;nsfw

Mo Chridhe - 7

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 

You can also find all of my other stories with this list

“Mmm… my favorite,” Jamie murmured as he bit and sucked at Claire’s throat, just hard enough for her nerves to be set on fire, but light enough that he wouldn’t leave a lasting mark.

“Jamie,” Claire repeated over and over in a breathy whisper, which caused Jamie’s body to alight with renewed vigor.

He smiled as kissed his way down to the ‘V’ of her v-neck shirt, nuzzling down beneath the fabric to the silky cups of her bra.

“Off, Jamie. Take the bloody shirt off me!” Claire cried out as Jamie continued his ministrations with his mouth over the fabric as his hands slowly crept under her shirt, savoring the silky skin of her sides. Edging the shirt closer to her head, Jamie reluctantly pulled away and quickly discarded the shirt, starting a pile in the floor.

Jamie’s hands reached behind her and groped at the band in the back. Searching, he felt no hook or clasp only silk and lace.

“The front,” Claire’s breathy voice whispered. “The clasp is in the front.”

Jamie smiled against Claire’s sternum, kissed down to the small bow covered hook and slowly pulled the clasp—

“DA!!!”

William burst into his parent’s bedroom, carrying his favorite green blanket and stuffed elephant. His wildly awry brownish red curls and tear streaked cheeks lead the way to fear filled eyes.

Claire gasped and quickly ducked under the coverlet, reaching out to the floor and groping for her missing shirt.

“What’s wrong, a bhailach?” Jamie crossed the room and gathered his son up into his arms.

The sleepy boy nestled his head into his father’s neck and sniffled. “I had a bad dweam, you and Mama, Fewgus, Faith, and Bwee were all gone! I was all alone! I dinna like it Da! I dinna like it one bit!”

Patting William’s back, Jamie carried him over to the bed and laid him down next to his—now fully clothed—mother.

“Shh, my darling. It was only a bad dream. Your Da and I are right here my love, and no one has left you alone.”

“What about Bwee, Fewgus and Faith?”

“All three should be snug in their beds, sound asleep. As should you, little one. Why did you bring Angus with you?”

William’s little shoulder shrugged, identical to his father’s dismissive Scottish shrug. “I didna want to be alone if ye all werrre gone. I hafta keep a fwiend close.”

Claire looked over her son’s curly head and into her husband’s blue eyes, conveying the mild heartbreak she was experiencing at her son’s distress and at the loss of the intimate moment they had been sharing.

“Ah, that’s verra brave son. I’m sure wee Angus here would have kept ye safe and good company,” Jamie said, kissing the top of William’s head. “How about ye give yer Mam a hug and I’ll take ye back to bed?”

Claire felt William’s tiny hands latch around her neck, then his head shake back and forth quickly. “I dinna want to leave. Please, let me sleep hewe with you.”

Unable to say no to her children no matter what the sacrifice, Claire wrapped her son into her arms and kissed his temple. “Of course you can sleep here. We’ll put you back in your bed after you’re sleeping soundly.”

“Mama!”

“Don’t talk back to yer Mam. Ye ken the rules; ye sleep in yer own bed. We’ll help ye get to sleep, but we’ll tuck ye in to yer own bed with Angus after ye do fall asleep.”

William huffed, and burrowed his head into Claire’s neck—the same spot Jamie had been not five minutes before.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But can I have Fwank or Chawlie in my woom too?”

“Aye, if I can get one of the beasts from yer siblings rooms, ye can have one in yer room with ye.”

The tension in the four year olds body deflated and he melted onto his mother’s chest, falling into a deep sleep shortly after.

Jamie stroked his son’s back, his heart full of love at seeing his small form with his mother. The memory of his birth was all too painful and vivid; he’d nearly lost both of them that day, had it not been for Joe and —grudgingly— Dr. Raymond Bouton, they both would have died that dreary January morning.

“I love the wee heathen, but he needs to work on his timing.”

