Period Pains

Cinematography of the Red Room

Black Widow (2021) | dir. Cate Shortland | dp. Gabriel Beristain

Yes, Mistress: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

A series of related fics following the relationship of the reader and her new Domme, Mistress Natasha, as they explore her sexuality and submissiveness.

Series warnings: sub/Dom dynamics, sexual themes, kink negotiations, explicit f/f content

Join a taglist here!

The Meeting -  The reader goes to a quiet café to meet Mistress Natasha in person for the first time and they talk through what she can expect from this new relationship.

Floating -  Mistress Natasha takes it easy for the reader’s first session to ease her into the release that can be expected from their time together.

Responsive -  Before their next session, Mistress Natasha picks out her sub’s outfit and then invites her to meet at the park. She rewards the reader’s good behaviour in the bathroom of a café.  

Clint: I don’t think we can mansplain, manipulate or malewife our way out this one.

Natasha: *cracks knuckles*

Natasha: Manslaughter it is

love like you || w.m.

ship: scarlet witch!wanda/soft mommy!wanda/little!reader (mirror au)

warnings: allusions to multiverse of madness, smut (18+), also some light angst and lots of fluff, MDLG, selfcest, spanking, non-explicit mentions of rough sex, non-sexual punishments, aftercare

a/n: again thank u to motts and britt who truly had their gay little hands very involved in crafting this dynamic

Wanda was not expecting to choose to live a quiet life with her variant and her little, and she most certainly wasn’t expecting both of them to happily accept her into their lives - but it was exactly the environment she never knew she needed. 

It took a while for the three of you to get used to the dynamic. It was much easier for you, since you were already used to living with one Wanda. This new Wanda was just a little more broken around the edges, a little more paranoid and possessive of you, needing a lot of reassurance - which you were more than willing to provide. 

When you called her Mommy for the first time, you could practically see her tear up before she held you tighter, kissing your forehead and saying, “Yes, little one. Mommy’s here.” 

Mama and Mommy took a little more time getting used to each other - caught up in the idea that they were seeing the best and worst of each other laid out so plainly in front of them - but Mama’s soft approach to helping Mommy made the process a lot smoother for both of them. 

You actually didn’t realize that their relationship had developed into something more than just both being your mommies for a while. That was, until one day you woke up from a deep sleep, confused and cold because of the empty bed. 

You padded into the kitchen, Wandabear tucked under your arm and paci in your mouth, following the soft glow of the light over the sink. The pair were leaned against the counter, sharing soft kisses and caresses. It looked like Mommy had been crying, her tired eyes rimmed with red. But you could see a soft smile planted clearly on her face as Mama kissed her nose like she does with you when you’re feeling down. 

The moment was so intimate that you were about to creep back into bed and wait for them to return, but of course with two mind readers they were well aware of your presence. 

Mommy Wanda will sometimes get really moody and frustrated with herself for feeling that way and sometimes will accidentally snap at both of you. The first time this happened, you were immediately taken back to that first time you met her and she was in a crazed fury looking for her children, startled by finding you and Mama instead. 

She’s getting better about her temper. Mama has helped a lot, urging her to use her words and talk the feelings out rather than bottling them up until she snaps. Sometimes she still gets in cloudy moods, but she’s made a lot of progress and is able to get through them a lot easier with you and Mama helping.

Mommy Wanda is very very whipped for both of you, as much as she denies it. 

All three of you have the biggest praise kinks.

Mommy and Mama both get incredibly soft when they’re fucking and the other calls tells them how good they’re doing. And you are just always eager for positive attention from them both <3

They’re both strict with you but in very different ways. 

Mommy is much more likely to let you get away with breaking rules, like sneaking you cookies and letting you stay up past your bedtime. But she is also much more likely to punish you with spankings if you talk back to her. 

“Watch your tone with me, little devil,” is something you hear probably multiple times a day because you kind of can’t help riling Mommy up. 

Mama, on the other hand, is very strict on your daily rules. No dessert before you finish your dinner. Bedtime at 10pm. No throwing a tantrum to get something you want in the store. But if you give her a little sass, she’s usually just going to roll her eyes and let you get your bratty energy out before asking, “Are you done now, baby?” and you just pout at her and nod. 

