#minor: natasha romanoff x reader

[wandasaura]

CRUEL SUMMER

summary — maybe you were oblivious to the way you teased natasha with a cherry flavored popsicle, or maybe you’d known all along and you were just waiting for her to break

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, temperature play, outdoor sex, nipple play, oral, degradation, food play (a popsicle and it’s never inserted), mild humiliation, semi orgasm control, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, brief domestic fluff, horrible popsicle stick joke, men/minors dni

authors note — a little summer snippet of our favorite couple! just wanted to expand on a little thought i had a few days ago!

you are in love

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

The cherry flavor was tart as it spread across your tongue and tinted your lips the same color as Natasha’s hair, not your favorite flavor from the selection currently stashed toward the back of the freezer, but Wanda had mistaken it for strawberry when you asked so kindly for a treat. Your tongue swirled around the popsicle lewdly, catching each droplet of thawed syrup and ice before it had the chance to make a mess of your fingers. You had no desire to join your girlfriends in the pool, enjoying the stillness of the lounge chair that you made yourself comfortable against.

Despite your reluctance to plunge deep into the warm water, your body was covered minimally, triangular pieces of fabric concealing only what mattered most, although the visible swell of your breasts was undeniably tantalizing as rivulets of perspiration clung to you.

You waved at Wanda when she resurfaced, giggling softly at the disheveled appearance she sported despite her composed demeanor. The salt water had allowed kinks to form in her silky hair, and thin strands clung to her cheeks despite how she ran her fingers through her tresses and attempted to pull them taut behind her shoulders. She waved back, sending you a teasing wink before she was gone again, a blur of vibrant colors beneath the water as she kicked off the side of the pool and swam toward the deep end; her need for physical activity even on her days off boggled you, but a bored Wanda was not someone you wanted to deal with, so you watched her glide through the water with no outward commentary.

You sighed softly, eyes closing behind the thick frames of your sunglasses, tongue still working on the swiftly melting popsicle, savoring every ounce of tartness that dissolved on your tongue. You could always get up and retrieve another, but they tasted so much better when Wanda did the work for you, and you wouldn’t get so lucky if you asked her again. She’d just barely complied the first time, huffing beneath her breath about how she’d inadvertently turned you into a princess all while she disappeared into the house.

You frowned instinctively when something obstructed the warm sunlight cascading down against your face, inadvertently shielding your body from the gentle burn that was forming against your already tanned skin (this was not the first day you’d spent by the pool with your girlfriends, and it wouldn’t be the last until the cool days of September rolled around). The cloudless sky hadn’t provided anything more than a gentle breeze in hours, and curiously your eyes fluttered open, expecting to find a stray cloud to blame, though only to come up with a set of dangerous green eyes narrowed thinly in your direction.

Shyly, you peered up at Natasha, vibrant cherry popsicle still between your stained lips as you gazed at her sweetly. Droplets of salt water raced down her arms and perfectly toned thighs, sparkling beneath the sunlight she shielded you from. If you hadn’t been aware of how your movements taunted her before, you were now, realizing that her dazzling green eyes weren’t trained on yours like you’d initially thought, but rather watching closely as you lapped at the cool juices that threatened to dirty your hands and dragged your tongue slowly across the length of the frozen treat in an attempt to savor its subpar escape from the heat. Months ago, you would’ve apologized sheepishly, would’ve submitted beneath Natasha’s heavy stare the second it had fallen upon you, but now, with a refreshing confidence and security in your relationship, you moved the sunglasses up to the top of your head, holding her stare as you plunged the frozen treat as far as the wooden stick would allow, hollowing your cheeks only to suck in suggestively as you swirled your tongue around the treat.

“Parshivets.” She muttered beneath her in Russian, and while you were still learning her and Wanda’s native language, that single word was one of the few burned into your mind without translation. Brat. She’d called you that name for the first time only a few weeks ago, in a moment of intense connection that had both of your limbs trembling by the end, but somehow it had stuck just as easily as duckling had. You weren’t sure what you heard more of anymore, your name, or that single title that had wetness pooling in your panties instantaneously.

“Tvoy parshivets.” You rebutted, eyes narrowing challengingly as you glared up at her. Your defiance was the final straw, the last test of her patience, and within seconds, before you could even comprehend what was coming next, your beloved popsicle was in her hands and between her lips. “Hey!”

“Shut up.” She grumbled around the treat, slowly stalking closer, pressing her thighs into the edge of the lounge chair you laid across possessivky, making no move to press her body into yours like you’d anticipated, though the her simple presence was enough to assert ownership. When she pulled the popsicle away from her lips, she tilted it over your body, watching calmly as red droplets of thawed syrup fell against the exposed skin of your chest and belly. You shivered, a displeased whine filling the air that had been silent aside from the sounds of rippling water for so long. “I said: Shut. Up.”

“Why don’t you make me then!” You argued, kicking out in an attempt to rile her up, only to be captured by her strong grip before the sole of your foot could make contact with her thigh. You yelped in surprise when she pulled you down, your head falling onto the lower section of the lounge chair, your knees bent as your uncaptured foot remained steadily on the edge of the chair.

Her lips were on yours in a bruising kiss before you could recover from the abrupt change in position, her body hovering above yours as to not rub against the syrup slowly trickling down your body and staining your bikini top. Her lips were cold against yours, and as she descended down your body, shivers erupted across your spine, not only from the sensation of her icy lips against your pulse point, but in anticipation. Instinctively your thighs fell open, welcoming her body between them, which she appreciated and made sure to acknowledge. You moaned pathetically when her core ground into yours, her mound appling an addictive pressure to your clit.

“Daddy-” You whimpered, your bratty exterior melting away faster than your popsicle as her fingers worked to unravel the knot holding your bikini in place at the nape of your neck, her tongue following the trail of vibrant red syrup down your exposed breast. You gasped when the flimsy material was discarded, her lips wasting no time before they captured your nipple, her teeth biting down on the pebbled bud deliciously hard. A whimpered whine alerted Wanda of your current predicament, yet all the redhead offered was an amused laugh before she dove head first into the water again.

“Do you know what you were doing to me, utenok? Do you know how badly I wanted to come over here and replace that fucking popsicle? You’re all bark and no bite. The second Daddy’s lips are on those needy little nipples all you can do is whine. It’s pathetic.” She sneered, her tone laced with calculated mockery as she kept a firm grip on the stick of your treat, apparently not yet done with it.

Your bottoms were the next thing to go, leaving your body dressed in only a pair of designer sunglasses and red syrup. The last thing you’d been expecting was for her to bite the rest of your ice pop off the stick, swallowing it whole and attacking your unsuspecting cunt, but you watched it happen as if the world was in slow motion, felt the sensations creep into your bones as if they were merely in a movie, but all at once it caught up to you, and the sheer shock of her cold mouth against your hot center had your back arching off the lounge chair, inadvertently pushing your center farther into her face.

She lapped at your cunt with fervent motions. Her teeth nipped, her lips suckled, and her tongue; there were no words to describe the sensations her tongue provoked as she plunged it deep within your core, massaging your sensitive inner walls and your g-spot before she allowed it to soothe your clit with harsh stroke and flicks. Your moans were breathy as you grasped at her hair, pulling harshly at red curls that tickled your thighs as they fell over her shoulders, not sodden with water like Wandas, although for a fleeting second you wondered what it would feel like to have the saturated woman undoing you so passionately.

“Daddy!” You cried out when you felt the approaching pleasure of your orgasm building, your hands pushing at her head, unsure of what you craved more of and what was entirely too much. You whimpered when you felt the stretch of her fingers coming home to your pussy, allowing you no adjustment period as two fingers plunged deep into your cunt, replacing her tongue that instead sought out your tingling bud of hypersensitive nerves. “Daddy! Daddy!” Her name was a sacred mantra on your lips, falling into the air as you writhed beneath her strong grip, attempting to drive her farther into your body.

“You gonna cum? Are you gonna cum for me, parshivets? My filthy fucking girl, getting fucked outside, where anyone can hear you? Is that what you want? You want Agatha to hear you? I bet her windows open. I bet she’s inside, sitting at her table trying to read, but she can’t because all she can hear are your desperate fucking moans as your Daddy fucks you.” Natasha’s words sent vibrations through your core, pushing you closer and closer to the brink of pleasure, though she never permitted it. She never once gave you the answer you needed to fully enjoy it, and fiercely, you fought off your approaching orgasm because of that silent denial.

When her fingers curled into you, massaging that delicate spot that had you seeing stars, you almost begged for her to stop, to lighten up, but before you could, she gave you the one thing you needed. “Cum for me. Make a mess.” Natasha encouraged, rapturing your pulsating clit and spasming walls, drinking all of your pleasure before she pulled away, her mouth glistening, her fingers sparkling. You gasped for breath, chest rising and falling as you panted, the heat only heightening your breathlessness. “You don’t know how long I’ve been holding out for. Wanda thought I’d break the second you unwrapped that fucking popsicle.”

Sheepishly, you giggled softly, readjusting your sunglasses when Natasha stood up and moved aside, the sun falling over your body once more. “I didn’t realize until you came over here. I wasn’t even doing it on purpose.” You admitted, though Natasha had already known that.

“Oh, I know. You’re just too fucking tempting for your own good.” She giggled, kissing your lips sweetly, your arousal still coating her tongue as she licked at your lips teasingly. When she pulled away, she glanced down at the stick in her hands, a soft laugh falling off her lips. “Why did the book join the police force?”

“He wanted to be undercover!” Wanda bellowed from the pool, apparently honed in on your conversation despite how frequently she disappeared beneath the welcoming water.

“I’m all sticky now.” You pouted, realizing that the syrup, despite being licked off, had left a reside on your skin.

“I guess you’ll just have to join us then.” Before you could acknowledge her, Natasha had picked you up in her arms, your bathing suit still discarded on the grass in a messy heap of fabric, although the picket fence around the property prevented you from being seen, so it didn’t matter much if you out it back on or not. You shrieked when you realized what she was doing, but before you could plead for your freedom, she’d dropped you into the deep end.

“Nat!” You scolded when you resurfaced, your freshly washed hair now soiled by the salt water that dampened it.

“Oops?” Your girlfriend sang sweetly, jumping in right beside you, capturing you in her tight embrace with faux sympathy. “Go get Wanda.” She whispered in your ear, and that was enough to win her forgiveness, immediately seeking out your other girlfriend who pretended to despise the way you clung to her like a koala.

“I love you.” You mumbled against her lips, catching her by surprise though not an unpleasant one.

“I thought I got you strawberry. Sorry, baby.” She apologized softly, holding tightly to your naked ass, giving it a teasing spank beneath the water.

“That’s okay. Cherry’s Nat’s favorite.”

[marigoldenblooms]

That's a Wrap - One Shot

Pairing: Director!Natasha x Fem!Actor!Reader x Actor!Wanda (MINORS DNI - 18+)

Summary: You and Wanda can’t seem to get this scene right. With your director’s help, you manage.

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Is Y/N in the room with us right now (They aren’t), Dom!Natasha, Switch!Wanda, Bottom!Reader. Dub-con, power dynamic (Director/Actor), voyeurism, degradation, praise, semi-public sex, semi-orgasm denial, light edging, objectification, oral (W receiving), fingering (R receiving), strap-on use(R receiving), some pet names (baby, sweetheart, darling, ma’am, Tasha(For N), Wan/Wands(For W), Mommy(For W, used loosely)), Nat calls her strap her dick, semi-previous established relationship? Porn with plot, clothed sex, sextape, light aftercare, fluff at the end. 

A/N: Welcome to the first issue of Smut Saturdays! Want to really create some good shit in this genre, so I'm posting at least one spicy fic every Saturday (if I can help it)! This came to me in a vision (called the five minutes before my math class)- After my last smut fic did well (An Important Lesson, Prof!Wanda x Reader, which you can read here), I thought I’d do some WandaNat practice! Not proofread, written in the span of an evening. This is a crime against intimacy coordinators, I’m so sorry. Asides over. Natasha wears a strap to her films and she can dick me down with it, please and thank you!

