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#natasha romanoff oneshot
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Love Favors The Misfortunate
Natasha Romanoff x Gender-Neutral Reader
Natasha Masterlist Main Masterlist
Word count: 3.2k
Warnings: Minor Violence
Summary: Misfortune always seems to follow you no matter what you do. But where there’s trouble, Nat often follows, maybe love was on your side after all?
Disclaimer: This was part of a writing exercise I did so it’s kind of silly and unedited but enjoy!
~~~~~~~~~~~
Somehow you always managed to wind up in the worst situations that Earth could possibly experience. You wondered if you were just cursed or something considering last week you were present for not one but two bank robberies. 
Maybe that was just the life of a delivery driver?
You hoped the lady behind the bank counters Caesar salad tasted better after death threats and salty tears of desperation.
This time, however, in the middle of checking the GPS during a stoplight, the sound of screams alerts you to the number of people ditching their cars and running past your motorcycle in fear.
Looking up you see the giant rip in Earth's atmosphere, monster-looking creatures spilling out of the hole. 
Oh, Good.
You immediately kick your motorcycle into gear, walking the bike through the crowds of people until you can manage to make a U-turn and speed off, weaving your way through the panic.
You spare a few glances into your mirrors as more flying monsters spill out of the sky and it's during one of these glances that you fail to notice the giant alien who has just landed in the street a few feet ahead of you. By the time you notice him you only have enough time to attempt a full stop which results in your bike sliding from under you and skidding across the pavement. Ouch.
Much to your luck, however, the bike collides directly with the monster and sends it straight into its own spear. A weird purple liquid oozing slowly from underneath the unconscious body. 
You frown, it was going to cost a pretty penny to get your bike fixed if it was even salvageable and now you definitely weren’t getting paid for the hamburger and fries that were probably still warm in your delivery bag.
Maybe you could see if french fries taste better after near-death and motorcycle debt.
Wincing, you feel your arms already bruising and your jeans have ripped through to your thigh, you're not bleeding as much as you probably should be from that slide but it still hurts like hell. Thank god you were wearing all your safety equipment.
A hand is extended out to you and you graciously take it, looking up to meet eyes with the prettiest redhead you’ve ever seen. She’s giving you an impressed smile and you feel like you could melt right then and there. Although that might also be from the burning pain in your leg. 
You probably need to find a hospital. Or maybe you were dead and this was an angel.
You always figured they’d look like the horrendous abomination of eyes and wings that they were described as, not as pretty redheads with striking green eyes but you weren’t complaining.
“That was a good move” There are still people running past you screaming but it feels like time stops when she speaks to you. 
“Yep. that was definitely something I did on purpose” Drumming your fingers on your thighs you watch her chuckle and give you a look that tells you she knows you did not, in fact, do that on purpose.
You glance between your bike and the woman in front of you, screaming civilians making the moment almost comical. You felt like you were in some kind of rom-com apocalypse.
Despite it being the last thing you should probably do, you extend your hand out to her and tell her your name. She gives you a very amused look and you shrug your shoulders as if to say ‘Why not? We’re here aren’t we?’ 
She chuckles again as she takes your hand, introducing herself.
Natasha. Derived from the Russian name Anastasia, which means resurrection. Maybe she was an angel. Damn.
Natasha nods her head in the direction of the crowd and smirks “Shouldn’t you be joining them?” You shrug. “Unless you know more moves like that?” She gestures toward your beat-up bike and you shake your head
“No. Unfortunately, I haven't mastered the art of more than one motorcycle trick yet” Not that you could get that thing to start back up again after that anyway.
She shakes her head with a laugh, glancing over her shoulder at the mess the city is becoming before turning back to you. “ Well I guess until you learn you should probably get running”
You nod, a little dejected, your calmness in relativity to the situation was likely the result of a concussion but you weren’t worried. Unless Nat was not real, in that case, you should be worried. Very Worried.
“Will we meet again?” it’s cliche and you immediately feel like a protagonist in a Disney movie but it’s a genuine question.
She smirks and looks around at the city again, gesturing to the absolute clusterfuck that New York had become “For your sake, I hope we don't” 
You know she doesn’t mean anything bad by it and it’s your turn to smirk when you say “Knowing my luck, we will” You hope she finds herself near a few banks in the upcoming months…
She smiles at you and nods her head in the direction of the crowd and you understand what she’s trying to tell you. With one final wave and a small “good luck” you run in the direction of your fellow New Yorkers, occasionally glancing back to see her running in the direction of the main battle.
You didn't know who she was but Damn did you want to. 
~~~
The next time you find yourself in a particularly unfavorable situation is not for months later. Minus that one time you witnessed two old ladies get mugged and that time you almost got hit by an ice-cream truck. But you got free ice cream from the second one so you weren't counting it.
You’d taken up a job in a small pizza place to pay for your bike repairs. It didn’t pay much but you didn’t have that many options after New York got attacked by aliens and half the businesses were destroyed or temporarily shut down. This is one of the few places still open which means on Friday nights you were busy as hell.
It was not a Friday night. It was a Tuesday afternoon and your coworker who was supposed to be on shift with you called out sick which meant you were manning the shop by yourself. Your stupid coworker was probably just off cheating on his girlfriend again but you didn’t care because the shop was empty which meant you could play games on your phone without his judgmental stare.
You’re struggling through level 5 of Candy Crush when the sound of breaking glass comes from the front of the shop and you sigh. You would be surprised but it was New York, more specifically it was your life in New York.
What you are surprised by, however, is the sight of familiar red hair covered in glass in the entryway, and you really want to rub your eyes with the squeaking sound effect like in the cartoons but the amount of microfibers that just got released into the air would suggest not doing that.
“Well well well” You realize you sound more like a supervillain than you intended and you freeze when she stands and sharply turns in your direction, gun pointed directly at you. You throw your hands up in surrender immediately. Goddamn supervillain catchphrases always making pretty girls turn their guns on you.
When she seems to recognize you she relaxes only for a man to jump through the already broken glass window and tackle her to the ground again. You want to help but considering you still haven't learned any more motorcycle tricks(or any tricks in general) you figure you would probably be useless.
You watch helplessly as she disarms and renders the guy unconscious in a matter of seconds and then stands and dusts herself off. The guy on the ground looks like some old-timey variation of Hitler and you're pretty glad she knocked him unconscious before he could even notice you. 
You focus back on Nat who's looking at you like a wounded animal that could run away at any moment and It’s then that you realize that most people are not quite used to these kinds of situations. Clearly, you weren’t like most people. You point to the body in a trenchcoat on the ground as you crinkle your nose
“Are you taking that guy with you when you leave?” She huffs out a laugh and you feel yourself smile at successfully getting her to laugh again.
You, one.
Hitlerman, zero.
At least you were winning one game. Stupid Candy Crush.
She looks around the shabby pizza place and then zones in on your nametag, only them seeming to realize you worked there. She tilts her head, nodding to your flimsy little name pinned to your T-shirt. 
“Why are you working here? Where’s the bike?” You sigh, you knew the question was coming but it’s still a sore subject for you. You internally punch a wall but on the outside, you frown just a little. It’s the saddest expression Nat’s seen on your face so far.
“She’s in the shop. Repairs are taking longer than I thought and now I’m forced to conform to my least favorite type of work just to get her back” Nat gives an understanding nod and then cringes a little, walking towards you until she’s right in front of you. She places a hand on your head and you inhale sharply.
A small frown forms on Nat’s face “You’re bleeding” 
The feeling of her hand on your face confirms that she’s not an angel or a figment of your imagination and you don’t realize you’ve voiced that thought out loud until you hear Nat barking out a laugh.
“I’m flattered but, well-” She glances up, then behind her, then back towards you “I wouldn’t be so sure just yet” She smirks and removes her hand just as a ceiling panel falls from the roof. Dust flies into the air and you cover your face to avoid getting more shit in your eyes.
When the room finally settles Natasha is nowhere in sight but there’s a Captain America band-aid on the serving counter and you feel a small smile across your face. What a dramatic exit. Now who was the supervillain?
You take great notice of the fact that Hitlerman is also gone and you wonder how the fuck she managed to do that. But more importantly, you hoped this wasn’t coming out of your paycheck.
~~~
You can’t emphasize enough to most people how much you’re not even trying to be in the situations you get caught in. In fact, the one time you stayed home for a week you ended up catching the Flu. How the hell do you catch the flu from staying home? After that, you just accepted that you were a magnet for misfortune and there was nothing you could do about it.
Although, after meeting Nat you found yourself a little excited anytime something misfortunate happened and that was probably psychotic and you should definitely check yourself into a psych ward but you’d probably end up choking on a crayon and getting deemed a risk to those around you so what was the use?
Still, of all the robberies you’d been a witness to you’d never been a part of a hostage situation. Until now. Stupid Banks! 
Usually, you’d assume that the police would handle a situation like this and you’d be stuck in this bank for hours until someone grew a dick and negotiated something but this time circumstances were a little different. To start, the guy who was currently robbing the bank was holding some type of gun that was the equivalent of real-life freeze tag. 
Anyone who got zapped by the oddly blue glowing gun was frozen in place, which led you to problem number two. 
The police had shown up nearly half an hour ago and someone must not have briefed them on this wacko holding you hostage because the second one of them snuck in the back door with a gun he was frozen in place looking like the idiot that he probably was. 
You would attempt to grab his gun but you didn’t feel like doing that shit. Who were you to risk your life and try to be a hero for some money that this poor fellow probably needed considering New York's rent cost.
Maybe if the stupid fucker hadn’t frozen the one lady who knew the code to the very comically large bank safe he wouldn’t be stuck making stupid negotiations and holding people hostage.
Instead, you settled against a wall near a bunch of crying civilians and attempted once again to beat level 10 of Candy Crush. You give up after ten minutes and delete the app. Really you were just trying to kill the time until you-know-who showed up.
She and her band of merry men had grown a reputation for taking care of situations that the regular authorities couldn’t and that’s why you weren’t the least bit surprised when the room began to fill with a cloudy white smoke.
Others began panicking, fearing that it was some sort of poisonous gas and you rolled your eyes. This was not poisonous gas, you’d seen poisonous gas and this was not it. 
This was a very dramatic entrance formulated by your absolute favorite redhead. God, you felt like you were in a spy movie. Any second now you’d see a faint figure slowly descending from the ceiling in all black with a gas mask on and spy music would start playing.
Any second now.
Aaaaaany second now- 
A scream from beside you makes you jolt and you find the sobbing woman next to you with a hand over her mouth. A gruff-looking man is telling her to keep quiet and your eyes widen for a second as you think ‘Oh shit. Double robbery.’ But from behind the gruff-looking man walks a familiar figure and she pats him on the shoulder as she passes him. 
You squint your eyes, what an oddly metal-looking shoulder. Perhaps you were hallucinating. Stress and all that.
By this point, enough white smoke has filled the room that the bank robber is wildly swinging around in fear as he squints to see. He’s probably more on edge after that woman's scream as well. Yeeeeah more of a horror movie than a spy movie now. 
The reason you can see everyone so well is due to your superior eyesight and definitely not the science lab goggles that you had in your bag for no suspicious reasons. Hey, you had to be prepared for literally anything considering your luck.
Nat’s wearing some kind of night vision-looking goggles and a mask and when she passes you you poke her leg. She jumps a little, glaring at you until she seems to recognize you despite your flawless Lab Scientist disguise and her eyes widen. Her eyes seem to scream ‘What are you doing here’ but you feel it’s too obvious of a question to bother answering. 
Instead, you give her the biggest smile you can muster and a friendly wave, mouthing “Hiiii Nat!” 
She rolls her eyes but you can see the smile she’s hiding under her mask and you mentally fist pump. Three for three.
You point to the man wielding the gun and mouth to her “Go! Team go!” 
She shakes her head, exasperated by your lack of fear and self-preservation but holds her finger up to her mouth telling you to be silent as she turns to sneak up on the man. 
Your body does so love disobeying orders though, so it chooses that moment to sneeze, which has the man pointing the gun in your direction (not that he can see as his eyes are practically watering now) and Nat turns to you with a glare.
You raise your hands up in surrender and in an attempt to help, you throw the nearest object on the floor across the room. Oh, that was your phone- well, okay. Either way, it helps, the man swings back in that direction, blasting his gun in the air and Nat takes the moment to attack him from behind. 
She disarms him easily, taking him to the ground and placing him in handcuffs. She inspects the device carefully, flipping a switch and aiming it at the closest frozen person. With a bolt of light, they unfreeze and gasp for breath. Good, at least the idiot had created some sort of Ctrl-Shift Undo button.
You're part of the first few escorted out of the building considering you weren’t frozen or in hysterics and the paramedics look at you a little funny but wrap a shock blanket around your shoulders.
Yes, shock. That's what you were experiencing. Normal people things. You twist back and forth and watch the shock blanket sway as you wait for Nat to be done with her serious business. God, serious business was boring and took forever.
When she finally emerges from the building she ignores the press and police that come up to talk to her and heads straight for you. Ha! Eat shit losers.
She doesn’t bother with formalities, why would she? It's you. Instead, she hands you a small black box as she takes in the shock blanket you’ve tied around your neck to look like a cape.
“Here’s your phone” You take the object from her hands and inspect it.
Oh wow, No cracks, that's great. Wait- “This is not my phone” You turn it over and inspect the Stark logo on the back of it. Yeeeeah definitely not yours.
“No, it’s not” She doesn't bother lying to you at least, and you hum in acknowledgment. Well, you weren’t one to pass up a free upgrade. You pocket the phone and stick your hands in your front pockets, flashing her a smile
“So… you come around here often?” She rolls her eyes at your stupid attempt at a joke. Or flirting. Either one works.
“How do you keep ending up in these situations?”
It’s your turn to smirk “Maybe it’s just an excuse to see you?” 
She gives you a look that says ‘It better not be’ and you just shrug, your shock blanket falling to the ground. Fucker. Making you look uncool. You refuse to bend down and pick it up. Recovery blankets were for losers anyway.
Still, she smiles at you anyway and crosses her arms “I’m beginning to think the only way to keep you safe is to keep you with me”
Your heart leaps but you pretend to be nonchalant. You're only blushing because of shock or whatever. Play it cool “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea” A stupid smile forces its way onto your face despite your best attempts to repress it and Nat laughs at your stubbornness.
“But first I think we’ve got to teach you some self-defense” She nods her head indicating for you to follow her and you both begin walking in step to an unmarked black car. 
Kidnapper car.
Cameras are flashing around you and you think about how cool you’ll look with Lab goggles atop your head and white smoke in your hair on the news tomorrow morning. The media was going to love you.
Turning to Nat on your way to the car, you have a question that’s been itching at you that you feel the need to ask 
“Do you think your sugar daddy can help me fix my bike?”
She punches you in the arm.
A/n: This was initially a writing exercise to write the silliest short story I could think of, but I thought it was cute so I decided to post it~ Starry
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nataliasquote · 2 days
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Welcome To My Head At Midnight | n romanoff
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Summary: Natasha Romanoff is her own worst enemy and maybe this fight isn’t one she’s so sure she can win.
Warnings: more depressing stuff, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, isolation, depression, overall angst
wc: 2k
note: inspired by ‘Midnight’ by Bow Anderson. I listen to it too often so why not write a one shot about it to fuel angst. I’ve worked on this in small bits for a few nights now, and it’s not a fic exactly, but anyway, here it is :) enjoy
-⧗-
They say the brightest smiles hold the darkest secrets, their shimmering landscape a disguised war zone of trepidation. And those who dared tread there risked mutilation of their closest loved ones in exchange for the truth. No one came out of there unscathed, but perhaps the one who could never leave had it the worst.
Natasha knew how to keep herself occupied. Her work was her top priority, not having a secure bond with family nor friends to latch onto in her darkest hours. She threw herself into whatever she could, often picking up extra should she find simply a few spare minutes in her day.
But those hours weren’t taken for the hell of it. Her body wasn’t driven into the ground and her knuckles weren’t battered and bruised just for the fun of it. She needed solace, but nothing was ever strong enough to keep the lid on the overflowing terrors in her mind. She never would be strong enough, for this kind of pain was never made to be handled alone.
But the Black Widow, a feared warrior, would only ever be alone. Her hand crafted smile was simply a ruse but no one seemed to see through the cracks in her mask, no matter how large they felt from the inside. Her master manipulation worked a little too well, her silent cries for help falling upon deaf ears.
Among all of this, she couldn’t slow down. Just a momentary standstill had her grip on her emotions slipping, one by one her fingers losing contact with the sheer cliff face she found herself hanging from. Natasha may fight assassins and aliens with a fearless prowess, never batting an eyelid or showing a flicker of terror.
But the same could not be said for her own mind. The part of her that formed her every thought and controlled her every movement was simultaneously destroying her from the inside out. Her thoughts paralysed her, a punch to the gut when her guard was at her lowest. But no hours of running would ever let her escape these violent clutches that her fears had on her. She was trying to lose her shadow, an impossible fight.
She was always two steps ahead of both her enemies and her anxieties. The faintest lurch of her stomach or tightening of her chest had her appearing at Fury’s door in a breathless stupor, voice icy as she demanded an immediate mission. Her superior had his skepticism but always agreed, sending her across the country at the drop of a hat. Natasha never cared where she went; frankly, she never noticed. She would go anywhere, do anything.
But even she was forced to have days off. They felt like a fever dream, and Natasha found herself unable to partake in the excitable chatter rumbling among her friends at the prospect of their weekend plans. She could barely muster a smile, never mind a verbal reply whilst her hands began to tremble and her eyes turned glossy. Dread sank into the depths of her stomach like a stone - a day off meant isolation, it meant fighting her battles by herself - a death wish. Relaxation would never come, yet she braved a smile and lied through her teeth to dodge the inevitable questions.
Lifting her aching body out of bed was an impossible task. Her pillow was often soaked with tear stains but she barely noticed as her cool palms hit the wet fabric. The heavy curtains that fell to block out the world never twitched, and sunlight never got the chance to kiss her pale complexion. She didn’t want a reminder of what the day was like for everyone else. She remained a victim to the darkness, both inside and out.
There were no interruptions, why would there be? What little sleep she got was plagued by nightmares and she still shook from the aftermath as she shuffled to the bathroom, legs shaky and cheeks damp. The harsh reflection in the mirror only highlighted her anxious state, so she ignored it, too scared to be faced with what she knew would stare back at her. Mirrors across her room were covered up- she’d go crazy if they weren’t.
Natasha hated this side of her. Where was the tough woman she was supposed to be? How could she feel this much emotion when it had been beaten out of her since she could walk. How did any of it still remain? Nevermind enough to debilitate her and curl itself around her windpipe, slowly crushing her from the inside out and forcing every last piece of hope out.
She knew she was a failure, but not to this extent. Despite her success, she was fucking up her life and the demons in her head screamed this to her over and over. There were so many little girls who looked up to her. They admired the strength she had and her resilience and she wished she could tell them to stop when they uttered the words she was scared to hear.
“When I grow up, I want to be just like you.”
No you don’t. You really don’t.
Because they never got that insight into how she really survived each grueling day. They never saw the way her legs gave way the moment she stepped through the door, or how her hand clamped so tightly over her chapped lips her sobs were muffled. No one saw how many times she’d had to sweep pieces of shattered glass from her floor after her shaking hands had lost their grip on a cup, or the state of her nails after she’d picked them to death in an attempt to calm herself.
Everyone only saw what they wanted to see; the good. They didn’t want to know the bad. But Natasha had no choice, she had to live this nightmare. Her whole life had been spent running and she was exhausted from the fear that was always moments away from drowning her. It rested in her stomach like a grenade, the slightest movement could jostle and be fatal. But sometimes it felt more like the lingering touch of a ghostly figure, slowly dragging a nail down her back and igniting all her nerve endings so her body was on fire.
This ever-tense state that she had found herself in was exhausting and Natasha was tired. Simple tasks had become a chore and even small trips to the grocery store would result in a sudden, debilitating wave of tears and laboured breaths. A box of cereal still in hand as she kneeled on her kitchen floor, forehead pressed against the cupboard as she cried a silent scream. Anxiety hit her like a truck completely unexpected, snuffing any hope she had of a ‘good’ day.
But the worst times were the silent days. She had no tears to cry out, no thoughts to tumble into a panic attack about. She was just floating somewhere between wake and sleep, a hazy mess of a woman with no life behind her eyes.
There truly was no one who was worse of an enemy that she was to herself. She wasn’t afraid of death - no one was able to kill her.
No one but herself.
No one could love a killer like her. All the lives she had taken without a single drop of remorse, moving through crowds with a holstered gun like a goddamn machine.
Shoot, reload, repeat. Shoot. Reload. Repeat.
Where did ‘cry’ fit into this? Where did ‘self loathe’ fit into this? Where did ‘drown inside your own mind’ fit into any of this?
It didn’t. It shouldn’t.
Silence wasn’t a word in Natasha’s vocabulary. Screams rang in her ears like tinnitus, although she probably had that too.
‘No one’s going to love you’ she would mutter as she obsessed over her reflection with burning red eyes. Not with those scars. And certainly not when she was so fucked in the head. Who would want to love someone who spent the whole day smiling only to come home, flick off the lights, crawl under the covers and completely break down?
She hated that she craved someone’s touch, the coldness of her pillow failing to replicate the comfort a human would bring. But she was nothing if not a living, painful contradiction. Natasha never let herself get close to people, too scared they’d see the horrors she had to endure. So the chances of ever having someone to hold her at night was becoming slimmer by the day. But it was all the broken little girl inside her wanted. To hear someone’s comforting voice whisper in her ear that she wasn’t a monster. She wouldn’t believe them, her anxiety would fight against it, but to not go through this alone? It hurt her more than she’d ever admit.
