tahliafox

[tahliafox]

stop it rn i was playing farcry 6 i love Dani Rojas AAAAAAAAAAAAA

#dani rojas #farcry6

[tahliafox]

PLEASE READ!!

If i was to write a fanfiction/story with multiple chapters about older!natsha (based on my last two one shots) however, the other character wasnt to be y/n but an original character (with the same personality as i usually write, my style writing wont change at all), would you read it / or be as interested in it as others. Or, is it the fact that you can insert yourself into the story the reason why you read it?

I am asking as i can either do this with an OC called Lucia, or i can write it y/n. However, writing it as y/n makes it a little more difficult for me due to not being able to describe the character in as much detail.

Please respond asap, either in imbox (anon) or comment <3

#tahliestalks #natasha romanoff #older!natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader

[tahliafox]

welcome back!!! ur newest post is amazing i love ur writing <3

Thank you 💗💗💗💗💗

#tahliestalks

[tahliafox]

New post

Only you.

Natasha Romanoff x Reader.

Summary: “Oh, baby. It's only you. My special, little girl.” Natasha whispered into your ear, like a dirty secret. 

Warnings: Angst, Making out.

Word count: 1938 

This is an add on to Dirty Secret, my last published story.

Your finger flitted gently over the F# a couple times before a light pressure caused a horrendous off-key sound coming from the G in front of it. Your eyes tightly closed shut at the mistake.

“It’s an F#, darling.” The deep voice that appeared beside you made you flinch into a pair of thin, delicate hands that came to rest on your  tender shoulders. A green-flecked gaze ran over Natasha’s perfectly polished nails. From instant perception, the older woman's voice seemed to be aroused with disappointment.

The hand that once rested on your shoulder came and grasped at your shaky hands to place them onto the right keys. “A, then F#, then back to A. The notes are in triplets, play it rhythmically and evenly. That may prevent you from slipping again.” You took in a quiet breath, drying out your wanting lips. 

“I'm sorry, I have been trying to play it for ages now. I just can't get it right.” Your voice came out shaky, the breath taken in did little to calm your nerves- further prevented by the divine presence behind you. Natasha ran her hand back over to your shoulder and comfortingly caressed the tiffany blue, cotton shirt. Nimble fingers played with the satin collar that had been folded neatly, framing your porcelain neck. It was unfolded and folded again in exactly the same way, however it seemed to look neater after Natasha’s touch. 

“Why don’t you take a break, sweetheart. Maybe we could clear your head a little.” Natasha looked into your eyes through the gold-framed mirror in front of you both. You blushed under her gaze, as always, and nodded your head. “Fancy a walk?”`

You found yourself thoughtlessly agreeing.

Dancing ballet through thin plaits and red ribbons, the wind seemed to cool your forever flushed cheeks. Golden shards of light peaked through the patterned skyline created by browning leaves. The tree's trunks were home to a blanket of moss that creeped its way up through the branches. Ruby red heels clicked along the stoney, concrete road - that had been framed roughly by brittle leaves fallen from adjacently-lined rows of tall autumn-stained trees. 

Your hand fiddled with the fur lining at the end of your coat, nimble fingers occasionally brushing against the coffee-coloured, plaid skirt you had on. Your eyes were trained on the floor, watching your every step, dear God don’t fall over. You were oh-so careful, trying not to trip over any loose stones that may have been in your way- after all, embarrassing yourself in front of Natasha any more that you already had was the only thing racing through your mind. 

Covered in a ebony-black trench coat, Natasha looked glamorous and rich as always, with a cherry cigarette hanging from her lips. Her hair was tucked neatly into a french beret, secured by two pure gold clips. Everything she owned was so expensive, so expensive that you started to feel worth something every time Natasha layed her gentle fingers against your scarred skin.

“The sunsets are always beautiful this time of year.” Natasha put forth. Her hand was gently intertwined with your own, repeatedly rubbing her thumb over the back of your hand. The unconscious movement managed to both calm and panic you at the same time. The overwhelming being of Natasha never ceased to leave your frame of mind, she was always there. 

Natasha was not expecting the silence she was met with after her remark. You clearly had not cleared your mind yet. “Please try to stop thinking, darling. You have been ever-so stressed recently and it's starting to worry me- and believe me I need nothing less than more worry lines on my forehead.” she chuckled. Your gaze whipped from the gravel path into Natasha’s eyes. 

“You are beautiful.” You spluttered. Natasha blushed softly and raised her eyebrows- making you choke on a dry throat. The soft cigarette smoking coming from Natasha’s mouth weaved its way through the air. “I- I mean that you shouldn't worry about getting lines on your face. You’re already so beautiful and I- well there's nothing that could happen to your face to erase that.” You un-methodically rambled.  

Natasha listened with a sweet smile on her face. Her eyelashes fluttered as she took in the wonder in your eyes as you spoke about her. “Well, thank you very much, sweetheart.” Natasha squeezed your hand tightly in hers with the intention of comfort. 

You smiled and looked back at the floor, the disorder of thoughts slowly clearing. “Did you talk to Darren about my sleeping arrangements? He asked me to clear out the guest room downstairs for whilst he is away- to keep you company.” You changed the subject. Natasha’s smile sunk a little at the mention of her husband. 

“Why don’t we take a trip away as well. Nobody is needing us here, we could go to Rome. I know you speak italian.” Natasha mumbled. You nodded your head at the option. Rome was always lovely at this time of the year, and your apartment there looked over the skyline perfectly.

“I have a place there.” You mentioned. Natasha looked at her, surprised.

“You do?”

“Well, it used to be my Nonno’s, but after he passed away I inherited it. It's completely paid off and everything.”