Word Count: 2.4k - Read Length: 8 minutes, 49 seconds.

~~~

It was never fun when the producers came by. 

They’d always arrive in droves of two or three, never the top dog- as if Natasha’s ‘avant-garde chick flick’, as they called it, wasn’t worth their time. They certainly treated it as much. Today was the worst day for them to arrive, in pressed jackets and always on a phone call, because today you were filming the sex scene. It was more of a ‘romance’ scene, with alluring cinematography and enough passion to make your eyes fall out, yet you hadn’t even gotten to remove any clothes from your beautiful costar- Wanda. You knew she was incredible, her previous films as a fem fatale showing her dominant streak, however the spark couldn’t burn when interruptions from the suits kept happening. You weren’t on a porn set, and yet sometimes you wish you were. Might’ve been faster, or at least more fun. 

“From the top,” A groveled voice muttered, Natasha’s steely gaze breaking into your skull-  though a part of you wished she’d break your back. The redhead had always been an inspiration, one of the leading reasons for your participation in her project, besides her being so fine. But now, she looked pissed, worn down by hours of appeasing the producer’s half-baked suggestions and guarding you and Wanda from their prying eyes. “Yes Ma’am,” you replied, earning a slight chuckle from your director, the twinkle in her eye not lost on you- she was on her last legs, but it was yours and Wanda’s compliance that kept her going.

You’d return to your blocking, centered in the middle of your ‘apartment bedroom’, with Wanda’s hand placed gently on your waist. Your roles were lovers, reuniting after a long day of hardship, slowing down after it all. You’d stare up at her, the mild exasperation in your expression making her smile. She’d send a wink down to you, muttering something about being ‘bored too’, but ‘not hating kissing you again’, or the like. She’d invited you out to coffee tonight, and especially after a day like this, you’d take it. Perhaps you’d even forget the paparazzi and really kiss her as you’d been wanting to do this whole shoot. Throw a bone to the fanfiction writers and make their canon comply with reality. Maybe. It was Natasha’s words which startled you from your thoughts, a look of tenderness overcoming your face as you’d sink into your character, “Action!” 

Within an instant, Wanda hiked her hands under the hem of your shirt, eyes darting down to your face. Her palms were warm against you, smooth against your soft skin, as your head rested gently on her shoulder. She’d tug at the fabric- and you’d send her a quick nod, smiling as you’d lean up to capture her lips in yours-

 “Well that’s not very marketable!” A producer would crow, scoffing with both his hands outstretched towards the two of you. You’d freeze, feeling all of the passion drain out from the scene, no more than a shell of itself. His bald head wasn’t very marketable, looking like a morally dubious Mr. Clean- and yet you didn’t comment on it. He’d look at Natasha, the woman pinching the bridge of her nose with a stern sigh, and you gulped. Oh, shit. She was going to lose it. “Can’t you get their clothes off faster? Our focus groups won’t wait around for-”

“Fucking Christ, get- out!” Natasha shouted, a growl in her tone bringing heat to your face. She scowled, roaring to the surrounding suits, “Leave, get off my set- it’s my fucking turn to direct them.” Her hands would fan away their deer-in-headlights looks, ushering them out before locking the door. Her fiery gaze would bore into you then, jaw locked as her heels would click towards you and Wanda, many feet apart. 

The two shared a knowing nod- And before you could speak, your director grabbed Wanda by her shirt collar and pulled her into a bruising kiss. Your jaw would drop as the brunette’s eyes widened, fluttering shut as Wanda moaned into the embrace- Natasha’s hands planted firmly on her tits. She’d squeeze them, earning a gasp from Wanda, your costar’s head swung back as Natasha swiped her thumbs across her nipples. Your director’s gaze would strike yours, and you understood why Wanda’s submission was so quick. You shuddered at the redhead’s gleaming smirk, her voice a husked whisper, “Get those clothes off and get on the bed for me, baby. Now.” 

“Yes, Ma’am.” Your reply was instant, Natasha’s grin only widening as you’d shed your layers, kneeling on the mattress’s soft sheets. They were cold, goosebumps settling up your spine yet you wouldn’t move, eyes trained obediently on Natasha. You were so perfect for her. 

Natasha’s mouth would return to Wanda’s, pressing her into the faux wall that had outlined the bedroom. Her hand would splay against Wanda’s stomach, and you saw how she hiked up the shirt there, continuing to palm her tits while unclasping Wanda’s bra with the other. She’d pepper kisses across the brunette’s neck, sucking hickeys the lower she’d go. 

They’d part only so Wanda’s top could come completely off, your director keeping a claiming touch on Wanda’s hip as she’d look back at you over her shoulder. Her hair was wild, mused from Wanda’s hands slung loosely around her shoulders while her expression remained flushed, dark eyes darting down to the slick that pooled between your legs. Wanda’s voice would ring to you, almost reverent as her hips would stutter against Natasha’s, “She’s fucking drooling for us, Tasha..” 

The redhead would bite back a smirk as she’d watch you twitch. You ached to touch them, yourself, anything- your hands already balled into fists on your thighs, legs rubbing together, desperate for friction. But neither had given the command, and you had an inkling from their hungry looks that they wanted you needy, right where they had you. Natasha’s rasp came second, “Then show her what I taught you.”

Wanda would reach you first, discarding the rest of her clothes in the process. Her hands trailed warm touches up your legs and to your chest, digging into your soft flesh as her lips would meet yours. It was explosive, sweet and tender yet with a ferocity that claimed you quickly, heating up your skin as her knee would slot between your thighs. You’d feel Natasha’s calloused fingers on the small of your back, the sinking of her weight in the mattress behind you, and her tone husked in your ear, “Stretch her out for me, Wan- like we practiced.” Your director’s words sent a buzz to your core, cunt grinding mercilessly into the sheets below as Wanda’s hand would trail there, dragging two fingers along your folds before arcing dazzling circles around your clit. 

You’d eagerly press your hips into her touch, moaning lowly as she’d chuckle, “So wet for me, sweetheart…bet I can just slip right in.” She’d coax her fingers inside, your pussy walls taking her gladly as Wanda curled her digits against that spongy spot. Your back would arch, head growing fuzzy as you’d feel your slick drip down her hand. Her thumb would press into your clit as you’d buck your hips against her, cursing a quick “Fuck-” which was quickly swallowed up by Wanda’s mouth. She’d bite your lip, dragging it with her teeth as she’d settle into her rhythm, spare hand palming your tits with a rougher grasp, “Been waiting for this, haven’t you sweetheart- pretty whore, just for us.”

 “Mhm, good girl just wants to be fucked, don’t you?” Natasha would grit, and you could see her stroking something behind your back. She’d unzipped her slacks- her strap heavy in her hand, glistening with the spit she’d gathered in her palm. Natasha bucked her hips against her hold, cursing as the cock’s base would rub against her clit. She looked incredible, sweat across her brow as her hand would clench around the toy, like she could feel it. “Keep going, Wands- want her perfect for my dick.”

 Natasha would pant, breathing ragged as her hand moved in time with Wanda’s fingers- curling into you almost torturously, feeling your cunt clench around her. The brunette’s kiss would claim you again, moaning into her warmth as her thumb would circle your clit. She’d sigh almost lovingly, fondness overtaking her expression as your head found the crook of her neck, “She’s already perfect, Tasha-” She’d coo, although her hand wouldn’t stop, gasping at the squelching sound of her fingers up your cunt, “This pussy was made for us, darling.” 

Their words and touch brought you so close, yet Wanda’s hands slowed down when she felt your legs quiver or your breathing seize up, never giving you what you needed. You’d squirm against Wanda, begging for more, a lingering touch, anything-  “Please, Wan- I‘m so close,” You whined, earning a tut from your costar. She’d devour your pleas, lost to time as her mouth would reach yours, softer than before. You felt her sympathetic smile against you as she’d shake her head, locking eyes with Natasha’s heavy stare, “Not yet, sweetheart..It’s not my turn anymore.”

The redhead groaned when Wanda slid her fingers out of you, her fingers shimmering with your arousal. Your walls fluttered around nothing, aching for anyone’s touch as you felt Natasha’s rugged grasp on your hips, pulling you up and back so your pelvis was against hers. The strap had warmed in her hand, dragging between your legs. You were dripping for her, soft sparks of pleasure seizing you as her tip would brush against your clit. Her voice would thunder through you, almost delirious with her own need, “Fucking finally..want this pussy all to myself…” 

Wanda would chuckle at that, your director kneading at your hips as Wanda’s thighs settled in front of your mouth, your arms propping yourself just above her soaked cunt. “We promised to share, Tasha..” She’d croon, face flushed and touch softer than Natasha’s as she’d cradle your face in her palms, “Such a pretty girl..are you ready for your reward, darling?” You nodded, a flurry of sensation hitting you all at once- Natasha’s strap sinking into you as the redhead would push your shoulder blades down, pressing your face between Wanda’s legs. 

The stretch was incredible, the woman behind you vicious as she’d drive her dick into you, bottoming out as your mouth would be smothered against Wanda’s cunt. Each thrust would drive Wanda crazy, your gasps and whimpers vibrating right into her core, especially as you’d flat your tongue against her clit, suckling on the sensitive nub. Her thighs would threaten to shut on you, her stretched words lost in your pussydrunk haze, “Yes, like that sweetheart- such a good girl..-” Natasha would rock her hips into yours, pace bruising as she’d pull your thighs flush to hers. You’d hear her muffled curses as she’d bottom out again, sighing as if she could feel you clench around her. “Baby..fuck, so perfect for us…” Wanda’s hands would thread into your hair, anchoring her hold on you as she’d press your face further into her cunt. 

The sight would echo a curse from Natasha’s mouth, her hips growing a little more erratic, “Fucking christ, she’s our perfect little whore, aren’t you baby-” You’d try to nod, moaning as Natasha’s hand would press further into your back, keeping you from moving an inch, “Don’t even think, baby- just fucking take it, fuck-” 

Time would seem to slow, your brain fuzzing into blissful static as you’d feel Wanda’s thighs tremor around your head, her grip tightening as she’d see your body tremble in Natasha’s touch. “Come with me, sweetheart- be a good girl and come for Mommy.” Her saccharine words spurred you into a blinding release, your tongue working Wanda through her orgasm as your body quaked with your own. You’d feel Natasha follow shortly thereafter, cursing aloud as she’d pull herself out of you, watching as you’d clench around nothing. Her hands would immediately find your waist, bringing you gently up to kneel with your back against her clothed front. 

Panting, your arms would shake as you’d catch your breath, leaning up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. You could feel both women’s eyes on you as you’d suckle on your fingers, cleaning up with an exaggerated moan, looking towards Wanda as you’d pop your hand out of your mouth, your words almost dreamy, “Mmm, so good, Wan..” You’d giggle as Wanda’s face would alight in blush, although the clink of metal and fabric drove you away from your teasing.

Natasha’s hands would be rushed as she’d pull her pants and harness down, eyes heavy with a lust that made you shudder, “Switch with me, Wands-” She’d grit, thrusting the strap in her general direction before settling calloused palms on your still quivering thighs, her gaze boring into yours, “It’s my turn for her mouth.” 

Wanda’s smirk was immediate, sending you another sly wink, “Gladly.” 

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

Unbeknownst to the three of you, the cameras had never stopped rolling. That film would never be seen by the public, kept hidden once you left the building. Not to say it couldn't be enjoyed by you three, though.

Natasha and Wanda took you out to coffee afterwards as the brunette had promised. They explained their prior agreement to ‘test the waters’ with you, Wanda working with Natasha on a plan to woo you both in and out of character. The date went well, although with much less lingering glances and more almost-fucking in the back of Wanda’s car afterwards. It was there that the public and paparazzi learned of your relationship, although their camera flash thankfully stopped any romance before it got good. You weren’t on a porn set, after all- and Wanda kept your half-nude form hidden while Natasha cursed out the press. All in a day’s work. 

Unfortunately, the day’s work began anew the next day. Filming the romance scene was no difficult measure now, but Natasha’s grin and Wanda’s wandering hands blurred the lines of professionalism. The film crew couldn’t care less, a few of them- such as Kate, a script supervisor- mentioned how they knew it would happen eventually (and won a bet with Peter, who said it’d take until the award show for you three to get together). 

However, once you three escaped into Natasha’s office for some ‘paperwork’ as she’d called it, it didn’t matter. They were yours, and that was enough.  ~~~

[romanovthinkver]

you love doing blowjobs to natasha.

she’s tired? blowjob. she’s angry? blowjob. she’s packed up with work? blowjob. whatever her mood is, you’re always ready to kneel by her and bobbing your sweet empty head of yours. gagging sound and natasha’s moans would fill the room, cheeks hallow and tears streaming down your pretty face. ropes of saliva and cum fill your mouth as her mushroom head twitches and push forcefully in you.

you’re always happy to be pretty and suck her off while she stress about big things, your mouth always filled with her cum to not having you on her nerves too.

her callouses hands gripping at your scalp, pushing you up and down or keeping you still while her hips thrust more of her inside your warm mouth.

you would look at her with doe pretty dumb eyes as a smirk spread on her lips. slender fingers gripped at the big fat cock head brushing it on your lips, patting your cheeks in mocking, sliding on your tongue until she blow off on your face painting your pretty face in white, sticky, cum.

such a beautiful cock sucker, look at that, fuck–ugh.

let me deep throat you, pretty girl, i wanna bury this big cock in your little mouth of yours and make it fit.

oh baby girl you look like a cheap whore with this big cock stuffed in your mouth and not even whining. is that what you like, hm? yes, ‘cause you’re daddy’s cockwhore.

yes–ugh. there we go, baby, swallow daddy’s treat just like that. yes, yes, pretty thing, i do not want a single drop waisted.

oh sweets. such a painting, aren’t you? look, baby, all daddy’s cum on your face. you’re so pretty.

inbox is open to requests

[redroomreflections]

Out of Office

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: R gets a special surprise to her office

The Loud House Universe (this is not an au of the au. This is real life =))

W/c:3.8k

Play this when you read it https://open.spotify.com/track/4isk4UYRcmslphcTq61xUg?si=1vKGqQ_uQ2-Go9CEdnRq_g

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI

One of the perks of being the Assistant District Attorney of New York City is having your own corner office. The large windows offer a stunning looking of the bustling skyline of New York City. Of course the perks go beyond just the offices. There’s the satisfaction of tackling high-profile cases, the thrill of courtroom victories, and the respect that comes with the title. Today, you’re enjoying one of those benefits that’s seeming to be more like a con.

This meeting was boring to say the least. The topic had been on a rise of criminal activity in the area and how to prevent it. Normally, you would have been all ears. However, this meeting was anything but normal. It was the first meeting after the holidays and your coworkers were still in the post-Christmas mood.

The usual professional atmosphere was gone.

You sit in a chair across from the head of the long table, listening as best you can to the discussion.

"How about we continue this tomorrow?" Alex Cabot, your DA and overhead suggested. "Y/n? Any objection to that?"

You look up in surprise, wondering if you had missed something.

"No, not at all."

Alex smiles at you and then at the other two women.

"I think that's a good idea." You agree. "I'll get back to you with my thoughts on the Coleman case."

The three other women begin packing up their bags and heading out.

"Thanks for the meeting." You say as you get up and gather your things. "It was very informative."

Alex chuckles, clearly seeing right through your fib. "You used to be a much better liar than that."

"I'm just trying to be polite." You smile. "After all, we are in a room full of lawyers."

Alex laughs. "That we are. I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Tomorrow."

You leave the room, feeling like you could breathe again. You head to your office and stop by your assistant's desk in order to check mail and messages. The meeting was supposed to be thirty minutes and lasted more than an hour. You were more than tired. You were ready for the day to be over.

"Hey Y/n, a message came in for you earlier." Your assistant, Haley says. "You still need to review the police report for Jones and Jones. Also, an interview with Cass Daniels."

You sigh and look down at the file you're holding.

"Great, I'm swamped. Is the file with the Jones's case available?"

Haley nods and hands you a brown folder.

"Anything else I can help with?"

You shake your head and smile. "Unfortunately, not this time around."

"Hey, y/l/n, “ Your colleague Doug Stone greets. He does a little jog over to the desk.

"Hi, Doug, " You return. "Just the man I was looking for."

He looks confused. "Really?"

You hand him the file. "I just spoke with Alex. She says she wants you to handle the Jones case."

"But what about the-"

"I already reviewed it and made notes." You interrupt. "Just make sure to check out the new witnesses and that'll be it."

"Okay, so no problem." Doug nods, looking unsure. "Anything else I can do?"

You smile and shake your head. "Actually," You smirk. Just to get under his skin.

"Oh no," Doug shakes his head.

"I need you to get me a copy of the police report." You finish.

"You have one."

You shrug. "I think it would be a good idea to double check."

Doug rolls his eyes. "You know I came over here to see if you could ask the misses to go ahead and make some of that special eggnog she made over the holidays. Special order just for me."

You move to rebuttal when you hear a familiar husky voice behind you. You turn to see your wife standing there with that familiar smirk on her face. Natasha stepped further into the floor, her presence commanding attention. She had chosen a slightly floral midi dress that hugged her curves, the soft fabric contrasting with her typical demeanor. With her red hair pulled back and her eyes sharp and observant, she exuded a mix of elegance and strength.

"You can ask me yourself," Natasha grinned. She stepped closer to you and wrapped her arm around your waist. You landed a quick kiss to her head before looking over at Haley with questioning eyes. She's supposed to remind you if something important like your wife visiting.

"Sorry," She apologizes, quickly. "I was just about to tell you."

"It's okay, Haley," You wave off, smiling. "What brings you by, baby?"

"Can a girl come visit her wife in her office? I'm sure Tammy comes to see you all the time right, Doug?" Natasha tilts her head.

"Uhh..um, yes," Doug stumbles over his words.

Natasha gives him a smile. "Good." She looks up at you. "So, how's your day, babe? I didn't catch you at a bad time, did I?"

"Not at all," You answer.

"Actually, y/l/n has some errands to run," Doug cuts in.

"And Doug has a case to take over," You reply. Natasha looks suspiciously between the two of you.

"We're not going to have a problem, are we?" She asks.

"Of course not." Doug assures.

Natasha nods and smiles. "I'd hate to have to break up this lover's quarrel you two are having. But I would like to spend some time with you before your lunch is over." By the look in her eyes, you know exactly why she's come to your office so unexpectedly.

"Not a problem," You nod.

"I'm free for the rest of the day," Doug says. You send him a glare. "I'll just get a start on those files." He adds before making himself scarce. 

You give him a thumbs up. "Perfect. Haley, cancel my meetings for the next hour."

"Sure thing,"

You take Natasha's hand and lead her down the hallway towards your office.

"I love it when you get bossy," Natasha whispers, biting her lip. You feel the blush creeping up your neck.

"That was nothing," You wave off. You walk before her into the office to clear up a few things on the couch. The last thing she needs is to see how messy you are at work. "Where's Luke and Paige?"

"I left them with my mom today," She says disinterestedly.

"Oh, that's cool then," You nod.

"Now do you want to hear about Luke's diapering schedule, or should we talk about other things?" She steps over to you. It's then you notice the heels she's wearing. Those sexy Manolo Blahnik pumps in a deep blue that accentuates all of her curves.

"I think I want to talk about whatever you want to talk about," You answer honestly. You place your hands on her hips and pull her close. She giggles, placing her hands on your chest.

"Good," She leans in for a quick peck. "You're in a good mood today."

"That's because you're here." You hum. "You taste good."

"Lemon and ginger," She smiles.

"That's what it was. You taste delicious." You lean in again and capture her lips in a deeper kiss. Your tongue glides over her lips, coaxing them open. "Mm, I think you should surprise me in the office every day."

"If only I could." Natasha sighs. "Your coworkers would get tired of me or become jealous of you."

"I don't care." You whisper against her lips. "I only care about what's happening right now."

"Oh, is that so?" Natasha bites her lip.

You nod and reach around, smacking her ass. "That's what you're here for right? You couldn't wait for me to come home?"

"Something like that." She grins. She leans forward to kiss you again. This time as a distraction while she unbuttons your silk button down with her nimble fingers. Her lips are soft and warm against yours.

You pull away from the kiss and smirk. "We can't have sex in the office."

"That's a first." Natasha chuckles. "Why not?"

"I don't know if I'll want to stop after one round," You sigh when her hands find bare skin underneath your shirt.

"Hmm, we'll have to be quick then." Natasha murmurs, pressing her lips to your neck.

"I don't know," You groan when her teeth scrape across your pulse point. "You're quite loud."

"I guess you'll just have to keep me quiet," Natasha bites down on your neck. You let out a whimper, your body shivering.

"Damn it, Tasha," You growl.

She pulls back and flashes you a wide grin. "Do you think you can keep me quiet?"

"I don't know if I want you to be quiet," You open your eyes.

"Oh, is that so?" Natasha grins. She pulls your shirt down off of your shoulder, revealing your lacey black bra. She moves to do the same to the other side.

"Natasha," You warn.

"I'm just looking," She says as her eyes roam over your torso. "Admiring."

"Yeah, admiring is going to get us in trouble," You shake your head.

"Fine, fine," She steps back, taking her warmth and heat with her.

"Are you pouting?"

"I am," Natasha lowers her hands onto her hips. "You're denying me what I want."

"Come here," You offer a hand. She takes it and you lead her over to the couch. You sit down and pull her onto your lap. She settles her knees on either side of your hips and rests her hands on your shoulders. You begin rubbing her thighs, smoothing your hands across the smooth nylon of her leggings before you rip them. The sound drowning out the harsh breaths both of you are taking. You're so glad this office is at the corner and also doesn't have glass windows. Of course, she always gets what she wants.

"I thought you said we can't have sex."

"We're not," You murmur, your eyes focusing on the swell of her breast. "But we can do other things."

"Other things," Natasha nods. "Like what?"

"Just sit there and let me touch you," You say, pulling her down for a kiss. "You don't have any objection to that, do you?"

"None," Natasha says softly, her breath fanning over your lips. At the first press of your thumb against damp panties, Natasha lets out the sharpest squeak deep from the back of her throat.

"Told you that you would be loud."

"Shut up." She moans, her hips canting forward, chasing the contact. You give her another rub through the soaked material, her wetness seeping through. "Are you going to tease me?"

"Yes," You answer simply, kissing the exposed skin of her chest.

"Fuck, baby." Natasha groans.

"Shhh," You tsk, "Be a good girl and stay quiet for me."

"I want you inside," Natasha lowers her head to look you in your eyes. She reaches behind her back to unzip herself. She lifts her dress over her head and drops it onto the floor. She leans back over you and presses her chest to yours.

"I have a feeling this isn't going to end well." You groan, your eyes focused on her soft and supple breasts.

"I don't think we're going to get caught."

"Maybe." You murmur.

"Y/n, are you listening?"

"Huh?" You snap out of your daze. It's then you feel another wave of arousal as she releases her hair from its ponytail. She leans back on her hands and gives you a smug smile.

"Are you listening, Mrs. Romanoff?"

"I'm listening," You swallow thickly. You can't help but take her in.

"So, how about it?"

You look at her confused. "How about what?"

"I knew you weren't listening," Natasha laughs.

"I was thinking about how gorgeous you are," You admit. "How sexy you are. All the things I want to do to you."

"Oh yeah?" She grins. "Like what?"

"Well," You start, running a finger across her cheek. "First, I would have you sit there and watch as I undress."

"I'm interested," She looks you over. You should probably take those pants off unless you want them to be ruined with her juices. Not that you would mind it that much.

"I would go slowly. I would leave on my heels and my bra."

"Your bra?" She arches a brow. "No, take off your bra."

"Are you going to be difficult, or can I finish?"

"I'm sorry, continue," She waves a hand.

"Anyway, I would leave my heels and bra on. Then I would lay back on the couch and spread my legs for you. I'd want you to use your mouth and fingers."

"Mmm," Natasha hums.

"I'd have you fuck me with your fingers until I came all over them." You whisper, tracing her lips. "Then I would do the same to you. Just how you like it."

"How many times would you make me come?"

"Until you can't take it anymore." You answer. "Then I would clean you up with my mouth. Would you like that?"

"Fuck, yes," Natasha moans, her hips bucking against yours.

"Are you turned on, Tasha?"

"I'm beyond that," She admits. "I've been thinking about this since this morning."

"Yeah? You couldn't wait to have my hands on you."

"No," She whines.

You tap her thighs, instructing her to lift up so that you can strip yourself of your clothes. You rush over to the office door, locking it to ensure you won't be disturbed.

"What are you doing?" Natasha calls.

"Just making sure no one comes in and sees you like this," You explain, stepping back over to her. "They can't see what's mine."

"Would you let them watch?" She dares to ask.

"No," You growl, pulling her into your arms.

"And here I thought the idea would turn you on." She teases, trailing a finger along your collarbone.

"It does," You answer truthfully.

"But," She raises her brow.

"It turns me on to know that they can't have you," You admit. "Only I can touch you and see you."

"Touching has been minimal," She raises a perfectly arched brow.

"You're right," You smirk.

"How about we fix that," She whispers.

You nod and sit back down, taking her with you. You help to slide her panties off, tossing them to the side, before you get an idea. You pull her over to your desk, her eyes following yours quizzically before you bend her over. Your hands rub against the expanse of her back. You can't take your eyes off her perked-up ass and pussy on display for you.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting an idea."

"For?"

"This," You say, sliding a finger inside of her. Her walls tighten around the intrusion, and you let out a low moan.

Natasha's back arches and she hisses. You know it's not a sound of pain but pleasure. She wasn't expecting you to do it but she for damn sure loves it.

"I knew you'd be turned on by this," You tell her. You pump your finger a few more times before adding another.

"I am," Natasha agrees.

"Is this what you want, Tasha?” You slap her ass. "For me to fuck you like this. Have you dripping all over my desk?"

"Y/n," Natasha groans. "Stop teasing and give me what I want."

"What do you want, Natasha?" You question, curling your fingers. Twisting them as you thrust back into her.

"I want you to make me come."

"Not yet." You tell her. "I want to hear you."

"Baby," She whines, her hips rocking against the desk.

"What is it?"

"You're driving me crazy." She pants. "You have no idea what this is doing to me."

"I have some idea," You say cheekily as you watch your fingers, glistening with her slick, slide in and out of her with ease.

"Stop teasing and fuck me," She hisses.

"You want me to fuck you?"

"Please, y/n." She moans. "I'm so wet for you."

"I know," You hum. You push her legs open a bit wider. "Stay still for me."

"Fuck," She whimpers.

You lean over and pepper her back with kisses. Her skin is so warm and soft. You wish you could take your time, but you're both already on borrowed time. You speed up then, using your hips to add the slightest bit of force behind your thrusts. You know she likes it, her body shivering beneath you.

"That's it," She coos.

You place a hand on her back and move your thumb to her clit. You begin rubbing it in slow, circular motions. Natasha turns her head against the cool surface of the desk, her nipples becoming hard pebbles against the wood.

"I love seeing you like this," You whisper. "Taking everything I have to give."

Natasha's only response is a deep whimper. Not good enough for you.

"You love taking my fingers," You taunt. "But not as much as I love giving them to you."

"Shit, y/n, fuck." Natasha's body begins trembling. Her breathing becomes uneven. Her pussy walls fluttering against your fingers.

"Are you going to come, Tasha?"

"Yes, fuck." She cries. "Make me come, baby."

"Fuck, I love it when you call me that." You groan. You add a third finger, pumping faster. Her body quakes as you hit the right spot. Her toes curl as her orgasm tears through her body. Her moans are unbridled now, and you reach forward to press a hand against her mouth. That seems to turn her on more. Her body shaking beneath yours. Her body jerking from the aftershocks.

"Are you okay, baby?"

"I'm better than okay," She grins. "But if you don't fuck me again in the next five minutes, I'm leaving."

"Turn around," You instruct her. You help her on shaky legs to turn around and sit on your desk. This is going to be a bit more difficult to maneuver but you do. You drop to your knees and grab her thighs to pull her to the edge of the desk.

"I've need to taste you all day," You murmur to yourself.

"Baby," Natasha whimpers, her fingers resting atop your head. "I need you."

"You have me," You reply before swiping your tongue through her folds. She's so warm and delicious.

"Don't tease," She gasps, her legs trembling.

You look up at her from your place between her legs. Your eyes never leave hers as you wrap your lips around her clit, sucking.

"Just like that," She adds the gentlest bit of pressure for you to bob your head. The slurping noises for added effect have her head dropping down she can't handle it. "So close, baby. Don't stop."

"Never," You murmur against her. "I love this. Love eating you out."

"Y/n," She gasps, her hips lifting off the desk.

"Come for me, Natasha," You coax her.

She's so close to the edge, and she can't help it. She's helpless against the orgasm that rips through her body. She can barely hold herself up as you suck her through the orgasm, lapping up the juices spilling from her.

"Fuck," She whimpers.

You stand and kiss her, your tongue tangling with hers.

"Let me," She finally pulls back. She pulls you down to the floor before she pushes you onto your back. Rug burn be damned.

"Tasha," You gasp when she wastes no time in slipping two fingers inside of you.

"You're so wet," She groans. "I love you." She nuzzles your neck.

"I love you too." You murmur, reaching down to guide her thumb to your clit. "Harder."

Natasha's body covers yours. Her lips latch onto your neck. Her teeth scrape along the flesh. You know you're going to have a hickey there tomorrow. It doesn't matter. You're hers and she's yours.

"Tasha," You groan. "Please."

"Shh," She whispers, her other hand caressing your breast. She pinches your nipple, delighting in the shiver that runs through your body.

"Please," You beg her. "Make me come."

"Anything for you," Natasha smirks, curling her fingers. She thrusts harder. Faster.

"Fuck, I'm going to come." You warn her, your body tensing.

"I've got you," Natasha tells you. "I've got you, baby." She coos as you whimper pitifully.

"Don't stop," You beg. "Oh my god, don't stop."

"Never," She growls. "Come for me, y/n. I want you to soak my hand."

You cry out as you reach your peak. Your back arches off the carpet, and you ram yourself onto her fingers. You don't want to lose this feeling.

"Fuck, I can't," You sob.

"You can," She whispers, her breath fanning across your lips. "One more. Come on, baby."

"I can't," You sob. "Tasha, please."

"I've got you," Natasha promises.

Your body begins shaking as a second orgasm rips through your body. You're unable to form words as you're consumed by your desire. You don't even remember that you're at work and the possibility that if anyone were to come by your office, they could probably hear you.

"There you go," Natasha smiles, her eyes focused on you. "I'm right here, baby."

"Tasha," You whimper.

"Right here."

"Don't move," You pant.

Natasha uses her unoccupied hand to open the bottom drawer of your desk and take out a towel.

"What are you doing?" You ask her.

"I'm going to clean you up," She says, gently wiping your inner thighs.

"Thank you," You whisper.

"Always," She smiles.

"You're so good to me."

"You're pretty good to me," She winks, kissing the top of your head.

"What time is it?"

"Time for us to get the hell out of here." Natasha laughs.

"You're right," You sigh. "Can we go home?"

"I was thinking maybe we could order a pizza, put on a movie, and have dessert later."

"I think I could deal with that." You nod. "I can't walk just yet."

"I'll carry you," Natasha teases with a smug look. 

"Shut up," You laugh, swatting her away. "You know you're a little cocky after we fuck."

"And you're cute."

"Stop," You groan.

"I don't want to," Natasha replies.

"What do you want?"

"You," She answers. "Always."

"I'll be yours forever."

"Forever," She repeats.

"We should go," You whisper.

"I'm ready when you are."

"Let's get out of here."

Coming out of the office would be a little awkward. You should probably open a window. Your cheeks heat up at the thought. It was some of the hottest sex you had with her, and you can't believe that it happened here.

"You look nervous," Natasha notes.

"I'm not," You say.

"Liar."

"Tasha, come on. Let's go home."

"Whatever you say," She grins, taking your hand in hers.

"You're annoying," You mutter.

"And yet, you still love me."

"Unfortunately," You grin.

"I heard that," She calls.

"I meant for you to hear it."

"Brat," She says affectionately.

You really do love her.

[potentialsandwhich]

Fucking the Enemy Part 3

[Pairing: Bottom!Natasha Romanoff x Top!Reader ] (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

->Villain!Reader

AN: I am nothing, if not a whore for Nat. That is all. Thank you.

Summary: She had to get the information out of you. The only question is, what is she willing to do to achieve that goal?

Warnings: 18+, Smut, porn with no plot, strap on, restraints (e.g ropes), sex in exchange for information, daddy kink (let me know if I need to add more)

You had known the Avengers were growing desperate.

"Fuck! She won't tell us anything!"

But you really hadn't expected them to cave in this fast.

"Let me speak with her, Steve."

It must've been your lucky day.

"Only if you let me come with you."

"No, it would be better if it was just me and her. Clear out and let me do my work."

Yeah, it was definitely your lucky day.

"Just don't jump her bone this time, Romanoff."

You tried your best to school your features away from the smirk that threatened the corners of your lips.

"Hello, Agent." You purred as your favorite Avenger opened the door to the interrogation room.

Natasha didn't answer, only glowering over at you in silence.

"It's been a while since we last talked, hasn't it?" You continued anyways, already well acquainted with the Russian's silent treatment by now, "Though, I suppose talk wouldn't be the right word for what we did." You could almost feel the phantom sting of biting nails along your back again, and you let your gaze trailed blatantly down the redhead's form, "Finally came back for more?"

Natasha's eyes burned into you with dark intensity that threatened you with a slow death.

"Fuck off with the games, (Y/N)," She snapped, sharp and abrupt, clear in her impatience, "You're going to start talking, now."

You knew exactly what she wanted, of course: information. Some idiot had planted bombs around New York City and SHIELD needed intel on where they were.

Furrowing your brows, however, you only stared back in mock confusion, "Sorry, but isn't that what we're doing right now? Talking?"

Natasha's arms crossed into a mix of mild annoyance and stern determination as she approached towards you.

Stopping at the table in front, she planted two hands onto the surface, leaning across to glare down at you, "Stop playing dumb. The bombs. Start talking now." She reiterated. There was a silent warning in her tone that challenged you to defy her, and though you could tell she had no weapon on her immediate personnel, you also knew she, herself, was the deadliest weapon in her own right.

Yet, you couldn't help yourself, "And what if I don't?" You baited, sending her a look of indifference that you knew would annoy her.

She was fast.

One second she was a table and then some away from you, the next she was right next to you, fisting a ball of the front of your shirt and pulling you threatingly towards her. The rope binding you to the chair you sat in bit into your skin as your arms lifted against them, "Don't test me, (L/N)." Her face was close, and because of the position she had over you, you were forced to crane your neck up from your restraints to meet her gaze, "I can and I will make you talk."

Her hair shadowed much of her features, hiding them, giving her green eyes an eerie glow that seemed to pierce right through you.

You swallowed hard, discreetly so that she wouldn't notice.

She did anyways.

Reluctantly breaking her gaze, you pulled back from the redhead as best you could, her hold on you iron tight and unrelenting, "You know, I've never been one to enjoy being constrained..." You complained, jostling your restraints lightly to emphasize your point. You ignored the scorching red burns that had already begun to form around your wrists from the rough threads of the rope, "And I don't particularly like being the one in the disadvantage either..." Natasha listened without so much as a flicker of emotion, just a silent demand for you to get to the point.

Glancing down at the ropes currently tying you, you eyed the knots for a breath. Then, moving your gaze back up, you leaned back towards Natasha, getting up into her space like she had done to you just moments before, "But I must say, Tasha," The utterance of such affectionate name elicited just the tinniest peek of surprise from the redhead, "Things are just different with you." Faint confusion flickered behind steely green eyes, "And I would be lying right now if I were to say that I don't find this whole bad cop thing you're doing extremely hot."

The immediate tightening of Natasha's jaw and the utter disbelief that overtook her face had you biting back another smirk, "Tell me what you know." She ordered again, barely containing her frustration now.

Scrunching your nose in distaste, you simply shook your head, "Mmmm, no thanks."

The redhead scoffed and you watched as she let her ill-fated attempt at intimidation slip away to anger, "You're utterly ridiculous!" She dryly exclaimed, shaking her head, "There are bombs out there and you are too busy playing childish games!"

You shrugged without an ounce of care, "Well that's not really my problem though, now is it?" The withering glare the question earned you was threateningly ominous.

"New York City is your home."

Humming, you shrugged off her argument, "I can always find a new one. Crime is a mobile occupation."

The grip on your shirt tightened, "Not if I put you in jail first. Why won't you tell me what you know?!"

You couldn't help the laughs that escaped you, one at her suggestion that she could ever catch you, and another at her painfully stupid question, "Because that's not what I do! I'm one of the bad guys, if you don't remember, Tasha. When have I ever done something unincentivized? That's kind of the whole shtick."

Natasha's eyes flashed in pure frustration and you leaned back in anticipation at what was sure to be her impending explosion, deriving great pleasure in seeing the usually so well composed Black Widow worked up and angry, especially from your own doing. But then, an inexplicable calm took over.

Her jaw slowly loosened up and suddenly Natasha was leaning back from you.

"Okay, so what is it?"

The question was met with silence.

You quirked a brow up, not following.

Natasha searched your face and you returned the favor - two distrusting souls trying to read the other's intention, "What is it you want?" She clarified, pressing her lips into a thin line, "You said that you don't ever do anything unincentivized, so what I'm asking is what do you want for your intel." Slow understanding trickled in. You straightened your back in interest and the redhead noted the change, doubling down her efforts, "What is it you want, (L/N)? Money? Leniency? P-"

"You?"

Whatever Natasha had been planning to say next was lost in her shock, "What?"

You leaned forward as far as you could, closing the space she had placed between you, ignoring the ropes digging into your skin again, "I said, you." You didn't miss the way Natasha suddenly seemed uncertain and had to hide away the satisfaction of knowing that the power had shifted back to your court, "You asked me what I wanted, Tasha. What if I just want you?"

The question hung in the air.

You were kidding about your request - simply mocking the Russian for what she was suggesting: that you could be so easily swayed with empty promises and bribery.

You had expected her to say no.

But to your surprise, Natasha didn't. Instead, she suddenly moved closer, closer than even before.

Slotting a knee between your thighs, the redhead used the leverage of the chair to help her up until she was all but atop you. Her hands moved to cup your face and lift your gaze up, and you felt a shiver run through at the sudden contact.

Soft red hair cascaded over leather cladded shoulders, strands falling past to tickle your cheeks as they swayed in the air. The sudden heat of Natasha body pressed against yours was a startle change to the otherwise cold room.

You swallowed hard at the unexpected action. This time for real. "What are you-"

"Then you can have me."

Her proclamation, spoken in a low, seductive voice, sent an inexplicable streak of arousal through you, right down to your core.

Without being able to stop it, your breath hitched in surprise.

"Huh?"

It was your turn to be shocked now, your single word answer more than evidence enough of how caught off guard you were.

Running a thumb across your bottom lip, Natasha's gently pressed the tip into your mouth, just enough so that she could lightly graze your teeth with her nail, "I said, then.you.can.have.me." She clicked in the same mocking tone you had used on her.

Narrowing your eyes, you stared up at her, a mix of surprise and suspicion interlacing in your gaze, "Are you teasing me right now, Romanoff?" You accused, unsure of how you wanted her to answer.

A small smirk played on the corners of invitingly red lips, "I'm quite serious with my offer, (L/N), if you're serious about yours."

The roaring in your ears overtook your senses, "Is that right?"

Dull, blunt nails dug into your skin in challenge, "Me in exchange for information on the bomb, do we have a deal?"

Meeting Natasha's gaze with lidded eyes, you allowed yourself just a second of ponderance - a flicker of hesitation to save some face and hide your eagerness - but even all of that was in vain, the answer to her question having already been long decided the second it was asked.

"We have a deal."

The moment your lips met Natasha's, all the thoughts in your head went blank.

Maneuvering her body, the redhead pressed into you, pushing the two of you both back - chair and all - away from the table. With the newfound space, she quickly moved to saddle your lap, grinding down hard into you.

And if there was any ounce of self respect you still had left - between the fiery attack of Natasha's lips and the slow rolling of her hips against you - it was gone the second she moaned into the kiss, having just discovered the strap you had been wearing.

Matching her movements, you pressed back into the Russian, making sure she could feel the entire length of the toy.

You felt her physically shiver in anticipation above you.

"Fuck."

Hearing the neediness in that singular word, you were suddenly reminded how restricted your movements still were.

"Natasha." You tried, attempting to draw the redhead's attention to your bounded state.

"Mmm?" She hummed, lost in her own bliss as she continued grinding down, searching for the friction she so needed.

You almost lost your own train of thought, mesmerized by the way she was moving. God, the things this woman does to you.

"Unbind me?" You were able to manage out, your desire to fuck the Russian your way overcoming the competing desire to just watch how desperate and needy she could get by herself.

Half lidded, green eyes met yours, and with just one glance you already knew what she was going to say.

"And why would I do that?"

Pulling away from you, a truly evil smirk spread itself across Natasha's face. And you silently wondered if this was revenge for the similar situation that had happened before.

Keeping unwavering eye contact with you, Natasha began to undress, every inch of exposed skin slowly revealing itself to you. All you could think about was how pretty they’d look if they were covered in your marks instead.

When all that was left was her bra and underwear, the redhead returned closer. Treading her fingers gently through your hair, she tugged harshly with a force that surprised you, the movement jerking and forcing your head up to meet her gaze above you.

"No, I think I like you better like this." She whispered, kissing you with a dominance worthy of her title. "All mine to use."

The presence of her other hand travelling down to the band of your pants suddenly became prominent. You stilled yourself as she got closer to your lower abdomen. Holding just a beat, she lingered, as if daring you to stop her, then without any more hesitation, her hand dipped into your pants and pulled out your strap.

You saw her silent shock at the size as she took it in.

"What's wrong, worried you can't take it?" You mocked, trying to regain control in the situation.

Challenged filled eyes snapped back up to yours, and you knew she was going to make you regret your words, "Watch me."

Her simple response had you barely holding back a groan.

Unable to touch her, you could only watch as the Russian positioned herself over you, shoving her underwear desperately to the side as she aligned herself to your strap.

As Natasha sank down, her moans filling the room at being stretched out, you couldn't do anything but watch with appreciation as each inch disappeared inside her. When she had finally taken it all in, her breathing was ragged and heavy.

"Shit," She cursed in pleasure, "That was a lot more than I had thought." Picking up her hips, she attempted to moved slowly, trying to adjust to the size.

Your eyes found itself entranced to the place where Natasha and you connected, each time the Russian sank down even more arousing than the last. As pleasure finally overcame pain, the speed at which the redhead moved increased until she was shamelessly riding you, each bounce hitting deeper and deeper inside her.

The vulgar sound of how wet she was could have made you cum just then.

Feeling generous, you matched her rhythm, helping her take each thrust better and relishing in the moans that rewarded your efforts. But as the redhead began to get more vocal in her neediness, turning closer to a desperate whine - you began to feel the resolve in you steadily break. The urge to just bend her over the table and take her how you wanted to, vibrating through you in discomfort.

The ropes fell away from your wrist.

"I need more.”

The words shocked you more than your now freed wrist, "What?"

Almost begging with just her eyes, Natasha trembled out a breath, "I need more." She shamelessly repeated.

The sight of the Avenger so willingly surrendering control to you was the only motivation you needed to oblige to her request.

Lifting her up, you pushed Natasha onto the table behind her. Responsively, the redhead wrapped her legs around you. The heat radiating from her skin was evident in every place your fingers touch.

With two hands, you gripped either side of her now bare waist, the leather suit she had been wearing pooling around you. The firm hold of her waist was all that you needed before you began pounding into her, setting a new unrelenting pace that made Natasha throw her head back in bliss.

With each thrust came the accompanying moans of approval from the redhead, the desperation in them growing by the second. Somehow, in the midst of all that was happening, the Russian's bra was unclipped and removed as well, thrown carelessly to the side. The view of watching her breasts bounce with each thrust only motivated you to go faster.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm going to cum." Natasha gasped out between moans, the words seeping with neediness, "Don't stop, please don't stop." She begged.

Stopping being the furthest thing from your mind, you only responded by catching her with a kiss. Even the hungry desire of your kiss, however, was not enough to muffle the desperate moans from Natasha as she neared her inevitable high.

"Look at you. No one else can fuck you like this, can they?" You mocked, moving a hand up from Natasha's waist to turn her face towards you.

Unable to respond verbally, the redhead shook her head vehemently.

"Say it." You pressed, unsatisfied with her response.

Confused green eyes, pupils blown wide with lust met yours.

"Say it." You urged again, drawing your movement to an agonizingly slow speed, "I want to hear it."

Natasha whimpered - something you didn't even know she was capable of, "Say what?"

Her nails dug into your shoulder, biting into the skin, "Say that no one else can fuck you like me. Say that you're mine." You demanded.

Maybe a Natasha in a different state would have objected to your claim. Maybe one whose mind wasn't so fuzzy and unclear.

But it wasn't a different Natasha that was wrapped around you right then. It wasn't a different Natasha that was shaking with desperation in front of you, grinding mindlessly against you in search of friction. It was this Natasha, and at that moment, all the Russian could focus on was how much she needed you to move again - to give her the final push towards her ecstasy.

And so she caved in, letting go of all inhibition and giving in to your request.

"I'm yours. Only yours, daddy."

You weren't entirely sure what part of her words got to you, but her words certainly did: a wave of satisfaction washing through you at once.

Picking up your movement again, you rewarded the redhead, returning back to the pace you knew she needed.

The sudden stimulation was too much, the previous absence of which heightening everything Natasha felt, and it wasn't long before the redhead was throwing her head back again in pleasure: this time with finality as her orgasm shuddered through her entire body.

Helping her, you pulled the Russian closer so that she would not fall in her bliss, feeling her chest heave against yours in an attempt to regain her breathing.

The only regret you had was that you could not stay longer to enjoy the moment; a distant and dull rumbling of the room suddenly becoming noticeable.

Picking up on it as well, Natasha slowly pulled back from you, silent confusion in her still unfocused eyes.

"You had wanted information on the bombs, right?" You asked, pulling away completely as you untangled yourself.

Distrust immediately snapped into the redhead's features, washing away all evidence of her previous state, "Yeah..."

Smiling innocently, you winked as you moved to fix your appearance, "Well, I wouldn't know too much about where the other bombs are," You admitted, your words causing Natasha to straighten up in sudden shock. You could feel your impending doom, "but I can tell you where a few of them are concentrated." You tried to offer.

Tossing her clothes up so that she could get decent, you glanced expectantly at the door behind Natasha.

She turned to follow your gaze.

"Just give me one...two..."

A large shockwave vibrated through the room. Shouting and yelling sounded through the door.

"Three..."

Realization appeared on Natasha's face, "You little shi-"

You didn't have to wait around to hear the rest of her sentence, the wall behind you suddenly crumbling away. Seeing your ride just a few stories below, you took your cue to leave.

"Come back here!" Natasha shouted, peering down as you free fell towards your escape.

You only waved back mockingly.

The last thing you saw was the shocked face of Natasha Romanoff as she undoubtably cursed you and the rest of your bloodline for eternity.

It was okay though.

Because she had admitted it.

The Black Widow had admitted it.

She was yours.

---

[wandabear]

GIVE YOUR HEART A BREAK - WANDA MAXIMOFF X F!READER  

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Summary: Wanda lost everything and it's hard for her to open her heart, but someone like Y/N's isn't going to give up anytime soon. So many times where Y/N tries to get closer but Wanda ignores her, and one where it's the other way around. A request based on the song 'Give Your Heart a Break'. Emobaby Wanda is trying. Enjoy @imnotasuperhero! Request here.

Chapter Iㅤ | ㅤChapter II

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As you know me, Jules is portrayed by Adelaide Kane.ㅤ 

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ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ CHAPTER II: ONE LAST TIME

The world changed. Not just for her, but for everyone.

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With her look lost in some point inside that cell, Wanda kept quiet, wondering why the hell she agreed to go on that mission in Lagos. Mission where she made the biggest mistake of her life and because of that, the Sokovia Accords were created and therefore, she ran away with Clint from Stark's house to fight with Steve in Germany. Everything was chaos in a matter of hours.

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Now locked away in some remote part of the world, with a straitjacket and a stupid Stark tech collar so she couldn't use her powers, Wanda was just devastated, she allowed herself to shed a tear.

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'Please, stay with me. Don’t go…'

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Wanda remembered Y/N's words and closed her eyes, cursing herself. Why didn't she listen to her? Why didn't she stay with her that night? Sharing the warmth of the bed, just feeling Y/N’s heartbeat, the sound of her breath.

Now that picture seemed so far away.

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‘How do you feel now? You freak.’ The raspy voice of one of the guards was heard, but she didn’t allow herself to see that disgusting man. Wanda clenched her jaw and held on until he left, she wasn't going to let him see her defeated like that, how the icy cold sadness embraced her.

All she could think about was Y/N, just her, to survive.

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"Don't listen to him, kiddo."

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She heard Clint's voice since his cell was next to hers, trying to comfort her in some way, so she wouldn't feel alone. Too late.

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The lights flash for a few seconds, drawing everyone's attention. Before the guards could say anything, a blackout darkened the entire place. The surrounding darkness made Clint and Sam lean against the bars and talk to each other, though Wanda couldn't even move. 

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The sound of many men falling down made her feel nervous, what if it was Hydra again? No, they were already defeated. But what if it was someone else?

She had never felt so vulnerable. The anxiety began to devour her slowly until  that voice brought hope back to her shattered heart.

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“I told you that no matter what, if you need me... I'll be there.”

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Like a beautiful sunrise, a smile was born on Wanda's lips; Steve was there. Next to him, Natasha was ready to get her friends out of there. Whatever it takes.

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“Are you sure?” The Sokovian asked feeling her heart race, taking the folder with shaky hands. She was in a van with her best friend, trying to go unnoticed. Wanda wearing sunglasses and a beanie to appease the cold while Natasha just left her recent blonde hair loose.

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“Safe as houses.” The russian spy sighed, noticing how Wanda was looking at the pictures in the folder. “She still goes to that café, not as often but… she does.”

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The pictures showed Y/N graduating, some in the cafe talking with Jules, some of the brunette listening to music with her headphones on the subway.

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“How long have you been following her?” Wanda asked, her fingers running gently over the picture. Oh, how long it had been without seeing her. Especially when they were running from one place to another to avoid being caught.

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“Since we got rid of Ross in Spain.” Natasha glanced sideways at the picture. “Plus, the barista is kinda cute.”

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Wanda raised an eyebrow, turning to see her.

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“What? She’s cute.” Natasha rolled her eyes. “Apparently she’s her friend now. Thanks to that I was able to find out more about your girl.”

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“Flirting with the barista?”

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“Someday she will stop being the barista and will be the owner, she has dreams... she's different from us. From me.” The currently blonde handed her the binocular so Wanda could watch. “Anyway, Y/N's still single, she finished Med School, although it was delayed a bit when you disappeared. Now she’s doing the residence.”

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“Still looking beautiful.” Wanda sighed as she watched Y/N from a distance. The brunette was at her table, writing something in her notebook and listening music on her headphones. This time she wasn’t wearing her leather jacket, she was wearing a grey hoodie that Wanda recognized perfectly because it was hers.  Her heart melted. “She changed her hair style a bit.”

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“We can say we understand her. She needs to blend.”

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Wanda sighed and put the folder aside. “What else do you have?”

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“Wanda.” Natasha tried to get her attention. “I think it's time to face it. We have no time for doubts.”

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The redhead sighed and shook her head.

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“Now?” Wanda hesitated for a moment, really worried. What if Y/N didn't want to see her anymore? Or call the police?  Or worse... what if... “What if she hates me?”

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“We don’t have much time, we should fly to Scotland in a few hours.” Natasha grabbed her keys, ready to get out of the truck. “It may be the last time you see her.”

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Remaining thoughtful and silent for a moment, Wanda looked out the window once more. This was her chance, she must take it or let it go. But she had to choose now.

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“Let’s go.”

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“Here you have, my friend. ” The barista set the coffee mug next to Y/N, sitting down next to her. "Just the way you like it."

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“Thank you, you're the best.” Y/N smiled kindly and drank some of it, but not before adding two tablespoons of sugar. “That guy bothered you again?”

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Jules shook her head.

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“No, he was snooping around for a while, but when I told Ross that Wanda was only here for coffee and they did the ‘truth test’ to me with that stupid weird machine, he left me alone. Plus, Matt Murdock helped me as the most caring and amazing defense attorney in the world. ” The barista leaned on the table to play with a sugar packet. “I'm glad your friend deleted the videos… from the cameras, you know.”

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“It was nothing nothing, Daisy said she didn't leave any traces.” Y/N sighed deeply, remembering that in those videos you could see how Wanda and her met for the first time. How difficult was to erase them from existence. Now those memories remained only in her memory.

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Seeing the melancholy in her friend's eyes, Jules asked: “Did she call you already? Or something...”

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“No…” Y/N sighed a bit tired, putting her laptop aside. “Though I did find out some stuff, Daisy didn't know as much as I expected, I must admit, but she taught me a few tricks.”

