not to be controversial bc I know this is likeâŠnot in line with shifting opinions on fanfic comment culture but if thereâs a glaring typo in my work I will NOT be offended by pointing it out. if ao3 fucks up the formattingâŠI will also not be offended by having this pointed outâŠ
âlooking forward to the next updateâ and âI hope you update soon!â are different vibes than a demand, and should be read in good faith because a reader is finding their way to tell you how much they love it. I will not be mad at this.
âI donât usually like this ship but this fic made me feel somethingâ is also incredibly high praise. Iâm not going to get mad at this.
even âI love this fic but Iâm curious about why you made [x] choiceâ is just another way a reader is engaging in and putting thought into your work.
I just feel like a lot of authors take any comment thatâs not perfectly articulated glowing praise in the exact manner theyâre hoping to receive it in bad faith.
fic engagement has been dropping across the board over the last several years, and yes itâs frustrating but it isnât as though I canât see how it happens. comment anxiety can be a real thing. the last thing anyone wants to do is offend an author they love, and that means sometimes people default to silence.
idk where Iâm going with this I guess aside from saying unless a comment is outright attacking me Iâm never going to get mad at it, and I think a lot of authors should feel the same way. ESPECIALLY TYPOS PLZ GOD POINT OUT MY TYPOS.
Summary: blurb where a princess and a certain untitled artist play togetherâŠ
Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, power swap, dom/sub dom!Benedict, sub!Princessreader, hair pulling, blow job, deepthroat, breathplay, derogatory names, masturbation, swallowing, smidge of cunnilingus and face-sitting.
Word count: 1.4 k
Authors note: Another smut blurb that came as a result of a roulette prompt (âSwallow. All of itâ). Written in an hour. Unbetaed. Utter and complete filth. Enjoy? đ€·ââïž
Once in a quiet corridor, he grabs you by the back of the neck and steers you away from prying eyes. Out across the manicured gardens. Deep into your auntâs Byzantine maze, a mist clinging to the neat privet hedges in the crisp night air.
He doesnât even have to tell you to get on your knees anymore; itâs a reflex. As soon as he stops marching, you drop. Eager to please. His crooked smile beguiling as you gaze up at him roughly, pulling open the buttons at his hip.
âHands behind your back,â he tuts as you go to touch his clothed thigh.Â
Instantly, you obey, fingers clasped over the small of your back. The rough pebble path under your knees is already a slight discomfort you know will only heighten your experience. Bruises on both your knees for him.
His cock is already leaking as it bobs against your nose, leaving a patch of wetness there that you will savour later. Without being told, you shuffle a fraction, greedily wrap your lips around the tip, suckling into your mouth. Hot, salty and tart against your tongue as you lathe the underside, and he exhales raggedly. A large hand rounding your scalp and pulling your hair at the root, a slight burn on your scalp.
âWhat's your signal?â He checks quickly.
You raise your left hand and tap twice on his outer thigh. Then, obediently, place the hand back. You never want to use it.Â
âGood,â he nods, scraping blunt fingernails over your crown. âIâm not going to be gentle,â he warns, a prickle of excitement running down your spine at that news.
He thrusts his hips forward and slides his cock deep into your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut at the blunt force attempting to school your gag reflex.
âEyes open,â he snaps, âyou will look at me the whole time.â
You do as bidden. Wide-eyed as he holds for a few beats, watching you suckle hard and accommodate his girth.
This is what you crave. So very opposite to who you both are; the role reversal and personality juxtaposition are intoxicating. A strong-willed princess on your knees for a sweet, affable, untitled artist. But not when you play like this. He is dominating and rough, bossing you around in ways no one dares. And you revel in it, insist upon it. The submission, the abdication of power, control. The pleasure to be used when, in all other aspects of your existence, you are the designated user, purely by the luck of your birth.Â
âMy filthy princess,â he coos, one hand moving to tap your hollowed cheek, a thumb hooking into the corner of your mouth to break the tight seal you hold around his cock. âRelax your throat; let me in,â the order is velvet and steel, just like his shaft.
Slackening your suction, you exhale around him, letting your throat open. He tips forward, deeper than before, groaning at the restriction your throat provides, a bead of precum sliding over your tastebuds as he rocks back moments later.
Then his hands clamp around your ears, and he is thrusting. Using your pliant mouth, your lips a ring of soft friction as he grunts, a slick gurgling noise every time he plugs your throat. His movements get rougher, plunging in, his grip strong in your hair, the gravel crunching around your knees and toes as he rocks your whole being.Â
He stills, your nose buried in his pubic hair as you burble around his invasion, gaze locked on his. Unable to draw breath, You know he is waiting for that slight hint of panic on your face before giving your reprieve.
He withdraws, letting you take a shuddering, coughed breath as ropes of saliva web from your lips to his glistening cock.
âCall me it,â you implore hoarsely, feeling your spit drooping across the priceless large diamonds that drape around your neck.
âWanton little slut,â he growls, and you flood yourself, a trickle of arousal running down your trembling inner thigh to your right knee.
âPlease fuck me,â you beseech as he roughly moves your head around by your hair, chasing your mouth with his cock, a game of cat and mouse he is playing with himself as much as you.
âNo. Ride your fingers if you must, but tonight, you stay on your knees.â
You whimper in disappointment before he slides back into your mouth, holding still shallow, awaiting your suckling attentions. Which you enthusiastically do. Humming and lapping at his cock, sucking hard with your tongue swirling over his frenulum. He mewls little noises, praising your talented mouth as you hitch up your skirt and hurriedly drive two fingers deep into your dripping cunt, wishing it was his cock.
He takes over again, thrusting deep as you ride your own hand, spiralling greedily towards completion. His gaze slips down, and he smirks when he sees your hand thrust under the hem of your dress.
âGive me that hand,â he instructs, holding still a weight over the length of your tongue as you offer your hand above your head.Â
He pulls your arm straight, a slight burn in your shoulder socket as he wraps his warm, wet mouth around your soaked fingers and laps at your juices lasciviously.Â
âYou always taste so deliciously sweet,â he groans as he lets your fingers slip from his lips, thoroughly cleaned.
You canât answer, your mouth too full, but he already knows it, both so feral for each other's taste. An irresistible tang that leaves you constantly coming back for more.Â
Just last week, he was buried under your cloak, making you orgasm - silently - over his tongue in the royal box at the opera. You wanted to scream louder than every singer on stage but had to settle for a vice-like grip on your opera goggles and a few ragged, mute whimpers. Knowing he would stop immediately if you so much as made a peep. You are sure other box patrons likely saw him emerging from under your layers, a smug smirk on his dampened face, before being summarily dismissed from your company. And yet word never got back to your mother, the queen of Prussia, or your aunt Queen Charlotte. Women of power need their pretty playthings, likely being the Tonâs shared sentiment.
Urgency takes over for both of you. A need to climax clawing at your beings. You roughly rub your clit as his movements turn sharp, more pronounced, using you without mercy, knowing it is driving you closer, too, the heady sensation of denied breaths. You feel his peak as much as you hear his barked warning, a ripple up his shaft that has you readying yourself for the salty, tart taste, his tip at the back of your tongue. You have to hold your breath as it coats the inside of your mouth, him curled over and around you, cursing, his hand heavily matted into your hair.
âSwallow,â he commands. âAll of it.â
You do as you are told, almost unable not to, mouth filled, his hand slipping to your throat to ensure you follow the directive.
âGood,â he groans, rubbing your windpipe soothingly with his palm as he shudders with little aftershocks.
You feel the throb of denial, unable to complete before he did, your clit burning, engorged, needing relief. As he withdraws from your mouth, you cannot stop the little shimmy in your hips, desperate for reprieve.
