romugh

[romugh]

this deserves to be reblogged on main tbh

No thoughts only the eager desire to make out with a girl's pussy and have her juices and my spit sloppily drip down my chin

[romugh]

incorrect agatha all along comics (2)

[romugh]

Hey. Hey you. The person aimlessly scrolling, stuck in an immobilized standoff with your brain

It's not your fault. You won't be stuck forever. I know you're trying. I know you hate it. It's ok.

And tell the Mean Voice in your head that it's not helping. It knows as well as you do that you would get up and Just Start the task if you could. You're not doing this on purpose.

Take a deep breath. Relax your jaw. I see you trying so hard to break out of it, but you can't force it. You'll get Unstuck eventually. All you can do in the interim is be kind to yourself.

[romugh]

I didn't know we could request WIP teasers! Could you share anything from the clone pt2 story?

i'm not entirely sure if this is the opening i'll keep, but here's what i have for now! :)

[romugh]

[romugh]

oh dear lord

The Madness In Me

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: You and Natasha get infected with an alien aphrodisiac that is supposed to induce heat cycles in many species. How will you both cope with this issue? (We all know how)

WARNINGS: SEX POLLEN, enthusiastic consent, drug-induced sex, masturbation, fingering (N!receiving) pussy eating, (r!receiving), violent sex, mutual pining, confessions of love, reader is described as agoraphobic (fear of being in unsafe, unfamiliar environments), no use of y/n

WORD COUNT: 6.1K

This was why you never left the fucking compound. This was the exact reason that you never left when Natasha asked you to come with her somewhere. You told Steve to leave you alone, made aggressive backhanded comments to Rocket, even threw things at Rhodey when he asked for an extra set of hands in the field.

You were an office person. Your job was to keep paperwork in order, make calls, and… do office shit! You weren’t meant for the field, you had no desire to explore the outside world, and you certainly weren’t created for literal space. But everybody was indisposed with other assignments and only you and Natasha were around to help Nebula with something in space.

It should have been a simple task: collect data of the tremors on the planet, run scans, and return the data back to the compound where you could ship off the readings to Carol, wherever she was out in space. The atmosphere was breathable, but lower gravity than Earth so your footsteps were heavier and you felt less balanced.

Natasha was trying not to smirk as you looked so out of your element here, kneeling into mystery colored dirt and plunging several spikes into the ground to pick up the tremor readings. You were trying to ignore her, looking forward to curling up in your bed tonight and forgetting about the terror you felt when passing through the jump point.

“Not meant for space, Nat,” You mumbled, connecting the sensor to the wires and waiting for it to turn green. Natasha knelt down next to you and gently nudged you with her arm. “I’m serious, I want to go home like, now.”

“Do you ever stop complaining?” Natasha rolled her eyes. You looked up and tried not to stare at the way her red roots were starting to overtake the blonde on her head. “We are in literal space, and you can’t stand it.”

“Maybe I’ve got minimal agoraphobia, who knows,” You sighed, running your hands through the dirt under your knees and seeing the sensor start to blink an aggressive yellow color. “Fuck sake, what now?”

“You placed the sensors incorrectly,” Nebula’s voice spoke through the comm on your chest and you flinched. “Do you need any assistance? The diagram was clearly marked—”

“No, I’ve got it Nebula,” You turned off the comm and sighed, pulling out the left most sensor and readjusting the probe so you could properly plunge it into the dirt. “God, why does she always sound disappointed in me?”

“That’s just her voice,” Natasha wiggled one of the sensors, trying to get it exactly like the diagram. She was focused on her task, and you were focused on yours… So focused that you didn’t notice your comm blinking angrily. Nebula was trying to tell you something, but you were ignoring the comm, just simply thinking that she was trying to boss you around again.

…If only you had listened to her.

Nebula was trying to warn you about the pocket of liquid your sensor was far too close to. The pressure under the surface of the dirt was high, and you pierced it just right. That was the cause of the tremors, alright. 

In mere seconds, both you and Natasha were knocked down into the dirt, covered in a translucent red liquid that was far stickier than you were comfortable with. It went up your nose, down your throat, every single part of you was drenched in the fucking substance that felt like it was humming with life. Natasha was just the same, rolling over on her side and coughing aggressively in order to get the liquid free from her throat.

Your entire body hurt, and you looked up at the ship just in time to see Nebula running down the ramp of the spacecraft and approaching you and Natasha. She scowled, looking down at you and crossing her arms. “I tried to tell you to be careful.”

“Next time,” You coughed, spitting out the goop and standing off the ground. Natasha stood up with you, flicking her hands out and trying so hard to get the substance off her body but it was clear that the only way it was coming off was with a high-pressure shower. “Next time, I’m fucking staying home.”

It didn’t take long for the ship to return to Earth. But in that time, you felt like your skin was literally on fire. The heat under your clothes was almost unbearable and you practically stumbled out of the ship towards the compound where you were finding a bathroom and stripping off your sticky garments immediately.

Natasha must have been feeling the same because her face was red, not because of that sticky liquid, and was almost ripping at her shirt as she went to a separate room to take her own shower.

Your clothes sat in a pile on the floor as you stepped into the coldest shower ever, sighing with relief as the heat began to dissipate and you washed away the sticky mess that was the mystery planet gunk staining your skin. It left a red tint behind on your skin that you hated, but at least the feeling of rolling around in glue was gone.

Hands slid across your skin as you tried to make this last, basking in the cold. Your fingers trailed over your belly and then down lower, pausing and feeling your face heat up with embarrassment. There was a residual part of your body that was radiating a painful heat… and not only heat. You turned off the water to your shower and looked down, seeing your arousal literally dripping down your legs.

“What the…” You shuddered, your stomach twisting as you grabbed a towel and began drying your body off. The towel rubbed all over your skin, hands shaking like crazy as you dried your hair and then dragged the fabric between your legs. The contact against your cunt was enough to make you cry out in agony, legs shaking and knees buckling as you hit the ground and curled up. “F-f-fuck…”

This was bad. But who could you even call for this? Who could help you? This had to be a medical issue, right? This wasn’t like your ovulation week or anything, this was nearly unnatural. You’d never been so aroused and wet in your damn life.

“Friday,” You mumbled out loud to the AI that watched over the compound. If Tony could see you now, he would be laughing his ass off. “W-What’s wrong with me?”

“Just a moment,” Friday said, and you could assume she was scanning you. “Internal body temperature is 101 degrees Fahrenheit, and heart rate is 120 resting… Should I call for a medic?”

“No,” You mumbled, standing off the ground and reaching for the robe off the back of the bathroom door, sliding it over your sweaty skin and plopping onto the bathroom floor. “No, this is too embarrassing… Get Nebula, please Friday. She’s from space, she should know what’s wrong with me.”

“I have alerted Nebula. Are you alright, miss?”

“M’fine Friday,” You sighed, pulling your legs to your chest and trying to ignore the ache between your legs… was this happening to Natasha too? Oh, you shouldn’t have thought about that. The thought of Natasha Romanoff in the same state as you, on the ground with her arousal dripping down her thighs… You pulled your hand away from where it was circling your clit at an agonizing rate.

Muscles burning, heart rate through the roof, skin crawling, stomach churning… You were in agony when Nebula came in as you were laying on the floor in nothing but the bathrobe. Sweat dripped from your face as you looked up just in time to get face-to-face with a furry creature that a long time ago would have freaked you out, but you knew Rocket when you saw him.

“The hell did I miss out on?” He looked up at Nebula who scowled before grabbing you by the arms and lifting you off the floor like you didn’t weigh a damn thing to her. Cyborg muscles, you assumed… It was comforting. Her synthetic hands were cold in comparison to your burning hot skin, and you leaned against her touch despite her seemingly indifferent to your affection.

“What’s wrong with me, Rocket?” You sobbed as Nebula sat you down on the counter while the raccoon jumped on the surface next to you and sniffed your body. The scent of the ooze still lingered on your skin, and residue was left behind in a red tint in your hair.

Rocket immediately began laughing. “Just a guess, but smells like a very damn strong dose of pohlavívan sludge.”

“In English, dammit—”

“It’s a chemical used in making stimulants to induce heats for a lot of species in the galaxy… and a very potent aphrodisiac that is sold in some alcohol on Hasbinth V,” Rocket explained as he grabbed at your face and moved your hair away.

Your pupils were dilated and just from your scent alone, Rocket knew what the problem was without a doubt. “Girl, you are horny out of your frickin’ mind—”

“WHAT?!” You shrieked, jumping up and wrapping your arms around your stomach. “I was drugged? Are you k—No, no, no, there’s an antidote, right? There’s always an antidote for—”

“Sorry sweetheart,” Rocket shook his furry head, much to your embarrassment and dismay. “Nothin’ to do but wait ‘til it stops.”

When you glanced at his crewmate, Nebula seemed to look at you with… pity? Either that, or she was uncomfortable just being in your presence. You gulped, asking the question that you didn’t want to ask. “How long?”

“Heat cycles for most species last a week… but humies don’t get them so maybe a few days less than that?” Rocket was in thought, or perhaps he was enjoying your agony far too much as you groaned and pushed your legs together and sunk down on your knees again.

