a

request status: open

blog rules: do not repost my work and claim it as yours. if you want to repost any of my writings, please ask for my permission and give me credit.

writings

⤷ marvel masterlist || hollywood masterlist || prompt list

⤷ smutty sundays request page

𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

please read this for more information about my writing/my boundaries as a writer. read this too if you're going to request!

— who i write for

• natasha romanoff (i'm not taking any fic requests with natasha as reader's mother, or with natasha being pregnant) | wanda maximoff | peggy carter, pepper potts, maria hill (i mostly will be writing blurbs, or soft/angsty fics for them. nothing long. i just don't feel motivated enough to write for them) | yelena belova, kate bishop, peter parker (i will not be taking any smut requests for them. or anything that would portray them as dark/toxic)

• scarlett johansson (i will not be writing smut for scarlett. i will not be including or mentioning any of her kids in any of my fics, and i will not be portraying her husbands in any way negative) | elizabeth olsen (no smut for elizabeth either. and no mentions of her husband) — these are boundaries i've set, not just because of me, but because i want to respect both scarlett and lizzie (+ they're family) as they are real people who have gone through enough being sexualized and made uncomfortable by the internet. i don't want to add onto that

— what i do not write

• incest (or anything that involves relationships between blood related family members) | adult x minor relationships

• mdlg relationships, non-consensual sex, bdsm relationships (or any relationship where one tortures the other for the sake of getting off especially if it's non-consensual)

• kidnapping, relationships formed by trauma (orchestrated by a participant in the relationship for the sole purpose of getting the other person), abusive relationships

• girl characters with penis, vampire/ghosts characters,

navigation || marvel masterlist || hollywood masterlist

based on this request

pairing: natasha romanoff x female reader

warning: minors dni (it's not like i can stop you. but keep in mind that you're responsible for your own media consumption so do be responsible), smut, roles; darkdom!natasha (professor natasha) & sub!reader (college student reader), semi-public sex, curse words, exhibitionism, knife play (blood and wounds), gun play, kinks; mommy kink | degradation kink | choking kink, large age gap; natasha is 38, reader is 22

summary: you see natasha everyday. she's your professor after all. and every day since your breakup, she continues to act as if you don't exist. the least she can do is treat you like a student, but she can't even do that. you've had enough. she's not welcome to break your heart every day the way that she does. ignoring your very existence as if you weren't once the bane of hers. so the only logical thing to do? sleep with her fellow professor.

a/n: this is a part of my smutty sundays 😩🫦

two years ago, you made a pair of shoes. you had peter and aunt may help you. it was black, it was glossy. and you made sure that it was comfortable. you spent more time on it than your patience allowed, but even years later, you're glad it's still in perfect condition. 

you see it, every single day. you hear it click against the marble tiled flooring of the right wing of your building where the libraries, the faculty, the offices are located, every day, at 9:15 am without fail. 

you memorized it. you memorized the sound, which alone had already made you clutch your books slightly tighter against your chest. you waited for the figure to turn the corner, you waited to meet its eyes. you waited to follow it as it walked down the hall.

and then, there she was. 

the red head wearing a dark blue blazer and matching trousers with a red silk top underneath. her hair was perfectly resting on top of her shoulder, big curls and all, so neatly falling over the crook of her neck as if it was deliberately arranged and placed with a massive amount of hairspray. 

mrs. natasha romanoff. 

this was always your favorite time of the day. the time when you see her walk into her office. when you see her the very moment she comes into school. when you get to see how she's dressed, when you get to get a scent of her to take with you for the rest of the day, when you get to see how perfectly in shape the shoes you made for her is. the shoes she'd always worn for the past 2 years. 

you looked at her eyes, the bright green ones you'd dream about looking at you. she walked closer, and closer, and slowly you got to see the small features on her face that, although you have memorized, you still liked staring at. 

by the time you could clearly see the mole on her right cheek, you dreaded it. you often forget how much you hated standing there, waiting for her to turn the corner and walk the hall. you get so hypnotized by her, that you forget the wretched feeling you have whenever she walks past you. whenever you feel that small breeze that's her always so close to hitting your figure as if you weren't there. you hated that she never lays her eyes on you, she never acknowledges you, she never even do so much as breath towards you as if you two had never met. 

you dreaded it. you hated it so fucking much. it makes you clench your fist in rage, and then it makes you tear up, and then it makes you hate yourself. and you are just so tired of that. 

"mrs. romanoff," you called, standing completely still.

you felt her stop just a few inches away from you. she hadn't moved. she hadn't turned around. she just stopped, and waited for you. 

but you didn't say anything. 

you weren't sure why you called onto her. in your head, you wanted to scream at her. to tell her to look at you. to tell her to stop ignoring you. to tell her that she already got what she wanted, that you already broke up with her in front of her wife and the least she can do is look at you.

but you didn't say that. 

she turns her head, just enough for her to look at her shoulder in acknowledgment of you. it was the most she's given you in 2 years, and you can't do anything about it.

"have a nice day..." 

she didn't say anything. you knew her enough to know the way her eyebrows tightened by the tiniest bit in confusion. that's it? she's probably thinking. and honestly, you're thinking the same thing. 

that's it? that's all i can fucking tell her?

she only did so much as hum, leaving a second before she left. you were frozen in your place until you heard the door to her office, near the end of the hall, close. 

you hated what she does to you. you hated how she'd ignore your very existence. how she walks past you as if she hadn't touched you in the dark hallways of your school. how she'd look past you as if she hadn't seen every inch of your skin. how she'd avoid calling your name in class, how she'd avoid going to places where she knows you've been, how she'd completely disregard you as if you weren't someone she had once confessed to be so utterly and hopelessly in love with.

you hated how she has the nerve to do that. she was the one who initiated your relationship. she was the one who seduced you into an affair. she was the one who made you so unconditionally in love with her. she was the one who asked you to break up with her. to stop seeing her after her wife came to you, and asked you to leave her alone. 

she was the one who hurt you. 

everything that this was is all on her.

and she shouldn't have the nerve to act as if you did something wrong. 

the only thing you've done, the one wrong thing that haunts you to this day, was loving her. 

and she shouldn't have the right to hold that against you. not when she was the one who made you fall so madly in love with her in the first place. 

"y/n, are you okay?"

you didn't realize you had just finished your last class of the day. you didn't realize you had been stuck in the moment of hurt (which was an everyday thing, at this point) because of natasha. peter was snapping his fingers in front of you, trying to break you out of your thoughts.

the classroom was empty, and it was only you and peter. he was standing in front of your desk, holding your bag as if ready to basically drag you out of there if you hadn't come to your senses. "aunt may is going to kill me. i promised to take you to lunch with her." 

you blinked a few times, standing up to gather your things but something lit up inside your little brain when you see a figure standing beside the podium that peter's been covering from your line of sight. 

it was natasha. 

she was standing, so incredibly still, her eyes staring straight into you, following you and every little move you make. you weren't sitting so far from the front, perhaps just a row or two behind. so it didn't come unnoticed to you, the way her finger slowly tapped her elbow while it's crossed. the way her eyes are barely closing, or the way her head was tilted just by the smallest, almost unnoticeable bit. 

she was annoyed. 

mrs. romanoff was never one to stay after class hours. she's punctual, even with leaving, and you know how it aggravates her to have to stay after the time she should've already left. 

and while, she hates it, she has to stay until every last student is out of her classroom. and since you're here, and it seems like you've been here for a while, you can see how that may have annoyed her.

so in courtesy, you met her eyes, "mrs. romanoff", you greeted, almost bowing to her before grabbing all your things and pulling peter out of the classroom. 

"miss y/l/n," she called when you were just by the door. stopping you in your steps. she wasn't looking at you anymore, her eyes remained to where you once were. there was a dramatic pause, and until she was sure that your complete attention was on her, her head slowly turned to look at you. "i will be handing you a letter informing you of your new class schedule with mr. rogers. please see me in my office when you have the time."

it took you a few seconds before you picked up on what she meant, "what?" it was rather informal the way you said it, she was always so strict with formality, but you didn't really care. she hardly notices your existence all-together, she won't penalize you for that. 

