Tumgik
#black avenger reader
romanoffshouse · 5 months
Text
[Natasha speaking Russian]
Y/N, sighing: Yeah, I know.
Tony: You speak Russian?
Y/N: No. I just know the phrase, "This is all your fault"
Y/N: She says it a lot.
4K notes · View notes
waltermis · 25 days
Text
Tumblr media
And yet she's still the one that got screwed over by Marvel 😮‍💨
2K notes · View notes
girlygirl14534 · 2 months
Text
Body Heat - Bucky x Reader
Tumblr media
Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader
Warnings: Smut, Cock Warming, Snowed In, Only One Bed
Length: 3.7k
Summary: A blizzard knocks out the power in the safehouse where you and Bucky are sharing a bed. Can Bucky keep you warm through the cold night?
Author’s Note: It has been so cold where I live lately and there’s nobody better than Bucky to warm me up. I’m entering this work into @targaryenvampireslayer Blind Date Writing Challenge. I don’t participate in a lot of fandom events, so this was really fun! I used the Only One Bed trope and the Dialogue Prompts “Take your clothes off. Right now,” and “Are you holding back? Don’t.” Happy reading and stay warm! Divider via @firefly-graphics
Read this work on AO3
Tumblr media
“You didn’t even want to get egg rolls,” Bucky whined as you grabbed one off of his plate.
You grinned as you bit into it. He smiled back at you, but his shoulders shifted ever so slightly, tipping you off to his next move. His chopsticks swooped onto your plate in retaliation, but you were ready for him, blocking his attempt on your orange chicken.
He glared at you and you relented. He popped the chicken into his mouth with a satisfied smirk. You rolled your eyes at him and took a sip of your beer. It was a local brew. A little hoppy but not too bitter, with a surprisingly crisp taste. You loved trying beers at every new little town you ended up at. Nothing beat a cold beer after a long mission, even if it was 20 degrees and dropping outside.
It was warm and cozy inside the little cabin. This safe house was cuter than most. It had a little wood stove and lace tablecloth—definitely grandmother-approved. The place was small, but you’d stayed at smaller ones. Although most had at least a few twin size cots. The bed here looked comfortable, but there was only one.
“It’s picking up out there,” Bucky nodded at the window. Outside you could see the snow swirling in the wind.
“The Winter Soldier scared of a little snow?” you teased.
“Oh, shut up. You wouldn’t last ten seconds out there. Remember Helsinki?”
“That is so unfair! I fell into a frozen pond!”
“I told you not to walk on that patch of ice!”
“You were being a know-it-all.”
“That’s because I actually know it all.”
You threw your half-eaten egg roll at him.
“You didn’t even eat it?!”
You shrugged and he glared at you as he finished it. After dinner, you got ready for bed. It had been a long day. When Bucky came out of the shower, you were already under the paisley-printed covers.
He grinned at you. “That’s my favorite bonnet,” he said, nodding at the silky cap on your head.
“You have favorite bonnets of mine?”
He shrugged. “I’ve seen you in enough of them. I love the one with rhinestones on the headband. You look like a queen. The Kirby one is really cute, too.”
“Nice try, Bucky.” You threw a pillow at him. “You’re still sleeping on the floor.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes.”
You knew he was going to jump on the bed a second before he did it, but you didn’t stop him. He looked so satisfied with himself.
“Time for bed,” you said as you started stacking pillows on the bed between you.
“Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off of me?” he teased.
“Don’t think I forgot how you hogged the couch in Bangladesh.”
“I maintain that you rolled off of the couch by yourself.”
“Well then consider it protection from me rolling you off the bed.”
He laughed as you finished the wall of pillows, marking your territory. You were just grateful that the bed was big enough to have your own space and that there were enough blankets that you wouldn’t have to share. You loved Bucky, but in your friendship you were more likely to trade insults than share the covers. Was there something more behind the words you traded? Maybe. Sometimes it felt obvious that he felt the same and other times you were certain that he just saw you as a friend.
If you were just friends, you were friends that lived and worked in very close quarters. You’d had a lot of hands-on moments working the mission with him today. If you had a little more privacy, you’d probably be touching yourself right now thinking about the weight of him on top of you as he tackled you to the ground to protect you, his hair tickling your face as he whispered a new tactical plan into your ear. Instead you were stuck here, close but not close enough. You sighed in frustration.
“Need a bedtime story?” Bucky asked.
“Once upon a time, a former assassin wouldn’t shut up while his teammate tried to sleep.”
“Teammate? That’s all I am to you?” he asked. The hurt and offense in his voice almost sounded real.
“What do you want to be described as?” you asked.
“Just get some sleep, princess.”
You chuckled and rolled over, soon falling asleep. You dreamt of him, of course. Of his hands on you. One warm, one cold. And then it was just his left hand. It was so cold. You let him keep touching you, of course. You didn’t care if you got frostbite. You just wanted him to keep touching you.
You were pissed when you woke up before you could climax. But you quickly realized it wasn’t just cold in your dream. Your teeth were chattering in real life.
“Fuck. It’s freezing,” you said.
“Power’s out,” Bucky said. “Must be the storm.”
“Can we make a fire?”
