#nick sagar fanfiction

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Forgive Me, I Am A Sinner  {1}* {Two-Shot}

Title: Forgive Me I Am a Sinner {1}* {Two Shot} 

Someone x Reader

Words: 2.9k

Warning: Play on the church confessional, Cursing, Adult themes, Mild crude language/discussion, Mild NSFW(Toward end), Mistaken Identity

Summary: You have some things to get off your chest and end up walking into a church.

Note: So, this might be mildly taboo for some, if it is for you, don’t read, I’ll understand. While I don’t think I took it too far in someone’s eyes it could be blasphemous. Again, don’t read if you feel it may offend you. Nothing lewd but be warned. Don’t come to me with your complaints. They will fall on deaf ears and be met with a quick delete. I don’t think it’s bad but 🤷🏽‍♀️

  ***NOT EDITED/Proofread***

-You-

“Forgive me lord for I have sinned. It's been...never since my last confession. I've never done this. Yep, I'm a virgin. Well with confessions otherwise I am soooo not a virgin. The things this body has done, these eyes have seen, these hands have touched, and this mouth has had in it...yikes. Not a virgin. Oh god, I probably shouldn't have said that in a church with a priest across from me. Shit. I probably shouldn't have cursed in the house of God either. Oh, fuck."

You facepalmed then sighed already fed up with yourself. You didn’t know what was wrong with you or why your mouth was still moving and allowing words to pass through. Yes, you were nervous and most of it were nervous ramblings you’d always done but now was not the time to be censor free.

 "I'm going to hell, aren't I?”

 Silence. There weren’t even breathing sounds. Either there was no one there or the guy across from her was weighing his options speaking to an actual heathen. You leaned a litter closer to the wooden screen peppered with small holes that was separating the two booths.

 "Uh...priest guy? Padre? Father? Oh, great even God's messenger sees the heathen in me and has run for the hills to tell the lord this sheep has steered far from the flock. Definitely going to hell."

 You hung your head in disappointment.

 "For all the scripture that has been written about the heavenly trio, the father, the son, and the holy spirit, I doubt they would be so quick as to damn one of their flock."

 You could hear the humor in his voice, and it made you pause. Were priests supposed to have a sense of humor? It did sound like a biblical joke so maybe that wasn’t weird.

 "I think you are being too harsh on yourself," the voice on the other side followed up.

 "You do?"

 "Yes. Also, heathen in quite harsh."

 You giggled nervously. However, those nerves were dwindling with every joke he cracked. There was something soothing about his husky voice that sounded like he was half asleep and just awakened from a quick nap.  "That is what I feel like whenever I muster up the courage to speak to him about this."

 "Start from the beginning."

 "Are you sure it's okay for me to be telling you all this in a church nonetheless?"

 Silence. Was he actually thinking if it was okay? You circled your thumbs and waited for him to speak but when he didn’t you leaned closer again.

 "Hello?"

 “You came here because you needed help. You came here looking for answers and acceptance. You will find all 3 here. So, let's begin again. Trust me I've heard it all."

 You sighed relieved by his welcoming words. You then nodded and mustered even more courage. "Okay. Forgive me lord for I have sinned I've never confessed before.

 "What is your sin?"

 "Lust."

 The silence stretched for so long then the person on the other side of the screen cleared their throat.

 "Lust. Go on. How are you lustful?"

 His voice was even deeper than before.

 "I like sex--like I really, really like sex. I know the bible leans more on sex for procreation and marital health, but I am not married, and I have no plans for children. So, for me, sex is something that feels good, better than good, amazing especially if it is done right and the person I am with understands a woman's body and needs."

 The silence returned but only for a few moments. "Ehm, I'm listening."

 "Lately I've been feeling unfulfilled."

 "Sexually?"

 "Yes, mainly. I have a great career, amazing friends, wonderful family, and a life I love but when it comes to sex it's just not cutting it. The guy I've been seeing..."

 "Boyfriend?"

 He sounded disappointed and that made you pause. Why would he sound disappointed? You explained it away deciding that he was disappointed in it not being a husband or fiancé.

 "You mentioned you were not married just trying to get a better understanding," he clarified.

 "Oh. Not really. We see each other whenever we have an--itch."

 "For sex. Understood."

 "You sound very chill about this father."

 "I am simply here to listen and never to judge--my child. This is the house of the lord, and all are welcome to be who they are and lay down their burdens. That is the lord I represent."

 He sounded like the cool youth pastor that was written about in some YA novels. The one who would create raps for G.O.D. You stifled a laugh at the thought.

 "Wow, that's really cool. Anyway, he's very...vanilla. Whenever we meet--. Wait should I explain what vanilla is? Um...well."

 "No need," he quickly interrupted.

 "Really?"

 "Uh...I am what I am now, but I was not born a priest."

 His unexpected answer had you snort loudly before a laugh escaped you. "Well go on then fuck it up, father. Damn no, I didn't mean that."

 He heartily chuckled. "It's alright. Go on"

 "He's vanilla and never really knows what I need and rarely ever do I cum. I mean reach completion."

 "Then why are you wasting your time with someone like that?"

 "Uh...well...ummm...I am very picky with who I spend my time with. When I said that I like sex, it didn't mean I was some chick who sleeps around with anybody with the right body part."

 "Of course not. I didn't mean to imply that. I'm sorry."

 "No, it's cool."

 "For the record, I didn't think that of you anyway."

 "Okay. Thanks. It's just most guys are insensitive assholes who think if a woman likes sex and pleasure then they must be easy and DTF anyone."

 "Guys like that are the ones who should be offed and sent straight to hell."

 "Preach it, father.”

 It took some time for his words to make full impact, but after a few moments, they did. “Wait shouldn't you say they are also God's children and just need to be steered to the righteous path?"

 "You sound well versed in the priesthood."

 "Movies."

 He laughed again and it sounded so welcoming that you laughed with him.

 "Please continue. He doesn't satisfy you."

 "No. I thought I could handle it and finish myself off or something but tonight I couldn't."

 "Did you just have sex tonight?"

 "Yes. I guess that's another sin you have to forgive me for."

 "And you are unfulfilled."

 "Yes. So unfulfilled. My bullet couldn't even take care of this, not even my rabbit, hell not even the usual porn I watch."

 The silence across the way was deafening and you noticed. It was like you’d become hypersensitive to quietness since sitting in this booth. Suddenly he groaned as if in pain.

 "Are you okay father?"

 He groaned again then took a few breaths. Through the tiny holes in the screen, you could only make out a head turned down, everything else was shadows. "Completely.”

 It came out hoarse, strangled. “Ehm...continue.”

 "Uh, so I facetimed him and decided to tell him what I need and even some things I would be into, and he laughed and had the most freaked out look on his face. He said it wasn't normal and I shouldn't tell anyone about it again. Like he made me feel crazy and so--dirty."

 "Uh-huh. For better context. What are these preferences--my child?"

