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dirtyvulture · 3 days
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It's an honor to be drilled by this woman
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Drill Lessons
Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
Natasha shows you how to use a power tool and your mutual crush comes to light
Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral (N and R receiving)
Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist
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To you, Natasha Romanoff is the most beautiful woman to ever walk the earth.
You’ve been wanting to tell her for months that you like her. Ever since you joined the team you’ve had feelings for her. But you can’t get a read on her.
You have no idea if she has feelings for you too. Sometimes it feels like she’s flirting with you but then you see or hear her act the same way with one of the guys and you brush it off as nothing.
This weekend Clint invited everyone to his farm to enjoy a quick getaway and clear your heads. Missions hadn’t been easy lately, so you all needed the reprieve.
When you arrive, Natasha walks in the house first. She’s clearly very comfortable here.
“Welcome!” Laura says to everyone. “Come on in. Make yourselves at home!”
“Thank you for having us, Mrs. Barton,” you say when you greet her.
“Oh please, called me Laura,” she says. Then she addresses everyone, “We don’t have enough rooms so you’ll have to share. Nat, can y/n sleep with you?”
You try not to have a visceral reaction to the idea. You hold your breath as you await her reply.
“Sure,” Nat simply says. She turns to you, “I’ll show you the way.”
You follow her up the stairs where you run across a couple of kids.
“Auntie Nat?” A girl asks, in shock of seeing Nat.
“Hey malyshka,” Natasha replies. She brings the girl in for a hug. “Lila, this is y/n. Hopefully you won’t discover you like her more than you like me.”
You smile and wave to Lila. She returns the smile before running off downstairs.
Nat takes you down the hallway and to what appears to be her bedroom when she stays here. There are photos of the Barton family and Nat on the dresser. You admire how happy she looks here.
“I always sleep on the door side, but we’ll do whatever you feel comfortable with,” Nat says.
“Oh, either side works for me.”
Nat nods. You set your bag down on the bed and unpack a few things. Natasha moves around the room, gathering a few of her own things.
You both go back downstairs for the rest of the evening. Nothing too eventful happens. Everyone makes plans to spend time outside tomorrow.
Natasha is first to the bedroom. She slips into the bed casually. You try to do the same but fail miserably at not looking nervous.
“I don’t bite, you know,” Nat says teasingly.
“Right,” you respond too quickly. “I just- sorry.”
“Relax, y/n,” she says. You settle on your side of the bed. “Goodnight.”
“Night, Natasha.”
You both drift off into a peaceful sleep. You first, and then Natasha.
At some point during the night, you end up snuggling close to Natasha. She wakes up to the feeling of your arm draping over her. But she doesn’t mind it. Actually, she likes it.
When you wake up in the morning, you find yourself still nestled in her arms.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say, trying to move off of her.
“Hey, it’s fine,” Nat says, only tightening her grip a bit before letting you loose. “So, you’re a cuddler, huh?”
You look away shyly and Nat just smirks. Now you definitely can’t believe you slept next to Natasha and accidentally snuggled with her all night. She doesn’t say anything else about it until you go downstairs for the day.
“Good morning!” Laura greets. She’s pulling fresh biscuits from the oven. “How did you sleep?”
“Good,” you answer briefly.
“She sure was cozy,” Nat interjects. It’s just Laura in the room with you two, but you still try to hold back a blush.
“Mhm, I’m sure,” Laura replies. Somehow you’re sure she knows the way you feel about Nat and how Nat feels about you.
Soon, the boys come tumbling into the kitchen. You all go outside to do your respective chosen activities. Steve promised to show you how to chop wood while Nat and Clint run off to the barn to build a new shelter for some of the animals.
“So, what’s the deal with you and Romanoff?” Steve asks after a few minutes of chopping the wood.
“Oh, is there- is there a me and Romanoff?”
“Is there not?” He asks genuinely. “I’m sorry. I just thought that you two- nevermind.”
“It’s okay,” you reply, shrugging.
It does leave you wondering if the other members of the team think something is happening there too. You try not to think about it too much as you continue to work outside. The fresh air does wonders for you.
Steve asks you to go grab the axe sharpening block from the barn, so you walk to the structure. When you get there, you catch sight of something that makes your jaw practically drop to the ground.
Natasha is wearing only a blank tank top and shorts are she uses a power drill to build a wooden structure. Sweat drips down her neck and chest as she expertly uses the tool.
You swear she catches the sight of you out of the corner of her eye, but she continues on with her drilling. She lifts heavy pieces of wood with ease. You can’t stop staring.
Nat lifts her tank top up to wipe the sweat from her face. You see her ab happy stomach and the sports bra that’s keeping the rest of her skin covered.
“Enjoying the view?” Nat says aloud. You’ve definitely been caught now.
“Oh, I was just-“ you start, but there’s no use. You were doing exactly that. “My bad.”
“Don’t apologize,” Nat says. “Come on in, what did you need?”
“We needed the axe sharpener block thing?”
“Is that a question?”
“Well, I don’t know what it is so yes?”
Nat chuckles. She turns to look at the shelf behind her for the tool you need. Her backside somehow looks just as good as her front.
“Here you go,” Nat says. She hands you the block. You are standing close to her now. “The real fun is happening in there though. I can show you how to use this.”
She gestures to the drill in her left hand, pressing her finger on the trigger to make it whir. You shouldn’t be so intrigued by it. Or by her for that matter. But you are.
“Maybe tomorrow you can show me?” You ask her.
“How about tonight?” Nat asks. Her voice drops an octave. You pray she means what you think she means.
You swallow shyly and Nat shoots you a smile. Slowly, you leave her there and go back to Steve. He doesn’t mention how long it took you to get the tool, thank goodness.
Later that day, you all grill out burgers and hotdogs. Clint tries to show off his grilling skills, but the team just gives him a hard time saying that it’s not all that hard anyways.
By the time evening comes, everyone’s sitting around a campfire. Natasha sits across from you. She glances at her phone and then to you as a way of alerting you to look at your phone.
The text reads: Meet me in the barn. 10 minutes.
You nod in her direction to acknowledge you got the message. The minutes pass by and you both leave to go to the barn.
When you get inside, Nat is already over by the wood she was working with earlier.
“Come on, I’ll show you,” Nat says.
“Okay,” you agree. You stand next to her.
“First things first, always know your surroundings,” Nat says.
She abruptly places her hands on your hips. She easily moves you to the right and left to observe your surroundings. Your heart stops when she reaches around you and her face is mere inches from yours.
She steps back and has a pair of clear glasses in her hand.
“And wear safety glasses,” she says. She places them on your face. You’re sure you look like an absolute fool. “Cute.”
“You didn’t wear these yesterday,” comes your reply.
“That’s because I’m an expert,” Nat says. She surprises you by pinching your cheeks. “You’ll get there, sweetheart.”
Natasha grabs the drill and ushers you to move closer to the wood with her. She takes you through step by step on how to use the power tool.
“Now, you can try,” Nat says.
“Okay,” you reply. You feel a little nervous about trying it. Nat assures you that you can’t mess it up.
You try to focus even with Nat being so close to you. For the first time using a drill, you don’t do terribly.
“Nice job, y/n,” Nat says. “But you’ll want to apply more pressure. Let me help you, sweetheart.”
Natasha places her hand on yours and pushes down on the drill. You pull the trigger and drill the screw into the wood. Her hot breath is on your neck.
You smile at your success and turn just enough to look at Nat. She’s just inches from you.
“Should we take this inside?” Nat asks. Her eyes glance to your lips and back up to your eyes. She brings her other hand to your cheek and brushes the back of it against it.
“Are you- um- yes?”
“Yes? Or yes.”
“The second one,” you say. Natasha smirks at you.
You leave the drill and safety glasses behind. Natasha holds your hand as she walks you to the house. You slip upstairs easily and she closes her bedroom door behind her.
“I’ve had my eye on you for a while,” Natasha says.
“Really?” You ask innocently.
“Really, detka. Come here,” she says, bringing you to the bed with her.
You sit next to her and she kisses you softly. It’s like floating on a cloud. You didn’t think she would be this gentle. But you’re loving it.
“May I?” Nat asks, gesturing to your shirt. You nod. She lifts the material over your head. “Beautiful.”
You feel sure you’re blushing at her words and the way her eyes rake over your body.
“Can I- um?” You pull at her tank top hem.
“Yes, baby,” Natasha says. “You can do anything to me.”
You lift the thin material over her head. Your heart stops at her beauty. You immediately lean forward and take her nipple into your mouth. It surprises Natasha how intentional you are being.
“Fuck, baby.”
“Is this okay?” You ask, pulling away a bit. Nat pulls your head back to her breasts. You’ll take that as a yes.
Natasha fumbles with your pants. She gets them unbuttoned but grumbles in frustration when she can’t get them off. You chuckle against her.
“Okay, hold on,” Nat says. She stands up and pulls her own pants down before grabbing you by the hips and pulling you up too.
Natasha takes your pants off with ease this time and slips them down your legs along with your underwear. She grins and drops to her knees. It doesn’t take her long to get to work licking and sucking at your pussy.
“Oh my god,” you moan out.
“You taste so good, baby. All for me,” Nat says.
“Fuck.”
You feel close to coming embarrassingly quickly but Natasha is proud of her work.
“Come for me, y/n,” she says. Her voice drips with sex.
“Fuck, Natasha!”
You come hard against her tongue. She licks you clean and stands back up. She kisses you deeply. It’s the most on fire you have ever felt.
“I want to taste you,” you tell Nat.
“Your wish is my command,” Nat says. She lays on the bed and you crawl over her body.
“So beautiful,” you say as you kiss from between her breasts down to her hips.
“You’re not so shy now are you?” Nat asks. You answer by diving into her wet pussy.
Her folds are slick and she’s ready for you. You lick and suck her, cherishing every noise she makes.
“Fuck, baby,” Nat says. “I’m going to come.”
“Come for me, Natasha.”
She does just that. You relish in the sounds she makes. You move back up her body and lay next to her.
“So, all of those times I thought you were flirting with me you actually were?” You break the silence.
Nat chuckles. “Yes, y/n. I’ve been hinting at it for months. I’m glad we finally got on the same page.”
She looks at you through her long eyelashes. You rest your head on her shoulder.
“I’ve always liked you, Natasha,” you say. “Do you think the team noticed we left?”
“Nah,” Nat says. “Even if they did, I don’t care. I have you.”
“You sure do.”
You snuggle further into Natasha. She holds you close as you lay together and talk for hours.
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dirtyvulture · 3 days
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Screaming, crying, and throwing up over this.
(Also extremely motivated to finish my Wolverine!R fic now 👀)
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dirtyvulture · 4 days
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@danonered has spoken
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See you all for Part 2 soon :)
Envy and Venom
Heiress!Natasha Romanoff x CEO!Beefy!Fem!Reader
18+ only, read at your own risk
Summary: You are the notorious playboy who just inherited one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Your first move? Sleeping with the heiress of your rival company.
Word count: 4190
AN: Randomly came up with this idea, it's a little different than my other stuff, but give it a read. :)
DAY 1
“You couldn’t have picked a better person for the job,” you tease, gripping tightly onto your father’s hand as the sea of flashing lights fifteen feet away practically blinds you. The reporters call out for your attention but you ignore them, pausing in the awkward, hand-holding pose with your father so the photo can be plastered across the front page of news outlets around the world. 
“I trust you. Don’t ruin what I’ve started,” your father says, grabbing onto your shoulder and pulling you into a tight embrace. “And please try to keep your…escapades…a little more under wraps, okay?” he whispers into your ear. 
“I’ll try, Dad,” you say, but it isn’t really your fault that the public was so interested in what goes on in your bedroom. Then again, you hadn’t exactly been trying to be subtle when you were fucking your secretary against the penthouse window of your apartment, but people should try to mind their own business more. 
