Summary: You just started your job at the House of M fashion mag, and the boss’s odd daughter grows attached to you... AKA, Wanda gets away with being crazy because she's pretty.
Words: 4.1k
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut in future parts, yandere!wanda, comically oblivious Reader (like I’m talking stupid), stalking, implied murder, some creepy elements, eventual mutual obsession, Reader sleeps with someone else but it's not super explicit, (lmk if I missed any!)
AN: I slowly started to be seducted by her!!! idk anything about magazine companies so don’t think too hard ab all that 😭 Also Wanda’s shorter than Reader cuz I said so. Anyway, have my crazy femme Wanda fic <3 (lowkey not my best writing but I had fun w this! I may not have been completely on schedule this month, but I have this!)
It’s been a long but rewarding week. You spent days pulling together your portfolio, resume, and references. Most of your experience came from freelance work with smaller magazines, along with a brief stint at Thunderbolts magazine. You were fired for getting caught fucking the Editor in Chief, Valentina, in her office. But thankfully, she pulled some strings to exclude that from the HR file, making it out to look like you simply got laid off due to excessive staffing.
After a few tense rounds of interviews, you landed a position at House of M, the biggest name in the fashion magazine industry. Today you wrapped up orientation and were called into Erik Lensherr’s office. He congratulated you, outlined your first tasks, and dismissed you with a brisk nod.
You swung the door open to leave… only for it to stop abruptly. Papers went flying, followed by a startled, feminine squeal.
Your eyes widened. On the other side of the door sat a woman with auburn hair, flustered and scrambling to collect her things.
“Oh my gosh—! I’m so sorry!” she stammered, you could hear a faint accent on her tongue. Her hands shook as she tried to gather the scattered papers.
You immediately knelt beside her, resting a hand gently over hers. “No, no, that was my bad. You alright?”
She froze at your touch, lifting her head. Dazzling green eyes locked on yours. “I— I’m fine, I just—”
“Oh shit, your nose is bleeding!” you interrupted, eyes widening as you pulled a handkerchief from your pocket. Brushing a strand of hair away, you cupped her cheek and dabbed carefully at the blood.
“All better now, sweetheart. Keep this, okay?” You smiled, offering your hand to help her up.
She blinked at it before finally taking it, her grip soft and hesitant. Rising to her feet with the cloth still pressed to her nose, she gave you a shy smile. “Thank you, you’re very... kind…”
“Really, it’s no problem,” you reassured, crouching again to scoop up the loose pages and straighten them.
“Ah! Those are mine,” came a deep voice from behind. You turned to find Erik himself. “I see you’ve met my daughter, Wanda.”
Your stomach dropped. Oh god. You’d just smashed a door into your boss’s daughter. “Sir— I… I didn’t realize, I’m so sorry, it was an accident—”
Erik waved it off with a smirk. “My girl’s a clumsy one. I should invest in a glass door so we could see her coming.” Taking the papers from your hands, he added, “Good to see you’re getting acquainted.” Then, as quickly as he arrived, he walked away.
You turned back, embarrassed, and held out your hand. “I’m Y/N. I hope we didn’t get off on the wrong foot, Wanda. So… you work here too?”
Wanda nodded, her lips twitching into a small smile as she shook your hand (tighter than most would.) “yeah, Im just… I answer phones and run errands, mostly.” Her voice was shy, wavering.
“Well… I officially start tomorrow,” you said warmly. “Guess we’ll be seeing more of each other, huh?”
Her nod was almost frantic. “Yes! I’m here every day. Let me know if you need anything. Literally anything! Morning or night, I’ll be around.”
You tilted your head, amused by her adorable eagerness. She really was pretty up close. With those emerald eyes and pearly smile paired with that cute little blouse, she was quite easy on the eyes (and of course, you’d never deny yourself some eye candy).
You shook the thought away, just grateful to have made your first friend. “Thanks, love. I like your rings by the way!”
Blood rushed to her cheeks as she stammered her gratitude. Reluctantly, she let your hand go as you exchanged goodbyes.
When you left, Wanda stood in the hallway, gripping your handkerchief tight to her chest. Her eyes sparkled as she watched you disappear from view, her lips curling into a manic grin.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
As the weeks folded into one another, your friendship with Wanda grew in small, amusing ways.
It started with the cleaning. Every morning when you arrived, your desk gleamed like glass. She’d wiped it down herself, three times a day. (Morning, afternoon, and evening.) “Germs are no joke,” she’d say, wrinkling her nose in mock disapproval. Sometimes you caught her sneaking a spritz of disinfectant on your keyboard while you were mid sentence. You pretended to protest, but truthfully, you’d started to find comfort in it.
Then came lunch. She memorized your order from the shawarma place down the block, right down to the way you liked extra garlic sauce on the side. Eventually, you stopped placing your own order at all, she’d appear at your desk with a takeout bag before the clock even struck noon. “So you can spend the whole hour with me,” she’d explain with a bashful grin. You told yourself she was just being thoughtful, but it became a ritual you couldn’t imagine skipping.
Wanda also had a knack for finding things you lost. It was uncanny. A chewed up pen one day, your favorite claw clip the next. She found your missing paperbacks, your expensive sunglasses, even your everyday hairbrush when it slipped out of your tote. Each discovery came with that same sheepish, proud smile.
But the moment that really stayed with you was the wallet.
You’d torn your desk apart looking for it, checked under the keyboard, under stacks of reports, even your chair cushion. You were convinced you’d dropped it on the train. Wanda only watched from her desk with a little halfsmile. “Don’t worry,” she said, standing up. “I’ll find it.”
You didn’t think much of it. But a few hours later, there she was at your cubicle, wallet in hand, grinning like a cat with cream. “You found it?!” you gasped, rushing up and hugging her tight.
She sighed happily, inhaling your perfume, and let her head rest on your shoulder. “I put a tracker in here awhile back. Some pickpocket had it across the city, but I took care of him,” she murmured dreamily.
You pulled back and glanced at her knuckles. They were bruised, like she’d been in a scuffle. “Jesus, Wanda…” you said, half scold, half awed.
She went still for a beat, realizing what slipped out, but before she could explain you were already smiling.
“You’re so thoughtful!” you told her, hugging her again on autopilot. “I’m the absolute worst at keeping track of things. Thank you!”
She whispered, almost too quiet to hear, “I told you I’d do anything for you.”
And your favorite part of your friendship was the morning ritual.
Every day, without fail, Wanda waited for you at the front desk with a coffee exactly how you liked it. Two sugars, one cream, and no lid (because you hated the way it trapped the steam).
She’d smile like she’d been waiting all night just to hand it to you. You’d joke that she was spoiling you. She’d only shrug and say, “You deserve it.”
But after the wallet incident, things changed.
One morning, when you opened your apartment door, she was already there. Standing in the hallway like a dream, holding two coffees that steamed in the cool air. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw you. “Good morning!” she chirped, practically vibrating with excitement.
You blinked in surprise. “Wanda? What are you— how did you even find—”
“I used the tracker,” she said, grinning proudly as if she’d just solved a riddle. “After yesterday, I wanted to make sure no one ever messes with you ever again. So… we can come to work together every day now!”
There was something so earnest about the way she said it. If it were anyone else, you’d be terrified. But right now? You couldn’t even bring yourself to be creeped out.
I mean, how could you? It was Wanda.
You laughed instead, taking one of the cups from her. “You’re ridiculous,” you said softly, smiling. Then, teasing, “Guess I can finally say I’ve got the prettiest bodyguard in the city.”
Her face went pink, and she pressed her lips together to keep from smiling too hard. “You do,” she said quietly, almost possessively, but you didn’t hear.
From that morning on, you stopped riding the subway alone, there and back. She was always around, waiting in the same spot, holding your coffee, walking a half step behind you on the sidewalk like a silent promise. It became routine. Natural. And every time you saw her standing there, heart beating fast, you realized you didn’t want to imagine your walks without her.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
On a sunny Thursday morning, the July issue finally hit shelves, slipped into mailboxes, and stacked across coffee tables everywhere.
Buried on a random page in tiny font was your very first contribution. Just three neat paragraphs about a celebrity’s new lingerie line. It wasn’t much, but seeing your name in print made your chest ache with pride. Your coworkers seemed genuinely excited too.
When the day ended at 5, they invited you out for drinks to celebrate, which you accepted without hesitation, glad you finally felt part of the team.
“Is Wanda coming?” you asked casually while gathering your things.
An awkward silence settled over the group. They exchanged glances, the kind that said more than words ever could. Finally, Emma cleared her throat. “These outings are more for us creatives… you know? Not…” She let the rest trail off.
You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded, filling in the blanks yourself. “Oh… Right… Got it. I’ll still say bye to Wanda though. I’ll meet you guys out front!”
With your bag slung over your shoulder, you walked to the front desk. Wanda perked up at the sight of you, smile already waiting.
“Hey! I’m heading out with the team tonight, so you don’t need to walk me home. I wanted to invite you but they said… um…” You hesitated when you saw her little pout and eager eyes, then rushed out, “Or I could totally cancel with them and hang with you instead if you’d rather?”
Her eyes shimmered, the glossy kind of shine that made your chest pinch. “Really? You’d do that for me…?” she whispered, then quickly shook her head.
“No, no detka. You should go. Have fun with them. I mean it!” She scrambled the words out before she could change her mind.
Relief spread through you. “Thanks for understanding, Wanda. You’re the best.” Leaning down, you hugged her and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. She froze, audibly gasping.
Your coworkers shouted from the elevator, pulling your attention. You smiled one last time. “I’ll see you in the morning!”
The doors slid shut, leaving Wanda alone at the desk, still clutching the side of her face where you’d kissed her.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The place was nicer than the usual bar+grills you knew. There were sleek booths, dim lights, cocktails with names you couldn’t pronounce. You lost track of how many shots you’d taken. Someone had explained the initiation rule was your page number times your age as a decimal, and after a few rounds you stopped trying to do the math. Needless to say, you were drunk.
You were slouched on the side of the booth with Scott and Jean, answering the group’s endless questions about yourself. Somewhere between anecdotes, you admitted you were a lesbian.
Scott let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, damn.”
Jean laughed, leaning into him. “We were gonna ask if you wanted to join us in the bedroom tonight… but that’s alright.”
You waved them off with a sloppy grin. “Oh, nahhh, it’s cool you’re into that, but I’m a monogamy kinda gal. Hope you guys find a third though!”
Raven perked up, mischief in her eyes. “Ooooh, I’ve got a question! If you only want one girl, what’s your type?”
You blew a raspberry and threw your head back. “Oof. That’s a hard one! Not sure.”
“Oh come onnn,” Raven pressed. “We work at a fashion mag! There’s gotta at least be a kinda look that makes you weak in the knees.”
You tapped your chin, thinking hard. “Hmm… I like thighs and nice legs a lot, so anything with short skirts or daisy dukes is an immediate yes. And leather, I guess! Grungy leather jackets and stuff are cool…” You trailed off, then added dreamily, “But honestly? Pretty girls can rock anything. I just… love femmes. So pretty. Girls…”
The table erupted into laughter at your drunken honesty.
Illyana tilted her head, resting her chin in her hand as she looked you over. “So basically,” she smirked, “I’m your type.”
You squinted at her through the haze, scanning her look. Long blonde hair, tiny shorts with a studded belt, a low cut cropped tank, and a leather vest more decorative than practical. You chuckled. “Oh damn… I guess you are!”
Illyana’s smirk widened at your answer. She leaned across the table just far enough for the overhead lights to catch on her lip gloss. “Good to know,” she purred, raising her glass. “To your first article… and to being my type too.”
The group whooped and clinked glasses, the sound sharp and bright in your fuzzy head. You laughed along, cheeks hot, though whether it was from the alcohol, the attention, or both, you couldn’t tell.
Somewhere along the night you drifted over to Illyana’s side of the booth. Conversation blurred into cheeky flirting and subtle touches, her thigh brushing yours, her fingers tapping your knee. The haze of liquor softened everything.
She went to the bathroom after some drinks, and when she got back, she didn’t slide back into her seat, but instead dropped herself into your lap, giggling.
“Guys, I just ran into some girl in the bathroom who looked exactly like Wanda!” She tossed her hair back, eyes glittering as she ran her hands through yours. “She told me to stay away from you or I’d regret it. Somethin like that.”
“Whattt??? no wayyy,” you cackled, just as drunk but still clinging to a thread of rational thought. “You’re definitely hammered. Come on, let’s get you home before you pass out here.”
Grabbing both of your bags, you slid out the booth, helping her to her feet with your arm firm around her waist. Together you made your way toward the door, until you bumped into someone in a black hoodie.
“Shit, sorry—” you started, blinking hard, trying to focus through the blur. Your foggy brain registered her face and a dopey smile spread across your lips. “Oh hey, you look like this girl I know!”
The hooded figure didn’t respond. She just froze for a beat, then pushed past you and vanished into the crowd. You shrugged, too drunk to think much of it.
“Have a great night!” you called cheerily into the sea of people, hoping she heard you.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The night ended exactly how you figured it would. By 2AM you were at Illyana’s, tangled up in her sheets, too buzzed to think of anything except the heat of her skin.
Clothes scattered across the floor in a frantic blur. Your mouth worked between her thighs, kissing, biting, teasing until she came twice on your tongue and fingers. When you strapped up, she begged and you gave her what she wanted. Pounding into her from behind, her nails tearing at the sheets as she screamed your name.
In the middle of it, a loud slam echoed through the apartment. You froze, heart skipping. “What was that?”
“Probably the neighbor,” Illyana gasped, arching back into you. “Don’t care. Harder.”
So you did exactly that. And she came apart again and again beneath you till exhaustion.
Sleep barely caught you both. You got maybe an hour of rest before her alarm went off at 4:30. Groaning, you blinked to see her already moving around the room.
“Mornin…” you yawned, stretching out sore muscles. “Mm… why so early?”
She grabbed a towel and workout clothes, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Shower, run, then cafe before my pastry sells out. These legs don’t come from sitting on my ass all day.” She smirked, disappearing into the bathroom as the shower kicked on. “This was fun, though. Feed my cats on your way out? Food’s in the pantry.”
Still half asleep, you mumbled your agreement. By the time you dressed, her two cats (one orange, one black) had circled your ankles, purring. You crouched to pet them, then poured their kibble.
You noticed that the living room window was cracked open, which was odd since it wasn’t when you got in. Huh… Illyana must’ve wanted to air out the place while you were asleep. You shrugged, closed it, then slipped out into the chilly morning with an empty stomach.
Back at your place, you poured yourself some cereal, not even bothering with the milk, and munched on it like kibble before stumbling into your room. But you stopped short.
On your nightstand sat a glass of water, condensation still clinging to the sides, and two Advil already laid out neatly beside it.
You frowned. You definitely didn’t remember putting those there. And the water was too cold, too fresh, to have been sitting all day and night…
But maybe you did and just forgot? The AC probably kept the water cool or something.
Shrugging it off, you swallowed the pills, drained the glass, and collapsed back into bed.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You managed to squeeze in another hour of sleep before dragging yourself out of bed to shower and get dressed. By seven o’clock sharp, you opened your door, ready to see Wanda with your usual coffee. And you did.
But today was different.
She handed you the cup, along with a warm bagel sandwich. “Morning malyshka! I figured you’d need a little something extra after your night out. So… what did you end up doing after the bar?”
You accepted the offerings with a grateful smile. “Thank you, I um…” The words stuck in your throat, your attention slipping elsewhere.
Because Wanda wasn’t in her usual clean slacks and cute top. She wore a denim mini skirt… dangerously short, the kind that could flash an audience with the wrong step. Then there was the scarlet corset that supported her rack perfectly. Over it was a cropped leather jacket, light enough to show off the shape beneath. Her look was finished with those silver rings you loved and a necklace that drew the eye right to her cleavage.
You mentally slapped yourself. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the leftover haze from your lustful night, but you couldn’t stop staring. You forced yourself to look away, clearing your throat.
“It was good! The bar was good, uh… I went to Illyana’s after and…” You shook your head, heat crawling up your neck. “What’s, um— what’s with the new look? It’s nice. It’s great. Really really good.”
Her grin widened, batting her eyelashes innocently. “I’ve been getting ideas off Pinterest and thought I’d finally change up my wardrobe. Do you like it?”
“I fucking love it,” you blurted, breathless.
Only then did you really take in her face. Her lips were a subtle, glossy pink, and her lashes were long and full. But her eyes… though bright, were shadowed with exhaustion. Concern tugged at you, and you lifted a hand to cup her cheek. “Wanda, did you get enough sleep last night? You look worn out, honey…”
She blushed and looked down, though she leaned into your touch. “Yeah, I… I went home after work. Didn’t go anywhere else. Just stayed in bed. Slept.”
You weren’t entirely convinced. But you brushed it off. She probably stayed up reading fanfiction, too embarrassed to admit it.
Smiling softly, you tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, we should get going. Maybe this coffee can wake us both up.”
You held out your arm. She hesitated for a beat, then looped hers through yours, clinging close as the two of you set off for the day.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
On the walk, you noticed faint bruises on her knees and scrapes along her hands. Likely just from tripping or something silly, Wanda was clumsy like that. Still, there was something about the ruggedness that you found strangely cute.
The subway was another story. Packed shoulder to shoulder, everyone pressed together like sardines, alarms immediately went off in your head. As much as you adored her little rebrand, it painted a giant target for creeps. And while Wanda was more than capable of handling herself, you weren’t about to risk some weirdo’s hand sliding up her skirt or grabbing her ass.
The paranoia won out. You positioned her in front of you as the two of you squeezed into the car. There were no seats, so you reached up to grip one of the overhead poles, but even in her heeled boots, Wanda couldn’t quite reach.
“I got you,” you murmured in her ear, low and steady. “Just hold onto my arm.”
“Huh?” she asked, confused. Until you wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in. She gave a startled little yelp, but didn’t resist as your hand settled firmly around her.
She leaned back against you, her spine flush with your chest, fingers curling lightly around your forearm.
She was so sweet, so relentlessly caring toward you every single day. It only felt fair to protect her in return… right?
Her hair brushed your cheek, and before you could stop yourself, you breathed in. Her perfume hit you instantly. Ocean, earth, and something like pure sex appeal. A sound slipped out your throat, more a groan than a sigh. “Fucking hell, Wanda… did you start using a new perfume?”
She stiffened in your hold. “Y-yeah! Um… is it not good? Do you not like it?” Her voice wavered, lips trembling as though the answer mattered more than life itself.
Instead of replying, you buried your nose against her neck, inhaling deeper. The scent clung to her skin, dizzying. “God, that’s amazing… dangerous even. Fuck, don’t let anyone else catch a heavy whiff of that. They might never leave you alone.”
Her breath hitched, though she tried to play it off with a giggle. “Okay, creep… we’re in public, remember?” she teased, one hand reaching back to brush lightly against your side.
You chuckled, your mouth to her ear. “Mhm. Maybe if everyone thinks we’re together, it’ll scare off the real creeps.” You pressed a kiss to her temple before lifting your gaze back to the crowd, scanning it with sharp vigilance, completely unaware of the riot you’d just set off inside her chest.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
When you arrived at the office, Illyana’s cubicle sat empty. Strange… She was usually the first one in.
Sue caught the look on your face as she passed, patting your shoulder. “Chin up, kid. She texted saying she’s not coming anymore. Something about finding a new job? I think she’s being manic or something. Just relax, it’s not like she’s dead.”
“Oh man…” you frowned. “That’s weird. She told me this morning she’d see me here, and she seemed totally fine. She didn’t even text me… I hope I didn’t do something wrong.”
Beside you, Wanda shifted on her feet, almost bouncing with agitation. “You could never do anything wrong! You’re perfect! Some people just…” She hesitated, eyes flicking away before she added softly, “Some people just can’t handle flying too close to the sun.”
You laughed at that, your frown easing into a smile. “Am I supposed to be the sun?”
Her gaze snapped up to yours, fingers nervously twiddling, but her expression was pure adoration. “Mhm. Everything revolves around you. All the time.”
You tilted your head, not entirely sure what she meant, but her sweetness warmed you all the same. Smiling, you pulled her into a hug, inhaling her scent once more before the workday swallowed you both. “Thanks, Wanda. You’re so damn sweet.”
At lunchtime, you rolled an office chair up to Wanda’s desk, where she already had your food waiting.
“Sooo I was thinking…” you leaned in, taking a sip of your drink. “It’s Friday. No work tomorrow. And since you didn’t get to come out yesterday, maybe you and I could hang out tonight? You know, past just our walks home together. My place is pretty small, so maybe I could walk you home for once and hang out there, if that’s okay?”
She froze, wide eyed, like the idea had shortcircuited her brain. Then she nodded so fast it was almost comical. “Yes, of course! Anything you want! My place, your place, a cafe, a cemetery. I’ll go anywhere with you.”
Your grin widened at her intense enthusiasm , charmed more than anything. “Great! We could order food and watch a movie or something.”
She nodded again, clutching her hands together like she could barely contain herself. “Yes…” she whispered, her whole body buzzing with excitement.
A/N: I'm genuinely ashamed at how long this took me to write... thank you @hauntedkittenfun for the request and the incredible patience lol
Word Count: 2800+
You were out with Steve, walking around the grocery store looking for snacks. Tonight was movie night. It was a tradition Steve and Natasha had for years and when you joined the Avengers, it didn't take long before they invited you to join. The three of you were basically inseparable. Always goofing around together, flirting and teasing.
'Found it! Steve chirped, dropping two big bags of popcorn in the shopping cart you were pushing.
'Great, I think that's about it' you said, scanning the cart to make sure you had everything.
The both of you loaded your shopping bags in the car and drove back to the compound.
You glanced over at Steve who was sitting in the passenger seat, looking all pretty.
'Hey, eyes on the road,' he joked
'Aye aye, captain,' you grinned back
When you arrived home, you expected Nat to come out and help you put the groceries away, but she was nowhere to be found.
You had agreed to watch the movie in the living room since that room had the biggest TV. So that's where you decided to look first.
'Do you...do you hear something?' Steve mumbled halfway down the hall.
'No...what do you hear?' you asked Steve, knowing his super hearing never let him down.
'I...uhm...' there was an undeniable blush creeping up Steve's cheeks, and quite frankly...it was adorable.
You raised your brow, curious at what he was hearing, so you walked closer to his door.
As you got closer to the living room, you started hearing it too. Soft moans combined with high-pitched ones.
It couldn't be? Right?
Well, only one way to find out. Your hand moved faster than your brain as you threw open the door, catching Nat in the middle of the couch with her hand between her legs, watching a very...interesting piece of film.
"That's not the movie we agreed on missy," you grinned.
Steve stood behind you red as a tomato and very quiet.
“I thought I had more time before you guys came home...” Nat pouted. She didn't look embarrassed at all. It was almost like she wanted to get caught...
'Is that so?' you teased, 'Well, don't let us spoil your fun...'
'Want me to keep going?' she asked innocently
'Hmm...' you dared.
'Only if you guys join me...'
You raised your brow again, only a tiny bit surprised at her request.
'What do you think, Stevie?' you asked, looking slightly over your shoulder.
He was a mess already. His cock had been straining against his pants since he heard the sounds from the hallway.
You backed up a bit into him, letting your ass rub slightly against his bulge as you tangled your fingers in his hair.
'Should we join her?'
You slowly guided Steve to the couch with you. You could tell he was having trouble deciding where to look; you, Nat, or the girl wantonly pounding her own pussy with a considerably large sex toy on the television.
The decision was made quite rapidly when said girl suddenly let out a particularly loud moan. The three of you simultaneously turned your heads toward the screen, just in time to catch the girl squirt all over her bed.
'Christ...' Steve nervously mumbled, 'there's no way that's real...'
It was Natasha's turn to raise her brow, as she gave Steve a curious look.
'Sure it is, Stevie...why wouldn't it be real?'
'It's just...it's so...I just don't buy.' He stated
'Steve, I'm telling you it's real, I swear. It's called squirting.' she explained
'Oh yeah? Well...prove it then.' He dared, clearly gaining a bit more confidence as his brain turned to full on horny-mode
'Yeah? Want me to show you?' she drawled
'Hmm...'
Natasha wasted no time in turning off the TV and placing herself down in the middle of the coffee table.
You and Steve plopped down on the couch, watching Natasha as she started teasing her fingers up and down her folds before sliding two of them inside her pussy in one swift motion.
She had been playing with herself for quite some time before she got caught and it had left her wetter than ever.
The sight of her with her legs spread and her head thrown back is better than any porn video you'd ever seen. You couldn't help but slide your hand down to your crotch, squeezing your bulge.
'You can't do it, Nat.' Steve taunted, trying to keep his voice steady.
fucking brat, you thought.
'O-oh no?...' she moaned, speeding up her movements.
Barely a couple seconds later she let wailed out as she started squirting so hard you felt your dick twitch, making you groan.
You looked over to Steve and noticed his face was a little wet...
'That's what you get for calling me a liar...' Nat mumbled cheekily, making you chuckle.
'Look at that, Stevie, Nat's not the only one who is wet anymore...' you laughed, pressing a kiss against his cheek to sneak a taste.
'I wanna see that again...' was all that Steve said before getting on his knees in front of Nat.
'Hey, don't get greedy...sharing is caring, Stevie,' you pouted, taking a seat next to him as he gave you a warm smile.
'You're right...' he mumbled, pulling you closer, 'C'mere...'
Steve pressed a needy kiss to your lips as you felt his big hands rub all over your crotch, making you groan in his mouth.
'Can you...?' he questioned, glancing over to Natasha's glistening pussy. 'You're better at this...show me how to do it...'
God. How could anyone ever say no to him?
Your eyes moved from Steve's pleading gaze to Nat's desperate one.
'Can I?' you checked, although you were pretty sure what the answer was gonna be.
'Please...' she whined, wiggling her hips a little.
'Open up,' you told Steve before gently putting two of your fingers into his greedy mouth. He sucked on them eagerly, making your cock twitch again.
'Take my cock out,' you commanded, 'but keep your eyes on her pussy, you don't wanna miss anything now do you, Stevie?'
'No, Sir' he whispered after he released your fingers, moving quickly to do as he was told.
You rubbed your spit-covered fingers over Nat’s clit first, making her shudder.
'See that, that's a very important spot when you wanna make her cum,' you explained as Steve took out your throbbing cock.
'But we don't wanna wear her out too soon, do we?' you taunted, letting your finger slide down a bit before stopping at her dripping hole.
'No, we wanna get her a little desperate first...' your finger teased around her entrance.
You looked at Steve to see his eyes glued on Natasha's pussy just like you told him to, all while he kept stroking your cock perfectly.
'Good boy, Stevie...' you praised lowly, 'now this next part is very important...'
You slowly pushed both fingers inside of her, immediately curling them up against that sensitive, spongy spot, making her whine and buck her hips a bit.
'Theeerree we go...' you chuckled, moving your fingers a little.
'This spot right here, Stevie....that's a very important one when you wanna make her squirt...'
Natasha moaned louder as you kept pumping your fingers inside of her. You slowly picked up the pace, hitting her spot a bit rougher each time.
'Feel that pressure build, baby?' you looked at Nat.
'Yeah...fuck...oh...' she whined, throwing her head back again.
Your free hand reached down to stop Steve's movements. You brought his hand up to your mouth and sucked his fingers
'Still watching, Stevie? The next part is gonna be really fun...' you groaned as you felt his grip tighten on your cock.
All he could do was nod furiously as he watched you move even quicker. Natasha let out another loud moan and before you knew it she was squirting again.
'That's a good fucking girl,' you groaned.
Steve had halted his movements. Too mesmerized to focus on jerking you off.
When Nat blinked her eyes back open she noticed both you and Steve and a couple drops on your shirts and faces.
She let out a tired giggle, hiding her face in embarrassing as she let herself lay back on the coffee table.
‘Oh my god…’ she mumbles with her hands still covering her face. ‘I wanna apologize but technically it’s really not my fault…’
'Hmm...don't be embarrassed, baby' you chuckle, hungrily licking your fingers clean. 'Tastes even sweeter than the popcorn...'
"I wanna try..." Steve mumbled, pushing your hand away to make room for his own.
Nat immediately moans at the touch, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as Steve stuffs his large fingers in her pussy.
'M'sensitive, Stevie...' she whines.
'Yeah? What if I find that special spot, huh? Is it sensitive there?' he taunted, his demeanor switching from subby to dominant in an instant as he wiggled his fingers a bit, immediately hitting the spot he was talking about.
Natasha keened in response, arching her back off the table as she squirted again.
'Fuccckkk!!' she whined as Steve moved his other hand to press on her lower belly, stretching out his thumb to rub circles over her swollen clit.
'SHIT I'M CUMMING! DADDY!' she screamed out, squirting even harder than before.
Steve fingered her through her orgasm with the smuggest of smiles before pulling his fingers out of her.
He was going to lick them clean, but you grabbed his hand and put his fingers in your own mouth instead, moaning as you tastes Nat's wetness.
'Don't forget who's in charge here, baby.' you teased before pulling him in for a dirty kiss.
'Lay down.' You commanded him and he happily obliged, wiggling off his jeans in the process.
You turned to Nat, who was just starting to come back to her senses before you kissed her breathless again.
'Get on top of him.'
'Yes sir...' she said with a smile, eagerly obliging just like Steve.
The second Natasha sinks down on his dick, Steve enters his dominant mode again, grinning at her as she struggled to take his cock.
'There you go...take all of me.' Steve groaned, guiding Nat down on his cock with his hands on her hips.
Nat huffed out a breath as she adjusted to his size, planting her palms against Steve's broad chest as she slowly started to bounce up and down on his cock.
Steve allowed her to have her fun.
For a minute...
'My turn now, sweetheart.' he smirked as he grabbed her shoulders, pulling her down on his cock as he started pounding into her.
Hard.
It didn't take long for her to squirt again all over his cock and stomach, making her moan out as she did so.
'Look at that, Stevie. You're turning our girl into a damn water fountain,' you joked as you watched him pound into her, stroking your cock as you observed.
Hearing you call her 'your girl' made Natasha's stomach flip. If it wasn't for Steve holding her up, she would have toppled over as another orgasm coursed through her body.
Steve really put his super soldier stamina to good use, pounding into her with no signs of stopping.
'Shit, shit, S-Steveee....' Nat whined, trying to push her hands against his stomach to get him to slow down.
'P-please, please stop, please...' she begged until he finally let up with a big grin plastered on his face.
