Prompt: G!P Professor Romanoff x Camgirl reader
Warning: Smut. Forbidden relationships, voyeurism, masturbation (r and N), Oral (N and R), fingering, degrading, praising, darcyphillia, protected sex which then turns into unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, multiple positions, cum swallowing, Natasha lowkey being obsessed. It's just pure filth.
Guys it's filthy. You've been warned.
Summary- Your professor is icy, brilliant, and untouchable. You're certain that she hates you, and she is certain that she hates you too until one day, she discovers your secret life on OnlyFans. What starts as curiosity spirals into obsession, anonymous tips, and a dangerous game of desire that neither of you can resist.
The first day you stepped into Professor Romanoff's class, you had a feeling that she hated you. Maybe hate is a strong word but she sure as hell didn't like you. To be fair, you did not like her either.
You pretty much had a huge crush on your professor from that day onwards, I mean what wasn't there to like? The woman was absolutely breathtaking. Her green eyes were so captivating, her lips were always coated in that signature red lipstick she loved wearing, her tailored suits were designed to fit her body, red hair always styled to perfection, her cologne that managed to wrap around you whenever you were near her or sometimes, it even lingered in the air when she was gone. Her voice, fuck, her accented voice that always managed to send a thrill down your spine whenever she spoke. Natasha Romanoff was a hot woman, poised and so untouchable.
Many students whispered how she came from money and owned properties. Multiple. How she probably taught Russian Lit for the fun of it but probably had some Vila in Italy that she disappeared to during breaks. But as always, with admiration, comes disdain. And that is what you're sure the woman had for you. Whenever you were in her class, her gaze made you feel unworthy, like you didn't belong in her class. When you raised your hand in her class to answer a question, she'd simply skip past you for other students. Or when she did give you the opportunity to answer, she'd either roll her eyes or she would dissect your answer in front of your classmates which made you feel dumb. The woman practically picked on you daily, critiqued your work and made it seem like a waste of her time, and it fucking infuriated you.
You hated her. You wanted her. But still, you hated her.
But you hated what you were doing to survive more. You told yourself that it was just temporary, that it was helping you survive until you got a better job. Keeping up with college expenses like tuitions, textbooks, groceries, clothing and food was tough and let's just say that your part time job wasn't offering much, hell it wasn't even covering the expenses for your textbooks alone. So you did the next best thing. OnlyFans. Awesome right?
You've always been told by people that you had an amazing body in passing ( your exes, acquaintances, friends, hell even your best friends Darcy and Kate told you that but they were as high as a kite the day they said that). So why not use that to your advantage? You hid your face, of course you did! You might have been really desperate but you sure as hell weren't stupid. Whenever you had your live streams or whenever you recorded yourself, you carefully angled your camera so that it only showed your body. From your neck downwards. Besides your viewers didn't care for that, just what you did and that was enough. And you would like to think the mystery of wondering who it was, kept them all thrilled.
Spoiler alert: It did. Because they always kept coming back.
Sure, your dignity may have gone down the hill the first time you posted a video, but once the money came in and the bills were off of your back, who the hell were you to complain? As far as they know, you were just some random chick with a killer body who had an OnlyFans page and you made sure that you were anonymous, secretive and everyone who knew you would never stumble upon your page. Or so you thought.
"We're thinking of going to James' party tonight, wanna come with y/n?" Kate asked you while you mindlessly tossed grapes into your mouth.
"Nah, I think I'm gonna stay home tonight." You mumbled while tossing another grape into your mouth. Darcy grumbled before pulling the box of grapes away from your reach,
"Oh come on!" Kat whined.
"What could you possibly be doing in your room that's so important, that you can't even hang out with us?" Wouldn't you like to know. You grabbed the box out of Darcy's hands and she sent you a glare.
"I'm busy with school work."
Darcy huffed while Kate rolled her eyes. They weren't believing a thing that came out of your mouth.
"Dude you've been busy with school work for months now." Kate mumbled and Darcy agreed.
"Well excuse me for caring about my education. You know some of us aren't trust fund babies, no offense." You shrugged your shoulders before placing the box aside.
"You know staying in your dorm room will never get you laid." Darcy's comment had you rolling your eyes. She tended to say stupid things sometimes. Most times.
"I need to finish Professor Romanoff's essay. You know she's on my ass like ninety percent of the time."
"You're imagining things. She's like that with everyone."
"That's absolutely not true Kate. Name one person she picks on, every single day besides me." Kate was quiet for a moment and you nodded your head.
"That's what I thought Bishop."
"Tell you what, I'll go out with you guys the next party that's thrown, I swear on my life."
"Well that's very convenient because there's another one on Friday. Guess you're tagging along with us." Darcy grinned and you sighed.
You sat criss-cross on your twin bed with a robe covering your body, shuffling comfortably before trying to set your camera to the best angle. The fairy lights you hung across the wall months ago, now hung skew thanks to the current position you were in. But today, instead of just having the natural light accompanied by your fairy lights, you decided to make use of the LED strips that you rarely used.
You fumbled with the remote, trying to find the perfect color for your live stream that day. Red was too cliche in your opinion, blue wasn't working well for you today and green? Well who the fuck uses green? After fumbling with the DIY control switch, you settled on purple. It was cute, fitting and it made your body look Sinful, oddly enough.
You looked around your bed. It wasn't that tidy but it was still inviting. Next to you, laid an arrangement of toys you'd be using. It wasn't much, but at least you'd finish quicker compared to using just your fingers. You still had no idea which one you'd use, instead you'd let your viewers pick. You rarely went live these days. Instead, you'd opted to post videos on your site, with small teasers on Twitter so it would keep all of your viewers fed while you dealt with school, stress and cramming for tests.
After posting a tweet, that you'd be going live earlier today, many of your followers went insane in your comments. And you had a feeling you'd get more tips than usual for this specific stream, especially after not being that active, because tonight felt different.
Your laptop screen glowed with the familiar streaming dashboard. Notifications were already pinging as subscribers saw the announcement that you were live. A flood of usernames filled the chat within seconds, excitement spilling into words:
You laughed softly, leaning back in your chair, robe slipping off your shoulders to reveal the black bralette and thong you'd picked out.
