#Natasha Romanoff x fem reader

[wandaspup]

I never thought I’d be attracted to someone’s throat n neck but here we are.

[romanovthinkver]

can you please write daddy nat just fucking reader into oblivion everywhere 😩

daddy nat would fuck you brainless in every corner of the house at every hour, especially if she has you on a breeding schedule. you’re busy? who cares, she needs to have her balls deep in you. strong hands throw everything off the surface and starts to pistol into you. around the house you’re always in only baby pink panties, she obviously picked them up for you, one of her large shirt too big for you in order to reach your breasts easily.

do you think that’s all it? no. daddy nat clearly has to try every damn spot to fuck you dumb. it doesn’t matter anymore where, her main goal is to breed you and claim her holes: the kitchen, the bathroom, the bedroom, the living room, the pool, the backyard, the floor, once also in the garage and so on and on.

her favourite place you wonder? the bed. why? rather than be comfortable for both of you, she can pin you down and fucking you raw like an animal and breeding you into a mating press. however, her favourite spot is also by the window. she pins you there and fucks you into the oblivion so everyone can see how a slut you are. thick cock in your tiny pussy, white cream drooling out your thighs and tits jiggling into her hold. you belong to her and she’s much happily to show everyone.

daddy nat clearly doesn’t stop at every corner of the house. she’s obsessed with car sex. having her cock deep in your throat as she drives is her guilty pleasure. having you seated on the passenger seat like a princess while her free hand pump into your tight hole, throwing you in the backseat to watch you jump on her cock or even pinning you down to pistoling into your cunt.

the car isn’t her limit either. she fucked you dumb once also into a changing room at the store. it was breeding time and god forbid her if she miss it, it was necessary she said. she made you seat on her lap facing the big mirror to force to look you reflex at how good you take her massive cock, how your only job is to please her and how much of a cock whore you are for her. her hand sadly was on your mouth, but let’s just say that the skin slapping and she squelching sound of your pussy and her dick meeting, let you have a consumer complaint either way.

your daddy thought it was a waist to not let you scream her name at that point, she definitely will come back to give everyone a show next time. and you didn’t even say a word, why wouldn’t you? in the end you’re always happy to be stuffed full everywhere from your daddy.

[stayevildarling]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader- Whispered confessions

A/N: basically an Avengers with benefits kinda situation but reader whispers a confession she shouldn‘t have.

tw/tags: mild mention of a gunshot, mild mention of blood, lots of smut, nsfw, reader recieving, top nat recieving, oral, fingering, strap on, bit of angst, hurt/comfort

word count: 3.8k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahelvar , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples

You had just stepped out of the shower moments ago, washing away the exhaustion and blood off your body from the last mission. Hair still damp and towel wrapped around your body, you hear a knocking on your door within the avengers compound, knowing exactly who was going to stand on the opposite side of it, that same look in her eyes.

And just as expected , your eyes fall upon Natasha, still in her uniform from today, her hair slightly messy and that same expression of hunger and lust in her eyes. She glances at your exposed body, silently asking for permission and to enter and you simply open the door further, walking away from her and once hearing the door shut behind you letting the towel sink from your body and exposing your naked form.

You glance behind your shoulder, seeing how her eyes turn considerably darker and without warning she lunges forward, her lips capturing yours in a fiery kiss as she pushes you to the nearest wall, your back hitting against it harder than either of you anticipated but not caring either way. Her breath is hot against you as she lifts you into her arms, your legs immediately wrapping around her waist as she carries you to the dining table, not caring about making it to bed.

You can see in her eyes how hungry and exhausted she is, this mission having undeniably been a lot and despite you getting the worst of it this time, neither of you could stop the hunger inside you for each other. Natasha trails sloppy and lazy kisses down your neck before trailing her mouth lower and lower until she reaches your sweet spot, your glistening core greeting her as she delves her tongue into you. You throw your head back in pleasure, the familiar feeling of having her between your legs sending a shiver down you and a heat throughout your entire body.

„Fuck“ you moan out as your chest heaves, the woman wasting no time as she pushes her tongue deeper inside you, drawing the sweetest noises from you. Your nails dig into her back and she knows it means you are already so close for her. „You‘re so filthy, ready to cum already“ she hisses as she extracts her tongue and bites the inside of your thighs, causing your breath to hitch. Her fingers enter you fast without warning, curling them deep inside you as her tongue attacks your sweet spot again, sending you tumbling right over the edge.

She doesn‘t give you time to relax, pulling you up as she kisses you hard, the desire dripping from you still as she forces her fingers into your mouth, letting you taste your arousal. „Are you gonna return the favor?“ she asks with a raised eyebrow and you roll your eyes a little at her antics, the stress quite literally radiating from her. You begin taking her uniform off, slow and deliberate as you begin kissing down her body, exposing her naked form and despite her eagerness you take the time to kiss her scars and bruises, a habit you do every time and despite her disapproval she lets you, just like she usually would.

She leans against the table as she spreads her legs, giving you access and pushing your head right into her center, making you return the favor and of course you do, never being able to deny the woman of anything. Your tongue works it‘s own magic, swirling perfectly against her clit before you run deeper and enter her, hitting her sweet spot. She would often wear her strap but tonight she must have been so desperate she found your room straight after debriefing. „Fuck detka“ she whispers as she throws her head back in pleasure. You can tell she is holding back, trying not to cum so fast so you can‘t make fun of her later but you move just the right ways, entering her with your tongue while rubbing her clit lazily, sending her right over the edge.

Her eyes burn with desire after you help her ride out her high, her eyes seeming much less stressed and tense as before. She doesn‘t waste a lot of time before silently asking your permission to use the bathroom and you nod, watching as she disappears in there. You wait patiently as you sit on your bed, by now dressed and some of her spare clothes on the bed as she had forgotten them last time. You greet her with a gentle smile when she returns and you can tell she is much less tense than before, a grateful smile tugged on her lips as she notices the clothes and begins dressing herself.

Your eyes watch her and the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach settles, the same as always upon having her leave. Once she is dressed she glances at you and the words leave you much quicker than you could stop yourself. „Do you wanna stay?“ you ask and her eyes widen once your word settle in. „I mean- we could have some pizza, watch a movie or something“ you mumble, scratching your neck nervously, expecting her to run the way she usually would but to your surprise she agrees. „Sure, only if I can have a large one and choose the movie“ she shrugs with a sly smile and your eyes light up as you nod. „Of course“ you agree and she chuckles as the two of you walk towards the sofa.

That was the first night Natasha stayed over, the two of you watching some action movies, chuckling at silly scenes and her making some avenger comments about your fellow team. The two of you ate pizza before you eventually fell asleep in front of the tv, the exhaustion heavy on your body and by the time you woke up again, you found yourself in bed, Natasha beside you, this not being the first time you had been in your bed with her. And when you realize she stayed, you smile, the same tingling feeling returning to your stomach, as you snuggle closer to the redhead.

The next morning, the two of you go for round two, knowing you would have some recruits training today and possibly another mission within the next few days. Natasha and you had been Avengers for years, you joining much later on when Yelena had originally brought you in, introduced you to the others, meant to give you a home for a while until Tony appreciated your talents. The first time you and Natasha had slept together was at one of his parties some months later, the two of you drunk, tense from some past missions and one thing leading to another. Natasha not able to refuse you in that suit and you not able to refuse her in that dark red dress.

And then it would keep happening, the late night knocks, the occasional quickies during an undercover mission. The ones in the gym after training recruits or the ones on the rooftop, the two of you tipsy while ditching some boring parties or get togethers. And you knew the woman partly used you for her own desires, to calm down from missions and to blow off steam and somehow you were doing the same but there had always been something different about the way you look at Natasha. You didn‘t see her as the Black Widow, the strong avenger or simply for the looks. You could see past it all, you could see beneath her walls, the cracks of pain from years of torture in the redroom.

You could easily tell if a mission was triggering her, if something was on her mind by the slight twitching of her lips or her hands balling into fists. You knew her inside out, the scars, visible ones and the ones hidden from years ago. And somehow everyone around you knew, knew what had been going on between you and knew the way you looked at Natasha. But somehow the two of you had been wrapped up in it all that you never noticed. Things began changing with the next mission, one that wasn‘t supposed to take long, a quick in and out when both you and the Black Widow got ambushed.

Several guards suddenly in your way and you saw the bullet flying way faster than Natasha did and without thinking twice you pushed her out the way, her features tense as she saw you on the floor, quickly calling for backup before fighting them off one by one, suddenly overtaken by rage. She stuck around while you got the wound stitched, nothing serious but she insisted on taking you back to your room either way. „What were you thinking?“ she hisses as she sees you sitting on the sofa moments later, staring at your bloody uniform. „You could have died“ she hisses and for the first time that night you could see something beyond her stern demeanor, wondering if she actually cared about you in that way.

You couldn‘t help yourself, despite the wincing and pain radiating off your entire body you cling to her, capturing her lips in yours. And she returns it, her hands instantly holding your body in place as she takes you to the sofa, moments later both your clothes abandoned on the floor and you saw the small buldge the entire mission, knowing she was wearing it for you tonight. You can tell she is hesitant, her hands so much more careful than usual, less rougher, as if you are the most delicate thing on the planet and she didn‘t mean to hurt you but you didn‘t care, needing the redhead more than anything tonight to stop your heart from swelling for her.

„Are you sure?“ she whispers as your lips connect to her neck, leaving desperate kisses, causing her own arousal to build. „Yes I don‘t care“ you moan, desperatly clutching onto the woman and holding her close to your body. „Please I want you inside me“ you moan upon noticing her holding back but your statement causes something in her eyes to turn considerably darker, her hands travelling down your body and her fingers collecting your wetness, checking whether you are ready for her and when she feels your soaked pussy, she can‘t help herself from sitting on the sofa , grabbing your hips and positioning you on top of her, her whole length filling you up and causing your pupils to blow. Your mouth forms into an „O“ shape as you cling to her lips again, hands steady on her shoulders as she keeps your hips in place, slowly rocking back and forth and seeing the pleasure overtake you slowly.

There was something different about tonight, the way you both clung to each other, despite the desperation, there being a slowness to it, a passion that usually wasn‘t there. Your lips never left each other‘s, eyes locking whenever you would open them, her cock entering you so slow and gently and the look in her eyes something that you hadn‘t seen before. Natasha doesn‘t need to speed up her movements, the two of you staying like this for the longest time while the world around you fades before she feels your familiar nails on her back, thrusting into you deeper before feeling your liquid cover her length, her own juices dripping down her cock moments later. „Tasha“ you moan in pleasure, her breath mingling with yours hot and needy.

„Detka“ she moans in your ear, the pet name sending you right into overdrive as you begin bouncing on her, the feeling sending a heat through your entire body. She watches in awe as you go for round two without adjusting, slamming into her, watching your tits bounce and your head thrown back in pleasure. She holds it in place, never taking her eyes off you. She needs you to cum for her and she needs it right now, wasting no time as she pulls you foward your chests collapsing against each other as she begins pounding into you hard, your entire body on fire, this feeling like no orgasm you have ever had before, so raw, so intimate that it causes you to collapse into her, your head falling onto her shoulders.

„You feel so good Y/N“ she whispers before you moan, sleepiness already taking over you at the exhaustion from todays mission and this. „I love you Tasha“ you whisper, the words leaving you much quicker than you can stop them, or even think about them. You feel her stiffening in your arms and your eyes widen upon realising what you had just done. There is a heavy silence and you carefully leave her lap, the emptiness of the silence and leaving her cock immediately leaving you hollow. You avoid her gaze, feeling so embarrassed before disappearing into the bathroom, having missed the expression on her face and how her entire world fell apart for a moment.

Leaning against the door you quickly sink down it, holding your breath before hearing your apartment door closing seconds later. And you sigh then, some part of you glad that she left as you couldn‘t find it in yourself to look at her after this. You end up collapsing into the shower, wiping away the lingering blood, sweat and exhaustion from the day. Yet Natasha lingers on your mind, knowing those words should have never escaped you, knowing those words would cause her so much hurt knowing her painful past and how guarded and careful she was with her heart. You knew this was just a relief for her, to take some edge of being an Avenger and you wish the words never escaped you, despite the vulnerability of the moment before.

That night you don‘t see Natasha, opting to give her some space, the same as the days following to the next mission, you kept to yourself mostly, training on your own instead of with the woman, missing the way she would make you laugh during and the way she would make you feel after. But the embarrassment of it all kept you hidden away, hoping she would simply carry on the way you both had been, hoping this wouldn‘t change anything, despite knowing the chances are slim. The next time you see her is on the quinjet a few days later, as she sits across you, greeting you with her casual smile and you are grateful she isn‘t ignoring you, even if it is for the sake of not showing something is going on in front of your teammates.

And somehow neither of you really saw each other much, the two of you assigned different tasks and somehow only seeing each other on the quinjet as she flies home and you tiredly collapse against a seat. Mission debriefing is quick as all of you simply want to get back to your own rooms and you can‘t get yourself to look at her, as she sits across from you, the shame and hurt taking over as you bolt out as soon as the meeting finishes. You never noticed her eyes searching yours during the meeting, how she was trying to communicate with you in silence, trying to catch up with you as she saw some tears in your eyes.

She had been on her way to her room, wanting to give you space when Clint had stopped her, pulled her aside and talked to her. Having been her longest friend, he knew all about you two, the woman never having said anything but not needing to. Whenever he mentioned your name or someone from the team her eyes softened, she was oddly protective about you and he of course figured out by now where she would often steal away to when catching her in the hallway. He had seen it on this mission, working closely with you how you seemed so sad and how Natasha seemed distant, how her eyes bored into yours during the meeting and how yours avoided her. „You need to tell her“ he said and the redhead simply acted like she didn‘t know what he is talking about, her guard high up as always.

„I know you don‘t think you know how to love or be loved Nat but I see it in your eyes and hers“ is all he said before putting his hand on her shoulder and squeezing it, a reassuring smile on his lips as he left her standing there, doing his part. And something within her changed then, she realizes that all along she had been holding back from allowing herself to feel what should have been obvious to her by now. Why she never minded you kissing her scars, why she never shared intimacy with anyone else like this before, why she kept running back to you when she felt vulnerable, beaten and broken. She loved you. And when that realisation ripples through her, she runs. She runs like she never had before, as if the world would stop and you would slip away if she didn‘t find and tell you right now.

Her breathing is heavy as she knocks on your door, her hands shaking and her eyes wide with realization. You had again just stepped out of the shower, ready to get into bed after this mission, barely in a towel as you open the door, assuming it was someone else as Natasha‘s knocks had always been quieter, much like the secrecy you shared with each other. When your eyes fall upon her, you immediately tense, noticing her state and concern overtaking you, never having seen her so serious before. „Tasha are you okay?“ you ask but she doesn‘t respond, pushing the door open before closing it with her leg, rushing towards you as her hands cup your cheeks, her lips hurriedly finding yours.

You close your eyes, surprised by the sudden shift in the kiss, so much more intense and so different to usual. Your mind runs wild as you figure out whether to stop her, knowing this shouldn‘t go on after your confession. Debating whether to keep going for your sake, the woman keeping you safe and warm always and not wanting to miss her embrace. You are so wrapped in it all you never notice your eyes watering and her pulling away upon feeling the tears on her hands. „I���m sorry“ you whisper, your eyes still closed, as she wipes your tears with her thumbs. „I want this and I want you and I shouldn‘t have said what I did, I‘m sorry, I promise I can get past it“ you ramble on, missing the way her face crumbles upon hearing your words, understanding the pain you would go through to have her close.

„Detka.. Detka“ she stops you, and as you notice her thumbs still rubbing your cheeks you open your eyes and seeing her expression, so much unlike what you expected. „I‘m not here for that“ she encourages, her voice filled with so much softness, calm despite her hands shaking against you. „I.. I love you detka“ she finally speaks, the words taking your breath away as everything around you stops. Your heart beats out of your chest before the doubts creep in, wondering if she was only saying this because she felt bad for you and wanted to keep this going. „Tasha“ you sigh, as your eyes lock with her own. But you can see it then, behind her eyes, the truth. You can see love, a vulnerability that you have never seen before and a realization.

„But“ you try to protest, however the redhead doesn‘t let you. „No buts detka“ she smiles, her hands still not leaving your cheeks, keeping you close. „I shouldn‘t have ran, shouldn‘t have stayed away“ she admits and some more tears swell in your eyes upon hearing her version of the truth. She can see the doubts in your eyes, the insecurities and she wants to make sure to take them all away. „Why do you think I keep coming back to you? Why do you think I was so worried and mad when you got hurt because of me?“ she whispers and you smile sadly then, as she slowy wipes all the doubts from your face. „I love you, may I show you?“ she asks and you nod slowly, her lips capturing yours before she picks you up, taking you to bed this time, so much slower than usual, like the two of you have all the time in the world, there not being any rushing this time.

