Your Plot Twists Stab Me In The Heart Again And Again😭 I HONESTKY TJOUGHT THAT TJIS ONE WOULD BE HAPPY

Your plot twists stab me in the heart again and again😭 I HONESTKY TJOUGHT THAT TJIS ONE WOULD BE HAPPY AND WHOLESOME I still live for them though😪💕

Always On My Mind

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

A/N: This is just a drabble that got away from me. I’m trying to remember how to write again so bear with me.

Always On My Mind

You should buy her flowers. 

It was strange how small things made you think of Natasha. The leaves were turning red in the park that you walked through on your way to work. It reminded you of her hair in the morning, spread haphazardly across your pillow.

You checked your phone absentmindedly.

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3 years ago

OPF request, natasha braiding R's hair after a shower together with some discussion about their past during the braiding? Also some of the head lean backward, pulling on braid for a kiss please :) If you'd like (I would also love it) the showering scene with them both being dumb and nearly getting soap in their eyes or something lmao

yesssssss, this is beautiful!

| natasha x fem!reader | only pretty faces |

warnings: mentions of death

You hear Natalia switch the shower on, the water thundering through the pipes, and you slip out of bed and pad down the corridor to the bathroom. Still no lock on the door: you push it open with your fingertips and inhale the steam that billows out. You step in and shut the door with a click behind you: Natalia’s shadow twists in the shower.

“Hey,” she says, from behind the half-drawn shower curtain. “You scared me.”

You pull your clothes off, let them crumple in a pile next to hers, and tie your hair back.

“I’m not scary,” you say. You lift a leg over the lip of the bath and step into the spray: it’s hot and forceful. Natalia reaches for you, grabs your elbows and pulls you closer. She kisses you, her face warm and wet. Her hair is soaked down, soap bubbles drifting off her shoulders - you reach out and smooth them away with your palm.

“No,” she says. She runs her fingers over your eyebrows, dripping water into your eyes.  “You’re not. You’re cute.”

You pull an awful face at her, but you don’t draw away. Eventually, she smiles at you, kisses you again with that smile still on her face.

“Want me to wash your hair?” she asks, palms flat against your sternum. 

“Yes,” you say. You push your forehead against the strong bridge of her nose. She presses her lips to the space between your eyebrows. “Let me sit down. It’s early.” She laughs.

“Okay.” She presses lightly on your shoulders and you go willingly, sinking to the floor of the bathtub. You trace her thighs with your fingers as you drop, and then you twist so your back is to her, your knees up to your chest. The spray of water is rapidly wetting your hair. Natalia tugs it gently out of its hair tie and digs her fingers into it, sorting through the snarls and knots. Then she sits behind you, lays her legs out alongside yours, and starts the wash.

Her hands are strong and steady, lulling you back into a steady doze. You lay against her chest, allowing her to enclose you, less like a cage and more like a shield against the wide white wall behind the two of you.

Each cycle of the wash is gentle and thorough. You must sit there for at least an hour, but she doesn’t complain of wasting the day or sitting in discomfort in half an inch of warm water. This intimacy is strange, close and naked but not sexual, easy in a way that makes you want to sink into her, crack her open and climb inside. You grip her legs to ground yourself from those images.

Natalia’s hands paused in your hair. “You good?” she asks. The spray beats down on your shoulders

“Good,” you say. You squeeze her knees playfully and in retaliation, she smears bubbles over your cheeks.

“Idiot,” she says, affectionately. You lay your head back on her shoulder and she grins down at you.

“You’re dripping soap in my eye,” you say, blinking rapidly. Your eye begins to burn.

“Oh, God,” Natalia says, sticking her hands into the shower stream quickly to rinse them off. “Sorry, sorry-” She cups her palms and splashes water over your face, too much, and it goes spilling into your mouth and up your nostrils. You splutter, scrambling up into a sitting position and scrubbing at your face. Behind you, Natalia begins to giggle in between her apologies. You twist and spit a stream of water in her face.

When the two of you step out, washed and scrubbed pink and breathing hard from your little water fight, Natalia grabs her towel. You tug it out of her hands. She raises her eyebrows at you quizzically.

The words almost stick in your throat. “Let me,” you say. Natalia hesitates - hesitates like she never does - and you grip the towel, so fearful of her withdrawal.

“Okay,” she says. You nod.

You dry her, feet first, then shins and strong calves and thighs, and as you progress, she watches you carefully. Observes you like she’s learning. You dry her stomach, her ribs, her spine, pausing to touch the rise of muscle beneath her skin. You keep your touch deliberately gentle. Her shoulders lose their tension when you wipe the water from her collarbones.

“Done,” you say, and you fold the towel over the rail and step away. She’s watching you still, hands in fists by her side. She seems to shiver, and you crouch to pick up her fresh clothes and offer them to her. She takes them, but doesn’t put them on, rather holds them out in front of her as if she’s afraid they contain a spider or a venomous snake. “Nata,” you say. Her eyes are wet. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she says faintly. “I-” she cuts off her words and stares down quickly at her feet. “Nothing’s wrong. That was sweet. That’s all.”

Those words break your odd little trance, shrugging off the moment like a gossamer layer. You grab your t-shirt and pull it on over your head, your hair dampening the collar.

“Do you want cereal?” you ask, moving past her out of the bathroom door. 

It seems an age before she answers. “Yes,” she replies, her voice soft, frail like an icicle.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● 

You fix her cereal for her and by the time she’s dressed and wandered through the door of the kitchen, your hair has dried in tangles down your back. She surveys it instead of your face.

“Do you want me to braid it?” she asks, without making eye contact. You shove her bowl towards her and she sinks into a chair, receiving it with both hands. “You remember? We used to braid-”

“I remember,” you say. “I remember most of it.” That’s not at all true. You remember gentle fingers in your hair, your own hands fumbling through soft red and black and blonde locks. You also remember the snap of a neck in your hands, the dead stare of a little girl with her hair still in braids, fresh from the night before. And you remember pain and pain and pain.

Natalia lifts her spoon to her mouth.

You chew meditatively on your toast. You want her legs around your hips again, your head on her shoulder. You want to lie against her, within her, forever. “I’d like that,” you say. 

She smiles at you, relief dawning on her face.

She sits you down on the floor in the living room and switches the TV on. The punch bag is laid underneath the window like a sedan. Then she sits behind you, knees around your shoulders with a comb and a hairbrush and bends your hair to her will.

Natalia is gentle with you: always gentle. She pulls knots apart with her fingers, brushes your temple with her knuckles. 

“I remember this,” you tell her, and her hands still in the half-done braid. The TV twitters on. “This was one of the good memories.”

“One of the only ones,” she says softly. She carries on, twists and turns, locking your hair into itself. “You really remember this?”

