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natashaslittlegirl · 8 months
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the way she says ‘mommy’ - i’m giggling and kicking my feet rn
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natashaslittlegirl · 8 months
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my jaw dropped idk
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natashaslittlegirl · 8 months
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BITE THE HAND THAT FEEDS. mdni. 18+.
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pairings: dark ! natasha romanoff + f ! reader
summary: natasha has always liked to hunt, and it's even better when her prey is a pretty girl
warnings: violence, abuse, bear trap, injury, established kidnapping/established relationship, almost outdoor sex, public indecency, hair pulling, impact play, groping, guns, daddy kink
wc: 3.2k~
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“Natasha, please.” You whimper, grabbing at her wrist to try and ease some of the strain on your hair as she drags you out of the house and through the yard. “Stop, I don’t want to do this.” Tears are rolling down your cheeks now from the pain in your scalp and your face from the previous punches Natasha threw your way. 
“Really? Could’ve fuckin’ fooled me.” Natasha growls, tugging harder and making you trip over your own feet before she hauls you up, only to push you to the ground afterwards, glaring at your shaking form on the ground. 
This was your fault, you shouldn’t have tried to run. It was stupid, you know that now. You just wished you had more freedom, that’s all. 
You were naked save for the panties and bra she allowed you to keep on, having forced you to strip about ten minutes prior. Your body trembled in the chilly autumn air of whatever part of Russia Natasha inhabited, one of the Oblasts you think, it was the most likely, but you weren’t sure. She didn’t like to keep you conscious while she was traveling, so you were never quite sure where you were. But you know you’ve been in this specific place for a while now, at her out of place house, in the middle of nowhere, in the Russian wilderness. 
You startle when you hear a knife make a soft thud on the grass next to you and you look up at Natasha, sniffling and trying to wipe your tears away. You know she doesn’t like it when you cry over nothing like this. “Tasha, I’m sorry, I promise. Please, I’ll be good, I don’t want to do this again.” Your bottom lip wobbles and you try to keep your voice even, but it trembles and you know Natasha heard. 
“Don’t ‘Tasha’ me.” She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Pick up the knife. Get up.” And when you don’t make any moves to get up, still hoping she’ll change her mind, she lands a harsh kick to your thigh and you whimper. “Now! Don’t make me say it again.”
You squeak involuntarily, tears starting to spill down your cheeks again. You don’t like when Natasha yells at you, even more than you don’t like when she hits you like this and treats you like a ragdoll. ‘If you don’t like it, then don’t do anything to deserve it’ you can hear her voice in the back of your head. You shouldn’t have done anything to upset her. Everything that happens from now on is your fault, you know that, but still, you can’t help but wish Natasha would be just a little nicer. 
You grab the hunting knife with a shaky hand, gripping the handle and starting to stand up. “You want to be a good girl?” She asks and you nod hesitantly, you know where this is going. “Then you can be a good girl by getting out of my sight. You wanted so badly to leave this morning, so go on then.”
“But Tasha, I’m not– I’m–”
“What the fuck did I just say? Go!”
The loudness of her voice is enough to have your body moving before your brain even registers what she said, scrambling away like a scared animal. You’ve always hated when Natasha got like this, you don’t like this game. You’ve never played it like this, but it’s never been fun either way.
The game is really quite simple, Natasha is the predator and you are her prey. She gives you five minutes to run– ten minutes if she’s feeling particularly nice, before she comes after you. The knife is because she’s not that cruel, she doesn’t want some wild animal to be the reason you die. You are in the Russian wilderness, afterall. All of the previous times she’s done this you’ve been fully clothed, though, and you wish she had let you keep your clothes on this time, too.
She must have been feeling particularly mean to make you do this in the current weather. It’s not horribly windy, but the air is not still either, and the wind that blows past is bitter and cold. You think the time on the clock read 4:26pm when Natasha dragged you through the living room, which meant you had about two hours before the sun would set. 
Natasha had never really let you outside late enough for the sun to set, and you weren’t entirely sure you wanted your first time out past sunset to be in the forest, but you also didn’t know what exactly she would do when she found you. Natasha was unpredictable. Some days she was soft and gentle, like she was when you first got together, and other days she was mean and cold, treating you as if you were nothing but a burden she had to drag around with her. You knew she didn’t mean it, though. If that’s what she really thought then she would have dropped you off in the middle of nowhere months ago, maybe even left you years ago, and drove off without so much as a look back. 
Your feet are sore as you run across the ground, rocks and dirt sticking to your bare feet, twigs scattered everywhere, some sharp and some not, digging into your flesh harshly. You know you’ll be cleaning cuts when you get back to the house, but you try not to focus on the pain so you can focus on where you’re going instead. You know that the closest village is about 15 miles away, an impossible distance even when you’re running your fastest.
It would take around two hours to get there and Natasha would never let that happen anyway, the longest she’d ever taken in her little hunt was 45 minutes because you’d somehow managed to climb a tree. You never did that again after how terrifying it was to have her climb up after you and practically throw you down from it. 
You could never go into the village in your state of undress anyway, something Natasha was counting on. 
You don’t know how long you’ve been running for when you stop to catch your breath, if it’s been less than or more than ten minutes– the maximum amount of time Natasha would have given you to get a headstart. Not that it really mattered, the outcome would be the same no matter how long you’d been running. That, at least, was predictable. 
You hear a gunshot in the distance and you bolt. You didn’t know she had that with her, you didn’t see it before back at the cabin. She’d never used it on you, only to scare you, but that doesn’t mean today won’t be the day that changes. She did seem rather volatile today. You look behind you and you can’t see her anywhere, not even a glimpse of her red hair. 
Is she using her gun to signal that it's been five minutes? Ten minutes? That would be new. But what else would she possibly be wasting a bullet for? 
Is there someone else out here? No, there couldn’t be, there’s never been before. Who would have found their way all the way out here? You don’t even know where here is, so why would anyone who isn’t Natasha know where you are?
And if there is someone else out here, was that Natasha’s gun firing or theirs? Your heart is beating faster now, moreso out of genuine fear rather than nervousness like before. Sure, Natasha could be scary, but she’d never evoked this kind of fear out of you before. You’re conflicted now. Should you keep running or should you go back to see if Natasha is okay? You have a knife, surely you could help? But what good is a knife against a gun?
Your mind is going so fast you can barely keep up. You hadn’t felt this anxious since you thought Natasha was going to die in the hands of Ultron all those years ago. 
Your feet are moving on their own and with your constant glances behind, you aren’t paying any attention to where you’re running. You even climbed
 something, but you weren’t paying enough attention even to that. Usually, you’d be more vigilant, you know that Natasha likes to set traps sometimes, keep you nervous about what’s out there and give you a reason not to try and escape.
But you’re not paying any attention to the ground below you as you run, too focused on the gun shot you had heard that you don’t see the trap in front of you. You had never been up here anyway, you never would have known about it. You barely even feel yourself stepping on the pan in the middle until the two steel jaws clamp around your ankle and you let out a blood curdling scream. 
Bear traps aren’t supposed to hurt like this, they’re not supposed to be this sharp. Natasha was just cruel.
You instantly drop to the ground, on your knees first and then sitting as you uselessly try to pry the trap off of your leg. Your hands are trembling and covered in blood as you cry. Just the sight of all your blood is almost enough to make you pass out. You hiccup on your own sobs, trying to figure out how you could possibly get this trap off. You wish Natasha were here. 
Natasha grunts as she pulls herself up onto the top of a rock face. How you had strayed so far from your usual path, she had no idea. Well, she had a little bit of an idea. She did fire her gun just to make you jump. She can tell you’d been here, though, if the fresh blood on the sharp rock was any indication. Her poor baby, you must have cut yourself, why didn’t you just choose another direction?
Once she’s on her feet again, she looks around for any other signs of you. The grass is flattened to the east and she narrows her eyes as she looks further in that direction. She knows that climbing must have slowed you down a lot, and if she knows her girl, then the pain from whatever cuts you have will have you whining and complaining to yourself the whole time. If she listens close enough, she’d probably just be able to hear you, so she walks in the direction of the flattened grass. 
