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babbygirlblues · 10 months

Text

Perfect Timing

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Request | Prompts

Warnings: Jealousy | Meddling / Pushy Men |

Smut: Cuffs | Tribbing | Fingering | Oral | Choking

Word Count: 5,250 Words

Natasha hated Tony Stark, she decided this with finality as she left the medbay in a huff. Normally she'd flip the man off at the mention of another party, but apparently this one was a mission in disguise so she hadn't a choice.

——

Then she'd usually make her way up to her room, and after about five minutes she'd slip across the hallway and into yours. You guys weren't exactly hiding your infatuations.

Natasha didn't care if people knew, she just cared if they commented about what didn't concern them. Her love life at the top of that list. The concept was foreign to her anyways. These feelings she had were new, only ever roused by the likes of you. The pretty agent from Shield with the heart of gold who by some stroke of luck for her now lives as an Avenger.

All she wanted was a warm mug of tea, a good book, and you in her general vicinity. There didn't even have to be a discussion, just the occasional brush of hands, and tender glances.

There was still an unspoken tension, but it was bearable. Natasha wasn't ready, you could see that, and you'd never push her to be. You knew that when she was ready you'd be together, and that was enough for you. As it was for her.

This time as she entered your room she found you sat in front of your vanity. Getting ready for the stupid party that interrupted her plans. You'd continue your routine, not even sparing her a quick glance back, you knew who it was.

The musky whiff of sandalwood that blew your way as the door slammed shut proof enough.

Natasha huffed, "Life isn't fucking fair." She fell back on your mattress and kicked her feet. Mussing up your perfectly made bed like a child throwing a tantrum. You giggled as you looked over at her, nose scrunching in defiance when she glared at you. It was truly heatless.

"Welcome home Natty," you greeted, looking into her eyes as you leaned over the edge of your bed while sat in your rolling chair.

Natasha gazed up at you with a pout, it was deep and adorable. You wanted to peck it away. But you controlled your urges and instead offered her a comforting hand on her cheek.

A deep exhale left her as your finger drummed against her temple rhythmically. Her eyes slowly fluttered shut and she smiled. Your heart warmed at the perceivably unusual sight.

It was a new norm for you, but one you knew came with special privileges. Because no one else would ever see The Black Widow herself behaving like this. There was no doubt that she was tough, but what she loved most, was that with you she didn't have to be. She could be lazy, goofy, or sickeningly soft without fear of ridicule, or your perception of her changing.

"Wanna tell me what's got you upset honey?" Natasha bit her lower lip, anxiety inspiring her to nibble on it as she thought up a response.

"I wanted to watch a movie with you," she admitted softly. "But now we have to party."

"Oh Natty," you cooed, something she'd see as condescending from another, but never you.

"It'll be over in no time, then we'll clean up and watch Bond movies until you can't keep your pretty eyes open any longer." You kissed her forehead tenderly, soft lips lingering there until you heard her sigh, "Okay, I'm on board."

"Wait." Your brows furrowed, and you began to look over the redhead with determination. Nat grabbed your chin, raising your gaze as she looked up at you with a smile. "Just a couple scrapes and bruises, I'll be okay to attend."

There was no way in hell she'd send you to one of Tony's parties alone. You were too special. She wouldn't dare risk leaving you to his snobs.

Plus, this one came with increased dangers that indeed supersede the typical horny rich man.

"Are you sure?" You asked, panic evident. Her eyes glimmered as you rambled on like crazy, "Because you can just stay up here. It's a quick intel mission, Tony gave me that dress there to wear. Said that I'd be tonight's extractor."

Natasha followed the point of your finger to see a red dress, if you could even call it that. The dip of the neckline was steep and left no room for imagination as it ended over your abdomen. The same went for the slits running up the side that only came to a stop where your panty line would normally be, but she knew it wouldn't.

There was no way she'd trust you'd be safe.

"It's okay love," she replied, "Tony said I had no choice, so I'm going to change real quickly, then I'll be back to see you all dolled up."

"Since when do you listen to Tony?" Natasha chuckled from the doorway, "Never, but when it comes to being with you I'll never pass that up, so I don't have any rebuttal to offer him."

Natasha's shoulders slumped as soon as she left the safety of your room. Wanda snorted, "God, you're both incredibly transparent."

"Bite me, little witch!" Wanda giggled, "I'm okay, seems like a job more suited for Y/N."

Natasha flipped her off and then slipped into her dark room with an annoyed huff. It upset her greatly whenever the team would draw attention to her feelings for you. All she wanted was to cherish this easy label-free phase before it became something real and in turn serious.

Not that she isn't serious about you, she is head over heels for you, but for now, she's enjoying the lack of pressure she's under with you.

The woman moved swiftly through her closet, annoyedly looking for something to wear, but nothing really appealed to her though as her mind was distracted by thoughts of you.

"You should pick the red bralette and the grey slacks, they make your butt look perfect." You don't know why you said it, but you did, and now you felt overtly exposed as your unfiltered pervy thoughts had come flying right out.

Natasha hummed in amusement, "Oh yeah?"

Now you were left to stammer, "Mhm, I mean you look gorgeous in everything Natty, I didn't mean to offend you or anything." The redhead turned to you with a teasing smirk, equally as teasing words on the tip of her tongue, but they instantly wiped away as she saw you fully.

Her heart beat wildly in her chest at the sight of your exposed skin. You were positively gorgeous, and she was devilishly gazing.

Here you were apologizing to the woman you'd been flirting with for years, about your correct commentary, and here she was ogling you like you were a piece of cake. Fuck, you looked hot.

The silence you were met with only made you more nervous. "Oh God, I hope I didn't."

"Hey, don't overthink it," she teased while making her way over to you. Her strong hands naturally found their way onto your body, one of them fell to your waist as the other danced over the skin of your bare arm, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps in their tantalizing wake.

"I-I, um, stand by my words then," you stuttered, while your nervous hands picked at her shirt making the redhead smirk at your new shyness. Craving this eternal proximity.

"Why's that?" You grinned childishly. "Because then at least this way we can match Natty."

God, you were so adorable. Natasha was hardly able to keep herself from pouncing, she'd been fantasizing about taking you for so long now.

The way you looked at her as if she was the most important person to you didn't help. It was suffocating, really, but she didn't mind. Nobody had ever looked at her that way before, and she's thrilled that the first to was you. She also hoped you'd be the one, and only to do so.

The idea of matching with you was emotionally charged. Like you belonged together and you were publicly, but silently claiming it. Even if you had to chat up some pretentious guy as she only watched from a distance on standby.

"I'd like that," she admitted with flushed cheeks, the both of you now painfully aware of the need for space lest you miss the party.

"So you'll wear the grey slacks?" Natasha nearly burst into laughter at the eagerness you wore so proudly on your face. "Well, I'm not sure detka, because, I only need the red to match you, I can wear my black pair. They are more comfortable." She chose to mercilessly tease you instead of confirming the other.

"Uh, okay," you shrugged, then scurried on out of her tight grasp. "I'll be waiting for you at the end of the hallway Natty. Be quick please, I don't want to hear Tony's complaining."

You didn't want to seem like a total perv, even if for a brief second you were being one. You wanted to respect her choices, boundaries are important, so you left before anything could happen. Mistakenly so too, Natasha wanted you to force her into the grey slacks yourself after fucking her until she went dumb.

It was just an inappropriate fantasy. Just like all the others she's had. You were both pervs. Don't get her wrong, she knows you have it in you, but she'd never let you top the first time.

Natasha took a second to shake the budding disappointment away, and then a smile overtook her face as she thought about how cautious you always are with her. Most people have no problem telling her how they perceive her, whether that be in a gross, oversexualized manner, or a macho-esque, "I'm a man, therefore I'm better" way. Both usually ended the same, with the perpetrator on the ground coddling their bruised egos as well as groins.

But you were considerate, rarely ever bold, more so a shy flirty mess of a human being. Natasha adored it, especially knowing that it came from a genuine place, and was not purely driven by lust. Hardly actually. Though she did see the way you looked at her during training or missions, and it's one of the rare times that she actually craves such devious attention.

Which is why she made sure to slip into her red bralette, and her grey slacks for you. She then spun around, smirking as she checked out her behind, now understanding what you meant. Her ass looked phenomenal, as to be expected really since she never missed leg day, the thin fabric formed perfectly to her plump behind.

To embelish the otherwise simple outfit the redhead threw on a few silver rings, along with a silver chain with a rose emblem that fell just above the arrow she never took off. She smiled as her fingers ran over the small grooves of the red charm, you'd gotten this for her the past February, not on Valentine's Day, but the day after when you, her, and Wanda spent the day out as gal pals, indulging in half-price treats.

It was perfectly placed. A bit closer to her heart than the other, and she reasoned that was fair because she loved Clint wholeheartedly, but it's you afterall who truly held the claim to her.

After a swift tossing of her hair into a low bun, and a quick moisturizing of her face, and lips she made her way out into the hallway to find you faced away staring out over the banister. Nervously fiddling with the strings of the faux vines Tony had oddly placed for decor. As the redhead approached she began to catch on to the why, and she almost wanted to thank the annoying man for the sweet gesture.

In an attempt to bridge the gap in bold moves tonight the woman found herself pressing your body into the banister with her very own. Trapping you, but as she'd hoped, you relaxed just as soon as you could smell the earthy tones of her cologne. "What's troubling your mind?"

Her arms that had been loosely caging you in, with hands on either side of the banister now wrapped around your waist in a comforting hug. She slowly swayed you to the faint sounds of the music coming from the room holding the party while she waited for you to find a response. "I'm nervous Natty, I don't want to fail the mission. What if he doesn't like me?"

The unfavored question caught her off guard in a multitude of ways, as if his attention actually mattered for anything other than the mission.

But what really got to Natasha was that you'd genuinely sounded insecure. It was like you didn't actually see you were the most beautiful person here tonight. It was disheartening.

Natasha gently turned you to face her, with your back now pressed into the railing as she held your body protectively against hers to keep you safe. She wanted to quell your fears, but she needed you to really see her, so you could feel the honesty. "You're overthinking it again Y/N, nobody with a lick of sense would be able to find something wrong with you."

Natasha cradled the left side of your face in her hands, eyes abounding with adoration as she cherished this rare moment without the usual disturbance. "You're beautiful, that's a given, one smile is going to be enough to melt that entire room." The redhead paused, admiring the way that your frown slowly melted away, giving proof to her claim as her heart skipped.

"But what really sets you apart, and enhances that beauty is your heart that shines brighter than the physical. I promise you that he'll be enticed by you just as soon as we descend."

You were nearly on the verge of tears as you saw the truth never wavered in her eyes, it wasn't a fronted approach to make sure you were mission ready. Natasha meant every word, and though you knew of her feelings deep down, it was finally nice to hear it. Albeit in an indirect way, it was sort of reassuring.

"Shall we go then?" Natasha's heart melted as your smile exuded a bit more confidence, she cleared her throat and took a step back to offer you her bent arm. "We shall milady." You giggled and scrunched your nose as you slid your arm through hers, and laid your head on her shoulder. Her heart stuttered but she played it cool, the nerves weren't harrowing.

The party was booming when the two of you stopped outside of the doors, Natasha felt you tense momentarily so she pulled your front to hers and hugged you tight. "You've got this in the bag Y/L/N, get the intel, then we'll steal some booze, and hors d'oeuvres, then slip out." She placed a sweet kiss on your temple, then ushered you into the party before she made her grand entrance not even a minute later.

Her eyes instantly searched for you, the innate need to ensure you were safe had the you-induced fluttering of her heart ceasing. When her emerald eyes found you she saw you'd already met with the young man, as she turned her coms on she heard Tony mention his name was Dewayne. He was handsome enough she supposed, in a red suit that nearly mirrored your dress. The thought alone of you being paired with another made her mood sour.

Dewayne was clean-shaven and well-versed, he even offered you a warm smile, but she saw right through his act. She wasn't exactly sure of his ties, the mission wasn't discussed in detail, but she knew that whatever his intentions were with you, they were unwelcomed and devious.

"So, Dewayne, how are you finding your first Stark party?" The man sipped on his scotch before offering you a thoughtful hum and a near-terrifying grin. "With you at my side, I'd say well." He paused, looking you over before his gruff voice reemerged, "Dare I say perfect."

You nearly threw up on the man as he laid a hand on your shoulder, but you kept your true feelings at bay in favor of a successful mission, and giggled flirtatiously, "What a charmer."

His responding smile was smug in nature, and Natasha wanted to wipe it right off of his face, and as your conversation continued she felt the jealousy steadily building. It was manageable until the man got a bit too handsy with you.

