#black widow x reader smut
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sapphosclosefriend · 3 months ago
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~ Nerd! Nat Headcanons pt 3 ~
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This is 18+ content. Minors DNI!
Part 1 | Part 2
@esposadejoyhuerta here you go girl
SFW
Nerd!Nat who is incredibly excited when you go on a small vacation for your first anniversary. You surprise her with a small (a little run down) van you rented and spend a couple of days driving around beautiful places together. It's not much but it's what she's always talked about wanting to do.
Nerd! Nat who acts like she's taking pictures of the beautiful view but secretly always includes you in them. She ends up gathering all the photos she's taken of you and of the two of you together to make a little album of the memories of your first anniversary and gifts it to you.
Nerd! Nat who hugs you while lying between your legs on a blanket in a small field and falls asleep as soon as you start running your fingers through her hair. You can't help but lovingly look at her peacefully sleeping and chuckle when she wakes up, notices your eyes on her and buries her face on your front embarrassed.
Nerd! Nat who blushes like a tomato each and every time she catches you staring at her with an enamored look in your eyes, no matter how long you've been together, she'll just never get used to it.
Nerd! Nat who studies at the small desk next to her bed, turns her head and once again finds you looking at her like she's the most beautiful piece of art while lying on your stomach on her bed.
Nerd! Nat who suddenly gets bold enough to get up and walk over to the bed to stroke your cheek before holding you in place with a finger under your chin to kiss you tenderly, making you fully melt for her.
Nerd! Nat who (surprising herself) starts to get used if not happy to show pda with you and not only loves it when you initiate it, but starts doing it herself as well.
Nerd! Nat who now loves it even more when you're out with your friends and you wrap your arm around her waist or you hug her from the side.
Nerd! Nat who is anything but sporty (she's just a tall, thin little one) but still insists on accompanying you on your walks, feeling uneasy knowing you're out on your own. At the end it's a mutual benefit since you get to see her in grey sweatpants and she gets to savor you in leggings and sometimes a tank top or even a sports bra (poor Natty always ends up so flustered).
NSFW
Nerd! Nat who cums so hard when you jerk her off under the blanket while you're supposed to be watching TV together.
Nerd! Nat who immediately starts to get hard once again while you keep pumping your hand to get every last bit of cum out of her. The way you murmur in her ear, praising her for how good she was for you does nothing but worsen the problem.
Nerd! Nat who secretly loves it when you masturbate each other so she insists on “repaying you” and casually fingers you so insanely good, to the point where you shock yourself a little with the sounds she gets out of you and the way she leaves you shaking and limp after 2 orgasms.
Nerd! Nat who looks at you with big doe eyes and asks you if she did well, making you chuckle breathlessly. You realize she's so insecure she needs you to physically reassure her that she couldn't be any better before grabbing her hand to suck her fingers clean just to mess with her.
Nerd! Nat who's always loved to fuck you doggystyle but hates that she can't see your pretty face, so you start doing it facing the mirror in the room and surprise yourselves with how hot you find it to look at each other's reflection.
Nerd! Nat who, while you're on all fours, makes you feel so good you physically can't hold yourself up anymore, so you let your front fall basically face down on the bed.
Nerd! Nat who doesn't even think about it when she grips your hair to lift your head and only wants to be able to see your face again, making you moan so loud and tighten even more around her at her unexpected action.
Nerd! Nat who desperately begs you with a pout to cum for her. She always wants to wait for you to cum first because in her words “she wants to make sure you feel all the pleasure you deserve”, and seeing you orgasm makes her cum even harder inside of you.
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Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @fawnedolly
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cjjohansson · 3 months ago
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- sweat you out of my system -
natasha romanoff x reader - 18+ - smut - 1.2k
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It had been going on for a while now, 2 years to be exact. The constant back-and-forth flirting, but it had never gone beyond that.
At first, sure it was playful flirting, nothing of meaning to it, but that soon changed. It had started in training, her pinning you to the mat and staring at you with her breathing extremely heavy, you could barely process how she felt pressed against you before she was already out of the room.
It got worse from there, parties consisting of you both lingering next to one another, slight gentle touches. Natasha dragging you to the dance floor, grinding up against you, whispering things into your ears. But again, you both never crossed that line. You don't know why you never did. You both just didn't. And it stayed like that, the constant cycle of back and forth. 
But you were done with not crossing that line, done with your dreams consisting of her. Done with her taking up with your mind 24/7, it was driving you absolutely crazy. So tonight that was all to change. 
You kept her in mind as you looked over the dresses you had picked out which now laid on your bed. Your mind kept falling on the short red dress. You knew it would catch her eye, more than you already do anyway. 
You took your time getting ready, not needing to be early to the party, you knew she would be there dot on the time it started, she always was. You knew showing up later would give you the perfect opportunity of an entrance. And it did. 
You walked through the doors 3 hours late, everyone's eyes instantly zoning on you but all you could pay attention to was those green eyes that kept following you as you walked down the steps and towards the bar where she was sitting. 
Natasha stood up as soon as you were close enough to her, her tight suit, hugging her body perfectly, it was hard to not look at the bulge prominent in her trousers.
She waited until you stood across from her, her hand coming up and brushing some hair behind your ear, leaning close and whispering, “fuck…you look…wow” 
Your hand moves to her iconic arrow necklace, hooking your finger around it to pull her back into you, muttering “I think you’d look better if your clothes were on my bedroom floor…�� As you leaned back you refused to look at her, turning towards the bar and ordering a vodka tonic, but you couldn't ignore the way she moved to stand behind you, pushing you against the bar. Her erection pressing into you, making you push back against her even harder, a smirk on your face when you faintly hear her breathing stutter. 
You grab your drink, taking a sip before turning around to finally face her, she pushes closer again. Natasha's eyes linger on your lips, her eyes hazy as she somehow maneuvers herself even closer. 
You place your drink on the side of the bar, bringing your hands to rest on her chest, slowly inching closer to her neck. You pull her in, your mouth against her ear. “Meet me in the meeting room in 10 minutes…” You breathe out, moving to kiss her neck, as she moves away from you, you let your hand drag down her chest until you reach her trousers, brushing your hand against her bulge, smirking at her, and walking away. 
It wasn’t long until Natasha stepped into the meeting room, your back already pressed against the wall. Her eyes were crazy, her breathing slow but turning heavy all over again. She marched over to you after taking you in, her hands meeting your hips and pushing you violently against the wall as you tried to move toward her. 
She acted quickly, her lips meeting yours in a hurry, lust running through the kiss as she moaned into your mouth. Her hands kneading your ass, to pull your center into hers. Your own hands find her hair, pulling on the red tresses to get her to pull away from you. 
The heat in your stomach was intense, the most intense it had ever felt, she stayed still, waiting for your next move. 
“I’m not wearing any panties…” you whisper against her lips, she rewards you with a groan of her own, smashing her lips to yours again and then dropping to her knees in front of you. 
Natasha pushes your dress up around your hips, the sexual tension in the air was overwhelming. You could feel how dripping wet you were, the build-up to this had been long coming. 
She gave herself a moment, pressing small kisses and bites to your thighs before looking up at you, silently asking for confirmation of what she wanted, no, needed. 
You lifted your leg and placed it on her shoulder, one of her hands moving to hold your ass. Your hand moves to the back of her head and pushes her into you. 
Natasha’s first lick on your clit, lights a fire throughout your whole body. You couldn’t stop the moan falling from your mouth, looking down at her and pushing her more into you. And when you looked down, her eyes were already looking up at you, stray hairs falling down her face, falling from your hand on her head. She looked unreal like this, on her knees and eating you out like it was the last thing she would ever do. 
“Fuckkk Tashaaa…” Your moans fill the room, your back arching off the wall as her other hand drags up your thigh and presses into you.
The fire remains alight, while her tongue continues to build the sensation on your clit, while her fingers drag in and out of you, you were so close, so, so close. Each lick, each stroke, drove you wild, tears lining your eyes at how intense her movements felt and that fire quickly turned into an explosion. 
“FUCK, shit, I’m cumming!” You shouted into the room, hoping the music from the party drowned out your sobs of pleasure. 
Natasha slowed her movements, taking her time to move away from you and then resting her head on your thigh, pressing a kiss to your clit before pulling her fingers from you. 
Natasha raised from her knees, coming eye to eye with you but your own eyes couldn’t help but fall to her mouth. Your cum covered her lips, dripping down her chin. Her breathing was still heavy as she stayed staring at you. 
A smirk fills your face, your hand moving to wipe your cum off her lips with your thumb before forcing it into her mouth, her reaction is instant. Her lips mold around your thumb as she sucks gently, but that’s all you allow, pulling your thumb away and then patting her on the cheek. 
“Good girl” you whisper to her, pushing her away by her shoulders, pulling your dress back down, and walking towards the door. 
You can feel the heat of her stare on your back as you finally reach the door. Her breathing hasn’t stopped being heavy since she walked into this room. She stays still as she takes you in. And without turning around you mutter, “Meet me in my room after the party.”
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nats-firefly · 2 years ago
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secret hobbies
natasha romanoff x reader
summary: Your strong muscular girlfriend shows you one of her lesser known hobbies.
warnings: daddy kink, beefy!nat, choking very briefly, strap on use (r receiving), teasing, fingering (r receiving), smut 18+ only
a/n: once again a repost from my old blog (twilight-99-tm), if you have any other ones you's like me to repost, let me know <3
🚩 warnings are clearly stated please do not report/flag :) 🚩
words: 2.5k | feedback is always welcome | masterlist
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Natasha’s face snuggled deeper into the crook of your neck while the two of you laid on the couch. Nat was trying to take a nap, arms wrapped around your body with her slow, even breaths tickling your neck while you scrolled through your phone, soft tiktok audios filling the space of her bedroom. 
One of your hands stroked Natasha’s hair while the other tapped your screen, the contents on the device pulling the other woman’s attention. That’s where you stayed for a while, Natasha’s eyes fluttering closed every now and then, your shared laughter occasionally filling the room.
The next tiktok that played was of someone making pottery, spinning the clay as if it was nothing. Your eyes sparkled, letting the video loop over and over again. Natasha smirked, looking up at you to find your enamored expression.
“I’ve always wanted to do that,” You said, pausing the tiktok and looking down at the redhead smirking up at you. “Have you ever made pottery?”
“Hmm,” She hummed, before leaving a chaste kiss to your neck and sitting up, strong thighs on either side of your hips as she took your hands into hers. “Come with me.”
She stood up, tugging your hand when you refused to get up. “But baby, we were so comfy.”
“C’mon,” She said, easily pulling you up onto your feet, arms flexing with her movement. “You’re gonna like this.”
You leaned your chin up, ever so slightly puckering your lips in protest. She chuckled and leaned down, pressing her lips against yours. You kissed her back, smiling against her lips as you wrapped your hands around her neck. Her arms made their way around your waist and down to your thighs, and before you knew it, you were being carried down the hallway.
“Where are we going?” You asked, not recognizing this part of the compound.
“You’ll see,” She said, smiling lazily as she walked down a flight of stairs. She put you down in front of two wooden doors, before scanning her thumbprint to unlock them. 
Your jaw dropped when you walked inside, floor to ceiling shelves filled with pottery or bags of clay. There was a large window on one side of the room, and right in front of it a pottery wheel with a stool. You walked further inside, Natasha following behind you holding your hand. 
“Is this,” You took in your space one more time, turning around to face your girlfriend. “Your art studio?”
Natasha almost blushed. She’d never brought anyone else here. The only person that knew about this was Tony and even he was sworn to secrecy. She nodded, pulling you closer to her and hiding her face in the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around her as you cooed, burying your hands in her hair. 
“Big, bad, Natasha Romanoff, likes making pottery,” You said, swaying the two of you as you took in more of the space. Every corner screamed Natasha, from the forgotten coffee cups on the counter, to the pictures of you on the desk off to the side, and the small radio in the corner. “It’s cute.”
“Don’t make fun,” She mumbled. “It’s fun, and relaxing.”
“I wasn’t making fun, baby,” You said, bringing her face out from your neck so you could look her in the eyes. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”
She smiled as she looked at you, leaning forward to meet your lips once again. You gasped before she could pull away. “Did you make that pot you gave me the cactus in?”
The grin spreading over her face said it all, and you don’t think you’ve ever been more in love than right now. You pulled away from her, walking over to the pottery wheel and looking around the room. 
“So,” Your fingers trailed over the top, sheepishly looking over at Natasha. “Are you gonna show me how to do it?”
“Do you want to?” She asked, excited.
“Do I want my hot strong girlfriend to show me how to throw pottery? Uhh, let me think about it.”
“You’re a dork,” She said, beckoning you to follow her. 
“Yeah, but I’m your dork,” She leaned down to kiss you quickly before pulling an apron down from the hook. She draped it over your head before you turned around, her lips meeting the back of your shoulder as she tied it around your waist. 
Natasha put her own apron on before moving to cut a large chunk of clay from a block, telling you to go sit by the pottery wheel. Your eyes followed the way her arms moved as she handled the chunk, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip when she threw it harshly onto the wheel in front of you. Thank God for muscle tanks.
She brought a bowl of water and a sponge closer before approaching you, asking for your hand. You looked up at her, very obviously trailing your eyes up her body. The apron tied snugly around her waist only accentuated her muscles and if you had a little less self-control you’d be drooling. 
“I thought you wanted me to show you how to do it,” She said, taking your hand when you didn’t react. You let her pull you up, clearing your mind of the filthy thoughts your brain had come up with. She sat on the stool you had just stood up from. “Come sit on my lap, princess.”
You pursed your lips, letting her pull you into her. You made yourself comfortable atop her toned thighs, her breath against the back of your neck sending a small shiver you felt down to your core. You closed your eyes, your breath catching in your throat as her lips connect with where your neck meets your shoulder. You lean back into her as she runs her hands down your arms, taking your hands in hers. 
“Let’s start,” She mumbled into your skin, making you turn your attention back to the task at hand. Her hands almost completely covered yours as she placed them on the piece of clay. Natasha smirked as she watched your face, she could clearly tell your mind was elsewhere, exactly where she wanted it. “I’m gonna start spinning the wheel.”
Her thigh flexed under you as she pressed down the pedal, your own thighs clenching at the movement. “Go ahead, baby, try to start shaping it.”
Natasha pressed against you, it snapped you out of your train of thought, making you focus back on your hands. Natasha placed her hands on your hips, holding them against her as she watched you try to shape the clay. You grunted, the material feeling too hard and dry against your hands to make any progress.
“Baby, it’s too hard,” You whined, slumping back into her. You looked up at her with your best puppy dog eyes, if only she could move those hands further down. Natasha pushed you forward, straightening you up. She placed your hands back on the clay, leaning over and taking a sponge from a bowl of water. You felt her thigh tense again and had to suppress a moan.
“You have to get it nice and wet, sweetheart,” The cool water dripped down the clay and mixed with your fingers, immediately making it easier to shape. Natasha licked her lips before leaving a trail of wet kisses up your neck to the corner of your jaw. “Look at that, your hands look so good working on this.”
Your eyes fluttered closed, her lips connecting back to your skin. You shuddered, struggling to maintain the shape you were molding. “I know where they could look better.”
One subtle shift of her hips and you felt it. Natasha smirked against your neck when you stiffened, making the semi-shaped blob turn back into an unrecognizable shape once again. Natasha tsked, taking your chin softly between her fingertips and making you focus back down on what you were doing. “Eyes on your work, princess.”
You’re not sure if it was the way her voice went down or the rasp that suddenly became apparent, you just couldn’t help the moan that erupted from your throat. “Daddy…”
Her hand trailed down your neck, fingers subtly wrapping around your neck before pressing briefly. You gulped, suddenly becoming aware of the increasing wetness between your thighs as you clenched them together. Natasha hummed against you, sucking a mark onto the skin on your neck as her hands roamed down your body. 
“C’mon, detka,” She mumbled, hands curling around your thighs, and spreading them apart just enough so she could idly run her fingertips up and down your inner thigh. “I don’t wanna have to get my hands dirty, I’d much rather have them right here instead.”
She slid her fingers down to your core, pressing down against it over your clothes. You whined, pushing and grinding back against her. Your brain was becoming overwhelmed with the feeling of her against you, not wanting to focus on anything but that. “B-but, I-”
“Shh,” She shushed you, her fingers starting a slow movement sliding up and down. You have never hated the two layers of clothing separating her fingers and your skin more. You felt her arms flex around you as she pulled your hips back against her. “But what baby? Can’t think with Daddy’s hands all over you?”
“I- Pleas-” You stuttered, struggling to come up with words as you pathetically rocked against the redhead’s hand. You pulled back from the wheel, fully leaning against Natasha for support. This time, she didn’t protest, giving in to what you wanted in favor of all the pretty noises you were making for her. You needed to do the one thing you knew would give her no choice but to take you right there and then. “Please Daddy, I need you to fuck me.”
By the way her hands stiffened against you, you knew you played your cards right. Natasha is always one to tell you how much she likes it when you use your words. She practically stood up with you, turning you around and pulling your apron’s string behind your back. She slid it over your head before roughly slamming you against her workbench. 
Her lips slammed against yours, her tongue immediately colliding with yours between moans and whines. Natasha slid her hands down to your hips and easily lifted you onto the tabletop. Your legs parted on instinct, allowing the older woman to stand right between them. Her fingers easily undid the button of your pants and pulled down the zipper, giving her enough space to slide her hand into your pants and feel how you’d already ruined your underwear. 
“This all for me, princess?” She asked, smirking against your lips. You whined in response, crossing your hands behind her head and trying to pull her closer. “Nuh-uh keep those hands right there, let Daddy do the work.”
Your brain practically melted as she wrapped one arm around your body, easily lifting you up so she could pull your pants and underwear down in one go. Her fingers easily met your core once again, coating themselves in your wetness as you moaned against her lips.
“Please, Daddy,” You whined, rocking your hips forward so you were almost grinding against her. “I need you, please.”
“Patience, my love,” She said, easily pushing two fingers past your entrance. You gasped at the intrusion, legs clenching around her arm as she moved her fingers inside you. Her lips met your neck again, leaving marks in their wake as they kissed down to the collar of your shirt. You whined, clenching around her fingers as she reached the perfect spot inside you.
You tried pushing Natasha closer to you by bringing your crossed wrists closer to your body. Natasha smirked, leaning in just enough to tease you, eyes glued to your face. Your eyes were screwed shut in pleasure, lips parted and waiting for Natasha’s. She hovered her lips right above yours, breaths mingling in the small space separating them. She loved being this close to you, she loved knowing how good she was making you feel.
“Nat-Natasha,” You whined, clenching around her fingers. She knew you were close, but she had to drag it out longer, seeing how much you could take. 
“That’s not my name,” She corrected, curling her fingers in the way she knew made your eyes roll to the back of your head. 
“Daddy, please,” Your voice came out unsteady as you tried to hold yourself back. “I-I’m gonna cum.”
“Not yet sweetheart,” She said, withdrawing her fingers. Tears almost rolled down your cheeks at the loss of contact, your core yearning for sweet release. “I want you to cum on my cock.”
Natasha leaned back and slid her pants down enough so she could take out the strap, your core tightening at the mere sight of it. You reached forward, taking a handful of Natasha’s shirt and pulling her into you. You kissed messily, trying to feel as much of the other as possible. 
The tip of the strap nudged your entrance, making your hips shift closer to the edge of the table. Natasha broke the kiss, just long enough to slide the large toy into your cunt. You moaned against Natasha as you bottomed out, the toy easily sliding in with your arousal alone. The redhead grunted as she began to fuck into you. The force made you support your weight on your hands behind you, your ankles locking behind Natasha. 
Your thighs clenched around Natasha’s body as she brought you closer and closer to the edge. The mumbles leaving your lips only spurring her on more. She looked at your face contorting in pleasure before trailing her lips down your jaw and onto your neck. Her hand moved from holding your hip to rest on your front, thumb rubbing against your clit. 
“You close, baby?” She asked, baby hairs sticking to her face as she continued thrusting into you. You couldn’t do anything other than nod, sloppily trying to move your hips in sync with hers. Natasha paused, pulling out before quickly and roughly flipping you onto your stomach on the table and sliding the strap back in. You arched your back in pleasure, reaching up and gripping the other edge of the table. Natasha held your hips, the sounds of your drenched pussy filling the room. “Cum for me, princess.”
You didn’t need any more than that to send you over the edge. Your body shook as the intense orgasm washed over you. Natasha slowed her thrusts, letting you ride out your orgasm as she watched you twitch under her. She slowly slid the toy out from your pussy when she saw your grip let up on the other side of the table, carefully flipping you around once again. You weakly reached up, wanting Natasha closer to you but too weak to sit up yourself.
“Fuck, Nat,” You mumbled, thighs instinctively twitching when the strap nudged your entrance when she came closer. 
Natasha’s lips moved softly against yours, her arms holding you against her as you lazily kissed her back. Her hands slid down to cup your ass, enjoying the way you whined softly against her. The two of you shared a blissful moment enjoying each other's closeness before she pulled away. 
“Do you have any other secret hobbies I should know about?”
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ravenromanova · 1 year ago
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Birthday girl
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Pairings: Natasha x Female avenger reader
Summary: You give Natasha her bday gift (I know her bday was the third but idc i loved this idea sue me)
Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDERAGE SMUT SMUT SMUT!!!!! Mommy kink, Fingering, Oral, Mommy Natasha, Dom/Sub dynamics, Squirting. DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDER 18+!!!!!!
Kinkmas masterlist - Main masterlist - Send me requests!!!
~ Natasha sighed as she entered the compound. She just came back from a week long mission that went awry. It was supposed to be a simple intel mission but instead the Hydra agents got wind of her presence and ambushed her. They ended up capturing her for a few days (she let them take her so she could get more intel) And then today she made her grand escape and made her way back home to you.
She trudged up the stairs that led to your shared room after she debriefed with Fury. Her brows furrowed in confusion when she got to the base of the stairs and saw rose petals leading to the door. Natashas eyes widened and her jaw dropped at the sight in front of her when she opened the door.
You were sitting in the edge of the bed with a cake in between your thighs. Red and black lingerie adorned your soft body making her weak in the knees.
“Happy birthday Natty” You said with a bright smile as she walked to the end of the bed.
Her heart fluttered at your words. “You remembered” She said tearfully while she looked at the red and black birthday cake with spiders on it. “That’s beautiful detka thank you”
“Of course i remembered. I knew you had a stressful mission so i wanted to do something low key for tonight. Tomorrow is your party with the team” You said giddily wrapping your arms around her neck bringing her into a soft kiss. She groaned into the kiss before she moved the cake over to the dresser.
“As much as i would love to eat this now is much rather eat you” Her boldness made you gasp a little and your heart rate speed up.
“Well it is your birthday so who am i do deny you” Natasha smiled at your words as she crawled onto the bed and stood in her knees in front of you. Her hands found home on your hips and she brought you in for another heated kiss. She placed her hands on your shoulders and pushed you to lay against the pillows.
As you laid on the bed with your hair sprawled out around you are stood there for a moment admiring you. “Happy birthday to me indeed” She whispered as she ran her cool hands up and down your body.
Natasha couldn’t take her hands or eyes off you in this moment you looked to god. Laying there in the lingerie she picked out months ago, your chest heaving up and down in anticipation ave not to mention the lustful look you were giving her. Slowly but surely she made her way back to your lips and kissed you with a heat unlike before. The kiss was needy and sloppy a mixture of saliva and tongue abs neither of you cared.
“So pretty” She praised kissing your collarbone as her nimble fingers went behind your back and unhooked your bra. You shivered as your bare chest came in contact with the cool air of the room. Natasha wasted no time in wrapping her lips around your hardened nipple making you cry out in pleasure.
“Please mommy” You begged clawing at her back leaving marks in your trail.
“Patience detka” She chided in your ear before she nipped it slightly. You tried not to squirm under her as her lips trailed down the valley of your breasts, down your stomach and finally she kissed the skin above your panties.
Her fingers skimmed over the hem of your underwear leaving goosebumps on your skin. She kissed the soft skin of your inner thighs along with leaving a few hickeys as well.
“So wet and i haven’t even touched you yet baby” She teased looking at the growing wet patch on your panties.
“It’s hard not to when you look like that” You pointed out and ended up making the big bad black widow blush.
“Since you’re such a sweet girl i won’t tease you tonight baby” Her words made your heart flutter and speed up with anticipation.
Natasha wasted no time in hooking her fingers underneath the hem of your underwear and sliding them down your plush soft thighs. Goosebumps littered your skin as her fingertips trailed along your bikini line. She was true to her word and immediately dived into your pussy.
She moaned at the taste of your juices on her tongue sending vibrations straight through you. You mewled feeling her warm mouth on your clit. She sucked on your clit with determination and fever like she was a woman starved.