 You twiddled your thumbs then uncrossed your ankles only to cross them again. "I don't know if I should say them now. You might say the same thing."

 "No. I would never. Remember I said my place is not to judge and I am here to help?"

 You took a deep breath and tried to calm those nerves that were beginning to creep up again. After another breath you began.

 "I um...I told him I want to be tied up while he takes all control and completely ruins me. I told him I wanted to try doing it while others watched that him being so gentle is a turn-off and I wouldn't mind some teeth or nail marks on me. I can see myself being into BDSM and get turned on by dominance and submission. I want to be choked a little while he slams so hard into me that I see stars. I want to be weak in the knees unable to walk, sore throat can't talk, eyes full of tears, chin covered in slobber, delirious with pleasure until I squirt and then pass out to do it again. I want him to know my body and what it needs better than I do. I want dirty, nasty, rough, hot passionate sex I'll never forget."

 The silence this time was so heavy so filled with the charge of excitement and arousal. You didn't know why you were slightly turned on finally getting it all out, especially to a priest in a church of all places. Hell, you didn't even know why you had come in here in the first place. The idea of confessional had always creeped you out for some reason. Telling a stranger your secret sin. It felt so vulnerable.

 "Shit. Surely I should burst into flames for all that right? First in line on the locomotive to hell? I shouldn't have said all that."

 "Are you ashamed of these desires? Do you wish to be rid of them?"

 "He made me feel ashamed."

 "Fuck him. Are you ashamed?"

 "Father?"

 "Answer me.”

 His voice was serious, and authoritative now. “Look inside yourself and answer truthfully."

 You did as he said and took some time and truly listened to yourself and everything that was going off inside you right now. Among everything, the uncertainty, the excitement, and the confusion nowhere inside of her did you feel ashamed. Not at all.

 "No. I'm not ashamed."

 "Do you wish to be rid of them?"

 "No," you replied with a little more confidence.

 "Good. You should be unapologetically you. You should not allow others to make you feel small or shameful for who you are, what you want, or what you deserve. You deserve all of that. You deserve to be sexually fulfilled and happy in all avenues of your life. We all only have one to live and restricting ourselves from true happiness is not doing service to someone, it does a disservice to ourselves."

 You sat there thinking over his words and gained confidence from each of them. He sounded as if he spoke from experience.

 "Is this your first day as a priest? I don't think you should tell parishioners to sin more to live a fulfilled life if you truly want to gain access to heaven."

 He snorted. "It is my first day doing this, but I stand by my words."

 You sat there noting your nerves had melted away and your confused state had turned to one of mellowness. You didn’t feel in a war with yourself anymore. Perhaps this was why others did this.

 "Do you feel better?"

 "Yes."

 "Good, then my work is done."

 "Wait shouldn't you give me instructions to repent like a Hail Mary or ten or something?"

 "Will it ensure you do not sin again?"

 Snorting, you replied, "Probably not."

 "Then you are free to step out of here and live your life with one piece of advice."

 "What's that?"

 "Drop that pathetic loser you're seeing. You can do so much better little lamb."

 The doors on the other side opened but you didn't register it until nearly a minute had passed. When you stepped out and looked in the opposite booth from sheer curiosity, it was empty with no priest inside.

 "Little lamb? What kind of priest was that?"

  ~~~~~~~

 -Him-

4 hours later and he was still solid as a brick hard.

 "Fuck!”

 He palmed himself yet again then squeezed hoping to relieve some of the ache there but no luck and no relief. He shoved his hand under his head and stared up through the glass roof of his skylight at the night sky. It was clear without a cloud in sight allowing the stars to really shine.

 "I want to be choked a little while he slams so hard into me that I see stars."

 His cock throbbed so forcefully it could be seen through his now too tight pajama bottoms. Glancing down, he groaned exasperatedly.

 "Come on. It’s not funny anymore."

 He knew he shouldn’t have gone into that confessional. He knew he should have found somewhere else to wait for his manager as he spoke with the priest of the church he was donating a large amount of money to because of his connection to some of the kids he'd encountered the weekend before.

 He'd gone at that time because he was sure it would be empty and there would be no stray photos of him leaked. Donating money was no fun when everyone knew you'd done it. He liked the incognito life. He just wanted somewhere that had zero chance of him bumping into someone. No way did he expect someone to drop into the other side of the confessional and no way did he expect that someone to have that kind of confession.

 He closed his eyes as he recalled the little slivers of her face. Plum painted lips that looked full, a cute nose, skin that looked incredibly soft, and eyes that called to him. From the small perforations in the wood, he would classify you as a fucking goddess.

 Once you began your confession he should have interrupted and set the record straight but there was something about your voice that held him in place, silencing him. He’d picked up the distress in it, the frustration and uncertainty. Then the more he listened he fell under some spell. When she mentioned her definite non virgin status, he was way past curious. Maybe that’s what possessed him to answer her when she asked if he was there.

 "Curiosity," he muttered mulling over it.

 He thought over your entire confession and within seconds his cock throbbed again. Without even realizing it his hand had drifted into his pajama bottoms and was now wrapped around his engorged length.

 "Fuck!"

 "I want to be tied up while he takes all control and completely ruins me. I wanted to try doing it while others watched, that him being so gentle is a turn-off and I wouldn't mind some teeth or nail marks on me. I can see myself being into BDSM and get turned on by dominance and submission. I want to be choked a little while he slams so hard into me that I see stars. I want to be weak in the knees unable to walk, sore throat can't talk, eyes full of tears, chin covered in slobber, delirious with pleasure until I squirt and then pass out to do it again. I want him to know my body and what it needs better than I do. I want dirty, nasty, rough, hot passionate sex I'll never forget."

 "Uggh. Uggh. Uggh. Fuuuuuck."

 His hand moved so fast he was sure it was going faster than the speed of light. It had to have been. His groans, moans and grunts filled the space as he raced toward a finish he imagined would go across her beautiful face or her breasts he couldn’t see but was convinced were equally as gorgeous as her aura. Within seconds, his back angled off the bed as if whatever had possessed him earlier was finally exiting his body and being pulled into the air.

 "Holy fuck!”

 The white spots that decorated his vision made it impossible to see anything and in that moment he didn’t care. He was only focused on the amazing feelings coursing through him. When he finally regained some motion and sense he glanced down and found stream after stream of his release decorating his chest, pelvis, and pajama bottoms.

 "Ah shit. Come on! Haven't had to jerk myself off since I was twenty fucking years old, and one confessional tipped me over the edge? Unfuckinbelievable!”

 Not in a rush to get up and filled with frustration, he looked back to his skylight at the glittering stars and thought of the side profile of her face. Within seconds, he felt himself harden again and it was then he knew his cock was not done. He was in for a long night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

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[shaekingshitup]

Trying to read more smut so I can be better at writing smut. If this reaches your dash, tag your fav smut writer to give them their flowers 💐 & lmk which story I should check out :]

[chaneajoyyy]

Any nick sagar stories?

There are! This is the only story I know about so far

NICK SAGAR FANFICTION

-work for it- @royallyprincesslilly

***BUT LET ME KNOW OF NICK STORIES ON ALL PLATFORMS!!***

[royallyprincesslilly]

Choose Your Story

You guys know I like to give you all. choices when I write some kf my stories. I think it feels more interactive when you guys have some say as opposed to me just giving you what I want lol. So in another round of choose your destiny, read more below.

Pick one. Pick the one that looks like they could play off each other both on a toxic level and a united level but also pick the one you vibe with cause hello y'all are Y/N 🙃.

⬇️

⬇️

⬇️

Lewis Hamilton x Reader x Aaron Pierre

Lewis Hamilton x Reader x Lucien Laviscount

Lewis Hamilton x Reader x Nick Sagar

Lewis Hamilton x Reader x Ricky Whittle

Lewis Hamilton x Reader x Nathan Owens

I am very invested in maybe 2 of these and just partially invested to another one but I could be swayed for any of them. 😏

[royallyprincesslilly]

Guys. Guys! GUYS!

We need more Nick Sagar in our fanfiction lives.

I repeat!

WE NEED MORE NICK SAGAR IN OUR FANFICTION LIVES!

And I will deliver!

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Poison & Sin {1}

Nick Sagar AU x OFC Dove Albright

Warning: Tease, Mild Cursing, Plot

Words: 4.4k

Summary: Nick "Nightshade" Sagar is rich, he's sexy, he dangerous and he gets whatever he wants when he wants it. No exceptions. He says jump, and everyone asks how high, and for how long. There is a reason he got his nickname. He owns Vegas. 

Men are afraid of him and know better than to get on his bad side. Women would kill for one night with him. Four actually have. He loves that power. Everyone but Dove Albright, a background cabaret performer at Vegas's hottest Cabaret & Burlesque club, Poison & Sin. 

She is hell-bent on keeping him as far away as possible, especially since she is already in a relationship and wants to stay away from fire because she knows it burns. Dove's motto is don't rock the boat and keep your head up. However, the star of the establishment, CoCo is the polar opposite. Her motto is all eyes on me, and I can take your man if I want to. She wants two things, Nick, and to keep her coveted spot as number one at the club no matter what. 

Nick has something to say about both matters. His motto, I see It, I like it, I want it, I will have it and he wants Dove though neither of them can quite understand why, especially when she proves to be different from all the rest. She will be his and nothing will stand in his way. However, nothing is as it seems and there is plenty more than what meets the eye when it comes to Nick “Nightshade” Sagar. It is Vegas after all.

Note: We all need more Nick Sagar in our lives. Behold, an AU all for him. Also, I didn’t tag anyone because I am not sure who is feeling Nick Sagar. If you are feeling this, send me a message/ask if you want to be tagged for fics about him. 

As Always, thank you for reading! I appreciate the support. 

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!  ❤️❤️

***Not Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

