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areyouhavingfunyet · 10 months ago

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What Started in Beautiful Rooms

(dark!vanessa) x (fem!reader)

(DARK!FIC)

(f4f)

(one-shot)

(smut fic)

description: [ post FNAF movie ] vanessa is not very kind or patient navigating through the aftermath of being stabbed in a story she's refused to disclose to you since she woke up in the hospital delirious and defensive that day. through the mist of her abrasiveness you couldn't find the kind and witty woman you'd known before, in her place stood someone else and she was a far cry from who vanessa originally was. unperturbed and unnamed, she was crude and endlessly wanting - wearing the face of your beloved partner, you couldn't acknowledge let alone deny her. them. you couldn't deny them if you tried.

important info below cut. tap 2 read.

WARNINGS/TAGS: dark!fic, SMUT, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, RAPE due to the non consensual elements of their coupling, dub!con due to the circumstance of r's relationship with vanessa and their remaining romantic feelings for her, rough sex, bottom!reader, clitoral stimulation (r receiving), clit rubbing (r receiving), vaginal penetration (r receiving), strap on (vanessa providing, r receiving), breathplay through headlock choke/half gag, hair pulling/grabbing, car sex, face against window(r receiving), public sex, emotional abuse (precautionary tag), EMOTIONALLY ABUSIVE + TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, TW sex with a cop (jokes. not jokes), she's still in uniform, mentions of unlawful abuse of power, dirty cop (???pun???), degradation, explicit swearing, name calling + pet names (containing: whore, baby, honey, pretty girl, bunny), forced orgasm (r receiving), somewhat simultaneous orgasm, female pronouns + gendered terms used + genitalia mentioned: girl, pretty girl, cunt, pussy, clit, NO aftercare, no happy ending

notes: yeah lotta unresolved trauma with no therapy. unless you count R being the toy vanessa takes her anger out on a form of emotional release. someone get these two a couples counselor. hot car sex i've drooled about since seeing her all authoritative in her uniform. timeline is a good few months post stabbing, vanessa hasn't much recovered, so that acted as a catalyst for vanny to take over her personality or "wake up". though, vanny's not fully manifested to fruition - so there's a lot of pent up anger and frustration as a product of that, i.e vanessa being emotionally cut off, having dark thoughts, more impulsive. enjoy if you can. if you can't handle tags i don't recommend at all. disclaimer; this is a super unhealthy dynamic it's not normal or safe i don't believe this is morally right or healthy in real life circumstances. this is just fiction.

uhh not proofread rip 🪦. idk how many words rip ⚰️.

minors and blank blogs do not interact. you will be blocked. 18+.

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it's hard to breathe.

there's been more than many moments knowing Vanessa where it was harder to breathe. countless. yet in every moment of breathlessness there's always juxtaposition. here she is, an officer. a woman of the law, authority. of morality.

her contrast and her very antithesis is; people hate that. you'd have to go along accept that whether you wanted to or not. there are people who hate the law and the morality that comes with it and by junction, they will always hate her.

with that, comes; fear, and it has lived in you since you met her. incrementally building the closer you got with her, and it was for her well-being. it was for her, in the beginning at least. she's an officer, there's risks that flew over your head in the hundreds and circled you like a murder of some gargantuan breed of eldritch corvid that shakes the ground you walk on clean open with a single screech. and the damn beasts have often succeeded.

what if she was hurt? what if she's in the wrong place at the wrong time with her guard down? what if her gun doesn't fire? those thoughts were always trailing, and rapidly spiraling, into such innocent seeming core anxieties that only truly equates in their naïveté with the fact of; they were untouchable in reality with their line of questioning, ridiculous and almost endearingly so. like a child, afraid of the monster under their bed.

the innocence of being so completely ignorant to the ones you pass every single day, the ones wearing your face, speaking your words. you'd be mindful to recall again that most of the monsters you've seen aren't the ones under your bed, but the ones she's told you about. the ones she cuffs, tackles, and in conversations that make you flinch — the ones reaching up from the darkness beneath a bed frame, between discarded dolls and forgotten building blocks you'd left scattered in your mind, that yowl hauntingly and grab at your ankles; the monsters she fires upon.

those stories at the dinner table she'd tell you about a year ago while picking distractedly at stir fry in a takeout box like they meant nothing, made it harder to breathe. it was hard to pick at your food then the way it was to pick out whether she was sharing it because she trusted you with the information, or if she just didn't trust herself to sit comfortably with it. it was like nothing to her, like the weather. that should've bothered you.

it didn't bother you, and now you can't let it bother you even though it does every single day. it was fear for her, and stupidly enough, you'd allow yourself to cross the threshold where it'd shifted into complete fear of her.