The waves got stronger throughout the day until midnight hit and Natasha felt as though she was suffocating, water flooding her lungs as the monsters in her mind finally crawled out of their caves. It was just her in this lonely fight, weakly holding her weapons only to find them clattering to the ground in a matter of minutes.
She was tired, so tired of constantly fighting. She wasn’t born to be a soldier, she was born to be a lover, to be loved. But her trembling lip and curled up body tightened as she wrapped her arms around herself in a grounded effort to ease the pain.
As she silently shook in her bed and finally gave into the horrors, allowing them to submerge her under for another night and drain her energy and desire to live, there was one underlying question that felt heavier than everything else.
Was this her life now? Would she ever win? Or would the end of Natasha Romanoff come not from a wound gained out on the battlefield, but rather from one that had festered inside her for years, slowing growing and expanding until it consumed her in her entirety.
Was there anything worth living for anymore?
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romanoffsbish · 2 months
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Discovering Paradise
Natasha Romanoff x F!R
Request | Sapphic best friends wrapped up in a familiar warm embrace, who knows, they might even kiss… | WC: 1,336
18+ | Minors DNI
Warnings: Idiots in Love
Smut: Dry Humping (Non-Con) | Wet Dream (R) | Mommy (N) | Hinted at Fingering / Oral
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A soft blue light cast out into the otherwise dark living room of your shared apartment; Natasha watched your face in anticipation as an action packed scene broke off on the screen. You didn't even flinch, but had you been awake you would have buried yourself in her to hide from the bloody mess and to her that was amusing.
Natasha snorted softly at the recollection, then she settled down with her arms crossed on your chest, chin propped up to observe you over the film. This was the woman's favorite thing to do, movie nights where you never failed to pass out by the second film. Leaving her the time to appreciate your beauty and it not be weird.
——
Whenever you catch her staring, which is rarely, you always gave her a dopey smile and cluelessly teased her about the crush she very well did have. For Christ sake here she was lying on top of you, but you’d failed to get it and it was never clear to the trained spy if the look of adoration in your eyes was platonic or romantic.
Poor woman was head over heels for you and all she could do was to pine in the quiet moments like this.
Then you broke her trance as you whimpered softly, “Natasha,” and her eyes were wide and moving up. Natasha shifted ever so slightly, trying to see if your eyes were open now, but something about the way her hips moved made you moan loudly in your sleep.
“Oh,” she realized what was going on, her cheeks flushed red and her irises blew. You were best friends, but deep down it was clearly more than that, because what 'best friends' sleep with their fronts pressed together, in the tiniest sleep shorts and whimper their names and moan like that at the softest of touches.
Only the ones with a sapphic prophecy to fulfill...
"Fuck," Natasha groaned her frustrations, her core now alit with a throbbing need, one you seemingly share. The redhead rubbed her face against the exposed side of your neck and swiveled her hips more noticeably.
Once again she was rewarded with a moan, alongside a subtle twitch of your own hips. Natasha paused, pulling away to see your scrunched up expression.
"What are you dreaming of detka?" Natasha posed the question that couldn't yet be answered. "Is it me?" She continued to firmly press her covered pussy to yours, "Fuck, I really hope it is detka, I-I need this so badly."
With the sudden urge to cross the line and make you hers, well, the humping intensified; to a point where you were both far too wet to consider this encounter dry anymore. The intense course of pleasure that rolled through your body woke you with a frightened moan.
"Natty?"
The redhead practically squealed, your sleepy voice was too attractive and it made her entire body quake. "Good morning sweetheart," she husked against the shell of your ear, her wet tongue flicked over the warm skin and you whimpered so deliciously that she nearly came. “You were begging mommy in your sleep…”
Natasha chuckled as you whined, your hips now moving in sync with hers as your orgasms built. It was clear she had more to say, so before she could continue teasing you, you turned your head and sloppily kissed her lips, catching her off guard; rendering her silent as she met your eagerness with her own intensity.
In a matter of seconds she took total control of the kiss that had sent her heart and mind racing. It was exhilarating finally being able to taste and feel you. Knowing that you were not upset but eager to continue this made Natasha stutter in her movements, it was hard for her not to use her fingers on you instead but she knew you were both so close and it would be even hotter if you finished with her bare minimum touch.
To keep herself from giving into her urge Natasha's strong hands fell to your hips, and with the strength of a superhero she flipped your positions, using the moment of shock to slip her tongue into your agape mouth. All the while her firm hands began to help you roll your hips in sync with the way she jutted upwards.
"That's it detka," she murmured against the skin of your throat, you were now panting, breasts heaving against the redhead’s chiseled jaw with every breath you took in. The shuddered release against her cheek with every press of your throbbing core to hers.
“I-I’m clo—.” Natasha cut you off with a breathtaking kiss, she was in the same position as you but for some reason she just craved the simple intimacy to bring her to the edge. “Let go detka, come with mommy.” It was like a landslide the way that you fell over the edge with your roommates command, the abrupt release as you felt the entirety of your body tingle with pleasure.
The way you moaned against her cheek and wet her abdomen through your shorts made the redhead feel a returned stamina but she could tell you needed to rest so she guided your lips to hers for a kiss, just in case this moment was a once off test of chemistry for you.
For now Natasha would hold you close, and pretend that there’s nothing to figure out now. It was once she felt your lips lose their fight that she guided your face into her neck. “Mommy will take care of you, but first you need to rest..." You were lost in your head, unsure of the care she promised, but you unconsciously smiled against her skin at her soft attempt at reassurance.
Thoughts aimlessly swirled around your head while you steadily came down from your orgasm: ‘does she love really me too? — of course she does idiot’; ‘do I tell her? — who knew that dreams really did come true.’
As the haze faded one major thought remained, and it was that you wanted an entire life with Natasha. Not just one wet dream inspired encounter, it would break your heart but you also respected your friendship...
No matter what though, you knew you'd be okay, which is why you broke the metaphorical silence.
"We should probably talk," you chuckled against her neck and you felt the rumbling of her own laughter. "Or we can just finish the movie, take a nap, then I'll take you out to dinner then return to have dessert..."
You, begrudgingly, pulled back from the warmth to catch the look in her eyes. The resentment faded when you saw a deep, genuine swirl of affection in her eyes that was paired perfectly with a natural smirk. It was clear she was patiently waiting for your reply but it was delayed by your need to simply admire her beauty.
The freckles on her face had just begun to pop with the increased sunshine and they looked so pretty alongside her blush. The blush that the steamy sex with your best friend caused. It was unreal that you witnessed the reason for never harboring feelings. Because, yes, Natasha was always going to hold that title, it was never a question, but she's not limited to it either, and she's always been a self-proclaimed a jack of all trades.
So, if she was to be the love of your life you’d hoped she wouldn’t mind and would accept the offer with joy.
When her lips turned into a frown you leaned in to peck them briefly before nuzzling back into her neck where you left a smattering of lazy kisses. "I could use a nap."
Natasha pinched your hips playfully but it was all in good fun because she knew your teasing well enough. Her lips softly pressed to your temple before she shut the TV off and let the sound of your calmed breathing ease her into the best sleep she has ever gotten.
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Kinkmas (3)- Ugly Sweater
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Natasha X Reader 18+
Summary: Whilst coming out of the bathroom, Natasha immediately notices your new Christmas Sweater and can't hold back on her playful teasing and mentions how ugly it is. In fact, she thinks it's so ugly, you should just take it off.
Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings/Tags: Fluff, Teasing, Ugly Sweaters, Thigh Riding, Smut, Dom Natasha/Sub Reader, Praise, Orgasm Denial/Delay, Dirty Talk, Begging, Oral Sex, Fingering, Aftercare, Cuddles
Kinkmas Masterlist
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Opening the bathroom door, a snicker left her lips as Natasha caught sight of the Christmas jumper you were wearing, her hand moving to cover her mouth as you shot your girlfriend a pointed look while rummaging for your phone charger, watching her form on the bed as her lips tugged up into an amused smile.
"Detka," she says, dragging her words out as you approached her on the bed after successfully finding your charger, her arms naturally opening as you melt against her body, her lips pressing against your temple, arms then snaking around you. "I didn't know we were doing ugly sweaters this year," she mumbles against your hair in a teasing tone, your head tilting to gaze into her humoured green, that mischievous smirk playing on her lips as you adjusted yourself on the bed, moving to straddle her lap.
"It's not ugly," you say in mild offence, looking back down at the jumper you had bought for Christmas this year, amazed at how soft and comfortable it was compared to ones you've had in the past. "It's unique," your tone full of confidence as your girlfriend fails to hide the small laugh that escapes her, her eyes taking the ridiculous piece of clothing properly.
The jumper had questionable looking reindeers adorning it, the white stripes indicating different sections as a pattern of Santa hats were under it, followed by a set of christmas trees and then a row of presents, her brow raising in questioning as you followed her line of sight to the section of snowmen, the blue coloured section not matching with the rest of the red and green theme, looking very odd.
"I'm not sure unique is the word I'd use to describe it, Detka," she murmurs, hands cupping your cheek and guiding your face down for an innocent kiss, the action sparking an idea in the redhead's mind, her smile slowly morphing into that iconic mischievous smirk again.
"Is it really that bad?" you ask, a hint of genuine disappointment in your voice as you part of you actually quite liked the sweater, Natasha's fingers resting under your chin and lifting your head up to meet her gaze, your brows furrowing slightly at the look in her eyes, knowing she was planning something.
"Oh Detka," she coos, her free hand gliding down your waist to the back of your thighs before back up, sliding under the fabric to feel your bare skin, her cold hands a contrast to your warm skin making your body tense momentarily. "It is, in fact, I think it's that bad you should just... take it off," her hand emphasises her words by pulling up on your sweater, her eyes searching yours and waiting for permission to do so, eyes sparkling with desire and mischief as you can't help but chuckle at her words, the doubts about the jumper swiftly leaving your mind due to her lips being mere inches away from yours.
"Yeah?" you whisper back, lips tugging up into an amused smile as her smile only widens when you move your hands to replace hers at your jumper, playing with the hem of it and slowly, teasingly pulling it off. "I think I should too," you murmur just before removing the jumper, Natasha's hands eagerly travelling across the exposed skin you just revealed, fingers dancing across your lower abdomen before reaching your lower back and up, swiftly unclasping your bra and pulling it off while your lips meet hers passionately, both of you smiling into it to start with.
A soft moan escapes you when the kiss becomes more intense, Natasha's tongue effortlessly sliding into your mouth and dominating the kiss, arousal pooling between your thighs while your mind fogs with lust, the feeling of her hands burning into your skin as you think you're going to go mad with desire. Her nails faintly scratch your skin, earning a groan in response as you arch your back slightly, pushing your body further into hers prompting her to wrap her arms around you, guiding you into another position.
She positions you on one of her thighs, smirking into the kiss when she hears the affected sigh leave you as she pulls you along it, making you ride her thigh until you start to do it on your own.
"That's it Detka," she praises, making you moan once again, the noise being swallowed by her relentless mouth, lips constantly claiming yours in a hungry and desperate kiss, hands returning to roam your body and tease you. You're finding it hard to think with her actions, fingers grazing the underside of your breasts, thumbs teasingly ghosting over your sensitive nipples while her mouth is hot, soft and dominant at the same time, the two of you only parting for breath, panting heavily against each others mouths as you still can't resist trying to kiss her again, craving her addictive lips.
"Nat," you groan when she finally cups your breasts, squeezing firmly but not too hard, just the way you love it, her fingers grazing over your nipples and pulling on them softly, dragging more sinful noises out of you. "I need you," you sigh out, lolling your head back as she starts to kiss down your jaw and along your neck, nibbling softly and smirking against yours skin at the feeling of your hips grinding against her harder, needing to ease the incessant throb between your legs, the intolerable heat that only she could help you with, "Please."
"You're so impatient Detka," she teases, sucking on part of your skin to leave a mark, her hands moving away from your chest to your ass, guiding you against her thigh once again, a groan leaving you at her slower pace. "You'll get what you want soon," she murmurs, tilting her head back up to meet your lips, claiming them briefly and messily before lowering her head to kiss along your collar bones, sucking another mark as she knew you loved it.
You groaned in a little frustration at her words, wanting to feel the pleasure of your release now but being denied by her, Natasha merely chuckling against your skin at your impatience.
"Nat," you whined, her kisses descending even further down your body, lips at the top of your chest, eyes peering up into your desperate and pleading eyes.
"Soon," she promises, yours fingers threading through her hair when she swirls her tongue around one of your nipples, mouth then sucking on your chest earning a string of moans from you, your clit brushing perfectly against her thigh as she tenses it for you, the surface harder for you to grind along.
"Fuck," you sigh out when she switches to the other breast, lavishing it an equal amount of attention, her hands moving your hips harder and faster against her, your orgasm building swiftly at her actions.
"Don't even think about coming yet Detka," she rasps out, pulling away from your chest, a string of saliva connecting the two before her thumb brushes it away while her eyes are trained on yours, a small, affected sigh leaving your lips at the sight.
"Please, Nat, I'm so close," you plead, knowing how turned on she gets by your begging, your fingers gently tugging on her hair that you've ruffled slightly to make her return to your face, wanting to feel her lips pressed against yours.
"Not yet Detka," she murmurs back before kissing you firmly, hands moving to your lower back to keep you secure before flipping the two of you over, a groan of annoyance leaving you as she denies you, her lips silencing you. "I want to feel you coming all over my tongue," she purrs at the shell of your ear, biting softly on your earlobe as you whimper at her words, hands reaching out to her waist, sliding under her simple black jumper, desperate to feel her bare skin.
"Shit, Nat I want you, I need you. Please," you moan out into her mouth as she kisses you with a newfound hunger, her fingers replacing yours at her jumper, pulling the item off swiftly before unclasping her own bra and tossing it somewhere in the room, not bothered where at the moment.
"You'll only ever need me, isn't that right Detka?" she murmurs with a smug smirk against your skin as your nails scratch down her back softly, the redhead aware of the effect she had on you as her fingers slide your joggers down, lips descending down your body once again.
"Yes," your tone a whisper as your back arches against her, the feeling of her lips kissing down your body making your body delirious with arousal and desire, the redhead groaning at your voice, loving the way you say you're hers. "You're all I need- Fuck, please do that again," your words are interrupted when she drags one of her fingers against your soaking core through your panties, the fabric drenched with your arousal, body begging for her touch.
"So desperate," she mumbles, tone laced with dominance as she looks up from her place between your legs, hands gliding across the back of your thighs, teasing you. "So wet," she adds, doing as you asked and sliding her finger across your clothed core, a sinful groan escaping you, head lolling back against the mattress. "If you want it that bad Detka, beg for it."
"Please," you whimper, pleading her with your eyes, her fingers sliding under the waistband of your panties and caressing the skin there in an affectionate manner, waiting for you to continue, "Nat, I've been good, please touch me, please make me come." Her breath fans over your sensitive core as her teeth gently bite down on the fabric of your panties, dragging the item down your legs and admiring your aroused and desperate form watching her, mouth parting in a small, affected sigh. "Please Nat, I need your fingers, your mouth, Fuck, anything at this point," your words are cut off by a pathetic whimper, the redhead finally lowering her mouth to your dripping core, her eyes trained on you as she wants to watch you come undone.
"Fuck Detka," she groans, eyes darkening with desire as her tongue swipes through your folds, tasting your arousal and making your hips buck up against her mouth, her hands holding your body down. "You taste so good," her accent delicately wraps around her words in a way that makes your head spin, the added raspiness going straight to your lower abdomen, her mouth exploring your sensitive sex as sinful sounds spill from your lips.
"Shit, I love it when you do that," you moan out, her lips wrapping around your clit and sucking gently, your hands reaching down to tangle in her hair softly, fingers surrounded by the red silky locks. "Nat," your voice a low sigh, the noise soft and sensual as her face nuzzled closer to where you needed her, her lower face coated in your arousal as you were just so addicting, tongue swirling over your clit before sliding lower, teasing your entrance.
"Such a pretty mess for me," she murmurs against you, her mouth returning to your clit and sucking a little harsher than before, your back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure flooded through you, one of her hands sliding around your thigh to pull you closer. "All mine to ruin," she rasps out, a guttural noise leaving you at her words and the feeling of one of her fingers effortlessly sliding into you, walls desperately clenching around her digit.
"Nat," you pant out, head lolling back against the soft mattress, fingers tightening their grip on her hair, hips trying their best to roll against her mouth in search of friction.
Your desperate tone and actions encourage her to push you over the edge, her digit curling inside you at your sweet spot, pleasure building in your core as you clench around her, the redhead's mouth then kissing your clit again to drive you mad, tongue swiping over to make your hips cant up.
"Fuck, don't stop," you groan out, fingers holding her head still as she slides in another finger, moaning into your core, the vibrations pleasing you as your mind clouds with arousal, vision almost blurring with euphoria. "Please can I come?" you ask, voice laced with submission as your eyes gaze down at the sinful sight of her between your thighs, her darkened green entranced by your state.
"Come for me," she husks out, taking your clit back into her mouth and sucking while her fingers continue to curl inside you, letting you fall over the edge with a guttural moan, back arching further off the bed as your legs trembled, hips rocking against her face at the pleasure that filled you. A pleasant buzz consumed your body as you rode out the aftershocks of your powerful release, your body practically going limp on the bed at the exhaustion of coming so hard.
Natasha listened to every soft pant that left you, every hitch of breath as she didn't stop her actions, moving her tongue to replace her fingers inside you, lapping up your come and arousal that she could taste.
She only stopped when your hand softly tugged on her hair, silently asking her to stop, which she did immediately, gradually sliding her body away from between your legs. She straddled your waist, her eyes trained on yours as they fluttered open, meeting the softening green and watching in awe as she slid her fingers into her mouth, cheeks hollowing as she groans at the taste of you on her fingers, your lips parting for a small, affected gasp.
"Come here," you mumbled tiredly, hands reaching out for the curve of her hips as you pull her body down against yours, claiming her lips softly as she lets you kiss her how you want. Her body relaxes against yours, her fingers brushing back a few strands of your hair while your hands cup her cheek, keeping her close as you inevitably smile against her mouth, the redhead eagerly reciprocating the action.
Her lips peck yours once more before pressing a loving kiss to your temple, her body rolling onto her side as she pulls you closer to her, wanting to take care of you.
"We need to clean up Detka," she whispers, knowing how tired you were but more focused on staying hygienic and safe. You grumble in response, face pressed against her chest, arms defiantly wrapped around her middle as you just wanted to savour the calm moment, her fingers scratching your scalp soothingly. "Come on, it will be quick," she murmurs, managing to get you out of the bed and into the bathroom to clean up, her hands gentle as she helped take care of you, smiling softly at the way you craved to feel any part of her body.
Eventually, after many loving caresses, the two of you leave the bathroom clean and completely naked, a request on your behalf, before sliding under the covers, bodies naturally drifting towards each other.
Your face nestled at the crook of her neck, the warm and soft skin lulling you into a peaceful state as you melted in her embrace, exhaustion slowly creeping up on you.
"Nat," you mumble, tiredness evident in your voice as you move your hand to glide up and down her toned back, smiling a little at her neck when you feel her relax even more into the impossibly soft mattress.
She hums softly in response, a hint of curiosity audible in the noise as she lets her lips press delicately against your hair, waiting for you to continue.
"Was the jumper actually that ugly?" your voice a mere whisper, eyes closed as you savour the comfort and security of her neck, her body shaking a little under you as she laughs angelically at your words.
"Oh Detka," she coos, smiling against your locks as she can't help the warmth bubbling in her chest. "It was, I'm sorry," she honestly tells you, a grumble leaving you as you snuggle further into your body.
"I'll get a new one," you mumble, an idea popping into your tired mind, "I'll get a Black Widow themed one and there's nothing you can do to stop me." At your words, Natasha can't help but chuckle lovingly again, her head shaking at your antics.
"Ok Detka, you do that," she murmurs tenderly, letting you think you've gotten your way as she could feel your little smile against her neck, the redhead not having the heart to deny you.
"Goodnight Moya Lyubov," she whispers after a moment, the sounds of your gentle snores taking over the room as Natasha slowly drifts off to sleep, content with having you wrapped up in her arms.
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wandasaura · 26 days
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GOLD THATS IN YOUR EYES
summary — you’ve known natasha romanoff since she first defected to shield, but it’s taken you years to realize that you’ve loved her since then too
warning(s) — fluff, mentions of the ohio mission, hurt/comfort
prompt — finding excuses to be alone with each other x noticing their individual quirks
song — mood ring by kira kosarin
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🌞⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰🧺꒱ 🌷 ・ mommy maximoff ✧
Natasha Romanoff was not a very sociable person, in fact, she was quite the opposite. Most people would be surprised to learn that the infamous ex assassin was admittedly somewhat of an introverted homebody, preferring the chosen silence of isolation over bustling crowds where judgment ran wild. For a woman with such a bold way about her, she was admittedly rather soft. She was soft in the way she moved around the kitchen when nobody was around to watch her frolic through cabinets on the balls of her feet, arches deep and perfect, and heels exquisitely raised above the floorboards. She was soft in the way she spoke, too. Her words were always calculated, always direct, and blunt enough to be chalked up to dry humor, but if you listened closely, if you closed your eyes and let the weight of her spoken sentence weigh on your heart in the way she’d never intended for anybody to actually do, you’d notice the soft hitch to her tone that was endearingly Russian, and the way her nose twitched whenever she wasn’t sure how a comment would be received by the masses. Natasha Romanoff was a lot of things, but an arrogant agent was not one of them; not that she’d ever admit that. 
