#Natasha Romanoff fluff

[notanactressyayy]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭. | natasha romanoff

. ݁₊ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 . Natasha and you were the only 'constant' in each other's lives. poor you, to think you could get over her so easily.

. ݁₊ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 . smut! i am not responsible for your content consumption! — making out, g!p Natasha, guided masturbation, orgasm denial, unprotected sex (p in v), choking, swearing, homesickness, fluff, reconciliation.

. ݁₊ 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 . english isn't my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. been in love w Nat for a damn long time — i've been away for a while, but turns out i can't really live without her. i miss my red so much :(

Natasha Romanoff rarely had the chance to see the same face twice. She saw a lot of people throughout her life — as a spy, as a superhero, or simply as Natasha. The thing is: it was unlike she would return to a place she’s been before. It wasn’t uncommon for her to be on the run. Thus, she traveled around the whole world, and saw thousands, millions of different faces. Destiny made sure not to let her cross paths with the same individual again. It wasn’t only the diversity of people that she witnessed, though. This woman saw the world. She knew life’s ups and downs, and at some point in her life, she just got used to the idea that it would forever be like this: boring. Boring experiences, boring women, boring men, boring relationships. Nothing was ever exciting, thrilling. It felt like she was advanced in time, and the rest of the world wasn’t following her. This wasn’t a complete lie, she got her maturity at a very young age, which made her pay the price now, in adulthood. 

For a spy, the most important thing is to learn not to be caught off guard. But it seemed like life was never on Natasha’s side. And this time — it felt good. Oh, it felt so good. 

At first, she didn’t want to get high hopes. It would be just another temporary friendship to help her pass time, nothing more. However, you managed to surprise the red haired Avenger in the best way possible. When she decided to spare a little time of her life and get to know you more, it was really mind-blowing the side of herself she discovered. She never thought she could actually be.. giddy. Like a silly, hopeless romantic girl. That is what she became whenever it was time to see you. She got excited. Actually excited. She couldn’t see through you, read your emotions or body language, like she did with other people; It was a natural thing, sometimes she didn’t even mean to do that. But you, something within you, kept her at bay. Like you effortlessly turned Natasha into a normal woman. Somebody who could love. Somebody that wasn’t raised and enhanced to be a killer. Not that you went through anything like she did, but you weren’t naive. You showed her that people didn’t necessarily have to be traumatized to be aware of things, of reality, of the surroundings. And for her, you’re the most beautiful person in the whole world. Inside and out. She adored you. 

Opening up was never easy. Revealing the broken parts of herself wasn’t like having a simple chat. But patience is a virtue and thankfully, you followed that say just fine. Little by little, the secrets came out. Most of the parts you already knew — it’s not like she wasn’t a worldwide known superhero. What you mostly had to acknowledge were her feelings, the point of view of the little girl who was experiencing it all, and becoming a strong woman, with built up walls around her heart. Doing that was no problem. Natasha couldn’t be more thankful. 

She couldn’t be more infatuated. More in love.

She’d always remember that one day: in the bar with her team, and you — chattery, music, tons of drinks and laughter. Stolen glances. Stomach butterflies, wild. The moment Clint pulled Laura a little closer to himself, and Tony kissed Pepper’s cheek. How she used that as an excuse to pull you into her lap. Your breath getting labored. Eyelashes gently fluttering, to the point she could count them. Your gentle yet tight grip on her shoulders. Your goddamn eyes staring right into hers. And the part where everything would change: her own bodily reactions to all those little details about you. When you restlessly shifted on her lap, quietly gasping when something poked you through your dress. Eyes going wide at the bulge showing on her black jeans. 

From that point on, you belonged to her.

Or so, she thought.

The sex was great, but she was in conflict — she couldn't tell if the only reason for it to be that enjoyable was because you were both tipsy, almost drunk, or if it was really meant to be that way. It felt right, yes, to have you in her arms like this — naked, piles of discarded clothes laying by her bed.. the sound of your quiet snoring as you cuddled into her. It was also a relief to her. To have someone care for her, desire her, after so long, after forever. The night had been amazing. She was a mature woman anyway, wasn't she? She could sort her feelings out without messing up everything.

Wrong. By the morning, everything would change.

You stared at her as she got up and got dressed again, eyes still a little blurry from sleep, eyebrows ceasing into a small confused frown. "You're not staying?" you'd ask, sitting up and leaning against the headboard, bringing up the sheets to cover your unclothed body. "Ugh, my head hurts like hell,"

"Got things to do." she simply answered, cradling the side of your face and kissing your forehead. You could swear the look on her face was.. apologetic. She tilted her head towards the nightstand, where some aspirin and water waited for you. "Take these. I'll text you later."

"Okay.." you mumble, disoriented. As she leaves, you reach out, shoving the aspirin in your mouth and downing the pills with water. Was there something you were missing? Because all you could remember was how good her hands felt on you, the way they wrapped around you neck while she—

You shook your head, lying down again, and closing her eyes. All the fun and pleasure you had been given from the previous night was slowly vanishing and being replaced by a feeling of uncertainty and confusion. Natasha was an enigmatic person, okay, but you thought you knew her better. She had no reason to leave you just like that, especially when she had already vented about all her past experiences, flaws and failures. Nah, it was probably nothing, you were overthinking. Perhaps she indeed had something important to take care of. You closed your eyes as fatigue took over, and slept for a little bit more.

Natasha went back to her apartment — one of her apartments, and for the whole day, her thoughts ran like crazy. Her emotions were all over the place. She had just fucked her best friend, the one person she felt comfortable and at ease with. She considered her feelings carefully; this.. dinamic, between you two, had not been platonic for a considerable amount of time. But not being platonic doens't necessarily means being romantic. It could either be love, or lust. What happened the day before was carnal, once the two of you were way too much in a drunken haze to actually feel anything.

And, like always, Natasha didn't want to think about falling in love. She felt scared just by thinking about this. It was a new territory, one she wasn't willing to deep dive in. So she took her phone and deeply sighed, opening her chat with you.

"Yesterday was fun. But I need some time. I don't think this can work. Hope you're doing okay. xx"

That text just completely shattered you.

You had no idea what you did wrong. It was not like Natasha was pushing you away forever — but while being with her, the only thought running through your mind was: I wanna be with her. I wanna explore this with her. And Natasha didn't give a single sign that she thought the opposite. You felt... disappointed. With yourself and her. For hoping.

Yeah, getting involved with an ex kgb Avenger killer spy probably wasn't the best idea.

You wouldn't simply forget everything you shared together, so the easiest way here not to create a big tension was.. being fake. The two of you weren't stupid, you were aware of the unspoken feelings going on. But what happened that night should not happen again. So your friendship was what prevailed. A friendship like the start. But obviously, with a few changes. Natasha and you didn't lose touch — on the contrary, you were closer than ever. You spoke and flirted (a lot), but with one small rule, a rule that you subconsciously added to this.. situationship. No feelings involved. It would be singularly that. Friends, some casual hookups, and nothing else.

It didn't last, because that's not what you both wished, longed for.

Little by little, this turned boring again. Not that you were the boring one and she just didn't realize this before. Far from that. The thing was: Natasha and you were supressing your feelings, consequently, supressing all the thrill, the delicious tension that hanged in the air whenever she, once again, crossed paths with you. The russian wanted nothing more than just grab you and kiss you hard, pour all the emotions that she kept bottled up throughout her life into the kiss. But unfortunately, she couldn't. She had a duty to fullfil, as someone born, destined to save the world.

And with all of this, you and her settled a distance. You with your previous and trivial life, and her, saving little girls from bad guys, and bringing down cats from tall trees. It was truly shocking: one day, you lived for Natasha Romanoff. She was your everything and everything you'd ever want. In a blink of an eye, it ended. You followed your paths, like two completely different people, with different purposes.

Right person, wrong time.

Fool her, to think she could get over you that easily. Poor you, to try and put that inside of your head as well.

Sometimes, when normally doing daily tasks, you would catch yourself thinking about her — when you were going to watch TV and put your legs on the coffee table, instead of simply sitting. It was an habit of hers. Or when eating something with peanut butter. It was her favourite late night snack. When it rained. She liked to watch the rain. With somebody else's hands on you. It wasn't right. It was never right to have somebody else touch you. You were constantly thinking about your life before things with her changed — the memories brought comfort, a sense of nostalgia.. at some point, you weren't living in the present anymore. Just faking. Faking your feelings. Pretending it was okay to let her go.

This woman ruined you for everything and everyone else.

Natasha could relate to that. In a life that could be resumed in one word: a 'whirlwind' of a life, and you were her only 'constant' among all of this... she couldn't bear this anymore.

So she made an important decision.

The decision was today.

Today: she'd take you out again, praying that, if not reconciliation, she wanted at least to say everything she had to say. Because if life taught her one thing, was to make choices that she wouldn't regret in the future. And it was damn right she would regret choosing not to meet you tonight.

Sitting in the stool of the bar, in a more secluded corned, her eyes followed your figure as you approached — purse hanging on your shoulder, dress exposing your back and a little bit of your waist, eyes so awfully soft and gentle as you looked at her. It wasn't fair. A pang of guilt hit her hard. Oh, she regretted letting that go. She wanted you to be mad at her. But you were not. She shakily rises to her feet to kiss your cheek as you stand in front of her, thankfully not stumbling. Your eyes lock again, already in a trance. Just like that other day.

"How are you doing?" you ask. Natasha could cry. She missed that voice everyday. "Did I take too long? I'm sorry."

"No, no. Don't worry." she swallows hard. You both sit on the stools by the countertop. When the bartender comes, the redhead dismisses him. She wanted the two of you sober for this. "I'm... so much better now that you're here, honestly. How about you?"

"Amazing." you chuckle, tilting your head to the side and watching her. She didn't change a bit. Hair braided, black jeans, leather jacket. That was your Natasha. "I didn't expect you calling me here, to be honest..—"

"Me neither." she admits, in a whisper. Her tongue darts out to moisten her lips, eyes involuntarily starting at your mouth. She sighs and looks into your eyes. "But I had to... I can't get you off my mind."

Her sincerity never fails to amaze you. With each second that passes, the butterflies in your tummy return, to remind you of the past — feelings and sensations resurfacing. You bite on your bottom lip and look around the bar, quickly scanning to see if there was anybody paying attention to the two of you. Maybe a few eyes here and there, which didn't linger. Everyone else was too busy minding their own business — and it's not like you'd care if someone was staring anyway. Natasha turned some heads. You felt greedy for that. You were the one having her. The only one having her.

"You live in my head rent free, Natasha." you tell her, voice having a sultry edge to it. You slowly stand, walking closer.

You take her hands and open her arms — making it possible for you to straddle her thigh. She tenses almost immediately. Her head tilts up to stare into your eyes, arms circling your waist to keep you close, where she wanted. You shake your head when you see a small frown between her eyebrows — lips pressing against that small spot, coaxing a little exhale of hers. She missed you. Everyday. Every minute. She wanted that respect and care all the time.

"What are we even doing here?" she whispers, so quietly you almost can't hear it. Her hands cup your waist and gently roam up and down your sides, palms brushing against your bare skin every now and then, all thanks to the waist slits of your dress. Your face leans closer to hers, noses bumping — the smallest of touches, making you both crave what you once had. "Why didn't I just invite you to my place right away?"

"I don't know. Why didn't you?" you raise one eyebrow, fingertips caressing her jawline. Her hands give your waist a squeeze — and you almost moan. She swore she could hear it. It replayed in her head, the beautiful sounds you made for her. She wanted to hear them again. She was going to make you sound like that again.

It wasn't just a physical thing — your body and mind craved her touch, her presence, so much that just the mere thought of being on her bed again got you soaked. She felt something wet through the rough fabric of her jeans, and that got her brain spinning. She fell for you hard. So painfully hard.

"Let's get out of here," she groans, hands firmly grabbing your thighs and lifting you up — wrapping your legs around her waist and carrying you out the pavement. Her hardness pressed right against your core — you blushed, hiding your face on her shoulder, wrapping your arms around her neck.

In a heartbeat, you were back at your house.

Your place, because it was the fastest way, when taking the cab. No words were exchanged, not yet. The aching, burning need had to be taken care of first — before properly talking. Your back hits the wall hard as Natasha pushes you against it — her body trapping you between herself and the hard surface — hands hardly, possessively holding you by the hips. Desperately, even. Making sure you wouldn't slip away from her grasp. Her lips dance with yours, tentatively, yet naturally, tongues tasting one another after what felt like centuries. She felt so good, tasted so good.

"Nat..—" you moan against her lips, having her bottom lip trapped between your teeth, then releasing it. Your forehead against hers, eyes soft and filled with desire. Your hands hold her cheeks, traveling to her jaw. Needily, you press kisses to the side of her throat, breathing shaky, heart hardly thrumming. "I never stopped thinking about you..."

"Yeah?" she hums, grabbing the hem of your dress and lifting it up, bunching the fabric by your hips. Her fingers hook around the elastic of your panties and pull them down, pooling around your feet — making you gasp, and pull away from her neck. Eyes wide open. The air hits your heat, making you needier for her.

You almost mewl.

"God, I need you." Natasha utters. She grabs you again and smashes her lips against yours once more, now with so much more passion, more need, more anxiety. Her bulge presses against your now unclothed wetness, coaxing a tiny cry of need out of you. You breathlessly pull away from her, reaching down and fumbling with the buttons of her jeans — until she stops you.

"No—"

"Quiet." she shushes, maneuvering you back, until your body hits the mattress. She climbs onto the bed and stays in a kneeling position, hungrily taking you in. Messy, needy, all for her. Sober, like she wanted planned from the first time. "That dress goes off."

Her voice is commanding, yet not harsh — and her eyes betray her a little. Her eyes are almost pleading, that it is clear how much she needs this. To have you all to herself, to show you how much she wants that. Her underwear becomes even more tight as she sees your trembling fingers, pulling the dress over your head and tossing it aside, lips parted. Just by her look, you can tell she wants the bra off, too. So you reach behind your back and grants her silent wish, breasts now exposed to her sight.

"There you are..." she moans to herself, shamelessly taking in the sight of you. You're a work of art. With her hand, she coaxes your knees open, and parts your legs. "My... you're so wet. So perfectly wet."

"You're still with a lot on.." you quietly complain, feeling hot and shy at the same time. But her gaze is enough to wipe away the confusion from your eyes. She had a plan.

"Touch yourself for me." she breathes out.

Your eyes briefly widen with the unexpectedness of this statement. You had certainly done this before — touched yourself thinking of her — but the idea of showing this, while she watched, never crossed your mind. But it wasn't an unpleasant idea. It was actually... hot. Sensual. They darken, pupils blown wide as you make yourself comfortable against the pillows, eyelids fluttering as your legs spread a little more, palm resting on your stomach, then moving down. Deliberately, it reaches your sex, a shakily sigh leaving your lips when your middle and ring finger collect some of the slick coat covering your sensitiveness, using it to slowly rub your clitoris, getting you to gasp louder.

"Natasha..." you whisper, eyes falling close, thoughts wandering.

Wandering back to the start — when you first discovered your feelings for her, then the climax, when you both got in bed due the alcohol — then the aftermath, when you needed her so much, felt so alone at night, that your fingers were the only solution. Little wet sounds echo within the room as you rub circles on yourself, applying just the right amount of pressure, that it doesn't take long for the pit in your stomach to manifest itself.

"Faster." Natasha rasps out, taking her jacket and quickly throwing it away. She pulls her tank top over her head, then undo the buttons of her jeans — leaving the bed, just so she can get rid of all the uncomfortable fabric, and climbing it again. She crawls closer to you — eyeing you as you worked on your pussy, her hands caressing your thighs, adding to the stimulation.

"Please...!" you whimper, doing as you're told — rubbing yourself faster — slipping one of your fingers inside your entrance, almost cumming, that quickly. "Please, I need you..!"

"I need you too," she moans to herself, and harshly grabs your wrist, pulling your hand away. You moan loudly in protest — Natasha wouldn't tease you. Not today, when you both needed each other so much. She discards her undergarments, finally — groaning as she's set free. Your eyes lock on her hard length, which was practically hitting her abs now.

"Put it inside me." you beg, grabbing her shoulders to pull her closer. She hovers over you, bracing herself on her forearms, on each side of your body. Your fingernails gently graze her back. Natasha was feeling so much, so much more than she ever felt. Your eyes were sparkling so much, like you were crying — shimmering with the depth of your adoration for her. You grab her cheeks and press your lips to hers, in a gentle peck. Knowing her past, she didn't have to explain her reasons for what had happened. She was scared before, and you respected. "Go on. Love me."

She couldn't wait no longer. She lowers her forehead to your shoulder and places her hands on your hips — her chest against yours, as she lined herself with your hole, effortlessly pushing inside. Stretching you out, like she once did. Having the chance to hear that delicious sounds again.

"You're mine... shit," she groans, rolling into you gently, getting you used to the feeling first. You're so tight, so perfect around her. Natasha's overwhelmed. Her hands press against the base of your throat, squeezing firmly, yet leaving enough room for air. She's so hot. "That pussy is mine. You're mine. You're all mine—"

"Yes," you moan, wrapping your legs around her middle. You wouldn't take long to come tonight. Maybe she'd make you come over and over. She rocks into you, pace not too slow, not too fast. Just right. The right tempo to bring you both the pleasure and connection you so much needed. "Mhm.. fuck, Nat, missed your cock,"

"You're gonna take it over and over—" she comments — kissing your shoulder, roaming her hands up your body, her right palm cupping your breast and giving it a firm squeeze. Your head lolls back, mouth opening to allow a satisfied moan out. "I'm never fucking letting you go again,"

She accelerates, pulling almost all the way out just to slam back into you again — feeling her climax approach. She moves her mouth close to your ear and moans — her own sounds now mixing with yours.

"Natasha...! Fuck, you feel soo good," you gasp, a wave of pleasure washing over you as you get closer. She takes the hint immediately, cupping the back of your knee and pushing it up, allowing her a better angle. "Ah, gimme more,"

"My greedy girl," she groans, her head tilting back. Her cock twitches inside of you — precum already painting you white. She glanced down at where your folds swallowed her, eyes darkening impossibly more. "You're so goddamn tight... 'm not gonna last, moya krasivaya malysha,"

"Okay.. 'ts okay... Cum with me..." you beg her, tangling your fingers into her red strands of hair, pulling her down more, so her forehead rests against yours — the eye contact increasing the intimacy of the moment. She didn't know what to expect now. Didn't know what to think. Only that she had to fill you up.

"C'mon.. nhg, darling.. c'mon.. cum around me," she encourages, feeling her own legs shake as her orgasm washed over her.

She grabbed your hips hard and slammed into you — once, twice, three times, filling you up with her hot release. You squeezed your eyes shut as your body shuddered forwards, breasts pressing against her own as a long, strangled moan flowed out of you, nails digging into her back, pressing her body against yours as you finished. Your walls clenched around her cock, swallowing her more, not allowing her to pull away just that. "God.. I love you!"

Natasha blinks, not sure if she heard right. Her heart squeezes in her chest, arms wrapping around your body. Her back hits the bed and she flips you on top of her, still inside of you — but now, her member softened. The adrenaline was running wild, but you had calmed down a little bit. Just a little. Because this time, it wasn't pure sex. It was lovemaking.

Your face is buried in her chest as she brings up the covers, creating a cocoon of warmth around you. She buries her face into your hair and inhales deeply, staying silent. Just to process things.

"I love you, too. So so much." she murmurs into you hair. She felt terrified to say this. But once you're someone who she already showed her scars to, it's not that bad anymore.

"You do?" you ask expectantly, feeling tired, drowsy. Natasha smiles at that. She feels her eyes burning with heavy emotion. She nods.

"Yes... I love you so much." she confirms, softly stroking her hair, brushing some strands away from your sweaty forehead. "And I want you to be mine. Will you be mine?"

"You're asking me to be your girlfriend after the sex?" you chuckle quietly, but happiness was evident in your voice. Now you could sleep at peace. The first night of rest you'd have in a long time. In the arms of the woman you cherished, worshipped.

Natasha had won now. She was so fucking relieved. All because of a phrase.

"Of course I will, you idiot."

"I'm never, ever, ever letting you go again." the room is messy, smell of sex lingering around you. But now things were sorted out. By the morning, you could have a more direct, serious conversation. For now, you'd rest together, wrapped up in each other's arms, like it was always meant to be.

[wandascrush]

Starks ball

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Avengers x Fem!Reader, Platonic Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Stress, hunger, descriptions of female body, that's it I think?

Pt. 4 to my DIWK series

You stood frozen in the middle of the room, Wanda’s words echoing in your head. She knows… but what does she know?

The door clicked shut behind her, and you released a shaky breath, your heart hammering in your chest. You knew the risks when you were put on this mission, especially as a “new” Avenger. But Wanda? Wanda finding out? That’s something you hadn’t prepared for. The mission was already complicated, but now there was more than just the Avengers at stake—there was Natasha. If Wanda told her or anyone else before you had a chance to explain, everything would come crashing down. Lives were at stake. Your life was at stake.

You ran a hand through your hair, pacing as your thoughts raced. Confronting Wanda now would only raise more suspicion. But the thought of Natasha lingered, her lips, her kiss, the way she looked at you with that rare softness. You shouldn’t even be thinking about letting anyone in—this mission wasn’t about feelings—but here you were, caught between conflicting desires. Shit.

The next morning, a hard thud at your door jolted you awake. The clock read 5:30 a.m. Now who the fu—oh. Natasha stood waiting outside, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, dressed in a black zip-up and leggings. Meanwhile, your unruly hair curled every which way like a lion’s mane, your eyes heavy with sleep.

“Hey, Nat. What’s wrong?” your voice came out raspy.

She smirked. “What, I need a reason now to knock on your door at 5:30 a.m.?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“Wake your ass up, we’re going on a run.”

   A groan almost escaped you, but you swallowed it down. If Natasha wasn’t so pretty, funny, and smart—and whatever, if she wasn’t your friend—you would’ve said no. But instead, you forced a smile.

“I was thinking the same thing!”

A chuckle rumbled in her chest. “Sure you were, Y/N. Sure.”

“I was! I’m dead serious, y’know.” You winked and started washing up.

Ten miles later, you collapsed on the grass, panting and regretting your early mornings decisions. "So, is this your idea of a hangout—or torture?" you gasped, trying to regain your breath.

“This is a rest day for me, sweetheart,” Natasha teased, lying beside you, her hands on her chest as she slowed her breathing.

“Good for you, asshole. Brunch?”

As the sun roasted you both, you noticed Natasha’s eyes flickering over you. Her gaze lingered on your body—your curves, your strong arms, your legs. The way your chest rose and fell with a steady rhyth,, the glistening of sweat on your breasts- she quickly turned away, mentally scolding herself. No better than a man.

Earlier, during the run, she’d run out of water, and you hadn’t hesitated to share yours. There was something unexpectedly sweet about that, and it caught her off guard. As she looked back at you now, Natasha realized how easy it was to talk to you, how natural everything felt when it was just the two of you.

Together, the two of you were refreshing. Conversation flowed easily, and if you weren’t careful, hours would pass by without notice. The food grew cold from how little either of you ate, too busy laughing, teasing, and genuinely listening. It wasn’t just casual banter, either—Natasha let herself be semi-vulnerable in those rare moments.

Later that night, after a quick shower, you were just about to figure out what to eat for a late dinner when the door to your bedroom beeped. Your heart leapt in your chest, half-expecting Wanda. But when the door slid open, it was Natasha. She leaned against the frame, arms crossed, her eyes searching your face.

“Busy?” she asked, her voice calm, but the tension between you was unmistakable.

You forced a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “Always.”

Natasha stepped into the room, the space between you disappearing as her fingers brushed your arm. The air around you shifted. Her touch grounded you, but it also pulled you deeper into the mess you were in.

“I’ve been thinking…” she trailed off, her voice quieter now, her walls lowering.

Your pulse quickened. “Yeah?”

Natasha’s usual steel gaze softened, and there was no hint of a joke in her eyes this time. “About how stupid this is. Letting this happen.”

Your heart sank. “You think this is stupid?”

She frowned slightly, stepping back just enough to create space. “No. I mean…yes. Actually, yeah. Look at us.We know better. With everything going on. The missions, the risks. We both know what this kind of thing leads to. It’s too complicated.”