'Too much?' he chuckled as she dropped her head to his neck, trying to catch her breath.
'Hmm...' she mumbled, unable to speak, making him chuckle again before he pressed a kiss in her hair.
'You okay?' you asked, sitting closer to the two of them as you gently rubbed up and down her back.
'Yeah...more than okay,' Nat smiled shyly.
God, she was so fucking gorgeous.
'Okay enough for another round?' you smirked
Her grin told you all you needed to know and you wasted no time in helping her off Steve's lap.
'Holy fuck...' Steve chuckled, finally admiring all the wetness that covered his body. 'how do you even squirt that much?'
'Well, I don't know...just kinda happens when you have a huge cock ramming into your g-spot over and over again...' she joked, making Steve throw you a smug look.
'Yeah yeah, keep smiling like that, Stevie. I bet you I can make her squirt harder.' you teased, crawling on top of Nat as she laid back on the floor.
'You're just talking shit, dude.' Steve shot back
'Oh yeah? Let's see who can make her squirt the most then.'
'Deal.'
You started pounding into Nat again almost immediately. The three of you went at it for hours. Leaving not only Natasha but the entire living room a mess.
'There we go....give me another one...' you groaned, making Nat squirt for the 6th time, 'good fucking girl...'
A few messy kisses later, Steve was pumping into her from behind, making her drip all over the carpet, groaning all kinds of filthy stuff in her ears.
It was kinda hot seeing him get all dominant with her, knowing he got all subby for you in the blink of an eye.
'What was that now, huh? Number 10? Number 11?' Steve taunted.
Nat was a blubbering mess. Mascara streaked down her cheeks as she giggled through the tears, all blissed out.
'I...I don't...just...uh...I-' she tried to string a sentence together but to no avail.
'My turn again.' You grinned, flipper her over so you were lying on top of her as you slid your throbbing cock into her abused hole.
You leaned down to kiss her, slow and passionate as you picked up the pace a little, making her whine.
'Need to cum...gonna let me cum in that fucked out pussy of yours?' you groaned, grinning when she nodded a bit too fast.
'Please...fill me, Daddy...need it so bad."
After basically edging yourself for yours, it didn't take long before you blew your load into Nat's pussy, letting your head drop against her shoulder, relishing in the way she ran her nails over your scalp.
'fuck....that was...jesus christ...' you huffed out, trying to catch your breath.
'Hmmm...' she smiled sweetly
'I think I lost track tho...Stevie, do you remember how many times that was?'
'M'not sure....maybe we should start over' he grinned, causing Natasha to throw the nearest pillow to his face.
'Next time we can check to see who out of the two of you can cum the most…I wonder if you will still laugh as much then'
'Okay okay...m'sorry...' you chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead before pulling out.
As you moved to lay down next to Nat, Steve got a full view of Natasha's open legs. Watching as your cum leaked out of her made his eyes twinkle.
'See something you like?' Nat giggled, seeing how Steve licked his lips as he stared at her cunt like it was his favorite snack on the planet.
'Hmm...lay back, princess....just let me have one more taste...' he mumbled before attaching his lips to her stuffed hole.
'Fuck...Steve....' She moaned while he ate her out with vigor.
Nat was too caught up to notice, but you didn't miss Steve bucking his hips into the pillow you threw at him earling as he whined at your taste leaking out of Nat's pussy.
Soon he stuffed two of his think fingers inside her, pressing that sensitive spot one more time.
'Just give me a last one...just one more...' he moaned, attaching his lips to her pussy as he fingered her.
Nat trembled as she came hard, squirting right into Steve's mouth while he groaned loudly, bucking his hips into the pillow fervently, covering it in his cum.
'fuck,' Steve groaned out, the blush on his cheeks increasing by the second.
'U okay there, Stevie?' you teased, making him hide his face in embarrassment.
'Shit...that was not how that was supposed to go down...' he explained, 'It was just so hot, and it tasted so fucking good....'
You laughed at Steve's adorable embarrassed face, pulling them both close to you on the large couch.
'Are you guys okay?' you asked earnestly as they snuggled up to you
'Hmm...' It sounded from both sides before silence took over for a minute.
'I definitely won, tho' you stated smugly, anticipating Steve's reaction.
'The hell you did!' he shot up, making you laugh
'Maybe we need a rematch sometime…' Natasha weighed in, making you both turn to her with a hopeful look
'You wanna do this with us again?' You asked
Your heart lit up a little when she gave you an adorable nod, snuggling close to you again.
'That was the best sex of my life...and besides...I've had a crush on you guys for months...' she admitted.
'Y-You...You have?' Steve studdered.
'Yeah....I was hoping you would walk in on me earlier...'
'I'm glad we did.' You promised, relishing in the feeling of your two favorite people snuggled up to you, warm and satisfied.
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x male reader x Steve Rogers
Summary: Stevie comes home from a long run so you and Nat decide to help him clean up :))
Content Warning: Smut, poly-relationship, voyeurism (just between the 3 of them), shower sex, squirting, blowjob, light chocking, D/S dynamics
A/N: I'm so sorry this took literally a billion years. Thank you @hauntedkittenfun for the wonderfully filthy request <3 I hope you like it!X
Word Count: 2800+
It was a quiet Sunday morning. You were on the couch, legs stretched out resting on the coffee table with a book in your lap. Nat was sitting on the opposite end of the couch with her tablet in her hands, reading up on this week's mission reports. Her icy feet were pressed against your thigh, but you didn't mind. Your free hand caressed her ankle and you both just enjoyed each other company.
When you hear the front door swing open, both you and Nat turn your heads and smile at your boyfriend, who just got home from his morning jog. You greet him with a warm smile and he walks closer to give you a proper hello. His fingertips touch the hair behind your ears as he leans down to give you a kiss. You can taste the salty sweat on his upper lip but you don't mind. Not even one bit.
When Steve pulls away and turns to Nat to give her the same warm greeting, Natasha quickly protests.
'Uh uh, I could smell you all the way from the doorstep. You're not coming anywhere near me until you've had a shower."
For a split second, Steve looks offended, but that quickly turns into a devilish smirk.
"Oh yeah? Because I was just craving some really nice, warm, sticky cuddles, babe," he says while slowly stepping closer.
"Don't. you. dare." Nat says while crawling back to where you're sitting
"Get away from me you stinky old man!" you yell "You smell like you've been dead for half a century. Are you sure they kept you frozen enough? Because you smell like you've gone a bit moldy."
"Alright, that's it! Hold her down, babe" he instructs you.
"aye aye, captain." You oblige and hold Nat tightly with her back against your chest.
"Wha- NO! traitor!" she yells at you.
"That's for using me as a human furnace with those icicles you call feet."
Steve jumps the two of you and immediately starts nuzzling his sweaty face against Natasha.
"hmmmmmmm, babyyy! I missed you soooooo much!!!"
"GET OFF ME!" she protests, but it falls on deaf ears.
before long, you and Steve are both a laughing mess listening to Natasha's pleas and threats.
"Hey Nat, I think you need a shower, hun, you kinda....stink" you chuckle.
"How about we shower together, huh? To save water and all that."
Nat raises her eyebrow before dramatically rolling her eyes, "Fine. But only to save water."
You chuckle and pick Nat up before reaching out your hand to Steve, "Come on, pretty boy, you know I can't handle her without you."
You slightly twist the faucet trying to get the temperature right while the hot water streams down your body. Nat is the first one to join you in the shower, while Steve works on getting his clothes off.
"You okay?" she mumbled, pressing wet kisses against the back of your neck. "hmm" you sighed happily, feeling her chest press against your back. Her arms wrapped around your waist and you let her roam her fingers over your chest and stomach while she continued to press kisses on your back.
"Hey, don't start with all the fun without me," Steve complained jokingly as he stepped into the shower.
“Don’t you worry, pretty, you’ll get more than enough attention.” You say, pulling him closer to the both of you.
Steve was now sandwiched between you and Natasha. Steam surrounds the three of you as you enjoy the warm water as well as each other. Steves eyes are closed, making all of his other senses more heightened. You watch both him and Nat intently. You hear every sigh and moan that leaves either of their mouths.
You all move around each other like the steam moves around your bodies. Nat reaches to kiss Steve before kissing you. When you pull away from Natasha’s lips to immediately turn to attach them to Steve’s wet and waiting mouth.
You end up between them. Fingertips touch you everywhere. You feel Natasha's erect nipples brush against your back while Steve's throbbing erection presses against your own.
A growl leaves your throat and you lunge at Steve. Pressing his back against the wall, you press your hips into his. Hard cocks grinding against each other, dripping with pre-cum.
You hand finds his throat and you push him back, pulling him off your lips. A little string of saliva is left hanging between your mouths. An indication of just how filthy your little make-out was.
You snap your head back, looking over your shoulder at Nat, who is currently a moaning mess, playing with her tits as she watching you dominate Steve.
“C’mere” you tell her, while still pressing steve against the wall by his neck.
Natasha obliges and you hook your free hand behind the nape of her neck. You guide her face to Steve’s and they start making out like two hungry animals.
You watch them. You watch Nat moan and drink the whimpers straight from Steve’s mouth.
You let them both go and tell Nat to jump.
She does.
Steve holds her up by her thighs. Her arms link around his neck while they passionately make out. You watch as their wet naked bodies cling to each other and your hand travels down to your throbbing cock.
Steve slowly slides down the wall and sits down while Nat straddles him. They both look at you with lustful eyes, silently asking for permission.
“Ride him” you dictate
Natasha eyes Steve's rock-hard cock. Somehow it looked even bigger from this angle. As if it wasn't already humongous.
Truth be told, you were pretty blessed yourself. But Steve,... Steve was truly hung like a fucking horse.
While you were slightly drooling over Stevie's horse-cock, Nat lifted her hips, preparing to actually fit the thing inside of her tight little pussy.
Very slowly, she started to sink down. She let out a long moan as she slid further down his shaft. Steve screwed his eyes shut and let his head fall back against the wall and you could feel his hand squeeze your thigh, only now realised he was holding onto you, achingly close to your dripping cock.
Your dick actually visibly throbbed and a sticky drop of pre-cum fell on Steve's wrist.
That got his attention.
His eyes shot open and looked directly into yours before they glanced over to his wrist. He smirked before bringing his hand to his mouth and theatrically licking his wrist clean.
He whimpered. Like actually whimpered.
Just from tasting a singular drop of your pre-cum.
You looked back down at Nat who finally made it down his cock and was currently stuffed to the absolute brink and breathing as if she'd just run a marathon.
"Are you okay baby?" he asked her when he saw she had adjusted.
"Yeah." she smiled, lifting her hips slowly, almost letting his cock slip out of her again.
"Good." was all he said before grabbing her shoulder and shoving himself into her. He wasted no time and immediately started pounding Nat's dripping pussy. hard.
"OOOHH FUUUUCCKKKK" She wailed and you couldn't help yourself, your hand shot to your crotch and you started stroking your fat dick while watching Steve fuck the soul out of Nat.
As if you weren’t hard enough already, Natasha starts squirting.
“STEVE!” She screams out as she sprays all over his cock.
He presses his thumb to her clit and starts rubbing messy circles while angling his hips up some more.
“ohhAAAHFUCKFUCKFUCK” Nats mouth fell open and you swear for a second there she went crosseyed.
“Gonna cum! M’gonna cum!” Nat babbled
You yanked her head back by her hair to make her look up at you and took the opportunity to spit in her open mouth.
“Yeah, baby, you cumming? Is that little pussy cumming on Stevies fat dick? Such a good little slut, huh baby? Gonna squirt some more aren’t you? Just can’t hold it in there can you? Little pussy just too full, hmm baby?”
You knew Nat went crazy for your filthy talk, especially when she was gonna cum. Shit pushed her right over the edge.
“aaaghhh cumming cumming cumming! Nat screamed out. Even with the shower running you could still hear the obscene sounds of her pussy squelching as she squirted an inhuman amount.
Her shoulder shook and her knees drew up, trying to ground herself. Steve kept pounding into her, pulling her hips down as she trembled and squirting all over him.
Tears ran down Nat’s cheeks as she was currently cumming her brains out.
You couldn’t take it anymore.
“Steve. Mouth!” You growled, wasting no time, you let go of Nat and Stepped closer to Steve.
You got down on your knees and sat up. Steve barely had time to open his mouth before you fisted his hair and shoved your rock hard cock into his mouth.
“Good fucking boy!” You groaned as you fucked his throat
“Make her cum again” you said, looking at Natasha’s wobbly figure, riding out her intense orgasm.
Steve pushed up his hips again and Nat wailed, falling over on his chest.
She was laying on top of him like a rag doll. Steve held her by her up, both hands holding her asscheeks as he pounding upwards, all while still trying his best to take your dick in his mouth.
At first he tried to suck, to swirl is tongue around your tip, but his brain was going to dumb that all he focused on was fucking Nat like a bunny in heat and keeping his jaw slack as you used his mouth for your own pleasure.
You could see Nat was getting close and Steve was trying to hold off his own orgasm. You pulled out of Steves mouth and started jerking yourself off.
“Wanna make another mess, baby? You looked at Nat.
“Fucckkyeasshhiiittt” was all she could babble.
“You hear that pretty? Our baby wants to cum again. Can’t get enough of that big fat cock yours. Can’t say I blame her, tho…”
Steve moaned at the praise and quickened his pace again.
“You must be getting pretty close yourself, huh, pretty boy? Gonna fill her up with your cum? Gonna stuff her pretty pussy?”
“Yeah….shit…please” Steve whined.
“Would you like that, baby?” You looked at Nat. “Would you like for steve to bust inside of you? Get you all warm n’ sticky on the inside?
“yeah yeah YES” Nat sat up with the last of her powers and bounced on Steve’s cock with all she had. Her tits bounced with her and eyes rolled to the back of her head.
“M’gonna cum ‘gain”
“Yeah baby gonna cum again? Gonna squirt again for Stevie? Gonna let him shoot his cum inside you and squirt is all over his tummy?
“SHIT” Steve groaned, grabbing Nat’s hips so hard you could see the bruise forming already. He pounded her pussy like there’s no tomorrow.
The shower was filled with moans, screams, whines and groans as Steve shot his load deep in Natasha’s waiting pussy.
You fisted your own cock harder and jerked yourself off as you looked at Nat.
“Come on, baby, cum with me, be a good little slut and make a mess with me on Stevies tummy, huh, baby? Such a dirty little whore aren’t you? Make that tight little pussy squirt one more time, come on.”
Steve was still pounding her through his own orgasm, thick roped of super soldier cum filled her pussy as the fat head of his cock rubbed against her g-spot over and over again.
“CUMMINGGGG” Nat screamed and lifted her hips. She squirted the most she ever had, Steve’s cum swirled with her own, spraying all over his torso.
“Shit, FUCK” you yelled, finally reaching you own peak.
Your cum landed on Steve’s stomach, right along the mixture off his own and Nat’s spent.
Natasha finally presses her palms against Steve's abdomen, signaling she really can't take anymore.
"Stevie, please...too much..." she whined, out of breath.
Steve let out a breathless chuckle and finally slowed down. With his super soldier stamina he literally could have gone all day.
Nat falls onto his chest, not caring about the mess that pooled there. You sat down and scooted closed to Steve, who eagerly let his head fall on you thigh.
There you all were. And giant heap of wet, warm, stickiness.
You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.
Steve looks up at you, “what’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing. Just that were even filthier now than when we entered the shower.” You chuckle, “and we didn’t even save water! Our bill is gonna be through the roof.”
They both giggle at your comment. “Honestly I dont think we spent that much water,” Steve says, “I mean, half of it came from Nat.”
You try to suppress it but you cant help bursting out laughing. Nat turns red and attempts to hide your face in the crook of Steve’s neck.
“Shut up…” she mumbled embarrassed.
“I was just kidding baby, you know I love how much you squirt,” Steve reassures her, letting he hand trail up and down her naked spine. “Besides, I think it’s super sexy…”
“You do?” She asks, raising her head up again and looking at you and Steve expectantly.
“Are you kidding? Ofcourse!” You tell her. “Nothing gets me harder, baby! And it’s not like I can blame you…I mean? Our Stevie is hung like a damn horse!”
Now it was Steves turn to blush.
“Alright, alright, enough,” he mumbles “we better clean up before the water turns cold. Can I pull out, sweetheart?”
“Hmm” Nat gave a tired nod and lifted her hips a little.
Steve slowly pulled his now softening cock out of Nat’s messy folds. She hissed a little at the sudden friction and a few leftover drops dribbled out of her pussy.
“There you go, you okay, honey?” Steve checked in.
“Yeah, just getting a little sore now”
“C’mere, beautiful” you gently held her arm and pulled her off Steve, guiding her to sit in between your legs with her back pressed against your chest as you leaned against the tile-covered wall.
“Stevie, can you grab the shower head for me?
Nat’s eyes flicked open and he knees closed instinctively. Making you chuckle.
“No, don’t worry you little perv, im gonna wash your hair”
“Oh…” she relaxed
Steve did as you asked and sat next to you guys with a bottle of shampoo, some shower gels and a loofa.
“You did so good, you know that?” You told her while her fingers massaged her scalp. “You both did.” You added, throwing Steve a wink
While you took a lavish pump of peach scented conditioner, Steve gently cleaned up Nats sensitivity pussy.
When Nat was all done you and Steve helped her up.
“Why don’t you get dried off while me and Stevie get cleaned up, sound good, sweetheart?
“Yeah, sure,” she gave you a sweet smile, “don’t be too long.”
You turned to Steve and grabbed the loofa, lathering his chest with soap, cleaning all the lovely filth off him.
“You are amazing, you know that?”
He smiled at your remark, and pressed a tender kiss against your lips.
A couple minutes later, the pair of you were as clean as it could get, you got out of the shower and saw Nat putting on he fluffy bathrobe. Her hair was wrapped up in a towel and she looked like she just came from a spa.
“You looked mighty relaxed.” Steve said smugly “had a workout?”
“Yeah, did some cardio.” She smiled and pressed her lips to his as she handed him his towel.
You quickly dried off and you and Steve put on a fresh pair of boxers, throwing Nat some panties and one of your shirts.
Before long the three of you were cuddled up in bed.
Nat was in the middle. She was laying mostly on Steve’s chest, but her back was pressed against your side and her leg tangled with one of yours.
You played with Steve’s hair and he hummed contently.
For a little while the three of you the enjoyed each others presence.
“I love you” you broke the silence. “Both of you.”
“We love you too”
“Was I too rough?” You asked, “With either of you?”
“Not with me” Nat promised.
“Stevie?” You looked at him
“No…well…I mean…it’s not really, like…”
“Stevie, you can tell me, okay pretty?
“I love it when you’re rough with my throat, but it got a bit hard to breath because of the shower…”
“Oh, Stevie, I hadn’t thought of that! I’m so sorry, are you okay?”
“Yes yes, I’m fine don’t worry! I just thought,…you know for next time.”
“Ofcourse, baby! I’ll remember it, thank you for telling me, okay, Stevie?”
Steve beamed at the praise and Nat pressed a kiss against his cheek, “well done, Stevie”
You all snuggled a little closer together and talked until you fell asleep.
The next morning Steve was the first one to wake up, and, for some inexplicable reason we will never know, he really wanted to go for a jog…
summary: study nights with wanda were supposed to be all about magic theory… until you discover the private magic Wanda’s been exploring - and what she’s been using it for.
warnings: smut, bottom!wanda, enchanted strap; overstimulation; suggestive dialogue; fingering; creampie; vampire feeding; mild roughness; humorous, soft aftercare; friends to lovers; emotional intimacy; reader is a vampire | words: 6.388k
a/n-> accidentally posted the unfished version before, just pretend i didn't. this was written with a mission, we need more bottom wanda fics.
General Masterlist | AO3 |
-&-
You've been friends with Wanda for a little over three years now.
When she officially joined the Avengers, you were still elbow-deep in the impossible task of recruiting more witches for what was not-quite-yet a coven. Agatha refused to call it that - “a nosy vampire and three witches who had one joint spell session does not a coven make,” she'd scoffed.
She had a point. The so-called group was mostly chaos: Agatha and the girls argued every other day, Jen technically wasn’t doing magic anymore, and Lilia had a rather violent aversion to the concept of community, possibly because of the whole plague situation. Still, you were trying. Someone had to.
So when the new Avengers were announced and vampire networks started buzzing about humans playing gods again, it wasn’t just politics or prophecy that drew your attention. It was the unmistakable pulse of magic laced in Wanda’s powers, bright and wild and untrained.
The others warned you against mingling with the superhero crowd, especially dragging magic into mortal affairs. But as usual, you ignored them. You knocked on the Tower’s door anyway - literally - and extended an invitation to the witch who didn’t yet know she was one.
Wanda had resisted the label as much as your group had resisted hers. But something softened over time. Bit by bit, routine rooted itself in the quiet moments: delivering spellbooks to the Avengers Tower every week, practicing basics on quiet Sunday mornings, sharing rituals and stories passed down through your centuries-long memory.
You grew close. Agatha would tease - “maybe too close,” always with that knowing lilt - but you both pretended not to hear her.
Which is how you found yourself, for the fourth time this week, sprawled across Wanda’s bed like you belonged there, magical books open in a circle around you. One hand flipped a page absently while the other nursed a stolen blood bag (donation room, New York Hospital - nobody missed it).
You looked up just as the door creaked open. Wanda entered slowly, flushed from her last training session of the day. Hair tousled, breath caught halfway between a sigh and a laugh, she offered you a soft, worn-out smile.
“I guess you don’t do doors anymore, huh?” she asked, voice light but teasing.
You paused mid-drink, fangs still out, mouth curved in a guilty little grin that made her look away too fast. She found sudden interest in the dirt on her sneakers.
“Portals are more efficient,” you said with a lazy blink.
Wanda smiled despite herself, that warm kind of smile she tried to hide. “Make yourself at home,” she muttered, already peeling her hoodie off, adding over her shoulder as she headed to the bathroom, “As usual.”
You mumbled something back - half smirk, half acknowledgment - but your attention had already started to slip.
The blood was sweet, warm enough to relax every taut line in your shoulders. You let your head tip back, fangs still buried in plastic, arm tucked under your neck, legs crossed at the ankles in the middle of her bed like you lived there.
Maybe you did, in a way.
You didn’t mean to listen. You didn’t try to notice the way her footsteps padded across the carpet, or the soft rustle of clothing falling to the floor. You didn’t mean to hear the sigh she let out as the hot water hit her back - or the way the scent of soap slowly replaced sweat, steam curling through the air like incense.
But you noticed anyway.
It wasn’t the first time you found yourself a little too aware of Wanda. Of the way her energy shifted when she entered a room. Of how the scent of her skin after a shower made your brain short-circuit for reasons you refused to unpack.
You blamed the blood. It was easier.
You discarded the empty bag in the container she’d sweetly labeled for you months ago - “blood trash 🩸🗑️ only” - and made a valiant effort to gather the books. Your limbs felt too relaxed to cooperate. Your brain, fogged with warmth and the remnants of adrenaline, wandered somewhere it shouldn’t.
She could skip tonight’s lesson. You weren’t really in a teaching mood, anyway. A movie under the covers sounded more tempting by the second.
By the time Wanda stepped back into the room, towel around her neck and damp hair dripping onto her collarbone, you’d transformed the bed into a cozy nest. Pillows fluffed, blankets piled just right, snacks from the Tower kitchen arranged with near reverence on a tray between the two of you.
Wanda’s gaze softened instantly.
“You spoil me, you know that?” she murmured, walking past you with bare feet and warm skin. One hand ruffled her damp hair, while the other reached out to give your shoulder a playful squeeze. The casual intimacy of it sent a flutter through your chest you definitely ignored.
She climbed into bed with a tired sigh, half-buried herself under the covers, and smiled at the little altar of treats you’d made for her.
“Although I love it… if I keep skipping our lessons like this, I’ll only learn the fundamentals by the time I’m thirty.”
You smile at her, the corners of your mouth twitching with playful softness as you click your tongue.
“We can do a whole day of studying tomorrow,” you say, voice low and warm as your fingers move to the buttons of your shirt. “Tonight, I can sense the exhaustion in your skin, sweetheart. You deserve a break.”
There’s the faintest blush on her cheeks at the nickname - she pretends to focus on drying her hair, but you catch the way her eyes flick toward your hands. Your shirt is halfway unbuttoned now, revealing a smooth stretch of skin.
Wanda’s brow furrows almost instantly.
“What are you doing?” she asks, eyes narrowing as if trying to read your intentions.
You shrug, lips twitching upward in mock innocence. “Getting more comfortable for bed?”
She lets out a breath of a laugh, light but incredulous, her gaze trailing, just for a second, along the exposed line of your collarbone before she catches herself and lifts a finger in warning.
“I know you came here straight from one of your vampire errands. There is no way you’re sleeping in my bed with whatever blood-slicked demon germs you picked up tonight.”
“But I was already in there - ”
Her look is sharp. Final. You sigh, dramatic and defiant, arms dropping to your sides.
“Fine,” you mutter, letting your shirt fall open completely as you pad toward the bathroom. She calls after you, “Towels are in the bottom drawer!” - with a grin in her voice that only deepens when you growl back, “I know where the goddamn towels are.”
Wanda’s still chuckling softly to herself when her eyes catch a glimpse of your silhouette in the ajar door.
She was not expecting the sound of the shower to affect her the way it does - soft splashes, the shift of your body behind thin walls, steam curling like lazy magic through the cracks. Her mouth goes dry. She tells herself to focus on the screen. Instead, she finds herself watching the way your shadow moves behind the glass.
By the time you return, the scent of her shampoo lingers on your skin, mingling with the heat of the shower in a way that’s almost intimate. Familiar. Her breath catches when she glances up - and then immediately flicks her gaze away again.
You step into the room like it’s yours, skin still damp, droplets trailing down your collarbone and disappearing beneath the towel slung low around your waist. You hum under your breath, hair dripping onto your shoulders, leaving little wet marks on her floor.
Wanda makes the mistake of looking again - just a peek - and nearly chokes on her own breath.
You don’t seem to notice. Or maybe you do. It’s hard to tell with you.
A low chuckle slips from your throat as you move toward her dresser, digging through drawers like you’ve done a hundred times. “What the hell are you watching, Maximoff?”
Her eyes go wide, a guilty flush creeping up her neck. She thinks you caught her - thinks the heat in her chest must be visible somehow. But you add, casual as ever, “Your heart just skipped. Don’t tell me you’re scaring yourself with horror movies again.”
Lucky. Very lucky.
Wanda exhales, relief blooming like smoke. “Guilty,” she says quickly, flashing a nervous smile as she gestures to the screen. It’s some old monster flick - practical effects, over-the-top gore, and all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Something Natasha lent her as a joke.
You glance over your shoulder and laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s what got you riled up? Weak.”
She’s about to retort, something equally sarcastic on the tip of her tongue, when you let the towel drop.
Wanda stops breathing.
There’s nothing between her and the sight of your bare back, the elegant lines of muscle, the quiet strength carved into your form like poetry.
She’s seen you naked before. You were once a maid, then a pirate after your transformation - sharing cramped quarters with others became second nature, which explains your complete lack of modesty when it comes to nudity. But for Wanda, lately, it’s felt less like a habit and more like a divine trial of restraint.
You don’t seem bothered. Not at all. You stretch, slow and cat-like, and turn just enough for her to see the faint veins beneath your skin beginning to darken, the glow in your eyes blooming red for a heartbeat.
“Honestly,” you say, voice lower now, more playful, “I don’t know why you’re impressed. You’ve seen me transform a hundred times. Real-life horror movie, free show just for you.”
To prove your point, you flash her a half-formed vampiric grin - sharp fangs, darkened veins webbing lightly across your cheeks, just enough to make her pulse stutter.
Wanda groans, her thighs pressing together under the blankets as she throws herself dramatically onto the pillows. “Don’t do that,” she mutters, eyes squeezing shut. “You’re gonna give me nightmares.”
You laugh again, completely unbothered.
What she doesn’t see - what she misses, because she’s too busy pretending she’s annoyed and not aroused - is the way your eyes linger on her just a second longer than necessary. The way your smile softens when she hides her face in the pillows. The way your hands move a little slower now, as if savoring the comfort of being here, in her space, like it’s something sacred.
Wanda makes the mistake of not noticing where your hands are searching now. She’s too distracted by her own thoughts - by the fire licking at her skin, the way her body is betraying her with every heartbeat.
You find a shirt that’s comfortably oversized - definitely Wanda’s - and pull it over your head. As you fold a few other pieces and rummage through the drawer for something else to borrow, your fingers close around something far too structured to be clothing.
You freeze for a second. Then a slow, wicked grin curls your lips.
You’ve shared a house with Agatha Harkness for more than a century - there are very few enchanted accessories you haven’t seen. And besides, you lived through the entire pro-discovery, post-puritan, human-rights-to-sexuality era, so your fingers wrap around the leather strap with practiced curiosity rather than shock.
But enchanted magical straps? Those are always tethered to the witch who conjured them.
So when your hand tightens around it and lifts it ever so slightly from the drawer, you don’t miss the snap of Wanda’s head in your direction - eyes wide, mouth parting slightly in panic, cheeks already flushed a deep rose.
“Well, well,” you begin, voice dripping amusement, “what do we have here - ”
Before you can finish the sentence, the item yanks itself from your hand with a rush of scarlet magic and flies back into the drawer, which slams shut with finality.
You burst into laughter, fully delighted.
“Oh my god, Wanda. You don’t have to panic like that!”
“Shut up,” she hisses, crossing the room fast - but her voice is trembling and her face is practically glowing red. “Not a word about this!”
“Too late,” you grin, teasing mercilessly. “I love that you’re getting creative with your magic. Really taking your spellwork into… practical territory.”
She groans, turning away from you, face buried in her hands for a moment.
“I knew Agatha would be a terrible influence when I brought you into the coven,” you continue, folding your arms, expression mock-thoughtful.
Wanda wheels around, cheeks still pink. “Agatha has actually been… very mature about this. Extremely helpful.” She points at you, flustered but trying to sound stern. “You’re the one being insufferable.”
Your grin only widens as her hands press to your shoulders, gently but insistently trying to steer you away from the closet. You’re still laughing, still half-dressed, still entirely enjoying yourself.
But then you cheat.
Vampire speed kicks in, and in a blur, you’ve crossed the room, the object once again dangling from your fingers. Wanda’s horrified gasp echoes off the walls.
