hgwellswh13 - Tumblr blog

hgwellswh13 · 7 days ago

Text

𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑀𝑒

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: You decide to pay for your sugar mommy's meal, and she reminds you of your place.

content warnings: BDSM, impact play, hair pulling, restraints, cunnilingus, fucking machine, buttplug, dumbification, subspace, edging, orgasm denial

word count: 7.4k+

masterlist

“Baby?” Wanda calls, “Are you ready?”

Something falls in the bathroom, Wanda’s eyes flicking over to the door in mild concern. You appear, your cheeks lightly flushed as you hold a towel loosely around your body. Wanda can’t help but trail her eyes down your frame, raising her eyebrow in a silent command.

You drop the towel, biting your lip as you make your way over to her. “Sorry, I dropped my lotion.”

Green eyes lock on yours, Wanda’s pupils dilating as she takes in your nudity. Your nipples are already hard, your skin soft and smelling faintly of her vanilla-scented body wash. She loved it when you used her products.

It was one of her rules, actually. You were required to use any product Wanda instructed you to, which consisted mainly of her own -expensive- things. You didn’t mind, you loved being taken care of, in every way.

Leaning down, you gently kiss her, smiling as her hand makes its way to your waist, her fingers digging in and urging you closer. This is your favorite side of her, the one that craves you. You love her fingers pulling you in, her lips on your skin, her eyes solely on yours.

“I’ve laid out a dress for you,” she murmurs, her voice husky and low. It sends a pleasant warmth down your spine that pools in your gut. “Go put it on.”

Her tone is firm as she gently pushes you toward the bed. You catch her eyes lingering on your nude form, glancing over you through the mirror as she applies the last bits of her makeup. Grinning to yourself, you decide to put on a show for her, swaying your hips as you saunter over to the bed.

There it is. The dress she’d picked out for you. It was beautiful, dark red and lacy, a long slit in the side that practically reached your hips. It had a neckline that dipped dangerously low, enough to tease the sight of your chest but not too much to expose you indecently. Just the way Wanda liked it. Lying next to the dress was a pair of black heels, the bottom of them painted bright red, a sight you’d become accustomed to.

Biting your lip to hide your excitement, you slowly pull the dress over your head, moving your hips slowly to fully pull it over your body. You note the lack of panties or a bra on the bed, your cheeks flushing slightly at the thought of sitting through dinner without any undergarments. Luckily, the dress supported your chest well, your breasts sitting comfortably with the extra padded support.

“Perfect,” Wanda murmurs, having spun around to watch you.

Smiling, you bask in her attention as you slowly spin around, adjusting your hair slightly. Your zipper has been caught halfway up your back, the small piece of metal resting just below your shoulder blades.

Wanda gestures to you, a silent command.

You obey, snagging the heels from off the bed and padding toward her. You feel giggly, and a bit like you’re playing dress-up, but Wanda looks at you with utter adoration; her normally serious expression is nowhere to be found. Her eyes are wide and unguarded, her hands firm as she beckons you closer, but not stern and unforgiving as they usually are.

Biting your bottom lip, you decide that you quite like this side of her. It was almost… adorable.

As if she could read your thoughts, Wanda’s eyes snap up to yours from where they’d been lingering around your neckline. “Sit on my lap, darling.”

Blinking, you clear your throat as a strange shyness creeps over you.

“Now.”

Wanda’s tone turns slightly icy, her eyebrows furrowing slightly at your hesitance. She doesn’t like to be disobeyed.

“Yes, ma’am,” you murmur, noting the way her face smooths at your words. Quickly, you drop onto her lap, sitting sideways since your dress won’t allow you to straddle her as you usually did. The heels slip from your fingers, landing on the carpet with a soft thump as Wanda’s hand snakes around your waist.

Her green eyes peer into yours, studying your face. You notice the subtle makeup she’s put on, her eyelids darkened seductively with dark gold eyeshadow, her black eyeliner small and precise. Her lips are also dark, a matte red color coating them. You wonder if it would stain your skin, then promptly push that thought to the back of your mind, lest you leak through your expensive dress.

“I have some jewelry for you,” Wanda murmurs, her other hand coming up to trace the thin gold chain fastened permanently around your neck. She’d gifted it to you last year, her initials subtly engraved into the chain, a private sign of her ownership of you. Wanda wore a similar necklace, your initials also engraved into the silver metal glittering around her neck.

Smiling, you lean in until your lips are mere inches from hers, “I love it when you dress me, Wanda.”

“I know you do,” Wanda smirks, her hand dropping to grip your thigh possessively for a moment, before she reaches for some jewelry she’s laid out on the vanity in front of her. Her fingers send heat down your spine as she grazes them lightly across your skin, clasping a few necklaces around your neck. She adjusts them, laying the metal perfectly on your chest before she taps your hands in a silent command.

Obediently, you raise your hands, watching her slip various rings on them. Somehow, Wanda always manages to match your jewelry to your outfit perfectly. You’re in awe every time, and you no longer protest when she demands to dress you.

Green eyes flit over your ears, Wanda nodding slightly in approval as she takes in your various earrings. “Perfect,” she mutters, her hand coming back down to your thigh.

“Yes, you are.”

“Don’t deflect, darling. What do you say when I compliment you?” Wanda’s tone is light, but her eyes are intense, her fingers squeezing your thigh.

“Thank you, Wanda.”

Smirking, Wanda releases her hold on your thigh. “Good girl.” She moves to stand, helping you off her lap and adjusting your hair to fall perfectly over your shoulders. “Now put those heels on and meet me by the cars.”

Wanda lightly kisses you, careful not to ruin her lipstick -or yours- before she playfully squeezes your waist and walks out the door.

The heels slip on quickly, perfectly molded to your feet. You take a moment, looking at yourself in the mirror and willing your blush to go away. You’re unsuccessful.

Wanda is beautiful. She stands next to the passenger door of her favorite car, opening it and ushering you in. The exterior is gleaming, the dark red gloss standing out. The interior is even nicer, somehow, all black leather with red trim. It smells as fresh as the day she bought it.

Taking a moment, you admire Wanda’s outfit, her silver jewelry and sharply cut jacket. She’s several inches taller than you, her heels clacking softly on the ground as she shuts the door softly before rounding the car to the driver’s side.

The drive to the restaurant is relatively short. You steal glances at Wanda the entire time, loving the comforting weight of her hand on your thigh.

You’ve grown used to being pampered by her. She makes a lot of decisions for the two of you, and you love her control over you. You love providing for her as well, insisting on cooking meals whenever you can. Between your part-time job at a bookstore and your relationship, you were pretty okay with your life.

Wanda would have preferred you to be home all the time, especially when she often worked from her home office, but you’d insisted on keeping your job. You liked it, there was a bookstore cat named Freckles, and your manager was really nice. Plus, you loved being surrounded by books all day.

Shifting in your seat slightly, you bite your lip in excitement as you feel your credit card sitting snug between the fabric of your dress and your breasts. You’d been saving up for months, knowing that Wanda had expensive tastes. This restaurant was meant for upper-class patrons, so you’d prepared well in advance. You wanted to surprise her tonight; after all, it wasn’t often you got to return the favor of spoiling Wanda.

Wanda never lets you pay for anything. You'll be changing that tonight.

The restaurant is just as you remembered. Low lighting and soft voices that help you relax further into Wanda’s hand on the small of your back. It feels safer this way, more intimate.

“Right this way, Ma’am,” the waiter says, his voice quiet as he gestures for Wanda to follow. Her hand is splayed on your lower back, the warmth from her fingers propelling you forward as the waiter leads you to a table near the back.

The chair doesn’t make a sound and Wanda slides it out, gesturing for you to sit. Her hands briefly touch your shoulders before she pushes the chair in firmly, her stride elegant as she walks to the chair across from you.

“Two glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon, from the Robert Mondavi Winery Reserve,” she murmurs, the waiter nodding dutifully before striding away.

Those green eyes stare into yours, a soft smile playing on Wanda’s lips.

“You look beautiful tonight, darling.”

“Thank you, Wanda,” you whisper, blushing at the praise. You briefly touch the necklace resting between your collarbones. “I think you look amazing.”

Wanda smiles warmly at that, her hand sliding across the table to clasp yours. Her fingers are soft as you idly play with her rings.

The waiter returns, showing the bottle before Wanda nods at him. He pours the wine, standing still as Wanda takes a sip. His eyes are nervous, but Wanda simply nods again before quietly ordering food for the both of you.

You knew what she was going to order. You’d meticulously saved up in order to cover the bill, plus a generous tip. A flood of relief fills you when she doesn’t stray from her usual order, but you cover it up with a smile.

“How was work?”

Wanda begins speaking, her thumb running over the back of your hand as she does. You listen diligently, unsure of half the things she’s referring to but enjoying yourself nonetheless. The waiter returns some time later with steaming food, and you and Wanda make idle conversation while you eat.

It is one of the best meals you could have asked for. Perfectly cooked salmon with a side of quinoa salad and rice. There are complementary breadsticks, and you eagerly take two. The wine pairs nicely with the food, but you’re not a huge nerd about it like Wanda is. She knows all the best combinations.

Truly, it all tastes the same to you. But, you’d never tell her that.

“I’m going to use the restroom,” you say, wiping your mouth politely.

Wanda simply nods, sipping her wine. You’re a much faster eater than she is, and this is one of the times you’re grateful for the skill. Squeezing her hand briefly, you stand up and walk toward the restrooms.

Once you’ve rounded the corner, your heart begins to race. Glancing back, you see Wanda taking a small bite of her salad.

Perfect.

“Excuse me,” you say quietly, walking up to the waiter standing near the kitchen window. He looks up, surprised.

“How can I help you, ma’am?” He asks, politely averting his eyes when you dig into your dress for your credit card.

“I’d like to pay for my wife’s and my meal.”

He nods, gingerly taking your card. You try not to giggle, smoothing your face over when he nods and briskly walks into the backroom. Casually, you fix your hair, careful not to lean against the wall. Wanda had helped you with your posture, and you could still remember her lessons in the back of your mind.

“All set, ma’am.” The waiter returns, handing you your card back.

“Oh, thank you,” you murmur, placing it back into your dress and biting your lip to stifle your smile when he looks away again. You pull out two hundred-dollar bills, handing them to him. “Thank you.”

He smiles politely as he accepts the bills, nodding at you.

“I’d prefer you keep this from my wife until the end of the meal,” you say, watching his eyebrows raise slightly. “I’m surprising her.”

“Ah,” he smiles wider this time. “Always happy to be a part of a surprise, ma’am. My lips are sealed.”

With that, you walk back to your seat. You make sure not to walk too quickly, lest Wanda becomes suspicious. She always has a way of figuring out what you’ve been up to.

“There you are, darling,” she smiles at you and stands, pulling your chair out again. “I was beginning to worry.”

You flush, sitting down again and turning to look up at her. “Just decided to freshen up a bit, I wanted to look my absolute best for you.”

Leaning down, Wanda places a soft kiss against your cheek. “You always look wonderful, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Wanda.”

Smiling at you, Wanda returns to her seat and grasps the stem of her wine glass. You mirror her action, bringing the glass to your lips and taking a deep sip. You’re going to need some liquid confidence to get through the night once Wanda discovers what you’ve done.

One thing you’d learned early on in your relationship was that Wanda liked to be the one in charge of things. You didn’t mind, especially in the bedroom, but you’d always felt just a tiny bit disappointed when you wanted to spoil her and she’d refuse. She’d just offer her own card, raising an eyebrow at you and firmly reminding you that she was there to take care of you.

Sometimes it felt like you weren’t contributing anything of worth to the relationship.

“Darling?” Wanda’s green eyes are piercing, locked on your face. “Are you alright? You look… morose.”

You shake away your thoughts. You’re sitting here with the beautiful woman that you married, on a nice date that you’ve just paid for. Get a grip.

“Yes,” you say, smiling reassuringly at her. “I just got lost in my thoughts, you know how that happens sometimes.”

Laughing slightly, you watch Wanda’s lips quirk up slightly, but something tells you that she won’t let the subject go that easily. You reach across the table, grabbing her hand and making sure she can see down the front of your dress.

“Baby, I’m fine. Really.”

Green eyes flit down, before they glance back up at you, her eyebrow raised. “Alright. Just stay present with me, okay?”

You nod eagerly, smiling brightly at her before sitting up again.

Under the table, you feel the top of Wanda’s heel brush against your leg, advancing slowly as it makes its way above your knees and further up your thigh. “You’ll pay for that stunt,” Wanda murmurs.

Your heart stops for a moment, your mind flashing back to your credit card, before you realize she’s talking about your adventurous moment when she got a nice full look at your chest.

“I understand,” you quip, adjusting in your seat to spread your legs further just slightly, watching the way Wanda’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. That’s right, two could play this game. You smiled victoriously.

“How do you feel about going to the speakeasy a bit further downtown?” Wanda asks, finishing the rest of her wine. You mirror her actions, feeling the pleasant buzz under your skin.

You nod, and Wanda smiles at you, grabbing her clutch.

“I’ll be right back.”

Watching her leave to find the waiter, you wait anxiously. You can just barely see her across the restaurant, her red hair glowing slightly in the warm lighting. She’s exchanging low words with the waiter, before he gestures over towards your table. Two sets of eyes turn towards you, one apologetic and the other unreadable.

You’re focused on the green pair, barely noticing the cash Wanda hands the waiter as a tip.

She advances slowly, moving through the restaurant as her gaze never leaves yours. “Darling…” she says when she reaches your seat, her hand on your shoulder. It’s firm, not painful, but her fingers dig in just enough to express how she’s feeling.

