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flowersforbucky · 4 months ago

Text

acquainted

bucky barnes x reader (undercover stripper!reader x undercover bodyguard!bucky)

word count: 3.3k

warnings/tags: SMUT, oral (male and female receiving), vaginal penetration, language, strip club setting, creepy dude being a piece of shit, violence and a brief mention of blood, protective/possessive bucky, reader is afab, no use of y/n, touch her and die trope, Bucky might have a slight lingerie kink... 18+ only!

The pulsating fuschia and lime green strobe lights illuminating the club had been making your eyes throb for the last three hours. EDM plays so loudly that you're surprised blood doesn't trickle down from your ears. Not to mention the suffocating combination of cheap perfume, body odor, cigars, and booze that permeates the air makes your empty stomach churn.

If you never step foot into another nightclub when this is all over, you'll consider yourself lucky. Not just any nightclub - one of New Orleans’ scummiest strip clubs.

Five goddamn nights of this operation and not a lick of progress.

Your objective was simple - obtain proof that the owner was operating a sex trafficking ring out of the club, and then call for the back-up squad parked a block away. So far, you had not been able to acquire any kind of definitive proof. No hints of anything shady going on behind the scenes, and you had yet to even see the owner make an appearance at any point since the mission began.

Everything seems as above board as a strip club can be.

One last night, you compromised with Fury. One last night and if it went as the last few have, you were done, and he owes you a few days of paid leave for putting you through this.

“If you don't stop picking at your garter belt, it's not going to have any sequins left.” Bucky's low voice murmurs through the communication device placed discreetly in your left ear.

“If you don't stop watching my every movement, you’re not going to have any unbroken toes left,” you threaten lightly, taking a sip of your drink - just a Shirley Temple, to keep up appearances. “Shoes like this could do a lot of damage.” You glance down at the pointy heels of the black velvet stilettos.

“Is that not my job?” he counters. You don't have to look over at where he's standing in the corner of the room to know he's smirking. “To not take my eyes off of you?”

“Then do your job. Watch me. You don't have to make comments on my sequins to do that.”

“Alright, alright,” he concedes. “I'll be over here, admiring your sequins from afar. You won't even know I'm here.” The com line clicks off before you can retort.

Except you absolutely would know that he's here. Just as you have the previous four nights of this mission - painfully aware that he's here, tracking your every movement in the skimpiest outfits you've worn in your life, doing the most provocative dances imaginable, and flirting with men that you wouldn't touch with ten foot long poles in real life, all while he keeps to the sidelines in case something were to go wrong.

Keeps to the sidelines and just watches you. Even when one of the dancers approached him to ask if he'd be interested in a private dance once he's off the clock on the first night on the job.

Even when there's gorgeous, topless women crawling on the stage and all but humping the pole in his direct line of sight.

He isn't here to look out for them, of course. He is here solely to keep you safe if things were to go sideways. But you had assumed you would have caught him sneaking glances at the dozen other women at least once by now.

It's almost your turn to go up on stage. You've performed a solo set every night so far, and you still feel every bit as nervous as you did the first time.

You enjoy dancing, actually. In the comfort of your own room, when listening to music alone. When you go out with friends, occasionally. When you took ballet lessons as a child. This, however, was leagues out of your comfort zone.

“The creep from a couple nights ago is back,” Bucky's voice is a strained whisper in your ear.

“Gonna have to narrow it down a bit for me, Barnes. You could be referring to at least half of the men in here right now.”

“Sitting in front of the stage, to the left,” he mumbles back. “He's wearing a red wife-beater–”

“See him,” you interrupt, your eyes zeroing in on the short, stout, beady-eyed fuck who had been thrown out of the club night before last. One of the other security guards on duty chucked him out when he repeatedly got too handsy with one of the girls who had been giving him a lap dance.

“Fantastic,” you huff under your breath, as you finish touching up your lipgloss and reapplying the iridescent baby pink body glitter across your chest. “Just in time for my dance.”

You get up from your seat at the bar and adjust your lace bustier and thong as the announcer calls your stage name.

“He won't lay a finger on you,” Bucky assures you as you're walking up the steps of the platform.

There's a weak round of applause and a few whistles as you take your place on the center of the small stage. You give a vague nod in the direction of the DJ’s booth to indicate you're ready for your song to begin.

An upbeat but sensuous synth-pop song pours out of the speakers throughout the room and you begin to sway your hips.

You're hyper-aware of the fact that you can see Bucky making his way closer to you, away from his position in the back of the room. He settles when he's just a few tables behind the man in the red wife-beater.

There's an eruption of butterflies in the pit of your belly at how close he is. Each night prior to this, he has kept to lingering around the exits and the far wall towards the back of the club. Now, he's close enough that you can actually see his eyes following every languid movement that your body makes around the pole.

“Take your fucking top off!” a grating voice bellows from the audience. “We want to see your tits.”

