Pulling Your Lover Closer By The Waistband

Captivity

Summary: The Avengers think they know the reader, but a mission gone wrong proves they really don’t

Pairing: So I wrote this as a platonic Avengers & Reader but then it could also be seen as Natasha x Reader, so read it however you’d prefer.

Word Count: 4700

A/N: I really like this one, it was fun to write at least. Also I have some fics pre-written already like this but I really have no time to write, so I’ll see how often I can, I don’t want to go through them too fast.

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You’d met Pepper at a coffee shop. It was a temporary job as a barista, but it was a bit of money while you were at college. Of course heads turned when the CEO of Stark Industries walked in, ordering a cake and two coffees. In fact, the only reason you served her was because your co-workers were too busy being star struck, whispering bets on whether Tony Stark himself would walk in later; you thought it unlikely.

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Better Boyfriend Than Him

A/N - had to jump on the bandwagon and base a one shot on Boyfriend by Dove Cameron

Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary - Bruce left Natasha sitting alone at a Stark party so you decided to show her how she truly deserves to be treated.

Warnings - Smut; cheating, degradation, choking, slight exhibitionism, praise, daddy kink, strapon (r!receiving), biting ig

Word Count - 2116

You sipped on your drink, some kind of fruity cocktail, alcohol tingling your throat as you swallowed it down. Your eyes grazed over the crowd from where you were perched on a stool at the bar; eyeing Wanda laughing with Pietro and Sam, Steve and Bucky sitting across from them too. You saw Tony and Bruce talking animatedly with some serious looking men in suits, your eyebrows furrowed when you realised Bruce had been with Tony the past few hours, not with Natasha.

You shook your head at his negligence, how could somebody like him take somebody like Natasha for granted?

You searched over the bustling hall of people, some dancing, some chatting cradling tumblers of whiskey over ice; squinting your eyes slightly until you found her. A bored look across her features as she mindlessly scrolled through her phone, her other hand supporting a glass as it balanced on her knee. She looked simply magnificent, wine red blazer with matching trousers, one leg crossed over the other, a white button up shirt hugging her figure. You could see the light reflecting off her necklace against her chest, the warm glow of light bouncing off her smooth skin in such a beautiful way.

Wanda gave you a knowing smirk as she watched you approach Natasha, knowing of the crush you'd been harbouring for a while. It was a common occurrence for the pair of you to talk about her and Bruce's relationship, how he doesn't deserve her - she often mentions the loud thoughts she has accidentally heard running around the redhead's mind. Thoughts of you and what she longed to do with you, if only she didn't have Bruce.

It was knowledge of this that gave you the confidence to approach her tonight, plopping down beside her on the sofa. She quickly shut off her phone to bring her attention to you, a soft smile gracing her lips.

"Hey, Nat." You smiled, taken aback slightly at her appearance up close, the red shade of her jacket perfect against her skin. Auburn hair resting on her shoulders in loose waves.

"Hey. Enjoying the party?" She smiled back, you could see the aggravation behind it though, annoyed at the absence of her boyfriend.

"It's alright, you?"

"Having a blast." She deadpanned, sipping the remnants of the brown liquid from her glass, ice clinking against the side as she did so. You hummed at her statement.

"I could see. You've been on your own all night."

"Well, Bruce has been busy talking science." She shrugged and it irked you to see her try and defend his behaviour.

"You deserve better than Bruce." You huffed, both of you slightly shocked at your words, you hadn't expected yourself to be so forthright. Luckily she wasn't annoyed, rather amused with a smirk forming.

"I guess I do." She shrugged leaning closer to you, her leg brushing against yours at her proximity. "Who do you have in mind?" She asked, eyes gazing over the crowds as though looking for somebody to choose, teasingly.

"I could be a better boyfriend than him." You whispered, hearing a low groan at the back of her throat as she seemingly mulled over your statement.

"We shouldn't." She stood up and began walking to the doorway behind you. You followed her, of course, grabbing her wrist just as she stepped into the hallway causing her to whip round to face you. An unreadable expression, eyes darting over your face before she grabbed your face between her hands, tugging it to hers.

Her lips tasted faintly like whiskey, warm against yours as they moved together. She guided your bodies backwards to be out of sight of the party goers, her lips never left yours until she pushed your back against the corridor wall. Her kisses continued down to your jaw, sucking at the flesh of your neck whilst your hands roamed her waist, her body feeling perfect under your touch.

She nipped at your bottom lip, the gasp it elicited posing as ample opportunity for her tongue to slip into your mouth, swirling with yours as you kissed. Her hips pushed into yours as the kiss grew heavier trapping you between her body and the wall, not that you minded.

Her fingers gripped one of your hands that lay on her waist guiding it to the waistband of her trousers, pulling back with heavy breaths, eyes a darkened hue as she undid the button. Her eyes bore into yours as she inched your hand down, fingertips brushing against the hem of her underwear.

"Nat, here?" You breathed out, looking around the empty hallway, the noise of the party in just the next room filling the air.

