#dom!natasha romanoff

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Bound by Desire

I've Got a Feeling (1)

Dom!Natasha x switch!Wanda x subby!brat!fem!reader

Word Count: 1.9K

Summary: Natasha and Wanda have been in a happy and healthy BDSM relationship for years, but have been looking for a third for Wanda's sake. When they meet you, they might have gotten more than they bargained for.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, BDSM relationship, dom!nat, switch!Wanda, sub!reader, Daddy!nat, Mommy!Wanda, strap use(r receiving), bondage (more will be added as things occur)

A/N: I worked on this all yesterday and some the day before when the idea came to me. Please Enjoy~

The sun filtered through the curtains of the bedroom windows and the skylights. You had never appreciated the morning before, but as you wake up under silk sheets; your sleep shorts and tank top it feels right.

As you stretched out you felt a set of arms wrap around you, pulling you close and breathing you in. A smile spreads across your face.

“Good morning Pchelka.” The husky voice you'd come to know as Natasha whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Good morning Daddy.” You have a purr to your voice as she kisses over your shoulder and up your neck.

Small noises making their way out of you as her hand glides down between your legs. She rubs you over your shorts only increasing the need and ache between your legs.

“Tasha! Honey bee! Breakfast! Come help with setting the table!” Wanda called up the stairs.

You didn't want to, but a whine came out of your mouth and a chuckle from Natasha.

“Mommy is calling Pchelka. Guess you'll have to wait a little longer.” She whispered in your ear making another whine come out.

“Please Daddy…so achy…” you turned slightly to look into her dark green eyes. Pleading with your own for her to give in, but you knew better by now.

Her hands slipped away from you as she got up. “No Pchelka. Mommy's calling and you know not to keep her waiting. Head down, I'll be there in a few minutes.”

A pout on your face as you got out of the sheets, another shiver overcoming you as your feet hit the cold hardwood flooring. You headed down to find Wanda still cooking, by the smell of it she had turkey bacon. You learned early on that Wanda liked anything that was a healthier option.

You moved over to her, leaning up and kissing her cheek, “Good morning Mommy.” You felt her smile as you kissed her cheek.

“Good morning my precious girl. Did you sleep well?” Her arm wraps around your waist and gives a kiss back to your cheek.

“I did Mommy, but then Daddy started to tease me when I woke up…” you complain, giving the same pleading eyes to Wanda.

“Oh my poor little girl. I bet you're all achy right?”

Your lip is shaking in a pout, all you want is their touch right now. Wanda gives you a sympathetic look. Leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“Please Mommy…so achy…” you bury your face between her arm and chest. She pulls you back out, gently by your chin.

“Dorogoya, be a good girl for Mommy, get the table set, get me out the juice and after breakfast we can discuss your neediness.” You wanted to protest, but knew that would result in a punishment instead of a reward. So you got to doing as asked.

Their dining room is elegant and bathed in soft morning light streaming through tall, arched windows draped with sheer, ivory curtains. A crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling, casting a gentle glow over the room. The polished mahogany dining table is set by you with lovely plating and sparkling glassware, ready for a refined breakfast. Elegant high-back chairs, upholstered in rich, deep blue velvet, are neatly arranged around the table. A vase of fresh flowers that Wanda changes weekly, a mix of white lilies and pale pink roses, sits as the centerpiece, adding a touch of natural beauty to the sophisticated setting. The atmosphere is serene and inviting, perfect for a leisurely morning meal.

You smile at your handy work before bounding back through the curved archway to the kitchen. You stop in your tracks when you see Natasha's arms wrapped around Wanda's waist, as they share an intimate moment it makes something bubble inside of you. Your hands curl into fists and then out a few times.

“Hey!” It's bubbling over before you can stop it. “I set the table and I come back to this!?” Your voice is a shrieking tone. Wanda and Natasha looking at you. Though Natasha wants to stop this before it starts Wanda stares you down.

“Y/N. We were having a moment just like you and I were before you went to set the table, remember?” Wanda's voice is gentle and motherly, it always was. You know logically she's right and besides, they're married you're just some college girl they felt sorry for.

You look down at your fingers that are now absentmindedly dancing together. “M’Sorry Mommy…” You manage out. They deserve each other, you're just here to help. Eventually they'll get bored of you and then you'll be back to your old life living in an apartment that's two sizes too small and way too expensive.

“It's okay dorogoya, come get the juice and we'll have breakfast. Come here and give Mommy a hug first.” She calls, ushering you over as Natasha takes the plates of bacon, pancakes, and eggs to the dining room.

You trudge your way over to Wanda, burying your face into her chest as her arms encircle you. Her hands rubbing your back lightly in an attempt to quell the feelings rising inside of you, but she couldn't help the feelings she didn't know about. You weren't about to tell her either as she soothed you with kind words of reassurance without ever actually mentioning the words ‘I love you.’

°○°○°○°○°

She filled you perfectly. Her strap was made for you and though earlier this was all you wanted, now it was somehow feeling suffocating. Your thoughts from earlier never stopped. They'd been going through your head all day. You'd just wish it would stop as you tried to concentrate on the pleasure your Mommy was giving, but it wasn't helping.

Thoughts racing and suddenly it's all feeling like too much and you're pulling at your restraints. “Red!” Everything stops and in a whirl you're set free. Wanda tries to scoop you up, but you stop her. “Space.” It wasn't often you asked for that as you got off the bed in a hurry, running to your room.

You curled up under the sheets, tears falling as your body shook. You heard the soft knock at the door, thanking yourself you had locked it.

“Dorogoya please let me in, I just want to talk.” Wanda's voice called for you lovingly, making you clam up more. You didn't want to talk, you wanted to be silent, words felt too hard right now. “Y/N…please let me in…” you heard her voice crack ever so slightly.

You had never gone non-verbal around them, you had never brought it up either. You internally cursed yourself for this as you sat up, wrapping a blanket around yourself and plod over to the door, twisting the lock and moving back to your spot in the middle of the bed.

You heard Wanda slip in behind you, her soft steps on the hardwood. The bed sinking beneath her weight. Judging by the feeling she sat away from you towards the pillows.

You couldn't look at her, but you heard her take in a sharp breath before speaking. “I'm not sure why you called red darling, but whatever the reason is I'm glad you did call it when you needed to. I know we're still getting used to this. It's only been a month so I'm sure we're going to have bumps along the way. I'd like to fix this if possible.” Wanda's trying to make things better and still you can't answer her.

You finally sit up facing her. She's in a scarlet robe, she must have thrown it on quickly once she took off her strap. There was only one time you had called red and it was from lack of reassurance.

Wanda had been using a lot of degrading on you in a session and not enough praise. You ended up calling red and crying in her arms for a bit.

You point to your throat and making a silent scream, trying to let her know you can't talk as she looks at you a little confused. Then you added a zipped lip to it and it clicked.

“You can't talk right now, okay, that's fine. I can work with that until you can. So yes or no questions?” She asks with a little head tilt and you give a nod.

“Was it something I did?” You shake your head. “Was it something you did?” You tilt your head from one side to the other, contemplating before pointing to your brain. “Okay your head, was it bad thoughts?” You give her a nod.

You're scrunching up the blanket in your hands, worried about what's to come next for you. Tightening back up a bit before she shifts forward just enough to reach out for your chin. Such a gentle clasp she has as you tilt up to meet those sea glass eyes.

“Darling whatever those bad thoughts are saying I can promise you they are untrue. I know that's hard to believe because you haven't told me about them, but I know they're untrue.” Her honeyed voice always wrapped around you. It made you feel so safe. Like nothing could hurt you.

The tears fall freely as you crawl into her lap, koalaing your way around her. She soothes you the whole time, rubbing your back and humming a light tune, every so often a bit of Sokovian comes out in the song.

You could have stayed like that for hours. It almost felt like you did, yet at the same time it felt like mere minutes.

“M'Sorry Mommy…I just…bad thoughts…felt suffocated…” She kept rubbing your back, not forcing anything out of you. “I just…feel like you and Tasha are gonna get bored of me…you have each other and…and…” your voice started cracking as more tears fell.

Wanda wanted to intervene; she knew exactly where those thoughts were going, yet she let you talk. Knowing it would be best to let you get it out. It was already eating you alive.

“Just want to be important…want to be special…” Your throat stung as you choked back sobs to keep it together long enough to speak.

“Oh my precious little honey bee. Mommy was right, those thoughts aren't true. You mean so much to Daddy and I. You are our perfect little girl. The missing piece to our puzzle. We wouldn't dream of letting you go.” She always knew what to say, making your tears fall more.

She pulled you back just enough to wipe the tears. A small apologetic smile gracing her lips. “I know my words only go so far, but I will always make sure to let you know you are loved by us. You aren't something we're tossing away.”

You smiled before pressing your forehead to hers. She took the opportunity to give you a little peck.

“Thank you for the reassurance Mommy. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier.”

“That's okay honey bee. I'm glad you were able to tell me. I do worry about you not telling me things. I know you like to carry everything, but I'm here and so is Nat. You can tell us anything.”

You simply nod against her, re-resting yourself onto her shoulder. A soft content sigh falling from your lips. You knew the bad thoughts would come back, but now you know you can always talk about it.

Taglist: @itsalwaysskorpioszn @boredandneedfanfics @godhatesgoodgirls

[lesbon4t]

very good

pairing : natasha romanoff x reader

warnings : rlly heavy praise kink, spanking, punishments, degrading, lil pain kink, mommy kink, strap-on usage, mention of blood, thigh riding, choking, lil bit of hair pulling, marking, dumbification, edging.

summary : you miss one of your russian lessons and your girlfriend is mad about it (3778 words)

MINORS DNI !! THIS IS A FIC FOR MATURE AUDIENCES AND I AM VERY UNCOMFORTABLE WITH MINORS READING MY FICS !! ANY BLOG WITHOUT THEIR AGE STATED OR WITHOUT 18+ IN THEIR BIO WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED !!

not proof read

A mixture of pleasure and pain hit you once again, you let out a yelp as another tear ran down your cheek. "Shhhh, it's alright baby, almost there," Natasha assured you. You were currently on your stomach over her thigh, you had missed one of your russian lessons hence breaking the rules put in place between you and Nat.

You held in a breath when you no longer felt her hand in contact with your stinging skin and braced for the next blow. Her hand came down harder than the previous one and the sound of it echoed through out the room. You bit your bottom lip so hard to stop yourself from screaming that it drew blood and your hands gripped onto Nat's thigh even tighter, your fingernails sank into her skin and you were sure it would leave her with marks.

You felt her hand once again soothing over the area she just spanked you, her thumb going in circles and you fell into her touch. "Very good," she said under her breath, just loud enough for you to hear, "I knew you could do it, you're such a good girl for me aren't you ?"

Her hand on your hip that held you in place moved to your scalp, she massaged it comfortingly and pulled it lightly from time to time just the way she knew you liked it, you let out a whimper and Nat chuckles, "Always so responsive..." her hand leaves your scalp, moving back to its secure place on your hips and you're already missing the way it felt in your hair.

"Just three more and we can do whatever you want for the rest of the night baby." She assured you and you let out a whine. She frowned and pinched your sore skin harshly, you jerk due to how unexpected it was but Nat’s hand around your waist kept you in place, " You know you have to finish your punishment, You broke a rule and that's on you angel." she reprimands you, "We wouldn't be here if you had went to your russian lessons like a good girl would we ?"

You nodded and felt your face turn red because she was right, if you had went to your russian lesson who knows what the both of you could be doing right now ? Instead you were over Nat’s knee getting your ass spanked till it was black and blue. You highly doubted you'd be able to walk or sit properly tomorrow. She pinched you again but lightly this time, "Words love, we've talked about this." she reminded you. "Yes," you muttered softly, you knew what she wanted you to say.

You could practically feel Nat’s eyes burning into you, she rubbed circles on your thigh and smirked, "Yes who ?" she asked. Your cheeks turned red, and the silence in the room became loud "C'mon, I know you know the answer pretty girl, go on. It's okay, it's just us." she encouraged you. "Yes mommy.", the words flew out of your mouth quickly and quietly, you buried your head into her thigh, mildly embarrassed, yet aroused. Nat smiled, it always took you some encouragement to call her that but god was it worth it at the end because she loved that title coming out of your mouth. "Good..." she praised, "Good fuckin' girl."

"Baby, I know I said that you need to finish your punishment but you've just been so good for me," her body dips and suddenly her lips are next to your ear, they brush against the shell of your ear lightly and it sent a shiver down your spine. Nat always seemed to have some sort of effect on you, every movement she made towards you had your stomach filled with butterflies and goosebumps raise on your skin. Her hand made its way up your body and her fingers ghosted where you needed her the most.

You wanted to whine but the urge to be good for her was stronger. "Been listening to me," she listed it out and her middle finger teases your core, "Been doing what i told you to do..." she muttered and her finger moves a strip up your heat, collecting your wetness. Nat brings her fingers up and smirks, "So fuckin' wet for me and I haven't even touched you properly yet, such a filthy little girl." she pops her middle finger into her mouth and stares you dead in the eye whilst doing so, she groans at your taste and you can feel yourself getting even wetter.

When she pulls her fingers out of her mouth she smiles, "Been taking your punishment so well." Nat taps your ass twice and you push yourself off her thigh to stand up, this was a familiar command from her, one of which she always used to show her authority around you. She loved having different subtle ways to show her possessiveness over you, she didn't like it to be shown too publicly but she loved it when it was subtle yet obvious enough for people to notice.

When you stood up a slight pain shot up your legs and you wince. Nat notices and she smirks, you hold onto her shoulder to properly stand and when you did she stood up too, her figure towering over yours. Her hand rose to caress your cheek, "Been such a good fuckin' girl for your mommy, haven't you ?" she asked, and you nod, "Yes mommy, always." When you used the title without hesitation, Nat smiled, "I think you deserve a reward pretty girl." She bends down slightly and her lips collide with yours, there was never a fight between the both of you when it got to taking control, Nat always got it and you were happy with that.

Her tongue swipes your bottom lip and you give her access to slip her tongue in, you can feel her grin against your lips. Her hand moves from your cheek to your chin, making your head tilt upwards, deepening the kiss whilst her spare hand travels down your body to grab your ass, smacking it . You moan into the kiss, the pleasure mixed with the pain just made you wetter. When the both of you ran out of air your lips parted, Nat started kissing your jawline and then she muttered "On the bed for me love, I want to see you on your back, I'll be right back," and pressed one more lingering kiss onto your lips before leaving the room.

You quickly made your way to the bed, removing your bra from your chest, that being the only piece of clothing that was still on you. You lay down on your back just like she told you to and you could feel your wetness dripping onto the sheets, the urge to relieve yourself of the knot in your stomach came quick. Your hands grabbed the sheets, gripping onto them tightly holding onto the little amount of self control you had, you were so close to getting a reward you weren't going to ruin it for yourself now. If any time was a good time for Nat to come back it would be now, you didn't know just how long more you could take it.

Just like she could read your mind, Nat came right back into the room, your head looked up and towards the door to see her. She was still fully clothed, her shirt and jewelry and everything stayed,  but her pants now had a noticeable bulge and you knew she was packing. Something about the way she was fully clothed whilst you were completely naked had you squeezing your thighs together. Nat almost groaned when she caught sight of you, looking so pretty and ready for her, but instead her pupils dilated and the mood changed drastically, a smirk hanging on her lips.

She walked towards where you were on the bed and her fingers touched your legs lightly. She walked towards where your head was slowly and so did her fingers, moving up your body teasingly. You took in a shaky breath and whimpered at her touch. Nat hummed in approval before bending down to catch you at eye level, "You're so pretty baby, you've been waiting so patiently for me haven't you?" she asked. You looked at her with eyes that were at the brink of tears, your needs getting to you, "Need you so bad, please." you said softly.

Nat looked at you with fake pity, "Oh love... I'm so sorry I took so long, left you here all needy for me, squirming on the bed like the filthy little girl you are." she says in a sultry way, "I'm so sorry I didn't take care of my girl." she taunted , and she started crawling onto the bed slowly until she was on top of you. Her knee was slotted in between your thighs, pressing against your core whilst her arms were on the sides of your body, trapping you below her.

You gasped when you felt her knee come into contact with your pussy. Needing any form of friction right now, you started to move your hips involuntarily, rubbing yourself all over her thigh. Nat took notice of it quickly, her arms moving to your hips to hold them in place. "But I can take care of my girl now, can't I ?" she asked with a frown, "Or do you want to do it yourself ?"

You shake your head, "No natty, no, please, no. I'll be good, I'll be so good for you, I promise, please. " you begged, you needed her, wanted her so bad. But all she did was cock her head to the side and stare at you with disappointment, "I'm not convinced." she said simply, and just as you were about to protest she continued, "But you can prove to me that you'll be good." You quickly lit with hope again, you were willing to do whatever she asked you to do.

Nat pushes herself up from the bed so she's no longer towering over you and moves to sit herself on the side of the bed. She turns to your confused self and makes a come here motion with her index finger. You get up from the bed and kneel next to where she is on the bed. "Stand up." she demanded and you quickly get off the bed to stand in front of her. Nat looks you up and down and admires your figure, biting her bottom lip, you felt like that look alone could make you cum. She then pats her thigh signalling for you to sit on it and so you did, your bare pussy atop her clothed thigh.

"Ride it." she said, and your brain paused for a second, you needed to hear what she said again. "W-What ?", you muttered. Nat rolled her eyes, "You know I don't like repeating myself baby, I said ride it." she repeated. Your face turned red and blood rushed up your cheeks. Nat almost chuckled at the sight of you, so confused, you looked adorable. Her hands made its way to your sides just above your hip, her thumb rubbed circles, "Why so shy ?" she taunted you, "You were so happy humping on mommy's knee earlier." Nat bounced her leg and your clit bumped against her flexed thigh, you let out a pornographic moan, "Or did my baby turn dumb ?" she asked, "Either you do what I tell you to do, or you're not gonna cum tonight."

You look at her with wide eyes and she raises an eyebrow, challenging you to disobey her. So you put your hands on her shoulder and start to move your hips against her thigh, your slick covering her pants, and she smirks, somehow, she always got her way with you. You try to contain the moans that threatened to spill out of your mouth, this was already embarrassing enough, getting yourself off of Nat’s thigh was humiliating.

But she grabbed your chin and turned your head so you were staring into her eyes, "Let those pretty moans out love, let me hear how good you're doing for me." Nat encouraged you and so you did as she said, moans and whimpers coming out of your mouth whilst your hips moved against the wet patch you've created on her pants.

The friction between her pants and your clit was a little painful and a little rough you had to admit but it felt so good so you moved your hips even faster, the knot in your stomach twisted even tighter, and you started to chase your high. The wet sounds you were making against her thigh echoed throughout the room, "Such filthy sounds you're making," Nat commented and her eyes were filled with a new light, "I'm starting to think you like doing this baby, not a punishment anymore is it ?"

Your hips were beginning to slow and she knew you were tired so she placed her hands on your hips guiding you against her thigh. The moans you let out increased and you could feel your release approaching, "P-please." you stuttered, "so close" you choked out, unable to say more words, too engrossed in your own pleasure. "Hold it." Nat said firmly. You threw your head back, trying your best to hold it, and Nat placed wet kisses along your neck. You squeezed your eyes shut, just as you knew you were about to come she held your hips in place, the stimulation you were getting got cut off.

You tried to move your hips, trying to gain any kind of friction, anything to make you cum, but Nat held your hips in place firmly, she chuckled at the sight of you, she loved playing with you. For once, you hated how she knew your body so well. Frustrated tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes and she caressed your cheek with one of her hands, "It's okay baby, you've done so good for me," she cooed, "Promise you, when mommy helps you it's gonna be so much better than what you would've gotten if I had allowed you to cum." and you nod, trying to do anything that would speed up the process to let you gain the satisfaction you desperately needed.

Nat stood up and carried you off her thigh, she placed you on the bed gently, "On your hands and knees pretty girl." she ordered and so you weakly got into the position she ordered you into. Whilst you got into the position, Nat took off her shirt and her full round breasts came into view.

You looked at them with your mouth agape and you heard her chuckle, "Looking at something ?" she asked. She then proceeded to take off her pants, the silicon strap on sprang out of her pants, and you gasped when you realised it was her favourite. The purple strap had a realistic feel, artificial veins were carved onto it, it was large, thick and long. She loved being able to fill you up completely and that was exactly what this strap did.

She turned back to the bed and climbed back into it, she placed herself right in front of your ass. Nat placed her hand on your waist which now had bruises and took the strap into her other hand. She teased your entrance, moving the strap up and down your slit, your wetness covered the tip, "Please mommy, please, just fuck me." you begged her, unable to take anymore teasing. "You can beg better than that." Nat shrugged, she thrusted her hips slightly and the tip of the strap entered you.

You whimper at the sensation just wishing for her to enter you fully. "Please mommy, please fuck me, I need you so bad, I'm so desperate for you, just need you to fuck me, please, I need you inside of me" you whine and Nat smiled, "Good fuckin' girl."

Then she thrust her hips fully, she didn't give you any warning. You let out a throaty yell at the unexpected action and your hands gripped the sheets tightly, you could feel the tip of the strap deep inside of you, Nat's pelvis against your stinging ass. "You're so wet I just slipped right in baby, didn't even need you to suck my cock." Nat said, both of her hands now on your waist. "You ready for me, sweetheart?" she asked, giving you time to adjust to the toy. You nodded frantically, "Yes please." you mumbled, and she smiled, "Such a polite little girl aren't you ?" Her upper body dipped to press a kiss to your cheek then she got right back up.

She started thrusting into you slowly, then building up the pace faster and faster. Each time her hips met yours, you could feel the tip of the strap hit your g-spot. You thanked the gods you finally had Nat’s full length right where you needed her, you felt so full but you still needed more, as if she could read your mind she pulled out the strap completely. Before you could ask her what she was doing, she slammed her hips right back against yours and you screamed. That movement alone could have made you cum.

"Gonna fuck you so good baby, you deserve this after waiting all day don't ya ?" she asked and you couldn't answer, your eyes rolled to the back of your head whilst Nat repeated that action of slamming into you again and again, "Gonna ruin you for everyone else, gonna make you feel me for days." Nat’s words drove you wild, the pleasure she gave you almost felt overstimulating. "Fuck..." she groaned as she drove into you at a brutal pace, each time her hips met your sore ass, it was a reminder of what she did to you earlier and a reminder that you were hers.

You wanted to respond to the filthy things she said but you couldn't, instead small murmurs of gibberish and untellable words came out, "What did you say ? Is mommy making you feel so good that you're going dumb ?" she asked, and it was true, only she could make you feel so good that your mind went dead and the words spilling out of your mouth became gibberish.

Nat’s hand reached for your neck and she pulled you up so you were on your knees, your back against her chest as she pounded into you. Her hand applied pressure against your neck, making whatever you were trying to say before unable to even come out of your throat. She attached her mouth to your neck, sucking on it and making sure that purple marks would appear on you tomorrow. "You look so pretty like this for me love, covered in my marks, me pounding into you, and all of you, completely at my mercy." She groaned as she thrusted into you even faster.

Her other hand on your waist now moved to the front, her middle finger and index finger found your clit and started circling around it, making you cry out a guttural scream, your back arched and you couldn't fathom how one woman could make you feel this way. "You wanna cum for me, sweet girl ?" Nat asked in such a sweet tone, it contrasted the way she was thrusting into you like there was no tomorrow.

You nodded and the only sound you could muster out of yourself was a small whimper and Nat immediately understood, "Cum all over my cock love, no need to hold it in," she whispered into your ear, "Been doing so good for me, go on baby." And the moment she finished what she said, your orgasm washed over you with a such a strong force, you never had one this good before. Nat continued pounding into you but with not as much force as she used before, slowly bringing you down from your high.

She carried you off the strap and layed you down on the bed, "You did so good for me I'm so proud of you love." she praised you, and she said a million different other things but your mind was too fuzzy to fully comprehend anything she said. All you knew was that you were thankful for her and every little thing she said.

Nat got off the bed and took the strap off of her before crawling back onto the bed. She pressed loving kisses up your body till she reached your face and she kissed you lightly on the lips. With you between her arms, she asked you, "You okay ?" and you nodded sleepily. "You wanna take a shower ?" she asked, and you shook your head, "Alright baby, we'll just stay here then, I'll give you a bath tomorrow, get all the rest you need right now, I know I did a number on you."

She pressed a kiss to your nose before lying down next to you. Her arms wrapped around your body and your legs tangled together between the sheets. You turned your body so you were facing her, you could feel each others breath on your skin and Nat said softly, "I love you," she kissed you lovingly all over your face, you giggled at the ticklish sensation before moving yourself so you were in a slightly more comfortable position.

Your head rested atop Nat's chest whilst her head rested on yours, her hands soothed your body comfortingly. She pressed a kiss to the top of your head every once in awhile with a small mumble of "I love you so much." and "You're the love of my life." You closed your eyes and almost immediately fell to sleep wrapped around Nat’s comforting frame.

She moved your hair to the side so she could kiss you again on your forehead and smiled at how pretty you looked as you slept. Slowly, Nat also closed her eyes and she fell asleep to the sound of your breath and her arms around your body.

a/n : hope y’all enjoyed this, it was super fun to write and my second fic on here :D likes, replies and reposts are appreciated mwahhhh 🫂🫂

[natsaffection]

Yours to Taste | N.R

When your period starts, Natasha is forced to battle against her instincts, but the scent, the taste, the sheer temptation is too much. The moment she finally indulges, she loses herself completely.

Vampire!older!Natasha x Human!younger!Reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Age gap (N= 100+ r= 23), Blood, period sex, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), multiple orgasm, possessive Natasha

Word count: 3,4k

A/N: The idea has been buzzing around in my head for a few days now..🩸

The quiet hum of your phone vibrating against the wooden coffee table pulled your attention away from the TV screen. You had been curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, clutching a heating pad against your stomach, when you felt it, the unmistakable ache and warmth spreading through your lower abdomen. Shit.

You blinked at your phone screen. Natasha’s name was already waiting in your chat, her last message sent hours ago when she left for work. You hesitated for a second before typing.

Hey love, just a heads-up…I just got my period. Don’t freak out when you get home, okay? 😕

You hit send and stared at the screen, watching the three little dots appear. A few moments later, her response popped up.

Understood, moya lyubov (my love). I’ll be home soon.

Her message was simple, but you could almost hear the undertone of tension beneath her words. You knew she’d keep herself in control..she always did. But still, your blood had an effect on her, more than she liked to admit. You sighed, stretching your legs over the couch and burrowing deeper into the warmth of your blanket. You trusted Natasha with everything in you, but you also knew what she was. And this? This was going to test her patience.