If he said something else, you didn’t hear him. The only thing on your mind was the unbearable throb between your thighs and how you just wanted to touch yourself until the pain ceased finally… But apparently, you had days for this. And Nebula’s last words before she left with Rocket were the worst things you could hear. “It’s going to get worse. We’ll figure out a quarantine situation for you soon… Rocket, we need to check on Natasha; she got hit with the sludge as well.”

“Are you kidding?!” Rocket started laughing. “The assassin and the girl afraid of going outside get doused with liquid sex on the one day I’m busy? I’m not missing anything ever again.”

How could it possibly get worse?

Worse. Worse, worse, so much fucking worse.

It had only been a day for you into quarantine and you felt like you were going to rip your hair out! Your skin was crawling, your face was burning, and you simply stopped wearing anything below the waist because it would just get soaked in seconds from how bad your cunt was dripping… It was humiliating. You felt like a dog in heat.

With every spare second you had, you were touching yourself. Any thought you had was perverse, and you couldn’t stop yourself from having vulgar desires about literally every single woman within your life. You drooled over your memories with Wanda Maximoff before she disappeared into dust and how her touch always felt electric for you. Thoughts of Nebula and her cold stare as she held you down that one time was addicting.

Carol Danvers came to mind and you imagined the being of the cosmos fucking you mercilessly like the beast she was and it had you sobbing as you rutted against the bedsheets that were soaked with your juices, and your sweat.

But the thing that did it for you? Natasha… Oh, the beautiful and sweet Natasha Romanoff… The woman who was suffering just as you were on the other side of the fifth floor where you two were being kept. The thought that she was rubbing herself down on her bed or plunging her fingers into her cunt as well was the thought that had you cumming several times over.

Tears streaked your face as you bit down on your bottom lip and humped at your pillow like some sad fucking desperate teenager. Your clit was rubbed raw at this point, and your cunt was pulsing painfully, but you couldn’t stop. Every time you came, you felt a momentary reprieve of bliss and the shivers would stop, before it came right back and the cycle started all over again.

The only way you got to sleep was with the injections that Rocket brought to you. Nebula was expecting you to have adverse reactions to him when he entered your room, but you seemed to be less than indifferent to his presence. In fact, it was like that with every man that entered your room.

Steve had gone to check on you, and Rocket warned him that you were basically feral and wanted to fuck anything with a pulse, but not him. You looked up at Steve and sobbed before burying yourself under the blankets and hiding.

The opposite was the case when Nebula first entered your room after the symptoms got worse. You knew that once this was all over, you could never look at her the same after you had almost jumped on top of her.

It was the fever talking… and acting… and—Fuck, your own touch wasn’t as helpful as it was before. As the hours dragged on, you felt like your hands were going numb and your heart was practically breaking with how much pain you felt. It was with shaky hands that you reached for the injection on the table next to your ruined bed and jabbed the large needle into your leg.

A small trickle of blood oozed from the puncture wound as you injected the mixture of sedatives into your body and you felt the relief of sleep slowly approaching. The last thing you did was put the used needle down into the incinerator trash can before passing out in your mess. The syringes on your table were labeled with a single word. “SNOW”.

You were happy to rest your burning body, closing your eyes and immediately passing out, drooling on your mattress with the pillow nestled between your thighs. As the hours carried on, your scent just got stronger. You were unconscious for quite some time, but it turns out, someone else couldn’t sleep at all.

Your scent was too strong. It was driving her fucking insane. She couldn’t control herself even if she wanted to. In mere moments, the poor ex-assassin was crawling into your bed, and she didn’t care if you were asleep; she was eating your pussy.

Natasha grabbed at your body and turned you over on your back, pulling the pillow out from between your legs and practically drooling over how your wetness was sticking to the fabric before she bent down and put her entire mouth over your cunt like it was all she needed to survive.

You didn’t react for a good long while. The sedative mixture in the syringes were heavy duty stuff, and for almost forty minutes, Natasha was simply indulging herself on you like you were the most decadent snack she’s ever had and she just couldn’t get enough.

With one hand, she reached down and pressed her fingers against her clit, groaning against you as you squirmed in your sleep slightly, clearly stirring awake after the assassin’s tongue was attacking your cunt for over half an hour. She was basking in your taste, your juices smearing on her mouth and dripping onto the wet bed sheets as she dug her fingernails into your left thigh.

The pain woke you first. The way her nails bit into your skin had you squeaking in pain as you sat up and looked to see what was the culprit. And then the pleasure hit you. Holy fuck did the pleasure hit you. It was completely different from you touching yourself; Natasha was so good. She was so fucking good at this that you felt yourself close to cumming already.

“N-N-Nat!” You stuttered, a loss for words. Natasha looked up through her blonde hair messily splayed all over her damp, sweaty face as she refused to let up. Her tongue pressed flat against your hole and slowly pushed it in. The noise you made was guttural and savage. “Fuuuuuhuuuck!”

Natasha didn’t stop even for a second. In fact, her own hand abandoned her pussy and she forgot about her own pleasure for a moment, the thought of your release in her mouth taking over her entire being. Her green irises were almost overtaken by her blown out pupils. She had tunnel vision. You were at the end. And she ignored the ache in her jaw as she felt your thighs tremble in her hands.

You met her fiery gaze and she saw a small string of drool drip from your lips and she latched her lips around your clit, sucking and making your eyes roll all the way back in your head. That was your final stretch.

Your body arched off the bed and you let out a shriek of euphoria, reaching down and grabbing at her short blonde hair, fingers curling in Natasha’s locks as she felt your taste flood over her tongue. She was in heaven. You had never seen Natasha like this before, and you were upset that it had taken this long for her to eat your pussy like she was a woman starved.

The trembles of your climax began to slowly wear off as you panted, heart racing as you saw Natasha slowly sit up from the bed, your arousal dripping from her lips and her hair a downright mess. She smelled so good, and looked even better. Her skin was glistening as she collapsed on top of you, her arms caging you into the mattress. 

“What are you doing to me?” Natasha panted, but there was no bite in her voice. The tone of her commanding words had your knees weakening again as you reached up and tangled your fingers in her hair. 

“What you do to me,” You said, leaning up a little as you teased the assassin with the promise of a kiss. Your lips were centimeters apart as her mouth hovered and she pressed a single kiss to your nose. Both of you couldn’t stop your heavy breaths as she saw how your eyes were just as dilated, knowing that this was the sludge forcing her hands… And yet, this feels so, so right. 

“Pretty girl,” Natasha teased, her tongue licking at your bottom lip as you whimpered, your knee slipping between her legs and pressing up against her core. The sound she made was enough to have you climbing the walls. The teasing was over as you reached for the back of her neck and pulled her down. 

It was unlike you to feel dominant in your life… Your short list of lovers could attest to that; you were always the submissive type in the relationship. And yet, the aphrodisiac working in your body was screaming to take control. Fingers twitched as you fought your natural instincts for the ones forced into your brain by the drug. 

The kiss was broken when your hands dug into Natasha’s ass, nails biting her skin as she gasped and looked into your eyes. Her heart pounded in her ears as she rolled her hips, grinding her slicked pussy down against your thigh. 

“Y-You know,” You panted, guiding her hips into your leg and shivering at how warm her cunt was on your skin. You wanted nothing more than to fuck the assassin senseless. “This is… j-just that sludge, right?” 

Natasha laughed, tossing her head back for a second as her sweat dripped off her nose. “Is it though, sweetheart?”

You stopped. Your body seemed to shudder all over as you rested both hands on her hips. “Nat, what are you–”

“Later,” She begged, her fingers sliding across your body and pausing to grip at your breasts, squeezing and kneading at the flesh enough for your eyes to roll back in your head. “We’ll talk later… Right now, I need you.” 

How could you say no to that? 

Your fingers grabbed the back of her thighs and in seconds, Natasha was on her back on the bed with you grabbing at her wrists, holding them above her head into the pillow. That beautiful blonde hair with the red roots peeking through was splayed across your sheets. Her skin was glistening with sweat, chest rising and falling rapidly with every hard breath she took. 

Natasha Romanoff was the most beautiful woman you have ever seen in your entire life. 

“Fuck,” You said. You couldn’t think of anything else to say. You dropped down and your lips pressed into hers, hands releasing her wrists as they curled into the bedsheets and you put your knee right back to where it was before. 

Natasha whimpered, her hips bucking up to meet your leg as it felt like shocks going all over her body. In her normal state, this friction wouldn’t have been enough to get her off, but with the drug making everything more sensitive, Natasha swore she could cum just like this. But you weren’t satisfied with it. 

Your right hand slid down from the sheets, caressing over her body and raking your nails over her flat abdomen before sneaking between her legs. The kiss broke as she spread her thighs apart for your fingers. When they came in contact with her cunt, Natasha let out the most unhinged noise of pleasure you’ve ever heard in your entire life. 

You wanted to hear more. Your fingers circled around her clit and Natasha bit her lip, something in her fighting the noises she wanted to make. You weren’t having it as you bent down and kissed the woman’s neck. 

“Come on, Widow,” You teased, your fingers rubbing at her in tight circles and making her even wetter, if that was at all possible because she was already dripping. “Walls are soundproof… Give me all you’ve got.” 

When your teeth sunk into her neck and you slipped your middle finger into her slick pussy, Natasha was past holding herself back. Her entire spine arched off the bed and she gasped, her eyes rolling back and her body reacting to your touch in the most delicious way possible. 

