AU Fic: Domina Cariño (9/?)
Domina Cariño (9/?)
Pairing: Fernando Torres/Sergio Ramos
Rating: soft R (overall)
Word count: 853
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.
Summary: This is a story about trust and control, in both love and lust.
Warning: Some parts (not all) may contain minor yet integral BDSM scenes/themes.
Where does he even begin to explain himself?
As a boy, the grownups would remark at how neat and well-behaved he was compared to other boys his age, especially as his room was so tidy and all his toys, books, and clothes were in their right place.
In highschool, the other kids would call him weird and dorky because of his tucked-in shirt and his sandwich-eating ways, but after he had invited a few of them over to watch movies and he insisted on explaining to them the next few scenes, they would begin to call him a killjoy, too.
And when he had begun dating, the guy would say his routines and habits are endearing and that he’s hot when he’s being possessive, but when he would try to integrate his routines into their dating life and when he would ask about his boyfriend’s daily schedule, the guy would say he’s suffocating and that his routines and habits are actually quite annoying, too.
Sergio knows the problem, and he’s been trying to change. Sometimes, though, it’s just really hard. Was it so wrong for him to feel safe in his routines, to never want any unpleasant surprises?
Fernando was a surprise, but a pleasant one. He had felt a rush of excitement around him, a surge of boldness that made him do things he normally wouldn’t. Fernando looking up at him meekly through his lashes, his freckles standing out from his flushed skin, his soft moans and mewling noises - they make Sergio want to explore him further, touch him in new places, give him new sensations. He liked knowing that his touch, his tongue, and his mouth drew out these reactions from Fernando’s body. He made Fernando feel this. He made Fernando come.
But that was also the problem. Fernando brings out these urges in him, the very tendencies he’s been trying to change. And sometimes, he gets the feeling that at any point, Fernando can make him stop. At any point, he can deny Sergio - but he doesn’t. He thinks then about the irony of being the one who’s needling and controlling yet having his actions depend so much on someone letting him.
He told himself this the first couple of times that Fernando didn’t show up at the coffee shop or the apartment. He had come back before, and he had let Sergio fuck him in his boring kitchen, on his boring bed, in his boring shower, on his boring furniture, and he once ate the pickles and onions off Sergio’s sandwich.
But Fernando doesn’t show up again at the coffee shop, neither does he drop by the apartment. By Friday, Sergio finds himself back at the smoke-filled club with the fluorescent blue drink. He has already downed quite a few shots when he decides to give up. He takes out his phone and dials a number he didn’t think he still had. He’s only probably drunk but definitely horny, and all he can think about is freckled skin under his touch.
The disturbingly husky female voice greets him again as it had all those weeks ago.
“Lady O speaking.”
“Hi, I want -”
“Who’s this?”
Brusque, calm, firm, authoritative. He wants -
“It’s Sergio Ramos,” he mumbles shyly, surprising himself.
“Ah, Mr. Ramos. Tell us what we can do for you.”
“I want -” he stops to gather his thoughts but fails. “I want Niño,” he just blurts out.
The background static of the line buzzes in his ear, or perhaps that’s the buzzing in his head from the drink.
“Very straight to the point, are we, Mr. Ramos?”
“I mean, I want to make an appointment with him.” He’s glad she can’t see the way his cheeks are burning red right now.
The line is quiet again as he considers if he has somewhat been rude, but the woman speaks again, an amused tone to her voice.
“I’m afraid Niño is not available in the meantime.”
Sergio freezes on the pavement where he’s been trying to hail a cab. He’s still trying to understand what the woman just said, and trying to come up with something to say. She adds, though:
“I can get you someone else. We might have another Dom who fits your -”
“No, I… When would Niño be available?” He squeezes his eyes shut, imagining the knowing grin that must be spreading across the woman’s face on the other end.
“Well, I’ll have to ask him, and then I’ll call you back.”
“Uh, thanks. Thank you,” he manages to mumble quite respectably.
A couple jostles past him to climb inside the cab he just hailed. The girl looks over and gives him an apologetic smile. A fresh and glaring bite mark on the girl’s shoulder catches his eye, and he’s left pondering the sight as the cab pulls away.
“Okay then, I’ll call you back. And I’m sure Niño will appreciate your loyalty,” the woman says before hanging up.
He remembers the somewhat tangy taste of Fernando’s sweaty skin where he had bitten him. He’s sure it ended up as an ugly and nasty bruise.