"Mhm, make daddy feel good baby." She rasped, looking to you to make sure you were on board, the name she used only made the heat course further through you. She sighed into your mouth when your fingers slipped down further making contact with the wetness between her folds.

Your fingertips collected some of her arousal before rubbing over her clit, neither of you caring in that moment if somebody were to walk out and see, both you even going so far as to hope Bruce might wander out. You could only smirk at the thought whilst her tongue licked over a harsh bite to your collarbone, a way to muffle the moan at the back of her throat.

She squeezed a handful of your hair into her fist as your movements continued, pleasure building, hips rocking into yours slightly as she grew nearer to her release. You'd only ever imagined how she would sound coming undone by your hand and as cliche as it sounds, it was music to your ears. A deep groan with shuddered breaths against the shell of your ear, scalp being tugged with how her hand clenched down onto your hair and her body falling into yours.

"Such a good girl, hm?" She panted out, placing kisses along your throat before quickly pulling you along - you both wanted more.

In a haze you found yourself in Natasha's room, you knew that Bruce never comes in here so it was distinctly hers: delicate floral scent in the air, bed neatly made, a photo of you and her taped to her mirror.

She quickly rid you of your shirt, kissing the skin of your chest as she fiddled with the button of your trousers. "This okay, love?" She asked, only pulling them down your legs after receiving an eager nod on your part.

You fell with a quiet thud onto her bed, head resting on her pillows as she climbed on top of you slotting her lips with yours again. Your fingers fumbled with buttons of her shirt, blazer already discarded just inside the door, revelling in the sight of her flesh spilling out of the top of lacey black material. She shrugged the shirt off her body with a smirk looking down at you, throwing it aside before climbing off your body, chuckling slightly at the small whine you released at her absence.

"Wait a second, baby." She muttered as she rid herself of the rest of her clothes, confidence only adding to her allure as she walked away totally nude. "So impatient, huh?" She tutted with a smirk, shuffling in her wardrobe.

Your eyes widened with a quiet gasp as she smugly turned back with a red strap on in her grasp, stepping into it before sauntering back over to the edge of the bed.

"I've not been able to use this, don't you think that's so sad baby?" She pouted, holding your chin between her thumb and forefinger.

"Mhm." You nodded, matching the smirk that pulled her lips.

"You'll let me use it though, hm? Let me fuck you?"

"Yes, daddy." You breathed, and she was satisfied with your answer, climbing back on top of you and kissing your with fervour. You could feel the arousal pooling at the feeling of her hand pressing against your throat whilst the tip of her strap brushed over your clothed core, her teeth biting into your bottom lip before she pulled away.

Her fingers against your skin sent shivers through you as she pulled the underwear from your body, observing every inch of you as you lay vulnerably bare beneath her.

She eased the length into you, moving easily from the wetness between your folds. "So wet for me." She mused, eyes completely focused on the way her cock disappeared into you and the sigh you released at the slow action, adjusting to the size.

She soon increased her pace, thrusting into you rhythmically at the perfect angle that had your eyes rolling back. Her hands dug into your waist to keep her balance, teeth biting down on her lip as she watched your breasts lightly bounce with each thrust, your mouth parted slightly and breathing growing heavy.

"Fuck." She groaned, the strap positioned in a way that hit against her still sensitive clit. "I've always wondered what you'd look like under me like this. Panting, looking like a desperate whore for me." She leant down without letting her movements falter, biting down on your neck and you could feel her hot breath against you. "You like it when I do this?" She muttered as her hand wrapped around your neck, thumb pushing down to restrict your airways.

"Y-yes, fuck." You choked out, climax growing nearer.

"Daddy's little whore." She smiled from above you, her hand reached down to rub over your clit, shocks going through you as your orgasm rapidly approached and the way her hips began to falter showed her second was soon approaching too. "Cum for me, baby. Let me hear how you sound."

The way her finger circled your clit and her hips snapped into you had the pleasure washing all over you not long after, a loud moan tumbling from your lips as you body shook beneath her. The sight was enough for her to fall over the edge right with you, heaving breaths as she held her body up, hands planted either side of your head as you both came down.

"Shit." You sighed out, sweeping the hair that had fallen over your eyes and smiling into the kiss as Natasha pressed her lips to yours once more. She eased out of you leaving you empty and you felt your cheeks heat up at the sight of the wetness on the strap before she dropped it on the floor. Her kisses felt more perfect than you could have imagined, tongue swirling around yours as her hands squeezed your breasts.

"You need to clean up this mess you've made, dorogoy." Her voice rasped before she fell onto her back beside you, dragging you on top of her body by your hair. You crawled down until your face hovered above her slit, glistening with her slick, coating her upper thighs too.

Your tongue licked a stripe up to her clit, humming against her at the sweet taste dancing on your tongue, the vibrations making her hips buck upwards with a low moan. She was sensitive, the way her hand gripped your hair at just a small lick showed you that. You sucked on her throbbing bud, licking over it as her nails dug into your scalp.

