dean charles chapman + george mackay imagines

thigh riding - dean charles chapman

dean worked hard. the amount of passion he put into learning lines, and his own dedication to executing his character showed well, and everyone could see it. what was slightly annoying was the way he worked so hard he sometimes forgot that his girl had needs, and as much as you knew he needed to work, you couldn't but feel frustrated anytime you looked at the way he sat, script in hand, mumbling lines over and over trying to find the right delivery and his hand running through his hair every few minutes.

today was much like the others, but today you were feeling the ache much more than usual and dean could tell.

"baby?" he called across the room, pulling you out of your thoughts, "you good?"

"mhm," you responded, almost signalling you weren't but you weren't ready to tell him why.

"come here," he said, patting his lap. so you stood up, huffing a bit, but taking seat, sideways, across his lap. "what's up?" he asked, but he knew the answer. he recognised the way you tugged on your lips and how you adjusted your position on the sofa for any kind of relief. in response you just shook you head, and buried it in his collarbone, subtly indicating what you wanted.

"baby, you know i've gotta work," he started but as soon as you started climbing off him, his hand reached to you hip to pull you back, "i didn't say anything about not helping you out though."

you sent him a confused glance, that he ignored, instead moving you legs to straddle his right thigh - it was at this point you started to catch on to his drift and let out a small giggle.

"something funny, love?" his tone harsh, but his fingers drawing circles on your hip was a soft movement. his hand moved to your back as you leant onto his chest. his hand began guiding your grinding movements on his thigh, but his eyes moved over the focus on the script he had been reading through before - his nonchalance making it so much easier for you to work to your high. your lips find their way to his neck, trying to muffle your moans through littering hickies across any available skin.

"want to hear you, love," he said and you began to move faster, your high approaching. you let out a moan, dean responding with a sly grin.

"good girl," he murmured into your ear, sending tingles down your back to your core. the simple words causing you to moan a little louder, and bring you closer to your release. he must've known you were close as he drops the script and his eyes move to focus on your head, tilted back in pleasure. his lips attach to your neck, nipping slightly at the exposed skin. his hands settled either side or your hips, helping you move along his thigh in a rough manner.

"dean, i'm close," you uttered out.

"i know baby, just a little more," his words, sending you over the edge as you reach your climax, and your movements slow gradually as you ride out your orgasm.

"thank you dean," you whispered, coming to a close and resting your head on his chest in exhaustion.

"thank me? thank you, more like. that was the hottest thing ive ever seen," he chuckled, and your face went red with embarrassment. he pressed his lips to yours in a swift movement, his hands coming up to hold your jaw.

"right, mr. back to work," you said, grinning as you climbed off him and headed back to to sofa you were on before.

"only if you promise to do that again one day."

"you could just give me the real thing," you reply, sending a quick wink.

dean just groans in response, he was now just as frustrated as you were.