You don't have to look to know who the voice belongs to. You decide to ignore him, hoping he would stop if you didn't give him any attention. You go to wrap your thighs around the pole again, preparing to spin–

“Did you not fucking hear me?” he shouts even louder this time, audible to everyone over the roaring music. “I said take your fucking–”

A flash of movement in your peripheral vision causes you to freeze around the pole. You turn your full attention to the ruckus, just in time to see Bucky fisting the man's greasy, shoulder length hair and pulling his head back. The music comes to an abrupt pause.

“You don't fucking talk to her like that,” Bucky snarls. “In fact, you don't talk to her at all, you don't look at her, you don't even breathe the same fucking air as her.”

The man is thrashing around, trying and failing miserably to get out of Bucky's grasp.

“Let me go you fucking–”

He doesn't get to finish his sentence before Bucky snaps the man's head forward, sending his face crashing into the granite tabletop.

The instantaneous pool of blood that contrasts so starkly against the white stone snaps you out of your fear-stricken trance.

Bucky pulls his head back up, forcing the man to look up at him.

“It's not my fault she refuses to show off those perfect–”

You all but jump off the stage - miraculously not breaking an ankle in the six inch heels - and rush over to where Bucky still has the man's hair yanked into his fist.

Just as Bucky is beginning to shove the man's head downwards again, you place both of your hands on his chest, gently but effectively shoving him backwards. He immediately releases his grip on the man as the other few security guards on duty arrive to detain the pervert.

“Hey, hey,” you place your hands on his biceps, trying to turn his attention to you and away from the man who he's still glaring after, as he's hauled off by security. “I'm fine, yeah? Everything is fine,” you try to assure him, though you're not sure your shaky voice sounds very convincing. “He's just a creepy, entitled asshole.”

Noticing that Bucky is shaking beneath your touch, you rub your hands up and down his arms in hopes of calming him down.

He finally meets your gaze. He doesn't say anything for a moment, just stares at you as he takes a few deep breaths.

“Go get dressed,” he orders you calmly after a moment. “I’m getting you the fuck out of here.” You want to leave too badly to even think about objecting.

You make a beeline for the changing room, where you throw on a sweater and force your pants over your heels, not even bothering to change out of the lingerie and stilettos.

Bucky's waiting for you right outside the door as you sling your duffel bag across your shoulder.

“How mad do you think Fury will be that we are abandoning our positions?” you ask in a hushed tone as Bucky ushers you through the club, his metal arm wrapped around your waist.

“Not as mad as I am that he's had you doing this bullshit for no reason for almost a week now.”

You and Bucky exit the club as quickly as possible, ignoring the curious and confused stares of the other dancers and security guards. He guides you down the block, then through an alleyway where his motorcycle is parked in a heavy silence - other than the obnoxious clanking of your heels against the pavement.

Bucky straddles one leg over the seat of the bike, taking his place in the driver's position and then hands you the helmet.

“Wait,” you pause before putting it over your head. “I'm starving.” Your stomach growls, as if on cue. “Can we stop and get some take-out?”

He looks at you incredulously. “I just shattered that guy's nose and likely severely concussed him and then just dipped. Our cover is essentially blown, don't you think we should get back to the motel room and lay low until the morning?”

“There's a Chinese place open late just a few blocks from the motel–”

“If I say yes will you put on the helmet and get on the bike?”

Taking that as a win, you slide the helmet over your head and hop on behind him. You wrap your arms securely around his midsection in a tight hug and he takes off down Bourbon Street.

You spend the drive trying to ignore the thought that of all the times you've ridden on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle, you don't remember him ever feeling so tense beneath your touch.

Half an hour later, you're lounging on the rickety motel bed, stuffing your face full of sweet and sour chicken and vegetable fried rice while Bucky fills Sam in on what happened over the phone.

He sits in one of the small chairs at the singular table in the corner of the room, his posture rigid. He answers all of Sam's questions with clipped, one-word responses as he massages his temple between his thumb and forefinger.

He hangs up the phone, refusing to meet your gaze. Instead, he pretends to be interested in the episode of Family Guy playing on the old motel TV.

“Your egg rolls are going to get soggy,” you tell him, pushing the to-go box across the mattress towards him.

“I don't have an appetite right now,” he says, picking up the box of food as he stands. You grab his bicep in your hand as he begins to walk past where you're sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Hey,” you say, stopping him. “Everything's okay. Really. Don't let that guy get to you–”

“A little late for that, don't you think?” He snaps, pulling his arm from your grasp. You sit back, too stunned by his reaction to know how to respond. You just stare after him as he crams his take-out box into the motel room's mini fridge.

“I shouldn't have reacted so harshly,” he says after a moment, still facing away from you. “I couldn't stop myself. He spoke to you that way, and I could have killed him and not thought twice about it. Probably would have if you hadn't intervened.”

He turns back to you. You're frozen in place.

“Do you know what that's like?” He asks, taking a step closer to you. “To feel like you aren't in control of your own body? To be so irrationally protective of someone that you'd kill for them without a second thought?”

