Seera-li - Seera-li

"Thunderstorms and Fingers"

Word count 1644

Fluff and smut. Wandanat X FEM Reader.

A/N: A one shot that will more than likely have a 2nd part. Still undecided.

NSFW 18+ FFF 3some, praise kink, fingering, magic manipulation (in a good way) talks of breeding(kink)

It's a cold rainy day. Your favorite. You sit on plush oversized couch in the living room, the fireplace setting off a plethora of oranges, yellows and reds against the simple cream colored walls. The crackling of the wood setting your mind at ease, you take another sip of your hot cocoa, enjoying the way it soothes your throat, the mini marshmallows an added bonus. Everything feels right. The loud boom of the thunder startles you out of your daydreaming. You finish off your hot cocoa and lean back onto the couch, curling up into a ball with a cozy, queen sized fleece blanket draped over your body as you yawn. Your eyes slowly closing, the sounds of the rain pelting against the window pulling you to sleep against your will. Your eyes slowly closing, you open them quickly, you have to stay awake, but the rain and the comfort of the fire and blanket, the way your body fits perfectly into the couch cushions is too much for your senses and soon you're lulled off to sleep.

You don't hear the front door open, you don't hear quiet whispers, you don't feel the couch dip next to you on either side. But you do feel the lips on your forehead, nose, both cheeks then your lips, you feel the second set of lips on the junction between your neck and shoulder kissing just as tenderly as the first set. They're delicate with the placement of their kisses, coaxing you from your slumber and smile forming on your sleep ridden face, your eyes remain close as you hum at the affection you're receiving. You let out a small gasp as you feel a light touch of cold yet warm fingers trail up your plush thighs and under the oversized Tshirt you chose to wear. You let out a small whimper when those same fingers delicately trace the band of your panties. The second set of hands skimming their way up your soft stomach, pausing then squeezing your hips lighty, the contrast of their cold fingers and your heated skin feels delicious. Those same hands moving their way to your full breast and slowly tracing around your nipples now hardened from the cold fingers and squeezing of the buds. You bite your lip to stifle a moan that's begging to be released from the attention your body is receiving.

"don't bite your lip my sweet girl" Wanda says as she leans her forehead against yours, whispering against your lips, her warm breath fanning your face "I want to hear all the pretty noises you make". You slowly release your bottom lip from between your teeth before she kisses you tenderly and swallows a moan that's ripped from your lips as the first set of hands slips beneath the waist band of your soaked panties "fuck" you lowly whimper when your lips disconnect from hers.

"you're so wet detka" Natasha whispers into your ear, hot breath fanning your neck as her fingers connect with your core, the arousal coating her fingers as they slip between your folds, she places a kiss to the sweet spot just below your ear "is all this for me? For Wanda?" she moans as she dips a solitaire finger into your core. You both moan out at the feeling of her slender finger entering you slowly and to the knuckle. Wanda let's out a breathy chuckle "fuck Nat, you feel fuck" your eyes shoot open and you see your girlfriend's eyes red. Fuck. She's feeling what you're feeling, she's tapping into your body. You pull her into a hungry kiss as Natasha slowly pumps into you before adding another finger. You and Wanda both groaning at the feeling of being just a tad bit fuller.

"that's it" Natasha coos at the both of you "that's my good girls" she bites on your shoulder lightly, her teeth skimming before she leaves her mark on your skin. Wanda's hand pulling on your hardened nipple, soft whimpers pouring out of your mouth. Natasha let's out a breathy moan as you do "don't stop Wanda". Fuck. Natasha is connected to you too. Your mind starts reeling at the thought of both of your girlfriend's feeling what you're feeling. Natasha pumps into you a little faster and you start to move your hips along with her thrust. All three of you panting against each other's skin. Your hand on Natasha's wrist to keep her close and help her bury her fingers deeper into your soaked core while your other hand pulls on Wandas hair ripping a moan from the younger red head.

"a-another" you manage to moan out and as requested Natasha adds a third finger and the feeling of being stretched and filled by your girlfriend's fingers has your mind hazy, along with her deep, hard thrust that reach that spot that only her and Wanda can. It sends your body into a frenzy. Arousal coating her fingers and your thighs as your mind and body reel from the pleasure and thought of your girlfriend's receiving the same treatment. "S-so good sweet girl" Wanda stutters out "taking Tashas fingers so g-good" and you whimper at the praise. Wanda's fingers leave your nipples and you release a whimper before her fingers find your swollen clit and begin to rub tight,hard circles around the throbbing bundle of nerves, ripping earth shattering moans from all three of your mouths.

"FUCK WANDS" Natasha grunts out "D-dont stop" she pleads. And the sounds of your girlfriend's moans and Nats pleads, the sound of your core being filled by your girlfriend's fingers sends you right to the precipice of a sweet release "please" you beg breathlessly "c-can I cu-FUCK" their paces pick up at your words "hold on a little longer" Wanda moans out "a-almost there sweet girl" she whimpers as she rubs faster against your clit which in turn sends the same dizzying feeling to her and Natashas brains and bodies. Their cores on fire from the pleasure they're exacting on you. Both dripping, their panties ruined. "You're so tight detka" Nat groans in your ear "fuck I love filling you up" she bites your ear lobe and you moan out at her words "next time" she says breathlessly "we're going to fill you up with our cocks" and both you and Wanda moan loud at her words "put a baby in you" Wanda groans against your lips "Fuck" you whimper against her "I'm c-close" your eyes squeezed shut tightly "cum" is all you hear before your orgasm washes over you, drenching Natasha and Wandas fingers as they both continue their ministrations against your pussy, arousal hitting you again as your hear them both climax and whimper out as their orgasms wash over them.

You all pant from the earth shattering orgasms you've just experienced. Both pulling away from you, leaving you empty and a small whine to leave your lips before you finally reopen your eyes and see Nat offer her fingers to Wanda. You lock eyes with Wanda as she sucks Nats fingers, your cum coating her tongue and groaning at the sight before she pulls Natasha in for a heated kiss. They both moan at the taste of you on their tongues and you swear you've died and gone to heaven right then and there.

