˗ˏˋ♡ˎˊ˗nat ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

WAAAAAAAA I looooooooovvveeee 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒 & 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

summary : raised in the heart of the countryside, you, Y/N Langford, has always known the rhythm of ranch life—early mornings on horseback, sun-drenched vineyards, and a quiet kind of freedom carved into the land passed down through generations. however, your father's recent colleague is interesting enough.

genre : country!au, wlw, countryside life.

warnings : beefy!nat, top!nat, sub!reader, age-gap (r is 24 and nat is 32).

words count : 2.6k

𖦹 part one 𖦹

HORSES & ROMANCE :

— Baked Goods & Conversations

📍Langford's Estate,

Clare Valley, Southern Australia

The sun rose slow over the rolling hills of Langford Ranch, lighting up the sea of golden grass and rows of early-spring grapevines like it had every morning for as long as you could remember.

It painted the landscape in brush strokes of amber and coral, and even though you'd seen it a thousand times before, it never lost its magic.

You leaned against the fence post, one boot perched on the lower rail, the familiar weight of your cowgirl hat tipped just enough to shield your eyes. The morning breeze brought with it the scent of hay, dew, and something sweet—probably the peach trees blooming behind the barn.

Your mare, Alba, huffed behind you, nudging at your shoulder with the soft impatience only a horse could get away with.

"Alright, alright," You chuckled, patting Alba's muzzle. "You'd think I forgot breakfast was a sacred ritual around here."

The sound of boots on gravel made you turn. Your father, Georges Langford, was walking up from the lower fields with his usual purposeful gait— sun-baked, worn-in, and always moving like the land wouldn't let him sit still for too long.

The man was the backbone of Langford Ranch and he looked it —broad-shouldered, silver at the temples, with lines carved deep from years of working under sun and storm alike.

"Mornin', sunshine," He greeted, pulling off his hat to wipe his brow.

"Mornin', Dad. Thought you were checking fence lines today?"

"I was. Had Carter do the west end. That post by the creek needs more than nails—it needs a prayer."

You grinned. "Doesn't everything out here?"

You both stood in comfortable silence for a beat, eyes drifting across the property. The vineyards curved along the hills like ribbons, and the stables were starting to come alive with movement—hooves on wood, snorts in the air, Carter hollering something at the barn cat.

Georges cleared his throat, one hand resting on his belt.

"By the way," he began, in that tone he used when he was about to drop something mildly important but wanted it to sound casual, "We've got someone movin' into one of the guest houses tomorrow."

At the news, you arched a brow. "Oh, yeah? One of the hands?"

"No. She's not a ranch hand. She's a colleague, technically. Been working in livestock management and field logistics the past few years—real sharp, real quiet. Does good work, and I could use the extra brain with the contracts we've got coming up. She'll be helping out part-time on the cattle rotation too."

"She?"

Georges gave a grunt of acknowledgment. "Her name's Natasha Romanoff. Comes with strong references—worked some rough terrain in Texas and Idaho. Kept to herself but got a rep for being dependable. Heard about her through Greg Havens. You remember him, used to run those horse clinics down in Abilene?"

"Sure. He's the one who taught Brandy how to sit for carrots."

You replied casually, looking over at Alba as you fed her a carrot. She gruffed quietly, then you ran you other free hand over her muzzle to soothe whatever was threatening to upset her.

Georges nodded, chuckling. "Same guy. He vouched for her, and that's good enough for me."

You bit the inside of your cheek thoughtfully.

New faces weren't exactly common out here—Langford Ranch didn't have a revolving door. People came, worked, and stayed for seasons, sometimes years. Others never left. So someone moving into one of the guesthouses —someone your father trusted enough to share work and land with— wasn't something you could ignore.

"She know what she's walking into?" You questioned, "This place isn't exactly a weekend retreat."

Georges smirked, the kind of smile that meant he was already ten steps ahead, patting Alba's head in a gentle manner. "She's got boots older than Carter. She'll manage."

A low whistle went past your lips. "Well, damn. Guess we'll see."

He started walking back toward the barn, calling over his shoulder, "And don't scare her off before she even unpacks."

"No promises!" You hollered back, grinning as you turned to your horse. "What do you think, Albs? Sounds like trouble to me."

Your chestnut mare whinnied, flicking her tail like she agreed.

The sun kept rising, golden over the fields, and you found yourself staring in the direction of the empty guest house—the one with the white porch swing and the wraparound view of the west hills.

You had no idea what this Natasha Romanoff looked like. But something in your chest shifted—a quiet hum of interest, like the first stirrings of wind before a storm.

Not that you minded a little storm now and then.

Especially if it came with sharp eyes, rolled-up sleeves, and a story worth unfolding.

🎀 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 🎀

The vineyard stretched endlessly, rows upon rows of grapevines curling around the earth like veins of the land itself.

The estate had been in the Langford's hands for generations, a legacy carried through the years by blood, sweat, and a relentless passion for the soil beneath their feet.

To those who visited, it was a picturesque sanctuary, a symbol of hard work and perseverance. But to the Langford's, it was everything—family, history, and identity.

Natasha had been in the business of wine for a while now, though her path to the Langford Estate was as unconventional as she was. A successful winemaker in her own right, Natasha was known for her larger-than-life presence, a woman whose strength was both literal and figurative.

With arms built from years of physical labor and a back as strong as any farmer's, she was an imposing figure, even among the burly, weathered men and women who worked in the vineyards.

She was no stranger to hard work, though her reputation often preceded her—a reputation built on an iron will, business acumen, and a certain raw magnetism that pulled people in, even when they weren't sure they wanted to be.

The guest house she had been owning for almost a day sat on ten acres of mostly flat earth. It had a porch that creaked under her boots and a wind chime made of spoons that clinked gently in the breeze. It was a fixer-upper. Natasha liked fixing things.

The redhead stretched her arms above her head, boots scuffing against the wood of her porch as she eyed the grass lining the front.

Her flannel clung lightly to her frame from the morning work, sleeves rolled up, exposing strong forearms. She had been there all of twenty minutes when she heard the distant sound of an engine, then a dog barking. She glanced toward the road and there you were, driving a red ford pick-up truck, the golden retriever settled in the passenger seat.

Natasha leaned one shoulder against the porch column as she watched you cut the engine, arms crossed, eyes scanning with interest. Not even trying to hide it. 

"You must be the new neighbor," You spoke up, stepping out of the vehicle before letting your dog out. "Heard from my father that someone finally brought the Cross property."

The elder woman's lip curled. "Is that what they call it?" 

"Sure is," You held up the basket of warm goodies you held in hand. "I brought you some cinnamon rolls. Freshly homemade from this morning."

She raised an eyebrow, stepping down to meet you. "Cinnamon rolls? Are you trying to seduce me already?" 

You smirked, "Damn, you catch on fast."

The redhead smirked, taking the basket from your hands. Her fingers brushed yours, rough calluses meeting warm skin. If Ethan Langford was a great co-worker to be around, she was sure she'd appreciate his daughter's company, maybe a little too much. "Name's Natasha."

You introduced yourself next, and she let the name roll around in her mind, pairing it with your smile. It suited you. There was a light to you -- an ease. Nat hadn't felt ease in a long time. 

You tilted your head, gaze sweeping over her like you were sizing her up. And who wouldn't? Biceps under sun-kissed skin, a scar just over her eyebrow, so faint that you would've missed it if you didn't look so closely, and the kind of posture that said she didn't run from anything. You chewed on the inside of your bottom lip and cleared your throat. 

"You're planning on staying around more often?" 

"Depends," Natasha replied, eyes steady on yours. "You planning on bringing me baked goods every day?"

You shrugged. "Maybe. Depends on if you're worth the flour."

She laughed as you turned to go with a smirk, your dog trailing behind. You called out while walking back to the pickup. 

"Nice meeting you, Natasha." 

"Believe me," The redhead called back, watching the sway of your hips. "The pleasure was all mine."

🎀 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 🎀

The scent of warm earth filled the air as midday settled across Langford Ranch.

The sun rode high above the valley, glinting off metal fence posts and the waxy leaves of grapevines stretching in neat rows as far as the eye could see.

Georges Langford’s voice cut through the quiet as he stood beside Natasha Romanoff, gesturing out over the vast spread of land like a king showing off his kingdom.

“This vineyard’s been in my family for four generations. My great-grandfather planted the first vines himself back in the early 1900s. Clare Valley wasn’t what it is now. Just dry heat and stubborn soil.”

Natasha listened, eyes scanning the curves of the land, the way each line of vines bent gently with the slope. “You’ve made something out of it.”

“We didn’t have much choice,” he replied with a chuckle. “We were Langfords before we were winemakers. And Langfords don’t quit easy.”

They paused at the vineyard’s edge, where symmetrical rows of early-season vines curled along the gentle hillsides like organized chaos. The sun cast their shadows long between the rows, and Georges ran a hand along a twisted vine like it was part of his body.

“These grapes—Shiraz, mostly—go into the reserve reds we bottle each March. We sell local, export some to the States. My wife—God rest her soul—used to say you could taste the earth in every drop.”

An old well house nearby that had been converted into a wine cellar, its stones weathered by time, came into view.

He pointed out the fermentation shed, the mechanical harvester they only used in a pinch, and the solar panels that lined the western slope.

“Hard to imagine this place any other way,” The Russian admitted.