"Such a good girl for me." She moaned out. "Mm, so perfect for me princess." Her free hand clawed into the sheets as she fast approached another orgasm, eyes scrunching closed with a grunt as it washed over her, flooding her senses.

She came into your mouth, tongue darting out to catch every last drop, lapping it up eagerly as she had told you to. Her grip on your hair loosened when her heart beat finally calmed down, wiping at the sweat that glistened on her forehead before pulling you back to her. She could taste herself on your lips, only urging her to continue even more.

"You are so good, Y/N/N." She smiled, cheeks blushed red still.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm, so good. I haven't had orgasms this good for six months." She sighed with a roll of her eyes, you grinned knowing that that's how long she'd been dating Bruce, a laugh falling from your lips before you cut yourself off. She laughed too before cupping your cheek with her hand, soft look in her eye as she smiled. "Let me make you feel that good too."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. So sure, let daddy treat my princess how she deserves." She uttered as she flipped your bodies back over, pecking your lips and jaw. "I can't get enough of you, baby. I just wish I'd realised sooner."

A/N - i love that i implied that bruce wouldn't let nat peg him :)

dorogoy - sweetheart

ceo natty making sure no one hurts her (pillow) princess

protective and soft natty pls

implied little!r

a/n: I wasn’t sure if you wanted smut for this, but since you mentioned pillow princess reader I just kinda went with it haha.. also I don’t write little!reader stuff so I just made reader shy and skittish? It fits with the vibe I think so I hope this is acceptable? I spent waaayyy too long on this so apologies for typos and whatever

warnings: 18+, minors DNI; smut; creepy men being creepy (Natasha saves you obvs); masturbation (briefly); fingering (r receiving); possessive Natasha, but she's very loving and soft to R

words: 2.9K

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

If you had it your way you’d be comfortably in bed in your pajamas, curled up while you watched the new baking show Netflix managed to squeeze out. Preferably in your girlfriend’s arms. The same girlfriend who’d kept you away from your cozy plans tonight.

Going into the relationship, you knew Natasha was a busy person. She was important, the best at what she did even. She was respected for good reason; Natasha worked hard to get where she was, having made it to the point where she didn't have to work another day for the rest of her life, but still she showed up and stayed present. It was safe to say Natasha was a workaholic. And while you were proud of her, you did miss her a lot.

Once it was clear you were serious about dating the slightly older woman, Natasha started to let you in more, but you were still subject to cancellations for "work emergencies" and "necessary work meetings." Eventually she insisted you move in with her, claiming she wanted to spend more time with you, but you had a sneaking suspicion the nights you went out drinking your loneliness with friends and her worry for your well-being had something to do with it too.

Living together was nice, sweet even. You got to sleep next to her each night and sometimes you woke up ridiculously early just to watch her resting face, to look at her face when her features were fully relaxed and free from thoughts of her work. Occupying the same space as Natasha also meant she knew your day to day schedule in and out and she tried to plan around you to get the most time with you, but sometimes things came up.

Things like tonight, some Halloween cocktail gathering for people who mean nothing to you, but everything to the future of business. Talks of stocks, trades, and risky investments flew back and forth while you either nodded half-heartedly or zoned out altogether. Natasha convinced you to come with promises of free drinks and laughing at everyone's stuck-up attitudes together and you reasoned that it might be nice to meet some of the people Natasha grumbled about most evenings at dinner.

Instead she'd left you alone about thirty minutes in and she's been sparse ever since, only seeing her for a moment when she found time to check in on you, twirl a stray hair at your ear and promise she'd be back in a few minutes. You wanted to be mad at the redhead, but mostly you were mad at yourself. It was expected she'd be drawn into conversations; everyone wanted to talk to the alluring Natasha Romanoff.

Occasionally she'd gesture in your direction and smile with a few other people, presumably talking about you and it made you blush every time, the proud grin on her face making you feel like the most important person in the room. No, it was impossible to stay upset with her when she looked at only you in such an uncharacteristically soft way.

So you settled into your little corner and scrolled your phone, nursing your glass of champagne while you waited for the event to end. It grew as comfortable as can be to at least not be bothered by anyone else, but of course that didn't last.

"So whose wife are you?"

The voice was almost weaselly, obviously a little intoxicated from the tinge of slur to his words. You let out a long-suffering breath, annoyed that you were now being bothered in the spot you'd carved out for yourself. "No one's. But I'm here with Natasha."

Any hope that he'd go away with the mention of your girlfriend's name was dashed when he only scooted closer. "Ah, you're her. And she left you here all alone?"

"She didn't leave me. She's busy." He was sitting way too close now, your bare arm brushing his suit sleeve. You didn't like this and Natasha would hate it. But she probably wasn't paying attention; you hadn't caught sight of her for at least twenty minutes and when you scanned the room you didn't find fiery red hair anywhere.