Claire laughed, muffling her mouth with the pillow. “Getting blue balls are you?”

“Aye, and ye as a doctor surely know that they arena healthy for a man.” Jamie winked and gently caressed Claire’s arm that protectively surrounded their son.

“Why don’t you take this one back to bed and we’ll see what I can do to alleviate any pain you may be experiencing?” Claire gave Jamie a sly smile and a pointed stare at the appendage in question, alluding to the activities she had in mind.

After carrying the limp form of his slumbering son to bed and dragging a reluctant Charlie from Faith’s room, settling the Cocker Spaniel in bed with William, Jamie rushed back down the hall to his wife. Peeling his shirt off as he walked into the room, he found Claire in nothing but his button up shirt lying peacefully on the bed.

His patience was wearing thin and his balls felt like they were about to fall off from the strain of lack of satisfaction.

“Hmm… Are you going to stand in the doorway all night staring or are you going to join me?” Biting her lip, Claire crooked a finger beckoning him to her.

Before he bounded onto the bed, Jamie found himself without pants and without a care in the world.

Claire gently stroked her husband’s chest, paying close attention to the curly cinnamon hairs springing up between his pectoral muscles. Her fingernail traced the perimeter of the hair, settling on his right nipple and swirling slowly inward until the tip budded out from stimulation. Claire bent forward and licked his nipple, then treated the left to the same amount of attention, before slowly licking, sucking, and biting her way down.

Cupping him in her palm, she slowly caressed, stroked, and squeezed, giving Jamie the most erotic and intimate baws check he had ever experienced. Jamie couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, or even see straight as Claire doctored his ills. Blue balls woes forgotten, now all that consumed his being was the fire of desire.

Lust, love, want—he could not decipher one from the other, only that Claire was the source of these desires. He pulled her up and kissed her soundly, allowing their tongues to dance and bodies to melt into one another. He flipped Claire on to her back and ripped the buttons from his shirt, greedy eyes taking in her soft, rounder form.

“Fair is fair,” he whispered and then treated her breasts and nipples to a similar treatment that she had shown him. One hand circled, the other creeped steadily lower. Her body arched off the bed, and her surprised moan caused him to smile and increase his efforts. She was always responsive, always ready, and always his.

Claire grabbed Jamie’s hips and positioned him where she wanted him. Never afraid to take control, but willing to let him lead. They began their rhythm—a slow, torturous tempo that caused both of them to quickly lose their breath.

“Daddy! What are you doing to Mama?” Bree’s voice shrieked. Claire squealed and Jamie fumbled for the coverlet to shield his naked arse from his youngest daughter.

“Ach, mo chridhe, why are you out of bed?” Jamie groaned into Claire’s shoulder just loud enough for Bree to hear.

“I couldn’t sleep. I wanted you to read me a story,” Bree said, her voice getting steadily closer.

“Darling, give your Da and I a little while and we’ll meet you in your room for a story. Pick out a book will you? Or find the chapter we left off on in Harry Potter, ok?”

“Alright, Mama!” They heard their daughter’s excited footsteps run for the door then stop. “Da, dinna hurt Mama again, ok?” Bree’s voice, too stern for her six year old self, caused Claire to giggle and Jamie to stifle his own.

“Aye, mo chridhe, I promise no to hurt yer Mama again.”

That must have satisfied her, for the excited patter of Bree running to her room was all that could be heard. Jamie slumped onto his wife, deflated.

“Next time, lock the door.” Claire huffed, not wanting to lose the connection, but the desire slowly ebbing away from their daughter’s intrusion.

“Aye, I’ll try to remember that. Next time, try not to be so tempting, mo nighean donn, and I might not forget.”

Claire laughed and kissed him with all the love and desire they were denied that evening.

“Later?” Jamie asked pulling away from Claire’s mouth.

“If you can stay awake that long after reading God knows how many chapters of Harry Potter for Bree.”

Jamie buried his head in Claire’s shoulder, not ready to move or leave her warmth.