“I checked. The stove is electric.”
“Are you sure? That thing looks older than you.”
Bucky laughed. “I think I saw a few candles in the cupboard.” He got up and rummaged around in the kitchen. He lit them and placed them around the room.
“Bring one here. Maybe I can warm my hands.”
He laughed as he flopped back onto his side of the bed. “I know it’s cold in here. With the blizzard, there’s no way we’ll make it down the mountain. In the morning, we can—”
“I’m not gonna make it to morning! Feel my fingers!”
Bucky outstretched his right hand toward you, smiling in amusement at what he assumed was exaggeration. When you touched him, his expression changed to one of concern. Maybe things were worse than you thought. Maybe it really was frostbite. Bucky started taking down the pillow barrier.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“You’re right,” he said as he threw pillows over his shoulder and onto the floor.
“Oooh, say that again.”
He laughed. “It’s too cold in here. You need body heat.”
You rolled your eyes but he kept moving pillows. “You’re serious?”
He nodded as he got rid of the last pillow. He awkwardly opened his arms. You scooted closer to him. This wasn’t how you wanted his arms around you, but you were too cold to deny him. He wrapped his big, strong arms around you. You relaxed into his embrace, and not just because of the warmth. He held you tight to him and you would’ve stayed just like forever, but you were still shivering. It felt like the chill had settled into your bones. The extra warmth from Bucky was only making it more obvious just how cold it was in the tiny cabin.
“We need skin to skin,” Bucky said.
You laughed but he didn’t.
“Take your clothes off. Right now,” he said.
Maybe the frigid air was impacting your decision-making, because instead of denying him, you complied. Tried to, anyway. Your fingers were so numb from the cold that you fumbled with the hem of your shirt. He gently nudged your fingers aside and helped you out of your shirt. You’d imagined the first time he took your clothes off a little differently, but you couldn’t care about that now. Once your shirt was off, he took his off too.
He hugged you again then. Your bare skin felt electrified where it touched his. He held your hands to his chest to warm them. With his hardened pecs beneath your fingers, it took all of your willpower not to squeeze.
“Is that better?” he asked.
You nodded. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. You stayed like that for a few minutes, afraid to move. Afraid that at some point he’d decide that you were warm enough. You weren’t warm enough. In any sense. You needed him closer for survival, but it became increasingly difficult to tell if you needed him because you were cold or because you were horny.
“You’re not warm enough,” he said finally. You didn’t argue.
When he pulled away, the sudden loss of warmth made your body tense up. He immediately placed his arms around you again.
“I won’t let go of you anymore, okay?”
You hated how pathetic your voice sounded when you responded, “Okay.”
His arm reached between your bodies to pull his pants down. You told yourself that you weren’t going to look, but your eyes had a mind of their own. You watched his fingers grip his waistband and tug down his boxers and his pants. Suddenly he was naked. Even in the dim lighting, you could see how big he was. His eyes went straight to yours to check in, but he found no objection. You looked away to be polite, but felt too awkward to look into his eyes. You turned around so that your back was to his chest. You were grateful that he couldn’t see your face when he started to pull your pants down. If he was hesitant about this plan, his movements didn’t show it. He was smooth and deliberate, quickly ridding you of your pajamas and underwear. When you were both undressed, he pulled you close. When you felt his cock against your ass, you shivered, and it wasn’t because of the freezing temperatures.
“That’s it,” he said. “Turn over.”
He didn’t wait for you to move, effortlessly pulling you onto your back and laying on top of you. Bucky was naked. You were naked. And he was on top of you. You were short of breath just thinking about it.
“Don’t tell me I’m taking your breath away,” he teased.
“You’re heavy,” you retorted. “I think you may need to start laying off the eggrolls.”
As you laughed together, you became hyper aware of how close your bodies were, of just how much physical contact you had. The laughing stopped abruptly.
“Why didn’t you take off my bra?” you whispered. “Afraid that once you see these you’ll be ruined for all other boobs?”
“Yes,” he nodded as he reached under you, large hands rubbing your back and unhooking the clasp. He slowly slid your straps down your arms. He looked into your eyes as he pulled your bra from between your bodies and threw it onto the floor.
Here you were, caged in his warmth, looking deep into his eyes like in one of your fantasies. And yet your instinct was to make a stupid joke, find some way to make this feel less serious. But you couldn’t think straight with his dick resting on your stomach and his warm breath on your face.
“Better?” he asked.
“Eh. Still a little chilly,” you joked breathlessly.
“I can get you warmer,” he said seriously.
You laughed. “I don’t think we could physically be any closer than we are right now.”
He quirked an eyebrow at you. “Well, technically we could be a little closer.”
“Barnes, if I go outside in the morning and find out that you cut the powerlines…”
“I can’t have you dying of hypothermia on my watch. I don’t have to move or anything. Just to keep you warm.”
You wanted to roll your eyes and hit him on the arm, but his sincerity caught you off guard.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. I’m not a fan of the cold either. I’ve spent too much of my life frozen already. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought…”
“Okay.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded. “And don’t worry, when I tell Nat this story, I won’t even mention the shrinkage.”
