#s type headspace

[bongsandblushes]

Just wanna be a braindead little slut, taking hits every time you put the joint in my mouth until I’m so soft and dizzy that I can’t any more, and you have to shotgun me the next ones.

[bongsandblushes]

THAT IS NOT FAIR THATS SUCH A MIND FUCK JFJDJCIDSICYXAIDKGUHF

Oh gosh the fear of la chancla is real 🤣 I read that and my heart sped up

Someday I'll get asked to spank a sub with a sandal and I'll agree on the condition that the safeword is the name of their therapist.

[celestialmancer]

Why are most the things I wanna ramble abt today wrt ocs more uh

Nsfw ish or nsfw territory

[tojigasm]

I'm thinking about emotional sex with Logan

I'm talking about those deep rolls of his hips that have you sobbing into his silk pillows because you're stretched so good that you can hardly remember why you were upset in the first place.

It's the type of fucking that has you shivering beneath him and trembling with each of his thrusts, trying to grasp onto some form of reality to ground yourself back to earth again.

It's the type of fucking he gives you when you can't tell him what it is you need. When you're choking on your tears, too tired from crying and exhausted from the mental fog you've been in.

He keeps you there. Keeps you in a headspace that reminds you where you are.

You keep your hands over your face, tits rocking with your body as he rolls his hips into you.

You're still stuck there – replaying the moments you'd almost been struck with a flying piece of steel, nearly the size of a car.

And Jesus christ it'd missed your neck by half an inch though the thought of dying terrified you, it was Logan's reaction to it that made you realize just how fragile you were in comparison to him.

Logan's voice breaks through the fog, "Can you look at me?" He asks from above you, giving you a gentle stroke to your clit.

You're urged to shake your head 'no' for a moment before dropping your hands from your face to your chest.

Logan smiles down at you, "There she is."

You let out a soft and weak moan when he slides your thigh over his shoulder, nearly pressing your knee to your chest.

He's much closer to you at this angle, his breath tickling your lips as you both pant into one another.

His cock grazes the spongey patch of your cunt and your neck cranes as you shiver out a choked gasp.

"Haa... mph." You're cut off by Logan slipping his free hand beneath your neck, supporting your head and tilting you forward.

"Look at me – there we go, hey pretty girl."

You swallow the lump in your throat, forcing a tearful smile before you're reduced to a sobbing mess.

Logan understands. He always does.

Understands in the way he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, letting your leg slip from his shoulder and gently placing your head back onto the sheets before guiding your arms around him.

He ruts into you, the veins of his cock push against your walls deliciously, pulling a moan from your lips.

Logan meets you in a slippy kiss, slipping his hand beneath your head again to keep you somewhat upright.

"Whadd'you need, bubba?" His voice is soft against your lips.

You nearly choke on your words, trying to force them up your raw and swollen throat.

"Need you." You finally manage, and the mental wall seems to chip some, "Want you."

Logan's eyes soften at that, thrusts into your heat turning into something far more viscerally raw than the simplicity in an attempt to distract you from what had happened to you out in the field.

"Want you, Lo," you say again, tears bubbling over your cheeks.

He nods, "M'right here, not goin' anywhere." He kisses you again.

His dark bangs stick to his forehead, and his side burns tickle the skin of your cheeks.

You're close and you know Logan can tell by the way he guides your legs to hook over his hips, angling his thrusts to roll his hips at the spot that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head and your nails dig into his tan skin.

A pinched whine rolls up the back of your throat and Logan presses a kiss to your lips before pressing your foreheads together and whispering "Cum fr'daddy, bubba."

The swell of his cock stretching against your gummy walls is enough to send both of you over the edge – Logan spilling into you as your walls tighten around his girth.

The two of you don't move, only panting into eachothers mouths.

You let out a soft giggle, readjusting your legs around his hips and pulling him deeper into you with a moan.

Logan presses a kiss to the top of your head, his hand running down your back in soft circles.

Logan rolls you both further onto the bed, pulling you on top of him as you settle into the bedsheets.

He's hot beneath you, and you can hear the drum of his heart beat in an almost harp-like rhythm of an echo against his adamantium ribcage.

It reminds you where you are. That you're okay.

[moondirti]

ghoap x nanny! reader / 18+ / previous ft. surveillance. handjobs. voyeurism. mild s/m. dirty talk.

They check up on you when they can.

Price wasn't exaggerating when he doled out the mission details. It's a tough one. Grueling. The type that necessitates four flights a week and days of little to no sleep, the men fuelled on nothing but a snow-balling urgency to get it done. The target is a slippery fuck, with connections that transport him across the globe at the first sign of conflict. They come close to apprehending him only once, and nothing comes of it but the exacerbated threat of nuclear war as the bastard starts to squeak like a cornered mouse. Gaz has a near constant migraine. Soap stops being fun around the two week mark, exhaustion slowing his tongue. Ghost grows more unhinged with his kills, punching blades through the throats of anyone who dares get in their way.

But still, they check on you.

Isla occupies a quarter of their headspace at all times; half when they don't have to dedicate their focus to the operation. It's the longest they've ever spent away from their girl, the withdrawals hitting them like a bag of bricks. They do whatever's necessary, then, to tune into the nanny cams they have set up around the house, lest Johnny cries about the way her hands dimple when she uncurls a fist again. Or worse – before Simon forgets what tethers him to humanity.

They find the two of you are always doing something.

Which isn't a surprise. You had mentioned your background in early childhood education; they just thought that it'd been a device to impress them. But it's clear that you're eager to put your degree to use when they see you setting up yet another enrichment activity for their daughter and encouraging her to engage.

The first time, they had just arrived on base. It'd been five hours since they've seen you last and already, Johnny had pulled his phone to log onto the monitoring app he had installed.

Sure enough, you were in the same overalls they saw you in last, Isla changed into a fresh pair of pyjamas after her bath. You had her set on her play mat, but replaced the dangling toys for newer, more colourful ones. As she reached for them, you would sound out the shade in a high-pitched voice and grin excitedly when she'd babble back, as if aaaah! meant green.

He felt his heart tug something fierce, caught between endearment and unease at missing out, before getting dressed for debrief.

The third time, you let them know you could tell when the nanny cam is in active use. Not accusatorially, of course – it unfolded in a way too innocent to be anything but a whammy on their part.

They were in a humvee on exfil after being ambushed by the local army – soldiers with blood money lining their pockets, tasked with dispatching the bloodhounds that keep sniffing their patron's trail. Simon had watched a little boy get caught in the crossfire and decided it was imperative to check if Isla was okay, despite her being hundreds of miles away and off anyone's radar.

You're the first thing he saw, carrying the weight of a huge plastic storage container filled with water. In it, there were several rubber animals that inspired a fit of squeals somewhere off screen. You had laughed, a little out of breath, and he remembers the relief that flooded his chest at the dual sounds. Like the cold lick of waves across scorching sand.

As you'd passed by the camera, you stopped and crouched so your face would be in view.

"Isla likes splashing around in the water. I'm thinking of getting her a paddling pool." And you lifted the container as if you would ever need to justify the way you take of their daughter. "Hope you guys are well."

Johnny murmured from beside him. "Forgot aboot th' status light."

The seventh– ninth– maybe twelfth time (having lost count), it was just in time to catch you on your way out with Isla in tow.

They'd tuckered down in a shitty motel, awaiting the next word from Laswell, all four of them in one room. Gaz had been given the bed as consolation for the torn tendon in his knee, and Price had claimed the couch with nothing more than a growl about his back needing it. Thus, Ghost and Soap found themselves on the floor, the latter man tucked under his partner's arm, the other occupied with checking in on the porch feed. The time difference made it so that it was midday where you were.

You were dressed – and Simon recalls it as clearly as the day you met – in a green wrap skirt and tulip hat, their darling girl in a shade of pink that complimented its petals, sat on your hip as you struggled with her buggy. They forgot to give you the run down on unfolding it before they left, too overwhelmed with everything else to pay mind to the little things.

Johnny had jumped for the two-way talk function immediately, tapping on the little mic before clearing his throat.

"There's a latch under th' left arm. Flip it 'n' it shuid unfold automatically."

You jumped, pausing to face the porch cam with wide eyes. "Oh– Oh my god. Haha," Following his directions, you were able to get it open with little fuss. "that is so embarrassing. Pretend you never saw that."

Simon had his balaclava on, uncomfortable with going bare-faced in an unfamiliar room, but Johnny still felt the soft smile splitting his cheeks. Its warmth was unmistakable.

"Nonsense, lass. 'twas cute."

You bloomed at that, wiggling a little in place. Though the flustered moment hadn't lasted long, for Isla's mouth fell open at the recognition of her father's voice, chubby hand reaching out in its direction.

"Bldha! Pffffpp."

"That's right, baby! That's Da." You waddled closer to have her inspect the strange contraption hooked above their mailbox, turning your attention back to them. "We're going on a narration walk! Isla's gotten so good at recognising animals because of them. But it was so nice to hear from you. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

"Gah!"

Simon locked the phone when neither of them could muster a response, emotion rushing their throats like white-river rapids. Hot tears seep into his side, a pair of misty eyes buried in his ribs.

"I know. I know, Johnny. S'alright. We'll see 'er again soon."

Now, he's made good on his promise.

All three rogue missiles located and dismantled in record time, meaning their slimy target could no longer use them as a shield. He'd been in shackles within the next day, wrangled somewhere in Istanbul and shipped off to a maximum security prison in The Hague. The task force left no loose thread untugged, which took an extra day but will be worth it in the long run. Price promises to reward them with a round, on him.

They're on their way back to base when Johnny tunes in a final time.

He's sure that Isla is asleep by now, confirmed by the baby monitor that focuses on the sprawled form in her cot. It would be best to exit the app and doze off like the other men – lord knows he needs it – but he can't help the itch to look for you too. To click through every channel, his curiosity unquenched, until–

Ah. There.

On the couch, bare legs stretched out along its length. A throw blanket tangled between them, one bent at the knee to support the book you're currently fingering through. The sight alone is enough to make him salivate.

But then he notices the thin material of your top.

Practically translucent. No doubt made for bed. You aren't wearing a bra, either, and the darker shade of your nipples practically flaunts itself through the fabric. They're too soft to protrude and cast a shadow on your breasts, but he's still able to get a good impression of what you would look like nude. Some part of him wilts with guilt at the shameless voyeurism he's subjecting you to.

Another part sends blood to the weight between his legs.

"Bleedin' Christ."

"Hm?" Simon grunts, disturbed by the restless pace of Johnny's heart. His head lifts off his shoulder, blinking warily to clear the silky gossamer of sleep threading his eyelids, before focusing on the grainy footage on his partner's screen.

"Ghost." He whines, hips bucking in desperation when the larger man does nothing. They haven't had the chance to relieve themselves since that night at the motel, and even then it had been a messy frotting as they tried not to disturb their sleeping comrades.