“Go,” she said and kissed him again. “I’ll go grab a glass of water for Bree and be in with you shortly.”

“Mo nighean donn,” he said, punctuating each word with a kiss. “Dinna keep us waiting too long.”

“I won’t.” She said kissing him once more and sliding out from under him with a sad sigh.

Later, if only later were now. Jamie thought to himself as he watched Claire’s naked form slip into the bathroom.

// @puppyeyeswinchester

Sam was already asleep for a while and Lucifer checked on him from time to time. Somehow he wasn’t able to sleep tonight, something kept him awake. When he came into the bedroom once more he noticed Sam behaved strange, he shifted under the blanket, soft moans escaping his lips.

Lucifer grinned, this was Sam having a very interesting dream and while he would have loved to wake him up to know what he was dreaming about he decided otherwise – until…

“Daddy – y-yes!”

Lucifer turned around, unable to stop himself from snapping loudly. “What?”

How They Initiate Sex (Preference);

Q would initiate sex by slamming you against a wall and kissing you hard, revelling in the moan you release as he does. It’s messy, all teeth and nails as he shunts you back whenever you try to arch against him - and it makes you want him more, impossibly more, for his mood has been dipped in gasoline and your passions go up in flames. Eventually sinking to the floor, he dominates you completely, order after order– and you concede, until you both collapse on the ground and heave for breath.

Sal would initiate sex by sneaking behind you and wrapping his arms around your stomach, groin grinding against your rear while his hands splay beneath your shirt and slip over your breasts. Hot kisses press down your neck and then his lips are settled by your ear and whispering dirty things he wants to do to you while you push harder against him and moan at the gruff groan in your ear. When you both finish, you press your back against his front and he wraps his arms around you while whispering how much he loves you before you both doze off to sleep.

Joe would initiate sex by play-fighting with you. He would start with scrabbling fingers digging into ribs and tickling you until you’re red in the face and begging him to stop, growing more and more excited as you continuously brush fronts. He finally relinquishes his grip on you, straddling your thighs. You stare at one another and the humour fades from his eyes as he leans in and presses a slow kiss to your lips. You reciprocate in kind, sighing contentedly into his mouth as his tongue slips past your lips. All this leads to passionate sex, hands and skin and declarations of love and when it’s all over you hold one another so tightly it’s as if you’ll never part into two separate people again.

Murr would initiate sex by turning you on in the most inappropriate places. For example, when he takes you out to dinner, he’ll rub you through your underwear under the table, forcing you to maintain conversation so that other people don’t suspect anything. Once you get home from the dinner, thoroughly aroused and aching for him, you barely get through the door before you’re practically ripping his suit off of him and teasing him until he can’t take any more. Pushed to his limit, Murr carries you upstairs and proceeds to have heated sex with you in the shower. When you finish, hot water trickling down your spent bodies, you end up giggling as you hear the neighbours complaining about the noise next door.

anonymous asked:

"I need to be inside of you" Joe X Reader please

  [SMUT WARNING! READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!]

        He’s a complete mess as you lean away from him. At this point, Joe is desperate for your touch - and having his wrists bound to the bedposts via the tie he’d been taunting you with all day in the form of ‘innocent’ adjustments and tugs when he’d seen you staring, he can’t even guide you to him.

        “[Y/N], oh my God,” the Joker breathes, panting hard as you lean in once more after inspecting your handiwork. His naked body; his heaving chest and his twitching legs; his creased brow and his hot cheeks… you’ve got him right where you want him, ache for him, but you want him to understand just how hot-and-bothered you’ve been feeling all day courtesy of him and his mindless gestures.

        “Not so fun being on the waiting end, huh?” you quip, pressing your index finger to his tip and watching as he attempts to thrust his hips so that you touch him further. It doesn’t work, you’re always one step ahead and so it isn’t a surprise when you pull your hand away from him completely and listen to the frustrated groan you receive courtesy of doing so. “Aww. Is Joey all desperate? Don’t worry, I’m all wet for you too.”

