#inception fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hellotherekenobi · 1 year

Text

A DEAL IN MATRIMONY

02. GOING HOME.

Chapter Summary: now headfirst into the deal made with Robert, it turns out things are going a little differently than planned, especially when he speaks without thinking first.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: mentions of death.

Index: Previous Chapter. Next Chapter. Masterlist.

The walk back to the office is silent, but as you already know by now, word travels fast.

It’s Cathy’s facial expression that gives it away first, then the stares of everyone you pass by on the floor. She shakes her head at you in a worried way, but you’re still too shocked to even respond with a look other than the tense face you’re wearing.

When you both reach his office, you quietly shut the door behind you, then watch as he sits behind his desk and once again flicks through papers. Such a casual action, so normal. If it’s the only bad thing you can hope for at this moment, then you’re wishing he gets a paper cut.

Finally, when he seems to notice that you haven’t made your way to sit in front of him, he looks up at you.

“What is it? You keep staring at me today.”

“Well, I'm not sure. It could be because I thought you might have gotten a punch to the face this morning with Saito, but,” you shrug your shoulders, hands falling flat against your sides with a loud slap sound. “I think it has more to do with you telling the board that we’re engaged.”

Robert shakes his head. “Don’t get your hopes up, it’s nothing permanent, and it’s as much for your benefit as it is for mine.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I follow,”

When he says nothing more and looks back down at those bloody papers, you snap.

“Robert,” so close to a bark is the way you say his name, and he looks up at you instantly, a little wide-eyed. “I can’t marry you.”

He settles back against his chair. “Of course, you can, otherwise the dreams you mentioned in your referral will be just that,”

You continue to stare, a little ill at ease, so he explains.

“If I were gone, they were going to put Saito in charge. You know how he is, especially now with his newly resparked vendetta. He would fire you the second I left, guaranteed. Which means all the time that we’ve spent together, the coffee runs and late night paperwork, and the goals you’ve put on hold just to satisfy this business will all be for nothing, and the only future you’ll have is filing papers down in the annex.”

It’s too much information to process, you think you might topple over with the amount. Could they change the company that quickly? And change your profession, too. You’ve worked tirelessly since day dot. There’s no way all of that has led you here, just for you to get fired because a businessman has it out for your boss.

“This is insane,” you say with hollow breath. “Not to mention illegal.”

“As if you were saving yourself for someone special,”

Once again, he waves your comment off, and you want to reach over to grab him by the wrist and have him slap himself.

“Relax,” he presses. “After the required allotment of time, we’ll get a quick divorce and you can be done with me. However for now, like it or not, your wagon is hitched to mine.”

A sudden knock at the door syncs to the thumping in your chest, your heart ready to leap out, and Robert gestures for you to answer it with such impassiveness that your head feels hot again, lit by the flames of how arrogant he’s being.

There stands Cathy when you open the door, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“Mr Cobb is here.”

“Tell him we will need to reschedule,” Robert calls out, having heard her voice. “We have somewhere to be.”

“Where are you going?” She asks, clicking the pen in her hand and giving you a look.

Hell, that is what you want to say. If not because you’re going to be married to your boss whom you’ve despised for almost every day of the three years that you’ve worked here, then it’s definitely where you’re headed for being stupid enough to commit a crime like this.

About the most criminal thing you’ve ever done is stash hotel toiletries into your suitcase before leaving your holiday, but everyone does that. Getting married to prevent someone from being deported doesn’t exactly fit into that category.

The only reason why you leave the office with Robert is that you’re fearfully repeating the words he spoke to you about the threat of becoming unemployed like a mantra in your head. All those years for nothing if you don’t go through with this. How is that at all fair?

Your family won’t be happy with you. Your dad, though, will probably be thrilled. He never did like you moving to the city back when you first started steering your own life. How much worse that makes all of this become.

You feel like someone is going to shine a spotlight on you the minute you walk through the doors to the immigration office with Robert in front, as if a cop would jump out from behind the dead plant in the corner to handcuff you.

The line is longer than the one at the coffee shop this morning, so you’re hoping that you can collect yourself before you make it to the front counter, maybe talk yourself out of this, but Robert has other plans as he tugs your sleeve and cuts the line to the front.

The offended looks from everyone in line makes you want to bury yourself into the ground, so you turn around to avoid their gaze, since there is no stopping Robert when he has his mind set on something. The prick.

“What are you here for?” The man behind the counter asks, clearly unimpressed with you both.

“I need you to file this fiancée visa,” Robert says, like a robot, pushing the folder toward the man.

“Please,” you add, seeing as Robert’s rudeness has gotten even more stares.

The man sighs, flicking open the folder and reading down the page. You’re ready for that imaginary cop to spring up again until the man says: “Follow me,” and disappears to the back.

Robert and yourself walk down the long hallway past many offices—and many criminals, too—meeting the man at one door, which he opens and tells you to wait inside. You immediately seek the chair closest to the door, in case you have to make a mad dash out of here.

Maybe you should just leave while you have the chance and leave Robert here, too. Surely they wouldn’t arrest you if you leave now… right? But the knock on the door soils your plans, with Robert stepping to the side to let in the dark-haired man.

“Hello,” he says, walking over to the desk. “My name is Arthur. Sorry about the wait, it’s been a hectic morning.”

He sits down quickly, flicking open the document he had in his hand, letting out a loud sigh that cuts the smile he had in two.

“Oh boy, here we go…”

Maybe you aren’t an expert in this area, but the way he said that doesn’t exactly boost your confidence. His shirt has no tie with it, just an open coat on his shoulders. It’s almost carefree in a way that unsettles you in a place like this.

“Now, before we start, I have a small but quick question—” he perches his elbows on the desk, leaning forward. “Are you both committing fraud to avoid Mr Fischer’s deportation and keep him as director over his company?”

Your heart drops twenty stories from your chest down to the pit of your stomach. This is it. You’re screwed. He knows, and you didn’t even have to say a word. But Robert plays it cool, straightening his shoulders.

“That’s quite a first question, and a false one, too.”

Arthur nods his head, linking his hands together. “I got a phone call from a man who seemed very convinced on the matter.”

“Was that a man named Saito, by any chance?”

“Yes, it was.”

Robert shakes his head, stepping forward to put a hand on the chair beside you.

“I apologize, but Saito is nothing more than a disgruntled, former businessman. You can ask around the company, he’s only trying to take my position, and at any cost, it seems.”

“Right,” Arthur nods, gesturing a hand out to the chair Robert is leaning on. “Please, Mr Fischer. Take a seat.”

He does as instructed, letting out one of those quiet sighs that you’ve heard far too often. How could he not be freaking out right now? Robert is cold, but is he this cold?

“Let me explain to you both the process that we will be going through here,” Arthur leans back in his seat, an elbow propped on the arm of it. “Firstly, there will be a scheduled interview where I will put you each in a room and ask you every intimate question that a real couple would know about each other,”

Oh great, you’re going to be asked about your non-existent relationship with Robert. You fear what kind of questions Arthur has on his list and pray that they’re not as wild as the ones you’re thinking of.

“Then, I dig deeper. I go through your phone records, I talk to your co-workers and neighbours, and I check to see how many dinner reservations you’ve had in the last three months. If your answers do not match up on every account then you, Mr Fischer, will be deported back to Australia indefinitely and you, ma’am, will have committed a felony, punishable by a fine of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars and a stay of five years in federal prison.”

Prison. Oh dear goodness, you’re going to prison. That cop you imagined is really going to come barging through the door quicker than you can gulp and you’re going to have to send your Gammie a birthday wish behind bars. Not exactly how you wanted to spend your weekend. Nor your life.

“So,” Arthur looks straight at you, beckoning you closer with his finger. “Do you have anything you want to tell me now before we get ahead of ourselves?”

Immediately, with worry, you shake your head. Yet, as soon as Arthur acknowledges that reaction you slowly nod, feeling the burning gaze of Robert sitting beside you and the unintentional tears pricking your eyes, threatening to expose you without the need for words.

Fury of the police or Robert Fischer, what is worse? There are too many things to take into account, too many results of this lie that end up in flames. You’re not stupid enough to consider putting both feet in, even if that means you’ll be walking the streets looking for a new job. No more coffee runs, though, is one highlight of Robert leaving the country.

“The thing is,” you start, stopping to swallow the lump in your throat.

The pause you take is what is truly going to send you straight to hell because, apparently, within only a few seconds, you are stupid enough.

“The thing is… Robert and I are simply two people who weren’t meant to fall in love… but we did.”

Quoting the man who’s dragged you into this mess, but it seems to put this interrogation on pause. Arthur raises an eyebrow at your words and Robert seemingly relaxes against the chair, despite you not noticing how he had tensed up in the first place. Putting Robert on edge is surely a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Unless…

“You see Arthur, sir. We had to keep our relationship a secret because of my promotion.”

“Promotion?” He asks, squinting at you.

Robert squints as well, though it’s only at his reaction that you have to force yourself not to smile.

“We,” you emphasize the word, gesturing to the two of you. “We both thought that it would be deeply inappropriate to promote my status regarding my referral while we were… well, you know.”

You lean comfortably against your chair, looking over at Robert who has the eyes of a demon itself with how he’s staring you down. He can’t say a word unless he wants to get himself deported. So he sits there, peering at you, and you relish having the say for once.

Arthur clears his throat in an annoyed kind of way, grabbing a pen from the cup holder near the computer monitor on his desk.

“Referral? So you no longer want to work for your fiancé’s business?”

“Actually, with Robert’s approval, my referral would allow me certain benefits still in connection to the company.”

“Right. I see now. I suppose, ” Arthur rubs his brow with his thumb. “And what about your parents? Have you told them about your secret relationship?”

“That’s not possible, both of my parents are dead,” Robert says, his fingers fiddling with the cufflinks on his sleeve. “I have no siblings, either.”

“And what about a—” Arthur flicks through the document in front of him. “P. Browning?”

“He’s a busy man, such as myself. I haven’t been in touch with him for a while.”

Another lie—you had taken his call this morning—but you’re ready to do the same when Arthur directs the question to you, yet you find that Robert keeps ahold of the reins.

“Well, we were going to tell her family this weekend, with it being her Gammie’s ninetieth birthday. We thought it would be a nice surprise for them all.”

That shocks you, sending bells ringing in your head. He remembers that? He was so quick to dismiss you when you had asked about taking the time off before, yet here he speaks every word as if he had been the one to ask.

“Really?” Arthur asks, leaning forward again, ready to write down every word that Robert is about to speak. “And where is this birthday taking place?”

“At her parent’s house,”

“And where exactly is that?”

Caught like his foot is in a bear trap, Robert stills.

“I’m being so rude, talking on her behalf,” he turns to you, smiling. It’s the synthetic smile you know all too well. “It’s your parent’s house. Why don’t you tell him where it is?”

He really doesn’t know how caught in that trap he’s in, but this is only working out more in your favour, and truly this time you cannot help the smile on your lips.

“Sitka.”

Robert waves a hand as if to say, there you have it. You’re preparing yourself to hear that bear trap clamp shut again when you finish, “Alaska.”

“Alask—AH?” Comes Robert’s startled voice, his eyes staring right at you.