"i'll be transferring you to mr. roger's class out of the best interest, for you." she says, turning around to gather her things and get ready to leave. "you can get your timetable in my office or you can get it here at 3." she says. "rest assured, miss y/l/n..." she looks at you. she can't see you. she can't see you the way she used to. she can't see you at all. and that alone, the thought, the knowledge, and most especially, the way you could no longer let you read her eyes, the way she'd completely shut you off, broke your heart in more pieces than when she told you about her wife. "you will be seeing a lot less of me."

she was a complete stranger.

you knew what she meant. you knew the message she wanted to send, she made it very clear but you know she felt the need to save it for the sake of peter and keeping a professional relationship between you two. 

you could feel your hand shaking. if the moment lasts a minute longer, your chin would tremble. your eyes will uncontrollably water. you are bound to break down. you can feel it. but you won't ever--you refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing how broken you are because of her. she will never see how much she hurts you. 

"and i'll be seeing more of steven..." you smiled. "good." you say before turning away with peter following you. 

she has the power. she has the power over you, over everything. but you like to play. you like to play queen and pretend you have the power over her. you like to play against the odds. you like to play against her. you like to play pretend and act fine when, really, you're not. 

transferring you to mr. roger’s class was her breaking up whatever's left lingering between you. it was cutting you off. it was completely taking you out of her life. and you aren't going to leave just like that. not without rubbing it in her face that you've moved on. 

so at exactly 2:55pm, you'd already settled down on her desk, your arms holding the back end of the table as you leaned back, your head hanging back with your locks tickling your elbows as you pulled steven grant rogers closer between your legs. 

you would’ve done it with someone else, but frankly, no man ever dare come close to you. everyone who had, ghosted you. perhaps, they can sense the gayness, but you were bi, the “liking woman” aspect of your personality probably over powers the “liking men” aspect by tons. 

so here you are with mr. rogers. you could feel him. you could feel his bulge. does it turn you on? it does. do you want to fuck him? you do. but would you? no. to let him touch you should be heaven enough for him. 

if there's one thing natasha taught you, it's that you were a goddess. every person to have ever laid their eyes on you, is lucky enough to be graced by your view. and to touch you. even by a split second on your hand, should be heaven enough for them. 

she also said that you were hers and anyone who should dare touch you would have their hands chopped off. 

but of course, she doesn't care about you anymore. you care about you. and you are indeed a goddess. and the only person ever worthy enough to see all of you, was natasha.

"this is wrong..." he grunts. 

"then why are you touching me?" 

his hand was on your stomach and he seems surprised when he sees it trailing up to your breasts. you bucked your hips so you he can feel the sensation of your cunt against his covered dick. you dress especially helped with the easy access. 

you could still feel his hesitation. you can feel the tension in his hands. you opened your eyes and you looked at him, like a helpless little girl asking for her daddy to help her with the icky feeling between her legs. you guided his hand upwards, letting it run through your breast and pulling it to hold the side of your neck. 

"touch me more..." 

you started grinding on him. you weren't feeling anything, really you couldn't. if anything, it was uncomfortable. but you saw him grunt, and you saw how much he yearned for more. so you moaned. you moaned as if you were chasing a high that fed his ego with wanting to help you with it. 

he held either side of your neck, as if supporting you as you grinded aimlessly on him. you wanted to get it over with. 

your moans got louder, and louder, until you erupted in quite an exaggerated act of pleasure and panted as if it was the most pleasurable you've ever experienced. 

"if you're done, rogers..." 

you were expecting her to be here. you were doing this so she could see how much you've moved on, but you didn't expect how belittling her voided gaze was. how just a simple glance at you made you feel so dirty, so small, so invalid. 

"and y/l/n." she mentions, slowly, almost angrily. "rogers, to the dean, please." 

it scared you how incredibly casual and contained she was. how composed, how calm. she just caught her ex (and student) being touched by her friend (and colleague) in her classroom. how can she be so utterly placid.

he did what she asked him to, quickly stumbling out of the room unable to meet her eyes. and while you were just about to get off, natasha tuts. "no, you stay there." she says. casually, as if she's correcting you. "don't move."

you felt every hair in your body stand up. it was as if the air suddenly turned cold. you were freezing. you were scared. you were embarrassed. you were in such a compromising position. your legs spread wide, your body leaned back. 

she stood right in front of you. not too far that you can't feel her warmth, but far enough so that she can study your entirety. 

her arms were crossed, and she looked at you as if she was a teacher who had just caught you smoking. except she is a teacher and she just caught you having sex with another teacher. 

"you know what?" she says, inching closer and closer to you. "i thought the only person i had to worry about was peter." she narrows her eyes, tilting her head, and the small grin that formed her lips made you rethink everything. "but i can't do anything to peter. peter's a nice kid." she stopped when she was in between your legs with absolutely no space left between her and the desk. you wanted to cry. you were shaking. but she didn't care. she cupped your pussy with a harsh slap, and pressed so pleasurably hard on your clit. "but now i know you'll throw yourself to just absolutely anybody, so maybe i should do a better job at keeping you away from everyone, yeah?"

you didn't know it was humanly possible to flip you and handle you the way she did. in just a split second, she had you laid down on your stomach, legs spread wide and hanging from her desk, and your dress scrunched up to expose your ass. 

you were breathing heavily. every and any ounce of courage was stripped off from your body. it's like she'd completely made you weak, she'd completely made you nothing but something for her to play with. 

"i don't even know what to do with you anymore..." she whispers, harshly grabbing the back of your neck and pushing it harder against the wooden surface. 

"you can't do anything to me..."

"are you sure about that?"

you could feel the bulge in her trousers, how massive it is despite of the space between your bodies. she lightly laid a hand on your covered ass, soothing over it with her soft touch. 

you knew what's about to happen. you knew. and never in a million years did you think something like that would turn you on. you didn't think it was something that would form a wet patch on your underwear, or tie knots inside your stomach. 

you wanted it, you wanted it more and more especially when you've heard her undo her belt. but you have to stand by your pride. your dignity. you're not going to let her ruin you and lead you on so she can choose her wife over you again. you're not going back to the heartbroken little girl who was chasing after her, knocking on her door, begging her to take you back. 

"no..." you resisted, but that only made her push you harder against the surface of her desk. "mrs. romanoff, you have to stop."

she laughs, almost frustratingly. "god..." she says. "don't say that as if it doesn't turn you on." she pressed her body on yours, gripping your thigh so hard that you can feel her nails going through your skin. "you shouldn't tell me what to do." 

it was pain beyond what you expected. tears seeped through your eyes when she landed a harsh slap on your ass. it hurts so bad that you couldn't help but cry. cry out of pain. and what scared you, is that... you were crying out of pleasure too. you were crying out of longing. out of want for more of it. 

but nonetheless, you stood your ground. "you have a wife! think about wanda... please." 

you didn't care about wanda. 

and regardless of how many times you lie and say that you do, you knew under all this pride was just you wanting to hear her say it. under all the resistance was you baiting her to tell you she wants you. 

she landed another harsh slap. and another. and another. and by what you counted was the 15th, you were heaving, crying, whimpering. your forehead was resting on top of the desk, you hands holding its edge. she didn't say anything, she just hurt you. and hurt you. until you were begging her to stop. 

"you didn't like it, sweetheart?" she asked, her voice an angelic whisper while she soothes over you reddened ass. 

you did like it. you liked it so much you can feel yourself dripping. you wanted to buck your hip, grind on something. but you resisted. you need to know she wants you before you show her how much you want her. it's what you owe yourself after this. 

you yelped when you felt her tug on your hair so your head is raised up. she clung her belt around your neck, pushing the end through the buckle and fastening it tight around your neck.

and like a dog, she tugs on it so she's pulling you back. her body was pressing against yours, all her weight on you. you could feel her breath against your skin, you can feel her scent overtaking every ounce of reason in your mind. but you resisted nonetheless. you resisted her hold on you. you pulled on the belt by lowering your head, but she was quick to tug it back, wrapping her other hand on your neck. 

"you don't have to worry about wanda, dear." she whispered. "you didn't when you let me fuck you in the closet while she's sleeping."

"back then you wanted me..." 

she stops. and for a moment you felt your heart crack at the thought of her stopping simply because she couldn't tell you she wanted you. but then she chuckles when she got off of you. 