âDid my little Princess not finish?â he chuckles as he tucks himself back into his britches.
You pout and shake your head, looking up at him imploringly. The smirk that grows on his face makes your heart light up.
âAlright, you can sit on my face,â he offers conciliatoryly, sinking to join you on the ground. âBut it will cost youâŠâ he ends with a clipped warning.
âWhat is the price?â your voice slightly hoarse, eagerly gathering your dress around your hips and shuffling over him.
âIâll think of something,â he hums affably before disappearing under your gown.
You offer him half of Bavaria when he slides his tongue deep into your slit and has you howling at the moon. Instead, ever your loyal subject, he settles on what you already had planned for himâone of his paintings hung in the National Gallery and you wearing a choker with his initials hidden amongst a cluster of sapphires.
Y'all know that scene where Oliver goes, "Are you going to behave from now on, Farleigh?". Now... that scene makes me feel conflicted not because Oli is in the man's room, right? No. It's cuz idk whether I'd wanna be Farleigh or Oliver in that moment. For the culture, y'know
Ayo Edebiri is special to me because bluntly speaking, every time a young actress of colour blows up in Western media spotlight it's usually a light skinned woman or a biracial person with very Eurocentric features and beauty. It's almost like clockwork every time, and the standards of beauty are carefully upheld by colourism even while maintaining a guise of "diversity". But in Ayo's case, it's really great having a gorgeous and talented dark skinned actress be successful, beloved and hailed as a sapphic icon in a way that does not feel like audience paying lip service or being performative.
Like idk how to articulate but it's just so goddamn rare seeing an actual young dark skinned woc thrive in fandom spaces and in terms of commercial or critical success. I really hope people can learn to accept dark skinned young women in comedies, romances and mainstream show business more often because everywhere in movie and shows fandoms, from edits to fanart to fancasts to *actual* casts are BRIMMING with light complexioned actresses of colour. And dark skinned women are expected to grovel and be grateful for getting those crumbs of representation.
I'm so glad that ppl still enjoy my Foundation series. Since the 2nd season has been out for a while, I might dust off my writing station and bring it back đ€
ALSO might write some stuff for Carmy and Sydney cuz I love The Bear fr
Pairings: professor!Jonathan Crane x student!Reader
Word Count: 8.2k words
Prompt: Sex Pollen
Warnings: NSFW, smut, dubcon, professor/student relationship, sex pollen, oral (m!receving), fingering, edging, multiple orgasms, dumbification, name calling, degradation, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie...
A/N: This is a day late, but I got it done! I hope you enjoy this filthy piece. Dr. Crane is so much fun to write for!
The call of your name stalled you from packing the rest of your items, your fingers tingling and your ears burning at the sound of your name breaching his lips.
âCould you stay after class, please?â Professor Crane asked, looking upon you with a set smile.
You remained calm. He would read any unnecessary excitement in the way you breathed.
You nodded, trying to sink back into the rest of the class, packing their bags to leave. You pulled the zipper of your bag closed. When enough people left the room, you made your way to the front with your bag on your person.
You had taken a certain fascination with Dr. Jonathan Crane the first moment you stepped into his class. He was handsome and charming, he knew how to teach and he always managed to pull you in.
He wasn't soft on anyone, even his favorite student usually didn't receive much special treatment. On the first day of classes, he told everyone that 50% of the class would be walking out of the door by the end of the week, and he was right. Better for you, that just meant less people to steal his attention away, less competition when it came to acing his tests and projects.
You loved his class, not just for the topicâobviously. Over the past couple of weeks, you felt his shift. His usual objectivity had switched and he seemed to point you out a little more. He praised your work, he accepted all of your input in class, he would even email you personally (sometimes talk to you after class) on your work to tell you how well you were doing.
You knew your attraction toward him would never amount to anything, it would never work out. But your fantasy was enough to quench your hunger for his attention and affection.
âYes, sir?â you asked as you walked up to him.
Crane smiled at you. âI have a few matters I would like to speak with you privately⊠Could you spare the time?â
The strength of your heartbeat was extra hard for a few moments as you took in his words. You nod, âOf course, professor.â
âStep into my office?â he asked, gesturing toward the door with his name on it.
You took the first step, walking toward the door as he followed behind. You were suddenly very self-conscious of the way that you walked as you opened the door.
He moved around you when you were both inside, allowing you to shut the door as he took his spot in front of his desk. He leaned back on it, crossing his legs at the ankles and putting his hands in his pockets.
You knew this one. He was presenting his body language to seem more relaxed in order to ease you from your guard so he could properly manipulate you into agreeing with whatever he said.
He sighed, taking a moment to look upon you. âI would like you to know that I admire you and your work greatly,â he began, âand this is what allows me to ask this of you so freely.â
You blinked, anticipating his offer. âYes, professor?â
He smiled, almost slyly. âI am conducting an experiment of sorts, a scientific breakthrough that I would like you to be the face of.â
You stared at him, your eyes wider than you meant for them to be as you slowly recovered. âI⊠Me?â
He nodded. âAs part of a selection of students.â
Your heart sunk slightly at that. One of a group, but his first choice, at leastâŠ
âOh,â you nodded. âAlright, uhm⊠WhyâWhat, uhâŠâ You reprimanded yourself for your lack of eloquence. âWhat is the experiment? What kind is it?â
âUnfortunately,â he breathed in deep, letting out a long sigh, âthat must be kept a secret until I come to a close. It's not quite doneâa few last minute tweaks need to be madeâŠâ He looked off slightly, thinking to himself for a split second. His attention turned back to you, looking at you a little closer, bringing you in.
He spoke slowly, leaning off the desk to stand. He moved a little closer, and you felt his hand brush your elbow. âBut I would like to know that you would be willing to drop everything at a momentâs notice when I do contact you for it.â
He took another step forward, closer now to you. You knew this one, too. He was making it personal, making you compliant. You knew this trick, it was Psychology 101.
But it worked anyway.
âOh,â you licked your bottom lip: your own trick. âOkay.â
He smiled, raising his brows, âYes?â he nodded.
You returned the nod. âYes, sir,â you smiled. âIâŠwould be honored to.â
He held your eye contact, not letting go as he nodded. âExcellent!â he exclaimed gently. He leaned in a little, close to your face, too close for a professor talking to his student. âYou really are my greatest student.â
You smiled, perhaps too much. You feel too giggly. âI'mâŠso glad.â
He moved his hand from your elbow to raise a finger, shaking it gently at you. âRemember,â he teased, âat a momentâs notice.â
You nodded definitely. âOf course.â
He offered you a charming smile before stepping out of your space, breaking the spell. He tilted his head toward you. âYou may go.â Just as you were lifting your foot, he held out a hand toward you. âAnd thank you very much.â
With one last nod, you stepped back. âNot a problem, sir.â
You stepped out of his office, closing the door gently behind you. Gently biting your lip, you unsilenced your phone as you left his classroom.
~
The shrill ring of your phone cut through the late night and woke you brutally from your slumber. You gasped as you reluctantly blinked through the dark to direct your eyes to the abusive light emanating from the phone. The clock next to it on the nightstand read far past midnight. You moaned deeply, speaking but only forming actual words toward the middle of your complaint.
â...âf iâs ânother spâmâŠâ You wiped your face and covered your eyes as you answered the phone, not quite awake but too tired to deal with waking up.
âHullo?â
The voice on the other end woke you up just a little more, not quite clearing the fog in your brain but allowing you to put more effort into sounding a little more awake.
âIt's time.â
Time for whâOh.
