the queens favorite fuck doll

21!

[therealmswhore]

My Masterlist

Natasha Romanoff

Lion & The Lamb

Pretty Girl

Wanda Maximoff

Dark Wanda's Breeding Kink

WandaNat

Little One

Agathario x Wanda x Reader

Their Good Girl

Agathario

Dom Agathario Headcannons

Agathario Punishing You Headcannons

[spideyysenses]

She’s In Your Veins — I’ll Never Get Enough

Summary: As the second youngest child to Bruce Wayne, and adopted daughter of Selina Kyle you have all the luxury you could want. The only rule? You don’t put yourself at risk. And when you do your parents are quick to shut it down, but it’s too late to go back now, because Kara is all your find yourself thinking about.

WC: 4.8k

Authors Note: Thanks for all the likes and especially the comments. This is really my first x reader type fanfic so it means a ton! As always you may find this a little ooc for some characters but I tried to keep them as close as possible. Only slightly proofread!

Warnings: arguing, slightly overprotective parents, smut at the end, fingering, oral. I think that’s it!

series masterlist • previous part • next part

The first time you stir it’s to the sensation of being carried. “Krypto I’m moving as fast as I can.” Kara snaps at the dog, although her voice is hushed, “she’s fine buddy.”

Your head would argue otherwise. Did you really just pass out? Could a handful of shots of whatever really do that to you? “Define fine.” You rebuke as you move.

You feel both of you sway a little as your weight shifts, but Kara’s grip tightens around you. She’s carrying you bridal style to the ship, and you can smell the alcohol on her breath as the sounds of the bar fade behind you.

“You’ll live.” She says, but her voice isn’t as blunt as the first time you really spoke. It’s almost joking.

You remember that you basically went dark on your family and inhale sharply as you envision what will befall you tomorrow. Somehow despite the lingering dread you don’t regret coming with her. “Yeah no I won’t. Not when…” You don’t finish your thought.

She doesn’t push, and you feel your head spin as you work to keep it upright. “Sorry.” She says, and when you peer up you notice that she seemingly refuses to look down at you. “Forgot that the liquor out here is stronger than on earth. Probably should have gotten you to slow down.”

You shrug one shoulder and stare up at the sky. “I can walk.” You say suddenly, aware that she’s still carrying you despite your new found consciousness.

She stops, and you can almost see the doubt in her gaze. But you hate being told you can’t do something, you get it from both of your parents, and so with a small glare from you she begins to let you down. When your feet touch grass and go to move a step your world tilts again causing you to groan out in misery. You hear her laugh beside you and let your eyes narrow in mock anger at her.

She’s gently sweeping you up again. “I’m strong remember?” She says.

“Mhm bet you tell all the girls that.” You see her lips turn down. “Or guys.” You amend. Her nose scrunches up.

“No, girls.” She replies. “Although I really don’t—it’s been a while since...” She doesn’t finish, but she sets her jaw in a way that tells you that’s more from not wanting to continue than not knowing how to.

“I’m so embarrassed.” You say. “I didn’t even last that long.” She laughs again.

It’s more laughter than you thought you’d evoke from her, but it easily becomes a favourite sound of yours. She appears younger, lighter, when she does.

“An excuse to do this again.” You still in her grip as you see the ship come into view. Krypto barks and goes ahead of the both of you, but the antics of the dog don’t even phase you because you’re so focused on what she just said.

Did you hear that right?

“Again? Thought this was a one time deal?” You ask, and you can’t even pretend to be nonchalant about it. It makes you almost giddy to have her say it. Even though she won’t look at you while she does.

“Clark says I need friends on earth.” She shrugs and you feel your body grimace at the word. Friend. You’d take it, if means seeing her and getting away from your life once in a while, but it still stings just a tad.

When you’re in the ship she places you on the bed, Krypto hopping up after you and settling down onto your lap.

“I’ll get you back as quick as possible.” She says as she drops off a glass of water.

The second time you stir it’s to the sound of Kara lecturing her dog again. You’re beginning to gather this is a multiple times a day type of occurrence between the two of them.

“Krypto enough! Don’t go out there! I don’t have money for her fancy pillows if you ruin them.”

You can feel your lips lift despite your woozy state, but you’re not really coherent enough to be alert, or in full control of your body movements.

Instead you feel yourself being set softly onto a bed while your phone and other things are set beside you on the nightstand. You infer Kara merely used your key fob to get into your penthouse.

You expect her footfalls to retreat, but instead you just feel something plop onto your legs and settle. “What are you doing now?” You hear a huff and you know it’s Krypto. There’s a very long pause as if the two silently communicate.

“I can’t stay and neither can you buddy. I’m not getting caught by Bruce Wayne.” She whispers. Then she shifts you, takes off your shoes, and makes sure you’re on your side. “Don’t look at me like that.” She mutters.

When she’s done you can hear her footfalls towards the direction of your window, but Krypto doesn’t leave your side at all, and you hear a soft groan.

“Come on.” Kara urges quietly, and your mind swims towards sleep again. You want to push it off, to talk to her, but no words find their way. “Krypto I can’t okay?”

There comes a little whine but the dog jumps off from your bed leaving you to hold out just long enough to hear your window shut behind her.

When you stir for the third and final time the first thing you register is the pounding in your head, and you can’t help but wonder what the hell Kara gave you to drink, champagne never hurts this much. The second thing you register is that you’re home, with your window open to let in some fresh air, and you work to remember last night.

The third and final thing you register is the smell of food, and for a fleeting moment you wonder if Kara came back even though it’s irrational to think she would.

The smell makes your stomach churn miserably, and you’re up and stumbling for the bathroom before you can even think about it, stomach lurching into your open toilet. A pathetic sound escapes you as you try to calm your uneasy stomach.

“Fuck.” You whine as you feel about to heave again.

“That’s what will happen when you drink too much.” Your heart sinks a tad when your mother’s voice rings out in your on-suite. “Shower please and we’ll talk after.”

You wince. “Ma’ma I—”

“After.” She says firmly, and goes. You hear the clatter of plates a moment later. The shower does help you feel at least not so hungover, and you have to admit it feels nice to feel clean again, but it does little to soothe your screaming nerves.

When you leave your room, dressed and somewhat presentable, you whiten as you see that Bruce is in your kitchen too. In fact he’s the one that’s cooking, although it’s merely a bagel and some scrambled eggs. You don’t think you can stomach either at the moment.

Both your parents seem deep in conversation, but like the bat and cat they are, your slightest footstep alerts them to your presence. Both look up from what they’re doing, and meet your gaze, unable to hold their eyes you look away.

“Morning.” You say.

“Try afternoon.” Bruce corrects and you grimace as your eyes cast to the clock above your stove. Three in the afternoon to be exact. This only makes your stomach drop even more as you realize you missed classes, and your volunteer efforts.

“Shit.” You curse.

“Yes, well, darling what did you expect would happen when you went out and drank yourself drunk?” Selina says.

“I didn’t mean—” You begin.

“First of all, lets establish what exactly you didn’t mean to do, because we’re still unclear where you were.” Bruce says evenly. “All trace of you just gone! Barbara went into a panic.”

You flinch at that thought. You know how protective she is, and how fast she can make things happen. “I’ll apologize to her. I didn’t mean to make her worry. Or you two.”

You try not to focus on your own frustration right now, after all it’s not like you don’t know Barbara keeps track of you, she keeps track of everyone, but it grates on you more than normal right now.

“Still didn’t answer us.” Selina says and you twist to look at her before exhaling.

“I went out on a spur of the moment type thing and left my watch here by accident and then my phone died and—”

Both your parents tense and that’s when you know your lie didn’t work. “Try that again.” Bruce warns you, but you’re too focused on the pounding in your head.

Your mother seems to see this, and pushes forward water and pain meds. “Thanks ma’ma.” You say.

“Now answer our question.” She says.

You take a sharp inhale knowing it’s no use lying anymore. It’s quite clear they went the distance and got Barry to look for you.

“I went off world.” You whisper staring down at your hands.

The cooking pan clatters on your counter and you cringe.

“You what?” Bruce bellows and you shrink. You expect your mother to cut in, because she always does when your father gets like this, but when you peak at you see a cascade of emotions on her face.

“I-I went with a friend to a nearby planet and had a little bit of fun.” You repeat, but your voice is even smaller now.

“I can’t believe you!” Bruce snaps. “Off world?” He repeats. “What the hell were you thinking you can’t just go off this planet without telling me! Hell you can’t leave this planet at all!”

You feel agitation. “You have.” You quip but you know it’s a childish futile gesture born from not having any other come back.

“Oh you mean the times of crisis when I’ve had zero choice in the matter!” He snaps back at you. You know you should relent. It’s not in your nature to really, but you and Bruce are both stubborn and you know it’d be better to let him have this one.

“I’m an adult I don’t need your permission!” You challenge. Again, a failing argument, and one that makes your mother tense. Her fingers growing tight around her mug.

“I’m all for giving you your space, but B is right in this case, you don’t leave this planet unless you have our okay. Given the risk involved in it.” Selina defends, and this makes you roll back your shoulders.

“You’d never give your okay—”

“Yes, because you have no reason to go! Your life is here! Your job, your responsibility, is school and this family! It’s not taking a trip to space!” Bruce’s temper is rising and you begin to feel exhausted.

“I’m sorry okay! I’m sorry I went off world without telling you, I’m sorry I worried you, and I’m sorry that for once I wasn’t perfect!”

They both let out a groan at this, and Bruce seems about to snap back at you but your mother slips her hand over his.

“Give us a moment B?” She asks. “You need to cool down.”

He looks between you and her and exhales sharply. “Fine.” He says briskly, and leaves.

You jump at the slight slam to your door. You and Selina stay there in silence for a long time until she finally rubs her temples in clear frustration.

“Well are you happy?” She asks. “Did you get your bit of rebellion in?” You hate the almost condescending choice of words.

“I didn’t rebel I merely lived my life.” You defend. “I’m fine you and dad are just blowing this out of proportion!”

Wrong thing to say because she’s up from her seat and she has your chin, not harshly enough that it hurts, but enough that it doesn’t feel merely as gentle or fretting as it usually does—and you know that you’ve messed up.

It usually takes a lot for you to push your mother to the point where she gets truly upset with you. She told you once after an argument that she tries to save her frustrations for the scum bags of Gotham instead.

“Want to try talking to me like an adult kitten?” She says lowly. “Because unlike your father I’m trying very hard not to do the whole overbearing parent routine with you, but I can.”

You stare at her and squirm a little, but she doesn’t let you go, your silent plea for her to let up dismissed. In fact she only squeezes just enough to make her point.

“I just wanted to let go and you know what I did! I went out and I got drunk until I couldn’t walk,” her eyes narrow, “and I danced! And nobody knew me! I didn’t have cameras on me! I didn’t…”

With a tsk she lets your chin go.

“So the plan is to start to make deliberate mistakes to what?” You let your gaze move to the wall beyond her, that feels easier than her eyes, and she sighs when you don’t respond. “You can forget it. Your dad and I have worked too hard to see you derail yourself because you’ve suddenly decided you don’t want to communicate properly.”

“Like anyone in this family does.” You gripe. You both know you’ve got her there, none of you really do, but it doesn’t seem to deter her.

“I don’t know who took you off world, but I do know you’re not doing it again.” You feel your heart thud. You knew this would be the outcome, but the idea of never going out there with Kara when you just got her to offer feels cruel.

“Ma’ma—”

“It’s not a negation darling!” She snaps finally. “Card and keys.” Your eyes widen. “You’ll have a driver again—”

You tilt your head back and groan at her. “It’s not like you’re not both tracking me through that cave anyways!” You snap.

“Finish your semester without pulling another…” she waves her hand, “and then we’ll speak.”

You don’t reply, and she begins to head for the door. “Oh and you will be at family dinner tonight!” She calls back as your door slams.

“Fuck.” You mutter.

One month passes and you really do try to finish the semester normally, to fall back into your old routine with practiced ease, but the only thing that seems to linger in your mind is Kara.

It’s no longer the idea of her that does, or how attractive you find her, but really her. Her grin, her hands on you, the way she let go when dancing with you. You want more of her.

So much so that you wait. You wait in a way that you haven’t waited for something since you were about seven. The waiting comes with the bonus that your parent cool off, Bruce now referring to your trip as ‘the incident’ and firmly believing it won’t happen again. Your life has practically returned to the same as before, and you try to lie to yourself and say it’s fine, but it’s not.

When a month and a half passes without so much as a follow up you want to whack yourself. Of course she didn’t actually mean it. She was drunk. You were drunk. There’s no reason for Kara to want to be around you. She’s Supergirl for heaven’s sake. You may be a Wayne but you doubt that matters to her.

When two months roll around you’ve given up, but you wonder if Kara has some lingering way of knowing that, because she stands waiting at the bottom of your building with a single flower in hand as you return from volunteering.

It’s wilted a tad, and actually kind of pathetic, and it should embarrass you the way your heart still flutters are the sight.

She doesn’t make a grand show, doesn’t even speak as you near, but Krypto does. When he spots you he closes the distance easily, leaping up and practically tackling you. You thank god you decided to wear sneakers today.

She tugs the dog back off of you, but you’re laughing now as he gets in a final rather gross kiss. “Missed you too Krypto.” You say, hand reaching out for him.

“And me?” Kara asks.

You jerk your head up to look at her. She’s not looking at you, but the flower is outstretched slightly as if it’s a peace offering.

“I could ask you that. It’s been a while.” You see her wince at the accusation in your tone.

“Space.” She tries to cover.

“Space.” You echo, not convinced that’s a fraction of the reason.

The first two times you actually spoke Kara was gruff and rough around the edges, hard to read, and one step removed. Now she seems anxious in a way she tries not to let show, and it makes you take the flower despite the little bit of hurt you feel. She seems to deflate in relief when you do.

“Got a little smushed.” She’s rubbing the back of her neck. “So, I heard about the no off world sentence.” You scrunch up your face and let out a huff.

“Fantastic. Did you get in trouble?”

“No.” She says. “More like it was work talk from Clark, a passing comment don’t worry, they don’t know it was me.” You’re surprised almost at the lack of relief in her voice.

“My dad as expected went ballistic, and surprisingly so did my mother.” You say. You shift on your feet and watch her.

“Do you like old movies?” She asks suddenly. “Because there’s one playing and I’d like to go.” Your eyes widen. “With you.”

“You would?” You ask. Now she looks at you, still somewhat guarded, but more open than you’ve seen her before.

“Yeah.” She says. “I would.”

“Let me go change.” You say and go to move, but she takes your arm gently, sending those sparks through you.

“You look nice.” She says sheepishly. “You don’t need to.” You feel your palms grow a little sweaty.

“Okay.” You reply as you gesture to your waiting car.

You thought you knew all of Gotham, but Kara leads you to an old movie theatre. It hasn’t got any new movies, just older ones like she said, and you recognize a lot of films your mom used to like.

It brings a small smile to your face, which Kara catches, and you feel the nerves in you settle as she orders the tickets and the food. Which is a lot more but you don’t comment. When you offer to pay she merely waves your card away.

“It’s an apology.” She says simply. “Wouldn’t be one if I make you pay.”

You’re not used to that of course. Most people, even your friends, enjoy your father’s limitless funds. You don’t mind or course, with them, but this makes you feel… different.

Again. You hate how Kara makes you feel different in a way you can’t explain.