Mama much prefers corner time as a punishment. Or writing lines. She doesn’t like to do impact play with you (but does rather enjoy the way you squirm as Mommy turns your cheeks red).

Both of them enjoy watching the other fuck you a lot. Mommy is a lot rougher than Mama - who was surprised at how much you loved the hard treatment. You had never expressed to her how you thought about her just using you. Mommy was more than willing to help fulfil those fantasies. 

The three of you always end up taking a big bath together after a tiring play session. You all barely all fit in the tub together - even after Mama got a new one. 

Mommy really loves washing you. It’s therapeutic for her to take care of you like that. 

Bedtime always consists of a lot of cuddles and kisses and sweet words before the three of you drift off to sleep. 

Keep reading

Marching On

(Bruce / Tony / Clint / Steve / Natasha)

Masterlist

(Gifs not mine)

(After the events of the Avengers, everyone moves into the tower; such broken people saved the world.)

1/ Bruce

He thinks she doesn’t like him.

It’s fair, he supposes, after the events on the helicarrier. He purposefully stays out of her way for the first month at least.

It’s easier when there are others around, and everyone makes an effort. Tony engages him in conversations of biomechanics and the theory of nanotech; and he watches Steve awkwardly adapt to the niceties of having money and time to live that’s not in war.

Clint, he watches more than the others. His quick smile and easy humour is genuine that he can tell, and he finds that when he’s quite he can hear the intelligence of the archer in all the things he doesn’t say.

.

Bruce moves into the Tower at Tony’s request. He’s been a nomad for so long that he figures it doesn’t really matter where he stays, and Tony promises to pump money into the vaccine program in India, where Natasha found him.

It’s probably more good than he’ll ever do.

There’s mandated therapy for all of them after the events of New York.

Guilt tears at him and he tries to explain to the therapist that he has had enough therapy for a lifetime, he knows he’s responsible for multiple deaths, and it’s things he lives with daily.

He tells her that her time would be better used with people that actually need it; children that have lost parents, people who have lost their partners, those that are injured, traumatised… the list could go on.

He should be last on the list, he tells her, of people getting help, and with that he’s promptly signed up to fortnightly sessions.

Tony laughs when he tells him, and says she said the same to him. He clasps him on the back and leads him to his lab.

“Build something,” Tony advises, “it helps.”

And Bruce knows that he’s made the right decision in coming here.

.

He likes watching people.

Clint the most, he thinks.

Tony is predictable.

Steve is aloof, polite.

And where there’s Clint, there’s usually Natasha.

It’s rare that they aren’t together and he can see how protective she is of him.

It’s little things. The way she walks through the door last, checking his back. The way she makes sure he eats, and refuses when he offers her some.

And the way she is quick with her words whenever anyone says a bad word against him.

She can be caustic where Tony is blunt, matches Steve’s quietness and there’s times that he’s left the room at her suggestion but it’s felt like his own idea.

He likes watching Clint, because it means he can also watch Natasha.

.

He feels particularly rattled after a therapy session, and he passes Natasha going in.

“Good luck,” he murmurs, and she smiles shallowly at him. He doesn’t think much of it and heads straight to bed even though it’s just after 3pm.

He wakes up some time around midnight, his stomach rumbling and his throat parched.

His room holds snacks, but he wants the left over fried rice they had two nights prior.

A beer would also be good, he thinks, even if the buzz he once experienced no longer occurs.

Slowly moving to the kitchen, he finds Natasha sitting at the breakfast bar eating cereal.

Purposely, he makes some noise to alert her to his presence but she already knows, standing and moving around the bench bringing her bowl with her, throwing the rest of the food into the disposable.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he opens with.

She shrugs.

“Was done,” she says, with a tired smile.

Bruce nods and pulls the rice from the fridge. Looks for the beer and pulls out two, offering her one that is declined as she seems caught between keeping him company and sneaking out.

“You can go,” he tells her, putting the food in the microwave and opening the beer as it cooks.

It works to catch her and social pressure makes her sit.

“You couldn’t sleep, either?”