        He isn’t pleased about the restraints, makes it evident in his somewhat choppy reply: “Take care of it yourself.”

        “Aww.”

        Joe scowls at your coo and it turns you on immensely, has you leaning your naked body closer to him, rubbing your breasts against his thigh as you look up at him with large eyes. The feeling of your hard nipples against his skin has pleasure shooting down your spine, back arching so that your rear points skyward. Gatto gets a good eyeful before he’s distracted by the feeling of your tongue trailing up the entire length of his body.

        It’s then that you kiss him with fevour, shivering with delight when you feel him respond eagerly. His tongue against yours, hard breathing shared between you as you attempt to overthrow his dominance in the one way he can still exert it. And to your shock, you manage to, listen to the moan of defeat he gives you as you kiss him too hard for him to keep up without his hands snaking down you as leverage. The arch of his brow as vulnerability spills onto his face has you dripping, natural lubrication trailing along his thigh as you grind against it.

        “Holy fuck, [Y/N]… please…”

        Had Joe Gatto just said the ‘p’ word? You make a show of looking shocked, watch the furrow of his brow before it disappears as you adjust yourself in his lap, flattening his rock-hard shaft so that you can sit atop it and drag your soaking wet entrance along its length. Joe groans loudly, attempts to break free… and it’s so delicious watching him try for the knot holds firm. He cracks his eyes open and glares at you. You simply smile sweetly back at him. 

        “What did you say before, Joey?” you ask, body still shifting along his hard length. You hope he relents soon for you can feel your resolve shaking just as much as his legs are. God, you want him…

       “You heard me,” he growls, bucking upwards and earning his first outward moan of the night (though in his defense he’s been made quite useless with you binding him) as his tip grazes your clit.

        “Well I want to hear it again,” you retort, opening your eyes to stare down at him sharply. Gatto parts his lips… before closing them again. It appears you’ve reached an impasse, though with the plan you have stirring in your head it won’t be long until he relents. Pushing your breasts firmly against his chest, your breath tickles his ear and has his back arching slightly from the headboard he’s been propped against. “You listen to me, Joe. I’ll leave you here desperate if you don’t do what I tell you. You want me to take your cock like a good girl? Earn it.”

        He seems to have weakened. His arms even stop tugging against his restraints, head tilting back as he moans liberally. Smirking, you tug on his earlobe and then trail down his neck. A heated ‘so, what do you say…?’ is breathed against his skin before you bite him hard, listen to the choke he releases as you do. Oh, he loves that; appreciates the rough side in the bedroom.

        “Please,” Joe begs, voice shaking almost as much as his body as he aches for you. 

        “Please, what?”

        He sighs, though it’s a breathy exhale as he wets his lips and then starts again. Please take my cock. I need to feel you now, [Y/N], it’s driving me crazy… I need to be inside of you.”

        Smiling, you raise your hips above his and feel the satisfying rush of his erection springing back upwards (previously weighed down by you sitting and grinding on it). Poising yourself, thrusting your chest into his face for added effect before you sink onto him with a drawn-out moan. The man all but goes crazy, though he falls still when you warn him that you’ll stop if he moves before you’re ready. He’s shaking with effort… such a satisfying sight.

        And thus begins your furious rhythm. It becomes apparent to him that you too have been wanting and suddenly he doesn’t feel so small. He may have been bested this time but, at the end of it all, you’d still cracked first. And over something as small as a tie. This gives him a sense of his usual conviction, hips beginning to thrust while his lips provide boundless pleasure to your breasts. Nipping at your flesh, sucking hard on your nipples as you bounce in his lap and toss your head back at the sensation of being filled, Joe feels it in him to speak up.

        “Look at ya,” he comments, listening to the shaky ‘m-mm?’ you give him in response before you cry out at the feeling of his teeth lightly scraping against your nipple. He may not have his hands at the moment but he can still reduce you to mush. “You’re playin’ the tough one but you want me so badly. God, you’re so wet…ya know, ya didn’t have to restrain me. I’d’a happily taken you somewhere quiet and fucked your brains out.”