She lays you down gently, as if you are the most fragile thing on the planet. Her hands gently rid you from the towel, exposing your body as her lips capture yours in a passionate kiss. The redhead takes her time, kissing every inch of your body, your scars, the lingering wound you had taken for her, her fingers trailing over it gently. She makes you feel loved as she caresses every inch of you, showing you exactly what she adores about you. When she takes your hardened buds into her mouth she keeps eye contact, watching you throw your head back in pleasure as she slowly gets you ready for her. She takes her time as she takes your clit into her mouth, eating you out with patience, taking her time before she enters you.

Every thrust is filled with patience, love as she holds you close, not an inch of the usual tension in her features and movements. Your eyes stay on her the entire time as she kneels close to you, her fake cock hitting all the right places, filling you up so perfectly. She has you close eventually, building you up so well before she pulls you up, sitting you on top of her as she wants to be closer, still keeping the pace and filling you up. „You‘re so good for me, so beautiful“ she whispers into your ears as she holds you close. „I love your body, I love how you respond to me and I love you“ she whispers, your orgasm building and as she glances at you she sees the tears, concern filling her features as she stops. „No.. no carry on“ you encourage „I just.. I feel so good“ you moan and it‘s all she needs before she sends you over the edge. „Tasha“ you moan, the orgasm washing over you stronger than ever before.

That night she lays beside you, as you collapsed onto her chest, not thinking about leaving the way she usually would. Finally having realized her feelings and never planning on letting you go again. She likes the feelings of having you in her arms like this, an unfamiliar feeling of home and safety that she hadn‘t felt before. She smiles softly as she notices your exhaustion, despite trying to keep your eyes open. „Go to sleep detka, I‘ll be right here when you wake up, I promise“ she whispers before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. And of course she kept her promise, never leaving you again from now on.

[th3-c0rps3-r0gu3]

Y/n: Nat where are you going with that gun?

Natasha: to kill Trump. His body my choice right.

Y/n: yeah ok but that's the wrong gun. Take this one instead.

[teaaagan]

Hug

Y/N: Do you need a hug?

Natasha, upset: WHAT DO YOU THINK??

Natasha: *Storms off*

Y/N:

Natasha, coming back: Yes please, I’m sorry

[ange1heavensent]

In the Dead of Night

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Pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

w/c ≈ 790

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Natasha was startled awake, another nightmare. She sat up against the headboard, leaning her head against it, trying to regain her composure. After some deep breaths and scanning of her surroundings she came to the conclusion that she was safe, in your shared apartment, with your sleeping form right beside her. Natasha also knew that sleep would not come easy for her at this moment, still on high alert and she needed to calm herself down. 

So, Natasha did what she usually does after a nightmare. She carefully climbed out of bed, doing her best to not wake you, because honestly it would do more bad than good for her right now. If you were to wake, you would be adamant about her getting back in bed and laying down in your arms. Something she normally loved, there was no place better on earth than being wrapped in your arms, but right now she just needed to be alone. 

Natasha walked out of your bedroom and into your kitchen, the routine used to consist of her making coffee and then to sit down to think and breathe. Nowadays, rather than to make a cup of coffee, Natasha made a cup of chamomile tea. You were aware of Natasha’s little night time routine, after questioning her about the cold half-full coffee pot you would find in the mornings, and you suggested that a caffeinated beverage may not be the best for a good night's sleep. So, now Natasha’s night time beverage has changed to tea. 

The apartment was dark, except for the warm kitchen illuminating the small space. It wasn’t fully quiet either, traffic and the last people making their way home after a rather successful night out could be heard. The noise from the streets of the city that never sleeps, had a calming effect on her, while she was sitting by your kitchen table. The cup of tea was now empty and her thoughts were at bay. She was ready to go back to sleep.

The empty cup was left in the kitchen-sink, but instead of making her way back to your bed, to you, she decided to lay herself on the couch. She took your decorative pillows and propped them up on one side of the couch and wrapped herself in your blanket which rested on the couch arm. The outside noise lulled her to sleep immediately. 

-

You woke up to a twilight sky, you weren’t supposed to wake up at this early hour, but your unconscious felt that something was out of place. You turned towards Natasha’s side of the bed to discover that it was empty. You scanned the room, the en suite bathroom light was off, the covers next to you felt cold and the bedroom door was slightly ajar. You decided to investigate her disappearance. Stepping out of your bedroom, you found the sight to be endearing, Natasha sleeping on the couch, blanket pulled all the way up towards her neck, she seemed to be at peace. 

What you decided to do was selfish, but you couldn’t suppress your need to have her close. You slowly and carefully made your way towards her, lifting the blanket from her hold and meticulously climbing in. You laid on top of her, she stirred a little from your movement, but it did not wake her. Your head was placed on her chest, her heartbeat, her warmth and soft snoring, washed a sense of calm over you. Nat would ever admit that she snored, not even a little bit, but she did and you found it adorable. Your eyes fluttered closed in no time. 

- 

When Natasha woke up a second time, due to the early morning sunrays seeping through your living room windows, she felt fully rested. She could also feel the extra weight on top of her, but it never worried her, she knew it was you. The warmth, the smell and soft hold you had around her brought her peace, she never wanted to interrupt this type of peace and luckily for her she didn’t have to, at least not today. It was Saturday and neither of you had anything planned. The two of you could stay like this all day and you probably would. She buried her fingers in your hair lightly scratching your scalp, she felt your stir, then slightly stretch and yawn. “Good morning sleepyhead” she said softly, her raspy morning voice and comment, making you bury your head deeper into her chest. A smile spread onto Natasha’s face when she heard your mumbled “good morning Nat” against her chest.

The two of you would definitely stay like this for the rest of the day. 

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Thank you for reading! If you liked this fic, check out my masterlist for more :)

[sytoran]

ARSONIST'S LULLABYE

kinktober day 011 | cheerleader!natasha x player!reader

"don't you ever tame your demons but always keep them on a leash" — arsonist’s lullabye, hozier

summary. natasha gets more attached than expected after a one-night-stand with the college's infamous player, both on the field and with the ladies. however, she's always been good at getting what she wants.

rating 18+ | word count 7438 (shittt)

note. natasha is 18 and y/n is 19, y/n is described to be masc-representing (eg. cropped hair, compression tee + grey sweats, tattoos, piercings)

note ii. please please please please take your time to read it, you don't understand how long i've spent pondering over every intricacy in this fic.

note iii. drinking game: take a shot every time i say 'don't fall for the player'

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

Don’t fall for the player.

This was a warning, circulating within the hallways of Avengers Institution, whispered under hushed breaths and divine lips.

Students in this renowned college came from all walks of life — from children of billionaires to self-made achievers, from prodigal minds to brilliant brains. One thing stood for certain, though, and that was the infamous Y/N L/N.

It was a rumour, tried and true, that every single girl — regardless of their sexuality, physical appearance, or social status — would all eventually fall under the spell of the school’s “player”. Try as they might, victim after victim fell helplessly for an effortless charisma and unstoppable magnetism.

The chase never lasted long, a one-sided apex predator hunt. Once you had your eyes set on someone, there was simply no escaping the undeniable fact that the following morning, that girl would wake up in bed next to you.

Problem was, you had this rule, written in stone: Never sleep with a girl more than once.

Alas came the cruel and vicious cycle of girls falling under your spell within milliseconds, only to have their heart shattered within the next twenty-four hours. Sometimes even less.

Boys looked on in jealousy, girls looked on in intrigue. (Or maybe jealousy, too.) The wiser ones kept a distance, but either way, one fact stood true, the moment one stepped into Avengers Institution.

Don’t fall for the player.

Little did you know, soon would arrive a thorn in your plans, an unwanted distraction, your ultimate downfall.

All due to an equally irresistible girl by the name of Natasha Romanoff.

***

“You’re fuckin’ impressive for a freshman, Natasha,” Pepper whistles, clapping her on the back. “Consider yourself a member of the Avengers Institution’s cheerleading squad.”

Natasha nods breathlessly, dropping the pom-poms onto the ground. She had just completed a complicated routine for the cheerleading tryouts, a rigorous one with flips and twirls that required pristine balance.

“I guess that’s expected from a girl who was with the Red Room,” Sharon adds, somewhat snidely. She was another freshman trying out for the cheerleading squad, with a snake-like smile that was coated with too much venom to convey any sort of genuineness.

Natasha returns the smile blankly, false emotions overtaking her face like second nature — propriety, expectations, rectitude. She knew what those words meant, when they put emphasis on the Red Room.

The Red Room, in question, was one of the highest-class organisations internationally that trained talented young female cheerleaders. With a near overly-daunting curriculum, payment fees so impossibly high, and only the most renowned instructors, the Red Room was essentially associated with filthy rich wealth and spoiled privileged kids.

And such comes the tragedy of warped views on capitalism and the unfairness of the world. Sharon leans next to Natasha’s ear in the false pretence of picking something up, but her lips move dangerously swiftly and whisper, “Daddy’s money lets you get everything you want, hm?”

It only takes a second, and then the faux-innocent perpetrator briskly moves away as if nothing had occurred. Natasha stands still, the gripe washing over her back like a cold shower. She steels her shoulders, refusing to be provoked. It wasn’t her fault she’d been born with a silver-studded spoon in her mouth.

Shrugging off the strange looks some of the other girls give her, Natasha hides her annoyance by fiddling with her short skirt. Alongside college came the novelty of less-strict clothing etiquette, and that resulted in the most miniscule cheerleading skirts Natasha had ever worn in her life.

“Ready on the count of three,” Carol announces, tapping her clipboard with a ballpoint pen, surveying the expanse of the wide field.

It wasn’t Natasha’s fault she simply got everything she wanted.

“One.”

An invisible force of magnetism pulls Natasha’s gaze to the bleachers above the field, unyielding and unstoppable. There stands a tall and dark figure in a relaxed position, looking directly at her with piercing eyes. A shiver of anticipation sweeps through the air, and Natasha feels goosebumps rise on her skin.

“Two.”

Aloof charisma exudes from the person’s very presence, so compelling and captivating that it takes Natasha a moment to realise that there’s another girl standing next to the enigmatic soul. She’s chatting animatedly, under a false belief that she’s got your attention, but Natasha knows better.

Her eyes travel over the person’s sculpted figure clad in a leather jacket, tacit confidence written in your lazy smirk and composed posture. Electricity erupts in Natasha’s bloodstream, sending shockwaves coursing through her mindwires, forcing her to look back up to your alluring, forsaken eyes.

“Three.”

Natasha’s body moves mechanically, practised and poised. The rhythm thrumming from the portable speaker seeps into her practised muscles without her brain actually registering it, still reeling from the sheer impact of you.

If there was a fracture in her composure, if her routine was ever-so-slightly off, if her legs trembled more than it normally would’ve, Natasha would blame you.

Natasha would blame you and your stupid smirk, your silly leather jacket, your sickeningly magnetic allure. How you made her feel unstoppable with that come-hither gaze, then left her so low when your eyes inevitably left her.

And suddenly, like a golden key slotting into place, the words Natasha had heard whispered in the hallways finally made sense. The coveted prayer that could only be spoken under hushed tones and divine lips.

Don’t fall for the player.

When Natasha finishes the series of tumbles that ignites impressed cheers from the senior cheerleaders, she lifts her lowered eyes back to the bleachers.

Only to find your lips locked with the blonde girl from before, your hands creeping dangerously low on her back. You move like a predator python, the silver piercings in your ears glinting in the light with every of your calculated moves.

A burning feeling courses through Natasha’s veins, like an ugly green monster unfurling gradually, indescribable anger making her jaw tick.

Don’t fall for the player? Well, now that just sounded like a challenge.

***

Natasha makes her way through the crowd of students filing out from the lecture hall. The chatter fades to a background buzz in her ears as she beelines towards a group of more bearable folks.

“No, they’re a sophomore,” Wanda explained, leaning against the locker door.

“Who’re we talking about?” Natasha intercepts with a curious gaze, slinging an arm around Clint lackadaisically. Professor Banner’s lectures were highly educational, but he tended to drone on a little, and she could feel the rising boredom making its slow crescendo into the back of her mind.

Clint raises his eyebrows amusedly, then lowers his voice in humorous dramatisation. “The player.”

Natasha’s face flashes in recognition at your title. Several things flit across her mind in rapid succession — a fetching character, a lofty smirk, and a pretty girl hanging off a forearm.

“So, this uh… What’s her name?” Natasha tries to ask subtly, faking an expression of indifference. Clint, as always, side-eyes her with a playfully accusatory glance. Natasha shrugs with an odd feeling of guilt.

“Well, I’m a sophomore too, so I do have the guilty pleasure of knowing Y/N L/N,” Wanda said with a bit of a grin.

“Knows her in more ways than one!” Sam cackles, ducking as Wanda swipes at him.

Natasha feels that burning feeling rising in her chest again, and perhaps it was due to the knowledge that someone else had experienced being in bed with you — which was arguably silly, because of course you slept with plenty of women, but that didn’t quell her growing unease.

“Was the sex really that good?” Clint asks bluntly, folding his arms as he leans against the locker next to Darcy. Natasha chokes on air.

Wanda only raises an eyebrow, as if to question the poor boy of his doubts of your sexual prowess. Her knowing smirk told a thousand tales, of your sentient being seemingly reincarnated from a Goddess of Sex, of your mighty skillset of lust, the ultimate sapphic enigma.

“You tryna pull a lesbian, birdboy?” Natasha asks dryly, nudging Clint in the rib. The jibe doesn’t even give her that satisfaction. Thinking about you again had unnerved her very skin, causing clammy hands and a dry mouth.

“She leaves all the girls the morning after, though, so don’t get your hopes up,” Wanda sighs wistfully, waving her hand in the air as if she prophesied of a legend. “It’s a one-night-wonder. Kind of like an eclipse. Only happens once, but when it does, it’s really astronomical.”

Natasha flexes her fingers to get her blood flowing. All this talk about your specialised skillset in bed was making her heart flutter, in the best way possible, but maybe that per se was the worst thing possible.

Because she might acknowledge that you were attractive, but that didn’t necessarily mean she wanted to sleep with you, right?

“And that’s why it's a common tongue around here,” Wanda concludes. “Don’t fall for the player. Simple as that.”

On cue, the noise in the hallway comically fades to silence. The gathered crowds of students make way for a quickly striding figure, clad in the same dark clothing Natasha thought about day and night.

Crossing the hallway with an easy purpose and confident composure, you walk past girls who could be seen swooning. Your gaze slides over them casually, sending small smiles here and there but never really quite focusing.

Until your eyes meet Natasha’s, of course. Like a love scene straight out of a drama, your composure cracks fractionally, and your loose confidence is subverted. It only takes a second before your persona snaps back into place.

“Hey, Natasha,” A smooth voice spills out from your angel-crafted lips. Your voice runs over her weak-willed skin, suddenly so vulnerable in your presence, and then you’re gone.

Natasha stills in place, staring after your disappearing figure. Your two words had left such a searing imprint into the front of her mind that it was honestly concerning. The chatter rises again, as if you were never there.

“Looks like you’re Y/N’s next conquest,” Wanda comments, mildly impressed. “Good luck, my friend. Just remember, don’t fall for the player.”

***

Why on earth there was a dorm party on the second day of school was a question that would forever remain unanswered.

Perhaps the adolescent spirit was the root cause of it, free and tameless and reckless, or maybe it was the temptation of alcohol and attractive folks, intoxicating and thrilling.

Either way, Natasha was here for a good time, not a long time.

Her short midnight dress flounces as she makes her way over to the partially occupied couch, the rather risky slit making its way up her thigh to reveal awfully beddable skin.

“Hey, babe!” Wanda calls enthusiastically, waving her over. There’s a Matrix movie playing on the screen, Natasha isn’t clear of which one, and there are students sprawled over the couch, the floor, and on each other.

She ends up playing a game of truth or dare with strangers, driven by warm bodies and the repetitive encouragement to indulge in a little bit of ‘fun’.

“Truth!” Darcy yells drunkenly, almost crushing her red solo cup of cheap alcohol.

“Jeez, woman,” Carol mutters, sighing at the tipsy girl’s antics. “So, truth— ever had a threesome?”

A bunch of ‘ooh’s wave like a ripple through the huddle of students, but Darcy answers with surprisingly quick coherence for a woman on her sixth cup of beer. “Hell yeah,” she drawls. “Y/N and Jane. Best night of my fuckin’ life.”

Natasha feels that wildly uncomfortable feeling of butterflies fluttering — no, thrashing, around in her stomach. It’s absolutely ridiculous that she’s so easily unsettled by you.