Arthur twirls the pen in his hand. “You’re both going to Alaska this weekend?”

“Yes, we are.” You say, your smile a little brighter, eyes focused on Arthur rather than the dissolving businessman to your right.

You knock your foot against Robert’s, just with enough force to wake him back up from the thoughts he’s probably buried himself in.

“We are.”

The chair Arthur sits on creaks when he leans back, only to move forward again and scribble something down on a sticky note with his tongue poking out slightly, looking like a child excitedly drawing with a crayon.

“I see how this is going to happen,” he clicks his tongue. “Have it your way. It’ll probably be the most exciting thing to happen at this job, anyhow. I’ll see you both here, eleven o’clock sharp on Monday morning for your scheduled interviews, and your answers better match up.”

He holds out the sticky note to you, which you take like a ticket number to your place on the criminal registry.

“Enjoy your weekend,” Arthur speaks, which sounds a lot like a statement for the last moments of freedom you’ll enjoy before you’re locked up.

Robert still is too shocked to move, so you pat his shoulder and drive another dagger into his side for fun.

“Come on, pumpkin.”

He stands at that, looking at you over his shoulder before opening the door and catching his arm in the doorway before you can follow him out, clearly not used to being on the receiving end of being bossed around.

You happily walk on ahead of him, not caring to keep the front doors open for him to reach in time, almost slamming shut in his face. That was the one thing you wanted to do this morning and now you got your chance.

Although he halts when he makes it outside, he’s straight back into business mode before you can blink.

“We’ll need to book the tickets straight away if we want to make it to Alaska on time,” he shakes his head, combing his fingers through his hair with a sigh. “I suppose I’ll let you sit with me in first class. Think of it as an early wedding gift. We’ll rearrange my meetings for next week and move around any of my other appointments. Oh and please change out of that awful blouse before this weekend. I am not getting hitched to a cat lady.”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” You say, spinning around and planting your feet into the pavement in front of Robert so that he stops walking. “Were you not in that room?”

“What?” He shrugs, clearly annoyed.

Then it registers, seemingly, with eyebrows raised a fraction.

“You mean about what you said about the promotion? Clever thinking, I’ll admit. He didn’t suspect a thing.”

“I wasn’t kidding, Robert.”

It feels so weird to call him by his first name, but you suppose you’ll have to get used to it, though you don’t want to.

“I’m looking at a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar fine and five years in jail. That changes things.”

“You want me to promote you to oversee part of my company?” He shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Fine. Then I quit and you’re screwed. Bye-bye, Robert. It really was a slice of heaven.”

There’s always Plan B, you think, though you know that even this will put a damper on your plans for the future. You turn on your heel, walking away from him with quick steps, but his voice is quicker, calling out to you before you can get too far.

“Fine! Fine, I’ll promote you,” his shoulders have relaxed some when you turn around, but his face is still tense. “If you do the Alaska weekend with your family and the interview on Monday, I’ll promote you.”

You take a step toward him. “And not in two years, right away.”

“Fine,”

Another step forward. “And you’ll authorize my referral.”

Though he hesitates, he agrees. “Yes, fine.”

“Understand, too, that we’re doing this my way. We will tell my family we’re engaged when I want and how I want, and there will be no canoodling either. Got it?”

Robert presses his lips tightly, watching you with those ice-blue eyes.

“Alright, you have my word.”

“Good,” you say, then smile at him. “Now, ask me nicely.”

He sighs, surely not used to being handled like this. “Ask you nicely, what?”

“Ask me nicely to marry you, Robert.”

His eyes widen as does his mouth, gaping at you. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. On your knee.”

This is far too much fun, you have to admit it to yourself. For the first time, you’re having the upper hand against Robert Fischer and he has no choice but to play along. You mentally tell him that as you stare at him until, finally, he receives the message loud and clear.

“Fine,” he snatches your hand in his, kneeling on the ground and looking up at you, pressing his lips tight again before he lets out a breath. “Will you marry me?”

“No,” your answer almost sends him to his feet again, his fingers pressing into your hand tightly. “Say it like you mean it.”

He grumbles, looking off to the side where people are watching, clearly interested in whatever is going on. When he looks back at you, he’s composed himself a bit.

“Will you do me the highest honour of becoming my wife?”

When you raise your brows at him, he clears his throat.

“Please.”

It’s enough, far more than enough, but you leave him waiting for a moment just for the fun of it. How amusing to see Robert as a person rather than your boss.

“Okay, Robert. I don’t appreciate the sarcasm, but I’ll marry you.”

He sighs in relief, his hold not as tight on your hand anymore. Only now do you pay attention to the fact that this is the first time he’s ever held your hand, and he most like will have to do it more throughout the course of the weekend.

Better start packing.

“I’ll meet you at the airport tomorrow.” You tell him.

Then you tug your hand out of his hold and walk away, leaving him kneeling like an idiot on the pavement for everyone to see.

─────── ⋯ ───────

Robert strolls into the airport with two suitcases, one in each hand, much larger than the carry-on you have at your side. You’re not sure what he has in mind for a weekend with your family by bringing so much, but maybe you can stuff him into one of those to avoid sitting next to him on a plane for six hours.

Though, you barely say a word to each other through customs and even in line, until the plane you sit in flies steady in the air.

Taking out a booklet from your bag now tucked under the seat in front of you, you flick it open to a random page, not exactly caring where as you have already read through this more times than even you believe is necessary, barely getting in much sleep with this semi-permanent decision weighing over you.

“These are the questions Arthur will be asking us when we do our interview,” you tell Robert, who rolls his eyes. “So, which do you want first, the good news or the bad news?”

“Do I look like I care?” He shrugs his shoulders, head leaned back on the cushioned seat.

His jacket was taken by one of the air hostesses, so he sits beside you with his suspenders and tie on display, palms flat on his stomach and linked together. A casual appearance to match his casual attitude. How you so badly want to throttle him. He should care.

“Well, the good news is that I know all of this about you,” you explain, flicking the page over and refraining from shivering at the thought. “Bad news is that you have four days to learn all of this about me, so we should probably start going through it.”

“Give me that,” he mutters, snatching the booklet out of your hand and looking at the page you had open.

He blinks in silence, reading down the page.

“You know the answers to all of these questions about me?”

“Yep,” you say, pronouncing the ‘P’ and looking out of the window, watching the life you’ve devoted yourself to disappear beneath the clouds. “Scary, isn’t it?”

“A little bit,” he affirms, picking a question from the list in front of him. “What was my favourite subject in school?”

“Science,” you turn to face him. “Though you passed your brat course with flying colours.”

“Mm, that’s funny,” he fakes a chuckle. “You’re awfully brave now that we’re out of the office.”

“I’m simply being honest with my fiancé. This wasn’t exactly on my bucket list of things to do before I die.”

“Nor mine,” he lets out a heavy breath, turning the page. “This is a good one, do I have any scars?”

“I’m pretty sure that you have a tattoo,” you point a finger, one he frowns at.

“You’re pretty sure?” His eyebrow cocks up with a challenging tone, and you can’t wait to see it falter when you accept that challenge.

“Two years ago your dermatologist called and asked about a q-switch laser,” you explain. “Which I then, of course, Googled and found that they remove tattoos, but then you cancelled your appointment last minute,”

He turns to look at you with a serious face. Normally, with those eyes of his, you’d back off from whatever you were talking about, but he’s not your boss right now and you’re not as scared of him as you’ve been back in the city.

“What is it?” You poke. “Tribal ink? Wolf face? Maybe Hooter girls?”

“It’s so exciting for me to experience you like this,” he plasters a fake smile, turning back to the booklet.

“Well, you have to get to know me before Monday. Trust me, you don’t know much.”

“I know you as my receptionist. That’s all that matters.”

“Not anymore it doesn’t,”

He grumbles, still eyeing down the page.

You sigh. “You’re going to have to tell me where the tattoo is because he’ll most likely ask.”

“No, I don’t, since we’re done with that question.” He flicks the page over. “Ah, which place do we stay at, yours or mine? Obviously mine.”

“And why wouldn’t we stay at mine?”

“Because I live in a penthouse that overlooks the city,” he states, eyeing you. “You most likely live in some small studio near a boarding school with lace curtains and chipped paint.”

He looks as if he has to hold himself back from chuckling out loud, reading more of the questions in his head.

You wonder how hard it would be to hijack the plane so that you can crash it straight into the ground with only him onboard. Maybe he’ll be nicer on the next flight, seeing as you have to take another plane from Juneau. Though, you don’t tell him that.

It’s a picture you frame in your mind, however, when you board the tiny plane, of his disgruntled face. But, as you hoped, his niceness came in the form of silence, and you don’t have to talk to him once during the flight.

The plane touches down on a runway that leads straight off to the bay, and through the window, you can see your mother and Gammie behind the short fence with a banner in their hand to welcome you home. It’s almost comforting until you remember that Robert is here with you, and he has to pretend to be your fiancé the whole time.

You’re not sure if you have the strength to do this. Keeping quiet from his insults is hard enough, how can you pretend to be engaged without wanting to strangle him every thirty seconds?

You leave Robert with his two suitcases as you step off of the plane steps, raising an arm to wave at your family. They respond by jumping up and down, waving back excitedly. You reach them within a short jog, wrapping your arms around them both.

“It’s so good to see you,” your mother smiles, rubbing her hands up and down your back.

You’ve missed her hugs.

“You too,” you say, giving her a tight squeeze. “Where’s Oriana?”

“Oh, you know your sister,” she pats your arm. “Always working.”

It’s nice to know some things haven’t changed. Oriana hasn’t exactly been your biggest supporter since you moved to the big city, but then she’d hardly be family if she was.

You turn to give Gammie your attention with a kiss on the cheek, telling them how you’ve missed them both. Visits back home are rare under the employment of Robert Fischer, only evident more by the fact that breaking the law is the only thing that got you here.

Speak of the devil, Gammie waves her hands around dramatically.

“So, where’s your man?”

With her gestures, it would seem more like she’s looking for her grandchildren. You turn toward the crowd filing out of the fence gate, spotting Robert with the look of an upset child written all over his face.

“That’s it, right there.” You point him out.

Your mother Gammie both follow your finger, seeing him making his way over to you all. He’s about shaking the ground with how he stomps over with an annoyed attitude that, fortunately enough, only you can pick up on. It seems that the look on his face is taken rather stoically from your family.

“Oh my,” Gammie says. “He’s very good-looking.”

“Gammie,” you say through clenched teeth, feeling yourself heat up a little bit by that comment alone.

Fortunately, Robert is still too far away to hear but is met with your mother’s open arms as she shouts hello. His eyes widen a bit as he takes one step back, shoving his hand into the space between the two, clearly not one accustomed to hugs.

Modestly, your mother shakes his hand, then Gammie. You introduce them both by name, Grace and Annie, watching as Robert nods his head. You don’t doubt that he’ll remember them, he’s good with names.

“I’m so happy to meet you,” Gammie smiles widely. “I’ve been wanting my granddaughter in a relationship for years now. There was a whole ordeal with the last guy—”

“Okay! Fun, fun, fun. No need to talk about that,” you cut her off with a plastered smile, awkwardly shifting the weight on your feet.