Whoever this man was apparently found your answer funny because he was laughing, his alcohol soaked breath hitting your nose along with an unfortunate spray of his saliva. If you could, you would've bolted, but he'd trapped you in the booth you sat in, his arm stretched out to the table now so even the thought of trying to squeeze by him was impossible. Maybe if you were more outspoken, you'd have yelled or had some scathing remark to send him running, but you remained painfully quiet. You cursed your head for staying empty when all you wanted to do was help yourself out of an excruciatingly uncomfortable situation.

"Seems like she left you, sweetheart. Does she do that a lot? I'd never let you out of my sight. Or my bed even." You felt bile rise in your throat at the insinuation.

So absorbed in your disgust, you didn't notice the looming shadow of a certain redhead cast over the drunk party guest. "I'm sure I didn't just hear what I thought I did." The man before you went pale as a sheet, eyes wide as he turned shakily to face your girlfriend. She had her arms crossed across her chest, staring him down as if she wasn't half his height once he stood up.

While he shook in fear, safety washed over you with her mere presence and something else, something like lust flooding you at the sight of her defensive stance. Natasha always made sure to remind you of your free will, to do whatever made you happy, but you wouldn't deny that her stepping between you and your annoyance made you feel.. protected. Like something you were worth protecting. Lovingly owned.

“What was it you were saying? You’d never let her out of your sight?” Natasha went to step closer, but at some point you’d grasped her hand and held it so she could tug you closer until your head was pressed against her hip. Instinctively, you folded against her side, eyes to the ground because as safe as you felt, looking at him wasn’t a necessity anymore so you wouldn’t. Natasha’s hand came to your head, smoothing out your hair much more lovingly than the rest of her.

The poor man finally grasped how fucked he truly was, eyes darting between Natasha and over to where the rest of the guests were talking to themselves, either unaware of the situation or knowing better than to intercept Natasha. “N-No, I didn’t mean it that way. I would never-!”

“With all of the ‘never’s coming out of your mouth tonight, let me add another one to your list,” You doubted Natasha knew her hand was gripping your shoulder almost painfully now, clutching you impossibly closer as if you’d flee without her grounding you. “Never talk to my girl again. Never look at her, never think about her- nothing. Because if you do, that would be really upsetting to me and I wouldn’t be able to let that slide.” Natasha’s typically deep voice currently held more threatening energy than you’d ever heard. It scared you a bit and you vowed right then you’d try your hardest to never be the subject of her ire.

He fumbled and sputtered, scrambling for absolutely anything to say. There was nothing except, “Yes, Ms. Romanoff. S-Sorry for the confusion.” Natasha’s unwavering stare sent him running with his tail between his legs, making his way across the room as fast as his drunken gait would take him.

As soon as your problem fled, the weight of your situation hit you, tears springing to life in the corners of your eyes. “Natty…” Perfectly manicured nails moved to scratch at your scalp, the motion of her fingers soothing your worries instantly.

“Come on, my love, it’s time to go home, yeah?” Her tone was soft again, the voice reserved for you alone. You nodded her head as you mumbled an apology for ruining her dress with your running mascara, but she shushed you in an instant.

The trip home was a blur and that was alright. Natasha took care of everything, as always, and next time you truly registered your surroundings you were right where you wanted to be: home in bed with your love.

You didn’t know if you’d fallen asleep or not, but when you finally took a peek out of the far off window, it was pitch black outside. Slivers of moonlight were the only light source, just barely illuminating the sleeping features of your girlfriend’s face. Flashbacks of the night’s events played through your mind while you thought of the difference between the public persona of Natasha Romanoff, CEO and ruthless negotiator, and your Natasha, a loving partner and fierce protector. The memory of how hot she looked shielding you from harm made your legs squeeze together, a familiar tightening blooming deep in the pit of your stomach.

There was a slight element of shame tied to having been turned on by the sight of Natasha brutally cutting someone down to size, but she was doing it for you and that’s what stuck in your brain. You knew she would do anything for you, but seeing it was something else. Still, you couldn’t wake her up for just this; you’d needed enough attending that night.

Scooting back down under the blankets until everything but your head was covered, you resigned yourself to taking care of your own problems. Shy hands slid down your body, feeling the curves and slopes of your own form until you reached the top of your thighs. Typically you slept in a short nightgown, a simple pair of underwear your only other layer. Natasha’s request, of course; she loved feeling your skin against hers while you slept. Tonight was no exception and you were grateful, less fabric to contend with as your fingers slipped past the thin elastic waistband.

It felt naughty almost to have your hand buried between your legs while your girlfriend slept unaware mere inches from you, but you didn’t want to bother her and as one finger purposely just barely brushed your clit, you doubted she would want to deny you such pleasure. You gasped aloud when your fingers reached your entrance, surprised at how fast you’d grown so wet, but images of Natasha’s hardened expression had you clenching around just the tips of your digits.