He laughed with you and then shook his head at you.
“What am I gonna do with you?” he asked.
“Stick your dick in me, apparently.”
He swallowed nervously. “Are you…? Are you ready?” he asked.
You nodded, hoping he wouldn’t question how wet you were already. You certainly weren’t going to bring up the fact that you had felt his length slowly hardening against you for the last few minutes.
“I, uh, just gotta…” He reached down to pump himself a few times, looking anywhere but you. You wanted to change that.
“You can look at me, Bucky.”
His eyes found yours. You’d never seen this expression on his face before. He was never this easy to read. Even though he’d beaten the Winter Soldier programming, he usually always kept a part of himself closed off. Those defenses were gone now. In their place was yearning. A desire so deep it was overwhelming. The way he looked at you was the same way you felt about him.
You arched your back, drawing attention to your chest. “You can also look here, if it helps.”
He looked at your breasts for the first time. His mouth fell open in awe. You hoped you really were ruining him for other women. You hoped he would never look at anyone else like this for as long as he lived. His eyes went from your chest back to your face as he shifted between your legs. You bit your lip when you felt the head of his cock prod your entrance. It would take everything in your power not to moan. This was probably a very bad idea. But still you let your legs fall open wider to give him easier access.
When he first pushed in, you drew a shaky breath. He stopped moving, eyes anxiously searching yours. He was terrified you’d ask him to stop. Quite the contrary.
“That all you got?” you asked.
He smirked at you before resuming his progress. Despite your earlier joke, you felt your walls stretch around him as he pushed further into you. You felt every single inch, but it was torture not being able to wrap your legs around his hips or claw at his back like you wanted to.
When he was fully seated, he stilled. You took a few deep breaths. It was dizzying, being this close to him, this full of him. It was his turn to tell you, “You can look at me, ya know.”
You looked at him in the flickering candlelight. His hair obscured your view of his face. You reached up and tucked it behind his ear. He nuzzled his face against your hand. Your heart skipped a beat. You could feel his warm cock throbbing inside of you. He was looking at you so romantically that you forgot where you were for a moment. Your body did, too. Your pussy clenched around him. You didn’t get a chance to wonder if he’d felt it. You heard him groan. Right before you felt him thrust.
His eyes darted to you, panicked. You’d seen him panic once before, as he pulled you out of the ice in Finland. That day he’d warmed you up by the fire with plenty of hot drinks and some light teasing. You preferred the current method of warming you up. Which is why you let him hear you. You moaned for him. If you’d been less desperate for him to fuck you, you would’ve been embarassed by how needy you sounded. It was nothing compared to the strangled cry Bucky let out with his second thrust. You expected him to keep moving, but he stopped again. He leaned in, eyes urgent.
“The first time I saw you,” he panted, “I knew you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever—”
Your heart fluttered, but you couldn’t have him saying things he didn’t mean. “You don’t have to flatter me, Buck—”
“It’s not flattery if it’s true. And you are so beautiful.”
You placed your hands behind his head and pulled him in for a kiss. You weren’t sure what it was going to be like, your first kiss with Bucky. Especially since that first kiss was occurring after he was already inside of you. When your lips touched, you both sighed with relief. His lips were soft. You weren’t expecting that. His tongue probed your lips gently, and you gladly gave it access. He kissed you slowly, like he was savoring every second. He cupped your breast with his right hand, softly stroking it. His touches were almost reverent. It would’ve been romantic if you weren’t so needy. There’d be time for slow and steady. You hoped so, anyway. Right now you needed fire. You needed his touch to chase away the cold.
“Are you holding back on me, Barnes? Don’t.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. He bent his head and attached his lips to your neck. He pulled the delicate flesh between his teeth as the hand on your breast eagerly squeezed. His metal hand tightened its grip on your hip. Maybe, if you were lucky, you’d have a bruise in the shape of his handprint tomorrow. Proof that this had actually happened. Proof it wasn’t just the best dream of your life.
Maybe you wanted to mark him, too. Maybe that’s why you tangled your fingers in his hair while you raked the nails of the other hand down his back. He grunted as he drove into you with renewed force, the headboard rattling against the wall.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re so wet. So tight. So perfect. Even better than I—” he stopped himself.
“Better than you imagined?” you suggested.
He nodded.
“You imagine me?” you asked, breathless.
“Every day,” he confessed.
You moved your hips in time with his next stroke, taking him deeper than ever. You both cursed. With each thrust, you knew things would never be the same. With each thrust, you got more and more desperate for him to ruin you. You writhed desperately under him and he only gripped you tighter, forcing you to stay still and accept your pleasure like a good girl. He angled his hips so that he was massaging your g-spot with every thrust. The head of his cock dragged against your center of pleasure over and over again in a relentless pursuit for your climax. You wanted to beg him to fuck you harder and faster but you didn’t want this to end yet. Not until he was as ruined as you were.
You took your hands away from him and brought them to your chest. You gripped your breasts tightly and moaned. He was mesmerized. You pinched your nipples and rolled your hips, putting on a show for him. You needed to know that he would never forget this. That he would never forget you. You tugged on your nipples and cried his name.
“That’s my job,” he said. You smirked at him.