You wanted to reassure her, to tell her that whatever this was between you wasn’t a mistake. That you were more than friends…omething in-between. But the secret you were carrying tightened in your chest, choking the words. “Nat, I… there’s something I need to—”

Before you could finish, alarms blared throughout the compound, red lights flashing in sync with the shrill warning. Natasha’s posture instantly shifted back into mission mode, her eyes darting to the ceiling.

“Guess we’ll have to table that for now,” she muttered, pulling away. “We’ll pick this up later.”

You nodded, but the weight in your chest told you “later” might never come.

The Quinjet hummed as you stepped onto the launch pad, where Tony, Steve, and Clint were already preparing to gear up. You tried to shake off the tension, the ache in your chest, but it stayed with you. Natasha caught your eye for a split second, then turned to Steve.

“A mission this late?” you asked. “What’s going on?”

“Sorry, Y/N,” Steve said as he strapped on his shield. “We only need Nat on this one. Fury said he needs you on his level.”

Oh?  “Yeah, sure. Good luck.”

    The elevator ride to Fury’s office felt endless, every floor an opportunity to dwell on how complicated things had become. The familiar ding finally broke your thoughts, and you stepped into the stark, empty office. Fury was already seated, his legs propped on the desk, twirling a butterfly knife between his fingers. His face unreadable, as usual.

“Fury.”

“L/N. Sit.” The leather crunched awkwardly beneath you as you sat, the musky scent of his cologne filling the air and already giving you a headache.

“What about ‘inconspicuous presence’ did you not understand?” Fury asked, his voice sharp.

��Come aga—” Before you could finish, Fury slid three photos across the desk. You and Natasha, laughing over breakfast hours earlier.

Oh.

“You don’t think HYDRA agents eat breakfast? You don’t think they spend time in the city? You were out in public with Natasha.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

Fury’s booming voice cut you off again. “What the hell were you thinking, Agent? One slip-up, and the whole operation goes up in smoke. All for some damn eggs and bacon?”

   The room fell quiet. A part of you wanted to laugh, maybe out of nerves. But Fury’s sigh across the desk was heavy, frustrated.

“This is getting too complicated. And I have more at stake now than I did before... things have changed. In the months I’ve been at HYDRA, I’ve only given them three useful pieces of intel. They’re getting suspicious, Fury. And impatient. You know that.”

He was silent. 

You continued, “And I’m trying to log into their data network, find their other bases but they always have someone in there with me- watching. It’s like they know…”

    Fury sat up, his gaze locking onto yours. “Are you telling me you can’t handle this? This is your operation, I recruited you specifically for this. You’ve fed us valuable intel…maybe even the most we’ve been able to get from the inside thus far. Hold out a little longer. I’ll send you another file to pass off—something useless.”

You swallowed hard and cleared your throat. “I won’t let you down.”

As you turned to leave, Fury’s voice followed you. “And Agent?”

You craned your neck around, one foot out the door, “Yea, boss?”

“Keep those eyes open.”

   You nodded on your way out, and the weight in your chest grew heavier. That insistent, intimidating Mr. Clean look-alike always knew how to push the right buttons. He knew you loved being an agent, loved SHIELD, loved the Avengers- this oddball family of heroes. The day he walked into your training grounds, dodging the blows and kicks all around him to get to where you were- knife throwing station- and handed you a sealed black envelope was a memory like no other. Being asked to join the Avengers had been an honor you didn’t see coming, but now, more than ever, you wondered how long you could keep this going.

   That night, after washing up and doing your skincare, you heard a knock at your door. When you opened it, Wanda stood there, dressed in a black hoodie and grey sweats, her eyes cast downward.

“No one’s here, and I need help with my hair for tomorrow… I heard you were good at braiding.”

You forgot the Stark ball was tomorrow. You gestured for her to sit on the bed, positioning yourself behind her. “Mind if I brush through your waves first?”

Wordlessly, Wanda levitated the brush over to you, setting it in your lap. As the brush found its rhythm, the tension between you began to ease. The silence, once unbearable, became perfect. Fifteen minutes in, Wanda’s head began to dip, her body relaxing. Eventually, she drifted off to sleep, her breathing soft and even.

You smirked to yourself. Not how I thought tonight would go.

You finished braiding her hair gently, watching as she snuggled into your bed. With a sigh, you grabbed a few pillows and a blanket and settled down on the floor. Great for your back, really.

When Wanda woke up the next morning, confusion clouded her brain until she remembered last night. She looked over at you, a small lump curled up under blankets on the floor. With a gentle flick of her wrist, she dropped the hairbrush onto you.

“Ow! What was that for?” you blinked the sleep out of your eyes, stretching out your stiff back.

“What happened last night?” she asked, sitting up in bed.

“You fell asleep, so I braided your hair. Then I slept on the floor.”

“And you slept on the floor because…?”

“I wanted you to be comfortable.”

Wanda frowned, but something in her softened. She quickly masked it, crossing her arms. “Well, you shouldn’t have done that. It’s your bed. Next time, just kick me out.”

“Next time?” You raised an eyebrow, peering up at her with a teasing grin.

“Shut up.”

“No can do. My room, my rules.”

Wanda hated how nonchalant you could be—so guarded, yet so soft when you wanted to be. And that contradiction? It was driving her insane.

The day of the Stark ball, the tower transformed into a dazzling, jazz-filled event. You slipped into a navy-blue silk dress, applied just the right amount of makeup, and made your way downstairs to join the rest of the Avengers.

It felt like hours of shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries with strangers, but eventually, you found yourself leaning against the cool marble surface of the bar counter, sipping on a cocktail when you heard the familiar click of heels.

“That you, Tasha?” you asked without turning around.

“Spot on,” Natasha said, her voice warm, as she approached. When you turned to face her, you were struck by how stunning she looked. Her hair was curled to perfection, dark red lips giving her a sultry pout. The pout you so desperately wanted to kiss again.

Her hand grazed your hip as she pulled you in a little closer. “You look nice.”

You didn’t realize Wanda was watching from across the room, her grip tightening on her champagne flute. You tried to shake off the heat rising in your chest.

“I know,” you said, your voice cool, though your pulse quickened. Natasha smirked, her fingers lingering. If you wanted her to stop, you would’ve pulled away by now.

“Don’t be sore with me, honey.”

“Why would I be sore with you, Romanoff? We’re friends after all.” But the tension was thick between you.

“Friends? Maybe it’s a little more complicated than that,” Natasha whispered, her breath warm against your neck. There was a slight push in her tone.

“Maybe. But you don’t like complicated.”

“Says who?”

“Says you, earlier,” you teased, gently moving her hands away before walking off. Natasha watched you closely, biting the inside of her cheek as she watched you walk away, ever so non-chalant.

Later, you found a quiet corner to sit in, trying to collect your thoughts when Wanda appeared. She swayed her hips a little as she approached—unconscious, but it caught your eye.

“L/N,” she said, sitting down beside you. “I just wanted to say thanks.”

“For?”

“Letting me sleep. You should’ve kicked me out.”

“Why would I do that? When someone’s tired, let them sleep.”

Wanda narrowed her eyes at you, skeptical. “You looked like a dejected puppy.”

You smirked, taking a sip of your martini.

For the rest of the night, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, exchanging small quips and people-watching. Wanda’s eyes occasionally flickered to you, admiring the way your dress fell gracefully over your body. You were still a bit of an enigma to her, but that curiosity had slowly shifted into something more. You were a bit annoying, but she was starting to not mind it so much. And you were starting not to mind her attitude.

The next afternoon, while nursing a mild hangover, you lay on the couch in the common room, sipping water when Peter flopped down next to you, looking half-dead.

“You and me both, kid,” you groaned.

He didn’t respond, too drained to talk. You nudged his shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Midterms. Been studying for weeks. Can’t sleep.”

“So why are you here and not at home?”

“I needed a change of pace. Plus, May has a date… I didn’t want to be around for that.”

You chuckled and dragged yourself up from the couch, heading toward the kitchen. “Hungry?”

“I could eat,” Peter mumbled.

As you started making tomato soup and grilled cheese, you caught him peeking over your shoulder, curious but awkward. “Peter, if you’re that interested, why don’t you help me?”

He joined you, and the two of you made a mess of the kitchen. Watching Peter struggle to cut tomatoes was endearing, and you were reminded of someone special.

“You know who you remind me of right now?” you said, a small smile playing on your lips.

“Uh—a kid who can’t cut tomatoes?”

“No, dumbass. You remind me of my sister.”

“Older or younger?”

“Younger. By now, she would’ve been your age.”

“Would’ve been?”

You opened your mouth to explain, but before you could speak, a sneeze echoed from the hallway. You recognized it immediately.

“You can come out now, Wands. I know that sneeze.”

Wanda sheepishly stepped into view, a flush on her cheeks. “What’re you two up to?”

“Lunch. Want some?” you asked, feeling a sudden urge to impress her with your cooking. As she tasted the soup, you watched her intently.

Wanda moaned softly at the taste, and your heart skipped a beat. “This is amazing.”

You beamed. “My very own recipe.”  Maybe everything wasn't so bad after all.

[stellar-solar-flare]

Natasha Romanoff + ribbons

Thank you for sending a prompt! Stella's Halloween Shenanigans 👻

“So, what do you think?”

Nat was quiet as you emerged into the living room. She’d gently laughed at you as you’d shooed her out of the master bedroom, not wanting her to see your Halloween costume before it was completely ready. Granted, the master spy that she was, she probably could’ve found out what you were going as, but she’d respected your wishes.

Your heart thrummed in your chest as her eyes took you in: the crisscrossing ribbons on your legs, the see-through thighs that matched your skin tone, the black tutu skirt that circled your hips, made of feathers that climbed over your torso and hugged your breasts. You had spent a long time on the makeup to get it perfectly dark and even, and the crown was pinned securely into your hair.

You were the perfect Black Swan.

“You look amazing,” Nat said as she slowly rose from the sofa.

“Well. It’s our first Halloween together. I wanted to go all out,” you smiled.

She’d gone with a classic pirate look, with a loose white shirt and a corset on top, complete with black pants, tall boots, a sword belt, and a triangular hat. The sword made a clinking sound as she stepped in front of you.

“It’s a positively dangerous look, angel,” she purred, her fingers feathering your jaw and pulling you in for a soft kiss – all you had time for, right now. “I love it.”

“It’s a shame I don’t know how to do ballet,” you chuckled as she let go.

“I would be more than happy to teach you if you wanted to,” Nat said, lifting her brow as she adjusted her hat.

You swallowed. You were an agent – your body was a part of your toolbox, and you could do your fair share of martial arts. But you were no Black Widow, and the idea of having someone like Nat teach you was rather intimidating, no matter your relationship. You’d seen her dance; you’d practically been glued to the gym floor, watching her move gracefully through the room.

On your first date, she’d taken you to watch the Swan Lake ballet.

“I’d be gentle with you, angel,” she smiled, with a flash of something devious in her eyes.

“I know,” you whispered, the nervousness melting out of your body. “I’d love to.”

You knew her. As intimidating as the Black Widow was, you were not in a relationship with her but Nat. And it was Nat who reached for your hand.

“It’s a date then,” she murmured. “But now, let’s go see what extravaganza Tony has planned.”

[scarnatlover]

Forgotten Hearts moodboard

"Will you remember me? Once you get out of this hell?" You asked her one day, your head on her bare chest covered with marks that you left on her a few hours before, her hands gently tracing the scars to the sides of your mouth.

"I will always take you with me, angel, even if you are not there. We fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. To feel complete, I need you", the redhead replied without hesitation, continuing to caress your face first, then the curves and then go up to your back and stop there.

[morbidlcve]

n.r p-links

Natasha Romanoff P-Links

cw: strap-on use, cunnulingus, making out (?), oral, but plugs, car sex, kitchen sex, shower sex, overstimulation, edging, there may be more, who knows?

nat giving you head

sucking nats strap

sleepover with nat!

nat bending you over in the shower

nat edging and overstimming you

eating nat out

nat destroying your poor cunt

car sex w nat!

riding nats thigh

making out

riding nats strap

but plugging and nat fucking up into you

nat eating you out (again)

nat giving you the strap and playing with your clit

nat fucking you on the counter

ur welcome?

[wandasaura]

RED WINE SUPERNOVA

summary — when wanda first proposed making you cum in front of her friends, you’d thought she’d been joking, but when maria and carol come over for your annual halloween movie night, you realize she wasn’t at all

warning(s) — established relationship, heavy dom/sub elements, exhibitionism, slight voyeurism, humiliation, degradation, praise kink, teasing, cum tasting, finger sucking, make out session, nipple stimulation/torture, orgasm control/delay, unintentional edging, fingering, clit stimulation, alludes to maria being dommy, carol and maria watch, possessiveness, eventual orgasm, soft aftercare, brief domestic fluff/cuteness, men/minors dni

kinktober

The fabric of your panties had once felt soft against your skin, comfortable and easy as you slid through the house on sock covered feet, preparing for a movie night with your girlfriends and two of their friends. It had become something of a tradition, a soft moment to look forward to in a life overwise filled with chaos and constant movement. Tonight, you’d thought you’d be cuddled up close to Natasha, holding onto Wanda’s hand as you watched Coraline and countless other films that had always inspired spooky feelings in your heart, but when Natasha had steered you away from the wardrobe, declaring that your outfit was enough on its own despite the nakedness of your uncovered stature in frilly panties with a dull pink bow sewn onto the waistband and a lacey top that matched so sweetly, that soft cotton fabric between your legs had very quickly become damp with persistent arousal and anticipation; no longer comfortable as every time you shifted in place, you were reminded of your desperate state and unwavering vulnerability. 

Maria and Carol had been right on time, barging straight into the quaint albeit perfectly cozy apartment that you, Wanda, and Natasha shared whenever they weren’t crashing in safe houses and Shield facilities off the grid. They’d hardly even glanced in your direction as they barrelled through the door, something that was odd and had your belly twisting with wild emotions and sensations, especially when you came to realize why they were acting as if you weren’t there at all. This had been something brought up in passing conversation one night, merely a wild fantasy that Wanda had shared after coming back from a grueling solo mission. You had always known that she was on the kinkier side, especially out of you and Natasha, but hearing about how she wanted to show you off to her friends, wanted to stake her claim with you in front of an audience of your most trusted acquaintances, had you eagerly agreeing to her little fantasy. That’s all that you thought it would be, a fantasy that stayed within the walls of your shared bedroom, but then Natasha brought it up last week, and now here you were, sat on the couch between both of your girlfriends, your naked thighs glimmering beneath the ambient lighting of the television as one of them held your hand, and the other stroked your inner thigh as if you were nothing more than a priceless object to flaunt. 

Your cheeks were heated with flushed humiliation and undeniable arousal, the center of your panties damp and darkened, although thankfully hidden from view yet not ignored entirely. Every few minutes, when you had been led to believe that Natasha’s heavy, possessive, hand wouldn’t rise any further up your thigh, she would stretch her fingers outward and fiddle with the lace edges of your panties, pulling the elastic material away from the crevice of your thigh only to let it snap back into place like a broken record that wouldn’t stop skipping. Wanda squeezed your hand occasionally, reminding you of her steady presence beside you on the couch, but even that did little to quell your racing thoughts as you tracked the way both Carol and Maria traced the outlines of your pebbled nipples through the dainty tank top adorning your torso and upper half. 

After a while, yet only midway through Coraline which nobody was really paying any attention to, Natasha grew bolder in her ministrations with your wanting body, and as a result, the flush plastered across your cheeks and ears became darker with bated arousal and humiliation. That soft, tantalizing touch on the insides of your thighs became curious fingers sweeping through your sodden folds, prodding at your aching clit and pressing against your wanting entrance that begged to suck her fingers in despite your greatest attempts to remain unbothered and unaware. You hadn’t thought it could get any worse, any more humiliating, but just as you got used to Natasha’s cold touch against your hot cunt desperate for relief, she retraced her fingers, instead holding them up to the light for Wanda and her friends to marvel at. 

As she pulled her fingers apart, revealing stringy ropes of warm arousal clinging to her knuckles and the pads of her delicately scarred fingertips, a whine of mortification fell off of your cat clenched tongue and into the air thick with tension and lust, though like before and every minute since both Carol and Maria had stepped inside the apartment, you were ignored entirely by the onlookers who caught a glimpse at your most vulnerable headspace typically reserved for Wanda and Natasha exclusively. “Well would you look at that. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the little slut likes being shown off.” 

A pitiful whine fell off of your lips as Natasha rubbed her fingers together for everyone in the room to see, making an extravagant show of your glistening moisture that dirtied her fingertips. Your face fell into Wanda’s chest on instinct, seeking protection from the dramatic show Natasha was putting on for her own entertainment, however that was hardly allowed, and mere seconds after you settled with your face against the breasts of your younger girlfriend, her fingers were tangling into your hair and pulling you upright, demanding you watch as Natasha unravels your autonomy, reducing you to nothing but a slut for her friends to ogle; and shamefully, it was turning you on more and more. 

A startled gasp fell off of your lips when Maria came closer, leaving Carol behind on the loveseat adjacent from the couch you sat cuddled into, and stalked up to Natasha with slow, calculated strides of maintained authority. She had always radiated a gentle energy, someone that you found comfort and ease being around whenever you visited your girlfriends at whatever Shield base they occupied, but as she stared down at you, traced the evidence of glistening moisture on the insides of your thighs and snickered to herself when she found that telling patch of darkness on the center of your panties, she’d never appeared more dominant, and your heart lurched in your chest at the prospect of misbehaving in her company. 

When her lips wrapped around Natasha’s fingers, cleaning them off without so much as a grimace as she let the taste of your arousal sink into every taste bud on her tongue, a blush so dark it nearly burned your skin crept down your neck and provoked tingles and goosebumps to rise along your spine and in your belly where that coil of anticipation grew bigger and bigger each time Natasha humiliated you further. When Maria moaned softly, only pulling off of Natasha’s fingers because she couldn’t contain the laugh that bubbled over in her chest as you squirmed and whined with impatient humiliation, you nearly melted into the couch entirely, not sure what was worse; being beneath her heavy, pointed stare, or watching as your girlfriends shared your intimate sweetness with their friends. 

“My shy girl. Why are you pretending that you don’t like this, huh? Your pussy’s aching for Natty to touch you, and yet you’re pretending to be my shy girl like you don’t want her to make you cum for Carol and Maria to see.” Wanda coaxed tantalizingly, her fingers ghosting along your chest for the first time that night, taking an interest in your pebbled nipples that pleaded for attention just as Maria sat back on the couch with Carol, being abruptly pulled into a searing kiss that conveyed passion and intense need. 

Between the sharp sensations of Wanda fiddling with your pebbled nipples, pinching and pulling and twisting, your eyes remained locked on Carol and Maria who seemed to be lost in the whirlwind of their passionate makeout session. You hadn’t known that they were an item, wouldn’t have suspected it even if the signs had been laid out in front of you, but they moved together so cohesively, it couldn’t have been the first time they found themselves in this position. It was most definitely the first time you found yourself in this position however, and you couldn’t stop the involuntary whine that clawed up your throat and forced its way out when they finally pulled away, a lust drink smirk on Carol’s lips as she practically undressed you with her eyes. 

“You’ve been holding out on us, Romanoff. I didn’t know your girl was so sweet.” Carol’s lips curved with dominance that hadn’t been traceable when Maria had tangled her long fingers into her short blonde locks and tugged so aggressively you feared Carol may recoil from the kiss in momentary pain, but as she sat on the loveseat that you had spent many nights cuddled up on, she looked absolutely dominating with her icy blue stare and sharp jawline. 

“She’s the sweetest, isn’t she?” Natasha’s eyes glimmered with dominance as she turned her attention to you, fully focusing on the pink hues that formed along your cheekbones and skin, marveling at the glaze of submission that had come across your eyes since she’d first denied you access to the wardrobe in your shared bedroom. “Why don’t we take these off, show Carol and Maria how wet you really are for me, hm?” There wasn’t much of a question in her softly uttered words, but there was enough grace given that you knew you could back out at any moment. You declined that subtly placed offer, though your embarrassment didn’t lighten any. You couldn’t explain the strong feelings turning your blood into butterflies, but despite being utterly humiliated, you were beyond turned on. You wanted Natasha to continue to condescend you, you wanted Carol and Maria to watch as she unraveled your walls and brought you through a glorious episode of bliss and pleasure. You wanted to know that despite sharing the sight of your body with two people that you trust most in Wanda and Natasha’s tight knit circle, that you were truly only theirs to have. 

When your panties came off, you tried not to watch as Natasha playfully flung them across the room in Maria and Carol’s direction, or how the Commander grabbed them without batting an eye and inspected the dark patch adorning the center that had laid so snugly against your weeping entrance. You shuddered in anticipation when Natasha pried your legs open just the slightest bit more, draping one of your naked thighs across her material covered lap, opening you up for eager eyes to search. You whined when her fingers swept through your folds again, although this time, she didn’t spare her touches like she had been. Her fingers fell onto your clit heavily, rubbing rushed tight circles on your pebbled bundle of nerves that pleaded for attention and relief. 

When Carol commented about wanting to taste you herself, Wanda’s ministrations on your nipples seemed to double, fueled by possessiveness that was intimidating and unspeakably arousing, and through a haze of intense pleasure that was sparking through your body at various places, you just barely recall her telling Danvers to remember the agreement at hand. Her possessive touch lit your body up, and before you could comprehend the desperation that was truly turning you into a mindless slut for two of the most powerful and influential people in the world to witness, your hips searched for more from Natasha in desperate twists and pathetic reaches. 

“How long do you think it’ll take me to make the little slut cum?” Natasha wagered, her smirk devious as she stopped rubbing tight circles around your clit without so much as a warning that you were about to lose what you’d been begging for all night, her eyes trained on Carol and Maria, paying no mind to the way you babbled and sobbed for relief, having been seconds away from an orgasm that was now ebbing away into the abyss. Desperately you fought for her attention, arching your hips up against her hand, attempting to gain back even an ounce of the pressure she had been providing, but Wanda’s arms snaked around your waist and pulled you back before you could succeed. 

“A minute.” Carol laughed, her tone painfully condescending as her eyes traced the gleam of arousal that had marked your skin with glistening moisture, your pussy on full display as Natasha unintentionally spread you farther, giving both Danvers and Hill an extraordinary sight of your pulsating clit and weeping hole that was desperate for any ounce of attention. 

“Fifty six seconds, but nobody's counting.” Maria’s response was dry, laced with infectious dominance that was spurring Natasha on to be better, harsher. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when two fingers sunk into your cunt, enveloped by velvety walls that squeezed her knuckles tight. There was no time to grow used to the stretch as she worked you open, but it felt so good you didn’t care. 

Her thumb found your clit again, and relentlessly she worked you back up towards that orgasm you’d been desperately chasing. Wanda’s fingers didn’t stop pulling and twisting at your nipples, but at some point, she’d pulled your top low, trading in thin fabric for warm flesh. You hardly flushed when you realized all of you was now exposed to Carol and Maria, so desperate for an orgasm that you let it fade away entirely. Strained whines and pleads fell off of your lips as Natasha worked you closer and closer to a blissful orgasm embarrassingly quick, but she kissed your insecurities away as she mumbled for you to let go, to let her make it all better. 

“Shh, there we go. There we go, pretty girl. Making such a mess for me. It’s okay.” She coaxed softly, pecking your lips multiple times as she withdrew her fingers, quickly finding a blanket to throw over your body, no longer wanting you visible to her closest friends who seemed to understand, and didn’t comment on her quickness to cover you up. 

“Forty seven seconds. Impressive.” Maria taunted lightly, her smile dazzling as she flashed you the softest look you’d ever seen her give. You blushed, hiding your face in Wanda’s chest as she allowed you to get comfortable, seeking out her tender affection that she would never dream of withholding. “Where are you going?” Maria narrowed her eyes at Natasha when she noticed the redhead itching to rise from the couch, her arms slowly falling off of your still trembling frame as you leaned heavily against Wanda in post-orgasm bliss and hazy submission. 

“To get her a water?.” Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed as she found herself explaining the routine steps to your preferred aftercare scene that she had engraved in her mind like a sacred text since starting her relationship with you, but Maria merely scoffed and stood up herself, tenderly handing your panties back to Wanda who took them appreciatively. 

“I’ll get her some water. You make sure that she’s okay.” Was her affectionately mumbled response. You didn’t really pay any attention to Natasha easing your panties back up your legs, or Wanda softly fixing your top over your breasts, but by time Maria returned with a glass of water, you were dressed and snuggled into Wanda’s lap contently, holding tightly to Natasha’s hand, just barely able to focus on the credits rolling across the screen.  