Natasha smiled at you as you both got to the end of the gravelled road, reaching a perfectly preserved fence. A bay horse lifted its head from the grass, looking over to see you and Natasha standing over the fence. Natasha clicked her tongue at her horse.

The horse came trotting over with its head held high. 

“How come I don't look after the horses as well as the house?” You asked.

“I assumed you were not trained with equine animals. If you had mentioned it in your resume I would have discussed it with you.” Natasha ran her hand along the stripe on the geldings head.

“Oh- I am not trained with horses, I just assumed I would take care of everything.” You hesitated for a second. “You have other maids?”

Natasha furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head a little at the tone of your question. “Well, yes. It's a rather large estate and it would be impossible for you to clean it yourself, especially because you're not a live-in maid.” 

The realisation that there were other people that could possibly be this close to Natasha shot its way through your stomach like a bullet. What if you weren’t special? What if Natasha was just overly kind, overly giving? What if she’d been with another woman? A concerned look settled onto your face and, unbeknownst to yourself, Natasha was watching every twitch, every little movement to try and read what you were thinking. So lost in thought, you didn't even realise that Natasha's hand had let go of your own hand, and was now reaching its way onto your cheek. 

The juxtaposing smells of Natasha’s cherry wrist and the horse's mane were able to pull you out of a trance. Natasha held your face ever-so delicately and lifted your chin so she could look directly into soft eyes. Like the scent of Natasha, a cherry shade flooded onto your cheeks- all the way to the tips of your ears. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Natasha kindly demanded.

“Do you talk to everyone like this? Do you… well, are you with anyone as well as this?” The innocence of the question, followed with the despair that painted its way onto your face made Natasha pull you into her firm hold. You wrapped your arms around Natashas waist as one of her hands made its way into your hair, scratching at your scalp softly. 

“Oh, baby, only you. My special, little girl.” Natasha whispered into your ear, like a dirty secret. You burrowed your head into Natasha’s neck, allowing the sweet smell to dissipate your thoughts. Natasha rested her chin on top of combed hair and swayed you in her arms, whilst continuously stroking a line from the base of your neck to scalp.

After a long moment, you pulled away from Natasha’s neck, keeping the woman close in your arms. Your head turned away from Natasha’s gaze, scouting the area to see if anyone was with the two of you. 

“Kiss me.” You stated.

Natasha seemed to know everything, but at this moment she went foolish, you hadn't asked her for anything since that night. Often pervaded with words, she found herself speechless. She’d kissed you before, she’d fucked you before yet this was different, thought through- intimate, less impulsive. Sharply inhaling through her nose, (the sweet smell of you not helping her state of overwhelm) went blank, and opened her mouth.

“What?” The older woman's voice, unlike her face, was filled with emotion and expression.  It held a tone of something that you’d never heard before- disbelief maybe, so abnormal that your stomach started to curl. Her voice went- she tried to respond but all that happened was an opening of pretty, pink lips and the release of a cut breath. Natasha stared with shock for a few seconds, her mouth had dropped open the same. Her eyes flicked around the property they were on, after realising they were truly alone she nodded.

“Ask- ask me again and I'll give you anything. I’ll give you everything, just ask me.” Natasha’s voice was desperate. The young girl stole her thoughts and replaced them with images of what could happen. Breathing out of her nose, she closed her eyes and dropped so her forehead was resting against yours. “Please, baby. Ask me again.” The desperate voice dropped to a pleading whisper. 

“Kiss me.”

Despite the sheer desperation swimming within Natasha, she was gentle and kind. Soft, moisturised lips kissed themselves on your shaky mouth, pecking twice- why was she being so damn gentle-  until it got too much. You whined, feeling the older woman inhale against your mouth as the noise registered in her ears. Her legs subtly got closer, almost crossing.

Your eyes were closed, so tightly- as if you were making it up in your head and the permission of sight would cause a decay of the dream. But it was real, as real as Natasha’s nose brushing against yours, her lips intertwined, sucking on your lower lip. As real as her bold, undiscouraged hands gripping at your waist, forcing an arch in your back as she leaned into you.

Your slender arms draped over her neck, the crinkles in your shirt, the dip in her knees. Raphael couldn't paint a prettier picture than what was standing in broad daylight. 

“Please.” You begged, not knowing what you were actually asking for.

More, anything. 

“What, baby?” her mouth drew a millimetre away from yours. “Tell me what you need.”

You stuttered. Her, just her. 

“You, please.” so frail, so inexperienced. What were you supposed to ask for other than her? You just wanted her again.

Yet the world seemed so unkind, as the faint tapping of boots against cobbled stone started to get louder. Natasha withdrew herself from you completely, and in the matter of seconds you seemed to go through withdrawals. Your eyes widened, then welled.

The older woman had you at almost arms length, she consistently observed the surroundings. You begged that no one had seen the both of you together. Once so tender, she went cold, then started walking away from you. 

“Go back inside, finish your duties.” she ordered, as if she was talking to staff. You then realised she was, and that's what you were to her, an employee.

[tahliafox]

Only you.

Natasha Romanoff x Reader.

Summary: “Oh, baby. It's only you. My special, little girl.” Natasha whispered into your ear, like a dirty secret. 

Warnings: Angst, Making out.

Word count: 1938 

This is an add on to Dirty Secret, my last published story.

Your finger flitted gently over the F# a couple times before a light pressure caused a horrendous off-key sound coming from the G in front of it. Your eyes tightly closed shut at the mistake.

“It’s an F#, darling.” The deep voice that appeared beside you made you flinch into a pair of thin, delicate hands that came to rest on your  tender shoulders. A green-flecked gaze ran over Natasha’s perfectly polished nails. From instant perception, the older woman's voice seemed to be aroused with disappointment.

