#Benedict Cumberbatch smut

[geeky-politics-46]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 6

Sex Tape with Doctor Stephen Strange

"A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Summary: You are feeling self-concious & down on your appearance, but Stephen has an unconventional idea of how to make you realize how sexy & beautiful you really are.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - body image issues, voyeurism & exhibitionism via photo & video, dirty talk, swearing, pet names, oral sex, creampie, vaginal sex, slight daddy kink, a bit of fluff & a little angst.

You weren't even sure what had triggered your self-image issues at the moment. Honest to God, you were just sitting in bed watching a YouTube video, pursuing the sidebar recommended videos when you started comparing yourself to other people.

It didn't matter if it was just a random ad or a promo for a TV show. You started sizing yourself up to all the actresses, models, and even some normal people. No matter who it was, you felt you couldn't compare.

Your stomach was too big. Your butt was too small. You were too short. Too plain looking. Hell, sometimes you weren't even sure how you compared to average. You didn't think you were hideous, but you forever felt like the ugly duckling. Like the potential to be beautiful was there. It just never blossomed. Or, like you sabotaged being pretty by not having enough restraint to eat better or lose weight. 

For once in your life, you wanted to be the bombshell. You were too weird to be the girl next door. You always fell into the quirky/cute and funny category. People fell for you once they got to know your personality, but you knew that never once had you stopped a guy dead in his tracks across the room. 

In an effort to make yourself feel smaller, you dug around for your massive old sweatshirt. The one you wore whenever you were feeling sad. The material had piled up in places, and it was starting to get holes in others, but the super stretchy material still felt just as big and cozy as if it was brand new. The dark eggplant purple color was also somehow soothing compared to the mostly blacks and grays of your daily wardrobe.

You had settled back in, deep in your own thoughts, when your partner entered the bedroom. You had been with Doctor Stephen Strange for a while now. Long enough that you had more or less informally moved into the Sanctum. You got to spend more time with Stephen and didn't have to pay rent. It was a win-win. The only downside was that you couldn't hide from him when your inner demons reared up. 

You didn't even realize he had been talking to you as he changed out of his sorcerer's robes and into his sweats for bed. It wasn't until he sat down in front of you and lifted your chin up to look directly at him that you realized you weren't paying any attention to a thing he was saying. 

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

You hated the genuine concern on his face. He spent his days literally saving the universe, and here you were trapped inside your own spiraling thoughts. 

"Nothing is wrong."

You said it while staring down at your hands. You were never good at hiding things from Stephen when you were face to face.

"Even if I wasn't a brilliant doctor, MD, and PhD, I know that's your 'I'm sad' sweatshirt. So something is definitely wrong." 

You closed your eyes and shook your head, trying to jiggle loose the thoughts that were waying you down. Not wanting to waste Stephen's time with your shallow worries. Yeah, he was your boyfriend, but he had plenty more vastly important things to do than talk you off a self-image cliff.

"It's stupid, Stephen."

"Don't care. You've listened to me say stupid stuff plenty of times. This just makes us one closer to even."

You rolled your eyes at him, and you knew he wasn't about to give up. Stephen was the most stubborn person you had ever met. In fact, his stubbornness was part of why he pursued you for so long before you finally agreed to go out with him. If he was set on finding out what was bothering you, nothing would stop him until you told him.

So after another moment of trying to get him off the topic, you finally relented and told him what had you feeling down. Shrinking down farther into your sweatshirt as you spoke, fumbling for the right words. Letting the cozy fabric serve as its own kind of armor.

"I don't even know what got me thinking it, but I'm just feeling down on myself. That there just isn't anything about me physically that is special. I don't think I'm ugly, I just don't get why you bothered to even give me a second glance. Let alone what keeps you interested. You are the great Doctor Strange. You are so hot, Stephen, and I'm just me. I'm just plain. I'm chubby with stretch marks. You are gorgeous. You could literally be with the most beautiful women in the world."

You could see him almost flinch when you called yourself plain and that you doubted how enamored he was with you. Even if he knew it was only a passing thought, he never wanted you to question his love for you. Ever.

When it took a few moments for him to say anything in response, you immediately started to take it all back. Not wanting to drag him down into your funk with you.

"See, I shouldn't have said anything, I'm just having a bad night and -" 

Stephen cut you off with a passionate kiss. The kind of kiss that could make you forget your own name. Cupping your face in both of his hands before pulling away from your lips to place several more small kisses on your forehead and in your hairline. Gradually adjusting so he could pull you closer and wrap his arms tighter around you.

"First of all, I love you so much you don't even know. So don't think for one second I would rather be with anyone else. Second of all, I know that you don't necessarily see what I see when you look in the mirror, and you don't even have to believe me, but you are gorgeous. Do you not see that half the other guys practically trail you around like puppies? Rogers turns bright red when you smile at him, and it's a wonder Barnes and Wilson haven't followed you home like strays yet."

That made you laugh. You did know Steve had harbored a crush on you before you started dating Stephen. Tony had let that spill one night after a party. Both Sam and Bucky were such flirts all the time with everyone. Of course, they always acted sweet on you. You assumed it was just them or their way of being nice. You would have to pay better attention next time you saw them, though. Just to see. 

"If one of them does follow me home, can I keep him?" 

You squinted your eyes and pouted your lips at Stephen. You loved giving him a hard time, and he loved giving you one right back.

"Absolutely not. Even if they scratch and howl at the door all night long. I'm the only one who gets to keep strays, and that only applies to America. On a good day, maybe Parker."

You giggled and shook your head in agreement. America was definitely a great addition to your little family. It did lift your spirits a little thinking about all of that, but it still didn't leave you feeling better about yourself. 

Stephen could see the way you were picking at the skin on your hands. Like you were trying to pick away the self-consciousness or what you felt were imperfections. It was a habit he noticed you fell into when you were extra hard on yourself. So, in an effort to distract you and stop you from picking at your skin, he took one of your hands in both of his.

"Do you remember the day you held my hand the first time? Do you have any idea how terrified I was? I was terrified that you were suddenly going to realize how broken and ugly my hands are. How damaged I am, and realize just how below your own league you were dating. Still are, by the way, so maybe I shouldn't say anything. You are the sexiest most beautiful woman I have ever met, inside and out. Every inch of you is incredible and perfect to me. I thought that before you even said a word to me, and getting to know you, and falling in love with you has only made me more sure. There is no one in this universe I could ever find sexier or more special."

"Tell you what, I have an idea..." 

Stephen stood up from the bed, moving over to shut the bedroom door. Throwing the lock, too. Now that you had a teenager running about the Sanctum, it was better safe than sorry. Then, he pulled his phone from his pocket. Setting it on airplane mode as he walked back over to you.

"How about I show you what I see? Give you some actual physical proof of how beautiful you are? A picture is worth a thousand words. I imagine some more revealing, naughty photos would be worth even more."

You chuffed at him and raised a questioning brow at his suggestion. 

"Stephen, are you seriously suggesting that I let you take naked photos of me as a way of making me feel better about myself? Are you sure that isn't just gonna make you feel better?" 

His signature cheeky grin was plastered on his face, and his bright blue eyes were twinkling with mischief.

"Can't it do both? Besides, you know I've asked before for something I can enjoy when I can't have you with me, and I think you look perfect right now. Already in our bed. Already cozy and dressed for bed. Few layers to take off. This is the you I want to see when I'm not here with you."

He came over to where you were still sitting on the bed. An extra swagger in his step and a grin because of the blush you were now sporting. He started to pull teasingly at the hem of your sweatshirt with the hand he didn't have his phone in.

"Come on, take this off. I want you to see how sexy you are. I promise I will let you delete them if you want, although I certainly wouldn't mind keeping a couple for myself, but I want you to see how you look when it's just you and me. Right here, in this bed. The version of you that only I get to see, at least I do hope it's only me. A woman who puts all those supermodels and Playmates to shame. Even first thing in the morning. A goddess if one ever existed, even with bedhead and morning breath." 

Layer by layer, you let Stephen slowly strip off your clothes and arrange you on the bed. His fingers and lips adoring every new inch of skin that he exposed before proceeding to take picture after picture. Lovingly caressing every spot you deemed less than perfect. Letting him talk you through pose after pose. Some were simple and basic, normal poses. Some a bit more sultry with little left to imagine. The less clothing remained, the more bold he got with your poses. 

As your impromptu photoshoot went on, he also tried to distract you from feeling self-conscious about your body coming into view. Sometimes, by making you laugh. Sometimes, by getting a goofy look on his face as he just kind of stared at you. Almost awestruck. 

"You really have no idea how much I fantasize about you, do you? How much of my day I spend trying not to think about you? How when we first started dating, I felt like a teenager trying to control his raging hormones because all I could think of was this. What it would be like if I got the privilege to get this beautiful, incredible woman naked in my bed. That I swore if I got you here, I would never let you leave. I hate that someone ever made you feel like you are anything less than gorgeous, whether in your ratty sad sweatshirt or all dressed up. Although, this, no clothes at all, is definitely my personal favorite."

You tried not to tear up at his genuine sweetness. You could feel your cheeks blushing at his statement, too. You buried your face into the pillow you were holding before softly turning and peeking out at him from the side. Only to find him waiting for the moment you locked eyes with him to take a photo. 

In a sudden burst of confidence, you bit your bottom lip and rolled onto your back. Letting the entirety of your body be on display. Laying back and resting your head on the pillow and stretching your arms up overhead, your legs spreading on their own. You closed your eyes and arched your back as you inhaled deeply. Like you were a cat basking in the warmth of the sun. 

Your mind was completely clear of all thought until you heard a stuttered breath from your lover. It was a sound you had never heard Stephen make before. It sounded like he was looking at a priceless piece of art or one of the seven wonders. He sounded like he was in awe. Like he was in awe at the sight of your body and your beauty.

You were about to dismiss his, what you were sure had to be, over embellished praise, but then you opened your eyes. You were rendered speechless by the look of utter wonder on his face as he let his cerulean blue eyes wash over every inch of you. For possibly the first time, you saw him really seeing you, and it melted any remaining self-doubt you had in that moment.

You immediately reached out to pull Stephen to you. Wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him sweetly. Rubbing your nose against his and whispering loving thanks against his lips.

"Thank you, Stephen. I love you, and even though I don't necessarily see what you see, you always make me feel beautiful. Why don't we take a few pictures together, or maybe a video or two? Maybe I want something for when you aren't here too." 

Stephen's eyes darkened at the suggestion. You had your suspicion that Stephen had a bit of an exhibition kink. You had sent each other pics before, a short video clip or two, and sexted all the time. You knew the idea of filming the two of you fucking would intrigue him. A wicked smile found it's way to his face. 

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea how many times I've thought of you asking that or that I've thought of asking. Are you really okay with filming us fucking? Of course it's just for the two of us. Sorcerer's honor. " 

Stephen started trying to fiddle with the phone, trying to figure out the best way to set it up to film the two of you. Finding it hard to concentrate after you started leaving kisses on his neck. Stopping to bite and suck at the spot just below his earlobe before continuing to whisper his darkest desires in his ear.

"Well, Stephen, actually the idea does get me a little hot. Maybe if the video turns out really good, a few seconds or minutes can get leaked to a naughty site or two. Anonymously, of course. I don't want to share you with any other woman, but I wouldn't mind showing off all the ways I worship you. Let everyone see how lucky I am. Maybe get some outside opinions of how we look together." 

Stephen's eyes practically rolled back in his head at the thought. He never would suggest it himself, but he kind of loved the sound of that. Of the world getting to see how good the two of you looked together. Of seeing how well you both fit together. How your bodies were made for each other.

He scrambled off the bed using the pile of books on the dresser to create a tripod to set up the phone. Hitting record and making sure the bed was centered in the frame before coming back to join you in the sheets again. He used his magic to strip himself of his clothes. If you two were going to make a sex tape, he was gonna put some extra showmanship in it.

You couldn't help but giggle as you reach your arms out towards him. Stepben didn't waste a minute before he started crawling up your body. Teasing and nipping at your bare skin and making sure to snuggle and rub his goatee against you. Your hands immediately grabbed in his dark brown hair, loving how soft and full it felt in your fingers. 

As your lips connected, you both groaned in pleasure. Your bodies grinding and rubbing. Letting your hands roam all over Stephen's body now that you had plenty of him to touch. You could feel Stephen's cock already erect between you. Truth be told, taking those photos of you had essentially acted as foreplay for him. He was ready to go by the time he was setting up the camera. 

You moaned when you felt his hard shaft slide against the crease of your hip, so close to your sex that was starting to ache for him. Your legs reflexively spread even more on the large bed, and your nails scraped down Stephen's sides. 

"Is there something you want, baby? Tell Daddy what you need."

A sly smile on his face as he spoke. Loud enough to make sure the camera heard. Descending back on you and starting to kiss your neck. Sucking a patch or skin into his mouth hard enough to ensure you would bear a mark the next day.

Your brain finally coming back into focus when he playfully bit the same sensitive spot. His bright blue eyes met yours, and he gave you a cheeky wink. 

"Come on, pretty baby. Don't get all shy on me now. Not after you let me take all those naughty pictures of you. Plus, this part was your idea, after all. So you better speak up."

A soft groan pulled from your throat as you arched your back and ran your hands up his strong arms. Letting your fingernails scrape along his shoulders. Leaving little red scratches marking him as yours. 

"Want you, Stephen. Want you to fuck me. Pretty please, Stephen. Fuck me like only you can, baby."

He rewarded you with a deep kiss, letting his teeth nip at your bottom lip before he started working his way down your neck. Stopping to whisper a "that's my good girl" in your ear before continuing down to your collarbones. Raising his voice once again so it would be audible on the video when he started speaking again.