“Surprise,” you say, smiling up at her. You’re proud of yourself; your voice didn’t even waver. Standing, you bite your lip as you gaze at her, assessing her expression.

She reveals nothing, her hand snaking around your waist and guiding you toward the front door. What would normally be a comforting action sends pleasant shivers down your spine.

Wanda remains silent all the way to the car, opening the passenger door and ushering you in. Sliding into the driver's seat, she starts the car before letting out a breath.

“Explain.”

“I wanted to treat you for once,” you say stubbornly. You might as well have crossed your arms and pouted, but you didn’t.

Looking at you, Wanda sighs. “Darling, why do you always fight me on this topic?”

You don’t answer, looking out of your window as Wanda begins backing up the car, the low hum of the engine comforting. The city flashes before you as she drives, people milling about, and different lights hitting your eyes.

“Sweetheart,” Wanda says, something in her tone telling you to turn and look at her. “You know that I appreciate it when you want to pay for me, don’t you?”

You furrow your brow. “I… well, I always thought it just annoyed you.”

“It does annoy me,” Wanda shoots a look at you. “But, that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to do.”

Then, she sighs. “In this relationship, you do so much for me. One of the only ways I feel that I can take care of you is by paying and making sure you don’t have to worry about anything financially. Do you understand?”

“I- but I don’t do that much for you?”

Wanda laughs then, the sound surprising you. “Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea, do you?”

Shaking your head, you watch her as you wait for an explanation.

“Lift up the hem of your dress.”

It’s a command, and you blink at the sudden turn of events. Still, you know better than to disobey Wanda. Slowly, you drag the hem up until the tops of your thighs are revealed.

“Spread your legs.”

“Wanda…”

She shoots you a look. You spread your legs.

“Touch yourself.”

At that, you suck in a breath. Trailing your fingers down, you collect some of your arousal on your fingertips, surprised at how wet you are. Then, you begin circling your clit, nice and slow, just the way Wanda likes it.

“Good girl. Keep doing that.”

Wanda smiles, glancing down at your fingers every so often as she makes her way out of the city. You want to ask about the speakeasy, but choose to remain silent. She seems to be proving a point somehow, and you wait for her to explain.

“We’re going home, where I’m going to make us some drinks and you’re going to sit on my lap while we make a new rule. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Smiling at that, Wanda reaches over, placing a hand on your thigh. It makes your skin buzz hotly, and you resist the urge to circle your clit faster.

“This is one of many things you do for me, darling. Your submission is everything to me, and you offer it so willingly. I’ve been able to freely express my dominant side with you, and you’ve never judged me for the things I desire in a sexual dynamic. You were made for me.”

You nod, realization creeping into your mind. Wanda isn’t finished.

“You have your job, which I allowed because I know how happy it makes you, and I want you to have a life outside of me. As much as I would like to keep you for myself, I know how much you adore that bookshop. At home, you cook for me, not because I’ve asked you to, but because you genuinely enjoy cooking. That is something you provide for me.”

Wanda quirks an eyebrow at you. “When I get home, what is the first thing you do?”

Blushing, you respond, your words slightly breathy. “I take your coat and purse, give you a kiss, and walk with you to your home office while you tell me about your day.”

Nodding, Wanda continues. “That is another thing you provide for me, sweetheart.”

She continues to list things, small, mundane things that you hadn’t considered to be a big deal. Evidently, they meant the world to Wanda. The way you helped her with laundry, when you’d rub her shoulders after a long meeting, make her a drink in the evening, and especially when you’d follow her orders.

“Like I said, you were made for me. You do so much for our relationship.”

“So do you,” you protest, stopping yourself from saying more when she shoots a sharp look your way.

“One of the main ways I feel that I can contribute and take care of you in this relationship is with my income. You know I make a lot, darling, I’ve never hidden that from you. I work long days so that I can come home and make your life comfortable.”

“Oh,” you say, finally understanding.

“Please, darling. Let me use my money on you. That’s why I work so hard.”

You nod, unable to speak as you realize why Wanda was so insistent on paying for everything.

“I see you finally understand,” Wanda says, glancing down again. “Go faster.”

Blinking, you circle your clit faster, biting your lip at the pleasure it brings. You take a deep, shuddering breath, sure that you’re leaking through your dress. The air in the car becomes warm, and the next time that Wanda looks at you, her pupils are blown.

“Keep going,” she murmurs, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. “If you cum before we get home, your punishment will be worse.”

You whine, nodding as you keep your pace. You try desperately to think of anything other than the woman seated beside you, her grip firm on your thigh as you feel your pleasure building.

The fingers on your thigh grip harshly as you slow your pace slightly, trying to stave off your incoming orgasm.

“What did I say?” Wanda hisses, her eyes glancing sharply at you.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry… what?”

You shudder, feeling little bolts of pleasure crashing through you. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“Hmm,” Wanda pretends to think, watching as you increase your pace again. “I don’t think that’s a strong enough title, do you?”

“I’m sorry, Mistress.”

Wanda smiles, satisfied. “Good girl. Keep going. Please your Mistress.”

You let out a low moan at her words, feeling your pleasure increase tenfold as she calls herself that title. You try to stop it, your orgasm. But Wanda is talking, telling you that you’re doing so well for her as her fingers slowly inch up your thigh, her vanilla scent engulfing you as your muscles spasm, white-hot pleasure overtaking you.

You fingers stall, your orgasm coursing through you as your clit pulses. Wanda makes a noise, her fingers grabbing yours and moving them back to your raw clit. “Did I tell you to stop?”

“No, I’m sorry, Mistress.”

Continuing, you let your fingers wring every last drop of pleasure from you, aware of the fact that you’ve just made your punishment worse. You truly couldn’t help it. I mean, it’s not your fault that your wife was insanely hot and her words were able to bring you to orgasm, was it?

You’re working your way up to a second orgasm when Wanda pulls into the driveway of your shared home. As the garage shuts behind you, she turns the engine off, her hand grabbing yours and gently pulling it away from your swollen clit.

Wrapping her fingers around your wrist, Wanda brings your hand to her lips, maintaining eye contact with you as she sucks the arousal off of your fingers.

“I can smell your arousal,” she murmurs, releasing your fingers with a soft pop. “I’m going to get changed. By the time I come back, I want you nude and kneeling on the floor in front of the couch, with two drinks in your hands. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.” You watch her exit the car and round the side to open your door.

Wanda disappears into the bedroom, and you quickly make your way to the kitchen, grabbing the ingredients to make Wanda’s favourite cocktail.

It isn’t long before you’re finished, garnishing each drink with a maraschino cherry. You walk carefully to the living room, setting the drinks on two coasters near the couch. Wanda didn’t like it when you forgot about the coasters. You didn’t blame her, all of the furniture in your home was expensive, much of it was hand-crafted.

Stripping out of your beautiful dress, you fold it neatly and place it on the chair nearby, your heels sitting next to it. You remove all of your jewelry, except for the permanent gold chain around your neck.

Grabbing the drinks, you kneel in front of the couch, facing the cushions. It’s a position that Wanda had trained into you, and you’re well aware of the wetness clinging to your center as you wait.

Footsteps sound out, heels clicking towards you. As much as you want to, you don’t dare turn from your position, knowing that Wanda liked the thrill of suspense.

“I hope you enjoyed that orgasm in the car,” Wanda says, stepping around you to sit on the couch. Your mouth waters as she comes into view. “It will be your only orgasm tonight.”

Your eyes snap up to hers, but you remain silent, her eyes hard and unforgiving. The lingerie set she’s wearing is gorgeous, all black with a lacy corset. There are accents of dark red throughout the whole piece, and you can feel yourself getting worked up as you take her in.

Wanda’s hand grabs one of the glasses, sipping from it as she makes a small noise of appreciation. Setting it to the side, she grabs the cherry and pops it in her mouth, before she leans forward to grab your jaw.

“Open.”

You can smell the cherry and sharp hints of alcohol on her tongue, and you obey. Wanda’s fingers reach into your glass, grabbing the cherry and bringing it to your parted lips. She rubs it over your top lip first, then your bottom lip. You remain still, watching her eyes as she slowly presses the cherry onto your tongue.

“Chew and swallow, dear.”

You obey, looking into her eyes as you do so.

Wanda smirks, satisfied with your obedience. She grabs your glass, tapping her knees in a silent command as she brings the glass to your lips. You rest your hands on the tops of your thighs, palms facing up as she tips the glass forward, the sweet drink flowing into your mouth.

She has you drink until the glass is empty, your stomach warm from the alcohol and lips buzzing from the way she’d wiped them with her fingers once she was done. Wanda sits back, watching your flushed face as she sips on her own drink.

“There is going to be a new rule implemented, darling.”

You nod, tilting your head slightly.

“When we are together, I will pay for everything. If you wish to make a purchase, you will talk to me beforehand. You know how I hate it when you disobey or trick me in public.” Wanda’s eyes soften. “Occasionally, you can buy some things when we are together, I won’t deny you that. But, let me take care of you, okay?”

You nod. The decision is easy now that you know the real reason why Wanda was so insistent on paying for everything. Besides, it was nice to be taken care of.

“Good girl.”

Wanda finishes her drink, setting it next to your glass. “You know that I have to punish you, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress.” You hang your head slightly, wondering what type of punishment Wanda has planned. Strong fingers grip your chin, wrenching your head up.

“You know why, don’t you?”

“Because I went behind your back, Mistress.”

Wanda’s eyes flash, a pleased smile adorning her face. “Exactly, sweetheart. You know that what you did was wrong, and you know how I hate it when you are dishonest with me.”

At that, Wanda stands, still gripping your face as you crane your neck to look up at her. “Who owns you?”

“You do, Mistress.”

Wanda’s fingers tighten on your jaw, forcing your mouth open. She spits, letting her saliva drip into your mouth, and you swallow obediently.

“Crawl,” she commands, before turning and walking slowly to the bedroom.

You obey, your eyes glued to the sway of her backside as her footsteps click down the hallway. The hallway is carpeted, something you’re grateful for as you crawl behind Wanda. You can feel your arousal running down your inner thighs as you crawl, and sharp arousal mixed with soft humiliation mixes deep inside you.

You reflect on your choices as you crawl, satisfaction that Wanda had finally explained why she liked to pay working its way through you, even as regret pools in your stomach. You truly hated going behind Wanda’s back, and although it was meant as a thoughtful surprise, you now understood why it meant so much to Wanda to take care of you financially.

Wanda stops, wordlessly pointing at the bed. You blink, having not realized that you’d made it to the bedroom already. You follow Wanda’s instructions, crawling onto the bed as she shuts the door behind you, a few warm lamps lighting the room.

“Sometimes I forget…” Wanda begins, sauntering back over to the bed, a glint in her eye. “I forget that good girls like you need discipline to keep them in line, isn’t that right?”

You nod.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Wanda’s eyes hardened. “Yes, Mistress… what?”

“I-” your eyes dart around the room, unsure of what Wanda wants you to say. The woman reached behind you, grabbing two velcro cuffs and attaching them to your wrists while you fumble for an answer.

“What do good girls need, sweetheart?” Wanda finally says, testing the cuffs to make sure they’re secure but not too tight.

“Oh, um. Good girls need their Mistresses to discipline them to remind them of their place.” You turn to look at Wanda, hopeful that you’ve supplied the correct answer. Wanda smiles at you, tracing a finger down your face as she nods.

“Very good,” she murmurs, grabbing a piece of metal and attaching your wrists together on your lap. You know that you can’t escape, so you don’t even test the strength of the restraints; you just watch Wanda.

Tapping your lower back, Wanda urges you into position. “On your knees, ass up, darling. I want your arms straight up so your face is on the mattress.”

You obey, stretching your arms out and presenting your backside. Wanda’s hand lands on the back of your head, ensuring that you stay in place, before she strokes your hair and trails her fingers down your spine. Her lips caress your ear, her vanilla scent washing over you as she whispers, “Count for me.”

You barely have time to question it before a resounding crack echoes through the room. You register the pain a second later, a burning sensation multiplying the humiliation and arousal inside you.

“One, Mistress.”

Wanda is relentless, using her hand first, until you no longer squirm when she spanks you. She lets out a frustrated noise as your voice remains steady, stalking over to the closet and emerging with more toys.

“I want to see you break,” she hisses, grabbing the roots of your hair and twisting your head until your wide eyes meet hers. She relishes the wide look of anticipation and trepidation on your face, before she roughly shoves your face back into the mattress, one hand steadying your back while the other raises a paddle and brings it down sharply with a twist of her wrist.

“T- twenty-three, Mistress,” you moan, feeling tears form in your eyes as your head starts to become fuzzy. This was the headspace that you loved the most, and Wanda knew just how to get you there.

Wanda resumes, switching between the paddle and a soft cane, the low whistle in the air before it strikes you, causing your arousal to spike.

“God, I love how much of a masochist you are,” Wanda says, her voice slightly raspy. “You’ll take anything I give you, won’t you, darling?”

“Yes, Mistress,” you say, your voice slightly muffled from the way your face is pressed into the mattress.

Wanda delivers one final blow, the crack jolting your body forward as your fingers grip the comforter tightly, a muffled sob sounding out. Her cool fingers gently trail over your raw, red ass, her voice whispering in your ear, “Color?”

“Yellow, Mistress,” you moan. “I just need a moment.”

“Good girl,” she responds, rubbing your backside for a moment before walking back into the closet to retrieve more toys, letting you catch your breath.