You turn to Wanda giving her a chaste kiss before turning your head to do the same to your other red head. All the while both of your hands trail down their bodies before dipping below the waistband of their pants then panties. Both of their breaths hitch in the back of their throats as you internally smirk to yourself. "W-what are you doing detka" Natasha ask with a slight quiver to her voice, Wanda shuts her eyes tight and bites her lip letting a small whimper pass. You turn your head and ghost your lips over Natasha's speaking just loud enough for Wanda to hear your next words as well "getting what im-" your fingers slip between their folds feeling how soaked they are, you let out a groan at the feeling, arousal once again seeping from your core. Your fingers dip into their drenched pussy's with ease, pushing your fingers to the knuckle before pulling them back out and slipping them out from their panties and pants, your fingers glistening from their slick "owed" you breath out to Natasha as you put both fingers from both hands into your awaiting mouth and moaning obscenely at the taste of them. "Fuck" they both groan out at the sight.

"You're naughty" Natasha laughs out and kisses your forehead before you turn towards Wanda and bury your face in the crook of her neck before simply saying "I know". They both chuckle at your bluntness, Nat burys her face between your shoulder blades, kissing the cloth covered skin. You sigh contently as Wanda kisses the top of your head and Nat kisses the back of your neck, both of their arms and legs tangled with you and each others. You go-to close your eyes when you feel Natasha slip her fingers around the waistband of your panties and you lift your head from Wanda's neck. "You didn't think we were done yet, did you?" Wanda ask with a tilt of her head, accent thick on her tongue. "We're just getting started detka" Natasha chuckles against the back of your neck as she slowly pulls your panties down, kissing your neck before she whispers "we promised to put a baby in you" Natasha growls out as you release a moan at her words and see Wanda's eyes glow red "and we don't plan on stopping til you're filled with our cum sweet girl" Wanda husk out before pulling you into a hungry kiss.

CAPTAIN MARVEL (2019) + Letterboxd, as requested by anonymous (insp.)

Bestie! I can’t stop thinking about beefy!nat manhandling us with her big arms! 😮‍💨😮‍💨

You did not wait around to send this ily

Warnings: jealous and possessive!Nat (yes that should have its own warning), degrading, oral on strap on, gagging, lots of manhandling, strap on sex and spitting

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee? ☕️

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You huffed as your back collided with the solid wall and your arms were pinned above your head by your wrists. Natasha's grip tightened when you squirmed and her muscular thigh slotted itself between your legs with ease.

"You thought that was funny? Flirting with Bucky like that?" She hissed against your ear before biting down on your lobe threateningly.

"It was harmless." You breathed out weakly as you struggled to fight off the urge to start rocking yourself against your girlfriend's thigh.

"You think being a little whore is harmless?" You whimpered when her thigh pushed itself further and you could feel the bulge of her strap through her trousers. When you didn't respond, Natasha chuckled darkly.

"Oh my dumb baby, let me show you how wrong you are." She forced you to your knees before you could respond and pulled her strap free from its confines at a leisurely pace, testing to see your patience that night. So far, it had proved bad as evident by you flirting with Bucky after not getting enough attention from the widow at a party you didn't even want to be at. Now you were finally home the tables had turned.

"Open." Was all the redhead had to instruct. You opened your mouth and licked along the head of the strap before sucking on it gently. Natasha gripped ahold of the back of your head, unsatisfied with your teasing pace and pushed you forwards quicker than you were prepared for. You choked as the silicone hit the back of your throat unexpectedly and struggled to adjust as your girlfriend didn't let up in holding you there.

You breathed heavily around her strap and tried to look up at her with pleading eyes through the welling tears, but she had no sympathy for you that night. Once she was satisfied, Natasha hauled you to your feet and pushed you down onto the bed and took off her jeans without a word. You stared back silently and spread your legs in hopes that it would please your girlfriend.

She smirked in response and you hoped that was a good sign until she gripped them and pushed them further apart. "Don't look at me so innocently now, love. We both know you're anything but." She chuckled as she eased the head of the strap into your pussy and watched your innocent facade fade as your head dropped back in pleasure.

You gasped when the redhead thrust forwards and gripped your jaw in her strong hand so your opened your mouth once more for her only to spit onto your tongue. You moaned and clenched around the strap but awaited her permission to swallow despite how hard it was to resist.

"Such a dirty little thing. Swallow." The moment you did she started thrusting her strap harder and gripped your wrists tightly as she drove herself further. "I'm sure it doesn't seem so harmless now."

𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 || 𝐧. 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐟

a/n: because @twilight-99-tm and I couldn't get needy top beefy!Natasha out of our heads.. really that's all, hope y'all like porn! Technically a part of my Kinktober, but it's not a request, I just wanted to write this really badly

warnings: 18+, minors DNI; smut; strap-on sex {r receiving}; sex from behind; kinda restraint just because Nat is really strong, but all consensual obviously; denial/teasing {Nat receiving}; dirty talk {mutual}; a little overstim at the end if you squint; pet names {Natasha calls R baby}

summary: When Natasha comes back one night, she needs to alleviate an ache which just so happens to manifest itself in the form of making sure you're taken care of

words: 1.1K

kinktober event. || kinktober masterlist. || main masterlist.

“Please?”

Her words were so soft, way too whiny to be considered anywhere domineering. But her arms.. they kept you pinned in place, cheek pressed tight into the pillows below as your girlfriend practically rut against your backside. “I don’t know.. why should I?”

It was a cruel game you were playing, knowing she’d never do anything you said no to— but currently you were only saying no to torture Natasha. The thick length of her strap dragged back and forth between your folds, legs kept spread by the redhead’s strong thighs. “I know you want it as badly as I do… don’t be stubborn, malyshka.” Two groans rang in unison as the tip of her piece nudged against your clit, the devious part of the toy buried inside Natasha hitting a surprisingly sensitive spot. “I’ll fuck you until you’re begging me to stop. It’ll be so good, I promise, just— please.”