An Hour later, the sound of the front door unlocking made you glance up. Your stomach was still twisting in knots, and you were halfway through a cup of tea when you saw her stepping through the doorway, eyes dark with something unreadable. But then she saw you, and the tension in her shoulders eased just slightly.

“Hey, darling.” she murmured, voice smooth but careful, like she was forcing herself to stay in control. “Hey.” you smiled softly, setting your cup down. “Rough day?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” She stepped forward, but then she froze. You saw it the moment the scent hit her. Her pupils dilated, her body stiffening for the briefest second before she took a slow, controlled breath. Your stomach flipped with guilt. “I’m sorry..” you mumbled, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself like it could somehow hide your scent from her. “I know this is..well, hard for you.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened, and she exhaled through her nose. “Don’t apologize.” she said, but there was a tightness to her tone, like she was barely keeping herself in check. You watched her carefully, the way her fingers twitched at her sides, the way her throat bobbed when she swallowed. Her usual sharp composure was fraying at the edges, but she was holding herself together for you.

“I can sleep in the guest room tonight..” you offered, voice gentle. Natasha’s head snapped up, her green eyes narrowing. “No.” She took another slow step toward you, moving like a predator stalking forward, but her eyes..God, her eyes held something deeper.

“You are my love.” she murmured, her voice thick with something more than just hunger. “I have lived for centuries, and not once have I felt what I feel for you.” She reached forward, her fingers ghosting over your cheek. “You don’t have to hide from me.“

“But..” you hesitated, glancing away. “I don’t want to make this harder for you.” A small chuckle escaped her lips, low and dark. “Oh, Detka (baby), you have no idea how hard it already is.” She leaned down, pressing her forehead against yours, her cold breath fanning over your skin. “Do you trust me?” she whispered. You nodded instantly. “Always.”

A smirk tugged at her lips before she pulled away slightly, her gaze flickering to your neck for the briefest moment before she looked back at you. “You should rest.” she said, her voice softer now, more controlled. “I’ll get you everything you need.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” Your lips parted in surprise, but Natasha was already turning away, slipping out of the room with graceful ease. A few minutes later, she returned with another heating pad, painkillers, and your favorite chocolate bar. She placed everything beside you before kneeling down in front of the couch, her hands resting on your knees.

“Better?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. You felt a smile tug at your lips. “Much better.” Wordlessly, she walked into the kitchen again, and a few moments later, she returned with a wine glass filled with a deep, rich red liquid- your blood. You had both prepared for days like this, ensuring Natasha had a collected supply from you when things got too difficult. It was something she had initially protested against, but eventually, she had accepted it as a compromise.

She sat down beside you, swirling the liquid in the glass before taking a slow, measured sip. A satisfied hum rumbled in her throat as the taste hit her tongue intoxicating, rich, unlike anything she had ever known. You watched her, resting your head against her shoulder. “Better?”

She turned her head slightly, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Much.” But it was a lie. Natasha was a master of control, but even she had limits. But she wouldn’t break. She refused to. Instead, she focused on you, on the way your fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on her arm, on the way you sighed as you settled deeper into the couch. “What are we watching?” she asked, shifting her attention to the screen.

“Some rom-com..” you replied, waving a hand dismissively. “I needed something light.” She chuckled, taking another slow sip from her glass. “You and your guilty pleasures.”

“You love them too!” you teased, nudging her side. A smirk played on her lips. “I tolerate them because you love them.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes but smiling nonetheless. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, watching the movie while Natasha slowly drained her glass.

But despite her best efforts, her mind kept betraying her. The blood she drank satisfied her, but it wasn’t enough. Not when the real thing was sitting right next to her, her scent wrapping around Natasha like a drug. The warmth of you, the sound of your pulse, steady and inviting made it so much worse.

Her fangs ached, her instincts screaming at her to sink them into your soft skin, to taste you directly, to indulge in the one thing she craved more than anything. She clenched her jaw, her fingers tightening around the glass.

No. She would not lose control. Not with you.

You stirred beside her, breaking her from her thoughts. “I’ll be right back..” you murmured, standing up and stretching slightly. “Bathroom break.” Natasha nodded, watching you as you disappeared down the hallway. And then she exhaled, long and slow, her carefully built restraint momentarily slipping as she ran a hand through her hair.

God..

The moment you left the room, the scent of your blood intensified. Without you sitting beside her, your fragrance spread more freely, wrapping around her like an unshakable grip. She set the empty glass down on the coffee table, flexing her fingers as she let out another slow, measured breath. Her fangs ached more now, her throat burning with the effort it took to keep them from extending fully.

The worst part? She wanted more. Not out of hunger, but out of something else. Something deeper…She wanted to taste you from the source. To have you beneath her, warm and willing, trusting her completely as she sank her fangs into you not out of need, but out of devotion.

She squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling sharply. Control! She had mastered it for centuries. She could handle this. The bathroom door opened and the scent hit her all over again. Natasha stiffened, gripping the couch cushion as her fangs pressed against her lips.

And then you walked back into the room, completely oblivious to the battle raging inside her. “Everything okay?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. She swallowed thickly, forcing a smirk onto her lips. “Of course, baby.”

Another lie.

And she prayed you wouldn’t see through it. But you weren't oblivious. You knew Natasha better than anyone-better than she sometimes knew herself. So when you stepped back into the living room and saw the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers dug into the couch cushion, the way her jaw was clenched just a fraction too tightly-you knew. She was struggling.

But she wouldn’t ask. She would never push you, never make you feel like an obligation. No matter how much she needed you, no matter how much her body screamed for your blood, she would starve before taking something you didn’t freely offer. And that’s what made you decide. A beat of silence stretched between you, thick and charged, before you slowly stepped closer. Natasha's pupils dilated slightly, but she didn't move.

You swallowed, shifting your weight from one foot to the other before speaking. "You can take from me, Nat.." you whispered, tilting your head slightly, exposing the soft skin of your neck. "I trust you." A sharp inhale. A slow exhale. Her grip on the couch tightened, her fingers curling into the fabric like it was the only thing keeping her tethered. She wanted you-God, she wanted you-but not like this.

Not when she was barely keeping herself together. She exhaled through her nose, reaching forward, her cool fingers brushing against your wrist before she gently pulled you down beside her.

"You have no idea how much that means to me." she murmured, her voice thick with emotion, "but it won't be enough." You blinked, confused. "What do you mean?" Natasha's jaw tensed. Her eyes flicked downward-toward your abdomen. Your face flushed instantly as realization hit you. “Oh.."

A flicker of something unreadable passed over her face before she met your gaze again. "Your blood is strongest at the source, moya lyubov (My love)." Her fingers brushed against your thigh, light as a feather. "That's what I need." Your heart stuttered in your chest. Heat crawled up your neck. "But..it's...” Your voice faltered, and you glanced away. "It's dirty.."

Natasha was silent for a moment, and then a quiet chuckle. Not mocking. Not teasing. Just fond "Oh, Y/n.." she murmured, cupping your cheek, coaxing you to look at her. “It's not dirty. Not to me." You bit your lip, still hesitant. "But it's..it's different..!"

"It's you." she countered, her voice dipping lower, more intimate. "The most sacred part of you." Your breath hitched. Natasha leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple before whispering, "Do you trust me?" You exhaled slowly. You did. Always. So you nodded. She leaned in, her lips ghosting over your jaw. “Let me take care of you.”

You exhaled shakily, your fingers tightening around her. You had never done this before. You had shared nights of pleasure, of intimacy, but never during your period. The thought of it made you hesitant, but the way Natasha was looking at you, like you were something sacred, something she worshiped…

Natasha’s eyes darkened with something primal, but she stayed in control, her movements slow, gentle. She kissed you deeply, her hands sliding down, undressing you inch by inch. She took her time. Even as her instincts screamed at her to just take, she resisted because this wasn’t just about her hunger.

It was about you. Making you feel comfortable. Making you enjoy it. By the time she reached her destination, her lips pressing reverent kisses down your stomach, her grip on her control was paper-thin. “Relax..” she whispered, her voice thick with desire. “Let me worship you.”

The moment your blood hit her tongue, the moment the warm, intoxicating essence slid down her throat, something inside her snapped. A deep, primal groan rumbled from her chest, vibrating against your skin as her hands tightened on your thighs, keeping you firmly in place.

She couldn’t stop- wouldn’t stop. Not now..Not when she finally had the one thing she had been denying herself for too long. The taste..it was richer than anything she had ever known. Sweet, dark, forbidden in the most delicious way. And the scent?

It was overpowering.

It clung to her senses, invading every part of her, making her wild with hunger, desperate to take more, to drink deeper, to claim you in a way that no one else ever could. And then..Your moans. The moment the first soft, broken sound slipped past your lips, Natasha shuddered.

Her grip on you tightened, her nails digging into your skin as she groaned against you, drinking deeper, her tongue flicking against you in slow, intentional strokes. “Fuck..” she murmured against your sensitive flesh, her voice thick, possessive. “You taste..so fucking..good.”

Your back arched off the couch, your fingers tangling in her red hair, your thighs trembling against her shoulders. “N-Natasha-“ She smirked against you. “That’s it..” she purred, her voice dripping with seduction. “Let me hear you, baby. Let me know how good I’m making you feel.”

Your breath hitched, a whimper escaping you as she flicked her tongue in just the right way, sucking lightly before groaning again, completely lost in the taste of you. She could feel it. The way your body was responding to her. The way your thighs tensed, the way your breathing came shorter, the way your hips jerked slightly with every slow, torturous stroke of her tongue.

“So sensitive..” Natasha teased, her voice dark with amusement. “Is it because of me, or is it because you’re already so worked up from how much I’ve been craving you?” You let out a soft cry, your nails scraping against her scalp, pulling her closer.

She groaned again, the feeling of your desperation only fueling her own. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Natasha murmured against you, her voice like velvet, like sin. “You like knowing how fucking insatiable you make me?” Your head tipped back against the couch, your entire body on fire, the pleasure building, coiling tighter, stronger with every slow, indulgent flick of her tongue.

And then Natasha felt it. The shift. The way your body suddenly went tense, the way your thighs quivered, the way your fingers gripped onto her like she was the only thing keeping you tethered to this world..and she could taste it.

The deepening of your arousal, the way your body was offering her the best of the best- “Oh..” Natasha moaned, her voice wrecked with pleasure, her own hips grinding down against the couch involuntarily. “You’re so fucking close, aren’t you, Darling?”

A desperate, needy whimper escaped you. Natasha grinned, her fangs dragging lightly against your sensitive skin, her hands gripping your thighs tighter, keeping you right where she wanted you. “Give it to me.” she whispered, her tone commanding, possessive. “Come for me, Detka (baby)c Let me taste every. Fucking. Drop.”

That was all it took. You broke, your entire body arching, a loud, desperate moan ripping from your throat as your release crashed over you, waves of heat and pleasure flooding through your veins. Natasha groaned deep, guttural, wrecked as she drank through it, devouring every last bit of you, her fingers digging into your thighs as she held you still, taking everything you had to offer.

She was fucking gone. Your taste, your pleasure it was too much. And she never wanted it to end. She didn’t stop until you were trembling, until you were whimpering, until your body had given her everything and even then, she lingered, pressing slow, possessive kisses against your inner thigh, purring against your skin as she finally, finally pulled away.

She hovered over you, her green eyes dark, her lips glistening, her breath ragged. “My beautiful Treat.” she murmured, brushing her fingers over your cheek, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. “You are everything to me.”

Your body was boneless, sprawled beneath Natasha, your chest rising and falling with ragged, uneven breaths. The aftermath of your release still pulsed through your veins, leaving you sensitive, your skin electric under her touch.

You barely had time to catch your breath before Natasha shifted, moving with effortless predatory grace. Before you could even process it, she was lifting you, flipping you, maneuvering your spent, shaking body into her lap, so your back was pressed against her chest, your head resting against the cool, safe haven of her shoulder.

You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching for her arms, gripping her like a lifeline. “N-Nat-” A low, pleased hum vibrated against your ear as she settled behind you, her strong arms locking you in place. “Oh, how cute..” she purred, her lips ghosting over your jaw, her breath cool against your overheated skin. “You didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?”

You let out a soft whimper, your body already too sensitive, too worked up- But Natasha’s hands were already moving. Right back to the mess she had created between your thighs. You whimpered sharply, your hips jerking, trying to squirm away, but she didn’t let you.

A dark chuckle left her lips as she wrapped one strong arm around your waist, holding you firmly against her. “Oh no, Darling.” she murmured, her voice dripping with hunger. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Your fingers tightened around her arm, a shaky moan slipping from your lips as her fingers teased over your still-sensitive core, sending shockwaves through you. “Natasha, please..” She tsk’d, nipping at your jaw. “Ah ah, no hiding from me.”

A sharp gasp left you as her fingers moved, slow, torturous, but still so deliberate, stroking exactly where you needed her, where she knew would make you fall apart again. Your body twitched, your thighs shaking, a broken moan spilling from your lips as she curled her fingers just right.

“Still so sensitive..” she murmured, her lips trailing down your neck, whispering sinful promises against your overheated skin. “You’re so perfect like this, you know that?” Her voice was thick, possessive, dripping with pure adoration.

“Whimpering in my arms, squirming, desperate for more, even when your body is already spent..” Her tongue flicked over your pulse, feeling it race beneath her lips. “I could stay here forever, my love. Tasting you. Feeling you. Owning you.”

A deep, broken moan slipped from your lips as your body arched, completely at her mercy. She could feel how close you were again. The way your body tensed, the way your breath hitched, the way your fingers clawed at her arm, as if begging for something more.

And then..She whispered it..The words that sent fire straight through you. “Can I bite you?” You whimpered sharply, your head tipping back against her shoulder, your breath coming in quick, shallow pants. You were too far gone, too wrecked, but she was waiting. She needed your permission. She could hear the hesitation in your breathing, so she waited..

Her pace didn’t slow, if anything, her fingers moved faster, building you up, bringing you right to the edge again, making your body tremble, making your mind flood with nothing but her. You needed it. You needed her. “Y-Yes..!” you gasped, whimpering, clutching her arm desperately. “Please, Nat-“

That was all it took. She struck. Her fangs sank deep, piercing your soft, flushed skin, sending white-hot pleasure exploding through you. A sharp, broken cry left your lips as your entire body arched, your release slamming into you, more intense than anything you had ever felt before.

Natasha groaned loudly against your neck, drinking you in, her fingers still moving, pulling you through it, dragging out every last bit of pleasure until you were shaking, twitching, utterly spent in her arms.

And God..The taste..The way your blood flooded her mouth, mixed with the adrenaline, the ecstasy of your pleasure. It was divine. Natasha moaned deeply, drinking slowly, savoring the warmth, relishing in the way your body still twitched in aftershocks, your whimpers muffled against her arm as you came down from your high.

Finally, finally, she pulled away, her tongue lapping over the puncture marks, sealing them with gentle care. You were limp, your breathing slow, your skin still flushed, but you had never felt safer. Natasha nuzzled against you, pressing soft, reverent kisses to your jaw, to your shoulder, her arms tightening around you as if she never wanted to let go.

“My perfect girl..” she whispered, completely wrecked, her lips brushing over your ear. “I’ll never want anything but this.” You let out a soft, exhausted sigh, melting against her. And in that moment, wrapped in Natasha’s arms, claimed, cherished, utterly loved, you knew. She wasn’t just your vampire. She was yours. Forever.

-

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[wandasaura]

RED WINE SUPERNOVA

summary — when wanda first proposed making you cum in front of her friends, you’d thought she’d been joking, but when maria and carol come over for your annual halloween movie night, you realize she wasn’t at all

warning(s) — established relationship, heavy dom/sub elements, exhibitionism, slight voyeurism, humiliation, degradation, praise kink, teasing, cum tasting, finger sucking, make out session, nipple stimulation/torture, orgasm control/delay, unintentional edging, fingering, clit stimulation, alludes to maria being dommy, carol and maria watch, possessiveness, eventual orgasm, soft aftercare, brief domestic fluff/cuteness, men/minors dni

kinktober

The fabric of your panties had once felt soft against your skin, comfortable and easy as you slid through the house on sock covered feet, preparing for a movie night with your girlfriends and two of their friends. It had become something of a tradition, a soft moment to look forward to in a life overwise filled with chaos and constant movement. Tonight, you’d thought you’d be cuddled up close to Natasha, holding onto Wanda’s hand as you watched Coraline and countless other films that had always inspired spooky feelings in your heart, but when Natasha had steered you away from the wardrobe, declaring that your outfit was enough on its own despite the nakedness of your uncovered stature in frilly panties with a dull pink bow sewn onto the waistband and a lacey top that matched so sweetly, that soft cotton fabric between your legs had very quickly become damp with persistent arousal and anticipation; no longer comfortable as every time you shifted in place, you were reminded of your desperate state and unwavering vulnerability. 

Maria and Carol had been right on time, barging straight into the quaint albeit perfectly cozy apartment that you, Wanda, and Natasha shared whenever they weren’t crashing in safe houses and Shield facilities off the grid. They’d hardly even glanced in your direction as they barrelled through the door, something that was odd and had your belly twisting with wild emotions and sensations, especially when you came to realize why they were acting as if you weren’t there at all. This had been something brought up in passing conversation one night, merely a wild fantasy that Wanda had shared after coming back from a grueling solo mission. You had always known that she was on the kinkier side, especially out of you and Natasha, but hearing about how she wanted to show you off to her friends, wanted to stake her claim with you in front of an audience of your most trusted acquaintances, had you eagerly agreeing to her little fantasy. That’s all that you thought it would be, a fantasy that stayed within the walls of your shared bedroom, but then Natasha brought it up last week, and now here you were, sat on the couch between both of your girlfriends, your naked thighs glimmering beneath the ambient lighting of the television as one of them held your hand, and the other stroked your inner thigh as if you were nothing more than a priceless object to flaunt. 

Your cheeks were heated with flushed humiliation and undeniable arousal, the center of your panties damp and darkened, although thankfully hidden from view yet not ignored entirely. Every few minutes, when you had been led to believe that Natasha’s heavy, possessive, hand wouldn’t rise any further up your thigh, she would stretch her fingers outward and fiddle with the lace edges of your panties, pulling the elastic material away from the crevice of your thigh only to let it snap back into place like a broken record that wouldn’t stop skipping. Wanda squeezed your hand occasionally, reminding you of her steady presence beside you on the couch, but even that did little to quell your racing thoughts as you tracked the way both Carol and Maria traced the outlines of your pebbled nipples through the dainty tank top adorning your torso and upper half. 

After a while, yet only midway through Coraline which nobody was really paying any attention to, Natasha grew bolder in her ministrations with your wanting body, and as a result, the flush plastered across your cheeks and ears became darker with bated arousal and humiliation. That soft, tantalizing touch on the insides of your thighs became curious fingers sweeping through your sodden folds, prodding at your aching clit and pressing against your wanting entrance that begged to suck her fingers in despite your greatest attempts to remain unbothered and unaware. You hadn’t thought it could get any worse, any more humiliating, but just as you got used to Natasha’s cold touch against your hot cunt desperate for relief, she retraced her fingers, instead holding them up to the light for Wanda and her friends to marvel at. 

As she pulled her fingers apart, revealing stringy ropes of warm arousal clinging to her knuckles and the pads of her delicately scarred fingertips, a whine of mortification fell off of your cat clenched tongue and into the air thick with tension and lust, though like before and every minute since both Carol and Maria had stepped inside the apartment, you were ignored entirely by the onlookers who caught a glimpse at your most vulnerable headspace typically reserved for Wanda and Natasha exclusively. “Well would you look at that. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the little slut likes being shown off.” 

A pitiful whine fell off of your lips as Natasha rubbed her fingers together for everyone in the room to see, making an extravagant show of your glistening moisture that dirtied her fingertips. Your face fell into Wanda’s chest on instinct, seeking protection from the dramatic show Natasha was putting on for her own entertainment, however that was hardly allowed, and mere seconds after you settled with your face against the breasts of your younger girlfriend, her fingers were tangling into your hair and pulling you upright, demanding you watch as Natasha unravels your autonomy, reducing you to nothing but a slut for her friends to ogle; and shamefully, it was turning you on more and more. 

A startled gasp fell off of your lips when Maria came closer, leaving Carol behind on the loveseat adjacent from the couch you sat cuddled into, and stalked up to Natasha with slow, calculated strides of maintained authority. She had always radiated a gentle energy, someone that you found comfort and ease being around whenever you visited your girlfriends at whatever Shield base they occupied, but as she stared down at you, traced the evidence of glistening moisture on the insides of your thighs and snickered to herself when she found that telling patch of darkness on the center of your panties, she’d never appeared more dominant, and your heart lurched in your chest at the prospect of misbehaving in her company. 

When her lips wrapped around Natasha’s fingers, cleaning them off without so much as a grimace as she let the taste of your arousal sink into every taste bud on her tongue, a blush so dark it nearly burned your skin crept down your neck and provoked tingles and goosebumps to rise along your spine and in your belly where that coil of anticipation grew bigger and bigger each time Natasha humiliated you further. When Maria moaned softly, only pulling off of Natasha’s fingers because she couldn’t contain the laugh that bubbled over in her chest as you squirmed and whined with impatient humiliation, you nearly melted into the couch entirely, not sure what was worse; being beneath her heavy, pointed stare, or watching as your girlfriends shared your intimate sweetness with their friends. 

“My shy girl. Why are you pretending that you don’t like this, huh? Your pussy’s aching for Natty to touch you, and yet you’re pretending to be my shy girl like you don’t want her to make you cum for Carol and Maria to see.” Wanda coaxed tantalizingly, her fingers ghosting along your chest for the first time that night, taking an interest in your pebbled nipples that pleaded for attention just as Maria sat back on the couch with Carol, being abruptly pulled into a searing kiss that conveyed passion and intense need. 

Between the sharp sensations of Wanda fiddling with your pebbled nipples, pinching and pulling and twisting, your eyes remained locked on Carol and Maria who seemed to be lost in the whirlwind of their passionate makeout session. You hadn’t known that they were an item, wouldn’t have suspected it even if the signs had been laid out in front of you, but they moved together so cohesively, it couldn’t have been the first time they found themselves in this position. It was most definitely the first time you found yourself in this position however, and you couldn’t stop the involuntary whine that clawed up your throat and forced its way out when they finally pulled away, a lust drink smirk on Carol’s lips as she practically undressed you with her eyes. 

“You’ve been holding out on us, Romanoff. I didn’t know your girl was so sweet.” Carol’s lips curved with dominance that hadn’t been traceable when Maria had tangled her long fingers into her short blonde locks and tugged so aggressively you feared Carol may recoil from the kiss in momentary pain, but as she sat on the loveseat that you had spent many nights cuddled up on, she looked absolutely dominating with her icy blue stare and sharp jawline. 

“She’s the sweetest, isn’t she?” Natasha’s eyes glimmered with dominance as she turned her attention to you, fully focusing on the pink hues that formed along your cheekbones and skin, marveling at the glaze of submission that had come across your eyes since she’d first denied you access to the wardrobe in your shared bedroom. “Why don’t we take these off, show Carol and Maria how wet you really are for me, hm?” There wasn’t much of a question in her softly uttered words, but there was enough grace given that you knew you could back out at any moment. You declined that subtly placed offer, though your embarrassment didn’t lighten any. You couldn’t explain the strong feelings turning your blood into butterflies, but despite being utterly humiliated, you were beyond turned on. You wanted Natasha to continue to condescend you, you wanted Carol and Maria to watch as she unraveled your walls and brought you through a glorious episode of bliss and pleasure. You wanted to know that despite sharing the sight of your body with two people that you trust most in Wanda and Natasha’s tight knit circle, that you were truly only theirs to have. 

When your panties came off, you tried not to watch as Natasha playfully flung them across the room in Maria and Carol’s direction, or how the Commander grabbed them without batting an eye and inspected the dark patch adorning the center that had laid so snugly against your weeping entrance. You shuddered in anticipation when Natasha pried your legs open just the slightest bit more, draping one of your naked thighs across her material covered lap, opening you up for eager eyes to search. You whined when her fingers swept through your folds again, although this time, she didn’t spare her touches like she had been. Her fingers fell onto your clit heavily, rubbing rushed tight circles on your pebbled bundle of nerves that pleaded for attention and relief. 

When Carol commented about wanting to taste you herself, Wanda’s ministrations on your nipples seemed to double, fueled by possessiveness that was intimidating and unspeakably arousing, and through a haze of intense pleasure that was sparking through your body at various places, you just barely recall her telling Danvers to remember the agreement at hand. Her possessive touch lit your body up, and before you could comprehend the desperation that was truly turning you into a mindless slut for two of the most powerful and influential people in the world to witness, your hips searched for more from Natasha in desperate twists and pathetic reaches. 

“How long do you think it’ll take me to make the little slut cum?” Natasha wagered, her smirk devious as she stopped rubbing tight circles around your clit without so much as a warning that you were about to lose what you’d been begging for all night, her eyes trained on Carol and Maria, paying no mind to the way you babbled and sobbed for relief, having been seconds away from an orgasm that was now ebbing away into the abyss. Desperately you fought for her attention, arching your hips up against her hand, attempting to gain back even an ounce of the pressure she had been providing, but Wanda’s arms snaked around your waist and pulled you back before you could succeed. 

“A minute.” Carol laughed, her tone painfully condescending as her eyes traced the gleam of arousal that had marked your skin with glistening moisture, your pussy on full display as Natasha unintentionally spread you farther, giving both Danvers and Hill an extraordinary sight of your pulsating clit and weeping hole that was desperate for any ounce of attention. 

“Fifty six seconds, but nobody's counting.” Maria’s response was dry, laced with infectious dominance that was spurring Natasha on to be better, harsher. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when two fingers sunk into your cunt, enveloped by velvety walls that squeezed her knuckles tight. There was no time to grow used to the stretch as she worked you open, but it felt so good you didn’t care. 

Her thumb found your clit again, and relentlessly she worked you back up towards that orgasm you’d been desperately chasing. Wanda’s fingers didn’t stop pulling and twisting at your nipples, but at some point, she’d pulled your top low, trading in thin fabric for warm flesh. You hardly flushed when you realized all of you was now exposed to Carol and Maria, so desperate for an orgasm that you let it fade away entirely. Strained whines and pleads fell off of your lips as Natasha worked you closer and closer to a blissful orgasm embarrassingly quick, but she kissed your insecurities away as she mumbled for you to let go, to let her make it all better. 