"A'right. Off to the bathroom with you, then."

He doesn't turn off of the live feed even as they cram into the compact space. Though he should. He needs to. Not because you're aware of their surveillance – you're far too engrossed in your book to pay mind to the blinking red light on the nanny cam. But because only depraved men gets off to unsuspecting hens, especially the ones they hired in good faith to take care of their child while they're away.

It's a dirty, dirty thrill that roars through him as Simon wraps an arm around his waist, palming his hard-on through his trousers. And it's a dirty thrill he wants no part of.

"Practically leakin' in your pants, boy. First time you see a pair of tits?" In the small mirror before him, he watches his pants get pulled down past his ass, underwear stained a deeper swatch of blue where his tip spits prespend.

It might as well be the first time, way he's humping Simon's hand like an over-eager mutt. Though he can't manage to choke it out through the rough groans pressing his vocal chords. Instead, what escapes him is a pathetic mess of trembling letters. "S'not... fookin, not– not–"

"Shhh, it's okay. She's jus' so pretty, yeah? Can't help but chub up and beg me to rub your aching cock, wishing it was her darlin' hand wrapped 'round you instead. I know."

"Nn, nae, Sim- Si– I wouid never... Ah!"

It's dry. A little raw. He makes no effort to lube his calloused palm to help it glide easier along Johnny's length, but he knows his boy better than he knows himself sometimes. That he needs pain when he's doing something bad like this, or else he'll lose himself to the guilt. A little bit of penance for the Catholic.

"Don' lie to me. Y'can't. But tha's alright," He pulls the foreskin off the head of his uncut mass, kneading a bit into his frenulum to watch the way white oozes against red. "I think about it too."

"A-Aye?"

"Hm. Think 'bout ya swallowing my cock while I sit 'er on my face. Bet she tastes sweet, like nectar. Jus' look at the thing." Which he does. You're seated a bit differently than you had been before. Less liberal. Wound up tight, with your nose buried in your book and your toes curled beneath your feet. Surely captured by some tense plot line or the other. "Would make you clean her cunt after I pump 'er full. Or vice versa, if she's into tha'."

"Yer a-aff yer heid... Fuck, I cannae–"

"That's it, Johnny. Let go, boy." Simon's strokes keep at the top, tugging in short, rough movements over the phone. The blanket now covers you fully, but it's no matter. The image of your breasts are now seared into both their minds, an array of fantasies unfurling before them, each nastier than the last. "Jus' like that."

Thick ropes of cum streak over the screen and sink countertop. It's weeks worth of pent up frustration, a culmination of despair and desire as a stuttered moan claws up Johnny's throat. The hand leaves his cock only when he starts shooting blanks, clenching tight at the overstimulation.

Simon makes him lick the mess off his palm.

(And unbeknownst to them, they'd hit the mic on their way to the bathroom.

You'd heard the whole thing.)

[huggingkoalas]

𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | natasha romanoff

pairing — ‧₊˚ avenger!natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary — ‧₊˚ natasha comes home to find an intruder in her house. the encounter takes an unexpected turn as authority gives way to desire.

word count — ‧₊˚ 2.5k

warning(s) — ‧₊˚ smut, roleplay, spanking, use of strap-ons, cockwarming, gunplay(?), ‘mommy’ kink, subspace/headspace, cursing, degradation, praising, teasing, pet names, established relationship, bottom!reader, top!natasha

authors note — ‧₊˚ phew i might've gone too crazy for my first natasha romanoff fic, oops? hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i did writing it <3

As Natasha reached into her pocket, her fingers found the familiar shape of her keys. She unlocked the door to her house with the key, the weariness in her muscles evident as she used more force than usual. She yearned for nothing more than to take a soothing bath and a well-deserved night of sleep after a long day of doing post-mission briefings and reports at the Avengers compound.

As she stepped through the wooden frame and gently closed the door behind her, she effortlessly kicked off her boots and let them fall to the side. She slipped her black leather jacket off her shoulders and laid it temporarily over the back of the sofa. She yawned and massaged her right shoulder with her left arm, groaning as she pressed on the sensitive spot.

It had been another exhausting day. Despite her love for her job as an Avenger, she had to admit that the long missions and overwhelming workload had begun to take its toll on her. The only positive aspect of her job was the joy she brought to children’s faces every time they saw her and called her ‘my favourite hero’. Furthermore, Natasha earned more than enough money to buy a house away from the compound. As much as she liked her team, she favoured the peace of being alone after a long day.

Lost in her thoughts about work, she suddenly felt the cold night breeze whisper against her skin. A moment of confusion etched on her face. Her eyebrows furrowed as she realized the patio doors leading to her backyard were ajar, casting a shadow on the hardwood floors.

Had I forgotten to close it?

I swear I closed it before I left the house.

Natasha walked towards the patio door, closed it and turned the lock firmly. She was not the type to forget things easily. She couldn’t get rid of the persistent feeling that something wasn’t right.

Just as she was about to turn away from the patio door, she noticed a trail of muddy footprints leading into the house from the backyard. Her heart dropped as she realized someone had broken into her home while she was gone. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of the intruder in the home with her at the very moment. With careful and silent steps, she traced the trail of prints with her eyes, leading her down the hallway.

Natasha slowly reached behind her back and pulled out her pistol from its concealed position in her waistband. Her mind raced, and adrenaline surged through her veins. Wrapping both her hands around the grip, her index finger rested on the trigger guard, pointing the gun at a slightly downward angle. 

She mentally prepared herself for any potential confrontation. She took a deep breath, her senses heightened, and cautiously continued to follow the muddy footprints. The trail led her to her master bedroom, the door firmly closed.

With her back pressed against the adjacent wall, Natasha listened intently for any movement beyond the door. She closed her eyes, straining her ears for any sound. A faint and muffled shuffling sound barely reached her ears. Just as she was open about to the door, she took a long breath, steeling herself for what lay beyond her.

“Freeze!” She called out, pushing the door open with a swift turn of the doorknob. Her voice was authoritative and firm as she stared at the intruder, her hands maintaining a firm grip on the pistol. 

Realization flashed across her face momentarily as she recognized the intruder’s face, though she masked it well. Caught off guard, you looked up with widened eyes as you saw Natasha pointing a gun at you. You raised your hands in mock surrender, standing tall with your head held high.

“It’s not what it looks like.” You tried to explain, steadying your nerves.

“Put your hands behind your back, now.” Natasha commanded, her tone unwavering as she ignored your attempts at explaining yourself.

You slowly lowered your hands and placed them behind your back. You didn’t seem daunted by the situation in the least. Natasha maintained a stern expression, lowering her pistol and holstering it back in her waistband. 

She stepped forward, her expression hinting at a momentary diversion of her thoughts. The dim light from the window accentuated your features, and she found herself momentarily captivated by your beauty. Her gaze lingered for an extra beat. She couldn’t deny that you looked mesmerizing and absolutely ravishing.

“What’s your name?” Natasha inquired, her tone assertive but curious.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” Natasha repeated. “You don’t seem afraid at all.”

She stopped in front of you. As you subtly shifted your stance, your hair cascaded gracefully over one shoulder, giving her a whiff of your sweet vanilla perfume. Tension lingered between you as you met her gaze through lowered lashes. 

Your eyes briefly travelled down, and you couldn’t help but notice a bulge between Natasha’s pants. A subtle swallow and a discreet bite of your bottom lip betrayed the mutual awareness of the heightened tension. You could see the impressive girth outlined through her pants. Her breath hitched as she saw the lust and need reflecting in your eyes.

“Face the wall.” Natasha ordered, ignoring the tension between the both of you.

A smile on your lips formed as an idea appeared in your head. You stepped closer to her, leaving no space between you two. You turned around, with your hands still behind your back, leaning back to press your ass to her groin.

“Guess you’ll have to arrest me like this, miss...?” You glanced over your shoulder, asking for her name.

“Natasha.” She responded with a shaky breath, her hands aching to grab your hips and press you against her. She tried to resist the urge to give in to her impulses, trying to maintain her professional demeanour.

Your breathing became laboured, your lips parting slightly. You reached behind your back and reached for Natasha’s bulge, feeling the outline of the strap-on. She groaned, a ‘fuck’ escaping her lips as she grabbed your hips and pressed your ass against her groin harder, giving in to the temptation.

“Such a fucking slut.” Natasha’s eyes were a mix of authority and desire. 

“N-Nat-” You knew she’d be hot and bothered by your actions, but-

She leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss to your temple. “Shut up.” She whispered hotly in your ear. “Take your clothes off, now.”

You wasted no time removing your clothes, letting them fall around your legs as you kept your panties on. Natasha sat down on the edge of the king-size bed and patted her lap.

“Over my lap.” Her voice was void of emotion, and her words hit you like a bucket of ice water. You knew what was happening next and obeyed without saying a word, fear creeping into your stomach. Your stomach rested on her lap, your head and legs dangling beside her thighs. The rough fabric of her pants hitting your clothed folds made you shiver, your cheeks turning a bright shade of red.

She ran her hands over the curve of your ass, her touch light as a feather along the seam where flesh met lace. The delicacy of her touch caused goosebumps to form on your skin.

“I think you deserve ten spanks, don’t you agree?” Natasha retorted. It was a rhetorical question and you didn’t have the confidence to turn her down anyway.

She lifted your hips to push your panties down to your knees, trapping your thighs closed. Her hands, which had been so gentle a moment before, dug roughly into your ass, leaving crescent-shaped impressions on your skin. 

A powerful smack echoed, and you arched forward with the force of it against your ass. Natasha’s thumb rubbed over your red and sore cheek. You tried to keep track of how many smacks she had given you so far, but after the third smack, your thoughts became blank as you moaned uncontrollably. As much of a punishment as it was, you couldn’t deny that you liked it when she spanked you. Even your hips pushed into her hands during each blow. 

“I wish you could see yourself right now. Making a mess all over my thigh while I spank you like the naughty girl you are.” Natasha chuckled, finishing the last few blows on your bright red flesh. Taking a deep breath, you grit your teeth against the red-hot pain emanating from your ass.

“Such a good little slut for mommy.” She kneaded the supple flesh and leaned down to treat each of your cheeks to a kiss. “You did so well for me, good girl.”

You squirmed fruitlessly under her touch, whimpering as the sticky juices ran down your thighs. “M-Mommy..” You whispered, trying to angle your hips against her thigh to give yourself some pleasure.

“You’re not cumming on my thigh. On your knees for me, milaya devushka (sweet girl).” Her voice was honey-like, her hands gently scratching over your scalp. Her soothing touch lulled you slowly, and you hummed in response.

Releasing yourself from her lap, you knelt before her, her knees spread on either side of you. You steadfastly refused to acknowledge the pain beneath your flesh. The rough carpet dug into your knees, but the thought of obeying her was all that mattered to you.