Natasha watches him closely, as he pulls the hot food out and shakes his hands against the heat. He feels idiotic around her.

In a moment of abject honestly, she shakes her head.

“Clint had a nightmare,” she says, not looking at him.

Bruce finds it interesting, that in the middle of the night is when Natasha is most honest.

He nods, sitting next to her with his food and beer.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks.

He doubts that she will, as silence fills the kitchen.

So he offers up some of himself.

“Today in therapy,” he starts, “we talked about hyper vigilance and how I over obsess… over-estimate, maybe, the potential for danger at any given moment.” He takes another bite and wonders where he’s going with this.

“The practice was to be more mindful but not fearful of my surroundings.”

He scoffs.

“Why does therapy always seem so draining?” he finishes. He starts eating again, not expecting answers, even almost expecting her to leave as he sips his beer and finishes off the rice.

Natasha watches him closely, he feels her gaze run over him, and it’s likely that this is what the therapist was talking about.

“There’s three doors in this room, I have two guns ready, ones under the table,” she pauses.

“Tony is in the lab, Clint is asleep in his bed, and Steve is in the gym,” cocking her head, she stares at him.

“And you’re in here eating.”

Straight faced, they make eye contact.

“I think we must have had similar conversations.” She smirks.

Bruce grins.

“Tony should get a refund, that’s two for one advice,” he jokes.

“Was your homework the same too?” He laughs.

She grows serious, and he wonders what he said. As much as he watches her, he still has no idea what she’s thinking.

“Small acts of trust,” she says, as she stands and heads for the fridge.

He laughs.

“At least it’s tailored to our particular issues,” he deadpans.

He watches as she takes some string cheese from the fridge, slowly opening it, and pulling it apart.

He stands and disposes of his bowl and as he turns he watches her chew on the cheese as she disposes of the rest.

Shrugging, Natasha yawns, and bids him good night.

He replies in kind, and, as Bruce heads back to bed, it occurs to him that it was likely Natasha practicing what the therapist had asked of her.

Even if to him it seemed like nothing.

.

There’s a difference, Bruce notices in the way Natasha acts with him.

It seems that on days that therapy occurs they end up in the kitchen at midnight. Sometimes Clint is there, sometimes Tony.

It’s like a repair of sorts, where he offers her something of himself and when he’s lucky she offers something back.

Small acts of trust, he thinks, is a lesson they’re all learning.

.

this is for the lgbt

yo dark nat. kind of domestic, not very serious, kind of dumb, but it’s borne of a thought i had. unedited because i’m lazy and thought you all deserved smth lolll

Keep reading

Wings - n.r

Word count: 2565

Genre: comfort/hurt

Request: yes

Warnings: self harm (kinda. like it's with wings but read at your own discretion)

A/n: It's been a hot min since I wrote anything 😬 Might make this into a lil AU. I kinda wanna explore more of Natasha and angel!r's relationship. Like meeting R's parents etc. WE WILL SEE THO XD Also, I changed it slightlyyyyyy I hope that's okay!

Pride wasn't something your species lacked. With wingspans that are easily double your height and reflexes that would make a panther jealous, there was next to nothing that could harm you. The pride each of you had wasn't cockiness but the natural confidence that comes with the knowledge that you are the top of the food chain. Being the apex predator meant you possessed both the deadly ability of a lion and the brain that would rival even the smartest of humans. If charming your way out of a situation was looking increasingly unlikely, then throats would be slit. Despite what people may think, your culture was not one of savages. It was rich and detailed and varied from clan to clan. There was one common tradition that everyone partook in and that was The Leaving. Once a youngling's feathers lose their fluff and gain their silky perfection, they are to leave their family and seek out new blood; be it territory, foods, cultures or people.

You were expected to leave and come back bloodied with victories and new territories to show for it. Each clan had a balance of specialties that were dictated by what your parents did. While a few were lucky enough to have a choice between two paths if their parents had differing roles, most didn't have a choice. You had never been close with your parents although this was a common occurrence. It was the grandparents who raised the young while the parents were off traveling the world to find the resources they needed. How were parents expected to contribute towards the clan's survival if they had to stop to raise children? It made much more sense for those whose wings could no longer carry them the great distances needed to look after the young.

