#Scientist y/n | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

improbable-outset · 4 months

Text

📄 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Married couple, smut, lactation kink, breastfeeding, Cunnilingus, kissing. MINORS DNI!🔞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After you gave birth to your first daughter, Miguel spends the night admiring the changes that motherhood has done to your body.

The apartment finally hushed after hours of crying and whining. You finally put your baby to sleep, rocking her gently in your arms.

You gently placed her in the crib, taking one quick glance at her peaceful expression. A testimony of your growing family and your shared love with Miguel.

Her cheeks were plump, and she had crimson eyes and talons that mirrored her father’s features. However, she didn’t have the ability to control when they appeared— usually she was excited or agitated— so you would often have to give her mittens in public.

You checked the baby camera was fitted properly and the temperature of the room was okay before dimming the lights and exiting the nursery quietly.

There was a sense of solace that shrouded you as you made your way to the bedroom.

It had been two whole days you were home alone while Miguel was probably in another dimension. It was hard to predict when he'd come back home and the longer he was out, the more your heart yearned.

But the feeling quickly vanished as you saw a familiar figure outside your bedroom window.

Miguel swung into the bedroom balcony with his web before opening the balcony door to step inside. He had his full suit on but as soon as he was inside the bedroom, his mask fizzled out.

It had become a routine for him to use the balcony to get in the apartment rather than the front door to avoid getting spotted.

He ran a hand over his disheveled hair before his expression softened when he saw you. You must’ve looked exhausted because he was approaching you with caution.

“Hey you…” you closed the distance between the two of you and wrapped your arms around him. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer.

He leaned in to kiss you deeply, making up for all those hours you were separated.

He pulled back from the kiss while still keeping his arms around you. “Is she sleeping?”

“Yeah she’s asleep. Do you wanna see her?”

“In a bit,” he said before lifting you up in his arms briefly and placing you on the bed.

This caught you by surprise.

“Mig…”

You didn’t expect him to be this handsy with you as soon as he came home. But you weren’t complaining.

“You look tired, amor. I hate leaving you alone for so long,” He said, a tenderness in his voice. His hands ran over the thighs, feeling every inch like it was his first time touching you.

“It’s all part of duty though, right? I know you always come back.” You placed a soft kiss on his cheek, sealing your words.

“I missed you. Do you have any idea how badly I wanted to feel you.” He murmured, his lips grazed over the curve of your neck.

You could feel his hands hiking up under your shirt before removing it completely. His neediness, as well as his swift movements, added to your heightened libido.

“I missed you too Mig,”

You weren't wearing a bra so your breasts, that were swollen with milk, bounced with every movement you made.

“So full…” he kissed along your chest, deliberately avoiding the nipple while caressing your sides. He couldn’t get enough of you and being separated from you for this long only made him more desperate for your presence.

“Are you gonna start rambling about how a woman produces milk?” You arched your brow inquisitively when you noticed him inspecting your breasts. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss his biology rants.

Miguel didn’t talk much unless he needed to, but when he did, you would cherish every word that uttered from his mouth.

“I am now…” he swiped his thumb over one of your nipples, making you hiss. You were more sensitive now so you were very responsive to his minimal touches.

“Your body has developed glands and structures inside of your breast which are full of milk ducts.” As he explained this to you, some of the milk seeped out from your nipples. You shuddered in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry…that happens sometimes. I should’ve pumped out the milk before…” You said apologetically. You tried to slip off his grasp but he had a tight hold on you.

“What a mess…” he commented before giving your breast a gentle squeeze, watching more of your milk leaking down his hands.

Heat reached your cheeks as you noticed the way he was staring at the milk in fascinating.

You hissed again from his grip he had on your breast. You knew you had been hyper lactating but it was hard to predict when the milk would leak out like this.

Miguel moved his hands from your breast and over to his mouth and lapped up the milk that spilled over his knuckles.

You felt a wetness pool your panties as you watched him taste your milk. There was something enticing watching your husband drinking your milk straight from your body.

He then leaned into your breast again and inhaled your scent deeply. “We can’t let this go to waste,”

You didn’t need to think too deeply about what he meant.

Before you could even begin to speak, he licked one of your nipples, cleaning off the mess before latching his mouth around it.

The sudden sensation made you arch your back further into his mouth. You gripped onto his broad arms as he continued to suckle on your breast.

You soaked in the way he was completely indulging in your milk, his cheeks hollowing in with each suck.

You could feel your milk seeping through your nipples and into his mouth as he took his fill greedily.

After a while he released your nipple, letting out a small sigh of satisfaction. His mouth was slightly parted and his eyes were half-lidded.

You were too stunned by what had just happened and the words lodged in your throat. Miguel took your silence as an opportunity to reach for your lips and kissed you passionately.

You could taste the sweetness of your own milk from his mouth as he swiped his tongue over your lips. He pulled away, leaving you dazed.

“Did you enjoy that?” You finally asked.

“I did, we should do that more often,” The corner of his lips curved up. “But tell me, what hormones are responsible for lactation, hm?”

Again, he was asking a question and expecting an answer from you when you were dizzy with bliss and could barely speak.

It was definitely on purpose because it amused him how much of a mess he made out of you.

You tried to process his question and articulate an answer, even though you knew it was only going to feed into his ego.

“Hm…prolactin…oxytocin…” you breathed.

A grin formed on his lips, both from the state you were in and the satisfied answer you gave.

“My sweet and clever wife,”

His praise made your stomach flutter.

He hands reached over to the waist to remove your pants along with your panties, leaving you bare on the bed. As you lied on your back, you could feel his dick pressing against your clit through the digital suit as he crept closer.

He tapped on his watch and his suit pixelated away, revealing his chiseled body and his throbbing cock. The precum that was seeping from the tip was too tempting. But you forced yourself to stay grounded before you lost control in your lust.

“Miguel, I’m not on anything,” your voice was sharp with caution.

It had been too long since you both did anything intimate. Even during your pregnancy, you were focused primarily on your health and making sure your pregnancy went smoothly.

But as much as you yearned to feel Miguel inside you and the friction from his dick, you were smart enough to hold back.

You knew that you were more fertile after you gave birth, with an increased level of oestrogen, making you more susceptible to get pregnant again.

The last thing you wanted was an unexpected pregnancy when your hands were already full looking after your 5-month-old daughter.

Miguel kept his gaze at you. “You are breastfeeding,”

Your clit was throbbing, desperate for his touch. But you weren’t going to cave in.

“Better to be safe than sorry.”

Miguel lowered himself to reach for your thighs and dipped his head lower until he was facing between your legs. All you could focus on now was his exhales fanning on your soaked cunt.

“I guess we could find an alternative tonight…”

You couldn’t fully process his statement before you felt his tongue drag over your folds. The sudden contact made you clamp your legs around his head.

You reached over and ran your hands over his hair.

He knew that area was more delicate now after you gave birth. You could feel him trying to be gentle with you while eating you out.

It made your heart stutter.

But even if he was giving you a soft treatment, your senses were still firing and you could feel heat building up in your core.

“Miguel…” you moaned lowly.

He hummed against your core in response, sending a tantalising vibration through your spine.

He was trying not to flicker his tongue too deep into your cunt to avoid hurting you. Every juice that was leaking from you was quickly licked off by him.

Between your thighs, you could see him looking back up at you, watching your reaction while drinking up his fill of you and coaxing your orgasm.

It’s been a while since your pussy had any attention, causing you to be pent up with tension.

You came sooner than you anticipated, most likely from how sensitive you were. You arched your back with a long moan. Everything that squirted from your cunt was licked off from his tongue.

You were limp on the sheets, drenched in the afterglow. Your legs released their grip around Miguel's head as he pulled himself away from you. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

There was a sudden sound of crying coming from the next room. Your daughter had woken up.

Miguel got himself off the bed. “I’ll get her, you stay.”

You nodded mutely, giving him the chance to bond with your daughter after two days of being without her.

He left the room but not before putting his sweat pants on. You, on the other hand, were left on the bed to catch your breath.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @ghost-lantern @ultravioletrayz @lazyjellyfish300 @xxsugarbonesxx @zg0nuwa @laysmt @club-danger-zone @farrowroyale @hwasoup @da-h0manb3an @animequeen4 @francesca-the-1st @montyrokz @s0fia4 @f1-hoff @alyeskathewave @princesatracionera @ssleepycenzi @coyfesh @chrishy973 @ginanet @ilovetaquitosmmmm @twistxdx @pxtched @flordelalunas @nommingonfood @fairywitch2000

1K notes · View notes

letsmcfreackingloseit · 6 months

Text

So yes I have OF COURSE read @naffeclipse new fic Apex Polarity and yes, I AM OBSESSED!

So I decided to make a little comic of how I think their "first encounter" might have looked like from Eclipse's perspective.

I can't help but think about how alien and scary we most look to him (especially if there is a history of fasco hunting polar sirens in the past). With all that gear we look like emotionless beings, just observing and uncaring of this ice world. But then when y/n shows up and probably exudes this joy and wonder for his world + shows respect for the creatures and the environment??? Mmh yeah, I can see Eclipse falling for y/n, especially considering how alone he might be...

So yes, that's what I have for today! If you want to read the fic I'll link it right here. I can't recommend it enough, but as always, read the tags so you know what you're getting into! And lastly I also want to @themeeplord beacuse Eclipse's design is basically their design in my style (god I love their design so much, their character/creature designs are the BEST) so all the credit goes to them! Polar!Y/N is my design thou! ;P

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go read the two latest chapters-

YIPPEE!!!

#apex polarity #orca!eclipse #polar y/n #dca #dca fandom #I am once again plagued by the terrible ramble disease #but I got thoughts and I wanna share them >:/#so here are some more:#when I say the humans look alien I mean Grey alien level alien #Emotionless face? Check. Big empty eyes? Check. Studying and probing the inhabitants? Check. Possibly abducts inhabitants? Check #or mad scientist vibe #imagine professor Membrane from Invader Zim while he's saying 'I know better know' <- that kind of vibe #ok- one last thought!#as you can see- I decided to go full out and try coloring and stuff!#and one of the reasons why I decided to do that is because I'm not well practised in those departments- but I want to get better at them!#so if you think this looks like a hot mess- it's because they are XD #but with all this considered- I think I did pretty well!#So I hope you enjoyed it! XD #Now I'm giving all of you who's read ALL OF THIS a giant gold star #because wow- you're dedication and focus is absolutely INSANE and I appreciate you taking the time to read this #NOW GO AND BE FREE MY FRIEND!!!

870 notes · View notes

ohno-the-sun · 5 months

Text

Consequences

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

#mad scientist au #sundrop #fnaf daycare attendant #moondrop #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #tbd if I will do a third part for this ending #let’s see what the people think #tw body horror #tw corpse #tw animal death #y/n

409 notes · View notes

gurugirl · 1 year

Text

The Scientist & the Stripper | Jealous

Summary: Harry finally comes to visit you at work - and just as you suspected, he gets a little jealous (nerd scientist!harry x stripper!y/n)

A/n: As requested - another check in with our odd couple! I would recommend reading THIS first. 4.4k words

Warning: 18+ only, smut, spanking, jealousy

❖❖❖

You’d given up on having Harry come to see you at work. You understood why he didn’t want to go. You knew he could be a bit jealous. The very first night you met him you saw it when he confronted Dale and then took you away from him at your party. So, if he reacted that way with Dale you could only imagine his reaction to a bunch of men ogling you while you danced half-naked for their money.

You’d been official with him for a few months now and seeing him for nearly 6. Harry was by far the best boyfriend you’d ever had. It surprised you too. When you first slept with him you didn’t think that it would really work in the long run. Not that you didn’t think he was great, but he was very inexperienced and most men weren’t able to deal with your job. Being a stripper meant the pool of men who would consider getting serious with you was limited. And a man who’d never even had sex before? You didn’t think Harry was in that pool. But he was.

He kept coming around and you kept daydreaming about him. Because even though he was a virgin when you first slept with him, he was really really good and he was very sweet. Not the overbearing annoying kind of sweet that you hated. The right in the middle, thoughtful and practical kind of sweet.

And he was a great listener too. Harry loved being taught new things and you didn’t mind teaching him. Because he was a fast learner and he remembered all of your little pointers to the T. He even did his own research apart from you. Harry’s curious, scientist’s mind was always digging into information and learning as much as he could about any subject he found interesting. And he found sex interesting. Obviously. So he learned things you hadn’t even considered teaching him. And he used his new knowledge on you with excitement.

But apart from the sex, Harry was just an overall great guy. He wasn’t a big talker but if he knew about anything being discussed he would give his input and it always amazed you at how smart he was. When you’d have him around your friends he wasn’t shy per se, more so just reserved. He liked to hear what others said and take note. Your friends got used to him. They wound up really liking him. He wasn’t annoying and he didn’t act like a know-it-all. He fit in pretty well.

And Harry had a handful of friends too. He knew them all from the University. They were nice and smart and you liked them all. But Harry was special. You appreciated him so much. You loved that he had his own thing going on and that he wasn’t obsessed with what you were doing when you were working (he knew what you were doing but he didn’t dwell on it).

The last guy you dated was always waiting for you after your shift and making sure you weren’t doing anything he didn’t like. He didn’t trust you. And you always thought you’d have to prove to whomever you dated that you could be trusted. But you never had to do that with Harry. He trusted you. Completely. But he was quite jealous. Territorial. Which was why he always declined in coming to see you at the club. Because he knew you were his and he trusted you, but he didn’t like it when others looked at you or made comments about you. He might have been reserved but he didn’t have any issues being upfront and confrontational when needed.

And you knew this because it happened occasionally. Even when it might not have been a big deal, Harry didn’t like anyone looking at you or trying anything funny. Like when you and Harry went to the North Avenue beach on a warm sunny Saturday. You were in your bikini and laying on a towel while Harry was reading next to you in his swim shorts and a t-shirt.

A guy a few feet away kept looking at you but you didn’t notice because you were napping and had your eyes closed. But then you heard Harry’s voice.

“That’s enough, mate.”

You lifted your head to look up at Harry and saw him looking over you at someone else. You turned and cupped your eyes from the sun to look at the other person and it was a man not far away. He looked from Harry to you and shrugged and then back toward to lake without responding.

And to be honest. You quite liked how Harry was a bit territorial. He was also a little bit intimidating with his height and build so most of the time he was met with little resistance or pushback from anyone he told off.

So when you spotted him on Friday night at Star Room you were surprised. You didn’t know he was planning to visit. You weren’t on stage when you spotted him, luckily, or it might have fucked up your whole routine.

“Sadie, I’ll be right back! My boyfriend’s out there!” You said as you ran out of the dressing room.

Harry spotted you coming from the doorway that led to the fitting rooms behind the stage and he sat up straight smiling at you.

“Baby! What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d just come to check it out. Got my work done and I missed you.”

You usually slept over at his or him at yours but for the past couple of nights, it just didn’t work out. You took a shift on Thursday night and on Wednesday Harry was gone all day at the lab and didn’t come back til late. Your schedules clashed a bit for the last few days so it was nice to see his handsome face.

You sat next to him and kissed his cheek, “I can’t stay here long because I’m going up soon but thank you for coming! Will you stay til I’m off?”

Harry nodded and kissed you in return, “Sure.”

Your routine was sexy. You killed it as usual. And with Harry in the crowd, you really put on a show for him. It was also Friday night and there was a bachelor party in attendance. They were all in the front row and being quite obnoxious but you kept your eyes on Harry.

When your little dress came off and your tits were on show for everyone you watched him tense up as he looked at the men in front of you who were shouting and leaning on the stage throwing cash at your feet.

You still had a job to do so you danced for the ones who gave you the most and squatted in front of them. You pressed your heel into the short guy's cheek as he started to climb up onto the stage when he asked you to marry him. You shook your head and laughed. It was actually a pretty normal Friday night. But you didn’t want them climbing onto the stage. Security usually took care of that for you but as part of your fun show, you gently pushed him away, which the short guy absolutely loved as he threw another wad of cash down for you.

You stood up and moved your hips and walked to the other side of the stage and shook your ass, bending down in front of the men. More cash. More whistles.

When you’d made your rounds and hit all the sides of the stage you noticed Harry wasn’t sitting anymore. He was standing up straight and watching the short guy from earlier. You continued moving your hips and smiling as you looked toward the short guy and realized he was leaning on the stage again. He was saying something you couldn’t hear from where you were but it looked like Harry could hear it and he wasn’t very happy about it.

You looked over at security and they were nearby making sure no one was doing anything they shouldn’t. The short guy wasn’t being that crazy but leaning on the stage was where they usually drew the line. Any more and he’d be escorted out.

The moment your bit was over you scooped up your cash, crawling around on the floor and making a show of it (as usual) when the short guy waved at you and motioned for you to come near.

You looked over at Harry and he was looking at the man with narrowed eyes. You faced the short guy and nodded, “What is it, honey?”

“I’m getting married tomorrow but I think I’m in love with you!” He was laughing with a big smile as he spoke it. You knew it was all in fun. The guy was a bit tipsy and he was obnoxious but he wasn’t doing anything that bad. You’d seen worse.