She remains in the closet for a suspiciously long time, but you don’t dare raise your head. You can hear her rummaging around, her heels making a soft thud on the carpet as she returns, the weight of the bed shifting as she deposits whatever items she collected.

There are some more noises, near the foot of the bed, and you feel yourself craning to hear what she might be doing.

“Turn around, darling,” Wanda commands. “On your knees, facing the headboard.”

“Yes, Mistress,” you mumble, quickly following her order. You can feel her attaching cuffs of some sort to your ankles, and you realize that you’ve been restrained with a spreader bar. Flexing your ankles for a moment, you realize that you’re well and truly stuck. It sends a rush of arousal through you.

“You like this, don’t you,” Wanda murmurs, dragging a finger through your dripping slit, an appreciative moan telling you that she licked your juices from her finger.

You can’t do much but whimper, hearing her chuckle from behind you.

The feeling of something thick prodding at you makes your heart stutter for a moment, before you feel Wanda’s fingers spreading lube all over what you presume to be a dildo. She makes sure to spread some on you as well, her fingers scissoring inside you as she ensures you’re well lubricated.

There’s a click, and then you hear the soft hum of machinery. A thick dildo presses against you, and you moan as you feel it start to penetrate you.

“Hold still,” Wanda commands, and you obey, feeling her adjusting the machine. The dildo presses deep inside you, hitting that spot inside you that causes pleasure to bloom, and you groan into the mattress.

“Perfect.”

Wanda rounds the bed, the machine slowly thrusting her favorite dildo deep inside you, the sounds of your wet pussy being slowly fucked sending her own arousal soaring. She grips your hair again, pulling your head up to admire the glassy look in your eyes. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

“I- mmmph,” you manage, your eyes gazing into hers, not a thought behind them.

Chuckling, Wanda presses a button on the remote, the dildo moving slightly faster. Your mouth opens, your cheeks coloring further as a deep flush emerges.

God, it feels amazing. Wanda’s cool hands on your cheeks as your body is set alight with pleasure. She’s moving, pulling off her lingerie as she manoeuvres herself to sit against the headboard.

You can smell her, so you drop your gaze down to her perfect pussy, licking your lips at the glistening arousal you find there.

“Go on,” Wanda’s voice cuts through the haze. She clicks the remote again, the dildo fucking you faster and deeper. “Make Mommy feel good.”

At that, you dive in, not needing to be told twice. Eating Wanda out was something you’d never tire of. She smelled divine, and tasted even better. You’d told her once that you thought she compared to the nectar of the Gods, and she’d been so pleased that she allowed you to eat her out during an entire workday from home. It had been one of the best days of your life.

“Oh, fuck,” Wanda breathes out, feeling your tongue expertly wrap around her clit, stimulating her in that perfect way of yours. Her hand makes its way to your hair, gripping tightly. It would be uncomfortable, but you loved the pain as she pulled on your roots slightly, pushing your face further into her.

Your hands are still uselessly cuffed together, but your fingers manage to find Wanda’s nipples. You pinch them in that way she likes so much, and you feel her clit pulse beneath your tongue.

Wanda has never been very vocal during sex, but you’ve learned how to read her all the same. You can feel her breath stutter beneath your fingers, and you continue to stimulate her nipples, rolling and pinching until her muscles twitch. She subconsciously thrusts harder into your mouth, and you eagerly accept.

When she comes, it’s quietly, with a low moan and her fingers gripping your hair like she never wants to let you go. You moan with her, your pleasure building as the dildo continues to fuck you slowly, sliding in and out of you until your brain can’t focus on anything else.

“Fuck,” Wanda whispers, pulling your head up to gaze at you. “I want to fill you up, darling.”

Your eyes widen, but you nod, the pleasure making your mind fuzzy. Wanda knows this. She knows how easy you are to manipulate and follow her every word when you’re desperate to cum.

Smirking, Wanda caresses your cheek for a brief moment before she slides out from under you, grabbing another toy from the nightstand.

It’s a beautiful buttplug, made of pure gold with a dark red gem at the end. It’s one of Wanda’s favorites, and you like it well enough. It’s not too big, just enough to stretch you out and make you feel full, and you love it when Wanda claims every part of you.

“Relax, baby,” Wanda murmurs, gently squeezing some lube onto your ass. You obey her, the pleasure from the dildo making your muscles weak. Wanda presses on the remote again, the dildo fucking you faster, pleasure erupting inside you.

Slowly, Wanda inserts the buttplug. You can feel the stretch, the slight burn as the thickest part of the plug makes it past your rim, the sensation of being full making you pant and moan.

“You like that, don’t you? You like it when I claim every one of your holes, hmm?” Wanda asks, twisting the buttplug so it’s covered in lube as she slowly inserts it.

“Yes, Mistress,” you moan, bucking your hips into her hand. This causes the dildo to fuck deeper inside you, and you practically melt into the mattress, your muscles going limp from pleasure.

Wanda chuckles, inserting the buttplug fully and relishing the way you whine at the fullness you feel. She admires you for a moment, the dark red gem glinting back at her as your arousal drips down your thighs while the machine fucks you relentlessly.

Grabbing a soft towel, Wanda slips it underneath you, grabbing your ass when she’s finishes and kneading your hot flesh. You moan, full twinges of pain only adding to your pleasure. You can feel an orgasm starting to emerge, your heart racing as pleasure builds within you.

“Do you want to cum?” Wanda asks, her voice sounding out next to your ear.

You moan in response, too weak to do much else.

“Aww,” Wanda coos, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. “My pet is too dumb to respond correctly, isn’t she?”

Her words reverberate around your skull, the warm vanilla scent engulfing you as your mind grows hazier. You can’t offer much other than soft whimpers and moans, your head turning to tearfully look at your Mistress.

“Well,” Wanda begins, her hands caressing your sore backside harshly. “Since you can’t form a correct response, I suppose I’ll have to punish you.”

You would protest, but you can barely think of any words to say. Wanda’s hand comes down, gentler than her strikes before, but the impact on your already red ass makes you yelp, your mind breaking fully.

Wanda is gentle, but persistent. She spanks you in a rhythm you can’t decipher, unable to anticipate when she’ll strike next. It thrills you, and sends your mind deep into that vanilla headspace you’ve grown to love. Pain mixes with pleasure, the dildo fucking you slowly enough that you feel your orgasm growing, but never quite enough to tip you over the edge.

“P-please,” you manage, after you feel yourself edge again, Wanda monitoring your body’s reactions and slowing the dildo down whenever you grow too close to an orgasm.

“Use your words, darling. Full sentences."

“I-,” you moan loudly, the dildo speeding up.

“Pathetic,” Wanda murmurs, her hand grabbing your hair and yanking your head up. Green eyes meet glazed ones, and she smirks. “You can’t even beg properly anymore, you’re completely mine, aren't you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” you moan, unable to say anything else.

“Good girl,” Wanda releases your hair, letting your head press into the mattress weakly. She clicks the remote again, the dildo fucking you harder than before, the sound of your arousal making it’s way to your ears as you feel pleasure growing once again.

Your orgasm is close, your knuckles white as you grip the pillow, your muscles tense. You’re so close, and Wanda knows it.

“Tell me, darling,” Wanda begins, sitting next to you, stroking your back gently as the dildo fucks punishingly into you. “What lesson did you learn today?”

“I- um… to… to let you, mmphh fuck, to let you pay for me…”

Wanda smiles. “Exactly.” Then, she stands, reaching back to slowly grab the buttplug, pressing it even further into you. You moan, a broken, weak sound that makes Wanda pulse with need.

“You’re going to obey me.” Wanda pulls the buttplug slightly out, before slamming it back into you. “You will never question me or go behind my back again, do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress,” you yelp, moaning as you feel your orgasm creep closer.

“Oh, sweetheart, you know I just want to take care of you, right?” Wanda’s voice is sickly sweet. “That’s all I want. And you just need to learn your place.”

You nod frantically, your submissiveness clicking firmer into place, your role reestablished in your mind.

“Yes, Mistress,” you moan. “I know my place, I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll never disobey you again.”

“I doubt that,” Wanda murmurs to herself, before smiling at your wrecked form. “One more edge, baby, then we can be done for the night.”

You nod, moaning as Wanda clicks the remote higher, the dildo fucking you faster and rougher than it had previously. You’re almost overwhelmed with pleasure, Wanda’s hands on your face and ass, her presence everywhere. You love it.

“I- m gonna…”

Wanda clicks the remote, the dildo stopping immediately.

You moan in slight frustration, feeling your arousal leaking around the dildo as it drips down your thighs. Everything happens in a haze, Wanda removing the dildo from you and slowly taking your buttpluge out. She unclips your restraints, leaving you boneless on the bed as you embrace the comfortable haze in your mind.

The shower is nice, warm, and smelling of vanilla as Wanda washes your body and hair, whispering sweet things into your ear while you slump against her. It’s not until you’re wrapped up underneath the covers that you finally begin to emerge from that comfortable headspace, your limbs entangled with your wife’s.

“I love you, darling. Thank you for your trust in me.”

“You always make good decisions for us,” you say, yawning slightly and burrowing further into her. “I love you, too.”

Wanda smiles, making a contented noise as you hear her breathing start to grow softer.

“Hey, Wands?”

“Hmm.”

“I’m paying for ice cream tomorrow.”

And with that, you ignore the soft, happy sigh your wife lets out, letting her vanilla scent engulf you completely.

Your life truly couldn’t be more perfect.

—-

Dm or comment to be added/removed!

Taglist: @alexawynters @msvenablesbitch @marilynthornhilllover @lifespectator @milkeeteaa @imnotawitch @dorabledewdroop @justarandomreaderxoxo @godhatesgoodgirls @snowdrop1026 @maximoffmorale @noturlondonboy @xenaizogie @imjustvibingsworld @tobiaslut @xenaizogie @sxlfishbrokenheart @huggingkoalas @deliriosinrose @godhatesgoodgirls @yeetus-thyself @wizardofstories @wandastan-2 @the-ox-fan20 @danveration @jazzyxqzl @jolyssereed @ahintofchaos @secrettoallofyou @violentlanes

1K notes · View notes

hgwellswh13 · 9 days ago

Note

everyone is obssessed w pillow princess reader lol (me included)

so... nat filming r during sex (with her consent ofc) and reader being all shy about it later

18+ “how do you feel about making a video?” natasha asks nonchalantly one day you look up from the book you’re reading. “what? what type of video?” you question, and the subsequent smirk on her face has you flushing immediately. oh, that type of video

and that’s how you find yourself on your hands and knees, pussy on full display for your girlfriend. she grips the camera, fingers tightening around it unconsciously as she stares down at you, aiming it right at your presenting pussy, making sure it doesn’t miss a single detail, zooming in on all of your leaking arousal natasha then zooms back out and situates the camera on the nightstand, positioning your two figures in the frame and angling it to capture everything “you okay?” she asks, and you eye the camera self-consciously but nod your head. with your confirmation, she’s lines herself up, strap prodding at your hole you initially gasp at the stretch, but your sudden intake of breath eventually transitions into a low whine natasha rocks her hips back, letting you feel every inch of her as she pulls out before she’s sinking back in, and when she finally bottoms out, she stills, needing a moment to just look at you, to take in the vision that you are, your bodies flush against one another, your pretty pussy spreading to accommodate her strap. natasha groans, not even trying to stifle the noise. she’s desperate to move, to snap her hips, but she remains still, allowing you to gradually adjust to the size

you’re barely holding yourself up on your hands and knees as is, arms shaking with the effort, so when one of natasha’s own hands makes harsh contact with the soft flesh of your ass, the sound resounding through the room, your elbows easily give out, and you’re falling face first onto the mattress, ass raising even higher as a result, giving her the opportunity to plunge even deeper inside you, her strokes hard and relentless “look at the camera, printessa,” she commands, and with what little strength you currently have, you turn to face it, cheek pressed into the bed, eyes fluttering open momentarily in an attempt to gaze at the small device, to do as she requested, before they’re clenching shut once more as she continues her assault. you feel dizzy with pleasure, and you’re sure you look like a fucked out mess, absolutely wrecked on camera, but you can’t bring yourself to care when one of her hands suddenly grabs at your hip, pulling you back onto her strap in time with her thrusts the room is filled with your cunt's wet, slick noises, the sound of skin slapping against skin, and your nonstop moans and whines and whimpers. natasha is well aware that you’re by no means quiet when you two are having sex, but this is a new level of loud, with you crying out every time she’s pushing in. your hips try to rut back into her, try to meet her thrusts, try to help her reach even deeper, but the hand on your hip holds you in place, hindering your attempts and controlling your motions her other hand moves to take hold of your hair, grabbing a fistful of the soft locks, and she drags your head up, arching your back deliciously as she continues to bury herself into you over and over

“alright, detka, you ready?” you bite your lip shyly, nodding despite your clear hesitation, and almost immediately after the video begins, a blush heats up your face, bright pink and unmistakable you can’t help but zero in on the noises, your ears catching each and every one of your moans. unfiltered, unrestrained, and oh so loud. is that really you? do you really sound like that? your cheeks flame further at the footage, eyes shifting away to pointedly avoid watching. just the audio is enough to overwhelm you right now, and you bury your head into the crook of natasha’s neck “trying to hide, are we?” she asks. her tone is teasing, playful, but there’s affection laced in as well. you are by far the cutest thing she’s ever seen “is that really what i sound like?” you mumble into her natasha laughs. “well, it is a recording,” she replies, still playful you only burrow further, nuzzling against her skin, taking comfort in the warmth and solidity of her body, her arms wrapped protectively around you at your lack of response, she glances down, studying you, observing your behavior. you’re physically comfortable curled up in her lap but emotionally anything but, and she tilts your chin up so you two lock eyes “dorogaya, you sound beautiful,” she murmurs, her expression softening at your clear embarrassment, “i love the way you sound, the noises you make, and you better not be thinking even for a second about hiding your sweet little moans from me after this”

198 notes · View notes

hgwellswh13 · 10 days ago

Text

as long as you’re mine

come be how you want to

and see how bright we shine

borrow the moonlight

until it is through.