You supposed that she felt a crippling need to assert herself as if she were in a position of calculated authority. Some could say that she was in a stance of power, having been deemed not only a level six agent but also an Avenger by time she was twenty-nine, yet even with the moniker of being the only reformed Black Widow to escape Dreykov’s grasp, Natasha was never the authoritarian she prided herself on being when others were around. Granted, you were never one to challenge the way she raised her chin when she was at the center of a room full of men, and you were never one to comment on how her shoulders squared defensively whenever someone took a step to close for comfort. She radiated confidence and certainty, but beneath all of the hurt that she had turned into defensiveness, she was merely a woman that had been wronged and burned by every bridge she’d ever dared to build. You saw her as such, she knew that you did, so maybe that was why she never tried to act that way with you. It was an unspoken mutual understanding that all bets were off when fate brought you two together. 
Natasha Romanoff played a lot of games. She liked the challenge of breaking down her opponent before they had the chance to break her down themselves, but the second anyone got too close she pulled a mask over her features and her bleeding heart became a loaded gun. You’d never met someone so guarded in your life, and yet she placed all cards face up on the table whenever she got you alone. Natasha Romanoff was not the sick and twisted woman she allowed the general public to believe she was. She woke up screaming from nightmares bi-weekly, the rasp in her gravely tone not natural but consequential. She closed her eyes whenever she washed her hands in fear of the clear water becoming red with the blood of her innocent victims. She stepped only on the tiles that she knew were silent, scared to make ripples in the water and alert attention. People who didn’t know Natasha Romanoff would say she was something similar to the atrocities that occurred beneath the midnight sky, but you would say she was the shadow of sweet flowers that disappeared after sunset. 
You noticed every miniscule detail there was to know about Natasha Romanoff, but you know that she noticed every detail about you as well. She noticed the way you avoid going out in the rain when it’s cold, and how none of your socks ever seem to match even on missions. She noticed how you migrate down to the kitchen in the ungodly hours of the morning just to bake pastries for the team to eat at breakfast, usually cinnamon rolls or blueberry muffins with a crumb coating that Wanda particularly is a fan of, but eventually, she’d unraveled that your little habit wasn’t merely because you wanted to be hospitable toward the people you fought alongside with when extraterrestrial disasters fell to earth, but rather because your mind needed something to focus on when the nightmares of human travesties became too paralyzing and suffocating to handle alone in the dark. The first time her attention to detail became apart was a gloomy day in November, the leaves not all fallen from trees but the air frigid enough to belong in a barren January day. At that point, you’d fallen into a routine of going out for a run through central park each morning, always returning with not only a coffee for yourself, but one for her as well, but with the downpour of raindrops the size of nickels, you’d chosen the lower level gym as your route that day. Natasha wasn’t much a fan of the rain, but she never minded freezing temperatures. She found you in the debriefing room that early afternoon, her hair sodden and crimped from pallets of rain that fell overhead, but in her hands were two cuts of still steaming coffee from your favorite little cafe. She’d tried to say that she was just in the area, but you knew that she had gone out of her way to assure that at least part of your morning remained unchanged throughout the storm. 
Your relationship with Natasha had been an unspoken arrangement for as many months and years as you could remember, but recently things had changed. You’d always found yourself alone in a room, two friends existing within the same space naturally, but lately even that hadn’t felt so innocently charged, and you were as much at fault as Natasha was. The Russian lingered in the kitchen just to watch as you mixed together batter for muffins that Tony would eat half of, but you hung around in the lower level gym just to hand off a water bottle when she completed her workout. Any excuse either of you could grasp onto just to spend a few uninterrupted minutes together had been abused and properly overused, but there was no admission of feelings anywhere close to the tip of your tongue. 
There were some days that passed, even now years later, where when you looked at her beneath the kitchen lights, or against the punching bags, you only ever saw the broken woman that Clint had brought in from the KGB. She’d been merely a shell of herself at that time, fiery red hair matted with knots and the blood of her targets, face smeared with dirt and gunpowder. You hadn’t been on base when she’d been dragged in wearing heavy metal shackles and dehumanizing cuffs, but Maria had filled you in on everything prevalent regarding Fury’s newest asset. It had taken you three weeks to run into her when you returned, traumatized from the loss of your team and spiraling into shallow thoughts of death and finality, but from the very first moment you’d never seen her as a threat, and she’d never seen you as the lucky survivor that walked away from a raid. Her eyes were soft, softer than the wings of a newly hatched butterfly, and when she stood beneath the sunlight on the deck of the helicarrier, accent thick and sweet like the spring breeze that carried pollen beneath its current, you’d seen the daintiest twinge of gold within the green of her eyes. Maybe it was at that moment that you’d known you wanted to spend your entire life at her side, or maybe that had come much later, but what you’d definitely realized in that first month of knowing her, was that she wasn’t as complete as she wanted everyone to assume she was. There was so much despair and longing beneath her mask of confidence and casualty, so many agonizing emotions that she’d never fully overcome. There were times where you wondered what could be missing from her life that even now, deemed a hero and residing amongst people that just wanted to do good by the world, but you always circled back to the heavy acknowledgement that aside from you and Clint, nobody truly knew Natasha Romanoff. She’d spent her entire life beneath the thumb of power hungry generals, and when she’d gotten a taste of freedom and self identification, she’d conformed to be the woman that everyone else wanted her to be. 
Some days however, you saw someone entirely different beneath her eyes that still held specks of gold when the sun fell upon her the right way. You saw a woman that was confident albeit flawed, painfully witty although reserved enough to hide within the walls when she didn’t want to be seen fully. But sometimes when you looked at her, you saw a woman yearning to love in the fullest sense of the word, and that broke your heart the most. She had never been shown unconditional love, never been held softly yet tightly, never been allowed to love back. Natasha Romanoff had been taught that love was the greatest weakness any woman could surrender herself to, and yet she was finally at a point where she wanted to experience the tragedy of loving something temporary. Death was unavoidable, she’d learned that young, but love transpired through isolation even if it never felt entirely complete again. For the first time since you’d met Natasha, she wasn’t scared to submit herself to the experience of loving someone to a fault, even though it meant she could very well lose it all tomorrow. Even if it didn’t seem like it to others, you noticed the subtle ways that she made progress as the years progressed, and each time you looked at her and saw a willingness to explore emotions rather than suppress them, you wanted nothing more than to squeeze her tight and be the one to teach her how to love. 
“Hi.” Your voice was soft, delicate as it filled the otherwise silent kitchen. You’d heard her sneak up behind you minutes ago, but only now did it feel like the right time to greet her. She was close, but too far, pressed against the island in the middle of the kitchen whilst you stood beside the sink, hands full of strawberries that Tony had asked you to turn into something delicious. You’d rolled your eyes at the billionaire who had made a habit of soliciting you for pastries, but here you found yourself in the kitchen anyways, trading hours of sleep for muffins that would be gone by the early afternoon. “Wanna help me?” You laid the freshly washed strawberries on a clean kitchen rag, falling into the process of patting them dry without much thought or intention. All of this came so naturally now; she came so naturally now. 
“I, um, I could actually just go for a hug. If it’s not too much trouble for the busy, Chef.” Her voice was hoarse, scratchy and thick as it fell onto your ears. Without the running tap, you could hear the quiet hitch in her breathing, wheezing exhales falling out into the space between your warm and yearning bodies. Your eyebrows furrowed, hands abandoning the strawberries in an instance. In all the years that you had known Natasha Romanoff, in all the years that you had seen her in the aftermath of a nightmare, she had never asked for a hug. You could count on one hand the amount of times you’d ever hugged her, and they’d all been for your own selfish reasons. You spun around to face her, palms dragging across your pajama bottoms and riding the water that clung to your palms so you could embrace her fully. 
You hadn’t spared her a single glance when she’d first entered, wanting to give her the chance and time to make herself known by her own judgment and comfortability, but now that your eyes traced the delicate shadows across her face, you could make out the unbridled tears brimming in her eyes. She was ghastly pale, a fitful sleep indicative by the deep bruising beneath her eyes. You’d never seen her so distressed, but for a single second you thought about how she’d chosen to seek you out instead of trailing down to the gym and bullying a punching bag like she’d gotten into the routine of doing. 
“Can I touch you?” You asked carefully, not wanting to make any sudden movements and spook her back into her shell of isolation. This was progress, and selfishly you wanted any excuse to pull her in close and hold her tight. When she nodded, a weak and fragile incline of her head, you closed the gap between your bodies and melted into her chest. She held you protectively, like she’d needed to feel you to ensure that you were safe and real. A single hand reached up to cradle the back of your head, and her lips found a home on the crown of your head as she inhaled your scent deeply. “You know you can always ask for hugs. Not just because you had a nightmare, but whenever. I mean that.” 
Natasha cleared her throat, though she simultaneously tightened her grip around your waist as if whatever she wanted to say would be enough to make you either run away or disappear entirely. You didn’t comment on it, letting her have the time she needed to get her thoughts in order. You grabbed onto her sleep shirt, tight fists bunching up the material and holding it possessively. Natasha felt the motions, felt the way the cotton shirt hugged her belly tighter now that most of the slack was taken up by your grip, and you smiled softly against her chest when you felt her breath out evenly.  “Today’s the day we left Ohio.” She started, and immediately your head shot up to search her blue eyes. You’d heard little about Ohio, even littler about the little blonde haired sidekick Natasha found herself protecting for three years, but you knew that what had happened had ruined her. You knew that something as little as moving away was never as simple as it sounded for her. “It was spring break. I left without being able to tell anyone I wouldn’t be coming back. They- They ripped Yelena out of my arms. I– I will always come back for you. You’re the first place that has ever felt like home outside of Ohio. I just– I needed to tell you that I’ll always come back to you.” 
“I will always come back for you.” You meant every word that you said, but you could see a cloud of disbelief hanging over Natasha’s gaze as she let your eyes meet again. There was something different about ehr now, something softer and smaller than you’d ever seen. It wasn’t unpleasant, but you couldn’t bear the thought of her so distraught, you especially couldn’t bear the thought of what she had looked like at only eleven. She’d been so young and the world had been so cruel, you just wanted her to know that she was loved, and she was cherished now. She wasn’t just another soldier anymore. “Nat, can I kiss you?” 
She froze for a minute, arms slackening around your waist as she stared deep into your eyes, an onset of fresh tears threatening to fall from her own, but before you could withdraw your question, before you could backtrack and excuse your vulnerability as simply being exhaustion, she was pulling you impossibly close, settling both of her hands on your cheeks as she cupped your face and settled her forehead against yours. Her touch was familiar and foreign at the same time, a coming of age to all the daydreams you’d fallen into with her at the center of them all. You’d thought about this moment for months, thought about how her calloused palms would feel against every inch of your skin, her she was always cold but not uncomfortably so. Now, beneath the kitchen lights and her greenish-gold gaze, you realized that you’ve wanted her since the very first moment you met her. “I thought you’d never ask.” Her lips, still impressionable with sadness, curled upward into a smirk, but you didn’t waste a second to kiss it away and show her the truth about love and connection. 
Natasha Romanoff had kissed more people then she could keep track of, but never had any of those intimate encounters come voluntarily. For so many years her life had been a means to the mission, but she was free now. Finally, she was entirely free. In so many ways, more than you could even contemplate, you were her first, and desperately you hoped that you would each be each other's last.
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starshipsofstarlord · 2 months
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Modern!Nat Being Your Dealer
summary - natasha romanoff is your dealer, and you go to collect your order, however you seem to have forgotten something important… though there is another way that you can pay for your addiction (2.1k)
warnings - 18+ minors dni, smut, oral (female receiving), fingering, drug dealing, sex in place of payment, swearing
natasha romanoff works other mcu works masterlist
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Everyone struggled in life, and once in a while they needed a little help. There were many ways people went about that, some people went to therapy, others enjoyed a good book, others listened to waves that had been recorded for that specific purpose. But none of those spectacles of aid made you feel any better.
And thus you had turned to substances instead of white noise, specifically one that was more common and less harmful - weed. A large majority of the population did it, and it was nothing to be ashamed about, it just made you unwind from the trauma that skulked in the darkest parts of your mind and coaxed you into a resting state of sleep.
Unbuckling your seat belt, you climbed out of your beat convertible, locking the vehicle behind yourself as you strode towards the locked hinges of your e of dealer's door. It felt suspenseful every time that you came here, knowing that it could be your last if your supplier was overturned by the forces for her illegal actions actions, and you wouldn't exactly be ignored pu so for purchasing from her.
But everything looked crisp and normal, just the way you liked it. Quickly as to not avert any attention you shot Natalia, the Russian importer a text letting her know that you had arrived to the destination where she handled business. It felt like a lifetime as you awaited for her to open the door and usher you inside, and once she unlocked the barricade of privacy you felt like you were hit by a brick.
It didn't matter how many times that you had seen the astoundingly attractive redhead, you always felt as though you were experiencing whiplash from being greeted with her appearance. It was an unruly kind of magnetism that she styled herself with, her lipstick was blurred subtly past the lines of her actual lips, her short bob was twisted with curls that she had no doubt patiently toyed with as she sat there, looming behind the frosted windows for her buyers.
And you were no more than another one of them, you had to remind yourself, even as slithered past her, both of your breasts briefly brushing as she allowed you entry before she followed your footsteps to the main room after bolting the door shut to as it had been. As usual you took a seat in the dusty and quaint living area as usual, her taking place opposite you as she disgustedly brushed specks off the fabric arm of the chair.
"I don't live here if that's what you're wondering." She smirked, making it undoubtedly clear that her tastes were too clean to permanently reside in a place like this. "So I'll take it you're picking up the usual?" It was the safe assumption on her part, there was no kindness in coaxing you to spend more on the grams of freedom that she rationed out for a price. Not to mention, with spare product there would no doubt be another soul that was prepared to take it off her hands.
"Yeah, please." A curt nod had the woman lounging her body to stretch so that she could pick up the complimentary medicine that she had self prescribed you for. The normal amount was visible through the small and clear baggy that carried the goods, and you immediately rushed to find the notes that would allow you to proceed in your pockets. But they were gone. Shit. This was the last thing that you needed after the day that you had endured with the whispers of thought that clouded your brain.
Panic settled over you, and thus with a dry mouth it was with wise decision that you chose to speak up. There was no point beating around the bush, after all this was your first slip up when it came to this, and you prayed to every ethereal being that it would be the last. "I seemed to have forgotten to put the cash in this jacket, would it be okay if i were to come by later to collect again?" It was embarrassing really, there was nothing that screamed being newer to the scene of all this mutual transaction than forgetting the payment.
"Trial and error one would say." Nat slouched back, dropping the bag mockingly in her lap so that you could see. "The problem is I'm not available for business later." So stupid, you thought to yourself, insulting yourself because she wouldn't for your blatant and misconducted dumb foolery. It certainly may have ben a mistake, but you were no doubt paying for it because you could not pay for what you had really wanted. With a gulp of apologetic waver of disregard, you stood on your two feet, eyeing the door as your escape.
You were just about to begin walking when the red headed conductor silenced all movement your body was ready to perform. "Uh, uh, uh." The noise of scolding that she proclaimed towards you made your heart beat a little faster, afraid that she was going to refuse future service to you altogether. However much you dreaded what she was going to say, you politely listened, intending to remain on her good side. "If you have time to spare, I don't mind being paid in other ways..."
"I'm sorry, I don't quite understand what you mean." Maybe it was plain obliviousness to Nat's ultimatum of a suggestion, or perhaps you didn't quite believe your body's instinct to the prowess in her eyes that made your spine coil in a retrograde of quivering arousal, but you avertedly decided to play it dumb. She stood, and strode towards you like a vixen, her wide eyes scorning every inch of your vessel, humming contentedly to herself.
"Don't be so naive little y/n," her tongue peeked out from her mouth, swiping languidly across her plump bottom lip. "You'll still be a respectable woman, you'll just have to respect me too... in an intimate way." Thinking to yourself, the hunger that ran through your veins which yearned for the intoxicating compulsion of the confident redhead was strivingly eager, and the addictive stock that sold, was endless.
"W-what did you have in m-mind?" You wanted some clarification before you drowned yourself in an action that could exempt you from her clientele, even if she had been explicit, only leaving the details of prolific actions out from her spoken equation. The thumping of your heart beat within your ears, running through your bloodstream that was declining from a subsidised high, as you ogled curiously at the the woman with priceless leverage.
"We all have things we want y/n," she admitted vaguely before going into detail, "and I, in exchange want you to give me an orgasm." Her hands rubbed soothingly up your arms, her skin surprisingly cold upon your flesh. She could sense your nervousness, it was openly apparent as you shivered for both her touch and the calming rush that would absorb itself into your form.
"Okay." You spoke meekly, withholding how eager you were to persevere provocatively towards the mysterious woman. A coy smile weaved its route upon her defining features, causing your walls to flutter obscenely below where they were dressed. You'd always thought that you would be above soliciting yourself in exchange for anything, but it proved to show that you could never be certain on an agenda until you came to the crossroads of it.
Your tongue poked outside of your mouth, nervously grooming the indents and crevices at the corner of your lips, preparing yourself for what Natasha was expecting. It made you realise how little you truly knew about the woman before you, the name that she had given you to address her by may have all been a hoax, to conceal her identity from any enforcers whom bought the stronger stuff from ratting her out to the feds.
But in the predicament that you had stumbled obliviously into, you needed to be nothing more than acquainted, it wasn't love, it was just business derived from the figments of pleasure, and whilst you were allured by the pros and cons that weighed argumentatively in your mind, you couldn't help but give this instance a block from your overthinking mindset. "I'm glad to hear," she conveyed, causing a deep laughter within her chest to be released as she noticed how tense that you had become.
She liked to see you squirm, she had decided. And perhaps next time you would forget payment again, of course she wouldn't mind if your skills were up to her standards of course, and if they weren't, she would unshackle the bedroom nerves that you were enduring with her own set of amorous control. The air hung thick between the both of you as she strolled casually back towards the seat that she had already claimed prior to your arrival, sitting down and spreading her clothed legs wide.
"Come here, and make me cum." Her instructions were far too persuasive, and you couldn't refrain from doing as you were told, willingly you fell to your denim clad jeans, watching intently as Nat unbuttoned her own trousers. "I don't even need to tell you what to do." She verbally observed, pushing down the layers covering her bottom half, including her lace designed panties. Her actions served you with the view of her core, and the sight made you salivate.
A part of you felt dirty, but you procured it in an encouraging way, as this was exactly how she wanted to see you. The position that you were in made warmth flush between your legs, even more so when her drug dealing hand swept into your hair, pulling your face closer to her cunt with the harsh grip that she had. You glanced up to watch her lust drowning eyes, before you entangled your lips with her lower ones, tasting her juices on your tongue.
You ran your tongue up her slit a few times, testing the waters before you suctioned your lips around your clit, sucking on the nerve filled bud, her body being devoured by heavenly sensations. "Fuck me." Her breath cast the words out as her emerald irises became obliterated by the bleakness of her pupils, and in a way you were, and to fuck her further into the pleasure that was flooding her veins, you raised your dominant hand, tracing your fingers around her slick entrance.
With integral driven lust, you pushed one of your digits inside of her, her hand weaving tighter within your locks, and forcing your face further into her cunt. You were amidst in an overwhelming sense of reality, as you hollowed your cheeks so that you could put more pressure around her clit. Her mouth gaped open as she leant sporadically in her seat, her hips bucking into your jawline as her legs wrapped around the back of your head.
Pumping your fingers at a quicker pace, you could feel her walls contracting around you tighter, and her moans evoking to a higher pitch. Her sounds echoed around the room that was in need of more furniture, and you knew that she was getting close, and so you continued on with your actions, daring to enter another finger inside of her, which made her reach her breaking point. Her lips floundered in a silent scream, as she came around the fingers that you had stuffed inside of her.
You continued slowly with drawing out her orgasm, before you pulled back and allowed breath to be inhaled through your mouth, removing your fingers so that you had the opportunity to lick them clean. After a few minutes passed, she unravelled her legs from how they had been pressed around your skull, deciding to sit up straighter, as she glowered at you, returning to her formal confirmation.
Silently she slid her underwear and bottoms back up her legs, leaving her fly open as she watched you stand before her, almost desperately. She was almost convinced to return the favour, but that wasn't what it was, instead it was payment, and she had the professionalism to an extent to make that clear. "Pleasure doing business with you again. Here's what you wanted." She threw the baggy at you, and surprisingly to yourself, you had caught the clear packaging that was filled with your goods.
In all honesty you had forgotten all about the weed, you had fallen into a spiral of delightful passion, and you could still taste her on your lips. Now it felt awkward, she was awaiting for your departure without a doubt as she expectedly nodded towards the door. "Uh, thanks." You fumbled with the bag, finding yourself to forget your money again, with purpose, the next time that you visited her to collect.
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widowmaxff · 3 months
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if you wanted to, could you please write an angsty oneshot of moms!wandanat and reader where they get into a a bad argument which results in reader running away to yelena’s? ending could be happy or sad- up to you overall!
proud
pairings: parents!wandanat × daughter!reader | yelena × fem!reader (all platonic)
warnings: angst, argument, crying, insecure reader (?), happy ending!, steve × reader (platonic) at some time of the one shot, bad writing
a/n: i finished this crying because a cockroach attacked me, so thats why the ending was kind of bad writing sorry :P anddd tysm for your request <333 i loved writing this
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You were never sure when it started, but it was probably a long time ago. When you learned that having parents who fought the super villains in the world wasn't normal, you realized that your life wouldn't be normal either. But even though you liked seeing your mother training with her red powers or running and being able to do whatever you wanted through the great corridors of the Compound, you still missed having a 'normal' life.