She pauses for a second and then crouches down to get a closer look at the ground. Yes, you were running away from the rock face, not towards it. And it looks like you have a few cuts on the bottom of your feet if the dark maroon stains on some of the blades of grass meant anything. Natasha supposes she could have been a little less cruel and given you shoes, but it’s a little too late for that now. 
She stands again and begins walking further, she’s not running, no longer worried about how far ahead you may have gotten. You’d be tired by now even without any injuries, and Natasha was much faster than you even on your best days, it didn’t matter if she ran or walked now. She was in the home stretch.
She looks down at the watch on her wrist and hums. It had been 20 minutes since she’d set you free, and that was more than enough time for her to simmer down at least a little bit and for you to trap yourself in your thoughts of her being mad at you. Ones that would have you pleading at her feet, she’s sure, begging her to forgive you more than you were before. 
And she has simmered down, realized that perhaps her reaction to the fear of you wanting to leave her wasn’t quite appropriate. But really, when were any of her reactions appropriate? This was an okay approach, she reasons, making you realize you never wanted to be without her.
And then she hears it. A scream in the distance. 
Natasha’s fingers twitch and she wonders if she should fire another blank or not. She slows her breathing and does her best to create minimal noise as she walks towards the source of the sound. She knows it’s you, but she doesn’t know what has you screaming like that. If it’s an animal, she can sneak up and kill it before it hurts you. And if it’s not, well, she might be in for a little treat. 
She’s not disappointed when she sees you sitting down and leaning against a tree, sniffling as you look down at your leg. Your very bloody leg, actually. And then Natasha’s eyes focus properly and she sees the trap clamped tightly around your leg, the teeth from the jaws sunk into your flesh. Poor thing, you’ll never see her coming. Unless

She considers having a little mercy, but once she knows she’s close enough to be in your eye sight and for you to panic, she reaches into her back pocket for her gun and fires it into the air. 
She watches as you practically jump out of your skin, and a pained whimper slips past your lips, looking around with wide eyes until you spot her. You’re like a deer caught in headlights and you know there’s nothing you can do now, you can’t run and even if you tried, you wouldn’t get very far, the trap is chained somewhere to a chain fence stake somewhere in the ground. 
Natasha stalks towards you, eyes hungry as she takes in the sight in front of her. “Run into a little trouble, did you?” She grins, wolf-like, and crouches in front of you. “This looks like it hurts, baby. You poor thing.” And you know she’s going to do something bad when she reaches out, but you don’t expect her to start poking and prodding at the injury. 
You whimper and your fists clench at your sides, “T–Tasha, please.” Your teeth clench, “Stop
 Yes, it hurts, ah!”
She chuckles and grants you a little mercy. She presses down on the springs on both sides, using her strength to open the jaws, “Move your leg.” She instructs when your leg is finally free of the metal, the dislodging causing a pained whine to escape your lips. When all you do is sniffle and look at her she sighs, “Now or I will let it go and we both know you don’t want that.”
Hesitantly, you move your leg out of the trap, wincing when you feel a jolt of pain shoot up your leg. Natasha lets go and the trap snaps shut before she picks it up and tosses it somewhere behind her, you hear it hit the ground with a dull thud. “There. Aren't things always better when you listen to me?”
She takes a second to properly examine the injury you’ve sustained. The wounds aren’t too deep and they’ll definitely need some cleaning and they’ll take time to heal, but that is something she’ll worry about later. For now

“You didn’t lose my good hunting knife, did you?” she tilts her head to the side and you shrink a little under her gaze. “W– Well, I didn’t really lose it, I promise, b– but I didn’t have anywhere to put it and I needed my hands and–”
Natasha cuts you off with a kiss and your eyes widen in surprise. You thought she’d be mad at you, not kissing you, but maybe this means you’re forgiven. “Don’t care, I’ll find it later. Seeing you like this
 We might have to do this more often.” Her hands roughly grope at your breasts and you whine before she rips your bra off of you entirely, it’s times like this where you’re reminded of just how strong she actually is.
You want to cry at her words, yell and tell her you don’t want to do this again, you don’t like this. Tears well up in your eyes at just the thought of having to do this again, especially in a state of undress like this and you wish you could tell her to stop, that you don’t want this anymore, you can’t take it, but you know you can’t. After all, what would you do without her? Even if being with her means you get hurt like this sometimes, you don’t think you could really ever live without her. You just wish she’d go back to being sweet Natasha all the time.
Natasha interrupts your thoughts with another kiss, this one a little more hungry and insistent. You wish she would at least take you back to the house, but it seems that she wants you now and she’s unwilling to wait. You could try to convince her to at least tend to your injury first, but you doubt that she would listen. 
“Tash–” You start and she moves to start kissing at your neck because of the interruption, “Tasha, please, let’s go home first. I’m filthy, don’t you want to clean up first?” 
She groans as she pulls away from your neck, taking the time to examine you properly. Her heart skips and she growls, the sight of you like this excites her, even if you’re covered in dirt and blood. “No, you want to go home and clean up first, but I don’t remember asking.” And that’s all you get before she’s back to kissing and biting at your neck. 
One of her hands moves down to toy with the waistband of your panties as the other gropes at your chest. You let your head fall back against the tree and you wish you could focus more on Natasha, she always makes you feel so good and it’s not like you’ve never let her fuck you while injured before, but your leg is throbbing and the whimper that falls from your lips is more from pain than pleasure.
You push at her shoulder weakly and the look she gives you when you make her pull away for the second time is deadly. But you know she cares, you know she does, you just have to hit the right spot when you speak next and so you go for a weak point, “I–It hurts a lot, Daddy, please. I’ll be good and we can do whatever you want, just please can we go home first?”
Her expression softens a fraction and you know you’ve won. Natasha may be unpredictable, but there is always one thing that stays the same: her need to protect you.
“...Fine.” You’re surprised she’s not actually pouting as she grabs your bra and shoves it partially into her back pocket before standing up. She cracks her knuckles before leaning down and picking you up bridal style, making sure your injured leg is the one furthest away from her body. “I think we still have those pink bandages you liked so much.”
Yes, you were definitely forgiven.
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natashaslittlegirl · 8 months
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One step forward and three steps back
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natashaslittlegirl · 9 months
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What’s your Wattpad @? 💓
DaddyAlycia <3
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natashaslittlegirl · 11 months
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@pscentral event 14: your url: wandasmaximofffs You break the rules and become the hero. I do it and I become the enemy. That doesn’t seem fair. (i/n/s/p)
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natashaslittlegirl · 11 months
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Mommy!Wanda x Sub!Reader Headcanons
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NSFW ! minors dni ! +18
Wanda loves you before all the things in the world
and loves to ruin you
Dom with a thing for humiliation, degradation and dumbification
"You're just a pathetic little girl, so dumb can't even think properly"
She loves to edge you as punishment, such as spanking
Spanking in any part of your body. Cheeks, inner thighs, your pussy.
She could edge you all night if it were for her, it doesn't matter how much you beg
"You need to cum? Oh don't be silly, little girl, no you don't. You want to cum, but you need to listen to me."
She makes you strap warning her while you study, or just when she pleases it.
And you can't move, not even a inch.
The first time you called her 'Mommy' it scaped from your mouth while she was eating you out. It just happened, and when you realized, Wanda was already on top of you.
"How did you just called me, baby? Come on, tell me" she stopped everything until you said it with your voice shaking "Mhm, I'm your Mommy, now be a good girl and cum on Mommy's tongue"
She loves praising you, only when you do the things she like.
"You're Mommy's good girl" "That's my baby, so good for me" "You're making Mommy proud"
Somnophilia. She loves when you're sleeping, so adorable and cute all for her to play with.
You woke up many times while Wanda was deep inside you with her strap, she made sure to enchanted it so she could feel your walls unconsciously clenching around it
And if you attempt to wake up she usually would whisper sweet things until you fall asleep again
"Shh, baby, Mommy just wants to play a little, go back to sleep."