The hand that once rested on your shoulder came and grasped at your shaky hands to place them onto the right keys. “A, then F#, then back to A. The notes are in triplets, play it rhythmically and evenly. That may prevent you from slipping again.” You took in a quiet breath, drying out your wanting lips. 

“I'm sorry, I have been trying to play it for ages now. I just can't get it right.” Your voice came out shaky, the breath taken in did little to calm your nerves- further prevented by the divine presence behind you. Natasha ran her hand back over to your shoulder and comfortingly caressed the tiffany blue, cotton shirt. Nimble fingers played with the satin collar that had been folded neatly, framing your porcelain neck. It was unfolded and folded again in exactly the same way, however it seemed to look neater after Natasha’s touch. 

“Why don’t you take a break, sweetheart. Maybe we could clear your head a little.” Natasha looked into your eyes through the gold-framed mirror in front of you both. You blushed under her gaze, as always, and nodded your head. “Fancy a walk?”`

You found yourself thoughtlessly agreeing.

Dancing ballet through thin plaits and red ribbons, the wind seemed to cool your forever flushed cheeks. Golden shards of light peaked through the patterned skyline created by browning leaves. The tree's trunks were home to a blanket of moss that creeped its way up through the branches. Ruby red heels clicked along the stoney, concrete road - that had been framed roughly by brittle leaves fallen from adjacently-lined rows of tall autumn-stained trees. 

Your hand fiddled with the fur lining at the end of your coat, nimble fingers occasionally brushing against the coffee-coloured, plaid skirt you had on. Your eyes were trained on the floor, watching your every step, dear God don’t fall over. You were oh-so careful, trying not to trip over any loose stones that may have been in your way- after all, embarrassing yourself in front of Natasha any more that you already had was the only thing racing through your mind. 

Covered in a ebony-black trench coat, Natasha looked glamorous and rich as always, with a cherry cigarette hanging from her lips. Her hair was tucked neatly into a french beret, secured by two pure gold clips. Everything she owned was so expensive, so expensive that you started to feel worth something every time Natasha layed her gentle fingers against your scarred skin.

“The sunsets are always beautiful this time of year.” Natasha put forth. Her hand was gently intertwined with your own, repeatedly rubbing her thumb over the back of your hand. The unconscious movement managed to both calm and panic you at the same time. The overwhelming being of Natasha never ceased to leave your frame of mind, she was always there. 

Natasha was not expecting the silence she was met with after her remark. You clearly had not cleared your mind yet. “Please try to stop thinking, darling. You have been ever-so stressed recently and it's starting to worry me- and believe me I need nothing less than more worry lines on my forehead.” she chuckled. Your gaze whipped from the gravel path into Natasha’s eyes. 

“You are beautiful.” You spluttered. Natasha blushed softly and raised her eyebrows- making you choke on a dry throat. The soft cigarette smoking coming from Natasha’s mouth weaved its way through the air. “I- I mean that you shouldn't worry about getting lines on your face. You’re already so beautiful and I- well there's nothing that could happen to your face to erase that.” You un-methodically rambled.  

Natasha listened with a sweet smile on her face. Her eyelashes fluttered as she took in the wonder in your eyes as you spoke about her. “Well, thank you very much, sweetheart.” Natasha squeezed your hand tightly in hers with the intention of comfort. 

You smiled and looked back at the floor, the disorder of thoughts slowly clearing. “Did you talk to Darren about my sleeping arrangements? He asked me to clear out the guest room downstairs for whilst he is away- to keep you company.” You changed the subject. Natasha’s smile sunk a little at the mention of her husband. 

“Why don’t we take a trip away as well. Nobody is needing us here, we could go to Rome. I know you speak italian.” Natasha mumbled. You nodded your head at the option. Rome was always lovely at this time of the year, and your apartment there looked over the skyline perfectly.

“I have a place there.” You mentioned. Natasha looked at her, surprised.

“You do?”

“Well, it used to be my Nonno’s, but after he passed away I inherited it. It's completely paid off and everything.”

Natasha smiled at you as you both got to the end of the gravelled road, reaching a perfectly preserved fence. A bay horse lifted its head from the grass, looking over to see you and Natasha standing over the fence. Natasha clicked her tongue at her horse.

The horse came trotting over with its head held high. 

“How come I don't look after the horses as well as the house?” You asked.

“I assumed you were not trained with equine animals. If you had mentioned it in your resume I would have discussed it with you.” Natasha ran her hand along the stripe on the geldings head.

“Oh- I am not trained with horses, I just assumed I would take care of everything.” You hesitated for a second. “You have other maids?”

Natasha furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head a little at the tone of your question. “Well, yes. It's a rather large estate and it would be impossible for you to clean it yourself, especially because you're not a live-in maid.” 

The realisation that there were other people that could possibly be this close to Natasha shot its way through your stomach like a bullet. What if you weren’t special? What if Natasha was just overly kind, overly giving? What if she’d been with another woman? A concerned look settled onto your face and, unbeknownst to yourself, Natasha was watching every twitch, every little movement to try and read what you were thinking. So lost in thought, you didn't even realise that Natasha's hand had let go of your own hand, and was now reaching its way onto your cheek. 

The juxtaposing smells of Natasha’s cherry wrist and the horse's mane were able to pull you out of a trance. Natasha held your face ever-so delicately and lifted your chin so she could look directly into soft eyes. Like the scent of Natasha, a cherry shade flooded onto your cheeks- all the way to the tips of your ears. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Natasha kindly demanded.

“Do you talk to everyone like this? Do you… well, are you with anyone as well as this?” The innocence of the question, followed with the despair that painted its way onto your face made Natasha pull you into her firm hold. You wrapped your arms around Natashas waist as one of her hands made its way into your hair, scratching at your scalp softly. 