"aww..." she coos. loosening her grip on both your neck and the belt. "is that all my dumb baby wants to hear?" 

she pulled you by the shoulders, gently, turning you around and carrying you up the desk so your sitting on it with your legs spread wide for her. "listen to me," she says, a hand holding your waist. her nose trailed from your ear, down to your neck, and then your collarbone. she was smelling you, she was feeling your warmth, she was getting drunk on your scent. 

she tugged on the belt so you gave her more access to your neck. you closed your eyes. you know at any moment you're bound to break. you'll be begging her to take you like the little slut that you are. you just want to hear her say it. please, natasha. say you want me. 

your eyes popped wide open when you felt some cold metal trailing your thigh. from the top, slowly making it's way to your knee. you already knew what it was. if there's anything natasha never lets herself without, it's her gun, and her knife. she was playing with a knife. 

"natasha..." you whispered, fear imminent from your shaking voice. 

"darling," she looks at you, her face not even an inch away from you. "you would be afraid of me if i told you what i did to every single person who even looked in your direction." 

you tried to calm yourself down despite of the sharp blade that continued to soothe against your skin. you stopped your heaving, you steadied your thinking. you showed her that you can take it. you can take her. you can take all of her. 

"i will never be afraid of you..." you whispered.

"is that so?" her eyes narrow in challenge. 

you almost screamed in pain, gasping for air when she suddenly drew a deep cut on your inner thigh. tears streamed down your face as you saw the blood drip from your skin to the part of your dress you were sitting on. 

“you should...” she whispers almost inaudibly. "i drove away every single man, every single person to even think about you." she says, drawing another cut parallel to the one she'd already done. you can only let your nails bury deep on the skin of your leg, holding on to it, hoping to numb the pain from your thigh by inflicting more on your leg. "i have done unspeakable things to any person who even dared come your way. so to say i want you?..." and finally, she drew the last cut that connected the two lines together, a diagonal cut to spell her first initial. "would be an understatement." 

you closed your eyes. "fuck me..." you whisper.

"say that again, darling."

"please, fuck me... mommy."

suddenly, she was pulling the belt firm so your head stays close, and your lips on hers as she completely devours it. her tongue explored every inch of your mouth the same way she let her 2 fingers explore every untouched crevice of your pussy.

your hips bucked against her hand. you tried every possible way to grind against her hand, to meet the rhythm of her slow torturing pace. you wanted to cry. you wanted to feel her. you wanted to feel her in every part, every inch of your insides until you become so accustomed to it you can’t live without her inside you.

you wanted her in every part of you, you can’t help but cry especially when she tugged even harder on the belt signaling you to stay still. “stay down,” she growled. “stay down.”

you couldn’t tell which one were whines, or moans, or cries. all you know was that they kept coming and she was just so eagerly swallowing them into the kiss. when her fingers leave your aching hole, you couldn’t help but pull away from the kiss so you can look her in the eyes, “no…” you frowned. 

you looked like a kid, filled with disappointment, and tears, and desperation. she loved it so much. she loved knowing that after all these years, she still has the same effect on you as you have on her. she loved knowing that you’re so weak for her. she loves the power of knowing that you’ll always always beg for her even if she hurts you multiple times. she’s your drug. and you’re her obsession. 

she hid the amusement, the grin, behind a raised eyebrow and what an awful and condescending gaze. “you want to be fucked so hard don’t you?” she says, trailing one hand from your neck down to your stomach, undoing the buttons of your button down dress as she does so. 

“only by you, mommy…” 

you gasped when the cold steel hits your skin again. this time, it was trailing against your skin. from your knee and slowly up the inner of your thighs. you froze when you realized its path towards the part that ached the most. 

you closed your eyes but natasha was quick to grab your jaw and press the blood stained knife harder against your skin. “now, i hardly believe that…” you can hear the restraint in her voice, the anger badly disguised as composure. her eyes backed that up. her eyes were dark. so dark you could hardly make up the green in it. it was an entirely different color. “haven’t i seen you grinding against rogers just a moment ago?”

the fear can not overcome the pleasure. the adrenaline. the lust, the desire, the want. you weren’t sane enough to stay quiet. so in a moment of confidence, you looked at her with narrowed eyes and almost a teasing smile. you took her face between your hands and pulled her closer so your noses are just so close to touching. “what are you going to do about it?”

something flared behind her eyes. challenge. something one should never do is challenge natasha romanoff. and with that very knowledge, you did it anyway. 

your hands found balance on either end of the table when she suddenly pushed you down, pulling your legs towards her so your upper body lays completely flat on the table, and your legs are wrapped around her. 

“the moment you step out of this classroom, everyone should know how much of a little slut you are for your professor, yeah?” she says, pressing a hand on your stomach as her knife continues to trail up your thigh. “i will make sure to ruin you for everyone else.” her grunt accompanied the loud gasp you let out when the knife finally met the fabric of your underwear. you closed your eyes shut, holding onto dear life, tears streaming down the sides of your face in fear.

you restrained your breathing, if you were breathing at all. you felt it make its way up from your hole and up towards your clit. it was slow. so torturously slow that you just wanted to get it over with. and maybe it was natasha being careful. but natasha never needs to be careful. she’s being delicate and gentle under all this anger and aggression. and somehow, that makes the experience of having a knife following the slit of your pussy slightly better. 

the relief that washed over you when you felt your underwear snap in two and the knife leave your body felt almost like an orgasm. you were finally able to let your breath go, panting and gasping for the air your deprived yourself of because of fear. 

“aww, did that scare my dumb baby?” 

you would count that as a near death experience. and having experienced that finally snapped some sense into you. “are you craz–” only to be taken away by natasha whose fingers finally entered your hole without warning, and in the most unforgiving pace thinkable.

“you were saying, lovely?” 

your eyes rolled to the back of your head, releasing an animalistic moan as your hips met her fingers and matched her rhythm as she hits every spot that only she knew of. “ah! oh my god, natasha!” you scream, a string of moans leaving your lips. 

“i wish you can see how pretty you look like this…” she whispers, curling her fingers inside you. “but you can’t. no one can. and to think you were just going to show this to rogers...” she said his name with so much disgust. a hand tugs on the belt pulling it tighter almost restricting your airways. “no one can see you like this, do you hear me?”

you were so close to crying as you inch closer to the high you’ve been craving for. “yes…” you cried, trying to grind against her hand harder.

“yes, what?”

“yes mommy!” you cried. “oh god, please mommy, please please please…”

you were losing your mind, chanting pleads for your dear mommy. her lips began kissing your collarbone, trailing wet kisses on occasional bites from your neck down to your stomach. “come on, scream for mommy, slut.”

you were. you were screaming for her. you were screaming her name. you were chanting, and praying to her. you were so close you could already see a faint of the stars, of the heaven you were chasing.

“no.” she pulls out. 

her lips leave your body, and her fingers your dripping cunt. you looked at her with what such an amusing, even cute, disappointed face. your lips were pouted and you eyebrows furrowed as you sat up and watched as she slowly walked away. 

she sat on a chair in the front row, legs crossed, head tilted, mouth stretched into a small grin. she saw the marks she made on you. the bruises she made on your body. the bleeding cut she marked you with. she loved it. suddenly you felt a wave of embarrassment. chills ran through your bare skin as she looked at you as if she was waiting for you to report what was assigned to you in class. 

“i want you to touch yourself.” she says. “touch yourself and show me just how much of a little slut you are for mommy, yeah?”

your heart pounded inside of you. hesitation filled your face but nonetheless, you knew only she can give you the pleasure you were after. she was the pleasure you were after. you’re not getting what you want until you give her what she wants. 

“come on, darling. don’t be shy. give a little show for momm–” 

your eyes widened when the door opened. 

and from it comes steve rogers. 

when you thought you wanted the ground to eat you whole after you confessed to natasha, you were wrong. because you never wanted to disappear more than you do now. you didn’t even get the chance to cover yourself and you only realized how bare you were when professor rogers nearly met your eyes but quickly turned it to natasha. 

“professor rogers is here, dear.” natasha says in the most welcoming tone, extending her arm as an invitation for the man to sit beside her. you could only look at her in disbelief that you were sure she didn’t notice as her eyes were on steve. “why don’t you give my dearest friend, steve, a show he would never forget?”

steve couldn’t bear to look at you. and neither can you on him. so while his eyes remained on the desk you were on, yours remained on natasha. completely frozen and in disbelief. however, natasha ignored that as well as she ignores you in the halls. her grin disappears, “come on. give steve a show.” she said that with drastic pauses in between. so you can only do so much as let your hand trail to your exposed pussy, and touch the nub natasha had only ignored thus far. 

you closed your eyes as you felt tears coming. you laid down, avoiding every chance that they can to see your face, and the pleasure touching yourself gives you. you opened your legs further to give yourself better access, and then you start rubbing on your swollen clit.

the loud moan you let out at the first contact your hand made with your nub made you want to hide in embarrassment, but of course, that feeling was quickly overtaken by pleasure, even bucking your hips to meet your hand. 

within a minute, you were a moaning mess, your hips raising and almost grinding against your own hand. “oh my fucking god…” you moan. “ah! god, mmmm…” 

you could hear professor rogers grunting. even clearing his throat from time to time. you were in display, an object for them to get off on, but you didn’t care. 