When you settle down for the movie it takes a minute, but Kara spreads out and in the process slings her arm around the back of your chair. She doesn’t come close to actually touching you, and neither of you comment on it, but you’re happy for the darkness of the theatre as it hides your blush.

Hours later when you and Kara step out into the cool night instantly her eyes ghost upwards to the sky. “Comforting?” You ask out of the blue.

She stops as if you’ve caught her in the act of something. “Less overwhelming.” She admits. “Earth is a lot.”

You see her eyes move around the city, and you take a moment. Up close you can’t help the way your eyes take in the gentle slope of her nose, or the set of her jaw, or the way those green eyes… god her eyes.

“Thank you.” You say. “For tonight. For a bit of… normal.” She’s grinning now, however slight, and you return it.

“Thank you for bribing them to let Krypto in. I was sure he’d cause mayhem but with you he’s oddly… calm.” You notice the way her throat bobs when she admits it to you, and you step closer to her. “And thank you… for saying yes.”

And there it is again, the thing she can’t seem to say, and however much you wish to know you don’t push. Just slowly take her hand.

“I’m glad you came back. I hoped you would.” You note that her cheeks flush at your admission and it makes your grin grow. Finally you feel like the nerves she makes you feel are mutual and that knowledge makes you bold. “Will Krypto listen if you ask him to go to Clark for a bit?” You’ve closed the gap even more now.

“Probably not.” She says. “They don’t really—oh.” She stops when you raise an eyebrow at her, and suddenly she’s leaning down in front of the dog.

She speaks in that language you’re not familiar with, but you can tell by the stubborn look the dog gets that she’s trying to get him to listen.

Finally she sighs. “Krypto buddy come on.” She hisses under her breath, and you have to stifle your laughter into the back of your hand.

Finally the dog looks back at you, and you give him a pleading look. With a huff the dog raises into the air and goes jetting off. Kara exhales in relief before she gets the door to your car.

You slide into the backseat and she follows in a fluid motion. The whole way back to your penthouse you refrain from tapping your foot impatiently. You may have lost your ability to play it cool with Kara after the first time you met her, but you still have some dignity.

You think when you finally shut the door behind you that you’ll be the first to kiss her, but she surprises you as she pushes you up against the back of your door. Her leg slotting between your own causing you to let out a tiny breath of surprise.

“Kara—”

“—you sure?” She breathes as if winded, even though you know it isn’t possible here, and you break away from her for a second.

“I’m sure.” You affirm, and her lips are back on yours before the final syllable even leaves you. As she deepens the kiss you can only loop your arms around her neck in an attempt to balance yourself.

You can feel her strength even in her kiss, although you can also tell she’s trying desperately to hold back. “Can’t get you off my mind.” She mumbles into your neck. “No matter how hard I try. Hate it.”

You want to retort something back, but as her kisses become bruising as her thigh pushes up and adds pressure to where you want it most.

“Bed.” You demand.

She’s lifting you in one swift movement so your legs are forced to wrap around her as she carries you from the doorway to your room, dropping you onto the bed and removing your heels. Normally you look forward to that feeling, but Kara’s touch is the only thing you want right now.

She stares down at you. “Beautiful.” She whispers as if she hates to admit it and you smile back up at her.

“All yours if you want me.” You tease, and you don’t anticipate the dark look that comes over her for a moment when you do. Then she’s stripping off her clothing until all that’s left is her underwear.

Your eyes widen at her muscles, subtle when underneath clothing, but defined when you see them up close. Her biceps now those… You take them in your hands and squeeze as she comes to loom over you and it makes her eyes flutter shut.

You can tell she likes the feeling because when she brings her knee between your legs again, this time with a soft roll, you grip tighter and it causes her to let out a tiny groan.

Your whole body is on fire and once again you debate begging. How is it that one woman can make you want to beg so much when you’ve never wanted to before.

“Kara please.” You say as her lips find yours.

“Such a rush.” She grumbles. “Can’t I take my time?” Your hands merely come to tangle through her blonde curls as her lips find your neck again.

“I’ve been waiting months.” You remind, and you know you’ve won for now because you feel a soft huff as her lips travel even further down to your collarbone. The only thing that stops her from going right to your chest is that you’re still in your blouse.

“Gonna rip it—”

“—wait—”

Too late. Kara’s certainly too impatient to deal with the buttons and even if she wasn’t she’d likely break them anyway.

“I liked that shirt.” You complain.

“—sorry.” She says as she undoes your bra and you thank the stars it’s saved by having a front clasp. “Make it up to you. Promise.”

The minute her lips wrap around your sensitive nipples you can’t help it anymore. Your back arches into her, and you can tell it spurs her on. “God.” You curse.

“Only God-like.” She corrects and you groan at her poor joke.

“Unbelievable.” You complain but the smile is on your features anyways. She rewards you with finally pushing your skirt up.

“So wet.” She notes and your whole face feels on fire at her tone. “All for me?”

“Don’t get an ego about it.” You retort, but you don’t help make your point with the low moan you let out as her finger pushes into you.

She’s careful at first, slow, pumping in and out at a pace that you can only describe as torturous—but you don’t complain. You understand she’s finding a groove with how strong she is.

Finally though she begins to speed up, and embarrassingly your thighs are already beginning to tremble a little as the rhythm she sets causes delicious pleasure.

You squirm under her as one turns to two then to three. For a woman that says she hasn’t really had a lot of relationships the way she moves her fingers is just shy of skilled as she alternates between hooking them deeper into you just right, and allowing for more pressure to your clit.

“God please Kara!” You say as your legs shake around her. Your eyes have been more or less screwed shut as she works you up. The burning feeling in your stomach becoming unbearable as she does.

“So pretty.” She whispers and your eyes open just long enough to see that she’s watching you with a look of… wonder?

It makes you feel hot under her gaze. “I’m close.” You breathe. She doesn’t even meet your gaze, just shifts down the bed.

“I want to taste you.” She says, but she phrases it like she’s asking you. The small whine that leaves you is mortifying but it seems to spur her on because her fingers leave you other than to play with your clit, and her tongue replaces them.

She hums in delight when she has to physically hold your hips down as they raise to meet her mouth. You try to remind yourself to remember that fact if you ever get a second chance at this.

You could swear despite eating a lot at the movies that she acts like she’s starving, and you can feel her groan when she lets her tongue suck in a way you swear no other person you’ve been with has managed to achieve.

“I’m so close.” You beg her. “Please Kara I need…”

She doesn’t respond verbally, but she curls her tongue at the same time she applies just enough pressure to your clit that it doesn’t matter. You ride out the fading pleasure against her lips, and when you’re done your chest is heaving.

She settles back onto her heels as she watches you. “Give me a second and then I can—” You begin, moving to touch her.

“No.” Her voice sounds a little rough. “Just wanna focus on you for now.” She notes. You frown at her as she gets off your bed.

“Kara?” Your voice feels small now as the thought of her leaving comes to mind.

She turns back to look at you with a frown.“Just getting water.” She says. You feel yourself relax.

“So you’re staying?” You ask, scared of her answer.

“I want to… if you want me to.” She admits gingerly.

“I do.” You say with a small smile. “You and Krypto.” You add.

Her grin grows. “Let’s have a couple more moments of peace first.”

[opaleine]

kara really likes how good you taste

content warning: nsfw , mdni , kara zor-el/fem!reader , pussy eating , kara being sweet , gay gay gayyyy because i am gayyy for kara 😵‍💫

you feel her breath first—hot, uneven against your slick skin—and you can't help the way your thighs try to press together, a reflex born from shyness more than anything else. your hands come up to cover your face, embarrassed by how wet you already are, how much you want this.

"hey," kara murmurs, her voice soft, her hands gentle as they ease your thighs apart. "look at me."

you shake your head, peeking through your fingers. she's so beautiful between your legs, her blonde hair falling around her face, those blue eyes warm and patient. she's smiling—not teasing, just soft and full of love.

"what's wrong, baby?" she asks, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. then another. then another, working her way up slowly. "y’know i've got you."

"i know," you whisper, your voice small. "i just—it's a lot. you're a lot."

she laughs, that bright, musical sound that makes your heart flutter. "i'll take that as a compliment." she presses a kiss to your hip bone, then lower, her lips brushing against your slick folds so lightly you barely feel it. "just relax for me, okay? let me take care of you."

you nod, your hands moving from your face to her hair, fingers threading through the soft strands. she hums in approval, the sound vibrating against your skin, and then she finally, finally lowers her mouth to where you need her most.

the first touch of her tongue is so gentle, barely there, a delicate swipe through your folds that makes you gasp. she's testing you, learning your reactions, and when you whimper and push your hips toward her, she takes it as permission to go deeper.

"that's it," she breathes against you, her warm breath ghosting over your clit. "just like that, baby. let me hear you."

her tongue circles your clit slowly, deliberately, drawing out every sensation until you're trembling beneath her. your grip on her hair tightens, not to pull her away but to hold her there, to keep her close. she moans at the pressure, the sound sending sparks through your entire body.

"kara—"

"i know, sweetheart," she murmurs, her lips brushing against your sensitive flesh. "i know. just let go for me."

her tongue dips lower, sliding through your folds, collecting your wetness before pushing inside you. the sensation makes you cry out, your back arching off the mattress, and she groans against you, the vibration making everything more intense. she fucks you with her tongue slowly, deeply, like she's savoring every drop of you, and you can feel yourself getting closer, the pressure building in your core.

"you taste so good," she says, pulling back just enough to speak, her chin slick and glistening. "i could do this forever."

you whimper, covering your face again, and she laughs softly before diving back in. her tongue finds your clit and focuses there, flicking rapidly, alternating between soft teasing and firm pressure until you're sobbing, tears streaming down your cheeks, your hips bucking against her mouth.

"that's it," she encourages, her voice muffled against you. "let go, baby. i've got you."

and you do. you let go, your orgasm washing over you in waves, your body trembling and shaking as she laps at you through it, never stopping, never slowing, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you're a boneless, crying mess beneath her.

she crawls up the bed afterward, gathering you in her arms, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your lips. "you did so good," she whispers. "so good for me."

rory’s note . . . missed you guys, i’ll posting for clark tomorrow hehehehe ! requests open for clark and kara !! 🤭🤭

[indie-navarrete]

JENNIFER'S BODY // (2009) — dir. karyn kusama

[girllbloggerrr]

i wish i was needy

[0l10c]

Jennifer Check x female reader

𒁂 Jennifer as your girlfriend

fluff, mentions of blood, mention of violence and victims

• She bites you during kisses — not hard enough to really hurt, but enough to leave a mark. "So everyone knows who you belong to," she says, licking her lips. Her smile is too sharp to be just playful.

• She never apologizes for what she eats in front of you. You've seen what she eats. You've seen what's left. You don't ask questions. She appreciates that.

• She comes to you in the middle of the night, covered in blood — someone else's or her own, you can't tell anymore. "Do you have a shower?" she asks, like nothing happened. You turn on the water. She undresses without shame. You still look away — not because you're disgusted, but because it's too much.

• She protects you fiercely, almost crazily. Someone dared to hurt you? That person isn't seen the next day. You don't ask what happened. Jennifer just smiles and takes your hand. "Don't worry. They won't bother you again."

• She loves your blood. Not to drink — just to look at. If you cut yourself, she takes your hand, holds it up to the light, and studies it like a painting. "Yours is so bright," she whispers. You don't know if that's a compliment or not.

• She gets jealous so hard the walls shake. If someone gets too close to you, Jennifer stands behind you, puts her hands on your shoulders, and smiles. That smile that gives people goosebumps. That's usually enough.

• She remembers every sacrifice you've made for her. Not that you've killed anyone — but you've ignored calls, lied to your parents, stayed with her instead of going to friends. She doesn't say thank you. She just presses closer and whispers: "You're my good girl. Mine." That's enough.

• She smells like copper and jasmine. You've gotten used to it. You even like it. Sometimes you catch yourself breathing her in when she's near. She notices and smirks: "Like it? It's expensive perfume." You don't know if she's joking.

• She never says "I love you" directly. She says "you smell tasty." She says "I'd eat you last." She says "don't leave tonight. I'm bored without you." You've learned to translate.

• She loves when you wash her hair. Bath, warm water, soap bubbles. She closes her eyes and leans her head back against the edge. You work in the shampoo, rinse, repeat. She doesn't move. "Stay," she whispers. It's the only time she looks almost normal. Almost human.

• She gives you strange gifts. A silver ring she "found." A chain that definitely belonged to someone. A heart-shaped keychain — with a small red stain on the corner. You accept everything. You never ask where it came from.

• She checks to see if you're watching her. Not out of paranoia — she wants to be caught. She wants to know you're thinking about her when she's not there. One time she caught your gaze across the whole school hallway and smiled so wide you forgot how to breathe.

• She wakes up hungry. Not physically hungry — another kind. She sits up in bed, grips the sheets, and stares at one spot. You reach out your hand to her. She takes it. After a minute, she exhales and blinks normally. "Aren't you afraid of me?" she asks sometimes. You don't answer. You are afraid. But you're still here.

• She traces your face with her finger while you sleep. From your temple to your chin. From your lips to your cheekbone. "Pretty," she whispers. "Mine." You learned long ago not to open your eyes. That way she keeps going. That way you hear everything she'll never say in the light.

• She brings you flowers. Red. Very red. Somehow they're always fresh, even though she could have picked them anywhere, anytime. You put them in a vase. They last longer than they should. You don't think about it.

• She laughs when you panic. Not meanly — almost gently. "Shh, little one," she says, pulling you against her. "If I wanted to eat you, I would have done it already." You never know for sure if she's joking. You prefer not to find out.

• She stands in the rain waiting for you. She doesn't take cover, doesn't run. Just stands there, arms spread, water running down her face, her hair, her clothes. "I love the rain," she says when you come out. "It washes away the things I don't want to remember." You open an umbrella over her head. She takes it from you and tosses it aside. "I want to get wet with you."

• She knows you're afraid. She knows every shadow of yours, every breath, every second you doubt. "You think I'm a monster," she says, not asking. You're silent. "But you're still here. That makes you either very brave or very stupid." She kisses your forehead. "I love both."

• She never promises not to hurt you. "I don't know how to promise," she says. "I only know how to stay." You nod. It's better than a lie. It's Jennifer, the way she can be — honest just enough to make you stay.

• She chooses you. Every day, every hunger, every dark night — she chooses you. Not because you taste better (though that's also true). But because you're the only one who looks at her and doesn't run. "You're a shitty lifeline," she said once. "But you're mine." And she smiled. Fangs. You smiled back. Teeth.

[splattynatty1984]

Natasha Romanoff keeps eye contact while she eats pussy.

[themidnightcrimson]

I just know she’s a head pusher

[natsaffection]

In her grip. | N.R

When the Avengers get a rare break, Natasha isn’t looking for company, until Maria drags her to an exclusive underground club. She’s unimpressed… until a girl takes the stage. What begins as a game of seduction quickly turns into a collision of power, control, and raw desire. But in the hands of the Black Widow, surrender isn’t given..it’s taken. And when it is, she’s not cruel.

Older!Natasha x Younger!Stripper!Reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI!, Age gap, power play, seductive behavior, begging, edging, praise, oral, fingering (both r receiving) overstimulation, aftercare

Word count: 4,9k

A/N: Phonk music and TikTok is to blame.