"Guess who's back, babies." you teased, voice low, sultry.
"Been a while, huh? I know, I know, I've been a bad girl, leaving you starving."
The comments exploded. Tips began rolling in just from your voice, from the tease of you running your hands down your stomach, stopping just shy of your panties.
You stretched your legs out on the bed, the hem of your robe falling away, leaving you almost fully exposed.
More tips were piling in, and you decided that the toys next to you were not worth it. So slowly, deliberately, you pulled a different toy from the nightstand drawer, a sleek wand vibrator that hummed when you flicked it on. You held it up to the camera, just chest-down, letting the faint buzz fill the silence. Perfect.
"Thought I'd make it up to you. " you murmured, dragging the toy over your inner thighs, not touching where they wanted yet.
"Think I should let you watch me fall apart tonight hm?" The chat begged.
You pressed the toy against your panties, a sharp hiss escaping your throat before you could stop it. The fabric instantly dampened as the vibrations sank deep, and you shifted your hips, grinding just enough to keep the ache building.
"Fuck!" The moan slipped out unplanned, breathy and sharp, and you let your head fall back even though they couldn't see your face.
"Fuck, I missed this... missed you."
Your free hand tugged the bralette down, exposing your breasts to the camera. You pinched your nipple between your fingers, rolling it as the wand hummed harder against your clit. Your body arched off the bed, desperate, and the comments blurred into a frenzy.
"Harder, please, fuck harder."
And you gave it to them. You pushed the toy aside just long enough to slide your panties down, tossing them out of frame, before pressing the wand directly against your clit. The jolt of sensation was almost too much, you cried out, voice cracking, thighs trembling as you spread them wider for the camera.
The sound of your slick filled the room, obscene and perfect.
"Shit oh-fuck, it's so good... " you whimpered, grinding against the toy like you couldn't get enough. Your toes curled, back arching as your orgasm tore through you quicker than you expected. You didn't hold back, you let them hear every moan, every gasp, the shaky sob of relief as your body shook against the sheets.
Even when it ended, you didn't move the toy away. You held it there, overstimulating yourself, thighs twitching uncontrollably, pussy leaking while the chat went wild.
Your voice was wrecked when you finally spoke again, chest heaving.
"Fuck... I think I just made up for lost time, yeah?" Hearts, tips, and desperate comments flooded the screen.
"Think I should give you guys another one?" You joke with a weak, breathless laugh, while pulling the robe loosely back over yourself, the toy still buzzing faintly in your hand.
Your chest is still heaving, skin flushed with heat, when you reach over to end the stream. But the chat won't let you. Tips are still pouring in, desperate messages scrolling so fast you can barely read them.
You laugh again, breathlessly, brushing sweat-damp curls away from your neck. Your thighs are still trembling, clit throbbing from the intensity of the wand. You should stop. You should. But the sight of the tip counter climbing, the sound of their begging, it pushes something in you.
"Greedy fuckers," you murmur into the mic, voice low, wrecked from moaning. "Fine. But if I do another round... Don't you think it's fair I switch toys hmm?" More tips are coming in now and you let out a pleased hum.
You push the wand aside, legs still spread wide, slick glistening in the soft glow of your dorm's LED lights. From your drawer, you pull out something thicker, your clear dildo, curved just right, veins ridged along the length. You hold it up just enough for the camera to catch the shape, your face still cropped out.
You tease yourself first, dragging the tip along your folds, coating it with your wetness. You moan at the contrast, cool silicone against your overheated skin, and circle it around your clit just to make them squirm.
"Hm... already so wet," you breathe, letting the dildo push just an inch inside before pulling it back out.
"You've got me dripping for you."
Your hand steadies on your thigh as you push deeper, the toy stretching you open slowly, deliciously. You sink it halfway, groaning into the mic as your walls clench around the girth. The viewers beg for more, the screen blurring with filth, and you give it to them, sliding it all the way in with a shaky cry.
You start riding it, hips rolling up to meet every thrust, tits bouncing with the motion. The wet sound of your pussy taking the toy echoes in the quiet dorm, obscene and perfect. You can feel yourself building already, the overstimulation from earlier making your body hypersensitive.
You grab your phone from the nightstand, hold it above your stomach, recording a close-up of the toy disappearing inside you for your Twitter fans. The comments go wild, begging you to upload it later.
Your moans get louder, needier, until you're fucking yourself with abandon, the bed creaking beneath you. Your free hand finds your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles in sync with the thrusts.
Your orgasm slams into you hard, tearing a scream from your throat as your thighs clamp around the toy. Your whole body jerks, back arching, toes curling as you gush around the dildo, slick coating your thighs and sheets. You leave it inside you as you come down, panting into the mic, trembling so hard you can barely hold yourself up.
After a long pause, you let out a shaky laugh.
"Hope you're fucking satisfied now." The chat blows up again, hearts and tips exploding across the screen. You pull the toy out slowly, the sight of your cum dripping all over it enough to make them lose their minds for one last time.
"Don't say I never spoil you." you whispered, before clicking End Stream.
The camera light flicked off, leaving your dorm in silence once again. Your body was still thrumming, your sheets damp with sweat and release. You hadn't shown your face, not once, but it didn't matter. They'd be replaying this stream in their heads for weeks.
And you, blissfully unaware, had no idea who was going to stumble across your page next.
You were currently doodling in your note book before someone slammed their hands on your desk. You looked up to see your professor looking down at you. And she wasn't thrilled at all.
"Care to tell me what I just explained Ms Y/L/N?" She asked with a tilt of her head and you sat up.
"Uhm, I didn't hear you." Someone on your left snickered, she sent them a glare that had them ducking their head before turning back to face you.
"Of course you didn't, because you're too busy doodling in my class. If you think you're such an artist than you should've taken an art major." You swallow thickly, face warm from the humiliation.
"I apologize, it won't happen again." Natasha scoffs before walking off. From the corner of your eye, you find Kate giving you a sympathetic look while Darcy makes a cross-eyed face and you chuckle.
An hour later, the lecture that had been dragging finally ends and you begin to pack your books and laptop into your bag. You sling that bag onto your shoulder but your professors voice stops any further movements.