“oh my god! i’m cumming, i’m cumming, i’m cumming…” 

you quickened your pace, almost crying out when you’ve finally reached your high. 

but no cry, or no animalistic moan from you can hide the loud bang that made you sit up. 

natasha was already walking towards you. getting hold of both your legs as she went around the table, you spinning around as she moved, so now you’re facing the whiteboard. you weren’t able to get a look at her because she suddenly flipped you. she handled you so easily, it made you throb despite having just cum. 

you hear ruffles from behind you, and then she pulls the belt. that completely restricted your airways as it tightened around your neck, and when she pulls you so your head was up, something entered you. she finally entered you. she bottomed out without letting you adjust, already setting a fast pace. 

the immense pleasure from the way she’s hitting you was able to hide the fear, and the shock, and even the tears from seeing the lifeless body of professor rogers that’s sitting on the chair right beside where natasha was. you wanted to close your eyes, you wanted to forget the sight of him, blood splattered on him, and dripping from the hole in his temple. but natasha pressed her body on you, reaching over your front as she pounded your back. and when you felt something warm rub on your clit, something warm, and metal, and almost wet with what you hope isn’t the liquid that’s oozing out of the body in front of you, you knew you couldn’t close your eyes. 

the sight of a freshly dead body in front of you should take you out of the mood. but it didn’t. it scared you that it didn’t. it scared you that it made you throb. that seeing it made you moan, and want more from natasha. “oh my god… ngh…” you couldn’t contain it. you can only keep so much in. the fact that you weren’t chanting her name. that you had to actively stop yourself from chanting her name as respect to the dead body in front of you. it scared you.

“see, this is what happens when someone touches what’s mine… do you understand me?” she growls in your ear. pulling you further back so her lips can be closer to your ear. 

“i’m not yours…” 

she killed someone. and while you’ve always known she was capable of such a thing, it was only right for you to hate her. you have to hate her. “oh? but you are, dear.”

you moaned again. and again. she angled her hips in the way she knew would take the most out of you. you were so lost in the pleasure, but the dead body in front of you kept you even the tiniest bit sane. “you’re–ugh–married. you belong to someone else.”

you were grinding against her. it took you everything in your power to not grind against her. 

“i’m finalizing my divorce. i had to resist you until i’m free, but goddamn…” she grunted. “i had to transfer you out of my class so i can be with you. but apparently you just used that opportunity to be a whore. i just had to remind my little whore who she belongs to…”

you were cumming. you were so close, you were choking on moans despite of how much you tried to resist them. “you murdered someone…” you said weakly. she’s going through a divorce, but she killed someone.

“haven’t i before? for you?” she reminds you, following up her words of how much you’d hate her if you knew what she did to everyone who ever did so much as look in your direction. “and i will kill again if it means keeping what’s mine, mine…”

you breathed out. letting go. “oh... god…” you screamed, closing your eyes and gripping harder against the end of the table. 

she got a divorce for you.

she killed for you.

“now, remind me who you belong to again, peach?”

it’s only right. you owed her this.

“you…”

you have to be hers. that way you can protect the lives of the people around you. right?

“who?” she tugs harder, completely blocking your air flow. you were crying, you were chanting, you were praying, you were begging. you were using up every last breath in your body to worship the closest being to god.

you have to be hers. you can’t be anyone else’s.

“you mommy!” you cried, exploding in ecstasy as you’d finally reached the stars.

you were already hers. you had always been hers. you will only ever be hers. 

“good girl.”

you’ll never say it out loud, but you want her to kill every man to ever even walk close to you. and you want her to fuck you as she does so. 

navigation || requests for smutty sundays are now open !!!

in celebration of 500 followers which, by the way, thank you so much, i am opening requests for our smutty sundays! wherein i'll be posting smut fics every sunday from your requests <3

here's what i take:

• blurbs (usually small fics under 500 words)

• headcanons (i have a very smutty imagination. these are mostly my headcanons depending on what you request)

• fics (normal decent fanfics at least 1000 or more words)

• series (a whole entire series based on what you request)

if nobody requests anything, forget this even happened. but rest assured, i will be taking in every request i get (unless it's something that i don't write). do refer to my navigation list + what i don't write/who i write for before requesting <3

pairing: natasha romanoff x female reader

warning: minors dni (it's not like i can stop you. but keep in mind that you're responsible for your media consumption so be responsible), smut, roles; dom!natasha & brattysub!reader, semi-public sex, curse words, teasing, kinks; mommy kink | very slight praise kink | very slight degradation kink | choking kink | hair pulling, rough, large age gap; natasha is 37 and reader is 22

summary: you haven't seen natasha in a week. after being forbidden to relieve yourself during her time away, you refuse to give her the satisfaction of doing what she wants with you without a little show

a/n: NOBODY REMEMBERS ME, I KNOW. but who 9 months later, i'm back! i got pregnant and had to give birth. it was hard, it hurts, except it doesn't because i'm playing. but anyways, i've missed everyone, i'm going to write a lot of angst after this because why not

tony likes to throw parties. he used to throw extravagant monthly parties in the compound until the security of the place failed him, and the compound was infiltrated by a minor agency under hydra. ironic, isn't it? you'd think the avengers would have the best security in the world, especially with the literal owner of stark industries being your leader, but nope. when you live in a giant building full of superheroes, you forget you even need security. or that you need a strong one.

so instead of extravagant monthly parties (that the entire team against after the whole infiltration thing), tony now throws an "avenger weekend out" every month where he arranges something for the avengers to do together.

just 2 months ago, he booked the entire team a trip to dubai that you didn't really get to see much of. you and your girlfriend were quick to disappear into your hotel room and you didn't come out until the weekend was over. and by then you were limping.

this time, it's a trip to vegas.

he booked a fancy restaurant for the whole team. he gave tonight a little twist by sending stylists to everyone's rooms so everyone can look their best (the entire team knows that he only did that to stop bucky from wearing a t-shirt to fancy places but who is anyone to complain).

after a long time of trying to pick an outfit—which you had racks and racks of in your room courtesy of tony and his money—you've finally settled on a beautiful black silk dress with your cleavage propped up and exposed, you hair in an updo, and your body in the arms of someone who is not your girlfriend.

you had just arrived—fashionably late as always, and then you saw natasha. you knew she was coming. she was on a mission and had to come separately, dropping by at the compound first when you had already left.

she was gone for a week. and the entire time, you had been nothing but a good girl. you didn't touch yourself. you didn't send her a naughty picture. you didn't look at porn. because no matter how much you begged her to let you, she wouldn't. she knew how frustrated you are. but you don't want to give her the satisfaction of just doing everything she wants with you when she didn't let you do what you want. at least, not yet. you like your little games and your little shows.

so when a flare of jealousy swirls within her green eyes after you'd entered in the arms of wanda maximoff, making sure to greet everyone with a kiss on the cheek as the men especially welcomed you standing up, you knew she doesn't know your play. you sat across from her, not beside, and you can feel everyone's eyes wander from you and onto the empty spot next to natasha.

you only ever took it as far as sending her a naughty picture during a meeting. or calling her, moaning through the phone, when you know she's with the team. you never walked in the arms of someone else, or denied her of at least sitting close to you. not until now.