Your father pushes you back and the two of you turn in unison to wave at the crowd once more. 
“Congratulations!” you hear them echoing. “To Envy Industries’ new CEO, Y/N!”
***********************************************************************
Naturally, to celebrate your latest achievement, you host the party of the century, inviting other world-renowned millionaires, fellow tech company gurus, actors, singers, celebrities, and pretty much anyone else who fit society’s thinly-veiled description of “famous.” You initially show up with two models you had already spent the afternoon with, but you weren’t interested in stringing them along and were excited to find some new target to chase after. 
The first hour alone is spent wading through faces you recognize from online but have no personal connection with, and you have to pretend that you’re grateful when they take enough interest and ask about the future of your company. 
“We’ll probably stick to the production of GPUs for a while,” you say, yelling to be heard over the music and rumble of people. “We just signed a huge contract with Tesla, so we’ll be supplying all the hardware they need for their next products. They have a big need for AI software, and we’re one of the few companies that can build exactly what they need.”
“Wow, that’s very impressive.” The short-haired blonde woman suddenly throws herself at you, her nails digging into your bicep so hard you can feel the prick through your burgundy silk jacket.
“Thank you.” You’re not sure you’ve ever seen this woman before in your life and you wonder if she even understood half of what you were saying or she was just trying to get into your pants.
“I’m Carol, by the way. Do you want to get a drink?”
“I would never say no to a drink.” You let Carol lead you to the bar (that you are footing the bill for) and she orders for you, picking an old-fashioned cocktail for you. A decent choice, but if she had read your interview in The Chief Executive Magazine, she would have known that your favorite drink was actually a vodka martini. You join her at an empty table.
“So, what do you do for a living?” you ask out of politeness, taking a sip and letting the whiskey burn your throat.  
“I’m an influencer,” Carol says. “I have one-point-seven million followers on Tik Tok right now. I mostly post fitness routines or travel vlogs. And I also stream video games on Twitch.”
“Ah.” Now it’s your turn to act like you’re impressed when you have no idea what she’s talking about. 
Carol drones on about her next project, which involves a collaboration with another influencer you’ve never heard of. Your eyes scan the people walking by, looking for a new object of infatuation. It doesn’t take long until you make eye contact with a beautiful, redheaded woman, her voluptuous body hugged by an emerald green dress. Immediately, your heart rate spikes as you scan her up and down, not predatorily, but admiringly. The neckline of her dress plunges down to her belly button, a tasteful hint of her cleavage showing through, highlighted by a long  silver necklace with a thin gold bar tassel. 
You perk up, smoothing your hair back and puffing out your chest like a proud pigeon when she starts walking over.
“Congratulations,” the redhead says. “Your family must be very proud of you.”
“My dad didn’t want to give it to me,” you admit, completely oblivious to Carol’s pout as you instantly give your attention to this new woman. “But I convinced him the company would be in good hands.”
“I bet.”
“Can I get you a drink?” you ask, desperate to keep around for the conversation (and perhaps more).
“I should be the one treating you,” the redhead says. She takes the cocktail out of your hands and brings it to her lips. “Hmm. I didn’t think this was your taste,” she notes. “How does a vodka martini sound?”
You know instantly this is the woman you’re taking home with you tonight. “That sounds delightful.”
***********************************************************************
You ditch Carol without a second thought and follow the redhead back to the bar, where she picks up two vodka martinis. She brings you to a private booth, sitting so close to you that your knees are touching hers. You can almost feel her body heat through the fabric of your clothes. 
“To Envy Industries’ long and prosperous future,” she says, raising her drink in a toast.
“Cheers.” You clink your glass to hers and drink half of it in one long sip, smiling in satisfaction. “I didn’t catch your name,” you say.
“Natasha.” It sparks a familiar memory, a name you’ve heard before. But she’s so intoxicating that you give it no second thought. Natasha is one of the most gorgeous women you’ve ever seen in your life and you can’t believe she’s sitting here talking to you and you alone.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” you say, formally offering her your hand. She shakes it, and you gently bring her hand up to your lips to kiss her knuckles.
“Likewise,” she says, crossing one perfectly toned leg over the other, her foot nudging the back of your calf. “Not to eavesdrop, but I overheard you mention a contract with Tesla. Say what you want about that company, but you can’t deny the evidence that they’re one of the highest valued companies in the world. I wouldn’t be surprised if Envy Industries is soon up there with them.”
“Exactly.” Your interest in this woman skyrockets, because you know she isn’t bullshitting you. She isn’t like Carol. She knows what she’s talking about. 
“We’ve been trying to strike deals with the automotive industry for years,” Natasha goes on, “But you’ve beat us to it. And now that you’ve partnered up with Tesla, you’re basically unstoppable.”
“Not quite,” you correct, now unable to stop yourself from unraveling the schemes of your company’s next five years. “Our research on artificial intelligence is just getting started. We just applied for ten new patents within computing technologies and we’re on track to absolutely dominate the market for discrete graphics processing units by the end of the year.” 
Natasha grins at your enthusiasm and you feel yourself blush in embarrassment. You know the media often labeled you as stupid, reckless, irresponsible, unfit to lead, and constantly bashed your sexual appetite, but you were all those things and a technology genius. Your father had built this company from the ground up, but you had been there alongside him the past six years. While everyone classified your promotion to CEO as nepotism, you felt you had rightfully earned it. 
“I don’t know how you do it,” she comments.
“Well, it definitely wouldn’t be wise for the new CEO to be giving away all the secrets, now would it?” you chuckle, even though you’ve definitely already said more than you should’ve. 
“Your success is no trade secret.” Natasha turns her whole body to face you. The attention she’s giving you is almost more than you can bear. Your heart pounds against your chest. No woman has ever made you this excited before. “But if you want, maybe we can go somewhere a little more private, where you can share whatever else you’d like.”
“Hmm.” It was rare for another woman to be so bold with you. But you’ve never lusted after another woman like Natasha before. Arousal heats up in your stomach as Natasha leans forward, resting her hand on your thigh and squeezing it teasingly. Her breath fans over your face and you can smell the vodka and her cherry lipstick. You lean forward to meet her, moving like you’re in a dream, fireworks sparking in the back of your head the moment your lips touch. 
Suddenly, you’re overcome with the carnal desire to drag this woman up to your penthouse and have her squirming underneath you, crying out your name as she comes undone.
“Um, would you like to…” You can hardly think straight. “My room…apartment…is upstairs…if you want to…”
“Show me the way,” Natasha says, standing up and offering you her hand.
***********************************************************************
Your brain is swirling in a fog as you follow Natasha to the elevator. You don’t even register any of the people you pass, fully aware of the fact that someone will report this headline to the National Enquirer, at the very least. But all the worries of the future disappear the moment the elevator doors close and Natasha throws herself at you, her legs hooking around your narrow waist and her heels digging into the small of your back. Your hands support her supple bottom, squeezing in appreciation as her lips crash against yours in a desperate frenzy. 
You stumble into the wall, smashing your hand onto the top floor button and feeling the elevator start to rise, but not fast enough. 
“Lucky me,” Natasha pants between kisses. “Getting to go home with the newly-christened CEO of Envy Industries.”
“You’re the most beautiful woman here tonight,” you respond, heat rising between your legs. “Of course you were coming home with me.”
Natasha glows with the praise and pulls your head into her chest, where you instinctively lick and nip at the flesh of her exposed breasts and she keens at the attention. When the elevator doors open again, you stumble out with her still in your arms, your feet automatically taking you down the path to your apartment. Thankfully, your apartment door opens automatically when your key card is in range, so you’re able to kick it open with your foot, without having to put her down.   
You carry her straight to the bedroom, dropping her on the freshly-changed sheets you had housekeeping put on after you were done with the two models from earlier. You can hardly remember your time with them and your body is practically vibrating in anticipation like you haven’t had sex in years. You crawl on top of Natasha, lowering yourself to kiss her again, this time with more passion and her arms snake over your broad back, pressing your body against hers.  
“I need to get you out of this dress,” you pant, desperate for skin-to-skin contact with her. 
“You first,” she says, releasing you as you sit up, yanking off your jacket and throwing it to the floor. You’re annoyed at your choice of shirt, a white button-up that has way too many buttons, as you impatiently pop them off one at a time and remove your bra. Natasha watches you with hunger in her eyes and you’ve never felt more proud to reveal yourself to another partner. The daily, painful 2-hour visits to the gym and strict adherence to a customized diet showed in your chiseled physique, your biceps bulging like you had baseballs under your skin, your perfect washboard abs, and your thighs were sturdier than tree trunks. 
“Fuck,” she mutters, reaching up to run her hand across your abs like she can’t believe you’re really in front of her. “I could look at you all day.”
It’s a common reaction most people have, but it definitely heats you up more when it comes from Natasha. “Your turn, gorgeous.” 
She sits up and turns around so you can access the zipper of her dress. You sweep her hair to the side, stealing a kiss to her neck because you really can’t help yourself. Natasha hums in appreciation and you lower her zipper slowly. Her dress pools at her waist like a glimmering green puddle. She isn’t wearing a bra so your hands immediately gravitate to cup her breasts, and she arches her back against your bare chest. 
“Are you gonna fuck me the same way you do to every girl you have in here?” she asks, placing one of her hands over yours and guiding it down her stomach, where your fingers part through her soaking folds. 
“If you want me to,” you say, pressing deeper into her and she whines at your touch. “But I’ll give you whatever you want.” Normally, you enjoy being in full control in the bedroom, but you are absolutely willing to give that up if it pleases Natasha. 
She suddenly pushes your hand away from her center; you can still feel traces of her stickiness on your fingers. “Do you have a strap? I want to ride you.”
Your stomach flips at the thought of her on top of you, grinding down on you until she finishes. Her heaving bosom in your face for you to suck and kiss while she enjoys the orgasm you gave her. 
“Yeah, let me grab it.” While you launch yourself off the bed to go fishing around your nightstand drawer, Natasha nudges her dress to the floor and delicately removes her long necklace, settling back comfortably on your king-sized bed while she waits for you. You take off your pants and pull the harness over your waist, turning back to the mouth-watering sight of her naked and ready for your taking. Her body is toned and curved in all the right places: clearly, she respected her body as much as you did to yours. There are few things you love more than a woman who takes care of herself.
You climb back onto the bed and Natasha pounces on you while you’re still getting into position, holding onto your biceps to pin you down. You catch sight of her glimmering wetness as she drags herself along your abs, pressing back against your cock until it rubs against her butt. You reach over to grab the bottle of lube always present on your nightstand and squirt a generous glob onto your strap, not that it looks like Natasha will need it. 
“Look how wet you are. You’ve been waiting for this all night, sweetheart?” you tease, your hands running up and down her sides. Natasha takes you by surprise when she shoves you back against the headboard.  
“Shut up and let me fuck you,” she growls, her voice dangerously dropping an octave. Natasha lifts herself up to line herself with the head of your cock and slides down in one move. The slick noise as it fills her is downright sinful. Your big hands wrap around her tiny waist, guiding her to bounce in an aggressive rhythm as the two of you watch your cock disappear inside of her. 
“Fuck, Y/N,” she moans, throwing her head back, red hair spilling over her shoulders. “That feels so good.”
“Look how well you’re taking me,” you praise, your hips jerking up to match her rhythm. Even though you can’t necessarily feel it, you swear her pussy is clenching around the toy, greedily sucking you in and requiring physical effort to pull out. Your own clit is throbbing as the toy bumps it every time Natasha slams down on your thighs. 
“Deeper, babe. Go deeper,” Natasha begs, moving her hands from your shoulders to the headboard, grabbing it so firmly you hear the wood crack. You change the angle of your hips, punching them up to satisfy her command. The bed frame creaks and shakes; you know your father would be unhappy to hear he has to order you a new one so soon, but you can’t be bothered to care right now.