“Oh, baby, only you. My special, little girl.” Natasha whispered into your ear, like a dirty secret. You burrowed your head into Natasha’s neck, allowing the sweet smell to dissipate your thoughts. Natasha rested her chin on top of combed hair and swayed you in her arms, whilst continuously stroking a line from the base of your neck to scalp.

After a long moment, you pulled away from Natasha’s neck, keeping the woman close in your arms. Your head turned away from Natasha’s gaze, scouting the area to see if anyone was with the two of you. 

“Kiss me.” You stated.

Natasha seemed to know everything, but at this moment she went foolish, you hadn't asked her for anything since that night. Often pervaded with words, she found herself speechless. She’d kissed you before, she’d fucked you before yet this was different, thought through- intimate, less impulsive. Sharply inhaling through her nose, (the sweet smell of you not helping her state of overwhelm) went blank, and opened her mouth.

“What?” The older woman's voice, unlike her face, was filled with emotion and expression.  It held a tone of something that you’d never heard before- disbelief maybe, so abnormal that your stomach started to curl. Her voice went- she tried to respond but all that happened was an opening of pretty, pink lips and the release of a cut breath. Natasha stared with shock for a few seconds, her mouth had dropped open the same. Her eyes flicked around the property they were on, after realising they were truly alone she nodded.

“Ask- ask me again and I'll give you anything. I’ll give you everything, just ask me.” Natasha’s voice was desperate. The young girl stole her thoughts and replaced them with images of what could happen. Breathing out of her nose, she closed her eyes and dropped so her forehead was resting against yours. “Please, baby. Ask me again.” The desperate voice dropped to a pleading whisper. 

“Kiss me.”

Despite the sheer desperation swimming within Natasha, she was gentle and kind. Soft, moisturised lips kissed themselves on your shaky mouth, pecking twice- why was she being so damn gentle-  until it got too much. You whined, feeling the older woman inhale against your mouth as the noise registered in her ears. Her legs subtly got closer, almost crossing.

Your eyes were closed, so tightly- as if you were making it up in your head and the permission of sight would cause a decay of the dream. But it was real, as real as Natasha’s nose brushing against yours, her lips intertwined, sucking on your lower lip. As real as her bold, undiscouraged hands gripping at your waist, forcing an arch in your back as she leaned into you.

Your slender arms draped over her neck, the crinkles in your shirt, the dip in her knees. Raphael couldn't paint a prettier picture than what was standing in broad daylight. 

“Please.” You begged, not knowing what you were actually asking for.

More, anything. 

“What, baby?” her mouth drew a millimetre away from yours. “Tell me what you need.”

You stuttered. Her, just her. 

“You, please.” so frail, so inexperienced. What were you supposed to ask for other than her? You just wanted her again.

Yet the world seemed so unkind, as the faint tapping of boots against cobbled stone started to get louder. Natasha withdrew herself from you completely, and in the matter of seconds you seemed to go through withdrawals. Your eyes widened, then welled.

The older woman had you at almost arms length, she consistently observed the surroundings. You begged that no one had seen the both of you together. Once so tender, she went cold, then started walking away from you. 

“Go back inside, finish your duties.” she ordered, as if she was talking to staff. You then realised she was, and that's what you were to her, an employee.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #older!natasha romanoff #older!natasharomanoff #tahliesfics

[tahliafox]

guess who's back

#tahliestalks

[tahliafox]

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out! ❤️😘

AAAAA THANK YOU

[tahliafox]

i am delusional

there i made conversation finally LMFAO

twinz 🤞🤞

an older woman started working same shifts as I do and I’m delusional enough to think there might be something. she is so pretty I wanna cry

[tahliafox]

You guys should talk to me more 💔💔

#tahliestalks

[tahliafox]

Do we like?? New fic!,

Dirty secret.

Natasha Romanoff x Reader.

Summary: You were Natasha’s dirty secret. Set in the 1950s. 

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Smut, soft sex.

Word count: 1968 

“Can I ask you things?” The phone was held close to your mouth as you whispered, afraid of someone understanding the intent captive within your words. The fear of rejection was slowly settling into your stomach as she didn't answer immediately. She was so much older than you, and knew lots more than you. God, she probably thought you were so naïve. Your hands shook, so did your breath, waiting for the woman on the other end of the phone to answer. 

Despite being alone in her room, in the comfort of her own home, Natasha was posed similarly. The hunch of her back and hair strewn over her face did nothing to dissipate her glamour. She cradled the receiver in her hand, as if she was holding the delicacy of your face, and pressed her lips to the plastic. Her voice was lowered to a whisper, but that did nothing to cloud the desperation that she seeped.

“Yes.” 

A trembling breath was heard.

“Please, ask me things.”

You smiled against the phone, dipping your head forwards at the answer. You were going to ask her things. It was the first time today that your boyfriend had settled into your mind. Arthur. 

“God, you sound like a schoolgirl” He had groaned on the other side of the kitchen island. “Do you have a crush on this woman? You’ve barely known her a day and I can see you blushing as you speak.”

His hands were gripping the counter tightly, making your stomach flutter- but not in the way Natasha had you feeling. This flutter had been uneasy and unwelcomed. He looked like he wanted to hurt you. 

Natasha’s voice broke your train of thought, everything flew from your mind as she spoke. 

“You can ask me tomorrow. I will come over.”

The dial tone of the phone rang, and her voice was gone again.

You spent the night cleaning your apartment, worrying about how out of place Natasha would look standing in your dingy living room. Then, in the morning, you cleaned some more, spraying freshener around the apartment and opening some windows. 