“Only the concept,” you say. That at least is true: the braids are your memory, not the hands that made them, not the faces they framed.

“I braided your hair,” Natalia says, after a long pause. Far too casual. “You wouldn’t let anyone else touch it. Except for Kira.”

“Except for Kira,” you echo. You don’t remember Kira. You don’t want to ask: some sickening part of you imagines broken bones and blood in the snow. Natalia finishes the plait and gathers up the rest of your hair.

She pauses.

She tugs lightly on your hair and you tip your head back obediently, until your crown is in her lap and she’s staring down at you. Your neck stretches and strains.

Natalia leans down and kisses you, a touch more like a steal. You reach as far as you can to kiss her again, but she withdraws and pushes your head back up.

Her fingers card gently through your remaining hair, gathering three strands. “You don’t have to remember if you don’t want to,” she says quietly. “God knows I’d rather be ignorant.”

“I’m not ignorant,” you reply. You watch the TV move and flicker with dazed eyes. “I remember the pain. I remember that I don’t want to go back. Anymore.” You’ve dragged yourself from the mud: no, she did. She rescued you.

“I know,” Natalia says. She strokes your cheek with her thumb and you lean into her touch. “I’m grateful for you.”

requests | masterlist

taglist: @when-wolves-howl @fayhar @maggieromanov @transbi-spidey @romanoffscottage @blackxwidowsxwife @lizlil @screechcat @maddess @mellxa @haeva @diaryoflife @natashasilverfox @vicmc624 @strangegardentaco @phantomvael @lorsstar1st @rysnwilder @ima-gi–na-tion @paryl @picnicmic  @smallestavenger @lainjupi   @d1s0nym @simpforflorencepugh1 @the-v01d @kqmui @s1ut4nat @btay3115

notes: listen guys, I am so unmotivated right now. I’m so close to finishing TPTF and I’m so frustrated about this but here’s a little thing to keep you hooked. (also I linked my ko-fi in my bio if you felt like giving me money UNRELATED to fic writing because I am NOT MAKING MONEY OFF this, okay marvel?)


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3 years ago
Rumors

Rumors

Warnings: men, swearing, canon typical violence, eventual smut

She was a spy. She lived in the realm of rumors and secrets. It was hard to know what wasn’t a front.

Part One - Whispers

Part Two

Part Three


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3 years ago

Clint: I don’t think we can mansplain, manipulate or malewife our way out this one.

Natasha: *cracks knuckles*

Natasha: Manslaughter it is

3 years ago

Speak Up Baby.

Speak Up Baby.

Mommy decides to test your limits. It will of course, be fun for you.

Or

Natasha fucks you until you cry.

Warnings: Heavy general NS*FW themes, presumed mutual consent, presumed safe word, mommy kink, use of a vibrator on reader, use of a strap on- on reader, use of bondage (ropes) on reader, reader gets breasts played with, overstimulation, reader gets manhandled by Natasha, reader cries from pleasure and overstim, mentioned edging, reader begs to stop, clitoral and gspot over stimulation, reader sucks on Natasha’s breasts, multiple orgasms, reader gets called a sl*ut, sweet heart, baby and kotenok, Natasha gets called mommy once, no pronouns are used for reader, reader has a pus*sy and breasts

Note you do not have permission to translate and or repost this story thank you :)

It’s straight up just porn lmao💀 It was inspired by one of @nermalina's posts but I couldn’t find it😪 I just woke up when I posted this so apologies for any errors, I hope you enjoy :)💕 Edit: I accidentally deleted this post and I'm gonna cry-

Asking for permission

The sounds of your whines and whimpers were smothered into mommy's breasts as you suckled on them, the couples vibrator inside you sending waves of pleasure into your swollen clit and gspot. Your arms were tightly and expertly bound behind you by a stunning crimson red dyed jute rope. It managed to be soft and worn in, while still being rough enough to hold you still and to leave reddened marks.

The coolness of the bed sheets sank into your bare legs, a puddle of your cum dripping off Natasha's thigh. Mommy had decided to try and see how many times you could cum before passing out after edging you for hours, and you had already done so about three times.

---

"Mo-mommy please I can't take an-y more mmf!" Her hand had grasped the back of your head before shoving your mouth back into her breasts. The roughness and feigned carelessness sent tingles straight to your overstimulated and puffy pussy. Tears stinging at your eyes.

"Speak up baby, what was that?" You could hear the faint smugness and mocking confusion in mommy's voice as she turned up the vibrations with her phone. Your hips bucked and twitched, not sure if to move toward or away from the overwhelming sensation. Mommy's large strap pressing against your stomach.

You tried to answer but the only noises you could only make were some pathetic whimpers into mommy's chest, her moaning softly at the vibrations.

Natasha's soft hands reached down and began to expertly play with your breasts. Gentle fluttery movements at one moment, then groping and tweaking your nipple roughly in her hands. "I can feel how wet you are slut, gonna cum sweet heart?"

The warm tingling pleasure grew more as something coiled and squeezed in your tummy. Your hips with a mind of their own desperately ground down against mommy's thigh, pushing the vibrator harder against your clit and deeper inside you. Slick smearing against Natasha's creamy skin. Bright sparks burst behind your eyes as your body trembled.

Mommy's touch shoved you harshly over the edge. Sobbing as overwhelming pleasure swamped you, your pussy spilling cum and squirting all over Mommy's thigh. Tears streaked down your flushed cheeks.

The incessant whirring of the vibe sent sharp overstimulated pleasure pain straight to your swollen clit as you wailed, trying to push off the toy unsuccessfully. You tried shifting your arms to remove the toy only to find them immobilised. Natasha frowned playfully and tutted, hands grasping your hips and lifting you into the air easily. Your stomach swooped with the unexpected motion.

She brought you down on her forgotten strap, the toy being forced in along with the vibrator. Mommy's cock shoved the vibe harder against your g spot, a near painful squeezing knot reappearing in your tummy.

The strap stretched you wide open, you could feel the silicon pressing firmly against your walls. Waves of pleasure tumbled and crested over your body as Natasha's hips rolled smoothly into yours. Your mouth parted as you whined noiselessly. Not so fast, we aren't done yet Kotenok."


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3 years ago

kotenok part. twelve

Kotenok Part. Twelve

while you and natasha share a moment of serenity with each other, it’s interrupted when you argue about the conflicts in your relationship.

older!natasha romanoff x younger!reader

kotenok masterlist

You wake with your head buried between her neck. Natasha smells like lavender, honey, and vanilla all at once. With her hair strewn across her pillow, crimson red locks, curled into little ringlets, they make way for the features on her face.

The way she scrunches herself nose in slumber, pink lips parted as she breathes, and the freckles say a quaint hello as the sun shines softly on the both of you.

