#I want to get to the reveal so badly so I can stop being coy with y'all you have no idea | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

duskamethyst · 3 years

Text

broken reverie.

a/n: he’s not wearing glasses in this one.

word count: 3.9k

genre: smut, nsfw, college AU

warnings: taboo rs, slapping, spanking, choking, face fucking, brat taming (kind of), slight degradation, creampie, age gap (nanami reaching 40)

pairing: professor!nanami x f!reader

summary: professor nanami calls you to his office to ‘talk’ about your terrible performance in his class.

maybe you went too far.

or else you wouldn’t have ended up in his office.

but is this the outcome you coveted? yes.

the door creaks behind you before it closes again as you sit and wait in front of the big wooden desk. you were kind of excited when he told you to come and see him at his office earlier but now you’re having a whirlwind of emotions making your stomach churn and you don’t dare to look around to face him– even though he’s going to be sitting in front of you in a moment.

his shoes clack against the floor as he strides and sits on his chair. the air in the room feels dense when the male doesn’t say anything; as if you’re not in his presence to begin with.

he looks exasperated. a long, deep breath is emitted through his nostrils as he loosens up his tie from the collar. you only gawk at him in awe as he does so, but quickly snap out when he finally shifts his gaze at you.

“so, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he finally breaks the silence. the deep, husky tone of his voice fills your ear and you hope he doesn’t notice your thighs press against each other almost immediately.

“tell you.. what?” you mentally slap yourself. you’re clearly aware of what he’s insinuating but you’re suddenly lost for words. there’s a huge difference between seeing him in class and being alone together with him. it’s even more nerve wrecking than you imagined and oh god, is his ac broken? because it suddenly feels hot.

nanami raises a brow, evidently unamused. “i had the courtesy to make time for you when i should be having brunch now so i don’t appreciate you playing coy.”

you gulp audibly, “i’m sorry, sir.”

“if it’s not clear to you yet, i’m talking about your grades.” he opens the drawer under his desk and pulls out a pile of paper before slamming it in front of you. you blink in surprise and flip through the pages, though you know you don’t need to see it when you already know what lies on them. there are a lot of red circles on the papers, namely yours, with huge unpleasant numbers on the corner ranging from 12% to 25%.

then he takes out another file which you realize as your student record throughout your semester and the subjects you currently take.

“i find it odd that you scored well for your other courses.” he skims through the pages. “you certainly didn’t cheat, i can tell.”

“no, of course not.”

“then, what’s the problem here?” his tired eyes bore into you as he waits for you to answer or come up with whatever excuse.

“well, i–”

“you’re doing it on purpose.” he snaps.

it’s as if time comes to a stop. your cheeks heat up with humiliation and you can’t bring yourself to continue to look at him in the eyes. although you’re aware that your silence means compliance, you’re still jumbling up words in your head to deny his assumption.

“are you going to tell me i’m wrong?”

“yes– i-i mean–” you stammer.

“then enlighten me.” he glances at the branded watch donned on his left wrist. “we have time.”

you shake your head, “i have another class soon.”

“skip it.” he quickly retorts. “i’m sure you have no problems with that. your grades are doing well for that one, but certainly not mine.”

sweat starts to form on your palms as you look down on your thighs, purposely avoiding his eyes that hold nothing but so much intensity. you’re weighing between two options; to keep on bluffing or come clean. you don’t think that nanami would let you get off the hook if you keep on lying and you’d definitely be bombarded with more questions, yet the outcome of the latter would be so embarrassing and you don’t know if you can live it down for the rest of the semester.

you’ve fantasized about being alone with him but.. not particularly this way.

gathering courage and taking a deep breath, you decide it’s best to just tell him the truth.

“you’re right,” you feel your ears burning, hands clammy. “i purposely failed your class.”

lifting up your head, you see the male grinning lopsidedly in his seat. maybe he’s pleased that you’re not wasting his time anymore, you’re not sure, he’s not easy to read.

“wasn’t that easy?” he folds his arms in front of his chest. “i have my own speculation but i wanna hear why you did it.”

“um,” you look down to your hands again, also half wondering what kind of bold assumption he has in mind. “i was dared by my friend.”

“wrong,” he scoffs. “and look at me while you’re talking.”

you sigh defeatedly and nervously fix your gaze. if you’ve learned one thing now, it’s that your professor doesn’t have tolerance for bullshit and he knows one when he hears one.

“i-i did it for.. attention.”

“my attention?” he emphasizes, maintaining his stoic persona to mask his amusement of finding out that his speculation turns out to be indeed true.

you purse your lips in a thin line, nodding your head quietly. nanami remains to stare at you as he ponders in silence. you can hear your heart beating rapidly in your ears and you want to break eye contact so badly but you’re certain it wouldn’t be wise.

“all that, just for a crumb of my attention?” he spits with a hint of venom in his voice. “are you happy with what you did?”

well, you’ve imagined him punishing you on his desk, fuck you raw or spank you with his belt until your ass turns red– not some serious interrogation.

“no, sir.”

nanami props his elbows on the table, hands clasped under his chin to keep his head up. the air around him becomes even more threatening but it somehow manages you to feel even more aroused, making your toes curl in your shoes. you definitely need to get out soon.

“you know, if i have even one student failing my class, i could get into trouble and be questioned for my performance.” he starts. “to have you doing that for your own selfish incentive is unacceptable, don’t you think?”

“i’m sorry.” you mumble with meek.

“besides that, you might have to retake this course again for your next semester and it’ll waste your time– or..?”

you stay silent to let him continue.

“or you were intending to be in my class again so you can see me?”

“y-yes.” you bashfully admit after one silent moment, knowing that lying will take you nowhere. “i’m sorry, sir.”

nanami chuckles, finding your naivety to be rather entertaining. never has he ever met a student like you, outwardly expressing their interest in him by failing their paper. he’s not too sure what you’re trying to get out of him but maybe he can put one and one together. it’s pretty common that younger women have an attraction to older men like him and your classmates are.. well, not exactly the best looking either.

“are you?” he smirks cynically. “do you have any idea how many students i have to monitor? how tiring my job can be?”

“yes. it was inconsiderate of me. i’m sor–”

“show me.” nanami cuts you off and leans back on his chair. maybe he can push you a little bit, he thinks. you owe him this anyway.

you blink, perplexed. “what?”

“you kept saying sorry.” he undoes two of the buttons on his blue dress shirt and spreads his legs apart. “talk is cheap. show me.”

you do a double take as he taps his thigh and waits for you to come over. you have the faintest idea of what he’s implying but your body freezes and your brain short-circuits as if paralyzed.

“you chose to lie again? you’re not really sorry, are you?”

“no, no! that’s not it. i just..”

an ongoing battle takes place in your mind– sure that this is a part of your deepest, darkest fantasy yet you’re just baffled over how quick nanami catches on to it. now that your debaucherous dream has become a vivid reality, you don’t know which is the right step to take.

“but if not now, when?” a soft voice in your head whispers. if desire could embody a voice, you think this is it. gentle, yet seductive as if it attempts to give you a push to pluck and have a taste of the forbidden fruit.

“how much longer do you have to touch yourself to the thoughts of your professor before you go to bed?”

“although this could be a one time thing, at least you’d know how it feels like.”

you slowly get up from your seat and make your way towards him. nanami’s eyes trail up at you, down to the floor then back up at you; gesturing you to get on your knees.

you settle between his thick thighs and look up at him timidly through your lashes before you bring your hands to undo his belt.

“no hands.” he quickly demands.

you lick your lips as you figure the structure of the belt and how you’re going to take it off without the aid of your hands. the taste of cold metal and leather instantly invades your palate as you feebly use your teeth to tug the front loop of his belt. your head shifts awkwardly side to side until you finally get to catch the buckle between your teeth, pulling it hard before the belt soon unfastens.

nanami only observes you indifferently from above, yet the large tent in front of you doesn’t conceal the excitement he currently possesses.

you take a deep breath before you continue on succeeding your quest. you twist your neck as you find and tug on the fabric loop that holds the button.

“i know you’re a smart girl.” he praises as he rests his hand on top of your head while you struggle to lift up the zipper with your tongue and grasp it between your teeth. the simple praise inflates your confidence and you become more eager to complete your task so you can claim your awaiting prize.

with valiantness, you finally lock eyes with him as you pull down his zipper completely to reveal the huge bulge pressing against the fabric of his briefs and the tip slightly poking out from the top.

“hm? you still have to take it out, no?” he smirks as he notices you gape at the outline of his cock.

you quickly pull yourself together and lean back up to the stretchy band on his waist. he hisses when he feels your tongue purposely graze against the flushed tip before you pull down the briefs by force to reveal the one thing you’ve been desiring for so long.

you press your thighs together as a dull ache forms in your core from the sight of his thick cock standing proudly in front of you. it’s nothing like you’ve ever imagined– it’s better and you’ve finally found it worth going through all that trouble of failing his class (and using your mouth to take off his pants).

“this is what you want, isn’t it?” he sneers, titling up your chin with his fingers, brushing your lips with his thumb and pulling the bottom lip apart so he can see a row of teeth.

“y-yes, sir.” you gulp and breathe as you wait for his next command.

nanami’s lips tug into a conceited smirk, “suck.”

leaning down your head to the base, you flatten your tongue underneath the shaft and slowly drag upwards in favor of reveling the veins on his hard cock. nanami lets out a sigh of content when he feels your tongue licking his tip and his hand tugs on your locks by reflex. you look at him as you wrap your lips around the tip, slobbering the tip with your saliva and his precum.

“fuck.” he curses under his breath and his head falls back when the warmth of your mouth finally engulfs his throbbing cock as you take most of the length inside your mouth.

you hollow your cheeks together, head bobbing up and down as you struggle to take more of his cock that you nearly choke whenever the tip hits the back of your throat, but the hand on top of your head grabs a fistful of your hair and he pushes your head down to sink all his length inside your mouth deeper. when you want to pull away, he only holds you in place and remains his cock down your throat.

“through your nose.” he mutters. tears start to well in your eyes while your saliva just trickles down to his balls as he screws his eyes shut and relishes in the pleasure that washes throughout his body. “i needed this so bad, you know?”

your whines only give him more stimulation and his hips jerk in response, “just wouldn’t think that a student– fuck– out of all people would choke on my dick.” he lets out a sardonic chuckle as if something just crossed his mind. “it’s wrong, but that’s what makes it feel so good, isn’t it?”

nanami keeps you in the position as he ruts his hips slowly into your throat. his eyes are closed in concentration and his lips part slightly in fast and short pants. you work on your gag reflex as you let him fuck your mouth, enduring the sharp sting on your scalp when he tugs your hair harder– at least you know you’re making him feel good.

“if i cum in your mouth, you’d gladly swallow, won’t you?”

you can feel his cock twitching when you let out a choke of assent from your throat but you splutter as soon as nanami abruptly pulls away his cock because of a sudden knock on the door that startles the both of you.

“get under the desk.” he urges and you quickly crawl to hide while he coughs and inches closer to his desk. “come in.”

you hear the door open followed by echoes of footsteps before it comes to a halt in front of his desk.

“didn’t i tell you to contact me before seeing me?” his voice is laced with irritation yet collected as he speaks. you can imagine the agitated look on his face, thinking it would be only natural for anyone to assume that he’s already having a bad day. and to them, interrupting the peak of his orgasm is most definitely not it.

without a second thought, you take back his dick inside your mouth. a spur of triumph swells in your chest when you feel his body jolts in surprise. you think it’s only fair since he has choked you with his cock and what perfect timing to carry out your petty vengeance when the man is busy advising his student.

however, nanami shifts on his seat to give you more access to take more length of his cock. he tries to stay composed as he feels your tongue gliding up and down his shaft but once the wet muscle prods against the slit, he emits an oddly sharp exhale. you can hear him almost stammering as he speaks and the way his tone changes to conceal the squelching sounds you elicit from underneath the table as you please his cock with zeal.

“so, i want you to fix the mistake and hmm..,” his hands ball into fists on the table as he takes a deep breath. “show me in class tomorrow.”

“sure. uh, are you okay, sir?” you hear the voice say. “you don’t look well.”

his eye twitches when your tongue wraps around his balls, taking one inside your mouth to suck harshly.

“yeah, fine.” he clears his throat. “thanks for asking.”

nanami only watches as his student turns to walk towards the door until the door closes behind him. once he’s sure that the student has left the door, he finally leans back on his chair in relief.

“fuck.” he groans, glancing down at you as you look up at him innocently with doe eyes and your swollen lips wrapped prettily around his balls. yet, he looks dissatisfied more than anything.

nanami grabs your arm and drags you out from under his desk until you’re on your feet, “i never took you as a fucking brat.” he lifts up your skirt and bites back a groan once he sees the damp patch on your panties. “did you touch yourself?”

you hum a ‘mhm’, feigning guiltlessness as he grazes his fingers on your inner thighs.

“you’re just asking for me to touch you here, hm?” shivers run up your spine when his thumb ghosts over your wet slit and up to your clit.

“y-yes.” your breath hitches.

“begging for me to push your head on the table and ram my cock inside you?” he muses, pressing on your clit as he watches you squirm. “is that what you want?”

“please–” you roll your hips slightly to soothe the ache on his thumb but a hand comes down harshly on your ass, gesturing for you to stop in a fierce manner.

nanami chuckles mockingly, “well, that’s what exactly you’re not going to get.”

a whine elicits from your lips when he draws back his hands to his thighs and you glance at his dick; still throbbing and leaking precum from the florid tip. well, at least he hasn’t put it back inside his pants, so you still have a chance.

“come on. you haven’t shown me how much you’re sorry.”

with your inhibitions already flew out of the window, you stand in between his thighs, hoist the skirt to your waist and tug your panties to the side before squatting down to smear your slick on his dick. sparks of arousal swim through you as you grind your clit on the tip before you sink down, gasping as his thick cock stretches your cunt and down until you’re filled to the brim.

you glance at the male expectantly, waiting for him to move but he raises a questioning brow at you, “if you want something, work for it.”

not exactly what you sought for, but it should suffice. you begin to gyrate your hips slowly, adjusting to his size before you can pick up the pace. you fight the urge to hold onto him for leverage, in fear he wouldn’t appreciate the crumple on his expensive dress shirt later.

as you become more delirious, you start to hump his cock vigorously, whining like a bitch in heat as you feel every vein and ridges on his cock brushing deliciously against your walls. nanami lifts the hem of your shirt and brings it up to your mouth and you quickly catch it between your teeth.

“the door isn’t locked, you know.” he muses, staring at your bouncing tits with half lidded eyes; mesmerized and thick with lust. “what’s going to happen if someone comes in and sees you bouncing on her professor’s cock like a little whore?”

a low, guttural sound rips from his throat when he feels your walls clenching around him in response.

“you’d like that, don’t you?” he smirks, tugging your bra down slightly and brushes his thumb against the erected nipple, making you mewl through the fabric in your mouth.

“you know you’re not supposed to do this but,” he brings up his thumb to caress your cheek. “you’re just so eager to please me, aren’t you?”

you sniffle in response, hands clutching on his solid thighs as you melt into his soft gaze before it’s gone in an instant.

“but i don’t like brats.” he sneers, drawing his hand away to slap your breast. “i don’t like people making my job harder. are you a brat?”

you shake your head, he slaps again.

“you act like one. stop lying.”

nanami tugs down the shirt from your mouth, a part of the fabric already drenched with your drool. his large hand circles around your throat while the other grips your hip firmly to roll your hip even faster on his dick.

“oh– feels good–!” you moan wantonly, eyes rolling back as you let him control your body and assert his dominance over you.

“fuck it does.” he presses your throat tighter on the sides, restricting air from entering your lungs but your walls squeeze harder in retaliation.

“bratty little bitch. clamping down on me like that.” he grits out and slaps across your face. what seems to be a rather harsh form of treatment, the pleasure filled sting and the lack of oxygen only fuel your arousal that you don’t even notice the way you hump on his cock has become more rapturous.

“getting off to this?” nanami slaps your other cheek before he lets go of his grip around your neck and you’re finally able to breathe air again. yet, he doesn’t spare you time to gather yourself before he promptly lifts up your hips and starts to pound inside your cunt relentlessly.

the position causes you to tip to the front and you immediately hold on to him; face burying on the crook of his neck while his cologne fills your senses and sends you into a state of frenzy.

“you like me using your tight cunt like that?” nanami grabs your ass for leverage, the angle allows him to fuck you so deep that you’re able to feel his cockhead kissing your cervix with each thrust.

“y-yes–!” you cry, the pressure in your stomach building up as you inch closer to an orgasm.

“like it when i use you to take out my frustrations?” he spanks the meaty flesh; walls clenching tighter on his fat cock and more slick dripping down his balls. “you just want to be my little cocksleeve, don’t you?”

“yesyesyes– please–!” your body starts to tremble above him. “w-wanna cum–”

“then fucking cum.” nanami rams into your cunny faster, abusing the spongy walls until the pressure snaps and tips you over the edge. you moan breathlessly into his neck, while your pussy gushes and creams around his cock.

“that’s a good girl,” he fucks you through your high, grunting and panting as he pushes through the pulsing walls in order to chase his high. “and good girls get rewarded, right?”

you hum in agreement, still dazed and swimming in ecstasy as you gawk at him with heavy lidded eyes; the sweat glistening his forehead and sharp eyes focusing on where your bodies join.

“then you’re gonna get some huge load in this pretty pussy.” his pace begins to stutter, nails digging deeper into your skin before his cock twitches and his hips freeze as he paints your insides white with cum.

both exhausted bodies rest against each other, chests heaving as you and nanami take time to regain composure and come down from your highs. he lifts you up slightly to take out his spent cock and he tugs back your panties in place, not minding the cum that dribbles from your quivering hole.

your legs tremble once you get off of him that you have to force yourself to find your footing as you fix your skirt while the older male pulls back his pants in place.

“do your best for your next papers, no more of that bullshit.” he fastens his buttons and straightens his tie before raising his hands to brush against his sleek, light brown hair that’s mixed with a few strands of grey. “but if you have any problems, just come and see me in my office.”

nanami falls quiet for a brief second to contemplate and you straighten your back when you once again meet his icy gaze, “after hours.”

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just-a-creep-babe · 3 years

Text

Teasing & Denial~

Ticci Toby x Reader Smut

Commissioned by anonymous, thank you so much luv 🥰😘

Requests are closed

Masterlist: x

His hands are pinned up above his head, shirt lifted to expose his chest while his pants have been shoved down to reveal his cock

He’s hard and throbbing as he twitches beneath your touch

“P-please… please…” he whines

His shallow breaths are hot and heavy as he pants the words out

“F-fuck—pretty please—!”

You chuckle, but refuse to give him what he wants

Instead, you swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock, lapping at the precum beading up his slit

He flexes his wrists against the restraints, jutting his hips up and throwing his head back with a deliciously pathetic whine

“You’re so cute, baby boy~ Such a good, obedient little slut for me, aren’t you?~” you coo

He nods frantically, whimpering

“Y-yes—please. I’m—I’m your good slut, (y/n)! G-god, fuck, please!~”

He jerk up again, looking for some kind of contact, some kind of release—only to get absolutely nothing

You have to bite back a smirk as you run the pads of your fingers up and down the underside of his shaft

His body thrashes—a twitch or voluntary movement, you’re not sure—and more sweet moans escape him

“Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me, and I just might reward you~”

“I—a-ah~ I wanna—wanna cum. P-please, Mistress, I wanna cum so badly. Pretty please—”

You hum

He looks so desperate

You know he’s at a point where he’d do anything for you—and the thought of having someone so dangerous at the mercy of your touch is exhilarating

Without breaking eye contact, you wrap your lips around him and watch as he shudders and gasps

But you don’t take him any further down your throat

Instead, you trace your tongue over his slit, lathering the tip with attention while ignoring the rest of his pulsing length

He looks so cute, so absolutely adorable as he writhes, trying to flex into your mouth, his head falling back and chest heaving with every choked moan

You let him hump himself into your mouth for a while, never letting him get more than a few inches deep before pulling back all over again

He’s so eager, so wonderfully responsive as you pleasure him between your lips

Your tongue flicks at his most sensitive parts in short, quickly repeating motions while you hollow out your cheeks at the same time

You can feel him trying to fuck himself into your mouth as best as he can, moaning and squirming for more

And right as he’s starting to get a bit too eager for your liking, you pull away, and the wet warmth of your tongue disappears from his pulsing cock completely

“N-no! Fuck, fuck—please!”

His fervent protests fall on deaf ears

“Aww, I’m sorry, baby,” you pout mockingly, “Were you getting close again? Hm? Did you wanna cum in my mouth?”

Toby’s always been the softest, sweetest boy you’ve ever been with

You almost feel bad for being so cruel, denying his release for this long despite him being as obedient and submissive as ever

But he’s just so much fun to tease, how could you possibly resist?

He nods at your question, still dazed and reeling from the shock of being denied yet again

You tilt you head, coy smirk playing at your lips, and watch as he takes in deep, shuddering breaths, trying to control the way his hips keep stuttering up for your touch

It’s all too endearing, really~

“So cute, baby. You’re so cute when you get all desperate for me~”

You trace down his torso, and he squirms beneath feather-light touches

“(Y-y/n)—Mistress~”

Panting and shaking, he whimpers your name, looking up at you like you’re a goddess

You toy with your bottom lip between your teeth, body tingling pleasantly at the sight he offers

But still, you manage to resist getting too excited in the moment

Instead, you continue tracing down his form, gently stroking his scarred skin as you give him time to catch his breath

You want him nice and ready for what you have in mind, after all~

When his breathing’s calmed down and you think he’s had enough time to recover, you wrap your hand around the toy strapped to your hips, giving the silicon cock a few strokes just to tease him

His gaze immediately fixates on your movements, his own member twitching in need as his hips rolling up into nothing at the same pace that you jerk the toy

He bites his lip, brows furrowing

And then you release your grip on the fake shaft, chuckling at the urgency in his eyes

“You want this, baby?”