Said Jane Foster flushes in her seat, clearly embarrassed at having her sex life exposed. She waves a hand, trying to quiet down the growing hoots and whistles. “I mean, is it really that surprising, guys? I’m definitely not the only one! Okay, jerks, who else has laid with the famed Y/N L/N?”

Immediately, all eleven women in the dorm room have their hands raised. Well, all except Natasha, that is.

“Oh, she’s a free woman!” Valkyrie yells out, pumping her fist, and the crowd of women let out victorious cheers. “Our last standing soldier!”

Natasha smiles awkwardly in the limelight of all these older students, the strangling sensation in her gut growing stronger.

Seriously? ‘The Player’ has already slept with all these pretty girls in her second year? I would never sleep with someone who treats sex so meaninglessly…

Natasha refocuses on the game, dispelling all her thoughts that seemed to constantly circulate around you. In the bleachers, in the hallway, and now in a dorm party…

So why is Y/N L/N a muse in my mind? Why is she so inescapable?

After about six rounds of revealing shameful truths and accepting rather pointless dares, Natasha’s ready to ditch the scene altogether.

She’s barely touched any alcohol, but it was honestly a shame that her imagination was still so lucid. Getting some of that cheap beer into her system would probably help her to relax quicker, and to stop thinking about you.

“Hey, uh,” she whispers to Wanda. The older girl pulls her gaze away from the current life of the party to regard Natasha with a drunken smile.

“What’s up, Nat?” Wanda drawls, sprawling forward a little too close for comfort. Natasha cringes at her beer-tinted breath. Wanda murmurs softly, “Hey, you got a lil somethin’ in your eye. Looks like a little cloud… Oh, that’s just the light. Silly me, silly–”

“Wanda, I’m gonna head back now. Don’t worry about me,” Natasha says, slightly impatiently but affectionate nonetheless, patting Wanda’s head.

“Awh, okay,” Wanda responds drunkenly, breaking off into a little giggle as Natasha gets up. “Hey, Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t fall for the player, yeah?” Wanda asks with an innocent smile, but her eyes are reminiscent of a ghost doing its last haunting. Then Wanda’s gone, gone with the wind, her attention lost to the exhilarating game of truth and dare.

There’s a moment of quiet in Natasha’s mind, save for the explicit Nicki Minaj song playing in the background with lyrics that would make a stripper blush.

She had heard that simple statement all too many times. Almost like she was meant to hear it. Like it was a premonition, a foreshadowing.

With the odd feeling of being defenceless, Natasha makes a beeline for the door. She’s had enough of silly conservations and awful thoughts; conversations that encircled around the subject of The Player, and awful thoughts of hers that always ended up being about you.

However, a shining bottle of cheap alcohol catches Natasha’s attention from the makeshift bartending station, essentially a kitchen counter. “Wouldn’t hurt, I guess,” she mutters under her breath, reaching out to grab a bottle for herself.

“Ah, that beer’s shite. The good one’s in the cupboard.”

Embarrassingly startled by the familiar smooth voice that greets her, Natasha jumps in her own skin. You again, she thinks with such indignation. What kind of sheer audacity did you have to approach her, after you were making out with another girl just the other day–

All coherent thoughts left Natasha’s mind when her eyes rake over your short-sleeve compression shirt that clung to your abdomen and arms like a vacuum-sealed package. Paired with grey sweats, it was such a beguiling mixture of taut muscles and casual wear that had Natasha growing hotter under her skin.

“I guess it’s alright for me to assume I’ve chosen the right attire for today,” you say, folding your arms in a little bit of satisfaction. That has Natasha staring at the black tattoos that decorate your thick forearms, and she’s half-crazed by the alluring sight.

Perhaps you’re showing off a little more than you normally would, but the girl standing before you was one that had invaded your mind for days on end, which was entirely uncharacteristic of your constantly horny brain.

“Can I ask you a question?” Natasha asks snarkily, returning your confidence with her very own crossed arms. Your eyes don’t miss the way her awfully kissable lips form the words on her tongue, and you certainly don’t miss the way her crossed arms push up her cleavage.

You lick your lips imperceptibly, and you notice the way Natasha’s eyes follow the movement with a hawk-like gaze. “Go ahead, sweetheart,” you respond easily, taking a single step closer to the object of your desires.

Natasha scoffs at the pet name, but you can see your close proximity subverts her composure in the slightest. Unable to keep your hands to yourself, you reach out to place your hands on her altar-like hips. She bristles under your touch, but she doesn’t move.

“Why’re you so fucking arrogant?” Natasha finally asks, hating how breathless she sounds, struggling to keep cool as your ring-adorned hands thumb the material of her short dress. You’ve got her entrapped between the kitchen counter and your sinfully sculpted body, with no way of escape. (Not like Natasha was looking for one.)

“Brat.” The dry laugh that sounds from your throat has Natasha’s heart pounding, a choked sound of pleasure caught in the back of her throat. Your big hands have moved to her sides, cradling her waist tenderly but withholding power, as if you’re ready to dig your fingertips into her soft skin at any given moment.

She thinks it’s unfair, the way your eyes are damn near psychedelic. They’re screens of mercury, smouldering and smoking with the way it trails over her body. If you’re a spark of fire, Natasha is a pool of gasoline that feeds your will.

Hot lips slant against Natasha’s ear lobe, taking it between your teeth as she shudders. Natasha’s breathy release of air as she fights to keep silent has you tugging on her earlobe with pure want.

“Can I ask you a question?” you ask, your voice a touch lower than it had been before, your hands tightening its grip on her deadly hips, the metal of your rings cool against her hot skin.

The overwhelming sensation of your big hands, hot lips and sharp teeth is enough to have Natasha’s eyes fluttering shut. She almost loses control of herself, almost lets herself fall victim to your hypnotic touch — But then you pull away, and a desperate little whine nearly falls from Natasha’s lips.

The cheerleader swallows as she stares at your crafted face, your eyes darkened with something far deeper than want, your lips tugged upwards into a devilish smirk.

“My room or yours?”

Natasha would like to say that the rest was a blur, and her alcohol-tainted memories got lost in translation — but it was a shameful and unequivocal statement that she had been entirely sober, and yet recalled every single detail of that night to vivid precision.

***

Natasha remembers you pressing her up against your door, a fervent urgency of lust unlocked within the confines of your dorm.

“So fucking desperate,” you grunt, hips knocking into Natasha’s front as you pin her against the door, lithe legs wrapped around your muscled torso.

“Shut the fuck up,” she spits, throwing her head back as your sharp teeth sink into the softness of her porcelain neck. The edge of your canines are hard and unforgiving, just how Natasha likes it, just how you scatter dark hickeys across her pale skin.

You smirk at her brattiness, finding it an exceptionally arousing trait of hers. “Pretty girl, you’re not the one in charge,” you tease, with your words and with your hands, dragging your fingertips up and under her short dress.

Natasha remembers her fingers twisting into your hair as you play her like a fiddle, teasing and edging and so blatantly talented like a prodigal concertmaster.

She whines as the cool metal of your rings nudges her nipples, her sensitivity skyrocketing with the shock. “More,” she tries to demand, but it ends up sounding like a helpless whimper and your hands move with such purpose.

You don’t help her cause by taking a hardened bud between two fingers and tugging, cries and whimpers following your fingers. Heaven is the way her breasts look all marked up by your mouth, hardened nipples and raw skin dancing in your vision.

Natasha’s nails dig into your hardened abdomen, scraping at your every muscle for all it was worth. It was something about you, something about the look in your eye, something about the way you commandeered her body with such precision and control like it was meant to be.

Natasha remembers her complete relinquishment of power, giving herself up for you, with a sick urge to be fucked within an inch of her life and then some.

Your right hand slides across her damp inner thigh to brush at her demesnes, and the sheer wetness that awaits your fingers makes you growl against her skin. “So fucking wet,” you grunt, peeling apart the thin material of her panties that cling to her sodden pussy with strings of slick.

Natasha wails, face completely flushed and so utterly gorgeous, and you can’t help but meet her lips with clashing tongue and teeth. She moans as your pierced tongue explores her mouth, and you drink up her cries of pleasure.

“Wanna fuck you silly,” you pant against her ear, fingers tracing the outline of her pretty pussy, dragging arousal along with it. Your knee keeps her legs spread nicely apart for the taking, and the vulnerability you bring out of Natasha is perhaps also the hottest thing.

Humiliation is the way Natasha agrees so quickly, nodding dumbly in acquiescence, thinking it would be nice to feel her brain melt to mush with your thick fingers and prodding tongue.

Natasha remembers the earth-shattering pleasure that wracks her body, as you divulge in providing, by leaps and bounds, the best sex she’s ever had.

Three fingers slide in and out of her dripping cunt at a phenomenal pace, and Natasha’s panting like a dog, tight velvet walls clenching around the thickness of your fingers for all it’s worth.

Finger-fucking her against the door like a heaven-descent, you bask in Natasha’s cries of pleasure. It’s never been like this, never been this heated. With Natasha, you felt like you were ascending.

“You’re gonna make a mess on the fucking floor,” you bite, a low gasp caught in the back of your throat. Natasha’s head lolls to the side, high-pitched whimpers making themselves known as she drips down your wrist and her thighs.

Natasha remembers the unravelling, the way her body seizes up out of its own accord, electricity erupting behind her half-lidded eyes.

Your hands dig into the plush of her thighs as you bring Natasha to a stupendous climax. Your fingers curl harshly, hitting her sweet spot and drawing out obscene noises from her.

“Fuck–” Natasha chokes out, high-pitched and breathy and absolutely delightful. Her hips jerk in your hands as your fingers move inside her.

“Another,” you grunt, not a request, and before Natasha can get ahold of her senses your fingers are thrusting again. She wails as your wrist jackhammers into her wet cunt, slick sounds echoing around the four walls of your room.

The second orgasm arrives even more harshly than the first, and Natasha clings onto the broad muscles of your back as you pin her against the door, toes curling and eyes squeezing shut.

She thinks she could find solace in the way your arms entrap her in a certain type of warmth, almost as if you don’t want to let her go.

But that would just be a hopeless fantasy, wouldn’t it?

Natasha remembers waking up the next morning to an empty bed.

The morning air is too cold on her bare skin. Your side of the bed isn’t even warm anymore. You must’ve left ages ago, in the dark of the night, and that thought in itself has Natasha choking on emotions she’d rather not feel.

Her clothes are still strewn on the floor and the furniture is a mess, a mockery of how far she’d let you go last night, driven by an inescapable high.

This is the game you play. Toying with girls' hearts like it was child’s play, making them feel like they were one in a million for one night only. All that alluring charisma was ugly and falsified, viewed through rose-tinted glasses.

This is the game you play, and Natasha Romanoff had fallen victim to it.

Don’t fall for the player.

Now, it was just another warning sign that she’d overlooked, and she was just like those other girls, stumbling into your open arms and cocky smirk.

Vehement fury slugs inside the cheerleader, as she forcefully picks up her strewn clothes.

Then she looks around the dorm room, your room, and time stills for a moment.

She’d expected it to be somewhat furnished, like all other dorm rooms were, maybe a cactus in the corner or a poster of a rockstar. Instead, your walls are blank and there isn’t a trophy or an award in sight.

You’re the captain of the football team, above average in academics, yet there isn’t a trace of the mark you’ve left as a student at Avengers Institution. There isn’t a trace that you’re a living, breathing human, with emotions that craft your very humanity.

Scarily enough, she feels like she’s laid in the bed of a complete stranger.

And suddenly, Natasha understands.

Don’t fall for the player.

Suddenly, everything feels a little too real, and Natasha comprehends that the statement holds far more depth than what your reputation suggested.

You were just fucking scared.

Scared of commitment, scared of growing attached, scared of being abandoned. You feared getting your heart broken, and thus you feared the longevity of relationships that involved love and romance.

As Natasha picks up her strewn clothes from the floor, with aching limbs and dishevelled hair, only one statement rings in her mind.

Don’t fall for the player.

“Maybe I will,” Natasha whispers to the ghost of your handsome, misunderstood self in the room. “But haven’t you heard I always get what I want?”

***

You couldn’t fall asleep.

You watch the empty sky as you sit on the empty rooftop of the school at four in the morning, a cigarette hanging limp between your lips. There’s an underlying anger bubbling beneath your skin, an itch that you can’t find, simply stewing there to your frustration.

Romance was bullshit.

It was plainly obvious from the way girls approached you. Flirty eyes and feather-light touches meant only one thing. And they were all so pretty, so who were you to complain, right?

All those girls always ended up in your dorm bed, sweaty and short of breath. Your heart would pound, and your mind would go wild with endless possibilities of what could happen if they just stayed.

“You can stay if you want,” you muttered off-handedly to one of your first few hookups in college. The look that the girl returned was so unimpressed that you never asked that question again.

But it was okay, because sex was something that you were good at, and those girls had their fun. It was okay, even if there was something missing. It was okay that your reputation preceded your identity. Even if those expectations spiralled far beyond your control.

With every passing girl you brought to bed, the gnawing hole in your chest only grew bigger. You craved something that you couldn’t obtain. Even if your heart was crawling out of its ribcage every time a girl breathed your name, every time she laid a hand on your chest.

Last night, Natasha Romanoff took that gaping hole in your chest and ripped it right open.

“Please, Y/N,” Natasha had whined, and there was reverent devotion in the way you held her hips, in the way you pulled her close.

“Stay,” you had wanted to whisper, so badly, so many times, but her hands were streaking red marks down your back and her body was shuddering under yours.

So you kept your forbidden mouth shut and continued to do what you did best. All the ‘what-ifs’ were just hopeless dreams. You couldn’t stay, you couldn’t commit. You weren’t allowed to, not after the expectations that had been set for you.

Romance was bullshit, after all.

“You seem troubled,” a female voice announces from behind you, but you don’t bother to turn back. Taking your silence as consent, the girl sits next to you.

“Give me a light,” the girl says, leaning closer to you, and only then do you turn to look her over. Blonde girl, 5’8, blue eyes. Freshman.

“Sharon Carter, right?” you ask indifferently, and the girl lets out a bemused huff as she makes her comfortable next to you.

“Wow, so you do know every girl in this school,” Sharon comments, and there’s a teasing lilt in her voice that hints at how this is going to end up.

You pull out a cigarette, passing it over to the blonde girl, noting how her fingertips brush over yours for a second too long. “Maybe I do,” you respond with false cockiness, the smirk overtaking your face almost unconsciously.

This is the right thing to do, you convince yourself, as Sharon’s hand creeps to your thigh. One girl after the other. You couldn’t get attached.

“Impressive. Put away your light. It’s healthier to destress in another way,” Sharon whispers, tossing her cigarette to the rough concrete.

What a waste, you think, but then the same could be said about a lot of other things in your life.

For a fraction of a second, you contemplate your existence. You wonder why you’ve ended up this way. What you’ve done to deserve girls throwing themselves at you when you began to despise all of them.

When Sharon brings her lips closer to yours, and you find yourself meeting her halfway, because you’ve done it so many times.

There’s this tugging of your heart that almost feels like guilt, but you shove it down and drag your tongue between a set of lips. All too easily, your hands draw patterns across her chest and her thighs, a mastered craft that came mechanically.

Even if it is the right thing to do, it doesn’t feel right.

Your head is swimming with unbearable thoughts of Natasha Romanoff, and you try to erase her on the tongue of another girl who could never compare.

It doesn’t feel right, but it’s the easy way out, and it’s what’s expected of you.

Always has been.

***

“Fuck, Y/N—” is the first thing Natasha hears when she meanders into the bathroom the morning after.

She had wanted to get an early start on the new morning, but alas, fate had it out for her.

For a while, Natasha is surprised that she isn’t surprised. You’ve got a pretty blonde girl on the bathroom counter, one hand up her skirt and the other twisted in her hair.

The girl throws her head back in a bout of pleasure, and Natasha’s thinking that maybe she looks a little familiar. It’s her cheekbones, strung high like a haughty prick. “Daddy’s money always gets what you want, hm?” rings in her head.

A spark of fire burns any ounce of indifference Natasha has to ashes. Sharon Fucking Carter.

Sharon’s painted nails were digging into the expanse of your shoulder blades, and it looked downright painful. Your dexterous fingers were plunging into her sodden cunt, rendering her barely coherent.

It all looks so wrong, and Natasha wants to crawl out of her skin before the jealousy eats her alive.

“Fucking hypocrite, aren’t you?” Natasha spits venomously, hands clenched into fists of fury, making her presence known.

When Sharon jumps away from you like she’s been burned, Natasha can’t help but let evil glee surge through her stomach. Serves you right, she thinks, staring at your dishevelled hair that somehow only made you look more handsome.

