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Natasha - Blog Posts
no fucking way I was right
HELLO??? CHECKPOINT RED ACTUALLY IS NATASHA???
Y/n : I'll let you know I drive a very hard bargain
Loki : I have a KitKat and 50 cents
Y/n : ... I'll take the coin
Y/n : LETS GO KILL SOME BITCHES
Natasha in the other room : that's not a good sign
Natasha : “If any of you cross me, I’m gonna kick the testicles clean off your body. Clean off. You’ll look like Ken dolls down there."
The Mascot
If Natasha were a fangirl, she'd have called Clint's eyes Cerulean-blue orbs.
But she's not a fangirl. She's a spy. So what she sees is fear. And insomnia. And a need for coffee.
So in the coffee goes, black and strong, with a little bit of sugar, and maybe a hint of cinnamon. Into the cup that says, Surely Not Everybody was Kung-fu Fighting?
Well, everybody usually is. But not now.
The cup slides across the table, and Clint's eyes ask, Why?
Because. She can see him wanting to tear his eyes out. She can see him looking for Loki in himself.
Clint takes a nice, long sip, and smiles.
It doesn't reach his eyes anymore.
i read your dog tags fic and i have always thought the whole dog tags thing is hot but you think you could do one w natasha? an au where she was a soldier or wte and just a different plot or something idc i just think it’d be so hot for natasha
i don't really know about soldier type stuff so i did it as though she got the dog tags from working at shield - hope that's okay anyway :)
original dog tags fic with carol danvers is here
quiet
natasha romanoff x reader
warnings - smut; daddy kink, thigh riding, necklace as a gag, top!natasha, kinda sex in a public place, i think that's it
word count - 1149
The mission today had been emotionally exhausting for you considering your history with Hydra, having to go back to the base you’d been imprisoned in until just a few years ago. It had gone well though, nobody was injured, you just felt a little down.
You sighed as you slumped into the seat beside Natasha, instantly seeking comfort by resting your head on her shoulder, she kissed your head as you nuzzled into her neck readying for the long flight back.
“You okay, princess?” She murmured against you, feeling the shrug you gave her in response, trailing her fingers over your back down to your hip. “Want me to make you feel better?”
You hummed against her neck pressing a kiss to the skin beneath her ear, “Please daddy, make me feel good.” You mumbled beside her ear with a pout, she choked back a groan at the back of her throat at the words, digging her fingers into your hip to pull you up with her.
Neither of you paid any mind to the others, not caring of any funny looks you may have been receiving as she pulled you towards a secluded area of the quinjet out of sight; she pushed your back against a wall peppering kisses over your face, melding her lips with yours eagerly.
She held you by your waist as she kissed along your jaw, grazing her teeth over your skin as you held her close to your body, desperately clinging to her as though she could float away. Your needy hands wandered, fiddling with the zip of her tactical suit and tugging it down letting your hands brush over the soft skin of her chest, the glistening silver metal of her dog tags she’s worn since she joined Shield dangling against her, resting in the valley of her breasts.
She held the back of your head when you kissed across the skin, sucking at the flesh of her breasts that spilled out of the top of her bra, letting you revel in the taste of her skin - wanting anything to help you feel better. She yanked you back by your hair with a hiss at an overly eager bite to her skin, a dark mark no doubt being left behind.
You pouted to her innocently with your lips swollen red, mischievous smirk tugging at your mouth when she looked at you with a glare, eyes darkened and lustful. She pulled the zip of your suit, yanking the material down your body exposing your bra clad torso, closing the space between you with her lips attacking your neck. She slipped her hand beneath your bra, roughly pinching your nipple between her thumb and finger with a twist only tugging on it more at the sound of a whimper falling from your lips.
“So pretty baby, falling apart under my touch like this already. You’re desperate, hm?” She rasped, her lips brushing over the shell of your ear.
“Mhm, just wanna feel good. Make me forget, daddy - please.” You pleaded, goosebumps raising over your skin when she scratched her nails down your body pushing your suit further past your hips.
“Focus on me, princess. By the end of the night you’ll know nothing but my name.”
Your hips bucked up into hers involuntarily at the way she growled out her words before crashing her lips to yours, frenzied and eager kisses as she danced her fingers beneath the hem of your underwear, teasingly stroking over your clit.
“I need you, Natty, please.” You whined out in frustration, feeling her smirk against your chest as she slid her fingers through your wet slit, plunging two fingers into you without a warning. You gasped out at the contact, her digits immediately curling inside you, brushing against your g-spot and the heel of her palm perfectly positioned over your clit.
You put all of your focus into trying to be quiet, trying to be consumed only by the way Natasha pumped her fingers into you with a sublime rhythm and her lips kissed over your neck but the added pang of arousal from the grunt she let out beside your ear made it impossible to swallow the moan at the back of your throat. She’d positioned herself over your thigh, grinding on your leg in a way that had her suit rubbing against her clit magnificently.
She stilled all movement to look at you with green eyes glazed over with arousal, “Quiet, baby - can’t have the others hearing all your pretty sounds.” She murmured, bringing the pendant of her dog tags to your lips. “Open.” She instructed, shoving the metal past your lips watching as you latched your lips around it with a suck. “Good girl, baby, stay quiet for daddy.”
The metal was cold against your tongue, clicking under your teeth as you bit into it to quell the feeble whimpers begging to tumble past your lips. Your nails dug into her shoulder blades as her fingers pulled you closer and closer to your climax and your face grew hot at the way you could hear her fingers pushing into you; she could feel how wet you were, how close you were, slowing her movements agonisingly.