Natasha stood up, quickly removing her clothes and tossing them aside. Your eyes looked up at her submissively, and your mouth salivated as your gaze fell on the strap-on around her waist. She sat back down, spreading her legs and pushing you closer to her body. Neither of you spoke, the room falling silent apart from the ticking sounds of the clock and steady breathing. She watches your body relax the longer you kneel for her, sensing the moment you slip into subspace. 

“Do you know what cockwarming is, detka (baby)?” You nod slowly and open your lips, darting your tongue out. Natasha guides her length between them, and you moan at the heaviness of it, resting your cheek against her thigh. Your cheeks are flushed, and your eyes flutter shut. She watches you in your kneeling position, noticing your body swaying unconsciously.

She holds her body upright with an elbow behind her back, running her fingers through your hair. Your thighs ache, and your mouth is full of saliva, but eventually, you begin to relax into her.

“Good girl.” Natasha whispers, the praise slipping from her lips. She almost purrs with satisfaction as she feels you melt further into her. “So perfect for me.”

You don’t know how long you stay on your knees with her in your mouth. You whine as she begins to take your mouth from her, your fingers digging into her skin, trying to hold her in place as you swallow back her length.

“Shhh... It’s alright, you’ve done great.” Natasha smiles and brushes her thumb over your cheek. You let her pull you off of her and bring you into her lap. 

You tuck your face into her neck, whining as you slowly release from the subspace. You begin to realize yourself aching with emptiness, and you whimper as her strap brushes against the sensitive, soaked skin between your thighs. You begin rocking in her lap slowly.

“Shit, so wet for me, hmm?” Natasha drops her hands to your hips and lets you rut down against her lap, grunting as your breasts bounce in her face as you move. She leans down and sucks one between her lips, grazing her teeth against the hardening nub softly.

“P-Please, Mommy.” You whine, arching against her. She nods as she reaches between the both of you to wrap her hand around the silicone. Soaked in your arousal and saliva, the both of you moan as she presses the head of the strap-on into your entrance. 

Natasha cups your face and guides you into a kiss as she begins pressing inside, and you moan into her open mouth as she stretches you, the length thick and hard and hot as it sinks inside of you. 

“Fuck, dorogaya (sweetheart). You’re so tight for me.” She murmurs, and you’re heavily panting as you settle in her lap, her length nestled fully inside you.

Clenching the walls of your pussy a few times, you groan as Natasha holds your hips, raising you on your shaking legs before dropping you back down on her length.

“Nat, I need… Please…” You can’t find the word to explain the way your thighs shake from exertion, or how your whole body feels like fucking jelly, but Natasha knows, she always does.

“I’ve got you, malyshka (babygirl).” Natasha murmurs. You whimper as she wraps her hands around your thighs. She helps you rise and fall on her length, thrusting her hips up quickly and deeper to meet you as you fall back down. She kisses you, lips wet and hot as both of your bodies are covered in a thin sheen of sweat. You can’t seem to think of anything else past the haze of arousal.

“M-Mommy, I’m close.” You whimper, and she drops her mouth to your neck, her tongue and lips sucking and her teeth biting. She breathes hotly against your neck, against the mark she’s just made.

You whimper and drop your forehead onto her shoulder, closing your eyes and moistening your lips. You’re sliding along her sweaty skin as she fucks you hard and fast, her fingers digging into the skin of your thighs as she helps you rise and-

“Cum for me, moya lyubov’ (my love).” Your breath comes in short gasps as Natasha wraps an arm around your waist and pulls your body as close to her as she can.  

“Oh God-” You moan and cum hard, your whole body shaking as she continues to fuck you, splitting you open. Natasha trembles beneath you as you writhe above her. Breathing sharply, she murmurs words of comfort and praise to you as you tremble in her arms, coming down from your high.

Natasha lifts you from her lap and lays you gently on the bed. You hiss as you feel a hint of pain as she slides off of you. She lies down next to you and looks at you, giggling as she looks at your face after your orgasm.

“Well, that was something. I never thought you’d have it in you to try out one of my fantasies.” You smile softly and turn your head towards her.

Natasha laughs, and the sweet sound echoes through the room. “Well, I want to please you, detka (baby). Did you like it?”

“Of course.” You reach forward to stroke her cheek and kiss her gently. Natasha pulls back and presses her forehead against yours, sighing in happiness. “Can't deny that it was really hot when you were acting all commanding and authoritative to me though.”

Natasha's shakes her head, smirking. “Alright, weirdo. Get some sleep.”

“Yes, Mommy.” You teased, sticking your tongue out playfully.

After a few minutes of synchronized breathing, exhaustion catches up to you. Your breathing slows down and you fall asleep. Natasha pulls the covers over you, snuggling against your side and splaying an arm across your waist.

“I love you so much, Y/N.” She whispers in your ear, a soft smile on her lips as she falls asleep next to her beloved.

[cosmossystem]

Curious System / Plural Ask Game

inclusive of all system types :] feel free to send an ask, or reblog if you want to play too!

❤ Is anyone in-system in a relationship? What kind(s)?

🌹 Does your system have any inhuman members? If so, what species are they?

🐾 Is your system mostly human or inhuman members? Somewhere in between?

🧡 How does your system handle memories? Does everyone share, or is it split across members? (Feel free to be as vague or specific as you want, or skip this question.)

⭐ Do you have a headspace / inner world? What does it look like?

💛 How long have you known about your system / plurality?

🌻 How did you discover your system / plurality? (Feel free to be as vague or specific as you want, or skip this question.)

🌙 How does your system handle dreams? Do you share dreams, or are they specific to one member? Do any members show up in dreams?

💚 Do you have any funny stories about another system member(s) or about being a system?

🍀 Do any system members practice a religion or belief system? What about spirituality?

❄ Do you have a favorite memory related to your system? (i.e. something that happened in headspace or something that another member did.)

💙 Does your system have any introjects? Do they typically come from the same source / origin, or is it more varied?

🧵 How does your system handle the body's / vessel's appearance? Does everyone dress the same, or is there a broad range of styles?

💜 What's your favorite part of being plural / in a system?

🌺 Do any members consider other system members to be family? In other words, does your system have any internal families (such as siblings, caretakers, parents, etc.) ?

🌸 Does your system have any inside jokes?

🎀 Does your system share everything in the outer world / meatspace? Does anyone have any objects / items that are solely theirs?

🤎 Do system members typically agree on things or is there a broad range of opinions?

🖤 How does your system make important collective decisions? Does one person call the shots, or is it a group effort?

🚀 Do any members speak another language? What about multiple languages? Does everyone speak the same language(s), or does it vary?

🌼 Do any members have accents or typing quirks? Are accents/quirks common in your system, or more rare?

☁ How does your system handle switching? Can you switch easily, or does it take more effort? Are there a lot of switches?

🔬 Does everyone in your system typically share skills and hobbies, or does it vary between members? Does anyone have any unique or strange hobbies / skills?

🏁 How has your system changed over time, if it has? Such as a new influx of members, a change in headspace, or a new structure. (Feel free to be as vague or specific as you want, or skip this question.)

🔎 Is there any other trivia about your system you'd like to share?

🤍 Say something positive about another system member (or all of them, if you'd like!)

[silvergyus]

Congrats on 500! Well deserved 😊

I have an obsession of txt's noises so::: Most to least likely to be the loudest in bed and what do you think they sound like? 😀

omg I can't believe this took me this long to get to this! if I think about txt's noises too long I have to sit down and drink a glass of ice water with a big fan, cartoon style lmao. I hope that this furthers your obsession🤭

MOST

YEONJUN

when he feels good his brain just slows down and he's just stream of consciousness saying what he feels. the ideal man (imo) because he's just talking the whole time. "yeah, you like that?" and "ohhhh so pretty for me" in the span of two seconds. when he's in a clear headspace he'll def talk you through it, but when he starts feeling really good he's just kinda blabbering. whines when he gets close. isn't one to outright moan so often, but whines and yaps please be loud for him too. likes hearing you moan and whimper and cry out his name. loves hearing how good he makes you feel

BEOMGYU

has two modes: soft quiet baby boy and motormouth menace. when you have soft sex he is the sweetest baby, quiet and gentle. soft sighs falling quietly from his pretty lips. the sounds of your kisses louder than any noise he makes. but when the two of y'all are fucking, that's a whole different story. runs his mouth telling you what to do, how he likes it, how good you feel. when he gets like this you'd better hope no one else is even on the floor because he doesn't care who hears you likes hearing you but also loves making you stay quiet. quickies in the dressing room with his hand over your mouth. fucking you into the mattress when he knows soobin and kai are in the living room playing league

HUENINGKAI

isn't really loud on purpose but makes so many pretty noises that they add up. lots of soft "oh"s and "mmmh"s when you take off your clothes or make him feel good. please please please run your nails across his back when he's fucking you. lets out the prettiest hiss of breath when you do and fucks you faster. always tries to bury his face in your neck or chest when he cums because he can't help the sounds he makes. completely dead silent if he's being a brat or trying to punish you, but if there aren't any dynamics at play he is just a sweet boy who can't help the sound he makes

SOOBIN

doesn't really say much because his head goes dumb when he feels you on his cock, but he has lots of involuntary noises. boobie lover soobin will let out a soft groan when you pull your top off, a sharp intake of breath when you let him touch them, and a loud, embarrassing groan when you let him put his face in them. whines if you tease him but if you're being nice expect heavy breathing and soft moans against your skin. moans loudly when he cums- head falling back, eyes squeezing shut- but gets shy after (what if the other boys heard?)

TAEHYUN

will talk you through it on occasion, but is generally more of a soft sighs and quiet grunts type of guy. the kind of guy to not say much but will whisper a "you're so beautiful" in the middle that makes you melt gets off on your noises though. part of why he's so quiet is that he wants to hear every sound you make. if something he does makes you moan or whimper, he'll keep doing it until you cum again and again. anything and everything to hear you

LEAST

[wriothesleybear]

Gallagher and playful bites

~warnings: mostly fluff, slight spice at the end, fem!reader, MDNI!

~a/n: I can't get over his voice line of how he was a menace when he was younger and would just bite everyone. Also, his 'rawr' at the end. I can't! I love him so much! ;-;

Gallagher is a goofball and he seems like the type to playfully bite his s/o. He'd bite you anywhere really, but his favorite places to bite you the most is on your neck, shoulders, and thighs. One time when you two were cuddling on the couch, you were absentmindedly rubbing his stubble, enjoying the feel of it as you watched TV. As you were distracted, he caught your finger in his mouth and softly bit down. The unexpected action pulled your attention away from the TV. Scowling at him, you ask, "What was that for?" He doesn't even acknowledge your question. Instead, his attention is fully focused on the film playing. He sits innocently as if he didn't just bite your finger for no reason.