Tony had just given you the all-clear, saying that the information they needed to collect from his neglected belongings was secured. Natasha ignored the fishy nature of Tony's tone as she saw Dewayne press you into the bar with absolutely no regard for the way your body froze, or for how a grimace overtook your face.

In that moment she undoubtedly saw red, and before she could reign her reactions in she was yanking his arm from your waist, and spinning him into the bar, with a hand wound in his hair she slammed his face into the bar, then again into the bowl of complementary lemon wedges.

Dewayne cried out at the sting now prominent in his eyes, the sound only intensified as the cracking of his fingers could be heard. He'd tried to get out of her hold, but it was of no use, he was a couch potato, with a fast metabolism from Jersey, and she was a deadly trained assassin with enhanced genetics from Russia.

He simply couldn't compete, where he'd never begin to compare. Leading Natasha to begin to piece together the fishiness of this mission. It made her livid to think that someone, Tony, felt she was so incapable of making the move eventually that he had to make it his priority.

Wanda sipped her drink, suppressing her giggle as she saw Tony's face fall in silent understanding, that was going to cost him a lot of money. "This is what you get for meddling Stark." She offered him no more than that as she walked away, he was a billionaire after all, the hospital bill and proper compensation wouldn't even put a dent in his accounts.

Had he not hired such a douche, he'd be fine.

Wanda's heart soared though as she knew that you and Natasha, her besties, would finally be passed this unbearably long mutual pining phase and hopefully into a relationship.

Meanwhile for you, everything had happened so fast you believed yourself to be experiencing whiplash, one second you're lazily flirting with a perp, then you're listening to the sickening crack of that very man's nose and fingers, and then the next you're being tossed haphazardly into the woman of your affections bedroom, to now end with your body pressed into her door.

"Natasha," you whimpered softly as her body kept you painfully pressed into the doorknob, your body ached, a dull throb in your back keeping you from enjoying the joy that stems from the incoming promise of pleasures.

No matter how many times you called for her she ignored you, she was lost in her anger, and after a moment of listening to her ramblings you got the gist of what took place. So you let her go on, but with every angry word she'd mutter, she would pull you in just to push you back harder into the knob. Abusing your poor body without any true malicious intentions.

"I don't see why people can't mind their fucking business," she sneered, her fingers curled even tighter around your hips and you yelped. "Who does that pretentious twat think he is? Paying someone to harass my girl."

"Natty please," you cried again, "That hurts."

Her eyes widened fearfully at the idea of hurting you, she tried to step away, but you held onto her forearms and shook your head to keep her there. Natasha's guilt instantly settled as she saw the needy look in your eyes, she shifted you, then pressed her body against yours, this time with your comfort in mind.

The tension was palpable now that her focus had shifted to you wholly, her eyes that were focused in on yours sparkled and she reveled in the feel of your subtle squirming against her. Your breathing was growing labored and hers had remained surprisingly calm. Natasha knew she had you right where she wanted you when your eyes closed and nails dug into her arm.

"You know you're mine right detka?" Her nose brushed against your cheek, and she smirked when you tried to take the chance to kiss her. "If you'll let me baby, I'll prove it to everyone."

The woman didn't wait for you to respond, her lips faintly pressed against yours, and your needy whimper told her that was the right call.

"Do I have your permission then detka?" You weaved your hand into her hair, and guided her face into the crook of your neck. "Prove it."

Natasha smirked against your skin, then she purred, "Gonna look even prettier with my marks." Then she let her overwhelming urge to claim you take over as she began to mark you.

The need had always been there, but she'd never felt threatened before. She needed to make sure that nobody else in the compound ever questioned your status as hers again. To make it clear, so anyone who looked in your direction could see her claim, the widow's bite.

While you leaned into the feeling of her lips finally being on your skin you became a bit of a whimpering mess. Each noise different as she purposefully switched up her method with each bruise she left. Her teeth adding a variety of edges to the marks where she'd nibble over skin she'd previously suctioned her lips to.

Then all at once she became impatient, and spun your bodies around so she could get you undressed and beneath her. It was a blur of articles, between hers and yours, but the dress was removed with a care that told you just how much she appreciated seeing you in it tonight.

"You're so fucking perfect," she gawked at the sight of you bare, and spread out on her sheets. It was everything she expected, a picture of beauty, and somehow it was also more with the way your thighs glimmered with your essence and your collarbones were littered in bruises.

The moment needed to be vividly imprinted onto her mind, she had no doubt it would star in her dreams tonight, but she needed more. Something tangible, so without much thought she grabbed her polaroid camera, and to her delight you spread your legs and fondled your breasts, giving her a show worthy of capturing.

However, as she settled the copious amounts of film down onto her bedside table she found herself growing unfairly jealous. Seeing you play with your breasts, pulling moans from the depths of your soul as your thighs rubbed together made her feel inadequate. As if you were going to just get off on your own, when she was standing right there to assist you.

"Detka, I said you're mine," she purred, your eyes fluttered open as her body weight settled atop of yours. The feel of her slick on your stomach had you jonesing to get your hands on her, but before you could even try she had yours pinned above you. "So don't touch."

The feel of the cooled metal as she secured you to her bedpost was both a relief, and a curse. It was soothing to your overheated skin, sure, but it put up an unnecessary barrier between your bodies. All you wanted was to hold her close, and make her feel just as good as you knew she was about to make you feel. Natasha had plans though, and you wouldn't ever question them.

For a moment the redhead just stared into your eyes, a silent conversation being had as she was genuinely gauging your comfort. It was clear as your hips canted, pushing her up as your body rolled that this move wasn't concerning you but only leaving you desperate and at her mercy.

So, without any patience remaining she was moving down your body. Lips feverish as they found yours, and her hands equally as crass as they groped your abandoned breasts. Natasha ground her hips into yours on pure instinct, and caused the kiss to momentarily break as you both moaned into the other like whores.

Natasha rubbed her wet folds against yours again, testing the waters, and you shivered affectedly. Her tongue caressed yours, feeling the vibrations of your moans as she picked up a steady pace, smearing your wetness together until the both of you were screaming in bliss.

The prior kiss was already passionate, but now as you both continued to grind against one another in search of prolonged pleasure it had become expectantly sloppy. At this point it was really just tongues laying atop of one another as the two of you panted and came back down.

"You're so alluring," she whispered, her lips now trailing over your jaw. "I have never been so desperate before, jealousy is beneath me." Her rough hands contradicted her words as they possessively tightened around the skin of your hips. They'd been slowly moving down from their previous place on your breasts in an inconspicuous, but truthfully devious manner.

"But when I saw that man," Natasha paused, pulling back to look into your eyes, her tone mocking as she sneered his name, "Dewayne."

She looked pissed, you'd seen her this way before, but never towards you. This still wasn't aimed at you, but you couldn't help but shiver as she went on. "With his grubby hands on you, I could see it in his beady eyes that he thought you were his to take. As if he wasn't hired to lure me in to collect what was mine all along, and well, to effectively doom Tony's fate."

"Natty, I," you went to apologize for your delayed reaction to his advances but she shushed you with a kiss. "Don't apologize, it's not your fault that these men are clueless."

You giggled softly, the redhead smiled at you adoringly, but you saw the glint in her eyes, and felt the way her hand traveled much lower. She then chuckled when your lower body caught on, she could feel your legs trembling against her own that were straddling yours.

"It's okay though detka, because you're going to give them a refresher," she teased, a nimble finger slid through your drenched slit, your collected juices covered her digit in seconds.

"Natty please," you begged, and she grinned. "Yeah, like that detka, just louder, yeah?"

Two fingers slowly entered you a second later and you felt like you were going to combust. " You feel so good detka, fuck, I've wanted to have you like this for so long," she grunted her truth into your shoulder as she slowly thrusted her fingers into you, fighting against the way your walls tried and failed to still her moves.

Natasha smirked down at you. "Tell me how it feels. It doesn't hurt does it?" You could only mumble a labored, "Full," as you shook your head while slowly becoming accustomed to the unfamiliar stretch from her fingers.

Natasha chuckled, "Do you feel good though?"

You nodded with a loopy smile. "So good."

Natasha hummed softly as she kept up the steady pace of her veiny fingers, you were melting even further into the mattress as she relaxed your body. It was clear how much you trusted her, and with every flutter of your wall, she could feel just how much you wanted this.

It was heartwarming to see the relaxed smile, but it was also arousing when small moans slipped through your lips, she was desperate to increase the tenacity of your reactions at all costs. "I'm gonna do the type of things that happen in your dreams." You gasped as her fingers suddenly wrapped around your throat, it was a featherlight touch but you could feel the scalding burn of arousal bubbling over.

"You're the star of them after all," you actually managed to whisper with a teasing grin that she wiped away with the curling of her fingers.

"Oh fuck," you mewled as your body writhed, missing the look of shock on the redhead's face as she peered down at the way your slick had just gushed around her fingers and onto her bed. Her fingers slid from you without struggle, and wetness followed, trying to escape into the fabric of her sheets but she was quicker as she replaced the digits with her eager tongue.

Natasha lapped up every last bit of your intoxicating arousal, and then some until she was reaching your depths causing you to scream out a series of expletives as pleasure coursed through your body all over again. It left you pathetically gasping for air, your vision spotted with flashes of black and white dots.

"I've never tasted something so," Natasha paused, voice labored from a need she satiated with another long lick up your slit. "Sweet..."

She noticed the way you had failed to reply, body only offering her a twitch of your hips so she peered up to find your eyes shut tightly. It filled her with a sense of pride to already have you so pliable, just totally brainless for her. So much so you didn't even register her moving.

When you opened your eyes you flinched at the sight of the woman hovering your face. There was little to no green left in her irises, she looked near crazy as she seductively licked her slicked-up lips clean before offering you a delighted grin. You instantly felt hot under her intense stare, in the prior moments you had overwhelming bliss to tamper your nerves, but now you were on full display beneath an actual goddess and felt like you needed to escape.

"You're so adorable. Aww, don't hide your face." Natasha pulled your attention back from beneath the side of the pillow where you'd tried to burrow. "Don't cover up."

"You are intimidatingly beautiful," you huffed and the redhead cackled before softening at the sight of your frown. She kissed you slowly, and you melted into the affection without a single rebuttal. "Tell me what you need sweetheart."

Natasha patiently waited for you to give thought to her words as she began to mark up the skin of your throat, an over-the-top attempt to continue claiming you. As if the entire compound didn't know that you were off the market the moment she took you from the faux mission, or before. It didn't hurt to gloat.

"I-I want to touch you too," you croaked, "Please remove the cuffs Natty..."

The redhead thought it over, you'd been so good for her thus far, letting her possessiveness run its course instead of being put off by it all.

With a tender touch designed for only you in mind she unlocked the metal, lifting your sore wrists up to her lips where she'd place a wet, soothing kiss just before taking the initiative to settle your hands over her breasts. "Touch all you want detka, I'm yours just the same."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #not mine

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babbygirlblues · 10 months

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...like an arrow to the heart 🏹💘

morning shenanigans.

pairings: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

n.r masterlist | navigation | n.r one-shots masterlist

summary: you and natasha spent the morning making “love” while other people were awake.

warnings: rough sex, dirty talking, daddy kink, natasha being a little needy, pet names (sweetheart, slut, whore, etc), talks about anal sex, and more - 18+ MINORS DNI.

author’s note: just a little fic in my head that i wrote lol enjoy cx

Keep reading

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x yn #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff smut #not mine

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babbygirlblues · 10 months

Text

mood bruh

just came to say i love natasha romanoff 🫶🏼

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babbygirlblues · 10 months

Text

🔥🔥🔥

pure fire

quiet, little one.

pairings: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

n.r masterlist | navigation | n.r one-shots masterlist

summary: your boyfriend was blipped and you had been living alone with natasha romanoff for five years, until she made a move on you that you could never oppose.

warnings: rough sex, g!p natasha, dirty talking, daddy kink, face slapping, pet names, breeding kink, unprotected sex, cheating, natasha being a little pervert, dark!natasha, and more - 18+ MINORS DNI.

author’s note: i liked this very much

Keep reading

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x yn #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff smut #not mine

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babbygirlblues · 1 year

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Y/N, about Natasha: She’s a good friend.

Tony, an intellectual: You’re in love with her.

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babbygirlblues · 1 year

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Gahhhh!!!

NO cause I would literally faint then die if this were me! I wish…. 🫠

Hoodie

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 1.3K

Summary: Someone stole your favorite hoodie.

AN: I had this cute little idea for an au. So here it is! Natasha in a hoodie is still one of my favorite looks of her.