Your parents had reached that age. Their wings were now nothing more than brilliant decorations, marked with each one of their victories. Unfortunately, this meant they now lived vicariously through you. When your beautifully glossy wings reached maturity, your parents all but shoved you from the comfort of your own home, eager for you to make your mark on the world and come back with grandchildren for them to mould.

Something you parents hadn't accounted for was that the world was vastly more populated than it was when they had set out. You could no longer just fly down, intimidate or charm the locals, and claim their land as yours. The weapons had become more developed and they had seen too many otherworldly creatures to fall for the usual tactics. This may have looked like a problem, but for your opportunistic ass, this was the dream.

You were finally free to eat as much as you wanted, drink as much as you wanted and lay with as many people as you wanted.

~~~~~

Your binge of freedom lasted a day.

You were promptly captured by some kind of new technology you absolutely had to bring back with you.

"You thought we didn't notice you?" A man called Fury, asked.

"I thought you were too feeble minded to realise."

"We keep tags on all life not from this planet."

You let out a short bark of laughter. "If you were here first then why are we all over your history? Hell we predate your history." Your large wings bristled, managing to overpower the technology just briefly "I have to ask, where on earth did you manage to get this?"

"Get what?"

"The contraption keeping me here?"

"I am not a contraption." A third voice entered the conversation, thick with an accent that didn't match Fury's.

The woman moved in front of you, her eyes glowing a shade of red you had only seen one other time. The time your grandmother died.

"Want to see some real magic sweetheart? Come with me and I'll show you everything."

You couldn't tell if the red flush on her face was from anger, exertion of keeping you there, or lust. Turns out you never got to find out as a sharp bolt of electricity knocked you out.

That was three years ago and since then you had fought with the Avengers and even become one of them. Your favourite battle was with Thanos. It was positively delicious to rip his slimy little arm off before Thor swung his axe through his head.

There was no real reason for you to stay other than you liked their company. Your parents were eager for you to come back and begin mating so you could head back out again but you had grown to like the humans you called your family. You had learnt many things while being here such as your wings were in fact retractable. Well, they weren't completely retractable but they could almost slide in on themselves, making them a practical size for walking around hallways and sleeping on beds. The downside however, was that you weren't very good at remembering to keep them in. That, and when certain people made you flustered, they just popped right back out again.

Your time with the Avengers had also changed you a little. You had a nickname - something the old you would have cut tongues out of mouths if she had been given one. It was created when Tony Stark had seen you smuggle an interesting looking spoon into your sleeve.

"Damn magpie, anything else of mine you want?"

You didn't know how to react at first. You didn't know he was talking to you and you certainly didn't know how you were anything like the pitiful creatures. Tony then explained the similarities and from that day, the nickname stuck.

~~~~~

"Want to go on a date?" The words left your mouth quickly, the confidence leaving you as you stood in front of the redhead who had tasered you all those years ago.

"What took you so long to ask?" Natasha leant against her doorframe.

You looked at her sheepishly. "Well... in my culture we ask people out a little differently..."

"Wait... is that what all those feathers were for?"

You felt your face heat up with something you would later discover was embarrassment. "Yes"

Natasha's grin put you at ease, "I'm driving but you're paying."

By the time the date rolled around, you were a little less of a mess and feeling more like yourself. Your dress hugged your figure perfectly and complemented your complexion. Turns out, it was probably a good idea that Natasha was driving because one look at her made you weak at the knees. You brushed the lust off as quickly as it came and by the time you had reached the restaurant, your confident persona had slipped back into place.

Your date was going great until Natasha decided to run her foot up the inside of your calf. Your wings sprang out in shock, causing a waiter to spill soup all over the neighbouring table. The string of apologies that left your mouth did nothing to cover the embarrassment you felt. The two of you left pretty quickly after that but not without hearing the annoyed tuts and sharp sighs that left the restaurant-goers mouths.

"Shit I'm sorry Y/n" Natasha said as you both walked back to her car. She was tense. You really hoped it wasn't because you and your wings had embarrassed her.