"Y/n. Stay behind." She mumbles from her table and you fight back an eye roll. Both of your friends send you sympathetic glances before leaving the lecture hall.
You wait for the last student to leave, before you walk down towards her table.
"Yes?" The redhead finally glances at you.
"What is this?" You raise a brow at the file in her hand.
"I'm aware of that. But what is this? The content in this? It's rubbish. Have you not been paying attention to me for the past few months y/n? Am I that boring that you fail to grasp simple knowledge."
"I did try me best with the-"
"Well that's not enough." She throws the file down onto the table with a force that has it sliding onto the floor.
"Rewrite that. And I expect it to be on my desk in a week."
"Do I look like I'm laughing y/n?"
"But I don't see you doing that to other students, this is-"
"You aren't other students. You can leave now." She motions for you to leave and you scoff before picking it your file off and storming out of her class. god you really hated that woman.
That same evening, Natasha sat on her expensive couch, a glass of scotch in her hand as she mindlessly scrolled through her phone. She was supposed to be grading papers. But after marking a few papers that gave her a migraine, she set the heap of papers aside before pouring herself a drink that would nurse said headache.
She wasn't really one to find herself on different Twitter posts, let alone different pages. But there was always a time for new things right? And some feeling had been dragging her towards a certain page. The woman sipped onto her drink, scrolling through pages, liking something funny or relatable until somehow she found herself on a page. She was about to scroll, she should've scrolled, but something about the handle drew her in.
The handle looked awfully familiar, so she clicked onto the profile and she narrowed her eyes to get a proper look. She grabbed her glasses that were placed next to her before putting them on. On her screen, was some girl. Faceless and anonymous. But she knew that body.
"No." She whispered to herself. It couldn't be. Natasha scrolled down the page, finding suggestive pictures of this girl half naked or arching her back. She found tweets and videos. Multiple. Her eyes dragged down the females body. It looked so familiar.
She shook her head, maybe she had been imagining things. That was until she landed on a thumbnail of some video, and she was correct. It was you. How could she tell? She saw the tattoo on your collarbone, the one that she once caught a glance off when your sweater had slipped down your shoulder, when she shouldn't have been staring at her student and thinking the thoughts she'd been thinking that moment.
The ring on your finger, she knew it was yours. You always played with that ring when you weren't paying attention in her class or when you were anxious. The small mole on your shoulder that she'd once seen, when you'd decided to wear a spaghetti strap shirt because the heat had been blazing that week.
That page, you didn't just resemble her student, you were her student. Her pulse quickened, a sensation unfamiliar and sharp. Her professorly composure, so meticulously maintained in lectures, wavered just a fraction as she leaned closer, inspecting the images and videos. The screen glowed. Notifications popped up. Comments from you, interaction from fans.
She swallowed hard. Her professional boundaries, her reputation, all of it screamed at her to stop. And yet... she couldn't. Somehow she'd found a teaser of the live stream that had been posted a few days ago. That same one where you'd fucked yourself senseless with two different toys before calling it a night.
She couldn't help it. Her airpods had been sitting carelessly next to her. She slipped them in and played the video. She watched the first clip, the one where you held the wand, pressing it onto your clit until you sobbed. Her cock twitched. And she fought the urge to handle it. To touch herself.
The sounds of your moans filled her ears. Fuck, you sounded so addicting. She watched the way you clenched the sheets beneath you, how your clit throbbed when you pulled the wand away, how your moans bounced off of the walls, hips chasing the vibrations from your toy.
Somehow, Natasha found her hand inside her sweatpants, palming her semi hard cock. She should have left, should have blocked and returned to grading her papers. But she didn't, she couldn't. Not when your thighs were twitching, and not when she saw your pussy leaking. She wondered how you'd feel. How your walls would feel wrapped around her cock as she drove into you with speed.
And then the video stopped. She groaned in frustration. But there was another video posted the same day just below the video she had been watching. She clicked play and saw you holding the clear dildo. Her jaw was slack as she watched you trail that toy in between your soaking folds. She watched the head of the toy enter you. But the sound you let out, the gasp that fell from your lips sent a thrill down to her spine.
Your pussy practically swallowed the toy as you began to push it in and out. She watched as your fingers tugged your nipples, how your tits bounced as you rode the toy like your life depended on it. She wondered what faces you'd be making while you pounded the toy into your cunt. And then, fuck, and then you picked your phone up, moving it closer to your pussy so she could get a better view and she was so grateful for that. She watched the slick dripping from your cunt onto your sheets, you moaned loudly and then the video stopped.
Natasha groaned again, but then her hand hovered over the link that was on your page. She shouldn't. It was against her morals. If anyone found out, her career could be over. But then, the sight of your hips grinding against the toy, came into view and all her morals left her brain. She pressed onto the link, and by the end of the night, she'd made an account and now you had a brand new anonymous subscriber.
And Natasha? Well she had just experienced one of the best orgasms that she had in months all thanks to you.
The weekend went by very quickly. Now you found yourself walking into your Russian Lit class. Natasha was writing something on the board when you walked in with Kate and Darcy. You took your usual seat at the back, waiting for the rest of the students to pile in before the class started. Natasha turned around, gaze sweeping across the class before she found you. You expected her usual cold stare, and it was there but something was different.
She stared at you longer than usual. Her gaze was similar to that of a predator watching it's prey. You looked down, face heating up from the intensity of that look. The rest of the class went by just like that, with your professor watching you. Everytime you looked up, she was already staring at you. And she didn't look away. No, but you caught the corners of her mouth twitching into a smirk.
You looked down again. Weird. Class ended and you packed your belongings before walking down to her table.
"Here's my essay Ms Romanoff. I hope it's good enough." She glanced at the file before looking up at you.
"Hm. Let's hope so." Natasha looked at you once again, that same dark look from before and you cleared your throat before leaving. You felt hot. Hot and bothered and your thighs were probably covered with slick. Man, you needed to get a hold of yourself.
Bouncing in between bodies inside some packed club on a Friday is not what you expected to be doing. After your hectic week, your best friends dragged you out to a club, claiming that you needed to get out more. You being you, hesitated, fought a little too until Kate threatened to throw your favorite crisp white hoodie into mud. You may believe that the raven haired girl was "all bark no bite" but you o fed witnessed her throw Darcy's favorite pair of Steve Madden heels into the garbage can outside the dorm rooms because Darcy did not want to do the dishes in freshman year.