“Fuck, right there. That’s it,” Natasha moans, rolling her hips with such fluidity it makes your stomach clench. She looks down at you, admiring the flex of your muscles as you do your best to please her, a singular bead of sweat running over your collarbone and sliding down between your breasts. 
“I’m close. I’m almost fucking there,” she warns, her hips beginning to lose their rhythm. But you keep your intense pace, until your abs are cramping and you’re certain there are bruises on your thighs. Your own arousal burns like a ball of white-hot fire and you so desperately want to make this woman cum you will gladly ignore the ache of your own orgasm for hers. 
“You’re fucking me too well, baby. I’m gonna lose it,” Natasha pants and the praise almost breaks your control. She throws her head back as she finishes and you bury your face in her heaving chest, tasting the sweat on her skin and sucking one of her nipples into your mouth. Her hand abandons the headboard to tangle in your hair, yanking almost painfully at your roots while you feel her cum spill onto your lap. She pushes your head away once she’s done, your lips parting from her nipple with a string of saliva, and lifts herself off your cock. The two of you are panting in unison, while you’re still fighting the simmer of arousal in your gut.
“Hmm, that was nice. Do you normally let your partner finish first?” she asks, resting her hands on your chest again. “I didn’t think you were the type.”
Your face burns in embarrassment because she’s not wrong. “Um…no,” you admit, knowing full well you could lie, but you feel like she’ll be able to see through it.
Natasha smirks. “Such a gentlewoman with me,” she says, bending over to kiss you, this time much more softly than before. 
“Only for you,” you murmur back, shocked at how whipped you already are for her. 
“You want me to help you finish?” Natasha asks, pushing the strap aside to brush her fingers across your hot center. Your hips jerk off the bed, almost launching Natasha into the air. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she giggles, climbing off your lap and helping you pull the strap off your waist. You’re practically frozen in anticipation, watching with bated breath as Natasha scoots herself down the bed and lowers her head between your legs.
You melt at the feeling of her mouth against your center, perfectly hot and wet. Your back arches off the bed when her tongue glides through your folds, lapping up the mixture of body fluids like it’s some kind life-saving elixir. 
“Shit, baby, that feels amazing,” you moan, burying one of your hands in her red tresses, motioning with your hips that you want her deeper. She obliges by wrapping her lips around your clit and giving it a few hard sucks that have you seeing white stars behind your eyelids. You let go of her hair, afraid you’ll tear it out and grab onto the Egyptian cotton sheets tightly. Her tongue pushes into you and you swear you convulse around it, already leaking into her mouth when she’s only just started to go down on you.
Natasha’s arms wrap around your powerful thighs, trying to force them apart as you close them around her head. You don’t mean to put her in awkward, even dangerous position, but you can’t think about anything other than the pulsing in your center, soothed and encouraged by the heat of Natasha’s mouth. You dig your heels into the mattress to prevent yourself from bouncing across the bed at the rocking motion your body had adopted to maximize your pleasure. Every time her tongue slips into you, the muscles in your stomach contract so sharply it almost hurts, and when she laps at your clit, the stimulation is so great you feel immediately dizzy.
“Natasha,” you pant, unable to hold out any longer. “I’m gonna…Please let me…” 
She presses into you with even more enthusiasm than before and your body seizes as you release yourself into her mouth. Natasha eagerly collects all your slick, her red lipstick smeared on the insides of your thighs.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moan, feeling your high is going to last forever. But just the sensations start to fizz, you realize Natasha still has her iron grip on your legs, keeping them spread apart.
“I want another,” she demands, in a sultry tone that almost pulls the second orgasm from you right there.
“Natasha,” you whine, fearing you are too sensitive to deliver her wishes. You twist your body back and forth, half-heartedly trying to free yourself. But Natasha won’t let you, lowering her head to your heat and taking what she wants. Overly stimulated, every muscle in your body goes rigid as fireworks of pleasure, bordering the line of painful, explode inside of you. Natasha’s tongue somehow reaches even deeper than she had the first time, the tip pressing against your front ridged wall and you lose it for the second time in minutes.
“Oh, fuck!” you cry, your back arching off the bed but Natasha holds your waist down, determined to not let a drop of your essence go to waste. Your head is spinning and your body is like a live wire of excitement, twitching and trembling until you have no more energy left and and you melt into a limp mess.
Natasha kisses up your abs, between your breasts and licks at the column of your sweaty throat. Her lips finally connect with yours and you can taste a hint of yourself mixed with hers. You can’t wait to taste her straight from the source, but it’s going to take a bit of time to find the strength to move after two back-to-back orgasms. She wraps her arms around your torso, nuzzling into the side of your chest and inhaling deeply.
There is a long, but not uncomfortable silence as you two of you find your breath.
“I’m not letting you leave until you sit on my face,” you finally say. Natasha looks up at you with a satisfied grin.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” she says, crawling up so she can do just that.
***********************************************************************
The moment Natasha made eye contact with you, she knew you were done for. You were far too predictable. She knew exactly the kind of woman you chased after. She knew what she needed to say to catch your attention, to convince you that she deserved a private moment with you.
You were too easy.
When you were so busy looking at her lips, trying to figure out when the right moment to kiss her was, you didn’t notice her take your phone out of your pocket, plug a flash drive into the charging slot, and return it back to your pocket in record time.
As you carry her in the elevator, your face buried in her breasts while she slips a tiny audio recorder into the pocket of your blazer. Through the fog of pure lust for you, Natasha struggles to but succeeds in making a mental map of your apartment. Where your office is, how many computers you have.
After numerous orgasms, she’s sufficiently fucked your brains out and cuddled with you long enough for you to pass out into an impossibly deep slumber, she gets up and heads into your office. She doesn’t need more than five minutes to hack into your devices and steal all the data saved on them. She chuckles to herself at how easy the task is; if she had known it would’ve been this simple and enjoyable, she would’ve come after you a long time ago.
Natasha gathers all her things and excuses herself from your apartment without a good-bye.
***********************************************************************
DAY 2
When you wake up the next morning, your mind a haze from the absolute debauchery that occurred the previous night. You rub your eyes and roll over, finding yourself naked and alone in bed. There is a deep soreness in your body, in almost every muscle, and some you haven’t felt for a long time. Natasha’s scent of vanilla and cherry lingers, but she’s nowhere to be found.
“Fuck,” you grumble, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. It’s been blowing up with notifications, which is a little unusual, but you assume it’s mostly from friends still congratulating you on your promotion. You open a text from your best friend and work partner, Tony.
From Tony: You fucked up, dude.
He included a link to a TMZ article. You click on it, half-wondering if it’ll send you to some troll site. The headline reads:
New CEO of Envy Industries Y/N spotted getting cozy with Black Widow Corp. heiress Natasha Romanoff 
Everything clicks to you now.
“Oh, fuck.”
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AN: To be continued? 👀
Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰
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dirtyvulture · 4 days
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I don't know if you're comfortable with nsfw links, but this reminds me of beefy sergeant reader and Nat🥹
https://x.com/softintimacy/status/1718520826494853438
Please disregard if you're uncomfortable. I just wanted to share
Anon I--
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dirtyvulture · 4 days
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😎 My nephew was born at 2:02 AM on April 12 ( so he is two days old) at 8 pounds, 2 ounces and 20. 5 inches. Both my sister and baby are doing great and are perfectly healthy!!!!!! It is important to state that my sister and her family live in a place that is 2 hours behind us so I woke up at 4 in the morning ish with the news that my Nephew was born ….. if I HAD to be woken up at 4 in the morning THAT is the reason I WANT to be woken up for . He has been brought home and their dogs have just FALLEN IN LOVE with him ( they have two dogs and a cat) .
Auto correct continues to be the BANE of my existence and continues to target ME SPECIFICALLY ( I KNOW my ass can’t spell but you don’t have to come at me ALL THE TIME😭) and makes dumb little mistakes in the posts . I know everyone knows what I mean but it still BOTHERS me ok !!!! Some thoughts turned into Soo thoughts. MCU was changed to MUC .
Of course I am giving you love for your fic , you deserve it and I am super excited for part two :)
It’s …… funny how this woman is doing and taking part of behaviors that do and act the EXACT same way as man ( being kinda of a jerk or kinda a asshole , for example CEO R! is doing things - sleeping with whatever moves and being that asshole or jerk - and acting EXACTLY LIKE Tony Stark ) but NO ONE bats an eye when a man does it. And R is CLEARLY an intellectual and talented woman but because she is a woman people can’t see her talent and strengths ….. they only see her flaws. I was talking with my friend and we were like ….. Yelena 100 percent helped Nat with her getup and makeup ( Yelena is a fashion icon after all ) . We also decided that Yelena wasn’t at the event, she was at home chilling in her pjs with Kate watching movies and binge watching tv. Nat planned and did everything out on her own and didn’t tell ANYONE ( ESPECIALLY her parents or little sister) about what she did that night.
SB 100 percent carried Nat( while she was still sleeping and they were able to keep her from waking up ) out of the chair with their in law following SB out of the hospital to let Sarah rest and sleep. Nat woke up in the car so the group of three just went out to breakfast for food and coffee. Yes Sergeant Romanoff was very impressed and feral for SB the whole time ….. poor golden retriever never saw it coming ( they were sleeping for a LONG TIME afterwards and Nat hooked them up with liquid IV ) . That brings me to my next point , I had a discussion with my friend and we were talking about . What if Nat can’t get pregnant ? What if she had an injury while she was on duty/ deployment ( that injury / the mission she was on was what got her the promotion and the rank she has now ) . She didn’t need to know nor cared about if she could kids then , but with SB ……
R has a lot of dexterity in her hands ( in more ways than one , one of which Nat is VERY HAPPY WITH 😏😏😏) and I did a quick history google search and found out ( from wiki so take this with a grain of salt) that nail ciphers were invented in 1881 . So she probably used a pocket knife ( think young victor in the Wolverine Origins opening except R isn’t making her nails into claws, she is just cutting them) for a really long period of time and if she didn’t have a pocket knife then she would use her claws. But yeah if Nat panic and stop R from cutting her nails with her claws , R just looks at her saying “ what ? I lost my clippers and don’t have my pocket knife…… I am not making my nails into claws . I am NOT a psychopath.”
Ps I hope I can see my nephew in the earliest time too . Whenever I talk about him for future reference , I will just be calling him “ Buddy” . Obviously not his real name but the name I will call him here . 
(I have to apologize for responding to your most recent message first when you sent this one before, my drafts are a mess lol)
Very excited and happy for you and your family, friend! 🥰🥰
Autocorrect has never been your friend here to be honest 😂
Thank you for the love, I am really excited to write a Part 2 for you all (didn't think I would, but I can't deny you all after that warm reception).
Yep! I honestly didn't even make that connection, I kind of just wanted to write R as a dirtbag lol instead of the typical dumb golden retriever himbo. And as I work on part too, we will definitely get to see a little bit of Yelena. :) Although yeah, she probably had no idea what kind of sins her sister was getting into that night.
SB loves to take care of Nat :) And they always have to take advantage of doing it when she's asleep or something because she won't stand for it if she's awake.
Honestly, that's a really interesting theory. I was actually thinking the same thing (since a lot of readers ask how come Nat hasn't gotten pregnant by now...what if she actually can't because of a previous injury or medical condition?). And you're right, Nat probably didn't care about having kids at all, but then she met SB and now she might have changed her mind...
Heehee. 😂 R has very sharp actual claws already, no need to shape her nails into them too.
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dirtyvulture · 5 days
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Everything u write is just fantastic truly. Recently binged ur Peeping Kate series uhhh its so good literally amazing. I have to contain myself sometimes bc unhinged possessive Nat is so hot. Also patiently waiting to see what u have in store for Darkest Knight. Wow is it possible u just don’t miss with ur writing simply wonderful.