It’s small.

The days like these where New York city isn’t in a cloud of pent up rain and thunder, the days where the sun is out to play, shows off for a daring sunset when it hits eight o’clock right on the dot.

The days where you get to wake up with the love of your life in your bedroom with your head buried in the crook of her neck.

You’re the first one to stir awake. Your limbs aching from prior activities from the night before. Only then, which to remind you of the purpling hickeys left on the skin of your inner thighs and thin parts of you neck.

A thumb rubs along the bruising colour on your leg, hissing when you realize it’s still fresh as a wound. You don’t mind it, it’s all what makes you owned by Natasha and you’re proud.

But as the chilly air of the AC hits you awake, you sit up against your body’s aching will and a yawn washes the sleep away.

Natasha is next to wake up. Her arm moving over to your side in instinct of searching for you. When she fails and feels your side empty, but warm, her eyes flutter open to find you staring at her with swollen eyes.

“Morning.” You beam at the older woman with a looped smile, which she returns in the process. But when the slumber in her slips away and Natasha leans her head against your back, you feel her warm breath fan against your skin.

Her arm circles against your tiny body and tugs you close against her front. The older woman has no trouble dragging you against her for the sole reason she overweights you in size.

When you melt against her front, feeling her mock your actions as she buries her face against your neck, your body loses all control in an effort to just feel your lover.

“Good morning, moya krasivaya devushka.” She whispers it like a nun in prayer, like you were the only thing she believed was worth worshiping.

And despite the language barrier, you welcomed her embrace and smiled through it all.

“I have no clue what that meant, but good morning to you too.” The redhead hums against your skin, her pale slender fingers drawing circles against the skin that protects your ribs.

She makes another noise of content, this time, pulling her head away to pepper open mouthed kisses on the paper thin skin of your pulse. You jerk slightly in response, but found pure and content comfort in her touch and hold.

The older woman held you like that, breathing in and out as her chest presses against yours. With the curve of your back pressed against her chest, her lips on your skin, gentle sayings were whispered along the way.

“I love you.” She tells you, and Natasha makes you feel it every day of your waking moment.

You smile in return, your head lulling back against her shoulder. The action makes the older woman pause and sigh. “I love you more.”

When you and Natasha finally find the energy to slip away from bed and enter the common room, the two of you are greeted by your friends. Steve is bright and awake, covered in his gym clothes, you have no doubt he just came back from running with Bucky.

Natasha has her hair in a braid, settled to one side, she dawns black leggings with a zip up hoodie that looks too small for her. You gave that to her, the grey hoodie from Lululemon that was a size too big for you, was then rewarded to your girlfriend when she said she was a size four while you were a zero.

She makes oatmeal for the both of you. Raisins in yours and she likes hers bland. Wanda enters the room, and when she does, awareness of her presence is inevitable. But she gently smiles when she sees the two of you.

Suddenly, it’s not all too bad.

When the two of you sit on the barstool next to each other, Natasha plans the day ahead.

Kotenok Part. Twelve

You stand beside the older woman as she signs the receipt, with a big purchase like that, Natasha doesn’t even blink an eye at how the total exceeds two zeros.

You pursed your lips in tow, biting your tongue after to let the question from slipping from your lips. But just as Natasha finishes with the sales associate, the redhead looks up from heavy red lashes and stares with striking emerald eyes.

“What’s on your mind, darling?”

The sales associate disappears the moment the bag is in Natasha’s hand. She doesn’t bat another eye at the employee despite being well aware of his knowing look towards the famous Avenger.

It’s the first time Natasha calls you by such name in public and especially around people. As you stare into her gaze, the smile on her lips present and deepening the smile lines and wrinkles, you know it’s genuine.

You shake your head, smiling as you flush under her gaze. “Nothing. I love you.”

Her brows raise a bit. Her lips purse just as yours did, the only difference is that she’s forcing a smile away. Her pale cheeks are red now, you almost feel bad for making such a sensual woman blush within a simple advocation of admiration.

But she expresses back with a hand reaching out to yours. She squeezes your hand, and then she lets the grin rip all over her face.

Only then, you remember the very first time you’ve loved a girl. The brown headed girl, with the pale skin sprinkled with freckles, and her striking green eyes.

You don’t remember anyone else to love after her. She was only there for a brief moment in your life, a few years or so, sat on different sides of the steel bars, and only then, you remember what it is to feel in love.

You know, and you remember because as you stand there with a smiling Natasha Romanoff, you feel it in the bones that were once broken and bruised, now healed and kissed by none other.

She cocks her head this time, curious and concerned for the sudden silence on your end. And this time, she reaches out with a touch of comfort on the pads of her finger tips.

“You sure?”

You balance the weight of your body on your right feet, shoulders sagging as you blink naively at your lover.

“Did you see the smile Wanda gave us today?”

Natasha is the type to suppress her emotions. The type to have been trained to do so for her whole life. And with that training, comes a time of need. In this moment, you can’t read her.

Your shoulders sag and you purse you lips, waiting for her answer if if it were going to burn you.

“I did.”

“I’m glad.”

She raised a brow. “Are you?”

You nod this time, a small smile erupting on your chapped lips. “I am.” You sigh softly. “I think... Well, I hope, she’s opening up to the idea of my happiness with you.”

“I hope that’s her intentions.” Natasha stands taller now and the sales associate is long gone, had been since he handed her the bag. “You never know with Wanda.”

“She has been hurt, Talia.”

“As if you hadn’t been.” The redhead scoffs, almost offended. “Do not apologize on behalf of the woman who hurt you, darling. It only makes you look bad.”

You get angry with Natasha for a moment. Your heart aches with a hurt that you’ve haven’t felt.

“I’m not apologizing for her behalf.” You snap back accordingly and this time, Natasha stands to tower your small stature. “I’m merely sympathizing for her pain because I know what it had been like for someone important to me be taken away.”

You go on with a warm face and blurred vision. It makes Natasha look like a white blob with red hair.

“It’s not wrong to care, Natalia. It’s not wrong to care about people who have been hurt. And it’s definitely not wrong to care about someone like Wanda who’s experienced enough torment in their life. I am trying to be better than the people who have made me. But I am sorry if you cannot see that.”

“I’m not blind.”

You huff at your girlfriend’s words and for the very time, your throat aches at the idea of talking to Natasha about such a topic.

“I never said you were.”

“You implied it.”

You shake your head, attempting to remove the impending ache that spread across your temple and your front. You sigh when it doesn’t work and so, your shoulders sag in defeat.

“I’m ready to go home.”

And this time, Natasha doesn’t reply back. She doesn’t snap back with a comment, she doesn’t try to talk back to you with a tone that makes you want to step away.

