Did I Step On Your Moment?

You shift to the side, Wanda’s hand slides down over your pants, palm gently cupping your mainly soft bulge, and trailing her nails around it. Your eyes lock onto her traveling hand with a quickening breath and a growing blush. “Wanda, you don’t have to-” you say, eyes not leaving her teasing hand. She huffs softly, and you don’t have to look up to know exactly what kind of smile she bears on her face, “Oh but I want to,” the woman drawls. 

“Quite the anomaly you are, hm? Not often you find someone quite like this,” she pauses, “In fact, I’ve never seen somebody like you before. Not that I got much exposure to different kinds of people in Hydra.” As she speaks, her hand runs up your tight stomach and drags her nails down to your slowly growing bulge. You groan helplessly, not wanting to be desperate and rub into her hand, embarrassing yourself in front of you. 

The brunette hums, shifting to rest her head on her hand, laying on her side, mirroring your desperate form. “I think it’s about time I get to have my way with you, wouldn’t you agree, detka?” 

You breathe out heavily, gulping and nodding in response to her question, too entranced by her shifting hand to peel your eyes away. Wanda gets on her hands and knees, crawling over your body and using her hands to start pulling off your pants. She smiles cheekily, seeming as if she wants to say something to you but doesn’t, when you lift your hips to assist her. Once your pants are fully off, Wanda finally lets her gaze travel over your very well fitted boxers and the straining bulge concealed by the fabric. She coos softly, taking a breath before slowly reaching a hand out. When her hand makes contact with your member through the thin fabric, your eyes flutter shut momentarily as you shiver intensely. 

Wanda coos again, fingers trailing along the length. Ideas of what she could do to you run through your mind while she gently touches you, now pushing you to breathe heavier and at full mast in her hands.

“W-wanda,” you whisper with a stutter, scared to speak too loudly and break the moment or startle the woman off. She hums again, not fully a response to you, but more of an acknowledgment that you said something at all. Somehow, her disregard only turns you on more.

She shifts again, now crawling upward and straddling your hips with her bare pussy pressed against your clothed member. Your hips buck into her unintentionally as you gasp in shock. Wanda bites her bottom lip with a smile, subtly starting to shift her hips and enjoying your heaving breaths and groans as she gets bolder and bolder. Before long, she’s outright humping you and moaning deliciously whenever her clit is rubbed in the right way. Meanwhile, you softly hold her thighs with mildly trembling hands and moan at her cunt rubbing over your length. “Wanda-” you moan her name, earning a moan from her in response as her clit is rubbed again. You’re so tempted to grab her hips and rub her faster and harder until you cum, or rip your boxers off and push her ankles over your shoulders while you pound into her, ultimately cumming inside of her. Instead, you train your hands to hold her thighs gently and let her go at her own pace. “I can hear your thoughts, you know,” she says with her heavy accent, causing you to groan at the somehow obscene sound- despite it just being her voice. She chuckles softly, “And I can feel your hands shaking-” one of her hands runs its nails down your stomach again, plucking at the waistband of your boxers. “-And how badly you want me.” 

She characterizes her last words by a harsher roll of her hips that makes your breath hitch and a whiny moan come tumbling out. “Oh Wanda,” you start before finishing the thought, “Please.”

Her eyes widen at the pleading sound of your voice, hips faltering and muscles tensing. For a second, you worry that somehow you’ve scared her and she’ll go running to someone in the compound screaming about how much of a freak you are with your weird body. The thought leaves your mind just as quickly as it had entered because soon she has recovered and takes action. Wanda pulls you up to a leaned back position where you brace yourself on your elbows, and she kisses you hard and passionately. Quickly, Wanda starts rutting her hips against you as she moans into the kiss and you find it hard not to completely swoon for her in the moment. Your tongue pushes into her mouth gently as one of your hands grabs her hips and moves along with her. 

The woman nods gently as you assist her, and she groans throatily at the feeling of your hard length rubbing against her while you do your best to shift your hips to aid in her pleasure. Both of your moans and groans mix together in a pleasurable symphony, Wanda’s face is contorted beauty. She bites her bottom lip every now and then, only released when she opens her mouth in an elongated ‘O’ shape while she gasps in pleasure. Her eyebrows are furrowed and she looks down at you passionately, occasionally getting so overwhelmed in the moment and kissing you sloppily. You don’t even have to think about what you must look like to know that you must be a hot mess at this point. 

Something eager shoots from your pounding heart, pooling into your stomach and moving like lightening, shooting straight down into your covered region being graced by Wanda’s moving hips and you know what the feeling means. Before you can think about your actions, you grab her hips a little harder and make her grind down on your cock. Shoving your face in her neck, you mark her more and more, trying to hide the smile of knowing what’s to come. Though all too soon, you can tell she’s starting to get exhausted when you’re so close and you grab her waist. Wanda yelps as you flip her back onto the bed and shove your hips fully into hers. She breathes heavy, blushing face looking at you confusedly while you press against her, panting like a dog. 

