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YES THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I MEANT WHEN I SAID NOTO DOESN’T SEXUALIZE HER LIKE SHE’S A PIECE OF MEAT OR SMTH, even the panels (i can’t add images bc im on mobile) but Noto doesn’t give Natasha an unrealistically clinched waist or huge breasts the figure he draws on natasha is perfect toned, muscular waist with an adequately proportional bust, also thighs that are not too thin or thick but TONED. That FITS as a body type because she works out and it FITS bc its nor hyper sexualized in any way and for that alone mr. noto has my vote.
you know what I couldn’t stay away i’m adding pics.
#1: He’s noto’s natasha underwater:
there’s no overdefined bust, her hips, her thighs everything is realistic. he hasn’t added a glaze or smth over her suit to make it look extra-leathery or smth the suit is realistic as are as arms look how toned they are, how strong because she’s muscular and she needs that muscle.
#2: now there’s this whole panel:
look at those realistic action moves, nothing’s over sexualized about the way she falls or how her butt looks or smth. it isn’t overtly SEXU it’s realistic. She falls and scrambles and her chest isn’t popping out of her suit. ALSO I FORGOT TO MENTION BUT NOTICE HOW HER SUIT IS FULLY ZIPPED UP. NOT ENDING AT HER CLEAVAGE BUT UP TO THE FUCKING COLLAR.
#3: also, look at how he draws/colours her backside too:
there’s nothing hypersexualized about her butt. it’s normal. her thighs her legs, everything is in motion, in action and he draws her like she’s a CHARACTER not an object of the male gaze.
#4: ok here’s more action moves and LOOK:
look at how when she’s jumping, her hands are out to brace herself, how HER HAIR IS TIED BACK IN A PONYTAIL. How she’s kicking and loving and none of it is used to emphasize her butt or smth. its just realistic body movement. Look at the angles, the way she walks. She is on a mission and her face has EXPRESSIONS that show that she’s here ON BUSINESS and not to look pretty like most BW comics do. (refer to #2 for expressive faces as well)
#5: you might say, hey eldritch-beau thats just because he uses the colour black on her like that. to which i raise you:
he’s just as good at drawing Natasha in white and its the white fucking SUIT fellas, that suit FUCKS and its realistic too and just as GOOD so its not just his style of Natasha’s suit, it’s how he draws HER. He doesn’t draw her to fit the suit, he draws the suit to fit HER.
#6: now look at how he draws her in civilian clothes. I don’t even need to tell you the difference.
see how her clothes are not unnecessarily skin-tight? see how her pants/leggings are in civies are good in the sense that they let her move, breathe and not be restricted to just her being slender and looking sexy. Her coat flaps about, her shirt doesn’t stick to her skin, her pants are loose enough and SHE IS WEARING FLATS. She’s efficient and Noto draws her with that efficiency because she is a PERSON and the drawing is consistent, her figure is consistent and she isn’t very tall but that did not make Noto make her tiny. He made her muscular and you can SEE it in the calves, in how she moves and how she runs.
#7: here’s a pic of natasha coming home after a long day and you know what?
noto is the only valid make artist allowed to draw women lounging look at how there’s literally nothing sexualized about how she just flops onto the bed, how her waist isn’t five sizes smaller than her chest when she comes into her room. And when she’s just lying down. tired, she’s exhausted and you can see that. and it’s OK. she doesn’t have to fit the male gaze and it’s FINE.
tldr: noto’s art is amazing and besides the fact that I love the way he colours, I also REALLY love the way he draws Natasha and yall need to go read his comic run asap bc its really good and heartfelt and i can’t gush enough about his art and this post will get too long if I pull up every panel so I’ll leave this post here, go check out Natasha’s 2014 run. That was Noto’s and I can assure you, you wont regret it.
no but then there’s this page! This is maybe one of my favorite pages ever.
She’s washing her face! Getting dressed! Putting on makeup! And it’s just… the most boring, routine thing ever. She piles her hair on top of her head to keep it out of her way. She awkwardly stuffs her head through the neck of her shirt (you can see her bra, but it’s just a bra! Not even sort of sexualized, and neither are her unbuttoned pants in the preceding panel!) SHE DOES THE DOOFY OPEN-YOUR-MOUTH-OR-ELSE-THE-MASCARA-WON’T-WORK THING! She’s a gorgeous, alluring master assassin, but here she’s just a person getting ready for work (who happens to have a body in the bathtub, iirc…)
To celebrate the occasion (made up by me), Let’s remember what an absolute disgusting piece of crap he is!
Before proceeding, let me remind you that Ivan is Natasha’s foster father who rescued her as a newborn and practically co-raised her with the Red Room.
Now, let’s see Exhibit #1:
He couldn’t possibly be alluding to having romantic feelings for a woman he has known since she was a newborn, who views him as her father and who he raised, right??? - a sane person will think.
To which I will respond with the Exhibit #2:
Yes, yes, you read this correctly. He wants to be a lover to his FOSTER FUCKING DAUGHTER and genuinely expects her to not reject him.