“Y/N!”
You hold it up between two fingers, smile cocky, eyes glittering with mischief. “You do know Agatha invented this spell, right? I’m just curious - did she teach you all the tricks, or just the basics?”
Wanda groans in frustration. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”
But she doesn’t use her magic to pin you down, not yet. She’s chasing you the mortal way, half-hearted, half-laughing through her mortification, her fingers swiping at the air just inches from your hand every time you dodge.
“Come on,” you tease, voice lilting. “We’re all adults here. Sex is natural. Magic-enhanced sex? Even better.”
“You’re the absolute worst. Worse than Agatha.”
You laugh harder, and that’s when she finally has enough - her magic tugs sharply at your wrist, yanking your arm down and finally letting her seize the toy. But as her fingers close over it, so do yours. Neither of you lets go.
Your eyes meet.
There’s a sudden shift - like the breath is sucked from the room. The laughter lingers on your lips, but something deeper pulses underneath. You tilt your head slightly, tone dropping lower, velvety.
“As your mentor, Wanda… It’s only natural I keep up with the kinds of spells you’ve been exploring.” Your voice is a caress now, the teasing thick with heat. “I just want to make sure you’re reaching your full potential.”
Her breath hitches - she feels the pulse of magic through the toy, the heat it responds to like a heartbeat. Her heartbeat.
You step a little closer, gaze locked to hers. “I could’ve helped you, you know. If you’d told me about this. We could’ve crafted something together. Something designed just for you.”
Her fingers tremble where they hold the object. She tries to speak, but it comes out as a half-broken, “I - I…”
You let go of the strap and take her wrist instead, the shift in contact gentle but commanding. Your other hand rises slowly, carefully, to cup her cheek, and she leans into the touch before she can stop herself.
Your thumb strokes her jaw, and when you speak again, your voice is barely a whisper, warm with sincerity beneath the sultry lilt.
“It’s no problem, really. I still know a few tricks… and I’d be more than happy to teach you. If you want me to.”
There’s a question in your eyes - no pressure, no assumption, just quiet patience. Wanda stares at you, breath shallow, caught between the rhythm of her own desire and the weight of her affection for you. You’re looking at her like she hung the stars, like you’d follow her anywhere if she only asked.
Her voice fails her again. So she nods, slowly.
And the way your smile shifts - softer, sweeter, reverent - makes her stomach flip.
“Oh, Wanda,” you murmur, voice like a promise. “The things I’d do for you... If you only asked.”
Her heart skips.
The hand you still have around her wrist begins to guide hers lower, slowly, deliberately - until it rests just above your waist. Wanda’s breath catches, her lungs refusing to function properly under the pressure of what that might mean. Her mind is racing ahead, heart in her throat, and nothing - nothing - prepares her for what you do instead.
“We’ll have time for you to lead another night,” you murmur, your voice raspy, grounding, commanding in the softest way. “Right now, I’m the one in charge.”
It’s only then that Wanda looks down to where her hand connects with yours, and the sight stops her breath entirely.
The strap, deep crimson and laced with faint magical etchings, is no longer simply something she was holding. It’s now fastened snugly to your body, the enchanted harness shimmering with scarlet runes, secured perfectly around your hips like it belonged there all along. Magic. Old, tailored magic. Magic that listens to arousal.
Her fingers twitch, then squeeze instinctively - and your body jolts forward slightly with a soft, fractured groan.
Wanda’s mouth falls open.
“I bet she didn’t teach you this trick,” you manage through your teeth, your smile strained by the pleasure that flashes visibly across your features.
Wanda doesn’t reply right away. She just releases the strap, palms sliding up to your shoulders instead - firm, grounding, trembling with adrenaline and something deeper. Her eyes lock with yours, voice low but resolute.
“Please stop talking about other people.”
And you’d agree to anything she asked in that moment.
The kiss she gives you is tentative at first, almost uncertain - like she’s afraid you’ll pull away, even though she’s the one fully dressed and you’re still barefoot and mostly naked in her bedroom. Her lips brush yours gently, a silent question.
But when she pulls back, cheeks flushed, eyes searching your face for any flicker of hesitation, you only stare at her like she’s the answer to a question you’ve been afraid to ask for centuries. You don’t need telepathy to know what she’s thinking: Am I crossing a line?
You don’t let her linger in that doubt. Your hands are already cupping her face, guiding her back to you. This time, the kiss is deeper, hungry in the way repressed feelings always are, tender in the way confessions often feel.
It’s the kind of kiss that anchors you. That rewrites the air in the room.
You lose yourselves in it for a while, long minutes of breath shared, lips parting slowly, tongues moving with lazy, reverent rhythm. Wanda's fingers twist into your hair, nails grazing your scalp in ways that make your knees threaten betrayal. And yet it’s the way her hips start pressing forward, restless and seeking friction, that truly tests your restraint.
She’s beautiful like this - messy and warm and open. Lips swollen from your mouth, skin flushed from the weight of wanting. Her whole body hums against yours.
When you finally pull back, it’s only to bury your face in the slope of her neck, placing slow, burning kisses along her collarbone, each one landing with weight. She shudders, fingers tightening around your arms. You feel her lean into you, legs weakening.
Then your fang grazes her skin - barely, a passing scrape - but Wanda’s response is immediate: a high, needy whimper that stokes something primal in you.
“You can feed,” she whispers, breath hot in your ear as she tilts her neck for you. “I don’t mind.”
You close your eyes, inhaling slowly as your grip on her waist tightens. The scent of her skin, still laced with soap and arousal, clouds your thoughts.
“I already have,” you murmur against her throat, voice hushed with restraint. “I don’t really need more tonight.”
Your tongue replaces the fang, a slow, wet stroke against her pulse point - soothing. Grounding.
But Wanda doesn’t want you grounded.
She reaches down suddenly, hand wrapping firmly around the base of the strap between you. The pressure is immediate - blinding - and the groan that rips from your chest is not subtle.
Her voice drops an octave. Confident now. Taunting even.
“I’m offering,” she says, eyes gleaming. “Don’t be rude.”
The enchantment responds at once, feeding off her arousal and yours, sending waves of stimulation back into your body. Your knees nearly buckle at the sensation, and your fingers dig into her hips just to stay steady.
The room spins slightly, heat swirling around you like smoke, thick with magic and want. You swallow hard, regaining your footing - but your fangs have already dropped, lips parting as you hover at her neck again.
There’s something sacred about the way she leans in, baring her throat to you like it’s instinct.
And something dangerous about how much you want her.
She whines sharply and low, the sound of it vibrating in your throat like a tether pulled too tight. Her back arches into you, desperate for friction, and just as your fangs sink into her neck with controlled precision, her fingers move again - this time teasing the very tip of the strap.
It’s too much. Too much.
A sharp jolt runs through you, spine tightening, and you lose your rhythm in feeding as your hips press forward on instinct. Wanda gasps, not from pain but from impact, because the two of you stumble across the room, limbs clumsy and tangled, until her back hits the wall with a dull thud.
You try. You try to keep your fangs in her skin, your lips at her throat, to hold your body in check and drink without falling apart - but she’s a natural at destruction. Her grip on the toy doesn’t loosen. She keeps moving her hand with shameless precision, masturbating you through the strap like she knows exactly what she’s doing. And maybe she does.
You’re panting against her throat now, ragged and struggling, blood thick on your tongue and arousal hotter than anything you’ve felt in decades. Her power sings under your skin, and it’s not magic, it’s her. Wanda.
She giggles - soft but wicked - and the sound is a spark to dry kindling.
“Go ahead, sweetheart,” she purrs in your ear, voice molten. “Let go.”
Your fangs scrape her skin again, unintentionally, because your whole body is shaking from how tightly you’re holding the knot low in your belly.
“I want to see the big, bad vampire break for me.”
Then her tongue flicks your earlobe, her breath warm and wet. Her hand tightens once, twice - and it’s done.
You come undone in her hand with a raw, guttural groan. Your body convulses, the force of it dragging a cry from deep in your chest. One of your hands slams against the wall for balance, the strength behind it splintering the paint, your fingers flexing as your release pulses through you hard and hot. You’re left shaking, panting, head bowed against her shoulder, clinging to her waist like she’s the only thing keeping you from burning alive.
Wanda giggles again, and it’s unfair how pleased she sounds - mischief and something softer curled around her smile. Her hand finally goes still, slick with your cum, and when she lifts her palm to look at it, her expression flickers with something curious.
“I wasn’t sure that would happen,” she says, a little breathless, a little stunned. “But I’m definitely not disappointed.”
It takes a moment for your brain to connect the dots. She's not talking about the sex. Not exactly.
Her eyes flick back to yours, questioning but hesitant. “Is it…?”
She doesn’t finish the sentence. Doesn’t have to.
Still catching your breath, you manage a nod and a rough, low reply.
“Mine. Real. Yes.” Your voice is hoarse, but steady now. “Functions like the traditional kind… if you want it to. Witches have very creative, non-male methods for building families.”
You kiss her quickly, nothing but warmth, grounding yourself, then pull back, fingers pried from the wall with effort. Cracked drywall and bruised pride. But worth it.
Wanda’s biting her lip, the implications of your words flickering behind her eyes. It makes her look so devastatingly her - intellect and feelings always working together. You use that second of distraction to inhale, gathering some of the control she just stole from you.
Not because you mind her leading. You don’t. You love it. But you're not about to let yourself lose control of your strength - not in this space. Not with her. She deserves better than unbridled force. She deserves intention.
You let the back of your knees find the bed, falling into a seated position, legs spread, arms behind you for balance.
The enchanted strap is still vibrating faintly between your thighs - hard and slick, pulsing in tune with the magic it fed off. A bit of your cum leaks down your thigh, gleaming in the soft lamplight.
You look up at her.
“Take off your clothes, darling.”
The flush that blooms over her cheeks spreads down her neck. Still, she doesn’t look away. Her hands move to the waistband of her pajama bottoms, fumbling slightly, awkward in a way that makes your stomach ache with affection.
You sigh, all heat and hunger.
“If you take too long,” you warn, “I’ll rip them off you.”
That gets her.
Wanda swallows hard, visibly trembling. She lets go, magic sparking in the air around her, and in one motion she’s out of her shorts. But her panties are still clinging to her hips when your patience runs out completely.
Your hand reaches up, fast, closing gently but firmly around her wrist. In one motion, you pull her down into your lap, chest to chest.
Centuries old. You've fought monsters, conquered cities, danced with death, and kissed gods. But nothing - nothing - compares to the feeling of Wanda Maximoff grinding into you, panting into your mouth, whispering your name like it’s holy and begging to be fucked.
Your grip on her waist tightens, enough to bruise if you weren't careful, but you’ve never been anything but careful with her. It’s hard when she’s like this, moving her hips in frantic circles, riding the enchanted strap nestled between your legs like her life depends on it.
You manage a breath, a brief second of stillness, just enough to let your mouth travel down her body. Open-mouthed kisses trace along her collarbones, then lower, tongue teasing one nipple, then the other. You suck her tits until she's trembling above you, grinding halted, too overwhelmed to do anything but shake and whimper under the weight of your mouth. Her hands dig into your hair, and her chest heaves, breaths ragged. You didn’t expect her to be this close already.
But because the strap is magically connected to her arousal, her orgasm takes you out of orbit. You don't come physically - but you feel it, the echo of it, the way the spell is designed to drag you along with her, the throbbing ache of your own desire flaring bright. Your hips jolt. You groan into her chest.
She whines, too, writhing, overwhelmed, and pretty sure she's going to combust if you don’t fuck her now.
“I need- ” she pants, trying to pull away just enough to yank off her panties, still in the way because you were too impatient before. But you grab her hips and hold her against the strap, grinding her down onto it. “I’m just - just trying to-”
You rip the fabric with a single swipe of your hand.
“Really?” she protests, glaring for a second. “Those were nice.”
But you’ve already flipped her onto her back, pinning her against the pillows. “I’ll buy you new ones,” you promise, eyes flicking down as your hands part her thighs. “I’ll buy you everything. The whole damn world if you want it.”
Wanda laughs, cheeks flushed. “God, you’re such a sweet talker.”
Scarlet sparks hum around her fingers as they tug your shirt away. Her hands hover nervously at her sides, the way they always do when she’s trying not to tremble.
“I’m not,” you murmur, gaze locked between her legs. You’re barely listening, distracted by the sight of her - dripping, swollen, aching for you. “I’m cranky. Suspicious. You just bring out the version of me worth loving.”
Her expression softens, and she reaches for you, not for a kiss, not for your hand.
No, she’s guiding you. Down, between her legs, until your fingers find her heat and sink inside with an obscene wet sound. She moans, breath hitching.
You take your time with this, one finger, slow and deliberate. Then two. Twisting, curling, finding the spot that makes her clench around you with a cry.
“I want- ”
“I know, baby.” You hush her, your voice thick. “Just stretching you first. You’ll take me easily like this.”
She mewls, hips stuttering, her hands clenching the sheets. And just as you're adjusting, the strap between your legs pulses hard - your body jerks, gasping. Wanda came again.
It’s fast, sharp - her body is too sensitive now - but it still rocks through her like a wave. Her cunt flutters around your fingers, and you don’t know how much longer you can wait.
“Please,” she begs, voice high and thin. “Please, I can’t-”
“I know, shh,” you murmur, soothing her while you line up the strap with her soaked entrance. You press the tip against her, barely nudging inside, dragging it through her slickness just to hear her whine. “You’re so ready for me. You’ve been ready.”
You try to keep teasing her, only because you can. Because centuries have taught you patience in the face of primal hunger.
But then-
Scarlet sparks push at your back, a rough shove that drives your hips forward. You sink in, deep, with a single sharp thrust.
Both of you cry out.
The strap fills her completely, pulsing with her magic, thick and hard and vibrating just enough to keep you both panting. Her heat wraps around you, squeezing like her body’s trying to keep you there forever. And you're a goner.
The bed creaks violently with each thrust. Your hips snap forward, steady and punishing. Wanda claws at your back - literal blood under her nails - but you barely feel it. She's shaking, gasping, her legs wrapped around your waist so tightly there's no air between your bodies.
You don’t relent.
Your pace is ruthless, fucking her deep, fucking her through it. The room smells like sex and magic and sweat, and your hand finds her clit mid-thrust. She sobs at the contact.
"Fuck-!" Her whole body jerks, her fourth orgasm slamming into her so hard the lights above flicker.
You falter, nearly losing rhythm, groaning against her throat. “Wanda-fuck-where should I-?”
“W-What?” she gasps, dazed.
“Should I pull out?” you manage. “Or - ”
“What?” she says again, this time angry. Offended. “Don’t you dare fucking stop, Y/N.”
Her ankles lock around you.
You don't argue. You can’t.
You slam into her, thrusting hard as your orgasm rushes through your whole body. You bury your face in her neck, a long, drawn-out groan leaving you as your hips roll forward, grinding deep inside.
The strap pulses, spilling your cum into her in thick, slow waves that make you both tremble.
Her cunt is a soaked mess around the toy, slick and clenching, and when your hips roll again just to stay grounded in her warmth, the wet noise that follows is so obscenely loud it makes her eyes roll back.
And still, she doesn’t let go of you. Doesn’t let you pull away. Her legs hold you in place, her magic curling around your spine.
You're both still struggling to breathe, lungs heavy with the weight of satisfaction, limbs warm and slack after the intensity of climax. But you fight the sleepiness clawing at your body - fight it hard - because Wanda lets out a soft, desperate whine when you try to pull away.
“I gotta pull out, sweetheart,” you murmur, biting back a groan when she clenches around the strap, undeniably on purpose. You push gently against her hips, trying to ease out of her hold.
“I don’t want you to,” she breathes, less demanding now, her voice languid and soaked in exhaustion. Her ankles have slipped from behind your back, but the longing in her tone still tugs at something primal inside you.
You laugh, quiet, honey-sweet and it makes her blush. So does the tender kiss you press just beneath her ear.
“Oh, I know you don’t, baby,” you whisper, adjusting slightly. The enchanted toy slides out of her, and you both sigh at the loss, overstimulated nerves fluttering. Your voice drops, playful but rough with restraint. “But this kind of magic runs on intention. And I’m having all sorts of unholy thoughts right now. I’d rather not knock you up by accident.”
Wanda chuckles breathily at that, but doesn’t protest further. Her body, well-fucked and trembling, is already past its limit. Even your gentlest touch now makes her flinch more than melt.
You slip the strap off with the same ease you'd show removing a coat, as though tonight - the spellbound lust, the raw confessions, the whole fucking-your-best-friend-into-the-mattress thing - was just another Thursday.
“Don’t fall asleep on me just yet, Maximoff,” you tease, catching her eyelids fluttering. Her tired smile is pure surrender. She tries to respond, but her body’s already slipping. “We made a mess, sweetheart,” you murmur, brushing her sweat-damp hair back from her face. “Don’t you want me to-”
Scarlet sparks answer you before she does, pulling you back down and holding you there, face resting on your chest, her magic clinging to your skin like a second blanket. That’s all the answer you get.
And honestly? It’s more than enough.
You settle in with her, bodies tangled, her breath steadying into your collarbone. She’s asleep within seconds.
It doesn’t take long for you to follow.
-
It isn’t the warmth of the sun that wakes Wanda - it’s the absence of yours.
The chill that slips into the sheets in your place is subtle but unmistakable. Still tangled in sleep, her hand stretches across the linen instinctively, searching for your body. When she finds only the faint impression of your form on the mattress, her brows knit together in a drowsy frown.
Footsteps shuffle across the wooden floor. The sound is light, familiar. The rustle of fabric follows - and something in Wanda's sleepy brain registers it as you.
"It's too damn early, Y/N," she rasps, voice rough with sleep, eyes only half-open. But she doesn’t flinch from the light bleeding through the window - because even as her voice breaks the silence, she sees you standing there, reaching up to draw the heavy curtains closed.
"I know, sweetie. That's exactly why I got up," you reply gently, not looking over your shoulder, too focused on shielding the room. "We forgot to close the curtains last night."
It takes a second - two, maybe - before her still-sleep-fogged mind catches up to the words. Vampire best friend. Sunlight. Her eyes snap fully open.
“Sorry,” she mutters, suddenly wide awake, guilt flooding her features as she tries to sit up.
But you're already crossing the now-dim room, waving off her concern with a shake of your head. “It’s alright. Didn’t get me,” you reassure her with a soft smile, and she breathes out, easing back into the pillows just as you crawl up onto the bed - and settle on her waist.
It’s a position that feels far too natural for something so new. And Wanda feels her cheeks bloom red at the thought - at how much she wants you to stay exactly like that.
"I know I promised you a day of studying," you murmur, eyes drinking her in like you haven’t seen her in years, “but I was thinking… maybe I could take you on a date instead? What do you say?”
Her answer doesn’t come in words - it comes in the small sound she makes when your lips press against hers, hungry and warm and deeply familiar. It steals her breath. She only manages a weak, dazed nod as you pull back with a teasing laugh.
You lean closer to press another kiss to her cheek, but your gaze lingers, catching sight of the scattered constellation of hickeys and bite marks blooming across her collarbone. It makes you pause, and your voice drops as you murmur, “I’ll be gentler next time. I promise.”
Wanda immediately frowns. “Don’t you dare,” she counters, and you snort at the conviction in her sleepy voice.
"Very kinky of you." You grin, and she rolls her eyes, sticking her tongue out at you like a defiant schoolgirl - except her fingers are already curling around your hips, pulling you down against her again.
“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” she says, gaze sharp despite the blush on her cheeks. “I know how much you like leaving your mark, Miss Vampire. The thought of showing me off must drive you crazy.”
You raise an eyebrow at her smugness, and the glint in your eye is all the warning she gets before you strike - fast, fluid, effortlessly dominant.
You pin her wrists above her head, your palms encasing her wrists like cuffs of silk and fire. She gasps, startled, and then gasps again as your hips grind into hers with calculated force.
“Oh?” you purr, low and dangerous, “You’ve been reading my mind, you naughty witch?”
She flushes, caught between embarrassment and arousal, unable - or unwilling - to deny it. Her thighs shift beneath yours, trying to find friction, but you don’t let her.
You adjust your position, sliding your thigh between hers. The slow, deliberate pressure makes Wanda moan - long and breathless - as her hips press down against you.
“Just practicing what you taught me,” she whispers, voice trembling, eyes wide with want.
“Let me teach you more, then,” you say, tone dipped in velvet, watching as she tries again to grind against you - only for you to shift back just enough to make her whimper.
“This,” you say, voice thick and sinfully sweet, “is called edging.”
Wanda's breath hitches. She opens her mouth to ask - what it is, why you’re doing it, maybe even to protest - but your lips are already back on hers, and your next words are spoken against her mouth like a spell:
Five Times You Go Through Wanda Maximoff's Window - [HS Challenge]
Summary: A clumsy spider and a grumpy witch are roommates in Avengers Tower. And it takes you five missed windows to finally get things right. [Prompt]
Warning: None, fluff and funny, spider!reader and emo!wanda, avengers being a family, happy ending | Words: 2.937k
A/N-> This was such a funny one to write because I always wanted to try the Five Times Prompt! I hope you guys liked it.
General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 | Holiday Season Masterlist
-&-
The first time you missed a window in Avengers Tower, you still didn't know the place properly.
You had just come out of a fight and your costume was still smoldering. You stumbled between one window and another and thought you had counted the floors correctly when you balanced yourself inside, and almost fell out again when something pushed you.
Your spidey sense acted immediately, of course. It was a disastrous situation, to be honest. You jumped like a frightened animal away from the magical energy of the witch, the true owner of that room and window, while instinctively hitting her right in the face with your webs.
Wanda yelled angrily, and you, hanging from the wall, only had time to fall straight to the floor before she hit you in the chest this time.
Of course, the confusion attracted the attention of the other Avengers - Vision, and Steve appeared just before Nat, the men confused by the whole thing, but the widow, as soon as she saw the younger witch trying to untangle the webs from her face, burst into laughter.
You were blushing a lot when you went to apologize.
"I'm really sorry Wanda, I thought it was my room."
"It's fine." She retorted between her teeth, and it didn't look like it was fine at all. You rubbed your shoulder, the magical blow left your skin sore and Wanda sighed. "Sorry about the hit. I thought it was an intruder."
Natasha interrupted the whole thing with another chuckle, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes that threatened to return every time she looked at Wanda's grumpy expression over the webs. "You two are clearly an example of attention. You've just earned some extra training."
You and Wanda grumbled in unison. Of course, Natasha was just tormenting you and the training was going to happen anyway, because Wanda escaped as many of them as she could and was already getting sloppy, and you well, in the routine of neighborhood friend and university, it was difficult to attend all the Avenger commitments.
Wanda had no trouble hitting you in training, and you almost thought she was doing it with a certain satisfaction. You couldn't blame her, she would certainly have got away with it if it hadn't been for your disastrous encounter earlier.
You just hoped that future interactions between you would be friendlier from then on.
-&-
The second time you missed a window in the Tower, your intention was not to be late.
This was because Natasha had asked - or politely threatened - you to organize your spider routine, if that was possible, and be present at the introduction of the New Avengers.
Well, that was rather unfair. In addition to your full-time job as a New York superhero, you also had college and your job as a Daily Bugle Photographer, so it should be understandable that delays would occur. But maybe that was your fault, for missing three birthdays in a row, and not even making it to Captain America's shield ceremony last month after Steve retired and assigned the job to Sam Wilson.
In any case, you tried to get to the tower for Kate Bishop's introduction to the team and ended up in the wrong room again.
Only this time it was worse, as you ended up bumping into the owner of the bedroom who certainly wasn't expecting to see anyone.
Wanda didn't fall to the floor with the impact only because you acted quickly and held her by the waist, turning your bodies so that the entire collision was on your back. Half the items in your backpack made a cracking sound behind you, but you didn't have a chance to check.
You were still grunting in pain when she pushed you away, and the action caused her towel to fall to the floor.
"I-I..."
"Don't look, you pervert!" She demanded infuriatedly, her face as red as yours. You turned away immediately, but the bedroom mirror allowed you to see her bending down to pick up the towel and you thought it best to close your eyes tightly.
"I swear to God I didn't mean to-"
"Zip it." She cut in, holding the towel tight against her body. "Out." She ordered, and you didn't need to be told twice.
You stumbled out with your eyes closed until you found the door, and Wanda had to look away and bite her lip to hide her smile for all the times you hit your head on something before leaving.
You didn't find her again until half an hour later when you had already met Kate Bishop and discovered that she would probably be a friend. She was a very funny girl, and your close age made it easy to get friendly with her.
She had just commented that it was amazing to have another Avenger going to NYU, and how you could go to classes together and have coffee when Wanda reappeared in the room and dropped something in your lap.
You stared wide-eyed at the red spider's underwear, clutching the item as if you expected it to disappear.
"You forgot it in my room." Said the witch with an indecipherable expression, but with eyes sparkling with mischief. Of course, she left out the part about the item falling out of your backpack during the disastrous encounter earlier, and that was enough for Sam to chuckle knowingly with Clint and Natasha from the kitchen counter when they whistled at the comment.
You turned as red as the colored garment. "I dropped it in her room." You tried to clarify in embarrassment, but Clint added.
"Oh, yes, that happens." He taunted, and you huffed in embarrassment as you got up to find your backpack and remove that outfit from their sight.
You only missed Wanda's satisfied look when Kate didn't invite you to take her to university again and the subject was forgotten.
-&-
The third time was intentional.
The Avengers were going through a very difficult time since the whole Winter Soldier thing became public, and even with Steve retired, Mr. Stark still wanted closure on the murder of his parents with Mr. Barnes.
It wasn't your business, but at the same time, it was because the Avengers were one big family and anything that happened to one had an impact on the whole team.
The atmosphere was rather miserable because it seemed that everyone was going through heartbreaking situations at the moment. Natasha and the Red Room, Bucky, Tony and Steve's drama, and Kate with her mother's arrest. Then there was Vision and the Space Stone that had been giving him nightmares, and well, Wanda, who was celebrating her first birthday alone since the death of her twin brother.
So the third time was intentional, because you had cupcakes in your backpack that were a bit of a mess, and you only came in after knocking.
Wanda still had to get used to the image of you hanging at that height.
"Hi." She greeted, not hiding her own discontent about that day. You continued to sit on the edge.
"Hey." You said with a small smile, twirling your bag in front of you. " I won't be bothering you, I just came to bring you something."
She grimaced, biting her lip. She wanted to say that you're rarely a nuisance, but instead, she remained silent.
You take out a closed box from your backpack, a little crumpled, but the contents are safe. There are several colorful, well-filled cupcakes from your favorite place in the center. All with little birthday decorations.
"I didn't know your favorite flavor, so I brought you one of each. If you're allergic to anything, we can throw it away."
Wanda doesn't take the box held out to her. "Hm, I don't... celebrate today." She says clumsily, looking away. You swallow dry, nodding.
"I didn't think so, but I wanted to... I don't even know what I wanted. I'm sorry, that was stupid of me. I'll take these away and leave you alone."
But Wanda grabbed you before you could leave the room, and instead of pulling away, she hugged you. Quickly, as a thank you, but it warmed your cheeks.
"That was sweet of you, okay? Thank you." She murmured just as embarrassed, busying herself with grabbing the box of cupcakes because she didn't know what to do with her hands.
You smiled. "No problem, Wanda." You say, and before you lose your nerve, you add. "To be honest, the cupcakes are just an excuse. I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to tell you that I'm here if you need a friend. I know how hard days like these are, and being alone is sometimes not a choice, it's the only option. I wanted you to know that there are people with whom you can share this pain. Or if you don't want to talk about it, these cupcakes."
The next hug is longer and makes you wish you'd missed the window more often, even if this time it was on purpose. Maybe when all the drama has passed, and Wanda trusts you to become friends, the window will stay open for you.
For now, she lets you stay to watch sitcoms with her and grimaces when you stumble out the window to answer a spider's call.
It's stupidly dangerous, she texts you that afternoon.
You respond with spider and web emojis.
-&-
The fourth time, you were bleeding.
Almost unconscious, and struggling to crawl through the windows. Fearing that the exhaustion and injuries would be enough for your powers to fail, and inevitably cause you to fall from the tower.
Perhaps it would have been better to take the front door.
You felt yourself losing consciousness, and your right hand detached from the glass. Before gravity could do its job, a familiar prickling sensation covered your entire body and you were pulled into Wanda Maximoff's room.
"What happened?"
She looked worried, almost desperate to be honest. Your appearance was probably not the best. Well, who could blame you? You've just guaranteed New York's safety for a while longer after one of the most intense fights in months. Why do villains dressed as animals always land such hard punches?
You try to smile at Wanda, to make a "You should have seen the other guy" joke, even though Rhino wasn't badly hurt and the victory was more thanks to your new electric friend and his tricks that knocked the big guy out, than to you. Maybe you're losing your grip.
Wanda didn't laugh, her powers put you against the soft cushions and the next thing that left your mouth was a grunt of pain when she touched your ribs.
"I'm gonna call Bruce-"
"No, I'm fine." You tried to move, but your body hated the idea. So did Wanda, because her magic became harder to ignore. "Please, Wands, I shouldn't be out there."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
And you have to ignore the pain to keep talking and try to look casual about it with a shrug that makes you wince. "I was still recovering from the last fight. I thought I could handle it."
"You're unbelievable." She grumbles, seeming to remember beyond her own busy routine, the image of your bandaged arm after the last villain you encountered. Clearly, it had been against the advice of the rest of the team that you had joined another fight, and obviously, the consequence of your stubbornness was swinging yourself utterly wrecked into her window at dawn. "You need an x-ray."
You groan but are unable to resist her magical efforts that force you to your feet and drag you into Bruce's lab.
The whole thing becomes a blur in your injured head. But you know that you've been given a hard time by at least half the team, until the medication kicks in and you feel better enough to realize that you're already lying on a bed, with Wanda Maximoff beside you.
"Sorry about the scare." You mumble, and you don't need to clarify any further for her to understand exactly what you mean. You know you'll probably have to work harder than that to remove your nearly dead figure from her memory, but that's a start.
Wanda doesn't take her eyes off the book but sighs. "It's okay."
You know that's not true. So you try to be honest with her.
"Today is one year since Aunt May died." You say quietly, just loud enough for the two of you in the Avengers' infirmary room to hear. Wanda immediately raises uncertain eyes. It's your turn to sigh and look away. "I just... couldn't keep myself from doing anything. When Miles' suit warned me about Rhino, it was the perfect distraction."
