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daydreamtofiction · 3 months

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Thou Shalt Not Covet // 10: Baptism

Contents | Part 9 | First Person Version [AO3]

Summary: (Priest!Benedict x Female Reader) The morning after stirs up a new Ellis, one who returns home with a newfound fire.

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: Strong language, irreverence, dark humour, religious imagery, sexual references, scenes of verbal & physical conflict. Readers must be 18+

"Shit."

You stirred slowly at the sound of Father Benedict's voice, his weight disappearing from beside you, making the mattress bounce and the bed frame creak.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit shit." The words left him in a panicked hiss, each utterance catching between his teeth.

You opened one eye, vision fuzzy in the dull morning light, too tired to make sense of what was happening. Why was he swearing? Had he already begun to regret what you'd done?

He hurried across the bedroom in a blur of bare skin and frantic whispers, hopping and stumbling into a pair of underpants as he made his way towards the window.

"What's wrong?" you croaked, watching as he craned around the curtain, peering down towards the ground outside.

A knock at the front door answered your question. He ducked down quickly, adjusting himself in his pants as he slowly rose back up again. Another knock.

"Fuck," he whispered. "Shit, fuck-"

"Father?" a distant voice called out. "Father, are you in there?"

"Is that June?" you asked quietly, eyes widening as you sat up and clutched the duvet to your bare chest, as though the sound of her voice alone was enough to make you feel indecent.

He groaned despairingly into his hands as she knocked again, calling out to him with concern through the letterbox.

"What's going on?" you whispered. "Why is she here?"

"Because I- shitting hell," he hissed. "I overslept."

"For what?"

"Morning bloody prayer. I can't believe I-" He stopped, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before unlatching the window and pushing it open. "June! June, up here," he shouted, waving down at her with an apologetic smile. "I am... so sorry, I- I wasn't feeling well last night and I've slept in."

"You slept in?" she replied. Her voice was faint, the wind carrying most of it away. "But I've already opened the church doors-"

"No, no that's fine. Really, I just have to get dressed and then I'll be there."

"Well people've already started arriving. What do I do in the meantime?"

"Tell her to try out some of her standup material," you muttered from the bed.

He choked back a laugh and swatted his hand at you, like a silent telling off. "Just-" He cleared his throat, taking a moment to straighten his face. "Just tell them I'm running late but shouldn't be more than a few minutes."

You weren't sure if she said anything else after that - the woman tended to mumble at the best of times - but the sound of her footsteps fading over the gravel driveway made it clear she was retreating.

Father Benedict shut the window and turned around, blowing out a puff of air as he leaned back against the wall. "I can't believe I overslept."

"You were up late, to be fair," you replied.

He allowed his eyes to wander, just for a moment, over the messy bed, your bare thigh peeking through a gap in the duvet. "Still," he began, shaking it away and rushing to the wardrobe. "I have a responsibility to my congregation, I can't just... not show up, it's..."

You sat quietly as he rummaged through his clothes, hanger hooks screeching as he moved them back and forth along the rail. He pulled out a shirt and shrugged it on, turning towards you as he buttoned it up.

"This isn't how I'd ideally have liked this morning to go. But I shouldn't be gone for more than a couple of hours," he said. "I lead prayer, then afterwards I host a small social meet for some elderly members, but it won't take long."

Your back straightened slightly. "Y-you... want me to stay here while you're gone?"

"Yeah," he replied casually as he grabbed a pair of trousers and stepped into them. "Unless- Do you have to be somewhere?"

"No- well, not until later."

"Okay. Just... help yourself to something to eat, preferably stay away from the windows-"

You giggled.

"And I'll drive you home when I get back."

"You really don't have to-"

"I want to."

You conceded, nodding softly and settling back against the headboard.

He pulled open a drawer and grabbed a pair of socks before hooking his fingers into his shoes and making his way towards the door. "Okay, back soon."

"You might want to fix your hair," you called out.

He stopped, turning back to look at you as he ran a hand through the wild locks. "Better?"

"It'll do."

You sat on the back doorstep of the rectory, warming your hands on a mug of tea as you watched your dress blowing on the washing line. Last night's storm had given way to a mild morning, but the wind still had a bite, making the dress flutter and dance in the air, the bright yellow fabric billowing like a flag at full mast. You never drank tea; why you'd chosen to make some now was a mystery. It just felt right, the kind of thing a normal person would do whilst they sat waiting for clothes to dry.

The garden was quaint and secluded, a boarder of thick bushes and tall trees beyond the mossy stone walls, enclosing the small pocket of green in total privacy. You sipped your tea as birds chirped and bounced from tree to tree, the smell of the toast you'd made still drifting out from the kitchen.

Maybe this kind of life wouldn't be so bad, you thought. You were sure you could learn to like tea, hang washing on the line every morning, make breakfast as birds sang beyond the garden wall. You could bake cakes for parish fundraisers, have a bunch of kids and give them 'sensible' names like Jacob or Charlotte, take them to mass every weekend, say grace around the dinner table. Maybe it wouldn't matter that you didn't actually believe in any of it, because once the church doors closed and the kids went to bed, it'd be just the two of you. And he already knew, but he wanted you anyway.

"God, Ellis, get a grip," you muttered. "One night together and suddenly you're the pastor's wife."

You rose to your feet, pausing on the doorstep to gaze up at a blanket of soft grey clouds rolling in overhead. It was going to rain again, you thought. You made your way back into the kitchen and tipped the last of the tea down the drain, swilling the mug with water and drying it with a tea towel. It was nice to see an empty sink; no plates covered in dried food, no wet, grimy sponges or wine glasses rimmed with Gina's lipstick.

Gina.

Your stomach turned at the thought of her; how she was probably at home right now waiting for you to come back, or maybe she didn't even care that you were gone. Could you even call that place home anymore? Home was supposed to be a sanctuary; a place of warmth, comfort, safety. Yet all that house seemed to be was a collection of closed doors, strangers with familiar faces and rooms you never spent time in.

The sound of the front door latch made you still, a click followed by a creak, footsteps moving through the house towards you. For a moment you worried it may not be him, how you would explain why you were there, alone, wearing clothes that didn't belong to you. But the fear was fleeting, quelling instantly when a deep, rich voice chimed from the living room.

"Ellis? Are you still here?"

"Yeah, I'm in here," you replied.

He stepped halfway through the door with a smile; the same smile you'd come to look forward to whenever you arrived at church. It was charming, gracious, every inch of his face brightening the moment he laid eyes on you. You smiled back, though you weren't sure you could ever produce an expression as naturally warm as his.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi."

"Look what I found." He moved further into the kitchen, revealing a small leather handbag dangling by its strap over his index finger.

He handed it to you with a smile and you thanked him in a relieved sigh, making your way to the kitchen table and unzipping it with haste. He pulled out the chair beside you and sat down too, stealing a piece of half-eaten toast from the plate you'd left on the table and munching on it quietly as he watched you.

You took out your phone, tapping your thumbs with futility against the shiny black screen. "Dead," you said. "Thought as much."

"I think I have a charger somewhere if-"

"Nah it's okay. Haven't paid my phone bill so it makes no difference anyway."

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he swept the crumbs off his hands. "Do you want to use my phone?"

"You have a phone?"

"Why wouldn't I have a phone?"

"I don't know, just hard to imagine a priest... texting."

"I text."

You couldn't help the amusement creeping across your face, the thought of his name popping up on your screen; what would you save him as? Ben? Father Benedict? Perhaps just Father would suffice. Daddy?- No, Ellis.

"Do you think priests take vows to live like it's the 1800's or something?" he asked.

You shrugged. "I just assumed if you needed to use a phone you'd have one of those old rotary ones or something."

"Oh my god." He laughed, too amused to notice the blasphemous slip.

You slid the phone back into your bag and dragged the zip closed slowly, watching each metal tooth knit together with far more focus than the task required.

He stopped laughing and cocked his head, eyes darting over your face. "Are you alright?"

"Hm?"

"You. Are you okay?"

You remained quiet for a moment, chewing the inside of your cheek in thought. "Y'know I've never liked that question. It's too broad, don't you think? Makes my brain feel all jumbled."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, okay in what sense? Physically? Mentally? Right this minute or in life in general?" You relaxed slightly into the back of your chair. "Sometimes, people don't even actually want to know how you are at all, they're just saying it instead of 'hello'..."

A smile curled slightly at one side of his mouth. "Well I actually want to know how you are."

"In which way?"

"Let's go with all of them. How are you? In every iteration."

"Hm. Well, physically, I'm tired, a little sore, my foot is killing me. But emotionally I feel... weirdly calm; like last night changed something in me. But I'm not necessarily sure that's a bad thing."

"You feel different?"

"Yeah. Don't you?"

He let his head fall slightly to one side, his gaze turning distant, just for a moment. "No." He shook his head, focusing his attention back on you. "Honestly, I thought I would. I went to sleep last night convinced I'd wake up full of regret and shame and- no offence-"

"Mm," you replied sarcastically.

"But I didn't. I still felt... like me. Like nothing's changed."

"Even after all that sinning you did?" you joked. "You sinned a lot, father."

He dropped his head to hide a smirk. "Hey, what happens in the rectory stays in the rectory."

Your shoulders shook with a chuckle, making him smile.

"I like it when you laugh," he said softly. "You don't do it enough."

You glanced across at him; at those sea foam eyes, so striking against the tired red of their waterlines.

"I have a stupid laugh," you replied quietly.

He smiled, shifting in his seat to move himself closer, his body leaning in slowly towards you. "You have a lovely laugh."

It was strange, how even after a night like last night - after growing so familiar with the intricacies of his body and submitting yours so willingly to him - the sight of his face edging closer, lips parting gently in anticipation, was still so butterfly-inducing.

You'd resigned yourself to the idea that you'd never get to kiss him again, that when the sun rose that morning, all of the intimacy you'd shared would be washed away with last night's storm. Yet here you were, gazing at him through heavy lashes, your focus rolling slowly back and forth between his eyes and mouth as you sat perfectly still, letting him come to you. Closer and closer until you couldn't see anything but him, couldn't hear anything besides your own heartbeat, the gentle pattering of rain against the kitchen window.

Rain.

"Oh, shit!" You jumped up quickly and bolted to the back door, throwing it open and hurrying over the grass towards the washing line.

You were back in the dress, although you weren't sure it resembled sunshine much anymore. There were patches that hadn't fully dried, smudges of dirt from holding your shoes in your lap, and a small bloodstain on the skirt. Yesterday, you'd felt pretty when you put it on. Today, you hadn't even dared glance at your own reflection.

Father Benedict turned the heat up in the car, sliding the vents to point the warm air in your direction. You were thankful for it, relaxing back into the seat and staring out the window as he drove, slowing for a red light almost as soon as he pulled out of the church grounds.

"So where are you going to say you were last night?" he asked.

You could tell the question had been itching to get out, dancing on his tongue until he finally found the right moment to let it spill.

"I haven't thought about it," you replied. "Suppose it's none of their business where I was."

"What if anyone else asks?"

You narrowed your eyes at him, sensing there was a specific answer he wanted to hear, one that would free the tension he'd been holding in his shoulders since he'd got behind the wheel.

"I'm not going to tell anyone what happened, Father," you finally replied, trying your best to make your voice sound soft, reassuring, trustworthy.

He glanced over at you for a second before fixing his gaze back on the road, the light finally turning green again.

"Thank you," he said. "I mean, it's not that I- I'm not saying I want to pretend this never happened or anything. I just..."

"Want to pretend this never happened."

He laughed gently through his nose. "No. I just need to figure out the best way to navigate through-"

"Navigate," you groaned teasingly. "God, you sound like an internet life coach."

He rolled his eyes. "Navigate is a perfectly normal word."

"It's a fluffer. You're fluffing up the point you're trying to make."

He looked at you again, longer this time. "Alright. I don't want to give up my priesthood."

"I know. I never expected you would."

"It's who I am. My faith, it's... such an integral part of me. And that's not me saying last night wasn't also me. I just... You've thrown some things into question, made me act in ways that definitely wouldn't go down well if the church found out."

"I made you?"

He smirked. "Mhm, all your fault."

You turned back to the window, biting your lip to suppress a smile. "At least you won't have to deal with me hanging around the church anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"Well I admitted I lied. I'm just a big fat nonbeliever. No reason for me to attend services anymore."

He paused in thought, steering the car smoothly with his large, agile hands. The movement made you shiver; the sight of his fingers curling around the wheel, the protruding knuckles and prominent veins, even more attractive now you knew what it felt like to have them on you.

"So does that mean you won't be coming to help out on Thursday?" he asked, entirely oblivious to your ogling.

"Thursday?"

"The communion session."

You closed your eyes, letting out a long, exasperated exhale. "Shit," you whispered. "I forgot about that."

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," he said. "I can make do-"

"No, no, I offered to help out."

With every traffic light, every turn of a corner and familiar street, you felt the tension turning your limbs to stone. Nerves flooded your stomach at the thought of walking back into that house, confronting the people you somehow wanted to slap and thank at the same time.

Father Benedict bumped the kerb gently, rolling to a stop beside the front gate. He pulled the handbrake, the car plummeting into silence as he switched off the engine, the only sound coming from your deep intake of breath, the sigh that left you as you turned your head to face him.

You took a moment to look at him, to let your eyes skim over every line and curve of his face. You would see him again, of course you would, but not like this.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" he asked.

You nodded, allowing a quick smile before grabbing your bag and the straps of your shoes.

"Ellis..."

You glanced back up to find him staring straight ahead through the windshield, head tipped back slightly against the headrest.

"I meant what I said last night." He didn't look at you. "You shouldn't let anyone who isn't worthy go near you again."

It made everything feel more real, somehow, hearing those words repeated without the cloud of heat and lust surrounding you.

"Promise me," he said, finally making eye contact.

"I promise." The words left you in an awkward stammer, mouth moving before your brain had a chance to catch up.

You undid your seatbelt and reached for the door handle, the hinges groaning and grinding as you pushed your elbow against the door, always forgetting how stiff it was until you found yourself fighting to open it.

You leaned all of your weight into it, but it didn't budge. "It's jammed," you said. "Like actually jammed this time."

He sighed and unclipped his seatbelt. "Honestly, this piece of shit car," he mumbled as he leaned over to help.

His body was stretched across yours, so close you could see the muscles straining in his neck, feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. You pressed your back into the seat to give him more room, watching his throat bob with a hard swallow as he pushed on the door, finally getting it to open.

"There we are," he groaned.

"Thanks," you said softly.

He looked at you, still leant over your body, eyes falling to your chest as it rose and fell with slow, heavy breaths. And when his gaze snapped back up to meet yours, there was an entirely different expression on his face.

"Alfie!" Gina's voice screeched in the distance, turning the heat between you ice cold.

You turned to see her on the front doorstep of the house, her panic and anger clear despite the distance between you.

"Alfie! It's Ellis, she's back!"

You sighed and climbed out of the car, closing the door behind you with your hip.

"Where the fuck have you been!?"

You didn't answer her, walking barefoot over the pavement towards the gate, barely getting it open before Alfie appeared at her side. He pushed past her, steam practically rising from the top of his head as he came bounding down the path towards you.

"What the fuck are you playing at, Ellis!?" he shouted.

You'd never seen him like this before, so aggressive in his movements, clenched teeth and balled fists, the fury palpable beneath his skin.

"Just disappearing like that!? Not answering your phone all night!? Do you know how fucking worried we've been!? We were this close to calling the fucking police!-"

He stopped a few feet away from you, his focus shifting to the tall figure emerging from the car. His brow furrowed, eyes narrowing as he watched Father Benedict approaching.

"Don't I know you...?" he muttered in confusion.

"It's the vicar," Gina called out, hurrying down the path.

"Priest," you corrected bluntly.

"Really, Ellis?" Alfie snarled. "Is this a fucking joke!? I've been up all night with no idea where you were, and you've been with him!?"

He marched angrily towards you, stopping suddenly when Father Benedict stepped in the way.

"Whoa there," your priest said calmly, voice so deep it was almost inaudible.

Alfie took a breath, back straightening as he glared at the man in front of him. "What? You think I was going to hit her?" He sneered in genuine offence. "What kind of man do you think I am?"

"Probably best I don't answer that question," Father Benedict quipped.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Let's just calm down and go inside," said Gina, grabbing Alfie by the sleeve of his shirt.

He shrugged her off. "No. I want to know who the fuck this guy thinks he is."

"He's the guy who let me sleep on his couch when I said I didn't want to come home," you said. "Because I caught my boyfriend fucking my best friend, in case you'd forgot that part."

"Oh of course you're piping up now you've got this dick head sticking up for you."

Father Benedict smiled, which only seemed to irritate him more.

"What's a priest doing getting all pally with some random woman who doesn't even believe in God anyway? It's fucking creepy, you're a fucking creep." He pointed his finger in his face, spitting the words at him.

"Put the finger down," he said calmly.

"What? This?" He began pushing it hard into his chest, poking and prodding him roughly.

"Oh Alfie, grow up," you said.

"I understand you've been worried about her," said Father Benedict, gripping him firmly by the wrist to stop the childish assault. "But taking your anger out on me isn't going to solve anything. I was just dropping her home."

"Do you want a medal?" He snatched his hand away. "Want me to thank you for harbouring her in your house while I worried sick all night?"

You couldn't help but scoff. "I wouldn't have left in the first place if you hadn't been sleeping with-"

"You shut-"

It all happened so fast you barely had time to react; Alfie turning towards you, pointing in your face as he took another quick, belligerent step forward. Father Benedict intercepting with a swift swing of his arm, his fist cracking against the side of his face and knocking him to the ground.

You took a sharp breath, somewhere between a gasp and a choke, watching as Gina dropped to her knees at Alfie's side with a panicked yell. Father Benedict sucked in the air through his teeth, hissing as he shook his hand, a pained expression scrunching his nose.

"Oh my god," you breathed, grabbing him by the upper arms and pulling him back, dragging him over to the car.

"Fuck sake," he whispered, opening and closing his fist.

"I can't believe you just did that."

"I'm so sorry, I just- I thought he was going to-"

"What the fuck!?" Gina shouted. "Aren't you supposed to be a fucking pacifist or some shit!?"

Alfie groaned, pushing her hands away as she tried to examine his face.

"Just go inside, Gina, Jesus Christ!" you shouted.

You took his hand in yours and he let you hold it for a moment, looking over the grazes on his knuckles in stunned silence. "It's okay, I'm alright," he said, gently pulling away and shaking it out again.

"You prick," Alfie spat as he clambered to his feet.

You sighed, nodding towards the car. "You should go."

He hesitated, eyes darting between his hand and the face he'd just pummelled with it.

"I'll be fine," you insisted. "Honestly. He's a dick but he wouldn't hurt me."

"Forgive me for finding that hard to believe."

"He wouldn't, I swear. I just want to go upstairs, get a shower, get my stuff together. I'll be alright."

There was a deep, reluctant rumble in his throat before he finally gave in, turning to make his way to the driver's side door. You exhaled a shaking breath, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched him get in, trying to ignore the chaos still erupting behind you.

He got in the car and shut the door, concern etched between his brows as he looked at you through the passenger window. You gave a reassuring smile and waved him off, stepping back through the gate.

"Wait, Ellis," he called as he rolled down the window and leaned over. "Here."

You walked closer, plucking a small piece of paper from his outstretched fingers.

"If you need me," he said simply.

You looked down at the paper as the car rolled away, a mobile number scribbled hastily across it, 'I text' written below. You laughed to yourself and closed your fist around it, turning on your sore, bare heels and making your way up the path towards the house.

You'd made it halfway upstairs when you heard the front door slam behind you, the sound of footsteps hurrying after you.

"Wait, Ellis," Gina barked. "Do you not think we need to talk!?"

You spun around, looking down at her as she followed you. "No, I don't."

"I'm pressing charges on him," said Alfie.

"He was protecting me," you replied angrily. "He thought you were about to hit me."

"Look, I don't care about what happened out there," said Gina.

"I fucking do," Alfie mumbled.

"We need to talk about yesterday."

You rolled your eyes and continued up the stairs. "You mean when I walked in on you screwing my boyfriend?"

"Ellis-"

"How long? Actually, y'know what? I don't care. You're welcome to him. I was done anyway."

"What?" Alfie shouted, jogging up to catch you.

You walked down the landing to your bedroom, turning just before you reached the door. "I was done. With us."

He pushed past Gina, making his way towards you. There was a bright red mark on the side of his face, a cut on his lip and blood smeared around his nostril. You almost felt bad for him, but then he spoke.

"You are fucking him, aren't you!"

You sighed, opening the door and stepping into your room. "What are you-"

"The priest! That's where you were last night, that's why he just punched me in the face like some fucking yob in a nightclub-"

"Anything to make yourself feel better about what you did, Alfie."

You slid open a drawer and pulled out a towel, wedging it under your arm as you fished for some clean clothes.

"You're not denying it," he said from the doorway.

"I have denied it, you just don't want to listen."

"Bullshit. You've been acting different ever since you started going to that church. I knew there had to be a reason for it. It's not normal, Ellis! And I don't buy for one second you've just made innocent pals with that guy. It's- It's weird! Leaving me here so you can go and spend time with that-"

"Do you know what, fine. Yeah, I slept with him," you began, walking towards him. "And do you know something else? He was better, and bigger, and more skilled than you could ever hope to be."

He swallowed, his face hard and unamused, eyes scanning your face in an attempt to figure out if you were lying or not.

You came face-to-face with him, leaning in to speak slowly and quietly. "He made me come so hard he had to cover my mouth just to keep me quiet."

You elbowed past him, leaving him speechless behind you.

"Ellis," said Gina, standing in the way of the bathroom. "I just want to talk-"

"I don't have anything to say," you interrupted bluntly. "Our entire friendship has just been you keeping me around to make yourself feel better. Patronising me, infantilising me, making me feel so wildly uncomfortable about who I am. You've made it very clear you can have any man you want, yet you decided to fuck mine. All because I stood up to you at the christening, made you feel stupid for half a fucking second."

She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "It's not like that."

You stepped around her, pushing into the bathroom.

"I think I actually have feelings for him, Ellis."

"Of course you do. And you know what? Congratulations. I'm glad it's you he'll be flailing about on top of instead of me."

Her jaw sharpened, teeth grinding behind pursed lips. "Y'know... I think you should probably look for somewhere else to live..."

You gave a dry laugh. "Shags my boyfriend then kicks me out. Classic Gina."

You slammed the door and locked it, letting your forehead rest against the wood for a moment as you caught your breath. That was so unlike you. All of it. The harshness, the sarcasm, the honesty. It felt good. So why were you trembling?

You stripped off your dress and sat on the edge of the bath, gently peeling away the dressing from the sole of your foot. It didn't look as bad as it felt, the dried blood covering a small slice, the skin around it darkening with a bruise.

You turned on the shower, holding your hand beneath the water until it warmed up, watching the stream run off the tips of your fingers like ribbons. This water was going to cleanse you; wash away the dirt and sweat and rain, the anger, the shame. You were going to scrub it all away and step out anew.