It’s different, this time, with your eyes darting as if you were unsure of yourself. (Astonishing, considering your mean streak of being cold as ice.) There’s resentment in the way your face sets, and a type of hurt that causes Natasha to falter.

“Daddy’s little bitch,” Sharon scoffs, fixing her skirt with no attempt to hide her disdain. “Why don’t you fuck off, huh?”

Natasha scoffs, eyes widening in fractional aggression. “I-”

“You should go, Carter,” you say monotonously, almost defeated but wavering on the edge of frustration.

The blonde girl whips her head around to stare at you with incredulousness written in her wide eyes. She lets out a dry laugh of betrayal. “Fuck, look at the two of you. Match made in hell.”

The bathroom door slams shut with a piercing thud. Both you and Natasha don’t flinch.

“You didn’t have to call Sharon a hypocrite,” you mumble, flicking your head back to look in the mirror.

There’s something off about you that no one else has ever had the privilege of seeing. It makes Natasha’s heart soar and her blood boil simultaneously.

“She wasn’t the one I was calling a hypocrite.”

A moment passes between the two of you where you flick an invisible switch.

“I’m the hypocrite, Romanoff?” you ask, evidently provoked. A crazed look in your eyes draws Natasha’s attention, because you’re putting on a false facade all over again.

“Am I the hypocrite for fucking another girl? It’s all I do, isn’t it? That’s what I’m known for. You don’t get to be so butthurt because you were just a one-night.”

A sickly sourness lines your mouth as you spew words that aren’t true, because your heart was fighting every battle to get to Natasha Romanoff.

“What you’re failing to realise,” Natasha begins stately. “Is that this isn’t about me. Fuck it if I’m just another girl on your ever-growing fuck list. Because maybe I am. But you’re lying to yourself if you think you’re happy.”

“Oh, so now you’re determining my emotions for me,” you retort with as much snark as you can muster. “You weren’t acting this high and mighty last night in my bed.”

“Quit the act,” Natasha scoffs, then letting a bittersweet smile cross her face. “You’re hiding behind weak retorts because you’re scared. Scared of being alone. But you don’t have to be anymore.”

Lost, your hands twitch, and you allow yourself to believe that maybe Natasha is your salvation. Defense mechanisms kick in, but you know you’re fighting a losing battle.

“Sorry to disappoint, Romanoff, but don’t try to play therapist. I’m not some kind of victim you’re going to diagnose,” you sneer. “I’m free to do whatever the fuck I want without your judgment.”

“Free?” Natasha asks, an incredulous look in her eyes. She laughs in mockery with an unwavering gaze. “You’re not free. You can’t go a day without fucking a girl. You’re a prisoner, and you’re shackled by your own desires and wants. Except this time, that luxury has become an addictive coping mechanism.”

Dark eyes flash with a glimmer of danger, and you’re so much like a trapped animal gone hostile that Natasha’s heart breaks a little.

“You’re wrong,” you answer, but your hands are shaking so violently that you hardly seem like the person she once thought you were.

Where complete equilibrium once was, a desperate frenzy of unease is what exudes from you now. Natasha feels a twinge in her heart when you whisper “You’re wrong,” again, this time substantially more quiet and resigned.

“Prove it, then,” Natasha challenges, bringing a hand up to cup the side of your face. Her eyes search yours so desperately, and you’ve stripped naked in front of a hundred girls, but you’ve never felt more vulnerable. “Prove that you’re more than whatever they say about you.”

With the strange urge of tears pricking at your eyes, you stare at Natasha with all the hopelessness any broken heart could muster, and for a moment you can see the doubt in her eyes. Like you’ve disappointed her, just like all the girls who’s hearts you’ve broken.

But when you first kissed Natasha Romanoff, it was never going to be just another one-night, was it?

With the final semblance of humanity in your burden-stricken mortality, you drag a shaky thumb along Natasha’s cheekbones like it’s the most delicate thing in the world, and the deeply-rooted self-loathing inside you fades away, just a little bit.

Your parted lips meet Natasha’s in a prologue to an unfinished symphony. You delve in like she’s your last lifeline, and maybe Natasha is, from the way she rests her fingers on your hips with a gentleness you’ve never experienced.

A carnal urge washes over you, because this time you’re not afraid to admit that you want Natasha Romanoff. You spread your hands, feeling up as much of her as you can, running it down her back then squeezing at her rounded ass—

And then Natasha’s pulling away, and only then do you hear the cluster of footsteps approaching the washroom.

“Tonight,” she whispers with a hint of smirk. Natasha goes on her tippy-toes to press a kiss on the tip of your nose, and then she’s gone.

You stand there with wide eyes, in the washroom where students filter in, lingering with the ghost of Natasha Romanoff’s lips and a piece of your heart melted onto the floor.

***

You were positive you were going to start ripping off your skin if you didn’t start fucking Natasha Romanoff in this exact moment.

But that would be a bad idea, because you were in the middle of a psychology lecture, and Professor Harkness probably wouldn’t appreciate that.

After a torturous hour of you shifting in your seat, you sprint out the lecture hall. Thanking the heavens that it was your last lesson of the day, you dodge and weave through the crowd of students in the hallway.

“Hey, Y/N,” A small group of sophomore girls call out, checking you out like a piece of meat. Normally, their flirtatious winks and little skirts would have you folded in an instant, but you couldn’t wait a moment longer.

You send them a polite smile and continue on your hasteful journey, missing the comical way their faces fall.

Upon your dutiful research, you knew where Natasha’s dorm was located, but you planned to stop by your own dorm to pick up a little something. (Okay, maybe the something wasn’t that little.) You yank open your door with purpose—

Only to find Natasha already sprawled out on your dorm bed, dressed in one of your shirts and nothing else. You almost pass out. Almost.

“Nat,” you groan, locking the door behind you. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Not before I come, I’m afraid,” Natasha sighs with a pleased smile. She beckons you over with a come-hither motion, spreading her legs in invitation.

You bite back an affected noise in the back of your throat, pushing Natasha back down on to the bed with fervour. With a crushing sense of urgency, you slide your hand between her pretty thighs, not waiting a single moment.

“Slow down,” Natasha instructs, tilting your head up to stare at her blown pupils. “Take your time. Don’t just fuck me. Do it like you mean it.”

Upon hearing those words, a rush of pride washes over you and then you’re so eager to please, desperate to somehow prove yourself.

Your fingers find the hem of her shirt and tug it over her head, revealing the bare mounds that are Natasha’s tits. A shaky exhale leaves your lips as your fingertips experimentally brush over her hardened buds.

“God, you’re built,” Natasha moans, running her hands over the edges and curves of your muscle. It’s tight and taut under her touch, so defined and carved.

You shudder under her explorative touch, returning your attention back to the beautiful girl in front of you.

You were so used to hot, fast, explosive sex that turning back time was such a jarring awakening of everything that you were missing out on.

It put things into perspective, that you had never actually made love. And since this was your first time, you were determined to do it right, especially for Natasha.

You trail open-mouthed kisses down her sternum and stomach, savouring the taste of her skin. Your hands grasp at her tits, enjoying the feel of it in your hands.

You’re experiencing things you never got to experience, like the rise and fall of Natasha’s pale chest, the way her eyelids flutter gently.

Temporarily avoiding where she needed you most, you hear Natasha let out a whine. You tease her hole with your tongue, smearing her slick messily.

“Fuck,” Natasha curses, winding her fingers into your hair. “Please, I need it,” she whines, as you lick at her clit.

“M’kay, baby,” you mumble against her wet folds, because you could never deny Natasha of anything, could you?

You slide your tongue in her twitching pussy, and begin one of the most passionate love-making sessions

You listen out for when Natasha hitches her breath, when her hips stutter, when she mewls out. You learn the instrument of her body, understand and test out the different reactions you can draw out.

After minutes of what seem like pure bliss with erratic breaths and pleading keening, you speed up and the reaction is immaculate.

“Y/N,” Natasha cries, as your tongue goes in and out of her dripping cunt. Her slick goes down her thighs and your chin, making the most obscene noises.

It’s wet and squelching, and you proceed to devour Natasha’s pussy for everything it’s worth.

For a millisecond, Natasha wonders if anyone has ever died from being eaten out too passionately. Erotic Oral Overdrive, maybe.

Her first orgasm comes in a gradual crescendo, her hips rocking in waves as you dutifully match her unwinding.

Natasha lets her eyes flutter shut as the moment overwhelms her senses. Until the silence is finally broken by you.

“Got a little something for you,” you say with a quirked brow, sliding your hand into the bedside cabinet to retrieve that little something.

“Oh, fuck,” Natasha whines, upon seeing the biggest strap-on toy she’s ever had her eyes upon in her life.

You ease in the cock with no amount of trouble, through Natasha’s already slick cunt. You start with a gentle pace, because you’re trying to be slow.

Apparently, Natasha has different plans this time around.

“Harder,” Natasha growls, digging her nails into your muscled back. You let out a low gasp, because you’re already so deep inside her divine pussy, and you didn’t think you could go any deeper.

Gripping her thighs and spreading it as far apart as you can, you thrust impossibly deeper and your hips slap against Natasha’s.

Her eyes roll back, and she arches off the bed as you continue to thrust and make a nest for yourself inside her.

“Y/N, ungh– please, fuck—” Curled toes wrap around your back as she writhes against the bed.

With the way your cock bulges against her skin, you’re quite sure you could actually split Natasha in half. She’s clawing at your back, calling out your name to the ceiling.

When you pull out, Natasha whines, velvet walls clenching tighter around to keep you deep inside. But then you thrust all the way in again and a scream rings around your dorm room.

You don’t give a flying fuck about the noise level as you pound into Natasha, splitting open her pretty little pussy. “So fucking tight and wet,” you moan into her ear. “All for me, baby?”

It’s fucking possesive, the way you manhandle her to look at her rolled-back eyes and slack jaw.

“Mhm– yes! Oh God, yes, please, Y/N!” Natasha shrieks, clenching so tight you swear you can feel her wet pulse through the huge strap-on.

But it isn’t just any strap-on, and Natasha realises this with a breathy gasp, because it’s a squirting strap-on, and then you’re unloading into her ruined cunt with a deep growl.

Natasha wails, legs in the air, as you pump your seed into her pussy. It’s thick and flows out in pumps, and she milks your cock dry.

“Good girl, Nat,” you breathe, rocking in slow motions so she can recover from her high.

Finally, you collapse on top of Natasha as she lets out a breathy laugh. “What happened to not fucking the same girl twice?”

“You’re infuriating,” you grunt, rolling your hips once in retaliation. You delight the small victory of Natasha whimpering under you.

Natasha rolls her eyes at your impertinence, leaning up to press a small kiss on your forehead. “Infuriating? More like irresistible.”

It’s your turn to laugh, grasping her hips and pulling her impossibly closer. “You’re right,” you whisper truthfully. You think you could stay like this forever.

“Stay if you dare,” Natasha whispers, letting her hand trace over the curvature of your angled face. As you lay above her, you turn your head so that your lips brush against her palm.

Your warm lips are so delicate that Natasha could almost weep, and that’s all the response she needs before breathing a gentle sigh, hence letting sleep drift her consciousness away.

For the first night amongst many, a quiet calm settles in your dorm room ‘til the sun rises again.

***

Don’t fall for the player.

Once upon a time, that used to be a warning, circulating within the hallways of Avengers Institution, whispered under hushed breaths and divine lips.

Tried and true, was the rumour that every single girl in this school would eventually fall victim to The Player’s effortless charisma and unstoppable magnetism.

And this might be true, because whenever you strolled the hallways or scored a touchdown, you were bound to have admirers cheering your name or flirty winks thrown in your way — However, there was a catalyst. A change, if you would.

Boys looked on in jealousy, girls looked on in intrigue. (Or maybe jealousy, too.) What used to be a smooth mouth and wandering hands became a delicate kind of control, saved for only one particular student.

Gone was your blatant charisma and swagger in treating other girls, because now there was only one on your mind — Natasha Romanoff. Be it in on the bleachers, in the hallways, or during dorm parties, never were you seen without the girl who always got what she wanted.

And that included the very subject of the mantra that defined Avengers Institution:

Don’t fall for the player.

so... this was one full month of work. i've never been this dedicated to a singular project. wow. uh, please reblog. it's the only true way of supporting your little creators on this app, so help me out here. thanks for reading. out of curiosity, which part did you like the most?

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

[kujousgf]

WEST COAST. mdni. 18+.

pairings: older!natasha romanoff + f!maximoff!reader

summary: in which natasha agrees to help with a bake sale and you both stumble into admitting your feelings

warnings: legal age gap (natasha is 43 and reader is 22), pining lesbians, top!natasha, bottom!reader, finger sucking, light dom/sub dynamics, fingering, brief daddy kink

wc: 5.7k

a/n: thank you very much for this request, it gave me brain worms, also this is not proof read so :]

“Come on, Tash, please? Mom said you’d go with me because she’ll be busy with B and T’s school fair.” You practically beg the older woman, holding your cell phone carefully between your cheek and shoulder as you finish mixing up the ingredients for the cupcakes you were baking; it wouldn’t be the first time you dropped it in some cake batter if you weren’t careful. Half of them were for Billy and Tommy’s school fair and the other half were for the bake sale you were helping out with at your university. You had taken it upon yourself to do the baking this year because you knew your mother, Wanda, would be busy with work and getting your younger brothers ready for the fair. They were always very hyper and excitable, it took a lot to round them up. You didn’t really mind though, you did have some extra free time and you always got restless when you truly had nothing to do.

Natasha chuckles on the other end of the phone, “Your mom can say anything she wants, sweetheart. That doesn’t make it true, that just makes her Wanda.” She can practically hear you rolling your eyes as you groan at her response. She’s typing lazily with one hand as the other holds her cellphone, not paying nearly as much attention to her work as she should, especially with the deadlines coming up for this quarter. She can’t help it, though, you rarely call her like this, and when you do she wants to give you as much attention as she possibly can. “Besides, I thought this was something you could handle on your own. You’re a big girl, aren’t you? A little bake sale shouldn’t scare you.”

“Ugh, I’m not scared, you jerk. I just think it would be a little easier if I had someone to help me! And, I want to check out everything else too. I heard the haunted house this year is gonna be amazing! Peter’s working on it with MJ, I just have to go,” you put the phone down on the counter and put it on speaker, not wanting to risk dropping it while you pour the batter into the cupcake tray; that wouldn’t be the first time either. “It won’t be as much fun if I’m by myself, and Kate will be busy trying to make people want to join the archery club. Please? It’ll be so fun, I’ll even give you a cupcake for free.” You try to bargain with her, knowing that she’s always been a fan of your baking since she’s so terrible at it herself.

The bake sale was a part of your university’s fall celebration. Every October, they held a bake sale, a club fair, a haunted house, games and some other things in the week leading up to Halloween. This was your fourth one, and usually, you’d force your friend Kate to help you, but this year she’d agreed to help out with the archery club before you could ask. Not that you minded, because when you brought it up, your mother had absentmindedly suggested that maybe Natasha could help you since she couldn’t, and you would never say no to spending time with the redhead. You don’t know when exactly your schoolgirl crush on your mother’s friend turned into the very real thing it was now. You wouldn’t even say it was a crush because at this point you were certain you were damn near in love with the older woman, but you knew it was something you could never have. So, even as you and Natasha grew closer as you grew older, becoming something akin to friends now that you’ve reached your early twenties, all you could do was cherish the time you got together. 

You can hear Natasha sigh before she responds, “Fine, but you better make it two or I’m leaving before you get to that haunted house.” You’re about to thank her profusely before she speaks again, effectively cutting you off before you even started, “Now, listen, I’d love to stay on the phone with you, but if I’m gonna take the day off tomorrow, I’ve got some work to finish. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” 

You both bid each other goodbye and once you hang up the phone, you smile giddily. Natasha was going to take the day off tomorrow for you. Natasha, who was always busy with work, was going to take the day off so she could help you with your silly fall bake sale. “Oh my God… Oh my God!” You feel like a teenage girl with a crush again, getting so excited over something so simple, but you just can’t help it because you know if anyone else had asked, Natasha would have said no. You check the time to make sure none of your family members would be home soon before you call Kate. You just have to tell her about this. You have to get out all your nervous excitement and giddiness before you see Natasha tomorrow, you’ve always been afraid she could see right through you and your feelings. You didn’t need to be more obvious than usual tomorrow. 

And, yeah, you do make two cupcakes specially for Natasha with red icing because you know it’s her favorite color even though the rest of the icing is orange and black. 

