#and with the way this week is going I don’t give a fuck if I get fired
Text
PORNSTAR PART.2
Pornstar! Natasha Romanoff x F! Reader
Summary: After your movie with Natasha, the redhead can't stop thinking about you without knowing that you're thinking about her too.
PART.1
WC: 7,7k (sorry again)
Warnings: SMUT, Dom!Natasha/Sub!Reader, masturbation, blowjob, squirt, beating(a little bit), curse words, unprotected sex, Nat has a penis.
MINORS DNI MASTERLIST N.R
This fic is an adaptation, all rights reserved to the real author.
A/n: Thinking about writing a part 3, but I don't want it to become a series
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any spelling mistakes
You only had time to blink and look around the room to realize that Natasha was gone.
But also, what were you waiting for?
Kisses ? Smiles? Cuddles?
By God, she was a porn star, she had done her job and, well... You had done yours. There was nothing else to do there.
“Y/n, my dear. You exceeded all my expectations!” Carol said, coming closer to you and holding out a white robe to you.
Only at that moment do you realize that you were naked in front of several men. You feel absurdly embarrassed and your face heats up so quickly that you think you're going to explode.
“Don’t be like that…” Carol’s smile grew wider when she saw you quickly tie your robe. “They are more than used to seeing beautiful naked women. And they are professional enough
“How should I feel? I have fulfilled your ridiculous contract, and now I will return to my home. Our ties end here.” you say, getting up and disguising your wobbly legs.
All those orgasms had consequences.
“Don’t talk like it was a great torment for you, Y/n. We both know you enjoyed the moment... I would love to close more contracts with you.”
“That’s not going to happen, Carol.” you say giving her a wry smile. “If that was all you had to tell me…”
You try to take a step, but she holds your arm. Her eyes penetrated yours and a naughty smile appeared on her lips.
“Y/n... That rebellious way of yours makes me so horny.”
You're sure your expression reflected all your indignation, because she pulled away and laughed at you.
“Okay, I understand that your thing is someone like Natasha, but if by any chance you change your mind or want to try something new... You know my number, just call me, baby…” she approached to kiss your cheek and walked away again. “I confess that I will wait for this call with anxiety, even without knowing if, one day, you will accept my proposal.”
Winking at you, she threw her blonde hair back and walked off the set swaying, leaving you completely stunned. She had just flirted with you without any shame.
This pornographic, naughty and obscene world…
A week later...
"Natasha, please, please!"
Your moans echoed through the office, while Carol had a satisfied smile on her face. Natasha wanted to have that same smile, but she just couldn't. Something very, very strange was happening to her.
A week had passed since the recording. A week in which Natasha's dick never got up.
Her dick would only rise if she thought about you.
Natasha had already refused three scenes claiming she was feeling ill, and Carol had ignored it because she knew the redhead had a sensitive stomach, but she knew it was a lie. Natasha thought about you and her dick went up, she thought about someone else, it went down with the same ease. What the hell is that? She also wanted to know, but had no answer.
Like now. You were moaning while being fucked by Natasha on Carol's computer screen, and the redhead's cock was so hard that it hurt in her underwear. But if she were to have sex with any other woman, she knew she wouldn't be able to do it.
“Natasha, Natasha, wake up!” Carol knocked on the table, making the redhead look at her. “Where were you thinking?”
“What?"
“I've been calling you for an hour and you're there, with this stupid look on your face, looking at the computer screen…” Natasha rolled her eyes. “I know Y/n is beautiful and everything, but it seems like you’re under a spell. In fact, we have to talk.”
Calor smiled humorlessly and Natasha swallowed, knowing exactly what it was about.
“Why did you cum inside Y/n?”
Natasha looks at Carol and takes a deep breath, knowing that she could say anything to her, even if she didn't want to, like at that moment, admitting certain things is not always easy.
“I lost control…” Natasha murmurs.
“You never lose control.”
“I know, Carol, I know! But... I kept looking at her, you know? I looked straight into her eyes, while my mind just told me to keep looking at her until I came, look at her until I came, look at her…”
“I understand, Natasha, I understand.” Carol interrupted Natasha, leaning against her chair, analyzing the redhead. “You know what... I know very well what you need.”
“And what do I need?”
“You’re going to get this here.” Carol took the DVD with the edited scenes from Natasha's film with you and placed it in front of her. “You going to Y/n’s house with the excuse that he went there just to show the edited film, you going to seduce her and have sex with her. I was clear? She's hot as hell, Romanoff, and I think it's been a long time since you've starred with a woman so… Normal. You just need one more fuck to forget her for good.”
One more fuck... To forget you? Natasha doesn't think that's likely, a woman who is a real woman doesn't forget a woman like you. But if this was an excuse to have you in her bed, or in your bed, not that she really cared what surface she could have you on again... She should accept it, shouldn't she?
“You're right…” Natasha says, taking the DVD and standing up. “I'm going to do this for both of us, because I know that if she gave you even a little chance, you would have taken her to bed by now.”
Carol looked at the redhead and laughed, twisting her hair into a bun on top of her head.
“True, baby. But I still hope she actually calls me.”
“If it’s up to me, you’ll wait forever” Natasha says laughing towards the door. "Wish me luck.”
“Ah as if you needed it” Carol rolled her eyes as Natasha walked out of the office laughing.
Your apartment was in a middle-class building, on the outskirts of downtown New York. Natasha getting there was easy and quick, as the late afternoon was calm and rush hour was already over. The doorman, a man in his early fifties, called you over the intercom and Natasha thought the first thing she would hear was no. But the doorman smiled and said you were waiting for her at your apartment. Natasha was starting to perk up.
Natasha calls the elevator and after a few minutes the metal door opens. A woman came out and then a redhead, who she identified automatically.
“Wanda...Good to see you.” Natasha smiles, lightly squeezing her hand.
“Good to see you too, Natasha. Y/n is waiting for you upstairs.” Wanda laughed and walked away.
There wasn't time for Natasha to say anything. Before she could even open her mouth, Wanda turned and walked away, leaving the redhead alone again.
Natasha's cock pulsed again, remembering the mission Natasha had ahead of her. The redhead called the elevator again and went to the tenth floor. She presses the doorbell of apartment 1005 and I immediately hear her voice, asking for a moment. Natasha footsteps, a piece of furniture being dragged, followed by a "fuck" loud enough to be heard down the entire hallway and soon after, the door opened, revealing you dressed in a gray blouse and black panties, making Natasha's dick twitch for the thousandth time that morning.
Ah... Damn, and hot Y/n. Natasha thinks.
For a moment, you think your brain was tricking you. I mean, when you heard the doorbell ring through your apartment, the first thing that came to your mind was that Wanda had forgotten something and came back to get it. But of course that wouldn't be it.
Damn destiny always has to conspire against people. Natasha was standing at your door, with a slutty smile on her lips, dressed entirely in black. Aviator-style sunglasses covered her green eyes, but it didn't take much to know that they were at that point of wetting the panties of the coldest woman on the face of the earth. It also didn't take long for you to notice that you were practically half-naked with a horny woman at your door.
“Natasha! Yeah, um... I need to get dressed, Wanda... she... I'm..." shit! Where are the fucking words when you need them?
“Calm down, Y/n.” The redhead said in a solemn tone and walked past you.
She entered as if she was already a resident of the house and walked through the small hall to your living room, where she sat with her legs open and took off her glasses.
I must mention that she made a point of looking you up and down, making you feel even more... Undressed.
“You don’t have to be like this, Y/n. It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before, right?”
At his lack of response, Natasha continued. “I'm going to put on a movie for us to watch if you don't mind…” says Natasha looking for her DVD player
“I do care, you arrive here unannounced, enter my house and want to go through my things as if we had known each other for decades” you say, practically huffing with anger.
Natasha tilted her head to the side and slowly analyzed you from top to bottom, with a smile on the corner of her lips.
That expression of "I don't give a fuck about what you just said" was making you even more angry.
“Firstly, yes, I was announced. And your doorman told me you were waiting for me up here. Second… It's just a TV and a DVD player, it's not like I'm going to rob you when you turn your back, because if you turn your back, I'd be busy looking at your beautiful, big ass and I may not have known you for decades, but I think we're already close enough, so... Why so much formality?
“This... This casual way of yours irritates me!” You mutter under your breath, looking at her and seeing her laugh.
“Ah, Y/n, you wouldn't be the first to be irritated by my way of being. But I already showed you once, that I can transform your irritation into multiple orgasms… I can show you again if you want.” Natasha raised an eyebrow, looking at you defiantly.
Sir… you have to send her away as soon as possible!
“Natasha... I know you're the type of woman who only knows how to talk about sex, orgasms and cumming wildly, and you know, as much as this type of subject doesn't please me, I would stay here and listen to everything you have to say, but... I'm leaving. Seriously, I have to leave soon, so... Can we talk later? I swear I'll listen to you for a whole day, but now I really can't.”
It was obvious that she wasn't going out, but you were going to receive visitors and the last thing you wanted was for William, yes, your ex, to see Natasha with you. Not that I cared about the son of a bitch's opinion.
Romanoff's laugh echoed throughout your apartment, breaking you out of the trance you were in. She looked at you with an amused expression, her eyes full of good humor.
“I'd love to talk to you about sex, orgasms and cumming wildly, Y/n, but that's not why I came here. Sit here, I want to show you something... I promise I'll be quick.”
She raised her eyebrow once again and you gave up, going over to her and sitting next to her. With my remote control in hand, she pressed a button and the television turned on, revealing images... Images of the two of you in bed.
"But this is…"
"Yes my dear. It's the two of us in action. You’ll see how good we are together, Y/n!” Natasha says with a proud smile on her face.
She pressed play and soon the movie started. You were lying down and your belly felt cold when she woke up and started kissing you. You get goosebumps, as if you could feel her skin with every touch she was giving you, on the TV screen. You could see that the film was well edited, because not even five minutes had passed and Natasha was already kissing your breasts. Holy God, your face was on fire and you were squirming unintentionally on the couch, feeling a strange excitement explode in your belly.
“Hot, isn’t it?” Natasha asked, looking directly at you.
You swallow hard, looking down the redhead's body and seeing the gigantic volume that her erection was making.
How did she do it so quickly?
But who did you want to fool?
You were also just as turned on as she was, in less than five minutes.
“Ah, Y/n... “ she murmured, placing two fingers on your chin and lifting it, so that your gaze focused on hers. “If I said that I didn't come here with the intention of fucking you, I would be lying through my teeth. I came here with this intention pounding in my head and I need to know if you want it too. Do you want to fuck me, Y/n?”
For what words, when a simple nod was enough? You nodded and before you could even blink, Natasha had already taken your mouth in hers in a kiss of possession, making you Her tongue dueled with yours, while you felt her erection massaging your womb, her scent intoxicating every corner of your being. You hadn't realized how much you were missing her until that moment, where she slowly felt every corner of your body, applying pressure to the areas where he knew you would shudder and moan into her lips. In a hurry, you put your hands on her blouse, pulling it up until she was left with just a black bra.
Flustered, as you were, you rip off that piece that opened at the front and throw it on the floor, leaving her breasts completely exposed. Natasha laughs at your haste and you even think she would say one of her infamous sentences, but she just threw herself on top of you again, right after ripping off your shirt with the same haste you took off hers. You hear a hoarse moan come out of her throat as she gazes at your bare breasts, with your nipples hard from the excitement she had just given you.
“You know, Y/n... I have to confess something to you.” Natasha looks at you, slowly running her fingers over your stiff nipples. “I haven't had sex since the day we recorded. Because that hot pussy of yours made my dick addicted. I'm fucking addicted to you, my dick only rises when my mind remembers your taste, your body, even when I remember the color of your eyes. So, Detka... When I start, don't you dare stop me.”
"I will not stop." You murmur, kneeling on the couch, almost at her height.
You take your hands to her pants and unbutton the first button, then the second and lower yourself down with her underwear, making her member jump out, thick and pink.
“I will never stop, Natasha, because... I'm addicted to you too.”
It was your only option: either you revealed it, or you said no. And saying the word "no" didn't even become an issue for you. Natasha laughed and sat up, looked towards her own dick and raised an eyebrow. “Touch me, Y/n.”
You bring your hand to her member and take it, moving it down and up slowly. Her dick was hot and touching her like that, you could tell how thick she was. How had she fit inside you?
It wasn't a question you had an answer to, but you think your anatomy had to expand a lot to contain it.
Natasha moaned softly and looked at the movements in her penis, as if she was hypnotized. You increase the speed, feeling your mouth water. “Um… Suck it.”
It wasn't a simple request. It was like an order and you never thought you would feel your panties get wet listening to a woman order you to suck her. You get off the sofa and Natasha adjusts herself, sitting with her spine straight and opening her legs so that you can sit between them. When Natasha saw that you were comfortable, the redhead took your hair with her right hand and caressed your face with her left, before slowly pushing you towards her cock.
You would never be able to fit it all in your mouth, that was a fact. So, you start licking it from bottom to top, and when you reach the glans, you collect the pre-ejaculatory liquid with your tongue. Natasha was delicious and you never thought otherwise. The bittersweet taste sharpened your senses even more and with your excitement raised to its maximum level, you lean over and suck the glans with affection and force, making Natasha move her hips violently, putting her dick in your mouth.
“Fuck...Y/n...I always lose my fucking control with you! Fuck me babe let’s go!” Natasha screamed, tying your hair in a ponytail, and starting to move her hips with impressive agility.
You just open your mouth and let her in for a few seconds, before taking control of the entire situation. You take her penis down your throat, but half of it was still out of your mouth, so you start sucking half of it and masturbating the other half. Natasha looked at you madly, her mouth open, sweat breaking out on her forehead, her light green eyes were now dark, while your cheeks became concave from sucking so much.
But you didn't want to stop. That woman had given you, in a single sex, more orgasms than you had ever achieved with your ex-boyfriend during your entire relationship.
Why would you deny her a quick cum in your mouth? Not to mention it was very exciting to see her so dependent on you like that.
Looking into her eyes, you run your tongue along the opening of her penis, while massaging her testicles with gentleness and precision. She moaned loudly and threw her head back as you went back to sucking her. You feel her dick grow in your mouth, really pulsing. It was wonderful. “Y/n... If you don’t stop now, I’m going to cum.” Natasha roared, looking back at you.
You look at her and take her penis to the opening of your throat, making the glans go deeper and deeper. You feel your eyes widen from making her go so deep and she moans, pressing your head down. Her member pulsed quickly in your mouth and she lifted your head only to make her glans come out of your throat, before spurting her hot cum onto your tongue.
"I'm going to cum! Y/n, fuck, my god, fuck…” Damn! Natasha screamed wildly, while you swallowed and sucked her, without success, as she didn't stop cumming.
After a few minutes, Natasha threw herself on the couch with her eyes still on you, while you cleaned her member with your tongue. The redhead's cum had run down your mouth and neck, but you didn't care. You had just seen that woman moan like never before and come too, apparently.
Maybe it's because of the time she told you that she hadn't had sex, but you decide not to focus too much on that. You let her clean member fall onto her belly, seeing that she was still semi-erect.
You move away a little and take a deep breath, letting the air enter your lungs again. The redhead smiled and approached, taking your chin in her hands. Slowly, she ran her tongue down your neck, collecting all her own semen along the way, until she reached your mouth and kissed you with precision, spreading her own cum across your tongue, surprising you that she didn't feel any disgust or anything like that, like William felt... William... SHIT
You had totally forgotten he was on his way.
Natasha looked indignant when you pushed her and got up, picking up your blouse from the floor and putting it on quickly, before throwing Natasha's blouse in her face, along with the bra. “Quickly, Natasha! Get dressed! Damn, shit, I can’t believe this…”
You mumbled and mumbled and walked back and forth, until you stopped in front of the mirror in the room and fixed your disheveled hair, the hair that Natasha had disheveled, while you deliciously sucked her cock. Had you not yet realized that the redhead was indignant? She was very indignant and there is still some idiot ringing the doorbell non-stop.
“Y/n! Oh, don't say you're going to back out now. Please, you said you would welcome me.”
And yes. An idiot man! “I’m coming, William!” You screamed. “Natasha! For God's sake, haven't you even gotten dressed yet? Wake up, dammit!”
After Natasha finishes getting dressed and once again refuses to hide for her date to happen, you look at the redhead from top to bottom and the doorbell rang once again. William was impatient. If you had any objections to make, they were dismissed completely, as you turned and with hesitant steps made your way to the door. Natasha follows you and as soon as she stopped behind you, you opened the door, revealing William for Natasha to evaluate. First impression of the redhead: tall, brown eyes and a virgin face!
This guy certainly didn't know how to fuck a blow-up doll. “Hi, William,” you murmur, making room for him to pass.
He looked at you and then at Natasha and walked in facing the redhead, analyzing her from top to bottom and the redhead did the same to him. Natasha didn't know who he was or what he meant to you, but with that virgin face, she highly doubted that he would achieve anything with you after meeting her.
Now you knew that having sex with a woman was a thousand times better and the redhead was sure that you would never leave her to be with that idiot.
“Would you let go of her?” Natasha doesn't know, but her subconscious makes her have a total feeling of ownership over you and she doesn't know how to deal with it yet. “Hm... Natasha... this is my ex-boyfriend, William.”
Ah... The ex. Natasha loves meeting them
“Hello, William. I’m her current girlfriend, Natasha Romanoff.” Natasha says, giving him her best smile and extending her hand to him. And of course, completely ignoring the scared look you gave her. “I’m William, the ex-boyfriend and future again.” he said, shaking the redhead's hand.
Audacious. Natasha liked it. However, he didn't know where he was stepping.
"Future? I don’t think Y/n is willing to repeat the menu, if you know what I mean.” Natasha responds by putting her arm around your shoulders and placing a tender kiss on your head. “She’s already with someone better, isn’t that right, Detka?”
The only thing you can do is stutter and mumble nonsense words. "Calm down!" William interrupted the redhead “I know very well who you are!”
"You know ?" Natasha asks, arching an eyebrow..
"Of course I know! Y/n, since when have you been dating porn stars? I know you liked women in college, but damn, are you going crazy?”
“William, calm down, it’s not at all what you’re thinking.” you said, trying to break away from Natasha but she puts her arms around your waist holding you tight against her. “That’s not what you’re thinking at all William, Natasha is just a friend.” You say trying to calm the situation.
“Y/n, you don’t need to be so shy. Detka, after everything we've done, we can't be considered just friends.” Natasha smiles. “William, I am a porn actress and Y/n is in a relationship with me. There’s nothing big about it.” Natasha shrugs, looking at him and waiting for her answer. “Yes, you have a dick!” William spoke in a higher tone of voice, “I don’t even know if it’s right to call you a woman.” Okay, that went too far!
"Oh yes? I don't think this was a problem for Y/n minutes ago, when we were... Natasha puts her index finger on her lips and pretends to think “You know, or rather, I don't know if you know, with that virgin face... But back, when we were fucking like crazy before you pressed that damn bell and interrupted our orgasm.”
There was only an inch left for William's mouth to stop touching the ground. He was perplexed and you were trying really hard not to laugh in his face. The man's gaze alternated between you again, the atmosphere in the entrance hall became too comical for Natasha, while you only knew how to widen your eyes with each passing second.
“Y/n…” William started. “When you said I could come here, I thought we would finally talk and understand each other. But apparently, I was totally wrong. I never imagined you could go so low. A porn film actress? Even more so with…” he analyzed the redhead with a look of disgust “Her! Damn, that’s disgusting, I would never imagine that!”
"You would never imagine that she would find someone a thousand times better than you. Ah yes, the redhead's subconscious decided to join her in this battle, at least once in her life. The man shook his head, looking disappointed and walked past you two, opening the door.
“I hope you are satisfied with this mediocre choice. Just think of everything I could give you, all the stability, comfort and hope of a safe life, which you will never have with a freak, I mean…woman like that.” Looking at you once more, he turned and left, slamming the door behind him.
“That’s right, idiot ! Get lost, because the girl is already mine!” says Natasha raising her voice a little
Well... At least that was what Natasha was convinced of, until she looked to the side and saw that you were no longer there. You had gone to the living room and were sitting on the sofa, with your face buried in your hands. Natasha didn't know what had happened between you and this William. The redhead doesn't know why you two broke up, or if you still had hopes of being together. The only thing she knew, at that very moment, was that if you still liked him, maybe... Maybe she really fucked up the possibility of you guys getting back together at some point.
“Y/n... Shit! A thousand times shit!” You didn't need to look for you to realize that Natasha had already approached you. You would be very stupid if you thought she would just leave. “Y/n, please... Don’t say I fucked up your almost-future relationship?”
Natasha's tone sounded regretful and you were almost believing that she was truly sorry. “Y/n, fuck, talk to me!”
“What do you want me to say, Natasha?” You ask, lifting your head and looking at the redhead. “I want you to answer me, to curse me... To do something, damn it! I can't read thoughts yet, I need a clue here, to know if I messed up or not… To see if I can fix something, even though I think it would be a waste of time for you to have a relationship with that virgin guy…”
“What face?” You held back a laugh as you looked at her, but it didn't have much effect, because a smile spread across your face. “Virgin face... Y/n, he does have a virgin face! Tell the truth, he fucks in a horrible way, doesn’t he?”
What could you do but laugh and agree? A loud laugh escaped your throat before you could contain it and Natasha followed you, as you nodded, shaking your head. “Really, he fucks horribly! Can you believe I never had an orgasm with him?”
You were indignant as you laughed, but soon Natasha stopped laughing and so did you. And only then do you realize what you had just said. "Are you serious?" she asked, frowning. You remain silent.
“Come on, Y/n, don’t act shy now! I've seen you naked, I've been inside you, inside your mouth... And apparently, I've already given you more orgasms than that virgin ever thought about giving you. There’s no need to hide from me.” Okay, she was right.
“Yes, Nat, I’m serious!” You mumble, laying your head on the back of the couch. “And that’s why you broke up with him?”
“No, he cheated on me with his secretary, a super beautiful and interesting blonde. He is a lawyer and has always known a lot of people, but I never thought he would be so low and betray me like this.”
“Wow, Y/n... I’m so sorry.” The redhead said, sincerity showing in her voice. “But I can tell you one thing: he’s a really stupid guy. How could he cheat on you? Damn, if I had a girlfriend like you... I would never have eyes for anyone else.” You look at her suddenly seeing an incredulous expression. “Stop, Natasha. Don’t start, you’re a porn actress…” you say letting out a weak laugh “So what?”