 ~~~~~~~~~

Tonight, would be different, you said to yourself as you glanced over your reflection once more. You took a deep breath and slowly blew it out, allowing yourself to get used to the weight of the crown atop your head. The thought that flashed through your mind was a cheesy one.

 Heavy is the head that wore the crown.

 In your case, it was an exquisitely made headdress that looked like it could belong to an Egyptian goddess. You’d seen the headdress tons of times in the closet where all the show costumes were held, and you’d trailed your finger along its gold spray-painted exterior several times imagining what it would be like to wear it in front of an audience as you performed the routine that CoCo did two nights a week. The routine that had every man in the audience salivating. You’d seen firsthand the compliments and attention she got after the set was complete. They were compliments reserved for her, not any of the background performers.

 You were one of the background performers and had been for the last year you’d been working at Poison & Sin, Vegas’s hottest and sexiest cabaret and Burlesque club. You’d been hired to compliment CoCo, the star of Poison & Sin—you all were. She’d held the starring spot for the last three years and no one had been able to dethrone her though many had tried. You’d never tried. You tried to do the opposite, stay unseen, show up perform, and leave every night with the couple hundred in tips to hold you over until your payday at the end of the week.

 Unlike the other background performers at Poison & Sin, you didn’t want the starring slot. You didn’t want to climb the ranks and claw, or hair pull your way to the top. You were happy enough to do something you loved to do every night—perform. You had your reasons for wanting to stay in the background. Still, you did imagine what it felt like to be the one drawing the eyes and everything that went along with it.

 CoCo got hundreds in tips just like the rest of you, but she also got showered by Vegas’s top tier. Ballers, CEOs, company Presidents, celebs, even NASCAR drivers who rolled through for the South Point 400 all showered her with attention, gifts, and extravagant nights plenty would dream of. Over the three years, she’d let it all go to her head. By the time you got to the club, she’d turned into a diva and fully believed her shit didn’t stink and all the background performers were beneath her.

 “5 minutes, Dove.”

 You nodded and took a few more deep breaths.

 Tonight, would be different, very different. Rather than being in the background, tonight would be your night center stage—starring. You did your best to drive away the nerves that tried to take over. They were trying to make you doubt yourself. You knew the routines and could do them in the dark, you knew all the songs and could easily make the pitch and your rapport with the other background dancers was strong, so you knew they had your back. There was no reason to be nervous, you knew that, but still, the nerves persisted.

 “You got this. Knock em’ dead,” you said to your reflection before you walked out of your dressing room—well CoCo’s dressing room. It was yours for the night.

 As you walked to the stage entrance, you said a silent prayer to the performing gods wishing for good luck and no slips or stumbles.

 “You’re gonna kill it tonight.”

 Glancing to your left, you saw Atianna one of the other background performers. Her smile was wide and sparkling with genuineness.

 “You think so?”

 “Of course. Come on Dove, you know every song, every step to every dance and you have that it factor. I’m surprised it took Thomas this long to put you center stage,” she clarified.

 A small smile spread across your face, and you tried to let her praise wash over you.

 “I also never knew why you didn’t fight the wicked bitch of the southwest for center stage. Yeah, she’s good, but you bring so much more to the stage.”

 Atianna and CoCo didn’t get along and it was all because of one sabotage move CoCo pulled on Atianna a few years back. Since then, there was bad blood and a hatchet that neither of them wanted to bury, unless it was in the other’s back.

 “Ready to bring the roof down ladies?”

 You and Atianna clapped once you heard Sati’s voice on your right.

 “Here we go.”

 You heard the club DJ beginning to hype up and welcome the audience and you and the others took your place on the stage waiting for your signals. While Sati and Atianna took their spots, the curtain dropped separating you from them. They would be opening first before you made your entrance. You sat backward on the chair, waited, and tried to get the butterflies under control.

 The DJ Carlos finished his welcome, and the music began. As soon as it did, most of the butterflies dissipated. You knew you had this. You smiled as you went over the moves in your head that Sati and Atianna were currently performing. The song was about being a woman showing and entertaining she was a god and anyone else was an imposter. The song screamed powerful and sensual, and the performance was supposed to exude just that.