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Anon, you are just the sweetest for sending this. 🥺♥
I might have to go back and read the Peeping Kate series myself, so many great moments in that series. :) And all I can say is expect a lot of angst in the Darkest Knight sequel. 😁
But thank you so much for the kind words, I was having a rough night but this has cheered me up so much. 🥰
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dirtyvulture · 5 days
Text
Oh Nat's eating good tonight 👀
Night Drive (18+)
Summary: You get a new car
AN: 18+ only y'all--we're gonna pretend that there are plenty of other self-driving cars that aren't t*sla...I hope this makes up for me not putting out another part of AYTO yet! All mistakes are mine.
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Warnings: cursing; reader has a dick; dom//powerbottom!Natasha; sub//top!reader
----------------
You sink lower into your seat as you rev the engine of your new car with the widest grin Natasha can't see. Natasha looks hardly impressed from your view beyond the barely-legal tint of the windows.
You decide to roll down your window and plead your case.
"Hey baby."
Natasha rolls her eyes. You already screw yourself coming right out the gate with pleasantries, Natasha knows you're desperate to get on her good side when you do that.
"So...what do you think?" You vaguely gesture to the rest of the car and Natasha scoffs.
"I think you were a finance bro in your past life," she crosses her arms, and you relent, "probably," you sing as you round the car to lean against the hood. The gun metal gray still holds a shine in the moonlight. This wasn't an impulse purchase, you had been talking about buying a new car for a while now. You would go on little rants about the specs of certain cars whenever you saw them on the road or on TV. It's not like you were waiting when you had the money, being an avenger was a pretty-paying gig. You were just waiting for the right one, at the right time--a method you mastered by the time Natasha came around.
"Wanna go for a joyride?" You offer, already leaning off the hood and spinning the key in your hand.
Natasha wants to keep giving you a hard time, but you look so damn good in front of your sleek, expensive, new backdrop. Your muscles bulge under your fitted black shirt, and you have the cockiest smile on your face, like you knew you were winning this race.
"And if we get pulled over?"
"With SHIELD plates? I'm not worried about it," it almost comes out like it's scripted. You're not above rehearsing a speech for Natasha if it means getting your way. You're pulling out all the stops, but Natasha wants to remind you who's really behind the wheel. Her eyes rake over you slowly, intensely--the same way fresh lava travels over earth. You're standing at attention and you don't even know it.
"You gonna open the door for me or just stand there like you forgot your manners?" Natasha watches in amusement as you fumble for the door handle. She slides onto the cool leather while you make your way into the driver's seat yet again. You wait patiently for her to get comfortable and buckle in.
It's only when you rev the engine with a wink that Natasha muses this might have been a bad idea on her part. You punch the gas pedal and she's quickly acquainted with the back of the cherry red bucket seat.
----------------
Natasha decides that she doesn't like going fast unless the fate of the world depends on it. She also decides this is the one exception when she sees the freeway system of veins in your forearms as you grip the steering wheel. Natasha feels like she's flying when she watches your triceps flex while you turn the wheel or do something as mundane as turning on her seat heater.
Natasha slides her seatbelt off in a way that doesn't set off the sensor--she didn't want this moment to be ruined by a lecture on why it's important to buckle-up. You're too distracted by the beat of your night drive playlist to notice her crawling closer to you.
You feel her lips on the shell of your ear, "eyes on the road, got it?"
"Yes ma'am," you try to say cooly, you don't dare chance a look over at her. She hums with satisfaction and rewards you with a kiss on the skin behind your ear and a nibble on your lobe that tightens the coil in your belly.
Natasha sucks and licks at your neck while her deft fingers work to undo your belt and zipper. Her hand explores the border of your waistband before dipping under and finding what it was looking for. You let out a whisper of a gasp when Natasha admires your full length and girth. Your grip on the wheel tightens, Natasha chuckles when she hears the leather under your fingers groan.
Natasha begins to stroke you slowly, agonizingly so, but that doesn't keep your hips from bucking up into her hand.
"Tash," that only elicits a rumble against your neck. Natasha's other hand curls around your neck and gives a light squeeze that makes your vision blur for a second. Her stroking picks up speed, you have to work impossibly hard to keep your foot off the brakes.
"Natasha, please."
"I like the way you say please, baby," she mumbles with your skin between her teeth.
"What did I tell you?"
"Eyes on the road, ma'am," you say with a quickness that makes the corner of her lips curl up in satisfaction.
"So smart," she praises before you helplessly watch her head lower until you feel her lips greet your cock with a sloppy kiss. You throw your head back against your seat with a pathetic moan.
"So desperate," Natasha teases, and your mind feels like it's going a million miles an hour--multitasking is usually your strong suit, but it seems damn near impossible now.
Natasha's tongue travels the length of you, your hips feebly buck into her mouth when she finally grants you entrance. You slow your speed to safely take a hand off the wheel and hold her hair back. She thanks you with a gentle squeeze on your thigh and the prettiest sounds you could have only ever imagined.
Your playlist is already repeating itself by the time Natasha comes up for air. She can barely hear it over your panting anyway. You're rock hard and right where she wants you.
"The car can drive itself, you know," you breathe out. Natasha's brow quirks with curiosity.
"Show me," it's a gentle command, but your fingers rush to press the right sequence of buttons. You ease the seat back with haste, and Natasha just lets you sit there for a few beats to take you in and also leave you in suspense.
Your fingers dumbly flex against your legs while you wait for further instruction from Natasha. She doesn't even try to hide her smirk when your eyes begin to dart between the road and her.
"You're not gonna let us crash right, dove?" Natasha's finger traces a feather-light trail down your arm. It's a genuine question, even though she knows you probably did some sizable research on the safety features of the car before you even entertained buying it.
"No ma'am, you're precious cargo," you give an easy smile and that's Natasha's cue to move and straddle your lap. You help her with your hands on her hips, your hands quickly retreating to your sides when she's situated over you.
Natasha swears your eyes are sparkling as you watch her slide her panties to the side with one hand and take your length in the other.
"Eyes on me, baby, just for a second," she coos and you obey. Natasha can't help but admire the striations of your muscles working overtime to restrain yourself. You've always been intoxicatingly obedient, even when it's downright painful. Your eyes are locked on Natasha's, you have to bite your lip to stifle a moan when she finally eases down onto your cock. She's already working her hips in a way that has your entire body buzzing. You can count on one hand how many cars have passed you by this whole time, just like you expected.
Your fingers dig into the leather of your seat, your eyes periodically glancing at the road to make sure it hasn't veered off course for whatever reason. Natasha steals a few sloppy kisses when she leans into you to get a better angle and bounce on your cock at a speed that should be illegal.
"Tash, I'm gonna-," you choke out between labored breaths.
"What was that baby?" she leans back and oh god, you wish you had the kind of self-control your car has right now. You feel like you're going to pass out watching Natasha ride your cock, you're too blissed out to realize that she's spelling out 'm-i-n-e-' with her hips.
"I'm gonna come so fast."
"I know baby."
That seals your fate. Your arm reaches back to brace yourself against the seat. With a long and drawn-out "fuck," Natasha feels you push deeper into her, filling her up with every last drop of you. You both fall into a sweaty, moaning heap against the seat. Your body trembling with aftershocks as Natasha scratches at the skin on the back of your neck. You only get to drink this feeling in for a few seconds until you see red and blue flashing lights in your rearview mirror.
"Shit," you sit up and Natasha freezes when she sees what you see. You feverishly check your speedometer, you're not speeding. You start rifling through your brain to see if you forgot to do something, insurance? Plates? Registration?
Your questions are answered when you watch the cop car speed off into the night. Natasha lets out a heavy sigh of relief that makes your dick twitch, reminding you both that you're still inside of her.
"Told you," you try not to sound so exasperated. Natasha just rolls her eyes before kissing your temple. Night drives might just become a regular thing now.
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dirtyvulture · 5 days
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😎 Something sooooo “ fun” happened. I was driving around with my dad, long story short there was bits of metal that somehow gotten into some sort of platting in the car ( I know NOTHING about cars, also this WASNT my fault ….. I didn’t hit nor ran ANYTHING over ) . Now I haven’t been able to go to work ( there is a payment, a pay check just sitting next to the printer with my literal name on it that I haven’t been able to get )and I can’t even make it to my shift today . Luckily I am covered and not in trouble and my grandma is coming tomorrow to give me a ride tomorrow.
I don’t think I have any thoughts or anything else to say …. I just wanted to complain a bit here. I am frankly a bit pissed off . I promise I will be in a happier mood and have a better post the next time , complete with some thoughts or ideas about any of the lovely stories Vulture has written.
However I will leave you with a lighter and happier note . My little nephew is a week old and according to my sister ( my dad was on the phone with her last night) my nephew chirps ( like a little bird) in his sleep.
Oh no, that's so frustrating to hear :( I hope whatever happened to your car is fixable/not too expensive
And that is adorable of your nephew :)
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dirtyvulture · 7 days
Text
Who wants to see a Part 2? 👀👀👀
Envy and Venom
Heiress!Natasha Romanoff x CEO!Beefy!Fem!Reader
18+ only, read at your own risk
Summary: You are the notorious playboy who just inherited one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Your first move? Sleeping with the heiress of your rival company.
Word count: 4190
AN: Randomly came up with this idea, it's a little different than my other stuff, but give it a read. :)
DAY 1
“You couldn’t have picked a better person for the job,” you tease, gripping tightly onto your father’s hand as the sea of flashing lights fifteen feet away practically blinds you. The reporters call out for your attention but you ignore them, pausing in the awkward, hand-holding pose with your father so the photo can be plastered across the front page of news outlets around the world. 
“I trust you. Don’t ruin what I’ve started,” your father says, grabbing onto your shoulder and pulling you into a tight embrace. “And please try to keep your…escapades…a little more under wraps, okay?” he whispers into your ear. 
“I’ll try, Dad,” you say, but it isn’t really your fault that the public was so interested in what goes on in your bedroom. Then again, you hadn’t exactly been trying to be subtle when you were fucking your secretary against the penthouse window of your apartment, but people should try to mind their own business more. 
Your father pushes you back and the two of you turn in unison to wave at the crowd once more. 
“Congratulations!” you hear them echoing. “To Envy Industries’ new CEO, Y/N!”
***********************************************************************
Naturally, to celebrate your latest achievement, you host the party of the century, inviting other world-renowned millionaires, fellow tech company gurus, actors, singers, celebrities, and pretty much anyone else who fit society’s thinly-veiled description of “famous.” You initially show up with two models you had already spent the afternoon with, but you weren’t interested in stringing them along and were excited to find some new target to chase after. 
The first hour alone is spent wading through faces you recognize from online but have no personal connection with, and you have to pretend that you’re grateful when they take enough interest and ask about the future of your company. 
“We’ll probably stick to the production of GPUs for a while,” you say, yelling to be heard over the music and rumble of people. “We just signed a huge contract with Tesla, so we’ll be supplying all the hardware they need for their next products. They have a big need for AI software, and we’re one of the few companies that can build exactly what they need.”
“Wow, that’s very impressive.” The short-haired blonde woman suddenly throws herself at you, her nails digging into your bicep so hard you can feel the prick through your burgundy silk jacket.
“Thank you.” You’re not sure you’ve ever seen this woman before in your life and you wonder if she even understood half of what you were saying or she was just trying to get into your pants.
“I’m Carol, by the way. Do you want to get a drink?”
“I would never say no to a drink.” You let Carol lead you to the bar (that you are footing the bill for) and she orders for you, picking an old-fashioned cocktail for you. A decent choice, but if she had read your interview in The Chief Executive Magazine, she would have known that your favorite drink was actually a vodka martini. You join her at an empty table.
“So, what do you do for a living?” you ask out of politeness, taking a sip and letting the whiskey burn your throat.  
“I’m an influencer,” Carol says. “I have one-point-seven million followers on Tik Tok right now. I mostly post fitness routines or travel vlogs. And I also stream video games on Twitch.”