Robert’s eyes meet yours where you stand behind both Gammie and your mother, but once again she pipes up with her domesticated eagerness.

“Oh, I’m teasing you, dear,” she pats your hand then turns to Robert. “Now, do you prefer to be called Robert or the king of Hell? We’ve heard it both ways.”

You’re going to shoot yourself point blank. Your Gammie has never been the one to have a filter, but you didn’t expect her to say that. Luckily your mother swoops in with a “she’s kidding” that has Robert nodding his head, and you find some relief in thinking that he believes her.

“Well, um, thank you for allowing me to be a part of this weekend,” he says, finally forming a full sentence, though the ‘um’ puts you on edge as it had back in his office.

“Oh, it’s our pleasure,” says Gammie. “We’re thrilled to have you here. Let’s get you over to the fort, come on.”

“Okay,” he smiles, but it wipes off of his face the second your mother and Gammie turn around.

You roll your eyes at him, wrapping an arm around each of your family members and talking with them over to the truck they have parked down the lane.

Your mother decides on taking the scenic route, it seems, when you all pile into the vehicle. You’re hoping there’d be some amazement on Robert’s face, but he sits hiding behind a pair of sunglasses that looks like he won from the national douche convention.

Man, you really wanted him to hear that one. Something tells you that you’ve got a whole stack of insults just waiting to fire.

When the truck comes to a stop by the dock, you’re the first one outside to swing the suitcases out of the back and onto the concrete. Robert meets you when you have the first one out, tapping your arm. It’s comical how that’s about the most polite thing he’s ever done to you.

“What’s with all of the family businesses?” He asks, and you suck a breath in. “Every shop in town has your surname on it.”

“Oh, nothing,” you shake your head, reaching in to grab the other suitcase, hoping he won’t poke around.

With those sunglasses on his face, you weren’t expecting him to be paying attention to the buildings so closely—each one showing “Paxton” in its name. Sure, he has to get to know you over the weekend for the sake of the interview at the immigration offices, but there are some things you don’t want him to know.

It was probably bound to happen, anyway. So, you suppose there’s no point fretting over it.

Gammie beats him to the punch, having overheard his question. “She’s just being modest, dear.”

“Right,” he smiles at her, then turns back to you. “Shouldn’t we be checking into our hotel right now?”

He seemingly has no appetite for ocean air, with the way he scrunches up his nose when he looks around at the docks. And has no sense of an inside voice, since his sentence does not go unheard by your family.

“Oh, we cancelled your reservation,” your mother calls, swinging her handbag onto her shoulder. “Family doesn’t stay in a hotel. You’ll be staying in our home.”

“Great!” Robert smiles a little too tight, facing you when you drop his suitcase at his feet. “What?”

You ignore his question, already over his outbursts and normal Fischer attitude now that you’re back home. There is no fighting your mom, anyway.

“What did you bring with you, seriously? This weighs a ton,” you slap his shoulder, walking past him. “Lift with your legs.”

When you make it down the path to where your Gammie and mother stand waiting, it’s Gammie who says, “Don’t leave him with all of the bags, dear.”

“I’d love to help, Gammie, but he insists on doing it all himself,” you shake your head, holding back the humorous smile as you watch him grab at his two suitcases. “He’s a real gentleman, you know.”

Both women sigh in awe, walking down the dock. You stand there for a moment, enjoying the scene of Robert struggling to wheel his suitcases over the pebbles and leave him with his struggle as you pass your carry-on to your mother, who loads it into the ski boat tied to the bottom dock.

Finally, Robert catches up, swinging his suitcase around. You take them from his hold, passing them down. Though, one of them gets stuck on the wood and topples into the water.

“Sunken treasure!” You shout, cupping your hand around your mouth like an amplifier, watching your mother fish into the water to grab the suitcase before it can go under.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it!” She calls out.

“Do you know how much that suitcase costs?” Robert asks furiously, scampering to your side as if he could have grabbed it from where he stands.

“Ah, you’re a rich man. You can always buy another one. Nothing a hairdryer won’t fix.”

As you step down the ladder, he hisses for your attention.

“I’m not getting on that boat,”

“Fine, you don’t have to. See you in a few days,” and you continue to climb down the ladder until he hisses for you again. “What’s wrong, Robert?”

“I don’t like the water. I can’t swim.”

“Hence, the boat.”

You drop down onto the bottom dock, grinning up at Robert when his brows furrow at watching how it rocks from side to side.

“Come on, pumpkin.” You wave him over.

He turns to the side, arms crossed. It’s funny to be dealing with this childlike side to Robert as opposed to his usual downbeat attitude. Not even a day into the weekend and you’ve seen Robert show some colour, so to speak.

Looking around at your Gammie and mom, you raise a hand to tell them that this won’t take too long.

“Let’s go,” you call up to him.

Gradually, he makes his way to the top of the ladder, clutching hold of the sides and putting a shaky leg onto one step. He stops for a moment, the wind picking up slightly and waving the bottom of his suit coat—something you still think unbelievable for him to wear here. Do casual clothes not exist in the Fischer universe? Then he steps down one more, then another until he stops again when one more step is a little further down than the others.

“Here,” you sigh, walking over to him and placing a hand on his hip, which shifts lower when he goes to move again, though unintentionally.

“Get your hand off of my ass,” he snaps, moving again when you pull your hand away quickly.

No protests here. Robert’s got one of those flat butts that rich men all have. Truly, you’ve never wanted to cup a feel and it really was just a slip of your hand. Whatever he thinks, though, you couldn’t care less about.

It only takes him another nine hours to finally reach the bottom, planting two feet onto the dock and holding onto the ladder for dear life when it sways.

“Congratulations. I’m nine hundred years old.” You tell him, reaching for his arm.

He pulls away from your hand. “Shut up,”

You can’t help but chuckle, walking behind him as he steps into the boat and grumpily sits down on the cushioned seat around the sides.

“You better give him that,” you tell your mother, pointing over to the life vest that hangs on the wall.

She takes it off the hook, approaches Robert and hands it to him.

“I didn’t know you were afraid of the water, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he grumbles, taking the life vest from her hands and sliding it on with some difficulty.

This is going to be the longest weekend of your life, but that scene was so worth it.

You’ve never seen Robert anywhere outside of the office building unless you had to tag along to a meeting in the city or attend one of the big company dinners each year. It was all class, all luxury. Here he looks like a fish out of water. A grumpy one, too, with how he sits with a frown, cheeks pushed up a bit as the life vest puffs out.

The ride out to where your house is doesn’t take long, and you see the stretch of land as you come around the corner of a rocky bay. You haven’t set foot here in years, let alone seen it.

Home sweet home is an understatement, you think, when your mother says the words. It seems that Robert feels a different way when you hear him groan. You turn around, thinking he is going to be sick off of the side of the boat, but instead his eyes are focused on your house.

“That is your home?”

Douchebag, through and through. You’re lucky that Gammie doesn’t say a word, especially when you see her look off to the side with a bleak face.

For a moment the frustration toward Robert is put on a standstill, seeing her react that way. Maybe she said she was teasing before, but she honestly has wanted nothing more than for you to be in a stable relationship and give her grandchildren one day. She must be the most disappointed Gammie in the world thinking that you’re attached to a snob. Perhaps he is, but some part of you had hoped that he would behave more courteously in front of your family.

When the boat reaches the port, with everyone stepping onto the dock one by one, you pull Robert to the side by the life vest, which he isn’t prepared for with the way his arms flare out as if he is going to fall face first onto the timber.

“What is wrong with you?” It’s a shouted whisper, as discreetly as you can make it, tugging at the straps of the vest he was struggling with.

“What are you talking about?” He asks, furrowing his brows that disappear behind his sunglasses.

“This is my home and those are my family, okay? Treat them with respect.”

You push open the clips, yanking the life vest off of Robert’s shoulders. He yelps in surprise, stumbling backwards.

“Come on, you two!” Calls your mother, already halfway down the port.

You stand there with your eyes still set on Robert, and he nods his head.

“Alright, fine.”

“Good,” you leave him with his suitcases again, this time waiting for him to pass by you before you start walking.

But then he randomly stops ahead of you, almost making you knock straight into the back of him.

“Answer me this, though. Why didn’t you tell me that you’re rich?”

“I’m not rich,” you sigh, shrugging your carry-on onto your shoulder. “My parents are rich.”

“That’s what all rich people say,”

“You’re one to talk, Mr Fischer.”

He goes to open his mouth, ready to bite back your words, but you’re far too exhausted to dive into a verbal fight right now, so instead, you just nudge the back of his suitcase.

“Come on, my Gammie is walking faster than you.”

Robert grumbles at that but continues walking regardless. You have to be his safety net a few times, though, when he almost falls on the stairs that lead up to the front porch.

You’re ready for the bliss of walking through the door and falling onto the first couch you see, but as soon as you and Robert step through your mother has a hand gripped tightly on each of your arms and is leading you both over to the kitchen.

“Sit, sit. I’ll make us some tea.”

“I’m alright, thank you.” Says Robert, and the politeness is understandably there because he wants some time away from everyone just the same as you.

“You’ve had a long journey,” she’s got four sets of tea cups already on the kitchen counter, the kettle in hand as she fills it with water at the sink. “We need to catch up.”

“Oh yes,” says Gammie, slowly making her way to one chair and sitting like a child who’s ready for a bedtime story. “We only hear from you every so often, dear. There’s so much I want to know. Tell us about your man!”

That has you chuckling, looking over at Robert who’s pulling out a seat for himself, seemingly getting used to the protests of your family. You take the seat next to him, watching as your mother heats the water on the stove.

“We have all weekend to catch up.” You say, fiddling with your hands.

“And only the weekend to get to know Robert,” smiles your mother, pouring the water into each tea cup and placing them on the table. “We’ve only known him as Mr Fischer. I think it’s about time we hear more.”

“I’m afraid I’m quite boring,” Robert speaks up, pushing his sunglasses onto this head, startling you that he said something to begin with, let alone that it’s polite.

“Oh, don’t be so modest.” Gammie waves a hand. “We’re all family here.”

How on the nose your Gammie is about that one, even though she doesn’t know it yet. Would now be a good time to let the penny drop? Over tea and biscuits can’t possibly be that terrible of a way to tell them, though there’s a tension the size of a rock stuck in the middle of your throat.

“What drew you in about my granddaughter, hmm?”

Gammie has eyes shining like crystal glasses and you just hope that whatever Robert chooses to say next doesn’t shatter them.

He holds a hand up when your mother offers him the sugar, and it interests you to know that he takes his tea without it just as he does his coffee.

“She’s a hard worker,” he says, finger curled around the handle of the teacup. “She takes her job seriously. I can’t say that for many of my employees.”

You’re waiting for the punchline, watching his face for any sign of comedy. He doesn’t chime in with anything more, though, and takes a sip of his tea.

“That’s my girl,” smiles your mother.

Gammie smiles too, then teases. “It’s because she’s so pretty, isn’t it?”

You try to protest but your Gammie doesn’t let you stop her. Robert shifts in his seat, turning to look at you as if he’s trying to take what your Gammie said seriously. It’s like he’s looking for the word “pretty” to be written clearly on your forehead so that he can agree.

Instead, he just looks. Silently.