 After about thirty seconds, you steeled your spine and braced yourself for the curtain to rise. The audience erupted into applause and cheers, and you knew the girls had hit their impossible poses that showcased their acrobatics and flexibility.

 “Showtime, Y/N.”

 Slowly, the audience quieted down and gave you, their attention. You straightened your spine sitting up then rolled your shoulders to the beat. In seconds, you bent backward touching your palms to the wooden floor of the stage creating an arch with your body. You brought your legs over your body flipping into a front split showing off your flexibility. A few catcalls echoed around from the audience encouraging you onward. Digging deep to overcome the last bit of nerves, you began the song. You followed the steps of the floor routine that you knew even in your sleep, putting all the emphasis on each and every move you could muster.

 By the time you were to your feet and dancing along with the other performers, the audience was engaged and focused on everything happening on the stage. You felt in the zone as you normally did with every show. The only difference this time was, you felt even more powerful. By the end of the song, you felt like you owned the stage. Seeing the audience give you a standing ovation your chest filled with pride. It felt like everything you’d ever dreamed of.

 The curtain dropped and you and the girls ran off the stage to change for the next set as the filler performers flooded the stage. Their job was to keep the audience entertained for the minute you and the other girls were allowed for changing. In the beginning, a minute to change seemed impossible but by now it was a piece of cake.

 “Keep it up, Y/N,” Archer, one of the bouncers said as you passed him on your way to the dressing room.

 “Thanks, Archer.”

 Not bothering to pull the curtain of your changing room, you unhooked your bra top, then yanked your next costume off the clothing rack and hurriedly dressed in half measures. By the forty-second mark, you were dressed and buckling your heels getting ready to run back to the side of the stage. Once there, the stage mother double-checked your outfit and appearance making touch-ups where necessary all to ensure you were one hundred for the performance. For this performance, you would be first out for half the song. You rushed to the stage and got onto the lowered glittery swing and hit your pose. Mike the sound guy lowered a microphone to you, then gave you a thumbs up to say you were all set.

 At the sound of the intro to the song, you took one final breath and prepared for the curtain to rise. When it did, you were welcomed by the applause of the audience. After almost a minute, their applause hadn’t died down and you couldn’t lie you felt like a damn queen because of it. You waited for them to quiet down to begin. When they did, Carlos started the track. You allowed the soft melody to fill you then you began singing. On the third line, the swing began gently rocking back and forth. You knew it was Leon, the props director taking charge of the mechanisms.

 You looked across the audience not focusing on anyone or anything. You trained your eyes to the bar at Deron the bartender and stretched your note. Deron smiled then winked your way as he held up a thumb. Keeping on track, you looked across the audience again. Your eyes passed a tall, dark, and bearded man and they kept moving but almost instantly they returned to him. Without thought, your mouth continued to move, belting out the ballad that was both hauntingly romantic and sad, however, your eyes were stuck on him.

No matter how you tried to look away and focus on the rest of the song to complete the show, you couldn’t. The way he looked at you made your skin prickle with goosebumps, your heartbeat quicken, and your throat tighten as if he held a grip on it. The most ridiculous idea popped into your head as the struggle to go back to normal continued. Was this man even human? He was gorgeous enough to be some sort of fantastical being. His dark eyes had to have some power, some sort of magic in them to keep you this transfixed. Never in your life had you struggled like this.

 He raised his glass to his lips, and you watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed. Then, your eyes instantly went to his lips that were moist from whatever was in the glass. Lips that looked prime for kissing, biting, and much more. He looked like a cognac man or even a rum one but only the expensive kind. Slowly, his tongue slicked out to roll across his bottom lip adding to the moisture that was already there. The tightness in your throat intensified making you almost stumble over the words you sang.

 “Get a fucking grip, Y/N,” you reprimanded in your mind exercising your control and stubbornness.

 With much effort, your eyed darted to the side but quickly returned to the alluring stranger in the audience. His head cocked to the side just a little bit and you watched the muscle in his jaw jump.  Again, your eyes darted to the side but strayed for a few seconds before again returning to him. He looked confused now with his wrinkled brow and half-smirked mouth. It wasn’t an amused smirk either, it screamed dangerous and lethal. Your stomach flipped and that was when you managed to look away just as you stretched out the last word and held it in a soulful high note, finishing the song. The audience’s applause and cheering were the rewards you received, and it was enough, but you felt like you needed to go anywhere that wasn’t in front of that beautiful stranger.

 The rest of the nearly two-hour show only intensified every single feeling you’d ever had. The way Thomas had set up Poison & Sin was as the show progressed its steaminess increased, which meant more and more skin was shown and the acts sexier and sexier. It drove the audience wild and made Poison & Sin really stand out. Every night the place was packed and made a killing. Tonight was no different.

 By the halfway mark of the show, the costumes you wore had less and less fabric and the dance moves became more and more suggestive. When you’d started at Poison & Sin, you’d told Thomas you didn’t want to do topless like CoCo. You were fine prancing around in the tiniest of thongs but when it came to baring your breasts you didn’t want to. It was a worry that Thomas would rip your application in half because of it but he agreed. You were going to be in pasties but after the first rehearsal with CoCo when you tried them out, she disappeared with Thomas in his office and the next rehearsal you were told you’d keep your bejeweled bra top on, no pasties necessary. You didn’t care why the change happened it was a win for you.

 With every song, the dark and beautiful stranger never tore his eyes from you. Though it made your skin prickle, it warmed your gut. Usually, it didn’t matter the effect you had on anyone in the audience, it was always best to keep it separate but tonight you liked that he didn’t look away. Somehow it made you feel powerful. It was an addictive feeling. That addictive feeling made you bold with how you glanced at him. Looking away became more and more difficult but the thrill increased with every glimpse and the electricity between you thinned the air in the club but only you seemed to feel its effects.

 Once you’d psyched yourself up enough in your dressing room for the topless finale, Thomas appeared with a message.

 “Eighty-Six the topless closer. You keep your top on and improvise. The girls know what to do.”

 That was it before he walked off disappearing once again. You stood there for a moment, lost. What the hell were you supposed to improvise with? Those who’d seen the show before knew what was coming. Anything else would be a letdown. As you sang the first half of the final song, you wracked your brain trying to come up with an equal or close to equal move. The last thing you needed was a review that said CoCo’s performance was better. You’d never see center stage again and CoCo would use it as ammo for every conversation henceforward. She already had a huge ego you didn’t need to add to it.

 As you got closer to the end of the song, you formulated a half-assed plan and prayed Marta the costume designer wouldn’t rip your head off backstage. Coming to the end of This is A Man’s World, you got ready for your ending. You yanked your bra, snapping the Velcro straps, tossed it into the audience without thought. You then bent forward hugging your leg quickly before anyone caught sight of your breasts. Looking back through your legs, you locked eyes with the stranger again. He was slowly sitting up at full attention, but something was different—out of place.