Being able to go out on the street without worrying about some evil man who hates one of your mothers kidnapping you or even being able to make friends at school without them being people who just wanted to meet your uncles, were things you wanted so much to experience. But that wasn't the only thing that made you feel bad in your daily life, having mothers who were superheroes also made you barely see them in weeks.
Even though most people your age didn't want anything to do with their parents anymore, you still missed the comforting and long hugs, the nights you had a marathon of your favorite movies and even when you still had dinner together as a family. But now, either they were too busy with work, like missions and paperwork, or they just didn't want to deal with a teenager.
And even then you tried to get their attention in some way. "Mom?" You knock softly on Natasha's office door, hearing a quiet response for you to enter. "Can you help me study for my test of the next week? I really don't understand this." You chuckle seeing your mother's eyes continue on the papers on her desk.
"Can't you look up the answer on the Internet or something? I'm really busy here, Y/n/n." You knew that Natasha would dismiss you somehow, but deep down you still hoped that she would look at you.
"Yes, but- I wanted to understand how to solve it and not just research it." You whisper, watching your mother write something down in the corner of the paper.
"Wanda can help you." She says, her eyes unable to take the words from her face for even a minute.
"Okay- um, thanks anyway, Mom." You only hear a mumble under her breath, making you wonder if there was something wrong with you. You close the office door with a little less hope this time. Your other mother was always a step ahead than Natasha in terms of emotional comfort, so maybe she would help you in your task by remembering your daily difficulties with that kind of thing. "Mama?"
"Yes?" Your mother murmurs, you barely listening. Wanda was sitting on the sofa at the Compound while devouring herself with a book in her hands.
"Can you help me study for my test of the next week, please?" You sit next to her while Wanda flips through another white page of the big book.
"Now?"
"Yeah. If it's possible."
"Can I help you...tomorrow?" Wanda finally looks at you from above her book. "Today is my only day off from the week's missions and paperwork and I'm really tired right now, my love." Your eyes fall to your hands in your lap, it was obvious that deep down you knew she was going to promise you something and maybe she would deliver. But by the time the next day passed, and then the next, and then the next... and Wanda didn't talk to you about it, you knew she wasn't going to help you.
And when you felt your head hurt just looking at that big red note in the corner of your test, you knew your mothers' wouldn't react so well to it. Maybe before they started spending time apart from you, they wouldn't get mad or anything like that because of your grade, but now you were sure that wasn't what would happen.
Stirring your fork on the plate still full of food, you go over the things you would say to your mothers' about your school grade. You travel between words and don't even notice when someone enters your field of vision. "Is everything okay, Kid?" It was your Uncle Steve. He sits in front of you watching you think about what to say to him.
"Yeah, it's just...school stuff."
"Is someone picking on you?" You knew that Steve almost saw you as a daughter, and you also knew that he was aware of how your mothers would rather be busy than deal with a teenage girl going through puberty, and that maybe now is the time when you needs them the most.
"Not like before, but that's not it." You leave your fork on your plate before sighing deeply. "I just got my test and I didn't get a very good grade," Murmuring you hold back the tears that sting your eyes. "now I don't know how I'm going to tell my mothers this."
Steve sighs. "I'm sure they won't fight with you, Y/n/n. Your mothers' will understand what happened and a grade doesn't define who you are, okay?" Your uncle didn't have much certainty in his voice but you tried to believe him anyway. You nod and put a small smile on your face, as a gesture of thanks.
Steve ruffles your hair, getting up from the chair when he hears the loud and unmistakable footsteps of your mothers' approaching you. He sends you a smile to try to reassure you that everything will work out, and with each step closer to you, your heart starts to accelerate. Your mothers' had a neutral expression, even if Natasha seemed angrier. "Aren't you going to eat?" Wanda asks, walking past you and heading towards one of the closets.
Completely ignoring the question, you take a deep breath and swallow hard. "I received the grade for that test in which I asked you to help me study." You mutter as you saw your mothers still facing away from you. "I got a D." Your voice was low, but even so, the two stopped what they were doing and looked into the depths of your soul.
"You got what?" Natasha seemed to finally understand that you were there. Her arms crossed as she walked towards you.
"I-I asked for help and-"
"Now you're trying to get out of this by blaming us for not helping you?" Wanda cuts you off making your eyes focus on her.
"I'm just saying- I tried, okay?!" It could be said that you got anger issues from your mom genes, or that you were just overwhelmed and your patience was running out. And when your tone of voice increased, you knew Natasha's anger would increase as well.
"Hey, don't talk to your mother like that!" Natasha slams her fist on the table in front of you, making you almost jump out of your seat.
"Well, you shouldn't be talking to me like that either." You didn't know where so much courage came from to fight back against your mother, but when you realized it, the damage had already begun.
"I'm your fucking mother, I talk to you however I want!" Natasha had never made you feel as scared as you did now, but it seemed like now that the words started to come out, they wouldn't stop.
"Ah, you haven't even been acting like a mother these past few months. Hypocrisy, huh?" When you finished speaking, you saw Wanda's eyes want to turn red like her hair. She approached the two of you quickly with the angriest expression you had ever seen.
"What's your problem, Y/n?!"
"My problem?" You get up from the chair and cross your arms, anyone who saw you in that position would notice the similarities in anger between you and Natasha. "You tell me! I'm not the person who would rather spend time anywhere else than with her own daughter. I'm not the one who forgets that she still has a daughter to raise!"
You screamed so loud that you were sure the entire Compound could hear that argument and that they could probably feel the tension in that environment from afar. If you were in a cartoon, you could see smoke coming out of Natasha's head and definitely Wanda's eyes catching fire. "You're being so selfish right now, Y/n." 
"Am I?"
"Yes, you are! Just because your mother and I work all day to give you a better life, you think that we don't pay attention to you?" You had never seen Wanda like that, screaming and looking like she could kill anyone who came in front of her.
"Ah, yeah. Because last week when you weren't working you preferred to spend the whole day with Peter than with me just because he got a good grade!"
"Yes, because he always made us so proud by passing all the tests he had, unlike you!" Natasha spits the words out of her mouth without even thinking about what she was saying. And when they passed your ears you could feel your heart breaking.
Hearing that your mothers were more proud of a teenager who worked with them than they were of you made you feel like a gunshot was slowly passing through your chest. Natasha and Wanda knew how insecure you felt in your daily life, mainly due to academic validation, and now it seemed like all those days they had to spend helping you feel better about yourself were going down the drain.
Natasha sighs deeply when she sees your eyes widen, holding back tears that would fall at any moment. Wanda didn't seem any different when she heard the same words coming out of her wife's mouth. She never imagined that an argument of that size would ever happen between you, and Wanda could have sworn that she felt her heart stop beating out of disgust at the thought of how bad you must be feeling right now. "Y/n, I didn't mean-"
"It's okay." You murmur, uncrossing your arms. Two tears fall from your eyes and you make sure to wipe them away quickly. Your eyes were anywhere but on your mothers, because you felt so disgusting knowing that they were more proud of Peter than they were of you, that you couldn't even look at them.
Neither Wanda nor Natasha say anything when you turn and start walking out of the kitchen. You seemed to be walking automatically, your eyes blurry and your mind foggy, just going through your mother's words, over and over. But when you realize it, you're already outside the Compound, a few blocks away. You remember only one person who could help you outside of that place, and who wouldn't mind if you showed up suddenly.
And that's how you found yourself in front of Yelena's apartment, your aunt. She had found a place to live close to Natasha's house when she reconnected with her years ago, and especially when she discovered that she had a daughter, you. "Y/n?" Yelena seemed confused to see you there, with your face soaked and red, looking like an abandoned puppy. "Hey, what's wrong?" She didn't take long to have you in her arms.
"M-Mom and Mama h-hate me." You finally managed to murmur after some time sitting on the sofa in the apartment with Yelena stroking your hair and saying affectionate words. 
Anyone who saw her doing this wouldn't believe it. Yelena wasn't the type of person for physical touches and especially sweet words, but when the subject was you, she became another person. "Why do you say that? They love you more than anything, Y/n/n."
"No, they don't."
Yelena had never seen you like this, not when you cried for days when you saw your favorite character dying, not when your mothers had to leave for a long mission. It was strange to see you crying almost as if there was no air in your lungs, your aunt wondered what happened to make it look like you had a bullet in your body and you were begging her to take it out. So, when you fell asleep crying on the couch, Yelena didn't wait a minute to call Natasha and insult her in every way possible. "What the fuck did you do?"
"What?"
"Y/n showed up at my door, I've never seen her crying as much as she does now." Yelena looks at you from the apartment's kitchen, you were curled up on the sofa with a blanket covering your body.
"Are you with her? Wanda and I were looking for her throughout the entire Compound." Natasha seemed to be relieved on the other end of the call, but even so her voice still sounded apprehensive about what had happened. "We're going to your apartment, I'll answer your question when we get there."
"You better!"
[...]
"She's sleeping on the couch." Yelena says when she sees Wanda and Natasha's eyes follow behind her, trying to find you. Yelena noticed Wanda's red eyes, not as if she wanted to cast circles of magic through her hands, but as if she had cried before arriving at the apartment. Your aunt knew that Wanda was sensitive, especially when it came to the topic of you and that you probably inherited that from her too, but for you two to cry so much like that, something really happened. 
"Tell me what happened before you look at my niece again." Yelena has always been very protective of you, for example the time two girls made you the target of jokes in your school, and your aunt didn't wait a second to go to each of their houses and have a word with them. 
"I better show you." Wanda says getting closer to Yelena, moving her fingers that came out red magic towards her mind - Steve messing up your hair, Wanda opening cabinets, red grade, Natasha screaming, you screaming, not being a mother, Wanda screaming, Peter being mentioned, not proud, disgusting feeling, you crying, you leaving the kitchen.
"Jesus." Yelena sighs deeply, running her hands over her face. "I really don't know how you're going to fix this, but I'll warn you: the hole is deeper than it looks."
"What- what do you mean by that?"
"Look, I'm sure you didn't want this to turn into a big snowball, but Y/n been feeling neglected for so long that after today it might take a while for things to get back to normal." Yelena says leaning on the front door frame.
"We didn't-"
"Yes, you did this to her. Today wasn't the first time she's shown up at my door in the last few months, but she's worse than the other times." Yelena crosses her arms and closes her eyes trying to calm down. "I had to listen to her talk about how you hardly talk to her on a daily basis, how you forgot to go to her presentation at school and didn't even apologize, how there were days when you forgot to pick her up and she had to walk in the rain to my apartment because it was closer, how she cried because you never had movie nights again because apparently now you have movie nights with Peter." Yelena's voice got louder with each thing she remembered you saying to her, and there were countless things. "I don't want to hear what you have to say, I want you to talk to her, apologize."
Natasha was so embarrassed to hear all those things from Yelena that she preferred to remain silent. Wanda had started to cry again, but it was silently, digesting all those things they did and didn't do to you. She had always dreamed of being a mother and now that she wasn't acting like one made her want to vomit over her own actions.
"Can we see her?" It was a stupid question coming from them, since they were your mothers and have the right to see you whenever they want. But they knew that everything was messy and bad for you because of them, so the least they had to do was respect your space.
Yelena just nods and gives Wanda and Natasha space to enter the apartment, taking light steps towards you. They bend down in front of you and see your swollen eyes and your red face with dried tears. Your mothers could cry just to see you in this state. Wanda starts to caress your face trying to make you wake up calmly, it was something she used to do when she went to your room in the morning every day to wake you up. And when you felt that you quickly knew who it was. "Mama?"
"Shh, yes it's me, my love." Wanda says with a small smile on her face when she hears your voice. You seemed lost for a few seconds but when you looked around the apartment you quickly remembered, throwing off the blanket and quickly sitting down on the couch. "Hey, it's okay."
"What are you two doing here?" You murmur, looking at your mothers' faces, who seemed sorry for everything that happened.
"We... came to talk and apologize, is that okay for you?" Natasha says, you could see in her face that she felt just as guilty as Wanda, because most of those horrible words were said by her. "Yeah, I guess." Wanda sighed in relief at your answer and felt some of the weight leave her body.
"I know that just apologies won't be enough to make you want to be around us for now, but your mother and I are completely sorry, my love. We were so stupid about leaving you aside these last few months, we didn't even realize what we were doing to you and it's really fucked up." The swear word made you laugh briefly, putting a smile on your mothers face. "And maybe you don't want to forgive us and that's definitely okay, but know that we're going to do everything we can to get things back on track, okay?"
Natasha agrees with Wanda's words and takes a deep breath before starting to speak. "We love you very, very much, sweetheart. And you are our greatest pride in our entire lives. I know you may not believe this, but you can be sure that me, your mother, your aunt and all your other uncles feel most proud of you, okay? You're our little star and our little agent." 
A genuine smile appears on your face when you hear the sweet words that came out of your mothers' mouths. "First, you guys are literally the only people I want by my side and that's the only thing I've wanted these last few months. And I'm really grateful that you guys are sorry about that, even though it's probably going to be hard for things to go back to normal." They nod their heads when they hear your words in your low voice. "And I... forgive you. Not completely but until I can feel good again, but I think hearing you say sorry is a start."
"Okay, yes, that's okay." Wanda leaves a kiss on your forehead and strokes your hair affectionately. "We love you so much, dear."
"Love you too." You say, hugging the two women in front of you, finally feeling maternal affection after feeling neglected for so long and wondering what you had done wrong. Even though it took a while to get used to it all again, you were definitely happier than ever just hearing the words that they were proud of you. "Now I finally don't need to come to talk to Auntie Yelena anymore."
"Hey! I heard that!" Yelena shouts from another room in the apartment making the three of you laugh. You loved making fun of her, but even so, you will always be thankful for all the things she did for you. "Wow you're so ungrateful, Mini Romanoff."
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natashaismylove · 11 months
Text
A meeting in the dark |N. Romanoff
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Summary: A vampire has been causing havoc in the village, making everyone scared for their lives. Y/n decides to take matters into her own hands, but doesn’t realize that that is exactly what the vampire wants…
Pairing: Dark!Dom!Vampire!Natasha x Sub!Fem!Reader
Warnings: Smut, Dub-con, Mentions murder and death, Stalking, Mentions kidnapping, Wooden stake used as a dildo (Reader receiving), Oral (Reader receiving), Nipple play, Teasing, Praise, Sort of public sex, Biting, Blood, Masochism, Sadism. 18+ Minors DNI
Word count: 2k
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You could feel her eyes on you. You could feel her watching your every move as you walked through the woods. You couldn't hear her, you couldn't see her, but you knew she was there. Your wooden stake was secured to your belt, hidden by your jacket, and you hoped you could reach for it in time.
You knew this was a stupid idea. Using yourself as bait to kill a vampire wasn’t ideal, but you had to make do. You couldn’t allow more people in your town to die. You didn’t want to see any more corpses bled dry with bite marks on their neck. 
You nearly caught your foot on a root sticking up from the ground, but you were quick to regain your balance as you continued further into the woods. You let your mind wander, thinking about all the friends you’d lost to this wretched vampire. You wanted her dead.
“Where exactly are you taking me?”
You felt your blood run cold as you froze. She knew you were aware of her. You pulled your stake out from the holster, grasping it tightly in your hand. You heard a twig snap behind you and you knew she was approaching. Her steps came closer and closer until she was just close enough for you to-
Her reflexes were quicker than yours and she caught your raised hand clutching the wooden stake. She let out a cold chuckle, “You were going to stab me, huh? That’s not very nice of you.”
You clenched your jaw in fear, staring at the pale woman in front of you. Her red eyes bore into yours, a wicked smirk on her red-painted lips that almost mimicked blood. You couldn’t deny that she was beautiful, but underneath her alluring appearance was an evil killer.
“What was your plan here?” she tilted her head. “Lure me out into the woods and take my life?”
You knew you were trembling, terrified to your core. Her cold hand wrapped around your wrist was a constant reminder of just how close she was, of how easily she could sink her teeth into your neck and have your dead body on the ground in a second.
“I don’t really think you thought this through, did you?” she laughed. “You’re adorable for trying though.”
She pulled the stake out of your hand and placed it in the waistline of her pants before she started walking forwards, causing you to back up with every step she took. Your breath hitched when your back met with a tree, the vampire's face only inches away from yours. 
Your heart hammered in your chest as she stared down at you, a hungry look in her eyes. You felt yourself nearly get lost in them, but you were quick to remind yourself of what she was. She took hold of both of your wrists in one of her hands, pinning them above your head. She leaned in closer, her nose brushing against your jawline. Her mouth hovered over your neck and you shut your eyes tightly, waiting for the inevitable bite that would end your life.
“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna kill you. Wouldn’t want a pretty thing like you to go to waste like that,” she spoke into your ear, placing a kiss directly under it. 
You blinked in confusion as she pressed more kisses down your neck, sucking gently on your skin to leave a bruise. You felt a moan form in the back of your throat, but you held it back. 
“I’ve been watching you for so long…” she whispered as she moved to the other side of your neck. “Dreamt of you…”
Your breathing picked up at her words. You were confused and scared, but somehow also aroused. You wanted to slap yourself for feeling that way, having such thoughts about a murderous creature.
She chuckled, raising her head up to face you, her nose against yours. “I can smell you, how much this is turning you on.”
You became flustered, your mouth opening in surprise. Said surprise only increased when she quickly took your mouth with her own, kissing you hard. You were taken aback and wanted to pull away, but your body overruled your mind and you returned the kiss. 
This is so wrong rang in your head over and over. You were almost angry at your body for reciprocating, for practically melting into her like this. Her tongue tangled with yours, and a quiet whimper was forced out of you against your will.
The hand that wasn’t holding your wrists slid down your side and to your thigh, raising your leg up against her hip. She placed her thigh between your legs, nudging it up against your center. You moaned at the delicious friction she was creating, a pleasurable shock flowing through your body.
She pulled away but kept her forehead on yours, continuing to grind you against her thigh. “Doesn’t that feel good, angel?”
You kept your mouth shut, shaking your head as if you didn’t want to admit it.
She hummed. “Lie all you want, I can see right through you.”
She placed her hand on your chest, grabbing your shirt before she began to unbutton it. The cold air hit your now bare chest and caused your nipples to harden. You felt so exposed as she looked down at you, taking in all of you with lust written all over her face.
She leaned down and took one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking on it gently. Your head fell back with a moan as she continued, giving your tits just the attention you needed so badly. She moved on to the other one, giving it the same treatment as you continued to let out sounds of pleasure.
She let go of your nipple before she leaned back up. She let go of your hands and took a step back. You looked at her, confused as to why she stopped.
“Undress for me.” She spoke in a low voice, and you knew it wasn’t a question.
You felt shy under her gaze, the guilt over what you were doing burned painfully in your chest. You looked down at the ground before slowly taking off your shirt. You felt embarrassed as you pulled down your pants, now standing in front of her in just your panties.
“Undress completely.” She ordered sternly.
You swallowed and hooked your fingers onto your underwear, shyly dragging them down your legs. You were hyper-aware of the fact that you were now completely naked, standing out in the open in the middle of the forest. 
“Good girl.” She spoke with lust lacing her voice before she stepped closer to you again. She placed her hands on your hips and turned you around. “Hands on the tree.” 
You took a deep breath and did as she told, placing your hands on the tree in front of you. Her hands ran over your ass before she sunk down to her knees, spreading your cheeks to get a view of your pussy. 
She moaned as she watched your hole clench around nothing, your glistening lips were an obvious sign of how turned on you were. “Fuck, that’s a pretty pussy…”
You placed your forehead against the cold tree, trying to control your breathing. That only lasted so long as you felt the air be forced out of your lungs as her mouth attached to your pussy. Her tongue swiped through your slit before circling your clit. She wrapped her lips around your sensitive pearl and you felt your knees nearly buckle under you.
“God, you taste amazing. Could eat you for days non-stop, I swear…” she groaned.
She dipped her tongue into your hole and she felt your clench around her. Her nails dug into your thighs with her tough grip on them as she fucked you with her tongue. You grew wetter and wetter by the second as she caressed your inner walls, nudging lightly against that one heavenly spot inside of you.
She pulled away, playfully biting your ass without actually breaking the skin. She stood up and pushed herself up against you, her chest flush against your back. She placed her hands on your stomach and let one of her hands travel down to your center. 
She parted your lips with her pointer and ring finger, pressing her middle finger against your clit. She started to rub on it while listening to your little whines and whimpers. “You’re so wet for me…” 
You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her playing with you. It felt so wrong but so right at the same time. Her fingers expertly worked you so close to your release, but your eyes shot open as you felt something nudge against your hole.
She smiled against your ear as you gasped when you felt the thick end of your wooden stake be pushed into you. You felt so ashamed as you moaned from being filled up, the stake reaching deep inside of you.
The vampire breathed out in awe as she watched it disappear into you. “Look at how well your pussy takes it…”
Your breath hitched as she started to move it in and out of you slowly, coating the object in your wetness. Her other hand continued to rub circles on your clit to make it easier to fuck you with the stake.
She chuckled as she continued to move it into you. “Isn’t it funny? You were gonna kill me with it, but now it’s deep inside of your pussy fucking you. You love it, don’t you? I’m making you feel so good, aren’t I?”
You only whined in response, refusing to verbally acknowledge how amazing you felt. Her fingers pinched your clit, causing you to yelp. 
“Answer me.” She ordered you angrily. 
You looked down at the ground in shame before nodding. “You’re making me feel good…”
“That’s more like it.” She moved the angle of the stake a little bit until you moaned loudly. “Right there, honey?”
“Mhm!” You hummed as a reply, your head falling back against her shoulder. She continued to hit the spot over and over again and you could feel your body tensing up. 
She grazed her fangs against your neck, placing a kiss on your collarbone. “It won’t kill you if I bite you, it’ll only hurt a bit…you want me to bite you, angel?” She asked you. 