He swallows thickly

“Yes,” he breaths out

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows back another moan before adding, “p-pretty please—“

His begging is all you need to hear

You reach out, grabbing a fistful of his dark brown locks between your fingers

And then you tug his head to the side for access to his neck, being delicate enough to not injure him, but harsh enough to be firm and commanding

He whines, but lets you take control of his body nonetheless

He’s all yours to use, all yours to play with~

Your lips find purchase on his neck in a teasing kiss, teeth nipping at flesh before moving down to his collarbone

You take your sweet, sweet time littering love marks all over him until reddish-purple flowers are blossoming on his skin

He shudders as you do, still wriggling and writhing beneath you, his member rubbing against your thigh and smearing streaks of white every time he tries to grind up for more friction

“That’s my good boy~”

Your free hand lines the toy up to his entrance while you’re distracting him with your mouth

You murmur encouraging nothings as you ever so slowly ease into him—all the way until the toy’s completely disappearing inside him

His lips part in a hushed moan as you bottom out, his eyes glazing over and back arches for more

“Look at you, baby. You’re so cute, so fucking perfect for me~”

Your eager praises are accompanied by slow, gentle thrusts

His hands ball into fists above his head, muscles tensing as wave upon wave of pleasure crashes through him

There’s a perfectly blissed-out look on his face as you rock into him with calculated movements

Try as he might to hold back his desperate sounds, the room is filled with his eager cries

It’s like music to your ears~

He rolls his hips back, meeting you halfway for every thrust, trying to get you to go faster and harder, but you maintain your even pace

“(Y-y/n), please. More. P-please, I need more~”

You hum, biting your lip, enjoying the way his cock twitches against your stomach

He wants you

He wants you to get him off—wants you to pound into him until he’s nothing but a shambling, babbling mess of a person

But you’re not done having your fun just yet~

“You want more, baby? Yeah? I bet you want me to fuck your dumb little brain out, don’t you?”

He nods frantically, and he’s about to say something, but he quickly cuts himself off with a loud moan as you hit that spot inside him

He jerks, a string of curses escaping him, his body tensing so that you can see his muscles tightening beneath his sweat-slicked skin

His sounds are nearly driving you desperate as well

It takes more willpower than you’d like to admit to pause, keeping still so that the toy is just barely grazing the same spot

“N-no!” he whines in protest, cursing, knowing all too well what you plan on doing to him.

You have to resist touching yourself at the sight of him so worked up

“P-please—don’t stop! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Please—“

“Tsk tsk tsk,” you shush him, tapping your fingers against his thighs, “ah ah, good boys don’t complain now, do they?”

He shuts his eyes, brows furrowing and body trembling as his teeth find purchase on his bottom lip until it bleeds

You smack his thigh, forcing him to release his lip and return his attention back to you

He shakes his head in response to your previous question, swallowing thickly, looking up at you with lust-filled eyes

So submissive

“Good boy~” you praise, purring in satisfaction

You wrap a hand around the base of his cock to reward him, and watch as he bucks up, seeking more of your touch

“Are you gonna take it, baby? Gonna take my cock like the little slut you are?”

He nods eagerly, hands fumbling to grip the bindings for leverage on something

“Yes, please, I’ll be good,” he promises, groaning, “F-fuck, please fuck me, Mistress~”

You hum, running barely-there strokes up and down his stiff member, ever so faintly jerking him off to get him nice and riled up—even more so than he already is

It has his head falling back again, and you savor how vocal he becomes at the slightest hint of contact

You coo more praises, chuckling at how needy he looks when he squirms beneath you

You really do feel bad for teasing him this much when he’s been so obedient, hanging onto your every word—but you just can’t help it

He looks so damn cute when he’s this desperate

The slick pooling between your legs has gotten damn near unbearable by now, but you don’t want to stop just yet

No, you want to drag this out as long as you can

Which is why you take your time toying with him, moving your hips again to readjust him to the tempo of skin smacking against skin

You move faster than the last pace you’d set before, but still not as fast as you know he likes

Every time you pump the toy into him, it reaches right where it needs to—and with every push of your hips, you feel his body tense eagerly with a surge of pleasure and adrenaline

He looks so needy, trembling and mewling beneath you, that you can’t help but succumb to what he wants—what he needs

You give in to the desire to fuck him faster and harder, impaling him on the toy cock like he’s your own personal fucktoy

And your efforts are immediately rewarded

He’s loud and absolutely shameless as he cries out for you, cursing and mewling, yanking at his restraints, his back arching and his cock twitching impatiently

You know he won’t last very long at the rate you’re going

But you don’t want to stop just yet

You use him shamelessly and recklessly, taking out all of your frustrations by pounding into him until he’s gasping for breath

And then, right as he’s about to cum—his member tensing and his voice getting louder as he nears ever so close to ecstasy yet again—you stop

“N-no, fuck!” he cries out, rolling his hips, trying to find the slightest bit more friction to get off, but you pull away again before he can reach it

A few tears spill down his cheeks, his body unable to process the sheer lack of release he’s had to endure for god knows how long by now

“Aww, it’s alright, baby,” you shush him, wiping away his tears. “There’s no need to cry~”

Your cooing doesn’t do much to quell his desperation

“I-I wanna cum. Please, please let me cum, Mistress. Please~”

His begging goes straight to your core

You smoothen out his hair, contemplating the sadistic plan running through your head

You know fully well that you shouldn’t go through with it

It’s much too cruel

But at the same time, you don’t want him to stop being so desperate, so on edge for every faint bit of attention you give him

With a knowing smirk, you shake your head

“No baby, I don’t think you’ve earned it just yet tonight~”

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #Ticci Toby #ticci toby x reader smut #ticci toby x reader #creepypasta smut

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

put it all on me - steve rogers smut

The one where, after Steve fucks you in a bar, he takes you back to his room.

Warnings: Cum eating, oral sex (f), A LOT OF dirty talk, light degradation?, I don’t think so, but just to be sure, it’s just ‘cause Steve likes to tease the reader for her sexual desires, captain kink, talks of threesome, smut, p in v, doggy, face down, ass up, plot twist, poly!Steve, really dominant!Steve

A/N: in theory, this is supposed to be a part ii to this fic, hence the same title. But it’s easily read as a one-shot, so if you don’t want to read that little drabble, just carry on.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The first thing Steve did when he managed to get me inside his room was strip me completely naked, and after a few minutes of forcing me to endure his burning gaze on my exposed body, fall to his knees and pull me to accept his body between my legs.

“St-Steve!” I admonished, trying to get out of the position, knowing the cum he had deposited inside of me was going to drip on his face any second now. But all I got was a harsh slap on my ass, Steve’s blunt nails carving half-moon indentations on my skin when he secured my hips, making sure to push my legs as far away as they could get before he sat me down on his mouth. “Shit, Captain! Sorry.”

“You think you can pretend to be all coy and shy now, sweetheart?” He mocked, perfect soft lips already prying my lower ones open and he used his tongue to scoop up his own cum from inside of me, catching me by surprise. I was so surprised, in fact, that I lost control of my own leg muscles, and would have fallen face-first on the floor if it weren’t for Steve still keeping me up by his grip on my hips.

“You can’t play that innocent act with me anymore, princess. Not when you let me fuck you in a bar’s bathroom. Not when you were so eager to milk me dry.” I moaned just from hearing the good old Captain America saying such nasty things from between my legs. It felt like a dream - a dirty, too-good-to-be-true dream, and I loved every second of it.

On the off chance that this whole thing had been just a figment of my imagination, I wanted to make the most out of it. I wasn’t one for lucid dreams, so I didn’t know when it would be the next time I’d get this sort of fun again.

If it was truly happening, then, that’s why I needed to cherish every single second of this experience. There was no part of me that believed I’d be able to lay with Steve freaking Rogers again after tonight. This was purely the result of hurt ego and adrenaline that was most likely still running through his body from the mission he’d been on for the last few weeks. He hadn’t had a release in a while and it was purely the combination of luck and being in the right place, at the right time, that had allowed me to cherish this opportunity. I wouldn’t fake myself into believing any differently.

Steve hummed as he tasted the combination of himself and my wetness. It felt downright depraved, and it only served to get me even wetter for him. “We taste so good together, honey. I don’t think I’ll ever want to eat my cum without yours.”

What the fuck was going on? Who was this person? I just couldn’t believe Steve was actually saying stuff like that. Through the gasps that revealed just how out of breath that situation had made me, I forced myself to let out a raspy, “You do that often?”

It made Steve laugh, still otherwise occupied with licking my wetness away, sometimes humming in a way that let me believe he truly was deeply appreciative of my taste. “You truly have no idea,” he mused, only making even more curious.

Steve’s P.O.V.

Shit, she was perfect. I was so glad her little slip up had given me the perfect opportunity to rail her in the bathroom of that bar because now that I had known how she felt and what she tasted like, there was no way I would ever let her go. And I knew just who would love this development.

“When Bucky gets home, I’m sure he’ll keep my face stuffed in your pussy, licking our remnants to clean you up before he fucks you.” This was a calculated move. I knew exactly what I was doing as I said those words and pried her lower lips open with two of my fingers, prepared to feel her clench around my tongue as she realized what I was implying.

“B-Bucky?” She repeated, and I could only chuckle against her wetness as she writhed over me. So sweet, both in taste and in personality. I can see why he had fallen for her. Such a pretty little thing, so unaware of her allure.

“Oh yeah, darling. You have no idea how badly he has wanted you.” Finally leaving her pussy to watch her face as she tried to get a grip over what I was telling, I pushed two of my fingers in her hole, listening for the sopping sounds my thrusts made as I continued my taunts.

“He’s been talking about fucking you ever since you started working at the tower, sweetheart. I was the one who originally opposed it because I didn’t think you’d be up for the things we’d like to do to you… But tonight, you’ve gone ahead and turned the tables on me, haven’t you? Thinking I was the innocent one, when you’re always walking around so cutely in dresses like the one I ripped from you,” tsking, I continued, “He would have loved you in that dress, such a shame you won’t be able to wear it anymore. But I’ll buy a new one, and then you’ll let him fuck you in it, won’t you, princess? You’ll be our good girl now, huh?” I watched her orgasm hit her right before my eyes, grinning from ear to ear as I kept my movements quick and harsh against the spot that made her try to escape me. Shame, I’d never let her go.

“You’re aching for it, aren’t you, darling? Desperate to feel both of our cocks in your tiny holes, filling you from both ends. Maybe you’ll even take two at once, huh? Can’t wait to play with you until you’re so used to our cocks we’ll just slide right in, princess.” Now my cock was throbbing, desperate to fill her up with more cum so I could just lick it all off again later. So, albeit reluctantly, I got up and grabbed her by the hips, throwing her on the bed before turning her around and raising her fantastic ass up.

“I think I’ll fuck you like this again. Keep grabbing this ass so I can leave my mark in it, just like I left my cum in you.” I slapped it once, watching it bounce as my handprint quickly appeared on her soft skin. Then, I yanked her up by her hair, just so I could whisper in her ear.

“Beg me for my cock, c’mon. Beg me to fill this pretty pussy.” I loved how every little thing I did left her whiny and out of breath, not to mention absolutely dripping on my bed. Perhaps she truly wasn’t prepared for all we’d do to her, but I could see now that leaving her completely mad with desire was more than half of the fun.

“Fuck me, Captain! Please! Please, I need your cock. I need it so bad.” The pure, unadulterated need in her voice had me groaning, and I finally stopped stroking myself to push her down again before finally spearing her with my cock. It felt like ages since our fuck in the bathroom, and feeling her tight walls struggle to adjust to my thickness was torture in the best possible way.

“I can’t wait to choke you with my cock later,” I warned as I began fucking her. It didn’t take long for her arms to falter, and she fell head first on the mattress, but I didn’t stop, simply adjusted myself so I’d be laying on top of her.

“You say that like you’ll still want me.” I snorted, biting her in warning. Although I did understand where her insecurity came from, the idea of her being nothing more than a one night stand felt so ludicrous, it was impossible to keep myself from laughing as I secured her arms by her head, slowing my movements but deepening them.

“Darling, I didn’t watch Bucky cum over and over again while screaming your name only to fuck you twice and ignore you the next day. Oh no. This is how you’re going to be now, every single day for the rest of your life: filled by me or Bucky or both of us at the same time. So you better get used to the idea, and soon.”

I rested my chin on her back, softly running my fingers through her hair so I could keep it away from her face before I pulled her back for a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. “You’re ours now, sweetheart.”

#my fics #steve rogers smut #smut #steve rogers #steve rogers reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers ff #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers oneshots #steve rogers insert #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines

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tobiosmilktea · 3 years

Text

red ink — semi eita

2.5k words | genre/s: tattoo shop!au, friends with benefits, smut | warning/s: uhh badly written nsfw | pairing: musician!semi x tattoo artist!reader

↪︎ in which famous musician, semi eita is a regular at your tattoo parlor and only gets work done from you and you only. the only catch is that fans only know that much and definitely not the fact that you and him are friends with benefits.

a/n: happy belated bday for my good friend @kitsunetea. here’s my shameless second (third?) attempt at writing smut as a late bday gift bc fuck it, amirite haha ✋🏻😔

please take it easy on this one,, this is singlehandedly one of the worst nsfw pieces i’ve ever written and i just want to apologize in advance...

semi had forgotten the tingling feeling of a tattoo gun striking away at his skin. he liked how each indent of minuscule pinpricks would leave a mark on him forever. the pain, though not enough to make him grit his teeth like the first time around when he impulsively got one on the side of his ribcage, was actually quite nice. the sensation was almost addictive, however, it wasn’t as nearly as addictive as you.

it was no shock nor surprise that each reveal of his newest tattoo was always done by you. most would understand the practicality of going to one tattoo artist consistently. if anything, most of his fans would come to believe that he simply just liked your style of tattooing and artistry, but no one would even claim to think that you two had even a pinch of something going on behind the scenes. it wasn’t like he would always stop by your shop all disguised and covered up in a black cap and a face mask just in case there were any hidden onlookers that would blatantly assume the worst.

the worst being that semi eita, the nation’s current rockstar heartthrob, was hooking up with some obscure, back alley tattoo artist.

but it was safe to say he was as addicted to you as he was addicted to the infamous pain of receiving a tattoo.

it had been ages since his last tattoo. this one especially was placed on his right forearm of a snake that spiraled up and around his wrist in red ink.

times like these—here, where your eyes are focused and locked onto his skin, making sure to capture each intricate detail, brows drawing together in concentration as you made swift and accurate runs over his skin—came to realize how much he missed the feeling of getting tattooed. but most importantly, he missed the feeling of you. the warmth of your skin, body blazing underneath him as your breath tickled at the nape of his neck.

at moments like these where he could just stare at your entirety for an hour and a half, admiring how the low lights cast shadows upon each and every curve of your body was enough to keep him occupied through the process.

you lifted your tattoo gun up as your other gloved hand wiped the area clean from any residual ink. you took one last look at your work, clean and well-done.

it was pretty good if you could say so yourself. the linework was easily one of your best, and the shading was even better. no wonder semi liked getting work done by you so much (other than the fact that you two are friends with benefits—he would joke, “i’ll give you the best night of your life and you can give me a free tattoo in return.”)

you’ve never seen that man back out of a joke that quickly in your life. regardless, you still found yourself taking him up on that offer, still paying for his tattoos as a good customer should. support local businesses as they always say.

“alright,” you say, breaking the last ten minutes of silence as you cleaned him up. “you already know the drill–gently wash it with warm soap and water at least twice a day, pat dry, and then apply ointment.”

semi looked up at you once you stood up to grab a box of saniderm from another station. he stands up, making his way to one of the large mirrors on the wall to inspect his tattoo as a smile crept onto his lips.

“how is it?”

“it’s perfect,” he says, “as always.”

“well, you shouldn’t expect anything less from me.”

“you know, you don’t have to be so professional all the time. the shop’s already closed and no one else is here but us.”

you give him a pointed look as you take out a strip of saniderm large enough to cover the circumference of his forearm. you press the thin plasticine carefully around his freshly bruised skin, peeling the protective backing off of the clear bandage. “technically, you’re still a customer. can’t really give you any more special treatment.”

“says the girl who literally gives me tattoos after the shop closes,” semi fires back.

“or you could actually come in during normal hours to get one instead of coming a minute before we close just so we can hook up,” you deadpan, ignoring the look he gave you as you turn around and made your way towards the front desk.

semi doesn’t miss a single beat in following right behind you, stopping in front of the counter as you were on the other side with the cash register.

“well if you didn’t want to fuck in the back room anymore, you could’ve just told me,” says semi as you tap away at the screen in front of you, “we can go to my apartment instead.”

“paying with card again?” you ask, completely ignoring the way your body heated up all of a sudden.

the musician in front of you nods, handing you his card quickly. you take the thin plastic out of his hand and swiped it in one quick motion, handing it to him once the machine properly reads his card. within seconds, the receipt comes out of the printer. you snatch it from the opening before shoving it into semi’s chest.

“so what do you say?” he presses, continuing to follow you around like a dog as you serpentine your way back to your station.

you let out a sigh, huffing as you start cleaning up, “about what?”

“about me taking you home. maybe spend the night?”

you swerve around to face him, a spray bottle of disinfectant in one hand and paper towels in the other. you give him a coy smile, “you’re funny,” you huff before pushing past him to spray the chair then wiping it down.

“come on, (y/n), it’s been a while since we’ve last done anything together.” semi gives you a mischievous pout, “don’t you miss me?”

his words immediately flush out your cheeks as you recalled the memory so vividly, it was like you could almost feel semi’s large hands exploring every inch of your body, memorizing every dip and curve like it was second nature. to think that all happened in the storage closet while there were people still in the shop. the simple thought of your last rendezvous with him went straight to your heat.

no wonder you haven’t done anything with semi in a while after that little stunt he pulled almost a month ago.

in order for a tattoo shop to run properly, it needed to be completely sanitary to prevent any health complications considering your job was to literally puncture tattoo ink deep into people’s skin, the risk of infection runs high in situations like these. so by law, fucking in a tattoo shop, regardless if it was in the backroom, was completely out of regulations. not to mention the scandals to potentially spread like wildfire that one of the world’s favorite musicians being at the root of all this.

those poor fangirls, you thought. drama was the last thing you wanted.

“so?” you say, trying to pull yourself together as you finish sanitizing the chair. you turn to face him, hoping that he couldn’t see the way your cheeks were burning up knowing he would only keep up the teasing. “why don’t you just fuck one of you groupies or something?”

semi scoffs, “i’d never stoop that low. besides, you’re the only one i’ve been with ever since this started happening between us.”

“good for you for not being a whore, i guess?”

you brush past him again, this time cleaning up the mess on your table. placing the spray bottle of water, rolls of paper towels, bottles of red ink, and your gloves away–you discard anything else in the bin.

“don’t be like that,” he sighs as he comes and wraps a strong arm around your waist. he rests his chin on your shoulder, the tip of his nose tickling at your skin as his mouth latches onto your neck. “i for sure missed you.”

“eita,” you say, attempting to hold back a moan as he nipped at the sweet spot on your neck. despite your efforts, quiet mewls escape your lips as his thumbs rubbed circles over your hips. “i-i still have to clean up. let me finish and then maybe we could—”

without another word, semi lets go of you and immediately starts getting to work, gathering up all the one-time-use disposable items and dumping them all in the trash. he moves quickly, rubbing down every nook and cranny of your station until it’s squeaky clean. your eyes widen at his state. it was clear he wanted to get this over with as fast as possible so he can finally have you all to himself.

did he really yearn for you this much?

in just a few minutes, the job is already done. clean and spotless and ready for tomorrow’s workday as semi gives you a hopeful look. “is that all?”

you hold back a smile as you motion towards the boxes stacked up near the entrance of the backroom, “i still have to put those away and then we’re all done for the day.”

the man doesn’t even let you finish as he’s already making his way down the hallway. There was no sign of hesitancy in his actions as he grabbed two of the boxes, one stacked on top of the other as he barged into the backroom. you follow him in with only one box in your hand as you placed them in their respective places on the large industrial shelving.

you let out a grunt as you picked up the last box and inserting it into its spot. you sigh, dusting your hands as you turn around to face semi, “alright, we’re all d—”

semi doesn’t hesitate for a second to push you up against the wall, his lips crashing into yours with such desperation and fervor. he had been anticipating this for the past two hours. from the moment he walked in, to the moment you finished tattooing him; all he wanted was you.

you moan into his lips, his hand cupping your jaw while the fingers of the other were already working their magic. his touch greatly juxtaposed the zeal in the way he kissed you deeply, dipping his tongue between your soft lips as his finger, slightly calloused from years of guitar playing, gently trailed their way up your shirt.

there was a brief moment where you had to pull away from him in order to catch your breath. chest rising and falling rapidly along with the quickening beat of your heart, semi dived down to your neck, marking you with dark red bruising to anywhere he had access to. his large palms rubbed your sides before squeezing at your breasts to elicit a pleasurable groan from you. the pent-up heat within you only built the more he played with your body, fingers flicking at your nipples.

“what happened to taking me back to your place?” you asked breathlessly.

“i couldn’t wait any longer,” he mutters on your warm skin, feeling his soft lips twitch into a lopsided grin as before you knew it, he was already tugging your shirt over your head. “jump,” he says and you don’t miss a beat.

he catches you quickly, hands palming your ass as he steers you towards one of the supply tables. pushing away loose items and paperwork off to the sides.

semi’s lips meet yours again as he fiddles with the button and zipper of your jeans, diving his hand inside. he palms your sex, the pads of his fingers teasing up and down your slit as his thumb rubs circular motions around your clit. your moan muffles into his shoulder, breathe heavy and uneven.

you couldn’t seem to catch your breath as he dipped two fingers into you, pumping them in and out slowly. it was a nice change of pace from earlier, and yet you couldn’t help but let out mewls of impatience as you ground your hips into his hand, desperate for more.

semi knew what the hell he was doing.

he was a musician after all. his entire career was literally built off of his innate ability to play the guitar that each expertly placed finger and movement that accompanied it was guaranteed to send waves of pleasure throughout your entire body. he was good at what he did and he knew it. he didn’t need to see the way you were shaking under him, coating his hand with your juices, or have to hear your addicting moans to know you felt so, so good.

“eugh, eita–” your breath hitches when he curls his fingers inside you, rubbing the spongy spot deep within you in the best way possible. you curse under your breath, savoring the pleasure as you felt your release coiling in your abdomen.