-

Tomorrow comes quicker than both you and Natasha would like. You, because you still don’t know what to wear, and honestly, you’re a little worried Kate might come by and say something stupid. She’s always telling you to just put it out there and let Natasha know how you feel, but you can name at least a thousand reasons why that is the worst idea she’s ever had. Not including when she broke the church’s bell tower by accident when she was a freshman. First and foremost being that Natasha is your mother’s best friend, Natasha is twice your age, and ruining the little platonic relationship that you have with Natasha would hurt you more than when Karolina Dean moved away in the seventh grade when the two of you had what you would now call some sort of situationship. 

And Natasha, because she doesn’t really know why she agreed to do this at all. She really does have work she needs to get done and there’s truly no reason she couldn’t have told you to ask one of your university friends to help you, she knows Kate isn’t your only friend, far from it. Well, the first part of that is a lie– she does know why. She knows exactly why she agreed to help you, she agreed because you asked. What she doesn’t know is what she’s going to do around you today with no one as buffer. No Wanda, no Billy, no Tommy, not even her sister Yelena, it’s just you and her. Sure, there would be other students on campus and coming up to the bake sale table, but in her mind, it’s still just you and her. She doesn’t like when it’s just you and her, because when it is everything feels too real. Suddenly, when it’s just the two of you, there’s no reason for her to hold back. And she knows she needs to hold back, she has to because there’s no world in which you would ever be allowed to be hers. 

You’re holding up different sweaters in the mirror, trying to figure out which looks better with the particular shade of denim you’re wearing, when you hear a knock on your door and your mother walks in. “What’s up?” You turn your head to look at her before turning back to the mirror, still trying to decide. “The one with the brown in it,” she hums, walking over to sit on your bed. She’d always been able to tell just what you were thinking even if you didn’t ask. “You’re overthinking this sweater a lot. Are you sure it’s just Natasha that’s going to be with you today?” You weren’t prepared for her question and your eyes widen just the slightest and you hope she doesn’t notice. “Yeah, just Natasha. Kate’s doing her archery thing, and I think America is helping MJ and Peter with the haunted house.”

“Okay… Well, if there was someone, you know it’s okay for you to tell me, right?”

“Mom!” You groan, she seriously cannot be doing this right now. You’re a grown woman, for god’s sake… but you do appreciate how much she cares for you, you just can’t tell her. Ever.

“Alright, alright! I just wanted you to know. The boys and I are going to be leaving in a few minutes. You should come say goodbye to them, I think they’re going to stay at your father’s tonight...”

You make a noise of agreement, nodding. You know there was a ‘but’ that she wanted to say, but you both knew what it was without her saying it out loud. They were supposed to stay with Vision last weekend too, but that never happened. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.” 

Wanda squeezes your shoulder as she walks past you, and you wait until she’s shut the door before you let your head fall back slightly, staring up at the ceiling. You can’t help but think she’s known for a while, and you feel slightly nauseous at the fact. If she knows, maybe Natasha does too, and that just can’t happen. 

Natasha arrives a few minutes after Wanda and the boys leave, opting to pull into the driveway when she sees the lack of her friend’s minivan in it. She told you she’d pick you up because it made no sense to take two cars and she had to pass your house to get to the university anyway. She takes two seconds before she turns the car off and gets out. She’s too old to be acting like an insecure teenager, she can do this. She’s dressed for the occasion, wanting to fit into the fall theme, wearing a nice knit sweater and a casual pair of pants. 

Her heart squeezes when you open the door and you’re wearing your own knit sweater, she forgot how cute you looked during the fall. “Tasha! I’ll just be a few minutes, I have to get everything packed up and put my shoes on, but then we can go. Come in!” You’re out of her sight as quick as you stepped into it, wanting to get everything done as quickly as possible. You didn’t want to make her wait. 

“I was hoping you wouldn’t make me stand out here the whole time.” Natasha steps inside, wiping any dirt off of the bottom of her boots on the doormat. She’d take them off, but there’s no point if you’ll just be leaving in a few minutes, anyway. Sue her. “Where are those cupcakes I was promised?”

“They’re on the counter, the red ones.” You call out from the kitchen, you weren’t expecting her so early or maybe you’d lost track of time after you said your goodbyes to everyone earlier. It’s a comfortable silence as you move around the room, packing everything up while Natasha eats her cupcakes, offering to help you every few minutes, but you just wave her off. She wouldn’t usually let you do that, but she was enjoying the food, so she’d settle for not letting you bring anything out to the car, she’d do that herself. 

“Okay, done!” You say, proud of how quickly you’d gotten everything done, and turn to look at Natasha only to find her already looking at you. You feel heat rush to your cheeks and you avert your gaze quickly. “I can see that. You put your shoes on and I’ll bring everything out to the car.” She doesn’t phrase it as a question, but you open your mouth to object anyway, only to be interrupted before you can speak, “It’ll be faster this way, won’t it? Go put your shoes on, cupcake.”

The name leaves you grumbling as you huff and walk out of the kitchen, knowing she’s right. Natasha only chuckles before she starts bringing everything out to her car, making sure that nothing is going to accidentally get squished or have their containers tipped over. Once everything is settled, she grabs the latte from the cupholder in the front seat and meets you at your front door as you’re locking it, “This is for you because I know you spent way too long in the kitchen last night.” 

“Non-dairy?”

“Of course.”

“Then thank you.” You take the cup from her, your breath hitching when your fingers brush and bring it up to your lips to take a drink. “Oh my God, this is good.”

“I figured you’d like it. Now, come on, weren’t you the one who said we needed to get there early?”

-

The car ride passes comfortably, with the occasional small talk, but mostly the radio playing quietly in the background while you sip on your latte and Natasha taps against the steering wheel in time with the song. You find that you don’t need to talk to enjoy your time with her, just being with her is enough. Feeling her presence around you is enough for you to feel relaxed and get that warm feeling that only Natasha can give you. When you arrive and Natasha finds somewhere to park, you take a quick scan of the quad. Thankfully, she was able to find close parking, which is a miracle, really. Your eyes light up when you spot Professor Potts standing near an empty table which you can now only assume is for the bake sale. 

“I’ll be right back, I just have to go talk to Professor Potts for a second.” You point behind you with your thumb and then turn to leave. You only take two steps before you’re turning your head to look at Natasha again, “But, actually, since I know you won’t let me help, you can start bringing everything over to the table. I’ll be right next to it.”

Natasha laughs a little under her breath at how quickly you went from ‘you’re not carrying everything yourself, Tasha’ in the car to ‘actually, you do everything’ now that you were actually here. “Yes, Ma’am.” She teases, and you roll your eyes at her before starting to walk over. 

It doesn’t actually take long for Natasha to bring everything over to the table, and by the time she’s done, you’re wrapping up your conversation with Professor Potts– Pepper, as you usually call her. You were just double checking the details of the bake sale and what the prices were supposed to be before you properly set everything up, but you didn’t think Natasha would be particularly interested in that conversation, so you figured she’d be happy enough to bring everything over while you talked. “Oh! Pepper, this is Natasha. Natasha, this is Pepper. She’s one of the professors who helps run the student societies!”

“It’s nice to meet you, Natasha. I didn’t realize Y/N was bringing her partner today.” Pepper smiles and holds her hand out for Natasha to shake. 

“Oh, she’s n–”

“It’s nice to meet you as well. It was a bit of a last minute thing, something about Kate and archery, but I’m sure it’ll be fun.” Natasha shakes Pepper’s hand, mirroring the other woman’s smile. 

“Speaking of Kate and archery, I’m sure you two can manage this just fine on your own, because I have to go find her and make sure that her ‘advertising’ of the archery club doesn’t include any actual arrows this time.” Pepper sighs, and Natasha just laughs like she knows exactly what it’s like to deal with Kate’s antics, before Pepper walks off.

You stare at Natasha wordlessly for a couple of seconds, thinking maybe she’s going to say something about the fact that she just implied the two of you are together, but instead she just raises an eyebrow at you. “Are you going to tell me how you want this table set up or am I just supposed to guess?”

“Oh– no, yeah, I’ll help.” Your cheeks heat up as you start telling her where you want everything placed and start to write the prices on the little chalkboard easel Pepper had put on the table. You quickly forget all about the incident as you start setting things up and your friends stop by the table to talk before going to tend to their own responsibilities. You don’t really pick up on the way they all point out Natasha’s presence, meaning to tease you, but you just tell them happily that she’d agreed to help because Kate couldn’t. 

The rest of the bake sale goes on like this until you run out of things to sell, some people making comments about how good of a pair you and Natasha made or saying something about how they didn’t realize you’d have someone with you here today. You seemed to ignore it, not saying anything about it or giving any indication that it made you uncomfortable, but Natasha was quick to pick up on what the implications were. It didn’t help, she realized, that the color palettes the two of you chose to wear complimented each other so well that it looked a little like your outfits were matching. 

The way in which you acted as if these comments were normal and that you might have expected them or even welcomed them makes Natasha’s brain go haywire. She can’t help but think of all the things this could possibly mean, but the final thought her brain lands on is that she can’t help but wonder if it would be wrong of her to bask in this for just a little bit. She had already not corrected Pepper when she implied you were together– though, that was more so because she didn’t want to embarrass either of you. So would it be so wrong for her to lean into that? To let everyone think you were a couple? To treat you like you were her’s for just a little bit? She doesn’t think so. 

You’re in almost a daze as the rest of the day goes by. Natasha takes you to the haunted house like you wanted and holds your hand the whole time so you don’t get too scared. If you had known Yelena was helping inside the house, you might not have wanted to go so bad. She’s still holding your hand when you exit the haunted house, and she continues to hold it when you talk to Peter and MJ when you spot them outside. She lets go when she gets a phone call and gives you an apologetic smile and excuses herself, but not before giving your hand a little squeeze, and you feel your heart leap in your chest. All of this feels too natural, being with Natasha like this. Holding her hand, laughing with her, walking with her. It’s now when you realize just how close you and Natasha have been all day and you stumble in the middle of your sentence while talking to MJ. 

“You okay there?”

“Yeah!” It comes out too loud and too quickly, “yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired, you know. Long day and late night last night baking.” 

“Mm… Nothing to do with your woman over there?” MJ points not so subtly over at where Natasha is currently talking on the phone.

Your eyes go wide, “She’s not– she’s not my woman, MJ!”

“You’ve been holding hands this whole time and she’s… here instead of at work,” she gives you a look like she doesn’t believe you at all, “seems like your woman to me.”

“Yeah! Mr. Stark only ever takes time away from work if Ms. Potts asks him to and you know how they are, Y/N.” Peter chimes in.

You feel your face go red hot and you groan, “can we please stop talking about this right now?”

“Stop talking about what?” You jump when Natasha suddenly appears beside you and wraps her arm around your waist. 

“Oh, we were just talking about how scared Y/N got in the haunted house.” MJ lies smoothly before giving you a look. 

“Yes, but now we’re done talking about that and we should get back to our table to clean up properly.” You change the subject, trying not to focus on Natasha’s arm wrapped around you, but it’s lighting your body on fire and it’s very hard to focus on anything else. She squeezes your side softly and nods, “sure. It was nice talking to you, MJ, Peter. Good job on the haunted house.”

You barely let Peter get out a “Thanks, Ms. Romanoff!” before you’re slipping out of Natasha’s hold to grab her hand and practically dragging her away from them. She heard the conversation starting from you stuttering over the implication that you’re together, but for you, she can pretend she didn’t hear a thing. So, instead of bringing it up, she gives your hand a soft squeeze. “It’s okay that you were scared, you know? You don’t need to be embarrassed, Yelena can be pretty terrifying when you actually get a look at her.”

“Tasha!” You scold, swatting at her shoulder, “don’t be mean to your sister,” but you can’t help but giggle just a little bit. She only chuckles, and despite the way you’re both struggling to decide whether to bring your feelings up or not, you settle into the comfortable existence you share with each other. 

Before you know it, you’re in Natasha’s car again and on your way to her house. She said she just had a couple of things to do in her home office before she would take you home again, but she would try to be as quick as possible. Technically speaking, your mother should be done with Billy and Tommy’s school fair and you could just ask her to come pick you up, but you don’t tell Natasha that. You would much rather get to spend some extra time with the older woman (and you love the way her house smells) than go home and inevitably spiral as you think about the day and everything that’s happened with her before calling Kate and spilling everything. 

When you get there, she tells you to make yourself comfortable and help yourself to anything in the kitchen if you want to before she disappears into her office at the end of the hall. You settle down on her couch and scroll through your phone for a few minutes before you start to get bored. You consider the fact that Natasha is working on her day off and think that maybe she’d appreciate a coffee, especially if she didn’t have to make it herself, so you stand up and wander into the kitchen. It’s nice and modern, but it has a few personal touches that make it distinctly Natasha. You notice that the coffee maker is right on top of the counter and you look in the cupboard for a mug before you get started on making her coffee. 

You’re pretty sure that the only thing Natasha likes in her coffee is a little bit of sugar, so you take a little look around the pantry until you find some, and when the coffee is ready, you pour it into the mug before adding a little sugar. You hum to yourself and make sure you haven’t spilled anything on the counter, picking up the mug and then starting the path to Natasha’s office. This all feels so natural, that the usual nervousness of doing something like this for the older woman doesn’t even creep in until you actually see her. 

You knock on the door, waiting a second before opening it with your free hand. “Tasha?” You push the door open and Natasha looks up from the paperwork on her desk to greet you with a smile. “You get bored out there, sweetheart?” She puts her glasses up on the top of her head and turns to look at you properly. 

“I. um, made you coffee. I figured you might want some since you weren’t expecting to have to work today.” You walk towards her desk and when you’re close enough, she takes the mug from you and leans up to press a soft kiss to your lips as a sign of her gratitude, “thank you, sweetheart.”

Your brain short circuits.

She almost drops the mug onto the floor. 

You just look at her, frozen, for a few seconds as you watch the wheels turning in her head. She puts the mug down on the desk carefully as she tries to figure out what exactly she’s going to say now. She hadn’t even really thought about it before it happened, it just felt so natural and like something she’s supposed to and allowed to do. But in reality, kissing you has never been any of those things. She’s never done that before even that one time you got so drunk, you practically begged her to. She’s been very careful with her actions and with restraining herself, but now? What does she do now?

“Natasha...” Your voice comes out almost like a whisper and for some reason, you’re a little afraid that she’ll tell you to leave. That she had just been caught in the moment and she would never knowingly kiss you under any other circumstance. 

Natasha opens her mouth to speak, but then she gets a proper look at you standing nervously in front of her and she mutters a ‘fuck it’ under her breath. “Come here, baby.” She pushes her desk chair out slightly and guides you into her lap without any kind of resistance from you. You fidget in her lap, not used to this kind of proximity with the older woman. “I’m gonna kiss you again, alright?”

With those words, it’s like a switch flips and you surge forward to crash your lips against hers. She lets out a little surprised noise before she kisses you back properly, moving her lips against yours and resting her hands on your hips. She lets you lead for a bit until you get a bit too bold for her liking and she grips your hips harder as a warning. She was in charge, not you, and she was going to make that very clear. 

Almost immediately she’s dominating the kiss, and you tangle your fingers in her hair. Her glasses fall off somewhere behind her, but neither of you really care enough to check where. You only pull away because you need to breathe, and when you do, your chest is heaving and you’re a little dazed. Natasha coos and reaches up to cup your cheek, rubbing her thumb against your soft skin. “Do you need a little break, sweetheart, hm? You look a bit flustered.” She teases before swiping her thumb across your bottom lip, and you grumble slightly, “I’m not–” 

Natasha pushes her thumb into your mouth and presses down on your tongue before you can finish, “ah, ah, don’t talk back to me, Y/N,” she scolds, and you whine quietly. You want to bite down on her thumb in retaliation for the use of your actual name, but you know that will only make things worse for you. Not that things are particularly bad right now, you’d probably take anything Natasha gave you, but you’d prefer her cooing over you and doting on you at the moment. 

Instead, you suck softly on her thumb and you know it’s the right decision when she hums in approval. It was almost too easy for the two of you to fall into this rhythm, like you were meant for each other. You both knew exactly what the other wanted and you’d do anything to please her while she’d do anything to keep you happy. Her other hand squeezes softly at your hip before it begins playing with the waistband of your jeans. “We’ve had a long day, huh? You did so well at the bake sale, you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

You nod, looking at her pleadingly and whining softly. Your clothes feel too warm and you want her to touch you, and she’s wearing too many clothes, and you want to touch her, but her thumb is in your mouth and you can’t just push her away. So, you opt for looking like a kicked puppy until she understands what you want. 

“What is it, hm?” Natasha pulls her thumb out of your mouth and you chase after it slightly until you realize that maybe she wants you to actually tell her and you open your mouth to speak. Your breath catches in your throat, though, when her other hand trails down and cups your clothed cunt. “Do you want me to touch you, is that it?”

“Tasha, please.” You whimper. You can barely feel anything through your jeans and it’s already driving you crazy. You just hope she’s not the type to tease. 