“I’m sure your fiancé would love to hear that!” You spoke as you stood up with all the cash in hand. But when you stood up you realized Harry was making his way to the front. Toward the short guy.

You quickly left the stage and ran to the dressing room to put your cash away and slip a robe on so you could intervene if needed. Harry was about to tell that guy to buzz off and you didn’t need any altercations.

Harry had never gotten into a fight over you but he didn’t back down either.

By the time you were on the floor and making your way to Harry you realized the two were in a heated discussion and Harry was towering over the guy and calmly telling him to fuck off. But of course, the short guy was drinking and his temperament wasn’t as calm as Harry’s.

You heard bits and pieces of their argument as you got closer, “Dude… your girlfriend is a stripper what do you expect?”

Harry responded but his voice was lower and you couldn’t hear him.

“Man, I’m just having fun here! She had her tits out and she was flirting with me…” you heard him say but the music came on for the next dancer and you couldn’t hear the rest.

You grasped Harry’s arm and looked up at him, “Harry!”

Harry looked down at you and his face softened when he saw you, “I’m sorry. He’s being disrespectful.”

You looked toward the short man, who was only a couple of inches taller than you and the gross smile on his face had your skin crawling. He said something but you couldn’t hear his words over the loud song playing on the speakers.

He reached out to touch your arm but Harry pulled you behind him and pushed the guy away, “Back the fuck off.”

With that Harry turned and moved you away and through the crowd that had gathered toward where the entry to the dressing rooms were.

“Harry, you have to remember this is what happens here. The men tend to be disrespectful. I just ignore them once my routine is over,” you grabbed his collar and made him bend down so you could speak into his ear.

Harry put his arms around you and pulled you into his chest and responded, “I know. But he said he was gonna have you do a private lap dance for him and I don’t like him. I don’t want him touching you.”

You chuckled and smiled, “Harry, it’s part of the job. And I wouldn’t have done a lap dance for him because he’s been a bit too rowdy. I get to choose whom I do a lap dance for. Plus it’s almost closing time. No private dances are allowed now anyway.”

Reluctantly, Harry let you go when you told him you needed to clean up and change. He said he’d be waiting for you where he was sitting originally.

You wiped your makeup off and pulled your hair into a ponytail when Tonya sat down next to you to remove her own makeup, “Is that tall man with glasses out there yours?” You heard her ask you as she continued wiping at her makeup, never looking at you through the mirror.

You smiled and nodded, “Yes. He’s my boyfriend.”

She hummed and this time she made eye contact with you in the mirror, “He’s almost prettier than you. Better keep an eye on him, though. Candy was over there with him just now.”

You laughed and shook your head, “Typical, Candy.”

When you said your goodbyes to the girls you slung your gym bag over your shoulder and walked out into the main room. Sure enough, Candy was still with Harry. She hadn’t changed out of her outfit and she was laughing about something. Which had you rolling your eyes. The girl was ruthless.

“Hi babe,” you spoke as you leaned down to kiss Harry’s cheek.

He quickly stood up and took your hand in his as he turned to Candy, “Told you.”

Candy just winked at you and then looked back to Harry, “Baby, of course, you’re taken. You’re too fucking fine to be single. Take care of this one, Y/n., Jesus he’s gorgeous,” she said as she eyed Harry once more before turning and walking to the dressing rooms.

“I’m sorry. She just started hitting on me. I told her you were my girlfriend over and over,”

You reached up to pull him down and kissed his mouth. He was overthinking again.

You pulled away from the kiss with a smile as you pulled Harry with you toward the exit, “I know, Harry. Don’t worry. Candy’s like that with any attractive man.”

You and Harry were in separate cars and the lot was full when Harry arrived so he was parked a bit away from where you were.

He walked you to your car and then you saw the short guy with a few of his friends. They appeared to be waiting for a taxi. Which might have been the smartest move the short guy had made all night.

He waved at you and then flipped Harry off, all in jest, of course, that much you could tell. But Harry didn’t get that memo.

“Hey!” He shouted as he turned toward the man. He began to walk in the direction of the rowdy group, for what purpose you couldn’t be sure. But you’d never seen him get so riled up before.

“Harry! Stop!” You shouted and jogged toward him, grabbing his arm, “Leave it. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you. He knows we’re together. Don’t play into it.”

Harry looked down at you and clenched his jaw before looking back toward the man, “She’s coming home with me. Get lost!”

You chuckled and pulled at Harry’s arm, “Let’s go home.”

When you both arrived in your separate cars and got into the elevator you realized Harry was still fuming from the guy. You put your hand inside his and looked up at him, “Hey… it’s fine, Harry. You trust me, don’t you?”

Harry’s eyes widened and his features relaxed, “Oh my god. Yes! It’s not you that makes me upset. I just think people should respect boundaries and he was rude and I didn’t like that.”

When the elevator stopped at your floor you both got off and Harry kept your hand in his, “Come to mine,” he said.

You smiled, “Sure.”

The moment you got into his condo Harry locked the door and put his arms around you and tucked his face into your neck, “Go get on the bed.”

You gulped in surprise a little at his demand. He normally asked or suggested. Sometimes he could be a bit dominant but it usually was during the act when he’d already lost himself in lust a bit.

You bit your lip and nodded as you made your way to his room and climbed onto his bed.

Harry joined you in his room a few minutes later, carrying a glass of water which he placed on the bedside table.

He looked at you, his face set stoically as he pulled his shirt off over his head. He crawled onto the bed and his strong chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths. He took your wrists in his hands and pinned you down and began kissing your neck and then up to your jaw, sucking small bruises onto your skin, “You’re mine. Everyone should know this…” he mumbled into your neck.

You gasped at his primal act and felt your body flush with desire. Harry sat up and looked down at the bruises he’d left and smiled, releasing your wrists and then he pulled at you so you were sitting up. He removed your shirt and then unclipped your bra, quickly pulling the material from your breasts before nudging you back down. His mouth covered your nipples and licked at your soft skin before he began sucking more bruises onto the flesh of your tits.

“Harry!” you panted at the feel of him sucking on your skin. It hurt a little but you wouldn’t stop him. You’d never seen him so jealous or territorial or whatever this was. Moving his mouth to your other nipple he looked up at you and sucked hard again, more bruises on your flesh and you keened already feeling your panties getting messy.

Harry knelt above you and kneaded at your tits, observing the work of his hands on your plush skin.

“Harry…” you put your hand up to his chest and felt his warm skin under your palm. He looked up at you and gently put your hand into his and began kissing the underside of your wrist, “I just want everyone to know you’re not up for grabs. You’re only mine.”

He let go of your wrist and lowered himself until his lips were kissing at your ribs and lowering until he got to your belly button. He put his fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants and pulled them down fast, the material flying across the room.

He looked down between your legs, pushed your thighs apart, kissed over the fabric of your panties, and made a sound that was awfully similar to a growl. He nosed at your crotch and squeezed at your thighs and then your hips before pushing himself up again to pull your panties off.

He added more bruises to the insides of your thighs and you brushed his hair from his forehead as you watched him in awe. He licked and sucked the soft meat until he finally put you out of your misery and covered your pussy with his big mouth.

Harry’s skill in cunnilingus had only improved. And you learned he loved being praised when he did well. And as a perfectionist who loved being the best at what he did, well… one can just imagine.

You were grasping the sheets and panting when your quaking thighs began to pull closed around Harry’s head. You hadn’t even realized you’d done it until you felt him smack your thigh and he sat back onto his bent legs.

You dropped your mouth open in shock. He’d never smacked your thigh before. He’d tested the waters a few times with a bit of a swat to your bottom, but a full-on palm smack? And he did it in response to you closing your thighs around him. You knew him to be a little dominant but this was new territory.

Harry kept his eyes on yours as he pulled his pants down his legs, “Wish that asshole could hear the way I make you moan when I fuck you,” he spoke as he squared his hips into yours, your legs wrapping around his low back as he settled over you.

“Well if he’s a neighbor then he probably has,” you teased in a giggle. You could be a little loud at times. Not every time you had sex, just when he went especially hard and you had a feeling he was about to rail you.

Harry smirked and then grabbed your left thigh, pulling it down from his back and urging it up toward your chest, then repeated with your other til your knees were being pushed into your body, held in place by his left hand. He sat up as he swiped a finger up your slit before he grasped his cock with his free hand and pressed it through your crease, bumping at your clit and then lowering to just push the tip past your entrance, “You get so wet for me…” another smack to your thigh and you gasped in shock again.

“I think you like that don’t you?” He swatted closer to your bottom as he gripped your shins with his hand to keep you in place.

“Oh my god, Harry! Yes!”

His smirk turned into a genuine smile when he scooted in closer to you, “Good. Because I do too,” he popped your other thigh and then pressed his thick cock into your pussy making you cry out.

Harry keened at the feel of you around him but he gave little pause before he began to sink into you until he was coated by your warm, wet walls.

When his hips began to buck into you he looked down to where his cock was disappearing into your body. Your body lurched under his pounding, his hips smacking into you as he fucked you into the mattress.

Tears began to leak from your eyes as you panted under the pressure, “F-fuck!” was all you seemed to be able to squeak out.

Harry let go of the front of your shins and your feet hit the mattress as he pulled out and leaned over you, pressing his mouth over yours and licking at your lips, “Roll over to your tummy,” he instructed with a murmur against your lips.

Once you were tummy down Harry swatted your bum again, this time feeling the satisfaction of your soft bottom under his palm. He grasped your hips and pulled your ass upward and smacked at your other cheek, causing a yelp to fall from your mouth, “Fuck look at you…” Harry groaned.

With his hands squeezing at your bottom you suddenly felt his tongue on your asshole and that had you losing all composure. Harry kissed over your bottom and sucked at your skin and then sat back with another groan, “I have to get a condom. Fuck I want to come inside your little cunt so bad. Knock you up and show everyone they don’t get to even look at you…”

Your heart was racing in your chest at his words but he did get up to get a condom. Even if it was reluctantly. You’d both discussed having you go on the pill but you’d had so many bad experiences using birth control that you’d given up and Harry seemed happy to continue using condoms. But this was the first time he’d ever said something to the contrary. It was also the first time he’d ever said that.

You pushed yourself up to see him and when he returned to the bed he gave you a pointed look, which had you stuffing your face back into the comforter and arching your back with your ass in the air.

Harry kneed up behind you and put his palms over your cheeks again, spreading them apart before you felt his cock nudging into you, slowly splitting you apart, “So fucking good…” Harry panted.

Soon the bed was creaking and your lungs were getting a good workout as he fucked himself into you at a rough and desperate pace.

You couldn’t lie and say there wasn’t a pinch or the slightest sting of pain from how he worked himself into and dipped deep into your tummy. But it was yummy and every time his hand landed on your thigh or your bottom you jumped and then moaned with a shattered breath.

“Fuck…” Harry sputtered out when his motions slowed but he began grinding into you so deep, barely pulling himself out anymore. He leaned over your back and his lips met the curve of your neck after he took your hair into his fingers and lifted your head upward for his access.

“Harry, please! Oh mmmmmmhh!!”

“And the way you say my name when my dick is deep inside of you…” he rasped into your ear.

Harry rolled his hips languidly, his cock stuffed into the hilt. Your thighs were quivering once again, you were so close to falling apart. You moved your hand between your legs and began to rub your fingers on your clit and you whimpered at the feeling of your button being rubbed while Harry was deeply fucking you and filling your insides with his length.

Your jaw dropped open as you pleaded for him with your body, pushing back onto him as you choked out sobs of ecstasy.

Harry kept his mouth at your neck and his hand in your hair as he leaned over you, his cock submerged deep, “I know you like this… like my cock don’t you?”

You nodded your head and mumbled a yes as you gasped, your orgasm making your body vibrate as you dissolved in pleasure.

Harry was right behind you. His own voice came out a bit louder than normal as he felt you spasm around him, hot come filling his condom as he pushed into you impossibly deep until you both collapsed on the bed together Harry rolled you both to your sides so he didn’t crush you.

You closed your eyes and sighed and Harry squeezed you close and pressed his nose into the side of your neck

“Mmmm… so good,” you heard Harry whisper, his lips brushing against your neck.

You nodded your head and smiled, “So good.”

Feedback/Thoughts | Support Me! | Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @michellekstyles @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @yousunshineyoutempter @the-gardener-31 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @harrys-foxy @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @evelynlarue @chaptersleftunwritten @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysmimi @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @theroosterswife24 @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @sagcas-latte @anothermannharry @sunflowerhssss @luv-flor7777 @missmielyhoran

*if your tag is orange it doesn't work

1K notes · View notes

cryptidghostgirl · 3 months

Note

Oooo part 2 of Aka Till Death Do Us Part (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader) was interesting

Loved it a lot 😭

Just imagining how reader would meet Lucifer (yes I'mma add some short king love) for the first time, whether this the ep where everyone meets him for the first time or he's just visiting is undecided.

Anyways she's a smart gal, she creates viruses, diseases, etc.. in order to destroy the human race (now demon and angel race), so she tries to befriend Lucifer

He's powerful, he could be her ticket out of the deal she was tricked into. Plus Alastor hates him so even better.

Whether the wife collector is befriending her from his hatred for Alastor (aka trying to steal his ex wife) or because he actually likes her or not is also undecided

But they become buddies, keeping her little secret while playing Alastor as this horrid creature that coerced her into a deal

She might not understand how deals function, but just like Alastor she'll find a way out of it. She won't let him interrupt her work for years again.

Another bonus of befriending Lucifer is she can try and coerce him into giving her some samples (blood, hair, skin, etc..) It'll help with the virus she's creating, along with seeing if there's any cell differences between fallen angels and normal ones.

A/N I literally love this idea. It is so on brand for her if she was tuned in with the world around her enough to realize her hanging with Lucifer even made Alastor mad. Also, not you calling Lucifer 'the wife collector,' that made me cackle.

Till Death Do Us Part pt. 3 (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader x maybe also Lucifer a little bit if you squint

Previous Parts:

Till Death Do Us Part (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader)

Till Death Do Us Part pt. 2

Warnings: I am not a woman nor am I in stem (but an enby in history) so pls be kind about the fact that I don't understand science. Angst, abusive/unhealthy relationship, possessive Alastor. It's not love but its certainly something.

Word Count: 2,176

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Alastor Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

Idle hands are the devil's playthings, wasn't that how the expression went?

It had been a month since that fateful day Y/n had struck a deal with Alastor, tying her to his side once again. She railed against it, fought valiantly, but there was no escaping the constraints of the contract. Never allowed a moment to herself, Y/n's life became a series of involvement in group activities she hated and chastisements from Alastor. She sat at his feet, the collar hanging heavy around her neck as a sort of twisted crown in his eyes. The Radio Demon and his wife, his queen, his prisoner.

She was never allowed out of his sight, Alastor even forcing her to stay in the same room as him, to sleep in the same bed. It was nothing Y/n had any sort of frame of reference for. He had never been like this in life, she had never experienced this sort of metaphorical suffocation. Y/n was adrift, the world a confusing blur around her. Every time she tried to make sense of it, thought she had figured out some small aspect, he changed it all again and left her in a lurch that sent her mind spiraling into unformed chaos.

Even when she managed somehow to stole a spare moment, was able to sneak away to her lab of a room, Alastor found her and dragged her out again. Y/n's continual protests and pleas to be allowed to continue her work, for him to hold up his end of the bargain and deliver her an angel, fell on deaf ears or were merely met with a solitary, fragile 'soon.' For all this time, Y/n had thought Hell to be misrepresented. She had found a true Heaven in Pentagram City, a safe haven, a salve. Now, she knew the true meaning of suffering.

It was different than she had expected. To suffer had always been something physical in her eyes. It had been her victims writhing in pain, it had been the sharp oppression of a world filled with human life. Never had she thought being trapped in her own mind like this could be a curse, rather than a blessed moment of reprieve.

Idle hands are the devil's playthings, wasn't that how the expression went? Y/n's hands were most certainly idle, all she needed was the devil to play with them.

It was just her luck when Lucifer showed up at the hotel, intent on visiting his daughter. Y/n was never the most observant but, since being tricked into selling her soul to Alastor, had become quite wary and watchful of him. It did not escape her notice the way his stance tightened and his eye twitched the minute the King of Hell threw himself through the hotel's double doors and into Charlie's arms.

Y/n watched the interaction carefully from where she sat lazily on the table beside Angel Dust and Sir Pentious. There were exactly three thoughts in her mind. The first was that it was useful to know Alastor hated the man. The second was that Lucifer was standing right before her eyes. He was powerful, maybe powerful enough to get her out of the sticky situation she currently found herself to be in. Not only that, but he was once an angel. This was the most important of the three thoughts, completely eclipsing the other two as soon as they reared their heads. Not quite the real deal but, potentially useful none the less. Getting close to him could mean getting one step closer to her goals. Silently, she slipped down from the table and began to approach the grouping of demons.

With a carful step, she sidled up behind them. Softly, she raised a hand to the back of Lucifer's head, to where his hair peaked out from beneath the edges of his hat. The excitement that rose in her chest was quickly stifled as Lucifer spun around.