2K notes · View notes

hgwellswh13 · 10 days ago

Text

for the warmth of another.

pairings: wanda maximoff x reader

synopsis: your girlfriend has been acting strangely lately, you couldn't quiet wrap your head around what it could be, maybe it was all in your head, maybe it was right in front of you this entire time.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: established relationship, dom/sub, smut, angst, fluff, top!wanda, bottom!reader, power play, praise kink, vaginal fingering, it gets rough

a/n: the song in this fic is double take by Dhruv.

The first time you argued with Wanda was the worst experience you’ve ever felt compared to all that you’ve been through.

Nothing could have prepared you for this, the amount of guilt that went through your body was horrible. It's worse than accidentally stepping on a bug. You already feel so much for her that it pained you even more.

Wanda had a tendency to ignore you when you didn’t agree with her on everything. Especially when she was about to do something stupid, you of course, had your own opinions based on the safety of your beloved girlfriend which she didn’t think about then how that would make you feel.

God forbid you care about her.

You knew it wasn’t just that though, you were scared of losing her, she was everything to you, you’re entire universe, you weren’t kidding when you declared that to her when you first confessed.

And here you are, sitting on top of the roof of your apartment building as you hear Wanda’s loud music blasting, it's her type of therapy where yours is silence, she also does it to piss you off.

The cold breeze brushes against your skin and you realize you’re barely wearing nothing, and its close to winter. You shivered, wishing for the warmth of another, you truly never meant to make her mad, she knows that, of course she does. She reads you so well. She knows you better than anyone else you’ve ever met.

The two of you have been dating for two years now, in a few weeks it is gonna be your third year anniversary, you wondered if you both will even last until then. Your heart ached, you hope so, you don’t ever wanna leave her.

You sighed as your phone vibrated in your pocket, you took it out to see a message from natasha.

Nat: hey, tonight was intense. You ok?

You shivered once again, of course she’d check in, she’s your best friend.. She can tell when you're upset and can see right through you if you try to hide it. Natasha was great, you were so glad you had her in your pathetic life. Yeah, pathetic was one way to describe it, you bitterly laughed.

You: she’s still mad.

Nat: I would be too, you made quiet the scene there.

You frowned at the screen, sighing. Of course she’d side with her.

You: nat you're supposed to be on my side :(

Nat is typing….

Nat: come on now, you know I mean well. I care about you both, don’t let one little thing be the end of it, ok?

You smiled.

You: I love her so much.

Nat: I know, go talk to her.

You: she’s literally ignoring me as we speak.

Nat: yeah, she’s waiting for you to talk to her, dumbass. Now go.

You huffed, not wanting to go inside just yet, enjoying the night breeze and the sound of the city, then you heard a pretty voice, Wanda was singing, you laid down on the ground and smiled, closing your eyes as you listened to her sweet voice.

Your mind had drifted, to the first few weeks after you both started officially dating, then when you told everyone, you were so in love, seriously. Everyone could see how love sick you were. Even she was, according to everyone else, she only had eyes for you. That was clear.

She made it known to anyone that was near that she was yours, even if you didn’t feel worthy enough for her, she was always making it known to you in her own way. Sure, she can be jealous, that’s an understatement of the year. She can get possessive, but you love those qualities about her, even if she got a bit much. You knew you were a lot at times, and yet she stuck by your side.

“I could say I never dare to think about you that way but I'd be lying” her beautiful voice sung through the apartment along the words to the song, your eyes still closed as if she were right next to you. “-in the midst of the crowds in the shapes of the clouds I don't see nobody but you”

The voice got more clear, like she was closer, then you felt something tickle your face like it was hair touching you, confused, you open your eyes, to see Wanda staring down at you, you were in awe, the moonlight reflecting off her face as she smiled.

“Are we still in a grump?” she asks playfully.

You huffed, “maybe.”

“Is that why you haven’t come back inside?” she said, her voice merely a whisper.

“I-” you paused, unsure of what to say. She raises an eyebrow at you.

“Come inside” she says, not taking a no for an answer.

“Wanda-”

“No.”

You went quiet after that as you let her drag you back inside, the feeling of her warm hand on yours as you smiled, once she had you inside where she wanted you to be, you turned her around, bringing her hand up as you kissed her knuckles. She smiled softly, caressing your cheek with her other hand.

“Do you wanna make it up to me?” she asks with a pout, and you’re captivated, you nod.

She pats your cheek, muttering something under her breath as you frown, not noticing the change in her demeanour, as if something had taken over your girlfriend. You then noticed the way her nails were painted darker, she never has them that black, black like ink, it was painted strangely, she saw you staring at them as she pulled them away, not saying a thing.

You follow her mindlessly to the bedroom as she pulls you in for a kiss, you wrap your arms around her, deepening the kiss. Her hands roam your body freely, you moan, leaning into her as she lifts you up and you put your legs around her waist.

She hums, her tongue slipping inside your mouth as you groaned, she gazes at you intensely, you feel yourself being pushed to the bed as she crawls on top of you, biting down on your lip, you hissed.

Wanda was never really this rough, what's gotten into her?

But before you could question her, she’s taking your clothes off and has you silenced, you watched her as she smiles, her smile feels different. Was this her? You wondered. You tried to touch her but she wouldn’t let you.

“Cute, but no touching,” she muttered, “my turn.”

You were too confused and horny to reject her, you let her win.

Wanda leaned in, spreading your thighs open as you were bare before her, in all your glory, she moaned at the sight, her fingers coming up as she traced along your wet pussy, you whimpered. She smirks at your reaction, her eyes darkened, without warning, she pushes two fingers inside of you, making you gasp as your hand goes to your chest, she grabs it and pins it back onto the bed. She fucks you, thrusting in and out at a pace so good you could almost start crying, you wanted to move, but she had a tight grip on you. Wanda wasn’t usually this dominant but fuck it was hot.

Your wanda was usually shy about taking control. She did enjoy it, but tonight she was wild. You wondered where this wanda had been the entire time.

Your pussy clenched around her as you came, crying out her name as wanda just stared at you, watching you, which made it even more hotter, if that was possible. She smiles, pulling her digits out that were now soaked as she brings them to your mouth, you gladly opened, sucking on them. She groaned, grabbing a fist full of your hair as you whimpered.

“I need you to fuck me next, can you handle that? Fuck me with that pretty bratty mouth of yours baby?” she whispered, her voice making you shudder as you whine. “Do not disappoint me.”

You never will even think too

465 notes · View notes

hgwellswh13 · 11 days ago

Text

In my head, it's Elphie and Glinda in their dorm (or in Glinda's emerald city apt) Someone talented plz draw this 💕💚

211 notes · View notes

hgwellswh13 · 11 days ago

Text

Demons

A/N: I'm baaacckkkkk, I was inspired by a tik tok about how dangerous the winter solstice is, and how the veil between this world and the next is thinnest this time of year. So, in honor of my previous spooky Nat fic, I wrote this :) Hope you all enjoy! Listen to Demons by Hayley Kiyoko if you're feeling jazzy. Image is from pintrest not mine, credit goes to the creator!

Summary: The darkest night of the year harbors dangerous creatures, and you find yourself in a precarious situation when Natasha returns after a month of radio silence...

Warnings: Uhhhh lesbian sex (duh), blood (minimal), dark! Wanda & dark! Natasha (not super dark just spooky) , slight horror themes, porn w plot, fingering (r receiving, Wanda receiving), oral (r giving & receiving, nat giving). Lmk if I missed anything, this was a long one and I wouldn't be surprised if I did tbh.

Word Count: 3.5K

Autumn departed in a long drawn-out battle, temperate weather ebbed into freezing winds and biting blizzards. Bare tree branches scraped against your window, and the leaves have long fallen to be replaced with icicles and heavy snow. Dried herbs and pickled goods littered your minimal counter and cabinet space, casting strange shadows in the dark. You sat in a small armchair near your fireplace, a book splayed open on your lap. The scent of bitternut hickory logs burning filled the space, mingling with the dried herbs and the soup you’d prepared earlier.

Your cat purred as she slept by the fireplace, her paws kneading the air. Your cozy cabin felt lonelier than ever during this holiday season, your only company was the cat. This solitude had never bothered you before, but after Natasha had slipped into your life and just as easily slunk out of your life, you found yourself feeling lonely. Your nightly visitor had stopped visiting, and you found yourself missing her company. After her last visit on All Hallow’s Eve, she stopped coming, and your fears were confirmed. Natasha wasn’t a townie who was visiting your isolated home, she was something else entirely. A true creature of the night, bound by ancient laws to restrict the havoc she could bring to the secular world.

Deep down, you had always known this was the case, her glowing eyes, sharp fangs, and claws hidden under a vague disguise gave her away. You shouldn’t miss her, she was not yours to keep, and she likely hadn’t thought about you since that final encounter. But you thought of her constantly, every night you spent between cold sheets with your fingers buried in your heat you thought of her. You closed your book, eyebrows knitting together at the memory of her body slotting against yours, the chorus of your moans filling your quiet cabin. The book clattered to the ground as you stood quickly from your chair. A log in the fireplace popped loudly, but your cat continued to purr, her flank rising steadily with each tiny breath. You ground your teeth as your eyes flickered around your tiny cabin, taking stock of the herbs you had grown and gathered.

It wasn’t enough. You hadn’t been prepared for All Hallow’s which is why you felt so tormented. Mere days separated you from the Winter Solstice, a time when the veil between worlds was thinnest. It was the popular belief that Halloween or Samhain was the most dangerous night of the year. But those people would be sorely mistaken, the true danger lies in the darkest night of the year which occurs on the Winter Solstice, a time when sun deities are said to have died. You were counting on Natasha’s return on this night, but you needed boundaries this time. You flew into a frenzy, throwing open cabinets and lighting beeswax candles as you rummaged through your stores. It became apparent that you would have to run into town for mistletoe and yule logs. There was little you could do tonight, so you set about pacing your cabin as you made a mental list of what needed to be done.

________

As the first rays of sun filtered through your window, you were already dressed and stepping out the door. You hurried into your beaten pickup truck, allowing the ancient vehicle to warm up as you double-checked your list. One full day of sunlight stood between you and the darkest night, between you and Natasha meeting once more. Of course, this was all provided she wanted to see you, a thought that made your stomach swirl with anxiety. Once the truck was warm enough you slowly drove through the powdery snow, navigating your way through the precarious roads.

Once in town, you checked off each item, leaving nothing to chance. You were back in your cabin, unloading sprigs of mistletoe and hauling yule logs into your home. You tethered the mistletoe above every threshold and sprinkled some salt down for good measure. A large chunk of beef was simmering in bone broth on your stove, the aroma overpowering the scent of smoke and herbs. The berries you had preserved were bubbling in a mixture of lemon juice, water, and sugar, well on their way to becoming a fine jam. A feast for yourself would be ready by dark, which wasn’t far away, and maybe if you were feeling generous, you’d welcome a guest.

The afternoon slipped by and you watched the sun set as you placed your jam in jars, the scent of freshly baked bread threatening to overwhelm the scent of the stew. It was the proper way to fend off spirits, a warm meal, salt covering thresholds, and mistletoe dangling above every doorway. Most would surely pass you by, but you were praying that one wouldn’t. As you sat out plates and poured yourself a glass of wassail, the heady scent of cider and cloves filled your nose as you brought the steaming cup to your lips. The flames of your candles licked at the air, occasionally spitting plumes of smoke into the still air. The sky outside was like crushed black velvet with studded diamonds sprinkled across its surface. You found yourself enamored with the vision of perfect constellations, the heat of your drink seeping into your calloused palms.

Just as you began to think about sitting down to eat your meal, there was a soft yet demanding knock on your door. Any feeling of warmth or comfort left your body as gooseflesh rose to the surface of your flesh. You sat your cup down softly and carefully crossed the room, pausing in front of the door, trying not to grin like an idiot.

“Hello?” Your voice was mistreated, rough from not speaking often. Your porch creaked under the weight of whatever was on the other side of your door.

“Let me in.” The voice was unfamiliar, your smile dropped from your face, eyes widening as a cold sweat broke out all over your body. It was feminine and sultry but it certainly was not Natasha.

“No.” Your breathing picked up as you staggered backward, and a soft malicious chuckle filled your ears as if the creature was right behind you. You spun around only to find your crackling fireplace with your cat batting a ball of yarn innocently across the floor. Another slow rhythmic knock rang through the cabin.

“Come on, don’t be scared.” The creature sang between knocks, followed by a soft scratching sound.

“Little witch I know you’re home.” You struggled to maintain your breathing as the scratches grew louder.

“You must be so lonely in there. I can help you.” The scratches stopped, the porch creaked, and the hinges on your door groaned. Carefully, you stepped closer to the door, call it a morbid curiosity. You pressed your body against the door, your ear on the smooth wood as you listened intently.

“Speak to me.” A wispy voice rang through the wood, she was also pressed against the door, and the vision of a beautiful woman just on the other side filled your mind. Subconsciously, your disloyal fingers wrapped around the brass knob, turning it a quarter before a searing heat burned your palm.