 Ripping out the jeweled feather fans that were attached to your knee-high heeled boots, you dropped down into a front split showing off your flexibility, then laid back slipping the fans onto your chest covering your nudeness precariously but perfectly. The arch to your back gave plenty of cleavage views and you were sure it looked sexy enough. No one in the audience seemed to realize it was an improvised ending. They were too busy clapping, cheering, and losing their minds. Most of it registered but then your eyes met the stranger again and you realized what was different. He had your discarded bra top dangling from his finger. The look on his face was an unspoken challenge, the clench of his jaw made him look domineering while his stance said one thing. Power.

 When you got backstage, everyone congratulated you on a great show. You were met with hugs, pats on the back, and plenty of thumbs-ups. The pride bubble in your chest was so inflated that you felt as if you were floating. Once you were in your dressing room, you stared at yourself in the mirror for a few moments before you exclaimed a soundless scream. You couldn’t get away with a full scream. You danced around relishing in the feeling of your first successful center stage performance.

 “Y/N.”

 Thomas’s voice outside startled, you cutting your celebration short.

 “Em, yeah?”

 “Great show!”

 You smiled again then pulled the curtain coming face to face with the red-headed owner of Poison & Sin.

 “Thanks. I know you said to keep the bra on, but you also said to improvise,” you rushed out hoping to smooth out your disobedience.

 “Forget it, you did good. I have an opportunity for you.”

 Your interest piqued. “Opportunity?”

 “Yeah. Normally CoCo is the one getting these proposals, but you were requested,” Thomas explained.

 “By who?”

 “A VIP.”

 That was all he said like that was all you needed to know.

 “What does he want?”

 “A private show of your talents,” Thomas replied.

 Your interest remained but your alarm was also up. That sounded very pervy.

 “You don’t have to accept but just know there is an extra 1k in it for you on top of your tips for the night.”

 Your eyes bugged and you had to fight to keep your shock at bay. Clearing your throat, you leaned against the doorway and thought about it. Every night CoCo got almost two and a half in just tips, and you’d seen her do a handful of private shows. It was possible she ended every night with at least six grand. With six grand you could finally finish rebuilding Rome’s custom GTO that was totaled in his last speed race. The car was his baby and you wanted to get it done as a surprise.

 “I’ll do it.”

 Thomas smiled then nodded. “All right then. Change, he likes black then get to VIP room one.”

 You nodded and went back inside your dressing room to rummage through the rack of costumes. You ignored your nerves and kept your eye on the prize, the pimped-out GTO. It won’t be weird, you assured yourself. Plus, this wasn’t a sex club he wasn’t expecting ass and pussy, maybe a sexy striptease. You could handle that.

Five minutes later you were standing in front of the VIP room dressed in one of the sexy black costumes from the rack and a belly full of butterflies. You took a few calming breaths and tried to call on your inner goddess who knew she was the shit to take over. After a minute you knocked twice on the door.

 “Come.”

 The voice was muffled probably thanks to the material of the door. Atianna told you your first week there that all the private and VIP rooms were made with material that was as close to soundproof as possible to ensure the privacy of the guests for whatever they wanted to do. On a silent prayer, you stepped into the room stopping in your tracks you hesitated, realizing it was pitch black inside.

 “Uh--.”

 “Come in and close it.”

 His voice said it was a command, not a request. He expected to be obeyed. Instantly, your danger senses turned on but that only piqued your curiosity more. Which one was higher? You didn’t know.

 “I will not say it again.”

 It was then you realized you still stood in the doorway, so you cautiously walked inside closing the door behind you and sealing your fate. Unsure where to go, you took a few steps forward hoping you didn’t collide with anything. A full minute passed with you standing there with your hands in front of you, toying with your nails. He didn’t speak not one word and you wondered how he planned to see you in the darkness of the room. Then you wondered if he really was a creep and planned to harass you in the darkness so you couldn’t ID him.

 “Relax. I don’t harass my women.”

 It was said matter of factly, with no emotion. His women? Your brain mulled that over for a few seconds before he spoke again.

 “What’s your name?”

 “Dove.”

 You waited for him to deny it as many others had. You’d gotten so many “no it’s not”, “you’re lying” to last you a lifetime. Though you waited for the words, they didn’t come which made you cock your head to the side and crook your brow. A deep chuckle came from across the room before it filled the entire space making it sound like it came from everywhere all at once.

 “Why do you look so confused?”

 “Well I’m so used to--,” you paused registering his words. Look? It was pitch black in here. There was no way he could see you. Right?

 Another chuckle echoed, this one sounded closer before it bounced back across the room. What the fuck, you thought.

 “Tell me.”

 “Uh—well--no one ever believes it’s my real name. They think it’s a stage name.”

 Silence stretched and you wondered what the heck was happening. This was getting weird.

 “I like it. I think it suits you.”

 Suddenly, the neon glow in the dark lights switched on lighting up the room like it was a Putt-Putt golf place. The sudden change had you blinking a few times as your eyes adjusted. Across the room, a figure sat cloaked in darkness. The light in the room looked as if it wanted to shine on him but it stopped right at his lap only giving you a view of his fancy black loafers that housed a lone gold chain across it. Gucci, you thought. His matching black slacks hung loosely at his legs but then hugged his thighs perfectly showing off how toned and primed they were for sitting.

 “You can if you want.”

 Your eyes snapped up to where his face should have been if it weren’t hidden.

 “Can what?”

 His hips lifted slightly as he readjusted his seated position, slipping a little lower. You held your breath in anticipation that the light would illuminate his face but just as his beard-covered chin came into view the light rescinded and he was again concealed from you. You took a breath and released harshly released it. It came out sounding of impatience rather than frustration.

 “Am I boring you? You are welcome to come over here and entertain yourself.”

 A weird electric heat zapped down your spine heating your body to the temperature of your morning cup of coffee. A quick thought of obeying occurred but it was gone after a few seconds.

 “You are an interesting creature, Dove. Tell me, are you seeing anyone?”

 Tell them what they want to hear, you thought. This was people-pleasing 101.

 “No.”

 A slight feral growl sounded making you stand straighter.

 “What was that Dove?”

 The urge to tell the truth overtook you, “Uh—yes, I have a boyfriend.”

 The groan of bending metal echoed in the room distracting you from him as you looked around trying to figure out what it was. Movement from his side brought your eyes back to him to catch him crossing his leg over the other resting his ankle on his knee.

 “Is he here tonight?”

 Again, the truth came out, “No.”

 “Why?

 “The sight of other men riled up looking at me makes him uncomfortable,” you blurted out.

 A disgusted scoff came from him. “Ah, a little boy who doesn’t know how to handle the beauty or true sensuality of a woman. A little boy who hasn’t grown into a man who takes pride in you unleashing your power—your goddess.” He laughed but it didn’t sound like he was amused, it was a sinister laugh, one that had a hidden meaning.

 You should have been alarmed but you weren’t and for the life of you, you couldn’t understand why.

 “Let me guess, you’re a faithful girlfriend to him.”