“Shh, there we go. There we go, pretty girl. Making such a mess for me. It’s okay.” She coaxed softly, pecking your lips multiple times as she withdrew her fingers, quickly finding a blanket to throw over your body, no longer wanting you visible to her closest friends who seemed to understand, and didn’t comment on her quickness to cover you up. 

“Forty seven seconds. Impressive.” Maria taunted lightly, her smile dazzling as she flashed you the softest look you’d ever seen her give. You blushed, hiding your face in Wanda’s chest as she allowed you to get comfortable, seeking out her tender affection that she would never dream of withholding. “Where are you going?” Maria narrowed her eyes at Natasha when she noticed the redhead itching to rise from the couch, her arms slowly falling off of your still trembling frame as you leaned heavily against Wanda in post-orgasm bliss and hazy submission. 

“To get her a water?.” Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed as she found herself explaining the routine steps to your preferred aftercare scene that she had engraved in her mind like a sacred text since starting her relationship with you, but Maria merely scoffed and stood up herself, tenderly handing your panties back to Wanda who took them appreciatively. 

“I’ll get her some water. You make sure that she’s okay.” Was her affectionately mumbled response. You didn’t really pay any attention to Natasha easing your panties back up your legs, or Wanda softly fixing your top over your breasts, but by time Maria returned with a glass of water, you were dressed and snuggled into Wanda’s lap contently, holding tightly to Natasha’s hand, just barely able to focus on the credits rolling across the screen.  

“Thank you.” You mumbled to Maria when she passed the water off to you, smiling encouragingly before she took a seat next to Carol again, seemingly unphased by what had just happened, although it did ease the knot of anxiety in your belly. Nothing had changed, they didn’t see you any differently, and if anything, these were the best post-scene cuddles that Wanda had ever given, partly because her possessiveness fueled her need to hold you tight and stake her claim despite there being no threat. 

“What do you say we watch Halloween Town?” Carol mused, seemingly just as eager to assure your comfortability as Maria, to which you were beyond grateful for. 

“Twitches. Someone thinks it’s fun to watch witch movies and compare everything about them to me.” Wanda giggled, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head, silently settling the question of which film would be the one that you all agreed to pay attention to. Maria agreed easily, fighting Natasha for the remote and winning, victoriously scrolling through your streaming platform until she found what she desired. 

“I love you.” You mumbled to Wanda, slouching against her chest as your attention drifted between her soft touch and the opening scene beginning to play at a low volume. 

“I love you too, baby. So much more than you’ll ever know.”

[wandaslovey]

ᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ ɪꜱ ɪɴᴇᴠɪᴛᴀʙʟᴇ

: ̗̀➛ dom!wandanat x sub!fem!reader

parts: one || two || three || four || five || six || seven ||

•

summary: desperate times call for desperate measures. after you lose your job and your roommate in the same month, you find yourself scrambling to find a new job to continue paying your bills. you apply for anything—even positions you most definitely are not qualified for. you’re surprised when you get a scheduled interview at the M.R. law. it was easily the most popular, well-known law firm in all of new york city. little did you know that interview would change the course of your life and open up a whole new world you never knew you wanted to experience.

au/background: wandanat who are two pretentious, successful and domineering women in between submissives. you, being the innocent little thing you are, have only heard the term “bdsm” once or twice and never really understood what that world consisted of. however, you’re curious, eager and always open to trying new things. you are somehow, something wandanat have always been looking for…they just didn’t know it.

a/n: i’ve been dying to write a wandanat series for awhile, i just wasn’t sure what i wanted it to be! now i know there are a few very popular wandanat fics out there (which i love), so i hope you all can understand that some themes/attitudes/characterizations may be similar to those other series’s. please note: i’m not purposely trying to copy or replicate anybody else’s work!

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

October 22 - Forced Orgasm

pairing: dom!Natasha x sub!Reader

summary: Natasha forces you to spill your secrets, and your cum.

content warnings: lowkey kidnapping, interrogation, handjob, reader has a penis

word count: 1.1k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

“God, you look pathetic.” 

Rolling your eyes at the words, you glare at Natasha as she circles you. You would speak, but the well-trained spy had gagged you hours ago. Apparently, she’d grown tired of your ‘smart mouth’, so here you were. 

When you’d signed up to work for your boss, you’d never expected to be interrogated by the Black Widow. Evidently, your boss had been running some super illegal underground operation (you truly had no idea what was going on), and you’d just so happened to be in the office when Natasha had broken in to steal some files. 

She also stole you, forcing you into her car after tying your hands up in the name of gaining more information directly from the company’s employees. You wondered if you could sue the Avengers for kidnapping. 

You wouldn’t say you were particularly… unhappy with how the day was going. After all, you’re on your knees with a gag stuck in your mouth, your clothes having been ripped off by the hottest woman you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d gotten hard during the car ride and it still hadn’t gone down, not even after Natasha had secured a spreader bar between your thighs to keep your legs apart and restrained your hands to the wall behind you. 

Dark green eyes lock with yours as Natasha slowly bends down and crutches in front of you. Your chest is heaving slightly, and you can feel yourself twitch as she raises a single eyebrow. 

“What were you doing at work on a Saturday?” Natasha asks, her eyes glancing down at the way your cock jumps to the sound of her raspy voice. 

“Mmmpphh,” you say, your shoulders sagging slightly at the way her smirk widens. You feel so helpless… fuck, your cock throbbed again at that thought. 

Natasha smiles wider, her hands slowly coming up to caress your thighs, her sharp nails digging into your skin. You look down and watch with her as your cock throbs and twitches as she leaves angry red lines on your skin. You can see the swollen, red tip leaking precum as it jerks, and you resist the urge to thrust your hips forward. 

“You like this, don’t you?” she mutters, her smile wide as you nod. A pathetic whimper escapes you, the sound high-pitched as her hands slowly move from your thighs and toward your hips. 

“Will you answer my questions?”

You almost nod, but then your brain starts working. If you answer her questions, she’ll probably just leave you, unsatisfied and rock hard, as soon as she gets what she wants. 

Shaking your head no, you glare at her defiantly. Her brows furrow, those green eyes narrowing dangerously. Her fingers dig into your hips, and you let out a faint whimper at the pain, your hips rutting forward slightly. 

“Fine, let’s see if you can handle a bit of persuasion,” she growls, her hand finally wrapping around your length. 

God, it feels so fucking good. She’s moving her hand slowly, her other reaching for a bottle of oil. 

Wait. Oil?

Natasha flips the lid open, drizzling the warm body oil directly on top of your cock before pumping her hand to evenly distribute it. You let out a moan, your eyes bulging at the sensation. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” she asks, her eyes watching your reactions. You nod eagerly, wanting to thrust your hips, the spreader bar stopping much movement. Her hand moves faster, her grip tightening when she reaches the head of your cock, squeezing it. 

The pressure builds within you, and you’re gasping into the gag as you let out a series of moans. Natasha’s hand doesn’t stop, her fingers wrapped firmly around you as she pushes you towards the brink. 

“Wanna talk now?” she asks, her other hand coming up to tangle with your hair. She wrenches your head up, exposing your neck and forcing eye contact. You shake your head, your breaths shuddering as your chest heaves. 

You’ve never felt this much pleasure before, your cock being expertly handled while you’re unable to do anything about it. After this, you doubt you’ll ever be able to feel true pleasure unless you’re bound and helpless. You can quite literally feel the kink planting itself inside of you, and you let out a pathetic little whimper when her hand moves faster. 

Natasha jerks her thumb over the head of your cock, the body oil and your precum mixing together as you moan and hold back a sob. You’re so fucking sensitive. 

“You don’t wanna cooperate? Fine,” Natasha spits, her hand moving even faster as she squeezes hard. You nearly cum right then and there, but her other hand reaches down and grabs your ball, holding them tightly in her hand and preventing you from orgasming. “Let's see if I can break your will.”

You shake your head, feeling your muscles clench desperately. You hold back your orgasm, not wanting the fun to end. Your eyes water slightly, the pleasure overwhelming as her hand pumps your cock faster. 

“You’re going to cum whether you want to or not,” Natasha growls, her hand moving faster. You groan, and she bites into your neck before murmuring, “Don’t hold back.”

Her fingers release your balls, and they tighten up immediately. You can feel the waves of pleasure becoming all-consuming, the need to cum taking over your brain. Her hand squeezes your cock as she pumps, pleasure emanating from your cock as you feel your orgasm take over. 

Her thumb swipes over the head of your cock, and you explode, spurts of cum covering her hand and part of her thighs. You throw your head back as much as your restraints will allow, your muscles flexing as you moan. The pleasure is all-consuming, her hand working you through your orgasm as you groan and shudder, your arms painfully pulling at your restraints as you gasp. 

Your cock starts to go limp, her fingers squeezing out the last bits of cum as you shudder. She continues to slowly jerk your cock, her movement lazy as she watches you. 

“Will you tell me what you know?”

You nod, your eyes glazed as your body trembles and protests against more pleasure. The traitorous cock between your legs twitches again, already hardening under her touch. 

Natasha rips your gag off, her eyes lighting up as she takes in your tired form. She’s finally broken you down, and she can’t wait for you to spill all of your secrets. Her fingers curl under your chin, forcing you to look at her as you finally speak. 

You smile. 

“I’m just the intern.”

[scarletwidowqueen]

Wanda and Natasha

[blue-willow-tree]

Can't stop thinking of Natasha smirking at Wanda when the waiter gives her the bill.

"Looks like everyone knows I'm the one in charge" Natasha teases, while Wanda is silently amused. You watch, knowing this simply cannot end well.

3 hours later, Natty has her ass up and knees trembling while Wanda is leaning over behind her, whispering in her ear with a massive grin. "Still think you're in charge baby?"

You're in awe of how sweet and subby Natasha truly is, and can't help but shove her pretty face between your legs <33

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Bound by Desire

If they call it sin how come she loves me like a saint? (2)

Dom!Natasha x switch!Wanda x subby!brat!fem!reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: Natasha and Wanda have been in a happy and healthy BDSM relationship for years, but have been looking for a third for Wanda's sake. When they meet you, they might have gotten more than they bargained for.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Nat=39, Wanda=35, Reader=22, BDSM relationship, dom!nat, switch!Wanda, sub!reader, Daddy!nat, Mommy!Wanda, strap use(r receiving), bondage (more will be added as things occur)

Authors Note: My first smut bit in a long time. Felt good to write it again, but I think a lot of this is gonna be more fluffy/hurt/comfort....maybe some angst from here for a bit.

You stared down at all the papers, books, and figures sitting on the counter. The longer you looked the more everything felt like it wasn't making sense anymore. You'd been in the kitchen all morning studying for midterms. Your eyes were starting to hurt as you pushed your palms into your eye sockets.

You barely heard Natasha until she was almost to the kitchen. Turning slightly to look at her. It was Saturday so the redhead was in sweatpants and a tank top yet somehow she still managed to make your core throb as your eyes rake over her biceps.

“Still studying Pchelka?” Her husky voice tickles your ears.

“I don't know if you could call this studying anymore. The more I look the less sense everything is making right now.” As you sink against the chair you hear her saunter over.

Her arms wrap around your shoulders, her chin resting on top of your head. Your cheeks flush as you feel her tits press against your back.

She looks over your work. Pointing out little things, her slender fingers captivating your attention. Her words become distant and yet somehow wrapping you up, putting you in that fuzzy headspace you've started becoming accustomed to.

She moves; her face coming in your peripheral. You feel a little too hazy right now to focus on anything except her fingers.

“Oh puppy, was that all it took today?” Natasha's voice drops making you fall ever so further.

Your hands are already reaching for hers. No resistance is met as you pick her hand up and bring her finger to your mouth. “Please Daddy? Need you…” You mumble around her fingers.

You weren't sure how she did it, but she was carrying you down to the bedroom, you could feel the bulge of Natasha's strap through her sweats and you instinctively rolled your hips.

She sets you onto the floor when you get to the bedroom. The simple command, “Strip.” Being all you needed. Your clothes came off into neat piles. It was a rule of Natasha's that if she ever asked for you to strip it was to be done quickly, but neatly.

When you looked up she was standing in just her boxer briefs, her bulge on display and tits perfectly staring you down.

She reached out, taking your little pile and set them on the dresser. “On the bed puppy.”

You eagerly got up, sitting pretty for her. It hadn't been too long, only a few months you'd been doing this, though it was long enough to know how Natasha wanted you.

She smiled at your eagerness as she made her way to you. Slowly making her way in front of you. Once she's in front of you, you can't help but smile. Eyes still blown like a deer in headlights and you might as well be with Nat.

She cups your cheeks gently, a soft smile on her face as she pulls you in and kisses you. Your hands find her chest as you melt against her.

She pulls back, moving you onto your back as she gets between your legs. You can feel her hot breath on your clit before her warm tongue moves through your folds. Her lips closing around your clit to tease at it.

Your center is completely soaked and glistening in the light of the midday sun coming through the skylights and showing off the slick that's made its way to your thighs. Soft moans and whimpers are falling from your lips. One of your hands tangling in her hair and the other fitting at the silk sheets beneath you.

Natasha moans into you, sending a shiver through you. Your breathing picked up as she wrapped an arm around your waist. She was holding you there as she started to bring you to that edge you wanted to fall over.

You were too focused on her tongue when you felt her push two fingers into you and now you knew the real reason she was holding you there. Her fingers and tongue moved in tandum.

“Fuck…ah…Daddy! Daddy can I cum? Please?” You pleaded with her. Eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“Go on puppy. Cum.” Her husky voice is truly what sent you over the edge. The waves of pleasure wash over you.

Before you could even recover from the first Natasha is pushing her strap past your folds and stretching you out. A loud moan coming out of you as you grip onto her biceps as she puts you in a mating press.

She looks down at you, your eyes completely black from how blown they are. “You needed this so badly didn't you? Just a bitch in heat who needed to be fucked brainless by Daddy?” Her voice was deeper and more husky than even a few moments ago.

“Yes! Yes Daddy! can I cum? M'please Daddy!”

“That's it pup. Go ahead, mmm fuck…go ahead.” You feel apart beneath her. Tightening around her as you gushed over her cock and stomach.

Natasha groans as you feel her release into you, her cum filled strap filling you up. A long satisfied moan coming from you as your back arched. Your eyes closing as she slowly pulls out. She bites her lip admiring her work as she watches you drip for a moment before going to grab a towel to clean you up along with some other aftercare items.

°○°○°○°○°

When Wanda came home the house was quiet. She had called out for both of you, but got no response. She furrowed her brow as she slipped her heels off from the day. Taking notice that all shoes were accounted for.

As she walked further into the house she took notice of all your notes spread across the kitchen island. A small smile spreads across her face at how hard you always work. Though still no sign of you or her wife.

She headed up the stairs after not finding you two anywhere downstairs. Checking both offices first and then heading to the bedroom. That's where she found you two.

You were half on top of Natasha. Leg and arm thrown over her. Your legs tangled together. She had managed to get you both in tank tops. Her back in her boxer briefs and you in your panties.

Wanda smiles down at the two of you, sinking down onto the bed. Natasha being a light sleeper, opened her eyes. Looking over to see her wife made her smile.

“Привет, любовь всей моей жизни.” (Hello love of my life) she whispered as Wanda leaned in for a kiss.

“Вам обоим было весело?” (Did you two have fun?) Wanda whispered against her wife's lips before pulling back, looking down at your sleeping form and pushing some hair out of your face. Making you sturdy slightly, but settle back in.

“She needed a break from studying.” Natasha smiled down at you. “Needed Daddy's help emptying that pretty head of hers.”

Wanda gently ran her fingers through your hair, scratching just behind your ear as a content smile spread across your face in your sleep.

“She's so special Tasha…I don't think she realizes the extent that we actually feel for her.” Wanda's voice was soft as Natasha rubbed her wife's back.

“She will soon, moya lyubov.” The two women smiled at each other before Nat pulled Wanda against her to join in the cuddles.

Slowly the sun fell towards the horizon and sure there was more studying to do, dinner to be made, and documents to look over, but for right now none of you wanted this perfect moment to end.

Taglist:

@godhatesgoodgirls

@itsalwaysskorpioszn

@boredandneedfanfics

@siljuskaz

@noturlondonboy

@tobiaslut

@alexawynters

[marvelnatr]

Training

Warnings: Daddy!Nat, Sub!reader, humiliation, brat!tamer Nat, impact play, mocking, strap on, cock warming, breeding kink, cum filled strap, pussy spanking, spanking, bratting, oral fixation, office setting.

Summary: you continue to fail to complete your mission reports correctly. Fury has tried multiple times to get the teammates to teach you how to complete them and you cannot follow simple orders, he’s told that during your teachings you have a cocky attitude. So he places you in an office with Nat till you can get your act together.

Feel free to join my marvel discord geared to this kind of writing! Its in my pinned master list. If the link doesn’t work let me know darlings. I don’t bite <3

Your POV:

Walking into the office Natasha looked up at me, her eyebrow cocking as she stayed leaned over her desk “excuse you?” I watched her slightly confused “what? I’m supposed to be here at nine am and its nine ten” Natasha nodded “yes you’re late. But also have some manners and knock on my office door before you come in” I nodded a bit with an eye roll and started to cross the threshold, Natashas voice stopped me in my tracks “so turn around and try again”. Looking up at her I nodded and turned around, closing the door and knocking again. Natasha gently opened the door “come in”. Nodding I walked in the door and looked at Natasha, she pointed to the chair near her desk “sit” rolling my eyes again I sat down. I’m not a fucking dog. I felt Nats eyes on me, the door clicked shut and the sound of her heels getting closer to my chair till I felt her brush by me as she sat down “so you’ve been having some problems with your mission reports?” I shook my head “they’re fine. Fury is just being picky” Natasha looked up at me “his name to you is Director, I know for a fucking fact you and him are not on first name basis. Do I make myself clear?” Swallowing a little I nodded as Nat watched me “no, you’re going to give me a verbal confirmation” watching her I sat forward and spoke, allowing my attitude to lace my voice “okay”, Natasha’s eyes found mine, the second we made eye contact I had realized I may have sounded a little too bold. Natasha calmly spoke “okay what?” I watched her, backing down a little “o-okay yes ma’am”. I received a simple nod from her and sat there in silence while she finished up her work.

After fifteen minutes I looked at her “okay what the fuck am I doing here? Cause if I’m just gonna sit here I’m leaving” Natasha looked at me “you will be patient Y/N” pouting I sat back and watched her work. This went on for around another thirty minutes before she looked at me “okay, what was the last mission you did” I looked at her and sat up “fucking finally” shooting a glare at me she growled a little “watch your fucking mouth, I am here to help you, so drop the fucking attitude” ignoring her statement I pulled out my computer and pulled up the mission report. I felt her lean over my shoulder as she looked at my report and scoffed “no wonder fury wont take this, its messy” I looked at her “excuse you?” Natasha cocked her eyebrow at me “I didn’t stutter did I?” Shutting up a little I rolled my eyes and thought of a quick snarky comeback “so what’s wrong with it then if you’re so fucking smart” I guess that was it. That’s what snapped her. Within seconds I was turned and facing her, her green eyes piercing into mine

Natasha’s POV:

Wrapping my hand around her throat Y/N left out a little gasp, her eyes widening as her legs squeezed together. I laughed a little and mocked “oh, I see, you just needed to be choked out a little didn’t you?” Y/N’s knuckles turned white as she squirmed “n-no” I laughed at her, tutting “oh detka, poor little thing. How I’d love to fuck you but you need an attitude adjustment” I let go of her neck with a little push and looked at her “rewrite it. Again. Stop beating around the bush and write it” Y/N pouted “b-but I don’t know how” I grabbed her jaw and made her look at me “you’re a smart little girl, you’ll figure it out” a pout formed on her lips as she looked at her computer and started typing. Nodding I sat back down at my desk. Y/N’s legs were squeezed shut as she typed. She would look up at me on occasion, her eyes begged me to fuck her as her pupils were blown with lust. Smirking at her I shook my head “focus on your work darling”

Y/N continued with her work. I decided it was time to fuck around with her a little, my fingers made their way to my button up shirt, slowly undoing the first three buttons to reveal my cleavage. Y/N’s eyes had been trained on my chest for a solid two minutes now. I laughed a little “what’s got you distracted darling?” Y/N swallowed hard and shook her head “nothing”. I slowly got up and leaned over the desk, my chest close to her face “try again detka” Y/N looked up at me, her eyes filled with anticipation as I leaned over her. The younger woman shakily inhaled and swallowed thick, as he spoke weakly “n-nothing miss” nodding I turned her computer to me “lets see how much progress you’ve made shall we love”. Looking over her work I tutted, she really hasn’t changed a thing. She’s made advances but hasn’t done much. I looked at her “this really isn’t any better dorogoy, are you really that dumb that you can’t put together a simple report? I know you’re so much smarter then this” a whine fell from her lips “I don’t get it, this is such bullshit!” Cocking my eyebrow at her I warned her “watch your mouth” Y/N looked at me with that same bratty look “fucking make me” laughing I leaned in closer “I will”. Her eyes widened as I sat down in my chair and patted my lap “come bring your computer and sit” Y/N rolled her eyes “no, I’m not a fucking child” I chuckled “you sure are acting like one” she quickly shot me a look and stupidly defended herself “I am not!” I scoffed at her “you are, just like a spoiled fucking brat if you ask me” huffing Y/N sat back in her chair, folding her arms and turning away from me just as a pouting child would. I laughed and mumbled “my point proven”

After about fifteen minutes she grumbled “I would like to leave now” I nodded while typing “you can after you finish your report” Y/N groaned “but I don’t fucking know what to do to fix it!” Looking over at her I spoke calmly, probably pissing her off even more “I offered to help you darling, and you wouldn’t take it. But the offer is still there. When you can drop your ego and come and sit in my lap like a good girl I can help you” she shook her head and spat “in your fucking dreams” I laughed and nodded “your choice then darling”

After a few more minutes she realized I wasn’t giving in. I heard her movements to grab her computer and find her way over to me. Looking over at her I saw her eyes watching my lap. Leaning back I gave her room to sit down, Y/N shuffled over to me pouting as I took her computer from her and allowed her to sit in my lap. Tucking some hair behind her ear I whispered “this isn’t so bad is it?” Shifting to get comfy she grumbled, her eyebrows furrowed in frustration “this sucks” I laughed a little and held her waist “don’t hurt my feelings now darling. Stop pretending you don’t like it”. A red tint fell over her cheeks as she cuddled into me and I smiled “that’s a good girl. Now, look at your screen”. I adjusted Y/N so she could see her screen and her eyes widened at me, I knew it was only time before she felt my strap in my pants, I laughed a little and mocked in her ear “so distracted darling, are you okay?”. A blush tinted her cheeks red as she nodded “y-yes da- ma’am”, I smirked “oh no baby say what you were gonna say”. Y/N squirmed in my lap as she mumbled, I held her hips and stilled her movements “speak up detka”. She pushed her head into my chest “y-yes d-daddy”. I groaned a little and held her hips down “such a good girl, there we go, finally learning your place”, the girl shot a glare at me and I smacked her thigh “nuh uh little girl, knock it off”, her eyes rolled as she spat “fucking make me”.

My hand quickly wrapped around her throat as I stood her up, quickly laying her flat over my desk then landing a harsh smack to her ass “that’s it, enough of the attitude”, Y/N gasped and moaned a little. Chuckling I tutted “such a fucking slut, is this what you want? You want me to spank you?” I spanked her again and stuck my fingers in her mouth “you just want to get punished thats all, want me to make you my little bitch”. I continued to land harsh spanks to her ass, the crimson red color was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. You could see the slight outlines of my rings from the impact on her sore ass. Y/N was whimpering and crying a little, drooling all over my desk. I laughed “awww my poor little girl, you can give but you cant take? But you look so pretty for me. You ass all red while you make a mess all over my desk. Those pretty little tears don’t mean shit to me princess”

I watched as she squirmed, an unmistakable wet patch forming on her panties. Kicking her legs apart I gently pushed my palm on her cunt “mmmm so wet for me babygirl” Y/N moaned and whined, her legs closing around my hands. I smacked her cunt and looked up at her “you do not close your legs when I touch you, do you understand little girl?” She nodded and moaned “y-yes daddy” pushing my hand against her cunt I spoke again “I said do you understand?”, moaning a bit louder she fixed her sentence “y-yes daddy I understand” smirking I whispered in her ear “panties off and lay on the couch”. Y/N scrambled to the couch taking off her panties. I locked the office door and headed over to her. I rubbed her thighs gently “open your legs detka”, her legs quickly fell open and I groaned “you’re fucking soaked babygirl“ a red tint formed on her cheeks as I trailed my finger along her cunt “so you can follow orders, shocking”. Y/N snapped her legs shut “oh fuck off”. I cocked my eyebrow at her lowering my voice to a growl “what did you just say to me Y/N?”, her eyes went wide as her face turned white. Fear and anticipation flooded her eyes as I tutted “what am I going to do with you huh little girl?” I watched as she swallowed thick, standing up I leaned over her and grabbed her neck “lets see…I could edge you…or I could spank your poor little cunt….and I could just completely leave you without touching you” Y/N quickly protested to my last suggestion, a pleading whine falling from her lips “no daddy please! Please don’t leave me like this!”. I laughed at her “and what makes you think you’re in any position to tell me what to do with you darling? Where on earth did you get that thought?”

Dead silence fell over the room. Y/N’s pupils blown with lust and fear as she squirmed. I chuckled at her squeezing her neck tighter and pulling her closer to my face “come on slut speak up”, the younger woman gasped and rambled out “I-I dont! y-you’re in charge daddy”. Smiling I nodded “that’s right detka, daddy is is charge. Here’s what’s gonna happen” I trailed my hand down to her cunt as I spoke, allowing my accent to lace my voice a little more “you’re going to lay here and hold yourself open while daddy spanks this pretty little cunt five times for your misconduct. Do I make myself clear?” Y/N moaned and nodded “y-yes daddy you made yourself clear”

Y/N spread herself open, I smirked at her “so wet”, leaning down I hovered my face just above her cunt, my breath falling over her cunt making her twitch as I smiled “oh this is gonna be so much fucking fun” pushing my palm onto her heated core I kissed her gently then landed a semi harsh smack. Y/N yelped and moaned as I gently rubbed “you know what to do darling”. The girl swallowed thick, her chest rising and falling as she attempted to catch her breath “o-one thank you daddy”. Smiling I nodded and spanked her pussy again. I received the same reaction as the last. Y/N jolting slightly at the impact on her already swollen cunt from being so needy. I looked in her eyes as she counted again “two t-thank you daddy”. Nodding I finished the next three. Rubbing her pussy gently I groaned “so red and puffy now darling, you look so pretty like this” a blush fell over her cheeks and I chuckled “so shy, why did I punish you baby?” Y/N whispered gently “b-because I closed my legs while you were touching me” I nodded and rubbed “and is that polite?”, blushing further she shook her head “no daddy”. I smiled and kissed her knee “good girl. Now, you need to finish your report”. Immediately she whined “I don’t wanna!” I folded my arms “tell you what, you do the report and you get to cockwarm daddy as you work” Y/N bit her lip eagerly nodding “deal!”

