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sytoran · 24 days

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Ride

Summary: She can read your moods like a magazine, and she definitely can ride your moods like a pro.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

A/N: Apparently, I don’t know how to write smut stuff. Take easy on me, guys. Enjoy. Proofread by the darling @californianwhiterabbit

Warnings: +18 only, smut so minors DNI, heavily explicit language, strap-on, mentions of death, angst?

“She rides it like a roller coaster”

You sigh heavily. You’ve been working on these papers for a couple of hours now and, even though you were tired as hell, you were nowhere near done with your reports.

That’s why you hate messy missions, they always got out of control and you have to spend nearly a whole day trying to make any sense of what had happened. Unless, of course, those messy missions were accompanied by Natasha, she was always thorough on her reports and always did yours for you.

This time, you weren’t lucky enough to have her as your partner. You sighed after a particular moment where things didn’t add up, you wanted to sugarcoat the whole thing but now it seemed impossible.

“Why don’t you ask your partner to help you with the report?” Natasha’s voice filled the room and you turned your chair to look at her. She was sporting that small smile that could mean anything, from flirting to mockery. You could never know.

“I was sent alone for this one.” You spoke lowly, everybody knew why they sent you alone to missions like that, you just never understood the reason why they wanted the reports, if they already knew the results. Mission accomplished, no survivors.

And Natasha didn’t need to be a spy to know what those tasks meant, she winced. Your mood always came back sour after those. She cleared her throat and smiled again at you. “You got mail. Should I take it to your room?” She asks, gesturing to a couple of boxes and letters in her arms. You simply nod and she leaves you alone again.

By the time you’ve finish with the files, your head bangs with a headache and you think that maybe a hot shower wouldn’t hurt. Imagine your surprise when you arrive at your room and you see Natasha there as well.

You frown and look around to double check if your tired feet led you to the wrong direction. “What are you doing here?” You ask after your eyes spotted your belongings everywhere, you were indeed in your own room.

“Hm, you always get moody when you go alone, don’t you?” She counters and you mutter an apology for your snap, and she just shrugs her shoulders. She doesn’t really care, and you know it. You stare at her for a while longer and inform her that you’re heading to the shower, but you stopped in your tracks when her voice reached your ears.

“Was that an invitation for me to join you?” Her smirk graced her lips and you snorted in response. Ah there she was, always flirtatious trying to lift the mood. She grinned at you and pointed to the mail on your desk. “There’s an awful lot of mail, want me to help with the boxes?”

“Sure.” You reply and close your bathroom door. You let the hot water sooth your muscles and wash your worries and your victim’s screams away.

You’re relishing in the warmth provided by the shower, but when you step out of your door, the warmth that flush your cheeks red has nothing to do with it. Seated on the edge of your bed was Natasha Romanoff holding, more so analyzing, a purple fake cock as if it were the first time she saw one.

“Oh. You’re back.” She states, still holding the sex toy completely unfazed by your presence.

As if her voice breaks the stupor that the image in front of you pulled you in, you finally find your voice. “What are you doing?” You’ve found your voice but not the strength to take a single step from where you were glued on the floor.

“I opened your mail.” She shows you the strap in her hands as if it were a stuffed bear and not a very personal item. “And this was in it.” Then, she adds with a malicious smirk. “Did you buy it to play with your girlfriend?”

You sighed; you knew you couldn’t avoid the subject no matter how hard you try. “I did.” You say and finally move to your wardrobe, looking for your clothes. “But she’s not my girlfriend anymore, so this won’t be put into use anytime soon.”

“What happened to Daisy?” Her brows were raised in surprise, and you shrugged. “She realized she wanted someone else, I guess.” You mutter, going through your drawer until you pick the shirt you wanted.

“That’s unfortunate.” Despite her choice of word, her voice delivered that she was smiling and to her that was not unfortunate, not in the slightest.

“I’m glad I’m here for you to mock me.” You try to sound offended, but the sarcasm does not bother her.

“I’m not mocking you. I see this as an opportunity.” She speaks with hints of something you can’t quite grasp. You dart your eyes to where she is, and saw her leaning back on your bed, using her elbows for support.

You approach your desk to seat on your chair and turn to face her. “Hm. Do you?” It was undeniably unnerving to have Natasha laying on your bed, looking at you the way she did while you were all too aware of the toy laid by her side.