 It wasn’t a question.

 “Does he deserve it, Dove?”

 You paused hearing the question from him that you’d asked yourself a few times in the last few months. Your head felt muddled, hazy like it was filled with smoke, and it was making it impossible to think, impossible to hold to who you were and what you believed. The only thing you could focus on was the haunting voice that spoke to you telling you to give in. You closed your eyes for a few moments and tried to push through it, but when you looked across to him you felt as if the room was spinning, and you were floating through the neon colors in the air. Even floating through the air, you felt off-balance, but your logical mind knew you were standing firm.

 “Does he?”

 The voice was more sinister this time, almost sounding inhuman. The faint scent of cognac filled your nose making you feel like someone was in front of you, but you saw no one.

 “Does he deserve you?”

 This time the voice came from behind you, and you felt the heat of breath curl around you awakening something inside you that made you grip your head. As quickly as these feelings arose, they disappeared. You looked around the room. It was fully lit this time and you were the only one standing there.

 “What the hell?”

 You knew you were with someone just now, but the only evidence was an envelope sitting on the empty metal chair across the room. As you approached it, you took notice of the warped arm of the chair that looked like it had been melted or bent out of shape.

 “What?”

 Again, you glanced around. You were alone, the door was closed, and no other exit existed to this room. Pushing away the confusion, you reached for the envelope and saw at least ten one-hundred-dollar bills inside.

 “Oh my god.”

 You quickly counted it and gaped at the total, twenty-two hundred dollars. You dropped into the chair and scoffed. Twenty-Two hundred dollars for a conversation? He must be insane. A black card in the envelope caught your attention. When you pulled it out the smooth feel of it screamed expensive. It felt similar to silk or satin. Could it have been? On the other side of the card, there was a gold embossed flower that changed color to a deep plum shade when you angled it differently. You had no idea what it was and there was nothing else on the card.

 “What a weirdo.”

 Shrugging off the weirdest night of your life, you gathered the envelope and money then walked out ready to pack up and go home. Exhaustion was washing over you quicker than ever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wanna be tagged? No problem. Lemme know, send an ask. 

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Work For It {One-Shot}***

Nick Sagar x Reader

Warning: Cursing, Strip Tease, NSFW, Mature 18+ Content, SMUT, Slight/Mild Anal Play

Words: 3.8k

Summary: It’s all fun and games until Nick gets angry and takes it out on you, but not before you give him a show.

Note: My New Year’s gift to you all.  😘 

Recommended listening once indicated is “WAP.” The second recommended listening is “Wicked Games” by Ramin Djawadi.

 HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!!!!! 🎊🎊

Thank you all for reading. I appreciate it and you!!