“Oh fuck mommy” You moaned as she started to suck on you a little harder than before. Your back arches off the bed and your hands found home in her hair and you slightly rod her face.
“So fucking sweet detka” She praised just before she let her tongue slip inside of you feeling your walls contract around her.
“i-im gonna cum holy fuck!” You scream gripping her hair harder as you squirted on her face. She kept her tongue in you and started rubbing your clit again making you scream in pleasure.
“T-Too sensitive mommy c-can’t” You pleaded trying to pull away from her but she hooked her arms around your hips and kept you close to her face as she continued.
“Take it baby. Be a good girl and take it for mommy” Natasha pushes you to keep going and you know you have to take it. It’s her birthday you are you to deny her your pleasure if she wants it that badly?
“Y-Yes mommy i-i’ll take it i’ll be a good girl for you” You moaned out as you second orgasm washed over you. “OH FUCK!” The moan you let out was nothing less of pornographic.
“Such a good girl” Her sultry voice rang through your ears as you came down from your high.
Natasha came back up towards you and brought you in for a passionate kiss. You moaned a little as you tasted yourself on her lips.
“Happy birthday Natty” You repeated with a smile on your face. She smiled wide and kissed you again.
“Happy birthday indeed” She giggled a little before you flipped the two of you over so you were on top.
“I need to give you the other half of your present” Her eyebrows quirked at your words. But all of her questions were answered as you used your powers to remove all her clothing leaving her naked under you.
“I wanna please you mommy” You said innocently giving her your best smile.
“Go on then” She nodded her head giving you the go ahead.
You parted her lips with your fingers before you started kicking her pussy up and down with intent. She moaned at the feeling of your tongue on her body.
“So good baby so fucking good” Natasha praises running her hand through your hair. Her hand gripped the root of your hair and she moved your head up and down leaving her with the control. You stuck your tongue out and let her fuck your face and enjoyed every second of it.
“Fuck baby gonna make me cum already” Her words sparked something in you and you brought you fingers to her clit and started rubbing.
“Cum for me mommy” You said with as much innocence as you could muster in this sinful moment.
“Keep doing that and i will” She said throwing her head back as you went back and shoved your tongue in her while still rubbing her clit.
You relentlessly ate her pussy as if it was your first time. Natasha’s moans filled the room along with her wet sounds of her pussy. Her grip got tighter on your hair and she continued to fuck your face chasing her orgasm.
“Fuck baby right there” She praised feeling her orgasm rush over her. Natasha came with a scream and her hands fell from your hair.
“Oh my fucking god” She said breathlessly as she laid against the pillow.
“Did i do good mommy?” You asked sitting next to her rubbing your fingers over her perked nipples.
“You did so good detka” She praised shivering at your touch.
“Good because we aren’t done” The smile that adorned your face made her heart speed up and another wave of arousal course through her.
“Oh this is definitely the best birthday ever” Natasha said pulling her onto her body making you straddle her before bringing you in for a kiss.
The night was filled with soft touches and sinful moans as the two of you celebrated her birthday together. From that night on Natasha’s birthday became her favorite day of the year.
~The end~
a/n: I got a little carried away lmaooo. But i hope yall enjoyed 🖤🤍
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deviouz · 2 years ago
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. . . mean dom!nat !!
mean dom!nat who likes to grab you by the chin and squish your cheeks together whenever you talk back. she’ll shut you up real quick when her eyes narrow and jaw clenches. she’ll have your heart practically beating out of your chest so fast it makes you lightheaded.
“you wanna keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, or are you going to make me do something about it?”
mean dom!nat who makes you beg for her touch so loudly your voice goes hoarse and eyes burn from the endless streams of tears. those pleas fall on deaf ears as she’ll keep skirting about until she’s had her fun.
“what’s the matter, pretty girl? you’re really that desperate, huh?”
mean dom!nat who absolutely loves finding any kind of reason to bend you over her lap and spank until you’re left sobbing apologies and desperate cries for mercy. she especially loves doing this whenever you’re wearing any kind of dress or skirt.
“you know i just can’t help myself, sweetheart. such a pretty dress, and it’s just too easy to bend you over. now, be a good girl and count these out for me, hm?”
mean dom!nat who loves to edge you then follow it up with an unwavering session of overstimulation. she’ll make you call her mommy or miss and look in her eyes as she makes you come undone with just her hands.
“ah, ah, you’re not done until i say you are. now, let mommy eat this pretty cunt out until she’s all done, okay?”
mean dom!nat who loves to cover you up with love bites whenever she pleases. you could be busy cleaning up around the house and she’ll come up behind you, hands wrapped tightly around your hips, and set about covering your neck up until there’s a mess between your thighs.
“what, is that all it takes to get you all wet and needy for me? go ahead and tell me what it is you want this time — my fingers or my mouth.”
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thesvnandthemooon · 3 months ago
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𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐨
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18+ MINORS DNI
a/n: listened to juno in the car and had this idea 😋
summary: based on the song by sabrina carpenter (you babytrap nat); g!p nat, college!au, natasha's kind of a fuckboy
warnings: contains quite a bit of smut (hence the 18+ tag), babytrapping (= mildly toxic relationship?), buff athlete nat because that’s a warning in itself
word count: 11k (i fear it’s gotten impossible for me to write anything under 5k words lol)
✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷
Initiating public sex in front of your friends should never be a good idea.
When you're as bored as you are right now, though, that opinion quickly begins to waver.
Hand under your shirt, your head on her shoulder. The movie you're watching is one you haven't seen before. Teen pregnancy, Michael Cera, indie soundtracks, yawn. You sigh, first quietly, then a little louder.
Natasha's nose brushes against your temple. Her hand travels higher up, fingers grazing your bra.
"Not a fan?", she mumbles. You lean into her, feeling her bicep against your shoulder. "We can ditch them."
"No." It's been a while since you last had time to spend with your friends. It's also been a while since you didn't sneak off early to fuck each other brainless. "Let's stay", you say, turning your head. "At least so we can see whether they actually fall for each other."
"No offense, but who would fall for that guy? Even I would look better in those shorts."
"Don't disrespect Michael", you mumble, smiling. "Also, you'd need bigger ones to fit everything, babe."
In front of you, Clint rolls his eyes. He lets out the longest sigh known to man and turns his head, his expression lacking any amusement whatsoever. He should be used to this kind of behavior, but to be fair, he just wants one night where your shameless PDA doesn't ruin everything.
"Alright", he says. "One more comment like that and-"
"God, you're a prude." She throws her empty red solo cup at him and he jumps up. "Chill."
He directs one last warning glare at you both, then he plops back down onto the floor. As soon as he's distracted again — drinking beer, talking to his girlfriend — she pulls you closer. Your hand finds her lower stomach, gently pressing against it.
Her breath hits your ear when she exhales, hot and slow. Your hand moves a little lower. Not too far, just enough to flirt with the limit. Her fingers curl into the soft skin of your stomach.
She doesn't say anything, though. Your fingertips dance over the fabric of her sweatpants. They graze the bulge there, prominent even when she's not hard, before finally cupping it. A sharp breath escapes her.
Still, she doesn't stop you. Her eyes stay glued to the screen, where Juno is currently giving birth. The way she's staring makes it seem like she's actually invested in what's happening, but you know the truth. One wrong move, and she'll either embarrass herself — or ruin her pants.
Or both. Most likely both.
You already look irresistible enough, wearing that sinfully short skirt. With your legs tucked under your butt and your vanilla perfume clouding her senses, your hand on her cock can only lead to a disaster.
"Y/N", she whispers through gritted teeth. You palm her crotch and feel her harden.
"Mhm?" You lean in and press your lips to her jaw. Red lipstick stains her skin. It's a sight so satisfying that you keep trailing kisses across her cheek.
Natasha closes her eyes. A noise, muffled and quiet, gets stuck in her throat. You scoff and move your hand to wrap your fingers around her length, only the fabric of her clothes separating you.
"What is it?", you ask, giving a few testing strokes. She shakes her head and you finally hear that soft whimper you'd been waiting for. "Aw, poor baby. All worked up."
In front of you, Steve mumbles something. He gets up, but before he can turn around and catch Natasha and you in this compromising situation, you move and quickly sit on her lap.
Bad idea. This might be worse than the almost-handjob you were about to give her.
Steve doesn't notice anything, but you do. Her head falls forward to lean against your shoulder, her hands grip your waist. You shift and grind against her boner, feeling her tip rub against the wet patch on your panties. At least your skirt hides everything.
You rub against her with more insistence, eyes closing. Her cock, though still clothed, fits perfectly between your folds. If you try hard enough, you can pretend she's inside of you.
"Fuck", she moans. You reach behind you to squeeze her, squeeze any part of her you can reach. "Fuck, I'll come."
Clint pauses, then slowly turns his head. You go completely still, eyes fixed on the tv and your hands folded in your lap. He knows you better than to believe this little act you're putting on, though.
You're surprised he doesn't drag you out by your collars, but you get sent back to your dorms anyway.
"Idiot", you say, grabbing the front of her letter jacket. You pull her into a deep kiss, her hands roaming your body. Salt and butter, sugar and green apple. The snacks of the evening created an addictive taste, and you silently thank Clint for not getting garlic knots again.
"You started it", she pants, trailing her lips down your neck. Your back hits the wall of the dormitory, her hard-on pressing against your hip. Her hand disappears under your skirt and palms your crotch, feeling the soaked fabric of your panties. You're dripping down your thighs. "And I'll end it. Fuck."
You moan, the sound a little too obvious. It's quiet outside, apart from the occasional hum of car engines in the distance. Due to it being a Tuesday night, there are no parties. Most people are either in their dorms or pulling an all-nighter in the library. If anyone's got their window open, they'll hear you.
Natasha sinks her teeth into your shoulder. You cry out, a little louder, and she shushes you by nudging your panties aside with her fingers.
"Quiet", she mumbles, voice gentle like a praise. "Quiet for me, baby."
You writhe when she pushes two fingers into you. They slip in easily, your folds slick with wet heat, and immediately begin thrusting into you. You buck your hips to meet her movements, but she pulls out before you can even get started.
"Hey", you protest, ignoring the fact that she's already got her arm wrapped around you. Fingers in her mouth to lick off excess moisture, she pulls you toward the entrance. "Nat, I'm horny."
"Where's your roommate again?"
"Huh?" You frown, then lightly slap her chest. "Right! Good call."
She laughs quietly, the sound rough and strained, and walks up the stairs. Her hand moves to dip under your skirt. She gropes your ass, kneading the flesh. "I seriously don't know how you got into college, baby."
"Wow. Here I was, considering head tonight, and you made me change my mind."
"Oh, please." She pushes open the door and walks you to the bed. As soon as she's seated, you straddle her and wrap your arms around her neck. Her hands are under your shirt before you can even kiss her. Her tongue brushes against the seam of your lips and you open your mouth.
You grind against her boner, which only makes the ache between your legs worse. Natasha breaks the kiss to tug off your top. Her eyes dart a little lower, zeroing in on your chest. Full breasts, spilling out of a lacy bra with tiny hearts embroidered in it.
Her face sinks to bury itself between your boobs. You feel wet kisses on your skin.
"Taste so good."
"Nat."
"So soft."
"Nat."
She huffs, but doesn't look up. Her hands move your hips, making you rub against her cock. The crotch of her sweatpants is stained with a little wet patch. "What?"
"I want you to fuck me, not make out with my breasts all night long."
You feel the heat of her cheeks. Smirking faintly, you run your hand into her hair.
"Screw you."
"I'm trying." You twist a strand of her hair around your finger and tug. "Come on. I thought of a new position we could try."
That manages to make her look up, though she seems skeptic. It's almost like a game you've been playing — who can come up with the wildest position? Anything counts, as long as it leads to at least one of you having an orgasm.
"You better not disappoint this time", she says and kisses your jaw. Her hands splay out on your ass, fingertips brushing under the fabric of your panties. "That last one was a letdown."
You hum. You have to agree with her here — sidesaddle riding doesn't work no matter how you interpret it, apparently.
"This one's good", you say, getting off her lap. She groans.
"We could pause the game", she pleads, making puppy dog eyes at you. It's a fun game, sure, but sometimes, she wants to see your face while she fucks you. "Just tonight."
You tilt your head at her, eyebrows raised in silent approval for her to keep going.
"I'll let you top", Natasha adds. That's enough for you to be sold.
. . .
When you wake up, it's because of someone knocking on the door.
At first, you don't notice it. Too tight is sleep's grip on you, too warm is your bed. You're curled into Natasha, her arms wrapped around you and holding you close. But then they knock again, more insistently this time, and you sigh.
You squint to block out the sun and get up, stepping over the empty ramen cups you discarded on the floor after a late-night craving. Behind you, Natasha mutters something and rolls over. You slip into a loose shirt and open the door.
Randy, your resident advisor, pauses when he sees you. Messy hair, a thin shirt that barely reaches your thighs, your neck littered with marks. You raise your eyebrows at him.
"Yes?", you drawl. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. His freckled face flushes pink and he coughs. "Come on, I don't have all morning."
"There, uhm- there was a noise complaint", he says, fingers drumming against the clipboard he for some reason always carries around. "From one of the other students."
You give him a blank stare. "Okay?"
"No, not okay. Look, I don't care what you do in your free time, but maybe keep it down? The walls are quite thin, and the excessive noise, uh..." He sighs, eyes flitting down your body again. He shifts awkwardly, clipboard angled a bit, and you realize that he's trying to conceal a certain problem he's run into.
If the situation was different, you'd be irritated. But watching Randy, the 30-something guy who started working here two years ago, stumble over his own words and stutter like a nervous first grader, is too amusing to genuinely get pissed.
You lean against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Deep breaths, honey. Don't faint on me."
He tries to glare at you, but fails miserably. "Y/N, I'm being serious. Others want to sleep."
"Yeah, yeah." You wave your hand dismissively. "I'll tell Nat."
Behind you, Natasha groans into your pillow. "Tell them to mind their own business", she mutters, voice rough with sleep. "Or move the fuck out."
He briefly peeks into the room, then directs his attention toward you again. You give him a challenging look.
"Nat", he repeats. The way he says her name does manage to irritate you now. You know what others think of her. You also know they're not entirely wrong. "Oh, yeah, fine. Good."
"Good", you repeat, stepping back with one hand on the doorknob. "Oh, and Randy? I know you've been getting, like, zero action lately, but I just woke up. Not even you can be that desperate. Maybe touch some grass?"
He lets out a choked sound. Before he can say anything, you wave two fingers at him and close the door.
"Buh-bye!", you call, just before the door snaps in. You twirl around and spot Natasha, still half asleep and sprawled out on your bed. Her red hair is loose for once, messy and soft, and you ignore the urge to get back into bed with her.
She hums, stretching like a cat, all lazy smiles and toned arms. An admittedly enticing sight. "Got rid of him?"
"Oh yeah." You run your hand along her arm. "I kinda feel bad for the guy."
"Don't. He's a creep." She puts her hand on the back of your thigh, tugging on it. If you didn't know better, you'd think she's scared you'll just slip away. "Feel bad for me. The abandoned girlfriend."
You huff, not budging. You'd love to go back to bed, but you have other things to do.
"Classes", you remind her, turning away. You take off your shirt and she groans. "Shower, too." Your panties follow. This time, she lets out a full blown moan.
You turn around and give her an unimpressed (albeit slightly amused) look. "And that is why we got a noise complaint."
"Come on", she whines. "Not even professors like their own classes. You can afford ten more minutes, baby. I won't even make you put on your clothes again."
"You say that like it's supposed to benefit me."
"It benefits both of us." Natasha grunts and finally sits up, slouching. Her arms are crossed over her lap as her eyes travel up and down your body. It takes you a second to realize why.
She tilts her head, cheeks pink. The expression on her face is both guilty and hopeful, like she's weighing her odds. A productive day or a few more minutes — maybe hours, if she plays her cards right — in bed with her?
Her chances aren't looking too bad.
"You can't be serious", you deadpan. Of course, she is.
"I'll be quick."
"You're never quick!"
"You can't blame me for that", she retorts. "God, how am I supposed to keep my hands off you for the next few hours?"
"Next few 'hours'? Babe, you have practice today. Plus, I wanted to go shopping."
Natasha flops onto her back dramatically. It gives you a full view of her body, head to toe, with her not-so-little problem included. You bite the inside of your cheek frustratedly as you realize she's chipping away at your resolve.
"Practice isn't that important", she mutters, her forearms covering her eyes.
"Babe, you're team captain", you say, turning around. Focus on something else, anything else. If you cave, you will definitely be late. Or, worst case scenario, you won't leave your dorm before lunchtime — again. "Just...take a cold shower. I'll see you tonight."
She mutters something about 'showers being a scam' under her breath, then finally gets up. You watch her gather her stuff and get dressed, but you keep her letter jacket clutched to your chest. She raises her eyebrows and reaches out her hand.
"No."
"That's mine."
"Nope."
Natasha rolls her eyes, but ultimately just kisses you before slipping into her shoes. She can't help it — she's weak for you.
"I'll get you back for this", she says, then the door falls shut behind her.
. . .
The basketball circles the hoop once, twice, leaving everyone on the edge of their seats.
One leg crossed over the other, you lean forward. Red lips part slightly, manicured nails dig into the thin skin of your knee. All eyes are on the ball, which wobbles — but then it slips off and bounces away. You groan and toss your head back.
"Come on, Romanoff!", someone next to you shouts.
"Damn it", you curse. You go to her games all the time, and usually, you enjoy it. Watching her miss a shot, however, is not the most pleasant part of the experience.
Natasha runs her hand over her hair, clearly frustrated. She's been off her shooting game today, and she doesn't know why. She's not doing anything different.
You watch her trail backwards, bouncing on her heels and her eyes locked on the hoop. When she hears her team's complaints, she turns around. She yells at a teammate, then at a player from the opposite team, before the coach calls for a timeout.
She jogs to the bench, snatches her water bottle, and tips her head back to take a swig. Baby hairs stick to her sweaty temples, the veins on her arms popping. You lean forward.
"Nat!"
She looks up, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched. Then she realizes it's you and, just like that, her scowl softens. She glances at her team to check if anyone's watching her before approaching you. You're in the first row, right next to the home team's bench, so all she has to do is lean on the barrier separating the seats from the court.
"Hey", she says.
"'Hey'? Are you kidding me? What the hell was up with that shot?"
Natasha frowns and huffs. "Alright, I don't need a lecture right now. So unless you want to kiss me for good luck-"
A girl from her team — one you don't know too well — nudges her. Natasha barely glances at her, but it's enough for you to lean forward and tug at her ear.
"What the fuck!"
"I'm serious! You missed by, like, half a mile."
The glare she gives you is deadly, but you deserve it. You are being a little unfair. For good reason, though: whenever you're there to berate her, she suddenly starts playing much better. It's like magic. She needs a healthy dose of bullying from you for her performance to be at its peak.
"Alright", she snaps. "Be my guest. Suit up and try, if you think you'll do better."
"Oh, no." You reach up and brush your fingers along her jaw before resting them under her chin. "You're the best, aren't you? So show me that's true, and I'll reward you. But losers don't get a reward."
"You drive a hard bargain", she mutters. You smile innocently and tap her bottom lip. "Fine. Fine, I'll...do better, I guess."
"That's my girl", you purr and, with a light push against her mouth, send her back to her team.
The game continues.
Before halftime, Natasha's team was trailing 34-37, but after some strong defense and a layup, the score is tied again. That is, until the opposing team hits a couple of shots.
You're agitated, but confident. At least you're pretty sure you are.
Most of her games are like this. Her team needs to be slightly behind for her to be able to give it her all. You convince yourself it won't be different this time, either.
Eyes zeroed in on Natasha, you watch her every move. How she dribbles the ball, weaves through the defenders, loses the ball again. The game is a close one. They're playing against one of the better teams this time, and it shows.
It's a back and forth between the teams. The opposing team gets a small lead, which is quickly lost thanks to another shot. During the last minute, they're tied again. Teams are trading baskets, but you don't know whether you should stay positive.
For a while, it looks bad. Time is running out. Then, in a split second, Natasha is open at the top of the arc. The pass is fast, almost too high, but she catches it. Your breathing stops for a moment and you barely manage to restrain yourself from jumping up from your seat.
Five seconds left. The team's are neck-and-neck. Natasha has the ball.
Three seconds left. She makes her move, stepping back for a three-pointer. She rises, muscles coiled, and lets the ball fly.
One second left. After cutting through the air and briefly hitting the hoop, the ball swishes through the net.
66-64. The buzzer sounds. Her team has won.
You're on your feet before you realize it, yelling along with the audience. Natasha's team crashes into her the second she's back on the ground, but she only lets them slap her back and punch her arms for a few seconds before she weaves through the small crowd.
You hop over the barricade and into her arms, not caring about the fact she's all sweaty. Her lips press against your neck, her hand rubs up and down your back. She spins you around.
"You did it!"
"Because of you."
"That shot was amazing. More of that, please."
Natasha laughs, low and rough and exhausted, and tips her head back to look up at you. You smile and kiss her. She tastes like salt and Gatorade.
"Still the best?", she teases after pulling away. The soles of your sneakers make a quiet thudding sound against the vinyl floor.
"Always", you promise, pecking her lips once more. Natasha smirks and tugs off her jersey to hand it to you. With the fabric gone, she's almost naked. Only a sports bra and shorts cover her body. You earn a few stares from the opposing team, who isn't used to your little ritual, but you don't notice. It's a nice view, so you'd be an idiot to look at anyone but her.
You put on the jersey and let her pull you into her side again. She kisses you, slow and unhurried, while leading you back toward her team.
It's a last minute decision from the team to go to a bar together. Natasha takes a quick shower before you leave, now wearing something more comfortable. Getting her to dress up is a losing battle, so you don't even try this time. Plus, there's something distinctly attractive about the grey sweatpants she's sporting (or rather, what she's sporting inside the grey sweatpants).
You stay glued to her side pretty much all night. You're in her lap, her arm firmly holding you in place. The bass makes the ground vibrate and the alcohol is clouding your senses, but it's still early enough for you to be somewhat aware of reality.
You lean your cheek against her temple, then turn your head to brush your lips against her skin. She hums and squeezes your thigh, but her attention wavers. Two girls approach her, both of them around your age and probably fellow students.
Natasha glances at them, eyebrows raised. You cup her nape and brush your thumb against her hairline.
The girls smile, a little too brightly, and start talking about the basketball game. They're shameless — even with you, wearing Natasha's jersey and sitting on her lap, they're still going on and on about the game and the shots she made.
With every word that leaves their glossy pink lips, Natasha's focus on you slips more and more. Her hand on your thigh loosens. Her gaze, first flickering between you and the others, starts to linger on them. Her lips curve into that confident little smile you know too well.
You roll your eyes and scoot off her lap. If she has to do this, you don't want to be present. You excuse yourself and go to the restroom, where you freshen up. More lipstick, more perfume. You lift the front of Natasha's jersey and take a whiff to see whether it smells. It's not horrible, but noticeable enough, so you decide to change into the top you brought.
When you return to the bar, Natasha has leaned over to the girls. Arms crossed on the bar's counter, a lazy smirk on her face. The post-game glow is on full display. She tilts her head and mumbles something. It takes you a moment to realize she's flirting.
The girls are delighted. Giggling, shrugging, leaning forward as well. Their expressions indicate they clearly believe at least one of them has a shot. You understand why — Natasha, even after getting into a relationship with you, never quite got rid of her fuckboy-image —, but that doesn't mean you're not furious.
You want to compose yourself, you really do. You're pretty sure this isn't what it looks like, anyway. Fingernails digging into your palms, you watch them for another moment. Then, Natasha subtly bites her lip in that way that first drew you to her, and you've had enough.
You're next to her within seconds, your hand wrapping around her wrist. She lets out a grunt as you drag her away, leaving the two girls speechless and mildly annoyed.
"Have you lost your mind?", she complains, finally finding her voice again. You're already halfway into a bathroom stall.
"Have you?", you snap, pushing her inside and slamming the door shut. Natasha pauses, her eyes traveling up and down your body. The top, almost translucent and leaving little to the imagination, has her more than a little distracted. "My face is up here, you bastard."
"What? Hey!" She frowns. "What happened? What'd I do?"
There's a significant height difference between her and you, but it's not like that ever bothered you. You shove her against the wall, your eyes blazing. Her first instinct is to step forward — she's taller, all shoulders and muscle —, but she can tell you're pissed. Once she realizes she's fucked up, she lifts her hands and almost shrinks under your glare.
"Are you playing dumb? Don't play dumb!"
"What are you even- I was talking to them! They asked about the game!"
"You were flirting!"
Natasha scoffs, her cheeks a nervous-rosy pink. It'd look cute if you weren't about to slam her head through the plastic wall of the stall.
"I wasn't 'flirting'", she argues. "I was talking to them."
"No", you retort. "You were flirting. I could tell. They had that glittery look in their eyes stupid bitches get when you're close to them."
