#can you tell im running out of gifs to separate the writing and a/n ksdkskd

[pinkcannibal]

Hello! Could I request classroom sex with Marilyn and student reader? Reader couldn’t keep still in her seat and kept teasing Marilyn by spreading her legs showing her that there was nothing underneath, so Marilyn just f^cks her in readers desk with a strap? Can there also be heavy dumbification? Thank you !!

hi! so sorry for the wait <3 disclaimer reader is a student and 20. tysm for the request hope u enjoy!

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title: private display of affection

pairings: marilyn thornhill x fem!reader, established relationship

tw/warnings: extreme dumbification/degradation, strap on usage, praise!kink, mommy!kink, soft dom!marilyn thornhill, bottom!reader, heavy subspace, fluff, smut, strap packing, classroom sex, finger sucking, deep throating

word count: 2680

requests: open!

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The tutoring with Miss Thornhill starts when you fail your latest exam, and so discouraged and torn apart by it, you honest to god almost start crying in relief when Marilyn offers to privately tutor you. 

She said it so casually the other day, while you laid back against her front on the couch beside her fireplace, in her dorm and curled up, so warm and content in her embrace. Tutoring is a huge task, and this intense wave of love and gratitude over takes you as Marilyn suggested it. You softened as the words hit you, looking up from your position on her chest with gentle eyes.  

“You’d really do that?” 

And the other woman titled her head, fixed her glasses in confusion, like the idea she wouldn’t was absurd. “Of course, baby.” She said, so loving your skin prickled. “Your education is very important to me.” 

And you smiled, kissed the underside of her jaw and watched how she melted at the action. 

So, now you’re here, every Thursday in the conservatory as Marilyn walks you through certain sections of her Botany class curriculum. It’s basically dusk, with a blanket of fog rolling into Nevermore, and the glass roof splatters softly with rain droplets that fall down the windows slowly. 

What you struggled with in the exam was certain scientific equations, related to the chemical makeup in plants. And usually, like every other week so far, you’ve been so good for her, her good girl, pretty and patient and attentive perched up on top of your desk as Miss Thornhill teaches you.  

But there’s something about her today, right now, that makes you want to act out. How the blouse she’s wearing is slightly too small for her, straining against the other woman’s chest. How Marilyn has rolled up her sleeves to her elbows, holding a text book in her grip.  

And when she gestures with her hands as she talks, your throat goes dry at how attractive they look, how the slacks she’s wearing hug her hips and her thighs and her waist and her- 

You blush, eyes flicking down, only now noticing that Marilyn has chosen today of all days, to publicly pack.  

And your breath hitches seeing the almost unnoticeable bulge, because you know Marilyn only wears it like this if she’s feeling particularly bold, or wanting your attention. God, you think, you have it. So badly.  

Suddenly, you want to get down on your knees for her, take her in your mouth and let her dumb you down while you sit there for her, so pliant and good and doe eyed as she fucks your mouth softly. 

You choke on a whimper at the thought. And so thoroughly taken by the image of her leaning back against her desk as she talks, that you want to tease her now. You shift in your position on top of your desk, feel how wet you already are, and blush. Soaked just at the sight of Marilyn and the knowledge she’s wearing her strap.  

Whatever Miss Thornhill is saying gets lost to you, drowned out in your hazy mind as you uncross your legs, bite your lip and wait for her to notice.  

She does, and her words stutter mid-sentence as you widen your legs and push the hem of your school skirt up your thighs ever so lightly. Marilyn’s eyes darken as she tries to compose herself, walking closer to you and tilting her head. She places the book beside you, and when she speaks, you can hear how husky her voice has gotten. 

 You gasp a little as she takes your chin in her fingers, smoothing her thumb across your bottom lip. Can she see how wet you are for her? How soaked your underwear already have become?  

“Sweet girl,” Marilyn starts, a little like a warning as she sends you a chastising frown. You blush, squirming atop your desk. “None of that, I need all your attention up here, okay? Aren’t you my good girl?” 

You’re powerless to the desperate mewl that escapes, your heart beat goes erratic at the gentle degrading words and how the other woman is now between your legs, and oh god you can feel her hard length press a little to your open thighs. You can see how delighted her hazel eyes are behind her glasses at seeing you notice.  

And maybe because Marilyn teased you first, by nonchalantly wearing her strap as she taught you, you decide to reach for her belt loops, tug harshly on a petulant whine. Already, that familiar space she forces you into takes over your mind, and goosebumps start to line your skin.  