You couldn’t stop yourself from nodding, needing to feel it so badly. Your breathing picked up, your heartbeat hammered in your chest as the knot in your stomach grew. She never let up on moving the stake in and out of you at a hurried pace as she let her teeth sink into your neck. The pain triggered your orgasm and created the most wonderful feeling you had ever experienced in your life.
She released your neck from her mouth and watched as a drop of blood trickled down from the wound. Your body relaxed into her, her arms wrapping around your waist to steady you. “Such a pretty girl when you come for me.”
You blinked slowly, turning your head enough to look at her. She made eye contact with you, bringing her hand up to lightly stroke your cheek. An almost wicked smile played on her lips as she watched your chest rise and fall rapidly. She licked the blood in the corner of her mouth before she spoke. “I’m definitely keeping you…”
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missmonsters2 · 1 year
Note
🤝🏽 handholding with nat!!! fluff?? 🙏🏼
I miss her sm I could die
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Warnings: hand simping. Missing nat :')
Note: every gay has a hand kink I don't make the rules. I'm also having cursed thoughts but I will spare you all of them. pls do not attempt to guess LOL
Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3
Count: ~0.7
Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘
Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
You think you have an obsession with hands—Natasha's hands specifically. 
They're so...delicate. And slender. They're soft, despite having a few calluses on them. 
You like how you can feel every crevice, ridge, and line of her hands when you trace her fingers and palm.
"That tickles, моя любовь," Natasha mumbles, her focus still on her Kindle as she reads. 
Your head rests on Natasha's lap, but you gaze up at your girlfriend's face. She has her reading glasses on, and it just makes you want to scream. 
You continue to trace the outline of Natasha's hand, dipping into the curve between her fingers softly. A small whine is made in the back of her throat as she looks at you disgruntled through the bridges of her glasses.
You feel like clutching your heart at how perfect your girlfriend looks. 
"If you're going to distract me from reading, I will push you off my lap," Natasha quirks her brow at you. "Wanda has been nagging me for months to finish this book, and if I don't today, I'll never hear the end of it from her."
"Don't be mean," you pout. "I just want to hold your hand."
"Hold it? You're practically molesting it," Natasha's voice is amused, and she doesn't pull her hand away from yours. 
You sigh deeply. "Can you really blame me? You have such perfect hands."
"They're just hands," Natasha's tone suggested she was disinterested, but you could tell she was a little intrigued by your obsession. 
"Just hands?" You smile slyly. "Oh, no, no. Natasha, my dear, you have it completely wrong. They're not just hands."
You adjust your hand to line up against hers, using your fingers to press against hers, flexing them. "Not only are they soft and graceful, but they're kind."
"Kind?" Natasha raises her brow at you.
"Mhm," you hum. "These hands wipe my tears when I'm sad. They hold me gently and brush against my lips and cheek before we kiss."
You move her hand, pulling it closer to your lips, and press a kiss gently against the pads of her fingers. Natasha says nothing, but her hands are getting warmer, making you grin. 
"These hands also wicked."
"Wicked...?" 
You nod, savoring Natasha's confused expression.
"They're very skillful. They often tease me right before making me com—" Natasha slaps her hand over your mouth.
"That's enough," she mumbles, her cheeks and ears flushed. Her brows are furrowed, and she looks both shy and exasperated with you.
Natasha's middle finger rests between your lips, and you open them slightly to bite it. It's not in any way hard, and Natasha ends up rolling her eyes at you before she moves her hand away. "Stop being mischievous."
"Then let me hold your hand without complaints," you grab her wrist back, fingers trailing up to the back of her hand, fingers brushing over her knuckles.
"Should I leave you guys alone? Feel like I'm interrupting," Natasha jokes, wriggling her fingers in your face. 
"Oh, do you mind?" You grin back at her, your eyes glinting with a teasing look. "Probably best if you turn away and don't look at the debauchery we're about to commit."
"Ha-ha," Natasha dryly says, rolling her eyes lightly. She pinches your nose, which makes you scrunch up before swatting it away. You still hold onto her hand and press a tender kiss to the back of her hand, lacing your fingers together.
Natasha smiles at you, her eyes softening as she squeezes your hand.
"Is the book interesting?" You ask, finished teasing your girlfriend.
Natasha sighs, eyes trailing back to her Kindle. "It's not bad, just a bit of a slow start."
"Maybe it will be more interesting if you read it to me," you say innocently while Natasha chuckles. 
Natasha starts to read, but then you interrupt her. "Wait, I don't know what's happening. You need to start from chapter one."
"But that was thirty pages ago," Natasha groans.
"I love you," you say zealously, dragging out the words.
There's a long sigh as Natasha places the Kindle beside her on the couch momentarily, using her free hand to start the book over. 
It would've been easier to let go of your hand to do it, but Natasha remains steady, stroking the back of your hand with her thumb. 
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wifeofwandamaximoff · 6 months
Text
The Student and Professor
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Pairings: Professor!Nat x Student!Reader
Warnings: fluff
Summary: The love story of a professor and student.
Author's note: The reader is in college so they will be 18+ and so will be Nat. Thank you so much @natashaswife4125 for the request and I enjoyed writing this and I hope you do too!
"Y/n?" Wanda said while waving her hand in front of my face. I then get out of my daze seeing students start coming in lecture room.
I sigh while looking at my English professor. Staring at her from the farthest part of the room. My best friend sitting right next to me still waving her hand in my face to get my attention.
"She's so pretty." I said, getting lost in my head. Making a bunch of different scenarios in my head about me and my English professor.
Wanda then hit me on the side of my head hard, making me fall back in my chair making a loud noise. Which caused Professor Romanoff to look in our direction with a raised eyebrow.
I then quickly got up and shot daggers at Wanda.
"Hey you were in your own world, that was the only way to get you out!" Wanda said trying to defend herself. I just said nothing but stare at her. I then roll my eyes and turned forward, seeing Professor Romanoff eyeing us with a raised eyebrow.
The bell the rung, signaling that the lesson was about to begin. Professor Romanoff started teaching her lecture.
As a fourth year student at NYU taking a Law degree. I was given a choice between English Literature or Administrative Law. I didn't want to take Administrative law again so I chose English Literature. Which was the best decision of my life because now I have a hot professor until the end of the semester.
Wanda then rolled her eyes when she saw my looking at the professor. She hit me in the back of the head while saying;
"Stop eye fucking our professor and focus on ur work." She whisper shouted.
I jolted at her slap on my head. Turning my head towards her with daggers in my eyes.
"Fine, but stop fucking hitting me!" I whisper shouted. Wanda said nothing but started taking notes on what Professor Romanoff was saying.
Once the lesson was I was still taking last minute notes, Wanda had already left to rush to her next lesson. The students started leaving and soon enough I was the only student left in the lecture room.
Trying to make the notes look perfect, I erased some words to make it look better. I then felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and saw Professor Romanoff standing right behind me.
"Professor?" I said confusingly. I eyed her hand on my shoulder and then back up to her face which had a slight smile.
"Y/n, I was just curious of why u and Wanda were laughing in the beginning of class, I usually see zero happiness in this class since im quite strict." Professor questioned me curiously.
I then started feeling hot, her hand on my shoulder and trying to think up and answer for her question. Anything besides dreaming about us being together.
"I was just telling Wanda about my crush!" I said with a small smile. I mean I didn't technically lie so I should be fine.
Her face fell just a bit, she removed her hand from my shoulder.
"Ah, okay then." She said before walking off, descending the stairs and going to her desk to grade stuff.
I was puzzled at her change of behavior. I decided to just quickly finish my notes and leave the lecture hall. I then gather my things and quickly leave the lecture hall but before I left I felt Professor's Romanoff eyes burning hole in my head.
Hours later I was on campus going into a cafe right next to my dorm. The bell rung signaling that a customer came in. I waited a bit since there was a small line.
I heard the bell ring and I turned around to see Professor Romanoff entering the cafe. It was then my turn to order and I ordered some hot chocolate and paid.
Professor Romanoff order a hot chocolate as well. She then stood right next too me making me start to get nervous.
My hot chocolate was ready so I grabbed it when I felt another warm hand on my own. I turned to look and see Ms. Romanoff also reaching out to grab the hot chocolate. I then froze not knowing what to do.
" My apologies Y/n, I thought it was mine." Apologized Ms. Romanoff. She then took her hand off of mine which saddened me a bit.
"Its alright u can have it, Ill just wait since u probably have somewhere to rush to." I said, offering my hot chocolate.
"Detka, I have nowhere to go. Im in no rush I can wait." Ms. Romanoff explained. When she called me "Dear" , I started to feel butterflies in my stomach.
"No, its alright!" I hastily said. All of a sudden they call out that another hot chocolate was ready. I then quickly grab the hot chocolate. I give her mine of which she confused as hers. Since the one made was quite hot so I gave her the one that cooled down a bit.
"Thank u detka!" Ms. Romanoff said happily. I give her a small smile before leaving the cafe. A huge smile on my face. All of a sudden I felt a hand on my shoulder. A familiar touch.
"Ms.Romanoff?" I questioned once I turned around and saw her.
"Would u like to hangout Y/n? I have nothing to do for the rest of the day." Asked Ms. Romanoff. I felt like I was in a dream. My crush asking me to hangout!??! The best day of my life truly.
"S-sure Ms.Romanoff!" I said a bit too quickly. Ms. Romanoff giggled a bit.
"Call me Nat outside of class detka." Ms. Romanoff told me. Pretty name for pretty lady. I nod at her request. We then start walking out of campus and into a busy street after walking for a while. Talking a bit on the way.
Ive learned some new things about Nat. She has a cat name Liho, a sister name Yelena who loves Mac and cheese with hot sauce. Her favorite colors are black and red and she sucks at cooking.
We then arrived at a shop that sold some clothing.
"Nat, Im gonna go in and look at the clothing if that fine. You can go shop around this area." I told her. She then turned around and raised an eyebrow at me.
"We've come here to hangout Im not abandoning you. Ill come along with you alright detka?" She told me sternly, leaving zero room for argument's.
I just nod my head while entering the clothing store. I was then greeted with a smell of flowers. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a cute top that was white. It would show a lot my cleavage if I wore it and some stomach.
I walked towards it, I felt like it was luring me towards it. Nat was following me, curious of what I was doing. She then saw what I was walking towards.
"Nat look at this cute top!" I squealed in delight of finding such a cute top.
"It is indeed detka, but you can't wear that at school. But I know you would absolutely beautiful in that top." She said with a smile adorning her face. I felt my cheeks start to heat up from the compliment. I then decided this is a must have top so I quickly paid for it and dragged Nat out of the store.
Hours later it was dark. Lights adorning some buildings lighting up parts of the streets. I was holding some ice cream that me and Nat had just bought from a small ice cream vendor.
We were laughing and chatting on the way back to campus. I then looked up at the stars, getting mesmerized by them. I stop walking, staying silent. Nat realizing that I wasn't by her side made her worried for me until she saw me sitting on the grass staring at the stars.
"Its really beautiful tonight isn't it?" She questioned me softly. I just nod at her question.
I then feel her hand under my chin, she then turned my head around to face her's. I then looked at her confused.
She then leaned in and softly kissed me. I was frozen in shock not reregistering the kiss but before I could return it she pulled away.
"I-im sorry! I-i shouldn't have done that!" Nat rushed out quickly. She started to stand up but I grabbed her hand before she could walk away.
I then made her sit down and cup her face with both of my hands making her face squish a little. I then leaned in and kissed her passionately. I then felt her returning the kiss.
We pulled away when air was desperately needed. Our foreheads touching.
"I really like you Y/n..." She whispered to me softly. I pulled away and looked at her with a sparkle in my eyes.
"I like you too Nat, ever since I first saw you..." I said giggling at the end a bit.
"So was I your little crush that Wanda was talking about?" She asked me teasingly. I just nodded, tucking my face in her neck so she wouldn't see me blushing. She slowly pulled my face out of her neck to make me face her directly.
She then kissed me one more time. Marking that start of our love story, and the best chapter of my life.
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ageofevermore · 10 months
Text
ITS BRIGHTER NOW
SUMMARY — until you met your girls, you once believed love would be burning red, but it turns out, it’s everything in between, and that couldn’t be more golden. i wanna be defined by the things that i love, not the things i hate, not the things that i’m afraid of, not the things that haunt me in the middle of the night, i just think that you are what you love
PROMPTS — “sorry, we didn’t mean to wake you” & “will you stay with me?”
WARNINGS — mentions of battle, injury, anxiety, overall just fluff and comfort for arguably the best avengers and their girlfriend
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Like every relationship, yours has its ups and downs. Although most times, you’re met with nothing but outstanding partners who try their absolute hardest to maintain open communication and boundaries, they’re still human, and Avengers, and while some consider that a fairytale circumstance, not many stop to think about how challenging it can be at its worst moments. Not many people, or any at all who aren’t in the lifestyle or one similar, think about how they’re gone for days at a time, sometimes weeks or months if it’s an undercover mission, and how when they finally do get back, they’re never the same as how they left. But honestly, how could they be? They’ve done things no average citizen would ever be expected to do, seen things and handled situations that are dangerous and traumatizing, and just like anyone else, those things haunt them. Wanda is better about unpacking those skeletons in her closet then Natasha is, but the both of them take things personally, and if things go south, it’s never good.
Both of your girlfriends had been gone from the compound for days. They’d been called out to an active Hydra base in Russia, and three days later, things had gone south and they’d been in active combat since. You didn’t talk to them much, with battles and timezones and everything else that got in your way, but you had heard through the grapevine that Wanda was pretty banged up and Natasha had been left with no choice but to shoot to kill after a particularly gruesome fight. Hearing that never got any easier, especially when they were halfway across the world and had no idea when they’d return. It was missions like these that made you yearn for a simpler life. One where Wanda was an artist, Natasha probably took up something flexible like tattooing, and you did literally anything else to just have some peace and quiet and promised safety.
You had met Natasha first, after Maria recruited you to join Shield. She had been skeptical of you, as she was of everyone, but you broke down her walls as easily as you’d picked the lock to Clint’s farm the one time you were placed on a strike mission together. She had been hurt pretty badly, and his farm was the closest place to land. That had been an interesting day, no thanks to your girlfriend who was draped across your arm with a shallow bullet wound and a startled Laura who was screeching about blood on her new couch. Things with Clint were still chaotic as ever, but he eventually got over you busting his brand new lock, and the two of you joked about it now, although now you had a key so no locks had to be busted in the event of an unplanned visit happening again. When you met Wanda, she fell into your dynamic easily, and at first, neither you nor Natasha had realized that you’d kind of adopted her as a third girlfriend until a drunken night when she ended up in your bed and never left. Now, sleeping without them is hard, but you’re forced to manage as best as you can, seeing as you don't really have much of a choice.
It was going onto the sixth night without them home when you finally retired from the couch, and decided to head to bed, figuring that at two in the morning there was no chance of them coming back until the next morning at the earliest. It was hard enough when one of them was on an active mission with no return date, but when both of them were gone, it truly felt like your heart was missing from your chest and you were just going through the motions and holding your breath until they got back. Most people only had one person to worry about, but having two people to lose, with jobs in this line of work, you felt like you were always looking over your shoulder and expecting the worst. As often as they could, your girlfriends declined missions together, even though they felt comfortable on the battlefield together and it was a comfort to not be alone, but neither one of them wanted to risk not coming home to you. They didn’t have a choice this time, so reluctantly they packed up their duffles and headed for the quinjet, with a kiss on your head and a promise that they would fight to come home to you, that they would try to make it back. There were still two mugs of tea on the countertop in the mini kitchen, and although it was disgusting and the tea had gone bad, you couldn’t bring yourself to clean them up. If that was the last thing they ever touched with you, when they were just Wanda and Natasha and not Avengers, you wanted the picture of mismatched mugs burned into your eyelids for the rest of your life. They deserved to be remembered as real, genuine, soft and stubborn, sometimes infuriating but lovable and loved people, not just heroes who had a cause when things went south.
You tossed and turned for probably an hour, groaning in annoyance for how empty your bed felt without them. How had you gotten so attached? That was the one thing you’d tried your hardest not to do when you got into this, and yet here you are, in Natasha’s t-shirt and Wanda’s panties, unable to sleep because the bed feels too cold and the walls feel too big and the room feels too empty and your heart feels misplaced. You’d heard somebody say love is golden once, not burning red, and you’d never understood that until a moment like this a few years ago, when Natasha left for the first time and you were utterly alone in the tower. They were golden, they were light, they were pouring rain in the middle of the day with the sun shining and not a cloud in sight, and they are the best moments of your life that you wish you could frame in a moving picture, because no, a picture can’t say a million words when it’s them. You need every word in the dictionary and then some. You will never be able to elaborate on how much you love them without falling short, and feeling like there's still so much you could’ve said. Everything felt so gray without them. It had to be after three in the morning when you finally fell asleep, probably closer to four, but you didn’t think about how long you’d been waiting up for them, just flopped onto your back and sprawled out like a starfish, and let sleep take over so you could have a few hours without consciously missing them. Missing them was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do.
You’re pulled from your sleep by hushed voices and a door closing, convinced that the hinges are louder at inappropriate times just to spite you. You try to ignore it at first, finally in a comfortable position and getting some rest after a long day of running trials with Cho, but the noises persist despite your displeasure. A sound between a groan and a whine is extracted from your chest when something bumps into the bed, and any thought of going back to sleep leaves your mind. Unlike your girlfriends who can sleep through a natural disaster and fall asleep again if god forbid it wakes them up, once your eyes open you’re awake for the day, and it seems like this is where your day starts.
Although with blurred vision from the very few hours of sleep in your eyes, you’re able make out Wanda hunched over the bed, grasping at her side that is noticeably bloody, while Natasha is digging through the drawers to your left probably attempting to find a loose fitting top for Wanda to change into. All exhaustion leaves your body at the sight of them, and you spring up, rubbing your eyes with a wince as they burn in disagreement with your current state of consciousness. Wanda’s head snaps up, on high alert, but she forces her shoulders to relax when she realizes that it’s just you and not a threat.
“Sorry, we didn’t want to wake you.” She apologizes weakly, through clenched teeth and apparent sleepiness. You wonder when the last time they got a decent amount of rest, when they weren’t looking over their shoulders in paranoia or tossing and turning in pain from an injury that couldn’t be properly treated, but you force yourself to not dwell on it too much. You can’t change the past, and neither can they, all that matters is how they recover, and how they need you to help them heal from everything they were exposed to while in Russia. You’re the clean up, another factor that nobody considers while talking about how romantic and protected you must feel having two superheroes as partners. If anything, you feel more exposed. Like all eyes are on you and a monster is always lurking in the room over.
“No, no that’s okay. I only went to sleep a few hours ago, anyway. Here.” You know that the shirt Natasha is probably looking for is the one currently on your body, and you offer it to Wanda with no hesitation, already making a b-line for her when she just barely has the strength to reach for it herself. You pull the bloodied top over her head gently, thankful that the blood it’s soaked with is dry, and her wound is covered in gauze, meaning they’d probably stopped by the medbay before they made their way in here. “A little banged up, aren’t you?” You comment, although it's rhetorical and you know she won’t tell you how it happened just yet. That usually comes a few days after the mission, when the trauma isn’t so fresh and they’re not still on edge that something else is coming for them. You help her out of her pants as well, thanking Natasha when she hands you a fresh pair of undergarments to pull up Wanda’s legs before you even have to ask.
“We’re still in one piece.” Natasha promises, coming up behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist. She’s tense all over, but she does her best to relax as she holds you, grounding herself in the moment and not the nightmares that have been going around in circles in her mind since getting on the quinjet to come home. “We missed you.” She kisses the skin beneath your ear, lingering for a few seconds before she untangles herself completely and gets ready for bed herself.
“That’s all that matters.” You reassure her, pecking Wanda’s lips gently, knowing she doesn’t have the energy or the strength to match any moment of passion right now. It’s not something that bothers you, maybe it used to, just the slightest bit, but it’s a routine you’re used to now. “I missed you too.”
“I told Steve we’re not taking any missions for a while. Especially not together.” Natasha hands you another one of her tops to slip into, and watches you throw Wanda’s bloodied one into the garbage beside your vanity. She won’t wear it again, not when it’s got so much history now, even if you could get the blood stain out. Again, it’s a routine you’ve found comfort in. The clothes they return home in almost always end up in the garbage, no time for working through PTSD that’s stitched into the fabric when you can just get something new to start fresh in.
“That’s good. I heard from Maria how tough this one was. I don’t know if I slept much the first few days.” You hate to worry them, or make them feel bad, but they hate when you’re not honest with them, and there’s nothing any of you can do about them being sent out on missions, so it’s not like you’re haroboring negative feelings toward them directly, which they understand, but your girlfriends do a great job of beating themselves up about certain things out of their control, this being one of them.
“Or at all. We still have cameras, you know.” Natasha muses, thoroughly amused when you turn a deep shade of crimson and kick Wanda’s discarded pants up toward her. Your other girlfriend, who has been noticeably quiet through the entire exchange, is curled up in bed, looking unbothered by the conversation but intent on finally getting some sleep in her own bed without the possibility of being blown to bits by the enemy.
“Spying on me, are you Romanoff?” You tease, shutting all the drawers Natasha left open and picking up all of her discarded clothes to throw them in the bin as well. She thanks you silently with her eyes that are practically bleeding with pain and adoration, but you don’t say anything. This is the least you can do for them right now.
