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flemingsfreckles · 6 months

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Physio’s Daughter pt.2

Jessie Fleming x Physio!Reader

Preview: read Part 1, you continue to work with the Canadian team and your partnership with Jessie develops

Warning: some cursing I think, very very very minimal suggestion to sex

WC: 3.8k

A/N: this might be my new favorite story I’m writing (sorry all you Better Boyfriend fans)

The next week had gone by in a flash. Mark had called you, telling you the same things that your mom already had. He wanted to extend an offer to you to join the team, working as a student, for the summer and through the Olympics. He also mentioned that Jessie had spoken highly of you directly to him. Knowing how impressive having experience working for Team Canada would look to future jobs, you couldn’t turn down the offer.

Upon accepting you had started working everyday at the training facility, sometimes carpooling with your mom, picking her up from your childhood home and other days she would swing by your apartment and pick you up. Other days when she would have meetings or individual appointments you weren’t invited to, you’d drive separately.

On your first day Mark had sat you down in his office and asked you about your experience and what you were hoping to gain from your summer. You told him the more you could do the better, whatever he thought would be the best.

You honestly didn’t care too much about the jobs they gave you, as a student you expected to do the simple, more mundane work, making ice bags, organizing closets, restocking first aid kits. You expected to be more of an observer, stepping in only if extra hands were needed.

However much to your surprise, Mark had decided the opposite for you. After your meeting he had asked you to sit tight as he walked out and into the dressing room. He came back with a half dressed captain, Jessie only wearing her training shorts and actively throwing on a sweatshirt as she followed Mark back into the office.

“Oh, you’re back!” Jessie exclaimed when saw you sitting in Mark's office.

“She is.” Before you can answer for yourself Mark steps in. “And I want you two to work together. For one, Jessie we need to have your calf back to 100% before Paris, on top of that as captain, you need to be in the loop as far as what is going on with your teammates. That’s where you two are going to mingle.” His finger points between you and Jessie before he turns his attention to you.

“I want you to be fully responsible for working with Jessie on her calf. I think that will be a better use of your time, instead of throwing you 50 small tasks, take on one large one, do it right. Obviously if you need guidance, the rest of the team is here but I want you to take as much of the lead on it as possible.”

“Understood, I can do that.”

He turns to face Jessie. “Assuming you’re okay with that? You know your own body, if you have concerns or questions about her treatment plan, ask. She’s a student, we don’t expect her to be perfect, you’ll help her. I’m not making you a Guinea pig, you’re not a test subject, more of a learning experience. I mean that in the best way possible.”

“Of course, I feel good about that.” You feel relieved as Jessie agrees to his plan, you hadn’t had much time for the nerves around the responsibility of this job to build up too much but there were some doubts starting.

“As far as the stuff beyond your calf. I want Jessie to get updates on teammate’s, not details but just general ideas of who’s having more fatigue, who needs to be watched, any of those things that as captain she should know, you need to be informing her.” He’s now back looking at you.

“Yes sir, I can do that.”

“Perfect, then you’re both free to go.” He claps his hands together and then motions toward the door.

Jessie is the first one out, she holds the door open for you as you follow her into the main physio room. The rest of the room is empty, today was just a film and media day, most of the players not coming in for any treatments. The physio staff had found themselves elsewhere in the building. Behind you, your boss leaves his office, locking the door before tossing a pair of keys in your direction. He tells you it’s they keys to get in the building and the master key for anything in the training room, in the event you’re here before anyone else. You thank him and watch as he leaves, leaving you and Jessie alone.

You watch as Jessie wanders over to one of the tables, turning and with what seems like ease, pushing herself up and onto the table with her arms. She flops back laying fully down on the table and you can’t help but notice when she puts her arms behind her head her sweatshirt rides up, exposing the lower bit of her abdomen. Catching yourself staring for a second too long you turn away and walk over to the end of the table where her head was.

She has her eyes closed, hands resting behind her head, she looks peaceful. She must have been able to hear you move by her, she opens one eye, looking in your direction.

“Somehow, media day tires me out more than anything.” She goes back to having both eyes closed.

“Because you hate it.” You answer, you’re not sure if she was even asking for a reason but the silence felt uncomfortable and you wanted to fill it. Her eyes both open and she turns her head to look at you. Her eyebrows are pinched slightly as if she’s confused by your statement.

“You hate being in front of the camera right? You probably work yourself up over it, whether you know it or not. It’s probably more stressful on you mentally than playing is.”

“Wow no one told me you were going to school to be an emotional therapist too.” You can practically feel sarcasm dripping off her sentence. She rolls her eyes at you and for a second you feel like an idiot, she obviously knew she hated being in front of the camera, you didn’t need to tell her.

Jessie moves to flip over, propping her head up on her hands. Her smile is big across her face. She reaches an arm out and swats at you, hitting just above your thigh that was at her eye level as you stood at the end of the bed.

“I’m joking, loosen up. If you stay this nervous all summer you’re going to hate it here.”

You knew she was right, being uptight was not going to make anything easier or any part of coming to work fun. But knowing she was right and actually trying to lessen your nerves were two different things.

It took time but by the end of your second week you were feeling more comfortable, slightly confident in the choices you were making, you felt familiar with the staff and all the players, it was becoming more fun.

You and Jessie had fallen into an easy routine. You’d both get to the training facility earlier than everyone, you’d both sit down in your makeshift office and go through paperwork. You’d take the time to run her through each of her teammates, giving her the information that Mark had requested she get as captain. Sometimes there were only a handful of updates to give her and the two of you would end up sitting around chatting.

When her teammates began to arrive you’d make your way into the training room, Jessie would get changed and come back to start treatment on her leg. You’d run her through exercises, stretches, regimes for icing, all the necessary recovery steps for her leg. You’d still run around, occasionally helping the rest of the players, taping, rolling, massaging, but you always came back to check on Jessie. You didn’t think much of it, the time you were spending together, if anything it was more of a requirement for the two of you to spend time together, not a choice.

During training Jessie would check in during water breaks, you weren’t sure that was required but she always found her way over to you, chatting for a minute, usually starting with an update on how she was playing but sometimes just telling you other information, what she had for dinner, the color of the puppy she saw on her way in, small details about her life, before she’d have to go back out.

The more you talked with her the more your silly little young school girl crush came back. Only by this time it was full force attraction, more than just a crush. You were confused how everyone who talked with her wasn’t in love with her. She was kind. It was a simple way to describe her and definitely didn’t do her justice but she was, at the end of the day she was kind and good natured and it drove you crazy.

She was always quick to help you find something in the training room, quick to offer you an extra jacket if she saw you were cold watching training, first one to offer to carry any equipment to and from the field. It was her small gestures that stood out so much.

After training you had a similar routine, helping her, and other players with their recovery. Talking with Jessie about her calf, offering various treatment options to her and letting her guide you. You’d finish your treatment with her and unlike most players who would hurry out of the training room in a rush to get home, she’d stay around talking, offering to help clean or just sitting around. She’d stay until most of the staff had begun to go home and Mark would usually tell her to get out.

It wasn’t long before others took notice of the partnership the two of you had developed.

After a late night at the facility, your Mom began poking at the subject on the ride home.

“How’s it going with Jessie?”

“She’s good, calf is still giving her tightness but it’s less frequent than before, I think she’ll be playing full 90’ before the end of camp.” You think nothing of her question, assuming she’s asking about how her recovery is coming along given the Olympics were coming up quickly.

“She sure does hang around you a lot.” You start to hear the accusatory tone in her voice.

“She’s required to, Mark told both of us we have to work together.”

“I’m pretty sure staying late everyday, to do nothing but sit around with you, wasn’t in the requirements, or the extra chats during water breaks.” She looks over at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Usually she’s giving me updates on her leg.” Defending her behavior to your Mom, it wasn’t really your fault Jessie came over to talk during practice.

“Don’t lie to me, you two were talking about the new pasta place down the road today.”

You don’t say anything back to her, just staring as she glances between the road and back to you.

“Look, I’m saying this as someone superior to you at work, I just think you need to be careful. This is a job, you’re responsible for her health. You can’t be messing around, she’s a coworker. You don’t want to appear unprofessional.”

As if her scolding wasn't enough, she adds, “As your mom, I have to say, she’s 4 years older than you. She’s as close to 30 as you are 18. You’re still a student, she has her career figured out, you’re only just starting yours. Not to mention it’s usually not a good idea to sleep with someone you work with, it makes things complicated.”

“Mom! I’m not sleeping with her.” Your voice is raised, and you feel your cheeks start to burn at your Mom’s suggestion. It’s a mix of anger and embarrassment, mainly from the fact that she would accuse you of sleeping with Jessie, that’s not fair to you or to her.

This is what you hated about working with your Mom, she would still be your Mom at the end of the day. You knew she kept a close eye on you, closer than Mark, closer than any of the other staff, she watched you like a hawk, all day everyday.

“There’s nothing going on.” You add, “She has no interest, it’s work for both of us.” You were thankful when your mom pulled into the driveway to your apartment complex.

“Just take a second to consider what other people might think. You don’t need to have a bad reputation this early in your career because of a fling.” The way she was talking to you felt like you were back in high school and she had caught you sneaking beers to take to a friend's house. It was a voice of concern mixed with a hint of disappointment.

“I already told you, nothing is happening. I don’t need a ride tomorrow, I can take myself.” You tell your mom as you exit the car, closing the door behind you a bit harder than you should.

When you get inside you let your bag hit the ground hard. Frustration from your mom’s comments is still running through your veins. You move to the kitchen, grabbing leftovers out of the fridge and throwing them in the microwave for a minute.

As you eat you think about work, you had to meet with Jessie tomorrow morning but you decide after that you were going to prove to your mom there was nothing going on. You were going to distance yourself, give Jessie the same treatment as everyone else.

That’s what you do, for the next few days you still meet with Jessie in the morning, giving her updates but kicking her out of the office once your professional talks are over. Jessie seemed a bit confused the first few days as you pulled away more and more from her but she never mentioned it to you. You’d finish her recovery treatments and then head into your office which was more of a closet made into a temporary office. You would claim you had paperwork to do and then end up just staring at the blank computer in front of you, wishing you could be having a mindless conversation with her about dogs or bikes or travel spots. Jessie had numerous stories from traveling with Chelsea that you loved hearing about, with every story she told you, you added a travel destination to your bucket list.

You kept up with distancing yourself, somewhat grateful that the international window was coming to a close while you still would have to go to work, Jessie wouldn’t be there forcing you to avoid her.

It was the second to last day of the international window and you were getting started on morning treatments before the friendly match the team had later that afternoon. You had given Jessie her heat pack, not sticking around to talk with her but moving over to where Janine was sitting on the table chatting with some of the other girls.

“Waiting to get your knee taped?” You ask, offering to do it for her.

“Yeah that would be great.” You move to grab tape and adhesive spray. You zone out of the conversations being had around you as you get to work, you’d see how Janine’s knee was taped everyday so it was an easy task to do but not completely a habit you had to use some focus.

“You’re only saying that Jess because it’s the most recent coffee you’ve had.” You zone back into the conversation hearing Janine mention Jessie.

“What about you?” Janine kicks her leg slightly, indicating she was talking to you.

“Sorry, what?” You hadn’t heard what the question was, too zoned out in your own thoughts.

“What’s your go-to coffee order?”

“Oh, usually a cold brew, sometimes I’ll add caramel or raspberry syrup, nothing too crazy.” You answer as you finish up taping her knee. “You’re all set.” You pat her knee and she hops up off the table, thanking you and heading out the door.

You turn and see Jessie putting away her heat pack, something you usually did for her. She gives you a glance, a blank expression on her face as she moves to grab the ball to roll out. As her teammates all filter out, it’s just you and Jessie left in the training room as the rest of the staff followed out to set up for the match. She hadn’t said much to you all day and something felt off, you attempted to make conversation with her.

“Are you looking forward to being back in Portland?”

“Yeah, sort of, I always miss the people here, Portland is all still so new, not quite home yet. Plus the training staff there isn’t nearly as fun, you won’t be-”

“Hey if you’re not doing anything besides chatting, come help set up.” Your Mom’s voice comes from across the room, her head stuck through the door.

Of course she walked in now, not when you were helping Beckie, not when you had been filling water bottles, not when you had been talking to Julia about ankle taping, not when you were having a friendly chat with Quinn, not when you were helping the other staff refill first aid kits. Of course she walked in when it was just you and Jessie, not helping her accusations from last week.

“Coming.” You turn away from Jessie and follow your mom out. As you follow down the hallway she looks back at you. She doesn’t say anything but her glare is enough to keep you from trying to defend what she saw.

The friendly was easy, no injuries, no issues, Canada taking the win 3-1. Jessie was able to get back into playing a full 90’ which while you tried not to show it, you felt proud of. You were proud of your own work, being able to get her back with your help but also proud of Jessie for working through her injury. Thankfully since she was playing the full 90’ there was no time for her to chat with you on the bench, much to your Mom’s relief. You had finished up the evening working with some of the team on stretching and helping them plan for their few weeks back at their club teams. It wasn’t difficult work but it had kept you late at the stadium, leading to a rough start to your next morning.

You were sitting at your desk early at 5am, head resting against your hands, you were exhausted, the game ending late last night, staying to finish up recovery and cleaning up took a toll on your sleep already. What also didn’t help was lying in bed thinking about Jessie. She had felt cold today, she didn’t come to talk to you during halftime, she didn’t ask for extra help during recovery like she normally did. You knew it was your fault, well your Mom’s fault for her comments, but you were the one who pulled back from her first. You felt bad, pulling away from her but it’s what seemed to be the right thing.

“Hey.” A knock on your door frame pulls you from your exhausted brain fog. You look up to see Jessie much to your surprise, you hadn’t planned any of the players to be in this morning. They only had to be in later for film and to wrap up the camp before everyone went back to their clubs for a few weeks before the Olympic period began.

“Can I?” She pointed to the chair she usually would sit in.

“Of course.” You gesture to the chair across from you and Jessie walks in, two coffees in her hands. She places them both on the table before sliding one across the desk to you.

“What’s this for?”

“You.” She takes a sip from her own coffee. You take a look at the handwriting on the cup, labeling your drink as a cold brew with raspberry. You look up at Jessie questioning how she got your order.

“You mentioned your coffee order to Janine yesterday.” She says with a shrug as if you had directly told her your order and she hadn’t been listening into your conversation.

“You didn’t have to get me a coffee Jessie.” You take a sip of it anyway, you weren’t one to turn down caffeine especially after a long night.

“Well it’s more of an excuse to talk to you. I wanted to see what’s been going on.”

“Nothing new really, especially going into the break, no new injuries or anything from last night so no real updates, everyone’s doing well-”

“That’s not what I meant.” She cuts you off. “Sorry to interrupt, it's just I meant why it feels like you’re hiding from me?”