“I’m not that deep of a sleeper, just so you know.” Natasha’s words held amusement so she wasn’t mad, but still you couldn’t bring yourself to meet her eyes.

Reluctantly you pulled your fingers away, wiping them on your thigh as if that would erase what you were so clearly doing. “Sorry, Nat.. I just-” But she was on you before you could finish that thought, bringing you flush against her as she swallowed your worries in her kiss. Her grip on your waist was bruising and while you still squirmed, the possession in her hold was exactly what you wanted.

Still laid on your side, Natasha pulled away just enough to look at you, your skin still clearly flushed even in the darkness of the bedroom. She maneuvered your nightgown over your hips, cupping your core in her strong palm, “Poor girl, you were bad enough off that you wanted to take care of it yourself?” It was true, it was bad; usually you asked Natasha for anything, once she’d had you, nothing compared to her touch and while she didn’t have a rule about seeking relief without her, you rarely ever did. It was never as good; she’d long since ruined you for anyone else, including yourself. “You know I would be happy to help.”

Her hand ground the soaked fabric against your sensitive folds, a clear tease just to watch you moan. She could’ve done it by now, nudged the fabric aside and plunged her fingers into you, but she didn’t. And it was on purpose. “Please, Natty?” As much as she loved you and wanted your constant happiness, she had to have some of her own- it happened to manifest in loving hearing you ask for her. There was no greater rush for Natasha knowing you were fully capable of doing things yourself, but still you relied on her. Because you needed it to be her. “Please touch me, keep me- protect me.”

That was all the pleading she needed, her free hand winding about your waist and pulling until your chests were touching. Her other arm was wedged between you now, but there was enough space for Natasha to manage, ridding you of your underwear and immediately bringing her fingers to bare skin, sliding easily through your folds. You whined at her broad strokes, touching just enough to rile you, but slow enough not to get you anywhere. “You’re so wet, and all of this is for me?”

You nodded your head against the pillows, fighting the urge to close your eyes; Natasha liked it when you looked at her. “Just for you, I’m yours, just yours…” Carefully, you started to ride Natasha’s hand, grinding against her palm desperately for any type of relief. The surface was too flat, it was her, but not what you needed and it was getting borderline painful how needy you were.

Natasha only smirked, pleased with your admission, but all too smug about how little she had to do for you to be getting off so wantonly on her open hand. Normally she’d make a show of it, make you wait until you cried out for her, but you’d had a long day so she relented. “Is this what you want?” Two fingers sunk into you humiliatingly easily, stretching your hot sex with an expert touch. Her satisfaction grew with the sound of your moan, settling into a steady pace with her thrusts. “Did you like it earlier when I came to save you?” The reactive clench around her digits was a good enough answer for her. When she curled them, your body curled with them back arching as she hit the spot you never managed to hit yourself. “Do you know why I did that?”

“N-No-” Of course Natasha knew how much you’d enjoyed her little show of possession earlier, one twitch of your jaw and she knew what was going on with you. Being known so intimately down to your very core sent a shiver down your spine and you were dangerously close to losing it now. Your hips moved in time with her hand, yearning for the high you’d tried unsuccessfully to chase on your own.

“Because you’re mine.” She maneuvered you both so that you were straddling one of her thighs, sinking deeper onto her offered fingers. Far beyond caring, your forearms settled on either side of her, close enough to breathe each other’s air while you rocked yourself back in earnest. “And I always take care of my things, don’t I?” The question was punctuated with a kiss to the corner of your open mouth, “I’m the only one who gets to see or touch you like this, I’ll make sure of it.”

Carefully chosen words brought you unknowingly higher, Natasha whispering things you were sure you’d only expressed in your wildest dreams. You rocked forward against the base of her wrist fruitlessly for any type of friction, whining at the lack of pressure. She’d been so giving tonight, surely she wouldn’t deny you just one more thing, “Nat.. Nat.. Tasha, I need-” You tried to explain what your voice couldn’t with a particularly obvious movement into her hand and Natasha’s low chuckle in your ear told you she was already well aware of your needs. “Please?”

A devious thumb made its way to your sorely neglected clit, positioning it just so. Somehow Natasha made sense of your frantic actions, pistoning her hand in time with you. “There you go, take what you need. I’m the only person who can do this for you, aren’t I?” Strained noises of agreement were music to Natasha’s ears, her lips trailing down your neck to mark you further lest you forget for a moment you’re hers alone. “Fuck yourself on my fingers. I want to see you.” Your legs clamped vice tight around hers, ass pressed against her thigh as it propped you from wiggling too far away from her.

The sensations were going to be the death of you, filled with Natasha, mouth latched to that perfect spot in the hollow behind your ear, her free arm slung around your waist to make certain you didn’t stop riding her. You were so close, chasing your high with what Natasha would remember as a whorish moan. Eventually you came with a screaming cry of her name, back arching into her prone form because in some tactical way, she could still be in full control while she laid under you.