The judgement you had expected to find on the woman's face was not there when you opened the door. She was standing there, she's actually there. You swallowed, took in a sharp breath through your parted lips, then welcomed her in.

“Your landlady let me in. Sorry if I surprised you.” She spoke for the first time and the giddy feeling was drawn back into, just like last night when you were talking on the phone. Maybe Arthur was right, you did have a crush on the woman. Can I have feelings for a woman? 

Maybe that was what you would ask her. 

Natasha walked through the hallway, eyes flitting around the photos hung up on the walls. You were suddenly aware of all the cracks in the ceiling, and the squeak of the floorboards. Your eyebrows furrowed and you shut your eyes tightly, cringing at the derelict room.

“Is this your boyfriend?” If you hadn't been so aware of the state of the place, you would have noticed the edge on her voice. She seemed to go tense and her fingers brushed against the copper picture frame. You hesitantly glanced at where she was pointing, then nodded. 

“Arthur.” You said. 

Natasha took a few more paces, into the kitchen and lent herself against the counter, facing you. Her arms extended to her sides, holding her up, and she sighed.

“Do you like him?” She asked. Weren't you the one who was supposed to ask questions?

“He is… ok.” You muttered. Natasha tilted her head and a small smile graced her lips. Why was she smiling at your misery?

“Ok? Boyfriends aren't supposed to be ok.” She chuckled, then added. “However, he is a man so I’m hardly surprised.”

“Women are better?” The statement was posed as a question and Natasha gazed to the floor. Was that too far? The words rushed out of your mouth before you could stop them and god, you absolutely were so naïve to think that the woman standing before you would actually answer that question without judgement. You froze, then inhaled, then rambled.

“I- I mean, well, men are so rough, and not very nice. And I don't know if I like that. Maybe I need someone more gentle than Arthur. But you say that men are ok, so could I find one better than him? Am i even good enough to have someone better than him- and- and what if i dont deserve better, what if-”

Natasha cut you off at the incredulous idea of you not being good enough, not deserving better. She was better. You were law-breakingly perfect to her. No religious rules, no societal expectation could fade away your delicacy and charm. The law against two women being together stunned her on a daily basis, of course it was set by a man. No man could ever be this perfect in her eyes. No person. 

“Angel.” she interrupted. You stopped, then started to try and calm your breathing. She walked forwards to you then ran her hands over your shoulders. Pale fingers brushed the hair out of your eyes. Natasha smiled, gently, longingly. Often pervaded with words, the blank sheet that clouded her mind troubled her. Yet, it was hard to register that trouble when you were standing in front of her. 

“You deserve better. You deserve gentleness, softness, intimacy.” and though it pained her, she mumbled. “Someone is out there, it will be like that with someone. I know you will find it, my dear.”

Before you could stop yourself, you asked,

“Would it be like that with you?”

Natasha smiled and cupped your face, looked above your face, as she was taller than you, and pulled you in closer. 

“It would.”

Her lips were right there, all you had to do was lean up. You wanted her to show you, and you would be damned if it didn’t happen today. You wanted gentle, you wanted kind. You wanted her. 

“Show me.” You pleaded. “Please, show me. I need you to show me.”

Natasha whimpered and looked into your eyes once more. 

“Natasha.”

Her name dripped from your mouth and any restraint she had left. Her lips pressed onto yours and parted softly. Her breath was in your mouth, then her hands were in your hair and all you could feel was the aching, throbbing of your entire being. She needed to do more, she had to do more. 

You kissed her with desperation and when she responded so beautifully your legs started to buckle, your hands gripped at her shoulders. God, she was going to kill you, this was going to end you and you didn't care. This was everything. 

“God, my angel.” she pulled back a few millimeters and started repeatedly pecking your lips. Her mouth trailed down your face, to your jaw, then neck. “You’re so good, so perfect.”

How could something this good be so wrong?

“Please.” Your leg was pulled onto her hip and her wandering, gripping hands were touching your thigh. “Please, please, please.” Your head tipped back and she moaned so wetly into your ear. 

“You’re trembling.” she muttered into your skin. For you, you thought over and over. All for her. 

Her hand danced up your thigh and her lips found yours again, but you couldn't focus on kissing her back when her polished fingers were pressing over your panties, over your wetness. She could feel you seeping through the thin cotton and suddenly nothing was enough, nothing would ever be enough until she had you whole. 

Her fingers raced from your underwear, back to your thighs and she hoisted you onto her hips. “Show me where your bedroom is.” She moaned. You pointed to the door to your left and she walked into the room with you wrapped around her. 

She let you down and stood you Infront of her. Her hands found the buttons to your blouse, she asked you permission to undress you, then did. Everything was shaky, trembling and you thought it was from nerves, but how could a woman like her ever be nervous with a girl like you. She was so.. So everything. Everything you weren't, but in this movement she wanted you. She needed you.

Her pure desperation for you finally made you feel something good, something important. And god, you were important if she needed you. 

“Fuck, my angel.” your top had been discarded on the floor, with your skirt and you were left in nothing but your cotton panties. Her hand glided over your boob, brushing your pert nipples and finding their way to your neck. “Unworldly.” she mumbled. 

You whimpered, and she kissed you again, this time slower with more patience. Your hands went to her ginger hair, soft and slow. Her fingers made her way back to your underwear, she cupped you then palmed her hand a few times making your body jolt into her. 

“Just like that.” she pulled back and pressed her forehead against yours. “Come on, baby. Let me feel you.” she hooked her fingers around your underwear then fell down your body, pulling them down. Her mouth was suddenly level with your cunt. “So pretty.”

Her forehead pressed desperately against your pubic bone and she could only smell you, feel you, touch you.