You bumped into some couple who only scoffed at you before they went back to kissing. Darcy and Kate dragged you towards the bar area, where they both plopped down onto chairs before ordering shots.
"Yes, we need some liquor in our bodies!" Kate yelled excitedly while her hands waved in the air.
The bartender slid your drinks over before moving to attend to the people next to you. Your friends downed their shots, before ordering more. You watched them drink like they had never drank before, and you knew that evening, that you would have to take care of them afterwards.
Minutes after, the two were on the dance floor, having the time of their lives, screaming on top of the music while you sat by the bar, laughing at them.
"Not much of a dancer I see." That's the least expected voice you expect to hear that moment. You turn your head sideways to find your professor staring at you. Your mouth parts before you stammer out a response before she could give one of her witty comments about you being to slow to grasp a sentence.
"Oh? Hm, interesting." She sips her drink, what you assume is to be a glass of bourbon, before she looks at you again. She smirks.
"When I look at you, I imagine you being a...performer. Like you belong in front of a camera." There's a second meaning to her words, but you're too unfocused to grasp it. You chuckle nervously, feeling intimidated under her scrutinizing eyes.
"Don't really like attention."
"Oh?" She mumbles, as if she's genuinely shocked.
"Hm, not really my cup of tea being here." Natasha turns to face you fully now.
"Hm. What is your cup of tea then?"
"Being home alone. Time to myself. I like that."
"Excuse me?" You turn to face her but Natasha's already placing a hundred dollar bill next to her empty glass.
"Nice seeing you y/n. I hope you do get you're alone time."Again, the way she says it, is like she's implying something that you can't quite name.
"This covers mine and hers." She motions at the bartender who nods his head. Natasha glances at you for a final time. She looks at you from head to toe. From your perfect curls hanging down your neck, to your plump lips, your cleavage and down to your legs. She smirks then turns around and leaves. Weird.
You'd been on edge all day. In class, you couldn't shake the way Professor Romanoff's eyes kept finding you. Normally she was dismissive, cold, like she had no patience for you. But today? Every time you looked up, you found her gaze lingering, her mouth twitching like she was holding something back. She didn't say anything to you, didn't even mention anything about what happened at the club, but something was really off. You chalked it up to paranoia, pushed it away, buried yourself in notes. You're probably just over thinking about it.
But later, when the dorm was quiet that night, you decided to go live. It had been a while, and the pressure building in your chest the need for release, for validation, for that flood of comments and money, was gnawing at you.
You set up carefully, as you always did. Face cropped out. Just showing your neck and the seductive movement of your body. Tonight, you wanted to play with two toys, a slim pink vibrator for your clit and a thicker black dildo you could ride until your legs gave out.
The chat blew up the second you started, your regulars popping in with thirsty greetings.
"Finally! Been starving for you."
But then something different happened. A new subscriber joined l, anonymous, no username attached. Just a blank icon. But their presence was impossible to miss because the first thing they did was tip you $500 in one drop.
Your lips parted around a soft, disbelieving laugh.
"Ohhh, someone's feeling generous tonight." You leaned into the mic, voice low, teasing.
"What do you want me to do with that, huh?" Almost instantly, the chat moved, and a single comment appeared from the anonymous account:
A chill slid down your spine, but it wasn't fear, it was adrenaline, hot and dizzying. You shifted on your bed, tugging your shorts off slowly, deliberately. The little pink toy buzzed to life in your hand.
You pressed it against your clit, thighs trembling as you obeyed, spreading yourself more for the camera.
"Just like this?" you whispered, letting a moan catch in your throat when the vibrations hit a little too perfectly.
Another obscene tip rolled in. Another comment:
"Slower. Let me see how you drip."
The command made heat curl in your belly. Normally, you played with the chat, teased back and forth, but this felt... different. Like someone was reaching through the screen, controlling you. You followed anyway, dragging the toy in lazy circles over your clit until your slick coated the tip.
"Fuck, you're bossy," you breathed out, legs twitching. The black toy sat waiting beside you, thicker, heavier, something you usually saved for the finale. But the anonymous subscriber dropped $1000 this time, and the message that came with it made your stomach flip:
"Ride it. Don't stop until I tell you."
The request was impossible, ridiculous, but your body was already reacting before you could think, already moving. You grabbed the dildo, braced it against the mattress, and sank down slowly, stretching around it with a breathless whimper. Your chat went insane, hearts and filthy comments flying by. But your eyes locked on the blank icon, on the one person shaping this entire performance. You bounced on the toy, pace building despite your earlier plan to keep things slow.
"Shit, shit... " you moaned, head falling back, the pink vibrator still pressed to your clit. The double stimulation had you unraveling, thighs shaking. You couldn't stop even if you wanted to.
Another tip. Another line of text:
You obeyed without thinking, grinding down harder, chasing the orgasm clawing its way up your spine. The sound of your slick hitting the dildo filled the room, obscene and wet, and you let your voice break free.
"Fuck, I'm so close, please!"
Another $500. Another command.
"Go on, ride it like you mean it, make a mess for me."
Your chest tightened. That was different. That wasn't just horny chatter, it it was possession. But the orgasm was already crashing into you, leaving you gasping, clenching hard around the toy as your whole body shook.
"Is this good enough f'you?" you cried out, the words spilling before you could even stop yourself.
The chat exploded with chaos, but none of it mattered. Only that blank icon. Only the way you gave yourself over to someone you didn't even know.
When the stream ended, you collapsed back on your bed, chest heaving, skin damp. Your notifications pinged, another private message from the anonymous account.
"Next time wear that black skirt to class."
Your blood ran hot, cold, everything in between. Because suddenly, you had the gut-wrenching suspicion that whoever this was? They knew exactly who you were.
Saturday mornings in your dorm are usually lazy, just rolling out of bed late, scrolling through your socials, maybe catching up on assignments if you felt like it. But this Saturday, when you open your door to grab the breakfast order you'd been waiting on, there's something else sitting on the floor.