Early mornings are filled with soft touches, slow kisses and playful nibbles. As soon as he wakes up, he turns over and immediately wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. The ticklish feel of his stubble causes you to wake from your sleep. You sleepily giggle, wiggling in his hold. "Good morning beautiful." He says in his sexy, morning voice. His voice is deeper and has a lower baritone in the mornings when he first wakes up. The sound so calming and soothing that it makes you want to fall back to sleep. The warmth from his body keeps you comfortable and shielded from the cold morning air. His hand slowly rubs your stomach as his lips trail soft kisses down your neck to your shoulder. As you relish in the feel of his soft touches, he unexpectedly leaves a little bite, snapping you out of your peaceful headspace. "We've barely woken up and you're already biting me." You tease. He smirks against your skin, continuing to lay little pecks across your skin. His teasing nibbles and kisses tickle the skin of your neck, causing you to burst into laughter. You try to push him away, but his arms tighten their hold on you, bringing you closer against his body, making you unable to escape his tickle attack. He finally stops once he thinks you've had enough and you promise him kisses.

When his head is buried between your legs, he spends extra time worshipping your beautiful thighs. Trailing your skin with kisses as his hands rub your thighs. Praises and compliments leave his lips in between kisses. While your mind is hazy with pleasure from his ministrations, he nibbles and licks marks into your skin. Once he's done, your thighs are decorated in his marks, claiming you as his. "Always a beautiful sight to see after I've finished."

[nostalgicsummers]

Asks about your fictional caregiver!

This is for everyone who has any type of fictional caregiver, regardless of if that's platonic, romantic, ect! Be respectful when asking and remember to send an ask to the person who you reblog this from!

I will be making a fictional regressor version soon as well!

🐶. Who are your fictional caregivers? Do you have a 'main' one?

🐳. Is there an age and/or animal you find yourself regressing to around your caregiver? Alternatively if you have multiple fictional caregivers is there a different age and/or animal you regress to around each one?

🐇. Talk about your relationship! Is it platonic, romantic, ect, what is your dynamic like?

🦖. What can your fictional caregiver do to get you into your regression headspace?

🐙. Do they have any nicknames for you? Is there meaning behind them?

🐛. Does your fictional caregiver a specific type of caregiver? (Ie a parental caregiver, a doctor caregiver, an angel caregiver, ect)

🐧. Is there anything your caregiver helps you with while you're regressed?

🦝. What are they like as a caregiver? Feel free to talk about as many as you want.

🐏. What would your fictional caregiver do if you were upset? How would they comfort you?

🐄. If you had a nursery how would you decorate it? Would your caregiver(s) be allowed to decorate it too?

🐘. If you had a play date with another fictional regressor or fictional caregiver who would they be? Would you like to do anything specific with them?

🐯. What would your ideal day with your fictional caregiver look like?

🐭. What meals and/or treats would they make you? Is there something they only really make you when you're regressed?

🦉. Do you have any regression gear that you use around them?

🦄. Do they have any particular activities they like doing while you're regressed?

🐈. Do they have any toys they like to play with you while you're regressed?

��. Do you have any TV shows you'd watch together? Are they 'typical' regression shows?

🐼. Do you have any video games that you would play with your fictional caregiver?

🐍. If you want to make an edit based around your relationship with your caregiver(s)

🐝. Talk about your fictional caregiver! It can be any information you want to share about them- It doesn't need to be caregiver or regression related!

🐤. Free space for any question I missed!

[bongsandblushes]

Some lovely pictures I got from a scene I did last night. My back got so sensitive that I floated from just a hand being placed between my shoulder blades

[siriussslut]

stepdad!sirius fucks you in the dressing room

warnings: stepcest, daddy kink, size kink, penetration, stomach bulge, mirror sex, semi-public sex, use of “slut”, “whore”, and “good girl”

masterlist

you rearrange your outfit one last time before poking your head out from behind the dressing room curtain. your mom is trying to tame your little brother who is racing around the shop, while sirius, your step-dad, types furiously at his phone, probably a work email.

“daddy? can you help me zip my dress?”

he looks up distractedly. “uh, yeah, one sec.”

you step back towards the mirror and grin excitedly.

after what feels like forever, but in reality is nothing more than a minute, you hear his footsteps approach the dressing room, and the curtain slides open. his eyes widen at the sight of you and he swiftly shuts the curtain behind him, stepping into the small space with you.

“what are you wearing?” he hisses.

you step closer, pressing your chest against his abdomen. you’re almost completely exposed, a small, lacy, red bodice the only thing covering your skin. the smell of his cologne fills your nose, and you feel the cloth slightly dampen towards the bottom. you jut your lower lip out in a pout, looking up at him through your lashes. “thought you’d like it?”

“oh, believe me, i do, but- your mother’s right outside.” you do believe him, the boner up against your belly makes it hard not to.

you grin. “we’ll be quiet then.”

you can sense his resistance, so you press your palm against his tent, and you feel him crumble beneath you.

“fine. but you better be quiet,” he says, voice gruff, immediately switching to a harsher headspace.

you smile and bite your lip, nodding happily. you continue to palm him through his pants, but he slaps your hand away.

“i didn’t give you permission to touch, slut.”

you pull your hand away with a whimper.

“turn around,” he orders.

you do as he says, turning to face yourself in the mirror. you notice your nipples poking through the thin cloth of the lingerie.

you watch his reflection as he undoes his belt, letting his pants fall to the floor. he slips out of his briefs, and his cock springs free. you almost whimper at the familiar sight of it. it’s big and pale, the tip a bright red.

he reaches over and grabs one of your breasts, tipping you forward slightly so that you have to rest your hand on the mirror’s surface to stay upright, leaving a sweaty handprint.

he shoves the cloth covering your pussy aside, and you watch him push his dick inside. you suppress a moan at the feeling of him entering, and he slides in all the way until you can feel him in your stomach. a small whimper escapes your lips as he plays with your breast, and he slaps your ass with his free hand.

“quiet, whore. good girls don’t make noise.”

“s-sorry, daddy.”

he fucks you at a ruthless pace, forcing tears into your eyes. you try to blink them away, only for him to slap you again. “don’t close them. i want you to watch.” he gestures at the mirror. “watch as i destroy your little pussy.”

you comply despite the difficulty, refusing to let daddy down.

every time he thrusts, you can see his dick make a bulge in your stomach. he pinches your nipple before trailing his hand down to play with your clit, your cunt dripping all over his hand and onto the floor.

“y/n?” your mother calls from outside. this seems to turn sirius on further, if his cock twitching inside of you is anything to go by.

you blink, trying to sort through the blissful haze that is your brain. “y-yes, mom?”

“everything alright?”

“yeah. z-zipper’s stuck.”

“do you need my help?” a footstep, almost right outside the dressing room. the thought of getting caught seems to throw sirius over the edge, despite his earlier protests, and you feel him twitch one more time before losing control, filling your insides with his cum.

you suppress a moan. “n-no! dad’s helping me.”

“alright. hurry up.”

sirius stills inside of you, breathing heavily against your back. you clench around him, and he slips his dick out. you step away from the now fogged-up mirror as he zips up his pants.

“d-daddy, i didn’t come yet!” you reach to grab his sleeve as he leaves, mascara-filled tears trailing down your face.

“be a good girl and keep my cum safe inside of you until we get home, and maybe then i’ll consider it.” and with that he goes, leaving you dripping and aching.

[freedomfireflies]

Pillowtalk*

Summary: An extra for Mine*

Save a horse, ride a pillow.

Turns out, Harry isn't always so forgiving.

Word Count: 4.4k

(This one shot is separate from the events of the last extra!! Just something smutty for fun!)

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞 You are so much more important!*

You know you’ve fucked up even before Harry walks through the door.

He’s normally a very patient man. Very forgiving. Understanding.

But you know today will be different.

See, you’ve done the one thing he absolutely hates, more than anything in the world:

You’ve lied to him.

Or rather, you’ve refused him. Refused his suggestion. His offer to help you relieve some tension. And not because you don’t want to or because you feel uncomfortable. Because you know if you’d used your safe word, he would have dropped it instantly, no questions asked.

But you know he’s been watching you for the past few days. Noticing how you rut against him in your sleep. Throw a leg over his thigh and grind down without even realizing. Whimper beneath your breath at the faint contact before curling into his side.

See, you’ve been fighting your subspace for weeks. You’re not sure why it’s kept trying to creep up on you. Maybe you’re lonely. Maybe you’re in heat. Maybe you just need Harry to fuck you into the mattress to set things right.

But he’s been incredibly busy. And stressed. And the thought of bothering him with this has been out of the question. So, you’ve kept it to yourself.

It wasn’t until Asher found you squeezing a pillow between your thighs earlier today that Harry became aware of how serious it was.

Asher had called him instantly and told him before Harry made him put you on the phone. He was anxious to fix it for you, asking if you’d like to come to the warehouse so he could help you out. He’d play with you, kiss you, cuddle you, and make everything better.

But you hadn’t wanted to be a bother. You’d brushed him off, told him you were fine. You’d watch some TV and get over it.

And he hadn’t liked this, instead suggesting that he leave work altogether and come home so he could dedicate the rest of his day to you.

Another proposition that you refused. Insisting once more that you didn’t want to take up any of his time. You knew he was busy, and this was nothing. You weren’t an animal. You’d be fine.

It was your second refusal that upset him. The way you lied just to please him. How you put his needs above your own.

You knew he wanted to chastise you over the phone, but he simply offered a solemn but chilling goodbye before the line went dead.

So, you handed the phone back to Asher with a sheepish raise of your eyebrows.

He tutted sympathetically as he said, “Oh, sweetheart. You’ve done it now.”

It became clear then just how badly you’d fucked up. And you could do nothing but wait for your boyfriend’s return as the anxious pit in your stomach began to form.

This is how Harry finds you a couple of hours later. You’ve been anticipating him, his driver having radioed to Asher about his arrival before he left.

And you’ve done nothing but pace the living room floor, practicing what you’ll say when you see him. Which will be any second now. You can hear him coming up the stairs, the heavy boots on his feet echoing in from the hall. 

He can’t be that mad. He can’t. Not after he hears your side. 

You’ll start with a string of apologies and then an explanation. And maybe he’ll understand because sometimes you don’t think when you’re in this type of headspace, and surely he’ll be able to see that. Surely he’ll listen to reason—

“Hi, mama.”

The normally loving nickname is murmured beneath a low strain of voice, and you look up from the carpet to find the man of the hour.

Shit.

He’s standing by the now closed door, eyes narrowed, and expression stern. His tongue is running over his bottom lip and he casually makes his way into the apartment just as Asher steps out of the room.

“Hi,” you call timidly, hands sliding behind your back as you wait for him to approach. “How was…how was your day?”

“Fine,” he replies after a long moment of pause. “Before I got a rather upsetting phone call.”

You swallow, lashes fluttering the closer he gets. “I know, I’m sorry. I…look, you’ve been under a lot of stress, and I know you were just trying to help, but I didn’t want to—”

“No,” he says simply, bringing your spiel to a halt. “No, I don’t want to hear you speak again until I give you permission to do so. Is that understood?”