Wanda absorbs your words for a few seconds until she puts the book aside. She leaves the armchair and approaches the bed to sit down next to you.
"Next time, ask me to distract you." She says, one of her hands going up to your face and caressing some of your bandages. "We could watch a movie, or go out to eat. Or even..."
But she doesn't finish, her cheeks suddenly reddening. You give her a lopsided smile. "What?"
"I don't know, anything you want." Says the witch, turning her face away.
Mentally thanking Bruce for the painkillers that allow you to move, you sit up properly to lean toward her. "All right, I have a suggestion." You whisper, and it's the first kiss between you as you break the distance.
Wanda's lips are soft against yours, shy as she never is. Only with this kind of thing, of course. The goth girl who won't let anyone give her a bad look and has a punk attitude all the time, but can't keep her gaze if you wink at her from across the room. And always blushes when you text her that she looks pretty when she's concentrating on the Avengers meetings.
She's the one who separates, although just as breathlessly, she warns: "I'm still mad at you."
You bite back a smile, absorbing for a second the image of her swollen lips and flushed face. "Well, I suppose I should distract you from your anger then."
She snorts good-naturedly at the statement, but you kiss her before she can comment. The two of you keep smiling throughout.
-&-
The fifth time, it's a new window.
Well, actually it's a whole new place because Wanda Maximoff has left Avengers Tower and moved to suburban New Jersey. And you were late.
The whole team had already helped with the move and left after an afternoon snack at Wanda's new house. For the first time in a long time, New York had no villain after Spidey, and you were stuck in university bureaucracy.
You apologized dozens of times by text message for not being able to help with the move, and in fact, the whole team laughed at the situation. It was just bad luck that you missed such a fun afternoon.
It was late evening when you arrived on the dark balcony. Through the windows, the lower floor was empty and perhaps you had strange habits because you didn't even consider just ringing the bell. One tug of the webs and you were at the second-floor window, tapping on the glass for Wanda to let you in.
"We have a door, you know." It was the first thing she said. And you smiled, slightly distracted by the figure fresh out of the shower, still with damp hair.
"We?"
She scrunched her nose, her hands working to remove your backpack and jacket. "It's just semantics." She retorts, but you keep smiling. You let the jacket fall into the backpack on the floor before sliding your hands around her waist.
"Oh, of course. For a second I thought you had found a roommate."
She rolls her eyes bemusedly. "You know the invitation still stands."
You smile, your anxious fingers drawing patterns across the exposed skin at her waist. "Well, Captain Rogers' influence is making me a bit old-fashioned but before I move I'd like to do a few things first."
"Hm, is that right? Like what?"
Shrugging as if your heart wasn't racing in your chest, you retort. "Like... marrying you, for example."
Wanda hesitates, surprised more than anything. She looks at you as if she's trying to decide if it was a joke, but you don't feel her magic in your mind.
"Do you really mean that?" She asks almost unsurely, and you sigh before letting go. You duck down to pick up your backpack again and reveal the real reason for the extra half hour of your journey from the university.
A little velvet box hidden in the front pocket.
"I was saving it for our anniversary, but I don't think there's such a thing as the right moment. Every day I'm ready to marry you, and I don't need a dinner party for that." You declare nervously and swallow dryly when you meet your girlfriend's watery eyes. "B-but I can totally ask you next week-"
She breaks into a tearful laugh, pulling you close again. "Shut up, you fool." She says practically against your lips before kissing you hard.
It's only later in the evening, after you've laughed and kissed and lost yourselves in hours of pleasure exploring each other's bodies, for the first time holding hands with golden rings on your fingers, that you, still breathless with Wanda almost asleep against your chest, ask:
in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)
pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader
chapter summary ★ twitter's sole purpose is for you to thirst over your wife, the beach is a good place to spend time with your kids, and ogle at your wife in a bathing suit, but not a great a place to have sex. (lesson learnt).
warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, hard stuff: beach sex, doggy style, cunnilingus, daddy kink, SO MUCH thirsting
word count ★ 4.0k (get fed gremlins)
SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST
*****
In tandem with Tony Stark’s spontaneity, Steve Rogers’ unending enthusiasm, and the fact that you privately owned close to twenty beach resorts in New York alone, the lot of you and your other friends had a beach outing planned for that Sunday.
After the astronomically long time it took to get your kids dressed, beach toys packed, picnic dinner prepared, and everything loaded into the car, five happy L/N-Romanoffs finally kickstart their journey to the Westview Surfers’ Beach.
“SAND!” Emilia roars maniacally, once the five of you step foot onto the sandy shore. She’s gone like the ocean breeze, sprinting into the distance, grains of sand flying everywhere.
“Sea! Sea! Sea!” Emilio is equally as excited, already by the tide of the brilliantly blue ocean, following its ebb and flow with scampering feet and delighted cries.
“Careful, Emilio!” Marina says, holding his hand, preventing her over excited brother from falling over. You can see the way she laughs along, kicking up water with her slippers.
Behind your eager children, you swing you and Natasha’s interlocked hands as you casually stroll along the beach, giving her a sweet smile.
The sand that crunched beneath your feet was earthen and dry, such a gentle hue of gold, almost as grounding as the bright smile your wife returned.
“You look heavenly,” you murmur, bringing up the underside of your wife’s palm to press a gentle kiss to it. She flushes prettily, the sundress she’s adorning doing wonders to her skin tone and curves.
Natasha returns the softness, pressing into your side as you wrap a firm arm around her waist, hand cupping the curve of her motherly hips.
“Oy, lovebirds!”
At the sound of a distinctly familiar voice, you and Natasha spin around with bemused looks. From a distance, you can see Tony with a flamingo floatie around his hips, waving comically.
Next to him, the regular gang is sprawled across three separate picnic mats, conveniently hidden from the sun under several large beach umbrellas.
Pepper is fixing up Tony’s floatie, to which Carol and Valkyrie snicker at from afar. Thor is asleep on the mats, taking up more than half the area. Laura is busy reading, with Clint probably gone to find seashells for the sandcastle Bucky and Steve are constructing. The kids make a long human chain from the shore to the sandcastle, scooping up buckets of water to make a trench.
“Aunty Y/N! Aunty Nat!” Nathaniel squeals, dropping his bucket, running over and leaping into your arms.
“What’s up, you little rascal?” you ask, laughing as the youngest Barton giggles. Natasha ruffles his head, waving at Lila.
Morgan, being the same age as Emilia and Emilio, is already chatting excitedly with them and kicking up a loud racket. Marina joins Cooper in attaining bucketfuls of seawater.
“What’s up, my favourite lesbians?” Tony calls out to you and Natasha with outstretched arms, comically ignorant to the death-glare Valkyrie shoots him.
Natasha rolls her eyes in faux annoyance, strolling past him and brightening up animatedly to chat with the ladies. You pat Tony’s back sympathetically.
Your attention flits to an impressively large sandcastle with a sculpture of a mermaid on top, hand-crafted by Steve and Bucky. Leaning closer to Tony, you whisper, “Why does the mermaid kinda look like you?”
Leaving him to splutter at his intentionally uncanny resemblance to the mermaid, with a seashell bra and an elegant tail, you look up to see Clint coming back with his arms full of seashells.
“Hi, Y/N!” He greets distractedly. In the midst of his frantic haste, Clint’s foot gets caught on a stray rock —
And the rest is a scene out of a comedy movie.
The seashells go flying out of his arms, scattering onto the picnic mat and spraying sand everywhere, Clint loses his balance and flies forward, outstretched arms knock into the sandcastle, and everyone watches in horror as Steve and Bucky’s great unfinished symphony comes crumbling down, leaving only the head of Tony’s mermaid untouched.
A quiet hush falls.
Bucky and Steve’s faces are morphed into disbelief and heartbreak, and Clint trembles in fear with sand in his mouth. Tony shudders at his beheaded mermaid, the ladies have their hands over their mouths, and Natasha fights battles in order not to burst out laughing. Thor sleeps unperturbed, and even the kids' racket has died down.
“Well,” you announce, breaking the stunned silence. “Who wants to go surfing?”
*****
As Natasha lazes in a beach chair, away from the gory scene of Steve and Bucky dunking Clint in the seawater, she watches you with a budding fire in her belly.
Standing on the sand so casually, you have your hefty surfboard tucked under one arm, and Emilio in your other. You’re speaking to him with a roguish grin, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, tinted sunglasses pushed up to muss up your perfectly tousled hair.
“You ready to ride the waves, bub?”
“Yeah! I’m ready!”
Your wife swallows, thinking she was ready to ride something else.
Natasha crosses her legs unsubtly. It was honestly unfair, how indifferently attractive you were, like it was a state of being instead of a practised art.
Perhaps it was her love for you and the longevity of your marriage that warped her perception of sexiness, but when you were casually strolling on the beach with that chiselled abdomen on display, who was she to be blamed?
“Y/N!” Natasha calls, sitting up slightly. There’s a devious little idea blooming in the back of her mind, and she feels like taking the bait, just for today.
You look up at your wife’s beckoning, and smile widely at her. Setting Emilio down gingerly and calling him a “little rascal”, you jog over to Natasha easily.
When you flick your hair back, it glints in the sunlight, and so does the sheen of sweat under your sports bra, defining the cutting edges of your abdomen. Natasha has the criminal urge to rip off your swimming trunks there and then.
Despite your obliviousness, Natasha is more than well-aware of the stares you’re getting from young women and married women alike, momentarily disregarding their boyfriends and husbands to gawk at you.
“Damn, look at that fine specimen!”
“Ryan, why don’t you work out more?”
“There goes my heterosexuality.”
You get feasted upon hungry eyes like a slab of beef, likened to your beefiness, but it only makes Natasha’s possessiveness skyrocket.
“Hey, honey,” you say, settling on a low and inviting tone that has your wife blushing. You crouch down next to her beach chair, holding her hand in a sweet gesture. “What’s up?”
You’re close to her, so close, and she can feel the heat radiating off you, and your distinct scent, and the overwhelming senses of want and need are washing over Natasha like those tidal waves in the ocean.
But well, Natasha knew more than a few ways to rile you up too.
“I think I want to go surfing too,” she lies through her teeth, having no inclination to partake in the sport. Natasha fakes a pout all too well, knowing it’s one of your many weaknesses. “But the sun’s really hot out there, so I need some help with the sunscreen.”
It wasn’t like she’d have needed it, anyway. Just like that and you’re sold, ever the gentleman and the golden retriever, digging for the sunscreen in the duffel bag.
“Of course, honey,” you reply readily. “Is it the Banana Boat sunscreen, or is that the kids’ one? Oh wait, we have the SPF 50 one, I think that’s—”
Words trail off comically when you look back up at Natasha, gradually dying down completely.
Your wife has conveniently slid off her outer layer of a sheer white blouse, leaving her in just a matching two-piece set of an azure bathing suit. The top piece is held together with thin pieces of string, accentuating her chest in a tight cradle. The lack of coverage shows off the dip of her hips and her soft curves.
Coherent thoughts in your mindwires get severed as Natasha plays with the string on her bottom piece, nearly flashing you as the material slides down ever so slightly. Your throat dries up as her fingers trail a path over her tummy and cleavage. She plays with another bundle of string that keeps her chest barely covered, and the irresistible urge rises within you to undo it.
“My eyes are up here, y’know,” Natasha murmurs, laying on her side and looking at you through lowered lashes.
“I know where they are,” you answer hoarsely, gaze still fixated on your wife’s enticing cleavage.
The sheer amount of bare skin that Natasha is showing off has your remaining fragments of sanity falling to pieces. There’s no point even trying to hide the tent in your pants, poking uncomfortably against the fabric.
“Gonna help me lather sunscreen?” Natasha asks with a silky lilt to her voice, turning over on the beach chair.
You groan out loud when you see the curve of your wife’s ass on display, her rounded bottom barely covered by a few measly pieces of material, all held together by flimsy strings and nothing else.
“Mhm,” you respond brainlessly, uncapping the bottle and rubbing your hands with a bountiful amount of the moisture, clearly in excess.
You begin applying your wife’s sunscreen with overzealous eagerness and desire. Large hands spread unnecessarily widely as you gain coverage over the soft skin of her back, trailing up and down and smearing the white moisture over her soft skin.
“Oh, that feels nice,” Natasha says airily, a dainty little sound that causes your cock to twitch in your shorts.
The line down the middle of Natasha’s back is emphasised as she tenses and relaxes it. Like clockwork, you begin massaging your wife’s back to release the tension in her muscles.
“Y/N…” The breathy moan she lets out is pure heaven, dragged out from the depths of her throat, then lifting to a higher tone that washes over you in a sea of goosebumps.
Of course, your faux masseuse skillset is just a simple ploy to grope and knead at Natasha. Fat spills through your fingers as you spread your hands across her torso, as Natasha whines softly.
It wouldn’t take a genius to realise that the heat building between the two of you was not just due to the heatwaves under the beating, unforgiving sun.
Your frighteningly quickly-growing arousal only heightens when Natasha feels that her back is done and flips over. Face-to-face with her hefty mounds, a round belly, and the blown pupils of viridescent eyes — you lose the plot completely.
Deft hands fly to your wife’s ample assets, squeezing her hips in sinful amounts and staking your claim. “You’re so pretty, baby,” you mumble, face buried into the crook of her neck, subtly mouthing at her neck.
“Mhm,” Natasha whines in agreement, but it turns into a gasp as your fingers slip underneath the material of her bra, plucking at hardened nipples in merciless haste.
You press down onto her, flat tongue and sharp teeth, licking a broad stripe up your wife’s exposed collarbone to the tender column of her neck.
Before you can taint clear skin with raging-purple bruises, you’re pulled away with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You look back up to see Natasha gazing at you sternly.
“Let’s try not to perpetuate public sex while you are the owner of this place, with all our friends present, and the kids building sandcastles no less than ten feet away.”
Much to your disgruntlement, these factors weigh in heavily and overpower your body’s built-in “pretty-wife-need-to-worship” mechanic. Now, your shorts fill up a lot more space than need be, your shaft pressing hot and tight against your left leg, clearly visible.
You grumble, hands still clammy with sunblock, the ghost of Natasha’s warmth still interlaced between each of your fingers. “You’re a meanie,” you sulk, lust-driven adrenaline coursing through your veins.
Natasha looks at you with a wicked smile. “And you’re too susceptible, darling. Now, where’s my flask? I plan on staying plenty hydrated before watching you rough it out against the waves.”
Clearly put-off by not being able to fuck your wife in your public beach resort, you flip off a little kid who openly ogles at Natasha’s ass, much to your wife’s horror.
*****
“I’M NOT BUILT FOR THIS!” Tony screams, arms flailing, as he rides a shallow wave. His firmly implanted foot adds too much weight on the front of his neon yellow surfboard, and the over-eager man overturns comically as the current rushes.
You laugh out loud, Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, surfing past Tony in a smooth motion. “Stick to the flamingo floatie, little guy!”
Valkyrie barely dodges the splash Tony creates, nearly falling off her own board. “Fuck off, you cunt!” she yells, full-chested and deadly focused on the tide. From a distance in the shallower part of the ocean, a reprimanding “Language!” can be heard.
Natasha’s wading in the shallower waters with Laura, while Thor had opted to sun tan on the beach while watching the kids.
As a large wave approaches, Natasha watches with intent. Upon your wife’s new found attention, you mentally prepare yourself, determined to impress her, and perhaps get revenge for her prior ploy.
You manoeuvre deftly, putting weight on your back foot to stabilise as you approach the wave head-on. Three… two… one. You add even more weight on your back foot as you go around the back turn while gaining speed, garnering energy like a coiled spring.
As the wave reaches its full height, broad and steep, your calves release with impact, propelling up the barrel of the wave like a spring. The surfboard moves in effortless motion, anchored by your back foot, navigated by your right.
The second you reach the lip of the wave, you find the sweet spot to execute the backside tail slide. You rotate your wide-set shoulders, swiftly switching the pressure to your front foot.
Your surfboard glides off the surface for a split-second, turning mid-air — there’s a camera-worthy frame of damp hair, stray droplets, and focused eyes.
You slide back down at an oblique angle with purpose and precision, like a scene out of a movie, locking eyes with Natasha as the wave crashes behind you.
“Damn, Y/N!” Carol hoots, looking amazed as you surf back to the rest of the gang.
“That was crazy,” Steve adds, resting belly-down onto the surfboard, strikingly adorable for a hulking man.
“Gotta admit, that was pretty cool,” Tony comments, his head bobbing above the surface of the water and his surfboard nowhere to be found.
You laugh along with them, attempting to explain the technical jargon of how you did it. But as much as you appreciated your friends’ enthusiasm, there was ultimately only one person you sought validation from.
“Hi,” you say to Natasha with a stupid smile, sitting on your surfboard, having escaped the rest.
“That was very sexy of you,” your wife wastes no time in stating, as if she wasn’t five millimetres away from flashing you and killing you with her sexiness.
Natasha is stuck on the image of your damp hair flying into place like a scene out of a superhero movie, unbuttoned shirt flailing up to expose your defined back and abdomen, concentration flashing in your eyes.
“Mhm,” you hum lowly. Fire burns low in your belly as you ogle your wife in her bathing suit, pulling her closer by the underside of her thighs.
In a moment of indiscretion, your left hand slips upwards and undoes the knot on Natasha’s bathing suit, letting the material slip from your fingers.
“Y/N!” Though blocked from view of the others as it was underwater, Natasha lets out a breathy gasp and presses into you. Her cunt, already soaked before, gets even wetter at the intrusion of seawater.
“Can I claim my prize?” you ask heavily, hot pants against your wife’s ear, driving her wild with the way your fingers slip through her folds to encroach on her entrance.
In no time at all, two of your fingers are at Natasha’s cunt, feeling slick even underwater, and you push in—
“Group picture!” Steve yells from a distance, as you and your wife effectively leap apart in the water, the heated moment dissipated into thin air.
But it lingers, the arousal, swimming in the back of your consciousness as you smile for a group selfie. Bucky’s arm is around you but you thank the heavens for hiding your erection under the water.
You can tell Natasha feels the same, eyes locking on you even after Steve successfully takes the group picture. (After many attempts.)
“I’m gonna go check on the kids,” Natasha finally says, gesturing back as if she was going to walk back to shore. She’s expectant, waiting.
“And I think I’m gonna go check with her!” you add, chuckling awkwardly, beckoning backwards with your thumbs.
“Okay,” Steve says disbelievingly, eyes glimmering with knowing and just a little amusement. Tony is much less subtle in his sniggering, and Clint looks horrified at the prospect of doing it at the beach.
Tony claps you on the back as you walk past. “Use protection,” he whispers, and you fumble out a haphazard response.
*****
Turns out, you and Natasha don’t even make it to a completely secluded area before you’re half-undressed and panting.
And maybe that’s half the thrill, hidden in a secluded beach cave, with regular people roaming around just outside. You’re pressed skin-to-skin with each other and tuning out everything else.
You groan as you snap the strings of Natasha’s bathing suit off, finally, finally. Teardrop tits bounce in place, shaking with the impact of how hard you jerk against your wife, unbearably uncomfortable in the constraints of your boxers.
Natasha takes mercy on you, helping you to tug down your Calvin Clein briefs, watching with heady arousal as your shaft slaps against your six-pack, red and raw and leaking.
“Hurry up,” Natasha whines, bending over and clutching at a stray rock, ass in the air as she exposes her leaking cunt to you.
“Fuck, baby,” you groan, grabbing onto her ass and slapping it just because you can. You sink deep into your wife, warmth and relief enveloping you as you bury yourself inside her.
The first thrust is like heaven, feeling the pulse and push of Natasha’s walls as she accommodates to take your size, stretching to a familiar extent because you’d made a nest in there for yourself.
The second thrust takes you there, an insurgent amount of slick coating your cock, flooding the path you proceed to pummel into. “Natty,” you whine, groping at her ass and pulling it closer to you, hilt-deep with no signs of stopping.
“Mhm, daddy,” Natasha moans, walls fluttering around you as you pull out, trying to stop your escape. But then you thrust forward, again, warm and full and deep, and your wife wails beneath you.
Natasha lets this velvet sound from her throat, silky and coated in honey as she breathes reinvigorated life into your arousal.
“Fuck,” you growl, rutting your hips with more rigour. Natasha whines, wrists suspended behind her back with one of your hands as you have your way with her.
“Baby I’m gonna come,” you gasp, virility cloaking the way your abdomen presses up against Natasha, left hand encircling her neck to bring your hot mouth up to hers.
You’re hardly embarrassed for how fast you’re barrelling towards climax, as Natasha is in much more of the same position. She’s panting your name, clutching at the rocks with hard sand digging into her feet. Your cock nudges and prods into her sweet spots effortlessly, the result of countless sex experiences.
“M-me too,” she responds breathily, breaking off into a whine as you press heated, open-mouthed kisses along the line of her back, tasting the salt and sweat on your tongue.
Pleasure blossoms in your lower torso, creeping up the base of your shaft and working its way upwards. Hot arousal overflows from its constraints, and your teeth sinks into your bottom lip as you come, quick and hot and messy.
“Oh!” Natasha moans, high-pitched and sensitive, as you pluck at her ruby-hard nipples. It only takes a few more thrusts for her to reach release, dripping down your cock and her thighs.
“Mhm, nhn—” As your wife raises in pitch and volume, you stuff three fingers into her open mouth, giving her something to suck on and remain quiet. You continue with gentle thrusts, feeling thick white liquid flow out the side of Natasha’s ruined cunt.
“Needa taste you,” you suddenly grunt, hips bumping into Natasha’s ass. She babbles her agreement, despite being half-conscious in a state of post-orgasmic pleasure.
Easily, you lift Natasha and set her down onto the sandy shore of the beach cave, where the tide is low and washes over your feet gently.
It’s a change of pace, a gradual end to your savage ravaging, slow and sensual, where the water meets the sand. You lower yourself between Natasha’s spread thighs, lips slightly parted and dripping with need.
Natasha swallows audibly, right hand twisting into your tousled hair, looking at you through hooded eyes and lowered lashes.
Words are left unspoken between the two of you, the tension speaking for itself, as you retain eye contact while lowering your mouth onto Natasha’s pulsing cunt.
You take your last breath of the fresh sea salt air and summer breeze before drowning in unbridled desire. As if making out passionately, you eat your wife out, switching between licking and sucking.
Poetry is written between the lines — the lilt of Natasha’s hitched breath, the crease of her thighs where your fingertips drag across, the shallow water that wades over your feet in a cool decrescendo.
Your head dips down once more, warm and wet, and the sun melts into the horizon, glazing golden and liquid orange.
With your tongue lodged fully inside your wife’s pussy, marking your inability to breathe, and wide hands spread firmly over Natasha’s thighs, the two of you converge in saintly devotion, hushed worship falling from her lips.
“Please, just like that, please, daddy, please.”
Just like that, and the ocean swallows you whole, taking you under Natasha’s hold inescapably. Your name is said in a breathless cry, lilting and pronounced, and you shudder between her clenched thighs.
“Nat?”
“Yeah?”
“I think there’s ocean water up my asshole.”
“Yeah, I got some sand up my vagina too.”
*****
and that's chapter two of 'hiwthi'! how did yall feel about the introduction of the rest of the cast? i personally enjoyed writing the build-up scenes the most. (sunscreen and surfing!) and for those keen on expanding the family dynamic, i'll be building on that in the next chapter!
reblog or i will take 292857192 years to post the next part
hey! Could you make reader and Natasha as parents? reader being that type of mother (or another gender I don't know) who takes her children to all their games and teaches them how to play tennis and Natasha being the worried mother who is afraid of their children getting hurt
one-shot of forty, love
synopsis: a combination of the different requests above, and below, of natasha and R as parents :) lmk if you guys are interested in seeing more of these two!
natasha romanoff x tennis player! reader
word count: 3.5k words
warning: smut below, skip if you're under 18 or uncomfortable reading!
masterlist
“almost hit it, a little closer!”
thwock.
“there we go! you can do it, let’s do a last forehand, sweetheart.”
thwock.
“another!” this time, the voice came from the tiny girl far across the court, shouting out to you as you kept the last of the tennis balls. you shouted back that it was nearly time for dinner, and that you didn’t want to make her mother wait, but she was insistent, just like her mother was.
you relented, sighing as you prepared the serve, and hit. but this time, the hit was just a slightly bit ill-timed, off the pace of the usual strength you would serve to a kid her size. but she was already running, and before you could call out that it was going to be too far for her to hit, she had dived, trying to hit the ball desperately with her racket. unfortunately, she lost her balance, and the next thing you remembered was your own feet carrying you as fast as they could to the other side of the court, rushing to the aid of the crying child.
your daughter instinctively reached out for your arms as you bent down to pick her up, face already red from her tears. she was in as much shock as you were, as you looked down towards her scraped knee, the abrasion causing little trickles of blood to run across the broken skin. natasha’s going to kill me, you thought, as you began rocking the little girl and apologising profusely.
“i’m sorry, so sorry, my love, mummy’s serve was too far,” you consoled her, her fingers gripping the ends of your shirt as tightly as she could.
you let her calm down for a bit, before taking another look at the injury. “is it bad…mummy?”
you looked back up at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “nothing a band-aid and a kiss can’t fix.”
with her lips still trembling, you brought a bottle of water to wash off any debris from the abrasion, and began patching the wound up. then, right after, your lips landed on the band-aid, and said, “there, boo boo is gone. my brave girl.”
her mood considerably lifted when you offered her a piggyback ride all the way home, and when the both of you walked past an ice-cream shop, you offered her a sweet treat in exchange for her not mentioning a word to natasha.
–
“you’re both late for dinner,” a voice called out from the kitchen as you entered the house, the smells from dinner in the oven already enticing you further and further in.
you looked towards your daughter nervously, her mouth still a little sticky with leftover chocolate, but her smile back towards you indicated that she was intending to keep her promise. but you didn’t even get a chance to say another word to her, for in the next moment, natasha had rounded the corner, carrying a deep dish of lasagna in thick oven mitts. she glanced towards the both of you, and beyond glancing at the sweat that glistened on your daughter’s forehead, her keen sense of observation from her years as a reporter instinctively caught the anomaly in the form of the band-aid.
the girl happily munched on with dinner, as she watched in curiosity, and slight amusement, natasha angrily pulling you away to the kitchen again.
“what did we just talk about yesterday? what did i just tell you?”
you pursed your lips, head hung low as you kicked the floor ashamedly. “that i was training her…a little bit tough.”
“too tough!” she exclaimed, hands on her hips this time. she was a sight to behold, nine months pregnant with your second baby, face scrunched in annoyance, but still looking absolutely glowing. it was unfair just how beautiful she was, even standing a head shorter than you were and stance ready to bite off your head. “and look what’s happened! she injured herself!”
on the other hand, natasha was fighting off the urge to forgive you right away, as you pouted and reached out for her hands, saying, “sorry. i promise it won’t happen again. please don’t be angry, please…?”
you watched her roll her eyes, before sighing. “you are such a child.”
“sorry,” you said in a cuter tone. you were playing to her weaknesses.
“let’s just eat dinner. i’m starving. baby is too.” you smiled, knowing you won when natasha allowed you to kiss her in appreciation for her forgiveness.
afterwards, when natasha still had worry lines pertinent on her forehead as she inspected the scrape on your daughter’s knee while the three of you watched a movie, you caught yourself being webbed into a danger zone again. you knew better than to say it’s not that bad to a very hormonal, very pregnant woman who was fighting the urge to scream i told you so at you.
so when your wife got up for a toilet break later on, and was making her way back, she caught you on your knees in front of the girl, speaking lowly to her. “–you have to tell her, okay? you have to tell mama that mummy is very sorry, and to not be angry at her. tell mama that if she stays angry at mummy, mummy will be very sad.”
that alone was enough for natasha to finally forgive you, almost scoffing with how cute she found the scene in front of her was.
–
natasha was waiting outside when you shut your daughter’s room, safely tucked into bed, injury forgotten as she hugged her teddy to sleep. you raised your eyebrows in question. usually she would have already been in bed, the strain on her back too much to remain sitting and standing for long. however, this time, even though her features looked exhausted, she came to you.
you instantly knew what was bothering her when her arms seeked out for yours, just like her daughter’s did. you enveloped her in an embrace, when she muttered, “i’m in so much pain right now.”
nearing the end of her third trimester, you knew this second pregnancy was taking a heavier toll on her than your first one had. most nights you felt terrible that you couldn't help to shoulder even an ounce of the physical pain she was enduring by herself. but you could help her, at least.
“turn around,” you guided her to have her back towards you, and natasha knew what was coming. still, when your hands found the bump underneath her, and gently lifted it to rest the weight on you instead, it didn’t stop the cry of relief from escaping her lips. her body instinctively rested against yours as well, feet thanking the heavens for the lightness she was suddenly experiencing.
“i love you, i love you so much,” she whimpered, and you kissed her neck tenderly as you muttered that it was the least you could do.
you held on as the both of you kept each other in that intimate embrace, when natasha muttered, “i had such a bad day today too, and with the baby being like this, i’m sorry i got annoyed at you for nora’s scrape.”
“it’s alright, it was my fault,” you replied, “served too hard. tell me about your day, my love.”
“i–” natasha suddenly felt tears springing to her eyes, hearing the soothing tone of your voice. but she pressed on, “–jenny, from the crime division, she yelled at me today. said i gave her the wrong tip-off, led her down the wrong path and losing the lead. in front of everyone in the department. and you know what’s the worst part?”
you kept silent, feeling small droplets of tears on your skin already, “...i just stood there, and took it. stood there…and i cried. like i was a new hire, an intern, for fuck’s sake. i let her step all over me like that.”
she felt your lips on her cheek this time, kissing away the angry and frustrated streaks down her face. “natasha, it’s normal to feel like this. she was being a bitch, and very unprofessional.”
“still! i…i…stupid hormones,” she cried, clearly more vexed with herself than anything else.
but you were there to reassure her that she didn’t deserve to berate her own body for having heightened emotions. “her outburst reflects more on her as a person than it does on you. you did nothing wrong, everyone makes mistakes, and it wasn’t your fault she lost the lead. your feelings are valid, and there is nothing wrong with crying, baby. with or without the hormones, you shouldn’t be embarrassed for reacting in that way, and i’m sure your colleagues all know that she’s unreasonable for lashing out at you like that.”
natasha didn’t look convinced, pent-up emotions still simmering in her chest, and you knew it. she believed you, but not so much of herself. so you kissed her again, to gain her attention, and coaxed her to a hot bath that the two of you would share, knowing that it would alleviate both her physical and mental ailments.