“Thank you.” You mumbled to Maria when she passed the water off to you, smiling encouragingly before she took a seat next to Carol again, seemingly unphased by what had just happened, although it did ease the knot of anxiety in your belly. Nothing had changed, they didn’t see you any differently, and if anything, these were the best post-scene cuddles that Wanda had ever given, partly because her possessiveness fueled her need to hold you tight and stake her claim despite there being no threat. 

“What do you say we watch Halloween Town?” Carol mused, seemingly just as eager to assure your comfortability as Maria, to which you were beyond grateful for. 

“Twitches. Someone thinks it’s fun to watch witch movies and compare everything about them to me.” Wanda giggled, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head, silently settling the question of which film would be the one that you all agreed to pay attention to. Maria agreed easily, fighting Natasha for the remote and winning, victoriously scrolling through your streaming platform until she found what she desired. 

“I love you.” You mumbled to Wanda, slouching against her chest as your attention drifted between her soft touch and the opening scene beginning to play at a low volume. 

“I love you too, baby. So much more than you’ll ever know.”

[tahliafox]

Can't Stop.

Natasha Romanoff x Reader.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, Mommy!Nat, choking, spitting, slight clouded consent that turns into clear consent, dumbing down, scissoring.

Word count: 2992

The window was open ever-so-slightly, but every word spoken and every noise made seemed to ring within Natasha’s ears. Everything was you, all her thoughts were just you. She could frame the way you were laying on your stomach on the grass, leaning on your elbows so you could continuously flick the page of the Oxford Classic in your hands. Little stars shimmered in your eyes from the sun, you’d been out there for hours so it had moved to shine directly onto your face - how you could see Natasha did not know, but she was oh so thankful for the clear view of you front on because the tank top seemed to shimmy down just enough to have a clear view of your cleavage, and with your arms pushed together Natasha was practically drooling. The white linen shorts you had on had ridden up as you fidgeted from the itchiness of the floor and she could see - if she looked hard enough- the little indents of grass blades pressed into the sides of your thighs. 

She stared at you intently, drying a porcelain plate with a blue-chequered towel had become a mindless movement- as had everything else dissipated in her brain because,  oh God , your lacy white bra was just peaking above the pretty pink tanktop you were wearing and her mind was spiralling. Your father stood besides you, looking down, talking about something that caused your brows to furrow into confusion and look away from the book you were reading - Roxanna by Defoe. 

Natasha put down the plate that was completely polished at this point, cleared her throat and brought a bitten-red lip between her teeth. If your father wasn’t standing there she would have taken the silver digital camera on the kitchen shelf and started treating you like her little model, positioning you in all the poses that were flashing throughout her mind. Pricks settled in her stomach as the realisation that you still lived with your father sobered her dirty mind. You were a teenager, at only 19. Not even that, you were her best friend's daughter. 

Steve’s daughter. 

She’d only met you last year, why he kept you a secret from her she would never know but it was certainly a good idea. The corruptive thoughts that clouded any rational judgement being able to form in her mind had slowly gotten worse, and worse as she got to know you more. The first time you’d stayed round Natasha’s was practically a test of self control for her- which she’d partially lost from stealing a pair of your lacy, baby-pink underwear and keeping them for activities she hoped only you’d imagine her doing. Not that she’d admit to anyone, but the sheets you’d slept in were never washed, nor used again, and sitting in the same house that you now lived in. The thought of setting up a camera in the spare bedroom was maybe a thought too far in her head…  she only wanted to see you.

After her and an ex-girlfriend broke up she moved away from the tower and stayed with Steve in his countryside retirement house- the fact that you also lived there totally had nothing to do with it. With every week you got more comfortable with Natasha, the naivety of her actions never faded. Consistently testing the boundaries, she’d sit so close to you as you watched a movie, when she’d talk to you her hands always found a way to your thigh, or shoulder, or neck, or any skin she could see. Steve never thought anything of it, after all you were both girls- for all he knew Natasha was much of a motherly figure to you.

Rolling over onto your back, completely abandoning the book in your hands, a loud, exacerbated sigh left your mouth - stopping Natasha’s whirling train of thought.

“I told you I had to go away for the week! I cannot help that.” Steve spoke sternly. 

You groaned and threw your hands over your eyes to finally shield them from the sun. a smile creeped up on Natasha’s face at your teenage ignorance. Your movements seemed to freeze for one second and you arched your back to look at Natasha in the window upside down.

“Natty! Come here please.” You spoke so sweetly, with a menacing grin on your face. She immediately stepped out onto the patio and went to stand in the shade. Steve smiled at her sheepishly, then looked back at you. 

What on earth you were going to ask her, she did not know. Nonetheless, she’d do it with no hesitation.

“You’ll be here to take care of me, right?” You sat up onto your ass and asked, giving Natasha your best puppy-dog eyes. She blushed so obviously, then walked over to stand behind you. You lent back onto her shins and looked up at her as she looked directly at your father. 

“Not quite sure about that, my love. Maybe I'm going with Steve.”

You gasped and lent away from her.

“How dare you!” You stood up. “I cannot be here all by myself, I beg… please you know I hate the dark.” You whispered the last bit only to Natasha. 

And of course, two days later Steve had gone and you and Natasha sat comfortable in the living room watching TV. The idea of going with Steve to visit the squad never even crossed her mind. A movie that Nat had let you pick was playing in the background. Recently, you had been obsessed with Cate Blanchett so you picked Carol. It was an innocent choice, knowing nothing about the movie itself. Natasha, however, knew everything about it… the sheer glee that ran through her when you brought it to her was slightly shameful.

A pale, thin hand slowly stroked a pattern on your thigh, red acrylic nails tracing forwards… then backwards, then down to the inside of your thigh, then back up onto your knee, then over and over again. A soft flutter beat inside your ears, cheeks flushed a continuous red and little breaths kept pattering out your nose. If Natasha had any idea the way her hand was affecting you, you were sure she would laugh at you.

The pattering of the rain on the window matched your heart beat, fast and irregular. Summer showers were common, and you knew that within the hour there would be some thunder. 

Natasha had her hair in a loose bun, pulled through the hair tie and just left in a knot. It was like silk anyways so Natasha probably had no worries of it becoming tangled, you could tell how soft it was from the way little face-framing pieces fell against ivory cheeks. Her freckles seemed to stick out more today from a rosey-blush against her cheeks, when Nat removed her makeup it must’ve irritated her skin a little.

She was sitting there so beautifully, and… God her hand was on your thigh, and you were hardly breathing, and if you could you knew she wouldn't want you, there was no way, and oh my god were you a pervert thinking of her hand like this, and you were wet, so, so wet and she was just sitting there so innocently, so motherly-

“What's up?” the groan of her joints was practically audible as she turned to face you, interrupting your slow cascade into a swoon-induced panic attack. She figured it out, she totally must have figured out what a creep you were-

A soft hand groomed its way through your hair. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”  Natasha soothed, her voice dripping with honey. 

The juxtaposition of an empty house and a motorway in New York was personified by your racing mind and the words coming out of your mouth. Why was it  so hard  to form some sort of coherent sentence? 

Natasha just waited patiently, somehow she knew that something was up, maybe your dad being away freaked you out, or the movie was too much. She tried something that, dear lord, did not help the situation.

The hand that was once stroking your thigh scooped around the underside of both your legs, pulling them across her own lap. She guided your head to lay against her neck, resting her own on top of you. A loving kiss was pressed against the parting of your hair, and in that moment you stupidly wished you were bald just so you could feel the tenderness of her lips against your skin. 

“You don’t need to talk to me if you can’t. I promise I understand, my sweet girl. I’m right here, ok.” as she said the latter of the sentence her hand pulled yours against her cheek, framing her face as to prove that she was, in fact, right here. And she knew you understood by the way you nestled into her without response. 

This stayed fact for a while, your eyes barely staying open as you fell into a comfort-induced sleep.

Natasha was restless watching you. The wrong message had gotten to her head, that maybe her hand on your thigh was not a comforting movement, but something that made you uncomfortable. Pulling you into her, and forcing you to sink into her was the only way she could think of avoiding the possible confrontation. 

Of course, to you, it was not force, nor was it unease you were feeling from her hand, but a heat inducing bother in between your legs. 

Your thighs tightened against Natasha’s chest, and she moved her hand to rest just above your forehead. She fluttered gentle kisses against your hair, then your forehead, then nose. God, your skin was so soft. Natasha’s heart picked up and immediately she was hot. Eyes squeezed tight together and a strained breath was brought through her nose. The vanilla musk of the sweet, innocent perfume that you wore everyday was sucked into her veins. 

She couldn’t stop.

The kisses got wetter, pecking your cheek over and over, so quickly. Her tongue started to get involved, she licked down to the corner of your mouth and pecked there some more. If the older woman's head wasn't absolutely deluded with a sheer need to keep her lips over your hot skin she would be concerned about how rough she was being. 

You were asleep, it kept her going. 

It was finally when she had to shift her whole body to get at you when you were woken up. Something wet and sharp was digging into your neck, your body convulsed away but Natasha was strong, so strong, and there was no way that you could shift away. She was not forceful, nor would she be, but to the older woman you were still asleep. A soft groan came out of her mouth, so close to your ear and you realised what she was doing.

Her teeth were sinking into your neck, and there was surely a hickey there. 

A shrill, scream-like moan came out your mouth, and Natasha whined. Oh god, you were awake. 

She still couldn’t stop. 

Her hands were gripping your thighs, leaving white rings where her fingers were clutching at you. And, god she kept going -licking, sucking, doing everything she could at the grove of your shoulder. The red, blood-splotched mark that she saw did not foster her self control, her mark was on you. On her baby. The moans coming out her mouth were nothing but desperation, dripping with need. 

You had to be dreaming, there was no way this woman was keening into you like she was. Her forehead was sweaty, and there was sweat sticking on her back from the adrenaline that was going through her. Natasha was finally on you, she was all over you and she was not going to get off.

“Natty, what… what are you - oh my god” Her teeth sunk in another spot and your hands gripped into ginger hair, “please, I dont- Nat!” You were moaning in an out of breaths and words and by some miracle she was able to pull away. 

Calloused, rough hands cradled your face. Her sweat-dripping forehead came to press into yours and her eyes were locked shut. She was panting like an animal and all you could do was stare. She’d moved you so you were laying underneath her against the couch, her body locked against yours.

And the movie- oh God the movie was still playing and if Natasha turned her head she’d realise that the scene where Carol and Therese are together for the first time was about to come on and the room would fill with moans other than hers. 

“Baby.” She whispered like a dirty secret. You nodded. “Tell me to stop, baby. I’m sorry. Tell me to stop and I will. You need to tell me”

Her lips started pecking at your lips. You wanted to beg her not too, please don't stop, don't ever stop, but the words didn't leave your mouth. You parted your lips to draw in some air as you were suffocating in the need that was reverberating off of Natasha but all this did was give her the opportunity to properly kiss you.

Her tongue swiped at your lips and her hands squeezed your face together tighter. Another shrill moan hit the walls, but it wasn't you. If anyone was listening to Natasha without realising what was happening, they’d think she was overdosing by the noises she was producing. All she needed was you.

“Baby, you need to tell me to stop.”

Her tongue was in your mouth again and you sucked at it, she could’ve come. 

And she couldn’t help it.

“My dumb, little baby. Tell mommy to stop.” Her voice was so sultry and low. The words were hush against your lips and your eyes closed with a sharp moan. The title hit you and your hands gripped at her biceps. 

“Mommy.” You moaned. She nodded her head and kissed at your mouth again.

“Oh, fuck- baby… say it again.” She moved her hands off your cheeks and started to unbutton the shirt, her shirt, that you were wearing. 

“Please don’t stop, mommy. Please, please, please.” You begged, over and over. She kept nodding and whining. The buttons were too much, so she just ripped the shirt open and got you undressed underneath her. Her hands were on your skin, and she still couldn't stop. She wouldn’t stop.

“My dumb little girl, keep begging mommy. I’ll give you whatever you want, baby. Anything.” 

You kept whining and begging, she had to lean away from you to get her shorts and tank off- you took your underwear off yourself. It felt like forever, but her hands were back on you again and you forgot she ever left. Her words clouded your head, consuming you entirely. 

“Come on, baby. Talk to me.”

You stayed silent, unable to form a thought and Natasha smiled down at you condescending. 

“Oh, is my little angel to dumb to talk?” She cooed. “You just need your mommy don't you. You need me to tell you what to do, huh? Oh, sweet girl.”

She got back on top of you, and oh dear was she wetter than you were. Her cunt pressed against yours and both your eyes shut. Her mouth opened and she started rubbing herself against your pussy. Moans filled the room and you realised it wasn't just yours.

As her hand came and gripped at your neck, you turned your head to look at the television. Carol was going down Therese’s body, going to eat her cunt. You looked back at Natasha and she leaned forward into you, your tits pressing together. Her nipples were so incredibly hard and you could feel them against yours. A gush of wetness came in between your thighs and the older woman could notice.

“You like that, angel.” You couldn’t tell if she meant what you and her were doing, or what Carol was doing to Therese but you nodded. “I’m going to eat you out so good one day, mommy is going to make your body hers.” Your moans started to get shorter and higher as she humped against you faster, a hand cradling the back of your head so your foreheads were together again. “Maybe i'll do it when your dads home , make you all quiet for me. Are you a naughty girl for me, baby?”

You screamed and opened your mouth so she could get one of her hands to hold your jaw open. Her tongue licked at your lips and she spat directly into your mouth.

“Mommy needs to cum on you first, wanna cum in you, baby Oh, i wish i could cum in you, fill you up with me. Mommy needs to be in her sweet girl, make you all mine. You wanna be mine don’t you, all mine. Let mommy think for you.”

You were so close- her words only spurring you on. “Want you to fill me up mommy. Wanna feel you inside me.” You choked out. 

Natasha was close as well, her body was convulsing against yours quicker, and even more desperate. “Cum with me, baby. Be a good girl and do as mommy says.”

Screams resonated in Natashas mind and she swore the orgasm that just hit her like a train would never end. Her teeth marked your forehead as she bit into you to try and curve the sheer overwhelming pulsing inbetween her legs. You were no better off, tears seeping through the corner of your eyes as you came against her pussy.

“Fuck, fuck- fuck. Oh shit, mommy is coming so hard. That's it.” She spoke you through your orgasm, one hand pressing against your lower stomach. “Oh baby, that’s it - keep coming for mommy.”

Your moans slowed down and she wiped the tears away from your eyes. “Such a good girl for me, aren't you? Mommys baby.”

[abbyromanoff]

14 DAYS OF KINKMAS MASTERLIST:

DAY 1: YOU’RE BACK, BUT ITS TOO LATE - Emily Prentiss

DAY 2: BETTER THAN HIM - Yelena Belova

DAY 3: VISIONS - Wanda Maximoff

DAY 4: OLDER - Wanda Maximoff

DAY 5: NEVER KNOW - Natasha Romanoff

DAY 6: DESIGNS - Natasha Romanoff

DAY 7: GOLDEN GIRL - Maria Hill

DAY 8: LET ME LOVE YOU - Agatha Harkness

DAY 9: MISTLETOE - Maria Hill

DAY 10: HOAX - Claire Debella

DAY 11: UNFAIR - Carol Danvers

DAY 12: KEEP QUIET - Emily Prentiss

DAY 13: HAPPY HOLIDAYS - Kate Bishop

DAY 14: DOUBLE TROUBLE - CarolValkyrie

[waltermis]

THAT'S WHAT WE'VE BEEN SAYING!

[sytoran]

home is where the heart is ★ n.r

— 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ;; 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 & 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇

in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)

pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader

chapter summary ★ twitter's sole purpose is for you to thirst over your wife, the beach is a good place to spend time with your kids, and ogle at your wife in a bathing suit, but not a great a place to have sex. (lesson learnt).

warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, hard stuff: beach sex, doggy style, cunnilingus, daddy kink, SO MUCH thirsting

word count ★ 4.0k (get fed gremlins)

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

*****

In tandem with Tony Stark’s spontaneity, Steve Rogers’ unending enthusiasm, and the fact that you privately owned close to twenty beach resorts in New York alone, the lot of you and your other friends had a beach outing planned for that Sunday.

After the astronomically long time it took to get your kids dressed, beach toys packed, picnic dinner prepared, and everything loaded into the car, five happy L/N-Romanoffs finally kickstart their journey to the Westview Surfers’ Beach.

“SAND!” Emilia roars maniacally, once the five of you step foot onto the sandy shore. She’s gone like the ocean breeze, sprinting into the distance, grains of sand flying everywhere.

“Sea! Sea! Sea!” Emilio is equally as excited, already by the tide of the brilliantly blue ocean, following its ebb and flow with scampering feet and delighted cries. 

“Careful, Emilio!” Marina says, holding his hand, preventing her over excited brother from falling over. You can see the way she laughs along, kicking up water with her slippers.

Behind your eager children, you swing you and Natasha’s interlocked hands as you casually stroll along the beach, giving her a sweet smile. 

The sand that crunched beneath your feet was earthen and dry, such a gentle hue of gold, almost as grounding as the bright smile your wife returned.

“You look heavenly,” you murmur, bringing up the underside of your wife’s palm to press a gentle kiss to it. She flushes prettily, the sundress she’s adorning doing wonders to her skin tone and curves.

Natasha returns the softness, pressing into your side as you wrap a firm arm around her waist, hand cupping the curve of her motherly hips.

“Oy, lovebirds!”

At the sound of a distinctly familiar voice, you and Natasha spin around with bemused looks. From a distance, you can see Tony with a flamingo floatie around his hips, waving comically.

Next to him, the regular gang is sprawled across three separate picnic mats, conveniently hidden from the sun under several large beach umbrellas. 

Pepper is fixing up Tony’s floatie, to which Carol and Valkyrie snicker at from afar. Thor is asleep on the mats, taking up more than half the area. Laura is busy reading, with Clint probably gone to find seashells for the sandcastle Bucky and Steve are constructing. The kids make a long human chain from the shore to the sandcastle, scooping up buckets of water to make a trench.

“Aunty Y/N! Aunty Nat!” Nathaniel squeals, dropping his bucket, running over and leaping into your arms.

“What’s up, you little rascal?” you ask, laughing as the youngest Barton giggles. Natasha ruffles his head, waving at Lila. 

Morgan, being the same age as Emilia and Emilio, is already chatting excitedly with them and kicking up a loud racket. Marina joins Cooper in attaining bucketfuls of seawater.

“What’s up, my favourite lesbians?” Tony calls out to you and Natasha with outstretched arms, comically ignorant to the death-glare Valkyrie shoots him. 

Natasha rolls her eyes in faux annoyance, strolling past him and brightening up animatedly to chat with the ladies. You pat Tony’s back sympathetically. 

Your attention flits to an impressively large sandcastle with a sculpture of a mermaid on top, hand-crafted by Steve and Bucky. Leaning closer to Tony, you whisper, “Why does the mermaid kinda look like you?”

Leaving him to splutter at his intentionally uncanny resemblance to the mermaid, with a seashell bra and an elegant tail, you look up to see Clint coming back with his arms full of seashells. 

“Hi, Y/N!” He greets distractedly. In the midst of his frantic haste, Clint’s foot gets caught on a stray rock —

And the rest is a scene out of a comedy movie. 

The seashells go flying out of his arms, scattering onto the picnic mat and spraying sand everywhere, Clint loses his balance and flies forward, outstretched arms knock into the sandcastle, and everyone watches in horror as Steve and Bucky’s great unfinished symphony comes crumbling down, leaving only the head of Tony’s mermaid untouched.

A quiet hush falls. 

Bucky and Steve’s faces are morphed into disbelief and heartbreak, and Clint trembles in fear with sand in his mouth. Tony shudders at his beheaded mermaid, the ladies have their hands over their mouths, and Natasha fights battles in order not to burst out laughing. Thor sleeps unperturbed, and even the kids' racket has died down.

“Well,” you announce, breaking the stunned silence. “Who wants to go surfing?”

*****

As Natasha lazes in a beach chair, away from the gory scene of Steve and Bucky dunking Clint in the seawater, she watches you with a budding fire in her belly. 

Standing on the sand so casually, you have your hefty surfboard tucked under one arm, and Emilio in your other. You’re speaking to him with a roguish grin, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, tinted sunglasses pushed up to muss up your perfectly tousled hair. 

“You ready to ride the waves, bub?” 

“Yeah! I’m ready!”

Your wife swallows, thinking she was ready to ride something else.

Natasha crosses her legs unsubtly. It was honestly unfair, how indifferently attractive you were, like it was a state of being instead of a practised art. 

Perhaps it was her love for you and the longevity of your marriage that warped her perception of sexiness, but when you were casually strolling on the beach with that chiselled abdomen on display, who was she to be blamed?

“Y/N!” Natasha calls, sitting up slightly. There’s a devious little idea blooming in the back of her mind, and she feels like taking the bait, just for today.

You look up at your wife’s beckoning, and smile widely at her. Setting Emilio down gingerly and calling him a “little rascal”, you jog over to Natasha easily. 

When you flick your hair back, it glints in the sunlight, and so does the sheen of sweat under your sports bra, defining the cutting edges of your abdomen. Natasha has the criminal urge to rip off your swimming trunks there and then.

Despite your obliviousness, Natasha is more than well-aware of the stares you’re getting from young women and married women alike, momentarily disregarding their boyfriends and husbands to gawk at you.

“Damn, look at that fine specimen!”

“Ryan, why don’t you work out more?”

“There goes my heterosexuality.”

You get feasted upon hungry eyes like a slab of beef, likened to your beefiness, but it only makes Natasha’s possessiveness skyrocket.

“Hey, honey,” you say, settling on a low and inviting tone that has your wife blushing. You crouch down next to her beach chair, holding her hand in a sweet gesture. “What’s up?” 

You’re close to her, so close, and she can feel the heat radiating off you, and your distinct scent, and the overwhelming senses of want and need are washing over Natasha like those tidal waves in the ocean.

But well, Natasha knew more than a few ways to rile you up too.

“I think I want to go surfing too,” she lies through her teeth, having no inclination to partake in the sport. Natasha fakes a pout all too well, knowing it’s one of your many weaknesses. “But the sun’s really hot out there, so I need some help with the sunscreen.” 

It wasn’t like she’d have needed it, anyway. Just like that and you’re sold, ever the gentleman and the golden retriever, digging for the sunscreen in the duffel bag.

“Of course, honey,” you reply readily. “Is it the Banana Boat sunscreen, or is that the kids’ one? Oh wait, we have the SPF 50 one, I think that’s—”

Words trail off comically when you look back up at Natasha, gradually dying down completely.

Your wife has conveniently slid off her outer layer of a sheer white blouse, leaving her in just a matching two-piece set of an azure bathing suit. The top piece is held together with thin pieces of string, accentuating her chest in a tight cradle. The lack of coverage shows off the dip of her hips and her soft curves.

Coherent thoughts in your mindwires get severed as Natasha plays with the string on her bottom piece, nearly flashing you as the material slides down ever so slightly. Your throat dries up as her fingers trail a path over her tummy and cleavage. She plays with another bundle of string that keeps her chest barely covered, and the irresistible urge rises within you to undo it.

“My eyes are up here, y’know,” Natasha murmurs, laying on her side and looking at you through lowered lashes.

“I know where they are,” you answer hoarsely, gaze still fixated on your wife’s enticing cleavage.

The sheer amount of bare skin that Natasha is showing off has your remaining fragments of sanity falling to pieces. There’s no point even trying to hide the tent in your pants, poking uncomfortably against the fabric.

“Gonna help me lather sunscreen?” Natasha asks with a silky lilt to her voice, turning over on the beach chair. 

You groan out loud when you see the curve of your wife’s ass on display, her rounded bottom barely covered by a few measly pieces of material, all held together by flimsy strings and nothing else.

“Mhm,” you respond brainlessly, uncapping the bottle and rubbing your hands with a bountiful amount of the moisture, clearly in excess.

You begin applying your wife’s sunscreen with overzealous eagerness and desire. Large hands spread unnecessarily widely as you gain coverage over the soft skin of her back, trailing up and down and smearing the white moisture over her soft skin.

“Oh, that feels nice,” Natasha says airily, a dainty little sound that causes your cock to twitch in your shorts. 

The line down the middle of Natasha’s back is emphasised as she tenses and relaxes it. Like clockwork, you begin massaging your wife’s back to release the tension in her muscles.