Instead, she leads the way out of the store, then through the crowded floors of the mall, and then into the parking where a valet driver returns her car. You sit where you’ve always have, next to her, but as the silence settles in her Corvette, you realize how much the argument has affected her.

She even goes to grip the steering wheel with a hold that makes her knuckles white and she huffs. As she stares right ahead of her, through the glass and the line painted onto the concrete floor of the parking garage, she’s the first to break the silence.

“You’re right.” You blink up at her when she says the words and the anger you held for the older woman shatters with a crack. “I suppose I’m afraid of her hurting you the way other have done it. I just want you to be happy and I just want your life to be filled with people who do make you happy. Even if it means rejecting those who fit into mine.”

She goes on. “You’re right that it’s not wrong to care about people but I just want you to be careful about how you care for them. I’ve met the other end of the witch, darling, she’s just not all about the words she speaks. If she wanted, and that’s a big if, she could make you disappear.”

You swallow to speak but apparently, she had more to say. “Wanda... I never loved her. At least not in the way she wanted me to. We both craved something that we couldn’t fully give, I needed a distraction, she gave it, but she expected more and I didn’t. It’s hard enough loving someone who’s twenty years your junior and everyone is chastising you for it but doing it with a failed one night stand who seems to have fallen for you? I’d take you anywhere just to have peace with you.”

When the silence settled back in and she finishes, you reach for the love of your life’s hand with a touch so gentle, she would’ve never even felt it if you hadn’t slipped your fingers through hers.

“Wanda is someone we can’t force out of our lives.” Natasha knows that and you too. “But I want to keep loving you without fear or judgment of others. And if apologizing and catering to her will do that, I’d gladly take the opportunity.”

When Natasha turns her head and faces you, a pink shade to her cheeks, a frown blossoms on your lips.

“I never meant to chastise you for caring about people. I think it’s great that you do, but I worry and I just want you to live your life to the fullest. Wanda has no part in our relationship and I don’t think she should, regardless of what she used to mean to me.”

“I know. I know.” Your response to her apology is one that’s genuine. And as Natasha starts the car and backs out of the parking garage, you hold her hand and squeeze it. You turn to her with gentle eyes and an aching heart.

For a moment, she takes her eyes off the road, it’s empty anyways, Natasha has a sense of a bird, of an assassin. She’s always on guard. And for a second between that moment, her eyes shine with glimmer.

“I love you.”

Her hand squeezes yours, and the air runs through the locks of your hair as the windows come down. Your gaze never leaves your lover and you know, even now and even through the argument, you love her, no doubts, no hesitation, even through the worst of it all.

“And I’m sorry.”

You shake your head at your lover’s words. Despite it all, you know she means well, she means her words and her actions with all the love she has for you.

She’s willing to drop everything for a life of happiness with you and your heart aches at the thought of her selfishness, her willingness to just be with you.

You smile at Natasha when the car stops at a light, your features soft while she replicates your own.

“I know.”

There hasn’t been any certainty for a while in your life but as you look at the redhead, you know you’ll be alright.


Tags
3 years ago

If meant to be evil and mean... why be hot and give me back scratches and call me baby?🤨 I LOVE THIS NEW CHAPTER BTW INCREDIBLE, SHOWSTOPPING

the domestic realm

pairing: dark!nat/f!reader

summary:

“I’m hungry,” you mumble. “Go make me a sandwich.”

She scoffs, slipping her hand under your hoodie to scratch at your back. “You just set women back by, like, five decades.”

additional notes: sfw drabble, kidnapping, dark!nat but shes soft and lazy, stockholm syndrome central, dark domestic fluff redux

series: one, two, three, ao3

Keep reading


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3 years ago

Can I request a Natasha x Avenger!Fem reader where Natasha has gotten into a habit of sleeping over at reader’s room 4 times a week and one night, she has a nightmare and reader is there to comfort her and then feelings are declared because they both like like each other and reader would say as she holds Natasha in her arms, “You are never sleeping by yourself again so long as I’m here…”

What Dreams Are Made Of

image

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

warnings: nightmares, death

summary: You comfort Natasha after a nightmare because even the toughest people need solace

word count: 3.7k

a/n: thank you anon for requesting this! i really enjoyed writing this so i hope u like it too :) also huge shoutout to @didujustcallmedumb for giving me some ideas, encouraging me to write this, and also reading it over <3

There were many perks of having your room be closest to the kitchen. For starters, you always had easy access to a late night snack, and also, you were always first to try Wanda’s cooking whenever the delicious smell drifted through the air.

But it also meant that everyone walked past your room whenever they needed to go to the kitchen, whether it be for an early breakfast or for a simple glass of water. You didn’t think it’d be a problem, until you realized you did in fact live with a team full of superheroes who each did not have the most friendliest of pasts, meaning nightmares were a common occurrence.

You often heard footsteps pass your door in the middle of the night followed by the soothing sound of water flowing from the sink, though it was rarely loud enough to actually disturb your slumber.

Tonight was one of those nights. Light footsteps padded down the hallway, and you could fairly hear the squeak of a cabinet, the one that stored all the mugs if you had to take a guess. Of all the people in the compound, at least those currently not on a mission, you only knew one who drank their water out of a mug: Natasha.

Clicking on your light, you pulled back the covers, shivering slightly as the brisk cold air hit your bare legs. You slipped on a pair of Rudolph slippers, which Pietro had gifted you ironically for Hanukkah, and made your way into the kitchen.

Upon your entrance, Natasha looked up, setting her mug down on the counter, and offered you a tired smile. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No,” you lied easily, stifling a yawn as you moved to seat in the stool across from her. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Something like that,” she shrugged nonchalantly before sipping her drink.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Natasha stared at you, the inner turmoil clear in her eyes. “Not really, but thank you.”

“Of course” you smiled, as you slid off your seat to grab some water. Knowing the former assassin like you did, you had a feeling she probably wouldn’t be going to sleep again tonight, even if she retreated back to her room. As you filled your glass, an idea popped into your head.

“Do you wanna, um, maybe you wanna—,” you stuttered, a slight blush creeping up your neck. “Do you wanna sleep with me?”

As soon as the words escaped you, your eyes widened, and Natasha raised her eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you shook your head. “I just meant sleep in the same bed, actually sleep, because I know I always sleep better when I’m not alone, and I mean when I’m in the presence of someone else not that other thing. I’m just going to stop talking now.”

Natasha chuckled at your rambling. “(Y/N), I know what you mean.”

“Right,” you looked down bashfully.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to go back to sleep and I don’t wanna keep you up.”

“Don’t worry about it, Nat,” you internally rolled your eyes at her predictable response before putting on your best pout. “Please, for me?”