You feel like all air has been stripped from your lungs. He's just inches away, staring down at you from where you sit on the edge of the mattress. The way he's looking at you makes your skin feel like it's on fire.

“Because that's what you do to me. That's how you make me feel.”

Heat pools between your legs.

“Come here,” you say - it sounds more like a question than a command.

He closes what little distance is left between the two of you, and pulls you up from the mattress by the tops of your arms so that your body is flush against his.

His mouth hovers over yours - not quite making contact, though you can feel his breath fan across your skin.

He takes his flesh hand and cups the side of your face with it, his thumb trailing across your bottom lip. His metal hand wanders down your back until it reaches the curve of your ass - grasping your cheek in a firm hold and squeezing until his touch borders between pleasure and pain.

“This is what I wanted to do to you every time I saw a man so much as glance in your direction in that club,” he whispers against your mouth. “I thought about bending you over the stage and making them watch me take you right then and there, but they didn't deserve to see that.”

“They aren't here to see us now,” you murmur as you bring your hand to cup the noticeable bulge of his jeans, eliciting a hiss from him. “So what are you going to do now?”

There's a dark grin spread across his face. He pushes you, softly but effectively, back down on the bed. You scout back a few inches on the mattress, and then bring one of your feet up to remove the stiletto heels that you'd completely forgotten to take off upon returning to the motel with your haul of Chinese food.

“Oh, no,” Bucky laughs lowly. “I want you to keep those on. I've grown to like those quite a bit.”

Your cheeks warm in both arousal and bashfulness. You begin to push your pants down your thighs as Bucky kneels on the ground and helps you maneuver the fabric around your shoes. The sweater that you threw over your bustier goes next.

You're left in the lingerie set that you wore at the club.

“Call me jealous,” Bucky sighs as he begins trailing sloppy kisses up the insides of your thighs. “Call me possessive, call me crazy..”

You lay back down against the scratchy comforter as Bucky gets closer and closer to where you're aching to have him the most.

“But I don't want anyone seeing you like this but me.”

He pulls the already soaked lace material of your thong to the side, exposing your cunt.

He licks up your center torturously slow, causing you to let out a sharp exhale. He repeats the motion, and then locks his lips around your clit. Your hands shoot to his hair, fisting your fingers through the short brunet strands.

He eats you until you're a mewling and squirming mess beneath him.

You come hard, clenching your thighs around his head and riding his face through your orgasm.

“Stand up,” you instruct him as soon as you can think semi-clearly.

He obeys without any hesitation. The warm glow of the singular lamp in the motel room highlights the way your slick coats the lower half of his face.

You get up on your hands and knees before him and he lets out an audible groan at the sight in front of him. He bends down enough to kiss you - cupping your face in both of his hands and tipping your head up to give him a better angle to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moan into the kiss - the ache between your thighs reappearing already.

He removes his hands from your face, unbuttoning his pants while still kissing you.

You pull away to help free his cock from the confines of his boxers. Your mouth waters at what's directly in front of you. He's impressively long and girthy, with a thick vein running up the side.

You pump him a few times in your hand, swirling your tongue around the pre-cum dripping from his slit. He's already putty in your hands - groaning above you and placing his metal hand around the back of your neck to keep you where he wants you.

After you've run your tongue up and down his length a few times, you spit on the tip of his cock and massage it over the entirety of his shaft before taking him as far into your mouth as you can in the first go. He throws his head back, moaning your name.

You feel him hit the back of your throat and you gag before pulling back.

He curses under his breath, nudging himself slowly back towards your throat again.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he praises and you moan around his dick. He gradually increases the speed at which he pumps himself into your mouth, obscene noises echoing off of the thin motel room walls.

When he pulls out, you feel drool running down your neck and mascara-tinted tears leaking from your eyes.

“You're so gorgeous like this for me,” he tells you, and despite knowing that you look thoroughly fucked out, you believe him. “Will you turn around?”

You do as he asks, turning around on your hands and knees. You lower your chest down to the bed so that your ass is angled upwards.

“Jesus Christ,” he grunts under his breath. He grips your hips with both of his hands, yanking you to him. His erection juts against the cloth of your underwear.

He tugs them aside once more, giving him access to tease your slit with the head of his cock. You rock backwards, grinding against him. He brings his flesh hand around your stomach and reaches down to rub your clit as he begins to slowly fill you from behind.

He pauses for a moment once he bottoms out, giving you time to adjust to the fullness of him before he starts fucking into you.

The combination of him slamming into you at such an intense angle and massaging you so perfectly has your climax building shamefully fast.

You grunt his name, bouncing your ass to meet his thrusts. “I'm gonna come,” you mewl, knowing he's on the verge of doing the same as his movements become uneven.

One, two, three more pumps and you can feel your pussy clenching around him as you come together.

You pull off of him, collapsing onto the bed and rolling onto your back. He crawls over you, propping himself up on his arms above you.