“Alright, alright, arms up.” Natasha chuckles and waits for you to follow her instruction before slipping your sweater off over your head. Her eyes darken as she takes in your bra clad chest and she greedily gropes at your breasts for a moment. “So pretty,” she mumbles, leaning in to kiss softly at your neck.

You moan softly and you clutch at her sweater. Natasha’s hands on you feel better than you ever could have imagined, and you’ve spent more time than you care to admit imagining this. She’s not too rough, but she’s not too soft either. She touches you with the perfect amount of force and it makes your head spin. 

Her hands trail down your chest and then your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake, before her fingertips dance across the waistband of your jeans. “You looked so cute today in your little fall outfit. Do you know how hard it was for me to keep my hands to myself?” Natasha pulls back, her skilled fingers now moving to unbutton your jeans. “You make things so hard for me, sweetheart. It’s like you’re trying to torture me.”

“I just like to look nice for you, Tasha. Is that wrong?”

“Up.” She taps your thigh, and you stand so that she can tug your jeans down for you to step out of. Normally, you’d be a lot more shy about undressing like this for the first time, but right now you just can’t seem to care. 

Natasha pulls you back down into her lap and then pulls you in for a kiss. Her hands find purchase on your hips and her tongue finds its way into your mouth, easily gaining dominance over you. You moan into her mouth as your fingers tangle in her hair again, trying to pull her impossibly closer. 

And then finally, after what seems like forever, she slips one hand inside your panties. The gasp you let out when her middle finger ghosts over your slit is like music to her ears, and she pulls away from the kiss so she can see your reactions properly. 

“No teasing, Tasha, please.” You whine, your hands dropping to her shoulders. “Shh, I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.” She slowly begins rubbing circles against your clit and you’re all whimpers and whines as she does. 

She takes her time, using her other hand to tug the cups of your bra under your breasts so she can play with your nipples, pinching them and rolling them between her fingers all while keeping the same steady pace in slow circles around your clit. She basks in the noises she’s able to pull from you even with the lightest of touches. She considers taking you to her bedroom so she can fuck you properly, but she think she wants ot save that for another day. This will have to do for now. 

“Inside, please, Tasha.” You whimper pathetically, hands bunched up in her sweater as you try to be good like she wants you to. She takes pity on you when she pushes two fingers into your drooling hole. She curses under her breath, “God, you’re so wet, sweetheart. Is this all for me, huh?”

You nod, desperately wanting her to move her fingers. “All for you, Tasha.” You attempt to bounce up and down on her fingers, but her free hand moves down and holds you still. “Please, I can’t– mph!” You interrupt your own begging when Natasha begins thrusting her fingers in and out, the angle forcing the heel of her palm to press against your clit. You bite down on your bottom lip to stifle your moans, embarrassed about how loud you’re being already. 

“That’s it, baby.” Natasha breathes, taking in the sight in front of her with eager eyes, “You take my fingers so well, sweetheart.” She praises, curling her fingers inside of you. You reward her with a particularly high pitched moan and you just barely notice the pink tint of her cheeks. It seems she's enjoying this just as much as you are. Something about having you like this drives Natasha wild. Being able to hear your moans and see the expression on your face makes her almost lightheaded with desire. 

“Oh God, Natasha.” You moan loudly when she grinds the heel of her palm against your clit and presses against the sensitive spot inside you at the same time. Natasha coos, and it doesn’t take long with her fucking you like that for you to get close to the edge. “Tash– I’m gonna– Please–” You beg, pleading for something you’re not even sure of. 

“Shh, I’ve got you, sweetheart. Be a good girl for Daddy.”

Natasha’s words tip you over the edge with the help of her skilled fingers and she guides you through your orgasm, letting you ride it out before pulling out her fingers and bringing them up to her mouth. 

“Fuck, I don’t know if I’m done with you just yet. I might have to take you to bed instead of taking you to dinner.”

[natashascumslut]

MAD - natasha romanoff & fem reader

SUMMARY: Natasha comes home mad, so you have to take things into your own hands.

WARNINGS: Smut 18+ MDNI! Top Nat, bottom reader, Masturbation (R), fingering (R), Praise kink, use of ‘slut’.

Natasha was mad, god knows why. But while she was mad, you were.. well.. very needy. Unfortunately you had been since this morning, impatiently waiting for the redhead to be home. But when you heard the front door close, followed by a loud huff, you knew you weren’t going to get what you wanted. You had quickly moved from the kitchen to the front door, just for her to ghost past you, straight up the stairs and into the shower, leaving you dumbfounded.

You let out a huff of your own, moving back to your spot in the kitchen. You leaned over the counter, distracting yourself with your phone. It didn’t last long though, the feeling between your legs only intensifying as you imagined the woman upstairs in the shower. It wasn’t until you heard the shower turn off, that you decided to do something about it. You put your phone down and strode up the stairs, stopping when she walked out of the bathroom covered in nothing but a towel with water dribbling down her smooth skin. It took a second for words to leave your throat.

“Hey.” You said quietly, she mirrored your words, before disappearing into the bedroom. You rolled your eyes, pushing the bathroom door open, immediately being engulfed in a thick layer of steam. You closed the door behind you and hurriedly removed your clothes, disregarding them into the hamper and stepping into the shower, letting out a satisfied moan as the warm water hit your tense body.

It wasn’t long until your back was pressed against the wet wall, your hand travelling down your body. A soft whimper left your lips as your fingers started slow circles around your clit. You knew you wouldn’t get where you wanted to be without Natasha, but the least you could do was try. You closed your eyes, and forced yourself to imagine your hand was Natasha’s, which helped.. a little. You picked up the pace, so desperate to hit the high you’ve been pinning for all day.

Your whimpers got louder, and eventually turned into moans as you slipped a finger inside yourself, which rendered you far too distracted to hear the bathroom door open. Natasha had forgotten her phone in there, and evidently wanted it back. She knew you were in the shower, but it wasn’t rare for one of you to be in the room while the other showered. She walked into the steam filled room, but paused as she heard noises she knew far too well.

She smirked, the anger that filled her body somehow being lifted the second she realised what you were doing. She stepped closer to the shower, till she was right next to it, her eyes settling on your fingers moving in and out of your cunt.

“Please.” You whimpered, you weren’t sure who you were begging to other than yourself, but it helped. Your eyes were screwed shut, your fingers thrusting at a steady pace. “Oh, Nat.” You moaned out, Natasha’s eyes flicked back up, scared she’d been caught. But to her surprise, your eyes were still shut. She smirked to herself, she knew you couldn’t get off without her.

“Are you close?” She teased, her voice quiet, but loud enough to startle you. You eyes shot open and your hand immediately left your cunt, you stared at her with pink cheeks. “I was..” You huffed, your voice slightly shaky as you pretended to be annoyed. You weren’t, you were far from close, and you both knew that. She immediately pulled off her shirt, she didn’t care that she’d just got out of the shower ten minutes prior, you were more important. You watched with heavy eyes as she got rid of the clothes she’d just put on, leaving them in a pile on the floor. She stepped under the water with you, her hands immediately finding your waist.

“Don’t let me be one to ruin your fun, then.” She purred, her eyes on yours. You let out a low whimper, you weren’t having fun anyway. She smirked, grabbing your hand that was flat against the wall, you didn’t know what to do with it, and putting it right back where it was a few seconds prior. “I said,” She started sternly, “don’t let me be one to ruin your fun.” You whimpered, forcing yourself to move your hand yet again. You muttered a quiet ‘fuck’ as your fingers found their place inside you again. You were far too needy to care about being embarrassed, besides, you’ve done worse with her…

Your eyes fluttered shut once again, your head falling back against the wall. You quickened your pace when you heard a grunt from the red head, but it wasn’t getting you anywhere. You opened your eyes and looked at her, your mouth agape as soft moans escaped. “Please.” You mumbled, making her smirk. She knew what you wanted, “Can’t get off without me, hm? Have i messed you up so much that your own fingers don’t work anymore?” She teased quietly, pulling one hand off your waist to push your wet hair behind your ear. “I asked you something.” She said, her eyes heavy and demanding, making you squirm. “Yes, fuck, i can’t do it without you, please.” You said quickly, but your hand was still moving.

“Good girl.” Natasha purred, grabbing your wrist to stop you. The lack of movement still managed to make you whimper. Your hands found her shoulders, holding onto them for stability. She let out a low hum as her hand travelled down her body, god she loved how you could make her forget all her problems, all of today’s anger washed away thanks to you. You forced back a whimper when her fingers landed on your clit, tapping it a few times. “Oh, this won’t do.” She said, a fake pout on her lips making your eyebrows furrow as you breathed heavily.

“I want to hear you. Don’t hide your noises, let me know how much of a slut you are for me.” She said lowly, her eyes on yours. You whined, nodding. Her fingers moved in circles around your clit, and you did as you were told, a satisfied moan slipping past your lips. “Please, baby.” You whined, you needed this so bad, you needed her. Natasha watched intently as she slipped two fingers inside of you with ease, loving how well you took her. She watched as her fingers disappeared into you slowly, before reappearing. You on the other hand, had your head back and eyes closed, moaning.

“Fuck.” You whined, forcing your eyes open so you could look at her. Which ripped another moan out of you, just from her expression. Her green eyes had darkened and her irises were blown out, and she was staring at you with so much lust, you thought you might explode right then and there. Her fingers moved faster, and you felt them curl inside you, making you moan louder. Your nails dug into the soft skin of her shoulders, definitely leaving a mark, but neither of you cared about that right now.

Your head fell back against the wet wall, and Natasha used it to her advantage, latching her lips onto your neck. You gasped as you felt her suck at your skin.

“Fuck, Nat.” You whined, your hands moving to her hair. “I’m close..” You moaned out. She pulled away from your neck, much to your displeasure. “Beg for it like the good slut you are.” She muttered in a sultry tone, and you had to force yourself not to cum just from her words. You stared at her, trying your hardest not to close your eyes and just let go.

“Please, Nat. Please let me cum, i need it- i need you. Please, baby, i’ll be good, i’ll be your good girl.” You whined out quickly, impatient. Her smirk widened, clearly satisfied. “Cum for me then, baby. Be a good girl and cum.” So you did, she didn’t have to tell you twice. Your eyes rolled back and a loud moan of her name left your lips as you finally got what you’ve been wanting all day. You knew this wouldn’t be the end of it, but you were not going to complain.

[r3dcherri3s]

Annoying ?

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem! reader

warnings: angst, uhhh arguing and uh that’s it? I think idk

word count: 1.7K

The briefing room buzzed with the usual hum of pre-mission activity. Natasha Romanoff, poised and stoic, stood apart from the chaos, reviewing the details of their latest assignment. Her piercing green eyes scanned the screen, not missing a single detail.

Just then, you walked in, your heart skipping a beat as you spotted Natasha. Despite her cold demeanor, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to her.

You couldn't help but admire Natasha from a distance. The Avenger was everything you weren’t—strong, confident, and breathtakingly beautiful. Every time you were in the same room, your heart would race, and you’d find herself gravitating towards Natasha like a moth to a flame.

But the widow was always cold and dismissive. No matter how many times you tried to strike up a conversation or offer a kind gesture, Natasha’s responses were curt, her demeanor frosty. Yet, you just couldn't stay away. You kept hoping, kept trying, believing that maybe, just maybe, Natasha would warm up to you.

“Hey, Nat,” You said cheerfully, sidling up next to the spy. “Need any help?”

Natasha barely glanced at you. “I’ve got it covered, Y/N. Go make yourself useful somewhere else.”

Your smile faltered, but you refused to give up. “I can be useful right here,” you insisted, your tone light and hopeful.

Natasha’s jaw tightened. “Just stay out of my way,” she said icily, turning her back to you.

Undeterred, you continued to hover, your presence a persistent, gentle reminder of your affection for the redhead. Natasha sighed inwardly, irritated by the distraction. She had a job to do, and your constant attempts at getting close to her were becoming more than a nuisance.

The tension in the room was palpable as Natasha’s icy demeanor clashed with your unwavering cheerfulness. Before things could escalate further Steve entered the room, his presence immediately commanding attention. He glanced between you and Natasha, sensing the tension but choosing not to comment on it.

“Natasha, Y/N,” Steve called, gesturing for the two of you to follow him. “We’ve got a mission. Briefing starts in five.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Natasha, her expression unreadable, before following Steve to the briefing room. Once there, the rest of the team was already assembled, eyes focused on the mission details displayed on the screen.

Steve began outlining the mission, his voice steady and authoritative. “We’ve got intel on a HYDRA base operating out of Eastern Europe. We need to infiltrate, gather information, and neutralize any threats. Natasha, you’ll be leading this one.”

Natasha nodded, her usual confidence evident. “Who’s my partner?” she asked, her tone neutral.

Steve’s gaze shifted to you. “Y/N will be your partner for this mission.”

You saw Natasha’s jaw tighten, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you serious, Steve?” she asked, a note of frustration creeping into her voice. “I can’t do my job if I’m babysitting.”

Ouch.

Your heart sank, but you kept your expression neutral, not wanting to show how much her words stung.

“Natasha, Y/N is a capable agent,” Steve said firmly. “And this mission requires both of your skills.”

Natasha looked like she was about to argue, but she bit her tongue, her eyes flickering to you and then back to Steve. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “But if this goes south, it’s on you.”

Before Steve could respond, Natasha turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, leaving you standing there awkwardly. The rest of the team exchanged uneasy glances, and Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Don’t take it personally, Y/N,” he said softly. “Natasha’s just… complicated. She’ll come around.”

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely convinced. “I’ll do my best, Steve.”

“I know you will,” he replied, giving you an encouraging smile. “Just be patient with her. She’s not used to letting people in.”

With a final nod, you left the briefing room, feeling a mix of determination and fear. You knew earning Natasha’s trust wouldn’t be easy, but you were committed to proving yourself.

As you made your way to the gear room, you found Natasha already there, checking her weapons with exact precision. She didn’t acknowledge your presence, her focus entirely on her task.

You cleared your throat, trying to break the ice. “Nat, I—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted sharply, her eyes flashing with annoyance. “Just get ready for the mission.”

Swallowing your retort, you set about preparing your gear in silence, the tension between you almost tangible. Once you were ready, you glanced at Natasha, who was already waiting by the door, her expression cold.

“Let’s go,” she said curtly, not waiting for you to respond before heading out.

As you followed her to the jet, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever be able to break through the walls she’d built around herself. But despite the challenges, you were determined to try. For both your sake and hers.

Once aboard the jet, you took your seat, the hum of the engines filling the silence between you. Natasha was focused on the mission briefing displayed on her tablet, her face a mask of concentration.

This would be the mission that would change everything.

Inside the dimly lit warehouse, your nerves got the best of you. You stayed close to Natasha, perhaps too close, clinging to her for reassurance. The air was thick with tension, the sound of distant footsteps echoing through the vast space. Your heart raced, your breath shallow as you tried to focus.

At one point, your distraction caused a near-fatal mistake. You stumbled over a loose cable, sending a clattering noise through the warehouse. Natasha’s eyes widened, her reflexes kicking in as she grabbed you and pulled you behind a stack of crates.

“Stay quiet,” Natasha whispered, her voice a mix of urgency and concern. She peeked around the corner, spotting a guard approaching the source of the noise.

Your hands trembled, your grip tightening on Natasha’s arm. You felt a wave of guilt and fear, knowing you had almost jeopardized everything.

Natasha’s gaze hardened for a moment, silently she swiftly moved into action. In a blur, she disarmed the approaching guard, her movements precise and lethal. With a final, quiet thud, the guard was incapacitated, and Natasha dragged him into the shadows.

“We can’t afford any more mistakes,” Natasha murmured, turning back to you. “Stay focused, and follow my lead.”

You nodded, swallowing hard as you forced yourself to calm down. You know you messed up big time, it was only a matter of time before Natasha starts screaming. You couldn’t let your nerves get the best of you again—not when everything depended on both of you succeeding.

——————

When you both finally made it back to the safe house, Natasha snapped.

“For god's sake, Y/N, can you just stop being so damn clingy? You're a liability! Do you even realize how close we came to dying because of you?”

Y/N stood frozen, Natasha's words cutting deeper than any knife. You had never seen Natasha this angry, this harsh. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you forced them back, nodding silently.

“I’m sorry, Natasha. I’ll… I'll leave you alone.”

——————

For the first time, you actually meant it. You resolved to give Natasha the space she clearly wanted.

The days that followed were torturous. You avoided Natasha at every turn, no longer seeking her out, no longer lingering in her presence. Whenever you both crossed paths, your eyes would drop, and quickly make yourself scarce. The once vibrant and dynamic energy you brought to the base faded, leaving a void.