She was so sexy, so fearless, so everything you admired in a woman and now all of your infatuation for the audacious assassin was coming to a point. You had always loved Natasha, and now you were able to show her. You could actually show her how you felt. Without the sludge drug going through your body, you would never have the confidence to even touch this woman, let alone kiss her. 

Things between you two had always been flirty, even before the attack that wiped out half of the universe. Natasha would walk by your office and smile at you, and you would blush before going back to your job. Maybe you would see her outside of your office when she was walking with Steve or Sam. She could smell your shampoo when you walked by and the smell of vanilla was always one of her favorites. 

She liked your fearlessness, even if you were simply afraid of field work. You took the job with the stipulation that you wouldn’t have to do field work, and your place would be behind a desk forever. And then, half of the organization vanished. Your work was forced to change and you didn’t have a choice but to sign your new contract and adapt. 

Much to Natasha’s pleasure, you were more active outside of your office. And there were many times when you would go with her outside of the compound… And then you went to space. You and her went to space. Natasha and you went into outer space, got hit with pohlavívan sludge, and now because of one off-world assignment, you two were about to fuck like rabbits in heat. 

The Widow looked down, watching your wrist flex as you pushed another finger into her cunt and she saw stars behind her eyes, her inner walls squeezing your digits and making you pant with pleasure. It was like you could feel what she was feeling, your heart skipping beats as the scent of her arousal was flooding your senses and clouding everything you once knew.

“Ohmygod,” Natasha cried out. Her eyes were watering as she held the sheets, lifting up her right leg and resting her calf on your shoulder. A growl left your throat as you doubled down and started moving your fingers faster, stretching her around them and feeling her warmth and wetness soak you from the wrist down. “Fuck, fuck that’s it… D-Don’t stop…”

“Never,” You whispered, leaning down and pressing your nose against her cheek. Her moans and whines drowned your senses, encouraging your movements. 

The blonde couldn’t hold it back even if she tried. Never before has she been able to cum so quickly before. Her eyes crossed and rolled all the way back in her head as she reached up for your shoulders and dug her nails in, screaming with blistering gratification. You gave a breathy laugh before it faded into a groan, feeling her nails scrape across your back. 

Natasha created a puddle under her, staining the mattress and ruining the sheets even more than you could have done on your own. You gasped, resting your head against her shoulder as you breathed her in, basking in her aftershocks and gently rubbing at her clit with your thumb as you continued to stroke her inner walls with your fingertips.

The moment carried on for at least a minute before both of you were snapped out of your stupor at a soft beeping sound. 

“What the hell is–” Natasha said, looking around the room for a second before her question was answered. 

“Warning, heart rate levels dangerously high,” FRIDAY spoke over the intercom in your room, a blush turning your entire face red. “Wounds detected. Shall I call for assistance, miss?” 

“No!!” Both you and Natasha screamed, silencing the AI in the walls instantly. You never wanted anybody to see Natasha the way you are seeing her right now. Very carefully, your fingers slipped free from her cunt and she gasped, her nose going into your neck as she wrapped both arms around you and whimpered. 

“Shhh… Shhh, I got you, Nat,” You cooed sweetly, not really sure where this confidence came from. Was it actually the drug making you like this, or were you always capable of this deep down? “Just breathe baby, that’s it… Just breathe for me…”

Natasha’s heart calmed down gradually. You waited patiently for her to pull back away from your shoulder and when she did, you smiled, pushing her blonde hair away from her eyes and seeing that her climax had given both of you a momentary reprise from the stupid aphrodisiac that would be taking effect again in no time. 

“There you are,” You said, rubbing your thumb over her cheek. “You okay,mílaja?”

Natasha blushed at you speaking Russian, chuckling as she reached up with both hands and held your cheeks. “Never better, detka.” 

You rubbed your nose against hers teasingly as a shiver raced down your spine, feeling an odd sensation of wetness on your back. You reached over your shoulder and felt something warm and wet coat your fingertips. When you pulled them back, blood coated your fingertips. Damn, she cut pretty deep huh?

“Jesus,” You cursed, raising a brow as Natasha frowned and immediately began to fuss at the wound she caused. When she managed to wiggle out from underneath you, she saw the lines from her fingernails going down your back and a small amount of blood trickled from the wounds and streaked your skin. 

“M’sorry,” Natasha leaned down and gently kissed your shoulder, wishing she could have held it together and not have caused you harm. “We should… we should get cleaned up, huh?” 

“Yeah,” You agreed, slowly crawling off of the mattress and cursing at how wet the sheets and fabric were under your hands. “We… really fucked this bed up.”

“Don’t worry,” Natasha smirked, reaching for your hand and pulling your body against her own. Your spine pressed into her chest as she leaned forward, her lips ghosting on the shell of your ear and making you shiver. “There’s lots of other places in your room we can ruin too… We’ve got nothing but time.”

It was like her words reactivated the arousal in you. The momentary reprieve ended as your pupils widened and overtook your eyes again as you leaned into her hands, grabbing at her ass from behind you and breathing heavily. “Shower?” 

“Shower. Now.” 

The two days continued just like this. You two couldn’t keep your hands off of each other the entire time. The sludge had made it so your stamina was nearly limitless and you could continue without needing a breather or a break. Natasha was resilient and strong, and she was able to handle anything you threw at her. 

True to her words, you two fucked on every single surface of the room. The showers, the bathroom sink, the kitchen sink, the bed, the floors, the couch, the reclining chair, even in the closet. The room reeked of sex and it felt like you could never get enough of Natasha grinding against your face. 

Your favorite thing quickly became eating her out while she was standing up. You liked how her knees would wobble as she got close and she had to grab the surface she was leaning against in order to not collapse on the floor. 

Natasha found her favorite position. She loved sliding her own slicked cunt against yours, juices mixing together as she held you down and fucked herself against you like it was her fucking birthright. You made the cutest sounds when she dominated and she couldn’t get enough of it. 

With both of you breathing in that small window of clarity after another earth shattering orgasm, Natasha reached for the remaining two syringes on the nightstand, offering one to you as she panted and tears streaked her face. 

“Need to stop,” Natasha panted, ripping the cover off the needle as she looked in your eyes and inserted the sedative into her arm. You nodded quickly, following her and injecting yourself with the SNOW. She used the last of her strength to incinerate the used needles before collapsing next to you on the floor, legs tangled in the wet blankets as your body curled around her own.

 It was ten full hours later before both of you woke up. Sunlight streaked through the window as you slowly began to blink, attempting to wake up and come back to reality. For a second, you felt fine… and then it all hit you at once. 

Your head was pounding. It felt like a hangover times ten. Your entire body was sore and screaming, muscles aching and your stomach growling with ferocity as you rolled over and pushed your entire face into the wet pillow behind your head. 

“Fuck,” You cursed, wanting it to stop already. It wasn’t until you heard a similar groan that you opened your eyes and saw Natasha looking just as ragged as you, if not worse. Deep, dark circles were under her eyes. Her hair was a total mess, and her neck was littered with bruises and bite marks. You flushed, remembering that you were the one to leave those marks. 

“Goddammit,” Natasha groaned, rolling onto her side as she faced you and rubbed her whole hand across her face. It wasn’t until you saw her eyes that the realization set in… The drug was out of your system. Her irises were normal. She wasn’t trying to jump you the second you woke up. 

You two were fine now… Oh shit, you two were fine now… You two fucked nonstop for three days!

“FRIDAY,” You said, voice hoarse and cracking. “Are we okay?” 

A second passed before a beep went off. “All traces of pohlavívan sludge have been removed from your systems. Vital signs, stable.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief as you flopped on the ground and reached out for Natasha’s hand. To your surprise, she didn’t refuse your touch. In fact, she scooted closer and pressed her forehead against yours, breathing you in like your presence could cure her aches and pains. 

“Are you okay?” She asked, reaching out with her other hand and pushing your hair out of your eyes. You smiled, nodding a little as you lifted up her hand and kissed over her knuckles. The moment was sweet and you were happy to live in it. 

“We uhm,” You swallowed hard. “Should we… talk about this or…”

Natasha rolled her eyes before she leaned forward and captured your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. Your eyes widened. This was way different than before. There was no drug working through your systems to force your hands; Natasha was kissing you and meaning it this time. You melted and returned the kiss, resting a hand on her cheek and relaxing visibly. 

When the kiss broke, the assassin smiled warmly and rubbed her thumb across your cheekbone. “I love you… and this isn’t the drug talking this time, detka… I really love you.”

You thought you were going to cry. “I love you too, Natasha… Fuck, I love you so much it’s sickening.” 

She rolled her eyes before scooting even closer and wrapping her arms around your body and shoving her entire face into your chest. You both reeked and were covered in sweat and cum, but you still couldn’t stop touching each other no matter what…

It was a sweet moment. 

And then the door opened and you reacted on instinct. Without a second thought, you were grabbing at the bedsheet and wrapping it around yourself and Natasha who looked up and saw two people entering the bedroom, and a much shorter, furrier creature slipping between the other two to approach both of you on the floor. 

“Steve, you could fuckin’ knock you know!” You shouted at Captain America who immediately looked away from the scene and tried to hide the redness on his cheeks. 