“Wanda,” you say, voice deep and raspy from over use. What you say is breathy and you swear you can feel Wanda get even more turned on the more you talk. “Can I use you,” you say, looking at her pathetically, waiting for her permission to get yourself off on her like this. Softly, she nods in shock and you immediately start back up. Her legs go over your shoulders and your sweaty, muscular body begins moving to grind yourself against her bare core. 

Your hands land beside her head, you staring straight down at her as you get closer and closer to where you want to be. “Fuck,” she whispers to herself as she eyes you. Your tense abs, tight boxers smeared in her arousal, strong arms pinning her where she is, face contorted in bliss, and your begging, needy expression. Just the idea of you asking her permission to use her like this was enough to hook her on you, and seeing how submissive you truly are only turns her on more. 

Quickly, your grunts and groans are turning into heavy breaths and small whines scattered throughout the music you’re creating for her. A shiver crawls up your back and you look away from her as a wave crashes heavily over you- your hips jerking and stalling. Swift on her feet, Wanda reaches for your face and brings you to look at her so she can watch you actively falling apart while she gently shifts her hips for you. 

You pant wildly, eyes lidded and wandering all over her body, unsure where to remain. Wanda eyes you intensely as you catch your breath, and her hands pet your face softly. She smiles when you lean in, truly like the puppy she thought you would be. Head empty and focused completely on her and only her just like she’s wanted you to be since you first met. 

“Come on baby, lay back down for me,” she whispers and you immediately follow the gentle command. She hopes to collar you one day if you’re into it.

Wanda slowly gets over you again, only to shuffle back a bit backwards on the bed and moves to take your boxers off with hungry eyes. Your eyes widen and a hand shoots out to stop her with a flash of fear on your red face. “Wanda, I know you already know but it’s different to actually see it,” you say with a shaking voice and a rapidly beating heart. Fear finds home in your stomach, effectively halting the moment as you voice so. “Are you sure?” 

She sighs softly, looking you in the eye with a soft look on her face, almost as if she completely understood what you were feeling. Though she probably did, considering her powers.

With a small smile, she releases the waistband and strokes your thigh comfortably. “If you don’t want to do this, then we won’t do it, but just know that I don’t think that something is wrong with you or that your body is wrong. You could never scare me off, and especially not because you’re a little different than other people,” she pauses, before continuing intensely. “I want this,” she states. “I want you.” 

A shaky sigh draws out of you, as if releasing all of the fear that had built up in your stomach, and you look at her with only a small amount of concern left in your body. 

After a second you nod. “I want this- I want you. And I want you to see all of me. I want to know that you can look at me- all of me, and see something you like Wanda,” you nod again, “you can continue and I’ll be good for you.” 

With the consent to continue, Wanda smiles softly before setting her hands back on the waistband and pulling your boxers down. Inch by inch, the fabric is pulled off, and you look away when you realize that your member is about to be seen by Wanda. With a blush, you feel your boxers being pulled down your thighs, and suddenly it stops. 

Wanda’s breath hitches and you wait for the woman to say something, but when she doesn’t, you anxiously look at her face again. What you expect to see is disgust or regret. What greets you instead is lidded eyes, blown pupils, and a hungry gaze deadset on your throbbing cock. Swiftly, your boxers are pulled completely off and Wanda sets up in front of you while you lay back, propped up on your elbows. Her sultry eyes flicker to yours before returning to their target. 

“May I touch you,” she whispers. 

You gulp and reassure her, but what shocks you is that the brunette leans down and kisses the shaft softly while one of her hands wraps around the base. “Oh,” you moan in surprise and her eyes watch yours again. She watches you intensely as she kisses more and more until eventually, her tongue licks a long stripe from the base to the start of the tip. She ignores the tip completely as she takes her time with you and you groan at the pleasure. 

“What do I do with you first,” she whispers to herself with a small smile on her lips. Your heart jumps at the sight of her. The fact that you’re being seen, and not only being perceived as beautiful, but still sexy enough to continue intercourse. 

Languidly, she gently strokes your cock as she continues thinking, and a muffled groan escapes your lips, catching her attention. Sharp eyes light up in recognition and she smiles that perfect, toothy smile at you that tells you she’s realized something. She looks at you looking at her and moves her hand a little more firmly. Your head lolls back as you sigh dreamily at the feeling, and she squeezes lightly, prompting you to yelp and look back at her with your lip tucked between your teeth. 

“Do you like it when I use you like this? Gently touching you while I’m doing my own thing?” She asks softly, already knowing the answer and simply wanting you to say it out loud. 