"You know you are the only one I want to fuck right? This is the only body that gets me this fucking hard. Your's is the only pretty little pussy I dream about filling up every chance I get. Want you full of my cum all the time. Want everyone to know you're mine." 

You felt over the moon as Stephen started to kiss his way down your body. Stopping and spending a little bit of extra attention every time he hit a spot that elicited a gasp or moan. Making you arch your back to give him access to every inch of bare skin you could.

He momentarily popped back up to kiss your lips. Suddenly taking your hand in his and lowering it so you were cupping his hard length. Letting his hips rut forward as you started to eagerly massage his hard cock. Already moving to sit up, anticipating taking him in your mouth, only for him to push you back down on the bed.

"Nope, I'm not done with you, baby, lay back. Just wanted you to feel how hard you got me. Feel how much taking those naughty photos of you turned me on? And they are all mine to enjoy, just like my cock is all yours to enjoy."

With that, he promptly began working his way back down your body. Coming to rest between your thighs, pulling your legs up over his shoulders. Leaving small nips on the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh and rubbing his facial hair against your skin to tease you.

A soft "Stephen, please!" escaped from your lips as you impatiently waited for his lips and tongue to work their magic on you. Feeling your hips thrust on their own when you felt him blow against your wet cunt. Making your sex flutter and clench. One of his favorite sights. 

"Make sure you don't hold back any of those pretty noises darling, want to make sure everyone can hear. Look at the camera as I eat you out, baby." 

You followed his instructions and let your head turn to the side. Keeping your eyes open as you stared into the lens. Trying to fight the inkling of self-consciousness tugging at the back of your mind. 

Those thoughts vanished completely the moment you felt Stephen's warm tongue make its first pass through your folds. All you could focus on was the feeling of his mouth on you. The scratch of his goatee against your most sensitive spots. He was taking his time. Lavishing your cunt with long licks and sucking kisses.

Stephen was a perfectionist, and that translated into every aspect of his life. Including sex. His photographic memory helping to make sure he knew exactly what way to lick and suck at your pussy to bring you to climax in record time. Only using his fingers on occasion. He could get you there with his mouth alone. Tonight was clearly going to be one of those nights.

Your back arched as he suckled on your clit. Keeping your gaze locked on the camera lens. Making sure to give Stephen the sights and sounds he wanted for your video. A long moan falling when you felt his tongue thrusting in and out of you. Hitching your legs up higher and farther apart so he could go deeper while letting your hips start to rut against his face.

As soon as he could feel you getting close to orgasm, Stephen pulled away and pounced on you once again. Wasting no time before he started to slowly thrust his hard cock into you. His lips biting at your neck.

He growled when you whimpered at the feeling of his cock bottoming out inside you. Holding perfectly still and letting you start to squirm beneath him. Wanting you to beg him to move. 

"Tell me what you want. Want you to say it again. Say it to the camera, sweetheart. Tell them why you're whimpering."

Your face now contorted into a pout as you tried so hard to get any sort of friction. Stephen's hips pushed flush to yours, holding you firmly in place.

"Want you to fuck me, Stephen. Need you to fuck me hard. Make me feel good, daddy. Please make me cum. Please."

He smiled and kissed you deeply. Bringing his hands to cup your face and giving you another moment of sweet intimacy before he gave you what you wanted. Pulling away and pulling your legs up over his shoulders. Scooting you just a little so the camera would be able to see his cock stretching and filling you. Once he had you right where he wanted you he began thrusting. 

"You asked for it, sweetheart. You turn me on so fucking much. This is just gonna be the first time I make you cum tonight. I'm not gonna stop until you feel like a goddess. My goddess." 

You reached up to intertwine you fingers with his as he started fucking you harder. Leaning forward so your ass was slightly lifted up off of the bed and his tip was pummeling that sweet spongy spot on your front wall. Making you clench around him each time he hit it. Your voice coming out in little squeaks and the sound of skin slapping punctuating Stephen's movements. 

You could already feel your orgasm building when Stephen moved to bring one hand down to begin rubbing at your clit. Pulling his cock out long enough to smear some of your wetness on the swollen bundle of nerves. Your cunt immediately clenching around him as he started tracing small circles there with his thumb. 

"That's it, my love. Can feel you getting close. You better cum soon because I'm not gonna be able to hold on much longer. Wanna fill you up every day. Mark you as mine. Inside and out. Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum."

Stephen's own dirty talk getting the best of him. His head dropping down to watch his cock slamming in and out of your drenched cunt. Your pussy gripping tight around him sending him over the edge. His thrusts getting faster and his fingers on your clit mirroring his hips.

He let out a deep groan as he started cumming inside you. The feeling of his warm thick cum filling you triggering your own orgasm. Your cunt drenching his cock and his cum filling you completely. Your moans mingling in harmony with Stephen's. Your hands that were still clasped gripping each other tighter. 

Stephen's body falling onto yours and your lips meeting for slow, sweet kisses as your highs continued to ebb and flow. The sensations slowly fading as you came back down together. The feeling of Stephen's weight on top of you lulling you closer to sleep. All worries and neuroses disappearing and receding back into the depths of your mind. 

You were with Stephen, and Stephen loved you exactly as you were. He only had eyes for you, and he would love you no matter what. Even on days when you couldn't see your beauty, you knew he would help you to see it. Even when you didn't love yourself, he would give you enough love for both of you.

Eventually, Stephen rolled to the side and pulled you with him. Settling you under the covers and holding you close. Pressing kisses all over your face as you floated in the twilight space between waking and sleep. Not moving or pulling away until your breath settled into a steady rhythm that told him you were close to sleep.

Then Stephen stood up and went over to the phone. Stopping the recording and bringing the phone back over to the bed. Setting it down on his nightstand and purposely not setting his usual morning alarm. He wanted to sleep in with you tomorrow. He would deal with Wong later.

You were too exhausted to review the products of your photoshoot right now, but the next time you were feeling down or self-conscious, Stephen would be ready to show you just how beautiful you really were. If you still didn't believe him, maybe he would bring up the idea of an outside opinion like you suggested. You would have the world drooling over you, and he would get to gloat that you were all his.

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

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[wint3r-h3art]

It’s You, It’s always Been you

Pairing: Stephen Strange x f!Reader

Summary: It’s a known fact that you are in love with Stephen Strange. It’s also a known fact that Stephen Strange is still in love with Dr. Palmer. When Stephen asked you to be his wedding date though, you’re starting to regret your decision. A confession from the doctor himself, changes everything.

Word count: 3.0K (I got carried away, oops)

Genre: angst, unrequited love, confession, overall feels!, and soft smut (of course)

A/N: There’s no major MoM spoilers, just the beginning with the wedding and all that. As much as I love Stephen being a complete daddy in MoM, I need to write me some soft smut. No beta, so if I missed anything, It’s my fault. If you enjoyed this, please please comment and reblog. It just means a lot. Please follow @wint3r-library​ and turn on post notification for fic update.

Strange was getting impatient with you.

You haven’t noticed it yet, but with all your inability to sit still during Doctor Palmer’s wedding, you were getting on his last nerve. 

Another heavy sigh fell from your lips as you sat there beside him, slouching slightly because you really wanted to shift your body. Your fingers fiddled in your laps as you were trying very hard to pay attention to the ceremony, quite unaware of the piercing gaze from the man beside you. 

It wasn’t like you were nervous about being the date to the bride’s ex or anything. You really didn’t need to be there, especially when Stephen couldn’t figure out what his feelings toward Christine were.

There was no doubt that the man looked as delectable as it can be in that suit, and there was no doubt that you would jump at his bones if the opportunity presented itself. However, you needed to stop saying yes to him all the time when you were dying on the inside.

Stephen exhaled sharply through his nose before he covered your hand with his. Warmness shot through you as you sat there. You bit the inside of his cheek. His hand was trembling slightly. You couldn’t help but turned your gaze to him.

His brow quirked but said nothing. He was completely unaware of the stinging pain you experienced every time you watched his eyes glimmer whenever his gaze fell on Dr. Palmer, of course. You wished the ceremony ended already. There was so much you could take. Sometimes you wished that Happy had never introduced you to him. 

You let out a sharp exhale once he let go of your hand and stood up. Once again, your heart felt heavy as your gaze followed his following Christine walking down the aisle with her new husband. Your heart was heavy as you looked at the man before you trying to hold it in. He was too proud to say it, but Strange was never really over her.

You couldn’t be anymore happier the moment the ceremony was over. You found yourself stationed by the bar, chugging wine and avoiding Strange as best as possible. The plan was going well so far until your date found you.

“I’m starting to think that even my own date is avoiding me,” came a voice behind you. His low baritone voice sent a slight tremor through you, sending your nerve into a frenzy. Heat flooded your cheek as your heart beat frantically against your chest. You wanted to run, perhaps you wanted to go back to your apartment. Whatever it was, you really didn’t want to deal with him right now. 

“Not avoiding you,” you mumbled before chugging the last remnant of your drink.

Stephen sighed before ordering himself a martini, his eyes were still on you though. “Your body language said otherwise.”

“You shouldn’t bring me here,” you finally looked at him. “She’ll think that you and I are together or something.”

“And that’s bad because…?” 

“You’re kidding, right?” You laughed out loud from sheer discomfort as you stared at him. You watched as the bartender set his drink down before you quickly snatched it away from Strange. He could sense your nervous energy from miles away, which made him wonder how you got to become Happy Hogan’s assistant in the first place. 

“I wasn’t.”

The firmness in his tone made your heart skip a beat. 

“She asked me if I’m happy,” he said, but he didn’t look at you. Instead, his gaze fell for the bride once more. You had to bite back your uncomfortable laugh before you looked elsewhere, trying to hide your expression. It was getting harder and harder to hide anything at all from him.

“And I told her that I am…”

“Which is a lie…” You pressed your lips together into a straight line. 

“You don’t know that. For all you know, I am quite content with what I have right now.”

“Stephen…,” you gave him a look, but his expression was unreadable. “I may not know your history with Dr. Palmer, but I do know that you are a proud man.”

“I am, and you like that,” Stephen teased, trying to hide the small smile as he watched your reaction. You didn’t disappoint him of course as you were slowly and gradually getting flustered. 

“I-Um...Oh, that’s just mean,” you shook your head before you slowly walked away from him. 

It has been a well-known fact that you have some feelings for him at one point. It was also a known fact that it was a textbook definition of one-sided love. It was one thing to tease you occasionally, but it was another thing to simply play with your heart. You know Strange was cold, but you’ve never thought that he could be this cruel.  “I know I shouldn’t say yes to this,” you mumbled to yourself. You could hear him calling out to you, but you didn’t care. Instead, you turned and headed straight out.

A familiar feminine voice called out your name, making you stop in your tracks. You could feel Stephen Strange not too far behind you. You took a deep breath before turning around and forcing a smile. It made your face hurt. It reminded you of why you have to resign from being Happy’s assistant in the first place. The acting wasn’t for you. 

“Doctor Palmer! Congratulations!” you chirped as she made her way toward you. Stephen simply put his hand in his pocket as he watched on with a martini in another hand. You frowned slightly, wondering why he decided to linger there instead of sashay away from you.

“Thank you! I appreciate that. I’m so happy that you can make it–You and Stephen—”

“Oh, I’m just here for moral support,” you quickly cut her off before she could say anything that could potentially make your relationship with Stephen Strange any more awkward. 

Doctor Palmer nodded, but a smile still remained on her face. “Yeah..um, I just want to say that I’m very happy that you and he are togeth–”

“Um, definitely not together,” you quickly cut in again. You couldn’t feel his gaze burned into your back. “Again, I’m here just for moral support, and nothing more.”

Doctor Palmer looked at you momentarily before she looked at Strange, clearly confused. “Right....Well, I hope you enjoy the party. I’ll see you two later,”  she bid you goodbye before giving Stephen a nod.

The moment she was out of your earshot, you let out another sigh of relief, but you knew damn well that Stephen wasn’t happy with your answer at all. Your gaze turned to him, but he didn’t say anything.

“Don’t start,” you pinched the bridge of your nose and headed to the hallway. “I know I’m supposed to make you look good in front of your ex and all that, but I don’t think I can lie.” You were basically rambling at this point as Stephen Strange followed you not too far behind. 

The sound of your high heels clicking against the marble floor echoed through the quiet hall as you hurried out. 

“I didn’t ask you to lie for me,” came his voice not too far behind, but you didn’t stop. Instead, you continued to walk until you both reached the elevator. 

“It kinda feels that way when you asked me to be your plus one though,…Look, whatever you are going through, I just can’t…It’s–” you stopped yourself. How would you tell him that you still have feelings for him? “It’s unfair to me.”

Stephen was standing only a few feet from you know. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

You expected a smartass comment from him, not this. You were speechless at his admission as the two of you stood there in the empty hallway. Your heart felt like it was about to burst the more you looked at him. “When Christine asked me if I was happy, I said yes…I told her that I found someone.”

You remained silent as he took a few steps forward until he was only a few inches away from you. The smell of his cologne filled your nostril, lulling you into a haze. “It took me some time to realize it, but I…”

You swallowed as he cradled your face in his hands. Heat flooded your face at the closeness between the two of you. His thumb pressed against your cheek, his gaze softened, melted into a pair of liquid sapphires. “I made up my mind.”