Rocket ran on all fours towards you as he looked at your eyes and sniffed your skin. “Drug’s completely dissolved. I’m impressed humie… Didn’t think you’d make it through this shit.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Natasha said in an accusatory tone as Nebula stepped around the mess of the room, seeing that you used all of the sedative syringes and blew through the water supply that would normally last a normal human a week, but it barely lasted three days with you and Natasha.

“Lesser humans would not have been able to keep up with the sludge working through their systems,” Nebula spoke. “Many that have ingested the substance did not survive. Their hearts stopped.” 

“And you didn’t think to tell us this earlier?!” You wrapped protective arms around Natasha as the thought of her heart stopping made you so uncomfortable that you felt your skin crawling and your heart racing. “We could have died!” 

“But ya didn’t,” Rocket said, that smug little grin making you scowl. “Both of you are fine. Got through it just fine and now you’ve both had the wildest sex of your lives.” 

“That’s enough,” Steve pushed the door open, keeping his eyes away from both of you. “Let’s give them privacy and a chance to clean up. Come on.”

When the room cleared out, you shared a single look with Natasha before both of you started laughing. So all of this could have been fatal. And the damn raccoon (not that he would admit to being that), had no intentions of telling either of you. And he just let you two fuck senselessly for days because, what, it was funny? 

And deep down… it kind of was funny. 

Both you and Natasha were forced to wear turtlenecks for a few days to cover the hickeys left behind. Steve couldn’t look at either of you without blushing. 

[romugh]

Romie, i'm gonna follow Nat's steps and jump off a cliff bc I need to study and my brain isn't cooperating😭

-☘️

we're going hand in hand !!!

(you've got this!!!!)

[romugh]

I miss widow lace

me too LOL

i swear it's coming out soon!!!! promiseeee!!!

let's say next week? <3 :p

[romugh]

updated (only a lil bit... whoopsies!)

romugh's masterlist

‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚ natasha romanoff

-- intimate studies -- history in the making nerd!gp!natty x fem!reader

-- in her reflection -- in her projection nerd!natty x fem!reader

-- running in circles (kt '24) avenger!natty x fem!medic!reader

-- sweet on the tip of my tongue (kt '24) avenger!natty x venom!reader

-- buttoned up, let loose (kt '24) nerd!virgin!natty x gp!reader

-- two of a kind (kt '24) avenger!natty x fem!scarletwitch!avenger!reader

-- crimson desires (kt '24) avenger!natty x fem!villain!reader

-- freckles and constellations prof!natasha romanoff ˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚ I. suddenly, the star i studied was you prof!natty x student!gp!reader II. tba °- teacher's pet? no, student's pet! °- orion's belt in the sky

-- sensual series 'nerd'!avenger!natasha romanoff ˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚ I. sensual unraveling avenger!gp!natty x fem!reader II. sensual frequenties (kt '24)

-- nerdy!nat headcanons I. spanking

｡⋆��⸜˚ barbara sugarman

-- cinematic seduction (kt '24) canon!barbs x fem!reader

°📽✧˚ ༘ scarlett johansson

-- fictional desires

-- she's on the floor rolling her eyes at me (kt '24)

[romugh]

thank you for the love on this <3

appreciate all of you!

HISTORY IN THE MAKING - nerd!NR

pairing- nerd!natasha romanoff x reader

cw- 18+!!; top!reader, gp!bottom!natasha, handjob (n rcv), blowie (n rcv), missionary, praise kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie? muaha... shy daddy!nat UGHH, kind of orgasm control & slight edging if you squint

wc- 5.4k

a/n- drabble turned fic as i worked my way through these exact history shenanigans a few days back... in the same INTIMATE STUDIES universe! might make this a cute lil thing :) this is very much NOT my best work, i might rework it a little bit just to make it flow a lil more! apologies if there are any repetitions, i tried to catch them, but my brain is fried :/

synopsis- natasha's helping you study russia's history, and the rest is history?? idk it's too late rn guys i'm going to sleep

taglist- @lost-mortemanghel ♥︎, @idkwhatever580, @elliecoochieeater, @left-and-right-up-and-down, @deadlesbianwitches, @lizziewitchy ❀, @simpforlizzie, @riyaexee

You’re sitting cross-legged on Natasha’s bed, staring down at a jumble of Russian history notes that you’re certain might as well be in Cyrillic themselves. The words swim on the page, stubbornly refusing to click in the way chemistry formulas or physics equations do. You press the back of your pen to your lips, glancing over at the figure hunched over the desk in the corner of the room.

Natasha is fully engrossed in her game, brows furrowed in concentration as her fingers fly across the keyboard. The light from her monitor casts a soft glow on her face, highlighting the curve of her cheek and the gentle bite of her lower lip. She’s wearing a simple white blouse tucked into a plaid skirt, her usual attempt to dress professionally for class long since abandoned in favour of cosy socks and a messy bun.

You can’t help but smile a little. The contrast between Natasha’s outward shyness and the intensity in her focus has always been something you found endearing. You met in the class you were currently trying to study for, back when you’d shown up late to Russian history, fumbling through an awkward introduction as the professor sighed and directed you to sit in the last free seat beside her. It had taken a few study sessions for you to get past her initial stammering, but now, you could ask her about anything and her eyes would light up, eagerly launching into whatever story or fact you were struggling to understand. But right now, that focus is directed entirely on her computer screen.

You clear your throat. “Natasha?”

“Hm?” She barely looks up, eyes quickly darting back to her screen.

“Nat,” you repeat, with a hint of a smile. “I need help with the comparison of Russia until 1917 and the West-European’s Ancien Régime. And… pretty much all the details, too.”

She gives a little sigh, half-distracted. “Mm. Yes, the parables are… very interesting, baby. Give me one second. I’m doing really well.”

You hold back a laugh. “Right, but I’m failing Russian history. Melina and Alexei will both kill me. So can you take a break?”

Her eyes don’t leave the screen. “I will, I promise. Just a few more minutes. I’m close to beating this level.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at her single-minded dedication. Her stubborn innocence, the way she always seems to be pulled between her gentle nature and her intense focus, has you mesmerised. But she can’t honestly think you’re going to wait forever.

“Natasha,” you say softly, standing and crossing over to her desk. Her gaze flicks up to you on her side, her big, doe-like eyes widening with an almost bashful look as you lean against the desk. “You’re seriously not going to help me?”

She blushes, biting her lip. “I really want to help,” she whispers, almost apologetic, “but, really, just a little longer? Please?”

There’s something about the sweet innocence of her pleading that has your heart racing. Her earnestness always has a way of drawing you in, those wide, round eyes like they’re begging for permission to keep playing, and her lips slightly parted in concentration. You tilt your head, taking in every detail of her—the slight blush dusting her cheeks, the faint glimmer of anticipation in her eyes, and the way her fingers clutch the keyboard just a little tighter, like she’s holding onto the game but secretly hoping you’ll take control.

You smile softly and reach for her chair, turning it around so she’s facing you. Her hands hover in the air, a brief look of panic on her face as she loses her place in the game. She opens her mouth to protest, but before she can say anything, you’re sliding onto her lap, straddling her, feeling the warmth of her strong thighs under you.

“Wait! You made me fall off the map!” Natasha squeaks, her voice a mixture of exasperation and a hint of excitement. Her hands instinctively find your hips, holding you as if she’s afraid you might slip away.

You give her a gentle smile, leaning in so that your faces are mere inches apart. “I thought you were going to help me study,” you murmur, your voice dropping to a soft, coaxing tone. You press your hands to her shoulders, letting your fingers trail along her collarbone, feeling the way her heartbeat quickens under your touch.

“I… I was,” she stammers, her cheeks flushing a deep pink, and you catch the slight tremble in her voice. “I just… my game.”

You tilt her chin up, making her meet your gaze, and she blushes even deeper, her fingers tightening their grip on your hips as her eyes grow wide, almost vulnerable. “Natty,” you say, your voice laced with playful patience, “I really need you to focus on me now. History, please.”

Her mouth opens slightly, as though she wants to argue, but all that comes out is a breathy whisper. “Okay.”

You hold Natasha’s gaze, the intensity in her eyes gradually overpowering her initial shyness. Her fingers rest on your hips, hesitant and yet possessive, as though she’s still trying to find some control in this position. Her breath catches each time you shift even slightly, and you can feel her heartbeat racing beneath your touch, each little change in her demeanour making her even more endearing.

You run your thumb along her jawline, feeling the delicate skin beneath, and she lets out a soft breath, her lips parting as she unconsciously leans into your touch. Her eyes flicker from yours to your lips, as if she’s desperately waiting for some kind of signal, a sign that she’s allowed to give in completely.

“Natasha,” you murmur, bringing your face close enough to feel her breath mingling with yours, “what are the key similarities, and how do the t<o regimes differ?”

She hums, her cheeks a soft shade of pink, but words seem to fail her. The hand on your hip trembles slightly, as though she wants to pull you closer but doesn’t dare to, not without permission. You feel the tension building, a mix of her nervousness and desire, and it only makes you want to pull her in even more.

Finally, you press a feather-light kiss to her cheek, just next to her ear, and whisper, “Come on, Natty. Think, please. Need your pretty self to explain it to me.”

She shivers under your touch, swallowing as she tries to remember the words. “Um… right, the… they didn’t have religious freedom,” she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper. The fingers on your hip dig in just slightly, a mix of nerves and need as she fights to keep her focus. “Orthodoxy– uh, there were lots of violent riots… against Muslims, but mostly Jews. Those were called pogroms and… oh…”

Her wordds trail off as you tilt her chin slightly, pressing another soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. Her blush deepens, and you feel the way her body responds, her tension giving way to a faint tremor as she tries to keep talking.