She blinks, caught off-guard, and her head tilts. The word you used is one you usually stay away from. The second you start cussing out other girls? Okay, now she knows you're mad mad.
"Baby", she says slowly, "I swear we were just talking. Nothing else. I don't give a fuck about anyone but you, and you know it."
"Right." You let out a bitter laugh. The sound makes her stomach tighten. "That's good to hear. Maybe it'd be believable if you hadn't tried to-"
The door of the bathroom stall next to yours opening cuts you off. You pause and turn when you hear the quiet pattering sound. Toilet paper rips. The person flushes. Then, shuffling of feet. It takes unbelievably long, and you let out a long sigh.
"Can you hurry?", you finally bark, and the person drops their purse. Natasha pinches the bridge of her nose.
"Sorry!", they say, their voice a squeak, and leave the stall. Water runs, more paper towels, then the door falls shut. You turn to Natasha again, whose ears are as pink as her cheeks.
You raise your eyebrows, as if daring her to say something. Her mouth opens, then closes, and she rubs the back of her neck.
"Okay", she says. "Maybe it was flirting, in a way. I didn't mean to, though."
Your fingers tighten on the front of her zip hoodie. Her eyes widen in silent panic.
"You can't flirt without meaning to flirt!"
"You totally can", she says, her back thudding against the wall once more. "Can you stop that?! Jesus, you're scary."
That last bit is mumbled, but you hear it anyway. It's enough to make you laugh — a sound that slips out unintentionally — but you quickly shake your head.
"I can be way scarier, you know. This is nothing."
"I totally believe that", she says, frowning petulantly. "You're turning into a tiny terror."
Despite your anger, your lips twitch again. Your grasp on her hoodie loosens, your scowl softens the tiniest bit. It's enough for Natasha, who first tried to gauge your mood for a few seconds, to take a leap of faith.
"The sexiest tiny terror", she adds, pulling you closer. You sigh. "My tiny terror. Why would I want anyone else when I have you?"
"This feels like manipulation, babe."
Her eyes light up — babe. She's getting somewhere.
"It's not", she promises, kissing your forehead. Her hands roam your sides, your hips, and slip under your top. "I'm being serious. Scout's honor."
"You're so full of shit."
Natasha grins and keeps kissing your face. Your cheeks, your eyebrows, the corner of your mouth. Unfortunately, each press of her lips against your skin softens you further. You'll probably just have to accept she's an expert at buttering you up.
"Come on now", she mumbles, her mouth against your ear. You giggle quietly when her tongue briefly flicks against your earlobe. "You know you love me."
"I must've done something terrible in my past life to deserve this."
She hums, her hands palming your sides. You exhale and lean into her, willing yourself to not give in — and failing. Her lips brush against your neck, sucking a hickey into the sensitive skin, and a shiver rolls up your spine.
Without really noticing, you press closer. Natasha's fingers find the clasp of your bra and swiftly unhook it.
"Hey", you protest, trying to bat her hand away. She buries her face against your neck, but doesn't budge. Her hand slides around to your front. "I can't believe I put up with you."
"Me neither", she mumbles, smirking faintly. "I'm a lucky idiot."
"Well, that's true."
Natasha kisses your neck, then your shoulder. Her hands push up your top and reveal your skin inch by inch. Your breath stutters when, suddenly, the roles are reversed and you feel your back against the wall.
Your hands come up to tangle in her hair. She grips your thighs and mouths at your neck.
"You're not forgiven, you know."
"Sure."
Her teeth sink into your neck. You barely manage to speak.
"I mean it."
Underwear around your ankles, you help her tug her sweatpants down. She struggles with the condom, but once the piece of plastic is wrapped around her cock snugly, she holds your hips in place and buries herself inside you. No time to adjust — she sets a fast pace.
The back of your head hits the wall and you let out a moan. Natasha keeps rutting into you, moaning breathily, your hands in her hair and her hands gripping your ass. She stuffs you up to the brim, cock pulsing and twitching, and pounds into you relentlessly.
Right as you're just about to tumble over the edge, the bathroom door opens again. You feel a moan rise up in your throat and quickly slap your own hand over your mouth, stifling the sound. Natasha laughs breathlessly, but then whines against your neck.
Whoever entered seems oblivious. They're on the phone, talking rapidly, while water flows in the background. You hear the clinking of stilettos on tiles and then smell a faint waft of some overly sweet perfume.
This whole situation usually wouldn't pose much of an issue. You're close enough, and you know from experience that you can keep quiet when needed. But Natasha, being who she is, slows down. Her grip on you loosens, her movements are drawn-out. Your thighs tremble and you groan against your own palm.
"I'll kill you."
"Ssh, baby", she mumbles, dragging her lips along your jaw. Her hips meet yours, again and again and again, but she's going too slow to really achieve anything. "Don't get us caught."
Every deliberate roll of her hips sends shockwaves of pleasure through you. You whimper and bite down on your palm harder, meeting her movements with your hips. The pressure increases, and so does the need to push Natasha to go faster. Your thighs clench around her, but all she does is smile against your neck. You rock against her hips, desperate for more.
"Fuck you", you hiss, but the words die on your tongue when she picks up the pace. She ruts into you, urging you closer to the edge while you wrestle with the impulse to shout her name.
"I love you", she says, each word punctuated by a soft grunt. The bathroom door falls shut, and you finally get coaxed into that sweet high of mindless oblivion.
. . .
The sun is long gone, replaced by the milky light of the moon that's seeping into the library.
Natasha called it a 'study-session', hoping it'd turn into something else entirely. But exams are coming up, and as much as you'd like to hide in the encyclopedia aisle and hook up again, you'd rather she passes.
You're sitting on the table in front of her, with her head in your lap, as you test her knowledge on the subject. Sports Law — something you've only gotten familiar with since dating her.
"That's wrong", you say, running your fingers through her hair. "It's title IX of the education amendments of 1972. You should know that, babe."
She groans and turns her head, burying her face between your thighs. You smile faintly and drum your fingers against her scalp.
"Who cares? I'll pass, anyway. I always do."
"I want you to ace this one, though."
"Pipe dream."
"Nat."
Another groan. She pushes up the fabric of your shirt and shifts, her lips brushing against your lower abdomen. You bite back a soft sound of pleasure.
Not now. You have other things to focus on. But god, her hands start massaging your thighs, and her lips feel warm and plush, and the library seems empty enough. Heat pools in your lower belly and you quickly shove her off you.
"No", say, voice strained. "Study. Now."
"You're boring", Natasha mutters, grabbing the book and skimming the pages. "I know all of this. It's easy."
"You got four questions wrong", you counter, glancing at the screen of her phone when it buzzes. Her wallpaper flashes on the screen — a picture of you, only wrapped into silky bedsheets, with kiss marks on your shoulders and your hair a mess. But that's not what catches your attention. It's the message that just popped up.
A girl named Tara.
Natasha lifts her head and peeks at her phone. You snatch it before she can reach for it.
"Who's that?", you prompt.
"A girl from Sports Economics", she says, sitting up. She tries to grab the phone, but you hold it out of her reach. "Babe."
"Why's she texting you at midnight?"
"Not sure", she replies, irritated, and tries to grab it again. Her fingertips brush against the edge of the phone. "I could tell you if you'd let me read the damn text."
"She always texts you this late?", you ask, glancing up at the phone.
A simple message — hey, you awake? :) — but still unexpected enough to annoy you. You squint and try to look at her profile picture.
"Hold on, is that the girl who said hi to you in the cafeteria the other day? The one with the pink eyeshadow?"
"Yeah", she says, her arm dropping in defeat. "Tara. Like I said, I know her from Econ."
"It's midnight", you mutter, bringing the phone back down. Before Natasha can protest, you've used her face to unlock the phone and opened the chat. Natasha rolls her eyes and huffs, so you pinch her bottom lip. "You should tell her to find some new makeup. I thought she was fighting for her life against allergies."
"You're mean."
"Her makeup sucks."
"Doesn't make it any less mean", she argues, resting her head on your lap again. She sighs, eyes closing, and waits for you to finish whatever you're doing. "Still scrolling?"
"It's a long chat", you mutter, thumb swiping over the screen. Luckily, the messages seem innocent enough. At least Natasha's do. "She wants you."
"I'm pretty sure she's straight."
"Nat", you say, putting her phone aside. "Straight girls want you, too."
She looks up, smirking. You flick her forehead.
"Ow!"
You narrow your eyes at her, watching her rub the spot you flicked. "You're enjoying this."
"I am", she says bluntly. "You're going on and on about some girl I really don't care about."
"She cares about you", you argue. "In the past, that seemed to be enough."
Natasha scoffs and sits up, leaning back in her chair. She studies you for a moment, her arms crossed over her chest, then sighs. Her legs stretch out under the table.
"Exactly", she finally says. "In the past. Not now, not last week, but when it didn't matter."
"I feel like some things don't stop mattering."
"Like my love for you", she flirts. You kick her side and she lets out a quiet 'oof'. "What'd I do to deserve that, huh?!"
"You can't flirt your way out of everything, you know!"
"I'm not flirting my way out", she protests, looping her arms around your waist and tugging you closer. You sigh, thighs snugly wrapped around her torso. "I love you. Nothing can change that."
"No?" You give her a skeptical look. She just shakes her head and leans in, pressing a few kisses to your chest.
"No", she mumbles. "I love you. Period. Now stop worrying."
You stare at her as she nuzzles and kisses your chest, slowly moving upwards. Her thoughts are somewhere else already, whereas you're still stuck. Tara, the girls at the bar, the stares Natasha gets all day long. Your worries, fears, and how easily she can dismiss them. How, when you're mad, she manages to worm her way out of just about everything.
Smooth words and soft touches are her specialty. She uses them like a tool, which can be hot, but also incredibly frustrating. You know why it's so easy for her — because she knows you'll stay. You won't leave. She claims that the same thing is true for her, but maybe she'll need to prove that.
The thought creeps in slowly, dangerously. It's nothing more than a small, fleeting idea at first, but the longer you watch her, the more drawn to it you become.
Natasha says she's yours. She says there's nothing to worry about. You'd love to know whether she actually means that.
She loves you, after all. Logically, she'd love a tiny version of you just as much.
"Hey", you mumble, eyes focused on her. She pauses, lips pressed to your jaw. "You seem distracted."
"Can't help it. I'll need a different study-buddy to be able to concentrate on anything but you."
"Oh yeah?" You glance at the clock hanging on the wall across from you. Almost 1am. "It's late, you know. We might as well leave."
She hums against your skin and looks up. "Your dorm's still empty?"
"Mhm", you say before you're able to reconsider this whole plan. "We got the whole room to ourselves."
"Well then", she says, getting up and pecking your lips, "what are we waiting for? Let's go."
The hallway is as empty as the library was. Natasha presses you against the wall, caging you in between a corner and her body, and kisses you. Hands bunch up your shirt, feel heated skin. You wrap your arms around her neck and hum into the kiss.
Her hand dips into the back pocket of your jeans. She fishes out the key to your dorm, then leads you down the hallway. One arm wrapped around your waist, she unlocks the door using her free hand.
Bodies tumble onto the mattress together. Breathy laughter, stripping of clothes, bare skin on bare skin. Natasha turns, opens the drawer of the nightstand next to you to look for condoms, but you tug her on top you again. She doesn't resist and kisses you, lips moving and messing up your makeup.
You feel her nestled inside of you, every vein and throb noticeable. She grabs and angles your thigh for deeper access, her moans mingling with yours. Lipstick marks smudged on her cheek, hickeys on your chest. The bed frame hits the wall with every thrust, muffled thuds filling the air.
Her hand finds your lower belly, pressing down on it. Natasha feels her own outline through the soft skin and groans quietly. Teeth nip at your neck, her hips meeting yours a few more times. Then, the anticipated release and the relief that comes with it.
Warmth pools deep inside of you. It drips down your thighs, staining the bedsheets, but all you manage to do is turn your head and bury your face in her neck. Your fingers brush against your stomach, and the full acceptance of what might happen starts to set in.
. . .
Weeks have passed. Late spring has turned into something resembling an early summer.
A little '+' confirms it.
You're alone when you take it. It's quite early, not even 6am, but you got woken up by someone yelling in the hallway. The test was right next to you, lying on your nightstand like a bad omen, then you finally grabbed it and got up.
Taking it wasn't hard, but checking the result is. You stare at the test in your hand, your brain too tired and sleepy to process everything. Leaning against the wall of your dorm's bathroom, you try to let reality sink in. It doesn't feel real. Not yet, at least.
Knowing it is real helps, though. You put the test aside and exhale, fingers drumming against the tiled wall behind you. Your thoughts are more of a mess than you thought they'd be.
It was a heat-of-the-moment, impulsive decision. It was also incredibly stupid. Yet you're here, eyes glued to the ceiling, and find yourself regretting nothing at all. At this point, not even the thought of her reaction scares you.
She said she loved you. All you're doing is putting that love to the test. Nothing wrong with that, right?
Bullshit. You know you've fucked up.
You meet her after class, as you agreed on earlier that morning. She seems calm, happy, completely oblivious to what secret you're (literally) carrying with you. Hands on your waist, she pecks your lips, then she grabs your backpack and slings it over her shoulder.
It's a warm afternoon, so you head to the mall. You grab a few things you need — new pajamas, some shampoo, a water bottle to replace the one you lost. Natasha tosses a pack of condoms into the shopping cart and you barely stop yourself from reacting too obviously.
On your way out, you pass a store that exclusively sells baby-related items. Strollers, onesies, highchairs. You avert your eyes and stay close to Natasha's side.
Late evening. You're back on Clint's couch, passing around pizza and trying to decide on a movie. Clint complains about Laura's last pick — Juno — which, apparently, most of you didn't like too much.
Natasha pulls your legs over her lap, lightly massaging your shin. She's only in a white tank top that leaves her shoulders and arms on full display. You'd be distracted if you weren't worrying about other things already.
"I wasn't a fan, either", she says, glancing at Clint. "But I did like what it led to."
"Right. I swear to everything that's holy, if you start something like that again-"
"Seriously, calm down." She raises her eyebrows. "Keep ranting like that and poor Laura will think you're going celibate."
He rolls his eyes and slumps into the couch, one hand swatting at her. She laughs and bats him away. When she glances at you, she notices how quiet you are, and nudges you.
"You're unusually non-hyper verbal, baby."
"I'm good", you say, stretching. "Just...bored."
You're not bored. You're far from bored. But you needed an excuse. However, Natasha takes it the wrong way, and a tiny smirk tugs at the corners of her mouth.
"Yeah?", she says, running her hand higher. First it touches your knee, then it brushes under the hem of your dress. "Bathroom's empty. Maybe we'll even make it into the bedroom. I heard Mr. Prude over there got a new mattress."
"Romanoff, I will-"
"Shush." She raises her eyebrows at him before leaning closer to you. Her breath fans your cheek, her voice is a raspy murmur. "If you want us to ditch them, just tell me. I'll get us outta here."
"I'm fine", you assure her. "Just get me a beer."
Natasha nods and turns, grabbing a can from the ice bucket they prepared. She cracks it open right as you realize you probably shouldn't drink it.
"Actually", you stammer, "I'm good. None for me. Thank you."
She raises her eyebrows, but doesn't comment on it. Shrugging, she takes a sip.
"Sure", she says. "I can get you a coke?"
"No, thanks." You shake your head and sink into the cushions, trying to keep the heat from your face. It's difficult, though, and it only gets worse when a character in whatever movie you're watching (truthfully, you aren't paying much attention) is revealed to be pregnant.
You rub your neck, throwing glances at Natasha every now and then. She's still oblivious. Then, she catches you staring, and her head tilts in silent question. You pause before getting up and dragging her along.
"What...?"
"Not in my bed!", Clint shouts.
"We're not having sex!", you yell back, slamming the door to his bedroom shut.
"We're not?"
You turn toward Natasha. "No", you say, awkwardly crossing your arms. "We're not."
"Shame", she says, smirking, and pushes her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants. She studies you for a moment and her smirk softens. "You alright?"
"I'm fine", you lie. "We need to talk, though."
Her smirk disappears entirely. She frowns, her gaze steady and attentive. Alright, you think. You're mine now. Have fun finding out about it.
"Talk?", she says, leaning against the closet. "About what, baby? Did you do something?"
"Uhm..."
"You did?" She grins faintly. "Wow. Didn't expect that to ever happen. How bad is it?"
"It's not funny", you say, plucking at the strap of your dress. "You won't be grinning like that once I tell you."
"Don't underestimate me", she teases, hands slipping out of her pockets to rest on your arms. "Anything can be funny, if you're looking at it the right way."
"Oh yeah?" You pause. "How funny is us being in this for the long haul?"
"Not very funny, honestly. I wouldn't mind, though."
"Mhm." You tilt your head. Your heart beats faster and faster, but at this point, you have to say it. "Good to know."
"It is?" Natasha hums and pulls you closer, her lips brushing against your nose. "Want to make it official, or why's that?"
"I mean, having a baby is pretty official."
The second those words leave your lips, Natasha freezes. First, she just stares at you. Her hands drop to her sides. She takes a step back, then another, her eyebrows furrowed and confusion etched into her face.
The gears in her head start turning. She tries recalling whether you've been using protection, but then her brain fails her, and she exhales sharply. Silence lingers, heavy and uncomfortable, before she finally blurts out.
"We're what?"
"I'm pregnant", you say. "Took a test. It's positive."
"You...I..." She rakes her hand through her hair, her eyes squeezed shut for a moment. Another step backwards, and her back collides with the wall. "We were careful."
"Oh, no." You watch her, growing more worried. "We weren't. Not that night after the library."
Natasha looks at you. Her brain eventually catches up.
"Oh, fuck", she curses. "Fuck. Y/N!"
"What?"
"What do you mean, 'what'?!"
"Can you calm down?" You tilt your head. "You said you're in it for the long haul, no?"
"You can't be serious!"
"Uhh, guys?"
You whip around. The door is still shut, but Clint is standing behind it.
"What?", you call, irritated.
"Look, no idea what the hell is going on in there, but if you need help..."
"No help. We're fine."
"Are we?", Natasha hisses. You look at her.
"Oh, relax", you say, rolling your eyes. "You'll live."
She lets out a panicked wheeze and scrubs her hand down her face. You're being too calm, too nonchalant, whereas she feels like she's about to have a dozen panic attacks at once. She's not one to let herself get tied down. At least, that's what she always told herself. You may have changed that belief, but old habits die hard.
"I can't have a kid now! I- I have practice, I have games!" Then, as if the thought just hit her: "This is like a teen pregnancy."
"You're in college."
"Same thing!"
"Absolutely not the same thing", you argue, stepping closer. "Look, it won't be easy, but it could be worse. I mean, you love me — now imagine how much you'll love a tinier, cuter version of me."
She shoots you a glare, her breathing still uneven and rapid. "Don't think you can get much tinier."
"Oh, fuck you."
"Absolutely not", she mutters. "Pretty sure that's what got me into this mess."
"You're saying I should've gotten railed by someone else?"
Another glare. This one shuts you up. Natasha turns, looks out the mirror, glances at the striped bedsheets and the painting on the wall. Finally, she looks at you.
"I shouldn't even ask, since you seem perfectly fine", she mutters, crossing her arms. "But what about you? You okay? I mean..."
"I'm fine", you say, more quietly now. She nods and looks away again. You step closer and cup her face, standing on your tiptoes to litter small kisses across her cheeks and forehead. With every touch, her panic softens into mild anxiety. Then, at last, her arms wrap around your waist.
You look at her. Natasha exhales sharply, like she's trying to make peace with it all. She doesn't smile, but her fingertips graze your lower belly.
"If we're doing this", she mumbles stubbornly, "I get to teach them basketball."
"Fine."
"They get a jersey. A tiny one. With my number on it."
You sigh. "Sure."
"Also, no more junk food. The baby eats what you eat."
You scoff, squishing her face. She gives you another halfhearted glare.
"I will end you", you say, squeezing again. She shakes her head and tries to pull away from your grasp. "I mean it! What's life without fries?"
"Depressing", she says, hands sliding to your front and then back to your waist. "But healthier for whatever is growing inside you."
Your expression turns deadpan. "It's a baby."
"Show me an ultrasound first."
"You know what, maybe I did make this up."
..."Excuse me?!"
"I'm kidding!"
"No", she protests. "Now I want to see a doctor's note."
You let out a long exhale and pull her closer, your face against her neck. You press a kiss to her pulse point to keep yourself from slapping her. Sometimes, you wonder whether she's annoying intentionally.
But then, she softens. Her arms wrap around you, muscles enveloping you in safety and warmth, and her lips press kisses to your hair. Her heartbeat against your ear, her scent everywhere around you, you feel yourself melt a little.
"If this is real", she says, shushing you before you can interfere, "I'll do my best, alright? I'm not good at sticking around. I know that. But you have made me stick around, and I'm sure the baby will only make me stick around longer."
"'Longer'", you mumble, voice muffled, "better mean forever in this case."
"I said what I said."
"Romanoff."
She laughs, still shaking a little, and tightens her hold on you. Her nose is buried in your hair.
"We're also finding an apartment", she murmurs. "The dorm's too small. Can't fit a crib in there."
"Obviously."
"And we're not telling the others. Not yet."
You hum, hands sliding under her top and feeling the muscles on her back. Her skin is warm and smooth, making you press closer to her. She groans softly.
"No?", you ask, drawing shapes on her lower back.
"No. Not until I don't feel like passing out just thinking about it."
You laugh, fingertips pressing into her skin. You look up at her and smile. The smile you get in return is a bit strained, but her hands come up to cup your face. You lean in and kiss her.
First, it's soft and slow. Her thumbs brush over your cheeks. A quiet hum comes from her throat.
Then, you're walking backwards. You feel the mattress against your legs. You pull away and raise your eyebrows.
"Now?"
"Cut me some slack. I need to relieve stress."
You huff, but she's got you on your back before you can say anything else. Your hands fumble with her hair, releasing it from the loose bun, and watch the red strands come free. She hums and kisses your shoulder.
Her hand dips under your dress, traveling upwards until her fingers reach your stomach. She touches it, tentatively, before fumbling with your underwear. You let out a sound of approval, head dropping onto the mattress.
"This baby better not change anything", Natasha says, bunching up your dress around your waist.
"Change what?", you ask lazily.
"This. Us." She leans down and kisses your thigh. "You know what I mean."
"I truly don't."
She palms herself through her sweatpants, her eyes shooting you an unimpressed look. "You can't be that dense. Jesus Christ, my child is going to be a moron."
You scoff and flick her shoulder, but there's a faint smirk on your face. This is good. This is safe, familiar. "Can't believe I let you knock me up."
Natasha smiles. For a split second, her fingers twitch against your lower stomach before she focuses on pulling your underwear down. As if on instinct, she reaches for the condom in the pocket of her sweatpants, but then pauses. She glances at you. A look is exchanged, and you both start laughing.
It's slow, this time. Slow and lazy, unhurried. Your earlier 'fight' scared Clint off, so he doesn't even interrupt you. Neither of you is sure what's coming next, but in that moment, it doesn't matter.
. . .
By the way Natasha is staring at the screen, you'd think she's seeing an alien.
Truthfully, it might be one. You're not sure. All you know is that the white blob does not resemble a human in the slightest.
You glance at the ob-gyn, who seems unfazed. She keeps moving the transducer over your gel-slicked stomach, making the image on the screen waver. Finally, she stops and hits a button. The image freezes.
You squint at the screen. A blob. A vaguely human-shaped blob, maybe, but still a blob.
"There's the baby."
You look at Natasha. She raises her eyebrows, seeming helpless. Where?, she mouths.
The doctor is used to this. She doesn't even need to ask you anything to zoom in and point again, but it only helps minimally.
"Oh, yeah", Natasha finally lies. "I see it."
"Yeah", you add, trying to avoid the ob-gyn's eyes. "It's cute."
The woman sees right through you. She smiles faintly and prints the picture for you, then she wipes your stomach down with a few paper towels. "It's fine if you don't see it", she says, throwing the towels away. "Most parents don't. Babies do look a bit deformed in the beginning."
"But it's healthy?", Natasha asks.
"Completely healthy. Don't you worry." She smiles and tugs off her nitrile gloves. "I'll be back in a minute, alright? Feel free to look at the image and play 'Where's Waldo.'"
You hum noncommittally and glance at the ultrasound picture. Still a blob.
Natasha's fingers twitch against her knee and she shifts. All of this is becoming way too real way too soon.
"It's gonna come out looking like a real person, right?", she mumbles, frowning.
"You're kidding."
"Sorry, but it looks like something you'd see under a microscope."
You grab the first thing you find — your cardigan, bunched into a ball — and toss it at her. She catches it and spreads it out over your legs.
"Nice one", she says drily. "Come on, you can't tell me that looks like a baby."