“So what if you could never have a normal relationship. Unless you found a woman who accepted your profession…
"Would you accept?" Your confused expression gave away what you were probably thinking, because the redhead continued.
“Would you accept having a “normal relationship” with me, Y/n, even though you know I’m a porn star?”
“Do you want to have a normal relationship with me?” Your eyes were so wide that your sockets could pop out at any moment. “This is all hypothetically speaking, Y/n…” Natasha replied, shrugging.
“Ah, well... No, Nat, I don't think I would. Hypothetically speaking, If I accepted, it would mean that I would continue to be “cheated” for the rest of my life, since your profession is to fuck several women every day.”
“It’s a profession like any other, Y/n. Hypothetically speaking, you wouldn’t be betrayed, you would just accept the lifestyle I lead.”
“Hypothetically and truly speaking... The answer would still be no, Nat.” She rolled her eyes and smirked when she looked at you again. “All this nonsense aside, Y/n... We can go back to what we were doing before... What do you think?”
"What do you think?"
Why resist? You are a single woman and you deserve to enjoy.
“I think that was the smartest thing to come out of your mouth since the virgin guy left, Nat.”
Natasha smiled, you too and together, you went towards your room, to finish all the madness that had started on your couch.
You enter your room with Natasha following you and you give her a few minutes to look around. There was nothing special, your room had a classic decor, very feminine… Cream walls, a double bed with a baby pink bedspread, your bedside table with some photos. Your closet wasn't too big, its door was next to the bathroom door. In front of your bed was what you liked most: your bookshelf, which was what Natasha was looking at at that moment.
“Well, well… Y/n!” Natasha looked at you with a naughty smile from ear to ear, making you look down at your copy of "Fifty Shades of Grey", which was in the redhead's hand. “So you also succumbed to that book?”
What was wrong with that? You felt like you were caught in the act while you were doing something very shameful. “You don’t have to be like this, Detka.”
“Detka? Why do you always call me that?” You repeat what had just come out of the redhead's mouth and she smiled beautifully. “Any problems with pet names?” You just shake your head a little blushing.
“This Christian Gray guy must have picked up more women than me, and I've been in this business since I was 18 years old.” Natasha shook her head and laughed. “But I confess that, since the release of this book, I must have done more than 30 BDSM-style scenes.”
"Serious?" You ask. "Yes." she turned the book over, taking a quick look at the synopsis. “And you... Do you like that kind of thing? Domination and submission?” The redhead asks, suddenly interested.
The image of Natasha with a whip in her hands made your panties wet so quickly, you thought she was combusting.
“Although it’s not really my style, I confess that I do like it. And you, Y/n? Have you ever done anything like that?” She asked, looking at you intently. “Never…” you mumble. “And are you curious?”
“Well...After this book, I think any woman will be curious. I mean, it's a very different topic, which has almost never been addressed, especially in such an explicit and…”
“Are you curious or not, Y/n?”
Natasha asks in a more authoritative tone, Or was it just your imagination? Whatever the case, your intimacy pulsed with each passing minute. "I have." you murmur, wanting to look away, but feeling unable.
Natasha had that power to bind you to her, something that no one had been able to exercise over you. She put your book back in its place and took a few steps until she was in front of you. She ran her fingertips across your face, letting her thumb caress your lower lip. You wanted to close your eyes, but you didn't. You wanted to see how far she would go.
“You're so beautiful, Y/n and telling me these things... My dick is already so hard, I would do anything to enter you right now, but I won't. Do you know what I want now, Y/n?” You shake your head, swallowing hard. “I want you to take off all your clothes and stand in front of your bed, with your feet on the floor and your hands resting on the mattress. Right?"
“Yes…” She pointed to the bed behind you with her eyebrow and you turned to go to her, but was stopped with a firm pull on your hair, which didn’t even hurt, but it was strong enough to keep you still, with your head tilted back.
"Yes what?" asked the redhead in my ear, with a stern voice. "Yes ma'am."
"Go."
She released you and took a few seconds to make your feet move towards your bed. Half a minute ago, Natasha was just Natasha, the porn star. Now you have a Dominant Natasha inside your room and the idea of obeying her has never been so exciting.
You take off your clothes quickly and get into the position she asked for. You felt vulnerable and at the same time sexy in that position, with your ass and your intimacy exposed to her.
“Open your legs wider.”
Natasha's voice echoed throughout the room, letting you know that she wasn't that close to you. You open your legs wider for her, feeling every part of my body becoming erect, as curiosity approaches your mind. What would she do to you? Where was she at that moment, what was she doing exactly?”
You wanted those answers so much, but your brain forgot each one of them when you felt Natasha's finger running straight down your spine. You wanted to squirm with that lazy and sensual movement, but the position stopped you and the only thing you did was let out a loud sigh, when Natasha's open hand slowly caressed your ass.
“Do you trust me, Y/n? I would never do anything that would hurt her, right? Remembering that everything I do is much more for your pleasure than mine. It's for our pleasure and I would never do anything other than that. You said you're curious and I'm here to make you taste whatever you want, Anything I do and you don’t like it, just say “stop” ok?”
"Yes…"
A strong slap landed right in the middle of your buttocks, making you let out a tearful moan. You would have fallen face down from the bed, if Natasha hadn't held you by the waist and held you close to her body. "Yes what?"
"Yes ma'am!" You respond in a louder tone than you intended, feeling your flesh burn and your intimacy become even more moist.
"Excellent." The redhead responded in a serious tone, showing that she was the one in charge.
You hear Romanoff's footsteps walking away, the sound of shoes falling to the floor, as well as the sound of a zipper being opened.
She was undressing and your excitement reached an even greater level due to the anticipation. You hear more and more footsteps, you think she was walking around your room until she came back to stand next to you, her erect member touching your ass.
“You know, Y/n... You've been a very bad woman since the day I met you.”
“W-What do you mean?”
Another strong, hot slap hit you, this time on your right buttock, making you let out a loud scream. God, that hurt and at the same time it made your intimacy cry out for orgasm. How was it possible?
“I don’t remember giving you permission to speak, Y/n!” the redhead said, incisively. “I’ll have to teach you some manners, girl.”
You almost open your mouth to say something, but stop immediately. The slaps excited you and that was a fact, but you also really wanted to know what Natasha had in mind and for that, you needed to stay quiet.
“Continuing, the first thing you did wrong was make me lose control. I never cum inside a woman while I'm acting… I came inside you, because you caught me in your gaze. I think you deserve punishment for that, don’t you, Y/n?” If she's talking, you must deserve it... Another slap!
Very hard on your left buttock, and damn, if you received another slap, you would melt along with the waterfall of excitement that your pussy would release. “Answer, Y/n! Every time I ask you a question, you have a duty to answer me.”
“Yes, I deserve punishment for this,ma'am”
“Yes, you deserve it. And I also deserve punishment for having cast a spell so that my dick wouldn't rise for another woman. Because that's what's happening, Y/n. I haven't had an erection for another woman since the day I fucked you. And that’s not right, is it.”
“It is not, ma'am”
“No really…” Natasha remained silent for a few minutes, running her hand over your hot, burning ass. “Ten slaps, Y/n. I will give you ten slaps because of everything you did to me. Agrees?" "Yes ma'am”
"Perfect. Why are we doing this, Y/n? Why are you bowing down and obeying me?”
“Because I wanted to know what it’s like…” first slap. Hard and fast, right in the middle of your ass.
She caresses you and you moan, rearing up for her, your body asking for more and at the same time, begging for an orgasm. “Keep talking, don’t stop!”
Second slap, on the right side, following the sequence she had started when you messed up something.
“Because I wanted to know what it was like, ma'am.” you moan receiving the third and fourth slap.
Your flesh was burning and the walls of your vagina were so tight, that you were sure that with just one touch on your clit, you would cum.
“And why are you being beaten?” Natasha asked, caressing your ass lightly.
“Why don’t you…” Fifth and sixth, the echo of the spankings filling your entire room. "You? Is that right, Y/n?
“No ma'am.” you whimper feeling your legs wobble. Your body was begging for an orgasm, for a rest, but you didn't want to stop. “Start again, why are you catching Y/n?”
“Because you can’t stay hard for any other woman, unless…” seventh and eighth, and more excitement came out of your intimacy.
She slapped you again on the buttocks and paused. You feel two kisses on your burning flesh and then came the coup de grace. The tenth and final slap, which your hot ass was waiting for, was given lower down. It hit your intimacy straight.
Your clitoris vibrated, you felt a sharp scream coming out of your throat, while your legs turned to jelly and your lower belly shook in a powerful orgasm. Jets came out of you, as you had what many called female ejaculation.
It was strong, and it seemed like it would never end. You came and screamed, while your trembling body was welcomed into Natasha's arms. Only then do you realize that you are sitting on the floor, when all the daze was gone, leaving only a tremor in your body with every movement you or Natasha made.
“Nat…” you groan, looking for something to say before you become too embarrassed to even look at her.
“Y/n, that was... Amazing! Have you ever cum like this?” She looked at you, smiling. You shake your head, placing your face on the redhead's bare chest. You hear her laugh of joy, while a smile spreads across your face.
“You don’t need to be embarrassed. As far as it depends on me, I will give you lots and lots of ejaculations.” The redhead's fingers lightly went down your breasts, starting to lightly circle your nipple. “Now I really want to fuck you.”
You feel your intimacy fluctuate, waking up the excitement that fell asleep after that intense orgasm. You bite your lip and get out of Natasha's legs, sitting on her hips and taking her member in your hand. She smiled and leaned back at the foot of your bed, while squeezing your nipple in her fingers.
“Put me inside you, Detka. Slowly, because you are still sensitive.” Natasha murmured, careful, but with eyes full of malice.
You nod and stand up a little, feeling your burning ass protest. You make a face and the older girl laughed, pulling your head to give you a breathtaking kiss. You feel her tongue wander around every corner of your mouth, as you slowly sit on her member, feeling her open space inside you with her wide head.
“Fuck, Y/n... You’re so fucking tight!” she roared against your lips, holding your hips so you sat up slowly. “And you’re fucking big!” you moan, feeling her stretch you inside, touching all your little nerves. “I like that word coming out of your mouth.” She bit your lower lip. “Roll on me, Y/n, come on.”
You obey, rolling your hips slowly, feeling her enter and enter until your pelvises meet. You moan together as you start to move, increasing the rhythm of your hips with the redhead's help. Her dick touched every corner, occupied all the places you didn't even know existed.
When just moving wasn't enough, Natasha began to push your hips up and down, making you straddle her lap. Her dick was going so deep that you could feel your lower abdomen wobble, looking for a new orgasm. “That's right, Y/n... I know that pussy is ready to cum on my dick. Cum for me, Come on.”
The redhead's name escaped your lips and your body, obeying her command once again, trembled, as you came for her. Your intimacy was still pressing her, when she got up with you on her lap and came out of you, placing you on the mattress.
“Kneel down and place your hands on the mattress, Y/n…” she murmured.
You stay in the indicated position. Pulling you by the waist, Natasha placed her penis at your entrance and slowly penetrated you, widening you again, until her pelvis hit your sensitive ass. “If it’s too much for you, let me know and I’ll change positions.”
You nod, feeling her move slowly, pulling your excitement back. You squeeze her lightly inside and you hear a moan of pleasure coming out of her, and one of surprise came from inside you, when I felt her thumb surround your anus.
“Your ass is so beautiful, Y/n. One day, I'll be inside it. I promise to you." Natasha murmured, still moving slowly inside you. “Let me know if this is too much for you too.”
You were about to ask what could be too much for you, when you felt her wet thumb, probably from her saliva, force its way into your anus and lightly penetrate you.
A moan of satisfaction escaped your lips when she synchronized the movement of her finger with the movement of her penis inside you, increasing and increasing more and more.
Her dick hit you full on with force and precision, as did Natasha's finger in your ass and it was all too much for you. You feel your intimacy tighten again and Natasha increased her movements even more, showing that she was also ready to cum. “What a greedy cunt, Y/n! Come on, I’m dying to fill her with my cum”
Hearing all that made your excitement increase to such an alarming level that the last thing you thought about before cumming was whether you would be able to be a normal person after that night.
Romanoff screamed and so did you, as you came together, her cum entering you more and more, while your body suffered from the spasms that the orgasm was causing.
When you both calmed down, Natasha gently pulled out of you and threw herself on the bed next to you, breathing as fast as you.
“Tell me you’re not going back with him” Natasha suddenly looks at you seriously. "What?"
“Tell me you’re not going back with him and I’ll know I have a chance, I can make you happier than him Y/n. I'm completely fascinated by you.” You just smile feeling numb from all this information.
“I’m not going back with him, Nat, because I’m fascinated by you too.”
A bright and satisfied smile spread across her lips, reflecting your expression, before she approached you and sealed all that madness with a sweet kiss, making you think that… Maybe signing that contract wasn't all bad.
#natasha romanoff#marvel cinematic universe#black widow#black widow x reader#natasha marvel#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha x y/n#natasha x you#natasha x reader#gp natasha romanoff
561 notes
·
View notes
Note
me begging rafe to actually cum inside since it’s mother’s day🤗🤗i just wanna be a mommy sigh
୨୧⸝⸝ 🩰﹕
things had been going really well for rafe lately, business wise. he’d been making a shit tonne of money, he’d been going on trips, making new connections — finally becoming the man he wanted to be and it showed from his attitude. all that rage and insecurity he once had was slowly but surely melting away, making you so glad that you stuck around for the long run.
you’d decided you’d wanted more right then and there on the spot at the end of the week when he was fucking you through the mattress. you’re moaning, near tears — elated by the successful deal he just made. his mouth his open against your jaw, pressing wet kisses there whilst you weakly drag your manicured fingernails across his buzzed hair. your bleary eyes flicker open through sticky eyelashes and stare at the ceiling, overstimulated creamy pussy just sucking him in, driving him closer and closer to his finish line.
“c’mon.” he mutters, barely audibly to himself as he picks up the pace — thick biceps lifting him just a little so he could look down at the way he was milking you.
you don’t think, you simply connect your ankles at his lower back and lock him in. “come inside. please.” you whisper all in one exhale, making his glossy eyes flicker up to you. he huffs through already parted lips, gaze intense.
“huh?”
his pace doesn’t slow, and you roll your hips from your position on your back, trying to squeeze it out of him, clenching hard. “please daddy, fuck it into me. wan’it all. wanna be a mommy.” you whine through shuddered breath and blobs of tears.
he licks his lips, freezing inside you once he was pressed in to the hilt. “you serious? huh? y’wanna get knocked up? right now? ‘cos — because once you say yes there’s no turning back from that, right?” he’s dead serious, honing in all his focus to sus you out.
you nod, hair rustling against the pillow and your arms reaching to his hips trying to get him to move again. maybe you wanted it for sure, maybe it was just horny talk, you didn’t know — and didn’t care, you just knew you needed it now before you could talk yourself out of it.
“please rafe, fill me up.”
you were shocked how little movement it took for him to bust inside you, hot spurts filling you until it leaked out your fluttering hole, no more room for it inside. you realise only then that rafe had thought of this before, because the second you were totally full he was pulling out and forcing your thighs up to your chest, damn near pushing your knees into your shoulders so your cunt faced the ceiling, not a drop of it escaping.
“s’gonna take, alright? i know it. gonna give you a fuckin’ baby.”
୨୧⸝⸝ 🩰﹕
755 notes
·
View notes
Note
im im the mood of angst, what about yorozu (the bitchass from loser gf reader cool bf sukuna series) comes up to reader and decided that reader isn’t good enuf for sukuna and bully her. angst and fluff please :3
𝝑𝝔 an: i hope u likeee thissss :>> sorry for it being almost a week late heh. read more here!!
“i don’t know what he finds in you.”
you hear as soon as you come out of the toilet cabin, stilling as if slapped in the face with the revelation. yorozu gave you a once over before going to the sink to lean against with arms crossed over her chest. it’s probably evident from your constrained movements and the blood drained from your face, but you’re quite nervous now that you’re alone with her.
you ignore her words and repeat her steps, going to the sink to wash your hands. you try not to look at her, yet can’t stop yourself from eyeing her warily.
“you’re a nobody, y’know? not a match for him.”
you squeeze some soap into your hands, roughly scrubbing them together, while she takes a step closer to you. as much as you try not to let her words get into your head — it’s hard to face the fact that she somehow knows how your insecurities get to you and she is using them against you right now.
you continue focusing on your breathing and shake the excess water from your hands, looking around for paper towels. your silence seem to tick her off, you can tell, and a small barely evolved petty side of you wants to say some things back to her but you just can’t.
yorozu observes you silently and steps closer, but you’re already on your way to leave, shoving her shoulder unintentionally as you almost sprint out of the bathroom.
she is quick though, running ahead of you to stop you. her exquisitely decorated eyes look down on you, her indifference and satisfaction changing to anger and annoyance. long sharp nails dig into your upper arm, making hiss and stop in your place. with her free hand, she twirls a strand of your hair around her finger.
“you think you’re better than me, don’t you?” she smiles cruelly, her eyes wide, passionately burning with disgust. you feel your defence getting weaker, tears welling in your eyes as you try to get away from her once more. she’s relentless. “he’s gonna fucking leave you, doesn’t matter for me or for anyone—”
“who the fuck do you think you are?”
sukuna.
his figure appears behind her; face distorted in anger as he furiously paces over to you both, suguru running after him hurriedly.
blood drains from yorozu’s face as she lets you go abruptly and makes a run for it, but sukuna is quick to appear in front of her.
“i say don’t come up to me and you go to my girlfriend? are you that fuckin’ dumb?”
you don’t think you’ve ever seen sukuna this furious. and yorozu this scared. it’s a good thing that suguru is also here, clearly aware that some bad things might happen if sukuna isn’t held back properly. he almost lunges at her, but the long-haired male makes it in time to jump in front of him with a worried yet stern expression.
“i’ll deal with her, go talk with your girl.”
“no—”
“sukuna.”
one look at you over suguru’s shoulder makes him let go of his anger. giving yorozu one last murderous glare, sukuna breathes out and pushes the long-haired male to the side to stride over to you instead. you look so pitifully small and meek that sukuna wants to turn around and go wipe the floor with yorozu’s face.
“baby?” he approaches you carefully, putting his palm on top of your head to stroke it gently and make you look at him.
surprisingly, you are not crying, at least, not as much as he thought he’d see you because he is sure yorozu was running her mouth with no fear or anything. you sniffle continuously, roughly rubbing your eyes with the heels of your palms.
sukuna leans down, his worried gaze scanning over your covered face as he patiently waits for you to put yourself together like the smart girl you are, “whatever the fuck she said, you don’t listen to her, alright?”
you finally put your hands down and let out a heavy sigh, staring up at him with bloodshot eyes and a small smile. arms wrapping around his middle, you pull him in for a tight hug and bury your face in his chest. slightly confused and a little wide-eyed, he stares down at you, hugging you back.
“i don’t care what she says, ‘kuna.”
ah, that’s what it is, he finally realises as his face breaks into a soft smile.
“good girl.”
#— miya writes!#ngl i love using geto as a moral compass he is so nice hehehhe#also we love angry sukuna#sukuna jujutsu kaisen#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna x you#jjk sukuna#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen#cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#ryomen sukuna x you
896 notes
·
View notes
Text
Somethin’ Unholy (sexclubowner!hxengaged!yn)
prompt: YN and Arthur have to adjust their arrangement. The first scene leaves YN hopeless and wondering if she should even come back to the club.
word count: 9.7k+
warnings: emotional infidelity (kinda, it’s complicated), d/s dynamics, mean Harry
author’s note: next part is posted on patreon & continuing to be updated this week💕 this is the last part that will be posted on tumblr.
to get access to the rest of this trope as well as 350+ other exclusive writings - you can join for $3USD! -> HERE <-
PART ONEk
+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•
YN isn’t above this.
Actually, this is exactly where she wants to be.
Her arms are akin to jello as she slowly starts to move across the floor, the hardwood was rough on her knees, and she had to complain.
YN sits back on her heels, eyes sparkling and challenging, she was going to make Harry prove himself as a good dominant.
Harry raises an eyebrow, questioning but unmoving from where he stands.
“Hurts my knees, sir,” YN tells him, the ‘sir’ was patronizing and not obedient in the way it was intended to be used when he demanded it from her.
“The funny thing is…” Harry tilts his head, eyes tracing over every inch of her, “I didn’t fucking ask if it hurt. Crawl to me now.”
YN huffs, putting her palms flat again and moving towards him.
“Slower. Move slower. I really want you to feel that ache you were bitching about in your knees,” Harry tells her, his voice was so calm and monotone that it was making her want to get him mad.
YN does as he says but to the extreme, going so entirely slow that she’s barely moving any bit forward.
Her face is towards the floor and suddenly, there is a pair of leather boots in her line of vision, standing in front of her.
A hand weaves into her hair, twirling the strands between slender fingers, and pulling upwards without mercy.
YN lets out a high-pitched squeak at the pain prickling on her scalp, forcing her neck to tilt upwards to look at Harry who’s now squatting in front of her.
“Is that too rough?” Arthur echos from behind her.
YN shouldn’t feel annoyance, this is a learning experience for both of them but she wants him to just sit there quietly.
The way Harry looks up towards Arthur was downright terrifying.
A sharp, mean smile spreads wide enough on Harry’s face that his dimples pop in both of his cheeks, and then he tugs her hair until her head is turned a an uncomfortable angle, looking towards her fiancé.
“S’it too rough for the lil’ angel?” Harry asks in a mocking tone, his grip hasn’t relented and YN had missed this type of pain so much she could cry.
“N-no, it’s good,” YN manages to get out between clenched teeth before focusing her eyes back on Harry.
She didn’t want to remember that Arthur was here.
“It’s good, sir,” Harry lets his blunt fingernails tease at her scalp, “You’re being so awful already. It’s making it hard for me to want to play with you.”
If YN wasn’t in a headspace like this, she could logically identify that he was saying this to get under her skin, making her insecure.
But because her rational thinking isn’t as present as it normally is, it makes her chest ache, and her voice sounds small when she says, “I’ll be good, sir.”
Harry’s laugh is loud enough that she jumps, his hand loosens and unweaves from her hair as she blinks up at him.
He was ethereal under the dim light, all of his sharp features were defined, like they were from renaissance times, and he’d be unreal but YN was witnessing him with her own eyes.
“Did that spark a nerve, pet?” He teases as he stands up, leaving her on hands and knees.
YN only folds her lips inward, refusing to give him an answer because she wanted to get the biggest reaction possibly out of him.