        It occurs to you that though you’re in control (arguably), his words turn you on immensely and so you don’t penalise him for them, just continue to ride him with your fingers digging in to his shoulders. Joe revels in the clamp of your nails, watches as your face flushes brighter as your impending end looms over the pair of them.

        “Ya gonna cum?”

        “All over your cock,” you clarify, breath catching as he thrusts upwards with the intention of unraveling you. “Carry on testing me and it’ll be all over your face, Gatto.”

        The man leans his head back, chuckles darkly. “Ya say that like I’d mind.”

        That does it. You no longer have the patience for his smart mouth. You’d tied him up with the intention of subduing him… but, if anything, he only appears to have grown cockier. When you pull off of his hard shaft he cracks an eye open to see what you’re up to - before he’s pushed via the back of his head into your soaking wet entrance. With his head tilted back as it had been, it’s the perfect angle.

        “Put that smart mouth of yours to good use,” you snap, gaining a firm grip in his hair. No sooner do you feel his tongue lapping at your lips do your knees begin to quiver. He’s not speaking any more and that much makes you happy for he can turn you on - and does - but you’re never going to exert any kind of dominance over him if he keeps weakening you with his filthy words. “Mmm, your tongue feels so– oh God!”

        You hadn’t even managed to get the words out before he’d flattened his tongue against your clit. Your hand at the back of his head only pushes him in further, his lips locking over the bundle of nerves and tugging at it. That does it for you - you cum violently, legs shaking as you buck into his face. And Joe, the fucking saint, he cleans you thoroughly, even laps at your inner thighs once hes rid you of excess fluid.

        The Joker watches as you sink into his lap,unable to stand any longer as you rest your head against his shoulder and pant for breath. His erection still stands firm, throbbing for release but you’re more focused in nuzzling into his neck and riding out your high in relative peace.

        “So,” Joe speaks up after you’ve had sufficient time to collect yourself. “About this hard-on of mine…”

        “What about it?” you ask, fighting back a cheeky smile as you feel his body tense. Joe tries to play it off as if he isn’t nervous about the prospect of you really being mean enough to leave him hanging.

        “Seems a shame to leave it as it is…”

        Glancing down at his still-hard erection, you hum with agreement before snaking down his legs and running your lips over his tip. His eyes flutter shut and, to his surprise, he feels you undoing the restraints. His wrists flop to the bed as circulation works its magic and slowly returns to him. In fact, he’s so swept up in the availability of his hands that he doesn’t even notice you’re no longer at his length, rather stood at the foot of the bed and grinning wickedly.

                Joe chuckles nervously as he realises. “Ahah… [Y/N]… c’mon, baby…”

               Tilting your head in a cute manner, you smile. “Take care of it yourself.”

@deckofdespair​ | cont. 

Odd. She seemed to be rather invested in the way Celeste… removed her clothing. Not that she’d been entirely innocent from the start, after all, she’d been the one to suggest an otherwise inappropriate game. For some reason, she just couldn’t help herself around other girls, and it was precisely that urge she’d been getting that was becoming worrisome. 

    It seemed more and more like her innocence was throwing itself from a window with every passing day, and encounter. Maybe self-learning intelligences weren’t supposed to play as many ero games as Chiaki did. 

         “You know… if I were beaten at a video game, I’d be pretty mad.” 
  Nanami got to her feet, stepping closer to Celeste with a certain… glint in her eyes. Whatever that meant, it was a foreign thing for her; she couldn’t control it, yet.  
     When the gamer had gotten within a relatively close proximity to the gambler, she didn’t slow her pace any. This was the way it went in the games she’d played– and those looked really fun. Digits wrapped around the other’s wrist in an almost aggressive manner as it fell from the last hanger; tugging it with enough force for Celeste to turn in her direction, and be pulled up against her body. 
  “You’re angry at me, right?” 
          Her breath hot on the other’s lips.
                            “…I sure hope you are.”

anonymous asked:

Professor!Joe x Student!Reader, maybe?