You suddenly remembered Dr. Crane's experiment, the one he wanted to test with you. Your gut clenched and your heart picked up and startled you awake. It was time.
âOh.â
~
You pressed your finger into the doorbell, checking the address of Dr. Crane's house out of nerves a fifth time and the time for the twentieth. You wrapped your coat tighter around you, the chilly breeze persuaded by the winter air of Gotham so close to Christmas time. They would be letting you out for the break soonâŠ
The door opened, a little crack and a creak to allow you entry.
âJust go along with whatever happens.â
You thought back to his instructions on the phone, vague instructions you briefly considered not trusting. But he was your professor. He had your best interests at heart, surely.
You reached your hand toward the knob, timidly reaching. He wasn't at the door. Should you actually go in?
âDon't waste time asking questions. Everything will be explained when you get there.â
You pushed the door open and walked inside, shucking your coat off as you nervously looked around the house. You shut the door behind you, hanging your coat on the rack by the entrance and leaving your shoes next to the ones by the door.
You swallowed thickly as you looked around, stepping further inside. âUhmâŠâ you cleared your throat. âDr. Crane? Are you still home?â
You were met with silence as you continued to quietly step through the living room, the air so still that you could feel your heart beating heavily in your chest. You were so nervous, your blood was pumping and you were bordering on scared as you tried to keep your breath level. Your flesh raised with goosebumps. It was too quiet.
You almost didn't want to speak again, afraid to break the silence and disturb something unknown lurking around the corner.
âDr. Crane?â you called again, suddenly feeling very warm and very frightened. Where was he? âProfessor?â
âIn here.â
The voice was distant when he spoke, giving you some reprieve from the silence but feeding your anxiety, fueling your fight-or-flight.
âWhere?â you wondered aloud, stepping past the archway that led into the hall.
âJust a few steps moreâŠâ
Could he see you? Was he taunting you on purpose? Perhaps part of the experiment?
The anxiety curled in your stomach, kept your footsteps slow and your breath shallow and a scream ready in your throat in case you needed it.
You were reluctant to speak. âSir?â You pressed your palm along the wall of the hall and began to peer around the corner, into a room on the left. Maybe Dr. Crane was waiting thereâŠ
A strange, strong mist invaded your senses as you turned the corner. Raring up the scream, you gasped and your eyes stung, resulting in a heavy cough that took a moment to die down. You braced yourself on the wall, holding yourself up as you tried to clear your eyes, clouded by tears from both the coughing and the mist burning your eyes. You watched the mist clear, breathing in desperately for air.
âShh, shh, shh, shh,â Dr. Crane's voice came, then his hands on your shoulders as he pulled you in and guided you into the room. âThat's good,â he bid.
He held you steady as you blinked rapidly and steadied your breath. âI took the liberty of testing my hypothesis that it would work faster if the patient is already running on adrenaline.â
You wiped the tears roughly from your eyes. âProfessor, whatâ?â
âHush,â he cut you off, bringing you to the bed. âSit here,â he said, lowering you down.
He pulled up a chair, sitting across from you before handing you a handkerchief. You took it greedily and began wiping your face. You sighed deeply into the fabric, holding your head in your hands as you adjusted.
âOkay,â he said, smiling. âNow that's doneâŠthe substance you've just inhaled is an aphrodisiac of my own design.â
You stilled entirely, looking up at him tentatively as your eyes widened. You blinked, shaking your head as you tried to organize your thoughts. It was an⊠anââAphrodisiacâŠâ you muttered.
âYes,â he nodded. âAphrodisiac.â
You were suddenly dizzy, processing his words too slowly as you put together what this meant. An experiment with an aphrodisiac⊠and you were the âfaceâ of it all?
âThe word itself comes from the Greek name âAphroditeâ, whichâI'm sure you knowâis the Greek goddess of Sex.â You looked up at him as he began explaining, rolling up the sleeves of his white button down and dusting off his black slacks. Adjusting his glasses on his nose, he continued, âAs far as the function of the substance is concerned, it affects hormone levels and accelerates blood flood, increasing chemicals in your brain likeâdopamine, glutamic acid, nitric oxide, oxytocin to enhance sexual arousal.â He sounded like he was reading straight out of a book as he spoke with his hands, illustrating the drug to you to paint pretty pictures for you to apply to what was happening to you, in your own body.
It was getting warm, the physical exertion from the adrenaline, likely. The suspense and anxiety from before, along with the shock of Dr. Crane's mist had thrust you into an adrenaline rush. That was surely all it was.
âIt relaxes smooth muscles,â he continued. âStimulates erections, increases arousal.â
You fought the urge to clench your thighs at the idea of it. He was your psych professor and you were his student, and he was testing aphrodisiacs on you and telling you how it made boners and stiff nipples and fucking arousal.
âProfessor,â you muttered.
He stopped you, raising a finger. âPlease hold. I'm not finished.â He cleared his throat and thought for a moment. âWhere was I? Aphrodisiacs are commonly found in natural foods or herbs, though the change in sexual desire is usually unnoticed when these substancesâlike chocolates, most commonly, or oysters and figs and strawberriesâare consumed.â
You clenched the handkerchief in your hand, rubbing your palms against your thighs roughly. âProfessor Crane.â You felt like your head was beginning to spin.
He sighed at you, seemingly disappointed. âI hope you're interrupting me for a good reason.â
You stared at him straight on, nearly glaring as a thin layer of sweat began to form over your skin. âIt's hot,â you huffed.
âWell, that's to be expected,â he shrugged. He looked you up and down, smiling with a gentle chuckle. âHow rude of me. How are you feeling?â
You brought the handkerchief to your forehead, breathing uneasily. âHot.â
âAs you've already stated.â He waved his hand dismissively. âWhat else?â
You didn't want to say: considering the heat was spreading through your body and scouring your nerves with a flush of lust. The last thing you wanted to do was explain that you were horny to your professor.
He tilted his head at your hesitation, noticing the way you turned away, closed yourself off. He raised a brow. âCome on,â he bid. He didn't sound like he was encouraging you, he sounded like he was taunting you. âDon't leave any details. This is an experiment, might I remind you. If you leave anything out, it could hinder the research.â
âUm,â you struggled, your voice trembling a little. You felt like your whole body would soon follow suit. You felt shaky, like youâd fall if you tried to stand. âUh.â You couldnât figure out what to sayâit was humiliating to say the least, looking at your professor and forcing your eyes to stay on his face, because fuckâŠyou wanted him so bad.
He raised a brow, waiting expectantly, âWell?â
You couldnât. âI donât know,â you muttered. âItâs just hot.â
He reached his hand out and pressed the back of his palm to your forehead. The coolness of his skin against the heat of your face was like a salve to a cruel burn. You leaned into him, stifling your moan as best you could as your eyes fluttered at the contact. It felt so good.
âMm,â he hummed, pretending not to notice your weakness as he shifted his hand to your temple. âYouâre burning up.â You knew he was taunting you when his hand slipped down to your neck, pressing against your scorching skin and sending goosebumps through your body. Your heart felt like it would leap out of your chest any time soon.
When he pulled his hand away, you felt like you could die on the spot as the fever-like heat came back immediately after. You tried to remain impartial, shaking your head to gather your thoughts enough to speak.
âWhy couldnât you have just performed the experiment on your own?â you questioned, wiping your forehead roughly to be rid of the light sheen of sweat coating your skin. âI donât see how an external test subject was necessary.â Remaining as professional as possible seemed like your best course of action. Insanity or not, this was still a testâyou were sure of itâand there was no way you would fail a personal test with Professor Crane and risk falling from such high esteem with him.