Laughing I walked over to the desk and sat down. Y/N watched me as she rubbed her legs together, I patted my lap “come on darling, you’re so soaked you’ll be just fine”. She turned beet red as she straddled me and sunk gently down on my strap. Her cunt swallowing every inch of the thick toy as her mouth fell open in a silent moan. It was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen and I couldn’t wait to breed her. To claim her and make her mine. I rested my hands on her hips and whispered praises “come on babygirl, just a little more. You can take it. I know you can” her eyes watched mine as she whimpered “you’re so big daddy, it wont fit” I laughed a little and rubbed her waist “oh darling. It’ll fit, daddy will help you”. She nodded as I lightly fucked up into her. My entire length buried into her cervix as she moaned “f-fucking hell” rubbing her hips gently I praised “thats it, such a good girl, you’ve done so well for me baby” she smiled and I patted her cheek “now get to work”

Y/N worked on her report as I looked over a file. Every so often I would check on her to see her progress. I could feel her arousal coating my thighs. The heat radiating off her core. Sometimes she would shift and moan from the sensation of the strap moving inside her. After thirty minutes she had finally finished. I put my file down and leaned forward, moving in her again. Y/N moaned as I rubbed her thigh to calm her and read over her report. I smiled and gripped her thigh a little “thats more like it baby, you do know what to do you just wanted to cookie cut it” Y/N pouted and bratted a little “did not!”. Quickly I smacked her thigh “no ma’am, no more of that” the girl whimpered “s-sorry daddy”. My hips involuntary bucked up, causing me to fuck into her. It was a pure reaction to the honorific falling from her lips. I received a moan from her in return, groaning I whispered in her ear “I could listen to those pretty little sounds all day” Y/N whimpered “please fuck me daddy, I-I can’t wait anymore”

Quickly picking her up I brought her over to the couch, my strap staying buried in her the entire time. I rested her down on the couch, her back hitting the leather cushions. I moan fell from her lips as my cock moved inside of her “oh baby be a good girl and let daddy fuck you hm? I know you’ve been craving this from the second you looked at me”. Y/N whimpered and nodded as I started fucking into her “that’s it, good girl detka”. Quickly grabbing a hold of the leather she moaned “f-fucking hell daddy you’re so big” I laughed a little and kept fucking her “I know darling”. Y/N’s head threw back as her eyes closed, I slapped her tit “ah ah, no little girl, you look daddy in the eyes while she’s fucking you. I want to memorize exactly what you look like when you’re falling apart under me”

Y/N’s eyes shot open again as she watched me, I nodded and slipped my fingers into her mouth, lightly making her gag which in turn made her clench around my strap. She quickly got the understanding to suck and begun swirling her tongue around my fingers. My digits muffling her moans as her teary eyes watched me. I smiled and mocked her “look at you, drooling all over yourself as I fuck your tight little pussy. You look fucking pathetic darling. I’m glad you’re found a better use for that pretty mouth of yours rather than bratting”. At this point she was too busy to complain, to dumb fucked out to argue. Fucking into her harder I groaned “fuck pup you look so pretty like this”. She moaned loud and bucked her hips, I cocked my eyebrow at her “you like that one huh? You want daddy to breed this sweet little pussy? To claim you?”. A babbled yes fell from her mouth around my fingers. I smirked and fucked into her harder “fuck thats my good girl”

Y/N’s legs started to shake, I took my fingers out of her mouth “you ask for permission to cum detka” her moans grew louder “p-please daddy please can I cum?” I groaned and nodded “fuck babygirl cum for me, gonna fill you up, make my cum drip from that pretty little cunt”. I gripped her legs and spread them wider as she came. Fully bottoming out inside her I came with her. Filling her cunt as she screamed a little “h-holy fucking shit daddy!” I laughed as I kissed her cheek “such a good girl for me, now everyone in the office knows who’s screwing you”, Y/N’s face tinted red as I stroked her cheek “it’s okay darling, you’re mine now”

As her breathing slowed I gently pulled out, some of the cum dripping from her cunt as it spilled on the couch. Chuckling I rubbed her thighs “such a messy girl”. I went into my private bathroom and wet a washcloth, coming back I kissed her inner thigh “may I dove?”. Y/N nodded all floaty, I melted at her relaxed face and fucked out body. While I cleaned her up I spoke “no more of the bratty attitude okay baby?” Y/N nodded and whispered “okay daddy”. I smiled softly at her and gently put her panties back on and grabbed one of my blankets from my storage ottoman, wrapping her up in it as I picked her up and held her in my arms “that’s my good girl, you can rest now darling”

Y/N cuddled into my neck and closed her eyes. While she dozed off I rubbed some cream on her ass, admiring the indentation of my rings on her red flesh for a few seconds. Kissing her head I sat down and continued to do some of my work, doing my best not to wake the sleeping angel in my lap.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Kinkmas (2)- Naughty Or Nice?

Wanda X Natasha X Reader 18+

Summary-  Whilst being blindfolded and tied up, your girlfriends ask you whether you think you deserve to be on the naughty list. Naively, you say no, only to fall into their trap...

Word Count- 4K

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Smut, Threesome, Dom WandaNat/Sub Reader, Blindfolds, Restraints, Safe words, Choking, Punishments, Edging, Orgasm Delay, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Degrading, Oral Sex, Strap-Ons, Begging, Praise Kink, Brief Fluff

Kinkmas Masterlist

Darkness surrounded your vision as you knelt on the bed, a black silk tie wrapped securely around your eyes and a red one wrapped around your wrists, binding them together behind your back. You had been left to wait on the bed for your girlfriends to return, the few minutes feeling like hours as your knees pressed into the soft mattress under you, your chest rising and falling with laboured breaths as you tried to control your excitement and anticipation, ears intensely listening out for any sign of them.

With how long they took, arousal pooled between your legs, thighs slick with wetness as you fantasised about what they would do to you, what you wanted them to do to you all night long.

You imagined their fingers, their mouths, fuck even their straps filling you up in multiple positions, hands roaming your skin while filthy words gracefully spilled from their lips, the thought causing you to squeeze your legs together to help alleviate the intolerable heat in your lower abdomen.

The feeling of the bed dipping from both sides surprised you, too lost in your lustful thoughts to hear them approaching, your head naturally turning towards where the noises were coming from. A hand placed itself against your jaw, fingers splayed across the underside of it, guiding your face forwards as a body pressed into your back, your breath hitching at the feeling of bare skin pressing against yours, the sensation engraved into your mind as their touch sent butterflies swarming throughout you.

The fingers at your face softly caressed your skin as your lips parted to let out a shaky breath, the two women smirking at your submissive form all tied up for them to play with.

"Hey Detka," Wanda softly murmurs out, her thumbs moving to brush over your cheek, her eyes raking over your bare body, her smirk growing a little at the sight of your legs pressed tightly together, chest rising and falling in an uneven rhythm. "Colour?" she asks, letting her thumb move to brush over your lip, dragging your bottom one down before releasing it, Natasha moving her hands to glide around your body, snaking around your lower abdomen and pulling you slightly closer to her body, her hot breath tickling the side of your neck as her lips ghost your skin.

"Green," you sigh out in a barely audible whisper, scared to speak any louder as your heart drums against your chest, waiting for them to touch you.

"Good girl," Natasha praises in a sultry tone, a small affected noise escaping you as you feel her hands slide up your body, teasingly and purposely not reaching high enough to cup your breasts before moving down to your thighs, her hands resting on them as her mouth moves to your ear, teeth nibbling on your earlobe momentarily, a soft sigh leaving her lips to tease you further. "Have you been naughty or nice recently, Krasotka?" she asks with a hint of playfulness to her tone, her emerald eyes meeting the darkening green opposite her as Wanda watches amused at how sensitive to her touch you already seem to be, breath hitching when the witch's hand travels lower, resting on the base of your neck and keeping you facing forwards.

Wanda notices the small smile that plays on your lips at Natasha's festive words, entertained and excited at her sexual undertone to it as you carefully choose your answer.

"Nice," you whisper out, a gasp leaving you at the warm feeling of Natasha's mouth placing a lewd kiss to your neck and Wanda's hand applying a little more pressure to your neck.

"Speak up Detka," Wanda reminds you, knowing exactly what you said and wanting you to fall for the trap.

"Nice," you repeat a little louder, "I've been good," you add, tilting your head marginally to the side to accommodate more of Natasha's arousing kisses, the feeling of her tongue swiping over your skin addictive, her teeth occasionally grazing you making your thighs press harder against each other.

At your answer, you miss the way both of their smirks turn predatory, dominance swirling in their eyes as Wanda merely bites her lip in excitement. Oh they were going to ruin you.

"Is that so Detka?" Wanda purrs out, her tone containing hints of danger as arousal floods through you, the soft tone from early gone as power radiates off of her. "I'm not sure that's true," she says, prompting you to think again about your answer, the recent events flickering through your mind.

Fuck.

Stark's Christmas Party.

"That's it," Wanda mutters, hearing your thoughts. "Stark's Party."

"I-"

"Apologies aren't going to get you anywhere Krasotka," Natasha husks out, using her hands to part your thighs, fingers teasingly stroking the skin of your inner thighs, feeling your arousal that's coated them. "You wanted a reaction out of us, acting like such a brat, but we didn't give you one, did we?"

"No," you say, voice wavering as all you can focus on is her hands so close to where you desperately need her, body aching for their touch, yearning for pleasure to course through you.

"What did we do instead?" Wanda asks, relishing in your nervous but aroused form, entranced by the way your body practically buzzes with anticipation.

Your mind flickers back to the night, remembering how you tried your best to get a reaction out of them by disobeying a few of their rules for the night, purposely pushing their buttons, wanting them to snap and fuck you roughly, make you scream their names all night long and show you that you belonged to them. Instead, they were soft with you, they gave you everything you wanted and didn't once tease or edge you, your mind now only realising it was a trick to make you think you had gotten away with it without punishment.

"You... You gave me everything I wanted, everything I asked for," you say, both of them smiling as they sense your moment of realisation, a low chuckle escaping Natasha.

"That's right," she murmurs, pressing one last kiss to your neck before replacing Wanda's hand at your throat, turning your head so that your lips were millimetres away from hers, making you want to chase them. "Now, I think Wanda and I are owed a punishment, don't you?"

You nod in response, not sure you could form words right now as you could imagine her smug smile and Wanda's eyes watching you attentively, admiring your reaction to Natasha's words.

"Words Detka," Wanda says, replacing Natasha's hands between your legs, nails scratching your skin softly, leaving faint red marks in their trails.

"Yes, I deserve to be punished," you're tone nothing but submissive, laced with desperation as your mind fogged with delirium at every scorching touch.

"Good girl," Wanda whispers, Natasha's lips brushing your own, a whimper leaving you as you couldn't stand anymore teasing, your body needing them to touch you. "Don't even think about coming until we say so," her accent wrapping around her words sultrily, adding a low rasp that has you whining in response, the redhead's lips claiming yours to silence you.

Natasha's mouth was warm, wet and addictive, her lips perfectly moving against yours in a lewd and sinful manner, stealing your breath away as her tongue slid into your mouth, effortlessly dominating the kiss. While your lips messily met the redhead's over and over again, Wanda moved her fingers to meet your dripping core, gently sliding the tip of her digits over your sensitive folds, a moan escaping you that was swallowed by the redhead's relentless mouth.

"Spread your legs for Wanda," Natasha pants against your lips, one hand resting on your neck, the other sliding down and patting your thigh, motioning for you to separate them further.

"Wider," Wanda encourages, a low curse leaving you as Natasha's hand ventures back up your body, cupping your breast firmly, earning a groan in response while Wanda drags the pad of her finger up your core to circle your clit at a torturous pace, her hand grabbing your chin and directing you away from Natasha's lips to her own.

Her kisses are sensual and soft as sighs escape her and you, her finger gliding back down your wet sex to your entrance, sliding her finger in effortlessly to cause a pleasurable buzz to flow throughout your body.

"Fuck," you moan against her lips, Wanda swallowing each and every sound out of you, her kisses turning hungry as your hips rocked against her hand, hands forming fists behind your back. "Please," you whimper as her touch wasn't enough and she knew that, Wanda continuing to slowly thrust her finger in and out of your soaking cunt, curling it at your sweet spot to hear you groan desperately into her mouth, her eyes meeting Natasha's who was currently marking your neck.

The redhead's hands continued to tease your chest, pinching and pulling on your nipples to have your back arch closer into Wanda's body, the witch's free hand moving to slide across your cheek, fingers tangling in your hair, keeping your head in place as your hips rolled against her, struggling to kiss her back at the way your head was spinning.

"Please," Wanda mocks, tone condescending and sending a flood of arousal through you, a pathetic whimper escaping you as her fingers tighten in your locks briefly. "So desperate... You're just a slut for us to ruin, aren't you?"

"Yes," you sigh out immediately, her sliding another figure into you, stretching out beautifully while Natasha bites down softly on your neck, ensuring you knew you were theirs. "Your slut," you pant out, trying to chase Wanda's lips as she pulled back, admiring the scene of you and Natasha in front of her.

"Ours," Natasha murmurs against your skin, Wanda smirking at the redhead who moves her kisses up along your neck, then along your jaw till her mouth reaches your ear, letting out a small moan at the way you whine.

You wish you could see the state of yourself right now, body marked by the redhead's mouth, hips rocking unabashedly against Wanda's hand as you chase your release, the muscles in her forearm flexing slightly as she fingers you expertly, giving you enough to have you on edge but not enough to fall over and crash into you release.

"Wanda," you moan out and she knows just by your tone what you're asking for, the heat in your lower abdomen unbearable as her fingers curl inside you, sparking pleasure and euphoria as you desperately need more to come all over her hand.

Speeding up her actions a little, you were naïve enough to think she had taken mercy on you, giving you that little bit more that you craved as your mouth parted, unable to control the string of moans escaping you at the feeling of teetering on the edge.

"Shit, Just like that, Plea-No, no, please," your sighs of pleasure turn to begging as her fingers slide out of you, hips bucking against the air as she edges you, a cruel but loving smile on her face as your hands struggle behind your back, wanting to reach out to her body and pull her back.

"That's one," Natasha whispers into your ear, a displeased noise leaving you as you lean back against her body, frustration flowing through you at being denied. Her fingers then move to your hands, untying the red silk binding your wrists, her fingers deftly massaging where the tie was before instructing you. "Hands and knees Krasotka," she murmurs before kissing your cheek, Wanda guiding you into position as you still couldn't see, her hands guiding you to settle in a position where you could eat her out while Natasha was behind you, the spy currently putting on the harness, ready to fill you up.

Fingers threaded through your hair as your arms locked around Wanda's thighs, her hands guiding you closer to her core, not letting you please her yet, too busy admiring the sight of you obediently letting them use you.

"Fuck Detka," Wanda moans when she finally lets you swipe your tongue through her dripping folds, a moan escaping you at her heavenly taste. Her hips immediately bucked up, teasing you having turned her on immensely, arousal coating your mouth as you kissed her wet core repeatedly, addicted and starved of her. The sinful noises leaving her lips only fuelled your desire to please her and taste her come dripping onto your tongue.

A broken moan escaped you when you felt Natasha drag the tip of the strap on across your folds, teasing your entrance as she slowly thrusted it in, letting you adjust to the large toy.

"Come on Detka, you can do better than this," Wanda teases you as your mouth rests at her inner thigh, hot breath fanning across her skin as you try to function with the feeling of Natasha slowly pulling the toy out and thrusting back in, nothing but pleasure filling your mind.

"Keep going Krasotka," Natasha reminds you as your mouth returns to Wanda, her head lolling back against the mattress, showing off her sharp jawline to Natasha as she picks up the pace of her hips, snapping the toy into you and revelling in the moans leaving you both.

"Just like that, good girl," Wanda praises, fingers guiding your head to where she wants you as your tongue swipes over her clit, swirling over it in a way that causes her back to arch off the bed, pleasure and arousal building between her thighs. Her words encourage you, mouth wrapping softly around her sensitive sex and sucking, her hips bucking against your face as a guttural noise leaves her, a similar one leaving you as Natasha's hands move to grip your hips, her thrusts more powerful as she pounds the toy into you.

"Nat," you pant out against Wanda's core, the witch groaning at the sound of you moaning the other woman's name while between her legs, her hips grinding against your tongue as you flatten it for her, too busy focussing on the toy being buried deep inside you.

"You can take it," the redhead pants, watching as your greedy cunt swallows the toy up, your arousal glistening in the dim light of the room, a loud moan from Wanda gaining the redhead's attention.

Her free hand moves to her chest, hips fucking your face as you let her use you however she wants, arousal practically coating your chin while she chases her high.

"Fuck, don't stop," she groans out, fingers holding your head still as you continue doing what you were doing, letting her fall over the edge with a guttural moan, her back arching further off the bed as her legs trembled and closed briefly around your head, pleasure filling her. You listened to every soft pant that left her, every hitch of her breath as you didn't stop your actions, moving your tongue around her slowly to begin with before thrusting it into her, moaning at the taste of her cum and the feeling of Natasha sliding a hand around your body, her finger working on your clit perfectly.

Your hips pushed back against hers as she kept up her merciless pace, your own release building within you swiftly as the toy reached deeper inside you, hitting all of your sweet spots at the same time.

"You're taking me so well Krasotka," she praises, causing you to whimper into Wanda's core, earning a lewd noise from her as you try your best to continue eating her out, pleasure and the desire to come clouding your mind.

"Nat, I- Fuck, Please," you plead, hands gripping Wanda's thighs a little tighter as you move your tongue to lap at her clit, switching to a slower pace as you were struggling to think straight with the redhead pounding into you.

"Hold it," she rasps out, tone laced with dominance as you whimper and whine, legs trembling making her hand support your body, Wanda's hands moving to interlock with yours, comforting you as you try to delay your orgasm.

"I can't," you're tone desperate as you move your head to rest against Wanda's thigh, her fingers soothingly scratching your scalp as she can hear your thoughts and the concentration of trying to obey Natasha, needing to please them both and be their good girl.

When another desperate and pathetic whimper leaves you, signalling how close you were to coming, Natasha pulls the toy out of you, her hands holding your body as your legs tremble at being denied again, another frustrated noise leaving you. Your head rests against Wanda's thigh as you whine, hips pushing back into the redhead's body in search of friction, her hands gliding up and down your body as you eventually calm down, Wanda's fingers still tangled in your hair.

"That's two," Wanda murmurs, pulling you away from her soft skin and admiring your dishevelled state; hair ruffled, lips kiss swollen, the blindfold loosely tied around your eyes as you look where she guides you. At the small noise that leaves you, Wanda's eyes meet Natasha's and they silently agree on ending your punishment, taking mercy on you, the both of them having edged you at least once and teasing you beyond madness. "I'm so proud of you Detka, good girl for taking your punishment so well," Wanda softly whispers while guiding you away from her legs, Natasha moving so she was laying down, waiting for the two of you.

Wanda kisses your lips softly, her hands guiding you into a new position, straddling the redhead as she moans at the taste of herself on your tongue, reluctantly parting from your mouth when Natasha wants a turn with you.

"Our good girl," Natasha husks out, breath fanning your lips as she brushes hers against yours, smiling against you while she pulls back marginally, your body naturally leaning forwards to chase them, hands searching for her shoulders. "What do you want, Krasotka?" Her tone a hum as her kisses travel along your jaw, her fingers gliding up your back slowly, eventually sliding through your hair and untying the blindfold, unravelling the tie and letting you see the two of them.

Your eyes blink as you adjust to not seeing darkness, the dim light helping you not be shocked at how bright the room was, the two sets of green eyes gazing at you immediately catching your attention.

"Please let me come," you beg and you don't care anymore at how desperate you sound, how needy you must seem as your eyes plead them to finally give you the pleasure of your release.

Wanda responds by moving her hand to cup your cheek, claiming your lips in a passionate kiss while Natasha moves her hands to your hips, lifting you up slightly so she could slide the toy back inside you, a broken noise being ripped from the back of your throat, the sound muffled by the witch's mouth as her tongue slides against yours messily.

Natasha's hands caress the curve of your hips affectionately as she lets you rock your hips against the toy, your body already moving a little frantically, your hands using the redhead as support.

"Show me how much you want it, Detka," Wanda pants against you, lips parting in a gasp as one of her hands move to your throat, eyes peering into yours with nothing but lust and desire as you whimper, pleasure building swiftly in your lower abdomen.

"Fuck," is all you can sigh out, hips increasing your pace as you roll them, the toy buried deep inside you making your eyes flutter close at the pleasure that shoots through you, nails digging into Natasha's shoulders.

You hear her hiss a little at the dull pain, her hips thrusting up into you as one of her hands move to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair and gripping on your roots softly. Your eyes eventually flutter open, a wave of arousal flooding through you at the sight of the two of them making out, your hips stuttering against the redhead's lap.

Natasha's mouth opened to welcome Wanda's tongue, the witch letting out a sinful sound as she slid her tongue against the spy's, messily locking their lips as they put on a show for you, lewd sounds escaping them both. You almost come at the sight of the string of saliva that connects their lips, the two of them connecting their lips again before it breaks off, addicted to each other.

"Nat," Wanda groans, her accent becoming more prominent as you watch them eventually pull away from each other's lips, eyes overflowing with lust as they turn their gazes to you when you whimper, a smirk gracing both of their faces.

"Are you close Krasotka?" Natasha rasps out, leaning forwards to crash ghost her lips against yours, one of her fingers sliding between your bodies to find your clit, Wanda's hand tightening at your throat as she busies herself kissing the redhead's neck, teeth grazing the creamy skin.

"So close," you whisper, resting your head against hers as your hips rock frantically against her, the base of the toy brushing her clit making her moan quietly while you chase your high, pushing her towards her own.

Your hands travel further down her toned back, a groan leaving you as you feel her muscles twitch under your touch, red marks being left by your nails at the pleasure coursing through you, the redhead unable to stop the small sighs leaving her as her orgasm approaches. Her arms snake around your waist, pulling you closer and helping you with your hips as your rhythm falters, legs starting to tremble as you teeter on the edge of your desired release, her head dropping to rest against your shoulder.

"Come with me," she pants against your bare skin, her hips stuttering up into you as your body tenses on top of her. Your moans become unrestricted as your release crashes through you powerfully, body buzzing with satisfaction as you clench around the toy, obeying her words as you come all over the strap, vision blurring with pleasure.

Soft pants and gentle breaths filled the room as you relaxed against Wanda's body at your side, Natasha resting against you as you both recovered, Wanda's fingers threading through your hair in a comforting manner, you mirroring the action with Natasha. The redhead's hands slide up and down your back in a loving caress, warmth fluttering in your chest as your eyes flutter open, meeting her softening green as she pulls away from your shoulder.

Your lips break out into a tender, awkward smile as you lift your hips off of her, letting her remove the harness before joining the two of you back on the bed, arms enveloping you in an embrace as Wanda sandwiches you between them, smiles playing on all of your lips.

"We're so proud of you," Wanda murmurs against your temple, kissing your skin and lingering against the top of your head, nose brushing your hair as you relax against them, Natasha's fingers tracing random patterns against your hip bone.

"So proud," Natasha adds, your cheeks tinting pink at their praise, face moving to hide at Wanda's neck, a soft laugh leaving the witch at your flustered state.

"Stop," you mutter shyly, making them both chuckle adorningly, Wanda's fingers scratching your scalp in an affectionate manner while Natasha kisses your shoulder, smiling against your skin at the domestic moment, the three of you savouring the tranquil atmosphere.

"I love you," you whisper to the both of them after a while, feeling your powerful release catch up on you, exhaustion creeping up on you as their warm bodies surround you.

"We love you too," Wanda murmurs, kissing your temple once more as your eyes eventually flutter close, body drifting off to sleep as the two of them smile at each other knowingly.

It was only a couple days till Christmas...

Only a couple more days till they could ask you to be their wife. 

[nessheartnat]

Lay me in the palm of your hand

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader, dom!natasha x sub!reader

words: 3.8K

summary: It was supposed to be a simple bar gig, but the night turned out to be a lot longer than you had anticipated.

warnings: swearing, suggestive language, (legal) age gap (Nat is 38, reader is 22), dom/sub undertones, dirty talk but no actions (yet), slightly possessive Nat…? mommy kink…?

men & minors DNI

notes: please correct any spelling mistakes! English is not my first language.

____

You were a young, upcoming musician, and you had just finished a gig at a small local bar. You were honestly surprised to see a plethora of people watching your gig, as you weren’t that famous after all. Despite the crowd being extensive, there was one face you couldn’t get out of your head. Those sharp, green eyes, red hair cascading down over her shoulders, a hand on her chin, her elbow resting against the table. Her gaze had been analyzing, almost calculating, but you could see through that. The way she had been staring at you, the way she couldn’t take her eyes off of you even for a second. You knew what it meant, or at least you truly hoped you were right. Cause god, she was too gorgeous for her own good. Or for your sanity…

To be fair, you couldn’t tear your eyes off of her either. She was absolutely stunning, definitely older than you, and she had such confident aura surrounding her. You knew you wanted her, so bad. Hell, you needed her.

-

After your gig, you had packed up your acoustic guitar, and sat down in a booth in the corner of the bar. You didn’t want to leave yet, when that gorgeous woman was still out there. You knew you wanted to talk to her, but you couldn’t gather up enough confidence to be bold and go up to her. Thus, you just sat there in your booth, a juicy cocktail in your hand, hoping for the best and preparing for the worst. 

You ran your fingers through your hair, and tugged down your short black top a bit. You were wearing a quite bold outfit; a pair of grey, baggy, low waisted jeans, and those combined with the top left a few inches of your waist and stomach showing. You weren’t necessarily regretting that outfit, but it wasn’t one you felt the most confident in. You twirled locks of your hair between your fingers - a habit you found yourself doing often - and occasionally glanced towards the direction of where the woman was sitting. But as you directed your gaze to her, you found out that she wasn’t sitting there anymore. No, she was walking straight towards you.

“I really enjoyed your gig there,” she spoke with a voice slightly lower than you would have guessed. “You’re really talented, you know.”

You had to swallow once, as you tried to gather yourself. This wasn’t the right time for panicking, you couldn’t afford to mess this up. Not today, not with her.