“you’re close aren’t you?” semi didn’t even have to ask to know as your walls tightened around him. you nod hastily, eyes coating in lust and the desire to feel the release as you look at him.

the look that you gave him as enough to send him over the edge, his thoughts blurring once he quickens his pace, his middle and ring finger pistoning in and out of you.

you let out a cry, practically trembling under him. “oh my god, oh my god.”

with his other hand, he finds your clit again, rubbing you over the edge. it was all too much. from the mixing cacophony of the most obscene and vulgar sounds of sex emanating from the backroom to the absolute thrill of how good semi was making you feel—you were ready to feel that euphoric glow.

“fuck,” you clawed at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin even through the fabric of his shirt. “shit, baby, i’m gonna—”

semi doesn’t mind the sting of your scratches at his body as he was too busy paying mind to you cumming all over his hand. gushing fluid escapes from you in waves as semi continues pumping his fingers in and out of you, his pace matching with the way your walls pulsated around him.

as you came down from your high, your arms that rested on the table to hold you up felt weak. almost immediately, your body slumps onto semi as he licks your pleasure off his fingers. you bury your face into the crook of his neck as you both stayed there for a few beats to catch your breaths, savoring the unique afterglow whenever you were with semi.

perhaps it wasn’t so bad doing this type of thing with him a bit more often. you didn’t mind what you had with him right now even if you two were just friends with benefits. you liked what you had now and asking for more would certainly cause a strain you don’t want to happen so soon.

your hand reaches up to run through his soft hair.

“hey,” you softly say. he only responds with a hum, “what about you?” you ask as your eyes cast down to the straining tent in his jeans.

he doesn’t answer. instead, he places a few kisses on your cheek and down to your neck before placing one of your lips. “let’s continue this at home, i have a surprise for you.”

general taglist: @yongboxerrr @rosepetalhaven @tvwhoresblog @tanakaslastbraincell @kellesvt @kitsunetea @anejuuuuoy

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu fluff #semi eita #semi x reader #semi scenarios #semi imagines #semi smut #semi fluff

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fullsins · 4 years

Text

fuck it i’ll just repost

pairing: dom!hyuck x sub!reader

genre: literally pwp (it’s a sex tape, for god’s sake), a decent amount of fluff

word count: 4.2k

warnings (in mostly chronological order): consensual filming during sex, the color system, lingerie, praise and degradation, overuse of terms of endearment, obvious dom-sub dynamics, blowjob and mouthfucking, spit-swallowing and general messy bodily fluids (you know the drill), thigh-riding, choking, edging/ruined orgasm, slight dacryphilia (crying kink), mild humiliation kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it and if you choose not to, be aware of the possible repercussions), fingering, eating out, probably less foreplay than necessary but there’s some foreplay, mild manhandling, donghyuck thick cock agenda is back i’m so sorry, some nipple play type things mentions, mild overstimulation, cumming inside

a/n: they stop to talk during sex a lot and yes it’s on purpose because communication is key. also the ending is shitty but whatever

inspired by an ask @junguws got and a convo i had with @ja3minz

“you can talk, you know, we haven’t gotten started yet.” your boyfriend remarks offhandedly, his words light and conversational as he sets up a tripod and camera near the corner of your shared bedroom. if you were in any other situation right now, if you were an outsider to your relationship, you’d assume that he’s just taking some pretty shots of you, in your cherry red robe and coy smile. after all, donghyuck looks relaxed as all hell, clothes still on to the point that it’s maddening for you.

you want nothing more than to feel his skin on yours, under your fingers and under your nails and between your teeth. dispelling this urge proves difficult.

“i don’t really know what to say,” you respond, words hoarser than expected because of how dry your throat is. you dart your tongue out to wet your lower lip as if it’ll help you any, and donghyuck, ever-observant, takes note of it with a small smirk on his face.

“how about reciting your colors for me?” his voice is uncharacteristically void of teasing, meaning that he really does want you to do as he asks. donghyuck’s tone is gentle for now, and you don’t want to jeopardize it. he may be rough, may be sadistic, may be trying, hell, he may even love to see you sob for him, but he has never put his pleasure above your comfort, and you know he never will. you’ve never felt safer than you do with hyuck.

“green for- for keep going, yellow for when i need a second, and red for stop.” they fall from your tongue easily, a second nature. your boyfriend smiles encouragingly at you, soft in his entirety for the moment.

“and if you can’t speak?”

“two taps for yes or keep going, three taps for no or slow down, and just keep tapping for stop.” you’re diligent in your recitation, and the way hyuck’s eyes fold in pride is enough for you to relax against the headboard of your bed. he turns back to the camera once more, making sure the set up will stand on its own and that it’s getting the entirety of the bed, before finally clicking it on so its recording and looking back at you.

“good girl,” he murmurs, almost as an afterthought as he steps away from the camera and trains his gaze on you entirely. donghyuck is surveying what’s his - that much is obvious as his eyelids sink slightly, his expression darkening. you don’t dare to move without his permission. “how about you open that robe for me, hm?”

you nod rapidly, already feeling yourself start to sink into yourself, mind empty save for the man at the foot of your bed. donghyuck, ultimately always fair, starts unbuttoning his shirt as you untie the ties of your robe, allowing the fabric to fall away from you to reveal a lingerie set in the exact same color. you watch, eyes hooded, as your boyfriend’s tan skin comes into view, soft and smooth and empyrean under the dimmed red LED lights that decorate the borders of the ceiling. donghyuck tosses his shirt aside, not registering how it lands on one corner of the bed. he doesn’t really care.

“knees.”

the single word has you scrambling, swinging your legs back underneath you and clasping your hands behind your back. it’s a position you know well, and you know that if you stray from it, you’ll have no respite from the teasing wrath you’ll have to endure. donghyuck unbuckles his jeans, only pushing them down low enough to expose the waistband of his boxers before he climbs onto the bed, moving so he’s directly in front of you. you don’t even have to be told as you shuffle backwards, the soles of your feet eventually hitting the base of the bed’s backboard.

donghyuck chuckles at this, enamored by how easily he has you eating out of the palm of his hand. he hasn’t even touched you yet.

once he’s in front of you, he stands up so you’re eye-level with his prominent bulge. hyuck shoves his boxers down just slightly, pulling his hardening cock from the cloth confines and tugging slightly on it once before leaning over and grasping the headboard with his other hand. he makes sure that he isn’t blocking the camera’s view by straightening himself slightly. you’re mentally grateful the ceiling fan is off, though you have no time to dwell on that as the tip of donghyuck’s cock bobs in front of your face.

without thinking, you reach up, though you don’t touch, not until hyuck gives a small nod, signalling for you to go ahead. gingerly, you wrap one hand around it as best you can, only tightening your grip once hyuck groans out loud, bucking into your hand ever-so-slightly. this gives you the confidence to drag your hand up towards the tip, watching, enraptured, as precum dribbles out of his slit and onto your hand. you smear the slick substance along his shaft on the downstroke, your pussy clenching at how much you find yourself wanting to take him into your mouth.

“can - can i...” you trail off, looking up at the man above you with the best doe eyes you can muster. he raises an eyebrow, and you find that you aren’t surprised. hyuck has never given you anything that easily.

“words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words. what do you want?” his tone is deceptively gentle, and you let out a soft, light sigh.

“i want... can i suck your cock, please, hyuck?” your hand moves of its own accord as you ask for permission, squeezing and tugging lightly along his shaft, thumbing over his tip in the way that makes him grind shallowly against your palm.

“i’ll do you one better,” he grunts out, the timbre of his voice forcing you to rub your thighs together to alleviate the pressure building in your lower stomach. “‘m going to fuck your mouth. open up, baby. wide, for the camera.”

how can you say no to that voice? on impulse, your lips part the moment he finishes his command, maneuvering so his cockhead rests against your lower lip. he pushes your fingers off of his dick, gripping it in his own hand and stroking once, twice, before shallowly thrusting into your mouth, testing the waters just a bit. when you show no perturbation at the intrusion, hyuck moves the hand at the base of his cock up to your hair, tangling it amongst your strands.

in no time at all, he’s set an inhuman pace on your throat, choking you with every thrust as you gargle around his dick. donghyuck’s grunts are music to your ears, even as the slick sounds of a blowjob fully permeate the air. your hands fly to his thighs to steady yourself and to keep your momentum forward so your head doesn’t continuously knock against the backboard behind you. you’re hyper-aware of his fingertips pressing against your scalp, your nails scraping against his jeans, the ache between your legs as your bed creaks with how hard donghyuck is rocking it. a mixture of precum and spit drool from your mouth, leaking at the sides, and your boyfriend must be well-aware of this because he pulls out of your mouth entirely, moving aside so you’re on show for the camera.

you’re gasping for air, tears budding at the corners of your eyes as you try to ease the burden of your abused throat. it’s just the way he likes it. the minuscule green light that’s staring directly at you brings you back to earth, and you know that when you inevitably rewatch the tape you’ll see a fucked out you, gaping at the camera, a mess on your face and over the tops of your breasts, eyes vacant of everything but lust.

“you like this? you like having how much of a whore you are for my cock recorded for forever?” donghyuck coos, telling moreso than he’s asking. he sinks down to his knees, jeans sliding down his thighs slightly, and cups your face with a gentleness you don’t expect. his cock is angry, harder than ever, and you suddenly want it back in your mouth. you want nothing more than to make hyuck cum.

“answer me.” this time he really does command you, eyes boring into yours, and you nod your head vigorously, not wanting to be reprimanded. you’re good for donghyuck, you’re always good for him.

“pretty baby’s all fucked out without even being touched,” he smirks, shuffling so he’s leaning over you, mouth directly over your own. “pathetic little sweetheart. at least you’re my pathetic darling. open.”

you comply, already too far gone to do anything else. donghyuck chuckles at how pliant you are before squeezing your cheeks together slightly, forcing your lips closer to his. you only see his eyes, his dark, blown-wide pupils as he lets a droplet of his spit fall onto your waiting tongue. you don’t move, knowing full well what he’ll want you to do next.

“look at the camera before you swallow. there you go, that’s a good slut,” he murmurs approvingly as you do as he tells, going so far as to lean forward as you swallow to show off how great your tits look from the top from your lingerie set. hyuck places a hand on your covered ass, and you tense immediately simply because of how badly you want him. still, you feel him falter, drawing his hand away from you slightly, before softly turning your face back to face him. when he speaks again, he sounds like everyday donghyuck, the one you love outside of the bedroom. “color, princess?”

“green,” you respond immediately, mustering up your sweetest smile. “i’m all good, love.”

“good,” your boyfriend mirrors your look for a moment before his features settle back into his teasing demeanor, and you watch as he presses his back against the backboard and spreads his legs slightly. “then you’re going to ride my thigh. take the camera off it’s stand and c’mere.”

it’s all you can do to get up on your shaky legs and grab the camera before crawling over to him, swallowing to moisten your drying throat before settling on top of one of his jean-clad thighs. donghyuck’s dick is still out and still very much hard, but he says nothing of it, only holding his hand out silently for you to give him the recording device that’s currently capturing his hooded eyes. donghyuck gestures for you to situate yourself on his thigh as he takes the camera from you, and once he’s got the camera pointed where he wants it, he flexes his thigh and taps your ass - hard - to force you to rut against the denim.

much to your chagrin, his free hand soon finds purchase in your waist rather than around your throat, and he controls your grinding as best he can. the friction between the denim, the cloth of your panties, and your clit is delicious, and you find that the faster donghyuck forces you against his thigh the less you can even speak, only capable of letting out whimpers and whines and broken chants of his name.

“take your bra off, darling.” your boyfriend eventually murmurs, his grip on your waist not letting up. you take a moment to process his command before stuttering out an affirmation and reaching back to undo your lingerie top. you allow it to fall off you, landing in between you and donghyuck, the lace brushing against his cock when it lands in a way that has him groaning. you pick it up and toss it somewhere - you have no clue where it lands - before resting your hands against hyuck’s chest and quickening your pace. he reaches up, twisting one of your nipples between his thumb and index finger in a way that always has you keening.

the moan you let out on instinct is one of the most depraved noises you’ve ever made. your head falls back immediately as your eyes slide shut, and even though you aren’t surprised when donghyuck’s free hand climbs your body to press against the sides of your throat once more, you still let out a whimper at the contact. donghyuck, for his part, is panning the camera down, down your fucked out face and his hand on your throat and your heaving chest and your soaked lingerie-clad core rubbing deliciously against his thigh. your eyes well up from all of it: the friction, the breathplay. you’re almost at your breaking point.

by the way your moans grow raspier and breathier, by the way you can’t even fully say his name anymore, your boyfriend knows that you’re close. it’s obvious, especially considering how well he knows your body.

it’s for this reason that he forcefully grabs one side of your hips and grinds you down against his jeans only one more time before halting you, his fingertips digging into the soft skin of your waist to ensure that you don’t move any more.

“fuck!” you cry out in immediate indignance, unable to stop yourself from glaring at donghyuck as a tear finally drops from your waterline, sliding down your face at having been denied your orgasm. “fuck, please,” you whine out, more tears slipping down your face. “i’ve been good.”

hyuck says nothing, only chuckling slightly as he brings the camera up to your face. you always look so beautiful when you’re in tears for him. the realization that you’re being recorded in such a state has you whimpering, sobbing even harder. through your haze of tears, you try to rut yourself down on his thigh again to bring back your quickly fading orgasm, but donghyuck stops you easily, even going so far as to tut at you as if you should know better.

you suppose you should.

“do that again and i’ll spank you,” he says, shifting and gently pushing you off of his thigh. “but maybe baby would like that, hm? rewatching video of your pretty ass bent over my lap?”

you say nothing, only sniffling over your ruined orgasm. donghyuck finds this either adorable or hilarious, you aren’t sure which, and can’t keep himself from grinning slightly at the way you’re acting. it’s bratty of you to stay upset, you know this, but for whatever reason, you can’t stop yourself from furrowing your brows at your boyfriend. on his part, he only quirks an eyebrow in tandem with one corner of his mouth before languidly wiping your face free of tears.

the camera is still trained on your face. you must look like an absolute mess - there’s tears in your eyes, staining your cheeks. there’s some drool still around the corners of your mouth from when you’d sucked his cock, some of his precum still sticky around your lips. you look filthy, but you know that, too hyuck, you also look beautiful.

he says something, but you miss it. donghyuck reaches out and squeezes your cheeks in his free hand, forcing your lips to part from each other and pucker out. it catches you off guard, but you can’t lie and say that it doesn’t cause you to whine out in arousal.

“i said,” he reiterates, pulling your face closer to his easily with the grip he has on you. “will you be good for me?”

your bratty demeanor fades instantly as you gaze into his eyes, and you find that all you want in the moment is him. no more teasing, or playing, just him. you must appear the slightest bit unfocused, though, and taking into consideration the fact that you haven’t answered him yet, donghyuck lets go of your face, instead thumbing over your bottom lip gently as he cups your cheek.

“color, baby?”

“green,” you breathe out, though it’s obvious that you’re needier now than you were moments before - a feat in and of itself. “i just- i just want you. please? i’ve been good. mostly good. i’ve been okayish, and- ”

“you’ve been very good, darling,” donghyuck interrupts before you ramble, his eyes softening entirely. “tired of playing? do you want me to turn off the camera?”

“no!” you respond a little over-excitedly, face heating up as you realize how hasty you sound. donghyuck’s smirk tells you that he’s realized the same thing, so you rush to explain yourself. “i mean, i kind of like it, and i want to rewatch it someday. i want to film you too, though. can we just do missionary?”

“we can do whatever you want.” your boyfriend agrees readily, pulling you down to him to press a soft kiss, one that you rarely get in the bedroom, against your lips. he hands you the camera a moment later, and you shuffle backwards slightly so you can capture him as he shoves his jeans off, his boxers following seconds later. the sight of his erect cock, tip flushed and achingly hard, has your mouth drying out. without thinking, you lean over, suckling the tip in your mouth and swirling your tongue over his head on instinct.

one of hyuck’s hands flies to your hair, and the other takes the camera back from you, intent on capturing your ministrations. you force yourself to take all of him into your mouth - the hand massaging your scalp helps push you down - and suction before coming back up for air, a rivulet of drool creating a steady stream down your chin.

“shit,” donghyuck groans out, zooming in on the mess he’s made of your mouth. “you’re everything, baby. get situated or i’ll put you in position myself.”

you don’t hesitate to listen, crawling over to the center of the bed like always. donghyuck gets up off of the bed, and you know if you don’t move towards the edge of the bed he’ll pull you down by the ankles. he’s always preferred to keep his feet on solid ground. as you expect, he walks over to stand at the foot of the bed, cock standing proud in front of him. when you finally lay down on your back, exactly in the position he wants you, donghyuck sinks to his knees, making sure both him and the camera are eye-level with your soaked underwear. typically, he would tease you, maybe even make you cum in your panties first before even thinking about coming on his cock. tonight, though, he only pulls them off of your legs, throwing them out of your line of sight.

he leans up and places the camera on your stomach, and that’s when you realize he isn’t quite done with foreplay just yet. you grab ahold of the recording device and fumble it into such a way that it’s filming your boyfriend perfectly as he leans in and simultaneously takes your clit between his tongue and upper teeth and presses two of his fingers into your core.

“d- shit, hyuck!” you cry out, hips arching off of the bed without much stimulation. donghyuck doesn’t let up, doesn’t even bother to pin your hips down as you begin grinding against his face of your own accord. his fingers continue to work you open as you shakily film his light brown mop of hair moving between your legs. he glances up, eyes meeting the camera, and has the audacity to wink at it before diving back in, tongue lapping at your wet heat as if it’s donghyuck’s last meal on earth.

just as you’re about to finally cum, he pulls away, dragging his two wet fingers across your inner thigh and removing his mouth from where you need it most. the whine you let out is high and pathetic, and donghyuck laps up the arousal he’s just spread across your skin as a show of pity. he bites down, tugging the skin between his teeth once he’s finished, drawing forth another, desperate moan from between your lips.

“i take it that you’re ready for me, then?” he asks cheekily, rocking back up on the balls of his feet and straightening himself up to standing until he looks like he’s towering over you. you can’t even speak, you’re so pent up: instead, you nod frantically and spread your legs in tandem. “you don’t need any more foreplay, princess?”

“fuck foreplay,” you manage to grit out, desperately in need of your boyfriend inside of you. “just put your goddamn dick-”

he shoves himself into you without warning, forcing you to cut your own tirade off with a choked moan. donghyuck allows you to get used to the stretch, only grinding very, very shallowly as you get both yourself and the camera situated. once you give him a go ahead, he gently pulls one of your legs over his shoulders, causes you to tighten impossibly around his thick cock. your boyfriend hisses at how warm, how wet, how impossibly vice-like you are, his hips stuttering as he starts thrusting into you at a pace that makes it very evident that he, too, is pent up.

you use the leg not hooked over his shoulder to wrap around his waist, forcing him even deeper than you thought possible. the string of swears that falls from donghyuck’s mouth at this is music to your ears, and you’re on cloud nine even as he slaps at the inside of your thigh as a reprimand for seeking any semblance of control.

“i’m in charge here, baby,” he grunts out, voice managing to be both sugary sweet and dangerous at the same time. “don’t forget it.” with this, he leans close, jackrabbiting into you as best he can in the position you’re both in. you’re about to cum - you can feel it, spreading through your body as if you’re on fire. usually, you would last longer, but you’ve been on edge long enough, having been soaked since your boyfriend first stuffed his cock down your throat.

now that his dick is finally inside of you, veins scraping deliciously against your walls in a way that reminds you his girth is both a blessing and a curse, but mostly a blessing, you can’t help but start to clench erratically around him, your breathing picking up as you near your orgasm. donghyuck, for his part, wets one of his thumbs on his tongue and presses it against your clit, rubbing in quick circles as his thrusts start to speed up, matching his raspy pants of breath. he moves your calf off his shoulder, causing both of your legs to lock around his waist as he fucks into you like there’s no tomorrow.

donghyuck leans in close, close enough to place his lips right at your ear. just as your body shows signs of beginning to seize up in pleasure, he whispers a ‘come for me, love. now.’ before biting down sharply on your earlobe. that’s all it takes for your pleasure to overcome you, your back arching off of the bed and forcing your chest up into your lover’s face, something he welcomes wholeheartedly. donghyuck, not having reached his peak yet, continues to grind into you.

you can sense he’s getting closer by the way his hips seem to move of their own accord, donghyuck mindless in pleasure. as you do your best to clench around him once more, to coax his orgasm out of him, he mouths over your breasts, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth right as his hips finally, finally stutter to a standstill inside of you, cum spurting into your warm walls. you can’t help the long, low moan you let out at the mild overstimulation you’re feeling, and donghyuck reaching up to flick at your other nipple does nothing to help the sensations that are overcoming you.

once he’s done slowly grinding his cum back into you, , hyuck forces you to unlock your legs from his waist. wordlessly, he takes the camera from you, stepping back to aim it at your abused, sopping core, eagerly filming the way his cum drips out between your swollen lips and onto the bedspread. he supposes he’ll have to run a washer/dryer cycle soon.

“my pretty baby,” he coos, looking up at your fucked out expression once he’s done. “took me so well.” with a final zoom in on your face, a testament to how good you’ve been for him and how good he’s made you feel, he turns the camera off, making sure that all of the footage from today has been saved. once he puts it up, he goes to the bathroom and returns with a damp rag, and you let your legs fall open so he can wipe at the mess he’s made of you. he runs the other side of the rag gently over your face, picking up on whatever fluids are still left on you. once he’s down, donghyuck leans in, pressing the softest of kisses against your lips.

“want me to run a bath?” he asks, though, judging by the way he says the words you can tell he’s at least mildly tired. you shake your head, holding your arms out instead. your boyfriend chuckles at you, though you notice that he doesn’t hesitate to clamber into bed beside you, pulling your naked form close to his own after tossing the rag.

“just want you right now,” you say once he’s shifted so that your head rests against his chest. he hums in agreement, lifting a hand to gently run it through your hair.

“just want you always.”

#first #five #tags #don't #work #haechan #haechan smut #donghyuck #donghyuck smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut

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kashimos-hajime · 3 years

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I crawl into ur askbox. I leave u brat taming carillo w the prompts “bite your lip once more, i dare you” + “come on. i want the neighbours to hear you scream” What do u do

ALOS. Once more. I love u and congrats on 4k!!!!!!! 🥶😈❄️💖

i scream at the gods, “I AM HORNEEEEEE!!!@!@!@!” they do not answer. i write 1.2k of smut.