“You’re so good at this,” you whisper, guiding her with gentle encouragement. “But I’m going to need a little more focus from you if we’re going to get through all this history.”

Her breath catches, and she nods, biting her lip as she tries to concentrate. “I can focus,” she whispers, more to herself than to you, as though she’s trying to convince herself as much as you. Her gaze stays locked onto yours, her wide eyes full of innocence mixed with a yearning she can’t quite hide.

Her fingers finally slide up your sides, settling on the dip of your waist with a delicate grip, as though she’s terrified of doing too much, yet completely unwilling to let go. You smile softly, placing a hand over hers, squeezing in silent encouragement, and her blush deepens, her eyes darting away for just a second.

But you don’t let her break eye contact for long. Tilting her chin back to you, you brush your lips over hers in a kiss so soft it’s barely there, and she lets out a faint sigh, melting into the touch. Her grip tightens again, and you feel her breath hitch as you deepen the kiss just slightly, enough to make her toes curl beneath her chair.

“Tell me more,” you murmur, pausing just inches from her mouth, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating between you. “About the razzias. I want to hear you explain it.”

Her lips part, her mind clearly racing to catch up, but she manages a shaky breath. “They just were um, a…,” she stammers, her voice a mix of strained focus and barely-restrained excitement. Her hands start to relax, as though she’s finding confidence in your guidance. “They… uh– it’s a reckoning against religious ideals.”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum in approval, your thumb tracing gentle circles on her cheek. “And then the revolution happened?”

Her eyes flicker down to your lips, and she swallows, her voice barely more than a whisper. “There were two revolutions, technically. First, the February Revolution, and then the radicalised October Revolution.”

Her words start to blur into soft breaths as you lean closer, the warmth of her skin against yours heightening with each delicate touch. You feel her legs shift under you, and a soft gasp escapes her when you shift your weight in her lap, pressing yourself against her in a way that’s both innocent and electric. Her lashes flutter, and her eyes grow hazy, the careful focus she was trying to hold onto slipping with each passing second.

“Good girl,” you murmur, your voice soft and affectionate. Her lips part in a faint, breathless smile, and you feel her chest rise as she takes in a shaky breath, her grip on you tightening just a little more.

You tilt her head back, keeping her gaze locked on yours, letting your fingers trail down her throat, feeling the rapid thrum of her pulse beneath your touch. Her eyes widen, a mixture of awe and anticipation in them as she watches your every move, her hands moving under your sweater like she’s trying to ground herself.

“Do you want to keep going?” you ask softly, running a finger along her jawline, watching the way her breath catches in response.

She nods, unable to find words, her cheeks flushed a deep pink. Her eyes hold that same innocent, almost pleading look, as though she’s begging you to take control, to guide her wherever you want.

You smile, letting your hand drift down from her jaw, fingers grazing along her collarbone, before you slowly trail down to her chest and stomach, where you can feel the rise and fall of her shallow breaths.

“Okay, baby,” you murmur, your words soothing yet commanding as you press a gentle kiss to her neck, feeling the way her pulse quickens under your lips. She shivers, a barely audible whimper escaping her lips, her wide eyes softening as she watches you, her gaze full of innocent trust.

“Natasha,” you whisper, drawing out her name like a gentle caress, “let me help you focus.” Her breath catches, and she gives a shaky nod, her hands tightening their grip on the chair. You slowly lower yourself from her lap, letting your hands slide down the smooth skin of her thighs, feeling the way her body tenses under your touch only to relax as you continue, inching her knees apart.

Her blush deepens, and you can feel her shyness mingling with anticipation as her skirt rides up, revealing the growing hardness pressing against the fabric of her boxers. You let your fingers trace along her inner thigh, watching the way she trembles slightly at each delicate touch. Her wide eyes remain fixed on yours, that blend of vulnerability and desire making your own heart race as you take her in.

“Relax for me,” you murmur, running your hands gently along her thighs. You reach up to brush your fingers over the fabric straining to hold her in, and her lips part in a soft, involuntary moan, her cheeks flushing even deeper as she squirms in her seat.

With slow, deliberate movements, you slide her underwear down, watching the way her member springs free, her blush turning crimson as she looks away for a moment, a mixture of nervousness and excitement flickering across her face. You press a gentle kiss along her inner thigh, easing her legs further apart and taking in her reactions, savouring each shiver, each small gasp that escapes her lips. When you move your mouth closer to her length, you look up at her, waiting until her gaze meets yours.

Once it does, you bring your mouth to her, pressing a feather-light kiss along her shaft, and her reaction is instant—her hips jerk slightly, and she lets out a trembling breath, her fingers clutching the arms of her chair as she tries to stay still. Her breath hitches with every movement, her wide eyes looking down at you, filled with both awe and that same sweet shyness that makes her all the more endearing.

Slowly, you take her into your mouth, your tongue gliding over her, humming at the way she gasps, her fingers gripping the chair so tightly her knuckles turn white. You can feel her body tense under your touch, the warmth of her length in your mouth, and the way she squirms with each gentle movement. Her breathing becomes ragged, her cheeks flushed as her lashes flutter, struggling to keep eye contact.

“Just relax, Natty,” you murmur between gentle caresses, pausing only to offer soft words of encouragement, letting her feel the warmth of your breath against her sensitive skin. “You’re doing so well.”

Her eyes soften further at your words, her lips parted in a soft, breathless smile as she gives a faint nod, her entire body melting under your touch. She lets out a quiet, shaky moan as you continue, her hips shifting involuntarily, her breath hitching each time your mouth moves a little deeper. The look in her eyes—vulnerable yet trusting—only fuels your desire to take her further.

You increase your pace just slightly, watching the way her eyes grow hazier with each passing second, her fingers now reaching out, finding your shoulder as if she needs something to hold onto. The desperation in her gaze, the slight whimpers that escape her lips, all signal how close she’s getting. You pause, pulling back just enough to look up at her, watching the way she struggles to catch her breath.

“You’re so good, Natasha,” you murmur, words muffled by her heat in you, enjoying the way she shivers under the praise. “But don’t let go just yet. I want to take my time with you.”

Her blush deepens at the command, and she nods, swallowing hard as she holds back, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tries to control herself. You press a soft kiss to her length, smiling at the way she bites her lip, her fingers still clutching your shoulder as she gives herself over to your touch.

With her breaths growing more ragged, you let your hand slide down her thigh, resting at the base of her length as you ease back, switching from the warmth of your mouth to the gentle grip of your hand. Natasha whimpers softly, her lashes fluttering as she watches you with that wide-eyed, innocent gaze. Her hands grip the arms of her chair for stability, her cheeks flushed and lips parted as you begin to stroke her slowly, savouring each reaction.

“Does that feel good, Natty?” you murmur, watching the way her eyes flutter closed for a moment as she nods, her entire body leaning toward your touch.

“Yes,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with a need she’s struggling to hold back. You watch the way her chest rises and falls, each shuddering breath making her more vulnerable, more open to your every move.

You increase the pressure slightly, your hand moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm that has her toes curling, her wide eyes looking down at you with unguarded adoration. You can see how close she is, her face a mix of tension and awe as she clutches at her chair, her mouth falling open in a soft gasp when you switch back to your mouth, taking her in once again.

“Please,” she whispers, her voice trembling, barely audible. She shifts in her seat, her grip tightening as she fights to stay composed, though the desperation in her voice betrays her.

“You want more?” you murmur, pulling back just enough to look up at her, letting your breath ghost over her sensitive skin. She nods frantically, her gaze pleading, as though she’s ready to beg for you to keep going. Her vulnerability makes your heart race, and you lean back in, pressing soft, lingering kisses along her length before taking her in your hand again.

Each change between your mouth and hand drives her closer to that edge, her quiet, broken moans growing more frequent as her body responds to your every touch. You take your time, alternating between gentle strokes and teasing kisses, watching the way her resolve unravels completely. Her hips move instinctively, seeking more, her breath shallow and desperate.

Finally, you slow your pace, watching the way she shudders in response, her gaze hazy and her body fully at peace yet trembling in your hands. “I told you, Natty,” you whisper, pausing to press a kiss to her thigh, “I’m taking my time with you.”

She lets out a shaky exhale, her hands falling from the chair to clutch at your shoulders, her breathing still erratic as she tries to hold herself back. But you can see the way she’s teetering on that edge, fully surrendered to you.

As you continue to alternate between using your hand and mouth, her wide, vulnerable gaze grows more unfocused, her lips parting as her body instinctively responds to you. But just when you think she’s letting herself fall into your pace, you feel her fingers tangle in your hair, firm but trembling, gently pressing down, silently urging you to take her deeper.

The sudden assertiveness surprises you, but you comply, letting her guide you, feeling the way her grip tightens slightly, the desperation in her touch almost pleading. Her quiet whimpers grow louder, echoing in the room as she watches you, her gaze dark with fascination, completely enraptured by the sight of you surrendering to her need.

“Oh, please…” she murmurs, her voice a breathy whisper, barely containing herself. You feel her body shiver as you take her deeper, her soft gasp filling the air. Her eyes, usually so innocent and shy, are now dark with awe, wide and almost worshipful, as though she can barely believe what she’s seeing. She bites her lip, her face flushed, her expression somewhere between a plea and an apology, completely mesmerised by the sight of you.