You put your fingers in his open mouth and brought them to your clit and started rubbing slow circles. You watched his eyes darken. He grabbed your hand and brought it to his mouth again, closing his eyes in pleasure as he licked your fingers clean. Instead of putting your hand back where he found it, he brought his metal fingers to your clit instead, taking over your ministrations there. The cold, hard metal rhythmically massaged the sensitive bundle of nerves until his name was the only word in your vocabulary.
You wouldn’t last much longer. You’d see to it that neither would he. You attached your lips to his neck and sucked a bruise into the skin. His fingers on your clit went from slow circles to frantic figure 8s. Your back arched in pleasure as you felt your walls tighten around Bucky’s cock. His hips stuttered as he flooded you with warmth. Your legs shook when you felt him fill you. You whimpered his name. He whispered yours. Before you could even catch your breath, it happened.
You both knew the second the power turned back on. The hum of the fridge, the rattle of the old radiator, the red “Off” light on the coffee pot. It was like a bomb going off in the bubble you’d built. You looked at each other, startled, as if you were just realizing the extent of what you had done. For a split second, you considered pulling away from him and getting dressed, pretending none of this had ever happened. But you didn’t want that, not while his cum was still warm inside you and aftershocks of your orgasm were still rocking your core. You two spoke at the same time.
“It’ll probably take a while before you’re warm eno—”
“The power could go off again at any mo—”
“Sorry—”
“What were you saying—”
You both chuckled self-consciously.
“You love being inside me, don’t you, Barnes?” you teased with no taunting in your voice. You felt his dick twitch. You rolled your hips. “Is that a yes?”
He bit his lip and looked at you with more than lust. It was devotion.
“Yes,” he said finally.
“Good. Because you’re the only one that can keep me warm.”
“What about me?” he asked.
You looked at him, perplexed.
“I get cold, too.”
“What can I warm up for you, Bucky?”
“My ears are kinda cold,” he said.
Oh. Not exactly what you were thinking about warming up, but ok. You reached out to stroke the side of his face. He smiled and blushed, but nuzzled into your hand.
“Your thighs should be pretty warm now…”
Oh. Your thighs could keep his ears warm. You would happily straddle his face in the name of reciprocity. It was the least you could do, right?
The next morning, you woke up wrapped in Bucky’s arms. The heat hadn’t gone out again during the night, but you still felt like you needed Bucky’s warmth.
“I didn’t tamper with the generator,” Bucky said. “But I should have. I should’ve warmed you up like that when you fell into the lake.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Would you have let me?”
You nodded.
“You would have?!”
“I bought the Kirby bonnet for you,” you confessed.
“What?”
“I know how much you like playing Mario Kart with Sam. I thought you’d like it. I thought maybe it’d make you like me.”
He scoffed. “Are you kidding? By that point, I was already in lo—I mean, I, uh. I really do love Mario Kart, you’re right.”
“Nice save.”
“Let me take you out on a proper date.”
“One condition.”
“Anything.”
“Has to be somewhere warm.”
You shared a laugh.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he smirked.
Want to read more of my writing? Check out my ongoing Stucky x Reader series.
2K notes · View notes
huggingkoalas · 1 month
Text
ride me it
pairings natasha romanoff x fem!reader
synopsis riding a motorcycle should be similar to riding her face, right?
word count 1.8k
warnings smut, use of vibrators (using a literal motorcycle), mentions of ‘exhibitionist’ kink, mentions/use of ‘mommy’ kink, pet names, teasing, cursing, established relationship, bottom!reader, top!natasha
author’s note am i going absolutely feral over nat's motorcycle scenes in age of ultron and black widow? yessir :P + this fic is inspired by this tiktok edit of nat too <3
navigation main masterlist | request guidelines | about me
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Will you teach me how to ride, Nat?” You asked, stopping your gentle scratches on her scalp.
Natasha, lying on the bed with her head on your lap, turned her attention from the movie playing on the television to you. Amused, she raised her eyebrows, her infamous smirk on her lips. “Are you talking about my face?”
You slapped her hard on the arm and shook your head in amusement. “I meant the motorcycle, you weirdo.” 
“Ouch, that hurts.” Natasha hissed with a pout on her face. 
Both you and Natasha knew she could handle physical pain since she was literally the Black Widow. Even if she didn’t have superpowers like Thor and the Hulk, she was still one of the most powerful women in the world. Fighting the desire to roll your eyes, you played along with her antics. You rubbed her arm, eyes twinkling in faux pity while mouthing ‘sorry’. 
“I read the mission reports everyone sent from the Ultron Offensive mission. I had no idea you knew how to ride a motorcycle.” You remarked, continuing your featherlight strokes along her hair. You wish you were there that day. If you witnessed Natasha riding a motorcycle, skillfully navigating through traffic and avoiding danger, you’d be drooling right away.
“I guess it just never came up. I wouldn’t mind teaching you, though. It would be hot if you rode something other than my face.” Natasha teased.
“Nat!” Your cheeks turned bright red from her comment. “I-I mean, you’ll have to teach me the basics first, though. I don’t think I’m ready to drive one yet.”
