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gerrifields · 1 year ago

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✧.* FLOUR N COOKIES.

— summary : when baking cookies with natasha turns into a flour fight.

— word count : 0,6k

— warnings : fluff, fem!reader, established relationship, nat & reader live together, flour fights, pet names, nat being a tease.

a/n : it's october so the autumn-y fics r here !! also i am a firm believer that nat struggles to do basic cooking.

baking was something you've always loved to do, since ever. you loved the process of buying the ingredients, picking the flavours, toppings, decorations, everything.

you especially loved baking for other people. it's your way of showing that you love and care for them, a love language sort of.

and it's always been a tradition for you to bake fall cookies for your friends. today, you were baking them for clint.

it was the perfect time to bake. the weather was perfect, it was foggy but not too foggy since you could still see the reflection of sunlight. the music was playing in the background, and nothing could possibly ruin this you thought.

tying your apron, natasha walks in to help.

"you look good in that apron." she smirks.

you ignore the comment as you grab the eggs from the fridge. "stay focused, we need to finish these cookies."

"well, i'm more or so thinking that you should wear that apron more often." she teases. "these cookies are for clint. realistically, you should be taking the lead." you reply.

"i've never baked before."

"ever? in your entire life? not even once?"

"i'm pretty sure that's what the word never means." — "do you at least know how to crack open an egg?"

you were met with silence. is she serious?

"just crack these eggs to that bowl, please." you point. "like this?" she asks.

you stare at her in disbelief. she seems confused, possibly wondering what she did wrong.

"you know, maybe, without, the eggshells."

she looks down at the bowl, "i think we should leave it. crunchy cookies, you know? it adds more protein, so it's healthy." she awkwardly smiles.

"whatever, i'll just pick the eggshells out." you carefully grab the slippery shells.

"soooo.. what's next?" she wipes the egg residue on her pants. "i'll whisk the wet ingredients, you can help me by grabbing the flour and baking soda."

natasha nods, as she grabs the ingredients you asked for from the cabinets above. "you know i've always wanted to do this with someone." she says, toying with the bag of flour.

"yeah well, this feels more like a me effort instead of a team effort." you state. "there's no me in team." natasha replies.

"yes there is. there's an 'e' and an 'm'." you stated.

"you're so smart, detka. keep blabbering. see what happens."

was that a threat? you look up from the bowl to see her grab a handful of flour. "put that down. don't get closer." you commanded.

"or what?" — "or the cookies won't get done, and clint will have over-floured cookies."

natasha shuffles forward.

"nat. i swear. i just cleaned the floor this morning."

"i'm not even moving."

"i can see you shuffling towards me."

"i'm standing very still. actually, here, catch!" she throws the flour to you. your clean apron was now covered in flour.

"oh you are so gonna regret that, natasha."

you swiftly grab a handful of flour from the bag, throwing it right on her black top.

natasha gasps, before throwing another handful to your direction.

this went on for a good minute before natasha finally stopped it by grabbing the bag from you.

"okay, okay! time out. i've got to take a picture of you, you look like a ghost!"

"really? because you should really look in the mirror, natasha. i can barely make out the red in your hair right now."

she glances at the reflection of the fridge. "that's. rude."

"who looks like a ghost now?"

"you still do. if i poured the mixture on you with chocolate chips and put you in the oven, would you become a cookie?" she jokes.

"don't you dare mess with the mixture."

"don't worry, love. i'd still love you if you were a cookie." natasha smiles.

#fic recs

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gerrifields · 2 years ago

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Vienna Waits For You

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warning: smut, mommy kink, a loving smack on the cheek (lol), strap on, and idk

Summary: While away from home, you come across a closed off and reserved woman at the bar and she decides she happens to enjoy your company.

A/N: another re upload I promise I’m working on a new one 😭

The rain fell against the window panes, Natasha watching them as she asks for another drink. She can faintly feel a presence beside her as she turns to look at the mysterious stranger.

There you stand with a gentle smile, “rough night?” you asked, glancing toward the empty glass. She chooses to ignore you as she waits for the bartender to refill her glass. You slide down onto the seat next to her.