“Oh, thank you so much.. I’m glad you liked it,” you said, managing to sound somewhat normal. You took a sip of your cocktail, almost forgetting its existence. She looked at you with those green eyes, with a small, subtle smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“What’s your name?” she asked, that smile never leaving her face.

“Y/n,” you answered simply, setting your drink back down. “And what is yours?”

Her smile got slightly wider. “That’s a pretty name… Suits you well. I’m Natasha,” she answered back to you. You could see her eyes subtly trailing all over you, but you still weren’t convinced if it was real, or just your imagination. She sat down in the booth next to you, keeping a respectful distance. Her eyes searched yours for signs of discomfort, but found none. 

“Can I ask how old you are?” she questioned, and you could almost see her smile turning into a subtle smirk. Now this could be the moment that ruins everything…

“I’m twenty two,” you answered, scratching the back of your neck almost awkwardly. However, her tiny smirk didn’t seem to fade one bit.

“Twenty two, huh?” Natasha stated. She moved an inch closer to you, still keeping a respectful distance, but making her attraction clearer. “That makes you younger than me by quite a bit then…”

You resisted the urge to swallow again. She didn’t seem to mind your age too much… But you still didn’t know just how much older she was than you. Not that you wouldn’t mind her being older, you had always had a thing for older women after all.

“How old are you then?” you asked, wrapping your fingers around your cocktail glass again, but never bringing it up to your lips, as you were too focused on her.

“I’m thirty eight honey,” she answered with that small smirk still on her lips. Your heart almost skipped a beat at the nickname, and you didn’t know if it was an accident, or a totally purposeful move.

“So um… You were what, sixteen when I was born?” you blurted out before you could think of something better to say. Natasha let out a small laugh before nodding. She turned her gaze back to you.

“Yes, yes I was. I was near graduating high school as you were born,” she responded. That smirk on her pretty lips never faded.

You turned your gaze down, a small blush creeping up on your cheeks. “Oh my god, now that you say it like that it sounds…”

“A little weird? A bit inappropriate?” she finished your sentence with a small chuckle. You could notice her setting her hand down on the bench you were both sitting on, right beside your thigh, but not close enough to touch.

“Maybe,” you chuckled, and managed to gather yourself enough to turn your eyes back up to meet hers.

Natasha’s smile turned somewhat softer as her green eyes met yours. She leaned slightly closer. “Maybe, but you don’t seem to mind all that much.”

Finally growing bold enough, your lips turned into a small smirk. “Should I mind?”

Natasha leaned even closer, and you could almost feel her breath on your face. “Of course you shouldn’t…” she brought her hand up, placing her fingers under your chin and turning your head to the side. Her movements were sensual, but still mindful, and you could see that she didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Her lips touched your ear briefly, and you almost jolted, moving your hand to rest on the seat, but accidentally laying it right on top of her hand that was still placed there. You decided to be bold and disguise your awkward unintentional move into something planned, and didn’t pull your hand away.

“You know, you were staring at me the whole time I was watching you perform..,” she whispered into your ear. You turned your head to meet her gaze, suddenly aware of how close your face was to hers.

“I could say the same thing about you too… I saw how you couldn’t take your eyes off of me,” you stated. She moved her hand from under yours, and for a moment you thought she was going to pull away, until she placed her hand back, but this time it landed right on your thigh. You swallowed once, and resisted the urge to bite your lip. 

“Couldn’t resist it. You looked so damn good up there,” she spoke. You refused to seem too flustered even though you could feel the famous butterflies in your stomach. You had managed to achieve boldness for once, so you were not going to let it go so fast.

“That good huh?” you questioned, tilting your head to the side just a little. You kept your eyes glued to hers.

Natasha nodded slowly. “Mhm, really good, actually…” her hand moved up and down on your thigh, just an inch, but enough for you to end up biting your lip. “And you look even better now, up close,” she continued.

“Do I now? What do you like about me the most?” you asked boldly. Your eyes held almost a mischievous glint to them, and you could feel yourself growing more confident as the conversation went on.

“Hmm, that’s a tough question, love…” Natasha answered, the nickname slipping past her lips easily. She seemed to think for a moment, before she continued.  “I think I’m going with your eyes.”

“My eyes? Really?” you questioned, even though you weren’t really that surprised she had said that.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to get tired of staring into them for a while…” Natasha said with a not-so-subtle smirk. “In fact, I think I want to see them a bit better, up close.”

Before you could say anything, her hand moved to the back of your neck, gathering up some of your hair into her hand. Her other hand remained on your thigh, her fingers stroking your thigh in a slow motion. She gave your hair a small tug, not enough to hurt but certainly enough to make you part your lips and let out a little sigh as she tilted your head up. Her smirk widened as she heard the tiny sound you had let out. She gave your hair another small tug, making you bite your lip in order to prevent another sigh from escaping.

“That got you nice and worked up, didn’t it?” Natasha asked smugly, and you couldn’t stop the heat from creeping up on your cheeks.

“I don’t think I’m gonna admit that,” you answered, still feeling the slight tingling on your scalp, as her hand was still clutching the strands of your hair.

“Oh come on, you can tell me… I can see how responsive you are. I want to hear how bad you want me,” she purred, tugging your hair again.

“Fuck, you’re too good at this,” you let out a small breath, trying to gather yourself, trying to remind yourself of the boldness you had managed to achieve before.

“What can I say, I’ve had a lot of experience honey,” Natasha stated with a smug smirk. You moved your hands up to her shoulders, extending them out a little and wrapping them around the back of her neck. Her hands moved to your sides, her fingers caressing the bare skin on your waist. “You know, I really like this top of yours. Makes me want to see more of you.”

You were not going to submit too easily, and with your newfound courage, you opened your mouth again to respond to her with a surprising boldness. “Guess you’d love it even more if you saw what I was wearing under it…” you smirked, and leaned closer to her, bringing your lips very close to her ear. “Nothing…”

You could see Natasha’s breath hitching just slightly, as she probably wasn’t expecting such boldness from you. She turned to look at you, clearly trying to hide the surprised look on her face. “Fuck,” she breathed out, before continuing very straightforwardly. “I want you so badly.”

You couldn’t help but smirk, feeling extremely accomplished with your actions. “I know you do, I can see it pretty clearly. I can play this game too, you know,” you spoke with a hushed tone, as you didn’t want the whole bar to hear.

Natasha smirked too, clearly not wanting to give you the satisfaction of making her too flustered. You knew she wasn’t that type of a person who would give up control, but that made you only want to try even more. Her fingers caressed your bare waist again, almost slipping under the hem of your shirt, as she spoke again. “Oh really now? I’d like to see you try, sweetheart.”

“I don’t think I have to. I think you’re already quite addicted,” you responded with a small chuckle. Natasha looked straight into your eyes, her face still very close to yours. You could see it in her eyes, how she knew you were right. You could read her reactions like an open book, and you were going to use that.

“And what might give you that idea?” she challenged, but you had already planned a perfect response to that. Your smirk only widened, powered by your boldness that had reached its peak, and you leaned closer to her.

“I don’t think you could leave here without me… Or if you did, you’d probably end up touching yourself in your bed, only hoping it was my lips that were down on you… You know, my face, right there between your pretty thighs,” you whispered into her ear, knowing damn well how those words were going to affect her. You also knew just how bold you were being, and if this went further, you knew your ass would pay for those words. 

You could almost feel Natasha shivering a little, as you whispered that little fantasy to her. You could see how she was trying to get a grip of herself.

“I told you I could play this game too,” you whispered, purposefully brushing her ear with your lips. 

“Yeah… You definitely can,” she let out a small breath. “Wanna get out of here?”

You knew you wanted to, but you also wanted to make it more fun. “Why don’t you beg me a bit?” you asked, knowing that those words might have been a little too bold. You knew she wasn’t going to beg, and that she’d definitely put you into your place because of that comment, but you just couldn’t help it.

Her gaze hardened, and you could see the dominance growing in her eyes. “You want me to beg? I think you know damn well I’m not the one to beg, sweetheart. I could go and find someone else if you want to play this game.” 

You probably would have felt a little offended by that, if you had thought she actually meant that. But you knew you were right, she was addicted to you, and she most definitely was not going to leave and find someone else. 

“You could… But I know you’d only imagine my face instead of theirs,” you stated with a growing smirk.

“You’re really good at this, aren’t you? I wouldn't have expected that from you honey… You seemed more innocent at first… But I guess you just know what to say to rile me up,” Natasha chuckled. You knew it was only a matter of time when she’d take the dominant role back.

“Mhm, I do,” you responded with a nod and a smug smirk, enjoying yourself a bit too much. 

“Well then… Why don’t you test it out a bit more? Why don’t you say something else? See if you can rile me up even more?” she asked, moving her hand to your chin again. “But I’m warning you about the consequences baby…”

“Should I tell you how good I could make you feel? How good I could be?” you asked, tilting your head to the side again, never breaking eye contact. 

“Go ahead, love, tell me. Tell me how good you think you can make me feel,” she urged, with her thumb stroking your cheek slowly. Your smirk only widened, as you knew this was your time to shine. 

“Oh I think I could make you feel so damn good,” you started, and tilted your head more, getting free from her grasp. You leaned closer, with your lips hovering close to her ear, before you continued. “You’d take me home, maybe slam me right against the door of your apartment once we’re inside. You know I’d like that, especially if you combined that with a small tug on my hair and your knee between my legs… Imagine how good you’d feel with all that power you’d have over me. Hearing the small gasps I’d let out… You know you could just pick me up and throw me over your shoulder, right? You could do that, you could make me feel vulnerable… And I know you would enjoy having that power…”

Natasha let out a slightly shaky breath. “Damn, you really know how to play this game honey… You like being dominated, don’t you? You love feeling vulnerable… And you know I find that really fucking hot.”

You chuckled, letting your breath fan against her ear. “Don’t think I’m done yet,” you whispered, taking a small pause before continuing. “You could throw me on the bed, I bet you know I like it rough. And at that point, I’d probably be as wet as you are right now,” you teased her. The last part was just a guess, but from the way her breath hitched slightly, you could tell that you were correct.

Natasha let out a low moan, not loud enough for anyone else to hear. “Damn you’re really good,” she breathed out. “You better keep going.”

You smirked, and slid your hand on her inner thigh. Her hand was still on your waist, slowly inching further up under your shirt. You stroked her thigh in a slow motion, before continuing. “I know you’d want to strip me out of these clothes right away… You probably wouldn’t undress yourself yet, I bet you like having that power, with me naked below you while you’re still fully clothed, looking so damn good with that suit of yours…”

You could feel her squirming in her seat just a little. “Yeah I would.. I would love to see you naked below me, looking up at me with those pretty eyes… God you’d look so fucking good under me,” she breathed out.

“I know you crave that power… Just imagine how good it would feel. You know you could make me absolutely lose it, make me your little toy,” you purred against her ear. “I also bet you must have a pretty and large strap-on in your collection, am I right?”

Natasha let out a low sound, almost like a small growl. “You are indeed right… And you’d want me to fuck you with that? You’d let me be rough with you, just how you like it, just how you crave it? You’d let me use you, just because you need it?” she questioned. You could tell she was getting her grip back, but you weren’t ready to go down yet.

“Yes I would… And you know what happens after that?” you asked her, letting your lips brush against her ear again. You were glad that no one was near enough to hear, even though the thought of someone finding out what was happening excited you a little.

“What happens after that, sweetie? Tell me, what would happen after that?” she questioned again, urging you to continue.

“Then you’d have me right there, with a hazy look in my eyes… So submissive, just for you. You could have me right between your legs, eating you out so well…” you said, right to her ear.

Natasha’s eyes closed for a moment, and you just knew that little scenario was playing in her mind. “You think you could be better than anyone else, love?” she challenged.

You leaned even closer, so that there was no way anyone else could hear. “Mhm… I know you’re already wet from me just talking like this. Imagine how aroused you’d be with my mouth down there, right against you… And oh, imagine my pretty face after that… Covered in your slick… I could make you lose it too, you know. I could make your thighs tremble, make them press around my head when you’d feel so close…”

You knew she was only getting more aroused, the way her fingers stroked your side slightly rougher. “Fuck baby, you really know how to get me going… But can you live up to the expectations you’ve set for yourself now?” she questioned, clearly trying to get a grip of the situation.

“I know I can babe. And guess what? I could make you lose it with one single word right now…” you teased with a sly smirk.

“Oh yeah, you can? Why don’t you tell me then baby, go ahead…,” she urged. Your smirk grew even more, and you had to bite your lip to prevent you from grinning too much. This was perfect.

You moved closer, placing your lips right against her ear. You made sure that your breasts brushed against her bicep, as you leaned close to her. “Mommy..,” you purred softly right into her ear, causing her shiver visibly.

Natasha bit her lip, and slowly turned her gaze towards yours. “God damn baby… You’re way too naughty for your own good, and I’m guessing you know that. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d love to call me mommy…” she spoke with a low voice. “Say it again.”

You smirked, moving closer again and wrapping your hands around the back of her neck. Her hand moved further up on your side under your shirt, almost brushing the side of your boob. God, the thought of her being able to grab you so easily as you weren’t wearing a bra, left you feeling incredibly hot. You forced yourself to focus on the mission, and as you leaned closer to her ear, you gave her ear a gentle lick. “Mommy,” you purred again, feeling her tense up.

Natasha’s hand moved from your side to your thigh, squeezing it firmly. “That’s it baby. We’re getting out of here, right fucking now,” she breathed out and squeezed your thigh again. “You’re coming home with me. And I’m gonna fuck you so good that ‘mommy’ is the only word leaving that pretty mouth of yours…”

Before you could protest, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you up from your seat. You barely had any time to grab your guitar case, before she was already pulling you out of the bar with her. She dragged you with her all the way to her car and opened the backdoor, letting you throw your guitar case back there. Before you could open the passenger’s door, Natasha spinned you around and pinned you against the side of the car, leaning her face down close to yours. She was slightly taller than you, so her presence felt even more dominating as she was towering over you..

“I’ve let you run that mouth long enough little girl… When we get to my place, I’m gonna make sure you strip out of those clothes and kneel in front of the bed. You’re gonna have to meet up those expectations you’ve been setting up for yourself now, and I’m not going to let you off the hook too easily,” she said with a harsh tone. “You’re mine for the night now, do you understand? You’re gonna obey me, and do as I say, or you won’t like the consequences. Isn’t that right, little one?”

You bit your lip and rubbed your thighs together slowly, trying to ease the growing neediness. “Yeah,” you breathed out, but that wasn’t enough for her. Natasha moved her hand down on your thigh, and gave it a harsh smack.

“Try that again baby, yes what?” she demanded you to correct yourself.

Before you could even acknowledge it, you found yourself submitting to her. “Yes mommy…”

Her lips curled into a smirk, and she raised her hand up to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Good girl,” she purred into your ear. “Now get in the car and behave yourself.”

more notes... :

So yeah hi... Anyone want a part 2?

[cinnabunwanda]

Eating out ✰ Natasha Ramnoff ⌇DRABBLES

content warning — smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, clit play (sort of?), dirty talk

pairing — fem reader x natasha romanoff

summary — Nat, captivated by your soft lips, manipulates her, causing her to moan your name. You feel guilty for Steve and Bucky, causing her to swell and twitch.

word count — 712

authors note — hey guys! so sorry that I haven't been posting i've been away with my husband. its also hard to post and get out of bed when you have depression lmao. so I will try and be regular when posting ty all!!

The softness of your lips always surprised Nat, even though she had been in this position countless times before. Each time, the teasing touch of your tongue against her sensitive folds sent shivers down her spine and left her moaning your name.

"Mmm, you're so good at that, baby," she moaned breathlessly, loving how effortlessly you could bring her to bliss. It was a high that she knew she could never achieve without you.

"You like that, don't you?" You smirked confidently as you continued to pleasure her with your skilled tongue.

"Yes!" Nat's cry only motivated you further as you worked your magic on her. You didn't feel the need to hold down her hips or ask her to be quiet; the feeling of her grinding against your face only added to the intensity. And as for any noise...well, let's just say the Avengers were used to your "private activities."

Your hair was tugged gently by Nat's hand as she reached new levels of pleasure, sending a deliciously painful sensation through your scalp and adding to the excitement coursing through your body. This was what you loved most - being on your knees on the plush carpet (installed by Tony at Nat's request) and worshiping every inch of her pale skin. Your plump lips danced along her spread thighs, leaving teasing kisses and playful nips on her hips.

But finally, they would find their way to her most sensitive spot - her swollen clit. With a soothing rhythm of sucking and flicking with your tongue, you could feel yourself grinning as Nat whined and squirmed beneath you. The little bud between your teeth would send shocks of pleasure through both of you as it was pulled out in a slow motion before being released back into place.

"Please." That one word was music to your ears and fueled your own desire for her. It was a sound that you craved - the way Nat's lips formed and shaped around the word, begging for more.

"Please what, princess? Do you want me to stop?" For added emphasis, you pulled away completely, leaving her body cold and craving your touch.

"No!" Nat's whispered plea was met with her hands reaching for you, her hips wriggling on the bed as she tried to get closer to you. The covers twisted and bunched around her hips as she squirmed in pleasure under your skillful touch.

"Oh? So my little baby wants me to make her cum?" Your voice was teasing, but also a bit cruel as you pushed your lips into a pout and ran your hands over her quivering thighs.

"Please, please make me cum." It wasn't often that Nat begged; she enjoyed being in control. But today, just like every now and then, you convinced her to give up that control and let you take care of her.

"Say my name. Moan it, scream it, and I'll make you cum." You demanded this promise from her, a devious smirk playing on your lips when she whispered your name. "Does it feel good to say my name, baby? Do you like having it on your tongue?"

She screamed your name this time, so loud that you almost felt guilty for Steve and Bucky - their enhanced hearing would definitely pick up on what was happening between the two of you. But you couldn't bring yourself to care as you leaned in again, ready to pleasure your girl.

When she came, it was loud and beautiful. Nat's mouth was open in a silent scream - the telltale sign that she was seeing stars - while her legs shook and hips thrust, chasing your mouth as you leaned back to watch.

Your fingers glided over her thighs, eventually reaching her clit in small circles to help prolong her orgasm. You watched hungrily as Nat's plump lips were pulled between her teeth, biting and manipulating them until they were raw and swollen.

"That's it, just like that." Nat was coming back down to earth, your soothing voice bringing her back as her chest heaved and thighs twitched under your touch.

But your fingers still remained on her clit, slow yet persistent as you hummed thoughtfully.

"I think I want you to do that again; maybe I can make you squirt this time."

©Elena do not copy, edit, or translate my works.

[natsaffection]

Redline. pt 1 | N.R

You swore you’d never race again after the crash that nearly killed you. For years, you stayed in the shadows, avoiding the world you once ruled. Then Natasha Romanoff came looking for a driver, and she chose you. You fought her. You refused. But Natasha doesn’t take no for an answer. But coming back means facing everything you ran from: the fame, the pressure, the past. And with the world watching, one question remains: Are you still the driver you once were, or will the past catch up before you can prove it?

Older!Motorsportboss!Natasha x Younger!RacingDriver!Reader

Warnings: Age gap (N= 32, r=23), Crash Trauma, Car racing

Word count: 7k

A/N: Helloo, I really love this dynamic and hope you will too, so I can continue the story..🙆🏻‍♀️

At the moment Natasha saw the contract, she knew exactly how this would end.

She had years of experience in this business, long enough to see through every trick, every tactic, every maneuver. She had seen drivers come and go, talent wasted, careers ruined by greed. She had watched men with potential destroy themselves before they even had the chance to prove themselves. And Jake? He was about to become one of them.

She sat in the dimly lit conference room, the only light coming from her tablet screen as she scrolled through the details of his betrayal. The agency’s report had been sent to her earlier that day, and now, as she skimmed through the contract details, she pressed her lips into a thin line.

Jake wasn’t leaving the team for a better one. He wasn’t making a strategic decision to secure his position. No, he was leaving for money. A weaker team had offered him a higher salary, and that alone was enough to make him walk away. To leave Romanoff Racing. To leave the team that had made him relevant in the first place.

Natasha leaned back in her chair, rolled her shoulders, and let out a slow breath. If he had left for a real opportunity, for something better, she would have understood. She wouldn’t have liked it, but she would have respected it. But this? This was pathetic.

A quiet rustling on the other side of the room pulled her from her thoughts. Yelena sat lazily in one of the chairs, skimming the same documents Natasha had just read. She popped a piece of gum into her mouth and chewed absentmindedly as she turned the page. “So.” Yelena murmured without looking up, “Walker is an idiot.”

Natasha didn’t respond. Yelena chuckled softly, shaking her head as she tossed the folder onto the table. “Seriously, what was he thinking? That you wouldn’t find out?” She tilted her head slightly, studying her sister. “Or did he really think he could outsmart you?”

Natasha tapped her fingers on the table once before picking up the folder and snapping it shut with a sharp click. Slowly, she stood up, tucking the documents under her arm and adjusting her jacket. Yelena watched her, amusement flickering in her eyes. “You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?”

Natasha didn’t even look at her as she walked toward the door. “Yes.”

The garage was too quiet when Jake Walker walked in. It wasn’t the usual silence after a race, the kind that settled in after a long day on the track. It wasn’t the hum of cooling engines or the distant murmurs of the pit crew. No. This silence meant something was wrong. He slowed his steps, scanning the empty space. Normally, there would be a few mechanics analyzing data, prepping the cars. But tonight?

Only she was there. Natasha stood at the workbench, arms crossed over her chest, waiting. She wasn’t in a suit, not in formal attire. She was still in her racing gear, the sleeves of her fireproof suit tied around her waist, the black tank top hugging her toned frame. This wasn’t business. This was personal. A cold feeling settled in Jake’s stomach, but he forced himself to stay relaxed as he stepped closer. “Hey.” he greeted, his voice calm, controlled. “What’s going on?”

She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she opened the folder in her hand with practiced ease and then, with a precise flick of her wrist, tossed it onto the table in front of him. Jake frowned and looked down. The moment he saw the contents, his stomach clenched. His contract negotiations. His meetings. His plans. Plans Natasha wasn’t supposed to know about. His mouth went dry. “Listen, I can explai-”

“You thought you could outsmart me.” Her voice was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that was more dangerous than shouting. Jake clenched his jaw. “It’s not what you think-”

Natasha finally looked at him. Really looked at him. And for the first time in his career, Jake felt fear. “You could have left for a better team.” she said calmly, tilting her head slightly, her voice devoid of emotion. “I would have understood.”

A pause. A suffocating pause. “But you didn’t.” Jake swallowed, straightening his posture. “It was just negotiations!” he began. “This is standard practice-”

Natasha stepped closer. Not aggressively. Controlled. Calculated. “Do you think I don’t know how this business works?” Her voice was almost mocking. “I’ve been in this world longer than you’ve been relevant. I know the game. And this?” She gestured toward the folder. “This isn’t a smart move. It’s not strategy.”

Another step. “This is greed.” Jake’s hands twitched at his sides, frustration bubbling up. “It’s money!” he snapped. “And in case you forgot, that’s what keeps this whole place running..”

Natasha actually smiled. A small, cold, deadly smile. “No.” she said simply. “I keep this running.”

Jake’s breath hitched for a moment, but he held his ground. “This is a big mistake..” he growled. “You fire me, and I lose everything. My sponsors, my place in the season- you know damn well no one will sign me now! You’re destroying me!”

Natasha tilted her head, as if considering it. Then she shrugged. “Yes.” Jake’s fists clenched, his frustration shifting into pure, bitter anger. “Do you really think you can just replace me?”

Natasha’s smile widened. “I don’t need to replace you.” she said softly, razor-sharp. “I need someone better.” Jake inhaled sharply, his jaw tightening so hard his teeth ached. His hands twitched, as if he wanted to hit something, do something.

But he didn’t. Because even he wasn’t that stupid. Instead, he stepped back. His chest rose and fell heavily, his career crumbling before his eyes. And Natasha? She didn’t care. Jake exhaled sharply through his nose, straightened his posture, and forced his face into a neutral expression. “You’ll regret this.” he muttered.

Natasha smiled. “No, Walker.” she said quietly. “I won’t.” Jake’s jaw clenched. Then he turned and stormed out. The door slammed behind him. Yelena let out a low whistle. “Well..” she murmured, still chewing her gum, “that was dramatic.”

Natasha exhaled slowly, shaking off the last traces of irritation before turning back to the workbench. Yelena stretched and tilted her head. “You do realize you just fired your only driver, right? The championship is in three months, and we now have exactly zero people for that seat.” She popped her gum. “Even for you, that’s a bold move.”

Natasha didn’t respond right away. Instead, she reached for her gloves and pulled them on with a quiet certainty. “I don’t need just anyone.” she finally said. “I need someone who’s willing to risk everything.”

Yelena chuckled softly. “Right. And where exactly do you plan on finding someone that crazy?” Natasha’s lips barely twitched. “Where no one else is looking.”

——

You were crouched beside the open hood of a sleek, jet-black race car, your fingers gliding gently along the edge of the exposed engine. The scent of oil and gasoline clung to your skin, mixing with the fabric of your grease-stained overalls.

“You’re stubborn today..” you murmured, tightening a bolt with a practiced twist of your wrist. A quiet laugh sounded behind you. “She’s talking to them again?”

“Like they’re her children.” another mechanic chuckled. You didn’t look up. “First of all..” You called back, your voice playful but firm, “He prefers to be addressed with respect. And second unlike you idiots, he actually listens to me.”

More laughter. Because that was the thing about you. Everyone here liked you. You weren’t just any mechanic. You weren’t just someone who knew these cars inside and out, someone who could tell what was wrong just by the sound of an engine.

You were one of them.. A racer, a mechanic, an engineer, everyone in the garage respected you. You pulled the final bolt tight, exhaled, and slid out from under the car. “Hey..” a voice called. You turned. One of the engineers, a burly man with a permanent oil stain on his shirt, waved you over.

“She’s ready for a test run.” he said, nodding toward the car you’d been working on. “You up for it?” You hesitated. You always hesitated. One lap. Just to check the steering, the brakes, the feel of the engine. It wasn’t about speed. It wasn’t about pushing limits. It never felt like just a test. “Yeah.” you said firmly. “I’ll do it.”

The grandstands were full. A restless sea of bodies leaning forward, voices rising in a chaotic mix of cheers and curses as the race unfolded before them. But Natasha didn’t see the race like they did. She studied it. Arms crossed, weight balanced perfectly, she stood at the edge of the pit lane, eyes locked onto the track as the cars tore through the corners like bullets.