The thought of driving a fast vehicle sent shivers down your spine. Despite feeling scared, you wanted to impress your girlfriend. Maybe if you tried something dangerous, like learning how to ride a motorcycle, she wouldn’t keep calling you a scaredy cat.
“I can teach you the basics now.” She replied, removing her head from your lap and sitting up.
“N-Now? You sure?” You hesitated. “I mean, sure, yeah, okay.”
You didn’t think she’d teach you how to ride a motorcycle now, but you weren’t complaining. Natasha intertwined your fingers with yours, dragging you to the garage quickly. 
You could see the excitement in her eyes as she led you to the garage. The green in her eyes was brighter than usual, and you couldn’t help an endearing smile appearing on your face. Seeing this side of her made your heart melt. Sometimes, she reminded you of a puppy.
Your eyes adjusted to the amount of sunlight flittering through the ceiling-to-floor windows once you reached the garage. It was your first time here, and the spaciousness of the area amazed you. Numerous cars, including SUVs and Humvees, were lined neatly side-by-side. Your gaze immediately spotted the familiar black and red motorcycle you had read in her mission report.
“What’s its model again?” You asked, walking to the motorcycle and running your fingertips along the tank cover before resting your palm on the leather seat.
“It’s a Harley-Davidson LiveWire.” Natasha walked up behind you, resting her hands on your hips. “It’s brand new. The motorcycle from the mission got totalled, so Fury and Stark had to buy me another one.”
“Yeah, I know. I had to deal with financial reports afterwards. It’s... really expensive.” You turned your head to look up at her, leaning up to kiss the tip of her nose. “Only the best motorcycle for the best woman in the world.”
“Enough compliments or I’m bringing you to my room and showing you how much you’re the best woman all night.” Natasha husked, her teeth tugging at your earlobe. Her hot breath whispered in your ear, making you weak to your knees.
She released herself from behind you, her famous smirk on her face as she noticed your flustered state. “Alright, get on the motorcycle.” She said, her voice an octave lower than usual. You looked at Natasha, and she was looking at you with darkened eyes. 
You both knew what that tone meant. It was the tone she would use on you when you were writhing on her sheets, moaning her name over and over again as she brought you to multiple orgasms. Both of you knew what the tone did to you. You’d willingly get on your knees and do anything she asked if she used that sultry voice again.
Clearing your throat to brush your mind off the filthy thoughts your brain had come up with, you inquired. “Won’t it tip over if I get on it?”
Natasha lets out a short laugh as you shoot her a nervous look. There’s a mixture of amusement and something else entirely in her green eyes. You're not sure. She’s making you even more nervous than you already are.
“See that little stick on the side propping up the bike?” With a nod of your head, she points to the black pedal holding the vehicle up. “That’s a kickstand. The bike doesn’t magically defy gravity, and it certainly doesn’t fly.”
You wanted to wipe the smug grin off Natasha’s face. Normally you’d make a snarky remark now, but instead, you let her off with a shrug.
“I promise to catch you if, for some reason, the kickstand doesn’t do its job, detka (baby).” The use of the pet name relaxes you a bit, and you nod your head.
“Fine, I trust you. Is there... A specific way to get on it?” You asked.
“Just mount it, lyubov’ (love). It’s the same as riding on my face.” Natasha replied in a teasing tone. Your head snaps towards her, and your cheeks warm. Her arms are crossed, and her biceps are clearly visible as she wears a black sleeveless sweater. You know you won’t survive the rest of the lesson if she acts (and looks) like this.
You grab the handles and slowly swing one leg over the seat. Your feet barely touch the ground, and you’re tiptoeing while sitting on the vehicle. 
“I think the motorcycle is too tall for me.” You looked at her with a frown.
Natasha expertly climbs onto the bike behind you. “Shortie.” She taunts.
“Careful!” You exclaimed, holding onto the handlebars as the bike tilted left and right due to her movement.
You shift in your seat, getting used to the weird position. The motorcycle seemed larger between your thighs. Furthermore, there were a bunch of pedals, levers, and buttons. You were familiar with what the side mirrors do, but you were not sure what everything else does.
Your heart pounded in your ears. The seat slope caused Natasha's body to press up against you. You shudder slightly as you feel her breasts press up against your back. You tried to make yourself comfortable, but her breath against the back of your neck sent a small shiver down to your core. 
“You’re so tense, detka (baby). Do I make you nervous?” She rests her chin on your shoulder, her hands running down your arms to take your hand in hers while you hold the handlebar.
“You’re sleeping on the couch if you don’t shut up right now, Nat.” You replied, gritting your teeth. As much as you liked her relentless teasing, the heightened adrenaline and fear in your body spiked your anxiousness.
“You’re so cute when you’re angry, lyubov’ (love). Let’s start the lesson then.” Natasha said, turning her attention back to the task at hand. 
She turned the key in the ignition on. The rumbling of the motor startled you as the engine started to thrum softly beneath you.
“I’ll put it on neutral since you’re not driving.” She added.
You nodded your head. You had a license to drive a car, so you knew some driving language. But even though you had experience driving a car, you knew that riding a motorcycle was something completely different. You could feel your heart racing and your grip on the handlebars trembling slightly.