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little-diable · 10 months

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Lucky Shirt - Prof!Benedict Cumberbatch (smut)

I got the chance to work with @writingliv once again – yes, I am very much fangirling, y'all know how much I adore Liv – and boy, I am so proud of us and of this beautiful fic we've written together. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Professor Cumberbatch was perfect. He was sweet, supportive, ever-willing to help. He was attentive and loved to praise your achievements. It came to no surprise that you had ended up trying and succeeding at becoming his favourite student. The two of you had become an unstoppable duo, however, could there be more than mere passion for academia behind it?

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, lots and lots of tension, small sprinkles of angst, age gap, professorxstudent relationship

Pairing: Prof!Benedict Cumberbatch x fem!reader (about 9k words, she's a long one)

Professor Cumberbatch led a life full of rules, keeping clear schedules, boundaries, and conversations. Honest, passionate, and helpful would probably be the three words most people would use to define him. A life dedicated to teaching, to helping, to learning. He never swayed away from his clear-cut schemes unless it was for somebody else’s benefit. Selfless… Professor Cumberbatch was also incredibly selfless.

You, however, would think this set of facts did not do justice to his character. Professor Cumberbatch was not just selfless. He was an absolute saint. He had been your point of guidance since you first joined his class in your last year of undergrad and had offered you a place as a research assistant as a Master’s student. He had happily stayed until late hours helping you with your first dissertation and had never failed to answer any question related-or-not to his topic. Benedict Cumberbatch was your hero, which made your crush on him so much more inappropriate.

You had tried to stop thinking about him that way, feeling guilty at the idea that this saint of man was so willing to help you and take you under his wing, and all you did was fantasise about him breaking all the university rules and fucking you. It was an awful feeling, especially when you were sure he didn’t feel the same way, but it was something you couldn’t yet find a way to get rid of.

So here you were, sitting in his office, wearing that baby blue shirt he had once complimented a year ago or so, waiting for him to come back with news on whether you had been accepted to attend the most important conference in your field. You had excused your continuous wear of the shirt by referring to it as your lucky colour, making it the perfect attire for any important moment you had shared with the professor.

Your black heels had been incessantly tapping his beautiful Persian rug as you tried your best not to bite your nails when the door of the office finally opened incredibly slowly, and a gloomy Cumberbatch appeared on the opposite side wearing a shirt of a starkly similar colour as yours. “I am sorry…” he started to speak, and you felt your heart drop immediately, your hands moving to your face, covering it. “That you will have to cancel all your plans for the week April 19th because we are going to the conference!” He shouted your way, a gigantic crooked smile filling his mischievous face. You couldn’t believe it, instantly uncovering your face and checking his expression for a bluff.

You couldn’t help yourself jumping up from the excitement and reaching for him, giving him a hug. Your professor seemed to equally disregard all decorum, wrapping his hands around your waist before whispering to your ear, “it seems like your lucky colour works.” You tried your best to hide the growing warmth on your cheeks as he let go of you.

“Thank you so much for this! I am so excited! I cannot believe it!” You replied once the two of you were at an appropriate distance again, still looking at each other with the utmost admiration and excitement.

“Do not thank me. You did this all yourself. I just had to answer a reference request, and you may be surprised about this, but I find it incredibly easy to tell people how incredible you are.”

…

“Can anybody tell me when Operation Overlord was fought?” Professor Cumberbatch’s voice echoed through the classroom, eyes flickering to meet yours at any given chance. It felt like you two were playing a game, a game whose rules you have long forgotten, unable to focus on anything but him.

Him, the one you dream of when the nights grow warmer, when the heat fills your bedroom like the heat filling your veins whenever he speaks to you.

Him, the one that makes you tremble whenever his skin meets yours, never in an inappropriate way, though forced closer like magnets unable to part.

Him, the man that popped up in your thoughts when you wake and when you are about to fall asleep. An ever present sensation you slowly but surely adapted to.

You didn’t pay attention to the answer of the student that tried to catch the professor’s attention for the past minutes. Your thoughts weren’t able to grow quiet, a loud sound that rang through your mind like a song you couldn’t stop singing. It was wrong, so awfully wrong, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from craving his touch, wanting to feel his body pressed against yours without any clothing caught in between.

Professor Cumberbatch needed a few moments to rip his eyes from your features, breaking eye contact with a slight scowl tugging on his face. The nagging voice inside your head made you wonder if he was annoyed with the other student for cutting your shared moment short. There was always something so intense about the way he looked at you, forcing you to sit straighter, eyes unable to move away.

“Anything else you want to add to today’s lesson? If not, you are good to go.” Your heart picked up its beat as his eyes found yours once again, a silent way of communicating, asking you to stay behind for a few more moments. The other students pushed past you all too impatiently, wanting to flee from the classroom, but you didn’t move, not able to even try to imagine another place where you’d rather be.

“I won’t hold you back for long, I just wanted to give you these folders. It’s everything they gave me for the conference.” Your fingers brushed his as you took the folder, breath hitched in your chest. His eyes followed your every move, watching you thumb through the papers, unable to bite down your smile.

“I am so excited, I can’t wait for us to go there!” Your voice left him smiling, unable to bite down his excited grin. Your nerves were running wild, wondering how being at the conference with him will play out, praying to whoever was listening that you’d be able to also focus on something else besides the gorgeous professor you wanted to call yours.

…

Soft music filled Professor Cumberbatch’s office, ringing in your ears without distracting you from the essays you were grading with the professor. It wasn’t unusual for you to join in on his later sessions, finding comfort in his closeness, even though you wouldn’t share many words, just a few glances here and there.

“What is it? You are biting your lip again.” Professor Cumberbatch’s voice ripped you out of your trance, eyes snapping up from the paper. Heat flushed through you as you let go of your lip, teeth no longer buried in the warm flesh.

“Sorry, I struggle to follow their argumentation, it simply makes no sense, and you know how much I hate saying this.” Your voice was soft, not wanting to interrupt the calm atmosphere you two were trapped in. You watched him move closer, admiring the way he carried himself, the way his beige trousers hugged his legs, and how the rolled up sleeves of his black dress shirt exposed just enough of his muscular forearms and the watch clinging to his left wrist. Fuck, you’d dream of this tonight, you were sure of it.

“Let me have a look.” The professor sat down next to you on the comfortable sofa placed in the far back of his office. The scent of his cologne crawled up your nostrils, making you shudder as his leg was pressed against yours. His eyes carefully followed the sentence you had highlighted, concentrating on the arguments the student seemed to have struggled with. “Yes, I see what you mean. Leave it on my desk later, I’ll add some comments myself.”

He pushed the essay back into your hands, eyes meeting yours. Neither one of you dared to move, eyes not wanting to break contact, hearts calling out to one another without finding the right words to express what was burning on the tip of your tongues. He broke the intense moment first, clearing his throat before he rose back to his feet.

“I think I’ve kept you here long enough, you should get some rest and start packing your bags.” Disappointment filled your system, slowly nodding your head as a quiet “Of course” left your lips. And with one last glance shared, you left his office with a racing heart and sweaty palms.

…

You arrived at your apartment and dropped on your bed, sighing loudly. It was getting too difficult to deal with, to keep your gazes in check, to keep him from knowing how you felt. It was overwhelming. It was driving you crazy. You were growing so desperate for any hint of reciprocation that you had started to imagine things, seeing lust in his gaze when it couldn't be there, when it shouldn’t be there.

You decided to check your already packed bag one more time, giving into the parting words of your professor. All the outfits for the conferences lay perfectly organised in your bag, each accompanied by a pair of matching lingerie. No. you were not planning on sleeping with anyone at this event. It was just an old trick that you had once read; wearing matching lingerie makes you feel confident even outside of the bedroom.

You were about to close the bag when your phone rang on your nightstand. You picked it up, surprised to see Professor Cumberbatch calling you at almost 1 am.

“Hello?” you picked up, your fingers playing with the silky material of the matching nightgown to your lingerie.

“Hey there, apologies for the late phone call,” his voice sounded tired and stressed. You knew exactly how badly he wanted all his students to do well, and grading always put him in a bit of a bad mood.

“No problem, Professor. Is everything okay?” your question was filled with worry as you sat down on your bed and wondered if he was still in his office.

“I was just thinking about our conversation from earlier, and I was worried you would think I dismissed you because you couldn’t finish correcting that paper. You know how much I appreciate you helping me with corrections, and I wouldn’t want you to think anything bad of my dismissal. It was just so late and… I sometimes worry that I am stealing all your time. I am sure you have better things to do on a Saturday night than spend it with me, correcting papers with me.” He ranted away nervously. You could hear the sound of his dress shoes in the background as he paced through the room.

“There is no other place I’d rather be,” you blurted out right away, immediately realising the finality of that statement.

“Really?” he chuckled bitterly, “I am sure any other woman your age would disagree. Your twenties are important for your career but also to go out, have fun, make friends, and make mistakes. Please don’t let me keep you away from doing all of those things.”

“I am having fun, and I have friends,” you laughed, slightly hurt that he thought you were a complete loser.

“You know what I mean,” he chuckled, embarrassed.

“No, professor, I am not quite sure. From what I understand, you think I am a loser with no friends or fun,” you laughed, teasing him further.

“What I was trying to say is that there are significantly funner things to be doing on a Saturday than correcting papers with me. At your age, I was doing much more interesting things, at least.”

“What were you doing, Professor?” It was an inappropriate question, especially in the tone you had spoken it. You were not sure where it had come out from, but the exhaustion and comfort of your bed had pulled it out of you.

“I don’t know…” he seemed to be thinking, trying to understand himself where he wanted to draw a line before this conversation broke his rules, “I was partying, drinking, getting into trouble, trying to get girls.”

“I do all of those things,” you replied confidently, a foxy smile on your lips and a particularly strong inflexion in the all.

“Girls?” he asked, cursing himself right away for falling into your obvious trap.

“Girls… boys…” you laughed, “I am usually not the one trying, though. Especially recently, nobody has really caught my interest that way.”

“I guess I should take advantage of it and continue to monopolise your time until you do,” his answer sent a shiver down your spine. It was late, and neither of you was thinking perfectly straight.

“I think you should,” you replied before a yawn took over your voice.

“I should let you get some sleep. We have a long week ahead of us. See you at the station tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Professor.”

…

You watched the scenery pass by, the lush green countryside, the houses that seemed empty and once left behind in a hurry to disappear from rural places like these. Your heart ached at the thought, finding sadness in the empty places, wondering who had once lived inside these buildings.

It had been a good two hours since you had met the professor at the railway station, boarding the train to the conference. And while he was sitting next to you, elbows and thighs close to touching, eyes focused on a book he was reading, you didn’t find the needed comfortableness to focus on your book nor on your notes.

Your mind painted a colourful picture, wondering how the upcoming day with him so close would play out. Even though you were used to seeing him every single week, this was something new, something exciting, something that left you gasping for air.

“Are you cold?” His voice stroked your limbs like the soft April breeze, hands instinctively finding your arms.

“No, I’m alright, thank you.” You shot him a tired smile, cursing yourself for going to bed that late. A yawn clawed through you, eyes momentarily fluttering close. Perhaps you’d be able to find a few moments of rest, nothing long, though just enough to settle your mind and heart.

It felt like a trick of your brain, focusing on the elbow that was slowly pressing against yours, the forearm that met yours on the armrest separating your seats. Your heart was back to jumping in your chest, pounding louder than the rattling noises of the train.

While your mind started overthinking his move, trying to read between the lines, your body seemed to understand what it was supposed to do. All too slow, you placed your head on his shoulder, eyes not daring to flutter open in case you read the signs wrong. A soft exhale of air left the man, hand finding your knee to squeeze your soft skin.

“Get a bit of rest.” His voice successfully managed to lull you to sleep, heart slowly but surely finding a pace that would allow you to rest.

…

“We are here,” a voice shook you softly awake as you realised you had fallen asleep on the man’s arm. You instantly retracted back to your seat, putting as much distance as the train allowed. He looked at you entertained as he stood up, offering you his hand so you could do the same.

You grabbed it slowly, savouring the way his slender long fingers held yours so confidently and got up.

“The hotel is just a 10-minute walk from the station,” Cumberbatch added as he brought down both of your bags from the shelf at the top and then handed you yours.

…

You made sure to fill up the walk with every possible fun fact you had on the city, describing the few monuments you passed by and making sure you to search for your professor’s eyes, incredibly afraid that you had crossed a line by falling asleep on him. He listened to every single one of your words attentively, nodding and smiling as you made the third energy joke in a row.

“We are here,” Cumberbatch finally interrupted you, pointing at a beautiful historic hotel. You exhaled, thankful that soon you would be able to be in your room, away from him, and finally able to think straight.

The two of you entered the hotel and approached the reception, where a pretty, tall girl offered you a smile. “Hi, how are you? We have a four-night reservation under the name Cumberbatch. Two rooms.”

“Mmh… Cumberbatch?” the woman spoke back as she typed the name. A worried expression crossed her face before she looked up, meeting your eyes first and then the professor’s. “I only have one room for two reserved. Not two rooms.”

“That cannot be.” Benedict’s voice was firm and serious as he calmly placed his arms on the front desk.

“I am very sorry. People sometimes get confused when booking from more than one person and assume there are separate rooms.” She spoke politely, showing her best apologetic look.

“I will then pay for an extra room,” Benedict replied, not once turning to look at you.

“We are fully booked,” the woman replied, pressing her lips together, “I am very sorry.”

“There must be SOME available room,” he doubled down before you interrupted him.

“It is fine. We can make it work. The room has a couch, right?” You tried to ease off the tension, smiling at both your professor and the receptionist.

…

“I am so sorry. I have no idea how this mistake could have happened,” Benedict apologised for the tenth time as you reached the elevator, his eyes as soft and heavy as he tried to find a solution to this situation.

“Professor, it is completely fine.” You finally stopped him as the two of you entered the elevator, “there is a couch in the room. I am happy to sleep there.”

“I won’t let you sleep on the couch,” he replied, shocked that you would even think that was an option.

You sighed, closing your eyes, trying to decipher whether this was a dream or your worst nightmare. All you wanted right now was to be alone, to be by yourself, away from the overwhelming need this man filled you with. You had no idea how you would survive sleeping in the same room, regardless of whether it was on a couch, on a bed or on the ground.

The two of you walked towards the room’s door as Benedict bit the inside of his lip to stop himself from apologising again. He opened the door and was met with a queen-sized bed and a tiny minuscule couch. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, turning back around to you to apologise once again, but you stopped him.

“Let’s grab dinner! I heard some people from the conference are also staying at the hotel and grabbing dinner close by! Let’s go!” You patted him on the back and dropped your bag, ready to leave the room and what it would bring in the following days.

His heavy steps pounded against the ground, following you back towards the elevator. An almost uncomfortable silence was now following you two around, urged on by the inappropriate thoughts you both couldn’t shake off. Perhaps dinner would manage to distract the two of you for a moment, letting go of the tension and relaxing in comfortable chairs with other academics close by.

…

“Some more wine?” Benedict’s breath tickled your neck, forcing you to swallow loudly as you wordlessly reached your glass out for him to refill. His gaze was stuck on your features, on the smile you couldn’t stop from widening whenever he spoke up, murmuring facts about the academics you were now surrounded by.

“You have to tell us, (y/n), how does working with a stubborn man like Benedict Cumberbatch work out?” Your chuckles rumbled through you, eyes finding the piercing ones of the man sitting next to you. By now, you have forgotten most facts Benedict had shared with you, could barely remember their names, and yet you tried to play along, elbows placed on the table with your face placed in your hands.

“Let me tell you, it’s an utter nightmare.” Laughter boomed through the evening, through the garden that surrounded a few tables and chairs. The cosy atmosphere that lingered in the restaurant eased some of your tension from earlier, allowing the two of you to breathe calmly. “I am very lucky to have him by my side. No other professor has ever taught me this much.”

The hand of his that was resting on the back of your chair found your shoulder, fingers stroking your skin softly to communicate the gratitude he was feeling. Benedict was all too used to praises, and yet your words had a new meaning to them, making him sit a bit straighter as he began to pay attention to how some of his colleagues looked at you, unable to bite down their curiosity.

“I am the lucky one, I’ve rarely met students as bright as (y/n).” Heat flushed through you, forcing you to take another sip of your wine. You weren’t nearly as tipsy as you wanted to be, unable to accept his praises, the words he spoke that left your insides churning in excitement.

“Be careful, Benedict, otherwise, we may steal her from you.” One of the men sitting close to Benedict spoke the words without much thought, or so it seemed, not expecting the hard expression to widen on Benedict’s features. The professor didn’t reply, eyes searching yours as you shot him a small smile, hand finding his knee before you could give the gesture much thought. His muscles tensed underneath your hand, but before you could even try to move your hand away, he placed his hand on top of yours, squeezing yours.

“We had a long day, we should catch up on some sleep. Have a good evening.” Benedict’s words forced you to your feet, murmuring a soft “Goodbye” to the others. Your breath got stuck in your lungs as Benedict’s hand found your waist, pulling you closer to him as he guided you out of the restaurant. Once again, you felt your thoughts race, focusing on the way his fingers stroked your clothed waist, guiding you through the warm evening towards the hotel.

No further word was spoken as you stepped into the elevator, standing in front of Benedict with your eyes searching his. You couldn’t ignore the way his eyes flickered between your lips and eyes, praying deep inside that he’d finally close the gap. The two of you stood closer than needed, with his hand still placed on your waist and your hand finding his other one. Perhaps this was the moment you had been desperate for years, hoping that he’d finally cross the invisible line between you.

The mere thought of finally feeling his body pressed against yours left heat to fill your veins, heart pounding in your chest. But before either one of you could move again, the elevator came to a halt, forcing the two of you to step out. Only as the darkness of your shared hotel room lured you closer did you begin to realise that the night wouldn’t end like you had hoped it would.

He turned on the light and spoke, “I will take a shower before going to sleep, but don’t wait up for me, sleep well, (y/n). Please take the bed.”

…

Benedict entered the bathroom and left you alone in the bedroom, leaving you to wonder what you had possibly done wrong to ruin such a perfect moment, to stop him from kissing you. You sat on the bed, defeated, as you heard the sound of the shower turning on. Fuck. Maybe it was the alcohol or the burning feeling on your skin, but this felt like too much, too close, too little. It was ridiculous, nothing that deserved you crying over it, yet you could feel your eyes tearing up. The need was too much. He was too much. It almost felt unfair for him to leave you wanting the way he did.

As the sound of the shower stopped just for a second, you snapped out of your pity party, cleaning the tears from your face and getting changed before your professor could exit the room. You opened your bag and searched for your pyjama, only then realising you had brought your nightgown as your only sleeping option. You sighed loudly, covering your face and then dropping your arms to decide.

“Fuck it,” you spoke to yourself as you took off your clothes, putting on the nightgown that barely covered your ass and left little to the imagination for much else. If he could tease you all night, touching your waist, looking at you the way he did, you could do the same and even if he was not interested at all. Even if you had made every sign up in your mind, no man would not at least be tempted by such an outfit.

The bathroom door opened a few seconds later as you were busy folding your clothes back into your bag. You didn’t even dare to turn around to meet his gaze, suddenly feeling a wave of embarrassment overcome the boldness of the alcohol.

Your professor cleared his throat, and you finally met his gaze, feigning being completely and totally oblivious to what you were wearing. His blue eyes looked almost black by how dilated his pupils were, and you couldn’t help but offer him an innocent smile. He was wearing a loose black T-shirt and some grey pyjama pants.

“I am sorry. I didn’t think I would be sharing my room tonight,” you acknowledged the outfit, walking by his side, brushing his arm just so slightly before entering the bathroom with your toothbrush at hand.

Benedict had to command every single one of his muscles not to turn around, not to look at you walk into the bathroom, not to follow you, to pin you against the sink and fuck you right there.

You left the door of the bathroom open as you brushed your teeth, giving him the possibility to look into to watch as the hem of your nightgown rose high enough to show the curve of your ass. He, however, didn’t. Going straight to his couch and grabbing a pillow and duvet from the cupboard, and laying down.

You exited the bathroom excitedly, hoping to have one more chance to tease him before heading to bed but found him already deep asleep. Facing the back of the couch as he uncomfortably tried to fit within it.

…

POV Benedict

He didn’t dare move, eyes squeezed shut, arms wrapped around his too tall frame for a couch this small. Benedict tried to listen to your breaths, counting them to try and figure out if you were already asleep. His cock was aching, twitching in his boxers in a desperate need to be touched by you.

Fuck, he felt like a young boy, unable to guide his body, to pick up on his needs and urges, and to stop himself from giving in before it got too much. He hadn’t expected you to wear something like this, something that left his heart racing, pumping blood straight to his cock. It was torture, the worst situation he had been forced to live through so far, Benedict was convinced of it.

The second his mind painted a picture of your body pressed against his, he shot up from the couch, searching the false comfort the bathroom offered him, door falling shut with a thud. He could only hope that you were truly asleep by now, not picking up on his movements, the heavy breaths leaving him.

His hand pushed his boxers down his legs, just enough to free his hard cock. Precum was bearding his tip, veins shining through the thin skin, fuck, how much he wanted to feel and see your hands wrapped around him. Would you use your mouth on him? Would you stroke your tongue along the underside of his cock before sucking on his tip?

A heavy moan threatened to leave him, caught seconds before it could echo through the bathroom. His teeth left marks on his lower lip as his hand picked up its pace, fucking himself without any mercy, working on the fleeting time night offered him. Deep down, he hated himself for pushing you away this very night, wondering why he hadn’t given in, why he hadn’t chased the closeness you had been willing to offer. But something had held him back, something he was now regretting.

He couldn’t stop another moan from not leaving him, eyes squeezed shut, head rolled back. His orgasm was close, a desperate need to finally get over the sensations the mere sight of you had pushed through him. Benedict had to stop himself from choking on your name, from talking to the (y/n) he imagined kneeling in front of him.

With one last heavy breath leaving him, white cum began to cover his hand, sticking to his skin. Benedict pumped his cock a few more times before he let go of his cock, settling down on the toilet seat.

…

POV Reader

This night probably counted as the top three worst nights of sleep in your life. You had spent it between nightmares and sweats, waking up every couple of hours, feeling incredibly restless. You were thankful to see that it was already 7 am the next time you were shaken awake by another terrible dream. It took you a second to ground yourself; remember where you were. You instantly turned to the couch and found it empty, the bedsheets of your professor perfectly folded on top of it.

You scanned the rest of the room, sitting up, finding it equally as empty. A mix of disappointment and relief filled your chest as you were equal parts thankful he wouldn’t have to see you with this exhausted face and sad you didn’t even get a glance at how he looked right after he woke up in the morning.

You checked your phone and found a message from him, “Good morning! I wanted to give you some privacy before the big day. I will be waiting for you at the lounge if you want to grab breakfast together.”

You smiled at the message, forgetting all about last night. Everything was okay. The two of you were okay. He was your professor, after all, your rock. He had every right to reject you. Everything was okay.

…

You took your time getting ready, trying the different outfits you had brought as options and opting for the simplest one. Your ‘lucky’ shirt, some black suit trousers, and black stilettos. You exited the room confidently, your bag with your presentation at hand and your earphones in your ears. Your “gameday” playlist playing at full volume.

You entered the hotel lounge, finding your professor sitting on a beautiful leather couch, a newspaper on his lap. He was wearing a white button-up and some navy trousers. You approached him eagerly, removing your earphones and greeting him with a smile, “good morning, professor.”