When he realizes that she’s not going to reply, he runs his tongue over his teeth, “Right now, I wish you were really my sub. This would end so fuckin’ poorly for such a defiant slut.”
“Whoa, I don’t know if you should call her that,” Arthur interrupts with an affronted tone, like he’s trying to stand up for YN.
YN feels the irritation of his interrupting itching at the back of her teeth, she wanted him to just sit there and stop.
YN doesn’t realize that she lets out a spoiled noise of impatience, of annoyance at her fiancé.
It causes Harry to take a step forward, lightly pressing the bottom sole of his shoe on her splayed fingers, warning.
“This is a learning experience,” Harry scolds her, pressing down just enough to add pressure on her knuckles, “ He’s allowed to ask questions and voice limits. If you have an issue with that, there is no purpose to this session. Understood?”
“Yes sir,” YN replies quietly because she did not want this session to end.
It had only just begun and she felt such a spark that had never been there before.
This was visceral, different than any experience that she had had with Klein before they broke up.
The atmosphere, the way that Harry held himself with such knowledge and confidence was unmatched.
“Good girl,” Harry murmurs lowly, almost as if he didn’t want Arthur to hear, and he moves his boot away from her fingers.
The praise felt fucking addictive.
She wanted more of it.
But at the same time, she wanted to create mayhem too.
“Is that a limit for you? Yellow?” Harry asks Arthur, checking in like a responsible dom would do during a lesson.
YN hated that it took his attention away from her.
“Er, not necessarily. I’m…this is all just new. I didn’t know whether she liked being called that or not is all,” Arthur trails off unsurely but he doesn’t sound like he’s distressed, he definitely is a mixture of curiosity and arousal.
He liked this.
“Arthur,” Harry replies in a conversational tone, he nudges his foot against YN to signal her to stand up, “You will learn that it doesn’t matter what YN likes because she likes to be disobedient and insubordinate. It only matters if she uses her colors. If she doesn’t like something enough to stop, she will either use ‘yellow’ or ‘red’.”
YN stands, feeling awkward in how overdressed she is as Harry provides education to her fiance, this was such a weird situation, and she wanted Arthur to stop bringing her out of her floaty headspace.
“Right, slut?” Harry smirks wickedly, he stands with his hands behind his back, and pointedly not trying to touch her in any way.
She could tell that in this weird dynamic, Harry was trying to be respectful that he was instructing and not taking ownership of her as her dominant, despite her body screaming at him that that is exactly what she wants from him.
“Yes,” YN agrees, purposely leaving out the ‘sir’.
The smile drops from his face, he had thought he’d broken her, and it wasn’t that easy by just some hair-pulling and name-calling, it would take so much more, and he would learn her threshold for pain tolerances is high.
Harry’s lips press into a firm line and he steps forward, grip firm on her wrist as he jerks her forward, making her stumble into his chest, and he whispers into her ear, “God, if you were mine you would be broken.”
It was only loud enough for YN to hear.
But he takes a step back, letting go of her wrist, and an odd emotion she can’t read crosses his face before he announces to them both, “This is an instructional session as I’ve stated before. That was an example of power play but now I will move onto the next portion of learning.”
And something has switched, YN doesn’t know how to put her finger on it but Harry had suddenly become more formal with her.
More of a teacher, less of a dominant like how he was acting in the beginning.
She wanted the latter to come back out, a hollowness started in her chest when he walked away from her to sit down on a tufted leather bench, and a completely uninterested expression on his face.
“Strip down to your bra and underwear,” Harry replies in almost a robotic tone, none of the teasing and lift was there anymore.
YN is shaky as she rids herself off her trousers, the structured corset bodysuit she had put on, and she was down to her strapless bra and seamless thong.
YN wasn’t self-conscious, she loved her body and was proud to show it off but there was something about Harry’s demeanor that made an inkling of self-doubt creep in as she stood in the middle of the room where he had left him.
When she subconsciously goes to wrap her arm around her chest, as if to give herself any type of modesty, Harry clicks his tongue at her and shakes her head.
Without having to speak, YN puts her arm back down at her side and takes a deep breath, shaky on the exhale.
“Ask to come lay on my lap,” Harry tells her calmly, his legs spread enough to be obscene, a hand resting suggestively on his inner thigh, much too close to his groin to be appropriate in any other setting.
“May I come sit on your lap, sir,” YN repeats as steadily as possible, she wanted to be good, and she wanted to earn his interest back.
Harry is surprised by her compliance, definitely not expecting her to follow his instructions without a fight.
“Come here, now,” His voice is tighter, lip between his teeth as he watches her carefully.
“Ho-how, sir?” YN swallows because she doesn’t want to get scolded again.
“How do you walk? That's a silly question, are you a dumb pup?” Harry asks as if she just asked the most outlandish question ever, “Walk with your two feet unless that’s too much brainpower for you, pet.”
“YN,” Arthur speaks from behind her, still sitting but YN’s back is turned to him.
She knows she should look, this is a lesson for them, to learn how to do this, to model the play, to communicate better.
She knows they’re here as a couple and Harry is simply an instructor.
But she doesn't want to turn to look at him.
YN keeps her eyes on Harry, in an almost pleading to have him help, to speak to Arthur for her because her fiance kept dragging her out of the fuzzy headspace she was desperately trying to sink into.
Harry doesn’t let anything show if he’s annoyed by Arthur.
He probably isn’t because this is a lesson for him, he isn’t really playing.
YN was and that was the issue.
“Yea-yeah?” YN manages to reply after blinking a few times, almost like snapping out of a trance, and she turns to make eye contact with her partner.
Arthur was visibly flushed, his hand was strategically placed over his lap to hide what YN is guessing is evidence that this situation is turning him on, even though he doesn’t need to hide that because that’s mostly the point of all this.
“Is…Um, color? I just didn’t know you liked being talked to that way or…ordered around like that…” Arthur still doesn’t sound upset or necessarily bothered by the revelation, just maybe a bit surprised.
“Green. I like it,” YN nods because she wants to snap at him, tell him that she’s been trying to communicate that she likes this for ages and he hasn’t caught on whatsoever, but she doesn’t want to ruin the scene so she simplifies it down to that.
“Ask him his color,” Harry reminds her from behind, “You need to check in with him too.”
I don’t want to check-in with him.
“What’s your color?” YN tries to keep interests in her tone but these interactions with Arthur are taking any semblance of an actual scene out of her mind which she knows that wasn’t the goal but she had made it her own at some point when this started.
“Green. You look amazing right now and I -,” Arthur smiles so sweetly at her, genuine and honest.
It makes her feel guilty.
YN was pretty sure in this moment that Arthur would never have the ability to be mean to her in the way she needs, in the way that Harry can provide, and that leaves her with a sinking feeling.
“Get your ass over here now,” Harry cuts Arthur off mid-sentence, irritation finally settling in on his features.
YN walks as gracefully as she can over to him, standing between his spread legs, and he reaches out to run his fingertips over the curve of her hip.
It’s surprisingly gentle until he pinches her, enough to sting, and says, “Kneel.”
YN obliges, her knees were already going to be bruised from the hardfloor beneath her but by this point, she was welcoming the aches that were going to last for days after, to remind her of Harry.
“Let’s keep simple today, shall we?” Harry asks her as he runs his open palm across her collarbone, getting closer to her chest.
Right now, she’s blatantly aware that they haven’t done anything inherently sexual which she be lying if she said that it’s not clawing at the pits of arousal in her stomach.
YN doesn’t know if she’s ever been as attracted to someone sexually as she was with Harry.
She knew these instructional sessions weren’t for his pleasure but fuck, she wishes that she got to see him in action - real, in scene action, not this only sliver of what he actually has to offer.
YN nods in response to him, trying to be on her best behavior because her disobedience really hadn’t made him more prone to play with her further than teaching.
“Open,” Harry commands as he withdraws his fingers, thumb now moving to tug on her bottom lip sharply as she complies.
As soon as it was, he pressed down on her tongue, with enough pressure that she had to swallow harshly not to gag.
Harry laughs as he watches her, never taking his eyes off of her, “You can’t even handle my thumb but you want to have the attitude of a girl who can take me all the way down their throat.”
YN can’t speak, can’t tell him that she can and she can show him.
Instead, her brattiness that she’d been trying to tamper down flares right back up as she sinks her teeth into the skin of his hand in a clear way to convey she didn’t like what he had just said.
It takes Harry by surprise, his features twitching just the slightest before he’s steadying them again, and pushes down further on her tongue until she actually does gag.
Before he’s pulling his spit-soaked thumb out and dragging it across her cheek, surely smearing the meticulously applied foundation and bronzer.
There’s a conflict, YN can tell Harry is debating on what his next course of action is and he seems to be arguing with himself internally before he’s gripping her jaw and making their eyes meet.
“Cut the brat shit. I’m not your dom, this is a lesson. Stop getting so far into it. Save it for your fiance,” Harry’s voice is cold, mean but not in a teasing way, almost a dismissive way and it doesn’t feel like they’re playing anymore.
It seems like he’s actually scolding her even though she sure he probably just thinks he’s giving her a reminder so that there’s no hard feelings between her and Arthur after this but it felt like a knife in her chest.
YN feels any of the feistiness leave her body, it would probably be a responsible time to use her colors, and let him know that she’s bordering on ‘yellow’ because she realizes she’s misinterpreting this whole scene.
He was never going to get into the full headspace with her.
Of course, he wasn’t.
This was fully for teaching.
And YN was trying to fall into her subspace that she would with her actual dom.
But the text messages, in particular, made her confused.
Why would he have goaded her over text like that?
“Let’s get this over with,” Harry presses his tongue to his cheek, looking frustrated as he signals for YN to stand right back up.
“Alright, I’m going to demonstrate how to properly spank. We’ll do five, alright?” Harry tells her as he reaches for her wrist, tugging her until he can position her over his lap, face-down.
But you said fifteen in the text.
Harry is now talking to Arthur directly as he lands the smacks, informing him on the proper amount of pressure, placement, repetition, and timing that all make a difference to how the scene goes.
YN can’t even focus on the words, her fingertips gripping at the leather bench in front of her, and the hits weren’t hard, they barely stung but she felt disappointment at this whole experience sink into her bones.
After the five, Harry pulls her into a sitting position next to him before standing up.
“No comment then? Want to be a brat the whole time but when you actually get a spanking, you’re dead silent?” Harry questions, hands on his hips, and he just overall seemed…unhappy.
“I wouldn’t call that a spanking,” YN scoffs in annoyance but it no longer had any playfulness in it, “Is this scene done? I’m ready to go.”
Arthur is oblivious to the intense tension between the two, standing up and straightening out his trousers, wiping the legs off, and smiling widely, “That was pretty awesome. I liked it more than I thought.”
YN embarrassingly enough feels like crying.
“Arthur,” Harry’s eyes haven’t left YN’s, “Can you leave YN and I for a second? To discuss before you head out.”
“Absolutely, I’ll be at the bar,” Arthur agrees easily, trusting as he excuses himself from the room with a kiss to YN’s cheek.
YN moves to pick up her clothes, bunching them in her arms, and refusing to acknowledge Harry’s existence as she lays them out of the bench to try to organize them in order to put them back on.
“Look at me.”
YN refuses, shaking her head, and clutching her shirt in her fist.
She felt embarrassed, let down, disappointed.
YN doesn’t hear Harry move but jumps when his hand snakes around her waist, physically turning her around to face him, and god, why the fuck are there tears streaming down her face right now?
“Why are you crying?” Harry asks bluntly, his hand leaves her hip and that makes the tears fall harder.
She’s crying over a fucking stranger who sent her a few flirty messages.
“It doesn’t matter,” YN tries to keep her gaze on her feet but the finger under her chin doesn’t allow it.
“It does matter,” Harry argues, exasperation through each word.
“I…It just wasn’t what I expected,” YN replies honestly because Harry can see straight through her lies anyways, “I’m just disappointed but that’s on me for my expectations, it’s not your nor Arthur’s fault.”
“What were your expectations?” Harry seems hesitant to ask like they both know that the honest answer isn’t appropriate for YN being in a relationship, engaged to be married type of commitment.
YN squeezes her eyes shut, the words are stuck in her throat until his hand comes back to her hip, very cautiously rubbing a circle on her hip, “I…I know you made it very clear that this was instructional. It’s not your fault for my expectations. I just….wanted….I just wanted a scene with you. A real scene.”
“You should want that with your fiance,” Harry sighs as watches her, voice low, “You should want to do a scene with him, not me.”
“I get that you don’t want that with me, that’s okay-”
“I didn’t fucking say that, did I?” Harry cuts her off, a defensiveness that she hadn’t heard before in his tone, his thumb pressing in a bit harder to her hip, pressing against the bone and purposefully.
“It seemed like there were a few moments in the scene where you were into it but then…you went back to…” YN trails off because she doesn’t know the best way to put it into words.
“I went back to teaching because I shouldn’t have let myself get like that in the first place,” Harry bites out, his lip twitching as it furls downward, “It was unprofessional. This was strictly educational.”
“Do you often get lost for a moment in the scene when you’re doing instruction?” YN asks timidly, unsure of whether she wants to know the answer and if she’s trying to make this more special than it was to him.
“Never has happened before,” Harry tells her, his gaze unfaltering, “I’ve never struggled not to fall into an instructional scene before tonight.”
“This isn’t in my head,” YN swallows, feeling a bit braver in what she believes, “There is…a compatibility between the two of this. In this setting.”
“Be that as it may, it doesn’t matter,” Harry’s words are tight, strained, “You are in a relationship, working on these issues between the two of you. So that Arthur can provide you with what you want.”
“Tell me honestly, sir,” YN lets the name roll off her tongue thickly, smiling to herself when his hand squeezes at her again, pressing and pressing into her skin, “Do you think that Arthur will be able to tame me? You can’t even do it.”
Finally, that familiar wicked smile spread over his tense features, his eyes twinkling under the dim light.
Because just like her, he loves a challenge.
“I could break you, over and over,” Harry steps further into her space, she was suddenly very aware of how undressed she was in comparison to him, “Make you into the sweetest little sub that I would never get sick of using.”
“That-that doesn’t answer my question,” YN’s breath was picking up, he could tell, and he moves to cup the side of her neck, thumb laying over her pulse point.
“The question of whether Arthur will be able to learn how to handle you? In the way you need?” Harry clarifies as his eyes dart down to watch the way his fingertips dimple the skin underneath them.
YN nods.
“You and I both know the answer to that,” Harry scoffs with a shake of his head, the smiling fading a bit, “No, I do not think your fiance will be able to give you what you need. He doesn’t seem like the type to suddenly be able to dom.”
YN wants to kiss him, drop her kneels in front of him, beg him for anything he’s willing to give her.
And yet, she’s engaged.
The ring had never felt good on her finger but right now, it felt like a fucking trapped life sentence.
Harry moves to take a step back which has YN reaching out to grip her wrist, “Please.”
He lets her hold him but sighs, “We probably shouldn’t do another lesson together. I don’t think that I can do another scene with you acting like such a fuckin’….a brat and try to keep it as a learning experience. I can set you two up with another instructor-”
“Why didn’t you set us up with a different instructor in the first place?” YN throws the question at him, “Raven said you didn’t play here anymore or teach. But you-”
“You know why,” Harry cuts her off, not willing to lay it out any clearer for her, “You know why and I can admit it was a bad idea. I should have thought it through and I shouldn’t have offered myself.”
“It’s because you want me,” YN lets a smile creep onto her face, arrogance filtering throug her veins and she takes his hand, bringing it to her hip once again, “You wanted to play with me. You wanted a chance-”
“And I shouldn’t have given into it,” Harry won’t let her finish a sentence, “I know from your paperwork that you aren’t in an open relationship. You need to go the fuck out there to your fiance and forget about this.”
YN doesn’t like that answer.
Of course she doesn’t.
But he’s absolutely right.
What she was doing was borderline cheating, by just engaging in their conversations that she wouldn’t have had if Arthur was in the room with them.
YN had never once thought about cheating on Arthur or any of her partner’s in the past.
She judged people who cheated on their signficant others.
And now all she can think about is how much she wants Harry.
She was royally fucked and she knows it.
“Fine,” YN bites back, her guard completely up and she turns her back to him.
She can sense his hesitation before he’s cursing under his breathe and slamming the door on his way out.
++
They don’t talk about the lesson.
Not on the way home, not before bed, not the next day.
Arthur doesn’t try to initiate any type of power play when they have sex that night when they get home from playing.
YN doesn’t see a world where they’re going to go back to The Body Factory because the lack of interest from Arthur about domming was blatantly obvious in his actions following their arrival home.
YN notices Arthur being much more distant after that night, just for the following few days as he was much more quiet, reserved than he normally was, and overall seemed lost in his thoughts.
She starts to worry that this all was just such a poor idea, for both of them.
“What is going on?” YN finally asks one night while they sit at the dinner table, across from each other in silence leading up to this, “You’ve barely spoken to me all week. If it’s about what happened on Saturday night, just say it.”
Arthur puts down his fork and knife, wiping his mouth with his napkine before sighing, “I’m sorry, sweetie pie. There’s just been…a lot on my mind and a lot to process after this weekend.”
“You could have just talked to me about it. I thought we were supposed to have positive communication about all of this while we figured it out,” YN lets her fork clatter loudly, showing her irritation but to be fair, she was much more on edge later than normal.
“You’re right,” Arthur agrees, his expression is soft and apologetic like it always was, never wanting to argue, “I…I needed to figure some things out for myself and kind of…process. I worry that I’m going to upset you with what I want to talk about and I guess I was just trying to find the right time.”
YN braces herself for what she knows is coming, they’re not going back to that club, she’ll never see Harry again.
“Just say it, Arthur,” YN sighs, rubbing a hand over her eyes and she knows her shoulders have slumped slightly.
There’s a pause.
“I dont think I can be what you need, in terms of dominant,” Arthur’s voice is cautious, “But I discovered that I, uh, I liked watching you with Harry. Like….I really enjoyed it and have been thinking about it a lot.”
YN’s eyebrows raise to the ceiling.
That was not how she expected this conversation to go.
++
Harry asks YN and Arthur to come into the club on a weekday night to discuss what they are asking from him.
They weren’t able to get a hold of them and the secretary was able to set up an appointment to talk about their membership.
YN and Arthur are sat in his office, dark with the green undertones accented throughout the room, matte and deep oak wood.
The door opens behind them, YN feels herself tense and Arthur must feel it too because he gives her a reassuring squeeze on the hand he’s holding of hers.
“If you’re here to cancel your membership, you’re still charge for the entirety of the year. You already signed a contractual agreement,” Harry’s voice is disinterested, dull as he rounds his desk and sits down in front of them.
“No, that’s not why we asked for a meeting,” Arthur is a bit flustered, eyes darting away like he can’t quite look directly at Harry.
“I’m not interested in doing instructional sessions. It wasn’t a good match and I offered you other educators we have here.”
YN feels like it’s purposeful that Harry hasn’t made eye contact with her once when he typical couldn’t take his gaze off of her.
Arthur’s hand is clammy on hers, making her want to pull away but she was in all honesty feeling the nerves of this meeting too.
She didn’t know how she would handle a rejection from Harry.
Even though she knew there was a much higher likelihood that he would reject the proposition than accept.
Raven had given Arthur a bit of information last weekend when YN and Harry were along in in play room still.
She had told Arthur that Harry hadn’t had a sub in the eight years that he hadn’t played at his own club.
Raven wouldn’t disclose what happened that made him stop partcipating and only faciliating, as it obvious didn’t take his interest out of this world or his ability to be a good dominate.
This was a shot in the dark.
”I am busy. Let’s speed this up,” Harry makes a point of glancing down at the very-expensive looking gold watch on his wrist as if he has a meeting with the queen after this.
”Of course, my apologizes,” Arthur instantly responds, submissive without even realizing it, something that makes YN’s skin crawl, “After the instructional session last week. My fiancée and I discussed our thoughts and where we wanted to go from there.”
Harry just blinks at him, heavily like he’s losing interest.
”And er, I definitely realized that I don’t have the capacity to be what YN needs in that aspect nor is it really my interest. However, seeing YN act like….”
”A spoiled brat?” Harry fills in, running his tongue over the front of his teeth.
He was so intimidating, just by the way he held himself, shoulders broad, head held high to show off the defineition of his jawline, and his faux calm demeanor like nothing in this world bothers him.
Artuhur chuckles, squeezing YN’s hand again, “I was going to say that she was acting so differently, free, and yes, bratty. It was unlike anything I’ve seen from her before and I do not want to be the one to dull that light for her. However, I still want to experience it with her…from more of a onlooker perspective like last week.”
Again, cue a twitch of guilt because Arthur was a good guy and he cared about YN very much but it didn’t stop her from the craving for something from Harry as it should.
”There are plenty of open doms here or doms that will have more than one sub at a time,” Harry’s teeth are gritted now, it was subtle but YN notices that way his fingers are gripping a pen in his hand.
”That’s not what YN is interested in,” Arthur’s has seemed to calm down a little bit, his voice more conversational, “We talked about it extensively and the reason we are here is because we would specifically like you to consider being YN’s dominant. It’s something we’ve both discussed and both feel comfortable with. If it is something that you would think about.”
Harry cannot hide the surprise, his eyebrow raises before he’s steeling his expression again, giving Arthur a bored blink, and he doesn’t respond right away.
YN just wants him to fucking look at her.
“You put clearly in your paperwork that you are not interested in other partners,” Harry settles on stating after leaning back in his chair, hand dragging through his curls.
”Well, I discovered uh…” Arthur starts to become flush.
”It’s fine, Art,” YN finally says, patting his knee, “Everyone has something there. This is literally the place for it. What you like isn’t unusual.”
“I like watching YN with someone else,” Arthur admits, looking down at his hands and trying not to become even more embarrassed, “And I feel comfortable with her being with you. I trust that you would take good care of her but also give her what I cannot.”
Harry narrows his eyes, “You realize what you saw this past weekend was nothing in comparison to what actual scenes look like, right? You’re agreeing that you're open to me doing whatever I please with her, break her, and it won’t be pretty much of the time. At least to the outside onlooker…”
”I know, I’ve done my research recently,” Arthur nods, he starts twisting his wrists between his other fingers as he always did in an anxious habit.
”I cannot give you an answer tonight. It’s something that I will have to think about,” Harry decides, sitting up straighter and tugging at his suit jacket to adjust it.
”Are you going to even acknowledge my existence tonight?” YN blurts out because she cannot take it anymore, he won’t even make eye contact with her, and she knows it's purposeful.