“Oh. Um.” You spin the coffee cup between your hands, looking down at it. You didn’t want to have to explain to her that your Mom is concerned you have a crush.

“If I did something, I’m sorry, I can fix-”

“You didn’t do anything.” You let out a sigh, there’s no way you were going to get out of talking with Jessie. You didn’t want to have to explain it to her, but you also didn’t want her sitting around thinking she did something wrong.

“It’s more my Mom, as embarrassing as that is to admit.” You pinch your eyes shut, feeling shy that you’re admitting that as a 22 year old, your Mom got into your head and made you change your behavior.

“Your Mom?” Jessie seems surprised, she definitely wasn’t expecting your Mom to be involved.

“She made some comments to me, she thought our relationship was becoming unprofessional. She even accused me, well us, of sleeping together.” You explain your behavior, you regret mentioning the sleeping together part as soon as it comes out of your mouth. You keep staring at the coffee in your hands, too nervous to look up and see Jessie’s reaction.

“Oh.” Jessie doesn’t say anything else.

“I obviously told her it wasn’t anything besides professional. We were just working, but her words got in my head so I figured the easiest way was to take a step back.”

“Oh come on!?” You could see her throw her hands up in your peripheral vision.

“What?” You lifted your head to look at her. You weren’t sure why she seemed to be annoyed with you.

“Am I really that bad of a flirt that you thought all those conversations we had were strictly professional?”

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #woso imagine #woso x reader

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lis-likes-fics · 9 months

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Lab Rats

Pairings: professor!Jonathan Crane x student!Reader Word Count: 8.2k words Prompt: Sex Pollen Warnings: NSFW, smut, dubcon, professor/student relationship, sex pollen, oral (m!receving), fingering, edging, multiple orgasms, dumbification, name calling, degradation, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie... A/N: This is a day late, but I got it done! I hope you enjoy this filthy piece. Dr. Crane is so much fun to write for!

The call of your name stalled you from packing the rest of your items, your fingers tingling and your ears burning at the sound of your name breaching his lips.

“Could you stay after class, please?” Professor Crane asked, looking upon you with a set smile.

You remained calm. He would read any unnecessary excitement in the way you breathed.

You nodded, trying to sink back into the rest of the class, packing their bags to leave. You pulled the zipper of your bag closed. When enough people left the room, you made your way to the front with your bag on your person.

You had taken a certain fascination with Dr. Jonathan Crane the first moment you stepped into his class. He was handsome and charming, he knew how to teach and he always managed to pull you in.

He wasn't soft on anyone, even his favorite student usually didn't receive much special treatment. On the first day of classes, he told everyone that 50% of the class would be walking out of the door by the end of the week, and he was right. Better for you, that just meant less people to steal his attention away, less competition when it came to acing his tests and projects.

You loved his class, not just for the topic—obviously. Over the past couple of weeks, you felt his shift. His usual objectivity had switched and he seemed to point you out a little more. He praised your work, he accepted all of your input in class, he would even email you personally (sometimes talk to you after class) on your work to tell you how well you were doing.

You knew your attraction toward him would never amount to anything, it would never work out. But your fantasy was enough to quench your hunger for his attention and affection.

“Yes, sir?” you asked as you walked up to him.

Crane smiled at you. “I have a few matters I would like to speak with you privately… Could you spare the time?”

The strength of your heartbeat was extra hard for a few moments as you took in his words. You nod, “Of course, professor.”

“Step into my office?” he asked, gesturing toward the door with his name on it.

You took the first step, walking toward the door as he followed behind. You were suddenly very self-conscious of the way that you walked as you opened the door.

He moved around you when you were both inside, allowing you to shut the door as he took his spot in front of his desk. He leaned back on it, crossing his legs at the ankles and putting his hands in his pockets.

You knew this one. He was presenting his body language to seem more relaxed in order to ease you from your guard so he could properly manipulate you into agreeing with whatever he said.

He sighed, taking a moment to look upon you. “I would like you to know that I admire you and your work greatly,” he began, “and this is what allows me to ask this of you so freely.”

You blinked, anticipating his offer. “Yes, professor?”

He smiled, almost slyly. “I am conducting an experiment of sorts, a scientific breakthrough that I would like you to be the face of.”

You stared at him, your eyes wider than you meant for them to be as you slowly recovered. “I… Me?”

He nodded. “As part of a selection of students.”

Your heart sunk slightly at that. One of a group, but his first choice, at least…

“Oh,” you nodded. “Alright, uhm… Why—What, uh…” You reprimanded yourself for your lack of eloquence. “What is the experiment? What kind is it?”

“Unfortunately,” he breathed in deep, letting out a long sigh, “that must be kept a secret until I come to a close. It's not quite done—a few last minute tweaks need to be made…” He looked off slightly, thinking to himself for a split second. His attention turned back to you, looking at you a little closer, bringing you in.

He spoke slowly, leaning off the desk to stand. He moved a little closer, and you felt his hand brush your elbow. “But I would like to know that you would be willing to drop everything at a moment’s notice when I do contact you for it.”

He took another step forward, closer now to you. You knew this one, too. He was making it personal, making you compliant. You knew this trick, it was Psychology 101.

But it worked anyway.

“Oh,” you licked your bottom lip: your own trick. “Okay.”

He smiled, raising his brows, “Yes?” he nodded.

You returned the nod. “Yes, sir,” you smiled. “I…would be honored to.”

He held your eye contact, not letting go as he nodded. “Excellent!” he exclaimed gently. He leaned in a little, close to your face, too close for a professor talking to his student. “You really are my greatest student.”

You smiled, perhaps too much. You feel too giggly. “I'm…so glad.”

He moved his hand from your elbow to raise a finger, shaking it gently at you. “Remember,” he teased, “at a moment’s notice.”

You nodded definitely. “Of course.”

He offered you a charming smile before stepping out of your space, breaking the spell. He tilted his head toward you. “You may go.” Just as you were lifting your foot, he held out a hand toward you. “And thank you very much.”

With one last nod, you stepped back. “Not a problem, sir.”

You stepped out of his office, closing the door gently behind you. Gently biting your lip, you unsilenced your phone as you left his classroom.

The shrill ring of your phone cut through the late night and woke you brutally from your slumber. You gasped as you reluctantly blinked through the dark to direct your eyes to the abusive light emanating from the phone. The clock next to it on the nightstand read far past midnight. You moaned deeply, speaking but only forming actual words toward the middle of your complaint.

“...’f i’s ‘nother sp’m…” You wiped your face and covered your eyes as you answered the phone, not quite awake but too tired to deal with waking up.

“Hullo?”

The voice on the other end woke you up just a little more, not quite clearing the fog in your brain but allowing you to put more effort into sounding a little more awake.

“It's time.”

Time for wh—Oh.

You suddenly remembered Dr. Crane's experiment, the one he wanted to test with you. Your gut clenched and your heart picked up and startled you awake. It was time.

“Oh.”

You pressed your finger into the doorbell, checking the address of Dr. Crane's house out of nerves a fifth time and the time for the twentieth. You wrapped your coat tighter around you, the chilly breeze persuaded by the winter air of Gotham so close to Christmas time. They would be letting you out for the break soon…

The door opened, a little crack and a creak to allow you entry.

“Just go along with whatever happens.”

You thought back to his instructions on the phone, vague instructions you briefly considered not trusting. But he was your professor. He had your best interests at heart, surely.

You reached your hand toward the knob, timidly reaching. He wasn't at the door. Should you actually go in?

“Don't waste time asking questions. Everything will be explained when you get there.”

You pushed the door open and walked inside, shucking your coat off as you nervously looked around the house. You shut the door behind you, hanging your coat on the rack by the entrance and leaving your shoes next to the ones by the door.

You swallowed thickly as you looked around, stepping further inside. “Uhm…” you cleared your throat. “Dr. Crane? Are you still home?”

You were met with silence as you continued to quietly step through the living room, the air so still that you could feel your heart beating heavily in your chest. You were so nervous, your blood was pumping and you were bordering on scared as you tried to keep your breath level. Your flesh raised with goosebumps. It was too quiet.

You almost didn't want to speak again, afraid to break the silence and disturb something unknown lurking around the corner.

“Dr. Crane?” you called again, suddenly feeling very warm and very frightened. Where was he? “Professor?”

“In here.”

The voice was distant when he spoke, giving you some reprieve from the silence but feeding your anxiety, fueling your fight-or-flight.

“Where?” you wondered aloud, stepping past the archway that led into the hall.

“Just a few steps more…”

Could he see you? Was he taunting you on purpose? Perhaps part of the experiment?

The anxiety curled in your stomach, kept your footsteps slow and your breath shallow and a scream ready in your throat in case you needed it.

You were reluctant to speak. “Sir?” You pressed your palm along the wall of the hall and began to peer around the corner, into a room on the left. Maybe Dr. Crane was waiting there…

A strange, strong mist invaded your senses as you turned the corner. Raring up the scream, you gasped and your eyes stung, resulting in a heavy cough that took a moment to die down. You braced yourself on the wall, holding yourself up as you tried to clear your eyes, clouded by tears from both the coughing and the mist burning your eyes. You watched the mist clear, breathing in desperately for air.

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” Dr. Crane's voice came, then his hands on your shoulders as he pulled you in and guided you into the room. “That's good,” he bid.

He held you steady as you blinked rapidly and steadied your breath. “I took the liberty of testing my hypothesis that it would work faster if the patient is already running on adrenaline.”

You wiped the tears roughly from your eyes. “Professor, what–?”

“Hush,” he cut you off, bringing you to the bed. “Sit here,” he said, lowering you down.

He pulled up a chair, sitting across from you before handing you a handkerchief. You took it greedily and began wiping your face. You sighed deeply into the fabric, holding your head in your hands as you adjusted.

“Okay,” he said, smiling. “Now that's done…the substance you've just inhaled is an aphrodisiac of my own design.”

You stilled entirely, looking up at him tentatively as your eyes widened. You blinked, shaking your head as you tried to organize your thoughts. It was an… an—“Aphrodisiac…” you muttered.

“Yes,” he nodded. “Aphrodisiac.”

You were suddenly dizzy, processing his words too slowly as you put together what this meant. An experiment with an aphrodisiac… and you were the “face” of it all?

“The word itself comes from the Greek name ‘Aphrodite’, which—I'm sure you know—is the Greek goddess of Sex.” You looked up at him as he began explaining, rolling up the sleeves of his white button down and dusting off his black slacks. Adjusting his glasses on his nose, he continued, “As far as the function of the substance is concerned, it affects hormone levels and accelerates blood flood, increasing chemicals in your brain like—dopamine, glutamic acid, nitric oxide, oxytocin to enhance sexual arousal.” He sounded like he was reading straight out of a book as he spoke with his hands, illustrating the drug to you to paint pretty pictures for you to apply to what was happening to you, in your own body.

It was getting warm, the physical exertion from the adrenaline, likely. The suspense and anxiety from before, along with the shock of Dr. Crane's mist had thrust you into an adrenaline rush. That was surely all it was.

“It relaxes smooth muscles,” he continued. “Stimulates erections, increases arousal.”

You fought the urge to clench your thighs at the idea of it. He was your psych professor and you were his student, and he was testing aphrodisiacs on you and telling you how it made boners and stiff nipples and fucking arousal.

“Professor,” you muttered.

He stopped you, raising a finger. “Please hold. I'm not finished.” He cleared his throat and thought for a moment. “Where was I? Aphrodisiacs are commonly found in natural foods or herbs, though the change in sexual desire is usually unnoticed when these substances—like chocolates, most commonly, or oysters and figs and strawberries—are consumed.”

You clenched the handkerchief in your hand, rubbing your palms against your thighs roughly. “Professor Crane.” You felt like your head was beginning to spin.

He sighed at you, seemingly disappointed. “I hope you're interrupting me for a good reason.”

You stared at him straight on, nearly glaring as a thin layer of sweat began to form over your skin. “It's hot,” you huffed.

“Well, that's to be expected,” he shrugged. He looked you up and down, smiling with a gentle chuckle. “How rude of me. How are you feeling?”

You brought the handkerchief to your forehead, breathing uneasily. “Hot.”

“As you've already stated.” He waved his hand dismissively. “What else?”

You didn't want to say: considering the heat was spreading through your body and scouring your nerves with a flush of lust. The last thing you wanted to do was explain that you were horny to your professor.

He tilted his head at your hesitation, noticing the way you turned away, closed yourself off. He raised a brow. “Come on,” he bid. He didn't sound like he was encouraging you, he sounded like he was taunting you. “Don't leave any details. This is an experiment, might I remind you. If you leave anything out, it could hinder the research.”

“Um,” you struggled, your voice trembling a little. You felt like your whole body would soon follow suit. You felt shaky, like you’d fall if you tried to stand. “Uh.” You couldn’t figure out what to say—it was humiliating to say the least, looking at your professor and forcing your eyes to stay on his face, because fuck…you wanted him so bad.

He raised a brow, waiting expectantly, “Well?”

You couldn’t. “I don’t know,” you muttered. “It’s just hot.”

He reached his hand out and pressed the back of his palm to your forehead. The coolness of his skin against the heat of your face was like a salve to a cruel burn. You leaned into him, stifling your moan as best you could as your eyes fluttered at the contact. It felt so good.

“Mm,” he hummed, pretending not to notice your weakness as he shifted his hand to your temple. “You’re burning up.” You knew he was taunting you when his hand slipped down to your neck, pressing against your scorching skin and sending goosebumps through your body. Your heart felt like it would leap out of your chest any time soon.

When he pulled his hand away, you felt like you could die on the spot as the fever-like heat came back immediately after. You tried to remain impartial, shaking your head to gather your thoughts enough to speak.

“Why couldn’t you have just performed the experiment on your own?” you questioned, wiping your forehead roughly to be rid of the light sheen of sweat coating your skin. “I don’t see how an external test subject was necessary.” Remaining as professional as possible seemed like your best course of action. Insanity or not, this was still a test—you were sure of it—and there was no way you would fail a personal test with Professor Crane and risk falling from such high esteem with him.

He reached behind him where his suit jacket lay neatly on the back of his seat. He removed a second handkerchief from an inside pocket with a dramatic whip, taking his glasses off to clean them as he shook his head. “No, no, no,” he said. “If my theory is correct, the test must be performed with another person present. The substance works by increasing adrenaline. It’s quite similar to my fear toxin.”

You shook your head, “Fear toxin–”

“The adrenaline builds and builds,” he continued, cutting you off with little regard for you, as he glanced through the lenses, “increases the heart rate so much that—if left unresolved—the subject would experience a heart rate so high…” He finished polishing them off before replacing his glasses on the bridge of his nose and directing his analytical gaze toward you once more. With a lurking smile full of sadistic amusement, he spoke in a low voice, “...your little heart would burst in your chest.”

The anxiety curled in your chest until it began its fast evolution to fear. All these emotions mixing within you wasn’t good for your health—and, apparently, neither was this toxin he had infected you with. “...What?” you said. It was the only thing you could manage to say.