“That’s how you know it’s in your blood,” Georges said, glancing sideways at her. “You start seeing it not just as land, but as story. As legacy.”

He paused to pick up a handful of dry earth, let it sift through his fingers.

“You got family, Natasha?”

She hesitated. “Not in the way most people mean it.”

He didn’t press further. Just nodded like he understood and changed the subject.

They continued past the cattle paddocks—wide, open pastures edged with eucalyptus trees—where Georges pointed out the rotational system they used for grazing. Natasha absorbed every detail, asking questions here and there, sharp and precise. She didn’t talk much, but when she did, it was clear she’d done her homework.

When they came up the path near the back stables, Georges paused, brow furrowing slightly.

“There she is,” he said, and the redhead followed his gaze.

You were across the field, just beyond the fence, seated effortlessly atop Alba. The mare’s coat shimmered like brushed copper under the midday sun, and your posture was easy, confident. One hand rested lightly on the reins, the other lifting to wave when you noticed them.

The wind lifted your hat slightly, sending loose strands of hair brushing across your face. Romanoff’s eyes lingered.

“Y/N grew up in that saddle,” Georges said with a hint of pride. “Taught her how to ride before she could tie her own boots. Girl’s got her mother’s balance and her own kind of grit.”

Natasha didn’t answer immediately. She watched as you guided Alba into a smooth canter, posture fluid, in perfect rhythm with the horse. You rode like you belonged there. Like the land bent to you out of love, not force.

Georges watched his daughter for a beat, pride softening the lines of his face.

“She grew up on that horse,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Alba was born the same spring Y/N turned three. They're a pair, those two. I swear that horse listens to her better than most people.”

“She’s got good instincts,” She finally murmured, her eyes locked on your figure.

“That she does,” Langford agreed. “She knows this land better than anyone alive. And don’t let her fool you—she acts like she’s all mischief and cinnamon rolls, but she’s got steel under all that charm.”

Nat smirked faintly. “I noticed.”

You trotted over, reigning Alba in just a few feet from the fence. You slid off

the horse in one smooth motion, boots landing in the dust with a satisfying thud. The redhead watched the way you walked—loose, unhurried, confident.

“Everything alright with the tour?” You asked, brushing dust off your jeans.

“Your dad runs a tight ship,” Natasha said. “Impressive place.”

You nodded, offering a small, proud smile. “It’s home. And a hell lot of work.”

There was something in the way you said it—not arrogance, but ownership. Natasha respected that. She respected people who didn’t just show up, but showed up for the land, for the animals, for the legacy.

You scratched behind Alba’s ear, then looked at Natasha again. Your voice quietening but also softening as you spoke.

“You settling in okay?”

She nodded, “Starting to.”

“Well,” You began, “if you ever need anything...wine, fence wire, conversation—I’m usually around.”

The way you said conversation was light, but it wasn’t nothing. The Russian caught it, held it for a second, then let it pass.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” She said, voice low.

Your father cleared his throat, clearly sensing something unspoken pass between the two of you. “Alright, I’ll leave you two to flirt while I go pretend I’ve got paperwork to do.”

“Dad,” You said flatly, cheeks blooming a hint of color.

Natasha just chuckled, deeply amused. “Thanks for the tour, Georges.”

"And also, we always have dinner out on the porch around six-thirty. Nothing fancy, but real food and even better company. You’re more than welcome, Red.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” She tilted her head for a nod.

He tipped his hat. “Try not to let her talk your ear off.”

And with that, he walked off toward the barn, leaving the two of you standing under the shade of the gum trees, horses grazing nearby, breeze rustling through the dry grass.

Natasha followed the curve of your form as you walked—long legs, dust on your boots, and a playful tilt to your hips that didn’t feel like an accident.

You glanced back at Natasha, a lopsided smile playing on your lips. “So,” you said, brushing back a windblown strand of hair, “You going to take the dinner invite?”

“Maybe.”

You looked her up and down, not shy. “I’d recommend it. My grandma’s lasagna recipe still makes grown men cry.”

Natasha huffed a quiet laugh, her expression unreadable. “You always this charming?”

You leaned against the fence casually. “Only when I know it works.”

For a moment, the wind quieted. The dog—Cooper—came loping up the trail behind you, flopped down in the dirt, tongue out and panting.

Natasha looked down at him, then back up at you. “Guess I’ll see you tonight.”

With a nod, you concluded, “Looking forward to it.”

And somewhere deep inside Natasha, something settled—like boots finding firm ground.

She hadn’t come here looking for anything beyond work and quiet. But life, like land, had a way of growing things you didn’t expect.

➪ next part.

Red doesn't scare me

Natasha Romanoff/Reader

Summary — You’ve been feeling miserable all day—cramps, fatigue, and the overwhelming discomfort of your period making you want nothing more than to curl up and disappear. You assume Natasha, ever the attentive lover, will simply cuddle you and help ease your pain. But when she notices the way your body reacts to her touch, she makes it clear that she’s not about to let a little blood stop her from giving you exactly what you need.

Warning(s) — Mentions of blood, smut, swearing, fingering, cunnilingus, sex during period, nipple play, strap on, have i already mentioned sex during period?

Notes — I hope you guys can please forgive some of my spelling mistakes, cuz english is not my first language. I hope you enjoy this fic.

The pain hits you like a thousand Trojan horses piercing your abdomen, making you shiver—bend over, bringing your cold hands to the beginning of your abdomen where the pain started.

Menstrual cramps. Thats the name of the devil who's tormenting your life for the past few days.

A grunt escapes your lazy lips as you feel another twinge, clutching your heating pad tightly against you.

You felt miserable, the pain was too intense for you to even be able to do normal things like cook or make your bed, and the fatigue was also something that you deep down hated at the moment. The overwhelming sensations running through your body almost resulted in an internal scream.

At that moment, you wanted nothing more than to disappear, for the pain to stop and for you to be able to walk normally again without feeling like a waterfall was pouring down your legs at that very moment.

Your girlfriend has been with you for about two years now, and whenever your time of the month came around she made sure to spoil you in the best way possible, be it with chocolate, ice cream, flowers, stuffed animals or even your favorite food.

Natasha didn't have to deal with this kind of thing because she had her uterus ripped out at a very young age, but even though she couldn't even imagine the pain you felt, she made sure to treat you in the best way possible, even if you were in an extremely bad mood.

You remember curling up under the covers crying after another blast of pain hit you, but your hero came home right after with two chocolate bars and a stuffed hamster with googly eyes that played a song when you squeezed it. That was your favorite gift.

There was another time she took the day to give you a personal spa day, massaging your back, belly, feet. She spreaded the lotion over your body gingerly, loving every one of your sighs of tension relief.

Overall, she was a good girlfriend—a great girlfriend. You had nothing to complain about... except that during that time of the month your mind didn't bother to stop and think before grumbling, which is exactly a good example of the current moment.

Natasha held a cup in her right hand, her other hand pouring the hot chocolate into the cup with ease and care, humming an internal lullaby as she felt the heat take over the palm of her hand.

You on the other hand, impatient, kicked the air in an angry and impatient way. Natasha's said it wouldn't take long, however ten minutes have passed and you already miss the warmth of her body against yours.

Natasha smiles, listening to the sound of you shifting around, placing the jug on the table before she turns around, dragging her feet to the bedroom, where little by little the clear view of you sprawled on the bed reveals itself.

You hear the sound of footsteps, your attentive ears moving attentively as you dig your head out of the pillow. A pout trembles on your pink lips as you have your half-lidded eyes looked towards your girlfriend who now enters the room with a soft smile on her lips.

"You're late..." You grumbled, your voice coming out as nothing more than a hoarse and extremely sly murmur.

A playful smile reaches the avenger's lips and she clicks her tongue in the raw of her mouth before sneaking to the edge of the bed, placing your cup of hot chocolate on the nightstand before sneaking to your side, lying down there.

Natasha wraps her hands around your waist, leaving a kiss on your fluffy cheek as she assumes the bigger spoon position.

"Humpf!" You mumble, turning your neck to the opposite side, avoiding even looking at the strands of red curls that brushed against your shoulders.

"It didn't even take me that long, moya milaya." You heard her whisper against the foot of your ear, making you shiver at the deep—husky tone of your girlfriend's voice.

You try to look unfazed, the grimace on your face slowly dissipating in a failed attempt when you felt her lips against your cheek and then your forehead, her red curls covering your vision due to the position she was now leaning in.

"You're tense, detka." She cooed behind you, hands now sliding towards your sore shoulders and massaging the area in slow and circular motions, watching the way you shrank against her even if unconsciously, making the spy smile proudly.

"You did so great today—handled the pain so obediently my dear. You should stop being a little grumpy now and let mommy take care of you, huh?" She whispered before placing a kiss on the corner of your lips, wrapping one of her legs around yours as she moved closer, you in response snuggling closer without even resisting.

When your eyes close slightly, Natasha smiles, clenching her eyes and surrounding your neck with her lips, hands moving down from your shoulders to your back, continuing the frequency of a slow and delicate massage.

Your back arches against her instantly, butt against her pelvis as the pain you seemed to be feeling fades away for that moment.

"Shhh, that's it, let me take care of everything." Romanoff murmurs against your neck, sliding her hands to your hip and then thigh, leaving a silent squeeze in the place she secretly enjoyed so much.