Natasha noticed the change immediately. At first, she relished the silence, the absence of your constant chatter. She had thought that without your questions and observations, she would finally find some peace. But soon, the quiet became unbearable. She found herself missing the way your eyes lit up when you talked about something you loved, the way your laughter echoed through the halls. The base felt colder, emptier without your presence. The missions were devoid of their usual spark, and Natasha’s own resolve began to waver under the weight of your absence.

Natasha’s frustration grew each day, her thoughts consumed by your absence. Her attempts to focus on her work, to drown out the gnawing void, were futile. Every corner of the base held memories of you, memories she could no longer escape. After a week of this torture, she couldn't take it anymore. Storming through the corridors, she finally reached your room and burst inside without knocking, her heart pounding with a mix of anger and desperation.

“Why the hell are you avoiding me?” Natasha demanded, her voice edged with a desperation she could no longer hide.

You looked up from your bed, startled and confused. “What? You told me to leave you alone, Natasha. I’m just… I’m doing what you wanted.”

Natasha’s eyes softened for a moment before the frustration returned. “I didn't mean forever! You’ve been acting like I don’t exist.”

Your anger flared, a rare sight. You stood up, facing Natasha head-on, your voice trembling with the force of emotions. “You said I was a liability, Natasha! You made it clear you don't want me around. So why are you here now, yelling at me for doing exactly what you wanted?”

The room fell silent, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. Natasha’s face crumpled with guilt. “Y/N, I—”

“No, Natasha. You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to treat me like crap and then get mad when I try to give you what you want. Just… just leave me alone.” Your voice cracked with the effort to hold back tears, your pain and frustration spilling over.

You turned away, shoulders trembling with suppressed emotion. Natasha felt a pang of regret so deep it nearly knocked the wind out of her. She had never meant to hurt you like this, never meant to push you away so completely. Her own fears and insecurities had driven a wedge between them, and she now stood on the precipice of losing one of the most important people in her life.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha whispered, her voice breaking. “I didn’t mean it. Any of it.”

But you didn't respond, your silence more telling than any words could be. Natasha left the room, her heart heavy with remorse. She was determined to make it up to you, to show you that you weren’t just an annoyance, but someone who meant more to her than she had ever realized.

part 2 ⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️

[romanoffsbish]

Hear Me Out

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Natasha develops a bit of a crush on Shield’s interpreter, and it just so happens that her best friend, Clint, has an in with the woman for her….

A/N: I actually minored in Deaf Studies in college, and that little end bit with Natasha is based on an actual mistake I made in my class lmao.

Cheese / Movie | Sorry / Please | Bad / Bitch

W/C: 3,788

"Why am I here again?" Clint grumbled as he sidled himself up to Natasha as she stood just off stage. "Because, Steve is off on a mission and there's no way I was doing this alone."

Clint rolled his eyes as he saw his best friends smirk grow while watching the stage, she was taunting him for being so easy to manipulate.

"Next time you call, I'm sending you straight to voicemail." Natasha shrugged, "I'll call Laura."

Clint was about to rebut her threat, but then he was caught off guard by seeing you on stage.

"Why's Y/N here?"

Natasha followed his gaze to your face, and her heart momentarily stopped. Y/N... Now she knew your name, and yet it wasn't enough.

——

It had been months since she first noticed you, she was instantly drawn to your beauty, but due to the nature of your connected jobs she felt it would be unprofessional to approach. With every passing event though she felt as her resolve was steadily crumbling, especially since you flashed her a gorgeous smile in passing at the last one. She damn near swooped you then.

"You know her?"

Clint smiled, "She's my Shield appointed interpreter, she bridges the gap between me and others in my situation while also teaching the family and I ASL." His smile dropped into a frown the more he thought about the situation. "Does she do every Avengers press release?"

"Mostly," Natasha replied with understanding in her tone. "Leave it to Fury to double dip."

"Now I feel bad that she spends every Monday to Wednesday with me." Natasha interrupted, "Oh wow, poor girl." Clint shoulder bumped her then went on, "Then she's at the farm every other weekend." Natasha frowned, in part because she didn't know if you could be trusted, but also, because she was jealous.

"Don't worry, I vetted her myself, she's clean."

Natasha's shoulders lost their tenseness, but she still kept a scowl as she realized she had always had an in with you. But since Clint was primarily retired she'd been left out of the loop with just how often she'd been on missions.

"She's single," he teased, Natasha could never hide her feelings from him. "That's cool," but she would be damned if she wouldn't try.

He sighed, ready to give her a little pep talk, but then the crowd roared with applause and he saw you were carefully descending the stage.

"Y/N!" Natasha glared at him, but fortunately you didn't catch it as you happily trotted over. You smiled, but only waved in greeting.

"I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Nat."

"Natasha," the redhead cooly corrected.

You titled your head, and furrowed your brows. Natasha watched in amusement when Clint knowingly huffed as he watched you. With your pointer finger you tapped your chest, then rose it to flick at the sky while shaking your head.

You understood him just fine...

Clint rolled his eyes, then did his very best to sign his introduction once more. Your eyes lit up at his improvements, and Natasha watched the older mans eyes also beaming with pride. She was certain she needed to know you now, because the old man was as a certified grump, but you still managed to make him smile.

"I'm Y/N," you finally spoke, and the redhead nearly fell to her knees at your voice. You had extended your hand out in greeting, but she was too enamored by you as a whole. So, you awkwardly cleared your throat while going to pull it away but she latched on just in time.

"Natasha," she finally offered her name, even though you knew it from not only Clint's intro, but also because you worked for her boss.

"I know," you giggled, and allowed her to keep holding onto your hand well beyond the shake. "You're kind of who I was defending on stage."

The redhead blushed and Clint was speechless.

"Right," she chuckled, and felt her entire body warm from embarrassment. Then, you gently squeezed her hand and she realized she had yet to let it go. Which only made her feel hotter.

The redhead dropped it, and if she wasn't so mortified by her horrible game she'd have seen the way you momentarily frowned at the loss.

"It's lovely to finally meet you Natasha, Clinton here has told me so much about you." You ratted the old man out for his gossiping. Nat narrowed her eyes at the man, curious on his intentions to have ever mentioned her to you.

"Don't worry, it's nothing too bad," you teased her and she met your eyes to see the honesty. "I'd stick around and get to know you myself, but unfortunately I have to meet with Fury, and sign yet another NDA since agents can't seem to keep their mouths shut around me."

"I'm sure Fury can wait," Natasha blurted, and that shocked all three of you. Clint smirked, Natasha's gaze fell to the ground, and you couldn't stop smiling thinking about how she wanted you to stay. The hand holding, and blush were not enough to convince you that the attraction was mutual, but now, you grew sure.

"He very well could," you theorized playfully, and the redhead looked to you with a smile. "But we all know that it's a bad idea to keep the director waiting. Then he'd be faced with the realization that his busy schedule is a facade."

The best friend duo laughed, both innately aware of the truth in your words. Fury spent his days doing a whole lot of nothing while the rest of them actually did the bulk of it all.

"I'm sure I'll see you around," you spoke again, the hopeful tone not being missed by them. Natasha nodded, about to reply, then her voice stalled in her throat as your finger grazed on over her warm cheek to collect an eyelash.

"Make a wish," you'd commanded playfully, and the redhead didn't question your childish behavior. She simply closed her eyes, wished for you, then blew the curl off your fingertip.

"What did you wish for?" Clint asked, and you watched the woman grow tense. "She can't say Clint, or else it won't come true." Natasha's eyes flitted back to you, and her body calmed. "Exactly, if you knew what's best for you, you would listen to the pretty woman Barton."

You gasped at her words, and nearly lost all of your composure, making Natasha slyly smirk.

"I'll see you this weekend," you'd signed to Clint, then left with a nervous smile and wave.

"Don't even," Natasha threatened through gritted teeth, and Clint laughed wildly. "Oh, Laura is going to be so ecstatic at the news."

Natasha left the man in the dust, literally, she drove off in her Corvette just as he made it and left him without a way back to the compound. Nevertheless, he continued to smile over the interaction as he walked back. He got into his car and left towards home, not even saying goodbye to the dramatic, fuming redhead.

He knew that he would be seeing her soon...

—

"Y/N!" You caught the little girl with ease as she ran down the familiar steps of her home. Lila began to ramble incessantly about her week, knowing the rules of silence affected her just as soon as the door was closed behind you.

You always took your time with entering just for her sake. The rules were important, it was the only real way any of them would adapt to the changes that came with Clint's steadily declining hearing. Immersive practices were truly the best when learning a new language.

"Ooh, and Nate got in so much trouble yesterday, because he flushed my dolls head down the toilet. Dad was so mad! Oh, and..."

Just as you went to open the creaky door you heard the slamming of a metal one behind you. Before you could even turn to inspect who it could be you got your answer as the little girl shimmied out of your arms and shrieked.

"Auntie Nat!"

Your entire body warmed when you turned to see her catch the girl just the same as you did. It was a bit soon to picture it, but you couldn't stop your mind from wandering off to thoughts of her maybe one day catching your own kids.

Neither of you had even confessed your crush's and here you were seeing wedding bells; always doomed to be the hopeless romantic it seems.

Little did you know Natasha felt the same way when she watched you with Lila from her car. For a brief moment she was jealous that the little girl looked so happy with you, that was her precious Lila-Bear after all, but then her heart skipped in realization that you'd already won all of the people that mattered over.

Except for Yelena, but she'd likely save that encounter for years down the line if she could. The last thing she needed was for the blonde to run you off before she ever got a real chance.

Turns out you already knew Wanda too, her other bestie, you'd been there for her after a bombing led her to a hearing scare. When Nat mentioned you last night the witch squealed, and begged her not to fuck this opportunity up.

Natasha had scoffed, acting nonchalantly about the possibility of a future, but her heart racing was a sign to the witch that she wanted it bad.

Once the redhead was stood before you it was like your mind was catching up to the moment. Natasha's hand fell to your shoulder, and offered you a bright smile. "We meet again."

"It's almost as if you planned this," you teased and she glared defensively. "It was my weekend off, it is only a coincidence that you're here."

"Oh," you chuckled awkwardly, completely thrown by the sudden change in demeanor. "Well, I'll make sure I stay out of your way."

Natasha internally slapped herself, she had no reason to be upset, but she was embarrassed by your ability to understand why she was here.

"You're bad at this Auntie Nat," Lila noted, then dropped down to follow you back inside.

"Y/N, wait." Natasha tried, but she was met instead with Nate glaring up at her with his tiny finger to his lips. He was shushing her.

Next to greet her was Laura, who pulled her in for a hug and whispered, "Welcome to the dome of silence, you can undo your blunder later—start by not being so defensive."

Natasha rubbed her eyes, and cursed under her breath in her mother tongue, only to be shushed once again by a smirking Clint.

Before she could retaliate (pummel the man) you'd flipped the power off, then on a few times to signal to the Barton's that it was time for congregating in silence. Natasha followed, and took a seat in the far off corner to observe the ways in which you taught the lot of them ASL.

It was amusing from the very start, she could see just why the wary kids loved you so much. The language was something you held respect for in your soul, but you also knew kids needed fun to focus. So, you almost found a way to make it a game of charades when the topics allowed you to. Clint and Laura worked out of a workbook for the most part, it was more like you were a tutor that sidelined as a babysitter.

Natasha watched your face, and how you were emoting so clearly. Every sign came with an expression, something you wouldn't see much of in spoken languages as inflection worked wonders to let others know your moods. In this instance she realized it was you setting a tone.

Today you were teaching them a handful of new words, and using clear feelings to do so.

You'd started with— "I feel," and signed cold, which you dramatized as you wrapped a scarf around your neck before lifting your bent arms in front of you, and shivered. Even Natasha had figured the word out, but that wasn't the answer, because as you saw the kids sign "I understand," you went on to sign "Why?"

Lila giddily raised her hand, body squirming in her seat as she quickly finger-spelled S-N-O-W.

You smiled wide, and signed good before you took your hands and imitated snow fall, your fingers fluttered as you swayed your hands down, then you pointed to your pointer finger, and the kids knew you wanted another word.

Cooper finger-spelled R-A-I-N, and you pursed your lips. Your hand took the shape of a Y, then moved from side to side, then your brow raised as your pointer fingers gently touched before separating fast. A quick way to say they were similar signs, but different in the same breath. Then you signed it and urged them for more.

Natasha already knew the alphabet, and with her spy training she missed nothing so she actually followed along rather easily with you. The widow quite enjoyed learning along with the kids, the words were relatively meaningless to her, but every word was necessary to life.

What really caught her attention was the little boy who'd shushed her earlier using his voice.

Nate was too young to engage in your playful immersive ways like the other two as he hadn't known how to spell yet. So you'd offer him photos after his siblings would spell out their guesses, and he would always get to shout the correct answer to you. To which you'd nod, wink at the older kids, then remind him to keep his lips zipped after as he hung off your back.

Nate snickered when your eyes bulged as you pulled the invisible zipper across your face. His imagination allowed him to believe that your lips were to some extent being zipped shut.

When you moved on to let the kids get ready for bed, you'd focused in on the parental unit.

Natasha gratefully caught your attention just before you settled into a conversation. Your face was rather solemn, and she cringed at the lack of your usual smile—she'd already grown obsessed with the simple gesture of yours.

She offered you a simple smile, and signed I'm sorry, or at least she thought she did, but really she said please and you took it as an apology. You'd merely winked and threw a thumbs up, your version of a rushed "it's okay," before you shifted to face an impatient (eager) Laura.

You were never actually offended by her earlier outburst, you actually found it quite funny.

Laura signed the lesson with you as if she had already known the material before you ever arrived. Part of you thinks she had the book and read ahead to show off, but the other part of you knew just by a glance she was brilliant.

Once you felt satisfied you nodded at her, and she traipsed off upstairs to help the kids finish up their bedtime routines. Then came your time with the struggling Archer, whom of which was the reason for these sorts of visits.

This is when Natasha's attention fell to her phone, you were no longer being silly, and truth be told she felt she needed to do some studying of her own to win your heart over.

Clint held up to your challenges, he signed with a sort of choppy elegance that matched him. Sometimes his signs would be angled wrong, and you would freeze the moment to remind him that sometimes a mistake like that could get him a black eye. For instance, bitch and bad were not too similar, but if you blinked it could be misconstrued, and somehow Clint found a way to confuse them often enough for you to need warn him. Not that he, an actual Avenger, had too much to worry much about.

Any Deaf person would be able to understand his flukes, but you feared he'd still get a stern scolding from the wrong person in a crowd.

Something you knew he'd take with a scowl.

After a half hour with the grumpy man you'd told him he was free to go. He literally jumped up, and lifted you into a grateful embrace as he spoke in a huff, "Fucking finally, I am tired."

"Language!" Laura and Natasha parroted Steve's infamous, inside joke, it spread around Shield so much that even you understood it.

The freshly cleaned up kids all ran into your body in some capacity, Lila smashed her chin into your stomach and pouted up at you. "Don't go?" You ruffled the little girls damp hair and smiled sadly at her. "I'll be back Lila, you guys won't even have a chance to miss me."

"I miss you all the time," Nate corrected you. Cooper jumped in next, pouting just the same, "You're like the coolest adult we know Y/N!"

Natasha scoffed, "I thought that was me!"

Cooper shrugged, and the other kids giggled. "You're our favorite Auntie, deal with it."

"Yeah Natasha, deal with it," you teased her with that pretty grin of yours just before you turned around to give each kid a final hug.

Natasha watched with an adoring smile, her eyes swirling with joy, and a twinge of hope. Clint caught her, and sent a teasing wink her way, but even that didn't stop her from gazing.

"Alright, it was lovely to see you again Y/N, please don't be a stranger," she winked at Natasha while hugging you tightly. "Get home safely please darling, obey the traffic laws."

Clint laughed, "Way to be a mom honey." He gulped as she glared, then patted you on the shoulder quickly before racing off after her to apologize, and help her settle the kids down.

The room was abruptly quiet again, and even with the palpable tension, it wasn't that bad. You moved around the room collecting your materials while Nat quietly observed you, she was building up her courage to approach you before you could leave the house completely.

Natasha politely tapped you on the arm, and you turned your head to peer over your shoulder to see her nervous smile. She swirled her hand about, you got the message and turned to face her fully, you nodded to confirm your full attention was hers so she lifted her hands to attempt to ask you out on a date.

Natasha shakily pointed at you, then back to herself to essentially say "You and me". She had no idea how to really do this, so she kept her Google search for signs at a minimum. The next thing she did was point her fingers out in the distance, something you understood easily.

The tricky part came when she put her hands together, the redhead tried her hardest to ask you to go to the movies with her, but she missed the mark by a simple position of hands. 