He shrugged, tilting his head with a slight roll of his eyes. “Well,” he began to correct himself, “not literally, of course. It’s highly improbable. But your heart would just…stop.” His eyes seemed to darken as he explained it to you, staring too deeply into your own anxious gaze as he seemed to enjoy every minute of this. With a breath, he began again. “And while my toxin has an antidote, there is only one way to reverse the effects of this aphrodisiac.”

You swallowed thickly. “Which is?”

He smirked, though he tried to hide it. “Sexual gratification.”

If you weren’t burning up, your blood would run cold…and then you’d run just as hot as you were running now. Your head was definitely spinning now, images of forbidden desires—which you had pushed down, down to the depths of your mind—flooding to the surface. So many fantasies, so many urges, being unlocked once more as you thought about…reversing the effects.

But, for the millionth time, he was your professor. It didn’t matter how many times you’d fantasized about him having you on your knees, his hands in your hair, his lips all over your body…it couldn’t happen. It shouldn’t happen.

You tried not to clear your throat. It would make you more guilty than you already were. “W-well–” Damn it, you cringed. “–even if that’s true…gratification can be…achieved through…”

He raised a brow, happy to mock you. “Through?”

You took in a steadying breath, looking down at your legs to avoid looking up at him. Your skin was burning, your nerves were tingling with an increasing desire “Through self-pleasure. Masturbation. Couldn’t it?” You were already this far, there was no use in being shy.

But even then…

He tilted his head, sighing. “Unfortunately, no,” he said. “You see, once it has been ingested in any form, only another person's hormones can slow the process—which is why you’re still so in control right now–” you didn’t feel in control, “–but even that isn’t enough. In males, sexual gratification can only be achieved by the release of semen when mixed with a woman’s arousal. Likewise, for a female subject, gratification can only be met through insemination.”

He said it so quickly, so nonchalantly. You had no time to process as you blinked rapidly. “Insem–”

“Therefore, a partner is necessary for the experiment, and only a partner of the opposite sex is truly effective, so…I suppose that’s a loss for the homosexuals, hm?” He shrugged, amused by his own joke.

Pain spasmed in your stomach, a sharp stab in your gut and a stinging sensitivity to everything your skin came in contact with. “Fuck,” you sighed, folding over slightly just as a growing migraine became present enough to matter.

He sighed. “Language, please.”

You rubbed your palms harshly against your eyes, forcing your fingertips against your temple in a useless attempt to ease the pain roaring in your head, sacrificing the stabbing in your gut. “It hurts.” It took everything not to sob.

He turned his head. “What kind of pain?”

“All of the above,” you said impatiently, your voice breaking. “It hurts.”

He hummed and leaned forward. “And where does it hurt the most?” He gestured to your general body. “Or is it just about the same everywhere?”

“It's…” you hesitated, “everywhere.”

Crane tilted his head, looking at you with a glow of disappointment. He removed his glasses with a sigh, setting them to the side and directing his attention entirely on you.

“Now, my dear,” you shuddered at the name, “This doesn't work if you aren't being completely and entirely honest with me. I am quite content to sit here and watch you succumb to my little toxin.” A wash of shock overtook you, your palpitating conflicted between beating too fast and stopping all together.

He continued, a taunting grin curving his lips as he gave you his cold stare. “Without me to help you,” he shrugged, “you have no way of reversing the effects. I'll say you came down with a sudden fever, one you just couldn't fight.”

The hair along your arms stood tall. He couldn't be serious, it was a joke… But when have you known Jonathan Crane to joke?

“But…” you fumbled, trying to decide what to say, “But I've been perfectly healthy. Why would people believe you?”

He tilted his head, looking at you like you were just the cutest, dumbest little thing. “This is Gotham, sweetheart.” He shrugged dismissively. “People die every day, and no one fucking cares.”

Breathing heavily, you put a hand over your stomach and let out a pained moan. You thought to yourself, over his words. You shook your head, not meeting his eyes.

“Cramps.”

He raised a brow questioningly. “Hm?”

“The pain,” you stated. “Stomach cramps, tender nipples and…and clitoris. Even the fabric of my clothes is too much. It hurts.” You ignored the heat in your face. It didn't matter now—the insecurity, the awkwardness. It was strictly scientific. Of course, it was.

“Very good,” he grinned, leaning back and crossing his legs. “Tell me more.”

“Tunnel vision, dizziness, migraine, short breath. It's like… it's almost like a panic attack.”

“Is that all?”

“It's really hot,” you huffed, another pained moan escaping through your unsteady breaths. “I'm really hot.” It didn't matter. “Fuck, professor, I need you.”

“What's that?” The fucker was getting off on teasing you like this, mocking you like it was his only pleasure in life.

“I need you,” you urged, trying not to sound as whiny as you feel.

“Is that so?” he raised a brow, smirking. “Have you told me everything then?”

“Yes, everything. Please.”

“Are you certain?” he pushed.

You felt the wet on your cheek and realized your need and the pain had reached your eyes, the tears welling along your waterline and dropping down in one streak down your face. “Please, I'll do anything!”

He paused slightly. “What's that?”

You reached out and grabbed his hands, pulling them into your lap. There was only one way to ease the pain, the heat, the desire. And you were set on it.

“I'll do anything! Just please, fuck me. Please,” you gasped, pushing through the pounding in your head and the fire in your core.

“Well,” he sighed, pulling his hand from your grasp to check his watch. He tsked to himself, thinking before he hummed. “I suppose I can do that.”

You could have cried—you were crying. “Thank you,” you sighed. “Thank you.”

“But,” he pointed a finger at your face, as though you were a dog being disciplined, “you must do as I say.”

You nodded urgently. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” You shuddered at his words, the praise washing over you like a wave swallowing you whole as you lay on the sandy shore of a beach.

He snapped at you, indefinitely grabbing your attention as he pointed to the space in front of him. You stood from the bed in a moment, your weak legs barely holding you up.

His hands landed on your waist, and you nearly melted at the contact. He turned you around in his hands, looking you up and down with an appreciative moan. “Let's see what we're working with,” he said. “Strip.” The order was plain and simple.

You did as you were told, trying not to be shy about it. He didn't care about shyness, and it didn't matter anyway.

You began peeling your clothes off, moving faster with each inch of skin revealed. Once you were bare in front of him, you fought the overwhelming urge to cover yourself. He wanted to see you, to see what you had to offer.

He hummed to himself, snapping again. “On your knees.” Again, you did as you were told.

Moving to your knees, he took your face in his large hands. You melted against him, your eyes fluttering shut as a deep moan escaped you. His hands felt so cool in comparison to your burning skin. If you weren't so desperate for more of what he had to offer, you would be perfectly content with sitting here and having him hold you like this.

When his hands lightly smacked your cheeks, your eyes snapped open as you brought yourself out of the sticky feeling of the subtle pleasure. “Keep your eyes open. And open your mouth.”

You parted your lips, and he slipped his thumb between them and pried your mouth open wide. He set his thumb on your tongue, pulling it over your bottom set of teeth and pushing his thumb farther into your mouth. Your breaths blew over his skin as he felt the softness of your cheeks, your tongue.

He surprised you when his hand was suddenly between your thighs, his fingers stroking through your folds as you gasped. “Jesus, you're fucking dripping.” He ran his fingers along your lower lips and the insides of your thighs where the arousal was smothered halfway down your thighs.

You whimpered and whined when he shoved his middle and ring fingers inside of you without warning, delving them into your hot, dripping, tight pussy. You tried not to squirm at the way his fingers wiggled inside you.

“Yes,” he sighed. “This'll do nicely.”

He pulled them out of you, shoving those same fingers between your lips to make you taste your arousal. “Suck,” he commanded. You obeyed.

You suckled around his fingers and felt another rush of molten arousal wash through you at the way he stares at you, his eyes dark and primal. You needed him.

“Strip me,” he said, pulling his hand away. From your knees, you unbuttoned his shirt and removed it, letting your hands press against the expanse of his chest and soothe you the slightest bit. You unbuckled his best and shoved his pants down his legs, removed it from his body like undoing ropes tying him to a chair.

You stared at his briefs, his half-hard erection tenting them as he enjoyed the sight of your mindless struggling. He placed a hand in your hair, gripping a fistful and holding you securely. “Now be a good girl and suck my cock.”

You pulled his boxers down without hesitation and only faltered as you saw him for the first time. This was absurd. You never thought you'd find yourself in this situation—staring at your professor’s erection, long and hard and flushed with his own lust for your body, about to wrap your lips around it.

You gripped him in your hand and he stifled a grunt at the feeling of your insistence. You stroked him a few times before sticking your tongue out and licking a long strip up the underside of his cock, tasting his precum beading at the tip and immediately becoming addicted to the taste. Whether it was him or just his toxin, the taste of him was mesmerizing, and you would do anything for more.

You wrapped your lips around him, suckling around the tip and taking him deeper. He let his head fall back just a bit, still watching you as his thighs clenched and his hair gripped your hair tighter. He did not guide you or push you down, he didn't think he needed to. You surprised him as you bobbed your head up and down his cock, taking him farther and farther down with each trip back and forth until he was filling your throat with his length and making you gag.

He grunted as you suckled some more. Your cunt clenched around nothing, aching for any kind of pressure as your clit pulsed and your walls fluttered. You ran a hand down your body, dipping between your thighs to try and ease some of the tension. You pressed down hard on your clit one time, a moan coming from your throat and shivering through his spine.

He pulled you by your hair off of his cock. “Did I say you could touch yourself, sweetheart?” You shook your head pathetically. “Then why are you doing it?”

You couldn't win this, you knew that. Using your desperation as regret, you frowned and whispered, “Sorry, sir.”

He loosened his grip enough to let you get back to work, still holding onto you as he leaned back again. Your lips found his cock once more, addicted and able to ignore the burn for now, a short escape from the pain.

You swirled your tongue around him, suckling as you went along. Crane stared at you with a dark gaze as you sucked him off. You flattened your tongue against him, going farther down his length with each swallow around his tip. Sticky white precum continued to seep from his slit and onto your tongue. You were drunk on the taste of him, taking him as best you could.

Crane looked like a dream, his head tilted back and his lips parted as you brought him closer and closer to a great release. Both his hands were tangled in your hair by now, holding on to you and his remaining control.

He was right about the hormones. Being this close to him, inhaling the scent of his cologne, the scent of his skin swirling around your head, was easing the searing desperation.

You felt him twitching on your tongue and suckled around him a little more. He was close, you could feel it. You didn't know if it was his toxin or not, but the idea of him spilling all over your tongue drove you crazy with lust.

He began to tense and groaned. “And that's enough of that,” he huffed, pulling you off of him by your hair and keeping you back, even through your attempts at licking the precum spilling from his tip.

“My, my,” he breathed. “Such a desperate little thing.”

You caught your breath as you spoke, your lips swollen and your eyes hooded as you did. “I need you,” you begged, gripping his thighs tight.

“Well,” he stood, snapping and gesturing for you to stand as well—you obeyed. “You'll have to be patient, sweetheart. I'm not through with my tests yet.” You whined. “Lay down.”

You did as told once again. He looked over your body, running a finger down the center of you, from your collarbone to your pelvis. You shuddered and whimpered but said nothing.

“I don't have any cuffs in here, so a tie will have to work.” He found his jacket draped along the back of his chair and pulled the tie neatly tucked inside of it out.

You held your breath as he reached for your hands, grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head. He put them around the bars of the headboard and, with more skill than you expected, tied them together to keep you bound there.

He gave a content sigh at the sight of you, smiling to himself. His eyes found yours as his fingertips grazed your side “Now, you can be as loud as you want. No need to hold back. We're all alone in here.”

He stood over you as his palm smoothed along your skin, reaching further down until he found your mound, slick and hot and waiting for something to slip inside it.

Your breath quickened in anticipation, waiting for him to make his move as his fingers played with your skin. Holding eye contact, he slipped his finger inside of you, parting your folds and burying itself in deep.

Your head lolled back as you moaned, the sound sticky with lust. He sank in deep, inch by torturous inch. You held your breath in your, feeling each little bit disappear, knuckle by knuckle, inside.

A second finger joined the first, spreading you open for him. They thrust and curled inside you. You moaned and found yourself grinding your hips into his palm. You needed more, more of him, the bliss of his fingers spread through your body to ease the fire and feed it all at the same time.

“Professor,” you whimpered. “More, please.”

“Hm?” he taunted. “That's not enough for you? You need more?”

“Yes, please,” you gasped.

You clenched around his fingers, feeling him pumping his fingers in and out of you. He curled them against a sweet spot deep within your dripping cunt, exploring your body and becoming familiar with each little nook and cranny. Your back arched and your moans were loud in the space of the bedroom. You had never felt so good before, just by his hands alone.

When his speed increased, you thought you would cry. The dizziness was eased by his pleasure, the headache had waned enough for you to see, and the pain in your stomach had simmered to a dull ache. But his fingers stuffed inside only seemed to heighten the heavy pulse in her veins.

You pulled at the tie wrapped around your wrists as you whined. “Professor, please,” you huffed. “I can't take it. I—fuck—needa cum.”

Letting out what seemed to be a disinterested sigh, he shrugged. “Since you want it so bad…” His thumb pressed against your clit and your back arched slightly at the contact.

You cursed breathily, seeing stars as the pleasure grew and grew and grew at the expertise of his hand. You thought you were going to explode, reaching your peak far too quickly as a knot began to build in your stomach. You tensed, clenching around his fingers as he spread them and curled them and pumped them in and out of you.

“Fuck, can I cum?” you moaned. “Please, professor, I need it so bad.”

He didn’t answer you, rubbing your clit in tight, fast circles as he felt you flutter around his fingers, he listened to your unsteady breath and felt your trembling thighs. You could feel yourself reaching that point, on the verge of finding that bliss…

You whimpered meekly when he suddenly stopped. Watching you with a dark smile, he chuckled as you squirmed and tried to move your hips against his hand. A tear slipped down the side of your face as the pain returned, sharper this time and spreading through your body like you’d been shocked.

“Dr. Crane, please,” you cried, squirming like a worm on a hook.

He laughed at you, looking your body up and down as he disregarded your need and spoke. “How do you feel?” he asked.

Another tear joined the first. “Please, I can’t.”

He tutted, shaking his head. “Ah-ah. Answer my question or I’ll stop completely.”

“No!” you exclaimed. “Please, it hurts. So bad, everything hurts.”

He nodded, “Good girl.” He rewarded you with the movement of his hand once more, filling you back up with his fingers and thrusting them into you.

You were blinded by the pleasure and continued to ride it out, unknowingly that he was beginning a cycle. He would have you crying, breaking down in tears and so desperate to cum all over his hand, only to rob you of such pleasure every time you got close to tasting it. And it hurt. All of it hurt, like you were being burned alive. The imaginary flames licked at your flesh and threatened to sear it off your bones.