You had been looking everywhere for your favorite hoodie for over an hour but it seemed like it disappeared from the face of the earth. The last time you saw it was a couple days ago when it laid on your desk. You were sure of it. Nothing but an old nirvana t-shirt and purple hoodie that Kate forgot was on your desk. Continue looking for your hoodie would only waste more time so you decided to visit your best friend who lived a couple blocks away.

You quickly threw on a pair of vans and a jacket, grabbed your keys and left your tiny apartment with frustration. The 10 minute walk to the Avengers Tower helped you calm down but still were super bummed that your favorite hoodie was now gone. At the Tower you had to go through security before getting on the elevator up to the lounge where your best friend Yelena was most likely chilling. Steve and Bucky were the only ones there though.

"Hey guys!" You greeted them with a friendly smile. "Has any of you two seen Yelena?"

Bucky shook his head, which you expected since he and Yelena barely saw each other anyways. "I'm sorry, Yelena just had gone out with Kate and Peter I believe." Steve told you. You nodded sadly, thinking about if you should call her to meet up with them or not. "Natasha is in her room though." You blushed at the mention of the red head. Cap and Bucky were the only people who knew of your crush on Natasha. They constantly gave you the chance to be closer to her which was super sweet of them. You mumbled a small thanks before making your way towards her room which was a floor below.

You were so busy with your thoughts that you forgot to knock, you busted right into her room where she was talking to someone or rather something. She talked to her phone, it looked like she was either filming herself or being in a video chat. "Ohh.." You felt the heat of guilt and embarrassment in your face. "I'm so sorry. I should have knocked first."

She turned her head around when she heard your voice, also starting to smile at the sight of you being in her room. You returned a shy smile back to her, trying hard not to show any signs of the crush you have on her. Natasha waved you in before you could make up your mind to just leave her alone. You quickly closed the door behind you before you rushed to her side. Then you finally saw what she was doing, filming something on some app you don't recognize. "Is that TikTok?"

Natasha snorted, "It's actually Instagram." The information of her using Instagram was new to you and also kind of surprising. "You should actually know that since you know... you have an account there."

"Oh honey, just because I have an account doesn't mean I have the app on my phone and use it." The words just came out of you before you could even realize what you were about to say. Nat fully turned her body to you, your eyes immediately took her full form in and that's when you realized that she was wearing your clothes. She was wearing your favorite hoodie, the one you were looking for all this time. How it landed here with her was beyond you. "Like what you see?" She teased you as she caught you starring at her.

"T-that's my hoodie." She looked down her own body, then looking back up into your eyes with slight confusion. "You're wearing my favorite hoodie right now. I was looking for it all day Tasha!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it was yours." She apologized. "I stole it from Yelena's room thinking it was her's or Kate's."

"Cука!" You muttered to yourself. It made perfect sense that Yelena stole it, she was the last one visiting you in your apartment a day or two days ago.

Natasha grinned at you, she liked that you cursed her sister in their mother language. "Here let me give it back to you." She took off your hoodie in one swift motion and now stood in front of you in a bra. You were shocked that she was confident and comfortable enough to stand there so exposed. After the shock was over you tried your best not to look at her boobs, so your eyes wandered around her room. When you looked to her desk you saw her and yourself on the phone screen. That was when you realized that it was still recording, you shyly step in front of her phone to cover the camera with your back. "You're still recording." You told her with a hint of uneasiness in your voice. Her eyes suddenly became big. "Oh shit.. Y/N I'm not recording anything, I'm live on Instagram!" The panic was written all over her face.

"Good thing you don't have many followers to tune in.. right?" You ask her cluelessly. She huffed, she would have loved your innocence about social media if it were for a different situation that didn't include exposing herself half naked to the world.

"Detka, I'm an Avenger." She stated. You nodded, "Wow! Who would have thought!" The sarcasm and teasing was dripping from you. "So what?" Natasha sighed, she was getting tired of this situation. "Turn around and look at the upper right corner." You did as you were told to do, there in the corner was a tiny viewer count saying 50K and it kept growing by each second. Only then you realized why Natasha reacted the way she did. "How do you end this live thing??"

Natasha noticed your now new panicked state and found it quite amusing. "You gotta.. uhm.. on the right.. wait let me just.." She stepped behind you and pressed her body into yours, hiding her half exposed body from the world. You felt her arms brushing against each side of your body, trying to navigate her way to end the livestream. With every movement she made you felt her boobs, that were pressed against your back, even more. Warmth spread through your whole body and you start to panic since you couldn't control yourself anymore. Don't say anything stupid. Don't say anything stupid. Don't say anything stupid. You constantly told yourself.

Both of you sighed in relief when you saw that the livestream had ended. She leaned her forehead against your shoulder for a second before taking a step back and turning you around by your waist. "You could have returned my hoodie later." Natasha continued to stare at your face, only meeting your gaze from time to time. "How come you forgot that you were live?"

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, her gaze returned to yours, her green eyes looked into your y/e/c ones softly. "I got distracted." Nat admitted. You raised your left eyebrow, not getting what would distracted her that much. "By what?" "You." Your breath got caught in your throat. "M-me?"

She gave you a small shy smile and nodded. "Yes, you." Your heart beat so fast that you could heart it in your ears. It was also a reason why you could not stop stuttering. "W-w-why?"

"Is that not obvious?" She teased you before her whole aura got serious. "You always looks so cute and you talking russian just made things worse." Holy motherfucker... NATASHA ROMANOFF FINDS ME CUTE. The two of you stood there with blushing cheeks looking all awkward and like two idiots who didn't know how to make a first step.

"I honestly don't know what to say."

She took your hands into hers, holding them softly in between your bodies, squeezing them a bit because of her nervousness. "Would you go on a date with me?" You felt your voice slip away so you just nodded and smiled at her widely.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #wlw #not mine

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babbygirlblues · 1 year

Note

Holy holy holy

👏🏽

7 or 8

eight: i heard you talking in your sleep

Ava waits impatiently, drumming her fingertips against her knee as Bea moves around the kitchen. A jar of peach preserves lands on the table in front of her, followed by a knife. She follows strong fingers up to strong arms and shoulders, finally meeting Bea's eyes.

"Yes?" she asks innocently.

"If you're just going to sit there, be useful."

Ava beams. "As you wish." She doesn't linger on the pretty blush that rushes across Bea's face, granting her an ounce of mercy. She knows Bea appreciates it. But it doesn't stop Ava from saying it every chance she can, since they watched The Princess Bride a few nights ago. She knows Bea found it romantic.

And maybe Ava is pushing this line they're drawn between each other, but she can't resist nudging it forward, seeing how far she can get before Bea just admits that there's something going on. She's never good at knowing when to leaving something alone.

She pops out of her seat at the same time the toast pops in the ancient toaster that came with their apartment. She dances across the kitchen, her hands ghosting Bea's hips as she stands at the stove, watching their eggs cook. She feels Bea shiver a little but tries her best to focus her attention on spreading preserves against the toast.

She doesn't last long.

"Good dreams last night?" she asks innocently.

Bea's breath hitches. A normal person - someone not obsessed with every minute detail of Beatrice - wouldn't notice. But Ava has never felt less normal than she does when she's around Bea. And for carrying a Holy Weapon under her skin, that's a pretty big feat.

"Fine," Beatrice says after a second. "Why?"

Ava abandons the toast, all pretenses gone. She turns around, pressing the small of her back into the counter behind her.

"Oh, just wondering," she sings. She purses her lips, counting the seconds in her head. One, two, three, fo-

Bea turns, a spatula in her hand. "Why are you wondering?"

Ava shrugs casually. "Just wondering," she repeats.

Ava - an expert at Bea's facial tics and the way she breathes and the way her fingers curl around something - doesn't miss the slight sigh as Bea reins in the trickle of frustration she's feeling.

Bea's eyes narrow. "If you have something to say, you should-"

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

Bea inhales sharply. Ava catalogs it, adding it the ever-growing list of things she loves about Beatrice.

"I wasn't aware," Bea says in a measured voice. But Ava sees the way her hand tightens around the spatula. The eggs sizzle behind her. "I hope it didn't keep you up."

It did. But Ava hadn't cared. She had propped her head up on her elbow and watched Bea in the moonlight, mouth moving as she breathed out things Ava was sure she'd never say out loud. It took everything in her not to wake Bea up.

"It wasn't a big deal." She turns back to the quickly-cooling toast, smiling to herself. She can feel the tension radiating off Bea from five feet away. She smiles to herself, resists the urge to bounce on the tips of her toes. She counts. One, two, thr-

"Do you- Uh, do you remember what I said?"

Ava looks back over her shoulder, schooling her face into something casual. "Oh, the usual stuff. Ava, you need to try harder. Ava, take this seriously." She watches Bea's shoulders - coiled and high up near her ears - start to relax. "Ava, I want to kiss you."

Bea's whole body goes rigid. Ava is sure that if she was any stronger, the spatula would crack in her hand. She fights a smile and gently crosses the room, curling her hand around Bea's and loosening her grasp on the spatula. It's their only one.

"I'm sure that I-" Bea swallows. "I'm sure that's not what I said."

"Oh, it definitely is." Ava doesn't pull her hand away from Bea's. Instead, her replaces the spatula with her own hand. "But in a very dignified way. Like Mr. Darcy. That's the guy, right?" She takes a small step in, watching in delight as Bea takes a step back. She's dangerously close to the stove so Ava reaches around her, turning the burner off. "It was flattering."

Bea's face is bright red, freckles like stars across her cheeks. "I'm so sorry," she breathes, voice laced with something Ava might call shame. She frowns. That's not what she wanted. But Bea sees her frown and rushes to add, "It's not my intention to make you uncomfortable. And we- It's just been the two of us. I-" Her eyes start to shimmer. "I cannot apologize enough. I understand if you- I'll sleep on the couch."

"Woah, slow down." Ava ducks her head to catch Bea's eyes. She brushes her thumb across Bea's knuckles. Her other hand hovers over Bea's hip but she doesn't dare let it fall yet. "I'm not mad."

Bea blinks a few times. "I understand if you-"

"I'm not mad or uncomfortable," she interrupts. Bea's mouth snaps closed audibly. She looks down at her hand hovering and back up at Bea. She searches Bea's eyes and finds something that lets her know it'd be okay to touch Bea. Her hand lands lightly against her hip. She watches Bea fight off a shiver. "Actually, I'm..."

"Don't say flattered," Bea says in a halting voice, like she's pulling the words out from clenched teeth.

Ava smiles softly. "I won't say that, then." She strokes her thumb across Bea's hipbone. She can't hide the shiver this time. "How about I say... I've been waiting for you to say that."

Bea's eyes widen slightly, her mouth falling open. "You..."

"Me." Ava lowers her hand to Bea's other hip. This time when she steps in, Bea doesn't step back. "And if it's a relief, really. Because I was worried I was the only one feeling this. But I'm not. Right?" A tendril of doubt ripples through her. Maybe she read it wrong.

But Bea just stares at her for a moment before she shakes her nearly imperceptibly. Relief blossoms in her chest.

"Cool. Cool, cool." Ava's smile starts slow but spreads wide. She takes another step in. She can see the panic in Bea's eyes and she wants it to disappear. Her hand tighten a little more purposefully. "So I think we have two options, right? The first is that we totally forget this conversation happened and the next time you start talking in your sleep, I'll ignore it."

Bea's throat bobs as she swallows. "And the second option?"

"I kiss you right now."

"Oh," Bea breathes.

"Oh," Ava echoes with a smile. Bea doesn't move, seemingly frozen. Ava knows she needs to be gentle, to approach this like she's trying to convince a fawn to come closer. So she lifts a hand, rests it against Bea's cheek, and smiles. "Beatrice, I'm going to kiss you."

She doesn't wait. She follows the words right to Bea's lips, pressing her own softly against them. Bea is frozen underneath her and Ava thinks about pulling back before Bea moves, coming alive. Her hand curls around Ava's neck, pulling her back in those few precious inches Ava had put between them. It feels like a long stretch in a patch of sunlight, like coming home and taking off her shoes, like sliding into fresh sheets.

The kiss ebbs into a smile and they stay pressed together like that for a moment before Ava tips her head back, pressing an even softer kiss to Bea's forehead.

"Oh," Bea says again.

Ava smiles. "Same."

"I've been waiting for you to do that," Bea admits. "I couldn't- It couldn't be me."

Ava strokes her thumb across Bea's cheek. "Well, now we've done it. And we're going to keep doing that." It isn't a question, but Bea nods anyway. "In fact, we're going to start right now."

"But breakfast is-"

Ava leans in, stopping the rest of the words. She's never wanted a meal less in her life. Bea doesn't seem to hesitate either, kissing her back instantly. Ava smiles and feels Bea's fingers flex on her neck and feels like they could face anything together and win every time.