You swallow hard, bucking against her unconsciously, body trembling at the unexpected touch as your lips part and you frown, nose wrinkling in the process.

You expected her to stop at just kissing your face and caressing your shoulders, but the way she slid her hand to the inner part of your thigh said otherwise.

Your body stiffened, air escaping from your hollow lungs as you pressed your fingertips against your lips, biting them deliberately in anxiety, eyebrows curved downwards as you let out a low sigh.

"Oh?" you heard the whisper behind your ear, the hands that until then were below rising a little upwards without shame, Natasha's sharp smile opening against the skin of your neck as she sniffed deeply at your smell.

Your head short-circuits when you heard a giggle in the background, cheeks rising upwards as they acquire a pink hue, lips pressed together as if they were glue.

"What's that? Hm?" She hummed, running her other hand down the line of your spine, savoring your little spasms.

You squeeze your eyes shut tightly, lips parting in a shaky sigh before you begin to speak. “Nat, I—I'm on my period.” You mumbled, cheeks warming even more in embarrassment.

The redhead could only smirk, eyes darkening with something dangerously—enticing. “And? That’s supposed to stop me from making you feel good?” Her voice travels like cotton, softening your eardrums in an angelic way.

You try to protest, lips open in a shape of 'O', but even before you could say anything she silences you up, arms sliding towards your hips once again and crawling up to get face to face with you, lips metting yours with a slow, heated kiss, her touch in your hips turning more insistent.

Every doubt you had melts away as she reassures you in the way only she can—by showing you exactly how much she wants you, without hesitation or restraint.

Natasha is a former assassin, did you really thought that bloodshots would be enough to restrain her? At most, it would make her even more excited.

The spy takes her time worshiping you, her lips exploring yours hungrily, tongue invading your mouth with ferocity. And her hands, oh those slender finger were exploring every inch of your body now, running towards your belly and scratching the place slightly, making you forget all about the discomfort you felt before. She’s relentless in her devotion, whispering praises against your lips, letting you know just how much she loves seeing you beneath her, no matter the circumstances. "Oh baby look at you, so needy."

Oh but you're so into it, the way her hands slide from your stomach to your thighs once more, lifting her lips from yours for a tiny second, only to slide once more to your neck, this time placing wet kisses all over the region. Tongue sliding down your throat while occasionally nibbling on the spot and making a small sucking noise with her lips.

You definitely weren't hating this despite your brain objecting in the worst possible way.

You feel your body being turned upwards, your hands running up to your girlfriend's neck and wrapping around it like vines, legs spread like sheets of paper. You feel Natasha's hands go down to your knees, now she was completely on top of you, one of her hands going from your knee to the height of your stomach, smoothing the very sensitive area.

You tried to close your legs in instinc but something was stopping you. One of her legs was pressing against the inside of your thigh, keeping it open easily.

Now you felt her hands going up to the buttons of your white pajama top, sparing no effort in quickly undoing it, exposing your chest.

Romanoff raises one hand to your left mound, thumb dragging against the nipple that was hardened by the icy wind coming from outside the window.

The way her finger drags over your skin sends shockwaves through your entire being. Torso rising slightly before you could even issue a small noise from your trembling lips.

You wanted to feel more, the beast inside you growing like never before, lips parting in a half-closed shape, eyes narrowed as you fixed your orbs against the face of your beloved who was now leaning close to your torso.

Natasha licks her lower lip before smiling, holding back a small laugh. Her red lips meet the tip of your breast, lightly biting the area before deflating her cheeks for a light suction.

You huff softly in discomfort, feeling your nipple twist within your girlfriend's nimble lips.

She nibbled you, kissing right after it, in the end alternating between these movements just to drive you crazy.

Still not satisfied enough, she decides to tease your other mound.

Her hands grabbed one of your breasts from below while she gently massaged the area, now kissing the other side without any imminent rush.

Your nipples were now sensitive from the stimulation, hands curling in Natasha's red curls like ivy. You felt like you were on the clouds now, as if her touch was like cotton against the silk of your skin.

Milky thighs try to close once more, this time due to the fact that you feel her hands moving down from your breasts to the beginning of your stomach, scratching the area near your hip before tugging on the hem of your grey pants.

Natasha's deft tongue drags along your torso, from your raised chest to your belly button, nibbling playfully on your belly, her smile sharp against your skin.

your throat scratches in surprise as you feel that she was pulling your pants down, an extreme blush rising faintly to your cheeks, eyes widening in a mix of fear and anticipation.

The spy looks up, eyes locking with yours intensely before she can raise an eyebrow. "Afraid of a bit ot red, detka?" She snorted, lips up in a wicked smile. "Don't worry, red doesn't scare me, especially if it's yours." She muttered softly, that wicked smile turning into something soft for a few mere seconds before she pulled went back to pull your pants down once again.

You bring your hands to your face, covering your own eyes, unable to face the scene about to happen.

Natasha pulls your pants down totally, throwing it to some random part of the room, too focused on the task at hand to care about where it would land on.

Her hands go to your knees, keeping both legs open so she could work better.

Your girlfriend smiles as she observes the much desired spot between your legs. A slight bulge in there from the fact that you were probably using a pad, Not that she cared about that, it would soon go to the trash and something much more pleasurable would be between your legs.

You tremble in anticipation, feeling Natasha's slender fingers run up your legs to the edge of your panties, slowly pulling the garment down, as if she was enjoying your little show of panic.

You both had time, so why not tease you a little, right?

You feel the garment being pulled down slowly and torturously, dragging itself over your thighs, knees and finally your feet, until you are left completely exposed with your legs wide open.

You feel the wind blow against your exposed sex, not only the feeling of excitement that seemed stronger as time passed.

Natasha smiles in satisfaction, observing the reddish place, a mixture of arousal and the reddish liquid that ran from inside you.

She steps closer, biting her lower lip as she admires the reddish beauty between your legs.

For Natasha, that wasn't disgusting, it never would be, it was a part of you that she would always love, after all, every month you gushed her favorite color, and in fact, whether you like it or not, it's healthy, and what she was about to do relieves cramps.

You feel the warm air brush against your intimacy, drawing a sigh that was soon replaced by a small cry of surprise when you felt your girlfriend's lips hitting your center.

It was quick, your eyes covered, making it impossible for you to get a sense of her next steps.

Natasha can't contain her smile, lips now smeared in the crimson liquid, sliding her tongue against your slit like a thirsty vampire would.

Your legs threaten to close, once again being held back by Natasha who uses just one hand to stop you.

The other dominant hand finds its way to your sex, dragging the index finger over your sensitive nerve, pulling a small whimper from your lips.

You open a gap between your fingers, opening one of your eyes to observe the erratic scene before you.

Natasha was completely stained red, her face now smeared the same amount as the hand she now used to explore your entrance.

You hear a soft—incoherent whisper, and then you feel your insides being invaded by just one finger, her lips now rising to your sensitized bundle of nerves, lightly nibbling the spot before finally sucking it lightly.

Natasha slides her tongue against the spot, sometimes licking, sometimes kissing, her finger now pumping inside you slowly, stretching you slowly and carefully to not to hurt you.

She thrusts in and out slowly, curling her finger a little every now and then as she drags her long nails against your inner walls lightly wich makes you shiver.

Your eyes lock again, this time you bring your hands to the blanket, hugging it as if your life depended on it, feeling yourself drip against her lips, not knowing if it was your own arousal or your menstrual flow.

Never in the world would that be disgusting to Natasha.

She pump her finger inside you with ease, slowly adding the second finger as she masterfully ministers her movements.

She had a heavy hand, cupping your sex as if it were the most delicate thing in the world, but at the same time she made sure to make you feel good.

Your lips part as you feel her slide in easily, starting to move slowly inside you, your inner walls kneading her fingers.

You wanted more—needed more. You try to beg your lips parted as you try to whisper something inaudible. "More..." You squeaked lightly.

"Oh, do you?" *Natasha murmurs against your sex, giving your bundle of nerves one last kiss before lifting her chin up, looking up at your face, taking in your watery eyes and heaving chest.

Your uncontrolled breathing makes the hairs on the spy's back stand on end, a devilish smile playing on her lips as she adjusts her position better, tongue going back down on you.

You bite your lower lip as you feel the speed changing, acquiring a continuous and rapid frequency. You release her name from your lips in a drawn-out moan that drives your girlfriend crazy. You seemed much more sly than usual, and she loved it.

You bury the side of your head into the pillow, breathing heavily as she thrusts continuously, soon building a coil deep in your stomach.

Natasha seemed to feel it by the way you were moving against her and your hips seemed to grind even more needy against her. "Nuh uh, hold it." She grunted softly, biting the tip of your clit as a warning, slowing her movements as she made sure to stimulate you even more.

Romanoff curls her fingers into a hook shape, tongue sliding towards your slit and acquiring more of your liquid on her hungry lips.

Everything seemed slow around you, your lower lip bruised from biting so much now made everything a little more exciting, sweat running down your forehead and down your neck, Natasha's agile hands giving you the pleasure you were looking for but at the same time edging you, taking away that feeling that you were close off your arms.

You grunt softly in response to her speech, in denial—dissatisfaction. "Humpf!" You purr, trying to move your hips for more friction, feeling Natasha pull out of you in a single movement, the 'Swoop' noise being heard at that exact moment, juices and blood coating her fingers.