Unable to resist, your puppy eyes being one of her few weaknesses, Natasha playfully rolled her eyes. “Alright.”

You beamed as the two of you made your way back down the hall and into your room. As you entered, immediately heading back to bed, Natasha stopped to look around, and you realized this was the first time she’s seeing your room.

As if she could sense your nervousness, which she probably could, Natasha slowly walked towards you. “It’s nice,” she motioned to the space around her. “Very you.”

“Thanks?”

“It’s a compliment, (Y/N),” Natasha assured with a slight chuckle, as she pulled back the covers to slip into bed.

“Oh, sorry,” you felt your cheeks warm. “Thank you.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” she yawned, as you both laid down, sinking into the mattress.

“Don’t mention it, Nat,” you rolled over to turn the lamp off. “Get some sleep.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N/N),” Natasha mumbled, her eyes already closed.

“Goodnight,” you returned softly, briefly admiring the sleeping woman before letting slumber take you as well.

The next morning, you were slightly disappointed to wake up to a cold bed, though you couldn’t say you were necessarily surprised. You knew Nat was not one to share her feelings with others often, so you had a feeling that last night was going to be a one night thing.

Feeling the heat radiating from the floor, you leave your slippers behind and head into the kitchen, following the wafting scent of pancakes.

“Morning,” you greeted Sam, Wanda, Steve, and Clint, who were all eagerly awaiting the other woman’s homemade breakfast.

“Good morning, (Y/N/N),” she chirped, turning around from the stove, still holding the spatula.

“Hi Wands,” you smiled, pecking her cheek before reaching around her to grab a mug for some coffee. “Where’s Piet?”

The three of you were like three peas in a pod ever since the twins joined the team. You had been quick to forgive them after everything with Ultron, as you weren’t one to hold grudges.

“He had to leave for a mission with Tony and Nat earlier,” she explained, turning her attention back to the skillet.

“What? Why wasn’t I called?” you turned to Steve, confused as to why Natasha, your usual mission partner, was sent out but you weren’t.

“They needed Pietro’s speed, so I swapped you two and you’re going tomorrow,” the captain informed, before adding with a knowing smirk, “Besides, Natasha can handling herself.”

“I know,” you grumbled under your breath, still slightly irritated.

“Speaking of Nat,” Sam butted in, a devious glint in his eye, “I saw her leave your room this morning. Fun night last night?”

All heads whipped towards you, and Wanda turned around so fast that a half-cooked pancake went flying through the air.

“What?” you coughed, nearly choking on your coffee. “It’s not—we didn’t—nothing happened.”

“Like that’s believable,” Sam snorted, hiding a grin behind the rim of his cup, as the rest of the group chuckled under their breaths.

“I’m being serious, guys,” you insisted with a whine. “She just stayed over because I was having trouble sleeping.”

So you bent the truth slightly, but you didn’t want to say anything about Natasha that she didn’t want the team knowing about.

“Okay, we believe you, (Y/N/N),” Wanda winked at you, knowing your harbored feelings for the redhead. “We’ll drop it,” she raised her eyebrow at the guys, daring them to protest.

“Right,” Sam nodded, while Steve and Clint just shook their heads, amused by everybody’s antics.

“Now come on,” Wanda placed a plate full of pancakes in the middle of the island, “let’s eat.”

You spent the rest of the day doing the usual training and paperwork, and though it was no mission, you were completely exhausted by the time your body hit the mattress. Your body was sore after Steve and Wanda put you through the wringer during training, and while Natasha was your usual sparring partner, at least she didn’t have magical powers that could practically throw you across the room.

Picking up your book, you slump back into your pillows and pull up the blankets.

Almost fifteen minutes later, you hear a soft knock on your door. As you finish the page you’re on, you call out to the person behind the door, “Come in.”

“Hey,” Natasha’s raspy voice causes you to put your book down and look up.

“Hey, Nat,” you greet, as you pat the spot next to you, inviting her to join you. “How was the mission?”

“It was fine,” Nat responded succinctly, and you knew not to ask further. Despite your indirect invitation to join you, she made no movement to accept. “Um, do you think I could, uh, sleep here tonight? Again? With you?”

Softening, you took a second to relish this moment of vulnerability and to observe the other woman. Despite clearly being worn out from her mission, slight scratches and heavy fatigue decorating her features, she still had a radiance to her that awed you.

“Of course you can,” you scooted off to the right side of the bed and pulled down the blankets for her. “Get in.”

Natasha sent you an appreciative smile before sliding off her slippers and getting under the covers. Shutting your book, you put it on your bedside table and rolled not your side to look at her.

“You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”

Still on her back, Nat was staring at the ceiling, and if her eyes weren’t open, you’d think she’d fallen asleep already. “It was a tough one,” she huffed, shifting on her side so her face was inches from yours. “We were outnumbered right from the get go. And it should’ve been an easy get-in-get-out intel collection but our information must have been wrong.”

You knew there was something more that was bothering her because, usually, Natasha wasn’t fazed by unexpected surprises or missions going awry. But you patiently waited for her to continue, wanting her to open up to you on her own.

“They had kids there, (Y/N),” she revealed breathlessly. “Kids.”

You cringed, knowing all too well how difficult cases with captives were but even more so when they were children.

“You did your job, Nat,” you soothed reassuringly. “You got them out. You saved them.”

A moment of silence hung over your heads before she closed her eyes and turned onto her back, “I know.”

Watching the other woman, you couldn’t help but twist your lips, not knowing what to say to ease her worries. “Get some rest, Nat,” you switched the light off. “Tomorrow’s a new day.”

Your phone alarm woke you up the next morning, and you mentally cursed yourself for forgetting. Groggily, you opened your eyes and shut it off, checking the time.

5:00 am.

You glanced over your shoulder to see if Natasha had woken up, but the redhead only stirred slightly before falling back asleep.

Sighing, you quickly jotted down a note for her, telling her that you had to leave for a mission, before getting dressed and gathering your things to head down to the quinjet.

When Natasha awoke, three hours later, she frowned at the sight of your empty side of the bed. Before she could get too upset, she spotted a small piece of paper on your pillow.

Nat—

Had early an early mission. Sorry I forgot to tell you.

Hope we’re still down for training tomorrow?

See you later :)

—(Y/N)

Natasha’s lips twitched upwards, her heart swelling at your adorable smiley face. While the former assassin knew she had feelings for you, ones that went beyond teammates or even friendship, she didn’t want to get hurt. After everything with Bruce, the will-they-won’t-they back and forth, Natasha wasn’t ready to put herself out there again, no matter how much she wanted to.

You, Steve, Clint, and Sam returned later that evening, and you wanted nothing more than to take a steaming hot shower and collapse in your bed. But before you could do just that, Wanda stopped you in the kitchen.

