#smutty david

[cassiana-on-dark-side]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Pink Floyd, Rock Music RPF, David Gilmour - Fandom Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: David Gilmour/Reader Characters: David Gilmour, Reader Additional Tags: Smut, Consensual Sex, worship body, Aftercare, smutty david, 1970s era Pink Floyd, ficmour Summary:

Give him a photo shoot, they had told her. It will be fun, they had told her. Spoiler: it was.

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list just let me know and I will be happy to do so 🥰  

taglist: @letsdeinen @snowcherrie @gilmourchilmour @nature-and-music @tangerine-page @whyamistillfangirling @multidimensionallove @jonesyjonesyjonesy @barrettavenue @urawizardkari @lsd-astronaut @raiseyourgoblet-of-rock @classicrockenjoyer @simply-calidreamer @coolerthansnow

[luvs4matt]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐑!𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐃 𝐏!𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 .𝟎𝟎𝟏

with love and stems, cherry ღღ

riding him while he sucks your tits

in the car

he is big big

fucking you from behind

lickin’ you up

your nipples in his mouth

you’re on top while making out

he had enough of your shit and made you become louder than you’ve ever been

fingering

stroking his dick

playing with your pussy

fucking you from behind pt.2

a/n - THIS IS A LEGAL AGE GAP!!! NOT ILLEGAL!!! PROFESSOR!SPENCER IS 38 WHILE READER IS EARLY-MID 20’S!!!

[elenthyaolyenths]

Please, listen to this.

Rose-tinted view

And satellites that compromise the truth

But I wanted more

With the cuts and the bruises

Touch my face

A hopeless embrace

I need to believe

But I still want more

With the cuts and the bruises

Don't close the door

On what you adore

Have faith!

It drives me away

But it turns me on

Like a stranger's love

It rockets through the universe

It fuels the lies and feeds the curse

Believe !

We could be glorious.

They are bound. For better and for worse.

To Hell, to Heaven.

To each other.

@goodomensafterdark

For pure smut, I am still warming up. But it's coming. :-p

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[ellswritings]

Undercover Heat

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

TW: Regular Criminal Minds violence, mentions of blood, death, and gore, suggestive content at the end (no smut), a bit of foul language, enemies to lovers, Hotch is kind of a meanie.

»»————-　➴　————-««

Sitting in the Los Angeles police station for the third day in a row has the entire team from the B.A.U stretched thin and exhausted. They’ve been dealing with a serial killer who targets couples with large age gaps in upscale, luxury clubs. He’s taken out three couples in the past three weeks. Tension was thick in the air, the exhaustion from long hours spent hunting a brutal unsub weighing on each of them.

Y/N runs a hand over her face in irritation as she leans on Morgan’s shoulder. They’ve been driving themselves crazy trying to figure out who this killer is. They’ve gone to multiple different clubs asking if anyone has seen a man between ages 35-50 who tends to sit at the bar people watching rather than engaging in the night’s festivities. But the regulars and employees said they hadn’t seen anything. Their unsub has been strangling his victims in the luxury clubs before dumping their bodies exactly two miles away in very particular positions. They’ve all been found in public spaces. But so far, they were missing something.

Hotch stood at the front of the room, flipping through the latest crime scene photos as Rossi and Morgan finished pinning the map with the last locations of the attacks. Y/N sat across from Reid, skimming through her notes as she analyzed the patterns. With an IQ of 179, a doctorate in criminology and psychology, two master’s degrees in chemistry and law, and a B.A. in history and human resources, her mind rarely rested. She could also fluently converse in four languages—French, Russian, German, and Spanish—which had come in handy countless times in the field. Despite her vast knowledge and sharp instincts, this case had left her unsettled. Something was off, and they hadn’t cracked it yet.

Rossi broke the silence. “We’ve been over this already. The unsub is hitting clubs that cater to the upper class, targeting couples with large age gaps. But there’s still a piece we’re missing. Why these clubs? Why these victims?”

Morgan crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. “This guy knows how to pick his victims, that’s for sure. But he’s not choosing randomly—there’s gotta be something more connecting these places.”

Y/N frowned, glancing between the case files and the map. “It’s not just about wealth. These clubs aren’t the most high-profile ones in the city, and they’re spread out across the area.”

Reid tapped his pen against the table. “It’s true. They’re not clustered in one neighborhood, and they don’t have a shared ownership group or any overt connections that we’ve found.”

Emily Prentiss nodded from her spot at the edge of the table, deep in thought. “What about the victims? They’re all couples with significant age differences. That’s part of his ritual, but it doesn’t explain why he’s picking these clubs.”

Y/N was staring at the list of clubs they’d canvassed earlier: Ascend, Bourbon Room, Cielo. She narrowed her eyes, something beginning to click in her mind. “Hold on…”

“What is it?” Hotch asked, noticing her shift in focus.

Y/N sat up straighter, her voice thoughtful. “The clubs… they’re in alphabetical order. Look—Ascend, Bourbon Room, Cielo. He’s not just picking random spots. He’s following a sequence.”

Reid’s eyes lit up in realization. “You’re right. It’s subtle, but it makes sense. This kind of obsessive order suggests a particular form of OCD—a need to control every element of his actions. It’s not about the clubs themselves; it’s about the order they fall into.”

Morgan rubbed the back of his neck, impressed. “Damn. This guy’s not just a killer—he’s a full-on control freak.”

Hotch nodded, his expression serious. “If he’s following an alphabetical pattern, we can anticipate his next move. What’s the next club in line?”

Y/N flipped through the files, pulling out the next likely target. “‘DeVane.’ It’s upscale, fits the profile of where he’s been targeting couples. If he’s keeping to this pattern, that’s where he’ll strike next.”

JJ stepped forward, pointing at the map. “Alright. So we’ve got the next location. Now we just need to draw him out.”

Rossi’s eyes light up with an idea as he looked between Y/N and Hotch, “Well, we know the unsub’s got a thing for couples with big age gaps. Looks like we need a decoy.”

Before anyone could react, Morgan’s gaze landed squarely on Y/N, mischief dancing behind his eyes, “And we’ve got the perfect couple right here.”

Y/N blinked, momentarily stunned. “Wait, hold on, what?”

Emily, catching onto Morgan and Rossi’s plan, chuckled. “He’s right, you know. You and Hotch fit the profile. It’d be perfect.”

Y/N stared, incredulous, before glancing toward Hotch. The man was stone-faced, as usual, but she could feel the tension rise between them. “You want me to pretend to be in a relationship with him?”

Morgan shrugged, his smile widening. “Well, you’re 23, Hotch is… not 23. The age gap fits perfectly.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, frustration building. “You’re seriously suggesting that Hotch and I—two people who can barely tolerate each other—pretend to be a couple?”

Hotch didn’t even look up from his files. “We’re professionals. We can set aside our differences for this.”

Y/N let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Set aside our differences? Hotch, we can’t even get through a team meeting without arguing over strategy. How do you expect us to pull off a believable relationship?”

Prentiss leaned in, smirking. “You two do argue like an old married couple already.”

Y/N threw her a sharp look. “That’s not funny.”

JJ chimed in, trying to defuse the tension. “Look, I know this is uncomfortable, but we need to catch this guy before he kills again. You two are the best option we have.”

Y/N shook her head, frustration bubbling over. “This isn’t just about being uncomfortable. We have to convince the unsub that we’re a legitimate couple—he’s going to notice every detail. And we’re not exactly… compatible.”

Hotch finally spoke up, his tone calm but firm. “We don’t have to like each other to do our jobs, L/N. We just have to be convincing enough to lure the unsub in.”

Y/N stared at him, arms crossed tightly. “Convincing? You and I can barely stand to be in the same room. How do you expect us to sell a romantic relationship?”

Morgan chuckled from the side. “Come on, L/N, you’re one of the smartest people I know. With that IQ and all those degrees, you can figure this out.”

Y/N shot him a glare. “I have a doctorate in criminology and psychology, a master’s in law and chemistry, and a B.A. in history and human resources. None of those degrees cover ‘pretending to like your boss who you can’t stand.’”

Rossi stepped in, his tone more diplomatic. “Look, we wouldn’t ask you to do this if we didn’t think you could handle it. This guy’s escalating, and we need to act fast. You and Hotch are the best team for this.”

Y/N sighed, clearly frustrated but recognizing the urgency. She looked over at Hotch, who met her gaze with that same impassive expression. “Fine,” she muttered. “But for the record, I still think this is a terrible idea.”

Hotch gave a curt nod. “Noted.”

»»————-　➴　————-««

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, eyeing the skimpy red dress that Emily had insisted she wear for this undercover mission. The fabric clung to her figure, accentuating every curve. The slit on the side revealed a generous portion of her thigh, leaving just enough room to conceal her gun but not much else to the imagination. The sweetheart neckline plunged dangerously low, exposing far more cleavage than she was used to. She felt exposed, vulnerable—but Emily had been insistent.

“Trust me,” Emily had said with a wicked grin. “You’ll knock them dead.”

Y/N took a deep breath and adjusted the neckline again, trying to reconcile the professional part of her brain with the woman staring back at her in the mirror. She wasn’t usually the type to use her looks to her advantage, but tonight was different. Tonight, the mission came first.

She stepped out into the hallway where the rest of the team was waiting. The moment she appeared, Morgan’s eyes widened, and he let out an appreciative whistle. “Damn, Y/N, you trying to kill the unsub or us?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “It’s not that bad.”

Morgan grinned, his gaze trailing over her in a playful, non-threatening way that only a close friend could get away with. “If this guy doesn’t fall for the bait, Lord knows I will,” he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth making Y/N slap his chest.

Emily stepped up beside Morgan, her eyes lighting up with approval. “See? I told you that dress would be perfect. You look like a total bombshell.”

Y/N glanced down at herself, smoothing the fabric over her hips. “Yeah, well, I feel like I’m about to flash someone.”

Emily shrugged, unfazed. “That’s kind of the point.”

Morgan shot her a wink. “You’re gonna break hearts tonight, sweetheart. Just make sure it’s the right one.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered toward Hotch, who had been silent since she entered the room. His gaze was locked on her, but he wasn’t saying anything. His eyes were dark, his expression unreadable, but there was something in the way he looked at her that made her stomach tighten.

He quickly glanced away when she caught him staring, clearing his throat. “We need to focus on the mission.”

“Right.” Y/N nodded, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in her chest. She wasn’t here to impress anyone—least of all Aaron Hotchner. He was too serious, too controlled. While Y/N on the other hand tends to handle the job by hiding behind a wall of humor and sarcasm, something Hotch hates. They’d never gotten along. This was strictly business.

Still, as they walked out to the car, she couldn’t help but feel Hotch’s presence looming next to her. He hadn’t said a word about the dress, but the way his eyes had lingered on her—particularly on her cleavage—hadn’t gone unnoticed. It was like he was trying not to look, but failing miserably.

By the time they arrived at the club, Y/N’s nerves had settled somewhat. The loud thrum of music pulsed through the walls as they approached the entrance, and she straightened her spine, trying to adopt the confident persona they needed for the night.