Natasha clicks her tongue in her mouth, "Tsk." staring at her fingers in delight before she lets out a sigh. "You're impatient, aren't you? But don't worry, it's okay. I can do better than that."

The moment those words leave Natasha's lips, you close your eyes, containing an internal smile, shortly after hearing the sound of a zipper followed by clothes falling to the floor.

When you open your eyes again, you have the vision of Natasha on top of you, her breasts pressed against yours roughly as something noticeable rests against your thigh. "Good thing I've prepared myself this morning." She whispered, tongue rolling against her lips playfully.

You frown, being interrupted from your train of thought when you look down, watching the tip of the reddish toy brush against your thigh, slowly pulling it closer to your intimacy.

Oh you were fucked, in both senses.

"Now you don't need to hold yourself, pretty thing." Natasha sighs, lips coming close to your ear before nibbling on your earlobe, sliding the tip of the strap over your bundle of nerves and then your folds.

When you stop to take a deep breath you feel the toy slide all at once inside, eliciting a soft yelp from your lips as your body jerks forward with the rough—rude act.

"Tasha!" You scream, hands going to her back in a trembling way, feeling your walls knead the toy from the invasion, a mixture of pain and pleasure.

"Hm? Isn't that what you wanted?" Your girlfriend hissed, voice velvety as her lips curved into a wicked smile.

Then it starts to move, almost as if it were tearing in but fitting perfectly inside you, the tip hitting the end of your slit sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

Your hands go up to her neck, face partially buried in the pillow while this time you don't hold back your moans, affectionately calling Natasha's name as she guides the toy in and out of you slowly.

The tips of your toes curled, meanwhile Romanoff smiled wider and wider as she watched you tremble beneath her, she loved to see you crumble.

At the same time, you felt that what was in you would be enough, and with every second that passed with her moving inside you in a torturous way, you knew you wanted more, and Natasha knew it, she always knew.

"Natty... Please." You moan softly, legs shaking as you lift yourself up a little, trying to capture her lips in a kiss but missing by a few seconds.

"Oh yeah? Well you asked for it, malyshka." Natasha hummed before starting to increase her speed, slowly getting faster with each passing second, this time enough to knock all the air out of your lungs.

She begins to pump in and out quickly and accurately, moaning slightly as her expression seems to straighten into a serious one. "Fuck baby, look at you, so needy." Romanoff murmurs hoarsely, increasing her speed even more in response to seeing how you trembled at her voice, your reactions being like a show of angels playing for her.

She doesn't stop, continuing with her precise and careful movements, loving every thin moan that escaped your lips.

For Natasha, that was melody, just giving her fuel to continue to firmly thrust the toy inside you, fast and agile, a cunning smile on the spy's lips in a knowing form.

Her eyebrows furrow, watching your eyes close and open repeatedly in ecstasy, saliva nearly escaping your lips.

You choke on your own saliva, feeling the toy hit your sweet spot not once but repeatedly, and it doesn't take long for you to feel that twinge deep down once again, a coil sensation building up.

She saw the way you shivered against her, eyes closed tightly as your eyebrows drew together and lips parted in an 'o' shape. It was all so intense with Natasha, all so raw and delicious.

She continues thrusting inside you in a pure and electric way, emitting a low grunt when she realizes that your inner walls are squeezing the toy tightly. The base of the toy hitting against your own intimacy in a pleasurable friction for both of you.

You scream for the spy, her name flowing from your lips like a stream of water.

Her chest inflated and deflated repeatedly, her once pale lips now pink as she thrust continuously, without even a break.

You like how rough she was, pulling little screams from you every now and then, but at the same time she treated you with tenderness, lowering her bloody lips to your chest, kissing each of your mounds as she goes in and out of you.

The sensation that was now finishing building inside you was perfect, the bed banging against the wall and the sound of her hips crashing against yours sent waves of shock and pleasure through your body, lips parted letting moans escape.

Natasha nibbles on the tip of your breast, Hands gripping your waist like vines, arms wrapping around your, taking advantage of your arched back.

You try to announce that you are close to your climax, stuttering something incoherently. But Natasha understood you well, she knew you, so it doesn't take much for her to start thrusting faster, this time sticking her lips against your neck.

You feel the friction of your heat against her toy, too strong to handle, the beast inside you desperate for release, announcing how close you were. Lips trembling and moans hoarse and drawn out, nails scratching your girlfriend's back as you felt her thrust fast enough to make you see stars.

As you felt the toy once again hit your sweet spot, you felt yourself finally reach your peak, moaning her name in a slurred manner as you came undone against her in a strong stream.

Natasha smiled, slowing down her movements just a little, still guiding you towards your orgasm peacefully, milking you for every last drop.

By the time she’s done, slidding off of you, you’re breathless, completely spent in the best way possible. Natasha simply grins, pressing a kiss to your jaw before pulling you close, fingers going against her slit soaked by her fluids just to play with the liquid. “See?” she murmurs. “Red’s always been my color.”

Reallll

Me: I don't think I'm ever going to get married

Also me watching married wlw couples on tiktok: I WANT THAT PLEASE

Oh, well, fuck

#natasharomanoff #blackwidow #finestavenger #scarlettjohansson

“What makes you horny?”

THIS MOTHERFUCKER HERE

Enamored

Pairing(s): Knight!Natasha Romanoff x Princess!Reader

Summary: Your not so perfect attempts at having your first time with Natasha.

Warnings: Spicy and suggestive themes (not fully smut i’m so so sorry i just sucked at writing it)

Authors Note: This is another mini-oneshot to my fic “Soulmates”. I’d recommend reading that one before this for context to be able to grasp the storyline!

Authors Note Pt. 2: This took me entirely too long to write I know but I hope ya’ll like it 😭

Other mini-oneshots: Forever | Promise | Perfect

(Takes place after Natasha returns from her commission in the main story: Soulmates)

You were sat against the headboard of Natasha’s bed, reading the book you’d started earlier in the day when the knight finally emerged from the bathroom.

The top of her lounge shirt was damp from her wet, red hair despite her attempts to dry it with a towel. You shut your book after marking your place and set it on the nightstand, now more interested in your girlfriend.

“Did the shower help at all? Are you still feeling sore?” you asked.

“A little,” she tossed the towel in the laundry basket with a sigh, “I should’ve expected that, though. There was hardly any time to rest during the day and the beds on the ship are nowhere near as comfortable as yours.”

“Oh, Nat,” you cooed as she sat down at the foot of the bed.

Tonight was Natasha’s first night back from her overseas commission. After being gone for three weeks she’d finally returned a few hours ago and you couldn’t be more relieved to have her back with you.

You maneuvered yourself so you could sit behind her. Your hands made their way up her shoulders, quickly finding knots in the muscle so you began to massage them away.

She sighed again and you felt her relax back into your touch, “Is this helping?”

Natasha quickly nodded her head, “A lot. Thank you.” she said, so you continued your ministrations.

“So aside from the sore muscles, how did it go? Do you know if you’ve completed your training?”

“I don’t know yet, but Fury seemed pretty pleased with how everything turned out so I think I did.” the redhead said.

You shifted so you could look over the knights shoulder at her side profile. “That’s amazing, Nat, I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, princess.” she reached a hand up to place it over yours and gave it a gentle squeeze, “But I won’t know for sure until tomorrow.”

“Well no matter what happens I’ll be proud of you either way,” you said.

Natasha turned her head to meet your gaze, but her eyes quickly flickered down to your lips instead. She’d gone torturously long without being able to feel them on hers.

The redhead closed the short distance between the two of you for a soft kiss. You paused your movements on her shoulders so a hand could cup the side of her face, your thumb stroking over her cheek.

After a moment you pulled away, but the young knight didn’t let you go very far when her arms snaked around your torso and her forehead rested against yours.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered, her breath fanning over your mouth.

You tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as you looked between each of her green eyes. It wasn’t often that Natasha wore her hair down.

It was always pulled back into some form of a braid for her work, so you appreciated whenever you got to see the red strands fall freely.

“I missed you too.” you softly spoke, “I mean, if you couldn’t already tell with the way I barely gave you time to get off the ship before I jumped on you.” you both laughed.

Slowly, you leaned back in and connected your lips again. This one felt different compared to the kiss you’d just shared. It felt more passionate, as if the weeks spent away from each other were now catching up to you.

Natasha shifted her body to face towards you more, finding it easier as she no longer had to crane her neck. One of her hands left your waist and found purchase on the skin of your thigh left uncovered by your nightgown.

Much to your dissatisfaction she broke away from your lips, but you didn’t have to sulk for long when she began trailing kisses down your neck. You let out a shaky breath and allowed your eyes to shut, but you felt her stop once she reached your bare shoulder.

When you opened your eyes, you found her already looking at you.

“Is this okay?” Natasha asked. “I know we haven’t…you know…before.” she cringed at her awkwardness, “But we don’t have to if you’re not ready.”

You couldn’t help but smile at her in awe. At the way she never failed to look out for you and make sure you were comfortable.

“It’s okay, Nat. I want to.”

The redhead grinned at your consent and continued where she left off.

She slid the strap of your nightgown off your shoulder to make room as she gently nipped and kissed at the skin. The hem of it rode up on your thigh as her hand slowly inched higher and higher.