“Don’t you have better things to do,” she scoffs as she finally turns to face you. Natasha watches as you pretend to act hurt, a sad expression on your face, a hand clutching your heart.

“Ouch,” you mock but lean further, leaning on your palms, “can’t we just pass the time together,” you grin. You watch with a frown as the woman turns once again, watching the raindrops on the window.

“There are plenty of other people to pass the time with,” she says, briefly glancing at the others in the bar. She brings the glass back, drinking it straight without so much as a flinch. You watch in fascination as she sets the glass down.

“Straight vodka, huh? Impressive.” you mutter, grinning at her. She sighs but chooses to ignore you as she picks at the peanuts in the basket left on the counter. You both sit in silence for a while, realizing that the woman clearly had something going on.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you eventually ask, with a genuine expression on your face. Natasha turns, surprised by your sudden change in demeanor. She appreciates the genuine concern and interest you have as she merely says,

“Divorce.”

You let out a hum, acknowledging her words, or word, as you observe her smeared mascara and tousled hair. Her red hair is tied up into a braid that looks slightly disheveled. You give her a few moments of needed silence, now feeling guilty for pestering her at such a time.

Natasha watches as you go to stand, “I’m so sorry for bothering you; I had no idea,” you started, nervously rubbing your neck. While the redhead was enjoying her peace, there was a sort of comfort in your presence. Suppose she simply didn’t want to be alone.

“Wait,” she calls out with a sigh as you freeze in place. “Sit down,” she says, pointing to the seat you were sitting on. You watch with a curious brow before hesitantly sitting back down.

The woman doesn’t say anything for a while and simply listens to your drumming on the counter. “I enjoy your company,” she says finally after some time. It catches you by surprise as your drumming abruptly stops.

“Oh,” you try to play it cool, but Natasha can hear the slight excitement in your voice. Your drumming continues but is more upbeat instead of the monotone one you played earlier. Natasha watches you as you do, wondering what was so special about you.

“What’s your name?” she asks, bringing her hands forward, completely disregarding her empty glass. Your eyes widen when you realize she’s talking to you. You’re fairly impressed by how well this woman can hold her vodka.

“Y/N,” you say, watching curiously as the woman leans on her palms watching you, “and you are?” you prompt.

“Natasha.”

Natasha doesn’t move from her spot, and neither do you. Eventually, she asks, “what are you doing here in Vienna, Y/N?” she asks, trying out your name. While Natasha didn’t go out much, she’s never seen you here before.

“Visiting my family,” you say as you wave down the bartender, ordering a simple gin and tonic. You watch as the bartender prepares your drink, actively avoiding the redheads piercing gaze. She hums before leaning back.

Natasha stands from her seat, reveling in the way you immediately glance up at her. The way you stare up at her with your doe eyes makes her feel weak. “You’re leaving?” you’re quick to ask, practically pleading with her to stay.

“You can come with me if you want,” she says, and it’s the first time in the night that you see her grin.

You know you shouldn’t: you just met this woman a few hours ago. Yet her delighted gaze and faint smirk are so alluring. Her lustful eyes bore into you as you gulp down the rest of your drink. You go to stand when the woman leans in to whisper, “I’ve got a special toy we could use,” she grins.

Your breath hitches at the feel of her so close; you can feel her breathing on your skin, goosebumps arising on your skin. “Let’s call a cab,” you mutter.

Natasha chuckles at your flushed state but agrees with a nod. She’s quick to pull out her phone, briefly calling the cab company before turning back to you. “Shall we?” she grins.

Your frantic nods have the other woman pulling on your hand, dragging you outside the bar. You’re pushed up against the brick wall with a breathy whimper. The woman’s lips ghost the skin on your neck before she leans back to admire you with a twinkle in her eye.

The drizzle of rain falls upon the both of you as Natasha mutters, “God, you’re so pretty,” and she closes the gap between you. She takes your lip in her mouth as you chase after her lips, hand coming up to the back of her neck. You bring her closer as Natasha clutches your hips in her hand.

