pearlescent contents of the sample jar, which was still decently full despite majority of the sample not making it in there. You smiled to yourself.
Mission accomplished and what an exciting mission it was…
Carefully setting the jar down on the flat worktop of the metal sink next to you, you replaced the lid on it with sticky fingers and made a note to thoroughly wipe the jar down later before handing it to the lab techs.
Returning your attention to your patient, you smiled at him, suddenly shy again, “Thank you for your co-operation today. I’ll leave you to clean and freshen up. You can see yourself out after.”
His answering laugh was husky and he dipped his head at you, “I should be thanking you for your co-operation I think, doc.”
“Not a doc, remember?” You grinned at him and you were about to turn on heel to depart into the adjacent washroom when you heard him call out to you again.
“Hey Not-A-Doc, if you ever need another sample, I’m happy to provide another one, whether for med-science research or your own personal research.”
A girlish giggle left you and you felt your face flame again. You shook your head, making your way into the washroom to clean yourself up. He was a naughty one that one…
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darthannie · 7 months
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pairing: Jonathan Crane x f!reader summary: After giving you an experimental medication, Dr. Crane helps you get over your fear of intimacy.  word count: 2,143 warnings: 18+, minors DNI for the love of god, DARK, rough at points, I’m gonna go ahead and say NONCON, au where Dr. Crane has a private practice, abuse of power, reader is under the influence (kinda like the fear toxin), reader is sleepy, Crane doesn't take no for an answer, dacryphilia, inexperienced!reader, floor sex, spit, fighting back, a smidge of aftercare at the end. a/n: Please do not read if you’re not into what's in the warnings. I had fun experimenting with this one. I tried to be a little more thorough in the warnings. Better safe than sorry. I’m still toying around with Jonathan’s voice. Let me know if you want more of this kind of thing, or something different. I’d love to interact with you guys more!
Dr. Jonathan Crane had been treating you for the better part of a year and was in the midst of creating a new medication regimen for you. Your previous treatment plan was not working as intended, so it was back to the drawing board.
He selected you as the first person to receive an experimental medication. It was meant to be inhaled and doses were to be given during the time of the appointment. You didn’t necessarily know what to expect. He’d briefly mentioned that there may be potential side effects but didn’t go into much detail. 
You were nervous the first time you’d gone in to receive a dose. As you approached the door to his office you felt a lump begin to form in your throat. You knocked and after a moment he opened the door. Jonathan always wore the same thing most of the time. Today he donned a black blazer and slacks with a white button-up. His red tie was placed right at the center of his collar. His dark hair framed his face perfectly. He looks good today, you thought, better than usual. 
You exchanged your normal pleasantries and sat across from him on a couch. His office was spacious and dark. All the furniture was made of wood. In the corner, there was a big bookcase that consisted of books on fear, pharmacology, and different editions of the DSM. The DSM-4 was missing from the shelf, presumably on his desk. 
The room brought you a lot of comfort. It was the only place you ever got to see him. It felt like Dr. Crane was the only person in all of Gotham that understood you. It was his job after all. 
Soon the time came for him to administer the medication. 
“I’m going to spray in front of your face and you’re going to breathe in. It doesn’t take much to be effective.”, he said. 
You nodded and he sprayed. 
Your nerves subsided almost immediately and your mind became quiet.
“Any difference?”, he asked. 
“My mind is silent. All my racing thoughts have stopped.” 
“Good. That means it’s working. Some of the other side effects may begin to set in now.” 
He was right. Like clockwork, you started to get drowsy. It was like someone had given you a little too much Benadryl. It was hard to keep your eyes open. 
“Dr. Crane? Is this normal?” You couldn’t help but drag the ’s’. 
“It’s nothing to worry about. It’s just the medication working. How do you feel?” He seemed a tad on edge as he awaited your answer. 
“I feel all warm inside.” 
He then leaned back against his desk. “Any drowsiness?”
“Lots of it.” You chuckled slightly.
“That is normal.” He said, answering your question. “The medication was likely to make you feel tired.”
“Does it go away?”
“As your body builds up a tolerance, the effects will lessen. Now, I wanted to talk about the recent screenings you filled out. I would like you to check over them and rate their accuracy on a scale from one to five, five being very accurate.” 
He handed you a piece of paper and you looked it over. “Four.”
“Why not five?” His eyebrows furrowed. 
“Number six. ’S worse.” Question number six pertained to your interest in sex. More specifically how terrified you were of having it. 
It was a topic you were working on with Dr. Crane since it impacted your life so much. You were hesitant to mention it at first, but he assured you it was better to talk about it instead of holding it in. So, you spilled every detail. This included your inability to get yourself off and failed hook-up attempts.
You’d try very hard but when it came time for you to do the deed you shut down and found a way out of the situation. You hadn’t been getting out there much because, frankly, the thought of being intimate with someone was frightening. You didn’t know how you’d ever get over it. 
“Have you sought out any partners to help with your fears?”, he asked.
You took a moment to process what he said. “No, I haven’t. I can’t. It’s too-“
“Frightening, yes I remember you using that word.” He removed his glasses before continuing. “I think there’s a way I can help you with that. Personally.”
You yawned. “What do you mean by that doctor?” 
“I can make you feel better.” He looked down at you and brushed your cheek with the back of his hand. 
“How do you mean?” You could hear the apprehension in your voice. He ignored your question and reached down to the hem of your top, lifting it slightly. 
You pulled back a little too quickly and you got a bit dizzy. “I don’t know about that Dr. Crane. I can’t- I’m not well.”
He ignored you. “I think it’ll be easier if I just take you here on the floor.” 
He dragged you off the couch and onto the ground, sitting up. The hardwood was cold to the touch but started to warm under your body. He kneeled next to you. You tried to fight him as he reached for your sweater. He grabbed your wrists to stop you from thrashing around. 