You roll your eyes and glance at the picture again, fingers brushing over the glossy surface. She's right. It doesn't even resemble something supposedly alive, let alone a human being. But it is a human being, according to the doctor, and that's all you need to know.
"Maybe it's taking its time getting cute."
"That'll take a while."
"I hate you."
. . .
Nobody knows. Not yet. But hiding it is getting harder with every day.
Basketballs bounce, shoes squeak, the air smells of sweat and gym air. You watch the ball be thrown in your direction and you catch it, then toss it aside.
It was a flirty text that led you here. You were in bed, drunk on sunlight and half-asleep, when your phone buzzed. The picture you got was one you couldn't complain about — Natasha, in front of a mirror, only wearing boxers (just slightly tugged down to reveal an additional sliver of skin) and a bra. A picture taken in the locker room of the gym, right before practice. It was enough to get you semi-conscious and shoo you out of bed.
Practice is over now, so you walk onto the court. Natasha wraps her arms around you and kisses your cheek, her hand sneakily moving to your stomach — still pretty flat, but your shirt hides the tiniest of bumps.
"You did good", you say, smiling, and cup her face. The heat is making the ends of her hair curl, and strands of baby hair stick to her sweaty temples. You scrunch your nose, brushing a damp strand of hair off her forehead. "Really good. But that last shot was...meh."
"Criticizing me?" She scoffs and presses her lips to yours. Around you, her teammates talk and grab their stuff before heading to the showers. "A little more support would be appreciated, you know."
"This is me supporting you", you point out, walking her out of the gym. "What else do you want me to do, huh? Cheer? Fetch some water?"
"I wouldn't say no to seeing you in a cheerleading uniform."
You scoff, your hands wrapping around her lower arm as you lead her across campus. Only a handful of students passes you — it's summer, and most people are either visiting their families or vacationing. Not you and Natasha, though. You're spending your free time looking for an apartment.
"You'll have to wait around 6 more months for that." You pause, quickly re-calculating. "I think. My brain isn't working the way it's supposed to."
"Nothing new", she mumbles, shooting you a smirk when you jab your elbow into her side. "Kidding, kidding."
She squeezes your waist and leads you to the campus parking lot. She's still in her jersey, all sweaty from practice, but you have an appointment for an apartment viewing soon. Actually, you've got a whole list of apartments you want to look at. Natasha is taking apartment-hunting very seriously.
Too seriously, you're starting to think. Suddenly, not only the size of the apartment and the neighborhood where it's located are important, but also a bunch of things that are, in your humble opinion, simply not relevant.
"This next one has a basketball court nearby", she says, adjusting your seatbelt for you. "Good for early practice, you know. For the kid."
You raise your eyebrows. "For our fetus?"
"Hey, never too early."
You keep your thoughts on that matter to yourself.
At the apartment, the landlord shows you around. Kitchen, living room, bathroom, two bedrooms. Everything seems to be going fine. Despite still being in a sweaty jersey, Natasha manages to make a good impression. Then, he dares ask about your current family situation. That's when the usually so composed woman starts stuttering.
"Well, engaged. I guess. I mean, not yet, but in a way. Uh...fuck. Y/N?"
You glance at her, frowning. "Engaged? Where's the ring, then?"
Natasha looks at you. The panic in her eyes almost makes you laugh.
"Are you engaged or are you not?", the landlord asks. "It's fine if you aren't. Not that important, really."
"We're not", you say. "One day, though. Or so I hope."
"Yeah, yeah", Natasha says, still stressing. "One day."
A few more apartments you look at are enough to wear you out. You collapse onto the bed in your dorm, face buried in your pillow and one leg hanging over the edge. Natasha sits next to you and squeezes your butt, smiling.
"Hey", you mutter, voice muffled.
"Hey yourself", she teases. Her hand travels lower, tickling the inner part of your thighs. You squirm and she laughs quietly. "Tired?"
"Exhausted."
"Can't blame you for that, baby." She leans in, pressing a kiss to the sliver of skin between your shirt and shorts. "Want me to order dinner?"
You glance at her, eyes lighting up with hope. "Pizza?"
"We said no junk food."
"You said no junk food."
"Think about the baby", she says, tugging at your shorts. "Mhm, you could take these off."
You snort and kick at her blindly. You manage to hit her in the ribs. She lets out a grunt and pinches your butt cheek. You roll over, one cheek reddened from the pillow, and give her a challenging look. "Ouch! Come on, I'm growing your kid. Least you can do is get me a pizza."
Her fingers trail up your spine. Before you know it, she's lying behind you with her front against your back. Pressed together from head to toe, not an inch of space separates you.
She kisses the back of your neck. Her hand rests on your stomach, rubbing gently. "You're right", she mumbles. "You've trapped me. Pizza it is."
The words trapped me make your cheeks go warm. You snuggle into her and ignore the guilt and satisfaction warring inside you. This is something she'll find out about one day. Maybe. But right now, you're too happy in your little bubble to make it pop.
"I want garlic bread, too."
"So demanding." She hums and dips her hand into the front of your shorts. Her bulge presses against your butt. "How hungry are you, exactly?"
You whine softly. With the pregnancy making your body overly sensitive, every little touch sends sparks of want through you. Heat pools in your lower belly and you shift, grinding against her. She hums, her fingers tugging at the waistband of your shorts. White lace is revealed, and she moans.
"Really hungry, actually", you mumble, squirming. "But I'm willing to wait."
"Thank god", she says, peppering your shoulder with kisses. "I was considering jerking off in the bathroom otherwise."
"Gross."
"Love you too."
Natasha somehow manages to place the order. It's difficult, though, especially when you roll over. One leg hooked over her waist, she whines and rocks her hips against yours pathetically. You laugh and then moan, feeling her hard-on nudge all the right spots.
You bury your face in her neck and place kisses until her entire neck is covered in lipstick. Finally, she tosses her phone aside. You both ignore the sound of your roommate's lamp crashing to the ground and instead focus on each other.
. . .
Natasha was never one to get easily distracted by an audience.
Now that there's a tiny viewer in the stands, though, that has changed.
Niko is barely old enough to stay awake for longer than two hours, but that doesn't mean he can't go to his mom's basketball games and watch. One hand wrapped around your finger and earmuffs that look way too big on him, he's undeniably the star of the stands.
You thought he'd be a tiny you. As it turned out, Natasha's genes are a little too stubborn for that. His eyes are still baby-blue, but the redness of his hair is unmistakable. Paired with the matching jersey he's sporting, you feel like you're carrying a much smaller version of her around.
You ignore the looks and the delighted whispers. As always, your focus is on Natasha. That's something that, even now that you have a baby, never changed. It's her game. She's the important one here.
You watch her dribble the ball as she scans the court. Focus unwavering, she dodges a defender and leaves them stunned. With one leap, she soars into the air and lets the ball swish through the net.
Not too long ago, you would've jumped up and cheered. But you don't want to jostle the baby too much, so you settle for clapping awkwardly while holding Niko in one arm.
Natasha turns, eyes glistening, and spots you in the crowd. You take Niko's hand and make him wave at her. Her smile only widens.
Minutes later, the buzzer sounds. Another victory.
Natasha comes rushing to the stands before anyone can even attempt to congratulate her. She helps you over the barricade, then takes off her jersey to hand it to you. The piece of fabric is swapped for the baby, who clings to her like a little koala.
"Did you see that?", she asks, breathless, and pats Niko's back when he starts fussing. "What a shot!"
You nod, laughing, and kiss her cheek. Sweaty as always. And, also as always, you don't find it in you to care.
"I did", you say, putting on her jersey. "Much better than in that first halftime, babe."
"Yeah?" She looks at the baby. He's still fussy, one hand grasping at her shoulder. "What about you, bud? You like it?"
"Didn't even cry once", you say, brushing your fingers over his tuft of hair. "Which is a miracle."
"It definitely is."
You linger by the barricade, talking and smiling, exchanging quick kisses. Natasha's teammates approach you to ask whether you want to go out and celebrate, but you decline. They leave, buzzing with joy, only for a few girls to introduce themselves to Natasha.
This time, all they get is a brief smile. She kisses Niko's cheek and leads you away from the court, away from the crowds, away from the noise.
"Not gonna stay and talk a bit more?", you tease. It's surprising, how much has changed. Her habit to flirt excessively seems to be gone. It's something you're thankful for — having to fight her about that was tiring.
Natasha shakes her head. You walk through a hallway, sneakers squeaking on the floor, and turn a corner. The locker room is empty when you enter it.
"Nah", she says, sitting down on a bench. She gently takes the earmuffs off Niko's head and watches him yawn. "I'd rather get home. He looks tired."
"He is, yeah."
"You're tired, too", she points out. You tilt your head and smile faintly.
"And here I thought I applied enough makeup."
"Don't worry, you're gorgeous. But you also look tired."
No point in denying that. Niko is merely four months old, and he's far from sleeping through the night. In addition, Natasha is unable to get up most nights, since practice and the games are demanding. She tries her best to juggle college, basketball, and an infant.
"Fine", you admit. "He kept me up all night. But I'm okay, I swear."
"You're sure?"
"Positive. I'd look more put together, but you try applying lipstick while holding a squirming baby."
Natasha laughs and reaches up to take your hand. You're on her lap before you know it, nestled against Niko. She kisses your shoulder.
"You look put together", she assures you. "Tired, but put together."
You smile and lean into her. Her arm is strong around your waist, biceps swollen and veins popping, and you turn your head to kiss her cheek.
"All for you", you mumble. Then, you tap Niko's nose. "This' all for you, too."
"Oh, I know." Natasha nuzzles her face against your shoulder. "Lucky me. Lucky you. We're all lucky."
Lucky you, indeed.
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natashashill · 4 months ago
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been like this
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pairing: natasha romanoff x reader
word count: 2.3k
warnings: 18+ mean, possessive, and possibly toxic nat in the beginning, mean sex (?), dacryphilia, panties as a gag?, spankings, verbal degradation, humiliation, pussy & ass spankings, fingering, strap sucking, strap fucking, hair pulling, choking, edging AND overstimulation, praise, slight breeding kink, & aftercare!! lmk if i forgot anything
a/n: this might have been a lil self indulgent but i also wrote this at 2am so bear w me pls <3
summary: you & natasha are exs, you just broke it off and she doesn’t like that, you both end up at the same bar
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You found yourself at a local bar for the night, desperately needing to forget yourself and maybe her too.
You had finally called Natasha out on her bullshit after putting up with all the ghosting and flaking she had pulled on you. You cut things off with her and you’re hoping it stays permanent this time. You immediately make your way to the bar, and order a signature cocktail. You take a few sips while scanning around the bar, observing the few couples that came while the night was still early.
You were just about done scanning the room when you spotted her in the back, sitting in a booth by herself. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring at her. Her flaming red hair was tied back while she wore a casual suit, and your gut tells you she came here straight after work. She sat staring at her drink, brows furrowed in tension with the slightest dark circles under her eyes, and your stomach dropped at the thought that you might have been the cause. You were pissed at her, but you never wanted to see her hurting.
Apparently, you had been staring at her for too long because when you snapped out of your thoughts, you caught her looking at you with a slight smirk on her face. She sent you a small wink before beckoning you over with a wag of her finger, and your feet started moving towards her on autopilot. You sat across from her, staring blankly waiting for Natasha to say something.
“Did you come here looking for a new girl tonight?”
Your jaw dropped at the bluntness of her question, “Jesus Nat. I- I don’t know. I wanted to have fun, if I found a girl who would treat me right, maybe I would go home with her. I didn’t plan anything.”
She scoffs at that.
“Well your dress certainly did. Your tits are practically spilling out of your chest. Do you even know how many people have been staring?”
You frown and attempt to cover your chest slightly, feeling self-conscious at the weight of her words.
“What? All of a sudden you’re shy, you had quite a lot to say to me the other night baby. What girl did you think was going to treat you right, because I know how you like to be treated. You say you want a sweet girl, but not really. You crave the way I make you feel when I’m rough don’t you, you love the way I treat you-”
You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your mouth, despite your best efforts to stay unbothered by her. You couldn’t help but let her words affect you just the way she wanted them to. You fell right into her trap, and she has you right where she wants you.
“What baby? You want me to be soft on you, hmm? Spend all my time on you and forget about everything else I have to do? Are you that much of a needy slut baby? Knowing you, your panties are probably soaked by now, am I right?”
You weakly shook your head no, but you knew she was right, and so did she. She grabs your hand and yanks you up out of your seat.
“Come on baby, follow me. Let’s go see how much of a desperate slut you really are.”
“Nat, where are you going?”
“We are going to take a trip to the bathroom. If you didn’t just lie to me and you really aren’t wet, well then I’ll let you go. If I catch you lying, you’re in for a rough punishment before I take you home.”
You gulp and dumbly follow her, hoping she’ll go easy on you. But you know she never does.
The moment the door shuts behind you, she has you pressed up against. Her hands roughly push up your dress against your hips before pushing your lace panties to the side. She doesn’t even comment on the wetness before slapping your pussy twice, hard.
You let out a moan at that, and she guides you out of your soaked panties before stuffing it in your mouth. You let out another moan at the taste of you on your panties but it’s barely audible. Your cunt is clenching around nothing and the humiliation has some tears springing to your eyes and an attempt to close your thighs.
She quickly turns you around before spreading your legs apart and slotting her leg in the middle, giving you the perfect opportunity to grind against her with your hands on the door.
“I can’t even look at you right now. Go ahead slut, hump my thigh like the pathetic whore you are. If you even think about coming, I’m bending you over the sink and spanking your ass raw.”
You’re only getting wetter at her words, desperately humping her legs, hoping to get enough friction to ease your clit’s throbbing. Your legs start to shake, and she immediately takes a step back away from you. You’re left dripping while facing the door, attempting to catch your breath while fighting off tears.
You don’t get a break before she smacks your ass hard, and you let out a wanton moan at that. She smacks your other cheek harder at that, and you get the message to keep quiet. She starts spanking you in rapid succession, muttering about being her dirty little girl who doesn’t know any better. You can’t fight off the tears and by the end of her assault, your tears are quickly streaming down your face. Your legs are shaking with need and you can’t avoid the way your clit is throbbing.
You know she knows how sensitive you are by the way she presses a delicate kiss to your bruised cheek before gently turning you around and helping you redress.
“You took your punishment so well for me baby, let me take you home tonight.”
You nod, desperate for any attention she’ll give you right now. You let her guide you out of the bar and into the passenger seat of the car. She has her hand on your thigh the entire ride, and you just stare out the window, trying to process everything. You’re in her bedroom before you know it, naked and kneeling by the foot of her bed. You can see the wet patch on her suit pants that you left on her, and the sight has you clenching around nothing again.
She disappears into her closet, and your stomach drops at the realization of what’s in store for you. She comes back out, and you see a distinct bulge at her groin, and you lick your lips at the sight. All it takes is one look at her and you crawl your way towards her before stopping at her feet, hands eagerly making their way to unzip her pants and freeing her cock.
You waste no time before attempting to take her. Your lips wrap around her fake cock and you start bobbing your head, slowly taking more and more of her. She gave you two minutes to adjust before she gripped your hair and started using it to push you further down her cock. She started thrusting up until you and you let yourself be used by her. Her dick kept hitting the back of your throat, tears streaming down your cheeks with your makeup thoroughly ruined, and Natasha was obsessed. This is how she wanted you to be.
The sight of you mixed with how close she was made her thrust faster, ignoring how you gagged before she finally reached her peak. She stilled as she felt the aftershocks take over before gently pulling out.
She lightly cupped your face, letting you nuzzle against her hand while her thumb stroked your cheekbone, wiping some stray tears.
“What’s your color baby?”
“Green daddy”
“Alright then, get on the bed just how I like you. Daddy’s gonna fuck any thoughts you have about leaving out of your head. You’re mine, I don’t share.”
You quickly scurried on to the middle of the bed before positioning yourself onto all fours. She let you stay like that for a few seconds before climbing onto the bed and positioning herself behind you. She had a clear view of your dripping pussy, and she couldn’t resist running her fingers through your folds. She collected some of your wetness before bringing her finger to your mouth, slightly sucking on it before bringing it back to your cunt.
She quickly inserted her finger inside you before rapidly fucking you with it. She slipped it a second finger and enjoyed the way your shaky breaths filled up the entire bedroom. She let you get close to your peak, thighs shaking around her fingers before pulling away. She quickly hushed your whines, bringing her cock to drag along your folds and gently brushing against your throbbing clit.
She started with a harsh, unforgiving pace as she fucked you, and you knew just how mad she was. You couldn’t keep up with her thrusts, letting your arms give out and letting her use you as she pleased, your moans filling the room. She grabbed your hair and harshly yanked it back, allowing you to arch your back and allowing her to go deeper into you.
One arm snaked around to your throat before squeezing, while the other stayed in your hair. You could barely muster any thoughts in your head, only her name shining through the fog starting to form in your brain. Your mouth hung open and eyes shut while she pounded into you with no mercy.
“Look at you, how easy you’re taking me. You’re my precious little slut, aren’t you? You’re built for me baby, you fit so perfectly around my cock.”
You lightly nod, barely paying attention to what she says but hoping it pleases her.
“You’d say anything I tell you to right now, wouldn’t you?”
You let out a moan at that, and she lets your lack of an answer slide, her hand squeezing tighter around your throat.
“You’re getting close aren’t you. Well you’re gonna have to beg me to come sweetheart. You’re not off the hook just yet. Beg daddy to let you come, beg daddy to make you come. Oh, and promise me that you’re coming back to stay with me. You’re going to be my little slut, my precious girl that I come home to after work. Mine.”
“ ‘M yours daddy. I’m your girl to use, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me but please let me come. I’ll be your perfect toy to use.”
She lets out a moan at that before thrusting harder into you.
“Yeah? You’re gonna be my good girl. My precious slut who I get to fuck. It’s my pussy, isn't it, belongs to me. I get to decide whether you come, and it’s mine to touch and play with. Fuck, I’d want to breed this sweet cunt of yours. Watch all my cum drip out of your needy pussy before fucking it back into you. Letting you be my breeding dump while I constantly pump my cum into you.”
You scream out her name while clenching around her strap and she knows you're close. She squeezes your throat just a bit tighter while also going to rub circles against your clit. You let out a strangled scream at that and she doesn’t let up until you’re cumming around her. She doesn’t stop while you fall apart around her, she continues thrusting, building you back up towards your second orgasm.
“Give me one more baby, give me one more and you’re done. You’re such a good girl for me, my sweet girl. Fall apart for me baby.”
Her words give you what you need before you’re coming again. She gently stops thrusting while rubbing your back gently, giving you the space to adjust to the sudden change. She lets your breathing return to normal before removing her strap from inside you, and throwing it towards the bathroom. She crawls up towards the head of the bed, laying down against one of the pillows, before bringing you against her clothed chest. You let your tears run while you absent mindedly play with her shirt’s buttons. She presses gentle kisses to your head while murmuring just how good of a girl you are for her. She strokes your arm soothingly, waiting for you to recover.
“I’m sorry,” you wail out, unable to control yourself. “I just wanted you to notice me. You never spent time with me anymore and I missed you. I never meant to hurt you, I’m sorry.”
“Oh my love, I’m so sorry sweetheart. I never meant to hurt you. I got so wrapped up in work, I didn’t realize I was neglecting you. I’ll do better, I promise.” At that you let out a small smile and nuzzle against her as you let yourself drift off. She gently shakes you off of her before getting both of you out of bed.
“Come on baby, let’s get you cleaned up. Let’s get in the shower and I promise we’ll fall asleep right after, baby.”
You reluctantly get into the shower, while Natasha cleans the strap and pulls out fresh sheets for the bed. She strips out of her work clothes, before changing into some boxers and a robe while grabbing a fresh pair of underwear you left at her house a while back. When she sees you exiting the bathroom, she hands you the underwear along with one of Natasha’s old shirts.
She guides you back into bed before bringing you against her chest, tucked in cozily under the blankets. You sigh happily against her, quickly falling asleep after being worn out from the night. Natasha stays awake for a bit longer, watching how peaceful you looked with her and vowing to never let you leave her again.
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notes: i hope this was enjoyable to read <3 it just came to me in the middle of the night and i just had to write & post it
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notanactressyayy · 4 months ago
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·˚ ₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 | natasha romanoff
. ݁₊ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 . it was a new era of her life. she no longer had missions or a team to rely on — only endless free time, and a bunch of thoughts that weren't really helpful. Natasha for once, had time to pick up her phone — something trivial. through the dating app Tony had dared her to install months ago, she meets somebody. finally, her heart was at peace.
. ݁₊ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 . smut! i am not responsible for your content consumption! — a TW for the photo editing thing. this may be a sensitive topic for some. lonely Nat, insecure Nat — she edits a picture of her body, swearing, oral (N receiving). lots of fluffy stuff, too. set after Civil War.
. ݁₊ 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. this ended up SO MUCH longer than i initially planned. i put a lot of dedication into this so, yeah 🥹
thanks to my lovely @sunswish who helped me with the plot and the proofreading! ♡
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The trailer was quiet, except for the faint rustle of the wind through the trees outside. Natasha sat at the small wooden table by the window, her knees pulled up to her chest, a steaming mug of tea resting untouched beside her. The Norwegian countryside was beautiful, vast and unassuming, but the stillness pressed down on her.
Her phone laid on the table, the screen dark. She stared at it for a moment, the faintest flicker of hesitation crossing her face. She’d never been good at this — being still, alone with her thoughts. For years, her life had been one constant motion: missions, battles, briefings, always moving forward because stopping meant thinking, having time to ponder about her life.
Her jaw tightened, and she looked out the window instead. What was she even doing?
She’d fought tooth and nail to become an Avenger, to carve out some sliver of redemption for herself, some sense of belonging in a world she’d spent so long working against. She’d believed in their cause, in their family, even when it meant trusting people with pieces of herself she hadn’t known she was capable of sharing.
And now? The Avengers were gone. Torn apart, like everything else she’d tried to build. She was a fugitive, hunted by the very government she’d once fought to protect. Her friends — her family — were scattered, some in hiding, some in prison. She was left with nothing but her name and a handful of private contractors who worked in the shadows. People she barely trusted, people who barely trusted her. Yet she still needed them for supplies, false documents, and a roof above her head. Funny, she thought.
She reached for her mug, her fingers curling around the warmth of the ceramic, though she didn’t take a sip. She had no mission now, no team to fall back on. No one to call when the silence became too much. She wasn’t sure if she missed the fights or the people more.
A faint vibration against the table snapped her from her thoughts. Her phone. She glanced down, the screen lighting up with a notification — some random email, one of these ‘no reply’ ones, nothing important. She hesitated, then picked it up anyway, her thumb hovering over the screen.
Scrolling through her phone felt… strange. Almost trivial. She opened Instagram, an app she barely used but kept around for the rare moments she wanted to feel tethered to something normal. The feed was full of snapshots of a life she didn’t recognize—vacations, dinners, smiling faces, people celebrating milestones she wouldn't ever have.
And right then, the name ‘Avengers’ didn’t make sense for her anymore. She was supposed to have this. This life where she would have a fun moment and think ‘oh, yes! i should absolutely shoot a pic and add to my stories’. After all, Natasha was just an unavenged girl, woman, human. A picture of a mother celebrating her daughter's birthday wasn't just one more picture showing on her feed. It was her dream.
She scrolled absently, her mind only half-engaged as her thumb flicked upward. Part of her wanted to throw the phone across the room and forget she’d ever picked it up. But another part—the quieter, lonelier part—held onto it like a lifeline.
She then receives another automatic notification. How has your love life been going? It took her a moment to remember what it was, and when she did, she let out a dry, humorless laugh.
The dating app.
She’d installed it months ago as a joke, because Tony had bet her she wouldn’t. She could still hear his voice in her head, teasing her. “Come on, Nat. You might actually meet someone who doesn’t want to kill you for once.” At the time, it was funny. She’d downloaded it, filled out the bare minimum of the profile, like: cat lover, captivating green eyes & martial arts enjoyer and promptly forgotten about it.
Her finger hovered over the icon now, her heart giving a strange, uncomfortable twirl in her chest. The idea of opening it felt absurd. What would she even say to someone? What would they see in her, beyond the scars and the lies and the mess she’d made of her life? That was made of her life? Could she even try and have a relationship? When throughout her life, she didn’t ever have a conversation about feelings? Clint was the closest attempt to that — he knew her past, more than the others, at least. So she spoke to him about things like that before. But he had a wife, kids, a home.
Natasha damned her heart every single day — for wanting a connection with somebody — for wanting to be somebody's, and for not being content with what she already has.
What does she even have?
She sighs deeply as she gathers a little bit of courage (that usually wasn't necessary when one was to open a simple app in their phone) and presses her thumb against the icon. Her eyebrows show a little frown as she realizes the app wasn’t open — she had held the icon for too long, making the options add to home and uninstall pop up on her screen.