“Where are you going?”

“To bed?” you furrowed your brows, unsure as to why your friend was depriving you of cleanliness and sleep.

“You haven’t eaten,” Wanda stated as if it was obvious, nodding to whatever, you had to admit, smelled delectable.

“But—,” you went to protest but the brunette was quick to interrupt.

“(Y/N),” she raised her brow and dangerously tilted her head, “you need to eat.”

“Fine,” you relented, sagging your shoulders in defeat. “At least let me shower first.”

Wanda nodded before calling after you, “You better be back out here in thirty or else I’m coming to get you.”

Nodding, you knew your best friend was not messing around. As you entered your room, you were already working on unzipping your suit and unstrapping your weapons. Though you were tired, you were still alert enough to sense someone else’s presence.

You snapped your head up, grabbing the knife still strapped to your thigh, only to see Natasha sitting against your headboard reading a book, her body covered by your blanket.

“Jeez, Nat,” you clutched your chest, “you scared me.”

“Sorry,” she smiled sheepishly.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, as you moved to peel of your mission attire.

“Well,” Natasha hesitated briefly, “I was wondering if I could sleep here again?”

Closing your dresser drawer, you turned around to face her, but before you could answer, she continued.

“You don’t have to say yes or anything. It’s just I find that I sleep better here that alone in my room, but I don’t wanna bother you or disrupt your space, so if—“

“Natasha,” you chuckled, interrupting her rambling, “of course you can sleep here.”

You saw her let out a small breath of relief, causing the corners of your mouth to curl upwards.

“I’m gonna take a shower and then go eat some dinner, if you want to join me,” you explained and pointed to the bathroom door, before your eyes widened. “I meant join me for dinner not in the shower. Wanda’s cooking and she’s making food and I’m sure she made plenty for everyone if you want to join? You don’t have to. I don’t know if you already ate but—“

“(Y/N/N), don’t worry. I knew what you meant,” this time, it was Natasha’s turn to interrupt you. “I ate earlier but thanks.”

Nodding awkwardly, you turned on your heels and headed into the bathroom. The streams of hot water did wonders for your aching muscles. Before you could get lost in your thoughts, you felt Wanda poking around in your head.

“You better hurry up, (Y/N),” she projected. “Your food is getting cold.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you muttered under your breath. Wanda rarely used her powers on you, and you knew that when she did, it was always out of good intent.

As you dried off, you realized you didn’t bring you pajamas into the bathroom with you. “Crap.”

Trying to sneak out into your room without Natasha noticing was an impossible mission, but one you desperately attempted. You slowly turned the handle and peeked through the door, making sure the redhead’s attention was still on her book. As you tiptoed out, hair still wet and in just your towel, Natasha looked up, her eyes widening and lips parting at the sight of your bare skin.

“Sorry,” you grimaced. “Forgot my clothes.”

When Natasha didn’t say anything, too stunned to speak, you gave her a tight smile before scurrying back into the bathroom. Once you were fully dressed, you came back out, still in the process of drying your hair with a towel.

“Sorry about that,” you apologized again.

“It’s not a problem,” Natasha smirked, having recovered from the initial shock.

“Right,” you let out a nervous chuckle. “Well, I’m just gonna go eat dinner now.”

You turned to leave before you could embarrass yourself any further. As you shut the door, you could faintly hear a small laugh from the other woman, causing you to shake your head amusedly.

By the time you finished dinner and dessert, which Tony had so graciously dropped off after his date with Pepper, it was already pretty late. So you were not surprised to see Natasha already asleep, curled up under the covers.

Careful not to wake her, you slowly got into bed. As your weight caused the mattress to dip, Natasha rolled over, immediately seeking out the warmth of your body. You tensed, as she unexpectedly nestled into your side, her head resting against your shoulder and her hand finding the exposed skin just beneath the hem of your pajama shirt.

As you moved your arm around her, bringing her closer to your body, you relaxed and subconsciously combed your fingers through her red locks.

Turning your head slightly, you took a moment to admire the sleeping woman. For someone who’s front was so stoic and hard, Natasha’s features were inherently soft: the natural plumpness of her lips, the way her eyelashes curled on their own.

Looking at her now, you felt as you truly saw Natasha, completely stripped of her Black Widow facade.

“You’ll never have to sleep alone as long as I’m here,” you whispered. “Sweet dreams, Nat.”

You pressed a quick kiss to the crown of her head before letting your head hit the pillow. As you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, you missed the small sleepy smile forming across Natasha’s lips.

A couple of days later, you found yourself on a mission that required all hands on deck, meaning the entire Avengers teams was out in the field plus Fury and Hill over the comms. Though difficult, the firing HYDRA soldiers were nothing you or anybody else couldn’t handle. Everything was going pretty smoothly.

Until it wasn’t.

As you and Natasha were running back to the jet, a stray HYDRA soldier fired twice, once in your thigh and once in your back. Immediately, you fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

“(Y/N)!” Natasha screamed before spotting the man who shot you and aiming her gun at him. You knew he was dead; Nat never missed. Rushing over to you, she kneeled by your side, frantically trying to find your wounds amidst all the dirt and blood that covered you.

As she pressed hard onto your abdomen, you grunted in discomfort.

“I know,” Natasha soothed with a sniffle, desperately trying not to cry, but you could see the tears clouding her green orbs. “I know it hurts, but you’re gonna be alright. You’re gonna be okay.”

Feeling yourself weakening, you put your hand on top of hers. “Nat,” you sighed, and she met your eyes, “we both know that’s not true.”

“No,” she shook her head desperately, “you’re gonna be fine.”

“Natasha,” you said as firm as you could muster, “I need you to know…”

As you trailed off, Steve’s voice came over the intercoms.

“Romanoff, (Y/L/N),” the captain yelled, “there’s a bomb set to destroy the base. Get back to the jet. Now!”

“I’m not leaving her,” Natasha cried.

“Natasha,” you gasped, “you have to go.”

Shaking her head again, she cradled your face, not caring about the blood that stained her hands. “No, I’m not leaving you,” she said with fierce determination, a trait you always admired of hers, though dare you call it stupid stubbornness at times.

“Please,” you coughed, blood dripping out of the corner of your mouth, “for me.”

Your last words came out so weak that if Natasha wasn’t inches from your face she wouldn’t have heard them. As she realized that your breathing had stopped, a sob escaped her lips.

“I love you,” Natasha whispered, resting her forehead against yours, briefly forgetting the fact that she was in the middle of a battlefield. “I’m sorry I never told you.”

“Natasha!” Steve yelled in her earpiece. When she didn’t respond, too stuck in her grief, he called again, “Natasha!”