“M’ your good girl,” You slur, wet eyes flicking down to her stomach. “But you, god Mari, you’re wearing-” Your voice hitches, blushing as she urges you up to her eyes again with her fingers at your chin.  

She’s faux pouting to you as the words get stuck in your throat, like you were too dumb and blissed out already to form a proper sentence. 

“Oh, baby,” She coos. “I’m wearing what? Come on, say it.” Miss Thornhill urges, and you whimper as your hips buck a little at her tone, how she talks down to you so sweetly and lovingly.  

Marilyn then drops your chin, hands finding the inside of your thighs and smoothing over your skin in a hypnotising way, nails digging in lightly making your eyes water and chest tighten in need.  

Then she’s leaning forwards, kissing you so gently you chase her like a pathetic puppy, doe eyed and desperate when she leans back, murmuring against your lips.  

“Gosh, you’re just so cute when you’re so spacey for me.” She praises, smirking teasingly. You flush red across your nose. “Is my pretty girl too dumb to say she wants Mommy’s cock?” 

Fuck. You whine, tug harder on her belt loops, you can feel your wetness between your thighs now with how ruined your underwear must be. But you still nod, you still nod, confirm for her that you can’t think and can’t speak when she’s like this. 

And Marilyn lets you pull her hips forward, she groans a little at how you pathetically try and grind against her cock through her slacks and how you wrap your legs around her waist, forcing her so close that you moan throatily at feeling her hold to your hips, encourage your grinding and to control your wet heat against her hard length.  

Your skirt is bunched up and thighs trembling, you know you must look so small and submissive as you choke out around your arousal.  

“Please, fuck,” You bow forwards onto her shoulder, reach up and fist Marilyn's red hair at her neck as an anchor and sink into that space when she hisses at the feeling.  

“Want you,” You gasp, and turn your face into her neck, nibbling and mewling into her skin when Miss Thornhill digs her nails in harder to your hips in warning.

“I want you right now. I can’t wait mommy, please.” You beg, and it comes out a little teary and desperate. “Please please, I’ll be good.”  

You repeat your words in a plea, and the begging has Miss Thornhill just groaning; leaning forwards and ducking her head a little to kiss you so deeply that your fingers clench in her hair.  

And suddenly one of her hands finds your heat between your legs, making you gasp as she fingers the waistband of your underwear and softly pulls, tugs on the material in an unspoken question.  

The action is familiar and so attractive that on instinct, you buck up and obey her, helping Marilyn pull them down and completely off. She throws them on the floor, forgotten, and her tongue inside your mouth tastes so good. You pout when the other woman unfairly pulls back, taking away the addicting feeling. 

“So desperate,” She says, and you feel your stomach flip at how turned on she sounds, how Miss Thornhill moans as she slides two fingers through your heat under your skirt, feels how utterly soaked you are.  

“Fuck, and wet,” She whimpers, and you sigh into this high-pitched moan at the touch and words, how she gathers up your slick, circling your throbbing clit as you bite your lip.  

“You’re so stupid for me, aren’t you?” Marilyn coos, furrowing her brows in sympathy at your glazed over expression. “You can’t just wait until we’re back in my room, baby girl? Want me to fuck you right here?” 

You can’t speak, your tongue is heavy and numb in your mouth at how she degrades you, how sweet her voice sounds and how lovingly the insults sound from her lips. You chase the high and nod quickly, biting down so hard on your bottom lip you almost draw blood.  

“Right here, please.” You breathe out, and when you tighten your legs around her waist your breath catches in your throat as Marilyn stops teasing your clit, and instead quickly but expertly unbuckles her belt, unbuttons her slacks, and tugs the zipper down.  

Then she’s hushing you so sweetly when you moan at seeing her take out her strap from her briefs, urging you closer until her length pushes against you and you grind and tug her forwards, begging for her cock inside you. You’re almost off the edge of the desk with how eager you are, held up only by Marilyn and your legs around her. 

“God, darling,” She sighs out, enamoured at the sight of you wanting her so badly. Her lips part in unrestrained want when you desperately grab the base of the strap, sinking her tip inside of you with a groan. You’re so slick that one thrust could fill you whole, (and your eyes shining back up to her are all doe eyed and dumbed down and you see Marilyn soften at the desperation like melting wax.)  