“Gotta keep an eye on my girl.” Although it’s an easy statement, you know that it’s riddled with nothing but genuine anxiety. Both of your girlfriends are worrywarts when it comes to leaving you alone, for any amount of time but especially undetermined chunks like this mission, and although its heartwarming to be so cared for, it breaks your heart to know that they have valid reasons to be afraid. Another thing nobody even considers when they make comments toward your relationship. Wanda makes a huffing sound beside Natasha and both of your lips twitch in amusement, “On one of my girls, sorry, malysh.”
“You both should get some rest.” You comment, seeing that almost an hour has passed since they stumbled in. You won’t be able to fall asleep again, and even if you could, you’re apprehensive to crawl into bed with Wanda and accidentally hurt her more, so you have all intentions of wishing them a goodnight and going to finally clean up the mugs of tea that are resting on the counter.
“Where are you going?” Natasha wonders, watching you closely, like she’s scared that you’re going to fall apart right in front of her. You hate these moments, when they’re first getting back and they still feel like they’re stranded in a battlefield. It takes days to get back to some kind of normalcy without walking on eggshells, and by that time, they’re usually cleared to start training again and working their strength up for the next mission. One day, you just want to be done, but they’re not ready yet and that's okay.
“To clean up the tea mugs you left before you went. I didn’t have the heart to clean them up, in case…” You train off, but Natasha knows what you’re going to say and her face sinks even deeper.
“In case we didn’t come back.” She finishes your thought, hand rubbing Wanda’s back now that the woman is on her belly, seeking pressure against her wound that’s probably aching beneath the gauze. She shouldn’t be putting any pressure on it, but you’re not about to scold her right now. She needs to be comfortable, any torn stitches can easily be mended tomorrow morning when she’s well rested.
“Yeah.” You breathe out, releasing the tension that gathered in your shoulders at the simple thought of losing them. They’re okay this time, you can let go of all that pent up anxiety and dread for the time being. But it crosses your mind that there's always next time, and they might not get so lucky.
“Will you stay with me? Please?” Wanda asks, voice muffled by the pillow her face is pressed into, her arms beneath her head as she gives Natasha full access to her back, and the aching muscles that have probably been pulled a couple thousand times since leaving. Natasha works harder at releasing some of that tension, looking at you with broken eyes that you can’t say no too. Your worries are squandered when Wanda speaks again, lifting her head just enough to be able to see your face, peering into your eyes with a passion and seriousness that burns you inside. “You won’t hurt me, stop thinking that. I just want to hold my girl.”
“Ahem.” Natasha clears her throat, and Wanda lets the slightest smile pull her tired lips upward.
“One of my girls, sorry, detka.” She apologies before dropping her face back into the pillow, tightening her grip on it when Natasha hits a sore spot in her back. The redhead keeps at it, knowing how easily the Sokovian can pull her muscles when she’s lifting heavy things with just her tendrils.
“Are my thoughts that loud?” You ask meekly, abandoning your intention of straightening up the kitchen and instead coming closer to the end bed, still without pants and just Natasha’s shirt that hangs to your mid thigh.
Natasha stops rubbing Wanda’s back in order to grab at your thighs and pull you closer, rubbing the skin of your legs the same way she had been rubbing Wanda’s back. Though she’ll never admit it, you and Wanda have a sneaking suspicion her love language is physical touch, and that just maybe, physically feeling you both silences her anxieties over you just disappearing from her. Whatever her reason, neither of you protest, and admittedly crave her touch by the end of the night when you crawl into bed.
“Mhmm, I promise I’m okay. Doesn’t really hurt anymore, s’just sore.” She promised, sounding half asleep the longer she lays, adjusting her head so her neck is turned toward both you and Natasha, but her eyes are closed, a content smirk on her lips that only grows bigger when she hears you sigh your agreeance and then feels the bed dip with your weight as you climb into bed.
“Lay your ass down, or I’m gonna fall asleep sitting up.” Natasha scolds, playfully slapping your ass as you crawl over her and into the center of the bed, which is no longer warm from your body. You settle in between them, humming contently when Wanda loops an arm around your waist and then Natasha pulled you into her chest, your legs intertangling messily beneath the sheets.
“I missed this. I can’t sleep when you’re gone, everything feels so empty.” You admit, letting your eyes close even if you’re going to have a few hours of painful silence and stillness before you can even consider actually falling asleep.
Natasha presses her lips into your head and Wanda tightens her arm around your middle, neither saying anything, but not having to as their words and their presence says it all. Surprisingly, you fall asleep in minutes, and not a single one of you wakes up for the next ten hours, desperately needing the rest all together again.
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sjswrites · 8 months
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You Are Worthy
Summary: A little fanfix from AoU. You're Thor's daughter and had to show the boys up.
Warnings: Just fluuuuuffff. My baby deserved this.
A/N: Hiii. Last weekend was hectic, buuut here's the posts you were gonna get, plus a bonus one. Enjoy! 🥰
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“Goddess,” A whisper came from the doorway. In the reflect of the mirror, the redhead leaned against the doorframe in her dark red suit. “How did I get so lucky, huh?” She pushed off the door frame. “I don’t deserve you.” She whispered as her arms snaked around my waist and her lips placed a gentle kiss on my shoulder.
“You do.” My head leaned up against hers. “You deserve everything, baby. You are one of the greatest heroes in the world, but more importantly,” I spun around to face her. “The greatest girlfriend in the world.”
She scoffed. “You must be talking about yourself.” She deflected as I glared at her.
”I’m serious, Natasha.” I kissed her lips. We moved like an ocean of love and lust. I slowly pulled away as she sighed. “I know, you don’t believe me, but it’s true. You are worthy of good things. You’re an amazing person.” My finger swiped away some strands of red away from her warm, green eyes. “Don’t be so mean to yourself… okay?”
She defeatedly nodded as she kissed my nose. “I’ll try. Just for you.”
I shook my head. “Do it for you.”
“Okay Thor. Put her down again. I need to try again.” Tony said as the Avengers quickly gathered around the show. My father laid his hammer down gently on the table as Tony stepped up. He tapped his watch as both of his gloves grew onto his hands and up his arms. He strained as he pulled and his thruster were fully engaged, but to no avail Mjonir did not budge. I chuckled to myself as I made myself comfortable in Nat’s lap, wrapping my arm around her neck.
“Baby, have you ever tried?” I whispered in her ear.
She shook her head. “That’s not an answer I need to be confirmed by a godly weapon. Thank you, but no thank you.”
“Would you try for me?” She looked at me searching and scanning for the joke part of what I asked her. “I bet you’d look really sexy holding it.” I whispered while nibbling on her ear.
“No.” She simply replied.
“Pleeeease.” I pouted my lip.
“Wow. You’re really pulling all the tricks out, huh?” I nodded, eagerly. “No. I don’t want to.” I sighed as I looked at my father and back at Tony. “You do it.”
I looked around the room. All the men had tried to lift my father’s hammer several times. Tony, Bruce, and Clint had tried in the past. Actually multiple triumphant attempts. The only one with any really progress was Cap. The slight wiggle of the hammer gave my father the slight tension in his chest. The women around the table simply refused. Maybe it was the internal notion that we all felt… The fear of not being good enough. The fear of rejection. The fear of being shamed.
“Fine. I will.” A devilish plan formulated in my head. All eyes shifted to me as I strutted my way over to the hammer. “One question, though.” The crowd’s curiosity only grew. “Has anyone ever wanted to kiss me?” A few shy hands raised as Natasha’s eyes narrowed at me. “Aww come on, babe. I feel like you're obligated to raise your hand.” She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at me. “Fine,” I put my hand around the handle as it lightly came up. I pointed the hammer at Kate and Peter who had her hand up. “I guess, I’m making dreams come true tonight.” I looked over at my father who beamed proudly as I flipped the hammer in my hand.
“Fine.” Natasha said as she raised her hand. I quickly threw the hammer at her hand as she caught it. My jaw dropped as I smiled at her.
“I knew it!” I ran back to her, giggling as a small like grin grew on the redhead’s face. She dropped the hammer as it fell through the floor and I jumped in her arms. “I told you.”
“Whatever.” She shook her head before pulling me in for an Earth-shattering kiss for the night we’d remember for the rest of lives.
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nataliasquote · 6 days
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Midas Touch | n romanoff
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Summary: no amount of money will ever save a broken marriage or a broken woman. But maybe the right person can turn everything she touches into gold and this time won’t be cursed to break everything she cares about.
Warnings: affair, cheating wife, forbidden love, small mention of physical abuse (a slap)
Pairings: maid!Natasha x wife!reader
wc: 7.1k 😬
Note: another AU? Why are we even surprised. But this idea fully goes to @katyaromanoffpetrova who does just fuel my need to write every AU possible. If you thought cowgirl Nat was hot… oh just you wait. Also the end got angsty, but you should learn to expect that with me now..
-⧗-
Being up before the sun wasn’t anything Natasha wasn’t used to. Even before she got this job, mornings were her favourite. The way the world looked when it was kissed by the watery sun that rose above the rooftops hours before anyone was awake to see it was one of life’s hidden gems.
And one of the many perks of being a live-in maid to one of the richest men in the America was the views from every window in the staggering mansion. The west side of the house overlooked the bustling city below, which was beautiful at night. But Natasha’s favourite was the east wing that revealed rolling countryside and the perfect place to watch the sunrise over the distant hills.
Her maid duties never started this early, but she didn’t mind being awake. It gave her a sense of peace before the mania of the day began. She wasn’t the only maid in the Barnes residence, but her task was slightly different than everyone else’s. She was Y/n Barnes’ maid and that in itself came with a whole host of other challenges.
Seven am was when her ‘day’ started, for the lady of the house was not an early riser. She usually wouldn’t be seen out of bed until at least nine, but on the days James left for work early, she would always see him off from the front door. And wherever Y/n was, Natasha was never far behind, lurking in the background with her hands clasped in front.
Y/n’s laugh was the first thing Natasha heard of her boss, before she was even seen. Her voice oozed wealth and that laugh practically dripped honey and diamonds as it echoed through the high ceilings of the stairwell. With her arm draped over her husband’s bicep, Y/n lingered on the last step, teasingly trying to tower over James’ muscular frame as he shrugged his suit jacket on.
He muttered something in her ear and Natasha watched as Y/n’s neutral expression suddenly switched to a cunning smile and her fingers fumbled with the small tie holding her feathered robe closed. The front fell open, revealing her nightwear beneath it and it was not hard to see the way James’ eyes fell to his wife’s cleavage for a couple of seconds.
These small moments cemented why they were the nation’s favourite couple, and also why Vogue was so insistent on featuring them on the cover. They were still so lovesick yet utterly perfect in a way that didn’t happen by chance. This level of perfection was almost nauseating.
Y/n stepped down off the bottom stair and looked up at James through her lashes, playing the innocent game despite being anything but.
“Goodbye, my love. Try not to murder anyone today,” she husked in her husband’s ear, draping her arms around his neck with a lazy smile. James’ hand fell to the small of her back and he pulled her into him, kissing her lips hastily.
“No promises. Be good.” Y/n was on her tip toes but hardly felt the coolness of the stone floor on her bare feet. She leaned her face into Bucky’s palm that had risen up to cup her cheek. Soft fingers straightened out the lapels of his pristine suit jacket almost habitually.
“No promises,” she mimicked with a smirk, her eyes sparkling playful up at her husband who was transfixed by her sultry gaze. She was truly a siren, luring him in with a simple glance and a smile. Her power didn’t come from her social status; it came from her. The kind that couldn’t be earned or bought, no matter how much money you had.
With another lingering kiss, James pulled away and reached for the drawer of car keys and selected from the collection of sports cars most could only fantasise about. His dark grey McLaren Senna was today’s pick and he tossed the key in his palm like it wasn’t part of a car costing close to a million dollars. His wealth really was astonishing.
Y/n watched him disappear out of the heavy iron front doors and pulled her robe tighter around her body, concealing the simple navy blue silk slip dress that hung delicately from her shoulders. Her robe matched in colour, of course, and the feathers adorning the trim and cuffs swayed as she wandered into the vast kitchen.
She was the typical rich housewife, but it didn’t look tacky on her. She suited this life. Her wrists, neck and fingers might as well have been crafted to be decked out in priceless jewels, her body to wear only the finest garments. Even just the way she moved oozed grace and elegance subconsciously. A sight for sore eyes.
“Natasha,” she called, knowing the redhead was only a few steps behind her. “I’d like my breakfast on the balcony today please.”
“Yes ma’am,” Natasha replied with a small nod of her head.
“Oh, and don’t bother bringing any of that apricot jam you brought yesterday. I only want strawberry, darling. Only strawberry.” She swept back out of the room in a flash of blue and Natasha scurried down to the kitchen to inform the chef.
Now, if it was anyone else, that pet name probably would have sent them reeling. But Y/n was extremely fond of using those names, so it was basically second nature to Natasha.
The breakfast tray was laden with food and beverages as Natasha brought it out onto the balcony. Y/n was relaxing in a chair, still in her nightwear and robe as she scowled over the newspaper in her hand.
“You know, I do find these world affairs awfully boring.” Y/n didn’t bother looking up from her newspaper as Natasha appeared with the tray. She frowned at the column she was reading before folding it away on the table. “I don’t suppose you read that kind of thing anyway.”
Natasha carefully set the coffee pot down on the table. “I try to keep up with what’s going on in the world. But not as often as I’d like.”
“Do you read the paper?”
“No, Ma’am.”
Y/n hummed. “You can have this one if you want. I don’t care for it and James only complains about the headlines. You’d make much better use of it, honey.”
“Thank you, Ma’am. I really appreciate it.”
“Natasha stop,” Y/n held her hand up, making Natasha freeze mid pour. “I’ve told you to call me Y/n. All this ‘ma’am is making me feel old!” Y/n sighed dramatically, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. “I’m not even thirty yet, don’t make me age faster.”
“I’m sorry, Ma-,” she faltered but caught herself quickly, “Y/n, it’s a force of habit.” It wasn’t so much of a habit than it just felt weird to say. This first name basis insinuated they were friends, not two people on drastically different pay grades.
“Well, luckily for you, habits were made to be broken.” There was a heavy intonation in her words, laced with hidden meaning but Natasha just busied herself with setting up the breakfast platter. Various fruits and pastries were laid out, despite Y/n always just picking at a few berries and a croissant. Natasha hung back near the french doors, admiring the scenery so she didn’t watch her boss as she ate.
Y/n slid her sunglasses back onto her nose and stood up to lean over the balcony, the gentle breeze blowing her open robe softly. “Did that package arrive yet? The one from the lingerie company?”
“Yes, it’s in your dressing room.”
“Perfect,” Y/n hummed, her eyes sparkling behind tinted lenses. “I’m going to go try it all on, I think. When you’ve taken the tray, join me, will you?”
Natasha faltered, trying not to look at the outline of her boss’s figure through the thin material of her robe. But with the sun shining through it, it was proving difficult to keep her eyes off the curve of her hips.
“Me?”
“Yes you, Natasha,” Y/n confirmed, smiling to herself. “Who else would I be talking to?”
“My apologises ma’am, I’ll take this right away.”
Y/n didn’t bother correcting Natasha that time, too busy gazing at the rolling landscape beneath her. She found comfort in nature, the way the breeze brushed over her skin and the sun kissed her cheeks making her melt slightly. It differed vastly from the heavy touch of James’ hands, ones she played through a heavy facade to enjoy.
Y/n’s dressing room was that of dreams, just like the rest of her house. But she barely noticed it anymore. Her gaze settled on a white box on the central dresser, smiling to herself. She enjoyed the luxuries of life, and that included lingerie too. She told everyone it was for James, but really it was for her.
She just wanted to feel good for herself.
But those damn feathered sleeves kept getting in the way, so she shrugged her robe off and let it pool on the floor around her feet. She barely noticed the cooler air on her exposed limbs, too busy pulling off the lid and moving the tissue paper aside to reveal the soft coloured lace and mesh, all pastel colours for spring.
Natasha rushed back upstairs as gracefully as she could, passing through the master bedroom to the dressing room at the end. The door was ajar so she knocked three times, as usual, before pushing it open. Her breathing faltered involuntarily.
Was it normal to have that kind of reaction after seeing her boss in nothing but a mini slip dress? There was so much skin and Natasha took a second to gather her thoughts before she announced her presence, keeping her eyes firmly away from the woman in front of her.
“Natasha I want your opinions on these, come here.” The redhead obeyed and joined her side, eyes widening at the items before her. “What do you think?”
This kind of underwear was probably worth Natasha’s entire salary and she was apprehensive to touch it. Her hands stayed by her sides but she tried look objectively, even if she could barely tell the difference between the sets.
“I like that one the best,” she murmured, pointing slightly to a soft pastel blue set. Y/n smiled and plucked it from the box, holding it in front of her.
“Me too, you’ve got good taste.” Y/n slipped one strap of her nightdress from her shoulder and Natasha immediately turned around, almost squeaking at the lack of warning. “You didn’t have to do that, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”
Except it was. Because this wasn’t just any woman’s body, it was her mistress’s and there was no way she would ever be able to erase the images burned in her mind.
“I’ll just,” she started, trying to fill the silence by picking up the discarded robe and hanging it on a hook to her right. She caught Y/n fiddling with the bra clasp on her back, the hooks not quite fitting together.
“I hate new clasps,” Y/n exclaimed through gritted teeth, the hooks slipping once again. “Natasha, would you-?”
‘Don’t look don’t look don’t look’ was all that ran through Natasha’s mind as she carefully fastened the bra. She ignored the way her fingertips brushed Y/n’s skin, this wasn’t the first time. She was her maid, for gods sake. But Y/n was usually adamant that she could get dressed by herself, so Natasha rarely found herself around her mistress in just her underwear.
With a muttered thank you, Y/n wandered over to the mirror, adjusting the way her boobs sat in the cups before admiring the set. It was perfect for spring, the baby blue mesh and complimenting white and yellow flowers sitting flush against her tanned skin. The way the material hugged her body rivalled that of a custom made piece and Y/n hummed, content with what she saw in the mirror.
“It looks- beautiful,” Natasha faltered, keeping her composure as best she could. “James will love it.”
Y/n chuckled in the mirror, her hair shaking across her back as she laughed. “You really believe I care what he thinks?”
Natasha’s brows creased. Was that not why Y/n had those underwear sets in the first place? The redhead was empathetic but she didn’t have a significant other, there was no time for that. So her judgement was skewed, and it showed.
“I thought-“
“That’s cute.”
Natasha stuttered. “I’m sorry?”
“You,” Y/n locked eyes with her in the mirror. “You’re cute. James doesn’t care about this kind of stuff, it’s all for me, darling.” She adjusted the strap of her bra and didn’t miss the way Natasha’s eyes followed her fingers. “And now you, I suppose?”
“No, I wasn’t-“
Y/n swivelled round, hands on her hips. “I’m teasing you, darling, don’t worry that pretty little head of yours. Frown lines don’t look good on you.” She reached up and softly brushed her thumb between Natasha’s eyebrows, smoothing out the creases that had formed there. The redhead visibly freezed under her touch, the feeling lingering long after her fingers were removed.
“You’re a beautiful girl, Natasha. Who’s the lucky man in your life? Or lady?” Y/n’s eyes shifted, forgetting that she was still in her lingerie set. Natasha breathed out a laugh and darted her gaze to the floor, offering Y/n her robe again.
“I don’t have anyone,” she admitted, missing the look that crossed Y/n’s face. “I spend all my time here, I don’t need anyone.”
“Then I’m honoured to be the lucky lady. And lucky I am.” There was something so alluring about Natasha that Y/n had been hooked on since she laid eyes on her new maid a few months ago. Reserved at first, Natasha was exactly what Y/n needed after years of overbearing and intrusive maids. Natasha was a similar age and felt more like a friend than a maid.
With a confident air about her, Y/n tried on the rest of the lingerie, placing the ones she disliked back in the box with a sigh. Sticking with the blue theme, she slipped on a blue and white sundress, clasped a tennis bracelet around her wrist, slotted her sunglasses into her freshly combed hair and waltzed back onto the balcony. Natasha stayed behind, fumbling with the ribbon around the box before she handed it to the doorman who would organise the return.
The days when James was at work were usually slow and Natasha had some time for herself for a couple of hours whilst Y/n was occupied. Natasha took herself into the city in the late afternoon and ended up in the one store she had never set foot in before.
The lingerie store.
It was a privately owned boutique, of course it was, this neighbourhood didn’t do chain branches, and she quickly walked past the more provocative sets towards the tables at the back. A friendly store worker greeted her but Natasha just kept her head down, politely shaking it when asked if she wanted help.
She was out of her comfort zone, and painfully so, picking up a risky looking set before setting it down a little too quickly. A simple red lace bra caught her eye and she picked it up, only to glance at the price tag and lay it down gently. How could something like that cost so much? Natasha had seen heavier price tags than that of course, she spent her days around Y/n Barnes for god’s sake. But when shopping for herself, everything just seemed too expensive and far too lavish for a plain girl like her.
Natasha was anything but plain, yet she would never see it.
As she looked around the rest of the shop, her mind kept falling back to the red set. It was burned into her mind no matter how many other pieces she saw, and somehow Natasha found herself back at that table again, fingers fumbling over the delicate lace design.
She picked it up, a soft blushing rising to her cheeks at the thought of wearing something so… out there. But the phone in her pocket buzzed and she quickly grabbed it.
Mrs Barnes:
James has set up a date night. I need your help please :)
The red lace set was long forgotten, her mind shifting into work mode in an instant.
Just leaving now. I’ll be there.
When she returned, Natasha headed straight upstairs to find Y/n just leaving the bathroom. Her hair was still dripping and her skin damp, shining in the warm light of her dressing room.