“Good morning,” Benedict spoke, not meeting your gaze once. Eyes stuck on the newspaper.

“Should we get breakfast?” You kept on the smile, sure, he was just very enthralled by whatever he was reading.

“I have actually already eaten,” he replied with a sigh, intensifying his gaze on the paper. You pouted, disappointed, confused by his sudden coldness. “I have some meetings to attend before your presentation. Do you mind if we meet there already?”

You hesitated in answering, trying to keep the disappointment on your face from turning into clear sadness. He finally looked up, noticing your silence. His eyes were empty, cold like they had never been before.

“Of course,” you finally replied after he raised an eyebrow, “I…I will just go over the presentation by myself.” You had to look away before your eyes started to water, which seemed to pull a reaction right out of you.

Benedict stood up and placed a hand on your shoulder, “you will do amazingly. You are smart and incredible. You don’t need me for this. I will be in the crowd cheering.”

You tried to look at him, thankful that it had just been a small weird moment of coldness, but he had already started to walk away towards the exit of the hotel, leaving you standing there.

…

Were this many people always supposed to be at the event? Had everyone just suddenly realised your topic was cool and decided to listen to you talk? Where was he? You were starting in mere minutes, and there were barely any seats left. Where was he?

You squeezed the flashcards in your hands, trying to stop the trembling in your hands. You peeked once again from the stage, searching for him between the rows of mostly middle-aged men.

“You are going up in three,” some random guy with an earpiece said as you nodded emphatically, shutting your eyes and trying to control your breathing.

You stayed there for a couple of seconds, controlling your breathing, reminding yourself that this was your research. That you could do this alone. That you didn’t need anybody else. You were about to open your eyes when a hand on your shoulder startled you. Blue. All you saw was blue for a second until you could focus on the rest of his face. He had changed. He was wearing your lucky colour.

“Everything will be fine,” Benedict nodded softly, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead as he seemed slightly out of breath.

“You are here,” you exhaled the words out.

“I am sorry, I-” he lowered his gaze in shame, but he was stopped by the earpiece guy announcing you were up. “You can do this. You are smart. Your research is incredible, and you are so incredibly charismatic that I wouldn’t be surprised if every professor in the room would try to steal you after this. Go show them how amazing you are. I am here.”

You nodded emphatically, instinctively pulling him into a hug and burying your face in his chest just for a second, feeling as he stiffened under your touch. You let go of him and nodded a little more, breathing in and out and walking onto the stage.

…

“Thank you, everyone, for listening,” you closed your presentation as the room broke into a myriad of applauses, a feeling of euphoria filling your chest as you turned to look to your professor, that stood still behind the curtain, giving you the most idolising smile you had ever seen.

You walked out of the stage with a gigantic smile straight towards your professor, whose hands immediately cupped your face, “that was incredible.”

“Thank you,” you looked up at him, immediately filled with all that tension that had been there the night before.

You were interrupted by a group of listeners approaching, and Benedict immediately moved away from you, looking down, realising the inappropriateness of his proximity. It felt as if this moment managed to rip you out of your trance, the bubble of excitement and happiness had popped, and once again doubts began to fill your mind. You were hurt, sad, and angry that Benedict hadn’t been there to support you through the hours leading up to your talk, hiding away from you rather than murmuring comforting words.

Whatever game he was playing, it was a game you found no pleasure in, growing antsy as you began to overthink what had happened in the past hours. From the second he had told you about the conference, Benedict had promised that he’d be with you on that very special day. He’d guide you like a mentor, like a friend, empty promises you were now clinging to. The ship had left the harbour, but the waves of anger had ripped it to the cold ground before the crew could swim to safety. Swimming had always been easy with Benedict near, but drowning had felt so much easier today.

…

The glass of champagne felt cold against your palm as you let your eyes wander. You were able to spot a few familiar faces in the crowd of scientists you were trapped in, celebrating your and their success. Benedict stood close to you, focused on the conversation he had been pulled into, unable to escape before the others had noticed him.

“An impressive talk, (y/n), I hope you’re proud of yourself.” One of the men you and Benedict had dined with yesterday evening was now standing in front of you. He was handsome, almost as tall as Benedict, but his eyes didn’t have that mesmerising blue colour you’d always recognise, his hair wasn’t brown like the coffee Benedict would bring you whenever you helped him grade essays, and his hands weren’t as big as the ones you wanted to feel on your body.

“Thank you! I am very happy about the crowd’s reaction to it.” A smile tugged on your lips as you took a sip, buying yourself some time. Fading seconds Benedict used to study you, the fake smile he instantly saw through, the slightly uncomfortable shifting of your weight from one leg to the other. He stepped closer, hand trying to come to rest on your waist, but you pulled away before he could touch you. “Excuse me, gentlemen, I’ll get myself another drink.”

You felt his eyes burning through your back, standing on the spot you had been standing on seconds ago, jaw muscles clenched. With every step you took away from him, your heart picked up its pace, pounding in your ribcage, fuelled by your anxiety and anger. Why did he have to be so cold towards you this morning? Why did he have to chase the distance rather than finally closing the small gaps between you?

Slowly you made your way through the crowd, holding onto your refilled glass with an iron grip. You weren’t nearly as tipsy enough as you wanted to be, pouring down big gulps to try and get rid of the tension that held your system hostage. Piercing blue eyes found yours from afar, wordlessly guiding you closer, surrounded by men and women you haven’t met before.

“May I introduce you to my wonderful (y/n)?” Benedict’s voice had a strange undertone to it, pronouncing your name with a newfound possessiveness dripping from it. This time you didn’t get to pull away as his hand gripped your waist, pulling you into his side. Your thoughts were racing as fast as your heart, but you tried to smile at the people that now shook your free hand, eyes not wandering from your features. Benedict’s fingers kept boring into your skin, not giving you the slightest chance to even try and escape him.

Only as the people moved on, finding new conversations to get lost in, did you manage to free yourself. With your gaze set on your glass, you took a step away from him and another before his patience seemed to snap. His big hand came down on your wrist, the other took your glass from you to place it down on the nearest table before he started pulling you through the room.

“Where are we going?” He ignored your question, pulling you outside into the hallway.

“What is going on with you? You’re behaving like a child.” Benedict’s words cut right through you, forcing a scoff from you. For a second, you allowed yourself to study him. His eyes no longer reminded you of a cloudless blue sky, but rather an angry storm threatening to unleash its power, fuck, why was he still so very handsome.

“I’m the one behaving like a child? You left me hanging this morning, even though you promised not to leave me alone before the talk!” He clenched his jaw, eyes growing even darker as he took a step closer, towering over you.

“Is that how you speak to your supervisor? I’d be careful of my tone if I were you.” You barely recognised his voice, dark and husky, leaving your thighs clenching and your hands shaking. Even though you were angry at him, so fucking angry, you couldn’t help but let your gaze flicker to his lips, wanting to feel them pressed against yours.

“Are you threatening me? You know what, fuck you, Benedict!” The words left you before you could stop them from rolling off your tongue, trying to turn away from him with hurried steps. But you didn’t get far, pulled against his hard chest with one of his hands cupping your warm cheek and the other resting on your waist. For a few seconds, Benedict studied you with dilated pupils and heavy breaths spluttering from his thin lips. Seconds that passed by all too slowly, torturing you and your racing heart. Something seemed to give him the final push, lips meeting yours before you could speak another word.

Your mind didn’t get any time to focus on the situation, guided by your body, by the way your lips moved in sync with his. For years you had tried to imagine what kissing Benedict may feel like, but this was a new sensation, something raw, something full of emotion, something you were addicted to from the first second on. Your hands found his suit jacket, clinging to him for dear life as if you were scared he’d part from you way too soon.

His tongue moved along your lower lip, coaxing a moan from you. The kiss grew more heated with every passing second, relishing in one another’s touch, the beats of your racing hearts, the blood rushing through your veins, a beautiful mixture. Benedict slowly parted from you to catch his breath, staring down at you with a smirk, an expression that left your insides churning in anticipation. With his hand finding yours, he wordlessly pulled you down the hallway towards the elevator that would take you up to the floor of your room.

Was this it? Was this the moment you had thought of too many times to count? Was this the moment you had thought of as your wandering hands took care of the ache between your legs?

The second the doors of the elevator started to close, you were pulled in for another kiss, pressed against the mirror you didn’t dare look at. You could only guess that you looked like a mess, hair tousled, lips swollen, eyes wide – all because of the man that couldn’t stop touching you.

“I,” Benedict murmured against your lips, hands toying with the fabric of your lucky shirt, struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry for being this cold towards you, I still struggle with what you make me feel, and with the power my position holds over you, I don’t ever want you to think that I’m using you. You need to know, if you want me to stop, you can always say so.”

His thumb ran along your swollen lips, unable to bite down his smile as you pressed a kiss to his digit. The elevator came to a halt, allowing the two of you to find your way to your hotel room, pushed inside by his big hand finding your lower back. Benedict didn’t let you get far, hands pulling you against his chest, eyes getting lost in yours.

“I need your spoken consent before I touch you.” His lips ghosted over yours, patiently waiting for you to speak up. It took you a few seconds to speak up, unable to concentrate on anything but his touch, the fire he had unleashed inside of you, a fire so daunting he wouldn’t ever be able to tame it.

“Touch me, please, professor.” The use of his title seemed to push Benedict over the edge, growling against your lips as you were guided towards the big bed. His lips found your throat, sucking on the spots that left your toes curling and your heart skipping needed beats. Skilled hands undid the buttons of your shirt, pushing the fabric off your shoulders to expose the lacy lingerie you were wearing. Benedict marveled at you, freezing the moment for seconds as his eyes took in the sight in front of him, wondering how and why he got so lucky.

You murmured his name, snapping him out of his trance, hands working on his shirt. The moment pushed your nerves over the edge, hands struggling to undo the small buttons, signing in relief as he pushed you away, tugging the shirt over his head. Benedict didn’t give you any time to take in his upper body, the muscles you wanted to run your hands across, the freckles and small spots you wanted to kiss, forced down onto the bed. Your professor towered over you, lower lip caught between his teeth as he watched you undo your bra, exposing your breasts to his wandering eyes.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to see you like this, at my mercy, ready to give me whatever I’m asking of you.” His raspy voice left you gasping, eyes rolling back as his hands undid your trousers, helping you out of them. By now, you were only wearing your soaked-through, lacy panties, a sight that could make the blind see again, Benedict was sure of it. A work of art, the finest creation his eyes would ever get to take in. He wanted to take his time with you, wanted to love on every inch of your skin, but his own desperation drove him closer to you, shuffling out of his trousers with hurried movements.

He crawled up your body, flipping the two of you around for you to settle in his lap, feeling his hard cock pressing against your core. Fuck, you were already done for, balancing along the line of your state of pleasure only he’d push you into. His hand found the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss, eyes fluttering close as his free hand found your chest, cupping your breast, tugging on your hard nipple. Moans clawed through you, all too shamelessly, all too freely, unable to hold back the sounds he elicited.

“I knew I'd never be able to hold back once I touched you, and I was scared of losing my control around you.” You knew he was talking about yesterday evening. You knew he was trying to smooth out the wrinkles on your heart he had crumpled like a piece of paper, and yet you couldn’t focus on them. You kissed him again, murmuring a soft “I need you, professor” against his lips.

His strong hands found your hips, grinding your core against his clothed cock, making your breaths get stuck in your lungs. The both of you were close to snapping, skipping the foreplay just to feel one another, and yet Benedict tried to hold back, not wanting to end your moment together this fast. Your legs quivered, the feeling he pushed through you with the grinding movements left your walls clenching around nothing, forcing a “More, please” out of you.

“Ask for it properly, you know how to be a good girl for me.” Benedict’s teasing words left you whining, eyes fluttering close as he stopped your movements, holding still to patiently wait for you to express your every need.

“Want your cock, fuck, need you inside of me.” A growl was forced out of Benedict, flipping you around once again, panties forced down your legs before your mind could even begin to catch up with his movements. With your body fully exposed to him, you were lying beneath him, staring up at him with lust-blown pupils and your teeth buried in your lower lip. His big hand found your core, brushing his fingers through your folds, moaning as he felt your wetness. You were dripping for him, body showing him how much you needed his touch, how desperate you were for him, for his fingers, for his cock.

His soft fingers circled your pulsing bundle of nerves, forcing your back to arch and your hands to fist the fabric of the blanket you were laying on. Benedict found himself obsessing over your sounds, hoping that he’d get to coax them out of you for endless nights to come, very well aware that he’d never be able to part from you and your bond again.

“Oh fuck, don’t stop.” He had pushed two fingers into your tightness, curling them against your swollen spot. Both of you knew that he was teasing you, fucking you all too slow, wanting to prolong the moment for as long as possible. Curses rolled off your tongue, forcing one of your hands to find his forearm, nails clawed into his skin, set on leaving marks he’d have to hide for the next few days.

“So desperate for me, so pretty, I knew you’d be perfect for me.” His praises left your skin growing warmer, eyes unable to meet his intense gaze. You felt your orgasm growing closer, wanting to let go, giving room to the intense sensation you were aching for. But just a second before you could give in with his name rolling off your tongue, Benedict let go of you.

Your eyes snapped open, staring at him with parted lips and furrowed eyebrows, a moment of confusion passed as you watched him reach for his wallet, pulling out a silvery foil packet. His eyes searched yours as he pulled his cock free, boxers left on the ground next to your panties; you couldn’t pay any attention to the fabric, eyes wandering down his naked frame, taking in the sight of his hard cock. His tip was flushed red, length twitching in his grasp, close to combusting.

“Are you sure about this? We can always stop.” Benedict was once again towering over you, not daring to move as he stared down at you. With one hand, you pulled him down to you, lips finding his as you murmured a soft “Fuck me”. Skilled fingers rolled the condom down his cock, aligning himself with your entrance before he slowly pushed into you. The both of you had to halt for a moment, eyes squeezed shut to take in the new feeling, adjusting to the tightness of your walls to the size of his cock.

“Move, please.” Your command was met with a groan, building a slow rhythm that took a few thrusts for you to get used to. The moans that tried to claw through you were held back by your pressed-together lips, not wanting to give your loud sounds enough room to reverberate through the thin four walls you were surrounded by, something Benedict easily picked up on.

“Don’t hold back, let me hear you, love.” The use of the nickname broke the dam, allowing your sounds to rumble through you. Your nails left marks down his back, scratching at his skin in a desperate try to hold onto him. His hips met yours with every thrust, forcing himself deeper into you, needing to etch this every moment into your mind. “You’re doing so well, my pretty girl.”

The second his tip met your swollen spot, you choked on your gasps, letting go of a high-pitched “Oh god”, very well knowing that you’d cum all too soon. Benedict’s smile began to widen as he picked up on your desperation, fingers finding their way back to your clit. You gripped his shoulders as your orgasm began to rock through you, filling your every pore, overtaking your whole body.

Benedict fucked you through your high, getting lost in your pleasure and drunken features, feeling his own high filling his body. He gave it a few more thrusts before he came, holding still as his cum filled the condom.

…

The rest of the week was spent between conferences, lingering touches, and long nights of fucking. Benedict could barely keep his hands away from you when you were in public. His eyes were always searching for you when you weren’t by his side. His hands perpetually on your waist as the two of you made small talk with other academics. Sometimes you couldn't make it until the night, sneaking into an empty hallway, a bathroom, back to your room. He was addicted to you, and you could barely believe all your dreams had finally come true.

It was safe to say your grading sessions were never the same again. They mostly occurred in his house now, and they included dinner and a couple of fucking-breaks. They weren’t as efficient but significantly more fun.

#Benedict Cumberbatch smut #Benedict Cumberbatch imagine #professor fic #doctor strange #bbc sherlock #Benedict Cumberbatch x you

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brunchable · 2 years

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A Touch of Jealousy [Request] || Doctor Strange x F!Reader.

Word count: 5.4K. Poisonous Touch (Part Two). Summary: Stephen reminds you, who your husband is. Warning: SMUT OVER 18s ONLY. Domineering acts, edging, oral (female receiving), fingering, belt spanking, unprotected p & v sex, rough sex, creampied. Request: Written for @sherlux Strictly do not: claim, repost, copy, translate my stories anywhere else. A/N: So... jealous Stephen? Anybody?

Following Stephen's victory against his evil double and Wanda, America has taken you and Stephen back to the reality from which you both originated. Following his request to be left alone with you, the Sanctum was now completely empty save for the two of you. He then turned his attention to you and fixed you with the most icy of eyes before immediately throwing you over his shoulder.

"Stephen! What the heck are you doing?" He did not respond to you in any way; rather, he continued to move about the residence. You entered the bedroom slamming the door shut violently, and all you could think to say was, "Stephen." You hated the fact that you enjoyed what was happening, but you couldn't help anticipate what he was about to do to you.

You fell with a bounce on the bed as he tossed you down, and his shadowy figure proceeded to lean over you as his piercing eyes watched your every movement as he stood over you.

You said to him, "Stephen, I'm exhausted," as your thoughts drifted towards the idea of kissing him.

"And I don't care." He began to stoop down more towards you. Before you could even react, his warm lips had already taken hold of yours. You let out a groan as your hands rushed to his neck and began clutching strands of his hair. As his body left yours, he groaned into your touch as his hands moved around your arms and brought them over your head.

"What ar-" You asked confusedly.

"You honestly think I was going to allow you to touch me? Hmm? After you behaved like a fucking whore?" He questioned and tutted, he moved away from your body entirely and went over to the dresser that was next to the bed. You listened as the pace of your heartbeat increased. He pulled out a black burberry tie, which you didn't even know he owned. Your eyes widened as he quickly returned to your side and grabbed both of your wrists, pulling them up to the level of your head.

"W-what on earth are you doing?" You mumbled under your breath as he secured your wrists to the bedpost.

"I'm punishing you," When you heard those words, your whole body trembled, and a chill raced down your spine. "Oh, sweetheart, you shouldn't appear quite so eager." He tightened his hold on your hands to be absolutely certain that you would not be able to escape.

"Why is that?" You made a whimpering sound while licking your lips.

"You're not supposed to like or enjoy this. You have been a naughty girl, shown by the fact that you loved fucking that other version of myself, in front of me." He reached out and ran his palm over your neck while the darkness in his eyes deepened.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to make you angry; all I wanted to do was rescue you." While you relished the sensation of his touch on your flesh, you made an attempt to escape.

He pressed both of your cheeks closer together, "You really didn't think that I would get upset at you fucking someone else? No?" You groaned in response to what he said.

“Given the gravity of the situation, I was under the impression that you wouldn't give a damn about it.” You wanted to test your ability to enrage him since you now, knew that furious and forceful sex is the most satisfying. His grasp on your cheeks tightened.

"I don't like sharing what's mine." He growled. He pressed his lips back to yours again as his hands began to travel down to harshly grip your hips as he pushed himself against you. This kiss was rougher than any of the others, it was more urgent. As his tongue slipped into your mouth, his large fingers snaked their way under your shirt, making their way up to your stomach.

You whined loudly as you wanted to touch him, your husband, you craved it. Stephen grumbled against you as he scrunched the fabric of your top in his fists and tore it in half, exposing your black lace bra.

"Stephen!" You gasped, but he ignored you. He let out a snarl, his fingers were quick to relieve you of your bra as he threw it and your torn shirt on the floor. You threw your head back as he kissed down your jaw and neck.

His tongue started to move over the delicate surface of your breast as his lips began to suckle it. This prompted your back to arch. Your lips never ceased moaning during the whole session. As you continued to fight against the tie, you noticed that it was starting to cause discomfort in your wrists.

"Stephen.." You moaned, and you felt him smile as he resumed his job sucking till your breasts were painful, "Please." You begged, you wanted—no, you need him to go lower. You desired for him to see how damp you are and how much your body yearned for his presence.

"No speaking. Unless it's me you're referring to." He gave the command, his voice crackling with the pent-up rage he'd been suppressing. Your eyes widened but you nodded. His fingers then wrapped around your hips, as he began to take your pants off. Your underwear came next, and the frigid air in the room caused you to gasp as Stephen parted your legs, exposing your dampness to him.

"Oh darling, you’re going to make a mess." When he realised how wet you were, he let out a groan. His hands on your thighs, he began to give you a series of gentle kisses that moved from one to the other.

"Stephen!" You let out a shocked sigh as his lips finally made contact with your clit, which he then kissed several times before sucking on and as you allowed yourself to be overcome by pleasure, your eyes started to close.

A smack to the inner thigh caused you to rapidly open your eyes, and when you looked down, you saw the man smirking to himself in the space in between your legs.

"Eyes open, darling," He ordered, "I want you to see who is making you feel so amazing." You whimpered in response to his low grumbling voice, which matched those remarks.

He stroked his tongue over your slit, and as soon as you started to quiver, he clamped down even harder on your legs. He brought his hand to your folds and separated them.

"You have such a pretty cunt." He moved in for another kiss on your moist cunt and leant in closer, but you needes something else.

"Fingers. Please, Stephen."

Once again, he smacked you on the thigh. "What did I say to you?" He got up and walked over to his dresser, his body once again became disconnected from yours. As soon as you saw the colour pink, you were aware of what he was about to get. You became nervous.

"You need to be reminded who you're married to, haven't you?" He mumbled under his breath as he moved back in between your thighs. He activated the pink orb with a flick of a switch and pushed it to your clit, sending harsh vibrations to go throughout your body, "I don't think I can ever punished you enough." He smirked as he saw you struggling against the ties.

He bit his lips as he slid one of his fingers inside your cunt, which resulted in an increase in the level of pleasure. You began to screaming as you were completely absorbed in the experience.

"You don't deserve to come yet." After he said that, your eyes immediately widened in response, "I think I should edge you two times." While he was talking, he inserted another finger, roughly to pumping his two mid-fingers inside you rapidly. As you got closer and closer to your high, your thoughts became cloudy and blank.

You clenched and tightened around his fingers, and you were almost ready to come forwards when everything came to a standstill. You started whining as he took the vibrator and his fingers away from you. He sucked his fingers by bringing them up to his lips, putting them to his mouth, "Hmm~ So sweet."

You gave Stephen a dirty look before looking away, feeling ashamed.

He leant over you and compelled you to look at him while saying, "Oh, don't be angry, you brought this to yourself." You showed displeasure at his comments, you wanted to win his approval, and you desired to show submission to your spouse so that he may ravish you.

He kissed you tenderly, and his tongue moved slowly around the inside of your mouth. As you gasped into his lips, his fingers were back where they had been on your folds. While one of his arms curled around your waist, he started pumping two of his fingers in and out of your hole while the other arm brought you closer to him.

"I own this little cunt. No one else's," You moaned at his possessive behaviour as he leant in close to whisper something in your ear, "Only I am able to touch you in such a way. I am the only one who has the ability to touch you and fuck you to the point where you won’t be able to walk. Do you understand?"

You nodded as your body began trembling as he quickened his pace.

"I said, do you understand?" He repeated.

"I-I und-derstan-nd." You swallowed the thick drool inside your mouth and could barely answer back.

"Say it," He growled in your ear, his grip tightening.

"My little cunt is yours. Only yours. No one else's."

"Of course it is." He had you wrapped around his fingers and his lips had finally found their way back to yours. You felt the growing of your ecstasy, and you strained once more against his binds as you felt the closeness of releasing.