“Goddammit,” she mutters to herself. Maybe she had done it on purpose. She considers choosing the second option. But her thumb, once again, hovers over the uninstall word for too long.
She was just confused. In conflict, with something so small. Although, she was braver than that.
“Let's just get over with this.” She mutters to herself as she finally opens the app — SparkMatch, she reads the name, for the first time. She lets out a scoff. Though the feeling of unease didn't take long before coming back to her. The about me section was completely empty, in exception for-
“Captivating green eyes. Cat lover.” she reads the words she had typed, aloud, cursing herself. It was what she had written in order to simply make the Iron Man laugh and leave her alone. “Great job, Romanoff. Truly irresistible.”
Scrolling down her profile, which was named only @Natasha1203— having in mind that her surname wasn't one to be openly shared — she finds the photos she had chosen, months ago, without really thinking much. Her gallery didn't have much cheering stuff. They were as nondescript as possible: a picture of a skyline she had taken while on the run. Her in sunglasses, her most common accessory. And.. a single closeup of her face, that felt too honest for comfort. She doesn’t know why she left that one there, for the world to stare at. Maybe it was the one moment where she caught herself looking like.. well, herself. If somebody squinted their eyes, they could see a small scar on her shoulder. She hoped people wouldn’t do that.
Summing up: the profile was a mess. And that was a perfect reflection of the person behind it. She doesn't make a move to edit any information — before remembering an important detail. It would be nice to change her profile's name, in case anybody (especially Tony, that was aware of this) tried to look for her.
@Fanny_Longbottom1203 was the new username.
Perfect. She does a little ‘tsk’ with her tongue, a little habit she developed when finishing a task.
Flirting was easy. She had been trained for it — trained in the art of seduction, molded into a woman that could slip into any persona, say the right words, touch in the right way, just to get what she needed. But this wasn't one of the spy programs she had access to in SHIELD. This wasn't about manipulation or information extracting. This was trivial. Normal.
Natasha browses through the app for a while. She stops in profiles of strangers that smiled back at her through their pictures — men, women, who were teachers, doctors, engineers. People with families and hobbies. Who had the chance to live a life without looking over their shoulders every second. Yet something about this.. gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling. It was faint, but it was there. Knowing all these little details about random folks, she could find small pieces of herself in each one: some did ballet when they were little. Some had a scar due a kitchen accident. Some did karate simply for liking the sport. Some liked peanut butter sandwiches. She quietly giggles, her previous nervousness replaced by a silly feeling.
Maybe it wasn't that bad. It is not like a random person was gonna crawl out of her phone screen and have a date right then, anyway. And there was another ‘problem’. This app was still american, while she was in a whole new timezone.
What a relief.
She shifts on the small couch of her trailer, now laying down on it, allowing herself to get entertained with SparkMatch. She even found some profiles that were probably deactivated by now, seeing that they were created, like, a decade ago. She purposefully clicked on the small heart on them, meaning Match. She softly laughs.
But the sound is interrupted by herself as she finds a specific user.
It was a minimalist profile — elegant, even. It didn't say much about the person's personality: it said enough. It wasn't extravagant or absurd like some she had found. And it certainly wasn't a mess, like hers.
Y/n. 34. Not good at small talk, but I'm a good listener. A photographer, currently traveling around. Just someone who thinks the world is too big of a place to stay idle for too long. Currently: Norway
It was truly something else, compared to the live, laugh, love bios or the gym rats flashing their abs.
Her curiosity picks up, and soon enough, she sees a picture of them in Oslo.
And it was posted just three days ago.
So they were active in this app. But this wasn't what her mind grasped. Traveling in Norway. International trips usually didn’t last just three days, right? So that meant they were still there. There with her.
Out of all countries in the world, they were there?
She reads the bio again. Currently: Norway.
A strange shiver runs down her spine the more she thinks about the situation she found herself into. She bites on her lip, her stomach twirling almost painfully, like a school girl texting her crush. She was the Black Widow, for God's sake. She didn't get to go on silly dates and receive flowers.
No. This was too much. Without closing the app, she locks the screen of her phone again and drops it to the couch, quickly standing up and running her fingers through her hair. There were many reasons why this wouldn't work, especially when she was a fugitive and could get recognized, even in a small cafe.
Heading to the tiny kitchen, she opens a drawer on the countertop and grabs a bottle opener, opening the fridge and taking a beer out. She removes the cap and downs the bottle with no second thought, the bitter liquid ripping down her throat. Deeply breathing, shakily. Amidst the vast emptiness, not only of the place she was currently settled, but of her heart too, she fought back tears. The glass of the bottle clicks against the marble countertop as she places it down, her hands tightly gripping onto the edge of the furniture, holding herself up. It was a hard decision to make, whether to take this opportunity and keep it safe in her heart, or to let it go and pretend it never happened in the first place.
But she wouldn't be able to rest tonight knowing she simply did nothing about that special person the app charitably put into her hands. So, on this night, the unshatterable Natasha Romanoff did something she never thought she would. Before heading to bed, she picked up her phone again. Gladly, she didn't have to look for the profile once more. She simply had to press onto the small heart next to their picture. And she did.
The screen flashed: It's a match!
Natasha blinked in surprise, almost dumbfounded by this message. But this was meant to happen, right? Now, she could only hope that she would receive something in return by the morning.
It felt.. good. She had something to expect, a little flicker of hope that followed her even in her dreams, that made her feel better than she could ever imagine.
And this was just the start.
♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧
When the next day came, all of Natasha’s thoughts regarding the whirlwind of recent events were replaced by a single thing: that person. That New Yorker who was currently in Norway to take photos for a personal album. She initially wondered if she could really lower her guard like this and not think too much about Secretary Ross — who was still after her — but it was not like she would leave this trailer anytime soon. Thus, she needed a distraction, something to keep her brain entertained until this whole mess was over.
Talking to them was a relief — a solace she had been needing and didn't even know until now.
Talking to you.
Right away you had seen the match notification of SparkMatch, even if it was already one in the morning when it arrived. You sent this woman- Fanny? a message, and waited, but no response came until the next day. You wondered if she had impulsively pressed the match button and ran away from her phone out of nervousness. You actually imagined it, seeing the one picture of herself she published on her feed. Her profile was.. vague, to say at least, but she was incredibly beautiful, and indeed had captivating green eyes, like she boldly described herself. It made you smirk to your phone’s screen. No, genuinely smile.
It was pretty much clear that she wasn't a dating app person. And neither were you! You just had a better sense of organization than her, that's for sure. What if you two could really be a match?
As the day went on, you two engaged into a conversation that was surprisingly enjoyable for both sides. Opening the inbox chat, that could be found:
@Y/n: Good night. Is your real name Fanny Longbottom?
— eight hours later —
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Good morning! The first thing you ask a woman is if her name is real?
@Y/n: It just doesn't suit a beautiful redhead with captivating green eyes.
Natasha groaned to herself at this, laughing. The humor in the text was evident, and she loved that.
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Right. It was a joke. You can call me.. Nat.
It was a glimpse of her name. It could be Natasha, Natalia, Natalie.. or all of these.
@Y/n: Nat.. that is better. Yet still very vague. Like your whole profile.
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Perhaps my whole account here is a joke.
@Y/n: And we still matched. And sincerely, I'm intrigued. Intrigued and curious.
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That’s a dangerous thing to tell someone you just met.
@Y/n: Personally, I wouldn’t call a cat lover dangerous.
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Will you stop mocking me for my irresistible biography or what?
It was an easy playful banter. It felt light. Not like these conversations where you had to directly ask the other person to be nice to you.
@Y/n: You just don’t strike me as someone who spends much time on dating apps. What brings you here?
With that, she debated whether to mention Tony’s dare or not. She could talk about it, but not for now. If she’s sincere, about how much she needed not to be alone anymore, this could lead to something good, more profound.
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: I’m just trying something new. What about you? Norway seems kinda away from the rest of the world.
@Y/n: It is. But sometimes you have to go far to find what you’re looking for.
Natasha leaned back, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She didn’t know who you were, or why your words seemed to settle something in her chest, but for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, she felt.. excited.
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Have you found it?
@Y/n: Not yet. But I have a feeling I might be in the right place.
She stared at the message, her mind turning over the possibilities. She was already glad that this hadn’t started with “hey, you’re cute” or “what’s up?”, and now? It felt like she was in a dream — to find someone that shared her ideals, or that at least, thankfully, sounded like a mature adult.
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Maybe Norway isn’t so bad after all.
@Y/n: So you’re also here!
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That seems like an excited message to me.
Gladly, her phone’s camera wasn’t capturing anything. Because she swore her eyes were sparkling right now.
@Y/n: Of course I’m excited, Nat. Now I have something else to think about other than shooting pictures.
Natasha stared at the reply, her fingers lightly brushing against the edge of her phone. There was something disarming about your words — direct, yet not forceful. And the way you used her name so casually made her blush.
She hesitated, before typing back.
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: What do you shoot? Other than clever replies, apparently.
@Y/n: Street photography. Portraits, mostly. But I’ve been known to dabble in the occasional cat picture. You know, for balance.
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Balance is important. What would the world do with no cat pictures?
@Y/n: I shudder to imagine it. Speaking of balance.. would you let me buy you coffee sometime? Or would that be too much?
Her breath caught. You really didn’t waste time, did you? she thought. For a moment, her walls threatened to go up again — she could almost hear that little voice in the back of her mind telling her that this was not a good idea, that it wasn’t smart, safe.
But she silenced it. It was too soon, for sure — but she couldn’t knock it till she tried it.
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That depends. Are you going back to New York in the next few days?
@Y/n: I don’t have a specific date to go back. So I guess it depends on how things go.
Yeah. Now she felt a little pressured. It was a dilemma, she could be the reason you stayed or left. Adrenaline coursed through her veins — that was determination.
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: It’s not like I am going anywhere anytime soon, either. But.. I like to play hard to get sometimes. How about we wait and see how things go?
@Y/n: Hard to get, huh? Well, patience is a virtue. Let me know when you feel like stopping the chase.
And you two went on like that — talking about your favorite portraits, sending her some — receiving her compliments, which sounded way too genuine for your liking. It was casual, like talking to a friend. Natasha didn't take long to start feeling comfortable with texting you. If she weren't a spy without a private number, she would've asked for your WhatsApp. Or maybe she was just exaggerating. The thing was: she didn't have to wonder about how to answer you. Your way of having conversations was so nice that she didn't feel forced to text back.
And with these new discoveries, Natasha felt like she could be in this new country without feeling too out of place. She feared that in the end this would be just one momentary experience, one of the many personas she played.
But shockingly, for once, she didn’t feel like paying attention to her overthinking.
♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧
Weeks had passed, and the nightly silence Natasha once dreaded was now filled with something else. Her phone screen, once cold and impersonal, had become an opening to something warmer. A new phase of her life. She never thought she would be so close to a mobile device before. Supersecret agents couldn’t have personal ones other than burner phones, it was risky — they could get hacked, tracked, recognized. She didn’t have a number, or an email with her name, bank accounts, or any sort of thing that could link her to the authorities. She only had TikTok, Instagram, some games like Candy Crush Saga and her newest best friend, SparkMatch.
Everyday, without fail, your conversations flowed effortlessly. You spoke about everything: Norway’s quiet beauty, silly anecdotes, and even the mundane things that somehow became meaningful when shared. She made herself get used to the habit of not thinking much. This wasn’t part of the plan — or rather, there was no plan. This constant connection grounded her in a way she didn’t fully understand.
Having someone willingly care about her, without having to ask, beg for it — she couldn’t understand.
This evening, after eating her exquisite caviar and drinking champagne, she settled onto her couch with a blanket draped over her shoulders. Her phone buzzed, and her mind involuntarily anticipated your witty reply, or question about her day.
Instead, a picture greeted her.
It wasn’t posed or staged — just you. mid-laugh, with a goofy expression that instantly betrayed your attempt to be serious. Your hair was a bit disheveled, and the lighting was off, but the image carried a kind of authenticity Natasha couldn’t let pass. The caption reads:
@Y/n: I don’t usually do selfies, but I figured you deserved to see what you’ve been stuck talking to all this time.
It was caring. You thought about her often enough to send a picture of yourself, doing absolutely nothing important.
Natasha softly blinked at the picture, completely still as her brain worked to process what she was looking at. It wasn’t just a picture. There was trust behind it, a hidden message. She couldn’t tell where you were getting at with this action — actually, she could. She just tried to convince herself of the contrary, afraid of putting her hopes up and screwing up afterwards.
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Hi. I wasn’t expecting that.
@Y/n: Hi! How are you right now?
She bites her lip, incredulously chuckling. She was almost certain that this question was supposed to come before the picture.
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Better.
She was feeling better, but not just that — she was feeling.. something. Something like.. seen. Like she was remembered by someone, like she existed, for once.
And those feelings stirred something even deeper within her.
The connection was becoming deeper — it was just now that she realized that the flirting which occurred every now and then wasn’t meaningless. It had a deep impact on her, in her soul — as a friend, as a person, and mostly.. as a woman. She needed it. She needed someone to like her, to pay attention to her, to see her — intimately, closely. Even better when this someone wasn’t a superficial person, and actually one who she related to and felt like she could share this dormant part of herself.
So she decides to share a picture, too.
She sits upright on the couch, the blanket falling and pooling around her hips as she opens the camera. She switches from the back camera to the frontal one, and takes a selfie. She was wearing a simple grey tank top, so her shoulders, collarbone and neck were on display. She wasn’t smiling smiling, just briefly, just enough to make a friendly expression. It was soft, tender. Unlike the deadly Black Widow.
Thankfully, for you, she didn’t have to be that.
So she presses send, laying back again and staring at the screen in anticipation — her eyes closely watching as the send mark changed into seen, that then turned into open. It stayed like that for a long while — like you were examining the picture and weren’t ashamed of it.
It gave her goosebumps.
The typing bubble appeared again after what felt like an eternity.
@Y/n: You’re beautiful, Nat.
It was a compliment you had already used on her. But this situation? Oh, it felt so, so different. You were talking about the simplicity, the domesticity of her in this closeup, the softness.
Fueling the fire that started to burn within her on this specific day.
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Just a selfie.. don't get carried away. I'm hardly camera ready.
@Y/n: It's more than a selfie for me. It made my day. If that's not camera ready, I wonder how it'll be like when you try.
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Would you like to see?
Oops. She didn't think before sending this one.
@Y/n: Hell, yes.
Her mind was immersed, totally consumed by the attention you were giving her — no jokes, no hints, just shameless flirting. Standing from the couch, she walks to her small bedroom, which was already dark, gladly — she closes her door, and slumps on her bed. Seduction was her nature, she couldn't control it. Though it wasn't necessarily a bad thing right now. Reaching her hand out, she turned on her yellow dim lamp, a gentle, warm glow casting her skin, making a better environment for the incoming picture.
She reopened the camera and adjusted herself in a comfortable position — knees pulled up, her left hand resting above her stomach as she held her phone with her right one above herself — taking the photo. There was auburn red hair all over the pillows, some strands framing her face perfectly. There was skin showing — a bit of her thighs, her arms, waist.. the curves of her body leaving room for imagination.
And something that she forgot about for the longest time.
The bullet scar above her left hip.
She stared at the photo on her screen, finger hovering over the "Send" button instinctively. The lighting was perfect, the pose effortless yet captivating. Her expression was soft, relaxed — but her pupils were darkened, a hint of the sinful emotions coursing through her body. But her eyes fell to the scar.
It was unavoidable, cutting through the smooth expanse of her pale skin like a brutal reminder. The bullet scar left by the Winter Soldier, a relic of her past life, stood out glaringly in the image. Her jaw clenched as a familiar wave of self-consciousness surged through her, a feeling she thought she had buried already.
She sighed, leaning her head back against the headboard as her thumb swiped to open the editing tools. It took her less than a minute to brush the scar away, leaving her skin unmarked, untouched. Natasha tilted her head, scrutinizing the result. The photo looked… perfect. Too perfect, perhaps, but she didn’t allow herself to dwell on that.
With a deep breath, she pressed send.
Unlike your other conversations, she felt.. heavy. Like the instinct of having to show her perfect body in order to be liked was speaking louder than her rational side.
The message was delivered almost immediately, but the seconds felt drawn out, agonizingly long. When the "seen" indicator appeared, her heart raced. She bit the inside of her cheek, anticipating your response.
The reply came swiftly:
@Y/n: Wow. I’m speechless.
She smirked (bittersweetly), her thumb hesitating for only a moment before typing back.
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That’s a first. Usually, you always have something to say.
The typing bubble reappeared, and she waited, her heart thudding in her chest.
@Y/n: You make it hard to think, Nat.
Natasha felt warmth flood her cheeks, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed.
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Don’t let it go to your head.
@Y/n: I think it's too late for that.
For a moment, she wondered what you would have said if you’d seen the unedited version. Would you have found it ugly? Would you have pitied her? Or would you have admired her for wearing it like the badge of survival it was?
In her dreams, you would have worshiped it.
Before she could send anything else, you decided to take a shot on meeting her in person once again.
@Y/n: I'm sorry, I'll have to suggest. How about this: I'll find the best café within a 10-mile radius, and you can tell me if my photography is as good as my coffee recommendations.
Time passed, and the accusations against Natasha had toned down a bit. Maybe, just maybe, if she's careful enough, she can do this. The first date she'd have in what, a decade?
It was refreshing. And scary. But overall refreshing.
@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Deal. But I will be the judge in both.
The day and place was decided — it would be in Oslo, downtown — a café, where tons of people would be present. Natasha, growing up, became a master in blending in.
If fate decided to be on her side, this would be one of the best days of her life.
She tossed her phone onto the pillow beside her and laid back, staring at the ceiling. Her fingers brushed the scar again, tracing its jagged edges as if trying to understand its place in this new chapter of her life.
“Not everyone gets to see this side of me,” she murmured to herself.
And for the first time, she wasn’t sure if that was a warning or a promise.
♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧
The café buzzed with the warmth of chatter, the soft clinking of ceramic mugs, and the occasional burst of laughter. It was tucked into a quiet corner of downtown Oslo, a place where the world felt comfortably distant yet close enough for her to disappear if necessary. Hours before, Natasha had dressed herself up — a burgundy dress, black tights, her usual black boots — and her jacket, of course. Her hair was naturally wavy, falling down her shoulders and back — and the makeup was simple. She wasn't a woman for makeup. But this time, she wore red lipstick and the faintest glitter eyeshadow.
She felt like a doll. It was stupid, a thing she liked to imagine how it would feel like back then — in the Red Room, where the girls wore black uniforms — grey sometimes, but always robotic, always calculated. It was a comforting feeling, which made her want to go back in time and tell little Natalia: yes! we are older now, and we are all dolled up for the date of our dreams.
Natasha arrived early — of course she did. She always did. She chose a seat by the window, her back to the wall, a vantage point where she could see everyone coming and going. Her heart wasn’t racing, but there was a slight tension in her chest. She sipped her coffee slowly, the warm bitterness grounding her as she kept an eye on the door. Then, you walked in.
Her doubting thoughts flew away the moment the green eyes landed on you.
She recognized you instantly. Your smile was smaller in person but somewhat warmer, more genuine. You scanned the room briefly before your eyes landed on her, and for a moment, Natasha thought she saw your breath catch. She softly smirks, gaze involuntarily daring.
Come and get me. This? Is all for you.
She shaked that thought away as she watched you approach her table — your clothes, your style, your body language — she scanned it all. The Black Widow wasn't an easy woman to conquer, which made her dump most of the people that tried to hit on her in the past. You were a rare exception, someone who didn't even have to try to make her heart race. It happened in it’s own.
“You made it,” Natasha said, standing to greet you, to give you a quick hug — the subtle press of your body against hers making her skin tingle. Damn it. She adjusted her dress before sitting back down. You did the same, sitting in front of her.
“Of course I did. This date was all I could think about,” you reply, eyes drinking her in, like she was the prettiest woman to exist. She truly was. “No. Let me rephrase. Seeing you was all I could think about.”
Natasha lets out a soft laugh, shifting her gaze towards the floor. She was so pale that the fact that she was blushing was, unfortunately, evident.
“Feels good to finally hear your voice,” she says, resting her chin on her hand as she stares at you. “In person. Not in audio messages or calls.”
After ordering pastries and more coffee for the both of you, the conversation flowed easily, from the usual mundane topics to little jokes that made Natasha chuckle softly. She found herself studying you more and more, the way you gestured when you spoke, the way your eyes lit up when you laughed.
Eventually, the question came.
“So, what’s it like?” you asked, your voice gentle but curious. “Being an Avenger?”
Natasha paused, her fingers brushing the edge of her coffee cup. She had expected this, of course. She knew it would come up. She couldn't simply hide, not when her face had shown up on TV so many times. But if necessary, she would say that this wasn't what she wanted to be anymore. Not with you. She simply wanted to be herself around you, and not the superhero.
She wasn't Natasha who assaulted T'challa. Wasn’t the Sokovia Accords breaker. She hoped you knew by now.
“It’s… complicated,” she said after a moment, her tone measured. “Not as glamorous as it looks on TV, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
You smiled. “I’m sure. But it’s still something, isn’t it? Saving the world, fighting alongside legends.”
A faint, nostalgic smile tugged at her lips. “It was something, yeah. But it wasn’t always about saving the world.” Her gaze softened as she thought back. “There was this time when Tony installed this AI in the kitchen — Friday’s cousin or something — to help us cook. It ended up burning everything it touched. Clint started calling it ‘Flamebot,’ and Steve…” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Steve tried to fix it, of course. Said it was ‘worth saving.’”
You laughed, and Natasha found herself smiling more openly. She was rambling.
“And Thor,” she continued, “he once mistook a microwave for some kind of… magical contraption. He tried to ‘summon its power’ with Mjolnir.”
“Did it work?” you teased.
Natasha smirked. “No, but we had to get a new microwave.”
The nostalgia warmed her, but it also left her feeling melancholic. She missed them. Not the missions or the battles, but the team — the messy, dysfunctional family they had become. You seemed to notice the shift in her mood and didn’t push further. Instead, you leaned in slightly, your voice soft.
“I can tell you miss them,” you said.
Natasha nodded, her walls lowering just a fraction. “Yeah. I do.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, realizing she needed some cheering up. This was supposed to be a happy day, not one to bring up sad memories. So you opened your bag, pulling out of it your camera — which made Natasha's eyes brighten up.
“You brought it!” she exclaims. “I almost forgot that you're a photographer,”
“I thought of the possibility of having to register this moment. And I was absolutely right. You look.. beautiful isn't enough to describe it,” you deeply sigh, as if surrendering to her, to this feeling of being completely in love. “Can I please take a picture of you?”
Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile. “A picture of me?” she asked, her tone teasing. “You know that’s dangerous, right? What if you decide to sell it to the tabloids?”
You laughed softly, looking at her like a lovesick puppy, shaking your head. “I’m not interested in fame, Nat. Just in you.”
That made her pause, her smirk faltering for just a second. It wasn’t often she heard something so direct, so sincere. She tilted her head, studying you with those piercing green eyes, as if trying to gauge if you meant it.
“Alright,” she said finally, leaning back in her chair. “But only if it’s a good angle. No pressure.”
You grinned, lifting the camera and adjusting the settings with practiced ease. “No such thing as a bad angle with you.”
Natasha rolled her eyes, but the blush dusting her cheeks just got worse. She straightened up, her posture relaxed yet commanding, exuding that natural grace and power.
“Like this?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, a hint of amusement in her voice.
You brought your chair closer, lowering the camera for a moment. “No. Don’t pose,” you said quietly. “Just be yourself.”
That caught her off guard. Her brow furrowed slightly, and she shifted in her seat, unsure of what to do with herself for once.
“Be myself, huh?” she murmured.
You nodded, lifting the camera again. “Exactly. I don’t need the Black Widow. I want Nat.”
Her lips parted slightly at your words, and for a fleeting moment, the mask she wore every day seemed to slip. Her shoulders relaxed, her head tilted to the side, and a genuine, very shy smile spread across her face. “I-”
Before she could protest, the shutter clicked, capturing her in that rare, unguarded moment. “Perfect,” you murmured, lowering the camera and meeting her gaze.
Natasha shook her head, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
“Only the good kind,” you replied with a grin, setting the camera down.
She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand again as she studied you. “So, do I get to see it? Or are you keeping me in suspense?”
You turned the camera around, showing her the photo on the screen. Her expression softened as she took it in — the warmth in her eyes, the slight tilt of her head, the way the light framed her face, her rosy cheeks. It wasn’t just a picture. It was a glimpse of who she really was, beyond the layers of secrecy and survival. It was simply her, away from espionage, having coffee with her date.
Her unforgettable trip to Norway.
“It’s… good,” she said quietly, her voice almost hesitant.
“Good?” you ask. “It’s stunning. Just like my model.”