“Well, of course, he thinks she’s pretty,” your mother smiles. “Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.”

That’s not the reason, but you can’t find the courage to say it.

“The weekend is hardly a visit, though,” she continues. “Why can’t you stay longer? I’m sure you could have swayed your boss.”

The insinuation hangs in the air by the mere mention of it, though Robert remains silent still.

“We have a lot of work to do, mom,” you say, pushing the handle of your teacup so that it spins in its saucer. “I’m just glad I could be here for Gammie’s birthday.”

She smiles, shaking her head. “Oh, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“Still,” your mother sighs. “I wish I could see you more.”

You sit back in your seat, looking around so as not to work yourself up with the fact that ever since you got the job at Fischer-Murrow, you’ve hardly seen your family.

“Where’s dad?”

“Working,” your mother replies. “He’ll be home soon.”

“What’s the matter, sweetie?” Gammie asks, reaching over to take your hand. “You seem nervous.”

Obviously, she’s referring to the way you have been drumming your fingers against the table. You had hoped that everyone would be home so that you could drop the news to them all at once and as soon as possible, too. Even though you have entertained the idea to tell them right before you get on the return flight.

“Well, it’s just…” suddenly your throat goes dry, and you take a sip of your tea. “I have something to tell you.”

Your mother Gammie perk up, waiting for you to tell them what’s on your mind. You’re now suddenly hyper-aware of Robert sitting next to you, who has done nothing but drink his tea in silence.

Regarding your history with your father, though, maybe now is better than when he’s in the room for you to tell them the earth-shattering news.

“Robert and I,” you start, giving him a quick look which he raises his eyebrows at. “We’re in this sort of situation.”

“Situation?” Your mother repeats, and you can feel Robert’s shoe pressing up against yours.

“Yes, well, we’ve only got the weekend because of our plans back in the city.”

“About work?”

“No… about us.”

Gammie turns to look at your mother, and you feel ready to explode.

“Oh?” She hums, a hand on yours, giving it a quick squeeze. “Come on, dear. Don’t keep us waiting.”

With how your throat keeps drying up, you’re not sure if you’re ever going to tell them, but you have to bite the bullet. You’ve already got their attention, so now’s as good a time as any.

“We’re—”

Before you can say a single word more, there’s a knock at the door. It seems that your mother and Gammie are expecting it as they both react to it like the thought had skipped their mind.

“Oh, I’ll get it,” your mother says, pushing back her chair.

She rushes over to the door and from where the kitchen is, you can hear the commotion as she answers it. There’s a handful of voices and in the midst of it you can pick up the words “We hope we’re not late.”

Late? For what?

“Gammie,” you inquire, squeezing her hand some. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing,” she smiles, brushing your hand gently. “Just a small party, that’s all.”

“What?”

The word comes out at the same time as Robert, who slams his teacup in its saucer as he looks at your Gammie with wide eyes.

“Just fifty of our closest relatives and neighbours,” she says happily. “They’ll all love to meet you, Robert.”

Right because only fifty was the smallest amount she could have asked for.

Why doesn’t your Gammie just aim a gun at your head and pull the trigger? This isn’t what either you or Robert planned for, though there wasn’t much to the planning to begin with.

It’s not just lying to your family now, it’s lying to the friends and neighbours who all are going to hear about your engagement. The one that’ll be broken off the minute you set foot back in New York City.

This is going terribly. You’re now much more than the innocent person you once were with a criminal standing behind your family’s back and Robert has to meet every single one of them before your Gammie’s birthday party, which you had mentally prepared yourself for. Now all of that is thrown out of the window.

There’s another knock at the door and Gammie rushes off to answer it this time, leaving behind a pocket full of nerves that you can easily share between yourself and Robert.

This weekend was supposed to be quiet. Now, there are even more hearts to break.

Robert squeezes your arm when it’s just the two of you, visibly hanging on by a thread.

“A party?”

The tone in his voice is upset, sour on the tip of it, but there’s no stopping what’s already happened.

“I guess so,” you shrug, sighing in defeat. “Come on, we better get out there.”

“This is just terrific,” he grumbles, dragging his attitude out of the kitchen with him.

With all that’s already happened and with all else on its way, that is an understatement of the century. It seems that neither of you took into account how fast plans can change.

A/N: whoop whoop! Thank you all for your super kind comments so far. I really love hearing from you. We’re getting into the party next chapter. Y’all know what that means ;)

Wedding divider credit: firefly-graphics

#robert fischer x reader #robert fischer imagine #robert fischer imagines #robert fischer #cillian murphy #cillian murphy character #inception fanfic #inception fic #inception imagine #:a deal in matrimony

158 notes · View notes

saltandanchor · 1 year

Text

Paper Things Ch 23

Here it is

I hope you enjoy it. x

#paper things #arthur x eames #arthur/eames #inception #inception fic

12 notes · View notes

helloamhere · 2 years

Text

A Pandemonium Of Pilots (17k) by HelloAmHere Arthur/Eames (Inception), Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Space, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, oxygen problems, Breathplay, Angst, Con Artists

Summary: “And what is a group of pilots called, then?” Arthur asks, because sometimes Arthur just has to ask things, even when it’s bad for him and he knows he’s about to be lied to.

Especially when it’s bad for him, especially with Eames looking at him. Eames is going to lie and Arthur is just going to let him. It’s easier to breath, somehow, when Eames is the one doing the lying.

“A pandemonium, darling,” Eames says. “Like parrots.”

// I’m at the Inception Regency AU. I’m at the Inception Space Pirate AU. I’m at the combination Inception Regency Space Pirate AU.

I ended up being a little proud of this one!

#my fic #my writing #a pandemonium of pilots #inception fic #the result of looking at too much tom hardy #this started as a joke and I ended up liking it a lot #delightful to finish some fic again #thriving in ancient fandoms #helloamhere #me ancient and creaking trying to write about sex again

22 notes · View notes

nana-41175 · 1 year

Link

Author’s Notes: Oh, hey there! I recently got to watch Inception and promptly got sucked into the gorgeous dynamic between Arthur and Eames. Very happy to be coming into this fandom (even though I'm more than a decade late) and very lucky to have a good friend, @stormofsharpthings, to discuss and giggle over all sorts of situations and things. This little snippet came about from a conversation we had a few days ago. The Muse just thought it amusing to lend a Halloween twist to things. Thanks so much, darlin Storm! Happy Halloween and stay safe, everyone!

Excerpt:

Arthur eyed him dubiously for perhaps the hundredth time since he slipped into his disguise. “Are you sure you’ll be able to take her as far as the balcony in that? I mean, you did go over the videos I sent you?”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Eames sighed. “Even without the K-pop façade, I daresay I can make any little vampire do my bidding with just my pheromones alone. We all know your lot’s affinity with buck werewolves. You just can’t help it. I’m catnip to you.”

It was a cheap shot but one worth making as it punched a startled laugh out from Arthur.

“I’d expect a little reward after this,” Eames pressed on while he had the advantage. “After having to put up with your doubts even at this stage of our acquaintance.”

Arthur smirked. “We’ll see.”

Buy the Muse some ko-fi to show her some love (and to make her write faster!) ^_~

#inception fic #my fic #arthur/eames

15 notes · View notes

rabbitdarling · 1 year

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Inception (2010) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception) Characters: Arthur (Inception), Eames (Inception), Original Characters Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Getting Together, Not Beta Read, Tattoos Summary:

There's a lot hidden beneath Arthur's suits and it's been years since anyone of importance has seen his secrets; not since Mal. All it takes is a failed job and an unwanted dunk in a river to lead him to a new beginning. To end the chase that's been on going for too long that in his insecurity he hadn't figured out how to end it.

Thankfully the end found him.

(Original Title: Remember don't scratch...)

#Rabbit writes #inception fic #dream husbands #arthur/eames #Fic: Somewhere Down the Road

8 notes · View notes

dingdangit · 2 years

Text

Question for other Inception fic authors: do you capitalize dreamshare-specific words? Like, would you write Extraction or extraction? Point Man, or point man? Etc etc. Either way, do you have a reason?

#inception #inception fic #arthur x eames #bc i am starting a new a/e WIP and im overthinking everything #linz originals

5 notes · View notes

coldcomfortflowers · 2 months

Text

podfic post!

ao3 link: here

hosted on audiofic archive: here

#my podfic #ae #inception #inception fic #inception podfic #arthureames #arthurxeames #dream husbands

0 notes

floralcyanide · 9 months

Text

𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 - 𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐲

cillian murphy x f!eader (nsfw)

In which your breeding kink comes to light and causes a night full of undying pleasure with your boyfriend, Cillian.

warnings: smut, breeding kink, nipple play, kind of mentions the idea of breastfeeding (not by Cillian lol), biting, choking, unprotected sex, p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), pussy slapping, dirty talk, fingering, tongue-fucking

word count: 2039

author’s note: warning I didn't read this after I wrote it so if it flows weird or has repetition or anything, I'm sorry lol I just needed to post this for ya'll!! please reblog/ like or comment if you enjoyed it, I love feedback < 3

main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

Your head is in CIllian’s lap, his fingers carding through your hair gently as the two of you watch a movie. The lighting is dim, candles are lit throughout the living room, and an almost empty bottle of wine sits on the coffee table. You’ve got a slight buzz, and Cillian’s massaging of your scalp is making you dizzier. Kids run and play in the movie you’re watching, and suddenly, a thought pops into your head and comes straight out of your mouth.

“I want kids someday.”

You freeze, holding your breath for Cillian’s response.

You feel a hum rumble through your boyfriend as he continues to play in your hair, “Really?”

“Yeah,” you say, rolling over on your back so your face was toward the ceiling, “I mean, maybe.”

“It’s life-changing. It can be rough, but it’s a beautiful experience raising children,” Cillian admits, looking down at you.

The thought of mothering Cillian’s children sends chills across your body and warmth in your belly. You know he’s probably content with his two sons and couldn’t possibly want more children, but the mere idea of him cumming in you with a purpose turns you on. You have a breeding kink but have yet to bring it up to Cillian, as it’s a risky type of kink. Even though the two of you are in a committed and established relationship, neither of you has ever brought up the topic of having kids together. And going through with the breeding aspect of the kink entails the possibility of pregnancy. At this point in your partnership, though, you don’t bother using protection anymore as you trust each other wholeheartedly. Birth control is still used, however. You don’t have to have kids, of course, but the carnal need to be filled up by someone you love deeply is thrilling to think about.

“I know you’re well past wanting any more kids,” you say, looking Cillian in his enthralling eyes, “So it’s not something I think about too often.”

“I’m open to the idea, but if this is something you really want, we should definitely discuss it,” Cillian says, tracing his thumb along your jawline.

“It’s more or so the process of having kids that has always intrigued me,” you purse your lips, trying to think of how to get your desires across to him.

“You mean sex?” Cillian chuckles, “This sure is an interesting way of asking.”

You roll your eyes, smacking his stomach lightly, “Yes, but that’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?”

You sit upright, moving over to straddle CIllian’s lap before grabbing his face and kissing him deeply.

Pulling an inch away from his lips, you press yourself into him, “I want you to fuck a baby into me.”

“But-”

“I want you to breed me like an animal in heat,” you whisper, dragging your thumb across Cillian’s bottom lip, “Fill me up with your cum.”