“Okay,” she murmured as they stepped through the door. “We need to sell this. So maybe try not looking like a statue,” she grumbles lowly.

Hotch, staying ever stoic, gave a curt nod. “I know.”

But Y/N wasn’t convinced. Hotch’s body language screamed discomfort. His shoulders were rigid, his movements stiff, and he had the expression of someone being dragged to an event they wanted no part of.

She leaned in closer to him, keeping her voice low. “Hotch, you’re going to blow this if you don’t relax. We’re supposed to be a couple.”

“I’m relaxed,” Hotch said, though the tension in his jaw told a different story.

Y/N huffed in frustration. “You look like you’re about to interrogate someone, not go dancing with your girlfriend.”

Hotch shot her a look. “I’m here to catch the unsub, not dance.”

“You’re here to catch the unsub by pretending to be my boyfriend,” Y/N whispered fiercely. “Right now, you’re not doing a very good job of that.”

Hotch’s expression remained impassive, but Y/N could sense the faintest hint of annoyance in his eyes. “What do you suggest?”

“Start by putting your arm around me,” she said through gritted teeth. “Couples don’t walk into clubs two feet apart.”

Hotch hesitated, then slipped his arm around her waist. It was awkward at first, his hand hovering as if he wasn’t sure where to put it. But Y/N pressed into him slightly, encouraging him to pull her closer. After a moment, his grip tightened, and they moved deeper into the crowded club.

They found their way to the dance floor, where couples swayed and ground against each other in the dim, pulsating lights. Y/N turned to Hotch, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of their target. They had to blend in.

“Follow my lead,” she said softly.

Hotch nodded, though the tightness in his posture remained.

Y/N began to move to the music, her body swaying in time with the beat. Hotch tried to follow her movements, but he was stiff, almost robotic. She bit back a sigh and leaned into him, pressing her body against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“We’ve got eyes on us,” she whispered in his ear, her lips brushing against the skin just below. “Black hoodie, sitting alone at the bar. You need to make this believable. Stop acting like I have some incurable disease.”

Hotch’s hands found her hips, his grip firm but hesitant. Y/N could feel the tension radiating off him, but she kept moving, her body fluid and sensual as she ground against him. Their bodies remain close, she spins around pressing her ass against crotch, and for a moment, she felt his breath hitch.

“You’re too stiff,” she murmured, leaning her head back, her lips grazing the shell of his ear. “Relax.”

Hotch’s hands tightened on her hips as he tried to match her rhythm. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders began to ease, and he pulled her closer, his breath now becoming warm against her neck.

“That’s better,” Y/N whispered, her voice low and teasing.

Hotch’s hands moved more confidently now, gripping her hips with a possessive strength that sent a shiver down her spine. Y/N’s heart raced as she tilted her head slightly, brushing her lips against the skin of his neck. She trails kisses up and down his skin, nibbling at the soft spot that connects his shoulder to his neck. She turns back around, running her hands through his raven black hair, tugging on the strands which ends up pulling a small groan from Hotch’s lips. The music and atmosphere of the club seems to have pulled them in much deeper than they thought. It’s getting harder to breathe the closer they stay.

“We’ve got his attention,” she murmured, her lips ghosting along the curve of his jaw. She fights off every urge to leave a mark. “He hasn’t looked away for the past five minutes.”

Without warning, Y/N moves her attention from his neck and kisses him, her lips pressing against his in a way that was both soft and urgent. Hotch froze for a split second, but then his hands gripped her waist, pulling her even closer as he deepened the kiss. He’ll probably scold her for the unprofessional action later, but they need to keep this guys attention if this is going to work.

It was electric, the tension between them igniting in a way neither of them had anticipated. Hotch’s hand moves upward, gripping the back of her head. If her eyes were open, they’d be rolling into the back of her head with the way he’s dominating her. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she kissed him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. For a moment, it didn’t feel like an act.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their eyes locked. Hotch’s expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze—something Y/N couldn’t quite place.

“He’s hooked,” Y/N whispered, her voice breathless. “We need to get him somewhere more secluded. Before he hurts someone else.”

Hotch nodded, his grip on her waist still tight as they made their way toward the exit. Once outside, the cool night air hit them, and Y/N quickly scanned the area, her heart still racing from the adrenaline of the moment. She can’t see if the unsub followed them. The only light illuminating the area around them being the moon.

“We need to keep making this look real,” Y/N murmured as they moved toward a shadowed alley. “Just in case he’s still watching.”

Without warning, Hotch spun her around and pinned her against the wall, his body pressing into hers. One of his hands is still tight on her hip, the other one shooting up to her neck, squeezing it slightly to hold her in place. Y/N’s breath catches in her throat as Hotch’s eyes visibly darken.

“Is this believable enough for you?” Hotch whispers, his voice low and rough in her ear.

Y/N swallowed hard, enjoying the tiny amount of pressure on her throat. “Yeah… that’ll do.”

They stood like that for a few moments, their bodies pressed together in the darkness. Hotch plants open mouthed kisses from her cheek all the way down to her neck and across her chest, the neckline allowing him much needed access. Y/N sucks in a shaky breath, still waiting for any sign of the unsub. She could feel the tension between them, the heat radiating off Hotch’s body as he held her against the wall.

Suddenly, movement caught her eye. The unsub stepped out of the shadows, his gaze locked on them. Y/N’s instincts kicked in immediately. She shoved Hotch to the side, spinning around to face the unsub as he lunged at her.

In one swift motion, Y/N ducked under his arm, grabbing his wrist and twisting it behind his back. The unsub let out a grunt of pain as she swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground.

Hotch was by her side in an instant, helping to restrain the unsub as they waited for backup to arrive.

When it was all over, Y/N stood there, breathing heavily, her heart still pounding from the adrenaline. She glanced over at Hotch, who was watching her with an unreadable expression.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but steady.

Y/N nodded, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Hotch’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he looked away, his expression unreadable once again. “Good work.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile, despite the tension still thrumming between them. “Thanks. You weren’t so bad yourself.”

As they waited for the team to arrive, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. The mission might have been over, but the tension between her and Hotch was far from resolved.

»»————-　➴　————-««

Y/N barely made it through the door of her hotel room before she kicked off her heels with a sigh of relief. Her feet ached from the hours spent in the club, and all she wanted was to peel off the red dress that clung to her like a second skin, take a long shower, and crash for the night. The team had successfully apprehended the unsub, and they’d earned a few hours of sleep before their early flight back to Quantico.

As she reached for the zipper at the back of her dress, a commanding knock on her door stopped her mid-motion. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was late, far past the time she expected anyone on the team to come knocking. Confusion settled in her chest as she moved toward the door, wondering if someone had an emergency or a last-minute update about the case.

When she opened the door, the sight that greeted her sent her heart racing.

Hotch stood there, but not like the composed, stoic team leader she was used to seeing. His tie was loosened, the top buttons of his shirt undone, and his usually slicked-back hair had a slightly tousled look, as if he’d been running his hands through it. But it wasn’t just his disheveled appearance that threw her off—it was the way his dark eyes flickered with something raw, something he was barely holding back.

He looked… frazzled, but not in a scared or anxious way. No, this was different. It was the kind of frazzled that spoke of barely-contained desire, the kind that made her feel like she was standing on the edge of a cliff.

Her heart skipped a beat as his eyes swept over her, lingering on the red dress she was still wearing. His gaze darkened, his jaw tightening for a split second before he quickly looked back up at her face. But not quickly enough.

“Hotch?” she asked, her voice uncertain, her brows knitting together in confusion. “What are you doing here? It’s late—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Hotch stepped forward, forcing her to take a step back. He shut the door behind him with a firm push, the click of the lock sending a shiver down her spine. His entire presence was overwhelming, the space between them growing smaller with each passing second.

“Why are you still in that dress?” he asked, his voice low and rough, his gaze once again dipping to the neckline of her dress. It wasn’t a question borne out of curiosity; it was an accusation, a demand.

Y/N blinked, completely thrown off by the intensity in his eyes, the tension radiating off him in waves. “I—I just got back. I didn’t have time to—”

But before she could explain further, Hotch took another step forward, backing her up against the wall. His hands were braced on either side of her head, caging her in. The heat of his body was intoxicating, the scent of his cologne filling her senses.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice a low growl, “what the hell were you thinking?”

Y/N’s heart was racing now, her breath hitching as she stared up at him. His face was inches from hers, his breath warm against her skin. “What are you talking about?”

“The kiss,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “The way you touched me. What were you trying to do?”

Y/N’s lips parted in shock, her mind spinning. This wasn’t an interrogation—not really. This was something else, something charged with an energy she couldn’t ignore.

“I was trying to sell the cover,” she replied, her voice faltering slightly, though she stood her ground. “We had to be convincing.”

Hotch’s eyes flashed with something dangerous. “Convincing? You were doing a hell of a lot more than that.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as his words hung between them, thick with implication. The way he was looking at her, the way his body pressed so close to hers, sent heat pooling in her stomach. She could feel the tension crackling between them, making it harder to breathe, harder to think.

“What are you trying to say?” she asked, her voice quieter now, her heart pounding in her chest.

Hotch’s gaze bore into hers, his voice dangerously soft. “You know exactly what I’m saying.”

Y/N clenched her fists at her sides, trying to regain control of the situation, of herself. But the way Hotch was staring at her, the way his body was crowding her against the wall, made it nearly impossible to think straight.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“You didn’t do anything wrong?” Hotch’s voice was thick with disbelief, and he leaned in even closer, his lips hovering near her ear. “You kissed your superior, L/N. You pushed yourself against me like a dirty whore. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

Y/N felt her pulse quicken, her skin tingling where his breath brushed against her ear. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to push him away or pull him closer. The heat between them was suffocating, and her body reacted in ways she couldn’t control.

“You kissed me back,” she shot back, trying to hold on to some semblance of control, even as her voice wavered.

Hotch’s hand slid down the wall, his fingers brushing against her arm, sending a shockwave of electricity through her. His lips were so close to her neck now, she could feel the warmth of them, but he didn’t touch her—at least, not yet.

“You want to talk about what I did?” His voice was a husky whisper. “Or do you want to talk about why you did it in the first place?”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart racing. “What are you trying to get at, Hotch?”

“I’m trying to figure out what was going through your mind,” he said, his eyes dark with intensity. “You could’ve made it believable without kissing me like that. But you didn’t.”

Y/N’s skin flushed, and she fought to stay composed. “I did what I had to do to keep the cover intact. That’s it.”

Hotch’s lips twisted into a smirk that sent a ripple of heat through her. “Is that what you’re telling yourself?”

Her pulse was in her throat now, and she couldn’t ignore the way her body responded to his nearness, the way her mind spun every time his breath ghosted over her skin.

“You’re trying to act like you don’t care,” Hotch murmured, his voice low, predatory. “But you can’t stand it, can you? You’re as affected by this as I am.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, and she pressed her palms flat against the wall behind her, trying to ground herself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You may be able to lie to yourself,” Hotch said softly, his hand brushing over her side, sending a shockwave of heat through her. “But you can’t lie to me.”