Wanda loves marks. Bites, hickeys, bruises, red and sore skin, whatever, she loves to leave you all marked because of her.
she even made a heart-hickey on your right side, and not to miss the WM carved on your left.
Wanda was surprised when you asked her to use her magic on you, but that only turned her on more.
She can be very rough sometimes, mostly when she's got you squirming under her while she fucks you with her cum-filled strap on. Breeding kink.
Oh, and when she cums inside you and her milk is starting to leak of your little hole, she fucks it all again into you.
"I'm gonna fill you up so good, bunny, fuck, you're gonna carry all my babies, aren't you? belly round full of me."
She also has a thing on tie you up.
and tie vibrators against your abused pussy
She just can't help it. You look so pretty all tied up, so helpless while she takes you in every way possible.
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natashaslittlegirl · 11 months
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The things I'd do for her...
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natashaslittlegirl · 11 months
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i couldn't help it, i am reading RA in wattpad and OH MY GOD???? WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME??? i can't decide what i want to happen more 😭😭
i love the tension and softness with wanda, BUT ALSO i loooove natasha being jealous,, and then the apology-dinner??? so cute
and may i say: what do you think it would be nat's reaction if reader called her mommy instead of miss romanoff during sex? (on accident, of courseđŸ«ŁđŸ€­)
i really like your fic, kisses đŸ˜»đŸ’–đŸ’–
I know right? the apology-dinner was so sweet of her, i would melttttt
I think Natasha would literally snap, like she didn't know that she would love being called that, she would just fuck you mercilessly keeping you saying "mommy mommy mommy"
Thank u sweets<33333
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natashaslittlegirl · 11 months
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Masterlist Second Account Series About me
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natashaslittlegirl · 11 months
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About me
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âŠč I'm G
âŠč 20y/o
âŠč Lesbian and single now đŸ€Ą
âŠč You can always come and talk to me about whatever you want
âŠč This account is only for women and gays, +18 content, MINORS AND MEN DNI
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natashaslittlegirl · 11 months
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Professor - WandaNat
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DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORK. MINORS DNI +18 ONLY.
Summary: Wanda knew that she failed her last exam, she showed up without having studied, what she also knew, is that her favorite professor is disappointed, so she has to make it up to her.
Professor!Natasha Romanoff x Student!Wanda Maximoff
Smut, top!Natasha, bottom!Wanda, teasing, masturbation (W), vaginal fingering (W receiving), praise and degrading kink, choking (N to W), dirty talk, overstimulation, orgasm control, hair pulling, spanking (W receiving(just one))
Words count: 2300+
Wattpad Masterlist WandaNat's Masterlist
.
Wanda had shown up to take her literature exam without having studied, not because she didn't want to, she was one of the best students in the entire university and Miss Romanoff's favorite. She just forgot, disappointing her favorite teacher, feeling bad about it.
Natasha, in addition to being stressed by having to do more than ten lectures a week, her perfect student was failing her.
The student who always present her essays and exams on time, the one who helped her carry her things to her office and with whom she had wet dreams almost every night. It was no surprise to Natasha that she liked Wanda, the girl was totally beautiful and perfectly her type. In addition to the fact that she sometimes showed herself with those slightly revealing outfits that left a lot to imagination.
And she was always looking for a way to stay after class, either with a question or just to tell her some fun fact, which she found very adorable.
She knew that Wanda liked her, her looks weren't discreet at all, she shamelessly undressed her in front of the whole class. One smirk at her and Wanda was already squeezing her thighs, and this could be seen clearly since she was sitting right in front of her desk. Every time she goes with her short little skirts, Natasha can't help but devour her with her gaze, discreetly while everyone do her lecture.
One day Wanda had stayed after class to clear up some doubts, sitting next to her at the desk, her bare thighs almost touching hers, and Natasha couldn't resist placing her hand on them, squeezing it and listening to the sweet moan that scape out of Wanda's mouth. After that, she knew she had to be with her one way or another, how could a mere sound from her leave her so frustrated? How could a twenty year old girl have her like that? She didn't know if it was because of the fact that Wanda was younger or the interest she showed, the attention she sought or the simple fact that her beauty incited her to sin.
Today, a Friday like any other, in the last class of the day, Literature 101 of Professor Romanoff, Wanda was perfectly seated in her chair in front of her desk.
In one of her short skirts, her thigh-high stockings, and a black shirt, she was beautiful and fucking hot.
Natasha's first thought was how good her student would look tied up and bending over on her desk. Not very appropriate of her, but that only stayed in a little place of her mind. It wasn't strange for the two of them to share those lustful glances, Wanda never thought that she could go beyond a simple flirt or a bit of tease. Miss Romanoff seemed untouchable, with all her authority and her tight suits, with her rasping voice and her serious look.
All this little game between the two was consuming them, there were countless times that Wanda had to go to her room practically running to touch herself thinking in her professor, or the number of times that she daydreamed in class wishing that Natasha could take her anywhere in the room.
"Afternoon everyone, let's begin in page 57, who wants to read?" Natasha started class promptly at six in the evening.
Carol Danvers raised her hand for Miss Romanoff to give her the word, then beginning to read a text by Alan Poe. Wanda boiled with jealousy every time Natasha gave her a smirk or preferred the blonde instead of her. She already knew that Carol wanted to be the teacher's pet, which irritated her even more. She fixed her eyes with frowning brows on her professor, who didn't spare her a glance, concentrating on what Carol was reading.
So she decided to fiddle with the buttons on her shirt, undoing one by one until she reached her breasts and that's when she got the attention she wanted. Natasha's gaze fell on her hands, as her fingers ran up and down the fabric, watching her teacher swallow and clear her throat.
Wanda also knew that Natasha must be angry with her, for failing her last test and taking into account the looks of her teacher towards her today, she thought about taking the next step. With her provocative outfit already planned and without wearing panties she was going to convince her.
The two hours of the lecture passed, ending the class, a class in which Natasha was left frustrated trying not to pay attention to her student.
Everyone was leaving while Wanda stayed sat in her chair, crossing her legs feeling how wet she already was. It was time to go home since all classes were over. Once the last student left, Wanda got up from her chair and walked over to her professor's desk.
"Miss Romanoff, can we talk?" she said innocently as Natasha turned, looking her up and down.
"Let's go to my office, Miss Maximoff." She speak to her in an angry and harsh tone, making Wanda shudder. She took her things and followed her to her office, her gaze glued to her body until Natasha sat down behind her desk. "What do you want, Miss Maximoff?" Natasha didn't want to look at her, she was angry.
"Talking about my exam but, are you not going to call me Wanda anymore?"
"It's the same, I call you by your last name."
"Yeah, but I like the way you say my name more," Wanda sat in the chair opposite, starting to play with the edge of her skirt, which had risen up exposing almost all her skin, "why are you angry, Natasha?"
"I'm not mad, I'm disappointed in you, how could you fail the exam, you're the best at everything" She let out a snarl, finally looking up to her eyes but quickly drifting to her thighs.
"Let me make it up to you." a smirk appeared on Wanda's face as she got up to lock the door.
"What are you doing, Wanda?" She walked slowly over to where Miss Romanoff was, sitting down at her desk putting her legs on each side of Natasha's chair.
"Tell me what you want and I'll do it." Natasha's eyes were dark and a thousand possibilities flashed through her mind.
"This is wrong." She growled, trying not to look at her student, who was spread-legged sitting in front of her.
"We both want it, I see how you look at me and you know the reaction you cause in me, Miss Romanoff, don't play dumb." Wanda's hand went to Natasha's chin, forcing her to look into her eyes, "you want it as much or more than me."
"Touch yourself." Natasha leaned back in her chair with a smirk on her face, watching as Wanda's hands began to unbutton her shirt, revealing that she was not wearing a bra.