HI MAAM you are braVE FOR REQUESTING THIS TO ME OF ALL PEOPLE AND I KINDA wanted to continue so badly but um LKMASDKLNASD THANK YOU FOR BEING MY FREND, I LOVE YOU!!!

warning: NSFW LMAOOO (18+), choking, mentions of edging, overstim, marking, subtle sir kink, sub/dom elements, girl you just getting your brains FUCKED OUT

some translations (correct me if im wrong please!!):

tengo una cita=i have a date mi alma=my soul corazón=heart hermosa=beautiful

“Bite your lip once more, I dare you.” + “Come on. I want the neighbours to hear you scream.”

Your eyes roll back into your head as a hand wraps around your throat, a ragged, starved mouth claiming yours once more as hips jerk against your own, skin to skin, heat on heat. Everything is burning and you can’t even see as he tears himself away from you, pulling you away from the edge that you’re so wound up on. A coil tightens and you just want to be free. To just fall apart but no. No, you don’t deserve that today.

Not when he’s been railing you, teasing you with his fingers, fucking you and eating you out, for the past two fucking hours and has no intention on stopping.

“I had plans and I just thought you were tired.”

“Tired?” Carrillo squeezes your neck gently and leans down. “‘Tengo una cita’ was your excuse not to come home with me?” he growls into your ear “Try that again the next time you want to play coy, and see what happens.” He grabs hold of your hair, fists it tight and yanks it back, exposing your neck and your mouth opens in a gasp as he sucks a mark right underneath your ear, smirking. “Come for me, corazón. I want the neighbours to hear you scream.”

He bites at your jaw, your neck, mark you until you’re shown as his for days before he noses his way back up to your panting mouth. Another sharp thrust sends a jolt of euphoria and your eyes flutter shut as he grabs your jaw.

“It was true, sir,” you manage to snipe at him. “He was young, handsome, tall. He liked me, senōr…” He squeezes your face, a warning, and brushes a thumb over your swollen lip, eyes scanning your face. Your tongue teases the pad of this thumb as his hips still against yours and an impatient moan escapes your lips. Your hands trace the swell of his chest, the bulging biceps of his arms, and there is raw power thrumming underneath his skin, golden and hazy in the barely lit room. His thumb pushes into your mouth and you wrap around it diligently but he simply shakes his head, disgusted, ripping his hand away before you can coax him deeper with your tongue.

“Using men to make me jealous is below you. We both know you only want one thing.” His other hand on your hip angles and he sinks himself to the hilt once again, your over-sensitized walls tight around him and he snarls against your cheek, moving his hand back to your throat as he thrusts into you. Eyes slipping shut, your mouth falls open shamelessly.

“Horacio.” His name slips from your lips, your chest heaving and his dark gaze snaps to yours, filled with lust and one of your hands cradles his face as his pace increases until wave after wave of bliss begins to overwhelm you once again. Thighs clenching, you feel them begin to slip against the sweat-slick skin of his waist but he reaches down with the hand on your hip, keeping you steady. Your muscles are melted and you thrash your head to the side, biting your lip and trying to stifle the groan begging to rip free but an index finger gently nudging your jaw warns you. Clutching onto the bed sheets, you try to remember how to breathe.

“Bite your lip once more, I dare you,” he whispers huskily, open mouth panting against your jaw. Your hip jolts with his next thrust and he hits the spot that has you keening, clenching so hard you think you might scream as he lets out a harsh, gritted groan against your jaw. “Shit. Fuck, are you close already? Again? You feel—so tight.“

“I am, mi amor. I’m close. I’m so close,“ you breathe, nonsense ramblings spilling out of your chest. “Please, please, I’m so close. Don’t stop—no! No, please don’t stop.” Your fingers fly to his arms, sink into his skin and your stomach clenches. Dragging himself through your slick, Carrillo grunts and hips snap against yours again, jackhammering until you reach that precipice once more and he knows you so well that he can tell when you can take one more deadly push, when you can’t. You haven’t cum in what you feel like has been days as he lowers your leg back to the mattress, reaches down with his free hand to press a thumb agains your clit and your vision nearly blacks out as your arch up against him, head digging into the mattress, his name torn out of your throat in a wail.

But you don’t cum.

No, he knows your body more intimately than you do. He knows all he has to do is just command you to, and you will.

But he doesn’t.

His unforgiving pace slows and you let out a furious groan of frustration, turning your head to look at him, wanting to sob, and you catch his grin as he soothes your ravaged lip with a finger, a gentle teasing touch.

“Ah, now I am your lover?” he murmurs severely, their noses just barely brushing, raising his eyes to regard your face with pupils blown wide enough to swallow his irises. “What happened to having a date tonight, hermosa? Someone stronger, taller, more handsome. Younger.” You squeeze your thighs weakly, muscles gummy, scowling at him in retaliation as you try to get yourself to the finish line but then his hand leaves your clit, he pushes with one huge hand down on your navel and keeps you still with the sheer force of his command alone.

The waves recede—your stomach stops cramping, and you can start catching your breath again long enough for the disappointment to settle in.

And when he doesn’t budge, merely looms over you, you know you’re fucked. He lifts the hand from your abdomen, settles it by your head, holds himself up. His bicep glistens and you swallow at the sheer force in that arm alone.

Your hands find his face and you cradle him in your palms, just… looking at him. Soaking him in.

Jesus, he’s so handsome. The air smells of sex, his cologne, your perfume, their sweat and their love, and in the light that’s made edges go blurry, you’ve never seen anyone more beautiful.

“You should know by now I want no other man besides the Colonel of the Search Bloc.” Your thumbs brush over his cheeks and he lifts his hand from your throat to hold onto your wrist. He kisses your pulsepoint, eyes sliding shut. “No other man I’ve met can fuck me half as well.”

His grip on your wrist tightens.

Your free hand goes to his neck to pull him down just as you raise your head, and their lips barely brush as you whisper, “Now, fuck me, Colonel Carrillo. Or I’ll find someone who will.”

He slams your wrist to the bed. A raw, dark desire lingers in his eyes as he kisses you gently, an incinerating heat hiding behind the last piece of tenderness you will get for the night.

The neighbours hear more than your screams well into the morning.

Carrillo, you believe, has never slept better.

Your two favourite DEA agents visit Medellín that next afternoon while you’re visiting the office, dropping off coffee for Carrillo.

“Late night?” Peña laughs when your buttoned-to-the-collar shirt slips to reveal a peek of a completely bruised collarbone and neck, marked every inch.

Murphy’s more concerned by the fact that you can’t walk straight without your face screwing up.

Carrillo hides a smirk behind his newly delivered coffee.

You wonder if they’ll ever connect the days the Colonel’s in a good mood to the days you look like someone dragged you to aphrodisiac hell and back.

Probably won’t, but they’ve surprised you before.

join my 4k celebration!

#willowansweringasks #isabel #horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo x you #horacio carrillo imagine #horacio carrillo fic #narcos x reader #narcos #narcos fic #narcos imagine #narcos smut #my writing #hayleys4kcelebration

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

Text

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 12 | S.R.)

Summary: A week later, Reader tries to reconnect with Spencer. Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader   Category: Smut (NSFW)   Content Warning: Adults w/ Age Gap (10yrs), penetrative sex, degradation, Daddy kink, unprotected sex, BDSM, choking Word Count: 8.3k

MASTERLIST

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You might think that dating Spencer Reid would make doing your homework way easier, but you would be wrong. Turns out that dating a genius includes him lecturing you on the importance of learning things yourself.

That’s why I had been sitting at his kitchen table with him for at least two hours, struggling to finish the last five problems on my assignment while he casually read a book in a language I couldn’t even place.

“Speenceeerrr.” I called from across the table, reaching in his direction with the saddest pout I could form.

“Don’t whine,” he answered without even looking up. Jerk.

“I’m bored,” I continued to whine without any shame, “Can I come sit on your lap?”

“No.”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I realized he was in one of his stubborn moods. But that was fine. I could deal with stubborn.

“Please?” I asked, only to receive another immediate “No.”

This time I put both of my hands in front of me, pressing my breasts together while I leaned over the table as I asked, “… Pretty please?”

That was enough to get him to finally lower his book, peeking across the table to see me staring at him with wide doe eyes and a coy smile.

“You’re very cute,” he said with an extremely brief smile, returning back to his book when he concluded, “Still no.”

“Come on!” I cried with a groan, “I promise I’ll behave.”

He laughed at that, idly flipping a page before speaking. “Oh, you do? You promise?”

“Yes!”

“Fine. Bring your homework,” he instructed, gesturing to me to come over without ever putting down his book.

I scrambled to collect everything, happily padding over to him and dumping my book, notepad, and pencils in front of him. Once I was there, though, he suddenly raised his hand to stop me.

“Take off your pants.”

With a raised eyebrow, I shifted my hip to the side to inspect his suspiciously calm, vague demeanor.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

Considering that response was completely unhelpful but also incredibly hot, I listened. I tried to make a little bit of a show out of it, but his eyes were glued to the page in front of him until my pants finally hit the ground.

“Take off the rest.”

It was then that he started to look at me. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, licking his lips as he began undoing his own pants.

The sound of his buckle coming undone was enough to spark butterflies in my stomach, and I began removing my underwear with a renewed vigor.

“Don’t look so excited, little girl,” he warned in that low register that usually accompanied his more dominant persona. I considered arguing back, but ultimately just let out a playful giggle.

After he had finally removed his bottoms enough to reveal himself, I bounced on my toes as I waited for the command I knew was coming.

“Sit down.”

There it was. Allowing him to guide my hips to turn me around so that I was facing the table, I swung my leg over him to straddle his lap, lowering down onto him slowly.

And slow was the only word for it. He didn’t allow me to move more than an inch every few seconds, his breath hitching each time until I was fully seated on him.

I could feel the blood rushing to my face, my mouth hung open with hungry breaths. When I tried to begin moving my hips, however, he halted me with a firm grip on my hips.

He clicked his tongue in my ear, digging his fingers into my sides as he held me there. “I don’t think so. You’re going to sit here and stay very still until I tell you to move.”

“But—“ I barely got a word in edgewise before he countered.

“You promised to behave. Now do your homework. I want to finish what I’m reading.”

I huffed, struggling to move one more time and ultimately failing. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do your work and be patient and maybe I’ll fuck you, or get up and get nothing. Those are your options.”

I was certain that if I could see him, he would have that clever, devilish smirk he always wore when he was fucking with me. But I forced myself to keep my eyes straight ahead, leaning forward to grab my pencil from the table to hopefully finish my work quickly. If he wasn’t going to check it, I could just bullshit it.

Of course, as soon as my pencil hit the page he shifted underneath me in a very purposeful way, forcing himself even deeper into me.

“Fuck!” I gasped, gripping my pencil tighter as I arched my back.

“Language.”

With a deep breath, I forced a smile as I issued an extremely sarcastic apology.

“Sorry, daddy.”

After that he was much kinder, allowing me to work without any more rude interruptions. Granted, my maximum capacity to function was still very low, and it took me at least ten minutes to finish three of the five questions.

It was hard enough having him inside of me, the warm throbbing of his cock like an extension of myself at this point, but once he finished the book, it was a completely different level of impossible. Because no sooner did the book hit the table than were both of his hands on me.

One hand remained rooted on my hip, halting any attempts at movement while the other crept up to fondle my chest. I took the new ministrations to be permission to move, but he quickly cut off that train of thought as he leaned his chest against my back.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.”

“Daddy—“ I desperately whined, my hips moving with a mind of their own even as he tried to hold me down. Spencer was still dedicated to making it worse, moving my hair to one side and latching his mouth onto my neck.

“Keep going,” he mumbled into the skin.

So I tried. I cannot stress enough how hard I tried, my mind functioning much like a toddler being told to focus on math while sitting in front of a fucking funfetti birthday cake.

“Wrong.” Spencer whispered in my ear, his eyes apparently watching my botched attempts at my homework. With a general sound of displeasure, I erased my previous answer and changed it.

“Still wrong.”

Breaking the scene for just a second, I hoarsely begged, “Please, Spencer.”

He must have sensed my mounting frustration, because soon he was palming my breast much harder, his hand finally letting my hips begin to rock.

“Tell me, is it just because my dick is in you, or are you always this clueless?”

The breath left my lungs in short bursts, his words both hurtful and hot against my ear. I didn’t let it faze me, still scribbling some answer on the sheet while I spoke. “I-I told you before I can’t... I can’t focus when you’re inside me.”

He lowered his hands, running them down my bare thighs before dragging them back up, leaving angry red marks in his wake.

“You should’ve thought about that before you asked to sit on my lap.”

This time, he lightly nibbled on my ear once he stopped talking, laughing at the way a shiver ran through my body.

“I didn’t think you would do... this,” I quietly confessed.

“So you just wanted to tease me? And now you’re mad I beat you at your own game?”

Rocking back and forth, I groaned, “It wasn’t a game, I just wanted to sit on your lap!”

“And now you are sitting on my lap and you’re still whining.” He retorted, his hands returning to their heavy petting wherever they could reach.

“Because I want you to fuck me!”

“That wasn’t part of the deal.”

If I had been sexually frustrated before, now I was essentially feral. The harder I tried to move, the more he tried to stop me until I got fed up, forcing out a few hostile words.

“Fuck you.”

His hand flew up to my face, grabbing my cheeks roughly and forcing my lips to pucker.

“Watch your mouth.”

“Why would I listen to you if you aren’t going to fuck me?” I muttered through my contorted face, now struggling to lift off his lap.

He wasn’t having that, though, and roughly tugged me back down onto him while he thrusted up into me.

“Because I said so,” he ever so kindly reminded.

“Fuck!” I cried out at the rough intrusion, continuing with an even angrier exclamation, “Fuck you!”

“Fine.”

I’m not sure what it was about his voice when he uttered that one syllable, but dread coursed through my veins. I couldn’t tell exactly what was coming, but I knew he was going to have fun doing it.

“If you want me to fuck you, I will.”

Before I could protest, he had swept the items on the table onto the ground and lifted me off of him. He dropped me harshly against the table, standing so he could have the upper ground.

“After all, you have quite a bit of naughty behavior to answer for. And right now, I’m more than happy to administer the punishment.”

I rolled my eyes at the way he always managed to drag these things out. We both knew I was going to be a brat, so why waste our time with threats I clearly wanted him to follow through on?

“Just shut up and fuck me already.”

Spencer bitterly laughed, staring down at me with far too much amusement as his fingers brushed over my lips.

“How badly do you want it, little girl?” He said as he continued the trend of sudden, rough movements by shoving his fingers down my throat. “I should’ve warned you not to do anything to me you don’t expect me to do to you in return.”

Gagging lightly on his fingers pressing down against my tongue, I only felt my need for him to fuck me skyrocket. Through the lustful haze, I managed to remember what he had done to me in this situation… and how I had responded.

I bit down on his fingers just hard enough to leave a small indentation on them, and he jerked his hand back the same way I had.

His slap across my face was just as hard, too. The sound filled the room, and I had to bite back a moan at the way my cheek stung where his hand had hit.

When I turned my face back to him, I bit my lip before smiling.

“Do it again,” I giggled.

But he didn’t listen, because of course he didn’t. Instead, he grabbed my hips, flipping me onto my stomach on the table, my face pressed against the wood.

“I don’t take orders from you, bitch.”

Another shiver ran down my spine at his words paired with the sound of his belt slowly being removed from the loops of his pants.

“And honestly? I’m tired of hearing your voice.” He finished, his hand reaching around to open my mouth. He worked the belt between my teeth like a bit for a horse, tugging back on the material. With my head craned back, I began to rub my legs together, already missing the way it felt to be filled by him.

I tried to groan in disapproval, but it just came out as garbled noise. Spencer didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s been so long that you’ve forgotten I’m not as nice as you. That I’ve been taming brats a lot longer than you.”

For a moment I was left there just like that, laid out on his kitchen table for his consumption. I could tell from the silence that he was enjoying watching me squirm, taking in the brief image of me submitting to him without a fight.

But then the moment ended with one swift thrust into me. The force was enough to rattle the table and I grunted from the impact.

“If you’ve got a problem, don’t bother trying to tell me, because I don’t fucking care.” As he spoke, he gave a thrust after each clause, somehow becoming progressively more aggressive.

I’d felt him like this once before, although under different circumstances. This time he wasn’t just using me to get through pain. This was something else.

The freedom I could feel flowing between us was intoxicating, and for once in my life I didn’t want to fight him. I didn’t have to. He was already doing everything I could have ever asked of him.

At least, that’s what I thought until he started talking again.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he muttered under his breath, rolling his hips slowly to make sure he was fully entering me with each thrust. “You really love keeping your daddy’s cock warm, don’t you, little girl?”

It was always strange, to feel the duality of Spencer. The way that his words could sound so much like praise while littered with downright filthy words. Or how he used one hand to gag me with his belt and the other tenderly caressed my sides.

“You’re so good at being a pretty little slut for me. Letting me use you.”

His voice was so smooth, with a confidence I was unaccustomed to hearing from him. My fingernails scraped at the table, trying to fight against the way my entire body slid against the wood.

I could feel my muscles desperately clenching around him, my feet trying to remain on the floor. The light struggle didn’t go unnoticed, with a dark laugh coming from Spencer as he leaned over top of me, pressing me down with the weight of his body.

“I don’t understand how a slut like you has such a tight little cunt.”

A loud moan escaped from the little space between my teeth and the leather, and I could feel the saliva dripping down my chin. Tears had already started forming in my eyes, my cheekbone still raw from his hand now burning against the table.

“What’s it going to take to break you, huh? Or have I already?” He whispered as his fingers gripped my hips with bruising force.

“No fight left in you, little girl? You gonna give up? You gonna cry?” He mocked, earning my first attempt at a response. The gag got in my way, though, and it just came out as a wrecked sob as he entered me with another rough thrust.

“Speak up.”

The next noise out of my mouth was a guttural groan, my back arching enough to lift my face from the table and loosen the belt against my lips.

“Here, I’ll make it easier for you.” He said before using his hand to wrench the accessory from my teeth, tossing it in front of me on the table. I could see my teeth marks against the leather.

“S-Spe…” I tried, but couldn’t even finish his name. My mind seemed somewhere else, some place to which only he could take me. Nothing else mattered here; nothing except pleasing him.

Which is what made his nails against my skin so exciting. But still, it wasn’t nearly as exciting as the way he continued to laugh at the mess he made of me.

“How pathetic. You can’t even say my name? Doesn’t matter anyway.” He stood back up, providing him the leverage to drive further into me once more, pulling my hips back against him with both hands now.

“A useful cunt doesn’t talk. So don’t even think about bothering with your little safe word now. I’m not stopping until I’m finished taking what’s mine.”

I’m not sure if it was from the way my lips caught on the wood, how hard I was biting down on my lip, or a mark from the belt, but I could taste blood somewhere on my lips.

“Don’t stop.” My voice was weak and hoarse from disuse, but the words were audible, and that’s all I cared about.

I was a little surprised, though, when Spencer immediately withdrew. Then I realized that I had inadvertently given him another order, and he didn’t seem too happy about the fact it was one he wanted to follow.

With much more strength than needed, he lifted me by my arm and flipped me onto my back. My joints had given up even when the rest of me hadn’t, leaving me lolling like a rag doll under his will.

I could only imagine what he saw, my cheek only slightly less red than the blood tainted spit covering my chin as I held my body open to him.

The smirk on his face was positively feral, like a predator admiring his catch before going in for the kill.

“You’re so fucking filthy. You actually like this, don’t you?”

When I didn’t immediately answer, he brought his hand against my cheek much lighter this time. Although I knew it wasn’t a smart response, I couldn’t help but giggle at the way it caused goosebumps to ripple over my skin.

His hips snapped forward, entering me completely all at once. Spencer couldn’t stop himself from moaning, belying his stoic nature in scenes like this. He was enjoying himself so much that he couldn’t hide it anymore, and the thought just made my heart beat harder.

“Fuck me harder, daddy!” I suddenly begged, rocking my hips forward in time with his thrusts.

“God, you’re such a dirty bitch,” he responded, doing exactly what I’d asked by driving into me as the table screeched against the floor. It didn’t last long, with his hand coming up to my throat and clenching my airway within seconds. There was no warning this time.

“You’re nothing but a little toy that likes being fucked like a cheap whore.”

I would have screamed out in agreement, but I could barely manage to breathe under his unrelenting grip. Instead, my eyes began to roll to the back of my head, my mouth open in an attempt to take in any air.

“Go ahead, go to sleep, little girl. I don’t need you to be awake for this part.”

The butterflies in my stomach had migrated to my chest, filling every inch of space that used to be filled with air. The burning in my face was even hotter now, and I honestly felt I might collapse in on myself if he didn’t finish soon.

Luckily, his hips began to falter the longer he watched me scraping at his hand on my throat. With one more thrust, he threw his head back with closed eyes.

The sweat on his brow showed just how much of himself he gave to this moment, and I couldn’t have been more grateful. Seeing him come undone inside of me was one of my favorite past times.

“Fuck!” He growled through clenched teeth. His fingers twitched harder against my neck as I felt him spill his release deep inside of me, his hips still trying to push further into me. Once he opened his eyes, it’s like he suddenly remembered that I still hadn’t taken a breath, my face draining of color before he quickly lifted his hand.

I gasped, my lungs both burning and finally relaxing as they filled with air. My energy nearly drained, I hoped to god that he wasn’t planning on making me move anytime soon. For once, I was actually grateful that he hadn’t tried to get me off, too. I’m not sure I could take it.

I closed my eyes and laughed to myself about the irony of me not protesting him staying inside me now. Soon enough, he had pulled out of me, muttering another string of curse words as he tried to find the ability to walk the few feet over to the counter.

The sound of running water felt so far away and so serene. I smiled, knowing what was coming before it happened.

Sure enough, his hands were on me once more, cleaning away the evidence he’d left behind with a warm paper towel.

My face was last, with him taking extra care to be gentle. My eyes fluttered open, looking at the way he seemed to look straight into my soul, seeking any validation he could find that I was going to be alright.