  [SMUT WARNING! READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!]

You’ve been in Professor Gatto’s more times than you can recall. You and him have built up quite a rapport, him quickly taking a shine to you when you’d delivered him top grade after top grade, even helping some of the other students in the form of selfless tutoring. You’re no saint - but he damn well sees you as one.

However, you suspect he doesn’t know your true reasoning for your good behaviour for in every other class you are of average standard; and not because you’re not clever enough to exceed but because you don’t want to. Not being able and not being bothered are two very different things, and it seems to take a genius to recognise it for all your other teachers claim you’re where you should be. You leave it be. You have no desire to raise expectations in the stressful process of university, not when so much already sits on your shoulders.

With his mug, he leans back in his chair and takes a sip of his coffee. You’ve just calmed down from a bout of laughter. Oh that Mr. Gatto, funnier than funny, happy as Larry when the people around him were happy; and to say you’ve never laughed harder than when in his priceless company is no lie. Before his teaching career, he’d been quite the prankster and still liked to play practical jokes on his peers when perusing the staff room and hovering in the halls. Hell, he’d even got students a couple of times, mostly trouble-makers.

“Mm,” Joe muses, loosening his tie. It’s the end of the day and you often take the time to catch up with him after the weekend, exchanging stories and pleasantries until the sun begins to dip and he remembers he’s not really supposed to be in an enclosed space with a student. The fact that he isnt supposed to be only makes his allure that much more irresistible to you. It is no secret that you have a thing for him, you admit it readily to yourself. “Yeah… I got the bastard good. Should’a seen him run, [Y/N].”

“I can imagine. You’ve got a pair of legs yourself,” you remark, making him smile. Because despite his belly - which you can’t help but find adorable - he runs like a rocket, legs propelling him faster than anything you’ve seen in an older man. Truly a child at heart, he is, has the energy of one too.

Joe finishes his coffee, puts the mug on the desk and clasps his hands over his stomach as he spins in his chair to face you directly. You’re sitting on the desk adjacent to his own before he beckons you to him.

“I needed to talk to you about something, actually,” he says, eyes fixed on yours as he pats the front of his desk. Swallowing hard, you come to him, do as you’re told and perch on the edge of his desk. There’s an underlying tension between you, one that has your pulse elevating and your heart thumping quicker as he pulls up in front of you and drums his fingers conspicuously on the desk on either side of you. They’re only a distraction if you let them be… but the fact that his hands are so close to you has you distracted enough as it is. The Professor smirks. “A little birdy told me you failed an assortment of assignments in one of your classesover the course of the month.”

     You force yourself to keep calm. “With all due respect, sir, it wasn’t your class I failed.”

Precisely. You never fail, [Y/N]. Your intelligence is beyond anybody that currently sits in this lecture hall. I’ve had students like you before… so clever, and so bluntly ignorant about it. Out of choice. However, the main reason I bring it up is because…”

Joe pauses, feeling a pang of laughter erupt from his throat before he can stop it. Feeling the corners of your lips twitch, you cross one leg over the other and watch him keenly.

                                       “…your other teacher claimed you were being a bit of a bitch.”

You scoff before you can stop it, watching as he ascends from his seat and folds his arms neatly behind his back as he tilts his head and looks down on you. It turns you on, simply put, the thought of him leaning in close and kissing you, first softly and then all at once, tongues melding, teeth clashing, hands scrabbling, it has your insides wreaking havoc… but all he does is arch an eyebrow at you.

                          “Of course she’d say that, the miserable old bat.”

He laughs rather hard, leaning forward and taking your forearms in his strong hands. He tuts. “You can’t talk like that, [Y/N].”

Playfully you roll your eyes… before you’re stunned into leaning back slightly as he closes in, stare firm and steely and– gorgeous. God, you could get lost if you let yourself… maybe you do, because you start to feel a little light-headed as he leans in ever closer, mouth not far from your ear.