She squeezed her breasts, her fingers pricking her already hard nipples, stealing a moan from her. Wanda was dripping on the desk, she was sure, Natasha's gaze was burning her. Without being asked, her hand went under until it was between her legs, lifting her skirt to revealing her that she wasn't wearing panties either.
"Such a slut you are, Wanda." The raspy voice of her teacher made her walls clenched to nothing, beginning to rub her already swollen and neglected clit, "Who knew, the perfect student would be such a little slut."
"Fuck." Wanda sighed, running her fingers over her folds, gathering her liquids to then inserting a finger into hers.
"Slower." Natasha was beginning to guide her, never taking her gaze from her dripping pussy, as her finger disappeared inside her so slowly that Wanda could cry from it.
"Please." A small blush appeared on her cheeks, she wanted to go faster, but she couldn't disobey Natasha. She couldn't disappointed her, again.
"No." Wanda let out a whimper, trying to keep up the same speed.
"I need more, please."
"Another one." Wanda quickly inserted another finger inside her, curling them, touching hers G spot. "Faster."
She began to speed up her movements, feeling the knot in her stomach under her, moans coming from her mouth as her fingers moved in and out of her.
"What a pretty sounds you make, let's see what others I can get out of that beautiful mouth of yours."
One of Natasha's hands went to her neck, grabbing it and squeezing it, ripping a strangled moan from Wanda's throat.
"I-I'm gonna cum" the grip on her neck tightened.
"No, you are not allowed to cum." Natasha stood up, staying between her legs to now whisper in her ear, "I'm the only one who's going to make you cum, understand?"
Wanda agreed without stopping moving her fingers inside her, until the hand that was on her neck went to her wrist, making her stop, taking it out to put the wet fingers in her mouth. Natasha licked her fingers clean, their dark eyes locked as Wanda was panting for air with her parted lips.
"Get down and bend over on the desk." She did as she was told, now she was with her stomach pressed against the wood table, her arms around her head and her legs slightly spread.
Natasha positioned herself behind her, pressing into her hips causing Wanda to push back. Her professor's hands lifted her skirt, leaving it coiled around her waist while one of Natasha's feet hit her legs to separate them from her.
"Such a dirty girl you are, coming to university without panties, do you think that's a good thing, Wanda?" She reminded silent, a hand slammed into her ass, "Answer me."
"Yes," she let out her answer with a sigh.
"Look how wet you are, pathetically dripping like a slut, does it turn you on? Does the fact that I'm about to fuck you turn you on?" Natasha put her index finger at her entrance, not thrusting it in or moving it.
"Yes, so much, you turn me on so much, please." Wanda couldn't handle so much arousal anymore, she needed her to touch her now.
"You don't deserve it, you fail your exam, you have an attitude towards me, you come without panties and on top of that you spent all your time teasing me in class."
"You want this more than me, Miss Romanoff, we both know it. I know you want to touch me until I can't handle it anymore." Natasha lets out a laugh, in fact, Wanda is right, she wants to fuck her until she doesn't have a drop of cum anymore.
"On top of that, do you have the nerve to talk back to me? Oh, little girl, you don't know what you're getting yourself into."
She was about to answer when two of her fingers entered her suddenly, stealing a dry moan from her throat.
"You make a noise and I'll stop." Natasha inserted her fingers hard, making the desk move and making it increasingly difficult for Wanda to hold back her moans.
She leaned over, laying on top of her student to grab her hair with her other hand, forming a ponytail to pull her up, Wanda tried not to make a sound, but it was impossible when Natasha curled her fingers inside her.
"Oh, looks like we'll stop here." She feint to remove her fingers.
"No, no! please, I'm so close, please!" Wanda literally cried out.
"Then beg for it, beg or I won't continue." Natasha's lips were glued to her neck, sucking on it without caring if she left marks or not.
"Please, Natasha, keep fucking me, do whatever you want to me!" Wanda was desperate, tears began to form in her eyes, trying to move her hips down against her teacher's hand.
"Such a needy slut, you're being pathetically desperate, Wanda," Natasha sucked on her earlobe to whisper in her husky voice, "and I fucking love it." She began to move her fingers again, grabbing her neck pressing her body with hers.
"Let me cum, Miss Romanoff, pl-" Natasha squeeze her neck, cutting of her words.
"Shut the fuck up." Wanda was about to pass out, the pressure in her lower stomach was becoming unbearable. Tears rolling on her face, her part lips panting for air and Natasha still thrusting in her was too much.
And then, she stopped. Her professor stopped.
"What the f-" Wanda was about to protest when Natasha pulled her fingers out to turn her around, sitting her on the desk and putting them back inside her. "Oh fuck fuck." She moaned at the sight of Natasha's lustful eyes looking at her.
"I want to look at you while you fall apart, so pretty." Natasha let her know that, she always told her that she was pretty, but this context was totally different.
"Please let me."
Natasha nodded, watching how Wanda tried to keep the eye contact but was impossible for her, shutting her eyes and leave out a loud scream, her professor's name was rolling out her mouth. Her body started to shake, the overstimulation taking her as Natasha keep thrusting her fingers in her.
The proud smirk on her face, like a child whose mischief turns out well, finally claiming her student's body.
Wanda was trying to recover, her chest raising and falling sharply. She opened her eyes to meet Natasha's intense gaze in her, her cheeks blushed and a light layer of sweat on her forehead.
"That was.." she said giggling.
"Yeah," Natasha took out her fingers to lick them, tasting her again. "you taste so good, I can't wait to eat you properly."
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natashaslittlegirl · 11 months
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bump, set, spike àż wm
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summary: in which your new volleyball coach has a thing for degrading you.
words: 4.7K
warnings: volleyball coach!wanda, f!reader, degradation, I MEAN DEGRADATION, mommy kink, I SAID MOMMY KINK, slight dubcon/non-con, use of cumstrap, breeding kink, authority kink, yes i was a volleyball girl
this post is for 18+ only. minors: dni.
masterlist.
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“I heard she’s a total hardass,” your teammate huffed as she bumped the volleyball to herself, staggering around to keep her balance as she bumped it into the air and down, then back up again.
The coach of your volleyball team had left in quite a hurry, leaving your college team without a proper coach for weeks on end. Finally, the university acquired one of the best coaches in the state, and this was your first scheduled practice with the coach whom you had no idea about except for the floating rumors that players were constantly passing out from her hard practices.
The wooden floor squeaked under your tennis shoes as you walked to the side of the gym, volleyball under your arm, to grab your water bottle and drink from it. Your teammates were casually bumping to each other, some lying around on the floor talking to each other as you waited for the new coach to arrive. It wasn’t customary for a coach to be so late to their first practice—your teammates had already set up the net in preparation. You sighed and sat down on the floor to relace your shoes.
Finally, the gym doors squealed open, and, as you sat on the floor with your shoelaces in hand, you glanced over to see your new coach walking in. She was wearing knee-length black tights and a fitted t-shirt that left no room for the imagination. Her brownish blonde hair was short and pinned halfway up, the curl of bangs resting over her brows that were arched in curiosity as she glanced over the room of girls, already analyzing and sorting out her new team at her hands.
“Good morning,” she called confidently, her dark green eyes flickering between the stunned faces of your teammates. She was a young woman, in her late twenties or early thirties, her body fit under her tight clothing and her face beautiful but stern. She seemed to suck up all the air in the large gym, everyone going suddenly silent.
Your fingers fumbled with your laces when her eyes finally landed on you. She stopped walking halfway down the length of the net to stare at you, her eyes boring into you like two sharp arrows. You felt your face getting hot under her viridescent stare, finding her rather formidable even with her obvious beauty.
“Why are you on the floor?” she asked evenly, her tone a sense of eerie calm.
You glanced down to your shoes then back up at her. “Tying my shoes.”
Her dark lips twitched into a half-smile. “What’s your name?”
Your heart started to unreasonably pound in your chest. “Y/n.”
She nodded instantly, as if she didn’t even listen to what you told her your name was, but it surprised you when she repeated it meticulously, “Y/n, are you a starter?”