"Charlie!" he exclaimed, "Why don't you introduce me to some of your other fr- oh!"

Y/n froze, her hand still raised. She opened her mouth to speak but the words caught in her throat once she caught the glare Alastor was sending her way. Letting out a nervous chuckle, Y/n's hands fell to her sides, clasping behind her back.

"Uh..." Lucifer turned to his daughter, his eyebrows raised.

"Oh, don't mind Y/n," Charlie awkwardly tittered, stepping forward, "she is always a bit... odd but, she is actually our newest guest!"

"Uh-huh." Lucifer nodded, his eyes moving back to Y/n and examining her features carefully, "Well, it is nice to be meeting you."

Lucifer stuck out his hand for Y/n to shake but the demon just eyed it warily. The furtive glance she shot Alastor behind his back, and the subtle nod he gave in return, did not escape Lucifer's notice. With another distasteful glance towards his hand, Y/n raised part of her hair up and took it, shaking it firmly.

Lucifer's confusion only seemed to grow as he looked down towards the point of connection.

"Um... okay, then." he hummed in thought as she released his hand.

It was when Alastor went out to solve the problem Mimzy had caused that Lucifer took his chance. All the while, as Mimzy had blathered on to Y/n about the 'good old days' and the shared aspects of their pasts, as soon as the tour of the hotel had ended, she had watched him. Observance was not, however, in her nature. It completely had escaped her notice that, all the while, Lucifer had been watching her as well.

The demon herself was nothing of import. She was strange and unrefined and, to be honest, deeply disconcerting to him in a number of ways. It was the thing lurking beneath it all that caught his attention. There was something going on between that girl and the Radio Demon and Lucifer didn't trust either of them. He may have thought Charlie's dreams to be in vain, known from his own experience how fruitless her project would turn out to be, but that didn't stop him from doing what it took to keep his little girl safe.

Lucifer sidled up beside the girl where she stood, watching the carnage Alastor wreaked with a vague sense of disinterest.

"So, you have a deal with the Radio Demon."

It was a statement, not a question. It was an accusation. Y/n shot into the air in surprise, not having noticed his presence beside her. With wide, analytical eyes, she turned to face him.

"With Alastor?"

"Yep."

"How could you tell?" she asked, leaning forward in curiosity.

"What are you two planning."

Another subtle command that went right over Y/n's head. She sighed, crossing her arms.

"I'm planning world destruction. He wants me to be his wife again and tricked me into this whole..." she waved her hands wildly through the air, "situation."

Lucifer didn't know whether to laugh or to take her out right there. Instead, he shook his head, opting to state in mild shock:

"Married? Again?"

"Yeah. I forced him to when we were alive so people would leave me alone and I'd have some human test subjects for my work. Let me tell you: not my favorite experiment I have ever conducted."

"I..." Lucifer was flabbergasted, struck into silence.

"So he tricked me into a deal. I was hiding from him for decades down here. One little slip up was all it took." she playfully used her hair to hit the side of her head, "Stupid Y/n."

"Where does the again part fit in?"

Y/n raised her eyebrows.

"Really? Why is that the part I have to explain to everyone. I mean, logically, it just doesn't make sense. That should be the question on the bottom of someones list. It shouldn't even be a question."

"Did you get a divorce?"

"In 1930? No. Even I knew that wasn't really an option. I married him to stop people talking, not start it. Besides, he wasn't this much of a bother when we were alive."

"So..." Lucifer prompted after a moment.

"Till death do us part?"

"Ah."

He really did laugh now. Just a light chuckle. Y/n smiled in appreciation.

"There you go. Now, how did you know? About the deal, I mean. Also, why do you guys hate each other so much? I thought you had never met before? And oh! Ohohoh! Also, can I have some of your hair."

Lucifer scoffed, his arms falling loosely from where he had crossed them over his chest to his sides. Charlie had been right, Y/n certainly was odd.

"My hair?"

Y/n nodded her head eagerly. When he gave no response, a concentrated and slightly confused expression flitted across her face. As if struck by a sudden inspiration, she regained her composure once again.

"Oh, yeah. I'm supposed to say 'please' when I ask for stuff. Al always said it was proper manners but I think its just a waste of time to be perfectly honest. It's still the same request, the same outcome. Doesn't really change anything. Why would one word make someone give a totally different answer? I mean, it's just foolish really. Anyway," she cleared her throat, "can I please have some of your hair?"

"I..." Lucifer raised a hand to his forehead, rubbing his temples, "why?"

"Because you're a fallen angel?" Y/n replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "And I want to see what that means?"

Before Lucifer could reply, Alastor stepped back into the lobby, straightening his jacket.

"What a show!" Angel exclaimed, applauding dramatically.

Alastor tipped his head to the side in recognition, his eyes surveying the room. When they fell on Lucifer and Y/n in the corner, his gaze hardened. Y/n payed the commotion no mind. Lucifer, on the other hand, grinned.

"I have a proposal." he hummed, turning back to Y/n.

She narrowed her eyes in sudden doubt.

"You don't like Alastor very much, do you?"

"No...? Of course I don't!" Y/n replied in exasperation, "All he does is keep me from doing my work and drag me around by that stupid chain like a dog. It hurts my neck and..." her voice grew softer and she looked away, fixing her eyes on her interlaced fingers, "and I feel like he's trying to force me into the shape of something I'm not. It's... it's like wearing shoes that are four sizes two small on a twenty mile hike."

Lucifer laughed.

"Well, that certainly is... descriptive. How about we make a deal?"

Her head shot up, her narrowed eyes meeting his once again.

"You're not going to just take my soul like he did, are you?"

"No, of course not my dear. Only lesser demons like him need to do that in order to feel strong, to maintain some sort of power, to get what they want." Lucfier enunciated the last four words sharply, the syllables like needles, "I'm simply offering an exchange."

"That's what he said too."

Lucifer raised his hands to show he meant no harm.

"Look, we don't even have to shake on it. I will give you some of... some of my hair or... whatever... and you will help me get on his nerves, take him down a notch. Who the Hell knows, that might even help you too."

Y/n was silent in thought for a moment. She did want the hair and messing with Alastor seemed all too appealing. Still, there was something eating away at her.

"Would you..." she lifted herself up to Lucifer's eye level with her hair.

Y/n wasn't that much shorter than the king of Hell, just a couple inches. Those couple inches certainly made a difference. Lucifer could have sworn there was a literally electrical spark in the darkness of her eyes.

"You're powerful, yes? King of Hell and all?"

Lucifer nodded.

"Would you be able to help me figure out a way out of this mess?"

It was Lucifer's turn to think now as he mulled the idea over in his mind. Sure, theoretically he probably could but, he had never tried to break another demon's deal and even past that, he didn't know if he wanted to. Y/n was disarming, strange, had mentioned wanting to destroy the world. Lucifer didn't know her well enough to gage if there was any real risk and Alastor seemed to have her on more than a metaphorical leash.

"Maybe." he admitted, deciding on the path of least resistance, the one where he could try and succeed or pretend it was an unknown impossibility all along, "I don't know."

In some strange way, there was something stable about the man before her. Alastor was unpredictable, had sent her life spinning. Lucifer felt safe.

"Good enough for me!" Y/n smiled brightly, "I look forward to working with you."

---

Writing this made me really want to do a Lucifer fic with the idle hands thing.

TAGS:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0@kahlan170@wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007 @marukun @nanami1chu @i-like-potatoes12533 @boogiemansbitch @apenasandorinha @almond-t0fu @mygoldtears @ahellborn @winterisholding @misty-melody @themetalbabygirl @trash-shoot @clarakainda @ladyscorpion19 @dasimp777 @juskonutoh @simpingsohard @sethianaa @gabile18 @slytherin4ever

211 notes · View notes

konigsblog · 3 months

Note

We need more of that eldirch reader ✨ it's amazingggg

eldricth-reader and scientist-könig. 🐙🐙

cw: NON-CON/DUB-CON tentacles, monster fucking, eldricth hybrid, afab!gn!reader, kidnapping, reader is used as an experiment. MDNI 18+

i have far too many thots™️ for this AU...

i just know that scientist-könig is incredibly satisfied and proud of himself for finding such a rare, immortal creature like you. he's obsessed with the way your tentacles wiggle when he takes a step closer, his hard and thick boots thumping against the concrete ground as he gets a closer look at you. he admires your fearful expression, mortified as you gaze down at the shackles on your ankles, holding you down where you are.

you look so frightened by him - a mortal. you've never seen a human this close before. you'd been told about them, but you imagined them to be fairytale-like and magical creatures. your entire body was trembling, looking over at the wall, knives and sharp objects pinned to the wall, a sharp blade held firmly in his calloused, gloved hands.

he hides his face from you, creeping you out as he remains anonymous, causing chills to run up your spine. könig takes pictures of you from many angles, his intentions were to prove to others at the rare find before killing you off - although, könig had a change of heart; he didn't want you dead, he wanted to see all the things you could do with those tentacles... for his own sick benefit and pleasure.

as he dragged the sharp knife over your panties, he cut and tore them from your figure. you squealed loudly and hissed at him viciously as he tugged on your tentacle suddenly and harshly, pushing it against your slick pussy, inching inside as you cried out through misery. you felt utterly humiliated to be forced to do this, worsening your impression on him.

he watched as your tentacles reached around for anything to hold to stabilise you, his hung cock hanging over your face, hoping you'd grip his lengthy dick. as you're an eldricth creature, you don't understand humans and their bodies - so you were frightened and disgusted to hear his pleasured sounds as your tentacles ran down his weeping shaft, the suckers along your tentacles sticking to his skin as he guides your tentacles, getting off to the abnormal and newfound feeling of them wrapped tightly around his base, and the sight of your slick cunt filled with your limp. ;(

331 notes · View notes

peacefulpianist · 10 months

Text

The Green Dress

Loki x Fem. Reader (no y/n)

Wow hi everyone, I can't say I ever thought I would be doing this, but I've written something! I've been an avid reader for a few years now and have finally convinced myself to give it a shot. Any constructive criticism is more than welcome, but please do bear in mind this is the first thing I've written since year 8 English that isn't an academic paper of sorts. Anyway I hope you enjoy!

I'm tagging a few members of the SAS who I think may like this? But if you want to be removed please do let me know - no hard feelings at all : @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @acidcasualties @muddyorbsblr @wheredafandomat @liminalpebble

Description: When Stark invites you last minute to one of his infamous parties, you've not got many options on hand to wear until Nat suggests you wear the green dress you had bought months ago. Perhaps it will be enough to inspire a certain god to finally make his move.

w/c: 4.2k whoops I didn't intend for it to be nearly this long

My Masterlist

“How many times do I need to tell you that you absolutely can not do that Stark!” You exclaimed in exasperation over the cluttered lab table once more.

“But if I just ignored that little thing-” the glare you sent from over the top of your glasses quickly shut his remark down before it could continue any further. Looking contrite, but rather worryingly still determined, Stark pushed back from the table, going slightly further than expected in his chair and trying to style it out as intentional as he almost collided into several rather important projects.

“Well since you’ve thoroughly pooped on that party Brainiac, I’m declaring we call it a day here, and hey speaking of parties, you are coming later aren’t you?” He asked whilst trying not to fall of his chair and catching a rather dangerous looking item falling off one of the nearby tables he had knocked into.

A wave of panic washed through you at the mention of the event later; you had been hoping that as no one had specifically invited you to it, only mentioned it in passing, that you would be able to give it a miss unnoticed. It wasn’t that you disliked Starks events or even parties in general, you just happened to be aware of who else would be there and definitely couldn’t trust yourself to keep up a front with the copious alcohol that would no doubt find its way into your system. Not that you were totally innocent in how it found its way there. You had been hoping to avoid a direct invitation like this, purely because you had a real issue saying no to people, especially those you liked and admired. It was because of this, and only this - not the fact you would get to see Loki in one of his impeccably tailored suits again as a helpful voice in your head supplied, that you found yourself blurting out the following.

“Uh yeah sure, of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world boss!”

You had hoped that it had come out in a convincing tone, but the slight frown emerging on Starks face said otherwise. However, as quick as it had appeared on his face it was gone, replaced by a trademark smile as he slapped his thighs and stood.

“Well then, you better be off to prepare and polish your elbows, or whatever it is you ladies manage to do to fill so much time getting ready before these events,” his face quickly faltered after realising what he had actually just said and quickly followed up with “not saying of course that it isn’t absolutely worth it, especially if Pepper asks”.

In an effort to allow Tony to leave the interaction without digging himself an even deeper hole, you stood too, gathering your bag as you went, giving a slightly awkward wave over your shoulder as you walked out the door.

It was only when you made it back to your room upstairs that you fully understood what you had actually agreed to. Not only were you going to have to be in the same room as Loki, desperately trying to hide your feelings towards him, whilst watching him flirt with practically everyone in attendance, but also work out what the hell you were going to wear to a party at such short notice. Unlike many of the other inhabitants of the tower, your wardrobe wasn’t exactly equipped for these kinds of events. You had always preferred to skip out on anything that required this level of formal wear, the comfort of your staple jeans and a hoody was something you had always chosen over the tighter fitting, more formal attire required at Stark’s parties.

In a somewhat unhelpful move, you decided that putting off the outfit dilemma was the best course of action, as a frantic full-body shower was needed, and of course there was no point choosing an outfit before you’d done your hair and makeup after the shower as well. You had told yourself that the outfit choices could be mulled over during this time as well, but realistically knew that you were just lying to yourself and would inevitably put it off until the last moment.

A frantic search of your wardrobe, which involved many an outfit being taken out, only to be thrown into the rejection pile on the floor moments later, left you coming up short and in the middle of a ring of discarded outfits whilst still in just your towel. You sank to the floor, just staring despondently at the chaos around you, contemplating whether Tony would actually notice if you didn’t go after all.

It was in that state exactly that Nat found you minutes later after she had knocked, not waited for an answer and entered anyway, only to stop in her tracks and abandon whatever purpose she had come with upon seeing you in such a state.

“Well that outfit is sure to grab everyone’s attention, not what I would choose personally but good for you girl!” Nat said with a smirk, leaning on your doorframe.

“Don’t even start with that right now, I wasn’t planning on going to this until and hour ago, and I appear to have greatly underestimated my wardrobe deficiencies. Some actual help right now would be greatly appreciated.” Your reply came from the floor, all hope of being able to avoid Stark’s shindig fading with the sound of the door closing behind Natasha.

“I’m sure your so called deficiency isn’t nearly as bad as you’re making it out to be,” her voice somewhat muffled as she rooted through what was left of your clothes in you’re wardrobe.

“I mean look right here, what was wrong with this option, it’s even green, perfect to catch you-know-who’s attention!” The smile on her face dropped when she turned to face you, brandishing the green dress you had bought months ago on a whim when out with some friends, only to realise you would never be comfortable enough to wear it out in public when you had tried it on at home later that evening.

“Woah, what’s so wrong with this one that it makes you pull that face? It’s a stunning dress I can’t see what you could possibly have against this one, its perfect for tonight.” Nat questioned with a confused frown, after seeing the vehement refusal on your face at the suggestion.

“It is a beautiful dress, just not on me, I don’t-” before you could even finish the thought, Nat had pulled you up, and was pushing you quite forcefully back towards the bathroom, throwing you in there along with the dress and your raciest, laciest underwear that you hadn’t even seen her grab.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response, you should know better than to speak like that about one of my closest friends by now, by the time I’m back after getting changed myself, I want you wearing that dress so I can prove to you how wrong you are when you see everyone’s faces when we walk in later” Nate reply was somewhat muffled behind the bathroom door, but the fierceness, and her love for you, was still conveyed perfectly through the wood.

“Besides if it truly makes you feel that bad after wearing it tonight, we’ll burn it together tomorrow, I’m not having you keeping it if its going to make you feel this way whenever you see it.” The finality in her tone and promise of being able to get rid of the thing tomorrow was enough to get you to follow her orders, that alongside the fact that you were still rather scared of her, even after having been friends with her for a few years now.

With Natasha momentarily gone, it gave you the chance to ruminate in your thoughts, the dress was truly stunning, a deep emerald green that displayed your decolletage beautifully, with a daring slit from ankle to high up on your thigh. While you could see that the dress itself was objectively great, when it was you wearing it, it didn’t seem that way anymore. Instead of being able to focus on all of the ways it could highlight your beauty, all you could see was the way the closer fit of the dress clung to your stomach slightly, and how the slit showed off your thighs, and just seemed to emphasise how big they were.

It was in this downward spiral that Nat found you in upon her return, a frown once again set on her face as when she saw the malice behind your eyes, directed solely at yourself.

The way you could only ever focus on the parts of yourself that you saw as problems had always hurt Natasha, and how it impacted the way you behaved as well. It wasn’t just a matter of wearing baggier clothes that covered your insecurities, but the way you let it decide where you belonged socially. She was intimately familiar with your growing feelings towards a certain god of mischief who had taken up residence in the tower little over a year earlier, but also with your pessimistic view towards your chances of the feelings being reciprocated. Ever since you had realised that your feelings were more than that of just friendship you had immediately resigned yourself to remaining in the friend zone, refusing to believe that he would ever see you as something more because “he’s a god and I’m, well, I mean just look at me.” Nat had tried countless times to reassure you that the way you saw yourself, was not in fact the way others saw you, but had also at this point come to the understanding that your self perception wasn’t based in logic, and reasoning as such wasn’t going to make enough of an impact to change how you saw yourself.