“You know,” he stares down at you, his eyes trailing to your breasts that are now spilling out of the black lace bustier. “As much as I hated every second of that mission, I do hope I might get to see you in some of these outfits again.”

♡♡♡♡♡

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes one-shot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine

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sturniolo-rat · 7 months ago

Text

Pathetic Part 1

Chris Sturniolo X Dom!Reader

A/N: you asked for it and I delivered. I am but a humble civil servant born to peddle smut to the masses.

Contains: p in v sex, female masturbation, overstimulation, toys, bondage, begging

TW: Shouldn’t be any

In which Chris is horny after coming back from tour and he ends up getting vibed like a needy slut.

Chris wants to be touched. He just returned from a tour, and Matt has dropped him off at Y/N’s house. They’ve never been apart that long, and he misses being touched. He’s been hugging fans for a month, but those are friendly touches. Chris needs the type of intimate touches only Y/N can provide.

He knocks on her front door, and she takes a while to open it. She wasn’t expecting him until tomorrow. She thought since he got back at midnight, he would unpack and get some rest. She’s in her hot girl jammies. The special pair of pajamas that every girl has for when they want to feel sexy while they sleep. Not sexy in a lingerie way but sexy in a casual “I didn’t put any thought into this; I'm just naturally this hot” kind of way. Y/N’s are a pair of very short pink pj pants covered in strawberries and a cut-up D.A.R.E t-shirt that falls sensually off her shoulders.

At the sight of her, his eyes start to well up, and he envelops her in a hug, sneaking his hands under her shirt to touch the skin on her back. His emotional greeting takes aback Y/N. “Fuck, I missed you so much.” He says into her neck with great frustration.

“Oh, my baby, you don’t have to cry. I missed you, too,” she says in a nurturing tone, rubbing his back. Let’s go inside, okay?”

“Mhmm, okay,” he says in a small voice. She leads him by the hand into her house. He is mesmerized by the way her thighs rub together when she walks, the way her hips move, and her ass jiggles. She’s so fucking sexy. When they reach her living room. In that same small voice, he says, “No, not here.” Never letting go of her hand moves, he moves so close to Y/N that their chests touch. “Upstairs,” he whispers.

“Why? I was just gonna-”

“Please, I need you.” He interrupts, his voice cracking.

She puts her hands on his face and kisses him softly. “You want me to play with you, kitten?”

“Mhmm, please.”

“Okay, baby, come with me.” She walks him to her room, and he doesn’t know what to expect, but he knows he’s going to be taken care of. Come on, let’s get these clothes off you.” He raises his arms so she can lift his shirt and remove it. Then she helps him out of his sweats and boxers. When he’s all naked, she runs her hands up his sides and over his chest, giving him chills. She has to stand on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “You’re so pretty, Kitten.”

“Thank you, miss.” his cheeks get all rosey, and he gives her a tiny smile.

“Welcome, baby. Lie on your back for me. Hands above your head and head on the pillow so you’re comfy.” Y/N watches as he gets into position. He’s not being bratty tonight. He must really be desperate, and that’s just how Y/N likes him. She opens the nightstand to retrieve a long red silk ribbon to tie Chris’s hands. The sight of her bringing out the ribbon makes his cock jump.

“Miss,” he whines because she’s taking so long to touch him where he needs it most.

“Hush, kitten.” She stands in front of the bed and slowly starts to take her shirt off, making sure her hands linger on her curves, and her hands stop to squeeze her breasts before pulling it over her head. She bends over to touch her toes before sliding her shorts down her legs. Chris is surprised she’s not wearing any panties. She doesn’t need to tease him like this; he's already so hard and ready for her.

“I’m gonna touch you now.” She looks at her acrylic nails. They’re short, stiletto-shaped, freshly done, and extremely pointy. She walks to the side of the bed and gently glides her nails from his neck to his chest. It tickles, so he smiles a bit. She drags them over his nipples. They start to pebble, and she stops to flick and suck at them. Some men don’t have many nerve endings in their nipples, but Chris isn’t one of them. His nipples are sensitive, and he loves when Y/N plays with them. Once his nipples are as hard as they can be, she runs her nails down to his navel. The sensation gives Chris goosebumps. She figures tonight is an excellent time to try sensory play. He needs to be touched, and she’s teasing him by touching him in a way he doesn’t expect. When her nails reach his lower half, his hips start to buck in a silent plea for more contact. She pulls her hands away, and he moans out of frustration.

She grabs something else from the nightstand before she sits in front of him on the bed. Her legs are open, feet flat on the bed, with her pussy on full display. “Miss, please,” he begs.

“I’ll get to you soon.” Y/N runs a finger through her folds.“But I have to take care of myself first.” She says breathily and starts to rub slow circles over her clit. She lets out a soft moan. He tugs against his restraints. It’s so hard for Chris to watch Y/N touch herself. It’s unfair that she’s not touching him and even more unjust that he can’t touch himself watching her. “I wanna be able to give you all my attention when I pleasure you.”