“Did the kitty need attention? Can’t go a minute without it, huh?” Harry chuckles as he slowly rolls his gaze over to her, eyes finally glancing up and down her body before meeting her stare once again.
YN bites her lip, refusing to give into his teasing if this isn’t going to have the end result she wants because the fire building in her belly is already back with a vengeance.
“I just think you’re being rude,” YN shrugs defiantly, crossing her leg over the other and bouncing it like she was impatient to leave, giving him a reminder that he does want to play with her - he’s said it himself.
That fucking smile spreads on his face.
The one when he’s challenged and he knows he’s going to win.
”I think you’re being a greedy slut but I wasn’t going to say anything,” Harry’s voice sounds curiously fond, enamored by her, and it makes her preen at the unspoken praise of his reaction.
YN scowls but when Arthur touches her bouncing leg, it drags her out of any floatiness that she was going to drift to, and it was probably for the best anyways in this moment.
“I’ll have an answer for you by tomorrow,” Harry tells them, standing up and motioning towards the door, and Arthur thanks him more than once before starting to trail out.
As Arthur starts to head down the hallway, a hand reaches out and wraps around her wrist, stopping her for a moment, and causing her to look back at the person who grabbed it.
Harry’s eyes are back to the intensed, lock-in almost predatory stare.
”Do you think this is a good idea?” Harry asks quietly, so even though her fiancé is oblivious, he doesn’t hear.
”I can’t think of a better one,” YN responds honestly, “If I’m being selfish, yes. This is a good idea.”
“And if you’re actually thinking about your fiancé?” Harry prompts, eyebrow raised and truly questioning her.
”He liked watching,” YN acts like she doesn’t know what the underlying question that he’s asking is, “I think this is a good idea for both of us. We’re adults who are consenting and both talked this through at lengths.”
Harry nods, lip tucked under his teeth, worrying it until it’s puffy.
YN feels a pit of despair at his reaction, it didn’t seem positive, and it doesn’t seem like this is something he will agree to which he has every right to do but the feelings must flash across YN’s face.
”Hey,” Harry’s voice is softer, his thumb comes up to tug at her bottom lip, “Everything will be fine, okay? I’ll reach out tomorrow.”
”Okay,” YN sighs, leaning into his touch more than she hold because it was definetly inappropriate, “Just…please think about it.”
Harry nods, letting her go, and starting to close the door.
YN can’t be one hundred percent certain but she’s nearly confident that she heard Harry mutter something under his breath as he closed the door that sure sounded a lot like…
”Don’t think I’ll ever be able to say no to you. M’fucked.”
++
YN checks her phone all day during work.
Nothing from Harry.
It makes her even more anxious when she gets a text from Arthur saying that Harry reached out to him and would like to meet privately that night.
YN patiently waits for her confirmation of whether he’s on board or not but the text doesn’t come in until after Arthur’s stopped at the club after work and they talked.
YN realizes that it was all very intentional when at right near midnight sends a simple text.
Harry [11:59PM]: After talking to your fiancé, I’ve decided that I will agree to be your dominant. However, that is contingent on how our meeting goes.
Harry [12:00 AM]: When your shift is done tonight, meet me at the club. We will need to have a meeting to establish further boundaries, limits, and expectations.
Harry [12:01 AM]: Understood?
YN is tired and insanely happy which makes her feel rather pliant and sweet.
YN [12:03 AM]: Yes sir.
Harry [12:08 AM]: Good girl for me already? Get some rest, kitty. I will see you tomorrow.
YN sleeps like a fucking baby.
++
The club is surprisingly busy for a Thursday night.
YN’s shift was in the evening and when she walked into the club, there were people playing in the free play area - very much already into their scenes.
YN knew she didn’t look her absolute best.
She had changed out of her scrubs, into a flowy dress that had been easy to throw on, and purposefully forgoing a bra.
YN had taken her hair out of her claw clip, smudged on some tinted lip balm, and swiped on a coat of mascara hurriedly in the hospital locker room before making her way here.
It had been all she could think about all day and now that she’s in the darken, moody atmosphere it was feeling very real.
YN doesn’t see Harry monitoring the free play from his usual spot, in fact, he’s not in the main room at all.
YN decides to go over to the bar, always in the mood for a Shirley temple, reminding her of her childhood a bit.
Raven was there, as always, looking radiant and unbothered as she greets her happily, “Hey! It’s so great to see you again. I wasn’t sure if I was after last week's session. I swear Harry had been in an awful mood after that and it only got better once you and Arthur came in for a meeting.”
That was…interesting.
“Did he say anything?” YN can’t help but ask.
“Uh,” Raven’s eyes dart to the side, shifty and avoidant.
“No, no worries,” YN soothes easily, not meaning to put her on the spot, “It was an experience. It wasn’t what I -“
“Hello there, beautiful,” A deep voice interrupts their conversation, a hand brazenly sliding onto her bare shoulder.
It wasn’t Harry.
The man was attractive, above average but held no light to Harry.
He was muscular, in a way that wasn’t YN’s type.
His muscles were bulging, like they didn’t have enough room until his skin, and he was making it obvious that he was flexing his biceps.
“I just saw you walk in alone. God, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. Your tits are -“ The man begins to compliment.
Raven snaps her fingers, making a motion across her lips to the man to be quiet.
However, someone clears their throat, and all three turn their heads to Harry who was now standing behind them with a displeased frown.
“Hands off of her,” Harry murmurs, his voice is level, non-aggressive but still incredibly domineering that it wasn’t a recommendation.
It was an order.
The man removes his hand like he’d been burned, stepping back, and instantly apologizing the owner, “I-I didn’t know-“
Harry ignores him, glancing at Raven, “From here on out, please inform the guests that my submissive is off-fucking limits. Clear?”
“Yes,” Raven agrees with wide eyes.
The possessiveness as he puts his hand on her lower back was quite possibly the hottest thing that YN had experienced in her life.
The man disappears back into the group but is clearly passing on the message, whispered surprise as Harry guides her towards his office.
YN can hear bits and pieces of hushed conversation.
“What do you mean that’s his submissive?”
“He’s never once done that before. When he used to play, nearly a decade ago, he always shared his submissive.”
“He must be down bad for her.”
“I tried to get him for ages to play with me. She’s been here once.”
“Well yeah but look at her.”
That’s all she can gather before they’re out of earshot.
“You’re off limits. They won’t bother you again,” Harry assures her as he guides her into his office, motioning to a seat before walking to his desk.
YN nodded, her heart was pounding, and she had definitely lost a bit of bravery.
Harry opens a folder, YN notices her handwriting, and realizes it’s all of the questionnaires and paperwork.
“This paperwork is fine for casual play but we need to establish more before I feel comfortable getting started,” Harry tells her as his eyes trace over the information.
“Your hard limits…” Harry trails off as he skims, “We have a few similar ones. Neither of us are into body fluid play other than come. As well as we both do not like temperature play, well hot wax in particular.”
“Allergic reaction made my bum cheek swell up like I got stung by fifty bees,” YN smiles shyly, it was so nerve-wracking, she was intimidated and he wasn’t even trying at that moment.
Harry lets out a laugh, a genuine one, a sound she hasn’t heard before and it was beautiful like the rest of him.
“I also had an allergic reaction. I thought my cock was going to be permanently damaged,” Harry’s smile is softer, the dimple still appearing.
“I still have a scar on my ass,” YN giggles, he’d find it soon enough but now he knows why she has it.
“Any other limits not mentioned?”
“No, I mean I haven’t tried everything but those things are definite no-gos,” YN tells him, her nails digging into her thighs unconsciously almost.
“And we will find out other things you don’t like along the way. Hopefully, we find more things that you enjoy,” Harry's voice is gentle, like he can sense her nervousness and is trying to ease it.
“Things you know you like,” Harry prompts, looking back down towards her papers.
“I like to be a…brat as you know. I really love the dynamic of pushing and pushing until I give in. I love making my dom frustrated and annoyed. However, if the aftercare isn’t sweet and extremely gentle than it ruins the experience for me.”
The smile had naturally faded off if his face, eyes intent on her, “You want me to wear you down? Until you’re crying for me to be nice to you but even then I’ll give you more. After we wrap up, you want praise, compliments, and affection.”
YN nods in agreement, “Exactly.”
“Was this what your previous dom gave you?”
“Sorta? We were younger and he was still really learning. He wasn’t as mean as I wanted but he struggled with that part. He was definitely a softer dom than what I wanted. He could only handle so much of me being a brat, it was a fine line because he would start to actually get angry with me and it was hard for me to tell. I never fully felt like I was able to push as much as I wanted.”
“You will be able to push as far as you want with me. If you think you can go hard, I promise you I will give it back a hundred times worse,” Harry's words are threatening but she knows he’ll make good on it.
“We’ll see,” YN pokes the side of her cheek with her tongue in an act of indifference
Harry glances at her from under his eyelashes, gaze darting down to her chest for a moment before her lips then her eyes again.
YN knows her nipples are outlined against the thin fabric, ready to be played with, and teasing right in front him.
“As for Arthur,” Harry’s voice gets serious again, “I already laid out to him all of his rules and expectations. I do not share in scene.”
“I heard other members saying you did share your submissives,” YN isn’t arguing, just curious.
Harry pauses, lip twitching before blinking slowly and very distinctly says, “I will not share you in a scene. Is that an issue?”
“No, I don’t want that either. I just didn’t know what made me different,” YN responds, picking at her thumb on her lap.
“A lot of things make you different,” Harry replies cryptically, he doesn’t elaborate nor does YN ask because he continues speaking.
“He will not participate. He will not speak. And he will leave the room when I’m providing aftercare,” Harry tells her firmly, fingers drumming against the dark cherry oak.
“And he was okay with that?”
“He was hesitant at first but aftercare is very important to provide. I should be the one taking care of you afterwards, at least immediately afterwards, and I take it very seriously.”
“That all sounds fine.”
YN has to bite back saying ‘can you ask Arthur not to be in the room at all?’
“We will meet every Saturday night. At the start of hours. You will not socialize with others nor will you participate in free play. You will be fully dressed at all times in front of other members.”
YN tilts her head, leaning forward just the slightest so she knows there’s a gap in her top, flashing him his first sight of her breasts.
“Yes sir.”
Harry’s fingers roll tightly into a fist, exactly how she would hope he would have responded.
“I cannot wait to make you cry like the little disobident brat you are, fuckin’ starving for anything I’ll give you,” Harry tells her, voice dropping noticeably lower.
“I’ve been good all night. I’ve said sir,” YN makes sure to sound as innocent as possible, fluttering her eyelashes at him.
It’s crossing a boundary, surely.
Arthur isn’t here.
YN cannot find it in her to care.
“Then I guess our scenes will be mild, boring,” Harry shrugs, his cadence going slower, deeper into his accent, “Shame.”
He stands up, taking his time to round the desk, and reaches out his hand, “I will walk you out.”
YN raises her eyebrow, “In a minute. My legs are sore from running around all day.”
She gets the perfect response.
Frustration.
Harry’s jaw shifts under his skin, teeth together, and nostrils flaring, “Get the fuck up.”
“Jesus, someone has an attitude,” YN mutters under her breath but obviously loud enough that Harry would be able to hear her clear as day.
She pushes herself out of the seat and turns towards the door, the opposite side of where Harry is standing to bypass him.
As she walks towards the exit, a hand reaches from behind her, his chest suddenly flush against her back, and a hand cupping the sides of her neck.
He pulls her back into him with enough force that it knocks the wind out of her for a moment and she squeals in surprise, airway suddenly restricted slightly.
“You’re cute when you’re brave, kitty,” Harry whispers in her ear, teeth grazing her lone, and he bites her - enough to sting, “I’ll show you a fucking attitude. One you’ve never seen.”
His fingers tighten for a moment and YN doesn’t think before she’s pressing her bum back into the cradle of his hips.
He was thick, unsurprisingly big from what she could feel, and she was craving that inside her as soon as possible.
YN reaches for the hand on her throat and surprisingly, Harry lets her move if, down over her collarbones, down over her sternum, and guides him right to her chest.
Over the fabric, Harry finds her hard nipple with ease, and gives her the hardest tweak she’d ever experienced, gasping as she grinds backwards.
“Enough.”
Harry suddenly takes his hand, his body away, and is standing at a distance.
He shakes his head, “We can’t be doing things like this. You know that.”
YN bites her bottom lip, she knows why, and she knows Harry is just trying to respect her fiancé even when she can’t.
“Yeah,” YN agrees, trying to stop the tightness because she’s in over her head, how can she only have him once a week.
Why was she so fucking in to him when she barely knows him?
When she’s fucking engaged, with a date, a ring, and her father’s blessing to be wed.
YN crosses her arms over her chest, embarrassed because she almost feels like she’s being scolded for her actions.
As she should be.
His hand comes to her neck, cupping it gently this time as he sighs, shaking his head solemnly before their eyes meet, “This isn’t a good idea.”
YN’s heart rate spikes.
“You’re going to destroy me, aren’t you?”
And the way he says it isn’t teasing but isn’t accusatory either.
It’s like it’s a fact.
“I’ll try not to,” YN peeps up, swallowing harshly.
Harry laughs wistfully, thumbing over the center of her throat before stepping back, “S’a bit too late now, kitty.”
++
Friday cannot come quick enough.
YN is excited enough that the buzzing in her veins feels electric.
YN had sent Harry a picture earlier in the day of a hot pink lingerie set and then simpler black one next to it.
YN [11:03AM]: which one, sir? [photo attachment]
Harry [12:34PM]: It doesn’t matter. You’re stripping the minute you’re in the room.
Harry [1:01PM]: I am very rarely spontaneous. I have had this night planned since I first sat you in the club that first night.
YN [1:02PM]: when you were playing candy crush on your phone?
Harry [1:03PM]: I wasn’t playing candy crush. I was reviewing your file virtually to see if you were available for open play.
YN[1:04PM]: i thought you didn’t play in your club anymore
Harry[1:04PM]: I haven’t in nearly a decade.
YN’s hands were shaking, excitement, confusion, and curiosity.
YN[1:06PM]: what would you have done if i had been available?
Harry[1:13PM]: I would have fucked you so well that you wouldn’t have wanted to even look in your fiancé’s direction ever again. That you would have chased after me like a puppy after that instead of it being obvious how much I wanted you.
Harry[1:13PM]: I wanted you to only be able to think of me every time you slept with your fiancé.
Harry[1:14PM]: I’ve never been a possessive man but something in you has sparked it for me. I typically share without a problem. The one time I actually have to share, it’s going to be a struggle. I’m willing to try.
YN felt that Harry was actually being vulnerable with her for the first time and she didn’t know what all of this meant.
There is warning signs that YN is blatantly ignoring because he just fed her everything she’d wanted to hear.
YN[1:23PM]: thank you for trying
Harry [1:39PM]: I will see you tonight, sweet girl.
Sweet girl.
It felt different than the sweetie pie that Arthur went with, a nickname that she never had liked but didn’t have the heart to tell him.
YN may have reread their texts a few times as she got ready for the night.
She was going to have to meet Arthur there as he was coming from a work dinner.
++
Arthur meets her outside the club, giving her a firm kiss which takes her by surprise, he murmurs, “I cannot wait to see you tonight in there.”
YN rubs his shoulder, stiff when he kisses at her neck, and grips her hip.
“We should probably go in,” YN whispers back, stepping out of his hold to motion towards the door.
“Okay, sweetie,” Arthur smiles brightly, oblivious to any tension that YN’s holding in her body as he keeps his hand on her waist and follows her in.
YN had forgotten to tell Arthur about the rule that Harry did not want her interacting with other members before a scene.
And Harry clearly hadn’t communicated that with him because when they walk through the free play room doors, he guides them towards a group.
Arthur had made friends with a few people and they wave at them when they walk in, encouraging them to come chat.
YN feels herself start to panic slightly, this wasn’t good, off the bat she wasn’t following instructions and she needed to speak up.
“Hey guys!” Arthur greets as he pulls her with him into the circle of people.
“No, Art. I can’t -“ YN starts to frantically whisper into his ear as his brows twist downward in confusion.
Suddenly, everyone in the group goes wide-eyed, and YN has a sinking feeling that she knows exactly why.
A hand wraps around her throat, similar to the other day, and applies practiced pressure on the sides where her blood flows as he yanks her backwards into his chest.
His lips to her ear and it’s not necessarily what he says but it’s the tone.
It’s the dominance, the aggression, and something about it seems borderline primal, rasp and deep as he speaks carefully.
“If you think this is going to work in your favor, you’re very fucking wrong,” Harry warns with another squeeze, firmer this time.
Everyone around them is quiet.
They’re almost in shock.
And YN knows it has nothing to do with her and everything to do with Harry being openly dominant when he hasn’t in nearly a decade.
Harry must look towards the crowd, “My stupid lil’ kitty seemed to forget her rules already. You are not to interact with her prior or during play hours. Afterwards, it is fine. However, she is off-limits in every fucking sense. Understood?”
“Yes.”
All in unison.
Harry doesn’t acknowledge Arthur’s existence.
The hand on her neck was possession, ownership, and making sure everyone knew that YN was his to play with only.
“Sir, I-“ YN begins to try to speak when he lets up slightly.
Harry leans back toward her ear, his voice noticeably softer and quiet enough no one else can hear, “Hush. No play in front of others, remember? S’just for us. Now let’s go.”
YN closes her mouth and nods, eyes downward to avoid making eye contact with anyone who was watching.
Harry releases his grip, hand coming to intertwine their fingers which seems like such a stark contrast from where he’d been applying pressure to her airways.
It’s a quiet trek down the hallway, YN keeps her head down even when Arthur exchanges pleasantries with Raven.
Once they’re in the room, YN feels like she’s quivering in a mixture of fear of the unknown and anticipated excitement.
Arthur goes to the chair in the far corner without prompting, silent as he should be.
YN doesn’t plan to look at him at all.
Imagining it’s just her and her dom.
Harry is hers.
Atleast on Fridays.
“Do you have any questions before we begin?” Harry rasps lowly, stepping in front of her and studying her face.
YN shakes her head.
“Speak the fuck up,” Harry’s voice is substantially louder, meaner, and his whole expression has changed into something darker, malicious.
“No,” YN shakes her head again, biting back with a little attitude.
The same smile, deviant and enthralled with her response spreads on his face, dimples carving into his cheeks.
“Then let’s start,” Harry rumbles as he steps back even further, sitting on the bench, “Strip. Everything off.”
+
👀
please let me know your thoughts! They make my day
#harry styles writing#harry styles#harry styles masterlist#harry styles smut#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles au#harry styles one shot
226 notes
·
View notes
Text
dollhouse || jeff the killer
SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. PLEASE READ TW LIST: MURDER, YOU ARE A CREEP/MURDERER, blood kink? kinda?, choking, hate sex, enemies to prob lovers trope, orgasm denial, etc etc. yes there will be a part two ;) <3
“God fucking dammit!”
The screech left your mouth involuntarily, your hand gripping the back door and slamming it shut. The sound echoed through out the kitchen, your vision borderline seeing red. You continued to mutter curses under your breath as you stormed into the living room. Ben nearly bent his neck backwards trying to look at you from the couch, “Uh, something wrong?”
Your eyes were shooting daggers as you looked at him. The blonde would’ve cowered in fear if he didn’t find you tragically attractive. (Considering you’ve made it very clear you are off limits from any mansion residents). “I got a fucking assignment like i’m a goddamn proxy,” You grumbled, stomping into the living room. Lazily you flopped down on the couch beside Ben, running your fingers through your hair.
Ben playfully elbowed you. “Oh cmon, that’s not that bad. Every creep has had to go on a mission for Slendy at one time or another,” He said cheerfully, resuming his button mashing on his xbox controller. You slumped in your seat, sighing as you propped up your head.
“Yeah, but not every creep has been paired with Jeffrey Woods.”
“Don’t flatter yourself sunshine, i’m not happy to be paired with you either,” Jeffs cold voice rang from the staircase. Ben looked back and forth between you to, pausing his game. “Oh and call me that again and i’ll slit your throat,” Jeff barked. He casually strolled down the stairs, parking himself in his usual chair by the window. You refrained from looking at him, his face making you physically sick. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about either. If I were you i’d be dropping my fucking panties and praising Slender,” Jeff continued. His rambling was growing tiresome, your patience becoming thinner.
You and Jeff were equally as aggressive, which led to many disputes and many more fist fights. Jeff never knew when to shut his mouth and you never knew when to stop throwing punches. “You single handedly have the best killer on your team and you’re still running your mouth. At this point it’s a mystery why your folks didn’t stitch it shut,” Jeff snickered. Your ears twitched visibly, your eyes widening at the sound of him mentioning your human family. Your human life.
In a swift motion you dug the (carefully thought out) emergency knife from the couch, throwing it at his head. You were known for your aim, your accuracy. The blade whisked past Jeff, digging into the wall. “You’re gonna break a window!” Ben screeched. Jeff frowned, glaring at the knife in the wall behind him. “You missed doll face,” He seethed. You grinned your petty scheme paying off.
“Did I?”
A warm liquid began trickling down Jeff’s ear, his fingers reaching to identify the source. Crimson red blood stained his fingertips, the lobe of his ear nipped by the launched blade. “You bitch i’ll kill you!” Jeff yelled, rising from his seat. You matched his energy, standing up immediately. Despite Jeff’s tall size you refused to let him intimate you, your gaze always burning with a sincere hatred. Ben was quick to hop around you, wedging himself in between you both.
“Guys let’s think about this, you know Slender’s rules,” The blonde suggested. Typically Ben didn’t give two shits about Creeps wrestling it out. Shit, last week he let Masky throw Toby into the coffee table. (Shattered it, by the way.) But he genuinely liked the both of you, considering you both his best friends. Your eyes flickered past Jeff for a moment, landing at the disney princess clock Sally had requested.
“Shit we’re late. Clean yourself up and let’s go.”
\/
One key thing was to be known about Slender missions: if you had any questions, you kept them to yourself. This is what you tried to convince yourself as you pulled on a set of scrubs. Cosplaying as a nurse was not on your bucket list, certainly not like this. “Could you be any slower?” Jeff huffed. You both stood in the back alley of the hospital, a keycard having been delivered to you to gain entry. Jeff stood on the other side of the car, facing the wall. You threatened to scoop his eyes out if he looked at you changing, the mere threat alone leading to half of his annoyance.