The redhead pulls back with a grin and goes to nip at your neck but is interrupted by the beep of a car. She groans but ultimately turns to the interruption, “looks like our cabs here,” she says.

Natasha pulls you along and into the cab, essentially pushing you inside. She turns to the driver, telling him the address before turning back to you with a grin. She closes the gap between you, hands coming up to cup your face as she pushes you uncomfortably against the car door.

The driver clears his throat, obviously awkward about the act of affection behind him, yet Natasha pays him no mind. Instead, she opts to deepen the kiss and place gentle kisses on your neck afterward.

“Natasha,” you sigh as the woman nips at your neck, scattering bruises you know you’ll have to cover tomorrow. You glance towards the driver, who’s trying to subtly watch you through the mirror. “Natasha,” you try again.

She groans but eventually sits back in her seat, glancing toward you as she places a hand on your thigh. Her thumb rubs circles into the seam of your pants as the rest of the car drive is silent. The woman’s leg bounces impatiently, muttering a “finally” when she notices we’ve arrived.

Natasha pulls out some cash from her pocket, handing it to the driver before pulling you by the hand out of the car. She’s quick to lead you into the small home and the bedroom. The woman grins as she pushes you onto the bed.

She straddles your hips leaning down to whisper, “I’m gonna teach you some manners, okay?” she chuckles. The redhead leans down to bring your lips together, nipping at your lip. Her hands move upwards to your chest cupping you through your shirt.

“Please do,” you whine when she pulls away. Natasha chuckles at your desperation. She slides her hands down to the bottom of your shirt as she glances up at you for confirmation. Your frantic nod makes her grin as she brings the shirt over your head, swiftly unclipping your lace bra.

Natasha leans back to admire you once again before diving down to take a hardened nub into her mouth, hand coming up to toy with the other one. You arch into her touch, whining lowly for more, which the woman doesn’t allow.

She pulls back with a raised brow, “what do you want, baby? Come on, tell mommy what you want,” she mocks as she watches your eyes widen. The redhead grins at your flustered expression.

You gulp before looking up at the redhead with those doe eyes of yours, “please,” you start a little hesitant, “mommy, please fuck me.” You watch as a smile forms on the woman’s face as she leans back down towards you.

“Since you asked so nicely,” she grins as she closes the gap between you, pulling back with a pop. The redhead scatters kisses across your chest, eventually arriving at your waistband. Once again, she glances up to see your nod.

Natasha slides your pants off, eyes twinkling in delight at the wet patch on your panties. “is this all for me?” she grins. Her fingertips come up to press lightly against your clit, enough to get you whining for more.

“Just for you, mommy—only you,” you whine. You’d say anything to get her to touch you. Your hips subtly buck up towards her touch, but the redhead catches on. She tuts before pulling away, pulling off her clothing,

“you’re gonna have to earn it, sweetheart,” she says, already hovering over your face. “Make me feel good,” she mutters as she slides down onto your face, groaning at the feel of you against her cunt.

You’re quick to get to work, desperate for the woman’s touch. Her hips buck against you, briefly depriving you of oxygen, but you don’t mind. “Right there,” she moans, head falling back. You can tell she’s close by the urgency in which she rides your face, clutching at your hair.

Natasha falls over the edge when you suck her clit into your mouth, a guttural moan tumbling out her lips. Her thrusts slow and she eventually climbs off of you, closing the gap between you as she tastes herself on your tongue.

When she pulls back, you’re quick to mumble, “please, mommy, please touch me.” The redhead chuckles breathlessly at your desperation. She straddles your lap and brings her head down to nip at your neck.

“God, I love it when you beg,” she mutters. Natasha’s kisses make their way down your stomach, meeting your drenched panties. She grins slyly at the effect she has on you. She slides them off, mumbling about their uselessness now.

The redhead ducks her head to attach her mouth to your dripping cunt with a groan. She doesn’t relent, desperate to get you to cum. She revels in the moans and begs falling out of your mouth.