The floodlights cast sharp shadows over her face, making her expression even colder. Beside her, Yelena leaned casually against the railing, popping a piece of gum into her mouth, watching the race with far less intensity. “This is a waste of time..” Yelena muttered, chewing. “Same game, different track. You’re not going to find what you’re looking for here.”

Natasha didn’t respond. Because for the past few weeks, Yelena had been right. Driver after driver. Race after race. And nothing. No fire. No hunger. No one who understood the difference between fast and fearless. She inhaled slowly, concealing her frustration. She didn’t need an arrogant, hot-headed rookie. She didn’t need someone who thought they were great.

And then..she saw something. A blue car. It moved differently. Not with the reckless aggression of the others, not with the desperate hunger to overtake. No..it was precise. Every corner was a conversation, a fine-tuned balance between speed and control. The driver wasn’t fighting the car. They were one with it.

But something was wrong. Natasha’s eyes narrowed. The movements were too careful, too calculated. Held back, as if the driver was testing the limits, but refusing to cross them. She had seen this before. This wasn’t a driver racing for the win. This was someone racing against ghosts. Yelena noticed the shift in Natasha’s posture and followed her gaze. “Huh..” she murmured. “That’s..different.”

Natasha didn’t look away from the track. “Who is that?” Yelena waved over an official, a man who looked both honored and terrified to be standing so close to the Romanoff sisters. “The blue car!” Yelena said, nodding toward the track. “Who’s behind the wheel?”

The official hesitated. “That’s..Y/n Y/l/n.” Natasha’s jaw tightened slightly. She knew that name. Yelena let out a low whistle, her usual amusement fading into something more serious. “Damn..” she muttered. She turned to Natasha. “You remember her, don’t you?”

Natasha didn’t answer. Of course, she remembered. For years, you had been untouchable. A legend before you had even reached your prime. You raced like you had nothing to lose, like fear was a concept you had never learned. Till you crashed. Not just any crash. A nightmare. An accident so brutal, so catastrophic, that no one thought you would survive.

For weeks, the footage had played on every sports channel. The final lap of the championship race. You were in the lead, seconds from victory, until it happened. A clipped rear wing. A high-speed spin at 320 km/h. The impact was monstrous. Metal crumpled like paper, the car flipping multiple times, sent flying across the track, disintegrating in a cascade of sparks and fire. When the wreck finally came to a stop, it was nothing more than a charred, mangled cage of steel.

And inside? You. Broken, bleeding and unconscious. Two minutes. No pulse. Natasha pieced the details together in her head, the puzzle clicking into place. She knew what an accident like that did to a driver. It rooted itself deep inside them. It changed instincts. It turned the greatest passion into the greatest fear.

Yet despite everything, despite the hesitation in your movements, there was still something in your driving. A familiarity. A certainty in your instincts that no one ever truly lost. Yelena watched the race with new intensity. “This isn’t just a clean lap..” she murmured. “This is art.”

Natasha gave the smallest nod, never taking her eyes off the track. This wasn’t just a test run. This was someone who wasn’t just testing a car. This was someone who understood it. A corner. One that any test driver would take cautiously, just to gather data. But you? You took it like you were still a racer.

Perfectly timed. Perfectly felt. For the briefest second, for a heartbeat you forgot yourself. Natasha saw it in real-time. The moment you drove on instinct alone. The moment you let go. Natasha recognized the exact moment it happened. The way the car suddenly slowed down, the way the caution returned to your movements.

You stopped yourself. Natasha exhaled slowly. “She’s not just testing.” she murmured. “She’s driving like the car still belongs to her.” The man standing beside her sighed heavily. “Yeah,..” he said quietly. “She still does.”

Yelena frowned, watching as you pulled into the pit lane. “That’s not a driver who doesn’t want to race.” Natasha already knew that. She just didn’t say it out loud. Because she had already figured it out. That hesitation, the moment you held yourself back, told her everything she needed to know.

You weren’t here to test cars. You were here because you couldn’t stay away. And yet, the moment you stepped out of the car, the moment your feet hit the asphalt, you buried it again. The helmet stayed on. Your posture remained closed off, controlled. You handed over the keys, exchanged barely a word, and walked straight back into the garage.

Natasha moved. But before she could take another step, she felt a firm hand on her arm. Slowly, she turned her head and met the calm, knowing gaze of the man beside her. His grip wasn’t hard, but it was definitive. The kind that said: Don’t do it. He knew exactly what she was about to do. And he knew it wouldn’t work.

“She’s not looking for a comeback, Romanoff.” he said. His voice was quiet, but heavy. Natasha didn’t pull away, but she didn’t back down either. “She’s already back.” she countered softly. “She’s on the track.”

The man exhaled slowly through his nose. “Not the way you think.” Yelena folded her arms, glancing toward the garage. “Then why is she here?” The man was silent for a long time. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he sighed, rubbing a tired hand over his face. “Because this is the only place that still makes sense to her.”

Natasha remained still. That was an answer she understood all too well. “She disappeared after the crash..” the man continued. “Not just from racing. From everything. No press. No statements. No farewell speech. She just…vanished. And you know what? I think she really wanted to. I think she wanted to convince herself she was done.”

Yelena let out a quiet scoff. “I remember the crash.” she muttered. “Everyone does.” Yeah. Everyone did. Before the accident, your name had been spoken with reverence. A rising legend. A driver who had seemed untouchable. Then, in a single moment. The fall.

Not just any loss. A wreck so violent people had looked away from their screens. A crash that had silenced entire stadiums. “She was dead.” Yelena murmured. “Two minutes, right?”

The old man nodded slowly. “Two minutes. No pulse. The medics pulled her from the wreck thinking they were recovering a body, not saving a life.” Natasha turned to Yelena. “I want to meet her.”

Yelena grinned. “Are you sure? She doesn’t look like she wants to be found.” Natasha’s gaze hardened. “She’s already been to hell,” she murmured. “She can handle me.” And with that, the decision was made.

She moved through it all with quiet precision, out of place but completely in control. She wasn’t dressed for the chaos of the garage, no oil-stained coveralls, no smudges of grease, no heavy gloves. She didn’t belong here, and yet, every step she took demanded the kind of presence that made people move out of her way without a word.

She spotted you immediately, half under a car, legs stretched out, one hand buried deep in the engine bay. The way you worked wasn’t just methodical, it was intimate. The way your fingers moved, the way you tested a part, listened to the engine hum, made minute adjustments you weren’t just fixing a machine. You understood it.

Natasha stopped a few feet away, tilting her head slightly as she watched. “You drive like someone who doesn’t belong here.” You froze. It was small, barely noticeable, the slight hesitation of your wrist before you finished tightening whatever part you had been working on. But Natasha caught it.

Because she was always watching. A slow, measured breath left your lips before you rolled out from under the car, sitting up with your arms resting against your knees. There was grease smeared across your cheek, a few loose strands of hair sticking to your temple from the heat, but none of that mattered.

Because the second your eyes met Natasha’s, you knew. Your posture shifted. Not in shock, not in surprise. In recognition. And then, just as quickly, in rejection. “No.”

Natasha arched a brow, unfazed. “I didn’t ask anything yet.” You grabbed a rag, wiping your hands with slow, deliberate movements before standing up. “You didn’t have to.” Natasha smirked slightly, though there was no humor in it. “You know who I am.”

You exhaled, shaking your head as you grabbed a bottle of water from the nearby workbench. “Everyone in this business knows who you are.” You twisted the cap off, took a sip, and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand before turning your gaze back to Natasha. “And I already know why you’re here.”

Natasha studied you, taking in the subtle tension in your shoulders, the way your fingers flexed slightly before stilling. You weren’t just expecting this conversation, you had already decided against it.

“You need a driver.” you continued before Natasha could even open her mouth. “And you think I should be it.” Natasha didn’t confirm or deny it. She didn’t have to. You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “Not happening.”

Natasha tilted her head slightly. “You didn’t even hear my offer.”

“Don’t need to.” You tossed the rag onto the workbench, your movements final. “I don’t race.”

Natasha stepped forward. “You don’t compete.” You turned away, picking up another tool and adjusting something in the car. “Same thing.”

The silence that stretched between you wasn’t tense, it was a battle. Natasha wasn’t used to people walking away from her. She wasn’t used to people ignoring her. But you? You didn’t hesitate to turn your back.

Natasha narrowed her eyes slightly. “I watched you on the track.” You kept working. “Good for you.”

“You’re not just testing the cars.” Natasha’s voice was quieter now, but sharper, cutting through the noise of the garage like a blade. “You’re still racing.”

Your hands stilled for a fraction of a second. Then, just as quickly, you kept moving. Natasha pressed forward. “I saw the way you took that turn. The way you adjusted, the way you let the car move with you instead of fighting it.” She stepped closer, her voice lowering just enough to make you listen. “A test driver wouldn’t drive like that.”

You exhaled, slamming the hood of the car shut harder than necessary. “Whatever you think you saw.” you muttered, voice tight, “it doesn’t matter.”

Natasha didn’t move. She stood her ground, unwavering. “You belong on the track.” You laughed. It wasn’t amused. It wasn’t light. It was sharp, bitter, the kind of laugh that had too much weight behind it.

You finally turned, your expression unreadable, but your voice was cold when you spoke. “I belonged there. Past tense.”

Natasha held your gaze. “That’s not what I saw.” You wiped your hands again, slower this time, more deliberate. “Then you weren’t looking hard enough.”

Silence. Natasha exhaled through her nose, rolling her shoulders back slightly. “You can tell yourself that all you want, but I know a racer when I see one. And you?” She smirked faintly. “You’re still racing. You just don’t want to admit it.”

Your jaw ticked. For a moment, Natasha thought she had you. Thought she had struck the nerve she needed to. But then, you simply shook your head and grabbed a wrench. “Go find someone else, Romanoff.” You turned back to the car, your shoulders set, your posture final.

This conversation was over. Natasha studied you for a long moment, weighing her options. She could push. She could demand, argue, try to break through the wall you had built.

But she knew better. She knew when to walk away. At least, for now. She exhaled slowly, stepping back. “You know where to find me.”

You didn’t respond. Natasha didn’t expect you to. She turned, walking out of the garage, her steps slow, controlled. She wasn’t done. She wasn’t giving up. Because no matter how much you tried to deny it, Natasha had already seen the truth. You were still a racer. And Natasha Romanoff always got what she wanted.

As she stepped outside, the night air cooler than the thick heat of the garage, Yelena fell into step beside her, hands shoved into the pockets of her leather jacket. She had been watching from a distance, leaning against the wall near the entrance, casually observing the entire exchange.

After a few seconds of silence, she let out a low whistle, smirking. “That might be the first time I’ve seen someone tell you to go to hell and actually get away with it.” Natasha didn’t slow her stride. “She didn’t tell me to go to hell.”

Yelena popped her gum. “No, but she might as well have.” She studied her sister’s expression, intrigued. “So, what’s the plan now? You actually gonna let that be the end of it?”

Natasha didn’t hesitate. “No.” Yelena chuckled. “Didn’t think so.”

Days went by and you were again on the track. The first laps were smooth. You drove with focus, feeling the car’s balance, analyzing every movement, every response. No risks. No unnecessary speed. It wasn’t a race. Just a test run.

And then you saw it. In the rearview mirror. Another car, at the end of the straight, right in the middle of the track. You blinked. That couldn’t be. No other car was supposed to be here. But it was.

Then your radio crackled. “You’re driving like a damn rookie.” Your heart stopped. That voice. You gritted your teeth. “What the hell are you doing here?” She didn’t answer immediately. Her silence was almost worse than her words. “Drive.”

You shook your head, pressing the radio button harder than necessary. “I’m working. Get off the track.”

“Make me.”

Your fingers tightened around the wheel. The red car moved. Slowly, controlled. It slid into your line, blocking your path, positioning itself exactly where you needed to go. “Romanoff..” you growled.

“You think you can ignore me?” Her voice was sharp. “That I’ll just stand by and disappear?”

“I’m not here for a damn game.”

“Oh, but you are. You just don’t know it yet.”

Her car kept moving, staying exactly in your line. No gap. No escape.

“I don’t have time for this shit.”

Natasha laughed, a dark, mocking sound. “Oh, you have time. You’ve wasted years hiding. Not today.”

Your pulse was racing now. A fine tremor ran through your hands, your chest rising and falling faster than it should.

“Get. Out. Of. My. Way.”

“Make. Me.”

Her voice was calm. Almost amused.

“This isn’t a damn negotiation!”

“No. It’s a race.” And then she took off. Suddenly, the red car wasn’t just an obstacle. It was a shadow, shooting past you, positioning itself ahead, dominating every damn turn.

She gave you no choice. You felt your grip on the wheel tighten, your jaw clenching. “You think you can just challenge me?”

“I know you want it.”

Your heart pounded. “Shut up.”

“Drive.”

She pushed you. Drove more aggressively, more recklessly, cutting you off, giving you no damn room to breathe.

“You’ve gotten weak.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “Shut. Up.”

“You used to be someone I respected.”

“I will shove you off this track if you don’t-”

“Then do it.” She knew damn well you wouldn’t. Your hands were shaking. Your breath was shallow.

“You’re not yourself anymore, are you?” Those words dug under your skin, a pain deeper than any physical wound. You hated her in that moment. Hated her for her arrogance. Hated her for knowing you. Hated her because she was right.

“Do you know what disappoints me most about you?” she continued, as if this was some damn therapy session. “It’s not the crash. It’s not that you fell. It’s that you don’t even try to get back up.”

And that was the moment. The moment something inside you snapped. A break. A damn fire you had suffocated for so long that you had almost forgotten it was ever there. Your foot slammed onto the gas. “Fuck you.”

The engine roared. The car responded instantly, as if it had been waiting for this moment. Suddenly, there was no hesitation. No fear. No voices from the past. Just speed. And a damn red shadow ahead of you, one you would finally chase. The engine roared under your control as you pushed the gas pedal down. Your car shot forward, vibrating with an intensity that traveled through your bones, but Natasha was there.

Like a damn predator. The red car moved with terrifying precision, cutting you off again and again, blocking your best lines, forcing you into her trap. She gave you no room to breathe, no moment of control. This wasn’t a challenge. It was a show of dominance. Every turn, every straight-line maneuver was a damn game. But not just any game. It was her game. And she made sure you lost.

The next corner approached with brutal speed. A sharp right turn, one that would demand everything. Your fingers clenched around the steering wheel, your body was ready, but your mind wasn’t. You were supposed to brake. A fraction of a second earlier than usual to maintain control. But then Natasha moved over. Hard. Aggressive. Too soon. Way too soon.

Your breath caught. What the hell is she doing? Her line was a disaster, too tight, too risky. She forced you to the outer edge, pushing you into a damn dead end. “Brake.” Her voice cut through the radio. Ice-cold. “Brake or crash.”

Your heart pounded. Your instincts screamed, she had you exactly where she wanted. But your body… your damn body wouldn’t listen. Your leg twitched, your foot wanted to press the brake. Just like back then. Just like on the day you last really raced. A flash shot through your mind, the impact, the screeching metal, the blood. The silence afterward. Your hands trembled. Natasha knew. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“Do it.” her voice came through again. “Do it or stop calling yourself a driver.” Your rage exploded. “Romanoff!!!” You yanked the steering wheel, forcing the car into an impossibly tight line, feeling the tires fight for every inch of traction. Your body tensed, everything in you screamed that you wouldn’t make it.

But you did. Your car flew through the corner, just a hair’s breadth from Natasha’s, so close you could swear her gaze burned through the helmet straight into your soul. But she didn’t brake. She stayed with you. She dragged you with her. “Yeah..” you heard her growl as your cars raced side by side down the straight. “That’s it.”

Your whole body burned. Your muscles locked under the tension. This wasn’t a damn race anymore. This was war. And you hated her. Hated that she had brought you here. Hated that you needed it. Hated that you had missed it. The final turn approached. Fast, treacherous. The kind of turn where drivers either proved themselves, or failed. Natasha went in first. Her line was perfect. Almost too perfect.

You could have let her go. Could have let her take the lead. But you didn’t. No. Not today. Not anymore. The anger boiled over, your head screamed against all the voices that had held you back for years. You want me to take risks? Then fine, here you go. You ripped the car into the turn harder than ever before, deeper than anyone would have dared, taking an impossible line, one that couldn’t work.

It didn’t have to work. It just had to prove you weren’t afraid anymore. The tires screamed under the pressure, your car shook, the chassis vibrated as if it would fall apart, but you held the line. And for the first time in this whole damn race, you heard nothing from Natasha. No command. No taunt. Just silence. The finish line came into sight, you and Natasha racing towards it, but you didn’t care.

You had surprised her. For the first time, you had turned the tables. Adrenaline rushed through your blood, your body electric as your cars crossed the line. For a moment, the world was nothing but white noise. Then silence. You tore the helmet off your head before the car even stopped. Your hands were shaking..but not from fear. From anger. Anger at Natasha. Anger that she had dared. That she had pushed you this far.

That she…That she had done it. You jumped out of the car, your pulse pounding as you stormed past her. “See? I-”

“Fuck you, Romanoff.” you spat, your voice trembling with barely suppressed rage. You didn’t look back. Not at her. Not at the car. Not at the damn monster she had awakened in you.

——

You lay on your bed, arms folded behind your head, staring at the ceiling. Since you had come home, you hadn’t spoken to anyone. Not because there was nothing to say. But because you couldn’t. Your head was full. Full of her laughter. Full of the screeching tires, of the way your heart had pounded when you almost lost control. Full of that damn fire Natasha had reignited in you.

You hated her. Hated her because she knew exactly what she was doing. Hated her because she had brought you back to a place you swore you’d never return to. Hated her because it had felt..damn it..alive.

You gritted your teeth and rubbed your face, exhausted. Your whole body was still tense, as if you were about to get back into the car. The tension just wouldn’t fade. For years, you had held back. For years, you had done everything to bury that part of yourself. And then she came along.

Romanoff. And within minutes, she had torn it all down. A knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. “Y/n, dinner’s ready!” Your mother’s voice. Warm, kind, the kind that usually calmed you. But not today. You didn’t want to go downstairs. Didn’t want to pretend everything was normal, as if yesterday hadn’t happened. But if you didn’t, there would be questions. And questions were the last thing you needed.

So you forced yourself out of bed, pulled on a sweatshirt, and shuffled down the stairs. The kitchen was warm, the smell of food lingering in the air. Your mother was still at the stove, your father already sitting at the table, scrolling through his phone, while your little brother sat next to him, tapping his fork against his plate.

You sat down silently, grabbed a bowl of food, and started eating without looking at anyone. Maybe they wouldn’t notice. Maybe tonight would just be a normal evening. “Y/n were driving again yesterday!” The fork in your hand froze. A cold shiver ran down your spine. Slowly, painfully slowly, you lifted your gaze.

Your little brother grinned at you, completely unaware of what he had just done. “Yeah, she was on the track! I saw it! Her car was really fast!”Silence. A different kind of silence. The kind that comes before a storm. Slowly, your father put his phone down. Your mother turned away from the stove, still holding the spoon in her hand, her eyes wide with shock.

“What?” Her voice was quiet. Too quiet.

“It was just a test run..” you tried to keep your voice calm. “Nothing serious.”

“A test run?” Your father leaned back, his brow furrowed deeply. “Since when are you driving again?”

“I’m not.”

“Oh yes, you are!” your brother chimed in cheerfully. “And you’re really good! I even saw videos!”

“Jacob, shut up!!” You snapped. Your mother looked at you like she didn’t recognize you. “We talked about this.”

“I know!”

“No, apparently, you don’t!” Her voice was sharper now. “I thought you wanted to leave it behind. I thought you were done with all of this.” Your jaw tightened. “I am.”

“You were driving.”

“It was nothing.”

“It was something..” your father cut in now, his tone cool, controlled, but you could hear the underlying frustration.

“After everything that happened? After the accident?” Your mother’s voice was rising now. “And now you’re telling us it was nothing?”

Your hands curled into fists under the table. “I didn’t want to, okay?” you finally said, your voice lower. “She…she pushed me into it.”

“She?” Your father frowned. “Who?”

You swallowed hard. You could have lied. Could have made something up. But what would have been the point? “Natasha Romanoff.” The name dropped into the room like a weight. Your father took in a sharp breath. Your mother froze for a moment, as if she wasn’t sure she had heard correctly. “Natasha Romanoff?” Her tone wavered somewhere between disbelief and concern.

“Yes.” Your father slowly shook his head, like he couldn’t believe it. “That woman is…Y/n, she’s dangerous.”

“She’s a damn legend..!” your brother chimed in excitedly, as if you had just spoken about a hero. “Jacob, you stay out of this!” your father snapped, shooting him a quick glance before his focus returned to you. “And she’s the one who got you back in a car?”

You felt the anger rising inside you, but it wasn’t the explosive, loud kind. It was deeper. Simmering. Because they made it sound like you had no choice. But you did. And you made it. “I did it myself..” you murmured.

“Against her?” Your mother stared at you in disbelief. You nodded. Her face paled. Your father let out a short, humorless laugh. “Oh, that’s fantastic. First, she races you, then she pushes you to keep going? What the hell does this woman want from you?”

“I don’t know.” The lie came too easily. But you did know. Natasha had told you. She wanted to bring you back. And the worst part of it all, the part that made your stomach turn, was that some part of you wanted it too.

Your mother rubbed a hand over her face, exhaustion clear in her posture. “I don’t understand…after everything that happened, why would you even let her get to you?” Because she cornered me. Because she pushed me. Because she saw what I couldn’t admit. But you didn’t say it. “It was a mistake.”

Your own voice sounded hollow. Your father studied you for a long moment, as if he were searching for something between the lines. But then your mother slowly shook her head. “If you drive again…” Her voice was firm. “If you really go back…then that’s it.” The words cut through you like a blade.

“What?”

“Then you’re on your own. You’re completely on your own.”

You looked at her in shock. “That’s not fair-”

“It is.” She said, her gaze steady, sharp. “Because we’re not doing this again. We almost lost you once. Almost buried you. I will not sit back and watch you put yourself in danger again.”

It felt like the air had been sucked out of your lungs. You knew they were worried. You knew, to them, this was never just a sport, it was the thing that almost took their child from them. But this? This was an ultimatum.

“This isn’t fair!” you muttered, your hands clenched into fists beneath the table. “Life isn’t fair.” your father said simply. And that was the end of the discussion. Silence settled over the table, thick and suffocating. Your food tasted like nothing. Slowly, you stood up, pushing your chair back. “I’m tired.”

“Y/n-”

“Good night.” You left them at the table, feeling their stares on your back as you climbed the stairs. As soon as your door closed behind you, you collapsed onto the bed, rubbing your hands over your face. Damn it. You had never been this angry before. Not just at them. At yourself. Because a part of you knew your mother was right. But another part…Another part knew it was too late.

Days passed, but you couldn’t shut it off. Every time you were on the track, she was in your head. When you walked through your front door, you thought you’d finally get a quiet afternoon. No cars. No Natasha. Just you. “Do you really think she’s happy?”

You froze in the doorway. Your fingers tightened around your keys. Slowly, almost unwillingly, you stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind you. The voices were coming from the living room. You could hear your mother, upset, almost pleading. Your father? Silent. And then..Natasha. She was here. Oh, hell.

You forced your legs to move, following the sounds into the living room. And when you turned the corner, you saw the scene before you. Your mother sat on the couch, arms crossed, lips pressed into a thin line. Your father stood by the window, hands in his pockets, his shoulders tense.

And in the middle of the room, completely relaxed, as if she belonged there, sat Natasha. She had one leg crossed over the other, hands resting loosely on the armrests. Her posture was calm, controlled..but her eyes? Her eyes were ice. She knew she wasn’t welcome here. But she sat there like it didn’t matter. Your mother shot her a withering glare. “My daughter is happy! She chose to leave this madness behind.”

Natasha blinked slowly. Then she looked at your father. “And you? Do you believe that?” Your stomach twisted. Your father said nothing. He had been silent the entire time. Your mother had been the one who stayed at your bedside after the crash. The one who held your hand when the doctors said you might never walk again. The one who swore you’d never sit in a cockpit again.

But your father? He had accepted it. Never questioned your decision. Supported you, but never really talked about it. Now, he looked at you. Not at Natasha. You. And in his eyes, you saw something you didn’t expect. He was searching for an answer. Your throat felt dry.

“Dad..” you murmured. “Tell her to leave.” But he didn’t. Natasha studied him carefully. Her voice was quiet, almost gentle. “You know, don’t you? You see it.”

His brow furrowed. “See what?”

“That she’s lying to herself.”

His jaw tightened, but he said nothing. “Look at her.” Natasha continued, still watching him. “You say she’s moved on. That she’s chosen to stop racing. But do you really believe that? Or is that just the story you tell yourself so you don’t have to worry anymore?”

“Stop this..” your mother snapped. “She made her decision. You act like you know her better than her own family!”

Natasha slowly turned her head. Her gaze was hard, but not angry. Just cold. Precise. “I don’t know her better.” she said. “But I know what I saw yesterday. And that was not someone who quit.”

Your hands curled into fists. “It was a mistake.”

“Then why are you still thinking about it?”

Silence. You could hear your mother take a deep breath, her fingers clenched around the glass on the coffee table. “I don’t understand you..” she whispered. “Why are you doing this? Why won’t you just leave her alone?”

“Because she can’t.” Natasha said simply. Your breath caught. “People like her don’t just stop.” Natasha continued, her voice now quiet, intense. “They can try. They can tell themselves it’s over, that they can live a different life. But deep down, they know better.”

Her gaze shifted back to you. “You know better.” Your heart pounded. Your nails dug into your palms. “No.”

Natasha tilted her head slightly. “Yes.” She reached into the inside of her bag, pulled out a folder, and placed it slowly on the coffee table. “This.” she said calmly, “is a contract.” You stared at it as if it were a weapon. “A seat. A team. A new chance.” Natasha continued. “You don’t have to take it. I won’t force you.”

Your mother sucked in a sharp breath. “You don’t seriously expect-”

“No.” Natasha interrupted her. “I don’t expect anything, Mrs. Y/l/n.” Her eyes were back on you. “But I know what’s going to happen. You’ll ignore it. You’ll pretend you don’t want it. But every night, this damn thing will be in your head. You’ll think about it. About the race. About the feeling. And one day, you won’t be able to deny it anymore.”

Your pulse roared in your ears. Your mother shook her head vehemently. “Please leave now..” Your father still said nothing. He was looking at you. And you knew that he knew. That he had always known. You didn’t want it. You really didn’t. But you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

And Natasha knew it. “Take the contract.” Natasha said quietly. “Or tear it up. But if you do, do it because you’re sure. Not because you’re afraid.” You swallowed hard. Your hands trembled slightly as you reached for the folder. But you didn’t open it. You turned away. And without another word, you left the room. The contract felt heavy in your hand. Behind you, complete silence.