“Y/N…” The breathy moan she lets out is pure heaven, dragged out from the depths of her throat, then lifting to a higher tone that washes over you in a sea of goosebumps.

Of course, your faux masseuse skillset is just a simple ploy to grope and knead at Natasha. Fat spills through your fingers as you spread your hands across her torso, as Natasha whines softly.

It wouldn’t take a genius to realise that the heat building between the two of you was not just due to the heatwaves under the beating, unforgiving sun.

Your frighteningly quickly-growing arousal only heightens when Natasha feels that her back is done and flips over. Face-to-face with her hefty mounds, a round belly, and the blown pupils of viridescent eyes — you lose the plot completely. 

Deft hands fly to your wife’s ample assets, squeezing her hips in sinful amounts and staking your claim. “You’re so pretty, baby,” you mumble, face buried into the crook of her neck, subtly mouthing at her neck.

“Mhm,” Natasha whines in agreement, but it turns into a gasp as your fingers slip underneath the material of her bra, plucking at hardened nipples in merciless haste.

You press down onto her, flat tongue and sharp teeth, licking a broad stripe up your wife’s exposed collarbone to the tender column of her neck.

Before you can taint clear skin with raging-purple bruises, you’re pulled away with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You look back up to see Natasha gazing at you sternly. 

“Let’s try not to perpetuate public sex while you are the owner of this place, with all our friends present, and the kids building sandcastles no less than ten feet away.”

Much to your disgruntlement, these factors weigh in heavily and overpower your body’s built-in “pretty-wife-need-to-worship” mechanic. Now, your shorts fill up a lot more space than need be, your shaft pressing hot and tight against your left leg, clearly visible.

You grumble, hands still clammy with sunblock, the ghost of Natasha’s warmth still interlaced between each of your fingers. “You’re a meanie,” you sulk, lust-driven adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Natasha looks at you with a wicked smile. “And you’re too susceptible, darling. Now, where’s my flask? I plan on staying plenty hydrated before watching you rough it out against the waves.”

Clearly put-off by not being able to fuck your wife in your public beach resort, you flip off a little kid who openly ogles at Natasha’s ass, much to your wife’s horror.

*****

“I’M NOT BUILT FOR THIS!” Tony screams, arms flailing, as he rides a shallow wave. His firmly implanted foot adds too much weight on the front of his neon yellow surfboard, and the over-eager man overturns comically as the current rushes.

You laugh out loud, Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, surfing past Tony in a smooth motion. “Stick to the flamingo floatie, little guy!”

Valkyrie barely dodges the splash Tony creates, nearly falling off her own board. “Fuck off, you cunt!” she yells, full-chested and deadly focused on the tide. From a distance in the shallower part of the ocean, a reprimanding “Language!” can be heard.

Natasha’s wading in the shallower waters with Laura, while Thor had opted to sun tan on the beach while watching the kids.

As a large wave approaches, Natasha watches with intent. Upon your wife’s new found attention, you mentally prepare yourself, determined to impress her, and perhaps get revenge for her prior ploy.

You manoeuvre deftly, putting weight on your back foot to stabilise as you approach the wave head-on. Three… two… one. You add even more weight on your back foot as you go around the back turn while gaining speed, garnering energy like a coiled spring.

As the wave reaches its full height, broad and steep, your calves release with impact, propelling up the barrel of the wave like a spring. The surfboard moves in effortless motion, anchored by your back foot, navigated by your right.  

The second you reach the lip of the wave, you find the sweet spot to execute the backside tail slide. You rotate your wide-set shoulders, swiftly switching the pressure to your front foot. 

Your surfboard glides off the surface for a split-second, turning mid-air — there’s a camera-worthy frame of damp hair, stray droplets, and focused eyes.

You slide back down at an oblique angle with purpose and precision, like a scene out of a movie, locking eyes with Natasha as the wave crashes behind you.

“Damn, Y/N!” Carol hoots, looking amazed as you surf back to the rest of the gang.

“That was crazy,” Steve adds, resting belly-down onto the surfboard, strikingly adorable for a hulking man.

“Gotta admit, that was pretty cool,” Tony comments, his head bobbing above the surface of the water and his surfboard nowhere to be found.

You laugh along with them, attempting to explain the technical jargon of how you did it. But as much as you appreciated your friends’ enthusiasm, there was ultimately only one person you sought validation from. 

“Hi,” you say to Natasha with a stupid smile, sitting on your surfboard, having escaped the rest. 

“That was very sexy of you,” your wife wastes no time in stating, as if she wasn’t five millimetres away from flashing you and killing you with her sexiness. 

Natasha is stuck on the image of your damp hair flying into place like a scene out of a superhero movie, unbuttoned shirt flailing up to expose your defined back and abdomen, concentration flashing in your eyes.

“Mhm,” you hum lowly. Fire burns low in your belly as you ogle your wife in her bathing suit, pulling her closer by the underside of her thighs.

In a moment of indiscretion, your left hand slips upwards and undoes the knot on Natasha’s bathing suit, letting the material slip from your fingers.

“Y/N!” Though blocked from view of the others as it was underwater, Natasha lets out a breathy gasp and presses into you. Her cunt, already soaked before, gets even wetter at the intrusion of seawater.

“Can I claim my prize?” you ask heavily, hot pants against your wife’s ear, driving her wild with the way your fingers slip through her folds to encroach on her entrance.

In no time at all, two of your fingers are at Natasha’s cunt, feeling slick even underwater, and you push in—

“Group picture!” Steve yells from a distance, as you and your wife effectively leap apart in the water, the heated moment dissipated into thin air. 

But it lingers, the arousal, swimming in the back of your consciousness as you smile for a group selfie. Bucky’s arm is around you but you thank the heavens for hiding your erection under the water.

You can tell Natasha feels the same, eyes locking on you even after Steve successfully takes the group picture. (After many attempts.)

“I’m gonna go check on the kids,” Natasha finally says, gesturing back as if she was going to walk back to shore. She’s expectant, waiting.

“And I think I’m gonna go check with her!” you add, chuckling awkwardly, beckoning backwards with your thumbs.

“Okay,” Steve says disbelievingly, eyes glimmering with knowing and just a little amusement. Tony is much less subtle in his sniggering, and Clint looks horrified at the prospect of doing it at the beach.

Tony claps you on the back as you walk past. “Use protection,” he whispers, and you fumble out a haphazard response. 

*****

Turns out, you and Natasha don’t even make it to a completely secluded area before you’re half-undressed and panting. 

And maybe that’s half the thrill, hidden in a secluded beach cave, with regular people roaming around just outside. You’re pressed skin-to-skin with each other and tuning out everything else.

You groan as you snap the strings of Natasha’s bathing suit off, finally, finally. Teardrop tits bounce in place, shaking with the impact of how hard you jerk against your wife, unbearably uncomfortable in the constraints of your boxers.

Natasha takes mercy on you, helping you to tug down your Calvin Clein briefs, watching with heady arousal as your shaft slaps against your six-pack, red and raw and leaking.

“Hurry up,” Natasha whines, bending over and clutching at a stray rock, ass in the air as she exposes her leaking cunt to you. 

“Fuck, baby,” you groan, grabbing onto her ass and slapping it just because you can. You sink deep into your wife, warmth and relief enveloping you as you bury yourself inside her.

The first thrust is like heaven, feeling the pulse and push of Natasha’s walls as she accommodates to take your size, stretching to a familiar extent because you’d made a nest in there for yourself. 

The second thrust takes you there, an insurgent amount of slick coating your cock, flooding the path you proceed to pummel into. “Natty,” you whine, groping at her ass and pulling it closer to you, hilt-deep with no signs of stopping.

“Mhm, daddy,” Natasha moans, walls fluttering around you as you pull out, trying to stop your escape. But then you thrust forward, again, warm and full and deep, and your wife wails beneath you.

Natasha lets this velvet sound from her throat, silky and coated in honey as she breathes reinvigorated life into your arousal.

“Fuck,” you growl, rutting your hips with more rigour. Natasha whines, wrists suspended behind her back with one of your hands as you have your way with her.

“Baby I’m gonna come,” you gasp, virility cloaking the way your abdomen presses up against Natasha, left hand encircling her neck to bring your hot mouth up to hers.

You’re hardly embarrassed for how fast you’re barrelling towards climax, as Natasha is in much more of the same position. She’s panting your name, clutching at the rocks with hard sand digging into her feet. Your cock nudges and prods into her sweet spots effortlessly, the result of countless sex experiences.

“M-me too,” she responds breathily, breaking off into a whine as you press heated, open-mouthed kisses along the line of her back, tasting the salt and sweat on your tongue.

Pleasure blossoms in your lower torso, creeping up the base of your shaft and working its way upwards. Hot arousal overflows from its constraints, and your teeth sinks into your bottom lip as you come, quick and hot and messy.

“Oh!” Natasha moans, high-pitched and sensitive, as you pluck at her ruby-hard nipples. It only takes a few more thrusts for her to reach release, dripping down your cock and her thighs.

“Mhm, nhn—” As your wife raises in pitch and volume, you stuff three fingers into her open mouth, giving her something to suck on and remain quiet. You continue with gentle thrusts, feeling thick white liquid flow out the side of Natasha’s ruined cunt.

“Needa taste you,” you suddenly grunt, hips bumping into Natasha’s ass. She babbles her agreement, despite being half-conscious in a state of post-orgasmic pleasure. 

Easily, you lift Natasha and set her down onto the sandy shore of the beach cave, where the tide is low and washes over your feet gently.

It’s a change of pace, a gradual end to your savage ravaging, slow and sensual, where the water meets the sand. You lower yourself between Natasha’s spread thighs, lips slightly parted and dripping with need.

Natasha swallows audibly, right hand twisting into your tousled hair, looking at you through hooded eyes and lowered lashes. 

Words are left unspoken between the two of you, the tension speaking for itself, as you retain eye contact while lowering your mouth onto Natasha’s pulsing cunt.

You take your last breath of the fresh sea salt air and summer breeze before drowning in unbridled desire. As if making out passionately, you eat your wife out, switching between licking and sucking.

Poetry is written between the lines — the lilt of Natasha’s hitched breath, the crease of her thighs where your fingertips drag across, the shallow water that wades over your feet in a cool decrescendo.

Your head dips down once more, warm and wet, and the sun melts into the horizon, glazing golden and liquid orange. 

With your tongue lodged fully inside your wife’s pussy, marking your inability to breathe, and wide hands spread firmly over Natasha’s thighs, the two of you converge in saintly devotion, hushed worship falling from her lips.

“Please, just like that, please, daddy, please.”

Just like that, and the ocean swallows you whole, taking you under Natasha’s hold inescapably. Your name is said in a breathless cry, lilting and pronounced, and you shudder between her clenched thighs.

“Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“I think there’s ocean water up my asshole.”

“Yeah, I got some sand up my vagina too.”

*****

and that's chapter two of 'hiwthi'! how did yall feel about the introduction of the rest of the cast? i personally enjoyed writing the build-up scenes the most. (sunscreen and surfing!) and for those keen on expanding the family dynamic, i'll be building on that in the next chapter!

reblog or i will take 292857192 years to post the next part

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

[sapphosclosefriend]

~ Nerd! Nat Headcanons ~

18+ content. Minors DNI!

Based on this and this idea.

SFW

Nerd! Nat who is getting a degree in something like History in college and meets you at a party (strangely so). Her sister has begged her non stop to drive her to said party and her almost non existent social skills and the people there being from a completely different department of her school make it so awkward for her. But then she catches your eye, you start talking to her and the rest is history!

Nerd! Nat who is basically biologically averse to technology. It's not that she doesn't like it, her brain just doesn't comprehend it. She barely has a random old phone of Yelena's (who begged her to take it not to “embarrass her”) and the oldest, slowest laptop she touches only when she's forced to for certain school projects.

Nerd! Nat who is SO passionate about History. She's read every book (good and bad), gone to every convention, talked to every professor. It is her passion and at first it feels a little strange to her when you start occupying so much of her attention, but she soon gets used to it.

Nerd! Nat who speaks Latin and Greek almost fluently and always uses quotes in those languages. The first time she does it in front of you it is unconsciously and once she realizes what she's done she's scared about what you'll think of her. She blushes like crazy when you act impressed by her skill and ask her about it with interest.

Nerd! Nat who is a little shy but as soon as you give her an ounce of genuine attention starts yapping nonstop in the cutest way possible.

Nerd! Nat who straight up dresses like a grandpa and LOVES it. She's always loved going thrifting for sweaters and now that she does it with you she's ecstatic.

Nerd! Nat who has to speak at some sort of conference at school and is thankful she has a random suit she thrifted a while ago for occasions like this, because she is so engrossed in researching and preparing her speech that she would've never had the time to buy something. When you get to the event, wanting to support her, you see her wearing a tweed suit that doesn't really fit her right and is just a little too big, but she looks so cute in it you can't help but kiss her and hug her, unknowingly calming her down before her speech.

NSFW

Nerd! Nat who panics when you start sucking her off in her car one night and she doesn't tell you she's a virgin. She tries to hold it as much as she can, but the first time she hits the back of your throat she cums so hard her hips buckle, making you gag around her and making her cum even more (it's a never ending cycle with her).

Nerd! Nat who apologizes so much for cumming quickly but gets shut up by you kissing her because you think she's even hotter now.

Nerd! Nat who, as you straddle her hips while you make out still in the car, shyly asks you to do it some other time. She knows she wouldn't be able to control herself at all if she saw you riding her in front of her bare eyes and she's too nervous about having another “quick” accident. You think she's so cute and you end up just making out for the rest of the night. You understood what her actual “issue” was and you can't help but like everything about her more and more.

Nerd! Nat who soon gets addicted to your pussy. The first time you fuck in missionary she hugs you so tightly and buries her face in the crook of your neck while she ruts into you so frantically. At first the strength behind her thrusts shocks you a little, but her desperate whines right next to your ear soon make you smirk once again at how needy she is.

Nerd! Nat who of course likes tits, but is such an ass girl! She's embarrassed to tell you how much your ass turns her on, but you easily pick up on it (she's not as subtle as she believes). You start almost always riding her facing the other way, to give her a clear view of your ass and it takes her breath away every single time you do it.

Nerd! Nat who wants to try to fuck you doggystyle (because the view would be simply too good to her), but gets so desperate the second you start pushing back to meet her thrusts that you end up fully lying on your stomach while she pathetically mewls and ruts into you, begging you to cum around her cock.

Taglist: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox

[notanactressyayy]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𝐬𝐡𝐡... 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

pairing . Natasha Romanoff x virgin! fem! reader

summary . when she decides to make the move and discovers you had never experienced anything like that ever before, she plans the perfect way to put your fears away and get to see that side of yours for the first time.

warnings . smut! i am not responsible for your content consumption! — implied sexual abuse (from Dreykov), virginity loss, foreplay, nipple play, strap on usage, fingering, multiple orgasms, lots of praises, Natasha's incredibly hot russian.

notes . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. feedback is highly appreciated! <3

divider credits: @anitalenia

you had been waiting for Nat to come home from the avengers compound all day. she had told you Tony was making some updates on FRIDAY and needed the team's opinion on everything, so she stayed there a little longer than the usual.

you had to admit — it was never the same without her in the house. wearing her clothes didn't help as much as you thought, neither did Liho meowing all day as if telling you she missed her.

so your eyes perked up to the door as you heard the doorknob turning, eyes sparkling at the sight of Natasha. she was smiling.

most of the times she came back from the compound she had bruises and cuts from missions, and looked down and tired. so knowing she had fun with her team made your day a hundred times better. even if it was already midnight.

"hey, kitten," she chuckles and crouches down to pick the cat up as she runs to her, immediately nuzzling against her and meowing. "i missed you too,"

"i missed you too." you say quietly, Natasha's eyes immediately following the voice. she drops her bag on the floor and runs towards you, sitting on the edge of the couch where you laid.

"hi, dorogaya!" she places her hand on your cheek and pecks your lips, coaxing a little sigh out of you. her mouth then travels to your forehead to plant a kiss there. "i'm sorry for making you wait. but it was so fun. all i could think about was coming home and telling you!"

you giggle, seeing her so enthusiastic. you shift to make room for her on the couch and she adjusts herself so you're leaning on her chest now — Liho laying comfortably on both of you. "okay. tell me!"

"so," she begins, taking a deep breath as she became selfconscious about how happy she was. "Ant Man was there, and he was struggling with his pym-particle blasters and he became very very tiny. more than he should. and then, when Tony opened FRIDAY's device, he decided to tease all of us and entered there, tickling the artificial intelligence! she pretended to laugh, and Tony couldn't understand why everything he was trying to do wasn't working."

her laugh was so sweet, so genuine, that a sense of calm washed over you, everything was okay now, you were both okay. and knowing Natasha, having her happy was the best gift you could ever have. your arms wrapped around her neck, and you kisses the tip of her nose. "i'm glad you had a great day with them,"

Natasha's lips parted as she felt the kiss, her gaze locking with yours. she realized she had finally gotten rid of that feeling that something bad could happen anytime. she wasn't alert 24/7 anymore. now, she was home. with you. "i did.. and i have you now."

she carefully picks the sleeping cat and place her on the little bed next to the couch, then returns her attention to you. her hands travel down to your waist, fingertips sliding under the thin shirt you wore. you gulp, fingers tangling in her red locks and pulling her closer.

"i have you, now." you repeat quietly, before crashing your lips on hers.

the russian immediately melts against you, a faint groan echoing from the back of her throat, the vibrations going straight to your core. she carefully lifts you up and pulls you onto her thigh, allowing your weight to rest on her. you usually didn't have make out sessions, since she was with the others most of the time, doing missions. but you wouldn't let that opportunity slide.

the tip of your tongue darts out and licks her bottom lip, a silent plea for something more. she was surprised. she didn't usually see you making the moves. her lips part fully, welcoming your tongue in her mouth, as she returns the action. her tongue mingles with yours, slowly, wanting to make the moment last, but it wasn't enough.

her hand slid up your back, pulling your chest flush against her own. you whimper as the kiss deepens, body shifting and molding perfectly with her. this was getting further than you thought it would.

Natasha broke the kiss with a small gasp, shifting your positions and carefully laying you down on the couch. her body hovered yours, and her lips trailed kisses down your face, your neck. your eyes widened — in surprise, but also in panic.

"Nat," you breathlessly whisper, weakly grabbing her shoulders to hold onto her. her lips didn't stop, only seeming to be hungrier and hungrier for you. "wait,"

"no, krasivaya, (beautiful,)" she mumbles against your skin, pulling your body even closer to her. she didn't want to stop. "just let me, please,"

you take a deep shaky breath to try and calm yourself down. you knew Natasha, and that she'd never hurt you, so this helped. you carefully took her face in your hands, and pulled her head which was tucked on your neck back. she took a great look into your eyes, and frowned. "what's up, baby?"

"nothing, it's just.." you sigh. her eyes narrow for a brief second, then, a small chuckle comes out of her mouth. damn it, she saw the soft pink creeping up your cheeks.

"are you shy?" she inquires, raising her eyebrow. you got relieved as she suddenly got off you and sat on the couch properly, pulling you onto her lap again and wrapping her arms around your waist.

"it's not that." you shake your head and look down, begining to pick on your nails.

it wasn't shyness. you just had a feeling that would lead towards sex. and not that you weren't ready, you just never had it before — other than pleasuring yourself — and Natasha didn't know that fact, until now.

"oh..." she suddenly realizes what's going on. instead of getting angry, a smile tugs on the corner of her lips again. she looks at your face for some good seconds, before wrapping her arms completely around your frame and pulling you to her chest.

that reminded her of all the times she was forced to do something she had no idea of what it was, all the times she felt scared, felt dirty, doing something she didn't want to. god, she didn't want you to feel like that. she never wanted anyone to feel like that, ever.

"are you a virgin, lyubovmoya? (my love,)" her voice sounds extremely calm and tender that it makes you a little surprised. "tell me,"

"yes, yes i am." you exhale and lean your head on her shoulder, eyes fluttering close.

"okay. do you wanna keep it like that?"

that. the question you've been most fearing. usually, if it were anybody else, you'd say no. but Natasha just made you feel so safe, so loved. you wanted to take that step further with her.

"no, i don't."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

"just keep 'em closed,"

your soft giggle melts Natasha. her hand covers your eyes as her hand maneuvers you by your hip, inside the bedroom. she had decided to keep everything natural for you this day. no rushed things. but she couldn't be happier. you were trusting her with that.

"did you feed Liho?" you whisper as Natasha carefully places you on a specific spot on the room.

"i'm about to fuck you and you're worried about the cat?" she laughs, making you gasp. you playfully smack her shoulder.

"you!" you smile. her hand gets removed from your eyes. they immediately get dreamy at the sight in front of you.

Natasha was only in a set of lingerie. for the first time ever, you saw her. it was something she thought — in order for you to feel safe, she'd have to show you she felt safe with you herself. because deep inside, she was just another broken, insecure person.

your eyes scanned her body, trying carefully not to stare too hard, seeing the scars and marks that engraved her skin. your fingertips shyly reached for her, and she didn't stop you. in fact, her hands hovered yours as she slid them up her skin.

a quiet 'wow' leaves you, followed by a genuine smile of yours. you pull her closer, looking all doe eyed at her. "you're beautiful,"

"i wanna see you too," she looks down at you. "can i?"

"you can," you hum, raising your arms, a silent invitation for her to undress you.

Natasha's fingertips gently tug at the hem of your blouse, before pulling it over your head. you were the complete opposite of her. smooth skin, no battle scars like hers. she was quick to kneel down and tease the buttons of your jeans, wanting to see if you would stop her or not.

"please, Natasha."

she does as you ask and undo the jeans, letting them pool around you on the floor. she helps you step out of them, and hum as you're both now half naked. everything felt otherworldly romantic and.. safe. even if Natasha was trying her best not to ruin you right there, just by seeing you so soft, so.. vulnerable for her like that. she liked being in control for once.

so your eyes squeezed shut as she suddenly pressed her body against yours and pinned you back against the wall. "shh."

your breath hitches in anticipation, her fingertips slowly tracing up your spine and allowing her palm to rest above the clasps of your bra. Natasha's free hand moves up your stomach, her knee sneakingly trapping you against the wall between your legs. she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "let me, malyshka. (baby). i know what i'm doing, just relax."

"mhm," a little whine comes out of your throat, which makes her smile. she nods in encouragement and moves her mouth close to your ear, pressing a kiss on the spot under it.

"ya ne khochu, chtoby ty zhalel obo mne, detka, (i don't want you to regret me, baby,)" she whispers in your ear, and you have no idea of what it means. but something was right — the thin fabric of your panties felt extremely soaked right now. "so, i'll make you feel so, so good."

"please," you wrap your arms around her neck, pressing yourself closer. her skin felt better than you could have ever imagined against your own.

"i'm here." she reassures you, then carefully spins you around and lay you down on the bed. her hand that ghosted over your back undid the clasps of your bra, and tossed it somewhere else on the floor.

you're absolutely sure that it was not the cold air that made you shiver and that got your nipples hard. you gulp, breathing coming out in soft pants as Natasha's hands gently handled you, cupping your breasts as her lips pressed a trail of kisses on the valley between them. "you're gorgeous, my girl."

"you feel so good," you breathe, subconsciously leaning towards her hands. her thumb pinches your nipple as she suddenly latches on you, slowly sucking on your other breast, giving both of them the same attention. "Natasha."

the way you moaned her name, breathlessly like that coaxed a sound of her own. your fingers tangled on her hair to makeshift a ponytail, so her hair wouldn't get in the way. she released your skin with a pop and claimed your lips, kissing you like she never did before — as if trying to pour all the love she had for you in the kiss. you slowly got a handle of the whole thing. you reached up to take off her bra, and yet she didn't break the kiss. only when you got impatient, whimpering as the ache between your legs became unbearable.

"i need you," you murmur, clearing your throat, lips tingling due the intense kissing. "please, Nat. make me yours."

god, yes. she was never letting you go. not before, and certainly not now.

"i will." she says huskily. she moves, so she's straddling one of your thighs, but not putting her weight on you. "tell me to stop whenever you want to,"

her pointer finger put your panties aside and jeez, that was torturous. you didn't want that fabric there anymore. but she was teasing. but that all flew away from your thoughts when you gasped, her middle and ring finger suddenly entering your hole — thumb lazily rubbing your clitoris, all of that with one hand, her other arm resting next to your head to support her weight on the bed. you instinctively reached out to hold her arm, eyes embarrassingly rolling to the back of your head. being masturbated by someone else was so perfectly good, nothing compared to doing it alone.