“About what?” You realized that your words came out no more than a breath as your hand covered his. Stephen was inching closer. Your heart felt like it was going to leap out of your chest at the pure anticipation alone. When his lips touched yours for the very first time, you felt like you were about to soar. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you melt into him. He was holding you there, kissing you with a passion that you’ve never known he was capable of. His hand trailed to the nape. The rough pad of his fingers gently grazed across your skin, leaving trails of goosebumps behind. You gasped at that, and Stephen took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

Your heart pounded heavily against your chest as he deepened the kiss. His tongue tangled and clashed with yours. Twisting and rolling, leaving you both breathless and panting.  He was kissing you with desperation–a need that was new to you. You moaned at the sweetness that lingered on his tongue, and every time he let out a low, rumbling groan, you felt your panty dampen slightly.  

Stephen walked you backward until the back of your knees hit something soft. You quickly pulled away from the kiss, only to find the two of you standing right in your bedroom. “Did you just teleport us here?” It was a dumb question, but you felt the need for some air–or at least something that doesn’t involve Stephen Strange sticking his tongue down your throat.

“Yes,” he said firmly as he discarded his suit jacket and dropped it right onto the floor. He looked flushed, disheveled almost by the way strays of his neatly combed hair came undone. His fingers tugged at his tie impatiently, loosening it before he undid a few buttons at the top till he revealed his chiseled chest. The sight made your throat go dry.

 Stephen’s mouth was on you again, this time he was less discreet than before. He kissed you with urgency and hunger that set your nerve ablaze. He gently laid you down on your soft mattress while his mouth was still on yours. His lips traveled southward, and your body surrendered to him without a thought. Your head tilted to the side, revealing the tender skin of your neck to him. His lips trailed down, tongue grazed slightly here and there as if he was tasting you. A throaty moan ripped between your lips as Strange suckled on your pulse point, and gently nipped at it before licking the same spot over. His free hand slowly lowered the straps of your dress to your waist. He stared at you momentarily as if to admire a piece of art–No, you were more than a piece of art to him. You were the sun, the moon, and the universe all wrapped up into one. You were the cosmic force that keep him grounded all this time.

Stephen said nothing before he lowered his head to kiss you once more. His name fell from your lips in no more than a breathless whisper as his beard tickled your skin, making you ache and throb for him. Stephen was lost in the moment as his lips were lingering in the space between the valley of your breasts. 

You called out his name once again as your arms snaked around his head. Stephen Strange moaned deeply, sending a reverberation through you as if to assure you that he wasn’t going anywhere. He captured your taut peak in his mouth and began to suckle on it. He was sucking gently at first, then harder, gently nipping at the bud till you cried out, only to soothe you gently with his tongue.

He moved on top of you and pulled your dress all the way off your body. You laid there completely bare underneath him. Stephen’s hand moved to the juncture between your legs and let his fingers graze at your clothed slit. His nostrils flared as he let out a sharp exhale when he found that your panty was drenching.

Stephen gently rubbed you through your panty, eliciting a soft gasping noise out of you first before he ripped the flimsy fabric away from you. His mouth moved to your breast once more, tongue flickering over the sensitive bud, while his dexterous fingers gently pry you open. Your first instinct was to close your legs, but Stephen wasn’t having it. He pressed his knees wide, forcing you to open to him. 

Your head fell back against the soft mattress when you felt that he was knuckle deep inside you as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of you with ease. A shaky moan slipped out of your lips as he pulled his digits back and pushed them inside you again while his mouth was still occupied by your tit.

You begged him almost pathetically, your hand bunched at his hair when he pressed his thumb against your clit. 

“Say my name again, baby,” he murmured. The low baritone voice made your pussy throb and clenched around his fingers. Only Stephen Strange had that sort of effect on you. He was watching you now, probing himself on his elbow while the other hand continued to pump in and out of your pussy with vigor.

A smile etched upon his lips as he felt your body tense up around him. Still, he continued with a relentless pace until an orgasm ripped right out of you, causing your body to strain and spasm. Your face scrunched up as you dug your heels into the mattress as the first wave of euphoria washed over you.  

“That’s it, baby. Cum to me. Squeeze on my fingers like you want to squeeze on my cock.” Stephen growled as he pressed his forehead onto yours. Perspiration dampened it while you could only reply with a choking sob. 

Stephen finally removed his fingers from your sopping wetness as he stared at you. His lips pressed against your forehead. He kissed you tenderly before he pulled back and began to unbuckle his pants. 

You watched him with half hooded eyes as he got up from the bed and hastily removed his pants. You swallowed as you watched him stroking himself. The sight made your pussy throb once more as more slick was leaking out of you. Stephen licked his lips at that. 

“I don’t have a condom,” he admitted sheepishly as he continued to stroke his erect cock. It was hard to concentrate on his words when your brain only wanted one thing. 

“I’m on birth control…” you told him as you sat up and pulled him to you. Stephen settled between your thighs once more. His face strained, jaw clenched tightly as he rubbed the head of his cock along your slit. The action made your legs shake slightly as your eyes caught his. “It’s ok, Stephen.”

He growled at the invitation before he swiftly entered you, causing you to hissed sharply. A strangled moan left his lips as your tightness enveloped him. You could feel Strange tremble above you as he was trying to control himself from moving too erratically. Stephen pulled back then eased himself back in again till he was all the way in. His hips arched fluidly, driving himself in and out of you with fervor. You could feel his balls slapped against your ass every time he sheathed himself inside of you.

His hard body pressed against yours closely that you could feel every twitch of his muscles, coiling and bunching from the effort of his movements. Your arms wounded around his neck again as he rutted into you. His lips found your neck once more as he kissed and nipped at it. 

You were getting close again as that familiar tightness at the pit of your stomach threatened to snap. It wasn’t long now until that delicious burst of euphoria ripped through you again. It didn’t take long till you cried out and clenched around him, milking him until he too reached his own release. Still, Stephen was still chasing his own, fucking you and using you to sate his own appetite.

Stephen came not too long after, spending himself right onto your stomach. His body went limp next to you, panting and exhausted from the deed. 

The silence stretched out between the two of you. Where would you go from here? You and Stephen had yet to establish what this was? Was this a one-time deal? Were his words simply a lie or was everything simply a dream to you?

You felt him stirring beside you before his warmness left your body. Your first initial thought was that he was leaving, but that sort of negativity soon melted away when he came back with a damp towel pressed against your stomach. His movement was gentle, yet exact. Still, you could feel his trembling hand moving over your stomach.

Your eyes caught him again, and words failed you. You didn’t know what to say. 

“I suppose you are wondering what we are now?”

You nodded. You wanted to laugh because you really didn’t expect to have this type of conversation at all with him when you were both naked. 

“You’ve never told me who that someone is–the person that makes you happy.”

Stephen Strange was caught off guard for the first time in his life as he could only react with an “Oh.”

Your face warned once more as your heart drummed against your chest. A knowing smile quirked on his lips. “Well, It’s you, sweetheart. It has always been you.”

The word rolled off his tongue easily, making your stomach do a backflip. You couldn’t hide the smile anymore when he leaned and brushed his nose against your cheek, kissing you and whispering naughty things into your ears.

Perhaps, this wasn’t a dream after all.

#wint3r h3art #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange x you #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #doctor strange smut #stephen strange smut #dr strange x reader #dr strange x you #dr strange smut #doctor strange drabble #dr strange drabble #stephen strange drabble #stephen strange oneshot #doctor strange one shot #marvel mcu #benedict cumberbatch smut

[daydreamtofiction]

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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#benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch imagine #benedict cumberbatch smut #benedict cumberbatch fanfic #benedict cumberbatch fanfiction #priest!benedict #priest kink #hot priest #fanfic smut #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic writing #smut writing #smut fanfiction #smut #eventual smut #lemon #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch x you #benedict x reader #benedict x you #fanfic series #sherlock smut

[little-diable]

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

[strangelockd]

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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#doctor strange #benedict cumberbatch #doctor stephen strange #sinister strange #because benedict cumberbatch #stephen strange #doctor strange in the multiverse of madness #doctor strange 2 #dr stephen strange #dr strange #benedict cumberbatch imagine #benedict cumberbatch smut #benedict cumberbatch fan fic #sinister #sinister strange smut #sinister strange x you #sinister strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #doctor stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x female reader #doctor strange x you #doctor strange x female reader #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange x y/n #harry styles

[lilyroseluthor]

Professor!Batch...

...

...

@daydreamtofiction I have a request 🥵

#benedict cumberbatch #Benedict cumberbatch smut #Benedict cumberbatch Fanfiction #benedict cumberbatch rpf

[marvel-snape-writes]

The thought of Ben all worked up in the wings/backstage of an awards show but being denied the one thing he wants is so stupidly sexy I just had to jot down this random bit of drabble… enjoy 😶

“Give me…” Benedict spoke out of breath from how badly he wanted it, “One good reason why I shouldn’t have you right here.”

“I’ll do better than that,” She responded, sliding her hands up his chest and onto his shoulders while remaining pressed up against the wall, “I’ll give you two.”

“Go ahead.” He swallowed hard, trying to ignore her fingertips now dancing along his belt.

“The first is that we’re in the wings of a live television broadcast, anyone could approach us at any moment,” She spoke tauntingly close to his lips, “The second being that you’re due to accept or present an award at any moment, too.”

“Fuck that,” He shook his head, opening his heavy eyes briefly before leaning in, in an attempt of kissing her lips and groaning when she turned her head, resulting in his lips just skimming her cheek, “Want you now.” He whimpered into her ear.

“Ben, you can’t even talk in full sentences…” She exhaled a soft giggle, hooking her index fingers into his belt loops and purposely pulling him closer.

“Your fault…” He hissed through his teeth as their bodies touched.

“Getting out there will make it stop.” She shrugged, lightly tugging on his belt loops a coupe of times.

“Don’t want it to stop,” He leaned in again to try and kiss her lips but only kissing the air as she moved back again, “Don’t want you to stop.”

She grinned from his several attempts at both trying to kiss her or form a full sentence — enjoying having the upper hand and enjoying his reaction even more. She let out a shaky breath from the sound of his teeth clattering together from his failed attempts of nipping her bottom lip between them. He dipped his head forward several times as his trembling hands moved up and down her sides, desperately trying to grasp onto her clothing and getting evidently more and more worked up each time she denied him a kiss.

“Ben,” she smirked, turning her head again, “Ben,” she repeated, unhooking one of her hands from his belt loop and pressing her index finger against his pursed lips, “Ben.” She spoke in a more firm tone as he brushed his lips against her finger.

“Hm?” He parted his lips, pushing the tip of her finger into his mouth before whining in frustration as she pulled it back.

“Behave yourself.” She spoke lowly, gazing up at him as she pressed her index finger against his lips with a little more pressure this time.

—

I don’t know what to continue with or whether to continue at all… so if you have any comment or input, feel free to let me know 😂♥️

#benedict cumberbatch smut #benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch fanfic #doctor strange #stephen strange #marvel #multiverse of madness #marvel cinematic universe #doctor strange in the multiverse of madness #fanfic #fanfiction #doctor strange smut #stephen strange smut #marvel multiverse #smut

[annesthaeticc]

Hold On, We're Going Home | Benedict Cumberbatch x Fem!Reader

Hold On, We're Going Home | Benedict Cumberbatch x Fem!Reader

| a song fic; Hold On, We're Going Home by Drake and Majid Jordan (listen to the song here)

| RATED 18+. contains fluff, and smut (porn with plot, p in v sex, dirty talking, creampie)

| 4,800 words

| After an exhausting night of attending an awards ceremony, Benedict is nothing but happy to take you home and spend the rest of the night with you and only you.

| NOTE : hey! how're you doing? hope ur having a great day/night! this has to be the longest one shot fic i've written so far, i hope you enjoy the long-ish read! and it has been a while since i wrote a song fic, feels so good to go back to my roots! lemme know ur thoughts about this one! comments, hearts, REBLOGS make my day! <3

The twinkling lights of the city looked so faraway, yet so bright. Everytime he blinked his eyes, it became blurred, like tiny multi-colored bubbles flashing. He tapped his finger absentmindedly against the rim of his whiskey glass, thinking if he should take another sip. His eyes started to focus on his reflection on the glass window, shifting to his dapper vision. He watched himself on the glass, thinking how he looked good. Must be the effect of the alcohol, he thought. He then sipped the last of the contents of his glass, then settled it on the marble countertop nearby. 

The pacing started. His leather shoes started to create a path to and fro, back and forth on the carpeted floor. He balled his fist, then opened it, like he was squeezing an imaginary stress ball. His fingers itched to touch his hair, wanting to run his fingers on it nervously. But he figured Don wouldn’t be too pleased if he saw him already disheveled. He knew his stylist put a lot of effort on getting his curls together, and he’d rather not mess it up. He started to take deep breaths in time of his pacing. He prayed the air conditioning was cold enough to dry the sweat that was starting to form on his eyebrow. 

Finally, he internally sighed as he heard the door click open. Then you stepped into the room and instantly, his nervousness faded. He was then filled with awe with you. 

You looked so beautiful, and he was so damn glad he was marrying you. 

You were like a dark sky adorned with shining little stars, you glowed even more when you saw your man looking so dapper and sexy in his white suit. You approached him, tethering in your heels. Hands sought out to touch him and he instantly offered his hands to you, You held on to his arms, then looked up at him. 

“Wow,” he said, barely a whisper. His voice might’ve caught in his throat, so he cleared it and smoothed his hands on yours, just to make sure he’s still alive and you were still real. 

“What do you think?” you asked before starting to tie his bowtie. 

“I think we should stay in tonight.” he said, drawing you closer to him. 

“Hmm, tempting. But no can do, mister. Car is already waiting downstairs.” 