“Please. Please let me.” She begged, and you didn’t know what she was begging for but you nodded your head anyways. You could never say no to her. 

And when her tongue ran its way through the slick heat of you, everything became worth it. Every single moment you had waited, the agony of needing her yet not getting her was nothing because all you could feel was her mouth, and her hands.

You found home in her hair, clutching at it, tugging. She moaned into you and the vibrations brought you right to the edge. Arthur had never made you cum, no one had. The feeling was so unfamiliar and new your heart was starting to flutter more than it already was.

Natasha must have heard it, or felt it somehow because she was all of a sudden running two fingers through your folds, then curling them inside of you, gently. The windows being open had left your mind ages ago, and you screamed.

You screamed so desperately and so hotly that Natasha nearly came herself. 

“Say my name, baby.” she asked.

You complied immediately and started chanting her name like a prayer. Somehow the audio of her being kept bringing you closer to the edge, and you wanted to fall so badly your words got quicker and more incoherent and Natasha sped her mouth and fingers up. 

She brought your clit into her mouth and sucked on it, then ran her tongue up and down you, to suck again. Her fingers found a fast pace within you and curled incessantly, hitting something  so good every single time. 

“Let go, darling. Cum for me.” The words sounded so dirty leaving her, but so right. You followed her orders and fell over the edge.

You could feel everything, yet nothing. The explicitly overwhelming feeling of her hands, her mouth and the throbbing of your cunt was so much you screamed, people must've thought you were being murdered. Natasha flew up your body and started using you mouth with hers, swallowing all the vulgar noises that dared to leave you. 

After what seemed like an hour you started coming back down into her. She held you so tightly, yet so softly, you were immediately grounded within her. 

“My perfect, little girl.” she whispered like it was a dirty secret and you nodded. 

“Yours.” you confirmed and she nuzzled into you.

[tahliafox]

Yo! Welcome back!

Waiting for your writing eagerly 😁

its posted!!!!! thank you so much <333

#tahliestalks

[tahliafox]

Dirty secret.

Natasha Romanoff x Reader.

Summary: You were Natasha’s dirty secret. Set in the 1950s. 

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Smut, soft sex.

Word count: 1968 

“Can I ask you things?” The phone was held close to your mouth as you whispered, afraid of someone understanding the intent captive within your words. The fear of rejection was slowly settling into your stomach as she didn't answer immediately. She was so much older than you, and knew lots more than you. God, she probably thought you were so naïve. Your hands shook, so did your breath, waiting for the woman on the other end of the phone to answer. 

Despite being alone in her room, in the comfort of her own home, Natasha was posed similarly. The hunch of her back and hair strewn over her face did nothing to dissipate her glamour. She cradled the receiver in her hand, as if she was holding the delicacy of your face, and pressed her lips to the plastic. Her voice was lowered to a whisper, but that did nothing to cloud the desperation that she seeped.

“Yes.” 

A trembling breath was heard.

“Please, ask me things.”

You smiled against the phone, dipping your head forwards at the answer. You were going to ask her things. It was the first time today that your boyfriend had settled into your mind. Arthur. 

“God, you sound like a schoolgirl” He had groaned on the other side of the kitchen island. “Do you have a crush on this woman? You’ve barely known her a day and I can see you blushing as you speak.”

His hands were gripping the counter tightly, making your stomach flutter- but not in the way Natasha had you feeling. This flutter had been uneasy and unwelcomed. He looked like he wanted to hurt you. 

Natasha’s voice broke your train of thought, everything flew from your mind as she spoke. 

“You can ask me tomorrow. I will come over.”

The dial tone of the phone rang, and her voice was gone again.

You spent the night cleaning your apartment, worrying about how out of place Natasha would look standing in your dingy living room. Then, in the morning, you cleaned some more, spraying freshener around the apartment and opening some windows. 

The judgement you had expected to find on the woman's face was not there when you opened the door. She was standing there, she's actually there. You swallowed, took in a sharp breath through your parted lips, then welcomed her in.

“Your landlady let me in. Sorry if I surprised you.” She spoke for the first time and the giddy feeling was drawn back into, just like last night when you were talking on the phone. Maybe Arthur was right, you did have a crush on the woman. Can I have feelings for a woman? 

Maybe that was what you would ask her. 

Natasha walked through the hallway, eyes flitting around the photos hung up on the walls. You were suddenly aware of all the cracks in the ceiling, and the squeak of the floorboards. Your eyebrows furrowed and you shut your eyes tightly, cringing at the derelict room.

“Is this your boyfriend?” If you hadn't been so aware of the state of the place, you would have noticed the edge on her voice. She seemed to go tense and her fingers brushed against the copper picture frame. You hesitantly glanced at where she was pointing, then nodded. 

“Arthur.” You said. 

Natasha took a few more paces, into the kitchen and lent herself against the counter, facing you. Her arms extended to her sides, holding her up, and she sighed.

“Do you like him?” She asked. Weren't you the one who was supposed to ask questions?

“He is… ok.” You muttered. Natasha tilted her head and a small smile graced her lips. Why was she smiling at your misery?

“Ok? Boyfriends aren't supposed to be ok.” She chuckled, then added. “However, he is a man so I’m hardly surprised.”

“Women are better?” The statement was posed as a question and Natasha gazed to the floor. Was that too far? The words rushed out of your mouth before you could stop them and god, you absolutely were so naïve to think that the woman standing before you would actually answer that question without judgement. You froze, then inhaled, then rambled.

“I- I mean, well, men are so rough, and not very nice. And I don't know if I like that. Maybe I need someone more gentle than Arthur. But you say that men are ok, so could I find one better than him? Am i even good enough to have someone better than him- and- and what if i dont deserve better, what if-”

Natasha cut you off at the incredulous idea of you not being good enough, not deserving better. She was better. You were law-breakingly perfect to her. No religious rules, no societal expectation could fade away your delicacy and charm. The law against two women being together stunned her on a daily basis, of course it was set by a man. No man could ever be this perfect in her eyes. No person. 

