#backstage pass

[luxeavenger]

Shark

Kinktober prompt: Overstimulation

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Pairing: Backstage pass!Natasha x reader

Warnings: Overstimulation, vaginal fingering, oral sex, top Natasha

Words: 1055

If you like it, please give it a reblog! I've been away for awhile, and I think a lot of people forgot about me.

Kinktober Masterlist | Backstage Pass Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-fi

The redhead’s muscular shoulders block the light when she hovers over you. Her wide, lipstick-smeared grin is intimidating the way a shark's grin is intimidating.

And apprehension curls through your gut, just as it would if it were a shark grinning back at you right now.

You whimper as her fingers ease out of your pussy, just to be pushed into your mouth. You tongue the taste of you off her digits. They’re pruny, because they’ve been inside of your dripping cunt for the better part of the evening.

“Be a good girl, and clean ‘em for me, sugar,” she commands in her rough, sultry voice.

Each time she praises you, chills scatter over your too-hot flesh. It makes you eager to please her, and you know you’d do anything she asked of you just to receive more of it.

Natasha’s naked skin is so pale it nearly glows everywhere it peeks from behind the tattoos cluttering her naked body. She’s singularly the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, and you felt unbelievably lucky when she picked you up after your bartending shift ended.

Now? You’re pretty sure if it were possible to die from being overwhelmed by orgasms, this is the woman they’d send to do the job.

Her chin is shiny with your juices when she looks down at you. Hoping for a break, time for your body to relax for a bit, you ask, “May I please eat your pussy now, ma’am?” Her fingers are still in your mouth, so the words come out garbled.

She pulls them out and you repeat your question.

She grins again, and you’re foolish enough to think she’s going to let you do what you asked.

Instead, she takes the fingers still slick with your spit and pushes them back inside of you. The squelch when she pushes into your cunt is obscene, and you blush, heat rushing over your body like slow-spreading flames.

With a low chuckle she says, “Oh, sugar. I’m not nearly done with you yet.” Her fingers rub against your g-spot, and you mewl. “When you’ve come so much—once you’re so sensitive you can’t even stand the touch of fresh fucking air on your needy little clit—that’s when I’ll let you eat my pussy.”

Then, just to tease you, she curls her middle and ring finger into her cunt—the cunt you’re dying for a taste of—with a moan, and you whine pitifully.

She leans over to whisper in your ear, “Seeing you squirm and cry for me has got me so fucking wet, sugar. I can’t wait to sit on this pretty little face.” She wraps the hand she was just using to toy with herself around your jaw to gently shake your head back and forth. Her fingers are sticky with her slick, and it leaves a streak of her arousal across your cheek.

“Ma’am, please. I can’t anymore. It hurts.” You know you’re whining, but you have no idea how to stop. She’s made you come more times than you can count. And, well, you know she’s not going to stop, so you might as well beg anyway.

“Now, now, sugar,” Natasha purrs, “we both know you fucking can, and I promise you that you absolutely fucking will come again, if I have to use my fucking fist to yank an orgasm out of you.”

“Ma’am–” you try to make another appeal to her. You try to come up with something coherent. Some words to tell her you’re too sore, too tired, too something, but instead, “–oh, fuck.”

Making you feel like you don’t even know your own body anymore, your traitorous pussy gushes slick over Natasha’s fingers, and your muscles strain as your back bows. The gorgeous woman purrs silky praise at you, that sends butterflies swarming through your stomach.

“Look at you sugar,” she beams at you, her angel bites glitter in the light when she licks her lips like a cat. “So beautiful when you come for me. I knew you could do it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you sigh deliriously, drunk off her attention.

She slowly descends your body, nibbling her way down, her perfect mouth leaving a trail of bruises in her wake. Her green eyes stay trained on your face when she slurps at your clit. Your hips rise off of the mattress, and she throws a deceptively strong arm over you to keep you in place. Your body already feels like one raw nerve ending, and she keeps plucking at that tight, strained feeling inside of you like it’s a guitar string she intends to play until it breaks.

Her persistent fingers on your g-spot pull a messy, squirting orgasm out of you, soaking Natasha’s chin and hand again. She laps at you like she’s starving, and you’re her only source of sustenance.

Your thighs are visibly trembling, and Nat smooths a hand down your flank. She coos, “Such a good girl for me. So fucking good. You came so fucking hard for me. It was fucking beautiful.”

Her tattooed fingertips make swirling patterns over your sides until your thighs are done shaking. She runs a knuckle up your slit, smiling lazily when your hips jerk reflexively at the lightest graze of your clit.

“Mmm, baby girl,” she hums, “look at you. So sensitive. I think you’re there. I think you’re right fucking there, sugar.”

She blows gently at your mound to cool your heated skin, then spreads you open with her thumbs. Then a quick puff of air hits your clit, and a bolt of electricity zings up your body. Your entire body jerks, and you mewl pitifully, “Please, no more, ma’am. No more. I can’t. I can’t. I really, really can’t. Don’t make me.”

She abandons the space between your thighs, and straddles your body. Silver tear tracks on your cheeks are wiped away by her thumbs, and you hiccup a sob at the gentle gesture.

Her voice is rough, and syrupy sweet when she soothes, “Shh. That part’s all done for now, sweet girl. You were so good for me.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” you sigh dreamily.

The too-sharp grin is back now. “You’re not nearly done, sugar. So don’t thank me yet,” she wryly remarks, grabbing a handful of your hair as she lowers herself over your face.

Everyone who reblogs gets my undying, and eternal love. No, really. xoxo

[fionaapplerocks]

Fiona Apple photos by Stephane Sednaoui, 1997

[ascene]

x

[ladies-of-fiction]

International Women's Day: Strength In Different Forms

[stardustasincocaine]

Did someone say “draw self indulgent family bonding that would make repressed 16 year old Tessa super happy”?

Found family is out, forced proximity family who collectively dropped the braincell is in.

Did we buy the Hokusai Lego set? Yes.

Did I immediately consider that Deeply Traumatized Mom Dad (with art historian parents) would fucking love it? Yes.

Did I make it peaceful and heartwarming? What are you, a lawyer?

[brachyzoid]

Love going to the Pizzaplex. Especially after buying Glamrock Chica's special Multi-press Backstage Pass Bonus Pack.

[smash-or-pass-otome]

John Brandon

[nostalgiahime]

From the book Britney Spears Backstage Pass (1999) [✩]

[bangtanintotheroom]

For the WIP game, how about "slowly?" 👀💕

Yes Ms. Sunny 👀💖

“Come on baby, sit here.”

Licking your lips at what laid waiting for you, you slowly walked over, swaying your hips on purpose. You crawled onto the bed and over Hoseok, tilting your head.

“What’s wrong, Hobi? Are you feeling lazy tonight?”

- Backstage Pass

Send me a word and I’ll send a line from my WIPs! 👀✏️

[de3d2me]

give me coffee, Utah love

[stardustasincocaine]

Hello Minors, it’s that time where I say “begone, scoot, go away” because we are suggestive enough today to warrant you begone-ing.

Rad, anyway, as I was grumbling about Thyne Olde Fandome Problems, AO3 said “bitch, you thought” so it’s Art Time™️ with the first chaos bisexuals of my life:

Fic that inspired it is Innuendo by Edenbound (and I love it regardless of if you are familiar with these nerds)

I’m still figuring out how to adapt them to my style, but we’re getting there

[leatherpearlslace]

[smash-or-pass-otome]

Matthew Partridge

[nostalgiahime]

From the book Britney Spears Backstage Pass (1999) [✩]