“Ah.” Now it’s your turn to act like you’re impressed when you have no idea what she’s talking about. 
Carol drones on about her next project, which involves a collaboration with another influencer you’ve never heard of. Your eyes scan the people walking by, looking for a new object of infatuation. It doesn’t take long until you make eye contact with a beautiful, redheaded woman, her voluptuous body hugged by an emerald green dress. Immediately, your heart rate spikes as you scan her up and down, not predatorily, but admiringly. The neckline of her dress plunges down to her belly button, a tasteful hint of her cleavage showing through, highlighted by a long  silver necklace with a thin gold bar tassel. 
You perk up, smoothing your hair back and puffing out your chest like a proud pigeon when she starts walking over.
“Congratulations,” the redhead says. “Your family must be very proud of you.”
“My dad didn’t want to give it to me,” you admit, completely oblivious to Carol’s pout as you instantly give your attention to this new woman. “But I convinced him the company would be in good hands.”
“I bet.”
“Can I get you a drink?” you ask, desperate to keep around for the conversation (and perhaps more).
“I should be the one treating you,” the redhead says. She takes the cocktail out of your hands and brings it to her lips. “Hmm. I didn’t think this was your taste,” she notes. “How does a vodka martini sound?”
You know instantly this is the woman you’re taking home with you tonight. “That sounds delightful.”
***********************************************************************
You ditch Carol without a second thought and follow the redhead back to the bar, where she picks up two vodka martinis. She brings you to a private booth, sitting so close to you that your knees are touching hers. You can almost feel her body heat through the fabric of your clothes. 
“To Envy Industries’ long and prosperous future,” she says, raising her drink in a toast.
“Cheers.” You clink your glass to hers and drink half of it in one long sip, smiling in satisfaction. “I didn’t catch your name,” you say.
“Natasha.” It sparks a familiar memory, a name you’ve heard before. But she’s so intoxicating that you give it no second thought. Natasha is one of the most gorgeous women you’ve ever seen in your life and you can’t believe she’s sitting here talking to you and you alone.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” you say, formally offering her your hand. She shakes it, and you gently bring her hand up to your lips to kiss her knuckles.
“Likewise,” she says, crossing one perfectly toned leg over the other, her foot nudging the back of your calf. “Not to eavesdrop, but I overheard you mention a contract with Tesla. Say what you want about that company, but you can’t deny the evidence that they’re one of the highest valued companies in the world. I wouldn’t be surprised if Envy Industries is soon up there with them.”
“Exactly.” Your interest in this woman skyrockets, because you know she isn’t bullshitting you. She isn’t like Carol. She knows what she’s talking about. 
“We’ve been trying to strike deals with the automotive industry for years,” Natasha goes on, “But you’ve beat us to it. And now that you’ve partnered up with Tesla, you’re basically unstoppable.”
“Not quite,” you correct, now unable to stop yourself from unraveling the schemes of your company’s next five years. “Our research on artificial intelligence is just getting started. We just applied for ten new patents within computing technologies and we’re on track to absolutely dominate the market for discrete graphics processing units by the end of the year.” 
Natasha grins at your enthusiasm and you feel yourself blush in embarrassment. You know the media often labeled you as stupid, reckless, irresponsible, unfit to lead, and constantly bashed your sexual appetite, but you were all those things and a technology genius. Your father had built this company from the ground up, but you had been there alongside him the past six years. While everyone classified your promotion to CEO as nepotism, you felt you had rightfully earned it. 
“I don’t know how you do it,” she comments.
“Well, it definitely wouldn’t be wise for the new CEO to be giving away all the secrets, now would it?” you chuckle, even though you’ve definitely already said more than you should’ve. 
“Your success is no trade secret.” Natasha turns her whole body to face you. The attention she’s giving you is almost more than you can bear. Your heart pounds against your chest. No woman has ever made you this excited before. “But if you want, maybe we can go somewhere a little more private, where you can share whatever else you’d like.”
“Hmm.” It was rare for another woman to be so bold with you. But you’ve never lusted after another woman like Natasha before. Arousal heats up in your stomach as Natasha leans forward, resting her hand on your thigh and squeezing it teasingly. Her breath fans over your face and you can smell the vodka and her cherry lipstick. You lean forward to meet her, moving like you’re in a dream, fireworks sparking in the back of your head the moment your lips touch. 
Suddenly, you’re overcome with the carnal desire to drag this woman up to your penthouse and have her squirming underneath you, crying out your name as she comes undone.
“Um, would you like to…” You can hardly think straight. “My room…apartment…is upstairs…if you want to…”
“Show me the way,” Natasha says, standing up and offering you her hand.
***********************************************************************
Your brain is swirling in a fog as you follow Natasha to the elevator. You don’t even register any of the people you pass, fully aware of the fact that someone will report this headline to the National Enquirer, at the very least. But all the worries of the future disappear the moment the elevator doors close and Natasha throws herself at you, her legs hooking around your narrow waist and her heels digging into the small of your back. Your hands support her supple bottom, squeezing in appreciation as her lips crash against yours in a desperate frenzy. 
You stumble into the wall, smashing your hand onto the top floor button and feeling the elevator start to rise, but not fast enough. 
“Lucky me,” Natasha pants between kisses. “Getting to go home with the newly-christened CEO of Envy Industries.”
“You’re the most beautiful woman here tonight,” you respond, heat rising between your legs. “Of course you were coming home with me.”
Natasha glows with the praise and pulls your head into her chest, where you instinctively lick and nip at the flesh of her exposed breasts and she keens at the attention. When the elevator doors open again, you stumble out with her still in your arms, your feet automatically taking you down the path to your apartment. Thankfully, your apartment door opens automatically when your key card is in range, so you’re able to kick it open with your foot, without having to put her down.   
You carry her straight to the bedroom, dropping her on the freshly-changed sheets you had housekeeping put on after you were done with the two models from earlier. You can hardly remember your time with them and your body is practically vibrating in anticipation like you haven’t had sex in years. You crawl on top of Natasha, lowering yourself to kiss her again, this time with more passion and her arms snake over your broad back, pressing your body against hers.  
“I need to get you out of this dress,” you pant, desperate for skin-to-skin contact with her. 
“You first,” she says, releasing you as you sit up, yanking off your jacket and throwing it to the floor. You’re annoyed at your choice of shirt, a white button-up that has way too many buttons, as you impatiently pop them off one at a time and remove your bra. Natasha watches you with hunger in her eyes and you’ve never felt more proud to reveal yourself to another partner. The daily, painful 2-hour visits to the gym and strict adherence to a customized diet showed in your chiseled physique, your biceps bulging like you had baseballs under your skin, your perfect washboard abs, and your thighs were sturdier than tree trunks. 
“Fuck,” she mutters, reaching up to run her hand across your abs like she can’t believe you’re really in front of her. “I could look at you all day.”
It’s a common reaction most people have, but it definitely heats you up more when it comes from Natasha. “Your turn, gorgeous.” 
She sits up and turns around so you can access the zipper of her dress. You sweep her hair to the side, stealing a kiss to her neck because you really can’t help yourself. Natasha hums in appreciation and you lower her zipper slowly. Her dress pools at her waist like a glimmering green puddle. She isn’t wearing a bra so your hands immediately gravitate to cup her breasts, and she arches her back against your bare chest. 
“Are you gonna fuck me the same way you do to every girl you have in here?” she asks, placing one of her hands over yours and guiding it down her stomach, where your fingers part through her soaking folds. 
“If you want me to,” you say, pressing deeper into her and she whines at your touch. “But I’ll give you whatever you want.” Normally, you enjoy being in full control in the bedroom, but you are absolutely willing to give that up if it pleases Natasha. 
She suddenly pushes your hand away from her center; you can still feel traces of her stickiness on your fingers. “Do you have a strap? I want to ride you.”
Your stomach flips at the thought of her on top of you, grinding down on you until she finishes. Her heaving bosom in your face for you to suck and kiss while she enjoys the orgasm you gave her. 
“Yeah, let me grab it.” While you launch yourself off the bed to go fishing around your nightstand drawer, Natasha nudges her dress to the floor and delicately removes her long necklace, settling back comfortably on your king-sized bed while she waits for you. You take off your pants and pull the harness over your waist, turning back to the mouth-watering sight of her naked and ready for your taking. Her body is toned and curved in all the right places: clearly, she respected her body as much as you did to yours. There are few things you love more than a woman who takes care of herself.
You climb back onto the bed and Natasha pounces on you while you’re still getting into position, holding onto your biceps to pin you down. You catch sight of her glimmering wetness as she drags herself along your abs, pressing back against your cock until it rubs against her butt. You reach over to grab the bottle of lube always present on your nightstand and squirt a generous glob onto your strap, not that it looks like Natasha will need it. 
“Look how wet you are. You’ve been waiting for this all night, sweetheart?” you tease, your hands running up and down her sides. Natasha takes you by surprise when she shoves you back against the headboard.  
“Shut up and let me fuck you,” she growls, her voice dangerously dropping an octave. Natasha lifts herself up to line herself with the head of your cock and slides down in one move. The slick noise as it fills her is downright sinful. Your big hands wrap around her tiny waist, guiding her to bounce in an aggressive rhythm as the two of you watch your cock disappear inside of her. 
“Fuck, Y/N,” she moans, throwing her head back, red hair spilling over her shoulders. “That feels so good.”
“Look how well you’re taking me,” you praise, your hips jerking up to match her rhythm. Even though you can’t necessarily feel it, you swear her pussy is clenching around the toy, greedily sucking you in and requiring physical effort to pull out. Your own clit is throbbing as the toy bumps it every time Natasha slams down on your thighs. 
“Deeper, babe. Go deeper,” Natasha begs, moving her hands from your shoulders to the headboard, grabbing it so firmly you hear the wood crack. You change the angle of your hips, punching them up to satisfy her command. The bed frame creaks and shakes; you know your father would be unhappy to hear he has to order you a new one so soon, but you can’t be bothered to care right now.
“Fuck, right there. That’s it,” Natasha moans, rolling her hips with such fluidity it makes your stomach clench. She looks down at you, admiring the flex of your muscles as you do your best to please her, a singular bead of sweat running over your collarbone and sliding down between your breasts. 
“I’m close. I’m almost fucking there,” she warns, her hips beginning to lose their rhythm. But you keep your intense pace, until your abs are cramping and you’re certain there are bruises on your thighs. Your own arousal burns like a ball of white-hot fire and you so desperately want to make this woman cum you will gladly ignore the ache of your own orgasm for hers. 
“You’re fucking me too well, baby. I’m gonna lose it,” Natasha pants and the praise almost breaks your control. She throws her head back as she finishes and you bury your face in her heaving chest, tasting the sweat on her skin and sucking one of her nipples into your mouth. Her hand abandons the headboard to tangle in your hair, yanking almost painfully at your roots while you feel her cum spill onto your lap. She pushes your head away once she’s done, your lips parting from her nipple with a string of saliva, and lifts herself off your cock. The two of you are panting in unison, while you’re still fighting the simmer of arousal in your gut.
“Hmm, that was nice. Do you normally let your partner finish first?” she asks, resting her hands on your chest again. “I didn’t think you were the type.”
Your face burns in embarrassment because she’s not wrong. “Um…no,” you admit, knowing full well you could lie, but you feel like she’ll be able to see through it.
Natasha smirks. “Such a gentlewoman with me,” she says, bending over to kiss you, this time much more softly than before. 
“Only for you,” you murmur back, shocked at how whipped you already are for her. 
“You want me to help you finish?” Natasha asks, pushing the strap aside to brush her fingers across your hot center. Your hips jerk off the bed, almost launching Natasha into the air. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she giggles, climbing off your lap and helping you pull the strap off your waist. You’re practically frozen in anticipation, watching with bated breath as Natasha scoots herself down the bed and lowers her head between your legs.