You hated denying her, especially when she was begging so sweetly in your ear, offering anything your heart desired if you’d just let her have this one thing, “But Natty…” Sleep was so close to claiming you when she’d come in, stealthily as ever. It was a mistake to think Natasha had come to bed so early just to cuddle with you, but you’d settled in her embrace easily, breathing in her sweet scent. When her slightly calloused hands began roaming your body, tugging at your flimsy sleep shorts, you knew you were done for. Something about your girlfriend coming to you so needy, so insistent that she couldn’t wait, drenched you in an instant and when you felt the telltale bulge of her favorite strap on press against the curve of your ass, it took everything in you not to cum on the spot. You’d managed though and theorized that you couldn’t not take advantage of her neediness.

So rarely was she in the mood to show you outwardly how much she yearned for you and so often, you gave in right away, letting her escape the need to beg. Not this time. “I know, I know you’re tired, but you don’t have to do anything. Just let me take care of you?” Ultimately, it was the fact that, amorous as she was, Natasha still only wanted to make you feel good that broke you. You’d never hear it aloud, but watching you come undone as many times as you could for her, crying out until your voice was hoarse and your only thoughts were her and how perfectly she was fucking you— that was better than chasing her own high.

The knowledge that you needed her as much as she needed you fueled her very soul, you knew it did. Every time Natasha’s pupils dilated just a tad bit wider when you asked for her and only her, when you sought her out amongst a crowd of people, when you were the one pleading for her to alleviate the ache between your legs; she adored tending to any need you brought to her. “Go on, fuck me. Fill me up how only you can.”

Exactly what she wanted to hear, Natasha pulled back just enough to align your bodies, one hand gripping your hip hard as if she was scared you’d twist away and deny her again. She sank in with little problem, your body accommodating the stretch and welcoming sting easily, “So ready for me and I hadn’t even touched you… did you get off on making me ask you to open up for me?” Her movements were slow and steady, drawing out each push and pull so you could truly feel every inch of her.

Natasha only let you move a little, just enough for her to know you wanted more, but not enough freedom to take what you needed. Needy as she was, Natasha was in control; she determined what you needed when. “Natasha… harder, go harder,” Like clockwork, her hips sped up, driving you almost painfully into the mattress.

“Like that, baby? You want me to fuck me so hard you’re walking crooked for the rest of the week?” You nodded, teeth biting down on your poor pillow as your fist balled the edge of your girlfriend’s shirt in a death grip. A rough hand met the swell of your ass with a sharp slap that left you crying out; Natasha wanted to hear you. “Words. Use them.”

When her words got clipped, it only meant one thing: she was close. “Fuck— fuck me, hard as you can.. ruin me.” Natasha’s pace quickened with your admission, frantic as she neared the onset of what she’d been waiting so long for. Holding back wasn’t an option for either of you, unabashed in using each other for your own pleasure. “Like that.. please, Natasha..!”

“You’re taking me so well, so deep,” Self-indulgent as she was tonight, Natasha knew if she wanted you to come with her, she needed that final push. “Does your needy little clit need some attention?” The only answer you could manage was a weak ‘yes,’ mindlessly trying to gain any friction, but Natasha still held you in place for her perfect angle. Sometimes you resented the fact that the woman never skipped an arm day.

She sacrificed one hand to find yours, guiding them down to where you were obviously dripping under her brutal fucking. Her fingers covered yours as they finally met your sensitive bud, circling and pinching perfectly in time with the silicone toy stretching you open. “N-Nat, I’m gonna.. can I cum? I need it so bad.”

Natasha practically growled, sinking her teeth into your shoulder as she desperately fought off her orgasm before you got yours. “Cum for me, do it now. Be a good girl and cum around my cock.” You came with an echoing cry, your fingers soaked with your own wetness as Natasha gave one final thrust, grinding your hips together until her walls were clenching around the bit inside her. She shuddered heavily, her body falling onto yours as you both came down from your highs.

You fell boneless onto the bed and the redhead followed suit, her front melding against your sweat-sheened back with ease. If you were tired before, you were exhausted now, the force of your activities threatening to drag you into unconsciousness. “Sleepy..”

Your girlfriend only hummed, peppering kisses along the back of your neck, over your shoulder blades, “You did so well for me, baby, I love you.” Her hands smoothed over your arms and hips; the massage should’ve been simple enough, but then the touches turned more suggestive again and stupidly, you tried wiggling away. Of course you didn’t budge and, tired as you were, when Natasha’s fingertips found your weeping entrance again, you pushed into her touch. “Think you can give me one more? I just missed you so much.”

Your head was nodding instantly, whimpering when you felt two fingers enter you to the hilt. The answer was always yes when it was Natasha. “Let me watch you cum again, just want to see you… that’s a good girl.”

𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

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𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍!𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚊 𝚡 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

summary ➞ just after you began your political career, natasha romanoff attempted to assassinate you under the orders of the red room. so, naturally, you hired her as your bodyguard. now, in the midst of running for president, there’s been a shift in the nature of your relationship. word count : 4.2k

disclaimer ➞ 18+, strong language, implied age gap (natasha is slightly older but everything is 100% legal), smut, oral ( r reviving), fingering (r receiving), strap on use (double ended), dirty talk (praise + degradation + a little dumbification + pet names)

gif source

a/n || this whole thing came from me seeing a picture of beefy nat in endgame so that was a wild ride. this piece of work is not to be copied or translated anywhere. thank you for reading!!! comments and reblogs appreciated <3

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The idea of mystery had always enthralled you.

To have something dangle in your face and still fail to understand it was entirely too appealing to someone who had always been filled with a need to want - and to, subsequently, keep wanting until there was nothing left. You could admit that you were greedy in that way.

Lucky for you, Natasha Romanoff was a complete enigma - one of the biggest mysteries you’d ever had the privilege of encountering. Although, ‘encounter’ wouldn’t be your ideal choice of word; it sounded entirely too pleasant for the whole ordeal considering she had sought you out under the conviction that she was going to kill you.

It happened nearly four years to the day. But it could have been a year ago - or a day ago - the way that you remembered every detail down to the stomach-turning icy feeling of her knife when she pressed it against the hollow of your throat.

You remember the sickening growl in her voice, when it dropped down an octave and hovered just at your ear so that she could tell you ‘God, I’d just love to have a spoiled little bitch like you begging for my mercy but I’ve grown quite fond of you so I’ll spare you the suffering’. And you remember the cold chill that ran down your spine immediately after that.