“Hold it, baby, wanna cum with you.” She breathed, her hips moving rapidly in stuttered pushes along your thigh, her breath growing heavier by the minute.
When she could feel her orgasm fast approaching she quickened her pushes into you, your hips bucked forward to match her rhythm, chasing your release by grinding your aching clit against her palm. Natasha muffled her loud moan as she came with a harsh bite into the flesh of your shoulder, harsh enough to draw blood in tooth mark grooves, low whimpers at the back of her throat as she tried to catch her breath.
“That’s it, princess.” She cooed as she felt a gush of wetness over her fingers, your hips still moving lazily against her as the overwhelming pleasure brought tears to your eyes; biting down hard onto the pendant in your mouth with a pull that dug the chain into the back of her neck. “So good, so good for me angel.” She praised, planting kisses over your warm cheeks, holding your limp body up as your chest rose and fell in a chase for oxygen.
She pulled the necklace from your mouth gently, a string of saliva following it and coating your swollen lips, brushing stray hairs out of your face. She held your waist as she pulled her fingers from you, pleased at how they glistened in the light, humming in delight as she sucked your cum from them, looking forward to tasting you properly later.
“Thank you.” You mumbled out meekly, returning the smile Natasha gave you easily.
“My pleasure, baby.” She smirked. “I was only getting started. I’m gonna fuck every thought out of that pretty head.”
dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light - N.R.
(Part of my Red (Taylor's Version) fics)
Song - All Too Well
Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Summary - You can't sleep so Natasha calms you in the way she knows helps best -- I just love soft Nat so much and her singing to you would be so comforting and cute omg
Warnings - none, pure fluff :')
Word Count - 1003
You couldn't sleep. Lying on your back with a frustrated huff and staring up at the glow in the dark stars and planets stickers you'd dotted around; Natasha laughed one day as she walked into your shared bedroom to find you balancing on a chair that you had balanced on your bed, tongue poked out of your mouth in concentration as you stuck them up one by one. She helped you keep your balance, not entirely thrilled at the childish décor you were pasting over what once was her ceiling but loving it - and you - nonetheless.
You looked to the figure beside you, the redhead sleeping peacefully lying on her side with her hands tucked beneath her cheek, squishing her face in such an adorable way. You smiled at how sweet she looked, truly enamoured by the woman next to you; the way her soft and gentle side is reserved for you, the way she slowly opened herself up to you and let you love her and see her vulnerable. You felt privileged and lucky to be hers the same way she was yours.
You'd been unable to sleep for a while now, tossing and turning but not being able to switch your mind off enough to doze off. And your stomach was begging for a midnight snack - who are you to refuse? You moved carefully so as to not knock into Natasha as you climbed out of bed, the large t-shirt you were wearing falling to your mid thigh and the rest of your legs bare.
You tiptoed to the door, pulling it open as quietly as possible whilst checking on the woman behind you - she was still sleeping soundly, success. You continued your actions in an equally silent manner, shutting cupboards and drawers with the utmost care as you fetched out what you needed, working in the dark as you knew your way round in such a state. Slowly placing the plate onto the counter to minimise and noise, spreading peanut butter onto some bread for a sandwich - Nat will be so jealous, you thought with a smirk, taking a bite.
The downside to peanut butter sandwiches though is how dry they are, so you went to the fridge seeking the container of orange juice. Though, as you were searching you felt a warm presence by your hand. Turning, you saw the smug face of your girlfriend retreating from the sandwich in your hand which now had another large bite missing from it, you gasped mockingly with a shake of your head as she held back a laugh - both of you keeping quiet as the others slept.
"Trouble sleeping, krasivaya dorogaya?" She whispered as you poured some of the juice into a glass.
"Yeah and I wanted a snack." You returned, making her smile.
"You could have woken me." She added, taking the glass from your hand and taking a sip - she knows you have trouble sleeping and there's one thing she does that helps calm you enough to grow sleepy.
"I couldn't, you looked too cute." You smiled, looking at her smiling back at you, face illuminated by the glow of the light streaming from the open refrigerator. You walked back to the fridge to put the container of juice back, taking another bite of your sandwich and giving the rest to Natasha who took it happily and finished it off. "How can you look so good when you've just woken up in the middle of the night?" You questioned, cupping her cheek in your palm. "A masterpiece." You whispered, a blush and a grin crawling across her cheeks before she pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.
She separated your mouths but kept your foreheads pressed together, her hands holding softly onto your waist as she began to sway your bodies side to side. You turned your head, resting it on her chest so her chin rested on your head, your hands looping around her body and holding onto her back. You gently swayed from left to right, Natasha's soothing voice breaking the silence as she began to lowly sing.
For you, there'll be no more crying
For you, the sun will be shining
And I feel that when I'm with you
It's alright, I know it's right
She sang the lyrics in just above a whisper, so serene and tender as you held onto her. The thoughts racing throughout your head slowly fading away as she brought your focus to her, listening to the peaceful singing of the love of your life.
To you, I'll give the world
To you, I'll never be cold
'Cause I feel that when I'm with you
It's alright, I know it's right
You couldn't help but quietly hum along to her words, smiling into her chest as she stroked your hair, bodies still swaying in a placid dance as you held onto one another - no other place you'd rather be.
And the songbirds are singing,
Like they know the score
And I love you, I love you, I love you
Like never before
You were finally feeling peaceful, smiling against her skin as your eyes slowly grew heavier.
And I wish you all the love in the world
But most of all, I wish it from myself
She walked you back to your room, holding you from behind with her hands tightly holding around your waist and her chin resting on your shoulder, pressing small kisses on your cheek every few steps. Climbing into bed behind you and going back to holding you as soon as you lay on your side, with your back pressed against her front and her legs entwined with yours. Her fingers softly stroking strands of your hair as she whispered the last lines of the song, you eyes drifting closed not long before she fell back to sleep.