This time, she got to her feet, as she wiped her nose. Running as fast as her feet could take her, knowing she had little time before the bomb was going to go off, Natasha couldn’t stop the tears from blurring her vision. As she saw the figure of the jet in the distance, the bomb exploded, her ears ringing as she went flying.

Faintly, she could hear her name being called from her team. “Natasha!”

“Natasha!”

“Natasha!”

Natasha’s eyes flew open, almost expecting herself to be in the med bay, but was startled to see your concerned expression hovering over her.

“Hey,” you offered her a worried smile, your hands still resting on her shoulders. “You were having a nightmare, a pretty bad one by the looks of it. Are you alr–“

Before you could finish, Natasha leaped forward, wrapping her arms around you. “Oh my god,” she sighed, relief evident in her voice. “You’re alive.”

Pulling back from her, you tilted your head. “Of course I am, Nat.”

“But I saw you,” Natasha shook her head, unable to stop the break in her voice. “I saw you die right in front of me.”

“Oh, baby,” the pet name slipping out naturally, as you pulled her back into your body, cradling her head soothingly. “I’m right here. You hear that?” You asked, knowing her ear was right over your heart.

“I’m still alive.”

Moving to sit upright, Natasha sniffled and wiped her face. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you softly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. As your finger tips lightly brushed her cheek, Nat lifted her head to meet your eyes.

“(Y/N),” she whispered, thinking this was as good a time as any.

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” Natasha revealed, causing you to bite back a smile that was threatening to take over your face. “I think I have been since the first day I met you. And I realized that life is too short to be holding myself back from what I want, especially in our line of work.”

As she searched your face for any response, you grinned, eyes shining with adoration and relief. Surging forward, you cupped her cheeks and brought her in for a tender kiss.

Natasha immediately reciprocated, and your lips melted together beautifully. Before you could get lost in the taste of her, air became a necessity and you both separated, breathing heavily.

Leaning her forehead against yours, Natasha gently wiped a stray tear that had fallen down your cheek. “Why are you crying, detka?”

“I’m just so happy,” you giggled and nuzzled your nose against hers.

“Me too,” she beamed, smiling against your lips, kissing you once more.

As the two of you fell asleep that night, your limbs tangled together, you thought to yourself,

This is what dreams are made of.

———

taglist: @when-wolves-howl @xxxtwilightaxelxxx


Tags
3 years ago

Shame

Shame

Warnings: mommy kink, size kink, smut, swearing etc

Natasha loves the fact that you’re smaller than her, she absolutely revels in it but, of course, she’d never tell you that... The redhead has always been the smallest of the avengers so when you came around she would always tease you about your height (even though you were only a few inches shorter than her).

It was always “hey tiny” or “how’s the weather down there?” with Natasha. You assumed she taunted you about your height because she genuinely didn't like it. She probably thought it was childish to be a full grown adult and 5’2. And at first you didn’t say anything, not wanting to anger the intimidating woman, but after a while you two became quite close and you started to fire your own taunts, “well you would know considering we’re the same height, Tasha.”

Those words stunned the assassin; she didn’t expect the nickname so her cheeks flushed a deep red, which you picked up on. Not long after that, you started dating. Obviously, you confessed your feelings for the woman first- you knew if it was up to her, she would never come clean- and she returned those same feelings.

As the relationship progressed and you started to learn about her characteristics, you made the assumption that your girlfriend had a somewhat kinky side. With the way she carried herself around the others, she definitely had a dominant personality in the bedroom...which you was most certainly correct about!

You had discovered a whole different side to Tasha that only you knew about. You felt privilege and yet confused; you felt as if there was a whole new depth to her character you haven’t seen until now...

Here you were, ankles and wrists wrapped in red silk attached to each bedposts. If it wasn’t clear, Nat liked you tied down; completely and utterly helpless to her touch.

Lewd noises of the redhead’s strap thrusting into you at an inhuman pace-accompanied with your whorish moans- filled the almost silent room. Tasha’s sex playlist playing from the sound system with her red led lights on display. The occasional grunt from the woman above you joined in whenever her clit brushed at the right angle against the strap.

“Fuck, baby. Your tight pussy is gonna make me cum. Such a sweet pussy. All for me.” Natasha loved sex talk; always reminding you about how good you look, feel and taste. She was always calling you cute little nicknames as she brings you to climax, and even when she allowed you to return the favour.

On the other hand, she adored degrading you. She adored making you cry at her venomous words as she fucked you stupid. But, she only reserved those titles for when you were a bad girl and needed to be punished...

“Oh. Shit, Tasha. I-I’m gonna cum.” Your first orgasm almost washes over you; however, she had different ideas and pulled out before you could slip. Snaking a hand around your throat she applies little pressure, letting you know she was pissed.

“What did you call me?!” She seethes through her teeth. Sheer fury with a tinge of lust swirling in her eyes as she pins you beneath her weight like a predator with its prey.

You don’t know what you did wrong.

You always moaned her name as you came.

You thought that was what she liked...

Countless thoughts raced through your mind about what you had allegedly done wrong and Natasha had seen, so she relieved you of your mounting stress.

“When we’re in here doing this...” She harshly snaps her hips, driving the head of the toy up against your sensitive walls. You throw your head back in euphoria, unintentionally letting a carnal growl escape from within.

“It’s mommy, little one.”

Mommy...that’s new. You whisper to no one, anxious she might overhear you. Fear brews in the pit of your stomach, but excitement overpowers it, and a wide grin forms on your face. This is what you’ve been waiting for.

“I’m sorry... mommy.”

Your girlfriend groans audibly at the way you whine her new name. She couldn't stop herself from thrusting back into you, slowly at first but gradually picking up the pace. She couldn’t rip her eyes from you; the way your tits bounced in time to her thrusts, your gaping mouth as threads of incoherent words and moans tumbled, your shuddering muscles that rippled beneath her finger pads.

The hand pinning your thighs apart moves to grip your jaw. She pushes her thumb in your mouth, waiting to see how you react. But you know what she wants. So you suck the digit, swirling your pink tongue around it, lathering it with your saliva as a light “hmm” vibrates against the pad. Natasha’s light green irises turn into a dark emerald shade, raging lust even more evident.

“Open.”

She spits in your mouth, no need to instruct you what to do next since you've already swallowed, your eyes rolled far back in your head.

“Look at your pretty little pussy. So pink and fluffy...hmm, take me so good, baby.”

“Only for y-you, mommy.” You whine out with her thumb still deep in your mouth, on the brink impending orgasm. Unfortunately, Natty pulls her entire body away from you once again and this time you can’t help but let out a loud whine of frustration.