"Sure, brie or cheddar?" Natasha blinked in confusion, her hands fell in defeat, and she looked completely disheartened. "What?"

"You just asked me to go to cheese with you."

"Oh my god," she groaned, her reddening face covered by her hands in an instant, but you didn't let her steep in her shame. Much like the first meeting you had her hands in yours, and you squeezed them in hopes of comforting her. Judging by the way her eyes glimmered you knew she was grateful for the gesture.

“Of course I’ll go to the movies with you.”

“You understood but still did that?”

You chuckled, “It was too easy not to.” The redhead dropped your hand then softly nudged your shoulder, “You are really such a tease.”

“Just wait for the date,” you winked, and the woman felt her body warm at the implications.

"Let me know when, and I'll meet you there?" Natasha frowned as she shook her head with absolute urgency. "No, I want to pick you up if that's alright, we can get dinner together first."

"Then pick me up next Friday at seven Nat," you leaned in and placed a sweet kiss to her raised cheek and tried to hide your grin at the blooming warmth felt just beneath your lips. Then you got into your car, and she hung into the window instantly to keep you a little longer.

"I'll need your number krasivaya," her tone was even raspier when she spoke in her mother tongue and she could see by the widening of your eyes that she had an upper-hand here. "It'll be hard to get in touch without it detka."

With a steady as can be hand you slid your phone into hers, allowing her to send herself a text message. As you took your phone back you saw she'd sent herself a selfie, you narrowed your eyes, and she shrugged. "I need a contact photo, and didn't really want to wait."

"So you invaded my privacy instead?" You teased the woman, no bite at all behind your words, so she once again shrugged. "You're very beautiful Y/N, you can't blame me right? It's honestly a shame I hadn't met you earlier."

"You know, you had ample opportunity," you giggled, and softly pushed her out of the car. "But you needed your best friends help."

"Hey...."

"Goodnight Natasha, I expect a gorgeous selfie in return, you know, for your contact." You winked knowingly before revving your engine and taking your leave only seconds later.

"That woman is going to actually kill me." The redhead held her hand over her racing heart as you drove away, it wasn't until your car was the size of an ant that it had begun to settle down.

"Jeez Nat, you're whipped!" Natasha turned to Clint with a tilted head, a move of Wanda's, while wearing her signature sideways smirk. Her narrowed eyes alone spoke of danger, but then her fingers formed the shape of L's, and she linked them and pulled them like a trigger.

Her research expanded beyond your wooing to include the torment of her dearest old friend.

Clint knew better than to ignore her threats, and took off in an instant... Natasha's laughter echoed in the dark fields, and mocked the man.

"I can't wait to have someone to complain about those two with," Laura chuckled to herself as she settled onto the porch swing with a glass of wine at the ready to help her unwind.

"Godspeed to Y/N though, that poor girl hasn’t a single clue what she is in for."

——

[wwandaslover]

I DONT SMOKE | N.R

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F! Reader

Warnings: lots of angst, smoking, abuse, toxic relationship, legal age gap, R has an unhealthy attachment to N, N has anger issues, love bombing, cheating

Summary: Natasha is a horrible girlfriend, R can’t let her go, they’re in a super toxic relationship.

You never smoked, it was disgusting and you always hated the smell. You had hated it your entire life, until Natasha came along. Natasha smoked a cigarette or two a day, but she bought her own tobacco and tubes for it, she wasn’t going to smoke those disgusting Marlboros or Camels, she’d always smoke her own cigarettes. You would pester her to stop smoking, worried for her health, and Natasha would always chuckle and tell you it was alright.

You fell in love with the smell and taste of cigarettes, the scent of tobacco on Natasha’s leather jacket, the taste of it on Natasha’s tongue when she’d kiss you. The way it mixed with her dark cherry scented perfume was intoxicating, and you fell harder and harder for her every single day. You fell harder every time she hugged you, or kissed you, or laid you down and spread your legs greedily.. the way she could worship your body one moment and choke you the next made you throb with need, you needed Natasha like oxygen. You hated when she was gone, you hated wondering where she was. You hated being alone.

When Natasha was gone, you’d smoke, just to taste her on your tongue and smell her on your clothes. You didn’t care how the cigarette would turn into two, then into three, even into four if Natasha was gone too long. You couldn’t help it, you had gotten addicted to the tobacco burning and the smoke filling your lungs like it had filled Natasha’s. You felt pathetic, you couldn’t go a day without her anymore, you were losing your mind whenever she was gone longer than a day. You wanted to scream every time she was out with Wanda, Carol, or Maria, you had nothing against any of them.. but Natasha was choosing them over you. You wanted to tear them apart with your shaky hands.

When Natasha would come home to you acting needy and following her like a lovesick puppy, she’d get mad. She’d break things, but never you. She’d punch a door or a wall if she was really mad, she would break random trinkets in your shared bedroom and you would sob, begging her to stop ignoring you even if that meant her hurting you. You needed her attention, whether it was her arms wrapped around your trembling frame, or her palm connecting with your cheek. You loved her so dearly, you needed her every moment of the day and all you wanted was for her to feel the same, you wanted her to need you so pathetically.

Natasha arrived home late once again to find you sitting out on the back deck, smoking a cigarette with a pensive expression on your face. Natasha frowned at the sight and opened the glass door to the deck, taking the cigarette from between your fingers and putting it out in the ashtray.

“Detka..” she spoke barely above a whisper, staring at you with concern, worried for your wellbeing. She cupped your cheek gently and a sound of hurt escaped your throat. Natasha’s eyes softened even more and she pulled you into a hug. She hated seeing you in pain, she hated knowing she was the problem. You were such a sweet person, you had a heart of gold and you were so sensitive.

You sobbed against her shoulder, “Why don’t you love me, Nat..?”

Natasha immediately spoke, “I do love you, I love you so much, dorogaya.. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. I know I’ve been gone a lot lately. I’m sorry work has been so crazy. I promise I’ll try and spend more time at home with you.”

You sniffled a little and lifted your head from her shoulder, looking her in the eyes. You whispered tepidly, “Are you sure..?”

Natasha nodded, smiling softly. She cupped your cheek, her cold and rough hand against your soft and warm skin. She pressed her lips to yours in a reassuring kiss, making sure to be gentle and slow. You knew you shouldn’t fall for it, Natasha would go back to normal in a few days and you’d get hurt all over again.. but you couldn’t help it. You kissed her back slowly, wrapping your arms around her neck and sighing softly against her lips. Natasha’s hands moved to your hips, holding you possessively and securely as she kissed you. She knew what she was doing, she knew she was hurting you, it wasn’t ever intentional but she couldn’t help it. She knew you’d find out about her cheating on you with Wanda, she knew you were aware of her manipulation and abuse, she knew you would never leave because you were just a needy little girl, barely even an adult. She was in her mid thirties and you were a senior in college. You were weak and Natasha couldn’t help but keep abusing your weakness.

You deepened the kiss, swiping your tongue over Natasha’s lower lip, asking for entrance that Natasha granted. Natasha’s tongue explored your mouth and immediately dominated the kiss, you let her, your soft moans were swallowed by her lips. Without breaking the kiss, Natasha led you inside, both of you kicked your shoes off and dropped your jackets on the floor uncaringly. You both stumbled upstairs to your bedroom and once you got to it, Natasha pushed you against the wall and broke the kiss to take off your shirt and her own. You saw the hickey on her collarbone, you knew it wasn’t from you, but you wouldn’t say anything. Maybe it was just a bruise. She’d never cheat on you, she loved you.

Natasha grabbed your hips once again and pushed you onto the bed before she moved to straddle you. You instinctively grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, your eyes glued to the mark on her skin but you forced yourself to look away at Natasha’s face, kissing her once again. Natasha kissed back, unaware of the mark on her collarbone, unaware of the growing ache in your chest.

Natasha cupped your cheeks as she grinded against you, letting out soft groans and noises of pleasure into your mouth as you kissed her. Natasha slid her hands to your back and unclasped your bra, throwing it aside. Her hands immediately went to your breasts and began kneading your soft skin, her lips parting from yours and moving to kiss and suck on your chest while you let out fake moans to cover up the hurt building up inside you. You knew she cheated, but you didn’t want to accept it, you had known since the moment she began coming home smelling like another woman’s perfume, you knew when you saw nudes from Wanda in her camera roll that she didn’t bother to hide, you knew when Natasha started hanging out with Wanda every single day.. it was obvious.

While you were lost in thought, Natasha had stripped off your sweatpants and panties, burying her face in your cunt and exploring your core while her nose nudged your clit. You sobbed as Natasha ate you out, she thought you were just worked up and feeling relieved, not actually crying. You didn’t stop her, you didn’t want her to stop yet you also wanted to hit her and scream at her for ruining you. You hated how much you loved her, you used to think she was absolutely perfect, that someday you would marry her, but in that moment, her laying between your legs as she ate you out, your tears rolling down your face and soaking into your hair and bedsheets, you knew you needed to leave her. You knew you had to but you didn’t want to, you wanted to stay with her no matter how abusive and manipulative she was.

You faked an orgasm once, and then again when she decided to start fingering you and kissing your neck, then again when she decided to use a strap-on. At least when she was between your legs you couldn’t see the mark, you couldn’t see her fucking face, but now you did. You hated Natasha for the first time in your life, you hated everything about her and yet all you wanted was for her to love you and only you. You needed her more than anything, no matter how horrible she was.

Eventually, after everything stopped, Natasha laid next to you. She stared into your eyes with an unreadable expression, her hand gently resting on your waist. Her voice rang in your ears, deafeningly soft and warm, “Are you okay?”

Without thinking, you let out a scoff. You turned to lay on your back and ran your hands over your face, stressed and upset. You spoke after a moment, still not facing Natasha “How long have you been fucking Wanda?”

Natasha’s heart ached for you, she wasn’t surprised that you knew, in fact she thought you would have approached her about it already, but she hated how hurt you sounded. She hated your sad expression, she hated your shaky breaths, she hated how terrible she felt for hurting you. She got out of bed and spoke, “seven months.”

You watched as she grabbed her clothes and left the room. She just left. You knew it was over, and part of you was relieved, but seeing Natasha so uncaring reminded you of who she was and who she’d always be. You laid your head back down and sighed heavily before deciding you wouldn’t care either, so you just went to sleep. You knew Wanda didn’t know about you, so you decided that in the morning, you were going to go see her.

So a decent amount of people have asked for part two and I kinda love messy fics, so if you want, go to my requests and ask to be put on the tag list, or ask in the comments. <3

Part two: “My kink is karma” will be out sometime soon

[romanovthinkver]

imagine humping natasha’s big cock. she’s leaned on the propped pillows on your bed with a smirk and watches you pathetically rock your hips on her clothed bulge. black boxers coated on your mixed juices, her fat big tip pocking, begging and seeking sone friction. you wine a lot wanting your daddy to grip at your hips to go faster, but natasha would only tsk.

you woke me up wanting my cock, little one, it’s all yours but daddy will not help you. use your strength on rocking your hips instead on whining.

fuck baby girl, look what you’re making at daddy’s cock. do you see baby, mh? a perfect cock slut that’s what you are.

what is it baby? can’t cum without daddy’s help mh? so pathetic. daddy always has to do all of the work because my dumb little baby can’t hump this big cock.

natasha, in the end, growl getting rid of her drenched boxers and proceeds to fuck you roughly; slapping your ass till it colours red and your pussy stuffed with her cum.

inbox is open to requests

[fandoms--fluff]

Little Natasha X Mama reader

On holiday with all the Avengers, Natty enjoys some Mama/ baby time on the beach.

(The other Avengers are amazing uncles and Aunts).

Diapers/ stuffies/ pacifiers/ story time / breastfeeding

Please and Thankyou 😊

Beach Day

Mama reader x Little Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: breastfeeding?

A/n: We're not gonna talk about how long this has been in my drafts. but i hope you like it <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Here ya go" Wanda hands you the bottle of sunscreen. "Thanks, Wands" You take the bottle and pack it into your tote bag.

"Where's Nat?" She asks, not seeing the regressed woman anywhere. "On the porch, she's been excited to go to the beach all day" You grin, thinking of your baby girl.

The team had decided to leave New York for a week and spend some time away from all the hustle and bustle of people. You guys had traveled up to Tony's massive house next to a beach. You're in serious need of knowing how many buildings and houses he actually owns, but you'll be able to pester him about that later.

Wanda follows you out to the porch under the blazing sun, her arms becoming full of Nat the moment she steps out the door. "Hey, sweetie" Wanda squeezes her before pulling back a bit.

"Hi! Mama's taking me to the beach!" Nat exclaims, jittering with excitement.

"Well that sounds really fun, you make sure you're good for her" Wanda rubs her back. "Okay, promise, Auntie Wanda" Nat nods before running over to where you're standing next to the 'trail' to the beach.

"Ready to go, baby girl?" You ask. "Mhm," she grasps your outstretched hand in hers.

"Alright. See you later, Wanda" You wave to her with your free hand. "Yeah, see ya" Wanda smiles, waving back before turning to go back inside the air-conditioned house.

You lead nat down the path to the beach, excitement buzzing out of her. As soon as you guys hit the hot sand beach, Nat let's go of your hand and runs down to the water.

Before you could yell out to her to stop, she gets intercepted by Steve. He lifts her up before she splashes into the cool water, "What do you think your doing running away from your Mama like that" he chuckles, walked back over to where you sat everything down.

"Wanna play in water, Uncle Steve" she pouts up to him, her eyes going wide. You sniffles your laughter at the face Steve makes, contemplating what he should do.

Finally he settles on, "I'm sure you do, but remember you need to listen to your Mama's instructions first" He places her down on the blanket you just laid out. "Hmm, okay" she nods her head, listening to Steve's words and turns her attention to you.

Nat runs over to you from the water, shivering. She's been in the water for the past hour, she had fun splashing around and playing with seaweed.

She runs into your open arms with a towel open. "Cold, mama!" She squeals as you wrap her up in the warm towel. Her pink swimsuit and swim diaper, wet from the ocean.

"Hey baby girl" you kiss the top of her head while you get situated on the big towel laid on the ground. "Let's get you all warmed up, hm?"

Nat's all bundled up in her towel and laid on your lap, soaking in all your body heat and the rays from the sun. "You're such a good girl" You lean down and kiss her forehead.

Nat nods in agreement, a smile curving at her lips. She brings up one of her hands and tugs down on your bikini top. "Mama" She looks up at you, her fingers curled around the damp fabric.

"You want milkies?" You ask, running your fingers through her hair. She nods her head, "Yes p'ease."

"Good manners." You hook your fingers in your bikini top and pull one of the sides down, letting your right breast loose of the fabric.

Nat leans in and latches onto your perked nipple. She wraps her lips around it and starts to suck. Slowly, a stream of milk starts flowing into her mouth.

As Nat drinks your milk, you rub one of your hands up and down her diapered butt, soothingly. You reach one of your hands into the bag you brought and pull out her gray stuffed bear.

"You want Paws?" You softly ask her. Nat opens her eyes and looks up at you, nodding. You place the fluffy bear in her open hands and watch as she snuggles with it while still suckling.

When you guys get back to the beach house, you settle a sleepy Nat on the couch next to Tony. "Hey, Nat" Tony looks up from the book he was reading and smiles to her.

"Hi unca Tony" Nat mumbles sleepily. "Hey, sweetheart" Tony smiles to the redhead. She still has Paws in her arms and cuddles with him, eyes half closed.

Tony closes the book and places it on the wooden coffee table. "Did you have fun with Mama on the beach?" He asks the little.

"Mhm, wen' swimmin and lay with mama in da sun" She tells the older man, her voice filled with sleep.

You sit next to Nat, her being between you and Tony. "You want a story, Baby Girl? Cause I think Uncle Tony has some good ones" You kiss the top of her head.

Nat nods her head and snuggles her head into Tony's shoulder, looking up at him expectantly. "Alright, Sweetheart. Let's see, hmmm." He places his finger on his chin, tapping it comically.

"Ahah. Once upon a time, there was a princess, she grew up in the jungle. She was friends with all the animals and..." Tony started telling a story.

Nat Slowly starts to doze off while listening to Tony's story. You watch and listen with a smile on your face. Tony sure melts and gets all soft when he's in the vicinity of Nat.

[th3-c0rps3-r0gu3]

Natasha: the problem is people

Y/n: which people?

Natasha: everyone that isn't you.

[teaaagan]

Natasha

Y/N: *laying on a pool chair unconscious*

Carol, panicking: They're not breathing!

Wanda: I'll give them mouth to mouth!

Y/N: *opens one eye* Ew no! Let Natasha do it! *closes eye*

Peter:

Steve:

Wanda:

Bruce:

Carol:

Tony:...

Natasha: GET OUT OF THE WAY, MOTHERFUCKERS!