It was with this in mind that she approached you, an arm reaching round you and pulling you into her side for a hug, while smiling at you in the mirror, before grabbing your hand and pulling you out of your room and to the party on the floor above.

Your outfit dilemma had delayed the two of you a little, so when you arrived upstairs, the party was already in full swing; with music blaring and alcohol clearly flowing freely if the state that some of the guests were in already was any indication. As such you were easily able to slip in behind Natasha unnoticed, before heading straight over to the bar, feeling the need to indulge a little more than normal tonight.

From your vantage point at the bar up on the mezzanine, you could see almost all of the goings on down below you, from Lang absolutely busting it up on the dance floor to Tony trailing around after Pepper, seemingly trying to make up for something that was undoubtedly his fault, but wasn’t actually remorseful for. Unfortunately it also meant that you had the perfect view of Loki and his apparent flavour of the night. Despite knowing how unproductive it was, you found yourself comparing yourself to her, noting all the ways she was traditionally attractive, only to seemingly find yourself lacking in the same places in comparison. Even though you had accepted months ago that Loki was never going to reciprocate your feelings, and having desperately tried to allocate him into the friend box in your head unsuccessfully, it still hurt deeply to see him so close with other women, knowing what he would be doing with them that night, only to move on to the next when it suited him.

This knowledge had one advantage for you though, it had made it much easier for you to become friends with the god. As you knew nothing romantic was ever going to happen between the two of you, you had found it that much easier to relax and joke around him, even going as far to return his flirty remarks, as there was no pressure behind it for you, and the potential embarrassment behind behaving more boldly was removed. Since he flirted with everyone that way, it obviously didn’t mean anything to him, so it made it much easier for you to jokingly flirt back. It was because of this new found confidence, that you had struck up a strong friendship with the god and had come to call him one of your closest friends. It had only added to your mental torture.

After a few more self indulgent moments, agonising a little more over what could have been you turned to the bartender, and took another drink with a polite thanks and a smile before deciding that even if you did still regret coming, and especially wearing the dress, you were going to make the most of the evening. Besides how many people could say they got to drink and dance with the avengers, who they were friends with.

It was with this new found resilience that you stood from your place and made your way down to the dance floor, having caught Nat and Wanda’s eyes before and been summoned.

The next few hours passes in a slight blur of laughter and dancing for you, after a few, chaotic but incredibly fun dances with Nat and Wanda some of the other men began to join in, requesting a dance with you. Between the fun of teaching Steve how people actually danced in clubs now alongside Nat, and Bucky whirling you round the floor like an absolute professional - after complementing your outfit for the evening with an all too knowing look, you had almost forgotten about your preconceptions for the evening, but whenever you danced with one of the men, however gracious and smooth they were, you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if it were Loki instead of them; comparing the feel of their hand on your back to what you had imagined Loki’s would be like if he were there instead.

Just when you were about to take a break from dancing, a slightly cooler hand came to rest on your back, as its owner leant down to speak into your ear over the music.

“Darling, I think its about time we show them how its really done don’t you?”

The feeling of his breath over your neck as he leant in closer sent a jolt down your spine, that you were almost certain he must have felt in his hand, still placed firmly in the middle of your back, exactly where you had imagined it being all night.

Quickly composing yourself, you managed a somewhat natural reply, rather impressed with your own neurones for still being able to function at least somewhat normally whilst Loki was so close to you, having not moved away under the pretence of needing to be closer to be able to hear you over the music.

“Ah of course your majesty, I’m sure us mere mortals couldn’t possibly live up to the prowess of a god”

His low reply was barely heard over the thumping of the bass, in a way that made you question whether he had actually intended for your to hear it, if it wasn’t for the sly wink he sent towards you after.

“Yes I find that is the case in many areas darling, especially when it comes to moving their bodies”

The raised eyebrow you gave in reply expressed all you needed him to know, and covered for the fact that your mind had been sent in a downward spiral imagining his trademark snake hips dance move, in areas other than the dance floor.

Whilst you were somewhat distracted in your thoughts, he moved the hand from your back to loop his arm round your waist and bring you back into the middle of the dance floor, beginning to sensually move his hips and draw you into to him to do the same.

What you didn’t know was that Loki and been subtly watching you all evening, ever since you had walked in the door, many may not have noticed your entrance behind the Black Widow, but at this point Loki’s body was finely attuned to your presence and he hadn’t been able to draw his sight away from you for more than a few seconds at a time. You were wearing his colours. His green. But it wasn’t just your choice in attire tonight that had drawn his attention, as delightful as that dress was, you’d had it for many months before this point. Initially you had been a curiosity to Loki, kind to him when many others weren’t immediately following his return to Midgard, but after talking to you the first few times it was your intelligence that had captured Loki’s heart. He had found you to be one of the few midgardians to match his voracious appetite for knowledge, both in reading and in your chosen profession as a biologist working alongside Stark and Banner, but much less insufferable than the other two.

When Loki had first come to terms with his interest in you, he had thought his subtle flirtations would be enough to alert you to his intentions, but when these failed to elicit any kind of response from you he had slowly become more and more bold with his innuendoes and flirtatious comments when in your presence. At first he had thought he was finally getting somewhere with you when you had began to match him in conversations, but when you made no sign of anything more, he had found himself stumped. At one point he had even stooped so low as to flirt with others in your presence in the hope that it would inspire enough jealously within you to reveal your feelings towards him, alas it did not work. No one had ever taken this long to fall victim to his seduction. He had admitted to himself that this time was different to his previous experiences as truly desired more with you than just a roll in the bed, not to say that did not also desire that with you, he had thought about that extensively, but he was not sure how to progress from here.

When you had walked in tonight though, looking exquisite in his colours he had decided that enough was enough, tonight he was going to finally bite the bullet and just ask you outright if you would be with him. It was not a decision that he had come to lightly, but he had finally come to the realisation that if he wanted something to happen he was going to have to do something about it for himself.

You didn’t know whether Loki had bribed the DJ before approaching you, or it was a shear unfortunate coincidence but as you continued dancing, each song seemed to get progressively dirtier and more sensual. This combined with finally dancing with him after having imagined it all night, the enticing smell of him from being in such close proximity, and the one or two drinks you’d had early were practically sending you into an early death.

Simultaneously Loki was experiencing a similar issue, when she wasn’t looking, Loki found his eyes being drawn from her face down to her chest, which with his height he had a fabulous view down, and combined with the lyrics and music he hands had seemingly began to move of his own accord and were veering dangerously further south. He decided he needed to do something soon, or he was going to have a very hard time of it.

As he leant down once again to speak into your ear, your breath hitched ever so slightly, and a faint flush bloomed across your cheeks- a fact that didn’t go entirely unnoticed by the god, and one that made his own pulse race. All hope that you felt the same way as him was not lost.

“Are you alright there darling? You’re looking awfully flushed. You’re not too warm in here are you?”

You had barely managed to stutter out what you could only imagine would have been a terrible excuse before he continued;

“Unless of course it is for the same reason as I.”

The hope that formed in your chest from the one sentence alone caused you to whip your head up, needing to search his gaze to see if he was really implying what you thought he was, surely he couldn’t be, there was no way that he could have felt the same way towards you as you did to him. Before you could continue with your self deprecation, he interrupted your thoughts once again;

“Now now darling stop that immediately, I can tell you are already overthinking this before I have even truly started. I do not know what it is that makes you doubt yourself so, but you must know that whatever it is I do not share that same belief.”

You held his breath as he said this, still not truly believing that this could be going where you wished it was, but not daring to do anything to break the spell just yet

“I was almost sure you would have known by now, but apparently I have not been clear enough in my appreciation or my advances towards you. I very much like you min elskling, you have well and truly captivated me heart and mind, body and soul. I would be honoured if you wished to court me, or as I believe you mortals say, go on a date with me” Loki finished with a release of breath, like saying all that had released a burden from upon his chest and he could finally breath deeply again now it was done.

You just stood there frozen in the middle of the dance floor, unsure if what you had heard was really happening, surely this was all some wonderful fever induced dream, and you were going to wake up face down on one of the desks in the lab any moment.

However Loki was reading your silence as rejection, and the insecurities that he had previously pushed aside were starting to flood back.

“Of course darling, if you do not feel the same then, I would be more than happy to just remain as friends,” it was of course a lie, but one that he would guard closely if that were the case, as he would never want for you to feel guilty for making an honest decision, and would much rather keep your friendship than not have you in his life at all.

“And I can completely understand why of course if you do not return my feelings, after all with my heritage I know-” before he could finish his sentence though you had reached up and pulled his face down to your height, before promptly pushing your mouth onto his in a scorching kiss. In the time Loki had began to panic and ramble, it had finally registered what Loki had been saying, and that it was in fact real, so before he could spiral any further you had to display your feelings towards him, and this had seemed like the most direct course of action.

After a brief moment in which Loki’s brain had to catch up to what was actually going on right now, he swiftly took charge of the kiss, both of you melting into it, especially as Loki opened his mouth to let he tongue dance along your lips before slowly meeting your own. At the same time, Lokis hands began to wander more actively, finally sliding that last little distance down to your behind, which he grasped firmly before sliding one hand down to bring your leg up and round his hip, letting you feel exactly what you were doing to him. Your own hands had found their way into his silky hair, finally fulfilling the desire you had held for many months to feel what it was like between your fingers, and when you gave it a gentle tug in the passion of the moment, a low growl made its way up Lokis throat, only enticing you in further.

It was only as a few wolf whistles broke through your bubble that you remembered exactly where you both were and that it was perhaps not the best place for what was clearly on its way to happening. It was with the same thought that Loki took your hand and began leading you out of the room, stopping only briefly first to growl lowly into your ear “we need to leave now darling, don’t you agree?” Before nipping your earlobe and pulling back to grin at you.

With absolutely no objections, and no subtlety either, you nodded before taking the lead taking you both in the direction your room, before stopping to remember the state you had left it in before the party in your distress to find an outfit. You blushed at the memory and changed direction slightly to lead you both to his rooms instead. Loki however took no notice, or simply did not care for the slight moment of hesitation, as at this point he didn’t particularly care where you were headed as long as it was close by, you were finally his and now it was time for him to claim you as such.

Part Two here:

Thank you so much for reading if you made it this far! Please do let me know what you think x

#tom hiddleston #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x you #no y/n #dancing #green dress #tony stark #stark being silly #scientist reader

398 notes · View notes

krewekreep · 7 months

Text

Help Me Create Perfection

Tags: Evil Scientist AU, Reseacher!Reader, Mad Scientist!Sukuna, dubcon, enemies to…(have fun), boss/subordinate dynamic, God complex, Yandare realness, Breeding Kink Sukuna wants to defeat life itself…it’s Sukuna, kinda expect the worst.

Summary: 2.6K words. Ryomen Sukuna is on a quest to become God. What happens when his most prized researcher keeps messing up his experiment?

Author’s Note: Not Proofread, always editing. Am not STEM brained in any way…will likely do a part 2 just had to get the idea out. Big Dick smut in part 2 lmk if you want to be tagged

Experiment Mahoraga was thought up by the worst minds in science. Awful geniuses of the world gathering in the shadows of society using money and power to play God. The leading scientist Ryomen Sukuna was obsessed with playing God. Everyone weary of his despicable goal to create life for no other reason than to spite the heavens above. A truly abhorrent, unethical mad man willing to sacrifice anyone to achieve his goal. How useless and stupid all the other researchers were as they failed to report or remove him from his station. If anything, the more people complained how he had no heart and would do anything he gained promotion after promotion soon being someone you could not even mumble a criticism of in fear of retaliation. A once hidden and shameful secret mutated the entire facility now into Ryomen’s playground.

Once the invisible higher ups knew he could be trusted, now biological testing and his hidden goal of creating life was at the tip of his fingers. How prior to his unshakable status, his fellow researchers would clamor amongst each other whispering of how his enjoyment of the job…seemed far too weird and even perverse. How Ryomen until emboldened with indisputable power would be caught laughing and snickering to himself. How a few researches caught him late nights with a genuinely sinister scowl in the dark reflection of his computer. How once he didn’t need to fake nice he would smile that disgusting grin at being given positive updates on the progress if special interest to him.

As you spoke to him of the Experiment Mahoraga’s improvement, you felt his eyes on you in that penetrating, judgmental, authoritative way. How he had no shame to stare into your modest bosom and how he would laugh to himself at your pulling your lab coat closed and hugging yourself tightly. You didn’t back down from him though, yet knew better than to overtly or publicly challenge him. You had done good work in a breakthrough regarding genetics and although no one knew Ryomen’s true goal, Mahoraga being the dirty secret even the uncaring higher ups didn’t know about—being specially selected to join his team was not a blessing. The rumors of a hidden evaluation had you on edge. And for months until Ryomen plucked away who he wanted everyone was on guard. Some even quitting (disappearing) or becoming fumbling idiots. No one wanted to seem impressive to him. Being useful to Ryomen Sukuna meant you were in a dangerous position. Because no matter what there is no refusing Ryomen. So when your favorite coworkers Charlotte and Jeremy looked absolutely forlorn seeing you that morning…you wished you had understood their warning when they told you to call in sick for work that day….

Since the day you and four other researchers in a facility of over a thousand were specially chosen to join Ryomen’s team—it’s as if to the rest of the building you’re dead. You never went through the same entrance again, you never used the same keycard again, your lunch was never the same as anyone else’s, and soon you felt like nothing more than a well paid, well known work slave. How you and the other researchers names felt like bad words over time. How everyone began to move on and no longer even acquired as gossip the whereabouts or day to day of this special group. Charlotte and Jeremy burned out too, not out of jealousy or hate—your professional adults who very suddenly worked completely different hours and couldn’t even talk to them about what you did now. So your new friends are people who all have bonded over a shared sincere fear of their very scary boss and the fact if you guys can survive this what’s a good night out for drinks gonna hurt?

But Ryomen has a perfect ability to appear out of nowhere. Startling you all back to the actual reality your work dogs for someone who is only not called a mad man because the last scientist who did hasn’t been seen in years. How you just were a nerd into planets, numbers, and figuring things out. How you thought maybe you’d change healthcare forever: cure to cancer, cure to dementia, climate change innovations, better accessibility tech for everyone…you’re a good person with a good brain typing in data with a blaring migraine. Cause only God and Ryomen know what will happen if any of you fuck up Mahoraga. But there was a problem…the problem had been going on for three weeks now. It is becoming ultimately clear Mahoraga will not be sufficient if he is only of artificial intelligence and biology. It is failing to pass the basics of being something even composed to biological matter. A hulking bleached white amalgamation of various species. You would call it a monster but the researcher who did…hasn’t been seen in a while either. Whistleblowers disappear or are found dead. Other scientists who have called for Ryomen’s arrest are suddenly silent. It is just simply understood you want you go home and atleast sleep decent at night? Watch your mouth and mind your manners. And thinking about being the one who has to give Ryomen a negative update makes your legs begin to shake with anxiety.

“Ah! Y/N…” Lu, your coworker, looks over into your screen seeing the flashing red of a failed genetics test. He rests a reassuring hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. Lu was kinda flirtatious but overall just a nerd boy with a caffeine addiction. “I think you need to tell the big guy before he finds out…” You look over meeting his pensive expression with your own. “Lu…I’m kinda in a bind now cause…I didn’t say anything when it first wasn’t working because…obviously we know we can’t say something isn’t going right…” Lu pulls his rolling chair to yours, arm now snaking around your neck. He rests his head now against your shoulder huffing out mutual exasperation. “I worked and worked and worked. We added so much but all these things are just not congruent…we…” your voice drops to below a whisper. “We all know what he’s trying to do…and life can be created without human DNA…but he’s trying to create something in his image…and maybe just like his actual image this deformed monstrosity is just not meant to live…” you finally let it out. You and Lu silent, knowing and praying you weren’t heard. Lu lifts from you placing a hand on the back of your neck rubbing circles to calm you down. “For what it’s worth…I always hoped this thing would never get free of those tubes.” You both look over to the truly terrifying conglomerate of Mahoraga who now after two years of non stop work has only just shown signs of creating functional limbs.

“Are we supposed to work until we die? For something that doesn’t deserve life?” Before you could cap your question the heavy double doors separating you from the rest of Ryomen’s facility flies open. You and Lu quickly hurry back to your stations, anxious and tired. Ryomen with two other nameless assistants you realized were actually his henchmen since they never did anything saunter in. There’s a veil over Ryomen’s expression and you can tell he’s hiding something. But he walks past the both of you as if your nothing. He approaches Maharoga and with what seemed actual affection he coos: “Oh my child. My wonderful creation…” his tone drops. He’s angry. “How if I had the time you would’ve been completed and immaculate…” without another word he punches the glass tube holding Mahoraga. The glass splinters and you audibly gasp at his display of violence. Your heart beats out of your chest at the sight coming to terms with the fact evidently Ryomen was terrifying beyond his creepy intellect. “Yet, as busy a man as I, I’m stuck relying on peons…” his eyes narrow to you.