If you enjoyed this, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG  ❤️❤️

 ***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

 ~~~~~~~~

 You laughed as you walked inside the home you shared with Nick with him hot on your heels. You were feeling really good. It could have been because of all you’d had to drink that night, or maybe it was the insane amount of flirting you’d done.

 “You think this is funny. It’s not!”

The anger in Nick’s voice only made you laugh louder. Your laughter echoed through the halls of your home on your way to the kitchen.

 “It actually is quite funny,” you replied, opening the wine fridge.

 “What!? So you think it’s funny to do what you did?”

 You were too busy trying to decide between a rosé , a white, or a red wine to cap off the night that you didn’t answer. You turned and placed the three bottles on the island and looked at Nick.

 “What do you think? Pink, Red or White?”

 Nick had the cutest exasperated look on his face that was laced with anger. He was so pissed, and it turned you on immensely.

 “Really? Do you think I give a fuck about wine right now?! Y/N, you got me fucked up!”

 “Rose it is,” you said, grabbing the bottle, but before you walked away, you reached back for the white wine. “Maybe another just in case,” you added, walking around the island and out of the kitchen. You knew he was so damn close to raging.

 “Calm down. It’s not even a big deal,” you slid in, walking up the stairs to your bedroom.

 “Not a—you’re fucking kidding me. You flirted with that wanker right in front of me! Then you had the nerve to let him touch you.”

 “Nick, he touched my back. Why is it such a big deal? You know I’m yours. you knew I was leaving with one man and one man alone.”

 You’d managed to put the bottles down on the bedside table in the bedroom before Nick was up against your back, pressing you into the floor to ceiling window. In seconds he’d spun you around so you could see the fury in his eyes.

 “You,” you finished in your seductive voice.

 Nick held you firmly at the waist with one hand while the other cupped your jaw holding your head in place. Using one of your hands, you brought it up his back, slowly going over each dip and rise that he’d worked so hard for in the gym and his Ji-Jitsu training. When your hand reached the nape of his neck, you sunk it into his loose curls, the curls you loved to entangle your fingers in every chance you got.

 “I’ve told you time and time again,” Nick began bringing the hand that was at your waist up your back to your neck. He then roughly pulled, making your head angle back enough to give him your undivided attention.

 “Mmm.”

 “You belong to me. I own every glance, every whisper, every smile, every kiss.” As he spoke every word, his voice dropped several octaves on each of them while he invaded the space between you.

 “I am the only man who can touch you.”

 You felt him cup your sex, and you had no idea when he’d moved his hand from your jaw. A small, breathy gasp escaped your throat. It was like he was proving to you why.

 “I.” Nick circled your silk-covered clit with one of his fingers. “Own.” He traced a zig-zag along your swollen bud. “This.” A firm pinch followed, making you shriek out, throwing your head back even more.

 “Fuck,” you whispered.

“Oh, princess. If that’s what you want. You’re going to have to work for it,” Nick teased before he bit your bottom lip, pulling back with it clutched between his teeth. The sting of pain was dull, but it was present.

 Nick walked from you around to his side of the bed. You noticed then he held one of the bottles of wine in his hand. You watched him open the bottom drawer to pull out a video camera, specifically one you’d gotten him for Christmas because of his interest in photography and filming. With the camera in hand with the bottle, he walked to the baroque style chair in the corner of the room behind the door and dragged it to the center of the room. Before Nick sat, he kicked off his loafers, sending them half under the bench that resided at the foot of your king-sized bed.

 Once he was seated with his long legs spread wide enough for you to fit, he easily opened the bottle and pulled the cork free with his teeth. The soft ‘thunk’ sound echoed in the quiet room. He then brought the bottle to his lips and guzzled from it, allowing some to dribble down his bearded chin to his partly exposed neck. Fuck, you thought, getting lost in the glisten of the wine on his toffee skin. His eyes landed on you, and the familiar butterflies fluttered in your gut. The man was downright sinfully gorgeous. A smirk flashed across his lips, and you knew he knew it. That was the deadliest combination.

 “Gonna stand there all night?”

 Scoffing, you grabbed the other bottle and did as he’d done with the one he was raising to his lips again. Spitting out the cork, it landed on the bed before you walked closer to him. after taking a swig of the rosé, you sucked your bottom lip.

 “What else should I be doing?”

 “I think you owe me an apology, princess,” Nick said.

 You couldn’t help but smile.

 “Did I hurt baby’s feelings?”

 The smile he wore instantly slipped, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. The look on his face was a serious one, and his eyes said he was a sliver from his asshole side.

 “I wouldn’t tease me right now, Y/N.”

 You took another gulp from the bottle and approached him as if he were a predator. He might as well have been, especially seeing the mood he was in. you knew flirting in front of him was a dangerous thing to do. You’d long known about his jealous tendencies and knew how he felt about you and other men. Nevertheless, you persisted. It was purposely done.

 Usually, Nick was a sweetheart. Whenever anyone ever saw him, they thought he was the sweetest, most gentle man. Their assumptions were absolutely correct, but his sweetness and gentleness had limits, and you knew how he would get if he saw you flirting with someone else. Nick leaned back in the chair, giving you space to swing a leg over to sit on him.

 “I’m sorry, baby,” you softly said, dragging out the last word.

 Nick scoffed, and you brought your lips to his, but he dipped his head back, evading your kiss.

 “I’m sorry,” he said.

 Quirking your brows, you looked at him quizzically.

 “I’m sorry you thought it would be that easy, and apologize meant words.”

 The butterflies took flight again, but this time they descended, making your clit throb. Nick took a sip from the bottle the whole while never taking his eyes off of you. Music played in the room, and just like that, you formulated your plan. Raising from his lap, you walked away to the darkened window. As you stood in front of it, you guzzled the wine, not measuring how much you swallowed.

 When you lowered the bottle, you turned to find not only Nick’s eyes on you but the lens of the camera. Staring into the lens, you finished the bottle then tossed it to the side. The ‘clunk’ it made upon impact with the carpeted wooden floor didn’t faze him one bit.

  🎶 The music that played sounded like the perfect choice for a striptease. You wondered if he planned this. That was when you decided to change the way this was going. You walked over to the sound system and changed the song. From the very beginning, you knew that he knew what the song was. This was working out so well, you thought.

 “I said, certified freak, seven days a week, wet-ass pussy, make that pull-out game weak.”

 You slid your hands along your body until you gently cupped your sex. Nick’s eyes went right where you wanted them. As you mouthed the next few lines, you made sure to lock eyes with him. Slowly, Nick skimmed his tongue along his lips, wetting them in the most erotic way. Closing your eyes, you pretended you were dancing for yourself, not holding anything back.

 When you got closer to him, you stepped between his legs then twirled for him until your ass poked in his face. That was when you dipped down low enough for your ass to rub against his crotch. You heard him groan against your ear, but before he could bring his hand to touch you, you stood, then walked behind him. You grabbed his hair and yanked his head back, so he looked in your eyes. You kissed his temple, then brought your lips to his ear.

 “I want you to park that big Mack truck, right in this little garage.”

 Nick scoffed, then groaned as he watched you come in front of him to drop your ass to his lap. You began grinding on him, giving him a preview of all that was for him and your expert level lapdance skills. When you began twerking on his lap, you felt his hand on your waist. He moved it to your stomach, pulling you back against him.

 “You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

 Glancing back at him with your lip clenched between your teeth, you leaned back a little more to lick his cheek before winking at him. You slid off his lap to kneel in front of him. Dropping your chest to the floor, you kept your ass perched in the air giving him one of the best views. You didn’t care that the hem of your dress was above your ass, showing off your thonged ass that you were sure was soaked. Peeking back at him, you knew he’d peeped it. His groan was a lot louder than before. You turned, remaining on your knees right on time to the lyrics.

 “I don’t wanna spit; I wanna gulp, I wanna gag, I wanna choke, I want you to touch that lil’ dangly thing, that swing in the back of my throat.”

 For emphasis, you caressed your face against his hardened delight that was barely hiding behind his pants. Nick then grabbed your hair, pulling your head back, so you looked at him. You couldn’t help but smile.

 “Pleased with yourself, huh.”

 He brought his bottle to your mouth, and on cue, you opened for him to pour some of the wine inside. Knowing your mouth was full, he didn’t stop. He poured so it spilled down your body life a cascading waterfall. When he released you, you wiped your mouth then sucked your finger into your mouth before slowly crawling away. You stopped for a few moments, then peeled off the dress you wore before throwing it back at him.

 Nick made it such an easy thing to catch the fabric mid-air before tossing it over his shoulder. He then leaned forward again, leaning his elbows on his thighs. Left in only your thong and bra, you used the floor to bounce on it a few times before you turned to him and roamed your hands over your body. The pleased look on his face only increased.