“You have to be quiet, honey.” She says, but it falls into a surprised gasp because you whine and buck harder, take more of her strap slowly. Her hazel eyes flick down, gripping to your hips and settling your eagerness with a commanding head tilt. She hushes you, makes your throat bob on a mewl you can’t help when her hand is cupping your cheek and trying to catch your blissed out expression.  

“I love when you’re loud, baby. But right now, we can’t have that, can we?” You shake your head no, so obedient and ready to listen that Marilyn’s eyes darken.  

You can be her good student, her best student, such a good learner that she won’t ever have to question your loyalty.  

“Good girl,” She praises, and you whine a little when her two fingers prod at your bottom lip and she urges a little deeper inside of you with her strap, free hand holding to your hip as she makes it half way deep.  

And the feeling of almost being so full of her makes you shut your eyes and almost sob.  

“I need you to be so good for me and suck my fingers, honey.” Miss Thornhill says, and you nod again and whine, opening your eyes once more and parting your lips. You wrap your lips around her digits, blush and squirm and silently plead for more of her cock. You can feel the soft black of her nail polish against your tongue and your throat bobs as she starts to pump, so gently and softly that you tear up. 

Marilyn just sighs softly at the image of how fucked out you already look, as you take her up to her knuckles so well. “Just moan around them, okay? Let me do all the talking and touching. You’ve been so good listening, so just relax for Mommy, sweetheart.” 

And then you choke around her fingers on the most pathetic whine, because she bottoms out in you in one smooth, quick thrust, and you see stars behind your eyelids as you squeeze them shut and clench around her. She sets a slow pace, groaning as she hears the wet sound of her fucking into you, and you can’t breathe properly with her fingers in her mouth so you open your eyes, mewl around her digits and silently beg for her to go faster with a pleading furrow of your brows. 

Marilyn moans at the look, but has to bite her lip from being too loud. And she reads you so easily as she picks up speed and scrunches the fabric of your skirt up with her free hand at your thigh, looking down and groaning softly at how well you take her as she watches her strap disappear inside of you. 

“Fuck, baby,” She pants, looking back up and thrusting so hard and deep inside of you. The desk squeaks with her curling into you, and you know the wood is stained with your cum as you drip all over her and grab desperately to her shoulder blades and neck.  

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” She confesses, taking her fingers from your mouth, just to settle them at the column of your throat and press her thumb into your jugular. You gasp, able to breathe properly now, but when you swallow you feel her hand tight against your throat and you gush onto her cock at the feeling.  

“God, I’ve wanted to fuck you here ever since I met you.” Miss Thornhill groans, kissing you and biting to your lip. You let her inside your mouth, whimpering as she pulls back and breathes out: 

“You look so pretty taking me like this.” You gasp, climbing higher and higher, so embarrassingly close to coming you want to cry for her to slow down. But it feels so good when she talks like this.  

“Oh sweet girl,” Marilyn coos at your reaction, thrusting so deep and fast inside of you that your lips part from how overwhelmed you feel. The praise is almost too much. “I bet you’d look even better bent over, wouldn’t you? You want Mommy to take you from behind, baby?” 

Then she’s hitting that spot, making you cry out in pleasure and you know you’re being loud but you don’t fucking care, the praise and this floaty feeling and how deep Marilyn is, has you lost to the world.  

And you can't even ask for permission to come, because it washes over you so suddenly you jerk your hips and whine, falling forwards into Marilyn’s neck and panting and just gushing around her.  

You think something like ‘fuck, m-mommy, I’m coming, don’t stop, don’t stop-” leaves your lips in a throaty moan, but you aren’t sure, because Marilyn just says the sweetest praise in your ear, something that sounds like “That’s it, good girl, come all over me sweetheart.”  

And you feel her hand hike your thigh closer up her hip to angle better, and she keeps gasping “So good, keep going honey. You take me so well, my pretty baby-” and at some point nothing else exists in your mind but her, because you let her make you come again, moan her name out over and over again, not even caring how loud you are. 

And something just clicks inside of you as she lets you ride it out, talking you down and being so sweet. You’re all floaty and gone at that point, you just make this little noise, almost a whine, into Miss Thornhill’s skin when she tells you how good you were, even for such a dumb little girl.  

The rain falls harder. There are stars in your eyes and galaxies under your skin where she touches you.  

You retake your exam the next week.  

(You pass with flying colours.) 

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