“You.” He begins his way towards you. His head high with an immensely deprecating glare. You wanted to run but your knees buckled. Your hands clasped to your chest as you could only freak out and succumb to the stress and his overpowering demeanor. He backs you into the wall nearest the double doors he entered from—you look away unable to face him as he hulks over you. “Y/N…isn’t it?” You quiver unable to form words. “Your name is ____ isn’t it?” The second time sounds like a threat. You shake your head with the utmost obedience, almost like an eager little dog reprimanded by her master.

“You find my child a monstrosity?” He bares his teeth, a frightening sight that makes you close your eyes in trepidation. He’s seething as his hot breath causes a shiver to roll through you. “Maybe you’re just too fucking stupid to figure it out? Huh? Hmmm?” He’s so disgustingly mocking as his eyes again fixate on your chest. “I didn’t vet every personnel here to choose someone who isn’t stupid but just acts like it. I knew what the problem was going to be the entire time…” he grips your chin forcing you to look him in the eyes. “I was waiting on you…” You shake your head in confusion. His grip just tightens causing a pain to shoot across your jaw. “Ryomen please! I am trying! You know I have! I’ve done everything I can! It is not meant to live. You are not meant to play God! You are not God! You’re an evil scientist and an even worse man! What will you do? Hurt me? Kill me? Make me disappear?!” You want to shut up. You feel your stomach caving in fear the more you speak but simultaneously if this is the last time your seen then who cares. If this is the last real job you’ll have ever then who cares? If he’s gonna be sure to ruin your life for the rest of your life atleast you won’t be complicit in whatever harm he and his ‘child’ will cause…fuck it.

“Ryomen…you are a sick human being. You aren’t even a human being. You are a monster your damn self. You want to create life because yours is empty, you’re empty! I hate you!” You sound like a petulant child. A grown woman with one of the most impressive resumes in the entire facility being brought to a babbling temper tantrum by Ryomen.

How you don’t know he had to find out who you were the minute people told him he had a new rival…

How he demanded IT connect his phone to the security cameras and how while he obviously got full access he only lingered on the ones with a new girl in a short but professional skirt. How he could tell you must live a freer life outside of work. How he didn’t understand why you’d do extra work or stay extra hours or help other people? That doesn’t advance you. He couldn’t understand why you would self consciously change how you spoke depending on who was or wasn’t in the room. He never had to do that and never tried. Why would someone smarter than other people care to look good to them? Why did you be sure you pulled your skirt down or brushed your hair or? Were you trying to look cute for the male researchers? Ah! A silly slut who will get up in the world by sitting on as many laps as possible…that day he didn’t really return to watching you.

But when he saw you smiling way too hard at a female coworker…rolling your eyes the minute some male who must annoy you began to talk…how he realized oh…maybe it’s not males. His curiosity is piqued so he sends one of his closer female assistants to feel you out. How you didn’t know that breasty coworker with the easy smile was sent to get you on a date to bring back info. And oh did she bring back info…typical STEM nerd but you really wanted to do work that mattered. And that making a change in the world was the best way to feel like everything you struggled to accomplish was worth it. Ryomen rolls his eyes, how about you change the world his way?

He brought you on because as far he heard and saw with his own eyes you had the power of Eureka. Nothing other than somehow when your eyes or hands got on something it was fixed, improved, advanced. He only knew himself to have such a balance of intuitive intellect and practical capability. He was not a fan of people who were weak or incapable. So why did you falter the minute you were put in a better position? Already at an established, distinguished, awarded institution…now amongst the upper rung of the global scientific elite. Ryomen could put you right next to him and you’d only what? Become a God alongside him? How his ideas would meet your diligence. How he could populate the world unbeknownst to everyone they all are of him, and therefore finally worth life. How he thought for once he was wrong…how maybe the one time he did expect the most of someone they crack under the pressure. How again he realizes he is alone in his plight to ascend excellence. He doesn’t want to be God, he believes he can do better. But he’s still begrudgingly mortal, his ideals cut in half by the limits of his body.

You were right. He couldn’t make anything in his image without something human. Something of him. He knew that all along. So how dumb of you to wait chewing your nails and pens to oblivion at every new configuration you tried. How you were the mad scientist unwilling to accept the facts before you. Maybe somewhere deep down understanding then what would entail…what offer might arise knowing you would have to tell him. How hard and angry his cock would get. Childish and entitled wanting nothing more than to feel how he spreads you. How he rested his head against his fist, canine protruding and dug into his lip as you spin around huffing at another failed attempt. How he resents you biding time. How if you just do what you’re supposed to and walk your stupid ass in this office the problem will be solved.

So when you allow Lu to get far too close to you, far too comfortable…and you admit you are failing him on purpose... Now he can’t even satiate his anger with the farce you just don’t know what he wants…but you do. So he has no choice now but take what he wants and youre already weakening in his grasp. You’re already crying your eyes out. He can only think on everything he’s done for you and low stupid you are to lack gratitude. How egotistical you are to think he hasn’t seen every time you’ve rolled your eyes at him. Or sucked your teeth. Or all the unsavory opinions of him you laughed at. How he’s let you disrespect him long enough and far beyond anyone else. If something completely artificial can be made whole with something human, of course two humans naturally can then create a sublime, supreme being…how he’s already past Mahoraga, that will be the pet. How he was thinking much too small, because a child…the possibility of a proper successor in every sense of the word…now you need to stop crying because it’s annoying. You’re about to be so happy, so accomplished. He’ll let you work. You’ll look even better standing next to him. You’ll still get your awards and books and funding yada yada but…you’ll bear him one son, one daughter. Maybe twins. He’ll figure it out. But right now he needs to confirm his theory you’re not Eve but something beyond. And that you’ll help him create life in more ways than one.

#x black fem reader #black fem reader #black fanfic writer #sukuna x reader #sukuna x black reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #yandere #yandere sukuna #yandere jjk #evil scientist Sukuna #poor breedable reader 🫤

257 notes · View notes

heartfullofleeches · 1 year

Text

Business Casual

Yan Hero + Villain-for-Hire Scientist Reader

Something something, villain reader in lingerie. G.N as always, but they are implied to be slightly muscular

Another explosion on floor three.

The ground quakes beneath you on level four; dragging the wide-eyed corpse flung over your desk to to its knees. Head cracking against the sharp edge as they spawn across the floor, their helmet rolls into your ankle. You step over it and gather the scattered stacks of paper into a large folder, using the guard's layard to keep them secure.

While looting their body, you take back the pen lodged in their jugular. Your bosses were idiots if they thought you'd leave behind your hard work and the supplies you bought with your own two cents. You have to plant your foot on their chest to get it out. Turns out they weren't fully dead yet, as when you yank it free blood gurgles from their mouth and throat - eyes bloodshot as their enfeebled limbs dart for the punctured hole. Your shirt was already drenched in enough of their blood you didn't need to stick around. You stand up and over their body, clocking out as you vacate the premises - chaos unveiled behind the glass wall of your office.

Bodies everywhere, most wounds self inflicted. The heroes had yet to make it to your floor and those in too deep knew there wasn't anything better waiting outside. Those hired under false pretenses scrambled for the exits like a wild stampede. The mass panic made up the minority of the casualties as they trampled each other and fought. The sprinklers going off to quench various fires raised the body count. By the time you left everyone was either dead or on their way to the lower floors. You stroll through the field of wasted flesh, checking your bank account with that spring in your step that amount zeros would give anyone. Getting that degree was good for something after all.

Reaching the flight of stairs leading to your salvation, a lone figure awaits you at the bottom; expression steeled with a glare that the press would've just eaten up. Banking on the notion they may not have seen your clothes, you use the rain of the sprinklers to play as your tears.

"Oh thank goodness you came- the evacuation alarm went off and then there were guns and-" Expressing your fright with incoherent words and sobs, you descend the stairs one step at a time. "I'm sorry, I really don't know what's going on since I just started working here. Thank you for rescuing me."

The hero is a little too welcoming for your liking as you fall against their chest.

"You don't have to keep up the act. It's just me here."

That voice. So familiar.

"Nobody else is alive. I'm taking you home this time. Where you belong. We both know you're better than this."

It reminds you of that little hero everyone's been talking about recently. The same one who's flyers kept appearing in your mail. The same one who investigated those disappearances at your old apartment. The same one you sold the information to. You've been paid off for information by so many their faces all blur together at this point.

"In that case."

Teetering back on your heel and planting your foot in the center of their chest, you pour all your strength into a kick them that sends them down the flight of stairs to the next. The hero willingly takes the plunge, but goes down harder than they expect; back breaking their fall and taking on the brunt of the damages. You grab the sleeve of your lab coat with your teeth as you drop down each step, ripping it from your soaked figure and throwing it over their head. If you had to fight your way out of this all the water weight retained in the coat would just limit your mobility. The hero pulls it off and springs onto their knees. They didn't want to do things this way, but their patience had run them. Wiping blood from their lips, they take a double look at you as you hover over them - certain they hit their head harder than they thought.

Eyes lose in confusion at their slack jaw expression, your lips retain a mocking grimace. "What's the matter, hero? Afraid of fighting a civilian?"

The hero opens their mouth, but nothing comes out. They point instead. You look down at your shirt. Oh...

The guard's blood and falling waters had eaten away at the cheap material of your shirt. Through the translucent fabric peaks the garments you wore beneath. A lacey black piece perfectly shaped to your bust with straps cross over your upper chest and cut off at your midriff. The strings of the matching bottom sit high upon your thigh, frills barely hidden at your waistband. You may have a few screws lose, but you wouldn't leave the house without underwear and this was all that you had - was the excuse you stopped using after showing up to work in lingerie two days in a row. The hero swallow the first breath in ages as you pop the first button.

"Like what you see, hero? Well I can show you more~" You take off your shirt and throw it at their feet. They scramble to pick it up as your leg falls onto their shoulder. You ease into a squat, pushing them down with you as you slide. Their hands slide up your legs. You tease them with a slip of your bottoms, fist clenching as they yank your zipper. The salvation of reaching their in goal drags them in too deep as everything goes dark.

The hero wakes up with a splitting headache traveling all the way down to their nose. The bloodstained walls of the laboratory had been switched with floral wallpaper. Your living room wallpaper. They were bound to a chair in the middle of the room giving them a view of different areas in your home. It takes them less than a minute to notice you laying out on the couch. You had changed into dry clothing, but they could still see the single string hugging your hips. They lick at their cracked lips.

"Anything...."

You toss their phone aside as you sit up. "You're awake. Afraid I knocked that nasty little brain of yours out when you fell like that. Looking through your phone I see you have a talent for photography. A hero and a stalker. What a combo."

They bite down until their lips start to blister. "Please.. anything, anything you want is yours if you take off your shirt. Please, I cant- I can't live off pictures alone anymore. I need you... I have since I first say you."

"Anything, hm? That's a mighty brod claim. We'll see if I can hold you to it, little hero."

#scientist reader #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #yandere writing #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere hero

618 notes · View notes

blvvdk3ep · 9 months

Text

You haven't known the triumphs and defeats, the epic highs and lows of having to explain ao3 to someone who's never heard of it before

#top ten most humiliating moments of my life #I love my friends who aren't in fandoms #sometimes I dont know which of us is the scientist studying the monkey behind the glass cage and which is the monkey #fandom #ao3 #archive of our own #wattpad #fanfic writers #fanfic #y/n #fanfiction #just being like haha yeah it's just a website where I can be incredibly unwell about fictional guys nothing too weird you know

250 notes · View notes

improbable-outset · 5 months

Text

📄 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Married couple, Unprotected sex, SMUT, kissing, vaginal fingering, brief cum eating, tit sucking, giving Miguel a hand job while he explains the male anatomy 🫡 brief praises, body worship, eventual breeding kink, mentions of contraceptive pills, couple role play(?)

𝐀/𝐍: Is it me or has tumblr updated and it’s harder to use now?? Like I can’t move images like I used to?! Anyways this is inspired by c.ai again as well as one of my old mutuals fic (Salty if you see this, hey bestie!! That Doc fic examining player still lives rent free in my head!) Anyways, enjoy!!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In an effort to make amends for neglecting Miguel, you dedicate a night to spend quality time together. However, Miguel has other ideas to make the evening unforgettable— using science.

Your joints clicked as you stood up from your work chair. You’ve finally finished your project that you’ve been putting your blood, sweat and tears into and sacrificed your sleeping schedule to complete.

Your body felt stiff and heavy from sitting in one place for so long. The apartment was quiet as expected to be at this late hour, amplifying the creaks of your joints.

You switched off the monitor before you left your office and plodded upstairs to the bedroom with heavy steps and slouching shoulders.

You found Miguel in the bedroom, engrossed in tinkering with his watch with only his sweatpants on and no shirt.

His eyes crinkled up as he sensed your presence. “There she is…”

You didn’t feel like you deserved his acknowledgment, let alone his affection, especially the way you’ve neglected him for your work the past few days.

He didn’t expect you to say anything back but he felt the weight of your solemn expression, “¿Estás bien?

You shake your head mutely in response, guilt washing over you. He stepped closer, closing the distance with a gentle stride. “Talk to me, what’s wrong?”

Your mouth was dry from the lack of fluids you’ve been avoiding, making your voice slightly hoarse “I’m sorry, I’ve been pushing you away.”

He lowered himself and held your chin with his thumb to tilt your head up so you would look at him. The gesture made your heart ache.

“Is that why you’re upset? You know I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always come back to you mi alma,” he murmured.

Even if he did lower himself to be level with you, he still felt bigger. It made you feel protected, the way he towered over you with his large frame.

The holographic lamp illuminated the room, casting a gentle glow. With its subtle lighting you could see the crimson gleam from Miguel’s eyes, which melted the weight of your stress from the past few days and the newfound guilt.

You were glad the main light wasn’t on to flood the room with its sickening bright glow that would scream at you — your eyes needed a rest from the screen and the absence of flood lights gave that comfort you needed.

He leaned in to kiss you and you tiptoed to deepen the kiss. It felt refreshing, feeling his lips again— almost like an anchor that kept you grounded.

You wrapped your arms around his neck while he wrapped his around your waist. His tongue teased your lips before slipping in, tasting you and you let him take his fill of you before pulling away.

“Miguel…” you breathed, hesitant to break the peace in the room.

“How about we shift our focus on a different kind of study.” He suggested. There was a lighthearted undertone in his sentence that you tried to articulate.

You cocked your brow inquisitively until you remembered Miguel’s background in the science field. “Study? As in science?”

“Science is such a broad term. Let’s start with biology and anatomy,”

You heart stuttered in both anticipation and excitement along with your core already throbbing. You could already sense where this was going as soon as you heard anatomy. The atmosphere felt charged guided by the intimate spirit of Miguel’s proposal.

He lifted you up before gently placing you on the bed.

Being a skilled geneticist, Miguel seized every opportunity to share random biology facts, particularly in the most unexpected moments with you.

It was one of the many things you found attractive about him, especially seeing him being so engrossed in explaining things to you in a way you would understand. It made the complexities of biology feel like an intimate and shared journey.

But you’ve never seen him act like this before sex. Perhaps he was trying something new to keep the spark alive.

“How about we remove your clothes.” His hands hiked up beneath your shirt as he spoke.

“Is this part of the biology teaching?” You asked.

“Let’s just say it’s part of the more practical application.” He removed your shirt and your pants, leaving you in your panties and bra. “And you’re the specimen.”

You were amused with where this was going, seeing Miguel’s professional act starting to surface. A scientist eager to teach (and please).

You felt him run his hand over your neck. Spots of goosebumps rose on your skin from the cool air in the room.

“Your skin is so soft…” He murmured into your sensitive skin, making you shiver.

Another advantage of being married to a geneticist was that Miguel knew all the sensitive areas on the body and what made you tick. Even before you did anything together, he was aware of all the areas that could arouse a woman.

His lips grazed over your collarbone, trailing down to where it meets the shoulders.

“The collarbone is connected to your shoulders by the supraclavicular ligament,” he explained softly. He kissed the soft skin around the area.

“Suprac—clavic—ular ligament—” Each syllable accelerated in pitch as you tried to repeat after him.

His hand reached behind your back to unclip your bra before slipping them off, one strap at a time.

Your breasts were now fully exposed and he reached over and cupped one with his large hands.

“The breasts are a collection of organs that play an important role in the reproduction of human females, amor. They are key to producing milk,” He kissed along your chest until he reached the valley between the two breasts.

“They also serve to attract a sexual partner…which seems to be working on us.”

You didn’t expect him to lick the skin where his lips hovered over between your breasts. You shuddered in shock until he pulled away to look up at you again.

“They’re also erogenous zones, making them more sensitive to simulations. Would you like me to demonstrate?” You nodded in response.

You managed to catch the corner of his lips curve up in amusement, even if he made a concerted effort to conceal how turned on he was right now.

He wore the familiar analytical veneer he always carried when he was working in the lab, except this time you could see his excitement babbling beneath the surface.