You didn’t know how many times he’d done this cruel act upon you, how long you’d been laying there with your legs spread open wide and his fingers shoved inside of you, too caught up in the pain and the ecstasy of it all. “C-Crane,” you muttered, your lips and your tongue lazy with dissatisfaction. “Please.”

You could tell how fun this experiment was for him, and not even in just the sadistic way. He watched you closely, his eyes hooded and dark and his cheeks pink. His cock was still hard, maybe harder still in a painful way that your useless sounds helped him to ignore.

He hummed deeply, considering another dance with desperation. But he let out a deep sigh and shrugged. “I suppose,” he said, his thumb, which had been lazily rubbing too-slow circles on your clit, picking up once again.

And you were so scared it was a trick, that he would pull away and leave you to sob again at the loss of stimulation. The knot built, the dam overflowed, and as you reached your breaking point, you gasped when it all came loose. Your back arched, and you went blind as the pleasure crashed down on you like nothing you’d ever felt.

You cried out his name—or some garbled version of his name that came with not being in touch with your own body. You moaned, breathing too fast and dizzying yourself with your harsh breaths as you did. Crane smiled as he watched you, coaxing you through it as he noted just how good this orgasm must have felt for you.

“Look at you go,” he smiled, still rubbing your clit as he watched the last spasms of pleasure shoot through you. You were so pretty like this, writhing in bed as you came on his hand for the first time, whimpering and whining like a dog.

He pulled his hand from you, darting his tongue to lick the bottom lip of his wolfish grin.

As you began to settle, you let in a deep breath to fill your lungs, laying back lazily as you were offered a moment of stillness. All the pain from before was gone, the thumping in your heart calmed to a slightly quickened ut otherwise rhythmic beat. You could breathe.

Crane was staring at his watch, looking between you and it as he seemed to time something. You paid him little mind, soaking up the calm for as long as you had it.

It was all too soon that the pain began to slip back in, first as a distant sting in your head, then as the dull ache in your stomach. As your breath sped again at the slowly increasing ache, so too did your heart once more. Then the sensitivity of your skin, the burn of your goosebumps rubbing against the sheets or clashing cruelty with the air.

Unable to take so much, you began to cry. “Professor,” you spoke shakily. “Fuck, it hurts. It fucking hurts so bad. I can't—I can't, I can't.”

“Two minutes and seventeen seconds,” he stamped. “It took two minutes for the aphrodisiac to kick in again after the first orgasm has been reached.”

He stared at you, rubbing his bottom lip and sighing with a distant smile. “Oh, the things I want to do to you,” he mumbled. “To make you cum over and over and over again until you're,” he sighed longingly, his eyes fluttering and his jaw clenching with an urge he tried to conceal, “sobbing, trembling in my hands, begging me to stop.”

You shuddered, wanting it so badly but also dreading the opposite of this torture, where you would never stop shaking, never be able to calm as he pulled an orgasm after you one right after the other.

He shook himself out of his daydream. “But, I'm not sure how long you've got. That's an experiment for another day.”

You wanted to say something, but you were at your point in desperation where words were harder and harder to form unless the adrenaline really kicked in.

He positioned himself on the bed, his hand smoothing over your sides. “I bet you need me now, don't you?” Whining pathetically and not caring anymore about sounding decent, you nodded. “Yes, you do. You need me to fuck you, hhh? Take you nice and rough from behind. You need me to fuck you nice and deep, little slut?”

You nodded again, crying, “Please.”

He stood on his knees in front of you, taking your body in his hands and flipping you around, not caring for a moment that you were still tied to the bed frame with your arms now crossed.

He pulled you up on your knees and put your ass on display for him. His hands slapped down on your ass, rubbing harshly on the skin as you whined.

“Be a good girl and beg me to fuck you, sweetheart,” he breathed.

Had you not begged enough? You couldn't count the amount of times you'd told him “Please, professor, please,” and been denied for the sake of his sadism?

Still, you were desperate and you could care less at the moment about his urge to humiliate you. So you did beg, your pounding heart squeezing tears out of your eyes.

“Please, Crane,” you sobbed. “Please, I need you so fucking bad. It hurts, please.”

You were about to continue pouring your heart out when he cut you off. “Okay, okay,” he chuckled. “Calm down. It's not that serious.”

He took his cock in his hand, stroking himself a couple times as he spread your folds for him. In one push, he buried himself to the hilt inside of your tight pussy. He groaned roughly as you clenched around his cock and moaned.

“So fucking tight,” he sighed. “You've been needing this, haven't you?”

You moaned deep in your throat, melting at the feeling of him buried so deep. He chuckled, high off the sight of you so weak. He pulled out of you, an agonizingly slow drag that burned at your nerves until he suddenly thrust back in with a harsh thrust. You lost your breath, your lungs squeezed tight at the pleasure.

He grunted, doing it again and again and again as he just kept holding you tighter, pulling you back to meet each thrust. The smack of his hips against your ass was loud and followed in quick succession as he gave you no time between each thrust to recover.

You felt like your brain had melted, reduced to. a pile of mush in your head as you let yourself be devoured by the pure ecstasy of each thrust staving off the pain of the toxin burning you out.

You gripped the sheets, clenching and unclenching and trying so hard to keep it together as he split you open on his cock.

Crane was hardly keeping it together himself, gripping your waist as he fucked into you from behind. His hair had fallen over his eyes, which were dark and crazed. He had you in his clutches—you, his prey and he, your predator, his teeth and claws in your flesh and bone.

“Is this everything you imagined?” he huffed, bringing a hand to wrap around your throat and pull you up.

You clenched tighter around him and felt your limbs going weak—if he hadn't been holding you up, you would have fallen against the bed again.

“W-What?” you gasped, small and pathetic.

He laughed darkly. “You think I didn't know? What, you thought I couldn't see the way you stared at me during my lectures? You thought I didn't see your glances at my crotch, wondering how big my cock was? Huh? How good it would feel if I fucked you?”

You just kept moaning, unable to hold in your pleasures sobs. He fucked you a little harder, pulling more and more out of you as he did. “Why do you think I chose you, huh?” he taunted, laughing again. “You were perfect for the role. My cock hungry student who would do anything to impress me. Fuck, you were practically begging to be the subject of this experiment.”

It was hard to listen to him when you could barely focus on your own pleasure. Your arousal was dripping down your thighs, coating you in slick. He just kept fucking you, drunk on the pleasure.

“N-Need,” you stuttered, trying to form the words as your tongue was not your own. “Mm-fuck, needa cum.”

He didn't say anything this time as he pressed his finger to your clit. You went limb, letting yourself fall onto the bed as you whined pathetically.

“Look at you,” he smiled, his head tilted back as he relished in the squeeze of your cunt. “My little fucking whore. Does it feel good?” He laughed again, rubbing your clit a little faster. “Are you gonna cum on my cock like a pathetic slut? Hm?”

To answer his question, you did. You let out a choked cry when you came, your eyes rolling back as you went blind with the pleasure that crashed down on you. Your whole body shattered, and your thighs shook at the pleasure.

“Oh, fuck,” he huffed as you began tighter, your pussy fluttering around him and only bringing him closer to his own longed-for release. “That's a good fucking girl.”

Your head was filled with white-noise as you floated in that space between orgasms, where your whole body was numb to everything else going on. As he kept fucking you, it didn't last long. You came to and found yourself thrown into another dance of lust.

You chased the pleasure, pleading for it to swallow you whole as you took all that he gave to you. “You like that? You like being ruined by me? Hm?” he breathed, still rubbing your clit, even as you squirm.

You didn't respond, overcome by whining moans. But that was more amusing. “I know you do,” he said. “You liked being fucked dumb, don't you?”

His hips continued to snap into yours, shoving deeper and rougher. His finger on your clit continued to build you up, higher and higher.

“Are you gonna cum again?” he asked, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he kept fucking into you. “Yeah? You're squeezing my cock like you are.”

You managed to nod your head and nothing more, the knot building again in your stomach getting so tight, so close to another blinding release. You braced for it as it grew closer.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum, too,” he breathed. “Gonna cum—so deep inside you. You'll be dripping with me, sweetheart.”

You mewled, closer and closer to–

A loud cry tore from your throat as you came again, blinded and devoured and reduced to nothing but a sobbing mess as the pleasure shook through your body like a rattle.

Unable to hold himself in anymore, he moaned roughly as he spilled so deep inside of you. He gripped you roughly, pulling you back against his cock as he buried himself deep, grinding into you as he fucked his cum inside so you were stuffed with it.

“Fuck, I love this tight little cunt,” he huffed. “Perfect for me.” Your pussy fluttered around him, squeezing him tight as you squelched and gushed around him.

You lay limp against the sheets as the blood roared in your ears. After a moment, when he'd caught his breath and came down from his high, he pulled out of you and let you fall against the bed.

He breathed, letting out a deep sigh. He looked down at you, your spent body still shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure. He picked up your leg, pulling it apart to see your pussy, stuffed and leaking his cum.

He could have cum again at the mere sight of you, your messiness, your exhaustion. He dropped your leg and sat next to your limp body.

“Now,” he said, another breath leaving his lungs. “How do you feel?”

You just lay there, letting out a tiny moan after a while as your only response as you tried to recover. All the pain had disappeared, and all that was left was the heaviness in your limbs and the sore muscles to come.

He hummed a laugh. “I bet.” He reached for his glasses, putting them on the bridge of his nose once more and adjusting them.

He stood, walking somewhere in the room as your eyes followed him. When he picked up a camera hidden in the corner capturing everything that just happened, you couldn't do anything but think about how you wanted to watch it back and see just how much he'd wrecked your body.

He stopped the recording, setting the camera down with a smile. He looked at you again, kneeling in front of the bed as he rested his chin on his hands. “So many things for us to do, so many experiments to run. And now I've got you,” he chuckled, “my own personal lab rat.”

You watched him lazily, the exhaustion pulling at your system. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. You sighed into the kiss, moving as much as you could as your lips melded together. It breathed life into you, more life than it should have.

He pulled away all too soon, standing up and turning away from you as he left the room. You laid there a moment longer, thinking back over the events of the night. His own personal lab rat.

You smiled.

Cillian Murphy taglist: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @goblinjnr @kmc1989 @shelbyism @weepingwitchofthewest @cl-0-vr @thoticious @sinarainbows @the-nerdy-goddess @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bernelflo @dragonslayersupremacy @alurafairy @pietroxreader @darkcastle167 @neonpurplestars89-blog Tag yourself here...

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader smut #dc scarecrow #batman begins #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane fanfiction #batman begins fanfic #fanfic #fanficiton #reader insert #female reader #10 days of smutmas

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lunaflowers · 11 months

Text

wedding night

pairing: byun baekhyun x virgin!reader word count: 2.3k genre: smut, fluff warnings: missionary sex, piv, cunnilingus, fingering synopsis: (requested) you're a nervous virgin on your wedding night. your husband, baekhyun, tries to make your first time as special as possible.

a/n: i'm not sure if this is good because the whole shy virgin thing isn't really my jam but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless, anon! 💖

☆*: .｡. o💘o .｡.:*☆

To say that you were nervous was an understatement. It was the night of your wedding and you were finally, finally going to lose your virginity to your new husband, Byun Baekhyun.

You’d known since you were young that you were going to wait until you got married. You weren’t particularly religious, but you were exceedingly, perhaps even foolishly, romantic, and you thought the idea of saving yourself for your eventual husband once you were legally and spiritually bound to him was a beautiful gesture of love and commitment.

Unfortunately, this made your dating life significantly more difficult. Men would cut and run as soon as you would reveal that you had no intention of having sex with them in the near future. They’d accuse you of being frigid or a tease. More than one had accused you of being a lesbian.

When you’d met Baekhyun and he’d asked you on a date almost two years ago now, you’d expected the same treatment from him but you were pleasantly surprised. When you’d told Baekhyun about your choice, he was curious instead of annoyed or judgemental and he asked you questions about why you felt the way you did. It was so refreshing, finally, a man who didn’t treat you like a freak, who accepted your decision as a valid one.

It was strange to think now how at that time you had no idea that you’d met the man you were going to lose it to. Being with him now, in your wedding dress while he stood in front of you in your shared hotel room, all you could feel was your heart pounding.

“Are you okay?” Baekhyun asked, his warm eyes meeting yours.

“I am,” you replied, “Just a little nervous.”

“Don’t be. You’re beautiful,” Baekhyun said, taking you in his arms and kissing you deeply. The two of you had kissed plenty of times before, obviously, but this one felt different. The slight hesitancy he’d had before was gone. You felt something more animalistic in him this time, not having to toe an imaginary line in the sand anymore. He reached around the back of your dress, finding your zipper and unzipping it slowly, letting your strapless gown fall to the floor.

He leaned back to look at your body. You were now in front of him in nothing but the white bridal lingerie you’d bought for this occasion. You’d picked out the lacy set with your best friend, wondering if it was a bit cheesy, if Baekhyun would even find it sexy. The way he looked at you with eyes that wanted to devour you assured you that you’d made the right decision. He kissed you again, lifting you up bridal style and taking you over to the bed, placing you on it gently.

You looked at him as he untied his bowtie and began to unbutton his shirt and take it off. You could feel the heat between your legs already. As nervous as you were, you couldn’t help but be distracted by the fact that your husband was incredibly fucking hot.

Baekhyun got on top of you, kissing you again. “Do you know how hard it’s been these past couple years? Not being able to tear your fucking clothes off? Not being able to touch you like this?” He moved down, kissing your throat and between your breasts, just nuzzling his face there and breathing for a moment. “But I just fell so hard for you. I knew you were worth it.”

You giggled as rested his face on your chest. It felt so comforting but erotic at the same time. “Thank you for waiting,” you said, a little shyly. You hadn’t done this before, you didn’t know the things to say, the sexy things, the naughty things, the dirty words you’re sure the women Baekhyun had been with before you had no trouble finding, no shame in saying.

“Thank you for choosing me,” Baekhyun replied, and you couldn’t help but grin. “Can I take this off?” He asked, gesturing at your bra.

You nodded, thinking that it was sweet of him to ask. You turned over to the side so he could unclasp it. When you laid back down, you instinctively covered your breasts. It felt so odd to be exposed like this. Baekhyun had seen you in bathing suits before, but he’d never seen you topless.

“Don’t hide yourself from me baby,” he said, gently removing your hands from your chest. “I’m your husband now.” He looked at you like he’d just unwrapped the most delicious treat. “I want to love every single part of you.” He dipped his head down and took one of your pert nipples in his mouth, making you moan. The sensation was new and odd but pleasurable nonetheless. As he did that, his hand worked itself down reaching into your panties, finding the wetness between your legs.

“All this for me? Aren’t you generous?” He said, letting go of your nipple and pulling his fingers out of your panties, showing you two glistening digits.