“I would hate to have to tie you up, sweetheart.” You knew he would follow through so you did what he wanted. You stopped fighting back.
He neatly folded and put aside each article of clothing he took off your body. Eventually, you were completely bare in front of him. You were almost too gone to grasp what was going on. Almost. The fear began to creep in and he could tell. Maybe the medication was not working the way he intended it to. Maybe he lied about what it was intended to do. 
You slurred, “Dr. Crane, please don’t- Please don’t do this.” 
He leaned over you and you tried to push him away. He only offered a small smile and reached his hand down between your legs. You whimpered as his fingers moved lightly over your clit. You mewled at the new sensation. You gave in to the feeling and your eyes started to close. When they wouldn’t open again Jonathan lightly slapped your cheek. 
“No, no, no don’t fall asleep. I need you to stay awake for me.”, he said. 
You fought the exhaustion and watched as he used his fingers to tease you. 
He noticed you getting wetter and moved his fingers down to your entrance. He slowly stretched you with two fingers, watching your face as your mouth fell open. 
A tight-lipped smile appeared on his face. He started slow and then moved his fingers in and out very quickly, hitting a new spot until he found the one that made your legs shake. You lied back and let him work on you. All you felt was bliss. No one had ever touched you like that. 
He took his hand away and you whined. This was a first and you were glad you made it this far. This was a win. 
You thought it was over, but then you noticed him unbuttoning his pants. 
Your breath quickened and you put your hand out. “Wait! Please, no! I think I’ve had enough for today.” 
“We’re not done with your treatment yet, princess. Please hold still. It will be easier for the both of us.” 
Your body was made of putty. The side effects had gotten worse. He brought your legs into position before grabbing himself in his hand. He stroked his cock a couple of times before entering you. 
He gave you no time to adjust. His pace was slow but he fucked hard. You gasped at the feeling of him inside you. You’ve never been fucked like this before. But, that didn’t matter to him. All he wanted was to feel you around him. Make you his. 
The sounds in the room sent you reeling. You didn’t know you would moan so much. The sound of his skin hitting yours filled the room along with his heavy breaths and moans. He grabbed your hips as he thrust hard and fast. You were having a hard time coping with all the feelings you were having at once. The fear, exhaustion, and pleasure were beginning to mix. You wanted to scream. Instead, you cried. 
Jonathan moaned at the sight. He loved watching you cry. He’d seen it happen during sessions and couldn’t help but wonder what it would look like if you moaned while you cried. Now he knew. You were unable to keep quiet. Silent cries became sobs which became whimpers. 
He caressed your tear-stained face, “Shhhhhh, hush now it’s alright. You’re doing so well.”
You tried to talk through your tears. “Please Jonathan- Dr. Crane, Make it stop!”
This time he went deeper. You yelped as you felt him hit a new part of you. “I’m not stopping until you tell me it feels good. Tell me, does it feel good?”
“Yes,” you moaned, “it feels good.” 
“Yeah? Are you still frightened? Are you scared of me?”
“Yes.”, you admitted. It was hard for you to get out. How could you ever fear him? All he had ever done was help you. This was just another one of his unorthodox methods. 
He bent forward and put his arms next to your ears, locking his fingers on the top of your head to hold you in place. Your body was limp as he continued fucking you into the floor. Your eyes closed; you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 
He shook your head slightly. “No, eyes on me. Look at me.” 
You looked at him wide-eyed. 
“Open your mouth.” You obeyed and he spit in your mouth. In all honesty, you savored the taste. It was another way of him claiming you. 
“Swallow.” When you did he hummed contently. “Good girl.” 
You felt something weird tightening in your core. “Dr. Crane. I feel like I’m gonna-“. 
A long moan came out before you could finish your sentence. He fucked you as you rode your high and soon after his thrusts started to falter. He sat up and grabbed your hip to use as leverage. You mustered up as much energy as you could to move away from him, using your legs to drag yourself across the floor. He was much stronger than you at this point and he pulled you back. 
“No, come here. You’re gonna stay still while I finish. Got it?”
The tears kept flowing, but you obeyed. You lied back as he came inside of you. He stayed inside of you for a minute, savoring the moment. You were tired and blissed out. He pulled out of you without a word. He watched as his cum dropped out of you. 
“What a sight.”, he said matter a factly. He helped you sit up and wiped tears from your face with his thumb. He brought you close to him and kissed your forehead. 
He got up and put himself back together again. He fixed his clothing, tucking in his pristine white shirt and fastening his pants. He fixed his tie and looked past you into a mirror. 
Once satisfied, he grabbed a towel from his desk and cleaned you up. He helped you up to your feet and began dressing you. His demeanor was softer now. He took his time as he got you dressed. Once he was finished he helped you sit on the couch. You curled up into his side, seeking comfort from the man who had just used you. 
You’d never felt more confused. You knew this shouldn’t have happened. Every boundary had been crossed. But, the special attention from him felt better than anything. You fell asleep on his shoulder. He let you sleep on him for a while before he got up to write notes on what had just occurred. He found his glasses, put them on, and returned to his desk to begin writing. He included your reaction to the “medication” and how receptive you were to the treatment.
You woke up about an hour later, confused. You looked around and recognized his office. The memories of earlier events came rushing back. You felt your cheeks get hot.
Jonathan looked up from the paper he was holding up. “Rise and shine.”
He grabbed a sheet of paper from your file. He attached it to a clipboard and grabbed a pen. He handed you the materials and you looked down. It was another questionnaire. 
“Fill this out as accurately as possible.”
“What is it for?” You cleared your throat. He sat back down at his desk and picked up the paper he was previously inspecting. He looked at your file before looking back at you. 
“Our next session.”, he replied. 
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