To this day, you’re still unsure how you made it out of there alive and unharmed. You did figure it had something to do with the fact that her eyes kept flickering to your chest with every shaky breath that heaved in your lungs. Or maybe it was the way they fell to your lips as you whimpered a weak promise of ‘it’s okay, go ahead’ in that whine she would never, out loud, admit to falling in love with.

All of that aside, you had never understood the woman and had come to turns with the fact that you probably never would. Though, you did find it best not to question the loyalty she had grown for you in the days that followed. After all, it had been years now and she still had yet to let you down.

When you hired her, you figured you’d learn more about her and you did - in a way.

You learned that she liked her coffee black but she wouldn’t get it from that coffee shop down the street because their muffins were too hard on the outside. And that her favorite place to eat was the grill downtown because none of the waitresses flirted with her while she ate and they always got her order right, no matter how complicated - because, you also learned, she was not one of those people who were too afraid to ask for their order to be exactly how they liked it.

But, still, you could never really know her. And that was something you were beginning to accept.

Tonight was no different.

Your muscles are growing noticeably weaker by the time the tiredness sets in and the excitement of the day finally begins to dwindle under the dim lamp-light of your bedroom. Your chest tightens as you’re left with whatever thoughts have managed to free themselves and run rampant in your exhausted brain.

“Will that be all for the night, boss?” Natasha’s voice is gentle as she stands in the hall and peaks her head in the doorway, careful and slow - like she does every other night she asks that same question - as she tries to avoid scaring you with her sudden intrusion.

You turn on your heel and your eyes fall onto her as a sigh passes your lips, “I think so, Natty, yeah.”

Even though you don’t ask for help, she watches you struggle to reach for the zipper at the back of your dress and her head cocks to the side curiously, “Would you like me to help you?” She treads carefully with her question, fearing that she’d overstep any boundaries.

Both of her hands come up and wrap around either side of the bulky doorframe as she begins to rock on her feet in wait of your answer. A soft ‘please’ finally unhitches from your aching throat, a hint of that whine in your tone makes the red-head have to swallow a smile.

You tug frustratedly at the hips of your dress, feeling constricted in the tight fabric, and she lets a breathy chuckle erupt in her chest before catching her bottom lip between her teeth. “Every time.” She jokes as she pushes into the room, gently pressing the door closed behind her with a soft click.

You huff, “It’s not my fault. I can’t reach the goddamn zipper.” Your genuine irritation makes her laugh, a much fuller sound this time. “Of course not, Madam President.”

“Oh please,” you hiss as a look of discontentment paints across your face, “I’m not president yet and I doubt I ever will be if the press doesn’t stop treating me as a joke. Did you see the way they talked to me tonight?”

The older woman moves to you with a disagreeing hum, squaring herself behind you with a hand on either of your shoulders. The gesture forces a heat behind your cheeks and you fight from meeting her intimidating observance.

“Oh, don’t mind them. They’re bloodsuckers. You do great in every interview and your polls are up from last week. People are really taking a liking to you.”

Your eyebrows push up then, “Like when you took a liking to me?” She knows it’s part joke but that doesn’t stop her from noticing the uncertainty that sparkles in your eyes. “If I hadn’t taken a liking to you, I would have followed through with my plan to assassinate you.”

The truth in her statement has you wringing your hands together nervously and the room falls silent as you contemplate her answer. A small ‘maybe you should have’ slips out from under your breath and makes Natasha’s own heart begin to ache in her chest. But she ultimately decides not to comment.

Instead, she takes the zipper of your dress between patient fingers as her eyes flash to yours through the glass of the full-body mirror in front of you. You shift anxiously, watching as she guides the small metal piece down the stretch of your back until the connecting fabric falls away at your sides.

“Maybe presidency isn’t worth all these formal events and uncomfortable dresses.” You attempt to return the playfulness into the air between you as you shimmy out of the dress and letting it pool onto the floor around your feet.

Natasha offers a fatigued laugh, “Well, if you didn’t wear uncomfortable dresses, then I wouldn’t have the privilege of taking them off of you.” The evening’s second wave of heat rushes to your cheeks at the implication of her words.

Your relationship with Natasha had been like this, since the moment you two had become comfortable with each other - harmless banter turned into empty flirting when there weren’t any perked ears around to hear. She liked to make you flustered when the two of you were alone; watch you fumble around for words and try to figure out how to play it cool under the watch of her distracting green eyes.

She eventually shuffles away from you, letting the back of her calves hit your bed-frame before she takes a seat on the mattress. “So what is it? You don’t like all the attention you get at your big, fancy, rich-people parties?” The obvious distaste in her voice makes you turn to face her again with an unreadable expression, carefully stepping out of the puddle of fabric.

“It’s not that I don’t like it. I just…” You voice trials off as you try to find the words, padding towards the bed as her eyes flicker over your half-naked body. “I miss being able to go out - I can’t even go to the gas station for a slushie without cameras in my face and press shouting about whether I support this or why I don’t support that.”

Natasha tilts her head, “I can go get you a slushie if you’d like.” You practically melt at the genuine concern in her voice, moving to sit next to her on the bed. “That’s very sweet of you but also not the point, Nat. I just miss being able to get in the car and go somewhere without a million people trailing at my heels.”

Natasha’s eyes fall to her lap as she thinks, then they flicker back to you. “You miss me not being up your ass all the time?” Her lip tilts playfully, she’s hoping her hopeful attempt at making you laugh with succeed and it does when a giggle falls from your lips. “You are the least of my problems. If anything, you make all this work somewhat tolerable.”

She echoes back your ‘somewhat’ to make you laugh again as you scoot closer to her. “Yeah, somewhat. Don’t let that go to your head.” She nudges your shoulder playfully, “Oh no, it definitely already has. Knowing you can’t live without me.”

“Hey, I never said that!”

The two of you laugh in harmony for a moment before a comforting lull washes over you both. Her hand finds your knee, thumb rubbing gentle circles against the skin and your head falls onto her shoulder.

She can feel a tear wet her skin through the thin material of her shirt and she quickly shrugs your head away so she can take your face between her hands. “Hey, why are you crying?”

You shake your head and move to wipe the stray tears, “It’s just the stress, it makes me emotional.” You say through a half-hearted laugh; mostly at how ridiculous you feel to be crying right now.