Then, you heard Natasha stand up. “I won’t try to convince you again.” she said calmly. “But I promise you one thing. If you tear it up, it won’t go away. This feeling. It will never leave you alone.”

You exhaled shakily. Heard the front door open. Heard it close again. And then Natasha was gone. You stood in the darkness of the hallway, the paper still in your fingers. You wanted to get rid of it. You wanted to ignore it. But your hands wouldn’t move. Because you knew Natasha was right.

-

-

-

-

Part 2

[wandasaura]

PAINTED ALL MY NIGHTS

summary — your mommy was mean, but your daddy could be downright cruel. it makes for an interesting night when they both decide to leave you wanting until you’re not sure how much more teasing you can take, and even then, they’re not going to give in easily

warning(s) — established relationship, daddy kink, mommy kink, mild pet play, dumbification, humiliation, degradation, praise, teasing, butt plugs, dry humping, shoe humping, inspection kink, oral, fingering, choking, crying, pussy spanking, mentions of chastity belts, begging, orgasm control/denial, edging, overstimulation, forced orgasms, squirting, oral fixation (brief), finger sucking, ¿arousal tasting?, mean mommy wanda, cruel daddy natty, aftercare, men/minors dni

A soft current of chilled air swept beneath the thick desk your body remained crammed beneath, adding goosebumps to the array of blemishes against your satin skin. How you’d managed to acquire a collage of bruises on your shins wasn’t quite a mystery, but like a canvas speckled with vibrant acrylic paints, the evidence of their existence was undeniable and honestly laughable. The summer heat was thick, falling over your quaint little town as if its intention was purely to suffocate those that resided near the shorelines of New Jersey, but even beneath an office desk, curled into a tight ball, head resting on plush thighs the color of warm sand, the low thrum of the air conditioner remained a steady presence keeping you cool. A hum, softer than a whisper stolen in a overstimulating crowd, slipped off your lips when manicured fingers the color of divine cherries embedded themselves within your undone hair, scratching tenderly at your scalp that had yearned for attention since you’d wiggled your way underneath the desk your girlfriend worked at. That was how you’d acquired so many faint yet assuredly purple bruises, crawling across wooden floorboards and banging your limbs on hard wooden corners just trying to be close to the women that you love. 

Your eyes, a beautiful definition of color that had somehow become the lifeline your girlfriends hadn’t known they’d been missing until they met you, looked up, just barely able to steal a glance at the woman working at the desk you sat beneath. Her own eyes, a kaleidoscope of unreplicable blues and greens, were trained to the litany of emails that had collected since the night before when she’d sat in the same place for hours attempting to respond to them all. Perhaps you had been ignorant, but before your world had been remade into what it current is, you’d never given professional trainers much thought; had never dwelled on the profession long enough to consider how in demand they are amongst military units and police squads, but your girlfriend, the one who was just slightly older than the other, had made a name for herself out of that very profession, and each day that she wasn’t stolen from you by obligations to train the cities sharpest officers, she spent an unhealthy amount of hours answering emails that all demanded to know when she was free next, and how far she was willing to travel for her services. 

“You okay down there, puppy?” The tone of her voice was low, and admittedly husky from minimal use throughout the endless day that had befallen you, but equally soft as it fell against your attention deprived heart and showered you in warmth that wasn’t nearly as cruel as the unwavering heat that plagued the streets of West View. A sweet blush fell over your cheeks, a strangled whine slipping off your lips as you rocked your hips against the wooden floorboards, searching for something more; something adamantly forbidden. “Use your words, please.” 

With a displeased grunt, your brain foggy despite the little action your wanting body had seen since you’d woken up tangled within cold bed sheets, you pieced together a simple sentence, direct enough to convey your desperation, but just sweet enough that your workaholic girlfriend would forgive your bluntness easily. “Want you.” It was so simple, so telling, so pure, and yet it wouldn’t be enough to convince her and you knew that. Your Mommy was mean, that was an unchanging factor in your sexual endeavors, but your Daddy could be downright cruel if she felt like it. 

Another hum filled the air, though hers was prominent, filled with simple dominance that made your belly coil in unattainable pleasure and fear. “Is that so?” She chided, not tearing her gaze away from her desktop screen for even a second to take in the sight of you curled up so sweetly in a ball by her feet. Had she looked down, taken just a simple glance at your disheveled state, she would’ve noticed the dark patch adorning the center of your cotton panties, she would’ve noticed the way your pebbled nipples poked through the thin tank top clinging to your torso in an effortlessly enticing manor, she would’ve noticed your desperation glazed eyes and arousal flush cheeks, but she didn’t, and you knew that it was purposeful. She was diminishing you to be nothing but her brainless pet, and as hard as you fought to stay coherent and clear-minded throughout her trickery, it was working too well. 

You’d known the game she was wanting to play since she’d coaxed you into taking one of the fancier plugs that had been purchased for your puckered hole early that mid-morning. You’d been eager to play, wiggling your hips and pushing back on the fingers that gently worked you open at a pace so slow it rivaled drying paint, but she’d found restraint since the last time you’d played this game, and patience was ever so slowly ebbing away from your wanting body. A whine, high pitched and entirely petulant fell off of your lips when nothing was given to you in the aftermath of her taunt. You rooted harder against the light oak floorboards, bracing your palms mere inches in front of your body, hoping that the balanced pressure would provide you relief, but all you’d accomplished was alerting her of your sneaky actions, and so carelessly a shoe covered foot jutted out to become your undoing. A sob broke through your lips the second her shoe nestled itself between your trembling thighs, giving you a silent ultimatum that unfortunately, you weren’t desperate enough to take up just yet. The unspoken demand was simple; ride her shoe or stop whining, but humiliation was engraved in the degrading task, and your brain, a helpless pile of submissive mush, hadn’t been undone quite enough to take the bait. 

Settling back against the floorboards like you’d been prior to your short-lived act of defiance, her shoe a bulky presence beneath your body giving just enough pleasure to not be forgotten about entirely, you dropped your flush cheek to her upper-shin once more, nipping at her unblemished skin in frustration. Her fingers were quick to reprimand you, nestling into your undone hair and pulling sharply, giving you no ounce of grace despite being the cause of your misbehaving. 

Another hour passed after that without so much as a glance in your direction, and then another, and then another, until the sun was sinking beneath the shorelines of New Jersey being replaced by moonlight that glimmered against every reflective surface in the home office. Your girlfriend, the artist, was due home soon. She’d been called away to her gallery early, preparations for a mid-season showcase taking up most of her time nowadays, but you could always count on her comforting presence before the canvas of sunset could melt away entirely. You whined as you shifted against the floors, rocking your sopping cunt into your girlfriend's shoe incidentally, an electric pulse of pleasure shooting up your spine and tangling into the center of your belly where one off sparks had been shooting off at for hours. It hadn’t been intentional, your only intention had been to relieve your aching bones for a few simple seconds, but instead you found yourself tethered to the source of pleasure you found despite the humiliation that just barely crossed your mind, and again, your hips rocked, and again, pleasure shot through you like a bullet train. 

If your girlfriend noticed how you humped her shoe and clung to her leg and whined and whimpered and twitched with pleasure, which she most definitely did, nothing was said. There was no demand to stop that followed your curious movements, no assurance that despite your disgusting act you were good, so good, no verbal humiliation regarding how disgustingly needy your brainless pussy was. There was nothing, and the lack of attention only brought forth a new wave of discomfort. You cried out helplessly, uncoordinated movements becoming sloppy and desperate, but the tears that spilled down your cheeks like tantalizing rivulets did nothing to interfere with her concentration. It was becoming equally too much and not enough, the game was becoming less fun, less enticing, but you wanted her, and you needed her, and you hoped that eventually, before your thoughts spiraled so deep into despair that only Wanda could pull you back up, that she would notice. 

Miraculously, she did. When your grinding slowed, and your sobs intensified, and you weren’t sure if you were trembling as a result of found pleasure or desperation for her, she reached down, corralling you into her lap with gentle movements and tender touches. Your sodden panties dragged along the thin material of her biker shorts, and with a mind of their own, your hips searched for relief against her, grinding and humping and wiggling so intensely that the chair rocked in time with your movements. Your face found peace in the shallowest pit of her neck, lips sucking marks onto her smooth skin, tears dampening strands of hair that had become trapped between your body and hers. 

“Such a good girl, I have. The best girl. The best puppy.” She cooed softly, her fingers holding tightly to your waist, guiding your movements with leisure, inching you closer and closer to an explosion of relief that would have you falling deep into a pit of paralyzing submission for hours. When her other hand, the one that had never been laid against your waist, dipped further down, gliding against your spine until it reached the swell of your ass, you realized just briefly that this had been the end goal the entire time. She wanted you pliable in her hands, she wanted you so desperate that despite your conflicting emotions you sought pleasure from her simple body. A sharp moan fell into the air when soft fingers pressed against the plug nestled between the globes of your ass. The plug, a heart shaped jewel the color of your favorite shade of pink, pressed into you firmly, not entirely dissimilar to how it had pressed into you when you sat flush against the floorboards, but there was an added spark now that her fingers were the one provoking such sensations. “No, you don’t get to cum. Just feel it, pretty puppy. Just enjoy how good Daddy’s making you feel.” She was quick to reaffirm that forbidden rule, and your tears were quick to start again, blubbering sobs and pleas falling off your lips and you ground your clothed core into hers, your clit catching on the waistband of her biker shorts each time she guided you higher. 

“My my, what’s going on in here?” Another voice, a softer voice, broke through the heavy fog restricting your mind from fully recognizing what’s happening around you. You hadn’t heard the front door close, hadn’t heard her heels clanking against the floorboards as she discarded her blazer in the living room and set her thermos of coffee down on the kitchen island, you hadn’t heard her kick off her stilettos by the stairs before she padded her way up to Natasha’s office. You hadn’t heard any of it, but you heard her now, and you reached for her with determination, your face flush and damp with tears that your Daddy was far too proud to have been the result of. 

“M-Mommy!” You sobbed weakly, sparks of pleasure still paralyzing you in place on Natasha’s lap, however with Wanda home now, with your Mommy present, you could only hope that relief would make its way to your pulsating clit quickly. She never could resist the sight of your tear stained face, even if Natasha found it delectable. Mommy was hard, she was firm and she was ruthless, but at the end of the day you were just her precious little baby eager for attention and she was more than happy to give you that. It was Daddy’s puppy that could endure the wrath of denial and endless teasing, but now, your brain lingered on the verge of two headspaces that clashed so violently it was as if two separate people resided within your desires and neither one was ready to relinquish control, and your overstimulated, underwhelmed body wasn’t quite sure where to settle in the aftermath of such an emotionally charged lead up to this moment. Everything was too much, but nothing was enough to state the desire burning holes into your judgment. Natasha had broken you. That had been the game all along, you were just too naive to realize until now. You’d played the part of a dumb puppy seamlessly, grinding on her shoe, on her lap, biting at her legs and at her neck… you’d been the perfect puppy for a few agonizing hours, but now you were ready to be Mommy’s baby; her spoiled little princess. 

“Oh no, Mommy’s not going to save you now, little minx. You look so pretty making a mess on your Daddy’s lap.” Wanda’s laugh was your favorite sound. It was sweet and twinged with innocence, despite the hardships that had befallen her in life, but as if fell over you now, as it crashed against your shorelines it was harsh and unforgiving, cold and threateningly eerie. A sob rippled through your chest, and pathetically your head fell against Natasha’s shoulders, your hips fumbling to an abrupt stop as you gave up. It was too much, it was all too much. You needed your Mommy, you wanted your Daddy, you didn’t want to be the one pushing toward an orgasmic explosion of relief. You wanted it done to you, wanted to be their pretty little toy that they used however they pleased, and yet they weren’t giving you that satisfaction. “You need help, is that what this is about? Mommy’s little baby can’t do it on her own?” 

You peeked out from Natasha’s shoulder, beautiful eyes that stole breath from healthy lungs glazed over so heavily that the gleam of moonlight slipping in through the curtains framing the window reflected off of them dazzlingly. You wanted your Mommy, and she had so cruelly refused to help you. A guttural sob slipped off your tongue, and defenselessly you surrendered to Natasha’s persistent touches, your hips twitching of their own volition when she pressed harshly against the base of the plug nestled deep within your puckered hole with addictive strawberry flavored lube. The tank top that clung to your torso was damp with sweat and tears, giving easy sight to your pebbled nipples that rubbed and brushed against Natasha’s chest teasingly. You’d been successfully undone, not a single coherent thought in your head, and yet it wasn’t enough for them, it would never be enough for them. 

“Come here, my darling girl. Let Mommy take a look at what’s bothering you.” Your cheeks, already so tenderly flush that they felt hot to the touch, became alight with nervous energy as you wiggled out of Natasha’s grip and reached out firmly for Wanda, not willing to take her rejection again. It never came, thankfully, and within seconds you were nestled against your Mommy’s chest, breathing in the comforting scent of her perfume and acrylic paints. She preferred oil, but she’d been working on one last canvas that had only felt right to be constructed with vibrant purples and oranges from her acrylic collection. It didn’t matter much to you. Wanda smelt like coming home after a strenuous day, and so intimately you snuggled closer, still sniffling and writhing for pleasure to consume you. 

Her footsteps were soft, practically inaudible as she padded across the wooden floorboards and brought you to the bedroom that hadn’t been seen since you’d come to find Natasha when sunlight was still painting the endless sky a hue of admirable baby blue. Your back met the soft bed sheets when Wanda threw you down, her touch lost for merely a few seconds before thumbs, stained from spilled paint, pried your thighs open, leaving your sodden panties on full display for her to enjoy. A shy whine rippled through your chest as you attempted to close your legs, but all that came of your weak protests was a curt tutt and a firmer hold. 

“My my, sweetheart. Your panties are awfully wet. Mommy can see your little clit just begging for attention right through them. I bet that feels so icky, huh?” She cooed tauntingly, her unmanicured finger falling between your open legs, her paint stained nail tracing the softest line across the expanse of your clothed pussy, merely smearing arousal across the already sodden fabric. A strangled whine caught in your dry throat, your desperate gleam not nearly enough to convince her to relieve you so early on. “Let me have a taste, hm? Let Mommy see what all the fuss is about.” 

Her words alone hadn’t been enough to prepare you for the sensation of a warm tongue flicking curiously against your hardened bud, a mixture of saliva and arousal further dampening your panties as Wanda leaned down to firmly taste your glistening core, her strangled moans of enjoyment sparking sensations deep in your belly that had your eyes fluttered closed and your hips grinding up to find more; more pressure, more stimulation, just more. It was over as soon as it had begun, and a whimpered protest fell into the air as you blindly reached down to grab fistfuls of neatly tamed waves, trying desperately to pull her face back down to where you needed her most. She was unrelenting, smiling down at you so sickeningly sweetly that you yearned to kick her away and roll over in a huff of frustration, but temptation got the better of you, and desperately you rolled your hips against thin air, hoping to seduce her into giving into your desires. 

“M-Mommy! It’s achey!” You babbled desperately, wiggling pathetically against the bedsheets that had seen many strenuous endeavors over the last few months. Just the thought of how many times you’d come apart beneath them on these beige gingham sheets left you desperate, and the thought of adding another orgasm to the collection of passed ones had you panting. 

“Oh, I’m sure it is achey, sweetheart. Your little pussy’s so needy, Mommy might just have to lock her up, huh? She gets you in so much trouble, always crying for attention, always desperate to be full. I think it’s time we teach her how to act, hm?” Wanda continued to coo, all while her fingers rub soft patterns and shapes into the soaked fabric of your pastel pink panties, though the damp patch had turned them a hue so vibrant there’s not a single paint in Wanda’s collection that could match it accurately. You shook your head adamantly at the idea, a sob clawing up your throat at her proposed suggestion, and she laughed. “It’s not up to you what Mommy does, little girl. You’ll just take it like a good girl, won’t you? You’ll let Mommy do whatever she wants to you?” 

You couldn’t help but nod, blubbering into your hands that had come to hide your face at some point between her lips on your clothed core and her fingers tracing minuscule details. You whined when she spread your legs further, painfully aware of how your clit throbbed and pulsated against the fabric of your panties, enough for her to take notice and flick her fingers against your sensitive bud in tune with its rhythmic beating. A open palm slap was the sensation that startled you, and a pathetic whimper filled the room as your eyes shot open and you witnessed Natasha standing beside Wanda, her eyes trained on your core, her palm glistening despite the barrier between your core and her hand. 

“How many can this slutty puppy take before she comes from a spanking alone?” Her words are directed at Wanda, her attention split between your dazzling girlfriend and your glimmering core. Not an ounce of attention falls on you, from either her nor the artist also filling the space between your open legs. It’s humiliating, entirely dehumanizing, but it fuels your arousal further, and pathetically you grind upwards, hoping to come in contact with her palm once more, even if the touch is harsh and unforgiving. “Looks like the dumb pet wants to find out.” 

The first spank is heavenly, a harsh blow aimed directly at your quivering opening that’s been void of stimulation all day, but the second is cruel, aimed straight at your unsuspecting clit that throbs and pulses in the aftermath of the blow and has you writhing from that intense mix of pain and pleasure. A strangled sob rips your throat apart, your eyes wide and pleading for relief do nothing to soften Natasha’s reserve, and again she strikes you between your legs, and again your core reacts before your brain can catch up to what’s happening. It’s by the sixth that you can feel it happening. Your legs are shaking, trembling, fighting to close but Wanda holds them open and leaves you vulnerable to the assault. Your chest is rising and falling so fast that your breath comes out in strained pants. Your eyes are shut, fingers holding fistfuls of bed sheets that do nothing to ease your panic. You’re close, so close, one last hit and you’re falling over the edge into bliss that’s been sought after for days. It doesn’t come. That’s exactly what you’d been dreading, the edging. The signs had been painted across Natasha’s face since she pulled you up into her lap and had reaffirmed that you weren’t allowed to cum, but now it’s fallen over top of you like a bucket of ice water and it’s too much. It’s too much and it’s not enough and you can’t control yourself when you sob and kick at them, wriggling around like bed like the plush sheets beneath your hands will be any comfort. 

“Please please please please! No Daddy! No! No no no! Please! Please! P-Please! Been good! I-I’ve been good! Been a good girl! Pl-Please!” Your words are a barely coherent jumble of sobs, and you’re faintly aware of Wanda attempting to coax you back into place, but all that dwells on you is the constant denial of relief, of attention, of affection. It’s too much, and you’re so desperate, and you’ve been so good, and you know that you’ve been good. Why isn’t that enough? Why can’t it be enough? “Wanna cum! Please! Please Mommy! Please! Please I was good! I sat with Daddy and-and I kept the plug in and I-I was good! Mommy I was good! Please! No more teasing! No more! Please! I can’t! I can’t-”

You’re faintly aware of the bed dipping beneath the presence of another body, but only when Natasha’s firm hands cup your cheeks do you realize that she’s cuddled up beside you and her hands are tenderly brushing away rivulets of perspiration and tears from your face. She kisses you sweetly, slowly, savoring the sight of you so undone from their simple touches, but there’s an etch of concern entangled with her captivating features, enough to tell you that it’s ending, it’s finally ending. 

“Do you need to safeword?” She asks tenderly, brushing strands of unruly hair away from your damp face. There’s no sight of disappointment, of underlying anger, just genuine care and concern, which has been all you wanted for hours. 

You shake your frantically, soft cries slipping into the silence once again. The thought of losing them after enduring so much just to get that blissful reward of an orgasm has you scrambling to make sense of your feelings, but they’ve jumbled your brain, fried your independence. You’re at their mercy until you regain their bearings, all you can manage is a soft, frantically whispered. “J-Just want you. P-Please! I’ve been good!” 

“You’ve been so good, malyshka. So so good. My best girl. Let Mommy help you now, hm? Let her make all the aches go away.” Natasha speaks to you tenderly, resigning from her role as cruel daddy for the night, content to simply lay by your side, a reassuring presence as you prepare to submit to your Mommy. 

Wanda works your panties off softly, caressing your thighs as she brushes against them, taking in the sight of your cunt, bare of coarse hair and blemishes, looking absolutely delectable as it glimmers beneath soft ambient lighting and undiluted moonlight. Nobody had thought to turn the lights on when they entered, but the soft night light in the corner of the room provided more than necessary as she lowered her lips to your clit and didn’t hold back. 

The first suckle at your overstimulated bud was euphoric, and your back arched high off the mattress as you scrambled to twist your fingers into her hair, desperate to keep her close to your core though she wouldn’t have pulled away regardless of your persistence. She laps at you with intensity, using her paint stained fingers to hold your lower lips apart and dig right into her meal without care for how harsh or animalistic she appears, her nose bumps your clit as her lips moved south, her tongue poking into your weeping entrance and attempting to drink the arousal that had pooled there after hours of being trapped beneath thin panties. When her fingers slip into you, two to be exact, you can’t control your whines and moans, and so profusely you beg for permission to fall off the edge of the cliff and drown yourself in orgasmic bliss that rivals the chill of ocean waves in summertime. 

“Go ahead. Let go, baby girl. Make a mess on Mommy’s fingers. You can cum, it’s okay. You can let go now. You did such a good job, such a good job, my angel.” Natasha whispers into the darkness of the bedroom, her lips flush against your temple as she works you up more, her fingers pulling and twisting at your nipples still hidden beneath a sweat drenched tank-top. You feel disgusting, sticky and slick with sweat and tears, but it’s not enough to pull you away from this moment, and when her hand, the one that hadn’t been permanently glued to your breasts, found your throat, nor squeezing but applying just enough pressure that it reaffirmed her gentle dominance over you, you gave into the orgasm that had been begging to be unleashed. 

You didn’t have time to come down from that first high before Wanda was doubling her efforts between your legs, her fingers jackhammering into your entrance as her tongue traced circles and flicked at your once deprived bud of nerves. You shrieked, whining so petulantly that Natasha cooed sweetly against your temple and continued her gentle movements against your tits, pulling your tank top up just enough to reveal them to the cool breeze that swept through the room, accompanied by the low thrum of the air conditioner. 

“No more! N-no more!” You attempted to squirm away from the undeniable pleasure Wanda was provoking, but to no avail did you succeed, weakened from hours of crying and arousal. Natasha remained by your side as Wanda scratched at your thigh and hips with the fingers that weren’t knuckles deep inside of your cunt, leaving faint pink marks in the wake of her grip and touch. 

“You wanted to cum, puppy. You wanted Mommy to make you cum, so now you’re going to take it, okay? Can you do that?” Natasha hummed softly, kissing you again, an easy method of distracting you though you didn’t protest, eagerly reciprocating the kiss and assuring that her own world was painted in vibrant colors for the few seconds that she allowed your tongue to tangle with hers. “Good girl. My good girl. You’re doing so well. So well for Mommy.” She coaxed you through the second orgasm that tore through your belly at an accelerated pace, just barely able to contain her surprise as your core released an onslaught of juices aimed straight at Wanda’s face. A cry of humiliation left you, but it was soothed quickly by the woman between your legs, her tongue soothing the ache in your clit before it was gone entirely. 

“Shh, we’re all done. All done.” Wanda’s mouth shone brightly beneath the moonlight with your arousal, her chin dripping as she leaned above you, offering her fingers which you eagerly took into her mouth. The taste of your core was prominent, familiar as you’d been in this position a few hundred times over, but it brought peace to your hazy mind and you melted firmly into Natasha now. “You did so good for me, my little princess. So so good. Mommy’s so proud of you.” She kissed you softly, replacing her fingers with her tongue that tasted so prominently of your orgasm and arousal that you couldn’t help the whine of submission that filled the air. 

“What can I get you, princess? How about some goldfish because I’m sure Natasha didn’t take a break for lunch like I told her to.” Wanda sent a pointed glare at Natasha, who bashfully shrunk into herself and shrugged half-heartedly. Lunch had most definitely slipped her mind, and she cursed beneath her breath when she realized you’d put up a fit if she tried to drag you downstairs for dinner. 

“Mommy stay.” You whined, attempting to reach out and pull Wanda down onto your body, but Natasha had already seen that coming, and had tangled her fingers with yours. 

“Mommy will be back so soon, pretty baby. She’s going to get you some fishies and a water, and she’s going to grab your favorite blanket from downstairs, and Daddy’s gonna wipe you down and get you dressed in some comfy pajamas. How does that sound?” Natasha easily directed Wanda to gather all of the things you’d undoubtably ask for in a few minutes when the haze of your submission lessened and your tired muscles became apparent. The Sokovian didn’t linger, instead she jumped straight into action, leaving one last kiss against your lips before she disappeared downstairs, hoping you had enough energy to get at least a couple of crackers into your body before you fell asleep. 

You only agreed because you hadn’t really had a choice to begin with, but still Natasha worked with your fussy attitude and got you wiped down with a damp washcloth and redressed in pajamas that were really just stolen pieces of her and Wanda’s casual attire. When the Sokovian returned, your favorite cup in her hands filled to the brim with room temperature water, you were cuddled into Natasha’s chest, biting softly at her fingertips as she attempted to keep you awake, some animated movie playing on the tv screen above the dresser on the wall opposite the large bed you occupied. She smiled softly, throwing a protein bar at Natasha’s head, before she took you into her arms, cuddling you into her chest, wrapping you tightly in your favorite throw blanket. 

You nuzzled into her chest, begrudgingly taking a sip of water when she held the straw up to your lips persistently. It soothed your scratchy throat instantaneously, subsequently allowing your previous hours of screaming and moaning to become a distant memory until tomorrow morning when you woke without a voice. The goldfish she did not get so lucky with, offering a small handful to you as you zoned into the sound of her heath beating rhythmically beneath your ear and focused on the kaleidoscope of colors morphing across the tv screen. You whined, wiggling away from her hand rather fussily, and she knew better than to agitate you farther, so rather than keep persisting, she ate them herself and pulled you in closer, her heart and soft whispering to Natasha lulling you to sleep in minutes. 

“You really have to stop forgetting to eat lunch.” Wanda sighed amusedly, bringing up the age-old concern that had a near prominent spot in their conversation log. Natasa laughed sheepishly, one hand falling onto the small of your back as you turned further into Wanda’s chest, while the other reached to turn off the obnoxious film you strangely adored. 

“It’s not my fault when this one decides to camp out beneath my desk.” She weakly defended, laying a tender kiss to the back of your head, your hair smelling faintly of the shampoo she kept in the upstairs shower. 