#warrior nun #avatrice #not mine #writing

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babbygirlblues · 1 year

Note

Im speechless tbh, good god! Your writing is just ugh 😩👌 ad the fact that i said: "she's an alpha 😡" at the same time ahdkhjllsj i fucking LOVE your writing man and im glad you're back, im definitely going to read the whole thing all over again bc ugh!!!! And i hope the rest of this year gets better for you, thanks for sharing with us.

Ps: *slides $5* about this Dylan guy...make it look like an accident ;)

GAHHHH awww damn babe! Thank you! This makes me sooo happy. I don’t know how to describe how unbelievable you are, I’m so touched you like my writing. Thank you for telling me 💖

Thank u, I have high hopes for this year! I wish you the best and more than you can dream of!

Ahahahahaha, that I might be able to do, but I charge more for accidents 😏

#asks

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babbygirlblues · 1 year

Text

Thank u!!! Thank u, thank u!!!!

A Fallen Facade (chapter five)

i.e. The One Chance - part V

The next chapter from the One Chance... sometimes things have to fall apart to build something new. (Smut in this chapter, alpha!Nat x omega!Reader)

5.7K

The One Chance (part i, part ii, part iii, part iv,)

18+ MINORS DNI

It’s been days since your birthday and there’s an awkwardness that’s never before existed between you and Natasha. You haven’t seen her since she dropped you back home. The car ride was quiet with Natasha seemingly with a lot on her mind and unwilling to share it.

You’ve been lying in bed most of the morning, and not used to so many days away from the red-headed alpha. Moping but have been the best word for it were you ready to admit that was what you were doing. You’d opened and closed her message line on your phone far too many times. Your fingers fly over the screen, clicking a simple message before pausing… it doesn’t feel right. It sits weird and you’re not sure why it’s suddenly hard to talk to her.

Hey! What are you up to? Wanna hang out tonight? I’ve got a craving for pizza :) :)

You slam down on the backspace button and delete it all, throwing your phone to the bed where it thumps and bounces to a dead still.

Your mother knocks on the door a second later, with her characteristically soft and impatient short successive bangs against the wood. Her nails scratch against the grain and your heightened hearing causes your spine shivers at the sound like nails against a blackboard.

“Mother?”

“I’ve got something here for you.” She says with her head wedged into the gap in the door.

“Oh?” Your chest lightens for a moment, still guarded but curious, “Come in, please.”

She comes through the doorway following a beautiful flowing dress held out in front of her. It brushes against her pant covered knees and she looks awfully proud with glistening eyes.

She presents the dress to you, “Here, my darling girl.”

“For me?”

“Of course!”

She holds the dress to the front of your chest and lets it drape down your torso.

She lines it up below your shoulders and clicks her tongue with approval, “Oh! It’s perfect.”

“It’s beautiful, Ma.”

“Try it on!” She instructs quickly, batting your hands onto the material.

“Okay.” You give in with a quiet sigh.

You slip the dress on, braless and then slide your track pants off underneath. Already it’s becoming exhausting trying to placate your mother. You just hope she’ll be happy with this so that you can go back to your own space, slip something more comfortable on and think about Natasha.

She shuffles back into your room when you call out to her.

Her hair bounces as she gasps, “Wonderful, just what I was looking for… God, I’m good.” She shakes her head, pleased with herself.

“Thank you, Mother-”

“Your father’s going to be so pleased.”

“Father?”

“Hmm? Yeah.” She mumbles, distracted with smoothing the hair around your forehead, pulling a few strands into place around your face. “Okay, clean up your hair a little and meet us downstairs in 20 minutes.”

“Wait, what? Downstairs?”

“Yes, you and the dress, downstairs and presentable in 20 minutes.”

“Why?”