Instantly, your lips press together as you nod once. Shit, shit, shit.

“Good.” He takes another step, and it feels as though he sucks the air right out of your lungs. “Do you understand why I’m upset?”

Another nod, wordless.

“Do you understand that I don’t like when you lie to me?”

Nod.

“Do you understand that if you’re struggling or floating away from me, I need to know?” He’s close enough now that you can smell the faintest whisper of cigarettes and cologne. An oddly comforting mix. “That if you lie to me when you’re in your subspace, it’s incredibly dangerous? And scary?”

You hadn’t thought of it like that. In fact, it never even crossed your mind to imagine how he might feel to be put in this sort of position again. Especially after the last time. 

 Guilt crawls up the back of your neck as you fight the urge to look down at the floor, forcing eye contact with the tall man before you. 

You motion your agreement once more before Harry’s hardened expression softens.

“Did you know you were slipping?” he asks gently, now reaching out to brush his palm along your cheek. “Because if this was an accident, and you weren’t sure, then I won’t be mad at you, sugar.”

You could say no. You could get yourself out of this mess with one simple word. Make him happy. Reassure him.

But…you knew. You had a suspicion even if you weren’t one hundred percent sure. And lying to him again will only make the damage worse.

You press your hand over his, keeping it against your face. Soaking up the contact and the few short moments of his relaxed demeanor you have left.

“Yes,” you whisper quietly. Bashfully. You don’t look at him. You look at the collar on his shirt, willing the tears to stay inside. “And I was scared.”

He takes hold of your other cheek now, grasping onto you with concern and love as his brows furrow. “Scared how, mama? What can I do?”

You whimper, fingers slipping around his wrists. “I didn’t want to take you away from your work. It was more important. And I didn’t want you to fall behind or feel like you had to help me. I thought I would be okay, that I could fight it. And I could wait until you weren’t as busy.”

He’s still frowning but it’s softer now. As though he’s in great pain. “My sweet girl,” he exhales, stepping closer until your chests brush. “I never…ever feel like I have to help you. I want to help you. I thought you knew that.”

And you do. But when you’re in that sort of mindset…

He sighs. “I never meant to neglect you. Or leave you here or make you wait. You are the most important thing in the fucking world to me. There’s a reason I have so many men working for me, and it’s so they can take over whenever I need them to. Whenever I have better places to be. Like here. With you.”

A tear falls but his thumb gingerly wipes it away.

“I worry about you all the goddamn time,” he murmurs, and your stomach flips. “It’s hard enough being away from you, but knowing you were in so much pain and so much frustration when I wasn’t here to fix it for you makes my fucking skin crawl. It’s the scariest thing in the world to me to know you’ve slipped when I’m not here.”

You nuzzle into his touch, remorse clouding your vision.

“It’s even scary when I am here,” he whispers, almost as if admitting a secret. “Because it proves how much you trust me. And all I want to do is keep you safe, keep you mine. Keep you. In any way I can.”

“I know,” you finally say. “I know, I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to upset you.”

He scoffs a bit beneath his breath, like it wounds him to hear you say this, and you can see the repercussions of it on his face.

“Sugar,” he breathes, “asking for my attention will never upset me. My attention belongs to you. It’s yours, always, every fucking second of every fucking day. Even if it’s just a headache and you need me to come home, I will. I will always put you first.”

Your heart feels as though it blooms in your chest.

“And if I can’t be there,” he continues, “I know there’s someone else here to keep you safe until I can be.”

With this, he glances over his shoulder toward his second-in-command, who’s now leaning against the doorframe, watching you both closely. 

Surprised, and a bit relieved, you and Asher exchange a small, knowing smile before you look back to Harry. “I know. I’m sorry. Really.”

And you can tell this hasn’t fixed anything, but he seems somewhat comforted by this as he leans forward and presses his lips to yours. His palms pressing hard into your cheeks to keep you close.

“I know,” he echoes, leaning back and releasing you. “But you still lied to me. When you knew better. And actions have consequences, don’t they, mama?”

Your blood runs cold as you nod mutely and watch him walk toward the couch. He’s relaxed yet firm. The air in the room shifting instantaneously while he nods at Asher who begins walking closer as well.

Everything is spinning, your head, your heart, your stomach. You have no idea what to expect next, and as Harry takes a seat, you decide that you probably aren’t going to like it.

“I promised I would always take care of you,” he begins, throwing an arm over the back of the sofa as his right-hand man comes over to sit beside him. “And I plan to keep that promise, even after you’ve been so disobedient.”

You notice now the large pillow in Asher’s hand, and a hundred and one questions flash through your mind as it’s handed to your boyfriend.

“So, that’s what I’m going to do,” Harry says, taking the object from him before tossing it toward the ground at your feet. “Gonna let you ride this pillow until you feel better.”

Oh.

It all clicks now. Makes perfect fucking sense and heat floods your cheeks as you look from the pillow to the two men in front of you. 

Harry nods his chin, the corner of his mouth curling up into a rather sadistic display of reassurance. “Go on.”

And you can’t refuse him again. Can’t argue or try to talk him out of it. He’s made up his mind. In fact, he probably decided on this the moment he hung up the phone earlier today.

Instead, you swallow thickly and slowly lower yourself onto your knees. You can’t deny that you’re slightly…thrilled by the idea. Something you assume Harry knew you would be. No matter how callous the man can be, he always puts your pleasure first. Even when he’s upset.

And yes, this is meant to humiliate you. Which it does.

But you like the idea of them watching you. Of them seeing the way you get yourself off with something as pathetic as a pillow.

“Uh-uh,” comes a warning tut, forcing your eyes up. Harry is frowning, head cocked to the side. “Panties off, mama. You know better.”

You do know better, and you nod mutely as you warily grab hold of your shorts to tug them down, your underwear following suit.

Now left in nothing but your thin tank top, you return to your position on the floor, hands on your thighs as you kneel before the pillow.

The men are far too relaxed as they settle back into the cushions, looking down at you with smug appreciation.

“Come on, Sugar,” Harry pushes, once more encouraging you to begin. “Haven’t got all day.”

And Asher smirks at this, arms crossing over his chest, focused eyes glued to yours.

So, with a deep inhale, you scoot forward, grabbing onto the pillow to angle it the way you need. Then, you straighten up a bit, pushing and fluffing the cushiony fabric just so before pulling it between your thighs. 

Once it’s in the right place and you feel comfortable in your straddle…you lower.

You can’t help but gasp as your cunt makes contact with the pillowcase, the soft yet somewhat rough material like ecstasy as it slides between your bare, silky folds. 

The boys are quiet. Far too quiet for your liking. Not even a hum of approval or a look of excitement. They watch you like they’re watching the daily news. Intrigued yet hardly fascinated. 

You suppose this is a part of your punishment, but it breeds something insatiable in your stomach. Making you want to earn their interest and admiration.

You begin to rock yourself back and forth. A steady rhythm, just to get started. The need you’ve been fighting for weeks returns tenfold, growing stronger with each brush of your clit against the side of the fabric.

Then, Harry speaks.

“Talked to Cal today,” he says to his partner, glancing over as if somehow, that conversation is more important than watching you soak the pillow between your legs.

It makes you frown.

“Yeah?” Asher responds, looking over as well. 

Harry nods. “He’s working on expanding the shipment. Said he found a way in.”

“Good. You think he can handle it?”

“Probably not, but that’s why it’s not the actual shipping container. I’m leaving that to you.”

Asher laughs, and the amused sound makes your stomach clench. “And what’ll you do if he finds out you’re testing him?”

“If he’s really on our side, he’ll understand,” Harry says simply. “And if he has a problem with it…we’ll take care of it.”

The ominous threat has you whining softly in the back of your throat as you squeeze your eyes shut and work your hips a little faster.

This time, Harry chuckles. “She’s cute, isn’t she?”

“Very,” Asher replies, and even without seeing them, you know they’re smirking at you. “Maybe she should disobey more often.”

“Maybe,” Harry agrees. “It’s more fun this way.”

Your head lifts, attention finding them as you plead with your boyfriend to have a little mercy on you.

But the second he sees you looking, he smiles and shakes his head.

The living room falls silent for just a moment as you continue to thrust against the material in search of more.

It’s building, slow at first and then really fast. A very prominent wet patch has begun to form and knowing you’ve most likely ruined this poor pillow makes you whimper as you arch your back.

Your knees slide on the carpet, spreading you open. Over and over and over you rut against the cushion, breathless and panting for air.

And it's nice. Tantalizing, in a sense. But it will never be the real thing. Never be able to satiate your appetite the way you want. Can't fill you, or fuck you, or leave you.

Yet, despite its faults, it helps get you there. And maybe you should have been doing this all along.

Harry’s focus glues to you now, eager to see you come, and it makes your heart soar as you sneak a glimpse of his handsome face. Punishment or not, having his eyes on you is like an honor. Knowing that he could be looking at anyone…but he’s looking at you.

Your orgasm rips through you like a tornado, tearing your insides apart as you practically collapse on the floor. Hips twitching while you attempt to ride it out.

Again, a certain quiet settles over the room, and you feel relieved to know you’ve completed this little exercise, no matter how degrading. You’re ready to jump up onto your feet, crawl into his lap, and bury yourself in his arms for the remainder of the night.

But it seems Harry has other plans, and he hums condescendingly when he sees you begin to sit up.

“Where you goin’, mama, hm?” he calls.

You blink.

“You’re not done yet,” he says, far too pleased for your liking. “In fact, you’re not done until I say you’re done.”

…shit.

“So, go on,” he instructs, once again nodding at you. “Give me another.”

With that, he leans back against the couch, leaving you to wilt under the stares of the two men above you. 

Shaking slightly from the aftershocks, you squirm a bit over the pillow and steady your stance. Then, with a deep breath, you lower yourself back down and drag your pussy over the side of the fluffy material. 

But you’re incredibly sensitive, and you instantly lift up with a mewl as you attempt to get away from the sensation.

“Sugar,” Harry warns, “s’part of your punishment, and you know it. You gonna make Daddy even more upset?”

It takes all your strength to whisper, “No,” before you begin again.

Pleased, they return to their previous conversation, allowing you to twitch atop the cushion as you whine and cry out pathetically from the overstimulation.

Your poor, puffy clit is rubbed raw against the pillowcase yet even through the slight pain, you feel relief. Because this type of ache makes you excited. Makes you want to find reprieve and drives you toward the end. 

So it’s not too difficult to work yourself back up, now grinding against the floor as though you’re a rabid animal in heat.

Your legs are sore, knees bruising from the harsh sting of the carpet. But you don’t mind. You can see how proud Harry is of you, even if he’s not always watching.

This is your punishment. And if taking it like a good girl will make him happy, you will. Take anything he gives you.

The second one is slower to form and unravel but it’s still just as potent. It forces a shudder to roll down your spine as you moan lewdly and tremble from your spot on the ground.