Oh, that…
The way you emphasized the word ‘my’.. the way you were making her feel.. actually precious. She was trapped.
“Alright,” she said, sitting back. “You’ve had your fun. Now tell me, do I at least get a copy?”
You laughed, nodding. “Of course. But only if you promise to go easy on me when I take more later.”
She smirks, her confidence returning. “We’ll see about that.”
As the evening wore, the sky showed a beautiful indigo, stars twinkling just like the sparkles in both of your sets of eyes. Natasha allowed herself to relax. To bask in this kind of normalcy that she never had the chance to experience. She had seen a lot, lived a lot. She knew what people could do in response to fear. She saw war and hatred, she saw coldness and cruelty. But from now on, she could live in a lighter way — like her heart was finally at peace.
“Should we get going?” you asked as the people also started to leave, standing and offering her a hand.
Natasha hesitated for half a second before taking it. Your touch was warm, steady, grounding, and promising. As you stepped outside, the cool air of Oslo wrapped around you. The city lights flickered like stars. Natasha felt a strange sense of calm. When she felt your arm enveloping her shoulders, her breath hitched, but she didn’t let it show — leaning into you gently.
“Where to now?” she asked, glancing at you.
“Well, the hotel, if you’re up for it,” you replied, your tone playful but not pushing.
That playfulness was a disguise for more surprises that awaited her back into the hotel room you were hosted in.
♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧
When you unlocked the door to the hotel you're staying in, Natasha followed you inside, her steps hesitant, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The space was warm and inviting, even if it wasn't a fixed place — especially after knowing you for a good while now — tons of polaroids laying across the bed, portraits, some funko pops that you bought recently. But what caught her attention almost immediately was the bouquet of flowers resting on the counter, tied together with a simple ribbon.
Her brows furrowed slightly as she turned to you, her lips parting in surprise. She didn't even have time to look around the place. “What’s this?” she asked softly, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and vulnerability.
You stepped past her, picking up the bouquet and holding it out to her with a smile. “These are for you,” you said.
Natasha blinked, momentarily stunned. Her fingers brushed against yours as she took the bouquet, her touch delicate, as though the flowers were something precious. She examined them quietly — deep purple irises mingled with soft yellow sunflowers and a few sprigs of white heather.
“So you’re a hopeless romantic.. you didn’t take them to the café. What made you so sure I would come back to your place?”
You shrugged, leaning casually against the counter. “I wasn’t sure,” you admitted, meeting her gaze with an honesty that made her pause. “But I hoped you would. And, well, I wanted them to be a surprise. It felt more personal this way.”
Natasha glanced down at the flowers again, her fingers gently brushing over the petals. “You really thought this through, didn’t you?”
“I thought you were worth the effort,” you said simply, the sincerity in your voice making her blink rapidly, as though she was trying to process it.
Natasha smiled as she shook her head lightly, trying to dismiss the overwhelming feeling creeping up on her. “You’re really something, you know that?”
You chuckled, stepping closer. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She tilted her head, her green eyes studying you with a mixture of curiosity and warmth. “It is,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t have to-”
“I wanted to,” you interrupted softly, stepping closer. “You deserve something beautiful. Something that shows how incredible you are, even if you can’t always see it yourself.”
Her lips parted, but no sound came out. The Avenger, the unshakable spy, was speechless.
Natasha turned to face you fully, the bouquet forgotten for a moment as she searched your face. It was almost desperate, how she tried to find reassurance, anything that told her that her past wasn't a problem. “You… you don’t even know the half of it,” she murmured.
“Maybe not,” you admitted. “But I want to. Every part of it, Nat. I want to know you.”
For a long moment, she just stared at you, as if trying to decide whether she could let her walls down one more time. Talking through an app was easier. In person felt way too serious. And then, with a deep, trembling breath, she set the bouquet back on the table and closed the distance between you.
She walked with determination, her chest lightly touching yours as her hands found their way to the back of your neck. Her fingernails softly scratched in between the hair strands. She didn't know what to say — she didn't want to say anything. In this very second, she simply wanted to feel. Feel what she never had the privilege to feel as the years passed, because yes, this felt like a privilege. She stood on her tiptoes to press herself closer, doe green eyes pleading.
They told you everything, and you didn't need to be passed the message twice. Your right hand cupped her cheek as the left one wrapped around her waist, bringing her even closer.
She was an angel. Not a deadly spy. A sweet angel to be taken care of. To have her needs satisfied and tears wiped away.
As Natasha felt you responding, she allowed her eyes to close.. basking in the darkness, wanting to be enveloped by this only one sensation. This soft, intense sensation of your lips against hers, moving in a way that wasn't rushed, but wasn't too deliberate either — your hands gripping her waist and bunching the fabric of her jacket, maneuvering her back against the counter. Holding onto your shoulders, she sat on the countertop, welcoming your body between her legs. The kiss lasted. She softly whimpered as she felt your tongue brushing against her bottom lip, asking for entrance, for more of her. And she allowed it. Her head tilted to the side, moving in sync with you — as your tongues danced, a dance she hadn’t discovered before.
Needing air, you pull away, foreheads resting against one another as you deeply inhale, messily. It was torture to stop kissing her, she was good. But air was necessary. Calming down, your arms circle her waist. A smile makes its way to your lips as you see the state she was in. Flushed. And…
“I think your lipstick is a little smudged,”
Natasha felt that — every nerve of her skin was burning, including the parts with the messy makeup. She lets out a huff of air and clears her throat, trying to find her voice so she could respond.
“That was…” she whispers, her hands cradling your jaw. “Wow,”
“You are ‘wow’,” you whisper, using your thumb to wipe away the red lipstick from the corners of her lips, fixing it. “You are perfect,”
“I'm not that- I'm not,” she nervously giggled, humming as you finished fixing her up. She shifted on the countertop, her legs pressing around your hips, as if afraid of you leaving.
“I wish I could give you my set of eyes,” your hands travel down to her thighs, feeling the slightly rough fabric of her tights, but that didn't make her skin any less smoother to the touch.
Her dress was basically all the way up her hips at this point, something she hadn't paid the necessary attention to, due being too busy making out with you — and in the pit of her stomach, a small flicker of panic started rising. This was reckless, so reckless. It is not like she didn’t think of the possibility of things escalating while coming back to the hotel with you, but in her head, she would have more control over the situation — and with that, manage to keep her secrets uncovered.
But she didn’t. Her body was reacting in its own and her mind was cloudy. She had zero control.
Before you could even touch the zipper of her dress, Natasha froze. Her breathing hitched — barely noticeable if you weren’t paying attention, but you were. Her hands, which had been so confident just moments ago, trembled as they pressed gently against your chest.
“Wait,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if it might shatter if spoken any louder. “Just.. give me a second,” she muttered, avoiding your gaze as she detangled from your grasp, getting off the counter and hurrying to the bathroom.
The sound of the door clicking shut echoed through the quiet room. Natasha leaned against the sink, gripping its edges so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her reflection stared back at her — flushed cheeks, wide eyes, red marks staining the corners of her lips.
Why did she have to choose a matte lipstick?
Her fingers brushed against her side, over the spot where the bullet scar lay. She had hidden it from you before, in that photo. It had seemed harmless at the time — a small deception to preserve the image of herself she wanted you to see. But now, in the raw intimacy of this moment, it felt like a betrayal.
She turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto her face in an attempt to calm the storm raging inside her. She couldn’t lose this moment — not to her own fears, not to a scar that was just one more piece of her long and painful past. But how could she explain it? How could she show you this part of her without ruining everything?
Natasha pressed her hands to her face, inhaling deeply. It’s just a scar, she told herself. It doesn’t define me. It doesn’t change who I am.
Except that it does. And a small tear rolls down her cheek.
You’re not in the Red Room anymore, she reminded herself, gripping the sink harder. And this person… they’re different. They don’t expect you to be perfect. They just want you.
The doubt, the fears that you managed to keep away from her in the past month, came back to her — only a thousand times more painful.
Regardless, Natasha didn't have any more time to think, before she heard the doorknob turning, the damn door she didn't lock opening. She kept her head low, her body stiff as she continued to hold onto the sink. You could see her reflection in the mirror clearly. The fact that she was silently shedding tears.
“You're crying,” you state quietly, taking baby steps towards her.
“And you're bold,” she chuckles, the sound a mixture of tears and sarcasm. She sniffles, using her arm to wipe her nose. “Entering like that.”
“You're crying.” you shake your head, once again standing face to face with her. You reach out your hands and cup her tear stained cheeks. “What's wrong?”
“I…” she debated what to tell you. That she was afraid of physical intimacy since she was young? Or that she hid a crucial thing about her body all this time? “I don't know-”
“You’re hiding something from me and are afraid I’m gonna hate you?” you inquire, voice serious — not mocking, not pressuring.
What?
Her eyes go wide instantly, the tears stopping. You wipe them away from her cheeks, expression softening again as you prepared to explain yourself. “You’re part of a New Yorker superheroes team. There was absolutely nothing that spoke about your personality in SparkMatch, which is expected, Nat. I’m aware that there’s a lot that I don’t know about you. I know where I’m getting myself into.”
“For the longest time, all I wanted was company. Someone to talk to, to listen to me, and that I could listen to them. Someone to see me,” she quietly confesses, leaning her cheeks into your palms. “You did just that. You’re that person.. you filled a huge void in me. You saved me in more ways that you could ever know.”
“I’m so grateful for that.” you lean closer, pressing a lingering kiss against her forehead. She shyly wrapped her arms around your waist, her eyes searching yours once more.
“It’s not just that…” she adds, her breath hitching. She was now determined to continue from where you left off on the entrance counter. “I longed- I long for.. touches, and..”
“And closeness,” you complete, head dipping down and tucking itself into the crook of her neck. “Geez, you smell delicious,”
“It’s… Twilly D’Hermès,” breathless, Natasha speaks, a small hint of pride in her tone as she spoke about her moisturizing cream. “My body lotion,”
It wasn’t cheap, but she liked to spoil herself sometimes. It was also great to deal with the constant bruises and cuts on her skin. Your brows raise in surprise, an incredulous laugh escaping your lips. Natasha could feel the warmth of your breath on her neck, a surge of happiness and ecstasy washing over her.
“That’s.. pretty luxurious, one can say.”
“Can’t a woman spoil herself sometimes?” she retorts — interrupted by a gasp that left her as your lips pressed against her neck. Her eyes flutter shut, her hands holding onto your arms as she did her best to keep talking. “B-Besides, years of bruises and burns require good skincare.”
“I see,” you hum, nuzzling into her, into the spot behind her ear. She felt soft today. Now you knew the reason. After staying like that for a while, you pull back, looking into her eyes with a gaze that showed admiration, respect and concern towards her comfort. “Can I?”
She deeply inhales, feeling you reach for her dress again — only more mindfully now. Shrugging her jacket off her shoulders, she places it next to her on the sink and nods.
She was prepared for the question.
“Okay, hold on.” you kneel down, beginning to untie her boots, catching her by surprise. You remove them and place them aside, before slowly pulling down her tights. “Damn. Why did you have to wear something so complicated?”
“I wanted to feel beautiful,” she quietly chuckles, allowing you to get rid of the excessive fabric on her body.
So, it's time for the dress. You got up to your feet and slid your palm up her spine, holding onto the zipper and then pulling it down. Natasha was expectant, self aware, but mainly, consumed by her desire — finally awake again.
“I'll make you feel beautiful,” you nod, pushing the dress straps off her shoulders and sliding them down her arms.
“You already do.” She breathes.
She doesn't stop you from getting her off the dress. But when it stops below her hips, she tenses up. That's because she sees you freezing. To look at her. It's strange, to have someone look at her body with no apparent emotion. You didn't look at her as if she were a prize to win — an object, or a weapon. Helping her step off the dress, you toss it aside on the floor. Now nothing was disturbing you from taking her in. Her black underwear. Her toned muscles — which you assumed were from years of workout. And her scars. Cuts, a few small keloids, and the bullet scar.
“You didn’t have to hide this from me.” you breathe, dropping to your knees once more as you held her by the hips. She found herself leaning against the sink’s counter, breathing ragged, every nerve of her body buzzing in anticipation. “Makes you even more gorgeous.”
“I—”
“You're fucking gorgeous.” you hiss, kissing above the place that once had a bullet in.
Yup. Her dreams came true.
“Please,” she murmurs, not knowing how to vocalize what she wanted. But the heat pooling between her thighs told you everything.
Your lips make a path from her hip down to her pelvic bone, right hand grabbing her thigh and putting it on your shoulder — coaxing a gasp out of her. Your palm covers her scar, as though it were something precious about herself — making her feel safe, above everything. Natasha, for a moment, almost lost her balance — having to hold her weight with one foot — as your pointer finger hooked around the soaked fabric of her panties, pulling it to the side. You gave her one look. One look before diving in.
You are no longer alone.
She took the message. And her world exploded.
Your tongue working on her — licking past her folds, tasting her — as if committing to memory, and not just using her — her slender fingers tangling into your hair, pulling your head closer to her core, soft moans leaving her mouth as if there was no tomorrow.
“Yes,” She gasps, her hips bucking, seeking more of the kitten licks you showered her clitoris with. “Don't stop.”
None of her sexual experiences had been good in the past — not in the slightest. So having something so good, so pleasuring — it was truly her first.
In the Norwegian hotel, Natasha was more Avenged than she ever was with the Avengers. In the end of the night, she ended up with you on the bed — your clothes making each other company on the floor, as she lost herself — in your body, your scent, your hands on her,
and your love for her.
♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧
You were tucked under the covers when the bathroom's door opened — the hot steam of her recent shower now dispersing and mingling with the air. You sat up, leaning against the headboard as you watched her with a smile.
Natasha walked towards you, the white hotel's towel in her hands, drying her damp hair. She was wearing a t-shirt you lent her, which was probably three times her size. She was smiling. Happily.
Before climbing back onto the bed, she absentmindedly placed the wet towel on an armchair. She gently settled onto your lap, straddling your hips, her head instantly nesting on your shoulder.
“Hi, baby.” you embrace her.
“If I have to leave the country, for any reasons,” she says, her hands tracing random patterns on your back. “Will you come with me?”
“I'll go anywhere with you.” you reply, voice unwavering.
She released the air she didn't know she was holding, and allows herself to relax her sore body. She nuzzled closer as you played with her still damp hair.
Maybe dating apps weren't so bad, after all. If she ever saw her team or Tony again, she would thank him for making her install it.
“Oh, and by the way,”
Natasha whispers, finally. Probably, you were aware. But it was one more thing about her true self she wanted you to know.
“My name is Natalia.”
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myfictionaldreams · 12 days ago
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Hey, I was wondering if you are still going to write for Natasha Romanoff x reader. If you are, imagine something where the avengers don’t know that they are together, until one of them (maybe Tony because he talks too much) sees reader with hickies and messy hair early in the morning after an intense night 🤭. And then maybe Natasha would be wondering why she’s taking so long away and comes in after. 🤭🤭🤭🤭
⁀➷ Classified // Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader
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Summary: A quiet night at Avengers Tower turns into something much more intimate when secrets begin to unravel—and nothing stays hidden forever.
Requested by: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to write! I've actually had this drafted for months and months, but I'm so glad to finally get around to finalising it.
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, soft dom!Nat, sub!reader, doctor reader, secret relationship, marking (hickeys), hair pulling, minor injuries, fingering, oral, praise kink, protective nat, power play
Words: 2.4k
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link
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Restocking the medical supplies was usually a monotonous task that dragged endlessly. Today, however, you completed the task with the precision of someone trying not to think about worst-case scenarios.
Gauze, antiseptics, sutures—each item slid into place like it could stop your hands from shaking. The mission was supposed to be routine—in and out. But they were late. No one had heard a word from the jet in hours. 
While wiping down the already sterile and clean surface for the tenth time in the last two hours, you tried to avoid your colleagues’ quizzical looks, but your phone buzzed.
Heart thudding painfully in your chest, you snatched it up.
Natasha. Thank fuck.
You answers, relief flooding your chest. “Romanoff.”
“Mm”, came her voice, low and sultry. “I love it when you call me that. Makes me feel like a bad girl.”
Turning your back on the other doctors and nurses in the room, you tried to act casual, ignoring her remarks that had already caused heat to creep up your neck at her teasing. “How can I help you, Miss Romanoff? Are you in need of some medical assistance?”
Natasha laughs lightly down the phone at your professional response. “I need you to come to my room and check on me. My face has been missing its home between your legs.”
Her words caused an immediate reaction between your legs, your core tightening with arousal. Coughing to release some pent-up frustration, you tried to casually answer, “Your left knee? It hurts? Can you come to the hospital level, or do you need me to come to you?”
“You can come alright. I’m in my room. Alone.”
“I’ll be there shortly with my medical supplies.”
“That’s my girl.” The line went dead.
Pocketing your phone while turning to your colleagues, you tried to explain that you needed to attend to Black Widow’s knee. Slinging a medical bag over your shoulder, you tried to walk and not run like you wanted to out of the medical bay and into the elevator.
When stepping onto Avengers’ personal floor, you could see no other individual. Tentatively, you knocked once on her door before entering.
The room was dimly lit, and soft orange light from the setting sun cast through the ceiling-to-floor windows. Natasha, beautiful as ever, stood near her bed in just a sports bra and leggings. Her red hair was still damp from a quick shower, and the room was sweet from the scent of her body wash.
Those fierce green eyes clash with yours as you close the door.
“Shirt off”, she commands, her tone light but firm.
Blinking in response, you remark whilst dropping the bag onto the floor. “I thought I was here to check on you, baby.”
Natasha gives you her signature smirk. “You are. But I’ve missed you. And you’re wearing too many clothes for that, even though I love seeing you in those scrubs.”
Still, you stepped toward her first, fingertips brushing against her bare stomach that tensed at the action as you stared at the discoloured bruise along her left side. All excitement had quickly manifested into worry.
“How’d you do this?”
“Threw a guy over a railing. He didn’t go quietly. You know how it is.”
You sigh, pressing your palm gently over the bruised skin, checking how significant the bruising is. The lack of reaction from Nat was reassuring; you knew that her pain tolerance was higher than most of the US population.
“You need to rest. Ice. Maybe you shouldn’t be on your feet.”
She leans in, her voice a purr against your ear. “Then you’ll just have to keep me in bed, won’t you, Doc?”
There was barely any time to react before she was kissing you- hard and hot, like she’d been waiting days, weeks, too long. Her hands tangled in your hair, guiding your mouth open so she could taste you deeper. She tasted sweet, like cherries and gum.
Nat walked you backwards until your knees hit the bed. Collapsing onto the mattress, she’s quick to follow, straddling your hips with a predator’s grace.
It took entirely too long – seconds – for your shirt to be removed, but her lips are all over the moment it’s removed. From your neck, biting and licking, to your stomach, kissing and caressing with her tongue like she wanted to taste your entire body.
“You taste like antiseptic”, she murmurs against your skin, her admission not stopping her actions at all as she gently nipples on your collarbone, her fingers massaging your breasts through your bra. “And anxiety, did you miss me, hm?”
Tugging her closer, your nails dig into the flesh of her hips, “And you smell like trouble, baby.”
“Mmhm,” she hums in agreement, “but you love trouble, don’t you, Sugar?”
Her lips are on yours again with renewed hunger, but slower, like she savoured everything you had to offer. Your hands move to cup her arse, pulling her hips closer until you’re both grinding together.
“Let me take care of you for once.”
Natasha arched a brow. “You think I need taking care of?”
Flipping the two of you with surprising ease - meaning Natasha allowed you to do so - you hover over the assassin, taking a moment to admire the redness of her hair, mixing with the orange streaks of sun beaming through the window.
“You’re so fucking beautiful”, you breathe the words out as your fingers bring down the waistband of her leggings and underwear as she removes her own bra, leaving her completely naked beneath you.
While mindful of her bruised side, you eased her to the edge of the bed. Sinking to your knees, Natasha’s eyes darkened as she bit her lips, thighs spreading as you ease each leg over your shoulder.
“You’re going to ruin me, aren’t you?” she asks as she idly plays with her own nipples until they’re taunt, rosy and peaked.
You didn’t answer. Just pressed your lips to her inner thigh, slowly kissing your way upward. Her fingers laced through your hair, but her grip faltered when your mouth finally reached her. Tongue lickign up the length of her hairless pussy, adding pressure to slip betweens her softness to feel the firm, throbbing clit that drew out a choked sound from the back of her throat.
“Fuck,” she goans, her eyes closing and head tipping back.
You work her slowly. Needing to memorise her taste, the sounds she makes, the way her body moves from her hips, trying to dictate your movements by a subtle role, to the way her strong thighs nearly suffocate you between them. 
“Don’t stop,” she rasps, the hand in her hair tightening to the point of pain. “God, baby, just like that.” 
You were never going to stop, even if you couldn’t breath as your lips sealed around her clit. Two fingers slipped inside, curling in time with your pulsing mouth, the other hand pressing lightly above her pubic bone, attempting to keep her hips on the bed so you can have some form of control.
You watch, memsorised as her cunt begins to pulse around your fingers. Back arching, thighs unbelievably tight around your face, a moan so breathtaking that you’re sure your own arousal is now staining your scrubs with how turned on you were. She was utterly fucking beautiful.
Ever the dom, Natasha’s orgasm hadn’t even subsided fully before she’s pulling your body back onto the bed, swapping your positions so you’re lying against the sheets.
“That was dangerous,” she teases against your mouth, nipping your lower lip between her teeth until it snaps back to place. Now, I’m going to have to remind you who’s really in charge.”
Her slender fingers skim beneath your waistband, teasing and lingering.
“Say it”, she says against your throat. “Say you missed me.”
“I missed you.” Your voice quivers as her fingers finally dip lower, brushing beneath your underwear, touching exactly where you want her most.
She was always like this, dominant and teasing, but you’re always rewarded.
“That’s my girl, always so wet for me”, she compliments before sucking on the skin to the point of pain beneath your ear. You grunt at the mix of discomfort and pleasure as her fingers idly stroke over your soaked pussy.
There was no rushing Natasha, not when she’d been kept from you for so long. A small part of you worried that the other doctors and nurses would wonder where you’d disappeared, too, but all rational thoughts escaped you as she spread your labia, pressing her finger directly there.
One finger, became two, slipping inside as you gasped and arched into her, rolling your hips until her palm is pressing against your clit. With slow, deep curls, Natasha's fingers have your thighs trembling and breathy moans becoming desperate in no time at all.
All the while, she keeps her forehead pressed against yours, eyes locked on your face, studying every moan, every flutter of your lashes.
“God, look at you,” she whispers, voice rough. “Fall apart for me. Are you going to cum on my fingers, Sugar?”
You nod your head, whimpering as she applies more pressure to your clit. Bucking up and grabbing her shoulders. “Please - Natasha-!”
“I’ve got you”, she promises, lowering her face now until she’s biting your nipples through your bra in a sharp sting of pain.
You came with with a startled cry, your cunt pulsing around her fingers, sucking her in deeper, like your body never wanted to give up. She keeps the pressure, continues to curl her fingers as your orgasm draws on and on until you’re a pile of numbness, still half dressed from work.
Nat withdraws her fingers with slow movements, leaving you twitching in the sensitive area. Watching her movements, you groan deeply as she sucks her wet fingers into her mouth, tasting your juices with a pornographic moan, her eyes clossing as she savoures the taste.
She curls around you protectively, damp fingers brushing against your cheeks whilst kissing your temple, then your shoulder. Lazily dragging her lips down your neck, sucking another deepy hickey against your skin. 
Groaning whilst half-laughing, “You’re marking me on purpose”.
She smiles against your skin. “Obviously. You’re mine.”
~~~~~~~~
Later, you were lounging on one of the couches at the tower’s low-key celebration, which was never really low-key when it came to Tony Stark. Thankfully, you owned a turtlenecked dress that was soft and comfortable on your sensitive, heavily marked skin.
Something Natasha noticed as she caught you in a dark crevice, easing away your neckline to admire her artwork with a bite of her full lips. That wasn’t all, though. Usually, at public events, the two of you would stay on opposite sides of the room, but tonight, Nat couldn’t help herself.
Frequently, she would walk back, her warm hand brushing the small of your back, her eyes watching your every sip, every shift in your chair; your secret girlfriend missed nothing.
Since then, the party has dwindled to only a handful of individuals, who are, for the most part, members of the Avengers or close friends.
“You know,” the billionaire loudly declared while holding up his glass of scotch. I know I’m a genius, and you guys never really appreciate it, but I’ve just cracked a code, and I need to share.”
Not thinking anything of it, you continued to idly sip from your drink, eyes flicking to the red-haired woman sitting across from you in the circle of couches.
“I know who’s been sneaking around like hormone-crazed teenagers.” Tony grins widely. You stiffen, eyes once more flicking to Natasha, who remains nonchalant. Her reaction has you calming. Of course, he wouldn’t know about you and Natasha. She’s an assassin; she could keep secrets, hide in plain sight, and, of course, your relationship was still hidden.