“Hey! Don’t start that shit with me, little girl.” Your head jerked to the side, and your cheek burned from the connection of Tasha's palm, as well as the fresh tears - mixed with your running mascara - streaming from your eyelids. Her poisonous words stinged even more so than the slap. It seems as if you’ve discovered another one of her kinks...

“For that, you’re gonna ride my cock...like a good, little slut.” She trails her fingers over your reddened cheek before releasing you from her silky restraints and situating herself against the pillows, so she can yank you onto her lap.

Still stunned from the slap, you failed to notice her aligning your core with the strap until she pushed you down, stretching your tight walls once again. You cry out - the loudest you had done this whole night- which spurs on the redhead to rock your hips agonisingly slow.

“Oh no, pretty girl...you’re so tight. You’re too little for me, huh? So small and precious... let mommy help you.” She moves to rub fast circles on your swollen clit. Involuntarily, you rut up to meet Tasha’s fingers, wedging the strap even deeper.

Ahh so she does like my size...she likes it a lot more than she lets on. You wonder to yourself. You wouldn’t dare say your thoughts aloud unless you wanted the assassin to spank your ass black and blue, and still not let you cum. The addicting pleasure of her cock inside you, her digits circling harder on your bundle of nerves and her powerful hips rolling into yours knock you out of your deep trance.

“That’s it, printessa. So beautiful. Riding me like this. So eager...fuck, I could cum just by watching you.” Her praises spur you on and you start to bounce, holding her shoulders for support, suddenly desperate to make yourself and mommy cum. Her eyes remained glued to your marked breasts, shoved in her face as they move rhythmically. She removes her fingers from your bundle of nerves and brings the drenched digits to her lips, checks hallowing as she sucks them feverishly.

“You taste so sweet, baby.” She moans gently at the taste of you. Peering up at you,she silently commands you to keep your eyes trained on hers. No matter though because if she kept looking at you like that, you weren’t gonna last long...

“Mommy, ’m gonna cum.” Your bounces become more out of rhythm with her thrusts: tits grazing against her face, moans and whimpers echo the bedroom walls and your pussy gushes around her thick cock.

“Beg me.”

“Please, mommy...oh, let me cum for you. I’ll do anything please, can I cum? I’ll be good, promise, please please...” You weep out, praying she’ll have mercy on your soul and finally let you finish. She remains silent for a few moments, compelling you to hold on a little longer before she decides. She grabs your hips instantly, forcing you to bottom out as she fucks up into you harder than ever.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum for mommy.” She pants out- a little tired from her rapid thrusts- and you immediately clamp on her, back painfully arching, making it difficult for her to continue her ministrations.

You can hardly even moan since you're struggling to breathe, and yet she pulls you down to kiss you as if she's stealing whatever little air you have. Pulling slightly back, you attempt to take some deep breaths before letting out a string of promiscuous wails as she soothes your convulsing body.

“You’re all good,baby. That’s it, good girl.”

She coos as you finally crash, collapsing forward into Tasha’s chest, hissing at the strap moving still deep inside. She tilts your heavy head up, forcing you to look into her eyes. The flicker of green descends from your eyes to your lips which lets you know that she wants you to kiss her. Tiredly, you lean forward, pressing your lips against hers. You don't slip a tongue. You merely push your lips against hers.

She doesn’t like that and roughly spanks your ass twice, your body jolting forward in painful surprise. If you were going to kiss Tasha, you had to kiss her properly...

To be honest, you loved this rough side of Natasha. During the early stages of the relationship, she was timid and entirely selfless. Not sure how far she should go or if you loved her as much as she loved you. But she was ravenous now, using your body for her pleasure- and yours.

You lean forward again, this time parting your lips allowing the redhead to slip her tongue into your mouth. Her hands- still on your ass- massage the red globes. She drives her tongue deep; as assertive as she wishes because you belong to her. Only her. Releasing your muffled moans into her mouth allowing her to swallow them whole, your palms cup her breasts as you gently pull them towards you and then back to her; playing with them as a sort of comfort instead of pleasing her.

The kiss becomes more sloppy, more messy as both of your saliva moistens the kiss and dribbles out the side of your mouth. At one point, your tongue slips from hers and splashes against her cheek but she’s too engrossed in the make out session to care; your enamouring whimpers depriving her of her senses.

Her hands at your ass- squeeze it softly- beginning to make you rock against her; completely forgetting about her cock still inside you. You shriek at the stinging ache and Nat silences you with another long kiss before slowly lifting you off her, and tossing the toy somewhere for her to clean later.

“Sorry, honey. I forgot.”

Her hand brushes the sweat-drenched hair away from your forehead and she leans over your frail form, pressed delicately against the sheets, to grab you the bottle of water she got beforehand.

“Here, drink this before you go to sleep please.”

You gulp down the water as if you had been neglected of the clear liquid for a long period of time. Small drops end up dribbling from the corner of your lips and down your chin. Nat notices, leaning down to lick away the residue, a subtle whimper escapes your throat and you suddenly remember she never came.

“But, y-you didn’t finish, Tash.” You pant, voice still hoarse from your cries of ecstasy.

“It’s okay, baby. Today was all about you anyways.”

Still selfless, I see. You wanted to reply but you were too exhausted to open your mouth. Your fatigue suddenly washing over you as your eyelids droop, too heavy to keep open.

“Go to sleep, kotenok. Promise I’ll be here when you wake. I love you.” She kisses you once on the cheek, then twice on the forehead ...your favourite types of kisses. Bathing in her radiating warmth, you shuffle fowards, limbs locking around her waist, your naked flesh flushed against each other.

“Thank you. Love you too, mommy.”

As expected, Tasha was peering down at your dishevelled form the next morning: hair thrown everywhere and puffy eyelids. To her, you looked beautiful.

“Good morni-”

“So mommy, huh?”

The Russian was taken aback by your unexpected question. Of course, she forgot about how she made you call her mommy the previous night. She didn't even bother asking if you were okay with it. She simply told you, and that was the end of it. When your words finally register in her brain, a dark red blush - almost the same color as her tresses - appears on her chiselled cheeks.

“Don’t kink shame me!” She leaps on top of you, blowing wet raspberries onto your exposed stomach. Your contagious giggles ring sweetly in her ears, and your limbs flail incessantly, attempting to push the much stronger woman away. Once she finally lets go, she returns her attention to your face, only to find you grinning up at her with pure adoration in your eyes.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that... mommy.”

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

Notes: i keep getting carried away with these but here’s this. i worked on this like all day so hopefully y’all like it <3

Taglist: @teenwonder @wandasugarbby (bc i used one of those prompts you talked abt but it’s nat sorry sjshsjd)


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seera-li - Seera-li
Seera-li

Sera they/them |adult| I apparently write smut now so a reminder that your media consumption is your own responsibility :)

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