There were some whispers from the other girls. Of course you were a starter. You were the team’s best hitter, earning them three-fourths of their offensive points every game. You only dumbly nodded, finding that your voice was incapable of escaping your throat.
The new coach hummed, nodding politely before the smile on her face faded. “If you spend one more second wasting practicing by lying around, you will not be a starter anymore.” Her words only had a millisecond to dumbfound you before she snapped, “Get up!”
Your body obeyed her clipped command instantaneously, jumping up to your feet and standing upright like you were in the military. You were thankful that you had just finished tying your laces. She only stared at you for a moment longer, turning slowly before she looked to the rest of the team who also were now all on their feet. “I’m Wanda Maximoff. You will call me Coach Maximoff.” Her hand grazed the net as she walked along it. “I was a little stunned at your statistics when they asked me to step in as coach. You guys hardly win a game.”
She turned around again, eyes dancing on you from across the room before they slipped away. Why were you sweaty all of a sudden?
“I can change that. If you give me respect, diligence, and consistency, I can help you guys out.” She paused, coming to a stop and placing her hands behind her back. “If you don’t, you will run suicides until the first person passes out.”
Some girls in the back giggled—the rumors were true, apparently.
Coach Maximoff smiled tightly, and then she asked for everyone to say their name and their position on the team, and whether they were a starter or not.
That practice was one of the toughest ones you’d ever had. She introduced advanced drills that none of you had ever done before, and every time someone messed up too badly, everyone had to run in a line around the gym for five minutes. Practices were usually only a couple hours long, but this one lasted until well into the afternoon.
You noticed that every time you glanced at Coach Maximoff, she was already looking at you. You must have pissed her off or something, because she called you up first for all the drills to “show them how it’s done,” only to reprimand and correct every single thing you do.
“Alright,” she began after she blew her whistle, looking at your team of sweating, panting, red-faced players from the other side of the net. She swooped under the net easily, looking at the lot of you. “Since you ladies are playing like junior varsity players, we’re going to do a simple practice that surely you can understand.” She took a ball from the stand beside her and held it up. “Bump, set, spike. I want you to get in a line, and I will serve the ball. The first person will bump it back to me. I will set it. The next person will spike it, and so forth. Got it?” There was only a pause of nodding and humming before she suddenly pointed to you. “Y/n. Up first.”
Why was she calling you first for every single drill? It was starting to aggravate you, especially since you were so tired and worn out from all the running and the tough drills. You bit back a groan and went to the first of the forming line, lowering down into receiving position.
Coach Maximoff smirked a little as she watched you lower down, raising the ball up into the air. You took a deep breath—your previous coach was always a soft server, but you didn’t know how Coach Maximoff was yet. Eyes pinned to you, smirk still set on her features, she tossed the ball up with one hand and quickly slapped her other hand over it, sending the ball spiraling quickly at you with a loud slapping sound that echoed in the gym.
It was so fast that you didn’t even see it before it hit you right in the knee and bounced away. There were some whispers from the girls behind you as your face turned red in embarrassment, and it only worsened when you looked up to the coach to see that she was staring at you with an expression of irritation.
“Why didn’t you get it?” she snapped coldly.
You blinked, rubbing your sweaty palms on your knee pads. “I—I don’t know, it came too fast. I wasn’t ready.”
“Wasn’t ready?” she echoed with a huff, amusement on her face. “Well get ready.” She grabbed another ball and you lowered again, hands spread in front of you, ready to receive. She tossed the ball up and hit it harder again, the sound slapping even louder than the last time. You expected it to be a low serve that you had to dig for like the first time, but this time it hurtled straight to your face. Normally, you would know to receive it with a set instead of a bump, but your hands fumbled and just went straight in front of your face, blocking yourself from the ball that slapped your hands and bounced to the floor limply.
Coach Maximoff rubbed her face over her hands and sighed in aggravation. “That’s it. Run.”
You stood there like an idiot, feeling fiery with shame. “Run?”
“Run!” she yelled, throwing her finger around the gym. “Run until I tell you to stop if you want to keep being a starter!” Her voice was like that of a snarl, low and vicious. Heart already pounding, you set off in a stumbly jog, running a lap along the wall of the gym.
Coach Maximoff continued the drill with the other girls, and you went green with jealousy at how easily they were receiving her serves and spikes, so seamlessly and perfectly. She even praised them, and something in your chest tugged.
You thought maybe after a couple laps, she would drag you back to the front of the line to redo the drill, but she never did. You ran for an uncounted amount of time, to the point where your legs were shaking and you were sweating through your shirt and finding it hard to breathe. Finally, she ended the drill and turned to see you jogging exhaustedly across the gym. “That’s enough!” she called, and you instantly fell to your knees, thankful that you had your kneepads on as they hit the floor hard. You bent over, gasping and wheezing loudly, wiping the abundance of sweat from your forehead.
With a blow of her whistle, she dismissed the practice, and you limped over across the gym to collect your things and get the hell out of there. “Practice tomorrow afternoon!” Coach Maximoff called to the team as other girls were already hurrying out the door, prepared to pass out or puke or both. You fell to the floor with a huff and began tugging off your shoes, feeling blisters forming around your feet.
Maximoff walked over to you as the other girls were leaving, and you looked up, seeing that she was standing close to you, towering over you. “I want you stay tomorrow night after practice. I think what you need is some one-on-one coaching.”
Dread filled you. Not only did you already have plans with friends tomorrow night, but you did not want to be around this villainous coach any more than you had to. She obviously had it out for you, and the embarrassment in front of your teammates was enough—you could only imagine how much she would belittle you alone. “Sorry,” you mumbled, still out of breath. “I have plans tomorrow night.”
Wanda’s lips pursed, her nostrils flaring as she breathed in slowly. Placing her hands on her knees, she crouched down in front of you incredibly close, her face only inches from yours. You froze, glancing around to see that everyone else had already left.
“It seems to me that you don’t care one bit about this sport or this team,” she said quietly, her voice rasping in a way that made your ears burn. You could see every shade of green in her eyes from this close, the curve and suppleness of her lips. “If you want to keep your position, you will see me tomorrow night after practice. If you don’t, I will have no choice but to reconsider your role on this team.”
Your eyes widened—was she threatening to kick you off the team?
Her hand reached out suddenly, placing itself on the middle of your thigh. You glanced down, seeing her long, nimble fingertips pressing into your skin. “And make sure you stretch before coming tomorrow. I need you to be flexible.”
A smirk curled at her lips, leaving you dumbfounded with an even redder face. She stood up and walked away, leaving you on the floor.
The hours leading up to the next day’s practice were unbearable. You were nervous about being alone with her, worried you would not meet her expectations and get yourself kicked off the team, but you also could not stop thinking about her hand on your thigh and the words she had said to you in such a low, raspy voice with that damning smirk on her lips. It was etched into your mind like a fire.
The practice went the same as the day before. She called you up first for every drill, which you failed miserably at. Why were you messing up so much around her? Of course, you were nervous, everyone was intimated by her, but no one else was messing up as much as you were. Your knees felt wobbly the whole time, your hands sweaty, your mind too distracted by the way she looked at you, and the way she moved, and her words still circling in your mind like a cyclone.
Practice was finally over, but that didn’t help your nerves one bit, because now you were going to be alone with her. While everyone else flooded out of the gym, some crying because Wanda made them run so many laps around the gym, you stayed sitting on the floor off to the side, rubbing your ankles that were blistered and nearly bleeding.
You watched Coach Maximoff go across the gym and pick up stray volleyballs that didn’t get picked up. She was wearing a pair of thick black sweatpants today and a tiny red shirt that showed her midsection every time she lifted her arm to serve the ball. She was so beautiful and confident, albeit mean, that you couldn’t help but wonder what she was like outside of being a coach, if she was actually a kind, gentle person who had hobbies like reading or art. Part of you thought maybe she ate the hearts of the innocent in her free time with how monstrous and unrelentingly cruel she was in the gym.
When she’d replaced all the balls back to the standing bag, she looked over at you expectantly. Her face lowered, eyes shadowing under the overhead gym lights, and she lifted a finger and curled it towards her.