"if you're gonna be fashionably late, then might as well look like y/n, sam." tony quips, breaking off the awkward moment of when you met her eyes as you set your little purse on wanda's lap.

tony started the evening off by coming after cap. steve of course answered him all defensively and that started a whole thing between them. peter was annoying bucky, and sam was there laughing. pietro is nodding along something vision is saying. and thor is just asking for more beer. clint and bruce are having an awkward conversation—they're trying. they're not the closest, but they're trying. when you and nat are having a thing (that clint can always tell when you are), and tony is busy calling out everyone, clint and bruce are left trying to find something to talk about. and right now, they've settled on the temperature of their steaks.

you, on the other hand, spent the entire evening staring directly at the woman in front of you. she never took her eyes off of you either. she followed your eyes even as it glances over tony, or looks a second too long at wanda's.

you were in wanda's arms looking at natasha the entire time. you were looking at her while you laugh at a joke wanda told you, you were looking at her when your head falls on wanda's shoulder for a second, you were looking at her as you whisper something in wanda's ear.

you didn't think that the "anger makes you turn red" was a real thing—it's easier to think it makes you turn green—until you saw natasha's face, all red, the veins in her neck were popping out, and her lips were trembling with her jaw clenched. you know nobody noticed besides you. nobody in this world can memorize her skin tone enough to see when it changes. to everyone, the glare that was sharp enough to cut through you was just how she normally looks. if anything, she's merely staring at you. but you can see through her. you've memorized her features, her face, her, so expertly that you can tell even the smallest micro changes in her expression. and right now, she's angry.

so you take that as your leave.

you let her cool off.

you stood up, you looked over at wanda and smiled at the way her hands trailed down your back, asking if you needed her to accompany you to which you shook your head.

you walked with confidence, with ease, fully knowing that you'd be getting what you want when you get home. you pushed through the door of the restroom, the marble tiled, rough lighted room that someone suddenly grabbed you in by the elbow to.

you immediately knew who it was by her scent alone. she passed through you at the door and quickly grabbed you before you could even do anything.

"natasha, what—"

she kissed you. she put an arm on your back and she pulled your body until you're pressed against her with no space left to breath. and then she kissed you. she kissed you aggressively. she kissed you until you had no choice but to surrender the very little power you had over her.

the hand that's been holding the door the entire time found the back of your head. she pulled you up and pushed your back hard against the wall and she kissed you harder. you didn't like losing. so you kissed her with as much aggression, as much strength, if not more, as she did you.

your hands travelled up to her hair. you didn't care if it was styled to perfection. you intertwined your fingers with her red locks, and you twisted your legs around her body so you can pull her impossibly closer.

your kiss became passionate. but she still kissed you with the power she knows she has over you, and you kissed her with the resistance you know only you can give her.

you were resisting her advances. you were moving your head so she can't fully do what she wants, so she can't kiss you the way she wants to and only the way you want to.

her hand went to hold your jaw. she held you in place, she pushed a tongue in between your lips which you were quick to resist by pulling away. she wasn't enjoying it. her jaw was clenched, and her eyes were narrowed by almost an unnoticeable bit.

you smiled.

you smiled in the way that irritated her most. "i think, you need to start being patient." you said, grabbing her by the wrist. her eyes never left yours as you pulled her hand down from your jaw to slowly, gently, lightly trail the center of your body.

you lifted your chin to what the wall behind you allowed when her hand reached the gap between your covered breasts. and when it reached your stomach, you made sure to roll your eyes in the way that you knew made her crazy. and then you pushed your hands between your two bodies so it reaches your wet core. you didn't let her touch. you felt her fingers extend in an attempt to reach it, but you held it far enough so she can only feel how warm you were without feeling you.

you made sure not to look at her. you closed your eyes, and you let your chest rise, and your mouth open slightly. it was as if you were playing with a sex toy. like you were holding a vibrator and teasing yourself with it.

the very little power you had over her, is from the obsession she has with you, with your body, with your entirety. and she knew it damn well. but she couldn't do anything about it. because it was the way your back arched when you finally let her touch, controlling how long it stays, or how hard she pressed, that keeps her going. it riles her up.

you made her fall into an obsession she can never get out of. she was addicted to you.

that show that you play for her, it intoxicates her. it pulls her. it lets her see how much power she has to take back. how much control she has to force back from you. she likes the chase. the games. she likes knowing that after your little episode, she'll get to do whatever she wants, and frankly, you like that too.

so when you let her fingers press a little harder on your swollen bud, and you moaned, she flipped you. she flipped you so quickly that you didn't realize your front was against the wall until she carried you by the stomach and bent you over the sink.

she finally had all the freedom in the world to touch the pussy she was so wrongfully denied of. she made you spread your legs. and then her fingers danced on your core. she pressed on every part of you until you were grinding on her. "natasha, don't—" you breathed, "don't tease me." you were trying to stay in control. to tell her what to do. but she wasn't having it. you had you time, your fun.

you gasped when she cupped your sex with her palm. she lowered her body, and pressed it hard against your own. her other hand tucks a portion of your hair behind your ear so it's not covering your eyes.

"i think, you need to learn to be patient, dear." she whispers against your ear.

you felt her weight. and her warmth, and somehow, with the very little reason left in your body, you remembered the door. you couldn't move. the weight of her body held you in place. but you forced your hand to find the back of her head. you resisted the moans. you resisted the uncontrollable urge to grind against her arm by forcing yourself still.

"nat, the door." you whispered. "we can't do this here."

suddenly, she was rubbing your pussy. with the entirety of her palm. she was rubbing your swollen nub, and your hole, and everything that her palm covered. your mouth dropped wide open to let out the most animalistic moan you had absolutely no control of. and then she pulls your hair back so your ear is right where her lips were at.

"you should've thought about that before your little stunt back there, don't you think?" she growls. you could feel the tears forming in your eyes as your inhibitions slowly faded away.

the door. anybody can walk in on you at any moment. they will see you being fucked on top of the counter. they're going to see what slut this avenger is. but you can't stop grinding on her hand. the mere thought of someone seeing you being fucked out makes you grind even harder until her palm leaves your clothed pussy, and lands hard on your covered ass.

"mommy doesn't like naughty girls. you know that, right?" she slaps you again. and then again. and then again.

that had more tears running down your face. you hadn't realize that she wasn't on top of you anymore until she pulls your hair back even further so you can see yourself in the mirror.

you left the hotel with the reddest lipstick that's now smudged all over your lower face, and such an evenly drawn eyeliner that's now running down your cheeks. your hair that's been put up into an elegant updo, is now undone and held in a handful in natasha's hands. and you, moaning and panting and crying and grinding against her for every slap she lands on your now bare ass, look like a pathetic whore.

"didn't i tell you to be patient?"

natasha pushed herself against you, pressing down on your body while pulling your hair as far as your body allowed. you can see her on the mirror, you can feel her bulge against your cunt. and you couldn't help but grind against her dress, fully knowing the juices you'll be leaving on it, but frankly you couldn't care less.

her hair is messily falling over her shoulder now. and her lipstick is smudged against her chin. you loved the strands of hair that hung over the side of her head. and the way her head tilts in pride as she watches you writhing under her, chasing a high from the very little friction you get from grinding against her.

"please, i just need you to fuck me..." you cried. "please, nat..."

her eyebrows pinch almost in insincere pity. "now, is that a way to talk to your mommy?"

"mommy, please..."

she made you sit on the counter, never letting go of the grip she had on your hair. you were panting. and huffing. you were like a puppy in heat as you face her with legs all spread out on top of the restroom sink. you presented her with the cunt that only she gets to touch. the pussy that she's claimed.

her eyes softened for a moment when she comes as close as the counter gave her the space to. her other hand falls on your waist, while the other tugs at your hair so your faces are just an inch apart. she looked concerned, she looked like she was about to give into what you want. but then she doesn't.

"do you really think bad girls deserve mommy's dick?" she says, and suddenly her hand's on your neck, while the other finally makes contact with your cunt, pushing your lace underwear to the side. "should i really fuck you?"

your hips grinded harder against her fingers especially when she slammed two fingers into you. "god, yes mommy. please fuck me."

her grip on your neck tightens and she pushes you harder so your head hits the mirrors. "after your little stunt? flirting with wanda?" she didn't sound as taunting as you knew she wanted to sound like. instead, she sounded angry. and with the way she's restricting your airways, and the way she's slamming unforgivingly against your pussy, you knew she was angry.

"'m sorry mommy. will never happen again." that's a lie. it will happen again. but you need her. you need her. her fingers aren't enough. you wanted her to stretch you out. you wanted to feel her against every part of your pussy.

"right..." she says. "who do you belong to, sweetheart?" her grip tightens even more when she adds another finger and your hips jolts up as your eyes roll impossibly further back into your head. you were screaming her name. chanting it over and over again until her grip tightens even more. "quickly, sweetheart. i can hear someone coming."

you couldn't breath. your hand takes grasp of her wrist, but it wasn't to stop her hand from gripping your neck. you couldn't care less about air when she just added the last of her four fingers while her thumb circles your clit. you were chasing your high. you wanted this so badly. the way she was reaching spots, rubbing against parts you didn't even know existed. you were losing your mind. you couldn't breath, you couldn't think. your mind was blank, and it might be that you're about to pass out that you start seeing stars, but if you were to die right at this very moment, you're happy to have this as your last memory.