The weight bag groaned from the ceiling with every brutal punch Natasha threw at it. She wasn’t pulling her hits, no, this wasn’t just training. It was a purge.

Her hair was damp, sticking to her temples and the nape of her neck. Black sports bra tight across her back, leggings hugging every toned curve, her body moved like a weapon, but her face? That was the giveaway. The furrow in her brow, the tightness in her jaw-

“You know..“ came a voice from the doorway, “I’m starting to worry about the bag’s survival.”

Natasha didn’t turn. She knew that voice. stepped inside, arms folded over her chest, boots clicking against the floor with that usual swagger of hers. She looked relaxed, but the gleam in her eyes was anything but.

Natasha gave the bag one final, punishing jab, then let it swing while she grabbed a towel and wiped her face. Maria smirked. “You’re wound tighter than a fuckin’ tripwire. Something you wanna share with the class?”

“Not particularly.” Natasha muttered, tossing the towel over her shoulder and heading to the bench for a bottle of water.

Maria followed like a shadow, plopping down beside her. “Rough mission, sure. But you’ve been edgy before it. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Natasha rolled the bottle between her palms, shoulders still heaving with adrenaline. “Just need to move.”

“You need more than that, Nat.” Maria paused, cocked her head. “When was the last time you got laid?”

Natasha froze, and Maria watched her like a hawk. “Jesus. That long?”

A beat passed, and Natasha continued to stare at the floor. Then..“Shut up.”

Maria burst out laughing, the kind that came from deep in the belly, tossing her head back. “Goddamn, that’s tragic..You’re practically vibrating with unsatisfied rage.”

“I don’t do casual.” Natasha stood, running both hands through her hair, frustration pouring off her. “I don’t need some pretty little thing trying to fuck her way into my life.”

Maria leaned back on her hands, one brow rising. “Who said anything about casual? Or pretty little things?”

Natasha gave her a look. “You did.”

“Okay, yes…Usually.” Maria grinned wolfishly. “But I’ve found something…different. A club. Not your usual drunken mess of horny civilians. It’s..how do I put this? A place for people who know what they want. Who know how to ask for it.”

Natasha snorted. “Sounds like a high-end brothel with extra steps.”

Maria chuckled. “I knew you’d say that. But hear me out, this place? No names, no games. Just honesty and consent. You walk in, you see someone, you feel them. No pressure, and you can leave with nothing, or leave dripping.”

Natasha tilted her head, curiosity breaking through her irritation. “And what exactly are you trying to sell me here?”

Maria leaned closer, voice dropping. “There’s someone there. A girl..Comes in a few nights a week. Young..early twenties, maybe. Smart, sharp eyes. Doesn’t chase attention, but she gets it. I thought of you the second I saw her.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “You trying to be my pimp now?”

“No..“ Maria smirked, “I’m being your best friend. And your best friend thinks you need someone who’ll look at you like you’re not just an Avenger. Someone who wants to fuck you, but also maybe…touch you like you matter.”

Natasha’s lips parted slightly, chest still rising with shallow breaths, but Maria saw the flicker, deep in those green eyes..the hunger. The ache.

“Come tonight.“ Maria said, standing. “Just to look.”

“…One drink.“ she said finally.

Maria’s grin widened. “That’s all I’m asking.”

——

The night air wrapped around them like silk as they stepped out of the black car. The building looked unassuming from the outside, tucked behind mirrored glass and a discreet entrance guarded by two silent men in tailored black. No name, no sign. Just a scarlet light above the door that pulsed like a heartbeat.

Maria gave Natasha a wink as they walked in. “Try not to kill anyone.”

The moment they crossed the threshold, everything changed.

Inside was decadence. Red velvet walls, gilded chandeliers dripping crystals. Smoke curling lazily through the air, scented with musk and something sweeter like sin. The air vibrated with the low thrum of bass, deep and primal. Bars lined each side, carved from obsidian and gold. Above them, platforms and poles stretched high into shadows where dancers moved like liquid temptation, some in leather, others in nothing at all.

Natasha’s sharp eyes scanned the room, cataloging exits out of habit. But tonight wasn’t about missions. It was about indulgence.

They made their way to the bar, Maria’s hand brushing her shoulder like a whisper, “Thoughts?” Maria asked, sliding onto the tall stool beside her.

Natasha took a seat, spreading her legs lazily, unbothered by the low lit crowd or the way eyes followed her. She wore black skin-tight leather pants and a sleeveless mock neck that clung to her like sin. Every line of her body said one thing: untouchable.

A tall, curvy bartender approached all smoky eyeliner and lips too red to be innocent. She leaned forward, cleavage pushed high, smile full of promise.

“Well, aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes…” Her gaze landed on Natasha and stayed there. “What’s your poison, handsome?”

Natasha smirked. “Surprise me.”

“Mmm..“ the bartender purred. “I’d love to.”

Natasha leaned on one elbow, her gaze cool. “You always flirt with customers, or am I just lucky?”

The bartender laughed, a low, sultry sound. “Only the dangerous ones.”

Maria hid her grin behind her glass as Natasha fired back effortlessly, the two exchanging barbed flirtation like they’d done it a thousand times before. But even as the bartender leaned in and licked her lips, Natasha’s expression didn’t shift. She was playing, but not playing along.

Maria glanced at her watch. “Almost time..” she murmured. As if on cue, the lights dimmed and the music slowed. The crowd quieted not completely, but just enough that a shift rolled through the club like a breath held in suspense.

A man, clearly the manager, stepped onto a small platform near the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen.“ he announced, voice tight, “tonight’s…main attractions!”

Dancers began to emerge: graceful, practiced, beautiful. The room responded with appreciation and hunger.

But Natasha didn’t. She lifted her glass, uninterested, “Is this the part where I pretend to be impressed?” she asked Maria.

Maria didn’t answer. She was watching the stage. And then..she arrived. The lights cut sharply, and a single spotlight flared, casting everything else into shadow.

The girl stepped onto the stage like she owned it. She didn’t just walk..She commanded. Every muscle in her body moved with liquid confidence, her skin glowing under the lights, hair cascading like a halo from hell. She wore barely anything, a blood-red silk bodysuit that clung to her like it was sewn onto her flesh, thighs wrapped in delicate chains, heels sharp enough to wound.

And she was beautiful. Not in a try-hard way. Not caked in glitter or neon. Just pure..a kind of pretty that wasn’t polished but dangerous. Lips parted, expression calm, eyes scanning the crowd with slow precision. And when her gaze found Natasha, it stayed.

Natasha exhaled through her nose, a dry, amused smile twitching at her lips. She turned away, back to her drink. The condensation slid down the side of the glass and pooled at her fingertips.

Maria, beside her, said nothing at first, just watched her with a smug little curl at the corner of her mouth. Natasha didn’t look at her. “She’s pretty.”

“Mhm.“ Maria hummed, sipping. “Thought you’d like her.”

“She’s cocky.”

“Like someone else I know.”

Natasha let the moment hang, rolling the liquor in her glass, eyes fixed on the amber swirl like it held answers she didn’t want.

“She knows what she’s doing.” she finally said, voice soft and even. “That’s rare.”

Maria raised a brow. “You’re impressed.”

“I’m watching.” Natasha corrected, though there was a subtle pull in her voice, something distracted and tense in the way her shoulders held. Maria smirked, but said nothing more.

The conversation shifted, flickered half-warm, half-distracted, Natasha pulling herself away from the ache building in her gut. She was fine. Just tired, just- Fingertips on her shoulder.

Natasha didn’t flinch. She already knew who it was. She took a slow sip of her drink before turning her head, just enough to glance over her shoulder.

Up close, you were worse. Better. Your eyes were sharper than she’d thought, mouth curved with something between challenge and amusement. You smelled warm, alive, dangerously close.

She turned fully now, gaze sliding over you in a way that was anything but shy. You smiled first. “You’re quieter than I expected.”

Natasha’s brow lifted. “Disappointed?”

“No. No..just curious.”

Maria leaned back, watching the exchange like a tennis match she’d paid good money for.

“So.“ you said, voice low, controlled. “Is it true?”

Natasha arched a brow. “Depends on what.”

“That the Black Widow never comes here.”

Natasha leaned back slightly, gaze dragging over you with slow, deliberate intent. “You seem well-informed.”

You smiled, not innocent, Never that.. “Occupational hazard.”

You stepped closer so there was no space at all. “You’re not impressed easily.“ you murmured. “That’s…attractive.”

Natasha leaned in just enough that her words brushed your ear. “And you’re not subtle.”

Natasha’s lips curved. She let her fingers trail along your wrist, slow, testing..before withdrawing. “You think you’re seducing me, aren’t you?“ Natasha said calmly. “But you’re still standing.”

You swallowed. “Maybe I like the tension.”

Natasha’s eyes darkened. “Careful. I don’t play gentle.”

That caught you, just a fraction of a pause. A missed beat, but Natasha instantly saw it. Her eyes darkened, something feral flickering behind the calm. She leaned in slightly, just enough to tilt the balance. “You’re good.“ she murmured. “But you’re trying a little..too hard.”

There it was.. The smirk. The slow, satisfied, dangerous smirk.. But you recovered fast, too fast but Natasha had already clocked the way your breath changed.

You straightened “Careful. You might hurt my feelings.”

“I doubt it.” Natasha said softly. “You don’t strike me as fragile.”

Silence stretched, and you smiled again. “Enjoy your drink, Romanoff.” you said, voice smooth as sin. “I’ll see you around.”

And then you turned and walked away. Natasha tracked you with her eyes despite herself, watching the sway of your hips disappear into the crowd.

Maria glanced at her, and saw the vein in Natasha’s temple. “Well..” Maria said lightly, standing. “You know what? I’m going to make very bad decisions with that blonde over there.”

Natasha didn’t respond, she just lifted her glass again, playing it off, but her eyes..kept searching. Then she saw you again. Across the club, laughing softly with another woman now. Natasha felt it then, a slow burn in her gut. Interest sharpened into something darker.

Words replayed in her head, the pause you hadn’t hidden well enough, you’re cocky answers..She looked around, and when Maria finally disappeared into the crowd, Natasha waited a full minute.

Then she stood.

You felt her before you saw her. A presence behind you, close and overwhelming. A chill slid down your spine even as heat bloomed low in your stomach.

You smiled to yourself. Got you.

“Careful.“ Natasha’s voice came from just behind your ear. “She’s not very interesting.”

The woman you’d been talking to startled, glanced between you and Natasha, and bolted. Natasha didn’t watch her leave, her attention was fully on you. She stepped in, one arm bracing against the wall beside your head. Not touching you. Just close enough that escape was a choice, one she knew you wouldn’t take.

Her eyes dragged over your face, slow and deliberate. “You walked away.” Natasha said quietly. “That was bold.”

You met her gaze, heart hammering. “You looked like you needed a reminder.”

“You think you’re in control.“ she murmured. “That’s cute.”

You moved first, through the crowd, past bodies slick with sweat and perfume, heels clicking just loud enough to be heard. You didn’t look back, but you felt her. That pressure at your spine. That awareness that made your skin prickle.

You knew she was following. Your shoulders rolled back, confidence sharpened into something provocative. You slowed just a little near the corridor marked PRIVATE, fingers brushing the velvet curtain like an invitation.

The hallway swallowed sound. Music dulled into a distant thrum. The door at the end opened under your hand, and before you could fully step inside, the presence behind you surged.

The door slammed shut..and you barely had time to inhale. Suddenly you were pressed to the wall, breath knocked from your lungs as a solid body pinned you there. One hand wrapped around both your wrists, forcing them above your head in a single, efficient movement.

Your pulse spiked instantly, heat flooding low and sharp. The wall was cool against your back, a brutal contrast to the body crowding you. Her other hand planted beside your head, caging you in completely. No escape routes, no space. Her face was inches from yours, eyes dark, pupils blown just enough to betray her restraint.

“You planned that.” she said quietly.

Not a question..Your breath came uneven. “Maybe.”

Her grip tightened, just enough to remind you who had the leverage. Your wrists burned deliciously where she held them.

“You like being chased.“ Natasha murmured. “But you didn’t think about what happens when you’re caught, Solnyshko.”

Her voice was low, and so much controlled in a way that promised violence if she let go.

You swallowed. “I was hoping you’d show me.” You whispered, and something flashed behind Natasha’s eyes. She leaned in, lips brushing your ear but not touching. “Careful.” she whispered. “I don’t stop once I start.”

Her thigh slid between yours, pinning you further, pressure deliberate. You gasped softly despite yourself, hips betraying you before your mouth could.

Natasha noticed. Of course she did. A smirk curved her lips..slow, knowing. “There it is.”

Her forehead rested briefly against yours, breath warm, steady. She wasn’t rushed, no, she was savoring this. Savoring you.

“You walked away earlier because you wanted this..” she said. “You wanted me angry. Interested. Off balance.”

She lifted her head slightly, eyes locking onto yours. “Congratulations.”

Her grip shifted, still firm, still dominant, but her thumb brushed the inside of your wrist, right over your pulse. “I’m very interested.”

Your chest rose and fell rapidly now, body humming under her control. “And angry?”

Natasha’s smile turned dangerous. “No.” she said softly. “Focused.”

She leaned in again, this time letting her lips graze the corner of your mouth, barely there, teasing, cruel.

“And you..“ she murmured, “are going to learn exactly what that means.”

She didn’t kiss you yet, didn’t touch you anywhere else. She just held you there pinned, breathing, aching, letting the anticipation coil tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable.

Your wrists were still trapped above your head, fingers flexing uselessly against her grip. Natasha’s eyes searched your face like she was memorizing every crack forming in your composure. She said nothing, that was the worst part.

Silence was her weapon.

She leaned in slowly, so slowly it felt cruel. Her nose brushed yours. You could feel the warmth of her breath, the faint scent of vodka and something darker. Her lips hovered just there. Close enough that your body reacted instinctively, betraying you with a soft, shaky inhale.

Natasha stopped..a fraction of an inch away. Your breath stuttered. Your hips shifted before you could stop yourself, desperate, needy, aware. You hated how much you wanted it..and loved it more.

Her eyes dropped to your mouth, completely Waiting. The tension coiled tighter, tighter, until it snapped.

“Please..” you breathed.

The word barely existed in the air before Natasha’s expression changed.

She won.

A low sound left her throat, not quite a laugh, not quite a growl. Satisfaction burned behind her eyes, dark and unmistakable.

“There it is.“ she murmured.

She released one of your wrists just long enough to grab your chin, fingers firm, forcing your face up. Her thumb brushed your lower lip before pressing in just enough to make your mouth part.

“You don’t beg easily..do you?” Natasha said quietly.

Her lips crashed into yours. She kissed you like she was claiming ground, like she’d decided something and your opinion was no longer required. Her hand slid back to trap your wrists again, pinning them hard as her mouth worked yours open.

You moaned into her, couldn’t stop it, and she swallowed the sound like it belonged to her. She pulled back just enough to speak. “Look at you.“ she whispered. “All that confidence..Gone the second you realized you wanted this more than control.”

Her knee pressed harder between your thighs, deliberate pressure that made your breath hitch again. She felt it, of course she did and smirked. “You planned to lead me here..“ Natasha continued, “Thought you’d play the game..”

She leaned in again, teeth grazing your lower lip this time. “You forgot one thing, Kotenok.”

You were shaking now, not from fear, but from the way she had you pinned, exposed, unraveling.

“I invented it.”