Your hand tangled into Natasha’s hair as your eyes fell shut again, a blissful sigh escaping you at the feeling of her. You felt her kiss a path back up to your lips, capturing them with her own as she began leaning over you. You took this as your sign to let her push you onto your back.

Just as her unoccupied hand fell to your back to guide you down onto the bed, there was a knock at the door. You’d barely gotten time to react before it swung open.

“Natasha, make sure you remember—” the voice began to speak yet quickly stopped after seeing the scene in front of them.

You jumped away from each other, creating as much space between the two of you as possible but it didn’t matter at that point. Melina stood in the doorway with her jaw dropped to the floor and eyes wide.

“Mom! What are you doing!? You do know it’s common curtesy to knock!?” Natasha rushed out, running a hand through her hair.

“I did knock, honey. Though, I didn’t wait for an answer. I see now that I probably should’ve…” she trailed off, glancing between the both of you.

You felt exposed under her gaze as you fixed the strap of your nightgown on your shoulder and pulled the hem down to cover your legs.

“Well did you need something?”

Melina now focused on her daughter, “I was just coming to remind you of the debriefing with Fury to go over everything tomorrow.”

“Yes, mom, I already know. I spoke with him about it.” Natasha said.

“Okay, I was just checking.” the woman explained as she began to make her way out of the room. “Don’t stay up too late, girls. And Y/n, please remember to cover up. Wouldn’t want anyone seeing those marks now would we?” she smirked before shutting the door.

Your hand instinctively came up to clutch your shoulder only to see that Melina was right.

A moment of silence passed when Natasha flopped backwards onto the bed with a groan.

You laughed at your girlfriend.

“I don’t suppose you still feel like doing this?” she asked.

You just shook your head and gave her a soft smile, “I think we should just stick to cuddling for tonight. I don’t particularly like the fact that your mother basically just watched you almost undress me.”

She chuckled, “Sorry, princess,”

“It’s fine. I liked it.” you admitted.

The redhead opened her arms invitingly with a smirk, “Good to know.”

You happily crawled into her arms and made yourself comfortable on top of her.

~ ~ ~

It’d been a week later when you guys tried again.

Your parents were hosting a ball at the castle as a charity event and despite your disinterest in functions like these, you obviously had no choice but to attend being the Princess.

What made it worse was Natasha telling you she wouldn’t be able to make it as her father had asked for her help with something.

Without her company it was difficult to avoid the elders that would question your future plans for when you become Queen, and the entitled kids of nobles who’d make terrible attempts at flirting although your relationship with the redheaded knight was well-known.

So that’s how you found yourself at the drink table for a much needed break from all the conversing. Though it was quickly cut short when Lady Hill had come to your side.

She came from a noble family whom your parents liked and always appreciated the help they provided whenever it came to the Kingdom. Through your families relations, you’d become friends with their daughter, Maria.

The brunette had always been a bit flirtatious towards you, though, that’s just how she was. Natasha on the other hand wasn’t very fond of that.

“Not enjoying the party, Your Highness?” she asked, reaching for a glass and taking a sip.

After taking a long gulp of your own drink you shrugged your shoulders, “It’s alright. I wish people would just start questioning my parents instead of me, but what can I do.”

“You could dance with me.” Maria smiled, “If people see that you’re occupied then they’ll have no choice but to leave you alone.”

Quickly, you shook your head and gave her an apologetic look, “Oh, that’s okay. I really should be getting back out there, but thank you for wanting to help.”

“Are you sure?” The brunette asked before smirking, “You know I’d make sure to give you a fun time.”

Before you got the chance to respond, hands covered your eyes and you felt a body against your back. You were about to push them away and scold the person until you heard them speak.

“Guess who,”

You would recognize that voice anywhere. Their hands fell from your eyes as you turned around to see your redhead smiling at you.

“Nat!” you grinned and wrapped your arms around her shoulders for a hug the best you could without spilling your drink on her.

“Hey, princess,” she said.

As her arms wrapped around you she made eye contact with the woman still standing there over your shoulder and sent her a glare, though Maria simply brushed it off.

“Lady Hill,” Natasha greeted her with a nod when you pulled away.

She returned the gesture, “Nice to see you again, Natasha. I was just asking the Princess if—”

“I heard you.” the redhead interrupted. “And I thought I heard her say that she was okay, so do you need anything else? I need to borrow her for a moment.”

Maria chuckled and shook her head, “Not at all. She’s all yours.” she smiled politely at the knight and watched as Natasha took your hand to lead you away, “I’ll see you around, Your Highness.”

You bade her goodbye before following your girlfriend. She’d dragged you through the crowd and towards a back exit of the ballroom. It was isolated and hardly anyone was back there.

When Natasha turned to you she was met with your face sporting a big grin. The redhead raised her eyebrows at your expression.

“What?”

“You know, I think this little war you have going on with her is all one sided.” you teased and the knight just rolled her eyes. “Maria is a good person and she respects us both enough to not actually try anything.”

“Well,” Natasha wrapped her arms around you to pull you towards her, “I guess I just wanted to give her an extra hint, and I’m happy to say she got the message.” You giggled and Natasha leaned in to give you a soft kiss.

It was short, but it still awakened the butterflies in your stomach. You pulled away with a sudden confused look and wrapped your arms around her shoulders.

“What’re you doing here? I thought you had something to do with your father.”

“I did,” she said, “But Yelena agreed to help him instead as long as I brought her food. And I’m glad I did so that I could stop Maria from trying to take what’s mine.”

You raised an eyebrow and a smirk took over your confusion as you leaned closer to her, “Oh, so I’m yours now?”

She closed the distance separating you even more as if it were a challenge, “You’ve always been mine, Princess.” Natasha whispered against your lips before connecting them with hers tenderly.

“Oh really?” you managed to mutter between kisses.

“Mhm.”

“Prove it.”

Your words made the redhead pause. She pulled away just enough to get a good look at your face to determine whether or not she correctly interpreted what you’d said.

The two of you hadn’t taken that step yet. When you tried before the last person who you would want to walk in, had walked in. But when the look in your eyes confirmed her thoughts, she smiled softly.

“Do you think anyone would notice if we left right now?” she asked.

You quickly scanned the room. Your parents were nowhere in sight. The elders who’d been pestering you earlier were immersed in yet another round of gossiping. Everyone seemed to be doing fine in your absence.

“I’d say we have a couple hours until I have to be back to start saying goodbye to all the guests.”

Natasha grinned, “I think we can make that work, yeah?”

“I think you might be right,” you giggled.

Giving her one last quick kiss to her lips, you took her hand into yours and made a B-line towards the stairs.

As you swiftly maneuvered through the crowd you avoided making eye contact with people as to not draw their attention. To anyone watching you in this moment from afar it would look as if you were on a mission they had no business interfering with.

The staircase had come into view and you were almost there, only for a figure to step out in front of you. You’d paused in your tracks so abruptly in order to stop yourself from running into them that Natasha had collided with your back.

“Y/n, darling! There you are, sweetheart. I’ve been looking for you!” your mother said.

You had to hold back a panicked look from taking over your features, and prepared to make up some type of excuse.

That you needed a few moments to get some air away from the party. Or that you suddenly weren’t feeling well and wanted to go up and rest for a bit.

But she hadn’t given you the chance to say anything when she continued talking, “Come with me, please. I have someone over here I’d like for you to meet.”

Words stuttered on the tip of your tongue as your mother was quick to wrap one arm around your shoulders.

“Mother, I—”

“Sorry to steal her from you, Natasha. She’ll come find you in a little bit.” she apologized to the redhead and your hand slipped out of hers as you were led away by your mother.

“It’s—” Natasha started to say, but at that point you two were too far away to hear her, “…Okay.”

Your head whipped around to look back at your girlfriend who stood there dumbfounded, “I’m sorry,” you mouthed to her.

Natasha just gave a small smile, letting you know that she wasn’t mad at you and watched you disappear from her line of sight.

What did it take to get some alone time in this castle?

~ ~ ~

The next time you tried was a few days later.

Your mother and father had left early in the morning, and would be gone all day due to a full schedule of council meetings.

Technically, you should have been at those meetings too. But you dreaded the idea of sitting through hours of political talk when you weren’t Queen and it wasn’t time for you to worry about those responsibilities yet.

In order for your parents to agree to let you sit this one out, you were to have a study day with Ms. Harkness instead.

She’d tutored you plenty of times when you were younger and not yet of age to begin fulfilling your duties. So it was a fair compromise.

Natasha on the other hand wasn’t exactly thrilled to know that you had the castle to yourself for the day, and yet you were too busy to have some alone time with her.

After a few sparring matches with Yelena in the courtyard that ended in the blonde quitting and dramatically accusing her of cheating, the young knight decided to check on you.

She navigated her way through the castle corridors until she reached the library where you usually study. However, she barely entered the room when Ms. Harkness appeared in front of her.

“It’s not often I see you in here Miss Romanoff,” the woman greeted.

The redhead kindly smiled, “I was actually just looking for Y/n. She is in here, right?”

“She is,” Ms. Harkness confirmed. Natasha attempted to move past her to find you, but the woman stepped in front of her again, “But the Princess is currently occupied and it’s best if her studies remained uninterrupted.”

Natasha huffed. You’d been cramped up in the library practically since the moment you woke up, so she hadn’t had a chance to see you yet.