–
the hot water was calming, almost liberating, to almost every fibre of her body. with the water taking the weight off the shoulders, she found it easier to relax against you, the skin to skin contact soothing her even more. she was lucky that she still had you, even after the day she had, she thought.
“better?” your smile made her mirror one herself, nodding as you began massaging shampoo into her wet hair.
“better.”
with your fingers in her hair, her body almost weightless in the water, natasha could finally let her guard down. she could finally tell you, something that you knew had been bothering her for a while.
“i feel like this one is going to be bigger than nora was,” she quietly said.
“i think so too.”
she sighed when your hands came to massage her shoulders. “...what if my body doesn’t return…to my usual size…after this? what if i can’t lose the weight?”
the massage stopped briefly, you sighing behind her. “you know it won’t matter to me. as long as you and the baby are healthy.”
“i know, i know,” you had told her, even in her first pregnancy, that you didn’t care if her body changed, if her looks changed, after the pregnancy. it was only understandable, you thought, for all that she was doing for you both by carrying the child, “but i just–i feel–i won’t be attractive to you anymore, after all this. i’ll just be a mom, and nothing more. what if the station ousts me, because i can’t chase around stories at their beck and call anymore? because i have to be home early most nights, to pick up the kids, because i can’t work so many weekends in a row, because i have to spend time with my family?”
“natasha,” you quelled her worries, “first, you shouldn’t feel guilty for making more time for your family, for being a mom. besides, we can always afford to hire help, and if i don’t have matches, i’ll be there to attend to the kids. you’re amazing, you’ve always been amazing, the station can’t kick you out just because you decided to have a family. if they do…you know i’ll have a strongly-worded email from my team sent to them in the next second. and if you do decide to take a little time off to spend more time with the kids, i’ll support you, i’ll support us, no matter what. whatever you want, i’ll be there to support your decisions, i’ll be there to back you up through it all.”
“and second…” slowly, natasha felt the hands that were on her shoulders travel lower and lower, “...only a madman would ever think that you are any less attractive, any less sexy, with the beautiful body you are graced with from pregnancy. in fact, i think i find you even more sexy with how you looked after giving birth to nora, and if possible, even sexier than that now that you’re pregnant again.”
your fingers had entered the soft, spongy walls that they had memorised their way around, working expertly at natasha’s gasp of the intrusion. your other hand on her breasts, natasha let out a soft whimper when they began working miraculously together, her brain already turning to mush. “i must be insane to ever have the thought of you being unattractive cross my mind. when that happens, shoot me.”
another finger entered her, your mouth travelling from her neck, to the valley of her breasts, pressing open-mouthed kisses until she felt them latch on to her nipples, making eye contact with her as you let out a sly smirk, sucking. natasha broke eye contact when another thought crossed her head, “you’re crazy. so many years together, then so many years apart, don’t tell me–don’t tell me–you’ve never found anyone else that caught your eye. a player, a reporter, the celebrities that come to your matches…i’ve seen them–trying to get your attention–your number. i’ve seen–”
natasha was cut off with a yelp as you moved to the other breast, biting down slightly. “–the way they look at you. and it’s hard to get angry, when i know i would do the same, because you’re so…hot.”
you finally let go, letting up a small chuckle as your fingers quickened their pace. “natty, natty, natty.”
“what’s so funn–”
another gasp escaped her throat as you found her g-spot, where she needed you most. “–is it so hard to believe that you’re the only one i want, the only one i’ve ever wanted? nobody else comes close, you are all my eyes can see.”
she was writhing and moaning in your hold now, fuelling the ego that had been steadily growing as you started worshipping your wife. with the bathwater sloshing and her hands gripping the edge of the bathtub, you whispered, “careful. we don’t want to wake the baby, do we? let mama have her fun for a bit.”
“oh my god.” at the final roll of her hips, “i’m gonna cum.”
“then let go, sweetheart.”
the moan natasha let out sounded almost otherworldly, earth-shatteringly delicious to your ears, as you felt her squeeze in and crumble around you, trapping your fingers in her while she came undone, head in the space between your neck and your shoulder, eyes shut in pleasure. you met her lips with yours, assuring her, “i love you, i love you, i love you.”
it was almost unfair how ethereal she looked, post-orgasm and looking up with you with her eyes glazed. you could only meet her with the kisses she so badly craves after nights like these, each time marvelling about how pretty your wife looked in your arms.
–
“you don’t have to come for the match tomorrow if your back still hurts, baby,” you reassured her later on, after carrying her out of the tub and helping her dress, as natasha slowly dozed to sleep with how tired she was, and how comfortable she felt.
but your words seemed to stir her awake. “no, it’s okay. i’ll come. i want to come.”
your smile to her was almost patronising, to which she scoffed at and held your hand to drag you into bed. “i’m serious. i’ll be there.”
“it’s only a semifinal.”
“still important to me.”
“tomorrow’s your only day off this week. don’t you want to spend it resting?”
“i want to spend it supporting you.”
“and if i don’t win?”
“still important to me. all the more important to me. means you won’t be away for the finals in france, means you can be with me for a few more weeks until your next tournament.”
at your sigh of relief, and contentment, natasha let the ends of her lips curl upon feeling you kiss her cheeks lovingly. “i don’t deserve you. i’ll make sure you’re comfortable tomorrow. it’s going to be a long game.”
sleepily, she replied, “you better.”
–
it was your daughter that won your attention first, as you approached the stands after the semifinals win to thank the crowd. her little hands reaching for your embrace from the first row, natasha watched as your eyes positively beamed as she felt you take over her hold from her. the crowd roared even louder, if possible, seeing nora balanced on your hips and celebrating your win with you. it was a scene to behold, and one that natasha knew would be etched in her mind for a lifetime.
this was all she ever wanted. this was all she could ever ask for. even as you invited her down to the court to take pictures with your family, even as the photographer almost blinded her with the flash as you wrapped your arms around her and your daughter.
–
thumbing over the printed photograph of the match earlier, safe in your arms in bed again, natasha couldn’t help but realise it; you really did only have eyes for her. your team and coach were in the frame along with the family, and in the candid shot that had become natasha’s favourite, your eyes were only on hers, gazing at her lovingly as she kissed your daughter’s cheek in the shot.
said daughter was beside her in that moment, the skies outside thundering loudly and her crawling into bed between the both of you just minutes before. her heart pooled into a puddle when she woke up to you comforting her and wiping away her tears. she looked almost exactly like natasha, so alike that she felt she was given a second chance with her life in nora. her chance to love you right.
she only felt you again a few hours later, returning from bringing nora back to her room after she decided she wasn’t scared anymore, and accidentally falling asleep holding her hand in her own room. you slipped into bed with her, and reached for her touch again.
your eyes were closed, but you weren’t asleep, sleepily rubbing circles on natasha’s back. you had earlier given her a massage and spoiled her rotten, even though you had a match earlier in the day, even though she knew you must have been more than exhausted.
“baby,” she called out, readjusting her position, “i know you said we could have as many kids as i am willing to push out of me.”
“mm, of course. we could even have an army if you wanted to.”
“well, if you ever catch me saying that i want one more after birthing this one, please slap me.”
there was a mirthless chuckle from your end, when suddenly, your hands were caught in a death grip, natasha nearly crushing your fingers. shooting up out of bed, you screamed, “ouch! natasha, why–”
then you saw it. but even if you hadn’t seen it in the dark of the night, you definitely felt it; the rush of wetness that had gushed onto the bed. natasha had her eyes shut in pain, still, allowing the contraction to pass, and you knew they were definitely not false alarms this time. her water had broke.
“okay, okay,” you had been through this once before, but the panic, and anxiety, settled in all the same. “okay, you stay right here, i’m getting the hospital bag, then i’ll call the hospital, and then i’m calling steve to come over to pick up nora, just…wait here.”
“can’t–really–go–anywhere,” natasha gritted her teeth. she sounded murderous.
you scooped her up just minutes later, settling into your arms as you carried her bridal style, just like you had the night of your wedding, and so many nights after. only this time, natasha was struggling to control her breathing, trying not to suffocate you with how hard she was holding onto you. she couldn’t wait to get the baby out and get it over and done with already.
–
“aaargh!” she screamed as you carried her through the hospital doors, the team already prepared to wheel her in to prep her. still, she refused to let go of your hand, insisting on you staying by her side even as she changed into her hospital gown, and especially as she faced contraction after contraction.
you were almost worried she was going to destroy your playing hand, but thought it was worth it; ending your career to ensure she safely gave birth. it was a fair tradeoff. you even joked, “guess i’m not going to france for the final after all.”
if natasha wasn’t in so much pain she would have strangled you. you were supposed to catch a flight the next day. “if you even dare step out of this room before i pop this baby out, i am divorcing you, you hear me?”
the doctors struggled to hide their amused grins, as you quickly reached for your phone to call your manager to cancel the flight and the match upon hearing her words.
warnings: dark fic, mentions of blood, murder, toxic behavior, stalking, power bottom!nat, strap on use, slapping, scratching, possessiveness, smut 18+
a/n: another repost, this is required reading (she's making a comeback ladies (gn))
🚩 warnings are clearly stated please do not report/flag :) 🚩
words: 4k | feedback is always welcome | masterlist
divider source | gif source
Natasha Romanoff wouldn’t call herself a possessive person. She was never one to hold on to things for a long time, or really care about them sticking around.
Until you came around.
From the second you saw Natasha you were hooked. Her smug grin and carefree snarky attitude immediately lured you in. You’d never wanted anyone else so bad in your life, and the redhead never felt so wanted. But the feeling of wanting and being wanted was not one Natasha was familiar with. The fight between wanting to keep you to herself and her detached personality an everyday battle.
She managed it, upheld the same rules she kept with every one else with you, even though everything in her wanted to break them. Don’t spend the night, don’t let them leave a mark, don’t chase, and most important of all leave them wanting more. She was almost as obsessed with how many people chased after her than with herself. Then you came along and threatened to change that.
She didn’t understand what it was about you. Maybe it was the way you would look for her whenever you had class together, or how if you bumped into her on campus you’d always offer to go for coffee. And that one time Natasha was cold and you offered her your jacket, that was a day she would never forget.
It was early spring and the day looked deceptively warm outside Natasha’s window. The sheer tights, miniskirt, and long sleeve in her closet almost screaming at her to be worn. It wasn’t until she was halfway across campus that she realized those were not enough layers. As if that wasn’t enough of a start to her day, some freshman on a bike almost bumped right into her, the close call sending her into the bushes and making her tights snag on the small twigs.
“Shit,” She muttered under her breath.
“Watch where you’re going, kid!” She heard your voice before she felt your hand on her lower back, her cheeks involuntarily reddening. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” She reached down to where her tights were snagged, but couldn’t quite reach.
“I got it-”
“No you have to be careful, it will rip.”
“Yeah, Natasha, I got it, now stop moving,” You hand grabbed onto her thigh, the gesture somehow more intimate that any other moment you’d spent together between hickeys and clothes falling to the floor. “There you go, good as new.”
She noticed the way you stopped yourself from kissing where the twig had been. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Natasha bit her lip as she looked up at you fighting the urge to connect your lips. She had class to attend. You were just a tardy waiting to happen. “Wanna grab coffee?”
“I-” A wind blew past the two of you, making Natasha’s words falter as goosebumps rose to her skin. “I have class.”
“Do you want my jacket?” Your question was so unexpected she didn’t even have the chance to protest before you were draping the material over her shoulders. “I’ll see you later, Nat.”
And with a kiss on the cheek you were gone and Natasha Romanoff has never been the same. Ever since she revelled in the attention you gave her, got drunk on your compliments and breathed your admiration every time you were around. She couldn’t let something so sweet get away from her.
You only wished she’d tell you. Ever time it seemed like you were one step closer to her she would take twenty steps away. You weren’t exactly fond of it but Natasha was worth playing games for. You’d be her pawn for as long as she wanted.
She couldn’t help the way her head picked up from the book she was reading in a far away corner of the library when she heard your laugh. Natasha didn’t like the way she couldn’t control the smile threatening her lips, but it quickly faded when her eyes zeroed in on where this girl - is that fucking Gen? - you were with was touching you. It was just a friendly touch on your arm but it still made the redhead sick to her stomach.
You didn’t notice her, too focused on trying to finish the project you were working on with your assigned partner Gen. The project was due the following week and the two of you had procrastinated long enough. Natasha watched you the whole time. She changed where she was sitting to behind the two of you after she had finished her work, not wanting to risk any chances of you looking up and seeing her.
It wasn’t until the sun had set and the library was closing that you and your partner got up to leave. Natasha was already upset, watching you like a hawk. It wasn’t until you opened your mouth that she got mad.
“Do you wanna grab coffee?” She heard your voice in the distance, making her stop in her tracks. She held her arms close to her body trying to keep herself from pacing.
“It’s late, I probably shouldn’t,” She said, starting to walk away from the library. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, for sure,” Another touch to your arm and Natasha was on her way towards you, almost fuming. Nobody gets to touch what’s hers.
“Y/N, hey,” Her voice had no traces of anger, her hands slid up your arm to your shoulder as you turned to her, her fingers stroking the back of your neck. You smiled down at her, your hand instinctively reaching down to her waist and pulling her closer.
“Hi Nat,” You answered. She almost purred with your hands on her. “What are you still doing on this part of campus so late?”
“I was just working late,” She said, pointing her head towards the library you were just in. “Do you wanna grab coffee?”
“I’d love to,” You said, then pulled her closer, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “I have really good coffee at my place.”
“That’s funny, I was just gonna suggest we go there anyway,” She laughed, an airy gasp leaving her lips when yours touched just below her earlobe. “Do you invite all the girls you meet to your place?”
“Only the pretty ones,” You joked, pulling away from her and taking her hand. She slyly let go of it, walking alongside you in the direction to your apartment building. You lived a short walk away from campus, the whole time the two of you walked, Natasha though about all the other places Gen might have touched. “What are you staring at?”
“Nothing,” She said, her arms snaking around yours. Her perfectly manicured nails dug into your skin. “What were you doing in the library so late?”
“Working on a project,” You answered, walking up to your building door. Natasha noticed how you failed to mention the girl. It meant you had something to hide. In reality you knew how Natasha got sometimes when you hung out with other people. You thought it was hot, you just didn’t want her to bother poor Gen. They were in the same sorority after all. And last time she saw you with another girl from her sorority she kicked her out, you never saw her again.
Natasha nodded her head, following you into the building silently watching your movements. When the two of you stepped into the elevator it wasn’t long until the redhead was pressed against the wall with your head buried in her neck. Her hands gripped your shirt while she pressed herself closer to you, only pushing you away when she felt you sucking a little too harshly.
She turned to the mirror, examining her neck and seeing a deep red fading. “What the fuck, Y/N, you know I don’t like that.”
“Right, you only like being associated with me when it’s convenient to you, must’ve forgotten.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked, turning around. The elevator doors opened and you stepped out, the redhead following closely behind.
You unlocked your door, avoiding the redhead’s question. Natasha, however, was not ready to let it go. “Don’t ignore me.”
You sighed a long sigh, putting your backpack down on the floor as she walked through the door, flicking the door closed behind her. Your jaw clenched as you stood back up while Natasha walked towards you with her arms crossed in front of her chest.
“You act like you own me, but every time I make an attempt to return the gesture you push me away, why is that?”
“Do you not like it?”
“Well if you’re gonna do that, do it like you mean it,” Your face was inches away from hers, an angry fire lit behind her eyes.
“You want me to mean it?” She asked, her hands sliding up to your neck, twirling some of the baby hairs are the bottom of your neck around her finger.
“Yes,” You whispered, inching closer. She leaned in until your lips were mere millimeters apart. Her hand pulled your head back roughly before your felt her lips connecting to your skin. You moaned, your hands automatically finding their place on her hips and pulling her closer.
Her teeth grazed your skin, her grip on your hair tightening before she made you look at her again. “You’re mine,” She pushed off of you and pushed you back until you fell back onto your bed. “Not anybody else’s,” She straddled your hips, grinding down on the strap between your legs. “Other people don’t get to touch what’s mine.”
“I wouldn’t want anybody else to,” You said, bucking your hips up against hers. Her hand wrapped around your throat as she leaned over you, putting more pressure against your airway.
“Mine,” She almost growled, lifting her hips and roughly pushing off of you. You gasped, sitting up onto your elbows while you caught your breath. You watched her shimmy her underwear down her legs, quickly scrambling to take off your own. She moved forward and grabbed onto your hands, completely pulling off your pants down before crawling back onto the bed.
“Do you think she wants you?” She asked, her eyes never leaving your body on the bed as she crawled over you. “Think she wants anything more than this?” Her hand wrapped around the strap, pushing it against you. “This is all you’re worth,” She chuckled, darkly, hovering over you. “And it’s all mine.”
You don’t remember telling her you were ever with someone else, but you were too dazed to care. Her nails dug into your thighs as she lowered herself to the toy between your legs. Your head fell back, a moan escaping your lips when she took the tip of the strap past her lips. Her head bobbed up and down the length of the dildo, her cheeks hollowing out with every movement. It wasn’t long before the redhead was crawling back up your body.
“Natasha,” You tried pleading, hand wandering her body as she positioned herself. “You- She-”
“Shut up,” She said, her hand circling back around your throat. “I don’t wanna hear it.”
She lined up the toy with her entrance, sliding the tip along her clearly dripping folds. Your hands moved to slide over the top of her thighs, fingers reaching up to her hips then sliding back down.
“See what you do to me?” She asked, whining as the strap slid over a sensitive spot. Your lips turned up into a smirk as you gripped her hips and made her sink down onto your strap in one swift movement. “Fuck Y/N!”
You knew you had her.
“Does that feel good?” You asked, bucking up into her again. The moan she released something almost angelic. You wanted to hear it again.
She whined, rolling her hips onto yours as her hand made its way back around your throat. You felt her grip tighten as she licked a long stripe up your neck to your ear. “Do that again.”
Your hands slid around to her ass, squeezing her soft skin and moving her hips up and down your length. She moaned against your neck, her hand scratching down from your neck to the top of your shirt. You hissed when her teeth grazed the skin on your neck, knowing you’d be left with a mark there in the morning.
“Natasha,” You groaned as she pulled away from you, moving your hips in rhythm with hers. She whined, moving her other hand to grip the top of your shirt before she ripped it open.
“You look so hot like this,” She placed both her hands on your chest, resting her weight on top of you as she continued bouncing on the toy. “So willing to be used.”
You squeezed her hips as she leaned back, running her hands up your chest to your face. She tugged some loose strands of your har sticking to your skin back, then leaned back down to connect your lips one more time. Your hands wandered down to her ass again, making her whine against your mouth.
She ran her nails down your arms to your wrists, taking you by surprise and roughly pinning them above your head. “You’re mine to use.”
You watched her with a smug grin, loving the way her breasts bounced in her tight shirt. She moaned, a long drawn out sound as she worked herself closer to the edge. “Mine to fuck,” Her voice became airy, her head falling back as she rolled her hips onto yours. “Mine to do whatever I want with.”
She leaned back, moaning as her movements became sloppier. Her hand gripped your jaw, her grip tight as she rutted against you.
“You close?” You asked, gripping onto her hip with one hand and her arm with the other. “Why don’t you cum for me then? Make a mess for me Nat.”
“Fuck,” Natasha moaned over you, her walls tightening around the toy as she rode out her high, moaning and whimpering with your movements. You flipped the two of you over, pushing the toy into her deeper, enjoying the way her face contorted with pleasure.
“Is that all I am to you?” You asked, face inches away from hers. You pressed your hips further into her, making her whine. “Only something to make you feel good?”
You easily slid the toy in and out of her, the toy hitting all the right spots. She picked up her head to look at you in the eyes, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Yes.”
You rolled your eyes, leaning back with a sigh before pulling out. Natasha whined, leaning up on her elbows with a confused expression on her face. “What?”
“Nothing,” You picked up a shirt from the floor and moved towards the bathroom. “I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, Nat.”
“Since when did that ever make a fucking difference?” She asked, moving off the bed and in front of you. She slid her shirt over her head and let her skirt drop to the floor. Your gaze lowered to her naked body, her smirk growing as you caught your lip between your teeth. “You don’t wanna fuck me anymore?”
She pressed you back against the doorframe, dipping her head into your neck and leaving a trail of small hickeys down your neck. Her hands slid down your arms and placed your hands on her hips, leaning closer to you. You could feel her slow breaths on your face, and you didn’t realize you moved forward until she was pressed against the opposite side of the door frame.
Natasha’s smirk grew, her white teeth now peeking out from between her lips. “You don’t wanna press me up against the wall and fuck me until I can’t even think anymore?”
“I never said that,” You growled before connecting your lips again, the redhead’s hands entangling in your hair and pulling you flush against her. Your hands reached down and pulled her up, her legs wrapping around your waist. Natasha moaned, her lips trailing down your neck as you slid the toy back into her.
She moaned against your skin with ever buck of your hips, her whole body jolting with your movements. By this point in the night you didn’t even have to look in the mirror to know Natasha had littered your skin with deep bruises. She didn’t want Gen to have a single doubt in her mind, you were Natasha’s, not anybody else’s.
Natasha whined into you, hands pulling your head back to look at her. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” You watched her bounce another few times, waiting for her to become more desperate. You tilted your head, smirking when she tightened her grip on your hair and whined. “Please.”
“I’m all yours,” You said, watching her face scrunch up as her orgasm started washing over her. Natasha’s hands gripped onto your shoulders as she came for a second time, her head leaning back onto the doorframe. Your lips kissed down her neck, quickly finding her sweet spot at the corner of her jaw.
Her legs unwrapped from around your waist, your grip on her hips faltering as you slowly eased her down. Natasha pushed you away before you could leave anything permanent. She slid her hands down your chest, admiring the small bruises she left in her wake, tracing the scratches she etched onto your skin.
Natasha loved when you were like this, when your skin was covered with her. There was no way anyone would look at you snd not think you had someone you belonged to. She was pleased with her work, she doesn’t have to worry about Gen.
—
Natasha wasn’t planning on following you into the library the next day, she really wasn’t. But you sent her a snapchat of you after you showered and she noticed some of her marks had faded faster that she would’ve hoped. She was only doing this to make sure Gen didn’t cross a line.
She watched you greet her, the same friendliness you had offered yesterday. Everything was fine until Gen stupidly decided to ask about the marks on your neck.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” You said, looking over your shoulder. Natasha wondered if you knew she was there. You didn’t, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of her eyes on you. Gen, however, seemed like she had a death wish by how insistent she was on knowing where all the hickeys came from.
“I just don’t get how you have so many, Jesus, Y/N,” Her fingers traced the ones on the side of your neck and you subtly scooted away from her.
“They’re hickeys, Gen, don’t be a fucking moron,” Natasha muttered under her breath, roughly turning the page of the textbook she was pretending to read. The redhead noticed the way you didn’t welcome Gen’s touch, the way you almost flinched away from it. Gen was about to learn an unpleasant lesson.
Whoever Natasha wants, Natasha gets. There’s no standing in her way.
—
You ended up leaving the library much later than you’d planned. Gen had to leave early, telling you she was being called into an emergency sorority meeting. You knew the drill. You knew it was her gaze you were feeling through the day.
Poor Gen. She was nice, and she loved Tri Delta, it’s a shame Natasha would have to kick her out.
You were packing up your things when your phone buzzed with a text from Natasha. You were wondering when she was gonna text.
Come over?
You answered you’d be there soon. Natasha might be a little extreme, but just enough to keep you hooked. A sick and twisted part of you loved how she went out of her way to make sure she had you.
Because that’s the way it would always be. She had you, and would have you for as long as she wanted, but you’d never have her. Strangely, that was enough for you.
You made your way across campus to Natasha’s sorority, the usually busy campus eerily quiet at this time of the night. When you walked up to the large house, a cold chill ran down your spine, the usually buzzing mansion suspiciously quiet even for this late at night.
The strong smell of bleach was the first thing that welcomed you as you stepped through the door. You watched as two of Natasha’s sorority sisters walked down the stairs and into the kitchen with bloodied rags and a bucket.
“What the fuck?” You somehow walked further into the house, ignoring every instinct telling you to get the fuck out of there. You spotted a pledge walking past you, her face pale as she carried a bucket of what seemed like bloodied water.
You continued your way to the staircase, noticing the small droplets of red on the steps. Your stomach turned, wondering what in the hell could’ve happened and why there weren’t any authorities at the house.
“Maria,” You spotted the brunette wiping down the wall, small streaks of red following the rag in her hand. “What the hell happened?”
“You know how she is,” She shrugged and turned back to the wall. “Just Nat being Nat.”
Your head turned to the other end of the hallway where Natasha’s bedroom was. Your chest tightened at the heavy trail of blood leading into the room.
“It’s a shame,” You snapped back to Maria who continued to wipe the wall. “I liked Gen.”
You swallowed hard as you took careful steps towards her bedroom, trying not to step on any of the blood. Your hands shook the closer you got to the door, having to wipe them on your pants before you entered the bedroom.
“Nat?” The redhead was straddling a body on her bed, her clothes completely drenched in blood with smudged handprints covering her chest and neck. She turned her head to look at you, roughly pulling the knife out of the unfortunate girl under her. Your eyes widened in horror when you noticed it was Gen.
“Y/N,” Her voice was sweet, and somehow inviting. “You made it.”
“What did you do?” You walked towards Gen, but Natasha stopped you, the bloody knife pressing up against your stomach as she looked up at you. “Nat-”
“She needed to learn her lesson,” Her cold stare bore into you, invited you in, drowned you in her affection. The blade of the knife slid over your clothes before you felt the tip pressing against you. “Nobody comes between me and what I want.”
“Natasha she never did, she-”
“Shh,” The tip of the knife pressed further into you, Natasha’s free hand gripping your jaw and making you look at down at her. “She needed, to learn, her lesson.”
Your chest heaved up and down, your stomach twisting when you noticed her blood was smeared on your face now. You wanted to throw up. Natasha’s lips tugged upwards, bringing your face down closer to hers.
“It’s okay, baby,” She said, her breath brushing over your face. “There’s nothing between us now, it’s just us.” Her lips touched yours and for a moment you forgot what she had just done. “It’s just you and me now.”
It’s just you and her.
Your eyes were locked onto hers. How could someone so perfect do something like this. Gen groaned from her bed, your eyes trailing towards her. Natasha’s grip on your jaw tightened, the knuckles grabbing onto the knife turning white with rage.
“Don’t look at her,” Her voice was almost unrecognizable. “You’re mine.”
She pushed you back before moving towards Gen again. In one swift move, before you could stop her, Natasha sank the knife into the other girl’s chest. Blood spattered on your cheek, Gen’s body went limp.
Natasha turned back to you, her hands shaking and tears in her eyes as if she had just caught up to her actions.
“All I wanted was you,” Her voice cracked. “I wanted you to myself.”
You didn’t know what you were doing, but you stepped forward and took her into your arms, her small frame shaking with her sobs. “You have me.”
“I did this for you,” She said as you both fell to your knees, Natasha almost limp in your embrace, a small smirk tugging on her lips as she nuzzled into you. “Look what you made me do.”
warnings: dark fic, mentions of blood, murder, toxic behavior, stalking, power bottom!nat, strap on use, slapping, scratching, possessiveness, smut 18+
a/n: another repost, this is required reading (she's making a comeback ladies (gn))
🚩 warnings are clearly stated please do not report/flag :) 🚩
words: 4k | feedback is always welcome | masterlist
divider source | gif source
Natasha Romanoff wouldn’t call herself a possessive person. She was never one to hold on to things for a long time, or really care about them sticking around.
Until you came around.
From the second you saw Natasha you were hooked. Her smug grin and carefree snarky attitude immediately lured you in. You’d never wanted anyone else so bad in your life, and the redhead never felt so wanted. But the feeling of wanting and being wanted was not one Natasha was familiar with. The fight between wanting to keep you to herself and her detached personality an everyday battle.
She managed it, upheld the same rules she kept with every one else with you, even though everything in her wanted to break them. Don’t spend the night, don’t let them leave a mark, don’t chase, and most important of all leave them wanting more. She was almost as obsessed with how many people chased after her than with herself. Then you came along and threatened to change that.
She didn’t understand what it was about you. Maybe it was the way you would look for her whenever you had class together, or how if you bumped into her on campus you’d always offer to go for coffee. And that one time Natasha was cold and you offered her your jacket, that was a day she would never forget.
It was early spring and the day looked deceptively warm outside Natasha’s window. The sheer tights, miniskirt, and long sleeve in her closet almost screaming at her to be worn. It wasn’t until she was halfway across campus that she realized those were not enough layers. As if that wasn’t enough of a start to her day, some freshman on a bike almost bumped right into her, the close call sending her into the bushes and making her tights snag on the small twigs.
“Shit,” She muttered under her breath.
“Watch where you’re going, kid!” She heard your voice before she felt your hand on her lower back, her cheeks involuntarily reddening. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” She reached down to where her tights were snagged, but couldn’t quite reach.
“I got it-”
“No you have to be careful, it will rip.”
“Yeah, Natasha, I got it, now stop moving,” You hand grabbed onto her thigh, the gesture somehow more intimate that any other moment you’d spent together between hickeys and clothes falling to the floor. “There you go, good as new.”
She noticed the way you stopped yourself from kissing where the twig had been. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Natasha bit her lip as she looked up at you fighting the urge to connect your lips. She had class to attend. You were just a tardy waiting to happen. “Wanna grab coffee?”
“I-” A wind blew past the two of you, making Natasha’s words falter as goosebumps rose to her skin. “I have class.”
“Do you want my jacket?” Your question was so unexpected she didn’t even have the chance to protest before you were draping the material over her shoulders. “I’ll see you later, Nat.”
And with a kiss on the cheek you were gone and Natasha Romanoff has never been the same. Ever since she revelled in the attention you gave her, got drunk on your compliments and breathed your admiration every time you were around. She couldn’t let something so sweet get away from her.
You only wished she’d tell you. Ever time it seemed like you were one step closer to her she would take twenty steps away. You weren’t exactly fond of it but Natasha was worth playing games for. You’d be her pawn for as long as she wanted.