You felt a little embarrassed even though you knew it wasn’t Baekhyun’s intent to shame you. “Well, I’ve been waiting for almost two years. It’s been hard for me too.”

Baekhyun moved to pull your panties down and you let him. He slid them down your legs and off of you, taking in your body the whole time.

“I wanna kiss you here,” he said, spreading your legs apart and running a finger down your slit. “Are you okay with that?”

You nodded, a little embarrassed again, and he dove between your legs with his mouth. He teased your entrance with his tongue, keeping his movements slow and gentle, not wanting to overwhelm you. "How are you feeling?" he asked between kisses, his voice little more than a whisper. "Does this feel good?"

“It does… It tickles a little but in a good way,” you replied.

Baekhyun chuckled softly against your skin, his breath fanning over your sensitive flesh. "I'm glad, baby," he whispered, kissing and licking your cunt, his hands resting lightly on your hips to keep them in place. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he prepared himself before slowly pushing one finger inside you, exploring your depths with gentle strokes. He wanted this to be as comfortable and as painless as possible for you and he knew he needed to open you up a little.

You moaned softly as he felt you tighten around him, your body responding to his touch. "You taste so good," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I can't wait to feel you around my cock."

You whimpered, “You’re so good at this, Baek.”

Hearing your compliment, Baekhyun's heart swelled with pride and desire. He continued to lap at your folds, his tongue dancing against your sensitive flesh while his finger was still inside you. "I’m a little out of practice," he replied with a soft laugh. "And I'm not done yet."

Slowly, he added another finger and began to thrust them in and out of you at a gentle pace, matching his movements with his tongue. He groaned as he felt you start to tighten around him again. "You feel so good. You’re responding to me so well," he whispered against your skin, his breath hot as he continued to pleasure you. "I can't believe how lucky I am to be here with you."

You smiled, biting your lip. “I’m the lucky one,” you said, in between moans. Your hips were bucking gently now and Baekhyun knew he was hitting the right spots.

His eyes closed as he tasted your sweet arousal, his body shuddering with pleasure. "Fuck," he groaned. He was hard and his hips jerked forward on the mattress reflexively. He would cum his pants if he wasn’t careful. "You taste amazing." He said, kissing your clit once more before pulling his fingers out of you and kissing his way up your stomach, his tongue tracing the lines of your ribs. "You're so perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I can't wait to make love to you."

“I want it, Baekhyun. I want you inside me, please,” you said, breathlessly. You felt like your desire was overwhelming you and you couldn’t wait any longer for him to be inside you.

"As you wish, my love," your husband replied, his voice soothing. He unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out, positioning himself between your legs, his hard length rubbing against your entrance. As much as you wanted this, wanted him, you felt yourself stiffen in nervous anticipation.

Baekhyun, noticing this, leaned down and kissed you softly on the lips, his hand stroking your cheek. "Relax, okay?" he whispered, "And let me take care of you. I love you.”

You breathed deep and nodded for him to continue. Slowly, he pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, waiting there a moment before he pushed inside, inch by slow inch. He groaned as he felt you stretch around him. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle and concerned. "Tell me if it hurts."

“It does hurt a little,” you admitted, trying to relax your body more. “But it’s not bad.”

Baekhyun paused, his eyes searching yours for signs of discomfort. "I'm sorry, baby," he said, his voice full of regret. "We don't have to do this if it hurts too much." He pulled back slightly, giving you a moment to adjust.

“No, I don’t want you to stop, please. It feels good too… Please…” you whined.

Baekhyun pressed forward again, this time going even slower until he was all the way inside you. He kissed your neck and nibbled lightly on your earlobe, murmuring soothing words to distract you from the sting. "You're doing so well," he praised you, "I'm so proud of you."

You whimpered a little and although he felt bad that he was hurting you, he also knew how much you wanted this. He could feel it in the way your body responded to him. And honestly, he wanted you just as bad. He felt you relaxing slowly and he smiled, rewarding you with more kisses on your face, making you laugh.

He groaned as he felt your walls clenching on his cock. "That's it, baby," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "You're so tight and wet for me." He began to move slowly, his hips rocking back and forth in a rhythmic motion.

He kissed your neck and shoulders, trailing soft kisses on your body. "Tell me if I'm hurting you," he murmured, "And I'll stop." But truthfully, he knew you wouldn't ask him to stop. He could feel the way you were arching into his touch, the way your nails dug into his skin. He smiled against your body, feeling the familiar rush of desire course through his veins. "You're mine," he whispered into your ear, "Completely and utterly mine. Only mine."

“Only yours,” you murmured back, breathlessly.

Hearing your words, Baekhyun felt an odd surge of possessive satisfaction course through him. He liked the idea that he was the one and only man you were ever going to have. And that you were the only woman he’d ever have again. "You belong to me now," he said, his voice becoming rough with desire. "Say it again."

“I’m only yours, Baekhyunnie,” you repeated.

Baekhyun felt his cock twitch inside you at your words. He gritted his teeth, determined to make this last as long as possible. Not having sex in almost two years had definitely affected his ability to last. "Fuck," he groaned, "You feel so good."

He reached down and began to play with your clit, earning another drawn out moan from your pretty mouth. He continued working you with his fingers, finding the right rhythm for your body and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your climax.

“I think I’m gonna…” you breathed, not wanting to finish the sentence.

"Cum for me then, baby," he whispered, more than a little relieved, because he, too, was close and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold it off. "Show me how much you love me." He increased his pace now, feeling it was safe to do so, thrusting deeper and harder into your tight cunt.

“Baekhyun,” you mewled, feeling your orgasm rush over you. You’d had orgasms before, you weren’t that innocent, but this one was different. You felt this one in your entire body, to the tips of your toes, making them curl.

"That's it. Let go." His hips slammed into yours, driving him deeper still as he felt you tense and shudder around him. He felt you climax, your body writhing beneath him. "You're so sexy,” he said, continuing his pace. “Fuck," he groaned suddenly, "I'm cumming too." He pulled out of you, quickly, his cock erupting in a hot, thick stream across your stomach. "I'm sorry," he said. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to cum inside you and I was too far gone and I panicked and pulled out. I’ll get something to clean you up.” He made a move to get up.

“It’s okay,” you said, pulling your husband close. You’d forgotten to tell him you were on the pill now, but it didn’t matter. “Stay with me.”

Baekhyun did as he was told, laying down beside you and wrapping his arms around you. “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” you said, honestly. It had been such a long day. “But happy.”

“I’m glad. Did you… enjoy that?” Baekhyun asked, a little awkwardly.

“It was perfect. It was the best I could’ve asked for.”

“Good,” Baekhyun said, kissing you on the lips. “Now try to get some sleep. It’s the beginning of our life together, my darling wife.”

☆*: .｡. o💘o .｡.:*☆

#baekhyun x reader #byun baekhyun x reader #baekhyun smut #byun baekhyun smut #byun baekhyun #baekhyun #exo fanfic #exo baekhyun #exo byun baekhyun #exo smut #exo scenarios #exo imagines #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #exo x reader

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athenaswrath · 8 months

Text

Until I Found You - Chapter 1

Quinn Hughes x reader

This chapter is more of a background story/introduction of the reader (no Quinn yet)

Word count: 829

>Chapter 1< Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

You were looking for a job when you had the amazing idea to go for one on a hockey team, the only sport I actually enjoy. When I got a call saying I got the job on marketing and social media for the Devils I was head over heels

The day they introduced me to the players I was terribly nervous, I'm not a social person at all, and being surrounded by a group of loud, confident and cocky men was not the best for my anxiety.

After a couple of days with them they noticed how uncomfortable I was being the spotlight so Nico made it his job to make me feel at ease, and to my surprise all of his closest group welcomed me in, even Jack, which sometimes had trouble keeping his flirtatious personality down with me being the only young woman on the road.

Luke on the other way was way too cute and immediately told me he consideres me a sister, saying that he'd traded me for Jack any time.

After a couple of weeks Jack spent some alone time with me, saying that I gave him the peace he'd never had before. He also started saying I was like a twin sister, obviously it had everything to do with our age and nothing with our looks.

I was in my office editing some videos for the last days of the season when Jack came through the door "Hey shortie"

"Jack, for the last time I'm 5'9" I said not even looking up from my work. He didn't have time to reply before Luke also entered the room "Hey shortie" he said in his cheery way.

"Hey pookie" I replied seconds before Jack whined "why does he get to call you that and not me?" I just laughed before looking up and seeing their nervous features. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing" "Dammit" they answered at the same time, I raised an eyebrow and Luke continued "We just... We know that you are going to spend your free time alone and that's fine, there's nothing wrong with that, and I'm sure you'd enjoy it..."

"Luke" Jack said stopping Luke's rambling. "Right... So we wanted to know if you'd like to join us on our lake house these couple of months. It's just us, Zegras, Drysdale, Holtzy and Quinn... I mean sure mom and dad are going to visit a couple of days but..."

"No, no you guys have done so much for me already I can't just take a free vacation at your house. I appreciate it really but I just can't"

Ever since you joined the Devils, they wouldn't allow you pay for anything, everyone treated you like a princess "you're Belle for sure, a beauty and a bookworm" said Holtz one day you mentioned the special treatment

One could say that everyone could kill for that, specially coming from hockey boys, but you couldn't help to ask yourself "am I being a burden? Do they pity me? Do they think I'm a golddigger? A Puck Bunny?"

But I know they love me... Well, sometimes I do. It's hard for me to accept that, when your whole life you've been told by your own family you're annoying and there's not really something to care or love about you.

When your family told you they didn't want to have you home giving them a hard time and cut communication with you, you were heartbroken and desperate for money working multiple jobs until 2 years later you finally found this place you felt peace at.

The problem is no one but Nico knows that it's only you against the world. The rest of the team is oblivious to how sometimes you skip meals in order to save money to have a decent department, or how no one ever visits you, not even in family events.

"Are you listening to me? Are you okay?" Jack's voice took me out of my thoughts and he was close to my face looking at me with a serious expression, which was unusual on him

When I didn't say anything, he said "Darling we want you there you're part of our freak family want it or not. And God knows we need you there, there has to be at least one responsable person... Also it's about a damn time that you meet Quinn"

You've met Jim and Ellen before, but you've never met the oldest Hughes brother, the first time Vancouver played against New Jersey I had the flu and I could get close to anyone to not put them at risk. The second time Quinn was out due to an injury

"Please shortie, you'll break my heart if you refuse to go" said Luke giving his biggest puppy eyes

"Are you sure everyone's okay with me joining, I don't wanna be a bu..."

"Stop it, we all want you there"

Hoping they wouldn't regret their choice and you let yourself be happy for a while you finally agreed to join them.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #quinn hughes oneshot #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot

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fakescenariosbeforesleepblog · 6 months

Text

I think my preferences changed.

Phillip Graves x FEM reader.

You met Phillip on a sugar daddies app. You never thought he would steal your heart, now you need more of him.

Warning: grammatical and spelling errors, not a very long story, mentions of sex but there's no details or deep descriptions of it.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Enjoy it, leave a 🩷 if you like it.

It's a rainy afternoon, you were in the kitchen serving a bowl of hot chicken and vegetables soup when the door of your apartment opened.

- Baby, I'm home!

You sighed and served a second bowl, your boyfriend, the same age as you, he's handsome, tall and smart, any person would envy you. You and him went back together after some months, he was the one who convinced you to try again.

You never told him what you did in those months, but you can't stop thinking about it, the moment when you needed money to pay for emergency surgery for your dog and the man who quickly attended your call.

Phillip Graves, you will never understand why he was on that app, he's not really old, maybe it is just the fact that he's rich, rich people sometimes just want to spend money without reason.

He has his own company, he's obviously the CEO, rich, handsome with those blue eyes and light brown hair, his athletic body, just to think about it your heartbeat increases and your legs shake.

He was polite and sweet all the time, you were honest about what you were doing there and that's what he liked the most, your honesty and how worried you were about your dog.

He didn't try anything like sex or something at least not on the first date, it was a nice dinner in a fancy restaurant, a walk around the park. He paid you more than what you asked for and insisted you accept it, your problem was solved. A few days later Phillip called you again, he invited you to the theater, he sent a car to pick you up, another delightful night with this charming man, for an instant you thought you could accustomed to this kind of princess treatment.

A couple dates later a kiss full of desire was the end of you, you were at his mercy. This man showed you why some women prefer older men, they really know how to treat a woman in bed, you never expected to be the kind of girl who likes to be treated rough In bed, Graves did it all well, you were begging for more, more of his tongue and fingers, more of him inside you, he devoured you, your pleasure was the most important thing for him, you couldn't went back home that night, your body was exhausted, Phillip was so kind, the aftercare was another surprise, he was the sweetest man, the first thing he did was prepare a bath for you, you were too weak to walk correctly so he carried you to the bathtub, even he asked you if he could join you, offered himself to wash your hair and body, his fingertips on your head, he washed you delicately, you did the same, both stayed there for a while, just laughing and enjoying each other's company. Later that night, he brought you food and watched a movie together until you fell asleep.

Any other guy wouldn't do all that, probably they would send you home alone and never call you back at least to be sure you arrived home safe, but Graves was a true gentleman, he took you home the next day and sent you flowers the same afternoon, texted you a few more times but then he told you he would be out of the country a few months and didn't know when he would come back.

Your days after that have been feeling boring, monotony hits you, your boyfriend went back to your life but you feel like this is not your life, you feel like you lost something and don't know what it is.

Both are sitting at the kitchen's table, the tv is just making some noise, you're observing your plate but not eating, your boyfriend has been talking but you don't know what he is saying.

- Babe...?

- Hmmm...

- What do you think?

- Oh sorry, whatever you decide is fine for me.

You're lost in memories, those blue eyes, your hands on his shoulders, his lips on yours, your legs around his waist, his laugh, his voice, your soft moans and him asking you to do it again, telling you how beautiful you look, the conversation, the dinners, the smell of his perfume, the taste of his mouth, his touch.

- Babe!...

Your boyfriend's voice brings you back to reality, Graves is not here, it's only you and your boyfriend, he's upset, looking at you with annoyance.

-...you've been very weird since we went back, tell me, is there something wrong? I know I was an idiot but come on, I'm trying my best and you don't care.

You don't say anything. You're observing your apartment, it doesn't feel like yours anymore, you look at your boyfriend and he's clearly not the man you want for you, Phillip Graves invaded your life, his name echoes in your mind, his touch makes your body scream and beg for it, you want him, you need him, he's like a powerful drug in your system, you're addicted to him, his absence is making you feel sick as if you were detoxifying.

- Tell me, what's wrong with you?

- I think my preferences has changed.

You stood up and went for your jacket, your now ex boyfriend is still sitting, shocked with your comment.

- I'm sorry for making you think we still could work, I'll go to pick my dog at the vet, you have an hour to leave my apartment, put your keys under the rug.