“The lever above the left handle is the clutch lever. The one on the right is the lever for the front brake.” Natasha continued, showing and explaining the parts and their functions.
You couldn't concentrate. The vibration of the engine below you and the slight vibration of the seat had your attention instead. You pursed your lips and nodded as you pretended to understand what she was teaching you.
Closing your eyes for a moment, your breath caught in your throat as Natasha’s lips touch the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “Are you listening to me?” She murmured against your skin.
You pursed your lips and speak shakily. “Y-Yes.”
Natasha smirked as she watched your face, she could clearly see that your mind was somewhere else entirely, exactly where she wanted it to be. “I can make you feel even better...”
“This is the throttle handle that gasses the motor.“ She taps a finger on the right handle. She slowly turns the handle towards you, her wrist applying pressure, and the engine revs louder.
“Shit, Nat-” You gasp out loud, the vibrations beneath you getting stronger the more she turns the handle. You feel even more wetness gathering in your panties.
“Nat,” You whimpered with desperation. “Please, I..I-”
You arch your body against her and throw your head back against her shoulder, enjoying the vibrations from the seat. Natasha almost moans at the sight of you aching for her. She gently pulls your shirt off, throwing it behind her. The cold air sends goosebumps down your arm and her left hand rests on your thigh, squeezing and kneading your clothed thigh.
“Shh... Quiet. You don’t want someone to walk on us like this, do you?” She warns you.
Your lungs are struggling for air as you gasp. Shame and desire course through your veins at the thought of someone catching the both of you in this position. You bite your bottom lip, biting it hard you think it might bleed. 
“Want me to go faster?” She asks in a sultry voice. Without waiting for your response, she twists the handle down quickly, the seat pulsating quickly and louder.
Your torso jolts forward and you can’t stop the moan that leaves the back of your throat. Your panties and pants are sticking to you uncomfortably as the leather seat vibrates harshly against your folds. You’re rutting down onto the seat desperately, aching for release. 
“I-I’m close, Nat, don’t stop, please-” You somehow manage to plead through the haze.
You moan loudly as she revs the engine loudly once more, and you scream ‘mommy’ as you orgasm, stars blinding your eyes as your body shakes with bliss. Your arousal sticks to your thighs and pools onto the leather seat below you as you come down from your high.
Natasha switches off the ignition once you finish tumbling over the edge. The vibration and the sounds from the motorcycle quiet down, and all you can hear is your increased heartbeat and the silence of the garage. You feel your legs and body twitch slightly from the orgasm. 
You turned your head towards her, seeing a shit-eating grin on her face. “Wow, ‘Mommy’, huh? That’s a first.” She teased, licking her lips. “I’ll have so much fun cleaning the bike later.”
You groaned, hiding your face in her neck. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” 
Tumblr media
navigation main masterlist | request guidelines | about me
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
incorrectquotesmcu · 2 months
Text
Natasha: I'm gonna kick your ass.
Y/N: I'd love to see you try.
Natasha: Saturday. Noon. The usual place.
Y/N: You're on. Loser pays for dinner and the movie.
Clint: CAN YOU JUST ASK EACH OTHER OUT NORMALLY??
1K notes · View notes
hansensgirl · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
summary. | Your father’s friend just wants you to relax for once.
prompts. | Natasha Romanoff + Dad’s Best Friend + “You have no idea what you do to a woman like me.” + Creampie, requested by Anonymous.
pairing. | dark!dad’s best friend!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader.
warnings. | NON/DUBCON, coercion, age gap, dad’s best friend, Mommy kink, drinking/forced drinking, rough sex, strapping, use of squirting strap, pet names, dirty talk, mild dumbification, praise, mentions of female oral, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!
author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Natasha’s strap-on strokes your inner walls, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot within you. She holds your arms above your head by your wrists, and you marvel at her strength. 
Your tits bounce with her powerful thrusts, pathetic moans leaving your parted lips and filling the room. Your pornographic noises drown out the sound of skin on skin, but you’re still a victim of the older woman’s filthy words.
“Look at ya—you’re a mess, baby,” Natasha coos, admiring the fucked-out look on your face. She watches as your eyes roll back into your head when she grinds her cock into you, giving your clit some friction. “You needed this badly, huh? Just needed Mommy to fuck you.”
Absentmindedly, you nod your head. 
But it’s true—you’re always so on edge and straitlaced. Natasha—your father’s friend—believed you needed a good fucking to loosen you up. Along with much alcohol, which she gladly supplied you with until you were incoherent.
“Uh-huh!” you babble, keeping your legs spread so that she can better spear into you. Your head swims under the waves of wine and arousal, desire bubbling to the surface with the euphoria that bursts in your body. She loves you like this.
Natasha chuckles at how she has basically fucked you stupid.
It didn’t take much to get you like this—writhing on the bed in the guest room she always occupies whenever she’s in town. Just some heavy petting, and you were gone—pliant under the older woman’s touch. At times, you mumbled refusals, but once she got your clothes off, you were everything she has dreamed of.
Natasha reaches a thumb down to your clit, and she rubs the swollen pearl, making you cry out. “Oh– ’M gonna come,” you mewl, staring up at her as you focus on the ascension of your climax. 