“I really don’t care if I win it or not, I want to stay here,” he pouted. 

“Me too, my love. But sadly, we need to. Plus we can’t disappoint Wanda and Tim now, can’t we?” you heard him sigh. He ducked his head and leant his head on your shoulder. Despite you wearing four inch heels, he still needs to bow down a bit so that your heights could meet. 

“What if I don’t win?” he asked, the words trailing down your bare skin. 

“It’s okay. It’s all fine. What matters most is that you gave your best and you’re my winner.” 

“Would you still marry me even if I don’t take the little guy home?” 

“Of course I would. Besides, you’ve got a little guy in me, that’s enough for now, is it?” you smiled and rubbed his back in an effort to comfort him and yourself. 

Benedict stood up straighter and beamed at your wording. Just the slightest implication, the littlest whisper of the word that you’re finally expecting makes him smile like a loon. Instinctively, he touched the teeny tiny bump that was starting to rise on your skin, that was temporarily hidden by your black dress. 

“My god, I really want to kiss you right now,” he sighed defeatedly, yet he still moved closer to you. 

“Nope. Not allowed, it’s matte.” you chuckled. 

Instead, he sought out the pulse point on your neck, and there he planted a kiss. Then, he brought up your intertwined hands and kissed the finger where your engagement ring is nestled. 

“I love you, win or lose, I’m all for you.” you said in all earnest. 

“I love you too.” 

“Now let’s get this done so we can go home early.” he smiled then led you out of the hotel suite. 

Hand in hand, you walked through the carpeted corridor with his assistant and his stylist in tow. His security called for an elevator and you all followed suit. His assistant, Emily buzzed through the usual red carpet routine and the procedures and program of the awards ceremony. You intently listened while remaining silent, you nodded and hummed when she needed affirmation. 

Ben, however, was jittery. His hands moved too much and you could just feel the tension he’s feeling. You rubbed his back affectionately, trying to help him calm down. 

“Love, what if you take a drink? Water? Whiskey perhaps?” you suggested. 

“I really want some more whiskey right now,” he chuckled and took your hand. 

“Okay, we’ll have Dominic get you a flask, does that sound good?”  

“Yeah.” he exhaled. 

You tapped Dominic and asked him to get your love a flask of whiskey in the hotel bar once the elevator lands on the ground floor. He nodded and he did so once the elevator stopped. As you all waited for Dominic by the lobby, Benedict couldn’t help but feel a little bit calm. You always stood close to him, almost never leaving his space. He figured it might be because his nerves needed calming down, but then he realized, maybe you were nervous too. It’s for him, as much as it is for you. 

Benedict was all aware that you aren’t used to this. This isn't your line of work and it's completely normal to be nervous. You were more used to the bright lights of hospital rooms, rather than the bright and flashing lights of media attention. He looked at you, and caught you in a moment of anxiety. He knows you as much as you know him. And right now, you need him as much as he needs you. 

"You okay?" he whispered in your ear. 

"I am, though I think I need a quick trip to the bathroom before we go," you sighed. Pregnancy was all to blame. 

"I'll come with you." he flashed you a smile and excused you two. 

"Do you have your lipstick with you?" he asked as you two neared the ladies' room. 

"Ben… " you warned him. 

"Just asking. Besides, isn't that what your pocket is for?" he chuckled. You playfully swatted his arm then left him for the stalls. 

You quickly did your business and left the restroom. You found him leaning against the marble wall, looking so casual. You grabbed your phone from your pocket and snapped a quick picture of him. He was looking away from the camera, and he looked so beautiful. 

"You look really handsome here." you gushed as you showed him the picture. 

"Damn right I do, I even look handsome while waiting for my pregnant fiance outside the ladies room." he laughed and held your hand. 

The two of you quickly made it back to his team and Emily confirmed that it was time to go. Ben helped you drape your shawl on your bare shoulders, making sure you weren't cold. He made you walk in front of him and behind Dominic so that you would be shielded away from grabby fans or paparazzis. 

Soon, you were all driving off to the venue. The traffic slowed and became congested, you figured you were already in the parade of cars by the carpet. 

The car ride wasn't so quiet. You started to crack a joke to ease off the tension. Benedict fought you for being the funniest. You just had to give it to him. He makes you so damn happy even in the most unusual of events. You had to make sure your mascara was waterproof as he had you in tears, laughing like a little kid at his latest joke. 

Emily, Don, and Dominic were also laughing, and by the time the car stopped by the carpet, you were all smiling. Dominic discreetly passed him his flask and he took a quick swig before stepping out of the car. 

As he closed the car door behind him, the screams started to get loud and pierce his ears. He made a quick move to open your door and he helped you out of the car. You thanked him and held onto his hand, while your other hand gathered your dress. 

Among the loud screaming of his name, was yours. Fans alternatively chanted your names as the two of you smiled and waved. The walk on the carpet was so slow, and Ben was worried you might get distressed or tired, given your condition. 

"You alright my love?" he asked you as photographers started to direct your focuses. 

"Yeah," you breathed, if a little shaky. He noticed this and excused you and himself from the press to meet with Emily. 

"Need to stay hydrated," you chuckled as Em gave you a drink. Ben rubbed your back soothingly and you instantly relaxed. 

He guided you back to the carpet and drew you close to his side as you two posed for photos. 

"Have I told you how beautiful you look?" he said under his breath, only you two could hear. 

"Not in so many words, if I recall correctly, you only said 'wow'," you joked. 

"Shame on me, not properly complimenting my beautiful fiance," he chuckled and you laughed. 

"Yeah, shame on you, Mr. C." you giggled as the two of you walked away from the carpet. It was now time for interviews. 

He was beckoned over by E!'s host and he stepped on the platform. Briefly answering their questions. 

"Now we see you've got a beautiful lady beside you," the host said and you heard it. 

"That's my fiance, Y/N." he proudly smiled and gestured at you. You gave the camera a wave and a smile. 

"Rumors are going around that you two are expecting, any comments on that?" 

"It's against my will to share anything private but I'm really happy and proud to say that yes we are," he laughed. They offered their congratulations to him and to you. 

"That must be a dream come true for you!" they said. 

"It is, but it is infinitely better with the fact that I'm doing this with her, that I'm with her," he said. You heard him pour his heart out in a public interview. Knowing him, he wouldn't want to give up any private information about you as a couple, as an impending family, but his words made you blossom. Your cheeks burned red as he gave you a quick glance. 

"Will wedding bells soon be ringing?" 

"Hopefully yes. But I don't know, you guys will just have to find out how soon." he said with a smile. With that, the interview concluded. He marched down and met with you. He planted a kiss on your temple, then linked your hands together. 

"I didn't spill too many beans, didn't I?" he asked. 

"It was great, Ben. You're allowed to say something about me, or something about us. Just watch it though, or you might share something to them that they're not supposed to know," 

"Like what?" he smirked. 

"I don't know, maybe you'll say that I'm actually a great cook that's why you're marrying me,"

"Is that a bad thing?" he chuckled. 

"Could be, especially if MasterChef decides to hire me as a judge," you said. A laugh vibrated through him and you couldn't help but join along. 

Wanda and Tim came into your view, and you rushed to give them each a hug. 

"My darling girl, look at you!" Wanda grinned at you and you blushed. 

Benedict moved in to give them a hug and they gave him their warmest congratulations on the awards nomination and the news of pregnancy. 

"How far?" Tim asked you. 

"Two months." 

"Why didn't you call me?" Wanda glared at Ben. 

"We just found out the other day mum, I'm sorry," 

"You should be!" she huffed and you stifled a grin. 

Emily then turned up from the side and ushered you inside the slowly growing crowded auditorium. Sadly, you had to part with Wanda and Tim as you two were seated upfront. You and Ben promised to catch them at the end of the show. 

The auditorium was starting to become full of celebrities, all looking glam and dashing. The man beside you however, was the only one you had eyes for. You mingled with others but the two of you always, always gravitated to each other. A distance would be kept but only for a moment. 

Then Keira arrived. She was glowing, her baby bump looking glorious. 

"Congratulations!" she gasped. 

"Thank you so much. And wow, you look really amazing!" you said. The stream of pleasantries never seems to end with Keira. She's such an amazing friend. Fortunately, you two are seated next to each other. 

The ceremony finally started and the pomp and pageantry commenced. You had to take a deep breath in and exhale through your nose just to convince yourself that you could go through 3+ hours of sitting and clapping. 

"Can I get you a drink?" your fiance asked you. You laughed with your pursed lips. He looked at you with brows furrowed. 

"What's so funny?"

"Don't go around asking people that question, they might think you're a waiter," you pointed at his white suit and black bowtie. 

"Shut up you, now come on, iced tea?" he offered. Your laughs didn't stop until he gave you a glass. 

"Just wait till we get home, I don't think you'll be making jokes about my suit then," 

"Lucky me, I guess." you winked at him and he kissed your cheeks as the lights dimmed. 

Thank god for commercials. Almost every time there's a commercial, you excuse yourself for a trip to the bathroom. Benedict was all too happy to go with you, til you finally figured out why. 

"I saw that," you smirked at him as he sneakily put out his half cigarette. 

"I know I promised there would be no more—"

"But I know you're nervous and anxious to get home. So it's all fine," you reassured him.

"Now come on, rockstar. You're about to present a category." this time you were the one to give him a kiss. 

"Wait, hold on," he slipped his fingers in his breast pocket and retrieved his flask. He took a swift swig then patted it back to his suit pocket. 

He helped you to your seat just in time for another category announcement. After that, he left and the next you saw him, he was onstage, presenting an award. 

Ben had hidden the nerves well in his smooth velvet voice. His eyes scanned the whole room, but he only found yours. He only had his eyes for you. He winked at you before announcing the winner. 

"How'd I do?" he asked as he sat down next to you. You enveloped his hand in yours and beamed at him. 

"Amazing."

Few more minutes passed, and the best actor nominations were about to be announced. You could feel him tense up and you felt it too. 

"I don't think I can do this," he sighed heavily. 

"Yes you can, love. I'm right here." you reassuringly said. His right hand took your left, where your engagement ring shines. You squeezed his hand and smiled. 

"I love you. And I'm so proud of you," you said. You watched his eyes become teary and it was enough for you at that moment. 

Benedict Cumberbatch. The Imitation Game. The presenter said. 

His name spoken so loud, so clear, in such a large place made him shyly smile. And the people were cheering, clapping. But his focus shifted to you; you were clapping and your smile was genuine. He now knows that he is the luckiest man in the world. He felt so big, so elated. Because you, just you, being proud and happy for him and with him at that certain moment, was special enough. 

He silently wished he could bottle the moment up. Especially the look on you: eyes wide in pride, smile so warm, and your hand that nestles your promise to him, was applauding him. 

You took his hand in anticipation and ran your thumb in circles. The winner was announced and you politely clapped. Though a smile was painted on his pretty face, you could feel his disappointment. 

"No matter, you're still my winner. We could have a drink or two or more later, then have drunken sex, how does that sound?" you offered. He gave you a tight-lipped smile and rubbed your back affectionately. 

"Darling we can't have drunken sex, you're not allowed to drink," 

"But—"

"Actually I think I need to sober up. We're going to make love all night long and I'm going to put another baby in you, how does that sound?" he whispered in your ear and the fine hairs on your back stood up. 

"Win-win situation. I like how you think, Cumberbatch." you said, your voice low. 

Soon enough, you found yourselves clapping along the crowd, cheering and congratulating the night’s winners. A new tension has fallen over the two of you, it was like a veil, a bubble that separated you from the rest of the majority. You could feel his hands all over you, ghosting on your skin, and you seem to do the very same. You want him so close to you, with nothing in between and around. 

He felt like dancing. He felt his body was alight with new energy. One that doesn’t equate to having an award, or any kind of a bloody award. He was going home with you, and that’s all he could ever want and ever need. 

“I know you’re tired but would you like to attend the afterparty?” he asked as you stood amongst the crowd that was heading to Vanity Fair’s afterparty. 

“Would love to,” you happily sighed. 

“You sure? I know those heels are killing you,”

“Come on Cumberbatch, before I change my mind.” you giggled and led him through the throng of people. 

Flashing colored lights welcomed you as you stepped into the room. People were piled by the bar, ordering drinks and chatting. The DJ had cranked up some fine tunes and there were also people on the dancefloor. Not giving a damn if their designer dresses are stepped on. 

He did what he had promised to you, avoiding alcohol and only drank water to recover himself from the amount of whiskey he had drunk throughout the ceremony. Hand in hand, he waltzed through the dancefloor, and a giggle escaped your lips when he had dipped you. After a few moves, you sat down and he lifted your heeled feet to his lap, trying to ease the pain. 

But then a beat started to thump through the room. A beat you know so well. Quickly, onto your feet, you pulled your bewildered fiance and let him back to the dance floor. You pulled him close and started to lip sync the lyrics. As soon as he recognized the melody, he smiled and held your waist close to him. 

“I want your hot loving emotion, endlessly.” you whispered so close to his lips. 

“‘Cause you’re a good girl, and you know it.” his voice rumbled and you could feel it. The vibration of the bass, and his dark smooth voice. 

Drake has nothing on him. You smirked to yourself. 

“Just hold on, we’re going home,” you sang. 

“Just hold on, we’re going home.” he sang the last lyric and you finally pulled him down, meeting his lips for a kiss. 

“Take me home.” you whispered and held on to him.

Ben watched the building fly past his window. The car was moving at a speed, the driver was all too happy to step on the pedal. Ben leant back on the leather seat and exhaled, he closed his eyes and your perfume filled his nose. You were wearing his suit jacket and nestled into him. You cuddled up to him immediately the second the car door locked shut. The drive would’ve been short if Ben directed the driver to drop you off at the hotel, but no, he chose to head home. 