"It's okay. And as long as you're not too embarrassed to be seen with me maybe we could go on a second date? I'm definitely picking next time though. Just to avoid any soup related accidents." You watched as the tension drained from Natasha's face, her shoulders relaxing just a little.

"Promises, promises."

The flurry of dates after that went well. The lack of dates in crowded spaces hadn't gone unnoticed by you but you couldn't bring yourself to mind. Soon, date night Saturdays were a regular thing and before you knew it, you were in a committed relationship.

~~~~~

One Saturday, you and Natasha decided to stay in with the rest of the team. It was Steve's birthday and you were all having a team movie night to celebrate. Everyone was settled comfortably on the couches littered across the room and you winced when you realised there wasn't going to be enough space for you to comfortably sit. You passed the popcorn bowls around, loud groans left some of the team members as your wings got in the way of the screen.

"Sorry guys." you crouched lower as you made your way to the sofa where Natasha and Wanda were sitting. You sat down on the floor in front of them, causing Natasha to scowl.

"Lyubov, get your ass up here." She and Wanda shuffled so there was room for you in the middle. You smiled at your girlfriend and best friend but shook your head, the rest of the team hushing them as the movie had started.

You felt Wanda reposition and tried to get your wings to shrink even further. You didn't understand the shame you were feeling. Shame wasn't something your species ever felt. Perhaps it was time to go back. Perhaps being here had changed you too much.

~~~~~

You were naturally proud creatures, so why was it that when the team banned you from watching horror movies with them, you felt so damn small.

"Y/n, we think it's best if you don't watch any more horror's with us." Vision led you from the living room, away from the TV.

"Oh."

It had been Bruce's idea for you to watch their weekly horror movie with them while you waited for Natasha, Steve and Wanda to come back from a mission.

"It's not that we don't want you to-"

You cut vision off "It's just that it's inconvenient right?"

Turns out, while horror movies were great fun, they were a little less fun when Sam got covered in fizzy drinks not once but twice because of your wings.

He at least had the politeness to look a little guilty. "Well..."

"It's okay Vis. I get it."

You walked back to your's and Natasha's shared room, thoughts spiralling as you remembered each and every time your wings caused inconveniences like this.