Cillian clears his throat, “I think I know what you’re hinting at here.”

“And?” you search his eyes for any inkling of distaste.

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, my love,” Cillian shakes his head, snaking his arms around your waist as he stands up.

You wrap your arms and legs around him as he kisses you again, teeth clashing against yours. He nearly bumps you into the wall on the way to the bedroom, but you’re too focused on the feeling of Cillian’s mouth and his tongue lapping yours to really care. Finally arriving in the bedroom, Cillian drops you on the bed on your back, dragging you to the edge of the mattress by your ankles. You let out a squeal as he does so, giddiness shrouding you. The bedroom basks in soft light from the nightstand lamp, bringing out Cillian’s taut facial features. He focuses his weight on his hands, which are pressed into the bed at the sides of your head. He hovers over you, his icy blue eyes now darker around his blown pupils.

“A breeding kink, hmm?” Cillian smirks, leaning into your ear, “That’s hot. Good thing I’m into it as well.”

Shivers promptly cover your body in goosebumps as Cillian nips the shell of your left ear, sliding his tongue across your earlobe before taking it into his mouth. He bites it gently before pressing his lips to where your jaw meets your neck, cascading kisses along your skin. Your arms find themselves wrapped around Cillian’s shoulders as he travels to your neck with his searing lips. He then bites and sucks bruises on the column of your throat, marking you as his. Removing your sleep shirt, Cillian finds you have already shed your bra at some point in the evening. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip as he stares at your breasts, eyes hungry for you. Cillian then puts all his weight onto your abdomen, moving both his hands from around your head to grasp at your chest. He caresses his index fingers over your nipples, exhaling a satisfied laugh when they perk up immediately. Cillian dives his head down, taking your right nipple between his lips and slowly flicking his tongue across the sensitive bud. You groaned, unable to squeeze your legs together for friction as Cillian’s chest was between them. The other nipple is being lightly pinched, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. He continues focusing on your breasts, gradually getting rougher and harder with twists and bites.

“Wanna see your beautiful tits swollen with milk,” Cillian mutters, leaving bite marks on the skin around your areola.

His words cause you to become wetter, your hips involuntarily thrusting into Cillian’s, “Fuck, Cill.”

He massages your breasts, squeezing them and pushing them upward as he plays with your nipples.

“Need you to touch me, please,” you whine, your chest becoming sensitive.

Cillian moves down to your stomach, kissing and swirling his tongue around your belly button, “Gonna make your stomach nice and big with my baby.”

Cillian pulls down your lounge pants, tossing them to the floor. He grabs your hips, his thumbs anchoring you to the mattress as his breath fans across your damp underwear.

“So wet for me already? Ready to take me and let me fill you up?” Cillian nips at the skin of your thighs, his eyes not moving from yours.

“Yes,” you whimper, unable to wiggle your hips from his grip on them, “Need you inside me.”

“Need to prep you first, love,” Cillian kisses the wet spot of your underwear before pulling them off.

His tongue licks a fat stripe from your entrance to your swollen bundle of nerves, his beautiful lips encircling it as he lightly sucks it between his teeth. You can’t help but let out a deep moan at the contact, impatiently wishing he’d fuck you with either his fingers or his cock already. But of course, Cillian loves to tease and take all you have to offer before giving you what you want. He releases your clit, now focusing on your soaking entrance as he laps up your arousal there, pushing his tongue inside you. Cillian moves your hips upward so his tongue delves deeper into you, causing your toes to curl. Suddenly, a finger slides in underneath his tongue, exploring your g spot. You tremble at the feeling as pleasure courses through your veins. Then, Cillian adds another digit as he begins to fuck you with his fingers and tongue simultaneously. You thrust your hips as his free hand guided you to mercilessly ride his tongue and two middle fingers. You can feel the pressure of an orgasm creeping up on you, but you don’t want to cum yet.

“I need you inside of me,” you struggle to speak, your mind cloudy with lust.

Cillian slowly removes himself from your needy pussy, and you can feel yourself clench around nothing. He takes off his shirt, followed by his lounge pants and underwear. His length is hard against his stomach, leaking and ready for you.

“On your hands and knees, darling,” Cillian orders, and you hurry to the top of the bed, hugging a pillow as you lean down and jut your ass in the air.

Cillian flattens his hand on your shoulder blades, running his palm along your spine until it reaches your ass, where he gently squeezes. He spreads you open with both hands and your arousal glistens in the moody light of the bedroom.

“Soaked and ready for this cock, huh?” Cillian pushes your back down even further until your chest and abdomen are flush with the bed.

“Yes, sir,” you say, quivering with anticipation.

Cillian aligns himself with your core, sliding his head along your wetness, gathering enough for him to push in slowly without struggle. Your walls clench around him tightly as he inches into you. Finally, Cillian’s hips are against your ass, and he pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in.

“Fuck,” you sneer, fingernails digging into the pillow.

“Taking me so well,” Cillian grunts, slamming into you again, “Gonna slam my cock into your womb and fill it up with my cum.”

You whine into the pillowcase as his rhythm increases, your body rutting into the mattress. Suddenly, a slap lands on your cunt, causing you to jolt and clench harder around Cillian’s length.

“That feel good?” Cillian leans over you, his face now next to yours, “You’re so wet, I can feel you gushing around me.”

You moan loudly into the pillow as he pounds into your cervix, his head dragging along your g spot flawlessly with every thrust. Cillian slaps your clit over and over with the same rhythm as his thrusts, making you cry out. He grabs a fistful of your hair as he sits back up, pulling your head from the safety of the plush pillow.

“I wanna hear you, sweetheart. I wanna hear you take my cock like the cum-hungry slut you are,” Cillian says, pulling your hair harshly.

“God, fuck,” you scream as he thrusts particularly deep inside you, “I’m your slut. I need you to cum in me, Cill. So bad,” you whimper.

His pace becomes relentless, his hips snapping into your asscheeks forcefully as he takes you from behind. But he then pulls out, lets go of your hair, and flips you over on your back, and you nearly scream from frustration at the sudden emptiness. Cillian wastes no time pulling your legs onto his shoulders and rentering you, grabbing your hips and pulling them forward so he can fuck you as deep as possible. He slaps your sensitive and red clit again, over and over, before reaching his hand around your neck. He squeezes the sides of your throat, dizzying you as he slams his cock into your cervix almost violently. You were definitely going to be sore tomorrow.

“I’m gonna cum,” you gasp as Cillian grasps your breasts, harshly pulling and twisting your hard nipples.

“Do you want me to finish fucking this baby into you? Gonna milk my cock as you cum and feel me fill you up to the brim> Is that what you want?”

“Yes, please! Please, fuck, fill me up, Cillian. I need you so bad,” you moan, throwing your head back.

“Fuck,” Cillian growls, snapping his hips up, hitting you at a new and delicious angle.

It doesn’t take long for you to orgasm, as Cillian gives you one last particularly harsh slap to your clit before rubbing it vigorously. He soon follows with his own, his warm seed filling you as your walls milk him for every drop. Cillian runs his hand down your body until he pulls out, arousal and cum seeping out of you. He gathers some on his fingers before shoving them into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his digits, tasting a hint of yourself mixed with CIllian’s cum.

“Did you want me to take my pill tonight?” you say after catching your breath and letting Cillian collapse beside you.

“Only if you want to,” he says, “But I think we’d have a beautiful child.”

You chuckle before rolling on your side and tossing your arm over his warm chest, “That we would.”

taglist:

@baizzhu @aporiasposts @queenshelby @hjmalmed @amanda08319 @naty-1001 @orijanko @raineeace

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x reader smut #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x you smut #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x y/n smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #oppenheimer #oppenheimer 2023 #red eye #inception #floralcyanide writes

2K notes · View notes

your-nanas-house · 4 months

Text

Fuck...ing mommy

◇ Pairing: Robert Fisher X Stepmom!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”Mhmmm.” He hummed softly.

Taglist:

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

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

388 notes · View notes

arosewrites · 4 months

Text

Title: killer, thriller Chapters: 1/2 Words: 3,214 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception), Ariadne & Arthur (Inception)

Summary:

“Sorry,” Ariadne says, wrinkling her nose at the formerly undead corpses littering the floor around them, “I thought this place looked safe.” Arthur looks around, at the ominous bloodstains smeared across the walls and splattered over the toppled shelves of the convenience store they have taken refuge in. He’s relatively certain too that most of the stains were there before they reintroduced their would-be ambushers to death. “Safe,” he repeats dryly.

Finally posting a new fic after a year and a half! I originally started writing this for @inceptionbingo 2021 (lol) but, uh, better late than never?

#some day i'll finish my big bang fic from 2022 #i promise i haven't forgotten about it #inception #inception fic #inception bingo #arthur x eames #dreamhusbands #fanfic #rose creates

17 notes · View notes

slut4thebroken · 9 months

Text

Cillian Murphy characters tumblr fic recs

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Smut - no emoji

No smut - 🚫

Fluff - ✨

Angst - 🖤

Dark content - ❗️ (noncon elements)

Personal favorites - 💕

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

my masterlist

tumblr fic rec masterlist

Updated: 10/25/23

༺˚ʚ Favorite Writers ɞ˚༻

@mypoisonedvine @lovelybucky1 @pinguwrites @kiss-me-cill-me @ilovefictionalpsychopaths @mysaintkitten @scorpiussage

༺˚ʚ Jonathan Crane ɞ˚༻

Drabble: Dr. Crane helps a patient with a fear of being penetrated

thoughtless❗️

gemini ❗️+ jackson rippner

༺˚ʚ Jackson Rippner ɞ˚༻

Subway Groper

“I wanted him to see what I’m going to do to you.”❗️💕

Drabble: Jackson has fun while waiting for a ransom❗️

༺˚ʚ Robert Fischer ɞ˚༻

just business (sub!robert fischer x dominatrix!reader)

༺˚ʚ Thomas Shelby ɞ˚༻

Equal

Treat Me Wrong

Nectar

༺˚ʚ Robert Capa ɞ˚༻

Can’t Focus❗️

Touch starved dark!Capa❗️

#Cillian Murphy characters masterlist #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #scarecrow #scarecrow x reader smut #robert fischer #robert fischer x reader #Robert Fischer smut #inception #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner #Jackson rippner smut #red eye #fic recs

208 notes · View notes

helloamhere · 2 years

Text

A bitch is writing fanfic again but only in fandoms over a decade old

#living my best life #inception fic #please feel welcome to yell me into finishing the last chapter

9 notes · View notes

dareduffie · 6 days

Text

arthureames university au.

they live in dorms. they are roommates. arthur wants to graduate summa cum laude. eames wants to have sex with his roommate. these are both very difficult goals to achieve.