Once she gets her clit is all warmed up and engorged, she takes out the vibrator from behind her back. Chris remembers the very distinct moans that it elicits from her. She turns it to its first setting. Then runs the tip of her toy against her opening to get it nice and wet before she holds it onto her clit. The steady low vibration feels so fucking perfect. Her eyes shut, and she bites her lip to hold in her moans. She wants to cum quickly so she can focus on Chris, so she speeds up the vibrator. “Oh, fuck.” She rubs her toy up and down her clit. Chris can’t help but watch as her legs shake and her hips start to buck. She’s going to cum all over that toy, and he’s never wanted to be an inanimate object this bad in his whole life.

“Fuck, I wanna see you cum, miss. Please, please cum.” He says, knowing it’s what she needs to hear to get her there. With his words on her mind, she throws her head back and lets out a roaring moan. Her pussy starts to clench, and she cums.

When she comes down from her high, she hears the feeble cries Chris has been letting out. “Oh, kitten, did you want a turn?” She teases. Y/N moves on the bed to sit at Chris’s side and holds the vibrator up. “I know we haven’t tried this yet, but I thought you’d like it.” She turns it to its second setting. The one that transitions back and forth from slow to fast vibrations. Holding it only centimeters away from the tip of his rock-hard cock she asks, “Do you think you’ll like it?”

He nods his head eagerly. “Yes, miss, I do. I really, really do.” She lowers the toy onto his cock, but it starts fast, and he winces because he isn’t ready for it. As it slows to a low rumble, his muscles relax, and he is able to bask in the pleasure. He’s never felt anything like this before. Y/N starts to rub the vibrator in circles over his head. He closes his eyes, gets lost in the feeling, and lets out a low string of moans. Just as he’s getting comfortable, the vibrations gradually speed up. “Yes, yes, yes.” His moans get louder, and waves of deep pleasure roll through him, but only for a moment because already it’s slowing down. Y/N makes up for the lost sensation by stroking the base of his cock. He goes through another cycle of high vibrations, but her hands are touching him this time. His abdominal muscles start to constrict, and his hips begin to buck up into her hand. “I’m gonna cum! Can I please cum?”

“Oh, you wanna cum, kitten?”

“Mhmm, yes!” He whines.

She removes the vibrator and stops moving her hand. “Well, I don’t want you to cum, just yet.”

“Fuck!” He cries and kicks his feet in frustration.

She puts a finger to his mouth. “Shhh.. I don’t want to hear another complaint come out of your pretty little mouth.”

“I just want you to touch me and make me cum please.” He begs, his breathing uneven and heavy. Before responding, she swings her leg over and straddles him.

“I am going to make you cum. I promised I would take care of you.” She grabs his face with her hand and gives him a soft kiss. “And I always take care of you, right?”

“Mhmm.” He says, looking at her with those doe eyes. She sits on his lap with her pussy right up against his base. When she looks down, she sees the tip dripping precum onto his stomach. He is in complete and utter agony, waiting for her to line him up and sit on his cock. He rocks his hips to create some friction. He just slips himself between her pussy lips and gently jerks himself off using her folds. Y/N likes watching him get his dick all wet with her cum. She almost abandons her plan and just pushes him inside, but instead, she follows through and grinds her pussy onto him. He’s whimpering now.

“Please sit on my cock, I’ll be so good.”He’s so close to getting what he wants, but she’s just not giving it to him. Y/N grinds her hole all the way up his cock until he’s convinced she is going to let him in, but she pulls back at the last second. He lets out a little yelp, and she leans down to give him a long, passionate kiss. She moves her hips faster, and she uses her hands to pinch his nipples. He throws his head back and lets out a moan from deep in his chest. “I’m so close!”

“Oh, how close are you, kitten?”

“Please, I’m so fucking close!” She sits up, and all of the contact he so loves is lost. “No, no, no, don’t move, please!”

“I’m sorry, baby, I know, I’m so mean. I just wanna make sure when you cum you truly appreciate it.”

His eyes are closed, and he feels defeated and hopeless. Y/N takes this moment to sink down onto his cock. His eyes shoot open, and he lets out a gasp. “Yes! Thank you, miss,” she places her feet flat on the bed and uses her knees to bounce up and down on his cock. Fuck he fills her up so nice. She leans back, using his legs to keep herself up and bouncing. He doesn’t moan anymore; he whines and yelps and mewls at her every movement. He’s so fucking pathetic he has a year running down his cheek.

Y/N can’t move any faster on to him, so she says, “Buck up into me, kitten, make yourself feel good.” He does. And he does it really fucking fast. He’s jackhammering into her, and she frees one of her hands to rub her clit. Her pussy is tightening around his cock, and she’s moaning like crazy, even louder than with the vibrator. He’s so afraid to tell her how close he’s coming to an orgasm, but he knows that it’s what good kittens are supposed to do.

“I wanna cum with you!”

“Mhmm,” she nods.