Finally, feeling your control slip in her grasp, you tap her thigh, and she releases her grip on your hair immediately, looking down at you with that same innocent gaze, as if wondering if she’s overstepped. Her cheeks are flushed, her gaze shy once again, as she watches you with bated breath, clearly unsure of your next move.

Standing up slowly, you meet her gaze, your eyes smouldering as you reach down and slip off your underwear, letting the fabric fall to the floor before stepping out of it. Natasha’s eyes widen, her cheeks a deeper pink as her gaze travels from your face down the length of your body, lingering on the hem of your sweater as if transfixed by the contrast.

Before she can fully take in the sight, you reach for her, your fingers tangling in her hair as you tug her up from the chair, her body following your movements without hesitation. She gasps softly, her breath catching as she’s pulled to her feet, her wide, adoring eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“Strip for me,” you command, your voice low, leaving no room for argument. You release her hair, your touch lingering for just a second as you make your way to her bed, settling yourself atop her scattered history notes, the crinkling of the papers the only sound breaking the silence. She watches, her blush deepening, clearly entranced by the sight of you lying there, completely at ease and in control. Her hands go to the hem of her skirt, her fingers trembling slightly as she begins to undress, her gaze never leaving yours.

Natasha’s fingers tremble slightly as she slides off her skirt, letting it fall to the floor. Her shirt soon follows, revealing the flushed skin of her chest and the slight rise and fall of her breath as she finally stands in front of you, completely exposed and vulnerable. Her eyes flicker between your gaze and your body sprawled out over her history notes, her cheeks flushed with both shyness and desire. You stretch out comfortably, your sweater rucked up just enough to tease her, watching her with that same confident, hungry look that’s left her at your mercy all evening.

“Come here, Natty,” you murmur, your voice firm but soft. She steps forward, her movements hesitant but her gaze locked on you, and you guide her down onto the bed until she’s hovering over you, her body settling between your legs. Her breath catches as she takes you in, her wide, adoring eyes drinking in the sight of you beneath her, looking up at her with that unwavering, confident smile that’s made her melt all night.

As Natasha hovers above you, her body fitting perfectly between your legs, you can feel the nervous tremble in her limbs, her cheeks flushed as she takes in the sight of you lying beneath her, waiting. Her wide eyes, so shy and adoring, sweep over your face and then down, drinking in every inch of your body, as though each glance leaves her more entranced. Her lips part slightly, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she steadies herself, hands resting tentatively on either side of you.

You reach up, cupping her face in your hands and guiding her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, feeling the heat radiate off her skin. She melts into you, her body instinctively pressing down, filling the space between you as her lips respond, moving tenderly yet hungrily, every kiss leaving her more breathless. With a gentle nudge, you guide her hips forward, feeling her length brush against your entrance, and she lets out a soft, broken gasp, her face flushed a deep pink as she begins to press into you.

You hum, running your hands through her hair, tugging gently to pull her closer, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. She gasps against your mouth, her lips parting as you deepen the kiss, feeling her shiver as she responds, her body pressing eagerly into yours. She lets out a soft, desperate moan as she slides inside, her hands gripping the sheets beside you.

“Oh,” she murmurs, barely above a whisper, her eyes fluttering shut as she feels the warmth of your body surrounding her, enveloping her in a way that leaves her trembling. Her breath hitches, and she clutches the sheets beside you, her hands forming tight fists as she adjusts to the feeling, her gaze filled with wonder as she looks down at you.

“Good girl,” you whisper, watching the way her face softens at the praise, her body shuddering as she begins to move, her hips rolling forward in slow, tentative strokes. You feel each careful movement, each deliberate inch of her body pressing into yours, her lips parted in a quiet moan, her eyes half-lidded as she loses herself in the rhythm, her shy gaze growing more intense with each passing second.

With every thrust, her body trembles, her gaze filled with a raw vulnerability as though she’s giving herself to you completely, utterly. She clutches the sheets even tighter, her breathing quickening, her eyes never leaving yours as she moves deeper, her breath coming in soft, desperate pants.

“That’s it, Natty,” you murmur, running a hand along her cheek, feeling the way her breath catches at your touch. “Just like that.”

Her lips part in response, a soft whimper escaping her as her hips begin to move faster, her body pressing into yours with a growing urgency that she can barely control. She shivers, the need and intensity in her gaze building with every touch, every whispered word of encouragement. Her lashes flutter as she looks down at you, her cheeks a deep shade of pink, her expression vulnerable, almost pleading, as though she wants more but can barely bring herself to ask for it.

“Right there, Daddy,” you murmur, your voice soft, just loud enough for her to hear. The word slips from your lips easily, and you watch the way her entire being responds—the tremor in her hips, the widening of her eyes, the soft, desperate whine that falls from her lips. Her face and neck flush a deeper, unmistakable red, and for a moment, she looks at you with pure, unguarded awe, her expression caught between disbelief and overwhelming need.

Her hands tremble, her hips stuttering as she takes in the title, her body pressing instinctively deeper as though the sound alone draws her closer to the edge. “Daddy,” you whisper again, watching her face as she loses herself in the word, her expression filling with a blend of shyness and barely contained desire.

“P-please…” she stammers, her voice trembling, almost breaking as she holds herself back, her body trembling with the strain of it. “I… I need…”

You reach up, running your hand through her hair, guiding her gaze back to yours. “It’s okay, Natty,” you murmur, your voice soft, coaxing. “You don’t have to hold back.”

Her wide eyes fill with a deep, unrestrained need, and she lets out a soft, shaky exhale, her hands sliding from the sheets to grip your waist, holding you as though grounding herself. Her movements grow more erratic, her hips pressing deeper, her body responding to every encouraging word, every touch, as though completely under your control.

As she moves, you see the way she loses herself in each thrust, her face flushed, her mouth open as her breath comes in ragged, desperate pants. She looks down at you with that same innocent, adoring gaze, but now, there’s something more—something raw, a hunger she can barely contain. Her hips press forward, filling you completely, her body shuddering as she reaches the edge, her wide eyes pleading, searching your gaze for permission.

“Come for me, Daddy,” you whisper, your voice soft but firm, and you feel the way her body reacts, her grip tightening on your waist as she shudders, her hips jerking forward in a desperate, trembling thrust. Her eyes close as she gasps, her head falling forward as she loses herself completely, spilling into you with a soft, broken moan, her body pressing close, clinging to you as though she’s never felt anything so intense.

As Natasha trembles on top of you, her body pressed close, you feel every soft, shivering breath she takes, the weight of her against you as she finally lets go, spilling into you. Her head dips forward, eyes tightly shut, her lips parted in a quiet, desperate gasp as she comes, the warmth of her release filling you, a slow, deep pulse that seems to steal the breath from her lungs. Her grip tightens on your waist as if she’s clinging to you, grounding herself in the sensation, her face buried in the crook of your neck.

You can feel her chest rising and falling against you, her breaths ragged and shallow as she lets out a soft whimper, the vulnerability in her voice making your heart swell. Her hips press forward with each wave, as though she wants to be as close to you as possible, feeling every inch of her warmth, every pulse, spill into you, marking you in a way that’s both intimate and utterly consuming.

Each pulse of her release sends a shiver through her, her breathing shallow and uneven as she slowly comes down from the high, her eyes fluttering open, looking down at you with a dazed, awestruck expression. She looks at you with a mixture of gratitude and worship, her cheeks still flushed, her lips parted in a soft, blissful smile.

You brush a hand along her cheek, and she leans into your touch, closing her eyes as she takes a deep, steadying breath, her hands still holding you close, as though she can’t bear to let go.

“Natty,” you murmur, running your hands through her hair, guiding her face up to meet your gaze. Her eyes open slowly, her lashes fluttering as she looks at you, her gaze soft, overwhelmed, filled with a raw, unguarded adoration that she can’t hide. Her face is flushed, her lips slightly parted, her expression completely mesmerised as though she can barely believe you’re here, beneath her, accepting every bit of her.

A soft, blissful smile tugs at her lips, her hand moving up to gently cradle your face as she leans in, pressing a delicate, lingering kiss to your lips, her breaths still heavy, warm. She holds you like this, savouring the closeness, the feel of you wrapped around her, the warmth of her release settling within you.

Finally, she shifts, her forehead resting against yours, her eyes wide, her breath still uneven, as though she’s only just starting to come back to herself. She looks at you with a mixture of awe and disbelief, her fingers tracing your jawline softly, reverently.

“I… I didn’t mean to…” she stammers, her face flushing deeper, her shy gaze flicking away for a moment.

But you smile, reaching up to cup her face, bringing her gaze back to yours, your voice soft and reassuring. “Natty… it’s okay,” you murmur, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “I wanted this, too. I asked.”

She lets out a soft, relieved exhale, her body relaxing as she sinks into you, her arms wrapping around you, holding you as though afraid to let go. You feel her heartbeat gradually slow, her warmth enveloping you, her gaze still soft, full of that same innocent awe as she watches you, completely lost in the moment.

As Natasha catches her breath, her fingers lingering on your skin as though afraid to break the closeness between you, she finally shifts to pull out, a soft, satisfied sigh escaping her lips. She watches with wide, almost mesmerised eyes as your bodies separate, and her gaze drops to the way your mixed warmth slowly begins to spill out of you, the evidence of everything you’ve shared glistening in the low light.