Y/N’s heart was pounding in her chest, her breathing uneven as the tension between them became unbearable. Every inch of her body was attuned to his, and the more they fought, the stronger the pull between them became.

“Maybe it’s you who can’t handle it,” Y/N shot back, her voice shaky, but defiant. “Maybe you’re the only one who’s affected.”

Hotch’s eyes darkened even further, and without warning, his lips crashed against hers, all of the tension, all of the pent-up frustration between them exploding in that moment.

Y/N gasped into the kiss, her body melting into his as his hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him. A certain wetness pools between her legs as his thigh spreads her legs apart. She grounds herself against him as the kiss builds. It’s fierce, heated, and Y/N can’t stop herself, her hands tangling in his hair as she kissed him back with equal fervor.

It was overwhelming—the way his body pressed into hers, the way his lips moved against hers, demanding more. She could feel the heat between them building, igniting something deep within her that she couldn’t suppress.

For a moment, everything else faded away. The mission, the team, the rules—they all disappeared, leaving only the fire that burned between them.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to regain control.

“This is a bad idea,” Y/N whispered, her voice breathless.

Hotch’s hand slid up her arm, his fingers brushing against her neck. “I know.”

But neither of them made a move to stop.

[doraminatook]

Friend: Have you watched Rivals yet?

Me: No...I haven't. I know it's weird, but I just don't think I can watch a sex scene with David Tennant. It's too strange.

Friend: Says the girl who writes all the smutty Good Omens fics.

(A long pause)

Me: I don't think I can watch a sex scene with David Tennant that doesn't involve Michael Sheen.

Friend: THERE WE GO!!!

[skeletonapricationday]

SPICY DAVID HEADCANNONS

I have not found any smut related thing to this man, and to me that is a crime. I carnaly desire him, I long, I pin for him. Gimme David smut. This is mainly for a female reader but feel free to ignore any gender related comments and enjoy regardless of your sex. Anyways I'm lazy so here's some Headcannons.

No titties, Itty bitties, or big ol' honkers he doesn't care. David has never been one to have a specific fetish or type for his partners body. Hell he's just happy someone like you wants to have sex with him. As long as he can bury his face into your chest while you fuck, regardless of wether he's pressing against a flat board or being muffled by your mounds, he's a happy camper.

David isn't one to shave often. He's always sporting some kind of bush down there, he loves nature afterall. His pubes don't worry or bother him since he doesn't grow alot of body hair in the first place. For hygienic reasons he does trim, working in the sun all day does make him sweat.

Once again David is all about nature! He doesn't care if you're all smooth like a baby's bottom or if you're Becky with the good hair, a meals a meal. He nearly cums when you cum, even without contact, so he does enjoy a good session of oral. Picking pubes out of his teeth later isn't a concern.

David surprisingly isn't much of a moaner. All those years of working as a camp consular has trained him to be quiet. He's used to thrusting into his hand while biting his bottom lip, keeping himself silent for the campers sake. This has turned him into a whimperer. He's all whines and hushed begging. Whenever he shoves his head into the crook of your neck during the heat of the moment, it's like being given a private concert.

Davy loves a good pet name. Call him sugar, sweetness, darling, or even pretty boy. He doesn't care. As long as it's a term of endearment it sends a pang to his heart and heat to his dick in the bedroom. Expect alot of silent pleads, he just wants to be called a good boy.

David is easy to have his feelings hurt. Pretty please be nice to him! Degradation just isn't his thing. He would always try for his partners sake, if that's your thing, but he doesn't enjoy it. Being called a hurtful thing just makes him wanna cry. It's even worse if you request he do it. You remember what happened when he last pretended to be tough. This doesn't mean he's utterly vanilla though.

Overstimulate him. Oh does he adore becoming a whiny mess. As long as you warn him before hand that you're going to do it, he's down. He especially loves when you claw the amount of times he's cum into his back (be careful with your marks though, yall don't need any nosy campers asking questions. Always keep it under the shirt.) David has been extremely sexually repressed throughout his life, he's got plenty in the tank to spare.

David's libido isn't insanely high. He'd much more enjoy a sweet picnic, or a romantic hike in the woods compared to sex. He'd never reject it though. This does mean most of your sexual ednevours will have to be initiated by you. You learn pretty quickly as long as the area is clear he's down to bone, so it isn't much of a problem. Just crawl in his lap late at night while all the campers lay asleep, and it is on like Donkey Kong!

David surprisingly doesn't do porn. He's always had an overactive imagination. Who needs adult entertainment when you have the perfect titties in your mind? Better yet, who needs porn when he has you? You learned this by asking about his porn taste, only to find out he doesn't have one. He does do strippers on the other hand, you learned this before you were in a relationship. Having to drag his drunk ass home from Muffin Tops.

Thighs, utterly delectable. Wiggle your thighs at him and his mind goes south. He just can't help it, they're tempting him. Especially in those little shorts (as long as he ignores the sexist implications of the women's camp consular uniform) he can't help but stare. Expect alot of thigh grabs, thigh hugs, and small little hickies hidden on the inside of your thighs. Delcious~

His favorite sex positions are the ones where you have to be close, which means any positon. He'll find a way to make it work. Riding him while pressing your forehead to his, a mating press with his face hidden in your shoulder, doggy as he pants against your back, spooning while he's inside you. As long as he can work his way near you, and I mean really near you, it's his favorite. He especially enjoys a nice romantic night of missionary since he can see your face, kiss you whenever he pleases, and when you lock your ankles behind his back it feels like heaven.

He's such a sweet boy. He may be on top of you, fucking into you in a dominant position but he's a bottom. No matter how you have sex, you're the one in control. Feel free to swap the position or flip him over and rock his world. He doesn't mind it, whatever you say goes. He loves when you're really dominant, those nights where you're beyond frustrated from bratty campers are his favorite.

David preens when you mark him. It does sadden him that due to the nature of his job you can't mark him more, but it's understandable. He'll take whatever he can get. Scratch marks down his back, check. Hickies hidden on his chest, check. Bitemarks on his thighs, for sure check. Mane him however you please, just keep it under his clothes.

I adore this man. Obviously love him. Keep your eyes out for an actual smut shot, or even normal one shots. I just want my little work husband.

[0and0its0doctor0]

You Belong to Me, I Believe

David Rossi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not smutty but not clean either, CM Violence, Unwanted kissing by unsub

Summary: An unsub gets a little too flirty with you. David steps in.

WC: 1,021

Thank you @my-mummy-dust for helping me with everything and being my muse <3

You and David are sitting in the interrogation room in a tiny police department in Belmont, Louisiana. The unsub sitting in front of you was accused of murdering 8 women with another two still missing. David was asking him questions but he was refusing to answer anything, all he would do was stare at you practically drooling from the mouth. You and David walked out of the interrogation room and you ran a hand across your face with a sigh. It was hot, you were already sweating in your button up shirt and this interrogation was going nowhere.

“I have an idea. Just go with it.” You said taking off your over-shirt leaving you in a tight form fitting tank top and letting your hair out of the scrunchie that was holding it in a loose bun on top of your head. “What are you doing? You aren’t going in there like this.” David said stubbornly. You just looked at David with a raised eyebrow as you walked into the interrogation room. There was a low whistle from the unsub and David wanted to shoot him right then and there. 

You asked him the same questions David asked him and he answered most of them. He flirted relentlessly with you. “I’ll tell you where the girls are if you let me touch her.” He said and David smacked the table glaring at the unsub. “You don’t get to touch her. Only I get to do that.” He snapped, his voice low and threatening. “Let him.” You said stepping closer to where the unsub was chained to the table. You leaned forward just enough for him to run his chained hands through your hair. You were pulled back by a seething David Rossi.

“Get ready.” He said angrily into the radio as the unsub told you where to find the missing girls. Once David gave the information over the radio he pulled you out into the precinct. “What were you thinking?” You had never seen him this mad. “I was thinking we needed to find the missing girls and I was going to do whatever it took.” You folded your arms across your chest. He unfolded your arms and pulled you into a rough kiss tangling his hand in your hair and pushing you flush against his body. 

The kiss was sloppy and heated and angry. His hands were all over you and you felt your cheeks flush bright red when you remembered you were standing in the middle of a podunk police station with your entire team watching with rapt attention. When he finally pulled away you were panting and the color of a cherry tomato. “Do you guys need to go back to the hotel?” Aaron asked with a slight smirk to his face. David looked down at you as you were trying to straighten out your shirt.

“Nope. Just reminding her who she belongs to.” He said casually walking away leaving you there blinking. Emily walked up to you, the biggest shit eating grin on her face. “You have lipstick on your chin.” She said laughing as she walked away leaving you to run to the bathroom to sort yourself out. You couldn’t believe that just happened. Well if the team was going to find out about you and David dating might as well be in the middle of a small police department in Belmont, Louisiana. 

You were both standing in the hallway when the unsub was brought out, they were re-cuffing his hands after un-cuffing him from the table when he got loose and booked it towards you. He wrapped his arms around you pulling you into a forced kiss, the entire precinct burst into action. David pulled his gun pointing it at the unsub who had you held tight against his body. The officers that were originally handcuffing him managed to pry him away from you as you got shoved towards David who caught you and quickly walked you to the other side of the room out of harm's way. You were shaking trying to process what just happened.

“Hey. Are you okay?” David asked, his fingers gently grasping your chin so you were looking directly at him. “I uhm. I wasn’t expecting that to happen.” You said shakily, all of a sudden you were very cold. He leaned forward to kiss you but this time he was gentle and he caressed your cheek with his thumb. “Do not move.” He told you, stepping away from where you were leaning against a desk because you felt like your legs were going to give out. You watched as David walked up to the unsub and decked him. He walked back over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his side.  “Come on. We’re done here.” He grabbed your upper arm and guided you towards the waiting SUV’s. “But what about the girls?” You asked as he buckled you into the front seat. “You're the only girl I’m worried about right now.” He got in the driver's seat and took off towards the hotel. 

Once you arrived at the hotel and were safely inside David’s hotel room you sat on the edge of the bed not really sure what to do. “Hey kitten. You’re okay.” He said brushing some of your hair back. You surged forward practically knocking him to the ground as you aggressively pressed your lips to his licking your way into his mouth. He growled and wrapped his hands around your waist walking you backwards till you were flat on the mattress. His lips left sloppy wet kisses across your chin, down the curve of your neck and you groaned as he sucked a bruise into your clavicle. “I love you baby.” He whispered into your ear, licking the curve of it causing you to shudder. “You know I love that.” You said breathlessly causing him to smirk. “My beautiful girl.” He said into your ear before placing open mouthed kisses along your exposed skin. And that was how your bra wound up tossed across the room landing on a lamp.