“Oh im sorry, maybe if your face didn’t look like it went through a meat grinder you could’ve been the doctor,” You spat, venom lacing your words. You shoved on your face mask, your key card pinned to your shirt. You rounded the car, shoving Jeff his sunglasses and blue face mask. “Do I look legit?” You asked. Jeff scowled as he shoved on the sunglasses, shoving his hood over his head. “I wouldn’t trust you with a walnut, nevertheless my life,” He snarled. You had learned long ago to discard anything Jeff said to you, no matter how hurtful or spiteful it seemed to be.
But he noticed your eyebrows briefly furrowing, your eyes flickering with concern you didn’t look nurse like enough to complete the mission. “But yeah I guess you look like a healthcare professional,” Jeff finished, shoving his face mask on. You locked the car, shoving the keys into your scrubs. Jeff’s part was to play a sick patient, one you were taking to the emergency wing. The same wing where they had a lab with copious amounts of blood bags. Again, you were never supposed to ask questions. But you couldn’t help but wonder what or who Slender would be feeding with these bags.
“Why did you make me wash my hoodie again? The blood on it could’ve looked like I was coughing it up,” Jeff asked. Jeff was notorious for not wanting to wash his hoodie. You figured it was an ego thing, pride always seeming to drip off of him when he paraded around in his victims blood. Grabbing your keycard you bypassed the pitiful security system, the door unlocking with a click. You grabbed him by his shoulder, assertively guiding him inside. “Yeah we would’ve wanted you to look like you were coughing up blood, not coming back from a murder scene,” You whispered. The bright hospital lights were borderline overstimulating, your vision narrowing as you struggled to remember instructions.
Jeff sensed this, fake coughing and jerking his head towards the sign. West wing. Great. You led Jeff through the busy hospital, nodding respectfully at any medical staff that made eye contact with you. No one seemed suspicious, just another human nursing a sick patient back to health, right? The journey felt longer than it was, your nerves gnawing at you. It wasn’t the fear of being identified necessarily. You and Jeff (if you managed to work together as a team) could certainly slaughter this entire hospital floor and get away. It’s not like many would try to fight you both off either.
Creeps were not to make spectacles of themselves by having their identifies revealed to humans. Camera systems were in place, people had cell phones, police were nowadays just one click away. If you both failed to remain secretive, you’d violate one of Slender’s rules. And if you cared to live another day with more than three brain cells in tact, you did not disobey Slender.
Finally reaching the west wing brought instant relief, both of you reaching your destination. You swiped your keycard, both of you pushing into the room. A middle aged man stood at the counter, turning around to see who had entered. He briefly turned back around, before realizing Jeff did not appear to be medical staff. You shoved a metal cart in front of the door, Jeff quick to take out the threat. “Go to sleep,” He snickered, slitting the man’s throat. You rolled your eyes, grabbing a trash bag from under the sink.
“gO tO sLeEp,” You muttered mockingly. You wondered when he’d retire the corny catchphrase. You threw your mask aside, tired of playing pretend. Jeff strolled over to the fridge, yanking open the door. Blood pooled on the floor beneath his shoes, staining them as he crouched down. Jeff wasn’t bothered in any capacity, reaching out to grab a trash bag. You both began shoving the bags into the bag, grabbing each and every type. “Wait did Slender want the different blood types in different bags?” Jeff asked. You sighed, ignoring him as he stopped and looked at you. He yanked off the mask and tossed aside the sunglasses, his obsidian eyes boring into yours. “He didn’t specify,” You shrug, grabbing another row of bags.
“He didn’t specify? So why wouldn’t you do it then?” Jeff asked. You rolled your eyes, dropping your hands. “What does it matter? We’re putting bags of blood into trash bags and delivering it like we’re in the twilight zone. We don’t even know what this is for,” You argued. You went to grab another bag, Jeff’s pale hand harshly grabbing your arm. “Exactly, we don’t know what it’s for. Meaning we should play it safe,” Jeff debated. You yanked your arm away from him, disgusted by his touch. Angrily you dropped the trash bag, standing up.
“You just want an excuse to argue. I knew you would fuck this mission up,” You growled. Jeff rose to his feet, towering over you as he did so. “I’m fucking up the mission? You’re the one who’s being sloppy,” He said, poking your chest. You shoved his shoulders, hating his touch. “You’re the sloppy one. Yeah Jeff get your shoes stained with the humans blood so they can look for it later. We’ll just have to burn it in the middle of nowhere,” You said, gesturing to his shoes. Jeff rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Them knowing my shoes, which by the way, are converse, which half of the planet owns, is not a big fucking deal,” He said mockingly.
You threw your arms up, exasperated. “Yes it is! Because then they’ll link it to any other crime they’ve captured with a stupid pale guy in converse and it’ll be all over the news, and you know how Slender hates the media-” You began, before the hallway light stopped your sentence for you. Two nurses shoved their way inside of the room, both of you freezing. Shit.
Jeff grabbed both of them by their scrubs, yanking them inside and slamming the door. He shoved his hand over the first one’s mouth, slamming her onto the cold floor. Your victim seemed dumbfounded, her eyes widening in the same fear that dripped off of every victim of yours. “Dont scream bitch, whatever you do, don’t scream,” You suggested. You didn’t look visibly armed, maybe she’d listen to you. As Jeff repeatedly stabbed her coworker in the chest, she changed her mind. A shallow gasp left her lips before you were on her like a wild animal, your pocket knives blade stabbing her from the underside of her chin.
Not your preferred method, gallons of her blood pouring down onto you and your scrubs. Her eyes went blank as the soul left her body, her life officially drained. Crimson paint coated your entire front side, the skin on your arms stained with the color. “There is no fucking way i’m going to be able to walk through the hospital like this,” You seethed. You turned to Jeff, tossing the nurses limp corpse aside. “You should’ve been keeping a lookout instead of picking an argument!” You exclaimed. Jeff rose to his feet above his own victim, her organs on full display as smashed lumps of meat.
“Nothings ever your fault, is it sunshine? Maybe take some responsibility for your fuckups instead of pinning it on me,” Jeff spat. You hated him. You hated him beyond belief. You also hated that he in one way or another, was right. You let him get in your head and distract you from the mission. In a fit of rage you shoved at his chest, the pale killer having enough of your hissy fit. He shoved you back, pushing you against the counter. Slipping on the blood beneath you, you instinctively grabbed handfuls of Jeff’s hoodie, dragging him with you.
His body smashed into yours as your back hit the counter, both of you breathing heavily. You glared up at him, his body not deserting yours. He licked his dry lips, observing you from above. Your chin and neck were coated in blood, along with the rest of you. When Jeff came to think of it, you didn’t look half bad when your mouth was shut and you were covered in his favorite liquid. Glaring up at him you noticed he was stained the same way, splatters of blood painting his face. “I hate you,” You seethed. Jeff leaned in closer to you, his face an inch away from yours.
“I hate you too sunshine. Don’t ever think for a moment I don’t,” He replied. You could feel your heart beginning to race, the close proximity making your stomach do back flips. “Why would I think you don’t?” You asked. Jeff hesitated, knowing what he was about to do would change everything. But fuck he could not resist a hot chick covered in blood. “Cause of this,” He huffed, smashing his lips into yours. You were surprised to find yourself kissing him back, clashes of teeth ensuing more than a traditional kiss. His large hands helped you onto the counter, the pale killer wedging himself between your legs.
You wrapped your arms around Jeff’s neck, bringing him closer. You both were willingly jeopardizing the mission, all for a sweet release. Because you both knew deep down that you both were the same, cut from the same cloth. Jeff’s hands slid up your thighs, reaching for the hem of your scrubs. Your lips refusing to stray from his, awkwardly lifting your hips to help him take them off. Jeff’s tongue slid into your mouth, the faint taste of a monster energy drink dancing across your tongue. Jeff was quick to pull down your pants and panties, leaving you completely exposed.
“We don’t have much time,” You panted into his lips, nibbling on his bottom lip. Your hands reached for his pants, fiddling with the belt. Jeff rubbed two fingers up and down your slick, sickly satisfied with how wet you were for him. “You’re fucking drenched. I knew your slutty ass wanted me,” He snickered. You glared up at him, wrapping your legs around his waist. Without thinking you raised an open hand, slapping Jeff across the cheek. The stinging electrified him, his cock throbbing with a more intense desire.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” He seethed, shoving two fingers inside of you. You let out a groan, your hand slithering down to your clit. “Who are you supposed to be pretending to be now? Ben?” You asked, relishing in the sight of his pale cheek turning pink. He curled his long fingers inside of you, your eyes fluttering shut as you moaned. “You greedy bitch, pay attention,” Jeff growled. His spare hand flew to your throat, harshly gripping at the sides. Your eyes burst open, meeting his dark orbs. “Thats it, look at me as I ruin you,” Jeff ordered.
You began drawing quick circles around your clit, biting your inner lip. “You gonna make me cum or just keep talking?” You huffed, grinning as his grip on your neck tightened. Jeff continued finger fucking you, your groans music to his ears. “You sick bitch. You like me choking you, huh?” He taunted. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your orgasm threatening to wash over you. Jeff could sense so too, releasing your throat and yanking away your hand from your clit. His fingers emerged from your cunt, just as you were teetering on the edge of cumming.
“You fucking asshole, fuck you,” You seethed. You spat in his face, your saliva coating the same cheek you slapped. Jeff picked you up off of the counter, slamming you against the closest wall. Aggressively he pulled down his pants and boxers, his lips meeting yours again. For such a prick he was intoxicating, his lips working wonders against yours. “Be patient for once you brat. You’re gonna cum on my cock like a good whore should,” Jeff grumbled, rubbing his shaft up and down your slick. He forcefully shoved himself inside of you, your body splitting in half as his dick bottomed out inside of you.
You gripped his blood stained hoodie, your palms covered in the liquid you could never escape. You swallowed as you screwed your eyes shut, attempting to adjust. Your body was tense and still, your breathing heavy. You expected Jeff to be a prick and move, ramming into you the way he wanted to. But he didn’t, his eyes watching you intently. Slowly and unsurely he grabbed your chin, forcing your head towards. His touch seemed too caring to be real, his lips working against yours again. Your body slowly relaxed, his lips bringing you ease.
Jeff hadn’t expected you to be overly experienced, your walls squeezing him like you were a virgin. An uneasy silence flooded between you to as you fully adjusted, your eyes fluttering open. “Jeff, move,” You ordered weakly, straying away from his heroin laced lips. The pale killer wanted to deny you, to make you beg for him. But as your victims blood pooled at his shoes once more, he knew he didn’t have time for that. He began moving quickly, his thrust rough and reckless. His cock abused your g spot just like his words abused your sanity.
“You’re bigger than I thought you’d be,” You huffed, unable to stop yourself from insulting the man who was providing you euphoric pleasure. Jeff laughed dryly, burying himself in the crook of your neck. “You’re tighter than I thought you’d be. I thought you’d be so desperate as to let EJ fuck you and stretch out this cunt of yours,” He rambled, jealousy ensuing. He hated how well you got along with EJ. He hated how seeing you laugh with him made him feel. He didn’t understand it. That nagging feeling. He couldn’t understand it. He didn’t want to understand it.
You licked your lips as you tried to contain your sinful noises, Jeffs name finally straying from your lips as he abused your cunt. “Thats it, moan my fucking name,” He praised, a sick satisfaction making his hips snap into you faster. His breath was hot against your neck, the twisted fucker licking the side of your neck. The taste of sweat and blood was intoxicating to him, the killer only more turned on by the taste. You could feel yourself finally close to the finish line, your hands combing into Jeff’s shaggy ash black hair.
“Fuck, right there. Please don’t stop,” You whined, unable to stop the plea from falling off of your lips. Who was Jeff to deny you of that? Your walls spasmed around him as you came, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Jeff came with a grunt, huffing into your neck as his warm seed flooded your cunt. You both were frozen for a moment, the realization of what had just happened washing over you. You shoved Jeff’s chest, pushing him away from you. The pale killer backed away, removing himself from your cunt.
He watched as you shoved your clothes back on, grabbing the trash bag.
“Get dressed bitch boy, we have a mission to finish.”
#creepypasta#creepypasta smut#creepypasta x y/n#creepypasta x female reader#creepypasta x you#creepypasta lemon#creepypasta x reader#creep#jeff the killer#jeff the killer x y/n#jeff the killer x you#jeff the killer x reader#jeff the killer x eyeless jack#jeff the killer smut#jeff the killer x female reader
116 notes
·
View notes
Text
Take It Like A Real Man
sub!chan x dom!afab!reader 🔞
✨ synopsis: Chris has been a consistent dom throughout your entire relationship, which is why you are very surprised when he asks for one of your biggest sexual fantasies to come true.
✨ request from: @chrizzztopherbang
✨ warnings: degradation, offensive language, anal play, pegging, probably some more?
You’d been toying with Chan for the past several weeks. With the way that he made you feel, how could you not?
You loved your boyfriend, don’t get me wrong. And sex with him was amazing every time. But maybe you just wanted to… spice things up a bit?
Chan was the most dominant guy you’d ever been with in the bedroom. Choking you, spanking you, and pounding the absolute shit out of you almost every day. You felt so small underneath him. Like a toy to him. But lately… you thought about what it would be like for him to be a toy for you.
He’d been looking too good recently. Walking around in his slutty little tank tops and his sweatpants. His jaw was looking sharper than usual and you could tell his biceps were getting bigger day by day. You’d almost shudder from excitement every time he came up to hug you from behind, feeling the outline of his bulge graze you ever so slightly, though you knew that wasn’t his intention. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly one thing, but there was something (everything) about him that was driving you insane.
So you decided to… test the waters. You began to initiate the make-outs more. You decided you’d be the one to climb on top of him more. The first to grind into him and take charge. To push him down and hold him there while you rode him on top. And the more you got comfortable, you felt like you could be rougher too, lightly choking him and whispering dirty things to him.
And by his reaction, you could tell that he fucking loved it. However, by the end of the night, he always ended up taking over. He’d still fuck you into oblivion with your face in the pillow until you couldn’t breathe. No matter what you did to him, he was a dom after all.
One day after work, a bright sign caught your attention. You’d driven past it a million times without a second thought. But today, something about it felt different. The sign for a sex shop.
You figured it couldn’t hurt to go in and look around. Maybe buy a few things that looked fun. You strolled through each section, getting some essentials like lube and sex toy cleaner. But as you walked past, the bondage and sub sections caught your eye. One thing specifically. A strap on harness with a vibrator built in for your clit.
You couldn’t help but be curious. And let’s be real, Chan would never want that… Would he? He’d always ended up giving into his dom tendencies no matter how much you offered up.
‘It would be stupid to buy it,’ you said to yourself, pulling your arm back in. ‘Just a waste of money.’
After you’d stepped only a few feet away, you were already stopped by another product you’d only ever seen online. A cock ring.
You took the box into your hands, reading it over and flipping it around to get a good look. It didn’t look too intimidating. Nothing too scary.
‘Now this… maybe this I could work with,’ you grinned.
You balanced the box in your hands along with your other products. You turned on your heels to exit the section and head towards the register before you could be tempted by anything else that you saw. Everything that Chan wouldn’t want.
You walked only a few feet though before you stopped. Your mind couldn’t kick it out. The strap on. How hot Chan would look under you. If he was able to take it all and give in to you. How fucking beautiful he would look moaning for you and getting so overstimulated that he couldn’t stand it.
Fogging your head, you decided to just buy the damn thing. ‘So what if I lose some money?’ you thought. A girl can dream.
A few months had gone by with a pretty similar routine. You’d often take the lead at the beginning, and about halfway through, Chan would finish it off. That is, IF Chan didn’t initiate it first and set you up from the beginning.
But today felt a bit different.
Chris had just gotten home looking (surprise) fucking delicious. It had been a late night studio session, so you could see the tiredness in his eyes. Which is why you were startled when he seemed to actually be in a great mood.
“Hey baby!” he said, coming up to squeeze you in a hug on the couch and nuzzling his head against your cheek. So cute. So different from his tendencies in the bedroom.
“Well someone’s happy!” you giggled back. “Good day today?”
He looked at you with excited eyes. “We finally got done with a track we’d been stuck on for weeks. I think it turned out so good. This is really one of the best songs I think we’ve made,” he smiled.
You gave him a tight squeeze. “That’s great baby. I’m so proud of you.” You leaned in to place a soft peck to his nose.
He blushed a bit as he said thank you.
On instinct, you scooted yourself to the side of the couch a bit. “Wanna lay your head down?” you asked, patting your lap.
You knew this was Chan’s favorite. Laying his head on you and letting you brush your fingers through his curls, massaging his scalp as you went. It was the most amazing way for him to destress. But at this moment, when he got it and he wasn’t even stressed? Well that was an even higher rush for him.
He grinned ear to ear as he moved to lie on his back and place his head perfectly in the middle of your lap, giving you access to him right underneath you.
You continued to talk about both of your days. The best and the worst parts. Apparently the boys were annoying all day, so having the good session tonight was exactly what Chan needed. You talked to him about the song, with him teasing you and telling you he wasn’t gonna show you yet.
“You know that’s not fair!” you protesting, trying to pout. “Come on pleaseeeee.”
“No, I’m not gonna show you,” he teased again, shaking his head cutely.
You began to run your hands more softly and slower through his hair, hoping it would coerce him a bit. Let him know that you would take your time with him.
“It’s okay,” you smirked. “You’re gonna give in anyways.” Did you sound like a know-it-all? Yes. But did you sound like a cute know-it-all? Also yes.
Chris smiled. “Not this time. I’m putting my foot down.” He innocently raised one leg on the couch just to push it down sharply as if he were fake stomping.
“Oh really?” you started, dragging your voice down. You began to slowly glide one hand from his head, down his neck, and then to comfortably rub across his pecs, massaging them at your own pace. “I’ll do anything,” you plead with big eyes, trying your best to seduce him into it.
Chan put a look on his face to act like he was puzzled. “Aaanything?”
“Say the word-“ you leaned down to press a short kiss to his mouth, “and it’s yours.”
You took this moment to rub down further, down his abs, tracing lines along the way, until you got just above his waistband. You teased around a bit, dragging your finger along as if contemplating what to do with it.
You waited patiently as Chan wiggled underneath you. Observing his reactions, you realized how blushed he was.
“Is this what you want?” you asked softly, moving a few fingers past the band of his boxers. You didn’t want to touch him- yet. Just wanted to watch him and see what he would do.
“Mhmm,” he huffed out, repositioning his head so that he could see better.
After massaging around him and around his thighs, you brought your hand up to your mouth. You spit in it as best you could before lowering it back to it’s original position.
This time, you snaked your hand straight down to where his dick was. Almost completely hard already without you having to touch it. You decided you’d be bold.
“Oh, is this what you like baby? You like this?” you smiled menacingly as you rubbed up and down, covering his cock with the saliva.
Chan was embarrassed. You could tell. Was it because he didn’t like it but didn’t have the heart to tell you? Or was it because he was enjoying this more than he thought he should… you being in charge of him. Talking to him like this.
From how hard his dick was underneath your hand, you were willing to bet it was the second one.
You let yourself stroke a little bit harder, making sure to swirl the tip of your thumb around his opening. He hissed slightly at the feeling.
“What is it baby? Feels too good? You can’t even talk to me?” You teased.
Chan just wiggled in response, bucking up into your hand for more contact.
You let him go on for a few seconds before abruptly pulling your hand away. Now was the time to try.
“If you don’t tell me what you want, I can’t give you anything baby,” you smiled, knowing how flustered he was underneath you.
Chan relaxed his head as he laid it back, closing his eyes and letting himself catch his breath. After a few deep breaths, he gave a hesitant sigh. You watched as he began to fidget with his fingers. Knobby and lacing around each other, they were almost shaking. He looked… mad?
With one final suck of air, he sat himself up. You didn’t quite know how to react.
“I’m sorry,” you said impulsively as he turned his body toward yours. You were a bit frantic trying to fix things. “I didn’t mean to push you into doing something you don’t like. I know you’d rather be in control, and I like that too. Let’s go back to that, okay?”
“No, it’s not-“ Chan cleared his throat. “It’s not that.” He cracked his knuckles while looking down. “I need to talk to you about something first… I’ve wanted to talk to you about it for a while, but I guess I’ve just been nervous about what you’ll say and how you’ll react and what you’ll think of me, and just, I don’t know. Maybe I’m making it a big deal for nothing. I just don’t want you to think differently of me if you’re not into it and maybe if it’s weird to you. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being pressured into anything. And I don’t want you to think it’s not enough for me if we don’t do it because I do love the way that we are now. Things have been so great and I don’t want any of this to mess us up-“
“Babe, you’re rambling,” you stared at him. “Whatever it is, it’s okay. You can tell me.”
He held his breath for a moment before continuing. “Promise you won’t judge?”
“I pinky promise.” You reached your hand to rest on top of his, intertwining your pinky finger underneath his own.
He let his pinky grip to it tightly. “Well ever since you’ve been getting, you know, more involved in starting things with me, I have really enjoyed it. But you know it’s kind of just instinct for me to take over. I can’t really help it, you know. Just when you look so good, it gets to hard for me to stop myself…” He waited for a moment before trying to start again. “But I’ve been seeing stuff… And that combined with the way you’ve been acting lately, I think- I think I’d like to try something. But it’s kind of weird and nothing we’ve ever talked about, so you can absolutely say no. I mean, I may have even ended up hating it, so maybe it’s best we didn’t even have this conversation and we just forget about it so-“.
“Christopher! Please for the love of God just tell me. What do you want to try?” You’d spoken louder than you’d meant to.
Fidgeting with his hands again, he finally admitted it. “I want to let you be more dominant. And I want you to be in control the whole time.”
“That’s it? You’re embarrassed about that?” you almost cackled over how ridiculous it was for him to make such a big deal about that. It wasn’t like you weren’t slowly working your way there.
“Well, no. I also wanted to try… maybe pegging. Like if you were pegging me. If it’s weird, we don’t have to, but I’ve been th-“ he got cut off by the sound of you.
“Oh my gosh!!!” you sprung up from your seat and quickly made the way to your closet. There, at the back, you’d had your secret stash hidden away for months. You grabbed the bag filled with lube, the strap on, and the cock ring. You squealed as you ran back in the living room where your boyfriend was waiting with a confused face. He squinted his eyes at you, waiting for you to go on.
“Okay SO,” you started, voice full of pep, “a little while back, I was just shopping around and, well, I saw these and thought maybe one day, I’d be able to convince you to let us try.” You smiled as you pulled out both the strap on and the cock ring at the same time, letting the lube in the bag hit the ground.