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“How about Tony Stark?” Jules narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “He must know where she is, or if you can see her. At least! I mean… she’s your girlfriend!”

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“But nobody knows that we are girlfriends, and it’s the safest thing for her, I haven't been near Stark Tower since the last time we tried to get in and you got locked up.”

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Jules tried not to laugh at the memory. “But it was worth it, wasn't it?”

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Y/N smiled when she remembered that moment, of course she was able to intrude in the place thanks to Jules making a fuss in the main room. What it cost her to be questioned by the General Ross himself about twenty-four hours. And Y/N being 'kindly' kicked out by a some kind man with a scruffy beard that everyone called 'Happy'.

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The door bell rang again as two customers entered the café. Jules walked over to take the order but smiled widely when she saw it was the blonde.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ Y/N smiled, the crush Jules had with that stranger reminded her of herself. She just turned her gaze to her laptop to continue with that job.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ “Hey.” Jules grinned, resting her hands on the counter. “You came back.”

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“Yeah.” Natasha nodded and pointed to the person behind her, who was looking at the ground a bit shy. “I brought a friend, I think she will really like your coffee.”

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“Oh, a friend…” The smile on Jules's lips began to fade, she felt her chest deflate for a moment until Natasha's 'friend' removed her sunglasses. She could finally recognize her, with a different hair color, sure, but it was her. “Oh my… goddess.”

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The barista turned on the coffee machine to make some noise, necessary so that no one would hear them. Not even Y/N who was sitting with her back to them.

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“You’re here! We thought you were locked up somewhere! We saw you on TV!” Jules picked up two disposable coffee cups, writing two random names on them. “You looked so badass, by the way.”

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“Please, don’t say anything.” Wanda whispered trying to go unnoticed, worried there would be bugs. “Can I trust that you won't rat us out?”

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“You have my word, she’s there alone. Go…” Jules whispered and then cleared her throat, raising her voice again: “Sure! It's four bucks for both lattes.”

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“Thank you, Jules.” Wanda whispered and walked away from her, Natasha stayed talking to Jules and making sure no strangers entered the place. Wanda smiled when she heard 'you didn't tell me you were an avenger! I thought your name was Natalie!'

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Each step towards her made the heartbeat increase, what to say? How? Wanda watched Y/N's back and how she scratched her head trying to think. Oh, she loved that. She was so adorable.

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Wanda took a deep breath, working up all the courage to take a seat across from her. Unlike the first times they'd met, Wanda this time sat down and stayed there until Y/N looked away from her laptop.

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“Sorry, this place is taken…” Y/N started but then her jaw drop open. Wide open eyes, her heart skipped a beat.

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Wanda was there, with the cutest shy smile and that lovely reddish hair contrasting against her skin. Although those green eyes showed so much nostalgia, this time the tears were of joy, to see Y/N again.

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“Wanda...” Y/N gasped, quickly getting up to hug her tightly. Between giggles and tears, Y/N buried her face in the redhead's neck to sniff her scent, feel her presence once more and make sure she wasn't crazy.

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She was there. After so long they were together again. In the distance, her friends watched them smiling and happy.

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“Are you okay?!" The brunette took the face of her beloved in her hands, still unable to believe that she was there. Her Wanda.

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“I’m fine, detka.” The sokovian nodded quickly, smiling through the tears. Without thinking about it anymore, without caring about the consequences, Wanda ended the distance and kissed the lips of that woman she loved, the one who had her crazy since the first day they met.

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The warmth of her mouth, the need to feel her one more time. Both were lost in that kiss until they both needed oxygen. Y/N rested her forehead against Wanda's for a few seconds, until they decided to sit down. They had to keep up appearances.

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“We thought you were locked up in that awful prison.” The brunette sighed taking Wanda’s hand.

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“I was, but we were able to escape.” Wanda said in a low voice, closing her eyes as she felt that soft caress. She hadn't felt something like that for so long. “I missed you, lyubov.”

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Oh, she missed that Sokovian accent so much.

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“I missed you so much, Wands.” She felt a tear escape, down her cheek but she soon brushed it away. “You never told me you were an avenger.”

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“I'm sorry.” Wanda bit her lower lip, trying to swallow the pain. “I'm sorry that I didn't tell you the truth, I wanted you to be for me, just for me… for this to be different from what I had. I was afraid you'd be scared.”

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“It's okay.” Y/N nodded. “Although I really didn't think that was it, just that maybe you were involved in some weird shit, some strange cult or something.”

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They both laughed together once more, feeling that maybe for a moment everything was back to normal.

The warmth in Wanda’s belly mixed with the pain in her chest, everything she had in front of her and couldn't keep. Damn it. She now she understood the pain, now she understood what Nat told her, now walking away would hurt even more.

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“I'm sorry I left that night.” Wanda whispered regretfully.

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“Okay, I understand why you did it.” Y/N nodded. “I'm proud of you.”

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'I'm proud of you'. Such simple words, yet so powerful. Enough to make Wanda shed a few tears, of happiness and sadness at the same time.

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“I can't stay.” You can hear the deep pain in her voice.

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Y/N smiled tenderly. “I know.”

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They both spent a while catching up on everything that happened, until Y/N began to look for something in her bag.

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“Take this.” Y/N handed her a small device that she put in the redhead's pocket. “It looks like a tamagotchi, right? It's funny. Every time you want to send me a message, you have to open this app. And send it to me.”

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“I don't think I can have this where I'm going, detka.” Wanda looked at her tenderly but Y/N shook her head, giving it to her anyway.

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“A friend did it for me, it's very reliable. It's encrypted, many layers of encryption, it is even necessary to do it from a specific place, really impossible to trace. I had the idea a while ago, I figured you'd come someday. So, I asked her to do it because she owed me.”

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“Who?” Wanda frowned at her, doubtful. Maybe a little jealous.  “Is she trustworthy?”

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“Daisy Johnson.”

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Hearing that name, the redhead nodded and took that device, knowing that she could completely trust Daisy. At least they were on the same side.

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“How did you meet Daisy?”

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“Oh, that story is for another day. I'll just tell you that I had to patch many wounded running away because of the Accords.”

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“You're amazing, detka.” Wanda bit her lower lip, completely captivated by her.

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“Wanda, we have to go.” Natasha said looking at her watch. 

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“Can't we stay a little longer? Please.” She begged, those green eyes asking Natsha and whatever higher beings to give her a few more moments.

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“You know how it is.” Nat sighed and adjusted her cap, ready to go out again. “Steve needs us.”

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“She’s right.” Y/N kissed her forehead, in the sweetest and most supportive way possible. “Go, okay? I will be here.”

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“Y/N, I…” Wanda stopped. She didn't know how to express those words, were they correct? Was she rushing? But did that matter? She was running from the government -not just one- for more than a year, of course it was worth saying. “I love you, Y/N.”

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“I love you, Wands” Happy to finally say it, Y/N smiled widely and kissed her lips once more. Not just once, but many times until they had to break up.

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“Be careful, okay?”

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“You too, take care, please.”  The Sokovian sighed, feeling her heart split in two as she moved away. “They will do anything to find us.”

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“We’ll do it.” She nodded, then looked at Natasha. “Take care of her.”

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The spy nodded as if it were a promise, although the truth would be that they would both take care of each other. But to Natasha's surprise, Jules came over to her with a big brown paper package.

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“Take this.” The barista handed her that package that inside seemed to have a few bottles of water, bagels and chicken sandwiches. “For the trip, I guess where you guys are going won't be close.”

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“Thank you, Jules. You’re kind.” Wanda smiled gratefully.

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“Wanda?” Y/N tried last time.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ “Yes?”

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“Red looks beautiful on you. Red is still yours.”

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Smiling, Wanda waved and left that café, ready to drive out of town where the quinjet was parked.

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In the cafe, Y/N kept watching the door for twenty minutes until Jules decided to close it, it was time to go home. Of course Y/N was going to wait, she didn't know how long, but she was going to wait.

And together they battled the adversity and distance that separated them each night, especially Y/N's constant concern for Wanda's life. They communicated through encrypted messages from each city where Wanda arrived, once she was safe she would send a message that only they knew to show that everything was okay.

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The second invasion in New York was something that nobody expected, of course. As soon as she saw that on TV how New York was under attack again by the Black Order, she quickly left with Steve and Natasha to the Compound. The imminent war against Thanos coming to Wakanda.

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‘Are you okay?’ Send.

‘Please, detka, say you're okay...’ Send. 

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She typed and waited impatiently as they flew to Wakanda.

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Wanda sighed deeply, a bit defeated and tired of going back and forth from one place to another without being able to stay where she wanted to be. Now the planet was at risk -again- and a mad titan wanted to kill one of her friends to get a stone. Cool.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“She’s okay?” Natasha asked as she sat down next to her.  

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“I don't know.” Wanda lowered her gaze, watching her reddish knuckles. Some cuts on her pale skin, she couldn't remember when was the last time she had a moment of peace. Her heart doesn't have any rest.  “I'm tired.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“I know.” Natasha pursed her lips and leaned back against the quinjet wall, closing her eyes. “I promise this is the last time.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Don't promise something you don't know, Romanoff.” Wanda whispered, knowing so damn well that this wasn’t the last time. There was always something else, always somewhere to run.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Maybe half an hour later that device vibrated, taking her attention. Wanda sighed with relief.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

‘I’m okay. Working, the hospital is full of wounded people. Those aliens left a mess here! Where are you? What’s going on?!’ - received a minute ago. 

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

‘I'm about to stop all this. I love you.’ Send.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

‘I love you. Please be safe, come back to me, Wanda.’ Received. 

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“She’s fine.” Wanda told Nat who seemed less worried now too. “We must stop them.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Wanda didn't want to lose Y/N, didn't want to lose her best friend, Vision.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“It's what we'll do.” Natasha nodded and got up to make sure they were close to Wakanda, as they seemed to be losing altitude. Watching once more the messages from her beloved, Wanda closed her eyes when she heard Steve tell them that they were about to land.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

One last time. One last time and we'll be together.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

"She'll come back, of course she will."

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

That was what Y/N told herself over and over again, ever since the afternoon New York was attacked by Thanos. Hours later, Thanos's snap had disappeared half of the Universe.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Chaos and horror reigned in the lives of many people who lost their loved ones, and some people who had to pay for the crazy decision of the mad titan and lose their lives.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Watching the ashes around her, Y/N walked through the hospital corridors, seeing how people disappeared, turning into ashes. People who screamed for their relatives or for their doctors. She was speechless.

Y/N remembered how that day she arrived at Jules's cafe expecting to find a pile of ashes and feel the relief to see her there, so scared, trying to help the people who came looking for refuge.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Y/N remembered how she tried to call Wanda but it was impossible, even though Y/N tried a thousand times, she never answered her messages again. And she understood why, when the news showed the fallen Avengers, victims of Thanos' snap. How they had been remembered for their great courage, trying to save the planet from that threat.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

‘James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff… we owe them so much, we are forever in debt.’ Said the president next to the ruins of what used to be the Mets Stadium. 

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Now you remember them?! After spending a whole year hunting them all over the world like criminals!” Y/N exclaimed angrily watching the news, getting up to storm out of that cafe. “A fucking Witch hunt!”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Five years from that day, that day when she asked herself: why not me? Where she should be glad to still be alive, but carrying the weight and pain of surviving in a world where those she loved were gone.

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Five years where her life changed completely, she was no longer a girl doing a residency but was now a doctor.

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Five years where New York City gone from being a beacon of light to a slightly darker place. A gray that would never make you feel alone, but not safe either.

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“You haven't slept at all for twenty-six hours, you should eat something other than ham bagels and coffee!” Jules's voice snapped Y/N out of her thoughts as she tried to stay awake over the counter.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Jules, her best friend who had been by her side these five years, poked her nose. The woman looked exactly the same although with a rather attractive bi bob haircut.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Its what I must do. I promise I'll eat better or healthier.” Y/N smiled somewhat wearily as she drank her coffee, happy to have two days off.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“I’m just worried.” Jules shook her head.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“I'm okay.” She assured. “How's everything around here now that you own this place?”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Oh, don't even tell me. It's chaos itself, I never thought it would be doing the same thing I already did, but with more responsibility. And even more tired and stressed… but happier.”

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Y/N rolled her eyes and giggled. “What about Natasha?”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Each day more beautiful. The last time we talked, she was videocalling a space raccoon... that was flirting with me. A self-centred little thing if I tell you.” She joked, shaking her head. The relationship with Natasha strengthened even more all those years, Thanos' snap changed everything.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ Y/N and Jules talked for a while, mostly about their lives until one of the customers caught their attention, pointing to the television.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“I repeat, a ship landed on what used to be the old Avengers compound!” exclaimed one of the journalists while running. “Be careful, we don't know if this is a new attack on New York or-”

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The journalist suddenly stopped when he saw how people began to appear around him.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“OH MY GOD, THEY'RE COMING BACK!”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Astonished, Y/N and her bestfriend watched as the people who disappeared years ago, now returned there or outside the store. Y/N rushed out to help those in need, accidents began to happen. Helping those who were scared or disoriented without knowing what was happening, the world was once again in chaos... five years after the snap.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

While the Avengers fought against Thanos once again, united, every place in the world was chaos itself. About five or six hours later, from afar it was heard how many people celebrated the return of their loved ones in the streets. Jules was turning off the lights of the coffee shop when she heard the jingle of the door bells.

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“Sorry, we’re already closed. If you need help I can take you to the City Hall and...” Jules said without even looking, taking her jacket to leave but when she turned to look, her mouth dropped open in surprise. 

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ The redhead was wearing a gray coat and a burgundy sweater that fit her perfectly. She looked beautiful, as always, but mostly she looked hopeful. And somewhat worried.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ “Wanda…” Jules gasped, she remained still for a few seconds before approaching to hug the redhead. So tight, even Jules missed her so much. “Damn, it’s true. You look like... you look exactly the same. Wow.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“It is. You still look beautiful too.” Wanda said with a small shy smile, but as she pulled away she asked: “Where is she?”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“In her apartment.”

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So confused, the sokovian shook her head. “I was there, there’s no one living in that place.”

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“Oh, yeah! It's just that she moved two years ago to be close to the hospital.” Jules took a piece of paper and a pen so she could write down the exact address. “Here you go, she's a few blocks from New York-Presbyterian.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Thank you.” Wanda nodded quickly walking towards the exit when the woman's voice caught her attention.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Wanda… Do you know where Natasha is? She doesn't answer my calls, I understand that after all it must be difficult to talk. But… I’m getting worried here.” Jules tried to look smiley but she seemed quite worried because inside her, she felt that something wasn't quite right. "I'm terrified, she never does that."

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Jules, I… umh… I'm sorry.” Wanda lowered her head for a moment, not knowing what to say. How to begin, she didn’t even thought about everything that happened. Apparently Nat and her were close.  “I thought you knew.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Taking a deep breath, the brunette just tried to hold back her tears and nodded. Natasha talked to her many times, explaining the situation in which she would always be. Preparing her for what she considered inevitable.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

She was an Avenger. Someday she would die as one.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Go, I'll be fine. We will talk about that later.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Are you sure?”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Yes, please. She will be happy to see you.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Wanda nodded and left that place quickly, willing to get to that place as fast as she could. 

The good news was that Y/N wasn't that far away, the bad news was that the streets were packed with people. Wanda used her powers to levitate between alleys, shortening as much as she could.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

She was so focused on the TV that the sound of the coffee maker made her jump. The news channel decided to show the lovely reunions instead of focusing on the riots, to appease now the great problem that was now coming, called overpopulation.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Y/N got up to get some coffee when she heard the doorbell. So confused, she set the coffee pot aside and walked to the door a bit worried. Maybe it was Jules with something new, she didn't know anyone else after all.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Each step toward the door seemed like an eternity, as if something was going to happen and her heart knew it. Because when she barely opened the door, her heart rushed out to its true owner. Taking her breath away, there was Wanda Maximoff, more beautiful than ever, as if nothing changed for her. Y/N thought she was living in a memory, Wanda looked exactly like the last time she saw her.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Hi.” Wanda mumbled between happy, flushed and excited. She thought of all the things she wanted to say, all the things she mentally wrote down to say to Y/N, but she could only say 'hi'.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Wanda! Oh my god!” Y/N exclaimed excited and amazed, rushed towards the sokovian to hug her as tightly as her arms would allow her.  “It’s you. It’s really you. Oh my god, you’re here!”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

She didn't even think about it, she just kissed Wanda. Kissed the love of her life as if it was their first time. Closing their eyes for a moment, they both allowed themselves to hold each other for a long time, feel each other one more time. Feel the scent, the warmth of their bodies meeting again, so similar yet so different.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

After that kiss, Y/N led Wanda inside the house quickly. Turning around, they faced each other again, not knowing what to say. Just happy looks and big smiles.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Wow, I can't believe you're back.” Y/N took her hand sitting on the couch together. Oh, how many times she begged to whatever god up there would let her see Wanda one more time.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

The redhead took advantage of the moment to take a good look at Y/N, that woman for whom she had fought all this time. One of the most important reasons why she gave her life in that battle, who she felt was her home.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“You look the same... it's so crazy.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“You look a a bit different…” Wanda whispered, caressing her beloved's cheek. And it was true, although Y/N still looked so damn  beautiful, some things changed. Not many, those eyes and that smile kept taking her breath away.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Hey, it's not my fault. Five years, you know? I'm a bit older now, but... bit sexier tho. Like a good wine.” Y/N teased, they both laughed, but then pain came like a blast of cold air for both.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Five years away.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Realizing how long it had been since they saw each other, years without knowing about each other. Time felt unrecoverable; years of thinking they were lost forever.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ Years where Wanda was not there for Y/N. Years where Y/N had to move on.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“No, I mean... you're so beautiful. You look the same, I just... It feels as if I saw you for the first time.” Wanda hurried up and shook her head, feeling the bitterness close in her throat for a moment. She cradled Y/N's face in her hands. “I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have left. We should have gone somewhere, run away together...”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

A tear fell down Wanda's cheek and Y/N allowed herself to gently brush it away, leaving a soft kiss on her forehead.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“That sounds very romantic.” Y/N smiled wistfully, how long did she think about it? How silly she was for not insisting even more. “But you know very well that you wouldn’t, you wouldn’t quit on your friends, you wouldn’t quit on this world if it needed you, and I wouldn’t let you do it either. I'm still so fucking proud of you.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“But I left you, twice. I feel like a failure, 'cause I know that I failed you, detka. I should've done you better…”  Wanda looked down at their intertwined fingers, finally. “I'm scared… Everything has changed so much. And I know, but I'm afraid that you have everything now… and I’ll be nothing without you.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Y/N smiled tenderly.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Some things have changed, but my love for you hasn't.” Y/N assured her, kissing her hand in a soft and unique way. “That's something that will never happen,  my love for you will never end. I'm still waiting for you.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Wanda bit her lower lip, completely in love with that woman. Oh god, how did she find something so good in her life?

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“I haven't asked you, but…” Wanda felt a bit embarrassed to ask. “Are you... seeing someone? Sorry, I came here and I just stormed with all this. I didn't even ask you that...”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

The brunette giggled, that was so adorable. “You’re asking that after we kissed...”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“What? I wanna know!” Wanda defended herself and gave her a little nudge.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Ouch!” She tried to stop giggling. “I'm single.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Oh, thanks to the universe.” Sighing deeply, feeling a great relief, Wanda just nodded and tried to fight back the tears.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Seeing Y/N again in front of her, so the same and so different, was one of the most difficult tests she had gone through. They both spent the night chatting about what Y/N's life had been like, that she managed to finish the residency because the decimation -or the snap- changed everything in those five years. Y/N got that apartment because it was so much closer to the hospital, and because the memories of Wanda started to suffocate her. It was too painful.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Wanda's absence opened a great hole inside, so deep that nothing was enough to fill it. ‘It was a deep dark hole that goes all the way to China’, Y/N used to said that because that was one of the songs they both loved, ‘Hole in my heart’ by Cyndi Lauper.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

And while Y/N told her everything that happened in the world and in her life, Wanda never stopped smiling. She was so proud of Y/N, seeing her achieve everything she wanted to be.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“I've missed a lot of you.” Wanda stroked her cheek, so slowly. The softness of her skin kept driving her crazy. “I abandoned you so long ago, long before Thanos. I abandoned you when we hadn't even started.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Feeling the pain in her beloved's eyes, Y/N just leaned down to kiss those sweet lips one more time. A short and sincere kiss, making their heartbeat increase.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“I think it's time to rest.” whispered the brunette, lost in the delicious sensation that Wanda's lips cause her. Hearing that, Wanda just nodded.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Yes, I should go.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“No, not like that. I mean… Where?” Y/N stammered, then looked around. It was 2 am, Y/N turned off the tv. “Where are you staying? I don't think it's good for you to go out alone.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“I'm an avenger.” Wanda smiled, Y/N despite knowing that she was powerful and capable of defending herself against alien threats or trained agents, she continued to protect Wanda as if she were a treasure. “Don't know. I just came back… I came straight here. I have no place yet.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Stay with me.” Without waiting for even a second, stumbling at her own words, Y/N blurted it out without thinking about the consequences. Not caring either, she just wanted that girl back by her side and planned to make up for the time that was taken from her, from now on. If she let Wanda go before, this time she's going to fight for it.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Yes…” Wanda whispered, happy. And of course this time she wasn't going to say no. This time she wasn’t going to refuse saying that she should be somewhere else. This was the place where she belonged, this was the place where she deserved and wanted to be.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Smiling, Y/N took the redhead's hand and they walked together into the bedroom, leaving all the chaos behind. Promising themselves to never let go again.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

And fulfilling what they promised, they didn’t separate again.

Except for Tony Stark's funeral, Y/N didn't think it would be appropriate to go there, so she just waited patiently for her. The bad news was that Natasha hadn't woken up yet, after what happened on Vormir and Steve returning the infinity stones to where they belonged, he found a loophole in that 'deal'.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

They were able to rescue Natasha's soul, coming back to life but wasn’t that easy. Natasha never woke up, staying alive but unable to get out of that coma.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Pepper took care of the situation, looking for the best facilities and doctors she could find. Jules never left Natasha’s side, she spent most of her time trying to be with her, and take care of her.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Of course, Jules cried and growled 'that's my girl, always leaving a mess and saving the world' when she found out about the Russian’s sacrifice. Hoping to scold her someday, though she understood that Nat would do anything to make her sister come back, Yelena. And all the people on this planet who needed to come back.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

After all, they spent five years together, and had a wonderful and healthy relationship. Natasha learned to open up and let herself be loved and cared for, have a small family. Jules knew so well that Natasha Romanoff was a hero, she always had been. Maybe the ring should wait for its owner a little longer.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Oh my god, that’s so you.” Y/N laughed so hard, watching an episode of Malcolm in the Middle. 

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Wanda loved sitcoms and was grateful that they matched so well on it, even though they agreed to alternate their sitcom nights between Malcolm, The Office, and One Day at a Time. The Office could be complex sometimes, but Y/N loved it and Wanda was starting to like it, very much. Two months passed since everyone returned and the world was beginning to heal, little by little.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Shut up. You’re Hal, always horny and doing the most random weird things ever.” Wanda snuggled to be closer to her girlfriend, her love, her everything. Feeling the brunette's scent made Wanda smile and close her eyes for a moment, so she could live in that dream, never wake up.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“And you’re my Lois, because you love me anyway.” Y/N whispered as she stroked Wanda's back slowly.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“I love you, detka. I will love you in any way, in any world.” Wanda confessed by placing her chin on Y/N’s chest. Neither of them seemed to care much that the episode kept playing behind, the connection between their looks could overcome everything.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Wanda…”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Mmh?”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Have I told you that I love your accent?”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Always, and I love to know...”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Wanda?”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Yes, detka?”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Y/N narrowed her eyes and bit her lower lip, thinking that maybe she shouldn't say what she wanted to say. “Do you remember the times we saw each other when you were running away?”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Do I remember them? Ha. I treasure them in my mind, each and every one of them.” The redhead paused for a moment to lose herself in those memories. The times they'd run away so they could be together, when Y/N took a week's vacation and traveled to Scotland, so they could lose in the romantically beautiful Edinburgh, or travel to Ireland, laughing and dancing in Galway over a few pints of ale.

That night Natasha was so angry... but the most painful thing was always saying goodbye to Y/N.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Now they wouldn't have to do it anymore.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Remember when…?” Y/N swallowed hard, thinking how to say it. “I would like to know something... rather, I'd like to ask you something.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Tell me, Y/N, what's is it? Are you okay?” Concern was visible on the redhead's face.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

The brunette sighed and settled on the bed to get a better look at Wanda. After a few attempts to start saying it, she took courage: “Don't you think we've been apart for a long time already?”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Yes…” Wanda nodded. “Although these months have been wonderful, I don’t understand what you mean…”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“But it's different.” Y/N licked her lips and took Wanda’s hand. “So I was thinking and, well, this place… is… something that I chose, in a hurry because I had to. You know, I didn't even think if I liked that window or if that… room was good… or… one bathroom…”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Wanda narrowed her eyes somewhat confused, not understanding too well where she was going.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Jeez! Would you like us… to look for a new place together?” Y/N ended up exploding, tired of babbling like a lovesick puppy. But as soon as she realized what she said, her eyes widened.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Do you want us to live together?”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Yes.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Wanda frowned, a bit confused. “Isn't that what we're doing?”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Yeah, but I mean let's find a place together.” Y/N closed her eyes, expecting the 'no' at any moment. “One that we choose together, that we both like.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Her girlfriend was quiet and that made Y/N panic, feeling her palms slightly sweaty.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“A home...” Wanda gradually smiled, that smile she hadn't shown in a long time. Such a unique smile, a happy one. The sokovian suddenly began to nod quickly, between excited and happy. “I would like to.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Y/N smiled too. “Really?”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“No, no...” The sokovian shook her head. “I wouldn't like it, change that. I'll say it better: I would love it! I would love to choose a home with you, detka.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“You serious?” Y/N smiled and sat up on the bed.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Deadly serious.” Wanda couldn't say more, she just laughed when the brunette leaned over to fill her with kisses and small bites. “Let's get ourselves a home!”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“And maybe a dog?” Y/N used her best pleading eyes, Wanda just bit her bottom lip, shaking her head.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

“Baby steps, detka!”

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

That was how they both slowly began to repair that relationship damaged by absence and time.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Natasha woke up two months later, happy to know that her sacrifice was worth it and that she was surrounded by the people she loved so much. Now all she had to do was go through a long recovery process, but never alone.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Y/N managed to have better work hours, now she couldn't be away from home for so long. She decided to take a minor position in a nice place called Westview.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Accepting Y/N's recommendation, Wanda began attending a therapy group, to be able to work on all the losses she had. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't impossible.

Although she would never get over Pietro, her family or Vision’s death, she could tell that slowly she was making progress.

Wanda could finally let her heart have a break and, without a doubt, lots of love.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Okay, I have finished this beautiful request and aaaaaaa. I hope you liked it. I wrote this chapter listening to One last time" by Ariana Grande.

the cutest and lovely people tags ✨@fishlikestuff @marvelogic @blckrwidow @imnotasuperhero @wandsmxmff - @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @marvell-love​ - @etheriaaly - @idcplss - @how-to-disappearrr - @simp4nat - @scarletwitchofthewilds - @cristin-rjd - @lonewalker17 @zairaaaa @mrscromanoff @kacka84 @helladumbsstuff @dandelions4us @karsonromanoff @trikruismybitch @danicarpediem

I can’t remember who asked me to tag them in my fics, if you want, comment and I’ll tag you.🐻

[wandasaura]

WHAT DID I SAY

summary — the four times you fucked up and called your doms by the wrong name

warning(s) — college au, fuck-buddy relationships, marijuana use, alcohol consumption, face slapping, spitting, biting, body writing, restraints, spreader bars, mentions of branding, semi nipple torture, hickies, shotgunning, choking, butt plugs, spanking, ass biting, pussy slapping, doggy style, strap-on usage, cum-filled strap, fingering, oral, overstimulation, edging, orgasm denial, degradation, praise, daddy kink, mommy kink, captain kink, sir kink, literal filth, men/minors dni

authors note — first little headcanon/oneshot for know my place! hope you enjoy my little college stoners who fuck like rabbits. can totally be read seperate from the au!

know my place

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

Maria – 

The wine is warm beside Maria’s bed. The bottle of Prosecco momentarily forgotten about as a symphony engages beneath the darkness of night and blankets. It’s not often that Maria pulls the blankets overtop of herself as she works to unravel the intricate knots and coils in your belly, but she’s chosen tonight to share the beauty of your body with only herself and the silicone toy secured around her hips. Your moans are muffled by her skin, teeth embedded into her shoulder as she rocks the strap-on into you harshly, the bulbous head dancing along your cervix with every third stroke. She’s practiced in this tango, an expert in knowing your body, but the wine has impacted your reception to her actions, and as she pulls the strap out of you almost completely only to thrust back into you quick and harsh, a name leaves your lips that isn’t her own. 

Maria has never been soft with you in moments of time where some part of her body is buried within yours. She’s rough, and assertive, and entirely domineering as she splits you open and gives you only as much pleasure as she’s willing. With Maria, you’re never in charge. The cards are held tightly in her ironclad grasp and you’ve learned better than to try and guess that she’s holding. The wine however, has severely impacted your judgment. You’ve engaged in this dance for months now; been left with the bruises and aches of her touch for days afterward, and yet you’re disoriented enough to cry out for Wanda as she drills your sopping cunt so perfectly. 

“Mommy!” The title slips off your lips before you can search for the correct term that’s filed away in a section of your brain labeled ‘Masha’. Maria has never been Mommy, in fact, she’s always turned her nose up at the title and joked that Wanda’s entirely too harsh to be called something so maternal, and she’s less than amused when the five letter name falls onto her shoulders as she works to unravel you completely. 

Her hips stutter to a stationary position, the silicone dildo fastened around her hips deep within your pleasure soaked core, but unmoving and unwilling to start again. There’s a moment of silence that passes between the both of you; Maria’s eyes are hard, slitted and dark as she stares down at you in a drunken haze, brain struggling to process what you’ve just let slip. Your eyes are wide, light and soft as you meet her stare and attempt to win her forgiveness without seeing the repercussions of your actions. You were a fool to call her Mommy, but you were an idiot to think she’d let it go so simply. 

The silence that had fallen over you ended abruptly, replaced by the echoing sound of a sharp slap meeting your cheek and bouncing through the air before you’d had a chance to process the pain at all. Your head snapped to the side, your unharmed cheek pressing against her pillowcases that smell somewhat of smoke and vanilla. Your eyes pinch closed, anticipating the next hit that will land against your heated skin, but it never comes. Maria’s hand tangled into your hair instead, pulling your head back until your neck is craned and the expanse of your sensitive skin is exposed enough for her teeth and tongue to mark. 

“What’s my fucking name?” Her hips snap into yours with each word that she mutters against your neck, sharp bites and sensitive stings encasing your body in a delectable buzz of pleasure and possessiveness. You’ll bear these marks for days to come, indentations of her teeth and patches of purple from her lips adorning your skin that can’t be easily hidden with makeup or your longest turtleneck. Everyone who looks at you will know that you’d found yourself beneath a warm body and had been helpless to their assault, but only you’ll know that it was Maria Hill who had been your intimate attacker. Each lovebite that she presses into your skin is a subtle claim. You’re not Wanda’s in this moment, you’re not Natasha or Carol’s either, you’re entirely Maria’s and she’s reminding you of such as her hips drive hard against your own and the silicone strap that’s coated in your arousal attempts to bruise your cervix in the most addictively painful way. Each strong thrust sends you reeling farther into bliss, but she’s waiting for an answer and you’re not getting anything more until she hears you call her the right name. In her opinion, she’s being entirely lenient with you, there are a plethora of ways she can go about reminding you who you belong to, and yet your wrists remain unbound and your breasts remain unmarked by the leather of her favorite flogger that’s just an arms distance away. “Whats my fucking name, slut? Or do I need to carve it into you? How pretty would you be with my name on your thigh; ruined for anyone else who even tries to get between these legs? My little slut forever.” 

A strangled moan falls into the air as Maria sinks her teeth into the skin of your neck just beneath your ear, and your hands that have remained at your sides throughout this entire exchange shoot up to scratch at her back, blood bubbling to the surface as you spare to ounce of lightness to your touch. She’s marked you, now she’ll bear your marks for days to come. “S-Sir!” 

Maria hums, satisfied with your answer, but unwilling to forgive you completely. Her hips continue to pound into you until she reaches her high, thighs quivering as she moans in pure delight until she’s too sensitive to continue on with her ministrations. The strap-on leaves your entrance quickly, your overstimulated and sensitive walls pleading for it to stay, but Maria’s done for the night, and she’s decided that you are too. She reaches for the abandoned glass of wine, taking a sip smugly as she straddles your hips, damp toy splayed across your naked belly as your chest heaves and you look up at her pleadingly. 

“You’ll get to cum when I don’t have to remind you who I am.”

Natasha –

Natasha’s hips continue to rock into you even as she leans forward and captures your lips between hers. The room is filled with a thin layer of smoke, the scents of weed and sex entangling together and yet it's somehow entirely Natasha as you lay beneath her, willing to take whatever she wants to give you. Your head is fuzzy, filled with only thoughts of her and the lightness that the bud had brought over your senses. Her body is warm as her naked chest presses against yours, already marked by her passionate kisses and bites that will linger for days to come in secret. Her pupils are blown wide, a combination of her lust and the joint she’s rolled skillfully. Her fingers are educated in the art of many things, but unraveling you is one of her most prized hobbies. Her lungs are filled with smoke from the last drag she’s taken, and as the seconds linger on with her lips still pressed firmly to yours, unmoving but eager to claim you intimately, she exhales into your open mouth and forces you to take the smoke that she fills it with. It burns as you inhale, slipping down your throat smoothly and filling your own lungs, but it’s pleasant and you greedily allow her to continue until all that remains is an empty kiss that was once filled with weed. The smoke trails out in wispy strands of white and gray, and they dance between your faces until the open space claims it and the visual is gone. 

When she pulls away, there’s a devilish smirk on her lips that even another drag can’t erase entirely. She raises the joint to her lips again, eyes fluttering closed as she sits back on her heels, the cum-filled strap she borrows from Carol still buried within your walls and yet agonizingly still as she lets her head fall back in contentment. The cloud of milky white smoke that settles around her is entirely erotic, almost a halo of intoxication above her head, but there’s hardly a second for you to admire how ethereal she looks in this state before she presses into you firmly and resumes her rocking. Her pace is punishing albeit shallow, the tip of the strap-on hitting your perfect spot so softly it feels like butterfly sings batting against your skin, but she’s ruthless with her speed and the quick motions of her hips are enough to have you gripping at the sheets and looping your legs around her waist to draw her in deeper. 

Natasha laughs smugly at the sight of you so fried and desperate. She raises the joint to your lips with one hand, encouraging you to take a hit before her other hand wraps loosely around your neck. She doesn’t apply any pressure as you take a long drag, eyes fluttering closed as you involuntarily shiver at the taste lingering on your tongue, but the presence of her grip is enough to have your hips bucking into hers. 

“F-fuck sir!” You cry out when she obliges with your silent request and begins to thrust deeper into your core, the head of the toy pounding right against your sensitive spot with practiced ease as your head falls back against the pillows and your lips release the joint. A cough falls off your lips as you moan around the smoke in your lungs, eyes becoming watery from the burning sting, but you have no time to recover from the hit before Natasha’s hand is tightening around your neck and her hips are setting into you faster and harder. 

Her lips purse as she collects spit on the tip of her tongue, letting it fall against your flush cheek before she smears it down your neck, fingers that are still holding the lit join trailing across the expanse of your sensitive and worked over skin. She’s playing with fire now, quite literally, smearing her spit across your chest until she finds a home at your pebbled nipple and pinches roughly, but you have no ounce of self-preservation in your body as you watch the lit joint fall closer and closer to the marked skin of your chest as she tightened her grip on your neck and leans cynically close to your face. Her eyes are dark, clouded with lust and intoxication. Her hips have set a punishing pace and each time she drives the head of the strap into your g-spot your vision goes white with pleasure. 

“That’s not my fucking name. Are you really that much of a slut that you’re thinking about Masha as I’m fucking you. We can get Masha if you’d like, I’m sure she’d love to watch as I fuck you into my mattress until the only words you know how to say are Daddy please. I’m sure she’d love to lay between these legs and watch my cum spill out of you before I push it right back in and plug you up. Fucking whore. Is Daddy fucking you too good? Is that little brain so overwhelmed with pleasure that you don’t even know who’s fucking you?” Natasha lightens her grip on your nipple, bringing the joint back up to her lips before she drops it into the ashtray on her bedside table and grips the dildo, throwing her head back as her thrusts become choppy. “I bet you’d let anyone fuck this cunt. All you want is to cum. Fuck!” She curses as she drops her body against yours, lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss as she squeezes the shaft tightly, cum spurting against your walls and marking them with a milky whiteness. “Cum with me. Fuck!” 

With her permission, the coil in your belly finally snaps, and you arch into her touch as she rides out her own orgasm, the cum slipping down your legs and coating your inner thighs and her sheets. “Fuck Daddy!” 

“Good girl. Scream my name. Let Masha hear how good I’m making you feel.” 

Wanda – 

When Wanda invited you over to fuck, you’d anticipated something quick. What you hadn’t expected, was for her to bind your wrists to her headboard and force your legs apart with her recently purchased spreader bar. You’d been at her mercy for hours now, writhing on the bed beneath her as she took her time working you up. First it had been her fingers that dared to ruin you, the ringed digits slipping between your folds and teasing your clit and entrance until you were dripping onto the bed sheets and pleading with her to give you something more. She’d agreed easily, not even putting up a fight to prove her dominance over you. Those skilled fingers had turned into a skilled tongue. The hot muscle pressed against your clit, lapped at your entrance and slurped up the damp arousal that glistened beneath the moonlight that bled into the room from the open window. She was relentless in her teasing, and as overstimulated as you were beneath her touch, you were equally as frustrated. She’d been at it for hours, bringing you just close enough to taste the sweet relief of your orgasm before she pulled away and began the process all over again. You’d cursed her out six times since she started, and each time she merely chuckled against your core and slapped her palm down harshly against your cunt, sure to let her fingers brush against your clit for merely a second before it was gone and her tongue soothed the ache but brought nothing more. 

Your hands itched to tangle into her hair, and yet each time you reached for her you remembered how she’d so intricately bound you to the headboard with the softest rope in her collection. Your hips bucked upward as she pulled away again, your entrance clenching around nothing as your clit throbbed and protested. A broken cry fell off your lips as you shook your head frantically, needing her back on you and relieving the intense ache that she had single handedly created. Her lips and chin glistened with your arousal as she smirked down at you, the vibrating egg between her legs working her up to an orgasm you could only beg for. 

A whine rippled through your chest before it tumbled into the room, the words you’d been chanting for hours mangled and wrong as they came spiraling out fast and strung together. “Captain! P-Please!” Wanda growled lowly at the slip, her eyes dark and sinister as she leaned forward to grab your jaw and force your eyes on her. 

“What did you call me?” Despite how she articulated every syllable in the sentence, she wasn’t really looking for you to respond to her. In a swift motion, she’d reached across the bed to grab the panties that she’d pulled from your legs when you’d first joined her in the bedroom, and shoved them into your mouth. The balled up fabric was damp and uncomfortable as it sat on your tongue, but despite how hard you strained to force them away from your mouth, you couldn’t get them out with your arms bound and her body restricting your movements. 

Your eyes tracked her movements as she fumbled around in the drawers of her bedside table, thighs straddling your waist as she leaned forward and subsequently rocked the vibrating egg farther into her tight channel. She trembled in pleasure, but everything about her was always so perfectly kept that it was hardly noticeable to anyone who wasn’t you. Her rustling had lasted mere seconds before a black marker that had been used weeks prior to mark up a project poster now in her grip and uncapped. You had no idea what she planned to do with it, but there wasn’t any way for you to ask if you wanted to. You were helpless to watch as she slid down your body and dragged the inky tip across the skin of your breasts before moving downward. 

You gasped when the cold tip of the marker dragged across the skin right above your mound, thick black letters that you had to strain your neck to read lingering on your skin only to be gone when you washed your body of her touch later that night. ‘Mommy’s Slut’, was written just above your cunt, but Wanda wasn’t satisfied in stopping there. She dragged the felt tip across the inside of your thigh, holding your legs still as they wiggled away from the ticklish sensations she provoked. A thick arrow pointed straight at your weeping entrance, and Wanda was cruel enough to write, ‘cum slut’ at the tip of the arrow. A cry fell off your lips when she threw the marker onto the floor, and returned to her position between your legs. Her mouth was cruel as it worked you up to the edge, but unlike the times prior, she hadn’t stopped when you’d begun to wriggle around as an indication of your approaching orgasm. You fell over the cliffside in bliss, but that had only lasted long enough for your orgasm to crash over you and then she was gone, forcing you to ride it out with no further stimulation. 

A harsh slap met your sensitive cunt when you finally stilled on her bed, teary eyed and desperate for something more as you stared up at her with wide pleading eyes. Wanda wasn’t willing to comply however, and instead of satisfying you fully, she trailed harsh bites up your torso and between the valley of your breasts before her lips, still glistening with your arousal, found a home against yours. The dainty pink panties with a frail little bow on the waistband still between your teeth and properly wet from your saliva, but she hadn’t trailed so close to your face to kiss you. Instead, she settled her harsh glare on you, a sinister smile curling the edges of her lips upward as she let a damp finger stroke across your cheekbones, “I guess Mommy has to remind you of who you belong to. We’ll see if you deserve to cum in a few days.” 

Carol –

The buttplug is an added sensation that Carol uses to her advantage as she works to unravel you completely before you both have to leave for class. You’re not new to butt plugs, Maria’s quite the fan of them, but you’re new to them with Carol and the ways that she likes to toy with your stimulated body. You're on all fours in the center of her bed, knees sinking into the mattress as your hands grasp and twist at the comforter, absolutely desperate for relief that’s been slowly building beneath the surface. Her fingers are buried deep into your core, curling into your g-spot and massaging your velvet walls with pride. Her tongue circles the plug in your ass teasingly, and every couple of minutes when you least expect it, she presses against the base of the plug in tandem with her harsher thrusts before she scissors you open. 

Carol smirks against your ass as she sinks her teeth into your left cheek, her hand slapping down on you right just as she flicks her thumb over your clit. A muffled moan falls off of your lips as you bury your face into the comforter, your hips rocking back on their own accord as you attempt to chase after her touch, a strangled cry of, “Daddy more!”, vibrating your cheek as you twist your head to rest your cheek against the comforter and stare back at her. 

Carol is relatively unbothered by your slip of her title, but she doesn’t let it go entirely, not that you’re aware yet. Her fingers work into you easily, her thumb rubbing harsher, tighter circles around your clit until you're spasming on the bed. She smirks against the globe of your ass, her thumb pressing firmly against the plug with the hand that’s not buried between your thighs. “That’s not my name Princess and you know that.” Carol says smugly, grinding her hips down onto the edge of the bed as she chases her own relief, knowing there’s not enough time in the ten minutes she has left with you to reverse your position and have you go down on her. 

“Captain!” You cry out sharply, reaching your hand back to grasp onto Carol’s as the coil builds in your belly almost unbearably. The engineering major merely smirks, digging her teeth into your ass a final time before she encourages you to spill around her fingers. That’s all it takes for you to cave and tremble as she continues to scissor you open and curl her fingers into your cunt, but as quickly as your orgasm comes, she’s pulling away and throwing your clothes at your head. “You’re really going to go to class like that?” You question her, laying dazing on her bed as you twist onto your back and watch her run a baby wipe between her legs before she’s wiggling into a pair of fresh panties and reaching for her pants. 

“Yes, and so are you. Get up. That plug doesn’t come out until I take it out.” She says in the most unphased tone, reaching for the crewneck that’s been laying across her desk chair for days, not even bothering to reach for the bra that’s only inches away. 

“W-What?” Your eyes go wide as you sit up in bed, wincing slightly at the pressure in your ass as the plug presses against the inner parts of you sweetly, ropes of pleasure shooting through your core. 

“You didn’t think I’d let you off that easily, did you, Princess?” Carol merely winks before she’s flying out of the room, shouting that you have three minutes to meet her in the car before she leaves without you and makes you walk to class.

[marigoldenblooms]

Drunken Confessions - Drabble

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff  x Agent!Reader

Prompt: You never called on her for anything, always staying at a distance from  Natasha. She was starting to think you hated her, that your lingering glances and continual avoidance was because you didn’t want to know her. That changes when you call her drunk off your ass at 1 am. 

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Drunkenness, slight drunken confessions, mentions of harassment, Reader calls Natasha “Natty,” Natasha calls reader “Agent,” Natasha has a motorcycle, fluff, hurt/comfort.

A/N: Had this one in my word counter for a while, and thought I’d finish it up! Quick little doozy, wanted a break from all the smut totally wholesome drafts I have going (although none of my work is not 18+ even without smut content! Once again, Minors DNI!) Biker women own my heart (I’d love to do a proper Biker!AU if anyone’s got any ideas!) Asks/requests are open! Director!N x Actor!R x Actor!W is coming soon... >:))

Word Count: 777 - Read Length: 2 minutes, 50 seconds. Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners!