“Please, miss, can I cum with you!” He doesn’t realize she already said yes. He’s losing his faculties to his impending orgasm.

“Yes, baby, you can cum! You can with cum me, and in me, and afterward, we can do whatever the fuck you want because you’ve been such a good fucking kitten for me!”

He doesn’t say anything as he climaxes; he just lets yel, which causes his voice to break. The sound of it pushes Y/N over the edge, and she sits back down on her knees, still keeping Chris inside her. She continues riding him softly, clenching and unclenching herself around him, gently milking his cock. When Chris finally returns to planet Earth, he’s okay with the small movements. Pretty soon, though, it starts to hurt. “Oh shit. That hurts a bit.”

“Hmm? You don’t like it anymore? You were just begging for it a minute ago.” She is highly amused with herself.

“That was different, and you know it.” He cringes.

“But still no safe word from you, huh? Who’s to say I’m not just giving you the thorough fucking you deserve?” She continues riding him as she unties his hands from each other. He’s much stronger than Y/N, so he uses his hands to hold her hips and stop her movements.

“Thank you, miss, for the thorough fucking, but I think the fun is over.” He says in his “real man that is 2x stronger than you” voice and playfully moves her off him.

“I was so freaking awesome tonight.” Y/N is so proud of her dom performance. “I pulled out at all the stops.” She counts on her fingers

“We had bondage, toys, edging, and overstim!”

“Yes, you did great, baby. You took advantage of my very pathetic state, and it was amazing.”

“And I didn’t have to plan it! I crafted it on the spot like a fucking evil mastermind!”

“Alright, don’t get ahead of yourself. I bet you I could do better on short notice.”

“Fuck you! No way!” She smacks his chest.

“Well, the next time you come to me in a pathetic touch-starved state, we’ll see who doms better.”

“Deal.”

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femmefatalevibe · 1 year ago

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Femme Fatale Guide: My Fall Wardrobe Essentials

Pima cotton long-sleeve tees (I like the Supima ones from Everlane for every day)

Contour body suits (I like the Express Bodycon Compression line and Spanx bodysuits in vegan leather/silk)

Silk button downs

Structured cotton button-down

Cashmere sweaters (crewneck, turtleneck, polo neck, etc. – Everlane, Nadaam, and Cuyana are great affordable options)

Zippered knitwear (I like options from Pixie Market, Naadam, COS, Ganni, Helmut Lang, Nanushka, and more)

Black high-waisted tailored trousers (bootcut, flared, and straight leg)

Black high-waisted jeans (straight and bootcut for me!)

Elevated stretch pants (I like the Norma Kamali Boot Pant and Spanx Perfect Pant for this)

Cashmere trouser

Cashmere hoodie

Thick, well-structured black sweatshirt

High-waisted straight-leg leather pants

Long-sleeve black sweater dress

Maxi-length black satin slip dress

Leather/quilted/tweed mini skirt

Long knit skirt (love a co-ord top for this, too)

Perfectly-tailored longline, single-breasted black blazer

Tailored hourglass blazer

Leather blazer

Classic leather moto jacket

Cropped patent leather jacket

Lightweight wool/satin duster coat

Black cotton trench/leather trench coat

Black tweed jacket with elevated hardware

Structured black wool coat

Leather puff jacket

Minimalist white sneakers

Black block-heeled, sleek square-toed/pointy-toe boots

Modern black loafers

Croc-embossed black boot

Black moto/lace-up boot or minimalist platform boot

Stiletto heel, pointy toe black boot (one short and one knee high length to dress up any outfit)

Western-inspired boot

Sleek and sexy black pumps

Structured black tote/shoulder bag

Structured crossbody bag

Small shoulder bag

Novelty/fun top handle bag (beaded, croc-embossed, crystal-embellishments, etc.)

Seamless bras/underwear

Control-top black tights (sheer and opaque)

Comfortable white and black ankle/crew socks

A cashmere, silk, or faux fur everyday scarf

Fingerless gloves

Chunky chain necklaces/bracelets

Delicate gold and silver chains (necklaces and bracelets)

Mixed-metal rings

Diamond-encrusted & cocktail rings

Ear cuffs and threader earrings

High-waisted shapewear shorts

Cashmere or silk loungewear/pajamas

A lace teddy

Cozy slippers

#wardrobe staples #capsule wardrobe #fall wardrobe #fall outfits #personal branding #style tips #style inspiration #black outfit #outfit inspiration #wardrobe design #style inspo #fashion advice #dark femininity #dark feminine energy #femme fatale #brand personality #fashion blog #femmefatalevibe

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kimludcom · 11 months ago

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#kimludcom #kimlud #Bow Knot Fashion Boots #Pointy toe Stiletto Heels Solid Knee High Chunky Lace Up Boots #Pointy toe Stiletto Heels #boots

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yourlocaldisneyvillain · 1 year ago

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...the unholy flames of ♥kink!week♥ burn brightly...

(don't know what kink week is? click here!)