She leaves without another word.

~~~

Someone knocks on the door as you’re stepping downstairs and you reflexively clutch the railing with a suddenly straightened back. Your parents are waiting by the door and from the corner of your eye, you notice that the lounge room appears set up for guests.

“Who is that?”

“Get downstairs.” Your father orders impatiently from the doorway.

You're on the last few steps when he swings the door open to reveal a young man under the archway. Your fathers palm collides with the boy’s with a loud slap that he uses to bring him into a half-hearted hug and he thumps his back in an exuberant greeting.

The boy looks up to you expectantly and when your father follows his gaze he waves you down the rest of the staircase.

“Y/N.” The subtle threatening gravel in his tone is too familiar and it makes you scuffle down the stairs until you reach them.

He straightens up, lifting his chin above you and says your name again, “Y/N, this is Dylan.”

You’re speechless and your father’s expectant gaze burns into the periphery of your vision. Dylan speaks up before you can stand there foolishly any longer.

“It’s a relief to meet you at last.” Dylan holds a hand out to you and you take it in greeting. He pulls it up to his lips for a wet, ghostly kiss against your knuckles, “You’re just as your father described.”

His leering gaze is almost intrusive and the surprise of your mother’s gift sickens into its place in the puzzle. He lingers over the low cut at your chest, where the delicate lace edges expose your neck and shoulders down to the tops of your breasts.

Your parents have outdone themselves. The coffee table is set with an assortment of expensive sweets and delicacies. It all feels like part of the sale, your autonomy and soul as the centrepiece and main attraction across from him on the opposite couch facing out the window.

You can’t help but halfway zone out from the conversation immediately as it starts. Your father’s voice smothers the conversation and you know that he won’t notice the way you’re mentally elsewhere. He asks Dylan about the family business that he’s lined up to join and the conversation turns to a list of boring accolades that fail to impress you in the slightest.

It’s ridiculous to even compare the two, but your mind starts its own game as a distraction from this hell. It starts with Dylan’s skin, he’s splotchy white, stained with an odd, dark shade of orange where a fake tan has obviously been liberally applied in amateurish, uneven patches. You think about the soft warmth of Natasha’s skin, dotted with a rare freckle and perpetually flushed a pretty pink with a glow like an angel. She’s smooth and silky, the skin at her neck always smells intoxicating and the delicate skin at the dip of her hips has become your favourite place to touch, run your fingers over and kiss. Where his hair is light brown and slicked back with an oily gel, Natasha’s brilliant red locks are as clear in your mind as the speckled green of her eyes. In every way Dylan seems to fail in comparison.

Your eyes continue to trail over his body and you pause at the way his thighs are spread wide on the seat taking up as much room as possible. You can’t help but conjure an image of Natasha’s thighs. Of course, you’ve seen her kick someone’s chest in, tumble down in a leg lock and choke a man out with her thighs. But you’ve also felt them. The strength, the heated smoothness of them when she pressed up, skin against skin, and grinded herself deeper into your walls. You flush at the memory and shift on your seat, awkwardly changing the crossing of your legs to try and adjust to the sudden wave of arousal stirring in your lower stomach.

Your father appears totally oblivious to the grimy look in Dylans smile, his teeth flashing your way on almost every possible occasion. It’s not the charming look that he imagines. You feel more like a new toy for a spoiled child on Christmas Day as he eyes you off like a prize.

The conversation drags on for over an hour, but eventually Dylan runs out of things to boast about, leaving your parents more than impressed, and you even more loathsome. Your own refusal to answer questions with more than a few short sentences leaves the conversation drying up to an awkward silence where your mother grows restless quickly.

“Perhaps a walk through the garden…” She offers, turning to you with an insistent look, “Y/N?”

“Sure.” You smile placatingly.

“Yes! A walk, alright!” Father jumps up, knocking the table in his haste.

“Er, perhaps just the two of them… darling?”

You see your father’s grin waver at the thought of you being left on your own to impress Dylan. Still, he pushes you out the door to avoid any disagreement.

Dylan follows half a step behind you like a shadow as you take him through the small creek that runs through the back of your parents' property. He talks to you most of the way out, repeating most of what your father had already asked. All about his money, his job, where he wants to live, how many pups he desires, etc etc.

The afternoon goes mostly the same way. He remains unconcerned by the fact that you’re not listening to a word while you hum and agree quietly every so often. That seems to be enough for him. You find yourself staring off into the sky as the sun starts to set. You’ve never paid such detail to the shadows of the clouds, the way blue slowly lightens and darkens into purple, pink, and then finally a brief flash of orange. The moment feels heavy with grief and acceptance all together, in your head you try to say goodbye to your dreams with Natasha. It’s hard and despite everything a small piece of you is strong and it clings onto her.

You set up a table on the patio, candlelight and a dining place for two. You’re mindlessly smiling at Dylan’s dull sense of humour when you hear the back door slide open. To your surprise, you see Natasha standing there, looking out at the two of you.

She steps out, aggressively planting her feet on the stone, her legs are bare in shorts that make your stomach ache but then she’s quick to stop herself. Still metres away, her ribs contract under a pretty blouse you’ve never seen before.

“Natasha?”

Her face drops into something stern and dead and your heart begs to replace that pain with her beautiful smile. She steps back away as soon as your chair squeaks and your knees push it back to stand from the table.

You chase her to the door but you don't reach her in time because she practically sprints back through the house. Her legs are longer and she’s far quicker than you. You stop at the doorway, heart pounding and a few short moments later you hear her car door slam and her tires spinning on the gravel out the front of your house.

Sea sick legs take you back through the house and outside to Dylan at the table. In shock you sit back down, automatically picking back up your fork where it lies limp in your clenched hand. Your mind is running a million miles an hour and a strange shock settles in your stomach that you can’t really comprehend.

Dylan smiles through a mouthful of food, “That beta looks totally in love with you.” He brings his glass to his lips and laughs like it's pathetically hilarious.

“She’s an alpha.” You mumble back, hardly finding it in you to speak.

That just makes him laugh harder.

“Oh that is too good!” He boasts. “When your father said the alpha’s in this town were pathetic, I couldn’t imagine it would be this bad.”

What’s the point in even replying? You can hardly hear him speaking.

“Excuse me for a moment.” You mumble across to him, picking your phone up from the tablecloth. Your eyes drop to the phone in your lap where your fingers typing furiously across the screen. You send her text after text.

Nat?

Hey, you okay?

You don’t really wait for a reply, 30 seconds seems like long enough, so you type again…

What’s going on?

I can explain everything here.

God! You think about that look on her face and it breaks your heart.

Are you alright?

In the absence of a reply, your mind starts to wonder, why was she even here? God, she looked so pretty.

Do you need something?

Dinner finishes and she still hasn’t replied. You can see that she’s seen the messages but not even a text bubble pops up to say she’s typing. You type again.

I’m gonna come over when I can leave.

Tash?

You’re starting to scare me.

Please, just tell me if you’re okay.

The evening drags on until Dylan finally bids you goodnight. Back under the arch of the doorway, you smile as politely as you can, secretly praying that he would hurry up and leave. His careless kiss lands at the edge of your lips, where his aim for your mouth gets cut off as you turn your cheek to him.

He’s slightly put off by your rejection, obviously not expecting it from an omega, he smooths both hands down over his hair, the crackly gel crunching under his fingers and he straightens up. You couldn’t care less if he’s angry with you, although you imagine he might be.

He clears his throat and for the first time tonight, he looks awkward, “I’ll text you, tomorrow sometime.”

“Okay.” You reply quickly with a nod, too impatient and careless to acknowledge the obvious weirdness of the exchange.

The second his car is out of sight you’re frantically unchaining your bicycle from the side of the house and wincing through the immediate discomfort of the sharp metal pedals cutting into your feet through the thin flats your mother gave you. You tear down the street with the wind blowing up your flowing skirt and it trails behind you like a silky flag, making you feel like you’re flying.

The road to Natasha’s apartment has never felt so long and yet you arrive quicker than ever. It’s turning into a cold night and you’re pumping your legs so hard that the damp sweat collecting at your back makes you shiver. As soon as you stop, the concrete footpath steals the warmth from your feet as you jump off the bike and walk.

You don’t bother ringing her bell downstairs, when you arrive at the gate you punch the code into the box and the lock clicks to let you through. You throw your bike at the fence and it clashes, metal against metal, in a jumbled bang.

Her flat is on the third floor, so you skip the steps two at a time, huffing deep breaths by the time you reach the top. There’s a soft glowing light from under the door and you find yourself hesitating before knocking.

You clench and unclench your fist, then with a deep breath you take a final step closer to the door and raise your knuckles to tap against the wood.

“Natasha?!”

You listen out for a sign of her inside but you can’t hear a sound.

“I know you’re in there! I saw your car in the driveway downstairs… I can smell you.”

There’s a heavy unspoken tension in the silence after you knock on her door again. Whatever unspoken line that existed between you has been blurred incomprehensibly and now you’re fumbling in the haze, too far gone to worry about your insecurities.

“Natasha, please.” You beg, “Can you just open the door?”

Silence.

“Are you upset about Dylan?”

Her voice breaks the silence, raspy on the other side of the door, “Why would I be upset?”

You realise how stupid that sounds, but a stirring feeling in your stomach tells you that you’re right, “I-I don’t know… but I can explain everything.”

“Your bond? It’s to him?”

“What? Fuck no. He’s the stupid mate my father’s set up. He just showed up today.”

“Oh.”

You test the door handle and it doesn’t budge, the lock clicking and blocking you out. If Natasha notices, she doesn’t care and remains on the offensive.

“So you’re just going to mate with someone you don’t have a bond to?”

You sigh, “I have no choice.”

“Yes, you do.” She replies impatiently. She’s frustrated, you can feel it.

“What am I supposed to do Natasha?”

“Do something. Jesus.”

Her sharp tone cuts your patience away and now you’re angry when you speak to her. “You’re an alpha, Tash. And you don’t have a bond, you wouldn’t understand.”

It’s a sensitive topic and you immediately feel bad about bringing it up. You sigh remorsefully and let your head drop against the door, heart feeling so heavy it’s about to drop from your chest, cracking a few ribs on the way down. “This isn’t some mediaeval orchestrated wedding, but you know what my father is like.”

That makes her angry, with herself, you, the situation. It tips whatever remaining reserve she had over the edge.

“I’ve been bonded to you since I was twelve years old!” Her voice is hoarse and seems louder than it actually was. She might as well be screaming it from the rooftops, but even her croaky whisper through the door rattles you.

Your forehead lifts from its place against the door.

“I- What?”

You can hear her panting through the door, hear the shake in her breath, hear her hesitate before her feet shuffle over the carpet to the entrance. Your hands still above the doorway, spread out and scared to make a sound out of even the slightest movement.

The lock clicks slowly, heavily. She creaks the door ajar and you can see her red-lined, puffy eyes peeking out behind it.

“Tasha?” Your eyes are full of questions, you can feel them tumbling towards your lips but not one single one comes forward with clarity.

Her eyes flicker quickly between yours and she just nods her head, “It’s true.”

“I… how… when… what?”

You watch her smile softly, a tear tracks down her cheeks and gets lost between her lips, “Since the first day, the first time I saw you - it just happened.”

Your feet twitch on the ground, suddenly feeling incredibly unsteady on your legs.

“In class?” You ask breathlessly and confused, searching through your memory of every detail you can remember from that day.

She shakes her head though, “No. In the school yard, from the backseat of my Mom’s car.”

Everything about that makes you giddy and your most deeply held secret comes tumbling out of your lips.

“Jesus, Natasha! I’ve been in love with you for years.”

Is there anything more to say than that? You try to find the words. Sure, your bond took longer. It started off strong and then grew day by day as you learnt more about her. As you became friends, she let down her walls and you fell for her strength but even more so for her softness.

“Huh?” Her forehead scrunches up and she tilts her head in confusion. “You-?”

“Natasha, my bond… has always been to you.”

She steps closer, paused in front of you, her eyes unfocused and glazed over. She starts to scare you with her posture, motionless but so tense from head to toe.

"Natasha?"

"Why didn't you say something?" She whispers.

Fear, insecurity, friendship, losing you, my father, love…

You shrug miserably, "Why didn't you?"

She stays frozen in place and you’re unsure what to do. Her hair drapes down over her eyes as her head drops heavily towards the ground.

You step inside from the hallway and towards her carefully, approaching like you would a wild animal. Your hands softly reach for her stomach, above the waistband of her pants and you stroke the material there. When she doesn’t shy away, your palms press into her abdomen, fingers curly softly around the edge of her waist. The soft blouse wrinkles under your hands, it’s pretty with white and pink flowers in a dark red that looks so good on her.

You bend down to see into her eyes when she refuses to look up at you. A sad tear is tracking down her cheek and your heart crumbles.

“Oh, Tash.”

She shakes her head, the last bit of fight in her holds on for a second longer.

You lean on closer, your lips flutter like butterfly wings softly against the side of her jaw, light and unsure, timidly inching towards a bolder touch.

Her hand snakes up into your hair and she cups the back of your skull, holding your neck in place. Her grip is tight, soothing and she ever so slowly guides her lips down to yours. She kisses you heavily as she lays claim to your mouth. It feels like drinking water in the desert, like a cold glass after a deep sleep in the heat of summer. Her lips breathe life into your soul like nothing else ever could. The kiss is different to all the others you’ve shared. The relief and honesty seeps through it and you realise all the love you’d been holding back doesn’t need to be hidden away anymore.

She twists around you and with a quick, harsh breath through her nose she drags you into her arms. You stumble backwards, tripping over each other and Natasha reaches for the door behind you, pushing it as you get closer. As soon as the door closes behind you she’s on you. The door clicks closed and you’re seconds away from crashing into the door after it. Her body follows, pressing you up against the wood and this time her hand firmly cups the back of your skull and she cradles you from knocking your head.

“Oh my god.” You gasp and you can hardly get the words out, you’re half smiling, half heaving. Her strong fingers at your waist and the other hand in your hair is making you breathless. She presses her forehead against yours and you close your eyes to feel her close.

“Sorry, is’t too much?” She mumbles back against your lips.

You shake your head, “I didn’t say that.”

You encourage her, sinking into her arms and curling a leg around her waist. She lifts you at the crux of your knee and then grips high around your upper thigh.

When she reaches for your other leg, you jump lightly off your toe on the ground and wrap your legs fully around her waist. The determined and confident pressure from her hands holding you up in the air at the crux of your upper thigh and ass is making you melt further into her arms and tighten your legs around her waist.

“Bedroom?” She pants, the question sharp and demanding.

“Hmm?” You groan, watching her lips move but barely registering her words, “No, here.” You pant breathlessly, “Fuck me against the front door… I can’t wait.”

“Nat?”

She moans softly, mumbling against your lips as she sinks in for another kiss. You drop your jaw as she swipes her tongue against your lower lip and you suckle her penetrating tongue teasingly.

The pretty short shorts she’s wearing are delicate soft linen and so thin. As she grinds against your own pelvis, you can feel her instantly growing harder. One of her hands rips the zipper down and you think you hear something tear. She awkwardly pushes the waistband down until it’s hugging halfway down her ass and just low enough to free her cock.

She’s as magnificent as ever when you glance down to watch her fist her length out from her underwear.

“Fuck.” You mumble. Will you ever get over how beautiful she is? Doubtful.

She shuffles you higher in her arms, your thighs resting in the crux of her elbow and she easily angles your entrance towards her as you reef your dress up. She can’t see properly and despite holding you up against the door, she slides up against your entrance on the first pass. You reach down to rip your underwear out of the way and help guide her impatient thrust inside your cunt.

She gets right there, the wide tip edging at your slick entrance and she hesitates. You can feel the heat radiating off her, and the teasing pressure right between your legs. You moan pitifully, a desperate plea mixing with the pleasure of her body so close. It makes her hips stutter and you feel the muscles in her back tense as she holds back a violent reaction to your sound.

You arch back in her arms, head back against the door and look down at her, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m…I-” She mumbles,

“Natasha?”

“Not like this.” She mumbles, her nose traces down the column of your throat and she tucks under your chin at the shape edge of her cheek.

“What?”

She squirms slightly, dragging the pressure away from your entrance to brush up against the edge of your ass, and the breath you’ve been holding gets sucked from your lungs.

“I feel like I’m going to bite you.” She groans and it feels like a growl that she places at the base of your throat.

“Oh.”

You drop your head to her shoulder and nuzzle in at the crux of her neck

As her pulse thrums under your lips you gently bare your teeth to the sensitive skin, running the sharp and smooth edge of your incisors along her pulse. Ever so carefully, you take a small pinch between your teeth and delicately bite down. It’s not hard enough to break skin, nowhere near it. But it makes her fingers dig into your thigh and a raspy, warning purring vibrates from her chest. She pulls you closer and it’s a test of her self-control to stop herself from latching straight onto your throat in retaliation.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” You whisper to her.

You present your neck to her by lifting your chin and tilting your head slightly to the side. It’s a submissive position but your power isn’t gone. She’s holding you up above her, looking up at you through her lashes and every feature of her face is so familiar - it’s home.

“I’m already yours.” You tell her.

She takes her time to latch onto your neck, just below your fast pumping pulse point and at the same time, she bites down to hold you in place and her hips thrust up into you. She moves with an aching determination, her teeth gradually getting tighter and her hips rutting relentlessly, working to get deeper inside your walls.

She’s tender and cautious but you still yelp softly when finally sheaths herself completely inside, sighing as her hips and thighs press up against yours. She lets go of the bite on your throat and you involuntarily whimper when it’s gone. It’s only a dull ache, Natasha inspects the red swelling from her mouth and some indentations leftover from her teeth, but it’s nothing permanent. She ardently tries to soothe the inflamed spot, soft kisses from her lips already starting to heal the mark. She rocks into you at the same time, passionately grinding into you against the door. The door lock thumps behind you, clicking against the metal and wood as the door slams into the frame.

You fight back a rising orgasm when Natasha keeps nailing a spot inside you that makes you arch your neck back and collide with the door. She keeps a ruthless rhythm until you fall apart with a climax that makes you moan. You reflexively bring a hand to your mouth, muffling the sound much to Natasha’s dismay. It feels too exposing to moan into her living room walls with a shared hallway right on the other side of the door.

As your muscles relax, you sigh in her arms and feel the way the muscles in her arm are working to hold you up. She must be getting tired, you think, and she’s way too eager to impress you to say anything.

“Nat.” You press a warm hand to her chest, gesturing for her to let you down to the ground. She lets you down from her arms and you seductively twist to face the door.

She caresses your hips in broad strokes, pushing your dress up over your lower back and she runs her palms over your ribs.

“Are you okay?”

“Take it off.” You tell her breathlessly.

She slowly pulls down the zipper at the back and you bend forward further to let the dress fall off over your head.

It drops to the ground at your feet in a shiny puddle and as you go to stand up straight, Natasha stops you halfway, keeping you bent at the waist. You reach for the door handle for some support in the position.

She steps up impossibly closer behind you and easily slides in to take you from behind. From this position it’s even easy for her to exert all her control over you. Everything is a frantic search for your pleasure and you practically hiccup with moans as she thrusts hard and slow into you.

“You’re mine now.” She says, and there’s an air of a question that stained the end of her breath.

“Yes.” You gasp. “I’m yours.”

She pauses deep inside you.

“I’m yours, too.” She admits quietly, “Everything I am, everything I have belongs to you. It always has.”

You can’t help but mewl at that, your omega purring at the omission. The sound makes Natasha roar and she starts pounding again, even harder, redoubling her efforts. Your toes curl painfully into the wooden floor as your knees tremble.

“Tash!” You cry out loud this time, Natasha hands gripping your free wrist tightly behind your back and you have nothing to muffle your moans.

You don’t ask her to stop, you're long gone into overstimulation but choose to wait for her to finally let go. After a few more hard strokes that make your stomach clench, you have to ask her.

“Why aren’t you finishing?” You mumble and then whimper softly, “P-Please.”

“I-I can’t!” She whines.

“Huh?”

“Y/N. I can’t cum inside you.”

Oh. It’s her skin deep inside you and you shiver at the thought of her claiming your walls properly. Everything belonging to her feels right, your heart starts to beat fast and you free your hand to touch her. You give her hand a squeeze.

“It’s ok. You can. Please, you can.”

She groans heavily, “I- hmmm.”

A few harsh quick thrusts into you from behind almost send you head first through the wall, but she drags you back on to her just as hard as she pounds into you. After the last one she lets go of your waist and pushes gently against the dimples in your lower back, pulling herself out with a wet pop.

She quickly fists her length, furiously jerking herself off until she orgasms weakly. She drops her hand defeatedly and looks hardly satisfied. You know that an orgasm outside your cunt isn’t very pleasurable, it barely takes the edge off. She stands there, foggy and tense, with her cock still swollen rock hard, denying her relief.

Your weak legs finally get a temporary relief as you slide down to your knees on the floor.

“Come’ere.”

“Y/N.” Her protest is weaker than her recent orgasm.

You raise an eyebrow at her, wordlessly commanding her closer.

She steps up to you, a very small sway to her hips that makes her length swing in front of your face. You don’t waste a second before taking her in your mouth and sinking as far down as your throat would let you. She’s got an incredible girth that gets caught, blocking your windpipe and no matter how hard you push, you can’t force yourself further.

Natasha’s hands shake as she places a gentle grip on the back of your skull and carefully starts to feed more of her cock to your mouth. Your hands clasp tightly to the back of her thighs and you pull harder, trying to make her thrust further so you could deep throat her.

She draws out first, dragging back against your throat and lips. It gives you a chance to breathe that you didn’t even realise you were missing. Every nerve ending over your whole body feels electrocuted with nervous, blissful energy.

She rocks back in slightly faster and you relax every muscle in your body, hoping that it will help as she spears deeper down your throat than before.

“Oh! Fuck. Holy fuck.”

She drags in and out a few more times, shallow and gentle. You can hear her panting in the distance with your own heart beating in your ears like a bass drum.

You keep pulling yourself deeper and in one movement, Natasha ruts forward harder than ever at the same time you push your lips forward and she plugs up your throat deep down. Your plump lips graze her pelvis, your fine nose gets smooshed against her hard lower abs and she twitches hard against your face.

She watches from above you through wide eyes at your own teary expression and her jaw drops at the sight of her cock bulging through your throat. Her hips hump uncontrollably against your lip,s, her alpha telling her to take, take, take, and seconds later she’s gasping as she spurts down your throat.

Natasha steps back on shaky feet and breathes your name quietly, “Y/N.”

You cough lightly as she carefully extracts herself, the first few gulps of air feeling a little strange in your throat. She caresses your jaw intensely and you can see a hint of guilt in her eyes. Even the subtle notion of discomfort from you is extremely painful for her, so she watches you carefully, intent on every detail of your expression. You smile at her, in a way you hope is reassuring, it doesn’t help that your lips are swollen red but the fact that she did that turns her on all over again.

As you stand back to your feet, Natasha drags you into a tight hold, her mouth instantly finding the small bruise left from her bite and she kisses it again. You imagine her placing a real mark there, cutting into your throat and declaring you to the world as hers.

“Can we go to the bedroom now?” She smirks.

“Please.” You whisper back.

She scoops you up with an arm under your knees and carries you bridal style through a short hallway to her bedroom.

#comment reblog

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babbygirlblues · 1 year

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You set up a table on the patio, candlelight and a dining place for two. You’re mindlessly smiling at Dylan’s dull sense of humour when you hear the back door slide open. To your surprise, Natasha’s standing there, looking out at the two of you.

“Natasha?”

- Chapter V, The One Chance

Thank you to everyone being so patient with this story! It's been a tough start to the year for me, but I'm getting back on the writing horse now!

My inbox is back open, feel free to have a convo, ask question, requests etc.

And it's been a long time coming... but a ginormous thank you to all my followers. You're all bloody brilliant ♥️ It means so much to me, thank you!

#not writing #natasha romanoff x reader

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babbygirlblues · 1 year

Text

A Fallen Facade (chapter five)

i.e. The One Chance - part V

The next chapter from the One Chance... sometimes things have to fall apart to build something new. (Smut in this chapter, alpha!Nat x omega!Reader)

5.7K

The One Chance (part i, part ii, part iii, part iv,)

18+ MINORS DNI

Hey! What are you up to? Wanna hang out tonight? I’ve got a craving for pizza :) :)

You slam down on the backspace button and delete it all, throwing your phone to the bed where it thumps and bounces to a dead still.

“Mother?”

“I’ve got something here for you.” She says with her head wedged into the gap in the door.

“Oh?” Your chest lightens for a moment, still guarded but curious, “Come in, please.”

She comes through the doorway following a beautiful flowing dress held out in front of her. It brushes against her pant covered knees and she looks awfully proud with glistening eyes.

She presents the dress to you, “Here, my darling girl.”

“For me?”

“Of course!”

She holds the dress to the front of your chest and lets it drape down your torso.

She lines it up below your shoulders and clicks her tongue with approval, “Oh! It’s perfect.”

“It’s beautiful, Ma.”

“Try it on!” She instructs quickly, batting your hands onto the material.

“Okay.” You give in with a quiet sigh.

She shuffles back into your room when you call out to her.

Her hair bounces as she gasps, “Wonderful, just what I was looking for… God, I’m good.” She shakes her head, pleased with herself.

“Thank you, Mother-”

“Your father’s going to be so pleased.”

“Father?”

“Wait, what? Downstairs?”

“Yes, you and the dress, downstairs and presentable in 20 minutes.”

“Why?”

She leaves without another word.