Chris started laughing, not able to believe his eyes. “Hahaha, no wayyy,” he carried his raised voice.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” you teased, swaying your hips as you walked up closer to him. As you took a seat on the couch, you snaked your arms around his neck. You gave him a few quick pecks on his lips before smirking and running one hand down his torso as slowly as you could, letting him enjoy it. You leaned in beside his ear, letting hot breath hit it for a moment. “We need to move this to the bedroom. But you’re gonna be good and listen to me this time, okay?”
You felt Chan shiver and get shy all of a sudden. “Okay,” a tiny grin appeared as he crossed his hands in his lap.
You stood first, holding your hand out for him to grab onto. You quickly bent to retrieve your lube and new toys. You gently pulled Chan’s hand along to follow as you made your way to the bedroom. As you walked, you were silently thankful that you’d already taken everything out of the box to clean it.
You gingerly tossed everything onto the bed before turning to wrap your arms around Chan’s neck again. As you found his lips, you used your position as an advantage to pull his neck down and his face closer to yours.
Chan scared to put his hands on you, you pulled back, smiling. Feeling like you’d won already. “You can touch me now, Channie.”
He blushed before resting his veiny hands on your waist. This time, you were sure you would attach your lips to his permanently. As you kissed, you bit and tugged and pulled as Chan gave into you. He let out little moans as you kept pulling him in closer, devouring every inch of his plump lips. You ravaged until you couldn’t stand it anymore.
With a dramatic gasp, rushing air into your tight lungs, you pulled back. You stared into his face, so nervous yet excited. It was the most endearing thing you’d ever seen. You smirked as you watched him groveling.
“Clothes off. Now.” you instructed.
You watched as Chan immediately was humbled. Without hesitation, he stripped himself of his top, revealing his rough abs, which he seemed to be shy about all of a sudden. He covered himself by crossing his arms slightly as he pulled his pants down and stepped out of them.
You stood, running your eyes up and down his exposed body, cocking one brow. You knew he felt so exposed like this.
“Underwear?” you ordered more than asked.
He looked so small as he hunched over to remove them, revealing his already semi-hard cock.
You smiled, obviously staring at his dick. “You’re that excited already?”
He gulped, not knowing what to say. Standing meekly, hoping you wouldn’t make him continue with words.
“It’s cute you’re this riled up for me baby,” you said, walking in closer and quickly grabbing his dick in your hands. You began to stroke it quickly, dry, with no warning.
He hissed in response, contorting his face.
“I think we could do better though, huh? Pull my clothes off of me, then lay on the bed,” you demanded.
He hurriedly reached to the hem of your shirt to pull it up and over your head. He reached around for the bra straps next, running his arms around your back as quickly as he could. He didn’t want to disappoint so soon.
You swatted at his arms. “Did I say you could see my tits? So fucking greedy… Take off my shirt and pants ONLY. I don’t want to have to say it again.”
If the instantaneous stiffening of Chan’s dick was any indication of how much he was enjoying this, then he must have been on goddamn cloud nine.
He whimpered slightly, moving his hands back slowly and down to the area just below your waist. He swiftly undid the buttons on your jeans and lowered himself to be able to remove them from you fully.
“Stay,” you instructed.
You couldn’t have loved this sight more. Your boyfriend bent for you, looking up with doe eyes. Right at the level of your pussy. What could be more perfect.
You placed a hand in his hair, harshly pushing his head forward until it was almost touching.
“Lick. Now. Like you fucking mean it.” Your voice came out bitchier than you thought possible. But that was the point.
Chan hurriedly leaned in to run his tongue along the outside of your clothed pussy, starting from bottom to top. The slight sensation felt almost too good after all of the pent up tension you’d been feeling. You watched the way his tongue moved slowly, up and down. If he wasn’t in this position, you’d think he was teasing you. But with your hand resting on the back of his head, you knew you’d have full control. And he knew that.
Chan moved his tongue suddenly, intently, to the side of your pussy, toying at the fabric of your underwear. It was like he was trying to move it out of the way with the force of his tongue only.
“Keep going,” you instructed, releasing a light moan. “Lick underneath them and keep your eyes up here.”
Chris was quick to follow your instructions, swiftly locking his eyes into yours. You smiled at him- encouragement that he was doing so well for you.
You shivered as he planted his cheek into the side of you pussy, letting his tongue run along underneath the material of the the underwear.
“Taste that baby. You’re gonna taste all of me. Take it in your mouth,” you directed.
You observed the look on his face as he bit the underwear up and into his mouth, inhaling deeply. His eyes shut for a moment, taking in the experience. It looked utterly blissful for him.
“Eyes! I’m not going to fucking tell you again!” you yelled, yanking his head back so that he’d look up at you.
Big innocent eyes flashed to yours. Apologetic, but loving. After all of this. He loved this. He relished in this. Nothing could beat this.
“Back to to my pussy. Open your mouth and stick your tongue out,” you ordered him, keeping one hand on his hair as the other reached down to move your underwear out of the way.
Chan did as instructed, which earned him a pleased smile and a ramming of his head into your pussy. You quickly guided his head up and down, soaking his nose and tongue in your juices. The combination hit just the right spot.
You froze as you felt the euphoric combination. His nose hitting you clit which his tongue poked perfectly into your entrance.
“Right there, holy shit,” you moaned, fucking his face in this position. You held his head steady as you bounced yourself up and down on him. The feeling was almost indescribable.
You felt him trying to pull back slightly, needing to search for air.
“You don’t breathe unless I tell you to fucking breathe!” you shouted, pushing his face in harder.
You watched him sink down slightly, his body creeping lower to the floor. You used this to your advanced, moving your hips with a quickening speed across his face.
Going and going and going until you almost couldn’t anymore.
Once you were almost satisfied, you bunched Chan’s hair in your hand and yanked him off of you. His eyes scrunched closed as he heaved in heavily, gasping and panting heavily.
“Finally put that big fucking nose to good use, huh? You liked that, didn’t you? Burying your nose so deep in my fucking cunt? You’re such a dirty boy.”
You used the hand that was once holding your underwear to rest on his chin, spreading your thumb to hold one side of his face and the rest of your fingers on the other. You squeezed his cheeks hard, making his lips puff out as you lowered yourself to get closer to his level.
You leaned in to plant a kiss to his waiting lips. You slid your hand down to release his face and instead take hold around his neck. Your other hand laced around to take residence in the hair at the back of his head.
Now, you kissed, him deeply, throwing yourself into him and making him take it all. He threw his tongue into your mouth, letting out soft mewls as you bit back.
You were so lost in the kiss that your head began to spin, moving his head in every direction to gain access to new parts of his mouth.
You began to stand, clutching Chan’s neck to pull him up with you, never disconnecting his lips from yours. The smell of saliva and your juices took over as you each buried yourself in. Locking into each other as you were both fully erect.
You each tangled your hands around each other as you stood for a long few moments, enjoying the passion between the two of you before you started toying with him once again.
Once the air was rushing out of your head, you pulled yourself back harshly. You scanned over his beautiful face, drenched in liquid. His lips were red and puffy, his eyes clouded over, but chipper as if awaiting what was to come next.
‘This fucking boy,’ you thought.
You quickly spit onto your hand as you hastened your hand down to grab Chan’s dick again. Jerking quickly, you could tell by his face that it was completely overstimulating all to quickly. But you couldn’t help it. He just looked too cute.
He whimpered as you kept going, looking like he would lose his breath at any moment. The sounds just turned you on more.
“You can’t even handle this? Can’t handle getting your dick touched without fucking blowing? You better not fucking cum Christopher,” you demanded.
Chan’s face contorted, puffing out his cheeks and throwing his head back to stifle any moans that would have come out. His face was visibly red. His abs began to twitch as you stroked him even harder. Faster. You knew he wouldn’t be able to last anymore. His dick peaked, as hard as you’d ever felt it. A new sensation had been unlocked. A few more pumps and he’d be over.
As suddenly as you started, you jerked your hand back and off of him. Below, you watched in awe as his dick was still quivering from the arousal it had been getting. Up and down, back and forth, slightly as he let out muffled whines, eyes almost tearing up.
You chuckled softly, making sure it was loud enough so that he could hear it. “You really are a subby baby, aren’t you?” you smiled deviously.
Resting a hand on his beating chest, you walked him backward until his knees undid over the bed and he was propelled down.
Wasting no time, you grabbed the brightly-colored lube bottle next to his head and squeezed it out into your hand. It was cold, which you figured would be perfect for the occasion.
You perched yourself on your knees next to Chan, reaching your hands down to begin massaging the lube onto him. He winced at the chill of your touch, but soon started to warm up as you massaged it into him. He let his eyes flutter closed as he began taking deep breaths, enjoying this small stent of peace.
“No falling asleep now,” you teased. “Wake up and put this on,” you demanded, throwing the cock ring at him.
Before he could react, the plastic-y material hit him in the chest, bouncing down to land on his torso. He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down with wide eyes and his mouth gaped.
You watched as he swallowed harshly, looking as if he was trying to find the right words. He took the toy and rotated it around in one hand, searching for an answer.
“Uhmm, I don’t-“ he started, looking defeated. “I don’t think I know how…”
“Awww, little baby can’t figure it out?” you taunted, leaning down. “Can’t wrap his pretty little brain around it? Poor thing.” You quickly jerked it from his hand.
“Watch,” you raised your voice at him, lifting your eyebrows as if to threaten him. You held the ring in your hands, coating it in the left-over, slippery lube. Pressing it down and onto the tip of his dick, it was already a tight fit, wrapping around him snuggly. You admired the way the blood rushed through, leaving the tip of him totally engorged. “Feels good already, doesn’t it?” you giggled as he let out a breath he’d been holding in, writhing and looking pitiful beneath you.
“But you can do more,” you said airily as you began working the ring down his length. He let out small moans and grunts along the way until you made it to the base of his shaft.
It was the perfect size. Just tight enough to keep him wiggling, but not too tight to stop him from experiencing the heightened sensations.
“Mmm, isn’t that better?” You smiled. “Good boy,” you praised, lowering your face to plant a slow kiss on his tip. “For now,” you jolted up. “Now flip over. I want you on your hands and knees,” you instructed.
Chan offered an overt gulp before complying with your request.
Once he’d gotten into position, you could tell he was a bit nervous. This was the most vulnerable he’d ever been with you. And a part of you questioned if he would back out now. Would he make it this far before he realized he couldn’t go through with it?
You pushed the thoughts out of your head, realizing that those were your insecurities in this, not his. And you’d make for fucking sure that he wouldn’t want to stop this.
You grasped his hips and pulled them back, arching his back slightly to get his ass higher up. Stealthily, you held onto each side, rubbing harshly before planting short smacks, leaving behind the sound of sharp skin.
A smile eased across your face as you heard Chan moan the slightest bit. Like he was trying to conceal it.
“What was that?” You smirked, landing a larger, rougher slap to one side of his ass.
His face scrunched up before sucking in sharply.
“I didn’t hear you baby. What is it? Do you need more? You need more before I can even fucking hear you?!” Your words were forceful now. Challenging.
You violently shoved his hips down more so his ass was even more prominent. One after another, you began to plant harsh slaps until his cheeks were visibly more and more red. Loud moans now escaped his lips, growing in intensity with each smack.
Chan started panting heavily, letting out a small cry that only turned you on more.
“Fucking slut,” you muttered. “Like getting spanked by your own girlfriend? Like looking like a sloppy mess for me? Not even able to shut your fucking mouth and take it like a real man?” you taunted him. Hearing Chan’s cries getting louder and louder was all the confirmation you needed.
“Because you’re not, are you?” you chuckled, pulling your hands from him. You quickly pulled the strap on towards you to shimmy inside. You clicked the button to start the vibrator as you secured yourself in place.
“No, you’re not a real man…” you continued as you placed more lube into your hand. You tried to steady yourself as the new buzzing over your clit settled in, knocking you back the slightest bit. After regaining your footing, you went on.
“You’re just a tiny little hole who wants to be used, huh? Is that right?” You rubbed the lube along the length of the dildo strapped onto you. “You just wanna be used like the fucking slut you are?”
With that, you used one hand to place another solid smack over the redness that had already been formed, while using one lubed finger to push slightly into Chan’s asshole.
An auditory moan was heard as the wind was knocked out of him, feeling a sensation he’d never knew was possible. You let him adjust slightly before pulling out and pushing back in.
Chan relaxed his arms and let his face hit the mattress as you continued with your finger in him, growing faster and faster by the second.
Tiny whines of pleasure worked their way out of Chan’s throat with every stroke. He began to move his hips along with the motion, throwing his ass backward so you could reach deeper inside him.
“Ahh fuck,” he mumbled as you kept going.
“Goddamn, already cursing for me? That’s not a good sigh,” you tsked. “We’re just getting started,” you smiled. Deep panting was all you received in response.
“But the baby wants more, huh? Poor little baby,” you mocked. “You’re gonna get what you get then. And you better take it all without fucking complaining.”
Suddenly, you pulled out and brought a second finger to his whole, inserting them much quicker than you’d done with the first.
Underneath you, Chan gripped the bedsheets with his fists, settling with his mouth wide open and eyes rolled back, holding in any noise he possibly could.
“Ahhh, good boy. See, it isn’t that hard, is it?” you grinned again before beginning to ram your fingers into him quicker. You worked your way up, as fast as you could before curving your fingers into him.
With that, Chan couldn’t help himself. He let out the loudest, most ungodly moan you’d ever heard. Pure ecstasy in every last ounce of breath he put out. You could tell that he was doing all he could to not scream from the pleasure.
His reaction mixed with the tingly feeling that had washed over your clit by this point, got you to the point that you just couldn’t stand it anymore.
After giving him a few more pumps with curved fingers, you pulled out, running your hand along the shaft of the dildo again. He whimpered at the loss of contact, earning him another huge smack, essentially telling him to keep quiet.
“You still can’t shut the fuck up, can you? You like being degraded like this. I never knew my boyfriend was such a fucking whore.” Another slap.
“Now,” you continued, “we’re both gonna sit here until you start acting better and ask nicely for me to put this dick inside of you. And ask like you fucking mean it.”
Chan stilled for a moment, breathing heavily as if his brain was fogged over and he couldn’t comprehend what he needed to do. Slowly, he arched his back further, pushing his ass to the perfect angle. You both sat in silence for a few moments before soft words began to slur from Chan’s mouth.
“Please… will you fuck me?” he whispered timidly, his face the brightest shade of red.
“Maybe if you’d say it loud enough that I could FUCKING hear you!” you yelled, lining yourself up to him. You impatiently let the tip of the dildo circle around his outline. You brought your hands to his waist, grabbing onto him with the most force you could muster, taking him off guard.
Chan yelped loudly at the contact. “Please baby… PLEASE will you fuck me?” He cried out in desperation.
His pleas left you with a soft smile. “See, that wasn’t too hard now was it?” you excessively teased before pulling his waist back to force him down onto the dildo.
As quickly as it filled him, you felt it too. The insane increase in the vibration of the vibrator now rubbing up on the perfect spot on your clit. You let out a harsh moan at the feeling, enjoying this more than you’d thought possible.
“Ahh fuck baby,” you spat out, pulling your hips back before snapping them back in. The pressure was too good for you to handle.
All you could hear was Chris cursing under his breath and letting out the most guttural, obscene moans you’d ever heard. Like a symphony that had just died and been resurrected, unknown that life could take form like this.
He panted heavily, writhing in the sheets as you began to plow into him, faster and faster. Your hands gripped onto him so tightly that you were sure he’d have bruises. But that’s what you wanted. You needed him to slap into you as hard as possible. You needed to feel all of it.
“I’m not gonna-“ Chan tried to get out before pausing to let out a loud whine. “Fuck,” he cried, “I’m not gonna last much longer,” he admitted lowly, ashamed that he was already so close to being on the edge.
“Yes you are,” you smacked his ass again as you thrust in. You wrapped your arms swiftly around his waist to pull his torso upright. The dildo was still resting deep inside of him as his body came up, his back pressing into your chest. You squeezed him again, making sure he was pulled taunt to you before snaking a hand up to his throat.
“You are gonna last longer because I’m fucking telling you to. Is that clear? You’re not done until I cum. Stupid fucking whore,” you threatened, directly into his ear.
Your hips snapped up, not giving him a chance to answer. He could only let out the sweetest moan you’d ever heard.
As you began humping into him, you felt that prominent tingly feeling at your core. You knew if you kept this up, your orgasm would come sooner than you’d hoped. But you couldn’t stop pumping into him. It felt too fucking good. Your clit throbbed and your knees were about to give in, but nothing could hold you back now.
You grabbed Chan’s throat harder, squeezing it until you knew he’d have trouble getting steady breaths in and out. You used this as your vantage point to steady him as your other hand folded around his waist and down to his dick. You grabbed it into your hand quickly, not wasting any time.
He hissed as you began to quickly jerk him up and down while pounding into him, trying to focus on his breathing before giving in entirely.
You felt him clench down onto the dildo, putting more pressure onto it and the vibrator attached. You felt your inner thighs begin to twitch. Your own breathing began to falter out. You knew you needed to make the most of these last few moments.
“You are such a dirty fucking slut, you know that?” you whispered into his ear, licking it softly before turning his head toward you by his throat.
You connected your mouth to his, saliva going everywhere as you devoured him until the last second. Biting at him until you could taste blood. Choking him until he was gasping under you for air. Blood rushing to your head from the adrenaline and the sight of your boyfriend totally and completely at your mercy. Your bitch. Anything you wanted him to be.
You rammed his body down by his throat to push him into you harder, fucking into him with everything you had. Your hand was fast on his dick, working him up to the point that tears began to stream down his face.
“This is what you wanted,” you smiled, biting down on his shoulder. “Wanted to cry your fucking heart out to how good I could use you... Ahhh fuck,” you growled, the stimulation about to send you over.
“My sweet little baby Channie,” you whispered into his ear ever so lightly, placing one more kiss to it. So soft it was almost a tickle. You could taste the salty liquid that had spilled out of his eyes and had run across his face. Tears still coming down while your hand stifled his cries and moans.
“I know you want to cum,” you breathed out, fucking him with your hips and hand as fast as possible. “Cum for me baby. Let it all out,” you purred.
Suddenly, without your permission, your own body jolted, hitting your high. You began to convulse uncontrollably, sending shocks throughout your very core, leaving Chan with sporadic, trembling thrusts and shaky hands.
“Fuck Channie,” you cried, trying to ride out your own high, but almost passing out in the process. “Cum right fucking now. Right fucking now!” you yelled, not knowing if you’d be able to survive the overstimulation of fucking him any longer.
You let go of his throat long enough for him to take a deep gasp for air and cry out as he too began to shake around you. His limbs began to flail as his body gave out, screaming and crying as he lost control. Cum shot out of him with more force than it ever had, leaving his head spinning and mind completely numb.
Losing hold of him, he collapsed out of your arms, spasming the same as you as he tried to regain his sense of being.
You took a deep breath before collapsing next to him on the bed, heaving heavily until your breath came back to you. Chan was doing the same while covering his face with his hands, embarrassed again all of a sudden.
You gave him a moment to collect himself before leaning over to kiss his forehead and remove his hands. You placed a soft kiss to his nose while you held his hands in yours.
“How was it baby?” you smiled as you whispered.
“It was…” he contemplated finding the right word. “Insane,” he laughed, finally coming back to his normal self.
“Hopefully insane in a good way?” you cocked a brow toward him.
“Yes, in a good way.” He squeezed your hand before turning his head slightly to look up toward the ceiling, not making eye contact with you. He closed his eyes, chuckling to himself.
“You don’t really think I’m a ‘fucking slut’, do you?” he kept giggling, teasing the way you’d talked to him.
“Oh I do. I think you’re my fucking slut,” you lightheartedly winked. You brought your lips back to his as he smiled into the kiss, shaking his head back and forth.
“What am I gonna do with you now?” he laughed as he pulled back and brought you into his chest.
#bangchan smut#bangchan imagines#skz smut#stray kids smut#skz imagines#skz x reader#stray kids imagines#stray kids x reader#bangchan scenarios#bang chan#bangchan x reader#bangchan x female reader#bangchan x you#christopher bang#chris bang smut#chris bang#bangchan stray kids#bangchan#bangchan angst#chan skz#skz scenarios#skz#skz fanfic#skz angst
79 notes
·
View notes
Text
UNBELIEVABLE
KATSUKI BAKUGOU X CHUBBY READER
Mentions: Club, Virgin reader, Alcohol, Jealous kats, Fluff
Reblogs are appreciated <3
“ It’s unbelievable. I can’t believe she said yes! Ugh she’s the best” Kirishima said with his heart full of love. “Yeah Yeah Yeah we get it you have a girlfriend. Quit rubbing it in.” Denki replied, rolling his eyes. “ The rest of us are single as fuck.” Sero said. You felt defeated as well.
You like Katsuki Bakugou. Sure he’s loud, explosive, crazy, has a hard time expressing himself, and is reserved but you like all those and more traits are very cute. You know he has his own little ways of saying thank you, sorry, or that he cares. You like the way he laughs and smiles, which is rare. His cooking is amazing. You love the way he always pushes forward and doesn’t allow anything to stop him. You’re basically head over heels for this man. Little did you know he likes you just as much as you like him. It is so insane how neither of you knows it. The girls tell you and you always say “ You guys don’t make me delusional.” You thought that way because you didn’t consider yourself beautiful. You’re a chubby girl. You hate your stomach fat. You hate the stretch marks. You hate when you sit down, your fat rolls. Katsuki thought otherwise. He loves your stomach rolls, He loves the way your costume shows off your thighs. He thinks your stretch marks are cute. He always says he wants you to squeeze his head in between your thighs. He knows there's so much more to love. He wants and needs you so bad. He is willing to do anything for you to be his girlfriend. He's on his knees at this point.
As time went by you did notice yourself spending more time with him. He threw hints at you. You did miss a few but then connected the pieces later on.