“You need to de-stress.” Her words are a soft hum as her eyes dart around your face. “May I?” Your eyebrows knit in confusion before she’s leaning towards you and, suddenly, you can feel her breath against your lips.

It’s now that you realize the hand that had fallen back to your knee has tightened its grip and, as much as you hate to admit it, your thighs clench in excitement at the implication that she is preparing to kiss you. The thumb that is still pressed to your face swipes at your cheek reassuringly, “Is this okay?” but her eyes don’t leave your lips as she speaks.

A nod from you is all she needs to connect your mouths, hers beginning to work gently against yours as you crane forward to meet her half-way. You attempt to fight her for some type of dominance but it’s a futile fight when her tongue presses against the seam of your lips and you nearly melt into a puddle on the bed.

There’s something eternal about the way she kisses you - like you could stay here forever and never need to pull away or do anything other than kiss her for the rest of your entire life.

Your body twists to face her fully, knees coming up to tuck underneath you until you’re taller than her. Her free hand presses against your stomach so that her fingers are free to explore the skin she’d been staring at for the last bout of your conversation.

You toy with the strands of hair that usually frame her chiseled expression, pushing them out of the way. A delighted hum falls from her mouth and into yours, the sound causing you to part from her lips just enough to lock eyes with her.

You’re still towering above her but you only hold eye contact for a moment to say a million things with your eyes without uttering a word.

“Let me.” She finally mutters to break the silence and concentration. You know the words ‘take control’ are lingering somewhere at the end of her sentence but neither of you really need her to clarify as she surges her body towards you and forces you onto your back.

She’s expressing so many different emotions with her lips as she moves to hover over you and attaches them to your throat eagerly. Their path is linear across the skin, trailing the same length that her blade once had - almost as if she’s saying i’m sorry.

But the sweet burn of excited nerves makes it hard for you to concentrate on the meaning behind her actions as you revel in the delightful stinging feeling. Your knees bend towards the ceiling and feet plant against the bed, inviting her to settle between your thighs; which she does without hesitation.

Your fingers work off the buttons of her shirt, letting her tie fall and brush against your exposed stomach. When her torso is finally freed of the shirt, you push it away and toss it to gather onto the floor.

She stops kissing you for a moment, the slightest bit of fear swimming around in her olive eyes, as you examine the scars littered across her toned abdomen.

There’s one in particular, it’s raised and a pale pink much lighter than her complexion. Goosebumps flutter over her flesh when your fingers graze it and she instantly softens at the interest in your gaze. Her nerves wash away as her lips twitch with a smirk and she says “I’ll tell you all about them one day.”

You confirm the idea with a kiss, pulling her impossibly closer to you by tangling her tie in your fist and yanking her to you. Her laugh fans against your lips as she kisses you, failing to bite back the smile that’s been threatening to ruin the kiss since your mouths had first connected.

“I’ve been dreaming about this moment forever.” She admits, pushing up to sit on her knees and unbuckle the dress pants around her hips. You help pull them down her thighs, not bothering to leave the red-cotton underwear underneath them as she kicks it all onto the floor.

“You have?” It’s hard to hide the shyness that entangles itself in your voice so you move to press your face against her chest, littering it with gentle kisses and nips but she notices the shift in your demeanor anyway and lowers herself back down to your eye-line. “Look at you. Of course I have.”

She accents her truth by letting her lips find the valley of your chest, hands sliding around to undo the clip of your bra with ease, as if she had been doing it for years.

When the bra falls away, her lips attach to your nipple; taking the sensitive bud between her teeth and flicking at it with her tongue.

You almost wonder if she’d been studying your body without your knowledge - learning how to bite and kiss and lick in just the right way to force the air to deflate from your lugs and push those melodic moans from your throat.

“You sound so pretty.” She comments in between licks down your trembling stomach, fingers curling around your underwear to pull the soaked fabric down your legs and leave them to dangle from the bed-frame. “Love it when you sing for me.”

Another wave a goosebumps prick at your skin as she nips against your thighs, eyes looking up to find yours through her fluttering eyelashes and the sight alone makes a rush of your arousal drip onto the bedsheets.

Her hand comes up and presses against your sensitive skin, right above where your underwear would begin and she hums, “Do you always tremble like this when a woman touches you?”

You want to say no - deny, deny, deny, right? - and you wouldn’t technically be lying but you’ve also never willingly submitted to someone as easily as you were for her. There had never been a woman who knew how to handle your body the way she was doing now.

Lucky for you, or maybe unlucky for you, there isn’t time to answer because her flattened tongue falls out between her lips and caresses your entrance like she’d been starving all her life and you were the only food she had ever been offered.

The sudden pleasure overtakes you in a gasp, body shuddering away from the bed just to chase the feeling of her tongue. She laughs into the skin of your thigh, holding your legs open with her muscled arms, “So eager.”

She surges towards you again, burying her face in your folds and pushing her tongue into you as far as she can. You clench around her, embarrassingly tight, but it only spurs her on as she simultaneously nudges your clit with her nose and explores the fluttering walls of your cunt with her tongue.

One of her hands leaves your thigh as her mouth moves raises to suckle at your clit. A finger probes the empty hole that her tongue had only just vacated. “You taste fucking amazing. Anyone ever tell you that?”

You don’t want to answer. Not because no one had - you’ve heard it on more than one occasion - but because you’d rather forget that you’d ever been touched before her. Well, you had never been touched like this, anyway.

When her finger finally dips into your cunt, you let out an extremely loud and rather whorish moan that shatters any of the composure either of you had been left with. “That’s it.” She encourages as her finger curls inside you and your hips crane to meet her.

She lashes her tongue against your clit in one long stroke to soften the upcoming blow of her pulling away completely. Your chest is rattled with a needy whine that makes the other woman throb between her own legs. “Shhh angel, I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

You want to protest, or maybe panic as you fear you’ve done something wrong, but she’s already pulling your robe onto her shoulders and shuffling out the door before you have the chance to. Your legs twitch and clench at the empty feeling, slick coating your thighs and surely the bed beneath you.