“How are you, little girl?” He asked anyway, and I just sucked my bottom lip into my mouth as I smiled.

“Dirty.”

I had meant it as a joke, but I could see a flash of guilt in his eyes. Grabbing his forearm, I started to try to sit up against my body’s wishes. Something told me he needed me to be closer to him. He needed me to be okay.

“Can you stand up?” He asked, supporting my body weight with both hands on my back.

“Yeah, I think so,” I laughed.

Once I was upright, I realized that while he was still fully dressed, my legs were fucking freezing. Spencer noticed, too, and already had a plan in place for this situation.

“Let me clean you up.”

“You already did,” I responded with a nervous glance when his fingers ran through a piece of my hair hanging in my face. He just gave me that judgmental, deadpan expression that told me he knew I was trying to get out of something.

“Come on,” he said with a light pat on my ass before guiding me towards the bathroom. “We need to warm you up, anyway.”

I couldn’t argue with that; honestly, the idea of a shower sounded delightful. Still, some part of me felt strangely awkward about something so intimate. I clearly wasn’t nervous about him seeing me naked.

The thought of him taking care of me, delicately cleaning away any remaining evidence of sin, just got me much too excited. It didn’t take me long to realize that my apprehension wasn’t going to stop him.

He kept his hand wrapped around mine the whole time, even as he turned on the shower and checked the water. I didn’t mind, enjoying the glimpse into domestic life with Spencer Reid.

Although I was perfectly capable of doing it myself, I let him take off my remaining clothes before helping him remove his.

Steam filled the room that was remarkably calm. The usual suffocating sexual tension felt worlds away as Spencer helped me into the shower. My muscles immediately responded to the hot water, and I let out a happy sigh as I heard him enter behind me.

His hands were back on me, gently caressing every curve of my body under the water. Still, his touch was not sexual in the traditional sense. He pulled me closer, letting the water fall over both of us until there was nothing dry left.

Normally it would uncomfortable, for one of us to have to remain outside of the water, but Spencer didn’t seem to mind. It was like all of the focus he had in that supercharged brain could only be placed on me. Keeping me happy, safe, and warm.

And I was.

I couldn’t tell if he knew that. It felt like he didn’t.

With my back still to him, I heard him rustling with the travel-sized bottles I’d started to leave behind. I wondered to myself if I should just start leaving regular items now.

I was distracted from the thought by his fingers diligently working through my hair and on my scalp, massaging the product into a lather. For a touch I claimed to be nonsexual, I felt it all over my body.

Tilting my head further back, I nearly fell over onto him in the pleasurable haze he’d created. He just gave a small chuckle, nudging me back up so he could continue.

Before he finished, I gave a soft sigh and a mewl. When he turned me around to begin helping me wash it out, I saw the goofy smile on his face.

“I love you.” He said it like it needed to be said at all. As if he weren’t tenderly caring for me in that very moment.

A selfish part of me hated when he said it, because I still wasn’t sure when I could say it back. It seemed like there was never a right time. Before, he had been worried it would be about the suspected pregnancy, and then it had been the drugs. Now, I feared it would be swallowed into that post-coital dysphoria he always brought up.

Thankfully, he didn’t make me say anything.

“Close your eyes.” He said, tilting my chin back and maneuvering his fingers through my hair to rid it of the shampoo.

It had been a long time since I’d felt cared for like this. I didn’t know how to react. My heart was overwhelmed.

He repeated the process with the conditioner, and I remained silent once again. But Spencer didn’t seem like he missed our usual snarky repartee. I began to worry something deeper was wrong... again.

That thought was an unfortunate one to have, because it caused me to turn around. I took his hands in mine, stretching out his arms to see the remnants of bruises still peppered over his skin.

“Don’t think like that, little girl.”

His voice was harsh and crackling, filled to the brim with self loathing that I always hated to hear.

“They’re fading away, and I’m still here. There...” he paused, swallowing and trying to keep himself steady before continuing, “there won’t be any more.”

But there was still a struggle in his words. I wasn’t looking to chastise him, and it hurt to see he expected it. Which is why I began to slowly shift so that he was under the water, a weird mix of a smile masquerading as a pout.

Once he was under the water, he made a face at the way it hit him differently at his height. I ignored it, grabbing his soap from the side of the tub and pouring it into my hand.

He didn’t say anything when I started to run my hands over his chest and back. He just watched me with a quiet reverence, his eyes occasionally closing with a sigh of relief.

They stayed shut when I moved to his arms, wishing I could just wash away what was left of his scars.

“I’m not worried.” I finally spoke as I took his hands in mine, smiling at the way my fingers could be so much smaller than his and still fit so perfectly in his hands. Using the positive inertia, I wrapped my arms around him and let the water wash over both of us like a third member of our embrace.

His hands stroked my back so delicately that I barely noticed them at all. As much as I enjoyed the dramatic change of pace from our earlier activities, there was something undoubtedly off with the way he was holding me now.

I let it go for a minute longer, just so we could make out way back out of the tub. With a speed that I would never expect from someone who had exerted as much energy as he had, Spencer had wrapped me in a towel and left to fetch me his clothes for me to wear in an instant. We both knew that I’d brought my own change of clothes, but neither of us spoke about it. It was much preferable, we had each privately decided, for me to be swamped in the fabrics he loved.

Not a moment too soon we were laying in his bed, curled into a messy pile of limbs trying to convince the other that our bodies really couldn’t exist without the other. I’m not sure if it was the way his fingers still dusted over me like they would shatter me or that look in his eyes, but I couldn’t ignore the feeling any longer.

“Babe,” I cautiously began, taking his hand and pressing it fully against the cheek he so clearly wanted to touch, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” It was curt and unconvincing, so I continued.

“Are you sure? You know how I feel about you lying to me.”

He sighed, rolling onto his back and away from me. His arm covered his face, but I could still see the way his eyebrows furrowed beneath it.

“No. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

At this point I was just so grateful that we’d finally made it far enough into our relationship that he didn’t feel the need to lie to me more than once. Still, I was terrified by what he could possibly say next. What was he going to tell me next? That he had a secret child? A wife?

“I just… Sometimes after we have sex I feel…”

He peeked at me, probably noting the confusion and anxiety clear in my features.

“… Like I’m the worst person in the world.”

Those previous emotions were quickly replaced with an exasperated and false gasp as I pulled myself over to him.

“Well, that does wonders for my self-esteem, Dr. Reid.” I laughed, looking up at him from where my head rested against his chest. His heart even sounded troubled somehow.

“No, it’s not that. God, no. You’re amazing.”

“I know, right?” I continued to joke, hoping that it would make his vulnerability at least a little bit easier. It seemed to work, and his arms found their home around me once again.

“I spend almost all of my time, every day, trying to find and stop murderers and rapists. The worst possible people on this earth; people that everyone agrees are evil incarnate, and then I come home and…”

He trailed off, but it was obvious what he was going to say. It was hard to hear him compare himself to the men he hunted. He didn’t talk often about work, but he’d said enough for my chest to hurt at the implication.

“Spencer…”

“How can I feel like I’m a good person when I get off on hurting something as beautiful and innocent as you?”

“I am not innocent,” I scoffed, pushing at his chest to prop myself up again. Positioning myself to hang above him, I smiled when his nose twitched from the way my hair tickled his face. His eyes flickered back and forth, seeing something I’m not sure I would ever understand.

“Yes, you are. It’s one of the many things I love most about you.”

His hand on the back of my head convinced me to close the gap between us. I planted a soft yet meaningful kiss on his lips, but it wasn’t enough to stop the racing thoughts.

“Spencer, you aren’t anything like those guys.” I assured him, running my hand through his damp hair that had just started to curl.

“I’m not always so sure.” His eyes had finally met mine, unsure and petrified all at once.

“Well, I am.” I didn’t know how to explain it to him. He was always the one who had the words to explain things. All I had were quotes from people much smarter than myself.

“Look me in my eyes right now and tell me that you would still enjoy it if you honestly knew I wasn’t having fun.”

“I don’t know.”

I could recognize that he didn’t mean it. Those endorphins he was always talking about were screwing with his head. I’d seen his reactions when I was in pain. He did not like it.

“Spencer. You’re just going to have to believe me when I say that you are a good man. One of the best I’ve ever known.”

His tongue swept over his lips before he bit down on it, trying to swallow his doubts before he could give them any more life.

“I love playing with you, and I trust you with my life because I know you would never do anything to risk it. Okay?”

Spencer looked like he was finally starting to get it. Either that or he had just realized I wasn’t going to change my mind. Regardless, he gave a small pout as he said, “Okay.”

Shimmying further onto him, I swung my leg over his hip so I was practically sprawled over him like a blanket.

“Now tell me you love me,” I teased, settling onto him while he groaned at the sudden weight.

“I do love you.” He laughed when he said it, which was my goal in the first place.

With feigned bashfulness I cooed, “Awww, thanks.”

“You’re such a dork.”

The insult was such a ridiculous notion to me that I was convinced I had heard him wrong.

“Wow, I’m going to pretend like the man with 3 PhDs didn’t just call me a dork.”

I nestled my face to his neck, feeling the way his heartbeat was fluctuating as we began to settle into the calmness of a simple night together.

“It takes a dork to love a dork,” he opined in the dorkiest manner possible. But considering how those words in his voice brought so much joy to my heart, I chose to accept his hypothesis.

“Pffft. Go to sleep, old man.” I muttered, reaching up to loosely cover his mouth with my hand. The feel of his mouth curling into a smile before kissing my palm was all I needed to feel safe enough to sleep.

“Thank you, (y/n).”

“Anytime.”

—————————————————

The next morning felt a lot like the way the previous night had ended. I swear, it was almost like Spencer and I hadn’t moved an inch throughout the night. Maybe we really had been that tired.

Either way, I wasn’t tired anymore. I knew that if I stayed splayed out on top of Spencer while I was this restless, I would wake him up anyway. So I slowly inched off, hoping not to disturb him too much.

To my surprise, he barely stirred. Don’t get me wrong; his arms followed my body and required all of my strength to peel them off of me.

“Babe, I have to get up. I’ll be right back.” I mumbled, practically crawling out of his grip while he grumbled nonsense into the pillow.

He was so adorable that I almost felt bad about leaving him there alone. Almost.

See, Spencer had done so much for me in our relationship up to this point that it was starting to feel lopsided. I didn’t like that. There is something about owing people anything that doesn’t sit right with me.

That’s why, after sleepily brushing my teeth and trying to control the disaster of a bird’s nest on my head that resulted from sleeping on wet hair, I set out to do some good old fashioned chores.

It wasn’t hard to figure out where Spencer kept things - one of the perks of having a boyfriend with such a hatred of germs, I guess.

I don’t honestly know how long I spent topping off the cleaning around his apartment, but it couldn’t have been that long. The place was basically already spotless. Once I was satisfied, I picked up the thing I had been avoiding: my homework.

And that’s when Spencer conveniently awoke, ready to distract me from finishing the last few problems once more.

“I never thought I’d see you willingly doing your homework.”

I turned around from the couch, smiling at the state of my sleepy boyfriend still wrapped in a blanket. Adorable.

“Well, someone distracted me last night.”

“Oh, did they?” He joked as he came over to plant a kiss on the top of my head before making his normal beeline to make his morning cup of coffee.  But after I heard the familiar clinking of mugs, I paused my work with a smile.

“... Did you... did you do the dishes?”

“Yeah, why?” I called back, hearing the loud grinding of the gears moving in his mind.

“And made coffee.”

“Yes.”

I remained looking forward because somehow it made his confusion all the better. His hand was sliding against the counter top before moving to the stovetop, where I heard him moving the grates.

“... Did you clean my entire kitchen?”

“You’re very perceptive, Dr. Reid.”

He laughed, walking back over to me from the other direction with a pleasant, if not goofy, grin. He was going to say something else, but stopped when he noticed the basket filled with clean laundry on the floor next to the couch.

“You did my laundry? How long have you been awake? How did I sleep through this?”

Although he bent over to pick up the basket and turned to carry it off to the bedroom, he kept his eyes on me, waiting for my answer.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, “A couple hours? You must have been tired.”

His eyes narrowed in an attempt to see through me, to learn the secrets of how I had managed to out-Spencer Reid him with my particularity.

“What? It’s not a very big place, Spencer. And most of your clothes are dry cleaned.”

As he walked away, I heard him groan. Like he should be embarrassed by the state of his apartment. Honestly, his starting point was cleaner than even the best deep clean would do for my apartment. If anyone was embarrassed, it was me.

“You should’ve woken me up,” he called from the hallway.

“You looked too cute!” I shouted back when he disappeared around the corner. “I didn’t want to ruin it. You don’t get enough sleep.”

Upon his return, he stood above me with a sarcastic scrutiny. I put my pencil down, looking up at him from my cross legged position on his couch.

“Is this what domestic life with you is like?” He asked, unable to hide his admiration any longer.

“Only when you’re nice to me.” I teased, reaching forward to grab the blanket still hanging over his shoulders to pull him closer to me.

“I’m always nice to you.”

“Then I guess that’s your answer.”

Losing his balance just a bit, he awkwardly stumbled onto the couch, plopping down next to me with the total lack of grace I’d come to expect from him.

“Well, thank you. You didn’t have to do any of that.”

“I wanted to.” I admitted, brushing his unruly curls out of his face. “Because now you have nothing to distract you from paying attention to me.”

He groaned, craning his neck away from me at the words, “Should’ve known there was a catch.”

“Oh yes,” I continued, climbing onto his lap with no resistance on his part. “I was thinking you and I could go to the park and…”

“Don’t say it,” he warned, raising a finger to my lips.

I didn’t care, and shouted past the digit, anyway.

“Please, Spencer! Take me for a picnic! Just once!”

“You know how I feel about picnics.”

Now it was my turn to whine, grabbing his hand between mine and lowering it, leaning forward in the hopes it would distract him.

“You can eat before and just feed me fruit. Spoil me rotten.”

My distractions didn’t work, and he didn’t even bother trying to kiss me back. He just spoke hurriedly into my lips.

“It’s not even just the food I’m worried about! Did you see the numbers of Lyme infections in the county?”

My eyebrows popped up, and I stuck my tongue out for a second in my excitement.

“Ooh, Doctor, you can check me for ticks,” I cooed.

Closing the space between us, I gave him a light, chaste kiss. Despite returning it, he also gave back a pout.

“Please don’t make me do this.”

Conveniently, he had forgotten that I was much more experienced at pouting. What I did next wasn’t really a pout, though, it was more like puppy dog eyes and a childish grin meant to evoke the strongest sense of guilt.

He dropped his head back, closing his eyes like he didn’t have an eidetic memory that would burn my cute nonsense into his brain.

“Why does the begging only work one way?”

“Is that a yes?” The excitement was clear in my voice, which must have sealed the deal.

Because he just sighed, running his hands up and down my waist.

“Fine. But I’m going to check you for ticks after and I promise you will not like it.”

This time when his hands made their way down my body, I rocked my hips against his. I could feel his erection already straining under his pants.

And he was acting like he was actually disappointed.

“You always say that and I always like it.” I pointed out, reorienting my heat over his erection and continuing my motions back and forth against him.

“Oh, really?” He tried to act calm, but I felt the way his fingers got tighter, his hips bucking up every couple of seconds.

“Yes,” I breathily whispered into his mouth before melting into a sloppy, frenzied kiss.

It didn’t last long, with his hand threading through my hair and pulling lightly to expose my neck to him.

“Tell me what you like, little girl.”

When he uttered the words, I noticed he was placing small kisses against the same pattern of his hand that had been wrapped around my neck. The thought alone consumed me, and I dug my fingers into his shoulders, gasping at the sensation of his tongue swirling patterns over my pulse.

“You,” was the only syllable I could express.

The light chuckle he gave sent shivers down my spine, his bottom lip dragging over my skin while he savored the newly forming memories.

“I never got to spoil you last night,” he reminded, bringing a hand down to stroke my thigh.

“Oh, I wasn’t disappointed at all.” I was going to continue, telling him that he didn’t have to get me off every time. Then again, I knew that he wasn’t going to accept that answer, anyway. Regardless, he spoke quickly and with confidence when he said, “I’m still going to make up for it. Take off your pants.”

I wasted no time springing up from my position with a cheeky little taunt. “This sounds familiar.”

“But this time you were a good girl.”

The distinction was not lost on me, and I had to admit hearing him call me a good girl in this context turned me on more than I had thought it would. Apparently, I was wrong for thinking I was entirely a brat, because right now I just wanted to hear him praise me.

“Maybe I should do that more often,” I happily hummed as I began to straddle him once more, pausing for a moment for him to lay languid, open-mouthed kisses against my breasts.

He paused just for a second to growl, “Don’t you dare.”

I didn’t bother saying ‘I told you so’ because he was already pulling my hips down so that I could sink onto his length. Biting my lip to try and stifle the full moan, my fingers returned to their place embedded in his skin.

“Fuck,” he spoke under his breath and through a clenched jaw, “I don’t think you understand what you do to me.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong. I could only guess the effect I had on him by just how stupid the bona fide genius got when I was around.

When I could look into his eyes again I pushed his hair back with both hands, trying to express my feelings with each roll of my hips.

“Tell me about it,” I purred, my mouth hanging open as he started to thrust up in slow, synchronized movements.

Through the heavy panting and strained motions of his muscles, he spoke with a clarity that demonstrated how long he’d thought about his words.

“I just… I’ve never been able to picture a future until the day I met you.”

My heart stopped for a moment before continuing its strong, hard rhythm against the inside of my rib cage. I wanted to see the look on his face, but he had buried his head into my neck and hair. Each inhale seemed so purposeful, reminding me that I smelled of his soap.

I smiled at the way his hands felt just like they had last night, holding themselves back from claiming me with the rough, greedy nature they so often did.

“I can recall any minor detail from any point in the past. I relive them so often, but the future? That was always this terrifying, suffocating concoction of unknowns until that night.”

It almost felt like I was there again, feeling the bass shaking the chair I was sitting in when I kissed him for the very first time. I thought about the compassion in his eyes when he learned the truth about our situation.

Although it had only a few months since then, it felt like a lifetime ago. I couldn’t and didn’t want to remember a life before Spencer Reid.

Once again reading my mind, he stopped laying kisses against my shoulders to hold my face in his hand, stroking my cheek while our bodies continued in their need.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

When he thrust up this time, his eyes shut and his mouth hung open as he pulled our foreheads together. I continued to watch him, watching how his eyebrows furrowed and he tried to focus on remembering this moment more than usual.

“A future with you, huh?” I whispered, my features softening as he struggled to look at me through his own infatuated haze. “It sounds nice.”

He smiled, and I continued before he could take my lips with his own.

“A white picket fence. Two little bratty genius babies.” My attempts to excite him were absolutely working, because with each idea I provided, the urgency with which he pulled me down increased.

“Just a normal, domestic life,” I laughed, my legs beginning to shake as he held me against him with each movement, “with Dr. and Mrs. Reid.”

“Fuck,” he muttered without providing any other answer before pressing his thumb against my puckered lips.

I took it into my mouth quickly, lavishing it with my tongue as much as I could before he removed it. His hand then shot down to where our bodies were joined, beginning to rub my clit in rough, circular strokes.

The trembling that was once contained to my legs spread throughout my entire body, the moans spilling out of my mouth without a care in the world for who might hear. As long as Spencer was enjoying my responses, that’s all that mattered to me.

I wanted him to see the things I could never say. The way I felt whenever I was with him.

“Don’t tempt me, little girl. Keeping talking like that and I’ll steal you away from whatever plans you had.” He spoke in my ear with that low register, his voice barely above a whisper.

I could hardly breathe, and I spent all my energy trying to follow his words.

“Take me.” I urged, feeling the tension in my muscles approaching their breaking point. “Take me, Spencer. Please.”

It was with those words that I felt my body give into him, my muscles gripping him and begging him to join me in my release. But he waited, giving a few more rough, deep thrusts into me.

“Just like a true daddy’s girl.” He chuckled, watching as I came undone, my body eventually going half limp in his arms. “You’re already spoiled rotten.”

My skin was sticky with sweat, and the sounds of our bodies colliding together in the dim morning light continued to overwhelm my senses. He seemed to enjoy the way he could clean me just to dirty me all over again, and I almost made a comment about it, but I couldn’t find the words in time.

Instead, I just whined, “I want more. I want it.”

He didn’t respond with words because he didn’t have to, his broken, shaky thrusts spoke for him. Using both hands to slam my body down against him one last time, he gave a guttural moan against the side of my face.

“It’s all for you, little girl.” He said between breaths. I cried out at the sensation of him filling me, my muscles clutching onto him like a vice, begging him to stay with me until he was completely spent.

He took the offer, pulling my body against his and leaning us back while we caught our breath. Eventually, I was the one to speak, my words suddenly sleepy and disoriented from the emotional toll of our encounter.

“Thank you.”

His chest still rose and fell with his deep breaths, trying to stabilize his heart before he spoke.

“For what?”

“Loving me.”

That look on his face was back; the one that begged me not to say the words back to him. I hated it. I wanted to tell him the truth, and now felt like such a perfect moment. But at the same time, I understood why he didn’t want it associated with sex.

‘Right now you just think that because your body is coursing with endorphins and adrenaline,’ I could hear him saying, ‘Once that goes away, you might find you feel differently about me.’

But it wasn’t true. I would feel this way about him forever. I already knew that with every fiber of my being. Then again, there was no point in arguing with him.

I would just continue to show him however I could, through loads of laundry and sleepy kisses. My ‘I love you’s would be subtly explaining who got what side of the bed and whether our children would look more like me or him.

At least for now. Until he decided he was ready, or until I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

I really hoped it would be the former.

—————————————————

| Part 13 |

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #Criminal Minds #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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robertppattinson · 4 years

Text

always the gentleman: steve rogers

summary: steve rogers x reader. smut!!!!! steve keeps walking in on reader having some alone time, and goddamn it if he doesn’t wish it was him instead of an ann summers toy she’s holding.

word count: 1,900

warnings/tropes: smut, clueless!steve, tease!steve. bucky has a cameo teehee. enjoy!

The first time Steve sees you like this, it’s a complete and utter accident.