Her hand slid down your body slow, claiming territory, nails dragging just enough to make you gasp. She didn’t touch where you needed her most. Not yet..She wanted you desperate.

“From now on.“ Natasha murmured against your ear, “you follow my pace. You speak when I tell you to. And when I touch you..” her fingers finally brushed lower, teasing, devastating “..you don’t move unless I say.”

She pulled back slightly, eyes locking onto yours. She was waiting, not for resistance, but for surrender, and the control snapped.

Natasha kissed you again, harder this time, and suddenly your feet left the floor. You gasped into her mouth as she lifted you with effortless strength, your back arching instinctively as her body pressed you closer. There was no question of where this was going. She carried you like it was inevitable.

The bed caught you both in a soft, breathless fall, her weight above you, mouth never leaving yours. Her hand slid into your hair, fingers tightening just enough to tilt your head, deepen the kiss, steal every sound you made like it belonged to her.

Then she broke it. You barely had time to chase her lips before she pulled back, kneeling over you, eyes dark and burning as she took you in, spread beneath her, flushed, breathing hard, undone already.

Natasha straightened slowly, never breaking eye contact. Her fingers hooked under the hem of her shirt, lifting it inch by inch, muscles shifting under golden-red light. She didn’t rush, she wanted you watching. Wanted you seeing exactly what was about to ruin you.

Your throat bobbed.

“That look.“ she murmured, voice low and satisfied. “You’re already gone.”

She dropped the shirt aside and leaned back over you, capturing your mouth again, but softer now. Her hands traced your sides, thumbs brushing under fabric, mapping you with deliberate precision.

She peeled layers away bit by bit, lips following, kisses pressed along your jaw, your throat, lower, never lingering too long in one place. Lingerie slipped beneath her fingers, grazing skin, teasing and promising.

You were shaking beneath her by the time her hand finally slid lower, and when she touched you there , you gasped sharply, hips lifting without permission.

Natasha froze, then smirked. “Mm..” she hummed, amused, pleased. “I thought so.”

Her thumb pressed just enough to make you gasp again, and she leaned down, lips brushing your ear.

“Completely mine right now..” she whispered. “Every breath..every sound.”

She kissed you again deep, one hand still holding you exactly where she wanted you, the other pinning you back into the mattress as if to remind you there was no escaping this.

Your body was already burning, hips twitching under her touch, lips parted with soft gasps but Natasha wasn’t gentle anymore. She’d tasted surrender, and now she was going to feast on it.

“Look at you..” she said lowly, her voice silk stretched over steel. “All spread out…such a pretty mess.”

Your back arched, but she didn’t give you what you wanted. Her fingers brushed lightly, just enough to tease, over the inside of your thighs, up your waist, over the fabric still clinging to your chest. She watched your every reaction, like she was studying the cause and effect of your need.

“Eyes on me.”

The command cut through you like lightning, and you obeyed instantly.

Her smirk deepened. “Good girl.”

You whimpered. “That easy, hm?” Natasha leaned down, lips barely brushing yours. “I could do anything I wanted to you right now.”

She bit your bottom lip, just enough to sting, then let go.

“And you’d take it.”

Your breath hitched. You knew she was right. Thinking was impossible. You couldn’t form words, only aching sounds, twitching under her as your body begged for more.

She let go of your wrists just long enough to sit back and drag the rest of your lingerie down your legs in one smooth, predatory motion. Her eyes never left your face.

“You’re shaking..” she whispered, dragging a nail along your inner thigh, watching your legs tremble. “So sensitive…”

You reached for her, instinct, desperation, but she caught your wrists again and pinned them above your head with a growl.

“Did I tell you to move?”

You gasped. “N-no-!”

“No.” she echoed mockingly. “No, you didn’t. So why did you try?”

You opened your mouth but nothing came out, just a strangled, needy breath. Natasha leaned in, voice like a razor wrapped in velvet. “You don’t move. You don’t speak. You take what I give you, and when I say beg…you beg.”

She shifted lower, slow, deliberate, and finally, finally her mouth touched you where you needed it.

You cried out, but Natasha didn’t let you go. She kept your hands caged, held you down as her mouth worked you apart, her tongue ruthless, her rhythm calculated, unrelenting. She moved with the skill of a woman who had destroyed empires, and now she was focused entirely on you.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t escape, not that you ever wanted to. Every time you thought you were close, she pulled back, just a little keeping you right on the edge, body shaking, back arching, lips parted in a silent scream.

“Already that close?” she whispered against your thigh. “Pathetic.”

You just moaned helpless. Natasha’s mouth curved against your skin. She kissed the inside of your knee, your hip, your stomach, everywhere but where you needed it most.

“You’ll come..“ she said darkly. “But not yet.”

She sat up again, one hand still wrapped around your wrists, the other sliding between your thighs with precise, devastating pressure.

“Beg for it.”

You were already crying out, mind blank, words slurring, hips rocking helplessly into her hand. “Please, please, Natasha- God, I-”

She tilted her head slightly. “That’s better.”

Your body was right there..Teetering. Every nerve lit up. Your thighs trembled. Your lips parted with a helpless gasp, but you bit it back. You clenched your teeth, swallowed the sound, tried to keep some part of yourself from crumbling entirely under her.

But Natasha saw it..Felt it. The way your muscles tensed, trying to fight the rise. The flicker of pride. The pathetic attempt at resistance.

“Still fighting me?” she purred.

Her fingers didn’t stop..God, no they moved faster, deeper, crueler. The kind of rhythm that stole your breath, that turned your hips traitor, grinding down without permission. Her palm pressed hard against your center, and your mouth fell open in a ragged moan before you could stop it.

“Don’t pretend you’re strong now.“ Natasha whispered, lips brushing your jaw, her breath hot and sharp. “I own this body.”

You whimpered, shaking your head in denial even as your thighs spread wider, even as your hands clenched the sheets above your head like you were drowning.

She leaned down, her weight pinning you, one thigh between yours, the other hand still working you like she was wringing every last ounce of defiance out of your bones.

“You think I haven’t seen this before?” she growled against your throat. “The brave ones? The cocky ones?”

Her teeth scraped your collarbone, biting down just enough to make your whole body jolt.

“They all beg in the end.”

Your eyes fluttered, breath catching, and you tried..tried to hold on, you gritted your teeth, legs shaking-

“Still trying to prove something?” she whispered, her voice going low and dark and full of that awful, addictive smirk. “You’re mine right now. You just haven’t said it yet.”

And then..She let go of your wrists. Just for a second before you could even move, her hand slid up, wrapped gently mockingly gently around your throat. Your eyes locked with hers, and that’s when it happened.

Your fight cracked. You felt your breath hitch, body arching up into her, your head tipping back into her palm. Your hands traitorous, needy grabbed her hips like she was oxygen and you were suffocating.

“You’re breaking.” she whispered, almost reverently. Her fingers moved harder, faster now. You tried to hold back, you really did but your body was gone. Just need. Just her.

“No more pretending..“ Natasha said, voice low, rough. “Give in.”

You choked on a sound. A moan, a plea. She pressed her forehead to yours, eyes locked to yours.

“Say it.”

Your lips trembled. “I- Y-You… I-”

“Say it.”

“I’m yours..!”

Natasha growled deep and guttural and you shattered. Your body bucked beneath her as the orgasm crashed through you violent, consuming. She pushed you through it, through the aftershocks, through the collapse. She watched every second of it.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until she kissed the corner of your eye, just once before letting your body slump against the sheets.

Legs trembling, chest heaving, fingers barely able to curl into the sheets. You were limp undone, your eyes half-lidded, lips parted in the aftermath of breaking completely under her.

But Natasha wasn’t done..Not even close.

You felt it before you registered it, her hand still between your thighs, still moving, slow and deep, like your orgasm hadn’t happened at all.

“W-Wait-” you gasped, voice barely there.

She didn’t. Her fingers curled inside you again, deliberately, pressing that same aching spot, and your hips jumped violently. It was too much. Your thighs twitched, trying to close, but Natasha shifted, forcing them apart with her knee, spreading you wider.

You whimpered. “I-I can’t-”

“Yes, you can.” she said flatly. “You will.”

She leaned in, lips brushing your cheek, and whispered, “You don’t get to come once and act like it’s over.”

Your entire body was on fire. Every touch was too much, too sharp, too electric, but she kept going, unrelenting, fingers working inside you with mechanical precision. You were soaked, overstimulated, everything twitching from sensitivity but your body was already climbing again, helplessly.

“That’s it..” Natasha murmured. “I want every last piece of that cocky little attitude fucked out of you.”

Her free hand slid down your stomach, pressed against your pelvis to hold you down when your hips started bucking again, trying to escape the overwhelming sensation. But she was stronger. She always was.

You were sobbing now, breathless cries of pleasure and panic all at once. Your second orgasm was rising so fast it felt like drowning.

“You’re gonna come again..” she breathed against your ear, licking the shell of it just to make you jolt. “And then again. Until all you know is how to shake under my hands.”

Your back arched, legs shaking, every sound you made was raw and high and needy.

And Natasha loved it. “Come for me again..” she growled. “Louder this time.”

You screamed. Your second orgasm hit harder full body, mind-numbing, soul-emptying. You clutched at her arms, at her back, at anything.

You didn’t realize when it all stopped. You just noticed that the room was quieter now. That your body had stopped convulsing, stopped trembling. That the only thing you could feel was the pounding of your heart and the warmth of her still above you, hovering and watching.

Your body felt heavy. Every inch of you throbbed. You couldn’t even open your eyes.

Her weight settled beside you on the bed, then half over you, her hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head. The other skimmed along your stomach, no longer teasing, no longer demanding. Just..there.

You flinched when she touched you, but she didn’t pull back. “Shhh…” she whispered, voice low and soft now, softer than it had any right to be after everything she just did to you. “I’ve got you.”

You felt her lips press to your temple, your cheek, your jaw. Every kiss was careful. Her breath warmed your skin, soothing the places she’d marked, worshipping where she’d destroyed.

“You’re okay.“ Natasha murmured. “You did so good.”

A small sound escaped you, more breath than voice. She shifted closer at the sound, her thigh sliding between yours, but only to hold you, not to take.

“You with me?”

You nodded weakly, and she hummed.

“You were perfect..” she whispered. “So fucking perfect.”

Her hand rubbed slow, gentle circles into your back. Her other arm wrapped fully around your waist, tugging you into her chest like a protective shield.

And you felt safe.

She pulled the blankets over both of you, arms still wrapped around you tight, and you melted into her chest like you’d finally come home.

-

-

-

-

[playfetchbabe]

— TERRIFIED ᥫ᭡.

pairing: jennifer check x fem!reader

wc: 2.2k

cw: explicit content. mentions of death, blood, slight degradation, choking, fingering, nipple play.

an: thank u to my lovely moot who sent me a request which sparked some inspo!! this is different from the original… but i hope you enjoy it. literally half asleep rn

“god, it’s so hot jen. you really think drinking is gonna help?” you groaned, sitting down next to jennifer on one of the barstools.

jennifer rolled her eyes, nudging your knee with hers. “i’ll just get you ice water then. princess treatment. that good enough for you?”

“yeah… and i’m tired. and all sweaty.” you stretched your shoulders, letting out a soft wince. “we’ve been out all day. can we just—”

she cut you off with a quick kiss, like she was plugging your mouth shut.

“fifteen minutes,” she said against your lips. “tops. then i’m stealing you back to the cabin and you can pass out on my boobs or whatever.”

you laughed, pushing her shoulder, and then the strap of your tank top fell for what seemed like 50th time today.

jennifer’s eyes immediately darkened. she reached out and fixed it for you, her fingers skimming your skin a little too slowly.

she flags down the bartender and orders you water, herself a drink. her hand settles on your thigh like she owns it… which, honestly, she kinda thinks she does.

“i’m gonna go pee before we drink. stay here. i’ll be right back.” she says, kissing you on the cheek.

“i’m not a toddler.”

“you’re my girlfriend. that’s worse. don’t go anywhere.” jennifer smiles, squeezing your hand one last time before walking into the bathroom.

she’s barely gone for 10 seconds before the guy next to you leans over, you mentally roll your eyes, your jaw clenching.

“rough day?” he asks, doing that sleazy half-smile like he can smell vulnerability. your nostrils flare up as you smell the booze reeking from his body.

“uhm—“ you open your mouth to respond but he cuts you off.

“well, lucky you ran into me then.” he slides a napkin toward you, his number scribbled in messy ink. “if you need some… distraction.”

you freeze, eyes darting toward the hallway jennifer disappeared down. you’re shocked at the audacity of this guy, not even sure how to respond.

“i—”

“she’s not interested.” jennifer’s voice cuts in, sharp like a knife.

you jump and she’s right behind you, staring the guy down with a forced smile.

the guy raises his eyebrows. “didn’t see you there.”

“yeah,” she purrs, taking the napkin out of your hand. “you won’t see much of anything if you keep looking at my girlfriend like that.”

“hey, chill,” he mutters, holding up his hands.

“i am so chill.” she flashes him a smile before lacing her fingers with yours. “we’re leaving. come on, babe.”

“you didn’t have to do that, i had it under control.” you reassured jennifer as the both of you walked out of the bar.

she crumples the napkin in her fist… but you don’t notice her slipping it into her back pocket instead of letting it fall into the trash can by the door.

“you good?” she murmurs, thumb rubbing circles on your hip as you walk.

“yeah,” you sigh, leaning into her. “m’ just exhausted.”

jennifer hums, but she’s not really listening to your exhaustion, she’s replaying that assholes face in her head, jaw tight, eyes glinting.

“babe,” you say softly. “you’re doing the jaw thing.”

“what jaw thing?”

“the ‘i’m imagining someone’s obituary’ thing.”

she huffs a laugh, but it’s a frustrated one. “i just don’t like when dudes act like you’re… available. like i’m not literally right there.”

“i wasn’t gonna take his number,” you mumble.

“i know.” jennifer replies fast. too fast.

“doesn’t mean I didn’t wanna toss him through a wall.”

“jennifer,” you groan, bumping her shoulder. “you are so dramatic.”

“you love it.”

“maybe.”

“definitely.”

you roll your eyes but your cheeks are warm. she notices. she always notices.

by the time you reach the cabin steps, jennifer steps in front of you, hands on your waist, forcing you to look at her.

“just so we’re clear,” she says, voice low and slow, “you’re mine. right?”

you blink at her. “duh. obviously.”

she smiles widely and kisses you again, longer this time, like she’s branding the yes into your mouth. “kay, just making sure.”

the front door shuts behind you with a soft thud, and everything suddenly feels quieter. finally. you were unbelievably tired.

you kick off your shoes, ready to flop into bed, but jennifer grabs your wrist gently.

“hold up. come here.”

you let her pull you into her, her arms sliding around your waist from behind as she nuzzles your neck.

“he really got under your skin, huh?” you joke, leaning into her touch.

“nah.” she lies through her teeth and presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“i just don’t like when people think they can take what’s mine.”

you feel her smile against your skin, but there’s something else beneath it, something you can’t place.

she turns you around to face her.

“did he touch you?” jennifer asks suddenly.

“what? no.” you respond, confused.

“did he try?”

“no, babe. he literally just slid a napkin.”

her eyes narrow, like the napkin alone was enough to warrant a death sentence.