She couldn’t help the way her head picked up from the book she was reading in a far away corner of the library when she heard your laugh. Natasha didn’t like the way she couldn’t control the smile threatening her lips, but it quickly faded when her eyes zeroed in on where this girl - is that fucking Gen? - you were with was touching you. It was just a friendly touch on your arm but it still made the redhead sick to her stomach.
You didn’t notice her, too focused on trying to finish the project you were working on with your assigned partner Gen. The project was due the following week and the two of you had procrastinated long enough. Natasha watched you the whole time. She changed where she was sitting to behind the two of you after she had finished her work, not wanting to risk any chances of you looking up and seeing her.
It wasn’t until the sun had set and the library was closing that you and your partner got up to leave. Natasha was already upset, watching you like a hawk. It wasn’t until you opened your mouth that she got mad.
“Do you wanna grab coffee?” She heard your voice in the distance, making her stop in her tracks. She held her arms close to her body trying to keep herself from pacing.
“It’s late, I probably shouldn’t,” She said, starting to walk away from the library. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, for sure,” Another touch to your arm and Natasha was on her way towards you, almost fuming. Nobody gets to touch what’s hers.
“Y/N, hey,” Her voice had no traces of anger, her hands slid up your arm to your shoulder as you turned to her, her fingers stroking the back of your neck. You smiled down at her, your hand instinctively reaching down to her waist and pulling her closer.
“Hi Nat,” You answered. She almost purred with your hands on her. “What are you still doing on this part of campus so late?”
“I was just working late,” She said, pointing her head towards the library you were just in. “Do you wanna grab coffee?”
“I’d love to,” You said, then pulled her closer, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “I have really good coffee at my place.”
“That’s funny, I was just gonna suggest we go there anyway,” She laughed, an airy gasp leaving her lips when yours touched just below her earlobe. “Do you invite all the girls you meet to your place?”
“Only the pretty ones,” You joked, pulling away from her and taking her hand. She slyly let go of it, walking alongside you in the direction to your apartment building. You lived a short walk away from campus, the whole time the two of you walked, Natasha though about all the other places Gen might have touched. “What are you staring at?”
“Nothing,” She said, her arms snaking around yours. Her perfectly manicured nails dug into your skin. “What were you doing in the library so late?”
“Working on a project,” You answered, walking up to your building door. Natasha noticed how you failed to mention the girl. It meant you had something to hide. In reality you knew how Natasha got sometimes when you hung out with other people. You thought it was hot, you just didn’t want her to bother poor Gen. They were in the same sorority after all. And last time she saw you with another girl from her sorority she kicked her out, you never saw her again.
Natasha nodded her head, following you into the building silently watching your movements. When the two of you stepped into the elevator it wasn’t long until the redhead was pressed against the wall with your head buried in her neck. Her hands gripped your shirt while she pressed herself closer to you, only pushing you away when she felt you sucking a little too harshly.
She turned to the mirror, examining her neck and seeing a deep red fading. “What the fuck, Y/N, you know I don’t like that.”
“Right, you only like being associated with me when it’s convenient to you, must’ve forgotten.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked, turning around. The elevator doors opened and you stepped out, the redhead following closely behind.
You unlocked your door, avoiding the redhead’s question. Natasha, however, was not ready to let it go. “Don’t ignore me.”
You sighed a long sigh, putting your backpack down on the floor as she walked through the door, flicking the door closed behind her. Your jaw clenched as you stood back up while Natasha walked towards you with her arms crossed in front of her chest.
“You act like you own me, but every time I make an attempt to return the gesture you push me away, why is that?”
“Do you not like it?”
“Well if you’re gonna do that, do it like you mean it,” Your face was inches away from hers, an angry fire lit behind her eyes.
“You want me to mean it?” She asked, her hands sliding up to your neck, twirling some of the baby hairs are the bottom of your neck around her finger.
“Yes,” You whispered, inching closer. She leaned in until your lips were mere millimeters apart. Her hand pulled your head back roughly before your felt her lips connecting to your skin. You moaned, your hands automatically finding their place on her hips and pulling her closer.
Her teeth grazed your skin, her grip on your hair tightening before she made you look at her again. “You’re mine,” She pushed off of you and pushed you back until you fell back onto your bed. “Not anybody else’s,” She straddled your hips, grinding down on the strap between your legs. “Other people don’t get to touch what’s mine.”
“I wouldn’t want anybody else to,” You said, bucking your hips up against hers. Her hand wrapped around your throat as she leaned over you, putting more pressure against your airway.
“Mine,” She almost growled, lifting her hips and roughly pushing off of you. You gasped, sitting up onto your elbows while you caught your breath. You watched her shimmy her underwear down her legs, quickly scrambling to take off your own. She moved forward and grabbed onto your hands, completely pulling off your pants down before crawling back onto the bed.
“Do you think she wants you?” She asked, her eyes never leaving your body on the bed as she crawled over you. “Think she wants anything more than this?” Her hand wrapped around the strap, pushing it against you. “This is all you’re worth,” She chuckled, darkly, hovering over you. “And it’s all mine.”
You don’t remember telling her you were ever with someone else, but you were too dazed to care. Her nails dug into your thighs as she lowered herself to the toy between your legs. Your head fell back, a moan escaping your lips when she took the tip of the strap past her lips. Her head bobbed up and down the length of the dildo, her cheeks hollowing out with every movement. It wasn’t long before the redhead was crawling back up your body.
“Natasha,” You tried pleading, hand wandering her body as she positioned herself. “You- She-”
“Shut up,” She said, her hand circling back around your throat. “I don’t wanna hear it.”
She lined up the toy with her entrance, sliding the tip along her clearly dripping folds. Your hands moved to slide over the top of her thighs, fingers reaching up to her hips then sliding back down.
“See what you do to me?” She asked, whining as the strap slid over a sensitive spot. Your lips turned up into a smirk as you gripped her hips and made her sink down onto your strap in one swift movement. “Fuck Y/N!”
You knew you had her.
“Does that feel good?” You asked, bucking up into her again. The moan she released something almost angelic. You wanted to hear it again.
She whined, rolling her hips onto yours as her hand made its way back around your throat. You felt her grip tighten as she licked a long stripe up your neck to your ear. “Do that again.”
Your hands slid around to her ass, squeezing her soft skin and moving her hips up and down your length. She moaned against your neck, her hand scratching down from your neck to the top of your shirt. You hissed when her teeth grazed the skin on your neck, knowing you’d be left with a mark there in the morning.
“Natasha,” You groaned as she pulled away from you, moving your hips in rhythm with hers. She whined, moving her other hand to grip the top of your shirt before she ripped it open.
“You look so hot like this,” She placed both her hands on your chest, resting her weight on top of you as she continued bouncing on the toy. “So willing to be used.”
You squeezed her hips as she leaned back, running her hands up your chest to your face. She tugged some loose strands of your har sticking to your skin back, then leaned back down to connect your lips one more time. Your hands wandered down to her ass again, making her whine against your mouth.
She ran her nails down your arms to your wrists, taking you by surprise and roughly pinning them above your head. “You’re mine to use.”
You watched her with a smug grin, loving the way her breasts bounced in her tight shirt. She moaned, a long drawn out sound as she worked herself closer to the edge. “Mine to fuck,” Her voice became airy, her head falling back as she rolled her hips onto yours. “Mine to do whatever I want with.”
She leaned back, moaning as her movements became sloppier. Her hand gripped your jaw, her grip tight as she rutted against you.
“You close?” You asked, gripping onto her hip with one hand and her arm with the other. “Why don’t you cum for me then? Make a mess for me Nat.”
“Fuck,” Natasha moaned over you, her walls tightening around the toy as she rode out her high, moaning and whimpering with your movements. You flipped the two of you over, pushing the toy into her deeper, enjoying the way her face contorted with pleasure.
“Is that all I am to you?” You asked, face inches away from hers. You pressed your hips further into her, making her whine. “Only something to make you feel good?”
You easily slid the toy in and out of her, the toy hitting all the right spots. She picked up her head to look at you in the eyes, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Yes.”
You rolled your eyes, leaning back with a sigh before pulling out. Natasha whined, leaning up on her elbows with a confused expression on her face. “What?”
“Nothing,” You picked up a shirt from the floor and moved towards the bathroom. “I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, Nat.”
“Since when did that ever make a fucking difference?” She asked, moving off the bed and in front of you. She slid her shirt over her head and let her skirt drop to the floor. Your gaze lowered to her naked body, her smirk growing as you caught your lip between your teeth. “You don’t wanna fuck me anymore?”
She pressed you back against the doorframe, dipping her head into your neck and leaving a trail of small hickeys down your neck. Her hands slid down your arms and placed your hands on her hips, leaning closer to you. You could feel her slow breaths on your face, and you didn’t realize you moved forward until she was pressed against the opposite side of the door frame.
Natasha’s smirk grew, her white teeth now peeking out from between her lips. “You don’t wanna press me up against the wall and fuck me until I can’t even think anymore?”
“I never said that,” You growled before connecting your lips again, the redhead’s hands entangling in your hair and pulling you flush against her. Your hands reached down and pulled her up, her legs wrapping around your waist. Natasha moaned, her lips trailing down your neck as you slid the toy back into her.
She moaned against your skin with ever buck of your hips, her whole body jolting with your movements. By this point in the night you didn’t even have to look in the mirror to know Natasha had littered your skin with deep bruises. She didn’t want Gen to have a single doubt in her mind, you were Natasha’s, not anybody else’s.
Natasha whined into you, hands pulling your head back to look at her. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” You watched her bounce another few times, waiting for her to become more desperate. You tilted your head, smirking when she tightened her grip on your hair and whined. “Please.”
“I’m all yours,” You said, watching her face scrunch up as her orgasm started washing over her. Natasha’s hands gripped onto your shoulders as she came for a second time, her head leaning back onto the doorframe. Your lips kissed down her neck, quickly finding her sweet spot at the corner of her jaw.
Her legs unwrapped from around your waist, your grip on her hips faltering as you slowly eased her down. Natasha pushed you away before you could leave anything permanent. She slid her hands down your chest, admiring the small bruises she left in her wake, tracing the scratches she etched onto your skin.
Natasha loved when you were like this, when your skin was covered with her. There was no way anyone would look at you snd not think you had someone you belonged to. She was pleased with her work, she doesn’t have to worry about Gen.
—
Natasha wasn’t planning on following you into the library the next day, she really wasn’t. But you sent her a snapchat of you after you showered and she noticed some of her marks had faded faster that she would’ve hoped. She was only doing this to make sure Gen didn’t cross a line.
She watched you greet her, the same friendliness you had offered yesterday. Everything was fine until Gen stupidly decided to ask about the marks on your neck.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” You said, looking over your shoulder. Natasha wondered if you knew she was there. You didn’t, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of her eyes on you. Gen, however, seemed like she had a death wish by how insistent she was on knowing where all the hickeys came from.
“I just don’t get how you have so many, Jesus, Y/N,” Her fingers traced the ones on the side of your neck and you subtly scooted away from her.
“They’re hickeys, Gen, don’t be a fucking moron,” Natasha muttered under her breath, roughly turning the page of the textbook she was pretending to read. The redhead noticed the way you didn’t welcome Gen’s touch, the way you almost flinched away from it. Gen was about to learn an unpleasant lesson.
Whoever Natasha wants, Natasha gets. There’s no standing in her way.
—
You ended up leaving the library much later than you’d planned. Gen had to leave early, telling you she was being called into an emergency sorority meeting. You knew the drill. You knew it was her gaze you were feeling through the day.
Poor Gen. She was nice, and she loved Tri Delta, it’s a shame Natasha would have to kick her out.
You were packing up your things when your phone buzzed with a text from Natasha. You were wondering when she was gonna text.
Come over?
You answered you’d be there soon. Natasha might be a little extreme, but just enough to keep you hooked. A sick and twisted part of you loved how she went out of her way to make sure she had you.
Because that’s the way it would always be. She had you, and would have you for as long as she wanted, but you’d never have her. Strangely, that was enough for you.
You made your way across campus to Natasha’s sorority, the usually busy campus eerily quiet at this time of the night. When you walked up to the large house, a cold chill ran down your spine, the usually buzzing mansion suspiciously quiet even for this late at night.
The strong smell of bleach was the first thing that welcomed you as you stepped through the door. You watched as two of Natasha’s sorority sisters walked down the stairs and into the kitchen with bloodied rags and a bucket.
“What the fuck?” You somehow walked further into the house, ignoring every instinct telling you to get the fuck out of there. You spotted a pledge walking past you, her face pale as she carried a bucket of what seemed like bloodied water.
You continued your way to the staircase, noticing the small droplets of red on the steps. Your stomach turned, wondering what in the hell could’ve happened and why there weren’t any authorities at the house.
“Maria,” You spotted the brunette wiping down the wall, small streaks of red following the rag in her hand. “What the hell happened?”
“You know how she is,” She shrugged and turned back to the wall. “Just Nat being Nat.”
Your head turned to the other end of the hallway where Natasha’s bedroom was. Your chest tightened at the heavy trail of blood leading into the room.
“It’s a shame,” You snapped back to Maria who continued to wipe the wall. “I liked Gen.”
You swallowed hard as you took careful steps towards her bedroom, trying not to step on any of the blood. Your hands shook the closer you got to the door, having to wipe them on your pants before you entered the bedroom.
“Nat?” The redhead was straddling a body on her bed, her clothes completely drenched in blood with smudged handprints covering her chest and neck. She turned her head to look at you, roughly pulling the knife out of the unfortunate girl under her. Your eyes widened in horror when you noticed it was Gen.
“Y/N,” Her voice was sweet, and somehow inviting. “You made it.”
“What did you do?” You walked towards Gen, but Natasha stopped you, the bloody knife pressing up against your stomach as she looked up at you. “Nat-”
“She needed to learn her lesson,” Her cold stare bore into you, invited you in, drowned you in her affection. The blade of the knife slid over your clothes before you felt the tip pressing against you. “Nobody comes between me and what I want.”
“Natasha she never did, she-”
“Shh,” The tip of the knife pressed further into you, Natasha’s free hand gripping your jaw and making you look at down at her. “She needed, to learn, her lesson.”
Your chest heaved up and down, your stomach twisting when you noticed her blood was smeared on your face now. You wanted to throw up. Natasha’s lips tugged upwards, bringing your face down closer to hers.
“It’s okay, baby,” She said, her breath brushing over your face. “There’s nothing between us now, it’s just us.” Her lips touched yours and for a moment you forgot what she had just done. “It’s just you and me now.”
It’s just you and her.
Your eyes were locked onto hers. How could someone so perfect do something like this. Gen groaned from her bed, your eyes trailing towards her. Natasha’s grip on your jaw tightened, the knuckles grabbing onto the knife turning white with rage.
“Don’t look at her,” Her voice was almost unrecognizable. “You’re mine.”
She pushed you back before moving towards Gen again. In one swift move, before you could stop her, Natasha sank the knife into the other girl’s chest. Blood spattered on your cheek, Gen’s body went limp.
Natasha turned back to you, her hands shaking and tears in her eyes as if she had just caught up to her actions.
“All I wanted was you,” Her voice cracked. “I wanted you to myself.”
You didn’t know what you were doing, but you stepped forward and took her into your arms, her small frame shaking with her sobs. “You have me.”
“I did this for you,” She said as you both fell to your knees, Natasha almost limp in your embrace, a small smirk tugging on her lips as she nuzzled into you. “Look what you made me do.”
october 19th — monsterfucking, tentacle (?) sex, stomach bulge
DAY TWELVE || kinktober masterlist || 2024.
pairing- natasha romanoff x venom!reader
cw- 18+!!; dom!top!venom!reader, sub!bottom!natasha. get ready for these tags, hornballs. venom!cock, oral (n & v rcv), blowjob, (r rcv), handjobS (v rcv), overstimulation, daddy kink, positionsss (standing mirror sex, against the wall sex, bent over the bed sex, doggay sex, yeehaw sex, sitting on face (venom's tongue...?) aaand that's it!), degradation if you squint, choking, double penetration, triple penetration?, tentacles??? ugh i'm so filthy idek if this is all?? oh anal. js lil penetration, couldn't help myself :p
wc- 12.433k of pure porn with no plot.
a/n- rushed the ending and the dp part, skipped the ughh creampie (kill me, i have the image in my mind. oh how i love my imagination <3), and preferred the way i wrote it in my mind but hey! words don't come as fast as natasha does. i'll leave it at this, might rework this in the future :)
synopsis- natasha comes home from a mission with a need to disconnect from herself. what better way than to fuck her dumb untill she passes out? (she asked for it, really.)
taglist?- @lost-mortemanghel ♥︎, @idkwhatever580, @elliecoochieeater, @left-and-right-up-and-down, @deadlesbianwitches, @lizziewitchy ❀ - comment or dm to be added :)
The front door creaked open, and Natasha stumbled in, her movements weary and unsteady. She looked like she had been through hell—tresses dishevelled, suit stained and rumpled, eyes bloodshot from days without sleep. She barely had the strength to close the door behind her before leaning against it, as though it were the only thing holding her up. Yet despite her exhaustion, her gaze was filled with a raw, burning need as it landed on you.
"Hey," she called, her voice a sultry whisper that echoed off the walls, almost pleading. The moment she spotted you, a wave of relief washed over her. She kicked off her boots, letting them fall carelessly to the floor as she crossed the room, her movements both frantic and graceful.
"Natalia," you greeted softly, watching her as she approached, drawn to you like a moth to flame. There was a hunger in her gaze, a desperation that tugged at your heart. She reached out, fingers grazing your arm, igniting a spark that sent warmth cascading through your body.
Venom stirred beneath your skin, eager to come out and play. You took her face in your hands, your touch gentle in contrast to the storm raging behind Natasha’s eyes.
"Long day?" you murmured, your thumb brushing over her flushed cheek. There was a tenderness in your voice, though it couldn’t quite hide the dark edge of anticipation laced within.
Natasha's body shivered at the contact, and her breath hitched as she tilted her head to rest against your palm. "Please," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of exhaustion and desperate longing. "I need you." Her grip tightened on your arms, as though afraid you might disappear. "Make me forget. Please, make me feel… something else," her voice now barely above a whisper, yet filled with urgency.
A deep rumble stirred within you, resonating like a growl in your chest as Venom's voice echoed in your mind, darker and hungrier than your own. Look at her... already pleading, he purred, a teasing edge coating every word. Let's see just how much more we can make her beg.
"Are you sure? You’re asking for something intense, ‘Tasha." you asked softly, even as Venom’s black tendrils began to curl out from beneath your skin, slipping across your shoulders and down your arms. They moved with a slow, deliberate grace, inching toward Natasha as though savouring the anticipation.
Natasha nodded, her pupils dilated with lust as she bit down on her lower lip. “Yes… I’m sure,” she breathed, the words almost coming out as a whimper. “I need this. I need you both.”
You shared a thought with Venom, your combined anticipation swelling into a singular, overwhelming force. The tendrils shot out, binding her wrists above her head and pulling her forward toward the bed, as if she were a marionette caught in your strings. Her combat suit was stripped away in one fluid motion, the fabric falling to the floor, leaving her naked and vulnerable. She gasped as the cool air licked at her skin, goosebumps forming in the wake of each tendril that caressed her.
You could feel Venom's delight as you dragged your fingers along the curve of her waist, savouring the way her muscles tensed beneath your touch. “Look at you,” you murmured, voice filled with a mix of adoration and amusement. “Already so desperate… so wet, and we’ve barely done anything.”
Her response was a trembling moan, her hips rolling forward as she sought contact, her need laid bare. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess—everything from the stress of her mission to the ache of exhaustion melted away, leaving only this singular, burning need. The feeling of Venom’s tendrils brushing against her inner thighs, her arms, her chest, teasing the sensitive skin, had her breath stuttering, her body trembling under the weight of the touches.
She bucked her hips, seeking more, but the touch remained light and taunting, making her whimper in frustration. “Please,” she gasped out, her voice cracked and rough. “I need more—”
You clicked your tongue, crouching beside her to brush a stray lock of hair from her flushed face. “Oh, sweet thing… you don’t get to call the shots at all tonight.” There was a wicked smile on your lips, a glint of mischief in your eyes. “You’re just a clueless little baby who needs to be taught what she really wants.”
Natasha’s breath hitched, and her gaze flickered with a mixture of gratitude and helpless desire. She pulled against the tendrils, her muscles straining as if trying to reclaim her composure, but Venom tightened his grip, keeping her bound and exposed. Each fluttering touch that danced over her folds and circled her clit left her thighs quivering and her stomach clenching with anticipation.
You took your time, letting Venom’s tendrils brush over Natasha’s skin with the kind of deliberate cruelty that made her squirm. Each one explored her body with teasing flicks and strokes, gliding across the curve of her breasts, tracing the dip of her navel, and swirling in maddening circles over her thighs. You could feel everything through Venom, the texture of her skin under the tendrils, the heat radiating from her core, and the way her body shivered with each fleeting touch. It was intoxicating—her arousal seemed to flood through you, feeding the connection between you, Venom, and her, until you could barely tell where your desire ended and hers began.
“Such a mess,” you breathed, lowering yourself between her legs. The tendrils spread her thighs wider, keeping her open, her slick folds glistening with need. You traced a line up the inside of her thigh with the tip of your tongue, tasting the sweat on her skin and feeling the way her muscles tensed, as if she were trying to pull you closer. Venom’s tendrils held her firmly, though, ensuring she couldn’t seek out more than you were willing to give. You looked up at her as you dragged your tongue through her folds, savouring the sharp cry that escaped her lips. The taste of her was electric, a jolt that coursed through you and stirred the tendrils to tighten possessively around her wrists.
Natasha’s hips jerked upward, desperate for more friction, but you pulled back, letting your breath ghost over her wetness instead. "Patience," you chided, your voice low and dripping with wicked amusement. "You said you needed to be ruined, baby... so we're going to take our time." You darted your tongue out, just barely grazing her clit, and watched as her whole body arched, the sound of her pleading whimper music to your ears. Her thighs trembled in their restraints, her skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat as you teased her with the barest flicks of your tongue.
You could feel her growing frustration like a mounting storm, a swirling mass of heat and desperation that radiated from where Venom's tendrils danced lightly over her folds. Each touch was feather-light, barely grazing her clit before pulling away, leaving her gasping for more. Her need was a palpable force, wrapping around you, pulling you in, but still, you resisted, drawing out her torment. “You’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” you murmured against her entrance, the vibration of your words making her gasp. “So needy… so wet, just for us.”
Her moans filled the room, a broken symphony of desperate pleas. "Please," she choked out, her voice thick with want. "I can't... I need more—please!" Her eyes were wide and glassy, her cheeks streaked with tears she hadn’t even realised she was shedding. She was lost in the overwhelming sensations, reduced to nothing but the raw, primal need to be filled, to be claimed completely.
You gave in—just a little—pressing your tongue flat against her clit and swirling in slow, lazy circles, applying enough pressure to have her hips bucking helplessly. You could feel her pulse racing through Venom’s tendrils, feel the way her body clenched and fluttered with every stroke, every tease. The pleasure rolled off her in waves, feeding back into you and Venom, a shared ecstasy that left you heady and aching to devour her, to ruin her completely.
For nearly an hour, you kept her there, on the precipice, bringing her to the edge only to pull her back. Your tongue and Venom’s tendrils worked in tandem, tormenting her sensitive clit while teasing her entrance, never quite pushing inside. She writhed and sobbed, her voice hoarse from pleading, her body trembling uncontrollably as she begged for release. “Please… fuck… please just make me cum… I’ll do anything…” Her voice broke into a desperate cry as you sucked her clit between your lips, letting your teeth graze her just enough to send a shiver up her spine.
You pulled back again, and Natasha let out a scream of pure frustration, her entire body trembling with need. Venom's possessive glee coursed through you as his tendrils tightened around her wrists and thighs, pinning her in place. You stood slowly, leaning in close to whisper, "You want to be fucked dumb, don't you? To forget everything and let us take care of you?"
“Please,” she begged, her voice barely more than a breath. “Please, I can’t take it anymore.”
You tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet your gaze, and leaned in close enough that your breath ghosted over her lips. “You’re not ready yet,” you whispered, the edge in your voice unmistakable. “But maybe... maybe V will consider your request.”
Natasha's chest rose and fell rapidly, her whole body trembling as she whispered, "V... please. If—If Daddy won’t do it, then you—" Her voice broke off into a desperate whimper. “Take over. Please, fuck me stupid.”
Venom's growl reverberated through the room, vibrating through your body as he fought for control over your mind. The tendrils coiled tighter around Natasha, spreading her open as he formed an average length, pulsing cock over your core, slick and ready. You could feel every twitch, every throb of the appendage as if it was part of you, the sensation sending a shudder down your spine.
Prepare her, Venom’s voice echoed in your mind, thick with command. Make her earn it.
You watched as Natasha’s eyes fluttered shut in surrender, a soft moan escaping her lips as the tip of the tip of your cock pressed against her entrance. Slowly, you pushed forward, the slick tendril slipping inside with a deep, deliberate stretch that made her toes curl. You could feel her walls squeezing around the cock, welcoming the intrusion even as they stretched slightly to accommodate it. But Venom wasn’t satisfied. With each gentle thrust, you felt the cock grow thicker, the girth and length expanding incrementally.
Natasha gasped, the shifts in size sending a shock of pleasure through her body. Her thoughts dissolved into raw sensation, the ache of being filled blending with the searing heat that spread through her core. Each time you slid deeper, the cock seemed to throb thicker, pushing against her walls with an insistent pressure that felt impossibly deep. It wasn’t long before Natasha’s desperate, high-pitched cries filled the room, echoing with each movement. Her hips rocked forward, seeking more, even as her body struggled to adjust to the cock that seemed to keep growing with each thrust.
Venom’s frustration seeped into you—she was taking him too easily, her body adapting too quickly. You could feel the swell of his irritation as he thickened the tendril again, adding more length with each stroke until the size was undeniable. The cock throbbed inside her, stretching her walls to their limit, and you watched with a twisted sense of amusement as Natasha’s gasps turned into frantic, choked cries.
“Do you feel it, Natasha?” you murmured, your voice thick with mock sympathy. “Feel how much bigger we’re getting inside you?”
She whimpered in response, her body quivering as she tried to take more, her legs shaking with the effort. But the cock continued to expand, her walls instinctively pushing until only half of it could fit inside her. You could see it in the way her stomach tightened, the way her thighs trembled uncontrollably—she was overwhelmed, struggling to take even that much.
With a low chuckle, you traced a finger along her cheek. “Oh, poor baby,” you cooed, your tone laced with condescension. “You really thought you could handle all of us, didn’t you?”
And then, just as abruptly, you pulled back, making her gasp as your now thick cock slid out of her with a wet, obscene sound, leaving her painfully empty. Natasha’s thighs quivered, a desperate whimper escaping her lips at the loss. Venom pulsed against your core, his frustration coiling inside you as he prepared to push even deeper next time, determined to stretch her to the very brink of what she could take—and perhaps, just a little more.
You smirked, letting your amusement show as you felt Venom's possessive hunger vibrating through you. "She’ll earn it," you whispered, smiling lustfully at Natasha, making sure both of them knew who was in control.
He rumbled with approval, his voice a low growl in your mind. Oh, she will… he agreed, his tone thick with anticipation. She’ll show us how much she craves this, how desperate she is to please us. You could feel the shared longing between you building, a heady mix of power and desire, as you met Natasha's hazy gaze.
With a silent command, Venom’s tendrils moved tightened around her wrists and waist, twisting into a firm, unyielding grip that guided her down onto her knees. Her breath hitched as she felt the cool floor beneath her, the sensation grounding her just enough to realise the depths of her own need. There was no escaping the sheer desperation that burned in her, an all-consuming ache that only you could satisfy.
Venom’s satisfaction hummed in the back of your mind, feeding off the sight of her flushed cheeks and trembling lips as you brought the thick, gooey cock to her mouth. "Let's try something else," you murmured, your voice laced with teasing command as you traced the black, glistening tip over her bottom lip. "You're going to help us get ready, aren’t you?"
Natasha’s gaze flickered up to meet yours, pupils blown wide with a mixture of submission and pure need. She parted her lips obediently, the tip sliding over her tongue as she tried to take him in. But the cock was thick, stretching her jaw as her lips wrapped around it, struggling to fit the girth in her mouth. She couldn’t even take half before it brushed the back of her throat, making her gag slightly.
“That’s right, take your time,” you said, your voice soft and teasing as your fingers tangled in her hair, guiding her movements. “You’re not used to this, are you? You can’t even fit everything in your mouth…”
Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, saliva pooling at the corners of her lips, her tongue pressed against the underside of the cock as she tried to coax it further. She moaned around your shaft, the vibrations travelling down the length, earning a pleased growl from both Venom and you. Her throat tightened, and her eyes watered with the effort, but she didn’t stop, her hands grasping at the base, trying to stroke the thick length that still hung outside her mouth.
Venom rumbled in approval, his voice echoing in your head with dark amusement. She’s struggling, he growled. Look how hard she’s trying to take it…
You tilt your head, gazing down at Natasha as she struggles to take more of the thick, black goo cock in her mouth. Her lips stretch around it, her jaw working hard to accommodate the size. But she’s so eager, so determined to please you, that even through the strain, she never once breaks eye contact, her once green, now almost black eyes locking onto yours, filled with submission and want.
“Do you need some help from Daddy, baby?” you ask, your voice low and teasing. The title feels natural on your tongue, the control in the room shifting in a way that feels deeply satisfying to you.
Natasha whimpers around the cock in her mouth, nodding as best she can, her hands clutching the base, her body trembling with need.
Venom hums in your mind, dark and pleased. So desperate. So eager. He’s already shifting, his tendrils tightening slightly around Natasha’s body, holding her wrists tighter together behind her back, keeping her in place.
You can’t help but smirk as Venom's voice rumbles from your mouth, slightly deeper and more commanding. “Alright, Natty. But if you want to take it all, you have to listen carefully, okay? We’ll help you, but you can’t waste a single drop of what we give you. Understand?”
Natasha looks up at your whitened eyes, her eyes shining with desire and obedience, her breath coming in short gasps as she nods, still sucking on the length down her throat.
You mentally communicate with Venom, confusion flickering through your mind. What are you planning?
Trust me, he replies, his tone dripping with confidence. It’ll be fun.