Her lips part, her cheeks flushed as her gaze stays fixed, almost transfixed, and she can’t hide the blush that rises as she takes it all in. She’s caught somewhere between admiration and disbelief, her wide eyes drinking in every detail as though this might all disappear any second.

“Take a picture; it’ll last longer, Natty,” you tease, your smirk playful, voice soft, cutting through her daze. She looks up, startled, blinking as she registers your words. But after a second, she lets out a quiet, breathless laugh, her blush deepening as she reaches over to grab her phone, still trembling slightly from the intensity of the moment. She snaps a quick picture, her gaze flicking between the screen and you, clearly savouring every second. The reverence in her expression makes your heart skip, a feeling of pride filling you as you watch her.

Once she’s put the phone aside, she reaches over with a soft, sheepish smile, helping you sit up and adjust yourself. Her gaze softens, that shy, affectionate look taking over as she wraps her arms around you, holding you close, savouring the warmth that lingers between you both.

And then she glances at the bed, a small, nervous laugh escaping as she spots her carefully scattered history notes—now crinkled, a little rumpled, with more than a few slightly smudged edges. Without missing a beat, she moves to gather them, straightening the papers, her cheeks still a warm shade of pink as she moves to tidy up.

a/n- apologies if this is the worst piece i've written LOL i've been surviving on a few hours of sleep for the past few days- big thanks to jess for somehow helping me get through this, i'll let you keep your ps5. sigh. i'd still build a princess castle tho.

[romugh]

Rom, could we have a sneak peak of the dominance switch story? So excited for that one🥵

hornballs

[romugh]

Remember to take care of yourself, romie, take breaks and treat yourself bc why not?

-☘️

will do clovie !! you too :p

will treat myself when i deserve it����

[romugh]

You seem like such a flirty person, I love those

I can be, and usually am fs!

[romugh]

heyyy are you going to share all the wips? and update the post? and masterlist? no pressure, just wondering!!

good luck with your exams!

also, are you single? if so, actively looking?

:''))

i am going to share the ones i'm 100% sure i'll get done. i'm planning on updating all my nav posts sometime soon (maybe tonight actually, i keep putting ts off ugh), but i'll reblog them to share the news :p

thank you so much! you too? :D

& yes, although i'm not actively looking :)

[romugh]

What video games do You play? 😊

hi!! i play quite a few, although i haven't played some in a while! :)

right now, i'm mostly into MTG, LOL, valo, DBD and HSR.

i've got many more games tbh, but don't usually play them unless i've got friends to play with :)

[romugh]

Hello romew, will you post the rest of the kinktober fics despite it being over?

Hope you're having a good day :)

hi hi yes i will!!

might take some time, but i'll definitely get to them! :)

and thank you!!🤍 hope you have a sweet day as well, dear🫂

[romugh]

BBB

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Sergeant!Reader*

18+ only read at your own risk

Word count: 3248

Requested by anon: Hi i love your work..you don't have to do this request if you don't want.. i was kind of was wondering since we haven't heard from Sergeant Nat and reader. If we could hear from them? I was thinking since Nat is always the confident reassured one in that universe like maybe something happens where shes not sure where she stand with reader? Like jealous or maybe reader lets one of her military friends borrow her laptop and they use it to watch porn...and nat finds it and thinks its reader. And nat kind of loses her mind in a way that we havent seen. (Not like crazy but for the first time shes like am i enough). And reader is high key oblivious bc she worships nat. Some communication to sort out and then smutty times. Only if you want. If not i look forward to whatever you post yay. 

AN: *Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

Thanks for the idea, anon! This was a lot of fun to write. :)

This is Part 5 in my Sergeant Beef series. Read the first one here.

“Hey, can I borrow your laptop?” Sam asks, poking his head into your room. 

“Why?” You don’t even look at him, focused on you video game on the tiny television mounted to your wall.

“I dropped mine in the lake, so I had to buy a new one but it won’t get shipped off until later this week,” Sam explains. 

“Okay,” you say, hardly listening to him as you race your little car across the screen to bump the giant soccer ball towards the goal. “It’s in my room on the–”

“I know where it is. Thanks.” Sam whisks in and helps himself. 

“Close the door on your way out!” you call, just in time to hear the door slam behind him. Turning your whole focus back to your game, your fingers mash the buttons to a triumphant win.

***********************************************************************

A few days later, Natasha is over at your apartment. While the two of you had discussed a thousand times moving in together, you had always stalled or walked around the subject. Natasha wasn’t sure if it was because you were nervous what the public’s perception would be of your relationship, or if you preferred your own private space too much to give it up. Ever since the deployment, you had been more likely to retreat and hide away (even from Natasha) when you were upset or moody. She wondered if it was a side effect of your PTSD, but you never seemed ready for that conversation so she left it alone.

For dinner, you grilled some steaks (setting off the smoke detector in your apartment) while Natasha made a side of mashed potatoes and green beans. Afterwards, you went to take a shower while Natashas lounged around and found a movie on Netflix for the two of you to watch. She sits on the couch, opening your laptop and finding the web browser. She looks up Netflix and then browses through the recommendations on your home page, but none of them pique her interest.

She goes onto Google to search what other people are recommending and wades through a sea of titles and descriptions to find one. Swapping back and forth between tabs, she finds a website with a host of titles and flips back and forth until she finds a movie that is both on the list and currently on Netflix. But in the process, she loses track of the tab and accidentally closes it, silently cursing to herself, before going to check the history to find it again.

But what she finds in the history is not what she had been looking for.

Natasha feels almost scandalized when she sees the words “big busty blondes” in your search history, followed by a list of pornsites. While she knew you watched such videos in her absence, she didn’t know what genre you were into, and now a deep sinking feeling of insecurity fills her. She was not blonde, nor was she particularly busty after the years of hard workouts had shrank some of her assets a little. You always told her she had the perfect body, but now she wasn’t quite sure if she should believe you.

“Nat? Did you pick a movie?” You poke your head out of the bathroom. You’re not wearing a shirt and your wet hair is dripping water down your chest, emphasizing the lines of your muscles. Natasha can see the bullet scar on your ribs from the deployment that almost ended your life. But you walked away with every member of your team alive, and your tale of bravery had become something of a living legend in the community. 

She knows you could have any woman you wanted. She had seen the way the recruits eyed you and how bold the other brass were with you. Before your promotion to sergeant, you were often overlooked and completely ignored. Natasha, perhaps a little selfishly, always considered herself the catch in your relationship: she was one of a handful of female sergeants with outstanding credentials, and looked great in and out of a uniform. But maybe she thought too highly of herself. You had developed into a very competent sergeant, were extremely good-looking, and had the most lovable personality anyone could ask for.

What if you didn’t want her anymore? What if you wanted someone younger, or someone you could start a family with? Natasha hadn’t yet disclosed to you her inability to have children, but if the subject ever came up, she knew you’d need no other excuse to walk away.

“Nat? Did you pick out a movie?” you ask again.

“Yes,” Natasha says. “We can watch Trolls.”

“Okay. That sounds fun.”  

You come out in a sweatshirt with matching gray sweatpants and join Natasha on the couch. Instinctively, you put your arm around her shoulder and she snuggles against you, letting you rest your head against hers.

You seem to enjoy the goofy children’s movie, laughing out loud at the jokes and cheering when the main characters hug by the end. But Natasha can’t focus for a second, still thinking about the search history on your laptop. She didn’t even know if it was something she should bring up, but it was already eating her alive to think that she wasn’t good enough for you.

Natasha didn’t know if she would be able to survive without you. She would have to do everything she could to keep you by her side.

***********************************************************************

“Give me a sec,” Natasha calls, hurriedly slipping her boots on. She checks herself in the mirror one final time before opening her apartment door to see you.

“Hi, Nat–oh.” Your expression goes flat.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha asks, her stomach twisting in knots. Maybe this had been a bad idea.

“You dyed your hair,” you say, blinking at the short blonde hair she was now sporting.

“You don’t like it?” she asks, her worry growing by the second. She had dropped a significant sum at the salon on base to cut and dye her hair. Perhaps this had been a severe overreaction on her part. 

“Oh. No, um, it looks very nice,” you stutter. 

Natasha is not convinced in the slightest. Her face flushes red and she bites her lip to stop herself from crying in frustration. “That’s okay,” she mutters more to herself than you. “Where are we going again?” she asks, even though she knows every detail of the outing she had planned with you.

“The gym first, then we can get lunch and go grab groceries,” you list off, seemingly oblivious to her awkwardness. 

“Yes, that’s right. Okay, let’s go,” she replies sullenly.

***********************************************************************

Natasha isn’t sure what else she can do to hold your attention after the hair dying incident. She tries to be extra doting with you, but all of her efforts seem to go completely unnoticed. You only say “thank you” once when she gets you your favorite chocolate bar from the commissary. The next time the two of you are in bed together, Natasha feels like she has to guide you through all the motions and you fuck her with a concerningly low level of enthusiasm. Natasha is convinced you’ve found someone else and just the thought of losing you makes her sick. 