“Could I just have a minute please?” the knight asked, “It’s kind of an emergency…” she added, hoping it would sway the woman’s decision.

Ms. Harkness eyed the young girl for a moment before humming, “Wait outside.”

Natasha did as told and waited outside the library, making herself comfortable leaning against a wall.

A few minutes must’ve passed when she finally saw you come out. You made eye contact with your girlfriend, and she noticed the almost panicked look on your face.

“Nat? Is everything okay? Ms. Harkness told me it was an emergency,” you said, clearly worried.

“Everything is fine, princess,”

“Then what’s—”

You didn’t get even halfway through your sentence before Natasha’s hand cupped your cheek to pull you in for a kiss.

The suddenness of it shocked you and your hands grasped at her forearms to steady yourself, but you quickly reciprocated nevertheless.

Her lips moved against yours tenderly and for a moment, everything around you was forced to the back of your mind.

She pulled away after a few seconds, but still hovered close, “Hi,” the redhead whispered.

You smiled softly, “Hi,”

Natasha leaned in again and you met her halfway. Her hands slid down to your waist to pull you closer and yours went up to her face as you deepened the kiss.

Your lips molded with hers perfectly, and you had no intention of returning to your studies anytime soon when Natasha was kissing you the way she was.

When air became a necessity, you parted again.

“So just to be clear,” you said as you attempted to catch your breath, “There’s not really an emergency? You’re okay?”

The redhead chuckled and rested her forehead against yours, “I’m okay, princess. Just wanted to see you.”

“That’s sweet,” you smiled faintly before pouting, your hands coming down to smooth out the fabric of her clothes on her shoulders, “But don’t scare me like that again, please.”

Natasha pecked you in apology, muttering a ‘sorry’. She’d planned to let you get back to Ms. Harkness then, but a gasp broke through the intimate moment.

“Oh!” one of the maids exclaimed and both of your heads whipped to look at the woman, “My apologies, Your Highness. I-I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll be on my way now.” she said and hurried away.

You shared a look with Natasha shared, and then your chuckles filled the silence.

“I guess we probably shouldn’t be doing this here,” the redhead commented.

Your teeth nipped at your lip as you thought for a second before fighting off a grin. Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed at the look on your face.

“What are you planning?”

You didn’t answer her.

Instead, you grabbed her hand and led her through the hallways until you reached the stairs. The knight didn’t question your motives, already piecing together what you had in mind.

When you reached your bedroom you shut the door and locked it, keeping that in mind from your past mistake. The moment you turned back to her, Natasha was already bringing you in for a kiss.

She walked you backwards, both of you breaking into giggles when you almost tripped over your own feet. Natasha placed her hands on your hips to steady you, and led you until your lower back bumped the edge of the dresser.

Her lips trailed down your neck in search of that spot she learned you liked. When she heard your breath hitch, she chucked against your skin.

Your hand gently tugged at her hair to pull her away and bring her in to kiss you instead. In a moment of boldness, your fingers trailed down and began fiddling with her clothes. That was when a thought came into the redhead’s mind that made her hesitate.

“Wait,” Natasha murmured and pulled back. Before you could panic she continued, “Isn’t Ms. Harkness expecting you? I don’t think we should do this right now if we have to be quick. I want to take my time with you.”

You smiled at the sincerity in her words. Your arms came up to wrap around her shoulders and pull her back into you.

“No,” you said, and your girlfriend looked at you confused, “I might’ve convinced her to let me off the hook for the rest of the day, so I’m all yours.”

Natasha smirked at the news and bent down to grasp the back of your thighs, lifting you into her arms. You yelped and tightened your hold on her as she walked over to the bed. She gently laid you on your back before crawling over you and smiling down at you.

Leaning in, she softly connected your lips and you smiled into the kiss. You couldn’t help but gaze into those vibrant green eyes of hers the moment you pulled away.

You were completely and utterly enamored by her, and the redhead felt the same as she looked at you.

“I am so in love with you,” Natasha whispered.

She beamed at the toothy grin on your face, “I’m so in love with you,” you said.

At that, she tilted her head down and you met her in the middle, not expecting to pull away for a while now.

~ end ~

to say this edit makes me feral is a gross understatement

IVE GOT PLANS FOR YOU

summary — natasha has plans for you, and they involve a window, fake blood, and a earth-shattering orgasm before a valentine’s day party

warning(s) — established relationship, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, fingering, hair pulling, mentioning of spanking, strap-on use, strap-on receiving (r), clit stimulation, window sex, one instance of name calling, praise kink, brief/semi orgasm control, begging, dirty talk, mention of possessiveness, hickies, biting, natasha in a suit, costume party so obviously she’s ghostface, 18+ minors dni

The lights were low as you paced the lavish ballroom, sleek kitten heels that contributed to your rather scandalous outfit thumping against the tile flooring that was sticky from spilled mixers and cheap beer despite the party not even beginning yet. The guests that you and Natasha had invited weeks ago were set to be arriving within the next hour – a few of Natasha’s friends and their respective plus ones; all people whom you’d met on prior occasions and more-or-less liked – however a twinge of uncertainty gripped you viciously as the evening drew later and the haunting uncertainty of drunken mingling hung above your head tauntingly. Things were still new with Natasha; fragile. Even if you’d been friends for nearly a decade, even if you’d been welcomed into her group of chosen family years ago when she’d found out you spend the winter holidays alone and had insisted that you join her and Maria on an undisclosed farm in Iowa, this was the first time she’d be introducing you as her girlfriend, and the thought of her friends, namely Laura and Maria, not agreeing with her decision to lean into the love she held for you, rattled your typically reserved exterior fiercely. It had been a long drawn out love affair, but the end of your passionate avoidance had been sweet and more than earned if you were allowed to offer your biased opinion. You’d break into a million pieces if the friends that she cherished didn’t agree with your romantic endeavors. Natasha wouldn’t care if they spoke out of turn and criticized her decision to finally give genuine romantic love a chance, but you would. You’d promised yourself a long time ago that you wouldn’t come between her and the happiness she more than deserved, but if her friends didn’t think that you met her standards, or if they simply didn’t approve of her dating somebody that undoubtedly would drown before they learned to match the pace of the current that life as a superhero created, you’d walk away without any hesitation. Natasha Romanoff has endured enough pain and injustice in her life, you wouldn’t further contribute to the harrowing pain that kept her up in the middle of the night, even if that meant sacrificing the one thing you’d ever been fully sure that you wanted.

“If you think any harder, you’re going to pop a vessel in that pretty little brain I love so much.” In the years that you’d known each other, Natasha had learned not to sneak up on you, but even as she assured that the heavy soles of her leather loafers made soft thudding noises as they padded against the tile flooring in the ballroom that was attentively decorated in sleek purple and orange decorations, you’d been entirely unaware of how she’d slipped in through the main entrance and set her eyes on you fondly. You’d nearly jumped out of your skin when her velvety voice interrupted the spiraling thoughts that had consumed you for the better half of an hour now, but as you settled with the realization that it was only your girlfriend coming up behind you, the comfort of her gravelly voice washed away some of the uncertainty that brought a clammy sheen to your palms. “Stop worrying so much about what they’re going to say, they already love you and you know that.” Natasha didn’t have to ask what had you so far gone in your head that you hadn’t even heard her come inside, she’d known from the first glimpse of your rigid frame across the room. Even if your romantic relationship was new, your platonic relationship had withstood fallen government agencies, aliens on Earth, and near death encounters that had both of you grasping for straws trying to keep any sliver of normalcy intact however you could. It had been Thanos that finally brought the two of you together, even if twinges of romantic possibility had existed for years before she impulsively swan-dove off a cliff on an alien planet with only the hope that Clint would find a way to get her back to you. She knows everything about you, but more than that, you know everything about her. You know that when she smiles with her teeth, it’s because she’s uncomfortable, as odd as that had initially been to wrap your head around. You know that when she seeks you out in the middle of the night in an oversized hoodie, she’d been woken up by paralyzing fear. You know that she likes cinnamon in her hot chocolate, and that when she looks at you the way she is now, with her chin tilted downward and her eyes set firmly on yours, she’s trying her hardest not to stare down at your chest where your nipples pebble beneath thin material.

“They love me as your friend, they could hate me as your girlfriend. I mean, I know nothing about how to survive in your world, Natasha. I’m a liability. What if another alien – like Loki! – comes to Earth and you have to get out, but you’re held back because I don’t know what’s important to bring to a safe-house. I mean, really, just caring about me at all could be the reason you don’t make it if something-” The second you’d started vocalizing the worries that plagued you, it had been practically impossible to cut yourself off, your eyes become glassy with that far away gleam Natasha hated. That had always been where you differed. Where Natasha was calculated, you were spontaneous. Where she had a plan for everything, even the miniscule things like grocery shopping in a crowded stripmall, you flew by the seat of your pants. You’d never needed to have a plan before you allowed her world to become intertwined with yours, but Natasha’s entire life had revolved around having multiple at a time. She’d come to know how to silence your anxieties in the years that had led up to this current moment, and without a moment of hesitation, her lips crashed into yours, and she allowed her blood splattered palms to frame your face as her teeth sank into your lower lip, nibbling on the pink-hued skin in a way that had your eyes fluttering closed and your fingers digging into the lapels of her blazer yearning for more. She’d wanted to be Ghostface for the Valentines Day costume party Pepper scammed her into hosting, but Natasha was nothing if not elaborate, and somehow, she’d constructed the costume from an old suit that had been abandoned in the back of her closet for years, the plastic mask that laid around somewhere displaced for the time being the only authentic element of her attire. You didn’t care for how she most definitely clashed with the existing image of the movie’s villain, thinking the fitted suit and the cuffed sleeves fit her exterior perfectly.