Natasha got to work, drying and styling her hair almost on instinct, having done it so many times. Y/n thoroughly relaxed, adoring the way Natasha felt as she worked through her hair. She softly tugged her roots, but not enough to hurt. Just so it felt like a massage and her eyelids threatened to get heavy.
Date night outfits ranged from lavish to simple, and tonight was a simple night. A little black dress with a deceitful price tag was selected from the closet, a fan favourite of Y/n. She wriggled into the tight material, loving the way it hugged every part of her body as she pulled it up over her chest and slipped the thin straps over her shoulders.
“Where did you go today?” Y/n asked as Natasha zipped up the back of her dress, holding the fabric tight.
“Mostly just window shopping.”
At the mention of shopping, Y/n’s ears pricked up. She wasn’t just making conversation- she was invested. “Did you get anything nice?”
“Not really. Saw a couple of things but-“
“You know you can always take my card if you see something you like,” Y/n insisted, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress to straighten it out. “What store did you visit?”
“It wasn’t anything special.” Y/n shot her an unimpressed look over her shoulder. “I went to the lingerie boutique-“
“No you did not,” Y/n exclaimed, her jaw dropping in excitement as she turned around, clothes long forgotten. “And you didn’t get anything? Oh darling no, we are taking you back there tomorrow and getting you sorted out.”
Natasha moved over to the heels cupboard and selected a classic pair of black patent stilettos. She placed them in front of Y/n for her to slide her feet into, holding onto her hand for support.
“You’ve got that photoshoot tomorrow, so no, we won’t have time.”
Y/n paused, her dangling earring paused in mid air. “And you think they won’t reschedule if I ask them to?” Her brow raised in a ‘try me’ fashion.
“Y/n,” Natasha began to protest. “You don’t need to do that. It’s not like I need anything fancy like you anyway, it’s useless…” she trailed off, a pang in her chest triggering a wave of doubt to shudder down her body. “Vanity Faire won’t be too impressed if you cancel on them again.”
“If they want me, they’re going to have to work around it,” Y/n countered, silencing Natasha as she stalked over, slightly taller than the redhead thanks to her heels. “You are beautiful and you deserve to treat yourself like that. Everyone does, even James and he’s an asshole sometimes. So take this,” she reached into her bra and pulled out her black card, smirking at how Natasha’s brows shot up. “Take this and spoil yourself. I mean it, okay?”
“Thank you ma’am, I’m-“ Y/n almost plucked the card back out of her hand. “Y/n, thank you. You’re too kind to me.”
“Oh stop it, my ego is big enough already.”
The dressing room door flew open to reveal James, narrowed eyes as he stared at the proximity between the two women. Natasha took a couple of steps back but Y/n stayed put, clasping a bracelet around her wrist nonchalantly.
“Y/n, get out here,” he demanded, never one to speak any clearer than he had to. His wife rolled her eyes at Natasha but obeyed, sending her one final look over her shoulder before the door swung shut.
Now they were alone, James grabbed her wrist and shoved her against the wall, towering over her in the only way he knew how to display his power. The power he held over his wife, power that meant he could crush with a single fist if he wanted to.
“James,” Y/n grunted, wincing as his fingers dug into the tender flesh around her wrist. “What is wrong with you?”
“Flirting with the maids now, huh?” He growled, thick brows casting a shadow across his eyes menacingly. “I fire one, you move onto the next, is that how it is?”
“And what if I was?” Y/n baited, not flinching as his body trapped her between the wall and his torso. “Are you threatened? By that cute little thing in there?” She nodded her head in the direction of the dressing room where Natasha was before James gripped her jaw and pulled her face back to his.
“Don’t you dare.” But she did dare. She wasn’t sadistic, but the smile that curled the edge of her lips was downright crazy. But she knew how James was; they fought fire with fire, too stubborn to ever back down.
“Careful, James. Marks, remember?” His grip softened lightly. “Wouldn’t want the paps to spin a story now, would we?”
She saw how he wanted to retaliate, but also knew that she was right. He leaned closer before pulling away, huffing through his nose. “You’re so fucking lucky I love you,” he hissed before he let go of her jaw and allowed her to walk away. His job didn’t help his violent side but James had vowed since day one that he would never harm his wife. Y/n knew it too, and she pushed him to the very edge. Just daring him to.
“Weird way of showing it, but ok,” Y/n mumbled under her breath as she pushed the door closed and took a breath. Natasha averted her eyes, suddenly so busy with a hanger that had been placed backwards. Did she put it there on purpose? That’s not for anyone to know.
She’d seen the strained moments between the husband and wife but often kept her head down, not wanting to fall under James’ wrath. If she was invisible, it was better, but that was easier said than done with Natasha.
Y/n finished clasping her last few pieces of jewellery before accepting her fur shroud from Natasha. The redhead didn’t let on that she had heard every word said next door, but Y/n knew by the way she avoided eye contact that she had.
“You can have the night to yourself, darling,” Y/n winked, checking over her outfit in the mirror beside Natasha. “And you better buy yourself that set.” She gestured to the card in her maid’s pocket, insisting she used it. “I want proof that you did.”
“Thank you, really.”
Y/n blew an air kiss and disappeared to meet James, leaving Natasha once again alone. She felt the weight of the card in her pocket, seeming to grow heavier the more she thought about it. Y/n meant well, but could she really buy something like that with her mistress’ money?
Whilst Natasha debated with herself, Y/n had put on her ‘public’ face. The one that showed she was so madly in love with her husband, clinging onto his bicep as they moved from the car to the restaurant lobby. Paparazzi followed their every move, of course, and James’ bodyguard ushered the couple into the building as fast as he could.
Most celebrities hated the paps with a passion, but James loved them. He loved how much he manipulated them, and they snapped up pictures of the married couple like there was a drought. There was no doubt those pictures would be spattered across gossip sites by tomorrow morning, but that was only more free publicity for him. James Barnes never lost.
However, despite the perfect image they had carefully constructed, more often than not, date nights with James ended alone. He would excuse himself for a phone call just as the food arrived and Y/n could always see him in a private area of the balcony, phone pressed to his ear whilst his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose. Y/n picked at her food in silence, washing every mouthful down with a sip of wine. She ignored the stares and whispers and just played her role to perfection, often sending worried glances out to James.
Tonight she had struck up a harmless conversation with one of the waiters, a young man with a far too eager smile. But she tolerated him for company, politely laughing as he tried to crack an admittedly horrible joke. He was surprisingly good company for the thirty minutes her husband had disappeared for. Although it didn’t help with how sad her situation looked. Y/n was nothing if not flirty, it was in her nature. The way she crossed her legs and looked up through her lashes with a sultry stare had every man, and woman, hooked.
Her siren tendencies didn’t end with her husband, and the waiter hovering by her table was drinking up the attention. It was a big deal for him, one of the hottest women giving up her time to talk to him. He was far too young for her, but Y/n humoured his attempts at flirting, twisting her shoulders so he had a good view from where he was standing. There was a fine line between hot and just plain sleazy, but Y/n would never cross it. She was too good at toying with people.
After a while, James came storming back in, his eyes darkening not only from the outcome of his phone call but also after seeing his wife laughing over another man. His judgement was clouded by anger and he grabbed his jacket, not even bothering to take a bite of his now-cold food. Y/n jumped at his sudden movements but smiled sweetly, thanking the waiter who had stiffened.
“Let’s go,” James growled, throwing down a wad of cash as a tip before storming towards the elevator. Y/n took a moment to gather her things before scurrying after him, her red bottomed shoes clicking loudly against the pristine floor.
“Is everything ok?” She dared to ask once the doors had closed. James looked up briefly, eyed the security camera and clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck shifting too.
“I work with imbeciles,” he grunted, his hand undoing the top button of his shirt in one fluid motion. “How was the food?”
“It was good,” Y/n stated, slightly wishing she could have finished her glass of wine.
“Good? I pay all this money and that’s the best you can do?” Bad phone calls always sent him into this mood, but Y/n had been with him long enough to know how to tame the tiger.
She stepped in front of him and ran her hands up the front of his sculpted chest, brushing over the muscle and up towards his shoulders. “It would have been better if you were there,” she spoke lowly, her hand sliding up to brush the stubble on his jaw.
James slid his hands around her waist possessively, pulling her flush against him. Anyone could walk in, the elevator wasn’t private, but they wouldn’t dare say anything to James Barnes. No one who confronted him ever walked away unharmed.
“Yeah? Even though you had your new little boy toy?” Oh he was jealous and Y/n had to tense every muscle in her body so she didn’t laugh. “I saw you.”
“You really think he had anything on you?” She asked sweetly, playing him just the way she knew. “I was just bored, baby, I missed you.”
“Damn right. I hope that fuckboy knows you’re mine, and mine only.”
“I’m yours, James, I’m yours.”
She was James’, so why did her mind drift to Natasha for a fleeting moment as she said it?
~~~
Y/n had dismissed Natasha for the night earlier than normal, letting her have the evening to herself before they went out. And she praised herself now, knowing James’ rage was just bottled up and sooner or later it would come out. She didn’t want her meek little redhead to have to see that.
And she was right. Whatever James had been feeling, he held it in until they were both nearly ready for bed. Y/n slid her rings off and placed them in the dish on her nightstand, each one clinking against the porcelain as she dropped it.
“What did you talk to him about?”
Y/n paused her movements for a second. “You’re still going on about that? I told you, it was just harmless conversation.”
“It didn’t look harmless, the way you were looking at him.”
Y/n was quite literally at the end of her tether with his accusations. “And how was that? How did I look at him?”
James rounded the bed, the single chain resting on his bare chest catching in the lamplight. “Like a slut.” His eye twitched, a sign he was pissed. “How do you think that looks for me? I step away for two seconds and my wife is whoring herself out to anyone she can find.”
“I find it laughable that you think you were away for two seconds,” she countered, stepping to the side to free herself from where he’d boxed her in. “May I remind you that I had finished my meal long before you even stepped foot back inside. He just came to talk to me and I engaged with the conversation, is that so bad?”
“Don’t use that tone with me,” James spat, his eyes following her figure as she paced around the room. “You shouldn’t-“
“Shouldn’t what? Shouldn’t talk? That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? A quiet little wife who only speaks when she’s spoken to and follows you around like a lost puppy.” James set his jaw, hands clenching by his sides. But Y/n carried on, spurred on by his accusations. “Well that’s not me James, and you know that!”
She paused and ran her fingers through her hair, exasperated. “How do you think it looks on you? You bring your wife out on a date but then can’t switch off from work for two minutes to actually enjoy your time with her! I’m saving your ass here, so be fucking grateful!”
That last sentence pushed him over the edge and James stormed over to her like a bull, backing her into a corner. “Grateful? Why should I be grateful? You’re a slut and-“
“Then treat me better and maybe I wouldn’t have to stray so far!”
James’ hand had connected with her cheek faster than either of them had time to process, his rings cutting into her skin painfully. They both froze. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, the sting of the slap blooming across her cheekbone. James was breathing hard, his hand still raised from the recoil.
An apology would come… wouldn’t it? It had to, he didn’t mean that. Y/n couldn’t move, it was like the air had been sucked out of the room. Her stomach lurched, just urging James to say something. Anything.
A whole host of scenarios of how the next few moments might play out raced through Y/n’s mind, but she didn’t foresee her husband walking out without a word, a button up shirt in his hand.
She watched the door click shut before she sank to the floor, legs buckling beneath her. She didn’t want to cry, he wasn’t worth that, yet the tears still fell, dripping down into the carpet that pressed into her knees. It wasn’t from the pain, but from how stupid she felt.
Why was she still pretending? She played off everything he said to her, claiming it didn’t hurt when in reality it cut deep like a knife. Beneath her defences, she just wanted someone to care and not just because she was pretty. She wanted the slow mornings, the affection that wasn’t just for show. The ‘hey how was your day’ that wasn’t just one sided. But Y/n had sacrificed all of that the day she married James, naive enough to think he’d warm up over time.
The house felt eerily quiet and the blanket of night settled across every room. Ignoring how the clock chimed two, Y/n hauled herself up off the floor and trudged down to the kitchen, barely noticing the icy floor on her bare feet.
The freezer must hold ice packs or something similar, anything to stop bruising and swelling that always leads to questions. Y/n didn’t even bother to check if anyone was around before she pulled the door open and rummaged around, falling upon a bag of frozen peas. Not ideal, but it would do.
Except for the hum of appliances, the kitchen was silent and shadows appeared as the dim fridge light cast a small pool around her. No one was here at this hour, so Y/n dropped her guard and slumped her shoulders, leaning against the side of the fridge with exhaustion.
But she wasn’t alone.
A certain redhead had frozen in place, her spoonful of ice cream hovering somewhere between the pint and her mouth. Natasha was a midnight snacker and her feasts were usually undisturbed, but the sound of footsteps had her retreating into a corner.
It was only when she saw that familiar curtain of hair did she emerge, slowly, as if approaching a small animal, to not scare her off.
“Y/n?” Natasha emerged from the shadows, spoon still in her hand. Y/n did a double take but kept her face turned away, forcing her guard up in a split second.
But it was too slow for Natasha. She saw the vulnerability
“What are you doing down here?”
“I came to get a snack,” she replied with as much conviction as a toddler. Green eyes fell to the bag of peas… interesting snack choice.
“Why didn’t you call for me? I would have come myself.”
“It’s the middle of the night, Natasha.”
“Which is exactly my point, why aren’t you asleep-“
Y/n suddenly emerged from the corner and allowed the fridge light to hit her cheek. Natasha recoiled with a gasp, blinking quickly to wake her brain up. Was she hallucinating or was that what she thought it was? Y/n’s eyes were heavy and looked at the floor, too ashamed to watch Natasha’s reaction
“Did he…?”
The lack of response that followed was louder than a thousand words and Natasha felt her blood boil. She would happily be put away for battery if it meant she could get her hands on James, but she had more pressing matters to attend to.
Abandoning her spoon on the metal table with a clatter, Natasha hurried over and prised the bag of vegetables from Y/n’s hand. She wrapped them in a towel and gently pressed them to her cheek, muttering an apology as her mistress winced.
“What happened?”
Y/n chewed her lip, still avoiding eye contact. “Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Natasha nodded. “Ok,” she replied, respecting her wishes. You couldn’t push with Y/n, she had to come to you. “Here, sit up on there.” She helped Y/n hop onto the counter and her body instantly relaxed.
A comfortable silence fell between them both, somehow not affected by Y/n’s reluctance to talk. They never needed words, that’s what Y/n liked about Natasha so much. She was a comforting presence, and Y/n felt so at home around her.
With their faces so close, Y/n felt her chest warming at things she’d never noticed before. There were flecks of brown in Natasha’s clear green eyes, almost mirroring the freckles that danced faintly across her nose. The frown lines she had wiped away earlier were back and Y/n fought the urge to brush them away again.
After ten minutes, Natasha set the ice pack down on the side and helped Y/n down, the stone now digging into her butt uncomfortably. “Just let it rest for a bit before you ice it again. You don’t want to damage the skin.”
Y/n nodded, her face already numb. Their proximity was close but neither made an attempt to move. Natasha couldn’t keep her eyes off how red her cheek looked and Y/n desperately needed something to shut up the voices in her head.
Her eyes dropped down to Natasha’s lips, wanting to cry with how soft they looked. How gentle they’d feel on her skin, a stark contrast to the rough lips she was used to feeling dragging across her collarbones and neck. Natasha was soft and Y/n felt herself craving it.
“No, Y/n no.” Lost in her head, she’d failed to notice Natasha catching on, almost reading her mind. And as much as the redhead would love to reciprocate, it was inappropriate and not just because of her job.
Y/n leaned forwards, eyes glossy. “Please, Natasha-“
“You’re hurting, I won’t-“ Natasha shook her head, taking Y/n’s trembling hand in her own. She could make a pretty educated guess as to what had happened and did not want to be a part of Y/n’s inevitable. She pushed her own feelings down, stuffing them in a box and cramming the lid on tight.
But Y/n never made her life easy. She gripped Natasha’s hand, pulling it into her. “Please?”
“No, we can’t, you know that. And you’re my boss, Y/n-“
“Nat, I- I want you. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”
The redhead faltered, watching the way her mistress’s chest heaved. Her head screamed at her to stop; it was so wrong. She couldn’t avoid the way her cheek burned red in the dim light, a stark contrast to the rest of her pale face. Never had she seen this much vulnerability in the woman who was full of wit and confidence.
The strength she was so used to seeing had completely disappeared and Y/n peered at her with tears on her waterline, her facade crumbling away with every second that ticked by.
Those seconds felt like an eternity before Natasha slowly reached her hand up.
But it was too soon.
Y/n flinched away, a tear escaping as she let out a whimper. Natasha quickly retreated her hand and let the woman before her turn back, not wanting to push her in any way.
“You’re safe,” Natasha whispered. Y/n’s eyes searched hers, trying to find any sign of a lie. But she came up empty. With a trembling hand, she reached for Natasha’s palm and allowed it to cup her other cheek. The touch was soft, warm, and everything she wasn’t used to. Even on instinct, Y/n couldn’t help but lean into it, eyelids fluttering closed for a split second before she forced them open.
“I’ve got you.”
Y/n glanced at Natasha’s lips and back up to her eyes. She needed to feel that warmth, she needed to kiss lips that didn’t curse her all day long.
“Natasha…”
The redhead couldn’t stop herself anymore and let Y/n lean forwards, connecting their lips in the most gentle kiss. Y/n tasted the sweet dessert on her lips as they moved against each other slowly, the hand on her cheek moving around to the back of her neck to hold her in place.
“Did you have ice cream?” Y/n mumbled against her lips, goosebumps lighting up her skin at Natasha’s touch.
“Maybe.”
The kiss wasn’t anything frantic or passionate, it couldn’t be. It was so featherlight that their lips barely touched, but the way Natasha’s blood felt like it was on fire was enough to convince her that they did touch. She let Y/n lead, moving their lips in tandem and fiddling with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.
Y/n pulled away, a soft smile on her slightly swollen lips setting Natasha’s heart a flutter. The ache in her cheek was hardly noticeable in that moment; she was too fixated on the redhead in front of her.
She leaned in again, chasing that high she wasn’t ready to come down from yet. But Natasha gently pushed her back, shaking her head softly.
“Y/n, we can’t. We shouldn’t be doing this, you know that.” Y/n’s coping mechanisms were unhealthy to say the least, and as much as it pained her, Natasha couldn’t support that. Clarity had hit her like a ton of bricks and guilt settled in the bottom of her stomach, leaving a nasty taste in her mouth.
What were they doing?
Natasha’s heart shattered as she watched Y/n retreat into herself, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth slightly. Her eyes were glossy but the tears refused to spill over. Every muscle in her body was rigid, almost as if she was scared that if she moved, the dam would break and everything would come flooding out. Y/n may be good at a lot of things, but emotional confrontation was not one of those things.
“I know, I’m sorry.” She lingered for a moment, just willing Natasha to speak, to take back her words. Maybe if she closed her eyes, those lips would be on hers again. Their Midas touch, concealing the ache in her heart for a few fleeting moments was all she wanted.
But when Natasha stayed silent, Y/n turned and left, leaving the makeshift ice pack abandoned on the side. She couldn’t stay and let herself fall apart anymore. Her heart had broken twice that night, but why did it hurt so much worse now? Why did Natasha, her maid, have a stronger grip on it than her husband?
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romanoffsbish · 5 months
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Worth the Wait
Natasha Romanoff x F!R
Request | Natasha loves it when you tease, well, unless there’s nothing she can do about it… | WC: 1,896
Warnings: Minimal plot | Injury / Stitches / Blood
Smut: Free Use Referenced | Unprotected Sex (Natasha has a penis)| Breeding | Squirting | Cockwarming (KO)
18+ | Minors DNI
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“Oh my god!” You shrieked as your bare midriff was pressed into the cold marble of your kitchen counter by small, callous hands; Natasha filled the gap between your bodies, and you could feel her pulsing through her boxers. “You make me so fucking hard detka,” she rasped breathlessly as she firmed her body into yours, her warm lips trailed over your cold shoulder.
Natasha loved moments like these the most, when your body gave into her touch as if it was your haven. She could feel you warming up, and pressing into her, it was a dream come true, if only not for the knock.
——
“Romanoff, we have a mission, wheels up in ten,” Tony called from behind the door, having learned his lesson from the time before. The image still haunts his mind.
You smirked at her through the glass of your kitchen window, ten seconds ago you were going to give it all to her, but now you were going to tease her. It was a promise that your face made as you twirled in her hold and kissed her lips with feigned innocence. Your deviance shown in the way you cupped her hard-on and stroked her firmly, but only for a few times.
“Behave,” you warned when you felt her kiss you with more urgency. “Y/N, we have enough time, please.”
You leaned back, removing your lips midway through the kiss and she nearly growled at your interference. “Y/N, I swear to god, if you make me go without.”
“What?” You provoked her, “What is it they’ll do?”
Natasha backed down when she saw the promise of a month in your eyes. It was a shifty illusion, deep down she knew that but she wasn’t willing to risk it.
“I’m sorry love, I just, I get so riled up when you look this delectable,” her hands softly groped your thinly veiled breasts and your gasped air brushed across her face. “Please don’t make me wait, I need you so badly.”
“No,” you affirmed, “You need to be in tip top shape baby, and fucking me beforehand will weaken your stamina. I need you back alive and well.” The redhead was two seconds from being all over you, but she saw the genuine worry in your heart through your eyes.
“When I’m home?” You grinned, and winked. “Maybe.”
“Okay,” she conceded against your lips as she pecked them. “I’d wait forever for just the promise of eventually, I love you.” You smiled like an idiot then gently pecked her lips in return. “I love you too baby.”