Even though Stephen could tell you were getting closer, he didn't slow down his fingers. You groaned even more loudly than you had previously as you continued to strain violently against the bonds, which caused your legs to quiver. While Stephen's fingers were pounding away at you, Stephen's thumb was on your clit and he was rubbing it furiously. You let out a cry of delight since you were so near to the feeling the sweet ecstacy. Instantaneously, you were able to regain control of your hands once the knot gave way. When he stopped moving, your eyes widened in response.

"I'm sorry." You spoke in a low voice.

"No, you're not." You knew he was right but he could've tied it tighter?

"Face down. On the bed. Now," He said, his voice carrying an undercurrent of anger. You began to move to get on your hands and knees, but before you did, you turned around to stare at him as he pushed his trousers down, exposing his incredibly perfectly sculpted cock.

"Did I say look at me? Down. Now." He grasped your hips, drove his knees into the backs of your knees, placed one arm across your waist, and then used a steady hand to push you over so that you were bending over at the waist and then you saw him reaching for something on the nightstand.

You inhaled deeply and then gently released the air from your lungs. When the folded leather belt made contact with your flesh, you both felt and heard a smacking sound. You took another blow from him. You screamed out. After giving the region a little petting with his free hand, he continued to strike you afterwards.

"Do you like that?" He asked, with some hesitance in his voice.

"Yes." You responded with each fresh whack that was delivered. You gave a little buck as he slapped you skin while rubbing his hand softly all over your ass and stroking the stinging region between swats. However, he did not stop slacking you.

The moans that were emanating from you became more loud. Once again, your hips began to move, and he immediately stopped. You were freed from his grasp when he assisted you in climbing higher onto the bed. He leant forwards and bit you firmly on the hip. You squirmed away. He grabbed you, dragged you back to the spot where you were, and struck you on the rear end once again.

"Where are you going?" He asked, and reached two fingers into your cunt from behind.

"I.." You were completely at a loss for words. He was absolutely filling you up and stretching you out on the inside. You could feel how wet you were.

"Do you like THAT?" He asked and shoved another finger inside.

"YES." He removed his fingers from you and proceeded to nibble and suckle on your ass cheeks while they were still in his grasp.

He ran his nails all over your thighs, cheeks, hips and up your back. He started groping you, twisting the thick of your ass in his hands and pulling at you. This was in line of a wild massage. You weren't fond of it at first, but he spiced things up by playing with your clit with his fingers, biting and swatting you, and so on.

Before you knew it, he was devouring you. He didn't waste any time stretching it out and jamming his tongue inside before trying to fuck you with it. He had three of his fingers stuck within you and you bucked your hips, applying intense pressure inside you. You had risen to a higher level at this point, and you had entirely lost contact with the discomfort that it ought to have caused. You could tell that he was stroking his own cock since the bed was shaking as he did this, and he instructed you to reach down and stroke your clit while pumped the cock you wanted to touch so badly.

"Would I be that easy on you?" He asked, with the same icy demeanour and authoritative tone as before. You rubbed harder. "Would I be that light? Harder." You obliged, despite the fact that the beat didn't feel as wonderful as your regular one, but you didn't worry about this at all. It was pushing you to your breaking point. You could feel yourself tighten on him.

"Roll over,” He said, lifting up, pulling his hand out of you. You turned over and instantly spread your legs out for him, at which point he reached his hand up for you to suck some of your fluids off of him. His voice remained icy even as he established eye contact with you once again, "Are you mine?" He probed your clit with his thumb while asking the question.

You had the need to shut your eyes, tilt your head back, and writhe about in response to the pressure, but you resisted the urge and instead gazed into his eyes while firmly responding "Yes."

"Say it," He said in a tone that was forceful, frigid, and demanding.

"I'm yours. ALWAYS. Yours." You repeated it, and he slipped his cock into your cunt after covering it with fluids while rubbing himself against your slit. Your body contorted in discomfort as you realised that you would have to bear with his enormity for far longer than you had anticipated. He halted exactly where he was. He was aware that he shouldn't go too far, too quickly. At this stage, the discomfort was manageable but it was definitely still there.

You couldn't help but move your fingers in a looping motion around your clit. Everything felt fantastic. At first, he rocked quite gently in order to stretch you out more. You felt more and more pleasure from him, so he slid deeper and deeper with every few moments. Finally he was fully inside of you, you were writhing in excruciating delight in response to his thrusts. He was picking up the pace and going for a deeper roll with his hips as he did so. You continued to rock into him, insatiably craving more of him. You were acting really wildly.

"You're mine," He said again, not wanting a response. Your eyes were locked into his while his cock abuses your insides. He reached down to remove your fingers from your clit and then seized control as the expression on his face changed reflecting the pure pleasure of being inside of you. He realised you were in such an elevated level of pleasure from the rise he gave to your threshold of pain, that felt too great for him to quit doing it even though he knew you felt the sting.

"Yes," You let out a little cry as he continued to drive you beyond your limits. When you reached out to touch him, you saw that he seemed to be losing layers of hurt and rage. You were sceptical that he would ever put it into words.

He drew back and thrust. Your bodies met with a slap. You whimpered and sighed—it was sudden, but pleasurable.

While his hands were delicately curled around your neck, he said, "Harder?" The slap of his body against yours was followed by a groan from deep inside your throat, and he pulled back again, pushed with more effort, and then asked, "Harder?" after the slap of his body against yours.

You inhaled deeply, held it for a while, and then exhaled slowly as you saw him rock from side to side while holding himself inside of you. You hadn't prepared yourself for how different things really turned out to be. It was thrilling, but it still hasn't sunk in that Stephen's possessive nature was much more intense than you had anticipated.

You felt a warmth like to that of the sun spread throughout your body as he plunged and assaulted your cunt again and again with the same force. He moved slowly but steadily. You let out a scream as he pushed your head and neck farther into the mattress. You attempted to concentrate your attention to his rhythm while also taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. You were frightened, but the pain was a mild, humming pain, and the pressure was manageable even if Stephen was slightly pushing too hard against your windpipe.

"You want me to fuck you harder?" He waited for an answer.

"Y-yes," You managed to say as you held onto his veined wrists.

"Beg me, (Y/N). Beg me to fuck you harder." He was fingers held your throat firmly, the restriction on your airflow intensifying. But you didn't want him to stop.

You moaned the following second as he entered you with a swift, brief buck of his hips and murmured, "Fuck me harder, please."

After a few more fast thrusts forwards, he straightened his back, and he released his grasp on your neck so that he could hold your hips while he fucked you. As soon as you were free from his hold, you drew a long breath and coughed. At the same time, his thrusts continued to propel you forwards and a distinct pleasure built between your legs. You elevated your gaze and strained your eyes to view his face, which was flushed and contorted as a result of the effort. You could see that he was attempting to hold back, because he wanted more.

"Harder?" he asked, his jaw clenched. He reached one hand forward and grasped your wrists and used them as leverage to thrust a little more vigorously. You could hear his impatience in his voice, "Answer me."

"Yes," You gasped. "Harder, please. Fuck me harder, Stephen."

As he continued to bury himself further and deeper, the bed underneath you began to shake. You were able to feel the flesh of your ass spring at each penetration, and you knew that Stephen was concentrating his attention there, watching his cock get sucked in by your cunt. He strengthened his grasp on your wrists, tugging hard against the momentum of his hips, and he discovered a rhythm, punctuated by his quick breathing and your increasingly desperate cries.

You’ve never seen Stephen get so rough with you before, not any of the hundred times you'd imagined it. Your fantasies had been thrilling and you'd varied the scenarios, but they'd all been romantic. Your lustiest fantasies failed in comparison to the reality of this violent fucking, driven by jealousy and punishment. Stephen was sensual and patient and he’d always has been the same sexually. Sex with him usually consisted of kisses lasting and the caresses lingering. Always moving as one, wrapped in each other's arms in the bed, beneath the sheets.

Nevertheless, you couldn't deny that Stephen turned you on. Your skin was flushed, your mouth was dry, and your brain was swimming with confused excitement. At the same time, tension was building up inside of you, and it was that familiar urgent pain that had you groaning and grabbing at the sheet on the bed.

Stephen abruptly pulled his cock out of you without warning as he rolled onto his back and led you to go on top of him, drawing you close into his arms. You kissed for a few seconds and he snaked a hand down between you, taking his cock into his hand. His other hand nudged your hips away from his and without thinking about it, you rose, shifted and positioned yourself so the head of his cock touched the entrance to your cunt. He heaved a sigh, grasped both of your hips in his hands, and urged for you to go down on him. You led him all the way inside and then sat up with your legs spread out around his hips while altering the angle of your pelvis so that his cock could penetrate you more deeply.

You gazed down at Stephen, who was smiling lustfully with his lips apart and reaching for you at the same time. "Kiss me," He ordered.

You leant over and felt a nice change in the pressure that he was applying inside of you. You followed his instructions and brought your lips to his, at which point he held your head in his hands and kissed you passionately. When he did this, his hips would move underneath you and push upward.

When you began to move your hips in response, he pressed his hand across your lips and whispered, "Don't move.”

As he began raising his hips and thrusting himself into you with short, fast thrusts, you stopped moving and clutched the surface of the bed. His rapid breathing began almost instantly, and the expression that appeared on his face made it very clear that he was lost in his arousal. He kissed you, and as he did so, his tongue made a rough stroke in between your lips.

"Are you coming?" He panted, still thrusting into you. "I want to see that expression on your face again."

"Not yet," You said truthfully.

He kissed you again and pushed his hips high, holding them against you for a second.

"Touch yourself," He said. He returned his hips to the surface of the bed in a very measured manner. "Stroke that pussy, (Y/N)."

You slipped a hand between the two of you and were taken aback by how wet you were. You jumped as your finger lightly went across your clit, and Stephen grinned a hungry smile at the same time.

"That's it, baby," he said softly. "Stroke yourself."

He studied at you for a while as you slipped your fingers all over your folds and then slid them down so that you could feel his cock penetrating you. He smiled. After that, he moved, pressing himself against you so that your hand was caught between the two of you. As he entered you, his hips gave a strong buck, and you let out a scream as he filled you in.

"Keep stroking your clit." His voice was full of lust as he watched you react to your own touch. "God, you're sexy when you do that."

You let out another scream, excited by what he had said, and you stroked yourself more frantically. His hands went to cover your breasts as he continued to press himself further and farther inside you. The ecstasy was reaching its peak, and you let out a scream. Stephen pushed you to continue, but his words were hardly audible above a whisper. You moaned and panted while letting your fingers fly over your clit.

You started to move your hips in an attempt to ride him, but he reached down and grabbed your head once in his hands. Because of the force with which he held you, you felt a surge of panic go through your body.

“Don't move," He hissed and admonished you sternly, "Don't move." He brought your mouth down to his again and for a second neither of you moved. "Stroke your clit, (Y/N). Nothing else." The expression that he had in his eyes was terrifying, yet exhilarating all the same.

"That's it, baby. I can feel your pussy getting tighter." He licked his bottom lip as he watched you stroke your clit in circular motions, while your cunt kept his cock warm.

You let your fingers swirl and circle once again, and Stephen stared at your face in silence for a few seconds at that time. You moaned and bit your lip, aware of your frustrating need to move your hips, to have him going in and out of your pussy, you could feel the orgasm starting to build up in your stomach.

"Please," You pleaded. "Stephen, daddy…"

He smirked, knowing that you were now very desperate after calling him, ‘Daddy,’ he had a solid grip on your head, his fingers curled so that they drove into your scalp, and he dragged it closer so that your foreheads were in contact with one another.

"Oh daddy, please." You whined but still kept touching yourself in front of him.

He was breathing fast as he watched you, but he didn't respond to your pleas.

"Stephen." You kept whining. You started to move your hips a little, tentatively lowering yourself over his cock. "I'm going to come." While he waited, his whole body was tense, and it was easy to sense it.

"Please," You pleaded again. "Please, Let me come. Please fuck me, Daddy."

He groaned and his hips moved before you even finished the request. They rose and fell in a rapid rhythm and you squealed and concentrated the motions of your fingers, chasing the spot that would start your orgasm. Stephen grasped your head firmly in both of his hands and kept it there. You could see the effort in his face, his arousal and expectation.

"Harder," You moaned and he thrusted so hard your knees left the bed.

He shifted suddenly, pushing you off him and you fell onto the bed, confused and frustrated—You'd been on the verge of coming, right on the edge and he'd stopped you, again. A half second later he was pushing your legs back toward your shoulders and bringing his cock to your entrance again.

He grabbed your hand and brought it back down between your legs. At the first touch, you felt your body tensing inside. You rolled and rubbed your clit as you peered up at Stephen's heated face.

"You like fucking like this huh? You freak," He said, his wild eyes on your cunt as he pushed forward, entering you. "God, you're so tight." He drew back and thrust again, making your legs jump.

"Oh God," You squealed. "Yes, Daddy. Fuck me, fuck my pussy."

You were thrilled by your own remarks, but the expression on his face as he braced himself and started to rock harder was unlike any other emotion you had ever seen. He brushed his palm over your cheek and neck before putting his fingers around your throat and squeezing. Even though there was just a little amount of pressure, you became tight out of alarm.

He didn't move his hand away and he didn't slow his thrusts.

"Stroke yourself again." There was an edge in his voice, an authoritative edge. You stared at him, unsure of what you felt or wanted, but you obeyed. You were almost startled by the sudden recurrence of the throbbing pain after your ecstasy. You swore and crushed your head back against the bed. You felt Stephen's grasp go a little tighter around your neck, and he made an enthusiastic moan while putting a little more power into his thrusts.

"So sexy," he growled. "So fucking sexy."

At that point, you were already shrieking and gasping, with your whole body tensing up in preparation for the release. Stephen's hold on your neck became more firm as he propelled himself forwards, groaning with each stroke. It was painful. However, you like the way it felt.

"I'm so close, so close," You panted.

"Come, baby.." He sounded almost angry, his voice full of force. "I want to feel you come. I want to feel your pussy squeezing my cock."

When you glanced at his face, which was filled with deep animal hunger, and felt the pleasure break. Stephen's hand released your throat, and you gasped, writhing and squirming beneath him as the intensity of his thrusts and your quaking pussy overwhelmed you. You heard yourself whimpering and locked eyes with Stephen. "Oh baby," he breathed. "Hmm. I feel you coming, baby."

As he kept himself within you while you were orgasming, his face contorted in a way that conveyed both pleasure and agony. He was holding himself in while you were having a climax.

"I'm going to come soon," He said. He started moving again, quickly returning to the pace and intensity of a few moments before. "Inside you," he gasped. "Inside your gorgeous little cunt." His jaw was set as he fucked you, using the bounce of the bed against the momentum of his thrusts to penetrate you deep and hard.

He suddenly shifted your legs, bringing your hips off the surface of the bed, driving his cock even deeper. His fingers dug into your hips, fingertips hard on your hip bones, and he filled you again and again, panting hard. He swore, and bucked forward, grabbing you violently. He buried himself deeply in you while moaning and throwing his head back as his thrusts abruptly slowed down.

"Oh God, argh—." You felt the tremble in his hips and the pulse at the entrance to your cunt as his cock jumped, spurting jet after jet of cum, filling you up.

It seemed as if he was coming for a very long time, pulsating inside you; then, a second later, he swooped down on you and kissed your lips. His kisses were passionate, breathy, and grateful all at the same time. You encircled his neck with your arms, shivering all over as the powerful release spread throughout your body.

He continued to kiss you over and again as he held you in his arms for a whole minute. His chest was hot against yours, and his heart was pounding. When he slid out from between your legs, he ran a gentle touch over your hip and thigh. As his breathing slowed, he slid onto his side and kissed you gently while he was there.

"Was I too rough? I didn't hurt you, did I?" He pressed his mouth to yours, looking at you with a familiar expression of concern.

You shook your head. "You didn't hurt me," You said, and realised it was true. A few times, you had been surprised and terrified, but even though there had been pain, it was nothing that would last for an extended period of time. In spite of your fear, you found that you loved it, even if his hard treatment and those brief minutes of control had caused your head to spin and your pussy pulse. "I loved it… but I think I wouldn’t be able to walk properly now." You admitted.

Stephen chuckled, “Don’t worry, I can carry you around the Sanctum.”

TAGS: @simp4fictional @praetorrara @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @elicheel @stanny-uwu @frostandflamesfanfic @jamiethenerdymonster @oakl3y @zdhunn @justsomecreaturewandering @soiopathicdetectivekid @fan-of-fic @levitationcloak @gaitwae @shit-post-things @seasonofthenerd @patbrdac @evelynrosestuff @singhfae @severuined @mischiefmanaged71 @farfromjustordinary @drstrangesgirl91 @spideyyhoe @lovecleastrange @samisubi @theactualroiana-m @mochuchi @faithinhome @ohchoices @junkertown-princess @sigyncevans @dragonqueen89 @the-royal-petals @hiddlechive @peachypie97 @ghost-lantern @sleutherclaw @the-mouse27 @zelspktr @bobateadaydreams @lykaonimagines @valbensherstep @strangeobsessed @calsjack @romanvffa, @hobimysolecito

#stephen strange #benedict cumberbatch imagine #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch x you #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange x you #doctor strange #doctor strange x reader #dr strange x reader #doctor strange smut #stephen strange smut

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girl-of-many-fandoms · 2 years

Text

Red Days

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Summary: Sherlock always knows.

Warnings: periods, slight mention of seggs

MASTERLIST

---

"Oh fuck off!"

Sherlock smiled to himself upon hearing his lovely girlfriend swear the fist thing Thursday morning. He knew exactly why she's upset in the bathroom and the the sound of her opening her trusty pad only backed up his guess.

Her period has begun.

"Good morning love, sleep well?" He folded the newspaper and put it off to the side as she emerged from their bathroom. Y/N crossed the floor and sat in his lap, curling up to the warmth that his body provided.

"Good morning and there wasn't much sleeping because somebody kept me up all night." Her lips pressed against his neck as she nuzzled into it.

"I wonder who that was?" His body shook with laughter as she playfully smacked his chest.

"How are you feeling, any cramps? I know how terrible they get for you." Y/N pulled back a bit to look into his baby blues with a surprised look on her face.

"What is it love?"

"You know."

"Of course I know. For the past week we've had sex multiple, multiple times, which you initiated. Your breasts are sensitive as they are heavier and fuller than they regularly are. You've been craving a whole lot of sweets plus you've been bloated for a couple days now, I chose not to bring it up. Oh and then there's the fact that I heard you opening your pad a short while ago." Sherlock winked at her knowing that he checked all the boxes with his observations. Y/N rolled her eyes at him and placed her face right back into the crook oh his neck.

"You, Sherlock Holmes, never cease to amaze me. What am I craving now? Since you seem to know everything."

"Strawberry cheesecake and cookies 'n cream ice cream."

"Screw you." He got it right again. Chuckling, the curly haired detective kissed her head, rubbing her back soothingly in the process. A shit eating grin plastered itself onto his face as he spoke his next words.

"You already did, many times in many positions."

"Sherlock!"

---

SH Taglist:

@sketch-and-write-lover @gaitwae

#sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock holmes x reader #bbc sherlock x reader #sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes fluff #benedict cumberbatch x y/n #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch imagine #benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch fluff

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wint3r-h3art · 2 years

Note

love ur theme, can we pls get a needy!strange humping u to wake u up in the middle of the night and then fucking u? bonus points if there's so much cum because it's been a while 😫😫😫

love ur writings <3

Midnight Snack | Stephen Strange x Reader

Warning: brain rot smut, consentual somnophilia (just to be safe 🫣), used of pet names (princess, baby, baby girl), daddy kink, masturbation, fingering, face-sitting, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, cowgirl position, doggy position, creampied, badly written smut

Word count: 1.9K

18 + ONLY | Minors DNI

A/N: I was planning to take a break so I can focus on my other requests, but…you got my attention at needy Strange 😫💦 Not my bestest, but if you do enjoyed this brain rot, comment and reblogs are really appreciated. And no beta either 😅

Doctor Strange Masterlist 🥀 Main Masterlist

***do not copy, translate or repost my works on other website or anywhere else

Nights like these were the ones that made you glad he woke you up.

“I’m sorry, princess,” came his baritone voice, rumbling like a gentle earthquake as his hips moved at a slow tantalizing pace. Strange was practically rubbing his shaft between the cleft of your ass cheeks, trying to sate the growing ache. His large palm roamed your stomach, pulling you till your back was flushed against him.

It was rare for Stephen to lose himself like this, especially allowing himself to lose whatever control he has left just so that he can have a good fucking. But who could blame him when he hasn’t seen you in two weeks. All the video calls and the little teasing coming from you just weren’t enough to sate his appetite.

Even if he was just fucking you not too long ago.

You murmured his name as you rubbed your ass against his bulge. This earned a loud hiss from him as your hand found his hips. Your pussy was practically throbbing to your own heartbeat as Strange was practically dry humping you. Now and then, you could feel his cock slip between your legs, and rub against your folds, covering himself with your slick.

“I just need you so badly, baby” he was mumbling again, lips brushing against the shell of your ear, hand squeezing your mound till you whined softly. The once silent bedroom filled with nothing but the sounds of your needy panting and the shifting of the bed.

“Hmm, how badly do you want me, daddy?” Your voice was still rough from still waking up from your sleep.

The word daddy seemed to stir something in him as his hand flew to the column of your neck, his fingers slowly curled around it just enough to make you gasp.

“Why don’t you find out for yourself, baby?” He pulls your hand back to palm him.

You let out a sharp exhale through your nose. He was so hard and so heavy for you that you could practically feel yourself clenching at the thought of being filled by him again. Strange’s breath wavered slightly every time you grazed at the soft sacs of his balls before you moved back up along the shaft.

Removing your hand from his hot and needy shaft, you rolled over to face him. Your hand found his cock once more. Grazing your finger over the slit, you could feel his pre-cum leaking out. Bringing your finger up, you made it a show for him by the way you were licking it. And to your satisfaction, you could see the way his nostrils flared out, watching you behaving this way.

“Mmm,” you looked at him under your lashes as you continued to pump him. “Twice in one night? Daddy really love spoiling me,” you said as your hand continued to stroke him, making his body stiffen even more.

Strange craved control. Even just a brief moment like this one where he allowed you to be in charge, a carnal part of him wanted to be the one that made you scream.

His lips pulled back into a snarl.

“I like to spoil what’s mine.”

The possessiveness in his tone only made you more excited as his hand was on the nape of your neck, pulling you closer till his lips found yours. He was devouring you like a hungry man with an endless appetite.

You gasped at the ferocity of the kiss. It was a hard and possessive kiss, the kind that made you know that you were his and his alone. Tongue plunged into yourself, licking and stroking every part of you, while his other hand trailed down to your warm, velvety heat.

You moaned into his kiss as you felt his fingers entering you, pumping them in and out with ease by how wet you were all ready for him. His thumb circled your clit, igniting a wave of pleasure that coursed through your veins.

Every inch of you buzzed with a newfound excitement as you parted your legs enough to give him room to do as he pleased. His pace quickened enough that you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head as you felt yourself inched closer to that release you crave so much.

“I’m gonna come,” you pleaded in breathless whispers as you rocked your hips against his fingers. Your inside was twisting and churning as your body melted under his touch. Anticipation seeped in your veins as the rapture drew near.