"oh, my.." you coo, head falling back against the pillow as your breathing quickly got laboured.

"you like that, detka?" she asks, eyeing you down almost possessively, silently promising herself she would never allow anyone to see you like that, touch you like that ever again. she curls her fingers against your g-spot, making you nod desperately.

"yes, yes yes." you gasp once more, biting on your lip and bucking your hips up towards her hand. she could tell you were getting close, you made it obvious. "don't stop,"

"my, my princess. already gonna cum for me?" she gently teases and increases the pace, doing her best to get through your clenching walls — getting another pleasured moan from you. "that quick?"

"i can't.. can't hold it, Nat," your body suddenly shudders forward, shuddering gasps coming out of your mouth as your juices coat her fingers, as they fuck you through your orgasm. it was nothing new, yet sharing it with her was definitely something else. "fuck, fuck.."

"good job, baby." she carefully pulls your panties down and throw them aside, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "that's it. i'm so proud,"

you just laid there, feeling the whole adrenaline from the new experience, letting yourself be pampered by her kisses and praises.

"hold on," your eyes snap open as she suddenly leaves you on the bed and grab something on the closet. you could've never had imagined she had it before, nor that she'd use it with you, in you, someday. a strap on. "i'm not done with you yet."

what was supposed to make you scared, the size, just got you more excited. watching her put it on was the hottest thing you ever saw, made your heartbeat go to the moon and back. and it was already hammering since the start.

"do you want to back off from this?" she whispers, now sounding genuinely concerned. you shook your head, grabbing onto her shoulders and pulling her closer.

"no, no. i trust you." you weakly confirms and she smiles. she takes one of your legs and presses it against your stomach, knee to your chest, revealing your totally drenched cunt to her. she grabbed your hip with the other hand and positioned herself.

the first inches were just fine, but you could saw it did hurt as much as she pushed inside you. you did your best to suppress your groans, but she saw it hurt. she knew it did. "shhh.. just a little bit more."

her stomach and breasts pressed against yours and she leaned her head down close to your own, pressing her cheek against your cheek, nuzzling gently, giving you all the time you needed to adjust to the size.

you felt so.. complete. filled up, by the woman you trusted the most. your arms wrapped around her shoulders when you got ready. you were so lubricated that it didn't bleed, it was just a discomfort that was soon over. "move."

with the green light, all of Natasha's self-restraint disappeared as her hands held your hips, then she began giving you slow, tiny thrusts. to introduce you to the whole thing — which you quickly became addicted.

moans surely echoed on the room when the feeling registered. it was good. it felt amazing.

"go faster," you plea, holding her body tighter to yours as your hips tried and matched her movements.

"so eager," she hisses and quickens the pace, to a point the headboard was already hitting the wall. her strong arms hold you in place as she fucks the little remains of purity out of you. "all mine now."

the tip of the fake cock brushes deeper each time she pounds into you, as you both discover the depths of your body together, as just as this new way of coming you never experienced before.

the familiar pit in your stomach slowly built tighter and got ready to snap, and she recognized that. her hand slid between your sweaty bodies to stimulate your clit a little bit more, and you were sure you moaned a little too loudly.

"Natasha!" your nails dig into her skin, as a toe curling wave of pleasure washes over you, once again.

"that's it, dorogaya," she nods, slowing down and allowing you to savour the feeling, watching you fall apart. your cum soaked the silicone material of the strap on, and honestly, the wet sounds it made got you a little embarrassed.

you weren't aware of your surroundings anymore, only that Natasha leaned her weight on you and held you close, still inside you. she rolled over to pull you on top of her, and stroked your hair, hearing the little moans you made.

"you're so perfect for me.." she coos, carefully pulling out of you, making you hiss as the material dragged across your extra sensitive walls. "you took me so well, my girl."

"thank you..." you mumble, shifting just to bury your face in the crook of her neck.

Natasha didn't want to talk right now. and she wouldn't. she just pulled the blankets over the two of you, giving you time — to feel, to think, to recompose. she sighed, and a wide smile showed on her face. she was glad you couldn't see it, she looked so giddy, so happy and so proud. she did something right. once.

[wandascrush]

Ambushed

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x f!reader, Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Avengers x f!reader

Warnings: Fighting, injuries, punching, choking, ambushes, cursing

Part 3 to my DIWK series

Sick. Every morning you woke up sick. You should be used to it by now, being a double agent and all for a few months, but you never got over that distilled anxiety. Bottled up, saved for the quietness of your room at the end of the day. It settled like a cold, heavy, pit in your stomach. Too heavy to move or swallow, so it just sat with you. 

You remember being in therapy a few years ago, having this pretty blonde stare across at you from the comfy-looking leather couch, tapping her pen against her gray slacks and bouncing knee. “And how does that make you feel?” Her voice was light as if it was a suggestion more than a question. “The same as it always does. There’s no flavor of the month for this thing, it’s the same every. single. day.” You groaned out the last word. 

Therapy never worked for you anyway. 

You couldn’t tell if it was an emotional thing or the fact that you slept with your therapists nearly every time, but it just wasn’t your vibe. 

So now here you were, for one reason or another, gently knocking your head on the wall as you thought about the kiss(es) you shared with Agent Romanoff, and how her lips felt like the best place in the world. And also how stupid it was. How idiotic. Get semi-involved with someone on your team, especially when you’re a double agent. Sort of. More on that later. 

You checked your watch, five minutes till go time, your first huge mission with the team. The stomping of boots in unison was all you focused on as you and the rest of the team boarded the Quinjet, strapping in and resting your head against the cold metal. You breathed out heavily, trying not to focus on the green-eyed witch sitting next to you, jaw clenched and obviously uncomfortable. 

A few hours later the ship bumpily landed in a flower field, shaking everyone’s head a bit too much for comfort. 

“Peter, Y/N, and Wanda- you two will take the North tower and get the hostages out from Cell blocks A-C.” Tony went down the list calling out different groups for the other 4 areas that needed to be covered. “Last but certainly not least, Romanoff and Rogers- you’re blessed with my presence on this mission.” 

“Our fearless leader.” Steve groaned as he got up and walked out of the Quinjet.

Peter, shaggy brown hair, a nervous smile, and a spider suit on- that was the guy who was supposed to help defend you in case of an enemy ambush. And Wanda. Brown layered hair, bite with every word she said to you, and a red leather jacket- your other line of defense. Great. You might as well be fighting with your little brother considering the small age gap between you and Spidey. Truth is, you liked the kid. He had heart, and you felt bad for him too. Everyone treated him like a lost puppy, but you’ve seen him train. Peter’s definitely not as seasoned of a fighter as everyone else, but damn he did not give up. 

Your group was supposed to clear out cell blocks A-C of an abandoned prison, supposedly harboring kidnapped engineers. You kicked the first exit door open, gun in hand and a flashlight being held by Peter right behind. Wanda trailed slightly behind you guys, ensuring no one snuck up from the back. The stairs cracked and groaned with each step, and cold metallic air whipped through the large facility. You crinkled your nose at the smell. Making it up the stairwell safely, you were met with the boring site of rusty old cells…and empty. You looked around, opening up the cells, peering in, and stepping out. Where the hell was everyone? “You guys might want to take a look at this,” Peter called out, sticking to one of the walls and pointing at a sealed door in the corner. Oh. Without being asked Wanda stuck one of her arms out, encompassing the sealed cement door with beautiful scarlet swirls causing it to crack, and shatter. Behind it was a pitch-black hallway.

You looked up at Peter, shrugging, “Ladies first, you’re up kid. Lead the way.” 

He smiled…until he got the joke, “Sure Miss- wait what’s that supposed to mean?” 

Wanda turned away to hide her smirk from you, covering it with a cough. “Don’t mind her, Peter. She thinks it's comedy hour.” 

“Awh you think I’m funny witchy?”

“In your dreams, Y/N.” 

Peter jumped down from his spot, taking a step forward into the hallway and flashing his light around. It seemed to go on forever the longer you three walked, with no turns or hidden rooms. Just a hallway. Huh. 

Meanwhile, Tony, Nat, and Steve were walking the rest of the grounds exploring every nook and cranny. The last cell block, D, was pretty much empty too with light pouring in from the broken windows. 

 “It’s too quiet Tony.”

“Kinda nice right?”

“You completely missed my point on that, but okay. Quiet doesn’t mean empty it means-”

Steve cut in, “Hiding. Look at the door in the corner, it’s completely sealed off.” In an instant, Tony blasted it. 

One thing you’d learn about Peter Parker was that he talked a lot when he was nervous.  

“Did you know that the subways under NYC have been around for hundreds of years?”

Then you all heard it, the click-clack of slow but steady footsteps. You held your hand up, signaling silence and stopping your movements. The steps were out of sync and loud, not just one person but maybe two, or three. 

Your steps got closer, their steps got closer, yours got closer, theirs got closer, yours got closer, theirs got-

“FUCK TONY!”

“FUCK WANDA!”  

You all nearly shot each other to death thanks to your jumpscares. “I thought you were supposed to be in cell block D?” you asked him, quietly trying to stop the hum of your heart against your chest. 

“We were, but this tunnel led us here.”

“Yeah, same with ours.” 

Peter sat on the floor, arms resting on his knees,  “Okay so we all made it here but- where are the hostages?”

“We were gonna ask you guys the same thing,” Tony scoffed. And in an instant, it dawned on all of you. Oh shit. “AMBUSH- GET OUT OF THE HALL!” You all started running towards the entrance your group came out of, everyone following behind you. The floors started rumbling and the overhead of planes could be heard above you. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. All of you ran out of the cell block, barely in time an earth shattering boom sounded. All of you were thrown at least 20 feet onto the cement, hitting your head and skidding. Blurriness filled your vision when you tried to get up, stumbling to your feet and falling back down. You looked around and your breathing was ragged, it felt like a fire had been set in your lungs. Everyone was down. Nat- thrown into a wall from the explosion. Out cold. Steve- barely waking up. Tony- banged up and crashed into the ground but slowly got back up. Wanda- right next to you with blood dripping down her forehead. And Peter- shit where’s Peter? 

You heard him yell and when you turned around- there it was. An entire squad from HYDRA, at least 20 of them, marching towards you and the knocked-out Avengers. Peter,  Steve, Tony, and yourself regrouped immediately. And standing there, smiling happily, was Samantha. 

“Y’know, a simple explosion taking out the world's mightiest is really so disappointing. Kind of glad it didn’t work.” The leader of the group spoke first. You swore you saw his face before. 

“I’m gonna guess there’s no hostages?,” Tony stepped forward, raising his arm and opening up the blasters.

”This should be fun.”

In moments, punches, kicks, and blasts were out in every direction. Peter already knocked five senseless, Steve was working on his set, and Tony was-  well, Tony. Lots of blasting.Then came your turn, and taking out the four that had reached you was comfortable enough, aside from a few scrapes and the gentleman who attempted to pistol whip you. The real party came when Samantha stepped up to the plate, cracking her neck and taking her jacket off. “Y/L/N. We made this so easy for you, leave them in the cell block and you get out safely.”

“Yeah well, it would’ve been a lot easier if I had been aware of the fucking plan.”

“God, I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time,” she threw a right hook that cut you square in the jaw, and immediate pain exploded to your face. You tackled her to the ground, pinning her with your legs on each side of her waist, blow after blow to her face. Her nose was bleeding and she kicked you in the stomach. Samantha flipped you over and started pressing down on your throat, “I wish you had never come to Hydra- never come to take my fucking place.” Her grip tightened and you saw emptiness in her eyes. 

You tried to dig your nails into her hands, desperately grabbing at skin or anything painful enough. “- stop. We’re on the same team,” you whispered, kicking at anything. Fuck- you couldn’t even flip her over with your legs as much as you kicked and squeezed. Your eyes started to go blurry once again and your head was pounding too much for you to think. Then webs attached themselves to either side of her waist, picking her up and slamming her against the farthest wall. Peter quickly jogged over to you, picking you up and letting you catch your breath. 

“We need to keep moving, come on. They’re all gone.”

Everyone climbed inside the Quinjet after Peter webbed up all the HYDRA members, strapping them to the walls like Christmas ornaments. Natasha had woken up and was feeling fine, Wanda had woken up and fallen asleep on your shoulder accidentally. You tried to ignore the Black Widows' fiery gaze at the redhead who was asleep across from her, but the message was clear. Even though Wanda was a Grade-A asshole, some part of you felt bad for her. Maybe that was what compelled you to dampen a tissue with some water and gently clean the blood off of her forehead, or the way you checked her pulse every few hours. 

A whole day later once every Avenger had rested up and healed their sore muscles, you heard a knock on your door. “Y/N, it’s me. It’s Wanda.” You opened the door to find her in a matching hoodie set, cluttered with the words “Screw off.” She dawned a small smile, moving past you and sitting on your bed without a word. Hi there.  You sat next to her, conscientious of the space, and gently cleared your throat, “So, are you feeling better? You got hit pretty hard. ”  

“A whole lot better, thanks to you. It was nice of you to take care of me,” her hand touched yours softly. A gentle smile played on your face. 

“It’s what teammates do.”

Wanda gave you a silent nod. She glanced down at her lap as her expression changed. Apprehensive, she quietly spoke, “But I want you to know that I know. About you, your secret.” With that, she leaned down to your ear to whisper, “Sooner or later, everyone will know,” and left. 

Oh.

[spaghettiposts]

Window Crashin’

WandaNat x Spidey!Reader

Summery: Crashing into the wrong window at night proves to be the best mistake you’ve ever made.

Warnings: Very OBLIVIOUS reader, straight up stupid I can’t lie. Gay panics all around. Fluff

Word count: 1.6k

A/n: my first time officially writing for Nat and I think I’d like to continue so expect separate fics of her sometime soon.

Kraven had become an incessant thorn in your side, his relentless rampage ever since he announced “The Grand Hunt” in the heart of Central Park felt like a never-ending nightmare. One that persistently dragged on as the weeks floated by, each day a new form of tinnitus growing in your eardrums at the echoings of his horn. Falling once again into his endless game of cat and mouse.

Or in your case Kraven and Spider–with Kraven playing predator and you, the elusive Spider, trying to lure him away from innocent civilians roaming the streets of New York. 

Which wasn’t as easy as one would imagine, but you made do with what you had, brains over brawns. Clinging onto the hope that eventually, Kraven would grow tired of chasing and resign for the night, with the promise that he’d return. And so the cycle goes on. 

There were other options you could resort to, but those were last resorts, ones you only used if you were certain you couldn’t handle Kraven or in case of an emergency. In all honesty, you’re avoiding involving the Avengers, it’s really the last thing you want this to come to. A couple of broken ribs wasn’t an Avengers level threat.

You could handle Kraven by yourself perfectly fine, and nobody got hurt at the end of the day—except mainly your sleep schedule.

And now, as you swung through the thick chilling air on route to the compound; you were struggling to stay awake, the bruises littered across your body only making it harder to keep swinging. It wasn’t that sleep had ever been your strong suit, but now, it seemed like a distant luxury. The sacrifice of a hero came in many forms, and sleep deprivation was yours. 

Tony had sacrificed half his company in pursuit of a heroic lifestyle, hell, even Steve froze himself to save humanity. If humanity needed you to suffer from fewer hours in bed, then so be it. 

You fought relentlessly to keep your eyes from drooping and it only took the honking of a truck for you to jolt awake, merely missing out on the experience of being rammed by one. 

Shaking your head, you muttered words of encouragement to yourself, living on a prayer of making it back to the compound - in one piece. 

As the familiar building came into view, you let out a breath of relief you didn’t know you were holding. Taking a moment to gather yourself, you swung around towards the left block and homed in on your window, only to face-plant straight into it with a resounding thud.

You groaned against the pavement, pressing your hands on the wall to steady yourself before you could slide off. Silently thanking that radioactive spider for granting you the ability to stick to surfaces as you adjusted yourself, what the fuck?

A miscalculation on your part—or at least you pictured. Pushing yourself back from the wall, your eyebrows crinkled. Huh.

You always left your window open–had one of your teammates closed it off?

Assuming one of the guys must’ve closed it off, you didn’t question much, missing your bed and running on pure exhaustion to really assess the situation seriously. Gripping the sides of the window, you tried to pry from the outside, and after a couple of difficulties; you managed to unlock it, budging it open with a click. 

Finally, home sweet home. 

Your body toppled into the room first before the rest of your body crashed onto the floor, reaching an arm to shut the window behind you. With a sigh of relief, you picked yourself up, stretching your arms above your head, eliciting a satisfying ‘pop’ from your back, feeling all the pent-up tensions of the day leave your body. 

Pressing the button on your chest, making quick work of discarding your suit. You struggled more than you’d like to admit, having to hop on one foot to wiggle your feet out of the padding. 

Amidst your squirming, you failed to notice the crimson warps seeping from your bed, freezing mid-movement as the lights flickered on by themselves, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You screeched, scrambling up to your feet, firmly clutching your uniform in a poor attempt to cover yourself from the two women on your bed, equally startled.

“Y/n…? What are you doing here?” Natasha says after a beat of silence, her eyes furrowing as she lowers her gun and the arm protectively wrapped around her girlfriend. Wanda mirrored her actions and let the red wisps fall before she turned to you disconcertingly.

You shrunk under their gaze, feeling your heart pick up. It was too late to salvage any attempts at running for it, so you turned away, ignoring how affected you felt by their disheveled appearances.

Instead, you focused on why they were inside your room in the first place. Not that you minded having two beautiful women in your bed but at this hour? 

“What are you doing in my room? I just got back, what’s…” Your voice trailed off, slipping on your suit, as you looked towards your dresser…was it always that color? And why was there a photo of Wanda and Natasha on your nightstand? Sure, you were hopelessly in love with the two but never to this extent.

Barely bordering on those lines. 

“Detka…this is our room,” Wanda said slowly, as to not startle you. 

You cursed under your breath, realizing your mistake. “Aw fuck, I must’ve crashed into the wrong—wall-side thing,” you explained messily, picking yourself up for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. 

“Crashed?” Both of the girls shouted and you winced, scooting off awkwardly to the side, feeling even more like an intrusion. 

“Yeah but it’s okay though, that’s nothing compared to Kraven's fists, trust me.” You meant to reassure them, but judging by the worried looks they exchanged, it had the opposite effect. Taking their silence as an opportunity to leave, you stepped back.

“Anyways, sorry for interrupting your night.” You mumbled apologetically, reaching for the window handle. “I’ll see y'all tomorrow— son of a bitch.” You grunted, banging your head against the glass for the second time this night. You were really starting to resent these things.  

And Wanda bit her bottom lip, “Malysh, it’s late and you’re…not doing well, why don’t you stay here tonight?” She suggested softly, her voice coming out as sweet as honey and you almost dropped dead there.

“Here?” You blurted out, feeling a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. “Like, with you and Nat?”

Natasha and Wanda shared an amused look, before nodding in unison. 

Your face crinkled, not really understanding what the looks were for but you assumed it was all in your head. Sparing one last glance at the two, you confirmed this was okay, searching for even the smallest bits of hesitancy or discomfort only to find nothing but welcoming smiles. 

With a small nod, barely audible, you murmured a hesitant “alright,” as you settled into the chair beside their bed, placing your feet on the small wooly ottoman.

Had your eyes been open, you might’ve noticed the way their faces dropped in disappointment. After months of obvious pining, not-so-subtle flirting thrown your way, you were choosing to sleep…not with them but on a chair.

A brief silence lingered, and you shifted in your seat. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel their eyes piercing and you were starting to sweat.

“Sorry,” You mumble, heat rising up your neck in embarrassment as you removed your feet off the ottoman, fearing you had overstepped. Still, their gazes remained unwavering and you rubbed your arm unsurely, “Is the chair off–limits too? I can take the floor if that’s better.”

“Dorogoy, we’re inviting you into our bed,” Natasha chuckles disbelievingly, fingers tracing the covers as to tempt you with the invitation. 

“Mhmm, yeah no. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” You shook your head, stumbling over your words. “I don’t do well in confined spaces with pretty women, I mean— no wait you are, both are super pretty but that’s not—“ 

Thankfully, Wanda interjected before you could embarrass yourself further with a giggle. You swore your stomach flipped. “Cute, but won’t you get cold?” She suggested, Natasha nodding and lifting the covers, adding, “It’s much warmer over here.”

Again, you waved them off and they were starting to get fed up with your excuses. “Oh nah! My suit has thermal heating installed, pretty cool right? Tony helped me insulate it–”

“Y/n, just get in the bed.”

Before you could protest further, you felt those warm red tendrils wrap around you, coaxing you into their bed, and you couldn’t even remember why you were fighting this in the first place when their arms wrapped around you. Not when their sheets were so warm, and their bodies warmer. 

Resistance be damned, as Natasha's hand ran gently through your hair, you relaxed into it, and both girls smiled. This was how things needed to be, always. 

Still, your heart was beyond nervous to even enjoy the moment but they were pushing at your shoulders to tuck you in further, getting settled themselves. They tangled their limbs with your own and it was official; there was definitely no escaping this. 

Pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, Wanda murmured a couple of words and you felt more comfortable clothes encase you. Natasha pressed a tender kiss to the shell of your ear before bidding you a good night.

You repeat her words back and they tighten their grip, closing their eyes. 

With exhaustion finally catching up to you, your eyes drooped helplessly again, fluttering shut, bones begging for sleep, and you finally surrendered to its embrace. Allowing yourself a moment of rest with the two people you treasure most in the world. 

And suddenly, crashing into windows didn’t seem so bad after all.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

The Widow's Shadow

Natasha Romanoff x Enhanced! Stark!Fem!Reader

Summary: Tony and Pepper adopted you at 13 and now at the age of 18 a beautiful woman named Natalie Rushman walks into your life just as things start to heat up as your powers get displayed for the world to see.

Word Count: 10.5K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, just basic smut nothing crazy. R is innocent and it's her first time, Natasha at times refers to herself as Daddy, mentions of death (a car accident), R is orphaned,

A/N: I spent so long on this. It takes place during Iron Man 2 when Natasha is undercover as Natalie Rushman.

The lights in the room were dim, with only the boxing ring illuminated in the center. The rhythmic thud of gloves against pads filled the air, accompanied by the grunts and shouts of those sparring. Your heart raced as you adjusted the grip on your boxing gloves, the anticipation building up inside you.

Then she walked in.

Natalie Rushman. Or at least, that's the name she gave. With her fiery red hair, confident stride, and those piercing eyes that seemed to look right through you, she was a force to be reckoned with. She exuded an aura of mystery, and you were instantly captivated.

Your attention wavered, and in that split second of distraction, you stumbled. Your fist, meant for Happy, met nothing but air as you lost your balance. The next thing you knew, you were on the ground, your chin throbbing, and the metallic taste of blood in your mouth.

"Damn it," you muttered, spitting out the blood, embarrassment flooding over you.

Before you could gather yourself, Natalie was by your side, a small cloth in hand. The gentle touch of her fingers as she dabbed away the blood sent shivers down your spine. "You should be more careful, cupcake," she said, her voice dripping with concern and a hint of playfulness.

“Cupcake?” your heart fluttered.

"Yes, I'm just clumsy sometimes. Don't worry about me, uh..."

"Natalie. Natalie Rushman," she introduced herself, her lips curling into a warm smile that made your heart skip a beat.

"Thank you, Ms. Rushman," You managed to say, your cheeks burning.

As she was called into the ring by Tony, you made your way over to Pepper, your adoptive mother. Sitting down in front of her, you tried to regain your composure, your mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions.

"What is he doing?" You asked, trying to divert your attention from Natalie's impending spar with Tony.

Pepper sighed, shaking her head. "About to cause us a lawsuit more than likely."

You chuckled, the tension in your chest easing slightly. But as you watched Natalie effortlessly dodge Tony's advances in the ring, a newfound determination took root within you. You needed to know more about her, to unravel the enigma that was Natalie Rushman.

The tension in the room shifted as Tony and Natalie engaged in their intense staring contest. You couldn't help but watch, the air thick with anticipation. After what felt like an eternity, Tony finally broke the silence, stepping out of the ring with a smirk.

"Happy, spar with her," he commanded, leaving Natalie and Happy to face off. You couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and curiosity about this mysterious woman.

As Happy began to give instructions, Natalie's attention turned toward us. "Rule number one, never take your eyes off your oppon—"

Before Happy could finish his sentence, Natalie moved with lightning speed, effortlessly taking him down. It was a display of skill and strength that left you in awe. The intensity of the moment had a certain allure, and you couldn't deny the fascination that welled up inside of you.

