the masochism tango
dan/georgina. 1323 words. r.
summary: Georgina finds she likes Dan best like this, all used up and spat out. Corrupting staunch morals is all good and fun, but there is something to having them come pre-corrupted. At the very least it's awfully convenient.
note: for Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
thecruelone! could not resist writing about these fucked up losers some more. set post s6 and all canon pretty much applies except dan is not gossip girl and he didn't marry serena. but that's not super important anyway.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
Their relationship so far has been a series of escalating dares.
Georgina finds she likes Dan best like this, all used up and spat out. Corrupting staunch morals is all good and fun, but there is something to having them come pre-corrupted. At the very least it's awfully convenient. And there's something unpredictable to him these days; it's hard to tell how much she'll have to push before he bends. She prods and provokes and waits for him to say uncle. These days, he doesn't say it often.
He was essentially hers as soon as he and Serena imploded, something anyone could have seen coming a mile away. He was too tired to really try with anyone new, and he had no love left to give. His professional life was already in Georgina's hands; it was easy to hand over his personal one.
Their apartment is made up of bright red walls and floor to ceiling windows. It's decorated to reflect the life they have together: hard and modern, take no prisoners. Magazines love to do shoots at their ultra-Manhattan home with the city looming through the glass. They're some kind of power couple – fancy that.
In the afternoons it's less imposing. Dan sprawls on the rug with the kid playing all those children's games she has no interest in, and it's perhaps the only time something of the old Dan sparks to attention in him. He would only consent to having a night nanny, so Georgina allows him his babying during the day but every night she sweeps him away: for writing, for networking, for meet-and-greets. For sex. All of his nights belong to Georgina. That's how she wants it. It's her wifely duty, after all.
Or it would be, if Dan would marry her.
She buys herself a ring with his credit card: princess cut black diamond, halo setting, white gold with a triple band of pavé diamonds. She has excellent taste. Dan takes one look at it and rolls his eyes. He thinks he could get along so easy without her – well, what does he know.
That's why she decides she wants a more permanent commitment.
They're at a bar, very late, the kind of highly private place she likes him to be seen at, a place with a cultivated clientele and no name on the outside. Georgina wears a long black dress with a slit to her thigh; she put Dan in a nice leather jacket, a little scruffy, just like him. They're playing cards. Just the two of them – a private little ritual she likes.
"You have an abysmal poker face," she tells him.
"Maybe I'm throwing you off on purpose," Dan mutters, but he's frowning at his cards and gnawing his lip and just generally giving the entire game way. Abysmal.
"Let's see then." She throws down her cards, waiting. Dan hesitates a beat too long and just like that, she knows she's got him.
They stakes are high in their card games. Money doesn't mean anything to Georgina, really. She wants attention. She wants proof.
(Of course, this goes both ways; she's lost once or twice. One time she had to wear a headband in bed and she was not happy about that. Which probably had more to do with his request than anything else.)
"Alright," he sighs, once he fans out his cards, decimated by hers. "What do you want?"
"I've been thinking, darling…" Her fingers snake out to wrap around his, pulling his hand closer. "You'd look just dashing with a tattoo." She taps his left ring finger. Her nails are a deep, jewel-tone purple. "Right here."
Dan looks down at their hands – hers polished and smooth, having never done an honest day's work, and his a little rougher, dry skin and ink marks – and grasps her meaning instantly. "You cannot be serious."
Georgina smiles and leans over the table to kiss his cheek. "I'm not getting down on one knee."
Georgina prepared in advance, so they leave the lounge to go get his tattoo right then, even though it's nearly three in the morning. Dan huffs and grumbles and says he's "just as fuckin' crazy as you are" – but he never says no.
It's a simple little design (also prearranged), just some thin, spiky black lines woven around her own very distinctive G. Dan scowls the whole time, nose wrinkling as he winces every so often, but honestly the whole thing takes less than twenty minutes. He holds it up to show her after, skin slightly raw and swollen. "Branded for life," he says. Georgina ignites all over at the thought.
Dan makes her wait until they return home, check on the spawn, lock their bedroom door. That's when she pounces, kisses him hard enough to crash sideways into the mirrored armoire. Dan shoves her back and this time they land against the dresser, overturning unlit candles and perfume bottles. He has his hand between her legs before he's even really kissed back; he lets Georgina's mouth mark him up with lipstick but his own remains unresponsive, for now.