“Please, please, please,” you muttered, eyes clenched tightly. Your walls began to flutter and clenched around him till you burst. A wave of euphoria washed over you. Your body spasmed and strained under his touch as he continued to pump.

“Daddy, please. Need you,” you sobbed out, your hand holding onto his forearm. You could feel the way his muscles strained and corded with each movement.

“Not yet,” he muttered before pulling you up till you were seated right on his bare chest. Your pussy was practically pulsing at this point while your slick coated his skin in your wake. The warmness of his skin only melted you further while your body was still trying to recover from the last orgasm.

Your legs shuddered when you felt his rough palms stroking your back up and down till he slid his hands under your ass and suddenly pulled you forward till your drenching cunt was inches away from your face.

The sight before him made him salivate like a starved man. His piercing eyes glanced up to find yours watching him. Your heart was hammering in your chest in anticipation. A smirk quirked at the corner of his lips before he lifted you up and pulled you down right onto his mouth.

A yelp slipped past your lips at the way his tongue plunged into your drenching pussy with shallow penetration. His beard scratched the sensitive skin in the most delicious burn. Your hand flew to his hair, bunching it tightly while he was clasping on your thighs and holding you there.

His tongue delved into your dripping cunt with intent. He was worshiping you and sating his own desire at the same time. Every lick and every flicker of his tongue was meant to show you how much he desired you, yet at the same time, he was showing you that you were there to fulfill his need.

The sounds you two made were obscene, yet not a single moment did either of you care. Every now and then his nose would press against your clit, sending your nerve even more into a frenzy. He was being a menace at the way he was slurping and moaning, feeling so fucking ecstatic at the way your sticky sweet nectar tasted on his tongue while he was stroking himself.

Heat curled into the pit of your stomach. The pleasure was too much and too sudden all at once that your still sensitive body was still trying to process your last orgasm. You came with a strangled noise as your body spasmed, thighs clenching tightly around his head while his tongue was still lapping at your release, drinking you up till the very last drop.

Stephen finally pulled you down till you were seated on his chest. His hands were now fondling your breast, squeezing it before pinching slightly at your nipple. He was looking at you with a glaze over his eyes as desire still filled his veins. His cock was still hard and oh so aching to be delved into your cunt.

“Need to fuck you,” he muttered stroking himself. You watched the way the muscles of his jaws flickered and strained as the growing ache was matching to the beat of your heart again. “C’mon, sweetheart. Why do you be a good girl and ride daddy, hmm?”

You wanted to moan. It was as if he knew the effect he had on you when he dropped his voice an octave lower like that. Every part of you felt like it was set ablaze once more as you moved down till your pussy was practically inches from the pink bulbous head of his cock. Your eyes locked with his as you reached down with your shaky hand and grabbed his shaft to line it with your entrance.

Strange was holding your breath as he watched you intensely while you did the same, anticipating the way he would stretch you.

You both moaned in unison as you sank down onto his cock, sheathing him all the way to the base. Every part of you felt like it was set on fire as he stretched you so deliciously. Strange was straining beneath you, struggling at the way your warm, tightly cunt was squeezing him, and choking him.

“Fuck your little pussy is so tight, princess,” he muttered as he tried his hardest not to piston his hips forward and fuck you himself. His hands bunched into the sheet beneath till his knuckles turned white, clearly, he was struggling.

You began to move slowly, lifting yourself all the way up before sinking down again. And every time you sank onto him, you felt like you were about to cum by how deep his tip was hitting that one spot that drove you crazy.

You could hear him uttering a string of incoherent curse words before he pushed you off.

“On your hands and knees for me, baby girl. I won’t ask twice.”

You scrambled to do as you were told. Your breath hitched in your throat once more as you felt him lining himself against your entrance.

“Fuck, you made me lose my damn mind every time,” he muttered before he pushed himself in before he pulled himself all the way out again, then he pushed himself forward, this time all way in till he knocked all the air right out of you. He did this a couple of times before he began to set his own pace, slamming into you with a force that made your knees give out.

“Oh God, please. Daddy,” you begged as his hand flew to the back of your head, holding you there as he pounded into you. Hard. You could feel his balls slapped against your ass every time. And if it was even possible, every thrust felt harder than the last that all sounds seemed to knock right out of you.

This wasn’t about your pleasure anymore. This was his and his alone to claim you and to use you. His fingers dug into your scalp as his pace quickened and it wasn’t long till he exploded, filling you up till you were practically seeping with nothing but his essence.

You could feel him shuddering above you as he stayed there, strained and controlled almost impossibly still before you could feel him breathe again. The loud groaning almost sounded feral as he pulled back, watching the sticky white fluid leaking out of you and drip onto the mattress.

“Oh fuck,” he muttered before he rolled to lay on his back beside you, panting and exhausted. “Remind me again to not go this long without having you.”

You giggled beside him. “Babe, it was only a two-week conference. How would you survive if you had to go somewhere for months without me?”

Stephen groaned. “I’ll just combust when I see you.”

“I swear to God, Stephen. You are so dramatic, sometimes.”

“Only with you, princess,” he smirked before he leaned in and placed a kiss on your lips.

#wint3r h3art #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #stephen strange smut #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange x you #doctor strange smut #dr strange x reader #dr strange x you #dr strange smut #stephen strange imagine #doctor strange imagine #stephen strange #doctor strange #benedict cumberbatch smut #benedict cumberbatch imagine

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strangelockd · 7 months

Note

Hii!! How are u? 🥰

Could you write something with the prompts 7.“how mad would you be if i kissed you?” and 2.“my lipgloss is all over your lips.” from the fluff list with Stephen pls

Fates Embrace

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Pairing: Sinister Strange x FemReader

Summary: Your sick at the Sanctum and Stephen being poor with words tries to comfort you in his own special way leading to a much greater surprise.

•Im slowly chipping away at my requests and this one was so long overdue. I really tried keeping it fluff but i couldn’t help myself. There were many directions that this fic could have taken but I hope you love it. The story was inspired by Harry Styles and you can find the song on my Sinister Playlist•

“Sinister was fully convinced that if you tasted half as divine as the forbidden fruit of Eve, then he absolutely understood her succumb to the surrender of temptation”

You had been nauseous for days, and no amount of rest seemed to make it better. With a shaking hand, you reached for the bed pan, the cool porcelain a welcome contrast to your already warm skin. Setting the bed pan on the floor, you groaned, wiping the leftover vomit from your cheek. Yep you definitely were sick no doubt. Despite having everything you needed from herbal tea to nausea medication, Sinister still paced the room in a worry for your health; you are his world after all.

Leaning against the foot of the bed Sinister pawed the comforter on the four poster bed, “are you sure there's nothing else I can do for you my love,” eyeing you like a hawk he was seeking your gaze making sure you were not just playing the hero. Stephen could always see right through your poker face. Letting out a small hum you smiled reassuring him, “Babe relax, it's just a little bug. You as a doctor even said it's more than likely a common cold, trust me I will be fine in a few days.”

Sinisters chilled hands slowly slithered from the warmth of the blankets, searching for your feet, which were hidden under the many layers of blankets, “Yes yes I know my pet, it's just that I can’t help but worry for you so,” his grip tightened more around your ankles as if you would disappear like smoke. Sinister had always felt alone in the world, and he had never expected to find someone who could make him feel so connected and loved. He had believed that he could never be happy, but you knew deep down that Sinister was willing to do anything to keep you in his life. The thought of losing you was unbearable to him, and it felt like his own personal hell.

Seeing the worry laced in his eyes you shot him a comforting smile,“Stephen, trust me I'm not going anywhere. You know i'm with you forever in this life,” extending your arms outwards beckoning him to join you. Sinister for a second was taken aback; feeling a sudden warmth spread over him he couldn't help but grin, his heart swelled with your irrevocable love so much that he could burst. Letting out a soft contented sigh he couldn't help but feel unbrimmed joy for being so wanted by such a divine woman. For how could he say no to his queen, the very person he would sacrifice his own life for.

Kicking off the heavy boots they made a slight thump against the wooden floorboards as your husband manifested a beautiful purple indigo smoke. The smoke cascading around him as he opted to change into his comfiest pair of dark purple pajamas leaving you in awe. You have been with him for years and even doing basic things, Sinister was the pure definition of elegance and it bever failed to leave you breathless. Feeling the weight of his form shift on the mattress, Sinister slowly made his way across the burgundy comforter. He snuggled close to you, wrapping himself in the warmth of the covers sighing contentedly.

Sinisters scarred hands reached over to gently cup your jaw placing a delicate kiss to your forehead. He nuzzled his nose against yours adding softly, “…In this life. And the next my love. For I have crossed oceans of time to find you and I will never lose you,” his finger traced your cheek softly as his blue eyes searched yours, the sentiment making you blush a deeper red. Placing a hand above his you leaned in to his touch, batting your lashes softly you couldn't help but melt into his eyes that reflected your very own.

“And you'll always have me, Stephen Strange,” breathing in his scent you closed your eyes, “For my heart and soul are yours and yours alone,” breaking the gap Sinister leaned into your lips. The sudden connection made you moan as he traced your lower lip with his tongue tasting your skin. It was so hypnotic, so mesmerizing that you suddenly snapped back to reality pulling away not wanting him to catch your cold. Feeling your resistance his strong hands only pulled you flush to his chest.

“Babe, don’t! You'll catch whatever I got,” you protested. Sinister couldn't help but chuckle at your declaration.

“Darling, I'm a man with the power of gods. It will take more than a cold to stop me from adoring you”, feeling the brush of his goatee against your delicate earlobe. His lips were so close to yours that you could feel his heat radiating from them. His lips ghosted your collarbone, his breath sweet and warm as he continued to ghost across your soft skin, sending a shiver of pleasure through your body and a fire of desire awakening in your core. Cocking his head to the side Sinister gently pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger, eyes laced with mischief he had a better idea in mind.

“How mad would you be if I kissed that beautiful mouth of yours?” He smirked, taking note of your sudden tight grip on the crimson sheets. Hes such a fucking tease…

Pulling away once more in an attempt to resist, you looked into his eyes and you could clearly tell that all your husband wanted to do was to be there to make you feel good no matter what. “I dunno,” biting your lip you smirked, “why not find out.” The familiar feeling of his hands slithered against the back of your neck as he pulled you in slowly, kissing you once more he tasted the sweetness of your lips. The essence of strawberries sticking to his mind imprinted on his eidetic memory forever. He wanted to drown in you for the rest of his days. You both pulled away chuckling like a couple of school kids as his hands sought your face tracing your jawline, his breath welcoming against your soft delicate flesh.

“Delicious,” he cooed, giving your lower lip a gentle nip.

Damn him…

Sinister always brought you great joy even on days you were not at your best, times when you were sure he would leave after seeing your unsavory sides. You knew that deep down he would walk through fire for you, proving all too well his devotion time and time again leaving you with no doubts. Sinisters hands trailed down your curves resting at the slope of your hips guiding you to his lap. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his once more as his hands traced your thighs gripping them firmly. Pulling away to look into your eyes he smiled brushing your cheek with unbridled admiration.

“I love you y/n,” he proclaimed, palms giving a slight tremble, “you know that right?”

Your heart swelled at the profession of his words only for them to taper, it broke your heart knowing he was alone for so long and yet still felt uncertainty about your devotion. Years if self loathing convinced him that his blackened heart was too difficult to bear, that he was a burden and needed to hide from the light forever. But here you are loving it through all the dirt to bare something of a diamond underneath the crevice of his newly alivened heart.

Heart racing you leaned in kissing him deeper, showing him how much he truly means to you. His moans drowning all thought as you pulled away looking him in the eyes. “And I love you Stephen Strange. I always have,” nibbling his earlobe in return you felt his grip tighten. You were sure there would be mark’s later no doubt, but in the moment you couldn’t care less. He growled pulling you in for another kiss, taking note of your nightgown riding up your thighs he smirked suddenly flipping you to once more your backside.

“Stephen!” You cried feeling him slither down between your thighs taking note of what's below. Or lack thereof.

“Hmm no panties?” His eyes suddenly turning dark and piercing it shot right to your center causing you to involuntarily rock your hips against his goatee.

“Mmm ya,” giving a teasing smile, “Didn't feel like it,” flashing him a cheeky wink it only spurred him on more to dig into your needy heat inhaling your arousal.

“You naughty girl,” his voice laced with a husky desire as you felt the welcoming sensation of his fingers slipping deeper into your thighs. His fingers gliding between the folds of your heat as his thumb traced circles around your clit.

“Always so wet for me my pet,” slipping two fingers inside he watched as your body writhed against his touch, “and my cock isnt even inside you yet,” he teased, pumping his digits at a steady pace. Sinister watched in awe as he felt your pussy clamp down like a vice around his fingers.

“You're such a good girl. Do you know that? Do you know how beautiful you look coming undone by my hands?” His eyes glowed under the light as he watched on, your legs trembling. He felt them spread wider, practically welcoming him to feast upon you. You get off on the praise, and he knows it all too well. Your body arched and pebbled against his touch as if you were fabricated just for him. Your reaction alone was enough to make his stiffened cock ache between his trousers. The only thoughts going through his mind were mine mine mine…like a sacred prayer only for you.

“I adore you. Your absolutely beautiful,” he purred, pressing his face into you deeper he traced his tongue over your wet folds making you moan deeper only urging him to need more. Sinister wanted to drown in your essence for this was his paradise and his alone, you locked around him wanting to be entangled in this state for eternity. Swirling your clit in a figure eight his mouth continued its assault as he felt your climax grip around his digits, you were close and nothing felt more sweeter or divine than this very moment. You moaning for him and only him alone. Your fingers laced through his ravenous strands pushing him deeper as his hands reached up, ripping the straps off your gown to expose your perfect bare breast on display. His hands immediately seeking your exposed nipples, giving them a gentle twist. It was just enough to send you over the edge as his right hand continued pumping in and out of your throbbing cunt claiming him only tighter.

Sinister takinging in the staggered rise and fall of your breath he placed his hand on the flat of your stomach in an attempt to steady yourself. For a moment he felt something…a heartbeat. But it…it can't be? His heart fluttered and flipped all at once with the sudden possible realization but there was something more pressing that demanded his attention and that was you.

“Ste-Stephen I’m gonna!”

The echo of your pleasured moans suddenly snapping him back to reality. This is the only thing he ever wants to do, be lost in you. Devoting every waking moment to your pleasure.

“That's it! That's my girl,” His thumb pressing firm circles on your clit as his lips traced yours, “your so beautiful when you come”

Your mouth shot open in a silent scream as you arched off the mattress, your heat riding his digits as he finger fucked you through your orgasm. The curling of his hand making you see stars, he truly did have magic hands in more ways than one.

Sinisters mind suddenly shot to the thought of what he felt in the base of your tummy. Tracing his palm over his chest he instinctively placed the other over your lower tummy, your elbows propped you up as your heart fluttered when you casted your gaze upon your husband.

“Stephen? What's wrong?” You asked with bated breath.

“Nothing my love,” he spoke with promise, his gaze still fixated on your belly, “hold on and let me see here”

At first the sensation was warm as if being cloaked by a blanket fresh from the dryer. A soft purple glow emitted from your abdomen as you both witnessed what was clearly a little baby in your belly no more than 10 weeks. The motions of its little arms made tears form in your eyes. You couldn't believe it, and neither could Sinister but here you are in fact pregnant.

You traced his features taking note of his reaction, noticing the swell of tears in his eyes he sniffled looking up at you, “And I thought I've seen everything,” you brushed a stray strang away from his forehead; he couldn't help but grin wide.

Come to think of it It's not like safe sex was a part of your repertoire. You both were more shocked it just took this long to finally happen.

“You're not upset, are you Stephen?” Your heart filled with sudden rising dread at the silly question. The seconds felt like minutes as you waited on for your husband's answer.

Eyes widened he practically leapt forward his hands sought yours as he paused just a fraction from your lips. You couldn't help but feel the sudden thrill of it, his unbridled excitement and joy seemed to penetrate every cell of your body. The comfort of his large hands made you lean into his touch, you took a breath as he craned his neck down ensuring you met his gaze. The calm timber of his voice was slow and smooth like the sweetest of chocolate and all you wanted was to melt into him.

“Heavens no my sweet angel. I am beyond thrilled. For you have given me all the more reason for being alive, and I couldn't possibly love you more than in this moment.”

Hearing the soft sniffles he leaned forward nuzzling foreheads peppering you with kisses that spoke of promise, you just couldn't believe that you are with child. Instinctively you couldn't help but draw his palm forward over your bare belly once more, the soft purple glow emitting from his palm glowed once more revealing the miracle underneath leading Sinister to smile.

“So much for you being sick,” he chuckled, kissing you once more. Rubbing your belly softly you placed a hand above his, joining the three of you in unison.

“Seems like the doctor is getting a little rusty with diagnosing,” you teased, feeling him give a playful yet gentle shove so as to not hurt you or the baby.

You smiled leaning in, nestling your face against his. “Oh hush now kiss me once more”

For a moment, all was still and peaceful and you never wanted it to end. Wrapping his arms around your waist you took in the warmth and familiarity of him. With a contented sigh, he whispered, "I love you."

Tears rolled down your cheek as his thumb took the liberty of wiping them away gently. Your lips sought his as you mended once more into each other like the sand meets the sea. You've kissed many times but yet somehow it feels like your millionth and first all wrapped up in one. Sinister was fully convinced that if you tasted half as divine as the forbidden fruit of Eve, then he absolutely understood her succumb to the surrender of temptation. For nothing ever tasted so sweet.

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myveryownfanfiction · 2 months

Text

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery

warnings: swearing, argument, menstruation

Sherlock paced the flat, occasionally tapping away on his phone. I sat in John’s chair, curled up around myself as tightly as I could.

“Sherlock.” I said. He continued to ignore me. “Sherlock.” There was a raise of the eyebrow but he still continued to ignore me. “Sherlock Holmes!” He jolted and frowned as he turned to look at me.

“What? What could you possibly want that is more important than this case?” He asked, venom dripping from his voice.

“and what about that case is more important than your partner being in pain?” I shot back. Sherlock looked me over.

“I see nothing wrong with you.” Sherlock scoffed.

“of course you don’t.” I muttered, getting up and grabbing my coat. “You’re such a fucking machine that you can’t even tell when your partner is in the middle of their period.” I shrugged my coat on and opened the door. “When you get your shit together Sherlock, call me. Until then…” I shook my head and left. I could hear him calling for me but I ignored him. Mrs. Hudson came out of her flat and looked up as I came down the stairs.

“what’s all that yelling about?” She asked.

“Sherlock being a dumbass as usual.” I muttered as I paused in front of her. “He thinks the case is more important than whatever I have doing on right now so I’m going to leave him to his own devices until he can get his shit together.”

“John will be back soon. Maybe if you wait…” I shook my head and sighed.

“I can’t wait for John to come back. I’ll rip his head off while we wait.” I admitted. “And as pissed as I am at him, he doesn’t deserve it.” Mrs. Hudson rubbed my arm.

“be safe luv.” She said before letting me leave. I wandered the streets of London, grabbing fish and chips from queensway before taking the London eye. I watched a couple take a picture in front of the parliament building, kissing before giggling at each other. I smiled softly to myself, pulling my phone out of my pocket as it buzzed.

‘The case can wait. You’re more important to me than anything. Please come home -SH’

biting my lip, I texted Sherlock back. I explained that I was still pissed off at him and I would be back later. I didn’t receive a response so I pocketed my phone and continued to walk around the city. When I had reached whitechapel, I started to head down towards the Jack the Ripper museum. I paused when I saw Sherlock leaning against the building.

“Sherlock…” I said, looking around before stopping in front of him. “What…”

“I’ve been an idiot.” He said, reaching out to touch my arm. “You always come here when you’re pissed at me. Or life. You’re looking for something to help solve it. Why I don’t know but it’s admirable. The unsolvable case.” He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re admirable. Everything about you. And you are more important to me than any damn case.”

“glad you finally noticed.” I said, chuckling as I shook my head. “John knock some sense into you?”

“Mrs. Hudson.” Sherlock admitted. “And you. I didn’t realize that you were feeling like shit. For all my deduction and reasoning…I failed you.” Sherlock wrapped his arms around me. “I’m sorry. Really. How does going home sound?” I nodded, wrapping an arm around his waist as he turned to lead me back to baker street.

“strange to hear you apologize.” I mused as I laid my head on his shoulder. Sherlock hummed in agreement.

“Someone must have really knocked some sense into me then.” He teased. I smiled at him. Sherlock leaned down and pressed a kiss to my head. “If you ever need help solving that case…I’d be happy to help.”

“I think I’ve got this one.” I said, pausing and turning in his hold. “But thank you.” I leaned in and kissed Sherlock with the sun setting behind parliament.

#Sherlock holmes #sherlock Holmes x reader #sherlock Holmes fanfic #Sherlock Holmes fanfiction #Sherlock Holmes imagine #Sherlock x reader #sherlock fanfic #Sherlock fanfiction #sherlock imagine #benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch x reader #Benedict cumberbatch fanfic #Benedict cumberbatch fanfiction #Benedict cumberbatch imagine #Monthly series

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geeky-politics-46 · 2 years

Note

Headcannons for Doctor Strange and his crush having the "oops there's only one bed" thing happen (you did this to yourself with the last two posts :p)

I also have a request from @evelynrosestuff to make this one bed trope into a full story. So depending on how this little headcanon goes you may be getting a full story too.

It was supposed to be a solo vacation for you.

Time away from work (or magic/or the Avengers).

A ginormous room with a great romantic view and a huge bed.

Sure you were by yourself but a little solo romance is a good thing.

So you were less than thrilled when a giant monster showed up in the hotel pool.

It was the easiest for Stephen and Wong to take care of, with being able to portal and all.

It didn't take much time or difficulty for them to take care of the monster and there was hardly any damage.

Wong was quick to head back to Kamar-Taj having been mid-lesson when said monster showed up.

Stephen insisted on hanging around for a bit to make sure everyone and everything was under control.

Only there was one little problem when he went to portal back to the Sanctum. His sling ring was gone.

So without a way to portal back, Wong not answering the phone, & Cloak refusing to fly him all the way back he was left with no choice but to stay.

You practically burst out laughing when the snotty receptionist told you the hotel was completely booked, because of course it was.

After pouting and making him beg a little you finally caved and told Stephen He could stay with you.

Sure you only had one bed, but it was big and you could always make Cloak lay between you.

Turns out when Cloak doesn't want to do something, it's more stubborn than Stephen.

Cloak insisted on taking up residence on the couch in the living room area. The entire couch, & stealing the extra pillows for some reason. Basically the Cloak had a room to itself.

It wasn't until Stephen went to take a shower that he realized he had nothing go sleep in except for the robes he was wearing.

Luckily for him you may have "accidentally" stolen a pair of his sweatpants. So at least he didn't have to sleep naked.

You were wearing a loose large neck night shirt. The fabric was incredibly soft but a little thin. It fell mid-thigh & didn't leave much to the imagination. It was also the comfiest thing you had ever worn so screw it.

You were already under the covers when Stephen came out of the bathroom. His hair wet and tousled, with soft waves forming. Some water droplets falling & rolling down his sculpted chest & abdomen. They medium blue sweatpants sitting low on his hips.