You yelped loudly and laughter rang through your cabin, a sadistic sound that made your blood freeze. You stepped back again, nearly tripping over the ball of yarn as you sank into your chair.

“I won’t leave until you open this door.” The voice grew stern and you felt a tear slip past your lashes, the fear encompassing you. Between shaky breaths, you gathered yourself before throwing another yule log onto the fire. The ashes swirled as the logs popped and snapped because of the blistering heat. Your stew was growing cold, the forgotten glass of wassail sat on your counter, and the creaks of the creature outside grew louder and more impatient with each passing minute.

“Let me in.” The voice sounded tired and frustrated as it continued to plead, a pitiful scratch followed the request.

“I won’t!” You shouted into the brisk night air, and the creature hummed.

“You will.” The creature growled and the candles you’d lit flickered out, leaving you in darkness. Your cat yowled before racing into your bathroom, the clatter of things falling led you to believe she had jumped into your shower. The pounding on the door was louder now, more demanding, you covered your ears and curled into yourself, tucking your legs to your chest in fear. Suddenly the pounding stopped, the porch creaked again, and then you could discern a second set of footsteps.

“I told you to wait.�� Natasha.

“I couldn’t help myself Natty.” The other voice sounded soft and playful.

“You’ll have your turn.” Natasha hissed and you nearly flew to the door to open it at the sound of her voice.

“Natasha!” You screamed and their hushed voices stopped. The darkness seemed to heighten your senses, you swore you could hear them both breathing heavily on the other side of the door.

“Let me in darling.” Natasha turned the doorknob impatiently and you paused, recalling the salt and mistletoe. You kicked the salt aside and took a deep breath, your hand resting on the brass knob as Natasha turned it once more.

“Just you.” Your voice was shaky and brimming with fear. Natasha laughed softly and turned the knob once more.

“Just me.” Little did you know, she was crossing her fingers between her back, her lips curled into a sinister grin as her friend hovered over her shoulder. You opened the door slowly, peeking through the crack to see Natasha standing innocently, alongside another beautiful woman. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of the two. Natasha looked the same, her red hair tied back in a loose braid, green eyes sparkling in the moonlight. She looked like a vixen, her white teeth shining in the soft firelight that slipped through your cracked door.

“This is Wanda, she won’t hurt you.” Natasha stepped aside, and you got your first good look at your tormentor. She had dark hair that hung loosely around her round face, her hands were locked together in front of her. But what truly caught your attention was her face, her eyes were green like Natasha’s but they were wider, more doe-eyed. She had full pink lips that curled into a grin as she noticed your prolonged stare.

“It’s freezing out here.” Natasha hinted at you to let them in, making a show of rubbing her hands together.

“Come in.” You threw all inhibitions to the wind as you let the door swing open and stepped aside. The two stepped in quickly and you shut the door behind them, Natasha paused under the mistletoe, reaching up to tap it lightly. The bundle of leaves swung with the disturbance and you watched it, swallowing thickly as Natasha turned her attention to you. Wanda stood looking into your fire, her neck craning down as she watched the flames lick the logs.

“How festive,” Natasha murmured, reaching out and cupping your face and you found yourself leaning into her touch, despite the coolness of her palms and the sharpness of her claws.

“I missed you.” You whispered as she touched her forehead to yours, red whisps of hair slipping from her braid as she did so.

“I’m here,” Natasha spoke softly, her lips brushing yours as she did so, her thumb brushing over your ear lobe tenderly. She leaned forward and sealed her lips with yours, setting a slow and sensual pace as her arms circled around you, pulling you flush against her.

“Wow get a room.” Wanda scoffed, whirling around on her heel and smirking as the two of you broke apart.

“Can we eat? I’m starving.” Wanda’s green eyes glowed in the firelight, she licked her lips and the fear that was hiding inside of you was ignited again.

“I could eat.” Natasha shrugged, her own gaze languid but lurking beneath you could sense that familiar darkness. Something told you they weren’t talking about your stew, you slipped out of Natasha’s grasp and moved through the small space to grab your drink. You gulped down a few long sips, the auburn liquid slipping past your lips and dripping down your chin. Natasha sighed loudly, walking to Wanda and rubbing her back.

“I’m famished.” You made eye contact with each of them, blinking slowly as the two broke into sly grins.

“Come here, sweet girl.” Natasha crooned and you slowly padded over to her, your confidence fading with every step. Wanda bit her lip, her sharp fangs protruding as she did so. You wouldn’t be surprised if she had a forked tongue as well, maybe even a pair of leathery wings folded behind her back. Once you were an arm's length away, Natasha grabbed your wrist and reeled you in, kissing your jaw as her hands cradled the back of your neck and wrapped around your waist. Your eyes fluttered closed as you basked in Natasha’s affections, her claws scratching your back softly.

“Give me a turn Natty.” Wanda whimpered and your eyes flew open, meeting her green ones as she placed her chin on Natasha’s shoulder. Wanda’s warm breath fanned over your lips, her long lashes batting as she watched your mouth drop open. Natasha’s lips had found your collarbone, her sharp teeth scraping against soft warm skin.

“When I’m done, you’ll never forget who you belong to.” Natasha hissed against your skin and Wanda giggled, leaning forward and pressing her lips to yours just as Natasha broke your skin. A hot trail of blood slipped down between the valley of your breasts, staining your shirt as it blazed a trail down your body. You gasped against Wanda’s open mouth, her laughter cut through the tension as she cupped the side of our face softly.

Her lips found yours again and you honed your focus in on kissing her, your tongues mingling as your heads turned to reach deeper into one another. Meanwhile, Natasha had sunk onto her knees, resting between you and Wanda as Wanda’s own hands greedily tugged at the hem of your white blouse. Natasha was busy pulling your pants down, along with your underwear, her cold hands roaming along the expanse of your thighs. Wanda broke the kiss so she could pull your shirt off, leaving you completely exposed to the women. She groaned as she cupped your breasts, smearing your own blood across your skin as she leaned in and took a pert nipple between her teeth, biting down softly. You threw your head back and arched into her, Natasha’s finger traced along your labia, smearing your arousal as she watched you and Wanda from below.

“Fuck, you look so perfect like this, covered in blood, being such a good girl for us.” Natasha groaned as she sunk a finger into your heat. You whimpered, your hand clutching the back of Wanda’s head as you struggled to meet Natasha’s gaze. Wanda switched breasts, her green eyes lidded as she savored you, her cold hands skating along your sides. Natasha’s own lips latched onto your neglected clit, suckling softly as Wanda returned to your lips, kissing you deeply. Natasha added another finger, slowly curling her digits to massage the rough spot inside of you that she knew drove you crazy. Your knees buckled and you nearly lost your balance, Natasha chuckled as Wanda steadied you, her fingers digging into your shoulders. Natasha continued her ministrations, feeling your pussy clench down on her fingers as Wanda stripped off her clothes.

“Nat, please. I need you so bad.” You whimpered as Natasha’s fingers picked up their pace, her thumb finding your clit once more. Wanda was nearly nude now, her teeth shimmering in the firelight as she leaned in to place fiery kisses along the column of your throat, your head was thrown back in ecstasy. The tight knot in your stomach was becoming unbearable, and the ache between your legs seemed insatiable. Natasha’s fingers held a brutal pace, the loud noise of her fingers sinking into your cunt spurring her on. Wanda’s fingers found your neglected clit, nearly matching the pace that Natasha had set.

“Go ahead sweet girl, come for us.” Wanda bit down on your ear lobe, her lips pressed against the side of your neck. That was all you needed to hear before tipping over the edge, your legs shaking as your eyes rolled back and a wave of pleasure washed over you. Natasha slowly let you come down from your high as Wanda peppered kisses across your collarbones, whispering praises as your heart rate returned to a normal rhythm. You felt like the room was spinning as Natasha cupped your chin in her hand, a smug grin smeared on her face.

“Let's go to the bedroom huh?” Natasha’s brow raised suggestively and you hummed in agreement, eager for what was to come next. The three of you staggered into your bedroom, crowding into the queen-sized mattress that occupied most of the room. Natasha reclined against the pillows, patting the space between her legs and pointing at Wanda, who leaped at the opportunity. Wanda laid back against Natasha’s chest, her head notching between Natasha’s neck and shoulder perfectly, the sight made you jealous. You pushed your lower lip out in a pout, unsure where you were supposed to lay, what you were supposed to do. Natasha laughed, her long slender fingers skating down to stroke Wanda’s glistening pussy, Wanda moaned, burying her face into Natasha’s neck. You watched as Natasha’s fingers slipped into Wanda’s heat effortlessly, her arousal shimmering in the moonlight.

“Come here, sweetie.” Natasha hummed and you climbed onto the bed, slowly crawling between Wanda’s legs. You rested on your elbows, watching as Natasha’s fingers slowly pumped into Wanda’s cunt.

“Go ahead, take care of her.” Natasha withdrew her fingers, a stretchy string of Wanda’s wetness still connecting them. Wanda whined at the loss of contact, her eyes screwed shut as her hips rose from the mattress eagerly. Your mouth watered as you leaned in to place a soft kiss on her clit. Wanda sighed as your tongue lapped at her aching cunt, her hands weaving into your hair to keep you close. Your eyes remained trained on Wanda’s face, which was twisted in pleasure as Natasha’s hands roamed her body and your tongue delved into her.

“‘m close Natty.” Wanda cried out, her hips grinding against your face as you looked at Natasha, trying to see what she wanted. Natasha nodded at you, a proud gleam in her eyes as you focused on bringing Wanda over the edge. Your fingers sank into her heat, slowly setting a steady rhythm.

“Tell me about it, Wanda, what’s she doing to you?” Natasha asked and your cunt throbbed, as Wanda whimpered as her fingers pulled at your hair desperately.

“S-she’s… her fingers are inside of me.” Wanda stuttered as you kept your pace, eager to bring her pleasure.

“Go on…” Natasha sighed, her hands cupping Wanda’s breasts, her fingers pinching her nipples. Wanda gasped, her hips jutting off of the bed and pressing into your mouth. You moaned into her, your mouth watering as you continued to eat her out.

“Natty please, I’m so very close, please let me come.” Wanda yelped as your teeth scraped against her sensitive bud. You felt her clench down on your fingers, her leg twitching as her orgasm built up inside her.

“Go ahead Wanda, come for us, baby.” Natasha hissed into Wanda’s ear and the woman screeched, her thighs clamping down around your head, her fingers pulling at your hair as she rode out her high. You sighed contently as her body shook with tremors, you gave her clit one last kitten lick before departing and she whimpered, at the stimulation.

“Come here,” Wanda spoke between pants and you crawled up her body, your head spinning as she reeled you in for a searing kiss.

“How did she taste (Y/n)?” Natasha’s hand rubbed your back languidly and you broke the kiss to respond.

“Like candy.” You teased and Wanda’s nose scrunched at the jest.

“You surprised me tonight sweet girl.” Natasha hummed, toying with a strand of your hair as you laid down on Wanda’s chest, your own fingers busying themselves in Wanda’s curls.

“It could be like this every night….for a price,” Natasha mumbled, and Wanda chuckled darkly.

“I might just take you up on that offer.” You sighed as Wanda’s nails traced patterns on your back.

“Think about it, we’ll be waiting.” Your eyes slipped closed, tangled in their warmth despite the cold outside. You knew you’d wake up alone, and you knew that if you agreed to their terms, your life would change. For the better? Likely not, but you found yourself weighing your odds. You might just agree if it meant you would spend every night like this.

Tags:

@natashaxwife

532 notes · View notes

hgwellswh13 · 11 days ago

Text

249K notes · View notes

hgwellswh13 · 11 days ago

Text

I have some news for members of the united states armed forces who feel like they are pawns in a political game and their assignments being unnecessary.

86K notes · View notes

hgwellswh13 · 11 days ago

Text

335 notes · View notes

hgwellswh13 · 12 days ago

Text

LEAVE ME ALONE

summary — to the majority of essex, leighton murray is an unapproachable bitch. to you, she’s the only person in a crowded room.

warning(s) — friends with benefits, mutual feelings, alludes to pining/yearning, sorority events, college, slight dom/sub dynamics, dom leighton murray, closeted leighton murray, sneaking away, light banter, biting, hickies, possessive leighton, mean leighton, kissing, dirty talk, implied voyeurism, 69ing, fingering (r!receiving), degradation, punishment aspects, nipple stimulation, forced orgasm, mutual orgasm, overstimulation, porn with plot, aftercare, men/minors dni

authors note — inspired by leave me alone, very specifically ‘line my lips just to match my nipples’… enjoy some babie leighton smut

“No way Leighton Murray actually showed up.” A strawberry blonde in a pink dress chirped at your side, her eyes wide as they took in the sight of Essex College’s very own blonde bombshell stepping past the threshold of the sliding glass doors. The incandescent sunlight cascaded down on her platinum locks with such lightness that it gleamed almost like a halo from a distance. Her ever sharp brown eyes were dangerous as they searched the yard, unmaking anyone she spent more than five seconds analyzing with her lips pulled taut into a neutral expression of indifference.

“Come on, she’s not that bad.” You interject weakly, your head lulling to the side until your gaze can find the girls scrutinizing eyes. You don’t know why you’re so quick to defend Leighton — who’s pointedly avoided glancing in your direction — but you do, and it leaves a bad taste in the pledges mouth.

Her eyes haven’t wandered to the details of your dress. They’re pretty, you’ll admit it, but they haven’t found the gold membership badge pinned to your sweetheart neckline, accented with a classy string of pearls. She’s unaware of your role in the sorority, entirely focused on Leighton. It doesn’t pain you in the slightest to scratch her name off the mental list of pledges you’ve memorized in preparation for this event.