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

∼ on this unholy wednesday we explore the unsafe and the insane, but we stay in the realm of consensual — for now ∼

∼ day three brings us our beloved headmistress ♥ Larissa Weems ♥ ∼

∼ tags and the fic are under the cut ∼

♥ i've worked very hard on this series — it was a huge project to undertake and i would very much appreciate if you left me comments with your thoughts and impressions — you already know they make my heart sing ♥ (AO3 link — i prefer it to tumblr vastly)

tags: #foot fetish #face-fucking #stiletto heels #high heels #heel blow job #toe sucking #degradation #degradation kink #verbal humiliation #humiliation #toxic relationship #unhealthy relationships #dom/sub #masturbation #orgasm denial #orgasm delay #mistress/slave undertones #mean!larissa weems #dom!larissa weems #kink!week

pathetic (clicking on the title will lead you to ao3)

“Pathetic.” Larissa’s voice is tainted with disgust. She smushes your cheek with the sole of her red stiletto pump. “You’re only fit to be dirt under my shoe.”

You whimper, and she presses on your face harder. “I know you get off on this, slut. I bet you’re wet right now.”

It’s true — and you’re so ashamed, but you don’t want her to stop. You press your thighs together, wanting to give yourself some sort of relief, and she immediately notices. In a swift move, she removes her foot from your face and kicks your legs apart, then jams the pointy toe of her pump against your pussy — hard. You wince in pain and take in a sharp breath, but you don’t cry out — she forbade you to speak beforehand.

“You disgust me,” she spits out. Her nose scrunches as she says it, and you hate yourself because you can’t stop thinking about how attractive she looks when her face is twisted with disgust for you.

She moves her foot away from your crotch and walks away, heels clicking on the wooden floor of her office — and then the sound stops. You can’t see where exactly she is because you’re lying on the floor, facing the ceiling.

“Crawl.”

You immediately get on all fours. Your pussy aches where she hit you, your knees burn as they press against the hard floor, and you can feel how wet you are as you crawl. You think how pathetic you must look — crawling on all fours in her office, clad only in your now completely soaked underwear. You know she’ll make you stay in those for the rest of the day.

She’s leaning against her desk, her legs crossed at the ankles, staring down at you like a queen looking down upon a worthless servant. You take her in, your mouth watering as your gaze wanders from her beautiful face to her elegant neck, then to her small breasts and the soft curve of her belly, to her wide hips and her thick thighs pulling the dress taut.

“Who gave you permission to gawk? Eyes at my feet.”

You immediately obey. Her feet and calves look delectable in red pumps that match her lips and nails. You fix your gaze onto them as you crawl to her, stopping at her feet.

“Lie down on your back. You can look at me now.”

You do as you’re told. “That’s it. Roll over like a fucking dog.”

She pokes your cheek with her stiletto heel, softly at first, then pressing harder — so hard it hurts. “I could just do this all day and you’d be grateful for the attention. Such a needy, worthless whore.”

She brings the heel of her shoe to your lips. “Suck.”

You start sucking on the thin heel as she pushes it in and out of your mouth.

“You love having your mouth fucked, don’t you, slut?” she says, her voice growing husky with lust. You suck on the heel harder, taking it deeper into your mouth — as much of it as you can. She lets out a quiet gasp, as if she can feel it. “That’s it, take all of it.”

She fucks your mouth slowly and deeply, pushing the heel in so far that you gag, and then pulling out almost all the way. You lick and suck on it fervently. Your back hurts from lying on the hardwood floor, but you pay it no mind — all your attention is solely focused on the goddess above you.

You watch her, mesmerised, as she abuses your mouth. She looks beautiful, her chest slightly heaving, her cherry red lips parted, her eyes dark with desire. You never break eye contact — not even as tears blur your vision when you gag on her heel. You just can’t get enough of her blue eyes and the lust reflected in them.

She starts going faster, breathing hard as she pushes the heel in and out, her movements growing more urgent by the second until suddenly she pulls the heel fully out of your mouth with a wet pop. With her other foot, she quickly kicks the shoe off. It tumbles to the ground next to your head. You notice her toenails are also painted the same red as her pumps.

She forces all of her toes inside of your mouth and continues to fuck your mouth with her bare foot, making you drool and whimper. You lick and suck on her toes, trying to take in as much of her as you can, and she moans and grips the table harder.

“Suck on each toe,” she breathes out.

You take her big toe in your mouth first, sucking on it hard, and she draws in a sharp breath. You take your time worshipping each toe and soon she starts letting out soft moans, and then she’s lifting up her skirt and slipping her hand between her legs. She starts rubbing her clit as you continue to reverently suck on her toes.

“Tongue out,” she commands, then pulls her toes out and pushes the sole of her foot over your open mouth, rubbing it on your tongue. “Fuck yes,” she says through gritted teeth, moving her foot faster and faster, rubbing her sole back and forth over your tongue, smushing your face and hitting your nose with her toes.