~~~ 

It had been a while since you’d been out drinking, and even longer since you asked for Natasha’s help. You were acquaintances, perhaps even coworkers, but she thought it stopped there. You always avoided her- you were a beautiful stranger, lost in the night. And even still, when she heard her phone buzz with your ringtone this late, she picked up without a second thought.

“Agent?” She’d question, brow furrowing as she’d sit up, slinging her arm across her knee. She could hear the sound of cars around you, though from your heavy, stumbling footfalls you weren’t in one. You were drunk. 

“Natty..-“ you’d keen and she’d blush, wiping the sleep from her face as Natasha tried to ignore the sweetness in your tone, and the nickname on your lips- never used for her. She wished it came out of your sober mouth. You’d stop walking and she’d hear you huff, stuck in an alleyway you didn’t recognize. “I think I’m..-lost, I’m lost, fuck-“ 

“And I’m awake,” she’d respond, voice gravelly and thick, but focused as she’d pull on clothes, and you heard the rustle. Your voice would drop into a secretive whisper, still too loud to be actually effective, “Natty, Natty- are you…naked-??” 

“No,” Natasha would be grabbing her motorcycle keys and jacket now, slung loose over one shoulder before you heard the sound of her door, and seconds later the ignition of some vehicle. “I’m coming to get you, Agent. Gimme a landmark-“ 

“There’s a Mc…a Burger King, next to me, mm-“ Your mumble about being hungry was lost on her as Natasha’s tires would squeal across the road, its emptiness allowing her to climb speed quickly. Her voice was closer now, spoken through her helmet’s microphone, “Stay put, I’m on my way.” 

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

“He was… was callin’ me ugly-“ you slur, a blush alighting your cheeks. You’d hiccup, earning a chuckle from Natasha’s focused expression on the road. She’d picked you up minutes ago, careful to drive slower with your arms slung sloppily around her waist. You’d been telling her something about a rude man at the bar, disgruntled by your refusal to ‘go home to his smelly apartment,’ as your mocking voice had put it, “On the inside, and- and the…..outside, mhm!”

Natasha would chuckle again, expecting the insult to roll off your drunken facade, but instead your shoulders shook against her back. Slowing to a crawl on the side of the road, she’d look back to see your face looking crumbled- gleaming with tears. You hiccup again and Natasha turned off the bike, trying to soothe you with an awkward hand around you. She’d pull your side against hers, helmet in the crook of her other elbow as she’d whisper to you, “Hey, hey Agent, it’s alright, shhh..” Natasha’s hand would’ve risen to your cheek, prickling goosebumps down your spine as her thumb would wipe your tears away. Your fingers would’ve risen to hers, taking her palm gently before placing a kiss on it. She’d shift her hand away and you’d meet her gaze- her mouth was open, and your eyes darted down to it. “Natty..” your eyebrows would furrow, pouting as she’d escape your touch, “Why won’t you kiss me, Natty?”

“Because you’re drunk,” She’d roll her shoulders and you’d watch with wonder as her muscles moved beneath thin fabric, Natasha’s coat now on you. You’d have to pick your jaw off the road once you were done. Her words would almost startle you, “And you don’t know what you’re doing, Agent. Why did you call me?” 

“I..” You’d begin, yet your words left you as soon as you started them. You could never think when she was around- distance was necessary for professionalism. You hoped liquid confidence would be enough to bridge the gap, and ask the attractive redhead for coffee tomorrow. You overdid it. You forgot what she even asked, “But I want- want you. Don’t you want me?” 

Your declaration made her smile, and you decided then that you wanted her to do that again. Needed her to. Natasha shook her head, and she thanked your drunken stupor for you not noticing the blush on her face. She’d turn around, donning her helmet again- her voice muffled now, “You’re drunk, Agent. Let’s talk about this tomorrow, alright?”