She’s nearly sent over the edge when she finally gets a text from you:

From Y/N: Can you come over tonight? I want to talk

Natasha feels like the rug has been pulled out from under her feet. Sweat breaks out on her forehead and her stomach starts to hurt like she had a bad meal. What if she just didn’t go to see you? Would you really still break up with her over text?

Her body seems to have a mind of her own as she responds:

To Y/N: Ok

***********************************************************************

“Thanks for coming over,” you say, welcoming Natasha into your apartment. She steps in guardedly, wondering if you’re hiding your new girlfriend under the couch. Or maybe she’s already in your bed. She shuffles down the hallway to subtly peer into your bedroom, which is empty.

“What did you want to talk about?” Natasha isn’t one to dance around the elephant in the room. Besides, she doesn’t want to draw this out any longer than it needs to be.

“Oh. Um…” You sound caught off guard. “Well, I was thinking that–”

“You want to break up with me.” Natasha can’t stop the tears forming in her eyes. She wipes them away, angry at herself for showing such weakness already.

“What? What makes you think that?” Your shock is so genuine, Natasha almost wants to believe you.

Natasha hides her face behind her hand. “I saw it on your laptop last week. The kind of porn you were watching–”

“Porn? I use incognito,” you say. “Unless that doesn’t actually hide things…” you add in a mumble.

“Your search history said you looked up…” Natasha takes a breath. “‘Big busty blondes,’” she repeats, hating the way the words sound off her tongue.

“What?” You sound confused now. “That’s…I don’t watch that kind of stuff. Wait, is that why you dyed your hair blonde?”

“No,” Natasha lies. “But I saw it on your laptop!” she insists, hastily changing the subject.

You pause for a moment, then start shaking your head with a chuckle. “I’m gonna rip him a new one,” you mutter. Then louder, you explain, “Sam borrowed my laptop last week because his was broken. I’m guessing he used it to…you know…” Your expression turns into one of disgust, and Natasha matches it. 

“Oh. So, you’re not into big busty blondes?” Natasha is embarrassingly desperate for clarification.

“No, I’m not.” You take a step towards her and hold out your hands. “But I do have a thing for hot redheads who could totally kick my butt.”

“I know,” Natasha says, taking your hands and leaning up to kiss you. Her lips lift into a smile when you return her kiss with more passion than you had all week, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her flush against you. You dig your fingers into her thighs, lightly rolling your hips, and when she feels your hard bulge against her stomach and all of her doubts are cast away immediately. Her face burns in shame when she realizes how quickly she had jumped to the wrong conclusion. You weren’t going anywhere. You were totally in love with her and wanted no one else.

“Wait, so what did you want to talk about?” Natasha asks, trying to ignore the arousal building in her core as you hump her.

“Oh! Um…” Your face reddens, as if you’re so turned on yourself you forgot why you asked her to come. “Uh…I wanted to ask if…you would like to move in with me? Or if I could move into your apartment? Or we could find a new place together…”

Natasha feels like she’s gotten whiplash from the subject change. She had come here thinking you were breaking up with her, but instead you actually wanted to move in with her? Just when she had thought it was never going to happen.

“Why the change?” she asks.

You shrug your massive shoulders. “We spend so much time together as it is. And I was mostly nervous because you know I have those night terrors a lot, but…” You sigh. “I realized I get them a lot less when I wake up next to you.” Natasha wants to melt in your arms. “And it would be really nice if I got to wake up next to you every day. And eat every meal with you. And–”

Natasha cuts you off with a hard kiss. “Yes,” she pants, groping for the tie on your sweatpants and pulling them down. “Of course I’ll move in with you.”

“Nat,” you whine when she grabs your cock. She feels it throb in her hand and her arousal spikes. As high as her own sex drive was, there was little else that turned Natasha on more than to see how excited you were for her. She pushes you towards the bedroom and you understand without needing words, obediently sitting down on your bed and pulling you on top of her. You grunt when her weight lands on your thighs and Natasha immediately props herself on her knees; sometimes she forgets about the injury on your right thigh that still causes you pain sometimes.       

“Sorry baby,” she whispers while leaning in to kiss your cheek. It had been a long and sometimes frustrating journey to get back to the same level of intimacy the two of you shared after the deployment ambush and your recovery. The medicines you were on had drastically affected your mood (and performance) and there were still some positions you could no longer do because of the strain it put on your body. But Natasha had been patient and gentle with you, even when all she wanted to do was fuck you senseless. Over time your strength and stamina had come back, and Natasha was thrilled you could still please her in bed. 

She leans back and takes her shirt off while you mirror her. You’re almost back to your weight as before the deployment, but the physical therapy has encouraged you to work out even harder, so you are more muscular and toned than before. Natasha eyes your body hungrily, her hand reaching out to trace the scar on your ribs. While she hates the memory attached to your scar, she can appreciate how much more badass it makes you look.

“Nat,” you say, and she breaks out of her thoughts. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” She pushes you to lie on your back, rolling her clothed lower body against yours. “Everything is very okay.” Her hands skate across your warm skin, squeezing your biceps before resting on your chest, balancing herself as she rocks back and forth. Even though you’re still wearing boxers, Natasha can feel the hardness of your dick pressing against her butt.

“All ready for me?” she hums, digging her nails lightly into your chest.

“Always,” you respond, rolling your hips to match her rhythm. 

“Hmm.” Natasha contemplates how she wants you today. You almost never call the shots in bed, but you have no problem with Natasha taking control most of the time. She likes how submissive you are to her and your willingness to please her even at your own expense. But she isn’t feeling selfish today and wants you to relax and enjoy too. 

Her body seems to have a mind of its own as she humps along your abs, eventually pushing her panties to the side so you can feel her heat on your stomach. 

“Nat,” you whine, gripping onto her waist to guide her movements. 

“Just let me ride you,” she says, lifting off of you for a moment to remove her panties completely, and the two of you moan when she settles back on you. You flex your abs until Natasha swears she could grate cheese on them. She angles her hips back and widens her legs so she can drag her pussy along the ridges of your abs, smearing her wetness everywhere. “Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” she moans.

“So do you,” you say, your hands tightening around her waist. 

Natasha moves her hips faster, sliding back until she can feel your cock practically poking a hole through your boxers. She’s just warming herself (and you) up and doesn’t want to rush to the main event. But as she hears your whines and feels the tension in your body, all she wants is for you to flip her over and fuck her until she can’t walk.  

“Can you do exactly what I ask you to?” Natasha pants, the building arousal in her stomach almost painful now.

“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes, Sergeant. Whatever you want.”

The use of Natasha’s title makes her pussy clench around nothing. Her body aches for you and she’s done playing around.

“Good. I want you to get on your knees and fuck me,” she demands, abruptly climbing off of you and presenting her backside to you. You scramble to obey, wasting no time lining up your cock with her soaking pussy and pushing in eagerly. Natasha inhales sharply when your length stretches her out, filling her perfectly and reaching places she could never reach with her hand or a toy. When you start moving your hips, she whimpers and moans, gripping handfuls of the bedsheets so you don’t slam her into the headboard.

She spasms around you with every stroke, clenching tightly and trying to draw you in as deep as you can go. Natasha loves to hear you moan, knowing she was the cause of them, and more of her slick leaks out around your cock. 

“Fuck, Nat,” you grunt, your thighs slapping against her butt with every thrust. “You always feel amazing.”

“Harder,” she begs. “I want you to cum when I do.”

“I’ll try,” you respond, your breathing ragged as you start to falter in your rhythm. 

“Fuck, you’re in me so deep,” Natasha moans, wishing that despite your already above-average size, you had more to give her. She lets go of the bedsheets and slips her hand down between her legs, rubbing her clit for added stimulation. “Don’t you dare stop,” she warns, noticing the way your legs are shaking and your thrusts are losing their power.

“I won’t,” you whimper, and Natasha is not convinced you’ll be able to last much longer. Her hand glides back up to her stomach, where she can feel the bulge of your cock through her skin. That alone nearly sends her over the edge, but she has one more request from you.

“Bite me,” Natasha pants, motioning to her right trapezius muscle. Normally, she is very against you marking her during sex because she doesn’t want to worry about hiding them, but now she is panting at the thought of you finally staking your claim on her.

“Bite you?” you say, sounding extremely timid.

“Yes!” she growls, not wanting to repeat herself. “If you don’t bite me, I won’t let you cum.”

You moan and tighten your grip on her waist. Natasha feels your cock throbbing inside her, but she knows you won’t finish without her permission. The bed creaks as your weight shifts and she feels your chest press against her back as you lean over her. She hums in anticipation, feeling your breath across the back of her shoulder. Your teeth graze her skin lightly, your hesitancy obvious. 

“Y/N,” she moans, pushing back into you and squeezing your length. “If you don’t fucking bite me–”

Your teeth suddenly clamp down sharply and Natasha keens, gushing around you and not even noticing you finish inside her. White spots of pure pleasure burst behind her eyelids and she feels cum drip down her thighs. It feels like she’s riding out the high forever, but when she finally unwinds, she feels your weight pressing into her back and a dull stinging in her shoulder. She twists her head to see the clear imprint of your teeth in her skin, the flesh reddening already.

“Sorry if that was too hard,” you say softly, as if you’re embarrassed by following her instructions.

“Nonsense,” she says, reaching behind her to cup the back of your neck. She pulls your head down against hers and nuzzles against your cheek. “Next time, you can bite me harder.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Sorry to Sam lol

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