“…how come I’m never graced with this ‘bitchy’ side of you, hm?” he questions smoothly, voice dipping in a suave manner. Cursing yourself as a wanton sigh passes your lips, you let your eyes slip closed and your fantasies run away with you. He’s so close you can feel his breath, the warmth of his body and the sly bastard tilts his head so that his lips brush your ear. Fingers automatically scrape against the wood of his desk, head angling slightly away from him. “Seems to me somebody practices favouritism when it comes to their teachers.”

“Like you don’t with your students,” you murmur, voice more sultry than you’d ever intended. However, if his chuckle is anything to go by, you’ve done something right“…maybe I like you more, Professor.”

“Maybe,” he boldly agrees, before his teeth gently graze your earlobe, as if testing waters. He knows he shouldn’t, really knows it; he could get fired, or worse, a track record…but he just can’t resist, and based on the way your breath hitches when his hand finds yours, neither can you.

                                                 It’s now or never. 

A hand reaches up, grasps his loose tie and tugs him towards you, lips meeting in a flurry of passion that neither of you are prepared for. Determined to show him your ‘bitchy side’, you wrap your lower legs around his calves and draw him in closer, his strong arms winding desperately around your frame as he kisses you desperately.

Mindlessly, you trail  your lips down his chin, moaning low in your throat when he tilts his head back to expose his throat. Your teeth lightly scrape down it, tongue feeling the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows hard. Your hand begins to palm him through his dress pants, soft material giving way as he releases a soft groan. 

“I could lose my job,” Joe breathes, as if he it means anything to the pair of you as you unbutton his pants and tug both them and his underwear to his mid-thighs, letting them fall the rest of the way as your fist secures around his half-hard member and strokes. The professor tosses his head back, reaches hands out and begins to pull at your clothing, eventually stripping you. God, his hands feel so good, so deliciously dirty as they rub over your skin and feel at breasts and hips and your hand doesn’t cease for a moment as you pull him in via his tie once more.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” you murmur against his lips, revelling in the feeling of him pushing you to lay on his desk, staring up at him as the sound of papers he has yet to mark fluttering to the ground fills your ears. He doesn’t care. His gaze has darkened, dangerously dominant as he regards you with calculation and lust. Two fingers slide down between your legs - and he has to admit, though very much hard by now, he’s surprised by how dripping wet you are. Meeting your eyes, he arches a brow before plunging two fingers into your soaking warmth.

“You’re not gonna breathe a word except the ones I tell ya to,” he growls, fingers moving a mile a minute. You begin to weaken under his touch, head thrown back as you grow accustomed to the feeling of his digits. You want more… but don’t quite dare ask, not yet. “I’m gonna have fun with this, [Y/N]. I’ve been wantin’ this for a while now - and I know you have too. Isn’t that right?”

              “Yes, God, yes…” 

You’re surprised by a light whack to your breast with plastic. Cracking your eyes open, you see his fist sporting a ruler. A surge of heat passes through to your core, has you spilling further onto his fingers. 

“Oh?” Joe purrs, smirk forming as he traces the cold plastic over your nipples and watches as you arch your back, first away and then towards it. “You like that? Address me as ‘Professor’ and maybe I’ll think about doin’ it more.”

                                                                              “Oh God, Professor, please…”

The teacher murmurs something under his breath before delivering a sharp whip of the ruler’s edge over your right nipple. The sound it tears out of you is something you’ve never heard before and as his fingers are removed and replaced with his thick erection, the sound is elevated into a high-pitched whine of satisfaction. The wait is over; finally you can feel him so completely, so entirely, hands moving to grip his shoulders as he pulls back and slams into you so hard you can’t stop the yelp that forces its way out of your mouth. Joe’s hand moves to lightly clasp over your throat, the other still occupied with the ruler.