Even though it’s only a few shot seconds, it seems to be years before she returns. When she does, an excited grin is playing across her lips as she shuts the door. The curiosity in your gaze is answered as she turns to you and lets the robe fall away, onto the floor. A thick, flesh-colored strap stands tall between her toned legs.

As she’s standing there, chest puffed confidently and you ogling the toy dangling from her hips, you can picture the crude words glowing across a neon sign: ‘DESPERATE BOSS GETS FUCKED BY HER BEEFY BODYGUARD (LOTS OF MOANING, REAL ORGASM!!)’

Natasha leans forward and kisses at your knee, hand curling around your calf to spread your legs so that she is free to slot herself between them. “Couldn’t wait to fuck you proper, angel. I’ve got to right now.” She explains, head falling to your neck where she begins to press gentle kisses.

You hum in total agreement, hands caressing the skin on her back as she kissed down your neck to your shoulder, letting her teeth scrape against your pulse before she comes up to kiss you.

“You want me to fuck you as bad as I want to fuck you?”

You answer embarrassingly quick with a ‘yes, yes please’, hands darting into her hair to grip on excitedly. “Oh baby, such perfect manners. You’re so starved of attention, huh?” Her tone is very much Natasha, playful and condescending but they still warm your belly in anticipation.

The strap nudges your clit as you eagerly take it in your hand, her eyes flutter closed at both the feeling of the toy shifting and the squeak that falls from your lips. You want to show her how good you can be as you pump the toy with your first; it becomes very evident, very quickly, that the other end of the toy is nuzzled inside her cunt.

The pleasured sounds she makes encourage you to meet her sights. Your eyes are screaming ‘fuck me, please, i’ll be so good for you’ when they lock onto hers and hers are almost saying ‘i know baby, gonna fuck you so good’ even as the toy pushes into you slow enough for you to feel your walls stretch to accommodate its girth.

She brings herself onto her knees, both hands wrenched into your hips as her arm muscles contract with the strength she uses to grip them. You could have cum right then and there, watching the animalistic need take over her as she begins pumping her hips into yours.

She’s chasing her own need, as well as yours, and the thought of it makes you want to behave just enough to see her cum because of you.

A shattered moan escapes you and bounces off the walls as she rolls her hips particularly deep, moving languidly and expertly to hit just the right spots. “You’re so messy, peach. Making a big mess of my cock.” Her words are grunted through her own labored breathing and your pathetic mewling.

“You take me so well, I’m so proud of you, my girl.” You respond with a mindless chant of ‘so good, natty, so fucking good’.

She subtly corrects your use of her name with, “Mommy’s got you so drunk on my cock, isn’t that right baby? Not a single thought behind those pretty little eyes once I get my hands on you?” and laughs wickedly as she comes down to kiss you again and her hips pick up speed.

The authority behind her tone makes you clench around the toy, gripping at her back for dear life. She growls into your ear when your nails break at the skin, never letting her hips falter but, instead, speeding up to a pace that makes you question if she’s real.

Even as she’s fucking you, toy balls-deep inside your dripping cunt, you wonder if all of this is a dream. Because she’s fucking you too well, and she knows our body too well, and she knows just what to say to keep you riled up.

She must have seen the haze in your eyes as your mind wonders because she grips at your chin, letting one arm down flex by your head and hold herself up. “Come back to me, my peach, focus on Mommy and just how good she fucks you, yeah?”

“So good, Mommy!” It’s a shout more than anything, desperately trying to grab onto something that’s going to keep you grounded as she fucks into you deeper and her breath echoes by your ears.

“Oh the poor dumb baby just needed to be fucked good. You wanna run a whole country and still let Mommy spread you open and fuck you stupid on my cock? Is that what you need, baby?”

“Mommy, please. Gonna cum. Can I - oh god - can I cum for you Mommy?”

She lets out a delighted laugh then, hand trailing away from your chin to caress circles around your clit, “Cum for me, angel. Let it all out, sweet girl.”

You try to hold it; to keep this feeling going as you almost fear you’ll never get it again, but something springs open inside of you and you let out a scream into the quieted second level of the house as you cum.

“That’s so good, you’re so pretty.” The praises come from her in sweet tongue rolls, pants and gasps falling from her lips as her own cunt twitches around the toy’s opposite end. “Yes, Mommy’s so close, baby. Fuck, just hang on.”

You can see her struggle to keep whatever is left of her composure, hips sloppy as they drill yours into the mattress. She groans into your shoulder as she cums around the toy, hissing about how beautiful you are and how she loves the way you look underneath her. But the words are muffled by the sound of the blood rushing in your ears as you struggle to regain your breath.

In fear of overstimulating your - already shot - nervous system, she pulls out smoothly. You whimper, choking on the air in your throat and she rubs at your chest soothingly. “You’re okay, my peach, you’re okay.”

You pull her into a kiss as she collapses beside you, gripping onto her as if you’re scared she’ll disappear underneath your fingertips. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’m gonna get you the win you deserve.”

It’s impossible to fight the tiredness that overtakes you as your head falls against her naked chest and her fingers rake through your hair as she mumbles comforts and nicknames you wonder whether or not they’ll ever leave this bedroom.

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 :)💕

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.

Keep reading

Day 4: breath play

Melina Vostokoff x reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, breath play, light humiliation / degradation, mommy kink, mild power exchange

Summary: Melina’s always willing to try whatever you suggest. Sometimes, she ends up really liking it.

Naive reader, but hey, it’s fine.

Communication is Key

It started out as a simple request to shake things up in the bedroom. Not that you and Melina weren’t always adventurous.

You two used toys, regularly. You switched responsibility of who would lead. You had sex whenever and wherever you wanted. Sex wasn’t boring.

But, you wanted to try something new.

On one of you regularly scheduled girls nights, one of your friends had mentioned that she enjoyed being choked. You tried to play down your interest, but as she explained it, you couldn’t help the excitement building in you.

Melina was surprised when you brought it up, having to stop brushing her teeth to ensure you were serious. You backtracked almost immediately, but she stopped you, gently assuring you that together, you’d look into it.

Many forums, blogs, and conversations later, the two of you had finally come up with a plan.

That’s how you found yourself here: naked, on your back, clutching at Melina’s wrist as she squeezed your throat while three fingers pounded into your cunt without mercy.