He dipped his head until his mouth latched onto one of your breasts. Despite knowing this was going to happen, you couldn’t help the surprise whimper that slipped from your mouth.

His tongue lapped over your hardened nipple while his other hand still fondled with your other breast. You groaned out from his touches, running one of your hands over the locks of his hair.

It was flattering, seeing Miguel soaking in everything from you, even when you felt like you had little to offer. Miguel seemed to never get enough of you and to this day, your heart still leaped out of you chest with him around.

He released your nipples and you were met with hooded crimson eyes, dazed and awestrucked. You couldn’t stop your shoulders from bunching together in shyness at him.

He moneuvered you so you were laying your back on the bed. Two broad arms rested besides you on the bed with his abs displayed over you.

“Between the legs are the female reproductive system, we’ll be focusing on the labia minora and the labia majora for this lesson,”

He pulled your panties down, revealing your wetness between your thighs.

A sudden rush of cold air brushed against your folds, making you more wet and exposed. His hand reached over, extending out of your line of sight until his fingers were lightly stroking around the delicate flesh.

“The labia minora is a set of two fleshy folds that form around the inner portion of the labia majora. They are positioned around the vaginal opening to protect the urethra and…”

You gasped when you felt one of his fingers slip into your slick cunt before slowly moving in and out of you.

“…and the vagina.”

His sentence was finished off with the soft sounds of your slick from his fingers along with your breathy moans. Your walls fluttered around his finger while he slipped in another digit in, prompting you to grip onto the sheets tightly.

He moved to your ear and spoke in a lowered tone, his breath brushing against your earlobe. “Do you remember which hormones are released when a person is aroused?”

He rubbed his thumb over your swollen clit while watching you fall apart from his touches. You couldn’t fully process the question in your head, let alone form a coherent response.

“God— Miguel-!” You babbled out.

“Come on amor, I know you know the answer,” he coaxed, having the audacity to continue teasing your cunt with his fingers.

He was going to keep teasing until he got an answer from you. You wouldn’t be surprised if he refused to let you come too until you responded to him with the right answer.

“O-oxytocin and…hm-m…serotonin?” Your words came staggered and breathless. You were fighting the urge to rock your hips further to ride on his finger but you knew better not to push your luck. This was for science after all.

“Such a smart wife. Are you feeling it, amor? The euphoric feeling and the release of the hormones throughout your body?” Miguel was still near your ear as he asked.

You were so drawn into bliss, you almost forgot about the whole biology lesson and the practical demonstration.

You could tell that watching how responsive you were to his touches excited him, especially if it included him talking about what he knew best.

He withdrew his his hands away and curved his finger so none of your slick slipped away. He spread his fingers apart, watching the string of your fluids clinging onto the pads of his fingers.

You felt your face heat up in astonishment, you’ve never seen yourself leak that much before.

You weren’t surprised to see him stick his fingers in his mouth to clean himself up. He ate you out before so this was nothing new to him.

Once he was satisfied, he manoeuvred himself to remove his pants along with his boxers, freeing his aching cock. Despite the low lighting, you could still see it throbbing and the veins lining on the skin.

You sat up enough so you could reach to his cock. You wrapped your hand around his length, earning a low groan from him. “Since we covered the female, do you wanna walk me through the male anatomy now?”

You swiped your thumb over the tip where his pre-cum was leaking from. You were purposefully tormenting him now.

“You’re unbelievable,” he grunted, but you could clearly see he couldn’t stop the grin tugging on his lips.

“Come on Mig, do it for biology,”

You started stroking his length, making sure you touched every part of his skin from the base to the tip.

His breathing became shallow with low whimpers stringing out but he tried to compose himself before he spoke.

“The penis and the testicles both….have a lot of blood flow to them but— hmm.. the main purpose of the testicles is to produce testosterone and—” He couldn’t help the low moan that came out when he felt you increase your pace, but he was still determined to finish.

“Go on…” you prodded.

“…produce testosterone and sperm cells…dios— the penis….the penis is the biggest part of the male anatomy. It allows urination, ejaculation or urine and semen, shit! It also helps the male with erection-!” He finished off the last sentence in one shaky breath. Your hand came to a halt around his tip.

“Thanks for the clarification…” You released his dick swiftly, satisfied by his explanation.

After catching his breath and recomposing himself, Miguel positioned himself so his dick was near your opening. His tip nuzzled against your folds with you silky walls clenching desperately onto nothingness.

You were ready for him, even your clit was throbbing in anticipation, and there was nothing you wanted more than to have him inside you right now.

“Now that we’ve completed the preliminary, I think we should come to the conclusion,” he said.

You couldn’t help the breathy giggles from your lips. He was really immersing himself in the role, playing the part of a tutor with dedication and charm.

He pushed himself inside of you. You haven’t done anything in a while so you had to allow yourself to readjust to his length again.

You fleshy walls struggled to open up but eventually you did accomodate to his size, feeling the familiarity of him.

Once he was all the way in, he came to a halt. Feeling yourself stretch out for him was dizzying. But sudden realisation hit you.

“Miguel, I might be on my fertility window…” you interjected, a tinge of nervousness in your voice.

While you and Miguel have discussed growing a family together in the past, the timing never felt right, and you weren’t ready for the responsibility of motherhood yet.

You’ve been taking birth control pills for your peace of mind. However, with the onset of your work project, you’ve stopped taking the pills and your body was still adjusting to the withdrawal— including your accelerated libido.

Miguel’s face didn’t falter but you could practically see the gears turning in his head from your statement. Everything felt more apparent, especially now with his dick buried inside of you.

“What are you trying to tell me, amor?” You could feel his cock twitching in anticipation inside of you and touching your cervix, almost making you lose your bearing.

“I’m off the pills Miguel. So there’s a chance that I might get knocked up after this…but it is part of biology, right?”

You ran your hands over his broad chest and he closed his eyes, leaning into your touch before resting his forehead on yours.

“You wanna be a mami?” He asked, assuring full clarity and consent from you.

Miguel, a devoted lover, would do anything to make you happy and would give you a family if that’s what you wished for. You nodded and that’s when you knew, he was ready for fatherhood too.

Your hands now wrapped around his naps, fingers lacing together. His gaze dropping to where you bodies joined.

He dragged himself out, feeling the suction from your walls, before snapping his hips back in again. The friction against your walls forced a whine out of you.

He began rolling his hips repeatedly against you in a steady rhythm, each slap ending in a jolt of overwhelming ecstasy. Your fingers were losing their grip around his neck and your hands slipped, with your nails now pressing onto his back.

Your mind and senses started to evaporate and all you could think of right now was chasing your high and Miguel filling you up with his cum, staining you and finally getting you pregnant.

You wanted to feel him for weeks, feel how much he stretched you and filled you. Your nails were digging further into his back as he thrusted deeper into you, hitting your cervix with each snap of his hips.

“Gimme a baby, Mig.” You moaned out, the mere throughly of him breeding you drove you insane. You needed his fill, you needed him to knock you up.

“Sí amor, I’ll give you as many babies as you want,”

His thrusts became more sporadic and you sensed he was lost in a haze too. A few strands of his hair stuck to the moisture that developed on his forehead. You were sinking further into the sheets, taking in everything he was giving you.

The room filled with the bed creaking in protest and the slap of his hips into yours. Soon, his pace became sloppy and uneven.

You watched the familiar trence of your husband’s climax unfold. You always felt a sense of pride knowing that only you could see him so scattered outside the composed and stoic demeanor that everyone else was used to.

His brows furrowed in full concentration and his words came out messy and slurred along with strings of your name.

He finished off with his cum pulsating inside of you in thick loads. He didn’t pull his his hips back until both balls were drenched into you. You felt your walls clenched from the withdrawal as he pulled out.

Immediately, Miguel grabbed one of the pillows and positioned it beneath you, elevating your rear.

“Keep it in there,” he instructed. He didn’t want any of his cum to go to waste and leak out.

He starts to massage your thighs to sooth any aches you were feeling. You mind drifted back to the birth control pill that you still kept in the cabinet. There was still another box left, yet you knew that you weren’t planning to take them anymore.

You mentally reminded yourself to dispose them in the morning. You looked up at Miguel again, who was still massaging your thighs.

You sighed. “You know there’s a chance I might not get pregnant the first time…”

In that moment, vulnerability wrapped around your words which connected the both of you in shared acknowledgment.

You let your mind wandered about finally getting pregnant, with Miguel praising you and kissing your swollen belly. You imagined all the appointments you’d have to attend to, leading up to the day of your baby’s arrival.

“So, does that mean we’ll be having more biology classes?” Miguel stopped massaging and spread you legs again to display your slick core.

“I think so…how about another round?”

He leaned into kiss your forehead. “I’m down if you are.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @slootbear @thealleydog @huniedeux @lazy-idate @club-danger-zone @blankknsfww @ivory3577 @spdrwdw @migueloharasoulmate @ednaaa-04 @miguelbaby @alyeskathewave @r7yirr @palesatan @keigoloveminty @krentkova19 @laysmt @daisy-artfield @famouscattale @fairywitch2000 @lazyjellyfish300 @ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii

Does anyone recognise the banner I used at the top of the post??

Part 2

2K notes · View notes

wil-o-wispy · 4 months

Text

The Wife, the Lover and the Bastard Son - Part 2

Chris Redfield x FM! Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 (you are here) | Part 3 | Part 4

Synopsis: It's the morning after Chris Redfield took care of you and things are oddly... domestic?

Includes: MDNI - NSFW, fluff, banter, angst, oral (FM reader receiving), porn with plot, use of pet names (sweetheart, good girl, pretty girl, baby, gorgeous), minor reader injury from previous part, reference to drinking in the previous part. Reader is referred to as 'Doc' otherwise. Reader is the wife of (dead) Albert Wesker and is a former Umbrella scientist.

A/N: WOO this took so long to get out. I can't write linearly to save my life and my writer brain wanted to work on plot stuff taking place after this chapter. On the bright side the next few parts should get done quicker. Hopefully. This is also my first spicy writing thing so have fun!

wc: 6.5k+

The first thing you notice when you wake up the next morning is the pounding headache behind your eyes and a throbbing in your foot. You lift an arm over your face and groan, the cheery brightness of the morning sun still too much for your blurry eyes to properly accommodate to. For a few precious minutes, you just lay in bed trying to string together a coherent thought other than, ‘I’m never drinking whiskey again,’ because you know that promise won’t last the month.

Then it all comes back to you. The almost-bar fight. Chris driving you home. The broken glass. Chris comforting you. Bits and pieces of the previous night stitch themselves together and you are both relieved and embarrassed of its events.

It feels like a monumental weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Sure, the dirty looks would stay along with your reputation, but Chris Redfield doesn’t think you’re a monster. However, the relief is almost overshadowed by a creeping sense of embarrassment. You never show that kind of vulnerability in front of anyone. Not even Albert after the Mansion incident.

Despite the conflicting feelings, you’re thankful that Chris had the foresight to put you into your bed and tuck you in. Everything after crawling into Chris’ lap and crying your eyes out is hazy due to your alcohol consumption, but you do have a distinct memory of being lifted off the ground and carried by a pair of strong, warm and comforting arms past a broom propped up on the doorway to the kitchen.

The broom. The glass. Your foot. There’s still blood and glass in the foyer that you have to clean up.

With a groan, you roll out of bed, stretching to relieve some of the tightness in your muscles that accompanies a bad hangover. It’s at this point you realize you’re wearing a sweatshirt that you hadn’t worn the night before. Your heart stops in your chest until you lift the hem of it and see you’re still wearing the nice shirt you wore to your D.S.O. interview the day before.

Chris. Always the gentleman.

You take stock of what you’re wearing; oversized sweatshirt, nice shirt, nice pants, no socks, but a sizeable amount of gauze is on one foot. While you take stock of yourself and your surroundings, you also notice a couple aspirin and a sports drink on your bedside table that you know you didn’t have in the house last night. Chris cared both about your comfort and boundaries while intoxicated, as well as the aftermath of it. He even went out and bought you items to help with your hangover.

Another event to add to the overflowing list of reasons why you don’t deserve him.

Or do you? He doesn’t fault you for your dead husband’s actions. He goes to bat for you when the B.S.A.A., D.S.O., or any other anti-bioterrorism organization is up your ass. He listens when you need to vent and drink your sorrows away. He’s kind. He’s considerate. He’s a good man. He’s everything that Albert wasn’t.

Stop it.

You pop the aspirin in your mouth and wash it down with the sports drink, dismissing any other thoughts on how good Chris had been to you. Things in your life were already too complicated. No use in entertaining far-fetched fantasies. He’s got to be this considerate with anyone, right? You couldn’t recall a specific instance comparable to last night that would justify that thought, but you try to think of one as you strip off the clothes from the night before and throw on some clean loungewear. You opt to wear some sleep shorts and a t-shirt.

As you get dressed, you rediscover an offer letter that you’d forgotten to reject. Even though your last name gave you a reputation, numerous branches of the B.S.A.A. requested your transfer every year due to your expertise in bioweapons research. After all, who would be better at combatting these threats than someone who witnessed their creation and aftermath? This one was more tempting than most; an offer to work in B.S.A.A. Europe HQ in Germany, Head Researcher position, fully furnished apartment included and competitive salary.

You crumple the offer letter and toss it in the trash. Tempting, but stability is on the top of your list of priorities at the moment. An international move is the opposite of that. You go into your bathroom attached to your bedroom and do your morning routine, opting to worry about a shower later.

You go out into the hallway, hobbling a bit with the injured foot but staying upright without trouble. The aspirin is starting to kick in and you’re already feeling a bit better. You make a list in your head of things to get done before burying yourself in blankets on the couch; sweep up the glass, mop the foyer of the remaining blood, take a shower, make a greasy breakfast, binge watch something.

Your mental list is interrupted by sounds coming from your kitchen. Confused, you turn down the hall and see Chris’ car keys still on the table in the entryway. You also see the floor is devoid of glass, blood, and the medical supplies from the night before.

Chris hears you pad into the kitchen and flashes his signature grin as he turns bacon on your stove with a fork. There’s a plate with finished bacon pieces on a paper towel next to the stove, as well as two plates with toast.

“Morning Doc.”

“Morning. You stayed the night?” Your tone is cordial. It’s not accusatory because, oddly enough, you don’t mind Chris sleeping over. At any point before last night, you would have been miffed and probably would have given a speech arguing you could take care of yourself and that he had a lot of nerve spending the night considering your history. But Chris making you breakfast still stirs up that guilt of him doing more nice things for you to add on to the laundry list of favors he’d done for you over the years. But you can’t deny the smell of what he’s cooking makes your mouth water.

“Yeah, I took the couch. You had a lot to drink. I just wanted to make sure you woke up okay.”

You snort. “Right. You sure you weren’t just avoiding having to sleep in the barracks last night?”

Chris chuckles at your joke and holds his hands up in playful surrender. “You got me. Can’t pull the wool over your eyes.”

You return the smile and hobble next to Chris by the stove, leaning on the counter next to him just watching him cook. You have to make a conscious effort to focus on the food, and not to stare at Chris’ battle toned forearms for too long.

“Now I can accept you making sure I don’t choke on my own vomit, but this-” You gesture to the stove and the entryway, “-is crossing the line. You’re in my house. I’m supposed to take care of you. Not the other way around.”

“What? I can’t treat my host to breakfast and a cleaner house?” He’s still jovial when turns his attention back to the stove and turns the bacon.

“That’s reverse hospitality,” You quip.

“Then consider me a reverse guest,” Chris answers.

You let out an exasperated sigh and your body slumps. “Chris, seriously you didn’t have to do all that-”

“I wanted to.” Chris stops looking at the bacon in the pan and looks you in the eyes.

You two stare at each other in silence, gazes locked in a battle of wills.

“You don’t have to do everything yourself.” Chris says softly, with a hint of authority in his tone.

“I know that.” You bite back, challenging him.

Chris raises an eyebrow, and you see a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Do you?”

More silence. You let out another sigh and you break from his gaze to stare at the floor instead.

“You’ve already done more for me than I could ever hope to repay. I don’t need to owe you more favors for something like last night.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“Bullshit.” You look back up at him in disbelief; mouth open and eyebrows knitted together.

“No bullshit. I’m serious.”

You open your mouth to argue more, but Chris shushes you and places a cup of hot tea in your hands before you can protest. You didn’t even notice it sitting next to the stove. You feel the comforting warmth of his fingers ghost over yours as he guides your hand to take hold of the mug handle.

“No bullshit, you have my word. Now sit down, rest that foot, enjoy your drink, and let me handle everything else.”

You open and close your mouth, trying to articulate a response. There’s not much you can say to argue against that, especially when his gentle touch is making your brain go haywire. The captain is a man of his word. Those perceptive eyes of his hold no hint of deception, only genuine kindness like you saw the night before. Not to mention there’s something undeniably attractive about him wanting to take care of you in such a gentle, authoritative manner. You relent and take a sip of tea trying to calm your racing heart.

“Thanks.”

Chris’ face lights up and he flashes another smile. “Thatta girl. How do you like your eggs?”