[pjisskullourful]

𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓼

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

🌼Damiano × reader

part 28 [series masterpost]

NSFW 🚨 nasty kinky filthy slutty smut

° Damiano David/female reader insert

wordcount::: 9,880

° part anon request: How would you feel about at some point Damiano and his girlfriend having a massive embrace at some point? Like a bear hug. You know those full body ones where you’re just squeezing the shit out each other and there just like a palpable feeling of love and connection between the two of you? + part inspired by this spicy audio ° dont forget that commissions are back!! you can snatch up the 4th spot in my priority cue here

° [ITA:] favoloso: fabulous - cazzo: fuck

The day at work had seemed to take more energy than was typical. You were still feeling tense as you climbed into your car.

There had been too many points during the day where you had felt like you didn’t know what you were doing. Between catching up on the things you had missed while in Australia and helping with the integration of the office’s new system, it had been nonstop. And Max had been out sick, giving you no access to your quick pick-me-up.

As you drove the familiar route home, you caught yourself in cycles of thought. You were replaying things that you had said or things done, so that you could assess yourself. You identified more than one instance where you could have done better.

The embarrassment was like a taste coating the inside of your mouth - always present, even when you weren’t actively thinking about it. It would only be dispelled through active efforts.

It lingered, even as you walked through the front door of your apartment.

You didn’t have the place to yourself this week - Damiano had four days free from the world tour. So far as you knew, his plan for the night was solely to hang out with you.

You were quick to remove your restraining shoes before setting off to locate Damiano.

You found him in the lounge room, standing with his back to you as he got something down from the bookshelf. In just sweatpants, he looked relaxed, maybe you could gain some of that mood for yourself simply by being around him.

“Honey, I’m home.” You said, able to fake a fraction of enthusiasm.

He turned to face you straight away, smiling even before his eyes were on you. “Hey, there’s my baby. I was just looking at photos of you.”

He held up a collection of Polaroid photos that was in one hand. From the bookshelf, he had picked out an album that was dedicated to these smaller prints. You ignored the couch, walking toward him.

“I was separating the just-for-us stuff from the safe-for-work stuff.” He explained.

This album sat in the main room, able to be viewed by anyone visiting your home, you couldn’t be surprised if someone wanted to look through the pages. And if they did they would see smiling photos, silly photos, group photos, sentimental photos, non-explicit photos.

The explicit photos were in a secret spot - living in a smaller book on his bedside table. These were moments that existed only for the two of you. Newer additions included the both of you naked in front of a hotel bathroom mirror, thanks to him taking an artistic view of how each of you looked when emerging from the shower. You had taken a photo of him completely naked as he had enjoyed a cigarette on a hotel balcony.

“Oh, a very important job.” You said. “Can I interrupt that to ask for a hug?”

He set the objects down without hesitation. “Abso-fuckin’-lutely you can.”

He turned back to you, extending both of his arms out. Instantly you placed yourself into his personal space, your chest flush to his as you wrapped your arms around his middle. You rested your cheek on his shoulder as he embraced you with just the right firmness.

You shut your eyes, getting away from the negativity in your mind as you felt this closeness to him in every part of your body. His body heat wrapped around every inch of you, so comforting.

When you squeezed him tighter, he responded by squeezing you back. And he didn’t release you, he remained consistent in matching how you were giving all of your energy to this.

It felt nice to exist just like this, connected to him with nothing to do but be wrapped up in his love. Simplicity with no reason to assess. Effortlessly you matched your breathing to his. You didn’t pay any attention to time passing as you felt like you could melt into him.

He rubbed his hand up-and-down your back. “Are you okay? Did you have a bad day?”

“It was just a day of too much.” You said. “It was too much of shortcuts in the new system that I don’t know, it was too much trying to solve a bunch of little problems. It was too much thinking, my brain feels fried.”

“You’re gonna get there with the new system, kitten. It’s the point where you’ve still got the training wheels on. But one little improvement at a time and you will be killing it, on two wheels.” He said. “And you know I’m right because Daddy is always right.”

“Mm-hmm.” It was the best response that you could give him because the goal he was talking about didn’t feel within reach, not yet. 

“I’m sorry your brain is feeling all deep-fried and shit.” He said. “Do you want your Master to do all of the thinking for you?”

“Yes, please.” You said, quietly and needily.

“Okay, how about this: you go have a nice shower, literally wash the day away and I will have a lovely cup of tea waiting for you when you’re done? While you’re enjoying that, I will make us dinner. I saw that we have all the supplies for me to make you that beef and spinach pie you love so much.” He said. “Does that sound good to you?”

You pulled back so you could meet his eyes. “Yes, please. That sounds fucking perfect.”

“While I’m home it’s my duty to take care of you, so I better do a good job of it.” He said. He gave your ass a gentle pat.  “You go shower and I will do the rest.”

*** *** ***

You found yourself dwelling, once the distractions of showering and eating were gone, you reverted back to unhelpful thoughts. You were dreading the day at work tomorrow, instead of concentrating on the TV show that was playing, you were imagining scenarios that you would screw up. Your thoughts were moving quickly too, you didn't think you would be able to fall asleep to get away from these cyclical thoughts.

Damiano sighed as he picked up the remote, clicking to silence the music over the closing credits. “I don't know.”

You blinked, forcing yourself to focus. “Yeah, me neither.”

The second episode of Orphan Black: Echoes had just wrapped up and you couldn't think of anything noteworthy to discuss, because you had barely been paying attention. It had simply been playing, and now it wasn't.

The two of you had been waiting to watch this sequel series together, keeping an eye on the release date and planning the best time to start watching. You had saved it for when you were both home, minimising distractions. But it wasn't the experience you had been hoping for. It hadn't kept your interest enough to stop your mind from wandering - you were still thinking and imagining, all manner of things that had nothing to do with the science fiction show.

He didn't let the next episode begin playing. “I don't know if it's hooked me in yet. We used to have jaw-dropping and oh my God, can you believe that just happened moments in every episode.” He looked at you beside him on the sofa. “It's interesting, but it's not like I need to stay up all night to find out what happens next. It's not- it's not like the original.”

“No, it isn't. And I keep thinking about the original, too.” You said. “It makes it kind of hard to focus.”

“Maybe we would enjoy it more if we just took it as a separate thing.” He said.

You sat forward, checking the time on the screen of your phone. “We have time to keep watching, to see if we can get invested in it. But I think I will need tea before that. Do you want a cup, too?”

“Amazing idea. Yes, thank you.” He said before suddenly perking up, alerted. “Shit, I've gotta get that stuff out of the dryer. I'll meet you back here, okay?”

“Okay.”

Both of you left the quiet lounge room. As you were standing at the counter, listening to the kettle boiling, an idea came to you.

You didn't know why this solution hadn't occurred to you earlier. It grabbed you and you immediately believed its enticing potential.

You walked out of the kitchen before the water was boiled, heading into the bedroom. He was exactly where you had been expecting, folding and putting away the laundry. He greeted you with a smile, but he was hardly distracted from his task.

You sat down on the mattress, a heavy sigh accompanying this action. This earned you a concerned look from him.

“Are you still feeling low, baby?” He asked.

You nodded. “I can’t, like, shake the thoughts off. And because I have to be back there tomorrow morning, it feels like I don’t get the chance to properly relax.”

“I'm not used to seeing you so hung up on work stuff like this.” He said. “I know you said before that you didn't want to talk about it, but it could help. Maybe if you just ranted and got all of it off your chest, you would feel better?”

“I have a different idea. My problem is that I can't stop thinking about it. Well, what if I was forced to think about something else, something that I really have to concentrate on or there would be consequences?” You said.

He furrowed his brow as he placed a bunch of socks into a draw. “I'm not sure I know what you're getting at here.”

You took a deep breath. “Can I have the CEO, please?”

He paused, looking up from the basket of clothes, a smile starting at the right corner of his lips. “Oh. That's the solution you have come up with?”

“Yeah. Is that- are you in the mood for that tonight?” You asked.

“I would be more than happy to play with you, naturally. And if it's a way to help you feel better- how could I refuse?” He said, removing the laundry basket from the bed before coming over to stand in front of you. He ran his hand down the side of your face. “I actually have a little scenario in mind for those characters.”

You licked your lips. “Can the CEO be mean to me?”

“Mean? Yeah, I can think of some ways to be less nice, more serious.” He said.

“Thanks.” You said.

He leaned down to kiss you on the forehead. “Thank you for letting me help, even if this is an unexpected approach.” His demeanour had subtly changed when he straightened up again. “I should get changed, and then I wanna see you in the other bedroom.”

“Do you want me to get changed too?” You asked - you were just wearing an old pair of pyjama pants with a plain tee.

“No, clothes aren't going to be necessary for you.” He said, moving away as he began to formulate some kind of plan. “How about you give me a little privacy for this part? You go back out to the living room, I'll get ready then head to the other bedroom and I will let you know when to come in.”

“Okay.” You said, getting to your feet.

“Hey…” He said before you could get too close to the door. “I love you.”

You smiled and, unable to help yourself, you rushed over to him. You hurriedly kissed him. “I love you too.” 

You had to take advantage of this moment for affection, because once the scene started there wouldn't be time for cute or sweet gestures. You didn't linger, turning around and leaving him to get into character. You already felt a little better, the distraction was promising.

Instead of waiting on the lounge, you took yourself back into the kitchen. You set the water to boil again and as it went through this noisy process, you got rid of the second cup.

When he called out your name, you were ready with a single steaming mug of tea. You walked towards the other bedroom, unable to dwell on your earlier thoughts as you concentrated on your posture and how to best portray your character of the secretary. It wasn’t your typical leisurely speed for walking around your apartment, you walked with the intent of getting there swiftly. But you didn’t run or anything like that, imagining how that could be perceived as strange by an office full of workers.

He had left the door slightly ajar, you knocked your fist lightly against the door before opening it. “Good morning, sir. I have that cup of tea for you.”

His back was to you as he sat at the desk. He had gone to the trouble of turning on the desktop computer that was usually reserved for your gaming. You could see that he had opened up a word document, currently it was blank but maybe there was some typing he intended to do.

“Lock that door and bring it over.” He said without turning his head.

You shut the door (it didn’t actually lock) and crossed the room. You saw that he was now dressed in a black suit, paired with an emerald green tie. Completing the look was the bored expression he wore, so convincing that you could believe he had been rotting away in here for hours.

As you set the mug down, he dragged his eyes over to you. “Do you have any idea how truly mind-numbing these performance reviews are to read?”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to help, sir?” You asked.

He took his hands off the desk and leaned back in the chair. “Actually, yes. I need something to make all of this work not seem so fucking neverending. And reading through hundreds of reviews, I deserve a reward for all of that work, wouldn’t you say?”

“Absolutely.” You said immediately. You thought about leaving out the door if (for even one second) it seemed like he was going to engage you in any problem-solving.

“Favoloso. I’m glad we agree. Take all your clothes off.” He said and you didn’t hesitate to push down your comfortable pants. “My day has been so dull, painfully so. But you’re going to help me fix that, aren’t you?”

Your skin had begun to rise into mild goosebumps as you took off your panties, the final piece of clothing. “It would be my pleasure.”

“This very boring work has given me time to think and plan. And I have a lot of plans for you, sweetie.” He said, swivelling the chair so that he could face you. “Turn around and hold your hands behind your back.”