"who do you belong to?"

you grinded even harder, your hips were writhing against the fingers that only increased in pace. you were hazy. you were a moaning mess. and right at the very last second when you can feel yourself slipping away in pure ecstasy and an incredibly limited amount of air, you were able to mutter, "you..."

and then she lets you go right at the very second you exploded in her fingers. her hand was no longer on your neck, it was pressing on your chest just below your collarbone as she lets you ride out your high. your moans. her name. your cries. it was all music to her ears.

your consciousness came back, all along with your reason, and reality itself. you opened your eyes, panting. that might have just been one of the greatest sex you had in your entire life. you had a smile on your face as did natasha as she licked all your juices off her fingers.

her features softened as she caresses your face in her hands, pulling you closer, gently, softly, so you can stare into her eyes. "my good girl did so well for me." she whispers, giving you a peck on the nose. "mommy's gonna give you what you want later because you've done so well for me."

you knew she was jealous. your stunt made her jealous. you could see it in the way the end of her lip twitched. or through the darkness in her eyes.

you put your hands over hers. "i love you..." you whisper. "i belong to you. and you only."

that made her smile. she carried you off the sink and then she grabs a few tissue papers to soak in water and clean off your make up. she made sure to leave out your smudged lipstick. she left off the red tint on your lower face. and when you were about to fix it for yourself, she tuts. "don't. that should send a message that you're off limits, yeah?"

she didn't do anything to fix herself. your hairs were a mess, your dresses were wrinkled. but neither of you cared. you knew you wouldn't be staying any more than 5 minutes in this restaurant now.

she took your hand and let her fingers intertwined with yours as you both walked through the door. you were quickly met by the sight of a line of women with wanda on it's head. you couldn't even say anything. all you can do was hide behind natasha.

"next time, just go home." wanda says.

navigation || marvel masterlist || hollywood masterlist

pairing: natasha romanoff x female reader

warning: minors dni (it's not like i can stop you. but keep in mind that you're responsible for your media consumption so be responsible), smut, roles; dom!natasha & sub!reader cheating, semi-public sex, curse words, kinks; mommy kink | praise kink | degradation kink | choking kink, spanking, established unlabeled/non-commited relationship with peter parker.

summary: you're peter parker's unofficial girlfriend. you hadn't made it official yet but he likes you a lot and though you don't feel as much affection towards him as he does to you, you knew that he's too good to pass on; you might never meet someone as nice or someone who loves you as much so you've set your mind into trying to fall for the guy. natasha though reminds you why you shouldnt try to fall for someone. at least not someone like peter.

a/n: im going to die. me writing smut? yes, me writing smut. keep in mind that i don't write smut. and this is my first time. im actually blushing over my own writing what the fuck. but i mean. i mean. i mean. nat... i cant not write smut about natasha. i feel dirty and i feel sorry for peter but i mean.

"you're such a good girl..." your breath hitched, once again hearing her voice inside you own head. you could hear your heart thumping inside your chest, from every beat to every pulse, you could hear it all within the walls of your mind, accompanying her words—that voice that felt too much of some whispered curse in your ear—that echoed repeatedly inside your head.

"y/n, are you okay?" you were pulled out by peter. his voice silencing your thoughts relieving you of the echoes of her voice or the thumping of your heart. "if you're not feeling well you can stay here and i can take care of you. or i can ask mr stark or mr banner to take a look at you?"

it was only when you looked at him did you realize that his arms were hugging you tight. your figures settled on the red couch from one of the many living rooms inside the avengers compound. you could feel the cold leather underneath your legs, the top of it being covered solely by a thin blanket that you and your unofficial boyfriend shared. there was a movie playing on the hologram projector in front of you, paused when peter noticed your pale lips and your uneven breathing.

"yeah, yeah. i'm okay." you reassured. shaking off any thought of natasha romanoff from your head and letting yourself focus back on your boyfriend and your date night.

you've never seriously dated anyone in your life. you tried, you really did, although no one can seem to just catch your fancy. you've tried jocks, nerds, cool guys, badboys, playboys, soft guys, cold guys, you've been living a wattpad dream with all the different types of guys you tried dating. but none interest you. none.

and then came peter. peter parker the famous spiderman. well, people don't know that yet. other than you and ned, and his ex girlfriend mj, no one really knows that he's spiderman. other than the avengers too of course, which you had been spending an awful lot of time with these past few months.

peter is the best guy you can go for. he's your standard, anyone who can exceed him doesn't exist. he is sweet, he is caring, he is smart. he is everything you'd want for in a guy. and he is the spider freaking man. none of the guys you dated could compare to him. he is the best guy you can ever possibly go for, so here you are. going for it.

you don't love him. you have no romantic feelings for him. but to be fair, you've never had any romantic feelings for anyone. with the many men you've dated, including peter, there was none that you feel even the slightest of romantic affection for. and after the god knows how men you've been with still having not developed feelings for them, you started thinking that maybe it's you who's the problem. maybe you're just incapable of love? maybe you haven't been trying hard enough?

thats why you're sure to settle down now with peter. you've been dating him for 8 months and you're sure that you can never get anyone better than him. he is more than good enough. he is your standard. and he is the best guy you'd probably ever come across with. you can not pass on a guy like peter regardless of how you feel. you're sure you will develop feelings for him. he is such a great guy after all.

"are you sure?" he asked.

you looked at him, conflicted. as great of a guy as he is, he has never made you feel... anything. butterflies, yes. but anything else, not really. you've never had your heart thumping for him, there was never a voice of his echoing inside your head, there was never that warmth between your legs over something he said, a continuous throbbing over his skin brushing against yours. even 8 months into dating there's none.

the most you've felt for anyone you felt for... the woman who you knew stand just a few steps from where you were. the two of you barriered by the wall between the kitchen and the open floor planned space you were in.

you've been coming back and forth from the compound for almost a year and not once had the famous black widow laid eyes on you. not other than the quick glances she takes when acknowledging your presence. she had never spoken to you except for a few words when you find yourself alone with her. she never dared come close to you so much so touch you. and then suddenly, she laid eyes on you. she talked to you. she touched you. she said things to you... things that you can not take off your mind. suddenly she made you feel all these things with just a mere gaze and a few words rolling off her tongue.

it was almost an hour ago when you stepped into the kitchen, doors of clear sliding glass and with no light upon your entrance. and then you suddenly saw a shadow move. amongst the darkness, there was a figure that moved of what you thought was a ghost but turned out to just be natasha.

"oh, miss romanoff! you scared me." you said, panting against the wall with your hand clutched against your chest. the lights had been opened then, initiated by friday with the command of natasha after you entered. "i thought you were a ghost."

she was leaning against the counter, her legs crossed and her hand mixing the cup of coffee she had on the other, its aroma mixing through the air.

the red head chuckled, shaking her head gently. "you've been coming here for almost a year, i think we're already passed you calling me miss romanoff." she said, her emerald green eyes looking at you from her slightly down tilted head.

suddenly you felt cold and warm at the same time, there were chills running down your spine, and you could feel the heat running up to your face. "i didn't think we were close."

you could feel yourself melting under her gaze. every single part of your body seeming to have been awoken by the woman's presence. from your sweating feet, to the tightening of your stomach. your accelerating heartbeat, and the tingling from certain parts of your body.

"then we should fix that, shouldn't we darling?"

her words had completely choked out every sense you had left. you had gone completely numb, your mind drained of any thoughts.

"do you like peter?" she asked, his name pulling you back to your senses. you took a moment, looking away and thinking of what to say. is she asking because she knows you don't? or is it rhetorical? "is that why you're wearing clothes that are so short?"

your eyes popped slightly wider from what she said. yourself suddenly over-aware of your exposed legs and your unnecessarily short skirt. you wanted to cover yourself, not wanting to be subjected under her eyes that you fear might contain judgement from your choice in clothing.