When she pulled away, only because you’d stopped breathing to instead attempt to match the weight conveyed in her kiss, her eyebrows furrowed in contemplation as she cradled your face sweetly. You frowned curiously, head tilting to the side as you tried to figure out where her thoughts had drifted to in such a short span of time. “What’s my name?” The words fell off her lips just as heavily as your anxious rambling had slipped into the air between the both of you, only Natasha’s eyes hadn’t glazed over like she was trapped in a memory and couldn’t decipher where she was. The enchanting green color that you’d spent so many nights gazing into were dark now, twisted with something wicked that was yet to be discovered by you. It never failed to amaze you how even after years of truly knowing each other, you could still be thrown off by her simplest of expressions.

You pulled away from her lips regretfully, your palm on her cheek framing the expression clouding her sparkling features. Shades of red and pink were thrown around the room, but nothing looked as sweet as her red hair falling over her shoulder in waves, catching rays of light that refracted off of skyscrapers in the distance. “Natasha.” You breathed dreamily, dazed by her gentle love that gripped you tight.

“No, what’s my name when it’s just us?” Natasha backed you up against the window forcefully, the air slipping from your lungs as your shoulder blades thumped against frigid glass before your spine met the same fate, her hands on your hips now keeping you still. A low moan slipped off of your lips, eyes that were once ablaze with anxiety now sparkling with lust as you understood what she was getting at.

When you didn’t answer, too drunk on the passion behind her glimmering jewel eyes, a hand left your hip to cradle your face, but in seconds that grip became steeled on your jaw and your eyes watered as you trembled beneath her touch. “Daddy.” The plea fell off of your tongue pathetically, your head lulling to the side when she loosened her grip.

“You gonna be a good girl for me? Let Daddy play with you before her friends get here?” She traced the side of your face, drawing her nail down your warm skin until goosebumps collected on your arms. You preened beneath her attention, trying to follow the path of her fingers but in a second that delicate brush against your cheek turned into a tight grip on your hair, spinning you around like a ragdoll until your chest was flush against the windows, your shaky breath fogging the glass as you gazed down beneath you. A gasp fell off of your lips when cold hands that were splattered in fake blood because Natasha Romanoff could never do anything casually despite trying to portray indifference at all times snuck up your thighs, creeping beneath the hem of your dress until they found damp fabric to taunt. “Gonna let me clear that pretty head? Make it all fuzzy and sweet the way I like? Oh, I’ve got plans for you, baby girl.” You could’ve rolled your eyes at the cocky reiteration of ghostface’s line, but you were otherwise focused on something else.

“Nat–” You breathed, a sweet groan falling off of your lips when she pulled at your hair again, the rest of her name falling off your tongue as you tried to dig your nails into slick glass.

“That’s not my name, Princess.” She teased, grinding her hips into yours. Your surprised gasp fogged the window up more, your view of the street below obstructed now. But you weren’t. Your body wasn’t. Natasha wasn’t. If anyone looked up, glanced toward the windows for even a second, they’d see your intoxicating frame flush against the glass. They’d see your knuckles bent, practically white, desperate for a grip on something. They’d notice the fog on the windows, but also the way your chin was lifted away from the surface, held taught by pale hands. They’d see the way your dress rises every time Natasha grounds her hips into your core. They’d see her pulling this reaction from your willing body. “Do you feel that, baby? Can you feel Daddy’s cock?”

“Mhm.” You hummed desperately, your eyes pinched shut tightly as your body became putty beneath her touch. Your knees threatened to buckle beneath the pleasure of Natasha’s touch when she pulled your sodden panties to the side, hiking your dress up beyond your hips until nothing kept your core from her touch or the eyes of strangers below you. A strangled cry slipped off of your lips when her fingers, two of them, plunged into your sopping core. Your walls strained to accept the squeeze, fluttering around her second knuckle as she worked them deeper into you. “P-Please. Just fuck me, Nat.”

“When are you going to learn, sweetheart? It’s Daddy to you.” A hand slapped against the globe of your ass before her fingers slipped out from your tempting heat. She smeared the stringy evidence of your arousal against the insides of your thighs, her nails leaving trails of red as she marks her claim on your body. If her friends look closely tonight, then they’ll all see the evidence of her on your body. It’s what she wants though. You’ve known it since the moment she tangled her fingers into your hair.

You don’t know when she unzipped her pants, but between the second clap to your ass and her teeth sinking into the side of your neck, the strap that was once hidden beneath the confines of her slacks pressed firmly to your weeping entrance. A tilt of her hips had you weak against the window, a loud whine tearing through your chest as she set a brutal pace without warning. “Daddy!” You called out to her, a pleasure-filled twinge to your breathy plea as one hand reached back to slap against her ribs, reaching for a hand to hold as every nerve in your body sparked to life.

Her hips slapped against yours every time she thrusted into you, the grooves along the strap creating friction against that sweet spot inside of you. You gasped when her fingers joined the mix between your legs, playing with your clit like she knew your every tell and she did. The relationship might be new, but the sex wasn’t, and she knew your every tell and twitch without even thinking about them anymore. “Oh, you’re getting close for me pretty girl? Squeezing me so tight.”

“Please! Please, Daddy!” You begged mindlessly, not a single thought in your head besides how good it felt to have her slamming into you without restraint. When she hit a particular spot, you saw stars, and your head lulled back onto her shoulder. Her hand came up to frame your throat, pulling you flush against her chest as she demanded you hold it. “I can’t! Daddy, I can’t.”

“You’re going to.” She seethed, snapping her hips up into you harder. Her pace was punishing, and the hand between your legs didn’t quit despite her warning. Right as you considered giving into the pleasure and breaking her rules, her thumb hooked onto your jaw, pulling your lips to meet hers in a needy embrace. “Cum for me, baby. Make a mess on my cock. Such a fucking slut. Getting fucked in front of a window, right before all of our friends come over. God, I love you.”

You moaned into her mouth as you came undone around her strap, bucking into her chest before you collapsed entirely, but Natasha wasn’t done with you yet. Her pace only quickened, her arms the only thing holding you upright as she chased her own high. It felt euphoric, every snap of her hips, every point of sharp pressure along your hips as her nails dug into you. To be used by her was to be loved so fully you didn’t even know how to process the sensation.

“Good girl. Good girl.” She choked out between raged moans, her grip on you softening as she finally wavered. She leaned up against your body, trapping you against the window as she laughed breathlessly, kissing you sweetly as she calmed down. “I love you.”

“I kinda figured as much when you asked me to be your valentine.” You teased, cheeks flush and eyes glassy as you gazed up at her dreamily. “I love you.”

can i have you for a moment please

Have you seen the "very demure, very cutesy" trend? How about pranking nat centering that trend somehow, e.g., just randomly blurting out that sentence every time she says something or etc.

Love your writing btw!

Very mindful

an: I hope you like it; this was so fun to write!! <3

pairings: natasha x reader

CW: talks about alcohol and alcohol consumption.

word count: 0.8k

Natasha is a gentle lover, and her love language is 100% acts of service or words of affirmation. She wouldn't be big on touch, until she got to fully feel comfortable around you, then she would never let you go, almost like you were her harbor when she was drifting away, calling her back to you with just your touch.

Natasha always like to talk to you about what your doing, what book your reading, music you listen to, your plans for the day if she's off to the compound. Your sleep pattern is pretty much identical to hers now given how long you have lived with her and how much of a light sleeper you were, Nat getting out of bed in the morning wakes you and then your up for the day too.

Natasha loves to surprise you, too; she will go out of her way to read the books you are reading or have read, just for a topic of conversation with you. You tell her you're reading The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Natasha didn't expect to relate and love the book nearly as much as she did. You were out with your friends for a few hours for coffee, leaving Nat at home with a glass of wine and the beautiful words of Dostoyevsky to keep her company.

She must've fallen asleep because the sky was growing darker when she woke, and your keys were shuffling around in the keyhole. Natasha sat up and continued reading waiting for you to come and join her. "Hi love", you smile sitting down next to her, eyeing the book. "Are you... are you reading the same book as me?" you ask nudging her with your shoulder.

"I wanted to talk to you about it," she says shyly, feeling embarrassed that she had been caught. Awe, don't go all shy on me, Talia. I think it's sweet, very mindful of you, very demure," you say, giggling. Natasha looks at you as though you have three heads. "I'm sorry, very what?" she asks, looking so confused that you can't help but giggle more.

Tony had invited all the gang and their plus ones for a family dinner, courtesy of Wanda's cooking. You are sitting down talking with Bucky about what he thinks you should read next and what you think he would like, when you see a glass of wine right in front of your face. You smiled, thanking her, taking it from Natasha's hands and taking a little sip. "See how you didn't even have to ask for that glass of wine, she just poured you one?" Kate said, giving Yelena a subtle look. "Very cutesy", "Very mindful", "Very demure"; Peter, Thor and you replied, sending you four into a fit of giggles. Yelena rolled her eyes dramatically and went to the kitchen, to pour Kate a glass.