You found yourself standing up to walk towards her, limping a little from the blisters on your ankles. When you came to a stop, her eyes flickered up and down your body, landing around your hips. “Do you usually wear shorts that short to practice?”
Glancing down, you looked at your tiny spandex shorts and shrugged. “Um, yeah, I guess.”
“Those are a little revealing, don’t you think?” she murmured, boldly reaching her hand out and running her fingertips under the hem of the tight shorts, tugging on the fabric and then letting it snap against your thigh, making you jump. She smirked and tilted her head, stepping closer to you. “And this shirt
” Her hand took the hem of your tight long-sleeved shirt and tugged at it. “Take it off.”
Heat swelled in your face as you blinked, making sure you heard her right. “What?”
“You’ll get too sweaty in that. You’re wearing a bra, right?” Her tongue peeked out of her mouth and ran across her lower lip. “It’s just us two in here. You can take it off so you won’t get too hot.”
Feeling somehow breathless, you looked down at your shirt and reluctantly took the hem. You had been just fine wearing it all during practice, and most of the girls wore long-sleeved shirts to help protect their arms from so much bumping. You wanted to say that, but her smirk turned into a stone gaze.
“I’m your Coach, y/n. There needs to be a level of trust between us—and respect. That means—” She leaned closer and whispered, “You do what I say.”
Gulping, you only nodded, taking the hem of your shirt in your hands and slowly peeling it over your head, leaving you only in your sports bra and shorts. She bit her lip and let her eyes run down your figure as she finally stepped away. “Good girl.”
Your face grew immeasurably hot. Wanda walked to the standing bag and took out a volleyball, holding it on her hip and pointing to a few feet in front of her. “Come here. We’re going to do bump, set, spike, until you get it.”
You wanted to tell her that was such a simple drill and that normally you would have no problem doing it but found it hard to keep your composure around her, but you didn’t. Instead, you let your voice die in your throat and walked to the spot on the floor, turning to face her.
“Get in position,” she commanded, so you did, bending your knees and spreading your hands. Without warning, she quickly tossed the ball up and spiked it towards you, sending it slapping across your thighs.
“Ow!” you instinctively exclaimed, clapping your hand over the red spot forming on your thigh, but Wanda was already getting another ball and served it to you twice as quick, and this time you had to jump out of the way before it smacked you in the face. “Jesus!”
Wanda gave a mixture between a sigh and a huff as she rubbed her hand over her forehead. Your face burned in shame as she stared at you, trying to think of what to do with you. Finally, she clicked her tongue and said, “You do not know how to receive a serve at all, do you?”
Feeling frustrated, you threw your hands up in the air. “I’m a hitter, not a libero!”
The coach ran her tongue over her teeth and stared at you for a moment. “Fine, since you somehow made it into college volleyball without knowing how to receive, I guess I’ll be the one to teach you.” She started towards you. “Get down into what you think a receiving position is.”
Huffing, you lowered down in the same way you had. Wanda neared you, eyes flickering over your body as she started walking a slow circle around you. You could feel her standing behind you, your heart starting to race.
Suddenly, her foot came and kicked at your ankle, forcing your legs to open wider. You gasped, nearly tripping, until you found you were lowered down even farther with your legs spread wider. “Keep ‘em open,” she murmured behind you, and you didn’t realize how close she had been standing behind you until you heard her lips right behind your ear.
Trying to remember how to breathe, you felt her hands come to rest at your elbows, adjusting your arms to a different position. “You want to keep them closer together,” she whispered, her breath moving strands of your hair. Her hands, once finished moving your arms, slowly slid up them and to your shoulders, tracing down your back. She pressed in at the middle of your back, causing it to arch into a curve. “Your hips
” she trailed, and you felt her hands leave you. It made you feel cold without her touch.
“W-What about them?” you asked in nearly a whisper, feeling like the large gym was suddenly half the size it usually felt like.
“You need to bring them back more,” she said in a husky tone, and then her hands were on your hips, squeezing the bones there before she jerked them backwards. You gasped when your ass pressed right against her crotch, and from the force of it you could tell she had bucked her hips towards you. You were about to start apologizing, but her hands held your hips still.
Then, when she moved her hips a little to get closer to you, you felt it—something hard and large tucked inside her sweatpants, bulging out right against your ass. Sharply, you stood straight, feeling your back hit her chest as you did. Her hands kept hold of your hips, digging herself into your ass and letting out a throaty moan that brought chills up your spine.
“Coach?” you whispered, panting as you felt yourself throbbing within. You could feel her breath on the back of your neck, her lips grazing your spinal cord as she pushed herself closer to you, grinding her hips into the swells of your behind.
“I don’t think you know how to respect your coach,” she husked into your ear, her lips pressing against the skin there. One of her hands left your hip to swerve around your tummy, diving up towards your chest. “Or how to obey.” Her hand grabbed at your breast from over your bra, bringing a sharp gasp of surprise from your throat.
You knew that it was incredibly wrong, letting her touch on you and press against you like that, but the rasp in her voice and the domineer in her hands was turning you on so much that you felt like you were rapidly growing a fever.
Her hand left your chest and dove straight down into your shorts, reaching past your thin pair of panties to grope at you between your legs. Your lips fell open, head falling back against her shoulder as her svelte fingers started to grab at your clit. She smelled like perfume and the rubber scent of volleyball material, her lips pressing against the corner of your jaw before biting there.
“Coach, please,” you groaned as her fingers started to rub hard at your clit, her cock pressing harder against your ass all the while.
“You can call me Mommy,” she whispered into your ear before biting it, inciting a moan from you. “You’re pathetic. All wet and needy for me.” She pulled her hand out of your shorts to show that her fingers were glistening under the gym lights. Reaching up to grab a fistful of your hair, she yanked your head back so that your lips opened, and she dove her fingers inside your mouth. “Suck,” she demanded in a harsh whisper against your ear, so you did, sucking your own juices off her fingers as your face turned bright red, tasting your own arousal and the hint of salty sweat on her fingers.
When her fingers were all clean, she pulled them out and growled before she used her hand in your hair to push you forward so hard that you crumpled to the ground, your kneepads hitting the hard wood as she followed you down, kneeling between your legs.
“You want to be a starter, huh, little whore?” Wanda asked from behind you as her hands started grabbing at your shorts.
Dizzy from the fall and from the neediness throbbing within you, you let out a small, “Uh huh, Mommy.”
“Fuck,” Wanda hissed when you called her that, yanking down your shorts to expose your bare ass and pussy. “Then you will take all of Mommy’s cock so she will let you be a starter, won’t you?”
“Yes,” you moaned, the wooden floor cold against your face. “Yes, Mommy.”
“What a fucking slut,” Wanda murmured as she yanked her sweatpants down a little so she could take out her strap. You couldn’t see it, but you knew it was big when she started to rub the tip up and down your wet folds. “Listen to that, slut.” You could hear the wet sounds that your folds made when her strap parted them. “I didn’t make you out to be such a dirty whore.”
Keeping one hand in your hair, pushing your face onto the floor, she thrust her cock into you all at once, your walls opening for her as she slid through them.
You cried out at her size, grabbing helplessly at the floor as she pulled out before snapping her hips back into you, shoving herself hard inside you. It was so rough, and you felt so dirty lying on the floor as your coach took your pussy from behind, but you loved it, finding yourself lost in a whirlwind of primal pleasure as her grunts and your moans echoed in the loud gym.
“What would someone say if they walked in right now,” Wanda said between her thrusts, and you heard the sound of skin slapping together, “if they saw you lying on the floor getting fucked by your coach like this?” You could tell that she loved the position of power she had over you, both technically and physically. “Offering up your pussy to me so that you’ll be my favorite.” She tugged at your hair, lifting your upper body off the floor and hissing against your ear. “Do you think they’d call you a slut?”
Shame filled you just like it did when she had first seen you and scolded you for sitting on the floor. You could only give a string of unintelligible noises, so she yanked your hair harder, demanding you to speak. “Yes,” you finally gasped. “Yes, they would, Mommy.”