Natasha’s hands come up to clutch at your hips, pinning them down to the bed. She knows you’re close by the way your knuckles turn white from gripping the sheets. The woman taps against your hips allowing you to finally fall over the edge.

She doesn’t let up until you’re thrashing around, begging her to stop, “please, I can't,” you whimper, trying to push her away. Natasha reluctantly pulls away, wiping at her face with a grin.

She walks away, and you think you’re finally given a break, laying against the bed, trying to catch your breath before she comes back. Yet you’re left breathless when she comes back, strap-on attached to her hips, “Oh my,” you mutter.

“I told you I had a toy we could use,” she grins as she climbs over you, strap laying against your stomach. “You want mommy’s cock, detka?” she asks with a teasing smile.

The unfamiliar language makes your cheeks heat up, but nod at her words. “Please,” you whine, hips bucking up against her. You can feel her faint touch against your cheek as she coos at you. Her fingers probe at your mouth, sliding in when you part your lips.

Natasha watches, mesmerized by your gaze, looking up at her. She slides her digits out, moving them down to stroke her strap. “You wanna suck mommy’s cock, baby?” she asks as she moves upwards to sit beside your head.

Your desperate nods make her smile as she slides her strap down your throat, your gags simply spurring her on. Her double-ended strap hits the right spot as her thrusts get more frantic. “Just like that,” she groans, grasping onto your hair.

Her body stiffens, hips twitching into your throat as you gag around her strap. Natasha lets out a groan before pulling out, causing you to cough and try to regain your breath. She hovers over you before muttering, “gonna fill you up with my cock, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” she mocks, “you want mommy to fuck your slutty hole?”

Your pathetic whimpers aren’t enough for her as her palm collides with your cheek, whipping your head to the side. While unexpected, the shot of arousal it sent down to your core was unmistakable.

“Say it.”

You gulp at the woman’s intimidating gaze, “please, mommy, use me, fuck my slutty pussy,” you beg, too far gone to be ashamed. You watch as Natasha smiles at you before sliding her strap in your dripping cunt.

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it,” she coos, slowly filling you with her strap. She listens with delight to your whines, occasionally shushing you, “you’re doing so well for me, baby,” she’d mumble.

Natasha's thrusts are slow, almost too slow, as she observes the expression on your face. When your face contorts into pleasure, she speeds up, cooing, “there you go.”

“Oh god,” you moan as her thrusting gets rougher, faster. You cling onto her back, hips jerking to meet her thrusts. Your nails leave marks down her back as she grunts against you. Natasha’s thrusts become frantic, the end of her strap hitting just right.

“oh god, I’m gonna cum,” you cry out, legs encircling her waist. The new angle allows her to thrust deeper, hitting that particular spot inside you repeatedly. One of her hands comes up to strike your cheek, head falling to the side once again.

“Not yet,” she insists, her grunting getting louder, “you’ll cum when I do,” she mutters.

You’re clutching onto Natasha with all your might as you try to not fall over the edge with her rough thrusts. “Please,” you repeat over and over again, willing to do anything for a release.

“Go on,” is all she says as her body goes rigid, twitching against you. You don’t hesitate to let go, head falling back, lips parted. Natasha slows her thrusts, trying to prolong your and her orgasm.

She pulls out, pulling off the harness, wincing as she pulls out her end of the strap. She falls beside you, panting, “holy fuck,” she mutters. You turn to her with a blissful grin.

The woman gets up briefly to come back with a towel as she washes you off, leaving gentle kisses on your skin. Quickly she’s back in bed beside you.

“We should do this again,” you grin as she chuckles breathlessly beside you. The woman simply nods with a smile before turning to you and opening her arms for you to slide into.

You lean against her with a peaceful smile, eyes fluttering as you feel the gentle touch of her lips upon your forehead.

—

In the morning, Natasha wakes up to an empty bed. She glances around for any sign of you, but you’re nowhere to be found. Her faint frown quickly turns into a grin as she spots the note beside her bed.

You must’ve left sometime in the early morning, and the only reminder left of you was the messily scribbled number and the “call me ;)” above it, leaving a smile on Natasha’s face.

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