"You think they'd want to help you?" grunted hot and harsh against the already pink helix of your right ear, which had blood pounding so loudly through it in a scattered and fast rhythm. her voice was low, effort grinding through each syllable spoken low in her throat. the timbre of her voice was hushed and intense and the bass of it made your ears just ache to bleed. "You think they'd walk over and be your fuckin hero?"

her right hand was tangled in your hair, the other arm locked around your neck, pushing you with full force against the window of her off duty vehicle. it was a roughed up thing, the leather seats so old and grainy it peeled and stuck under your fingernails that clawed so viciously into it, and it was honestly, wholly, unfortunately a perfect metaphor for the woman she's come to be. blue paint chipped, lights dull and worn out, engine hoarse and rickety — vastly different from the insured and shiny police cruiser she drove on her shift.

it was hard to accept who she's been since she woke up in that hospital those months ago.

not one word of what happened was shared with you. not one word of it, not spilled to you in honest and carefree chats over takeout dinner when she came home late at night, and you never got to comfort her over it with another glass of ice water and a spot in her lap and a kiss over her ears. it was never going to be fixed that way ever again. a hushed and intimate i love you spoken in reverence was not the bandaid to the visceral scar over her abdomen, and her psyche.

an even harder pill to swallow was whether this was in her the whole time, stabbed open and stitched up and brought back to life. staring right back at you the day she was discharged, she was alive. all of her.

Vanessa grunted, breathing so harshly between the intervals of her speech that it reached the tinted glass window your face was smushed against and fogged it up in kind with yours. it was hard to breathe, in a tight headlock, the best you could offer was silent compliance, a fearful and involuntarily pleasured mewl into the air.

your airway was slightly strained from the pressure of what you'd not exactly consider a warm embrace. it was definitely warm, hot in fact. burning. painful.

her body was hunched over your back, enveloping you completely, the blue button up shirt of her police uniform still on securely albeit wrinkled from her maneuvering. her badge dug coldly into the skin of your upper back. there'd surely be an unfortunate imprint on your skin from the pressure of it afterwards.

slacks and underwear down just to her mid thigh, belt open and clinking noisily which provided more, unfortunately telling, audible thematics to the scene you find yourself in. she fucked the cock strapped to her hips harshly into you, hardly leaving room between your bodies for proper leeway but managing with vicious brute strength to consistently thrust inside. she'd have you no matter the circumstance.

"Think I'd play that favorite game of ours, you remember that honey?- fuck-" readjusting her knees opposite yours, right foot digging opposite into the floor of the car for leverage, she groaned at the angle of her hips behind yours, pumping up into you.

with her movements came more strain on your front, smushed between her face pressing against your ear, side of your neck, and the brutal pressure of the window, her arm never ceasing the hold it had around your throat. her fingers clenched in your hair, an unfair coupling to her advantage even if she had you completely under her strength with just one arm, a greedy hold.

"'member what you liked? When I'd pin you down n play bad cop? Huh?"

her voice was patronizing, and sparing of the same false nicety was the way she fucked into you like she was attempting to nail your head through the glass.

"I'd flash my fuckin badge," by all means, it was uncomfortable, and the side of your face against the window could easily go numb had this continued for much longer, it was agonizing for you through strained breathing, the sharp angle you were at below her leaving no room to move as it'd do more harm than good. "and they'd fuck off the moment I'd tell 'em to, and you'd be sitting quiet n pretty...all fucked out and drunk looking- nngh -like a little whore on a bad bender in the back of my unmarked cruiser...ah..."

with a shaky hand slightly cramped from gripping the poor quality leather seats, you gripped desperately onto her bicep locked around your throat that pinned you under her, squeezing it.