And the songbirds keep singing
Like they know the score
And I love you, I love you, I love you
Like never before, like never before,
Like never before
Translation krasivaya dorogaya - beautiful darling ALSO the song used was Songbird by Fleetwood Mac :) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTi19MPOvDw
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
Interlude
Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff
Word Count: 3.4K
A/N: This is part of another fic challenge with @quietlyimplode. This is set after Black Widow for Natasha and after the Raft for Wanda.
Wanda could feel the aching sting of where the dampening collar had once sat around her neck.
Her skin buzzed as she stumbled to her feet.
Her mind buzzed too. Power flooded back into her veins like a broken dam. She stretched out each of her fingers unsurely. The relief was overwhelming, but it wasn’t enough.
Keep reading
Gentleness
Soft!Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Word Count: 1k
A/N: Fluff, Natasha gets a migraine and tries to hide it. Based on a lovely request.
Natasha was definitely sick. You noticed in the morning, but you were wise enough now not to point it out.
When she could barely keep her eyes open during lunch, Natasha finally admitted that she had a headache.
You rubbed small circles on Natasha’s back, filled with quiet concern as her shoulders hunched forward with discomfort.
You didn’t correct her, but you knew it wasn’t just a headache.
Keep reading
She’s Everything
Soft!Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Word Count: 2K
A/N: Based on a lovely request. Please enjoy some fluff. Based on song of the same name.
Not all secrets are intentional.
It hadn’t made sense to tell the others when you’d started dating Natasha. Things felt tentative anyway.
There was a softness with Natasha that you’d only guessed at before.
She was hesitant before every date.
————-
She knocked on your door before the first one.
You were going to the cinema, Natasha had invited you over text. It was more than friendship, but you weren’t quite sure what else it could be yet.
Natasha met your gaze when you opened your door. She smiled nervously and you realised that this was the side of her that she didn’t normally share.
Her hands were buried deep in her jacket’s pockets and, when you told her that she looked great, she glanced shyly at the ground.
Keep reading
A Case of You
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Word Count: 2.5K
A/N: A soft angst kinda one shot. Reader used to date Natasha and gets a call from her during the night. Mentions alcohol and toxic past relationships.
She called you in the night. You answered. You always answered, but it felt dirty.
Keep reading
no bones
content warnings: no smut but reference to it, also mommy kink, nat comforts you by… being a shitty gf lol
a/n: ive opened 3 word docs to write diff things and its not coming out bc ive been haha sad af so i wrote this mediocre gfs fic, as usual ur both terrible gfs on paper but in practice it… works out actually
Keep reading
Naughty Girls
You and your mommy, Natasha, have some fun during movie time. Until you misbehave.
Mommy kink, man handling, se*x toy usage (dildo), implied age gap, reader gets penetrated, vaginal penetration, coc*k warming, grinding, thigh riding, sex with clothes on, WLW sex, Natasha gives reader neck hickies, Reader gets called puppy, baby, honey and little girl, reader comes without permission, implied mutual consent, degradation, squirting, light begging, implied punishment, reader misbehaves, implied rules
Hurrah! I'm alive! Thank you for being patient :)💕
You do not have permission to translate and or repost this story thank you :)
Your head felt warm and fuzzy, a tingling sensation rippling up and down your spine. A warm chuckle sounded from beside you. "Is my little girl having some fun?"
The TV was still on, a natural wildlife documentary you had quickly forgotten about. You whimpered softly, still feeling dizzy and near drunk from the cock that Natasha had pushed into you. Warm wet slick smeared over your soft inner thighs, shorts and hoodie uncomfortably hot despite the cool night air.
"My baby still needs to learn some manners apparently." You could hear the smirk in her voice. "Use your big girl words, honey."
---
"Mommy-" you whined softly in frustration, hips grinding down against the sofa covers.
"Please, please."
Her arms tightly wrapped around your waist before you were settled in her lap. Mommy's knee wedged itself between your thighs, smoothly grinding against the dildo's base. Natasha's eyes were bright, pinning you in place easily. She smiled. The flickering lights from the TV wreathed her fluffy baby hairs.
The short rocking motions increased the pressure inside you, silicone ridges dragging and pushing. A needy keen escaped from your parted mouth, head falling back in pleasure.
Natasha apparently wasn't satisfied, pulling you forward onto her thigh. Her large callused hands slayed out over your waist before forcefully grinding your hips in tight circles. Mommy harshly sucked marks into your skin. Your swollen clit rubbed against soaked panties.
"Does that feel good puppy?" The coil in your tummy writhed and twisted tightly, pussy clamping against the toy. Your head felt hazy, hands clumsily fisted in Natasha's shirt.
The pleasure crested and then burst abruptly. You whined and moaned needily as your pussy clenched and fluttered against the toy, wanting more as you tried to grind down on Mommy. A warm wetness seeped out from around the toy.
Natasha's hands tightened painfully around your hips. "Little girl-" Her tone was dark yet amused. "Did I say you could cum?"
Your eyes widened when you realised your mistake. Mommy's smile grew wider.
All Too Well
College!Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Word Count: 5K
A/N: Happy Birthday @reminiscingtonight. You’re the best, I hope you have a year as awesome as you. Despite the title, this is all fluff. I hope you like it!
Sophomore year of college was not going to plan. It hadn’t even started yet. You’d made the choice not to apply for dorms. Instead, you’d made plans with your two best friends from freshman freshman. The three of you had been inseparable for two semesters, and it made perfect sense to rent an off campus house together.