You try to ignore the butterflies erupting in your stomach when he says that. “I’m not picky, however you’re having them.” You push yourself off the counter, snatch a piece of bacon from the plate and hobble over to the barstool sitting area at the kitchen island behind Chris.

“Save some for your meal.” You hear Chris smiling as he says that.

“I’m making sure it’s crispy enough. Sue me.”

Your conversation goes on in that comfortable rhythm all throughout breakfast; casual conversation with witty remarks thrown in followed by a joke that starts the cycle all over again. Chris sits on the stool next to you, and you both enjoy the two plates of toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon that Chris had made.

“You’re going to spoil me at this rate.” You say with a grin.

“You make that sound like a bad thing.”

“It kind of is. You’re going to make me miss having you around to clean up my messes and make me food.” You eat your toast, keeping up the playful banter.

“And what if I am?” The way Chris says that doesn’t make it sound like he’s joking, but you brush it off and roll your eyes, munching on the last of your bacon. “I’d call your bluff.”

“Why do you think it’s a bluff?”

You sit there just looking at your fork for a beat, trying to think of the best way to phrase your thoughts. You can’t think of anything, but you turn your gaze back to Chris and answer him with a question. “Because why would you care if I miss you?”

“Because who wouldn’t want the attention of a woman like you?” Chris’ expression shifts from that kind expression you’re used to, to a more wistful and romantic one.

Your mouth goes dry and your heart races in your chest. It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. “People with half a brain and a shred of common sense.” The statement is said with your signature dry sense of humor, but there’s also an edge of something akin to a warning. It doesn’t deter Chris in the slightest.

“Ouch. At least I’ve got my looks going for me,” he quips with a smirk. It amazes you that he’s still joking about something you think is so serious. It makes you want to wipe that sexy smile right off his face. Whether it’s with a kiss or sharp words is still up for debate.

“Chris-” You warn sharply.

“Doc-” Chris says, pleadingly.

“No. It’s a bad idea. End of story.” Your tone comes out much gentler than you intend. You pick at the last of your food, not wanting to look at Chris and betray your true feelings that you’ve tried so hard to suppress over the years. He killed your husband. Your evil, narcissistic, psychopathic husband. Despite who Albert was, it felt like you would cross some sort of moral boundary you couldn’t come back from if you indulged in those thoughts. But the longer Chris looks at you with that wanting gaze, the less imposing that boundary becomes.

“You know me. I love bad ideas.” As Chris speaks in a low, romantic tone, your mind runs wild and your cheeks flush red with all the possible interpretations of his words.

You hear the barstool next to you squeak, Chris’ hand comes into your vision, rests delicately on your cheek, and tilts your head back towards him. His face is dangerously close to yours. You see every detail of his face; his dark hazel eyes, the small mole under his right eye, the stubble on his jaw, the subtle hair growth around his mouth and chin, and finally his lips.

You don’t know who leans in first, but one moment you’re committing Chris’ face to memory, and the next your lips are against his. Your eyes close and time stops. The kiss is slow, methodical and fills you with a pleasant warmth that makes your stomach flip and heart skip a beat.

You can’t remember the last time you had a kiss like this, and you don’t want to. All you want to do in this moment is experience everything Chris has to offer. Everything.

It feels like an eternity has passed when you both finally break for air. You breathe in a shaky breath. Shaky from how weak in the knees the kiss made you, as well as nervous energy from crossing that boundary you’d made for yourself. You just kissed the man who killed your husband and you liked it. Not only that, but that kiss stirred something lustful inside you that makes you want even more.

“Look at me pretty girl.” Chris whispers. His hand still holds the side of your face while his thumb caresses your cheekbone.

You open your eyes, and you see Chris smiling at you. It falters and switches into something much more concerned when he sees your conflicted look.

“We can stop if you want to. I can leave and we can agree this never happened if that’s what you want.” You can feel his hot breath on your face as he murmurs in a low tone.

Maybe it’s the residual feeling of safety due to the events of the night before, an accumulation of repressed want from years working alongside each other, or maybe it’s just the need to feel someone else’s loving embrace. Morality be damned. Maybe it’s the pounding of your heart drowning out all common sense, but you crave the man in front of you more than anything in the universe right now. Your next words come out in a wanting murmur.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

This time, it’s you that leans back in to kiss Chris’ incredulous expression, but he immediately melts back into your lips. Once it’s established that this is something you’re craving, Chris earnestly returns the enthusiasm. Sweet kisses morph into fervent tastes for more as your lips intertwine with Chris’. Tongues dance in a teasing duel for dominance that you are all too happy to lose just so you can feel how eager Chris is to feast on your sighs of pleasure. Bask in your shivers of ecstasy. Relish in your desperate pants for oxygen from him taking your breath away.

The only thing you can even comprehend with his inviting tongue intertwining with yours is that it’s not enough. You want more. You need more. More of his warmth, more of his lips, more of him. The heat that Chris awoke in you has grown from mere embers to a growing, starving flame that wants to savor and devour everything that’s yet to come.

It doesn’t take long to know Chris feels the exact same way. Committing your pleasure to memory with his hands and lips won’t do. With how far you were leaning into his embrace, you were halfway to touching his lap already, but Chris eagerly expediates the process. His hands abandon your cheek and neck to claim your hips and guide you to sit on his lap where you belong. You take a sharp intake of breath and clutch Chris’ shoulders for balance from the change in position, but Chris is quick to soothe your concerns while keeping his lips on any inch of your skin he can reach.

“Don’t worry baby I’ve got you. I’ve got you…”

You reposition yourself on his lap so you feel more secure in Chris’ grasp, but you accidentally grind against his crotch. A deep groan is released from Chris’ lips and he kisses your skin with more fervor. Being positioned the way you are on his lap, it’s difficult not to notice the growing hardness underneath his jeans.

“All that for me?” You try to be sultry, but don’t do a good job of it because you can barely get any discernible words out with how hard you’re breathing.

“Have you seen yourself sweetheart?” Chris leaves wet kisses from your collarbone to your neck, then captures your lips in a ravenous kiss. “Fucking gorgeous with your cheeks all red like that…”

Chris lifts you up off his lap effortlessly and you gasp and hold onto his shoulders as he places you on the counter in front of him. Once you’re secure, his hands are quick to wander and caress everything he can reach; from your hips, to your ass, to your thighs, then hips, then ribs, lower back then repeating the pathing again. Eagerness and patience are at war with each other as he alternates between greedily clutching each soft feature and methodically caressing every one of your curves as if trying to commit them to memory.

You’re breathing heavily when he rips his lips away from yours and starts kissing you down your jaw to your throat. He feverishly leaves open mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin tenderly yet enthusiastically. You can tell he’s savoring every part of you, clearly eager to do more but wanting to enjoy every detail of your physique first. It takes no time at all for him to find the spots that make you squirm and pant in his embrace. When his teeth lightly graze your pulse point, your legs reflexively tighten around his waist, but you accidentally bump the barstool behind Chris with your injured foot with a loud clunk and curse. The throbbing in your foot is back with full force, making you wince. Worse, Chris pulls away from your neck and stares at you intensely with a worried look. Slightly flushed cheeks and labored breath.

“You alright?” He looks behind him and sees the scene of the crime, and lightly scoots the barstool a safe distance away with his foot. Chris moves to lean down and examine your foot, but you’re quick to grasp his face and lovingly bring it back to yours. You kiss Chris’ cheek and give him a reassuring smile.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” You lean back in to kiss Chris, ignoring the shooting pain from your injured foot and getting lost in the intoxicating taste of his lips. Chris’ worried expression melts away somewhat, but he still speaks lowly between breaks for air.

“You need to rest that foot on something.”

“Later,” You whisper, going back in to capture his lips again.

The captain slides one of his large, calloused hands on the back of your head and strokes the hair there, and you think you’ve convinced him to drop the subject. Oh how wrong you are.

In one moment, you’re getting lost in the feeling of Chris’ hands on the back of your head and shoulders, and the next Chris has pushed your plates to the side and laid you swiftly, but gently, on your back.

“Chris!” You whine as you try to sit up, but you’re stopped by a large hand putting weight on your ribcage and fleeting kisses down your neck and chest. His voice is muffled from how close his face is to your trembling body, but you hear him speak in that authoritative, husky voice again as he continues to kiss further down your chest. “Uh uh, you stay put.” You’re about to protest the change in position, wanting nothing more than to keep Chris’ lips on yours, but his lips on your inner thigh make your words die in your throat. Chris lightly sucks the area while his darkening gaze is honed in on your face.

“I meant it when I said you need to rest that foot…” Chris places another lingering kiss on your inner thigh slightly closer to your aching core. “…so be a good girl and put those pretty thighs over my shoulders.”

The effects of his words are immediate; blood rushes to your cheeks so quickly that you feel lightheaded, the heat in your abdomen that was kindled by his touch burns hotter, and your lips part in silent shock and anticipation of what he’ll do next. For once, your brain has short circuited, and you don’t have anything to say. All you can do is gape and nod as you hook your knee with the injured foot over his shoulder.

“Good. Now I want you to relax and let me take care of you. Okay?” The low vibrating timbre of his voice is so close to your aching clit that you arch your back and whine, nodding.

Chris continues to be a paradox of patience and eagerness as he coaxes more and more delicious sounds from you. His large hands greedily grasp the flesh of your hips and thighs, but don’t grope close enough to give you the stimulation you crave. His mouth worships the space between your thigh and groin but never dares venture further than the rolled-up edge of your night shorts where you’re clenching around nothing. He never stimulates what is begging to be loved underneath despite how much both of you crave it.

“Chris…please.” You beg, eyes clouded over with lust and need.

“Hmmmm… I don’t hear you say that a lot.” You can practically hear the shit eating smile in his voice as Chris keeps kissing you the same way as before, but one of his fingers teasingly traces the hem of your shorts. He’s right. You don’t. That little comment would infuriate you if the wetness between your thighs and throbbing clit weren’t on the top of the list of things on your mind right now. If you have to say please to get Chris to take care of you, you’ll relent and do it.

“Please just to-oooh!” Your desperate request is cut short by a moan being released from the back of your throat.

Chris keeps kissing the sensitive spots between your thighs, but two of his fingers have slipped under the edge of your shorts by the groin and is lightly rubbing the fabric over your engorged bundle of nerves. He experiments with different speeds and pressures until he finds the ones that make your back arch, eyes roll to the back of your head, and thighs close around his face. Just when you’re bucking your hips into his hand and you feel your pleasure building, you feel his fingers retreat.

“Chris!” You whine, body relaxing back into the counter but desperate for more of his touch.

“I know baby, I’ll take care of it.” Chris assures you as he hooks his fingers into the crotch of your shorts and underwear, pulling them to one side then practically diving into your dripping folds. His mouth is greedy when he’s finally between your thighs where you want him to be. Chris’ tongue laves at your entrance with long, languid strokes at first, but quickly devolves into him thrusting his tongue into your cunt so deeply that his nose is bumping your clit with each plunge of his tongue and you writhing and panting in pleasure as your climax quickly builds back to where Chris’ fingers left off.

He tries to be patient and draw it out for your sake, he really does, but you taste too good. Your moans and whimpers of ecstasy sound too pretty. The way you’re grabbing his forearm arm that’s caging your hips to the counter for dear life that so obviously signals how close you are is the biggest turn on. His mouth gorges on your release and he swears it’s his new favorite meal.

That starving flame in your abdomen that Chris has been feeding this whole time is so close to overtaking you, but you need more and Chris can sense this in how you tremble around him and desperate cries of his name tumble from your lips. He replaces his tongue with one of his fingers and he keeps up the same speed and intensity while his lips latch on to your clit, gently sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves and tongue making purposeful, salacious strokes that makes your face contort in delight.

You fall apart in mere moments. Your back arches as you feel your orgasm crash through you like a tidal wave and the pleasure is almost overwhelming. You cling to Chris’ forearm as you ride out the powerful sensation. Even with your thighs closing in around his head, his lips don’t let up their assault on your clit until you’re bordering on being overstimulated and trying to push his head away. Your thighs twitch from the aftermath, your cunt and clit throb from the greedy attention of Chris’ lovemaking, and you’re pretty sure you have breadcrumbs in your hair from the toast in the long forgotten breakfast that was made for you.

Even with all of that, it still leaves you with a warm, comfortable sense of pleasure and a blissfully hazy mind.

Chris gently laps up the mess between your folds with his tongue, both determined not to let a drop of you go to waste as well as to prolong your pleasure while you come back down to Earth. With a final quick kiss to your clit that makes your hips twitch into his mouth, Chris tenderly moves the crotch of your panties and shorts back over your pelvis. He uses the collar of his t-shirt to wipe your release from his chin, and licks his finger clean.

You feel boneless when he sits you up. You’re breathing is shallow, but slowly returning to normal when Chris brings you to his chest. You rest your head on his shoulder and lazily wrap your arms around his waist. His hand is under your shirt at your lower back, hand pressed against your spine and rubbing the area firmly while his other hand cradles your head at the back of your neck. For the first time in what feels like years, you feel wanted and loved. The warmth of his hands and arms as well as his breath in your ear feels so addicting. You don’t want him to let go.

“You still with me gorgeous?” He whispers into your ear.

“Yeah…” You mumble, smiling into Chris’ neck as he cuddles you. A deep chuckle vibrates in Chris’ chest, and he plants a soft kiss on your temple. Then another one on your cheekbone. Then another next to your ear…

You giggle and close your eyes, “Someone’s eager.”

“Hard not to be with such a beautiful woman in front of me.”

After a few more kisses Chris gently moves you off his shoulder so you can sit up and look at him with half lidded eyes. For a moment you just sit there blinking slowly at him relishing in his embrace, and he’s just smiling at your fucked out expression. His hand slides from the back of your next to your cheek. He rubs the skin there with his thumb for a moment, then leans in to kiss you properly.

Just when Chris is a breath away from tasting your lips, a jarring ringtone cracks through the air and brings you back to reality. It’s Chris’ phone, but he doesn’t make a move to answer it. He only pauses at the first ring and captures your lips in a sweet kiss on the second.

“You’re not going to answer that?”

“They’ll call back if it’s important.” Chris murmurs against your lips and goes back in for more, seemingly drunk off the taste of you and your affection as you chuckle and kiss him back. After a few more seconds, the phone stops ringing only for it to resume again almost immediately after.

“I guess it’s important.” You sigh against Chris’ lips when you reluctantly pull away. Chris lets out a frustrated breath and pulls back, still not making a move to answer the call. His gaze darts from your eyes to your lips like he’s thinking about ignoring it again. You know better. The captain is a busy and well-respected man. You’ll be damned if that gets ruined because he can’t keep his hands off you. You smile sympathetically at him and kiss his cheek.

“I’ll clean up while you take care of that.” You move to get off the counter, but Chris’ strong hands at your hips stop you.

“I told you that you need to rest your foot.”

“You can convince me to elevate it again after you deal with that soldier boy. But until then-” You lean to the side to grab Chris’ phone, remove his hand from your hip, then plop the phone in his palm. “-duty calls.” You reply cheekily, giving the speechless captain a smirk before lowering yourself off the counter to collect the plates.

Chris shakes his head, smiles, presses a button on his phone and lifts it to his ear. “Hello?” You turn on the sink and begin washing the plates. You hear Chris reply in a more serious tone, and turn out of the kitchen to take the call in the living room. “Yeah, this is Captain Redfield.” Over the sound of the water you can’t hear who’s on the other end, but you can gather this is a serious conversation. You just hope it isn’t notifying Chris of a new outbreak, or something else that would require his immediate attention. You’d hate for it to disrupt such a pleasurable morning.

After you finish washing the plates, you turn off the tap and begin drying them. The speaker on Chris’ phone isn’t loud by any means, but in the silence of your little house you can clearly hear the conversation in the living room from your kitchen sink. And on the other end of the call, you hear a familiar, grating voice.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach. It doesn’t take a genius to know that it’s the D.S.O. agent from your interview the day before. From the sound of it, the agent still had a stick up his ass and seemed to be grilling Chris with the same intensity he was questioning you. You can make out the tinny voice of the D.S.O. agent, clearly not liking Chris’ answers. “You want to know what I think captain? I think you’ve been soft on her.”

You can hear the scowl in Chris’ voice when he answers the agent with the same level of disdain while also remaining professional. “And I think you’re being harsh because you’re trying to see things that aren’t there. Aren’t government agents supposed to practice due process? She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Her husband almost destroyed the world. You really expect me to just take her word that she didn’t help?”

“She has been nothing but cooperative since then. Every bit of information she’s given the B.S.A.A. has checked out. Plus, her work after the fact has prevented more outbreaks than I’m cleared to talk about. There is no reason to suspect her of bioterrorism.”

There’s silence on the other end of the call, then the sound of a throat being cleared. “Well captain I called to inform you that I need to bring in a third party to verify your claims. No hard feelings of course, but I do believe your history with her is clouding your judgement.”

A range of emotions hits you all at once when you hear that. Anger at this asshole for being thick in the head. Annoyance at the fact that you’ll probably have to do yet another pointless interview about Africa. Then finally, a paralyzing uneasiness at the agent’s implication against Chris. You’ve been too soft on her. Chris’ high professional opinion of you alone results in distrust.