When she does though, he doesn’t learn his lesson and TRIES TO KISS HER. Exhibit #3:
And to top this all off, I offer you images of him with Baby Natasha, Exhibit #4, #5 & #6:
When I first read Deadly Origins and Name of Rose, and saw that scene, I wished Nat bashed his head to the table. Thankfully he died at the end. Though I'm not certain if he got revived later on
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Pairing: singer!natasha romanoff x model!fem reader
Content Warning: +18 content, minors do not interact, making out, tribbing, porn with plot, fic based on Madonnas and Jenny Shimizu's relationship in the 90's
w/c ≈ 2000
Natasha Romanoff was a force of nature on stage and a global icon. The world adored her, worshipped her every move, her voice, her presence. Her performances across Europe were breaking records, with people flying across countries to watch her perform. But beneath all the flashing lights and roaring crowds, her mind was always drawn back to you, an undeniable craving pulling at her whenever you were apart.
Tonight, after another concert in Paris, that craving was stronger than ever. The encore had barely ended, the applause still ringing in her ears when she slipped away backstage, grabbing her phone with a hunger she couldn't ignore. She dialled your number, her fingers trembling slightly. When you answered, your voice soft and teasing, it sent a spark of desire straight through her. "Hey, superstar," you greeted, a smile in your voice. "How was the show?"
Natasha leaned against the dressing room counter, her heartbeat quickening just at the sound of you. "It was fine," she murmured, her tone low and sultry, the music she had just performed was still thrumming in her ears. "But it would’ve been better if you were here." A beat of silence lingered before you chuckled, the sound rich and knowing. "Missing me already?"
"I need you," Natasha breathed, her voice husky with intent. There was no point in pretending, she didn’t just miss you, she needed you. Every muscle in her body was aching with the memory of your touch, your skin, the way you felt beneath her. "Get on the first flight. Come to me."
It wasn’t the first time Natasha had summoned you like this, calling you away from your world of flashing cameras and runways to be at her side, even if only for one night. You were both high-profile figures, always on the move, but when she called, you came. Every time.
You could hear the command in her voice, the silent plea, and it stirred something deep inside you. "I’ll be there," you replied, and hung up, your pulse quickening with anticipation.
-
Within hours, you were on a plane, Paris-bound, the city lights glowing in the distance as the private car Natasha had sent waited at the airport to collect you. The car sped through the quiet, rain-slicked streets of Paris until it finally pulled up at the discreet hotel where she was staying. The driver escorted you up to Natasha’s penthouse suite. No security checks and no questions asked. You were whisked through the lobby with the kind of efficiency that came with being connected to a world-class celebrity.
The door to her suite opened just as you arrived. There she stood, leaning against the doorframe, her hair still slightly damp from the post-show shower. She looked at you with a smouldering gaze, wearing nothing but a silk robe that hung loosely around her figure. "You made it," Natasha purred, her eyes dark with desire as they roamed over you, drinking you in. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," you teased, stepping inside, the door clicking shut behind you as she pulled you in close, her lips crashing against yours with an urgency that told you everything. Natasha never wasted time on words when she could show you exactly what she wanted.
You barely had time to breathe as she pressed you against the nearest wall, her hands already slipping beneath the fabric of your coat, fingers tracing the edges of your body with practised precision. "I’ve been thinking about this all night," she whispered, her lips brushing against your neck, "thinking about you." The heat between you grew instantly, the air charged with a tension that neither of you bothered to fight. Natasha’s hands were everywhere, possessive, demanding, and you could feel her need in every touch.
The bed was only steps away, but Natasha didn't have the patience to make it there just yet. She wanted to feel you, to have you right here, right now. Your clothes were gone in a matter of moments, discarded carelessly as she led you to the edge of the bed.
She pushed you down, crawling over you, her weight pressing you into the plush mattress. "You know what I want," she whispered, her voice thick with desire as her fingers began tracing patterns along your thighs. You bit back a moan as she took control, her touch skilled, knowing exactly how to unravel you.
Your hands travelled north, tracing the soft skin of her thighs and hips before slipping over the delicate fabric of her silk robe. With a gentle tug, you loosened the knot at her waist, the robe falling open with ease. Though you had seen Natasha naked before, the sight of her always took your breath away. Your eyes lingered on her chest, her nipples already hardened by the cool air. Leaning in, you pressed your lips to one, the warmth of your mouth a sharp contrast to the cold, drawing a low, satisfied groan from her.
As your mouth lavished attention on her sensitive skin, you could feel Natasha's body tense and relax beneath your touch. Her fingers tangled in your hair, a quiet gasp escaping her lips. Her back arched slightly, pressing her chest into you, silently begging for more. "You always know exactly what I need," Natasha whispered, her voice breathless.