“Oh sure, blame her because she’s not awake to defend herself.” Wanda retorted, rolling her eyes in exasperated fondness as she tangled her fingers into your still disheveled hair, hoping that when morning rolled around, you’d still be soft enough to request that she did your hair before she left for the gallery. 

Natasha paused, a wrinkle of affection twinging her expression before she leaned forward and embraced Wanda in a tender kiss above your head. “I love you.” 

“I love you.” Wanda hummed against her lips, letting her eyes flutter closed as she took in the simplicity of this moment with the both of you.

[animasola86]

F o r g e t f u l 🎀 1 / 4

Your roommate has a dirty secret - you. The only problem is: you can't remember anything about that. And there might be even more problems when you realize just what kind of relationship you have with her.

a dominant woman X a submissive girl with a memory problem

WARNINGS: F!Reader-insert! NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Mistress/pet. Domme/sub. Memory loss. Manipulation. Gaslighting. Praise kink. Dubcon elements. Fingering. Sex toys. Object insertion. Bondage. (More tags on AO3.) WORDS: 5.5k

A/N: Remember: if these tags are not for you, you better turn back now! If you know my other stories, you may be used to my very explicit writing style, but this is still some of the darker stuff, somewhat. It's rough, but there is an actual wlw story buried beneath the depravity, I swear! And: THIS IS FICTION! Nobody got hurt in the making of this series. (By the way, the header is just for aesthetics, it's up to you to decide how Mistress looks like and obviously Reader looks however you want to insert her. I tried my best to keep her neutral.) Another note on the fandom tags: I write characters who could be anyone, so I thought about some kick-ass ladies who may fit the role here. I'm sorry this is not about your favorite character, but maybe it can still somewhat fit? Give it a try :)

1 🎀 2 🎀 3 🎀 4

You're staring at the pictures with your lips parted and trembling, your cheeks warm, a strange tingle in your nape. Your hands are shaking as you file through the prints. They look weirdly professional, good lighting, even better angles, the background is blurry while the focus lies directly on...

You.

It's you in those photographs, you in various positions, you in different outfits... or with nothing at all hiding your curves. Some pictures are just showing certain body parts, some angles you've never seen of yourself, some more flattering than others.

But whatever you see, you can't hide the fact that it arouses you. It's not the subject, you're usually quite self-conscious about taking nudes of yourself (even though you gotta admit that these look quite well made, so surreal that you feel almost proud of yourself), it's actually two things that make your core throb:

One: you are in clearly compromising positions, bent over with your legs spread wide, on your back, bound to the bed with cuffs around your wrists and ankles, or tied up with soft-looking rope in intricate patterns, your body composed in ways you haven't thought possible (or comfortable).

And two: you are always stuffed. There are various objects sticking out of both your cunt and your ass, sometimes there's even something in your mouth that's held open by a spider gag. It varies too, not all holes are occupied all the time, all at once, in some pictures it's just one and it's particularly stuffed and stretched (is that an eggplant?).

Your body reacts more and more as you flip through the thick printed paper. The worst thing about it all:

You can't remember a goddamn thing!

Shame and arousal course through you as you stare at yourself. But you can't put them down, can't stop. In this photo, you're wearing a black leather harness that accentuates your breasts. You're standing, with wide legs, a spreader bar attached to your ankles. You're blindfolded, your arms tied behind your back. It's a series of pictures, you realize.

First from the front, then from the back (your ass cheeks look great with how they're pushed up by the leather straps). You notice something shiny between them: a butt plug with a sparkly diamond base. It's glowing, or blinking as you see in the next picture where the light is gone.

Your insides convulse a little, your muscles clenching around nothing. It's like looking at porn, but you can't ignore the familiarity about the body portrayed. It is undoubtedly yours.

But then again: you've never had anything up your ass, not in your conscious state at least. But here (and in those other pics) you have, and the next print even shows a close-up of the plug in your ass. It's a strangely aesthetic photo considering the unflattering motif and angle, but it certainly does things to you. Though you can't be sure if the tension in your stomach comes from embarrassment, excitement or sheer terror at the revelation that somebody took these pictures of you – and you can't even remember it.

Swallowing hard, you pry your eyes from the prints, your hands still shaking, as you look around the room. Somebody can only be one person. Your gaze scrapes over the shelves around you, full of camera equipment, old-fashioned film containers next to a plastic box full of SD-cards, various lenses and other extras, and then the cameras themselves, three at least, behind glass doors, kept away, like the pictures you found in a large brown envelope hiding in a drawer.

You've been looking for some hair ties, an innocent search, knowing your roommate wouldn't mind, but now you feel as if you've stepped into a different world, uncovering secrets you should have never known about. Even if they are about you.

Taking a shuddering breath, you look back at the pictures in your hands, your cheeks positively aflame now as you trace the blurry lines of your body before the focus shifts to a close-up of your cunt, shiny and reddened, your clit swollen, with black clamps attached to your pussy lips, thin metal chains disappearing off to the sides, holding your folds open while something black and girthy vanishes into your body.

The next pictures show a white-gloved hand gripping the base of the dildo, and you flip quicker through the sheets to create the motion, seeing the toy going in and out of your cunt, guided by the anonymous hand, spreading your core, diving in to retreat with an extra layer of shine before disappearing again, and as you stare at the prints, you can almost feel it moving inside you, a faint memory as your muscles clench and unclench, your arousal building up before it drips into your underwear.

You are torn between being very horny upon seeing these pictures and utterly disturbed. If you could only remember these scenes, then it wouldn't be as bad. But you can't. There's nothing, only fog that slips through your mind's imaginary fingers as you try to catch it, as you try to make sense of this. You feel your heart beating faster while your eyes tear up from staring unblinkingly at the prints in your hands.

This can't be real. Confusion merges with betrayal, your belly feels tense, your heart clenches in rhythm with your walls, your throat closes up as the first tear spills from your lashes.

You let go of the pictures, watching them scatter over the desk and down to the floor, every angle of your body on display, every inch captured in embarrassing detail, your holes filled or gaping, your mouth gagged or stuffed or open, there's drool, there are tears, there's wetness glistening on your skin in almost every shot. Your eyes may be the scariest part staring up at you. They're either glazed over, unfocused, or rolled back and hooded, some bloodshot, some watery, and some look almost defiant, a moment captured in time where you seemingly fought back?

The ones where you're blindfolded are the least terrifying, those are the ones where you can dissociate, where you can imagine somebody else being tied to whatever surfaces there are, tables, benches, beds, chairs, artfully presented, where it's just a body, clad in sexy lingerie and high heels, or adorned with ropes, or in the moments after where the skin is dented by the intricate patterns left behind by the ties.

The close-ups are also getting to you. You've never seen your own cunt or ass up close like this, so again, it could be anyone's holes filled and spread and used by various objects. The sheer amount and variety of them is quite concerning. But it's the unconventional ones that make you shiver, that create that tension in your stomach. The cucumber pushed deep into your ass so only its thinner stalk or whatever its called pokes out. The wide eggplant parting your labia in an obscene fashion, its entire body stuffed into your cunt, creating a slight bulge in your lower stomach.

There's another stack of photos atop a large envelope (the whole drawer seems to be dedicated to just you), and your curiosity gets the better of you after all. It's a series of pictures showing different round objects pushed into your holes. From marbles to ping pong balls to actual tennis balls, they're all shown vanishing into either your ass or your cunt, pushed by a delicate finger clad in a white glove, one after the other, and you can only assume how many would actually fit. It's not a video, you can't be sure, but you can imagine whoever did this to you didn't stop at just one.

Indeed they didn't, as the next photo shows. Another set of hands, also wearing white gloves, is grabbing your ass cheeks and pulling them apart, making your sphincter wink at the camera, before, in the next shot, your hole is gaping, allowing a strange view inside, rosy flesh stuffed with white little balls (you can see at least three, but more are hinted at behind them). You feel a little sick looking at the rest of the series of pictures, where they come back out as your hole puckers, pushing and pushing.

Your body reacts in earnest, your muscles clenching around nothing, deep shivers crashing down your spine. You flip past more of these kinds of photos, until you stop when you see white-gloved fingers poking at your cunt, spreading your lips, gathering your slick that glistens on the surface of the latex gloves, and you let out an audible gasp when the next picture doesn't show them push in, but shows only a wrist (attached to a slender arm) poking out of your stretched hole, gripped by tight skin, suggesting the entire hand is stuck inside you.

Your stomach gives a nervous growl at the sight, your breath hitching in your throat. You swallow thickly, your nostrils flaring as you force yourself to breathe through your nose to calm yourself. The stack of pictures shakes in your hands as you flip through more extreme insertions, more vegetables, some fruits, an entire apple made it up your cunt apparently, while they went from using one cucumber in your ass to at least three, stretching your rim impossibly wide. The sight alone makes your asshole clench violently, and you wonder why you never felt sore after being stuffed so full and spread so wide.

But your body seemingly adjusted, returned to its former state, unharmed, giving no hints at what actually happened to you. Strange. It's almost as if this happened to somebody else after all. But it didn't. It is your body. You may not know your cunt or ass up close, but you recognize the rest, your boobs, your arms, your belly, your legs, your feet, the birthmarks that make you you. It is you in these pictures, in every single one.

Only you.

A strangled sob escapes you as you look over the desk, seeing more and more envelopes, hiding in plain sight, more prints, some smaller, some bigger, all filled with motifs of your body being used in various fashions, one more degrading than the next. Shame settles low in your stomach, like a heavy weight that makes it hard to breathe. Your head is spinning, blood rushing in your ears so loudly you are startled back into reality as you suddenly hear the creaking of the door.

Footsteps follow, before someone clears their throat.

You whip around, dropping the last pictures you were holding, more shots of your stuffed cunt, wet and glistening as it's assaulted by more household items. Your eyes widen when you see your roommate in the door frame, a smug smile on her beautiful face as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Oh hi,” she says in a nonchalant tone, tilting her head. “What are you doing here, pet?” she adds, and you frown at the nickname, a strange sensation crashing through your nerves.

“I... uh... I was looking for...” you stammer, taking a step away from the desk and the mess you made by dropping all those prints. “A hair tie,” you whisper breathlessly, curling your shaking hands into fists as you stare at her. “What... what are these? Did you take them?” you then ask, your voice trembling as much as your shoulders while you look from her back to the discriminating evidence you found by accident.

Your roommate sighs, unfolding her arms as she walks towards you. She's taller than you, slender and still curvy in the right places, her long hair falling over her slim shoulders. You force yourself to look into her eyes and not get distracted by the cleavage her tight dress creates or how close she is. She stops right in front of you, looking down, a softer looking smile curling her full lips.

“You know I did,” she says quietly, reaching up a hand to caress your cheek with the back of her finger. You shiver under the touch, but don't flinch away. “You agreed to this, remember?”

“No,” you breathe out, blinking quickly as you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

She clicks her tongue, shaking her head. “Shh, it's okay, pet, don't worry. You did. I would never do anything to harm you,” she whispers, leaning closer until you feel her hot breath on your lips. “You wanted to be my muse, you begged me for it,” she adds, biting her lip sensually before leaning in to press her warm mouth to the corner of yours.

You stiffen, eyes widening, your heart nearly exploding in your chest. You can't remember any of this. Why is she saying that? She is just your roommate!

You moved in only a few months ago, replying to an ad you saw on the bulletin board of your college dorm. A cheap room in a good neighborhood, your own room, away from the distractions of having to live with people you don't like or know that well, it sounded too good to be true. But it was true, and the woman looking for roommates was so nice, so enticing. You met her at a neutral place, to get to know her (fall for her charm), before she showed you the apartment, and you moved in later that week.

It was perfect. Until it wasn't. Not that you noticed it right away. You just never saw her. Now that you thought about it, you can only (barely) remember going to your classes (you are still going to your classes, right?), while the rest of the day is somewhat of a blur. You can't, however, remember going to your job at the coffee shop (do you still have a job? How are you paying for this place?), and the more you try to remember, the more holes come up, black and all-consuming.

You frown as you stare at her. She leans back slowly, watching you. Her hand is on your face, the pointy nail of her thump scraping over your bottom lip as her long fingers caress the shell of your ear.

“No need to worry, pet,” she says quietly, her voice a low soft thrum, rich like honey, that tickles something inside you that you've fought all your life. Why does she keep calling you 'pet'? And why does it affect you so much? “Everything is just fine. And I'm not even mad that you just went into my room like this. I told you you shouldn't, didn't I?”

You swallow as she lowers her hand and closes it around your throat, giving it a gentle squeeze. You feel your pulse throbbing against her palm. “I'm sorry,” you gasp out.

She smiles at you, moving her hand even lower, teasing her fingertips along the neckline of your shirt. “It's okay. You know the consequences. It'll be fine.” You furrow your eyebrows, breathing harder, not understanding anything. “Not the first time, hm?” she adds, giving you a wink. Her words make no sense, your head is hurting with how tight you pull your eyebrows together, and with all the thoughts and questions whirling about in a wild dance of confusion.

“I... I don't –”

“Shh,” she shushes you, her hand gripping your chin. You freeze. “Be a good pet and go back to your room. I'll clean this up. Put on the clothes I chose for you. Wait for me when you're done. Do you understand?”

You stare at her, your body tensing up, your cunt clenching hard around nothing. Her words, the cadence of her voice, the dominant tone, it all brings you to do one thing, your mind emptying as words spill from your trembling lips. “Yes, Mistress.”

You don't even know where these came from. Mistress? Pet? What is going on? But your body moves on auto-pilot, your mind swirling, still fighting the confusion, but also easing into a strange void, triggered by words you've heard before, or so it feels, commands you've answered many times in the past.

She lets go of your chin, giving you a warm smile, even though her eyes are dark and somewhat cold, and you nod, bow your head and shuffle out of the room, your legs trembling as you make your way back into your bedroom across the hall.

For a moment you're wondering how you got here, why you're here, but then your gaze falls onto a pile of clothes on your bed. You walk closer, picking up item after item. A short black skirt, pleated, barely long enough to not be considered a belt. A tight tank top, white and almost see-through. A set of fancy black underwear, a lace bra with an intricate flower pattern, a thong of similar design. There's also a pair of sheer black stockings, a garter belt and straps to attach each piece together.

Your stomach tenses at the sight. You've seen these pieces before, in the photos you shouldn't have seen. It's a blur how you put them on, your head spinning, your hands shaking, but you still somehow manage to dress in time before you hear footsteps on the floorboards outside your room. Your heart beats faster, your chest heaving, tight in the bra and top, straining, something cold crashing down your spine before it gathers hot and pulsing right between your legs.

Before the creaking of the door announces your roommate, you suddenly fall to your knees, your feet tucked under your rear, your hands automatically finding purchase in your lap, folded neatly as you stretch your back and square your shoulders, breathing deep as you train your eyes straight ahead, waiting for the door to open. You have no idea what made you assume this position, why it feels so familiar, so safe in a way.

Your roommate (your Mistress) enters your bedroom, her high heels thudding over the carpet as she walks up to you, tilting her head as she watches you closely. “Stand,” she says, and you do, your legs moving seemingly on their own. Once you stand, stiff with your arms pressed to your sides, chest pushed out, your neck straight, eyes wandering over the tall frame in front of you, she nods. “See? You haven't forgotten. Good girl,” she says, and the praise shoots through you like a pistol shot, straight into your clit, making it throb and ache, your heart beating in the same hurried rhythm.

She walks around you then, her long fingers brushing over your bare arms, around your shoulders, down your spine, until she gives your ass a soft slap, making you gasp quietly. She repeats the motion, but this time, she leaves her hand on your cheek for a moment, squeezing it, her fingernails digging into your soft skin. You stiffen, breathing a little harder.

“You're so beautiful,” she whispers as she leans into you, looming behind you, her breath ghosting your jaw. “My perfect little muse.”

You feel her lips brushing against the soft spot behind your ear, a hot kiss that makes you shiver, while her hand gropes your ass, fingertips teasing at the thin fabric of your thong tucked between your cheeks.

Suddenly she leans back, lets go of you, and you hear her walking a few steps before she stops, a deep sigh echoing through the room. You turn around slowly, unsure if you should, but when you do, you freeze as you watch her pick up the glass of water on your bedside table.

“Baby, I told you to drink more,” she says with a tilt of her head. “You always forget, hm? So busy, head always in the clouds...” She walks back to you, holding the glass in front of you, her eyes boring into yours as she waits for you to grab it. You do, your hands shaking. “Drink up, pretty girl. You know you need it.”

She's so caring, you think as you bring the water to your lips, holding her gaze, but as soon as you feel the cold liquid running down your tight throat, an image flickers before your eyes. Your roommate (Mistress) sitting on your bed, moving a clear glass straw in a stirring motion, swirling the water, making a faint sheen of powder disappear. You feel as if you've watched her do that many times. What is that? What did she put in here? Vitamins? Or something else?

But you can't even question it further, can't find the courage to ask, when you realize you've drank the whole thing, every drop of water (and whatever else was in there) now in your stomach. “Good girl,” she praises and smiles at you, before she takes the glass from your clammy fingers and puts it back on your bedside table. “Now let's get you ready for our big night out, yeah?”

You frown, another faint memory peeking through the fog in your head. It seems to be getting thicker now. Strange. But this image, you still see somewhat clearly before you. You had plans tonight, you remember now, you wanted to go out. Where? No idea. But you needed a hair tie. Yeah. That's why you went into your roommate's room in the first place. Some details are blurry (were you supposed to go out with her? Have you done that before? Why would you? You barely know the woman...), but somehow they don't matter anymore.

She steps back in front of you, her fingers vanishing in the cleavage of her dress before she pulls something from between her breasts. You blink in confusion as you recognize the shape. It's a metal butt plug. And she stored it between her boobs? Interesting.

“Open wide, pet,” she tells you, and without even questioning it, you part your lips and let your tongue roll out. She looks pleased as she puts the rounded object into your mouth. It's warm, and the taste triggers something else in you. Another familiar sensation. It's her, you know without knowing, her taste, sweet and a bit salty, exploding on your tongue, sinking deep, causing soft shivers to crash down your spine, something hot gathering low in your gut.

You've had your face on her chest before, huh? Must be. Your cheeks burn up badly, your breaths loud through your nose as you suckle on the butt plug between your lips, your eyes scanning the pretty face looking down at you. She keeps her fingers on the base, pushing the object in and out, and you find yourself licking around it, coating it in your saliva. Like you've done before. You think.

She watches you before she lets go of the plug and puts her palm over your mouth. “Keep it nice and warm for me, okay?” she says, leaning closer until her nose brushes against yours. You give a jerking nod, tightening your lips around the narrowest part of the plug while its body rests hard and heavy on your tongue. “Good.”

You feel saliva pooling in your mouth, and the urge to swallow becomes stronger. But you focus on the woman in front of you as she straightens up again, her hands on her hips. Her whole presence, her aura, has you in its grip, you feel, it's impossible to fight it, to protest, to do anything except the things she demands of you. All it takes is a look, a word, her voice driving through you like an electric current that controls your every limb.

And so you move when she tells you to turn around and bend over, and as you rest on your forearms on the edge of your bed, she nudges your legs apart and steps between them, her hands sliding under your skirt and pushing it up. You stiffen slightly, breathing harder, your heart thundering inside your chest, but you can't object, you don't want to. You just endure.

And a tiny part of you, through the fog in your head, lights up, a growing heat that creeps down your spine, tenses in your stomach, seeps lower until it gathers in your core, scorching, wet, and it's all you feel when she pushes your thong aside and moves her fingers along your slit, dipping gently between your puffy lips and into your slick, the loud squelching noise making your ears burn.

She prods at your entrance, teases your clit, but then she moves up again, and without warning or command or reassuring words pokes right against your puckered hole, and as you gasp around the plug in your mouth, flinching slightly, she stretches your rim and pushes into your ass, a slim finger, a pointy fingernail, digging against your tense muscles. In and out it goes until there are two fingers, then three, and it burns, the friction too much, like little daggers poking at your nerves.

“Come on, pet, relax,” she says from behind you, moving her fingers deeper, curling them, pushing and prodding against protesting muscles. “You've done this before. You're a pro at this, remember?”

Her words bring up the hazy memories of the pictures you saw, of the various items wedged into your tight ass, and some just don't make sense. Three cucumbers? Really? While it already feels like too much when she 'only' has three slim fingers inside you? How did you manage that? Your stomach gives a distant growl as drool slips past your tight lips and onto your bed.

“Fine, I'll lube you up this time,” she sighs and removes her fingers with a strangely wet pop. This time? She doesn't usually? It's almost as if you can remember the pain of the dry friction, but then why can you never remember any soreness afterwards? Confusion lingers on your mind as you hear her footsteps leaving the room.

You remain in your bent-over position, your hands clawing at the sheets as you suckle mindlessly on the metal plug in your mouth, trying to make sense of it all. You come to no conclusion whatsoever when she eventually returns, and you hear the squirt of some liquid before you can feel it. Large dollops of something cold pressing against your tight hole. You groan against the object between your lips as she pushes deeper, her fingers, slick and cold, sliding in and out again.

This time she stretches your hole by scissoring her fingers, knuckles digging into your tense muscles, and you hear another squirt and something cold lands on your hot skin, slipping right into you. You shiver, goosebumps breaking out on your exposed skin. She keeps doing that, filling you up with more and more lube, you assume, her fingers pushing it deep, coating your insides. It's a strange sensation, but again, this feels somewhat familiar, and triggers more memories you seem to have suppressed before, or forgotten.

You see yourself strapped to a reclining chair, your legs raised up in some sort of stirrups, ankles tied and wrists bound to the armrests. You're naked, and she is kneeling between your wide open legs in front of a large plastic bucket or something like it, and there's a tube inside your ass, something cold (water?) pressing through it and into you, and you see and feel it filling you up, your stomach bulging, and you feel sick, your insides cramping, but you can't say anything, there's a gag in your mouth, so all you can do is squirm in your restraints, until you feel a different sort of pain as she slaps your mound with a force that makes you cry out, makes you flinch remembering it, and she keeps at it, hitting your clit with precise blows until it's all puffy and throbbing badly, and you throw your head back and whine helplessly, your belly still bulging, filling up, while her voice coos into your ear:

“You want to be clean, pet, don't you? So we gotta clean you up properly. You don't want to be dirty for our guests, now do you?”

You frown deeply as those words echo in your cloudy head. Guests? But the question vanishes slowly, replaced by the sensation of her fingers digging deep into your ass, spreading more lube, and in the back of your mind you're just glad she isn't giving you another enema. A strange thought to have, but it makes sense in the dizziness that holds you hostage. Breathing harder, you press your forehead into the bed, swallowing hard around the plug in your mouth.

As she works on (in) your ass, you start to feel a tingle in your neglected pussy, a spasm deep within, a little clench, a needy little urge, and instead of holding still, you find yourself grinding your rear into her hand. She stops immediately, a deep sigh escaping her as she pulls her fingers out of your ass and grips your nape with her wet hand. You shiver and stiffen, holding your breath as she pulls you into a standing position.

Her free hand grabs the base of the plug and pulls it out of your mouth where it clangs against your teeth, causing you to flinch. You swallow the excess spit and take a shuddering breath as you feel the warm metal pressing between your ass cheeks. With how she worked you open, it slips in easily enough, and your muscles clench slightly around its narrow neck, but it's only after she smacks your soft cheek a few times in rapid succession, making you whine and shudder as your skin tightens, that you're tensing up enough to hold it in place.

She lets go of you and spins you around, then holds out her hand to you, her fingers glistening in lube and your own wetness. “Clean,” she says, and even though your stomach makes a loud grumble of protest, you find yourself leaning in and closing your lips around her slim fingers. A strange taste of artificial strawberry and something else, something tangy and your own, floods your senses, but you close your eyes and flick your tongue around her digits, focusing on the task and not on the taste and the origin of it.

Eventually she pulls her hand away and pats your cheek, leaving a trail of saliva on your warm skin. Your eyes flutter open as she leans around you and adjusts your thong, pulling it back in place, then pushes your skirt down again. Her eyes meet yours, the gaze intense, creating another soothing wave of heat that rolls over you gently, that makes you clench around the plug in your butt. A smile grazes her full lips, and you find yourself smiling back.

“Alright, now put your hair up, get your shoes and your coat, and wait by the front door,” she tells you as she steps away, holding your gaze until you nod obediently. Your mind is reeling at this point, confusion and arousal warring inside of you. What is happening?

You don't know, and you don't seem to care too much either as you start moving, following her orders. You end up on your knees again, right by the door, waiting like a dog, and the image couldn't have been more fitting when you see her approaching with a strange leather band in her hands. You blink when she crouches down before you and fixes what you can only assume is a collar around your neck. It sits tight enough to notice it, but you can still breathe freely and swallow against it without it restricting you in any way.

You're still confused why you need this (and why you accept it so easily). Your roommate (Mistress) cups your face and looks at you with a warm gaze that makes you bite your lip, her hands rubbing over your cheeks before she tugs her thumbs under your chin and lifts it so she can lean in and press her lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut as you part your lips and meet her tongue, the kiss deep and soft, gentle gliding of tongues and lips, a warm gesture, sending sparks through your nerves that make you throb with a need that feels both familiar and eerily unknown, frightening.

A single thought ricochets through your empty head: You would do anything for this woman.

“My beautiful pet,” she whispers against your tingling lips, the tip of her tongue tracing the corner of your mouth. “Are you ready?”

Without thinking, without wondering what for, you nod eagerly, a breathless “Yes, Mistress.” leaving your swollen lips. She gives you another peck and stands up then, snapping her fingers in a way that leaves no room for interpretation. You stand immediately, swaying slightly on the high heels you were told to wear. You're still smaller than her, but having to look up only amplifies the sensation coursing through you. Your devotion for her.

She grabs a large bag and shoves it into your hands, and you know by the weight and feel of it, that it holds camera equipment. A distant memory shimmers behind your glassy eyes, of stumbling into her room, finding those envelopes in the drawer of her desk, of flipping through countless pictures of your naked body, of your holes being stuffed and stretched, of being tied down, of letting her do with you whatever she wants. What has disturbed you earlier is barely worth a flinch now.

It's what you do. It's what you are. Her muse. Her pet. She chose you and you obey. It's what you do, it's what she does. She's your Mistress, after all.

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End notes: Yes, our dominant lady here is indeed inspired by a character from my other (m/f) Dom/sub story: Infatuated: Mistress.

By the way, a little disclaimer at the end here as we go to the next (heavier) chapters: I am not a BDSM professional or expert, I am a writer with a dirty mind and access to the Internet. This is fiction, gaslighting people is bad, consent is very important, but when a hot lady tells you to do something, you gotta do it, that's the law (jk). Please see this as what it is: a fantasy and nothing more.

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Saturday!

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