You melt at the feeling of her mouth against your center, perfectly hot and wet. Your back arches off the bed when her tongue glides through your folds, lapping up the mixture of body fluids like it’s some kind life-saving elixir. 
“Shit, baby, that feels amazing,” you moan, burying one of your hands in her red tresses, motioning with your hips that you want her deeper. She obliges by wrapping her lips around your clit and giving it a few hard sucks that have you seeing white stars behind your eyelids. You let go of her hair, afraid you’ll tear it out and grab onto the Egyptian cotton sheets tightly. Her tongue pushes into you and you swear you convulse around it, already leaking into her mouth when she’s only just started to go down on you.
Natasha’s arms wrap around your powerful thighs, trying to force them apart as you close them around her head. You don’t mean to put her in awkward, even dangerous position, but you can’t think about anything other than the pulsing in your center, soothed and encouraged by the heat of Natasha’s mouth. You dig your heels into the mattress to prevent yourself from bouncing across the bed at the rocking motion your body had adopted to maximize your pleasure. Every time her tongue slips into you, the muscles in your stomach contract so sharply it almost hurts, and when she laps at your clit, the stimulation is so great you feel immediately dizzy.
“Natasha,” you pant, unable to hold out any longer. “I’m gonna…Please let me…” 
She presses into you with even more enthusiasm than before and your body seizes as you release yourself into her mouth. Natasha eagerly collects all your slick, her red lipstick smeared on the insides of your thighs.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moan, feeling your high is going to last forever. But just the sensations start to fizz, you realize Natasha still has her iron grip on your legs, keeping them spread apart.
“I want another,” she demands, in a sultry tone that almost pulls the second orgasm from you right there.
“Natasha,” you whine, fearing you are too sensitive to deliver her wishes. You twist your body back and forth, half-heartedly trying to free yourself. But Natasha won’t let you, lowering her head to your heat and taking what she wants. Overly stimulated, every muscle in your body goes rigid as fireworks of pleasure, bordering the line of painful, explode inside of you. Natasha’s tongue somehow reaches even deeper than she had the first time, the tip pressing against your front ridged wall and you lose it for the second time in minutes.
“Oh, fuck!” you cry, your back arching off the bed but Natasha holds your waist down, determined to not let a drop of your essence go to waste. Your head is spinning and your body is like a live wire of excitement, twitching and trembling until you have no more energy left and and you melt into a limp mess.
Natasha kisses up your abs, between your breasts and licks at the column of your sweaty throat. Her lips finally connect with yours and you can taste a hint of yourself mixed with hers. You can’t wait to taste her straight from the source, but it’s going to take a bit of time to find the strength to move after two back-to-back orgasms. She wraps her arms around your torso, nuzzling into the side of your chest and inhaling deeply.
There is a long, but not uncomfortable silence as you two of you find your breath.
“I’m not letting you leave until you sit on my face,” you finally say. Natasha looks up at you with a satisfied grin.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” she says, crawling up so she can do just that.
***********************************************************************
The moment Natasha made eye contact with you, she knew you were done for. You were far too predictable. She knew exactly the kind of woman you chased after. She knew what she needed to say to catch your attention, to convince you that she deserved a private moment with you.
You were too easy.
When you were so busy looking at her lips, trying to figure out when the right moment to kiss her was, you didn’t notice her take your phone out of your pocket, plug a flash drive into the charging slot, and return it back to your pocket in record time.
As you carry her in the elevator, your face buried in her breasts while she slips a tiny audio recorder into the pocket of your blazer. Through the fog of pure lust for you, Natasha struggles to but succeeds in making a mental map of your apartment. Where your office is, how many computers you have.
After numerous orgasms, she’s sufficiently fucked your brains out and cuddled with you long enough for you to pass out into an impossibly deep slumber, she gets up and heads into your office. She doesn’t need more than five minutes to hack into your devices and steal all the data saved on them. She chuckles to herself at how easy the task is; if she had known it would’ve been this simple and enjoyable, she would’ve come after you a long time ago.
Natasha gathers all her things and excuses herself from your apartment without a good-bye.
***********************************************************************
DAY 2
When you wake up the next morning, your mind a haze from the absolute debauchery that occurred the previous night. You rub your eyes and roll over, finding yourself naked and alone in bed. There is a deep soreness in your body, in almost every muscle, and some you haven’t felt for a long time. Natasha’s scent of vanilla and cherry lingers, but she’s nowhere to be found.
“Fuck,” you grumble, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. It’s been blowing up with notifications, which is a little unusual, but you assume it’s mostly from friends still congratulating you on your promotion. You open a text from your best friend and work partner, Tony.
From Tony: You fucked up, dude.
He included a link to a TMZ article. You click on it, half-wondering if it’ll send you to some troll site. The headline reads:
New CEO of Envy Industries Y/N spotted getting cozy with Black Widow Corp. heiress Natasha Romanoff 
Everything clicks to you now.
“Oh, fuck.”
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AN: To be continued? 👀
Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰
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dirtyvulture · 8 days
Note
An excellent point
Can you make like...How do you think the avengers would react if they found a Flashdrive witn Y/n modeling pictures... after she forgot in a table
I’m not technically taking requests right now, but I’ll give this one a shot:
“I thought you said we weren’t supposed to stick unknown flash drives in our laptops,” Steve points out as Tony spins the silver flash drive with a coating of chipped red paint towards himself.
“I said you guys aren’t supposed to,” he says, “But I can do whatever I want.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. You’re still putting everyone at risk if–” Steve continues, as Natasha rolls her eyes next to him and wonder why he’s even putting up an argument.
“What do you humans keep on those tiny sticks anyway?” Thor asks, his entire hand shoved into a nearly empty box of Poptarts.
“We’re about to find out.” Tony connects the flash drive to his laptop. He opens the drive to reveal a single folder. Steve, Natasha, and Clint crowd closer to him to get a better view, while Thor discards his box of Poptarts and goes hunting through the cupboards for another snack.
“It looks like a bunch of pictures and some videos,” Tony says, reading off the file names. But the thumbnails are too small to tell what they are, so he double clicks on one, opening a very high-resolution photo of you in black lingerie, posing by a stripper pole on some kind of stage.
“Oh no,” Steve squeaks, turning away as if to protect your modesty.
“Hell yeah,” Clint says in approval. “Go Y/N.”
Natasha feels her mouth go dry as she stares at your hardly covered body.
“Is this what Y/N does on her days off?” Tony says, clicking through the photos. The photoshoot seems to have no end, as you move from posing on the stage to lying out on a couch, progressively losing more and more of your clothing until–
“Yep, that’s enough for the day.” Tony shuts the lid of his laptop. “Someone should tell Y/N to at least password-protect her flash drive.” 
“Let me make a copy first,” Natasha mutters.
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AN: This is a Nat x R blog after all, so hopefully you didn't expect anything less. :)
237 notes · View notes
dirtyvulture · 8 days
Note
UP TO YOU 👀
Can you make like...How do you think the avengers would react if they found a Flashdrive witn Y/n modeling pictures... after she forgot in a table
I’m not technically taking requests right now, but I’ll give this one a shot:
“I thought you said we weren’t supposed to stick unknown flash drives in our laptops,” Steve points out as Tony spins the silver flash drive with a coating of chipped red paint towards himself.
“I said you guys aren’t supposed to,” he says, “But I can do whatever I want.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. You’re still putting everyone at risk if–” Steve continues, as Natasha rolls her eyes next to him and wonder why he’s even putting up an argument.
“What do you humans keep on those tiny sticks anyway?” Thor asks, his entire hand shoved into a nearly empty box of Poptarts.
“We’re about to find out.” Tony connects the flash drive to his laptop. He opens the drive to reveal a single folder. Steve, Natasha, and Clint crowd closer to him to get a better view, while Thor discards his box of Poptarts and goes hunting through the cupboards for another snack.
“It looks like a bunch of pictures and some videos,” Tony says, reading off the file names. But the thumbnails are too small to tell what they are, so he double clicks on one, opening a very high-resolution photo of you in black lingerie, posing by a stripper pole on some kind of stage.
“Oh no,” Steve squeaks, turning away as if to protect your modesty.
“Hell yeah,” Clint says in approval. “Go Y/N.”
Natasha feels her mouth go dry as she stares at your hardly covered body.
“Is this what Y/N does on her days off?” Tony says, clicking through the photos. The photoshoot seems to have no end, as you move from posing on the stage to lying out on a couch, progressively losing more and more of your clothing until–
“Yep, that’s enough for the day.” Tony shuts the lid of his laptop. “Someone should tell Y/N to at least password-protect her flash drive.” 
“Let me make a copy first,” Natasha mutters.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
AN: This is a Nat x R blog after all, so hopefully you didn't expect anything less. :)
237 notes · View notes
dirtyvulture · 9 days
Note
Can you make like...How do you think the avengers would react if they found a Flashdrive witn Y/n modeling pictures... after she forgot in a table
I’m not technically taking requests right now, but I’ll give this one a shot:
“I thought you said we weren’t supposed to stick unknown flash drives in our laptops,” Steve points out as Tony spins the silver flash drive with a coating of chipped red paint towards himself.
“I said you guys aren’t supposed to,” he says, “But I can do whatever I want.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. You’re still putting everyone at risk if–” Steve continues, as Natasha rolls her eyes next to him and wonder why he’s even putting up an argument.
“What do you humans keep on those tiny sticks anyway?” Thor asks, his entire hand shoved into a nearly empty box of Poptarts.
“We’re about to find out.” Tony connects the flash drive to his laptop. He opens the drive to reveal a single folder. Steve, Natasha, and Clint crowd closer to him to get a better view, while Thor discards his box of Poptarts and goes hunting through the cupboards for another snack.
“It looks like a bunch of pictures and some videos,” Tony says, reading off the file names. But the thumbnails are too small to tell what they are, so he double clicks on one, opening a very high-resolution photo of you in black lingerie, posing by a stripper pole on some kind of stage.
“Oh no,” Steve squeaks, turning away as if to protect your modesty.
“Hell yeah,” Clint says in approval. “Go Y/N.”
Natasha feels her mouth go dry as she stares at your hardly covered body.
“Is this what Y/N does on her days off?” Tony says, clicking through the photos. The photoshoot seems to have no end, as you move from posing on the stage to lying out on a couch, progressively losing more and more of your clothing until–
“Yep, that’s enough for the day.” Tony shuts the lid of his laptop. “Someone should tell Y/N to at least password-protect her flash drive.” 
“Let me make a copy first,” Natasha mutters.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
AN: This is a Nat x R blog after all, so hopefully you didn't expect anything less. :)
237 notes · View notes
dirtyvulture · 11 days
Note
I have a one shot request for your Darkest Knight story where reader and nat go to Saint Petersburg. I would love to see Nats parents reactions to mutant reader, especially Alexi bc you know that would be interesting. I love your writing so pls write it however you like, I know it’ll be amazing.
👀
I hope you haven't hacked in my computer, because the sequel to Darkest Knight will have at least one scene there. 👀👀👀
But thank you for the love :) I am still working on the sequel but I hope to release "Knight Falls" soon!!! ♥
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dirtyvulture · 11 days
Note
😎 Sooooooo My Nephew is due TODAY ✨✨✨✨ my sister was induced this morning and is going back to the hospital night . It’s very likely that My nephew will be born on the 11 ( especially considering the first baby’s labor typically takes a REALLY LONG time and my nephew is my sister’s first) . So Dad , Mom and I decided to celebrate a bit with beer , pizza and there is also cake !!!!!!!
Now let’s see if I can come up with soo thoughts !!!!!