“She’s practically Godzilla.” The girl — Kaylee Towers, a freshman pledge with a stellar recommendation list — said in response, still oblivious to how she was talking herself out of any chance of making it into Kappa. “If Godzilla had pretty blonde hair, I mean.”

“Complementing her kind of negates the entire point of sulking over her presence, doesn’t it?” You raised a single questioning eyebrow, further craning your body toward Kaylee. The shift in stance had pointed your chest in her direction, and when her eyes trailed down to the neckline of your pink dress, a gleam of satisfaction sparked in your settled gaze when she paled.

“I-I wasn’t—“ It was entirely discomforting to watch her flounder beside you on the grass; never the type to gravel in somebody else’s misfortunes even if embarrassment was warranted.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to stand beneath the weight of pointless backtracking for long, being called away toward the stairs leading up to the deck by your fellow sorer and Kappa’s esteemed, motivated president. Leighton wasn’t at the top anymore, no longer glancing down at the mingling bodies and warm smiles of performative friendliness scattered around the backyard as you took them slowly, with a slight swing in your hips that was probably unnecessary.

You hadn’t been paying attention to the music that was playing in the background. It was soft but just loud enough to provide a safety net in moments where conversation dwindled. When it cut out abruptly, and Madison clapped her hands together three times, every single set of eyes on the premise was on you — all except one chilling pair.

Leighton hovered in the back corner. The baby blue blazer draped around her shoulders brought out the clarity in her complexion. Leighton didn’t have perfect skin. She’d never attended class sporting pimple patches as evidence of any hormonal breakouts, but there are times when you look at her, and you can see the texture in her skin. Her pores look blurred from where you stand, nerves bubbling with familiar attentiveness. She’s not looking at anything in particular, you trace her gaze to the side of the house where a white fence is overgrown with rose vines.

“Hello! Welcome to Kappa — where sisterhood is sparkly, sacred, and so much more than just matching sweatshirts, okay?” Madison began spiritedly, and while the painstakingly curated hook had the designated effect on the majority of pledges, Leighton wasn’t captivated by the stereotypical cutesy inflection. You’d suggested that Madison refine the speech, that maybe it was time to down back how much they really leaned into the whole shtick of it all. The corners of your lips twitch at Leighton’s cold indifference. She’s the only one you’re looking for. “I’m Madison Hart, Kappa’s president! Now, before I get too carried away bragging about how amazing this year is going to be — and trust me, it is — for those of you who make it through initiation, at least.” Madison giggled. I’d like to introduce you to Y/N Y/L/N. Unfortunately, our Vice President couldn’t be here with us today, but Y/N is our absolutely amazing treasure, and she was willing to come in her place. She keeps our books tighter than last year’s formal dresses and yes, she did get a five in AP Calc.” Madison smiled, but your face flamed with heat. You hadn’t known she was going to include that. It wasn’t mentioned any of the seven times she made you listen to this while over the course of the last week.

Out of the corner of your eye, because it was impossible not to be drawn to Leighton when the pastel blue of her blazer stuck out amongst the crowd of whites and bubblegum pinks starkly, you could see her lips quirk upwards, but her eyes never lingered toward Madison’s voice for even a second. It bothered you, but you don’t know why. This is typical Leighton behavior.

“To all our pledges, I cannot wait to get to know each and every one of you…assuming you survive the next two weeks. I’m kidding! Kind of. Anyways, get ready for glitter, giggles, and growth, because you’re not just joining a sorority— you’re joining the sorority!” There’s such a stark difference between someone like you and someone like Madison, but you don’t have the attention span to consider where the vault line rests. “Now, before I let you all get back to mingling, Y/N has a few things to say!”

You smiled softly, waving your hand at the crowd. Your eyes pass over Leighton again, unconsciously, you don’t even mean to, but it pangs your heart slightly to realize she’s still absorbed in the rose petals on her right.

“Hi everyone! I’m seriously so excited to see all of your faces. It makes all the spreadsheet stress and hours on Excel worth it.” Your lips curve into a gentle grin, one that conveys just how serious you take this event. “I’m incredibly lucky to be serving as treasurer for the second year with Kappa. Now, I know money talk isn’t exactly the glamorous part of sorority life, but I promise— it’s what keeps this all running. My role is to make sure that we can take quality sisterhood retreats as well as maintain our traditional events. Kappa has been a delightful presence in my life, and I aim to provide the same experiences for you and our chapter again this year.” You pause for a moment, letting your eyes sweep over the faces in the crowd.

A few of the girls you recognize from a handful of random classes, but nobody sticks out like Leighton does. Your eyes land on her again, and this time she’s looking directly at you. Her stare is chilling, but not in a way that turns you cold and hollow. She fills you with warmth and butterflies; you know she’d hate that if you ever told her.

When Leighton realizes that you haven’t paused to give the crowd a chance to absorb the information you’d just projected with ease, her blonde brow raises questioningly; challengingly. You swallow thickly, a lump bobbing in your throat when your mouth is suddenly dry in an instant.

If Leighton notices the effects of her wordless gesture over you, there’s no indication in her stone features that command you keep going at all odds. “So, to our new baby Kappas; you are so welcome here. If you ever need anything — help with dues, advice, or just someone to sit with during a movie night — I’m your girl. This house isn’t just about the events or the merchandise. It’s about real connection, and I cannot wait to see how each and every one of you shine in your own way. Some of you might not be with us at the end of these two weeks, but even your consideration at all is enough for Kappa to welcome you anytime in the future. Welcome home, and please, enjoy the refreshments. There’s more inside if it gets too warm out here.”

Madison waved her hands encouragingly, and the music started playing again. You barely had a chance to step off the stairs before conversation swept you up, carrying you through the backyard in a loop until you ended up in the living room with a bottle of water and three girls surrounding you cheerfully. You didn’t know how it was accomplished; how one person finished with you and another swept you up in a second like they’d been waiting in line for a turn.

Leighton somehow evaded you during the entire ordeal. One minute she’d still been standing beside the gate in the corner, and the next she’d been nowhere in sight. You’d be lying if you denied that your heart had sank to your belly thinking she’d left without saying anything, but quickly was that thought buried. You hadn’t let yourself dwell on the thought of her, but then it genuinely had fallen away from your mind, and all that consumed you was getting to know these pledges so when she did cross your gaze again, the breath was stolen from your lungs.

Somehow, there was an angel looking out for you in that single moment. As Leighton crossed your path, her head inclining toward the stairs that she knew led to your bedroom, the three pledges in front of you glanced at the television screen that Madison had set to project a clock. They excused themselves politely, like the majority of the other pledges had done, and you’d taken advantage of the three seconds of isolation you found in that moment to escape upstairs to find Leighton.

It didn’t take much scrounging to find. All of your bedroom doors had been tightly closed in preparation of having a few hundred people swarming the backyard and downstairs living areas, but now yours was cracked, a faint glow stretching out into the hallway. Leighton adored the gold wire lamp shaped like a star on your nightstand. It doesn’t shock you to find it on when you push the door open enough to slip inside.

“You came.” You smiled tenderly, your features melting as you took in the sight of Leighton in your bedroom, dressed up for an event that was so entirely you, and so distinctly not her. Leighton is silly, and soft, and incredibly stubborn, and sure she’s a legacy socialite who belongs at this function more than you do, but it’s not her. Leighton is sneaky hookups in the pouring rain. She’s black eyeliner and lip liner that matches the darker hue around her nipple when they peddle so prettily beneath your fingers. Leighton is tight cuddling in bed, and only socks in the dorm hallway not slippers, never slippers. Leighton Murray doesn’t own a pair of slippers and she hasn;t since she was six. You don’t know how you know that, or if Leighton even realizes you remember her telling you one time and one time only.

Leighton shrugged, her fingers toying with the shade over your lamp. Her chronic nonchalance unsettles you deeply, even after all this time fooling around in the dark. “I wanted to see what it was all about.”

“You’re sure that’s all you came for?” Your lips pull taunt; considering. You know her better than that, you know that she didn’t drag her ass to this sorority house just to watch you from a distance for hours. She’d done a lot of things for you, but wasting her time is not something you’d ever ask. Your intentions were clear when you’d asked her over, but you’d expected her later on, halfway through, or even not at all. But here she was, dressed to impress, standing in your bedroom, flush from the heat of the sun on her skin for hours with no true purpose.

Leightons fingers curl around the threaded chord beneath the lampshade and in a second your bedroom is drenched in darkness, the blinds closed, blocking out the still bright abyss of blue beyond the window. “No.” She answers and your core clenches at her sultry tone, dampness pooling in your panties as she stalks forward with seduction in her every soft footstep.

“Oh?” You lead, and Leighton scoffs as she closes the gap between your bodies, her hands settling heavily on your hips, attempting to claim you with just a simple touch. Her possession is addicting. When she’s not around, the weight of her hands on your hips, on your waist, on your inner thighs, and your neck… it lives in your memory, replays in your head. Leighton knows that. She can tell just by looking at you right now that you’ll still be thinking of this moment later — this simple moment before she’s even done anything to your body.

“Do you know how hot you look in this dress?” Leighton groans, dragging her teeth down your neck when she cranes her head to fall into the pocket of darkness between your jaw and shoulder. Your hair tickles her cheek as she sucks a purple bruise into the crevice of your neck, and the hairs on the back of your neck prickle in response to the sensation as you sigh contentedly. “So fucking hot.”

“Yeah?” You whisper, your eyes fluttering closed as your head lulled sideways in submission, providing more surface area for Leightons lips to taste in her descent. She kisses down the sweetheart neckline of the pink dress, and her lips are moist, soft, even the nude lipstick she wears feels like velvet as she drags it across your skin tantalizingly.

“Yeah.” Leighton confirmed as she pulled away, a lustful haze over her eyes as her blown pupils corrupted her brown stare until glittering black stared back at you. “But I need you to take it off. Right now. If you think I didn’t see you shaking your ass when you climbed those stairs, you’re fucking delusional.” The heat of her accusation leaves goosebumps on your skin, and you shudder as you comply.

“I know you saw me.” You whispered as you spun around, sweeping your hair to one side of your neck in favor of exposing the hidden zipper in the back. Madison had needed to help you get into it in the first place, but Leightons fingers felt better at the nape of your neck, toying with the clasp of your necklace.

“Pearls are a girl's best friend, you know.” Leighton murmured against your skin, stepping closer until the soft fabric of her blazer brushed against your exposed shoulders. A tremble jostled your frame, weakening your knees.

Your eyebrows furrowed through the haze of your arousal, your head craning just slightly to steal a glance at Leighton over your shoulder. “I thought that was diamonds.” You panted breathlessly, your eyes fixed on her lips, unable to envision anything other than her pert nipples.

”Not when I’m the one playing with them.” Leighton husked and your eyes fluttered shut, your head falling backwards onto her shoulder as you breathed heavily, your body alight with heat. It was a slight shock when the zipper began to glide down your spine, Leighton deciding to finally begin undressing you when you’d least expected it. “I’ll save that for another time.” Leighton smirked as she stepped away from your body, letting her nimble fingers guide the straps of your dress away from your shoulders until nothing was keeping the fabric on your body.

It pooled around your ankles in loose crumbles and Leighton helped you step out of it with a hand in yours that eagerly led you toward the bed in the center of the room, unable to hold herself back anymore when it had been hours upon hours of being on her best behavior, something that Leighotn’s admittedly not very good at. She knows how to make up for it though.

She spins you around with ease, trapping you against her chest until she can walk the both of you back into the bed, falling on top of your frame with a graceful ease. The second your body meets the mattress she’s grabbing your wrists and guiding them over your head, holding them down whilst her lips press into yours. The weight of her on top of you, fully clothed while the only garment you still sport is your lace panties that are undeniably sodden through completely.

Her kiss is enough to break you beneath her hands, every thought leaving your brain until all you can consider is that everything with Leighton feels perfectly right and earned. Her fingers slide away from your wrists when she gathers that you’re not going to be moving without her consent anytime soon, a dazzling smirk on her features as she pulls away from the bruising kiss you’d shared to instead press her fingertips into your clit above your panties.

“Fuck, you’re so god damn wet.” Leighton cursed, easing her fingers into small tight circles that were annoyingly soft against your core. She grinned when you huffed probing your entrance when your eyes screwed shut in frustration. “Does this get you off? Getting fucked like a slut while your sisters are still downstairs entertaining pledges?”

“Does this get you off? Fucking a girl with people downstairs? None of them aware of the fact that the Leighton Murray is a lesbian.” Your eyes burn with fire, passion, desire. They snap open at her teasing, her practiced degrading that incorporates the slightest illusion of voyeurism. Your rebuttal is a low blow, one that you’d typically refrain from letting past your lips, but you have no control over what you’re saying, and you know that it’ll piss her off enough to actually get working on your body that’s eager to be completely unmade and re-written by her touch.

Leighton knows that you’d never rush her out of the closet. She knows that you have no desire to make things public, not when you’d rather keep any and all relationships a few hundred feet away from the girls you share a house with. You adore them, but any conversation regarding romance doesn’t end for at least three hours on a good day and selfishly you want to keep Leighton all to yourself.

“You’ll say anything to get fucked, won’t you?” Leighton groans before she smashes her lips against yours again, all while easing your panties to the side and sinking two fingers into your walls. The whine that falls off of your lips is entirely pathetic, and it fuels Leightons ego as she doubles her efforts to a quick climax. She knows you hate when she forces it out of you, when she takes advantage of how well she knows your body and works you up fast and quick. “When are you going to learn?” She pouts condescendingly, her lips downturns into a pout that is so painfully sweet it makes your eyes glimmer with tears because you know how insincere it is. Leighton lives for these moments when you give her exactly what she claims she doesn’t want, though both of you know deflection is her default.