When you finally came down, you let your top half sink, arms limp as your head fell onto her chest. Her fingers left as carefully as they could, but still you whined, more from the sudden emptiness than any pain. You felt blissfully numb, sleep already threatening at the edges of your consciousness. “Thank you, Tasha… for protecting me and also.. yeah.” Already hot cheeks burned at your sudden salacious display, but Natasha craned her neck to press a kiss to your messy hair and you let your words float away.

“You only ever have to ask, sweetheart… I’m sorry I left you all alone today.” She spoke softly to preserve the moment, pulling the blanket tighter over you before you could even possibly start to get cold. But you were already gone, drifting away to dreamland and tucked safely in Natasha’s arms. Safe and sound as always.

older!nat x younger!reader fics

under is a compilation of fics that include an age up natasha romanoff with a younger reader. read warnings for more information

older!nat gets a visit from her sunshine and gets mistaken for her daughter

the avengers flirt with reader unaware of her and natasha’s relationship

the avengers have a movie night with natasha and her little ball of sunshine sleeping against her

reader and natasha’s favourite qualities about each other

— nsfw!

coming soon

I don’t want your pity, I just want somebody near me

Natasha Romanoff x Reader 

Words: 1k 

Warnings: talks of depression/general sadness. Some swearing. Self-indulgence to the max.

A/N: This is my first fic ever so please go easy on me. Also I wrote this at 2am while listening to Mitski which is a warning all on its own.

Keep reading

ahhh imagine nat or wandanat is away on a week or two long mission and you miss them so you read fanfics about her or them and on the night she comes home you are asleep with your laptop open on your lap. as nat goes to move it she sees a fanfic about her x y/n and she finds it adorable but will tease you about it when you wake up by saying something like, “by the way detka, am i better to you in real life or on that website where you are in a fake relationship with me?” and you just turn into a stuttering mess. or she finds your laptop open with smut and finds out you have a mommy kink or something 😵‍💫

warnings: older!nat, younger!reader, size difference but like... that’s for every fanfic i write ever, dirty talk, talks about using a strap, thigh riding, talks about cum eating/play (?). NSFW

y’all the fucking warnings is sending me LMAO

You huffed at the words on your phone, it was getting too much, your girlfriend’s lack of presence was irritating, let alone frustrating as you were now basically humping your pillow in sexual frustration.

You knew you shouldn’t have read smut fanfic about her, the writers on Tumblr were too good. You had read one where she had tied up the ‘reader’ and fucked her with a strap until she basically passed out and while you knew Natasha isn’t the type to push you that far, you wished you could feel what her you had felt against you once more.

But no, she had another week in Mexico, she needed to finish this mission and well, you needed to finish your homework. You tried, but it wasn’t eventful as you could focus without having a fucking flashback to an image of your girlfriend eating your cunt out between your legs, or to how you would scratch her back as she fucked you senseless.

And now as you laid there, tears swelling in your eyes, you huffed and puffed and gotten comfortable in your bed and decided to sleep, unaware of the light of your phone as it was still on.

-

When Natasha arrived home, a faint ache to her back, she journeyed up the stairs to your shared room with her.

It was just on the break of dawn when she returned so when she entered her bedroom and found fast asleep, she wasn’t surprised that you were so deep in your slumber that your phone was still on.

But as she tucked you in and pulled your phone away, she caught a glimpse of her name written in various paragraphs which caught her attention. Her emerald eyes glazed over the screen, curious to what you had been reading, Natasha found the words “Y/n” and her name typed up onto some scenario where fictional her was fucking fictional “reader”.

Natasha grinned when it hit her. Her girlfriend was reading a smut fanfiction about her... while she was on a mission. Natasha assumed it was because you had missed her more than usual, and the fact that you couldn’t even have phone sex with her made it worse.

Once she turned the phone off, her smile reached her face as she saw you fast asleep. She slipped in beside you soon after, she’ll tease you about it tomorrow.

-

When you woke up the next morning expecting a cold bed beside you, you weren’t expecting warmth and a large body curled up next to you.

Your eyes fluttered open and softly, you stretched your arms wide open as you turned and realized your girlfriend was home a week earlier than expected.

You threw yourself at her, burying your face deep into the crook of her neck and smiling. She smelled good, she must’ve taken a shower before she left for the plane and regardless, she was here.

She was apparently awake as the older woman hugged you in return, her large muscly arms tight around your small stature made you whimper. Unknowingly to Natasha, her thigh had slipped between your legs and accidentally pressed up against your core, you sighed, a shiver up your spine making your shake.

“Good morning,” she greeted you with a smile to her tone and never let you go, “was your dreams just as good as the fanfiction you were reading about me?”

You stilled in her hold and flushed, your cheeks warmed and your hid deeper into your girlfriend’s neck out of embarrassment.

“You weren’t supposed to see that?”

“Well, I did,” her grin was still present, “I bet I could fuck you better than what they did in that story.”

“D-Don’t say that...”