A box. No label beyond your name and room number. You freeze for a second, confusion twisting your stomach. You didn't order anything. No one knows your address except the university and obviously your best friends. Heart hammering, you carry the package inside, setting it on your desk before peeling the tape away.
Inside is a velvet-black box. Sleek, expensive-looking. You open it, and your breath catches. Inside you find a toy. Bigger than any you own. Thick, intimidating, with a glossy silicone surface and a charging cable tucked neatly beside it. Brand new. Top tier. The kind of thing that costs way more than your broke college-student ass would ever splurge on.
There's no note. No explanation. Nothing. But you don't need one. Not when, ten minutes later, your phone buzzes with a notification.
Anonymous Subscriber tipped $500. Message included.
Your stomach flips as you open the private message.
Use the gift on your next stream. I want to see how well you can take it. All of it.
You nearly drop your phone. Your pulse races. How... how the fuck do they know your address? Who the hell would send something like this? You chew your lip, staring at the toy still sitting in its velvet box like some obscene invitation. There's a thrill coursing through you, heavy and dangerous. You should be alarmed, maybe even scared, but you're not. Not exactly. You're... flushed. Turned on by the thought of someone going out of their way to push you like this.
That night, when you finally hit "go live," you keep the camera angled just right so your face stays hidden as per usual. Your voice is soft, almost shy, when you greet the flood of viewers who've been begging for your return.
But your eyes keep flicking to the tip tracker. To the username that isn't a username, just a blank placeholder, but one that carries weight now. One that sent you a toy big enough to make your thighs clench just thinking about it.
You start slow with your usual toy, teasing, letting yourself warm up as the chat scrolls wild with comments and tips. But then, after a long pause, you hold up the new one. Just the sight of it makes the viewers lose their collective shit, throwing money at the screen like rain. And, of course, the anonymous account tops them all. Another $1,000 lands with a private message attached:
All of it. Deep. Don't hold back.
Your breath hitches. Heat spreads through you as you lube it up and position it between your thighs.
"Fuck," you whisper, too caught up to filter yourself.
"You want me ruined, huh?" The chat explodes. Your hand trembles as you press the head of the toy against your entrance, slowly stretching yourself around it. You moan into your hand, muffling the sound as the camera catches every shudder, every desperate roll of your hips.
Halfway in, you're already whimpering, toes curling against your sheets. The toy feels impossibly thick, almost cruel. But the money keeps rolling in, your anonymous watcher dropping obscene tips every time you take more of it inside you. By the time it's buried deep, your body is trembling and your eyes are wet. You ride it slow at first, then faster, chasing the pressure until your climax rips through you so hard you forget you're even streaming. When you finally collapse, chest heaving, the toy still inside you, the chat is going feral. And then, one last message appears.
Good girl. You'll do this again for me.
You stare at the screen, your body still shaking, heart pounding so hard it hurts. Whoever they are, they're watching. They know where you live. And they're not going anywhere.
As per usual, you sat in the back of Professor Romanoff's class. But now you were certain that something was truly off with the older woman. She wasn't cruel towards you anymore, but the way she looked at you during her classes was far from your typical professor/student relationship.
Class drags on for long, but you can't seem to give a damn because you're too busy dodging your professors predatory gaze. You feel the intensity of her gaze spread through your body like a wildfire. Why can't she stop looking at you? At one point, when the rest of the students are busy working on a class assignment she had just handed out, the woman begins walking through the rows.
You feel her, smell her. She's just everywhere. When she finally nears your table, she stops right behind you before glancing down at your sheet. You thighs involuntarily clench together, your fingers grip the table and your heart beats faster.
"Good work." Is all she says before she moves to someone else. You release a breath you didn't even know you were holding.
After class, your friends wait for you, but Natasha stops any further movements.
"Y/n stay behind." Your stomach drops. What could you have done now? Your friends raise their brows and you gesture for them to leave. The last student closes the door and now it's just you and her.
"I've noticed that you've been quite... distracted in my class, tired almost. Is something going on at home?"
"No." Since when did Natasha give a shit about you.
"Huh." She twirls her pen with one hand, her gaze still locked on you. You clear your throat, ready to turn around and leave leave when she says this:
"Tell me, did you enjoy the gift that I sent you?" Your body goes rigid.
"Sorry?" You're hoping that this was some sick joke she was playing on you.
"Don't play dumb with me y/n, it's not a good look on you. But I will say that red lingerie you wore definitely is."
She couldn't be talking about that. Its impossible.
"I think you have the wrong person."
"Really? So you weren't fucking yourself dumb with the toy I sent you on Saturday?"
"W-what... H-how?" You're stammering, you're panicking but also for some odd reason, you're now ridiculously turned on. Your professor had been the anonymous subscriber?! The one who tipped you so much money like your body belonged to her, the one who sent you that expensive toy, the one what had been commanding you to fuck yourself until you fell apart, until you made a mess on your sheets. The one who had been watching you. She had been watching you.
"You know I was about to ask you for a private video, but then I thought how much better it would be to see you falling apart up close, to hear you moan, to feel you." Her smirk deepens and you're still shocked.
"Do you ever think about me when you're fingers are buried deep in that pussy?" Your jaw slacks at her comment. You want to make a run for it, to leave this woman alone but your feet have failed on you, you're practically stuck.
"You've got the wrong person?"
"Really? I think I know the sound of my own student's voice. And ,well now I know the sound of her moans." She stalks towards you, you step back until your back hits the door.
"But don't worry, I won't tell your little secret. Why waste such a pretty thing like you." She whispers in your ear, your pulse hammers as you feel her fingers drag up and down your hip.
She finally takes a step back and you breath.
"You can leave now." She murmurs, lips twitched into a sly smirk. After that, you bolt out of her class. What the actual fuck just happened?
After the classroom blow-up, you flee. You didn’t wait to hear her excuses or promises, because the only thing louder than her voice in your head was the throb between your legs you refuse to acknowledge.
For the next two days you avoid the redhead. No streams. No lingering in class. No daring to check if the anonymous subscriber is still watching, even though you already knew the answer to that.
But then Saturday comes. And on Saturday, there’s a package at your door. Unmarked. Clean. Innocent-looking until you rip it open and find what’s inside: a toy bigger than the last, sleek and expensive, along with a cropped black top folded neatly beneath it. A slip of paper rests on top.