You were taught that you should be treated like gods - that the humans worshiped you - that your species was where the modern idea of angels came from. So why did Vision's words hurt so much?

~~~~~

Natasha had just come back from a mission and you had missed her like crazy. It was late when she came back but you didn't care. You tucked both of you into bed, making Natasha promise she'd tell you all about her mission in the morning. That night, you had a vivid, horrific nightmare. The kind of nightmare that makes you cry out in the night. When you awoke drenched in sweat, you wondered what had woken you. You looked at your girlfriend and that's when the realisation hit you. You had broken her nose. It was her shout of discomfort that had woken you up.

You decided that this was it.

It was fine when your wings bumped into people, or when they knocked over glasses, or bowls of food but hitting your girlfriend in the face so hard it broke her nose was the last straw.

They were coming off and that was final.

You stood up and left the room, not hearing bone snap back into place, not hearing Natasha call out to you in an attempt to get you to come back. You left the compound quickly and efficiently. As soon as you had left, you were beating your wings as hard as you could. You flew up and up, wondering that if you managed to get high enough, whether or not they would freeze off.

They didn't.

You then dove deep into the sea, rationalising that if you did it quickly enough, they would rip right from you. When that didn't work, you snuck into a florists, grabbing the shears that were left on the counter.

You walked aimlessly for miles. The blood from Natasha's nose had dried and made you want to vomit. You weren't meant to be here and you certainly weren't meant to be with a human. Your feet came to a stop and you realised you had walked all the way to the tree where you and Natasha had your first kiss. It took everything in you not to break down and cry right then and there. You were a terrible girlfriend and your body had decided to take you to the one place you didn't want to be.

You gritted your teeth and began to hack away at the wings you and your ancestors were once so proud of. The wings that made you sick every time you saw them.

"Y/n please put them down." Natasha's broken voice bounced and echoed its way around the clearing.

Shame flooded you as she caught you attempting to get rid of the wings she loved so much.

"But they need to go." Tears raced down your face, your eyes unable to stop them no matter how much they wanted to.

"Y/n, your wings are perfect."

You snorted at that, cutting her short "If they were so perfect then why wont they stay in huh?" The bitterness in your voice let slip just how long these thoughts had been festering.

"Because they're not meant to be kept in all the time. I know you've been pinning them back more." Natasha's voice was steady as she moved closer to you, reaching out gently to try and grab the shears.

You took a weary half step backwards, not quite ready for her to touch you. You were an animal backed into a corner and right now, you couldn't see clearly.

"Y/n, baby, please. Your wings are what make you you. Without them you wouldn't be complete." Natasha's hand twitched. "I love every part of you and I know you think your wings hurt me but it's not like I haven't hurt you. Remember when you woke up with me holding a knife to your throat?"

You let out a wet laugh "It was three months into our relationship. The first time you relaxed properly when sleeping with me. You were having a bad dream."

"Exactly. A bad dream. And did you blame me?"

"Of course not." You lowered the shears.

"No. because that's dumb right?"

"Obviously."

"So why do you think I wouldn't act in the exact same way you did when you comforted me that night." Natasha took the shears from your hand.

"But I could really hurt you."

"And I could really hurt you. You forget - I'm a trained assassin."

Your bottom lip wobbled as your eyes filled with fresh tears again. Natasha dropped the shears and tugged you into her. You both sank to the floor as you held Natasha close, your back hitting the tree. Once you finished crying, Natasha wiped away the last of your tears.

"See, if you didn't have your wings, then how are we supposed to have secret conversations?" She smiled cheekily at you as she lifted them both up and wrapped them around you both.

"The damn things heal too quickly for me to cut them off myself. Besides, I'm pretty sure they grow back after a month."

Natasha hit you "Don't even joke."

The First Fall of Snow

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

A/N: Based on a request for Reader to be a new Avenger that Natasha mentors. Reader has ability to read people’s intentions. 

Word Count: 1.8K

‘Downstairs in ten minutes.” Natasha walked right past you with her matter of fact greeting. You held your tongue, but your gaze caught Tony’s knowing one. You rolled your eyes, every morning was the same.

You kept quiet as you stood up from the breakfast table. Your muscles ached with anticipation for the exhausting sparring match.

 It was just a regular Tuesday.

You never thought you’d be used to such a rigorous regime.

—————–

Keep reading

The Elements Of Us || Masterlist

Author's Note - SURPRISE!! Me and the absolutely fabulous, and talented, @p0orbaby have decided to work together to do a collab! We've had this planned for a little while, but we're now ready to reveal it to you lovely lot. Please follow them if you haven't already!

Summary - When an unexpected misunderstanding turns into a blossoming relationship, it’s hard to remember that the outside world exists. Follow the journey of two idiots in love as they navigate their new lives with each other, but not without their pasts rearing their ugly heads.

Pairing - Older!NatashaRomanoff x Younger!Fem!Reader

Warnings - Each chapter will have its own individual warnings. but adult themes will be written throughout.

Prologue || 22/01