As the summer went on, it started to feel like you were the only one in the group still excited for the experience of living together. You found yourself sending links for potential houses into the group chat, only to be left on read.
Keep reading
Naughty Girls
You and your mommy, Natasha, have some fun during movie time. Until you misbehave.
Mommy kink, man handling, se*x toy usage (dildo), implied age gap, reader gets penetrated, vaginal penetration, coc*k warming, grinding, thigh riding, sex with clothes on, WLW sex, Natasha gives reader neck hickies, Reader gets called puppy, baby, honey and little girl, reader comes without permission, implied mutual consent, degradation, squirting, light begging, implied punishment, reader misbehaves, implied rules
Hurrah! I'm alive! Thank you for being patient :)💕
You do not have permission to translate and or repost this story thank you :)
Your head felt warm and fuzzy, a tingling sensation rippling up and down your spine. A warm chuckle sounded from beside you. "Is my little girl having some fun?"
The TV was still on, a natural wildlife documentary you had quickly forgotten about. You whimpered softly, still feeling dizzy and near drunk from the cock that Natasha had pushed into you. Warm wet slick smeared over your soft inner thighs, shorts and hoodie uncomfortably hot despite the cool night air.
"My baby still needs to learn some manners apparently." You could hear the smirk in her voice. "Use your big girl words, honey."
---
"Mommy-" you whined softly in frustration, hips grinding down against the sofa covers.
"Please, please."
Her arms tightly wrapped around your waist before you were settled in her lap. Mommy's knee wedged itself between your thighs, smoothly grinding against the dildo's base. Natasha's eyes were bright, pinning you in place easily. She smiled. The flickering lights from the TV wreathed her fluffy baby hairs.
The short rocking motions increased the pressure inside you, silicone ridges dragging and pushing. A needy keen escaped from your parted mouth, head falling back in pleasure.
Natasha apparently wasn't satisfied, pulling you forward onto her thigh. Her large callused hands slayed out over your waist before forcefully grinding your hips in tight circles. Mommy harshly sucked marks into your skin. Your swollen clit rubbed against soaked panties.
"Does that feel good puppy?" The coil in your tummy writhed and twisted tightly, pussy clamping against the toy. Your head felt hazy, hands clumsily fisted in Natasha's shirt.
The pleasure crested and then burst abruptly. You whined and moaned needily as your pussy clenched and fluttered against the toy, wanting more as you tried to grind down on Mommy. A warm wetness seeped out from around the toy.
Natasha's hands tightened painfully around your hips. "Little girl-" Her tone was dark yet amused. "Did I say you could cum?"
Your eyes widened when you realised your mistake. Mommy's smile grew wider.
@blooodwords This is amazing! I really love the natural push and pull of their relationship and don't apologise for the plot it is so interesting!! I'm super excited for the next chapters (no rush💕) I am curious as to why Natasha doesn't touch the reader sexually though? Is it a personal preference or something else? Either way, best of luck with future writing endeavours!🥰
part 2 to gun smut?
i need to know why r is so fucky in the head 😭
a/n: yeah ok let's fuckin go. sorry to disappoint but this one does not actually include gunplay. and it's sorta plot heavy — i got a lil carried away. also please excuse any mistakes as it is long past my bedtime.
home of blood and bone.
RATING: E FOR EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT (18+ ... MINORS DNI).
PART ONE ... PART TWO.
natasha x fem!reader ; natasha pries her way into your past, into your biology, and into your future. and you let her.
warnings: nsfw, semi-explicit violence, explicit smut, knifeplay, lil bit of blood.
i do take requests but please give this a read before doing so!
a“How was the psych eval?”
Natasha Romanoff lingers in your doorway with a mug of coffee and a scowl.
“Thorough,” you tell her without looking up from your workbench. You’ve been toying with the grappling hook launch controls on your utility belt for the better part of an hour.
“Big man says you were difficult.”
You were not.
You’d make that clear if you cared, but you don’t. And if Tony Stark cared about your difficulties he’d pull you from the roster. Fact that you’ve got a seven am mission briefing the next day tells you everything you need to know.
A noncommittal noise falls from your lips to fill the silence.
Natasha steps into the room. The door clicks shut behind her. “Were you actually difficult?” Her tone softens. You don’t like that. “Or was it your charming brevity? I know talking’s not your favorite thing.”
In that moment you don’t like that she knows you and you really don't like that there isn’t a way to tell her as much without sounding like a grade-a asshole. Not that she would mind—you really doubt she would—but you’re still stuck on that pesky wanting to please her thing. It’s been seventy-two hours since the day in the jet and you still haven’t figured out a way to force her from your mind. And to think you used to be so good at pushing people away.
“Dunno, Nat,” you mumble, huffing. You push a torx driver a little too hard into a screw and the panel it secures sprouts a hairline crack. “Motherf—what more do you people want from me? I answered their questions.”
Natasha drops a tablet onto the workbench and taps the screen.
Security cam footage.
You grit your teeth and wish Natasha wasn’t over your shoulder, watching you watch this.
Conference room four.
An unremarkable woman in a pencil skirt sits across from you with a legal pad and a pen.
You’re stone-faced and still, hands clasped in your lap, looking right at her.
“Do you experience compulsive thoughts relating to the incident that took the lives of your parents?”
“No.”
“Do you suffer from nightmares about the incident that took the lives of your parents?”
“No.”
“Do you experience flashbacks to the incident? By this I mean—”
“I know what you mean. And no.”
“If something happens that reminds you of the incident, does it trigger an intense emotional response?”
Yes. Sometimes. But you’re careful not to show it.