This meaning shaky breath, hair clung to face, a wild bucking of the hips. This meaning ass up in the air, right hand between your legs, the sweetest friction. This meaning soft mewls, almost sinful, though he was adamant you could never be anything but angelic, celestial, even.

It’s his own fault, really. Steve knows he can be oblivious, careless. The thought of walking in on you in such a compromising and vulnerable position, bent over in your bed, in your room, had never even so much as made a peep at him before he entered without a knock. Your bed, your room; how many times did he have to remind himself? He should know better, for heaven’s sake. Getting involved with someone at work was sacrilegious, no matter what sector ‘work’ regarded. Office romances always ended badly - why should the Avengers Compound get off any easier? ‘Involved’ is a loose word for it, now that he reconsiders. He can’t be ‘involved’ with someone he has only touched in his dreams, really, truly touched like he craved with the girl who left stains on every inch of his brain since the day he met her.

It’s a miracle he has enough sense to remain still, like the carved statue he is, and painfully quiet. Steve aches everywhere; his hands, yearning to reach out and touch you; his legs, eager to step forward; his dick, aching with relentless throbs that snake all the way up his spine, prick his ears and bloom a tender blush on his cheeks.

It’s a miracle you aren’t privy to his heart, thunderous in his chest, surely visibly protruding from his t-shirt. Golden rings still on your long, slender fingers, glistening in the sunlight poking through your open window. Wait - open window? Don’t you know somebody could see you? Not any neighbours this high up in the building, granted, but somebody? Drones aren’t hard to come by these days, he scolds you internally. And he realises in the boyish, clueless way he’s still prone to that he is that somebody watching you. He wants to leave, knows he should, but he cannot, for the life of him, tear himself away from this. From you. So beautiful, he can hardly stand it. How delicious you must taste in his hungry, greedy mouth; how gorgeous you must look above him, below him, whichever way you wanted; how sickeningly sweet you must feel clenching around him. He’s sweating, poor boy, almost as much as you are - small, wet tell-tales of exertion on the armpits of your crop top as you work yourself closer to coming. Your legs tremble, tanned against the pale eggshell sheets strewn across the bed, bottom lip harshly bitten into. A hiss of pleasure, a high-pitched intake of breath, one last curl of your fingers and you are undone.

It’s a miracle he finally regains control of his limbs, silently leaping out of view back out into the corridor before you turn your head towards the door, frowning, swearing you had closed it. Only a few metres apart, a goddamn-cockblocking-son-of-a-bitch wall separating you, both figures shudder and sigh blissfully. Fucked out on your bed, sensitive, you carefully draw your fingers into your folds one last time, curiously observing the milky liquid of your come, and bring it up to your mouth, moaning at the pleasant taste.

Steve is about to leave, actually leave this time, he means it, when he hears it.

“Mmm,” a sensuous moan, almost guttural. He swears his dick has never been this hard, never wanted to pop out of his jeans so much. That is, however, until: “Steve…”

Shit. Shit. Shit. You couldn’t have seen him, surely? A quick whip of his head to the door reveals he has escaped a lifetime of embarrassment; no sign of you. Still fucked out on your bed. But if you hadn’t heard him, then - oh. And there it was, the biggest, thickest erection of his life, and all he could do was tuck his dick into the waistband of his boxers (Calvin Kleins, after he had heard you swooning over the Mark Wahlberg and Kate Moss campaign from the 90s), and traipse sullenly to his own room. Steve felt like a teenage boy caught looking through his father’s Playboy, indignant, yet secretly proud of having found the Playboy in the first place.

With a sigh, embarrassed, shameful and utterly, utterly horny, Steve turns back towards your door and closes it for good, polite measure once he hears the shower turn on. Always the gentleman.

The second time Steve sees you like this, he tells himself it’s another accident, that he just happened to be on the wrong (right) floor at the wrong (right) time.

Looking for Bucky is an innocent act. Why his friend, more like life companion, really, would even be on this floor is beyond him, but Steve pulls out his phone and taps on Bucky’s contact. He’s wandering the floor, from one corridor to the next, when he hears a light buzzing to the east of the building. Goddamn Bucky left his goddamn phone lying around again. Goddamn it.

He draws closer, and though his mind is slow to catch up, rusty with these lustful theatrics, the most primal part of him senses the situation immediately. The buzzing is louder now, more akin to a gentle rumble, and his dick twitches. Here he is again, outside that door. Only now, he doesn’t have to turn the handle to open it; it’s already ajar.

Is he a narcissist for thinking you left it open for him, just him, so he could see and hear you again?

One peek. Only one, quick peek and that’s it, Rogers, I mean it. And he does, truly - but he had also meant not to be presented with the sight before him again, meant not to drift his hand towards his own centre, for lack of a better word. It really felt like his centre - his dick, he means; everything revolves around that goddamn thing lately. He’s hard, palming himself and trying not to have his mother’s shrill voice in his head, yelling at him to stop being a pervert and pull himself together.

But he can’t, and he’s petulant towards this fact. He can’t, not when you have never looked quite so riled up. Eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth gaped open in a silent scream, thighs trembling. Small hands forcefully wrapped around a pink vibrator - a rabbit, he thinks they call this particular type - that gets slightly twirled around until you find the right spot. You come much quicker than when using just your fingers, practically writhing around as if you’re being electrocuted. This vulnerability is insanely captivating, Steve notes, this openness. Whenever he jerks off, in the shower, in his bed with a condom (a posh wank, you had called the concept once), he does so quietly, stealthily, still coy and afraid of someone hearing him. Suddenly, there’s nothing he wants more than to have the whole Compound hearing his name slipping from your cherry lips, echoing through the glass and metal. Just the mere thought drives him crazy, hand down his jeans to touch himself properly when you come for a second time, harsher, more sustained and by God, there it is again:

“Oh, Steve… fuuuuck.”

The deliciousness of this barely has time to register before he feels the familiar release of his own orgasm. Right in his jeans. Goddamn it all to hell.

He’s lucky they’re a deep blue, almost black, so he can walk to his room without arousing much suspicion. It’s wildly uncomfortable, and more than a little gross, but he’ll take what he can get.

“Hey - you rang?”

Fuck off Bucky, I swear to God.

“Uh, sorry. Butt-dial,” Steve offers, shuffling awkwardly, trying to get past his miscreant of a friend as quickly as possible.

Bucky raises an eyebrow in question, but decides to let it go. Many years together have taught him to keep to his own business unless Steve asked for help himself, or was otherwise unconscious and covered in blood.

“Alright… I’ll be upstairs if you need me. Wanna show Y/N this new album I’ve been listeni-”

Steve storms off. Always the gentleman.

The third time Steve sees you like this, eyes cloudy with lust, squeezing your thighs together for some, any, kind of relief, it is by no means an accident.

Grey joggers cover his bottom half, his chest bare and t-shirt discarded in a crumpled up mess next to him. He doesn’t know what has come over him, this sudden bravery to practically gallivant his penis in your face as you try to concentrate on the TV, gripping the nunchucks much harder than usual. Wants to test you, he supposes, confirm his suspicions. He’s hopeful, and he has every right to be.

You’re not the best driver as it is, never mind that this is Mario Kart, but the willpower it takes to keep your eyes on the screen is inhuman. Every other second, though, your vision flits towards his groin, mentally tracing the outline of his dick. He’s big, of course, even when flaccid. Your mouth waters involuntary at the conjured up image of him at his full hardness, lining himself up just before his head enters you.

“Stupid fucking-” you grunt, hitting random buttons in vain as your character is knocked off the track and falls into the water.

Groaning at your new sixth position (you were just second, for crying out loud), you glance at Steve, who is smirking at you already, having just pushed himself into first place and finishing the track.

“Language!” He laughs, a big, boisterous sound that makes you nervous. You loved making him laugh - your favourite pastime. Aside from making him come in his jeans outside your door, of course.

“Funny you should say that,” you begin, tongue wetting your bottom lip anxiously. Come on, Y/N, time for you to be brave now.

“Oh?”

“You weren’t telling me off for swearing yesterday.”

Silly Steve, it takes him a moment to process the comment. You take the opportunity, can see his cogs turning, to stand up in front of him. And you peep at his joggers, too, but who can blame you?

“… Oh.”

You hold out a hand, shaking almost imperceptibly, inviting, tempting him. “You coming, Captain?”

He’s too far gone to even try to resist, and his hand feels so… so homely wrapped around yours. You reach the door of the games room and before you can pull it open to scurry upstairs, Steve releases your hand and pries the door open himself.

“After you, doll.”

You know he does this just so he can look at your bum as you walk up the stairs, so you roll your eyes to the heavens, and he smirks again, his brain working faster now and picturing you rolling your eyes in a different, imminent way.

Steve has been raised right, of course, would never dream of letting a girl, especially his girl, walk through a door without opening it for her first. That’s what he tells himself, at least. Totally not so he can check you out. Always the gentleman.

#my first Steve fic!!#hope u liked it if u read it x #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers reader insert #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans smut

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imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

Hiding in Plain Sight

TITLE: Hiding in Plain Sight CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Five AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE:

Imagine coming from a line of nobility or royalty and being in an arranged marriage with Loki in an attempt to strengthen your kingdom / alliance with Asgard. You’re not entirely on board with the idea but figured that the best you could do was to get to know your fiancé.

You form an agreement with Frigga for you to pose as Loki’s personal servant for a few months so you can get to know who Loki really is – beyond the veil of his responsibility to the Asgardian throne, behind all the masks he wears when facing the public, to really know who Loki is behind closed doors as you slowly fall for each other.

How long will you keep up the ruse with the God of Lies?

RATING: General Audience

Raven could feel her heart pounding in her ears as Thor looked at her. He glanced at Loki for a moment who seemed to be studying him, curious as to why he was reacting as he was. “Looks like your soon-to-be wife isn’t the only Light Elf you need to get used to seeing.” Thor scoffed. “Like I was saying, I will deal with my situation when it comes to pass, you deal with yours now as it does.” “Get stuffed.” Loki snarled moving to the side to allow Raven passed him which she did in case Thor would say anything. “And don’t go sniffing around my maid. I don’t know why you seem so interested as you never thought them overly interesting as a race but you can cease such thoughts now.”

“I never even considered such but now that you mention it, she is quite pretty, don’t you think?”

Loki’s response to his brother was to slam the door with his seidr into his face. He walked through the room and to the bathroom where he had watched Raven go out of the side of his eye after she had entered his rooms. “Branna, I...what in the realms are you doing?”

“Cleaning a wound I obtained when you threw an Aesir war prince onto me.”

“In my defence, I did not know you were there.” Loki winced on seeing the deep cut on her forearm. “I apologise but how is it so deep?” he walked over to one of the cabinets and got out a salve he used on occasion. “It was a smooth floor.” “The floor is gold plated, so yes, that was smooth. The armour plating on the behemoth of an Aesir you threw onto me was not.”

Loki grimaced. “I guess I owe you another apology then?”

“I’ll put it on your tab.”

Loki paused and looked at her startled, surprised to see a playful smirk on her face that caused him to chuckle. “You have a sense of humour?” “Most elves do. You’d know that if you stopped assuming our demeanours based on some unfounded preconceived notion.”

“Your vernacular exceeds that of most women of court.”

“It is expected on Alfheim that you are able to converse with your employer on a multitude of subjects so you must be well learned and you must be able to hold a decent conversation with them. Allspeak is also required in case they have guests from the other realms, it’s common practise really.” Every word she spoke was the truth by Ljósáfar standard.

“That’s a wise decision. Intelligent servants are not overly common here, ones you can converse with are even less so.”

“‘Pay peanuts and you get monkeys’ as the saying goes.” She cleaned the wound and applied the salve. “That looks better. Hopefully, if I ever marry, he won’t think me mutilated by it.”

Loki scoffed slightly. “He would want to have peculiar standards as to what is mutilated. But that statement on the monkeys?” “I spoke to a Vanir before who spent time on Midgard, it is a saying there. It translates to ‘if you pay badly, only the least qualified will apply’. Alfheim pays well and expects a lot for the money paid.”

“If it is so great, why come here? You stated to my mother you are homesick. You clearly are not overly pleased with your position, so why come?”

“My father wished for me to experience life elsewhere so I ended up here. My choice was made for me so I am making the best of it. It just so happened that my being in a certain place at a certain time meant I was chosen to cover for Tatiana. I guess the Allmother felt a maid with Ljósláfar training would suit you best in her stead.” Raven suggested. “Either that or she is trying to teach you humility before you break a young princess’s confidence or heart.”

“Her heart?” Loki thought that an odd thing to say. “She does not know me to have her heart broken by me?” “We can break a person’s heart without it being from love, you know?” Raven scoffed but Loki looked at her bewildered by such words. “She could come here thinking that she has the potential not even for the love of her life but of a life with happiness nonetheless. A husband that could converse with her at length about politics or even a man with hobbies similar to her own who she could find contentment with. Were she to come and see nothing short of contempt, then that would be acknowledging she could never even have that much. So many arranged marriages turn to caring but what I experienced here today, perhaps your mother wished to straighten out your behaviour in advance, the only issue being I am the one forced to endure it.”

Loki remained stoically in place for a moment thinking of what she said. “Could she have?” “Could she what?”

“My mother?”

“I cannot tell, she never told me anything only that I was to temporarily replace your other maid. No timeframe, no other information.”

“And the Princess, would she really…?” Raven cocked her head. “Earlier, you stated that she would wish to know if I had someone because she…”

“If you think that you alone have the right to other partners, then that is ridiculous.”

“But if she was to have another’s child as my wife…?”

“Well, good thing you’re not scheduled to become king.” Raven retorted before walking out of the bathing room and into the front area of Loki’s rooms and continued her earlier duties that she had abandoned in her anger.

“That is unacceptable.” Loki followed after her.

“So is having a mistress in this era.” Raven challenged.

“You are very angry about a subject that does not concern you personally.” Loki folded his arms and watched her carefully.

“I cannot stomach double standards.”

“You’re very opinionated for a woman of your position. I can’t see how many in a position of employment would see it as acceptable.”

“Do you find it acceptable?” “I find silent women unsettling. Your gender is as varied in personality as us men meaning there is no reason a woman should be forced to be silent when we commend men for speaking freely.” Loki stated. “I find my mother to be more intelligent than any man, I would be a hypocrite and a fool to think her the only possible intelligent woman.”

“My father always told me I should be more coy and quiet. That my attitude and sarcasm would get me in trouble.”

“That was solid advice.”

“But I cannot remain silent when I see injustice. I would rather be whipped and caned in a stock for speaking out than live in luxury for remaining silent.”

“That is a bold statement.” Loki could not help but be impressed by her conviction. “But if you believe so greatly in such, why did you not reveal the truth to my mother?”

“I don’t know, if I am honest. I ask myself the same thing.”

“Well, thank you all the same.”

“It remains to be seen if that is a good idea.” She turned away from him and started to do more chores. In truth, having a moment to look at him and study features, Raven was startled at just how handsome he was. Aesir men tended to be burly and stocky but he was elegant and lithe. She had, of course, seen him on her arrival to the room but being in close proximity to him and studying him, she could not deny that he was incredibly attractive, distractingly so.

She forced herself to concentrate on the work and not the arrogant yet handsome prince. For the rest of the evening, she did everything she needed to do for him. More than once she found herself confused as to what something in front of her was. It was not always easy but she was able to do what needed doing without looking as though she had no idea of what she was doing. Loki was busy dealing with different matters both in and out of his rooms. With him gone for the evening, Raven took her leave and went back to her rooms as quickly as she could muster through the labyrinth of servants stairs that hid in the walls of the great golden palace. On occasion, she saw another servant or maid who nodded in salute as they went about their own business and even once came across two youths of higher families hiding in an alcove kissing which caused her to smile and shake her head, remembering when she was that age and also her first kiss. It was a far more innocent time in her life when she knew nothing of the complexed world of politics that included arranged political marriages. It was in the corridor of rooms that housed royal servants that she realised that there was a maid donning a red belt standing outside her door. “Hello?”

The maid turned to look at her with a polite smile on her face at seeing the Light Elf behind her. “Oh, thank goodness. I didn’t want to come back without you.”

“Come back?” Raven looked at the maid in concern.

“Prince Thor asked that I retrieve you and bring you to his rooms to speak for a few moments,” The maid explained.

“I…” Raven became worried but also knew that to refuse would arouse suspicion. “Can I just change my shoes, these ones are killing me?”

The maid looked down and grimace. “I hated wearing them. Definitely change. Prince Thor said he didn’t care if I came barefoot so long as I was comfortable when he saw me with them one day and bleeding blisters. He won’t mind.”

Raven smiled at hearing the Aesir Crowned Prince had a heart. Odin was known to be a stickler for tradition but it was clear, some traditions were not overly comfortable for those having to adhere to them so for Thor to allow his maid to wear what appeared to be Midgardian sports shoes instead told her that he had some heart. “One moment.”

She rushed into the room and groaned. She knew what was to come, or at least, the general aspect of what was to come so she prepared herself. When she changed her shows to light comfortable ones, she walked out to meet the maid again who walked her to Thor’s rooms. Raven was frightened that they would walk through the hallway and be spotted by Loki who she knew would be less than pleased to see her going to Thor’s room but instead, when the maid, who remained silent and nameless throughout opened the door at the top of the stairwell, it led directly to Thor’s living area. Slightly startled, Raven looked around curiously.

“Your Highness.” The maid bowed as she spoke causing Raven to focus of the burly blonde figure in front of her across the room. “Loki’s maid, as you requested.”

“Thank you, Hannah.” Thor gave a polite smile to his maid. “You can have the rest of the evening to yourself.”

The maid frowned. “But your nightcap?”

“I am forgoing it for this evening, I don’t plan to be here.”

“Of course, your highness. Have a pleasant evening and thank you.” She bowed again before nodding slightly to Raven and walking to the hidden door to the servants quarters again.

For a moment after the maid left, Thor and Raven stood looking at one another analytically as though expecting the other to begin speaking first.

“What is afoot here?” Thor asked. “The last time I saw the Light Elf princess was four hundred years ago on Vanaheim, she was not yet grown into many of her features but they were distinctive, you have them all, but in proportion. Her name is Raven, you are apparently Branna, the Dark Elf version of the name. I know many people think I am somewhat dim but I am anything but.” Thor stood as tall as he could. “What is afoot? Why are you, a princess who I know for a fact is not allowed to so much as sew because you had that argument with your mother in front of your brother and myself going around scrubbing my brother’s rooms when you are to marry him in a short time?”

#Loki #others #submission #submitted fic #wolfpawn #chapter 5 #hiding in plain sight

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ditch-witches · 4 years

Text

New Years ‘71 (George MacKay Smut)

@iongaa‘s incredible work is unmatched.

requested: yes/no (this is loosely based on this, I'm so sorry it has barely anything to do with it)

pairing: '70s!George MacKay x reader

warnings: filth, absolute filth, also incredible inaccuracy

word count: 4,534

a/n: remember when I said my Queen fandom days haunt me?

You brushed a few of your stray hairs off your forehead as you looked at your bassist tangled up with some random blonde on his dressing room couch. A smog of cigarette smoke hung thickly in the air, clouding some of the mirror lights. His shrouds of colorful patterns and beads were thrown about in a mess, hanging like rags from a few of the lamps and completely burying one of the massive armchairs. You shook your head at the state of the room, panic flashing into your chest at the realization that he could cost you the gig. Your heels clicked against the hardwood floor until they were muted by the ornately decorated area rug as you crossed the room and tugged at his shoulder. He only moved to lay flat on his back, hiding his eyes in the crook of his slender elbow. You sighed, moving to the girl and shuffling her out of the room. Despite being slightly bewildered with makeup smudged beyond recognition, she was easier to stir. You shook the man before you again. Receiving no reaction you rolled your eyes, pinching his nose shut and covering his mouth.

He attempted to inhale but flung his arms into the air, slapping you out of the way. His dark curly hair bounced around his shoulders as he looked up at you, eyes wild and furious. "You psychopath! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He snapped after realizing it was you. He pushed himself to sit up, tugging one of the decorative blankets around his waist as he stood, his thin body slinking past you as he moved to get to the vanity across the room.

You crossed your arms over your chest and grinned at him through the reflection of the mirrors. Under the yellow glow of the small lights, he almost looked younger---innocent even---like he hadn't made a deal with the drummer that he would triple his body count by the end of the semester. He yawned and stretched his arms as you began to speak. "Happy New Years to you too," you grumbled, leaning against the counter to get a better look at the way he was applying his eyeliner.

"Happy '71. I hope they start drafting women," he jested, smirking at his own joke.

"Then I'll make sure to grass on you when I get there, dodger," you mocked with a raise of your eyebrows. His piercing eyes shot daggers into you, making you giggle and bump his chair as he smudged his lines before you faced the mirror once again. "We're up in ten so get a move on," you prompted, straightening your long, velvet skirt and heading out the door.

"Go suck Nixon's dick," he called after you as the door clicked shut, making you chuckle as you brushed your hand along the wood paneling on the walls in the back of the bar. You found the rest of your band huddled around an empty drum box playing cards and smoking cigarettes. Bar gigs somehow made you more nervous than when you played for masses at festivals, it was something about how intimate the shows seemed to be, or maybe it was the lighting. Either way, the crowd seemed to be at your ankles and ready to nitpick the lot of you. As it grew closer to the beginning of your set, your bassist finally joined you, plucking his instrument from the pile and running his long fingers against the strings a few times. Your guitarist stretched his legs dramatically, his floral shirt hanging open to show off the ridiculous belt buckle crowding the top of his jeans. Your drummer spun one of his sticks in his hand, tapping out a beat with his foot as if he was practicing keeping time.

The static of the microphone pulled your attention from the men and the room behind the curtain grew quieter, your heart beginning to pick up in anticipation as the owner announced your group. You twisted the rings on your fingers as you collected your nerves and plastered on a smile before taking the stage. Looking over the cheering room---a good portion were women swamping from their husbands or sorority girls hitchhiking from one of the local colleges to see your bandmates---you could practically smell the sickening-sweet stench of over-applied cheap perfume mixing with cut-rate beer. You wet your lips as you took hold of the microphone. "Happy New Year, everyone. I hope you're all getting lucky tonight," you joked, receiving several hollers from the crowd before the bass line of the first song began to pick up. Your eyes darted up from your feet---where you were previously attempting to look like you were counting but in reality, you had yet to warm up to the crowd---only to zero in on a man towards the back of the room, bobbing his head slightly to the riffs being added.