However, your admiration was cut short as Pepper freaked out. You could see the concern in her eyes, contrasting sharply with Tony's impressed expression. It was clear that Natalie possessed a level of expertise that few could match.

As Natalie left the training area, Tony, sitting next to Pepper, turned to her with a grin. "I want one," he remarked, referring to Natalie.

Without thinking, you blurted out, "Me too." The room fell silent for a moment, and you became acutely aware of the disapproving glances from your parents—not because Natalie was a woman, but because she was about eight years older than you.

You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. "I mean, I want a trainer like her. Someone who can handle themselves like that." You tried to backpedal, but the amusement in Tony's eyes and the stern look from your mother told you that your slip hadn't gone unnoticed.

Little did they know, Natalie Rushman had already left an indelible mark on you, and the journey into the world of the extraordinary was just beginning.

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

The sun bathed the Italian Grand Prix track in warm hues as the three of you strolled into the restaurant for lunch. The aroma of rich Italian cuisine filled the air, creating a backdrop to the high-energy atmosphere of the race.

"Mr. Stark," her voice called out, and your heart skipped a beat. There she was, Natalie Rushman, in a dress that accentuated every curve, giving you a smirk that sent a wave of excitement through you.

"Ms. Stark. Hello, how was your flight?" she greeted, her eyes locked onto you.

"Good, it was excellent," Tony replied before you could get a word in. You fought to conceal the disappointment and joined your parents as they went to grab drinks offered to them.

Natalie took the opportunity to brief Tony about someone wanting photos of you three. You found yourself pulled between your parents for the impromptu photo session, the camera flashes blinding you momentarily. As the bickering unfolded behind you, you tried to maintain a composed façade.

"Stark, you're a magnet for trouble," Natalie quipped, her gaze never leaving Tony.

"Yeah, but I love it," Tony retorted with his signature smirk.

While your adoptive parents argued about the unexpected presence of Natalie, it became apparent that Pepper was just as surprised as you were to see her here. The tension in the air was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that Natalie Rushman was intricately woven into the fabric of your lives, bringing a mix of excitement and unpredictability. Little did you know, this encounter in Italy was just the beginning of a series of events.

The atmosphere in the restaurant was electric, filled with the buzz of conversation and the clinking of glasses. As you settled into the corner table, Tony's casual request for the specific seating sent Natalie off to make the arrangements. You couldn't help but watch her go, your eyes tracing the graceful sway of her hips with a sense of admiration.

'Damn, she's beautiful,' You thought, feeling a warmth spread through you. The age gap that had seemed so significant earlier now felt inconsequential.

You were lost in your thoughts when you felt Pepper's gaze on you. "Did you know about this?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

"No ma'am, Dad didn't tell me anything about this," You replied honestly, your eyes still lingering on Natalie.

Caught up in the moment, you decided to shed your jacket, feeling the confines of the suit weigh heavily on you. Beneath it, your black vest and light blue button-up felt more comfortable, hugging your frame just right. You rolled up your sleeves to your elbows, revealing the tattoos that adorned your arms.

You couldn't help but notice Natalie's subtle glances in your direction as you settled back into your chair, your posture relaxed yet confident. Resting your elbows on the table, you clasped your hands together, the pose unintentionally showcasing your tattoos and muscles.

You glanced over your shoulder, catching Natalie's eye. This time, it was her turn to look away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. The playful exchange sent a thrill through you, and you couldn't help but smile.

The restaurant's ambiance was suddenly punctuated by a sense of urgency as Pepper scanned the room, her eyes widening in disbelief as she spotted the TV screen. Following her gaze, you saw what had caught her attention—a news report showing Tony getting into some sort of altercation.

"Uhhh, Mom..." You hesitated, pointing to the screen, your voice tinged with concern.

"Oh, you've gotta be..." Pepper's voice trailed off, her worry evident. "Where is Happy? Natalie?" she muttered, scanning the room once more.

You shrugged, feeling a sense of unease settle over you. "I'll go check, see if I can find them. If not, I'll go stop him myself," You offered, determined to help.

Pepper's warning glare stopped you in your tracks. "No use of your powers in public," she whispered through clenched teeth, her concern for your secret identity overriding any immediate action. “I have enough going on with your father right now Y/N/N.”

You rolled your eyes, frustration bubbling up inside you. Shoving your hands into your pockets, you sighed, "Yeah, yeah... I know, Mom." The weight of your powers felt like a burden in that moment, the desire to help conflicting with the need for secrecy.

Walking away, you couldn't help but dwell on the constraints that held you back. You had this incredible power at your fingertips, yet you were forbidden from using it when it mattered most. The internal struggle was real, and you grappled with the complexities of your identity, torn between the desire to do good and the necessity of maintaining your carefully guarded secret.

The urgency of the situation propelled you to take action. Without wasting any words, you found Natalie just around the corner and swiftly grabbed her wrist. She reacted defensively, ready to strike, but you caught her fist with your own, feeling the subtle itch of your tattoos, a primal instinct to protect yourself kicking in.

"Just me. We have a situation," you stated firmly, guiding her back toward Pepper.

As we approached Pepper, Natalie's attention shifted to the TV screens displaying Tony's predicament. Pepper wasted no time in questioning Natalie's knowledge of the situation. "Did you know about this?" she asked, her tone demanding answers.

Natalie looked up at one of the TVs, a nervous energy radiating from her as she wiped her hands on her dress. "No, this is the first I'm hearing of this," she assured Pepper.

Concern etched on her face, Pepper inquired about Happy's whereabouts. "Where's Happy?" she pressed.

"He's waiting just outside," Natalie responded promptly. "Go get him. I need him."

Natalie rushed off to retrieve Happy, leaving you standing there, eyes fixed on the screens. "What are you doing, Dad?" You muttered, your left arm itching, a physical manifestation of the unease and frustration building within you. The unpredictability of your lives was becoming increasingly apparent, and you couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of the challenges that lay ahead.

"Y/N. Go, now. We'll meet you there." The urgency in Pepper's voice snapped you into action. Without hesitation, you sprinted toward the race track, your focus razor-sharp as you navigated through the crowd. As you passed Happy and Natalie, you shouted over the noise, "I'll meet you down there! Get to the car with Mom!"

Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you approached the unfolding situation. Every second counted, and you couldn't afford to waste any time. The man on the track posed a potential threat, and you needed to intervene before things escalated further.

As you reached the edge of the track, you assessed the situation, formulating a plan of action. The safety of the racers and spectators was paramount, and you braced yourself for whatever challenges lay ahead.

The air crackled with electricity as the man on the track wielded his arch reactor-powered tendrils with lethal precision, slicing through the race cars as if they were mere toys. Your heart pounded in your chest as Tony's car took the hit, flipping over in a terrifying display of destruction.

"DAD!" Your scream echoed across the track, the fear and urgency evident in your voice. Without a second thought, you vaulted over the fence, your tattoos coming to life, swirling patterns of black smoke enveloping the two of you as you helped Tony out of the wreckage.

"Dad, are you okay?" You asked, your voice trembling with concern.

Tony's resolve hardened as he steadied himself, his gaze locked on the mysterious man. "Yes, Y/N/N, I'm fine. We need to stop him. This isn't how I wanted your debut to be, but it looks like it's time. I'm going to get behind him and try to knock him out," he declared, determination burning in his eyes.

You nodded, the gravity of the situation sinking in. As the smoke began to dissipate, you positioned yourself as the distraction, ready to confront the man and protect your family. The tendrils lashed out at you, crackling with energy, but your tattoos responded instinctively, deflecting each strike with calculated precision.

The standoff intensified, the track becoming a battleground as we clashed with an unknown adversary. But amidst the chaos, a newfound sense of purpose surged within you. You were ready to embrace your powers, to stand alongside your father and defend your legacy against those who sought to harm you.

The screeching of tires and the roar of the engine filled the air as the car skidded to a halt, Happy and Pepper finally arriving on the scene. The sight of the man slamming into the fence was a welcome relief, albeit a brief one.

"Get in the car, now!" Pepper's voice cut through the chaos, her urgency driving you into action. You didn't hesitate, quickly climbing into the car as Tony and the man continued their struggle.

The tension inside the car was palpable, Tony's stubbornness clashing with the immediate need for safety. The man's relentless pursuit of the Ironman suitcase added another layer of danger, and you knew you had to intervene.

Seizing the moment, you grabbed the suitcase and hurled it out of the car, clearing the way for Tony to finally subdue the man in a climactic showdown. The sense of relief was overwhelming as the police arrived, taking the man into custody and securing the arch reactor.

As the adrenaline wore off, Pepper's concern shifted to you, her hands checking for any sign of injury. "Are you hurt, Y/N/N? Does it hurt anywhere? Are you okay?" she asked repeatedly, her voice filled with worry.

You tried to reassure her, but the repetitive questions only intensified the throbbing in your head. "Mom, I'm fine, really," you said, doing your best to quell her concerns.

The atmosphere in the penthouse suite was thick with tension and emotion as Pepper and you returned from the chaotic events at the race track. The concern in Natalie's eyes was evident as she greeted you, her hands gently resting on your arms as she assessed your well-being.

"You aren't hurt, right?" Her voice was filled with genuine concern, sending a wave of warmth through you. She cared, and that realization was both comforting and exhilarating.

"I'm fine, but thank you. I just need some Tylenol and a hot shower," you replied, trying to mask the lingering adrenaline and fatigue.

"I'll get both ready for you, Ms. Stark," Natalie offered, her voice soft yet reassuring.

Retreating to your room, you collapsed onto the bed, the events of the day weighing heavily on your mind. Your tattoos continued to shift across your skin, a visual reminder of the power and responsibility that came with your abilities.

Lost in thought, you were caught off guard when Natalie suddenly appeared beside you, her proximity sending your heart racing. Your eyes locked, and you found yourself mesmerized by the intensity of her gaze.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Her whisper was barely audible, the concern evident in her eyes.

Caught up in the moment, you found yourself flirting with the boundaries of your relationship. "I mean...my lips kind of hurt...maybe you could kiss them better," You teased, throwing caution to the wind.

For a moment, Natalie looked taken aback, the implications of kissing Tony Stark's daughter weighing heavily on her mind. But the pull between you two was undeniable, and she leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a soft, electrifying kiss.

The world seemed to fade away as the two of you lost yourselves in the moment, the electricity between you igniting a spark that neither of you could deny. In that instant, you realized that your feelings for Natalie ran deeper than you had ever imagined, and you couldn't help but wonder what the future held for the two of you.

But for now, in this fleeting moment, you were content to savor the warmth of her embrace, the promise of what lay ahead lingering in the air as your lips met once again in a passionate kiss.

"My parents will kill both of us if they find out about that." You say sitting up. The post-adrenaline haze hung in the air as you sat up, the realization of the impulsive kiss sinking in. As you took the pills and downed the glass of water Natalie brought you, she playfully remarked, "Good girl." A shiver ran down your spine at her words, a mixture of surprise and amusement at the unexpected response to a simple act.

"I'll keep that reaction in mind for later, but for now, your shower is waiting for you. I'd join you, Ms. Stark, but I think they'd realize I was gone," Natalie whispered with a mischievous smile.

"Y/N. You can just call me Y/N or Y/N/N," you corrected, scratching your arm as a small smile played on your lips.

"Okay, Y/N/N, well, enjoy your shower and try not to think about me too much," Natalie teased, purposefully bending forward as she got up. The suggestive move caught you off guard, and you felt a sudden wetness between your thighs, a heat rising within you.

You stormed off toward the shower, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The day had taken unexpected turns, and Natalie's playful banter only added to the complexity of the situation. As you stepped into the shower, the warm water enveloping you, you couldn't shake the lingering sensations from your encounter.

The atmosphere inside the plane was heavy with tension, the hum of the engines providing a constant backdrop to the somber mood. The news reports filled the cabin, discussing the events at the race track and speculating about Tony's actions and the existence of your powers.

"Child with toys," you grumbled, rolling your eyes at the dismissive tone of the reporters. The urge to defend your father and your family's legacy was strong, but you bit your tongue, choosing to retreat into your music instead.

Inserting your earbuds and selecting a playlist on your iPod, you closed your eyes and let the music wash over you. The familiar melodies provided a welcome escape, transporting you back to the intimate moment you shared with Natalie, the soft touch of her lips still lingering on yours.

Lost in thought, you found yourself yearning for the comfort and excitement of that stolen moment, a brief respite from the chaos and scrutiny that surrounded your lives. The complexity of your feelings for Natalie weighed on your mind, the unexpected connection leaving you yearning for more.

As the plane soared through the night sky, you allowed yourself to drift, the memories of your kiss and the promise of what lay ahead providing a glimmer of hope and excitement amidst the uncertainty of your lives.

The tension in the living room was palpable as Pepper and Natalie juggled their respective phone calls, their voices filled with a sense of urgency and concern. The events of the past few days had taken a toll on all of you, and the need for damage control was evident.

Rhodey's unexpected arrival added another layer of complexity to the situation, his stern demeanor contrasting with the chaos unfolding around you. Natalie's attempt to keep him away was met with a united front from Pepper and you, your synchronized response catching her off guard.

As Natalie's eyes narrowed and she mouthed a warning, you couldn't help but smirk, a chuckle escaping your lips as you shook your head in amusement. The playful exchange only heightened the tension between you, the unspoken connection growing stronger with each passing moment.

Walking on thin ice had never been so exhilarating, and you found yourself eagerly anticipating the moment when it would finally break, allowing you two to explore the depth of your feelings and the possibilities that lay ahead.

The anticipation for Tony's birthday party filled the air as you got ready in your room. Opting for an edgy yet stylish look, you adorned yourself in an asymmetrical black techwear skirt, a matching crop top, and thigh-high stockings with garter belts. Chunky Doc Martens completed the ensemble, and you threw up your Y/H/C up into a slightly messy bun. Dark makeup accentuated the tattoos that adorned your legs and covered your body.

Lost in your reflection, you didn't hear the door open and close. Only when Natalie appeared behind you, her arm snaking around your waist, did you realize you weren't alone. Her proximity sent a shiver down your spine as she whispered in your ear, "Who knew you could pull off suits and pretty skirts, cupcake."

A playful comment lingered in the air as you met her gaze through the mirror. Your breath caught when she continued, "I could just eat you out...I mean up." A suggestive bite of her lip followed, and your cheeks flushed with heat.

Her promise for later hung in the air, leaving you at a loss for words. "Once I get your dad all ready for his party, I'll come find you so we can have some fun of our own, okay, cupcake?" You could only nod, words escaping you in the face of the unexpected intensity of your exchange.

"Words, cupcake," she purred, her hand grazing your ass and squeezing slightly as she kissed your cheek. A shaky breath left you as you managed to stammer, "Y-yes, Natalie."

She smirked, letting her presence linger before sauntering off. You watched her leave in yet another alluring dress, feeling a magnetic pull as desire surged through you.

The pulsating beat from the party below seemed distant as you found myself alone with Natalie in your room. The bottle of vodka in your hand was both a comfort and a reminder of the chaos surrounding you. The weight of the world's scrutiny, the questions about your abilities, and the expectations tied to your identity as Tony Stark's daughter pressed down on you.

Natalie's sudden presence broke through your thoughts, her voice drawing you back to the present. "Hmmm last I checked you aren't 21, Ms. Stark," she remarked, her eyes locked onto yours. You took notice that she had changed since earlier now wearing a cheetah print slip dress.

Caught off guard, you tried to justify your actions. "Look, it's been a week, you know this. I just need to not think about everything for a bit, okay?" Your voice was tinged with frustration and vulnerability, the raw emotions bubbling to the surface.

Natalie's raised eyebrow and confident stride toward you sent a jolt of electricity through the air. Placing the bottle down, she closed the distance between you, her hands resting on your hips as she leaned in, her voice husky and seductive. "Well, if you don't want to not think for a bit...I could certainly help you with that. I am your assistant, after all."

The subtle shift in her voice, the hint of an accent, and the intoxicating proximity sent your heart racing. The line between assistant and lovers blurred, leaving you breathless and longing for more.

"No, you're my parents' assistant," you countered, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But Natalie's words and actions had already ignited a fire within you, the tension between you was palpable.

Her response, dripping with desire and intensity, pulled you in further, your resolve crumbling with each passing second. "You're their precious daughter, how could I not take care of you?" The closeness of your bodies, the warmth radiating between the two of you, elicited a soft moan from your lips, your voice betraying the desire coursing through me.

"Natalie..." you whispered, your voice filled with longing and anticipation, the promise of what lay ahead leaving you eager and breathless as your worlds collided, opening the door to a connection neither of you could deny.

The world seemed to fade away as your lips met, the intensity of your connection deepening with each passing second. Natalie's hand found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss grew more passionate. Your hands instinctively cupped her cheeks, your bodies moving in perfect harmony as desire took hold.

The sensation was electrifying, every touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Before you knew it, the two of you were tumbling onto the bed, your bodies entwined as the passion between you intensified. The softness of the sheets beneath you, the warmth of her body pressed against yours, all added to the overwhelming sensation of being lost in the moment.

When your lips finally parted, the look of surprise in Natalie's eyes mirrored your own feelings. But before you could react, she flipped you, her strength and confidence evident as she pinned you against the bed. The feeling of her thigh pressing between your legs sent a shiver down your spine, a gasp escaping your lips as pleasure surged through you.

Your eyes locked, the intensity of the moment leaving you both breathless and eager for more. Her husky voice and commanding words spurred you on, igniting a fire within you that you never knew existed.

"Move your hips, cupcake. Ride my thigh," she whispered, her lips finding yours once again in a passionate kiss.

The encouragement and guidance from Natalie gave you the confidence to explore new sensations, your body instinctively responding to her touch. As you began to move your hips, the pleasure intensified, a soft moan escaping your lips as the rhythm between you grew more intense.

The experience was exhilarating, the connection between you deepening as the two of you explored new levels of intimacy. Despite your lack of experience, Natalie's guidance and the undeniable chemistry between you allowed you to lose yourself in the moment, embracing the pleasure and excitement of the unknown.

Every touch, every kiss was a testament to the passion and desire that had been simmering beneath the surface, now fully unleashed as the two of you surrendered to the intensity of your connection. Lost in a world of pleasure and longing, you allowed yourself to be guided by Natalie, trusting her to lead you on a journey of discovery and fulfillment.

The intensity of the moment reached its peak as Natalie's words and actions drove you closer to the edge. The sensation of her hands on your hips, guiding and encouraging you, sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, each touch amplifying the ecstasy that was building within you.

"I'm so glad you wore this skirt; it's so much easier to play with you," she murmured, her voice filled with desire and anticipation.

Her words, combined with the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving together, pushed you closer to the brink. The feeling of being on the edge, teetering between pleasure and release, was exhilarating, and you found yourself whining in desperation, craving the release that was within reach.

"N-Nat..." you moaned, your voice filled with longing and need.

"Go on, cupcake, cum for me," she whispered seductively, her eyes locked onto yours as she urged you to let go.

The intensity of her gaze, the warmth of her touch, and the intoxicating rhythm drove you over the edge, your body trembling with pleasure as waves of ecstasy washed over you. Your tattoos seemed to come alive, moving across your body in sync with the waves of pleasure, a visual testament to the intensity of the experience.

"That's my good girl. Just like that...ride it out, baby girl," Natalie whispered, her voice filled with pride and satisfaction.

You opened your eyes, the world coming back into focus as you met Natalie's gaze. Her pupils were blown, the green barely visible as desire and satisfaction radiated from her. You could only imagine that your own eyes mirrored hers, the connection between you deepening as you shared a moment of pure ecstasy and intimacy, lost in the intensity of your connection.

The sudden interruption jolted you back to reality, the remnants of your intimate moment with Natalie quickly fading as the house shook with the force of the impact. Instinctively, you both ran towards the main floor, your concern growing as you heard Pepper's voice.

"Natalie!" Pepper's voice echoed through the chaos, her tone filled with urgency and concern.

"Mrs. Potts," Natalie responded promptly, her professional demeanor coming to the forefront.

The tension in the room was palpable, Pepper's eyes narrowing as she looked from Natalie to you, her concern evident. Before she could say more, the floor erupted beneath us, Tony and Rhodey crashing through in a display of raw power and conflict.

"Go!" you urged Natalie and Pepper, your tattoos coming to life as you stepped forward, ready to intervene.

The look of concern in Natalie's eyes tugged at your heart, but you reassured her, "Go...I'll be fine." With that, they retreated, Happy guiding Pepper away while Natalie disappeared in another direction.

"Stop fighting, you two! I will separate you!" You called out, your shadowy tendrils extending from your body, ready to intervene.

"Don't get involved, Y/N/N. This is between your father and me," Rhodey warned, his voice filled with determination and resolve. As he was don in the War Machine suit.

Despite his words, you couldn't stand by and watch as the two men you cared about most clashed in a battle that threatened to tear them apart. The power surging through you, the determination to protect and intervene, drove you forward as you stepped between them, ready to do whatever it took to stop the fighting and restore peace.

The adrenaline coursing through your veins began to wane as the immediate threat subsided. Exhausted, you released your grip on Tony, your muscles aching from the effort it took to restrain him. His intoxicated state only added to my frustration and concern, the gravity of his actions weighing heavily on you.

"What the hell was that, Dad!?" You shouted, your voice filled with anger and disbelief.

But Tony was lost in a drunken haze, his words slurred and unintelligible as he mumbled to himself. The reality of the situation hit you hard, the realization that his actions had not only put himself at risk but also jeopardized the safety and well-being of everyone around him.

"You ruined my night..." you muttered, the disappointment and frustration evident in your voice.

Thoughts of Natalie filled your mind, the connection you had shared was overshadowed by the chaos and conflict that had erupted. The uncertainty of whether you would see her again weighed heavily on you, the hope of exploring your newfound connection clouded by the events that had transpired.

The morning brought a new day, but the lingering tension from the events of the previous night weighed heavily on you. Tony, still in his suit, took you to a breakfast spot for some donuts, attempting to break the silence and ease the tension that hung between you.

"You really messed up last night," you stated bluntly, taking a bite of your bear claw.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up and eat your breakfast," he retorted, a hint of regret in his tone.

As the two of you enjoyed your breakfast on the rooftop, Nick Fury approached, interrupting your moment of relative peace. You used your smoky tendrils to descend slowly, greeting Fury with a smile.

"Fury," you acknowledged, the familiarity in your interactions a contrast to the strain in your relationship with your father.

"Little Stark," Fury replied, a smile crossing his face as he hugged you. Tony eventually joined you, and the three of you headed inside to continue your conversation.

Sitting in a booth with your father and Fury on the opposite side, you were taken aback when Natalie appeared, clad in a skin-tight black bodysuit. Your mouth fell open as she smiled at you. The unexpected presence of someone you thought you might not see again left you momentarily speechless.

"We've secured the perimeter, but I don't think we can handle it much longer," she reported to Fury.

"Huh...you're fired," Tony declared, a hurt expression crossing your face.

"Oh, that's not up to you," Natalie retorted, her words cutting through the tension.

"Tony, little Stark, I'd like you to meet Agent Romanoff," Fury introduced.

"I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D shadow. Once we knew you were ill, I was tasked to you by Director Fury. Finding out you had powers was just icing on the cake," Natalie explained, her gaze lingering on you.

The revelation about Natalie's true role left you unsettled. As you looked away, a sense of dissociation washed over you—a defense mechanism you hadn't employed in a long time. The complexities of your newfound powers and the tangled web of relationships and secrets threatened to pull you further into the abyss, leaving you grappling with the uncertain path that lay ahead.

The weight of the recent events and the complexities of your relationships left you feeling isolated and overwhelmed. Holed up in your room, a wave of depression washed over you, casting a shadow over everything. A knock at the door interrupted your solitude, but you didn't feel like engaging with anyone. Despite your lack of response, the door opened.

"Go away, Dad. I don't want to talk," you called out, assuming it was Tony attempting to breach the walls of your solitude.

"Oh, I'm not your dad, unless that's something you're into," Natalie's voice cut through the air. The unexpectedness of her presence caused you to shoot up, facing her as she stood just past your door.

"What do you want?" you asked coldly, your guard up as you braced for whatever conversation or confrontation might follow. The uncertainty of where you stood and the weight of your emotions made it difficult to predict the nature of your interaction.

"I want to talk if you'll let me," Natalie's voice was soft, but the weight of her words hung heavily in the air.