“No.”
“Do you actively avoid things that remind you of the incident?”
“No.”
True. You tend to seek them out.
“Have you experienced generalized anxiety since the incident?”
“No.”
True enough.
“Trouble sleeping?”
“No.”
That one, at the very least, is only half a lie.
“Do you startle easily?”
“No.”
True.
“Do you feel that the—”
“Say the word incident one more time and I’m gonna flip my fucking lid. I don’t have PTSD.”
“What does that mean, ‘flip your lid?’”
“Get violent. I don’t know.”
“Are you stating that you intend to inflict violence upon me if I continue administering this evaluation?”
“No. I don’t—don’t hurt people who don’t deserve it.”
“Who does deserve it?”
Bullshit question.
She’s leading you.
It’s fine.
“Nobody at present,” you tell her.
“Who deserved it in the past?”
You shift in your seat, crossing your arms, trapping your hands between your elbows and ribs.
They already know. This lady, Tony, all of them. You don’t think there’s a single person on the compound who hasn’t read your file.
“Family.”
“Whose family?”
“Mine.”
“When you speak of your family do you include yourself?”
There it is.
You smile, mocking and sweet, and, “Obviously,” you say.
The video stops.
Natasha spins you around in your chair and clamps her hands on your shoulders. She’s the first person to touch your skin, your actual body, no barriers, since the day on the jet. All at once you wish you were wearing more than a tank top and wish she’d never stop touching you.
“By that logic,” she says, “your own logic, you deserve to be dead.”
“By the logic of all the world, actually,” you say, “yes. I should’ve been dead the day my family was. Don’t think it takes a professional to figure that out.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use so many words at once.”
You roll your eyes.
“Look at me,” Natasha says next, and doesn’t speak again until you do. “I know you’re fucked up—so am I. It sort of comes with being one of us. And—”
“Your point?”
“Don’t be a jackass,” she says, laying a firm pat on your cheek that feels more like a slap than you were expecting. “I’m trying to tell you that the deaths of your parents are in the past. It’s done. But the idea that you’re walking around wishing you were dead, too? Not okay.”
“Right.”
“We need you.”
“That so?”
It’s true enough.
Tony wouldn’t have recruited you if you weren’t valuable, if you couldn’t do things nobody else could. You’re so ingrained in the operations of the Avengers that at this point, yeah, they probably do need you. Teams are reliant on their members, and whether you like it or not the Avengers are the only people who haven’t kicked you to the curb the moment they found out what exactly is in your past.
It isn’t until Natasha says, “Listen to me. It wasn’t your fault, and you shouldn’t torture yourself over it,” that you realize how wrong you are.
Your eyes narrow.
In less than a millisecond you make a weighted decision.
Your hands knock hers from your shoulders. You need space between the two of you if you’re going to let this conversation unfold. You don’t want her that close when you confide, you don’t think you could handle watching her recoil.
“What do you know about the deaths of my parents?”
Natasha furrows her brow, says, “They were shot point-blank by a HYDRA rogue after refusing to turn over their research on genetic engineering.”
You don’t know why you want to tell her.
You know it’ll ruin everything.
But if Natasha doesn't know, who else is in the dark?
You don’t want to spend your time around a team that doesn’t even know the fundamentals of your history. You want them to know exactly what you are, and if after that they still want you to stay? You will.
“I was never a rogue,” you tell her, gritting your teeth, “and I was never HYDRA.”
Natasha steps back. “You—?”
“And they didn’t refuse to turn over anything.” Your voice is thickening, getting rough around the edges. “I didn’t even ask for it, I’d already seen it all.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
It isn’t pity that she’s looking at you with but you can’t place whatever it is and that alone makes you want to put your head through a wall.
“I’m saying that I was an experiment. Bred in a lab to be the perfect, indestructible child. You had the Red Room, I had the house I grew up in.”
“But” — she’s pacing, never getting any closer to you than where she started — “you aren’t indestructible. I know you aren’t.”
“They made a mistake in my genetic code. I can bleed if I want to, I can feel pain under the right circumstances, but I’m not sure that I can die. And—”
It clicks so plainly on her face.
“You want to find out,” Natasha finishes for you. She comes to a stop, studying you from across the room, and you can see her putting the pieces together like you’re right there in her mind. “You didn’t kill your parents. You killed your captors.”
“You killed Dreykov.”
“…Touché.”
/
“You altered my file. Why?”
“I didn’t think you’d want to walk in here as the mommy and daddy killer. Was I wrong?”
He wasn’t.
Mostly.
But.
“I thought everyone knew.”
“I know,” Tony says, and to his credit he does manage to look apologetic. “And you thought they accepted you anyway. Which they do, still, by the way. Now that they actually know.”
No matter how deep you dig you can’t find it in yourself to be upset with him. He only did what believed was best. For you and for the team. You know more than most what a decision of that caliber feels like.
“Right,” is all you say.
You turn to go.
“You’re taking Romanoff with you,” Tony says before you make it out the door, “on the Evora job. And on all jobs from here on out.”
“I don’t need a babysitter, Stark.”
“Maybe not,” he says, “but good luck telling her that.”
/
Natasha’s behavior around you hasn’t changed.
You don’t know whether that’s because things are genuinely the same or because she wants you to think things are the same.
It’s hard to gauge whether it actually matters one way or the other.
“Guy calls himself Elemento.”
“Gross.”
“Yup,” Natasha says, “but he can bend the elements to his will.”
Your behavior around Natasha has changed, if only a little. You’re talking more. Mostly to fill the silences she leaves hanging in the air, the spats of quiet that make your head hurt.