“Oh kitten,” she purred, dangerous eyes glittering with amusement. “You don’t look like you want to breath too badly.”

You nodded your head as vigorously as you could, mouth slack and eyes blinking rapidly.

Melina tsked, loosening the pressure for just a moment; enough time for you to suck in a breath before constricting and forcing the air to stay in your lungs.

“Your pussy‘s soaked, little girl.” You groaned at the slur, fresh arousal slipping down your thighs. “Dirty thing gets off on being treated like she’s nothing, doesn’t she?”

Her fingers curled up, causing you to gurgle under her hand, your cry stuck.

“Gonna come for mommy, kitten? Soak mommy’s hand like a good whore?”

When her thumb reach up and brushed your clit, you were gone. Your body shook, hips moving without rhythm as you fell from your high, spilling all over her hand.

Her grip on your neck fell, fingertips dancing over your heated skin as you sucked in as much air as you could.

Melina slipped her fingers out of you and wiped them off on the sheets before kissing you sweetly. “How are you feeling, solnyshkuh?”

“Good,” you croaked with a goofy smile. “That was, really good. Thank you.”

Your girlfriend kissed you again, licking your top lip as she pulled away. “You can thank me by putting your tongue to good use,” she purred, crawling up your chest.

You were happy to oblige.

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

Natasha: *cracks knuckles*

Natasha: Manslaughter it is

Marching On

(Bruce / Tony / Clint / Steve / Natasha)

Masterlist

(Gifs not mine)

(After the events of the Avengers, everyone moves into the tower; such broken people saved the world.)

1/ Bruce

He thinks she doesn’t like him.

It’s fair, he supposes, after the events on the helicarrier. He purposefully stays out of her way for the first month at least.

It’s easier when there are others around, and everyone makes an effort. Tony engages him in conversations of biomechanics and the theory of nanotech; and he watches Steve awkwardly adapt to the niceties of having money and time to live that’s not in war.

Clint, he watches more than the others. His quick smile and easy humour is genuine that he can tell, and he finds that when he’s quite he can hear the intelligence of the archer in all the things he doesn’t say.

.

Bruce moves into the Tower at Tony’s request. He’s been a nomad for so long that he figures it doesn’t really matter where he stays, and Tony promises to pump money into the vaccine program in India, where Natasha found him.

It’s probably more good than he’ll ever do.

There’s mandated therapy for all of them after the events of New York.

Guilt tears at him and he tries to explain to the therapist that he has had enough therapy for a lifetime, he knows he’s responsible for multiple deaths, and it’s things he lives with daily.

He tells her that her time would be better used with people that actually need it; children that have lost parents, people who have lost their partners, those that are injured, traumatised… the list could go on.

He should be last on the list, he tells her, of people getting help, and with that he’s promptly signed up to fortnightly sessions.

Tony laughs when he tells him, and says she said the same to him. He clasps him on the back and leads him to his lab.

“Build something,” Tony advises, “it helps.”

And Bruce knows that he’s made the right decision in coming here.

.

He likes watching people.

Clint the most, he thinks.

Tony is predictable.

Steve is aloof, polite.

And where there’s Clint, there’s usually Natasha.

It’s rare that they aren’t together and he can see how protective she is of him.

It’s little things. The way she walks through the door last, checking his back. The way she makes sure he eats, and refuses when he offers her some.

And the way she is quick with her words whenever anyone says a bad word against him.

She can be caustic where Tony is blunt, matches Steve’s quietness and there’s times that he’s left the room at her suggestion but it’s felt like his own idea.

He likes watching Clint, because it means he can also watch Natasha.

.

He feels particularly rattled after a therapy session, and he passes Natasha going in.

“Good luck,” he murmurs, and she smiles shallowly at him. He doesn’t think much of it and heads straight to bed even though it’s just after 3pm.

He wakes up some time around midnight, his stomach rumbling and his throat parched.

His room holds snacks, but he wants the left over fried rice they had two nights prior.

A beer would also be good, he thinks, even if the buzz he once experienced no longer occurs.

Slowly moving to the kitchen, he finds Natasha sitting at the breakfast bar eating cereal.

Purposely, he makes some noise to alert her to his presence but she already knows, standing and moving around the bench bringing her bowl with her, throwing the rest of the food into the disposable.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he opens with.

She shrugs.

“Was done,” she says, with a tired smile.

Bruce nods and pulls the rice from the fridge. Looks for the beer and pulls out two, offering her one that is declined as she seems caught between keeping him company and sneaking out.

“You can go,” he tells her, putting the food in the microwave and opening the beer as it cooks.

It works to catch her and social pressure makes her sit.

“You couldn’t sleep, either?”

Natasha watches him closely, as he pulls the hot food out and shakes his hands against the heat. He feels idiotic around her.

In a moment of abject honestly, she shakes her head.

“Clint had a nightmare,” she says, not looking at him.

Bruce finds it interesting, that in the middle of the night is when Natasha is most honest.

He nods, sitting next to her with his food and beer.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks.

He doubts that she will, as silence fills the kitchen.

So he offers up some of himself.

“Today in therapy,” he starts, “we talked about hyper vigilance and how I over obsess… over-estimate, maybe, the potential for danger at any given moment.” He takes another bite and wonders where he’s going with this.

“The practice was to be more mindful but not fearful of my surroundings.”

He scoffs.

“Why does therapy always seem so draining?” he finishes. He starts eating again, not expecting answers, even almost expecting her to leave as he sips his beer and finishes off the rice.

Natasha watches him closely, he feels her gaze run over him, and it’s likely that this is what the therapist was talking about.

“There’s three doors in this room, I have two guns ready, ones under the table,” she pauses.

“Tony is in the lab, Clint is asleep in his bed, and Steve is in the gym,” cocking her head, she stares at him.

“And you’re in here eating.”

Straight faced, they make eye contact.

“I think we must have had similar conversations.” She smirks.

Bruce grins.

“Tony should get a refund, that’s two for one advice,” he jokes.

“Was your homework the same too?” He laughs.

She grows serious, and he wonders what he said. As much as he watches her, he still has no idea what she’s thinking.

“Small acts of trust,” she says, as she stands and heads for the fridge.