Wanda laughed at how pathetic you were, pushing your face back into the floor. Moving her hand to your ass, she grabbed at your flesh there, letting out an unashamed moan as she thrust her hips harder into you. You could feel your own juices sliding down your inner thighs, your eyes squeezing shut as her strap went deeper and deeper inside you, causing your legs to tremble.
“Fuck, I knew you’d have good pussy,” Wanda breathed, and her words were spinning a coil of pressure in the pit of your tummy, her own voice starting to falter as her thrusts grew wild and unrhythmic. “I wanted to throw you down and put my cock in you when I first saw you yesterday.”
Her words were making you burn so hot you thought you would melt right through the floor.
“You’ll make such a good fleshlight for Mommy—fuck—letting me bend you over just like this everyday after practice, won’t you?”
“Uh huh,” you squealed, mouth falling open as you felt an orgasm impeding upon you.
“That’s right, you will. If you want to be a starter, you have to be Mommy’s fucktoy first—ah!” She hissed, her hips snapping into you harder and sloppier. “Fuck, you gonna take Mommy’s cum?”
You let out a gasp when she hinted that it was a cumstrap she was wearing, and you knew that you were moments away from cumming helplessly all over her strap. “Yes, yes, Mommy,” you whined, feeling her hand tighten its grip in your hair.
Wanda reached down to grab the base of the strap right as her climax reached her, growling loudly and grabbing hard at any spot on you she could grab, squeezing the base and letting her cum squirt deep inside you, painting your inner walls and filling you up so that you came instantly, moaning and bucking your hips backwards against her.
Wanda sighed, grinding her strap slowly inside you as you rode out your own climax, watching some of her cum drip out of you each time she pulled her strap out a little. Grinning, she pulled out and stood, grabbing your shoulder and turning you over on your back. You looked up at her in a daze, legs still trembling as you panted.
“Open up,” she said with a wide grin as she kneeled over your face, her strap glistening with a mixture of juices that dripped from the end and splattered across your chin. Desperately wanting to obey her, you opened your mouth, and she lowered her hips, shoving her cock deep into your mouth. You choked at first, letting out a quiet gagging sound that she laughed at until you caught control of yourself and started dutifully sucking her clean. She looked down at you with her lip caught between her teeth, humming in appreciation at how cute you looked with her strap in her mouth.
Once it was clean, she pulled out of your mouth with a popping sound and pushed her strap back into her thick black sweatpants that easily concealed it. You were burning up and shaking, inebriated with all the degradation she’d poured upon you, feeling your pussy full of her cum that was slowly dripping out of you.
“Good girl,” she whispered as she stared down at you, reaching out and wiping the liquids away from your chin. “Same time tomorrow? Don’t wear underwear this time.”
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natashaslittlegirl · 11 months
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natashaslittlegirl · 11 months
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excuse me,, may i share some thoughts on the RA fic? i just love it so much and i can't wait for the next chapter 💖💖
also, flirty fwb kate x r....and jealous natty.....i...💭💭💭
Hii non, of course! I'm open to any opinion and I'd love to hear them<3
there's a loooot of flirty Kate and jealous Nat, just wait for Wanda ;)
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natashaslittlegirl · 11 months
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Romanoff's Assistant - Intoxicating
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DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORK. MINORS DNI +18 ONLY.
Summary: you discovered Miss Maximoff's interest in you.
Boss ! Natasha Romanoff x Assistant ! Reader
Warnings: none
Natasha Romanoff's Masterlist RA Masterlist RA account Chapter IV aesthetic
Saturdays are quiet days at the office, or so it seems on your first Saturday at work. Miss Romanoff left the list of investors on your desk so you could start schedule the meetings for next week. Reviewing the names you find Wanda Maximoff, apparently your technique worked. You hope Miss Romanoff is happy. Wanda was one of those who donated and invested the most.
You walk over to Natasha's office, knocking twice to get in, waiting patiently as you hear her talking on the phone and hear her say something about you.
"You're not going out with my assistant, you're going to work with her too," who would want to go out with you? "No, I already told you no, I have to go, she is waiting at the door." and with that you hear a 'come in' to pass.
"Miss Romanoff, I'm sorry to interrupt you," you walk into her office closing the door behind you and walking over to her desk. "I wanted to know if I have to cancel all your appointments for next week to schedule the meetings with investors or do I try to accommodate both things in the agenda?"
"Don't worry, I was just talking to Wanda," so Miss Maximoff is the person who wants to go out with you, interesting "try to schedule both things on the agenda, if you see that it's too much you can pass some meetings of the investors who have less invested for the other week, understood?"
"Yes, Miss Romanoff. Miss Maximoff is the person who invested the most here, do you prefer that I call her for the first meeting?"
"Yes, and thank you."
"Thank you for what, Miss Romanoff?
"Because you convinced her, Wanda is a very difficult person to convince, I tried everything and you convinced her in one night, I see that you did your job perfectly."
"Thank you, Miss Romanoff. Do you need anything else?"
"Yes, I need more coffee please." she says holding the bridge of her nose.
"I'll be right back, Miss Romanoff."
You turn to walk out the door but every step you take you can feel Miss Romanoff's intense gaze behind you, it only stops once you close the door, you sigh and go to your wallet to take the company's card. You arrive at the cafeteria where Kate has your coffees ready. You sent her a message while you were in the elevator, advantages of being friends with a barista.
"Hello again, my beautiful barista."YouI greet her and she winks at you.
"Hello, my favorite customer, coffee again?" She passes you the drnks and you pass her the card.
"Yes, I have so much to tell you, when I get off work at noon I'll come so we can have lunch together."
"Okay, I'll wait for you to tell me all the gossip." she laughed and you walked back to the building. Once on the 27th floor, you hand Miss Romanoff her coffee and head back to your desk. You start moving her patients appointments as you also call investors, save the best for last, Miss Maximoff. You dial the number on the phone and wait for her to answer.
"Yes?" she says from the other side of the line with her angelic voice.
"Miss Maximoff? This is Y/N Y/L/N from Romanoff's company."
"Oh! Y/N dear, yes, what do you need?"
"We should set up day and hour for next week for a meeting with Miss Romanoff, if that's okay with you, or we can do it when you want." You hear a giggle.
"Can it be Monday at 2pm?"
"Of course, Miss Maximoff."
"Perfect, see you Monday, darling." you can't with that nickname.
"See you later, Miss Maximoff." You hang up the phone and write down the meeting in the agenda, you go back to Natasha's office to inform her how her next week turned out.
"Monday 2pm meeting with Miss Maximoff, Tuesday 5pm with Mr Banner and Miss Walters, Wednesday 10am with Mr Danvers and Thursday 4pm with Miss Larson. That would be it, Miss Romanoff." you leave the foil with everything written down on top of her desk for her to grab it.
"Thanks Y/N, everything is very well organized. I need you to prepare five folders with all the company information and the actions that are left for each of the meetings and one for us, is that clear?" She puts down the foil again and stares at you up and down, stopping her gaze on your legs, which are crossed and exposed, since today you are wearing a pencil skirt.
You clear my throat. "Yes, Miss Romanoff." you get up from the chair and head towards your office.
The rest of the morning passes quietly and suddenly it's time to go. You grab your stuff and head out to the cafe again. When Kate sees you arrive she tells you to wait for the last customers to leave so she can close the shop. Once closed, you both go out and go to the same Italian restaurant the other day, they have delicious food. You sit at that table by the window and as you wait for our food you start to tell Kate everything, from James dropping you off at the event to him dropping you off at your apartment again.
"Oh my god, Y/N, you were lucky that other people didn't recognize you, well didn't try to talk to you at least."
"yeah, that was the only thing I could think!"
"So, Miss Maximoff, huh? What happened to your crush on Natasha?"
"Natasha will never notice me." It wasn't something that worried you either, you was there to work, not to find a partner. Or that's what you tried to convince yourself to.