You left, an hour passed, you were paying the veterinary's bill. When your phone started to ring, you didn't see who it was, you simply thought it would be your ex boyfriend asking for an explanation.

- I want someone else, leave me alone.

- I hope that person it's me. I'm back in town my little princess.

That voice, you opened your eyes like plates, the biggest smile you ever made in your entire life.

- Phillip?

- Good girl, where are you? I want to see you, I can't get you out of my head.

- I'm on my way home, I've been missing you, I need you...

- I'll send you a dress and some presents I got for you, we'll go to dinner tonight love.

That's how it happened, you needed him, he was like oxygen for your lungs, adrenaline to bring you back to life, he drives you insane and you give him the same feeling, you're his little princess, his little girl and he gives you all that you want, even more.

#cod x reader #x yn #call of duty x reader #x reader #fanfiction #long reads #shadows x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #cod graves #graves x reader #phillip graves #philip graves x reader #Spotify

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b4tasquad · 1 year

Note

Hii i asked earlier if you were writing for sharky! Could I request headcannons or anything really on what it's like to date him? Like how he would be in the relationship etc. :D

DATING SHARKY:HEADCANNONS

When you initially started dating sharky it was safe to say you were scared for your life. Not only did the YouTuber have a crazy following that would dissect your relationship into pieces, trying to find way to pull the two of you apart, but the amount of girls that fancied him. Scary. You had been reluctant to tell him anything though. Being someone who influences in media was obviously something he loved doing, and you didn’t want to be annoying with your insecurities which you felt weren’t really valid. Somewhere along the first few weeks of being official, sharky had noticed. He kissed you softly, holding your cheeks in his hand. “I don’t care about what they think or the girls in my dms, I just want you.” Was what he had said, honesty behind his every word. “I swear.”

He is your chauffeur. It didn’t matter if it was an hour's drive or even 2 minutes, Sharky drove you. It started with him casually offering to drive you places, and you accepted, happy to be given such princess treatment. One day, you enlightened him on your distaste for driving, just by casually mentioning it while in conversation. “ I don’t like driving, to be honest.” You had told him. “Prefer to be in the passenger seat.” From then on he had refused to let you sit behind the wheel. He gave you a ride to work, to your dates, and even for a little snack at the corner shop. While you always rolled your eyes, telling him he didn’t need to, you secretly loved it, and he knew that.

Not going to sleep without working things out. One important thing to Sharky was working things out. He hated arguing, but since it was something that happened in every couple, he focused more on how to resolve the issue than grumbling over the issue in itself. He was the calmest person you knew, and it didn’t matter how rude you were being. Sharky would reply with the softest tone, being caring and gentle with you. After a while you had picked up his traits, refusing to stay mad at him through the night. It made it even more complicated, and that was something the two of you didn’t want.

He’d make sure you’re comfortable around his friends. It was no secret that Sharky’s friends could be a little overbearing and come across as intimidating, which meant him being slightly concerned about how you’d handle it around them. He wanted you and the guys to get along, secretly needing his friend’s validation. It was the occasional “Are they being good?” when he had stepped away for a minute, or “What did you think about it?” after dinner. Luckily for him, you got along with his friends perfectly, even finding a funny friendship with one of his best friends, Aj.

When away for work, he was in them texts constantly. Checking up on you, chatting and ranting all day long. You wondered how he got the time in between events, filming and just socializing with others, but your boyfriend was Sharky. Of course, he found a way to do all that. “Babe, the guy sat next to me smells funny” he had texted you one night you knew he was supposed to be at dinner. “Just.. move?” You had laughed out loud, your laughter doubling when his response came. “I moved before even clicking send on the message.”

He was be READY for work gossip. It didn’t matter how little or big the tea was, best believe Sharky was all in to hear about your hectic work atmosphere. You found it sweet how he’d genuinely be so into it, commenting “Noo! Are you serious?” Or even “they didn’t.” It was an everyday thing. You get home from work to find Sharky doubled over the couch, waiting for you and his daily catch-up.

The first person you show your new items to. Sharky had made his love for you trying on things for him immensely clear dozens of times. He loved being laid against the bed, watching as you talked about the clothing/ item, explaining why you liked or disliked it. Often he’d come with his personal opinion which was always. “It looks amazing on you.” You rolled your eyes every time, but a smile still grazed your lips. Safe to say he was the best hypeman ever.

#sharky #sharky x you #sharky x reader #beta squad #sharky beta squad #✭b4tasquad speaks #youtube #celebrities #headcannons

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genericpuff · 4 months

Note

Have you seen the Webtoon "Working with an Editor" Video? I feel like this explains a lot of how the platform's Originals end up in the states that they do. Based on that vid, it seems their editors are less the developmental or copy types, and more acquisitions and managerial focused. Which explains how some series have "an editor" for editorial oversight, while not being what readers would consider "edited".

oh there are... definitely things about the editors I can tell you based on what I've read and even been told directly by some Originals creators (obviously their names are going to remain anonymous here lol) Before I go into it, every editor and every contract is different, I have no way of actually knowing what goes on behind the scenes due to not being an Originals creator myself, so please take what I'm about to say with mountains of salt as much of it was either learned secondhand through creator AMA's and at best, firsthand through anonymous Originals creators who I've communicated directly with. Ultimately you should be getting your facts from the creators who actually speak up on this matter, not me.

1.) WT has a VERY small pool of editors who are currently being stretched incredibly thin. Bre Boswell, as an example, currently oversees 20+ comics, including Lore Olympus (though not anymore haha), Nevermore, The Kiss Bet, Down to Earth, and Castle Swimmer. She is not the only one with this big of a workload. Obviously with one person having to oversee this many series at once, it's virtually impossible for them to do the actual "editing" part of their jobs, even if they genuinely want to.

2.) The role of WT editor isn't the same as a traditional editor - many of them are simply liasons between creators and Webtoons, meaning any questions creators have about their schedules, salaries, etc. are directed to their editors who then contact WT on their behalf and relay the response back to the creators. The bare minimum requirement for their job seems to be just making sure that creators are following terms of services. The traditional role of editing - proofreading, offering advice and storytelling tweaks, etc. - seems to be entirely optional and dependent on how much time the editor can devote to the series (see #1) + how much creative input the creator is willing to accept.

3.) With how low WT's standards are and how overworked a lot of editors have become, many editors actually stop reading their respective comics after the first few episodes once they're confident that the creator can handle the series on their own without needing check-ups that they're following ToS. So in that respect they truly do just become messenger owls between the creators and WT (and IIRC creators send their episodes to their editors to upload, they don't do it manually themselves). This is also why there are webtoons that share the same editor but differ greatly in quality of writing and art - how well a webtoon is written and drawn is often entirely dependent on the creators making it (it's why Nevermore manages to be so consistently good despite having the same editor as Lore Olympus which is consistently awful lmao).

As an added little thing, I will not say who, but there is a specific editor who... often gets a looot of special treatment from WT, from what I've been told and heard. A lot of their series get away with way more than what others do and get a lot more advertising privileges.

(and no, it's actually not Bre LOL from what I've been told Bre is actually a very sweet person who's very chill to work with haha)

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #webtoon critical

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ggggggfft · 1 year

Note

Have you ever helped detransition someone before, if not outright forced their detransition?

That depends on your definition of “forced.” I would say I have coerced girls into detransitioning, but the ones I’ve toyed with have always wanted to be stripped of their faux masculinity in the most humiliating ways. I give them plenty of opportunities to walk away. To say no and try to abandon this particular kink. But they always - Always come crawling back telling me how drippy are for transphobic porn. How they need Daddy to fuck their little girly pussy and turn them straight. They can’t help it. Craving dominate male seed and obeying their biological urge to reproduce is literally hardwired into their smaller brains. They will always be female first and fakeboys second.

My first experience with detransing was with my ftm girlfriend of several years. He was a she when we first met and started dating and when he finally worked up the courage to transition he only did so socially. I continued fucking his soft, womanly body and playing with his massive tits like nothing had changed, because aside from a few key words and a new name, there was nothing different about her. We were still having straight sex with my cock buried deep inside her slutty testosterone free pussy. She still loved to have her nipples teased and played with and it made her so wet. She was still fertile and could get pregnant at any time. She wasn’t on birth control.

After about two years of being out and still no HRT we began to play with her gender in the bedroom. She liked when I told her to take it like a girl. That I was raping her like a girl. That she would be a good girl for Daddy’s cock and let me use her pussy. In her mind, it was all pretend, playing into her fantasies of being a femboy. For me it was the perfect way to subconsciously train her to enjoy her body as it was. For her to come to terms with her birth sex and accept her womanhood. To go back to being my girlfriend. We broke up and to this day she is still going by he/him pronouns, but she has had no surgeries and while she did recently start hormone therapy she is taking the lowest dose possible. She has a very cute little mustache and gets misgendered every day by strangers, coworkers, and even supportive family members who are fully aware she is trans and has been for years.

We fuck now and then and when we do she asks me to fuck her cunt instead of her ass and get her pregnant. She calls her clitoris her babydick or even her boyclit and the last time we fucked I was testing the waters and called it her clitoris and she said nothing in her defense. Every time I pull her pants off she’s wearing panties and she will “cross dress” if I tell her too. I’ve never come out and told her about my fetish but I feel like part of her must know or at least suspect the truth, and yet she still can’t keep her legs closed around me. She’s my long term project and I hope as her biological clock starts counting down she finally cracks and gives in to what she obviously needs.

What really kicked off my hunt for fakeboys was a girl here on tumblr. I liked her blog description, she was 18, and she had reblogged so many posts begging for transphobic asks and rape threats. I sent her what I now think was a pretty mid dm describing how I’d fix her if she was my daughter and I found her blog. She responded by sending me pics of her shaved teen pussy and begging for more filth. I was hooked after that. She’s now fully addicted to misogyny and incest porn. She’s my good little zoomer slut who I can always hit up for pussy inspections or to make her drink her own piss. She fully accepts that she is a woman in mind, body, and soul, but we agree she should continue hormone treatment because it makes her even more horny and depraved.

She has gone out in a wig and breast forms and dresses in public for me and will sit in cafes with her legs spread and her big red cherry and drooling slick cunt on display for the world to see. She’s terrified of being clocked and actually hate crimed every time, but she just makes such a convincing cis girl that nobody ever notices. As soon as she gets home she gets on cam with me and rubs her clitoris while thanking me for showing her what a dumb tranny she is. I have her crouch in front of the camera and finger herself until she squirts onto her gym clothes for tomorrow. I have her chant that she is not a man. She will never be a man. She is her cunt and cunts are slaves to cock. I have her endlessly repeat that she wants to be a girl because girls are stupid and inferior and get to be dumb, brainless cumrags eating ass and getting fisted all day long while she jackhammers a dildo into her sweaty cunt.

She started out wanting to be misgendered and feminized, but I’m proud to say I broke her. If it doesn’t involve detrans and misogyny, she can’t get off any more. We’ve discussed it and if we were to move in together, with her coming to a new city in a new state where nobody knows her she would definitely detrans for real.

Right now I’m working on a girl who hasn’t come to terms with the reality of her desires. She is also a filthy sex slave but she insists on using those annoying he/they pronouns. She’s entertained the idea of becoming my good girl all the way, but is still reluctant. I get so turned on watching her try to resist her desires but knowing it’s futile in the end. if I want her to be a girl, she will be a girl. End of story.

Last night I had a great session with another ftm who started out being unsure and using he/him, but by 4 in the morning I had her telling me how she wanted my big fat cock to fuck a baby into her in front of her family. How she wants her dad to see his grandson being made. She fell completely in love with her vagina and the pleasure it can bring real men by the end of the night.

I’m waiting to sniff out the perfect gold-star tomboy faildyke to forcibly detrans. I want her to be defiant and tough and mean as hell so that when she’s a fucked out set of holes who only lives to worship men and get pregnant and give birth and has an IQ of 50 and giant plastic tits that victory will feel all the more glorious.

There are others but this post is already so long. If you’d like to make it longer, you can always dm me or send anons if you’re nervous. I love knowing there’s a shy girl behind the screen somewhere frantically rubbing her clit to these asks.

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chaifootsteps · 3 months

Note

I know it's been said before but do you think it's definitely the case that Stolas is Viv's self insert, or she's at least seriously projecting on him?

it just seems so unintentionally revealing that the only way the writing makes sense anymore is if Viv genuinely doesn't think Stolas' flaws are flaws. She thinks he's behaving either in a totally understandable way or that his issues are minor quirks at worst

he spent the entirety of apology tour being petty and awful in a way he hasn't been since s1, but in a worse way in some respects because he obviously thinks he's in the right

he acts like he's owed Blitz's love and loyalty even when he was just using him, he has complete and total disregard for the lives of anyone he can't use in some fashion, he's rich and privileged and in complete denial about the power that gives him over other people, he treats people like garbage only to gaslight them about it after the fact, he's been told multiple times he's the problem only to reject it or act the victim again five minutes later, he acts like a petty mean girl and is a total hypocrite about numerous things, he expects to be easily forgiven when he asks for it even if he gives the most wormy non apology ever

so much of this maps so cleanly onto the way people describe Viv - that she's dismissive or outright hostile to anyone who aren't her favorites, that she treats people like expendable work machines, that she feels entitled to have people work for little pay and hates when they complain, that she shit talks or abuses friends only to turn around and be nice to them again

I try and take discord screenshots with a grain of salt until confirmed but there's a whole lot of smoke around the way Viv acts and her writing is so incompetent it can't help but feel a bit revealing about the way she views power and what right and wrong is. I can't help but think it's just going to grow into fire as NDAs expire

and as far as hb has gone lately, right and wrong are just 'how much does this character suck up to Stolas, accept lousy treatment from him or stick their neck out for him'. It's more than just the show worshipping power and treating it as self justifying, it worships this one rich character who just happens to be the victim of basically everyone else

I don't think Stolas started out as Viv's self-insert and I don't even know that she's doing it intentionally, but he definitely reeks of the way she handles conflict and views her place in the world.

Stolas's entire deal is that he's "trying," that he "feels bad" for his mistakes and he's totally sorry and won't do it again, even as it becomes increasingly apparent to the audience that he really isn't, that he keeps repeating the mistakes he's ostensibly sorry for, and that he's getting worse. That's Viv to a T, whose last apology was in 2019 -- and it was one of those "Sorry you think I'm the actual worst and that I can't do anything right" apologies -- and who's never apologized since. Viv, whose biggest enemy is herself and whose most outspoken critics have been her maltreated former employees.

Stolas in Viv's mind is a little insensitive sometimes, longing for love, and up against a world (both in-universe and out) full of unfair, unkind people who just don't understand him. Stolas in actuality is manipulative, a gaslighting liar, and most of the characters who speak out against him have considerably less power and privilege and have been hurt by him.

Remind you of anyone?