“Why not?” You whimpered when Natasha pressed her thigh further against you, making you realize that it hadn’t been an accident at all. “Does it make you wet thinking about my fingers fucking this pussy open?”

“Tasha...” You frowned and shook your head. “It’s not fair.”

The older woman chuckled. “What’s not fair, baby?”

“I haven’t been able to get off... I couldn’t even call you to guide me.” Natasha could hear the genuine sadness and frustration present in your voice and while it was partially entertaining, she couldn’t leave you high and dry. Her thigh forced you to ground yourself on her and one of her hands left your head to grip your hips to help you.

“I’m here now, princess.” She dragged your hips against her right, she was wearing shorts, you were merely wearing her shirt and just a pair of panties. Natasha could feel your arousal smearing against her pale skin, it was sticky, and somehow audibly loud as you starting riding her thigh. “Is this better than that fanfiction you’ve read?”

You nodded, breathing her scent in and grasping onto the fabric of her cropped shirt. There wasn’t much, meaning as you pulled on her top, it drew up and revealed her toned abs and the underside of her breast.

“What were you even reading about?” She was teasing you, but you didn’t care, you just wanted to get off, you wanted to cum on her thighs, make it sticky with your finish and have her make you lick it off her skin.

“The reader was caught...” You whimpered when you hit that good spot. “She was masturbating a-and... Oh God— You caught her f-fingering herself and you w-wanted to help.”

Natasha gripped your ass, her hand splayed over the curve of your bottom as she helped you ride her thigh up and down. You were going faster, harder, and you were drenching your panties and she could feel you getting near.

And as she tugged on the roots of your hair and pulled your head back, she caught sight of your face, your lips parted in euphoria, eyes shut just as your lashes fanned your cheeks. The moans you were letting out were animalistic, dangerous, and your chest was heaving.

All the while your hand was snuck around her, gripping on to her body for dear god as your hips came to a stuttering stop.

“Better than any fanfic?”

You nodded with a looped smile, nuzzling your cheek against your lover’s shoulder. “Yes... so much more.”

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.

Family of two

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: When thinking about your future with Natasha, you worry that she might want kids someday; while you don't.

Requested by anon: So basically, Reader loves being an Avenger but loves Natasha more than anything. But there’s something that always has reader thinking she’ll never be enough for the red head. And it’s that Reader doesn’t ever want to have kids. She loves the Barton kids with all her heart but doesn’t want to be a mom ever. And because of that, feels she is not worthy to be with Natasha. So Nat starts to notice reader being sad and when she confronts her about it, all feelings come out. Reader even suggests letting Nat go so she can be with someone who wants a family, but…maybe Natasha reassures her that she wants reader? That reader is her family and she’s more than enough?

A/N: The long-awaited "Kids" WIP :p. I love this request because it hits home to me, I never ever want kids. So I'm sorry it took me a while to post it, I do hope you like it, my sweet anon <3. I have the distant feeling that, by my writing here, you can tell just how much I love Nat.

Masterlist

Believe it or not, even an Avenger needs a summer break sometimes. A moment to be able to relax and forget about the weight of the world. That's why you and your favorite person, Natasha, are spending a weekend at Clint's farmhouse, before moving on to the rest of your little vacation plan.

It was Clint's idea and you were happy to oblige, as was Natasha. You loved spending time at their house, both for the good company and breathtaking scenario. The green plains and trees all around were captivating, and the rustic structure of the house provided a cozy and familiar feeling you sometimes missed back at the Compound.

An easy smile came to you as Natasha entertained Nathaniel, the youngest of Clint's kids. Laura was making dinner with Clint by her side as moral support, mostly.

You observed from the couch. Laura dropped the vegetables in the pan as Clint rounded her with a steady hand on her waist and a kiss on her cheek, attending to his daughter's call about the TV that seemed to be acting up. And Natasha, she had a beautiful smile on as she tickled the smallest kid, his laughter mixing with her own.

The sight of your girlfriend made your heart drum in your ears. It's been two years, and yet, every time she glanced your way with that much adoration, it felt like you were back in that first week. Maybe that's what love is all about, no matter how long it passes, the giddiness of being loved by the person that holds your heart never goes away.

You glanced down at your hands, picking at your fingers. You could see yourself living a life like this, a peaceful one. With a farmhouse in a beautiful country side, you would happily indulge and you knew Natasha would as well. Except, not with children.

The thought has been on your mind for a while. You never wished for kids and you knew you never would. Since you were young you already knew that about yourself and it was not something you wanted to change.

Moving your eyes back up, you were met with Nat's gaze searching for yours in a silent question. You gave her a smile and lightly shook your head. You never talked about having kids with her, even if you noticed how much she liked Clint's kids. You wondered if it was something she wanted for herself.

You took a deep breath, feeling a small weight of anxiousness drop at your stomach. The last thing you wanted was to hold her back. Natasha deserved the world, and you often caught yourself wondering if you were enough to give it to her.