eames is majoring in anthropology and minoring in sociology

all of his electives are languages

arthur is majoring in something awful like finance or business

or perhaps Computer Information Systems which is apparently something that exists

arthur assumes eames is a slacker because he's always lounging around their dorm but eames has a 4.0 gpa

eames assumes lots of things about arthur every single day and he tells arthur about each and every one of them

which is annoying not only because it's hard to study with eames yapping in his ear but also because eames is always correct

eames makes it a personal goal to sleep with arthur before arthur graduates (he is set to graduate two years early)

arthur of course decides to kiss eames the moment his commencement ceremony is over

but really. the guy was taking like 8 courses a semester. how was he supposed to have a sex life in those conditions

arthur liked eames from day 1 but he actively chose not to because if he started sleeping with his roommate he would never get anything done

eames meanwhile flirts with arthur for an entire semester before realizing he genuinely has a crush on the guy

shortly after moving in with each other, eames makes some off-hand reference to some obscure art movement, effortlessly and correctly relating it to a book he read recently

arthur nearly breaks his pencil from the strain of not walking over, sitting on eames' lap, and tearing his clothes off

eames thinks arthur hates him but the truth is that arthur is shoving his feelings down so hard that the man is vibrating on a constant basis

#to think this au started with me just thinking This Arthur With This Eames #i spiralled #more oblivious eames in fics please #inception #arthur and eames #arthureames #arthur/eames #eathur #dream husbands #arthur #eames

57 notes · View notes

ficsilike-reblogged · 8 months

Text

A Lonely Heaven

Summary: The five times Robert gave you something and the one time he took. Pairing: Soft Dark!Robert Fischer/F!Reader Word Count: 7.2k A/N: Written for Day Three’s prompt from the Haunted Hoedown Challenge Hosted by inklore and psychedelic-ink. Today’s prompt was “inspired by your favorite Lana del Rey song + yandere.” The song I chose was “Say Yes to Heaven.” I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Gaslighting, isolation, drugging, kidnapping, general unhinged behavior, smut (unprotected sex, female receiving oral, fingering), reader calls him Bobby for reasons, minor character death (not described) ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED

Robert just needed a minute. Just a minute to breathe before the next meeting with men and women he’d rather never see again. But he was heir to the empire. He had a reputation to uphold and a company to run.

But still, he just needed a moment.

He slipped into the blessedly empty break room just down the hall and stared at the coffee maker for a moment. He didn’t need coffee. He didn’t need anything that the break room could provide except silence-

“Hey, I’m sorry, can I get to the coffee? If I don’t get my boss a refill, I’m fired.”

Robert turned at the sound of soft if not frazzled voice and saw you. He expected to see you flinch at the sight of him before apologizing—most people did when they spotted him. But not you. There wasn’t an ounce of recognition on your face.

You didn’t know who he was.

Robert stepped out of the way with an apology of his own and you were quick to fill up an abnormally large coffee cup with a faded company logo on the side. You also dumped three things of creamer into it and half a packet—exactly—of sugar. Robert must have been staring because you glanced at him over your shoulder with a small smile. “First day?”

“No. But I don’t think I’ve been in this particular break room before.” It was technically not a lie. He only knew of the room’s existence because he’d been shuffled by it each time he had a meeting in the conference room down the hall. He didn’t have to come in here. People brought him coffee. He didn’t get it himself.

You nodded. “I prefer the one on 12. They have better snacks.” You paused, drumming your fingers against the mug. “You look a little out of it. You okay?”

That was probably the first time this year that someone had asked about him. It was just a simple thing, really. “I’m fine. Thank you.” Your head cocked to the side, like you didn’t believe him but you still held your hand out to him with an offer of your name. Despite the coffee you held, your hand was cold as Robert took it. “I’m Robert.”

Your answering smile twisted behind his ribs. “Anyone ever call you ‘Bobby?’”

A sharp laugh punched out of him and he watched your smile widen. “No. No, never.”

“Well, if I ever see you again, we’ll have to try it out.” Again, you drummed your fingers on the mug. “It was nice to meet you. I hope your day gets better.” Then you were gone and Robert watched your hips sway until you disappeared, unknowingly taking his heart with you.

**1**

You hadn’t been the most sociable person when you took the job at Fischer Morrow. Actually, you could count the friends you’d made on two pathetic fingers and even then you knew they were hardly more than casual acquaintances. Moving to Australia was supposed to be a new start but instead it was the loneliness you had been running from compounded. Sure, you were paid decently. Your apartment was fine. But your boss was a dick and you weren’t even using your degree to fetch coffee and answer a phone.

God, you were lonely.

You picked at your sandwich as you sat in the park just on the opposite side of the street from Fischer Morrow’s building. There was a couple playing with their son under the shade of the tree. There was a small gaggle of women from the accounting department walking together around the perimeter, having traded their sensible heels for trainers. Then there was a small group of teenagers, probably skipping school, a little further into the park. They all looked happy and you continued to pick at your sandwich until it was just a mangle of bread, tomato, and cheese.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

Your head snapped to the side to see Robert standing at the edge of the bench you occupied, holding a small paper bag. “O-of course! Please do!” You hadn’t seen him in weeks. Of course, it was an absurdly large building with a matching number of employees. It shouldn’t have been surprising that you didn’t see him again. But you had kept his pretty blue eyes and sharp features in the back of your mind anyway. Your lonely heart leapt when he settled beside you.

“Haven’t seen you in awhile,” he started, pulling a sandwich of his own from the bag.

“They keep me busy. And you? Did you find the good snacks on twelve?” You winced as soon as you asked. Your conversation skills were abysmal. It was honestly surprising that he wanted to sit anywhere near you after your awkward conversation weeks prior but you weren’t about to tell him to go away.

He nodded with a smile. “Yeah, thanks for the tip.”

You smiled, too, but it felt a little stilted and you turned your attention back to your mangled sandwich.

“You’re in IT, aren’t you?”

Your fingers stalled their shredding and you glanced at Robert for a moment. “What gave it away? Most people think I’m in Logistics.”

Robert shrugged but his smile remained. “Do you like what you do?”

You snorted and popped a bit of your sandwich into your mouth. “I got this job because I have a masters degree in my field and I’m fetching coffee and answering phones like a secretary. But it’s fine. It pays the bills.” You grimaced as soon as you finished. You never knew how to say the right thing; it was why you preferred staying quiet. You should know better than to sound ungrateful. “But, um, what about you? Do you like what you do?”

“It pays the bills.”

“What department are you in, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Robert’s sandwich froze just in front of his mouth before he cleared his throat. “I work for the Board.” He then quickly stuffed his sandwich into his mouth.

“Oh, you poor soul. That’s got to be so stressful. No wonder you looked so out of it when we met.” Then it was your turn to freeze again. “That was so rude, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “No, no it’s all right. It isn’t great, you’re right. But I’m thankful for it anyway.” He was quiet again as he took another bite and you felt a tiny bit of tension slip from your shoulders. Maybe he was as lonely as you were. “Who’s your supervisor?”

“It’s Reynolds. Why?”

“No reason. He’s the guy with the,” he waved a hand at his neck, “right?”

“Neckbeard. Yeah. That’s him. Very particular about his coffee.”

Robert hummed but didn’t say anything else for a stretched moment. Perhaps he liked the quiet like you, too. “You think they’re skipping class?” He asked, tipping his head toward the teenagers.

You laughed. A big belly laugh. That wasn’t what you were expecting him to say. “Oh, definitely.” And the conversation was easier from that point on. You spoke about your favorite cafe downtown and he suggested a running path he was fond of along the coast after you mentioned that your “favorite” treadmill at your gym broke. Was it earth shattering conversation? No. But it lessened the ache in your chest.

As you packed up your lunches, noting the time and how your lunch hour was nearing its end, Robert turned to you with a small smile on his face. “You know, last time we talked you said something to me.”

You squinted at him, as if that would help you remember, and it did, washing over you with a fresh mortification. “Oh no.”

“I was hoping you’d actually try it out. See if I like it.”

You were about to broil in your skin. You were sure of it. “It was a joke.” (It wasn’t.)

Robert’s obscenely blue eyes didn’t leave your face and he smiled. “Try it anyway.”

You rolled your lips into your mouth for a moment before saying, “thank you for spending lunch with me, Bobby.”

His smile widened a fraction. “I think I like it.”

“Then I’ll keep saying it, if we see each other again.”

His head tilted to the side just the slightest bit and the new angle had the sharp planes of his cheeks growing dark shadows. “We will.” It sounded like a promise before you parted ways as you neared the lobby.

You had a smile on your face for the rest of the day, even when Reynolds berated you about putting too much sugar in his coffee. You didn’t care. Why? Because maybe you made a friend.

Your smile only faltered when you were called into HR the following morning. Had you done something wrong? Had Reynolds really reported you for getting his coffee wrong? But the smile came roaring back when the stern looking man on the other side of the desk said, “Reynolds is no longer with Fischer Morrow. I’m officially offering you his position. We can discuss salary and benefits, of course. And…”

The rest of the conversation was a dull roar in your ears. Of course you would take the position. You couldn’t wait to tell Bobby.

**2**

“I like the new office.”

You leaned to the side, tearing your gaze away from your computer screen, just enough to see Bobby walk into your office with something tucked beneath his arm. You were quick to stand and welcome him in before glancing at the clock and gasping. “It is nearly midnight! What’re you still doing here?”

His dark brow arched as he moved you both further into your office with a hand on your lower back. “I could ask you the same thing, you know.”

You chuckled nervously, wiping a hand over your mouth. “Um, well, with the reshuffling of the department, some of the tickets fell through the cracks. I’m just making sure no one down here gets in trouble right when I’ve taken this job. Wouldn’t be a good look.” You leaned against the leather couch as he looked around your office. It was nice, truly. You could see your park out of the window and you had enough room to hang a white board so you could work through problems on your own, too. But it had taken a week for you to get moved in after your impromptu promotion and were still getting settled. It was surprising that Bobby knew about your new office at all but you weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe he learned about it from the board meetings he had to sit in on.

He held out what was in his hand and you gasped when you realized that it was a bottle of exceedingly expensive champagne. “It is just a little something to say congratulations on the promotion.”

That single bottle could pay for several months of your rent. “Oh, this is too much, I couldn’t-”

But he still pushed it into your grasp with a shake of his head. “I insist. You’ve more than earned it and you’re obviously taking your new duties seriously.”

You turned the heavy bottle over in your hand as you bit your lip. “Well, if you insist.”

“I do,” he said with another smile.

“Then I must insist that you share a glass with me. Deal?”

There was something in Robert’s gaze that had you nearly shivering. It was too heated, too calculating. But as soon as you saw it, it was gone and he was smiling again. “Deal.”

You handed the bottle back to him. “Can you open it for me? I’ll grab glasses from the break room.”

You heard the pop of the bottle as you hurried down the hall. When you found no clean glasses, you settled for two mugs and hoped that you wouldn’t offend him with the choice. And it seemed that your trepidation was unfounded because he laughed as he spotted them and then poured you both a large serving. He held out his mug toward you. “Cheers, to you and your new job.”

“Cheers!” You clinked your mug against his with a laugh before taking a sip. The champagne tasted expensive and bubbled all the way down. You had to “Thank you so much. This was really kind of you, Bobby.”

He waved it away. “I’m sorry I didn’t manage to swing by earlier.”

“No need to apologize,” you said after taking another sip. “I know the big wigs keep you busy. I think you’re the only person who has actually congratulated me, anyway. So, this means a lot. Thank you, truly.”

He looked at you over the edge of his mug as he took a sip, too. “Well, they don’t know what they’re missing.”