#Anonymous #vivziepop critical #stolas critical #actual blog post

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just-someone-who-likes-to-write · 2 years

Text

His Little Nurse

(Requested by @kpopgirlbtssvt : Ooo can I please request a (yandere but with fluff too?) Jonathan Crane x fem!reader where she’s a nurse that works at Arkham but she’s super sweet and innocent, and she blushes and stutters every time Jonathan talks to her (he’s technically her boss). He has a soft spot for her and wants her to be his and his alone. Luckily, that’s exactly what she wants too. All it took was him bringing her into his office to say he’s reassigning what area she’s working in, as in he makes her his own personal live-in nurse rather than an Arkham nurse (for when he gets injured being the scarecrow and because he wants her all to himself! Add anything you’d like!! )

(A/N): This has ask has been marinating in my ask box for MONTHS, as well as the story in my files, I'm sorry for suddenly disappearing and taking so long to finish the story, to be fair the story was almost finished a long time ago, I just lost energy to actually wrap it up. but i hope I hope I did it justice, and that you and others will enjoy it, and sorry if I strayed a bit.

Warnings: Fluff, bullying in work, yandere tendencies, Grammatical Error (Because I didn't proof read it.)

Word Count: 6,780

Being a nurse at Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane isn't easy, mostly because you are literally trying to look after and care for insane people who had no empathy, sense of morals, or even death if they stepped too far.

When she came to interview for the job as a nurse in Arkham, they gave her and other nurses several tests to deem them good enough to work there or not, one of those tests is a test of will and patience because they made it clear that working with insane criminals will be a lot of challenges.

"Why do you think we had open positions in the first place?"

That is what Dr. Asmadeus said, which sent a chill down (Y/n)'s spine, but never the less she stayed determined and strong believing she is more than qualified and ready for the job, so you can imagine her happiness when she got a call saying she has been accepted. However, her happiness was short-lived after a few weeks of working there. (Y/n) can remember her first few weeks very clearly, not that she is ever able to forget it because it was a literal nightmare, the tests they made her endure were nothing compared to the real thing.

She was yelled at, whether it was insulting, lewd remarks, promises of painful death and horrible acts that be done to her, or just simple screeching to her face, but she took it like a champ, of course at the end of the day she might need a drink or two, but it was still nothing, and with the guards always accompanying her on her rounds it gave her confidence that no harm will come to her.

Then the random attacks happened. she would go into the cell of an insane patient who acted all nice and polite, almost making her question why were they here in the first place, even the guards weren't as alert around them as the other patients, but she guesses it's what they wanted because one second she greeted them with a smile, next second she found herself being slammed against a wall with her arm bent in an angle almost breaking it if the guards weren't fast enough she would have probably walked out with an arm cast that day.

When that incident first happens, she was told to leave early to collect her nerves since she was obviously in shock but not expect the treatment often because, after all, this is Arkham, and because of that, she decided to take night shifts for a while since odd enough it's quieter than the morning shift for even if the inmates acted up the guards will deal with them.

And that's how she met Doctor Jonathan Crane.

She was in the middle of moving medicine when she walked past his open office and caught a glimpse of him being exhausted from whatever was in the file he was examining, rubbing his eyes roughly to try and keep himself awake. Now, (Y/n) has seen Dr. Crane before, but never personally, it was always from afar and her older colleagues warned her about him, saying that he was a short-tempered and scary man, who would lash at anyone for making the smallest mistakes. Heading their warnings, she stayed away from him until that night. She decided to forget about the rumors and make a cup of coffee for him, admittedly, she was shaking the closer she got to his office, afraid that he will yell at her for interrupting his research or something, but she still stayed her ground and knocked on his door.

When she knocked on the door, he immediately closed his file and put it away, which startled her, but his moment of hurried panic died when he saw that it was just her. he let out a groan before demanding why was she there.

"I…I… I thought you may like some coffee… since you are working so hard, sir." She cursed at her shaking voice, but how can she stay calm when a pair of tired blue eyes looked at her with a frown.

However, his frown was replaced with confusion at her words.

"You brought me a coffee?" he asked, she nodded.

"Only because you saw me working?"

Another nod.

"And without ulterior motives?" he asked suspicious of her genuine gesture.

"Of course, not sir."

He must her believe her outburst of confidence because after a few seconds of staring her down, he gestured for her to put the cup on his table, which she did, and the closer she got the more intense his stare was, she felt him calculating her every move, probably was waiting for her to do something stupid to lecture her with but she stayed strong.

"Would you like anything, sir?" She asked, finally meeting his eyes.

"No," he replied not breaking eye contact.

"Very well, my shift will end in a few hours if you need anything you can inform me, after all this night seems like a slow one." She said chuckling at her own small joke but getting no reaction making her feel embarrassed.

So, she nodded to him one last time before turning to leave but as she was about to exit the room he spoke.

"Thank you for the coffee, Ms. (L/n)."

"How did you-"

"Your name tag." He said pointing at his chest to where her name tag was pinned on her.

"Oh right…" She gave him a nervous smile and just before she left, she could swear she saw a glimpse of him smiling as well.

After that, she started seeing him a bit more around. The first time he greeted her by name was in front of her colleague, asking her how was her day, and she in return asked about his night yesterday and if the coffee helped, it was a friendly chat, but her colleague was in shock, especially the ones who worked with the doctor longer than anyone, they showered her with many questions…

"What happened?"

"What did you do?"

"You went to his office without him calling?"

"You actually talked to him?"

"Did you do anything "Funny" to him?"

(Y/n) tried to answer as best as she could, saying time and time again that nothing happened and she just gave him coffee because he looked tired. But it made it hard for some to believe her words because he continued to greet her and even ask for her personally if she needed an assistant.

One day Dr. Crane came to work with a few bruises on his face that were bandaged, which made her hurry to him in panic.

"Dr. Crane, are you alright? What happened?" She asked worriedly.

"Uhm… don't worry dear it's nothing you need to worry your little head about." He replied deflecting her questions but she still pressed.

"What do you mean not to worry? You look like you were beaten up, did someone hit you? do I need to call the police?" A soft look showed in his eyes at her concern for her.

"As I said it's nothing." He repeated and petted her head before leaving for his office probably to rest.

On that day (Y/n) did her best to stay as close as possible to help him with anything or give him anything he might need, the nurse thought she was being subtle but was proven wrong when he came to her at the end of the day and thanked her for her care, making a red blush show on her face. The next day she was told that from now on she would be working under Dr. Crane, because one of his previous nurses were not “up to his level”, as she was told.

And (Y/n) was more than happy to be his nurse, her coworkers mockingly pitied her, making bets behind her back that she won’t last a day. However, a month passed and she is merrier than ever, Dr. Crane was a great boss, he was always lenient, and when she did make a mistake, he’d lecture her softly and show her how it should be done.

“Don’t laugh... But... I think I have a crush on him.” She confessed to a colleague one day during lunch.

“Oh, shocker.” Her friend replied sarcastically.

“I’m being serious here!”

“I know dear, but it’s not really news since all of us could see you stare at him the entire day with hearts in your eyes.” she said chuckling, making the girl blush.

“Is it that obvious?” She asked. “Y... You don’t... think HE noticed... Do you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“What do you mean?”

“Listen, I worked here for a long time before you came along, and aside from what everyone is saying he isn’t always that bad, he can be nice if he wants to, strict man, but fair.” Her friend started explaining. “Sorry if I sound blunt, but you are not the first he treated nicely, there were nurses before you who he tolerated.”

After that comment (Y/n) dropped the subject and focused on eating even though she had lost her appetite from the harsh words. Was Dr. Crane truly only tolerating her? He did look a bit disappointed that one time she gave him the wrong medicine, is he only being polite by making her join his crew because she was nice and gave him coffee that one night? Such questions continued to flood her mind all night that day. So, she decided to keep distant.

(Y/n) exchanged work schedules with another nurse, which means she had to work closer to inmates while her colleague worked close to Dr. Crane, (Y/n) didn’t even get through the first round before the doctor found her and demanded to know why isn’t she working at her usual post.

"I… I thought a bit of change could be nice…" She lied with a weary smile hoping he'd believe her. "For both of us."

"Well, it isn't." He dead-panned. "The other nurse was a disaster, she didn't know where my stuff was or my routine, which means that I would be forced to explain everything and I hate that."

(Y/n) looked down a bit ashamed, thinking maybe she could have at least told the other nurse a tip or two.

"Not seeing you there with a smile and a sweet good morning already threw me off and now that!"

He mumbled with a tired sigh. (Y/n) didn't know if he realized that she said it loud enough for her to hear or if he just didn't care, all she knew is that she had to fight a heavy blush as she followed him back to his office to help him resume his work. Unconsciously, that day she did her best to keep a happy smile, which seemed to pull the doctor out of his previous gloomy mood.

And even though (Y/n) still had some of her doubts about the doctor's feelings towards her she did her best to not allow it to interfere with her job again.

---

"Revaluation?" (Y/n) questioned as she followed the doctor into his office.

"Yup." He confirmed. "Since we are getting more mad criminals like that recent self-proclaimed "Scarecrow" than actual patients they decided that it would be better to replace our dear delicate nurses with… more muscle."

There was a pause for a moment as she refused to meet the eyes of the doctor as anxiety about what was to come started to build in her.

"Listen, my dear." He started earning her attention and she was met with kind eyes and a smile. "I will do my best to put out a good name for you, I maybe not be the most … well-liked… doctor on the board but at least they trust my opinion, just remember keep working hard, and don’t tell anyone about this."

"Why did you tell me then?" She asked confused.

"Because you are my very best nurse, I can't afford to lose you-.. Ouch!"

"Are you ok!?"

Dr. Crane's words were cut off when he tried to rest his forearm on the table, only to hiss in pain and jerk back.

"I'm fine." He assured before pulling his sleeve and revealing a line of bruises that were treated in a bit messy way probably because he had to do it alone.

"You are not fine!" With that said (Y/n) went to a nearby first aid kit.

"My dear, stop, I assure you I am completely fine." He tried to convince her but she refused to take no for an answer as she reached out for the injured hand, which had dodged.

There was a moment of stunt silence from (Y/n)'s end, but she didn't give up as she tried to take hold of his forearm, but he kept dodging her, flailing his arm around like a madman, but after a while (Y/n) stopped with a huff.

"Please…Let me treat you." She begged with e sad look in her eyes as she met his own, it didn't take long for the doctor to give and reveal his injury to her, again.

There was an eerie silence between them as she worked on the doctor, she was so focused on treating him that she didn't notice how he was staring down at her fondly, but he shook his head becoming stern again.

"You are too kind (Y/n), that's why I mean it when I say make sure to tell no one." He said in all seriousness, making her meet his eyes before smiling.

"Don't worry doctor, I'll tell no one."

After that, the nurse stayed for a while to make sure that the doctor was alright, before excusing herself, and just as she left she missed the look of regret that showed on his face before closing the door behind her.

---

She should have listened to him.

Against her better judgment (Y/n) let it slip one night to her best friend what is happening and what is at stake, advising that her usual slaking won't be good for her and to work harder for a while, at least until this passes. However, not long after that, she noticed how most of the nurses are starting to work harder than usual, at first she thought that maybe a rumor started about the reevaluation.

Then the bullying started, not bullying more like sabotaging.

Her colleagues started taking jobs that are meant for her, forcing her to just stand there confused about what to do or finding herself messing up medicine labels or breaking expensive equipment, which she got quite the lash for from Dr. Hugo Strange, Dr. Amadeus was strict but Dr. Hugo was ruthless, after berating her in front of her colleagues, who she caught glimpse of them snickering as she was yelled at, she ran to the bathroom where she cried herself for the rest of the shift not bothering to leave to do her work because she knew it that the other nurses were already taking her job and leaving her with nothing.

(Y/n) didn't know how long she's been there crying but she guessed it's been a very long time because a knocking on the door pulled her out and made her look around her and from the orange light that is coming out of the small bathroom window she knew it was near sunset, which means she has to leave soon. Another knock sounded and she was planning to ignore it but then a familiar face called…

"(Y/n), are you in there?" It was Dr. Crane. "You.. uhh .. Friends .. told me they saw you go in here…. I.. I also heard of what happened with Dr. Hugo… I'm sorry I wasn't there to stop him."

From the other side, Jonathan heard nothing, and doubt started to set in about if his little nurse was truly in there or not, after all, he didn't trust those other women to really keep an eye on her or even care for her. He was tempted to open the door and look inside not caring that it was a women's bathroom but he stopped when he heard the water start and a few splashes, he quickly stood back and waited patiently, and the sight that greeted him broke his heart. Even though (Y/n) tried to clean her face he could still tell that she was crying from her buffy red eyes, her slightly messy hair and dress, and the small sniffles that she tried to hide poorly.

"Oh, my dear…"

He said as he came closer with open arms to wrap around her and comfort her, which thankfully she didn't push away. She buried herself in his chest and sobbed quietly, and Jonathan said nothing as he rubbed her back in a calming matter, knowing full well that what she needed now is to let it out, at the same time he was doing his best to push away that feeling of guilt he felt and only held his little nurse tighter.

---

"I… I'm sorry for ruining your coat… *Sniff*.."

"Don't worry about it." he said as he hung the coat, which had tear stains.

Dr. Crane then walked to the small drink station in the corner of his office and came back with something for her.

"Is that (F/c/d)?" She asked surprised.

"Yeah." He replied a bit bashfully. "I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but I might have seen you drink it after every shift you had so I thought it must have been your favorite after a hard day, so I bought some."

(Y/n) was stunned at first and she didn't know if she should feel embarrassed or flattered for being noticed by the doctor in such a way. As she took a sip of the drink she noticed how the doctor had a gentle smile but his eyes were looking at her with pity.

"… How did you know about Dr. Hugo?" She finally asked as she averted her eyes down to the drink.

Dr. Crane was silent for a moment, he was finding it difficult to explain himself, mostly hesitant if he should tell her or not how he found out.

"The other doctors and I were having a meeting about the evaluation… and .. Dr. Hugo came in with a pile of files, saying that they were the nurses who should be let go." He started explaining. "…Your name was in there…"

That made her look at him with horror in her eyes.

"I tried to plead your case, I even showed evidence of your amazing work, but Hugo seemed to have other evidence that said otherwise."

"What evidence?"

"He somehow obtained some proofs that you were "Slacking", which-"

"I wasn't slacking!" She exclaimed. "The other nurses won't let me do my job! They take everything from me, and if I refused to give up the task they would sabotage me! And.. AND!-"

"(Y/n)! Calm down! Breath, dear!"

Dr, Crane stood up from his desk to walk around and give her a handkerchief and that's when (Y/n) realized she was crying again, her frustration and anger at what she was hearing overwhelmed her, and the knowledge of knowing that she can't do anything about it, that it was too late angered her even more to the level of crying it out. She took the handkerchief and wiped her tears as she tried to calm down because she already cried enough today. There was silence as the kind doctor rubbed her back in a soothing manner waiting for her to calm down.