"oh don't worry, honey. you're absolutely gorgeous. no need to cover up." she said, reassuringly. "peter is a good kid. and i'm sure that you're such a good girl yourself." she made her way towards you, setting her coffee down on the counter. and when she finally stand then inches away from you, you could feel nothing else than the intensity of her stare. her lavender scent filled your senses, her warm breaths against your skin making you numb. and when she ran her soft fingers down your arms, you wanted nothing else but to feel more of her. but to see more of her, but to hear more of her, but to smell more of her, but to feel her. "it's just that im bad." she whispered. "and you shouldn't really wear clothes this short around me."

and even now that you're back into the comfort of your own boyfriend, you wanted nothing else, not one single thing from this world, but natasha romanoff. and as much as you tried to hide it, to restrain yourself, you couldn't. she left you a mess that only she could fix. only she had ever made you feel like this and you know that only she could ever make you feel anything better than what you're feeling now.

"y/n? are you in there? do you need me to ask mr stark to bring you to the hospital?" you still stare at peter fighting for control over your own mind.

"i'll be fine. just a girl problem. you go watch a movie, i'll go fix it in the kitchen." but when you find yourself, shuffling towards the kitchen with peter's eyes following you up until the very point when you've disappeared into the room, you knew that all your morals then had left your body and your right senses were of no more.

"back so soon?" natasha asked, looking at you with a teasing look plastered across her face.

"do it." you said, your hands holding tight of the woman's elbows as you squeezed you legs shut trying to stop the uncontrollable throbbing from your center. she raised an eyebrow, her eyes with a glint of amusement as she stared down at you.

"do what?" she asked.

"fuck me. please. please fuck me. fuck me rough and as hard as you can." you were letting out whimpers, your words almost slurred from your heavy breathing.

she didnt have to be told twice. in one swift move, she had you pinned against the wall, your legs around her hips and her hand around your throat. "friday, privacy command for the kitchen please." natasha said between your growing whimpers.

"privacy level 1 enabled. cameras are shut down and the doors have been covered."

and just as when the blinds fell to cover the glass doors, natasha's hand had already found it's way to your heated center. "do you know how long i've been waiting for this?" her fingertips brushed lightly against your clothed core, your whimpers only growing in volume almost pleading to have her touch you where you needed her most. "i can't even look at you, i can't talk to you, i can't be with you. i can't because if i did, i know i won't be able to resist. i won't be able to resist not seeing more, not hearing more, not feeling more."

your head fell into the crook of her neck, yourself feeling every drop of sweat that cascaded down your precious skin. "you're a good girl aren't you? you're gonna do everything i tell you to right?" you could feel her hot breath brushing over your exposed neck. her hand ghosting over your cunt and her body pressing hard against yours. "i need you to answer, baby."

you tried to even your breathing, ignoring the throbbing from your center that in time started to grow uncomfortable. "yes..." you whispered, absent-mindedly grinding yourself against her, chasing what little friction you can get from your movements.

you were like a puppy in heat. squirming under her, unable to control what desire flowed through your veins. "then tell me, who do you belong to?" she said, her voice a seductive whisper. "i don't touch what's not mine."

"you." there was no hesitation whatsoever. your voice was eager and you had absolutely no remorse for your words. "i belong to you."

and just like that, her fingers started rubbing tight circles against your clit. the pressure from her touch even against your clothed core emitting a loud pornographic moan from you that even you didn't know you can make.

"such a slutty little mouth you have." she cooed against your ear, holding you still with her hand against your throat and the other rubbing your center. "i want to hear all the sounds that pretty little mouth can make."

you grinded against her fingers, your eyes closing shut as you've fully given into the pleasure of her touch, intoxicated by the kisses she left across your jaw and neck.

"y/n? are you okay?" but then you heard his voice from the other side of the wall, and the moment you did, natasha's finger entered your dripping cunt with no warning, starting in an incredibly fast pace, pumping into you hard and fast.

your eyes shot open, thinking—hoping that after hearing his voice, the desire you have for the lady fucking you right now would be washed away by the thought of the man you've set your mind into loving. you thought you'd push natasha away and run back into the arms of your boyfriend.

but when your head turned towards the door and all you thought then was the woman against you, you knew that not even your boyfriend's voice, his face, or him can control what eager desire you had for the woman.

"y/n, what's going on, i can hear your voice. are you crying?" the man asked again, interrupting the moans you tried hard to swallow down.

"i..." you managed to let out, looking pleadingly at the woman with eyes that wished for her to slow down.

"go on. answer him." she said, completely ignoring you as she added on another finger, your hips grinding against her palm for some friction against your clit. "or would you rather he hears your slutty moans?"

you could feel that coil in your stomach beginning to tighten with your eyes starting to water in sheer pleasure. you turned your head back towards the door, huffing as you held back your moans, chasing for your orgasm.

"im okay, peter!" you practically yelped his name coming out as an unintentional moan when you've reached the peak of your orgasm, having now natasha help you ride it down. "im..." you panted. "im okay. just girl problems." you said.

"im here helping her, dont worry, peter." your eyes widened at natasha who just looked at you in challenge.

"oh..." you hear peter say. "thank goodness you're there miss romanoff. i never understand these girl stuff." though you had no remorse for your actions, not for your words, not for your desires, peter's innocence didn't fail to make your heart ache in guilt. "i'll just stand outside the door and wait for y/n to come out."

you opened your mouth in an attempt to speak but before any words could come out of your throat, natasha's fingers had already beaten them as it slid through your mouth, hearing a soft, "clean them." from the woman before her head turned towards the door. "that's a good idea," she encouraged the man. "stay there, so you can hear your pretty little girlfriend."

while those words fell out from her mouth, natasha had you in her arms, carrying you towards the kitchen island.

"oh she's not my girlfriend yet, miss romanoff!" natasha could feel the man's smile. she could see through his voice, the blush on his face a vibrant pink from what she could imagine.

that should make what she's doing with you slightly harder but it didn't. natasha was not troubled by any guilt as she bent you down the island, holding you down with both of your hands on your back, her hand keeping them in place.

she pulled your skirt down along your soaked underwear. her eyes falling immediately on your ass that she she stared at in admiration. "she's not?" she asked peter, her voice thick with sarcastic innocence as her hand rubbed softly against your exposed ass.

she could hear your whimpers, that moan you let out when you felt the cold air against your dripping cunt, or the heavy breaths of you just waiting for what she'd do next.

her fingers ran through your folds, smearing the wetness that gathered on your hole. she bent down, her body pressing against you and her mouth on your ear.

"you're not his girlfriend so there wont be anything wrong if i do..." she trailed off her words into a sudden slap on your ass that had you yelping in pain.

"what was that?" peter asked.

"oh there was a fly. i can't seem to catch it."

another slap was planted on your ass. and a couple more that in your head you counted to be 15. each one leaving a hard painful sting on your skin that as much as it shouldnt have, had added into the pleasure of having been bent across the island, exposed under natasha's eyes.

"peter..." you huffed, tears falling from your eyes in both pain and pleasure of natasha's every slap. "i think you should... stay in the living room." you said, heavy breaths in between your words.

"are you sure?"

you just hummed feeling natasha's fingers ghosting against your clit again. "is my little whore scared that her boyfriend would hear her slutty moans?" natasha asked, her fingers lightly pinching your clit that sent waves of pleasure over your stomach.

you whimpered, letting out a weak yes before suddenly feeling her entering 3 fingers inside of you. fucking you in a merciless pace that had you moaning so loud you were sure that peter heard every slutty moan that came out from your lips.

"your pussy is so tight, baby."

but frankly, you didnt care. you were far too focused on the pleasure natasha is giving you that the whole team can hear you and you won't even bother. the way her fingers pumped into you, filling you up and sending you over the edge with every twist and every shift in angle.

"oh god mommy please..." you moaned out. moving your hips to match every thrust of her expert fingers. "please... please... please..."

"you're such a desperate little whore aren't you?" she cooed. "whores dont get to come."

she pulled out.

suddenly you were left bent over the kitchen island, your legs shaking and your body trembling, puffs and huffs of air you let out while the arousal of your oh so empty cunt dripped onto the marble tiled floor.

natasha pulled up the hem of your shirt, signalling you to lift yourself up so she could take it off with ease. and so you did, and now you appear completely naked, still bent over the island. you shuddered at the first contact your hardened nipples made with its cold surface, letting out a silent moan from the feeling before you rested your forehead on it in frustration of your denied orgasm.

natasha held your wrists in one hand, pressing you harder against the surface while her body pressed against yours, moving her mouth closer to your ear where you felt her warm breath graze over your bare skin.