"Why should I? Everything I know about you is a lie, Natalie! Oh wait, that isn't even your name!" Your voice trembled with anger and hurt, the betrayal you felt evident in every word. "I gave myself to you. You were my first, and it was all a lie!" Tears welled in your eyes, the pain of the deception cutting deep.

As Natalie stepped closer, you felt a surge of emotions, your tattoos reacting to your heightened state. "Don't," you warned, the tendrils of smoke-like energy emanating from your skin, ready to defend and protect.

"You wouldn't," she challenged, closing the distance between us despite your warning.

"I said don't." Your voice was firm, the energy around you intensifying as you braced for a confrontation.

But instead of a clash, Natalie's arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a hug as you broke down. Your knees buckled beneath you, and you clung to her tightly, the weight of your emotions overwhelming. Smoke from your tattoos clouded around the two of you, a physical manifestation to how clouded your mind felt.

"You lied...you lied to me..." you sobbed, your fists weakly pounding against her as the tears flowed freely.

She held you close, waiting patiently for the storm of emotions to pass, her presence a source of comfort amidst the chaos of your feelings. The pain of the betrayal lingered, but in that moment, the connection between you offered a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty and pain.

"I had to, and I know you have no reason to trust me, but I'm going to tell you something, something no one else knows about me. Can you look at me, Y/N/N?" Natasha urged, her voice filled with a vulnerability you had never heard from her before. Gently, she tilted your chin upwards, her eyes searching yours as she saw the hurt reflected in them.

"You're right, my name isn't Natalie. I go by Natasha now, but my real name, not a spy name or anything like that. The one on my original birth certificate is Natalia," she confessed, her voice soft and sincere. "Though I change names around, I've always been..."

"Nat?" You interrupted, the realization dawning on you.

She was caught off guard but smiled warmly, "Yeah, always, cupcake."

You searched her eyes, looking for any sign of deception, any hint that this was another lie. But all you found was sincerity and a depth of emotion that mirrored your own. The journey to rebuild trust would be a long one, but in that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope.

"It's going to take time for me to fully trust anything you say, but for now...please just...stay with me," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion as you clung to her tightly.

"Whatever you need, cupcake," Natasha replied, her voice filled with determination and resolve. Slowly the smoke dissipated around you, your mind clearing up.

Leaning up, you captured her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, the connection between you reigniting as you slowly explored the depths of your feelings. Despite the challenges and uncertainties that lay ahead, the bond between you remained unbroken, a testament to the strength of your connection and the hope for a future built on trust and understanding.

The atmosphere in the lab was thick with anticipation and nostalgia as Tony and yourself delved into the trunk of his father's belongings. The weight of the legacy left behind by his father loomed large, the contents of the trunk a tangible link to the past and the future.

"So this is all the stuff Grandpa left for you," you remarked, sorting through the items before handing a blueprint of the arc reactor to Tony. His fingers traced the lines and annotations, a sense of reverence in his touch as he studied the intricate design.

Setting the blueprint aside, Tony began to sift through his father's old journal, his eyes scanning the pages filled with calculations and theories. The depth of knowledge contained within the pages was staggering, a testament to his father's genius and the groundbreaking work he had undertaken.

"Hey, Dad, there are some reels of film. We should watch them," you suggested, your curiosity piqued as you handed the reels to Tony.

Nodding in agreement, Tony set up the projector, the soft whir of the film reels filling the room. As the images flickered to life, we were greeted by the familiar face of his father, his voice echoing through the years as he spoke passionately about the arc reactor and its potential to change the world.

As the film played on, revealing insights and revelations about the arc reactor's design and functionality, Tony and you were drawn deeper into the legacy that had shaped his family's destiny. The blend of past and present, the convergence of old knowledge and new possibilities, served as a poignant reminder of the responsibility you carried and the legacy you hoped to uphold.

Together, you continued to explore the contents of the trunk, each item a piece of the puzzle, each revelation a step closer to unlocking the mysteries of the arc reactor and fulfilling Tony's quest to perfect it for his own life force and well-being. The journey ahead was filled with challenges and uncertainties, but in that moment, you were united in your determination to honor the legacy of the past and forge a path forward into the future.

As the film continued to play, a poignant moment unfolded as Tony's father addressed him directly. The atmosphere in the lab grew still, the weight of the words hanging in the air as his father spoke with a sense of purpose and conviction.

"I built all of this for you, Tony," his father's voice echoed through the years, a heartfelt message from the past. "Someday, you'll understand it all and be able to pick up where I left off."

The sincerity in his father's words resonated deeply, the realization dawning on Tony that he was part of something far greater than himself, a legacy that spanned generations. The mention of his father, limited by the resources available to him at the time, added another layer of complexity to the narrative, highlighting the sacrifices and challenges faced by those who had come before him.

As the film continued, revealing more insights and revelations about the arc reactor's design and functionality, Tony was faced with the daunting task of carrying forward the legacy entrusted to him. The responsibility weighed heavily on him, but the belief and confidence his father had placed in him served as a source of inspiration and motivation.

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“It was an illegal seizure of trademark property.” Your mother spoke on the phone as you lounged on the couch in her office, the news once again playing on about Iron Man and talking about you. How young you are and how reckless it is of your adoptive father to allow you to use these enhanced powers. A scoff rolls off your tongue as if he truly had any control over you. You had mostly stopped paying attention to the droning anchorman when two words slipped out of a small girls mouth who was being interviewed.

“When I grow up I wanna be just like the Shadow Queen!” You shot up straight, watching the television and ignoring the fact that your father just walked in carrying the one thing your mom is allergic too.

“Did you guys hear that!?” You asked excitedly calling over the couch that you now perched backwards on and interrupting the conversation they were having. Both looked at you and then the news on TV which now had the headline ‘Shadow Queen: Is This Child Endangerment?’ Pepper let out an exasperated sigh and Tony smiled.

“You are not pulling anymore stunts. Natalie and I are still trying to do damage control.” Pepper spoke and you could hear how over the topic she’d become ever since Italy. You deflated a bit back into the couch until Natasha walked in. Her eyes flicked to you a smirk on her face as she walked up to Pepper.

“Wheels up in 25 minutes. Will Ms. Stark be joining us?” Natasha asked and you smiled.

“Yes she will be.” You answered, jumping the couch. “Oh and Natalie dear can you get me a meeting with the press? I’d like to make an official statement as Shadow Queen.” Both Pepper and Natasha looked at you.

“Absolutely not.” Pepper spoke.

“Sorry mom. I need to do this. I know you and dad both think I’m a kid still. I’m not. I’m not the same girl dad found. I’m an adult now. I’ve watched both of you for so long now and I need to do this for myself. I need the world to know who I am.” You look from your mom to Natasha who doesn’t offer any guidance as your eyes wander back to your mom who lets out a sigh.

“If it’s not your dad it’s you causing me a headache.” She was rubbing her temples. “Just go get ready for the flight. Wear something nice.”

“Do you need anything else boss?” You heard Happy call and when both Pepper and Tony tried to answer, Tony looked around the room at the three of you.

“Oh I see I lost all the kids in the divorce.” He laughs, but Natasha stays focused on Pepper and you stay focused on Natasha. You see Happy shake his head in your peripheral. “No.” Natasha’s focus moved from Pepper to out the floor to ceiling windows of the office before her eyes flickered back to you. Her expression unchanging. Tony cleared his throat, catching your attention. “Are you blending in well here, Natalie? Here at Stark Enterprises?” Is he serious right now? You think to yourself as his tone shifts. At the mention of her name Natasha turns her head towards Tony. Her head tilting down ever so slightly as if to say stop, but Tony being who he is continues. “Your name is Natalie, isn’t it?”

“Dad.” You catch all three of their attention. “Did you hit your head or something?” You ask sticking your hands in your pockets. “Her name hasn’t changed since we met her. Natalie. Natalie Rushman. Remember?” You tilt your head to the side almost as a little warning. Your tattoos shifting ever so slightly that catches Tony’s attention.

Pepper got up while the two of you talked, taking with her the papers she had just signed. “Y/N/N, hurry up. Go change I’ll meet you and Natalie on the plane.” You smiled at your mother as she left the room. Natasha began to clean up her desk waiting for Pepper to be gone before speaking,

“I’m surprised you can keep your mouth shut.” There was a bite to her voice that made you shiver and smile.

“Boy, you’re good. You are mind-blowingly duplicitous. How do you do it? You just tear things....You’re a triple imposter. I’ve never seen anything like you. Is there anything real about you? Do you even speak Latin?” Tony rambled and as Natasha started to leave, following behind you she spoke out in Latin,

“Which means? Wait. What? What did you just say?” Tony asked spinning around in his chair as you wait by the door for Natasha who spun around on her heels to answer him.

“It means I’m fucking your daughter.” She turned back and grabbed your wrist as the two of you left, your mind sputtering.

“What the hell Nat!?” You finally managed out as the two of you stopped at your room to change. An outfit already picked out by Natasha you assumed.

“You think that he’ll actually take that to heart? He called me a triple agent and asked if anything about me is real.” You went to say something, but she stopped you with a kiss. “Shhh cupcake. Get dressed in the outfit I picked.” Her breath hot against your lips and no matter how much you wanted to fight it. That wouldn’t happen as she helped get you undressed.

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You, Pepper, Happy, and Natasha arrive at the Expo. It’s all too loud and noisy for your liking, but you stick close to Natasha. You brush your arms together every so often and a gentle squeeze here and there from her when she can tell you’re getting too tense.

Your tattoos have ben shifting all night. Something wasn’t right and you make mention of it to Natasha when she asks what’s wrong. The markings adorning your body shifting along and Natasha who was already keeping a close eye on things seems to double down.

The three of you sat in the audience watching as Justin Hammer revealed his latest ‘invention’ which was just a rip of of the Iron Man suit making your blood boil and your tattoos itch as they crawled around your skin. You had begun itching at your arms until Natasha’s hand found yours. Your fingers intertwining with hers as she she your hands down on your lap. Keeping her eyes on the stage. You looked at her and then your eyes flicked to Pepper who was too wrapped up in the blatant rip off of Tony’s suit.

Everyone around the three of you clapping as he showed off each set in a different style for each branch of the military. “That’s a hell of a lot better than some cheerleader, let me tell you. But as revolutionary as this technology is, there will always be a need for man to be present in the theater of war.” You roll your eyes knowing just how badly things could go if they start adding anything remotely close to robotic tech like this into the mix of war. It should be nowhere near the battlefield, but idiots like Justin don’t know and don’t care about things like that when money is involved. “Ladies and gentlemen, today I am proud to present to you the very first prototype in the Variable Threat Response Battle Suit and its pilot, Air Force Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes.” As Justin stepped back leaving both Pepper and yourself in shock two quiet “What!?” came out of your mouths.

Rhodey was slowly lifted up in the Mark II suit he had taken a few days prior. You grit your teeth at the man who you practically considered an uncle turning against your father. As Rhodey came into full view you could tell modifications had been made to the suit and it looked a bit bulkier all around with a gun coming off the right shoulder. “For America and its allies, Hammer Industries is reporting for...” Justin didn’t get to finish his sentence as a rumbling started to approach catching everyone’s attention.

You knew what it was as soon as it came into view, your dad, in his suit. Coming right up and touching down in front of Rhodey. You stood up, un able to sit any longer, but you felt the tug back from Natasha. You looked back at her and exchanged looks for a moment before she slowly let your hand go after giving it a tight squeeze.

Everyone was standing up to clap so luckily it went mostly unnoticed until your tattoos moved off your skin pushing you up and landing you just behind your dad. He turned only slightly, but gave no other acknowledgement.

“We got trouble.” Tony stated walking towards Rhodey.

“Tony, Y/N/N there are civilians present.” Rhodey mentioned and you looked behind and back at him like, ‘yeah I know’. “I’m here on orders. Let’s not do this right now.”

“Give them a wave.” You heard Tony state as you walked up to the two men. You turned around giving a smile and two peace signs, letting your tattoos slowly dance around you.

“Hey, all right! Yeah!” Justin pushed past you trying to recapture the audience attention.

“All these people are in danger.” You heard Tony speak, but didn’t react as you were still looking at the crowd. “We gotta get em outta here. You gotta trust me for the next five minutes.”

“Yeah, I tried that. I got tossed around your house, remember?” Rhodey reminds and you turn to the two men finally.

“Listen I think he’s working with Vanko.”

“Vanko is alive?” Rhodey asked and you were questioning the same thing. Tony moved you back to just behind Rhodey as he stepped up to Justin.

“Where is he?” Tony asked Justin.

“What?”

“Where’s Vanko?”

“Who?”

“Tell me.”

“What are you doing here, man?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Rhodey spoke.

“What? What is it?” You ask looking up at Rhodey. Suddenly the gun on his shoulder is pointed at Tony along with the civilians. Your mind races knowing Pepper and Natasha are there too.

“Is that you!?” Tony asks in a panic.

“No, I’m not doing that. That’s not me. I can’t move. I’m locked up. I’m locked up.” Rhodes was panicing as the robots behind you also started to move.

“Dad. I’ve got this.” You called out moving just behind Rhodey. “Help Rhodey.” Almost all the tattoos came off your skin, acting as a barrier to stop the the robots from hurting anyone as they started to fire. Though you felt the hits through the markings you stood tall. As your dad and Rhodey took off into the sky so did the robots. Leaving you there.

“Fuck not being able to fly.” You grumbled, but your tattoos moved instinctively to protect the civilians from the falling glass. You coughed up blood from all the gunshots and glass. Trying to look over the crowd for your mother and Natasha. Finally finding them and moving yourself to them.

Your tattoos came back into you. Your skin feeling like it was on fire as you came up behind Natasha. She grabbed onto when you fell against her.

“You did a good job cupcake take a break. Daddy’s gotta take care of something.” You looked up at her in confusion before she arm barred Justin into the table. “You tell me who’s behind this. Who’s behind this?” Natasha practically growled and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.

“Ivan. Ivan Vanko.” Justin groaned.

“Where is he?” She asked, tightening her hold.

“He’s at my facility.” As soon as she had the information she let go. Walking away from Pepper and you followed close behind.

“Don’t follow cupcake.” Her voice was stern, but you weren’t about to listen.

“I’m coming with you. I took this guy on once before. I’m coming with you and I’m helping.” Natasha stopped turning on her heels. She looked down at you. Her face was harsh and took your breath away, but you didn’t back down.

“I can’t loose you.” Natasha’s voice was flat.

“And I can’t loose you. So either we go together or I hold you here with me.” She raised an eyebrow in a challenge before turning once more and continuing on.

The two of you made your way outside, Happy caught your eye in the crowd of people trying to escape. “Nobody’s answering the phone. What’s going on?” He asked quickly.

“Get in the car. You’re taking us to Hammer industries.” Natasha called out and Happy looked to you for confirmation. You gave him a nod as Natasha got in the back seat, you climbing in passenger.

Happy drove frantically after you had gotten out of the crowd. Luckily because of the Expo and the time of night the streets were rather clear.

“When we arrive, I need you to watch the perimeter, Happy.” You looked back at Natasha, watching as she took her hair down. “I’m gonna enter the facility and take down the target.” Natasha started undressing and you looked away, a blush covering your cheeks as you noticed Happy looking. He started swerving and your tattoos moved up blocking the view as your girlfriend changed. You exchanged a look with Happy before his eyes returned to the road.

“Go ahead Nat. You’re good.” You called out to which you got a ‘Thanks cupcake.’ in return as another look with Happy is exchanged. “I’ll explain when half of New York isn’t in danger, okay?”

When we pull up to the building Nat has changed herself into that skin tight one piece she had on when you found out her true identity. If half of New York weren’t in danger you’d probably take her-

“Stay in the car Happy.” Nat called out as the two of you got out.

“I’m not staying in the car.” Happy called back.

“I said stay in the car.”

“What are you wearing?�� Happy asked.

“Don’t ask. Just stay here Happy. Nat and I got this.” The two of us slipped inside. Working out a small plan before actually starting to attack anyone the two of you happened to come across. As you watched her in action for the first time you were simply amazed by her movements, her agility, just everything about her and you were lucky enough to call her yours?

Just as you were getting lost in thought one of Vanko’s guards came up, but the black tendrils of your tattoos came out. Wrapping around the guards throat just until he passed out from lack of oxygen. The two of you taking down guard after guard as you make your way to Vanko. Natasha pulled out two pistols as she kicked the door in, but Vanko was gone. Just two more of the guards hanging from the ceiling.

“He’s gone.” Natasha stated.

“Fuck.” You cursed, your hands balling into fists as the tattoos moved and itched. Natasha pushed further into the room. Getting up to the computer and started typing as you came up just behind her and to the side. Watching what she was doing. “Are you hacking back into Rhodey’s suit?” You asked getting a short ‘mhmm’ in response. Your eyebrows knitted together. “I didn’t know you could hack.” She threw you a look over her shoulder, a smirk playing on her lips.

“There’s a lot you still need to learn about me cupcake.” It was the way she worded it that made you smile.

“Tony.” Natasha looked at the screen where you could see your father’s face. “Got your best friend back.”

“Thank you very much Agent Romanoff.” Tony saying a meaningful thank you was something you hadn’t heard in a while.

“Well done with the new chest piece.” Natasha commented. “I am reading significantly higher output and your vitals all look promising.”

“Yes, for the moment, I’m not dying. Thank you.” Tony spoke through the comms and you smiled, wrapping and arm around Natasha.

“I’m happy to hear another parent won’t be dying on me.” You joked, but Natasha looked at you and narrowed her eyes.

“Dying? What do you mean? Did you just say you were dying?” Pepper’s face popped up on another monitor, butting into the conversation.

“Is that you? No, I’m not. Not anymore.” Tony replied. You and Natasha exchanged looks and decided not to get involved for the moment.

“What’s going on?”

“I was going to tell you. I didn’t want to alarm you.”

“You were going to tell me? You really were dying.” As the bickering went back and forth a few moments longer before Natasha interrupted finally.

“Hey, hey. Save it for the honeymoon. You got incoming Tony. Looks like the fights coming to you.”

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

You sat nervously in an abandoned warehouse Fury had set up in. He had asked for you first; alone. Which made you nervous, your leg wouldn’t stop and all the tattoos moved around, twitching incessantly at your anxiety. You looked at the monitors Fury had set up and the news once again talking about ‘Shadow Queen and Iron Man.’ A hard dry swallow came along with it at the moment.

A few manilla folders sat on the desk in front of you with the S.H.I.E.L.D logo and all caps just underneath it, AVENGERS INITIATIVE followed by an empty space and then PRELIMINARY REPORT. Suddenly Fury’s hand is in front of you pushing the folder back onto the table, making your tattoos come off your body and stopping just before you hit him.

“Fuck! You scared me Fury.”

“Sorry little Stark. Just don’t need you lookin at that just yet.” You slowly nodded at him, licking your dry lips. “I don’t know if you’re ready for it just yet.” Your brows knitted together.

“Why don’t you tell me first, then we can figure it out together.” You offered and he laughed.

“You trying to negotiate with me little Stark?” A smile cracking on his face.

“I always negotiate. You know who my parents are don’t you?” You raise an eyebrow, but you aren’t expecting the answer you receive.

“Y/D/N Y/L/N died at at 32 in a car accident caused by your powers awakening. Y/M/N Y/L/N died at at 29 in the same car accident. The three of you were on your way into the city to go see a play on Broadway. You weren’t too interested in going and as you started to throw a tantrum over staying back at home with your nanny a sudden burst of energy came out of you, manifesting in what you now call your tattoos. After they came out of you, you accidently tore through,”

“STOP!” Your tattoos shifted uncomfortably at the memory you hadn’t thought about it in a few years. You had buried it away, pretended it never happened.

“You tore through both your parents ending their lives in an instant.” Fury finished and you felt bile rise up that you swallowed back down. “Then the injuries you sustained which were minimal due to your tattoos protecting you you had been left to your father’s best friend and originally your Godfather, Tony Stark.”

“Please...stop. I don’t need my life rehashed.” You pleaded.

“Look at this. Agent Romanoff’s assesment of you.”

“Is...is that really?”

“Read. It.” You sighed and took the folder opening it. Skimming through,

“Okay Y/N Stark takes much after her adoptive father in many aspects, but had many caring tendencies to look after and take care of others even at the young age she is. She is kind, caring, and loving to those around her even when she’s just met you.” You carry on reading until you see it. Y/N Stark a.k.a Shadow Queen has a lot of heart and could be a liability to herself and others due to her caring nature.” You read the last line again. “No. No that isn’t fair. She’s saying that becasuse she doesn’t want me out there! She’s saying this because she cares about me. She told me she can’t loose me and this is her way of trying to stop me!” You slammed your hands down and stood up.

“I know. She told me her reasoning. Told me it was the one time she couldn’t put her feelings to the side. I’ve known Romanoff for many years now and never has she had trouble putting her feelings to the side. So I am giving the yes.” You looked up at Fury.

“You are?” You asked a little shocked.

“Yes. I am. Do not make me regret it little Stark. You’ve trained for a long time and now it’s time for you to stand in the spotlight. Little girls are already looking up to you.” Fury patted your back letting you know you could leave. You had to go talk with Nat about this.

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

“So he still let you join?” The two of you were laying down, she was on her back and you snuggled into her side. For once you two were both in comfortable clothes. Her hair down and slightly messy with a tank top and sweats. While you were in leggings and an old iron maiden t-shirt. Her fingers running through your hair.

“Yes. I’m still not happy you tried to stop me.” You grumbled against her.

“I know and I still stand there on it.” You roll your eyes and bite at her shoulder making her moan out. “Hey. Behave.” She reprimands and pushes her fingers against your lips. You willingly take those instead. “I don’t want you risking it out there for the wrong people or reasons.” You nodded in understanding. “I can’t lose you.” Her voice was soft and her eyes bore into you. You let her fingers go, cupping her cheek before leaning up and kissing her. It was a soft kis where you two moved your lips against each other slowly and just enjoyed the moment before you pulled away.

“You won’t lose me. I promise.” You placed your foreheads together as she accepted the answer for now though you knew she’d still always worry. You’d never let her know just how worried she made you. She’s a black widow, but she was still a human with no enhancement unlike you. Your tattoos were instinctive to protect you and those you care about. “I’m not going anywhere Tasha.” You reassured her with another kiss as the two of you melted into each other, finally getting to just enjoy each other after the past month of activities that had occurred and you were hopeful for more time like this with her for at least a little while before Fury called up one of you. You could only hope though.

[wandasaura]

PAINTED ALL MY NIGHTS

summary — your mommy was mean, but your daddy could be downright cruel. it makes for an interesting night when they both decide to leave you wanting until you’re not sure how much more teasing you can take, and even then, they’re not going to give in easily

warning(s) — established relationship, daddy kink, mommy kink, mild pet play, dumbification, humiliation, degradation, praise, teasing, butt plugs, dry humping, shoe humping, inspection kink, oral, fingering, choking, crying, pussy spanking, mentions of chastity belts, begging, orgasm control/denial, edging, overstimulation, forced orgasms, squirting, oral fixation (brief), finger sucking, ¿arousal tasting?, mean mommy wanda, cruel daddy natty, aftercare, men/minors dni

A soft current of chilled air swept beneath the thick desk your body remained crammed beneath, adding goosebumps to the array of blemishes against your satin skin. How you’d managed to acquire a collage of bruises on your shins wasn’t quite a mystery, but like a canvas speckled with vibrant acrylic paints, the evidence of their existence was undeniable and honestly laughable. The summer heat was thick, falling over your quaint little town as if its intention was purely to suffocate those that resided near the shorelines of New Jersey, but even beneath an office desk, curled into a tight ball, head resting on plush thighs the color of warm sand, the low thrum of the air conditioner remained a steady presence keeping you cool. A hum, softer than a whisper stolen in a overstimulating crowd, slipped off your lips when manicured fingers the color of divine cherries embedded themselves within your undone hair, scratching tenderly at your scalp that had yearned for attention since you’d wiggled your way underneath the desk your girlfriend worked at. That was how you’d acquired so many faint yet assuredly purple bruises, crawling across wooden floorboards and banging your limbs on hard wooden corners just trying to be close to the women that you love. 