The pressure within you builds and builds, intense and breath-taking. Your moans are loud, and Natasha is glad she made sure no one would be home. She thrusts in and out of you with vigour, determined to get you to come around her dick.
“You gonna come on Mommy’s cock, baby? Hm? Gonna soak it like a good girl?” she asks, adding fuel to the fire that is your orgasm. You nod rapidly, and she smirks. “Go ahead, then. Come for Mommy,” Natasha tells you.
On her command, you come undone. Your cunt squeezes your father’s friend’s strap as you coat it in your cream. You cry out her name and dig your nails into your skin, leaving crescent-shaped scars in their wake.
The pleasure is too much—you haven’t felt anything like this before. Natasha fucks you through your climax, even when you become overstimulated and weakly beg her to give you a break. She keeps rubbing your clit until she deems you’ve had enough.
The older woman reaches down to her strap and grabs at the fake balls, ready to give you a surprise you’ll have to remember the following day. 
“Mommy’s gonna fill you up, baby,” she whispers, slowing down the movements of her hips. Your brows furrow in confusion, but in your haze, you don’t question her words too much. All you can think about is getting fucked. “Gonna dump a load in this tight cunt—fill ‘er up ‘til you’re begging me for more.”
Natasha squeezes, and you feel thick, sticky liquid spurting inside you. It coats your walls, and the odd sensation is welcomed. Just as she said, she fills you up with the ‘cum’ until it leaks past her fake cock, dripping down your ass and onto the sheets. 
“You have no idea what you do to a woman like me,” she smirks, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your lips. She is more than satisfied when she tastes herself and the wine on your mouth.
964 notes · View notes
blackkwidowed · 2 months
Note
Imagine kissing Nats bruises and scars after a mission and just being soft and showing her so much love.
I just wanna give Nat a hug tbh
just the entire concept of nat finding it so hard to be vulnerable around anyone but you is both heartbreaking yet the softest most adorable shit ever. here's a little drabble. some darker themes here as well i guess. also, best friend bucky? you got a taste of that here as well. also haven't proofread so sorry
When the few team mates arrive back off a mission, there's a dark, almost sad, atmosphere among them. Natasha, Bucky, and Clint had gone together for a few days to track something down. They'd come back early, empty handed, bruised, beaten down and overall, unsuccessful.
Natasha had looked the most upset. She hadn't been crying or anything, she just looked glum. She looked like she'd seen something no one wants to see.
Immediately you say your hellos to everyone, glad that they made it back safely and in once piece- albeit a few bruises and minor injuries. Something had happened out there.
You pull Natasha into your arms and there's something about the way she relaxes and sinks against you that makes your concern skyrocket. Fingers running through her hair, you cup the base of her skull in your hand and bring the other to her cheek for her to look at you. "What happened, my love?"
She sighs, the kind of sigh that speaks for itself.
"We found a group of kids. They'd all been locked up by these asshole guys we were trying to find. They'd been brainwashed. Beaten. Taken from their families and forced into whatever the hell kind of project that's been lined up for them."
You flinch, closing your eyes and repeating Natasha's sigh from before. You understand now.
"Got jumped by some security who've had training from God knows where. Good enough to get some hits in, put it that way." She cranes her neck a little, moves her hair out the way, enough to show the budding purple mark under her ear that's making it way across her jaw. "Powerful bunch, these guys. We're gonna need some more planning before we go back in there."
You nod in agreement, tracing your finger gently across the mark and pressing a soft, barely there kiss to the skin.
"Are you okay?" It comes as a whisper, gentle and only just loud enough for her to hear it. "I mean, I know you're not okay as such just. What do you need?"
She smiles gently at you, pushing herself closer to you again and resting her nose in the crook of your neck. "This is good."
You press a kiss to the side of her head, looking up at the guys who're now sat at the breakfast bar of the kitchen, also looking on like they've seen a ghost. You can't help but feel sorry for whatever they've seen, it takes a lot to have them left feeling like this.
You send Nat to your room, telling her you'll be up there in a moment and to get changed out of her suit. Quickly, you make your way over to the boys and rest a hand on each of their shoulders. "You need anything you know where I am, alright?"
They thank you thoroughly, Bucky even slinging an arm around your waist and squeezing lightly as a thank you. "Take care of her, yeah? I think, maybe, she's reminded of everything she went through. It's hit her, this one. Just take care of her."
Bucky's smile is laced with pain, heartache. You don't see him like this often either. You nod at him. "Of course."
-
What you find in your room is enough to make you angry. Nat's got a fair few bruises, and it makes you want to track down the bastard(s) that managed to leave such a mark on her soul.
She's sat on the end of the bed, glancing over the hand shaped mark on her arm where she'd been grabbed and thrown just hours earlier. She's not even mad that she let her guard down. Normally she'd be upset with herself, but she can't think about it.
You perch at the head of the bed against the pillows, beckoning her over in a gentle tone. She settles into your side and curls an arm around you tightly, as if she's frightened you'll leave. It only makes you grip her tighter.