He reached behind him where his suit jacket lay neatly on the back of his seat. He removed a second handkerchief from an inside pocket with a dramatic whip, taking his glasses off to clean them as he shook his head. âNo, no, no,â he said. âIf my theory is correct, the test must be performed with another person present. The substance works by increasing adrenaline. Itâs quite similar to my fear toxin.â
You shook your head, âFear toxinââ
âThe adrenaline builds and builds,â he continued, cutting you off with little regard for you, as he glanced through the lenses, âincreases the heart rate so much thatâif left unresolvedâthe subject would experience a heart rate so highâŠâ He finished polishing them off before replacing his glasses on the bridge of his nose and directing his analytical gaze toward you once more. With a lurking smile full of sadistic amusement, he spoke in a low voice, â...your little heart would burst in your chest.â
The anxiety curled in your chest until it began its fast evolution to fear. All these emotions mixing within you wasnât good for your healthâand, apparently, neither was this toxin he had infected you with. â...What?â you said. It was the only thing you could manage to say.
He shrugged, tilting his head with a slight roll of his eyes. âWell,â he began to correct himself, ânot literally, of course. Itâs highly improbable. But your heart would justâŠstop.â His eyes seemed to darken as he explained it to you, staring too deeply into your own anxious gaze as he seemed to enjoy every minute of this. With a breath, he began again. âAnd while my toxin has an antidote, there is only one way to reverse the effects of this aphrodisiac.â
You swallowed thickly. âWhich is?â
He smirked, though he tried to hide it. âSexual gratification.â
If you werenât burning up, your blood would run coldâŠand then youâd run just as hot as you were running now. Your head was definitely spinning now, images of forbidden desiresâwhich you had pushed down, down to the depths of your mindâflooding to the surface. So many fantasies, so many urges, being unlocked once more as you thought aboutâŠreversing the effects.
But, for the millionth time, he was your professor. It didnât matter how many times youâd fantasized about him having you on your knees, his hands in your hair, his lips all over your bodyâŠit couldnât happen. It shouldnât happen.
You tried not to clear your throat. It would make you more guilty than you already were. âW-wellââ Damn it, you cringed. ââeven if thatâs trueâŠgratification can beâŠachieved throughâŠâ
He raised a brow, happy to mock you. âThrough?â
You took in a steadying breath, looking down at your legs to avoid looking up at him. Your skin was burning, your nerves were tingling with an increasing desire âThrough self-pleasure. Masturbation. Couldnât it?â You were already this far, there was no use in being shy.
But even thenâŠ
He tilted his head, sighing. âUnfortunately, no,â he said. âYou see, once it has been ingested in any form, only another person's hormones can slow the processâwhich is why youâre still so in control right nowââ you didnât feel in control, ââbut even that isnât enough. In males, sexual gratification can only be achieved by the release of semen when mixed with a womanâs arousal. Likewise, for a female subject, gratification can only be met through insemination.â
He said it so quickly, so nonchalantly. You had no time to process as you blinked rapidly. âInsemââ
âTherefore, a partner is necessary for the experiment, and only a partner of the opposite sex is truly effective, soâŠI suppose thatâs a loss for the homosexuals, hm?â He shrugged, amused by his own joke.
Pain spasmed in your stomach, a sharp stab in your gut and a stinging sensitivity to everything your skin came in contact with. âFuck,â you sighed, folding over slightly just as a growing migraine became present enough to matter.
He sighed. âLanguage, please.â
You rubbed your palms harshly against your eyes, forcing your fingertips against your temple in a useless attempt to ease the pain roaring in your head, sacrificing the stabbing in your gut. âIt hurts.â It took everything not to sob.
He turned his head. âWhat kind of pain?â
âAll of the above,â you said impatiently, your voice breaking. âIt hurts.â
He hummed and leaned forward. âAnd where does it hurt the most?â He gestured to your general body. âOr is it just about the same everywhere?â
âIt'sâŠâ you hesitated, âeverywhere.â
Crane tilted his head, looking at you with a glow of disappointment. He removed his glasses with a sigh, setting them to the side and directing his attention entirely on you.
âNow, my dear,â you shuddered at the name, âThis doesn't work if you aren't being completely and entirely honest with me. I am quite content to sit here and watch you succumb to my little toxin.â A wash of shock overtook you, your palpitating conflicted between beating too fast and stopping all together.
He continued, a taunting grin curving his lips as he gave you his cold stare. âWithout me to help you,â he shrugged, âyou have no way of reversing the effects. I'll say you came down with a sudden fever, one you just couldn't fight.â
The hair along your arms stood tall. He couldn't be serious, it was a joke⊠But when have you known Jonathan Crane to joke?
âButâŠâ you fumbled, trying to decide what to say, âBut I've been perfectly healthy. Why would people believe you?â
He tilted his head, looking at you like you were just the cutest, dumbest little thing. âThis is Gotham, sweetheart.â He shrugged dismissively. âPeople die every day, and no one fucking cares.â
Breathing heavily, you put a hand over your stomach and let out a pained moan. You thought to yourself, over his words. You shook your head, not meeting his eyes.
âCramps.â
He raised a brow questioningly. âHm?â
âThe pain,â you stated. âStomach cramps, tender nipples andâŠand clitoris. Even the fabric of my clothes is too much. It hurts.â You ignored the heat in your face. It didn't matter nowâthe insecurity, the awkwardness. It was strictly scientific. Of course, it was.
âVery good,â he grinned, leaning back and crossing his legs. âTell me more.â
âTunnel vision, dizziness, migraine, short breath. It's like⊠it's almost like a panic attack.â
âIs that all?â
âIt's really hot,â you huffed, another pained moan escaping through your unsteady breaths. âI'm really hot.â It didn't matter. âFuck, professor, I need you.â
âWhat's that?â The fucker was getting off on teasing you like this, mocking you like it was his only pleasure in life.
âI need you,â you urged, trying not to sound as whiny as you feel.
âIs that so?â he raised a brow, smirking. âHave you told me everything then?â
âYes, everything. Please.â
âAre you certain?â he pushed.
You felt the wet on your cheek and realized your need and the pain had reached your eyes, the tears welling along your waterline and dropping down in one streak down your face. âPlease, I'll do anything!â
He paused slightly. âWhat's that?â
You reached out and grabbed his hands, pulling them into your lap. There was only one way to ease the pain, the heat, the desire. And you were set on it.
âI'll do anything! Just please, fuck me. Please,â you gasped, pushing through the pounding in your head and the fire in your core.
âWell,â he sighed, pulling his hand from your grasp to check his watch. He tsked to himself, thinking before he hummed. âI suppose I can do that.â
You could have criedâyou were crying. âThank you,â you sighed. âThank you.â
âBut,â he pointed a finger at your face, as though you were a dog being disciplined, âyou must do as I say.â
You nodded urgently. âYes, sir.â
âGood girl.â You shuddered at his words, the praise washing over you like a wave swallowing you whole as you lay on the sandy shore of a beach.
He snapped at you, indefinitely grabbing your attention as he pointed to the space in front of him. You stood from the bed in a moment, your weak legs barely holding you up.
His hands landed on your waist, and you nearly melted at the contact. He turned you around in his hands, looking you up and down with an appreciative moan. âLet's see what we're working with,â he said. âStrip.â The order was plain and simple.
You did as you were told, trying not to be shy about it. He didn't care about shyness, and it didn't matter anyway.
You began peeling your clothes off, moving faster with each inch of skin revealed. Once you were bare in front of him, you fought the overwhelming urge to cover yourself. He wanted to see you, to see what you had to offer.
He hummed to himself, snapping again. âOn your knees.â Again, you did as you were told.