Oh fuck, there's the outline of his cock. Jesus, if he's that big soft he must be massive when he's hard.

Oh god now you were picturing Stephen's cock hard… and in your hand… or your mouth.

Has he always looked so yummy? You find yourself squeezing your thighs together under the blanket hoping he won't notice.

How is it just now that you realized how long it had been since you had sex with someone, other than yourself.

As Stephen pulled back his side of the covers you started flipping through TV channels trying to distract yourself from the hunky sorcerer crawling in bed with you.

The sound of the TV must have aggravated Cloak as he quickly flew over and shut the door separating the rooms. Leaving you and Stephen all alone.

After about the third time you circled back to the menu channel Stephen tool the remote away from you and turned the TV off before leaning directly over you to put the remote on your nightstand.

He stopped as his face was still leaning close to yours, smiling when he felt you hold your breath, "Why don't we just go to bed?"

There had always been a little bit of a flirtation between the two of you, and at this moment the air was thick with tension as you laid there next to each other in the darkness.

Eventually you both managed to drift off to a decent sleep.

You woke up feeling warm but were met with resistance when you went to throw the blanket back.

You quickly realized that the warmth was coming from the sorcerer cuddled up against your back with his arm wrapped around your middle.

As you tried to wiggle loose your hips rocked back into his and you could help but gasp as you felt his cock hard against you. A groan pulled from his throat and he started to stir.

Stephen loosened his grip and let you wiggle away once he realized he was hard and you had definitely noticed.

He sat up and leaned his head into his hands, wiping his hands over his face to wake himself up as well as mentally scold himself. He assumed he had completely screwed things up now.

He was surprised when you didn't jump out of the bed and started yelling at him. Instead you just sat there next to him stating at your hands. Slightly ashamed at how turned on you were by the feeling of him hard and holding you.

You both started apologizing at the same time and generally becoming flustered dorks.

"I'm sorry" "Wait, why are you sorry?" "No, why are you sorry?"

Eventually you both started laughing, clearly realizing that you both may have feelings for each other.

You both slowly leaned in, you rested your hands on his shoulders and he rested his on your ribcage, eventually your lips met in a soft shy kiss.

After pulling back for just a second you both kissed each other harder.

Eventually you are the one that throws him down on the bed and moves to straddle him.

He laughs at how needy you seem to be for him.

You tell him that he can consider this an apology for ruining your romantic vacation, especially if he can make you cum.

He flips you onto your back as he pushes his sweatpants off. Never give this man a challenge if you don't mean it.

The two of you spend the whole night fooling around and having amazing sex, finally admitting your feelings for each other.

After only an hour or two of actual sleep, Cloakie bursts in and wakes you up together having ordered you breakfast in bed (used the TV room service option).

When it flies in and places the tray on the bed between you it also drops Stephen's sling ring on the tray.

Suddenly you two realize you were both set up by a nosey cloak who is now circled behind you encasing you both in a tight hug.

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

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newtsniffles · 2 years

Text

In the Middle of the Night | Stephen Strange x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Fem!Reader

Summary: When America has a nightmare, she enters your and Stephen's bedroom seeking comfort. This situation might finally convince your husband that having a family might not be so bad after all.

Warning/s: Not proof read, we die like Stark. Fluffy goodness. Female pronouns used.

Word count: approx 1k

You could admit wholeheartedly that the night was your favourite time of day. When the moon took over from the sun, illuminating the Sanctum in its otherworldly light. When the afternoon breeze transformed into a night-time chill, and the muffled sounds of people heading home to their beds and families sounded through the walls.

Now, that wasn’t the main reason though, definitely not. Night was your favourite in the rare, but recently more common occasion that your husband Stephen Strange would join you in bed. The dim light shone through sheer curtains, and Stephen’s godly complexion shimmered. His shirtless form, truly a sight to behold.

Your head nuzzled into his firm chest, his arms wrapped around you tightly, securing you in place. It was true he could no longer sleep soundly without you by his side. He had to be touching you in some way, whether you be in his arms, or on the summer nights when it was too hot, you would intertwine pinkies. You were quick to fall asleep whenever he was there, his entire being exuding comfort.

“Comfy?” Stephen chuckled as you shifted impossibly closer.

“Mm,” you hummed as sleep began to overtake you. He placed a soft kiss atop your head, as both of you were beckoned to the world of slumber.

“Stephen?” A voice sounded from the door. Strange used to be a heavy sleeper, but with the introduction of the mystic arts into his life, and his need to protect, that quickly changed. Even more so now that America had started staying at the Sanctum with him and his wife.

“What’s up?” Stephen’s voice was laced with sleep, gravelly and somehow even deeper than usual. But he was alert, this was unlike America. He shifted slightly, careful as to not wake you, his sleeping wife, but make it easier for him to see the teenage girl.

“I um, I had a nightmare and I just had to make sure you guys were okay.”

“Yeah, we’re okay, kid,” Stephen spoke in the softest voice he could muster. By this point, you had woken up. You had a few minutes ago actually but were waiting to see how things played out. Rolling over, Stephen moved his arm to wrap it around your shoulders, your head resting against the junction of his chest and shoulder. Laying eyes on America, you noticed how shaken she truly was. You would never be able to comprehend what that young girl has been through. You were actually the one to suggest to Stephen to let her stay, at least on weekends when she had a break from training at Kamar-Taj. You thought it be best for her. Considering Stephen, Wong, and yourself are really the only people she knows in this new universe.

“Come here,” you held your arms open for the young girl. She walked over with cautious steps before laying down, falling into your caring embrace. You ran a hand through her hair, while the other rubbed her back. “It’s okay, love. We’re safe, and you’re safe.”

In a selfish way, having America stay was also a way for you to get the taste of family life you so desperately craved. You had discussed children with Stephen, but he constantly changed the subject, saying it was ‘too dangerous in your line of work.’ Sure, it would give you something more to protect, but you would gladly step down from your role as Master of the Mystic Arts if it meant you could start a family with the man you love.

Stephen started down at you with eyes full of adoration and love. He, too, wished for a family with you, but was always second guessing himself. The fear that he would be a terrible father, or that something would happen to you and the children. The sight of you comforting America, holding her in your arms as she quietly sobbed. In that moment he knew, he wanted a family with you. It doesn’t matter how much extra work it is, how scary the thought of being a father is to him, it doesn’t matter that he would have an extra weakness. For you, for a family, he will give all he has got.

It took only ten minutes for America to calm down, settling in your arms. Sleep sung its soft lullaby to her, a soft smile on her lips as she fell into your comfort and love.

“Thanks, mum,” she spoke in a half-dazed state as slumber called her name, finally taking her into its grasp. With wide eyes, you turned to look up at Stephen. He moved his free arm to take your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your palm, a soft smile gracing his face. You hummed as leant down to kiss your lips gently, but passionately.

“Let’s start a family,” he whispered against your hair once you had turned back around, America shifting slightly. There was something about the domesticity of the current situation that brought out the softness within him. The yearning to love and be loved.

“You’re serious?” you swung your heard back around, groaning when a pain ran through your neck. Stephen smiled, nodding his head. Your hopeful eyes glistening in the moonlight.

“Serious,” he spoke, lips against your forehead. Every few moments, kissing you softly. “Besides, something about getting you pregnant turns me on,” Stephen smirks.

“Stephen!” You whisper-shout. “There is a child here!”

“She’s asleep,” he shrugs.

“I hope so.”

“Come on, it’s 4am,” Stephen tugs you tightly into his arms. “Let’s get some more sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you too.”

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alisonwritesimagines · 2 years

Text

One Happy Family ~Stephen Strange Imagine~

Summary: You and Stephen grow your little family a little more.

Author’s Note: So guess who started to simp over Stephen Strange because of his suit up scene in Multiverse of Madness.

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: spoilers for Multiverse of Madness. But yet again, it's been out for a while so if you haven't seen it yet, too bad.

Please do not post this anywhere!!!

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

Christine thought you were a heaven-sent and that you were a miracle for melting Stephen's cold heart. Though she loved him (now platonically) even she knew that the former surgeon had a cold heart and that his ego and pride got in the way of that. So when she saw the two of you together, she was happy for the two of you.

Now came her wedding to which both you and Stephen were invited.

"Do you wish to get married soon?" Stephen asked you.

"Yeah. But why rush?" You asked him.

"Well, I was blipped for five years and missed five years of Lila's life," Stephen told you.

Before Stephen had to do what was needed in order to save the world, he knew that you were pregnant before you even knew. It hurt him when he came back to see your five-year-old daughter by your side when he came back home. The two of you hadn't talked about marriage or kids but you two did enjoy what you both had.

Since she was Stephen's child, she inherited magic which she could do without the help of a sling ring. Wong, who luckily wasn't dusted, had helped Lila with her powers in the meantime before Stephen came back.

"I don't mind. But every girl does enjoy a nice proposal. Just don't do it at Christine's reception. We don't want to be those people," you tell him as you fixed his tie.

"I know."

"I'm ready?" Lila said as she rushed over to both you and Stephen. Stephen picked her up before kissing her cheek.

"You look beautiful. Like your mother," Stephen told her.

"Thank you, daddy. Can we see Auntie Christine now?" She asked.

"Yes come on."

After the wedding, Stephen watched you and Lila dance on the dance floor. Christine headed over to him by the bar and ordered herself a drink.

"She's a great woman," Christine tells Stephen.

"Yeah. She is."

"Are you happy?" Christine asked him.

"Yeah. I am," Stephen nodded.

"That's good. You deserve it," she told him before walking away.

Stephen quickly finished the rest of his drink before walking over towards you and your daughter. But before he could reach you two, a loud crash was heard from outside. He quickly walked over to the edge to see what was going on.

You picked up your daughter before walking over to see what was happening as well. Stephen looked over at you before kissing your forehead as well as Lila's.

"I'll see you when you get home?" You asked.

"Don't wait up on me," Stephen told you before getting his cape out and jumping off the balcony.

"Woah," Lila said as she watched her father rush over to the scene.

A week later, Stephen came back. But he wasn't alone.

"Honey, I'm home," Stephen called out. Lila used a portal to rush over to Stephen quicker.

"Daddy!" Lila said as she rushed over to him. Stephen picked her up before kissing her cheek.

"Lila! I told you no doing magic unless your father is nearby," you tell her.

"But he's back!" Lila defended. You walked over to see your husband with a teenager by his side.

"Hi. I didn't know we were expecting guests," you tell Stephen.

"I know but I will explain everything in a moment. Honey, this is America Chavez. America, this is my wife, Y/n, and our daughter, Lila," Stephen introduced.

"Hi," America waved a little.

"You both look tired. Come on. Let me show you to your room and you can rest a little. I think I have some clothes that might fit you," you tell America as you walked her over to her new room.

"I missed you, daddy," Lila said as she held onto Stephen.

"I missed you too. Come on. Let's go upstairs and we can take a nap together okay?" Stephen asked her.

"Okay."

As Stephen and America cleaned up and rested, you started on preparing dinner. You felt Stephen's arms wrapped around your waist before kissing your neck.

"How is she?" You asked him, referring to America.

"A little beat up but she's fine. Poor kid had it a little rough. She's been on her own for how long and lost her moms," Stephen told her.

"Are you saying we should adopt her?" You asked with a small smile. You looked up at Stephen who was thinking about what you just said.

"If you want to."

"I think it'll be good for America to have a normal life again."

"There's something else, I want to tell you," Stephen said.

"What is it?" You asked him. You turned off the stove and turned over towards him.

"I explored many multiverses and it made me realize something," Stephen said.

"What?"

"I don't want to be just your boyfriend or fiance. I want to be your husband. I want us to be together as a family together. And I mean a family, family. I want to wake up every morning, knowing that you're my wife. I want to die, knowing that at least I married you and that we had a successful life together," Stephen told you.

"Is this your way of proposing to me?" You asked with a smile.

"In a way. I can make it traditional if you'd like," Stephen told you.

"I don't care honestly. As long as I'm with you," you tell him before kissing him.

"I love you, in every universe," Stephen told you.

"I love you too. In every universe," you tell him before giving him another kiss.

#stephen strange #stephen strange imagine #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange x reader #benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch imagine #benedict cumberbatch x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #alisonwritesimagines

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daydreamtofiction · 8 months

Text

Thou Shalt Not Covet // 8: Penance

Contents | Part 7 | First Person Version [AO3]

Summary: (Priest!Benedict x Female Reader) "This was it. This was really happening."

Word Count: <4K

Warnings: Strong language, irreverence, dark humour, religious imagery, explicit sexual content from the outset. Smut: penetrative sex/unprotected sex, (some)dirty talk, other things I’m sure but it’s 4am and I’m tired. Readers must be 18+

Kissing him now was different than before.

In the church it had been desperate, chaotic, a deliverance from lust that served neither of you well. This time, though, there was no rage; no fury in his touch, no aggravation in your chest.

Your mouths moved, deep and slow, luxuriating in the taste of one another without the fear of interruption. You weaved your hands into the back of his hair, the silky, damp locks slipping between your fingers. His lips parted against yours, a heavy breath escaping him as you tugged his head back gently, like a hot, satisfied sigh of relief. You wondered how long he'd been starving himself of this intimacy, how someone who kissed like this would ever have the strength to abstain.

His tongue swept into your mouth, so fluid yet dominant in its invasion. You revelled in the taste of him; the cigarette he'd smoked, the whiskey he'd drank at the party, the intoxicating warmth of his breath. This was the same tongue that spoke to god, that gave sermons in church and preached of chastity, now gliding against yours in a sinful union, inciting feelings within you that he'd so adamantly condemned.

You moaned softly against his lips, pressing your body harder against him. His damp clothes were cold now, making you shiver as the rainwater seeped through to your chest. Your nipples began to harden in response, sending jolts of prickly pleasure to your core with every brush against them.

His hands skimmed up your back, the sensitivity of his touch lost against the thick material of your jumper. You wanted him to delve beneath it, craved the warmth of his large palms splayed across your flesh. But his movements were unhurried, and you weren't sure if it was out of reverence or doubt. But then he rolled his hips beneath you, pressing a straining erection up against your centre, and it definitely didn't feel like doubt.

There was a part of you that was surprised to find him so hard, eager, aching to break out of his confines and sink between your legs. But the other part of you knew; from the moment you met him he seemed to know exactly how to burrow straight to the core of you. To delve beyond the awkwardly timed jokes and resigned disposition to the place where it all made sense. Where you made sense. It was like he belonged within the very depths of you, and he wanted to be there. You wanted him there. Mind and body.

The feeling was torturous; the friction, the pressure, the connection stifled by layers of clothing and his forbearing restraint.

"Touch me," you whispered against his lips.

"I am touching you."

"No, touch me." You reached back and gripped his wrists, attempting to guide him beneath the jumper.

He closed his eyes and let out a growling sigh. It made you halt, leaning back slightly to look into his eyes.

"Please don't hate me."

"Why would I hate you?" he replied.

"I don't know. You just seem... angry."

"I'm not angry, Ellis. I'm devastated." He moved his large hands to frame your face, thumbs on your cheeks, fingers curved around the back of your neck behind your ears. "You have... devastated me."

A breath caught softly in your throat, your voice barely audible as you muttered. "I'm sorry."

"No you're not."

He returned his mouth to yours and you gasped at the newfound fervour in his kiss. Sharp teeth nipped at your bottom lip, his tongue less gentle in its assault. He said you weren't really sorry, and perhaps that was true; a sorry person would have stopped him, spared him, absolved him of his sins before they burgeoned beyond forgivable. But instead you let him kiss and bite and lick at your parted lips, hummed in approval as he brought his hands to your bare thighs - fingertips bruising in their rough grasp - and bore down against the hard bulge beneath his trousers.

There was a fire deep in your core, flames licking and dancing as they swept through your body. Your skin puckered with heat, every touch searing, every kiss and ragged breath drawing the blaze closer to the surface. You had never wanted someone this desperately before, never been so aroused that you could feel it tingling in your scalp, surging in your stomach and pooling between your legs as your clit pulsated with need.

You dragged the jumper over your head, turning it inside out as you impatiently peeled it from your body and threw it to the ground beside the couch. For three years, no one had seen you naked except Alfie, and there was a comfort that came with that. He'd already acquainted himself with the curves and blemishes of your body, the parts you liked and didn't. He'd seen the scar from an old bellybutton piercing, traced his fingers over the stretch marks on your hips. You never had to fear exposing yourself to him. Most of the time you never even had to; his eagerness to shove inside you completely outweighing his desire to fully undress.

For weeks you'd opened your legs for him, closed your eyes as he clumsily thrust into your body and imagined Father Benedict there instead. You would sink into a world of steepled ceilings and stained glass, dark curls and white collars. But when it was over, you would open your eyes and be back in the house - Gina's house - with Alfie's satisfied smile gleaming down at you.

But this time, Father Benedict wasn't a fantasy, and those piercing blue eyes were actually there, trailing over you in silence. You suddenly became very aware that you'd revealed yourself to him; bare chest, uncovered stomach, dips and contours and textures and curves, parts of you that had belonged solely to someone else for the last three years. A shyness washed over you, the urge to wrap your arms around yourself and hide. But as his gaze raked over your body, hands gliding slowly up your sides, you stilled.

A heavy breath fell from his parted lips, the exhale rattling with a soft growl. "Forgive me, Father," he muttered, his voice so low it was barely audible.

You couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic, or if he really was speaking to God; begging for mercy before he'd even taken a bite of the forbidden fruit.

He leaned forward, placing a kiss on your collarbone as his fingers dug into your hips. Your head fell back instinctively, opening yourself up to him, eyes closing as the warmth of his tongue trailed up to your neck. A shiver ran through you like static, raising goosebumps and tightening your nipples into painful, hard pearls. He hadn't spoken directly to you, and yet somehow every insecurity you had began to melt, dripping from your centre in wet, hot desire.

You took his hair in fistfuls as he traipsed kisses down your chest, teeth grazing over the soft flesh of each breast before pausing suddenly. You opened your eyes and brought your head forward, looking down to find him leaning back to examine you curiously.

"Are these bruises?" he asked.

You glanced down at yourself; the motley of reds, purples and browns marring your breasts.

"Love bites," you replied quietly, simply.

He glared up at you, half-lidded, jaw sharp.

"Does it bother you?" you asked.

"The evidence of another man's mouth all over you?"

"So it does?"

He didn't respond, his silence confirming your suspicion.

"Why?" you whispered.

"Because I know he didn't deserve the privilege."

You felt his words spark the nerves in your clit, like the striking of a match. You rolled your hips slightly, trying to ease the sudden ache. "Are you saying you do?"

"No." His tone darkened as he looked up at you. "But I plan to earn it."

You didn't know what you were expecting him to say. But it definitely wasn't that. It made you wish you could see yourself through his eyes - a woman he had to earn. You leant forward and swept him into another kiss; so overcome with need and adulation, the feeling of being desired and appreciated almost as arousing as his lips on your bare skin. He returned your kiss, just for a moment, before bringing a hand to your face, gripping your cheeks between finger and thumb to peel you away.

"After tonight, no one will ever touch you again unless they're worthy of you," he said, his voice so quiet and serious, lips grazing yours as he spoke. "Will you promise me that?"

You nodded, as much as his grasp on your face would allow.

He eased his grip, seemingly satisfied with your response, and allowed you to melt into him again. You fumbled for the buttons on his shirt as you kissed him, popping them open one by one until you reached the collar. It seemed wrong for you to take it off. Even now as you sat straddling him, half naked and panting heavily, that strip of white plastic around his neck was like armour, an impenetrable shield, blasphemous to remove.

"Go ahead," he said quietly, as if sensing your apprehension. "It just snaps off."

"You don't want to do it yourself?"

He closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Just do it."

You pulled at it with shaking fingers but it didn't budge. With a slight huff you tried again, harder, hearing two quick pops, a heavy exhale from his lips. You slid it out, eyes fixed on his as you dropped it to the ground - his commitment relinquished, abandoned, discarded into the puddle of your jumper on the floor.

He undid the last few buttons himself before placing his hands around your waist, silently granting permission for you to peel the shirt back from his body and reveal the smooth, cold skin beneath it. You lay your palms on his chest, dragging them slowly down his torso as you admired the sight, the feel, how he expanded with every breath, tensed with the tickle of your fingers. Some parts of him were soft, tender, malleable beneath your touch. Others were hard and robust, broader than you expected them to be. This person wasn't a dream, wasn't a character or a myth. This was a man.

His throat bobbed with a deep swallow as you leant forward and placed a kiss on his chest, his hold on you tightening, body turning rigid beneath you. You trailed your lips up to his neck, revelling in the taste of him; salt and earth, soap and faded aftershave.

"Tell me about the fantasies," he whispered through a serrated breath.

"What do you mean?"

"I want to know what you pictured when you thought of me."

You paused before moving your mouth up to his jaw, kissing along the sharp edge, the slightest brush of stubble beginning to surface.

"I'll tell you what I was thinking about today in my office," he wagered.

You thought about it for a moment. "Okay. You first."

"I was thinking about you kneeling for communion at the altar." He turned his head, his deep, gravelly voice pouring straight into your ear. "With my cock down your throat."

You gasped gently as a rush of warmth flooded your core, making you roll your hips to ride the sudden, intense wave.

"You give sermons with that mouth, Father," you said softly, voice trembling despite your attempt to sound playful.

His hands glided up and down your back, nails grazing lightly over your goose-bumped flesh. "Now you."

"I never really thought of a specific scene. It's just... always you. But-" you cut yourself off, inhaling the words back into your lungs before they even had the chance to escape.

"But?"

You lifted your head to look at him. "One thing always stays the same."

"And that is?"

"You're never... Gentle."

He buckled beneath you, closing his eyes and letting his head fall against the back of the couch, a stifled groan resonating in the base of his throat. "Hot, fiery Hell," he growled, pushing himself up between your legs.

He felt big; his cock firm and straining as it surged against your sheathed entrance. You wanted to release it, hold it in your hands, run your tongue along every inch. You wanted to acquaint the curl of your fingers with its girth, stroke, grip, tease, watch it sink gradually inside you until there was nothing left of it. For the longest time, sex had been a chore; Alfie's penis a jabbing, graceless thing that prodded around but never truly satisfied. You'd forgotten what it was like to truly crave the intrusion, to feel yourself lubricated and ready before you'd even fully undressed.

He weaved a hand through you hair, wrenching you towards him and swallowing you in another heady, desperate kiss. The other hand slid beneath the rumpled fabric of your boxers, tracing his fingers back and forth over the crease where thigh met hip. You willed him to move further inward, mewling with every almost-touch until the sensation became unbearable. You'd waited so long for this; sat through so many sermons, suffered the ache of uncomfortable pews and unsafe bus rides, the suspicious glare of church volunteers and the boredom of those fucking support groups. It was time to embrace where it had led you to.

You were his penance, but he was your reward.

You reached down and began working to unfasten his trousers, battling with the complicated fly until it finally opened. He came undone with it, breathing a hot sigh into your mouth as you stroked and caressed him through his underwear. He steered his fingers over the junction of your bikini line and you gasped as they slipped easily through your wet folds, gliding back and forth before settling on your clit.