Georgina pushes him into the armchair beside the dresser and steps back to unzip her dress, letting the slinky black fabric slip off her and hit the ground. Dan sometimes pretends that he only puts up with her, but it's never so clearly bullshit as when he's looking at her with her clothes off, tits pushed up in satin, lace snug around her hips. She lets him get a good eyeful before getting in his lap. He does kiss her then, grabs her ass, tugs her bra cup down enough to rub her nipple. She opens his shirt but doesn't take it off him. Her nails drag over his chest just this side of painful.
Then she pulls the bandage off his newly tattooed finger. It's settling already. It's so permanent. She kisses it just to watch him wince again. But he doesn't – he just gives her a curious, knowing look. As though he knows anything.
Dan has his hands on her face and he's looking in her eyes, keeping her jaw open, lips parted. His thumb slides over her bottom lip, then his tongue flicks gently against her mouth. He kisses her, mouth soft and wet, and his eyes are still open. "I can't shake you, huh," he says.
"Doesn't seem likely." Georgina opens his jeans, takes him in her hand, and rises up on her knees so she can sink back down, panties pushed aside.
"Mm…" The murmur leaves his throat low and meditative. He fucks up into her slow and hard, forceful and unhurried upwards thrusts. "Not even if I wanted to?"
His left hand is on the base of her throat and she covers it with her own, letting her fingertips trace over the design there. She'd drag her nails over it but she doesn't want to ruin it. "Nope."
He goes a little faster because he knows that's how she likes it but as soon as she moans, as soon as it seems like she might be anywhere close to close, he slows down. He does it again and again, until Georgina's eyes slide open again to meet his. "You're gonna stick around forever," he says, not a question, gaze trained on her. "Keep picking me up. Floating me along. Because you're my girl, right, Georgie? You're my girl?"
She has the sudden desire to slap him or maybe dig her thumb into his windpipe. He should know better than to antagonize her, because Georgina isn't very good at listening to safewords.
"You love me?" he asks, and it's so mocking it could've come out of her mouth.
She kisses him again but then bites his lip so hard she wouldn't be surprised if it drew blood. It didn't, and Dan laughs, and Georgina hates nothing so much as being laughed at.
"Next time," she says, "I'm gagging you."
dan/georgina. 1323 words. r.
summary: Georgina finds she likes Dan best like this, all used up and spat out. Corrupting staunch morals is all good and fun, but there is something to having them come pre-corrupted. At the very least it's awfully convenient.
note: for Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
thecruelone! could not resist writing about these fucked up losers some more. set post s6 and all canon pretty much applies except dan is not gossip girl and he didn't marry serena. but that's not super important anyway. Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
Their relationship so far has been a series of escalating dares.
Georgina finds she likes Dan best like this, all used up and spat out. Corrupting staunch morals is all good and fun, but there is something to having them come pre-corrupted. At the very least it's awfully convenient. And there's something unpredictable to him these days; it's hard to tell how much she'll have to push before he bends. She prods and provokes and waits for him to say uncle. These days, he doesn't say it often.
He was essentially hers as soon as he and Serena imploded, something anyone could have seen coming a mile away. He was too tired to really try with anyone new, and he had no love left to give. His professional life was already in Georgina's hands; it was easy to hand over his personal one.
Their apartment is made up of bright red walls and floor to ceiling windows. It's decorated to reflect the life they have together: hard and modern, take no prisoners. Magazines love to do shoots at their ultra-Manhattan home with the city looming through the glass. They're some kind of power couple – fancy that.
In the afternoons it's less imposing. Dan sprawls on the rug with the kid playing all those children's games she has no interest in, and it's perhaps the only time something of the old Dan sparks to attention in him. He would only consent to having a night nanny, so Georgina allows him his babying during the day but every night she sweeps him away: for writing, for networking, for meet-and-greets. For sex. All of his nights belong to Georgina. That's how she wants it. It's her wifely duty, after all.
Or it would be, if Dan would marry her.
She buys herself a ring with his credit card: princess cut black diamond, halo setting, white gold with a triple band of pavé diamonds. She has excellent taste. Dan takes one look at it and rolls his eyes. He thinks he could get along so easy without her – well, what does he know.
That's why she decides she wants a more permanent commitment.
They're at a bar, very late, the kind of highly private place she likes him to be seen at, a place with a cultivated clientele and no name on the outside. Georgina wears a long black dress with a slit to her thigh; she put Dan in a nice leather jacket, a little scruffy, just like him. They're playing cards. Just the two of them – a private little ritual she likes.