Moving to your knees, he took your face in his large hands. You melted against him, your eyes fluttering shut as a deep moan escaped you. His hands felt so cool in comparison to your burning skin. If you weren't so desperate for more of what he had to offer, you would be perfectly content with sitting here and having him hold you like this.
When his hands lightly smacked your cheeks, your eyes snapped open as you brought yourself out of the sticky feeling of the subtle pleasure. âKeep your eyes open. And open your mouth.â
You parted your lips, and he slipped his thumb between them and pried your mouth open wide. He set his thumb on your tongue, pulling it over your bottom set of teeth and pushing his thumb farther into your mouth. Your breaths blew over his skin as he felt the softness of your cheeks, your tongue.
He surprised you when his hand was suddenly between your thighs, his fingers stroking through your folds as you gasped. âJesus, you're fucking dripping.â He ran his fingers along your lower lips and the insides of your thighs where the arousal was smothered halfway down your thighs.
You whimpered and whined when he shoved his middle and ring fingers inside of you without warning, delving them into your hot, dripping, tight pussy. You tried not to squirm at the way his fingers wiggled inside you.
âYes,â he sighed. âThis'll do nicely.â
He pulled them out of you, shoving those same fingers between your lips to make you taste your arousal. âSuck,â he commanded. You obeyed.
You suckled around his fingers and felt another rush of molten arousal wash through you at the way he stares at you, his eyes dark and primal. You needed him.
âStrip me,â he said, pulling his hand away. From your knees, you unbuttoned his shirt and removed it, letting your hands press against the expanse of his chest and soothe you the slightest bit. You unbuckled his best and shoved his pants down his legs, removed it from his body like undoing ropes tying him to a chair.
You stared at his briefs, his half-hard erection tenting them as he enjoyed the sight of your mindless struggling. He placed a hand in your hair, gripping a fistful and holding you securely. âNow be a good girl and suck my cock.â
You pulled his boxers down without hesitation and only faltered as you saw him for the first time. This was absurd. You never thought you'd find yourself in this situationâstaring at your professorâs erection, long and hard and flushed with his own lust for your body, about to wrap your lips around it.
You gripped him in your hand and he stifled a grunt at the feeling of your insistence. You stroked him a few times before sticking your tongue out and licking a long strip up the underside of his cock, tasting his precum beading at the tip and immediately becoming addicted to the taste. Whether it was him or just his toxin, the taste of him was mesmerizing, and you would do anything for more.
You wrapped your lips around him, suckling around the tip and taking him deeper. He let his head fall back just a bit, still watching you as his thighs clenched and his hair gripped your hair tighter. He did not guide you or push you down, he didn't think he needed to. You surprised him as you bobbed your head up and down his cock, taking him farther and farther down with each trip back and forth until he was filling your throat with his length and making you gag.
He grunted as you suckled some more. Your cunt clenched around nothing, aching for any kind of pressure as your clit pulsed and your walls fluttered. You ran a hand down your body, dipping between your thighs to try and ease some of the tension. You pressed down hard on your clit one time, a moan coming from your throat and shivering through his spine.
He pulled you by your hair off of his cock. âDid I say you could touch yourself, sweetheart?â You shook your head pathetically. âThen why are you doing it?â
You couldn't win this, you knew that. Using your desperation as regret, you frowned and whispered, âSorry, sir.â
He loosened his grip enough to let you get back to work, still holding onto you as he leaned back again. Your lips found his cock once more, addicted and able to ignore the burn for now, a short escape from the pain.
You swirled your tongue around him, suckling as you went along. Crane stared at you with a dark gaze as you sucked him off. You flattened your tongue against him, going farther down his length with each swallow around his tip. Sticky white precum continued to seep from his slit and onto your tongue. You were drunk on the taste of him, taking him as best you could.
Crane looked like a dream, his head tilted back and his lips parted as you brought him closer and closer to a great release. Both his hands were tangled in your hair by now, holding on to you and his remaining control.
He was right about the hormones. Being this close to him, inhaling the scent of his cologne, the scent of his skin swirling around your head, was easing the searing desperation.
You felt him twitching on your tongue and suckled around him a little more. He was close, you could feel it. You didn't know if it was his toxin or not, but the idea of him spilling all over your tongue drove you crazy with lust.
He began to tense and groaned. âAnd that's enough of that,â he huffed, pulling you off of him by your hair and keeping you back, even through your attempts at licking the precum spilling from his tip.
âMy, my,â he breathed. âSuch a desperate little thing.â
You caught your breath as you spoke, your lips swollen and your eyes hooded as you did. âI need you,â you begged, gripping his thighs tight.
âWell,â he stood, snapping and gesturing for you to stand as wellâyou obeyed. âYou'll have to be patient, sweetheart. I'm not through with my tests yet.â You whined. âLay down.â
You did as told once again. He looked over your body, running a finger down the center of you, from your collarbone to your pelvis. You shuddered and whimpered but said nothing.
âI don't have any cuffs in here, so a tie will have to work.â He found his jacket draped along the back of his chair and pulled the tie neatly tucked inside of it out.
You held your breath as he reached for your hands, grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head. He put them around the bars of the headboard and, with more skill than you expected, tied them together to keep you bound there.
He gave a content sigh at the sight of you, smiling to himself. His eyes found yours as his fingertips grazed your side âNow, you can be as loud as you want. No need to hold back. We're all alone in here.â
He stood over you as his palm smoothed along your skin, reaching further down until he found your mound, slick and hot and waiting for something to slip inside it.
Your breath quickened in anticipation, waiting for him to make his move as his fingers played with your skin. Holding eye contact, he slipped his finger inside of you, parting your folds and burying itself in deep.
Your head lolled back as you moaned, the sound sticky with lust. He sank in deep, inch by torturous inch. You held your breath in your, feeling each little bit disappear, knuckle by knuckle, inside.
A second finger joined the first, spreading you open for him. They thrust and curled inside you. You moaned and found yourself grinding your hips into his palm. You needed more, more of him, the bliss of his fingers spread through your body to ease the fire and feed it all at the same time.
âProfessor,â you whimpered. âMore, please.â
âHm?â he taunted. âThat's not enough for you? You need more?â
âYes, please,â you gasped.
You clenched around his fingers, feeling him pumping his fingers in and out of you. He curled them against a sweet spot deep within your dripping cunt, exploring your body and becoming familiar with each little nook and cranny. Your back arched and your moans were loud in the space of the bedroom. You had never felt so good before, just by his hands alone.
When his speed increased, you thought you would cry. The dizziness was eased by his pleasure, the headache had waned enough for you to see, and the pain in your stomach had simmered to a dull ache. But his fingers stuffed inside only seemed to heighten the heavy pulse in her veins.
You pulled at the tie wrapped around your wrists as you whined. âProfessor, please,â you huffed. âI can't take it. Iâfuckâneeda cum.â
Letting out what seemed to be a disinterested sigh, he shrugged. âSince you want it so badâŠâ His thumb pressed against your clit and your back arched slightly at the contact.
You cursed breathily, seeing stars as the pleasure grew and grew and grew at the expertise of his hand. You thought you were going to explode, reaching your peak far too quickly as a knot began to build in your stomach. You tensed, clenching around his fingers as he spread them and curled them and pumped them in and out of you.
âFuck, can I cum?â you moaned. âPlease, professor, I need it so bad.â
He didnât answer you, rubbing your clit in tight, fast circles as he felt you flutter around his fingers, he listened to your unsteady breath and felt your trembling thighs. You could feel yourself reaching that point, on the verge of finding that blissâŠ
You whimpered meekly when he suddenly stopped. Watching you with a dark smile, he chuckled as you squirmed and tried to move your hips against his hand. A tear slipped down the side of your face as the pain returned, sharper this time and spreading through your body like youâd been shocked.