As you started to turn away, you saw him reach for the knot that kept his tie in place. You didn’t see if he got it loosened before you were facing the wall. You looked at the light wall paint as you waited, unsure of how you could settle into this scene yet. You overlapped your wrists and rested them at the small of your back.

He took your wrists in his hand, then you felt soft fabric moving against your skin. You realised this was the emerald tie, being wrapped around your wrists.

The next thing he said was whispered. “You can always safe word.”

“Thank you, I will.” You responded as you hoped for him to pick a scenario that wasn’t too close to your reality.

He cleared his throat. “Obviously it’s beneath my paygrade to do, but if I were to write a performance review for you, I would applaud your discretion.” He began creating knots in the tie, trapping your hands in their current position. “I hoped that you would be able to keep secrets. And you have impressed me.” He latched his fingers onto your forearms, unexpectedly tugging on them, threatening your balance. “But don’t get too used to me complimenting you. Now, is that too tight?”

“No, it’s comfortable.” You said.

“Turn around.” He said. “That’s much better than looking at words on a screen.” His brow furrowed as he observed you. “You look worried. Nobody is gonna ask any questions of why you're in here, no matter how long you're gone for. Whatever work you were doing before you came in, that's all taken care of.”

“I know.” You said.

“I've got something that's gonna help you clear your mind.” He said. He opened the desk’s top draw and pulled out a familiar object. It was a matte black, egg-shaped vibrator. It was a small toy that would go inside of you, while being controlled by a separate remote.

You nodded, pleased by this progression. From the draw, he also took out a bottle of lubricant. He squeezed some of the strawberry-scented product onto his fingers then rubbed this all over the toy, making it shiny.

“Spread your legs.” He said. “I doubt I need that much lube, I bet you're already very wet.” He had a knowing smile as you stepped one foot away from the other. He leaned forward and down, pointing the tapered end of the toy up. He got this lined up with your entrance and started stretching your pussy open. “Yep, so wet, it just turns you on so much to get played with, huh?”

You nodded, feeling your heart rate increase. “Yes. Yes, sir. I hope all day for you to call me in, every time I get a notification on my computer it's like- like my pussy trembles.” Your breath shook on the next inhale. “And all night I'm dreaming of the ways you could play with me.”

“And you're just ready whenever I want you, it's so convenient.” He said, guiding the currently inactive toy deeper into you. “I guess I picked the right office toy.”

He got the toy nestled between your walls. He directed its flexible arm, shaping it to your labia majora, this anchor would keep the toy from slipping loose.

“This isn't to make you come. In fact, if you come, I'm gonna be very fucking annoyed and there will be a punishment.” He said. “This is just to keep you in line while you concentrate on your task.

“Now, is your balance gonna screw you up too much, or can you climb under the desk without my help?” He asked.

You hesitated as you looked down, planning your movements. “I- uh, I can try?”

He rolled the chair a little away from the desk. “It might be fun to watch you struggle.”

You bent your knees and took a cautious step forward, finding your immobile arms weren't inhibiting you by much. If you moved slowly, you could counteract any issues. You bent your knees more, getting yourself lower to the floor and you took another step forward. You ducked your head and brought your knee down to the ground.

“Get on your knees and turn around to face me.” He said.

You got both of your knees on the ground, keeping your head down as you walked yourself forward on your knees. You moved in under the desk, aware of the surface so close to your head. You awkwardly moved further forward, going until you reached the wall.

You felt very wobbly as you began to turn in a circle, you weren't used to feeling this uncoordinated when you were totally sober. Your head brushed against the bottom of the desk without smacking into it. He came into sight, watching your uncertain movements. He couldn't keep the concern fully off of his face.

You lowered your ass, resting it on the backs of your calves as you got comfortable - or as comfortable as was possible in this very small space. You looked at him, waiting for the next challenge as your heart beat quicker than usual.

“You followed that instruction. Let's see if you can follow this…” He said as he put his hands to the fly of his slacks.

Your eyes widened, your hopes lifting for the right kind of scene to fix your state of mind. You saw that the concern had left his expression as he pulled the short zip down. Your eyes darted repeatedly from his face to his crotch, trying to guess, and therefore prepare yourself for, what he planned to do next.

It wasn't much of a surprise when he pulled out his dick, but it was a pleasing sight all the same. You happily noted how it was already appearing firm. You flexed your fingers as you gave the shaft a longer look, you were wishing to touch it.

“Keep me from falling asleep by warming my cock with your mouth, hm?” He said.

You smiled, eager and relieved. There were many things you didn't want to deal with right now, things you didn't feel super capable of handling.

But you knew how to suck cock. There was no reason to doubt yourself in this field. You were leaning forward before he instructed you to do so, you didn't need to worry about not getting what you needed from this scene.

He brought himself closer too, wheeling the chair back up to the desk. His face disappeared from your view and your area got even smaller. Your cheeks were filling with colour and you were ready to go, to give into the fantasy totally.

“Do you think you can do that, sweetie?” He asked. He kept his knees as far from each other as the compartment beneath the desk accommodated. You could fit in between his legs without issue.

“Yes, sir.” You said, licking your lips.

One of his hands was in sight, wrapped around his member. You leaned in, so eager to get invested in his lust. You greeted his tip with a kiss, then another, beginning into a series where you steadily opened your mouth wider each time. He began making noise with the computer’s keyboard, you weren’t sure if he was actually typing words, but that wasn’t worth your attention. You let your lips wrap around his tip in the next kisses that you gave, your tongue darting out to get a little taste sporadically. His other hand left his cock, disappearing up to the desktop too.

You eased yourself down, thinking only of pleasing him. There were no scenarios to get lost in when you were so keenly concentrating on his every subtle reaction.

“Don't forget what I said, baby. You're not going to suck, you're going to warm my cock. When I want a blow job, I'll ask for one.” He said.

You kept your jaw and lips mostly relaxed as you took more of him into your mouth. You could feel how firm he was as his shaft passed against your lips.

You got close to the base and stopped, your mouth full.

You thought of your cunt and the vibrator buried into it. It was still completely motionless and you wondered how much it would contribute to this scene. Did he have something specific in mind to do with it? Or would he just forget about it?

His next heavy sigh sounded convincingly bored and annoyed, followed by more tapping of the keyboard. You imagined how rewarding it would be to get him into a better mood. You slowly dragged your tongue along the underside of his length, prepared to stop if this was against his rules.

But he didn't correct you. You slid your tongue up and around the side of his cock. You had to keep reminding yourself to not suck, it seemed like the natural thing to do, but you had to wait for his word.

You jolted, eyes bulging when you felt a sudden rhythm between your pussy walls. He had the vibrations set to potentially the lowest level of intensity. But it was enough to make your walls flutter, an ache radiating from between your legs. You shifted in your position, your desires telling you to get your hips moving.

You drew a deep breath through your nostrils, accepting that his challenge was truly beginning now. Further thoughts were banished from your mind as you slowly massaged his shaft with your tongue.

You didn't have any concept of how much time was passing. All you knew was that sometimes you heard him typing, then there were periods of silence.

“Hmm, I'm all out of tea.” He said. “Well I would hate to overwork you, sweetie. Let's just have you concentrate on one task at a time.”

It seemed to you that only a few seconds passed before you felt the toy's vibrations get stronger. This prompted you to really notice its position, the egg-shaped device was nestled in deep and pressed firmly against your pussy’s squishy walls.

With no wiggle room between it and you, you knew that it would be impossible to ignore. As it got more intense, there would be no escaping how sensitive it made you and it would be a challenge of your will to not get lost in the desires. Was that something you could succeed at?

You shifted your weight as you tried to get a smidgen of relief from the toy. You rested on one buttcheek more than the other and parted your legs, attempting to create space. You hoped that by having some of your cunt untouched by the stimulations you would be able to keep yourself settled.

He snapped his fingers, prompting you to instantly open your eyes. You found that he had ducked his head down, looking at you with narrowed eyes.

“Hey, who told you to move? You are here to sit still and keep your mouth on that cock.” He said, doing a good job of sounding fed up. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

He glared at you for a moment longer, your cheeks coloured bright red. Having a full mouth made things simpler. Instead of having to find the ideal (most pleasing to him) words and making the perfect promise, you could just prove yourself with your actions of doing as you were told. You gave him a serious look back.

And it was enough to appease him. He straightened up, his face disappearing from your field of vision again.

As you heard him resume his typing, you settled your body weight in your current position, intending to maintain it for as long as he desired. You concentrated on getting your breathing even, planning to use this as your foundation, the calm amongst the storm that you were sure was coming.

You felt him shift in his chair, then he laid his hand on top of your head. “How about you take it deeper?” He held onto you as you began moving your lips lower on his dick. “I know you can do it, sweetheart.”

As you drew your lips closer to his balls, you continued your mental chant to stay relaxed, to hold off sucking, still. You got him close to the opening of your throat. He gave you time to adjust, you placed your mouth in the most comfortable position. You could catch your breath.

“That’s better.” He said with a content sigh.

You held yourself still, even when he turned up the vibrations, making them more noticeable. But you didn’t properly acknowledge the pulsations, keeping them at a lower rung on your priority list.

You kept him as the only focus, the undeniable star. You dragged your tongue all over the length that filled your mouth. You felt out the veins that bulged, seeing how far you could trace them.

“Are you sucking?” He snapped and you froze.

You relaxed your mouth as you tried to recount what you had just been doing, whether on purpose or not. You supposed it was possible that in your endeavour to keep too much from spilling out of your mouth, you had briefly drawn your cheeks in. But there was no explaining this to him. You had to hope that your expression was apologetic enough as he came back into view. The prospect of disappointing him made your heart race and your gut clench.

“What did I tell you?” He asked, stern enough to make you shake a little. “I know that you don’t really get it because your entire job is fucking making tea. But I have actual work to do. And I haven’t got even half of it done yet…”

Your breath momentarily skipped as you wondered how long he would keep you down here. It was flattering to think that he was willing to dedicate potential hours of his energy to playing with you, in this very specific fantasy. If he wanted to spend an exaggerated amount of time with your mouth, then you wanted to spend just as long with his cock. 

“I know it’s hard for you, but can’t you pretend to be professional? Give being patient a try, instead of being the easiest slut in the world with those begging eyes.” He said.

He was quite marvellous in his teasing of you. It rattled you to hear words he wouldn’t usually say, a reminder for you to not get too comfortable. With him being wonderfully unpredictable, there was no chance of you getting bored.

You slowly blinked your eyes at him twice, this was the best you could offer him in lieu of being able to nod your head. This satisfied him that he didn’t have to keep scowling at you. He returned to his earlier posture, further tinkering with the computer.

Now you kept your tongue mostly still, becoming almost as inactive as a fleshlight. You shut your eyes, enjoying the absence of corrections from him.

You were breathing comfortably when you heard him begin to murmur to himself. “Let me see if-... a-ha, it is. That’s a damn miracle.”

You furrowed your brow but he didn’t keep you wondering for too long. He ducked his head down, looking less cross than before. But he still had the frostiness of his character intact, you could perceive that.