“Bullets and martial arts won’t do much against that,” you say. “Offense a little intended.”
“Ouch.” She’s grinning. “You can’t be bent, however. I’m just backup.”
She’s right.
As usual.
You’re an experiment the elements can no longer touch. You put your ability to be altered to bed the day you shot your parents.
Elemento can’t bend you.
And he doesn’t.
His gift only works when he’s breathing.
You putting your hand through the skin of his throat and tearing out his windpipe takes care of that. The bullet between his eyes takes care of the rest.
Spilling Elemento’s blood across the white tile floor of his laboratory is the closest you’ve ever come to creating fine art. When it splashes across the front of your battle suit and freckles you in red you reckon it’s the most color you’ve worn since childhood.
Before his body hits the floor you’ve pulled his hard drive and crashed out through the nearest window.
It isn’t until you’ve got an arm around a rung of the rope ladder dangling from Natasha’s chopper that you realize you’re still holding onto the flesh you pulled from his neck.
You wait to ask your questions until Elemento and his ruined lab in Evora are six hours behind you and you’re mostly cleaned up, until Natasha’s found an itty-bitty hotel room to camp out in for the night.
“Why does Stark give me the messy assignments?”
“He trusts you,” Natasha says without looking up from a dime-store paperback she swiped from the front desk. “And you have considerably fewer morals about leaving loose ends.”
So that’s it.
“Right.”
You don’t say much for the rest of the day.
You just sit on the floor at the foot of the bed and think. Mostly about the fact that okay, yeah, you don’t think too much when it comes to killing the people Tony wants you to kill, and a little about the fact that Natasha doesn’t seem to mind the carnage. Whatever red she had in her ledger doesn’t keep her from letting you have your fun.
Funny word for what you do for the Avengers, that one. Fun.
You weren’t allowed much fun as a kid. Hell, you can barely call your upbringing a childhood.
Most of what you remember is being pricked for blood, being rolled under x-ray machines, withstanding test after test until your parents were satisfied with their creation. You remember asking to celebrate holidays, birthdays—anything—and being told no. You remember watching the neighborhood kids board the school bus every morning from your bedroom window and hating that you weren’t allowed to go to regular school with them. Most of those memories are laced with hate.
Makes sense that murder constitutes fun these days.
“Hey.”
You pull yourself out of your thoughts.
The window’s gone dark.
Natasha has the bedside lamp on, casting a dim yellow glow across the little room, and she’s right there with you, dangling her head off the end of the bed and peering at you with affectionate amusement.
“You’ve been in your head for hours,” she tells you. “It’s four am.”
“Oh.”
“Come to bed.”
You look down at your clothes: gray tactical pants splattered with blood, boots caked in dust and dirt, sweat-stained tank top clinging to your chest. Off in the corner your battle jacket lies crumpled in a heap.
“I should shower.”
You wait until the water’s scalding before stepping in.
When you get out your skin’s red and warm and in the foggy mirror you notice a gash along the length of your forearm. It doesn’t need stitches but you figure Natasha’s going to say something about it anyhow.
She does.
“That hurt?”
“No.”
“Did you clean it?”
“Are you always such a mom?”
“My sister would say yes.”
You dress in a spare tee and a pair of sweats with the gaudy Avengers logo on the hip.
There’s only one bed.
You crawl in and lay still on your back.
Natasha props herself up on an elbow and studies you.
“You said you can bleed when you want to, and feel pain under the right circumstances. What does that mean?”
“It means exactly what it sounds like it means.”
“Elaborate,” she says.
“Later.”
“Fine.”
She kills the lamp.
It takes her ten minutes to decide to slip a hand over your bicep and squeeze. Another five to tuck her leg up over your hip. When you don’t move she finds your hand and pulls it to her thigh, and, “Just—there,” she mumbles against your ear. You squeeze, she hums.
Eventually, you don’t know how long—you lost track of the minutes as soon as she invited you to touch her—Natasha’s lips find your skin. She leaves soft kisses along your jaw, slow and steady, until she finds your lips and licks into your mouth with a gentle curiosity that distracts you enough not to notice the hand slipping under your shirt until Natasaha’s nails bite into your skin.
For a moment you want to ask what this is, what the time on the jet was. You push the thought away as Natasha swings a leg over your hips, mounts you, and leans over to flick the lamp on.
“I want to try something,” she says, peeling your shirt off, grazing her fingertips over your sternum and down your stomach. Then she pulls a knife on you, a little folding one that snaps open with a satisfying click. The sound itself is enough to light a fire deep in your core.
You don’t nod. You don’t speak. You just smile, dreamy and expectant, because while it isn’t a loaded gun it does still excite you.
Natasha sets the blade at the base of your throat, and, “I want you to bleed,” she says, brows raising. “Can you do that for me?”
You can. Even though you can hear your heart thudding in your ears and you can feel the scorching tingle of arousal as it shoots down your spine, you can do it.
The knife follows the path her fingers took only moments ago: over your chest, between your breasts, along the divot between the muscles of your stomach. In its path little droplets of blood sprout before your eyes, painting you red for the second time that day. Natasha wipes the blade on the sheets and drags her fingers over the thin wound, smearing blood across your skin.
A moment passes in silence, you watching Natasha while she inspects the slice she put into you. In that moment your heart picks up, thundering against your ribcage, and you know she can feel it just as easily as she can see the heavy rise and fall of your chest.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Rhetorical—she’s smirking. “No blood this time. I don’t even want to break your skin.”
You have to think about it for a moment, tunnel way back into the corners of your mind to find the switch that kills your pain receptors and fortifies the density of your skin, but you can do it. You’d only practiced finding and hitting that switch under the clinical observation of your parents a thousand times as a child. It used to take you hours—this time it takes only seconds.