I will start it with , I read the new fic and it’s AMAZING like always and once again vulture proves why they have the title of god of lust with that smut !!!!! I have been talking with a friend and we all know how SB is a golden retriever , welllllll ….. my friend and I decided that Wolvie R is a grumpy old German Shepherd and that DK! Nat is a golden retriever ( Sgt Romanoff is of course a black cat) . My friend and I also decided that the CEO ! R is a high maintenance golden doodle , and that Nat was acting like a TRUE Black Widow ( much like the ones in the comics and muc) . I found a very interesting detail about how excited R got about talking about her work , her plans , tech in general and her company….. she has so much pride and passion in her work . Seeing how that played out is just soooo heartbreaking.
Ummmmmmm , let’s see if I can come up with something of a thought for the SB and DK universe.
I think Sarah ( SB’s sister) was induced when she had her son ( SB’s nephew) , SB was soooo excited ( think FULL BLOWN excited golden retriever completed with HONEST TO GOD ZOOMIES ) and was trying to be as supportive and helpful as possible . Getting Sarah snacks, helping her walking around, just anything and everything . They are even helpful and supportive of Sarah’s partner. SB told Nat that she didn’t have to come if she didn’t want to but Nat came anyways , Nat fell asleep in a chair and SB DIDNT SLEEP AT ALL ( they were READY for their nephew) . Ps I am fully projecting as my sister lives soooo far away from the rest of us so I won’t be able to see , meet or hold my nephew UNTIL JULY/ JUNE 😭😭😭😭 I will probably wouldn’t be able sleep tonight because I am sooo excited for my nephew!!!!!!
Soooo I had to clip my nails again today , my nails grow so damn fast that I have to CONSTANTLY cut them ( I FUCKING HATE those emery board things, they feel sooo weird and I HATE IT) . I think that R’s also CONSTANTLY has to cut/ clip her nails as they grow LONG and SHARP ( not like full blown CLAWS but still long and sharp) and soooo FAST , so she cuts and clips them so she doesn’t accidentally scratch the shit out of herself or others. She also has a bit longer Canine teeth, sharp ones too ( again NOT full blown fangs or anything like that) . R also HATES the dentist ( I can go more in depth on this later ) !!!!
That is about it for this post , everyone take it !!!!!
I'm responding to this very late but I hope your nephew was born safely and your sister is doing well :)
Thank you very much for the love on a new fic! 🥰 I do have some plans for a Part 2 when I finally get the time to write again.
I love all the analogies to dogs, they are all very fitting. And yep, CEO!R is definitely a golden doodle. I don't think she necessarily tries to be a high-maintenance or obnoxious person, it's kind of the way she was raised, and yes, she is actually extremely smart and talented, but as a woman in tech she is just not respected that way.
Sergeant Beef would be so excited for their coming nephew, and of course Sergeant Nat would be very impressed (and probably even feral) for them the whole time. And I hope you get to see your nephew in person at the earliest chance you get!
Lol, I wonder if Wolvie!R has the dexterity to cut her own nails with her claws on the other hand...that would probably be very dangerous though and Nat would make her stop immediately.
Thanks for stopping by, anon!
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dirtyvulture · 14 days
Note
missing beefy!sergeant!r
Me too anon 🥺
But we must be comforted by the fact that they are off somewhere happily filling Sgt Romanoff's beef quota for the day. 😞
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dirtyvulture · 15 days
Note
Hey vulture! could you possibly write a one-shot with kelly Jones x reader? like you know...they work at nasa together and while at work reader founds herself with her hand in kelly's panties
thanks!😊
~🦉
Hello there 🦉!
Thanks for sending the message! Unfortunately I only write for Nat x R ... but perhaps one of the other many talented writers here can take on your request? 👀
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dirtyvulture · 16 days
Text
We are but a slab of meat, always ready to please 😪
home is where the heart is ★ n.r
— 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ;; 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 & 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇
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in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)
pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader
chapter summary ★ twitter's sole purpose is for you to thirst over your wife, the beach is a good place to spend time with your kids, and ogle at your wife in a bathing suit, but not a great a place to have sex. (lesson learnt).
warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, hard stuff: beach sex, doggy style, cunnilingus, daddy kink, SO MUCH thirsting
word count ★ 4.0k (get fed gremlins)
SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST
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*****
In tandem with Tony Stark’s spontaneity, Steve Rogers’ unending enthusiasm, and the fact that you privately owned close to twenty beach resorts in New York alone, the lot of you and your other friends had a beach outing planned for that Sunday.
After the astronomically long time it took to get your kids dressed, beach toys packed, picnic dinner prepared, and everything loaded into the car, five happy L/N-Romanoffs finally kickstart their journey to the Westview Surfers’ Beach.
“SAND!” Emilia roars maniacally, once the five of you step foot onto the sandy shore. She’s gone like the ocean breeze, sprinting into the distance, grains of sand flying everywhere.
“Sea! Sea! Sea!” Emilio is equally as excited, already by the tide of the brilliantly blue ocean, following its ebb and flow with scampering feet and delighted cries. 
“Careful, Emilio!” Marina says, holding his hand, preventing her over excited brother from falling over. You can see the way she laughs along, kicking up water with her slippers.
Behind your eager children, you swing you and Natasha’s interlocked hands as you casually stroll along the beach, giving her a sweet smile. 
The sand that crunched beneath your feet was earthen and dry, such a gentle hue of gold, almost as grounding as the bright smile your wife returned.
“You look heavenly,” you murmur, bringing up the underside of your wife’s palm to press a gentle kiss to it. She flushes prettily, the sundress she’s adorning doing wonders to her skin tone and curves.
Natasha returns the softness, pressing into your side as you wrap a firm arm around her waist, hand cupping the curve of her motherly hips.
“Oy, lovebirds!”
At the sound of a distinctly familiar voice, you and Natasha spin around with bemused looks. From a distance, you can see Tony with a flamingo floatie around his hips, waving comically.
Next to him, the regular gang is sprawled across three separate picnic mats, conveniently hidden from the sun under several large beach umbrellas. 
Pepper is fixing up Tony’s floatie, to which Carol and Valkyrie snicker at from afar. Thor is asleep on the mats, taking up more than half the area. Laura is busy reading, with Clint probably gone to find seashells for the sandcastle Bucky and Steve are constructing. The kids make a long human chain from the shore to the sandcastle, scooping up buckets of water to make a trench.
“Aunty Y/N! Aunty Nat!” Nathaniel squeals, dropping his bucket, running over and leaping into your arms.
“What’s up, you little rascal?” you ask, laughing as the youngest Barton giggles. Natasha ruffles his head, waving at Lila. 
Morgan, being the same age as Emilia and Emilio, is already chatting excitedly with them and kicking up a loud racket. Marina joins Cooper in attaining bucketfuls of seawater.
“What’s up, my favourite lesbians?” Tony calls out to you and Natasha with outstretched arms, comically ignorant to the death-glare Valkyrie shoots him. 
Natasha rolls her eyes in faux annoyance, strolling past him and brightening up animatedly to chat with the ladies. You pat Tony’s back sympathetically. 
Your attention flits to an impressively large sandcastle with a sculpture of a mermaid on top, hand-crafted by Steve and Bucky. Leaning closer to Tony, you whisper, “Why does the mermaid kinda look like you?”
Leaving him to splutter at his intentionally uncanny resemblance to the mermaid, with a seashell bra and an elegant tail, you look up to see Clint coming back with his arms full of seashells. 
“Hi, Y/N!” He greets distractedly. In the midst of his frantic haste, Clint’s foot gets caught on a stray rock —
And the rest is a scene out of a comedy movie. 
The seashells go flying out of his arms, scattering onto the picnic mat and spraying sand everywhere, Clint loses his balance and flies forward, outstretched arms knock into the sandcastle, and everyone watches in horror as Steve and Bucky’s great unfinished symphony comes crumbling down, leaving only the head of Tony’s mermaid untouched.
A quiet hush falls. 
Bucky and Steve’s faces are morphed into disbelief and heartbreak, and Clint trembles in fear with sand in his mouth. Tony shudders at his beheaded mermaid, the ladies have their hands over their mouths, and Natasha fights battles in order not to burst out laughing. Thor sleeps unperturbed, and even the kids' racket has died down.
“Well,” you announce, breaking the stunned silence. “Who wants to go surfing?”
*****
As Natasha lazes in a beach chair, away from the gory scene of Steve and Bucky dunking Clint in the seawater, she watches you with a budding fire in her belly. 
Standing on the sand so casually, you have your hefty surfboard tucked under one arm, and Emilio in your other. You’re speaking to him with a roguish grin, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, tinted sunglasses pushed up to muss up your perfectly tousled hair. 
“You ready to ride the waves, bub?” 
“Yeah! I’m ready!”
Your wife swallows, thinking she was ready to ride something else.
Natasha crosses her legs unsubtly. It was honestly unfair, how indifferently attractive you were, like it was a state of being instead of a practised art. 
Perhaps it was her love for you and the longevity of your marriage that warped her perception of sexiness, but when you were casually strolling on the beach with that chiselled abdomen on display, who was she to be blamed?
“Y/N!” Natasha calls, sitting up slightly. There’s a devious little idea blooming in the back of her mind, and she feels like taking the bait, just for today.
You look up at your wife’s beckoning, and smile widely at her. Setting Emilio down gingerly and calling him a “little rascal”, you jog over to Natasha easily. 
When you flick your hair back, it glints in the sunlight, and so does the sheen of sweat under your sports bra, defining the cutting edges of your abdomen. Natasha has the criminal urge to rip off your swimming trunks there and then.
Despite your obliviousness, Natasha is more than well-aware of the stares you’re getting from young women and married women alike, momentarily disregarding their boyfriends and husbands to gawk at you.
“Damn, look at that fine specimen!”
“Ryan, why don’t you work out more?”
“There goes my heterosexuality.”
You get feasted upon hungry eyes like a slab of beef, likened to your beefiness, but it only makes Natasha’s possessiveness skyrocket.
“Hey, honey,” you say, settling on a low and inviting tone that has your wife blushing. You crouch down next to her beach chair, holding her hand in a sweet gesture. “What’s up?” 
You’re close to her, so close, and she can feel the heat radiating off you, and your distinct scent, and the overwhelming senses of want and need are washing over Natasha like those tidal waves in the ocean.
But well, Natasha knew more than a few ways to rile you up too.
“I think I want to go surfing too,” she lies through her teeth, having no inclination to partake in the sport. Natasha fakes a pout all too well, knowing it’s one of your many weaknesses. “But the sun’s really hot out there, so I need some help with the sunscreen.” 
It wasn’t like she’d have needed it, anyway. Just like that and you’re sold, ever the gentleman and the golden retriever, digging for the sunscreen in the duffel bag.
“Of course, honey,” you reply readily. “Is it the Banana Boat sunscreen, or is that the kids’ one? Oh wait, we have the SPF 50 one, I think that’s—”
Words trail off comically when you look back up at Natasha, gradually dying down completely.
Your wife has conveniently slid off her outer layer of a sheer white blouse, leaving her in just a matching two-piece set of an azure bathing suit. The top piece is held together with thin pieces of string, accentuating her chest in a tight cradle. The lack of coverage shows off the dip of her hips and her soft curves.
Coherent thoughts in your mindwires get severed as Natasha plays with the string on her bottom piece, nearly flashing you as the material slides down ever so slightly. Your throat dries up as her fingers trail a path over her tummy and cleavage. She plays with another bundle of string that keeps her chest barely covered, and the irresistible urge rises within you to undo it.
“My eyes are up here, y’know,” Natasha murmurs, laying on her side and looking at you through lowered lashes.
“I know where they are,” you answer hoarsely, gaze still fixated on your wife’s enticing cleavage.
The sheer amount of bare skin that Natasha is showing off has your remaining fragments of sanity falling to pieces. There’s no point even trying to hide the tent in your pants, poking uncomfortably against the fabric.
“Gonna help me lather sunscreen?” Natasha asks with a silky lilt to her voice, turning over on the beach chair. 
You groan out loud when you see the curve of your wife’s ass on display, her rounded bottom barely covered by a few measly pieces of material, all held together by flimsy strings and nothing else.