Your eyes, a beautiful definition of color that had somehow become the lifeline your girlfriends hadn’t known they’d been missing until they met you, looked up, just barely able to steal a glance at the woman working at the desk you sat beneath. Her own eyes, a kaleidoscope of unreplicable blues and greens, were trained to the litany of emails that had collected since the night before when she’d sat in the same place for hours attempting to respond to them all. Perhaps you had been ignorant, but before your world had been remade into what it current is, you’d never given professional trainers much thought; had never dwelled on the profession long enough to consider how in demand they are amongst military units and police squads, but your girlfriend, the one who was just slightly older than the other, had made a name for herself out of that very profession, and each day that she wasn’t stolen from you by obligations to train the cities sharpest officers, she spent an unhealthy amount of hours answering emails that all demanded to know when she was free next, and how far she was willing to travel for her services. 

“You okay down there, puppy?” The tone of her voice was low, and admittedly husky from minimal use throughout the endless day that had befallen you, but equally soft as it fell against your attention deprived heart and showered you in warmth that wasn’t nearly as cruel as the unwavering heat that plagued the streets of West View. A sweet blush fell over your cheeks, a strangled whine slipping off your lips as you rocked your hips against the wooden floorboards, searching for something more; something adamantly forbidden. “Use your words, please.” 

With a displeased grunt, your brain foggy despite the little action your wanting body had seen since you’d woken up tangled within cold bed sheets, you pieced together a simple sentence, direct enough to convey your desperation, but just sweet enough that your workaholic girlfriend would forgive your bluntness easily. “Want you.” It was so simple, so telling, so pure, and yet it wouldn’t be enough to convince her and you knew that. Your Mommy was mean, that was an unchanging factor in your sexual endeavors, but your Daddy could be downright cruel if she felt like it. 

Another hum filled the air, though hers was prominent, filled with simple dominance that made your belly coil in unattainable pleasure and fear. “Is that so?” She chided, not tearing her gaze away from her desktop screen for even a second to take in the sight of you curled up so sweetly in a ball by her feet. Had she looked down, taken just a simple glance at your disheveled state, she would’ve noticed the dark patch adorning the center of your cotton panties, she would’ve noticed the way your pebbled nipples poked through the thin tank top clinging to your torso in an effortlessly enticing manor, she would’ve noticed your desperation glazed eyes and arousal flush cheeks, but she didn’t, and you knew that it was purposeful. She was diminishing you to be nothing but her brainless pet, and as hard as you fought to stay coherent and clear-minded throughout her trickery, it was working too well. 

You’d known the game she was wanting to play since she’d coaxed you into taking one of the fancier plugs that had been purchased for your puckered hole early that mid-morning. You’d been eager to play, wiggling your hips and pushing back on the fingers that gently worked you open at a pace so slow it rivaled drying paint, but she’d found restraint since the last time you’d played this game, and patience was ever so slowly ebbing away from your wanting body. A whine, high pitched and entirely petulant fell off of your lips when nothing was given to you in the aftermath of her taunt. You rooted harder against the light oak floorboards, bracing your palms mere inches in front of your body, hoping that the balanced pressure would provide you relief, but all you’d accomplished was alerting her of your sneaky actions, and so carelessly a shoe covered foot jutted out to become your undoing. A sob broke through your lips the second her shoe nestled itself between your trembling thighs, giving you a silent ultimatum that unfortunately, you weren’t desperate enough to take up just yet. The unspoken demand was simple; ride her shoe or stop whining, but humiliation was engraved in the degrading task, and your brain, a helpless pile of submissive mush, hadn’t been undone quite enough to take the bait. 

Settling back against the floorboards like you’d been prior to your short-lived act of defiance, her shoe a bulky presence beneath your body giving just enough pleasure to not be forgotten about entirely, you dropped your flush cheek to her upper-shin once more, nipping at her unblemished skin in frustration. Her fingers were quick to reprimand you, nestling into your undone hair and pulling sharply, giving you no ounce of grace despite being the cause of your misbehaving. 

Another hour passed after that without so much as a glance in your direction, and then another, and then another, until the sun was sinking beneath the shorelines of New Jersey being replaced by moonlight that glimmered against every reflective surface in the home office. Your girlfriend, the artist, was due home soon. She’d been called away to her gallery early, preparations for a mid-season showcase taking up most of her time nowadays, but you could always count on her comforting presence before the canvas of sunset could melt away entirely. You whined as you shifted against the floors, rocking your sopping cunt into your girlfriend's shoe incidentally, an electric pulse of pleasure shooting up your spine and tangling into the center of your belly where one off sparks had been shooting off at for hours. It hadn’t been intentional, your only intention had been to relieve your aching bones for a few simple seconds, but instead you found yourself tethered to the source of pleasure you found despite the humiliation that just barely crossed your mind, and again, your hips rocked, and again, pleasure shot through you like a bullet train. 

If your girlfriend noticed how you humped her shoe and clung to her leg and whined and whimpered and twitched with pleasure, which she most definitely did, nothing was said. There was no demand to stop that followed your curious movements, no assurance that despite your disgusting act you were good, so good, no verbal humiliation regarding how disgustingly needy your brainless pussy was. There was nothing, and the lack of attention only brought forth a new wave of discomfort. You cried out helplessly, uncoordinated movements becoming sloppy and desperate, but the tears that spilled down your cheeks like tantalizing rivulets did nothing to interfere with her concentration. It was becoming equally too much and not enough, the game was becoming less fun, less enticing, but you wanted her, and you needed her, and you hoped that eventually, before your thoughts spiraled so deep into despair that only Wanda could pull you back up, that she would notice. 

Miraculously, she did. When your grinding slowed, and your sobs intensified, and you weren’t sure if you were trembling as a result of found pleasure or desperation for her, she reached down, corralling you into her lap with gentle movements and tender touches. Your sodden panties dragged along the thin material of her biker shorts, and with a mind of their own, your hips searched for relief against her, grinding and humping and wiggling so intensely that the chair rocked in time with your movements. Your face found peace in the shallowest pit of her neck, lips sucking marks onto her smooth skin, tears dampening strands of hair that had become trapped between your body and hers. 

“Such a good girl, I have. The best girl. The best puppy.” She cooed softly, her fingers holding tightly to your waist, guiding your movements with leisure, inching you closer and closer to an explosion of relief that would have you falling deep into a pit of paralyzing submission for hours. When her other hand, the one that had never been laid against your waist, dipped further down, gliding against your spine until it reached the swell of your ass, you realized just briefly that this had been the end goal the entire time. She wanted you pliable in her hands, she wanted you so desperate that despite your conflicting emotions you sought pleasure from her simple body. A sharp moan fell into the air when soft fingers pressed against the plug nestled between the globes of your ass. The plug, a heart shaped jewel the color of your favorite shade of pink, pressed into you firmly, not entirely dissimilar to how it had pressed into you when you sat flush against the floorboards, but there was an added spark now that her fingers were the one provoking such sensations. “No, you don’t get to cum. Just feel it, pretty puppy. Just enjoy how good Daddy’s making you feel.” She was quick to reaffirm that forbidden rule, and your tears were quick to start again, blubbering sobs and pleas falling off your lips and you ground your clothed core into hers, your clit catching on the waistband of her biker shorts each time she guided you higher. 

“My my, what’s going on in here?” Another voice, a softer voice, broke through the heavy fog restricting your mind from fully recognizing what’s happening around you. You hadn’t heard the front door close, hadn’t heard her heels clanking against the floorboards as she discarded her blazer in the living room and set her thermos of coffee down on the kitchen island, you hadn’t heard her kick off her stilettos by the stairs before she padded her way up to Natasha’s office. You hadn’t heard any of it, but you heard her now, and you reached for her with determination, your face flush and damp with tears that your Daddy was far too proud to have been the result of. 

“M-Mommy!” You sobbed weakly, sparks of pleasure still paralyzing you in place on Natasha’s lap, however with Wanda home now, with your Mommy present, you could only hope that relief would make its way to your pulsating clit quickly. She never could resist the sight of your tear stained face, even if Natasha found it delectable. Mommy was hard, she was firm and she was ruthless, but at the end of the day you were just her precious little baby eager for attention and she was more than happy to give you that. It was Daddy’s puppy that could endure the wrath of denial and endless teasing, but now, your brain lingered on the verge of two headspaces that clashed so violently it was as if two separate people resided within your desires and neither one was ready to relinquish control, and your overstimulated, underwhelmed body wasn’t quite sure where to settle in the aftermath of such an emotionally charged lead up to this moment. Everything was too much, but nothing was enough to state the desire burning holes into your judgment. Natasha had broken you. That had been the game all along, you were just too naive to realize until now. You’d played the part of a dumb puppy seamlessly, grinding on her shoe, on her lap, biting at her legs and at her neck… you’d been the perfect puppy for a few agonizing hours, but now you were ready to be Mommy’s baby; her spoiled little princess. 

“Oh no, Mommy’s not going to save you now, little minx. You look so pretty making a mess on your Daddy’s lap.” Wanda’s laugh was your favorite sound. It was sweet and twinged with innocence, despite the hardships that had befallen her in life, but as if fell over you now, as it crashed against your shorelines it was harsh and unforgiving, cold and threateningly eerie. A sob rippled through your chest, and pathetically your head fell against Natasha’s shoulders, your hips fumbling to an abrupt stop as you gave up. It was too much, it was all too much. You needed your Mommy, you wanted your Daddy, you didn’t want to be the one pushing toward an orgasmic explosion of relief. You wanted it done to you, wanted to be their pretty little toy that they used however they pleased, and yet they weren’t giving you that satisfaction. “You need help, is that what this is about? Mommy’s little baby can’t do it on her own?” 

You peeked out from Natasha’s shoulder, beautiful eyes that stole breath from healthy lungs glazed over so heavily that the gleam of moonlight slipping in through the curtains framing the window reflected off of them dazzlingly. You wanted your Mommy, and she had so cruelly refused to help you. A guttural sob slipped off your tongue, and defenselessly you surrendered to Natasha’s persistent touches, your hips twitching of their own volition when she pressed harshly against the base of the plug nestled deep within your puckered hole with addictive strawberry flavored lube. The tank top that clung to your torso was damp with sweat and tears, giving easy sight to your pebbled nipples that rubbed and brushed against Natasha’s chest teasingly. You’d been successfully undone, not a single coherent thought in your head, and yet it wasn’t enough for them, it would never be enough for them. 

“Come here, my darling girl. Let Mommy take a look at what’s bothering you.” Your cheeks, already so tenderly flush that they felt hot to the touch, became alight with nervous energy as you wiggled out of Natasha’s grip and reached out firmly for Wanda, not willing to take her rejection again. It never came, thankfully, and within seconds you were nestled against your Mommy’s chest, breathing in the comforting scent of her perfume and acrylic paints. She preferred oil, but she’d been working on one last canvas that had only felt right to be constructed with vibrant purples and oranges from her acrylic collection. It didn’t matter much to you. Wanda smelt like coming home after a strenuous day, and so intimately you snuggled closer, still sniffling and writhing for pleasure to consume you. 

Her footsteps were soft, practically inaudible as she padded across the wooden floorboards and brought you to the bedroom that hadn’t been seen since you’d come to find Natasha when sunlight was still painting the endless sky a hue of admirable baby blue. Your back met the soft bed sheets when Wanda threw you down, her touch lost for merely a few seconds before thumbs, stained from spilled paint, pried your thighs open, leaving your sodden panties on full display for her to enjoy. A shy whine rippled through your chest as you attempted to close your legs, but all that came of your weak protests was a curt tutt and a firmer hold. 

“My my, sweetheart. Your panties are awfully wet. Mommy can see your little clit just begging for attention right through them. I bet that feels so icky, huh?” She cooed tauntingly, her unmanicured finger falling between your open legs, her paint stained nail tracing the softest line across the expanse of your clothed pussy, merely smearing arousal across the already sodden fabric. A strangled whine caught in your dry throat, your desperate gleam not nearly enough to convince her to relieve you so early on. “Let me have a taste, hm? Let Mommy see what all the fuss is about.” 

Her words alone hadn’t been enough to prepare you for the sensation of a warm tongue flicking curiously against your hardened bud, a mixture of saliva and arousal further dampening your panties as Wanda leaned down to firmly taste your glistening core, her strangled moans of enjoyment sparking sensations deep in your belly that had your eyes fluttered closed and your hips grinding up to find more; more pressure, more stimulation, just more. It was over as soon as it had begun, and a whimpered protest fell into the air as you blindly reached down to grab fistfuls of neatly tamed waves, trying desperately to pull her face back down to where you needed her most. She was unrelenting, smiling down at you so sickeningly sweetly that you yearned to kick her away and roll over in a huff of frustration, but temptation got the better of you, and desperately you rolled your hips against thin air, hoping to seduce her into giving into your desires. 

“M-Mommy! It’s achey!” You babbled desperately, wiggling pathetically against the bedsheets that had seen many strenuous endeavors over the last few months. Just the thought of how many times you’d come apart beneath them on these beige gingham sheets left you desperate, and the thought of adding another orgasm to the collection of passed ones had you panting. 

“Oh, I’m sure it is achey, sweetheart. Your little pussy’s so needy, Mommy might just have to lock her up, huh? She gets you in so much trouble, always crying for attention, always desperate to be full. I think it’s time we teach her how to act, hm?” Wanda continued to coo, all while her fingers rub soft patterns and shapes into the soaked fabric of your pastel pink panties, though the damp patch had turned them a hue so vibrant there’s not a single paint in Wanda’s collection that could match it accurately. You shook your head adamantly at the idea, a sob clawing up your throat at her proposed suggestion, and she laughed. “It’s not up to you what Mommy does, little girl. You’ll just take it like a good girl, won’t you? You’ll let Mommy do whatever she wants to you?” 

You couldn’t help but nod, blubbering into your hands that had come to hide your face at some point between her lips on your clothed core and her fingers tracing minuscule details. You whined when she spread your legs further, painfully aware of how your clit throbbed and pulsated against the fabric of your panties, enough for her to take notice and flick her fingers against your sensitive bud in tune with its rhythmic beating. A open palm slap was the sensation that startled you, and a pathetic whimper filled the room as your eyes shot open and you witnessed Natasha standing beside Wanda, her eyes trained on your core, her palm glistening despite the barrier between your core and her hand. 

“How many can this slutty puppy take before she comes from a spanking alone?” Her words are directed at Wanda, her attention split between your dazzling girlfriend and your glimmering core. Not an ounce of attention falls on you, from either her nor the artist also filling the space between your open legs. It’s humiliating, entirely dehumanizing, but it fuels your arousal further, and pathetically you grind upwards, hoping to come in contact with her palm once more, even if the touch is harsh and unforgiving. “Looks like the dumb pet wants to find out.” 

The first spank is heavenly, a harsh blow aimed directly at your quivering opening that’s been void of stimulation all day, but the second is cruel, aimed straight at your unsuspecting clit that throbs and pulses in the aftermath of the blow and has you writhing from that intense mix of pain and pleasure. A strangled sob rips your throat apart, your eyes wide and pleading for relief do nothing to soften Natasha’s reserve, and again she strikes you between your legs, and again your core reacts before your brain can catch up to what’s happening. It’s by the sixth that you can feel it happening. Your legs are shaking, trembling, fighting to close but Wanda holds them open and leaves you vulnerable to the assault. Your chest is rising and falling so fast that your breath comes out in strained pants. Your eyes are shut, fingers holding fistfuls of bed sheets that do nothing to ease your panic. You’re close, so close, one last hit and you’re falling over the edge into bliss that’s been sought after for days. It doesn’t come. That’s exactly what you’d been dreading, the edging. The signs had been painted across Natasha’s face since she pulled you up into her lap and had reaffirmed that you weren’t allowed to cum, but now it’s fallen over top of you like a bucket of ice water and it’s too much. It’s too much and it’s not enough and you can’t control yourself when you sob and kick at them, wriggling around like bed like the plush sheets beneath your hands will be any comfort. 

“Please please please please! No Daddy! No! No no no! Please! Please! P-Please! Been good! I-I’ve been good! Been a good girl! Pl-Please!” Your words are a barely coherent jumble of sobs, and you’re faintly aware of Wanda attempting to coax you back into place, but all that dwells on you is the constant denial of relief, of attention, of affection. It’s too much, and you’re so desperate, and you’ve been so good, and you know that you’ve been good. Why isn’t that enough? Why can’t it be enough? “Wanna cum! Please! Please Mommy! Please! Please I was good! I sat with Daddy and-and I kept the plug in and I-I was good! Mommy I was good! Please! No more teasing! No more! Please! I can’t! I can’t-”

You’re faintly aware of the bed dipping beneath the presence of another body, but only when Natasha’s firm hands cup your cheeks do you realize that she’s cuddled up beside you and her hands are tenderly brushing away rivulets of perspiration and tears from your face. She kisses you sweetly, slowly, savoring the sight of you so undone from their simple touches, but there’s an etch of concern entangled with her captivating features, enough to tell you that it’s ending, it’s finally ending. 

“Do you need to safeword?” She asks tenderly, brushing strands of unruly hair away from your damp face. There’s no sight of disappointment, of underlying anger, just genuine care and concern, which has been all you wanted for hours. 

You shake your frantically, soft cries slipping into the silence once again. The thought of losing them after enduring so much just to get that blissful reward of an orgasm has you scrambling to make sense of your feelings, but they’ve jumbled your brain, fried your independence. You’re at their mercy until you regain their bearings, all you can manage is a soft, frantically whispered. “J-Just want you. P-Please! I’ve been good!” 

“You’ve been so good, malyshka. So so good. My best girl. Let Mommy help you now, hm? Let her make all the aches go away.” Natasha speaks to you tenderly, resigning from her role as cruel daddy for the night, content to simply lay by your side, a reassuring presence as you prepare to submit to your Mommy. 

Wanda works your panties off softly, caressing your thighs as she brushes against them, taking in the sight of your cunt, bare of coarse hair and blemishes, looking absolutely delectable as it glimmers beneath soft ambient lighting and undiluted moonlight. Nobody had thought to turn the lights on when they entered, but the soft night light in the corner of the room provided more than necessary as she lowered her lips to your clit and didn’t hold back. 

The first suckle at your overstimulated bud was euphoric, and your back arched high off the mattress as you scrambled to twist your fingers into her hair, desperate to keep her close to your core though she wouldn’t have pulled away regardless of your persistence. She laps at you with intensity, using her paint stained fingers to hold your lower lips apart and dig right into her meal without care for how harsh or animalistic she appears, her nose bumps your clit as her lips moved south, her tongue poking into your weeping entrance and attempting to drink the arousal that had pooled there after hours of being trapped beneath thin panties. When her fingers slip into you, two to be exact, you can’t control your whines and moans, and so profusely you beg for permission to fall off the edge of the cliff and drown yourself in orgasmic bliss that rivals the chill of ocean waves in summertime. 

“Go ahead. Let go, baby girl. Make a mess on Mommy’s fingers. You can cum, it’s okay. You can let go now. You did such a good job, such a good job, my angel.” Natasha whispers into the darkness of the bedroom, her lips flush against your temple as she works you up more, her fingers pulling and twisting at your nipples still hidden beneath a sweat drenched tank-top. You feel disgusting, sticky and slick with sweat and tears, but it’s not enough to pull you away from this moment, and when her hand, the one that hadn’t been permanently glued to your breasts, found your throat, nor squeezing but applying just enough pressure that it reaffirmed her gentle dominance over you, you gave into the orgasm that had been begging to be unleashed. 

You didn’t have time to come down from that first high before Wanda was doubling her efforts between your legs, her fingers jackhammering into your entrance as her tongue traced circles and flicked at your once deprived bud of nerves. You shrieked, whining so petulantly that Natasha cooed sweetly against your temple and continued her gentle movements against your tits, pulling your tank top up just enough to reveal them to the cool breeze that swept through the room, accompanied by the low thrum of the air conditioner. 

“No more! N-no more!” You attempted to squirm away from the undeniable pleasure Wanda was provoking, but to no avail did you succeed, weakened from hours of crying and arousal. Natasha remained by your side as Wanda scratched at your thigh and hips with the fingers that weren’t knuckles deep inside of your cunt, leaving faint pink marks in the wake of her grip and touch. 

“You wanted to cum, puppy. You wanted Mommy to make you cum, so now you’re going to take it, okay? Can you do that?” Natasha hummed softly, kissing you again, an easy method of distracting you though you didn’t protest, eagerly reciprocating the kiss and assuring that her own world was painted in vibrant colors for the few seconds that she allowed your tongue to tangle with hers. “Good girl. My good girl. You’re doing so well. So well for Mommy.” She coaxed you through the second orgasm that tore through your belly at an accelerated pace, just barely able to contain her surprise as your core released an onslaught of juices aimed straight at Wanda’s face. A cry of humiliation left you, but it was soothed quickly by the woman between your legs, her tongue soothing the ache in your clit before it was gone entirely. 

“Shh, we’re all done. All done.” Wanda’s mouth shone brightly beneath the moonlight with your arousal, her chin dripping as she leaned above you, offering her fingers which you eagerly took into her mouth. The taste of your core was prominent, familiar as you’d been in this position a few hundred times over, but it brought peace to your hazy mind and you melted firmly into Natasha now. “You did so good for me, my little princess. So so good. Mommy’s so proud of you.” She kissed you softly, replacing her fingers with her tongue that tasted so prominently of your orgasm and arousal that you couldn’t help the whine of submission that filled the air. 

“What can I get you, princess? How about some goldfish because I’m sure Natasha didn’t take a break for lunch like I told her to.” Wanda sent a pointed glare at Natasha, who bashfully shrunk into herself and shrugged half-heartedly. Lunch had most definitely slipped her mind, and she cursed beneath her breath when she realized you’d put up a fit if she tried to drag you downstairs for dinner. 

“Mommy stay.” You whined, attempting to reach out and pull Wanda down onto your body, but Natasha had already seen that coming, and had tangled her fingers with yours. 

“Mommy will be back so soon, pretty baby. She’s going to get you some fishies and a water, and she’s going to grab your favorite blanket from downstairs, and Daddy’s gonna wipe you down and get you dressed in some comfy pajamas. How does that sound?” Natasha easily directed Wanda to gather all of the things you’d undoubtably ask for in a few minutes when the haze of your submission lessened and your tired muscles became apparent. The Sokovian didn’t linger, instead she jumped straight into action, leaving one last kiss against your lips before she disappeared downstairs, hoping you had enough energy to get at least a couple of crackers into your body before you fell asleep. 

You only agreed because you hadn’t really had a choice to begin with, but still Natasha worked with your fussy attitude and got you wiped down with a damp washcloth and redressed in pajamas that were really just stolen pieces of her and Wanda’s casual attire. When the Sokovian returned, your favorite cup in her hands filled to the brim with room temperature water, you were cuddled into Natasha’s chest, biting softly at her fingertips as she attempted to keep you awake, some animated movie playing on the tv screen above the dresser on the wall opposite the large bed you occupied. She smiled softly, throwing a protein bar at Natasha’s head, before she took you into her arms, cuddling you into her chest, wrapping you tightly in your favorite throw blanket. 

You nuzzled into her chest, begrudgingly taking a sip of water when she held the straw up to your lips persistently. It soothed your scratchy throat instantaneously, subsequently allowing your previous hours of screaming and moaning to become a distant memory until tomorrow morning when you woke without a voice. The goldfish she did not get so lucky with, offering a small handful to you as you zoned into the sound of her heath beating rhythmically beneath your ear and focused on the kaleidoscope of colors morphing across the tv screen. You whined, wiggling away from her hand rather fussily, and she knew better than to agitate you farther, so rather than keep persisting, she ate them herself and pulled you in closer, her heart and soft whispering to Natasha lulling you to sleep in minutes. 

“You really have to stop forgetting to eat lunch.” Wanda sighed amusedly, bringing up the age-old concern that had a near prominent spot in their conversation log. Natasa laughed sheepishly, one hand falling onto the small of your back as you turned further into Wanda’s chest, while the other reached to turn off the obnoxious film you strangely adored. 

“It’s not my fault when this one decides to camp out beneath my desk.” She weakly defended, laying a tender kiss to the back of your head, your hair smelling faintly of the shampoo she kept in the upstairs shower. 

“Oh sure, blame her because she’s not awake to defend herself.” Wanda retorted, rolling her eyes in exasperated fondness as she tangled her fingers into your still disheveled hair, hoping that when morning rolled around, you’d still be soft enough to request that she did your hair before she left for the gallery. 

Natasha paused, a wrinkle of affection twinging her expression before she leaned forward and embraced Wanda in a tender kiss above your head. “I love you.” 

“I love you.” Wanda hummed against her lips, letting her eyes flutter closed as she took in the simplicity of this moment with the both of you.