“Fuck!” You whine, fists grabbing handfuls of the pastel yellow sheets beneath your body. You wriggle beneath her, fighting to escape the intense pleasure she unleashes on your cunt as her thumb rubs over your clit harshly. It’s only a minute longer before you explode around her fingers with spasming walls. “Fuck, fuck!” You clasp a hand over your mouth, paranoid about how loud you let yourself be when people are around. You might make quips and digs about the risky situations you get yourselves into, but neither one of you wants to face the music if anyone comes knocking.

Leighton doesn’t make any effort to overstimulate you, which immediately relaxes you on the bed as you pant for breath with flushed cheeks. She strips out of her pantsuit at the edges of your bed, looming over your sprawled out frame with confidence and conviction that reminds you how much power she holds over you. Maybe there's not much that separates you and Leighton besides a few points on your GPA’s,

“God, I want you to eat my pussy.” She groans as she takes in the sight to your body, her hands bracing on your hips as she lies ned forward. “But first, we need to take these off of you.” She notes, and you lift your hips cooperatively for her, shivering when cold air blows against your warm core. Your hips jump and Leighton smirks, her hands trailing up until they find your breasts, rolling your nipples between her fingertips.

Your own eyes glance at her exposed body. Her nipples are pebbled already, a nude turned pinky color rimmed with a darker toned neutral, and the insides of her thighs gleam with arousal that’s wept from her entrance, ruined her panties, and begun to drip down the insides of her thighs when she pressed her legs together. Her composure is better than yours, but not even Leighton can resist the feelings you spark over her body without even trying.

She crawls over your body seductively, her damp thighs dragging along the curves of your waist, You huff in stifled amusement when she turns around over your face, her cunt hovering over your mouth, her ass attempting sight above your eyes, Your hands held her thighs, pulling her down onto your face without her compliance. Leighton said nothing about your eagerness, too consumed with the broad strokes of pleasure your tongue pulled from her core abruptly.

“Fuck.” She breathed as she fell forward, sinking down father and farther until her head was between your thighs, her hands prying your thighs open until she could plunge her tongue into your entrance where her fingers had just been, easing you through the brief moment of overstimulation when her tongue flicked your sensitive clit for the first time. “You’re still so wet.” Her words reverberate through your clit, and your head spins at the sensations shooting through your body.

Your own tongue laps at her core, at her clit specifically before it sinks to her entrance, dipping in until the tangy nectar she drips coats your tongue in thickness that’s not easily dissolved. You don’t care, lapping and slurping at her with frivolous motions that become uncoordinated the farther she works you up with her own tongue between your thighs.

Leighton pulls away from your pussy when your tongue plunges against her g-spot, pressing into the spongy part of her walls with strained efforts to even reach that far at all. “Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” She groans before she dives back in, taking one a single deep breath before she’s attacking you with ambition she somehow didn’t possess before and you didn’t think it possible now.

“Cum with me, cum with me.” She pants against your core, her nails digging into your thighs as her hips jerk across your face, seeking even more pleasure from you though you don’t complain, you’d never complain about having her thighs wrapped around her head and her warm core on your tongue heavily and fully. ”Come on, baby, come with me.”

It doesn’t take much encouragement, or really any at all; Leighton’s tongue is more than enough of a motivator for you as it licks a broad stripe from your weeping, clenching, quivering entrance to your sensitive clit before she creates a suction around your engorged bundle of nerves and sucks deeply, sending stars shooting through your vision. Your nails dig into her thighs the same way hers dig into yours, and your hips are wide on the mattress as they squirm and attempt to hump, though the weight of her on top of you prevents your body from being able to do much without her permission.

You work Leighton through her orgasm as she works you through yours, trailing kisses down your thighs when she leaves your clit alone for the night decisively. You don’t take the same initiative, licking soft stripes and strokes across her thighs until they gleam with evidence of your saliva instead of her arousal.

Leighton slides off of you after a moment, her chest rising and falling heavily as she settles into the pillows beside you. Once upon a time, she’d adamantly rejected staying the night with you after, but the sun has fallen behind trees now, and neither one of you are keen on another round, but she doesn’t make any indication of getting up to crawl back to her down. Instead, she reaches beneath her body and grabs the corner of your comforter, pulling it around her body with enough maneuvering to have you huffing and doing the same, figuring if one of you is going to be comfortable it should at least be you in your own bed.

“You’re staying?” You ask with heavy eyelids. You’ve been going nonstop lately trying to see this event through, but now that it is over, just another fond memory to look back on in a couple of years down the road, you’re burnt out and exhausted.

“Mhm. That okay?” Leighton always looked so insecure when you caught her in moments like this, and it makes your heart ache, because someone so talented and sweet and deserving of good things in life should be the last person constantly torn apart with worry that she’s not enough.

“Yeah.” You answer, because you would’ve never dreamed of saying no to begin with, but it feels too daunting to tell her that, so you don’t, and Leighton might never know you were thinking it at all. ”You should pee. I should pee.”

You roll over onto Leighton’s chest, your head burrowed against her breaths comfortably as you sigh dramatically. “We could always just stay here and take our chances with a UTI.”

”Chlamydia scared me into safe sex habits. Get up.” She settles you with a stern glare, even though you look so precious draped across her chest, and you find yourself complying with a dramatic sigh.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t know sleeping with women could still lead to STDs.” You scoffed softly, clambering out of bed with her, your hand finding hers instinctively. If Leighton thought anything of your clinginess, she didn’t say anything as she led you to the ensuite bathroom you’d been lucky enough to claim.

“I adamantly denied being a lesbian until I met you, and then I spiraled for two months until I finally had the balls to go up to you at that party. I mean, it was probably only a month and two weeks, but I had to wait for the Chlamydia to clear up.” She mutters, and you wonder if anybody would even believe you if you went and ran your mouth on campus about Leighton Murray’s sex live and sexuality, it certainly clashed with her reputation on campus, but it just made perfect sense to you. Everything about her makes perfect sense to you.

”Yes, thank you for that.” You mused sarcastically, shivering as you sat down on the toilet, cursing yourself for not at least grabbing a change of clothes from the dresser when you’d stumbled past it. “It’s freezing in here.”

“No, it’s not. You’re just always cold after.” Leighton rolled her eyes, and you pouted petulantly at her. When you’d first met, she never would batted an eye at whether you were cold or not after she’d just entirely recreated your definition of euphoria, but then you’d softened her heart, and now she can’t help but think of all the little things that make you who you are.

“Stop knowing things about me.” You smile softly, and Leighton smirks as she switches places with you on the toilet, something that makes you giggle with a domestic warmth before you retreat to the sink, pumping two handfuls of coconut scented soap into your palm. ”Do you want sweats or shorts?”

“Panties.” Leighton answered and you rolled your eyes but nodded, turning toward the bedroom to grab the clothes that she’d requested for the night ahead of the both of you.

377 notes · View notes

hgwellswh13 · 13 days ago

Text

I am so proud of the Hungarian ppl right now.

It was the 30th Pride.

It was banned.

200.000 people were there.

Thank you for this boost today. Thank you for showing up and standing up for our right!

Photo cr.: Telex.hu

19K notes · View notes

hgwellswh13 · 22 days ago

Note

Could you write a fic where Regina and the reader hate each other and they always flirt really aggressively and one day they can’t take it anymore and hook up?

The Angel and the Devil (Regina George X Reader Smut)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: You and Regina fight with aggressive flirting and hungry looks, always making tensions unbearably thick. When Regina invites you to her halloween party, the two of you finally decide to do something about this tension.

A/N: au where the halloween party is at regina’s instead of aaron’s. havent seen the musical movie yet but it looks like renee’s regina’s wearing an angel costume, so whichever regina you’re picturing (renee or rachel) is wearing an angel costume. feel like there’s not much hate in this hate fuck fic but oh well

C/W: mean!dom!regina a bit lol, fingering (reader receiving), pussy slapping (just like once), degrading, hate fucking ig, finger sucking, cum eating ig idk man

***

You had no idea why you were here right now. You could’ve been home or at another party. Hell, you could’ve gone trick or treating even though you were eighteen and didn’t have a little brother or sister to use as an excuse to go door to door for candy.

But instead, you were standing in Regina George’s massive living room, wondering why she invited you to her party, why you came, and how long it would take before you were drunk out of your mind.

You barely recognized anyone here; you and Regina didn’t exactly run in the same crowds. You were able to name a passing face every now and then, but that was about it.

“Well, well.” You could hear the smirk on Regina’s lips before you saw it, whipping around to see her standing behind you. “I’m surprised you actually came. Thought you’d be too busy doing… well, whatever it is losers do.”

“If you didn’t think I’d come, why bother inviting me?” You asked with a sneer. She shrugged, hands planted on her hips as she leaned in close to you.

“Just curious.” You stared at each other for a minute, and you gulped at the close proximity. “Nice costume,” Regina said before walking off, wings almost hitting you as she turned around. It was then that you realized that, in a way, you and Regina were matching this Halloween. While she was dressed as an angel with somewhat extravagant wings, you were decked in red and devil horns.

It was funny, considering that half the time, you thought of Regina as the devil.

***

A few hours later, and you couldn’t help but notice that Regina was always nearby. It made sense, considering this was her house and her party. But you couldn’t find an explanation for why every time you’d accidentally glance at her, you’d find that she was already looking at you.

Feeling small under Regina’s gaze, you felt the need to hide. Your best bet was finding a bathroom, but you didn’t know where one was. You weren’t about to ask Regina, but you also didn’t want to be caught cluelessly snooping around.

“Hey!” You almost had to shout over the music, getting the attention of some girl you knew from one of your classes. “Do you know where the bathroom is?”

“No, sorry.” She said with a lopsided frown and a shrug.

“I’ll take you.” You almost jumped in surprise at the sudden voice, looking over your shoulder to see the one person you were trying to get away from. Regina stared down at you, jerking her head toward the bathroom as she bit her lip. “Follow me.” She said, turning around without giving you a chance to decline.

You followed the blonde up the stairs, going down one of the many hallways in the house. As you walked, crowds of people turned into stragglers until you and Regina were the only ones there.

She opened a door and stepped to the side, waiting for you to walk in. You did so nervously, becoming confused when you entered the room. It wasn’t a bathroom; it was a massive bedroom. If you had to guess, it was Regina’s.

“Bathroom’s on the left.” Regina’s voice was close, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she was standing directly behind you. She shut the door, making you shiver, and you quickly scurried off to the bathroom, not missing Regina’s small huff of laughter.

You locked the door behind you, marveling at the interior. Whoever designed this bathroom certainly had taste. The bathtub had jets, the shower had two different showerheads, and the mirror above the sink was lit from behind. And even though it was dark outside, you could see a skylight in the middle of the ceiling.

You surveyed yourself in the mirror, seeing that the heat in your cheeks from Regina’s close proximity was evident on your face. You splashed some cold water on your face, doing your best not to mess up your eye makeup or lipstick. Regina was probably still out there, not trusting you to be alone in her room.

After a few minutes of just standing in front of the sink, you took a deep breath and left the bathroom. It was no surprise to you to see Regina waiting for you.

“Thanks.” You muttered, ready to go back downstairs to the party.

But it seemed that Regina had other plans. She grabbed your elbow to pull you away from the bedroom door before pushing you against the wall.

“And where do you think you’re going?” She asked in a sultry voice, tilting her head to the side.

“Downstairs.” You responded meekly, unable to keep your eyes from trailing down her body. For a lot of girls, Halloween was a time of year to dress slutty without being judged for it. You and Regina were two of those girls, and you certainly weren’t judging.

Based on the hungry look in her eyes, lip pulled between her teeth, you were guessing that she wasn’t judging you either.

There was a wordless exchange between the two of you. After all the staring and insults, you might as well let some steam out of the pot. You were alone; it would be your little secret.

One second, you and Regina were staring at each other with desire, and the next, you were pinned to the wall, making out with the blonde girl that you loathe so much.

As much as you hated to admit it, you were like putty in her hands. Regina’s hands wandered over every square inch of your body that she could reach. One decided to settle on your left tit, squeezing and pawing at you through your satin dress while the other gripped your hip to keep you in place. You moaned into her mouth, body squirming and begging for more.

“Needy, needy girl.” Regina’s tone was condescending, making you whine. You simultaneously hated and loved the effect that she was having on you.

As if reading your mind, Regina’s hand that lay on your boob trailed down your tummy and to the hem of your dress. She bunched the fabric up around your hips, a smirk growing on her lips that were messily smeared with lip gloss.

“Aw, it matches your dress.” She cooed, playing with the lace of your red panties. She looked up, reveling in the shy expression on your face. “I bet your bra’s red too.”

You didn’t bother to answer. Regina’s attention returned to what was between your quivering thighs. A finger landed on your clothed clit, rubbing in slow circles and making you shiver.

“More.” You whimpered. “Please, Regina.”

“Look at you.” She responded, hooking her finger on the seat of your panties to pull them to the side. “Being so polite for me. So wet, too.”

Her hand cupped your pussy, a finger teasing your entrance as she gaged your reaction. You sighed in content, screwing your eyes shut and throwing your head back. But your eyes snapped open, a sharp gasp escaping your lips when Regina slapped your aching cunt. The hand on your hip gripped your chin, forcing you to look at her.