Win or lose, I’m all for you. I’m so proud of you. 

Your voice in his head replayed the words over and over. A smile crept on his lips. He really is the luckiest man. He couldn’t imagine himself going through it all with another woman, or worse, alone. He would’ve been a mess. He would’ve gone home drunk, woken up sick of alcohol poisoning and self-pity. But now, he has you, and he’d rather have you forever than anything. You were worth more than any silver or gold, nor any long standing ovation or recognition. 

“I love you.” he whispered into your hair, you heard it and snuggled closer to him. 

The drive didn’t take much longer. The car soon pulled up in the driveway of his property. He almost carried you into the house, as you leant heavily into him. 

“Come on, let’s go upstairs,” he exhaled, then gave into carrying you upstairs. Once he crossed your shared room, he gently laid you down on the bed. He moved down and peeled down the straps of your Blahniks, you hummed in relief and closed your eyes. You felt him leave the bed and move around the room. You blinked them open only to find him on the other side of the room unbuttoning his shirt. 

“What are you doing?” you gasped and sat up. 

“Getting ready for bed?” 

“What? Didn’t you say we’re going to make love all night?” 

“But love, you’re tired,” he sighed and scooted to the edge of the bed, his shirt hanging open. 

“I’m not!”

“But you were already asleep, I had to carry you upstairs,” 

“I was just faking it, so you would carry me,” you said with a wicked smile on your lips. 

“Why you—” you squealed as he pulled you down to the edge of the by your legs. He wrapped your legs around his waist and that made you gasp. You felt him getting hard against the fabric of his trousers. He leaned down and captured your lips into a kiss. 

Hands started to roam and touch, igniting sparks of arousal and need. His hands, his skillful touch started its path downwards. He cupped your core through the fabric of your dress, and you hissed in sudden contact.

“As much as I love this dress on you, I want it off of you.” he grumbled. You directed him where the zipper was and his fingers started to fumble.

“What the—” he groaned in frustration. You giggled and he looked at you with danger in his eyes.

“You know what, I’ll just buy you a new one,” he said and you heard the fabric tear open. Your gasp in surprise was soon wiped away by his fierce kiss. You rid yourself of the remaining fabric, then laid back down just wearing your lace thong.

He was starting to remove his suit but you stopped him. “It’s going to stay on,” you said and dipped your hand into his trousers. His pretty lips curved into a beautiful ‘o’ and he leaned back his head slightly.

What a sight to behold.

His lips came down on you again, this time with the intention of tasting your skin. He left wet open kisses all over your neck and your chest, paying special attention to the spot where he felt your racing heartbeat. You moaned and writhed underneath him, your nails lightly scratching his back.

His fingers followed his lips. Your hips bucked as he swiftly pulled down your thong, dipped down his head and gave your core a long lick. Looking into your eyes, he tasted and lavished on the taste of your wetness. He then slipped a finger, then started to massage that spot that made you wild. You tangled your fingers into his hair, pulling him to where you wanted him to be. He groaned and closed his eyes.

“Ben, fuck,” you moaned as he hit that spot over and over.

“Come on baby. I want you to cum on my tongue.”

So close. So deliciously close. One last flick of masterful tongue, he had you coming. A gush of wetness flooded through you, he made you squirt.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled.

He backed away and slipped out his finger in fear of making you oversensitive. When you’ve calmed down a bit, he lightly kissed your wet pussy, and tapped it with his hand. You drew in a sharp breath as you felt your legs shake.

Ben saw this and chuckled darkly, he gathered your legs and ran his hands on your bare, smooth skin. Soothing you, helping you come down. He wrapped your legs around his waist once more, and this time you freed him from the confines of tight trousers. You circled his shaft and he involuntarily bucked into your warm hand.

“I know I promised you that we’d be making love but I want you right now, hard and fast,” he panted against your lips.

“Yes, please,” you begged.

With eyes full of love, he gazed into you as he carefully entered you. You sighed and sought out his arm, holding on tightly. As you began to get used to his size, he started to move in you, deeply. He pulled out, only his head staying in you, then slammed back in, your hips flushed. You screamed in surprise and he had mistaken it for pain.

"You okay?" he asked, his breath shallow.

"Again, please," you pleaded. He smirked and did it again. Once buried deep inside you, he moved his head down to kiss you.

"You're so deep inside me," you sighed into his lips.

"Am I?" while still inside you, he rolled his hips into a circle and you arched your back in pleasure.

"Do you like that, darling? Me buried so deep inside you,"

"Yeah, ah—" you cried out when he did it again.

Ben started to move, he thrusted in and out of you, making sure his cock kisses that spot inside you. He loved to see you writhing and squirming under his pace, eyes rolling back and lips agape in pleasure.

"Fuck, you feel so good." he exhaled as he felt you tighten around him, signalling another orgasm from you.

"Ben, I'm gonna cum," you screamed, digging your nails into his arm.

"That's it baby, let me hear you scream as you cum on my cock," he whispered into your ear, his voice harsh.

A cry broke out from your lungs as the violent waves of pleasure rushed throughout your body. He soon followed, your orgasm causing his orgasm to rip through him. You pulled him down to you, wanting to feel him and his weight above you.

He began to move away but you protested. "Love, I just need to get rid of these clothes." he kissed you.

Ben made quick work of getting rid of his clothes and preparing a wet towel for you. You were on the edge of falling asleep when he joined you in bed. He wiped your skin with the towel, taking extra care on your sensitive spot between your legs.

"I think you made me pregnant again," you hummed.

"I should hope so," he chuckled and settled beside you after turning off the lights.

"Be careful what you wish for. I think we can only handle one right now."

"Thank you," he said after a beat of silence.

"For what?"

"For being here. With me. Beside me."

"It's hard to do these things alone," you quoted the lyric from the song you two were dancing to earlier.

"If it's your duty to love me and protect me, then my duty to you is just the same. I love you and I promise to always be here for you. We'll always go through it together." you said and planted a kiss on his chest, at the very top of his heartbeat.

He leaned down and gave you one last kiss for the night, he whispered "I love you." into your lips before finally letting himself fall into sleep.

Benedict slept easily that night as he was well aware of the fact that he was lucky to find his match (you), and did his greatest achievement (get down on one knee and promise to marry you, and start a family with you). He had all his heart's desires and it couldn't have any more worth than a little golden statue.

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#benedict cumberbatch fanfiction #benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch fics #benedict cumberbatch imagines #benedict cumberbatch x you #benedict cumberbatch x reader #real person fiction #benedict cumberbatch gifs #benedict cumberbatch smut #benedict cumberbatch angst #benedict cumberbatch fluff #benedict #cumberbatch #dr strange x reader #dr strange x you #dr strange fanfiction #doctor strange fanfiction #dr stephen strange fanfic #dr strange fanfic #sherlock x reader #sherlock x you #sherlock fanfiction #sherlock holmes fanfiction #Spotify

[aephereal]

Needy // Benedict Cumberbatch x OC (Teaser) 18+

Concept from my bestie @marvel-writing 🤍

“Ben, don’t tease me, please. I just-” He pushed her into the counter, slipping his hands under her bum to pull her up onto the surface.  

“I just want to taste you, baby, just for a minute.” After breaking away to speak, he was eager to reattach their mouths, cradling her jaw in his hand as he tipped her head back to reach further into her mouth. 

A moan forced its way out of Jenna as she bucked her hips up to meet Ben’s, feeling now that he was fully hard underneath the constricting material of his jeans.  

“Can we go upstairs? Please? I want you to have me properly.” Benedict nodded. 

“Yeah? Want me to properly fuck you into the mattress, pretty girl?” Jenna nodded, resting her forehead against his as their breathing got deeper. “Have you thought about me while I’ve been away? Touched yourself pretending it’s me?” 

She nodded, remembering all the times she had slipped her hand beneath her underwear while wondering if her boyfriend had been doing the same.  

“Of course, but I never came as good as if you’d actually been there. Did you touch yourself too? While you were gone?” Ben breathed out shakily.  

“Nearly every day, sweetheart. Thinking about your mouth wrapped around my cock, fucking your throat. You want me to do that now?” Jenna nodded, honestly just ready to give whatever she was being offered at this point. “You’ll have to be patient, then, because as much as I’d like to come down your throat, I need to fuck you, right now.” 

She kissed him briefly before pulling away again. 

“Then I suggest you take me upstairs, strip me, lay me out on the bed and fuck me until one of us passes out.” Ben’s deep groan resonated through Jenna’s body and straight to her core. 

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me, you know that?”

#benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch smut #benedict cumberbatch x oc #writing #smut

[geeky-politics-46]

Am I getting the urge to write a last-minute Valentine's story for our OG Stephen? Yes. Yes I am.

Or should i do it for Sinister Strange?

#doctor strange #stephen strange #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange smut #stephen strange smut #doctor strange x you #stephen strange x you #dr. stephen strange #doctor strange fanfiction #valentines day #doctor stephen strange #doctor strange x y/n #doctor strange x female reader #stephen strange fanfiction #stephen strange x fem!reader #stephen strange x y/n #benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch smut #sinister strange #sinister strange x reader #sinister strange x y/n #sinister strange x you #sinister strange smut #sinister strange fanfic

[wint3r-h3art]

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

[daydreamtofiction]

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. 

*Tags: @evelynrosestuff @thealleydog @lexlexigogh @allie131313 @simpingbestie @ironstrange1991 @witchoftheages @hiddendiary @swds @jyessaminereads @withalittlehoney @hunterofshadows04 @slytherindoctorsat221b @diabaroxa @phoebe221 @hai-kbai @downtownshabby @dara-of-qui-zi @unfilteredmoonchild @classicrebound @bigratbitchsworld @aphroditesdilemma @bloodyxsaint @ployavengersog1 @spectaclebitch @paola-carter @veryladyqueen @gordorio @shjl15 @thedaredevilsgirl @howardtonypotts @ceccille @wllsfer @thelostsmiles

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#benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch imagine #benedict cumberbatch smut #benedict cumberbatch fanfic #benedict cumberbatch fanfiction #priest!benedict #priest kink #hot priest #fanfic smut #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic writing #smut writing #smut fanfiction #smut #eventual smut #lemon #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch x you #benedict x reader #benedict x you #fanfic series #sherlock smut

[little-diable]

The secrets our notes tell - Professor!Benedict Cumberbatch (smut)

I ran into the hot awful professor a few days ago, so I had to take this idea and turn it into a small fic. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader had always crushed on professor Cumberbatch, the man that treated her without any kindness dripping from his words, clearly signalling 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.

Warnings: 18+, smut, semi public, age gap, professor x student, kind of enemies to lovers

Pairing: Professor!Benedict Cumberbatch x fem!student(professor to be) (about 5k words)

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Her tired eyes took in her surroundings of the old building, feet carrying her closer to the library. Music rang in her ears, drowning out the sounds of the passing by students. Rain was pouring from the sky, drops running down the windows like children returning home from a long school day.

(Y/n) was exhausted, mind still hooked up on the lesson that had ended a few minutes ago, praying that the day would come to an end soon. Her thoughts circled around her plans for the evening, hoping that she’d be able to take her mind off her University tasks.

The smell of the library engulfed her, reminding (y/n) of a museum where secrets were stored away, hidden for curious minds only. She tightened her grasp on her bag as she let her eyes wander, freezing as her gaze fell upon his frame. There he stood, waiting for his call to pick up his books.

Fuck, (y/n) had always known that Professor Cumberbatch would never leave her thoughts, at least not for a while. He still managed to make her heart race, skipping a few beats as if she was about to win the game of her life. The past semesters, as she had visited his courses, urged on by the growing tension between them, the annoyance of his kept growing whenever she was around. Deep down she had never truly understood his vendetta, unsure why he hated her with such a burning passion. And yet she hadn’t been able to stay away from him, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Before (y/n) could snap out of her thoughts to speak to him, he stepped forward to the now free counter. She didn’t hear the words he spoke, still focused on his appearance, the black suit he wore and the slight curls forming on his head. Slowly she walked past him to another now free counter, not able to tear her eyes away from the professor’s frame, only as the woman started speaking to her was (y/n) forced to snap into motion.

“I’ll be right back.” She watched the woman leave to fetch her books, gaze almost automatically wandering back to where the professor had been standing, only to find an empty spot. He must have left a few moments ago when her focus had been slipping. A sombre feeling stretched itself through her body, almost deflated about missing out on her chance to speak on him. And yet her gaze found the black notebook he always carried around with him placed on the counter. He must have forgotten it, distracted by the task at hand.

Before (y/n) could stop herself she had reached for the notebook, slipping it into her bag as she murmured a soft “Thank you” to the woman that had collected her books. Her feet carried her almost automatically down the hallway towards his office, taking turns with her heart accelerating its beat, silently hoping that he was still around, that she still got the chance to speak to him.

Softly she knocked on his door with blood rushing through her veins like riders chasing enemies, accelerating their speed with every passing second. The door was ripped open, exposing his tall frame to her wide eyes, towering over her with his grim expression tugging on his features.

“(Y/n)? What can I do for you?” His voice dripped with surprise, he certainly hadn’t expected her to turn up without emailing him beforehand. For a second she struggled to find her voice, body guided by her nervousness, the never ending crush she had struggled with for the past month.

“Sorry for the disturbance, but you must have forgotten this in the library.” (Y/n) pulled the notebook out of her bag, not expecting him to rip it out of her hands without thanking her. His cold eyes stared down on her, lips pulled into a thin line as if he had to stop himself from confessing his darkest secrets in the depth of the night.