He gave a proud hum as he rolled the pad of his thumb over the tender bud, rousing a storm in your core; sparks of lightning and deep, undulating thunder. You moaned softly, grip tightening around the outline of his rigid length. A shiver rippled through you, making your legs shake, hips bucking involuntarily and pushing you harder against his touch.

Maintaining the pressure on your clit, he moved his other hand to the waistband of your boxers - his boxers, now drenched in the evidence of your desire - silently instructing you to take them off. But you didn't want to leave him, even for a moment. Scared that your brief separation would bring him clarity, grant him just enough time to change his mind. You pressed your forehead to his as you lingered there, staring down into his eyes and searching for doubt in the flecks of his irises.

He removed his hands from you completely - the loss of contact turning the pleasure to a heavy, mournful ache - and tugged at the crumpled material around your waist.

"Ellis," he growled.

You gave in and climbed off him, the weight of your movements inciting a stifled groan in his chest. And in the time it took the boxers to fall to the ground, you were back on his lap, bare pussy grinding against the rough fabric of his trousers; buttons and open fly, the Y-shaped seam of his underwear and confined curve of his cock.

Was God here right now? Spying from the corner of the room like some omniscient voyeur? You'd never been one for exhibitionism. But there was a strange power that came with the thought of your naked body shrouded in a celestial gaze, deities forced to watch but unable to intervene.

You felt Father Benedict shift a hand beneath you, shucking his trousers further down his hips and fisting at his underwear. His cock sprung free against your ass, firm and heavy as it settle along the groove between your cheeks. Your breath turned shallow at the mere thought of having him inside you, a deep shiver rippling through your core like a prophecy of that first thrust.

You lifted yourself slightly, enough for him to reach down and grip the base of his cock, gliding the engorged head through the slick between your legs. He was eager, impatient - maybe he was scared of changing his mind too.

"Are you sure about this?" you whispered, shivering as you felt him prodding against your entrance.

His gaze darkened, like a crisp blue sky in the onset of a storm, and in one smooth, firm slide, he entered you. A sound poured out of you that you'd never heard yourself make before; shock, relief, pleasure, all at once. You marvelled at the stretching sensation, the way your body welcomed every inch of his cock with such ease, your inner walls flexing and moulding around the thick veins and hard ridges as it filled you to the very depths.

His eyes clamped shut, the muscle in his jaw pulsating as he fought to maintain his composure. "I haven't been sure about anything since the moment I met you," he finally replied.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to the dimple at the corner of his mouth, trying to soothe the tension he was storing there. You draped your arms around his shoulders and let your chest fall against his, running your fingers through the back of his hair, the curls that fell over the nape of his neck.

This was it. This was really happening.

For the longest time you'd felt incomplete; a collection of empty spaces and uncharted lands, voids too deep and complex for anyone to explore, even you. But in the short time you'd known Father Benedict, he'd somehow managed to journey to the very centre of those places, laid down roots and watched them flourish, as swift and besieging as English ivy on fractured stone. Perhaps that was why this felt so right; because the hollows of your body were already his to pervade.

He was bigger than Alfie; thicker, longer, the snug fit stealing the air from your lungs as you relaxed against him. No man had ever filled you this completely; flooding your pelvis with a warm, tense pressure before he'd even moved a muscle. You rolled your hips, testing the feel of him, and gasped quietly as electricity surged through your belly.

A deep, husky groan dripped into your ear, long fingers and large palms skimming up your thighs and settling on your waist with a clawing grasp. His voice sent a chill across your skin, even the finest hairs bristling in response.

"Ellis," he rumbled. "I'm really trying not to lose my composure."

You kissed him softly, allowing another slow, controlled rotation. His voice rattled in the back of his throat, nails pressing half-moons into the dips of your waist. There was something charming in his restraint; how even in this moment, with his cock buried inside you, he was still trying to maintain his civility.

You tightened your hold on his hair, deepening the connection until you were nothing but a blur of sweeping tongues and hot, heavy breaths. His body trembled beneath you as you gradually began to move, hips grinding and rotating to the rhythm of your kisses, punctuating each slide of his length with a soft, desperate whimper.

A divine friction resonated in your core; his cock a rigid, firm stave, your pussy a soft, pliant sheath, moving together in both harmony and dissonance, like the trill of a choir. With every upstroke, your nipples grazed his open shirt, and when you bore down, an electric current hummed in your clit.

"Fuck." The word stuck between your teeth before escaping in a sigh.

His hands caressed your back, the wide span of his fingers leaving no part of you untouched; squeezing, prodding, tickling, each stroke perfectly in tune with the motion of your hips. You rested your forehead in the crook of his neck, the feeling of his collar against your cheek making you realise he hadn't undressed. Not really. You'd stripped bare for him, offered your unclad body like a tribute for him to bask in. You were a creature of desire, his Mary Magdalene, completely devoted to serve.

You felt your thighs growing tired, sore and shaking, a heavy burn smouldering in your muscles. You relaxed your pace, dropping your full weight into his lap as you slowed your movements to a lazy grind. The new sensation made you moan softly against his skin, savouring the longer, deeper slides, the crown of his cock sinking right down to your soul.

His head fell back, a swallow thrumming down his throat. "My god," he groaned.

A smile pulled at your cheeks, the lord's name in vain so delicious whenever it came from him. And this one was your fault; your body guiding him to commit sin after glorious sin. You placed a kiss on his neck, seizing a moment of boldness by taking the skin into your mouth and drawing a bruise to the surface.

You half expected him to push you away, chastise you for marking him in a place he'd struggle to hide. But instead you felt his arms flex around you, thighs tensing as he moved to plant his feet firmly on the ground. A jolt of spine-tingling pleasure burst through you as he thrust to meet the languid roll of your hips, turning what was supposed to be a smooth, relaxed gyration into a hard, forceful collision. Your mouth fell open, a dazed cry falling from your parted lips.

He growled softly in response, his control waning.

Your pussy tensed around his cock as he slammed into you again, every ridge and groove of your inner walls melding to embrace him. He brought a hand to your face, drawing you into another fevered, hungry kiss. You obliged obediently, as though you were his to use, a disciple eager to please.

You hummed and groaned against his lips with every pump of his cock, the couch creaking beneath the weight of your union, his hand welded to the back of your head, the other on your backside directing your movements. He was driving you towards completion, filling you with a heat and pressure that grew stronger with every stroke. The feeling continued to swell, expanding deep in your stomach until it was dancing along your nerves; setting you alight.

You'd gotten used to not finishing. Alfie's premature climaxes so normalised that you no longer even protested the stuttering hips and garbled moans. Men came. Sometimes you did too, usually alone with your fingers after they rolled off you and went to sleep. But even in the times you did orgasm, it never felt like this.

Your entire body shuddered, cells exploding and stitching themselves back together again. There was a throbbing in your clit, an ache in your core, the brushing of his cock inside you so sensitive you could no longer tell the difference between pleasure and pain.

He kept your head up with his hand, forcing you to look at him as you rode out every last wave, the aftershocks causing your walls to clench around his cock, coaxing him to his own release. He came soon after with a deep, guttural groan, sinking right down to the root as he flooded you with his seed.

You sat breathless on his lap, still joined to him as he began to soften inside you, his eyes so dark it was like staring into the night sky. If this really was what damnation looked like, then you would happily burn for an eternity.

*If you would like to be tagged in the next chapter, please leave a comment below, or feel free to add yourself to the list here

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little-diable · 10 months

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I’ve decided to add a collection of my smutty professor fics, since this list will definitely keep on growing. Please remember that I am not allowing you to edit or copy those fics to other platforms.

Professor Aaron Hotchner

Profiling 101 (Series, Prof!Hotchner)

The reader enrolls in professor Hotchner's class "Profiling 101", a man she has always looked up to, a man who treats her like an asshole from day one. Will her need for academic validation manage to push the two closer together? Will her bright mind push her into the world of Aaron Hotchner and the BAU team? Will he manage to keep his distance before the world he tries to protect her from can get its grasp on her?

Professor Tom Holland

Tides of Drowned Affections (fake dating, smut)

The reader has never been close with her family, but when she's ordered to come home for her sister's wedding, (y/n) is in need of a helping hand. Or: When a panic attack is the reason Professor Holland takes on the role of the reader's boyfriend.

Distraction (smut)

After years of being professor Holland’s student, the reader finally finishes her studies and joins the team as a young professor – allowing the two to finally give into their teasing.

The Painting (smut)

Professor Holland takes his students on a trip, exploring art galleries, admiring paintings he can barely spare any attention to, mind fully focused on her, the student he found himself. drawn to like a moth to a flame

2am Texts (smut)

An unknown number texts Tom in the middle of the night, forcing his attention away from grading his stack of exams. And somehow he finds himself obsessed with the stranger that keeps holding contact with him.

Lovers like Orpheus and Eurydice (smut)

Professor Holland hates the reader, and she hates him. But when she applies for the position as his TA, things start to change and somewhere along the way - between an argument and spending the night together - they fall for one another.

Professor Tom Riddle

All to myself (smut)

Another student tries to touch the reader, so Professor Riddle has to remind his TA that she is his, only his. Pwp

Professor Benedict Cumberbatch

Summer Retreat (smut)

Mean prof!Benedict and the reader are forced to cross paths on their vacation, the vacation he used to read her dissertation.

Lucky Shirt (smut)

Professor Cumberbatch was perfect. He was sweet, supportive, ever-willing to help. He was attentive and loved to praise your achievements. It came to no surprise that you had ended up trying and succeeding at becoming his favourite student. The two of you had become an unstoppable duo, however, could there be more than mere passion for academia behind it?

Abide by my rules (smut)

Professor Cumberbatch can’t quite stop thinking about the most mediocre and obnoxious student he has ever had to supervise.

The secrets our notes tell (smut)

The reader had always crushed on professor Cumberbatch, the man that treated her without any kindness dripping from his words, clearly signaling his annoyance with the woman. And yet, both are forced to work together, but perhaps he’s the reason for that forming teamwork after all.

Tea and Cologne don’t mix (smut)

Professor Cumberbatch has always admired the reader’s intelligence and as she joins him as his new TA it doesn’t take long for them to give into the pull they feel inside their burning systems.

Professor Tommy Shelby

Drunken Longings and Sober Actions (modern!prof!Tommy, smut)

The reader takes on the position of Professor Shelby's assistant, the man who is also the advisor of her PhD thesis. How long can the two endure to be around one another before they finally give into their longing?

The Book Thief (modern!prof!Tommy, smut)

Professor Shelby is taking his students on a trip, a trip that ends up with his book stolen by the reader – perhaps this is what they’ve needed to finally get closer.

The Vote -Professor!Tommy (smut)

Another vote is coming up, allowing the students to pick their favorite professor. He would always win, leaving her behind on 2nd place, but she’s determined to win this year. But Tommy is determined himself, though not about winning, but about finally pulling her in.

Sharp Like Tybalt’s Blade (Professor Tommy, smut)

Professor Shelby and the reader fuck in his office.

Professor Carlisle Cullen

Ruin Me (prof!Carlisle smut)

Professor Cullen eats the reader out after coming clean with his feelings.

Teaching Assistant (prof!Carlisle smut)

This is basically pwp, the reader helps Carlisle grade some essays and they fuck.

Professor Draco Malfoy

Professor Malfoy (smut)

The reader works as Professor Malfoy's TA, a man she had been crushing on ever since meeting him at Hogwarts all these years ago; but kind of just pwp

Hate Me - Professor x Professor (smut)

(Y/n) had always hated Draco, or at least that’s what she likes to tell herself. But now they have to share a classroom, teaching a lesson together, forcing the two to cooperate.

Darkness Whispers To Us (smut)

Plain porn, they fuck in his classroom

Professor Damon Salvatore / Klaus Mikaelson

Just A Dream - Prof!Klaus x fem!reader x Prof!Damon (smut)

Maybe she shouldn’t have told her friends about the things she’d like to experience with her two hot professors. But maybe it was time for her dream to become real

Professor Loki

On My Mind (professor x student smut)

The reader drunk texts her hot professor - who is awfully delighted by the picture she has messaged him. Perhaps (y/n)’s drunken self didn’t embarrass herself as much as she had feared.

Beautiful like Halley‘s Comet - Prof!Loki (smut)

Professor Laufeyson saves the reader from her ex-boyfriend, followed by some filthy smut in his classroom.

#professor fic #Tom Holland smut #benedict cumberbatch imagine #Carlisle Cullen smut #Klaus Mikaelson smut

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brunchable · 2 years

Text

All I Ask - Part 1 || Stephen Strange x Reader

Word count: 2.7K

Warning: References to Multiverse of Madness. Angst.

A/N: This is my first time writing, so please take it easy on me. This imagine has been inspired by All I ask by Adele and Arcade by Duncan Laurence (ft. FLETCHER).

PART II // PART III ***Strictly do not: claim, repost, copy, translate my stories anywhere else***

You blankly stared at your reflection as you wore a pair of diamond earrings, it was the very first gift Stephen has given you. There's a lot of things running in your mind; Stephen's unresolved feelings for Christine being the centre of it. It was her wedding day today and you've been invited considering the fact that you're a close friend at work. You straightened yourself up with a sigh, feeling that your beauty is inadequate compared to Christine.

"You look beautiful." Stephen's silky deep voice whispered against your ear before giving you a tender kiss on your temple. His slender, yet scarred hands rested on the curves of your waist.

Stephen's sudden appearance startled you, the mini heart attack causing you to clutch the centre of your chest, "Damn it, Stephen! Will you stop creeping up on me like that? Dating a wizard should come with a warning."

Stephen gave you an offended look through your reflections, stepping away to sit on the edge of your bed, "Uh No, correction, you're dating sorcerer, wizards wear hats and use wands, lame."

"Mhm, and I guess the warnings for Doctor Strange come after you've been bagged right?" You chuckled, reaching for your sweet perfume that Stephen goes nuts for and sprayed it on your wrist then dabbing it behind your ears.

"Are you seriously comparing me with spell books?" His brows raised, feeling a hint of an edginess in your attitude, which he decides to ignore. He was reading this situation as banter.

You remained quiet, because for you, your question had two meanings; one was about his use of magic and two, you know that he is not over Christine. You didn’t know how you hadn't noticed from the very start when all the signs were clear as day. Stephen still wears that damned busted watch, there is sorrow in his eyes when she becomes the subject of conversation, the way he lights up when he talks to her and the way he looks at her.

You searched for those behaviors whenever you're together and by the time you realized he was never going to look at you the same way, you were already in too deep, you didn't have the guts to say anything because you're scared of losing him. You decided that you will wait for him quietly, but it’s been one year and you're close to snapping. You're a ticking time bomb.

•••

You admired the decorations inside the church while you and Stephen sat waiting for the ceremony to start. Doctor West was chatting with Stephen and you quietly eavesdropped on their conversation. The man seemed consumed by grief as he talked about his brother and cats, asking Stephen if there had been another way, "... and still you didn't get the girl." Doctor West said.

Ouch. Was it really necessary to be so brutal? You thought and grimaced.

Stephen adjusted his tie on Doctor West's comment, you could feel that he was hurt by it even though his face remained expressionless. He wasn't the only one who got emotionally damaged though. You clutched onto your dress looking elsewhere but Stephen.

Music began and all the guests stood up as Christine prepared to walk herself down the aisle. She looked immaculate in her white dress, her eyes focused on her soon-to-be-husband as she graciously made her way to the altar.

You turned your body slightly to look at Stephen behind you and there it was again, that longing look, it was obvious that he had tunnel vision towards the bride since he didn't even notice you looking at him. Why am I not surprised? You caught Doctor West's gaze for a split second with water welling in your eyes, as Stephen was fixated on Christine who was fixated on the groom. You quickly turned and wiped them away before they fell, only then Stephen came to his senses, "(Y/N) are you alright?"

You cleared your throat before talking, afraid that your voice might crack,"Yeah I'm fine, weddings y'know? They're a real tear jerker." You lied and laughed it off. You felt his hand cover your smaller ones, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand as consolation. You sat frozen on your seat for the rest of the ceremony, too afraid to look up at Stephen, too afraid that your cup of emotions might overflow.

"Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace." The Pastor asked the guests. Stephen squeezed your hand, his jaw clenched as if prohibiting himself to speak. This man, he is in love with someone else, if this wasn't enough proof then you don't know what is.

•••

You decided to separate from Stephen for a while during the reception, you were feeling a range of negative emotions that you needed to suppress. You hid it well towards your friends and colleagues, you weren’t so sure if you would be able to hide it from Stephen any longer, that's why you needed to remove yourself from his presence.

Stephen hung out at the bar drinking a martini after another round of failing to find you. Christine cleared her throat as she approached the bar where Stephen stood, "A glass of red please." She smiled at the bartender.

You glanced towards their direction from time to time as you caught up with your colleagues, chugging your cocktail and grabbing another from a server that offered. You watched your lover turn water into wine, a sardonic laugh managed to slip from your lips.

Juliet, your work bestie, followed the direction you were looking at and gave you a look, "I warned you from the start girl."

"I know, I know, I was too blind to see that he probably just kept me around to fill in that black hole, he calls his heart." As much as you hated to say it, you did, you downed another glass and grabbed a glass of champagne this time, "Jeeze, I'm so pathetic, what was I thinking I got something that Christine doesn't?" You laughed at yourself, watching Stephen stopping Christine from walking away.

"Don't say that! You are not pathetic. Stupid and blinded? Yes. All you need to do now is to follow your head this time babe." Juliet rubbed the side of your arm, glancing at the other two.

"I want to know what they're talking about." You darted towards the pair, at the same time you made sure that you weren't spotted. Juliet tried to stop you from causing yourself anymore torment but as much as you hated to admit it, you wanted to feel the pain, just in case if tonight doesn't end well, maybe it would be less painful then.

"Christine— I should’ve, " Stephen took a deep breath, "I wish it would've been different– I never stopped caring about us, but I had to make sacrifices… to protect you, I’m sorry." Stephen lowered his gaze.

Christine shook her head, keeping her eyes on him, "It was never going to work out between us."

Stephen raised his eyes to look at her again, her reply stung a lot, "Why not?"

"Because Stephen… you have to be the one holding the knife, and I've always respected you for it but I couldn’t love you for it."

Stephen pressed his lips together, avoiding eye contact this time, "Truly, I’m just glad that you're happy."

Christine nodded, smiling and getting teary-eyed, "I am, I really, really am."

"Good." Stephen smiled though it was a pain.

"Are you? Are you Happy?"

"I'm happy." He said, uncertainty present in his tone. Then the thought of your relationship with him crossed his mind.

"Good, you deserve it. Take care of (Y/N), she's heaven sent." Christine patted his shoulder before walking away from him. Your eyes shut tight while also walking away after hearing Palmer mention you in a positive light. Every noise around you becomes a blurred sound, while all that's been said keeps replaying in your head, you can hear Stephen's words loud and clear. I wished it would've been different– I never stopped caring about us.

Strange noticed your figure walking towards the elevators in a hurry. After not being able to find you in the time frame of being there, he could feel something was wrong because now you're leaving without a word. He ran after you but he was too slow, your eyes landing on each other as the elevator doors shut. At least he had the decency to run after you.

You saw a glow of golden light reflecting all around the elevator's metal walls, "You're really leaving without me?" Stephen asked after stepping out of the portal. You chuckled quietly, amused at the fact you forgot that he could easily catch up to you.

"I could never get used to this sorcery," A cold laugh followed, "And yes I am– was leaving without you, Stephen." You answered his question, your face turning dead-pan. The storm that was brewing inside you was only getting stronger in his presence. Another portal opened in front of you, the other side appeared to be your living room— where you're likely to spend the night alone eating ice cream while you drown yourself with tears. You passed through without hesitation and he followed.

"How much have you heard–" He broke the awful silence between you, the portal closing behind him at will. So he knows.

"Enough. Enough to wake me up from this dream I've been having." You answered his straightforward question with a straightforward answer. You've beaten around the bush long enough to do it now. You didn’t want to tread carefully anymore, you were ready for what's to come, you've had enough.

"What dream? What are you talking about?" He asked with a slight impatience in his tone. His hands grabbed you by the shoulders and spun you around to face him.

"I've come to a realisation that I am never going to be good enough for you Stephen. All of this– this– this is one sided, and I was stupid and naive to gaslight myself to believe that one day you will look at me like how you look at Christine." You looked anywhere but his blue eyes, afraid that you would melt and give in your false bravery right now.

"I can't believe this— you're jealous of Christine? Where did we just come from? Her wedding! I can’t have her!" His voice slowly got louder. This time you found the courage to look at him in the eyes, your gaze burning into his soul as you pushed him away from you.

"I am not jealous of Christine, I am everything but jealous. I know you cannot have her and I know she definitely doesn't love you romantically anymore, so why would I be jealous?" You increased your tone as well. Stephen cocked his head back, surprised to get shouted at by you for the first time, "And since you don't have a clue of what I really am feeling– then I will gladly tell you."

"Oh please, enlighten me." Stephen replied through his gritted teeth. His gaze was unwavering.

"I feel unappreciated, unloved, unnoticed–" You began but instantly got cut off by the man.

"So you’re acting like this because of my lack of attention towards you?" He rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, "That's real mature (Y/N)–"

"Oh for fuck's sake Stephen!" You threw your hands in the air, irritated at the fact that he had the nerve to get narcissistic with you, your patience was hanging by a thread, "You just asked me how much I had heard! You wished it would've been different right? If you had the chance for a different outcome, you would choose–" Her. Your throat burned and had to stop yourself from talking before your voice cracked, you bit the inside of your cheek and swallowed the lump you felt inside your throat.

You continued, "I know you're still holding onto her Stephen, I have for awhile– It’s so fucking obvious."

"If I am then why am I with you?" He asked with his low baritone voice that gave shivers down your spine, he was getting angry and you could tell he didn't want to have this conversation.

"You should ask yourself that– because I. don't. know. Maybe you're lonely, maybe you need someone to make you feel something to mask the fact that you can't get over Christine."

Stephen scoffed, "And you need to understand, that I was gone for FIVE YEARS and when I came back the love of my life was engaged and now married to someone else!" He finally snapped, his angry eyes telling you that his brain is in a different mode, he was incapable of seeing your side of the story at this point.

You flinched at his passion, "I understand how you feel—"

"Oh please, how would you understand exactly how I feel?"

"For the past year Stephen I have watched you love someone else from afar. I've spent my time trying to please you even though it is not enough to make you genuinely happy– I have been very understanding that you prefer wearing that watch or eating dinner at her favourite places over mine, I do the things that remind you of her with you— all because I had hoped that maybe someday you would come to realise the weight of my feelings for you.

And I really thought I could do it forever, because I love you— little did I know that I was self-sabotaging myself in the process. I’ve gained nothing and it’s all at my expense, I have spent all the love I’ve saved and you received all that love and I got nothing in return, what the heck am I supposed to do with that?” You poured your heart out, shouting the words when necessary. You felt free after letting it go, you weren’t able to fight back your tears this time, they burned your cheeks as they dripped down your face. They came as a full acceptance of your emotional pain.