Hoping that this will be enough and that he’ll have a bit of compassion on you, you glance up expectantly.

However, he simply runs his tongue over his bottom lip.

With a slight sink in your stomach, you press your palms into the floor and readjust your straddle.

It aches a lot more now. And it’s so bad, it’s good. Tears are quick to slip down your cheeks as you writhe and buck against the fabric, joints strained, and pussy abused. It's damp between your legs. And while the idea is invigorating, you don't know how much more your body can handle.

“Please,” you whisper, glancing up through the water in your lashes to plead with the man before you. “Hurts.”

“Does it?” he coos, frowning some but it’s incredibly condescending. “Does it hurt as bad as you lying to me?”

You shiver again, choking on a soft, pathetic whimper as you continue to gyrate along the edge of the material. “Daddy, please—”

“No.” It’s so simple, it makes your stomach flip. “Keep going.”

“Please—”

“Mama,” he warns lowly, and a fresh wave of arousal seems to rush between your thighs. “Begging won’t help you today. You’re gonna keep going until I tell you to stop.”

So with a pitiful cry, you continue your thrusts along the pillow, chest heaving from the deep breaths you’re attempting to take.

Harry watches you closer now. Perhaps to make sure you’re all right, and knowing that he’s still worried about you, even when he’s dominating you, is all you need.

You try to make the most of your punishment. Try to get yourself to the next one the way he wants. And it almost kills you, but you carry on. Lowering your shaky fingers toward your cunt as you scoot up to make room.

You circle them around your clit a time or two, indulging in the way it feels. It’s not as teasing as a pillow and it makes you clench in a desperate flutter as you begin to thrust against your hand.

“Uh-uh,” he suddenly calls, a low bark of disapproval. “Did I tell you to touch yourself?”

And you could practically disappear through the floor from the chasting tone of voice as you glance up. “Need to—”

“No,” he repeats, just as unrelenting. “Move your fucking hand.”

“Please—”

“I said no. Would you like to make this worse?”

And that’s the last thing you want. Because the look in his eye tells you he’d happily leave you untouched for weeks on end if that’s what it took to help you learn.

And you’d rather this pain than that.

With a mangled gasp, you pull your fingers from your soaking pussy and instead raise them to your chest. Needing to please him somehow, and he’s always been privy to your breasts.

You take hold of the low-hanging neckline on your tank top and rip it down until your left tit is revealed. Then, you squeeze it in your hand—tight. Groping the delicate flesh as you rut atop the pillow. Exactly the way he asked.

You vaguely catch the way both men shoot you smug looks of approval, endlessly entertained with this little display as you’re left to your humiliation on the ground by their feet.

So, you switch your focus. Linger on the tent in your boyfriend's pants as you picture how hard he must be about now.

You're pleased that this degrading act of remorse is turning him on. And you wish, more than anything, that he'd take out his cock and present it to you.

You'd suck him into your mouth eagerly. Flick him with your tongue before dragging it along the underside. He'd be heavy and warm between your lips. His fingers would bury into your hair as he forced himself down your throat, making you swallow around him.

And he'd groan through gritted teeth. Praise you the way he loves to do. Or maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'd tell you how fucking pathetic you look with spit dribbling down your chin. Tell you that you can do better. That you need to be better to make him come.

The mere thought makes you stutter, sucking in a sharp inhale as you work your tit and cunt faster to the thought of him.

Always to the thought of him.

“That’s it,” Harry says, tossing both arms over the back of the sofa while his legs spread apart. “What a cute, pathetic little bunny, hm? Look at you, humping your poor pillow just to get some relief. Bet you like it, don’t you? Like showing us how desperate you are?”

You moan again as his words instantly and expertly work you back up that peak.

“Should I start calling you Bunny?” he continues, and Asher grins. “Are you my naughty Bunny, baby?”

Your eyes roll back, hips stuttering through the pace you’d begun to set as you cry a little harder and fight to keep going.

“Please,” you whisper, head shaking quickly. “Can’t…can’t do it—”

“Yes you can,” Harry corrects, a bit harder but still laced with encouragement. “Know you can, sugar. Come on—”

“No…no, hurts. Can’t—”

“Keep going,” he says. “Make us proud, Bunny. Don’t you wanna make Asher proud?”

And you can’t even look at the man in question because you’re so humiliated and so overcome with about ten different emotions. Instead, your focus finds the floor as you suck in a shaky breath.

“You’re all right, sweetheart,” you hear Asher offer, and it makes you whimper as you force your head up.

He’s smiling at you. It’s incredibly proud although still haughty, and it does something to this desperation you’ve already begun to succumb to.

“Go on,” he adds, and you drop to your elbows.

You become deranged. Yearning for this release more than anything in the world. 

You’re a blubbering mess, practically collapsed on the ground as you roll your hips at a swift pace.

“Please,” you whine again. “Need…can’t—”

“Shh,” Harry murmurs, now leaning forward as he rests his arms over his knees to peer down at you. “You’re okay. One more, Bunny, come on.”

This praise and encouragement are nice but not nearly as nice as the smell of him as he gets closer. You’d do anything to feel his hands on you. In any capacity. Do anything to have him hold you. Or kiss you. Or just make it better.

“Think of it as my face,” he adds, and you whimper just from the thought. “Know you love to ride my face, don’t you, mama? So go ahead. Ride that pillow like it’s me, yeah? Make me happy.”

It shouldn’t work so well, but it does. You can already picture the glistening of his chin. The puffiness of his lips, all swollen and red from how he’s licked you clean. The way he’ll pull your clit into his mouth by his teeth before releasing it. How he’ll scratch down your ass to keep you stuck to his tongue.

He’s always so good. So fucking good to you and the moment you imagine it…it hits you.

The noises you make are loud and incoherent, and you feel as though your body is being ripped apart by the cruel hands of the sadistic men before you. Despite the fact that they aren't even touching you.

You begin to weep dramatically the minute it subsides, which is only a second or two later, and instantly, Harry is dropping onto the floor in front of you.

“Okay, okay,” he whispers, quickly pulling you into his arms as Asher crouches as well to pull the pillow out from between your legs. Relieving you of the stimulation. “You’re okay, sweet girl. M’right here. You’re okay.”

He tucks your head under his chin as he strokes your back and cheek for comfort. And it’s so perfect. All you’ve ever wanted, but you can’t stop crying. Even if you aren’t inherently sad. 

You don’t know what you are.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you gasp, nose nuzzling into his shirt. Comforted by the warmth of his chest. “I’m sorry. Didn’t wanna make you angry. I’m so sorry—”

“Baby,” he exhales, holding onto you tighter. “I’m not angry. Promise. Could never be angry with you—”

“I hurt you,” you whimper, and you feel his breath catch. “I hurt you, Daddy. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to hurt you. Was trying to be good. Trying to be patient—”

“Oh, my darling love,” he whispers, pulling you away from his body only so he can shower your face with kisses. “I know, baby, I know. You are so good to me. So patient, so kind. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

Your fingers clutch onto his dark button-up as though he’s going to let you go. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t have to be sorry,” he hushes you, eyes flicking to Asher as they exchange a certain look before Harry is nodding once and Asher is standing to his feet. “It’s okay. It’s over, yeah? I’m here.”

You sniffle as you watch the other man go, lashes filling with water again. “Where’s he going? Did I make him mad?”

“Never,” Harry tells you, nuzzling his nose against your cheek and snaking his arms even tighter around your frame. “Never, mama. He’s just getting the bed ready.”

You look back, blinking some of the wetness away. “Oh? What for?”

“I wanna hold you,” he says simply, leaving another kiss to your bottom lip to help it stop quivering. “Haven’t gotten to hold you in forever. Just wanna sleep with you in my arms for a bit. Is that okay? Can Daddy do that?”

“Yes,” you say quickly, nodding. “Wanna make you happy.”

“You do, sugar,” he chuckles but it sounds sad. “Always make me happy. You’re my favorite fucking thing in the whole world.”

It’s exactly what you’d needed to hear, making you blush the entire way to the bedroom as both boys help you get settled under the covers. 

Harry instantly pulls you into his chest the moment the two of you have laid down, but before Asher can offer you your privacy…you’re thrusting a hand toward him.

“Stay,” you call quietly, lips pushing into a pout. 

He freezes in the doorway.

“Stay?” you repeat, eyes pleading with him. “Please?”

He looks toward his boss, who frowns a bit before nodding once, allowing him to return to the bed.

Asher is gentle as he takes a seat on your other side. Almost as if scared to cause a rift in the dynamic.

But you simply smile and hum as you nuzzle back into Harry’s embrace.

“There,” Harry smirks, keeping you close. “Better?”

“Better,” you whisper, already drifting off. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“Always,” he whispers back, pressing his mouth to your forehead and keeping it there until you fall asleep.

And it’s better than any dream in the world. 

Next Part:

~ Red* (An Extra)

Previous Part:

~ Remedy*

~ Full Mine Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @acesofspadess @stylesfever @narry-heart @virginvirgo @pagesfalling @creativelyeva @char112244 @snwells @finelinesss

[dadzawa-abc]

[ID: "caregiver appreciation"]

• shout-out to the caregivers who don't use tonetags

• shout-out to the hypersexual caregivers

• shout-out to the caregivers who use periods (".") At the end of their sentences

• shout-out to the caregivers who use all caps to type

• shout-out to the caregivers who seem "too scary" or was labeled "scary" by other regressors

• shout-out to the caregivers who roleplay

• Shout-out to the caregivers who don't roleplay

• shout-out to the strict caregivers

• shout-out to caregivers who also regresses

• shout-out to caregivers who also pet regresses

• shout-out to the caregivers who put themselves first

• shout-out to caregivers who are disabled

• shout-out to the caregivers who use pull-up s/dips

• shout-out to the caregivers who use a pacifier even if they don't regress/not in a little headspace at the moment

• shout-out to the caregivers who listens to adult themed music

• shout-out to the caregivers who's source is considered problematic

• shout-out to the caregivers who's source is from a horror media

• Shout-out to the caregivers who are fictives in general

• shout-out to the caregivers who are songatives

• shout-out to caregivers who want to regress with their little

• shout-out to the caregivers who aren't interested in having a little

• shout-out to the caregivers who don't have a little

• shout-out to caregivers who are irresponsible

• shout-out to the caregivers who are childish

• shout-out to the caregivers who don't seem "cg material"

• Shout-out to the trans men caregivers out there

• shout-out to the trans girls caregivers out there

• shout-out to caregivers who have jobs

• shout-out to caregivers who work as a teacher/works with kids

• shout-out to caregivers who are expecting/have children of their own

• shout-out to caregivers who's children are old enough to make their own decisions

• shout-out to the caregivers who are married

• shout-out to the caregivers who are older than 40+

It might not be brought up a lot, but you are heard. to a caregiver to another, I have your back. You're doing amazing.