“Mhmm..” You’d settle, pulling yourself against her back. “So warm..” you’d murmur, crooning into her shoulder. You’d hear the woman snicker, before the bike underneath you thrummed to life. Maybe if that conversation went well, your thoughts sluggishly considered- she’d teach you how to ride it. If Natasha’s playful snicker at your words was any indication, your chance was pretty high.

~~~

[redroomreflections]

Not Easily Broken Chapter 9

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

9/10

w/c:3.1k

Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI (oral, fingering, use of strap, a** eating)

Note: the chapter pictures get cheesier every time I post.

Previously on 

“Here?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. She sits patiently, her legs slightly spread, as you unbutton and push your jeans down your body. You step between her legs, your hips swinging provocatively as you come closer. 

Natasha reaches up, her fingers brushing against your cheek as she leans in to kiss you. The kiss is slow and sensual, igniting a fire in your core. As she deepens the kiss, her hands wander down your body.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” You murmur. “Wanted you.”  

“You have me,” Natasha responds. You gently press against her chest, pushing her down against the bed. She rests against her elbows, watching as you unbutton her pants, and slide them down her legs. The smell of her arousal hits you and you close your eyes as you rest your nose against her pelvis. 

“You smell so good, baby,” You land several kisses against her mound before kissing a trail up to her lips. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Natasha says bluntly. “We can do slow and gentle later. Right now I need you to fuck me.” She practically begs as her chest heaves. 

Your eyes widen at her statement. You had imagined being with her countless times during the separation, but those fantasies paled in comparison to reality. Holding her now, feeling her warmth and presence, did something to you that words couldn't capture.

You take your time kissing her, running your fingers up her arms as you explore her mouth. Natasha’s tiny moan of pleasure sends you into overdrive. Suddenly you can’t get enough of her as you force her blouse over her head. You want to take things slow and savor the moment but you’re also aware of the words she just uttered. 

You kiss down her body, moving aside the cup of her bra to take her perky nipple into your mouth, rolling it around between your tongue and teeth. You can feel her body react to your ministrations and you take your time kissing and suckling her breast, your tongue teasing the sensitive bud. You know you’re on the right track when she raises her hand to keep you right where she wants you. You’ve always loved doing this. Sucking on her breasts, feeling her writhe under you, as she impatiently waits for you to go further. 

You switch to the other nipple, giving it the same attention as the other, enjoying the sounds escaping her throat. 

You slowly make your way down her body, taking a minute to admire her toned belly. You lean back as she reaches behind herself to take off her bra. Then your lips are on her body again, kissing every piece of exposed skin. Her panties are last and for a second you almost think of ripping them off. 

“While hot, these are my favorite,” Natasha mumbles already knowing where your mind is. Understandable. 

You pull back to admire her, naked and laid out on the bed for your pleasure. You can feel her eyes burning into your skin as you slowly push the lace down her legs.

She parts her legs for you and you watch the wetness pool between them, the glistening of her sex causing you to bite your lips. Natasha reaches up, pulling you toward her, capturing you. Your hands are on her body again, feeling, touching, taking in every piece of her. Your hands rest on her thighs, feeling the slightly raised skin of the scar you’d asked about. The one you weren’t there for. It seems like a lifetime ago. 

Your hands slide down her inner thighs. Her eyes close as your fingers tease the outside of her lips. Your thumb rubs against her clit, eliciting a moan from the redhead. You press down a little harder, feeling her hips jump, as you taste the red wine on her tongue. 

“Yes,” Natasha moans into your mouth as you continue to play with her pussy. 

She is soaked, and the feeling of her warmth covering your fingers is almost too much. You slowly sink two fingers into her and she whimpers at the contact.

Your lips move from her mouth to her neck, to her chest. Natasha has never been one to shy away from telling you what she wants. She reaches down to direct your hand, your wrist at a slight angle, and it has her gasping when you hit that spot. 

The look on her face is gorgeous, her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted. She takes her nipple in her hand and starts tweaking it. Her eyes open and they lock onto yours.

“You’re so pretty baby,” You tell her. She bites her lips at your compliment. Her breathing is slower and more controlled,  and you can tell she's getting closer and trying not to lose herself. Your thrusts become faster, trying to keep the pressure on her spot. She grabs your face, pulling you toward her, pressing her lips hard against yours. When you use your thumb to rub at her clit, you feel her pussy tighten around you. 

Her skin flushes, her hands holding onto your wrist to get you to stop moving as she climaxes.

When her pussy relaxes around your fingers, you pull them out and bring them to your mouth. Natasha watches you, a smirk on her face as you lick your fingers. 

“If you wanted to taste you’re more than welcome to,” She says. 

“We’ll get there,” You push her back against the pillows. You move to lie next to her as she recovers. You can’t believe you’ve gotten to touch her after this long. You can’t believe the both of you went this long. How could you neglect this? 

You don't realize she's speaking until she turns her head toward you. "Hm?"

"I asked what you were thinking,"

"I was thinking about how good you taste." You smile at her. 

“Shut up,” She has the nerve to blush. Seeing that smile on her feels like a privilege. She climbs to straddle your body, and you can feel the warmth and wetness of her against your bare stomach. She kisses you, her hand moving down to palm your breast. She moves her lips along your jaw, and then to your neck. She starts with a subtle kiss, and then a bite, before soothing the skin there and marking you as hers. It's an indescribable feeling having the love of your life settled upon you, loving on you. When she pulls back, you can see the desire in her eyes.

“Is it my turn to ask what you’re thinking?” You joke as her hands trace patterns over your torso. Her eyes are all over your body, taking it all in, before she meets your eyes again. 

Natasha chuckles. Her hand rests on your belly, and she gives you another soft kiss on your lips. 

She begins with kisses down your body, her tongue circling your belly button. She nips at the flesh on your hips, her hand rubbing your thighs. She pulls your panties down, tossing them somewhere much like she did your shirt earlier. Her hands caress your legs, feeling the hair between them. Natasha leans in, her breath tickling your sex. You can feel yourself clenching in anticipation. With her hand, she opens your lips and dives in. Her mouth wraps around your clit, her tongue licking and sucking. 

You can’t help the immediate bucking of your hips into her mouth. You don’t know whether to pull back or stay put as you attempt to ride the waves of pleasure you’re feeling. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched and you know you won’t last long. Your moans come tumbling out of your mouth one after the other as she works you up. She brings one of her hands to rest on your stomach and keep you in place. 

You feel the fingers of her other hand circle your entrance, teasing, before dipping into you. You cry out as her finger moves inside of you. Your head drops onto the pillows, and you raise your hand to pull her in closer as you fuck against her mouth. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” You moan into the air. It’s all you can say to praise her. “You’re so good, baby.” 

Natasha hums against your pussy, sending vibrations throughout your core. Your toes curl as you feel the coil tighten. She moves her mouth, focusing solely on your clit, and when she sucks slightly harder, it sends you over the edge. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, moaning pitifully as you experience heaven. Natasha’s noisy pussy eating has always been the best but this was a performance of a lifetime. 

 She stays with you until you can no longer handle it and gently push her off.

She moves up to lie beside you, her chin resting on her arm. When you finally open your eyes, she grins before she presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“Mmm,” You hum as you taste yourself on her lips. Natasha smiles at you, her cheeks pink and her eyes glimmering. You feel the need to kiss her again, so you do, cupping her jaw, and holding her to you.

“I take it that was good,” Natasha laughs. 

“Very good,” You rest your head against the pillows. She simply watches you, her hand finding its way onto your belly again. You drop your hand to cover hers and bring it up to your mouth to kiss. 

“I love you,” Natasha says, her voice trembling with vulnerability, as if this time, the words carried more weight than ever before, even though you had said it to each other thousands of times.

“I love you too,” You whisper to her, pulling her even closer. “I have chocolate ice cream in the freezer,” you suddenly mention, a playful smile tugging at your lips, hoping to lighten the intensity of the moment.

“I would love some,” Natasha nods. “Water too,” she adds as you roll out of bed and rush to the kitchen, the comfort of this nostalgic routine bringing a sense of normalcy to this moment.

You quickly grab spoons, your pint of ice cream, and a couple of bottles of water. You don’t even feel weird about being butt-naked and a little sticky as you race back to the bedroom. Natasha is sitting up this time, her hair mussed and thrown over one of her shoulders as you come to sit next to her. She sits a pillow over her lap, waiting for you to take the lid off the ice cream before you both dive in. 

“It’s good,” Natasha nods. “Thanks.” Natasha hums at the deliciousness of the chocolate cookie dough ice cream. “It’s a lot of sweets for one day.” Alluding to the dark chocolate truffles from earlier. 

“Never,” You shake your head. “Be real with me for a second…” You prompt. 

“Okay?” Natasha lowers her spoon. She’s afraid of what you’re going to ask. 

“If I had never come onto you on Emma’s birthday,” You begin. “Would you have tried for us?” 

Natasha looks at you thoughtfully, her fingers gently tracing patterns on the pillow. “Honestly, I don’t know,” she admits softly. “Those last years were so hard, and we were both so distant. But seeing you that day, feeling that spark again... it reminded me of everything we had and everything we could still have.”

She looks over at you, her eyes filled with sincerity. “I think deep down, I always wanted us to find our way back to each other. It just took a moment to make me realize it was possible. Being intimate again, sharing these little moments—it’s something I missed more than I realized.”

A warmth spreads through you at her words, the fear of losing her easing. “I missed it too,” you say, your voice steady. “And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make sure we don’t lose it again.”

Natasha smiles, leaning in to rest her forehead against yours. “We’ll take it one day at a time, and we’ll make it work,” she whispers. “Because I love you, and I believe in us.”

“Me too,” You whisper back, sealing your promise with a tender kiss. A kiss that quickly turns into something more. Natasha pulls back, walking over to the tote bag that she'd left in the corner before she pulls out the eight-inch strap she's been talking about for weeks. 

"When did you pack that?"

"I have my ways." She smirks, tossing it over to you.

You raise an eyebrow, feeling a surge of arousal at the thought of fucking her with it. "We're definitely putting that to good use tonight."

"And every other night." Natasha challenges. She saunters back over to the bed. 

"I'd love nothing more." You pull her close, the heat rising between your bodies as you share a passionate kiss. You don't think you'll ever get enough of this, of her, and you'll savor every second. You begin to attach the strap on to your hips as she positions herself against the pillows. “Do you need lube?” You question. “I’m not sure I have any here unless you do-”

Natasha interrupts you. "No, I'm good." If she’s sure. 

You take the strap into your hand, giving it a few experimental strokes. You take in the sight of Natasha, already lying on the bed and waiting for you. Her hair cascades messily over the pillows. Her bare skin is warm against yours, soft and inviting, as you rest the strap between her legs. The tip of the phallus presses against her clit. 

Natasha sighs softly, her legs falling open a little wider, and you lean in to capture her lips in a heated kiss. You thrust your hips gently, hoping to get her a little more prepared for what happens next. On the next thrust, you reach down and guide the dildo into her pussy. 

You watch her closely, noting every gasp and whimper as you sink the length into her. She's so warm and tight around the shaft, her walls hugging it as if they were made for it. Her hands rub along your back, delighting in the contraction of your muscles as you work overtime to pleasure her. On a particularly hard thrust, her nails dig in just slightly, no doubt leaving indents. You both moan collectively as you pick up the pace. It feels good for you too. Natasha moans beneath you, her hips rising to meet yours as you drive the strap-on into her. She wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you in deeper. You reach down to rub her clit, and her reaction is instant.

“Oh fuck,” She curses, her back arching, as she holds you closer. Your breast feels so good against hers. This night is turning out to be everything you wanted. 

Natasha moans your name over and over again, her grip on you tightening, as she chases her orgasm. She reaches down to feel the base of the strap-on and she can feel herself pulsating around the phallus.

“Move your hand, “ You growl as you reach for the offending limb and press both of them against the bed. Now all she can do is take it as you thrust harder. You can feel the pressure building in your lower belly and you can tell she's getting closer by the sounds that are coming out of her mouth. She's trying to talk, but nothing comes out.

"Breathe, baby," You instruct her. "Let go."

As soon as those words leave your lips, she does just that, crying out as her orgasm washes over her. Her legs tighten around you, her whole body quivering with the force of it. Your orgasm follows soon after and your limbs feel heavier as you keep yourself up. The sight of her coming undone under you has you whimpering. 

You don't think you'll ever get tired of watching her orgasm.

The two of you stay there for a few minutes, just holding each other. It feels so nice, being like this with her.

“I want more,” Natasha whispers into your ear. 

“Really?” You lift to look into her eyes. “Aren’t you sore?” 

She shakes her head.

You smile and gently pull out of her. Her wish was your command. You quickly detach the strap and throw it onto the floor. When you turn back, Natasha is on her stomach, her ass raised in the air.

You move behind her and gently run your hands over her ass. You’d always loved this particular part of her body for obvious reasons. You slowly push your fingers into her pussy and you feel her body stiffen.

Natasha whimpers as you move your fingers in and out, her wetness covering your digits.

When you start to play with her asshole, her whole body trembles. You lean in and gently bite her left ass cheek.

"Do you want me to eat your ass, baby?"

Natasha nods. "Please." She mutters into the pillows. 

You lick a long stripe over her puckered hole and she moans. "So beautiful," You praise her, as you tease her with your tongue. "You taste so good, baby." You do what you do best and fuck her well. No part of her is left untouched as you continue licking and thrusting into both of her holes. 

After a few minutes, she collapses onto the bed, breathing heavily. She reaches out and grabs the pillow, her face buried into it, as you continue eating her out. You gently spread her cheeks, and push your tongue inside her, fucking her asshole with your tongue. Her moans are louder and much more brazen now. You can feel her gushing around your fingers. 

Your eyes trail up her body, seeing her push her ass into your face even more, her walls squeezing your fingers. You don't stop until her moans are weaker and further apart. If possible she'd let you do this all night.

You slowly withdraw your fingers and your tongue, before climbing off of her and sitting up. You take the opportunity to admire her. You can't believe she's all yours.

Natasha rolls onto her back, her legs slightly spread and her eyes closed, revealing her glistening sex. You lean in and rub against her thighs. 

She groans and reaches for you, her eyes barely open. "I can't," She whispers, her voice hoarse.

“Okay,” You nod. You reach over to pull the comforter that has fallen onto the floor. You cover her body and she pulls you into her arms. You hold her close, the feeling of contentment overwhelming.

"Thank you," She whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“You don’t have to thank me,” You say. Eventually, you would have to get up and shower but for now you need a little time to rest. 

"I love you," She says quietly.

"I love you too."

"That was amazing."

"Yes, it was."

You smile against her neck. You can't remember the last time you felt this happy.

---> next part

[widowbitessting]

Hair pulling

-💭

💋Sugar Mommies Spicy Hour - A One Off Drabble🌶💋 18+ Only. Minors shoo. 18+ Only. Minors shoo.

Screw it you all deserve something.

All.

Three.

Of.

Them.

Including Baby.

There is just something so..primal...that each of the Trio! (and Baby) just adore about it.

Natasha, Carol and Wanda adore to be the ones pulling and yanking their darling's hair - be it in the bedroom (or anywhere they have you) during sex or at random parts throughout the day...just to cause a reaction...the sweet gasp…

Natasha loves to have you bent on all fours before her, strap burrowed into your tight pussy as she pounds into you - hands clenched into tight fists in your hair for leverage.

Carol loves to yank your head back, when she's spanking your ass red after being a brat for the better part of her day off work. Your body over her lap, ass adorned in expensive underwear, ass cheek adorned red from her hand. Your hair a mess around her fingers.

Wanda loves both, for obvious reasons. She loves that you're her first submissive that trusts her enough to explore her more dominant side; and one of her firm favourites is hair pulling. Now don't get me wrong - Wanda loves to pull your hair when she's fucking you or discipling you - but her favourite way is teasing. She sits you down for a film night, just the two of you; all cosy under a blanket with snacks and wine (and water) on the coffee table, a film of her choosing playing on the screen before you when suddenly, things in the film get a little more...steamy. And this is when her interest falls to you...watching you intently as you take in what's happening...the moans and the way a hand curls around someone's throat...you're mesmerised and unable to look away; even as your cheeks blush a lovely colour of red and your teeth sink their way into your bottom lip. When someone has their ponytail yanked, you all but stop breathing, and this is what makes Wanda smile. She twirls her hair casually, moving her other hand to rest on your lap which causes you to jerk. After a quick and meek apology, you find it hard to go back into the trance of the film. Wanda would wait though, until things cool down enough for you to let your guard down before her hand slips up into your hair and she pulls you close to her, grinning a toothy smile when you let out a incomprehensible stream of words as the shock overcomes you. "Enjoying the film, pet?"

But Wanda also loves to have her hair grabbed too...loves it when Natasha man handles her so roughly with only one hand in her hair and exposes her neck, just for the red head's teeth to sink into and mark it up. Or when Carol snatches her ponytail when she saunters past and slams her into the wall, whispering dirty secrets in Wanda’s ear. Wanda adores it, but she loves pulling your hair too.

Baby loves to have her hair pulled. It really isn’t a secret by the point. A small tug here; a painful yank there. She. Loves. It. But she also likes to pull hair. To get a reaction from her beloved girlfriends. Wanda is always 50/50; either a delayed reaction with fluttering eyes before she pounces or straight up trouble the second Baby tries. Carol will often goad Baby into trying to grab her hair, taunting her until her precious little sub snaps. And when she does? Oh Carol enjoys reminding her who is in charge. Now Natasha, Baby has only ever tried to pull her hair once. The second her fingers gave the slightest tug in the silky red locks, Natasha’s hand is on her wrist and she glowers at Baby; watching as the panic fills her eyes. Natasha’s fingers latch into your hair (or maybe around your neck, seeing as you pissed her off enough) before growling out; “You’re gonna regret that.”

[yummymitzy]

It means everything to me.

Summary: The team decides to play a truth or dare game to end the night after one of Tony’s parties. Throughout the game, reader felt eyes on her, but she doesn’t know that they came from a certain redhead. Would something grow between them once the night falls?

Warnings: G!P Nat, SMUT, hair-pulling, back shots against door, spanking, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, Nat jus bein rough n jealous, 18+ MINORS DNI

WC: 3,154 

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Rogers!Reader

————♡————

Stark parties at the compound were so very often hosted, it could have been for any occasion. As long as Tony thought it was a good time to celebrate, he’d host a party for that night. Today just happened to be one of those nights.

You, your brother Steve, Bucky, and Wanda were sent out on a mission four days ago. You four came back to the compound and deemed the mission successful, which made Tony practically jump up and exclaim that he’d host a party for tonight for another mission gone well.

You were definitely a party person, the life of a party whether you were drunk or not. But goddamn? The last party the team hosted felt like yesterday to you, when it was actually last week, but that was still close enough right? 

As of right now, you were getting ready for his party, as you take a quick glance at your phone, it was 5:45 and the party was at six, so you definitely had enough time to be ready by then. You set down your phone as you went straight to your closet, your makeup already done.

After rummaging through your dresses, it took you a few minutes before you came across your dress of the night and put it on. It was a backless maroon dress with a slit that went dangerously high on your upper thigh, the back of the dress incredibly accentuated your ass to which you appreciated. 

Overall it was a great dress, who were you going to impress? You weren’t sure but you had an idea though. You strolled out of your closet and heard a knock echo through your bedroom, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You still had way more time you wondered as you went to open the door.

There stood Bucky clad in a dark blue suit, hand still raised in the air as if he was going to open the door. Regaining his composure instantly, he drops the hand and leans against your doorway.

“You clean up nice, Buck. Didn’t think you still knew how to groom yourself with all that time you were up in the ice.” You tease lightly as you step back from your door and heading over to your vanity, putting in shiny gold earrings to complement the red.

“Hey… Don’t get used to it though.” He acts slightly hurt before switching to a joking manner. “But do hurry up, doll. At this point the party will be waiting up on you.” 

“I’m done, was just putting in earrings. Now cmon, I need a drink.” You slip on your red bottomed heels and brush past Bucky as you head down the corridor of the elevator, laughing slightly as he tries to catch up before the doors close.

As soon as the elevators open to where the party was being held, you went straight to the bar, in desperate need for a drink. Your eyes widen slightly before you smirk, realizing that Natasha had been put on bar duty.

Natasha was glammed up, hair curled down to her back, a long fitted emerald dress that showed off all her curves, it ran down to her knees and glimmered in the light. Her bright red lipstick complimenting it as she also has on some emerald earrings. 

You approach the bar, surprised Natasha hadn’t caught sight of you yet, until you stood right in front of her eyes, smirking. 

“Hey Nat, what got you doing bar duty tonight?” You lean against the bar counter, your arms crossed. The action making Natasha stare down at your breasts hungrily before she snaps her attention back onto you.

The thing was that you and Nat had this thing going on, where you’d both go back and forth with trying to flirt with each other. You never knew when exactly it started, Nat just started calling you pet names and being more touchy one day.  

But what she didn’t know was that the game got real on your side. You didn’t know what changed but you started becoming more flustered with her advances and even started blushing, something you never did. Until you realized, you liked her.

It had come a shock to you at first but as time passed, you came to terms with it and just played along with Natasha. It wasn’t like she liked you back, you doubt it, hell she might even be cuddling it up with Bruce.

“Fella did me wrong.”

“You got a real weird taste when it comes to your people Nat.” You laugh as you sat upon one of the many stools in front of the counter.

“It’s not all bad, and my taste in people are quite immaculate if you asked me, Y/n” She raised an eyebrow as she prepared your usual whiskey neat, before sliding it over to you as you laugh.

“Alright, alright, I’ll catch you later, Red” You stood up, your whiskey in hand as you go out to the couches and plopped yourself right next to Sam.

————♡————

You had completely lost track of what time it was, the party was long over and the after party had just started. 

You were sat in between Sam and Bucky with Tony on the far side of the couch. Across from you had been Bruce Natasha and Clint, while to the couch on the right of you was Wanda, Vision.   The couch left of you consisted of Tony, Thor, and Steve.

The team was so drunk they could barely uphold their conversations with one another. Thats how bad it was, and it was embarrassing that you were especially drunk too. 

Soon after, Tony stood up from his side of the couch and stepped forward while raising both of his arms. He proposed a game of truth or dare, refuse to do it, you take a shot. Your lips curled up into a smirk, you honestly couldn’t tell if you were too drunk or not but you did know that you wanted to play. 

After hearing the majority of the team agree, Tony had prepared a line of shots, just enough for the first few people before starting off the game. 

“Truth or dare, Capsicle.” Tony stared at Steve, a smug smirk planted on his face as he awaits Steves answer.

“Truth.”

“Is it true that Bucky was the cause of those “mosquito bites” when you came out to breakfast the other day?”

Bucky shifted in his seat at the mention of his name which made you shake in laughter as he playfully smacks your arm, catching the eye of Natasha.

“Yes.” Steve admitted, his face flushing a deep color of red as he leans back into the couch, before regaining his composure and picking his victim. “Wanda, Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” She raised an eyebrow as a slight smirk plays on her face.

“I dare you to give somebody in this room a lapdance. EXCEPT Vision.” Making Wanda widen her eyes slightly as she turns her head to look at Vision, to which he nods in confirmation, letting her know its alright. 

Wanda stands from her seat, slightly surveying the area before her eyes land on Sam, she approaches you with a torturously slow walk as she pretends to walk to Sam, before snapping her head to you and finding her place on your lap. 

Your eyes widen in shock as Tony tells Friday to dim the lights and play a song. You didn’t know what song it was, you were hyper focused with Wanda on your lap. You thought she was going to pick Sam, why you?

Across from you sat Natasha, you noticed she was fuming in her seat as she watched Wanda’s little show. Her knuckles turned white due to her deathly grip on the couch while a scowl was firmly planted on her face. If Natasha had been put into a cartoon, she would have definitely had smoke coming out of her ears.

Natasha was on her last straw when it came to the dance, all she wanted to do was stand up and rip Wanda off of you and take you for herself. As soon as she brushed away those thoughts, Wanda’s dance had already ended. But what she didn’t see was you sighing in relief after she retreated to her seat. 

————♡————

You and the team got a few more rounds in and this round ended up having Natasha as the victim.

“Truth or dare, Natasha.” Clint said as he bites his cheek to compose himself for her answer.

“Dare, arrowboy.” She smirks as she turns her whole body to face Clint as he begins cackling.

“Swap clothes with the person you find most attractive in this room.” He grins, visibly proud at his dare.

Natasha stands wondering her next move as she looks towards Wanda, her best friend. “Just go for it, whats the worst that could happen.” Wanda says in her head while she subtly nods her head towards you. 

Natasha thought it over once more before she strutted straight to you, her hips swaying as she walked, practically hypnotizing you. She held out a hand in your direction, her eyes meeting yours as they held an unspoken gentleness.

You took her hand as you lifted yourself up off the couch, you never realized how drunk you were until you were on your feet. You were slightly swaying as you tried to regain your balance, which was quick with the help of Natasha as she supported you with her other hand wrapped around your waist.

As you regained your balance, you noticed that you still were holding hands with her but you don’t find it in yourself to point it out. You move to take Natasha to another room nearby, her following behind you close by.

Once you both stumbled into an empty room, that was when you sobered up a little, but Natasha seemed drunker than ever.

“Are you sure you still want to do the dare? I could get Wanda to take you to your room.” You whisper, as you look up to meet Natashas gaze. 

You saw something change in Natasha’s eyes, from a drunken look to what you think is hunger?

The emotions that were brewing up within Natasha during the lapdance burst out of her as she shoved you against the door of the room, trapping your body between her and the door. 

“Nat!” You yelp, not expecting a reaction like this from Natasha.

“Ya know, I didn’t really like how Wanda was just grinding up on you..” She husks, her face inching towards yours as your gazes to each other never faltered. You can feel her hand hovering over your waist, soon stopping to rest there on the curve of your hips.

“But you wouldn’t really mind that would you, huh?” She smirked as she buried her head into your neck and kissing it slightly, leaving back bright red lipstick marks, she had also left some hickeys unbeknownst to you.

You sigh, leaning into her touch unknowingly and running your hands through her fiery hair before you pull her up gently and crash your lips onto hers.  

Natasha’s lips were as soft like they looked, you could have honestly gotten obsessed with them right then and there. You deepened the kiss as one of your hands slid down to her waist to pull her impossibly closer.

You were so focused on Natasha’s lips kissing you that you didn’t feel a hard bulge pressing up against your upper thigh. But soon enough was when Natasha started getting slightly desperate, subtly grinding against you as you felt the bulge become more insistent.

That was when you pulled away, slightly concerned. “Are you sure, Nat? You’re drunker than I am.” You ask, your eyes flickering between hers and her lips. 

“Yes baby, I’m sure. Plus I was at the bar handing out drinks, not downing shots with you and Wanda.” She whispered, her attitude rising with the added mention of Wanda. Her teeth grazing the skin of your neck as she nips at it before she pulls away entirely, making you whine.

“Awe detka, so desperate already? Did you get so desperate because of Wanda?” She snarled, as she flips you around by your hips, pushing your face into the door as she kept a deathly grip on you.

“Mphm! No, Nat. It’s all you.” Your voice is muffled against the door as she sternly keeps you pinned there. Your hands flat on the door to keep you stabilized as Natasha starts grinding her clothed bulge on you.

“Damn right it is.” She mumbled as she gave a harsh slap to your ass making you jolt forward into the door as you yelp. Before she continues grinding up on you.

Soon enough, Natasha reaches over to your front and over to your breasts as she gave them a quick squeeze before she trailed her hands to the straps of your dress. You peeled your hands away from the door to allow Natasha to practically rip the dress off of you.

The sight of you braless with a lacy red thong might as well make Natasha drool as her hands went straight to your ass, massaging the flesh and pulling a quiet whimper from you.

With quick efficiency, her dress was off in the blink of an eye, her boxers had an insanely large tent forming, to which you could already assume was by you. 

She takes off her boxers as quickly as her dress as she positions herself behind you on the door. Leaning down, her hands find themselves on your waist as her lips find the shell of your ear, her cock just centimeters away from your dripping heat as her breasts press against your back.

“I can tell you want this as much as I do, detka. You’re practically leaking onto the floor.” She husks into your ear, she doesn’t wait for an answer as she stands up straight and slams her cock into your wet cunt making you press your cheek against the door as you moan out. 

Natasha begins to pound herself into you, the sound of skin slapping, your moans, and Natasha’s grunts echo the quiet room as she ruts into your tight cunt.

“You’re so fucking tight, detka. Я не могу насытиться тобой. (I can’t get enough of you.)”She growls as she lifts her hand from your waist to pull at your hair, pulling you up to meet her front, her breasts brushing against your back once more as your back completely arches. 

The new position allowed Natasha’s cock to thrust even deeper into your cunt, her thrusts were powerful, each movement drove you up the door trembling with pleasure.

She started pounding up into you at a more intense pace, making you moan in shock, the action making you push back against her cock. Her hand that wasn’t in your hair lifted from your hip, and came down on your ass once again, sending a hard slap to it as she massaged the flesh immediately after.

“Ah! Fuck!!” You cried, the pleasure was too much to even suppress your moans as you kept pushing your hips back to meet Natasha’s relentless pace. “Oh, please Nat!!” You scream as she drove into you.

“Nat, I’m gon..gonna cum, please can I cum.” You begged, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Natasha fucked you dumb. 

“Go ahead and cum, baby.” 

To which you complied, your release had been intense but yet so full of pleasure. You trembled at reaching your climax, but to your surprise. Natasha kept rutting her cock into you as her thrusts got more and more sloppy as the seconds passed, her grunts turning into whines. 

“One more baby, just for me, c’mon. I know you’ve got another in you, please.” She pleaded as her thrusts grew more sloppier as she leaned her head down into your neck, placing delicate kisses on it as she tries to muffle her whimpers. 

You give her a loud moan in response, the overstimulation soon turning into overwhelming pleasure as you feel your second orgasm of the night building up in your lower belly. 

“Fuck..Im gonna cum detka. I can feel you clenching around me,” She babbled slightly, her red hair fluttering over the expanse of your back as she sets a faster pace for her relentless pounding, now nibbling on your neck to prevent her moans from spilling, her hand gliding in front of you as it frantically rubs at your clit.

“Fuck!!” “Cmon baby, cum, cum on my cock.” You and Natasha cried out as you reached your second climax of the night, your tight cunt clenching impossibly more around her shaft as your juices flow out of your pussy. 

The action made Natasha cum directly after you, the clenching of your soft velvety walls around her dick made her burst her seed into your womb as she let out a loud moan into the juncture of your neck. 

Natasha waited a minute before pulling out slowly, the overstimulation strong as she trembled slightly. She knew you were terribly overstimulated too with the way your legs were shaking. 

She watched as the both of your combined juices leak out of your cunt, a little bit of it landing on the floor as she fingered it back into you, making you moan once more. 

You rested your forehead against the door in front of you before slowly turning around to face Natasha, all while still leaning on the door. Natasha had always been a beautiful sight, especially now. 

Her hair was slightly tousled up, her cheeks were flushed a deep shade of red, her lips were smudged off of her lipstick, and her eyes held a deep softness and slight lust in them. You could always get lost in Natasha’s gorgeous eyes any day.

“Natasha, I just want to ask if this will mean anything to you. I wouldn’t want to have you like this with it not meaning anything.” You ask in a soft whisper, afraid of hearing the answer you dreaded the most.

Natasha saw the genuine sadness in your eyes as you whispered the question, the sight made her heart crack. It took her a second to respond as she gathered her words.

“I’ve loved you ever since Steve showed up with you in the living room. I always hoped that you returned those feelings I had for you. What happened between us right now, means everything to me, Y/n.” Natasha spoke softly, as if she were going to break a porcelain doll if she was any louder.

“I love you too, Nat. So much” You admit, walking up to Natasha and instantly closing the distance between you both. The kiss wasn’t lust filled at all, it was full of love and passion, something that you and Natasha always had for each other.

[just-aake]

Detecting Love

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: A person with the power to detect lies meets the spy who has been trained to lie her entire life.

Warnings: fluff, light angst

Words: 6169

You have the power to detect lies. 

Now, it’s not exactly strong enough to be a hero, but you can honestly say that it has been useful in your life. 

Sure, it gets annoying at times, but one of the many lessons you’ve learned is to ignore minor instances of dishonesty — white lies or small things like that — since it helps reduce unnecessary confusion or chaos with others.

People lie. That is an undeniable fact of life.

And while one may believe that being able to detect such things is great, the truth is there are times when you find yourself resenting your power. 

Because, of course, everyone experiences moments when they wish that someone important to them isn't lying.

Like when your fiancée tells you she loves you.

There wasn’t really a malicious reason behind why a usually affectionate statement suddenly became so hurtful.

There was no cheating.

There was no fighting.

It was just another one of the many lessons you’ve learned in life.

That sometimes…a truth can also become a lie.

It’s just unfortunate that this lesson happened to you in such a way.

These kinds of moments make you wonder if maybe it’s better that people shouldn’t always know when someone is lying to them.

Then they don’t end up alone, drinking at a bar late into the night, trying to numb the pain of a broken heart.

You let out a heavy sigh as you stare at the pair of rings resting on the bar top, remembering the conversation that ended with one of them being returned to you. 

It was a heart-wrenching discussion where your fiancée confessed her steadily changed feelings for you, leading to the resolution to remain friends. 

And while neither of you is completely at fault for why things ended, you can’t help but blame your stupid power for putting you in the situation in the first place. 

You sigh heavily once more before swiftly downing the glass the bartender had set in front of you.

At least your current attempt to drown your sorrow is going well, judging by how the rings start to blur in your vision.

With a sad sigh, you reach for the rings to put them away, but in your clumsy state, one slips from your grasp and tumbles to the floor.

Just as you move to retrieve it, a hand beats you to it. 

Looking up, you find a red-haired stranger standing before you, offering the ring to you with a charming smile.

She looks familiar but the drunken haze in your brain makes it hard for you to remember where you’ve seen her before.

“Here, you dropped this,” she says, her voice low and smooth.

She’s beautiful and her voice sounds perfect. You think to yourself as you take the ring from her.

She chuckles lightly, “Thanks.”

Oh, did you say that out loud? You must be more drunk than you thought.

The woman offers her hand to you in greeting, and with a confident smirk, she introduces herself.

“My name’s Natalie. Natalie Rushman.”

Immediately, a red aura surrounds her, causing you to roll your eyes and return your attention back to the bar. 

“Liar,” you mutter tiredly as you gesture to the bartender to close your tab, not really in the mood to deal with any more lies tonight.

At the corner of your eyes, you see the stranger give you a slightly impressed look.

Ready to leave, you stand up quickly from your seat.

However, the action makes the room suddenly spin in your vision, causing you to stagger backward. 

A hand steadies you, resting gently on your back, and you unconsciously lean back against her surprisingly strong frame for support.

There’s a soft chuckle near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Let me try again,” she whispers smoothly, guiding you upright and turning you around to face her.

Offering her hand once more, she reintroduces herself.

“My name’s Natasha Romanoff. I’m here to recruit you to work for the Avengers.”

You blink slowly, trying to comprehend her words through your drunken haze. You wonder if the alcohol is affecting you more than you thought when no red aura appears this time at her words.

Chuckling to yourself, you shake your head in disbelief, unfortunately worsening the pounding in your skull. 

Work for the Avengers? That has to be a lie.

Before you can think about it any further, you feel yourself falling once more, unable to remain upright.

Strong arms catch you, and as your consciousness fades, you see a blurry glimpse of her striking green eyes before succumbing to darkness.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

You wake to the pounding in your head and the bright sunlight streaming through your window. Turning away, you groan into your pillow, remembering that your fiancée – your ex-fiancée – would typically close the curtains before leaving for work.

Now that she’s gone, you’re going to have to adjust to living alone once again.

A cup being placed on the nightstand startles you into sitting up, as you turn in surprise to find the beautiful red-haired stranger beside your bed.

“For your headache,” she explains, placing some medicine next to the cup.

Your mouth hangs open as you struggle to remember the events of last night, some of which are honestly a blur. 

You examine yourself, checking your clothes and finding them unchanged from the previous night, and then you scan your surroundings again and realize in relief that nothing was out of place.

Well, except for the presence of this stranger in your home, who’s patiently waiting for you to gather yourself.

Searching through your drunken memories, you think you vaguely remember meeting her last night. She had mentioned her name was — Nata…? 

“Natalie?” you ask with uncertainty.

At her raised brow, you quickly apologize, feeling bad for not remembering correctly.

“I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember, but did we…did something happen between us last night?” you ask hesitantly.

Her face twists in genuine sadness and disappointment, causing a panic to run through you as you struggle to recall what could’ve possibly happened between the two of you for her to have such an expression.