âDr. Crane, please,â you cried, squirming like a worm on a hook.
He laughed at you, looking your body up and down as he disregarded your need and spoke. âHow do you feel?â he asked.
Another tear joined the first. âPlease, I canât.â
He tutted, shaking his head. âAh-ah. Answer my question or Iâll stop completely.â
âNo!â you exclaimed. âPlease, it hurts. So bad, everything hurts.â
He nodded, âGood girl.â He rewarded you with the movement of his hand once more, filling you back up with his fingers and thrusting them into you.
You were blinded by the pleasure and continued to ride it out, unknowingly that he was beginning a cycle. He would have you crying, breaking down in tears and so desperate to cum all over his hand, only to rob you of such pleasure every time you got close to tasting it. And it hurt. All of it hurt, like you were being burned alive. The imaginary flames licked at your flesh and threatened to sear it off your bones.
You didnât know how many times heâd done this cruel act upon you, how long youâd been laying there with your legs spread open wide and his fingers shoved inside of you, too caught up in the pain and the ecstasy of it all. âC-Crane,â you muttered, your lips and your tongue lazy with dissatisfaction. âPlease.â
You could tell how fun this experiment was for him, and not even in just the sadistic way. He watched you closely, his eyes hooded and dark and his cheeks pink. His cock was still hard, maybe harder still in a painful way that your useless sounds helped him to ignore.
He hummed deeply, considering another dance with desperation. But he let out a deep sigh and shrugged. âI suppose,â he said, his thumb, which had been lazily rubbing too-slow circles on your clit, picking up once again.
And you were so scared it was a trick, that he would pull away and leave you to sob again at the loss of stimulation. The knot built, the dam overflowed, and as you reached your breaking point, you gasped when it all came loose. Your back arched, and you went blind as the pleasure crashed down on you like nothing youâd ever felt.
You cried out his nameâor some garbled version of his name that came with not being in touch with your own body. You moaned, breathing too fast and dizzying yourself with your harsh breaths as you did. Crane smiled as he watched you, coaxing you through it as he noted just how good this orgasm must have felt for you.
âLook at you go,â he smiled, still rubbing your clit as he watched the last spasms of pleasure shoot through you. You were so pretty like this, writhing in bed as you came on his hand for the first time, whimpering and whining like a dog.
He pulled his hand from you, darting his tongue to lick the bottom lip of his wolfish grin.
As you began to settle, you let in a deep breath to fill your lungs, laying back lazily as you were offered a moment of stillness. All the pain from before was gone, the thumping in your heart calmed to a slightly quickened ut otherwise rhythmic beat. You could breathe.
Crane was staring at his watch, looking between you and it as he seemed to time something. You paid him little mind, soaking up the calm for as long as you had it.
It was all too soon that the pain began to slip back in, first as a distant sting in your head, then as the dull ache in your stomach. As your breath sped again at the slowly increasing ache, so too did your heart once more. Then the sensitivity of your skin, the burn of your goosebumps rubbing against the sheets or clashing cruelty with the air.
Unable to take so much, you began to cry. âProfessor,â you spoke shakily. âFuck, it hurts. It fucking hurts so bad. I can'tâI can't, I can't.â
âTwo minutes and seventeen seconds,â he stamped. âIt took two minutes for the aphrodisiac to kick in again after the first orgasm has been reached.â
He stared at you, rubbing his bottom lip and sighing with a distant smile. âOh, the things I want to do to you,â he mumbled. âTo make you cum over and over and over again until you're,â he sighed longingly, his eyes fluttering and his jaw clenching with an urge he tried to conceal, âsobbing, trembling in my hands, begging me to stop.â
You shuddered, wanting it so badly but also dreading the opposite of this torture, where you would never stop shaking, never be able to calm as he pulled an orgasm after you one right after the other.
He shook himself out of his daydream. âBut, I'm not sure how long you've got. That's an experiment for another day.â
You wanted to say something, but you were at your point in desperation where words were harder and harder to form unless the adrenaline really kicked in.
He positioned himself on the bed, his hand smoothing over your sides. âI bet you need me now, don't you?â Whining pathetically and not caring anymore about sounding decent, you nodded. âYes, you do. You need me to fuck you, hhh? Take you nice and rough from behind. You need me to fuck you nice and deep, little slut?â
You nodded again, crying, âPlease.â
He stood on his knees in front of you, taking your body in his hands and flipping you around, not caring for a moment that you were still tied to the bed frame with your arms now crossed.
He pulled you up on your knees and put your ass on display for him. His hands slapped down on your ass, rubbing harshly on the skin as you whined.
âBe a good girl and beg me to fuck you, sweetheart,â he breathed.
Had you not begged enough? You couldn't count the amount of times you'd told him âPlease, professor, please,â and been denied for the sake of his sadism?
Still, you were desperate and you could care less at the moment about his urge to humiliate you. So you did beg, your pounding heart squeezing tears out of your eyes.
âPlease, Crane,â you sobbed. âPlease, I need you so fucking bad. It hurts, please.â
You were about to continue pouring your heart out when he cut you off. âOkay, okay,â he chuckled. âCalm down. It's not that serious.â
He took his cock in his hand, stroking himself a couple times as he spread your folds for him. In one push, he buried himself to the hilt inside of your tight pussy. He groaned roughly as you clenched around his cock and moaned.
âSo fucking tight,â he sighed. âYou've been needing this, haven't you?â
You moaned deep in your throat, melting at the feeling of him buried so deep. He chuckled, high off the sight of you so weak. He pulled out of you, an agonizingly slow drag that burned at your nerves until he suddenly thrust back in with a harsh thrust. You lost your breath, your lungs squeezed tight at the pleasure.
He grunted, doing it again and again and again as he just kept holding you tighter, pulling you back to meet each thrust. The smack of his hips against your ass was loud and followed in quick succession as he gave you no time between each thrust to recover.
You felt like your brain had melted, reduced to. a pile of mush in your head as you let yourself be devoured by the pure ecstasy of each thrust staving off the pain of the toxin burning you out.
You gripped the sheets, clenching and unclenching and trying so hard to keep it together as he split you open on his cock.
Crane was hardly keeping it together himself, gripping your waist as he fucked into you from behind. His hair had fallen over his eyes, which were dark and crazed. He had you in his clutchesâyou, his prey and he, your predator, his teeth and claws in your flesh and bone.
âIs this everything you imagined?â he huffed, bringing a hand to wrap around your throat and pull you up.
You clenched tighter around him and felt your limbs going weakâif he hadn't been holding you up, you would have fallen against the bed again.
âW-What?â you gasped, small and pathetic.
He laughed darkly. âYou think I didn't know? What, you thought I couldn't see the way you stared at me during my lectures? You thought I didn't see your glances at my crotch, wondering how big my cock was? Huh? How good it would feel if I fucked you?â
You just kept moaning, unable to hold in your pleasures sobs. He fucked you a little harder, pulling more and more out of you as he did. âWhy do you think I chose you, huh?â he taunted, laughing again. âYou were perfect for the role. My cock hungry student who would do anything to impress me. Fuck, you were practically begging to be the subject of this experiment.â
It was hard to listen to him when you could barely focus on your own pleasure. Your arousal was dripping down your thighs, coating you in slick. He just kept fucking you, drunk on the pleasure.
âN-Need,â you stuttered, trying to form the words as your tongue was not your own. âMm-fuck, needa cum.â
He didn't say anything this time as he pressed his finger to your clit. You went limb, letting yourself fall onto the bed as you whined pathetically.