“Angel.” she interrupted. You stopped, then started to try and calm your breathing. She walked forwards to you then ran her hands over your shoulders. Pale fingers brushed the hair out of your eyes. Natasha smiled, gently, longingly. Often pervaded with words, the blank sheet that clouded her mind troubled her. Yet, it was hard to register that trouble when you were standing in front of her. 

“You deserve better. You deserve gentleness, softness, intimacy.” and though it pained her, she mumbled. “Someone is out there, it will be like that with someone. I know you will find it, my dear.”

Before you could stop yourself, you asked,

“Would it be like that with you?”

Natasha smiled and cupped your face, looked above your face, as she was taller than you, and pulled you in closer. 

“It would.”

Her lips were right there, all you had to do was lean up. You wanted her to show you, and you would be damned if it didn’t happen today. You wanted gentle, you wanted kind. You wanted her. 

“Show me.” You pleaded. “Please, show me. I need you to show me.”

Natasha whimpered and looked into your eyes once more. 

“Natasha.”

Her name dripped from your mouth and any restraint she had left. Her lips pressed onto yours and parted softly. Her breath was in your mouth, then her hands were in your hair and all you could feel was the aching, throbbing of your entire being. She needed to do more, she had to do more. 

You kissed her with desperation and when she responded so beautifully your legs started to buckle, your hands gripped at her shoulders. God, she was going to kill you, this was going to end you and you didn't care. This was everything. 

“God, my angel.” she pulled back a few millimeters and started repeatedly pecking your lips. Her mouth trailed down your face, to your jaw, then neck. “You’re so good, so perfect.”

How could something this good be so wrong?

“Please.” Your leg was pulled onto her hip and her wandering, gripping hands were touching your thigh. “Please, please, please.” Your head tipped back and she moaned so wetly into your ear. 

“You’re trembling.” she muttered into your skin. For you, you thought over and over. All for her. 

Her hand danced up your thigh and her lips found yours again, but you couldn't focus on kissing her back when her polished fingers were pressing over your panties, over your wetness. She could feel you seeping through the thin cotton and suddenly nothing was enough, nothing would ever be enough until she had you whole. 

Her fingers raced from your underwear, back to your thighs and she hoisted you onto her hips. “Show me where your bedroom is.” She moaned. You pointed to the door to your left and she walked into the room with you wrapped around her. 

She let you down and stood you Infront of her. Her hands found the buttons to your blouse, she asked you permission to undress you, then did. Everything was shaky, trembling and you thought it was from nerves, but how could a woman like her ever be nervous with a girl like you. She was so.. So everything. Everything you weren't, but in this movement she wanted you. She needed you.

Her pure desperation for you finally made you feel something good, something important. And god, you were important if she needed you. 

“Fuck, my angel.” your top had been discarded on the floor, with your skirt and you were left in nothing but your cotton panties. Her hand glided over your boob, brushing your pert nipples and finding their way to your neck. “Unworldly.” she mumbled. 

You whimpered, and she kissed you again, this time slower with more patience. Your hands went to her ginger hair, soft and slow. Her fingers made her way back to your underwear, she cupped you then palmed her hand a few times making your body jolt into her. 

“Just like that.” she pulled back and pressed her forehead against yours. “Come on, baby. Let me feel you.” she hooked her fingers around your underwear then fell down your body, pulling them down. Her mouth was suddenly level with your cunt. “So pretty.”

Her forehead pressed desperately against your pubic bone and she could only smell you, feel you, touch you.

“Please. Please let me.” She begged, and you didn’t know what she was begging for but you nodded your head anyways. You could never say no to her. 

And when her tongue ran its way through the slick heat of you, everything became worth it. Every single moment you had waited, the agony of needing her yet not getting her was nothing because all you could feel was her mouth, and her hands.

You found home in her hair, clutching at it, tugging. She moaned into you and the vibrations brought you right to the edge. Arthur had never made you cum, no one had. The feeling was so unfamiliar and new your heart was starting to flutter more than it already was.

Natasha must have heard it, or felt it somehow because she was all of a sudden running two fingers through your folds, then curling them inside of you, gently. The windows being open had left your mind ages ago, and you screamed.

You screamed so desperately and so hotly that Natasha nearly came herself. 

“Say my name, baby.” she asked.

You complied immediately and started chanting her name like a prayer. Somehow the audio of her being kept bringing you closer to the edge, and you wanted to fall so badly your words got quicker and more incoherent and Natasha sped her mouth and fingers up. 

She brought your clit into her mouth and sucked on it, then ran her tongue up and down you, to suck again. Her fingers found a fast pace within you and curled incessantly, hitting something  so good every single time. 

“Let go, darling. Cum for me.” The words sounded so dirty leaving her, but so right. You followed her orders and fell over the edge.

You could feel everything, yet nothing. The explicitly overwhelming feeling of her hands, her mouth and the throbbing of your cunt was so much you screamed, people must've thought you were being murdered. Natasha flew up your body and started using you mouth with hers, swallowing all the vulgar noises that dared to leave you. 

After what seemed like an hour you started coming back down into her. She held you so tightly, yet so softly, you were immediately grounded within her. 

“My perfect, little girl.” she whispered like it was a dirty secret and you nodded. 