“still disrespectful,” she mutters.

you hug her and mumble against her neck. “it’s over. i’m here. with you. can we please just go to sleep? i’m so fucking tired.”

she hesitates for half a second, where she looks like she wants to say something else.

but instead she smiles sweetly and kisses your forehead. “yeah. get in bed. i’ll lock up.”

“m’ kay. don’t take long.”

“i won’t.” she doesn’t even check the locks at first. she reaches into her back pocket and pulls out the napkin the guy gave you.

she smooths it out on the kitchen counter, ink smudged a little from her palm sweating earlier.

she grabs her phone and opens a new text thread and types in his number.

hey… it’s me. from the bar.

she waits. counts the seconds. please take the bait.

he responds faster than she expects.

oh damn. didn’t think you’d actually text.

she rolls her eyes and pushes her hair behind her ear. this was actually painful for her.

i couldn’t earlier. wasn’t a good time.

she looks up and behind her shoulder, paranoid you were still awake and looking at her phone.

she leans her hip against the counter, thumbs moving quick.

but i can talk now.

his text shoots in faster than she sent the first one.

ur girlfriend asleep? ;)

jennifer’s expression drops into pure disgust. her hand grips her phone tighter.

“oh, you’re done,” she mumbles.

yeah… she knocked out. long day lol

you tryna meet up? got a spot behind the bar nobody goes to.

she doesn’t answer right away. she finally walks over to the front door, flicks the lock loudly. so that if you’re awake, it sounds like she’s actually doing what she said.

“god, men are so easy.” she whispers to herself.

maybe. send the pin.

his response comes with a location drop.

a trail entrance in the woods behind the bar. perfect.

jennifer lets out a sigh of relief, smiling to herself.

give me like 20. don’t move.

she places her phone in her pocket and finally checks all the locks, methodically, like she’s preparing the cabin for you to sleep safely.

jennifer pushes the bedroom door open slowly, only to find you out cold.

she leans against the doorframe for a second, just watching you, like she’s trying to memorize the softness before she goes out and ruins some guy’s entire life.

she tucks the blanket up to your shoulders and kisses your forehead. “sleep, babe. i’ll handle it.”

oh, and she does.

her phone buzzes in her pocket. a new message.

im here btw. it’s dark as hell out lol

i’m heading over. don’t chicken out :)

she puts her phone away and locks the door behind her, making her way down the dirt path to his location.

the trail behind the bar is barely lit, just the sign’s glow bleeding through the trees in the distance.

she sees him before he sees her.

he’s pacing near the clearing, phone in his hand, checking the time. he looks nervous, eager, and completely oblivious.

jennifer steps forward just enough for a twig to snap.

he turns, eyes lighting up, expecting to see you.

“hey! thought you weren’t—”

he freezes mid-sentence when he realizes it’s not you.

jennifer’s smile spreads slowly and lethally.

“you’re early,” she says softly. “how sweet. such a gentleman.”

his brows furrow. “uh… where’s—”

“did you really think she’d meet you out here alone?” jennifer asks.

it’s silent for a few seconds, he’s looking around and shifting his weight on each foot “so… she’s not coming?”

god, how much more idiotic could this guy get?

“oh, don’t worry,” she smiles. “i’m here instead. and i’m so hungry.”

the cabin door creaks open slowly. jennifer slips inside, closing it softly.

you jolt awake instantly. your heart racing.

“jen?” you call out, voice rough with sleep.

“hey, baby,” she answers softly.

you blink toward the doorway and your heart drops right out of your chest.

jennifer is standing there, illuminated by the faint lamp light, covered in blood.

not soaked like in a movie… but spattered, on her jawline, drips on her collarbone and her hands are stained.

your breath catches in your throat.

“what the fuck?? what happened?! oh my god! are you hurt??”

she steps toward you slowly, hands raised like she doesn’t want to scare you. “no. it’s not mine.”

your stomach flips violently and your knees nearly buckle. “what are you saying…”

she reaches you and cups your face with her cold, stained hands, and you gasp at the blood smearing on your face.

“he won’t ever touch you. or look at you. or breathe near you again.”

heat flickers low in your stomach at the sound of her voice, at the fact that she did this for you. over you.

you swallow hard, attempting to take a step back. “jennifer… jesus christ… this is insane.”

“i know,” she whispers, brushing your bottom lip with her thumb, staining it red.

“but i’d do anything for you. you know that, right, babe?”

you should shove her away. you should scream for help. you should call someone.

but you’re breathing fast, staring at her mouth. your body filled with arousal and anxiety.

“you’re… you’re scaring me,” you whisper.

she smiles, tilting her head, “and you like it.”

jennifer pulls you closer, her blood-stained fingers tangling in your hair as she crashes her lips against yours in a fierce, hungry kiss.

you gasp into her mouth, tasting the coppery fresh blood mingling with her saliva. you hate the way you’re so turned on right now.

she walks you backwards until your legs hit the foot of the bed, the cabin’s floor creaking softly around you the both of you.

her lips kiss down your neck, smearing the blood down the column of your throat as she does so.

jennifer yanks your shirt up and off, tossing it carelessly to the floor, revealing your flimsy bra. her hands work at the clasp of your bra, your tits springing out, the cool air makes you shiver.

"you're mine," she murmurs, before taking a nipple into her mouth and sucking, her eyelashes flutter up at you.

her other hand slides down your stomach, her fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your panties to stroke through the slick folds of your pussy. you whine and grind up against her touch, desperate for more.

"there's your proof," she breathes, pulling back from your tit with a wet pop, just enough to meet your gaze. "you want this. you want me, no matter what i do, what i am. isn’t that right?”

you nod your head eagerly, squirming against the sheets.

her fingers sink deep inside you, pumping in and out, smiling as you whimper and writhe under her.

your fingers claw red lines down her back through the fabric of her shirt as you cling to her.

jennifer's fingers pump into you faster, the lewd sound of your soaked cunt filling the room as she finger-fucks you with single-minded focus. her thumb nudges your clit, circling the swollen bundle of nerves in tight, rough strokes that send electric shocks of heat shooting up your spine.

"oh my fucking god, jen," you gasp, voice ragged and high-pitched.

her hand grips your throat, not tightly enough to cut off your air, but with enough pressure that she feels the hammering pulse that betrays your excitement.

her other hand continues its ruthless assault on your dripping cunt, three fingers plunging in and out, curling just so to hit that spongey spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids.

"do you feel that, baby?" she pants. "do you feel how fucking wet you are? how much your body wants this, wants me?"

“you’re just as fucked up as me. maybe even more.” jennifer breathes out and you moan.

jennifer feels your body tensing, your walls clamping down around her plunging fingers as your climax builds up in your core. she knows you're close. “you gonna cum for me, baby?”

“yes— m’ gonna cum.” you manage to babble out, rocking up against her hand.

your orgasm crashes through you suddenly, sweeping away all thoughts of the guy, of the blood, of anything but the pleasure that consumes you.

she helps you ride out your orgasm, whispering soft praises against your mouth.

she eases her fingers out of your cunt, letting out her own moan as she sees the slick of your arousal and the stranger's blood coating her fingers. your stomach flips for the 20th time tonight.

[cinematicclit-deactivated202602]

➵ CAN'T TELL ANYONE, BABY : n.romanoff

You don’t even get a hello.

The passenger door slams shut and she’s already leaning over the console, one hand sliding behind your neck, the other squeezing your thigh so hard you gasp. She smells like cold air and leather, expensive perfume clinging to her skin, and you flinch when her mouth brushes your ear.

“Get in the back,” Natasha murmurs. Her voice is quiet but full of promise. “Now.”

You don’t question it. You never do. Not with her. Not since the first time she touched you in the laundry room while your dad was asleep upstairs. Not since she said those four little words in that same exact tone — can’t tell anyone, baby.

The backseat is dark and cold, tinted windows hiding you from the street. Her car’s parked behind the football field, just far enough from campus that no one will look twice, but you’re still terrified someone could walk past. You sit there, breath shaking, thighs pressed together, backpack discarded on the floor.

Then she gets in after you.

Natasha climbs over the center console with all the grace of a predator. She’s still in her suit from work, black button-up shirt undone at the collar, her red hair pulled back. You don’t dare meet her eyes. She reaches for you and you freeze.

Her fingers grip your chin and lift your gaze to hers.

“You’re gonna be good for me, right?” she asks softly. Her thumb strokes over your lip. “No crying. No running. You came when I told you, so that means you knew what you needed.”

Your throat’s dry. You nod. She smiles, slow and dark.

“Take your panties off.”

You obey with trembling hands, tugging them down under your skirt, past your knees, kicking them off onto the floor. You feel exposed, naked, even though you’re still technically dressed. Your heart’s beating too fast. Your legs threaten to close but Natasha slides between them, forcing them apart.

Her hand wraps around your throat.

She doesn’t squeeze right away. Just holds you there, a light pressure under your jaw, fingers firm against your skin, thumb brushing your pulse. Her cock presses hard against your inner thigh, straining in her tailored slacks. She watches your face as she reaches down, tugging her zipper open with her free hand.

You feel it before you see it. The heat. The weight. Then it’s out. Thick and flushed and already leaking. Your lips part in a silent breath when she strokes it once, slow, letting her precum smear over her palm.

“You still tight, sweetheart?” Natasha purrs. “Still untouched for anyone but me?”

You nod again, cheeks burning. Your thighs twitch as she drags the head of her cock through your slick folds, not pushing in yet, just teasing, smearing wetness across your cunt.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” she growls. “All that from a little touch? Or was it just me picking you up after class?”

She slaps the head of her cock against your clit, making you flinch. Then she

slaps the head of her cock against your clit, making you flinch. Then she does it again, slower this time, watching the way your body jerks with each tap.

"Sensitive," she mutters, mostly to herself. Her hand squeezes your throat just a little harder. "Look at you. Squirming. Dripping. And we haven’t even started."

Your breath stutters, eyes wide. She doesn’t give you time to respond. One sharp thrust and she pushes just the tip inside, stretching you open around the thick crown of her cock. The pressure burns. Your hands scramble for something to hold onto, nails digging into the seat, legs trembling as she sinks in another inch.

"Too much?" she asks, breath warm against your cheek. She’s smiling, cruel and indulgent. "That’s not a real question, baby. You know I don’t stop."

She fucks the rest in with one hard stroke. Your cry dies in your throat, strangled by her grip. You feel impossibly full, stretched around her cock until tears sting your eyes. She doesn't move right away, just holds you there, throbbing inside you while your body tries to catch up.

"That’s it," she murmurs. "Take it. Like the good little girl you are."

Her hips draw back slow, then slam forward again. You jolt. She fucks into you with steady, brutal rhythm, one hand choking you just enough to keep you dizzy, the other gripping your thigh to keep you open. The sound of her cock pounding into your soaked cunt fills the car, slick and obscene. Every thrust punches a gasp from your lungs. Every time she buries herself to the hilt, you swear it’s deeper than before.

You can’t stop the sounds you're making — whimpers, hiccupping sobs, a strangled plea that she ignores completely.

"You feel that?" she growls, breath hot against your skin. "That’s me, fucking everything else out of you. Every little crush. Every stupid thought. No one else gets to touch you like this."

Her cock slams up into a spot that makes your vision white out. You choke on a sob, cunt clenching tight around her. You’re so close, you can’t breathe, and still she doesn't slow down.

"You gonna cum for me?" Natasha hisses, voice low, sharp against your throat. "Gonna soak my cock like the filthy little thing you are?"

You nod, or try to, the movement barely there with her hand still around your neck. Your body’s trembling, thighs shaking, breath a mess. She fucks you harder now, rough thrusts that rock the whole car, each one hitting that devastating spot inside you. It feels overwhelming — her pace, her cock, the grip around your throat, the way she’s staring straight into your eyes like she owns you.

She does. Right now, she does.

“You know you weren’t supposed to let me fuck you here,” she mutters, gritting it through her teeth as your cunt squeezes around her. “Not in my car. Not in the parking lot. Not while you’re still wearing that little fucking skirt.”

Your walls flutter and she feels it. She grins, sharp and satisfied.

“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you? You like being used right after class. Like it when I drag you into the backseat and fuck your cunt raw before anyone notices you’re gone.”

You moan. Loud. You can’t help it. The tension coils hard in your belly, unbearable now. You’re so close it hurts.

She leans in, mouth by your ear.

“You cum without permission and I’ll leave you full and aching, dripping into your panties all day. Say it. Ask for it.”

You choke on the words, breathless and fucked-out. “Please. Please let me cum. I need it. Please—”

Natasha growls, deep and primal. She fucks you through it, not slowing, just letting it break you open.

“Then cum for me, baby,” she snarls. “Cum on my cock. Right now.”

You fall apart with a sob, body arching, legs clenching tight around her waist as your orgasm tears through you. You gush around her, soaking her cock, crying her name against her shoulder. Your cunt pulses over and over, pulling at her, desperate and greedy.

Natasha doesn’t stop.

Her rhythm turns brutal, chasing her own high now. Her grip on your throat tightens just as her hips slam forward, cock buried to the base. She shudders. Groans. Then you feel it — the heat, the rush, her cum spilling deep inside you, thick and endless.

She stays there, cock still throbbing, one hand on your neck, the other sliding to your thigh. Holding you there. Possessive.

You’re a mess. Sweaty. Shaking. Full.

Natasha finally breathes out against your mouth.

“You don’t tell anyone about this,” she whispers. “You don’t even think about it.”

She leans in and kisses you slow, filthy, tongue licking into your mouth like she didn’t just ruin you in the backseat of her car.

Then, without a word, she fixes your skirt, tucks your panties into her pocket, and whispers:

“Keep it in. I want you leaking when I pick you up tomorrow.”

[seduzist]

sugar mommy! tasha x fem! reader.

cw. implied age gap, objectification, degradation, somno (dubcon), dumbification, overstimulation, sub/dom dynamics, kinda dark! natasha, minors dni.

sugar mommy! natasha who wakes up w/ a call from work and gets so frustrated w/ her coworker that as soon as she ends the call she goes to eat you out to relieve her stress, doesn’t matter if you’re sleeping, all that matters it’s that your body is hers to use whatever she feels like it. when you wake up all confused about what’s happening down there she’ll just say “it’s okay baby, mommy just needs to use you a little okay? be good and maybe i can buy you that pretty necklace you wanted afterwards, hm?”

sugar mommy! natasha who will carefully choose your outfit for every event she’s taking you to show you off like her trophy, the type that says “just look pretty and don’t talk much” cause she thinks you’re such a bimbo who doesn’t even know how to interact with such wealthy and intellectual people, and you do just like she says and keep quiet while she talks to her friends of how’s the business going.

sugar mommy! natasha who watches you touch yourself for her, she likes to tell you exactly what to do and when you stop or go faster and harder, she likes to appreciate how much control she has over you and how you obediently do whatever she tells you even if it means you’re not coming after edges yourself for hours just for her to see and call you a good girl - maybe she even buys you a new channel set if you’re good.

sugar mommy! natasha who loves to degrade and say mean things to you; “you’re such a whore, i can see the way you look at the shining things, you want all of it, don’t you? you want expensive clothes and jewelry, you want a life you couldn’t have and you would open your legs and slut yourself out for anybody who’s willing to buy you that in exchange to play with this little body, hm? you think that’s very smart honey, but you’re such a dumb bimbo who would have a very miserable life if wasn’t for this perfect tits and pussy.”

sugar mommy! natasha who’s always objectifying you, if you’re sitting on her lap while talking she’s groping your body, if you try to get romantic with her she’ll laugh and just tell you to undress, if you’re in her house or on vacation with her you’re not allowed to wear panties for easy access and if you in any moment try to tell her that you’re not just a piece of meat you’ll hear a loud laugh and will be punished for that.