For a full moment, she didn’t respond. She kept herself still, looking at you as if pondering what her next move should be. You could see that, even though she was sporting a smirk, her gears were turning on her head.

The air was knocked out of your lungs when she spoke again. “I’d love to play with you.” Now, her lips contorted into a devilish smirk and for the second time this night, your cheeks flushed red because of her.

You shook your head, trying to gather your thoughts. “Natasha, I don’t think this is appropriate.” You protested, though your voice seemed weaker than intended. The truth is, you and Natasha had a past.

Before Daisy, you and Natasha had an agreement and, although your attempts of having something else with the redhead, you two would warm each other’s beds with no feelings involved.

The sex was amazing, but after a while you wanted more. You wanted a connection, you wanted to be allowed to feel, and since this was not something that the Black Widow was ready for, you called off said agreement.

That’s when you met Daisy. But apparently, the love fairy godmother didn’t bless you enough and your now ex-girlfriend found her love in another person’s arms.

You’re brought back from your head by Natasha’s movement. As if awakened from a slumber, your eyes focused on her form walking towards you, swaying her hips more than usual, until she stopped right in front of you and leans into your personal space, hands on your thighs to hold her head leveled to yours.

“I know you love the way I ride it.” She whispered and you stare at her in silence, long enough for her to see this as an opening. Maybe with the right words, your resolve would tumble down, and she knew you like the palm of her hand.

“We could use a remember of how good I sit in your lap…” Her hot breath on your ear was a low blow. “… on your strap.” She punctuates her sentence by biting your earlobe lightly, knowing full well what this would do to you.

Natasha remembers too well how good you used to fuck when your mood was dark like tonight, so this was a temptation that she could not pass. She knew about your breakup before you told her, she’s been giving you some time to process things, for she definitely wanted a revival of the things you made her feel.

Your hands grip her hips harshly, eyes locked on hers and she waited, lips parted, already anticipating what your next move would be. “I’m not going to get easy on you, Romanoff.” You warned her and her lips twitched in a smile that told you that she was aware of that, and it was precisely what she wanted.

Without waiting for another response other than her smile, you pulled her into your lap and, as if in sync, she wrapped her legs around your waist, leaving no space between you. One hand moved to the back of her head and after entangling itself of her locks, you brought her into you for a searing kiss.

Truth be told, Natasha was more than just an amazing sex to you and to be honest, you loved the way she let you channel your anger through her body. With Natasha, you didn’t have to sugarcoat yourself or your truth.

As for Natasha, she didn’t care how much damaged or fucked up you were, as long as you keep kissing her the way you do.

You tugged her hair, two degrees past gently, and she moaned when you attacked her neck with open mouthed kisses. While your lips covered every part of her skin, your hands roamed through her legs, back, ass, breasts, everything at the same time.

Without breaking the kiss, your fingers moved the zipper of her sweatshirt and to your surprise, she was only on her bra under, no shirts. “Hm. You came prepared, don’t you?” Your voice was muffled by her skin, but you knew she’d listen.

In no time, her bra was on the floor and her breasts were a sight to see when they came free. Her nipples were beautifully hard as if forestalling the inevitable touch of your lips. You wetted them just for good measure before leaning in, hands on her back for support, you connected your eyes with hers one last time before connecting your lips on her hardened peaks.

Natasha moaned instantly, the sensation of your tongue swirling around her nipples while the other hand groped the other boob was divine. With every whirl of your tongue, her moans were getting louder and that was like music to your ears.

Wordlessly, she tugged your shirt and added to the crescent pool of discarded clothes on the floor, soon followed by your bra. Natasha pulled away just enough for her to look at you properly, to admire your form and you took this as an opportunity to move from the chair to your bed.

The second you got up to your feet, you attached your lips onto hers once more. The intensity of your kiss made her feel lightheaded, as you cross the few steps between the chair and your destiny.

You lower yourself enough to deposit her onto the mattress and your hands immediately work her jeans off, showing her how much eager you were to see her fully naked under your body.

“Not fair, don’t you think?” She rasped out, nodding towards your sweatpants and when you start to fumble with your waistband, her hands stop yours. “Let me.” Without breaking eye contact, she untied the laces of your pant, then lowered it down slowly. Oh how she loved your thighs.