“Did you open it?” Professor Cumberbatch’s voice grew rougher, lower, not daring to add enough strength to the words he was about to speak. She could only shake her head, unsure why he was acting this angry, not used to seeing him like this. “Next time you should stay out of my business, this is of no concern to you.”

And with one last glance thrown her way, the professor shut the door in her face. It took (y/n) a few seconds to start moving away from his office, heart in her throat, unsure if the past moments have really just happened. Her insides churned at the mere thought of pissing him off, she had always tried to please the handsome man, hooked onto his every word like a drunkard fostering a bottle of alcohol.

“Hey, look at me, it will be alright.” (Y/n) looked at her friend, forcing a smile onto her lips. Today was the day, the day she had been dreading ever since last semester. She’d meet her supervisor today, not knowing who’d be the one to guide her through her first teaching experiences, who’d look over her every task for the upcoming year.

For the past weeks (y/n) had found herself silently praying to whoever was listening, hoping that she’d be paired up with somebody she knew, somebody who knew that she was determined to give her all. Just the mere thought of being paired with somebody that didn’t appreciate her work left her insides churning.

“I’ll text you later, wish me luck, please.” With one last glance thrown her friend’s way, (y/n) made her way towards the stairs, leading up to the building of her faculty. Her limbs were trembling, palms growing sweaty, it felt as if this was her only chance of getting her hands onto that position, unsure if they could still fire her - thoughts running wild, heart skipping beats, eyes no longer able to focus. A nightmare she couldn’t wake from.

Lost like Euridice in the underworld, (y/n) was frozen on her spot, eyes hooked onto the person that was holding the door open for her. A silent whimper threatened to claw through her, hoping that Professor Cumberbatch would leave her be. The man’s piercing eyes bore through her skin, able to uncover her every thought as if he was Hades himself.

“Good morning, (y/n).” Monotone like his expression, he spoke the words, eyes flickering from her eyes to his phone, typing whatever he was trying to communicate. She replied with the same greeting, just above a whisper, not daring to speak louder. Careful steps guided her through the hallway, with the professor hot on her heels, and slowly but surely the daunting realisation clashed upon her like the waves that had drowned Leander at Hellespont.

Both of them came to a halt in front of the office of the head of the faculty, and without any words rumbling through them, the professor once again reached for the door, allowing (y/n) to step inside first. She was greeted with a warm “Hello”, and yet she felt her heart racing, very well aware that her upcoming months would be hell, perhaps even worse than that.

“It’s good to see you both, please, sit.” (Y/n) couldn’t speak, no air was bursting through her lungs, no strength was resting on her vocal chords. “Since you are familiar with one another, we can skip the formalities. (Y/n), Benedict has put together a structure for you, he’ll go through that one with you later, we’ll check in every now and then with the two of you to see how things are going. If anything goes to plan, you should be able to teach on your own from May on.”

Her eyes flickered to the calendar placed on the woman’s desk, reading the 21st of November. One could only pray that the months would pass by quickly, that she’d survive whatever was coming her way. For years she had dreamt of this very moment, and yet it had turned out rather sour, nothing like she had imagined it to be.

“We are happy to have you around, and very grateful that Benedict has recommended you to us.” And for a second, just a fraction of a second, her world stopped spinning. He had been the one to recommend her? The professor that treated her like a bitter man would treat his sworn enemy?

She couldn’t stop her eyes from meeting his, hoping to read the man that stared at her without any reaction. And yet she was met with an uneasy nothingness, as if she was staring at a blank canvas.

“Thank you, I’m very excited about this position.” A small smile formed on her lips, trying to put on an act that left the woman satisfied. She could only hope that she’d make it through this somehow, without any nights filled with tears running down her cheeks, without any nights where she cursed his name.

The three of them rose from their chairs, allowing (y/n) to shake the woman’s hand before she followed the professor outside. He didn’t speak up once as he started walking, assuming that (y/n) would follow him towards his office. It felt like a déjà-vu, reminding her of the last time she had stood outside his office, days ago she had been filled with excitement, mind hooked on her crush and the way he had made her feel, but now she felt nothing but dread.

“Tea? Coffee?” It was the first time he spoke since that moment at the door, forcing her heart to skip yet another beat as she murmured her reply. (Y/n) watched his every step, trying to read his posture, wondering if she could decipher the signals his body kept sending out, though without any luck. He was a statue, chiselled from a substance only found in the depth of no man’s land.

“I,” the vowel left her before she could overthink her words. “Why me? You don’t like me.”

For the first time since they had first crossed paths years ago, (y/n) could feel some kind of uncertainty radiating off the man. His teeth ran along his lower lip, eyes focused on his tea, on the steam that rose from the cup like the shade of Euridice that had lured the woman into her eternal end.

“You are excellent in the field, there’s no other student that knows it like you do. It would be a waste of talent. This isn’t about sympathy or any emotions, and neither do I dislike you.” Piercing eyes found hers like magnets pulled together, uncovering every secret resting in their minds. There was no way out, no way to hide from the upcoming months, forced to work together, to operate as a team.

“You don’t need to lie to me, professor.” A soft chuckle rumbled through (y/n), a sound caught in her throat as he tensed in his chair. Once again he made her feel as if she had overstepped, as if she was testing the man.

“I have no reason to lie to you, (y/n). You were the one desperate to prove your talent to me, from the start. A pathetic move if you ask me, and yet you couldn’t stop.” The fire inside her veins was tamed by the icy words rumbling through the man, forcing her lips into a thin line that kept her from speaking up. “We are here to work, to teach and to research, not to make any friends. Here, this is your structure, you’ll stick to it.”

The warning spoken from his thin lips hung in the air, weighing her down. All (y/n) could do was nod her head, hoping that she’d be able to leave any moment now.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at ten back here, we’ll walk to your first class together.” Without speaking another word, (y/n) rose from the chair, she grasped her bag and murmured a small though sharp “Goodbye, professor.”

To say that (y/n) was nervous was a grand understatement. With barely any sleep clinging to her trembling frame, she kept pacing the hallway, waiting for the professor to turn up. Every now and then her gaze flickered to her phone, watching the seconds tick by as time was moving closer and closer to 10 am.

And yet she could feel him before she saw him, body reacting to his closeness with goosebumps rising on her skin and with her heart skipping beats. A soft “Morning” left her lips as professor Cumberbatch nodded his head at her, walking past (y/n) to guide her to the first class of the day.

By now she knew his structure by heart, wouldn’t even be surprised if he quizzed her on it, expecting her to know his every command - which she did. The whole day would be spent with him close, even though she’ll only teach one class, forced to sit through endless hours of his teaching. A small part of her mind couldn’t help but be excited about being close to him, allowed to admire the handsome man.

“Try to work through this hour on your own, remember to ask questions and to allow your students to ask whatever they need to ask. I’ll be close, if you need my help.” The professor’s voice sounded unfamiliar, too soft, too calm, something she wasn’t able to focus on for long as the first students found their way into the class. No reply was formed on her tongue, no words to thank him, only able to watch him sit down in the first row.

For the upcoming sixty minutes, (y/n) somehow managed to keep him out of her thoughts, eyes not meeting his once, and yet she felt somewhat grateful that he was close. Every now and then she found herself stumbling over her words, hoping that the students could follow her explanations, and whenever she got lost for a moment or two, she felt professor Cumberbatch straighten his posture, ready to step in.

“Thank you all for today, remember to go through next week's reading. Don’t hesitate to reach out, should you have any questions.” Heat swapped through her as the students knocked on the tables, signalling their appreciation. Only as the first started to rise from their seats did (y/n) allow herself to look at the professor. The man had his eyes already fixed on her, lips pulled into the all too familiar thin line.

“That was good, enough we have to work on, but better than expected.” She took it as a compliment, tried to focus on the hidden appreciation, and with a smile shot his way, (y/n) found herself determined to prove to him that she was as worthy of this job as he was.

“How many meetings will you have with him?” Her friend’s voice rumbled from (y/n)’s speaker, eyes focused on the road ahead. Both had been working on their tasks for the past hour, allowing (y/n) to phone her friend to tell her more about the past weeks. It felt almost strange to speak of the professor without cursing him, not yet used to him being somewhat kind to her.

By now she was used to being around the professor, and yet the way he’d compliment her was still new to her. There was nothing sweet about the words he’d speak, nothing she could cling to like a drowning woman in need of a life vest. Nevertheless, deep down she knew that professor Cumberbatch was proud of her, even if he didn't speak of that.

“I don’t really know, I have to see him in a few.” In the past weeks she had met up with him every Thursday afternoon, talking about her teaching, what she should change and the questions keeping her awake. Sometimes they met up at his office, sometimes at his house, depending on his timetable.

(Y/n) could still remember the first time she had stepped into his home, the warm atmosphere that had engulfed her, the scent of tea that had hung in the air, making her feel as if she was coming home after years away. She hadn’t dared to roam around, had barely gotten the time to study the endless seeming amount of books keeping his shelves filled, and yet (y/n) had felt awfully comfortable in his house, silently praying that she’ll be able to return.

“I’ll call you back alright?” By now she could see his house from afar, one of many in the neighbourhood not many could afford to live in. No longer was she nervous about entering his personal space, no longer was she worried about being met with his cold demeanour, slowly but surely able to read between the lines. With a smile tugging on her lips, (y/n) knocked on the door, counting down the seconds it took him to invite her in - always exactly 20 seconds, not one second longer.

“Here, I brought you some brownies.” A soft “Thank you” left the professor as he took in her frame, taking the box from her outstretched hand. Even though his demeanour and his cold words were nothing new to her, she still wasn’t used to the way he studied her, eyes growing a few shades darker - as if they were stuck in the dark and she was the only light to guide him back into safety.

“Tea?” Both had adjusted to some kind of routine, exchanging only a few words as she got comfortable, finding her spot near the big window of his office, allowing her to take in the view of his garden. She watched him pour her a cup, trying to contain her smile, he seemed unusually calm, slowly adjusting to having her near for most parts of his week.

„Do you have any questions?” It was the same routine, he’d give her time to ask her questions, while taking his notes and then he’d lay his critique upon her. Though whenever he got to the critical part (y/n) found herself growing tense, not wanting to hear anything negative from the man she desperately wanted to impress like the goddesses standing upon Paris, waiting for his judgement.

The minutes kept fading by, where he listened to her rambling, attention fully focused on (y/n). Though as he started talking, telling her what she could improve, (y/n)‘s gaze started to wander, fixated on the window and the darky sky that was shaken apart by thunder. Rain poured from the sky, forming puddles on the once so green grass.

“(Y/n),” he called her name with a smile forming on his lips, clearly aware of the distraction. She didn’t reply, kept staring at the drops that fell like tears, wondering what the sky was crying about. “Love, look at me.”

Both froze at the use of the nickname. Heat rushed through both their systems, though as Benedict wondered if he should take it back, (y/n) couldn’t help but smile, hoping that she’d get to hear him calling her that again. Their eyes met, and for a moment they were surrounded by nothing but silence, a silence torn like a piece of paper by the roaring thunder.

“Sorry, please repeat that.” She didn’t dare to give her words enough strength, relishing in the comforting atmosphere. With his eyes wandering over her features, he shook his head, closing his notebook to end their session. He allowed his gaze to follow hers, taking in nature’s spectacle.

“It may take a while till the storm passes, you are welcomed to stay here.” He rose from his seat, waiting for her reaction before he guided her back downstairs. Barely any lights were illuminating his house, kept in the dark like the pull they felt inside their chests. Without any words spoken the two of them found themselves placed on his sofa, not wanting to tear their eyes from the windows.

“Can I ask you something?” Her whispers filled the room, drawing his attention towards her. “What do you write down in that notebook of yours? Why were you so angry at me for picking it up?”

“I take notes of my classes, of students that pay attention and the ones that don’t,” Benedict couldn’t look at her, cheeks growing a rather pinkish shade. “Most of my notes focus on you. How you distract me. How you make me doubt my lessons.”

“Of me? I didn’t think I’d ever experience something like this.” Her words were followed by a chuckle tearing through her. A sound so soft and raw, Benedict felt his heart skipping beats like stones tossed over the ocean’s surface. “God, I was so scared of you when we first met.”

“Scared?” Benedict spoke his words as soft as she did, like a whisper in the night, hoping not to wake the ones that could haunt them.

“Yes,” once again (y/n) found herself chuckling as she remembered those times, eyes now fully focused on his features. “We both know that you disliked me from the start and you were quite talented at making me feel your annoyance.”

“I never disliked you, (y/n).” Only now did the two of them seem to notice how close they were sitting, bodies touching with every exhale of air. And before Benedict could stop himself, he reached for her face, cupped her warm cheek and let his thumb linger on her lower lip. “I was annoyed at your urge to prove yourself to me, because I couldn’t understand how you were so unaware of my admiration. I’ve always known that you were brighter than the others in my class, god, they knew it too, but you kept on doubting yourself. And if I’m being honest, love, I don’t know why.”

She was at loss for words, perhaps because of the confession he had just spoken; perhaps because of the way his thumb kept tracing her lips; but perhaps because for the first time in months, she no longer felt as if he was treating her wrong. For the first time in months he had become aware of her, every part of (y/n).

“I,” (y/n) stumbled over her thoughts, not knowing how she could reply to this. Her thoughts were running wild, while one part was begging her to close the gap between them, hoping that he wouldn’t reject the unfamiliar touch, the other forced her to sit straight, to grasp her bag and to leave. The professor seemed to struggle with the same inner conflict, eyes flickering to the window, seemingly noticing how the rain had stopped falling.