However, as your eyes moved back to the billionaire staring only at you, you knew nothing good would come from his next words. “Our very own medbay angel and Miss Romanoff. Caught the Doc here leaving her bedroom with messy hair and a constellation of hickets. Pretty classic evidence, honestly.”
A beat of silence followed. Every head turned to look at you. At Natasha. At the space between you.
All you can do is freeze. Not blinking. Not breathing. They knew. They all knew. The attention made your skin feel too tight, like your heartbeat had jumped outside your body.
It wasn’t just embarrassment—it was vulnerability. The intimacy you’d guarded for so long was exposed. It was no longer a private, secret thing. It was no longer yours and Natasha's alone.
Finally, dragging a deep breath in, the urge to flee the room came over you, but an enraged redhead stepped into your path. Her arms rested comfortingly on your upper arms, thumbs stroking in slow circles. The energy rolling off of her was unmistakable. She was protective, sharp, and unapologetic.
“That’s enough”, she said evenly, tone calm but laced with authority. “We kept it private for a reason, Tony.”
The man blinked, taken aback by the reaction from the room. “Hey, it’s not a bad thing-”
“She’s not a punchline,” Natasha continues to defend you. “And this isn’t gossip. I don’t want the whole world, including our enemies, Stark, knowing what she means to me. Understand?”
You felt her hand slip behind you, curling gently around your wrist, anchoring. But the tremble of anger was evidently there.
“Nat,” you whisper, stepping closer to her side as your heart hammered.
Turning away from her friends and colleagues, her features soften, eyes tracking every emotion written across your face. “You okay?”
You nod, even if you weren’t entirely sure.
She leans in, her breath tickling your eye. “You’re mine. And I’m not letting anyone make you feel small about it. Not even Stark,”
There was another beat of silence until Clint, of all people, groaned and toasted an empty beer bottle at Tony’s head. “It took you this long to figure that out? I’ve had fifty bucks on them for months.”
“Same,” said Sam, raising his hand.
Steve snorted, “I told you she wasn’t just icing her injury in the medbay.”
Tony looked around, betrayed. “You all knew?”
Bucky shrugged. “It wasn’t that subtle.”
Laughter filled your ears from those surrounding you. Natasha’s grip on your wrist eased, but her hand kept you close. Exhaling shakily, you watched the group ease back into their jokes and drinks, the weight slowly lifting from your chest.
When you glanced back at Natasha, she was already looking at you. She pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Not a secret anymore. Now there’s no hiding that you’re mine.”
And somehow, that made it all ok.
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xqueen-of-disasterx · 6 months ago
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𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝐝𝐚𝐲: 𝟎.𝟏𝟒 - 𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱
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𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Bodyguard!Natasha x fem!reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, top!Nat, bottom!reader, bratty!reader, slight brattamer!Nat, age gap, car sex, spanking, manhandling?, hair pulling, strap on,
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: Natasha is your new bodyguard, who’s not willing to put up with any of your bullshit
𝐀/𝐍: we hit 2000 followers so I got something special planned after kinktober
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 | 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧e
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Natasha kept her Rey Bens on while she waited outside the college you were attending, you were practically fresh meat in her eyes with your 19 years of age. She would love to leave all this behind and settle down alone somewhere in the wilderness. But Natasha needed your dear daddy's money first, so she was stuck as a glorified babysitter. 
She heard the passenger door slam shut when you entered on your goddamn phone like always. "I thought the driver was gonna pick me up" She scoffed, and asked himself if school uniforms always looked so... slutty "Gotta take up with me" She murmured watching you from the corner of her eye, she knew you why your last bodyguard was fired and it was getting harder by the minute not to step in his footsteps 
You didn’t honour her another glance as you stared into the passing trees and cars which flashed by your eyes as he drove down the streets. Which greatly annoyed Natasha, you weren’t supposed to ignore her like that, like she didn’t even exist to you. She wanted you to look at her with those big doe eyes, while you begged her for more. 
“You’re just gonna stare out the window like that?” Natasha scoffed but still got no reaction from you. “Take that damn things out-“ She reached over and before you could even register she had pulled it out your ear, throwing it in the backseat. 
“They were expensive” you snapped “I don’t fucking care now stop throwing a damn tantrum and relax” She murmured out her knuckles turning white by how hard she was gripping the damn wheel. How she would love to fuck that damn attitude out of you. “Dick” I mumbled under your breath just quite enough for Natasha to overhear. 
“You’re just gonna sit here and pout like a brat?” She asked, not getting an answer from you. “If you behave like one maybe I should just lay you over my knee and give you what brats deserve” She spat and you could clearly see the anger in her eyes. 
“Oh kinky” Your voice was addictive as you teased the older woman “Ist that an invitation?” You could practically see the wheels turning in her brain as she was thinking what to make of that statement. 
Without another word she pulled into an empty park deck and searched for the most desolate place in it. When the engine shut off the room was filled with uncomfortable silence. “Get your damn ass in the back I’m teaching you a lesson” She murmured and you listened. 
She put you over her lap, her hands massaging the flesh of your ass. “You’re such a damn brat” Natasha had to laugh “A damn slut too. Oh what would your dear old man say if he saw you like that” She teased knowing her words would get you. 
But you could only whimper when her hands hitched your skirt up to reveal some pretty pink panties. “I’m sorry” You whined hoping she’d go easy on you now “You’re only sorry because I called you out on your bullshit” 
“You’re gonna count each spank, understood” Natasha asked, her voice filled with mockery. You nodded fast to get it over with in hopes she would  maybe touch you more sensually after. The first slap was almost careful to test water with you, but it still made you yelp. “O- one” you stuttered gripping her leg harder. 
Another smack this time harder “two” She had to smile at your desperate sounds “You’re so cute making those sounds I almost have pity for you” She smirked and you heard how she was savoring this moment. It was satisfying to finally show your place. She adjusted your panties over your cheeks again, her hands cold against your hot flesh. “Such a pretty girl” She cooed, reaching out for your hair to pull your head up “You're a pretty girl isn’t that right?” You moaned out at the word feeling your panties starting to wet “I’m your pretty girl”
By the tenth smack she had brought you to tears, your massacre running down your cheeks and it made Natasha just all the more desperate for a taste. “Learned your lesson baby?” she cooed her hands rubbing over your sensitive skin. You nod wiping the tears from the corners of your eyes. Natashas strong hands pulled you up to strangle her lap. “You want a reward now, don’t you baby girl” She sweetly kissed your neck. 
“Yes” You whispered, hiding your face in her shoulder. You could make out sounds of her jeans opening to reveal her gritty strap “your so wet baby” she hushed pulling your panties to the side “all for you” Natasha hummed satisfied with your answer, she guided you down on her strap only after the tip you were already clinging to her shoulders for dear life. “Aw” She mocked “Is my cock to big for your little pussy” You nodded tears staining your shirt “then you’ll have to learn to take it” 
She guided you further down her strap, you couldn’t help but moan at her intrusion. Once you were bottomed out by the older woman you could swear you’d feel her at your cervix. You started to move up and down her strap, the bouncing making your breaths giggle in her face as licked over your perky nipples. You cried out with each move of your hips, wishing that the older women would just help you. 
But she was busy worshipping your chest, peppering light kisses over your soft skin as she listened to the sweet melody of your moans. “Such a good girl” She whispered, rubbing her thumbs over your sensitive nipples, making you squeak.She noticed your tired expression as you started to feel the burn in your muscles , you simply weren’t used to having to work for your pleasure. 
“You’re you” You cried, after what felt like an eternity for your legs with still nothing to make up for. Her hands went to your waist keeping it grounded, which also made you release a sound of disagreement. “Such a brat” She chuckled.
“You can’t even make yourself cum huh? Guess you’re so dumbed down you need my help with everything” She spat guiding your hips at a much faster pace. She vigorously fucked into your puffy pussy making you squeal like an abused puppy. 
“Fucking slut got what she fucking wanted huh.” She grabbed your hair pulling it back “You gonna cum whore? Gonna cum on my cock like a bitch?” You cried out once more, loving the way she treated you. “Fuck yes” She chuckled still moving you at a fast pace, the harness felt so good against her clit. “Yeah cum on my cock” 
With a few more harsh fucks you came over her lap falling into her embrace. “Good girl” She whispered, her hands rubbing you back. “Did I hurt you baby?” You shook her head recovering from your orgasm. “No, I’m fine… but you didn’t cum” She chuckled “I’m alright, the vision of you was enough for me, but we have to get going before your daddy fires me because we’re so late”
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sapphosclosefriend · 1 year ago
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Because you guys have been extremely helpful and soooo sweet I'll ask for another favour 🤭
I'm looking for this Natasha x Reader fic but I can't find the actual post. It's called Be my muse where basically she's your art professor, she comes to your apartment to pose for you and you end doing the deed (of course lol).
I really hope the author hasn't deactivated because it was such a great story and they wrote it so beautifully!!!!
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cjjohansson · 2 years ago
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pretty girl.
natasha romanoff x reader. amab.
-18+. just smut. <3 sub nat <3-
“I need to go and do something. I will be, like an hour.” You tell Nat as she huffs from the bed. 
“Nat, stop for one second, okay? I just need to go and give someone my files and I will be back. You can wait an hour. You can, can’t you?” You tell her, she has been so persistent since she woke up this morning but sometimes work has to come first, especially when you are already a week late with your mission reports. 
Nat nods to your words but it isn't enough for you, “I need words, Natasha.” You tell her firmly, no room for discussion and her eyes change again, not too soft but to lust. You already know what is going through her head. 
“Yes…daddy.”
“Ugh! Fuck, you're trying to kill me right now.” You mutter as she moves over to your bed and sits on it on her knees, her eyes never leaving you. She is making it so fucking difficult to leave this room and not just have your way with her. 
“I know I said, I will be an hour but I will try to make it quicker, and when I get back I expect you to be on this bed in the same position. If you are, I promise, you will get a reward, baby.” You tell her again, your hand gripping her chin and making her look you in your eye so she fully understands your words. 
“Yes daddy.” 
“Good girl.” 
You're out of the room before she can even stop you. 
---------------
You manage to drop your files off in record time and quickly find yourself hurrying back to your room.
You left the elevator, deciding to run up the stairs in hopes of getting to nat quicker and you weren't disappointed when you walked back into your room. 
Natasha was sitting on her knees in the middle of the bed, red lingerie clad on her body. Her head down staring at her hands on her knees. 
You felt your dick twitch in your boxers at the sight, god she was gorgeous. And she was all yours. 
“You're so good at following instructions baby.” Nat kept her head down as you spoke, just how you liked it. She knew not to speak if she wasn't asked too. 
You start to strip yourself down to your boxers and finally move over to her on the bed. 
You looked down at her and instantly noticed a dark red spot of her panties, your dick getting hard at the thought of her already wet when you hadn't even been here or touched her. 
“Look at me baby…good girl. I’m feeling nice so I’m going to let you decide on what your reward is, tell me what you want baby.” You ask her as you place her face into your hand. 
“I…I wanna ride you daddy…please” 
“Good girl with your manners…” You mutter back, your head leaning down and placing a soft, gentle kiss onto her lips, she whines in frustration as you pull away. 
“Get me ready for you then baby.” You tell her as you stand back up straight. Her body turning on the bed still on her knees, she reaches out for you, and pulls your boxers down. Your dick swinging up and hitting into your stomach. 
Natasha’s hand grips you firmly as she starts to jerk you off slowly. Her eyes full of mischief as she lowers her head and spits onto the tip of your dick, you groan in annoyance at her taking her time. 
“If you want your reward, you better hurry up, pretty girl.” 
Her mouth engulfs you fully at your words, a moan leaving your throat at how well she takes you. No one does it like her. She bobs her head up and down your shaft, her cheeks howling out as she sucks you off. 
You move to make a ponytail with her hair and help in pushing and pulling her on you, her own moans let you know she is enjoying it just as much as you are. 
Natasha keeps one hand around you while her other moves to fondle with your balls, you push her hard and faster onto you, her gagging fills the room and you can't take your eyes away from the droll spilling down her chin.  
Before you can cum too early you pull her off and push her to lay down on the bed, your eyes falling to her wet panties. You pull off her underwear, not caring about the sound of ripping. 
“So wet for me, aren't you? Desperate little slut.” 
Natasha’s eyes shine at your degrading words, her body squirming on the bed from needing to be touched.
You move to hover on top of her, your mouth latching onto her own, the sound of her moans have you fighting back the need to just pound her into the bed, she deserves her reward. She has been patient after all. 
Your thumb starts to circle her clit as your kiss continues, her hips jumping every time you press down harder, just as she goes to put her tongue in your mouth, you push two fingers into her and replace her tongue with your own. 
“So tight, fuck.” You pull away to look down, your fingers pumping in and out of her, her moans continuing to fill the room. 
Her chest is right in front of your face and you instantly latch onto her perky nipples. 
“FUCK! Ugh daddy, I’m gonna cum!” 
“You either cum now or you cum on my dick. You pick” You say into her lips as you tease her with your thumb on her clit again, her eyes rolling into the back of her head, you wait for her to cum but she manages to gain control to answer your question. 
“On your dick, let me ride you now!” You can’t say no to that. You pull your fingers from her and lay down on the bed next to her, not even caring at the fact your legs are hanging over the edge. 
Natasha jumps up in anticipation and throws her leg over your waist, her hand moving towards your dick, but your hand slapping hers stops her. 
“I didn't say you could touch.” You tell her sternly. Her eyes zoning back into submission as she hovers over you. You pull her down closer to you not giving her time to react as you fill her up straight away with your dick.  
“FUCK!” Natasha moans, her body tense at first as she lets you hold onto her waist and rut into her a few times. Before lowering your hips back onto the bed and pulling her flush against you. 
“Ride me baby.” Her hips start to move with your words.
You lay back with your hands behind your head as you let her do the work. Her hands take purchase onto your abs, her hips lifting up and down your length. Throaty moans continue throughout the room. 
Her head lulls back, with her eyes rolling into her head as she takes control, very rarely did she ever when you had sex but again even now she isn’t the one in charge. 
Her walls start to squeeze you tight, your own moans now filling the room as she pulls herself up until only the tip is inside of her and drops herself down to be full again. 
“Daddy, please touch me, can only cum when you touch me.” Natasha begs, if you weren't feeling so nice then you would have made her carry on without you but not today. You pull yourself up, rest back on one hand as your other takes hold of her arse cheek. You grip her tightly as you start to meet her hips. Her body leaning down into yours gives her a new angle. Your mouth moving to leave marks over her neck adding to her pleasure. 
“Gonna cum, can i cum daddy?”
“Cum pretty girl…” You meet her harder, your body leaning back to lay on the bed again, your hand moving to play with her clit as she screams your name while she cums. 
Her body slows down, her breathing fast as she lays still on your chest. Your dick still hard and twitching inside of her, the need to cum now in the front of your mind. 
You lift her hips and slip out of her and place her on her front on the bed. You're quick with getting behind her. Her head turns to watch as you pull her to sit on her knees, your body standing up at the end of the bed. Her back arching perfectly as she lowers the top half of her body onto the bed, your hand moving up to move her hair over her shoulder so you can see her face more clearly. 
“Gonna fill you up now, yeah? You want that?” 
“Shit, I want that so badly daddy, please fill me up!” Natasha practically cries as you fill her up again and start to move your hips inside of her, you start off slowly, wanting to build yourself back up again. Her hips push back as you lower to press kisses onto her shoulders. 
“Tell me how you want it baby, do you want it hard and fast or slow?”
“Hard and fast please, need to cum again.” You don't argue with her as you pull out to the tip and ram back into her, her moan broken with how hard you are continuously rutting into her. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Your chest moves to meet her back, your hips not ending your torture. Your hand slides up her chest and gives her boobs a squeeze and then to her neck, you grip her firmly and pull her back up along with you. 
Her back still perfectly arches as your hips meet her ass. 
Her hand squeezes her throat everytime she moans, cutting off her moans as you breathe deeply into her ear. 
“Such a good pussy, you're gonna milk me dry aint ya, you slut.”
“Daddy, gon cum…” 
“Wait for me!” You grit into her ear as you move your hips impossibly faster, the bed moving with how hard your thrusts are.
Her back somehow arches more, your dick reaching even deeper with the new angle, you have to keep focus on keeping up your thrusts as you come closer to the edge. 
“Cum, cum now!” You moan into her ear. Her body tenses and then spasms as she releases onto you. Her cum drips down your shaft and onto your thighs, her walls tighten and you bury yourself fully into her as you finally explode. 
“FUCK!” Your hips twitch, your body tense as she continues to grip you tightly. Her breath deep as your hips slowly twitch up into her, prolonging your high. 
You let go of her neck and slide your hands down to hold her chest. You stay inside of her as you lower the both of you onto the bed. 
Natasha goes to move her hips to let you slip out but your hands instantly fall to her hips and keep her against you. 
“We are not done yet, pretty girl.”
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nats-firefly · 2 years ago
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patience
natasha romanoff x reader
summary: Natasha’s been on a mission for weeks and when she finally shows up during finals season, she denies you the stress reliever you need until you’re all done
warnings: smut 18+, teasing, edging, reader is very NEEDY, fluff
a/n: another repost! my personal fav
🚩 warnings are clearly stated please do not report/flag :) 🚩
words: 5.4k | feedback is always welcome | masterlist
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“I thought the next time I’d get fucked, I would enjoy it more.” You said to your friend as you walked out of the lecture hall after a brutal final. She chuckled, looking ahead of her and turning to you. 
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, it seems like this celibacy streak is coming to an end.” She motioned her head to somewhere ahead of you and you turned to look that way.
There she was, Natasha. “I’ll catch up with you later.” Your friend said and you waved her goodbye without breaking your gaze.
Natasha was grinning from ear to ear, leaning against the side of her car, waiting for you. You practically ran to her, your arms immediately wrapping around her, and hers wrapping around your waist, squeezing you tight to her. Your hands found the nape of her neck, and hers slid down to your hips pulling you closer as you pulled away from her to look at her face.
“Now what’s that I hear about you getting fucked?” She said with a stupid grin on her face. You chuckled and before you could answer, her lips were on yours for the first time in weeks.
Natasha had been on a rather long mission for almost five weeks and you were starting to get desperate. Without her, the stress of finals and not knowing if she was okay just kept building up, and it’s not like she was there to relieve it.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to come back until next week,” you said, dipping your head into the crook of her next, kissing down from just under her ear lobe to her shirt collar. She tightened her grip on you and you turned your gaze back to her face.
“The mission ended early,” She said. “And I missed you.”
“Gross,” You said with a giggle. “I missed you too.”
You bit your lip, that’s not the only thing you missed. Natasha brought her hand up to cup you face and ran her thumb across your bottom lip, pulling it from between your teeth. Her eyes kept wandering your face, going between your lips to your eyes. You leaned in and kissed her again, feeling her hand sliding down to rest on your ass.
“C’mon, let’s go,” She said, letting go of you and turning to her car.  
“Where are we going?” You said, getting into her car.  
“My apartment, now that I’ve got you all to myself.” She grinned at you, starting the car.
Natasha had an apartment out of the Avengers compound. She started renting it after your two month anniversary fiasco. The two of you had been so loud, none of the other avengers were able to make eye contact with you for a month, oh and the making fun of the both of you after that, yeah that has yet to stop.
“As much as I’d love to give you my undivided attention, I have another final in three days,” You ended with a groan, sinking into the seat under you. “The most I can give you is a day.”
Your stomach automatically tied into a knot at the mere thought of your last and hardest final: CHEM 436. You still had a lot to go through. “Maybe twelve hours.”
Nat scrunched her face and looked at you as she took a sharp, unexpected turn, causing you to bump your head against the window. “I don’t want 12 uninterrupted hours, I want a lifetime.”
Your suppressed a grin as you felt your cheeks heat up. Looking out the window to hide your cheek, you noticed you were in front of your building. “Get your stuff.”
“Nat, as much as I want to ignore this final, and focus solely on you,” You turned towards her. “I really need to do well, my 4.0 depends on it.”
“I’m the biggest motivation you have, detka,” She said, leaning closer to your face so her lips were just hovering over yours. “I’m not going to touch you until after your final.”
You whined softly, giving her your best puppy dog eyes and jutting out your bottom lip. You tried very hard to hide just how turned on you were, you thought it worked but Natasha definitely noticed the way you thighs squeezed together and your breath caught in the back of your throat.
“That’s not gonna work this time,” she said grabbing your chin and shaking you head lightly before bringing it closer to her face and kissing your lips softly. “Now go get your stuff so we can go.”
“Nat please-”
“Nope.”
“Nat-“
“You’re not gonna change my mind.”
“Natasha.” You tried sounding stern but the way she was squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head was so adorable and you couldn’t take her seriously anymore.
“No,” She said, moving her hand from your thigh and turning the car off. 
You opened the car door with a huff, if you could only get her into your bedroom, you’re sure you could change her mind. You stopped and turned back to your girlfriend.
“Can you come with me?”
“Y/N,” She started. Did she know what you were trying to do?
“I have a strong girlfriend for a reason,” You said, determined to get her into your apartment. “Textbooks are heavy.”
Natasha tilted her head, squinting her eyes at you, trying to figure out if you had a plan in mind or if you just genuinely needed help. “Besides, I’m gonna need to pack some clothes, so it’s gonna take a minute.”
“Fine,” She said, unbuckling her seatbelt. You grinned and made your way out of the vehicle.
When you walked through the door to your apartment, your eyes scanned the key hooks for your roommate’s key and couldn’t see it. She was out of the apartment, just your luck. 
You quickly led Natasha to your room, sitting her down on the bed and immediately straddling her, crashing your lips together. You could tell she was caught off guard by the way her hands instinctively went to grip the back of your thighs. She moaned into the kiss, but quickly stopped your fun.
“I told you-” She started, but you interrupted her.
“Shh…” You moved your lips to the crook of her neck, leaving marks wherever your lips touched. Your hands went straight to the hem of her shirt, untucking it from her pants. That’s where she stopped you, flipping the two of you over so she had you pinned down. Again, you were turned on.
“Pack,” She kissed your neck, “Your,” Under your jawline, “Stuff.” And finally, your lips. She moved off of you and went directly to your closet, pulling the duffel bag you usually packed, and dropped it next to you on the bed.
“You’re no fun,” You said, propping yourself up on your elbows. 
“And you’re wasting time, Ms Twelve Hours,” She said, plopping herself back onto the bed as you moved to your dresser. You could feel her eyes following your every movement. Still, she missed you packing the all the pairs of panties you knew were her favourites. 
Half an hour after that, the two of you headed back to her car, Natasha carrying your textbook and binder in her arms and your backpack slung around one of her shoulders. You plopped your duffel bag into the trunk of her car, and she put your bag and books next to it.
Soon enough, you made it to her apartment. She placed your things on her desk while you dropped your duffel by the foot of the bed. Natasha then plopped down on her bed, closing her eyes with a huff. You could tell she was exhausted, the circles under her eyes a little darker than usual.
You moved to straddle the top of her butt, running your hands from the base of her back all the way up between her shoulders over the thin fabric of her t-shirt.
“What are you doing?” She mumbled through soft groans.
“You just came back from a five-week long mission,” You said, continuing to massage her back. “You’re exhausted and all of your back muscles are knotted and tense.”
“As good as this feels,” She moaned again, your hands moving lower down her back. “You have a final to study for.”
“This isn’t me trying to get in your pants, Natasha,” You said sternly. “Just let me take care of you for five minutes,” She hummed in agreement. “Take your shirt off.”
She hesitated before removing her shirt in one swift motion. “Oops, this might just turn into me trying to get in your pants.”
“Y/N,” She warned into the pillow. You could tell she was slowly falling asleep. 
“I’m kidding, I’ll be quiet,” You whispered. You kept working on her back and soon enough you could hear soft snores and even breaths coming from her. You kissed her shoulder lightly before slowly climbing off her and moving to her desk.
It was going to be a long three days.
When Natasha stirred awake, it was 3 am and you were tapping your pencil on the desk. All the lights were off in the apartment except for your desk lamp giving you just enough light to continue your studies. You had earbuds in, so you didn’t notice Natasha sneaking up on you, jumping a little when her hands started pressing on your shoulders, relieve some of the stress there.
“It’s three in the morning,” She said, pulling down one of your ear buds and leaning down to kiss just below your jaw. She sent chill down your spine and she noticed, silently smirking at the effect she had on you. “Go to bed.”
“Okay,” You said, pausing your music and closing your computer. You were exhausted. It wasn’t until you pulled down your leggings and heard Natasha’s breath catch that you remembered you were wearing one of her favourite pair of panties on you. You put them on after your shower while she was sleeping for this moment exactly. You smirked to yourself, revelling in the fact it had the exact effect you predicted. 