“Yours.” you confirmed and she nuzzled into you.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff smut #older!nat #natasha romanoff fluff #tahliesfics

[tahliafox]

Guess who is writing for the first time in ages. 😬😬😬

#tahliestalks

[tahliafox]

happy pride month ! 🏳️‍🌈

Happy pride month 🌈

[tahliafox]

You should add a degrading kink warning to this (https://www.tumblr.com/tahliafox/718505183568707584/you-need-me) “mean nat” isn’t enough of a warning.

done, my apologies 💗

[tahliafox]

You need me

Natasha Romanoff x Reader.

Summary: you don't need Natasha.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, mean!nat, mommy!nat, choking, slapping, degrading

Word count: 960

You tapped your pen on the wooden surface of your desk, listening to the hum of the air conditioning flowing through your train of thought. Unbeknownst to you, Natasha had been intently watching you for the previous 25 minutes from the soft couch in the corner of the room. 

“Princess.” Natasha called your attention. You immediately turned your head and smiled at her. “Why don’t you have a break from studying? You’ve been distracted for ages, my love.” 

Your frown dissipated, soft layers of hair fell out from behind your ear as you shook your head. “Can’t, Natty. Have exams soon, and I have to study.” you whined. History was seriously kicking your ass. 

Natasha stretched her arms above her head, the sleeves of her burgundy jumper slipped to the mid of her forearm. The muscles flexed and you salvated a little, staring. Calloused hands pushed the sleeves up further, to stay above her elbows, whilst she stood up. You took in a sharp breath through your nose and closed your eyes tightly, trying to re-focus on your paper. 

Natasha stood, watching you with a disappointed look on her tilted head. You stopped rhythmically tapping your pen and traced the lines in your book, trying to make sense of the words.

“Stop studying. Pay me some attention, angel. Please.” 

In the midst of trying to read, Natasha had walked so she was standing with her stomach resting against the back of your office chair, her hands massaging through your shoulders. She leaned down so her plump lips were resting against your ear.

Soft kisses began to trail along the length of your neck. You swallowed and kept tracing the words. 

“Natasha, I need to study.” You said, voice cracking from butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Natasha moaned and sucked a hickey into your shoulder. “Mommy needs you. Take a break.”

A jolting feeling coursed its way through you like electricity. You shrugged your shoulders to get Natasha’s mouth away from your skin. “Well I don't need mommy, I need to study. I have a paper tomorrow.” Your voice came out stern.

For a moment, you thought you won. Natasha seemed to pull away and go silent.

“Do you want to say that again?” Her voice was tauntingly dark. You froze. Natasha hummed and spun the leather chair so you were facing her. Your eyes drifted straight to the floor. “You don't need me? Is that what you said?”

You shook your head in denial.

Natasha raised her voice. “No. Fucking say it.” 

You shook your head again.

“All your silly confidence gone now? Can’t you look your own mommy in the eyes? Tell me you don't need me, go on.” her hand roughly gripped your chin, forcing your face up so you had to look into her piercing eyes.  “Say it, I dare you.”

You stayed silent.

Wrong choice. 

Natasha hoisted you up from under your arms and carelessly pushed you across the room. You stumbled on your feet and fell over, but Natasha just rolled her eyes and picked you back up- placing you on the couch. She laid you down and crawled on top of you.

Her breath was heavy and forearms were gripping at the velvet material beside your head. For a second she just stared, but then unexpectedly smirked and crashed her lips against yours. You tried to kiss back but her mouth dominated yours, sucking your tongue into her mouth and biting at your lips. 

Rough hands gripped at your neck, cutting your supply of oxygen. Your slender, weak fingers went to hold her wrist, trying to get it off but she just laughed against your lips and gripped harder.

Starting to see stars, you coughed and sputtered against Natasha’s mouth. She released her hold on your neck and you gasped for air. Throbbing with need, Natasha smacked her hand against the crotch of your little shorts. Your body jolted at the touch and you moaned.

“Fucking whore, saying you dont need me.” she grumbled against your neck. Her hand shoved its way into your underwear and smeared your arousal all over your pussy. “Show me you don't need me.

You opened your eyes and looked confused. Thin shorts were ripped from your legs, along with your underwear and cold air hit your cunt.

“Show me you don't need me. Touch yourself.”

You hesitated, confused and Natasha smacked you. “Fucking do it.” She snarled. 

You whimpered and brought a hand down to your own cunt, rubbing at your clit gently. Natasha stared intently at you.

“That's how you touch yourself? Got you cant even fuck yourself right.”

Rubbing faster, you brought the other hand to grope your own tits, pinching at your nipples. It wasn't enough.

“Please, mommy.” you moaned, pressing down against the bundle of nerves.

“Tell me you need me.” she groaned.

“I need you, mommy. Need you so bad. Please.” 

Her hand came down at your pussy, shoving two fingers into you. Fucking you ruthlessly, she bit at your neck. 

“Look at you, you fuckin’ whore. Just a slut for mommy's fingers, isn’t that right.”

You nodded your head and arched into her fingers, the coil in your stomach tightening. “Yes, mommy. Need you so bad.”

“Yeah? Show me baby, come on my fingers like a good girl.”

Your breaths came in whining and short. “Please, please.” You begged. Natasha brought her other hand to your clit and started rubbing it, fastly. “Oh god, yes.” you moaned. The coil in your stomach snapped and you screamed.

“Just like that, angel. Good job.”

Natasha didnt slow down her movements, fucking you as intensley as before. 

“Wait-” you moaned, overstimulated.

“Oh, honey. You need mommy a little more than that. Let me show you.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff smut #older!nat #natasha romanoff fluff #mommy natasha #mommy!nat #mommy natasha romanoff #tahliesfics

[tahliafox]

hey do you have any nat scissor fics other than ‘this stupid dress’? And if so could you please like them?

I know this has some scissoring. Sorry there isn’t much, need to write more.