"V-Vanessa!-" "Shut up- god, you better shut the fuck up!"

it would be difficult in any universe to think she meant for it to be calmer than intended. the blonde exasperated her energy and patience fucking you so viscerally, half clothed hips and flexing thighs smacking roughly against the backs of yours, the warmth of body heat between you so intense. Vanessa's dilated eyes swam up to the glass to catch on the group of people across the parking lot you so desperately begged with your eyes to turn around and notice you to help so naively, managing to reel in her tone to keep quiet.

"No fuckin' words- shit! - Fucking take me... " she moans languidly against your ear, overwhelming all your senses and you couldn't fight it if you wanted to. "Just stay quiet and feel me...Mm.."

her grip was like a vice, and your thighs helplessly quivered as they fought to hold you up under her, digging into the leather seats below you, aching from flexing and clenching every time the head of the fake cock rams against your cervix so viscerally. you breathed heavy and greedy for air through the humid warmth in the car, seething and moaning through your teeth as you couldn't much relax your jaw with her arm locked over your throat.

it was mean and brutal but the scent of her perfume burned at your thoughts and instinctively you responded to her, feeling the pleasure build, the love you still felt for her. you found yourself imagining through such a hateful fucking that it was the early first year of your relationship when you'd have innocent fun reminiscent of your early college years, wild and depraved with partners just as hungry, when you'd surround yourself in her so passionately.

your eyes watered, a sob bubbling up, mixed with the heady pleasure of her cock stimulating your inner walls in slick, steady, thrusts, hearing the creak of the car moving as she rammed into you from behind.

Vanessa cooed softly, letting the hand in your hair finally release and catch below you, slipping between your legs to blindly cup over your mound, briefly brushing your sensitive and puffy labia to find your clit so swollen, throbbing under her touch as she rubbed firm circles into it, tandem with her thrusts. the move made you moan loudly, involuntary and abrupt as it broke free from your chest. gripping her arm desperately, your fingers clawed against the blue fabric of her shirt.

"Baby...pretty girl..." a low purring hum at your ear, hand working wetly between your legs. "...There it is, just take my cock, okay bunny? You take it so good when you're quiet- hah-" cooing, mouthing what sounds like comfort over your ear, in a way a lion licks over the kill it's crushed below, snapping its neck and paying only thanks to the prey for dying still and compliant below.

she sinks her length into you flush and in brief grinding pumps that nudge the head of the silicone cock against your cervix does she relish in the broken keening noise bubbling from your restricted frame, moaning along with it in barley contained delight. the blonde's hungry eyes shut, brows furrowing in focus as she pulls out and continues to ram in at an angle nudging the base so firmly against her, breathing ragged from exertion and the simultaneous friction of fucking you, fingers so swiftly circling your clit.

"So good...This pussy's gonna make me cum so fucking hard, honey-" she grunts, panting and huffing softly, kissing and sucking at the spot below your ear briefly.

"You gonna cum for me too? Huh bunny?- fuck -" her words break off in a stifled giggle into your hair, almost giddy. it was visceral and genuine, and terrifying, arm tightening around your neck with the headlock she has you in.

"You better fucking cum for me, you hear me?"

Vanessa's tone is serious, splitting off cold so suddenly, hips never halting, hungry eyes opening again as she delivers punishing strokes of her cock into you bringing out a stifled moan from deep in your chest. you struggle to nod your head frantically in her grip, your shoulders and neck cramped and tense yet your lower half aches with the boiling tension of needing to cum, her cock stretching you open and her firm fingers pressing down on your clit in agonizing circles, you couldn't wane off the pressure if you tried. your eyes are already shutting tightly as your quivering frame tenses under hers even more, the sounds that are able to leave you echo freely through her car, muffled against the window.

teary eyes shut tight, your flushed face screwed up half pressed against the window, with her breath at your ear and her fingers rubbing firmly over your clit while she fucks you — you couldn't hold it in if you tried, trying desperately to find it in her actions the passionate and kind woman who spared your sensitivity for a more comfortable position in a gentle coupling, and instead feeling foolish even in the incoherent blinding white bliss of such a forceful and intense orgasm she erupted from your body in that moment. crying out, you moan languidly, or as best you could in her grip, legs almost giving out under you as they shook and clenched.

your cunt squeezed harshly and rhythmically around the silicone cock pounding you through it which only served to heighten and prolong the bright pleasure. her fingers never cease throughout, circling your clit firm and insistent as she near fucks the life out of you, the slick noises of her pumping into your ruined, soaked, pussy were obscene.