“Wear this. Use it. Let me see how much you can take for me.”
Your stomach flips. Because now it’s undeniable. Now it’s not just watching or hinting, it’s Natasha commanding you in the same way she does when lecturing, only filthier, hungrier.
You tell yourself you won’t. You tell yourself you’ll throw it away. That she doesn't deserve the satisfaction of having control over you. And you still hated her.
But that night, when you set up your camera, the top clings to your skin and the new toy hums in your hand. And you can’t help it. You give her exactly what she asked for. Viewers go insane, they beg for more filth but you don't listen to them, you can't because the only person who's voice matters is silent. Extremely silent but she tips $2500 and you know you've got her where you want.
When the stream ends, you find a private message waiting for you.
I always knew you'd be an obedient girl.
Something about that makes your thighs clench, but there was no way you'd just let her have control over you.
A week goes by and you've been completely ignoring the redhead and it seemed to anger her. But you didn't care. You stopped going live, your last post on your site was about a month ago apart from those lives and you were rarely active on Twitter because you didn't want to give the redhead the satisfaction. To let her think you were fucking yourself for her.
And now, when somebody knocks on your door impatiently, you furrow your brows before walking over and opening it. You find the redhead standing there with a dangerous look on her face. She doesn't even wait for you to say anything whore she walks inside.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" You shut the door with your foot before turning around to get a proper look at her.
"Someone could've seen you. Why are you even here, you don't get to just walk into my space just because you've seen-"
"Seen you what? I dare you, finish that sentence." You swallow before taking a step back and crossing your arms.
"You need to leave." It comes out shakier than you thought. Natasha tilts her head with that dangerous smirk.
She takes a step forward and you take another back. This goes on until she's cornered you against your door. One of her hands is placed on your waist while the other pins your wrists above your head.
"You're so pretty when you're obedient, you know that? But your little act of defiance is such a fucking turn on." You're breath stutters, your knees are quarter to giving up on you but that mouth of yours never knows when to shut up.
"What, you gonna fuck me like I belong to you now?" You scoff.
"You're all bark and no bite." Her free hand grabs your jaw roughly, tilting your face up toward hers.
“I don’t just say shit I can't do." Her fingers squish your lips together.
"That mouth of yours would be better wrapped around my cock." You swallow and she sees the defiance leaving your body, bit by bit.
And finally, finally, she kisses you. It's a messy kiss. Teeth clashing, tongues battling for dominance. Her hands wrap around your waist while yours pull at her hair. Somehow, Natasha has your legs wrapped around your waist before you're flat on your bed.
"Do you know how long I had to sit in class and pretend all I wasn't thinking about was fucking you senseless?" Clothes are peeled off of your body before they're thrown onto the floor of your dorm room.
You lay half naked in front of the woman, just in your underwear, and the redhead swears she's never seen a better sight. Rough calloused hands grope your tits, moans tumble out of your lips before she moves down to kiss them. Skilled hands unclip your bra before it joins the pile of clothes on the floor. She seperates from your lips to get a closer look. Her eyes darken, her tongue comes out to lick her lips, her fingers twitch on the sides like she's holding on to the last bit of restraint she has. But then, her tongue literally slides from your neck to in between your tits. You moan softly and she moans too because you taste so amazing. And she hasn't even tasted the source yet?! But then it hits you.
You're about to fuck your Professor. Hello, you're about to fuck your hot professor who you supposedly hate.
"We shouldn't be doing this." You moan breathlessly.
"That ship sailed the moment you stuffed your pussy with the toy I bought for you." She mumbles as her teeth nip at your neck. Her lips trail down and then she's in between your thighs.
"Would you look at this mess." Natasha's thumb circles your covered clit that's practically begging for attention, begging to be freed from your panties.
She lifts your legs up, wraps them around her shoulders. You look down at her, those fucking green eyes are already looking up at you with that signature smirk like she's waiting for you to say it.
"I know you want to detka, come on, beg."
"If you're not gonna fuck me, I'll do it myself like I have been for the last few months."
"Oh yeah?" She moves away from your thighs and you almost whine because you kiss her warmth.
Natasha grabs the chair that you used for studying before placing it across from you and taking a seat.
"Do it." You clench your jaw, you're horny, you're wet and she's making you fuck yourself in front of her. You don't want to give her the satisfaction of hearing you beg for her, so you sit up, glance at her for a final time before opening your nightstand and rummaging through it.
Either way, Natasha is benefiting from this. She was either going to get to hear you beg to fuck her or she gets to see you fuck yourself, live. Her gaze is completely locked onto yours as she watches you grab something. You pull out the wand before switching it on.
The room feels hotter and smaller with Natasha inside. And you swear you can hear everything, the sound of your toy buzzing, the sound of her breath hitching, the sound of your own shaky breath.
Natasha watches you bring the toy to your covered clit. You gasp at the feeling, you want to close your eyes but you want to see her. You want to watch her unravel for you.
"Do you enjoy watching me Professor?" You ask breathlessly and Natasha's cock twitches. Again. She doesn't answer, she just clenches her jaw.
"You're filthy, you know that?" She mumbles and you smirk.
"You're the one watching me with a hard on." She doesn't say anything after that. Instead she focuses on the way your thighs begin to shake from the intensity of the vibrator.
You're surprised that it didn't even take you that long to work yourself up. Normally it would take you a little longer before your stomach would be tightening. Guess the redhead just had that effect on you. Before you can go too far, you remove the toy from your soaking cunt. Slowly, you slip out of the ruined thong before it's thrown onto the floor. Now she's got you bare in front of her. Natasha sucks in a breath. It's better, way better than seeing you on her screen.
And she also has the opportunity to watch your face contort in pleasure. You place the wand onto your clit again and this time you hiss. Your moans grow louder while your pussy practically drools. And the redhead might be too. Your back arches off the bed as you feel your orgasm nearing. Buttons are pressed to increase the speed and soon enough, you're cumming so hard, your pussy leaks onto your sheets.
At that point, Natasha has had enough. She stands up swiftly, removing the toy from your pussy which makes you whine.