“I’m hurt,” she finally says, placing a hand on her chest, “And after you even said that it was the best night of your life.”

Seeing the familiar red aura appear around her at her words, you let out a brief sigh of relief before realization sets in, and you give her a hard glare.

“You’re lying.”

Her hurt expression quickly morphs into an impressed look, and you are slightly startled at how effortlessly she was able to shift her emotions. 

The woman straightens her posture and crosses her arms, adopting a commanding stance that seems more likely her typical demeanor.

“So it’s not just luck,” she remarks, studying you curiously. 

At her words, you quickly rise from your bed in confusion.

However, the action causes you to wince in pain at the pounding in your head. 

Shutting your eyes tightly, you hold your head in comfort and lean lightly on the nightstand for support. 

As you do, your hand brushes against yesterday’s newspaper that you had been reading moments before your ex said those fateful three words that led to the heartbreaking conversation between the two of you. 

When the pain subsides, you slowly open your eyes, catching a glimpse of the front page before doing a double take.

The front features an article about the opening of the new Avenger Compound, including a photo capturing the Avenger members posed in front of the completed building. 

What catches you off guard is the uncanny resemblance between one of the Avengers in the picture and the woman standing before you.

Pointing at her in disbelief, you stammer.

“You’re…,” then, gesturing at the newspaper, you continue, “…her?”

She doesn’t respond to your question but instead nods toward your other room, inviting you to follow.

“Let’s talk,” she says, heading toward your door, then gestures at the medicine on your nightstand. “But drink those first.”

After freshening up in your bathroom, you take a moment to stare at your reflection in the mirror, noticing the remnants of last night’s tears in your slightly puffy, red eyes. 

Sighing, you brush away the depressing thoughts of your failed relationship before taking the medicine and exiting your room.

You are greeted by the sight of your unexpected guest comfortably seated at your kitchen counter, flipping through a magazine with casual disinterest.

“You’re Black Widow,” you say confidently this time, positioning yourself on the opposite side of her.

She closes the magazine with a snap, placing it on the table before clasping her hands atop of it and meeting your gaze.

“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects you, before nodding at you. “And you’re Y/n L/n.”

“How did you…?”

She holds up a wedding invitation draft, displaying you and your fiancée’s names printed in fine lettering. 

Realizing that she must have been snooping around your things, you give her a disapproving glare, snatching the card from her hand and hastily stuffing it into a drawer.

Feeling a mixture of emotions—irritated, sad, hungover—you turn to the fridge, deciding to make breakfast to give yourself some focus. 

After you retrieve the eggs and other ingredients, you heat the stove before glancing at Natasha briefly, asking, “So, what does an Avenger want from me?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see her resting her head against her hand, watching you with interest.

“I told you yesterday,” she replies.

You roll your eyes, giving her a deadpan look, knowing she’s aware that you don’t remember.

“Remind me again.”

Natasha gives you an amused smirk, straightening up in her seat. 

“Alright, I’m here to recruit you, more specifically for a sort of managerial position at the new Avenger Compound.”

Furrowing your brows, you question, “Why me? I don't have experience with that sort of thing.”

“But you can tell when someone is lying, can’t you?”

Pausing briefly in your cooking, you contemplate her words and its possible implications. Not many people know about your ability, and you don’t think you did anything to reveal it to the spy who’s currently staring expectantly at you.

So, in response, you shrug, replying as casually as possible. 

“I guess you could say I’m good at reading people…psychology degree and all.”

A silence ensues, broken only by the sizzling of your cooking, until Natasha finally nods, seemingly accepting your explanation.

You breathe a silent sigh of relief, returning your attention to your current task.

But then she pulls out a folder filled with documents and places it on the counter, causing your nerves to rise again.

“Well, you’ve helped solve hundreds of cases with your interviews of the suspects,” she remarks casually, flipping through the folder before glancing up at you through her lashes. 

“100% accuracy rate in the information that you provided to the detectives,” she continues, nodding at you in acknowledgment. “For a part-time profiler, that’s impressive.”

“Thanks,” you respond with a polite smile, but beneath the surface, a hint of suspicion creeps in as you begin plating the meal you made.

Natasha closes the folder with a definitive snap, making you look at her. 

“You could say it’s almost impossible,” she muses, before a confident smirk forms on her face, and she tilts her head at you with a raised brow in challenge. 

“Unless there’s some way you can guarantee that they’re telling the truth.”

Honestly, you should’ve known better than to think that the experienced spy hadn’t already completed thorough research and investigations into you and your powers before meeting with you.

If anything, this was likely just a test for her to confirm what she already knows about your abilities.

Sliding a plate across the counter to Natasha with a pointed glare, you relent, deciding there’s no point in denying it anymore.

“Fine, what do you know?” 

Instead of responding, Natasha’s gaze lingers on the plate before her, a hint of confusion in her expression. 

Her plate holds a fluffy omelette accompanied by a side of crispy bacon and a slice of golden-brown toasted bread.

As she glances back up at you with a questioning look in her eyes, you take a seat across from her, setting down a similar plate in front of you before also placing a stack of fluffy pancakes at the center.

“What’s this?” she asks, gesturing to the meal.

“Breakfast,” you reply bluntly, taking a bite from your plate.

Natasha raises a brow at you, remarking plainly, “It’s noon.”

“Brunch then,” you correct with a roll of your eyes.

Natasha's lips quirk up in amusement, and she shakes her head.

“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.” 

The red aura appears around her, and with your mouth full of food, you give her a pointed glare.

“Right,” Natasha says in realization, remembering what you can do. She pulls the plate closer to her with a soft thanks. 

The atmosphere that followed was unusual but surprisingly not awkward. Despite being practically strangers, you find yourself slightly comforted by Natasha’s presence. 

If she wasn’t here, you probably wouldn’t have dragged yourself out of bed today after what happened yesterday.

After a moment of eating, Natasha breaks the silence.

“So, how can you tell when someone’s lying?”

Pausing to contemplate your answer, you wipe your mouth with a napkin before responding. 

“Well, when someone lies, there’s always this rush of chemicals that happens in their bodies,” you explain. “It ends up causing the typical indicators — things like fidgeting, sweating, or tone changes in their voice.”

“I didn’t do any of that, yet you still knew I was lying,” Natasha points out.

“No, you're right,” you admit, nodding. “You’re a perfect liar.”

From what you have seen so far, every expression and comment of hers appears genuine and honest, and if it was anyone else, they’d probably believe anything she says.

However, thanks to your ability, you know better. 

Gesturing at her, you clarify, “You still give off the same chemical reactions though, and I have the ability to see that.”

Natasha leans back in her seat, crossing her arms as she processes your explanation.

“It’s mainly visual then,” she concludes before asking curiously. “You don’t even need to hear what they said to know that they’re lying?” 

You nod, ruefully adding, “Yep, my world’s just filled with people glowing red at random.”

“And how long does this ‘glow’ stay around them?”

“Depends,” you reply with a shrug. “Usually not long, maybe a few seconds.”

Natasha hums in interest, tapping her chin, her brows pinching lightly in thought.

You can’t help but smile amusedly at the sight. 

For a person who has such an intimidating reputation, the spy in front of you right now looks kind of cute rather than scary.

After a moment, you break the silence this time.

“So, what’s the job?” 

Natasha’s eyes focus back on you at your question.

“Nothing too complicated,” she assures. “You’ll be in charge of interviewing the new employee candidates and conducting continuous reviews of the current ones.”

“You mean like screening them?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion, already aware of the rigorous and difficult process required to work at the Avengers buildings. 

“Don’t you guys already do extensive background checks before hiring people? Why do you suddenly need me?”

At your question, a charming smile appears on her face, effortlessly shifting her expression like before, though now you understand she’s just hiding her true feelings about the situation.

“That’s confidential.”

You scoff in disbelief and cross your arms.

“You do know that just makes it harder to trust you, right?”

Natasha mirrors your posture, her pretty grin still in place, masking any other emotions.

“Fair point,” she admits. “But to be honest, you should never put your trust in people like me anyway.”

“People like you?” 

“Spies,” Natasha clarifies as she begins to gather her empty plate and utensils. “Which is one of the types of people you’d be looking out for in this position. Their deception skills would be on a similar level to mine.”

You chuckle at that, causing Natasha to pause in her actions, raising a brow at you in question.

“Sorry, but everyone lies, whether you’re a spy or not,” you tell her, standing and taking the empty plate from her with a small smirk. “You’re just slightly better at it.”

A tiny offended look slips through Natasha’s expression at your little jab, her brow furrowing for a brief second.

Your grin widens at the sight of seeing a glimpse of her real self as you turn to place the dirty dishes in the sink.

Natasha quickly regains her composure, moving around the counter to lean back against the table next to you.

“In any case, the decision is still yours. I’ve already confirmed your abilities. It’s up to you to decide if you want to accept.”

At her words, you pause to consider your options. 

A new job working with the Avengers is a great opportunity, but it would be a significant change in your life. 

Then again, you’re already facing a huge change.

Your eyes unconsciously drift to the drawer next to where Natasha is leaning, where the wedding invitation draft remains, and your face twists in sadness at the memory. 

You guess it wouldn’t hurt to add a career change alongside your new relationship status.

At least this way you can still earn a salary while also distracting yourself from the depressing thoughts of your failed engagement. 

“Okay,” you decide, meeting Natasha’s gaze with a sigh, “I’ll take the job.”

“Great, I knew you would be agreeable,” Natasha remarks, extending her hand to you.

A red aura appears around her, causing you to huff and roll your eyes.

You take her hand in yours, giving her a tiny glare.

“Liar.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“I don’t remember agreeing to this.”

You say that as you dodge another swing from Natasha, ducking under her arm to get behind her, only for her to twist her body around and deliver a kick that you narrowly block with your arms. 

Still, the impact has you stumbling back.

“Really?” Natasha asks with an innocent tone as she circles you. “I thought I mentioned to you that training was a part of your employment.”

A red aura begins to appear around her, but you don’t have time to comment before she swings her leg at you again. 

You catch it against your side with a small grunt of pain.

Having been a profiler for criminal cases before, you do have basic defense training, and you always believed that you could hold your own against most aggressors. 

At least you used to.

This current fight is making you reconsider your skills.

With her off-balance position, you attempt to throw her to the ground, but Natasha swiftly regains her footing, catching herself on her hands and executing a fluid movement to flip upright. She then bends low, sweeping your legs out from under you.

You land on the mat with a groan, feeling the impact reverberate through your body. Another pained breath escapes you as Natasha expertly pins you down.

You catch the faint red aura fading from her before throwing your head back against the mat with an exhausted sigh.

“You’re such a liar,” you breathe out, your voice tinged with both exhaustion and playful accusation. Closing your eyes, you take a moment to catch your breath.

Natasha's laughter fills the air, resonating above you, her amusement infectious and drawing a small grin from you. You peek open your eyes, watching as she disengages from atop you and heads over to her water bottle at the side.

“I’m a spy. It comes with the job,” she says casually, taking a sip.

“Okay, and I’m basically just HR,” you counter, pulling yourself upright into a sitting position. “So how does combat training fit into that?”

Natasha gestures towards you with a sweep of her hand.

“You need to be prepared to defend yourself if you ever expose someone dangerous and find yourself without backup,” she explains.

“That’s unlikely considering I haven’t even encountered anyone suspicious since I started,” you remark with a sigh.

It's been a month already, and you're starting to question if your presence here is even necessary.

Before you can dwell further on your thoughts, the cold touch of a metal water bottle against your cheek startles you.

Recoiling, you look up to see Natasha holding it out to you.

Raising a brow, Natasha waves the bottle lightly in offer.

You snatch the bottle from her with a tiny glare, but she only smirks in response.

Apart from the new job, the other surprising addition to your life is your budding friendship with the Avenger. 

After the whole recruiting ordeal, you honestly expected to only have passing encounters with her at the compound.

However, to your surprise, on your first day here, Natasha was the one who volunteered to give you a tour of the place, and in the days that followed, the two of you would often share coffee and chat before you had to head off to your respective jobs.

Those regular interactions with her also earned you a fearsome reputation among the other workers, which actually works out in your favor since they’re already nervous by the time you call them in for a review. This way they are more likely to slip up and reveal anything they may be hiding.

But, like you said, you haven’t found anything substantial yet.

With a heavy sigh, you pull your knees to your chest, resting your forehead against them, feeling the weight of failure bearing down on you.

Then you hear Natasha plop down beside you.

“Back when we met, you asked me why we needed you,” she begins.

Curious at her words, you turn your head slightly to glance at her, waiting for her explanation.

Natasha leans back on her hands, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as she continues to speak.

“A couple of months ago, our surveillance revealed that someone within the compound staff was plotting an attack during the opening ceremony of the new building. However, we couldn’t confirm who it was without risking exposing that we knew of their plan."

Your eyes widen in confusion at the revelation. From what you remember, the opening ceremony was a success. There hadn’t been any news of an attack that day.

“But you caught them, right?” you inquire.

“No,” Natasha responds, shaking her head before meeting your gaze. “You did.”

Surprised, you straighten up, giving her a questioning look.

Natasha offers a small smile, elaborating, “You had recently interviewed him as a suspect for another case, and in your notes, you labeled him as dangerous and untrustworthy, despite everything about him proving otherwise.”

“And you believed me?” you ask incredulously.

Natasha shrugs, “Well, I had no other leads at the time anyway.”

You scoff in exasperation at her teasing, playfully pushing her away.

She chuckles softly before adopting a more serious expression.

“Trust in your abilities, Y/n,” Natasha says with a genuine tone. “If it’s you, not finding anyone suspicious is a good thing.”

You watch her closely, waiting for the red aura to appear.

But as a couple of seconds pass and nothing changes, you tuck your forehead back against your knees, this time to hide the smile threatening to spread across your face.

“Alright, break’s over,” Natasha announces, giving your back an encouraging pat. “Let’s go again.”

You groan in reluctance, remaining in your curled-up position.

“Come on,” Natasha urges, her tone coaxing. “I’ll go easy on you this time.”

You don’t even need to look up to know the red aura is surrounding her.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“What’s this?”

Natasha's voice draws your attention away from the task of pouring cooked popcorn into a bowl.

She's sitting on your sofa, examining a small, elegant card that you had accidentally left on the table.

Widening your eyes in realization of what she’s found, you hurry over to her, but her narrowed eyes tell you that she has already read the names on the card.

“She’s inviting you to her wedding?” Natasha exclaims, disbelief coloring her tone. “It’s only been a year since your breakup, and now she’s already getting married?!”

Sighing in disappointment, you had hoped to keep this information from Natasha, who developed a strong dislike for your ex after you shared the details of your breakup during one of your girls' nights.

Placing the bowl of popcorn on the table, you take the invitation from her hand and head to the kitchen, intending to tuck it away in a drawer. 

As you slide it open, you catch the sight of the old wedding draft buried at the bottom, which causes a tiny pang of sadness in your chest at the memory of that time, of how everything changed so suddenly.

You can't help but wonder how your life might have unfolded if your engagement hadn't ended.

Would you still have accepted Natasha's offer if you hadn't been seeking a distraction from your failed relationship? 

“You’re not thinking about going, are you?” Natasha's voice interrupts your thoughts. 

Glancing up, you notice a peculiar look in her eyes, though it quickly shifts to a neutral expression at your gaze.

After a whole year of spending time together, you could tell underneath her impassive expression that she was upset about something; though, you figured it was just outrage at the situation.

Tossing the invitation into the drawer and shutting it, you offer her a small reassuring smile before returning to your seat beside her to start the movie.

“No, of course not,” you tell her.

As the opening scenes play, you maintain a normal, nonchalant expression, aware of Natasha's gaze still lingering on you even as the red aura fades from around your body.

After a while, Natasha huffs in disbelief before finally settling into the sofa, pulling the bowl of popcorn into her lap.

“You better be sharing that, Romanoff,” you tease, your eyes fixed on the screen.

Natasha scoffs before tossing a piece of popcorn at you.

“Of course, I will.”

Just as you're about to turn your head to look at her and confirm her honesty, she swiftly shoves a cushion pillow to the side of your face, blocking your view.

After a few seconds, she releases it, fluffing the cushion casually before leaning her head against your shoulder and tossing another piece of popcorn into her mouth.

You chuckle at her antics, amused by her playful behavior, before returning your attention to the screen.

A few days later, you find yourself standing on the outskirts of the wedding area, observing as servers and workers hustle to complete the finishing touches.

A sad, bittersweet expression tugs at your lips as you recognize familiar details chosen by your ex, mingled with hints of a stranger’s preferences in the decorations.

To be honest, you don’t intend to stay for the wedding. You're just here to confirm something for yourself.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, conjuring your ex’s face in your mind, and whisper to yourself. 

“I’m in love with her…”

Opening your eyes, you exhale slowly, a content smile on your lips as you notice the red aura surrounding your skin. It's a relief to be able to find closure regarding your feelings for your ex.

“You know, I don’t need powers to know you were lying,” a voice remarks from behind.

Startled, you turn to find Natasha approaching.

She stops beside you, her gaze fixed at the scene ahead as she accuses, “Saying that you weren’t going to come here.”

You look at her briefly before returning your attention to the field.

“I got curious about something,” you admit. “Figured that this was one way to confirm it.”

Excited and happy chatter fills the air as your ex appears, surrounded by friends and family.

Suddenly, thoughts of what-ifs from the other night resurface, prompting you to ask out loud unconsciously before you can stop yourself.

“Do you think I should’ve just pretended that she was telling the truth at that time — when she said she loved me?” you ask Natasha. “Maybe it might’ve worked out between us if I just kept my mouth shut.”

There’s a beat of silence before Natasha finally responds, her tone tinged with wistfulness.

“From my experience,” she begins, “I can tell you that living a lie would not make you happy…no matter how much you wish for it to be true.”

You chuckle lightly, “You’re probably right.”

“Of course I am,” Natasha says confidently.

A comfortable silence falls between you as you both observe the preparations from a distance.

“She is a fool for letting you go, though,” Natasha suddenly adds, her tone casual.

You laugh softly, gently chiding her, “You can’t call the bride that on her wedding day.”

“Alright then,” Natasha concedes, turning to you. “You’re an even bigger fool for coming here by yourself.”

She returns her gaze to the field, muttering under her breath with a hint of irritation, “…still visiting the one who broke your heart.”

Amused, you tilt your head to catch her eyes, chuckling at her words, as you tease, “You know, it almost sounds like you’re jealous.”

When Natasha doesn’t respond or look at you, you raise a brow in surprise and poke her side. 

“Wait, seriously, are you jealous?”

She swats your hand away.

“Stop that,” Natasha reprimands, before gritting out, “I’m not jealous!”

A small grin forms on your face as you notice the red aura appear, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and walk away.

“I’m leaving,” she declares firmly.

“Aww, come on, Natasha,” you call as you trail behind her.

Glancing back at you and seeing your pleased expression, she points at you in warning.

“That smile better be off your face by the time I pull up, or else you’re walking home,” she states before continuing on her way.

Watching her go with a fond smile, you find yourself softly repeating the words.

“I’m in love with her.”

Looking down, your smile widens when you don’t see the red aura appear, confirming what you already knew about your feelings for the red-haired spy.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

As you sit in your office at the Avenger compound, you feel a sense of fatigue wash over you at your busy schedule of back-to-back interviews.

Across from you, the final candidate squirms in her seat, clearly nervous under your scrutinizing gaze. 

A chill sweeps through the room, courtesy of the cold blast of air from the AC, and you can't help but regret your decision to have it set so cold, a choice originally intended to maintain an intimidating atmosphere during interviews. 

With a sigh, you reluctantly pull your hands from the cozy warmth of your hoodie pocket and turn to the next page of questions.

"Let's talk about handling confidential information," you begin, your voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Can you share a time when you had to ensure the secure handling of sensitive data?"

The candidate responds with some slight hesitation, but you sense it’s more from her nerves than any dishonesty, so you continue, moving on to the remaining questions.

Luckily, the rest of the interview goes by quickly and smoothly with her answering the other questions without any problems.

However, now comes the final question of the interview.

“Among the Avengers, who do you consider to be the hottest?”

Clearly caught off-guard, she stumbles over her words, “W-what?” 

Maintaining your serious demeanor, you repeat the question.

“Who do you believe is the hottest Avenger?”

After a moment's pause, she softly answers, “Black Widow..."

Setting your clipboard down, you extend your hand.

"Thank you for coming. It was nice meeting you," you say, signaling the end of the interview.

As she thanks you and leaves, you flip to the last paper on your clipboard, revealing a sheet with tick marks beside the names of your Avenger friends.

With an amused smile, you add another mark at the end of Natasha’s already leading line.

“I don’t think that last question was approved by Steve,” a voice accuses from the doorway.

Glancing up, you see Natasha leaning against the frame, her arms folded.

You shrug in response, “Makes it more interesting though.”

Natasha hums curiously before moving to your side, perching on the edge of your desk. Her narrowed eyes fix on you.

“Is that my hoodie?” she asks in suspicion as she tugs at your sleeve.

“Maybe,” you reply, hastily pulling the hood over your head to conceal your guilty eyes.

Natasha had left the piece of clothing at your place after her last visit, and given the chilly room, borrowing it seemed harmless enough.

“Don’t you have a briefing to get to?” you deflect, attempting to change the subject.

Natasha huffs knowingly before responding, "I had some spare time, so I came to bother you."

"I’m honored," you quip sarcastically, though inwardly your heart warmed at the fact that she thought of you.

Natasha chuckles lightly, then gestures towards your clipboard.

"Ask me some questions," she prompts, her tone playful yet eager.

Deciding to indulge her, you reach for your clipboard and adopt a serious demeanor.

“Name?” you begin.

Natasha shoots you a deadpan look, prompting you to show her the document with the question written on it.

“If they lie about their name, then that’s a red flag already,” you defend, giving her a pointed look.

“Natalie,” you mock.

Natasha chuckles, shaking her head at the memory before extending her hand.

“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects, playing along.

Skipping past the other general questions, you delve into more targeted inquiries related to threat assessment.

“Have you ever been associated with any extremist or radical groups or organizations?” you ask.

“If you consider working undercover to gain intel on them, then yes,” Natasha responds without hesitation.

“Have you ever participated or been involved in any violent behavior where someone was hurt?”

This one makes her pause for a moment before she finally admits softly, "…yes."

As the questioning continues, Natasha's playful demeanor gradually fades, replaced by a rueful tone.

By the time you reach the final question, she places her hand on your clipboard, gently setting it down on the desk.

"Maybe these questions aren’t meant for people like me," she says sadly, her tone filled with regret.

Observing her disappointed expression, you scoot closer and rest your hand on hers to draw her attention.

“Do you still want to hear my final assessment?” you ask gently.

After a contemplative pause, Natasha nods, curiosity evident in her eyes as she gestures for you to continue.

“Well, based on your answers,” you say with a dramatic pause, flipping through the papers before shaking your head firmly.

“Absolutely not. Extremely dangerous. Definitely a high-risk candidate.”

Natasha huffs in disbelief at your teasing and gives you a playful push. As your laughter subsides, you soften your tone, meeting her gaze sincerely.

“But…I’d trust you,” you admit genuinely.

Natasha's eyes widen slightly before she averts her gaze, clearing her throat. Her fingers toy with the clipboard, flipping to the last page and seeing the score sheet, before chuckling in amusement.

Turning back to you, she tilts her head with a raised brow.

“I don’t get the special question?” she asks.

You take the clipboard from her, offering a knowing look as you begin to organize the documents on your desk.

“I think we both already know your answer to that question,” you reply.

“Then ask me another,” Natasha insists.

Her request makes you pause as you ponder what to ask. Only one thing comes to mind, the question you’ve been hesitating to ask her for a long time.

Meeting her expectant gaze, you find yourself wanting to know the answer, despite the fear in your mind at the possibility of causing another big change in your life again.

Summoning your courage, you face her directly.

“Would you…,” you start, faltering momentarily before gathering yourself with a deep breath.

“...would you say ‘yes’ if I asked you out on a date tonight?”

There's a moment of silence, and just as you consider retracting the question, Natasha reaches out and adjusts the hood atop your head.

Perplexed by her action, you watch her suspiciously. Then, in one swift motion, she pulls the hood down over your eyes, obscuring your vision.

“No,” her voice responds to your question.

Hearing her stand, you quickly remove the hood to see Natasha already making her way out of the door, but before she disappears from your view, you catch the red aura surrounding her slowly fading away.

As an excited smile spreads across your face at the revelation of her true answer, your phone on the desk pings with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you see a text from Natasha.

I’ll pick you up tonight. 

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 2

a/n: Thank you for reading! I know I said I was going to take a little break, but I had some time so I ended up finishing this and decided to post it now instead of later.

[sytoran]

home is where the heart is ★ n.r

— 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ;; 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐘𝐒 & 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒

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

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

chapter summary ★ natasha wakes you up with a pleasant surprise, your gremlin kids are the life and death of you, tony stark is annoying, marital sexting is pretty tough, and you're homesick for your wife's pussy.

warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, some pretty heavy kinks: blowjobs, marital sexting, breeding kink, daddy kink, probably more.

word count ★ 3.1k (feeding yall)

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

You slept like the dead.

Or at least you did, on most mornings, oblivious to the waking world in your sweet slumber. 

Today was different, though. There was a distinct feeling of pleasantness swimming in your subconscious, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It urged you awake, a certain type of wet heat that insistently tugged and pulled.

It wasn’t until a jolt of arousal shot through you like a nine-millimetre shotgun that you jerked awake with a start.

“Shit!” you gasped, yanking off the blanket from your lower half, to reveal your ethereal wife perpetrating what could only be described as a wet dream.

Natasha’s head was obediently lowered in the midst of sucking your erect shaft, her viridescent gaze trained unto you with a twinkle of mischief. Wandering hands were sheathed under the front of your sweatshirt, painted nails mapping out the expanse of your tensed abdomen. 

“Way to wake me up, baby,” you say breathlessly, a hand flying to the back of Natasha’s head in hopes of speeding up your ever-approaching high. You buck your hips once, effectively propelling your hips further forward, guiding your shaft into your wife’s mouth.

Natasha hums mindlessly, palming at your torso like it was second nature. Her mouth moves languidly, relaxed and slow, tongue trailing over the hefty length of your cock in a teasing manner.

Like the devil incarnate, Natasha’s hand glides a broad stroke from your abs to the base of your cock, and starts working her hand in firm strokes. “Fuck,” you groan, a hand twisting into soft locks of your wife’s hair.

The joint stimulation on the head and base of your cock have you barrelling towards a preordained high at a frighteningly fast pace, and the absolutely criminal way Natasha’s head bobs up and down is no help at all.

“Fuck, baby, m’so close,” you gasp, throwing your head back and letting your eyes slide shut. Your big hand guides Natasha’s head with a certain type of tacit power, unwritten but distinct. Natasha feels herself get wet, and in turn eagerly plunges her mouth down with a renewed vigour.

When Natasha lets out a filthy moan from the back of her throat, stifled by the sheer size of your cock in her mouth, pleasure overwhelms your every sense. 

You groan, hips snapping up for the entirety of your cock to be buried in Natasha’s warm and velvet throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“Mama! Mommy!” 

The undeniable sound of little feet scampering across the wooden floorboard and down the stairs, unceremoniously hauls you out of your heaven-like ascension. 

Natasha pulls her lips off your cock with a satisfying ‘pop’ sound. “Time to get up, honey,” she says with the arch of her eyebrow, smoothly turning over in practised motion and leaving you hung and sprung.

“Baby,” you whine, pitifully throwing your head back. Your words fall on deaf ears and you grumble and pull up your sweatpants, just in time for the door to swing open and release the incoming wave of chaos.

“MAMA!!” Emilia shrieks, leaping onto the bed with fearsome aggression, her younger twin brother in tow. 

Your five-year olds didn’t let you catch any breaks, Emilio roaring into your ear while dragging his toy pterodactyl across your face. “Rawr! Rawr! Wake up, ma!”

You leap up in a haze of bedsheets and screaming kids, all your previous indiscretions quickly faded at the sight of your bundles of joy. 

Emilia squeals as you easily hoist her up with one arm, the little girl getting thrown into the air. Emilio receives much of the same treatment, getting dangled in the air by one leg.

“Mommy! Save us!” The boy cries out with a delighted grin and a hearty attempt at hitting your side. You swing them around with fake growls that incite laughter and squeals, steering clear of any sharp corners or wayward objects.

Natasha is more preoccupied with hugging your sleepy ten-year old, and cooing softly into her ear. 

Marina is the oldest of your three, quiet and reserved, with brilliance sparkling behind her soft eyes. “Hi, mama,” she greets you with a small smile, and your heart melts a little.

“Hi, darling angel,” you reply with a big grin of your own. “Where’s my morning kiss?”

At the prospect of the feared morning kiss, Emilio yells and wreaks absolute havoc, the toy truck forgotten in favour of escaping your clutches. 

“No mama! No kiss!” Emilia protests, the Russian determination behind her set eyes a splitting image of her mother’s. Emilio is long gone, visibly hidden under your bedside table. 

You hoist Marina up onto your hip, smiling at the sweet kiss she pecks on your cheek. “It’s mommy’s turn now,” you say easily, sliding up to Natasha with a mischievous grin.

“Ew!” Your little girl giggles, hiding behind her hands as you share a chaste kiss with your wife, one that is far too short for your liking. Either way, the morning kiss routine was a success.

The attention in the crowded room is drawn by a simple clap of Natasha’s hands. She stands arms akimbo, rocking her bed hair, sleep still half-written in her eyes — but the whole look is so endearing that you can’t help but fall in love all over again. 

“Okay, kids. Time to get ready for school! Who wants breakfast?”

The cheer that arises from your children is nothing short of pure jubilation. Emilio starts a chant of ‘Frosted Flakes! Frosted Flakes!’ that has them marching in line out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen. 

Natasha laughs, following their trail, but you drag her back expectantly.

With one arm hanging off the top of the doorframe and the other wrapped around her waist, you pull Natasha into that long sought-after kiss. 

“Mhm,” you hum contentedly, inhaling her sweet scent. “I love you.”

Natasha slowly slides her hands up your arms, savouring the kiss. She presses her palms to your cheeks, adoration dancing in her eyes.

“I love you too.”

*****

The Frosted Flakes do not end up on the breakfast table, after all, because Natasha reasons that the kids had eaten it for three breakfasts in a row and their teeth would rot and fall off.

Toast and scrambled eggs, courtesy of your little handiwork in the kitchen, is the eventual outcome. Food is food to a bunch of hungry gremlins, either way, and the breakfast gets scarfed down in no time at all.

“You’re gonna go soon?” Natasha asks you in the kitchen, giggling at your teddy-bear patterned apron. You make a non-committal hum against your wife’s chest, wanting to stay in her arms for an eternity.

“Mama, we have to go to school,” Marina calls from the front porch, the door clicking open. “I need help with my shoe!” Emilio cries out, hopping into the kitchen with a singular shoe. “I got my shoes done on my own!” Emilia chimes in proudly, tugging on her backpack straps.

Natasha laughs, stroking your hair affectionately. “No rest for the wicked,” she says. “Be a responsible parent and send Marina to school, then go to work. The twins’ school bus will be here anytime.”

You exhale with a smile, pulling your wife in for a kiss that is a tad too long. Tugging off the pink apron, you’re glad you already changed into your work attire — a collared white shirt rolled up to your elbows, a grey-patterned tie, and matching slacks.

Natasha looks you up and down approvingly, then her eyes glimmer with an incited flame as she straightens your tie. You definitely don’t miss the way her hands glide smoothly across your chest to straighten out the wrinkles, and you resist the fluttering sensation that blooms under her touch.

“What a handsome young woman,” Natasha comments, tip-toeing to peck your cheek. You smile widely, preening under your wife’s attention. “Only for you,” you reply happily. “I’ll be off, then.”

“Mama, let’s go,” Marina probes, head poking into the kitchen. Her eyes soften at the sight of Natasha, proceeding to wave cutely. “Bye, mommy.”

Like little ducks, your three children follow you out of the house, with their miniature backpacks and shoes. Natasha watches adoringly from the porch, blowing kisses to Emilia when she yells one last “Bye, mommy!”.

Your Audi SQ7 peels out the driveway, engine revving. Marina is looking out the window, humming ‘American Pie’ with a little smile. As your home fades away in the rearview mirror, you think that this life was all you’d ever need.

***

“Fury, tell Tony that not sponsoring the coffee machines in my building is frankly, quite rude behaviour,” you comment, sitting next to the aloof man who’s snacking on a packet of dried fruit. Steve steals bits of the snack when Tony’s not looking, much to Fury’s chagrin.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Tony replies hotly, snatching back the piece of fruit in Steve’s hand. “You literally leaked the photo of me in a maid outfit, for the whole world to see. You know how many sleazy men have slid into my DMs since then? Pepper hasn’t let that go!”

“What, are you mad that the public now knows that Pepper’s the one that does the dicking down?” you retort. “And Steve was one of those ‘sleazy men’!” 

The accused blonde looks away quickly, suddenly very preoccupied with the tiling of the floor. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve mumbles.

“That’s enough,” Fury admonishes with an unamused look. “The three of you need to get your shit together. Regardless of whether or not Stark is a bottom, I can’t have the CEOs of my powerhouse companies making a bad name. You know how that reflects on me? Stark Industries, SHIELD, L/N-Corp Worldwide Media: The Desolate Downfall of Nick Fury.”

“Is this because I modelled for the gay sex toy shop company? Because that’s just homophobic,” Steve reasons, folding his arms. “And Bucky liked the advert a lot!”

Tony scoffs, making paper aeroplanes with the papers on Fury’s desk. “We literally bring in millions upon millions for you each year. I’m sure that forgives the one time I was high during Y/N’s media conference. The Minister didn’t even notice! He’s like 82, anyways. Close to your age, Fury.”

“And I’m not sorry for calling the Netflix director a bitch on live TV,” you add in. “They’ve got no reason for cancelling all the sapphic shows left and right! My wife and I were invested in Gentleman Jack, okay?”

Fury sighs, the scene before him a spectacle he was no stranger to by now. 

You, Tony and Steve were the face of the up-and-coming generation of brilliant minds and creative thinking. He supposed your overwhelming success and proved greatness softened the blow of your discrepancies in maintaining an unblemished professional image.

“Moving on,” Fury continues. “I want to talk about Project Eagle. As you should know from last year’s report……”

Just then, your phone vibrates in your pocket, with a notification from Natasha’s contact.

You, indeed, were hard.

Upon reading Natasha’s last message, you shut your phone off so quickly that Steve turns and raises an eyebrow at you. You clear your throat and shift in your seat, evidently affected.

The heat that surges through your body pays no help in your focus on Fury’s briefing. You can feel the flush creeping on from the back of your neck, spreading down your body and rushing towards the area between your legs.

Natasha, why have you forsaken me? You think helplessly, the noises in the office fading to a low buzz. When your phone vibrates again, your finger clicks on the message before your brain can catch up to you.

The image that Natasha sends you has you choking on absolutely nothing, coughing up air like a woman possessed. 

Lacy red lingerie displaying thick thighs and a soft tummy should not be this breathtaking, but Natasha pulls it off anyway.

Filthy images flit into your mind uncontrollably, searing images like a broken record player. Your dick has a mind of its own, pressing hot and tight against the seam of your pants.

“L/N,” Fury announces, voice booming and hauling you out of your trance. “What seems to be the issue?” 

In the background, Steve and Tony giggle like schoolgirls, knowing all too well what had occurred. You clear your throat again, shoving your phone into your pocket, hopelessly trying to erase the blessed image of your wife from your memory, just for a moment longer.

“No issues here,” you say with a forced smile, fighting demons with your rock-hard erection you’re desperately trying to cover with a report file. “I’m all dandy, sir.”

“Right,” Fury says disbelievingly, his good eye flickering downwards for a fraction of a second. Embarrassment eats you up whole.

“Let’s hope your attention span is just as ‘dandy’.”

***

“Natty,” you pant, with your wife pinned under you, hot and tight inside of her.

“I can’t believe you did that,” you grunt, punctuating each word with a firm thrust of your hips. “Made me so fucking hard at work.”

Following your incident in Fury’s office, you had exhausted every fibre of your willpower not to lock yourself in a bathroom stall and jerk off like a nymphomaniac.

After a gruelling day of work and coming back to a house of sleeping children, you had wasted no time in claiming your stake.

“I’ve been blue balled for twelve hours,” you groan into Natasha’s neck, mouthing at the flushed skin with fervour. “Spare me some sympathy, darling.”

“Oh, my poor baby,” your wife teases, tracing a feather-light hand over your tensed back muscles and clutching at the back of your neck. “You’re so eager, aren’t you?”

“Mhm,” you growl, scraping your sharp teeth over her collarbone, leaving violet imprints at a respectable-enough level. You roll your hips into Natasha’s, drawing relentless waves of pleasure and a rocking motion that has her throwing her head back.

Natasha’s erratic breathing and badly-disguised moans are music to your ears, a sweet symphony you’d been missing all day. You groan as her velvet walls clench tight around you, hot and wet and all-encompassing.

“You feel amazing,” you pant, the clefted tip of your shaft bumping against her cervix with how deep you nest inside of her.

A high-pitched whine sounds from the back of Natasha’s throat, as her legs spasm in the air. “Wanna fuck you senseless, please,” you groan.

“Do it,” she challenges breathily. You lean forward, manhandling her deliciously thick thighs, pressing your wife’s knees to her head.