“Mhm,” you respond brainlessly, uncapping the bottle and rubbing your hands with a bountiful amount of the moisture, clearly in excess.
You begin applying your wife’s sunscreen with overzealous eagerness and desire. Large hands spread unnecessarily widely as you gain coverage over the soft skin of her back, trailing up and down and smearing the white moisture over her soft skin.
“Oh, that feels nice,” Natasha says airily, a dainty little sound that causes your cock to twitch in your shorts. 
The line down the middle of Natasha’s back is emphasised as she tenses and relaxes it. Like clockwork, you begin massaging your wife’s back to release the tension in her muscles.
“Y/N…” The breathy moan she lets out is pure heaven, dragged out from the depths of her throat, then lifting to a higher tone that washes over you in a sea of goosebumps.
Of course, your faux masseuse skillset is just a simple ploy to grope and knead at Natasha. Fat spills through your fingers as you spread your hands across her torso, as Natasha whines softly.
It wouldn’t take a genius to realise that the heat building between the two of you was not just due to the heatwaves under the beating, unforgiving sun.
Your frighteningly quickly-growing arousal only heightens when Natasha feels that her back is done and flips over. Face-to-face with her hefty mounds, a round belly, and the blown pupils of viridescent eyes — you lose the plot completely. 
Deft hands fly to your wife’s ample assets, squeezing her hips in sinful amounts and staking your claim. “You’re so pretty, baby,” you mumble, face buried into the crook of her neck, subtly mouthing at her neck.
“Mhm,” Natasha whines in agreement, but it turns into a gasp as your fingers slip underneath the material of her bra, plucking at hardened nipples in merciless haste.
You press down onto her, flat tongue and sharp teeth, licking a broad stripe up your wife’s exposed collarbone to the tender column of her neck.
Before you can taint clear skin with raging-purple bruises, you’re pulled away with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You look back up to see Natasha gazing at you sternly. 
“Let’s try not to perpetuate public sex while you are the owner of this place, with all our friends present, and the kids building sandcastles no less than ten feet away.”
Much to your disgruntlement, these factors weigh in heavily and overpower your body’s built-in “pretty-wife-need-to-worship” mechanic. Now, your shorts fill up a lot more space than need be, your shaft pressing hot and tight against your left leg, clearly visible.
You grumble, hands still clammy with sunblock, the ghost of Natasha’s warmth still interlaced between each of your fingers. “You’re a meanie,” you sulk, lust-driven adrenaline coursing through your veins.
Natasha looks at you with a wicked smile. “And you’re too susceptible, darling. Now, where’s my flask? I plan on staying plenty hydrated before watching you rough it out against the waves.”
Clearly put-off by not being able to fuck your wife in your public beach resort, you flip off a little kid who openly ogles at Natasha’s ass, much to your wife’s horror.
*****
“I’M NOT BUILT FOR THIS!” Tony screams, arms flailing, as he rides a shallow wave. His firmly implanted foot adds too much weight on the front of his neon yellow surfboard, and the over-eager man overturns comically as the current rushes.
You laugh out loud, Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, surfing past Tony in a smooth motion. “Stick to the flamingo floatie, little guy!”
Valkyrie barely dodges the splash Tony creates, nearly falling off her own board. “Fuck off, you cunt!” she yells, full-chested and deadly focused on the tide. From a distance in the shallower part of the ocean, a reprimanding “Language!” can be heard.
Natasha’s wading in the shallower waters with Laura, while Thor had opted to sun tan on the beach while watching the kids.
As a large wave approaches, Natasha watches with intent. Upon your wife’s new found attention, you mentally prepare yourself, determined to impress her, and perhaps get revenge for her prior ploy.
You manoeuvre deftly, putting weight on your back foot to stabilise as you approach the wave head-on. Three… two… one. You add even more weight on your back foot as you go around the back turn while gaining speed, garnering energy like a coiled spring.
As the wave reaches its full height, broad and steep, your calves release with impact, propelling up the barrel of the wave like a spring. The surfboard moves in effortless motion, anchored by your back foot, navigated by your right.  
The second you reach the lip of the wave, you find the sweet spot to execute the backside tail slide. You rotate your wide-set shoulders, swiftly switching the pressure to your front foot. 
Your surfboard glides off the surface for a split-second, turning mid-air — there’s a camera-worthy frame of damp hair, stray droplets, and focused eyes.
You slide back down at an oblique angle with purpose and precision, like a scene out of a movie, locking eyes with Natasha as the wave crashes behind you.
“Damn, Y/N!” Carol hoots, looking amazed as you surf back to the rest of the gang.
“That was crazy,” Steve adds, resting belly-down onto the surfboard, strikingly adorable for a hulking man.
“Gotta admit, that was pretty cool,” Tony comments, his head bobbing above the surface of the water and his surfboard nowhere to be found.
You laugh along with them, attempting to explain the technical jargon of how you did it. But as much as you appreciated your friends’ enthusiasm, there was ultimately only one person you sought validation from. 
“Hi,” you say to Natasha with a stupid smile, sitting on your surfboard, having escaped the rest. 
“That was very sexy of you,” your wife wastes no time in stating, as if she wasn’t five millimetres away from flashing you and killing you with her sexiness. 
Natasha is stuck on the image of your damp hair flying into place like a scene out of a superhero movie, unbuttoned shirt flailing up to expose your defined back and abdomen, concentration flashing in your eyes.
“Mhm,” you hum lowly. Fire burns low in your belly as you ogle your wife in her bathing suit, pulling her closer by the underside of her thighs.
In a moment of indiscretion, your left hand slips upwards and undoes the knot on Natasha’s bathing suit, letting the material slip from your fingers.
“Y/N!” Though blocked from view of the others as it was underwater, Natasha lets out a breathy gasp and presses into you. Her cunt, already soaked before, gets even wetter at the intrusion of seawater.
“Can I claim my prize?” you ask heavily, hot pants against your wife’s ear, driving her wild with the way your fingers slip through her folds to encroach on her entrance.
In no time at all, two of your fingers are at Natasha’s cunt, feeling slick even underwater, and you push in—
“Group picture!” Steve yells from a distance, as you and your wife effectively leap apart in the water, the heated moment dissipated into thin air. 
But it lingers, the arousal, swimming in the back of your consciousness as you smile for a group selfie. Bucky’s arm is around you but you thank the heavens for hiding your erection under the water.
You can tell Natasha feels the same, eyes locking on you even after Steve successfully takes the group picture. (After many attempts.)
“I’m gonna go check on the kids,” Natasha finally says, gesturing back as if she was going to walk back to shore. She’s expectant, waiting.
“And I think I’m gonna go check with her!” you add, chuckling awkwardly, beckoning backwards with your thumbs.
“Okay,” Steve says disbelievingly, eyes glimmering with knowing and just a little amusement. Tony is much less subtle in his sniggering, and Clint looks horrified at the prospect of doing it at the beach.
Tony claps you on the back as you walk past. “Use protection,” he whispers, and you fumble out a haphazard response. 
*****
Turns out, you and Natasha don’t even make it to a completely secluded area before you’re half-undressed and panting. 
And maybe that’s half the thrill, hidden in a secluded beach cave, with regular people roaming around just outside. You’re pressed skin-to-skin with each other and tuning out everything else.
You groan as you snap the strings of Natasha’s bathing suit off, finally, finally. Teardrop tits bounce in place, shaking with the impact of how hard you jerk against your wife, unbearably uncomfortable in the constraints of your boxers.
Natasha takes mercy on you, helping you to tug down your Calvin Clein briefs, watching with heady arousal as your shaft slaps against your six-pack, red and raw and leaking.
“Hurry up,” Natasha whines, bending over and clutching at a stray rock, ass in the air as she exposes her leaking cunt to you. 
“Fuck, baby,” you groan, grabbing onto her ass and slapping it just because you can. You sink deep into your wife, warmth and relief enveloping you as you bury yourself inside her.
The first thrust is like heaven, feeling the pulse and push of Natasha’s walls as she accommodates to take your size, stretching to a familiar extent because you’d made a nest in there for yourself. 
The second thrust takes you there, an insurgent amount of slick coating your cock, flooding the path you proceed to pummel into. “Natty,” you whine, groping at her ass and pulling it closer to you, hilt-deep with no signs of stopping.
“Mhm, daddy,” Natasha moans, walls fluttering around you as you pull out, trying to stop your escape. But then you thrust forward, again, warm and full and deep, and your wife wails beneath you.
Natasha lets this velvet sound from her throat, silky and coated in honey as she breathes reinvigorated life into your arousal.
“Fuck,” you growl, rutting your hips with more rigour. Natasha whines, wrists suspended behind her back with one of your hands as you have your way with her.
“Baby I’m gonna come,” you gasp, virility cloaking the way your abdomen presses up against Natasha, left hand encircling her neck to bring your hot mouth up to hers.
You’re hardly embarrassed for how fast you’re barrelling towards climax, as Natasha is in much more of the same position. She’s panting your name, clutching at the rocks with hard sand digging into her feet. Your cock nudges and prods into her sweet spots effortlessly, the result of countless sex experiences.
“M-me too,” she responds breathily, breaking off into a whine as you press heated, open-mouthed kisses along the line of her back, tasting the salt and sweat on your tongue.
Pleasure blossoms in your lower torso, creeping up the base of your shaft and working its way upwards. Hot arousal overflows from its constraints, and your teeth sinks into your bottom lip as you come, quick and hot and messy.
“Oh!” Natasha moans, high-pitched and sensitive, as you pluck at her ruby-hard nipples. It only takes a few more thrusts for her to reach release, dripping down your cock and her thighs.
“Mhm, nhn—” As your wife raises in pitch and volume, you stuff three fingers into her open mouth, giving her something to suck on and remain quiet. You continue with gentle thrusts, feeling thick white liquid flow out the side of Natasha’s ruined cunt.
“Needa taste you,” you suddenly grunt, hips bumping into Natasha’s ass. She babbles her agreement, despite being half-conscious in a state of post-orgasmic pleasure. 
Easily, you lift Natasha and set her down onto the sandy shore of the beach cave, where the tide is low and washes over your feet gently.
It’s a change of pace, a gradual end to your savage ravaging, slow and sensual, where the water meets the sand. You lower yourself between Natasha’s spread thighs, lips slightly parted and dripping with need.
Natasha swallows audibly, right hand twisting into your tousled hair, looking at you through hooded eyes and lowered lashes. 
Words are left unspoken between the two of you, the tension speaking for itself, as you retain eye contact while lowering your mouth onto Natasha’s pulsing cunt.
You take your last breath of the fresh sea salt air and summer breeze before drowning in unbridled desire. As if making out passionately, you eat your wife out, switching between licking and sucking.
Poetry is written between the lines — the lilt of Natasha’s hitched breath, the crease of her thighs where your fingertips drag across, the shallow water that wades over your feet in a cool decrescendo.
Your head dips down once more, warm and wet, and the sun melts into the horizon, glazing golden and liquid orange. 
With your tongue lodged fully inside your wife’s pussy, marking your inability to breathe, and wide hands spread firmly over Natasha’s thighs, the two of you converge in saintly devotion, hushed worship falling from her lips.
“Please, just like that, please, daddy, please.”
Just like that, and the ocean swallows you whole, taking you under Natasha’s hold inescapably. Your name is said in a breathless cry, lilting and pronounced, and you shudder between her clenched thighs.
“Nat?”
“Yeah?”
“I think there’s ocean water up my asshole.”
“Yeah, I got some sand up my vagina too.”
*****
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and that's chapter two of 'hiwthi'! how did yall feel about the introduction of the rest of the cast? i personally enjoyed writing the build-up scenes the most. (sunscreen and surfing!) and for those keen on expanding the family dynamic, i'll be building on that in the next chapter!
reblog or i will take 292857192 years to post the next part
SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST
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