Stephen stayed silent, his eyes flickering as he took the time to let all your pent up feelings sink in. He’s never seen you cry hysterically like that and knowing that he was the cause of it dealt him great heartache and his expression softened. Stephen took a step towards you, his hand reaching for your wrist to pull you into a hug but you pulled away, “(Y/N), I’m sorry. I—”

“Don’t touch me! I don’t want to hear it, I don’t want to hear your pity when I already feel pathetic.” You took a deep breath before drowning in yourself. You wanted him to say that you’re wrong, that you’re overthinking it; you wanted him to pull you in and kiss you like it’s your last day on earth, but you didn’t need honesty to come out from him in a form of speech, it was already in his eyes that he accepted the fact that he made the mistake, “Do you love me or am I just a rebound?” You broke the deafening silence.

Stephen lifted his blue orbs and locked themselves into yours, approaching you slowly as if he was walking on glass, afraid that you might push him away again, “No of course not (Y/N). I love you.” His scarred hands slightly tremble as they cupped your cheeks, his thumbs wiping away your tears. His eyes flickering between your eyes, allowing himself to get lost in it. Your hands clutching onto his blazer until your knuckles turn white.

“But you’re not in love with me. I have to let you go.” It came out as a whisper, it was probably one of the most difficult things you’ve had to say. Panic took over Stephen after hearing your request, he forced a smile while trying to find the words to say.

“No, don't say that, (Y/N), we can work this out, I can’t lose you too.” He rested his forehead against yours, “Please.” He whispered.

You shook your head, “I’ve got nothing left to offer you Stephen, I had a hunch it would end like this but I still carried on because I was selfish and wanted you for myself, but I can’t— I can’t do this anymore. All I ask of you now is to figure yourself out and find something that truly makes you happy.” You gently pushed him away, “Please leave.” Before I change my mind. You bit your swollen lip and looked down on the floor.

"Is this really what you want?" He asked quietly, like he's also preparing to let go. You nodded bracing yourself as this maybe the last time that you'll be with him, "I'm sorry (Y/N), I truly am." And you felt the warmth of his hands slip away as he disappeared without another word. Once you didn’t feel his presence anymore, your knees gave in and you dropped on the floor, holding your broken heart in your hands.

#stephen strange #benedict cumberbatch imagine #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #marvel x you #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch x you #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange x you #doctor strange #doctor strange x reader #dr strange x reader #dr strange x you

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girl-of-many-fandoms · 2 years

Text

"I don't get jealous."

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Stark!Reader

Summary: In order to get the job done a little flirting is necessary.

Warnings: mention of needles and light smut

NOTE: This fic is set just before the events of Civil War and Doctor Strange where Stephen is a regular neurosurgeon. I've been sitting on this one for some time now.

MASTERLIST

---

"Ignore it." Stephen continued to kiss my neck and jawline, rolling me onto my back in order to keep me from answering my phone that kept buzzing on his nightstand.

"It's important-mhmm.." A moan fell past my lips as he grounded himself against me. Stephen crashed his lips against mine in a lazy kiss; my hands roamed from his shoulders to his chest and using enough force I successfully rolled us over.

"This really better be important."

"Oh relax, we've been going at it for hours." Stephen held onto my thighs, rubbing small circles into my exposed flesh with his thumb. I hugged the white sheet close to my body as I reached over to pick up my phone.

"Tony?”

“Shake your ass sunshine, we’ve got a mission.” Stephen smirked cheekily at me, thrusting his hips upwards which earned him a playful smack on his abdomen.

“I’m sure you’re capable of handling this one yourself.”

“I would if I was able to flirt my way into this man’s apartment to get what I need.” Stephen sat up moving his hands from my thighs to my ass giving it a firm squeeze. His stubble burned against my neck as he left a trail of kisses on my exposed flesh.

“Can’t Nat help you with this because I’m in the middle of something.”

“Kiss the doctor goodbye and let’s get going.”

“How did you- Friday. Fine, I’ll be there in twenty.”Hanging up I threw the phone onto the bed, leaving kisses on Stephen’s collar bone.

“You have to go.”

“I do.” I couldn’t hold in my laugh as he securely held onto me, dragging me down with him as he laid back on his pillow. Stephen ghosted his fingers along my spine leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“I don’t want you to leave just yet.”

“I don’t either but just like you doctor, I have to leave whenever my phone rings.” He opened his mouth to make a remark only to be cut short by his ringtone. Reaching over I grabbed it, a broad smile made its way onto my face once I saw the caller ID.

“You were about to say something?” He took the device and answered it, holding it up to his ear. I moved to get off of him but he kept me in place with his free arm. With my eyes trained on his face, I left a sizeable hickey on his chest as well as a few love bites here and there.

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“Not a word Ms. Stark.” Hooking his index finger under my chin he tilted my head back to kiss me a couple times before pulling away.

“See, you know I’m right.” Groaning at my statement, he rolled me onto my back; his blue eyes locked with mine. Reaching up, I ran my fingers across his stubble that was surely going to be removed before he goes to work.

“Yes, you were. Now let’s get out of this bed before we never leave. Just do me a favour, be careful.”

“The most work I’ll be doing is flirting my way into some old dudes condo, nothing that’ll land me on your operating table.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Smirking, I pushed on his chest and he got off of me, planting both his feet on the hardwood floor. Stephen stood in all his glory showcasing his entire physique for me to see.

“Oh relax, I’m not going to sleep with the guy.” I threw the covers back and got out of bed. Stephen located his boxers from last night and pulled them up while I was in the middle of slipping on my clothes.

“You better not.”

“Is that a hint of jealousy Doctor Strange?” Stephen towered over me with both hands on my hips.

“I don’t get jealous.”

—

“You know I forgot to say this earlier but you do look lovely tonight sis.” Tony’s voice came through my comms. Bringing the cocktail glass up to my lips, I took a sip of my drink, eyes searching the sea of faces to find our target.

“I’m sure your doctor friend would’ve loved to see you in that dress.”

“What are you doing Tony?” Our eyes locked from across the room, he had a smirk on his face which told me that he was definitely up to no good.

“When do I get to meet him?”

“Never, so please drop it.”

“He makes you happy, that much I could tell. You’re blushing.”

“I’m not, it’s the alcohol. I’ve got eyes on Colin.”

“Go work your magic, just don’t take it too far. I wouldn’t want you to cheat on your lover.” Smiling at Tony I subtly flipped him off as I downed the contents of my glass. Colin walked over to me at the bar with his arms open to greet me.

“Mon ami! It’s nice to see you here.”

“Colin, it’s nice to see you again.” He kissed both my cheeks and took my hand in his, smiling as he took in my appearance.

“You look just as beautiful as I remember.” Colin and I started catching up with each other, well, he was mainly telling me more about his company. Information that I really don’t care about. Colin knocked back his whiskey, snaking his hand onto the small of my back just above the curve of my ass.

Time to get the show on the road Y/N

“I’m really glad to hear about all of that but maybe we could take this conversation somewhere more private?” Colin and I had a thing going on back in college so when Tony briefed me on who our target was I knew this was going to be easy. Batting my eyes at him, I toyed with the lapels of his suit jacket.

“I don’t see why not.” Taking my clutch in one hand I slipped the other into his and followed his lead to the elevator. Colin had my back pressed against the wall the minute the doors shut behind us, kissing every inch of my skin that was available to him.

All I kept thinking about during the ride up to his penthouse was the neurosurgeon who was in the middle of a surgery blocks away from this building. The doors opened and he guided me to his door, thankfully there wasn’t anyone in the hallway to witness me jabbing him in the neck with a sedative. His limp body hit the ground and I grabbed the key to his condo to unlock the door. I pushed the door open and dragged him inside.

“Did you sedate him yet?”

“I did. This part shouldn’t take long.” I retrieved the tiny bug device Tony gave me to place on his computer and headed straight to his study.

“Jackpot! Okay Friday, take the wheel.” I placed the device on his computer and looked at the download bar on the screen.

“So you’re really not going to introduce me to this man?”

“Exactly, I really like this one and you would only mess it up for me.”

“He knows that you’re an Avenger. What could I possibly do to mess it up?”

“I don’t know Tony and quite frankly, I don’t want to find out. Stephen is too good to me, he’s normal and makes me happy. That should be more than enough for you to know about him.”

“I’m running a background check-”

“Tony Stark, do not do that!” All of Colin’s files were downloaded and Friday wiped the computer clean. I grabbed my clutch on my way out of the room and walked straight past Colin who was still unconscious on the ground.

“Well this was fun.”

“Always nice working with you sis.”

—

There was a knock on my front door and I paused my movie to answer it. Stephen’s smile dimmed once his eyes landed on me which made me slightly confused.

“What’s that?”

“What’s what?” I stepped aside to let him in and he immediately titled my head to the side to get a better view of my neck.

“Why do you have a hickey on your neck?” Stephen cocked an eyebrow at me pulling his lips into a thin line.

“I told you I had to flirt my way in and no, I did not cheat on you if that's what you were thinking. Hell, I didn’t even kiss Colin.” Stephen shrugged his jacket off and threw it over the back of the sofa.

“I don’t like it.” There was no denying that he was jealous at the fact that another man had his hands on her while he was away.

“You know, for someone who doesn’t get jealous you sure are right now, Strange.” Stephen scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around his waist.

“I’m not jealous.”

“Prove it.”

Stephen wasted no time in crashing his lips against mine, leaning down a bit to lift me off the ground. My legs wrapped around his waist as he circled the sofa to lie us down on it.

“You’re going to regret saying that Ms. Stark.”

---

MARVEL Taglist:

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#doctor strange x stark!reader #doctor strange x you #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange #stephen strange x ofc #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x stark!reader #stephen strange x you #stephen strange #doctor strange smut #stephen strange smut #benedict cumberbatch imagine #benedict cumberbatch

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wint3r-h3art · 2 years

Text

The Doctor’s Orders | S.S

Request: I was wondering if you could do one where the reader is really shy but she likes being asked what she wants because it like a kink and doctor strange loves it and does it all the time??

Word count: 892

Warnings: PWP, fingering, praises kink, unprotected p in v sex. Male ejaculation.

A/N: Literal brain rot. Just a smut writing exercise. No beta so if i missed anything, I’m sorry. If you like this filth, please comment and reblog. I love to hear what you think of it!

A breathless gasp tore from your lips as your head fell back onto his shoulder. Electricity buzzed through your veins as your eyes fluttered shut. Your thighs shook uncontrollably as his fingers rubbed at your clit with vigor. Strange’s deep, velvety’s voice whispered sweet nothing into your ear while his other hand was occupied with your mound.

“Do you like that, sweetheart?” His voice sent a shiver through you. Slick seeped out of your folds as he kept your legs spread wide with his magic. You felt so dirty and exposed, yet the desire to please him was greater.

You answered with a soft whine.

“Hmm, not quite what I wanted to hear…Do you want more?”

You nodded vehemently as you could feel yourself inching closer to your release. “Yes. Yes. Please. Stephen,” you mumbled as your body arched off him.

“Stephen?” Strange frowned and stopped all of his movement, leaving you high and dry. You were so close to getting that sweet release. “Sweetheart, did I give you permission to call me by my name?”

Your mouth hung agape as you cracked your eyes open. Your breath shuddered as you shook your head no. You pleaded with teary eyes as you struggled against the magical chain that kept you close to him. “I’m sorry, doctor. I didn’t mean to. Please, I’ll do anything.”

His brows quirked. “Anything?” Stephen’s hand was on your neck, grasping at it almost too carefully. His touch made your throat go dry as goosebumps pricked your skin.

“Please….let me cum.” Desperation filled your voice and Strange couldn’t ignore that. His love to fulfill your needs outweighed that.

“Hmm, I can never say no to you,” you sighed as his lips ghosted over the column of your neck. “Tell me, sweetheart. What would you like me to do to you next?” His nose brushed against your shoulder.

“N-need you, doctor,” you moaned as you ground your ass into his growing bulge that pressed distinctively against your lower back.

“You need to be more specific than that, darling. Do you need me on top of you? Under you, inside you, or—” His fingers pressed firmly against your bottom lip. “Do you want me inside your mouth?”

You sobbed softly as you tried to contain your desire for him.

“Tell me what you want or I’ll stop.”

“N-No! Please don’t stop! Don’t. I just want you, doctor. Anyway, you wanted me.”

Stephen smirked against your neck before he gently nipped at your skin. “Why don’t you be a good girl and get on your hands and knees for me, hmm?”

Your legs fell down onto the mattress with a soft thud. Strange has released you and you scurried up to get into the position he had ordered you. Anticipation filled your vein as you waited for him. A shaky breath left your parted lips as you felt the head of his cock rubbing suggestively at your quaking pussy.

You let out a low, drawn-out moan when Stephen pushed himself all the way in.

“Oh, fuck. You’re so tight, sweetheart,” his deep, velvety voice purred into your ears as he withdrew himself all the way back before he slowly sheathed himself all the way inside you. “Look how your little pussy is swallowing my cock,” he grunted before he started to quicken his pace.

The sweet, torturous movement along with the dirty words only turn you on even more if you weren’t so dripping wet already. You winced as your hands bunched at the sheet so tightly that they began to ache. Still, his movements were relentless and slowly getting more brutal. Each thrust made you breathless as the tight coil that sat at the pit of your stomach wound tighter.

Your legs gave out underneath you. Your face planted right onto the soft mattress. His hand grabbed at your neck as he pushed himself further and further until that coil snapped. Your body strained beneath him as your orgasm washed over you. Strange grunted at the way you squeezed his cock as he continued to fuck you hard into the mattress, milking him, inching him closer to his own release.

His frantic movement caused the bed to skid across the hardwood floor while the headboard slammed against the wall. You didn’t know how long you stayed there, your mouth hung open. No noise came out of you for all the air has been fucked right out of you.

You didn’t know how long you laid there as he used you to reach his own release, but Strange let out a low growl before you felt warm liquid paint your back.

Strange huffed before he collapsed beside you. His face was flushed. His salt and pepper hair was disheveled. His forehead dampened with perspiration. Silence filled the room once more, saved for the sound of your breathing.

“You ok?” he asked in between his pantings. You nodded before you reached out to swipe his hair away. Strange quirked his brows, watching you.

“Never better,” you bit your lips. “I like it when you’re giving me an order, doctor.”

Strange’s brows quirked with interest. “Oh? Is that so? Perhaps, next time I get to tell you what I want you to do to me,” he smirked before he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“I’d like that.”

#wint3r h3art #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange smut #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange x you #doctor strange smut #dr strange x reader #dr strange x you #dr strange smut #stephen strange imagine #stephen strange oneshot #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange one shot #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch imagine

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storiesforallfandoms · 2 years

Text

don’t go ~ stephen strange;mcu

word count: 2034

request?: yes!

“hi i love you !

can i request a cuddling with stephen strange with smut (only if your comfortable) if not then just a lot of fluff .!”

description: in which she tries to convince him to stay in bed a little bit longer before he goes to work

pairing: stephen strange x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex)

masterlist (one, two)

I was awoken early in the morning by Stephen’s alarm. He would always try and wake up before me so he could get the alarm shut of before it woke me, but that rarely ever worked.

I rolled over as Stephen sat up on the bed. I watched him rub the sleep from his eyes before trying to stand. I quickly wrapped my arms around his middle and pulled him back down on the bed. He chuckled as he turned in my arms to face me.

“Go back to sleep, my love,” he said.

“No,” I responded with a pout. “Not if you’re going.”

“I have to go to work, sweetie.”

“They can survive without you for a day.”

“They quite literally cannot.”

I sighed and continued to pout at him. He looked at me for a while before giving in. “I’ll spend an extra few minutes in bed, but no more than that.”

I smiled as he slipped back under the covers and pulled me close to him. His body was still warm. I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat.

Stephen loved his job. I admired his passion for it, but it also proved to be one of the biggest downsides in our relationship; the early rises, the long hours, the lack of time together. I’d never say any of that to Stephen, of course, but it just made it hard for me to let him go to work in the mornings. If it were up to me, I’d hold him and refuse to let go, and the two of us would just lay in bed all day until I decided to let him go.

At some point while we were cuddling, I turned my head and started kissing Stephen’s neck. I didn’t mean for it to be a cheeky gesture, I was just trying to kiss him and his neck was what I could reach without having to stretch.

Stephen stiffened beneath me. “Don’t do that.”

I looked at him, puzzled. “Do what?”

“You know what.” He gave me a stern look. “I will not be seduced into missing work.”

That hadn’t been my intentions, but now that he had brought it up I was getting ideas.

I sat up to look down at Stephen, raising an eyebrow at him. “Is that a challenge?”

“It’s literally the opposite of that.”

Well, that just fueled me more.

I leaned down and started kissing his neck again. He tensed beneath my again and I felt him raise his hands like he was going to try and stop me. I paused a moment, waiting to see if he was going to push me away. As much as I was enjoying teasing him, I didn’t want to take it too far if he didn’t want it.

But instead of pushing me away, his hands wrapped around my waist and a moan escaped his lips. That’s all I needed to keep going.

I got up and threw one leg over his waist, straddling him. I could feel his erection already, even through the layers of clothing between us.

I continued to kiss his neck as I grinded my hips against him. His moans and whimpers were enough to motivate me to keep going. I could feel myself becoming wetter with every movement, but I didn’t want to take things that far just yet. I wanted to tease him for just a little bit longer.

Stephen had other plans, however, as he grabbed me and turned us over in one swift movement. With me underneath him now, I was completely submissive to him. Whatever he wanted to do to me he could. I was secretly aching for him to have his way with me.

“You want to be naughty?” he questioned, his voice husky with lust. “Well, let’s get naughty.”

He pulled my pajama pants. I raised my hips and he slipped the pants and my panties off together. He disappeared under the covers. I gasped as I felt his tongue against my clit.

I thought he was going to take things slow and tease me the way I had with him, but I couldn’t be more wrong. His tongue was licking at my core mercilessly. My toes curled with pleasure and my back arched off the bed. Stephen grabbed my hips and forced them back down onto the bed.

“Stay still,” he commanded.

That was easier said than done. With every press of his tongue against my core, my body would inadvertently move or twitch. I gripped at the sheets in an attempt to hold myself down, but it only helped a little.

I could feel my first orgasm approaching quickly. I tried to stutter out something coherent to ask Stephen to stop. I didn’t want to cum just yet. I wanted to feel him inside of me, to cum over his dick and feel him pulsate inside of me with his own climax. But he kept going, fast and hungrily. I tried to push him away, but he just grabbed my hands in one of his big ones and pinned them against my stomach.

I cried out as my orgasm ripped through me. My eyes rolled back in my head and my body trembled with pleasure. Stephen lapped up my juices before moving his tongue back to my clit. I whimpered as he licked a long stripe up my clit, a mixture of pleasure and slight pain running through me. I tried to free my hands, but Stephen just held them tighter. I tried to kick him away, but he shoved my legs under him and pressed his whole body weight down on them.

“St-Stephen,” I stuttered. “I-I can’t - ”

“You wanted to play this game,” he reminded me, pushing the blankets back so I could finally see his face. “Now it’s my turn.”

He lowered his mouth on me again. A shock ran up my body and I trembled at the feeling.

“Oh fuck!” I cried out as I felt two of his fingers pushing into my wet hole.

He started to pump it in and out of me, slowly at first. The pace with his tongue had gotten painfully slow, as was the pacing with his fingers. My body felt overwhelmed but also pleasured. It wasn’t long until I could feel myself nearing another orgasm.

“Stephen please,” I begged, trying to pull my limbs free again. “Please, I don’t think I can do more than two and I wanna feel your cock inside of me.”

“You’ll feel it soon, baby, just give me one more first.”

With his words of encouragement, my second orgasm slipped out. My whole body tightened as my walls clenched around Stephen’s fingers. He finally released my hands and slipped his fingers out of me. I nearly sobbed with relief at the loss of contact. My body felt like it could finally relax.

Stephen brought his fingers up to his mouth and sucked my juices from them. Despite my brain screaming that my body needed a break, the action turned me on enough that I clenched my thighs together.

Stephen stood from the bed and I pouted, thinking he was getting up to leave. He chuckled at the look on my face and said, “Oh, I’m not done with you yet” before pulling off his boxers, allowing his hard dick to bounce free from its restrictions. He was so hard that his dick was an angry color of red, as if it was upset that it had to wait so long to be used.

He climbed back on the bed and knocked my legs open so he could kneel between them. He took his dick in his hand and lined it up to my entrance, which was now puffy and pink from the overuse. He looked up at me, his expression softening slightly.

“Do you want to do this?” he asked. “If you’re too sore, I can finish myself.”

I knew I shouldn’t want it. There was a slight ache between my legs and I wasn’t sure I would be able to survive another orgasm. But I did. I wanted him so bad. I wanted to feel him inside of me, to feel him fill me up with his seed. I wanted him to leave me sore and dripping and unable to leave our bed as he went off to work.

I reached between us and took hold of him. He sucked in a breath between his teeth at the action. I moved my hips slightly, pushing just the tip inside of me.

That was enough of an answer for him. Without hesitation, he thrusted forward, filling me up in an instant. I let out a gasp that turned into a moan as he started to thrust into me at a quick pace.

Usually, Stephen was a very gentle lover. We liked to take our time (whenever we actually had any). He liked to make me feel good, and I loved to make him feel good as well.

But this, this was the exact opposite of how Stephen normally was in the bedroom. In this moment, he was rough and merciless, thrusting into me so hard that the headboard was hitting off of the wall and the bed was shaking. My soft moans were replaced with screams of pleasure. I felt like he was going to break me in half, and honestly, I would’ve been more than okay with that.

He was hitting just the right spot inside of me that made the familiar pressure in my stomach build again. My nails were dug into his shoulders, undoubtably leaving bright red marks in their wake. Not that anyone was going to see them besides me.

“F-fuck, St-Stephan,” I moaned. “I-I’m gonna c-cum again.”

“Not yet, baby,” he said. “Wait for me.”

I wasn’t sure I was able to. I could feel yet another orgasm quickly rushing through me. I tried to hold it back, but it felt like I had no control over my own body anymore.

As if he could read my mind, Stephen started to thrust into me at a faster pace (something I didn’t even know was possible). He lowered his head and started kissing over my neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites from my collarbone all the way up to my ear.

“Now,” he breathed into my ear before nibbling on my earlobe.

I screamed out as my third and final orgasm ripped through me again. At the same time, I could feel Stephen pulsing inside of me as he rode out his own orgasm. He groaned into my ear, sending chills down my spine as my body finally came to rest after such intense pleasure back to back.

We laid tangled together for some time, panting to try and catch our breaths. As much as I would’ve loved to keep him buried inside of me, I did feel somewhat relieved when he finally pulled out of me. I felt my body sink into the bed as exhaustion took over me once again.

Stephen stood and looked at the time.

“Well,” he said, “I will be sufficiently late by the time I get to work.” He shot me a playful look and added, “I hope you’re happy.”

“Hey, you could’ve left at any time,” I said with an innocent shrug.

He chuckled and shook his head as he walked off to the bathroom to go shower.

I rolled onto my side, my aching body protesting the movement. I tried to force myself to stay awake so I could tell him goodbye, but it was pretty well impossible. I was slowly succumbing to my tiredness was Stephen walked back in. He noticed my sleepy state and quickly grabbed some clothes from the closet.

“I’ll go get dressed in the bathroom so I don’t keep you awake,” he told me. “Get some rest, love. I’ll see you after work.”

He kissed my forehead and I smiled up at him. “Have a good shift. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. The moment he was gone, I was out like a light.

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