Chapter 1

more chapters coming…

--

for the smutty saturday could you do dom!scarlett johansson and sub!r with number 54 please 🥺🥺

There was not much that could make Scarlett mad, but oh did it make her blood boil to see another man touching on her girl.

Y/n knew that she was watching, watching this random guy at the bar leave a lingering touch on her lower back. She wishes she can say that she hated to tease Scarlett, but it was so fun to do so.

The anger that stroked Scarlett’s touch when she finally got Y/n in her grasp always sent her skin aflame. She could feel herself getting wet already from how she's going to handle her later.

She felt her phone buzz in her hand while this guy talked about whatever. Y/n glanced at her locked screen and noticed the one notification that she has is a text from Scarlett.

Don't get yourself in trouble little girl

Y/n locked her phone again before glancing over at Scarlett. Her eyes were staring right at them and if looks could kill, this man in front of her would be dead.

Just then, Y/n decided to laugh at his lame joke as if it was the funniest thing in the world. The people around her looked at her as she laughed obnoxiously, but she didn't care. Her hand came to rest on the man's bicep resulting in another buzz from her phone.

Touch him again and I'm going to drag you out of here

Y/n decided to text Scarlett back:

Or what? I thought we weren't together? I remember you saying something like that or maybe I imagined it.

Y/n knows that using her words against her is going to end with her face forced against a mattress and Scarlett fucking her from behind without an ounce of remorse.

Come here

The guy in front of her was still talking to her as if she was actually paying attention to him. He was cute, seemed really nice too, but she wasn’t interested in him at all. What had her attention was the conversation happening on her phone.

No

Are you going to come here, or are you going to make me come get you myself?

Y/n locked her phone again. If Scarlett wanted her like she claimed then she was going to have to do something about it. This little game was exciting her so much, lust swirling inside of her.

She was suddenly grabbed by the arm and was dragged away from the guy she was hardly talking to.

"What the fu-"

"Shut your mouth. You lost the privilege to explain yourself."

Scarlett can't even wait until they got to her house. She pushed Y/n into the back of her car. Scarlett forced Y/n over her lap and pulled up her short dress until it was over her ass.

"Such a pretty little ass...too bad I have to bruise it." Her hand came down hard on Y/n’s ass, making her yelp. Y/n found herself feeling embarrassed even though caused this to happen. Anyone could walk by and see what's happening through Scarlett’s dark tinted windows if they looked for long enough. Her heart began to race faster and faster every time she smacked her ass. Her skin burned hot under Scarlett’s touch.

"You don't have anything to say for yourself now, do you? You were such a bad girl. What happened? What happened, honey?" Y/n felt her fingers rubbing her sex through her thin panties. She whimpered when Scarlett’s fingers hovered over and pressed into her sensitive bud. Y/n was absolutely dripping through the cotton fabric of her panties. "You made a mess of yourself baby."

Scarlett pulled her panties to the side to make room for her fingers. She pushed into Y/n’s wet opening and sighed when she felt her warm walls grip her. Tears already stained Y/n’s eyes as Scarlett began to pump in and out of her much faster than she could withstand.

Scarlett noticed how Y/n was trying to grind her clit against her for some relief.

"My little baby that turned on? You want your little clit played with?"

Y/n nodded pathetically, eliciting a laugh deep from Scarlett’s chest. She had teased and teased and now she was reaping what she had sowed.

"Your pussy is tightening around me already. You gonna cum baby? Am I going to make you cum?"

Y/n could only whimper. Scarlett’s thick and agile fingers rendered her silent. She already had two inside of her then she slid another one in. She didn't think she'd be able to talk all three but she did. Scarlett filled her up with her fingers and curled them inside of her. She hits parts that only she knows how to find. The continuous rubbing over Y/n’s sweet spots made her lose her mind. Her words were mangled as she tried to cry out about how good she was making her feel.

Scarlett was relentless in how she treated Y/n’s poor pussy. Even after she suspected Y/n had came around her fingers so soon, the excess of arousal giving her away, she still finger fucked her pussy until Y/n was trying squirm out of her grasp. Scarlett just held onto her harder and kept subjecting her to the onslaught of her fingers.

"This is my little pussy. I'm the only other person who gets to touch this sweet honey pot."

"Yes! It's yours! I'm gonna cum for you," Y/n was able to cry out.

A broken cry came from her throat as she came around Scarlett’s fingers once again and much harder this time. Scarlett felt smug as she brought her to heel after she was feeling bold from teasing her. She always thought she was slick, but Scarlett made her weak in the knees. It was something about her eyes that turned Y/n into her submissive bitch.

Scarlett pulled her fingers out of her, making Y/n whimper from the empty feeling. She felt her tease her slit again before adding pressure to her clit. Her body jerked and she pulled away from Scarlett’s touch.

"Open."

Y/n kept her eyes closed, but she opened her mouth and felt Scarlett’s fingers fill her mouth. She hummed around them and sucked the taste of herself off of her fingers. Her body went slack against Scarlett. She turned her head and finally opened her eyes to look at her..

"This is nothing compared to what I'm going to do to you with my cock later. You better toughen up princess, it's going to be a long night for you."

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