"There you go!...God, fuck, that's it!-.." Vanessa moans against your ear, full chested and raw and broken, hoarse as she pumps her hips closely against you. she grinds through the rhythmic clenching around the dildo strapped to her bucking hips that makes it a bit difficult to thrust through - yet she finds a way to force it in anyhow. frantically and deeply, she chases her high, fingers leaving your clit. "T-There's my girl- there's my girl....shit, I'm gonna fucking cum!"

desperately does her hold tighten, face nuzzling closely against the side of yours, angling to nip and kiss at your ear, she grunts against you, her own noises picking up in the remnant haze of your orgasm. each thrust of the cock inside of you grows almost to an ache against your sensitive walls, and all you can do is moan and mewl weakly, hand gripping the bicep locking your head against the window for support. the moment she orgasms is the moment she finally pulls her arm away, releasing your head and allowing her hands to shoot down to simply wrap tightly around your waist and torso, one hand roughly squeezing your breast as she pulls you back from the window in a moment of reprieve, forcing you down onto her cock roughly as she grinds up against your ass tucked into her lap. she moans against the back of your neck almost in reverence, open mouthed kisses and nips against the skin there as you sit back in her lap disheveled and sweaty. her hips twitch every now and then, her moans dying down whilst she rides it all out, hands gripping you possessively, a long sigh leaving her mouth as she rests back against the opposite door with you flush on her cock.

"Fuck me..." a panted breath, half minded and quietly spoken to herself as she holds you closely for a moment, relaxing against the seats. Vanessa pulled out then, carelessly if not completely sudden, hushing your brief wince.

She lifted you from her lap and laid you in a limp pile on the leather seats. her thick length popped out of you wetly, slick and coated in your arousal, the blonde muttering 'shit' to herself at the sight - eyeing your gaping cunt for a few more seconds appreciatively with dark eyes, licking her lips and swallowing dryly.

she had the gall to appear more tired than you were, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, then briefly leaning forwards with her hands on the seat to glance out of the windows with alert eyes. she wiped at the fogged window with the cuff of her uniform shirt, satisfied to see the group of folks that had their backs turned across the parking lot were walking into the street, veering down the sidewalk through the nighttime glazed dimly over town.

your breathing had grown more calm below her, feeling the reprieve of the lack of brutal stimulation, red and aching cheek that was consistently pushed against the fogged window not fairing much better on the cheap leather seats, but with the lack of movement and a comfier position - you couldn't complain.

"Get up.." a smaller notion, almost meek if you focused hard enough, slipped from her mouth as she pulled way. you could hear her belt buckle jingling as she zipped her slacks up, folding the article securely in place.

"Fix yourself, we're going home.."

her hand meets the small of your back in barely the ghost of a touch, almost afraid to come into contact with your skin as you lie there dejected and exhausted from the rough encounter, and it's all she allowed for the moment.

vanessa pulled her hand away, fishing around the front passengers seat and tossing your clothing behind, climbing into the front and starting the engine that complained in a loud sputtering cough, eventually springing to life in an eventual burst of much needed air conditioning.

you turned your head to look at her from where you lie on your stomach weakly, resting your head tiredly on the old car seating. your thighs quivered every now and then, a deep ache sat between your legs that, sure, you didn't mind now. though, as you both sobered up from the encounter, your teary eyes gazed over her shoulder to where she wouldn't meet you in the rearview mirror, feeling the waver of the car pulling out from the lot. you knew even collecting carelessly thrown articles of your clothing that regardless of what you felt in the silence of her presence...it'd happen again.

you'd pretend and picture her gentle eyes the whole time, amidst fear and amidst love - that nothing was broken. cut open, stuffed, and stitched together again with the mangled heart of someone you knew. at least you could pretend breathing was easy then.

at least you could pretend.

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#vanessa shelly #smut

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