~~~

“Who is that?”

“Get downstairs.” Your father orders impatiently from the doorway.

The boy looks up to you expectantly and when your father follows his gaze he waves you down the rest of the staircase.

“Y/N.” The subtle threatening gravel in his tone is too familiar and it makes you scuffle down the stairs until you reach them.

He straightens up, lifting his chin above you and says your name again, “Y/N, this is Dylan.”

You’re speechless and your father’s expectant gaze burns into the periphery of your vision. Dylan speaks up before you can stand there foolishly any longer.

“Perhaps a walk through the garden…” She offers, turning to you with an insistent look, “Y/N?”

“Sure.” You smile placatingly.

“Yes! A walk, alright!” Father jumps up, knocking the table in his haste.

“Er, perhaps just the two of them… darling?”

You see your father’s grin waver at the thought of you being left on your own to impress Dylan. Still, he pushes you out the door to avoid any disagreement.

“Natasha?”

Dylan smiles through a mouthful of food, “That beta looks totally in love with you.” He brings his glass to his lips and laughs like it's pathetically hilarious.

“She’s an alpha.” You mumble back, hardly finding it in you to speak.

That just makes him laugh harder.

“Oh that is too good!” He boasts. “When your father said the alpha’s in this town were pathetic, I couldn’t imagine it would be this bad.”

What’s the point in even replying? You can hardly hear him speaking.

Nat?

Hey, you okay?

You don’t really wait for a reply, 30 seconds seems like long enough, so you type again…

What’s going on?

I can explain everything here.

God! You think about that look on her face and it breaks your heart.

Are you alright?

In the absence of a reply, your mind starts to wonder, why was she even here? God, she looked so pretty.

Do you need something?

Dinner finishes and she still hasn’t replied. You can see that she’s seen the messages but not even a text bubble pops up to say she’s typing. You type again.

I’m gonna come over when I can leave.

Tash?

You’re starting to scare me.

Please, just tell me if you’re okay.

He clears his throat and for the first time tonight, he looks awkward, “I’ll text you, tomorrow sometime.”

“Okay.” You reply quickly with a nod, too impatient and careless to acknowledge the obvious weirdness of the exchange.

You clench and unclench your fist, then with a deep breath you take a final step closer to the door and raise your knuckles to tap against the wood.

“Natasha?!”

You listen out for a sign of her inside but you can’t hear a sound.

“I know you’re in there! I saw your car in the driveway downstairs… I can smell you.”

“Natasha, please.” You beg, “Can you just open the door?”

Silence.

“Are you upset about Dylan?”

Her voice breaks the silence, raspy on the other side of the door, “Why would I be upset?”

You realise how stupid that sounds, but a stirring feeling in your stomach tells you that you’re right, “I-I don’t know… but I can explain everything.”

“Your bond? It’s to him?”

“What? Fuck no. He’s the stupid mate my father’s set up. He just showed up today.”

“Oh.”

You test the door handle and it doesn’t budge, the lock clicking and blocking you out. If Natasha notices, she doesn’t care and remains on the offensive.

“So you’re just going to mate with someone you don’t have a bond to?”

You sigh, “I have no choice.”

“Yes, you do.” She replies impatiently. She’s frustrated, you can feel it.

“What am I supposed to do Natasha?”

“Do something. Jesus.”

Her sharp tone cuts your patience away and now you’re angry when you speak to her. “You’re an alpha, Tash. And you don’t have a bond, you wouldn’t understand.”

That makes her angry, with herself, you, the situation. It tips whatever remaining reserve she had over the edge.

Your forehead lifts from its place against the door.

“I- What?”

The lock clicks slowly, heavily. She creaks the door ajar and you can see her red-lined, puffy eyes peeking out behind it.

“Tasha?” Your eyes are full of questions, you can feel them tumbling towards your lips but not one single one comes forward with clarity.

Her eyes flicker quickly between yours and she just nods her head, “It’s true.”

“I… how… when… what?”

You watch her smile softly, a tear tracks down her cheeks and gets lost between her lips, “Since the first day, the first time I saw you - it just happened.”

Your feet twitch on the ground, suddenly feeling incredibly unsteady on your legs.

“In class?” You ask breathlessly and confused, searching through your memory of every detail you can remember from that day.

She shakes her head though, “No. In the school yard, from the backseat of my Mom’s car.”

Everything about that makes you giddy and your most deeply held secret comes tumbling out of your lips.

“Jesus, Natasha! I’ve been in love with you for years.”

“Huh?” Her forehead scrunches up and she tilts her head in confusion. “You-?”

“Natasha, my bond… has always been to you.”

She steps closer, paused in front of you, her eyes unfocused and glazed over. She starts to scare you with her posture, motionless but so tense from head to toe.

"Natasha?"

"Why didn't you say something?" She whispers.

Fear, insecurity, friendship, losing you, my father, love…

You shrug miserably, "Why didn't you?"

She stays frozen in place and you’re unsure what to do. Her hair drapes down over her eyes as her head drops heavily towards the ground.

You bend down to see into her eyes when she refuses to look up at you. A sad tear is tracking down her cheek and your heart crumbles.

“Oh, Tash.”

She shakes her head, the last bit of fight in her holds on for a second longer.

You lean on closer, your lips flutter like butterfly wings softly against the side of her jaw, light and unsure, timidly inching towards a bolder touch.

“Sorry, is’t too much?” She mumbles back against your lips.

You shake your head, “I didn’t say that.”

You encourage her, sinking into her arms and curling a leg around her waist. She lifts you at the crux of your knee and then grips high around your upper thigh.

“Bedroom?” She pants, the question sharp and demanding.

“Hmm?” You groan, watching her lips move but barely registering her words, “No, here.” You pant breathlessly, “Fuck me against the front door… I can’t wait.”

“Nat?”

She moans softly, mumbling against your lips as she sinks in for another kiss. You drop your jaw as she swipes her tongue against your lower lip and you suckle her penetrating tongue teasingly.

She’s as magnificent as ever when you glance down to watch her fist her length out from her underwear.

“Fuck.” You mumble. Will you ever get over how beautiful she is? Doubtful.

You arch back in her arms, head back against the door and look down at her, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m…I-” She mumbles,

“Natasha?”

“Not like this.” She mumbles, her nose traces down the column of your throat and she tucks under your chin at the shape edge of her cheek.

“What?”

She squirms slightly, dragging the pressure away from your entrance to brush up against the edge of your ass, and the breath you’ve been holding gets sucked from your lungs.

“I feel like I’m going to bite you.” She groans and it feels like a growl that she places at the base of your throat.

“Oh.”

You drop your head to her shoulder and nuzzle in at the crux of her neck

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” You whisper to her.

“I’m already yours.” You tell her.

“Nat.” You press a warm hand to her chest, gesturing for her to let you down to the ground. She lets you down from her arms and you seductively twist to face the door.

She caresses your hips in broad strokes, pushing your dress up over your lower back and she runs her palms over your ribs.

“Are you okay?”

“Take it off.” You tell her breathlessly.

She slowly pulls down the zipper at the back and you bend forward further to let the dress fall off over your head.

“You’re mine now.” She says, and there’s an air of a question that stained the end of her breath.

“Yes.” You gasp. “I’m yours.”

She pauses deep inside you.

“I’m yours, too.” She admits quietly, “Everything I am, everything I have belongs to you. It always has.”

“Tash!” You cry out loud this time, Natasha hands gripping your free wrist tightly behind your back and you have nothing to muffle your moans.

You don’t ask her to stop, you're long gone into overstimulation but choose to wait for her to finally let go. After a few more hard strokes that make your stomach clench, you have to ask her.

“Why aren’t you finishing?” You mumble and then whimper softly, “P-Please.”

“I-I can’t!” She whines.

“Huh?”

“Y/N. I can’t cum inside you.”

“It’s ok. You can. Please, you can.”

She groans heavily, “I- hmmm.”

Your weak legs finally get a temporary relief as you slide down to your knees on the floor.

“Come’ere.”

“Y/N.” Her protest is weaker than her recent orgasm.

You raise an eyebrow at her, wordlessly commanding her closer.

She rocks back in slightly faster and you relax every muscle in your body, hoping that it will help as she spears deeper down your throat than before.

“Oh! Fuck. Holy fuck.”

She drags in and out a few more times, shallow and gentle. You can hear her panting in the distance with your own heart beating in your ears like a bass drum.