“I hit the halfway point. I was a little doubtful that I would be able to reach this point, it felt so far away. And now that I have, well, I think that I deserve a little reward. Something to help me celebrate and inspire me to do more of this terribly dull reading.”

You gave him another affirmative two blinks. He brought both of his hands down to hold either side of your head.

“I’m going to get some relief by pushing myself into that tight throat of yours.” He said and you did nothing to resist this proposed acceleration. “Just for a minute or so.”

It took focus to hold yourself to his earlier rule of not doing anything that was too similar to a blow job. You relaxed your throat as best you could. He shifted his position slightly in the chair and you fought back the urge of extra-excitement.

He drew your head closer to his body and you had your jaw hang slack. He stared into your eyes, giving as many insights as he was taking from you.

Your eyelids fluttered as his tip carefully entered your throat. It didn’t matter that you were expecting it, or that he moved slowly - the sensation still prompted surprise. You needed a second to adjust to this new feeling and he graciously gave it to you.

The surprise receded and you could get accustomed to this atypical feeling. The tightness felt like less of a concern the longer it went on.

He moaned as, with an arching of his back, he pushed his tip in deeper as you allowed. His next inhale audibly shook and you felt so much heat in your throat.

“Now, cute little thing, don’t forget to breathe through your nose.” He instructed, keeping the taunting edge in his voice. “Wouldn’t it be so embarrassing if you passed out ‘cause of this?”

You flared your nostrils, mostly adjusted to the new, slight restrictions on your breathing. It was a little more difficult but there was no sense of panic in you.

“I would have to ask someone for help.” He continued. “For your own safety, of course. But they would come in here and see a pathetic naked girl under my desk. And the explanation that this happened because you don’t know how to suck cock, can you think of anything more humiliating?”

The more that you thought about it (really picturing it thanks to his words), the more that your palms sweated as your heart pounding felt heavier in your chest. Meanwhile it was quite clear to you that he was relishing the idea. It wasn’t just about your fantasy right now.

He eased himself in more and the challenge of getting your throat to not clench truly started. You watched his chest swell and his eyes temporarily went unfocused. This was the closest you would get to his character complimenting you, it told you that he wanted to enjoy more of what he currently had - therefore you needed to give him as much as you could manage.

“Prove that you can be an effective desk pet.” He ordered.

Your lower lip was slippery now, the mess trickling down your chin, and probably soon to spread more. But that had to be ignored for now.

“Ah, yeah.” He moaned. “Do you like how that feels, having those balls on your chin? Your boss’ balls, right there on your face.”

You swallowed as best you could while he kept that arch in his back, not interested in pulling back from your throat yet.

“That desperate fucking look in your eyes. If I fuck your face, will that help you feel less desperate, little toy?” He asked.

Immediately you showed him the double blink to encourage him on. He held your head firmly as he started to experiment with moving his hips. He glided back a little before working himself into your throat.

“You can suck now, it’s okay. Show me how you can get me off.” He panted. “If you do it good enough, maybe I will let you come, too.

“Actually…” He trailed off as his attention went elsewhere. Beyond what you could see, he was reaching for something on top of the desk.

Once secured he showed it to you, the little, uncomplicated remote that paired with this vibrator.

“Just a little incentive for you, huh?” He said.

Your thighs clenched when you felt the power of the pulsations increase. It wasn’t as strong as it could be and you knew that you would need more to get you off. But it filled your body with a pleasing warmth and your mind was taken further away from the earlier slump.

“Don’t get too carried away. No coming until I say.” He said, his voice more restrained than before, but maintaining his sternness.

Meanwhile he was able to get very much carried away. The thrusting of his hips became consistent, stroking his dick back-and-forth between your lips. You saw how the fluttering of his eyelids kept happening, the time that he spent with his eyes closed lengthening.

He didn’t conclude every motion by plunging his tip into your throat, it just happened every now and then. That snug fit wasn’t the main thing that he needed anymore, not now that he had his promising rhythm.

You compared your current state to his. While you were almost entirely restricted, he was relishing every part of his freedom, not holding anything back. You craved it for yourself, craving to earn it.

You had a moment or two of matching him (testing how well you could move your head according to his pacing). But then he let loose even more, going into a quicker tempo. He was jackhammering his hips now and you shut your eyes, all of your effort going to not being pushed off.

It seemed that there wasn’t much needed of you beyond that. All you needed to do was be there to receive him and he would take care of the rest.

It wasn’t long before you were feeling the first noticeable drops of his cum. He gripped onto your head tighter as you felt more of that thick liquid springing out of him. You stopped caring about needing to breathe, you were willing to feel a little stinging in your lungs so that you could help him secure a fulfilling release. You sucked your cheeks in around him, already drawing some of his cum down your throat.

“Take it, you naughty little thing.” He coached.

There was only one more buck after this, then he claimed his climax. More of his liquid filled your mouth before he started to make a twitchy withdrawal from you.

You heard him gasping to get his breath back. You gave yourself a pause to settle back, letting your head momentarily hang. As you were swallowing, you took note of how wet your face was. You tried to not label the sensation as uncomfortable, because he might make you sit in this mess for a while.

“Cazzo…” He said with a sigh. “How do you feel?”

You were licking your lips as you raised your head again, letting him see your face. “I’m alright, sir.”

He seemed to be content with you staying in character, not looking at you in that concerned way for much longer. Because he trusted your word.

He slumped back in the seat, concentrating on his recovery at this moment. You remained in your contained space. It was in the centre of your field of vision, so you watched the way his member gradually lost its stiffness.

Silently observing this gave you the chance to notice that you were tired. You didn’t have the rushing thoughts to distract you from how low your energy was. It was as if you had just realised that you should be in bed.

Your body was responding to the device’s vibrations less now - it still felt good, but it didn’t have enough impact to really dominate your attention. You rested your ass back on your feet, noticing the quivering in your cunt less-and-less.

“And that desperate look is still in your eyes.” He said, gazing at you. Something in his stare made you focus more, knowing that the scene wasn't over for him yet either. “Maybe you can have a little fun because you did try so hard. I'll give you a moment to feel really good, but then you have to put your clothes back on and make me another cup of tea.”

“Yes, sir.” You said, watching as he seemingly realised that the remote was still in his hand.

The vibrator swiftly climbed up the levels of intensity and soon you had stopped thinking about going to sleep.

You clenched your thighs as the persistent rhythm started to have effect again. You felt how the sensitivities inside you had already had a head-start, so ready to run wild through you. A gloriously warm wave collided with you.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you observed all of these rapid changes. You were excited at the prospect of no longer concentrating so hard to control yourself in quite specific ways. You didn’t care to try to settle yourself, you just let the rush happen.

He pressed another button to activate one of the vibrator’s pattern modes. Temporarily the strength dropped, consistently low.

There was time for you to take a couple of deep breaths, then the next climb in intensity happened. As it plateaued at this new level, you smiled because you had identified which mode he had selected. It was a very simple pattern: it gradually reached maximum intensity, giving you time at three different levels. It stayed at the highest point for the longest time, then cycled back to the low beginning. It was an effective mode that could get you aching with anticipation while craving more. You knew that you were at the start of a fun ride.

The toy grew faster, reaching its peak and you moaned happily. The intense massage stimulated so much of your pussy, promising more than you had been allowed. This was the kind of pleasure you could get lost in. Your back arched as you faced a new tension.

Before you could get too accustomed to this level, the vibrations switched to go back to the start of the cycle. You released a shaky exhale, letting that exciting swell fade.

But you could still feel the new responses it had brought out as you awaited another round with that intensity.

You embraced this more subtle moment, letting your muscles relax, even as you continued to tingle pretty much all over. When you opened your eyes you found that he was watching you and you kept the smile on your face.

“The good girl likes that, hm?” He said, appearing pleased with how responsive you were.

“Yes.”

“Keep this fun moment just between us.” He instructed. “You aren’t allowed to get too loud. I don’t care how incredible it starts to feel, no one else can hear you.”

You nodded, noting that the medium intensity had been reached, but you didn’t let it totally distract you. “Yes, sir.”

He went back to silently watching you, concentrating on the little reactions that you showed. You felt your walls flutter as you acknowledged that you couldn’t hide even a fraction of your ecstasy from him, regardless of the volume of your voice.

His dick was still out, laying flaccid against his pants. You saw only hints of the glisten that his cum and your saliva had earlier had him covered in.

The device climbed to its highest setting again. Excitedly your chest expanded as you savoured the widespread effects of this intensity. This would allow you to bring into view the peak where your release was awaiting you.

He moved into a less common (and perhaps less comfortable) position in his endeavour to get a closer look at you. He bent down, his chest almost pushed into his thighs as he got his face close to yours.

He was within kissing range. But you knew better than to expect or initiate anything like that with his current character.

He cupped his chin in his hand as he wore a thoughtful expression. You worried that you had done something wrong. But you were too preoccupied with the end of the vibrator’s intense burst to ask.

“I didn’t think it was so cold in the office today.” He said, a train of thought that caught you off-guard. “But those nipples are telling a different story…”

You smiled as his eyes went down to your chest, where both of your nipples were standing at attention. It had nothing to do with the temperature, something so insignificant hadn’t been noticed by you the entire time you had been under this desk.

He grabbed the right peak with his fingers. You couldn’t help squirming as this contact coincided with the toy raising to medium-intensity. He held the nipple in a firm pinch, one that could be increased or eased off. The tantalising squeeze made your heart beat faster.

“Or maybe this is just a symptom of how horny sucking cock makes you.” He said, tugging on your nipple as if he could pull it over to himself.

You nodded as your legs started to shake. “Yes.”

He gave the nipple a little twist, making your jaw fall open. “Yes, what? I’m smarter than you but I’m not a mind reader.”

“Yes, yes, it’s ‘cause having your cock in my mouth turns me on so much.” You said.

His next exhale was almost like a growl as he kept pulling on your nipple. “I wish I had known you were about to say something so depraved, I would have recorded it.” With a purposeful flick of his wrist he could guide the nipple up then down, before repeating the motion. Your tit moved in these waves, creating a different sensation. Your gut twisted in a new way, only helped along by the toy going to full strength again.

“You’re so sexy when you’re absolutely shameless like this.” He said.

You could no longer maintain eye contact with him, squeezing your eyes shut as you clenched your fists. All of this intensity was going straight to your head, but you remembered how he hadn’t yet explicitly said that you could climax.

It was a tiny relief when the toy concluded its strongest burst. But you could still feel that warm pressure in your pussy. You knew you had to accept its presence as you made ragged attempts at catching your breath.

“Is that feeling too good, baby? You are getting very worked up there. It looks like too much more of this could get you off. Is that the case?” He asked.

You made some strangled noises as you squirmed through this state of too much. “Yes. I-I think that I could.”

He stopped pinching your nipple, letting the skin cease its stretching. Less than a second later, he struck his finger against the stiff peak. This made you flinch, almost losing your balance and falling back.

“You really are that easy to get off, aren’t you?” He asked. “Fuck. I don’t even have to be here. I could just leave the vibrator as is and go back to work, I could completely ignore you and you would still come.”