"You have an abysmal poker face," she tells him.
"Maybe I'm throwing you off on purpose," Dan mutters, but he's frowning at his cards and gnawing his lip and just generally giving the entire game way. Abysmal.
"Let's see then." She throws down her cards, waiting. Dan hesitates a beat too long and just like that, she knows she's got him.
They stakes are high in their card games. Money doesn't mean anything to Georgina, really. She wants attention. She wants proof.
(Of course, this goes both ways; she's lost once or twice. One time she had to wear a headband in bed and she was not happy about that. Which probably had more to do with his request than anything else.)
"Alright," he sighs, once he fans out his cards, decimated by hers. "What do you want?"
"I've been thinking, darling…" Her fingers snake out to wrap around his, pulling his hand closer. "You'd look just dashing with a tattoo." She taps his left ring finger. Her nails are a deep, jewel-tone purple. "Right here."
Dan looks down at their hands – hers polished and smooth, having never done an honest day's work, and his a little rougher, dry skin and ink marks – and grasps her meaning instantly. "You cannot be serious."
Georgina smiles and leans over the table to kiss his cheek. "I'm not getting down on one knee."
Georgina prepared in advance, so they leave the lounge to go get his tattoo right then, even though it's nearly three in the morning. Dan huffs and grumbles and says he's "just as fuckin' crazy as you are" – but he never says no.
It's a simple little design (also prearranged), just some thin, spiky black lines woven around her own very distinctive G. Dan scowls the whole time, nose wrinkling as he winces every so often, but honestly the whole thing takes less than twenty minutes. He holds it up to show her after, skin slightly raw and swollen. "Branded for life," he says. Georgina ignites all over at the thought.
Dan makes her wait until they return home, check on the spawn, lock their bedroom door. That's when she pounces, kisses him hard enough to crash sideways into the mirrored armoire. Dan shoves her back and this time they land against the dresser, overturning unlit candles and perfume bottles. He has his hand between her legs before he's even really kissed back; he lets Georgina's mouth mark him up with lipstick but his own remains unresponsive, for now.
Georgina pushes him into the armchair beside the dresser and steps back to unzip her dress, letting the slinky black fabric slip off her and hit the ground. Dan sometimes pretends that he only puts up with her, but it's never so clearly bullshit as when he's looking at her with her clothes off, tits pushed up in satin, lace snug around her hips. She lets him get a good eyeful before getting in his lap. He does kiss her then, grabs her ass, tugs her bra cup down enough to rub her nipple. She opens his shirt but doesn't take it off him. Her nails drag over his chest just this side of painful.
Then she pulls the bandage off his newly tattooed finger. It's settling already. It's so permanent. She kisses it just to watch him wince again. But he doesn't – he just gives her a curious, knowing look. As though he knows anything.
Dan has his hands on her face and he's looking in her eyes, keeping her jaw open, lips parted. His thumb slides over her bottom lip, then his tongue flicks gently against her mouth. He kisses her, mouth soft and wet, and his eyes are still open. "I can't shake you, huh," he says.
"Doesn't seem likely." Georgina opens his jeans, takes him in her hand, and rises up on her knees so she can sink back down, panties pushed aside.
"Mm…" The murmur leaves his throat low and meditative. He fucks up into her slow and hard, forceful and unhurried upwards thrusts. "Not even if I wanted to?"
His left hand is on the base of her throat and she covers it with her own, letting her fingertips trace over the design there. She'd drag her nails over it but she doesn't want to ruin it. "Nope."
He goes a little faster because he knows that's how she likes it but as soon as she moans, as soon as it seems like she might be anywhere close to close, he slows down. He does it again and again, until Georgina's eyes slide open again to meet his. "You're gonna stick around forever," he says, not a question, gaze trained on her. "Keep picking me up. Floating me along. Because you're my girl, right, Georgie? You're my girl?"
She has the sudden desire to slap him or maybe dig her thumb into his windpipe. He should know better than to antagonize her, because Georgina isn't very good at listening to safewords.
"You love me?" he asks, and it's so mocking it could've come out of her mouth.
She kisses him again but then bites his lip so hard she wouldn't be surprised if it drew blood. It didn't, and Dan laughs, and Georgina hates nothing so much as being laughed at.
"Next time," she says, "I'm gagging you."