“ Hey!! Come on dance with us!!!” Mina yelled over the loud music. You took your last 3 shots. “ Finally girl !!!” Momo yelled. You had 2 horrible weeks. You were desperate to have time off and have fun. You were all dolled up. You straighten your hair and put on simple makeup. The dress you wore was a bit short. It hugged you beautifully. The heels made you look even more sexier. Some guys were checking you out. Including Katsuki. You finally let yourself free. You danced like no one was there. Mina and Momo danced with you. A guy dances up behind you. He placed his hands on your waist. You couldn’t give 2 fucks. Katsuki was losing his mind. He was so jealous his small explosions said it all. The guy ran his hands down to your thighs. “When are you going to confess to her!? You’re dying right now! Go claim her!” Izuku said, smacking his head, over the loud music. Usually Katsuki would blow up at him but he was so focused on you. The topic. “ What if I just make her drift away!?” Katsuki asked. “Oh wow. I didn’t know that Katsuki Bakugou was such a loser!” Izuku said, knowing exactly what he was doing. “ Yeah what a pussy!” Kirishima yelled, pushing Katsuki’s button. He went to the dance floor and gave the guy a nasty stare. He was getting way too handsy. You only allowed it because you want experience. You’re a virgin, You never had a boyfriend before, zero dates, you haven’t even had your 1st kiss yet, you just started drinking like a month ago, and this is your 3rd time at a club. You dancing with a guy and a bit sexually is NEW. The man stood his ground against Katsuki. That didn’t stop the explosion boy. He leaned down to your height and kissed you. You gave in and kissed him back. The guy saw how you guys were making out. He left. You knew it was Katsuki you were making out with even though you were drunk. You danced the night away. 4:25am hit. “ Let's get out of here pretty.” Katsuki said. You nodded. When both got to his apartment it got crazy. He pushed you against the wall after he closed the door and locked it. You made out like it was the last time you’d see each other again. “ Mhm fuck.” He said carrying you up stairs. He set you on his bed. You giggled as he took your heels off. He smiled at your drunk self. Now Katsuki knows you're inexperienced. “ Kkaattss!” you yelled. “Yeah I’m here,” he replied. He respectfully was babysitting you as you showered. He stood facing the wall asking if you were good. After drying up and changing into clothes he lent he blew dry your hair and soon after that you were laying on his bed. Still drunk. He was surprised how you even managed to shower thoroughly. He then took his time to take a nice warm shower. “ Kats!” you laughed like an idiot then suddenly went quiet. Once he was changed he turned the lights off and got into bed. “You good?” he asked, playing with your hair. “ Wish. You- were h-herruu actuchily.”you said slurring your words. You touched his hair gently. He pecked your forehead.
The following morning you woke up to him holding you. “K-Katsuki?” you questioned. “Yeah?”he replied. “W-what am I doing here?” You lifted the sheets, fully clothed. You sighed in relief. “We didn’t do anything…It’s unbelievable,” he replied. “ What is-are you calling me a slut? That I’m easy or something!?” you said you were upset. “It’s unbelievable that you’ve always been in my heart and in my mind. Now you’re waking up here in my bed. You’re mine.” He replied holding you. You blushed. “ I like you so much, kats.” you confessed. “I like you so much Y/n.” he replied. You both felt complete and happy.
Why don’t we- unbelievable
#my hero academy fanfiction#my hero acedamia#my hero academia#kacchan#bakugo katuski#katsuki bakugou#bnha bakugou#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki#mha bakugou#katsuki x you#katsuki x reader#anime#fanfiction#bnha katsuki#bnha x fem!reader#bnha x reader#fanfic#bakugou x y/n#bakugou fluff#katsuki bakugo x reader#mha katsuki bakugo#katsuki bakugo mha#katsuki#bakugo#my hero academy fanart#bnha bakugo katsuki#bakugou x you#katsuki bakugo imagine#katsuki bakugo fluff
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
In My Mind, You are Safe
Chapter 4
Read on AO3
“Be safe,” Lance says, leaning down into the car enough that Fernando will hear him through his helmet. It is a bit like Deja vu, pulls at the dregs of a memory, Lance’s last moments in his own car that are still muddled.
Fernando glances up at him through his visor, nods, “Be back soon.”
It is a promise, soothes at the anxiety that prickles along Lance’s spine. Fernando is exceedingly careful in the car these days, in all the ways he can be when he’s doing 300 kph, because he knows Lance is sitting in the garage waiting for him.
Lance cannot race anymore, he’s prone to migraines, his right leg can’t withstand the force required to push down the pedal, the g-forces are a threat to his body that he’s so carefully spent a year putting back together. The FIA will not clear him, no matter how much money his father had tried to throw at them. Instead, Felipe has taken up permanent residence on what used to be his side of the garage - permanent until Yuki replaces him next year. The number 18 exists now only on the small decal Fernando has added to his own helmet, beside the victory cross. The gesture had only fueled the rumors about them, Lance being the first person Fernando greets when he gets out of the car now hadn’t helped.
They’re not subtle, but Lance has earned the luxury of not needing to be. Silverstone especially owes him this, considering it has tasted his blood, nearly claimed him like Lance was the sacrificial lamb brought to the alter. This was the race they had been preparing for, mentally, since Fernando first sat Lance down and explained he wasn’t ready to give up driving.
——————————————
There is an itch under his skin, one he can’t quite reach, when he sits behind a wheel - even if it is the leather wrapped wheel of his Aston Martin as he drives Lance to his physio appointment. His grip tightens around the brown leather, his foot presses harder on the pedal, Lance shoots him a look like he understands. Fernando thinks it looks a lot like jealousy.
They don’t talk about it, the F1 sized car that follows them like a backseat companion, the silent elephant in the room. But Fernando knows the further he pushes the gas, the more Lance looks like it physically pains him. He eases off, lets the speedometer drop back down to a safe range, grabs Lance’s hand that had been tensing around the fabric of his sweat pants and squeezes reassuringly.
Lance doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to, Fernando can see the tick of his jaw out of the corner of his eye and knows they are close to the breaking point anyway.
———————————
“I want to go back,” Fernando says over dinner, when Lance is chewing a mouthful of roasted veggies and cannot immediately bite back. He tries to be gentle about it, even as he sees Lance’s shoulders tense.
They have been toeing this for months, Fernando snapping because they’ve been stationary in his London home for too long and Lance snapping back because it’s his body that is broken, not Fernando’s, as he likes to point out with spitting frustration. There have been fights, small at first, growing in the past few weeks. Fernando tries not to be mean, but Lance is good at cutting to the bone. They’ve been sleeping in separate rooms.
Lance swallows, stays quiet, his grip on the fork in his hand goes white knuckled. He does not meet Fernando’s eyes, but instead stares down at his plate with resolute defiance.
“I have talked with Lawrence-.”
Lance scoffs, drops the fork so it clatters against the glass top of the dining table. It skitters across the surface before reaching the edge and falling to the ground. Last week it had been Lance’s plate, glass shards exploding across the wood flooring. They’d been fighting about something stupid, the dishes Fernando had left in the sink, a distraction from the conversation Fernando is starting now.
“Lance-.”
“Fuck you,” Lance spits, shoves back from the table with enough force it shifts along the floor, scrapes the hardwood. Lance has been leaving his mark on Fernando’s home like he is trying to prove that he is still there.
“Lance, please-.”
He’s speaking to the retreating back of the man, standing himself because Lance is heading for his room and he wants to stop him before he’s speaking to a locked door.
“Lance-.”
He gets one hand around Lance’s bicep, the fabric of his hoodie, before Lance is jerking away and turning to face him.
“Don’t,” he warns, eyes already dark with the promise of a fight, lips already twisted into a pained scowl. Fernando can see the hurt in his expression, hates that he’s the one to keep putting it there.
“Please, let me explain,” he pleads, reaching for Lance again, needing to soothe the pain from him.
Lance steps back, shakes his head, “Fuck you, Fernando.” His voice is thick, clogged, promises tears even if they haven’t appeared yet.
Fernando swallows back the rising tide of his own.
“You said you wouldn’t go back until I did. You said that.”
“I know-“
“So you’re a fucking liar.”
“No-“
“You talked to my dad. Behind my back. To what? Set up another contract? Was it easier to negotiate now that you could hold caring for me over his head?” Lance wants to hurt him, is trying, stabbing with brutal efficiency because he is tired of being the only one hurting. Fernando gets another hand on him, Lance jerks back away from it like he’s been burned. They’re standing in the living room with their dinner forgotten behind them and Fernando can see the tears forming in Lance’s eyes but he doesn’t know how to stop them anymore.
“I would never Lance, you know this.”
“Do I?”
“Lance-“
“Just stop! Stop. I don’t want to have this conversation with you. Go back to racing, I don’t fucking care. Crash your own car into the wall and then maybe you can join me here again.”
Fernando swallows, blinks, sees Lance’s blood seeping between his fingers in the millisecond of darkness. Lance is still bleeding, and Fernando cannot stop it.
When Lance walks away again Fernando lets him go, jumps at the sound of the door slamming and tries not to think of the way it sounds like an Aston Martin crunching into the concrete.
——————————————
Lance does not go with Fernando to his first race back. Instead, he flies to Montreal and cries in his mother’s arms when she opens the door to him.
He couldn’t drive himself here from the airport, the sun had been too bright and his head had hurt too much and so he’d been forced into the backseat of a tinted SUV and dropped off on his mother’s doorstep. He’s wearing Fernando’s jacket, stolen from his closest as a final fuck you, or maybe a promise that he would be back to return it. It smells like the man, makes the sharp stab in his gut hurt even more. When his mother answers the door he crumples.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she soothes, as Lance sobs in her arms and tries to ignore the throbbing pain in his leg.
Right now Fernando is probably sliding into his race suit. Right now he is thinking of plan A, thinking of winning. Right now he is speaking with Felipe who is driving Lance’s car, with Lance’s team. Lance wonders if Fernando will fuck Felipe too, tell him he’s doing a good job, crash into him and send his whole world spiraling out of control along with his car.
“It hurts,” he cries, unable to tell if he means his body, or his head, or the gaping hole Fernando has left in his chest. It’s all the same at this point, indistinguishable.
———————————
“My son is with his mother,” Lawrence accuses.
Fernando, hair still damp from his shower, skin still flushed from the podium, has the decency to look ashamed. It only makes Lawrence angrier.
“He flew to Canada. Alone.”
“He is cleared to fly, Lawrence-”
“I told you. If you stayed you better mean it. So why is my ex-wife telling me Lance was crying on her doorstep?”
Lawrence can be an intimidating man when he means to be, when Lance isn’t around to make him appear only as a doting father. He makes sure to stand to his full height, tower over Fernando in his temporary office in the Aston Martin motorhome. Claire had told him Lance had only just fallen asleep, after the migraine pills had soaked in enough to make the rest come easier. She’d FaceTimed him while she was lying with Lance in his bed, the brown tufts of Lance’s hair just barely visible from where he was passed out in Claire’s lap. When she spoke, it had been in a berating hush.
Fernando must know about the flight, he doesn’t look shocked to hear Lance is not where he left him.
“I don’t know how to fix this,” he admits, hangs his head. “Racing, I am good at. It is what I know.”
“Yeah. It’s what Lance knew too.”
Fernando jerks like he’s been punched, looks up at Lawrence with shame and hurt.
“I wanted him to come back. I want him in the car beside me. I thought- I wanted to think he could.”
Both he and Lawrence know it’s a lie, both knew there was no chance of Lance racing again. Delusion could only go so far, and the scar on Lance’s abdomen was too large to ignore. When Fernando had asked for his seat back, Lawrence had given it to him on the condition that Lance agree. Instead, Lance is in Canada and Fernando is alone.
He’s wearing a hoodie that’s too big for him, is clearly one of Lance’s, Lawrence almost demands it back. But he is not cruel, and Fernando is hurting in much the same way his son is.
“I told you it wouldn’t be easy,” Lawrence sighs, “he’s stubborn, you’re hardheaded.”
“He is upset I came back,” Fernando mumbles, “I do not blame him.”
“He’s hurt that you could,” Lawrence corrects, places a hand on Fernando’s shoulder. It might be a comfort, or a threat, he isn’t sure which yet.
On the FaceTime Claire had demanded he fix this, while her hand was soothingly working its way through the tangled strands of Lance’s hair. He’s still trying to decide just how he’s going to do that. Fernando has been his friend, someone who he once would have trusted his son’s life with, and now he is the man who has nearly ripped Lance away from him, who Lance loves.
“You have time before the next race?” He asks, less of a question, more of a demand that he make the time.
Fernando thinks it over, nods.
“Book a flight to Montreal.”
——————————————
Lance sleeps a lot now, has little else to do to pass the time. He sleeps because the sheets he’s wrapped up in smell like home, because when his mom sits beside him he feels small and safe, because when he dreams it is the one place he can still be behind the wheel.
He dreams of winning, and wakes to the soured taste of failure. In the end, everyone was right, Lance is not a victor and he will never prove them wrong.
At some point he falls asleep and wakes to Fernando pressing a kiss to his temple, isn’t sure if he’s still dreaming. The scratch of his stubble, the scent of him, like rubber and pine, is strong enough that Lance chases it. His head lifts, his eyes flutter open, and Fernando is staring back at him.
“Nando?” He asks, groggy, reaching a hand blindly for Fernando and finding himself slightly startled when it meets his chin and doesn’t phase through. Sometimes he dreams of chasing Fernando, in the car, or on legs that sometimes don’t support his weight, watching the man slip out of his grasp when he does manage to catch him.
Fernando grabs his hand with his own, leans into Lance’s touch where he’s cradling his cheek. He’s kneeling beside Lance’s bed, in a position that would have Lance aching in two seconds if he tried it. Sometimes it’s funny to remember that Fernando is the older of the two of them. Ironic that Lance is the one who complains of sore joints now.
“Hey, churri,” Fernando greets, smiles softly. In the morning light filtering through Lance’s closed blinds his smile is muted, doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
The nickname is sweet, soothes over the cracked edges of Lance’s ripped open chest.
“How was the race?” He asks, as the last bits of sleep keep his mind foggy, makes him forget to be angry. Instead he is focused on how warm Fernando feels, on the fact that he is wearing one of Lance’s favorite hoodies - the one with the string pulled out because Lance had messed with it so much it had become frayed, made more sense just to remove it entirely.
Fernando grimaces, shakes his head, “I will tell you later.”
“Okay.”
“Can I lay here?” He nods at the sliver of empty space on the twin mattress behind Lance.
Lance nods, closes his eyes because his head is starting to ache again and sleep is the only way to stop it. Water too maybe, if he bothered to stay hydrated enough.
Fernando climbs onto the mattress beside him, nuzzles his nose against the nape of Lance’s neck and presses another stubble rough kiss there. His arm wrapped around Lance’s waist is gentle, hand splaying across his scarred abdomen like he’s trying to protect him from further harm.
Lance feels him breathe, the warm press of him along his back. It lulls him quickly back into unconsciousness.
———————————
Lance’s shirt rides up enough in his sleep that when Fernando wakes it’s to the rough edges of his scar against Fernando’s calloused fingers. Gross fascination has him tracing it, all the way up until he meets the end of it just below Lance’s ribs. He can feel the ghost of Lance’s heartbeat here, hear him snoring softly in his sleep. It’s healed now, the wound, which means that Fernando has not seen it since he stopped having to change the bandages. Lance doesn’t like him looking at it, avoids seeing it himself.
They stopped showering together, and they haven’t slept together since Lance’s accident. Fernando blames himself partly for the latter. Despite how much he wants to, he is afraid to hurt Lance further. Instead, he jerks off in the solitude of his room now and bites his hand to stop Lance’s name from spilling out of him.
“You don’t fuck me anymore,” Lance had complained one night, before the fighting had them sleeping separately, and Fernando hadn’t disagreed.
He is scared, afraid of the damage he has already caused, terrified of wreaking more. The scar under his fingers is proof, unfading, permanent, makes him feel sick with guilt.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers and presses another kiss to Lance’s neck. Lance has told him to stop apologizing, but he doesn’t think he could ever say it enough to absolve himself.
Lance will never race again, and Fernando is already back in the car. Because he is selfish, because he does not know how to sit still, because racing is all he knows and in caring for Lance he is scared he has only hurt him further.
Lance moans in his sleep, shifts back further against Fernando. Fernando holds him, fully, wholly, and hopes it will be enough.
—————————
“If you want me to stop, I will,” he says to Lance later, when they are sitting in the sunroom of Lance’s mother’s house. It’s warm only because of the heater set to high, the snow piling against the windows doing little to help.
Lance, bundled in a blanket and a beanie on the couch beside Fernando, stares at him. Looks hurt for only a second before his brows furrow and it becomes anger.
“What?”
“I’ll retire, if you want me to, I will do it,” he means it as a gesture of trust, as proof that he does not want to lose what they have. Even if not being in the car would make him a little crazy, even if he would always yearn for it.
Lance stares at him. He pulls the blanket tighter around himself, ducks down further into the fabric. It’s the comforter pulled from his bed, dark blue with grey stitching. Fernando wonders if it’s the same bedding he slept under as a teenager. Wonders if this is what Lance might have looked like when he occupied this space as a child.
“You mean more, Lance. More than racing, you know this.”
He isn’t sure what to expect but Lance’s response of, “Go fuck yourself, Nando,” certainly wasn’t at the top of his list.
“You don’t get to put this on me. Retire if you want, but don’t blame me for it.”
“That is not what I meant-“
“Yes it is, of course it is, because you don’t want to stop. You know you don’t. You just want me to tell you to and I’m not going to trap you here. I won’t be responsible for that.”
Fernando watches him, watches as the dim sunlight through the clouds catches the shine of tears in his eyes. Watches as Lance pulls the blanket impossibly tighter, like he’s trying to vanish inside of It. He wants to reach out, pull Lance to him, but is scared to shatter the feeble ground they’re resting on. Too many conversations between them have turned to arguments these past few weeks.
“Because it fucking sucks, man,” Lance sniffles, wipes at his eyes with the fabric of the comforter, “being on the other end, knowing you’re done. I won’t do that to you.”
But I did it to you, Fernando thinks. I did this.
Lance’s blood will not wash off his hands, will not stop dripping through his fingers. He is pressing as hard as he can and Lance is still looking up at him with fear blown eyes and a silent plea. He is mouthing Fernando’s name and all that is coming up is crimson that stains his lips.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispers into the quiet space of the sunroom. More of you because so much has already been taken by Fernando’s own hands.
“I won’t tell you to retire. Please don’t make me.”
“What do we do then?”
Lance shrugs, muffles his response against the comforter he folds further into, “I don’t know.”
———————————
Fernando races in Jeddah and Lance stays in Canada. His mind is scattered, unfocused, thinking of a kiss in the fresh snowfall that had felt like goodbye. Which is maybe why he taps the wall on lap 6 and ends his race in the barriers of turn 23.
Lance is the first missed call on his phone when he gets back to the garage. He calls him back immediately.
“Are you okay?” Lance asks, answering after two rings, sounding panicked in a way that is new. Fernando hates it, hates how he can hear the hitch in Lance’s voice.
“I’m fine, cariño, don’t worry. It was small.”
Lance sighs, shaky across the line, “you’re sure?”
“Already cleared by medical. About to go to the media pen now.”
Lance should know this, if he’d been watching as he so clearly had he would have seen how insignificant of a crash it was. Barely anything.
“But the wheel snapped hard, your hands-“
“Lance, I am okay. Promise.”
A bit sore maybe, from the straps digging into his chest, but no more than he’s already used to. Lance still sounds worried, his breath still hitching.
“Lance?”
“Sorry- fuck. Sorry,” he sniffles and it’s a wet sound, thick with snot.
“Baby,” Fernando soothes, feels the familiar guilt at the back of his mouth.
“I’m sorry. I don’t- I don’t know what’s happening,” Lance continues, breathing worsening. “I thought- it was- I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Lancito. You’re okay. Breathe baby, is okay.”
He’s standing with his race suit around his hips in the garage, hadn’t even made it to the privacy of his drivers room because he didn’t think this would be much of a phone call at all. His handler is standing in the back trying to flag him down for the media duties he’s probably currently missing. Lingering engineers keep shooting him confused looks. Lance is panicking on the other end of the line though, safe in Canada wrapped in the security of his childhood blanket and it still isn’t enough to quell his choked breathing.
“Lance. Listen to me. Please. I am okay.”
“O-okay.”
“Completely fine. Some bruising maybe, but is all.”
“Okay.”
“Do you want me to come home, you can see yourself?”
Home meaning to Lance, he doesn’t care whose house it is, as long as it’s Lance who’s opening the door for him.
There’s static on the other end of the line, Lance’s muffled hyperventilating and then, “Y-yeah. Yes, please.”
“Okay, let me finish up here and I’ll get on the next flight. It’s alright. All okay.”
“Okay,” Lance repeats.
Fernando thinks of blood, Lance who’d been choking on it, how Lance wouldn’t have been there to pull him from the wreckage if that’s what it had come to. He wonders if Lance is thinking the same thing.
“Breathe,” he commands one last time, waits until he can hear Lance drawing air into his lungs, and then promises to be home soon. In the media pen he is short, curt, excuses himself with a speed that is unlike him off the track and then rushes back to his drivers room to change. His assistant has already booked him a flight and sent the details to Lance, all handled while Fernando was explaining to SkySports how he had ended his race in the wall.
He thinks about retiring on the plane, has a text to Lawrence drafted, but can’t bring himself to hit send. After all, the crash hasn’t scared him, just made him hungry for the chance to do better in the next race.
————————
Lance doesn’t remember his crash, not outside of the YouTube footage and Fernando’s own account. He doesn’t remember being scared, feeling his body failing him as he bled out steadily on the gravel. But he maybe feels the ghost of it when Fernando crashes.
He tastes copper at the back of his throat, far enough back that it can’t be blamed on split skin when he bites at his bottom lip too hard. They replay the crash, slow it down to discuss the details and Lance feels sick.
He calls Fernando, even though he knows the man is still in the car, only just climbing out of it, and swallows down vomit when it goes to voicemail.
It’s only the front wing that’s damaged, buried in the tire wall. And Lance can see that, but he can’t stop shaking anyway.
His mother sits with him, holds his hand while Lance tries to breathe around his tears. It is perhaps the most vulnerable he’s been with her since he was a child, with anyone, usually trying to hide away on his own before he breaks down. But the panic coursing its way through him glues him to the couch and then keeps him there long after he’s off the phone with Fernando.
He drifts in and out of sleep, takes pills that are offered to him and sips water from a glass with shaky hands when it’s pressed to his lips. At some point someone brings him food, crackers and fruit that he picks at numbly before growing disinterested and falling back asleep.
When he wakes up next it’s with a pounding headache and to the darkness of night. His phone is the only light, bright and harsh, making him squint as he paws for it on the coffee table.
There are two missed calls and six texts from Fernando, the last of which reads ‘here’ and sent two minutes ago.
Lance, barefoot and in a thin sleep shirt, stumbles to the front door with blind relief. Throws it open, despite the snow and the harsh wind, and then flings himself into Fernando’s arms.
“See,” Fernando soothes, cradles the back of Lances head, “All okay.”