Vee lets out a low chuckle in your head, and before Natasha (or you, really) can process what’s happening, you feel a warmth spreading from the base of the cock. Venom has taken control of the black goo, releasing a slick, viscous substance that slides down the shaft and releases into Natasha’s throat. She chokes slightly, caught off guard, but you keep her in place, one hand on the back of her head, holding her close as you murmur soothing words.
“Shh, baby. It’s alright. Just swallow it all. You can do it.”
Natasha’s eyes widen as she gags, but she follows your instructions, swallowing the thick substance as best she can. Tears spill down her cheeks, her throat working hard to take everything, but she doesn’t pull away. She’s too far gone now, too deep into submission to stop.
You caress her cheek as she struggles, your fingers gentle despite the control you hold over her. “There you go, baby. Just like that. You’re doing so well.”
The substance coats her throat, sliding down into her stomach, and you can feel and see the effect it has on her almost immediately. Her body goes slack, her muscles loosening as her eyes glaze over further. She’s in deep now, her mind slipping further into subspace with each passing second. She looks up at you, her face streaked with tears, her lips parted slightly as she gasps for air around your shaft, but the look in her eyes is nothing short of worship.
Venom chuckles again, a dark rumble that vibrates through your core. Just a little aphrodisiac. It’ll wear off in a few minutes. She’s ready for now, isn’t she?
You freeze for a moment, concern flickering in your chest at the mention of an aphrodisiac. But then Natasha smiles at you, her expression dumb and blissful, completely in love with you. She’s so far gone, so desperate to be everything you want, that you can’t help but feel a surge of affection and possessiveness toward her.
“You’re so beautiful like this, ‘Tasha,” you murmur, your fingers stroking through her red hair, smoothing it away from her tear-streaked face.
Natasha hums around the cock, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she basks in your praise. She looks like she’s floating, lost in the pleasure and submission you’re giving her. Her body trembles as she continues to suck, her lips working their way further down the shaft now, aided by the substance that has relaxed her throat.
You glance down at her, pride swelling in your chest as you see her take more and more of the cock into her mouth. She’s trying so hard, her determination clear in every movement, every strained breath. She gags once more, but this time she pushes through, her eyes closing tightly as she forces herself to take it all.
Venom, however, isn’t entirely satisfied. His tendrils curl tighter around her wrists, and two smaller ones slip from your body, unnoticed by Natasha as they slither toward her hands. Her fingers are trembling as she digs her nails in your thighs, trying to keep up with her mouth, but Venom has other plans.
She’s making you feel good, but she’s forgotten about me, he growls in your mind, and before you can respond, his smaller tendrils wrap around Natasha’s hands, guiding them away from your thighs and making them stroke his appendages.
“So dumb, so stupid. So fucked out, already.”
Natasha is so lost in the act of pleasing you that she barely notices his words and the fact that her hands had moved, her fingers instinctively wrapping around the slick tendrils. They tremble beneath her grip, warm and alive, and she automatically starts stroking them, her movements clumsy but eager. She doesn’t understand what’s happening, doesn’t realise she’s unknowingly preparing herself for what’s to come, but it doesn’t matter. All she wants is to please you both, to lose herself and forget about everything.
You groan softly, watching as Natasha easily deepthroats the cock now, her lips stretched wide around it, her throat working as she struggles to take everything you’re giving her. Some black goo drips down her chin, mixing with her saliva, and you can’t help but think she’s never looked more beautiful.
“Oh my… look at you, baby. You’re so pretty like that,” you murmur, your voice low and husky as your thumb strokes her cheek. “I guess you do deserve us, huh?”
Natasha’s eyes flutter, gazing up at you with such adoration and submission that it makes your heart ache. She hums around your cock, her body trembling as Venom’s tendrils pulse beneath her hands.
Venom, however, is far from done with her. Not yet. She’s good, but not good enough. She still needs more.
Natasha’s grip tightens on the tendrils, her fingers stroking them with more urgency now, unknowingly building up to what’s coming next. You can feel the shift, the anticipation in the air as Venom moves within you, preparing for what’s about to happen.
And you realise, deep down, that neither Natasha or you have any idea just how far you’re about to fall.
You tightened your grip on her hair, pulling her back just enough to look down at her tear-filled eyes, her lips still clinging to the tip of the cock. “You think you’re good for more?” you teased, the words a playful taunt as you let your cock slip from her lips, leaving her panting and messy. “Because V and Daddy both know you’re not even close to ready.”
The tendrils around her wrists tightened, pulling her back onto her knees, forcing her to look up at you as she licked her swollen lips. There was a fire in her gaze—a mixture of confusion, desperation, and surrender. Her chest heaved with each breath, and the ache between her legs only grew stronger, every denial winding her up tighter.
Venom’s voice rumbled in the room again, dark and teasing. Let’s see if you beg again, he said, his amusement unmistakable. Maybe then we’ll let you take more.
You gave her hair another sharp tug as you await her response, tilting her head back. “Well, Natalia?” you asked, voice dripping with condescension. “Are you going to beg for what you need? Or are you just going to keep struggling like a dumb little slut?”
Natasha's lips parted, and her voice came out as a breathy whisper. “Please…” she managed, her tone laced with need as she tried to catch her breath. “Please, I need it… I can take it, just—”
The cock pressed against her lips once more, cutting off her words. “Prove it,” you commanded, pushing her back down, letting her lips stretch around the thickness again. Her hands resumed their stroking of the other tendrils, unknowingly guiding her own fate as she struggled to take more of the cock into her mouth, making you realise that the aphrodisiac had indeed worn off incredibly quickly.
You’ll have to ask V about that.
With each thrust, Natasha’s mind clouded further with a haze of desperation and desire. The throbbing length slid over her tongue, and she could feel the tension in her body building. She fought to swallow the cock deeper, her throat constricting around it, but the stretch was nearly unbearable. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she felt new tears prick at the corners of her eyes.
“You’re doing so well,” you cooed, the praise dripped with honeyed condescension as you watched her efforts. “But look at you—so pretty and desperate for something you can’t quite handle without Daddy's help.”
Venom thrummed with dark satisfaction in your mind, his presence swelling with possessiveness. She wants it, though, desperately. Let’s give her what she needs.
You nodded, pulling Natasha off the cock again, forcing her to meet your gaze. “You want it, don’t you?” you teased, your fingers tightening in her hair. “You’re lucky V is being nice, ‘cause Daddy would’ve taken the ‘ruin me’ part more seriously.”
The moment you pulled her off, she gasped for air, her lips swollen and glistening, strands of saliva connecting her mouth to the thick cock. “Please,” she begged again, her voice cracking. “I need you… I need—I’ll do anything. Just–”
You smiled mischievously, letting her words hang in the air for a moment, a delicious tension building between you. “Anything, huh? That’s quite a promise, Natalia. But are you sure you can handle it?”
Her brow furrowed, and she nodded fervently, desperate to have her desires met. “I can take more! I can do it! Just make me forget, don’t worry about me—I need it… please…”
A shiver ran through your body at her words, the intensity of her desperation pulling at the primal within you. You released your grip on her hair slightly, giving her a moment to catch her breath, watching as her chest heaved with exertion, her beautiful breasts rising and falling in a tantalising rhythm.
“You want us, huh?” you said, the playful tone returning to your voice. “But you weren’t even able to fit us yet.” You glanced down at the two other tendrils, slick and ready. “Let’s see how well you can handle these, first.”
Natasha’s gaze flickered to the smaller pulsating tendrils in her hands, and her breath caught in her throat. The realisation of what you were asking hit her, and she hesitated, just for a moment. But the ache between her legs, the desperate need for release, drowned out any apprehension.
“Okay…,” she said, determination shining in her eyes as she began to stroke them with an unsteady rhythm, her eyes closing momentarily as she lost herself in the sensations.
“Good girl,” you praised, your voice a sultry whisper that sent a thrill of electricity down her spine. “Now, let’s see how far you can really go.”
With that, you pushed her back down onto the cock again, allowing it to slide past her lips and down her throat, inch by inch. Natasha gagged around the thickness, her body instinctively trying to pull back, but you held her firmly in place, forcing her to take more. Her eyes watered, but she didn’t stop; the pain was quickly swallowed by the pleasure.
You kept your hold on her hair as you let her stroke the tendrils, a rhythm forming between the two (three, really) of you—your thick cock plunging deep in her throat while her hands moved over the other two smaller appendages, preparing her for the overwhelming pleasure that was to come. Meanwhile, other tendrils continued to caress Natasha's body, sliding over her curves and teasing her sensitive skin. You could feel the heat radiating off her, the way her body responded to every movement and every command you gave.
“Now,” you said, your voice low and commanding, “I want you to suck it hard. Show Daddy how much you want it.”
With a whimper, Natasha complied, her lips working harder around the cock as she sank her mouth lower, taking as much as she could. Her tongue swirled around the base, and she felt the tendrils shift, eager for her attention.
You watched, entranced, as she struggled again but pressed on, her determination making her even more enticing. Each muffled moan that escaped her lips sent a shiver through you. You couldn’t help but tease her further. “Look at you—so lost in pleasure, and yet you’re still not enough. You still can’t fit everything.”
Natasha’s eyes rolled back slightly, the combination of your words and the sensation of the cock pushed her closer to the edge. With a shaky breath, she pulled her mouth away for a brief second. “I can take it… I just need a little more time…” she pleaded, desperation thick in her voice.
You shared your thoughts with Venom out loud, a smile playing on your lips. “What do you think, V?” you asked, your voice sweet. “Should we really give her a little more time?”
Venom responded with a low growl, the tendrils pulsing with anticipation as he pushed her back down, making her take the cock deeper once more.
No. Let’s show her what she can truly handle.
The two smaller tentacles, slick and smooth, slipped from her hands, tracing a tantalising path down her body. They teased her skin, gliding over her curves, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.
With a firm grip on the back of her head, you guided her deeper, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through you both. As you sank down onto your knees in front of her, you urged her further down with you until she was on all fours, the new position heightening the thrill in the air. Natasha’s eyes widened, sparkling with excitement as she realised exactly what was about to happen. A soft whine escaped her lips, muffled against you, as she instinctively began to bob her head up and down, eager to take you deeper.
You felt her excitement radiate through you, a mix of power and vulnerability that made your heart race. The tentacles, now fully in sync with your intentions, wrapped around her waist, holding her in place as they ventured lower, teasing and preparing for the intensity that was about to unfold.
Natasha's breath came in shallow gasps, her anticipation palpable as she pushed her body against the sensation, craving more. The combination of her eager submission and your steady control ignited a fire within you both.
The two smaller tentacles snake away from Natasha’s wrists, leaving shimmering trails of black across her skin as they glide down her body. Your hand remained at the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as you guided her down, pressing her lips tightly around your goo-coated shaft. Her eyes widened as recognition dawned, pupils blown wide with lust, and a desperate whine escaped her. The sounds she made were eager, needy, as she started to bob her head along your cock, taking you as deep as she could.
“That’s it, good girl,” you praised, your voice low and rough. “Daddy’s so proud of you… Look at how much you’re taking. You deserve all of it.” The words poured from you as much as they came from Venom, a shared intensity in your tone as you felt her mouth clench around you. “I’m going to make you forget all those bad thoughts,” you continued, your grip tightening at the nape of her neck. “Fill you up so good that there won’t be room for anything else.”
The smaller tentacles slid between her spread thighs, teasing along her dripping entrance. One finally slipped inside, gliding effortlessly into her heat, and her body responded instantly—clenching down around the intruder, drawing it deeper as if afraid it might leave her empty. Her back arched under the pressure, her fingers digging into the floor as she adjusted to the slick, writhing sensation within her.
But the second tentacle wasn’t far behind, nudging against the tight space already occupied, seeking to join its twin. You could feel the resistance it met, the way her walls struggled to accommodate the sudden intrusion. Natasha's body trembled, and the extra stretch sent a deep groan vibrating through your cock, the pleasure shared between you and Venom.
When the second tentacle finally breached her, it forced its way past the tightness with a slow but relentless push, stretching her open further than she thought possible. Her mouth faltered around your shaft as she struggled to keep sucking, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. The tentacles began to move in unison, curling and twisting inside her, filling her so completely that every thrust pushed her forward, sliding her lips along your length. She gagged when your cock hit the back of her throat again, and the slick sounds of her efforts mixed with the wet slaps echoing from behind her.
You loosened your grip, allowing her to pull back slightly and catch her breath. Her gasps were sharp, desperate, as she tried to fill her lungs. Her eyes looked up at you, glossed over, a mix of awe and raw desire painting her flushed face. You thumbed away a strand of hair clinging to her cheek, your touch unexpectedly tender. “Go on,” you murmured, stroking her jawline. “Breathe, Natalia. But don’t think you’re getting a break.”
Venom took over, surging into her at your words. The tentacles began to thrust faster, plunging deeper, and her back arched further, a string of moans spilling from her lips even as your cock brushed over her face, leaving trails of black goo and her own saliva and previous arousal across her skin. The force of each thrust sent her rocking forward, every plunge stretching her open and hitting spots that made her eyes roll back. It was as if there was no end to the depth they could reach, filling her so completely that her body shook with each motion.
You watched the way her tight heat gripped the tentacles, sucking them in greedily, her slickness coating the blackened limbs. Her body reacted instinctively, hips pushing back to meet each thrust even as her mind struggled to catch up. She was trembling with every breath, gasping your name between ragged moans.
“Cum whenever you need to, sweetheart,” you whispered, your voice a mix of tenderness and command. You wanted her to feel worshipped, adored—wanted, even if she craved to be fucked senseless. “Daddy’s going to take care of you, fill you up so good you won’t remember anything else.”
Your thumb found her mouth again, slipping between her parted lips as the tentacles continued to piston inside her, relentless and unyielding. Natasha’s tongue flicked against your skin as she sucked your thumb into her mouth, her lips closing around it like she’s desperate for something to ground herself with. She was so lost in the sensations coursing through her, the stretch, the fullness, the overwhelming feeling of being so completely dominated—and yet, utterly cherished.
Natasha’s body trembled uncontrollably as the tentacles relentlessly kept thrusting inside her. Her wetness coats the slick limbs, each deep, steady push forcing a gasp from her throat and a white ring to form at the base of the tendrils. The overwhelming fullness drove out every coherent thought, leaving only raw sensation behind. Her muscles tightened and quivered, caught between the pressure building within her and the need to feel even more.
Your grip in her hair tightened, urging her on. "You're so close, Natasha," you murmured, your voice a low growl of encouragement. "Show Daddy how good you can be. Let it all go."
The tentacles pulsed in unison, twisting slightly as they filled her. They pushed against those perfect spots deep inside, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. Her body reacted on instinct, hips rolling to meet each thrust, every movement driving her closer to the brink. Her breath hitched, catching in her throat as a keening scream escaped, her eyes squeezing shut as the intensity builds to a fever pitch.
The sensation was too much; the stretch, the heat, the rhythm—it all blended into one overwhelming wave. She could feel it in her core, a tightening coil that snaps when the tentacles thrust deep and hit just the right angle. Her climax crashed over her, sudden and all-consuming. Her inner muscles clamped down hard, squeezing the intruding limbs with each pulsating wave of her release. The gush of wetness that followed is undeniable, her essence coating her thighs and the tentacles in a hot rush.
You kept her there, suspended in the throes of her orgasm, as the tentacles maintained their deep, pulsing rhythm. “That’s it,” you murmured, voice laced with possessive praise. “Just like that… let it all out.” You watched her unravel, every tremor and clench of her body sending a surge of heat through you.
The tentacles eased their movements gradually, helping her through the last tremors, her body still quivering with aftershocks. When she finally collapsed against the floor, breathless and spent, you cradled her face, your thumb brushing over her cheek. Natasha’s eyes fluttered open, dazed and glassy, her expression a blend of bliss and exhaustion. A satisfied smile tugged at her lips, the glow of her climax still warming her flushed skin.
You leaned down, placing a tender kiss on her forehead. "You did so well," you whispered, pulling her up into your embrace.
Natasha’s body trembled as the tendrils lifted her off your lap, carefully setting her on her feet. She swayed for a moment, dizzy from pleasure and exhaustion, but Venom’s inky tendrils kept her steady. They caressed her skin with a possessive tenderness, wrapping around her waist, gliding along her curves, and teasing her sensitive breasts. One coiled around her neck, another resting lightly against the scars that marred her soft skin, tracing them like they were sacred. The tendrils moved as if to remind her that she was theirs, yours—marked and claimed.
You stood as well, watching the way Natasha’s eyes fluttered open, the glassy green orbs hazy with desire and fatigue. Her gaze met the reflection in the large mirror before them, the sight making her cheeks flush deeper. She could see it all—the way her body responded, the way she was wrapped in Venom’s hold, and the undeniable hunger in your eyes as you stood behind her and watched her unravel.
“Look at yourself, Naaliat,” you murmured, your voice a soothing command as you stepped closer behind her. You tilted her head up with a gentle touch, forcing her to meet her own gaze in the mirror. “See how beautiful you are… how perfect you look like this, taken and worshipped.”
A shudder ran through her body, and she bit down on her lip, a small sob escaping her. “Please… Плиз [please]—” Her voice was faint, exhausted but needy. “I need you inside me again… just—fill me up… make me forget everything.”
Your hands slid down her sides, settling on her hips. “You want me back inside you?” you whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to the back of her neck, right where your hand was already curling possessively. “Want Daddy to make you feel so full that you can’t think?”
She nodded, a choked moan escaping as she pressed back into you, desperate for the connection. “Yes… please, I want you… I need you… please.”
Without another word, you positioned yourself at her entrance, teasing her thoroughly soaked folds. She gasped softly as you pushed forward, sliding back inside her inch by inch. The sensation sent a deep tremor through her body, her core clenching tightly around you as she adjusted to the now more familiar stretch. The new angle allowed her to see it all in the mirror—how your cock filled her, how her stomach bulged slightly with each inch you gave her. She could see the way her body moulded to yours, taking you deeper and deeper until she could feel, could see you pressing against that spot inside that made her breath hitch.
Natasha’s eyes glazed over as she stared at her reflection, tears welling up from the overwhelming blend of pleasure and emotion. “Please,” she whimpered, her voice breaking. “Make me forget… fuck me until I pass out. I don’t want to feel anything else… just… только ты [just you]…”
Your grip on her tightened, one hand holding her hip as you slowly rocked into her, barely moving but enough to make her feel every inch. “Oh, my ‘Tasha,” you breathed, leaning closer to whisper against her ear, “I’ll make you forget, but you’ll stay with me, alright? I’ll decide when we stop.”
She nodded, a quiet sob slipping from her lips as she leaned back into your embrace, trusting you to take away everything she didn’t want to feel. The tendrils around her breasts squeezed gently, heightening the sensations as you held her close, not moving inside her but letting the pulsing thickness of Venom’s form keep her stretched and filled.
You began to trail kisses along the back of her neck, letting your teeth graze the sensitive skin. You marked her over and over, leaving love bites that bruised purple and red against her pale flesh. Your nails scraped lightly down her spine, leaving faint red lines in their wake, before gripping her hips again. The tendrils continued their worship, one slipping down to tease the bundle of nerves between her thighs, while another wrapped around her throat like a lover’s hand, possessive but gentle.
“You’re doing so good, Nat,” you murmured, your breath hot against her ear. “You deserve all of this… every kiss, every touch… every mark I leave on your skin.”
Natasha’s breathing came in short gasps, her chest heaving with every praise and caress. The tears that spilled from her eyes were born from the intensity of the sensations, the need to be loved and claimed in a way that erased everything else. She felt her body trembling, overwhelmed by the constant, unyielding fullness inside her and the way your voice wrapped around her, grounding her even as she slipped deeper into subspace.
“Y-you… you’re not stopping, right?” Her voice was a soft, broken whisper, and her eyes, half-lidded and dazed, gazed at your reflection in the mirror.
“No, baby,” you promised, brushing a thumb over the tears on her cheek. “We’re not stopping. You stay right here, with me… You won’t fall away unless I say you can.”
She let out a shuddering breath, nodding again as the sensations around her body became sharper, more vivid. Every touch from the tendrils and every kiss along her skin sent her closer to the edge. She clenched around you reflexively, as if trying to pull you even deeper, to fill every empty part of herself. You grinned against her shoulder, tightening your hold as you bit down on the tender spot where her neck met her shoulder, marking her one more time.
“Good girl,” you whispered, the praise flowing like velvet over her skin. “Keep holding on for me… let me love you like this… Let me show you just how much you mean to me.”
Natasha’s only response was a muffled sob as her head tilted back, giving herself completely to you and the sensations you brought. The tendrils, your body, the mirrored reflections—they surrounded her with the intimacy and connection she had craved. She didn’t need to think or remember; all she needed to do was feel.
Natasha’s body trembled, the constant pressure building to a peak as your praises and tender touches overwhelmed her. The tendrils caressing her breasts, teasing her nipples, and stroking her sensitive clit heightened the sensations until the tight coil in her core snapped. Her release came in a wave, rippling through her body as she cried out, her walls fluttering and tightening around you. She shuddered violently, her entire being consumed by the intensity of her orgasm. More tears slipped down her cheeks as she moaned, her legs trembling as Venom’s tendrils held her upright.
You murmured soothing words against her skin, your hands gently squeezing her hips to keep her grounded. The mirror reflected the raw beauty of her release—her tear-streaked face, parted lips, and the arch of her back as she rode the fading waves of pleasure. The sight only intensified your desire, a deep hunger simmering in your veins as you watched her come undone. But then Natasha’s breath hitched, and her voice, still laced with the echoes of her orgasm, came out in a whisper that was almost a plea.
“Please… fuck me harder,” she breathed, the desperation thick in her tone. “I want you to ruin me… ещё [more].”
The words shot through you like lightning, sparking something fierce and uncontrollable. Before you could fully process, Venom surged forward, momentarily taking over as your grip tightened possessively on her waist. You growled low in your throat, spinning Natasha around and slamming her back against the wall, the impact rough but cushioned by Venom’s tendrils. Her eyes flew open in shock, rolling back as you thrust into her with renewed force, your cock plunging deep inside her with a primal need.
“F-Fuck…” you cursed under your breath, the sight of Natasha’s blissful expression, her head thrown back and mouth open in a silent scream, sending a jolt of pleasure down your spine. For a moment, you let the darkness of Venom’s influence control your movements, feeling the raw power surge through your limbs as you pounded into her.
Natasha’s hands scrabbled for purchase on your shoulders, her legs wrapping around your waist as if to pull you closer. Her voice was hoarse and breathy, each cry and moan filled with desperation as her nails dug into your shoulders. “Yes…! Please—don’t stop!” she sobbed, her thighs trembling from the relentless pace. “I-I’m yours—только твой [only yours]!”
Her words pierced through the haze in your mind, and you fought to regain control, cursing Venom for taking over, but also silently thanking him for the sight before you. The primal lust in Natasha’s eyes, the way her body bowed toward you, desperate to take more—everything about the moment burned itself into your mind. With a growl, you pulled back, forcing yourself to slow just enough to catch her gaze, your hands gripping her hips so tightly that the outline of your fingers would surely bruise.
“You’re gonna scream Daddy’s name, huh?” you rasped, each word dripping with a dangerous blend of adoration and dominance. “Then look at me, Nat… I want to see those pretty eyes when I fuck you senseless.”
Her eyes fluttered open, half-lidded and glassy, but she held your gaze as you drove into her harder, setting a brutal rhythm that had her arching against the wall. Your mouth found her throat, teeth scraping against the delicate skin before you sank them in, leaving a fresh mark. You moved up the side of her neck, biting and kissing a trail to her jawline. The roughness of your movements only seemed to make Natasha hungrier for more; she tightened her legs around you, her nails raking down your back as she clung to you for dear life.
The tendrils continued their sensual assault, teasing her nipples, squeezing her breasts, and wrapping possessively around her neck. One of them dipped down to circle her clit, rubbing it in time with your thrusts, and Natasha’s entire body tensed, her cries growing louder with each rough snap of your hips. Her walls tightened around you, pulsing as she teetered on the edge once again, her body begging for that blissful oblivion.
You grinned against her skin, one hand coming up to grip her jaw, forcing her to look directly into your eyes. “That’s right, Nat,” you growled, your voice raw and ragged with desire. “I’m not stopping until you fall apart for me. You wanted this… remember?”
Her breath hitched, and she nodded frantically, tears welling in her eyes as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. “Yes—yes! Please… fuck… don’t stop…!”
You slammed into her harder, your grip on her tightening as you angled your thrusts to hit that spot inside her that made her see stars. Natasha’s body arched sharply, her nails digging deeper into your skin as she cried out your name, the sound echoing through the room. The mixture of pain and pleasure tore through her, a perfect storm of sensations that overwhelmed her senses.
“Good girl,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss the tears from her cheeks. “Let go for me… lose yourself. I’ve got you.”
Natasha’s sobs grew louder, her voice breaking as the overwhelming pleasure finally pushed her over the edge again. Her whole body clenched around you, her head falling back against the wall as she shattered, the intensity of her orgasm ripping through her like a tidal wave. You didn’t stop, driving her higher and higher, drawing out every last tremor of her release.
As she came down from the high, you eased your pace, finally allowing a hint of softness to return to your movements. You nuzzled against her neck, leaving one last bite at the nape as you whispered, “That’s my baby… We’ll always take care of you.”
Venom's voice, unusually soft and filled with affection, followed. "We love you, pretty Natty, more than anything."
Natasha’s breathing was ragged, her body limp in your arms as you held her up. The tendrils slowly withdrew, unwinding from her curves, but the possessive marks remained—a testament to the passion you had unleashed. You pulled back enough to meet her gaze, cupping her flushed face with both hands as you pressed your forehead to hers.
“Are you still with me?” you asked gently, your voice steady despite the fire still raging in your veins.
She nodded weakly, her eyes drifting closed as she leaned into your touch. “Always,” she whispered, her voice hoarse but full of trust. “I’m yours… only yours. But please—I need more…"
A wicked smile tugged at your lips as you heard the desperation in her voice, her request stoking the fire that raged within you. You guided her toward the bed, and as she bent over, you gave a subtle command to Venom, allowing the dark tendrils to bind her wrists together at the small of her back. The black, sinuous shapes tightened around her, arching her back as they held her in place, completely exposed and vulnerable to your every touch.
Tendrils caressed her skin like whispers—some coiled around her breasts, squeezing them possessively while another toyed with her nipples, rolling and pinching the hardened buds. Another traced the curve of her neck, slithering over the faint bruises you had left earlier. One even reached her lips, teasingly pressing against them as if daring her to open up and take it inside.
You stepped closer, your cock rubbing against the slick heat of her entrance. “You want more, ‘Tash-?” you growled, positioning yourself behind her. “You’re gonna get it.”
Without another word, you thrust into her, burying yourself deep with one powerful stroke. The angle had her pressing into the bed sharply, her back bowing as you filled her to the hilt. Her breath hitched, a strangled cry escaping her lips as the feeling of being stretched and claimed all over again surged through her.
You didn’t give her time to adjust, your hips slamming into her with a rough rhythm that had her crying out, each sound more desperate than the last. The tendrils gripping her wrists tightened their hold, and the ones caressing her body continued their sensual assault, squeezing her breasts, trailing along her sides, and occasionally brushing over her lips, reminding her that she was entirely at your mercy.
The wet slap of skin against skin filled the room as you pounded into her, each thrust harder than the last. You reached back with one hand, letting it come down in a sharp smack against her ass. The impact left a red mark on her skin, and Natasha’s cry of surprise was swallowed up by the tendril that pushed into her mouth, muffling her moans.
“Look at you,” you murmured, your voice rough with lust as you watched her reflection in the windows across the room. “Bent over like this… taking everything I give you. You’re perfect, ‘Tasha… so fucking beautiful when you’re falling apart.”
Natasha’s muffled moans grew more frantic, her body shaking with each hard thrust. She could feel the tendrils teasing her nipples, the sting of each spanking that left her skin raw and sensitive, and the thick cock relentlessly stretching her open. The sensations melded together, creating an overwhelming cocktail of pleasure and pain that left her mind spinning. Tears kept streaming down her cheeks as she cried out, her voice breaking around the tendril still at her lips.
“More… please…” she managed to gasp out as the tendril withdrew momentarily, her words breathy and ragged. “Don’t stop… mark m—make me yours.”
The darkness in your mind and gaze deepened, and a low growl rumbled from your throat as you tightened your grip on her hips, your nails digging into the flesh. “You’re already mine, baby, already ours,” you whispered, leaning down to bite into the curve of her shoulder, leaving another mark in the wake of your teeth. “But if you want us to claim every inch of you… then I’ll make sure you never forget.”
Your thrusts picked up speed, slamming into her with renewed vigour. Each harsh stroke sent her body rocking forward, her cries turning to breathless sobs as her vision blurred. The tendrils seemed to mirror your movements, tugging at her nipples and squeezing her throat just enough to add to the pressure building inside her.
Another smack came down on her ass, harder this time, and her whole body jolted. You could see the bruises already blossoming on her pale skin, evidence of your possessive touch. With every thrust, you pushed her closer to the edge, the delicious burn of overstimulation spreading through her limbs.
“You’re gonna come for me again,” you demanded, your voice low and rough. “You’re gonna scream my name and know who you belong to. Understand?”
Natasha could barely form words, her head nodding weakly as she struggled to keep herself grounded against the onslaught of sensations. The tendrils tightened their hold on her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge, until she could no longer hold back.
With a final, desperate cry, she shattered around you, her entire body convulsing as the orgasm tore through her. The tendrils held her in place, squeezing and caressing her trembling form as you drove into her even harder, drawing out every last tremor of her release.
You slowed your pace but didn’t stop, keeping your cock buried deep inside her as you leaned down to kiss the tears from her cheeks, nipping at the sensitive skin of her neck. The tendril at her lips retracted, and you heard her breathless voice whisper, "Daddy—Я только твой [I’m only yours]…"
Her submission stoked the embers of your desire, and you didn’t let her rest for long. You pulled back just enough to get a better angle, and as you slammed into her once more, she gasped sharply, her body jolting from the impact.
"Good girl," you growled, pulling back to deliver another sharp slap to her ass, the sound echoing in the room. "You’re gonna give me one more. And this time, you won’t pass out until I say so."
You moved Natasha up on the bed, your grip firm yet reassuring. As she leaned forward, she instinctively fell into position, getting on all fours. The tendrils wrapped around her waist and thighs, keeping her steady as she settled into place. You took a moment to appreciate the way her knees sank into the mattress, her back arching just right, presenting herself for you. It was a mix of vulnerability and trust, and you could feel the tension in the air, electric and alive.