You grinned to yourself mildly as you began to sing along, your sights focused on him in an attempt to memorize his features. You were sure at that moment he was the most attractive man you had seen in your life. His red hair was muted under the dim lights, but his clear eyes were bright in comparison to his dark jacket. His broad frame fit nicely in his clothes. His gaze traveled your body, seemingly stopping at the slit in your skirt running up your leg and the garter peeking out from the gap in the fabric. You fought against the smug expression threatening to break across your face as you realized just how much he was surveying you. He cut through his studious expression by tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. You swayed to the next song faintly, determined to dedicate tonight to this mystery man.

As your set dragged on, you ended up kicking your ridiculous shoes off and leaning momentarily against your guitarist during a particularly seductive song, your eyes never leaving the man's. He peered at you over the top of his glass, an eyebrow raising in your direction as the crowd circled closer to the stage to grasp at the flared pant legs of the bassist. You began to feel the heat from the lights above you as sweat began to pool against your temple. You already knew your makeup would have been ruined, but that didn't seem to bother your spectator. If anything, as you began to loosen up on stage, it drew out more of his attraction.

Finally wrapping up the show, you stepped off the small stage and accepted the small towel handed to you by one of the roadies particularly attached to your drummer. You made your way through the gushing crowd of people flowing to see the guys towards the back alleyway. The cool night air hit you like a truck as you shoved open the heavy door, sighing in relief. The streetlamps were a beacon of hope to the bypassers attempting to get home at such a late hour, their halos of light giving the landscape a glow that only Giacomo Balla could do justice in recreating. You slumped against one of the brick walls, looking up at the sky threatening to crack with lightning.

The door opened again revealing the man from before, your eyes widening moderately. He chuckled a bit, pulling a cigarette from behind his ear and stepping into the downpour of light coming from the bulb above the door. He placed the cigarette between his next to perfect lips and you had never been more jealous of an object. He became a silhouette as he turned towards the street. You watched him carefully as he dug around in his jacket pockets, you stepped towards him almost numbly, offering your lighter to him. He smirked, bringing his large hands up to cup your hand softly, shielding the flame from the gentle breeze. His touch sent flames licking against the inside of your throat. As the end of his cigarette burned like a fresh ember, he swiveled back into the light, taking a long drag. His features became clearer to you as the shadows sculpted his cheeks and highlighted his eyes. Your brain finally clicked into place, realizing now that he had been to a few of your shows in the past.

"You following me or something?" You jeered, settling your hands on the brick behind you as you leaned on them. Catching a full glimpse of just how tall he was alongside his broad shoulders made your cheeks flush. Despite the layers of his dark sweater and jacket over his collared shirt, you could tell he worked out.

He smiled mildly, the smoke drifting from between his pearly teeth as he sent you a small shrug. "What can I say? I'm a big fan," he answered cooly, his accent deep and alluring as his shoulder came in contact with the wall you were leaning against. He held the cigarette out for you, his fingers capturing your attention as you took the stick from him and inhaled. Your cloud of smoke hazed around the two of you as your eyes fixated on his, picking up on each of the brilliant colors mixing together to create something artists would weep over. You wanted to run your fingers through his soft hair and drag your nails down his chest. "I like watching you."

You handed him back the cigarette, your gaze darting to his lips once again, mouth watering with need. You wanted to taste him more than a man wanting water in a desert. "You're something of a spectacle yourself," you responded, lucky he couldn't see your features reddening with heat flowing through your veins.

He smirked, his jaw clenching faintly in the light making you feel as if you were going deaf as you focused in on his accent. There was something calculated about him that you were ridiculously drawn too. "I'm George," he offered.

"I think I prefer 'stalker'," you gibed, flashing him a coy expression.

His eyes blazed with minute cockiness. "I can be whatever you want, sweetheart," he quipped gruffly, making your body heat travel to your core. He moved to stand in front of you, finishing off the cigarette and grinding down the butt beneath the toe of his boot.

"How obedient," you cantered, wanting so badly to take the half a step towards him. To breathe the same air as the man would be a privilege. You yearned for him to reach out and tug away your flowy white blouse and ruin your life. You wanted to be at his mercy despite your confident personality suggesting otherwise. Submission was never something you had foreseen in your plans, but here you were willing to get on your knees in this filthy alleyway if he said the word.

He bit back a smirk, eyes angling downwards to your legs. "Why do you wear a garter?" He questioned, making your skin inkle for him to rip it off of you with his teeth.

"For fun," you responded coyly. You lifted your leg, the slit in your skirt exposing your skin completely to him now. "Do you like it?" You probed. He chuckled softly, stepping against the angle of your body and resting your thigh against his hip. One of his hands settled against the brick beside your head while the other toyed with the soft strip of fabric. The scent of agarwood and sage invaded your senses as his body came in contact with yours. He smelled like a forest you wanted to get lost in exploring. His soft sweater was heavy against your skin as his fingertips graced along your thigh. "You live around here?"

His eyes perked back up to yours almost suggestively. He was close enough now that you could pinpoint the few stray eyebrow hairs framing his gaze. You could almost taste the color of his lips as he sighed. "Yeah, I'm at the uni down the road," he answered simply, his hand reaching out to brush a lock of your hair off your shoulder.

You scoffed at his statement. "You're at the college down the- you mean Harvard?"

He chuckled deeply, his forehead furrowing at your tone. You moved one of your hands to barely rest against his chest as he stepped towards you again, propping a knee between your thighs, making your breath hitch as your leg lowered. You almost felt like you weren't given permission to fully touch him yet, a rule you were following under his watchful gaze. "What's wrong?"

His hand moved to your hip, threatening to spill down against your exposed skin again. "Nothing. I have a Harvard man between my legs," you clarified unevenly, no longer in control of your actions or words. He had turned your brain to mush just by looking at you.

His smug expression tilted at you before he leaned towards you, hovering over your ear. You willed against your impulse to breathe him in and claw your fingers into his skin. "Should I be somewhere else, darling?"

"Inside of me," you nearly whispered, more begging than jesting. His mouth brushed over your throat rather quickly before his lips crashed against yours finally, hungry and needy as you finally allowed yourself to touch him. You dug your fingers into his hair as he reached down to grip your ass, pulling your hips roughly against his. His tongue slipped into your mouth, the sensation of him closing more distance between the two of you made you want him more. The performance high seemed to return as your confidence flourished. You tugged at his jeans, ready to commit yourself to whatever he wanted.

He pulled away from you, your lips burning without his connection. He swiftly bunched your skirt up at your waist as you quickly unbuttoned his pants. You needed him and you needed him now. He wrapped his hand around the back of your knee, hoisting your leg up against his side once again before driving himself into you. You groaned as he filled you up, feeling every inch of him as he retracted from you only to press himself deeper into you. He let out a deep moan, his lips finding yours once again as he began to grind against you, snapping his hips against yours to draw out your pleasure. You tugged his bottom lip between your teeth and curled your hips at his movements. Each of his sounds were the equivalent of a reward for you, you wanted to earn his approval and get him off almost more than you wanted yourself to. You were thankful for how much he towered over you as you wrapped yourself beneath one of his arms to grip onto his shoulder, pulling yourself up against him. He thrusted into you, angling himself so he hit a deeper spot within you at each of his movements.

He breathlessly broke your kiss only to rest his forehead against yours, looking for a reaction from you before leaning away and tilting his head back in pleasure. Seeing his blissed-out, slack-jawed expression alongside his now rapid movements, made stars flash behind your eyes as the urge to cum built within you. He pressed his lips against your flushed cheek as one of his hands returned to the brick wall behind you, his lips traveling to the crook of your neck as he moved in an upward motion. His newfound momentum sent you clenching around him as you chased your own high, wrapping your leg around his waist. Another moan ripped through your body. "God, I love your voice," he almost growled in your ear, sending you over the edge unintentionally. He continued to ride against you, drawing himself to finish as you drew him back to kiss him again in a tangle of lust and bliss. After his release, he rested his forehead against his shoulder as the two of you fought to catch your breath. You almost didn't want him to pull out, it was like he belonged with you.

He detached from you, the two of you straightening your clothes. Your fingers reached up to touch your sore lips still buzzing from the feeling of his rough touch. You felt colder now as the mix of your and George's fluids ran down your thighs. You wanted more of him. He ran a hand through his hair and smirked down at your flushed stated. You were scared to leave the wall, your knees weak from the stimulation. He took hold of your forearm, pulling you against his chest and kissing you again, this time softer as if he was apologizing for the crudeness of his prior activities. You had the right mind to thank him instead. "Do you wanna come home with me?" He asked between pressing his lips against yours and trailing down your neck.

Excitement flourished in your chest. "Yes," you breathed and he took your hand, pulling you through the heavy steel door and back into the bar. The crowd of people had almost doubled since you had been gone. The smell of booze and sex filled the air as you stayed close to George, ready to be fit against him once again. Your bassist's eyes met yours as you traveled towards the front door and he sent you a questioning look. You waved him on and he winked smugly. George quickly got the two of you a cab, the ride to his apartment seemingly lasting forever. Your hand rested on his leg, with every jump of the taxi at a speed bump, your hand climbing further up his thigh. His arm wrapped around the back of your portion of the seat as the radio blared with a skillful guitar solo from The Guess Who. Your hand dipped to his inner thigh, squeezing slightly and he smirked at your actions, placing a kiss to your temple as his fingers brushed against your neck.

George's apartment was nearly on the first floor with massive windows in his living room overlooking the city. His shelves of records and books brought questions into your mind. Part of you hoped this wasn't just going to be a one night stand so you had the opportunity to ask him about his music taste or if he had differing political views than you did. As you stood in the middle of his living room observing his life through a clouded lens, he came from whatever he was doing, wrapping an arm around your waist to see what you were focused on. "Do you only read books that ruffle the Catholic Church's feathers?" You joked, eyeing a few well-loved classics sandwiched between various books on law and whatnot.

He chuckled, pressing his lips against your shoulder again before sweeping your hair to the side. "Keeps me sane," he joked, his arms further wrapping around you as he kissed behind your ear. You turned in his arms, running your hands up his torso and relishing in the softness of his sweater.

"Show me your room?" You almost begged in a hushed tone. Before you knew it, he was pressing you against his bedroom door, his lips melding against yours as you tugged off his sweater and began fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. Your blouse was quickly discarded with his final upper layer, his sculpted body finally under your touch. His hands traveled the length of your body, stopping at the zipper in the back of your skirt and shimmying you out of the garment, the material pooling at your feet as his kiss grew sloppier. Your need for him grew with each touch of his lips against your body. He led you further into his room, his contact with you never faltering as his practiced fingers skillfully unclasped your bra. You fell into his soft sheets, George standing between your knees, debating his next move before climbing back over you. He held your hands above your head as his teeth ran along your skin, his lips sucking and biting at your neck and collarbones, eliciting moans to fall from your mouth like a stream of curses. He leaned off of you, reaching into the small bucket on his bedside table and slipping a piece of ice into his mouth.

Your eyebrows perked up as his actions before he held the cube between his teeth, running it down your chest excruciatingly paced. The feeling of the cold wetness against your skin chased by the warmth of his breath sent goosebumps spreading across your skin. Your eyes almost rolled as he moved down your body, your breath hitching as he outlined the waistband of your lacy underwear. The ice slipped down against your underwear next, George's eyes locking on ours as he ran the coldness over your clothed core. Your head was reeling at the foreign pleasure, your nerves seemingly even more sensitive to his focus. He swirled the ice against the inside of your thighs and you bit back a moan. You could see the smugness in his gaze as you were nearly unraveling before his very eyes without even really touching you. He traveled back up your body, the ice cube nearly melted before he slipped it into your mouth, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

"Hold that for me, darling," he cooed venomously, almost making your teeth crunch down on the cube. He slid your garter down your leg and over his wrist for the time being. He positioned himself back below your waistband, dragging your underwear down your legs by his perfect teeth, making sure you were watching each of his actions. The ice may have been keeping your tongue busy, but as George dipped between your thighs, his went to work on your sensitive heat. Your fingers ran into his hair as his lips sucked at your bundle of nerves, his tongue grazing ever so faintly against your center. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, pulling you further against his mouth as you ground your hips against his tongue. He hummed slightly, the vibration of his voice echoing through your body, straight to your building climax, the second of the night at his hands. He began to swirl his tongue against you in a different direction, a new sensation adding to the mix of pleasure you were almost being blinded with. The concentration---evident in the furrowing of his brow---made you impossibly want him more. He was fixated at edging you toward your orgasm. His finger traced against where you needed friction the most, your body almost begging for him to slip inside of you as he played at the possibility of it.

Finally, he pushed a finger inside of you, making your back arch off the bed, your teeth clamping down on the reminisce of the ice cube and breaking it into pieces. You groaned as he began to pump it in and out of you, his tongue still delicately dancing around your core. His name slipped from your mouth as he added another finger, picking up his pace and curling them inside of you. He was beckoning your release as you began to feel tension building within you. His other arm moved to lay across your hips, holding you in place so you could no longer move against him, his eyes almost jesting up at you as you gripped onto the sheets beside you. "Stop resisting," he almost commanded, removing his mouth from you and increasing his speed, a prideful look in his eye at seeing how close you were once again. Heeding his demand, you released, your knees nearly clamping around him. You inhaled deeply, bliss washing over you once again as you watched him lick his fingers clean. His teeth grazed against the sensitive skin of your abdomen before he leaned over you again, his lips crashing against yours. You moved his hand to grasp as your breast as you pulled his hips against yours, the feeling of his jeans creating new friction. You were spent but hell if you were going to tell him that.

In one swift movement, he had you on your back, pulling your hair back and tying it with the garter that was positioned around his wrist. You grinned slightly as his lips drew a road map from your shoulder to your spine, his rough hands massaging your shoulders before dragging you hips towards him again. You leaned on your side to watch him sit back on his knees to unbutton his jeans. "Be gentle," you leered, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth to fight your grin again as you watched him spit into his hand and stroke himself in preparation.

He chuckled. "I'll take care of you, love," he murmured softly through a smirk. You quipped an eyebrow at him in anticipation before he lifted your hips to him, turning you on your stomach again. He traced his cock against your entrance and you almost snapped back so he'd finally fill you again. Your mind wondered if your body even had another orgasm in it tonight. If it did, George would be the one to coax it out of you. He leaned his weight on his leg, resting a kiss on your back before pressing into you again, the feeling of him inside of you again came almost as a relief as you sighed in pleasure. You pushed your ass against him to get a deeper angle for him as he drove himself into you more.

You moaned as he began to pace himself, his lips near your ear as one of his hands held onto your side. You had never been in such a submissive position before, but as George picked up speed, you were more focused on the feeling of him rather than the visual of him. Hearing his voice purr in your ear sent off memories of being pinned against the brick wall, making you clench around him. He groaned as you moved beneath him. He gripped onto the side of the mattress you were also clinging to for dear life as each of his dirty thrusts sent sparks to your imagination. You felt him tense inside of you as he began to rapidly push into you, making your head go fuzzy as you bit your lip, only wanting to hear his moans fill the room. You let out a small whimper as you reached another orgasm, this one seemingly more intense from the overstimulation. George finished just after you, pulling your hips up further to ride out both your highs as his pace slowed reluctantly. Bliss coursed through your veins as you realized just how tired you were.

George's breath fanned over your back as he disconnected from you. You settled against one of his pillows, fighting an idiotic grin wanting to spread across your face. He tucked an arm beneath your head, pulling you against his side and lacing your fingers together. "I hope I'm sore tomorrow," you slyly joked, making him snicker beside you.

"If you are, I have ice," he quipped back, breaking the two of you into a fit of giggles. You could get used to this...

#george mackay x reader #george mackay #george mackay imagines #george mackay smut #george mackay oneshot #1917 imagines #1917 imagine #1917 smut #1917

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wolfpawn · 4 years

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Hiding in Plain Sight, Chapter 5

Story Summary - Imagine coming from a line of nobility or royalty and being in an arranged marriage with Loki in an attempt to strengthen your kingdom / alliance with Asgard. You’re not entirely on board with the idea but figured that the best you could do was to get to know your fiancé. You form an agreement with Frigga for you to pose as Loki’s personal servant for a few months so you can get to know who Loki really is – beyond the veil of his responsibility to the Asgardian throne, behind all the masks he wears when facing the public, to really know who Loki is behind closed doors as you slowly fall for each other. How long will you keep up the ruse with the God of Lies?

Chapter Summary - Loki tries to set things straight with Raven but then Thor is thrown into the mix.

Previous Chapter

Tags - @peppermint-j @alexakeyloveloki @cateyes315 @laserpente @bravotheroyalfool @teylacarter91 @heavenly1927

@myblissfulparadise - it won’t let me tag you.

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“I never even considered such but now that you mention it, she is quite pretty, don’t you think?”

“Cleaning a wound I obtained when you threw an Aesir war prince onto me.”

Loki grimaced. “I guess I owe you another apology then?”

“I’ll put it on your tab.”

“Your vernacular exceeds that of most women of court.”

“That’s a wise decision. Intelligent servants are not overly common here, ones you can converse with are even less so.”

“‘Pay peanuts and you get monkeys’ as the saying goes.” She cleaned the wound and applied the salve. “That looks better. Hopefully, if I ever marry, he won’t think me mutilated by it.”

“If it is so great, why come here? You stated to my mother you are homesick. You clearly are not overly pleased with your position, so why come?”

Loki remained stoically in place for a moment thinking of what she said. “Could she have?” “Could she what?”

“My mother?”

“I cannot tell, she never told me anything only that I was to temporarily replace your other maid. No timeframe, no other information.”

“And the Princess, would she really…?” Raven cocked her head. “Earlier, you stated that she would wish to know if I had someone because she…”

“If you think that you alone have the right to other partners, then that is ridiculous.”

“But if she was to have another’s child as my wife…?”

“That is unacceptable.” Loki followed after her.

“So is having a mistress in this era.” Raven challenged.

“You are very angry about a subject that does not concern you personally.” Loki folded his arms and watched her carefully.

“I cannot stomach double standards.”

“You’re very opinionated for a woman of your position. I can’t see how many in a position of employment would see it as acceptable.”

“My father always told me I should be more coy and quiet. That my attitude and sarcasm would get me in trouble.”

“That was solid advice.”

“But I cannot remain silent when I see injustice. I would rather be whipped and caned in a stock for speaking out than live in luxury for remaining silent.”

“That is a bold statement.” Loki could not help but be impressed by her conviction. “But if you believe so greatly in such, why did you not reveal the truth to my mother?”

“I don’t know, if I am honest. I ask myself the same thing.”

“Well, thank you all the same.”

The maid turned to look at her with a polite smile on her face at seeing the Light Elf behind her. “Oh, thank goodness. I didn’t want to come back without you.”

“Come back?” Raven looked at the maid in concern.

“Prince Thor asked that I retrieve you and bring you to his rooms to speak for a few moments,” The maid explained.

“I…” Raven became worried but also knew that to refuse would arouse suspicion. “Can I just change my shoes, these ones are killing me?”

“Your Highness.” The maid bowed as she spoke causing Raven to focus of the burly blonde figure in front of her across the room. “Loki’s maid, as you requested.”

“Thank you, Hannah.” Thor gave a polite smile to his maid. “You can have the rest of the evening to yourself.”

The maid frowned. “But your nightcap?”

“I am forgoing it for this evening, I don’t plan to be here.”

“Of course, your highness. Have a pleasant evening and thank you.” She bowed again before nodding slightly to Raven and walking to the hidden door to the servants quarters again.

For a moment after the maid left, Thor and Raven stood looking at one another analytically as though expecting the other to begin speaking first.

#Loki fic #Wolfpawn #hiding in plain sight #Chapter 5

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starshine583 · 5 years

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I’ll Tell You Goodnight

(Here’s part 9! I hope you guys enjoy it!)

Hooked On A Feeling (This was part 8)

Light flashed over head as they passed under street lights. The low hum of the motorcycle provided white noise to accompany the silence of the night. Marinette’s arms hung loosely around Damian’s waist, and he felt her head resting on his back.

She must be tired. He thought to himself. They’d left the amusement park later than he expected they would.

Despite this, Damian still felt somewhat disappointed when her family bakery came into view. It was odd to say, but he didn’t want the night to end. Being with her made him..relaxed. Happy even. How could he feel this way about a girl he just met? It didn’t make sense.

The motorcycle stopped in front of the sidewalk, right next to the glass door of the bakery.

He didn’t move at first, listening to the sound of Marinette’s soft, steady breaths, feeling her chest rise and fall.

She must have noticed the lack of movement after a while, because her head lifted off of his back.

“Are we home?” The words were groggy and hushed, and Damian had a strange urge to hold her in his arms so she could sleep longer.

“Yes, you’re home.” He answered, matching her volume.

Marinette hummed in tired annoyance, lazily sliding off of the motorcycle. “Thank you for the ride. I know it’s out of your way.”

He waved his hand in the air as if to brush off the comment. “No, no. I’m the one that stole you. It’d be unreasonable to make you walk home.”

She chuckled, making the dark night a bit brighter, and took off his helmet to reveal her disarrayed pigtails and crooked smile.

“Stole me, huh?”

“Well, what would you call it?” Damian asked, taking the helmet from her hands and tucking it between his arm and side.

Her bluebell eyes turned to the sky as she pressed a finger to her chin in thought. “I don’t know. Maybe..”

Her gaze flicked back to him.

“Saved?”

Damian’s eyes widened slightly. Saved? She thought he saved her? From what? And why was it suddenly harder to breath?

“Marinette? Is that you?”

His thoughts stopped short when Sabine called out to them from inside the shop.

Marinette sighed. “I should go. I’m already gonna be in trouble for skipping classes.”

“Sorry.”

Hopefully her parents were as reasonable with punishment as his was.

“It’s alright. I had a lot of fun.” She smiled, her tone turning to a teasing one as she added, “At least we didn’t get interrupted by an akuma this time.”

Damian did his best not to show his irritation towards the reminder. There was another reason he spent the day with Marinette, or, at least, there was supposed to be.

“About the akuma attacks..”

He hated ruining the last bits of their night together, but Bruce wouldn’t let him hang out with her anymore if he didn’t get information.