Through gritted teeth, you tried to speak. “Please. Stay here.”

When you managed to pry your eyes open, you saw the satisfied and cocky smile on his face. “But what about my work? I’m depended on to actually do shit around here.”

“Later?” You asked with one shred of hope.

He made a tsk-ing noise, but he didn’t straighten up and leave this tiny space. “Naughty little thing.”

You squeezed your thighs together as the device went to its medium strength. And there was something more powerful only a few seconds away from you, but you were already feeling overwhelmed.

“Are you gonna come?” He asked, his voice almost as teasing as a touch would be.

“Want to.” You replied quietly.

“Yeah, you could come just like this?”

You tilted your pelvis, settling into the way all of your body seemed to be throbbing. Then the strongest mode resumed, taking your breath away from you.

“Are you gonna come?” He asked.

Was it just the rising pleasure painting your perception, or was his tone actually encouraging you on? One thing was certain - he wasn’t telling you to not go into the orgasm.

But before you could ride the pleasure too much higher, he had turned the toy off. Your brain scrambled, so stunned by this sudden lack of vibrations.

“What?” He asked in response to the look that you gave him. “I asked if you could come, I never said that you would, or that you should.”

You settled your body weight again, taking the chance to catch your breath. He hadn’t gone back to his pretend work, allowing you to study his expression. You tried to figure out if he wanted you to bargain with him or not.

“What if I asked you to get up and make me that tea right now?” He asked.

“I would do it, sir.” You said, even though you were feeling a little intimidated.

“Hmm…” He watched you, seemingly making his mind up. Then the vibrations started again. “No, I’m actually not that thirsty right now.”

It wasn’t the same pattern you had just been enjoying. His new approach was to give you all of the power instantly and the threat to your composure was almost devastating.

Somehow you managed to keep yourself together, even as your gut twisted up, tensed like the other muscles in your body. You didn’t let yourself acknowledge how close the edge was, your mental will going into not thinking about what was on the other side of that edge.

“Can you follow a countdown?” He asked.

Your throat was tight as you answered. “Counting down to an orgasm?”

“Uh-huh. I go from ten to zero, when I get to zero… Well, I think you know what to do. Do you think you can do that?”

You rubbed your thighs together, willing that you not get too ahead of yourself. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

You hadn’t realised that you weren’t already experiencing the highest possible vibrations. But he dialled them up and it was almost impossible to contain the whine that came in response.

You waited, the majority of your attention went to listening out for his count. But he didn’t say a word. Your heart jackhammered in your chest, begging you to use some of this energy.

You looked up at him, seeing how perfectly (and maddeningly) relaxed he was. “Sir?”

“Hm?” He played at being oblivious again. “Oh, I thought you would say when you were ready for me to start counting.”

You huffed as you barely kept yourself from cursing at him. “Ready, sir.”

He licked his lips, eyes taking in all of the desperation on your face. “Ten…”

The need pulsed through you, dominating all of your thoughts and drawing you in deeper. The excitement was starting to run the show, tempting you to lose yourself.

“Nine, eight…” He said, seeming to draw the words out. “This had better be one of the quietest orgasms of your life.”

You nodded, your lips clamped together because you didn’t trust yourself right now. If you opened your mouth to speak, there was no guarantee that more wouldn’t come out.

“Seven, six…”

His face was even closer to yours as he continued enjoying you in your current state. You couldn’t hold yourself still, your hips stuttering uselessly as the tension rose to an almost unbearable level.

“Five, four…”

In your head you screamed at him to hurry up, seriously doubting your ability to sustain this. But on the outside you were just a series of continuously muffled moans. Maybe from his perspective, it seemed like you could definitely handle this.

“Three…” He said before pausing, his brow creasing as he pretended to be confused. “Wait, what’s after that?”

“Two.” You murmured.

“Yeah, two.” He agreed.

You began to get excited about how close you were to the finish line. You licked your lips, refreshing the taste of his cum on your tongue.

This taste was swiftly followed by disappointment when the vibrations abruptly ended, the device becoming inactive between your very sensitive walls. It was even harder to not swear at him this time.

You shut your eyes as your terrific climb to the peak was stunted. The frustration was more than you knew how to deal with. It could have defeated you in your overworked state. You were consumed by tremors, forcing your attention to taking deep breaths.

“Oh, did something happen to the battery?” He asked, so obviously making fun of you. “Wow, what ridiculously bad timing…” You weren’t so sure that you had it in you to keep playing along with him, the way that your entire body was crying out for release was rather distracting.

“Should I try one of the buttons? Maybe it was a random glitch. Or maybe the battery is empty.” He said.

“Please. Try it. Try, please.” You whispered.

“Alright.” He said, his word was quickly followed by the return of the vibrations. “Oh, I guess it was a random glitch.”

The intensity floored you and you hated the thought of falling short on its conclusion again.

You were just a pile of nerves as he started counting again, repeating ten. You lightly rocked yourself back-and-forth as you gave up control, hoping it would be traded for what you needed.

You were again robbed of the luxury of falling apart when he turned the vibrations off.

You could have started to produce tears at that point, you were at such a profound-feeling loss. You considered saying the safe word and admitting that the CEO’s teasing was too much because you didn’t think you could deal with it anymore.

“I’m just not totally convinced that you deserve to come…” He said.

You raised your head, deciding to be totally honest with him. You couldn’t stop shivering and your mouth hung open as you kept at the attempts to catch your breath.

“Please.” You said, you didn’t have the mental capacity to dress the request up in any way.

Perhaps it was how pathetic you looked that appealed to him because you weren’t left waiting to feel the vibrations. They were powerful and you wanted to trust them to give you release - but amongst the wonderful sensations, doubts lingered.

“Okay.” He said, his voice softer. “Okay sweetie, I’m… five, four, three…”

You felt the crazy rise of pleasure, it was so spectacular that not getting your hopes up was an impossibility. You writhed, your excitement jumping from one promising sensation to the next as he kept counting.

The vibrations stuck with you as, at long last, everything fell into place, synced to him saying zero. The tension broke and you finally got to claim the release as yours.

It fulfilled you to finally get to the conclusion. Temporarily giving you everything that you needed. You were elevated by the bliss, not needing to know anything else.

On the other side of this, you didn’t find even a fraction of calm. How could you come down like this? There wasn’t anywhere safe to land.

“Pumpkin.” The word left your mouth before you could put any real thought into it.

He sprang into action, the vibrator immediately turned off before he put his hands on your upper arms. “Okay, okay. Come out of there, I've got you.”

He arrived on the floor directly in front of you, kneeling. He reached around you and made quick work of undoing the tie, freeing your wrists. You leaned against him, trying to get your breath back.

“Shh, shh babygirl.” He soothed and you let more of your body go limp, your arms hanging by your sides. “I'm gonna take the toy out now, so just relax. Relax for me.”

You were still reeling as you felt the device being pulled from your sensitive pussy. You were ready for everything to stop, you knew there was nothing more that you could give.

“I'm sorry.” You said.

“Hey, sorry for what?” He asked. “The scene was over, anyway. You didn't cut anything short, it was all done.” He wrapped his arms around you, giving you a secure embrace. “You have nothing to be sorry for.

“Come sit in the chair with me.” He said.

He helped you up then he sat down on the chair, offering you his lap. You sat down, your back resting against him. He linked his arms around your middle as you began taking deeper, slower breaths, calm returning to you. You had stopped noticing the rate at which your heart was beating.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

You leaned your head against his shoulder. “Yep, I am now. I just…”

“That was a lot, and you did a great job, babe.”

You shut your eyes, even though you knew you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep in this upright position. But it was comfortable, your legs overlapping his and all of the pressure taken from your body. Listening to his steady breathing soothed you even further.

Before you could have any kind of reaction to the current temperature, he was lying the warm suit jacket over your body, a stand-in for a blanket.

His nose rested against your temple as he started to talk. “You are not stupid. You are not useless. You are not annoying.” You just listened, the corners of your mouth lifting into a smile. “You’re a good girl, a very good girl. Such a good girl. You are so intelligent and strong and capable. You’re exceptional, you know that, don’t you?”

“Thank you, Daddy.” You said, feeling so secure in his arms. “Were you actually typing something into that doc’, or were you just hitting random keys?”

“I was on Airbnb, I wanted to see what our options are for Christmas.” He said.

He wiggled the mouse and the screen re-illuminated, you looked at it with him. Christmas was going to be spent with his family this year. You were to have a little vacation in Trapani, renting a house that everyone could stay in, maximising bonding time. It had been worked into everyone’s schedule, but the house hadn’t been decided on yet.

“We don’t have to look through them right now, we can wait ‘til you’re more rested.” He said. “Do you wanna go to bed?”

“Please, that’s all I want to do.” You said.

“Do you need me to get you anything from the kitchen?” He asked as you got to your feet.

“No. But I think I left my phone in the lounge room.” You said.

He stood up and tucked his dick back into his pants, zipping them shut. “I’ll get it for you, you lay down.”

Unaccompanied, you went into the bedroom, visiting the ensuite instantly. You washed your face and cleaned what remained of his mess off of your neck. You swirled some water around the inside of your mouth then climbed into bed, your body feeling a bit tender.

“Alright, I’ve got your phone, my phone. I shut down your computer and turned off the lights and everything out there.” He announced as he came into the bedroom. “Before I sit down- is there anything that I forgot?”

“No, you took care of literally everything. Thank you, Dami.”

He came over and gave you a kiss on the forehead. He plopped down on his side of the bed and started to take off his suit, in a very inelegant fashion. “I don’t see your menu.”

“I don’t need it, I already know what I want for aftercare.” You said.

“What’s that?”

“Can we get dessert delivered?” You asked.

He tucked his legs under the covers and began to lay back. “Genius, fuck yes we can. Did you have a particular shop in mind?”

You leaned into his side as he unlocked his phone. Together you found the best option amongst the restaurants that were still open at this hour. Through the UberEats app you each selected items.

Once the order was processed, he wrapped an arm around you, he no longer had any distractions from you. “I love you, pet.”

“I love you too.” You said as he kissed you on the cheek. “You helped me so much, like that bad mood is completely vanquished.”

“Really, there’s no traces left?” He asked.

You sat up a little straighter so you could meet his eyes. “Yep, no traces left.” You picked up his hand, interlacing your fingers with his as you shared a smile. “You’re amazing.”

“Anytime, it’s my pleasure.” He said before giving you a soft kiss.

»»————-　♡　————-««  

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NOTE 7/23: The actual first chapter of this fic is now significantly different! Just keeping this post here for archive purposes, I suppose 😂

NOTE 8/13: The first chapter is now up!

I had this thought about Ten and Martha traveling back to Venice in the 1700s.

Naturally, they wind up separated during the trip — which is how Martha eventually finds herself in the company of a charming, if hauntingly familiar stranger…

One who can’t seem to keep his eyes off of her.

Ten x Martha | Martha x Casanova

✨WIP snip from ch.1✨

In May of 1758, the many streets of Venice are packed for the annual Feast of the Ascension —but a day filled with food and laughter is cut short when Martha loses sight of the Doctor in the crowds.