[summer2224]

Interrogation Technique #69

Wanda Maximoff (G!P Magic induced) x Fem Reader (Dark Wanda)

by summer2224

18+ Smut

Content: Smut 18+

SHIELD sends you to infiltrate a Hydra cell in Berlin. But the intel wasn’t the mission, Wanda Maximoff was. Now you're chained in a secret facility, Wanda interrogating you with her mouth, her magic, and the brutal edge of power she wields like a weapon.

You swore you'd never break.

You didn’t expect to beg.

Written July 12-14th, 2024

Enemies to Lovers | Power Play | Dark Wanda | Degradation | Magic-induced pleasure

---------------------------------------------

Your wrists are bound.

Thick leather straps bite into your skin, arms pinned behind the steel chair bolted to the floor. Your lip is split. Blood, yours, trickles down your chin, thick and metallic. You can taste it when you breathe through your mouth.

The room smells like rust and ozone.

The lights flicker overhead, one buzzing faintly with every surge of magic lingering in the walls. Sigils burn low and red along the perimeter, glowing faintly like dying embers. You recognize the language, they're in Sokovian. Not for protection.

Control.

She's close.

You keep your posture straight, even if your back aches from the blow that dropped you earlier. You don't know how long you've been in this place. Hours? Days? SHIELD protocol demands silence. No matter what she does, you don't break. But the truth is: she hasn't even touched you. Not yet.

Because she doesn't need to.

The door hisses open.

She walks in without fanfare, without armor. No red leather. No crown. Just Wanda Maximoff in a black shirt, sleeves rolled to her elbows, hands bare.

And that's somehow worse.

You watch her circle the room like a lioness in slow motion. She doesn't look at you at first. Just drags a finger across the dusty table in the corner, brushes nonexistent dirt from her cuff.

Her voice cuts the silence. "I thought they'd send someone... bigger."

You smile with bloody teeth. "Disappointed?"

Wanda finally turns her gaze on you.

It's a punch to the gut. Her eyes are unreadable, green, gold, red, all at once, and she tilts her head just slightly as if reading you. The way a surgeon sizes up the patient before making the first cut.

"No," she says. "You're exactly who I wanted."

You lean back in your restraints, feigning comfort. "Funny. I didn't know I was so popular with terrorists."

Her jaw twitches. Just a flicker. Then she walks toward you, slow and controlled. Her boots echo on the concrete floor like a metronome winding down.

"You think I'm a terrorist," she repeats softly.

"You kidnapped an entire town."

"I freed them. Eventually."

"You killed people."

"And you've never pulled a trigger in your life?"

You glare. Her smile deepens, not warm. Not even cruel. Just fascinated.

"They told me you were smart. They didn't say you were pretty."

She stops in front of you. The heat radiating from her body coils around your skin. Her power hums just beneath the surface.

"I read your file," she murmurs. "Y/n L/n. SHIELD infiltration specialist. No psychic sensitivity. Resistant to telepathic suggestion. Advanced interrogation resistance training."

You smirk. "Enjoy the reading material?"

"I always enjoy learning how to break things."

Her fingers brush your jaw.

You flinch, but don't look away.

"Tell me what SHIELD wants from me," she says.

"Why not dig it out of my mind? Isn't that your thing?"

Her thumb wipes a smear of blood from your lip. Then she brings it to her mouth. Licks it clean.

"Where's the fun in that?"

Your thighs clench.

She notices.

Her mouth twitches.

"You're not afraid of me," she says, curious now.

"I know exactly what you are."

She leans in. Her breath hits your neck, warm and slow.

"Then why are you shaking?"

You're not.

Or... maybe you are.

You hate her. You want her dead. You want her closer.

"You're wasting time," you bite out. "You won't break me."

Wanda hums thoughtfully. Her hand slides to your throat, not squeezing. Just holding. Feeling the pulse. The vulnerability. The trust she knows you don't give.

"Maybe not with questions," she says. "Maybe not with pain."

You hold her gaze.

"Then what?"

She leans closer, her lips a breath from yours.

"Maybe I'll just make you beg."

Your heart slams against your ribs.

The lights flicker again.

This isn't about information anymore.

And you don't want it to stop.

She moves like shadow and flame, a slow burn with sharp edges. Her fingers drift from your throat, trailing down to your collarbone, and for a second, you swear, she hesitates. Just long enough for you to feel it.

"What's the matter, Maximoff?" you rasp. "Losing your nerve?"

Her power flares.

Red tendrils lick up your arms, not quite touching your skin but burning close. The restraints tighten with a creaking groan. She steps between your thighs, gaze locked to yours, and her expression has cooled into something dangerous.

"You want pain?"

You bare your teeth. "I want you to pick a side. Monster or martyr."

She laughs once, low and sharp. "Always so black and white with SHIELD."

Her hand glides over your sternum, then lower, slow and intentional.

"Let me show you the gray."

The magic binds your chest, curling like silk ribbon and iron wire all at once. It's not tight enough to suffocate, but it's enough to remind you that you're utterly at her mercy.

You inhale through your nose, exhale slowly. You won't give her the sound she wants. Not yet.

Her lips brush the shell of your ear.

"Tell me, agent..." Her voice is a whisper of heat. "When I finally crawl inside your mind, will you fight me the same way your body does?"

"You'll have to get in first."

Wanda chuckles, and it's dark this time. Not amused. A sound filled with hunger and warning.

"Oh, sweetheart," she murmurs. "I already am."

You twist in your restraints, testing them, not out of panic, but calculation.

Wanda watches every twitch of your muscles like she's memorizing you. Her hand finally settles at your hip, fingers digging in just hard enough to bruise.

You hate how your body responds.

But you don't hide it.

You meet her eyes and say nothing.

She tilts her head. "Still so quiet. That training must be exhausting."

You lean forward the inch your bindings allow. "Try harder."

Something dark flashes in her expression, not anger.

Arousal. Her magic ignites.

And the room begins to burn.

"Let's talk about your last mission," Wanda says, voice rich with mock curiosity as she pulls a chair from the corner and drags it across the floor. She flips it around and straddles it backwards, arms resting over the top, her posture casual in a way that drips with power.

You narrow your eyes. "You already know everything."

"Humor me."

Her fingers flex and suddenly a red wisp tightens the strap across your chest. Not choking, but closer. More intimate. Like a hand curling possessively beneath your ribs.

"You were embedded in Berlin," she begins. "Tracking an asset I happen to value. You made contact with one of my allies. Fed them false intel. Sabotaged a weapons exchange."

You offer a bloodstained grin. "You left your back door wide open. Rookie mistake."

Wanda leans forward. "And now here you are, caught in my cage, mouthing off like you're not minutes away from falling apart."

She reaches out and rests a finger against your knee. Just a single point of touch, but it's enough.

A pulse of magic climbs your thigh, slow, deliberate.

Your breath catches, and you hate that she hears it.

"There it is," she murmurs.

You bare your teeth. "You're going to have to do better than foreplay."

"Oh, I intend to."

The chair scrapes as she rises, her expression unreadable again. Her magic pulls at the restraints around your thighs, spreading them slightly. Just enough.

"You're still in control," she says softly, as if it's a kindness. "I haven't taken anything you haven't already given."

You know she's lying.

And yet your pulse is already racing, breath shallowing with the tension.

"Tell me what SHIELD sent you to find," she says. "And I'll make it good."

You tilt your head. "And if I don't?"

Her smile is razor sharp. "Then I make it better."

She steps forward.

And her hands go to your thighs.

You open your mouth to fire another quip, but Wanda is already moving.

A sickening crack echoes through the chamber as her knuckles collide with your jaw. Not a slap. A punch. It splits the inside of your cheek and rocks your head to the side. Blood drips from your lip to your chin, thick and hot.

You taste iron. You taste her power humming around you like the static before a storm.

The room falls silent.

Her footsteps are slow, methodical. When she grabs a fistful of your hair and wrenches your head back, there's no tenderness, only cold precision.

"You think this is a game?"

You glare at her. Smile with blood streaked teeth. "Looks like you're losing."

Her hand tightens in your hair. The other lifts, glowing red.

A needle-thin thread of energy snakes toward your temple. You feel it trying to push, in, but it doesn't get far. The resistance burns. You scream, just once, involuntarily.

She stops. Withdraws. Smiles.

"Interesting," she says. "You're harder to crack than most."

She leans in, nose nearly touching yours.

"But everything breaks. Eventually."

She conjures a blade of scarlet light, thin and elegant like a scalpel. She presses it just beneath your collarbone, slicing shallowly. You flinch. Blood wells and trails downward.

"Pain is honest," she murmurs. "It doesn't lie like your mouth does."

You pant through clenched teeth. "You're enjoying this."

"No," Wanda says. "I need this."

She drags the blade lower. Not enough to kill, never that, but enough to leave you bleeding, twitching. Open.

Then, she cups your cheek with the same bloodied hand.

"Now," she whispers. "Let's try again. What did SHIELD send you to find?"

You spit blood at her feet.

Wanda wipes it from her boot with a flick of magic, eyes never leaving yours.

"Fine," she says. "We'll start with something simpler."

Chains of red wrap tighter around your wrists, ankles, chest.

"Your pain tolerance."

She steps back, lifts her hand, and the screaming begins anew.

The red magic lashes through your nerves like fire and ice, biting into your skin, your bones, your thoughts. It's not just pain. It's sensation, overwhelming and precise. She calibrates it like a scientist, like a witch, like a lover who knows every threshold you refuse to name.

You shake in the chair, biting down on your tongue hard enough to reopen the wound in your cheek. The blood fills your mouth again. You choke on it. Swallow it. Gasp.

She watches.

"You don't scream like they do," Wanda muses aloud, as if she's observing a specimen under glass. "Most of them break here. Men. Agents. Super soldiers. They cry. They beg. But not you."

She steps forward. Her fingers trail down your arm with false gentleness, her voice like poison in silk.

"Is it pride that keeps you quiet? Or is it something darker?"

You force your eyes open, meet her stare. Your lips curl despite the blood. "You like it when I take it."

She exhales slowly, nostrils flaring. Her nails dig into your thigh.

"Masochist," she whispers.

You grin. "Takes one to know one."

And for the first time, she laughs. Quiet, genuine, cracked around the edges. Then her smile fades.

"You're going to bleed for me," she says. "But you're also going to give me what I want."

She flicks her fingers. The chains around your legs snap tighter. You groan, pain, pressure, heat. You don't beg. You won't.

"Why were you in Berlin? What was your real target?" she demands.

You spit again, slower this time. "I was watching you."

That catches her breath. Just a hitch. She covers it with violence, a blast of magic slamming into your ribs, then spreading into heat, crawling lower.

"Then watch me," Wanda hisses, stepping close.

She rips your shirt open with a flash of power. Her hand presses flat against your bare abdomen, the skin hot where she touches. Her lips are at your ear.

"You want pain? You want to prove how much you can take? Then you're going to take me."

And the interrogation becomes something else entirely.

She leans in, lips grazing the shell of your ear, her voice a silk-wrapped blade. "You break so beautifully."

The chains don't loosen, but shift, pressing you down, forcing your legs wider, your back flush to the cold steel. You don't resist. You can't. You wouldn't.

Her mouth brushes your jaw. "Let me hear the truth now. Not for SHIELD. Not for your cause. For me."

Her hand trails lower, between your thighs, knuckles grazing the sensitive heat she's been drawing out of you with every calculated word, every electric moment of pain.

"You're soaked," she murmurs, her tone colder now, like disappointment wrapped in silk. "And you're still pretending this is about loyalty."

You choke on breath. You want to curse her. You want to beg.

You do neither.

"Say it," she commands.

You shake your head.

Her fingers tighten around your throat just slightly, just enough to remind you.

"Say who you belong to."

You bare your teeth, defiant.

She smiles. Not kindly.

"Then I'll carve the answer into you."

And when her fingers slip inside your waistband and inside you, it's not tender. It's a claim.

Every movement is control. Every breath she lets you take is permission.

And she doesn't let you look away.

"Keep your eyes on me," she says, low. "You want to take me? Prove it. Show me how good you suffer."

You do.

And for the first time, you wonder if surrendering might feel like victory.

But you don't give her silence.

You laugh.

It's sharp, cracked, ugly, and it makes her pause.

"You think this proves something?" you rasp, voice raw. "You think your little throne of red light makes you a god? You're just a girl who couldn't control her grief, and now you're playing warlord because you're too afraid to be alone."

The change in her is instant.

Her hand snaps to your throat again, this time harder, pressing you back into the chair with brutal force. Not enough to cut air, yet. Just enough to remind you who owns the space between breaths.

"You don't get to talk to me like that."

You choke out another bloody grin. "Then make me stop."

She leans down until her forehead presses to yours, eyes glowing like twin furnaces.

"You think SHIELD will come for you? That anyone is coming? I've buried better agents than you beneath the bones of empires. I unmade gods for less."

She punctuates the word with a thrust of her fingers inside you, rough, deep. Your body jolts, but your smirk doesn't falter.

"Still just a scared little girl under all that power," you whisper.

She groans.

The magic flares so violently that the lights above burst, glass raining down behind her in slow motion.

"I am everything you fear in the dark," she breathes, slamming her hips forward, pressing into you with her whole body now, her voice a growl in your ear. "And the only reason you're still alive is because I like the way you sound when you break."

You gasp, shuddering, your voice shaking now. Not from fear.

"Then break me properly."

She does.

With a flick of her fingers, the physical restraints snap open, metal clattering to the ground like discarded rules. But you're not free.

Scarlet bands of power seize your limbs before you can even move. Your body is yanked upright, suspended for a heartbeat, before she slams you face-first into the cold concrete floor.

Pain blossoms across your cheekbone and shoulder. The breath leaves your lungs in a single stunned exhale.

You barely register the sound of her boots pacing behind you, slow and deliberate.

"On your knees for me now," Wanda murmurs. "You want to fight? Then crawl."

You try to push up, only for the magic to shove you back down. Her power pins you by the neck, spine arched, hips raised. Your dignity shatters one inch at a time, and she watches.

Her voice turns cruel. "You look better like this. Not so smug now, are you? A trained little agent without her leash."

Your pants vanish with a hiss of heat and red. The cold air hits you, and her hand follows, dragging across your bare skin like a brand.

"So wet," she sneers, voice thick with power-laced venom. 

You groan, humiliated, furious, turned on in ways you refuse to name.

She crouches behind you, one hand pressed hard between your shoulder blades, the other trailing fire between your legs.

"Now tell me," she groans, mouth hot at your ear. "What was the objective in Berlin? What did SHIELD want from me?"

You grit your teeth. "Go to hell."

Her fingers thrust deep without warning.

You scream.

She moans.

"That's more like it," she purrs. "You'll scream all my answers eventually. And if not, I'll just fuck them out of you."

She begins to move, slow and devastating, every thrust forcing your knees to scrape against the floor, her power keeping you exactly where she wants you.

"Say it," she demands. "Say who you belong to."

You hiss. You curse. You don't say it.

Her magic tightens again.

"Louder, agent," she snarls, her voice low and vibrating with cruel hunger. "I want the world to hear the moan you choke down. Let them know exactly what happens when they send one of their best to kneel before a goddess."