“Eyes on me.” She demanded, finger gently trailing back to your hole. “Gonna be a good girl for me?”

You nodded embarrassingly quickly, and she grinned. Satisfied with your answer, Regina decided to finally give you what you were craving and plunged a finger into you. Her strokes were slow, making you whine and buck your hips for more. She decided to be merciful, giving you another finger and pressing your G-spot with every thrust of her hand.

As Regina fingerfucked you, the heel of her palm rubbed your clit furiously. You were having a bit of a hard time keeping your eyes on the blonde, getting too wrapped up in the pleasure she was giving you. Worried your shaky legs might give out, you wrapped an arm around Regina’s shoulders, almost knocking your hand into her giant feathered wings. In response, Regina let go of your face and helped you lift one of your legs to hook around her hip, leaning you more against the wall to keep you upright.

The new angle made you shudder in pleasure, and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. Regina knew, too, because she somehow picked up the already fast pace at which she was thrusting into you.

“Gonna come, sweetheart?” She laughed lightly. “About to come from me playing with your pussy like it’s my little toy? Fucking pathetic.”

“Uh-huh.” You let out a choked moan, hand gripping Regina’s shoulder to try to ground yourself.

“Let go, baby.” Regina cooed. “Come all over my fingers like the desperate little girl you are. You can do it.”

As if your body was waiting for Regina’s permission, the coil inside you snapped, and you came with a breathless moan, your body shaking as you latched onto her for support. She continued her assault on your cunt, fingers pistoning in and out of you and helping your ride out your climax.

When you came down from your high, Regina’s hand left your wet cunt, raising it to your mouth.

“Open.” She softly demanded, watching you eagerly wrap your lips around her fingers that were coated with your arousal. You groaned at the taste, cleaning off her digits with your tongue.

Regina’s fingers left your mouth with a small ‘pop,’ and her thumb swiped against your lip to clean up some smudged lipstick. She fixed the seat of your panties, giving your sensitive cunt a pat before pulling your dress back down into place.

“For the devil, you’re such a good girl for me, L/n.” Regina teased, giving you another hungry look before stepping away.

You watched her open the door, waiting for you to leave first. You were convinced that your legs wouldn’t work, but you were able to stumble out, Regina close behind you.

At least now you know why she invited you.

***

Regina George Taglist: @wedfan2 @pyro-les @natashamaximoff-69

1K notes · View notes

hgwellswh13 · 22 days ago

Text

Full throttle. | N.R

Older!Natasha x Younger!Reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI!, Age gap, bike riding, begging, crying, holding down, fingering, multiple organs, overstimulation

Word count: 2k

A/n: Returning something.

The engine purred beneath them like a living thing, raw and powerful, as the city blurred past in streaks of light. Natasha handled the motorcycle like she was born on it, confident, controlled, dangerous in all the right ways. You sat behind her, arms wrapped tightly around Natasha’s waist, chin just barely brushing the woman’s shoulder as the wind rushed over your bodies.

But the longer you rode, the more distracted you became.

At first, it was just the thrill of the ride, the speed, the scent of leather and fuel, and the way Natasha’s body moved so effortlessly in front of you. But then the vibrations started to settle in, low, constant, and absolutely maddening. The steady hum of the bike beneath you made your thighs clench, your pulse thrum.

You shifted slightly on the seat, pressing closer to Natasha, as if it would help. It didn’t. The denim of your jeans felt suddenly too thick and too thin all at once. You bit your lip and tried to focus on the road, the skyline, anything but the way the vibrations teased you. God, you needed to focus.

But then Natasha shifted gears, and that subtle growl of the bike deepened, richer, rougher, it rolled up through your spine and straight between your legs. Your breath caught, and you had to fight the urge to arch into it. Subtly, too subtly, you hoped, you adjusted your position, just slightly, trying to get the angle right. But it wasn’t enough. The denim, the seat, the teasing hum…it was torture.

Unbearable, delicious torture. And all the while, Natasha didn’t say a word. You tried to convince yourself the older woman hadn’t noticed, she was focused on the road, after all. But Natasha Romanoff was an assassin. She noticed everything.

And she definitely noticed this.

When they finally pulled into the garage under their building, you were practically throbbing with unsatisfied need. Natasha cut the engine, the sudden silence almost deafening in its contrast, and slowly pulled off her helmet, shaking out her hair.

You hadn’t moved. You couldn’t..Not yet.

“You good back there, kotenok?” Natasha asked, voice calm, and..amused. Too amused.

You swallowed hard and slid off the bike, trying to keep your composure. Your legs were a little shaky, but you hoped Natasha wouldn’t notice. (She definitely would.)

“Yeah..” you said, your voice a little too high, too fast. “Just…adrenaline.”

Natasha smirked and turned, stepping close, invading your space like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Mmm.” she hummed, brushing a gloved finger lightly under your chin, tilting it up. “Adrenaline, huh? Not the vibration?”

Your eyes widened. “I- what? No, I didn’t..-“

“You’ve been squirming on the back of that bike since we hit the bridge.” she murmured. “Thought I wouldn’t notice you chasing that little pulse between your legs?”

Heat exploded in your cheeks..and lower, much lower.

“Nat…”

“You think I didn’t plan that route?” Natasha’s voice dropped, smoky and low. “You think I didn’t know what that engine would do to you?”

You froze. “I d-don’t know what you mean, Tasha.”

And that..that, was the final crack. Natasha’s jaw clenched. Because you knew exactly what she meant. And you were still playing dumb. And god.. she loved the fight. But not as much as she loved winning.

Natasha stepped in until her body brushed your front, close enough to trap you without touching. Her breath was warm when she spoke.

“I felt every little shift. Every roll of your hips. You were riding that seat like it could fuck you if you just angled right.”

You whimpered, so soft, like you didn’t even mean to. Natasha smiled slowly. “There she is..”

Your eyes fluttered shut.

“You think you can just walk off my bike, flushed and wet, acting like your pussy wasn’t pulsing the whole time?” Natasha’s voice dipped low. “Sweetheart, I felt it through the seat.”

Another sound left your throat, half breath, half moan. Natasha leaned in and smirked against your ear. “Still don’t know what I mean?”

Your silence was all the answer she needed.

“Good.” Natasha murmured. “Because now you’re going to get back on.”

Before you could react, Natasha’s hands were on your waist, strong, firm, already in control. She lifted you with practiced ease and placed you right back on the bike.

You didn’t fight it. You just exhaled, eyes hazy, body melting under Natasha’s hands like you’d been waiting to be put back in your place.

Natasha moved behind you, slow, intentional. She swung her leg over and settled down, chest pressed against your back, her thighs bracketing yours.

Then she placed a gloved hand on your inner thigh, possessive and controlling. Natasha leaned in, lips brushing your neck.

“Now you stay still.” she whispered. “Because this time, you’re not chasing the vibration.”

Her other hand reached for the key. “I’m giving it to you.”

The engine roared to life beneath you, and you gasped as the vibrations rolled through your body, stronger, more focused than before, and now with no distractions, no city, no excuses. Just you, the machine, and Natasha’s hands on your hips.

“That’s it.” Natasha purred. “Ride it.”

She reached around you slowly, deliberately, and took both of your wrists in her hands. She dragged them forward, placing them firmly on the handlebars.

“Don’t move them.” Natasha said, her voice like gravel and smoke. “I’m not going to tell you twice.”

You swallowed. Your thighs were already trembling, the vibration of the engine pulsing between your legs like it knew every inch of your body. And now, your arms were caged in place, Natasha’s hands wrapped over yours on the bars, holding you tight, forcing you to stay.

“Nat-” you breathed, trying to shift your hips. Natasha tightened her grip.

“Sit still.”

You whimpered. “Feel that?” Natasha murmured against your neck. “That’s what you wanted all along. You just didn’t want to say it. You wanted to sit here, legs spread, wet and needy, letting the bike fuck you until you fell apart..”

Your hands gripped the handles like lifelines. Your head fell forward, your breath stuttering as your core clenched around nothing but need. You shifted, instinctively grinding down, this time not holding back.

Natasha pressing kisses down your neck, whispering filth into your skin. “Keep going. Let it fuck you. Let me watch.”

One of her hand slid from the handlebar down your front, pressing into your lower belly, forcing your hips down, into the vibrations. “You’re gonna take it..” she whispered. “Right here. You’re gonna come with my hand holding you in place and your thighs wide open. And you’re gonna say thank you when you’re done.”

You shuddered, back arching against Natasha’s hold. Natasha leaned in tighter, lips brushing your ear. “Do you understand me?”

Your voice broke. “Y-Yes. Yes..yes, Natasha..”

She didn’t let go. Not when you started to shake. Not when the whimpers turned to gasps. Not even when you started begging, legs trembling, voice cracking, hips jerking helplessly against the relentless hum.

Her other hand ghosted over your stomach, then dipped between your legs, palming the heat there through the denim, pressing you down even harder against the seat.

“Feel that?” she whispered, voice rough and trembling with her own restraint. “The way the bike’s humming right on your clit?”

You whimpered, utterly wrecked, barely able to breathe, and Natasha just smirked against your cheek. “Let’s make it worse, hm?”

She revved the throttle slightly, just enough to spike the vibration, no movement forward, just power, steady and thick between your legs. The engine purred louder, and the new intensity made you gasp, hips jerking.

“Uh-uh.” Natasha pressed her thigh down harder, forcing you still.

“Ride it.” she hissed. “Rub against it. You want to come? Then grind.”

You let out a strangled moan as you obeyed, hips rolling against the seat in slow, desperate circles, the vibration perfectly centered, Natasha’s hands guiding every movement.

“That’s it.” Natasha murmured. “Use it. Use my fucking bike to make yourself come.”

You were crying out now, soft, breathless sounds that you couldn’t stop, couldn’t care to hide. Your thighs were shaking violently under Natasha’s hold, your hands white-knuckled on the grips.

“Keep your hands there..” Natasha reminded, biting your neck. “Don’t you dare stop.”

She rocked your hips faster now, pressing her fingers hard against the seam of your jeans, dragging it back and forth in time with the engine’s pulse.

“That’s it. That’s the spot. You feel it, don’t you? You’re about to soak the seat, baby.”

You sobbed a moan, mouth falling open as your orgasm hit like a crash, blinding, uncontrollable, your entire body trembling as you shattered, still pinned in place, still forced down onto the engine’s relentless rhythm.

But Natasha didn’t stop. She kept you there, hands firm, body caging you in.

“Look at you..” she whispered, voice thick with lust. “So fucking perfect when you come for me.”

You slumped forward, breath ragged, body limp. And still, Natasha stayed behind you, stroking your thighs, kissing your neck, voice softer now, but no less firm.

“We’re not done until I say.”

And the engine kept purring. You were still slumped over the bike, shaking, thighs twitching as the last pulses of your orgasm bled through your limbs. Your cheek rested against your forearm, breath ragged, body boneless. The engine had gone quiet, but the ghost of its vibration was still humming between your legs, so much that you couldn’t tell if you were still coming or just remembering how it felt.

And then Natasha moved. Slow and precise. She didn’t ask. She didn’t check. She knew.

One hand slid down your back, fingers tracing your spine with maddening gentleness. The other returned to your thigh, coaxing it open again as she leaned down, voice soft but lethal.

“Natasha, w-wait, wait..”

“No.” Natasha breathed, lips brushing your ear. “You don’t get to come once and be done. Not when I’ve been holding back this whole ride. Not when you were grinding against me, making these pretty little sounds.”

Her gloved fingers moved between your legs again, right over the soaked seam of your jeans, and pressed. Your whole body jolted.

“N-Nat-!” Your voice cracked, breath hitching into a sob of overstimulated shock. But Natasha only purred.

“Oh, baby, you’re already soaked through. And you’re still so sensitive, aren’t you?” She ground the heel of her hand slowly into your core, right where the vibration had left you raw and throbbing. “That means you’ll come even faster this time.”

Your hands scrambled at the grips, trying to pull away, but Natasha’s body was right behind yours, trapping you, and her hand moved fast, purposeful now. She wasn’t teasing anymore..She was claiming.

“I said don’t run.” Natasha growled. “Don’t you dare pull away from me.” You let out a desperate whimper, your voice caught somewhere between protest and surrender.

“I-I can’t, please..”

“Yes, you can.” Natasha whispered fiercely. “You will.”

She grabbed one of your hands and slammed it back onto the handlebar, pinning it down with her own.

“I’ll hold you through it.”

And she did. She pressed her other hand back between your thighs and started rubbing hard, tight circles over your clit through the soaked fabric, relentless, timed to the rhythm of your breath.

Your whole body was on fire, twitching with too much sensation, too much pressure, but it was all centered there, between your legs, where Natasha wouldn’t stop.

“God, listen to you..” Natasha groaned against your shoulder. “Whimpering like you don’t love this. Like your pussy isn’t pulsing against my hand already.”

You sobbed. “It’s too much!” you gasped. “I-I can’t- Nat, please-”

“Begging already?” Natasha hissed. “You’re not even close yet. But you’re going to be. Right there..feel that?”

You screamed when Natasha pressed just right.

“You’re coming again.” Natasha growled. “Come for me. Fucking come.”

And you shattered..Again. Harder and louder. Your whole body bucked and locked, thighs trying to snap shut, but Natasha held you wide, rubbing you through it, drawing it out, forcing you to stay there, helpless and overstimulated, twitching and sobbing against the handlebars.

Only when you were slumped, boneless and barely breathing, did Natasha finally ease her hand away-, glove soaked, lips brushing along your jaw, whispering, “That’s my good girl. Every last drop of you belongs to me.”

1K notes · View notes