âLook at you,â he smiled, his head tilted back as he relished in the squeeze of your cunt. âMy little fucking whore. Does it feel good?â He laughed again, rubbing your clit a little faster. âAre you gonna cum on my cock like a pathetic slut? Hm?â
To answer his question, you did. You let out a choked cry when you came, your eyes rolling back as you went blind with the pleasure that crashed down on you. Your whole body shattered, and your thighs shook at the pleasure.
âOh, fuck,â he huffed as you began tighter, your pussy fluttering around him and only bringing him closer to his own longed-for release. âThat's a good fucking girl.â
Your head was filled with white-noise as you floated in that space between orgasms, where your whole body was numb to everything else going on. As he kept fucking you, it didn't last long. You came to and found yourself thrown into another dance of lust.
You chased the pleasure, pleading for it to swallow you whole as you took all that he gave to you. âYou like that? You like being ruined by me? Hm?â he breathed, still rubbing your clit, even as you squirm.
You didn't respond, overcome by whining moans. But that was more amusing. âI know you do,â he said. âYou liked being fucked dumb, don't you?â
His hips continued to snap into yours, shoving deeper and rougher. His finger on your clit continued to build you up, higher and higher.
âAre you gonna cum again?â he asked, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he kept fucking into you. âYeah? You're squeezing my cock like you are.â
You managed to nod your head and nothing more, the knot building again in your stomach getting so tight, so close to another blinding release. You braced for it as it grew closer.
âFuck, I'm gonna cum, too,â he breathed. âGonna cumâso deep inside you. You'll be dripping with me, sweetheart.â
You mewled, closer and closer toâ
A loud cry tore from your throat as you came again, blinded and devoured and reduced to nothing but a sobbing mess as the pleasure shook through your body like a rattle.
Unable to hold himself in anymore, he moaned roughly as he spilled so deep inside of you. He gripped you roughly, pulling you back against his cock as he buried himself deep, grinding into you as he fucked his cum inside so you were stuffed with it.
âFuck, I love this tight little cunt,â he huffed. âPerfect for me.â Your pussy fluttered around him, squeezing him tight as you squelched and gushed around him.
You lay limp against the sheets as the blood roared in your ears. After a moment, when he'd caught his breath and came down from his high, he pulled out of you and let you fall against the bed.
He breathed, letting out a deep sigh. He looked down at you, your spent body still shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure. He picked up your leg, pulling it apart to see your pussy, stuffed and leaking his cum.
He could have cum again at the mere sight of you, your messiness, your exhaustion. He dropped your leg and sat next to your limp body.
âNow,â he said, another breath leaving his lungs. âHow do you feel?â
You just lay there, letting out a tiny moan after a while as your only response as you tried to recover. All the pain had disappeared, and all that was left was the heaviness in your limbs and the sore muscles to come.
He hummed a laugh. âI bet.â He reached for his glasses, putting them on the bridge of his nose once more and adjusting them.
He stood, walking somewhere in the room as your eyes followed him. When he picked up a camera hidden in the corner capturing everything that just happened, you couldn't do anything but think about how you wanted to watch it back and see just how much he'd wrecked your body.
He stopped the recording, setting the camera down with a smile. He looked at you again, kneeling in front of the bed as he rested his chin on his hands. âSo many things for us to do, so many experiments to run. And now I've got you,â he chuckled, âmy own personal lab rat.â
You watched him lazily, the exhaustion pulling at your system. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. You sighed into the kiss, moving as much as you could as your lips melded together. It breathed life into you, more life than it should have.
He pulled away all too soon, standing up and turning away from you as he left the room. You laid there a moment longer, thinking back over the events of the night. His own personal lab rat.
summary: "you're beautiful you know that love," tangerine said softly as if the declaration was a secret that only the space between you could know.
warnings: mention of a gun, injuries, blood
word count: 1.1k ; fluff
tangerine masterlist
you jolted awake, "what the hell," you mumbled.
eyes half open you patted around on the bed for your phone. the blaringly bright picture of a sunset staring back at you.
4:07am.
the noise that woke you up sounded again. banging at your front door. carefully you slipped out of bed and opened the drawer to your nightstand, grabbing the gun. slowly, you walked through the house creeping towards the door. the house felt eerily quiet more so than ever. the gun was held behind your back and before you could turn the doorknob you hear a voice.
"it's me."
you opened the door, "why are- jesus christ tangerine."
he smiled weakly at you, sort of shrugging, the suit jacket draped over his arm moving with.
"hey, love," he said dejectedly.
his typically smoothed back hair showed no sign of gel as his curls were a mess. the fitted suit that adorns his body was now loose with blood splattered sporadically on the fabric. the button-down shirt rolled up on his arms exposed his battered forearms. there was dirt on parts of his face, dried blood across his cheek and forehead, and a split lip.
"come in," you whispered, grabbing his hand pulling him in.
you locked the door and turned to the kitchen with tangerine still in tow. you turned the lights on in the kitchen, grabbing him water and pain reliever.
"eat these if you need something. i'm going to grab the first aid kit, alright?" you placed a box of crackers next to him on the counter and retreated to a hallway closet. when you came back, he was munching on a few and the glass of water in his other hand.
"okay now, what's the worst?"
"some prick got me in the thigh with glass," he grimaced gesturing to the torn trousers. you leaned in gently placing your hands on his thigh around the cut.
"take your pants off."
"well, that's quite forward love now, innit?" tangerine chuckled softly.
all you could do was roll your eyes as you turned around giving him a moment to hop off the counter and remove his pants. when you turned back around you couldn't help but swallow harshly at the man's muscular thighs.
"there's still bits of glass in this babes, i'm gonna have to take it out," tangerine hummed in response, clearly tired from whatever job he just came back from.
you grabbed a pair of tweezers and removed small pieces of glass left inside the wound and all tangerine could do was hiss in response. the wound was then cleaned and after tangerine gave you the greenlight, he let you stitch him up.
"now don't go fuckin' around you hear me. that's a good stitch," you said pointing at the finished product.
"yeah whatever darlin'," tangerine retorted.
you moved up to his face to clean the dirt and blood off him. you slid between his legs to get closer, fingertips accidently brushing over his thigh as you grabbed the rag next to him on the counter. you didn't notice the goosebumps that sprang to life on his skin and raced throughout his body. your lips were slightly pursed as the rag glided across his cheeks, wiping away the evidence of an earlier job.
tangerine couldn't help but stare at you during your concentration. the way your eyes danced across his face inspecting every minute detail. your eyelashes- god since when were they that long? he couldn't help the tiny smile that etched its way onto his lips hearing the small whistle your nose made as you breathed in and out. it was something you mentioned in passing that you hated, after your nose was broken on a job. small freckles decorated the bridge of your nose, and a now almost faded scar followed the curve of your cheekbone.
"you're beautiful you know that love," tangerine said softly as if the declaration was a secret that only the space between you could know.
you faltered slightly. you and tangerine were friends. any compliments thrown each other's way was typically about work. you often worked with the twins on jobs so the three of you were close. the dynamics on and off the job the three of you had was truly incredible. many people wanted the trio because they knew the job would be a success, most likely bloody, but still successful.
to even try and deny the fact that tangerine is gorgeous was absolutely ridiculous. when you first saw him, you truly went breathless for a moment. there was no way this man was in the business of killing was one of your first thoughts, he had to be a model of some sort. and as if his looks weren't enough, when he wasn't being a complete dickhead, he had the most charming and witty personality. it was intimidating being around him most times, the feeling of insecurity often loomed around you when he was nearby.
you looked him in the eye before averting your attention to his split lip, "why didn't you go home?"