"Dinner's ready everyone." Laura called out and everyone rushed to the table. You were the last one to sit down and the last one to leave, remaining mostly quiet through the meal. Your thoughts were loud tonight. You did feel Natasha's eyes on you.

You went up to the guest room not long after, taking a shower and preparing yourself for a good night of sleep. Natasha was sitting on the bed when you came out of the shower, her towel and pajamas laying beside her.

She extended her hands out to you, making your body gravitate towards her. She closed her arms around your waist when you walked up to her.

You ran your fingers through her red hair, it was getting longer, starting to go way past her shoulders. Your lips tilted up in a lovesick smile.

She looked up at you from her sitting position, her chin resting on your stomach. "Are you okay? You've been quiet tonight."

You paused for a second, your hand coming to her cheek. You dismissed her worry with a smile. "I'm alright, love." You leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Now take a shower and come to bed, I want cuddles."

Natasha chuckled with your words, she got up and her hands never left your waist. She kissed your lips before gathering her things and going to the bathroom.

________

Every morning that you woke up with Natasha's arms around you felt like a dream. To be able to see her green eyes glistening in the early sunlight, her hair taking in vivid tones of orange, and her sleepy voice mumbling a good morning. To you, it was a dream.

Every morning you pulled her body impossibly closer to yours, kissing her collarbone and telling her how much you loved her as your lips grazed her skin. Because Natasha deserved nothing less.

You walked down the stairs to eat breakfast, your hand loosely holding hers. The windows were open and there was a chilly breeze coming through, making the leaves rustle outside. You could barely hear birds singing in the distance amidst the voices of the kids talking amongst themselves.

After breakfast, Lila decided she wanted to show you and Natasha a bird's nest that recently hatched its eggs. You watched amusedly as Natasha entertained the young girl's excitement, as well as returned the hug Nathaniel gave to her legs when you came back from the forest.

By lunch, the nagging thought at the back of your mind came back. And you were careless enough to let your distress show on your face, or maybe Natasha came to know you too well.

You walked inside the house to grab the rice that Laura had prepared earlier, everyone was outside enjoying the sun as Clint grilled up some steaks. You made your way to the kitchen, but a firm hand on your waist pulled you aside to one of the not-so-used corridors.

Natasha had you pinned against the wall, one of her hands resting on the wall beside your head, blocking your way out. You gulped when you saw that her eyes held no malice.

"Be honest with me, детка. Are you okay?" Her words were soft-spoken, and her eyes were searching your face in worry.

A breath left your lips and you looked down. Your hands loosely tugged at the ends of Nat's shirt to keep yourself busy. "I've just- I've been thinking about something."

You felt Natasha gently tracing your jaw with her other hand. "You can talk to me, if you want to."

You bit your lip, much to your dismay you could feel the distant sting of tears in your eyes. "I- do you want kids, Nat?" You breathed out, grimacing at the terrible way you voiced your thoughts.

Closing your eyes, you shook your head urging yourself to focus a little. "I mean, I see how much you like Clint's kids. And I can't help but wonder if that's something you want?"

You panicked when she didn't answer you right away, your mouth opening and closing. She was frowning at your words and that didn't look good. "It's just that, I don't think I can… Give that to you." Your voice became quieter, your hands were now clutching at her shirt.

"I'm sorry." You whispered to her. Natasha opened her mouth to answer you, but you talked first. "I never saw myself with kids but, I don't- I don't want to hold you back Nat. I won't be upset if you don't want to be with me anymore I-"

Natasha cut off your rambling when both her hands cupped your cheeks, her thumbs brushed away the stray tears you didn't notice had started to fall. "моя любовь, breathe." She whispered, her forehead coming to rest against yours.

You let out a trembled breath. Maybe this was bothering you more than you realized. Your hands held onto her waist more gently, pulling her closer to you.

Once Natasha felt that you had calmed down, she pulled away only to look into your eyes. "I do like them, Y/N. But that doesn't mean I want kids of my own."

Her hand brushed against your cheek tenderly, she gave a quick peck on your lips before continuing. "детка, you will always be the only family I'll ever need. If it's just you and me, that's more than enough."

Nat smiled adoringly at you, successfully melting your heart. "I don't need anyone else if I have you."

Natasha's words took your breath away, along with your ability to speak. You pulled her to you with a strong grip, pressing your lips to hers in a passionate kiss. Her hand came to the back of your head and tangled into your hair, as your tongue gently grazed her bottom lip.

Your lips moved in synch until the lack of air was too much to bear. "I love you. So much." You breathed out against her mouth, refusing to move away from her more than necessary. You felt her huge smile against you.

"The steak is gonna burn and I still don't see the rice anywhere." Clint shouted from outside, making you both giggle.

"I'm coming." You called out to him, biting your lip as you interlocked your fingers with Natasha's and pulled her towards the kitchen and then outside.

Natasha too would always be the only family you'd ever need.

—⧗—

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black widow but it’s just chaos

(or: yelena belova being a child for 7 minutes straight)

That's all I have to say