“Yeah, you do that. We done here?” You hear Chris reply cooly, but the rest of the conversation in drowned out by your inner turmoil.

Chris being in close professional proximity to you already turns heads, and not in a good way. Sure the people who can understand your work respect your intellect and appreciate the help, but everyone else sees the shadow of Albert’s memory.

All is takes is someone breathing the name Wesker and the seed of distrust is already planted. Chris being in your corner alleviates some of that, albeit with bewildered looks and reluctant agreement.

You working with Chris is already unusual, but people respect him so they go along with the strange dynamic you two have. Would that respect remain if people knew you were fucking him? Would his team still follow him with full confidence into battle with no questions asked if they knew he was making you cry out his name after the mission was said and done? Would Chris still be sent on missions to clear up the loose ends of Umbrella’s misgivings if his superiors knew he was coming home to you, who literally slept with the enemy? In your mind, absolutely not.

How could you be so reckless? So selfish? You know you won’t be able to salvage any of Chris’ reputation by your own volition. Only taint it. In your mind, there can easily be a future where you and Chris are together, but the world slowly falls apart because of the distrust of you and the once infallible captain. True, Chris isn’t the B.S.A.A.’s only veteran, but he’s undoubtedly one of the most revered.

Before you can spiral further, two calloused hands grip your hips and a pair of lips tenderly kiss the space behind your ear. You can hear a smile and a suggestive mischievousness in Chris’ voice.

“I have to head out soon to handle a few things, but I’m going to make sure that foot is nice and elevated before I go.”

You heart flips and you can feel your cunt throb hearing his offer. You momentarily consider letting Chris have another taste of you, but instead you stick to your resolve. “You can head out now. This isn’t going to work out the way you think it will.”

You feel Chris’ grip on your hips soften and wait for his response. You can clearly envision him connecting the dots in his head of why you had a change of heart.

“Don’t let one asshole ruin something good for you.” Chris’ voice is soft, soothing. Pleading. One of his hands leaves your hips and tries to lace itself on top of your hand gripping the sink. You snatch your hand back and move away from his addictive embrace so there is an appropriate amount of space between you two. Your voice is serious and even. You look at Chris head on. His previously captivating eyes are confused.

“That’s not the point. You are so lucky people look up to you. I’m not going to ruin that by entertaining this.”

“I think that’s a joint decision-” Chris starts, but you’re quick to shut him down.

“No. You don’t get a say in this. You need to go, and we are going to forget today even happened.”

“Doc, that’s just one agent-”

“Among dozens more who think what he’s thinking but keep their opinions to themselves, so they don’t speak out against the B.S.A.A.’s golden boy.”

Chris looks like he's carefully picking his next words but you speak out before he has the chance to form a compelling argument. “I refuse to drag you down to my level. End of discussion. Leave.”

Chris is standing a few paces away from you next to the sink, still looking like he wants to keep insisting on a potential partnership that you know is doomed to fail. Your shoulders slump and you try a different tactic.

“I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I changed my mind. I don’t want you here right now. Please respect that.”

Chris processes your words. He nods his head and heads to the door. “Alright.”

You see him put his hand on his keys on the entryway table, but he doesn’t pick them up. His wanting eyes dart over to you one more time while you refuse to meet his gaze.

“I’ll check in on you next week. Do you need me to get your car picked up?”

Your car is still broken down in the parking lot of the bar from the night before. You sigh in frustration. “Thank you for reminding me. I’ll handle it. Drive safe.”

You can’t look at the front door. You’re not too sure if it would happen, but you don’t want to risk your resolve crumbling if you get a glimpse of Chris’ face. His infuriatingly kind, tempting face.

After a long pause, you finally hear Chris pick up his keys in the entryway and the front door open. “Keep that foot elevated, will ya Doc?”

“Will do.”

Another long pause, and you hear the front door mercifully close. A moment after, an engine starting up, and a large vehicle driving away.

In the silence of your kitchen, solitary living suddenly feels suffocating. Your mind is still racing. Even after being pushed away minutes after eating you out, Chris still wants to do things for you and it makes your heart ache. As strong as your resolve is right now, you’re unsure if you’ll be able to hold out and it terrifies you.

You need distance. Not just emotionally. Physical distance. You know the solution immediately.

In a matter of minutes, you dig out the offer letter from the trash and call the number on the header. When someone finally answers, you’re cordial. Calm.

“Hello, this is Dr. Wesker. I’m calling to learn more about your transfer offer.”

In the span of an hour, your escape plan is set. Europe HQ has booked you on a red eye flight to Germany for later that evening, a work visa is expedited, your new apartment keys are waiting for you across the globe, and you're throwing everything you can't replace in Germany into a suitcase without much throught for organization.

They were surprised to hear you wanted to transfer so quickly, but they were quick to accommodate your reasonable requests. And when they asked if Captain Redfield would still be checking in with you, they were more than understanding about you wanting a local agent to look after you.

Chris Redfield always tries to save everyone.

It’s your turn to make sure you save him from yourself.

_______________________________

Thanks for reading!

#chris redfield x reader smut #chris redfield x reader #resident evil fanfiction #reader is the wife of (dead) albert wesker #reader is a former umbrella scientist #chris redfield #albert wesker #the Wife the Lover and the Bastard Son #angst #no use of y/n #domestic fluff #frenemies to lovers #no beta we die like men

84 notes · View notes

ohno-the-sun · 5 months

Text

Continuation of the Mad Scientist AU Moon ending

What happens after Y/N returns?

Content Warnings: Horror, animal death, death, blood, body horror

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was only a month later when I died too.

When I first left, it felt slow– difficult. Like a bandaid slowly being pulled from loose skin it stung with afterburns.

I hated it.

More than anything I wanted to stay with Sun, to help him.

But with every experiment run, with every test and data point analyzed I could only think of him.

He was strange yes. It was still unnerving how he stuck through the flesh of Sun’s eye, but he was alive. He breathed, he talked, he cared in his own strange way.

The way he would prance around the lab, curious about every nook and cranny of the place, getting into things he wasn’t supposed to.

A soft fond ache built in my chest at the memory of him getting into the fertilizer. It took weeks before Sun and I had the lab clean again.

As I ran my hands through the rubbery flesh of the vines wrapping around my best friend’s head, I realized I couldn’t do this anymore.

Sun was getting sicker.

As much as he tried to hide it, it was obvious. I could see the way his eyes grew darker and darker with every passing day, how the vines that wrapped around his head became thicker and heavier.

His movements were slow– deliberate– like one wrong move and he could shatter completely. His starchy clothes hung off of him looser than before. He covered nearly everything now— except his face, but even that was marred with scars from his creation. His skin was taught and thin, I could practically trace the bone structure underneath.

The most unnerving change though– was in his mind.

Sun was always a bit of a nerd. He had a proclivity for perfection and wasn’t afraid of quickly pointing out inconsistencies. Others found it rude and off-putting but I knew it was his way of showing he cared. He noticed you, he cared about what was right and making sure you knew what that was. He listened with such apt attention it felt like every word from your mouth was inscribed with careful precision. He was so good at contradiction because he cared so much about you, about your thoughts and feelings.

His wit was sometimes harsh, but it was quick and pointed.

…

He barely talked now.

Even amid an experiment, on the cusp of maybe finding a cure– he would drift.

Staring for long periods, no input or interaction would break him out.

Even when he was present, there was a slow deliberation that wasn’t there before.

He questioned himself– doubted himself. He spoke and acted with such unnatural trepidation, like even he wasn’t sure what he was saying.

And all I could do was stand by and watch as my best friend slowly died.

…

Maybe it was selfish.

Maybe it was wrong.

But I couldn’t do it anymore.

…

So I left.

…

I don’t know what compelled me to return that day.

I reasoned there were still things in the lab I needed to pick up, but I knew I was going to have to confront him. I knew I was going to have to see him again.

I don’t know what I expected when I opened that door.

But it certainly wasn’t that.

Parasitic vines crept through the whole lab, infecting every achingly familiar corner.

The place was a complete mess, equipment tipped and shattered, old projects strewn about, and I almost stepped on a dead rodent, its entire body wrapped tightly with vines.

And then he stepped out.

The body degraded down only to its bare bones. Foliage and leaves stuck out of every orifice. Vines were wrapped tightly around him, face now just a hollow skull. The bud that had become a sort of eye for him bloomed into an unnerving pattern of petals and leaves.

Though– for some reason– it wasn’t his appearance that took me off guard.

He was still the same Moon that I had left, he seemed almost excited to see me again. Despite the barely functional state of his host he happily stumbled his way to me, leaning down to receive those head scratches he loved so much.

But still that churning in my gut didn’t subside.

I knew Sun was going to die if I left.

Even if I didn’t want to verbalize it before, I still knew deep down.

No, it wasn’t even Sun’s death that put me off so deeply.

…

It was the fact that it had only been three days.

I left on the 24th, leaving with only a small box of my old supplies, I knew I was going to need a second trip. I put it off– but I knew it had to happen.

In only three days Moon had entirely taken over.

In only three days Sun was dead, with little less than a skeleton left.

In only three days Moon had entirely outgrown the body, spreading to all corners of the lab with long searching vines.

…

I did my best to ignore it.

…

I stayed with Moon.

I knew I couldn’t bring him back to my house so I took care of him in the lab.

I did my best– I really did.

I brought him snacks and treats we used to share together, like small salt taffies and caramels. Even if he couldn’t chew them properly anymore he still stuck out small twisting vines to pull apart the sticky things. He reacted with that same sort of fascinated delight.

But still.

There was something off.

The way he would continue to stare even after I gave him all the snacks I had. The way he would push for more until I left.

When I returned with more food he would tear them apart more forcefully each time. His vines no longer searching, but stabbing through the air until they found their mark.

The vines continued to grow in the lab, covering more and more of the floor with every passing day.

The body was getting used less. Before, Moon would attempt to shamble with the corpse and interact with me in the same way as before; begging for pets, playing with my clothes or hair, and even cuddling on my lap. However, more and more often the skeleton would just lie there, only barely moving its head or gesturing with a hand.

I quickly realized Moon wasn’t just in the eye anymore. He had “eyes” everywhere. More and more buds popped up and bloomed into unnerving pits that would track your every move.

It got to the point where the room itself felt alive. Vines twisting and pulsating over the floor and walls. It got to the point where I could barely walk in the room without accidentally stepping on a vine.

Every morning I came back to something different– something new– something unnerving.

Moon was changing I could tell. I wasn’t sure if he was the same small creature I had taken care of before.

He was no longer searching and curious like before. I tried to bring him those things he liked, picture books of small cartoony creatures and small plush toys. I even brought my old radio to play music and dance like we used to. The vines at first writhed with the beat, and even the corpse moved its head slightly in a sort of head bop, but those movements became less ordered and more spastic, to the point I couldn’t tell if he was even listening. With every passing day, he seemed to care less and less about those simple joys.

Instead, time was spent watching those vines extend further. They got into the cabinets and tipped over old beakers. It was like they were looking for something.

…

It was starting to get harder to leave the lab.

Vines slowly crept up the door until they were tightly wrapped around the handle. I pushed and pulled but it refused to budge. I resorted to leaving through the window. I was lucky the lab was on the first floor.

I don’t know why I kept coming back. The growing apprehension in the back of my mind screamed to get out. I could feel every base animal impulse squirm and scream in fear at what I was witnessing. I think I knew exactly what was happening– I didn’t study him for over a year for nothing after all.

But still– I kept coming back.

Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was a sense of duty, maybe I still held out hope for him, for the creature I had come to see as a son.

…

Two weeks later he didn’t allow me to leave anymore.

It had been a good day. He was walking around again, he even toyed with the small caterpillar toy I had brought. As I went to sit on the vine-covered floor he rested with me, the vines warm and pulsating with that strange purr he did. I had foolishly thought he was getting better, that he was still the same Moon as before.

I fell asleep.

When I woke up the room was pitch black. I realized he had covered the windows entirely with thick leathery vines.

I was trapped.

When I tried to push and pull at them he would snatch me up, move vines around the floor to trip me or grab a hand with one that was hanging.

The worst part about it was that he was still gentle about it.

He brought me food, vines shifting around the windows to reveal a scuffed takeout container. It looked like it had been snatched from a student, half-eaten, and a fork still rattling around inside.

When I went to sleep on the floor the vines would shift underneath to accommodate me, creating a surprisingly comfortable bed to rest on.

I hated it.

I wanted it to be easy. To hate this creature I helped make.

But as I wept in the now overrun lab, I couldn’t help but lean into the small vine gently touching my cheek.

The room was stuffy and humid. Like a greenhouse Moon covered every opening and crevice, and with the soft heat emitted from the vines– I couldn't cool down.

The clothes I arrived with were completely sweated through. They stuck to me and chaffed with an uncomfortable texture.

What I wouldn’t give for a decent shower.

Still, Moon continued just to bring food. Even with the occasional water bottle, I was starting to feel that dry scratchiness at the back of my throat. I was getting sick.

I wasn’t sure he was aware of all the different things a human needed to survive. I tried to talk with him, to get him to understand I needed to leave, but his numerous buds just stared back.

It was when the animals started appearing that I knew I needed to do something.

It again, started out small. Squirrels from outside, small mice and rats caught from other nearby labs– but of course it escalated.

Small dogs and cats that he used to be so fond of turned up dead on the floor. All covered in those same tightly woven vines. Their small bodies quickly turned into hollow corpses, frighteningly similar to Sun.

At this point, his corpse only sat in the corner, unmoving except for the subtle shifting of vines underneath him.

…

I had a plan. Cabinets on the top shelf of the bench stood untouched by vines– despite them completely covering every other surface.

It was where we stored our concentrated weed killer.

I had to do it. I knew I had to.

Despite the sharp ache in my chest at the thought- I knew that this was the only way.

Before when Sun was alive, the stuff was far too toxic to be used to cure him but now…

…

On the 29th day, I found a shoe amongst the tangled vines.

It wasn’t mine.

…

There were buds everywhere now. The dark pits held in the flytrap-like eyes followed my every move.

I had to be quick. I had seen myself how quickly those vines could dart through the air, and with how covered the room had become, there was no way to avoid them. However, they did close periodically. I wondered vaguely if this was a remnant of existing in a body that needed to sleep for so long. Even during these periods though, several buds remained open, watching me intently.

The shelves with the chemicals had always been too high for me. I wasn’t even gonna bother with the stool; it was probably buried under layers and layers of vines. I would need to stand on the counter to reach it.

It was on the 31st day that I made my move. Most of the buds were closed. I counted, and only a few near the floor still loomed wide and attentive.

I carefully made my way over to the shelf.

I moved slowly and with as much casual ease as I could muster. I couldn’t let him know what I was doing.

Thankfully the vines on the counters were not nearly as dense as the ones on the floor. There were small pockets of free space and if I could just get my feet in them, I could stand on the counter without alerting Moon.

I carefully lifted a foot. It was difficult. I had to essentially pull my weight using the leverage of only a very small portion of the counter.

I felt myself slip slightly, brushing against a vine.

I froze. The vine in question shifted slightly in response, changing the pattern of interlocking vines slightly.

Eventually, it stilled. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Finally, I was able to make my way to the top of the counter. The open spaces had shrunk considerably with the shifting, so I had to stand on just the tips of my toes.

I slowly pulled open the cabinets, careful to adjust my weight and hold onto the handle as it swung towards me.

It was in the back, carefully labeled with many warnings along the side. I slowly brought it out.

I grasped it carefully in my hands. A whole liter of the liquid filled the heavy jar.

I needed to inject it into him.

If I could just find a needle or make a small cut with something I could probably–

I felt a vine squeeze around my toe.

I lost balance.

I tried to grab onto something but my hands were still wrapped around the toxin tightly.

I felt myself fall backward onto the floor.

With a crack– I could feel the concoction shatter onto my chest.

The world was spinning. I felt sick.

I shakily lifted a blood-soaked hand.

The glass had cut me.

The vines surrounding me moved in a sudden flurry. I felt the vines underneath me retreat, leaving me on the cold empty ground, buds opened and sprouted to life as they swarmed above me.

The whole room was shifting and writhing.

I could feel my body react painfully to the toxin. Extreme nausea overwhelmed my senses and I had the sudden urge to empty my stomach.

Pain shot through every nerve as my eyelids felt heavier and heavier.

I was going to die.

I had failed.

Above, the eyes twisted and turned above me, creating a dizzying array of shapes and sounds.

I felt a small vine gently touch my open palm. I wondered vaguely if it was possible for a plant to feel grief– to mourn.

There was a moment of stillness. The pain subsided as the vine rested gently in my hand.

But eventually, I could feel the vine crawl further. Carefully avoiding the spill in the center, they wrapped around my body. I felt like one of those animals now, caught in a tight embrace.

The last thing I saw was Moon lifting a single bud to look at my face.

And then, it dug in.

#tw horror #tw animal death #tw blood #my writing #mad scientist au #moondrop #sundrop #fnaf daycare attendant #hopefully i didn't miss any typos #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #y/n

245 notes · View notes