————————
“I will retire at the end of the year,” Fernando promises, once they’re back indoors and warming themselves by the fire started by the staff and left running for Lance’s benefit.
They’re curled up on the couch, Lance having stripped Fernando of his shirt so he can inspect the bruises left behind by the straps of the car. Fernando sits with his back sinking into the plush pillows beneath him and Lance sits straddling his lap. He’d buried his face in the crook of Fernando’s neck after inspecting him, ensuring the bruises were just that, and then cried silently while Fernando traced patterns along the ridges of his spine. And then they’d stayed like that because Lance had gone slack against him and his breathing had evened out.
“Give me the year, yes? And then I am done.”
He’d thought about it on the ride from the airport to here, fingers picking at the edge of his phone and biting the inside of his cheek. He’d weighed the cost of his career against the cost of losing Lance and found that F1 would never win in the end. Besides, there was always endurance racing, other series he could entertain himself with. Other things Lance could maybe even take part in. He’s thinking about taking Lance karting, loops around a track, just the two of them, where Lance can maybe start to build back toward something. Because he knows Lance is the same as him, deep down, misses the feel of a wheel in his hand in the same way Fernando had during his brief breaks. When you are raised on it, when it is the only thing you know, you grow to miss the taste of it.
Even if the taste has gone sour with fear.
“One more year?” Lance asks, chapped lips moving against the soft part of Fernando’s neck, “That’s what you want?”
“I want you, Lance. That’s it. It is not the same if you’re not there.” Which is true, Felipe does not race the same, is not as sensitive to the finer bits of the car, does not have the same easy presence that Lance had. It all feels wrong, not at all like the team Fernando had signed on to, even most of Felipe’s engineers are new. And sure, their results are better, but only barely. Lance could drive the car to its limit, Felipe is still too reserved.
The grid is changing as a whole too, enough that Fernando finds himself searching for familiar faces in a sea of strangers. But being here with Lance is easy, feels right, even if the man is heavy against him and the weight of him is making the bruises on his chest ache.
He would hurt for Lance, do anything for Lance, knows that it isn’t the car he wants to be with in ten years time, but the man in his lap. Lance has been here just as long as racing has almost, once as a child who had clung to his father and looked at Fernando with adoration, now as someone who Fernando would consider an equal. He means just as much as a championship might, more maybe.
“It’s you. Always you, okay?”
The car can crash, Fernando will always pull Lance out.
————————
Lawerence has been working his whole life to make Lance smile, and yet it is still Fernando that manages it so easily. Fernando who wins in Silverstone, who stands on the top step of the podium and showers first Max and Charles in champagne, and then turns to douse the crowd below him. It is Lance he aims for, stood beside Lawerence and beaming up at Fernando as the champagne spray showers them in sticky drops.
Lawrence watches his son, the way he cheers Fernando’s name with the crowd, the way he’s sporting Fernando’s team cap backwards on his head, the new one, with the 18 embroidered along Alonso’s number. Because it is not just himself the man is racing for this year, but Lance as well.
The FIA hadn’t wanted to allow the duel numbers at first, but while Lawerence could not buy Lance his health back, he could do this. So 18 finishes next to 14 on the podium, because both numbers are present on Fernando’s suit as well. It is Fernando who will earn the points, but it is Lance who Fernando celebrates.
Lance laughs beside him, and Lawrence cherishes the sound, lets it replace the fading memory of a heart monitor and silence. He lets the champagne soak into his suit, watches it coat Lance’s hoodie and Fernando, and he envisions it soaking away the blood that was spilled here a year ago. Envisions crimson giving way to sweet champagne and the audible sound of Lance calling Fernando’s name.
Fernando is no longer hooking a finger around Lance’s pinkie, praying he wakes up, afraid to touch any other part of him, instead he has slid a metal band onto his ring finger and it glints in the sunlight.
It is nearly as bright as Lance’s smile.
#it is done :)#also this too was written on my notes app#stuck at my parents without my laptop so this is the result#I actually am very proud of this#reviews very much appreciated because this one took a lot out of me tbh#strollonso#strollonso fic#formula 1#lance stroll#fernando alonso
52 notes
·
View notes
Text
DEALER!BARRY X SPOILED!READER X DEALER!RAFE <3
you get too “spoiled” when with your boyfriends — barry and rafe!
˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚
it was the weekend, meaning it was time for shopping spree at the mall! strolling around the coach store of your favorite big building, you struggle to choose which bag your boyfriends would pay for. behind you they walked, talking while watching you happily trudge in front of them. “blueberry or cherry?” you ask holding them both up next to you, posing with them in your pink tracksuit . “you can get both of em mama.” barry tells you and rafe looks at him, “she doesn’t need both, you spoil her too much.” barry rolls his eyes, “s’not like we can’t afford it big bruh, if she wants it she can have it.” you squeal at his retort, and hug him. “thank you bear!” giving him an attack of kisses on his cheek. rafe sighs “that’s not the point. you know how bratty she gets when she thinks she can have anything she wants. don’t act surprised when she throws a tantrum cause she can’t have something.”
“mhm.” barry says walking to the other shelf of jewelry with you, looking back at rafe and stick your tongue at him and say “bleh!” he furrows his eyebrows and power-walks toward you, shrieking at his scariness, you run and hide behind barry.
after shopping, you arrive home at tannyhill. “thank you rafe!” giving him a kiss for funding half the shopping spree “thank you bear!” you give your other boyfriend a kiss for the other half of funding and take your bags up to your room, placing them in your walk in closet.
later on a friday, your sitting on the couch with rafe, watching tv while he scrolls through his phone. bored you say “rafey can we go to the mall? I smelt this miss dior perfume last week and I really liked it but we never bought it.” he doesn’t look up from his phone. “no. we already went this week, no need to go for a while.” you pout at him “no but I really need it! im going somewhere with-“ he cute you off “what i just say huh? no. getting so fuckin bratty this early in the morning..” you look at him with a vexed face and you mumble. “I bet barry would take me..so infuriating”
rafe looks up at you from his phone. “what’d you say?” trying to escape the scene, you get up and walk to the the kitchen telling him, “s’nothing!”
“what i fucking thought.” he says quietly but harsh enough for you to hear. barry comes home later at night finding rafe in the kitchen opening a can of beer. “yo country club.” he looks for you and doesn’t see you with rafe as you usually are at this time, he asks ” where’s our girl?” rafe chuckles “sleeping off the badass little attitude she had today.”
barry, confused on what attitude you could possibly have, “what’d she do?” sighing, rafe shoots him a look “she started acting like a fucking brat cause I told her she can’t go to the mall again as if we didn’t go this week already. it’s because of you she thinks she can always have her way.”
barry had always been the one to be the most lenient with you, he loved you and would do anything to protect his girl. and of course rafe loves you as well and would do more than anything for you, but someone had to keep you in check and it was always rafe. “well come talk to her with me then. we’ll set her straight.” you wake up to barry picking you up by the armpits, blinking awake and rubbing your eyes with your manicured nails , “mm hi bear..”
“hey princess, we gotta talk so let’s go downstairs and get something t’a eat alright?” he readjusts the satin bonnet sliding off your head, you nod at him still sleepy. gaining energy you sit on the island of your kitchen while barry fixes you some milk and and a grilled cheese. rafe stands in front of you, you roll your eyes following from the earlier argument. he jerks his head back from the sudden sass, “don’t roll your eyes at me, you know your manners.“ he looks back at barry, “ you-you see what im talking about right? she’s getting too fucking rude. what is it, you need some dick? what’s with the attitude?” you look at him with all seriousness in your face “I wanted to go to the mall rafe!” he breathes hard through his nose. “im fed up with you. barry go talk some sense into that girl before i bend her over the table i swear.” barry turns the stove off, finishing your grilled cheese and cuts it diagonally placing it next to you with a glass milk. “what’s going on going on sweet girl? I hear you throwing tantrums round’ this house, what’s that about?” you pout at him “rafes being mean t’me saying I can’t go shopping!”
“well you know if we tell you something your supposed to listen even if it’s something you don’t wanna hear.” he tilts his head at you “hm? now why don’t you gone head and apologize to polo boy over there f’me.” you look up at him and huff, turning your back to rafe sitting on the couch you shout “rafe could you come over here please!” he rises from his seat and walks over to you, “don’t yell in the fucking house. what is it? you gonna apologize for the way you been acting?” you nod, “mhm i just wanted to say m’sorry daddy. I didn’t mean to be a brat, you just get me nice things all the time, and i guess I got carried away! it won’t happen again, promise!” holding up your pinky finger to pinky promise your boyfriend, rafe chuckles, interlocking his pinky with yours. “thanks for the apology baby, your gonna be a good girl for the rest of the week right?” he says nodding his head waiting for you to agree, “mhm.”
barry interjects, “well I think our pretty girl deserves a reward for being a big girl today right?” and rafe bows his head in a agreeing motion diving in to kiss you deeply from the right side of your body. your other boyfriend on your left, slides his rough hands on your thighs. “open your legs f’me mama.” you split your legs apart revealing the wet spot on your pink laced panties and through your thin shorts. barry takes off your short sleeping pants as well as your panties, letting the shorts drop to the floor, he puts your pink lace into his pocket. bending down he kisses you up from your calfs, up to your knees and to your inner thighs. “you gone let me make you feel good angel?” you nod frantically through rafes kisses. barry hooks his biceps under your thighs to bring you now soaked cunt closer to his face. “you smell so fuckin sweet for daddy, love this pussy.” he spits on your bud, sucking it harshly, making you squirm around the table. you whimper into rafes mouth from the intensity of barry’s lapping. rafe lifts up your shirt exposing your breasts and starts to pinch your nipples, with a different hand he unbuckles his pants. he grabs your hand and pulls out his cock letting you stroke his length. whispering “fuck..” under his breath, you paw at him faster. you shiver when barry thrust his tongue into your wet cunt, he takes his tongue out and shoves two fingers in and the other hand rubbing furiously at your clit. you take the one hand you have left and grip at rafes shirt from the extreme stimulation of your cunt. “be a good girl and come for daddy.” your boyfriend below you says, finishing you off. you arch your back, “mmph!” stuttering into rafes mouth, he lets go of your moistened lips, his dick standing tall from your jerking at it. hiccuping you say “that felt so g-good daddy.. I want you in me now please!”
“course mama.” barry gets up and lifts you off the counter, guiding you to the couch in the living room, you take rafes hand and he follows behind you. barry unbuttons his pants and his cock springs out, average height but so unbelievably thick. he sits on the couch and pulls you close to him, you hover over him letting him position his dick into your slick cunt. sinking down he praises you, “goood girl. shit, you taking me so well angel.” you mewl at him “mm it’s so big daddy!” rafe watches the scene and stands in front of you, gripping your jaw to force you to look up at him. “you wanna make daddy feel good too right?” you nod frantically and he lets go of your face, holding up his cock with one hand he slaps it on your cheek and positions it into your mouth. he thrusts his cock into your mouth making you choke, gripping your neck to make your gullet feel tighter. behind you, barry’s fucking up into your cunt with wet sounds heard all around the living room. it makes your head spin and clench harder around his cock “you doing so well for us princess, see how being a good girl gets you a reward?” you can’t answer with your throat being used but you do agree. “this fucking mouth..god you feel so good.” choking, as rafe speeds up the pace, he releases his warm load deep into your throat, thrusting as deep as he can to make it stick. “you better swallow all of it sweetheart..shittt..” he takes his cock out your mouth looking at your face. he grabs you face again “stick out your tongue.” you do as your told, showing him your empty mouth, cum nowhere to be seen but in your stomach. “good girl.” your eyes are half lidded and you smile up at him, still getting pounded from behind. “f-fuck daddy your going too hard..” barry smacks your ass, a firm slap that makes you flinch “don’t say that shit.” you sob at the harsh tone. “m’sorryyy daddy, your just hitting it so deep!”
“yeah I know mama..im bout to finish.” he puts in his last brutal thrust. plap-plap-plap and you cry at the rapid pace, taking your hands and placing them on barry’s thighs, a weak attempt to slow him down. looking up at rafe he tells you to “move your fucking hands.” you flinch, removing them and instead you reach your hands out to rafe, interlocking your hands together. barry at his climax, nuzzles his dick deep into your pussy, burrowing his warm cum into your pussy. “mm felt so good..both make me feel so g-good, oh goddd!” twitching when barry pulls out your cunt, he gets up from under you. they both admire you as the cum leaks out from your abused pussy. “what a fucking view..” after they finish using you, rafe lifts you up “let’s get you cleaned up sweetheart, did so good.” barry cleans up the pillows knocked off from this whole affair and goes to the kitchen, putting your grilled cheese in the microwave for you to eat tomorrow. your boyfriends both clean you up in the tub, they wash you off and clean out the load still buried in your cunt. they change you into one of their shirts, placing you in the shared bed you lay between them. you mumble as you drift to sleep “bear and rafey..can I go shopping now?” they both chuckle at you still acting like spoiled brat. “sure sweet girl.” as you fall asleep in their arms.
<3
#obx smut#rafe x reader <3#barry x reader <3#barry obx#rafe cameron#rafe outer banks#rafe x black reader#barry is such a sweetiekins in this I love him and rafes mean ass#me when I don’t get my way#outer banks#rafe smut#rafe imagine#barry outer banks
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
man how do you tell someone you literally do not have the emotional bandwidth to deal with their breakdown
#Like. Hey stop sending me emotionally manipulative texts I keep having panic attacks when I see them <3#stop calling me 5 times in a row when it’s almost midnight and I have work tomorrow#like I /do/ care about you but I fuxking /cant/ with this#don’t text me shit like ‘I’m jealous that you can engage in your interests bc I don’t think I’ll ever be able to again’#bro I am GRASPING at the small amounts of comfort drawing and spn are giving me rn what do you want me to DO#I know I shouldn’t ghost#but that’s what I’ve been doing and I just.#fuck me dude I’m trying to put my focus towards finding jobs to apply to. Towards actually making my hours at my#Current job#bc I have family memebers dying and I need to visit them and the family that is around#Ugh I’m just. Maybe this would’ve gone differently if I wasn’t on the fucking brink already#but I am and I can’t and I cannot be the person you’re obsessed with#Anyways I’m on my lunch break crying in a park and I just want to stop existing#lea speaks#can’t wait to go back and work until 7 bc that’s the only way I can think to make my hours to visit my brother next week#Vent
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
(Disclaimer: this is just a repeat shower thought I’ve been struggling to put into words)
There’s something about stories where the happy ending is only obtained through a fourth wall break that I just find incredibly unsatisfying. I get the idea is supposed to be like “this happy ending is obtained because of your hard work,” but when the player hasn’t really been an acknowledged factor in the story before that point, it ends up feeling less like a victory for me and more like a happy ending isn’t actually possible for the characters without the author showing their hand. Like, the characters growth and wills aren’t actually enough to win, but the author likes them so they’re just gonna let them get the win anyways. I want the characters’s victory to be the one that’s actually in story if that makes sense
On the flip side of that, it is so satisfying to watch a character go “if the laws of this universe get in the way of my happy ending, then I will simply rewrite them.”
#honkai impact#honkai rambling#I am legally obligated to mention Madoka Magica once per every Honkai ramble#but Honkai actually did do the second trope well twice#I just like for characters to have autonomy#let them make their own ideal world without my influence#I’m just here for the ride and to mash buttons#another series that does the second trope in a fun way is surprisingly Fairy Tail#it’s not good in the deep narrative sense#but it is very fun to watch a bunch of feral wizards go-#‘laws of magic? laws of the government? I don’t give a shit. you fuck with my family and I’ll fuck up your face’#and just to try and see what ridiculous thing they’ll try and top themselves with next week#not gonna tag nier automata for the first one cuz I haven’t actually played that game#I’ve just watched my housemate play it#but I remember finding the credit shooting happy ending incredibly stupid
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
-
#hello everyone how are you?#I hope everything is doing alright! from my part I can say life is treating me well lately#and I feel very light and okay#I am here mainly to get things straight#I saw an anon going around some other blogs talking about me#saying I am an hater and I shouldn’t be writing larry fics#I think this is the same anon that I blocked some weeks ago#because they told me I should not use Harry for clout (????)#and I want to say only one thing because I don’t care of defending myself on this website anymore and that is#it’s not clout and it’s not easy#being a (new) writer here is not easy because people don’t care what you do and there is definitely not clout around me#im not using harry to gain anything#if anything I am constantly questioning whether I am somehow good at writing silly stories and putting myself out there for people’s judg#*judgement. and I promise you it’s not always nice#especially when this place doesn’t like people who you don’t always agree with#especially when you are blocked by half of this side of fandom (larries because I had said something in the past that they didn’t like)#louies because im a larrie ergo I hate louis (???) and harries because i dont care about Harry as much as they do#so no I am not ashamed of writing and I am not ashamed of writing giving my characters#(that rarely have anything to do with H/L irl) thei#their names and physical features#and honestly people like you anon should definitely stop to play this stupid game of fandom police#deciding who can read what and who can write what#because this actions only affect new writers in the way that#they will be alienated. they will feel alienated#and this whatever this fandom is shouldn’t be about that#ever. you don’t know what people go through every fucking day#you definetely dont know how this sort of silencing mission you have going on#will affect people on the internet and their mental health#stop defending the imaginary people you think H/L are and start treating people in this fandom as actual human beings#and since you probably would like to know this: I am not currently working on any project because i am fucking scared of reaction like this
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
seriously though i really do prefer going away sex over coming home sex 😮💨
#personal#like yes baby take this pussy with you#get it fresh in your head to remember while you’re away#want you daydreaming about this fuck yes#I don’t hold back with going way sex I let him have everything#Husband is going away until Friday#rip me keep me in your thoughts lol#I’m alone with the beans and while I am most of the time I’m actually quite anxious#but anyway thinking about baby bucky giving his daddy the boy pussy of his LIFE the night before he leaves for a week#his little baby talk of ‘are you gonna think about my p-pussy while you’re away?’#‘make it hurt Daddy wanna feel it want you to leave me achy’#😤😤😤😤😤
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
hm. i think i am going to stop going to counseling. he does not understand me. he pathologizes things that are not pathological.
#purrs#the premises of counseling / therapy are that you need to have boundaries and be self sufficient and fully healed. FUCK THAT! relationships#are not transactions. we are allowed to need each other. we are allowed to blur lines. we are human and messy. our thoughts and feelings are#PRECIOUS. im not letting go of my thoughts they mean EVERYTHING to me they are the key to the WORLD. im not letting go of redacted why on#EARTH would i stop redacteding to redacted that is HELPFUL for me. i don’t CARE about the roots. who the fuck is it hurting????? NO ONE!!!!!#the way he flat out told me he agrees with my mom. bitch im done forever. im done literaly forever. i don’t know how to tell him but im done#forever. maybe it’s just my id which is what he said to me LMFAO and like maybe i just don’t like being uncomfortable or facing hard truths.#but i don’t fucking think it’s TRUE!!!!!!!!!! yeah i need to grow yeah i have unhealthy behaviors. but i don’t need to let go of the whole#THING bc of some arbitrary transactional concept of what relationships are supposed to be / mean. ive NEVER had a counselor try to uproot th#the whole damn thing like omg what is WRONG with you. i#im paying this man $25 a week to UNDERSTAND me and not ONCE have i felt understood by him. counselors can disagree with me but i literally#never feel like he is on my side. he’s adhering to conventional ideas about what parents are supposed to be and friends are supposed to be a#and work is supposed to be etc etc. and so patronizingly said just enjoy being 23 you don’t wanna waste your 20s! FUCK YOU. i will not#regret anything even if it’s unusual. FUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!#and also i know he probably watches back thru the recordings and has like his supervisor and professors watch them too which means that#there is a whole team of scientists + my family studying me in a lab and thinking im insane and finding ways to tell me. but fucking bold of#him to assume he can give me any meaningful valuable insight when he is actively checking his laptop / phone during our sessions and rarely#if eve gives me a chance to drive MY OWN CONVERSATION THAT IM PAYING FOR and is so phony abt being on the recording. like Omg. maybe im just#grown out of it. it fucking SUCKS bc i actually have things i am not normal about and really need help with and i can’t actually get help fr#from ppl whose job it is to fucking help me bc they think im not normal about things i PROMISEEEE i am normal about. and the way i effective#effectively told him that and he responded that he can’t take that credibly bc there’s no action behind it BY WHICH HE MEANS I HAVENT#STOPPED REDACTEDING TO ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT REDACTED IN MY WHOLE LIFE? THAT I HAVENT DECIDED IM DONE LEARNING SND GROWING AND CUT IT#OFF?????? DO YOU FUCKING HEAR YOURSELF. INSANE. the ANTITHESIS of human. we are MEANT TO BE CONNECTED. FUCK!!!!!!!!!#delete later#my old counselors challenged me and disagreed with me b it i never felt like they flat out were unwilling to meet me where i am and#compromise with me. is that not what counselors are supposed to do???? or have i just had bad counselors until now??? because im NORMAL. i#swear to fucking god. im normal. im literally normal and it is not doing ANYONE harm. what is wrong with you. GOD
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
my lowkey stalker saga continues… they switched their days off to match both mine and wait for me by the door after our shift every night :)))))
#the way if they were a cis man I would be TERRIFIED FOR MY LIFE#but this person probably ways like 70 lbs and looks like an 11 year old so shbchfhe#I had to sneak away and circle the blocks a few times waiting until I felt I could safely go home w/o seeing them#don’t forget this person livES IN MY BUILDING#can u tell I’m starting to lose it#I’m going to give it a solid week of just straight up being an asshole and ignoring/avoiding the fuck out of them#and if it still doesn’t stop I might mention it to my managers when I hand in my notice next month (unrelated lol)#diary of lord edge
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Making a food spreadsheet.. (actually I had one last year but it was terribly unintuitive so I just neglected it most of the time. you live and you learn) it’s gonna have interactive checkboxes >:) best google sheets function fr
#Here’s the thing right. There are few things in life that don’t need a spreadsheet. Is my thoughts on the matter#z talks#not horse game#This is not in a diet way btw fuck that (I would give myself an eating disorder immediately if I tried anything of the sort)#It’s just for planning my meals so I know what to put on the grocery list and don’t have to go to the store five times a week#The store makes me so tired I would like to limit my time there lol#the checkboxes are for the ingredients that I have at home
2 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
h1ghand-dry
your favorite former emo kid
marsixm
I AM NOT OF THIS WORLD I AM A RED LIGHT FROM GOD
glitter-skank
GLITTER SKANK
vikingsagine
Vikings_Imagine_One-shots_Whatever
raybosan007
I love women