You had no intention on holding out, and you also knew Natasha wouldn’t wait anyways, even if her words were sickeningly sweet. The concept of no was (consensually) removed from your dynamic, she’d never cease to wear you down into the perfect place to warm her cock and you’d pant just like a bitch in heat, needy and open. Natasha left with a knowing smirk.
Hours spent worried and horny went by in a flash. In the midst of cleaning the already spotless loft up you’d stopped to take a shower, preparing yourself for the climax of your day. After getting dressed in her favorite crotchless set you took a quick set of photos. Each one was blurry in their own right, but she could see your glistening folds between your white laced, thick thighs.
Her eyes darkened with lust, fueled mostly by fresh hot anger as she caught Wanda’s eyes widening. The way her cheeks flushed red and her throat cleared it was obvious she was having thoughts about your body. It was a direct oversight on her end, but she’d blame you.
Had you not made her leave so desperate, she never would have opened the attachment without looking around first. Wanda had already made her way to the other end of the jet, preserving her peaceful trip and trying to restore her prior indifference to your body.
The redhead stormed off the jet and headed straight for your bedroom. Opting to take the stairs in hopes of being too ahead of the nervous super soldier who was fresh on her tail with an idea for what was happening.
You two were the compounds resident horndogs as Tony drunkenly deemed you both one night. The rest of the team had cheered and you were embarrassed. Yet it never stopped you two from fucking like bunnies. Nothing would ever get in her way from having you.
So Natasha wasn’t exactly having it as Steve shouted at her, the man was only urging her to get her shoulder fixed up, but she was in far worse pain elsewhere. The man truly didn’t deserve to be tossed into a wall as if he were the size of a toddler to the woman who stood a foot below him, but he was interfering with her needs.
His pride was wounded and her shoulder throbbed, but it was satisfactory when she was able to walk away without another word from the super soldier. You had heard the commotion bleed into eery silence aside from firm footsteps. The spy’s step a calculated warning, you knew you were truly fucked; you hoped.
The redhead slammed your door faster than your eyes could register it had even opened. Your eyes fell to her shoulder and her heart considerably warmed at the way your lip trembled with concern. She caught it with her teeth as she pressed you into the counter, again.
You gasped at the way the lace tickled your back, it was relatively feather light but it made your body shiver. Her tongue greeted yours in the same breath and you were gone, mind melting into a state of obliviousness. Which is why you gripped onto her shoulders, blood gushed around your thumb and you both cried. The redhead sucked in a sharp breath containing her rage, you were already in the dog house for her festering jealousy, she wouldn’t blame you for her injury too.
“Get the first aid kit,” she groaned, pulling away with a scowl as she felt anger at the unfair loss of your touch. You were quick to appease her, after washing your hands you were back with the white tin in hand.
You nearly stumbled forward, knees clanking as you barely caught yourself at the sight of your bruised lover. The wounded warrior’s look always turned you on the most, knowing she’d left to protect you, and returned with a need for your safe touch after was hot.
Natasha had stripped down to nothing, showcasing the new bruises you’d have to watch fade from black and blue to yellow and green in a days time. You were always grateful to her bodies advanced healing, but to know she was ever in pain hurt you all the same. She saw your concern, even appreciated it, but she wasn’t going to waste the lust in your eyes over the softness.
“I’ll g-go get some anesthetic from Cho,” you gulped and the redhead smirked, then her tongue clicked as her finger curled, urging you forward. “No, you won’t.”
“B-but,” you stuttered, needy eyes avoiding hers with the hope of being able to fix her up first, but her hand wrapped around your wrist and your body lurched forward until your pussy was nearly hovering her head. Her hand pulled the first aid kit from your own, and quickly laid out what you’d need on the bedside table.
Then she brought your hand down to her throbbing tip, letting you feel her desperation before she helped you to guide it to your entrance. “The only anesthesia I need is your warmth choking my cock detka, so take a seat and offer mommy some well earned relief.” Your hand squeezed over hers firmly, then it slipped off so that you could hold onto her good shoulder as you slid down, both of her hands gripped at your hips as the pleasure wrapped around her roughed up frame.
“Ride me,” she whispered hotly against your throat, you gulped against her lips, walls clenching at the thought, but for a minute you killed the mood with a hard refusal. “Let me clean you first, just a moment.”
Natasha huffed, but shut up quick as your teeth nipped at her bottom lip. Then as your warm rag rushed over her shoulder you offered her your tongue to pacify her, you felt her raspy cries with every brush or clench.
Once finished cleaning and weakly numbing the wound with some cream you found, you pecked her lips then began to stitch her up. After a few moments you found a synchronic way to tend to her every need. With each dip of the needle that was reconnecting her skin you’d rise up, then drop back down as you pulled the thread tight. Hips connecting with each finished stitch, and you finished in sync as well, the redhead nearly burst them back open as her load shot into you without more than a twitch in warning. Then yours gushed, flushing the combination down into her lap.
Natasha’s head was leaned back as she relished in her high, dick still pulsing as you sloppily applied the salve and bandage to her shoulder. Just as you finished she was back on you, her lips crashing into yours as your body melded into the plush mattress. “I’m going to make you regret making me wait detka, might finally fill you up enough to start our family. Gotta claim your womb before anyone else can try to steal it from me.”
“What?” Natasha saw your confusion but she didn’t reply with any context, just a reminder, “You’re mine.” Her teeth sunk into your shoulder, giving you a little taste of her paralleled wound as she marked you. It only made you wetter seeing her so desperate to claim you that she forgot about her ring sat on your finger.
Your wife smirked against your skin as she felt you suck her cock in even further. Your ass now sticky as your arousal oozed out of you, her green eyes found yours and you felt your breath disappear. “I hope you remember your safe words,” she winked and you were gone. “Oh shit…” There was no hope left for you now.
There were two words you called out during sex that indicated an encroaching limit. “Stop,” was a clear word, but it wasn’t transparent as this was what you called when you wanted her to push you a bit more. It was a feigned safe word, as she sped up her attempts each time. Tears streamed down your face as she pressed a bullet to your abused clit, you gasped as your back arched before it collapsed back into the mattress.
“Fuck,” is what you usually muttered when it was time for her to give you a break, but your conscious slipped just before she could hear you cry it out. In the end she chose to fall into your body, more than happy knowing that she made you squirt. She decidedly left her cock inside of you to lessen the chance of her seed oozing out. Her consciousness slipped, but in the back of her mind she dreamed that you’d wake up wanting more.
You were sure to be parents come next holiday season.
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Kinktober (17)- Lingerie
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Natasha X G!p Reader 18+
Summary: After a bad day at work, your wife finds the best way to satisfy you.
Warnings/Tags: Reader has a Penis, Blowjobs, Handjobs, Multiple Orgasms, Dirty Talk, Multiple Creampies, Oral Sex, Fingering, Rough Sex, Breeding Kink, Switch Reader/Switch Natasha.
Kinktober Masterlist
Closing the door harder than you intended, you sighed to yourself in annoyance, shrugging your suit jacket off and carelessly flinging it on the table as you dragged yourself into your living room, flopping on the couch. Memories of today’s diabolical meeting flooded through your mind as you unbuttoned the top button of your shirt, the fabric tight and uncomfortable on your neck, adding to your displeased mood as you became aware of the lack of noise in your apartment, listening out intently for your wife.
“Nat?” You called out, voice calmer and gentler than the one you used earlier in the meeting, the mere reminder of it making your brows furrow at how stupid your workers could possibly be, hands busy untying your laces as she appears from behind the bedroom door, eyes solely focussed on you.
“Hey Detka,” she purrs out sultrily, your head snapping up at the sound of her voice, eyes widening and jaw slacking at the goddess that stood before you that you somehow managed to call your wife.
Black lace adorned her body in the most alluring and enticing manner, the fabric teasingly covering her breasts as the soft flesh peeked over the top, your rapidly darkening eyes travelling further down her body, across her beautiful curves, her toned stomach, her core that was scandalously covered up by the smallest piece of lace possible, a small groan leaving you at the barely visible wet spot already there. Thigh high stockings complimented the lingerie she was wearing, the image of her swaying her hips as she casually sauntered closer to you causing your pants to feel a lot tighter, eyes unable to choose where to admire as she stood right before you.
“Fuck, Nat,” you managed to groan in appreciation, hands reaching out for her soft curves only to be stopped, her hands wrapping around your wrists and pinning them to the back of the sofa, her body towering over yours as she smirked down at you, your mind clouded with arousal at the sight of her.
“Keep them there for me Detka,” she whispers out, her mouth lowering in a teasing manner, lips ghosting yours as your eyes drift to her plump lips, enchanted by the way her tongue swipes across her bottom one to wet it. Your head tilts to try and chase her lips but she cruelly pulls back, her eyes matching your lust-filled ones as she takes in your outfit, her eyes landing on the large bulge in your pants. “All this for me?” she whispers teasingly, her hands palming your cock through your pants, able to feel how hard and desperate you already were for her.
“Always for you,” you sigh out in a pleased tone, her hand briefly wrapping around you and jerking softly. “Please,” you practically whimper when she teases your mouth again with her addictive lips, your mind begging for her to press them against you, not bothered where. You just needed to feel her.
“Already begging,” she teases in an affected whisper, tauntingly placing a kiss to the underside of your jaw, lipstick marking the skin before slowly unbuttoning your shirt, leaving a trail of lipstick smudges as she kisses her way down your toned body. “Don’t worry Detka, I’ll take care of you,” she murmurs, finally dropping her knees between your legs, admiring her work as your chest rises and falls with laboured breaths, mind completely fogged with arousal as she stares up at you with that sultry smirk that drives you insane. “And your needs,” her voice a mere whisper as she presses a kiss to the band of your underwear, a sharp intake of breath leaving you at the feeling of her hands unzipping your pants and her hungry gaze.
“Love,” you sigh out the endearment as she successfully gets you out of your pants and underwear, her hands wrapping around you, able to feel how you were throbbing for her. She watches hungrily as your head lolls back at the feeling of her hand gliding up and down you, your hips bucking slightly when she runs her finger from the base to the tip, lips ghosting your head. “I need you, please,” your tone a desperate plea, head tilting to look down at her with a submissive look as you let her control you for now, needing to feel some sort of release and satisfaction after today. You could take your frustrations out later.
Giving you what you want, her lips wrap around your cock, the warmth and wetness of her mouth having you groan sensually at the pleasure that coursed through your veins, hands itching to thread through her silky, red locks, desperate to guide her head up and down your length. Her emerald eyes peer up at you sinfully, hips bucking as she takes you all the way down her throat, her hand going to your balls and massaging them expertly, knowing exactly how to please you. Your moans grow slightly louder when she bobs her head faster up and down you, the feeling of her tongue swirling around your tip and her moaning around you causing you to jerk your hips up harder, making her gag slightly, not that she minded.
At the sound of your low groan, she pulls her mouth off you for the moment, moving her hands to slide up and down your cock, lips pressing a lewd kiss to your tip. You can’t help but stare down in pure desire as she licks from the base to the tip of you, eyes trained on you as she effortlessly takes all of you down her throat again, gagging once again at the size of you.
“Nat,” you plead, fingers moving to grip the edge of the sofa, knuckles bleeding white with how amazing the feeling of her mouth felt on you, thoughts filled with only her.
“What’s wrong Detka?” she innocently murmurs, slightly panting for breath, her tone a clear contrast between her actions as she looks up at you, tongue licking a stripe up your cock. At the action, precum spills out of your tip, her finger deftly gathering it and sliding into her mouth, a small, sinful moan escaping her at the taste of you.
“Love-fuck,” your words are cut off with a sudden moan, her lips wrapping around your head, cheeks hollowing while her hand expertly slides up and down you mercilessly, wanting to have you teetering on edge. “Nat- God, I’m going to come if you keep doing that,” your voice laced with desperation as you stare down at her, begging her with your eyes.
“You wanna come in my mouth Detka?” she asks lewdly, licking the small bits of precum that continues to leak out of your tip, observing how you nod frantically, hips bucking into her hand and mouth to chase your release. You groan at her dirty words, her body suddenly standing, her mouth at the shell of your ear to add to her words, “What if I want you to fill me up? I need to feel your cum inside me Detka.” You groan once again, hips bucking up harder, your orgasm about to crash over you as you peer up into her darkened eyes, head tilting to ghost her lips.
“I’ll do both,” your tone cocky and matching of your more dominant side, the redhead smirking at your words as she places another kiss to your jaw, teeth nibbling gently as she feels your hips stuttering into her hand.
“That better be a promise,” she warns, desperately needing to feel you come inside her, to fill her up and watch as it drips out of her slowly. Her body swiftly and seductively drops back to the floor, her lips kissing your tip once more, eyes watching yours roll back. “Come on Detka, come for me,” she husks out, taking you down her throat once more and bobbing her head, tongue swirling over your sensitive head and hand squeezing your balls gently, pleasure crashing through you.
Your hands reach out to her hair, holding her close as spurts of the warm, white liquid fill her mouth, a string of moans leaving you as you come down her throat, emptying into her while your hips jerk up as you ride out your aftershocks. You pant as you try to recover from your mind-blowing orgasm, chest heaving as she releases you from her mouth, swallowing your load and moaning lowly at the taste, eyes on your blissed out state. Her finger moves to swipe the little that escaped her mouth, sliding it back in and making a show of the action to make your hands thread through her hair and guide her up off the floor to straddle your lap, mouth crashing to hers.
It was messy, desperate and passionate as you poured all your love for her into the kiss, showing your wife the appreciation she deserves, hands roaming the body you're addicted to. You groan into the kiss when her teeth bite down on your lower lip, her smiling into the next kiss as you flip the two of you over on the sofa, pressing her into the soft cushions.
“Shit Detka, you feel so good,” she moans when you grind your hips into her, her hands shrugging your shirt off your shoulders, carelessly throwing it somewhere in the room, legs wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. You grind your hips into her harder, knowing just how she likes it while your lips press teasingly along her jaw and the underside of her jaw, soft sighs leaving her. Fuck, she loved how you could so easily switch between being submissive and dominant.
“I’m going to make you scream for me, Nat,” you groan against her warm skin, eyes peering up at her as you thrust your hips against her, cock rubbing against her soaked panties perfectly, her head lolling back at the pleasure. She smirks at your cocky words, knowing full well that you can fulfil them, your lips marking her neck as your hands trails down her body, fingers reaching her lace panties.
“Detka,” she groans at the sound of fabric tearing, your eyes trained on her face as your mouth moves to kiss the top of her breasts, fingers sliding through her dripping folds.
“All this for me?” you mock her earlier words, moving your thumb to circle her clit while you effortlessly slide a finger into her, needing to stretch her out. She lets out a breathless laugh at your words, moaning quietly after it as you curl your fingers at just the right spot, her back arching off the sofa and into your body. “So wet, so desperate. Fuck, love, you’re ruining me,” you groan against her, moving back up her body to claim her lips hungrily, swallowing her moans as you thrust another finger into her, curling them both at her g-spot while your thumb continues to rub her clit expertly.
Her hands leave your back and thread through your hair, tongue sliding into your mouth to regain some sort of control as you drive her closer to her orgasm, not wanting to come so soon and seem that desperate for you.
Knowing how close she is by the way she clenches around you, your grin into the kiss, knowing how she loves and hates the fact that you can make her come so quick,
“Just lose control, love, I know you want to come all over my fingers,” you rasp out against her lips before crashing them back together messily, groaning at the feeling of her hips grinding against your hand, chasing her high.
“Detka, Fuck,” she moans out before throwing her head back, her orgasm powerfully crashing over her as her hips ride your fingers desperately, come coating your fingers as she rides out of her high, your lips attached to her neck as she couldn’t kiss you back.
You softly coax her back to reality with softer kisses, your eyes raking over her euphoric state as you admire her. Such a pretty mess you think as her eyes flutter open, that signature smirk returning as she reaches her hand down, jerking you off once more and signalling for you to fuck her.
“I need you Detka,” she purrs at the shell of your ear, teeth nibbling on your earlobe before laying back down, your lips chasing hers as you take a hold of your cock and position it at her entrance. Teasingly, you rub your tip against her clit, then down to her entrance to coat it in the abundance of arousal pooled between her legs, her legs wrapped around your waist again and pulling you closer making you slide it into her.
Both of you groan into the other's mouth at the feeling, her heavenly cunt making you delirious with pleasure, her warm and wet walls clenching around you perfectly as she moans at the feeling of being filled up and stretched out, her nails digging into your back.
“Don’t be gentle with me Detka. Fuck me. Hard,” you can’t help but groan into her mouth at the filth that came out of her mouth, sliding out of her until only the tip remained in before thrusting your hips into her, giving her exactly what she wanted. You snap your hips into her, feeling her walls clench around your cock to make you pant against her mouth, eyes looking down to watch as her cunt swallows your length up greedily.
“Love, you feel so good, so good,” you murmur against her, hips merciless as you pound her into the sofa, the lewd sounds of moans and skin slapping sounding around the room. To reach even deeper inside her, you lift one of her legs slightly, allowing you to thrust into her so you were hitting her sweet spot with every thrust, a sinful moan leaving her.
“Shit, Faster Detka, Harder,” she moans out, a hint of desperation in her voice as she nears her second orgasm, your hips driving into her. Your pace increases as she commands, relentless as her moans grow louder and louder, her hips moving in time with yours as both of you start to teeter on edge.
Your fingers dig in slightly at her thigh, Natasha knowing there were going to be marks there making her even wetter, clenching around you at the moans that escape you, mouths still hungrily meeting in a passionate kiss.
When she clenches around you again, you can’t stop the desperate noise that escapes you, Natasha knowing how close you were at the way your hips started to thrust even faster, her mind clouded with pleasure at the feeling of you inside her.
“Come in me Detka, Please come in me,” she moans against your lips as she tries to hold off her orgasm until you come, wanting to feel that added pleasure of coming at the same time as you.
“Nat,” you groan at her words, lips meeting hers as your orgasm inevitably crashes through you, thick spurts of cum filling her up as your hips stutter into her, pressing her even further into the sofa as her own orgasm courses through her. A scream leaves her as the pure euphoria that floods through her body, taking over all her senses as all she can feel is pleasure, your name falling off her lips in a sigh as you slow down your thrusts, still emptying into her.
Once you’re finished coming, Natasha expects you to pull out but moans in surprise when you thrust your hips back into her slowly, panting heavily as you still remain hard inside her.
“One more, Please,” you groan against her, eyes peering into hers with a pure lust as you grind your hips against her, still deep inside her, your cock covered in your cum and hers.
“Give me one more,” she whispers in an equally affected tone, her hips grinding in time with yours, this time slower as you both chase another high. Your lips meet hers slower, your hips thrusting slow and deep inside her as her nails scratch down your back, pleasure building in both of your cores as your hand reaches for hers, interlocking your fingers. “Detka,” Natasha moans out sensually as you both fall over the edge again, more come filling her up as you empty into her again, her orgasm taking over her once again as you both collapse into each other, your head resting against her shoulder as her fingers return to your hair, fingers scratching your scalp.
It takes you a moment for both of you to recover, your lips meeting hers softly, intimately as you convey your love silently, her smiling into the kiss as you eventually pull out of her, watching as cum slowly seeps out of her. You watch mesmerised when her finger slides it back into her as she chuckles at your small groan and the way your cock twitches, eyes flickering back up to her.
“Bedroom?” you ask, her shaking her head playfully at your antics, your arms wrapping around her body and lifting her off the sofa when she nods, knowing that the two of you were in for a long night. 
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rainforest-daisies · 7 months
Text
Day 2|thigh riding
Character: Natasha romanoff x AFAB!reader
TW: thigh riding, badly translated Russian petnames
A/n: screaming, sobbing, rolling around on the floor, slamming my fist on the table over this one + I don’t speak Russian but goddamnit I’m gonna try
Kinktober masterlist!
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You opened the front door as fast as you could, the keys barely making it out of the doorknob as Natasha stumbled in behind you. Within seconds, her lips were back on yours as they had been once you parked the car, as they were to be as you walked down your hallway, not wanting to part from her.
Her hands slid onto your hips, grasping at the fabric of your tiny cocktail dress and pulling it upwards to show off the lace that dressed your pretty pussy, or, as much of it as crotchless lingerie could.
A derisory laugh left her lips, a smirk rising onto her face with a glimmer in her eye that could drop any girl's panties. One of her hands held your dress up against your stomach as her other hand drifted to your cunt. She rubbed her hand against your plush thighs, not giving in to your silent pleas and begs.
She pivoted your bodies until she could fall back onto the bed, pulling your legs to straddle her without moving her hand from your inner thigh. She pulled your torso flush against hers as Natasha looked up at your face, “Detka…your face looks so pretty with that little smile.” She pulled her hand up to hold your dress once again, yet she moved her thigh against your pussy, adding more pressure than her hand ever had, leaning in to whisper, “Maybe I should get those cheeks a little bit flushed? Yeah? I can do that for you.” Her breath fanned against your ear as she spoke, small pants coming from her out-of-breath body.
“Ride my thigh, malyshka.”
As your body moved against hers, her lips attached to your neck and began to suck hickeys into the tender skin. Your orgasm began to approach, and Natasha could tell. She could spot the desperation each time you ground against her thigh, she began to guide your hips at a slower, yet rougher pace. A whine left your lips as she did so, calling out to her, begging for her to let you speed up and allow the rush of release to take over your body. She heard your pleas, and began bouncing her leg, causing a loud, unanticipated moan to leave your mouth.
Your tits bouncing in her face prompted her panties to dampen, sliding her hand up to cup one of them.
“Look at those pretty cheeks, Just as flushed as I promised they would be.” The hand cupping your breast slid farther up to hold your cheek, thumb grazing under your eye, close enough for you to flinch, “cum, detka.”
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