“Do those happen often? I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

Marinette gave a nervous laugh. “Oh, you have no idea. It’s getting kind of ridiculous.”

“They come from a guy called Hawkmoth, right? Do you know how it works?”

Something in her expression hinted to him that she did, but she shook her head.

“Not exactly. I know he uses negative emotions to create the akumas.”

Negative emotions?

“How?”

“Marinette?” Sabine called again, not giving Marinette time to reply.

She gave him an apologetic look as she stepped towards the door. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

Damian offered a smile. “It’s alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Marinette faltered, staring at him with a surprised look.

“Will you?”

It took a minute for the question to register.

Crap.

They hadn’t planned that out yet, had they?

“Uh..” He trails off, lost for words. “I mean, if you want to?”

He swiftly dug around in his pocket for a paper and pen. The ticket from the amusement park would work fine.

“I don’t know what your schedule is for tomorrow,” He continued, scribbling a few numbers down and handing her the ticket, “But here’s my number. Hopefully we can work something out.”

To his relief, she took it and glanced over the numbers.

She then stashed it in her pocket with a grin. “Thanks. I’ll be sure to text you.”

A soft pause.

Marinette pursed her lips together, like she wanted to say something else. Damian definitely wanted to, but he couldn’t place what it was that he wanted to say.

“Well, goodnight.” She finally stated, spinning around to open the front door.

“Goodnight. Make sure to get some sleep.” He advised, fitting the helmet onto his head.

“No promises!” Marinette called over her shoulder just before the glass door closed behind her.

Damian sighed, starting up the motorcycle with a small smile. This was starting to become a problem. He shouldn’t want to follow her inside so badly.

Nevertheless, his grin was all too obvious as he sped down the road towards the hotel.

“You were out late.”

Damian didn’t need to see Dick to know his smile was obnoxiously coy.

“And I’m going to be out even later.” He replied flatly, going straight to his suitcase to pull out his costume. “Don’t you have your own room?”

Mayor Bourgeois was quite generous himself, if you could call it that. He was so wrapped up in impressing them that he gave them three rooms each.

“Bruce wanted me to make sure you came back.” Dick answered, setting his book to the side. “I thought we agreed that Robin was on the bench for now.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “In the daylight, yes, but Father didn’t say anything about going out at night. As long as I’m not seen, it’s not a problem.”

“Damian-”

“I’m just going on patrol. I’ll be back in an hour, easy.”

Dick paused, and Damian hoped that meant he would leave him alone.

“You’re not allowed to stop by Marinette’s house.”

Damian grit his teeth. It took all of his will power not to pull out the dagger hidden in the secret pocket of his suit case.

“I wasn’t going to. At least not specifically. It’s patrol. You go everywhere.”

“Mhm. Sure.”

Damian sent him a sharp glare, before yanking his suit out of the suitcase and storming for the bathroom. He had better things to do than hogtie his brother over the side of the balcony, anyway.

Tag List: @thebookwormfairy @unholykrow @constancetruggle @vixen-uchiha @derpingrainbow @kceedraws @graduatedmelon @starry-bi-sky @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @sweatyruinsstudentbored @go-n-ef @tinybrie @resignedcatservant @never-neverland @captainmac6 @drama-queen-supreme @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @roseinbloom02 @grimmhallow31 @zazzlejazzle @crazylittlemunchkin @iggy-of-fans @origamieater @kiara-rose-blackthorn @spicybelladonna @redscarlet95 @mooshoon @t-nikki10 @auradonfairy @shamefulllove @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @johnlockfeelz @imfreakingmagical @miraculousbelladonna @literallytryingmybestbutok @fanficaddict4ever

#Daminette #Damian Wayne #Marinette

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aizawawhore · 5 years

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Punishment

Pairing: Aizawa x reader

Words: 1,524

Genre: smut

Warnings: master/kitten, referenced masturbation, spanking , vaginal sex , unprotected sex, aftercare.

You were currently in the kitchen, cooking dinner and humming when you heard the front door unlock and open. Spoon in hand you walked over to the kichen entrance where you saw your boyfriend Aizawa taking taking his shoes off and having his usual facial expression on. He had a long day of teaching and you were home alone all day, from the time you woke up he was already gone so this is the first time you'd seen him today. "Hey Shouta, how was your day?" You asked with a smile. Aizawa mumbled a quick 'fine' before taking off for your shared bedroom. He must have had a hard day to be so cold towards you. You shrugged it off. He wasn't the most upbeat and he was a little grumpy of a person but you still loved him dearly. You went back inside the kitchen and stirred what was inside the pot for a little while longer before adding some seasonings and tasting it. You hummed in approval of the taste and went to move to put the food on a plate for you and Aizawa, but before you could--Aizawa grabbed your hips and pulled you into him harshly. "H-hey Shouta w-what--" You were cut off by his harsh tone.

"What the fuck were you doing while I was gone?" You frowned and turned your head to look back at Aizawa who didn't look very happy. "W-what do you mean I didn't do-" He cut you off again, in the same tone. "DId you touch yourself kitty?" You had a look of shock plastered on your face, but your silence gave it away to him, yet you still tried to deny it. "No..." You whimpered. God you sounded so stupid. You had, you totally had and he knew now. You couldn't help it though, you felt so needy today and you were planning on having morning-sex with him but he was gone, fucking gone and you needed release. So, you grabbed up your vibrator and went to town. Aizawa's scoff followed by his smirk pulled you out of your racing thoughts. "Really? You want to make this worse for yourself by lying, kitten? You left your fucking vibrator on the bed. You really should be more logical next time you fuck yourself without my permission and expect to get away with it." He looked like a hungry animal, you were so embarrassed you turned away from him and bit your lip. Aizawa growled and slapped your ass with all his might before grabbing your jaw and turning you to look at him again. "Don't you act coy with me kitten. Not when you've been such a dirty little pet." You were blushing so red you thought you'd explode. All you could do was play along and be as good as possible and maybe your punishment wouldn't be as bad. "I-I'm sorry...master. I won't do it again." "Damn right you won't, not without my permission." He yanked on your arm and you stumbled forward and falling into his chest. "Pathetic little kitty~" Aizawa purrs before snatching you up into his arms and making his way to the bedroom with you. Your mind is racing, what was he going to do to you? He made rules very clear and one of them was 'no touching yourself without master's permission'--and you'd never seen him this angry with you before. When you were tossed onto the bed you pulled yourself out of your thoughts. You had a safeword and you know Aizawa would never hurt you or do anything you were uncomfortable with. Aizawa noticed you relaxed a bit before he smirked and made his way over to the side-table. Inside that practical drawer is where he kept most of your toys, besides from your personal vibrator which you kept hidden. He didn't like using those kind of toys on you since he preferred using his cock to pleasure you. You bit your lip and waited patiently for him to choose a toy. The drawer shut and you turned your head to see Aizawa holding the black leather paddle in his hand, running the fingers of his other hand over the cool leather on it. You gulped, but were ready. "Strip everything off except your panties." You nodded and started to remove your clothing piece by piece. You got to your bra and unclasped it, letting it fall onto the bed and revealing your perky breasts to the dark haired man in front of you. Now you were in nothing except your panties like he had asked. Aizawa hummed in approval before giving his next order. "Face down ass up, kitty." You obeyed his order still hoping he was going to take it easy on you for following orders. After you got comfortable in your position, you felt the paddle run over your pantie-clad ass. But when you felt the paddle leave your ass you tensed up immediately--but all that happened was Aizawa's hand coming down into your hair and petting it gently. "Kitten, relax..." "S-sorry master.." Aizawa's facial expression got soft and so did his voice. He kept his hand in your hair. "Don't be sorry, I'm only going to give you five. Can my kitty handle that?" You felt so much relief when he said that, both because he sounded so caring and also because it was only five spankings. You nodded, but it wasn't enough for Aizawa. "Kitten, use your words." "Y-yes...yes--I can handle it." Aizawa leaned down so his lips were pressed into your hair. "Count kitten~" SLAP "Aah! O-one!" You said in a harsh whisper. Aizawa pulled his whole body away from yours and circled around to your other side. SLAP He hit your other ass cheek, a little harder this time. "Two!" You got louder this time, you felt so wet, you were embarrassed that this turned you on so much, but then again--it was Aizawa. You felt his hand smooth over your reddening skin and he went over to the other side to hit your other side again. SLAP "Three! O-oh master~" You basically were a moaning purring mess now. You loved this, your nipples were getting harder as they rubbed against the sheets and your panties were getting soaked. "Why are you being punished kitten?" Aizawa asked in a dominate voice, loud and clear. You made a small pathetic noise as you tried to collect yourself. "Because...I touched myself--without master's permission." Aizawa was happy with your answer and stroked your arching back. SLAP "Fuck! F-four master!" Aizawa sat the paddle down for a moment to pull down your panties, which were now completely soaked with your juices. "Last one is going to be the hardest one kitten, you're doing so good." And with that-- SLAP --the final spank came and you almost had an orgasm from the intense feeling. "Five! Oh fuck please touch me master! I need you so badly!~" You begged, you craved any kind of touch right now, you felt so needy. You heard Aizawa unzip his pants and the dip of the bed from him getting on it behind you. Your ass still in the air and now red and slightly bruised. "Good kitty, master is going to take care of you now." With that, Aizawa pushed his hard and leaking cock inside your tight heat and let out a groan. You pushed back, you loved the feeling of his hot dick inside of you, and after the rush of being spanked it was even better. Aizawa settled all the way inside of you before pulling out slightly and pushing back in. Back and forth until he found a good pace. You covered your mouth with your hands to silence yourself, not wanting to disturb the neighbors. But as soon as Aizawa saw this, he used one of his hands to rip your hand away from your mouth. "Let me hear you kitten, who do you belong to?" You let out a long moan before answering him as he kept pounding into at a faster pace now. "Y-you master! I belong to you!" You shout, not as loud as you could though and Aizawa knew this. "Louder!" You shout louder. "I belong to you master! Aahhh fuck I'm so close, can I please cum master?" "Oh now you fucking ask permission huh?" You could hear the smirk in his voice, but you were getting so close and you didn't dare want to come without him saying it was okay. "It's okay kitten, cum for master." You came as he slammed into the hard and gripped your ass so hard you swore you were going to have marks all over it. "Mmm~~ Ahh! Yes!" You let your juices cover his cock, and shortly after you stopped cumming, Aizawa came inside you, painting your walls. He pulled out of you once you both were done and you collapsed onto the bed, moving onto your side. Aizawa laid down beside you and kissed your cheek tenderly. "You--are amazing kitten." He breathed out, and you couldn't help but giggle weakly at his kind remark. He was truly amazing...

#aizawa x reader #Aizawa Shouta x reader #bnha smut #smut #fanfics #xreader

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emeraldbirdcollector · 5 years

Text

Why David Tennant and Catherine Tate are the BEST Benedick and Beatrice EVER.

I have just seen this version of Much Ado About Nothing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OS1wo_8L3Yc&feature=youtu.be

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QBEyNB5pFhI&feature=youtu.be

It is STUNNING. Not just for the physical comedy, though Tennant is an absoilute master of physical comedy, especially that involving hips, and Tate is right up there with him. (Tennant chews the scenery just as much as Branagh did in the same part, but Branagh appears to be doing it to call attention to himself, while Tennant manages to convince you that the scenery is Tasty and he’s enjoying his meal thoroughly.) Not just for the kid who shows up at random bits and gets laughs by Being A Kid.

But Tennant’s Benedick and Tate’s Beatrice get some things right that I’ve never seen a Benedick and Beatrice get right before.

(This is going to get long, so I’m going to put the rest of this under a tag. Please excuse me while I geek out in geeky fashion. This is my favorite play and now this one is my favorite version of it.)

They get the seriousness of what Claudio does to Hero. Both of them do. It’s a hard thing to grasp in our modern age, where an accusation like that and a rejection might break a young woman’s heart and leave her the subject of unpleasant gossip for a little while. but no worse. In the context of the play, though, Claudio would have been kinder to run Hero through with his sword. He has effectively and completely ruined her life for good, denied her marriage of any sort, denied her any chance at a healthy adult life and family, left her a lonely pariah outcast and rejected by even her dearest family members (or at least she’s supposed to be, but while Leonato goes along with it, Beatrice, bless her, refuses utterly). Which is why when she is proven innocent, he needs to make a Very Public confession of how wrong he was and how innocent she was, to undo the damage he did to her (and even then, there’s probably some remaining).

Leonato is bitterly shamed and furious - first at Hero, but then when he’s finally persuaded that she’s innocent, at Claudio and Don Pedro. But his fury is for the shame brought on him and his family name. Hero is a symbol to him, his Sweet Obedient Daughter who has been a Good Girl so far and made him proud, and he is perfectly willing to turn on her the moment she doesn’t fit that image any more.

Only two people immediately and completely believe Hero innocent and stand by her. The Friar, who as a Man of God is pure of heart enough to see Hero’s purity - and Beatrice, who loves Hero as her sister, who sees her as a human being who has been bitterly betrayed and wronged, who reaches out to embrace and protect her, who is utterly furious on her behalf. Hero is a person to Beatrice as she is to no one else, not just a role being played or a mobile piece of decorative household furniture that has suddenly developed an unexpected and not-previously-visible flaw. And maybe Beatrice also feels a bit of guilt there, because she wasn’t sharing a bed with Hero that night and can’t prove her innocent, likely because she was busy mooning over Benedick.

Benedick - and Tennant does this masterfully - is stunned and in shock, and has no idea which way to turn. His loyalties are ripped nearly in two by the wedding scene - he trusts and is fond of Claudio and the Prince, but here they’re doing something really shockingly awful to a woman beloved of his own darling Beatrice, and Beatrice is as convinced of her innocence as he is of Claudio and Don Pedro’s honorable natures. He’s sure there’s got to be some misunderstanding. He wants to blame Don John, whom he does not like or trust, instead of his friends. He wants to restore sanity, find the solution, fix things. He’s the one who keeps pulling Leonato away, preventing him from hurting Hero physically, who joins with the Friar in urging everyone to calm down and think rationally, who wants to hear everybody out and find a sensible explanation for all this.

And then he’s alone with Beatrice, and her grief visibly hurts him, to the point where he blurts out his love for her just because he wants to comfort her. And for a while, she does cheer up, and she confesses her feelings too, and for a moment he forgets the situation and rejoices in her love - and then she tells him to “Kill Claudio,” and he’s shocked back into the moment.

What Catherine Tate gets right here is Beatrice’s RAGE. She is furious at what has been done to her innocent cousin (whom, given the difference in their temperaments, she has probably looked out for and been protective of all their lives). She is absolutely merciless as she outlines, piece by piece, just how badly Hero has been wronged, belied, betrayed - and how brutal Claudio has been, and how vital it is to stand up for Hero now. She is frustrated almost to the point of madness because she can’t do it this time, she can’t fight Claudio, she hasn’t the training or the physical strength, But she will damned well make sure someone does, even if it means sending the man she loves out to either die or kill his best friend. Claudio. Must. Die.

Most Benedicks here retain a sense of torn loyalty, and go off to fight Claudio reluctantly because Beatrice demands it and it is an essential task to win her heart. Tennant’s Benedick listens to Beatrice, hears what she has to say, genuinely respects her judgement - and he is persuaded. His loyalties rip completely, and he willingly chooses his side, not just because Beatrice is on that side, but because Beatrice’s side is the right side. He challenges Claudio because he firmly believes Claudio has behaved badly and should be called out on it, and he resigns from the army because he has been persuaded that Don Pedro is no longer a fit leader to serve. He loves Beatrice not just enough to fight for her cousin, but enough to listen to her, to trust her, to respect her, to be convinced by her. And that is why he is worthy of her - and why Don John could not get him, ever, the way he got Claudio, because Benedick would have talked to Beatrice, one lover to another, and worked out what was going on, rather than throwing her aside like a piece of artwork he bought that turned out to be a forgery.

And in the end, most Benedicks are relieved to be able to pin everything on Don John and cheerfully, completely reconcile with Claudio. Tennant’s Benedick doesn’t, quite. He gets, as other Benedicks have not, the significance of the line being “An you are like to be my kinsman, live unbruised,” instead of “an you are innocent, let us be friends again.” There’s a bit of menace in his delivery of that line, even a warning slap in the face on the “live unbruised” - what he’s really saying is not the usual, relieved, “Oh, good, you’re innocent and it’s all that bastard John’s fault, so we’re friends again,” but “I saw what you were willing to do to my kinswoman, my wife’s best friend and sister. She’s forgiven you, and she’s in your power now, so I’ll make peace with you for the family’s sake. But try that again, and I will END you.” (To his credit, Claudio accepts that as deserved, which it is.)

Tennant and Tate also do an absolutely brilliant job of convincing the audience from the beginning that they’re really crazy in love with each other, letting their love for each other show through their sparring, making it clear that the sparring is just a protective shield to keep the other from breaking their heart again (and it’s quite clear that they’ve had some sort of relationship, and it broke - probably because Benedick was afraid of commitment - and now they’re each convinced the other hates them, but they’re still unable to stop thinking about each other, so they cover it up by constant bickering and insults). Beatrice can’t help asking the messenger if Benedick is back safely from the wars - she frames it as insults, but she’s clearly been worried. Benedick is genuinely hurt by Beatrice insulting him to his disguised face at the ball (and oh, that disguise, and the way Tennant wears it, it’s gorgeous- those HIPS omg) - unlike Branagh’s Benedick, who seems more resentful of the blow to his ego and the insult to the wit of which he is so proud, Tennant’s Benedick is brokenhearted because he’s just heard the woman he really loves dismiss him with apparent contempt and dislike. Beatrice, when questioned by Don Pedro, makes it quite clear that she’s lonely, but that she’s not prepared to marry for anything but real love - and pretty much confesses outright, in that quiet and vulnerable moment with someone who cares and won’t mock her, that her heart is still Benedick’s. And just before the eavesdropping scene, in Benedick’s monologue, he adds just a little tweak to the description of the Ideal Woman Who Could Convince Him To Marry that makes it quite clear he’s thinking of Beatrice and her alone. The palpable relief they show when they can finally admit their feelings, and when they realize the other still loves them, is glorious. They can’t keep themselves from bursting into laughter at inappropriate moments, not just because the situation is funny, but because they’ve just got so many FEELINGS and they’re finally able to be let out and it’s such a relief that they’re both downright giddy. It’s adorable.

I would also comment here that it’s not just Tennant and Tate, though they steal the show - the other actors in this are brilliant, too. Elliott Levey as Don John is masterfully insinuating and sneaky, a talented gaslighter, while Tom Bateman’s Claudio is just innocent and gullible enough to be readily deceived, and manages to show a level of remorse and repentance once Hero’s innocence is revealed that make me feel less sorry for Hero having to marry him in the end than I usually am. You get the feeling he might genuinely have learned from his mistake and might be a better person in future. Jonathan Coy, as Leonato, plays him as a comfortable, genial sort of squire whose world has been turned upside down, and who is furious and out of his depth and passionately determined to get his honor back, whether that means throwing away his cherished daughter or killing his former potential son-in-law. Someone is going to pay for publicly humiliating him (not Hero, him).

Adam James’s Don Pedro has an easy air of authority - until Don John’s treachery is revealed, at which point he seems genuinely shaken. And he makes his proposal to Beatrice seem genuine - he’s charmed by her and attracted to her, and while he’s not yet as much in love with her as Benedick is, you get the feeling he might be, had he been given time and encouragement. I didn’t believe that either Denzel Washington’s Don Pedro - though I loved him - or Reed Diamond’s had a thing for Beatrice, but I get that loud and clear from this one. Her rejection hurts him - but he’s an honorable enough man that his next move is to get her fixed up with the man she is obviously pining for, a man she considers worth rejecting a wealthy prince for. (And rejecting him is a big deal. When Leonato thinks Don Pedro is wooing Hero as himself for himself, he gives her quite clear orders that she WILL be wooed, because after all, he’s the PRINCE. Beatrice literally turns down Prince Charming for a man of far less wealth and status, and he realizes why, given that she’s practically confessed to him a few minutes before that she’s still got feelings for Benedick - “I gave him use for it, a double heart for his single one...”) During the eavesdropping scene, he quite clearly says, “Would she had bestowed this dotage on me - I’d have doffed all other concerns and made her half myself,” and he’s only partly mugging for Benedick’s benefit, part of that is genuine, I think. And at the end, when he sees her happy with Benedick, he’s happy for her - but there’s some pining on his own behalf, too. Which makes Benedick’s “Get thee a wife!” a bit of a barbed phrase, and you can see the barb go home.

I can’t find the name of the woman who played Margaret, but she was a delight, too, as playful and witty as Beatrice and clearly an old and cherished friend of both hers and Hero’s, as well as a servant. Certainly not afraid of talking back to her employers, well aware that Beatrice and Benedick have it bad for each other and quite willing to tease both of them mercilessly about it, but genuinely fond of both of her ladies and wishing both of them well (Borachio makes it quite clear that her seeming betrayal of Hero was innocent and unknowing, and that he was the schemer, not her). When Benedick tells the Friar and Leonato that he wants to marry Beatrice, she gives the most adorable happy squeal. I hope she continues as Hero’s lady’s maid - Hero needs someone tough and witty in her corner, though of course she’ll always have Beatrice (and now Benedick, in a brotherly sort of way) on her side as well.

John Ramm’s Dogberry and Mike Grady’s Verges get their parts thoroughly right, too - they are delightfully dim, but full of self-importance, trying SO HARD to be witty like the aristocratic characters, and they have NO IDEA what they are getting wrong. They overact like crazy, but they’re supposed to.

Alex Beckett’s Borachio is first casually flip about his villainy and proud of his cleverness in getting so much money out of Don John and fooling the noble Don Pedro and Claudio - but then he hears that Hero died of it, and you can see the seriousness of that hitting home. He’s not as much a villain as Don John. It shakes him, that he killed an innocent woman, and you get the feeling that his confession to Leonato was not drawn from him by the constables, incompetent as they are, but came straight from him. And he takes all the blame himself and makes sure to exonerate Margaret. There’s some honor left in him.

All in all, this is the best version of my favorite Shakespeare play that I have ever seen. You should see it too.

#much ado about nothing #david tennant #catherine tate

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