"I know you are not at fault." He finally said. "You are a hardworking and dedicated person, when my eyes laid on you the first time I knew you were able to do so many without a fail or hesitation, that's why I wanted you to work by me so much."

His words made her look up at him and give him a weak smile, and she knew if she wasn't feeling so sad now she would have probably ended up as a blushing mess about what he said.

"… Thank you, doctor."

He just nodded as he continued to rub her back, and she didn't mind the considered touches.

"… I'm going to be fired, aren't I?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"When will it happen?"

"Next week probably."

"… I see."

(Y/n) put her drink down and stood up, which forced the doctor to pull away.

"Thank you for everything doctor." She said with a smile, despite the redness of her eyes. "I think I will head home now."

She said as she gave the handkerchief back to her and turned around to the door. The doctor stood there for a moment wondering what to say next.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Hmm… First I will clean up my locker, then I will take my first early leave, along with using what's left of my vacation days, I think I have more than just a week, but oh well." She shrugged accepting the reality of the situation.

"(Y/n), Wait I-"

"It's alright Dr. Crane." She assured. "There is nothing we can do about it, I will find another job somewhere else, everything will be fine in the end, and thank you for everything, Goodbye."

She exited the office and headed to the locker room, not noticing the doctor's struggle to call her but giving up in the end. Along her way, she went past her colleagues who giggled as they looked at her with an evil glint in their eyes, but she ignored them and paused for a moment when she heard the conversation that was happening in the locker room with multiple of her colleagues.

"For real?"

"Yup!"

"How did you know?"

"I hear Dr, Hugo talk about in the hallways with one of the doctors, (Y/n) will be fired."

"Hahaha! Oh my god, I can't believe it actually worked!"

"Yeah, thank god you told us about this revaluation."

"Don't mention it." That voice… It was her best friend. "I knew tolerating being around that girl would pay off, especially after seeing how cozy she was being with Dr, Crane."

"I can't believe she was ready to throw us under the bus like that, how trashy."

"I told you million times but you girls never listen." She lectured. "Her type of people won't give you what you want unless you act nice to them and then they will do everything you want, including hooking you up with how to save your job."

"You are so mean!"

Everyone laughed in unison, and that's when (Y/n) slammed the door open, ignoring the gasps and startled screams that echoed in the room as she made her way to her locker. She could feel the atmosphere thickens as everyone looks at each other awkwardly, knowing full well that she heard them. Ignoring all of them she started collecting her belongings silently, good thing she doesn't bring unnecessary stuff. As she closed the locker and started walking out she stopped in front of her so-called "Best Friend" who was stunned but tried to give a stiff smile.

"H.. Heyyy….girl-"

"Stop." (Y/n) sternly, causing the other woman to flinch and grow silent again. "Congratulations on keeping your position as a nurse and getting me fired with your friends here… and I wonder how long are you gonna keep it."

"What?" she asked in bewilderment.

"In the way that Gotham is headed, I'm sure there would be even crazier people to deal with." (Y/n) started explaining. "I mean, look at the last guy on the news, what was his name?... Yeah the scarecrow, and I'm sure there are many like him in the making."

"That just means more money for us." She replied quickly making the other laugh as if (Y/n) was being stupid.

"Did you forget the original reason why they are letting people go in the first place?" they were all stunned by her confidence, which scared them.

"They want to cut back for a while-"

"Wrong." (Y/n) interrupted. "They want more muscle, more strong people to be able to hold and drag the new inmates if need be, do you think your manicured nails and fragile self can handle that."

That made everyone shut up, (Y/n) turned to look at everyone else around her.

"The next revaluation will come soon, and when it does… who will you trust I wonder."

With that said she exited the room leaving behind her the group of toxic women who looked at each other suspiciously, but the one who got the most glares was her "Best Friend".

When she finally reached home she saw the eviction notice on the door, she was already behind and now without her job, she won't be able to. she just sighed and went inside so she can cry herself to sleep, not noticing the figure that was watching her from the corner before it disappeared.

---

"We have been observing your work for the past couple of months and noticed how your performance has been lacking, which forced your colleagues to pick up after you, therefore we decided that you are no longer needed."

That was what doctor Asmadeus said as he continued the pressure of firing (Y/n), there were moments when she wanted to defend herself against the accusations thrown at her but decided against it as they might take it as a sign that it was all true. She turned around and gave one last look at the building and from afar on one of the windows she caught the sight of Dr. Crane who waved goodbye to her and she smiled and waved back to him.

Before she left the doctor hurried to her side and gave her a card with his number on it when asked why he said she could use him as a reference for future jobs because he is sure that if she used any of the other doctor's info they might say some…. Harsh things, which would lower her chances of getting a new job, and (Y/n) was grateful for him.

She really liked Dr. Crane, not just as a coworker or friend, but far more than that, before all of this had happened she was contemplating whether she should tell him or not, aside from the hesitation she was also waiting for the right moment to blur it out but then all of that had happened and now as she made her way to the bus stop she thought it would be a miracle if she even saw the doctor again.

---

Who knew a miracle can happen so soon only one week after?

It was during grocery shopping that she met the doctor. They talked for a bit catching up on everything new that happened, Doctor Crane told her of how more trouble shown with the nurses after she left, a lot of lacking and sabotaging, and because of it, they started considering firing all of them and replacing them with strong men to handle the patients better, which made (Y/n) bite her tongue and wonder if what she said to them before she left had anything to do with all of it. When he asked her about herself she was tempted to say that everything was great, but she couldn't.

She started confessing how she has been struggling to find a job, and how she might lose her home as well because of it. Doctor Crane was sympathetic to her, but his frown quickly turned into a smile as he thought of an idea.

"You can come to my building!" He exclaimed.

"What?"

"The building I live in I mean…" He started to explain. "We got open apartments, the rent is cheap, and I know the landlord personally I can ask him to ease up on you for a while until you are up on your feet again."

"Oh no, I can't possibly ask you to go through so much trouble for me-"

"It's not and I insist." He replied refusing a no for an answer.

"I… I don't know what to say…"(Y/n) stuttered. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it, dear, we can talk about this tomorrow if you want." He hesitated for a moment before continuing with a bashful smile. "Maybe over lunch? I know a good diner."

That took (Y/n) by surprise, looking away for a moment embarrassed and hoping that her blush wasn't showing, not believing that he was actually asking her out now, she still wondered if it was because he was interested or if it was genuinely to talk about the apartments, but none the less smiled back and agreed to meet him for lunch.

---

Almost a month had passed since (Y/n) moved into her new apartment, which was a floor apart from Doctor Cra- … Jonathan's. He had insisted that she stops addressing him so formally since they are now friends and neighbors now and it has been a blessing. They meet by the stairs almost every morning, Jonathan going to work and her going to job interviews, which each one failed. She never understood what she had done wrong even checked her resume with Jonathan and he said there was nothing wrong, another reason was that she wasn't comfortable with the people in charge and didn't want to set around and find out why.

The thing that has been keeping her positive is when her and Jonathan meet up at the diner, which is rare considering how late he has to work, so she always looks forward to it, even if they only went as friends. (Y/n) tried many times to build up the courage to confess her feelings for the doctor, but every time she would get scared, and worried because of the possibility of him not returning her feelings, and ruining what is between them now.

She sighed as she entered the building and made her way up the stairs, thinking of ways to make this crush of hers die when she heard a distance groaning, she paused waiting to make sure what she heard was true and it came again a distance groan of pain followed by a fall, feelings it as an instinct (Y/n) ran up the stairs as fast as she could and she was not ready for the sight that greeted her.

"Ugh… (Y/- (Y/n)?"

Jonathan's weak voice asked, and she didn't blame him for asking for his glasses were missing and his right eye was bruised, his lower lip is busted, his clothes were torn and ruffled up, he was supporting his left arm, which she was afraid is broken and from his struggle to stand up but making it all the way here she can tell that it was probably twisted.

"Jonathan!" She exclaimed as she hurried to his side, helping him rest on the stairsteps properly, earning a pained groan in response. "What happened?!"

"Burglars." He answered. "They cornered me after I got out of my car."

"Oh god…" (Y/n) said as she examined him further, noticing the bruises hidden by his shirt. "We need to get you to a hospital-"

"No need." He interrupted her. "I.. I just need to get back to my apartment, I got everything I need there."

"But your arm, what if it was broken."

"Believe me it's not, I would know." He joked, trying to make light of the situation, but (Y/n) didn't smile.

"At least let me help you, please."

Jonathan wanted to say something but gave in and allowed her to take his good arm and flung it around her neck as she supported him to go up the stairs and into his apartment. (Y/n) been to his apartment before so after helping him set on the sofa she went to the cabin where Jonathan kept his medical tools and medicine and she hurried back to him doing her best to treat him. In her focus she didn't notice how the doctor was not breaking his stare, admiring the young woman, it wasn't until she decided to pay attention to his busted lower that she realized his lingering stares, which made a red blush show on her cheeks and her hand to slightly shake.

"H… How are you feeling?" She asked trying to shift the mood.

"I'm better now." He answered still not breaking eye contact.

"Are you sure?... isn't there any type of pain?"

"With your gentle care? Never."

There he goes again with his sweet words that made her heart skip a beat. (Y/n) held her tongue and said nothing as she did one last check on him.

"You thankfully don't have any broken bones or torn muscles but that doesn't mean you don't need to rest." She said before standing up. "I advice you to skip work for a while until you get better."

"R… Right, thank you."

"You are welcome."

Jonathan looked troubled, he looked at her and then at the ground as he was struggling to say something, or more like hesitant. (Y/n) stood there for a while, waiting for him to say anything, but after almost a minute passed with nothing she started cleaning the place.

"I will put the meds away and-"

"Will you be my nurse?!"

He blurted it so suddenly catching (Y/n) off guard, she stared at him with wide confused eyes, not sure if what she heard was right.

"What?"

"I… I was asking .. If you would like to be my nurse." He explained hesitantly. "A personal nurse, Not a servant! Of course not, I mean you would be helping me when I need you but only when I'm hurt no other things."

(Y/n) stood there for a moment, processing what he just said, which made Jonathan's anxiety ride with every moment of silence, then she finally talked.

"…Why?"

"Well, You see, I'm actually really accident-prone, and sometimes like now, I can be a magnet for trouble."

He gave a small laugh as he averted his eyes, which made (Y/n) pity him because she remembers the bruises he came with in the past, the bandages would be done wrong and it's understandable since he can't possibly do it with an injured arm or shoulder, she always asked him what happened but he always changed the subject and she didn't push, just offered her help.

"How often does this happen?" she asked gesturing to his body.

"More than you think." He answered. "Some days I can go with a couple of bruises, others I have to take a few days off until I'm sure I won't lose my balance when I stand."

His voice became sad at the end as he looked down at his now bandaged foot.

"It can be really difficult I won't lie, But!" He looked back at her with a spark in his eyes. "When you came along it made it easier, not only are you brilliant and talented in your work, but you are also very kind and sweet. Seeing your comforting smile never failed to make me forget about my sour day."

(Y/n)'s eyes widened at his confession and from the blush that was growing on Jonathan's face as he averted his eyes she guessed it was genuine and sudden even for him.

"You don't have to answer now, think about it and take all the time you need." He said still not meeting her eyes as he picked on his bandaged hand.

The doctor was always this serious man, who always stood tall refusing to show any weakness, and for (Y/n) to see him allowing himself to be vulnerable and act all shy around him gave her mixed feelings, because she didn't know if she wanted to admire him further, or her herself would also become a ball of shyness because all of this is almost overwhelming for her. However, she needed to think about this seriously, she has just been offered a job by her previous supervisor to be a personal nurse, and despite her knowing the doctor well and trusting him, it still felt strange and wrong for some reason.

"… How will you be able to pay me?" She finally asked, this caught his attention and made him straighten up and set his work mode.

"Don't worry, having you as my personal nurse won't have any effect on my finance if that's what your concern is." When he saw the dissatisfaction in her eyes with his answer her explained. "Let's just say that I have good money saved up that with it I could even leave Gotham for good if I wanted to."

"Then why don't you?"

"Well, at first it was because I liked my job… but now…" He gave her a soft look as he smiled. "I have a different reason to stay."

(Y/n)’s eyes widened slightly at his implications as a blush started to form on her face. He can’t be saying what she thought he was trying to say? It almost feels too good to be true. Not trusting herself to stay any longer, fearing that she would embarrass herself in some way, (Y/n) started to collect her things and made sure to keep the medicine close to Jonathan and brought him the tea that she prepared when they first came back.

“I’ll leave you to rest, please sleep well.”

She said as she put the tea cup down but before she could pull away the doctor grasped her hand gently forcing her to look at him, her eyes meeting his own that looked at her with such adoration.

“Promise me to think about it?” He asked hopefully.

“I…I will…” she replied with a small smile.

“Very well.” He said before leaning in to kiss the back of her hand. “Good night, my dear.”

“G..G…GOOD NIGHT!”

(Y/n) Yelped out before pulling her hand away as if she was electrocuted and marched outside the apartment to her own. While she was lecturing herself on how she basically ran away from the doctor, Jonathan was chuckling to himself, finding her sudden reaction adorable. He stood up with ease, showing no hint of previous weakness, making his way to the mirror to admire the bandages and patches that his beloved little nurse treated him with.

Oh, she was so sweet, so so sweet maybe even too sweet for Gotham, but that’s where he comes in. He will be her protector, her aid, and soon her love. Jonathan knew from the first time he saw her work that she was too talented and brilliant to be working under anyone else but himself, but he never expected to grow a soft side for her, and for that soft side to become full-on possessiveness and obsession. She filled his every thought, whenever she got too far away from him he became relentless, and he will not start on the jealousy he felt when her attention was on someone other than himself, but he knew she couldn't help it, she is an innocent person who always made friends along her way.

That's why it hurt to see the sad look in her face when he let it "slip" that (Y/n) knew of the revaluation, he was going to make it pass as a rumor because he knew the true nature of the other nurses who worked there, that they will drive (Y/n) away for his plans to work, but he didn't think his dear was too kind that she would not head his warning and tell her supposed "friend" of it all. In the end, it worked for his favor, because she turned to him for comfort and trusted only him.

He almost asked her to be his nurse on the same day she was fired, but it was good that he held back for a while for her to be disparate for work enough, and when she told him that she needed a new home, it was as if fate herself was making sure that their paths would intertwine into one path that they would walk through together.

Yes, it was all meant to be this way.

(Y/n) is meant to be his, his sweet innocent nurse, who'd take care of him and always be by his side. His alone.

He just needs to continue this act of a helpless man a bit more before opening himself for her, maybe with time he'd even tell her about his "side job". But not now or anytime soon. For now, he just needs to focus on making sure that in the end (Y/n) would fall into his arms.

Even if he needs to take extreme measures, he will have her.

---

I hope everyone enjoyed this story and again sorry if it's too late.

#jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #Yanadere Jonathan crane x reader

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