"be a good girl for me and don't move." she whispered. tugging you back by your hair before she forced your shirt into your mouth that silenced your loud gasp. "be silent too. maybe then i'll let you cum."

you felt it—the hair on your skin standing up from her words. there was a moan that errupted from your lips, if words could only make you cum, you wouldn't be sure how many times you'd reached your orgasm at this point. the way every word fell smoothly from her mouth with every flick of the tongue and every breath of a word. her low raspy voice and that control in her tone.

"open wide." she said, kicking your legs wide open before you suddenly felt something cold pressing hard against your clit.

you weren't sure where the sound came from—that animalistic moan that came errupting out of your lips while your back arches still limited by her returning grasp on your wrists that held your body in place.

"make some noise for me, darling." she said, moving the melting ice cube against your slit. you felt every drop of water cascading down your bare thighs. the almost numbing feeling on your clit from the extreme cold that just added more pleasure into your system. and when you felt her tongue on your clit, the same time she inserted the ice cube into your pussy you knew you'd lose your mind.

and you did.

not even the shirt on your mouth could silence your pornographic moans. every gasp and every groan, every scream and every moan from every flick of her tongue to every move.

she held your legs wide open, lapping at your arousal and eating you up like a starving woman. she let her skillful tongue do everything. and even when your wetness came smeared across her lips, or when she felt the water gone warm from the ice that melted inside your cunt, she didn't stop. nothing could stop her. and you knew that not even the whole team entering could stop her.

"oh my god... mommy please. please—oh!"

your eyes rolled back, seeing faint of the stars from the heaven that you're soon about to reach. your thighs started shaking, and so did your whole body. natasha felt it, she felt you clench against her tongue and she knew you were close so she ate you in a pace that even you didn't know was humanly possible. and when that coil in your stomach tightened, and with a few hard flicks of her tongue, you exploded. you exploded with a string of loud moans and a blow of hard breaths.

she pulled you off the island, carrying you up from your aching legs and putting you to sit in front of her, your legs wide open on top of the surface. your orgasm was still raw and your panting didn't stop. your head fell back when her gaze stilled on your exposed cunt, feeling yourself melt under her eyes.

she closed the distance between you two, pulling you in by your chin that she held inches away from her. you had just came down from your high but that didn't stop her from rubbing lazily against your sensitive clit that had you squirming under her touch. the way you shuddered from her cold touch or the way your eyes closed shut with the moans you tried to swallow down, that only pushed her to add more pressure.

"oh... mmh harder..."

the way she pulled out your shirt from your mouth went in sync with her fingers entering your dripping cunt. and as soon as it did, there was a moan—a moan too loud that in no doubt peter heard—that came emitted out of your lips with no shirt to muffle it.

and when her fingers started in a merciless pace, joined by her other hand that rubbed hard and tight circles against your clit, it was like you had lost your mind. her touch, her voice, she had stripped you off of any morals. and frankly, you didn't care.

"go on darling, make some noise for mommy." she cooed when your head fell into the crook of her neck, your hands finding its way to her crimson red hair where your fingers intertwined with the soft strands of her fiery locks. "such a good girl for me."

your moans echoed around the walls of the kitchen, the sound bouncing back to your ears. "oh... ooh god natasha. mommy mmh..." you were surprised at how pornographic your moans came out to be. it amused natasha how such loud slutty moans came from someone she thought once to be as innocent as peter. and that only encouraged her to go faster making sure that she had reached every part and every angle of your tight walls. "oh my god! aah... mommy please i need you... im such a slut for you god"

"you're doing so well for me, honey." she said, finally adding in a third finger from which she felt you clench tight for. "you can handle more, can't you?"

you were screaming for her, your head falling back and your eyes rolling up. and again you can see it, the faint view of stars from the heaven you're about to reach. every pump of her fingers and every moan of her name made the view clearer and brighter.

"tell him, who do you belong to?"

and when she had added a fourth finger, stretching your tight cunt to where she could push all of it in, you saw it.

"you!" with one final scream of her name, you had felt yourself erupt from sheer pleasure. "i belong to you, natasha..." you panted, griding against her fingers to ride down your high.

you whimpered when she pulled her fingers out. feeling the longing for her fingers on your now empty hole. she placed a kiss on your lips—the first one she had—before she pulled away to suck in your juices that drenched her fingers.

you stare at her, and suddenly you feel overly aware of your naked body that stayed subjected under her sharp gaze. you pulled your shirt, and the underwear you didn't remember her pull off you. and then your morals returned. your senses came back. but still you had no remorse for your actions. no regret.

"i—uhm..." you stuttered trying to find the words as you got off the counter. should you thank her? should you apologize? "i'll... uhm. i'll just get dressed."

it was like you wanted her to leave so you could get dressed. the very little sense that returned to you wanted protect even the least of your modesty after she fucked you hard and naked on the kitchen island.

"oh we're not done sweetheart." your eyes snapped to the lady who slowly walked towards the doors. confusion hinted your face, perhaps even the smallest expectation and she could only do nothing but grin. "you should tell your boyfriend who you really belong to before i show him first hand how much of a slut you are to me." she said before opening the sliding doors. "it's going to be a long night darling. you know where to find me."

and just like that, she's gone. she's gone and it didn't even take you a second to follow her very instructions before you appear in front of her door.

some smut dialogue prompts i base most of my fics on that you can use too!

⤷ you just really want to be fucked don't you?

⤷ beg for it

⤷ you act like a slut, you're gonna be punished like a slut

⤷ i'm going to fuck you until everyone knows who you belong to

⤷ you look so pretty. too bad i'm going to have to ruin you

⤷ im gonna wreck you and ruin you for everyone else

⤷ only i can touch you, you understand?

⤷ i'll make sure the whole world hears who you belong to

⤷ go on, scream my name

⤷ such a sweet little pussy

⤷ i'll make sure i fuck you until you can't walk anymore

navigation || hollywood masterlist || marvel masterlist

pairing: scarlett johansson x female reader

warning: angst, not proof-read

prompt: "i was never enough for you"

a/n: okay, i know it's been a really really really long time, but hear me out... i've been busy </3 but i am here now babes. and i am returning with angst (as i should be) though, keep in mind, i have not written anything in a long time. so this is just horrible.

navigation || marvel masterlist || hollywood masterlist

pairing: natasha romanoff x female reader

warning: some sad things, slight angst, not proof-read, natasha romanoff as your established ex, bruce banner x natasha romanoff

prompt: "then leave!"

navigation || hollywood masterlist || marvel masterlist

pairing: scarlett johansson x female reader

warning: slight angst

prompt: "i was in love with you"

a/n: guess who's finally back. hey babes! it's been a while. school had been such a pain but here i am <3

navigation || marvel masterlist || hollywood masterlist

pairing: natasha romanoff x female reader

warning: sad angst

prompt: "for once... can't you just choose me?"

a/n: im not sure if i was able to fulfill the request but here it is. i hope you like it babe <3 i kinda switched the roles because i read it wrong :(

requested by: @unexpected-character

navigation || hollywood masterlist || marvel masterlist

pairing: scarlett johansson x female reader

warning: slight sad angst, not proof-read

prompt: "i have never loved you."

a/n: hey babes! i know this isn't too great, but i've been undergoing a lot of stress lately so i really hope you understand :( this hasn't been edited yet so please bear with any mistakes

navigation || marvel masterlist || hollywood masterlist

pairing: natasha romanoff x female reader

warning: small fluff in the beginning

summary: she said there's not a universe she won't be loving you in. liar.

a/n: hey besties! i've been suffering so much from motivation and inspiration lost especially now that school had started. so please bear with my slow posts :( also this is a horrible scrap

dialogue prompts

⤷ prompt list i

⤷ prompt list ii

⤷ prompt list iii

scarlett johansson

⤷ once upon a time || "yeah, once upon a time"

⤷ because i don't want you || "because i don't want you anymore"

⤷ i have never loved you || "i have never loved you"

⤷ i can't be yours || "i was in love with you"

navigation || hollywood masterlist || prompt lists

natasha romanoff

— a little too late (she wasnt ready. when she was, it's too late)

— happier (she said she loves you in every universe. liar)

— can't you just choose me? ("can't you just choose me?")

— a perfect goodbye ("then leave!")

— you're a good girl ("make some noise for me, darling")

— little games (you like your share of little shows)

— behind open doors (you're hers even when the doors are open)

wanda maximoff