Peppering gentle kisses to the side of her face, she sighs in relief and sinks somehow deeper into you, nuzzling into your neck. You're warm, familiar, comforting, you're everything she needs in a time of need.
"Thank you," she whispers against your skin.
"For what, baby?"
"Being here when I need you."
You smile softly, raising a hand to her face and brushing your fingers across her cheek. You kiss her softly, slowly, so gentle she has to pull you even closer so you'll kiss her firmer. Your lips move against hers and it might just be the highlight of Natasha's day, feeling you like this.
"You don't ever have to thank me. You know that's what I'm here for." You continue stroking her cheek, down her neck, and back up. Touches like this are her favourite. It warms her heart when she remembers the bruise on the side of her face, and the fact that your touch is so gentle against her skin that the contact with the bruise doesn't bother her even a little bit. "I love you."
Natasha hums softly, moving to lay on top of you now. She kisses you again, whispering against your mouth. "I love you."
You hold her close, hands running across her hips, fingers trailing up her back. She lays on you, nuzzled in and as close as possible. You don't ever want either of you to move, this is where you're content. This is your happy place.
She's relaxed now, happier, and you know today's at the back of her mind still but for a moment, she can forget about it. She feels safe now, comforted. You're her happy place, her everything, her lifeline. To her, you make it worth it.
"Get some sleep for me okay?" You murmur into her hair.
You feel her nod against where she lays on your chest. "Only if i can stay here."
You give a soft laugh, rubbing a hand up her back and tangling into red hair. "Always."
810 notes · View notes
gfmaximoff · 6 months
Text
Yelena: It’s really frustrating.
Kate: What is it?
Yelena: Watching Y/N openly flirt with Wanda and Wanda not realizing it.
Kate, wearing a "Date Me Yelena Pls" shirt: Haha yeah, she's so oblivious.
1K notes · View notes
wandas6-gf · 1 year
Text
Y/N: Can I have a piece of cake from the fridge?
Yelena: What’s the rule?
Y/N, sighing: No cake after dinner.
Yelena: No, that’s Nat’s rule. My rule is that you need to bring me a slice as well.
5K notes · View notes
cobaltperun · 5 months
Text
Happy black widow
Nat: *eating her sandwich that "mysteriously" appeared on her table*
-other side of the room-
Clint: Really? Another sandwich?
Y/N: *looking away and whispering* Well-fed black widow is a happy black widow and I have intentions with the Black Widow...
Clint: Yeah? And what are those intentions?
Y/N: *still whispering* She looks so happy and cute when she eats them.
Clint: Adorable.
Yelena: Just ask her out already!
Clint: *patting Yelena on the back* They'll get there. Eventually.
*Later*
Y/N: *drinking favorite beverage* Whoever brought this is my second favorite person.
Yelena: The first is Natasha?
Y/N: Yup.
-other side of the room-
Nat: *smiling proudly*
Clint: Maybe it would be more effective if you weren't sneaky about it?
Nat: We'll get there.
Somehow has a part 2 now.
2K notes · View notes
havensins · 9 months
Note
Sub Hobie Brown x Dom reader
one we’re fucking hobie dumb and his eyes roll in the back of his head with his tongue out coming so hard
hobie would normally be so full of smart remarks or quips, so it would be fun to see how you could tease or fuck him until he had no coherent thought left in his pretty little head.
the way i picture it, hobie would be on his back with you between his thighs and fucking him within an inch of his life. his legs would be crossed behind your back, clasping at the ankle and forcing you to get impossibly deeper. one arm would be draped over your shoulder while the other would be gripping the sheets.
“y-you’re- oh, oh! fuck! pleasepleaseplease!” he’d sob, breathing harshly as his cock wept pitifully on his stomach. his brain would turn into fuckin’ mush bc he’s so sensitive and you’re so deep.
2K notes · View notes
romanoffshouse · 7 months
Text
Y/N: Date of birth?
Natasha: December 3rd, 1984.
Y/N: Age?
Natasha: Can't you figure that out based on my date of birth?
Y/N: ....I'm a superhero, Natasha, not a mathematician.
4K notes · View notes
waltermis · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
I would kill for a hug from Natasha 🥺
2K notes · View notes
rxmqnova · 2 months
Text
*at the mall*
Wanda: Hey, have any of you guys seen Y/N? She's been gone for a while..
Kate: Eh, nope.
Natasha: No, I haven't...
Yelena: Probably ran off to McDonald's or something.
Y/N: Hey.
Wanda: Ooh, there you are-
Kate: What the fu-
Yelena: I- where were you?!
Y/N: Walking right behind you guys.
1K notes · View notes
esmerxyaugusta · 2 months
Text
y/n: *lying on the floor*
nat: *walks by*
nat: what are you doing?
y/n: im wounded *pretends to die*
nat: what hurt you?
y/n: im wounded by love *coming back from the dead then dies again*
629 notes · View notes
incorrectquotesmcu · 2 months
Text
Natasha: I swear, sometimes I feel like I’m married to a child.
Y/N: You better watch who you’re calling a child, Natasha. Because if I’m a child then you know what that makes you? A pedophile. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to stand here and be lectured by a pervert.
2K notes · View notes