You roll your eyes with a small upturn of your lips, facade quickly falling and a moan escaping you as she strokes you again, this time letting her thumb gently touch your tip. “Yes Wanda, yes I do,” you say breathily, accompanied by a small whine.

You’re a pathetic, blushing mess in her slender hands. 

She hums in acknowledgement, “Then I bet you wouldn’t mind this, hm?” Wanda leans down to your member, gently kissing and sucking the sides of it while her thumb lightly plays with your swollen tip. Loudly you moan, fighting to keep your eyes open just to see how beautiful she is when she touches you like this. Quickly though, she gives up on teasing you, and moves to slowly take your entire cock in her mouth. You fight the urge to buck your hips as her warm, velvety mouth envelopes you slowly, watching as she hollows out her cheeks and takes you eagerly. Tears spring to your eyes at the feeling of it, the feeling of finally getting to be with Wanda, who you’d yearned for so desperately. Her head now bobs up and down slowly, sucking you and staring at you through her lashes while you gently caress her head. You lightly grab her hair as your hips jolt when her tongue swipes eagerly over your tip to taste your ever prominent pre cum. You grumble sweet praises her way as your head leans back and your eyes softly flutter shut finally.

Passionately, the brunette continues sucking your member, as her hand strokes whatever she can’t fit in her mouth and your climax approaches sooner than you can process. With a whimper, and a muffle of your mouth, you squirm and start trying to pull her off. “Wanda- Wanda I’m,” groans and heavy breaths continue to interrupt your stuttering and the woman continues her motions. 

Before you, Natasha Romanoff’s mornings were usually going on by routine. The Russian was already up before dawn, swallowing down a glass of water then going for a ten miles run. At her return, she'd shred a heavy bag in the compound gym, shower, and drink her black coffee in silence. She was a creature of early dawn and quiet efficiency.

Then, she fell in love with you.

And suddenly, the fearsome Black Widow discovered a brand-new, highly formidable weakness: the warmth of your arms.

. . . . . .

The digital clock on the nightstand glowed a soft seven forty-two am. The sun was already filtering through the gaps in the blinds — casting lazy, golden stripes across the duvet.

You shifted, gently trying to untangle your legs from the heavy warmth of the sheets, intending to slip out of bed and put the kettle on. But the moment your hips moved more than two inches away, the iron-clad grip around your waist tightened.

A protesting, sleep-heavy groan rumbled against the bare skin of your shoulder blade.

“Where are you going?” Natasha’s voice was a low, raspy purr thick with sleep and heavily laced with her slight Russian accent that only came out in moments like these—a side of her she only let guard down for you.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” you whispered, turning your head to smile at her. “I was going to make coffee. And maybe get a head start on the day.”

Instead of letting you go, she buried her face deeper into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. The redhead's nose was cold against your skin, making you shiver, but her body was like a furnace pressed against your back. She threw a shapely leg over yours, completely pinning you to the mattress.

“No,” she mumbled, her lips brushing your collarbone as she spoke. “Five more minutes.”

You let out a soft laugh, reaching up to run your fingers through her tangled red hair. “Nat, It’s almost eight.”

“Then I need ten more minutes.”

“That's not how bargaining works, Romanoff.”

“I am a master negotiator, I dictate the terms,” she murmured, tightening her arms around you until there was absolutely no space left between you. She was incredibly clingy in the mornings, a sweet, needy contrast to her sharp daytime persona.

She liked to be wrapped around you like ivy, anchoring herself to your warmth.

“What happened to the woman who used to be up and about by dawn?” you teased gently, tracing the line of her jaw. “The one who told me sleeping past six was a waste of valuable training hours?”

Natasha opened one eye, looking up at you through a fan of thick eyelashes. A lazy, incredibly fond smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

“She realized that training doesn't hug back,” she replied softly.

“And your morning run?”

“I rescheduled,” she shrugged, kissing the sensitive spot just beneath your ear, making you gasp softly. “I do night runs now. The pavement is cooler, the compound is empty, and...” She paused, trailing her fingers lightly down your arm, interlocking her fingers with yours. “..it means I don't have to miss a single second of this.”

Your heart melted a little.

It was still hard to grasp sometimes—how a woman who had spent her entire life running, fighting, and surviving now fought so hard just to stay still with you. The fact that she had completely restructured her rigid, lifelong routine just to hold you in the quiet hours of the morning was a testament to how deeply she loved you.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes,” she whispered, leaning in to press a soft, slow, lingering kiss to your lips. When she pulled back, she rested her forehead against yours, her breath warm on your skin. “I am a hostage to this bed. You'll have to stay and keep me company.”

“Well, if it's a hostage situation, I suppose I have no choice,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her close.

The Russian let out a contented sigh, burying her face back into your chest, her hand gently tracing soothing circles on your lower back. Within seconds, her breathing evened out into a calm, steady rhythm.

The coffee could wait. The world could wait.