You used the space between her legs to support one knee while your hands on her shoulders pushed her down hard on her back. That insanely sexy smirk was back on when she saw you preparing the harness on your hips.

Lips parted, eyes darting to your face and back to your fingers, Natasha couldn’t decide which view was better. She realized she stared at your toy far too long, for you brought her eyes back to yours by placing a finger under her chin.

“Why don’t you be a good girl and prepare it for me, huh?” Your eyes were hard and cold, a stark contrast with the fake warmth voice you used to speak. Without waiting a response, you pulled away from your bed and seated again on your chair. The view of Natasha on her knees was something that you couldn’t get enough of and surely you wouldn’t let this opportunity to pass.

She watched as you leaned back on the chair and held the strap by its shaft and lazily started to jerk it off. Such movement was hypnotizing, and her legs started to move towards you as if on their own accord. “Kneel.” You demanded.

Before kneeling, her hands went to the waistband of her lacy panties, but your voice stopped her. “Leave it. I wanna see how ruined you are when you finish.” The power of your gaze was a command on their own and Natasha obliged. She lowered to her knees and used her hands to spread your knees for her to nest between your legs, all the while keeping eye contact.

You’ve been eye fucking her the second you pushed her onto your lap and Natasha loved the way you could make her core throb with a single look. This look. She could feel her panties soaked already and that was driving her crazy, the longer she waited for you to ruin her, the wetter she became.

She replaced your hand on the toy with her own and jerked it a few times as if letting her hand to analyze its size. For the first time in a while, she broke eye contact with you and lowered her face. At first, you thought she’d tease it with her tongue, run it from the base to the tip as she always liked, but then she dived headfirst onto the fake cock.

“Fucking hungry to have me fucking you, aren’t you?” You spoke, grabbing a handful of her hair and forcing her head up and down a bit faster than she was before. Her gags were the only response you’d get, and you were content with it.

The sight of her bobbing her head on your lap was indescribable, made you feel powerful and that always made your core to throb. You tightened the grip on her hair just for a few seconds then you loosened completely. “Come, it’s time for your show.”

Natasha didn’t have to be told twice, her mouth left the strap immediately, the sight of a spit still connected to her lips showed you how much effort she put in the so-called preparation. She sat on your lap; strap nested on her stomach while you devoured her mouth with your own once more.

Her muffled moans were driving you insane and when your fingers lightly ran through the fabric of her panties, you moaned loudly. This woman would be the ruin of you. You pressed your fingers a bit harder on her core and you felt her trying to grind on them, desperate for more friction.

You tore her cloth apart, too eager to have her completely naked and she didn’t have in her to argue, every single action made her even more desperate to satisfy her desire. Her thoughts were broken by her own moans when your hands started to move her hips and she felt herself riding your tight. The friction was maddening and not enough all together.

“Please. This is torture.” She panted on your ear, trying to concentrate on her own movements as if she could get more pleasure than she really was. You chuckled darkly and let go of her hips and she took this as invitation to do what she was dying to the second she laid her eyes on the sex toy earlier that night.

You held the toy up and Natasha aligned herself with it, hands on your shoulder for support and, for the hundredth time, she locked eyes with you. After a second of preparation, Natasha started to lower herself into the strap. Slowly.

Inch after inch, her face contorted with pleasure as the strap stretched her out and the sinful moans scaping her throat were heavenly to you. She took a full moment, letting her walls to adjust to the shaft’s size while your hands caressed her tights lightly, giving her the time she needed.

Then, Natasha started to move on your lap. Slowly at first, biting her lip sexily, but by the time your hands, once on her tights, found her ass and squeezed them hard, the redhead started to ride your fake cock just the way she had promised and oh if she wasn’t a pro in doing so.

Natasha rode with everything she had in her, she rode showing you how much she longed for your touch. And you reveled on the noises of her wet pussy slamming against your cock, flesh slapping flesh and every single sound coming from her mouth lulled into a bliss that had you closing your eyes.

A harsh tug on your hair forced your eyes to snap open again. “I want you to watch the show, babe.” She gasped among moans that were getting louder and louder, soon replaced by her screams of your name when you started to rock your hips into her, providing a new sensation to the already overpowering pleasure building in her stomach.

She came undone, hard. And you were just getting started.

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