Her movements are growing more and more frantic — she frenetically slides her foot over your face and feverishly rubs her clit. The air is filled with your soft whimpers, her moans, and the slick sound of her wetness.

“Suck,” she then says and pushes her toes back in your mouth, her voice breathy with lust. “I wanna fuck your face when I come.”

You lick and suck on her toes as she starts rubbing her clit even faster. “You love it when I fuck your face with my foot, hm? Suck, don’t stop,” she pants out. “Pathetic slut, only good for having your face fucked — ah! — fucking dirt under my feet — mmm, fuck—” she cries out, pushing herself over the edge, pressing her thighs together as her belly muscles contract and her brows furrow, her mouth opening in a silent cry.

You continue sucking and licking until she pulls her toes out of your mouth. She gently rubs her pussy through the aftershocks, watching you with hooded eyes, as she smears your own saliva all over your face with her foot. When she comes down from her high, she removes her foot from your face and pulls her discarded heel closer with her toes, before sliding her foot inside of it again.

You lie on the floor, waiting for further instruction. Your back aches, your pussy throbs, and your panties are absolutely soaked. You can still feel the salty aftertaste of her foot in your mouth — you adore it.

You’ve been so good. You hope she will reward you with an orgasm — at least let you get yourself off. However, she pays no attention to you as she pulls her dress back down over her thighs, smoothing it, nor as she grabs the disinfectant from her desk and rubs it over her hands. She leaves you lying on the floor as she circles her desk, heels clicking. You can hear her sitting down in her chair.

“Mistress?” you ask.

“Did I say you could speak?”

“But—”

Her phone rings.

“Hello, Principal Weems speaking,” she answers, voice perfectly level and professional, as if she didn’t just come all over her fingers with her foot in your mouth.

You lie on the floor, listening to her talk on the phone. It’s taking forever, and you’re in pain, and still so incredibly aroused and frustrated. However, you don’t move — you wait for her to tell you what to do.

After a torturously long time, she gets up from her desk, walks around it, and then stands above you, phone in her hand. You hear someone talk on the other end of the line, but you can’t make out what they’re saying. You catch her gaze and give her a pleading look, but she only gestures with her perfectly manicured arm, for you to get lost.

“But—” you start, but she gives you a look that makes you immediately get up from the floor and scurry towards the pile of your discarded clothes. You dress, stealing glances at her, but she pays no mind to you. She’s still talking on the phone, saying the occasional “yes” and “of course” while absentmindedly nodding.

Once fully dressed, you walk to her desk, your panties uncomfortably wet and sticky with every step you make. You stand next to her chair, trying to get her attention. She ignores you for a bit, and then finally deigns to eye you up and down, a disinterested look in her eyes.

“Yes,” she says to the person on the other end of the line as she grabs a piece of paper and a pen from her desk. “We can discuss that at the parents’ conference next Thursday.”

She scribbles down on the paper. When she’s done, she pushes it towards you. She waits a couple of seconds for you to read it.

Tomorrow, 7pm sharp. Don’t touch yourself until then. Stay in these knickers until the end of the day. If you disobey, I’ll know.

She then turns towards the window in her office chair, not sparing you another glance, taking the paper and crushing it in her fist. You know she will burn it later — destroy the evidence of your shameful rendezvous.

You leave her office with a knot in your stomach. It’s nothing new — you feel terrible every time. Your relationship is sick and twisted and toxic, and you know you should end it. You could end it if you wanted to. She wouldn’t want the scandal of it all. She’d leave you alone if you threatened to report her.

If only you didn’t crave it so much.

You know one day you’ll grow tired of it — however, that day is not today, and it isn’t tomorrow either, for you show up at her office at 7pm sharp, like she told you.

“Pathetic,” she spits while you massage her feet, and then repeats it later after she lets you get off by humping her shoe.

You agree with her.

♥ big thanks to @opheliauniverse for beta reading ♥

taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed!) : @dumbasslesbi @bychrissi @scream-queenlover @muffintopxs @bigolgay @gwenslucifer @weemswife @yourhauntedhead @carnivorousflowers @i-have-insane-that-i-am-paper @softshrimpy @willowshadenox @syrenacrainn @weemssapphic @dianneking @imprincipalweemspet @kimiinou @ninelesbien @i-love-nerdy-stuff @eveymay @myzzjolanda @pluied-ete @brienneswife @gwenzone @principal-weems09 @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu @gela123 @emilynissangtr @gwendolinechristieiscute @h-doodles @winterfireblond @alexusonfire @larissaoftarthweems @a-queen-and-her-throne @bikergurl5 @salems-spaghettios @theflashesoflove @catechristiesstuff @vendocrap8008 @billiedeansbitch @coffeemelko @lilfartbox1 @amateurwritescm @daydream-cement @kaymariesworld @sicklygrlsicklygrl @wh0re4women @rippersz @bbykens

#kink!week #7 days of kink #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems smut #larissa weems x y/n #i will produce my own garbage and also consume it #gwendoline christie

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