Natasha steps back on shaky feet and breathes your name quietly, “Y/N.”

“Can we go to the bedroom now?” She smirks.

“Please.” You whisper back.

She scoops you up with an arm under your knees and carries you bridal style through a short hallway to her bedroom.

#natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanov #black widow x reader #The One Chance #wlw #writing #natasha romanoff x female reader

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babbygirlblues · 1 year

Note

Im so hyped for “the one chance” abo story. You are so amazing 🤩 and I love the how each part leaves us wanting more. Can’t wait for the part where they are finally on the same page pretty sure 👌 ur gonna make that amazing 🤯🤯🤯 sorry my mind is just exploding of how much am exited.

NB: I hope you are doing well and are healthy and happy wanna make you know that you are appreciated for your amazing stories 🥰🥰🥰 can’t wait for more 🥰

WOW! Thank you. It truely blows my mind that you're actually reading and liking my story! Thank you! I can't believe this.

HEhehe... you might be right about the next part! ;)

Awe thank you! I'm doing just fine now, happy and healthy :)) it really makes my day to hear this from you, thank you so much ❤️‍🔥

#asks

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babbygirlblues · 1 year

Note

hey!!! just wanted to check up on you and see if you’re doing well <33

Hey beautiful! Gosh, this is so sweet. I'm sorry for my long absence! I've been dealing with a big mess at home the last few weeks but I'm doing okay <3.

On a happier note, I'll be getting back to writing this week! So... hopefully an update coming soon (fingers crossed). Thank you for checking in on me - it's seriously so nice of you ❤️‍🩹

#asks

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babbygirlblues · 1 year

Text

That is so kind! Thank you so much!

❤️

Hahah it was intended to be a bit of a rollercoaster but we’re almost there! I’m just hoping you enjoy the ride 😬

Unspoken

(i.e. The One Chance: Chapter 4)

Alpha!Nat & Omega!Reader

Summary: You and Natasha both have something left unsaid.

4.9K

18+ MINORS DNI

Natasha had it all planned out, down to the second. This weekend is your birthday and she’d bought tickets to your favourite ballet that was only showing in the city. That meant it lined up as the perfect gift alongside a weekend in the city and a night in a fancy hotel.

And, after the show she was going to tell you everything.

She just hoped to god that it wasn’t going to be a disaster. But the truth remained that she couldn’t keep doing this forever…

~~~

Shitty days happened and what started as a shoulder to cry on, tonight, turned into straddling Natasha's lap in the back seat of her car with her pants by her ankles.

Late night drives for burgers have long been a sacred occasion. Sometimes they're quiet, but mostly it's a chance for the two of you to talk about anything and everything you couldn’t say to other people. Natasha’s concerns typically involve her job and training for tournaments. All the pressure catches up to her and you listen to her dream of a quieter life.

Tonight your heart’s heavy and for the first time you won’t speak a word of it to Natasha. She waits patiently until halfway through her burger, she places it down in her lap to take your uneaten one from your shaky hands.

The worried look she gives you breaks the last piece of your strong front and you let the first tear fall.

“Come here.” She throws the burgers onto the console above the wheel and holds an arm out for you to sink into.

It’s awkward with the odd angle to lean over her seat but Natasha rubs a soothing hand over your shoulder that makes the pain go away.

You have half a mind to tell her. She already knows it’s coming but your father had informed you this morning that the Alpha he’s been talking to is coming in 2 weeks. He’d shown you a picture and looking at his smug, rich face made it all the more real. What you have with Natasha is a fantasy that feels like it's starting to crack and crumble.

“I don’t want to talk about it, I want to forget… just for a little while.”

“Okay,” She murmurs.

She places a soft, innocent kiss to the side of your head.

You tilt back from her shoulder and meet her lips in a fervent kiss. At this point her lips are almost familiar and it’s strange to think there was a time you only dreamt of how she’d taste. Her lips are smoother than velvet and she’s endlessly careful, she kisses like she’s desperate to give you what you want.

Natasha’s always been an intoxicating mix of feminine and masculine. Beautiful and softly spoken but fiercely competitive and proud.

It’s in her body too, the contrast between her soft hips and the strength in her legs, the hard muscle in her core hides behind the silky cover of her stomach. When you crawl into the back seat after her and swing a leg over her lap to straddle her, you can feel that mix of hard and soft. The way her thighs easily lift your weight as she pulls you in closer but then they’re all softness and warmth under you when you sit back down.

She presses in close, chest to chest when she searches for your lips again. Her head tilts slightly up to reach you and she pulls you down with a bossy hand at the base of your skull.

Your fingers sneak in the tiny gap between you and inch under the bottom of her shirt to press palms into the bare skin of her hips.

She pauses for a moment and glances down at your hand disappearing under her clothes, “I thought I was meant to be distracting you?”

“You are,” You mumble back, an uncontainable smile getting in the way of your kiss to her mouth.

She slips in easier than before, you’re wet and open wide over her lap. It still takes your breath away and you clamp down on her shoulders, warning her as your hips threaten to jump up and away from her at the first twinge of pain from the harsh stretch.

She inches slowly after that, her gaze intense and focused on your face for guidance. You’re skin to skin when she’s filled you to the brim and you let your weight drop onto her bare thighs.

“Fuck,” She whispers, dropping her forehead to yours.

You can see the hot flush in her cheeks already, the air in the car already heating up and fogging the windows.

When you lift yourself higher on your knees and she drives up, slamming into you and lifting you high. You bounce with her motion and drop back down onto her as she thrust into you again.

“Tasha, oh god,” You moan, hiccuping on your words and scrambling to make sense of all the overwhelming sensations.

One hand claws at the roof of her car and the other slides for a grip on the backseat. The angle’s hitting something strange in your walls, each punch of her cock against it makes you gasp and writhe for more.

“F-fuck, are you okay?” Natasha’s hips stutter to a stop after a particularly brutal thrust to that spot makes you shriek. She looks at you nervous, your mixed signals confusing her and she’s not sure whether you’re tethering on the side of pleasure.

“Don’t stop!”

You’re close, edging on something intense. Natasha has a spare hand reach from its grip on your hip towards your clit and she circles tightly around the swollen nub.

Her face is struck in awe and concentration, her lips are swollen with the heat and how zealously you've been kissing. She blows the hair out of her face, huffing with the effort it takes to keep her pace between your legs.

All the pressure is too much, your legs give out and your hips rut against her hand. Her thrusts into you are suddenly fast and so much harder as she pumps into your spasming, clenched walls. A gush of wetness bursts out, soaking her cock and your thighs and wetting the bottom of Natasha’s shirt.

The climax is high, blissfully sky high but the drop takes you down just as far. Natatasha humping movements into you quickly become painful and you wince into the crease of her neck. She senses the tension in your spine and slows to a pause.

“Sorry,”

“S'okay," You murmur.

You don’t have to say anything more, Natasha pulls herself back and out of your cunt.

The sight of her, breathless and needy and still rock hard wakes you from the post-orgasm haze. You shuffle down between her legs and slot yourself in the small space between the front and back seats.

“Y/N,” Natasha says, quick and low.

“Uh, nuh… you’re only allowed to stop me if you don’t want me to do it.”

“You don’t have to,” She whispers faintly.

Your hands slide up her thighs, pressing teasingly into the sensitive skin at her inner thighs that are creamy and soft under your fingertips.

“I…” You peel back the sopping plastic from her cock and place a light kiss to the head, ��.. want to.”

It takes maybe half a minute, she’s on the edge as soon as your lips close around her. You bob down as far as you can, swirling your tongue and pushing forward until she hits the back of your throat. You squeeze your eyes tightly, holding back the urge to gag even as your eyes water. Your heart rate starts to sky rocket as your airway obstructs but there’s a thrill behind the instinctual fear when it's blurred by a safe reality.

You push gently past the first resistance in your throat and she gets caught halfway. The broadness of her head is stuck there, but she whimpers and moans. The tightness must be enjoyable because the instant you try to swallow around her, she cums.

“FUCK!” She whimpers and her first instinct is to push deeper, thrust further into your throat but she won’t let herself. She pulls back, leaving only the head of her cock between your lips and she whips her hand down to jerk the rest of her length furiously.

You wipe your lips as you rise back up to meet her.

“We can’t go home like this.” She mumbles, thumbing at the mess on your chin and dropping her gaze to take in the crumpled and wet mess of her clothes.

I’m already home, you think, but you can’t say it. Instead you shake your head at her with a sheepish smile.

Natasha reads the hesitance in your eyes, mistaking it for your typical reluctance to go home.

“Hey, it’s not for long. We’ll be out of here on Saturday morning, coasting on the highway and totally free.”

The shine in her eye's is adorable. If it was possible to fall deeper in love with her, then in this moment, you are.

~~~

“Come on, harder Natasha!”

Alexei is terrifying enough as it is, he’s a big alpha with a huge presence. It’s nothing compared to the way he roars at Natasha. She’s under a barbell that looks like it could crush her, a stack of weights on each side threatening to bend the metal of the bar.

“Get it up!” He growls.

She groans as she slams the bar back on the rack and Alexei pulls her up to her feet. He pats her on the back proudly. The height of her head only reaches his shoulder, but she doesn’t look small next to him.

With her back turned to you, you can see the wide patches of sweat on her shirt where it drips down her spine and spreads out along her lower back. She’s panting and you catch her gaze in the huge mirrors.

She spins around with a smile.

“I’ll be right there.” She mouths to you across the gym.

You step back into the change room reserved for athletes and wait in front of Natasha’s locker.

“Hey, you’re here early.”

“Yeah, sorry.” You rush, the air in your lungs disappears and you feel like the words are suffocating. You gasp for a breath, “I just - Well, I was excited and ready so, um.”

Natasha steps closer and you put your rambling to rest by finally pressing up into her lips. She murmurs something intelligible against your lips and her hands slink for your waist.

She pushes forwards hard and your back collides with the metal locker. The door slams shut and the force jostled the ones next to you, the loud crash echoes through the room.

Natasha rips back, her hand searching for the back of your head.

“I’m fine.” You immediately assure her, already trying to entice her back into a kiss.

“I’m so sor-,” She starts to whisper, but your lips crash back into hers, muffling any apology on her tongue.

You make out against the lockers, Natasha hips pressing in close, and you caress the taunt, sweaty skin of her abdomen with teasing fingertips and warm palm that holds her gently.

You pull away with a soft smack, and she searches your face for any clues on what to do next.

“Ah,” You groan lightly, “You should go back, someone’ll see us here.”

You hand smooths the shirt stretching over her shoulder and you give her a pat.

The flirty smile you give her is more confident than you feel.

“I’ll wait for you upstairs?”

“Yeah, I'll be fast.” She rasps, still playing catch-up with her hazy head. She watches as you sneak out the door and it’s a struggle to tear her eyes away from the sway of your hips. When you’re gone she drops back against the locker, her head tilting back with an overwhelmed sigh.

Tonight couldn’t come fast enough.

When Natasha shuffles back into the weight room, she’s met with a knowing look from Alexei. He lifts a bushy eyebrow at her when she sits down.

“What?” She quips, hoping to wipe the obnoxious look off his face.

“What was that about?” He asks, eyeing the door where you just left.

Natasha shrugs him off, “Nothing.”

Alexei slides an extra plate onto her shoulder press and watches carefully for his daughter's reaction, “Have you told her yet?”

“Nope.” Natasha murmurs, popping with ‘p’ with finality.

“Hmm, it’s strange.” He says, cryptic and annoyingly tight-lipped for the first time in his life.

“What?” She mutters, busing herself with a pair of dumbbells, keen to get back to you.

“You said you’re just friends.” He explains, “But omegas don’t just act like that… without a bond.”

Natasha turns to him, frozen stiff.

“No,” Natasha shakes her head emphatically, “That’s just Y/N, she’s always been like that.”

Alexei hums thoughtfully, “Well, don’t wait too long to tell her.”

“Yeah, I know.” Natasha grunts impatiently and takes a frustrated grip on the bar.

“It’ll only get harder, the longer you put it off.” He warns.