“Tell me about how long you’ve been feelin’ this way, [Y/N],” he orders, hips moving at a rate that you almost can’t keep up with. Vision blurs as lust and pleasure and excitement flood and overload your system, a tinge of pain searing your chest as he uses the ruler once more when you don’t answer him promptly - his deep, almost cold, gaze doesn’t grant you any mercy. “Tell me, or I’ll stop.”

“Professor, I’ve thought about this so many times. Being bent over your desk and letting you have your way with me. In my head, you’ve fucked me senseless - made it so I couldn’t stand so I’d drop to my knees and suck your cock instead.”

The phallic words have the male grunting, nodding his head lightly in approval as he neglects the ruler and moves his fingers to stroke at your clit. First he’s soft, driving you completely insane with the touches that just don’t brush you enough before he’s applying so much pressure you all but convulse in his grip, heated pants of his title escaping your lips as you arch your back and beg to cum. It takes him a few moments to concede, the enjoyment he gains out of teasing you still not having run its full course, but eventually he leans in close, husky voice by your ear.

“Go on, baby. You’ve earned it. Cum hard or I swear to God, we’re goin’ again until you do.”

And the term of endearment sets your cheeks aflame as you toss your head back and let yourself go, hot juices spurting down your legs and coating your inner thighs as Joe pounds into you ever-faster, fingers curling into fists beside your head as he reaches the very tip of his limit. The professor isn’t even gentle as he drags you off of the desk, forces you onto your knees and pulls your hair to tip your head back. Making eye contact with him is the best decision you’ve ever made.

He reaches his end with ferocity, hot load hitting the back of your throat rather than your tongue, his seethed swallow it’ making your entire body tingle with renewed pleasure as you do as you’re told and then open your mouth to prove it. When satisfied, your teacher walks backwards and into his chair, letting loose a content sigh. You don’t think twice about it: you move forwards and climb into his lap, naked flesh mingling perfectly with his. His large hands stroke your knee, then the outside of your thigh and his mouth is so irresistible that you lean in and kiss him.

                                                                      “Thank you, Professor.”

lingering-nomad asked:

Just curious, what's your headcanon about the lyrium going all the way to Fenris' tender bits?

Well, on pre-notion, I HC’ed he didn’t have lyrium tattoo’s on his tender bits; if nothing else, the brands seem connected in a graceful ‘branch like’ effect - all connected, to where least it was traveling straight down his torso and down said naughty bits, it’d be seperated from the rest of the brands.

Or perhaps the three dots that are canon but someohow never made it in game.

I also flinch at the idea of the brands being there because he states on a few occasions that the lyrium brands hurt on default. Someone, the name escapes me, asks if his brands hurt to which he answers “You don’t want to know the answer to that”. 

He’s shown discomfort of the brands just for them existing, and has brushed Hawke’s hand off his shoulder a few times in game - which that’s not directly touching the armor but he still expresses no desire for the contact - and another occasion when the brands were directly touched resulted in Hawke getting slammed to the wall. Judging by Fenris’ reaction, he didn’t quite mean to go that far - or mean to hurt Hawke. [The flare, I took it, was an unintentional threat]. Simple fact is - it hurt, and he reacted.

So I’m just picturing this is chronic pain by itself to begin with, making even simple affections - well, painful. Kisses are painful via lyrium right to his bottom lip, hand-holding, even love-making / sex is going to be painful and there is no getting around it. I figure Fenris wants what he wants and he isn’t going to let the lyrium dictate his life - but he still stands off from physical affections for the mooost part. 

Now if lyrium were tattooed on his bits - I can’t imagine sex or love making even being worth the pain. I don’t know how he’d retain an erection long enough with as much discomfort as the brands cause - with either hands upon him or having anal sex or vagainal sex. It’s something utterly surrounding the brands which does not tickle. 

– I don’t think I’m that cruel to HC brands on his bits if it isn’t already canon. I couldn’t see my Fenris engaging in sex where he’s penetrating or letting a mouth or hand near him if otherwise.