By the time she’s finally able to break free and locate the missing Time Lord, she’s stunned to see him being tugged into a carriage by a beautiful young woman… A carriage that swiftly disappears down the road and out of sight.

Alone, hurting, and more than a little cross, Martha suddenly realizes that she’s stranded in an unfamiliar city… over two hundred years in the past. Bloody brilliant.

She can’t even remember where they parked the TARDIS at this point — not with the endless narrow alleyways and labyrinthine streets.

It’s a modest blessing, but she takes some comfort in knowing she’s at least dressed appropriately for the times, straightening her elaborate wig as she begins walking in the carriage’s general direction.

As time passes, the sun tucks itself away beneath the edge of the horizon, and the crowds finally begin to dissipate. Without the excess noise and foot traffic, Martha has more room to process the events of the evening, sort-of-searching for the long-lost carriage (but mostly brooding) as she puts increasing wear on her shoes.

After some time, the sound of music and laughter drifts into her ears, catching her attention to pull her from the darkness of her thoughts. She allows herself to be drawn towards it without hesitation, and not three minutes later, she’s standing at the edge of a ballroom in the Palazzo Pisani Moretta.

Partying shouldn’t be top of mind, of course — but after a full day of celebrating throughout the city, she can’t imagine putting any more stress on her aching feet. The poor extremities scream for reprieve in the wedge sandals that hide beneath her skirt, scolding her for not putting more thought into her choice of footwear.

To be fair, the move to enter the building isn’t entirely void of strategy. After all, the Doctor could be in here. Seems like just the sort of place his little date might like to mingle, she thinks with a healthy roll of her eyes.

To say the Palazzo is extravagant is putting it mildly. In addition to what may well be a few hundred elite guests in attendance, the spacious hall is adorned from floor to ceiling with finery, the glowing chandeliers illuminating marble statues and countless works of art. Servers in masquerade weave through the crowd with practiced ease, trays of nibbles and beverages balancing on splayed fingertips.

Feeling inspired, Martha snags a cup of wine as soon as she’s close enough to reach for one, downing half of the bitter, eighteenth-century swill with as much haste as her twenty-first-century taste buds will allow. She forces a smile through her grimace when the server looks to her for approval, still concerned with cordiality [even as she crashes a party wherein she knows no one at all].

Partygoers welcome her readily: happy socialites with hair as big and dramatic as the wig she’s been regretting picking out all day. The compliments they lavish her with almost make it feel worth the hassle, however, and in that moment, she’s grateful that the Doctor let her raid the wardrobe. It feels so much easier to exist in a time period without standing out — at least, more than she already feels she does as a black woman.

(The Time Lord really can be thick, can’t he?)

Over and onward, Martha decides to let loose as much as she can, keeping a wary eye out between little sips of murky, purple wet. It’s been at least three hours since she last saw her mate, and though the environment that surrounds her is intoxicating, she can’t deny the little pinpricks of worry that emerge in her gut.

Surely he wouldn’t just sod off for a shag... would he? Leave her all alone without a word?

Is that really something the Doctor is capable of after everything they’ve been through?

An image of his disappearance flitters across her mind’s eye: a flash of a woman’s smiling face as she drags him into her fancy carriage by the lapels, her giggles resounding off the stone walls as they slip away together.

Another image nips at the heels of the former, only this time, it’s the Doctor’s stony expression as he returns from across the field in Farringham, having just had a proposition rejected by Nurse Redfern. The same proposition he made the morning after finding out how his companion truly felt for him, easily filing that information away as a “non-issue.”

Alright, so maybe he can be a bit of a tosser. Great. Maybe he has no interest in being found just yet, being fully aware that Martha can handle her own.

Everything’s always on his terms, anyway.

Furthermore, and she hates to even think it in the first place, but: who’s to say he didn’t think slipping out unannounced was the only way to get away from her for the night?

Blimey. If that’s the way he really thinks of her...

No. No, no, no — those thoughts aren't helpful for anyone. Not right now.

Worst case scenario, Martha will find a kind local to seek shelter with before night’s end, though she prays it doesn’t come to that. The idea of even thinking about sleeping knowing the Doctor is just out there somewhere makes her stomach churn — even if he has got… friendly company.

Sigh.

Time for more wine, she reckons; her eyes flick about the crowd until she spots the closest server, and then she attempts to head in her direction.

While en route, a portly man in technicolor robes requests a dance, which she turns down as politely as possible. Then another guest — a dark-haired noblewoman about forty-five years old — stumbles on the mosaic when her heels catch the train of another woman’s dress, and Martha helps her to her feet.

All the servers carting wine around only seem to be getting further away, and it feels like a sign. Perhaps she shouldn’t be consuming any more alcohol — at least, not until she has a little more peace of mind.

To her surprise, she doesn’t have to wait long at all.

Through a sea of bobbing heads, swaying bodies shrouded in brightly-colored fabrics, and a thin haze of incense smoke, their eyes lock from across the room — and Martha briefly foregoes the right to oxygen.

She knows she should be relieved (or perhaps furious — definitely furious), but as her throat grows tight and dry, all she’s got the presence of mind to feel is the frantic fluttering of her heartbeat as blood roars in her ears.

The Doctor has never looked at her like that.

Temporarily immobile, she can only watch as he approaches her with deliberate, single-minded steps, the dance floor seeming to part naturally around him. He doesn’t falter or pause and he doesn’t need to; this man claims a route that no one capable of sight would dare interfere.

Somehow, in the last few hours, he’s wound up in a loose red tunic, tight black trousers — tights, essentially — and matching black boots. A black, silken band wraps around his neck, purely decorative, bringing the black from the rest of the outfit together to complete the look.

It’s an entirely different getup than the one she helped him pick out this morning, but let it be known that it’s no less gorgeous for it. Even his hair is different than she’s ever seen it, appearing softer and lighter with significantly less product than usual (if any at all), and he looks…

Bloody hell, he looks incredible.

When he arrives, he gets quite close — closer than Martha’s body and mind are anywhere near recovered enough to be prepared for — and she has just enough time to notice the color of his eyes when he takes her hand.

Are his eyes... blue?

The smile he fixes her with is slow and certain; it simmers just as the gaze he ensnares her with. He seems to reach right into her soul’s lowered defenses to bury himself at the thick of it, lifting her hand to his mouth to rest his gentle lips against her skin.

The touch is just jarring enough to wrench Martha out from the clouds as the realization hits her.

This man is not the Doctor.

“I hope you’ll forgive me,” he murmurs, his voice and cadence eerily identical to the one she knows. “If I'm honest, I just couldn’t resist your magnetism for another moment longer.”

His words, though softly spoken, seem louder than anyone or anything else in the room, effectively shutting the rest of the world out.

"Erm," Martha chokes, eyes wide. Stunned. "I-I, er..." She shakes her head slowly, her voice (and brain) temporarily evading her. It feels as though she's fallen through a crack in dimensions. Perhaps she has.

“Right — sorry," the man chuckles. "Bit rude of me. My name's Giac." He finally lowers her hand between them, flashing a wink, giving her fingers the softest of squeezes before letting them slip through his. "Though I must admit... I am far more eager to learn yours.”

Note: This is a post-Blink story in which Martha is seduced by Giacomo, inspiring clarity and an almost possessive jealousy within the Doctor. How ever will he handle it? I’ve also considered an eventual threesome, but should that happen, it will be strictly het Martha-worship. (Also, per the David Tennant miniseries, Giac is pronounced “Jack”)

[passionwillow]

I never was keen on writing poly smut but ever since that very first LucaxDeaconxReader smut.. Damn 😩 I love it.

[elenthyaolyenths]

Well, something happened. So, change of plans for this weekend. Back to home and art.... :-)

I still stop the Daily Challenges for a while, but... Who knows. Maybe I can bring to you some great little things instead.

Smut War still running. Stay tuned.

[callmechito]

I miss this fandom. And I miss the fanfic writers. I wish their was more x reader fanfic writers on here bc like (imma be horny on main here for a second-)

I WANNA DOM AND COCKWARM THIS MAN OKAY.

Like oh my god?? I’m 100% a sub and a bottom but like for David? Omg I’d top and dom this man like it was my favourite thing in the world!!

I can imagine him with his arms wrapped around his s/o, face buried in their shoulder as he sweats and tries to keep himself under control until his s/o starts moving.

I wrote a dating head canons thing back in like I think late 2021 and honestly I might just start doing those again cuz BRUH. I need new and MORE content 😭😭😭

[groupiewhoreee]

Please Dave mustaine smut again

I love these

hi! of course. i love writing for dave, hes just OOOH MY GAWD, anyway thnx for ur req!

Use Your Words, Baby

Warnings: Smut, kinky things. You know the drill. (Minors Dni! 18+ people only. I know, can't force ya, but its heavily recommended you don't read/leave! Thnx!)

Summary/Plot: In Request by an lovely anon.

-------------------------------------

Dave's cold, slender fingers rummaged thru your body, exploring every inch of ur exposed flesh to him. He left purple, love bites aligned alongside the crook of your neck. His hands landed upside to your neck. He choked you, his fingertips leaving bruises behind. "So perfect," Dave muttered underneath his breath, looking at you with lust filled eyes. He moved his hands to your exposed breasts. He groped them, teasing your nipples. You let out a few squeals of pleasure and mixed excitement, also mixed with careless moans. Dave loved hearing you moan and squeal, The bulge in his pants couldn't say less. He again, moved his hands to ur clit. He rubbed in circles, teasing you.

"Dave," You breathed out, ur breath hitched and uncontrollable. He leaned over, kissing the sweetness of ur lips. He shared saliva with you, his tongue slipped into ur mouth. He explored, dancing with your tongue delightfully. You whimpered into the kiss.

"Davey, please." You whined.

"Please what? Use your words, baby." He smirked.

"Please fuck me already! I need you in me." You cried out.

"As you wish," He had a sly smile across his lips. He took his pants off, his boxers falling with. He grabbed your hips, his rock hard dick positioning at your entrance. He slowly pushed into you, going at a reasonable speed. He got faster, rocking his hips with yours. He deeply buried himself into you. He leaned down to kiss ur lips once more. "So t-tight," He stammered, groaning. He adjusted himself, whilst he stretched you out. Your walls ached internally, your heat feeling bruised inside. He couldn't help but kiss ur jaw, leaving a trail of saliva down ur chin.

Cum poured out of you. You felt full. You breathed heavily while dave came onto your stomach. He panted, putting his clothes on. He helped you of course, now laying in bed with you. "I love you." He said. "I love you too," You smiled. Dave kissed ur cheek, spooning you. His arms wrapped around you.

[sad-chaos-goblin]

Can we pls have Crowley wearing a kilt for whatever reason in S3?

[notalostcausejustyet]

Heeeeeey. How about some suggestive poetry?

[tsyvia48]

“Time for me to put down the smut and pick up the apocrypha.”

is a totally normal thing for a Good Omens fan to say.

(Initially accidentally typed “good onens” which also feels appropriate?)