"Hey I wasn't oh-" Your protest is cut short when Natasha wraps your legs around her head and her tongue swipes across your wet pussy. She moans at the taste, she moans like she's the one getting off. You throw your head back in pleasure. Her tongue is everywhere. You feel her everywhere. She eats you out like a woman starved, like she's thristy and you're the only think that can quench her thirst.
"You taste like heaven, I could practically drown in this pussy." Your stomach flutters at her words.
Her hand presses your stomach down, she stops all of your movements. Your orgasm approaches so fast, you don't even feel it coming until it hits like a tidal wave. You moan out loud, hand covering your mouth to stifle it.
"Fuck Nat oh my fuck!" She still continues eating you, licking you, flicking her tongue, sucking your clit, thrusting it into your hole. At one point, you try to move away but her strong arms only bring you closer to her mouth.
"Stop running from me and take it." Is what she says before going back to devouring your now puffy pussy.
"It's too much." you whine and she laughs.
Then she slides two digits into your mouth.
"Make them wet." She watches your suck her fingers and she knows you're teasing her. But she'll have your mouth wrapped around her cock soon enough. Natasha spits onto your pussy and you feel yourself get even wetter. How the fuck was that even possible? She then slides those two coated fingers into your hole. You moan louder this time. So loud, you're sure you're going to hear complaints tomorrow but neither of you care. She thrusts her fingers inside you like she knows your body. She scissors them, curls them in a come hither motion until your velvety walls flutter around her. The sounds is fucking obscene, the sight? Mesmerizing.
"Would you fucking look at that." Your cum coats her fingers, your sobs fill her ears but she's not stopping, instead it's pushing her further. It's like music to her ears. You're drooling, your pussy is drooling and she may as well be because your pussy just tastes so fucking sweet. You sob again from the overstimulation.
"Want me to stop?" you shake your head and she smirks.
"Thought so. What a fucking slut." you cum again. You think that's all?
She makes you sit on her face. She makes you work and chase the pleasure, to cum again. You ride her tongue like your life depends on it. Until your body is shaking, your habds gripping the headboard for some form of stability.
" Fuckfuckfuck!" You cum in her mouth and at least that time she stops. Your body goes limp next to hers. Your legs feel wobbly, your body is on cloud nine and you're just breathless because the professor you "hate" just gave you the most mind blowing orgasms of your life.
Natasha is still catching her breath, lying back against your pillows, lips swollen and chin glistening. You’re still trembling from what she just did to you, but something in you stirs. Something hungry.
You crawl between her legs, licking your lips with a smirk. She arches a brow.
“What are you doing, detka?”
“Returning the favor.” you whisper, fingers tugging her slacks down enough to free her cock. She’s already half-hard, flushed, heavy against her stomach. Your mouth waters instantly. Her smirk deepens.
“You sure you can handle me?” You shoot her a look.
“The question is... can you handle me?” Natasha opens her mouth to fire back as per usual, but the second you wrap your lips around the tip, her words die. A groan tears from her throat, low and sharp.
“Fuck-” You suck her slowly at first, teasing, letting your spit drip down her shaft as you pump her with one hand. Then, without warning, you take her deep. All the way. Nose pressed against her pelvis, throat squeezing around her cock.
Natasha chokes on her own moan, her head falling back against the pillow.
“Bozhe moi, fuck, y/n-” You hum around her, gagging just enough to make spit flood your mouth. When you pull back, strings of saliva connect your lips to her cock, messy and obscene.
“You like that, huh?” you purr, licking up the side of her shaft before sucking the tip again.
“Never had someone suck you like this?” She glares down at you, trying to play it cool, but her flushed cheeks and blown pupils give her away.
“Cocky little brat.” she mutters through gritted teeth.
“You think you can make me beg?”
"I've already got you moaning in Russian and I haven't even done a thing." She scoffs.
You smirk, then shove her cock back down your throat until you gag, drool spilling over your chin. You bob your head fast, messy, sloppy, both hands twisting her base while you suck like you’re trying to drain her soul. Natasha’s composure cracks. She fists the sheets so hard her knuckles go white. Her thighs tremble, hips bucking up into your mouth.
“Holy fuck... y/n, slow down or I’m-” She cuts herself off with a strangled moan, eyes rolling back. You pull off with a wet pop, wiping spit from your chin with the back of your hand, grinning up at her.
“What’s wrong, Nat? You look like you’re about to lose it.”
Her glare is weak now, her chest heaving. “You’re fucking... unreal.” You chuckle and go back down, this time keeping steady, swallowing her over and over, your throat clenching tight. Your spit is everywhere, on your lips, your chin, dripping onto your chest, soaking her cock until it’s shining. Her hand flies to your hair, tugging hard.
“Fuck y/n, you’re gonna fucking kill me.” You moan around her cock, eyes watering, mascara smudging, making the scene even filthier. When you come up for air again, you stroke her slick shaft and grin.
“Messy girl,” Natasha panted, eyes blown wide.
“Fuck, look at you. You love this, don’t you? Love choking on me like it’s the only thing you know how to do.” She's trying so hard to remain in control, but every time your lips leave her cock, that control breaks.
“Not so tough now, huh? Can’t even talk straight.” Natasha’s mouth opens but only a broken groan comes out. She’s shaking, her head falling back, sweat beading on her forehead. You can tell no one’s ever gotten to her like this, and you’re drunk on it.
“Say it.” you tease, licking her tip lazily.
“Say I’m the best you’ve ever had.” Her eyes snap open, blazing, but she’s too far gone to deny it. Her voice is hoarse, wrecked:
“You’re-the fucking best-goddamn it, y/n”
And you smile, wicked and satisfied, before swallowing her down again until she’s cursing in Russian, clawing at the sheets, completely undone. Every gag made her groan, and when you pulled back, strings of spit clung between your lips and her skin.
You pulled back again, just long enough to smirk, spit glistening down your chin. “What’s wrong, Nat? You usually have so much to say.” Her glare was feral, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Shut up and don’t you fucking stop.” That was your victory. You went back in with determination, tongue swirling, hollowing your cheeks, sucking until her thighs were trembling under your hands. She tried to hold back, you could feel it in the way her abs tensed, but you didn’t let up. You wanted to wreck her.