When the blade slides over your skin this time, nothing happens. Not even a scratch.
“Like a butter knife against marble,” Natasha mumbles.
You can’t tell if she’s studying you as a whole or just the cut and the would-be one. At least she hasn’t said anything about the fact that you’ve fought by her side time and again and not once has she ever seen you refuse a wound. Surely it means something, to her or whichever psychologist Tony has on retainer this month, that you choose to let yourself get hurt when things come to blows, but you think it’s hardly the time to dwell on that.
The knife clatters onto the bedside table.
“Sorry,” she mutters, pressing her palm against your abdomen, grazing her nails over the firm muscles she finds there. “Although I’m absolutely certain you don’t need an apology. Still—not every day I hurt one of my own on purpose.”
“One of your own, huh?”
She rolls her eyes.
“I wouldn’t be here to keep an eye on you if I didn’t care.”
“You sure it isn’t just so you can get into my pants again?”
“All I have to do is smile at you to accomplish that.”
“Touché.”
Natasha smiles.
You prop yourself up on your elbows to meet her halfway as she ducks down to kiss you. The taste of her tongue is second only to the taste of her cunt, and you consider yourself lucky to know the taste of both.
Doesn’t take much more than a heavy hand of yours slipping down between her legs and cupping her through her little sleep shorts to convince Natasha to let you have her. You get her out of her bottoms and push your fingers through slick lips, pushing her wetness around with your fingertips before sinking into her in one fluid motion.
You almost ask her if it’s good, if it’s enough, but her eyes rolling skyward, her fingertips pressing into your skin, and her back arching as she rolls her hips against your hand tell you all you need to know. She’s warm and wet and tight around your fingers as you stroke her from the inside, practically coaxing her wetness out of her cunt and into the palm of your hand.
“Good?” You ask anyway because even with the pleasure written on her face you still value a verbal confirmation.
“Good,” Natasha says, nodding.
Before you can say anything else she slips an arm around your neck and rolls onto her back, pulling you right down on top of her with your hips nestled between her thighs and your hand trapped between your bodies.
“Better,” she says, smirking up at you. “Fuck me like this—like you mean it.”
“Easy,” you tell her, because it is, because you really do mean it.
You thrust your fingers into Natasha’s warm cunt while she mouths at your throat, sinking her teeth into the soft spot where she finds your pulse, sucking a bruise into your skin that you know will linger for days, and you don’t think you’ve ever been so eager to wear a mark before. And you’re still bleeding, smudges of blood on your chest staining Natasha’s shirt from where she presses up against you, but you don’t care, and you don’t think she does either.
Notching your hips against the back of your hand and using the steady grind to fuck your fingers into her helps, makes it feel a little like what you’d guess a biological male might feel in this situation, holding yourself above Natasha with an arm that’s starting to cramp while you push into her. You’d watch if you could, you reckon the sight of your fingers disappearing into her clenching hole is a mighty fine one, but she’s palming at your breasts, teasing your nipples, and her arms are in the way. You settle for slipping a third finger into her cunt, stretching her open, grunting happily as she keens into your ear and gushes around your fingers.
“I wish I had your stamina,” she mutters through a yawn, pushing her hands through your hair as you crawl down her body, settling on your belly between her legs. “You aren’t going to let me sleep yet, are you?”
You give your answer by burying your face in her cunt, licking through her lips, grazing your teeth over her sensitive clit, and drinking her in. She tastes better than you remember: heady and intense and entirely Natasha. You hum against her, prop one of her legs over your shoulder, and coast your hands along her thighs. She’s warm to the touch and warm against your tongue and if it weren’t nearing five o’clock in the morning you’d spend all the time in the world right here.
But because it is nearing five o’clock you spend maybe ten minutes between Natasha’s legs, licking into her leaking hole until she tenses and trembles and spills onto your tongue. By the time you wipe your mouth on the sheets and crawl up to her side she’s barely awake, but, “Thanks,” she mumbles, draping an arm across your middle and leaving a lingering kiss on your shoulder. “For not shutting me out.”
Natasha falls asleep tucked up against your side and by the time she’s snoring softly against your shoulder you’ve decided that, whatever the circumstances, whatever the mission, having someone tag along to babysit you isn’t the worst thing in the world at all when that person is Natasha.
And, for what it's worth, you're glad you haven't figured out how to push her away.
Your plot twists stab me in the heart again and again😭 I HONESTKY TJOUGHT THAT TJIS ONE WOULD BE HAPPY AND WHOLESOME I still live for them though😪💕
Always On My Mind
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Word Count: 1.2K
A/N: This is just a drabble that got away from me. I’m trying to remember how to write again so bear with me.
You should buy her flowers.
It was strange how small things made you think of Natasha. The leaves were turning red in the park that you walked through on your way to work. It reminded you of her hair in the morning, spread haphazardly across your pillow.
You checked your phone absentmindedly.
Keep reading
Sneak peak!! :D
How's everyone doing? I have been pretty busy and tired recently but thanks for waiting and for being patient! :))💕 This isn't what I usually write- I felt ✨inspired✨ so I hope u enjoy the sneak peak ❤️
At Her Altar, As Her Worship
Ever since your turning you have been succumbing to the cold. Your faithful mentor and vampiric 'mother,' Natasha would never allow it to happen.