[justagirlwholikesadam]

In Another Life

Severus Snape x FEM!Reader

Summary: The golden trio ask their D.A.D.A teacher for information about the new professor called Mrs. Snape.

A/N: I tried to do another blurb with some angst but i just kept typing! By the way, I haven’t read the books so if something doesn’t make sense just ignore it or stop reading. Enjoy! -L

Warning: Married, mention of Self Harm, Remus Lupin Has a Crush, Young Severus Snape, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, Bullied Severus Snape, Angst, Fluff, Romance, Crush at First Sight, Minor James Potter/Lily, Young James Potter, Young Sirius Black

Word Count: 4.6K

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Professor Lupin was deep in thought as he stared at the old wrinkled chocolate wrapper. He held it carefully in his hands, his thumb tracing the gold color front on the wrapper. Leaning back in his chair, he lets out a sigh. It’s been so long since he looked at the wrapper. He had hidden it at the bottom of his suitcase years ago, he never threw it out. He didn’t want to, he didn't want to forget. 

He had gone through his suitcase after the morning announcement. He was recovering from a full moon, he wasn’t in the right headspace, he was tired and wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. He was in his usual place at the teacher table, staring at the empty plate in front of him. He didn’t pay attention when Dumbledore walked to the podium. It wasn’t until he heard your name. He hasn’t heard it in so long but it’s different now. Your last name is different. He looked around when the students and the teachers near him clapped. He freezes for a moment when he looks down at the teacher table and sees you standing up from your chair giving a small bow. 

You sit back down and look to your left at the Potion Master, Severus. His eyes widen when he sees Severus giving you a smile. He looks down at the table and notices your join hands. Severus' thumb was rubbing the inside of your wrist as the headmaster spoke. Looking away, Dumbledore is walking back to his seat and allowing breakfast to be served. 

He almost dropped the wrapper when there was a knock on the door. 

“Come in.” He shouts, placing the wrapper on his desk before rising up from his seat. “Harry. Hermione. Ronald, what do I owe this pleasure?” He greeted them with a smile as he walked in front of his desk and sat on the edge of it as the trio walked inside of the classroom. 

“Professor Lupin-” Hermione starts to speak but quiets down when she looks over at Harry and Ron. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, looking between them. With everything going on, he hoped it wasn’t too serious and hoped he’s able to help them. 

“What do you know about Professor Snape - well Mrs. Snape?” Harry blurts out. Ron shares a look with Harry when they notice their professor stuffing his hands in the front pocket of his cardigan looking a bit weirded out. 

“Is something the matter? It’s her first day.” Remus questioned the trio. 

“We don’t trust her! She’s Professor Snape’s wife!” Ron exclaimed. “I see.” Remus signaled the trio to sit down. 

“Dumbledore wouldn’t have brought Mrs. Snape into Hogwarts if he didn’t trust her. You must trust him as well as her. Y/n is very kind.” Remus cursed himself when he mentioned your first name. 

“Y/n.”  Hermione repeats the name. “I heard that name before.” 

Remus shook his head. “You haven’t.” He snapped at her. The trio flinched at his harsh tone. He had to give them something to forget about your name. They couldn’t know who you were. Things will get messy and people will start to poke their nose around. He fears that the trio will still meddle in and get themselves into trouble. He didn't want that. 

“What I tell you now must never leave this room, do you hear me?” Remus said, looking at the trio. They nodded at him and Remus shook his head. 

“Swear it to me! I will tell you about her and her cousin, Sirius.” Harry looked at his friends who were shocked. "You knew him?" Harry asked.

"We were friends in school and lost touched after." Remus lied. "Do you still want to know about her?" They nodded at him. 

“Swear it! What I tell you now stays with us.” Remus shouted at the top of his lungs. “We swear!” Hermione answered back for all of them. 

“I knew Mrs. Snape, we went to school together and she was…” Remus drifted off as he reminisced the moment he first saw you.  

He was famished, he missed breakfast and he had told his friends that he was heading to the great hall early for lunch. Remus was staring down at the ground as he walked when he heard laughter. Looking ahead he saw a group of girls walking, he stopped in mid step about to turn to the great hall when he saw you. You held a book out in your hands, open and pointing at a passage. He saw your eyes were wide and filled with excitement. Your laughter rang out as you shut the book and the girls around you joined in. They passed by him without a glance. He hasn’t seen you before, he couldn’t believe he had missed such a beautiful jewel like you. 

Remus continued on to stare as you walked into the great hall joining the Slytherin's table. He was so busy admiring your beauty that he didn’t see the green tie or the green lining on your uniform. He frowned when he noticed you waving bye at the girls and joined at the far end of the table. He gulped when he saw you sat across, from no other than Severus. 

Remus knew what would happen next, Severus would just curse you out for bothering him. Severus has always had a cold exterior and he didn’t blame him for it. He’s been bullied by his friends. Remus thought he was dreaming when he saw Severus let out a smile as you showed him the book you were holding. Remus could see how awe you looked when looking at Severus. A smile appeared on your face when Severus looked up at you. He notices your hand taking the book before brushing against Severus’ slender fingers. Severus didn’t pull away; he kept his gaze on you, his smile didn’t fade. 

Remus didn’t see what happened next when he felt a pair of hands grab a hold on his shoulders.

“MOONY!!” 

He flinched as James came behind me. “I’m starving.” Remus looked over his shoulder giving his friend a smile. 

“Sirius is talking to a girl, he said we can start without him.” Remus nodded as he walked with James into the hall. He glanced over at you as he passed by your table, thanking Merlin that James passed Severus without making any snide comment.

He starts to notice you more after that day. In the library, in the great hall and in the hallways. He thinks as every day passes you get more beautiful. He was so excited when the new year came and he had you in one of his classes. Sadly, before he had the chance to ask if he could sit by you. The seat was taken by some Hufflepuff, he decided to sit behind you. 

He rarely got the chance to talk to you mostly because he was always surrounded by his friends and the day that he was alone was the day of the full moon when he transformed into a werewolf. It was later on that he finally asked James about you. He sitting with him in the hall. James was eating up a storm since he had a Quidditch match later on. 

“You see that girl over there with Severus?” Remus tries to be nonchalant about it to not raise any questions. 

James looks over his shoulders and chuckles, shaking his head as he takes another bite from his butter toast. 

“Sinvelly with his little girlfriend, Black.” James said with disgust. 

“They been glued to the fucking hip since she arrived.” Remus remains silent for a moment then looks over at Severus and you eating breakfast. 

“What?! B-black like cousin-” Remus gets cut off when Lily comes walking in sitting beside James giving him a peck on cheek. 

“Sirius’ cousin mate! Sirius told me, her parents are in the same family, you know a way to keep it pure.” James answered Remus.  

“Who are you guys talking about?” Lily asked as she scooped some scrambled eggs on to her plate. 

“Greasy hair Snivellus with his little girlfriend.” James replies to Lily. Remus noticed the face she made and keeps quiet. She didn’t want to know about him anymore not since he called her a mudblood. While Lily quietly looks over her shoulder to see Severus. Remus was looking ahead over James’ head to look at you. 

“He seems happy.” Lily softly said before turning back around. 

“He won’t for long.” James said with a chuckle. 

The next time he heard you speak was when a prank was pulled on Severus. You had found them in a abandoned hallway. 

“Well, if it isn’t my sweet dear cousin.” Sirius said when he heard someone yelling his name. Remus and Peter grew nervous as you walked towards them. You passed them ignoring James and Sirius and kneeling down next to Severus who was trying to get up but the amount of green slime on him was weighing him down. 

“Leave us, Sirius.”  You said standing up to face the four Gryffindor boys. 

“I think not. Tell me how can you kiss slimy pale Snivelly? I think we need to start pranking you next.” James and Sirius both laughed. Sirius elbow Remus to join in but he kept quiet like he always did whenever they pulled pranks on Severus. 

“I want you to prank me, cousin. I want you to do it, so then I can beat you into a bloody pulp.” You look over at James. 

“I’ll break your fucking legs you could forget about playing Quidditch. I’m gonna shove that broom stick so far up your ass is going to come out of your mouth.” James' smile dies as you speak to him. 

Peter flinched under your dark gaze. “Bucktooth Peter. I don’t think you need to be punished. That face you were born with is punishment enough.”

Remus gathered all the courage he had to look up at you. He was met with your eyes and as much as he was scared, he was so intrigued by them. Your eyes that he saw held so much love and softness are now dark and cloudy with anger. You look away from Remus not mentioning him at all. Sirius took out his wand and you copied him. 

Your laughter filled the hallway as you stared at your cousin. “I want you to fucking do it. I’m sure your little friends would like to see how we battle. You know how the battle ends when you go against me.” 

James looks at Sirius who begins to shake with anger. “You’re just like them. A fucking monster.” 

Remus saw the way your eyes soften but quickly covered it up when you hit Sirius with a non vocal spell. It was Expelliarmus, because Sirius’ wand flew out of his hand. The boy's eyes grew after that, it was something that took lots of skills and practice.  

“We both truly know who the monsters are especially those who share our last name.” Sirius looks away from you. Remus tried to place a comforting hand on Sirius’ shoulder but he shrugged it off too embarrassed that he was just unarmed him. Remus knew what you were talking about. Remus and he grew close throughout the years in Hogwarts. You were talking about your family.  

“Enough with this pranking. Got it? You know what I can do. Let him be.” You snapped at them.

You look over at Severus. The green slime is long gone, he’s leaning against the wall holding his own wand with a hard face staring at Sirius. Remus thought his crush on you would disappear when he saw Severus placing a hand on your back but it didn’t. He felt jealous because Severus was touching you. Remus took a step back when Severus suddenly turned his eyes towards him and glared at him with such hatred. Remus let out a small gasp when Severus looked down at you then him. 'There was no way, right?' He thought to himself. Severus couldn’t know what he was thinking about. 

Before anyone could say something, Severus flicked his wand at them without speaking. Remus felt himself being thrown back and darkness overcame him. 

“That asshole.” Remus heard Sirius say as he finally woke up. All four of them had been thrown back to the end of the hallway. Peter moaned and groaned as he held his head, James rubbed his knee that got banged on the floor. Remus grabbed Sirius’ hand, helping him stand up, they looked back at the hallway, you and Severus were long gone. 

Remus stayed silent as the three of his friends started to talk among themselves on how to get back at Severus. He ignored them, the full moon was approaching and he was feeling it. His long limbs were getting stiff. 

“Wait! Are you saying Severus knew what you were thinking? Like he can read minds.” Harry questioned him, pulling him out of his story. 

“Legilimens.” Hermione said, looking at the professor. Remus nodded as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“That's why he hates me because of my father. He bullied and tormented him.” Remus noticed the sadness on Harry's face. 

“What happened between Y/n and Sirius?” Hermione asked Remus. 

“After that day, Severus began to watch me. Whenever we were in the same class or the hallways. I thought I was going crazy. Sirius caught on what he was doing to me and knew Severus was interested in me and where I went every month.” 