You responded by pressing a soft kiss to her sternum, your lips tracing the delicate line of her collarbone. The cool air of the room made each warm touch even more intense. You pulled her closer, the silk robe slipping down her shoulders. The soft fabric gilded against her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
You paused for a moment, your gaze meeting hers. Tell me what you want," you whispered against her skin, your breath sending shivers through her. Natasha's lips curved into a soft smile as she leaned back,"I want to feel you," she murmured, her voice dropping lower. "All of you." With that, you laid down again and let her take charge. She repositioned your bodies, guided your thigh upward and positioned herself above you. The shift of her body, the warmth and weight of her above you, left you breathless. Natasha shuddered as she felt her clitoris nudge against yours, your gasp and indication that you were as sensitive as she was.
Your hands found their place on her hips, fingers grazing the delicate skin. She shivered slightly at your touch, and the sensation made your heart pound harder. You guided her slowly, savouring the way her body pressed against yours, the rhythm between you growing more deliberate.
With every slow movement, there were new sounds emitting from both of you. The way her eyes fluttered shut, the soft gasp that escaped her lips, these were moments you laid awake at night thinking about. You mirrored her pace, each motion purposeful, dragging out the delicious pleasure.
“You feel so good,” she whispered, her voice heavy with desire. There was something raw and honest in her tone that made your stomach tighten with want. You responded without words, your hands roaming across her body, tracing the line of her spine before gently pulling her down closer to you. Her soft skin, warm and inviting, pressed against you, and the sensation of being so close, so connected, sent a rush through your entire body.
Natasha’s hips began to move with more intent, her pace quickening as the friction between you intensified. Her head tilted back slightly, exposing the curve of her neck. You leaned forward, brushing your lips against her throat, the soft, salty taste of her skin grounding you in the moment. As her body rocked against yours, the air between you grew charged, each breath shared, each touch deliberate. You could feel her pulse quickening under your fingertips as she let herself get lost in the rhythm you had created together.
When she opened her eyes again, the intensity in her gaze made your heart skip a beat. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice raw with need. “I won’t,” you murmured, your words soft but filled with the same urgency that coursed through both of you.
Natasha’s hands trailed down your sides, her touch light and teasing, yet insistent. The friction between your bodies was almost overwhelming now, every subtle movement drawing you both closer to the edge. You could feel her tensing, the tension coiling tighter in both of you.“God, you’re incredible,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath against her skin.
Her response was a soft moan, her forehead pressing against yours as she let herself get lost in the sensation. You could feel her trembling, her body responding to every movement, every touch, and the knowledge of how close she was only intensified your own pleasure.
The rhythm between you grew more frantic, bodies pressing together with increasing urgency. You were both teetering on the edge, the pleasure building into something too powerful to hold back any longer. Natasha’s breath hitched, her hips moving with even more need, and you felt the moment of tension just before she came undone. Her body trembled above you, her moans breaking into soft gasps as the pleasure overtook her. The sight and sound of her, completely lost in the moment, sent you over the edge with her. Your own release crashed over you, the sensation overwhelming as you held her close, both of you riding out the waves of pleasure together.
As the intensity of the moment faded, you both collapsed into each other, breathing hard, bodies still trembling. The room felt quieter now, the tension replaced by a soft, lingering warmth. Natasha stayed curled up against you, her skin warm and flushed. For a moment, neither of you spoke, content to just lie there in the afterglow, feeling each other’s presence.
Finally, Natasha broke the silence, her voice soft and full of affection. “You always know how to take my breath away.” You chuckled, pressing a kiss to her damp forehead, feeling the steady rhythm of her heart against yours. “You do the same to me.”
-
The first rays of morning light filtered through the curtains when you woke, the air still thick with the scent of her perfume and the aftermath of last night. Natasha was already up, sitting at the edge of the bed, her back to you as she stared out the window at the city below, wrapped in her robe.
She sensed your stirring and turned, her expression soft, but that guarded look already creeping back into her eyes. "I have to leave soon," she said quietly. There was a flicker of regret in her voice, but it was hidden behind the wall she's built between you. "The tour continues."
You sat up, the sheets falling around your waist. You understood the deal between you, the unspoken rules. You were her escape, her indulgence in the moments when the spotlight grew too bright, but nothing more. There was no room for more. "I know," you replied, rising from the bed, already reaching for your clothes. There was no need for affection, no lingering goodbyes. You both knew the routine.
As you dressed, you caught her watching you, her gaze lingering longer than it usually did. But she didn’t say anything, didn’t try to stop you. Natasha was always careful to keep you at arm’s length, no matter how close she pulled you at night. With a final glance, you walked to the door, the cool handle in your palm. "Good luck with the next show." Natasha nodded, her lips curving into a small, almost sad smile.
"Thanks."
And with that, you left, the heavy door clicking shut behind you as you slipped back into your world, leaving Natasha Romanoff to continue in hers. But you both knew it wouldn’t be long before she called again. And when she did, you'd be there, ready to fall into her arms, if only for one more night.
I also want to bring attention to how JAMES BUCKY MOTHERFUCKING BARNES called NATASHA who he literally just fucked AND asked her if she’d s still be at HIS HOUSE when he comes back
I know this is a "your partner should also be your best friend" thing and I love that, but is it bad my first thought when I saw this was "finally they did the 'historians be like: Achilles and his best friend Patroculous' thing to a straight couple"
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