You proceeded to removing your shirt, turning around to face your girlfriend. “Something wrong?” She looked like she had been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to. It was hard to keep the smirk off your face. 
“N-no,” Natasha answered, clearing her throat and moving towards the bed, getting under the covers. “Are you doing this on purpose?”
“You know exactly what I want, Romanoff,” You said, unclasping your bra, never breaking eye contact. You put on the oversized shirt you use to sleep in and got under the covers next to her, your back pressed against her front. “Now it’s just a matter of time.”
Natasha pulled you closer to her, running her hands down the side of your body, lingering on your hips and playing with the thin lacy fabric of your underwear, before continuing on and draping her arm over your waist.
“I hope you know,” she whispered into your ear. “Your actions will have consequences.”
You turned around in her arms and gazed up at her with the most innocent expression you could muster. “Promise?”
Even in the dark you could see Natasha’s eyes get darker. Taking advantage of the moment, you snaked you hand behind her neck and pulled her towards you. Your lips crashing onto hers, her tongue automatically finding yours. Her hand drifting down to cup your ass and squeeze. It took every ounce of self control Natasha had to not rip the little clothing you were wearing off your body right that second.
“Oh, I’m counting on those consequences,” You whispered, kissing her lips once more. “Goodnight.”
Natasha was left breathless and flustered laying on her back that night while you passed out quickly, tired from studying all day. She knew she was being a little bit unreasonable, but she didn’t want to take time away from your studies, she didn’t want to be the reason you didn’t do the best you could on your final. She knew she had to wait, and oh would it be worth it in the end.
The next day was spent by you studying and stealing glances at your girlfriend who was either laying on the bed, reading a book, on her phone, cooking, or doing yoga. Every time you would look at her, she’d already be looking at you with a shit eating grin on her face that told you everything you needed to know about the thoughts running through her head.
Natasha got a phone call around 7 pm from Steve asking her to come into the compound to discuss interrogation and debrief the others. She left around 8 and when 2 am hit and you decided to go to sleep, she was still gone.
Nonetheless, you changed into your oversized shirt and another one of Nat’s favourite pair of panties and crawled into bed. The night was strangely warm for mid April, which had the blanket covering the least amount of skin as possible, you wanted Natasha to see you even if you weren’t awake.
When Natasha arrived it had only been an hour since you fell asleep. Your cheeks were flushed and the only light in the room was the dim light coming through the curtains from the street lamps outside. Her eyes immediately scanned up your legs, to your ass, the small of your back exposed by your shirt riding up and face pressed against your pillow.
Your legs were slight parted, only adding to Natasha’s lust. She quietly changed, barely taking her eyes off of you, thinking of all the things she will finally be able to do to you in a matter of days.
As the hours passed the next day, you got progressively more and more flustered. The main image running through your head when you allowed your mind to drift was Natasha’s flushed face moaning your name. 
You were taking a break, it was after dinner and you had been watching a show cuddled up to Natasha for about an hour now. You knew you had to go back to studying soon and as soon as that happened Natasha would start settling in, so you had to take this chance.
You started turning your attention to Natasha from the TV, getting consumed by her beauty. Those eyes, you could get lost in them for days. And oh how good it felt when they were half-lidded and focused on you. Your breath caught in your throat and you instinctively clenched your thighs together, hoping to get at least some action.
Natasha turned her gaze towards you at that action, breaking a smirk when she noticed you were already looking at her. “What are you staring at?”
Your lips curved up and you reached for her cheek, cupping it and pulling her face closer to yours, enveloping her lips in a slow, tender kiss. You felt her smile against your lips and the pressure building in your core only kept getting stronger as you turned your body onto hers and straddled her.
Natasha’s hands went to cup your ass and yours went around her neck, pulling her face even closer to yours. Your hips started grinding down on hers, and she let out a moan. 
Your lips kissed down her jaw then neck, leaving marks every time Nat would let out a soft moan. You could feel the wetness between your legs becoming more and more prominent. Natasha could also feel the way you were getting so wet for her on her thigh. Your hands travelled down her chest, and under her shirt, cupping her breast in your hands. Your fingers dipped into her bra and rolled one of her nipples between your fingers.
Natasha had you exactly where she wanted you. She wanted to get back at you for the little stunt you pulled a couple nights before. She had you so turned on and whiney right now, it would be a shame if she were to stop. Natasha raised her thigh pressing further against you, causing you to moan out in pleasure. You knew you could break her.
Just as you were finally going to move this further, Natasha held on to your hips and lifted you off of her. You whined in protest, your cheeks flushing red.
“I told you your actions would have consequences,” Natasha said, leaning in towards you as she climbed over you. She was there just enough to kiss you quickly. She got out of bed and put on her leather jacket, heading for the door.
“Natasha,” You said, sitting up on the bed, slightly irritated that she would leave you in the state. “Where are you going?”
“Compound, I have a debriefing in twenty minutes,” She said, putting on her shoes by the door. 
“You’re such a fucking tease,” You said walking up to her and cupping her face as she looked up at you from the small stool she was sitting on. You leaned down and kissed her lips, running your tongue across your girlfriend’s bottom lip. She pulled away from you as she stood up.
“I could say the same thing about you,” She said seductively, pecking your lips once more. “Don’t wait up.”
—-
Natasha only ended up coming back the next morning, mumbling something about being too tired to drive when the briefing was over. Your day went about the same way, studying while Natasha watched you. Her eyes always filled with lust as you went through your day.
At night however, you were ready to get back at her from yesterday. Your final was tomorrow and you had studied as much as you were physically capable. 
You and Natasha were watching a movie, legs entangled, your head resting on her chest and her arms around you. You once again found yourself getting distracted by her face, completely ignoring the movie playing behind your head.
“I recognize those eyes, (Y/N),” Natasha said, before turning her attention to you. “You know how that ended yesterday.”
You hummed as your hand going up to the first button on her shirt and undoing it. Before you could move on to the next button, she grabbed your hand, stopping your movements. You looked up at her innocently, and moved to kiss the newly exposed skin, never breaking eye contact. Natasha could feel the wetness spread between her thighs, she honestly wasn’t sure if she was gonna be able to hold her ground tonight.
You moved your leg to the other side of her body, and dipped your face into the crook of your neck, kissing up her jaw. “It doesn’t have to end like yesterday,” You sucked on the skin there, feeling Natasha tense up. “You know exactly what I want, Natasha.”
Nat grabbed onto your waist, her lips automatically attaching to your neck, sucking on the skin there before running her tongue over the mark she made. Your hands tangled into her red hair, slightly tugging on it as you released a moan. Just as Natasha was starting to actually break, her phone started ringing. She pulled away from you glancing at the caller ID: Steve. 
“Rogers?” She picked up, a little out of breath. If you let her cool off, she wouldn’t touch you until tomorrow after your final. You couldn’t let that happen, you needed some relief now. Suddenly, an idea popped into your head.
You started kissing down her jaw, leaving a couple marks on your way. You made eye contact with her as you started kissing down between her breasts, unbuttoning her shirt even further. You kept moving yourself lower on her body, her words started to run over each other, and she started stuttering into the phone. God she was such a mess for you.
When you got to the hem of her pants, her free hand tangled into your hair, tugging on it. You moaned lightly, this was going very well. You settled yourself between her legs and she let go of your hair, running your hands up and down her inner thighs.
Her eyes never left yours and she watched you have your way with her. She was clearly lost in your actions, you could hear Steve calling her name on the other side of the phone. 
“W-what? Can you repeat that?” She said into the phone, shuddering when you started kissing and lightly biting your way up her thigh to where you knew she wanted you most. Your arms wrapped around her thighs and pulled her lower onto the bed, causing her to gasp into the phone.
“Natasha, is everything okay?” You heard Steve’s faint voice come through the phone.
“Yes, keep talking,” She said, suppressing the airy moan threatening to spill from her lips.
You were now kneeling on the ground, Natasha perfectly positioned at the edge of your bed. You ran your thumb over her pants, pressing your lips over her sensitive core. Natasha’s heart was hammering in her chest, her eyes never leaving yours as you continued kissing her over her pants, trailing your lips over her then up her thigh and back. She bit her lip to suppress the moans threatening to escape.
As your fingers hooked around the hem of her pants, Natasha suddenly came to her senses and sat up. She cleared her throat, “I’ll be right there.” 
You halted your movements and sat back onto your heels, whining as you looked up at her. She tugged a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, trailing down your jaw and raising your chin so you would look up at her, “Nice try.”
“Natasha,” You said, placing running your hands from your knees to her hips, trying to stop her from standing up. “Stay, please.”
“I can’t,” She said, kissing you softly. “I have to go.”
Natasha started buttoning up her shirt and you moved off her, plopping yourself on the other side of the bed with a groan. Nat finished buttoning up her shirt and straddled you, leaning down and giving you a chaste kiss. 
“I love you,” She mumbled and you kissed her again, frustrated. “And don’t forget, you better not touch without permission.”
She winked at you as she climbed out of bed and headed to the door. This was going so well, but now your plan backfired - you were more sexually frustrated than you had been all week long. The only thing giving you satisfaction was the fact that you knew Natasha felt just as frustrated as you did.
The next day you woke up and the bed next to you felt cold, the other side of the bed empty. You looked over at your bedside table, seeing car keys and a yellow sticky note with Natasha’s perfect cursive handwriting on it. 
Left the car for you, I’ll be there after your final. You got this. Good luck, detka. Love you &lt;3
You felt your insides warm at the thought of your girlfriend. You didn’t let your mind wander though, otherwise you definitely wouldn’t be able to get through your final. You decided to take a shower before having some coffee and doing one last revision. 
On your way out, you pocketed the little yellow paper with the delicate lettering on it, feeling a little more confident with it close to you.
You left the lecture hall with a weight lifted off your shoulders. Finally, finals were over. You busied yourself looking for the keys to Natasha’s car as you walked towards the parking lot. You weren’t paying attention to where you were going so when two arms wrapped around your waist, you jumped but soon relaxed once you heard your girlfriend’s adorable giggle.
“How did it go?” She asked. You hands cupped her cheeks and brought her lips onto yours. You both felt each other’s desperation, as the kiss deepened and you had to pull away with flushed cheeks.
“Well,” You said breathlessly, running your thumbs over her cheekbones and biting your lip. “It went well.”
“Good,” She answered, settling her hands on your hips and pulling you even closer to her. “Because I told Steve to get lost for the rest of the week.”
“Why is that? Do you have something to do this week?” You asked innocently as she reached for your chin, pulling you towards her, so your lips were just hovering over each other.
“More like someone.” 
— (A/N: this is your last chance to leave before the sins™️)
The second the two of you walked through the door, you pushed Natasha against the wall, slamming your lips against hers and running your hands up her torso under her shirt. Your cold hands running over the soft skin on her torso, sending goosebumps down her arms.
Natasha’s hands immediately entangled themselves into your hair. You broke apart to catch your breath, as you continued to kiss down her jaw, then neck. As you were sucking a mark onto the skin, her hands started running down your body, but you immediately stopped touching her, taking her hands and pinning them on the wall above her head.
She released a breathy moan as you took one hand and tugged her shirt up, releasing her arms just so you could pull the shirt up all the way. “Keep them there.”
You kneeled in front of her, kissing down her stomach, then kissing either side of her hip bone on the hem of her pants. Your hands wandered down the sides of her body to rest on her hips, her hands coming down and taking their place in your hair once again. You abruptly pulled away, causing Natasha to whine in protest.
“I told you to keep them up,” You said as she gulped and put them above her head once again, biting back a smirk. You pulled her pants and underwear down at once, tongue immediately licking up her length to her clit, circling there. 
She threw her head back, her hips bucking into your mouth. You held her hips down with one hand, while the other hand trailed up her inner thigh and slid two fingers inside her wet core. You loved feeling how wet she got for you.
This wasn’t usually the dynamic, Natasha usually was the one taking the more dominant role. Even when you expressed to her that you wanted to be more dominant, she would end up taking over naturally. You honestly were surprised it lasted this long.
You pulled away from her clit, Natasha whining at the loss of contact. You stood up and connected your lips once again, allowing her to taste herself. Her arms came down from above her head and wrapped around you neck, deepening the kiss. You sped up your rhythm and Natasha’s back arched into you and off the wall, allowing you perfect access to her neck. 
“I-I’m- fuck,” She started, but was unable to finish her sentence from the loud moan escaping her lips. Her hands held onto your shoulders as you pulled one of her legs up to your hips, causing her to release yet another moan. You sped up your movements a little more, feeling her clenching around your fingers.
“Pl-please,” She moaned, your lips right by her ear.
“What do you want, malyshka? Use your words.”
“Let me cum,” You sped up your movements again, very briefly. “Please.”
You felt her tighten around you, so you quickly pulled your fingers away, sucking them clean, looking deep into her eyes. “You left me hanging for three entire days, when I needed you the most,” You kissed the corner of her lips as she tilted her head back, resting it against the wall, trying to catch her breath. “Did you really think I was gonna get you off that easy?”
When she looked back down at you, her eyes were significantly darker. Oh shit. She swiftly turned you both around, pinning you between her arms. “Are you done, printsessa?”
Now it was your turn to try to catch your breath. Natasha tuned your back towards the room and the two of you stumbled backwards until you fell onto the bed. Nat pulled your jeans off in one swift motion, before straddling you and running her finger under your shirt. 
“Off,” She said, eyeing you through her long lashes. You pulled your shirt over your head, “Bra too.”
You bit your lip suppressing the smirk trying to make its way onto your face. This, the feeling of pure bliss running through your veins, this is what you were waiting for. It’s been weeks.
Natasha’s hands roamed your chest, taking both your nipples between her fingers as she kissed back up your body. Her lips kissed all the way up your neck, making you release breathy moans, while your hands wrapped around her hair. 
You pulled her face to yours, her tongue automatically exploring your mouth. as her hand travelled down to your center, where her fingers ghosted up and down your inner thigh. 
“Natasha,” You moaned breathlessly.
“Yes, printsessa,” She whispered into your ear, her raspy voice sending chills down your spine. “Tell me what you want.”
“Nat- fuck- p-please,” You started, unable to form a coherent sentence. “Touch me.”
“Where, baby?” She started kissing down your neck, her hands kept up their motion, the intimate touches alone, leaving you a whimpering mess. “Here?” She asked, as she reached your nipple, running her tongue over it, then sucking on it.
You moaned, throwing your head back as a moan ripped through you. “Eyes on me, detka.” Natasha’s Russian pet names for you always came out when you were having sex, she knew it turned you on when she spoke Russian. She continued moving down your body, kissing down your stomach until she reached the hem of your underwear.
You specifically chose this pair today because you knew it was her all time favourite. She kissed along the hem of your underwear, biting your skin every few kisses. 
“N-nat,” You whimpered, looking at her as you tangled you hands in her red hair. “Please, I need you.”
Natasha smirked up at you as she hooked her fingers around the hem of your panties, and pulled them down. Her eyes sparkled when she saw how wet you got for her. She bit her lip as she leaned down between your legs, she ran here tongue up to your clit, sending electric shocks up your spine.
Her tongue circled your clit as your back arched off the mattress. You released a loud moan, as she stuck two fingers inside you, curling them into you. She circled her clit with her tongue once more before connecting her lips to yours once again. Her fingers sped up, causing you to moan into her mouth and tug on her hair a little harder. Natasha felt your walls tighten around her fingers. You pulled away from her, feeling your thighs start to clench.
“I’m close,” You moaned, bucking your hips into her hand. Natasha sped up her fingers for just a second so you were just standing on the edge, then pulled them out, putting them into your mouth. You whined at the loss of contact, but closed your lips around her fingers, tasting yourself. Natasha kissed you again before moving back down to between your legs.
Her tongue jutted into you, causing your back to arch once again, as you released another loud moan. You were sure the neighbours were gonna be mad. She put her fingers back inside you and your thighs clenched, squeezing her head between your thighs. She used her free hand to pull one of your legs open, sending another shockwave though your body. Your hips bucked, you were once again standing on the edge.
“Cum for me,” Natasha ordered before attacking your clit once again. You screamed out in pleasure, Natasha smirking against you as you rode out your orgasm. She came back up to your mouth, enveloping your lips in a sloppy kiss. “I missed you so much, malyshka.”
You kissed her once again, trying to catch your breath between kisses. Natasha laid down next to you, while you were distraught and panting next to her. You turned to rest your head on her chest, looking up at her and kissing the underside of her jaw.
“Let me make up for lost time,” You said, moving down her body, her hands entangling themselves in you hair as you started licking between her folds. It was going to be a long night.
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ravenromanova · 1 year ago
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Just one night
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Pairings: Natasha x Ex girlfriend reader
Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT!!!!!!! Mommy kink, fingering, oral, thigh riding, squirting, clit play, nipple play. DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDER 18+!!!!!!!!!!! (Fluff, Smut, Happy ending)
Masterlist - Send me requests!!!
~
From the moment you walked into the room her emerald eyes were on you. She drank in the way you looked in the black dress that clung to your body in all the right ways. You were obviously oblivious to her staring as you sauntered your way across the event. Luckily for her you both were forced to come to this event tonight since it was for the avengers.
Stark held a fundraiser for the team once a year so the team can get funding and make nice with the government officials. So fortunately for the redheaded assassin you were forced to be in close proximity to her for the evening. She watched as you walked to the bar chatting up one of the senators of new york. You smiled brightly at the older woman who was talking your ear off about god knows what.
Natasha waited a few minutes for the senator to leave before she walked up next you. “A vodka martini please” She said to the bartender causing you to turn your head in her direction.
”Hi darling“ Her smooth voice echoes through your ears. You could tell by the look on her face she had some kind of mischievous plan for the night.
“Hi tasha” You said as you took a sip from your cocktail and raised your brow to her. The sound of your voice instantly brought a smile to her face.
“Did you come here with someone?” She asked a little hesitantly as she sipped her drink.
“Do you really think id subject someone else to this craziness?” You motion to around the room that’s filled with your drunk teammates.
Natasha laughed a little at your statement. “Well i guess that’s true” She shrugged. “But at least we ran into each other”
“I have a very strong feeling that you planned to run into me” You responded with a smirk causing her to let out a breathy chuckle.
“Well i guess thats somewhat true. Maybe i just wanted to see my girl” Nat said taking a long sip from her drink.
“Last time i checked we broke up” Your words made her frown slightly. She recalled the day you two broke up and it made her heart break even more.
“Doesn’t mean you aren’t mine.” The words sent a chill down your spine and you softly smiled at her.
“Ever the charmer tasha. But im assuming you have something up your sleeve?” You asked and the redhead just smiled her devilish smile.
“More so a proposition” She started as she tapped her finger against the bar. “It’s been a while since i’ve uh been with someone. And i know from my many sources that you haven’t either. So my proposal is that for just tonight me and you forget about the reasons we broke up and just be together again.” Her words make you feel a a little dizzy as she speaks.
You take a few moments to process her words before you finally make a decision. “Just one night?” You asked raising your eyebrow at her before sipping your drink and then ordering another one.
“Just one night” She said sticking out her pinky so you know she’s serious. You smiled at her before you wrapped your pinky around hers.
That’s how you ended up here. Splayed out on her mattress in her room at the compound. Your clothes are partially removed as Natasha is leaving red marks on your neck and chest.
“God i’ve missed you” She admits kissing below your ear making you moan a little.
“Ive missed you too” You confess breathlessly as she moves to unclasp your bra. When her eyes land on your exposed chest her mouth instantly waters. Her lips them circle around your nipple and she starts to suck harshly loving the way you moan for her.
Natasha spends an ungodly amount of time playing with your nipples like she’s never played with them before… granted it’s been six months but it felt like a lifetime to her. So she spent extra time tweaking, pinching and sucking on them like she’s done many times before.
“Please mommy… i-i need you” You beg clawing at her smooth pale skin. Natasha chuckles at your lack of patience before she kisses down your stomach and stops and the hem of your panties.
“Oh kotenok how i’ve missed your begging” She says kissing along the hem of your panties before she slides them down your legs. Once she removes them she takes a moment to appreciate your dripping pussy thats on display for her.
“Fuck i’ve missed you” She continues her words of affirmation as she kisses you inner thighs lightly before diving into your core. Her tongue darts out passed her lips and she licks a stripe along your pussy causing you to mewl in response.
Natasha laps at you like woman starved and gets lost in the way you taste. Your hands fly to her hair and you hold onto her with a strong grip feeling the coil in your stomach build.
“Oh fuck yes mommy” You moan out feeling yourself get closer by the second. Natasha takes your moans as her sign to stick two of her thick and long fingers into you.
“OH FUCK!” You scream out as you feel her fingers fill you up. She smirks she sets a medium pace being careful not to hurt you. Her fingers graze the sweet spot inside and you end up on her fingers and tongue.
“God i love the way you taste baby” She praises bringing her fingers to her mouth and licking off your juices with a delighted moan. Natasha wasnt done with you yet though after she licked her fingers she went back to eat your pussy again.
Your back arched off the bed when she wrapped her lips around your clit and started sucking again. “OH MY GOD” You moaned gripping the sheets for support. Natasha just hummed in response getting lost in your sounds and taste. As she was eating you all you could think about was how much you missed her and never wanted this to end.
You two broke up amicably for multiple reasons the main one being the fact that there just wasnt enough communication. And with you two being Avengers the non communication turned into sloppy missions and arguments which led to the end. But in the end you both missed each other more than either of you wanted to admit.
“Cum for me detka” She said harshly sucking on your clit bringing you out of your thoughts. Her words along with a particularly harsh suck you ended up squirting all over the bed.
“O-Oh my god” You whisper breathlessly as you move the hair from your face. Natasha made her way back up to your face and gently cupped your cheek.
“Ive missed you so much” She whispers pulling you in for a passionate kiss. “I lied… I dont want this to be just for one night”
“Me neither” You confessed moving your hands to her waist and positioning her on your thigh. She raised an eyebrow at you before she got the hint and removed her clothes and sat back down in your thigh.
Your hands gripped her hips and you locked eyes with her and pushed her dripping core onto your thigh. She let out a breathy moan at the contact of your cool thigh against her warm core. Her hands went straight to your chest so she could have something to hold onto as she slowly lost her composure.
Natasha could feel her orgasm creep up on her as she grinded against your thigh. And when you tensed up your thigh under her she let go all over your thigh making you smile.
“Ive missed that” You say chuckling a little making her smile. She slowly got off your thigh and you marveled at the sight of her juices on your thigh. Once she laid down on the bed you laid on her chest as you tried to catch your breath.
“I want us to try again” She whispered in your ear as she kissed your head.
“We were already back together from the second you made your proposition” You confessed. Natasha smiled and kissed you again before she grabbed a towel to clean the both of you off. When she returned she cleaned you and then herself off before laying back down next to you.
“Sleep now my love” She whispered in your ear as well as wrapping her arms around you and bringing you closer to her as much as possible.
Soon you booth drifted off into a peaceful sleep. Yes there was still a lot to talk about but as for now you were going to relish in the bliss that is Natasha Romanoff.
~The end~
A/n i know this was kinda rushed but i really wanted to post something for yall so i hope you liked it :)
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deviouz · 2 years ago
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we need more about mean dom!nat pls
i think everyone could use a little more mean dom!nat in their life <3
“come on, sweet girl, tell mommy what you need. use your words, yeah?”
a whine escaped your parted lips, hips seeming to move and gyrate towards natasha’s fingers against your own free will. it felt as if you couldn’t get enough air in your lungs with the way you kept sucking in shaky, uneven breaths through kiss-swollen lips. the skirt of your sundress was pushed up and pooled atop your thighs and the kitchen counters as her fingertips delicately but purposefully traced intricate patterns and shapes along your inner thighs and clothed core. the scarlet lace you wore didn’t do much to hide how badly you needed her, and the half-smile your knowing natasha wore told you all you needed.
“nat,” you keened, head tilting ever so slightly to the left as she kissed along the crook of your neck up to your jaw.
the breathy moans started to become more frequent as her fingers pushed past the lace and danced along your slit, occasionally pushing to press against your clit.
“fuck,” natasha bummed at that particular expletive, “mommy, please, i-i need you—” a desperate whine cut off your sentence as two fingers sunk into your sopping heat.
“that’s it, my pretty girl,” natasha smiled, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, “just let mommy take care of you.”
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spaceycat · 3 months ago
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Natasha romanoff links pls, make her a boob person too please
UH. YEAH. SIGN ME UP.
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✰ Nat wanting everyone in the compound to hear you.
✰ Making out with Nat as she plays with your tits
✰ Riding Natasha's fingers.
✰ Giving Nat your fingers to destress after a mission.
✰ Natasha fucking you with her strap.
✰ Natasha eating you out after not seeing you for a week.
✰ Nat playing with your tits while she rides you.
✰ Rubbing your pussies together.
✰ Eye contact with Nat.
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