 You stood and then began doing the famous dance for the song showcasing your flexibility while playing up every exposed body part for his viewing pleasure. As you humped and pounded the floor, you glanced at him again. His expression was darkened and masked. You crawled back to him, knowing the end of the song was coming. Once between his legs, you roamed your hands up along his legs and thighs before coming to the buckle of his pants.

 Without words, you undid his pants then helped him pull them off. Nick gulped wine as he watched you and where your hands went. When you pulled off his boxer-briefs, his lengths flicked out then bobbed in the air. Locking eyes with him, you licked your lips.

 “Am I forgiven, baby?”

 Instead of answering, he just watched you. You scoffed and decided to kick things up a notch. You grabbed the bottle and took a mouthful of wine before you lowered your mouth onto his dick. Nick grunted, no doubt from the shock of the cold wine against his searing skin. Hearing him gulp, you knew he wouldn’t be holding out much longer. You slurped the liquid that was in your mouth, knowing the vibration from it would feel divine. Nick dropped his head back and released a long groan.

 You slowly pleased him, making sure to tease the shit out of him. He may have wanted you to apologize, and you’d give it to him because it was slightly fucked up what you did, but there was no way this would be easy for him.

 “Fuck!”

 It was strangled, and in seconds, his hand was on top of your head, holding you from going any further. Your throat was his weakness. You opened it up and lodged the last of his arousal right where he was trying to prevent you from getting.

 “Holy--.”

 The sudden tightness of your throat around him cut the ending of the word off. You shook your head, giving him the full feel of where he was and letting him know just how you planned on fucking with him. When his eyes met yours, you knew he’d picked up on your plan. Nick pulled you up and pulled you down on his lap. As you straddled him, his cock rested persistently against your ass, teasing you. You brought your lips to his, and again, he evaded your kiss. You were getting annoyed with the bullshit now. Before you could voice your annoyance, Nick pushed you back but caught you before you fell to the floor. He then grabbed your thigh and pulled them to his face. Before you knew it, your thighs were spread with his face buried between your legs.

 “Oh, fuck!”

 He was in no mood for slow or teasing. It was evident with the way he feasted. Nick sucked your clit into his mouth, and that was when your hands dropped to the floor to brace yourself. Nick’s arm around your waist held you firm while his other hand kept one of your thighs right where he wanted it.

 Whimper after whimper escaped your lips, and with every one he used it as fuel to show you who was in control right now. You may have thought it was you, but Nick was good at taking all he allowed away. His tongue flicked against your flesh, and your body shook, making him hold you tighter. You trusted him implicitly and knew he’d never hurt you in any way you weren’t okay with.

 When Nick slurped against you, you were done for.

 “Fuck, I’m gonna come, baby.”

 Just like that, Nick stood and brought you to the bed. He then tossed you onto it just before your orgasm gripped you. Groaning from frustration, you looked at him. You were in time to see him peel his shirt from his body. Once free of it, he dropped his pants, leaving him entirely bare before you. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you spread your legs, making sure he saw just how badly you wanted him—how much you were sorry.

 Nick reached for you, gripped the waist of your thong, and pulled. It took a few moments to realize he wasn’t trying to free you from the silk that bound the part of you he wanted to ravish. Instead, he was bringing you to him. Once you were before him, he used that beautiful cock of his to slap your clit.

 You arched your back and felt the familiar feeling that signaled an oncoming orgasm. He did it again and again, but when you were right at the precipice of your release, Nick stopped. Glaring at him, you saw his mischievous smirk.

 “This won’t be easy, princess.”

 You groaned loudly while rolling your eyes.

 “So, this will be hard?” Nick quirked his brow while stroking his length.

 “Oh, it’s already hard, princess. Can’t you tell?”

 “How can I? You won’t give it to me.”

 “Beg for it.”

 He knew you hated begging.

 “Nick,” you warned.

 “Y/N.”

 Narrowing your eyes, you showcased that stubbornness he hated but loved to fuck out of you.

 “Be careful, princess. I’m sure you want to walk tomorrow.”

 He made a good point, and you knew he was good for it. Biting back the sarcastic remark you thought of, you took a breath.

 “Fuck me, baby.”

 He smiled.

 “Not good enough.”

 Dropping your hand between your legs, you decided to do what he could not resist. Nick watched you play with yourself for a few moments before he slapped your hand away while shaking his head.

 “I hope that was worth it, princess.”

  🎶 Once the words were out, you began to say something, but he slammed into you using the slickness of your desire to aid the glide of his thick, throbbing member. Once fully sheathed, he didn’t wait or allow you to adjust. Instead, he pulled back and did the action again and again. Once nestled in your tightness, Nick rotated his hips, sending your back off the mattress. He then pulled you closer to the edge of the bed and quickly thrust in and out of you. Each move he made, the sounds your combined bodies made echoed in the room. The instrumental version of Wicked Games made for the perfect background sound as Nick worked your body like a professional maestro.

 Everything he did only aided you on your quest for a release. His thrusts were deep and powerful. His intention was clear, and you knew tomorrow would have you feeling the delicious ache of him. You gasped when he held you against his body and jackhammered into you, sending him so deep you almost couldn’t bear it.

 “Fuck, Nick!”

 He simply groaned, then lifted you bringing you to the windows of your bedroom. Pressing you against the window, he fucked you there, taking the time and care to nudge that bundle if nerved deep within you that promised an intergalactic release.

 “Yes, baby, fuck me! Right there!”

 Your panting melded with his that began to rival how loud you were.

 “Oh, fu--!”

 Nick released your leg, allowing you to put it on the floor. The change of angle was what pushed you over the edge. You screamed as the electric feeling coursed through you making your limbs tense up and spasm as if you’d stuck your finger into an electrical socket. Even through the orgasm, you knew this was not the intergalactic one Nick’s thrusts promised.

 Without knowing how you felt the cold glass press to your cheek. Your reflection caught your eye, and it was then you realized he’d turned you and was now fucking you into oblivion using all the power his muscular body held.

 “Mmmm. Who do you belong to, princess?”

 Your throat was dry. Words would be difficult. Instead, you panted, hoping he understood. When he forcefully flicked his hips forward, making your body jerk and you scream out, you knew he didn’t understand.

 “Who!?”

 “You.” It was raspy and barely coherent. You gasped, feeling him deliver another bruising blow.

 “Who’s pussy is this?”

 “Yours.” A whisper.

 “Who fucks you so right!?”

 He must have thought you needed coaxing to answer because his hand snaked between your legs to roll your clit between his fingers. Your body jerked, then softly shook. Your panting prohibited any speech.

 “Who!?”

 You weren’t trying to be disobedient. You simply couldn’t muster speech. You knew he didn’t care and would tell you to “dig deep.” When you’d remained silent for too long, you felt his large thumb slip into what was considered a taboo spot, but between you, it was far from taboo.

 You flung your head back and instantly began shaking more violently.

 “Tell me before I put this thick dick right where you want it,” Nick warned.

 “Y—yo—you do. You fu—fuck me so fu—cking good!”

 He bent over your back and looked at you. “Damn right, I do.”

 Nick then plowed into you with reckless abandon as his thumb worked your forbidden hole and his other hand rolled your clit. This was what was promised, and you chased after it with everything you had left.

 “Fuck, Y/N, you feel too fucking good! Mmm, this pussy was meant for me. You were meant for me.”

 Nick thrust once, then twice, and a third before his hips began to stagger, delivering sloppy but precise thrusts. In seconds he hit your spot so right that the floodgates opened, and it was over. You shot off like a rocket into the sky, then past earth into space, and finally an entirely different galaxy.

 “Fuuuuuuuuck!”

 Your scream was so loud your ears began to ring, and Nick’s pants and moans became inaudible. The only indication you knew that he’d come was how far he was trying to bury himself inside of you and the fulfilling feeling of being so full you could burst. You remained where you were, shaking, convulsing, and unable to move. When you felt soft sheets underneath you, you realized once again; Nick had carried you to the bed.

 You had no energy, your body felt like jello, but you found a way to turn to face him. He was already watching you with sweat rolling down his face and his wet hair in a bevy of curls. You loved this view. The moments after your coital escapades were always the time where you felt like you could see all the way to his soul.

 “I’m sorry,” you whispered, ignoring the soreness you felt there.

 Nick brought his lips to yours and gently kissed you, slowly licking and sucking on them.

 “I love you, Y/N.”

 Your heart melted.

 “But don’t ever forget, I’ll fuck you into next week until you don’t know your ABCs from your 123s,” he finished.

 Your pussy flooded. He was playing with fire cause that didn’t sound like a warning at all. As a matter of fact, it sounded like a challenge. Walking was overrated.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@chaneajoyyy​ @caramara3​ @night-of-the-living-shred​ @mauvecherie​ @areubeingserved​ @queenoftheworldisdead​ @ramp-it-up​ @i-just-like-fanfics​ @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls​ @wondersofdreaming​ @koko-michelle

[chaneajoyyy]

Who writes for Nick Sagar?🥺 you got me thirsty with all those pics & now I wanna read about [redacted] his [redacted]

The only person I know who writes for Nick Sagar is my good sis @royallyprincesslilly with the story Work For It (it’s soo good!). Lisseenn same!!😩. If anyone know of stories on here, wattpad and AO3, hit me up!

[royallyprincesslilly]

Miss Lily, may I please be on the Nick Sagar tag pls😁

You got it love!