You bite down a sob, but what escapes is worse. A moan. Raw, guttural, defiant.

It cracks the silence open like glass.

Wanda stills.

Then she laughs, low, slow, cruel. The sound crawls down your spine like cold fire.

"You moan for me like that and still pretend you have control?" Her fingers twist in your hair, yanking your head back until your neck strains. "Pathetic. You think this is strength? It's submission in disguise."

Her grip tightens. Her magic burns hotter.

"SHIELD trained your body to endure," she hisses against your ear, voice thick with venom and desire, "but they forgot your mind. They forgot what happens when you beg without words."

Her fingers slam into you again, sharp, punishing.

"No one is coming for you. Not SHIELD. Not your handlers. You are mine now. You're ruined for anything but this."

She releases your hair just to shove your face down into the cold floor, your cheek scraping stone.

"I want you to remember this position. Every time you try to be brave, every time you pretend you're not aching for me to take you apart again."

Still, you don't give her the answer.

Then she stills.

You hear her breath, slow, deliberate, as her hands leave you, and the warmth of her body steps away. Your heart pounds, chest heaving. You almost speak, but then....

Cloth rustles behind you.

You dare to look.

Wanda strips with a terrifying calm, peeling her black shirt up over her head like she's shedding a skin. Her body is all sharp lines and soft curves and power humming beneath her skin like a second pulse. She steps out of her pants, slow, deliberate. Not for show. For dominance.

And when she kneels behind you again, bare and burning with magic, she doesn't touch you at first.

She presses her chest to your back, her skin scorching against your spine, her breath hot against your ear.

"Masochist," she purrs, voice like venom-laced silk. "That's what you are. You like being used. Hurt. Fucked raw until your name doesn't matter anymore."

You shudder.

She grinds her hips into you, slick and bare and hard with want, magic still wrapped around your wrists, your thighs, your throat.

"Say it," she whispers. "Say yes to me. Say who you want."

Your mouth moves before your mind can stop it.

"Yes," you moan. "Yes, Wanda."

She groans into your ear, voice guttural.

"Good," she growls. "So am I."

And then she takes you. Not with fingers this time.

You feel it when the magic surges, low and bright and crackling, reshaping her body into something not quite human, not quite divine, but built to ruin you. You cry out as the thick head of something new presses against you, slick and pulsing with red-hot energy. Her hands brace your hips. Her mouth hovers at your ear.

"Do you feel that? That's mine. All of it. Made for you."

You gasp as she pushes in, inch by devastating inch, her breath ragged now, low groans vibrating straight into your spine. Your nails claw at the floor, scraping across stone. Your mouth falls open. No sound. Just raw, wordless pleasure twisted with submission.

She bottoms out and doesn't move.

Her hand slides up your back, curls around your throat. Holds you there.

"Give me the truth," she hisses. "Tell me what SHIELD was after. Tell me who you serve."

You moan instead, neck straining, back arching, walls clenching helplessly around the thick magic she's buried deep inside you.

She thrusts once. Hard. Deliberate. Cruel.

"Say it, agent. Give me the mission, or I'll tear it out of your cunt."

You bite your lip until it splits, your fingers clawing grooves into the stone. Your body betrays you, every nerve alight.

She grabs your hair, yanks your head back, her lips at your ear.

"Tell me why you were really in Berlin," she growls. "Whose blood were you after?"

You whimper through gritted teeth. "You..."

Another thrust, sharper. Deeper.

"What was your extraction plan? What asset did you plant? Don't make me ask again."

You gasp, jaw dropping, unable to form the words fast enough.

She fucks into you again, her magic pulsing through every thrust.

"Tell me who gave the order, agent. Say their name. Say it while I ruin you."

You shake under her, a moan escaping before you can swallow it down.

"That's right," Wanda hisses. "You're not holding out. You're holding back. Because deep down, you want this. You want to give everything to me. And I'm going to take it. All of it."

She slams into you again, and you break.

"You," you sob. "You. You."

Her moan is primal, dark, triumphant.

"Good girl," she breathes. "Now scream it until they hear you in whatever grave SHIELD buried your backup in."

And when you do, loud, wrecked, pleading, she groans low in her throat, hips stuttering before she regains her rhythm with punishing force.

"That's it," she hisses. "You beg so pretty. But I want more. Give me the fucking intel or I pull out and leave you empty."

You cry out, body rocking beneath her, words spilling from your mouth like surrender. "Don't stop. Please—don't stop—"

Her laugh is dark, amused, merciless.

"Then give me a name. Say who sent you. Or I stop right now and make you finish with your own fingers while I watch."

You shake, gasping, desperate. She pulls back halfway. The threat is real.

Your voice cracks as you plead. "No—Wanda, please—"

She presses back in, hard enough to bruise.

"That's better. Keep begging. Keep giving. Or I take my cock and my mercy and leave you in this hole to remember what it felt like to be full of me."

You scream for her again. Not in pain. In total, broken, blissed-out need.

And Wanda? She moans against your ear like she's finally home.

Your face twists, eyelids fluttering, mouth slack, sweat and tears mixing as you writhe beneath her. Your voice is no longer defiant, it's raw, pleading, desperate.

"I'll tell you," you choke out. "Just—don't stop. Please, don't stop."

Her groan is vicious, satisfied, dragging against your spine. She doesn't stop. She moves harder.

"There she is," Wanda hisses. "The obedient little mouth I've been waiting for. Give it to me. Now."

Your moans break around the words. "It was coded intel—drop point under the checkpoint in Berlin. They wanted your extraction pattern—your weaknesses—"

"None," she snaps, biting your shoulder. "I have none."

"I know," you sob, gasping. "I know—please—"

She fucks you deeper, like reward, like punishment.

"Say it again. Who do you belong to?"

"You," you moan, eyes rolling back. "Only you."

She groals in your ear, dark and ravenous.

"That's right. And you'll never belong to anyone else again."

You whimper beneath her, barely able to breathe between moans. "They have files," you gasp. "Everything on you. Enhanced surveillance. Power pattern analysis. Emergency strike plans in case you went rogue—"

Wanda snarls, driving her hips forward with sudden fury. "They planned for this? For me?"

"Yes!" you sob. "But nothing—nothing that could stop you. Please—"

Her hand wraps around your waist and she shifts position, dragging your body up with hers. She presses your back to her chest, spreading your legs wider with her knees, fucking you at a new angle that sends lightning down your spine.

You throw your head back against her shoulder, moaning openly now.

"Right there—right there—please don't stop—"

"Then keep talking," she commands. Her voice is a growl against your ear. "Tell me what else they know. Tell me what they fear."

You babble through tears and broken gasps. "They know you're unstable—they think grief is your weakness—but it's not, it's not—"

"No," Wanda breathes, her pace brutal, delicious. "Grief made me free."

She shifts again, slamming into you harder from behind, forcing your palms flat to the floor as you sob beneath her.

"Say it again," she growls. "Say whose name you scream for."

"Wanda—" you cry. "Yours—only yours—"

And she rewards you with everything.

Her hips snap. Her power sears. Her mouth is a weapon pressed to your throat.

And you break for her again, giving her every secret you were trained to die with.

"They had contingency spells," you gasp, shaking beneath her. "Dark tech—backdoor psionics keyed to your DNA signature—please, right there—"

Wanda groans behind you, thrusts sharpening, pace punishing. "Keep going. You talk, I fuck you deeper. That's the deal."

"They were working with the Sorcerer Supreme," you moan, eyes rolling back, hips jerking back into her. "Mystic containment units—fail-safe tech hidden in Prague—I wasn't supposed to engage—I just—I had to see you—"

She groals, slamming into you so hard your hands scramble against the floor for purchase.

"Good girl," she snarls. "Keep confessing. Every word makes you tighter. Do you feel that? That's your body begging to betray everything you stood for."

You sob out, "Don't stop—please, Wanda, I'm yours—I'll give you everything—"

She leans in, lips at your neck, breath hot and cruel. "You already have.""

Her thrusts slow, grinding, deep, drawing out every sob, every broken moan she's pulled from your throat. She presses a kiss to your jaw, wet and open-mouthed, her voice a low snarl against your skin.

"All that training," she murmurs, "and this is what finally breaks you."

Your nails scrape helplessly at the floor, your back arching as she pounds into you again. You can't form words. You don't need to.

"You gave them everything," she growls, nipping at your shoulder, "and they gave you to me."

Another thrust. Then another.

"And now," she whispers, voice dark with satisfaction, "you're going to come for me like the good little traitor you are."

And when you do, screaming her name, there's no doubt who owns you.

Your body locks, every nerve alight, your orgasm crashing through you like a warhead. You sob her name again and again, voice cracking on every breathless syllable. Wanda doesn't stop, not until she groans low and deep behind you, her body shuddering against yours.

You feel her pulse, thick and hot, deep inside, magic flaring red across your skin like sparks in a blackout. She pants into your neck, pressing tighter, nails digging into your hips.

Then, slowly, she pulls out.

You collapse to the floor, shaking, spent. You don't dare move. Can't.

She rises, naked and towering, unhurried as she gathers her clothes. Red tendrils of energy curl protectively around her skin, warding, cloaking. Her body is still flushed, lips parted, chest rising in deep, satisfied breaths.

Her voice breaks the silence like a spell. "SHIELD thinks they've caged a god. They're wrong. I'm going to burn their plans. Their files. Their cities."

You stare up at her, dazed, ruined.

She steps toward the door, pausing just long enough to look back over her shoulder.

"Rest up, agent. When I come back—"

Her lips curl.

"—you'd better be ready to beg again."

[therealmswhore]

changing my blog name from @agathariosslut to @natsbabyspider!!

[youronebraincell]

Space Girl

Kara Zor-El x Fem!Reader

Warnings: first meeting, attempted robbery, some humor, flirting, shameless smut, vaginal fingering, inappropriate use of kryptonian abilities, cunnilingus, strap-on use, no aftercare but something close, kinda and freeze breath

Word count: 3200

A human and an alien walk into a bar..

The bars in Star City have a different atmosphere than the ones back in Metropolis. They feel more.. real. In Metropolis, it always felt like people were pretending. It irked you in a way you couldn’t say.

Whatever the reason for your detachment, you feel more at home in the city of the Emerald Archer.

The smell of cheap alcohol hits you almost immediately as you enter the bar. It isn’t getting a five star rating anytime soon, but it’s cheap and will help you unwind after the day you’ve had. Plus it’s within walking distance of your place.

You take a seat at the counter. You look behind you when you hear the telltale sign of a struggle.

A burly man with a beard and black plug earrings that stretches the inside of his earlobes seems to be in an arm wrestling match with a short blonde woman. The man is sweating and his arm is trembling. The woman.. is at ease. She puts on a show, feigning a yawn by covering her mouth with her free hand. A smirk pulls at her lips before she slams his hand on the table and wins the match.

The crowd around her erupts in cheers while the man curses under his breath. The woman stumbles out of her chair, barely landing on her feet, before sluggishly throwing her arms up in victory.

You turn towards the bartender, gesturing to the strong blonde. “I’ll have what she had”

“She didn’t order anything” The tatted female bartender says, pouring a glass of whiskey neat. She sets it in front of a sharp-dressed customer before giving you her full attention. “She was already wasted when she came in here”

You look back at the blonde who is now stacking ten shot glasses into a triangle. Her tongue darts out between her lips as she concentrates.

You can’t help but smile at the sight.

Your smile drops when her eyes meet yours.

You quickly turn around, super embarrassed, and hope she doesn’t-

“Hey”

Well, fuck.

You look to your right and see the blonde now sitting next to you. Her eyes roam over your outfit, a simple jeans and shirt combo, shamelessly.

“..Hey” You say back.

“You look like shit”

You blink in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“You look like shit” The blonde repeats, slower this time like you’re an idiot. She grabs the bottle of Smirnoff that’s within reaching distance and unscrews the cap. “Need me to say it a third time?”

“Hey!” The bartender from earlier shouts to get the blonde’s attention. “You can’t do that”

The blonde tilts the mostly-full bottle towards the man she overpowered in the arm wrestling match. “He’s buying” Is all she says before chugging the vodka, the base pointing up at the ceiling.

Your eyes widen as you watch her finish the bottle in seconds. She slams it back down on the counter before letting out a burp that’s followed by a giggle.

Yeah, you don’t have the energy for this.

You grab your purse and put the strap over your shoulder before leaving the bar.

Once you’ve stepped onto the sidewalk, you start walking the path back to your apartment. You turn a corner near a closed tattoo parlor with a neon sign that’s turned off. Out of the corner of your eyes, you make out two figures in dark clothes, trailing behind you in the parlor window’s reflection. Your breath hitches, but your footsteps don’t falter.

Stay cool. They don’t know that you’ve seen them. Don’t do anything suspicious. Keep walking.

You rush down the pedestrian crossing while the sign is still green in hopes of losing them. They jog and manage to catch up with you just before the light turns red. Fuck. You start walking faster.

So do they.

You pass an alleyway and make a sharp left when you round a corner. After taking a breath, you open the pocket knife that you carry in your purse for situations like this and confidently turn around with the knife in hand, ready to put up a fight.

There’s no one in front of you. You look around, but see no one out of the ordinary. You lower your knife before slowly tucking the blade back in.

You retrace your steps in time to see a pair of arms being dragged into the alley.

You hear a short scream before it’s cut off.

Every instinct you have is telling you to run.

Instead, you take slow, deliberate steps towards the alley. You're standing on the pavement as you stare down it. You’re met with complete darkness on the end of the alley and a silence that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

Your heart is pounding outside of your chest.

It drops to your stomach when you suddenly see a pair of glowing red eyes in the alley’s darkness.

You stand still, holding your breath.

The red eyes grow bigger and bigger as their owner makes their way towards you. Soon enough, a figure emerges from the shadows.

It’s the blonde from the bar. Except, instead of insulting you, she looks like she could tear you apart. You watch the bright red in her eyes die down until they return to their normal colors.

“What are you?” You find yourself asking.

The two of you are now standing close enough that you can smell the vodka radiating off of her. Weirdly enough, she looks less drunk now than when you first saw her arm wrestling that guy in the bar. It’s like the vodka didn’t affect her at all.

The blonde’s eyes bore into yours. In them you can see the exhaustion, the weight of past tragedies that she seems to carry with her like a burden.

“My name is Kara Zor-El” She says, her voice stern and even. “I am the last daughter of Krypton”

“Krypton? As in Superman’s home planet?”

“He’s kind of my cousin”

“Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England” You snark before rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest. You lower your gaze when you notice the bit of blue peaking out through her coat.

Kara groans and loosens her coat to reveal her suit that’s identical to the one Superman wears. Safe for the red skirt. “Now do you believe me?”

Your lips part before you catch yourself and stubbornly press them together.

“No?” Kara questions, tilting her head slightly.

For every step she takes towards you, you take one back until she has you up against the wall.

Kara has a lazy grin on her face that you shouldn’t find charming, but goddamn it. You turn away when she leans into your side, her lips a hair's breadth from the shell of your ear. “How about I show you” There’s a pause. Her hands find your waist, gripping you just enough for you to feel her, “exactly what I’m capable of?” She whispers.

Her voice slides over your skin like silk, igniting a slow ache that settles deep in your core. You hate this betrayal of your flesh and thoughts. Yet, you can’t help, but subtly arch into her. You also make no move to take her hands off your body.