She knows he means well, but his words of caution already echo in her mind. I’m telling her tonight, she promises to herself.

~~~

The show was magnificent. Everything you’d dreamt of and more. The atmosphere was unlike anything you’d experienced, elegant and powerful. It meant the most sitting among the crowd with Natasha beside you.

“I used to dance… ballet. You know?”

Natasha turns to face you on the bed, her face squishing into the pillow around her red hair. It’s getting late, you’d caught a taxi back to the hotel room after the concert but all the energy and excitement stops you both from settling down for sleep.

“What?” You spin to her, shocked. “You never told me that!”

She chuckles, self-conscious but secretly delighted by your enthusiasm and the awed look in your eyes.

“Natasha!” You’re practically vibrating, “Oh my god!”

You slow down for a breath and flip your tone at the shy look on her face, “That’s amazing, I bet you were good at it.”

She mumbles a half-hearted denial, “I was okay… it was really intense.”

“Oh?”

“Hmm.”

Her energy drops into something more mellow and she sinks deeper into the pillow.

“A bad ‘intense’?”

Green eyes take a timid look at you and her gaze flickers between both your eyes.

“Sometimes… but there were moments away from that, when it was the music and it moving you… that was the best part.”

Natasha’s a never ending labyrinth of mystery. Just when you think you’ve seen inside her walls, she shows you another locked door. Sometimes it’s safe to knock and other times you know you’ll need to wait for her to open it on her own terms.

But tonight, you’re feeling brave.

“Would you show me?” You ask softly and she looks at you open but totally unreadable.

“Please?”

“Yeah,” She says lightly.

She slides off the puffy hotel bed sheets and moves to the small space between the foot of the bed and the wall. Her socks slide with a little friction of the carpet and she holds a hand out to you on the bed.

“Come’re,” She waves you up to her.

“Oh! Okay…”

You take a couple of awkward steps around to her, “I thought this was going to be more of a demonstration- ”

“Just take my hand.” She counters, sharp and playful.

You answer her feebly, “Ok.”

Your fingers slide over her palm and she gently gasps your hand.

You watch her move her feet, joining her heels together and pointing her feet outwards into a straight line.

“This is the first position.” She says.

As you try to copy her, you start to lose your balance forward and her gasp on your hand lifts you back up. You hold her hand tight for balance and she stays still, strong and stable as a beam. Your wobbling becomes smaller as you keep constantly adjusting and using her as an anchor.

“Oh god…. How are you so… still!”

She chuckles lightly, smiling unashamedly at the way you waver on your heels.

Her feet step outwards and then swiftly back together, crossed at a weird looking angle, “Second and fourth position.” She rasps, pointing at her feet with her spare hand.

“Ooookay.” You mumble and clumsily copy her movement.

Your hair starts to fall into your face from looking down at your feet and your ankles are already starting to hurt from the stretch.

“Ugh… This is only making the concert so much more impressive.”

Natasha hums in agreement.

“Here, I’ll show you a pirouette.”

She drops your hand down gently and takes a step back. Her feet start crossing over and she vaults into a gentle spin, turning around on a single leg and landing back in the same spot like she’d never left. Her dress floats in the air behind her and sweeps down behind her knees when she lands. It’s rare to see her dressed like that, elegant and feminine and soft.

Your eye had practically bulged out from your head at the sight of her when she’d stepped out of the bathroom in a dress, fancy and half on its way to a gown.

“That was beautiful, Nat.” You say and the soft smile she meets you with is addicting and overwhelming all at once.

You clear your throat, “I could show you this old girl…”

Your arm tense and you hunch your shoulder, moving your arms at an angle and imitating an uncoordinated robot.

“Eeep, beep, beep!” You softly mumble out some awkward imitations of robotic arms.

Natasha laughs, thankfully relieved of the pressure.

“Oh, that’s nice… yeah!”

Your arms freeze midair, “Yeah?”

“Or I could do… this,”

You lift your arms and perform an arm wave, rolling your joints in a smooth movement from your wrist to elbow to shoulder and past your chest to the other arm.

“The only thing missing is music.” You jest.

Natasha pulls her phone out and flicks open a playlist. The first song that comes on is slightly upbeat and she dances with you, her own robot and little groove showing up.

Your mid-laugh, her raspy giggle setting your heart on fire when the song ends abruptly and a slower tune plays from the small speaker.

Her fingers stay intertwined with yours as they drop, slow and mellow by your waist.

“How do you feel about slow dancing?” She asks.

You tilt your head thoughtfully, “I think I would like it.”

“You’ve never…?”

You shake her head as she trails off, "I'm way too awkward."

Natasha frowns lightly and she shakes her head, "You are not awkward," She assures you, "At all."

She steps in close and pulls your joined hands up towards her shoulder. When she untangles your fingers, she presses your hand to ridge at her neck and shoulder.

“One hand goes here,” She says softly.

“Okay,”

“And the other…” She reaches for the hand clutched nervously at your waist, “Goes in mine… like this.”

As she steps you back, your feet naturally follow but in smaller steps that feel ridiculous. She passes the edge of the bed and into a slightly bigger space, still cramped between the wall, the bed and a little table, but it’s enough space to move a few small steps in either direction.

She reaches her free hand under yours at her shoulder and she gently curves her arm around your waist, pressing her palm flat and warm against your lower back. Her embrace is like a hug, tight and gentle and close. Your hips press millimetres from flush against hers and it forces your movements to be as smooth as hers.

She guides you easily, naturally and smooth as silk. Two steps forward, then another to the side, two steps backwards and another to the side. Flowing with the soft, slow music and perfectly paced for the tiny space.

Without heels on Natasha is almost your height, slightly taller but broader. Your chin rests just above her collar bone and it lets you lean in closer, almost swaying cheek to cheek as you look over her shoulder.

It's wonderful, but it’s also excruciating.

You can almost feel Natasha’s heartbeat. You can clearly feel the muscle under your palm, the edge of soft skin at her neck. You can smell her.

You can’t help but wonder who will have the pleasure of smelling her, one day, everyday for the rest of their life. Her bond has been a tightly held secret and you understand, Alpha’s are like that. Their bonds are spiritual, uncontrollable and deeply personal. But you can’t help thinking about it, itching to ask her. The fear that she’ll say someone’s name holds you back. If she’s already bonded, then you’ve missed your chance.

Your chin drops to her shoulder and you let your cheek fall against her neck. A few stray wisps of hair brush against your face where she’s slicked her short hair back behind her ears.

This clawing feeling that she’s about to be taken from you makes you clutch her that much tighter. A sudden wave of emotion pricks at your eyes and you lean back to catch your breath.

Natasha’s gaze off behind your shoulder is so gentle, she’s biting her lip with that worried bite that brings her close to drawing blood.

You press a spontaneous kiss to her cheek that slides down to the edge of her mouth and she’s quick to meet you in a languidly tender kiss. When she pulls back, lips smacking softly, you can see she’s troubled by something by the look in her eyes.

Her eyes flicker down to your lips and up to your eyes, again and again. The lace on the edges of her dress starts to tickle at the bare skin of your shoulder and chest and it makes you itch to take it off her.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

Her tone is serious and she’s nervous. You can tell by the way she avoids your gaze. Any thoughts of her without a dress quickly disappear and you give her your full attention.

“Okay,” You whisper and give her a small smile that you hope is encouraging.

“Um,” She fidgets awkwardly in place and there’s a thick and hot tension in the way her voice shakes as she mumbles.

You keep swaying lighty, giving her the space to talk. But now that you’ve stepped away from her, she can see your face. Your eyes are patient but waiting and her head starts to spiral.

She clears her throat and tries again.

“Well… um.” She bites her lip and you can read the frustration that digs deep into her chest.

Your hand drops from her shoulder and you squeeze her bicep reassuringly, “Take your time.”

“Thanks.” She says slowly. The smile she tips her head up to show you is grateful and anxious.

Her hands drop away from you until only your single clasped hands remain swinging between you and you’re almost in the same position as before.

She sighs. Her lips part and her chest expands with a brave breath, ready to speak -

Then the soft music of piano and strings suddenly is muffled by the loud, aggressive sound of a fast pop song blaring from your phone across the room.

“Oh, shit. Sorry!”

You rush over to turn the obnoxious sound off and see that it’s your father’s name across the screen. You give Natasha an apologetic look and swipe across the screen to answer him.

“Hi Dad!”

You wince at the inevitable impatience in his voice. He wishes you a brief Happy Birthday but as always, is more concerned by whatever you might be doing.

“... No, it was just the show. Yeah, the ballet. Oh Father, it was amazing!”

Natasha takes a seat on the bed and watches you smile, remembering how good the performance had been.

“Yeah, Natasha is here... I told you she was taking me… We’re having a good time, Father… No you don’t have to worry. She’s my friend…. Ok. Yes, okay. Good night.”

Natasha’s courage sinks like a rock into water. What was she thinking? Did she suddenly forget about the hundred reasons you would never like her back? She feels so stupid.

You hang up the call and move closer to Natasha. You can tell something has changed, her shoulders hunch and her head looks heavy suddenly.

“I’m so sorry, Tash.”

She shakes her head, rejecting the apology like it’s not necessary. You cautiously place yourself on the bed next to her and you duck your head down to try and make eye contact but she’s hiding herself away with a tense and aimless stare at the ground.

“What were you going to say?” You whisper.

“Oh, um…” Her voice trails off, weakly.

Then she clears her throat and sits up confidently. “No, it was nothing… ”

“Really.” She insists when you give her a raised eyebrow, totally unconvinced.

“You can tell me… please. If you want to.” You reply.

Whatever nerve enabled her to speak before is nowhere to be found in the newfound silence. Sitting without your arms around her, she couldn’t even think of the right words to say, let alone say them.

She just needs to work back up to it, if she just had a little more time…

“Do you wanna go for an ice cream?”

“It’s 10pm,” You whisper, showing her the locked screen of your phone with 9:58 bright across the top.

“This is the city, there’ll be like 3 stores open within a couple blocks. Guaranteed.”

You can tell she’s not ready to go to bed yet, still stuck with words on the tip of her tongue, so despite the weariness settling densely behind your eyes, you agree.

You both leave the hotel in a mix of clothes, your sneakers from earlier and the jumper you’d brought for the morning mismatching the ball gown dresses underneath. Natasha slipped on her boots and a cardigan, looking like a small child dressed in an adult's body.

As you walk Natasha internally curses how right she was about the proximity of ice cream. You find a gelato store squished between an Indian restaurant and a real estate agency only 5 minutes away. It’s not anywhere near enough time for Natasha to work her courage back up and she’s been silent the entire time.

You pay for 2 ice-creams in a cup and cone under harsh neon lights that make your wince.

While you walk back, cutting through a small grass park, your fingers start to freeze around the ice cream cone. Your shoes click on the concrete in tandem with Natasha’s, in a slow pace that lets your feet fall into step lazily following the street back to the hotel. The sugar gives you a mild hit of energy and you realise in the cool evening air that you’re the happiest you’ve ever been.

“I wish we could do this for the rest of our lives.” You say, making Natasha look your way as she scoops her strawberry gelato from her cup.

“Me too.” She says.

“No, Nat. I’m serious… God I wish it could be you and I like this, forever.”

Your words give her hope. Fragile, fluttering and delicate hope.

But when you reach the hotel lobby, Natsha still hasn’t said another word. With every step her mind screamed at her to say something, anything. But you got back up to the room without a hint of what was actually on the redheads mind.

~~~

Fancy hotels equals fancy breakfasts, and Natasha went all out. You stumble half-asleep downstairs with the redhead into a dining room with a buffet spread from the kitchen.

Natasha sits across from you playing around with the assortment of food on her plate. You catch the way she seems to linger on your eyes, almost inching towards speaking but then deciding against it.

“Do you want to talk this morning?” You ask, your voice hinting at her words last night,

She nods slowly, hesitantly.

You take a sip of your coffee and wait for anything more.

“Is it about work?”

“No.” She shakes her head.

“Is it about… us?”

“Kind of… it’s nothing bad or well, ‘wrong’.” Her head tilts as she stumbles on her words, “Well it might be.”

“Oh?”

“No! No, not wrong. I mean, I don’t think so. But I don’t know.”

“Tasha, it’s o- ”

“Excuse me.”

A man, looking to be in his late twenties, interrupts you. He’s stopped by the edge of your table in front of Natasha and he faces down towards you with a slick smile on his face.

“I’m sorry but I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room… You’re beautiful.”

You’re almost certain he’s an alpha. His disposition and inclination to interrupt a conversation he’s not welcome in leads you to a confident conclusion.

“Oh, thank you but I’m sorry, we’re actually busy- ”

“You’re the most alluring Omega I think I’ve ever met. I think I just bonded to you.” He winks, not close to charming and you know he’s only joking. The way he cuts you off is familiar and annoying.

“Well I’m sorry I’m already bonded… to another Alpha so it looks like you’re out of luck.”

You’re confident and something clicks to Natasha that you’re telling the truth. She can feel the unwavering conviction behind your words, her connection with you only heightening her trust in that assessment.

It makes her second guess everything, all over again. You already have a bond?

~~~

tags: @smromanoff @natashasilverfox @lissaaaa145 @mmmmokdok @coxmicbabygirl

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