Benedict cleared his throat as he chased the now growing distance between them, he rose from his spot, ran a hand through his hair and walked towards the window. (Y/n) used his moments of distraction to grasp her bag and with a soft “I’ll see you tomorrow” rolling off her tongue, (y/n) made her way out into the cold evening.

The following morning, as they crossed paths once again, she could feel the tension rising between them. No longer did he look at her with that gaze she couldn’t pinpoint. No longer did he speak soft words that made goosebumps appear on her skin. No, he looked at her with the all too familiar cold gaze that made her insides churn.

Barely any words were spoken as they walked to class, not even the “I’m here, if you need me” line came across Benedict’s thin lips. Nothing but an uneasy silence that made (y/n) lose her focus.

All throughout her lesson she tried to catch his gaze whenever her students were working on their task; whenever she got a moment to breathe her mind started taking her back to the day before and their calm moments together. By now they felt like mere dreams, nothing more than a reminder of older times one could barely talk about.

And yet her urge to speak to him grew stronger with every passing minute. The second she ended her class, (y/n) grasped her bag and walked towards him, hoping to catch him before he could run. An almost monotone expression tugged on her features, masking his, hoping that he couldn’t see right through the act she was putting on, “We need to talk.”

“I don’t think,” a sharp “Now” ripping through her interrupted him, pupils momentarily dilating from the unexpected tone of her voice. Benedict studied her for a second or two, pondering over his choices before he nodded his head, guiding her out into the hallway and towards his office. An uncomfortable silence hung between them, weighting her every step down as if she was carrying a weight so heavy she barely could breathe.

The door to his office fell shut with a heavy thud, and before (y/n) could overthink her next step, she grasped his hand and pulled him closer. Two breaths were sucked into her lungs as she shifted her weight into her toes, eyes flickering up to meet his wide ones before she pressed her lips against his. Benedict instantly replied to the touch, hands finding her waist, pulling her against his chest.

Both didn’t dare to let go of one another, lips chasing one another as if the passing seconds were falling through their hands like sand. Not wanting to miss the moment keeping them chained together, he guided her towards his desk, pushing her on top of it.

“I thought you wanted to talk.” He murmured his teasing words against her lips, chuckling as her hands found his hair, tugging on the roots to pull him in for another kiss. Their tongues met, exploring one another in the rawest form imaginable, urged on by their desire. Trembling hands worked on his trousers, wanting to feel every part of him, very well aware of the fleeting time.

“Are you sure about this?” Benedict caught her hand, forcing her to stop moving for a moment. Though the second she murmured her “Yes” he let go of her, hands working on her trousers, helping her out of them before he gave her another push back. “I’d love to take my time with you, but we can’t do that here.”

“Just fuck me, professor, please.” She felt him freeze, eyes hooked on hers as his lips broke out into a smirk. Soon enough he’d push her through endless hours of pleasure thumping through their veins, making her tremble and shudder, though for now they’d have to take the rushing by minutes they were offered.

He reached for his wallet, pulled the silvery foil packet free and ripped it open with his teeth. She could only watch him roll it down his hardening cock before he aligned himself with her heat. And with their eyes meeting once again, he pushed into her. Their lips searched one another to drown out the moans rumbling through them, hoping that nobody noticed what was going on behind closed doors.

With her legs slung around his waist and her upper body rising from the table top, she pressed herself against his chest, wanting to feel him as close as humanely imaginable. He fucked her fast, rough, urged on by the minutes they kept losing. Nothing would ever be able to describe the waves of emotions clashing through her, filling every part of her body like lava burning a town to the ground. Caught like the citizens of Pompeii, stuck in a trance she’d never wake from, she felt herself quivering for more.

“Wish I could take a picture of you, so ready for me, so beautiful.” (Y/n) had a hard time concentrating on his words, struggling to breathe as she lost herself in the moment. He filled her perfectly, every thrust pushed her further into the abyss no human could ever retreat from. She was falling, harder than the snowflakes on a cold December evening, faster than the rain pouring from the sky.

“Fuck, I knew you’d be the death of me. I’ll never be able to let you go.” God, how she hoped that he’d stick true to his words, not wanting to part from the man she had always admired. Her soft moans seemed to be enough to beg the man to add more pressure to his thrusts, fingers finding their way to her core, softly rubbing her bundle of nerves.

Her walls fluttered around him, signalling her arising high that was about to swap through her way too soon. Benedict stared down on her, hand tightening its grip on her waist, not daring to let go as she came around him with that choiceless devotion. Glistening eyes watched her fall apart, every ounce of strength bleeding from her veins like water drying out in the sun.

He followed her down the edge with a groan, forehead pressed against hers. Neither of them dared to move, neither of them wanted to break the bliss they were holding onto. Caught in a wave of unnamable emotions.

“There’s no way out of this now, I hope you know that.”

#Benedict Cumberbatch smut #professor fic #Benedict Cumberbatch imagine

[strangelockd]

A Queen For A Mindpalace

Pairing: Victorian Sherlock x Reader

Synopsis: You and Sherlock have a past, but before you attempt to move on. You stop by to make amends, only for a realization to take place. The question remains, will you stay or go?

Word Count: 2,750k

Warning: Angst,Pining,Tooth Rotting Fluff,Male Masterbation,Thigh Riding,Mentions Of Past Sexual Encounter,NSFW Themes

•If you enjoy the song you can find it on my Sherlock Playlist•

Slouching deeper into his favorite chair Sherlock stared up at the ceiling, she will come back. Casting his weary gaze to a small side table the detective reached for his trusty pipe, taking a few pinches of tobacco; his nimble fingers effortlessly stuffed the brown dried herb into the blackened wooden chamber. The leftover soot always stained his fingers with just a tinge of black. Packing the leaves snugly into the wooden bowl he smiled proudly. His fingers went groping inside his silk-lined pocket fishing out for the matchbox, sliding the paper box open Sherlock pinched out a match striking the side of the box and igniting the pipe chamber. Releasing a satisfied exhale, the smell of tobacco loomed in the flat leaving a smokey haze. It was the ideal evening after the week he had but something was missing. A sigh escaped his lips as he leaned over grabbing the violin trying to banish any thought from his mind.

You had your chance…many times, but now you really screwed it up. You brainless old fool….

Releasing a sigh, Sherlock brought the violin up resting it under his chin. His fingers effortlessly danced along the neckline as he got lost in one of his favorite pastimes. Closing his eyes, Sherlocks mind could not help but wander to all the memories. How could he forget the first-time you showed up on his doorstep in the middle of the night soaked from the storm, asking him to help find her father's killer. The case that would change his life forever in more ways than one. His mind wandered deeper as he recalled your first night together. How your delicious sex swallowed him perfectly like you were tailored just for him. Or the countless times those supple ruby-red lips moaned as you devoured him whole with a fiery passion. Little would he find out how much he craved that flame, your desire…the way you moaned his name as you reached the crescendo of your climax was better than any drug he ever consumed. 

He missed the nights he would worship at your feet getting drunk off you. The supple bounce your breasts made as you rode him again and again into climax. He missed the way they felt under his touch, the way your nipples would pebble under his touch as he would tease and pinch them into flushed sensitive buds. The way his hands would travel down the small of your back as he rested them on the swell of your hips. Oh, how he missed the way you tasted, the way his tongue traveled from bud to bud as he trailed his mouth up your sex-flushed skin leaving purple blossoms in their wake. The way you felt under him, the way your body bloomed only for him, for you were a force of nature, and he wanted to be in the center of your storm. But all of that was in the past now for he had to focus on the reality at play. You moved on, and he was stuck here in London…alone.

Sherlock groaned, noticing the stiffness in his trousers he rolled his eyes, for he was now conflicted with an obvious but still awkward choice. Setting the violin down, Sherlocks large slender digits slowly grazed the outside of his seams as his mind trailed back to you. Thumbing through a drawer he fished for a rag, his hips bucked at the increasing sensitivity of his pressing member making Sherlock groan. His eyes caught a white handkerchief, and hastily pawed for it, pulling it closer Sherlock noticed the lipstick stains…. Y/N. Lifting it to his nose he took a deep inhale taking in the remnants of your scent…lavender. The smell shot right to his cock as he felt the pressure grow greater. 

Oh, bloody hell screw it.

Lifting himself upward Sherlock quickly unbuttoned his trousers allowing as much that was necessary to do the deed. Once they rested on his knees Sherlock quickly sunk once more into the chair. His palm stroked across his virility thats now standing practically at the ready. As he grazed the bulbous head of his member, leaning his head back becoming lost in his own pleasure. Lost in the smell of you…His cock oozed out the hints of glistening pre cum as he groaned in ecstasy chasing his chemical high. 

Knock knock knock

Dropping the handkerchief to the floor Sherlock quickly adjusted his trousers breathlessly, “Mrs. Hudson, will you get that! I- I’m in the middle of something!” stuffing what he can into his pants with little avail he managed to finally straighten himself out. 

Her voice trailed off in the distance with that sweet tone, “Sherlock I’ve told you this before, I’m not your housekeeper,” hearing her bedroom door close shut Sherlock rolled his eyes again. Apparently, she was not going to accommodate.

Knock knock knock

“Ugh!” he scoffed standing up lazily. This better be worth it. Sherlock stood up reaching for his silken robe, tying the matching beige belt around his toned waist he looked around one last time. Making his way to the front door he turned the latch; suddenly having to catch his breath once more because it was you, of all the people standing outside looking beautiful as ever. Your corset hugging you in all the right places as his eyes trailed back to the ruby red lips he remembers so well. All those nights where you would entertain each other with the pleasures of your flesh and conversations, but those were faded passions burned to memories. His eyes casted his gaze to your voluptuous bosom. Admiring the rise and fall with the swelling of your breathing as his trousers slowly began returning to their previously stiffened state. Leaning against the doorframe Sherlock cleared his throat; an obvious poor attempt at maintaining composure. 

“Y/N…to what do I owe the spontaneous visit,” Sherlock stammered while his fingers nonchalantly adjusted his robes attempting to hide the growing stiffening arousal. Shrugging your shoulders, you allowed yourself in, “I was in the neighborhood and wanted to stop by.” Taking a seat in his chair you smirked knowing it would annoy him. Closing the door Sherlock turned walking back placing his hands in his pockets, staring at you flatly, “you know there’s another chair right there” gesturing with a finger masking his annoyance. Setting down your reticule drawstring bag smiling, “Ya but I like this spot and besides,” crossing your legs with a smug expression,” I’m a guest.”

Sherlock released a scoff rolling his eyes. Taking out the pipe he reached for the tobacco box. “You’re not a guest, you’re more of an annoyance” a beautiful annoyance, taking a step closer his eyes glowed against the fireplace. Igniting the chamber he exhaled a puff of smoke. 

“That’s mighty bold of you to say considering US,” spitting with venom in your tone. 

He paused returning his gaze to you, taking in his expression you noticed his eyes harden, “There never was an us Y/N,” those six words cut through your heart like ice. At that point you didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to get your point across and take your leave.

“Look I didn’t come here to argue Sherlock. In fact, I came to say goodbye.” That look of earnestness in your eyes left him dead in his tracks. He knew you were not lying this time about leaving England. You have an offer for a job overseas in the new world. It was going to be a fresh start for both of you since there was no future in London, especially with Sherlock Holmes.

He took another step closer his eyes never leaving yours, “Well if that’s the case, then I feel like there’s nothing much left to say” he took another puff, Tell her the truth…before it's too late. His mind screamed to stay but his feet lead him forward as he took the seat across from you.

Pausing, your mouth parted open in shock at his lack of response, “that’s it? That all you have to say Sherlock Holmes?” your tone above a whisper. Desperation hazed as you fought off the tears.

 He wasn’t going to fight for me after all…

“It’s just that…,” Sherlock took a deep sigh, “I don’t want to be the one who holds you back. You deserve a future and need to go on and forget about me Y/N.” By this time, he couldn’t look at you for it was too painful. He can already picture the devastation in your eyes. Peaking over, he was right. Tears streamed down your face as you reached for a tissue from the mahogany chaise lounge. You were always stunning, but when you cried it was devastatingly beautiful. It aroused him in some way. This look of pure innocence, walls completely torn down. You were a goddess of grace he couldn’t stay away from anymore no matter how hard he fought it.

Fight for her you idiot…just ask her, now!

Leaning forward he sat the pipe down next to him taking a deep breath. His gaze locked yours as he slowly raised a hand upward, “Y/N, you know this is for the best” his chest rose and fell quickly as he attempted to steady his breath all while convincing himself that this is even what he wanted. Sherlock couldn’t help his rapid heartbeat as he was sure you could hear it through his starched white shirt. The ring was burning a hole in his pocket at this point. Normally he was an excellent liar, but with you, he couldn’t mask the truth for very long.

“You don’t get it, do you?” wiping your eyes you noticed his eyes widening, “every time I walk away from you, I feel like a piece of your soul is with me. You’ve stolen my heart Sherlock Holmes, the least you can do is tell me what you intend to do with it before I g—.”

Before you could finish Sherlock lunged forward, his form towered over you on his favorite chair as his mouth consumed yours with a slow passion. His lips parted yours ever so slowly but begging to taste more. Despite the time apart your bodies still moved in sync with each other. As eager as he was to have you, Sherlock wanted to take his time to savor every bit of you. He noticed your hands instinctively trailing through his slicked-back hair, tugging the ravened strands gently. He released a hiss as his palms trailed down the chair to meet your face, he will have to fix his hair later no doubt. Sherlock smiled wide, he knew his hands were always your weakness, for you couldn’t help but lean into his touch making him smile all the brighter. 