Harry frowned. “Every month?” 

Remus looks down at the ground sadly and in shame. “You're a werewolf.” Hermione said softly. “Blimey!” Ron exclaimed, earning a shove from Hermione. “How did you-” 

“Professor Snape taught us about it when you were out the last time.” Harry answered him. 

"We won't tell anyone, we swear." Harry told as the rest nodded at their professor. 

Harry hasn't seen Remus act this way before. Looking so shameful, he began to run his fingers through his hair as he took deep breaths. “It was a horrible prank what Sirius did to Severus. I didn't know. I would kill myself before hurting someone but Severus didn't believe me.” 

That night was a mess, Remus refused to speak with his friends. He felt used, they knew how he felt about being a werewolf. James had saved Severus that night and Dumbledore told him to keep it a secret. Severus was on the other side of the hospital wing being looked out while Remus laid on the opposite side away from him, he had the divider panel up so no one could see him. He hears light footsteps coming inside of the wing. He dreaded if it was for him, he didn't want to see anyone. 

He heard your voice. “What happened, Sev?!” “Fuck, when you didn't come I knew something happened? I was so worried. Are you hurt, my love?” 

He shut his eyes tightly when he heard Severus break into a sob. He felt pathetic when he heard you comforting Severus. Your sweet voice comforting the scared boy. He imagined you saying those words to him. He was jealous once more that Severus had you while he had no one to confront him. 

“Y/n!” His eyes shot open when he heard Sirius. He sees his friends near his bedside, James had tugged down the divider and they looked across the wing. Remus looked over to see you laying down next to Severus. 

“What the hell?” He yelled as you came down from the bed, looking over at Severus who grabbed his wand and pointed at him without a single thought. 

“This was your idea? The prank?” You yelled at your cousin. 

“People could have died. All of you could have died. You want to be six feet under!” You screamed. 

James walked behind Sirius with his wand in his hand, ready to defend him in case Severus decides to attack. Sirius was about to speak when he froze when he saw you were tearing up. 

You look over at Remus who is still laid on the bed, “I thought you were different but you are just like them.” Those were the first words you spoke to Remus and it hit him to his very core. 

“He had no idea about it.” Sirius told you. Your cousin turned to his friend. “I'm really sorry, mate.” Remus looks away from his friend’s sad gaze towards you. 

“Please stop the pranks. The curses on one another.” You said to them and Severus. “I don't think so.” James said, looking between you and Severus.

“What do you want?” James frowned and you repeated your question to him. 

“What will it take for you to stop?” James shakes his head and gives a disbelief chuckle making you angry, Sirius kept looking at you and Severus. 

“Stay here.” Sirius told James before walking towards you. Severus was about to jump out of the bed but you waved him to stop. 

“She looked up at him.” Remus told the trio with a smile. “No fear in her eyes and Sirius asked something that James and Peter couldn't hear but I did. Since I'm a werewolf, my hearing is better than most.” Harry watched their teacher speak He can see it in his eyes that he held so much admiration for Mrs. Snape. 

“What did they say?” Ron asked eagerly. 

“He asked her why him, why Sinvelly? She responded to him right away, he's the only one that doesn't see me as a monster.” Remus answered. 

“The Black are the most noble and ancient house in the wizarding world. Their views are pureblood supremacy. Sirius didn't think like them and so did Y/n. After that Sirius told us why the family thought she was a monster. Unlike him, Y/n is very powerful, too powerful that it alarmed the family because she couldn't control it. Her emotion makes her power lash out. She had mistakenly taken lives because of it.” 

“Why is she so powerful?” Harry asked. “Her blood, right?” Hermione spoke out looking at their teacher. 

“Yes, her mother was one of many unfortunate woman who had to deal with being born in a noble family. Her mother was married off with a family member. She died giving birth to Y/n.” 

“What happened after the prank? What did Sirius tell her?” Harry asked the professor. 

“I don’t think you're a monster, he told her. She just shook her head. You called me a monster a week ago. She answered back then walked away. The pranks did stop, he asked James to stop. Severus ignored us and we did the same. Severus and Y/n whereabouts were unknown after they were done with school. Sirius never mentioned her again but I knew it was hard for him. All he wanted was a family.” Remus finished looking over at Harry. 

Remus didn’t want to say at the end Sirius did get his little family with James, Lily, Peter and him. Harry would know in time who his godfather is. Harry will know in time the truth. 

“Thank you for telling us, Professor. We feel a little bit comfortable now knowing about her.” Hermione said, making him nod. 

“Remember what I said.” He pointed his finger at them and they simultaneously said. “This never leaves the room.” 

“Thank you. Have a good day, children.” Remus said as Ron and Hermione began to walk out. 

“Professor?” Harry called out before walking out the door. 

“Do you still have feelings for her?” Harry asked him. Remus stood up straight and shook his head. 

“Not anymore. It was a simple school crush. That was the only time she spoke to me.” Harry nodded at his response and wished him a good day. Remus let out a sigh after Harry left. 

He looks back at the wrapper in his desk with a longing stare and he feels his chest tightened at the sight of it.

Poppy Pomfrey was making Remus stay a few extra days before he would be allowed to leave. Peter has been visiting him and bringing him his homework and books throughout the day. Remus didn’t want to speak to James and Sirius just yet. It was late and Remus was alone in the hospital wing, he was finishing a chapter of his book when he heard the door open. Remus got his wand from the table and waved it at the divider panel to move to the side thinking probably it’s Pomfrey with another dose of healing potion. 

Moving the divider panel he froze when he saw you. “Hey.” You said as you walked towards the end of his bed. 

“H-Hi.” Remus said before fixing the blanket of the bed and shutting his book. Placing it along with his wand on the table near him. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked. Remus' brows knitted together looking around the room to see if this was joke but you came alone in the middle of the night. 

“I’m okay. The first few days after a full moon are the hardest but I’m okay.” He said and you nodded. 

“I’m glad you’re okay.” You said softly to him, looking down at the book on the table and a smile appeared on your face.

“The Shining. How do you like it? It’s one of my favorites.” Remus was shocked that you knew about a muggle book. 

“You know about Stephen King?” Remus asked you, surprised. You nodded at the brunette in front of you and sat down at the side of the bed as Remus took the book in his hands showing you the cover to make sure you really did know who the author was. 

“Yes! It’s his third book actually. My guilty pleasure is muggles literature but I have to keep it hidden from my family. They disapprove anything that has to do with muggles.” You told him looking up from the cover of the book at him. Remus’ face changed when you told him how you had to hide something you like from your family. He was so close to you and he can see every eyelash, he can see the way your nose stands out and how your lips are pressed together in a small pout. 

“I'm sorry about before. I thought you were on the prank.” Remus saw you looking down at your lap when you apologized. You started to play with the skin around your fingernails. 

“It’s alright. I’m still trying to get over it.” 

“Getting used like that is something difficult to get over, Remus.” His heart breaks, the way you said. The way your eyes darken when you said it made him want to hug you. 

“It seems like you’re speaking from experience.” He said, making you look at him. 

“When one holds an ability, sometimes people take advantage of it, show it off, hide it and sometimes get hurt because of it.” Your magic, Remus thought. 

“He cares for you so I know he didn’t mean to hurt you.” You told him. Remus knew you meant Sirius. He asked you, “How do you know?” 

“Cousin intuition some shit like that.” He gave you a smile, which you returned as well. 

“I wanted to give you something.” Remus saw you getting something from the inside pocket of your robes. He saw a shiny golden bar in your hands. 

“Chocolate?” Remus asked as you passed him the candy. You nodded. He looked at the wrapper with wide eyes. This candy was something he had never seen, it had to be expensive since the wrapper was so nice and looked fancy. 

“You like chocolate right?” Remus looks at you to see you staring at him worry. 

“I do!” Remus nodded and pointed at the bar giving you a thumbs up. “How did you know?” He asked softly, watching as you look away while your cheeks turn pink. 

“We-well, you sit behind me in fourth period. I can hear the chocolate wrappers you open behind me.” Remus snorts out a laugh making you look at him surprised that he snorted loudly. He had laughed because if you only knew how hard he tried to not make a peep in class when unwrapping his chocolate behind you.   

“I'm so sorry.” You shook your head as he covered his face with his hands, hiding his smile away from you. 

“Don't be.” You couldn't help but join him as he continued to laugh at himself.

Remus was still covering his face when you leaned forward and grabbed a hold of his wrist bringing his hand down to his lap. Remus looks down at your hand on him. Your touch was warm, not what he was expecting. He was expecting a cold and stiff touch. Your fingertips touched the inside of his wrist, he knew you could feel the light scars on his skin. You turned his arm over to see his wrist. Remus was about to pull away when you showed him your own wrist with your own scars. 

“Remus.” The professor looks up from his desk and notices the door is open. Standing up straight he notices you walking inside. You stood across from him a few feet away with a small smile. 

“Apologize, Professor Lupin. I was knocking for a while.” You said pointing over your shoulder at the door. 

Remus can't help but look at you, you have grown into a very beautiful woman. He can see you didn't share the same taste in clothes as your husband. You wore muggle clothes, a knee length dark green dress with a black cardigan, and you wore a pair of black court heel shoes. 

“I should be apologizing. I didn't hear you, I haven't been myself these past couple of days.” Remus said, running his fingers through his hair before letting a sigh. He notices you crossed your arms over your chest and tilted your head looking at him. 

“I know, Severus told me it was a full moon not long ago. He asked me to give you a little pick me up potion. He just finished brewing it.” You said walking towards him. Remus looks as your hips sway while walking towards him handing him the vial. 

“That was very nice of him.” Remus said with a face making you laugh. “I know my husband can be…difficult.” Remus barks a laugh. “Just difficult?” 

“He is many things but he has a kind heart.” Remus nods but doesn't believe it, it’s hard for him. 

“He does. He was the one who told me to bring this to you.” You said before scrunching your face trying to get the same scowl as your dear husband. 

“Lupin needs to get better so those kids will stop pestering me about him.” You imitated Severus' smooth and cool voice. Remus lets out a laugh, loudly making you smile. He covered his mouth to hid his smile as he looked over at you. 

“You're always covering your face.” You said, grabbing a hold of his wrist. You held on his wrist as he showed you his wide smile. He feels his heart fluttering in his chest as he looks down at you. 

Remus pulls away from your grasp and clears his throat. He shouldn't be this close to you, you're married and you're happy with your marriage. He doesn't want to ruin that. Remus regrets never taking that chance that night you visited him years ago. The chance to be friends, maybe something more but damn the way you looked at Severus was something he only read in books and he doubts that you would ever look at him the way you looked at Severus. Severus was the same thing, his dark eyes always following you. He always had a hand on you, and even when you weren't looking he admire you.  

‘Perhaps in another life he would have taken that chance.’ He told himself. 

[erodasfishtacos]

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 300+ 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