You bit your lip–a terrible habit you were only now realizing how often you did it around him. “I kinda like it just being us anyway. I get nervous around too many people.”

“I don’t mind not sharing you.”

You laughed.

**3**

It was a little strange, how long it took you to realize that you only saw Bobby while you were alone at work. It was like he only appeared when everyone else was gone for the day or you were in your little corner of the park for lunch. You didn’t mind it, really. But your friendship seemed tinged with secrecy. You followed his lead and kept the details to a minimum when anyone asked about who you were having lunch with or who your late night meetings were with. “Oh, just my friend Bobby.” You also tried to ignore that you didn’t know many things about him, including his last name. You weren’t about to ask though, afraid that you’d ask something he didn’t want to divulge and he’d leave you alone.

You sent a smile to your assistant from across the room when she locked eyes with you. She waved when you raised your half-filled champagne flute in her direction, silently telling her to enjoy the holiday party. She was new and lovely and so helpful. She was also overjoyed when you actually let her help with the work your department handled. She also teased you goodnaturedly whenever you would go have lunch with Bobby at the park and asked her to hold your calls for the hour. “Can’t hide him from me forever, you know. I’ll figure out who this man is!”

You glanced down at your watch. It was a quarter to eight. You’d been here for a solid two hours and talked to half a dozen people who really only wanted to double check that their tickets would be resolved before Morning. It was fine–it seemed like most everyone still pretended you didn’t exist. Maybe they’d heard about how awkward you were, or they were wagering about how you got Reynolds’ job. Whatever. At least you got to attend the party–the last time you attempted to do so, Reynolds had you running around the city to grab the gifts he “forgot” to pick up after ordering so he could give them to the rest of the IT team before the end of the party (you did not receive one).

Staying until nine would be acceptable, right? You showed your face, thanked the catering team for their hard work, and watched the party slowly get rowdier at the hours trickled by. Then, you could be asleep before 10 and finally try that running route Bobby mentioned tomorrow morning.

Solid plan, right?

“I was hoping I’d find you here.”

You turned, already smiling, to see Robert leaning against one of the pillars of the hotel’s ballroom, nearly hidden in shadow. “I didn’t think you’d be attending. I thought the big wigs would be having their own party.”

“They are,” he said with a nod. “I escaped.”

You frowned at that, anxiety gnawing at your ribs. “I don’t want you to get in trouble, Bobby.”

His hand gently skirted up your arm and you tried to ignore how he left goosebumps in his wake as his long fingers pressed like firebrands into your skin. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

This was a new habit of his: touching you. You never minded. You had gone so long without more than a friendly pat to the shoulder or a brief handshake that you nearly cried the first time you felt Robert’s fingers trailing along your spine on the bench you still shared at lunch. “Promise?”

“I swear.” His blue eyes flashed with that strange gleam again–after all these weeks you still couldn’t decipher it. “But, I do have ulterior motives.”

“Oh?”

“I got you a present.”

Your grip immediately tightened on your champagne. Shit. “I-I didn’t know we were going to exchange gifts. I-”

“I am not expecting anything in return,” he said, thumb swiping against your arm with a smile. “I just saw it and thought of you.”

“Bobby. You know I’m going to have to take you to lunch or something as a thank you and then still give you a present. I feel awful.”

His grip tightened just a fraction as he shook his head. “Don’t. I actually get more joy out of giving gifts than receiving them.”

“Well, that’s too bad because I’m the same. You’re not getting out of this.”

“We can debate this later.” He pulled the flute from your hand and drained it before grimacing as you laughed. “The stuff I got you was much better. C’mon, I don’t want everyone else to see it.” He then set the empty glass on the nearest table and tangled your fingers together to lead you out of the ballroom and into one of the unlit side rooms. It was filled with folded tables and rows of unused banquet chairs but you could still hear the music coming through the doors. He only let go of your hand when he reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a velvet box with a distinctive HW logo on the lid.

“Bobby…” There was no way you could afford something like that. How were you supposed to reciprocate?

“Open it.” He gently pushed it into your hand and nodded with a smile when you glanced at him again.

With shaking fingers, you did and gasped when you saw the necklace carefully draped across the velvet padding. On a delicate platinum chain was a diamond pendant. Well, it was several diamonds set to look like a flower. It was the most beautiful necklace you’ve ever seen and probably the most expensive you’ve ever held. “I don’t…I don’t know if I can accept this.”

Robert stepped closer, expensive shoes knocking into yours. His cologne, leather and musk and money, slowly filled your every breath as his hands once again found your arms. “You being in my life has been my lone bright spot in a long time. This necklace is just a fraction of what I owe you, all right?”

“You don’t owe me anything, Bobby. I should actually be thanking you. You have been my truest friend. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You were telling the truth–he was your closest friend. Your only friend, if you were being completely honest with yourself. “This is-this is still too much.”

You tried to hand it back but he only pulled the necklace from its hooks and swept around to stand at your back. In one fluid motion, he was fastening it around your neck and his fingers trailed down your arms. “It suits you.”

You looked down at the necklace and a shaky sigh pushed through you. “Fine. You win this round.” When you turned to look at him, you were rewarded with another one of his smiles. “Don’t think I won’t try to pay you back.”

A new song started, something slow and soft, and Robert turned his head to hear it better for a moment before looking at you again. “Well, as a start, would you like to dance with me?”

“Here?” You asked, a giggle coloring your tone.

“Yeah. Just us.” He held out a hand, long fingers angled toward you.

This felt like a step toward something new. Something different than the quiet friendship you’d carefully protected. It would be a lie to say that you hadn’t thought of him in that way–he was beautiful. And kind to you. And funny. So, you put your hand in his and laughed as he hauled you close. His other arm wrapped tightly around your back as he held your hand close to his chest and started to lead you in a dance that had your heart racing despite the slow movements.

Without even thinking, your other hand inched its way up his arm to settle at the nape of his neck and your fingers absentmindedly pushed through his hair. “Thank you, Bobby. For everything. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out. I promise.”

**4**

This was embarrassing.

So embarrassing.

How did you not connect the dots? Your Bobby was Robert fucking Fischer. Successor to the Fischer Morrow empire. You had been palling around with a billionaire heir apparent. You had complained about how the board was fucking up to him. You had said that you couldn’t imagine being a Fischer because, “it just seems miserable.” You had literally said you felt bad for Maurice’s son because “that old man seems like an asshole.”

Wonderful.

Fantastic.

You wanted to walk out into the ocean and swim to the nearest uninhabited island to escape your shame. But you couldn’t because you were watching Robert give a speech to the entirety of Fischer Morrow about the future of the company because his father’s health had taken a sharp decline in the last handful of weeks. You had tucked yourself into the back of the assembled crowd, wishing you had just watched it online in your office instead. How could you miss it? His suits were tailored and designer. He was always perfectly put together. You had once vaguely recognized the Hermès logo on his watch and had thought it had been a holiday gift from the board.

He’d probably bought it on a whim–the tens of thousands it cost wasn’t even a drop in the bucket to him.

Robert finished his speech and nodded his head in response to the applause he earned before stepping away from the podium so CFO could take over, giving further explanation to the expansion planned for Fischer Morrow. You didn’t hear any of it. You were too focused on Robert moving at the edges of the crowd.

Right toward you.

Your fingers fiddled mindlessly with the diamond pendant around your throat. You had worn it every day since he had given it to you. You should have known better.

Before you could even think to do anything at all, Robert’s fingers were circling around your wrist and you were being pulled out of the room. He was quiet as he led you into an empty conference room and shut the door with a soft snap as soon as you were inside.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted, tugging your arm out of his grip and folding your arms over your stomach protectively. “I’m sorry I said all those things.”

“What?” His brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“All…all the things I said about the company, about your father-”

“They needed to be said. I like that you felt comfortable enough to say that to me.”

You scrubbed a hand over your mouth as you started to pace around the table, a million and one thoughts racing through your brain and all of them landed on one conclusion. “Was this just some game? To see what the little worker bee thought of the hive?”

A short breath pushed out of him as he rounded the conference table and grabbed at your hands again to pull you to a stop. Your poor heart hiccuped when he laced your fingers together. “It was never a game. I sought you out because you treated me like I was my own person instead of someone who only stood in my father’s shadow. You saw me, not my last name.”

“Robert-”

His grip tightened, near desperate. “No. No, I’m Bobby to you, remember?”

“I never would have called you that if I had known who you are.” The words were small, as small as you felt in his presence now. But still, you couldn’t pull away from him.

“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. I’m still your Bobby. Nothing’s changed.” His voice was soft. Almost pleading. It cracked at something behind your ribs you had tried to ignore for the sake of the friendship.

“Everything’s changed! You are so far up the corporate ladder above me I shouldn’t even be on your radar.” You finally pulled your hands from his and hated the look in his clear blue eyes. It was unbidden hurt. But your mind jumped to something else. “You had Reynolds fired.”

Robert’s answering silence was answer enough.

“God. I didn’t even earn this position did I? You just felt bad for the stupid, lonely girl in the park-”

Robert was on you in a flash, crowding you against the table without even needing to touch you. “You earned it. I looked into your work history. I saw your credentials. Reynolds knew you were better suited to his job and stepped all over you because of it. I only gave you what you deserved.”

“So, you admit it-”

“I admit that you were better suited. I admit that your department is better for it, too. I admit that I did it because I just wanted to see you smile again.”

Your next breath stalled in your throat and you hated that you felt your chin wobble. What was he saying? “Robert-”

“And it wasn’t pity. It was selfish of me. I wanted to see you smile. I wanted to give you something no one else could. So I did.” Slowly, so slowly, his hands skirted a familiar path up your arms until he was cupping the back of your head and pressing the pads of his thumbs beneath the hinge of your jaw. You could feel each breath he took against the sensitive skin of your lips. “I want to give you everything because you have given me more than I could ever repay. You were lonely. So was I. And we found each other, doesn’t that still matter?”

“I-”

“Let me be your Bobby again. Nothing’s changed, I promise.”

You searched his perfect blue eyes and wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that he felt what you did. That it was okay to feel this, that it was okay to keep him tucked in the confines of your heart where he had burrowed. “You know this has changed, Bobby.” You watched his shoulders sag in relief at the sound of the nickname. “You know it.”

He agreed, nodding just once. “I can’t hide it anymore. You’re right. But I’m still the man sitting next to you on the bench. I’m still sipping champagne out of mugs with you at midnight. I’m still dancing with you in empty rooms. And I’m hoping all that I am, all the charade and everything behind it, is enough for you. I am asking you to have me because of it all, in spite of it all.”

“What will I be to you?” You asked, your voice little more than a whisper.

Robert paused and you watched his pupils start to blow, black eating blue. “You’d be mine.” And then he was kissing you, plush mouth pressing against yours and stealing your next breath. Your hands scrambled to find purchase in the fine fabric of his suit jacket as he hauled you closer, like he was trying to devour you.

You would happily let him.

When he pressed at the seam of your lips, you readily gave in and let him lick into your mouth, searching and wanting. One of his hands fell to your hip as he swallowed a whine building in your throat and he hauled you onto the edge of the table, knocking your legs apart so he could slot himself between them, like he’d always meant to be there.