The waiter interrupts your conversation to bring the dishes, you ordered a chicken with mushroom sauce and puree, Kate ordered a vegetarian lasagna and white wine for both of you.
"Also, today I heard Miss Romanoff talking on the phone, she said 'you're not going out with my assistant, you're going to work with her too' and then she excused herself saying that I was waiting for her at the door and she hang up."
"And what does that have to do with Maximoff?" she said as she popped a piece of food into her mouth.
"Wait, that's where I'm going! It was Wanda who was talking to Miss Romanoff on the phone." Kate was taking a sip of her wine when you told her this and she spit it all out. "Kate! You're making us embarrassed"
"Sorry, I just didn't expect that, Y/N/N. Oh my god you have to use this to your advantage and I'm going to help you."
"And what could I get out of this?" You continue eating while Kate explains to you that you can use Wanda's interest in you to bring out Natasha's interest in you as well. "Kate, you're crazy, Natasha has no interest in me, I already told you!"
"She does, and she showed it when she saw you talking to that waitress, what was her name, Kira?"
"Kara, and no, Natasha showed nothing but anger at me being distracted instead of doing my job."
"Say what you want, but she was jealous and I'll prove my point to you if you do exactly what I say."
"Yeah, whatever, let's keep eating."
You two talked about random topics until you finished your meals, you said goodbye to Kate and went straight to your apartment. You lay down for a while with Lena and accidentally fell asleep. You woke up from hear the ringtone on your phone, who would call you on a Saturday at 8pm? how much did you sleep? You grab your phone seeing the person responsible for waking you up, Natasha, what?
"Yes, Miss Romanoff?" You say with a raspy voice from just getting up and hear a groan from her.
"I need you in the office, now."
"I'm coming, Miss Romanoff." what the hell does she want?
Natasha's pov
On Saturdays I always work after everyone leaves, doing paperwork, reviewing my patient's cases, the boring stuff.
This morning I was talking to Wanda on the phone, we've known each other since we went to college, she was my roommate during those years and some casual sex on those long nights of study.
We both graduated with honors, we formed our companies and continue with our friendship, in these years I wanted Wanda to associate with me so that the two companies grow to the maximum of it, but she never accepted.
I know her tastes, we have exactly the same in almost everything, clothes, decisions, cars and especially women. That's why I knew that Y/N could convince her, and she did. But now I have a little problem, and that is that Wanda wants to go out with her, she can't and I won't allow it either. I remember our call earlier today when he asked for your phone number.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of your call, my dearest friend?"
"Hello, my dear, I need you to do me a favor, please."
"What do you need, Wanda?"
"Could you give me Y/N's phone number?"
"This is a joke? You know I don't like jokes." I roll my eyes up.
"It's not a joke, honey, I really want her phone number to ask her out."
"You want to go out with her? You talked to her, like, twenty minutes."
"So? She intrigues me,  you know my taste, that's why you sent her to convince me and she did."
"Nope."
"Why?" she said panting.
"Because I say so," I take a deep breath and see Y/N knock on the door to enter "You're not going out with my assistant, you're going to work with her too."
"You want her for yourself, don't you? Come on Natasha, give me her number, please."
"No, I already told you no, I have to go, she is waiting at the door."
"Tell her I said 'hi'." I hang up and roll my eyes again. She doesn't take no for an answer.
Anyways, I continue with my paperwork, thinking about Wanda and Y/N irritates me, same as when I saw her talking to that waitress.
It's already 8pm and I've been looking for the folders I asked Y/N to make for the meetings for over an hour, but I can't find them. I decide to call her to ask where she left them.
"Yes, Miss Romanoff?" She answers my call with a raspy voice and I can only let out a groan.
"I need you in the office, now." I don't know where that came from.
"I'm coming now, Miss Romanoff."
A few minutes go by and I regret it but it's already late, Y/N must be coming by now. Why did I say that? I need to think more before I speak. The building is closed, and I have to go down to open it for her, so I take the key and go to the elevator. Once at the door, I see her walking in the same clothes as today, that skirt suits her so well.
She enters the building and we head towards the 27th floor, the air becomes heavy, thinking about Wanda and her, I let out a groan and Y/N asks if I'm okay, I don't answer and just wait for us to get to the office .
"What do you need me for, Miss Romanoff?" if she only knew what she does to me when she calls me that.
"Where did you leave the folders for the meetings, I spent more than two hours looking for them." I say dryly.
"Oh, excuse me, Miss Romanoff, they're on my desk, do you want me to bring them to you?"
"Yes, now."
She rushes out of my office and I watch as she bends down to look for the folders, oh god. She comes back with the five folders in her arms and leaves them in a pile on my desk.
"Sit," she sits down and crosses her legs, I can't help but look at them "I'm going to go over them, to see if you need to correct anything." I sit down too and grab the first folder.
"Yes, Miss Romanoff, do you need me to get you something, coffee, water, something to eat?" she asks attentively, to which I just shake my head.
"No thanks."
She nods and I keep going page by page, everything is detailed to perfection, I'm still irritated at the thought of my best friend wanting to invite her out.
"Come here, Y/N" I look up and chatch her staring at me, I see how she gets up from her chair to position herself next to me "I think I haven't told you, but if you're going to do your job I want it perfect" she nodded at me "see, this?" I point to the page and she leans in a little to get a better look. 
"Come closer" but the one with the best view is me, seeing her red lace bra through the undone buttons of her shirt.
"Yes, Miss Romanoff, do you want me to rewrite it?" she turns her head towards me and sees me looking at her cleavage, I pretend that nothing is happening and I look back at her eyes, I see how she blushes.
"You'll do it here so I can correct you if you're wrong again, understood?"
"Yes, Miss Romanoff." she take the folder in her hands and goes back to the chair in front of me, I hand her a blank paper and a pen so she can write it all again.  It takes half an hour to redo the entire page. She finishes writing and hands it to me to look at it, slooking at me expectantly while I read determinedly, it's perfect.
"Get up and come here," she does what I say and stands next to me again, I push her lower back so she ends lean to the page in the desk, I hear her just lets a sigh escape between her lips.
"What's wrong now, Miss Romanoff?"
"Nothing, it's perfect," I hear her swallow and got back up "You can go now. Monday I want you to come in earlier and put this on the computer to add to the folders, is that clear?" I say with authority and she nods.
"Yes, Miss Romanoff." I grab my stuff as she turns around and stare at her hips as they sway from side to side, I walk out after her and go into the elevator.
"I saw that you came walking, and it's already late, I'm taking you home." She looks at me surprised.
"Oh no, that's fine, Miss Romanoff, I can walk."
"I wasn't asking you, Y/N, I'm telling you," the elevator doors open, "walk."
"Yes, Miss Romanoff."
Y/N follows me like a little puppy to the building's garage which is now empty, only my Corvette is there. I unlock my door and climb in, opening the door from the inside for her to enter. 
The car fills with her scent and it's intoxicating, in a good way.
I touch the key ring for the gate to open and once we are in the street I start driving to her apartment, it's not that far from the building but it's late and it's also cold for a walk.
I casually observe her, she is looking out the window at the street lights. I look at her thighs too and I would like to put my hand on them just like I did at the event last night. I park in front of the door of her building, she thanks me and gets out of the car, I make sure she gets in and I head to my house.
I need to take a cold shower after all the thoughts that went through my head while thinking about her. It doesn't work as I expected and ended up going to sleep thinking about my assistant.
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natashaslittlegirl · 11 months
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BESTIE!
i am reading romanoff's assistant on wattpad AND HONESTLY IVE BEEN HOOKED
the sexual tension, the scenes, EVERYTHING IS SO PERFECT I LITERALLY CANT STOP IT FROM GETTING OUT OF MY HEAD
i love you for writing such an amazing fic, thank you đŸ«¶đŸ«¶
OMG THANK U SM<33333 (were you the one who ask for the link?)
Here is gonna be a reeaaaally short version, but the wattpad one has a lot more of chapters coming đŸ€­
love u more<33333
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