“Wrap your arms around my neck”

Her voice pulls you back from your lustful thoughts. You blink back into reality. “Huh?”

Before you can say anything else, Kara takes off straight into the night sky with you in her arms.

“OH MY GOD!!”

Kara laughs as you scramble to get your arms around her neck. “Don’t worry. I got you”

“Oh my god” You repeat softer this time, your eyes screwed shut. You feel the breeze as you soar further and further into the heavens. “Holy shit..”

At some point, you can feel that you’re no longer flying and instead just.. levitating?

The side of your face is pressed into Kara’s chest out of pure fear from when she abruptly took flight. You slowly open your eyes and are met with an upclose view of the stars. Your lips part in awe.

Kara rests her chin on your head.

You don’t know how long you both stay there, levitating. Holding each other. You wet your lips, preparing yourself to speak. “So, you’re an alien”

“Yep”

You pull away from her chest to look up at her. “Why did you reveal yourself to me?”

Kara just shrugs like it’s an insignificant question.

You raise your hand. Her eyes don’t stray from your face as your fingers caress her cheek. “I think.. you’re lonely” You whisper, your gaze on her lips.

Kara lets her eyes flutter close before melting into your touch. It’s been ages since she allowed someone to touch her like this. Nevermind an ordinary human. But you.. There’s something about you that makes her let down all her defenses.

Kara meets your gaze once she’s opened her eyes.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight”

“Maybe you don’t have to be”

You both lean in simultaneously before your lips crash in a slow, cautious kiss. Kara slides her arms around your waist, pulling you closer as she deepens the kiss. You moan softly against her lips when her tongue forces its way into your mouth. You tangle your fingers in the back of her hair while your mouths escalate the kiss into something dirty.

When you pull away to catch your breath, you keep one hand on her chest. She doesn’t look the slightest bit phased. You look up at her when you realize something. “I never told you my name”

Kara thinks about it. “Huh. I guess you didn’t”

“It’s Y/N”

“Y/N” Kara repeats, liking the way your name rolls off her tongue. “Well, Y/N, should we go back to your place or do you want to call it a night?”

“Well,” You wrap your arms around her neck, “you did say you'd show me exactly what you're capable of. Can you do more than fly or are you just a one-trick pony?” You’re saying this to rile her up.

Kara seems to take the bait. “Excuse me? You know I can do a lot more than this, right?”

Now it’s your turn to shrug.

Kara shakes her head, a roguish smile pulling at her lips. “You’re in for a long night, gorgeous”

After giving her the directions, Kara flies you to your loft. Technically, it’s not yours, but Helena lets you stay here while she’s in Gotham. Free of charge. When you tried to reason with her about paying rent, she just hung up on you.

You reluctantly decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. It’s not like you were making that much at Jitters to afford the loft anyway.

You open the door with your key. When you’re both inside, Kara pulls you by the waist and captures your lips with her own. You fumble to close the door behind you before Kara presses you against the wooden surface. After a few attempts, you manage to lock the door without breaking the kiss. You let out a muffled moan when Kara grabs your breasts.

She pulls away. “Don’t freak out”

Before you have a chance to question her, you feel a gush of wind that lasts about one second. What you don’t feel is the clothes that you’re supposed to be wearing. You look down at your body and see that you are, in fact, nude. And so is Kara.

The blonde doesn’t take her eyes off your body. More specifically, your breasts. “Rao..” She breathes out, reaching forward to grab your breasts again. Her thumb moves back and forth against your left nipple while her other hand tweaks the right one between her fingers. “They’re beautiful” Kara says before looking up at you without stopping her ministrations. “You’re beautiful”

Her hands move to your hips. You wrap your arms around Kara’s neck. You have no idea who moves first, but soon your mouths are a clash of teeth, tongue, and desperate moans. Every rational thought evaporates under the white-hot need consuming you. You hold her tighter when you can no longer feel your feet touching the floor. Unlike last time, Kara slowly flies the two of you up to your bed. She lays you down gently before getting on top of you. All without breaking the kiss.

Eventually, Kara pulls away. She holds your gaze as her hand reaches between your thighs which you are more than happy to part for her. She trails her middle finger up and down your slit, slowly, gathering the evidence of your arousal on her fingertip. “I’ve never been with a human before”

“I’ve never been with an alien. Or meta-human”

Kara rests her head against your collarbone, her eyes closed. “You know what I am, Y/N. You’ve seen what I’ve done” She says, probably (and definitely) referring to those guys in the alley.

You had forgotten all about them.

Kara lifts her head to look at you. “If we go through with this, I need to know you won’t have regrets”

“I should be telling you that” You say as you caress the end of her left eyebrow. “I saw you down an entire bottle of vodka like it was fucking water”

A sly smile pulls at Kara’s lips. “For me, it basically was water. Kryptonians can’t get drunk under the yellow sun. But enough chitchat. Are you ready to have the best night of your entire life?”

You nod a bit too eagerly. “Yes. Don’t hold back”

Kara lets out a soft laugh.

Your back arches when she simultaneously pushes two fingers knuckle-deep into your core. It catches you off guard. A breathy moan leaves your lips.

“Baby, if I don’t hold back, the only things that will be left of you are ashes and blood”

Her words send a shiver down your spine. But they also make your walls clench around her fingers.

“But I appreciate the enthusiasm” She whispers before taking one of your breasts in her mouth.

She starts moving her fingers inside you, setting a steady pace. You moan and turn your head to the side. You glance at the digital alarm clock on your nightstand that reads 10:04PM in big, red numbers.

The night is a blur of endless passion and sexual discovery as Kara puts her kryptonian abilities to good use. She eats you out while levitating high up in the air, your back up against the wall while your hand presses against the ceiling. The other is tangled in her hair, gripping the blonde strands with so much force that your knuckles whiten.

Things only escalate from there.

Around eleven, you mention the sex toys in your bottom drawer. That’s when it really gets interesting. At some point close to midnight, the bed breaks. But that doesn’t stop Kara from pounding into you from behind with a vibrant blue dildo attached to a black leather harness. Her hand is on the back of your neck, keeping your head down and the side of your face pressing deep into the mattress. You moan every time her hips make contact with your ass. The depraved sound of skin slapping against skin fills the spacious loft.

The night surpasses your wildest fantasies.

You, or rather Kara, dents the stone wall when she fucks you face to face (with both your feet touching the floor this time). She thrusts into you like a woman possessed. You swear that she growls before picking up one of your legs and placing her hand underneath your thigh, holding you open for her while she thrusts into you.

You grab her face with one hand and press your lips against hers in a sloppy, passionate kiss.

You lose track of how many orgasms you have, what positions you do and more. This happens around the time when she uses freeze breath on your nipples, turning your mind into mush.

But eventually, like all good things, the night, or better yet morning, comes to an end.

You’re breathless and beyond spent when Kara lowers you onto your bed. You don’t even have it in you to keep your eyes open. The light of the early morning sun shining through the floor to ceiling windows causes you to wince and turn your head away. Reluctantly, your eyes flutter open. You turn your head again and spare a glance at the alarm clock on your nightstand. It reads 05:37AM.

It dawns on you then and there that you just had crazy alien sex for almost eight hours. Sweet.

You lift your head at the sound of approaching footsteps. You see Kara make her way up the stairs. Walking. She has a beer in each hand. Your eyes shamelessly roam over her nude figure.

Kara pops the caps off with her thumbs then brings a bottle to her lips. She walks over to you and hands you the other one before joining you in bed.

The two of you sit up against the headboard.

“Can you make mine a little cooler?”

Kara takes your bottle and gives it a quick blow. Frost creeps down the neck of it, misting the glass as a chill pulses through it. Ice crystals bloom beneath the label. Within seconds, the beer is perfectly cold in her hand. She gives it back to you.

“Thanks” You take a sip, allowing the cold liquid to enter your mouth before you swallow and take a few more sips. You pull the bottle away and turn to look at the kryptonian in your bed. “Why are you drinking this stuff if it doesn’t affect you?”

“I like the taste” Kara responds with a shrug. She's taking a sip when she puts an arm around your shoulder. “And I didn’t want you to drink alone”

“Aw” You coo at her before leaning against her chest. You absentmindedly stroke your finger up and down her thigh. “So.. what now?”

“This is usually the part where I leave”

“Oh”

But Kara doesn’t move. It’s only until after she finishes her beer that she wraps her other arm around you, holding you close. She looks at you. “But I have no intention of leaving you so soon”

“Good” You put your half-empty bottle on the nightstand before snuggling up to her. “Because I still have a shit ton of alien-related questions-“

Kara cuts you off. “They can wait” She shifts both of you so that you're lying down instead of sitting up. She drapes a blanket over your bodies. “You’re human. Humans need rest after-“

“Mindblowing alien sex?”

Kara snorts a laugh. “Exactly”

Your eyes flutter close, the exhaustion of said mindblowing alien sex finally catching up to you now that your adrenaline has died down.

Kara stares up at the ceiling. “Rest now, Y/N. I’m right here” She plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. “And I’m not going anywhere”

Her words comfort you in a way nothing has in a long time. You let out a soft, barely audible yawn.

It doesn’t take long for you to succumb to sleep.

[caroldantops]

kinktober req:

rio vidal x reader where they are in a relationship ship and reader sees her skull face for the first time. (cute + also reader finds it cool and rio is like “u.. what??:O”) fluff fluff

OR reader is like super turned on by it and rio is like 😼😼😼yeah?

kinktober masterlist | leave a tip 💜

word count: 1086

notes/warnings: gender neutral reader, light hurt/comfort, fluff, pet death

In retrospect, the signs were there the entire time. Most of them, you tended to write off as your girlfriend just being a rather eccentric witch, with a level of confidence that you were sure just came naturally with centuries of living.

But some of them didn't really add up.

Rio didn't really eat. She would steal your snacks for fun, and there were a few types of food she seemed to particularly enjoy indulging in, but she would often go days without touching any sustenance. At first you thought that maybe this was some sort of enchantment she used so that she wouldn't have to bother with feeding herself.

Rio would disappear for days at a time, on short notice. You knew that she had some sort of witchy reasoning for suddenly needing to run off, but not having the full explanation was certainly a point of contention between the two of you. After one fight, she started sending you telepathic messages or little love letters delivered by various forest creatures, which definitely soothed the tension. And made you feel like a Disney princess.

Rio was also perpetually cold. Not normal cold, either. Like, so cold that you often joked that she didn't have blood. Or organs. Or that she simply wasn't alive.

Safe to say, when the reason for all her oddities was revealed, you felt a little vindicated about that particular comment.

The day you learned the truth about Rio was one you wouldn't forget, for many reasons. Even though you were expecting your very ancient cat to pass soon, it doesn't make the ordeal less emotional. Especially given the fact that you're alone right now. Rio's off on "business" again.

You carry the little bundle of blankets to the backyard, your eyes red-rimmed from crying in the kitchen for the past twenty minutes. You're about to grab the shovel from the garage when you hear a little poof of magic. Rio appears before you, and you leap into her arms.

"I'm sorry, mi amor," she says in a soft voice that's reserved especially for you. "You gave him a very good life."

"I know," you sniffle, rubbing your face against her shirt. The material is scratchier than any of the clothes you usually see her in. You pull back, and your brow furrows as you see that she's dressed intricate black robes, with a dark veil draped over her head. "What are you wearing?"

Rio gives you a sad smile.

"Let me help," she insists, ignoring your question. She uses her magic to make a perfectly sized grave near her garden. You hold her hand tight, watching as she buries your beloved pet with such tenderness that you forgot that you were even frustrated at her previous absence.

Rio looks up at you with a hesitant expression on her face as she grows a little flower in the upturned dirt. The petals are the same orange as your cat's fur. "I'm going to make sure that the rest of his journey is safe. I'll be right back, I promise."

Before you can ask what the hell that means, Rio's magic swirls around her, and she vanishes once more. Your mind races. The grass is cool against you as you sit down next to the grave, drawing your knees to your chest as you wait. It's not long, maybe a few minutes, before Rio returns.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"So," Rio draws out the word. She sits in front of you. "Have you put the pieces together yet? Or am I going to have to go through a whole awkward spiel? Because I can regale a very intricate story, if I must. Flowery language and metaphors abound."

You giggle, wiping the last stray tear from your cheek. Rio smiles.

"I have a theory."

"Maybe this will help."

Rio ducks her head a bit. A shimmery spiral of black magic twists around her head. You gasp softly as her face changes. Her beautiful brown eyes still gaze at you expectantly, but the lower half of her face has become skeletal. She tilts her head at you, trying to read your expression. Your mind wanders to the tarot set that you have and the striking resemblance that your girlfriend bears to one of the cards.

"Death."

"Yes." Rio's jaw doesn't move. Her voice is hollow and distorted in your mind. The tone is powerful and fills you with reverence for the all-powerful being before you. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"I understand why you didn't." You reach out and trace your fingers along her face. She doesn't flinch or move away, letting you explore. "I can't believe at some point I wondered if all the time away was because you were cheating on me."

"I wouldn't dream of it. I can't die, but I think you'd find a way to make me wish I could," Rio chuckles. She takes your hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over your skin. "Collecting souls is a full time job."

"I'm surprised you don't leave more often." Rio shrugs. "Maybe you can tell me more over dinner?"

"I assume that means you're not breaking up with me for taking your cat to the other side."

"No!" You look a little offended that Rio would even suggest such a thing. Rio is surprised when you climb in her lap, your hands cupping her jaw. "It's just the circle of life, isn't it? You just make sure he's safe on the way there."

"I try my best. It helped that he was pretty agreeable."

"He's probably excited for an eternity of naps."

Silence falls over the backyard for a moment as the two of you sit with this new reality. Birds chirp in the trees, and the wind sweeps through the garden that Rio has spent months making sure is absolutely perfect. You trace your fingers along Rio's face, as if trying to memorize all the new details.

"You're beautiful, my love."

If Rio could blush right now, she would.

"If you're into Halloween decorations, sure," she brushes off the compliment.

"Oh god, are those like, super offensive to you?"

Rio laughs, and you can't get over the way it sounds ringing in your head. It's like your mind is utterly taken over by her joy. You can't stop smiling as you press a firm kiss to her cheek. The feeling of bone under your lips is certainly new.

But you're sure that you'll get used to it in record time.

[whre4wanda-deactivated20251023]

Professors Obsessions

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.

Your pov:

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.

Lie.

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.

"Great. Can't wait."

_

_

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:

"Holy shit, she's back."

"Finally live again???"

"We missed you, angel."

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.

"She's so wet already."

"Shit, I can hear it."

"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.

"One more."

"Please round two."

"Don't stop yet."

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.

The chat explodes again.

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.

"Fuck, fuck, oh my g-"

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.

"My essay."

"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."

"You cannot be serious."

"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.

"Come on really? 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.

"Yeah I'm not."

"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."

"I bet you do."

"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.

"Missed you, baby."

"Finally! Been starving for you."

"Ride that toy for us."

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:

"Spread wider."

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:

"Good girl. Faster."

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.

"Yes Professor?"

"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.

"I thought so."

"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.

"Go on, say it."

"No."

"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.

"Poor baby."

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?

No.

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.

“Then don’t stop.”

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.

“Ruin me too.”

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.

_________________________________________

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

Ann~

[therealmswhore]

help I need somebody to choke me and call me a good girl!!!