"Seriously, what is this?" Natasha says from behind you, her hands on your shoulders. "It's a little trend that's going around on the internet", Peter explains to Nat, humming, taking a sip of her drink. She gently pinched your shoulder making you quietly laugh to your self, leaning back into her.

Natasha had been called in for a meeting early in the morning; she knew she woke you up getting out of bed, so as she was getting ready, she made sure to make a pot of coffee for you when you finished getting ready for the day.

You came out of the bedroom just after Natasha had left, seeing that she had made you a pot of coffee all to yourself, and it was still warm, brought a big smile to your face. You sent her a quick message expressing your thanks ('A pot of hot, brewed coffee to start my day, very mindful of you ;)') and poured yourself a cup before starting your early day working from home.

Natasha heard her phone buzz and chuckled, reading your message, shaking her head, redirecting her focus back to the meeting.

By 10 am, you had finished all your work and decided to go for a walk in the park to find a nice place to sit and read. You stopped at a cute little cafe on your way, opting to get one for Nat, too, who said she'd meet you when she's finished.

You had found a nice little place to sit down, and read a few chapters by the time Nat had found you -thanks to sharing your location- and came and sat with you, taking her coffee out of the cardboard cup holder. "Getting me a coffee?" she smirks, wrapping her arm around you. "Very mindful of you", she chuckles when you laugh out loud, drawing a few curious eyes and curling your face into her neck. "You, of all people, did not just say that", you giggle.

Over time it became a little joke between you and the red head, and each time it gets more funnier.

i hope this is okay and that you like it, thank you for the request!! 🫂💗

That was soooo good

Run, baby, run

Summary: Natasha is very competitive, and that includes your daughter.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Based on some real life events lol

Natasha was a lot of different things for many people. Depending on who you ask -friends, foes, family- she could be stubborn, deadly, relentless. To you she was kind, loving and supportive, in a way that no one else knew.

You would all agree on one thing, though.

Natasha was too competitive.

Being married for three years, you’d grown used to it. As a matter of fact, it could be entertaining especially if she was playing pool or darts against the boys.

But this morning, when she shows you the flyer, you actually have to look twice, sure that Natasha lost her mind.

“Baby crawl race?”

“Yeah, only for babies under one year. You know, they set a track and time them…”

“I mean, I figured. I just… why would we want Anya to do that?”

Your daughter perks up when she hears her name being called and you both smile.

Anya is ten months old, but she’s way advanced for her age. It must be Natasha’s genes, because you’re sure that before she turns one, she will be walking or even running after her other mother.

“It sounds fun”

“And winning has nothing to do with it?” you press, reading about the prizes. “Everything listed here are things we already have. A stroller, a crib… ooh, a formula machine, fancy”

“We can still register if we leave now” Natasha picks up Anya from her playpen, and the sight of their matching red hair melts your heart as usual.

“Fine. We better get going”

—

To your surprise, there are over a dozen babies registered to compete. Natasha takes care of everything as you walk around the store where they’re hosting the event.

She comes back with a smile and a little paper with the number 17 on it.

“Your lucky number” she smiles at you, taking Anya in her arms.

You both watch as other kinds play and stumble around the mat. Most of them seem younger than your daughter, and only a few look close to being one year.

“That one’s gonna be easy to beat” Natasha muses, looking at a small kid that can barely sit.

“Natalia” you slap her arm. “He’s a baby”

“No. They are all competition. And we have no mercy, right, detka?” Natasha insists, bouncing your daughter in her arms.

“Alright, I’m changing her diaper before everything gets crazier” you decide, noticing how there’s a crowd forming around the place where the kids will crawl.

You make small talk with some of the clerks, who seem excited at the prospect of a silly race that will entertain them in the middle of their shift.

By the time you return, Natasha’s quiet, looking at the parents and their children.

“Everything ok?”

“Perfect” she nods, taking Anya in her arms. “Now, kiddo, listen to me, we are Romanoffs. We are fighters and more importantly, winners. So go and make us proud”

Anya responds by giggling and pulling a strand of her mother’s hair. Natasha smiles, saying something in Russian and kissing Anya’s cheek.

The mat is split in half so only two kids can compete at the same time, a screen with a timer behind them.

As expected, some of the kids get distracted by their race mate or crawl around instead of going in a straight line.

“What did I tell you? We’re gonna crush the opponents” Natasha whispers and you slap her arm.

She’s taking this way too seriously.

As you stand next to some parents, Natasha sniffs around, speaking into Anya’s back.

“Baby, did you go potty?”

“I don’t think so” you know Anya frowns and makes a little grunt when she does number two and she’s been pretty quiet this whole time.

“Oh, never mind” she turns to the parents standing next to you. “Not ours, detka”

The parents hurry to the bathroom. There’s a nagging feeling at the back of your mind when you notice how quiet Natasha is. It increases when the parents miss the race because they were stuck chaning a diaper.

Your wife tries to hide her smile, but there’s no way she planned this. Just a coincidence.

Right?

“Babies 10 and 11” the organizer calls. You noticed the girl is older than the other kids, standing out because she can close the distance faster.

“Best time has been 55 seconds. This should be interesting” Natasha comments.

Sure enough, the kid is about to finish when a bright blue ball crosses her path, getting her distracted and making her return to the start line.

The parents try to guide her back but it doesn’t work at all.

“Oh, well”

“Try not to look so happy about it” you whisper, but Natasha just chuckles and places a kiss in your temple.

After a few more minutes, it’s Anya’s turn. You carry her to the start line and Natasha kneels at the end of the mat, keeping her eyes focused on your daughter.

“Three, two, one. Go!”

All Natasha has to do is place her open palm on the mat. Anya’s seen her do it so many times and knows it means one thing: as soon as she touches her mama’s hand, she’ll throw her in the air the way she loves to.

It takes Anya 15 seconds to get to Natasha. Your wife rewards her with her favorite thing, and if it were anyone less graceful and quick, you’d be unnerved by the sight of your daughter kicking her feet while being lifted off the ground.

“Nicely done, pumpkin” you join them, smiling as Anya jumps to your arms.

“A worthy adversary, at last” a man comments as he takes his son to the race. “Let’s see if we can do it better than you”

“Doubt it” Natasha glares but you elbow her, smiling at the man.

“She meant to say, good luck. You’ll do great, sweetheart” you smile at his son, who waves back at you with wide eyes. He’s incredibly cute.

“Fraternizing with the enemy” Natasha tsks.

“He’s a baby, Nat”

“I didn’t like the way the father was looking at you either” Natasha grumbles, leaning forward to kiss you.

Definitely not complaining about her competitive streak now.

As your declared enemy gets ready to race, the father frantically looks around for something lost on their backpack.

“Did you bring it?” his wife insists.

“Yes! The purple elephant! We were playing with it a second ago!”

Apparently, that was their only resource, because the timer starts and their kid is focusing on everything but them.

They manage to finish after two minutes.

“Better luck next time” Natasha comments as they leave, her hand going around your waist.

She’s being so ridiculous but somehow you love it.

The winners are announced, and you cheer when the first place goes to none other than Anya Romanoff.

“Yes, baby. We are the champions” Natasha sings, bouncing her around. Anya has no idea what’s happening, but she’s enjoying the moment.

“Very nice” you comment when the organizers hand you the prize. “Good work, Anya. Keep it up and maybe we won’t have to pay for college”

“Of course she’ll get a scholarship. Or become a professional athlete. Or become president” Natasha says, walking back to the car.

“Oh, those are a lot of things. Maybe she’ll want to focus on just one”

“Nah, she’s got it. She’ll do it all” Natasha kisses Anya’s head and you can’t help but melt.

“Best thing you ever won?” you ask Natasha as you drive back home.

“No, that would be you” she says. “Of course, I mean the bet I made with Tony that I’d get you to date me over him”

“Ugh, you’re so ridiculous” you roll your eyes.

—

The excitement of the race exhausts your daughter, and she’s fast asleep by the time you get home.

You know this won’t last long, so you prepare her clothes to run a bath once she’s up.

As you’re going through her bag, you pull out a toy that’s definitely not Anya’s.

A purple elephant.

“Natalia Alianovna Romanova!” you shout, looking for her.

“Oh-oh” Natasha mutters and clears her throat. “Yes, dear?”

“You took that baby’s toy!”

“I did not! Ok, I did. But look, I timed him when they were practising and Anya’s time was still better. I just really didn’t like the way he was staring at your boobs”

“Mhm, right. Winning was just a plus”

“See? You get me”

“That ball that distracted the other kid was not a mistake either, huh?”

“I don’t know what you mean, darling”

“And the parents that missed the race for changing the diaper?”

“Now, that was just a happy coincidence. The rest, yeah. Totally me”

“Evil! Stealing a toy from a toddler” you wave the purple elephant in her face. Natasha takes it and throws it over her shoulder, wrapping your legs around her waist in a swift motion. “What are you doing?”

“I got you that fancy formula machine, didn’t I? Where’s my prize?”

You laugh against her lips, but it soon turns into a moan, as you feel Natasha’s hands slide down your back to cup your ass.

“Anya's gonna wake up in thirty minutes or less. Can you handle that?”

“I do enjoy a good challenge” Natasha says against your lips, showing you how much she loves to win.

And honestly? After a mind blowing orgasm, you love it too.