He laughs.

“At least it’s tailored to our particular issues,” he deadpans.

He watches as she takes some string cheese from the fridge, slowly opening it, and pulling it apart.

He stands and disposes of his bowl and as he turns he watches her chew on the cheese as she disposes of the rest.

Shrugging, Natasha yawns, and bids him good night.

He replies in kind, and, as Bruce heads back to bed, it occurs to him that it was likely Natasha practicing what the therapist had asked of her.

Even if to him it seemed like nothing.

.

There’s a difference, Bruce notices in the way Natasha acts with him.

It seems that on days that therapy occurs they end up in the kitchen at midnight. Sometimes Clint is there, sometimes Tony.

It’s like a repair of sorts, where he offers her something of himself and when he’s lucky she offers something back.

Small acts of trust, he thinks, is a lesson they’re all learning.

.

HI HAPPY NEW YEAR- mediocre nat and r having a night out and r saying goodbye after nat drops her off but not saying she loves her and nat is like ?? hello??

hello thats very cute and in character but i am so tired ive been ready to collapse for like over a day so whatever tf im writing after this is what ur getting

This Friday date night goes a lot better than Nat's McDonald's fuckery from last week. You take her to that bar she likes near work, paying for the french fries you shared and the first two rounds. There was some game playing on the TV that you don't really follow but Nat clearly does because she laughs every time one of the teams fails. You don't think she really has a sports team she roots for and she admits she just picks the one with nicer uniforms to care about anytime sports comes on the TV.

When her team of the night wins, she plants a kiss on you that has someone at the bar hollering. You wince when she pulls away to glower at the man.

After that, you'd looped your arm around hers and you'd had a nice walk through the park. Skipped rocks in the pond. She had done a better job. In character, of course, but annoying nonetheless.

Tomorrow, she leaves for a mission, so she has to head to the tower tonight to pack up her gear and you've got an empty house for the foreseeable future.

It's sad.

You spend the car ride to your house gripping her hand and staring at the streetlights. Nat turns up the radio and taps the steering wheel to the beat of the song.

Nat leaps out of the car the moment she pulls into your driveway while you twist around to grab your tote bag from the backseat. When Nat comes and opens your door for you, you smile and take her hand.

Still, there's a sense of melancholy falling over you already. You sigh for the fifteenth time tonight and Nat just squeezes your fingers.

"I'll be back before you know it," she says into your shoulder while you fish your keys out of your bag.

"Now I have to take the bus to work," you say, sullenly.

"Tony would probably get you a car service if you asked."

You huff. Sometimes, you can't tell if she's fucking with you or if she's really that dense. One of the downsides of how casual the two of you are with each other, how often you poke fun at each other.

"What?" she huffs when you stomp to the living room to throw your bag on the couch.

"Now I have to fuck myself if I get horny." You spin quickly to glower at her. "And don't even say anything about Tony. We both know you'd probably commit some sort of atrocity if I ever did that just because you're emotionally constipated."

Nat scowls too. "Pot kettle black much."

The both of you squint at each other for a few long moments before you give in--always you first--and cross the distance to where she's leaning in your doorway.

Nat watches, impassive, as you pick up her hands. Lets you tug her closer to your body. "You know I own a cellphone, right?"

"Phone sex?" you mumble into her shoulder. "On the job?"

You can basically hear her eye roll. "No. You are so not getting off while I'm gone. But you don't have to act like I've got a terminal illness just because I'm going on a business trip."

Business trip. As if her business trip isn't some life-endangering superspy mission in god-knows-where, Europe, involving superhumans and, like, missiles.

"Come on," she says, pulling back so she can bump your chin up with your linked hands. "Send me pictures of your meals or whatever the hell normal people do."

"You'd just leave me on read," you grumble.

"I'll send you pictures of MREs so you can ignore me too." She's aiming for levity.

You are too down in the dumps to do anything but force a tiny smile and lean in for a quick kiss. She has to go soon. Too soon.

Nat tilts her head to catch your eyes. There's a hint of concern on her face. "Back before you know it."

"Don't break into my house again," you say, hoping your smile is more convincing this time. She's a superhero. No need to worry about a clingy girlfriend.

"No promises." She presses in for another kiss before stepping back, releasing your hands. "Bye, baby."

"Okay," you say with a heaving sigh, leaning on your door. Usually, you would watch her get in her car, wave at her through the window, and then disappear down the street.

Today, Nat does not move an inch. Looks at you expectantly.

She raises her eyebrows. "...bye."

You frown. "Bye?" you say slowly.

Still, she waits.

"Don't die," you offer. No movement. "...I would be sad."

Nope.

"I might even cry."

"Jesus," Nat growls out, spinning on her heel and storming off your porch. She's actually mad. You can tell.

You fumble with the door, making sure it's unlocked, before chasing after Nat. She's already at the wheel by the time you're knocking on her window.

She gives the wheel a look so searing, you're surprised it still has the gall to exist. Then, she rubs at her eye with an aggravated fist. Then, the window rolls down and she looks over at you with a tired look.

"What did I do?" you ask immediately, hands curling over the car door.

"Nothing."

You reach out to touch her cheek, something inside your chest aching something fierce when she flinches. "Nat," you say softly, voice thin from how much this hurts. Unexpected hurt, really. Pot kettle black, indeed. "Come on."

"I," she starts, stops to wince, continues with more gusto: "I will miss you."

"I'll miss you too," you reply quickly, hand tilting her face to look more fully at you. "If you died, I think I would never recover."

"I won't die," she murmurs into your palm, eyes pinned on you now.

"Promise?"

Nat smiles, a small roll to her eyes. "Sure, I promise."

"Okay." You nod, tipping onto your toes and tugging her face in to meet you in a chaste kiss. "I love you, okay? If you break your promise, I'll kill you."

Nat looks at you like you've hung the moon and the stars in the sky. Disguised, of course, by a wry shake of the head. "Haven't broken a promise to you yet. Won't start now. But also that made no sense."

"Get off my property, truther."

Nat grins, then, yanks you in for another hard kiss before letting you back up a few steps.

Her taillights disappear around the bend. Your heart feels heavy in your chest. She'll be back before you know it.