Warnings: General blood themes because of vampires, Natasha gets bitten consentually on the breast by reader, reader drinks breast milk and blood, reader sucks on Natasha's breasts, no pronouns are used for reader, reader gets called little love, fluffiness, gave me a cavity💕
Note you do not have permission to translate and or repost this story thank you :)
Also in case it wasn't clear Natasha is reader's 'mother'(?) in this cause Nat turned them so she takes care of them :)❤️
The warmth from Natasha's skin felt as though it was sinking into your lips and aching fangs, warming the perpetual chill inside you. Her long soft red hair brushes against your cheeks.
--
From your position buried in Natasha's neck you couldn't see her face, but the sweet lilt to her low humming said that Natasha was content. A callused hand gently cups the back of your head, before deft fingers begin to smooth down your baby hairs.
You could smell the sweet detergent clutching to her bare chest, a fluttery kiss pressed to your temple. The soft crackling of the ridiculously large victorian fire place popped gently in your ears as your head perks up shyly. Natasha's fond smile growing at the sight, her lullaby tapering off.
"Go on little love, just like how I taught you." The feeling of her full, plush breasts pressed against your shoulder and neck sent a warm flush to your ears.
You are guided toward her chest and pink perky nipples, your lips parting hesitantly. Gleaming fangs gently pierce the milky skin around her nipple before your mouth suckles on her breast. Warm blood with a slight tang and sweet milk flows into your awaiting mouth.
The unrelenting sour hunger finally eases and warmth flows into your previously stiff and chilly fingers. Eyes flutter as your mind grows warm, hazy and sleepy. Natasha rubs your back affectionately, beginning to hum another lullaby.
Seera-Li Marvel Masterlist
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
Natasha Romanoff
Show Mommy What You Got NS*FW
Natasha your mommy, decides that you look stunning in lingerie she chose on a vacation in Amsterdam and decides to do something about it.
Warnings: Mommy Kink, WLW sex, implied age gap, reader has a pus*sy, reader wears a bra + panties, no pronouns are used for reader, edging, fingering, clitoral play, Natasha romanoff is referred to as Mommy multiple times, reader is called a sweet thing, Kotenok and sweet heart, author has no clue what Amsterdam is like
At Her Altar, As Her Worship Fluffy
Ever since your turning you have been succumbing to the cold. Your faithful mentor and vampiric 'mother,' Natasha would never allow it to happen.
Warnings: General blood themes because of vampires, Natasha gets bitten consentually on the breast by reader, reader drinks breast milk and blood, reader sucks on Natasha's breasts, no pronouns are used for reader, reader gets called little love
Speak up baby NS*FW
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
Naughty girls NS*FW
You and your mommy, Natasha, have some fun during movie time. Until you misbehave.
Mommy kink, man handling, se*x toy usage (dildo), implied age gap, reader gets penetrated, vaginal penetration, coc*k warming, grinding, thigh riding, sex with clothes on, WLW sex, Natasha gives reader neck hickies, Reader gets called puppy, baby, honey and little girl, reader comes without permission, implied mutual consent, degradation, squirting, light begging, implied punishment, reader misbehaves, implied rules
To be continued...
Show Mommy What You Got.
Natasha your mommy, decides that you look stunning in lingerie she chose on a vacation in Amsterdam and decides to do something about it.
Warnings: Mommy Kink, WLW sex, implied age gap, reader has a pus*sy, reader wears a bra + panties, no pronouns are used for reader, edging, fingering, clitoral play, Natasha romanoff is referred to as Mommy multiple times, reader is called a sweet thing, Kotenok and sweet heart, author has no clue what Amsterdam is like
Note you do not have permission to translate and or repost this story thank you :)
First fic! I hope you enjoy 🥰 Also thank you to @starsvck for helping me w imagining ideas and for teaching me how to use a read now lol I also wrote this while veryy tired after a biology test and after uni in 40ish minutes so sorry for any errors💕
Natasha sat on the edge of the far too fancy hotel bed, a coy cocky smirk playing on her red lips. "Show mommy what you got, sweet thing." You two had been tromping through the streets of Amsterdam during a small but nevertheless pleasant vacation.
A sharp stab of pleasure pools arousal thick and heavy between your thighs. Mommy had been teasing you all day at the mall and you could feel it in the way your pussy throbbed against the pretty, deep red panties that mommy had chosen for you. It had of course come with a matching bra.
---
Half stumbling from desperation you straddled Natasha's lap, her deep green eyes gleamed and darkened hungrily as she raked them over your body. Her fingers reached up and began to gently play with the lacy hem of your panties, feather light touches sent pangs of pleasure straight to your sensitive pussy. Natasha's other hand snaked up your body to firmly grasp your chin, clasped between her thumb and forefinger. "Mommy please, I need you!" You cried out half delirious with overwhelming arousal.
Mommy hums gently, her lightly curled red locks tumbling over a tank top clad shoulder, leather jacket mysteriously vanished. "You look so pretty like this, Kotenok." Her hand finally slips into your panties, finger tip trailing through slick folds. Soon after, her roughened palm ground against your clit sending sharp sparks up your spine as two fingers slipped into you with no preamble. Pleasure burst in your pussy as you whimpered and moaned from Natasha's ministrations. You could hear the wet, obscene noises coming from your pussy.
A tight knot quickly grew in your tummy as mommy's hand pumped and ground down harder. "Ah!- mommy I can't I'm gonna-"
Before you finished begging Natasha's slick soaked hand slipped out. You sat on mommy's lap, legs trembling and pussy utterly soaked through your lacy panties. Your shocked eyes flick to mommy and she laughs softly. "C'mon sweet heart, don't you want to show me what other pretty panties you have?" Her eyes sparkled with amusement as though Natasha didn't know what she was doing.
Mommy gently pushes you off her lap and toward the general direction of the bathroom, leaving you unsatisfied and overwhelming aroused.