Maybe he was. Maybe this was inevitable. It certainly felt like it.

Your shaking hands pushed at his jacket and he hurriedly shrugged it off, never moving his mouth from yours and not caring when it hit the floor. “So fucking perfect,” he murmured against your kiss-bitten lips. “And all mine.”

“And you’re mine,” you whispered in return, tugging at his tie next.

A sharp knock at the door halted your next breath. Robert froze, too, lips still pressed to yours.

“Mister Fischer, you’re needed upstairs,” came a stressed, tinny from the other side.

Then you were giggling against him, feeling like a teenager, and you moved to press your face to his shoulder to try to quiet the noise. But then he was laughing, too, and stealing another kiss. “Let’s get out of here.”

**5**

Robert’s father was dying.

There was no more denying it. You watched Robert waffle between heartbreak and resignation and tried to help him through it all, even though what he was feeling was foreign to you. You’d been alone your entire life, growing up at an overrun group home for kids who couldn’t find a foster family to take them and then shuffling from empty dorm room to empty apartment after aging out. But still, you let him burrow his head into your chest when he needed just the world to be quiet. It had been only a handful of weeks since he’d kissed you, asking you to take him for all that he was, but it felt like you had been with him for years, settling into a domestic routine that felt like something out of a romance novel. Something you had only ever wished you could have. You just wished you could ease the ache he was fighting.

You were in his office, the rest of the building having long been deserted at the end of the work day, pushing your fingers through his hair as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Tell me what you need,” you murmured.

“I just need you.” His words vibrated as he spoke them into the fabric of your shirt.

“Bobby,” you started, pressing your hands beneath his chin so he looked up at you. “I am always going to be here, okay? But let me lighten your load. Want me to grab dinner so we can try to knock out some of that paperwork Browning saddled you with?” You smoothed your finger over one of his eyebrows and watched his eyes flutter shut for a moment.

“He means well. He wants me to really know what I’m doing before I officially take the reins.”

“I think he’s being lazy and then schmoozing the rest of the board while you’re in here, working your fingers to the bone,” you said with a smile to try to lessen the blow because you knew how much his ‘uncle’ Peter meant to him. You, however, thought he was a snake.

Robert was quiet as he looked up at you and you felt him squeeze you a little tighter before he stood and pressed a firm kiss to your mouth. “I have a better idea.”

“What could possibly be better than shitty takeout and monotonous paperwork?” You teased, earning a pinch to your side.

“How about you, me, and a bottle of that champagne you like and we just lock ourselves away at my house for the weekend?”

Your agreement was on the tip of your tongue. You could feel it. But he’d played this card before. “You’re going to say ‘after I let you finish this paperwork,’ aren’t you?”

His smile was tired as he danced his fingers down your spine. “God, you’re perfect.”

“You’re not getting out of this, Bobby. Let me help you.” The next noise out of you was an undignified squeak as he grabbed at your hips and hoisted you onto the top of his desk. “What’re you doing?”

“Convincing you to let me do my work.”

“It is Browning’s wor-” Your words halted when his warm hands slipped beneath the hem of your skirt and deftly pushed it up to your waist, exposing your silk stockings and lace garter belt. “You’re fighting dirty.”

Robert only smirked and sank back to his knees as he pulled your underwear down in one swift motion. He licked a bold stripe up your folds that had your head immediately tilting back with a gasp. Again and again, he did it until he closed his warm, wet mouth around your clit and sucked until you were keening, sinking your fingers into his hair again. He always knew just how to turn your spine to jelly with a few flicks of his tongue but his real talent was-

“Oh my god!”

Robert sank his teeth into the dough of your thigh as his long fingers slid into your wet heat and easily found that spot inside you that had sparks bursting behind your eyes. If your mind was capable of doing more than pleading pleasepleasepleaseBobbyplease, you may have felt his lips press a smile into your thigh before his mouth descended on you again, working in tandem with his excruciatingly wonderful fingers.

Your thighs clamped around his head but Robert was undeterred and kept licking and sucking and pushing. Wet, sloppy noises filled the air, punctuated by your whimpers and pleas, until you were crying out with your abrupt release and your entire body felt like you’d been dipped in molten heat that fizzled down to your fingers. You collapsed onto the desk in a heap, thighs sagging open as Robert gave a few last kitten licks to your clit until you pushed him away with a whine. When he pulled his fingers out, you could feel your slick puddling below you and you spotted a damp spot on the cuff of his shirt. Damn.

Robert, however, was unfazed and licked his fingers clean as you tried and failed to catch your breath.

“I know just how to get you to cooperate.” His fingers danced over your thighs, still shaking with aftershocks. “Look at you now. All soft and compliant.”

“Not my fault,” you said between labored breaths. “You don’t fight fair.”

Robert smiled, all teeth. “Not with you.”

**+1**

You hadn’t slept on the flight to Los Angeles. Sure, the first class seat was comfortable and food was delicious, but you weren't able to get comfortable. You knew tht Robert had said you didn’t need to come to the funeral but you weren’t about to let him go through this alone and had used the card he had put in your name to book the next flight out to be at his side.

A chauffeur was waiting for you when you landed and whisked you away to the gated Fischer mansion in one of the more exclusive enclaves outside the city. You’d been to Robert’s penthouse a few blocks from Fischer Morrow. He’d offered to let you use his Venice apartment when you offhandedly mentioned needing a vacation but also told you that his family owned an entire island near St. Barts if you wanted something a little more private. But this mansion was truly something else. Perhaps a better term to use would be Manor or Palace. You thanked the chauffeur as he handed you your single bag and told you that ‘Mister Fischer’ was waiting for you inside.

Your heels clicked against the solid piece of marble of the entryway but you hardly noticed when the butler (oh, you hoped you were using the right term) took your bag and told you that Robert was waiting for you in the library. Of course there was a library. You followed his directions and pushed the door open, unsurprised with its silence or its wait.

Robert was leaning against the fireplace mantle, nursing a glass of cognac. The crystal clacked as he set it down when he spotted you. You were quick to meet him halfway, wrapping your arms around him as he pulled you tight against his chest. The pair of you was quiet for a moment as you tried to press every ounce of love you had into him.

“Tell me what you need. I’m here for you.”

Robert’s next breath rumbled through him and he pulled you even tighter. “Just need you.”

“You have me.”

He was quiet again for just a moment. “I’m dissolving the company.”

You went to pull back but he held firm. “What?”

“I’m going to build something better. I don’t want to be a miserable old man like him. I don’t want to devote my life to a company when I have a family who needs me.”

“A family?” You prodded softly.

“I want a family with you. I want it all with you.”

The simple words had tears forming in your eyes and you just held him tighter. “I want that, too.” You pulled back, finally able to do so when his grip loosened, and pressed a hand to his cheek. “We can talk more about it after the funeral, okay? Emotions are running high right now. I don’t want you to think that you have to make any big decisions immediately. I’m not going anywhere.”

Robert’s eyes searched for something in your face but he seemed to find what he wanted as he smiled. “I know.”

You stood at Robert’s side during the wake and funeral and tried to keep him out of the spotlight when the photogs descended on him before the reception. He held your hand in the back of the limousine that took you back to the house after the coffin was buried and didn’t let go until he was pressing you down into his bed.

You sighed as he sank into you, hot and thick. He was always so good to you. Always stuffed you full and left you gasping. Every drag and pull of him was sending new sparks up your spine and you clung to him as he dragged you closer to euphoria. “Take what you need, Bobby,” you whimpered. “Take it.”

And he did. His hips snapped to yours, hard and strong, as his hands pressed you down into the mattress until you were only able to hold onto him, letting out choked whines and whimpers into the flushed skin of his neck.

“You’re mine,” he said, words in time with each thrust.

You could feel him in your throat.

“Yours.”

Robert bared his teeth and the next thrusts knocked the air from your lungs and you wailed as you felt him come, warmth blooming and spilling. His deft fingers found your clit and rubbed vicious circles until you were keening with your own release that he swallowed with a kiss that was all teeth and tongue.

Both of you were quiet as he led you to the bath and filled it with near-scalding water and some sort of floral oils. He held you tight against his chest again and you tried not to be embarrassed when he sent one of the (many) maids to fetch the bottle of champagne he’d apparently set out for this moment. Realizing that it was the same champagne from that night in your office all those months ago did make you smile. Robert turned and poured two glasses and pressed one into your hand. You settled back against his chest and sipped, frowning when it didn’t quite taste the same. Maybe it was a different year. Oh well.

By the time you finished your glass, you were exhausted and blamed the sex and hot water. “Take me to bed, Bobby?”

He wiped you down with a warmed towel and wrapped you up in a plush robe before leading you back to bed that now had new sheets. You were too tired to care about someone being that aware of your bedroom activities. You’d be back in Australia soon enough anyway.

Your eyelids were fighting to stay open by the time your head hit the pillow and Robert settled beside you. His warm hand cupped your cheek and his thumb smoothed a gentle arc beneath your eye. “My lonely girl.”

“Yours,” you mumbled, eyes closing.

“Mine.”

You woke the next morning with a raging headache and a strange cottony feeling behind your tongue. Robert wasn’t beside you and you assumed he was probably already downstairs, eating breakfast and answering emails. You would have to convince him to take the day off.

Work could wait.

You walked to the closet in search of your bag and…couldn’t find it.

Your purse was missing from where you had left it on the bedside chair, too.

Your passport wasn’t in the lockbox.

“Bobby?” You called out as you walked down the hall, trepidation with every step. Something was wrong. “Bobby?”

The house was silent. Unnervingly so. You could almost hear the blood roaring in your ears. You were almost relieved when you spotted the butler near the front door. “Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you so early in the morning, but do you happen to know if one of the maids, um, moved my stuff? I can’t seem to find anything.”

The butler nodded, quick and sharp. “Mister Fischer has made sure everything you will need is delivered by noon. I will have the maids bring it to your room when it arrives.”

That…that didn’t make any sense. “I…have you seen Robert?” You asked, just wanting to see a familiar face. Your Bobby.

“He’s returned to Australia, miss.”

Your stomach dropped to your feet. “What?”

“He said he left a note in the bedroom explaining the situation.”

That was dismissal enough and you turned and walked back to the room, metaphorical tail tucked between your legs. You did find the note and braced for an awkward break up or something of that ilk but what you found instead had your veins turning to ice.

I’ll be back for you. We can begin our lives together as soon as I finish dealing with the board. You’ll want for nothing, I’ve made sure of it. And you can finally settle into the life I’ve always wanted to give you. Learn the house. Pick out a nursery.

This had to be a joke, right?

Right?

But the windows were on an alarm system and a man with a gun would yank you back into the room before you could even get halfway out. The doors were guarded. The landline didn’t work. The computer in the office didn’t connect to the internet.

You were alone.

Alone.

Alone until Robert came back three weeks later and placed a diamond ring on your finger as he kissed away your tears. You weren’t sure if you were crying out of anger or relief to finally have him back.

“Why’d you do this, Bobby?” You whispered into his chest as he held you close. You didn’t have the energy to fight him.

“Because you’re mine.”

A/N: please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

#hauntedhoedown #robert fischer x reader #Robert Fischer imagine #robert Fischer fic #Inception #female reader

326 notes · View notes