Tilting your head back he dove deeper into your mouth savoring the taste of you. You moaned as he pulled away slowly, his nose just a hairline away. His thumb gently rubbed a tear away as he smiled sweetly at you. Your eyes widened as you saw your reflection in his sea-glass gaze. “I intend to never let it go again…because you are everything,” his gaze unwavering, he pressed your palm to his chest. Feeling the rapid tapping of his heart under his shirt, you realized he was not lying. “For you are worth the fight my love”

Your eyes lit up as he leaned into you once more feeling the warm tears stream down your cheek. Parting your lips, he moaned as he shifted your weight to his lap. Lifting your skirts, you adjusted yourself as you rested on top of his stiffening trousers. 

“Oh!” You exclaimed feeling yourself turning bright red. Even when not fully erect Sherlock’s cock made you blush. The reaction went straight to his cock as he smiled widely like the Cheshire Cat. 

His tone laced with lust and longing,

 “Like what you feel?” One hand wiping your tears as the other trailed down resting on your hip.

Rocking back and forth chanting like a prayer, “always…” you missed this. Missed the way he made you feel. Arching your back you rode him slowly, leaning into his hand enjoying every twitch and response Sherlock made. You always had a way of breaking him, turning the great detective into putty. You couldn’t help but grin as your eye caught something on the floor. Pausing your movements Sherlock groaned in protest. Leaning over scooping up the material immediately noticing was it is. The old handkerchief that you swore was “lost.” Returning upwards facing Sherlock you noticed a rosier tone in his cheeks as he looked away sheepishly. Dangling it in front of him you teased, “what's this?”

His ears flushed a bright red as he snatched it from your hand inhaling the thin cotton smiling sentimentality, “Oh, just a souvenir,” tucking it into his pocket he couldn’t wait any longer. 

“There’s been something I have been meaning to ask you”

Fishing out a small velvet box he grabbed your hand.

His voice was slightly shaking as Sherlock fumbled with the box, “I should have done this the first morning I woke up next to you Y/N”

Opening the box slowly your eye’s widened as they gazed upon a gorgeous diamond halo engagement ring. The beautiful rose gold complemented the fiery opal that stood in the center. It left you speechless. 

“Y/N, please stay. For I cannot survive another day of you not being my wife. I love you. Please, marry me” his eyes never left yours as he waited for an answer. Your hands shook as you sat there going through thousands of options at once. But all the options always lead back to him, this man in front of you who choose you above everyone else. This consulting detective was yours and you wanted to be his and his alone. Jumping off his lap you squealed, “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes! Of course, I will marry you!”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as Sherlock grinned from ear to ear. He stood up, placing the band on your finger before giving your palms a gentle kiss. His lips were warm and inviting as they danced up your arm. Peppering your face with kisses, he pulled you in for an embrace. The feeling of his sturdy form made you feel so comfortable and safe. Bringing your hand up he laced his with yours to gaze upon the glittering ring resembling your future together. 

“It really is very beautiful Sherlock, where did you even find it?” Leaning your head into his shoulder, Sherlock moved a lock of hair kissing your neckline whispering, “oh this, it was Mrs.Hudsons. She thought it would look perfect on you. She’s been hounding me for months to puck up the courage to ask you.”

You chuckled, “not surprised the great detective is bashful”

“Not bashful,” he chuckled placing another kiss against your neck, “just a old fool who kept waiting for the right moment”

His hands trailed to your waistline as he slowly turned you around. Arms laced around each other you both got swept away in the moment and began swaying back and forth together. A small, adorable dance that was shared between the two of you. Taking his hand up he spun you around slowly bringing you back to his chest. Leaning your head against him you took in the strength of his forearms, how you missed his embrace. Sighing with joy Sherlock sat back down in his chair, pulling you in his lap his arms laced around you, “Im sorry for saying such hurtful things my darling,” looking you in the eyes his voice lowered, “I love you more than anything in the world Y/N. And I can't wait for you to be my bride”

Lacing your fingers with your future bridegroom you brought them up to kiss his hand gently. The ring glimmered in the light as your forehead rested on his,“Its ok Sherlock, its in the past. What is love without forgiveness.”

Words were no longer needed as Sherlock held you tight, he was always a handsy man even though Sherlock would never admit it. Especially when after a case there was nothing he wanted more then to come home and just hold you. No words. Just the pure feeling of you with him. For you were not just his fiancé, but the queen to his mind palace, and you finally made your way back home. 

Heres the ring that inspired me…❤️

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[marvel-snape-writes]

The Story of Tonight.

Stephen Strange x original female character

18+ smut

Did someone say Stephen and a girl in a car??? 👀

Stephen Strange and his current love interest attend a party with mutual friends, but they know where the real fun is at...

(Snippet below, full story linked in title above ♥️)

Stephen watched closely with slightly parted lips from her words and the way she said them, shaking his head slightly to try and get out of his trance. The rest of the conversation was practically a blur to Stephen, his eyes veering over in Claudia’s direction the majority of the time. Once he spotted her breaking away from her friends and walking to the bar on her own, he politely nodded at his own group of friends and walked toward her. She had her back to him, minding her own business as she aimed to join the back of one of the queues. Stephen looked around him to make sure no one was watching him too closely before placing his hands upon Claudia’s waist from behind and smirking when he felt her startle slightly before naturally leaning back against him as his lips met her ear.

“Look,” He cleared his throat, holding her against him, “I just want to fuck.”

His words made Claudia both melt and freeze at the same time. She glanced to either side of her before tilting her head up and raising her eyebrows as their eyes met.

“What, right now?” She bit her lip.

“Right fucking now.” He growled into her ear.

“But… where?” She gazed up at him again, feeling her breathing change when one of his hands reached for hers.

“Come on,” He whispered before looking around the room, “Let’s get out of here for a little bit.”

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[pedropascal-blog]

Goosebumps - A Benedict Cumberbatch Fanfic - Part One

“Would you stop freaking out! It’s going to be okay!”

I had been examining my final look in the mirror while I was panicking to my best friend. I had a long tight elegant black dress on along with a black pair of heels that showed off my legs rather nicely.

I whipped around to look at my best friend, Noah, who also conveniently was my make-up artist.

“How could you say it’s going to be ‘okay’ when it’s not OKAY!” I frantically yelled as I grabbed both of her shoulders and shook her.

She burst into laughter as she shook her head and continued to apply the finishing touches of my makeup.

“At least we know you picked the right profession, drama queen, and anyways, this is everything you ever dreamed of. I know it’s scary, but scary things are usually just hidden gems in disguise. Don’t let it discourage you and even if you don’t win, you still are an amazing fucking actress!”

I threw my head up, looking up at the hotel lobby ceiling trying to stop any tears from coming out and ruining my makeup.

“Bestie! Stop! I’m going to ruin my makeup!” I laughed as I fanned my face with my hands

Noah hugged me tightly and laughed with me as she wiped away a few of her own tears.

Suddenly my agent and good friend, Jackson, walked up to us and wrapped his arms around both Noah and I’s shoulders. He bent down to our level and looked at the both of us with a ginormous smile.

“Are we ready to go to the fucking OSCARS, my ladies?!” He emphasized “Oscars” as we all cheered loudly, the rest of our team joining in.

We were escorted out of the hotel through the back to be sure no fans or paparazzi tried to see me before the award show and to be careful not to spoil my outfit. We piled into two different blacked-out SUVs and headed off toward the venue of the Oscars.

The drive took about ten minutes, plus the time it took to wait and get out of the car. A few of my bodyguards, Jackson and Noah talked amongst each other. They couldn’t wait for tonight, to watch everyone’s hard work finally pay off.

I on the other hand wanted to take this time to center myself before stepping out in front of hundreds of fans and cameras. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. Honestly, I was trying not to throw up the few tequila shots we all took in the hotel room from all the nerves I was feeling. I steadied my shaky hands from the anxiety and drew in one last deep breath before opening my eyes again.

Looking out the window, the event was now in view as we sat in the line of celebrities waiting to get out and walk the red carpet. Cheering fans hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite stars lined the sidewalks.

I couldn’t believe I was here. I dreamed of this moment since I could remember. I was a new actress who had her big break this year in a major film that broke box office records. My costars, Mark Wahlberg, and Hailee Steinfeld certainly helped with that. My head is still unable to believe how I, Nadine Pierce, could have ever achieved such a thing, to be in a movie with such big names.

My SUV came to halt, and Noah grabbed my hand, squeezing it.

“We are going to be right behind you the whole time, you got this! You deserve this!”

I gave her a hug and I turned my attention to Jackson who started talking.

“So, quickly before we get out let’s run through the red-carpet plan one more time. Noah and I...”  he motioned between the two of them “Are going to get out this door, and you that door. Then we will follow behind as Sandra, your publicist, guides you down the carpet and tells you what to do. You’ll take pictures, sign some autographs, and do some interviews. After, you’ll enter the venue and finally get to sit down and relax before the award show stars.”

Jackson took a deep breath before giving my hand a squeeze as well. “You’ll do great! Have fun! Enjoy the payoff of your hard work. Got it?”

“Got it” I said with a smile. I took one last deep breath before the car door flew open and the sound of screams filled my ears.

Joe, one of my bodyguards, held out his hand and helped me step out of the SUV. Instantly my eyes were met with the flashes of cameras

“Nadine!”

“Nadine! Look over here!”

“Nadine! Can you turn to your right a little bit!”

I made my way down the red carpet, and I was having such a good time. I was finishing up some pictures when I saw both Mark and Hailee were doing an interview. I did a light jog over, trying not to trip in my heels.

“I must have missed my invitation to this party!” I said as I ran up behind Hailee and Mark, wrapping my arms around their lower backs and standing between them. Everyone snapped their heads towards me, and they all happily welcomed me.

“Oh shit! An Oscar award winner just showed up!” Mark said, as he gave me side hug

“Stop! The show hasn’t even started yet! I mean, you two are more likely to be winning your categories than I am! I feel way too new still!”

Hailee turned to me surprised, “I have a good feeling that luck is on your side tonight too!”

I blew her a kiss and we all laughed. The interviewer asked us a few questions about our movie, and we said our goodbyes.

“Hey! Where are you guys sitting?” I asked before moving on to sign some autographs

“I am table 3 I think!” Hailee said. I grabbed her hands and said, “Me too!” and we both jumped excitedly.

“Oh god help me! A whole evening with you two?” Mark said, jokingly hitting his forehead

“ARE YOU TABLE 3” Hailee and I both screamed in unison and Mark nodded his head yes. We ran up to him and started jumping around him excitedly

“Alright! Alright! Go enjoy the rest of the walk down and I’ll see both of you at the table!” Mark said

We all laughed and hugged each other as we moved on down the rep carpet.

As I continued my way down the carpet, I got to meet a few amazing actors who had surprisingly come up to tell me how big of fans they are. I feel as if this is a fever dream.

I was waiting a moment before it was my turn with the last interviewer at the end of the red carpet and Noah who had been standing on the side waiting quickly jogged up to me. She leaned in closely, whispering in my ear.

“Don’t turn around now, but the ONE and ONLY Benedict Cumberbatch is behind you” and as quickly as she came up, she was gone, back to the side and giving me a thumbs up.

I froze in place, my heart started beating fast and my hands turned sweaty. I looked directly at Noah with wide eyes. She clapped her hands excitedly as she was entertained by watching you be flustered by your celebrity crush.  It took everything in my power to not turn around and fangirl on my absolute favorite actor.

Suddenly my breathing hitched in my throat as I felt a gentle squeeze on my arm and heard a rich and delightful British accent.

“Hey Love, I think they are waving you up” I heard him say in my ear as goosebumps ran up and down my arms.

Looking over my shoulder in what felt like slow motion, my eyes were met with his bright blue ones. He smiled brightly down at me while I stood there looking stupid with my mouth slightly open. I was in disbelief that this moment was real. Benedict Cumberbatch was looking at ME and I could have nearly fainted then and there.

I nervously laughed and mumbled some incoherent words before rushing up to the interviewer. She had warm and fun energy to her and welcomed me with open arms.

“I see you just met, Benedict Cumberbatch?” She said laughing and pulling out of the hug

“I think so” I nodded my head laughing, still in shock

“Everyone reacts the same way when they meet him for the first time. He’s a delight!” The interviewer responded and we shared a laugh, and I nodded in agreement.

My eyes betrayed me as I caught them glancing over to Benedict who was standing a few feet behind you, watching you intently with a smile. My cheeks went hot as I quickly directed my eye contact back to the interviewer who was now changing the subject.

“I want to start by saying I am a huge fan! This must be so surreal for you!”

“Thank you so much! It is! I’m walking down the red carpet in awe. I just am so lucky and thankful for this experience and to be able to have people around me to share it with!”

The interview continued for a few more minutes and we said our goodbyes. The whole time I fought my urges to glance over at Benedict who I could feel was looking at me. I made myself look like a fool the way I mumbled words that weren’t even understandable.

I hurried over to Noah and Jackson who had been patiently waiting for me. Noah touched up my makeup as Jackson handed me some water.

“Here, drink. I know you're thirsty after what just happened” Jackson smirked, and I gasped

“You guys have no idea how embarrassing that was! We need to get out of this area!”

I said as I grabbed both of their hands and pulled them into the venue all while they laughed hysterically behind me.

“Nadine it’s okay! He’s a fine-looking man!” Noah said while still laughing

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Thank you for reading! Disclaimer that all this is just fantasy and in no way to harm any real people. I loved writing this and hope people like it and want more!

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