Pairing: Fernando Torres/Sergio Ramos
Rating: soft R (overall)
Word count: 853
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.
Summary: This is a story about trust and control, in both love and lust.
Warning: Some parts (not all) may contain minor yet integral BDSM scenes/themes.
Where does he even begin to explain himself?
As a boy, the grownups would remark at how neat and well-behaved he was compared to other boys his age, especially as his room was so tidy and all his toys, books, and clothes were in their right place.
In highschool, the other kids would call him weird and dorky because of his tucked-in shirt and his sandwich-eating ways, but after he had invited a few of them over to watch movies and he insisted on explaining to them the next few scenes, they would begin to call him a killjoy, too.
And when he had begun dating, the guy would say his routines and habits are endearing and that he’s hot when he’s being possessive, but when he would try to integrate his routines into their dating life and when he would ask about his boyfriend’s daily schedule, the guy would say he’s suffocating and that his routines and habits are actually quite annoying, too.
Sergio knows the problem, and he’s been trying to change. Sometimes, though, it’s just really hard. Was it so wrong for him to feel safe in his routines, to never want any unpleasant surprises?
Fernando was a surprise, but a pleasant one. He had felt a rush of excitement around him, a surge of boldness that made him do things he normally wouldn’t. Fernando looking up at him meekly through his lashes, his freckles standing out from his flushed skin, his soft moans and mewling noises - they make Sergio want to explore him further, touch him in new places, give him new sensations. He liked knowing that his touch, his tongue, and his mouth drew out these reactions from Fernando’s body. He made Fernando feel this. He made Fernando come.
But that was also the problem. Fernando brings out these urges in him, the very tendencies he’s been trying to change. And sometimes, he gets the feeling that at any point, Fernando can make him stop. At any point, he can deny Sergio - but he doesn’t. He thinks then about the irony of being the one who’s needling and controlling yet having his actions depend so much on someone letting him.
He told himself this the first couple of times that Fernando didn’t show up at the coffee shop or the apartment. He had come back before, and he had let Sergio fuck him in his boring kitchen, on his boring bed, in his boring shower, on his boring furniture, and he once ate the pickles and onions off Sergio’s sandwich.
But Fernando doesn’t show up again at the coffee shop, neither does he drop by the apartment. By Friday, Sergio finds himself back at the smoke-filled club with the fluorescent blue drink. He has already downed quite a few shots when he decides to give up. He takes out his phone and dials a number he didn’t think he still had. He’s only probably drunk but definitely horny, and all he can think about is freckled skin under his touch.
The disturbingly husky female voice greets him again as it had all those weeks ago.
“Lady O speaking.”
“Hi, I want -”
“Who’s this?”
Brusque, calm, firm, authoritative. He wants -
“It’s Sergio Ramos,” he mumbles shyly, surprising himself.
“Ah, Mr. Ramos. Tell us what we can do for you.”
“I want -” he stops to gather his thoughts but fails. “I want Niño,” he just blurts out.
The background static of the line buzzes in his ear, or perhaps that’s the buzzing in his head from the drink.
“Very straight to the point, are we, Mr. Ramos?”
“I mean, I want to make an appointment with him.” He’s glad she can’t see the way his cheeks are burning red right now.
The line is quiet again as he considers if he has somewhat been rude, but the woman speaks again, an amused tone to her voice.
“I’m afraid Niño is not available in the meantime.”
Sergio freezes on the pavement where he’s been trying to hail a cab. He’s still trying to understand what the woman just said, and trying to come up with something to say. She adds, though:
“I can get you someone else. We might have another Dom who fits your -”
“No, I… When would Niño be available?” He squeezes his eyes shut, imagining the knowing grin that must be spreading across the woman’s face on the other end.
“Well, I’ll have to ask him, and then I’ll call you back.”
“Uh, thanks. Thank you,” he manages to mumble quite respectably.
A couple jostles past him to climb inside the cab he just hailed. The girl looks over and gives him an apologetic smile. A fresh and glaring bite mark on the girl’s shoulder catches his eye, and he’s left pondering the sight as the cab pulls away.
“Okay then, I’ll call you back. And I’m sure Niño will appreciate your loyalty,” the woman says before hanging up.
He remembers the somewhat tangy taste of Fernando’s sweaty skin where he had bitten him. He’s sure it ended up as an ugly and nasty bruise.