"found myself wandering this way," he said slipping off the counter.
"bit far from your house," you whispered in return. tangerine brushed a strand of hair out of your eye, his thumb running over your cheek.
"no distance is too far for you, darlin'."
you aren't quite sure where these confessions were coming from, but you would be a fool to say you hated it. it was obvious how you felt about tangerine. you knew it, he knew it, lemon knew it, damn near everyone knew it.
"i didn't know you could be a sap," you gave him a slight smirk.
his eyes fluttered shut for a moment, "today was too risky, thought i could solo it, make some extra money. it was stupid. all i could think about was you," he confessed.
you toyed with the gold chain hanging on his exposed chest before gently tugging on it, bringing him to you. the kiss was soft but long. in the midst of the kiss tangerine had placed you on the counter, finding home between your legs and holding your waist carefully. your hands situated on the base of his skull tugging ever so slightly on his hair. tangerine's mouth parted slightly in reaction allowing you to bite gently on his lip, ignoring the fact you can taste blood. with a sigh you both finally pulled apart. his hands never left your waist.
"c'mon, let's go to bed," you said.
tangerine wasted no time scooping you up in his arms, ignoring all the aches from today's job. 'i've waited months to hear these words,' he had muttered in your hair making his way through your house.
Carmy with a stressed cranky gf getting her degree and heâs just so good to her ughhhhhhh (so self-indulgent)
âCarmen, could youâcould you just, fuckinâââŠwatch where youâre going?â
He freezes where he took a misstep, leaving your laptopâs charger dangling near the floor after accidentally unplugging it. A simple little thing, a dumb mistake made while caught up in something else mentally. A matter of a charger extended beyond its comfortable reach. Itâd be fixed in seconds, but you werenât having it.
A confused look washes over him. âI-Iâm sorry, babyââ He knows youâre in one of those moodsâhe always knowsâand lowers to pick up the cord. âLemme plug it back in for youââ
âOr you could just not walk right into it,â you snap, fingers tapping away at your keyboard, face illuminated in a blueish hue from the screen.
âHey.â He perks right back up after fixing the charger, but you donât look back at him. âWhatâs the matter with you?â
âNothing.â
âDonât start that wâme, câmon.â He comes a little closer, perched at the end of the couch right beside you. âYouâre in a mood.â
âIâm not.â You definitely are.
âBaby.â Instinctively, his hand comes to rub your shoulder, his thumb presses just a little firmer along the crook of your neck. âTake a break for the night.â
âI need to finish up with thisââ
ââM not asking.â He gives you that look, with his hands extended to silently demand you hand over your computer. âItâs a Friday night. Câmon.â
You pout, and you huff, and you give him those eyes that tell him you donât want to, but you save your document and hand it over anyway, quickly curling into the end of the couch and not making a move when he sits next to you.
âYou mad at me?â he asks, looping his arm over your shoulder, a little hurt when you donât melt into his touch like you usually do.
You keep your eyes glued to the wall, not paying him any mind. âNo.â
âThen whyâre you always workinâ, huh?â He squeezes you a little tighter, bringing you deeper into his embrace as he cups your jawâwith those firm, strong hands of his that somehow always have you pliantâand turns you to look up at him. âEvery time I come home youâre on the computer with that look on your face.â
âI donât have a look.â
Smiling, he presses his lips to your forehead. âYeah you do.â Then to the furrow in your brow. âBut itâs cute.â
He scatters slow, gentle kisses across your face, from your temples, to your cheeks, to your jaw, until he finds your lips and takes them carefully, relishing in your act of apology when your hands circle around his forearms and kiss him a little deeper. And slowly, he feels the tenseness in your body begin to dissipate, feels you turn into him more.
Pulling away, still intent on figuring out your rut, he rests his forehead to yours. âTalk to me, baby. Whatâs got you actinâ all mean, hm?â His hands hold you close, and his thumbs graze your cheekbones. âSomethinâ I do you wanna talk about?â
âNoââ
âNo?â Heâd be lying if he said a wave of relief washed over him. âWhatâs goinâ on then?â
âIâmâitâs just thatââŠâ You sigh.
He waits patiently, knowing that by now heâs cracking open that shell. ââS alright, hon, we can work it out.â
âCarmen, I justââ And your lip quivers, and your throat gets sore, and your vision gets bleary from tears emerging. âI have so much to do, andââŠâ
âFor school?â
You nod against him. âItâs justâI get behind on one thing, and then thereâs five other things I need to do, and I try to get ahead but then I donât sleep, andâI-Iâm just stressed, is all.â
âI know.â He coos gently at you and thumbs away your tears. âI know, ân youâve been workinâ so hard, baby.â
âWell Iâm still not getting anywhere.â Your throat tightens, and tears keep falling, and you feel your resolve crumbling, the last of your strength dissolving now that Carmenâs handling you so gently. âAnd I just feel so stupid all the timeââ
âUh-uh,â he nudges his nose against yours, âYou donât get to say that, youâre the smartest person I know.â
He pulls you away carefully, just to look you in the eyeâand his gut wrenches, seeing you like this, all pouty and wet with tears, your lips salty when he kisses them slowly to mellow the racing of your heart.
With a calm hand he urges your head to rest against his chest, his lips lending a kiss to your temple. âSo fuckinâ smart ân you donât even know it.â Naturally, the rest of you follows, with his arms keeping you close, one wrapped around your waist to hold you tight as the other hand rests with on the back of your neck to soothe you, scratching gently at the nape of it. âAlways blowinâ me away, baby, youâre so smart. So hardworkinâ, tooââ
âBut Carmââ Your sobs choke you up then, and thereâs a throb in your forehead that has you almost begging for sleep.
âShhh, what is it?â His hand smooths up and down your back, his voice becomes gentler than ever. âTake a breath, câmon, take a deep breath.â
You push yourself away from his chest, seeing the tears staining his white tee before you look up at him. âIâm sorry, Bear. All the stress, itâsâIâve been so mean to you latelyââ you donât even process the vigorous shake of his headâ âIâm sorry, Bearââ
âHey, hey, baby, stopââ He wipes tears from your eyes before they get the chance to spill onto your cheeks. âStop with that, would ya?â Another kiss to your forehead has you melting. âYouâre okay. Weâre okay.â Another kiss, slower, to your sob-bitten lips, like he wants you to taste his forgiveness.
âBut I was mean to you, and Iâm sorryââ
His chest physically aches because he knows thereâs only so much he can do for you. âI know,â he tells you, âI know, baby, I got you. Itâs okay.â
âI promise donât mean it, Carmenââ
âYeah, I know that, hon.â Pulling you tight to his chest again, his strong arms wrap around you fully, and he presses kisses to the skin where heâs nuzzled into your neck. âYouâre workinâ yourself to the bone, yâknow that?â
âMhm,â you hum, just happy to be held, to be swallowed whole by his warmth.
âYou promise to rest up from now on?â
âMhm.â
âYeah? Not even listeninâ, huh?â
âMhm.â You burrow into him just a little deeper, eyes slipping shut.
He scoffs, but itâs full of love. âItâs gettinâ late now.â He shuffles you closer to him with little effort, hooking his hands beneath your thighs to encourage them around his hips. âLetâs get you tâbed, hm? Câmonââ he hoists you to his hip with a subtle gruntâ âUp you go, baby, thatâs itââ
And in the brief minute or two it takes for him to turn out the lights in your shared apartment, and the twenty-some paces to the bedroom, youâre lulled off to sleep in his embrace, stoking that fire in his chest that keeps him goingâbecause knowing you feel safe with him, secure with him, is all he really needs.