And then, she broke. A guttural curse in Russian tore from her throat as she spilled into your mouth, hot and thick, filling you until your cheeks puffed. Natasha’s eyes rolled back, her hand fisting your hair so tight it hurt, her whole body shaking as you swallowed around her. You looked up at her with glassy eyes, letting her see the way you gulped every drop down. When you pulled back, you stuck your tongue out, showing her it was gone.
Natasha stared at you, still panting, still speechless. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted in stunned silence.
“Speechless?” you teased, wiping spit from your chin with the back of your hand. She stares at you for a long minute before pulling you up for a kiss.
"Well I was right. Your mouth is better when it's around me." You roll your eyes playfully and she brings you in for another kiss.
Your hips slowly start moving after that. Your pussy grinds on her dick which makes both of you moan. Somehow it's enough to make her rock hard again and you drenched.
The redhead pounds into your pussy for the umpteenth time. You're placed onto your stomach, back arched while her hands grip your hips so hard, it may just leave a bruise the next day. You're moaning and sobbing into your pillow, your hands grabbing anything and everything for support. At one point, your hand had been placed on her stomach in attempt to get her to slow done, but she was having none of that.
"Don't be so fucking greedy. You can take toys but you can't take the real thing? Look at that. You're gonna take my cock like a good girl." She mocked before her hand slapped your ass.
You moaned in response and she simply brought both hands to your back to pull you flush against her. The sound of your ragged breaths and skin slapping bounces off the walls. It's so fucking filthy and obscene but again, you really couldn't care. She kisses you again, tongue dancing with yours but you can't even recuperate because she's fucking you so good. Your voice is hoarse as you beg her for more.
"Want more detka?" You nod your head and she pushes your head back down into the pillow and all you can do is sit there all pretty and fucked out while taking her dick. Her slender fingers move down to rub your clit in fast circles which has your moaning and sobbing.
"So pretty. Watching your pussy take my dick is so much better than those toys, don't you think so? Yeah, maybe I'll just have to record you riding me instead. You'd like that wouldn't you? Yeah baby? Of course you would." You mumble something incoherent into the pillow. At one point, your hand guided her to your hair, so she could pull it.
"You're such a perfect slut huh, all you needed was a good rough fucking to go dumb and obedient." She continues to rut into your pussy, hitting that spongy spot that made you see stars. Dammit, the woman was really obsessed with your pussy.
This went on for a long while. Different positions. At one point you were riding her for your dear life, she had you in reverse cow girl too and now she had you in missionary so she could watch your face contort in pleasure.
The room was still heavy with the heat of your bodies, skin slick and tangled in the sheets as Natasha drove into you at a steady pace, her jaw clenched, eyes locked on the way your body welcomed her so easily. The condom was doing its job, but you could feel every drag of her cock straining against it, and the frustration in her sharp breaths told you she felt it too.
Then it happened. One rough stroke, her hips jerking too far back, and her cock slipped out with a wet slap, the condom gleaming, sagging with your slick. Natasha cursed under her breath and reached down to line herself up again.
“Wait.”Your voice cut sharp through the air, stopping her mid-motion. Green eyes flicked up to yours, wild, almost panicked.
“Baby, what...” She actually whined.
You bit your lip, staring up at her with wide eyes, cheeks flushed, heart pounding.
“Take it off. I don’t want it.” The words knocked the air out of her. Natasha’s hand froze mid-motion, her chest rising and falling fast.
“Y/n…” her voice cracked with warning, but also with something raw, something breaking loose inside her.
“Do you even know what you’re asking me?”
“I do,” you whispered, reaching up to cup her face, your thumb stroking her jaw.
“I want to feel you. Just you. Nothing between us. I want to feel you finish inside me.” Hher lips parted, her breath shaky against yours. She looked torn, fighting it, her hand trembling as she held the base of her cock.
“Baby, if I take this off… I won’t be able to stop. You know that, right?” Your answer was immediate, desperate.
Something snapped in her. She hissed out a curse, yanked the condom off with a rough tug, and lined herself up again, this time bare, the blunt head of her cock hot and slick against your folds. The first push back inside you made both of you gasp. You could feel everything, every vein, every twitch, every pulse, stretching you open raw.
“Fuck, oh my fuck,” Natasha groaned, her face contorting as her forehead pressed to yours again.
“You feel like heaven. So warm, so fucking tight. How am I supposed to go back after this?” You moaned, wrapping your arms tight around her neck, pulling her down until her lips brushed yours.
“Don’t. Don’t ever go back.” Natasha’s hips moved with urgency now, her thrusts deeper, wetter, needier, the sounds obscene as your bodies met over and over. Every drag of her cock inside you made your stomach flutter, made your toes curl, made you cling to her like you’d drown if you let go.
“God, look at you,” she rasped, her lips brushing your cheek, your jaw, desperate kisses pressed anywhere she could reach.
“Letting your professor fuck you raw, telling me to cum inside you, fuck, you’re going to ruin me, y/n.”
“Good,” you whispered, legs hooking tight around her waist, anchoring her deep inside you.
That was it. Natasha’s rhythm broke, her hips snapping into you harder, sloppier, until she buried herself to the hilt and cried out, her cock twitching violently as she spilled hot inside you. She groaned your name against your lips, her whole body trembling with the force of it.
You felt it, the rush of warmth flooding deep, her cum filling you in thick spurts. The intimacy of it made your chest ache, your stomach flutter, butterflies turning into fire.
Natasha stayed buried deep, panting, clutching you like she couldn’t let go. Beads of sweat dripped down both of your foreheads as you came down. You exhaled before speaking again.
"Told you you'd love it bare." She only whimpered, too spaced out and speechless to talk. And when she pulled out? It was the best sight she could ever see, the perfect creampie. It was so perfect, she just had to fuck it back into you with slow strokes with her fingers. You whimpered, hips thrashing before she pulled her fingers out and licked them clean.
She kissed you again, you moaned, wrapping your hands around her neck before sighing into her mouth.
"What have I gotten myself into." She sighed, moving a strand of baby hair away from your face.
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Shit, I think I need to be quarantined after writing this. Although, I think I should turn this into a series? What do you guys think?
Anyways, tell me what you guys think and I'm taking requests now. Thanks for reading loves