The arousal that builds in your lower stomach is pure white heat, fueled by the breathless cries of your wife under you. 

“Fuck,” you cry out, reaching new spots you haven’t before. You surge forth, an unstoppable train, drilling your shaft into Natasha’s dripping cunt like it was your only reason for living. Because maybe it was, as you transcend earthly boundaries with her, only her.

Subconsciously, your hands fly to Natasha’s hefty tits, grabbing the shaking mounds. “Y’so pretty, babygirl,” you say, half-drunkenly, high of the white-hot pleasure that Natasha draws out of you. 

She’s untouchable heaven, silky moans and raspy cries, a soft tummy with rolls that you greedily grasp in your hands.

“Daddy,” Natasha cries, crescent nails scratching down your arms, her suspended legs shaking in the air. The airy lilt of your title makes you leak. “Ugh, fuck,” you grunt, pounding her into the bedframe, sweaty and slick.

“Let me come inside, please?” you practically beg, wide eyes transfixed at the area your shaft meets her cunt. Natasha whines breathlessly, a hand moving to clasp at the sheets. “Yeah, I-I’m on the pill.”

That’s all the confirmation you need before pinning Natasha down with spread hands. You shift on the bed as you mount her, skin-to-skin with your shaft fully-lodged inside of your wife. 

Natasha gives you this dizzy look, glazed-over eyes portraying complete submission.

Then you start moving again, and the world explodes in your hands.

“Oh, fuckkk,” you groan, shoving your fingers into Natasha’s mouth to stop her pleasured screams from waking up the whole house.

The speed at which you drive your hips into Natasha’s is downright sinful, smearing slick all over her rounded ass, dripping onto the bed.

You’re transfixed, as your wife’s big mounds bounce in time with your thrusts, making you drool with want. An animalistic growl leaves your throat as you push yourself in, even deeper than before, making Natasha arch above the bed with a muffled cry.

Just like that, with you buried inside Natasha, do you fall apart by the seams, an unwinding intricate tarp.

Your load gets buried deep inside Natasha’s womb, and you continue with shallow thrusts. “Mhmn,” Natasha moans, following soon after, spurts of slick coating your cock in waves of overarching pleasure.

“Babydoll,” you groan mindlessly, palming at her sides. You come so heavily that it flows out of Natasha, a dribble of thick white fluid, and your wife fingers it back in so desperately that you could get hard all over again. 

You collapse unceremoniously onto the bed next to Natasha. “I want more kids,” you state. You grope your wife’s tummy like it would conjure new life, an expectant look on your face.

“Three is enough,” Natasha says breathlessly, skin shining with a sheen of fresh sweat. She locks eyes with you, hair tousled and lips curled into an adoring smile.

“Okay, fine,” you mutter your acquiescence, both of you knowing that statement wouldn’t hold up for long. “...Give me a minute, then I’ll clean up. You need some water, baby?”

Natasha lets out a pleased hum, snuggling into your chest.

She kisses your left boob affectionately, as you groan with sensitivity, playfully swatting at her arm. “No need. Just want you.”

“You have me,” you respond softly, running a hand through the brown locks of your wife’s hair, flattening it out with gentle strokes. “You always will.”

so that's chapter one of 'home is where the heart is!' i personally choose to believe pepper straps tony down every night. what are your thought on the kids?? mommy!nat?? butch!reader?? the incorporation of the texts?? there's so much feedback i require tbh

reblog or no more milf!nat

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Natasha reunites with her fuck-buddy.

warnings. | SMUT, use of a strap-on, mild dom/sub elements, friends-with-benefits/fuck-buddy relationship, pet names, praise, mild degradation, slight overstimulation, scissoring, dirty talk, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

pairing. | Natasha Romanoff x fem!fuck-buddy!reader.

author’s note. | happy pride month! here’s a little concept. enjoy! no beta, all mistakes are my own. taglist: @hansensfics. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY!

Red hair. Red in her ledger. Reddish lips. Red dress. Red is everywhere.

You know there are different names for different shades, but you just umbrella-term them all—Natasha.

Even the red-adjacent colours are Natasha. Pink and blood orange, even purple made from complete scratch.

Natasha knows all about your little red-habit. She’s even developed her own, too. Whenever she sees red, she thinks of you thinking of her. And that makes her cheeks turn a subtle red, since she’s been trained well. Never let them into your mind.

She’s smug about it. You think it’s on purpose, since her new strap is red, and she has a grin on her face as she plows into you.

The usually pristine bed is wrinkled mess underneath you. You grip onto the sheets tightly, and when you focus enough, you catch a whiff of Natasha’s laundry detergent. You two rarely make it onto the mattress when she visits, always ending up on the floor, against the wall, or on the couch.

She always has you stay here whenever she’s away. If you told your other friends about this, they would call your dynamic with the redhead something she swears it isn’t.

Natasha’s strap-on drives into you with such passion and desperation, her skill bleeding through it all as she expertly fucks you. Your loud moans fill the room, and they’re music to your fuck-buddy’s ears.

“Yeah, that’s it. What a good little slut,” she chuckles, admiring your blown-out eyes and slacked jaw. Her words have you whimpering, a mild pout to your lip—the sight is both cute and sexy. “Aw, poor baby,” Natasha coos in faux-sympathy, punctuating her words with thrusts.

Her demeanour falters for a bit, when she rolls her hips to increase your pleasure. Her aching clit receives some friction, making her let out a soft moan. She cannot wait until you’re a complete fucked-out mess, desperate and begging her to let you eat her out. That’s one of her favourite parts.

Your tits bounce with Natasha’s every thrust. You try to keep your legs open, but the amount of euphoria that shoots through your body makes it difficult to do so.

She blesses you with the push and pull of her hips, grazing against your sweet spot as she brings you closer to your high. Her warm hands hold onto your waist, fingertips sinking into your skin. Natasha’s nails are polished red, all for the sake of a mission that saved innocent lives and ended harmful ones.

“‘S so good,” you slur, voice sounding like a whimper. The tone, along with the squelching sounds of your sopping cunt, make Natasha’s ego swell. “You like this, petal? Hm? You like getting fucked like a slut?” she asks.

You can’t form any proper words, so you just nod your head and mewl. Her words make your pussy clench. Gasps leave your throat as that familiar feeling begins to build up inside you. You ascend the high quickly, and one of Natasha’s hands move downwards to rub your clit.

Her mildly-rough fingertips add just the right amount of friction to your swollen nub, pushing you over the edge as you cry out. Your back arches off the bed, and Natasha’s plump lips meet yours in a steamy kiss.

Her red lipstick has already left smudges along your body and face, a sight to behold. In her mind, she cannot wait to get her private phone out and snap a few pictures. You try to keep up with her mouth as it moves against yours, tongue pushing inside, and Natasha practically takes your breath away.

Your fuck-buddy swallows up your pornographic sounds, dragging her hips in a way that allows you to ride your orgasm out and feel everything.

Your cunt hugs her strap-on tightly, coating the material with your slick. “Good girl,” she exhales, an almost love-drunk smile on her face once she pulls away from the kiss. You grin at the praise, preening under Natasha’s intense gaze.

“Wanna give me one more?” she teasingly questions, slowing her thrusts. She caresses your swollen pearl. You’ve already came for her more than once—on her fingers a few times before she split you open. You contemplate it as her touches become more and more insistent, yet tormenting. Before you can even answer, Natasha makes the decision for you.

She slowly pulls out of your pussy, admiring how you’ve left her strap glistening. You manage to lean forward and get on your knees. You help her take her fake cock off before locking eyes with the redhead, your mouth opening and tongue stretching out.

Your clean up the mess you’ve made on Natasha’s strap, revelling in the taste of your cunt. The sensual scene makes Natasha’s clit throb, and you can feel yourself aching once again. Her breathing becomes heavy, but she doesn’t stop you for one second.

You make a show of it, humming in delight until she’s had enough of your shenanigans. She pulls the strap-on away and pushes you onto your back once again, climbing on top of you. She straddles your legs, and your stomach fills with butterflies in excitement.

Natasha’s wet cunt rests on your thigh, and vice-versa. The feeling of her hot flesh against your skin makes you whimper. She grabs hold of your hip with one hand, and uses the other to play with your body.

“Dirty, dirty girl,” she chides, gyrating her hips as she scissors with you. She cups your chin and lightly slaps your face, loving how you look completely gone.

“You need me so bad, dontcha?” Natasha smirks, picking up the pace. Your dripping pussy rubs against her thigh, whimpers leaving your mouth. “Uh-huh, need you so bad,” you mewl, meeting her movements.

Her head tilts back, red hair cascading down her back just a bit. She’s let it grow out a bit, but you know she’ll cut and dye it another colour soon. You never really mind, but you always prefer her natural shade.

Your hands reach up, moving along her toned abs and cupping her breasts. She’s beautiful—truly a sight to behold. She takes charge, though, pinching your nipples and groping you whenever she feels like.

You become a mess beneath her, climax building up again. You know her’s is impending, too, with the way her mouth drops open and her grinding speeds up a bit. The shared slick-sounds fill the room, as well as the smell of sex and your collective moans.

It’s almost poetic—how you both come undone at the same time. You try your hardest to keep going, euphoria seizing your muscles.

Your hips buck upwards to meet Nat’s, and she gasps as the waves of her orgasm crash down. Her eyes squeeze shut, her nails sink into your skin a little, the sting adding the perfect amount of pain to your pleasure.

You gasp as you slowly come down from your high. The stars in your vision dissipate, and your heart clamours in your chest.

Natasha leans over you, moving closer. Her breasts rub against yours as she uses your body for her satisfaction. You take gratification in this, part of you wishing you could be nothing but her plaything for the rest of your life.

Before your thoughts run too wild, she captures you into a searing kiss once again, taking complete control. She lets you breathe every now and then, letting out groans and sighs of satisfaction, before she resumes her actions.

You squeeze your eyes tightly, seeing a bit of red in the darkness. Natasha is always there—she’s everywhere. But you prefer her on top of you, making you feel the most sinful of things. Things you savour as precious, sensual memories full of red-hot passion.

[wandasaura]

SONG IN THE CAR

summary — wanda just wants to check that you’re not lying, but you can only keep yourself together for so long before you beg natasha to fuck you in the car

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, mommy kink, daddy kink, subspace, public play, inspection kink, butt plugs, packing, strap-on usage, mentions of edging, mentions of spanking, doggy style, car sex, semi-public sex, degradation, praise, dumbification, mentions of free use, finger sucking, oral fixation, men/minors dni

authors note — i’m not even going to apologize for what this turned into because once i started i just kept adding the most unhinged things. as always, this doesn’t need to be read with the yail series but it might make more sense if it is. the ending is a wee bit rushed but i wanted to get this out for you, so i hope you enjoy!

you are in love

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

A strangled whine falls off the tip of your tongue when Wanda trails her fingers across the small of your back. The interior of the store is cold, the electric hum of an air conditioning unit almost as loud as the music that plays through speakers hidden within different vents around the clothing store. You can’t even fathom what business Wanda and Natasha have being in a shop that’s blasting brain melting pop tracks, but they dragged you inside at the first sight of the large LED letters out front. 

You’ve lost sight of Natasha, the Russian made a dramatic show of escaping toward the back wall merely seconds after Wanda dragged you over to look at a rack of denim shorts. The store was geared more toward a generation around your age, the elements of both boho aesthetic and minimalism felt almost too trendy to be authentic, but if you weren’t so… overwhelmed, to put it sweetly, you would’ve vocalized just how much you liked the style of clothes that sat folded precisely on the shelves surrounding you. 

Wanda’s hand lingered on the small of your back for longer than an appropriate second. Despite the cold store that threatened to erase all memories of the sweltering heat outside, the Sokovian’s hands were the perfect cross between just barely warm and unacceptably frigid. The longer they sat on the exposed skin of your back – the baby tee Natasha had picked out for you to wear hugging your ribs tightly and subsequently allowing both her and Wanda access to your sensitive spine – the harder it became to not envision them falling lower and lower until they found a place between your thighs for the second time that day. 

You weren’t looking at Wanda, intentionally avoiding her strong stare and focusing intensely on the white shelves that adorned the walls. You didn’t need to glance at her to feel the devilish smirk that rested across the very lips that had wrapped around your clit and left you needy only a handful of hours earlier to know that it was there and obnoxious. Natasha had kissed her in the car and claimed smugly that Wanda’s tongue still tasted of you, but neither had offered any assistance in relieving the sticky situation between your thighs. 

 When Wanda’s question went unanswered a second time, the question being if you liked anything in particular around the store, a perfectly sculpted brow rose in your direction and the attention you’d been putting on the racks of clothing became a fascination of the past. A slender finger cradled your jaw, cold against your flushed skin but not icy enough to flinch away from instinctively. The subtle gesture had forced your eyes away from the t-shirts and baby-tees you’d been meticulously staring at, and rather onto a set of twinkling green eyes. Wanda’s lips were still curved upward into a smirk, but they twinged with something dangerous as she set her gaze on your dilated pupils and permanently pink cheeks. 

“Mommy asked you a question, milaya. What’s got you so distracted?” Wanda pouts, her lips teasing and thin as they purse in an attempt to ward off a sickening grin of mischief that she wore mere seconds beforehand. She knows exactly what’s distracting you, she’d been the one to suggest this little game when Natasha decided she wanted to go shopping, but still she feigns innocence as you come undone in a disgusting public mall. 

Despite having an answer on the tip of your tongue, you can’t find the courage to share it with Wanda. There shouldn’t be any reason for you to vocalize your feelings when she’s already aware, despite her trying to break you down time and time again. Instead, you settle for something simple, and certain enough to wind her up a good deal. “Nothing.” The word doesn’t roll off your tongue as easily as you would’ve liked. It’s choppy and cuts like a dagger, but it sits lightly in the air between both of your warm bodies as Wanda takes the time to process what you’ve just said. Or rather, how you’ve just blatantly lied to her. 

“Oh, nothing’s distracting you, baby?” Wanda coos, her head tilting ever so slightly to the side as her eyes threaten to unravel the web of lies you're spinning. You don’t even have a chance to answer before she’s gripping your jaw, the pad of her thumb pressing into the hollow of your cheek while her pointer fingers sentence the other side of your face to the same fate. Her grip is tight, controlling, but not harsh enough to actually hurt. She’s mastered the art of grabbing you in a way that stuns you into submissive silence, and though you’re in public where anyone can see, she doesn’t seem to mind holding all the cards in her one-handed grip.  “So if Mommy put her hand in those pretty panties you’ve got on, she wouldn’t find a sticky mess?” 

There are two choices here, you can either deny the accusation and save a sliver of your dignity that’s waning fast as the day progresses, or you can agree with her accusation and hope that your honesty satisfies her need to be right in this moment; either choice will lead to her hand in your panties, you’re not dumb enough to believe that she’ll drop the act when you’re already this far in, but there’s still defiance burning in your belly that deceives you enough to believe you’ll walk away with the upperhand. Hastily, not thinking much of the consequences, your head shakes from side to side in the negative. You’ve decided to save yourself the embarrassment of admitting that your panties are absolutely drenched by no fault of your own, it’s entirely her fault and she knows that. The movement is little, restrained to small jerks due to the hand on your jaw, but Wanda feels it, and she quirks an eyebrow. “I need words.” She tightens her grip, forces your lips to pucker and your cheeks to ache from how her fingers sit flush against your teeth. 

“N-No.” It takes all of your strength to answer her, and even still all of your mustered up courage leaves a fierce blush sinking into the apples of your cheeks and across the tips of your ears, but a fire lights in Wanda’s eyes at your prolonged battle to remain coherent. You’ve been fighting her on decisions all day, trying to keep your head above the surface and your thoughts clear, but there’s only so much clarity in a moment like this. Nobody can blame you for falling beneath the thumb of the hottest lawyer in the world when you’re quite literally putty in her hands. 

“Oh, well then I guess you won’t mind if I check for myself, will you, detka?” You’d discussed this new kink a week ago. You’d agreed to what she called inspections with no hesitancy, though a healthy bit of embarrassment at the prospect of her being able to feel your sopping cunt whenever she pleased, but you’d agreed and even anticipated the moment she decided to put your agreement to good use. You hadn’t expected her to be so bold as to cash in on your agreement in one of the most densely populated shopping malls in the state of New Jersey, but there was no getting around it now. Still, your eyes fluttered away from hers, anxiously scrounging the small boutique style store for other customers or cameras.

Your eyes only found two figures, and one was distinctly Natasha who had styled her red hair in dutch braids before you left the house. For a second, you wondered if this had been the plan all along; to get you into a store where nobody else dared to shop because of the steep prices and violate you into submission, though you wouldn’t technically call Wanda’s premistion a violation, but… still. The only employee that stood on the floor was a smaller woman with silky chestnut hair, and she occupied a space next to Natasha against the far back wall as the two engaged in a conversation that looked to be revolving around a red bikini top your girlfriend held up to her chest. It complemented her hair nicely, would do absolute wonders for her boobs, but she had no real interest in the article if the pinch between her brows was evidence enough. 

Despite the reassurances you found, you met Wanda’s gaze again and choked out a strangled whisper, “Somebody’s going to see.” The blush on your cheeks was sheerly a factor of your mortification, but Wanda seemed to crave to deepen the sharp color on your face as the hand not gripping your face began its ascent toward your core. The flowy white skirt Natasha had picked out for you allowed her access without a fuss, and when her fingers tickled the sensitive interior of your thighs, you couldn’t help but instinctively part your legs for Wanda’s quest. 

“Shh,” The Sokovian shushed you sweetly, her hand loosening its grip on your jaw but never falling away fully. Her eyes searched yours, practically looking through you as she assured that you were okay to continue, anticipating the moment the safeword fell off your lips and all of her movements stopped. You’d never stop adoring her caution in moments like these. “Let Mommy do the thinking, sweetheart. Little girls don’t need to be worrying about anything other than their Mommy.” Her words fell onto you thickly, and a pout pulled at your lips as they sunk in. That submissive headspace all three of you adored was creeping up on you slowly, and her infantilizing words merely accelerated the process as you blinked at her slowly. 

The hand on your thigh brushed across your mound tauntingly slow, and for a second, you’d forgotten that you weren’t going to receive anything from her touch when it finally came. There would be no pleasure to spiral through your core when her fingers found a home beneath the drenched material of your panties. All that would come from her touch was embarrassment and more frustration. You gasped when Wanda’s ring trailed down the warm skin of your cunt, tracing a path downward until it fell onto your clit almost perfectly. Your hips startled at the cold sensation, but Wanda merely shushed you as the tips of her fingers sought out the source of your arousal. She hummed inquisitively, the pad of her finger pressing against your sopping entrance for merely a moment before it was gone and she was trailing strings of your wetness back up to your clit. 

“You’re so wet, utenok. No wonder you’re having such a hard time listening to Mommy. I bet it’s so hard to think when your pretty little pussy is just crying for attention.” Wanda mused mockingly, the pads of her fingers circling your clit that throbbed and ached for actual relief, but the pleasure never came. As quickly as her hand had dipped into your underwear and sought out your intimacy, they’d fallen away and resettled on your hips. The sticky thinness of your arousal smeared against your exposed skin kissed beautifully from the summer sun, and you knew she had every intention of making you walk through the mall with a patch of glimmering dampness adorning your body that you’d never have the courage to explain if someone questioned it. A deep blush settled across your cheeks, but Wanda wasn’t finished yet. Before you could reach out to her and tangle your fingers into the softness of her t-shirt, she was spinning you around and forcing your back against her chest. “Mommy’s not finished yet. Be a good girl and stay quiet while she checks something.” 

You’d almost had the chance to question her intentions before the words were stolen from between your bitten lips and the softest gasp of pleasure fell from you instead. Wanda’s fingers, still glistening with your arousal, had found a home beneath your skirt and against the base of the plug nestled deep within your ass. You’d only started trying the plugs out a couple weeks ago, but in that span of less than fourteen days they’d become something you adored and hated equally. The deep pleasure that came from constantly feeling full was insatiable and you craved it whenever Natasha pulled it out too soon, but you’ve grown to hate how every soft step shifted it against you perfectly, and especially how no matter which position you attempted to sit in it presses deeper and deeper into you without remorse. Wanda’s fingers circle the crimson red jewel framed between the globes of your ass, cheeks still pink from a spanking you’d received yesterday. The touch is soft, gentle, caring even, but when you think she’s about to pull away and end her little experiment, she taps harshly on the center plug twice, sending sparks of pleasure through your body and into your already fuzzy head. 

“So full for Mommy. Those panties are absolutely ruied, moya lyubov’.” Wanda pulls her hand out of your panties, spinning you back around in her arms and cradling you close to her chest as you shake and try to comprehend the fact that for right now, that simple touch was all you’d be getting. You’d think she almost felt an ounce of sympathy for your desperate form if she wasn’t wearing such a cocky smirk. “You’re being such a good girl, detka. Maybe we should keep you like this, huh? All full and eager to be fucked. Daddy could just bend you over anywhere and you’d take it, wouldn’t you?” Wanda preened into your ear, her words thick with lust and traces of an accent you’ve begun to memorize. You’re not sure whether to nod your head and agree, because it’s true, you’d let Natasha fuck you anywhere she wanted to right now, you’re not oblivious to the fact that she’s packing your favorite strap beneath those denim shorts adorning her toned legs, or to shake your head and beg for her to not let that happen. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive in this state for another couple hours, let alone for however long they deem acceptable. “Huh, answer Mommy, baby. Do you want Mommy to keep you like this forever? Want to be ready to use whenever Mommy and Daddy feel the need to take you?” 

“I-I want you, Mommy.” You pleaded, shaking your head frantically at the suggestion that rolls off of Wanda’s lips like its been imprinted onto the tip of her tongue for decades. The Sokovian smirks, drawing you in closer to her chest and letting her forehead rest against yours, her deep sage eyes peering into your soul with how intensely she stares down at you. 

“You have me, baby.” She soothed your downturned lips with a gentle kiss, her touch soft and smooth yet harboring a lingerance of artificial strawberry chapstick if you thought about her taste long enough. The embrace was fleeting, entirely too short, but it had your head spinning when she pulled away and greeted Natasha who you hadn’t even noticed had come up beside you. “Come on,” Wanda patted your ass deliberately, jostling the plug just softly enough to have you hyper aware of its presence but not earning pleasure. “we still have a couple of stores to hit.” 

“I was thinking we stop by that store you like, ducky. We can see if they have any of those little pins you were talking about?” Natasha places a firm hand on your back, her eyes kind but tinted with lust that has settled deep within her stare permanently since Wanda wiggled the plug between your cheeks. There’s a hint of knowingness in her smile, an indication that she knows perfectly well what had just happened between you and her wife. 

The proposition of spending another handful of hours surrounded by incompetent strangers with no regard for others and continuous sounds that blended into static chatter didn’t sound appealing, but unless you called red, they weren’t taking you home. Reluctantly, you took Natasha’s hand, allowing the lawyer to lead you out of the boutique and toward a store much more your style. Wanda’s hand stayed firm on the small of your back as Natasha took the lead, but your focus had fallen beneath the waves as you surrendered to them entirely. 

-

A desperate whine slipped past your lips as Wanda pulled you into her chest, toned arms still warm from the sun wrapping tightly around your torso and keeping you still. The dressing room was saturated in gold plated decor and embellishments, illuminated by a chandelier framed with dazzling crystals worth more than your entire college education. Natasha had dragged the both of you into the high-end designer store with the hopes of them having their new summer collection, and much to your annoyance, they did. The bold colored suits were a powerful statement, she’d look absolutely delectable in them, but that was exactly what you were worried about. The thought of her in a suit so expensive and sleek sent tingles through your belly that couldn’t just be ignored, especially not with your already existing desperation. Wanda wasn’t blind to your frustration, and she smirked wickedly down at you the second Natasha had slipped behind the heavy fitting room door. 

“Shh, Mommy just wants to check.” She whispered against the shell of your ear, a cold hand trailing up the inside of your thigh that is absolutely drenched with arousal. Your eyes burn into hers as you both become controlled by lust, already blown pupils somehow finding additional blackness to manipulate until the color in Wanda’s eyes is entirely vacant. Your bottom lip is bitten and quivering as you feel her fingers start to massage your slick coated folds, a shaky breath at the back of your throat desperate to be unleashed. “Oh, you’re so wet sweetheart. Did Mommy do this to you?” 

You nod shortly at her question, aware of how close the tips of her cold fingers are coming to your clit every time she strokes the length of your folds, but each time they never brush against your stiff and throbbing nerve, merely coming close enough to tease before they’re gone. She circles your entrance repetitively, pressing against it only to pull away seconds later and trail her fingers back down toward the plug, but she never fully grazes that either. She’s content to keep playing with your body like a toy in the middle of the fitting room, her lewd actions have entirely drowned out the sounds of Natasha throwing different articles of clothes around in the dressing room just a few feet behind you, your focus entirely on her and the sensations she’s provoking cautiously. 

“Oh she did? Mommy did this? What a little slut, getting so worked up and Mommy’s not even touching you fully. You’re so easy, dorogaya” Wanda continues to tease condescendingly, giving you not a single second of relief as she digs her fingers harder into your cunt on the last swipe across your panties before she’s hooking her fingers into the waistband and tugging them down. 

Your eyes go wide as you look up at her fully, your shoulders tensing as she keeps tugging the soiled garment down your thighs. “W-What are you doing?” Your skirt is short, it’s flowy and it’s thin but that was Natasha’s entire goal when she dressed you that morning. You know that despite the length every intimate part of your body is covered, but you weren’t prepared to challenge the wind once you stepped outside again. 

“Color?” Wanda stops her movements, her voice soft and kind as she keeps her eyes on you. Everything before this point had been a discussion that you’d had time to prepare yourself for, but this was unplanned and admittedly terrifying, and yet your belly clenched at the prospect of her undressing you in a public space and forcing you to walk around with no barrier to catch your arousal. 

“G-Green.” You mumbled back at her once you’d taken a second to collect your thoughts and swallow your shock. Wanda nodded curtly before she slipped right back into her role, eyes hard and jaw clenched as she continued pulling your panties down before tapping your thigh in a silent demand for you to step out of them. 

“Then stop talking and let Mommy do what she wants.”  Her voice was hard, leaving no space for you to argue, but you weren’t going to. You stepped out of your panties with a gentle wince, feeling their dampness against your shins before the sensation was gone entirely and Wanda was holding them up to the light to inspect. Your cheeks flushed in humiliation, watching her fingers swipe across the soaked material before she hummed and folded them up, shoving them into her back pocket like they were just a piece of paper she’d found on the ground. “Good girl.” 

You bristled beneath her praise, but your attention drifted away from her when you heard the door unlock and Natasha’s soft footsteps came stepping out slowly. There was no question about whether she had heard the entire exchange, but you had no time to pay attention to her cheeks flush with need as you drank in the sight of her in a hundred thousand dollar suit. If your eyes weren’t already blown wide with lust, they certainly were now as you gawked at her defined biceps and breasts, the suit drowning some of her more prominent features but highly accentuating others. A rippled whine fell off your tongue as your eyes memorized the sight, but so badly you wanted to rip it off her body and drag her home to appreciate her fully. 

“P-Please.” You just barely got the plea off of your lips as Wanda sparked up a conversation with her wife, commenting on the fit of the suit before she began her shower of compliments and praise. You’d gone ignored, or maybe they just hadn’t heard you, whatever the reason for their silence toward you, it only frustrated you further. “Daddy please!” You tried again, eyes wet and pleading as you held onto the little attention Natasha was providing you as her eyes danced away from Wanda’s and found yours beneath the bright LED lights. 

“Shh.” Wanda scolded, a finger coming up to sit on your lips as she turned her head to glare at you. It wasn’t intentional, but your lips had done it anyway. The second her finger, still soft from your arousal, brushed against your lips, you’d let your tongue poke out and lick at her finger, able to identify the traces of you that clung to her skin despite how she’d wiped her fingers clean on your outer thigh. Your lips wrapped around the digit, suckling and biting sweetly as the blanket over your mind became thicker and warmer. Wanda didn’t stop you, merely returned her attention to Natasha before the Russian nodded and disappeared back into the fitting room, hopefully changing back into her own clothes. “Mommy needs that back, little one.” Wanda said softly, gently easing her finger from between your lips when it became apparent that you weren’t going to relinquish it yourself. A pitiful whine came falling off the tip of your tongue when she pulled it away, but she merely smiled sweetly and kissed the top of your head. “Come on, Daddy’s gonna check out and then we’re going to go home.” 

You shook your head, absolutely appalled at the suggestion that you’d have to wait until you arrived home to get what you wanted. The mall wasn’t far, but an hour was a long time for someone who had been teased and dragged along relentlessly since the sun had first kissed the gravel paths that weaved and winded through Westview. 

“No?” Wanda furrowed her brows, looking down at you with nothing but softness in her still black and lust filled stare. She’d dropped the condescending tone, abandoned the fleeting touches and teasing, but the only thing that would fully cure the arousal in her eyes was getting a taste of your sweet pussy. 

The words felt heavy on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t last another hour without release, and so they found their way off of your lips before you could panic about the implications of your request, “Fuck me now.” 

Wanda’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but that look of shock that claimed her strong features had quickly become something sinister as she stepped closer to you, invading your personal space and allowed you the slightest tinge of her perfume as her chest came flush with yours and she let a single finger tilt your head upward to meet her heavy stare. “Yeah? You want your Daddy to put that strap to use and treat you like a filthy little slut where anyone can hear you crying out in pleasure? You want an audience, moya utenok?” 

A whimper filled the dressing room as your thighs pressed together, your lack of panties leaving the rush of arousal to drip nowhere by your thighs as you writhed beneath Wanda. A soft nod came next, and Wanda smirked proudly, mimicking your gesture before she stepped away entirely and turned her attention back to Natasha who had only just left the dressing room with the suit thrown over her forearm. 

“Hurry up, moya lyubov’. The little slut wants her Daddy to fuck her and who am I to say no to that?” Wanda taunted, grabbing your hand and leading you back out into the store, letting Natasha check out in peace as she occupied you with whispered promises of how the Russian was going to absolutely ruin you where anyone was around to watch. 

-

The only saving grace about Natasha’s car were the tinted windows that blocked out the eyes of anyone who dared to even get close to the Stingray. The seat was drenched in your arousal, thighs spread wide as you occupied almost the entire strip of leather. She’d need to clean the seats thoroughly when you got home, but for right now, neither of you cared. Your hands sunk into the cushioned row of seats as you pressed your ass out further, back arched and muscles strained as you dropped your forehead onto the window and watched with slitted eyes as your breath fogged up the glass. Wanda watched from the passenger seat, green eyes trained on your desperate form that reflected off the rearview mirror pointed downward. Natasha was pressed up against the door, shorts unzipped and hanging loosely over her hip bones as the strap stood at full attention, no longer confined beneath the stiff denim. 

Your skirt was bunched up around your hips, ass and thighs already red from various hits and spanks that the Russian had laid upon your ivory skin. She’d yet to touch you, but each hit that rocked the plug in your ass sent you reeling closer and closer to ultimate pleasure. All you could make out was white spots as they danced along your vision and intercepted the view of strangers and cars wrecking havoc in the parking lot around you. Even when a middle aged man and his wife had gotten close to the car, shopping bags in each of their hands that you could only assume was a pending return, you hadn’t focused much on what they could see from the outside. Your focus was entirely on Natasha, and yet the lawyer hadn’t done anything since bending you over. 

“D-Daddy please! I need you so bad! Please!” You cried out in desperation, back arching further as your nipples grazed the seats, your ass grinding against the strap that she refused to shove into you just yet. What she was waiting for, you didn’t know, but every agonizing second that passed was becoming longer and longer as you waited for relief to wash over you fully. Only she could get you to that point, and yet no matter how much you pleaded with her she didn’t cave. “P-Please!” A strangled cry slipped past your lips when her hand found your ass and her thumb pressed firmly on the jeweled plug nestled between your cheeks. 

“Shh.” The Russian coos. It’s the first sound that’s come to fill the car that wasn’t your own since she had aggressively shoved you into the backseat, and you greedily drink in the unspoken promise that what you want is coming soon. You have no time to prepare yourself for the intrusion of her strap as it slips between your folds and finds a home within your cunt in seconds, but you gasp so sweetly that Natasha doesn’t stop to give you a moment to adjust to the wide girth that’s splitting you open. You’ve wanted this for hours, she’s in no mood to drag your pleasure out any further, having already tested her own patience as she waited for Wanda’s silent permission to begin. You’d been oblivious to the curt nod that was given by the Sokovian, but as much as the game was in Natasha’s hands now, Wanda still held all the cards. “Do you feel that, malyshka? Feel Daddy’s cock splitting you open? Filling this slutty little pussy where anyone can see if they come close enough. I bet you’re so full. This pretty little plug has been driving you crazy all day, hasn’t it? Mommy picked out such a pretty color for you.” As the words drive you farther and farther into pleasure and submission, Natasha’s thumb presses against the plug and sends your mind spiraling downward into a sea of static energy. There’s a thick ringing in your ears that forces your mind to go blank, your hips that had been stuttering against her quick thrusts stilling as you surrendered your body to her control, willing to take whatever she gave you in this very moment. 

Natasha’s thrusts only grow faster as your moans and whines become softer and sweeter, desperation not only evident in the way your arousal soaks your thighs and the seats, but in the pitch of your moans as they fill the car and ricochet off the windows. You don’t have it in you to feel embarrassed by how loud you’re being, your only focus is taking the pleasure and not letting it slip away again. A broken cry leaves your lips as Natasha’s hand finds your clit, thumb rubbing circles on the sensitive nub as she winds you tighter and tighter. Her own thrusts are becoming choppy and quick, groans of pleasure harmonizing with yours until the entire car is just an explicit symphony of intimacy. Wanda’s eyes haven’t left you once, but you can’t see her with the way you’re bent and arched over. Natasha can, and she curses beautiful in Russian as she gives you the green light to let go. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Cum for me. Cum on Daddy’s strap.” She encourages gently, her thrusts growing harsher as she chases her own pleasure and orgasms with a delicate moan, though it's quickly drowned out by your own sobs and cries of bliss as you writhe beneath her heavy hands and let the coil snap in your belly. Your body shakes in the aftermath, arms giving out on you as you crash against the leather seats and subsequently pull your cunt off of her strap, the glistening material catching rays of sunlight before she quickly tucks it back into her shorts and zips them up. “You did so good for us, malyshka. So so good.” Natasha kisses the bottom of your spine, her fingers working on the plug in your ass simultaneously. Wanda maneuvered herself in the passenger seat, her hand reaching out to just barely brush against your upper back as well. “Relax for me, angel. Let Daddy take this plug out and then we’ll go home.” She talks you through the process, but nothing prepares you for how empty you feel when the metal is no longer flush against your walls keeping you full. A strangled whimper falls off your lips before it’s gently drowned out by shushing and shuffling. Natasha, unwilling to let you go through aftercare in a crowded parking lot all twisted up, opens the door and steps out of the car, nodding for Wanda to occupy a seat in the back beside you. “Mommy’s gonna sit back here with you, and Daddy’s gonna take us home. Just let go, honey. It’s all okay.” 

It doesn’t take longer than five minutes for Wanda to be sat beside you, your body curled up into her chest and void of a seatbelt. Typically she’d scold you for such a behavior, but all she does now is hold you tighter and kiss your head, promising that you’ll be home soon and there will be plenty of cuddles and kisses all wrapped up beneath the heavy blankets on the bed.

[marigoldenblooms]

April Foolishness - Headcanons

Pairing (Not all at once): Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader, Kate Bishop x Fem!Reader

MINORS DNI - 18+

Summary: How would they react to you failing miserably- masterfully pranking them at every turn?

Tags: Fluff, established relationships, swearing, attempted pranking (mentions of bugs/arachnids, fish), innuendos and tension, comfort, light power usage, no actual smut (fade to black).

A/N: Happy silly day, ya'll!! I wanted to do something fun between classes, so this is it- april fools pranks on my favorite girls. Not proofread at all. Enjoy the boops!

Images are not mine, credit to owners! ~~~

Wanda x Reader

You hadn't been dating Wanda for very long.

Well, if you don't count the years of pining, that is.

You had hidden yourself behind a corner in her hallway, arms out and ready to spook.

This had been your same trick from Halloween (which between that and the turnips did not go well-)

But this time it’d go swimmingly.

After thirty minutes later, you heard the familiar clack of her heels against the compound’s floors, and…

Nothing. Silence.

You peeked around the corner to see where the witch had gone, and-

“Boo.”

Her warm grasp hugged your middle , yet you swear you jumped out of your skin.

“What the- Fuck, Wands-“ Your terror was met with her musical laughter, patting the the sides of your stomach.

“Well if you insist, sweetheart.”

Her voice echoed

She’d let go of you, and you could see the sparkling mirth in her eyes once you turned around.

She placed a quick peck on your cheek, looping your hand with hers to play with your fingers, gaze downcast at them even as her mischievous words would enter your head without her mouth moving.

“If you want to spook a mind reader, darling..”

You gulped as her touch grew more bold, pinning you against the wall- face warming as she’d tilt her head,

“You’ll have to do better than that.”

She’d chuckle at your flustered reaction, her grin cheshire as she’d lead you back to her room, giddy with sweet excitement.

“And happy April fools to you too, Wan-“

~~~ Natasha x Reader

Natasha had always managed to prank you first before you could prank her.

One year prior, you’d ended up with an egg in your hair while your whipped-cream pie prank had gone unsung.

And that was some really good whipped cream.

This year, though- you had buttered her up. Perks of being her partner- the pranks could go even harder.

“Good morning, my dearest sunshine-“ You’d murmur, settling her in with breakfast in bed.

Your trick? Salt in her coffee instead of sugar. Genius.

Natasha propped herself up on her arms, giving you an upturned eyebrow, “Oh, and what’s the occasion?”

“Oh, nothing much..” A shit eating grin plastered her face, one that would soon be returned by the redhead.

“Birthday? Anniversary..?” She’d poke at your side as you sat down, her touch ticklish as she helped you settle the tray of food on her bedsheets.

“M-mmn, nothin’, sugar..” Oh, how you’d be eating those words soon enough.

You’d watch as she’d take a sip from her coffee, eyes wide and sparkling as she opened her mouth-

And sighed in bliss.

What the fuck was wrong with this woman.

“Delicious, baby..” Natasha purred, taking another hardy swig, and you watched as she swallowed. “You’ve outdone yourself..”

“I…uh-“ Your babbling words would be cut short as you took a drink of your own mug-

And was met with intense, uncomfortable sodium.

She cackled as you spit your mouthful back into your cup, punching her jokingly with a red face, “You- you fuckin’-“

“Switched them?”

“Not just the brew-“ Your hand would’ve found your forehead in shock, “But the mugs too- how the shit did you do that?”

“A spy will never reveal her secrets-“ She’d lean up to kiss you, but instead would shift the platter over to the side. “And you need to wash your mouth out.”

“Not before I drink my coffee..” You’d hiss, chugging her now lukewarm mug down.

That was, until you saw a plastic totally real cockroach on the bottom of the mug, shrieking before chucking it against the wall.

“Love you too, dear.”

~~~ Yelena x Reader

You didn’t think Yelena could be scared of anything.

She threw a knife at the fake spider you pranked her with last year.

And she spat in the face of the ‘piranhas’ that had infested your room’s bathroom two years ago.

And even so, you tried again this year- although with something much less terrifying.

You'd flooded Yelena's room with multicolored balloons, painstakingly blowing them up before gently setting them on her floor.

And the best part?

She was asleep in her bed the whole time.

You had almost finished the second bag of balloons when Fanny, ever the sleepy Akita, finally stirred from their rest.

The pup locked eyes with you, and you were so thankful that they didn't bark.

That didn't stop Yelena from waking, though.

The blond would rise quickly, eyes darting around as soon as her dog moved an inch. You swear she had murder in her eyes, although that might've just been from awakening so quickly.

It all left her once she found you, though.

Groggily, she'd wipe at her eyes, mumbling something before kicking her foot off the bed to stand-

Bumping into a stray balloon.

She recoiled immediately, yowling as though she'd been pained deeply- and you were at her side in a heartbeat.

"Yelena, shit- you okay?"

"Yeah.." She'd gruff, her shoulders slacking once your hands found purchase on them. She'd hide her head in your shoulder, a surprising gesture.

You wrapped your arms around her, rubbing soothing circles into her back, "No need to be frightened, honey.." She'd hold you closer, and a flicker of thought ran through your mind, "Lena..are you scared?"

"What-? No-" She'd deny, her voice especially thick this early in the morn. "You just startled me-"

"That's a form of fear, hun-" Your chuckle was met with a groan from her, before she pulled her blankets back over the two of you.

Her words were muffled, "Fine, you got me- but now you hold me until I say so."

"My big, bad, scary Lena...of course, honey."

~~~ Kate x Reader

No matter what you pranked Kate with, she was always worried about you.

It's not unfounded, after you fell down the stairs during last year's April Fools, but still.

This time, you’d actually get her.

"Kate, made you some brownies!"

You heard her clamor with a fevrency that made her sound like a one man band.

She burst out of the hallway, expression wild with hunger and apprehension-

Until she saw you holding some kiddy scissors exceptionally sharp blades of murder and death and terror and-

“Babe!” She’d screech, barreling forth to snatch the scissors from your careful hands, placing them gently on the counter, before inspecting your palm for even the slightest scratch.

She hadn’t even noticed the brown construction paper, or the cut letter you’d pressed towards her middle.

“Kate, earth to Kate-“ Your smile towards her shook her from her thoughts, “I’m okay, pretty girl..Happy April Fools!”

Between the panic and the praise, her brain had to do a soft restart after that.

After a few more seconds, her goofy grin would return again, almost coy, “Gave me a heart attack there, you know-“

“I know,” You’d motion to the tin of hello kitty bandaids you’d raided from Tony, “And I was prepared, you doofus.”

She’d smile, nodding along until her face flushed- her hand rubbing smooth circles into your hip.

“But if you, you know- wanted to do some scissoring, as they say-“ You’d sigh, shaking your head with a teasing lilt, “You’re verryy smooth, dear.”

You’d press a boop to her nose, a teasing whisper, “I’ll think about it.”

~~~