The evidence of her previous orgasms glistened on her thighs, and her breaths came in ragged pants as she braced herself, desperate for more.
You wasted no time, gripping her hips with a bruising hold and spreading her legs wider. The slickness between her thighs coated your cock as you lined up and drove into her with a deep, punishing thrust. Her entire body jerked forward, her cry caught between a moan and a gasp, the stretch of being filled again making her walls tighten instinctively around you once more.
“Fuck, that’s it,” you growled, pulling out just enough to slam back into her, setting a brutal pace. “Look at you, princess… taking everything I give you.”
The tendril at her neck slithered up to cup her jaw, gently coaxing her head up to face the windows. She caught sight of herself—eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed, body trembling with every thrust—and the sight drove her further into the haze of subspace, where nothing existed except you, Venom, and the overwhelming need to be completely and utterly used.
Another hard slap echoed through the room as your palm connected with her ass, the stinging sensation spreading heat across her skin. “You want more?” you demanded, your hand coming down again in quick succession, each smack making her cry out harder. “Beg for it. Let me hear you say it.”
“Yes! More—please…” Her voice was breathless, ragged with desperation. “I need it… I need you to—oh god—fuck me until I can’t—”
The words broke off into a strangled moan as you drove into her even harder, your hips snapping forward with relentless force. Her entire body quaked with every thrust, her legs trembling violently as she struggled to stay upright. The tendrils at her wrists tightened, holding her in place as you reached forward and tangled a hand in her hair, pulling her head back sharply to whisper into her ear.
“Fight to stay awake, baby,” you growled, your voice low and rough, almost matching Venom’s. “You’re not passing out on us yet. I’m not done with you.”
Natasha whimpered at the command, her muscles burning from the effort to stay conscious. The pleasure was dizzying, almost unbearable, as your cock stretched her to the limit, the wet slap of skin against skin echoing in the room. Her vision blurred, her mind fogged with a potent mix of pain and ecstasy. But she forced herself to stay present, gasping for air, her entire body clenching around you in an attempt to stay grounded.
You leaned forward and bit down on the back of her neck, your teeth sinking into her skin with enough pressure to leave more prominent marks. “You love this, don’t you?” you murmured against her flushed skin. “Love being pushed past your limits… love being completely wrecked…”
“Yes—да [yes]!” Her voice was a broken sob as she nodded frantically. “I—please… just—”
Your hand cracked against her ass again, cutting off her words as another sharp sting spread across her skin. “Good girl,” you murmured, licking the spot where your teeth had left the new indentations. “Now stay awake… watch yourself.”
She fought to keep her eyes open, her reflection a blur of flushed skin, glistening sweat, and desperate need. Her body arched back to meet each thrust, wanting to be filled even deeper, to be utterly consumed. The tendrils kept caressing and teasing her, one slipping back between her lips to muffle her cries as the other continued its rough play on her breasts, pinching and squeezing in time with your thrusts.
Her walls tightened around you with every movement, her legs threatening to give out as pleasure washed over her in overwhelming waves. She could feel herself nearing the edge, the familiar tension building low in her belly. Her mind threatened to slip away again, to surrender completely to the consuming sensations.
But you didn’t let up, keeping your punishing rhythm, driving her closer and closer to that brink. “Stay with me, Natasha,” you commanded, your hand curling possessively around her throat as you continued pounding into her. “You don’t get to pass out until I say so… I want you aware of every second I’m inside you.”
Natasha whimpered around the tendril in her mouth, her entire body straining to obey. The pressure was building rapidly, her pulse hammering in her ears as she teetered on the edge of consciousness. With a final, deep thrust, you ground against her, letting the overwhelming sensation push her past her limit. Her body went rigid, a sharp cry escaping her as the powerful orgasm tore through her, her walls clenching around you with a desperate intensity.
You rode out her climax, the tendrils continuing to caress and tease her sensitised body, prolonging her pleasure. When her cries finally quieted to ragged gasps, you didn’t give her time to recover, pulling her up roughly by the hair once more.
“You’re not done yet, Nat,” you growled as you moved her onto the bed, adjusting her so she was positioned perfectly for what came next. “You said you wanted more…”
Natasha’s entire body shivered as you guided her onto your lap, her back pressed firmly against your chest. She was already trembling with exhaustion, her limbs struggling to support her weight as her hands weakly gripped your thighs. Her skin glistened with sweat, and her breathing was ragged as you traced a thumb over her drenched entrance, feeling the slickness there.
"Come on, sweetheart," you coaxed, your voice low in her ear, vibrating through her as you held her steady. "Don’t give up on me now. I want to see you take it… every inch."
The black tendrils coiled around her waist, lifting her up effortlessly before pulling her down again, impaling her on your thick cock in one swift motion. Natasha let out a sharp cry, her nails digging into your thighs as the overwhelming stretch filled her completely. The tendrils took over the rhythm, lifting her just enough before forcing her back down, forcing her to take you as deep as she could. You could feel how tightly she gripped you, as if her body couldn’t bear to be without you.
"Look at that… so stretched and stuffed full," you murmured, raking your nails down her back as you lay down against the sheets. The tendrils pulsed and twisted around her, one sneaking lower, slick and thin, teasing at the tight ring of muscle at her back entrance.
You watched intently the way Natasha’s breath hitched, her body tensing as the tendril pressed inward, slowly inching inside. It was small compared to your appendage, just enough to add an extra spark of sensation, but the way her muscles fluttered around it was intoxicating.
Her moans deepened, the new dual stretch drawing strained gasps from her as she tried to ground herself, her head falling back forward, chin against her sternum. “Tак…Tак полно [So… so full]” she whimpered, her strength fading as the sensations overwhelmed her. Her body trembled as the tendril moved inside her, curling and rubbing against the sensitive walls while you started thrusting up into her. The way her swollen core squeezed around you was mesmerising, her slick folds stretched wide as she struggled to accommodate the relentless depth.
“That’s it, baby. Feel how deep we are?” you murmured, your voice laced with a growl as you reached around to cup her breast, squeezing and rubbing the sensitive skin. “You’re taking it so well… I can feel you clenching down on me, like you don’t want to let go.”
Natasha’s response was a desperate whimper, her body shuddering against yours. The tendrils continued their merciless pace, lifting her up and forcing her back down onto your cock while the smaller one inside her ass squirmed, adding a deeper, more intense pressure. Her cries grew louder, more urgent, her mind slipping further as the pleasure burned through her.
The tendril inside her shifted, rubbing against her sensitive spots, while the ones around her waist guided her movements. Each time she sank down, the stretch and fullness grew even more overwhelming, and she was helpless to do anything but take it all. You watched as her body fluttered and tensed with each thrust, your grip tightening on her hips as you raked your nails down her back, leaving a fresh set of marks along her skin.
“Good girl… keep taking it,” you praised, rubbing slow circles over her swollen clit with your thumb. “I want to see you come for me again, princess.”
The touch on her clit and your words sent Natasha over the edge. Her body went rigid, then convulsed as her climax crashed through her, her walls pulsing around your cock while the smaller tendril continued to squirm and curl inside her. Her cries filled the room, her entire form tensing and trembling as she surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure, shuddering in your arms.
You kept her there, your cock buried deep inside her once more as you felt her body fluttering, the tight grip she had on you never easing, even as she came undone completely. The tendrils held her steady, ensuring she wouldn’t collapse from the intensity of it all, keeping her suspended in that place where pain and pleasure blurred together.
After the waves of pleasure began to subside, you cradled Natasha in your arms, her exhausted body melting into yours as the black tendrils continued to wrap around her, offering both comfort and a sense of belonging. Venom emerged from your shoulder, his serpentine form lolling out as he leaned in, his long tongue brushing against Natasha’s cheek. “You’re ours, pretty Natty,” he murmured, his voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down her spine.
Natasha closed her eyes, tears streaming silently down her face, overwhelmed by the echoes of the mission and the weight of her past. But each caress of your fingers through her hair and the tendrils wrapping her gently served as a reminder of the love you shared. The tenderness of the moment made her heart swell, even as the memories threatened to pull her under.
Venom licked her cheek again, a reassuring gesture as you finished re-braiding her hair, weaving the damp strands together with care. You brushed your thumb under her eyes, catching the stray tears. “Hey,” you said softly, your voice a soothing balm. “What’s wrong? Talk to us.”
She leaned into you, her brow furrowing as vulnerability etched across her features. “I… I want you to eat me out,” she admitted, her voice a mix of embarrassment and need, coloured with an undercurrent of urgency.
For a moment, you were taken aback, confusion clouding your thoughts. You blinked at her, processing her words, unsure if you had heard correctly. You had done this before, intimately and eagerly, so why was she so shy now? Her gaze darted away, the confidence in her expression faltering as she caught Venom’s gaze, the creature always so certain, so assertive.
“Please,” Natasha murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, glancing back at you. “I want you… to feel me… to taste me… with his tongue.” It took a moment for the realisation to sink in, a jolt of awareness hitting you like a wave.
You raised an eyebrow, completely taken aback. “Are you serious? Can you even handle more?” Your surprise was palpable, but there was an unmistakable thrill in her request.
Natasha met your gaze, a spark of defiance igniting in her submissive eyes. “You haven’t fucked me into oblivion yet. I’m still conscious,” she shot back, her lips tiredly curling into a teasing smile.
“Oh yeah? Because you just drooling all over yourself is very consciously done,” Venom quipped back, making a laugh bubble in your chest.
Her giggle was a soft sound that contrasted with the heat of the moment. “I’m still conscious NOW,” she replied, biting her lip as her mischievous nature shone through. “And I didn’t pass out… yet.”
With newfound determination, Natasha slipped into her Black Widow mindset and pushed you gently onto your back, her trembling limbs assisting her as she moved. “Now, let me take control,” she commanded, her eyes glimmering with a mix of lust and authority as she positioned herself above you, hovering teasingly close to your face.
You could hardly process the shift in dynamics, her confidence radiating as she slowly sank down. The heat of her body and the urgency of her movements sent a thrill through you, and you wasted no time, diving in to taste her completely.
“Oh, fuck,” she breathed, her voice thick with need. The way she grounded herself against you spoke of her desire to let go of everything else, to be consumed by the moment. You could feel her soft moans reverberate through your body, adding to the intoxicating rhythm of the experience.
As you lost yourself in her, the tendrils of Venom coiled around her, their touch both teasing and tantalising, making Natasha shiver with delight. They wrapped around her thighs and waist, pressing gently, enhancing the sensations coursing through her. Each flicker of movement from the tendrils elicited gasps from her lips, a testament to the pleasure you orchestrated as you held her steady, ensuring she felt the full depth of every moment.
Then, with an unspoken agreement, you surrendered your tongue to the symbiotic connection you shared. It was no longer just your mouth; it became Venom’s tongue—long, sinuous, and impossibly skilled—eager to explore and tease.
As Natasha ground down harder, her core enveloping your mouth completely, you felt the tendrils shift, supporting her as she settled into place. Venom’s tongue flicked and swirled, tracing patterns that sent waves of pleasure coursing through Natasha’s body. You revelled in the thrill of being both in control and utterly consumed by the moment.
“Боже, да [God, yes]!” she cried out, her back arching as her fingers found their way to the tendrils, clutching them tightly to keep herself steady. The sensation of Venom’s tongue exploring every inch of her sent her spiralling, her breaths coming in quick, desperate gasps as she surrendered to the waves of pleasure crashing over her.
Each flick and thrust of Venom’s tongue was purposeful, eliciting moans that filled the room and danced in the air. You could feel Natasha’s body trembling, the way her skin glistened under the low light, radiating heat as she lost herself in the experience. She was teetering on the brink, the tension building within her as you expertly navigated her desires.
“Don’t stop, please!” she begged, urgency lacing her words. The tendrils maintained their teasing grip, enhancing every sensation, every gasp and cry that escaped her lips. You could sense her nearing the edge, the sweet pressure coiling tighter and tighter.
“Let go for me, baby,” you murmured against her, feeling the way her body responded to your words, the connection deepening as you encouraged her to embrace the pleasure.
With each thrust of Venom’s tongue, you could see the way Natasha’s body reacted—her legs trembling, her core tightening, the bliss radiating through her as she surrendered to the moment.
As the waves of ecstasy crashed over her, Natasha let out a shuddering moan, her body quaking as her first orgasm washed over her. She clutched at the tendrils, holding on for dear life as the pleasure consumed her, threatening to pull her under. The sensations continued to roll through her, igniting every nerve, leaving her breathless and gasping for more.
But you didn’t stop; you pressed on, guided by the rhythm of her moans and the way her body responded to every flick of Venom’s tongue. Just as she began to come down from her high, you could feel her build again, the pressure mounting as you expertly teased her, driving her back toward the edge.
“О, Боже, не могу [Oh god, I can’t]!” she gasped, but the urgency in her voice was unmistakable. The tendrils tightened around her, grounding her as her body trembled, ready to release once more.
With one final thrust of Venom’s tongue, she erupted again, a second orgasm crashing through her with a force that left her breathless. She cried out, a beautiful sound of surrender and ecstasy, her grip on the tendrils tightening as she clung to them, desperate not to collapse onto the bed. The pleasure rippled through her, a wave of bliss that left her trembling and gasping, and you could feel the satisfaction in every quiver of her body as you continued to tease and taste, relishing the moment.
But then, as the last waves of ecstasy rolled through her, Natasha’s body went still. Her eyes fluttered, a soft sigh escaping her lips before she slumped forward, overwhelmed by the intensity of her pleasure.
A grin spread across your face, a mix of pride and affection swelling in your chest as you gently cradled her in your arms, ensuring she was comfortable. You carefully laid her down on the bed, the tendrils still holding her, keeping her safe and secure as you brushed a strand of hair from her face.
You couldn’t help but watch her serene expression, a smile playing at your lips as you took in the sight of her, knowing that you had shared something incredibly special.
Suddenly, with a swift movement, black tendrils shot out from your body, darting toward the bathroom. You watched amused as they splashed into the sink, soaking a cloth before rushing back to you. Venom’s form emerged from your shoulder, a sly grin spreading across his ‘face’ as he popped out, his tongue flicking playfully. “Made her pass out; I win!” he declared triumphantly.
You shook your head, unable to suppress a chuckle as you swatted him away gently. “Stupid parasite,” you muttered, but the words held no bite. With a soft laugh still bubbling in your chest, you returned your focus to Natasha, cradling her in your arms once more.
As you settled back into the bed, you could feel Venom enveloping you both, his presence warm and protective. It was a ritual you had come to cherish—a cocoon of safety that wrapped around you and Natasha, drawing you both into a soothing embrace. With her nestled against you and the gentle rhythm of Venom’s tendrils surrounding you, you slowly felt yourself drifting off to sleep, the world fading away into a blissful quiet.
pairing- avenger!natasha romanoff x fem!scarletwitch!avenger!reader
cw- 18+!!; dom!top!reader + clone lol, sub!bottom!natasha, double penetration, mommy kink (reader), daddy kink (clone), breeding, creampie (i'm not sorry), all kinds of positions icl, strappie (r wearing), blowie (clone rcv?), thigh job!! , rough, crying (n). pure porn actually, no plot at all. i think those are all the warnings... CANT BELIEVE I FORGOT ABOUT THESE LOL; anal, dp in 1, dp in 2 !!
wc- 11.198k ;)
a/n- i'm sorry but i genuinely could NOT read this a second time to truly finish editing, so there's possibilities of repetition (although i tried to catch any while i wrote and re-read the first time) :') catching up tho, let's gooo!! beware of the warnings!!!!!!!! ;) also, russian translations from google translate, i didn't want to ask my friend! (sorry)
prompts- cloned pleasure, double penetration
synopsis- filth. i'll think about this later, but this is PURE PORN.
The mission had gone sideways fast. You were supposed to be in and out, a quick retrieval of stolen intel buried deep in enemy territory. But now, the safehouse was your only option. Snow crunched underfoot as you and Natasha hurried through the dimly lit forest, the cold biting through even your tactical gear. The tension between you had been brewing long before the mission, but now it was thick, unavoidable, and simmering beneath the surface.
You stole a glance at Natasha, her breath visible in the freezing air, the tight lines of her jaw a sure sign she was on edge. She was used to dangerous missions, but this one had pushed both of you. You hadn’t even needed to speak; the way her green eyes darted to you for assurance told you everything. She trusted you—but something else lingered there too, something unspoken.
Finally, the safehouse came into view, barely visible through the dense trees. It was nothing more than a tiny cabin, hidden away, off the grid. It looked worn and uninviting, but it was shelter, and that was all that mattered. The door creaked as you forced it open, ushering Natasha inside before taking one last look at the surrounding forest. No movement. No signs of pursuit—for now.
Inside, the temperature was hardly any better. You rubbed your hands together, fingers still tinged black from the magic you’d used during the mission. Natasha’s gaze flicked to your hands for a brief moment, and you could see the curiosity in her eyes mingling with the tension. You were trying to suppress it, trying to hide the way the Darkhold’s magic was affecting you, but it wasn’t that easy.
The room was dim, illuminated only by the pale light filtering through the cracks in the walls. There were no blankets or supplies in sight, and the chill of the air seeped into your bones. You felt the weight of the atmosphere around you—a mix of adrenaline from the mission and an underlying current of something more intimate, more personal.
“What are you thinking?” you asked, your voice softer than the situation warranted, as if the space between you held more than just cold air.
Natasha hesitated for a moment, glancing at your hands. “I’m thinking we barely made it out.”
Your hands still glowed faintly, and Natasha’s gaze drifted back to them. Her lips pressed into a thin line, like she was holding back a question. “And?” You raised a brow, knowing she wouldn’t let it slide.
A beat of silence passed before Natasha spoke again, her voice low. “And I’m wondering how much control you still have over that power.”
There it was—the elephant in the room. The Darkhold had started to leave its mark, changing you in ways even you didn’t fully understand. But the question hanging in the air wasn’t just about the mission. It was about the tension between you and Natasha, a tension that had been building for longer than you cared to admit.
You stood up, moving toward her with slow, deliberate steps. “I can control it when I need to.”
Natasha didn’t flinch as you approached, her gaze steady. But there was something else there now, beneath the surface—a curiosity that went beyond concern. “And when you don’t?” she murmured.
You were standing close now, the cold air swirling around you, but the heat between the two of you was undeniable. The soft sound of your breath filled the silence as you lifted your hand, watching the way Natasha’s breath hitched when your fingers hovered near her cheek. The magic wasn’t meant to feel like this—intimate, charged. It was dark, unpredictable, but when it was just the two of you, it felt like something else. Something almost seductive.
Natasha’s chest rose and fell a little faster, but her expression was unreadable. “You should rest,” she said finally, breaking the spell for a moment, stepping back just a fraction.
“I will,” you said.
Without waiting for permission, you reached out, cupping her chin gently between your fingers. Her skin was cold, but she didn’t pull away, her eyes fixed on yours as your blackened fingertips brushed along her jawline. There was an intensity in her gaze, a spark of something that told you she wasn’t as unaffected as she wanted you to believe.
You leaned in, voice barely above a whisper. “You trust me, don’t you?”
Natasha’s response came with a pause, as if surprised you even had to ask, but it was clear. “I do.”
You let the weight of her words settle for a moment before releasing her chin, stepping back. “Good. Because I’m going to need you to trust me a little more tonight.”
Her brows furrowed in the slightest way, but she didn’t ask any further questions. She simply nodded, watching you as you began preparing the small space for the night, making sure you had everything set in place. The chill in the air was oppressive, and without the option of fire, the only warmth you could find would have to be shared.
As the silence stretched between you, the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air. You could feel Natasha’s eyes on you again, her thoughts trailing in a direction neither of you had fully addressed yet. Something in her demeanour shifted, almost imperceptibly, but you caught it—the faintest flicker of something more than tension, more than concern.
You stood up, crossing the small space between you and Natasha. Her eyes followed your movements carefully, the tension between you palpable, the unsaid words swirling in the air like the winter chill outside.
“Strip,” you said simply, voice calm but firm, as if you were giving a casual order rather than a command.
Natasha blinked at you, her eyes widening slightly. For a split second, she looked genuinely taken aback, her brow furrowing in surprise. But then, just as quickly, her lips curled into a smirk, eyes narrowing with amusement. “Wow,” she teased, the playful glint in her eyes unmistakable. “You usually ask that in a much sweeter manner.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Leave it to Natasha to turn a serious moment into an opportunity for teasing. You crossed your arms, raising a brow at her as if to say, Really?
With a dramatic sigh, you played along, voice oozing with mock sincerity. “Oh, dearest Natasha, kindly remove that lovely head of yours from the gutter and take off your clothes,” you drawled, playfully sarcastic. “We’re going to cuddle for body warmth.”
Natasha’s smirk grew, a laugh escaping her as she shook her head. “Body warmth, huh?”
“That’s right,” you replied, keeping your expression straight. “I’m freezing, you’re freezing, and this room isn’t going to get any warmer on its own.”
Natasha didn’t argue, though the teasing glint never left her eyes. She hesitated for a moment longer, clearly savouring the small power she held by keeping you waiting. Then, slowly, she began to unzip her tactical gear, slipping out of the layers of fabric one by one.
Your eyes stayed on her the entire time, trying to maintain a neutral expression, but it was impossible not to feel the rising heat between you. Each movement she made was deliberate, almost calculated, as if she were drawing out the moment. She peeled off her jacket and tossed it aside, her lithe, toned arms finally free from the constraints of her gear.
You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to focus on the practicality of the situation, but it was difficult to ignore the effect she was having on you. Natasha knew what she was doing, and the fact that she didn’t rush made it worse—made it more intimate.
When she finally stood in just her undergarments, Natasha tilted her head, her lips still quirked in that infuriating smirk. “Better?”
“Almost,” you replied, gesturing for her to continue.
Natasha arched a brow but didn’t complain. With one last teasing glance, she slipped her hands behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Your breath caught for a moment, but you tried to keep your reaction under control. The tension between you was palpable now, both of you fully aware of what this moment could lead to, but also silently agreeing not to push it—yet.
As she finally rid herself of the last of her clothing, Natasha stood in front of you, bare and completely unbothered by the situation. She seemed to thrive on your attention, that mischievous glint still in her eye, as though daring you to take the next step.
You let out a small, satisfied hum and gave a playful shake of your head. “There we go. Much better.”
Natasha folded her arms over her chest, looking at you expectantly. “And what about you?”
You raised an eyebrow. “So eager, Romanoff.”
Natasha chuckled, clearly enjoying herself, but you weren’t about to let her take complete control of the moment. With a flick of your fingers, the magical tendrils from the Darkhold flickered to life, glowing just faintly enough to catch Natasha’s attention. She looked your now bare body up and down before she glanced down at your hands, her teasing grin fading ever so slightly, her gaze lingering on the blackened tips of your fingers.
You stepped closer, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from her body. “Lie down,” you instructed softly, your voice low but with just enough authority to remind her of the situation. “We’re keeping each other warm, remember?”
Natasha raised an eyebrow but complied, sinking onto the bare, cold wooden floor of the cabin. The slight chill in the air contrasted sharply with the warmth you both radiated, and the tension between you only seemed to intensify. You couldn’t deny the way your pulse quickened as you settled down beside her, the two of you fitting together perfectly in the small space.
As you lay down, Natasha nestled against your side, her head resting comfortably on your shoulder. The proximity sent a shiver down your spine, a blend of cold air and the heat radiating off her body. You draped an arm around her, pulling her closer as she shifted to find the perfect position.
“Is this warm enough?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, and you felt her smile against your skin.
“Maybe spooning would be better,” she replied, her tone teasing but laced with warmth.
Your fingers traced featherlight patterns along her side, grazing just beneath her breast, teasing but never fully touching. Each brush of your blackened fingertips left her shivering slightly, though not from the cold. You chuckled softly before turning on your side, urging Natasha to do the same.
You could feel it—how her pulse quickened beneath your hand, the subtle rise and fall of her chest betraying her attempts to maintain composure. The steady rhythm of her breathing was interspersed with small, sharp intakes, and you knew, despite her silence, that she was feeling every inch of you pressed against her.
Your lips grazed her neck again, a soft kiss lingering there just long enough to make her squirm slightly. "You're a little tense," you whispered, voice low and smooth, your breath warm against her skin.
Natasha let out a quiet hum, but it was clear she was biting back a response, the teasing dance between you reaching a breaking point. You felt the shift in her body—the way she subconsciously arched her back, pressing herself harder into you. She was holding on, keeping herself in check, but her body couldn’t lie.
You smirked against her neck. "I thought we were just keeping warm."
"We are," Natasha breathed, though the words came out softer than intended, her voice laced with a tension she was no longer hiding.
You let your hand drift lower, tracing the curve of her waist, your fingertips brushing just above her hipbone, teasing but not giving in to the desire thrumming between you. "Just warm enough?"
"Maybe a little more than warm," Natasha admitted, her tone finally breaking, betraying her carefully constructed facade.
You smiled, pressing akiss to her shoulder, and felt her body shudder beneath the light touch. "That's what I thought."
And just like that, you let the magic pulse faintly through your fingertips. It was gentle at first, a slow, humming energy that wound itself around Natasha, barely noticeable but unmistakable in the way her breath hitched, her body stiffening for just a moment.
You felt the shift in the air almost immediately, the familiar, dark energy surging within you. You didn’t need to speak for the magic to do your bidding—it understood you, knew you. With a subtle flick of your wrist, you felt the conjured presence materialise in the room, and you watched Natasha stiffen at the sound of the door creaking open.
Her wide eyes snapped to the doorway, her breath catching as she saw the silhouette standing there.
A perfect replica of you, standing in the shadows, watching the two of you on the cold hard floor.
Natasha sat up slightly, her wide eyes flicked back to you, then back to your clone, trying to make sense of the impossible situation. Her chest heaved as she breathed faster, confusion mingling with something far more dangerous. You could see it—how her body betrayed her. How the sheer wrongness of it, the shock, only added to the electric tension.
“Wha—” she started, her voice barely above a whisper.
You smiled and pulled her back down, pressing a soft kiss to the shell of her ear. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” you murmured. “She’s not here to hurt you.”
Natasha didn’t reply, her gaze glued to the clone standing ominously at the edge of the room. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, a soft, involuntary whimper escaping her lips. You heard it—the quiet sound she tried to suppress, and you felt it, too. The way her hips pressed down harder onto your thigh, her body reacting instinctively to the overwhelming mix of shame and arousal coursing through her veins. You seized the moment of her confusion, letting your fingers slip down to collect the slickness that had begun pooling between her folds.
Your smirk widened. “You’re fine,” you soothed, though the heat in your voice told a different story. “She’ll do whatever I say, Natasha. Whatever I want.”
As if to prove a point, you brought your fingers—blackened and wet from Natasha’s arousal—up to her lips. Her eyes flicked to your hand, and another soft whimper escaped her, louder this time. The sight of her own slickness glistening on your fingers was too much for her to hide behind that carefully built exterior. She parted her lips, breath shaky, as you hovered your fingers in front of her mouth.
“Look at how wet you are,” you whispered, your voice low and teasing. “You see that?”
Natasha's gaze remained fixed on your fingers, her lips trembling as she nodded, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and desire. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight of herself on you. You let her watch for a moment longer before slowly slipping one finger between her parted lips, pressing it against her tongue. Natasha’s eyes fluttered closed, a soft, muffled moan escaping her as she tasted herself on your skin.
“Good girl,” you purred, withdrawing your finger slowly, tracing it along her bottom lip. The tension in the room was thick now, Natasha’s breathing shallow, her body writhing slightly in your grasp, torn between the embarrassment of the clone’s presence and the growing arousal she couldn’t ignore.
You turned your attention back to the clone, watching the way it stood perfectly still, awaiting your command. The dark magic swirled within it, just as it did within you, and the power surged through your veins, intoxicating. You could feel the pull, the desire to let it go, to let the clone take what it wanted from Natasha—but not yet.
You had to keep control. For now.
You leaned down, your lips brushing against Natasha’s ear once more. “She’ll be rougher with you,” you murmured, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. “But she won’t do anything I don’t allow. You understand?”
Natasha’s breath hitched again, her hips grinding back against you, and she nodded quickly, her body trembling with anticipation. She was barely holding on, the shame and desire mixing in her veins, making her weak.
“Good,” you whispered, pulling her tighter against you. Without waiting for her response, you slid your fingers back into her mouth, the warmth enveloping them as her lips wrapped around you instinctively. You could feel her tongue swirl around your fingers, soft and eager, heightening the sensations that danced along your skin. Each suck sent a thrill coursing through you, a delicious reminder of the effect you had on her.
“Just like that, Natasha,” you encouraged, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with desire. You revelled in the sight of her losing herself in the moment, her eyes fluttering closed, surrendering fully to the sensations swirling around her. The taste of her slickness mingled with the heat radiating from your body, intoxicating her further.
Her muffled moans vibrated against your fingers, sending ripples of pleasure through your entire being. You could feel your own arousal growing, tightening low in your belly as you marvelled at how completely and utterly she surrendered to you. “God, you’re so beautiful,” you breathed, entranced by her wordless response. You moved your fingers in and out of her mouth, slow and deliberate, enjoying the way she lost herself in the rhythm, the way her body reacted to each gentle thrust.
As the moment intensified, you felt Natasha’s hips begin to shift once more, slowly grinding against your thigh with growing urgency. The slickness coating your leg increased, a stark contrast to the warmth emanating from her body. The sensation of her arousal against your skin sent a jolt of heat coursing through you, every soft stroke of her body igniting a deeper hunger within you.
With each deliberate grind, she coated your thigh in even more of her slickness, her movements becoming more urgent, more desperate, as she sought that delicious friction. You could feel the way her body responded instinctively to the sensation, the wetness contrasting against your skin, fueling your desire. She was overwhelmed, and the thought of her being so turned on by you sent a rush of pride surging through your veins.
“Sweetheart, we want to feel you,” you murmured, her breath hitching slightly, the words spilling from your lips before you could stop them.
Natasha’s movements faltered, confusion flickering across her features as she turned her head slightly to meet your gaze, still gently sucking on your fingers. Your eyes weren’t on her anymore, though, so she looked in front of her again to see what you saw.
Her breath hitched, eyes widening in shock, her body momentarily frozen in place. Your clone had begun to strip, slowly peeling away the layers of clothing that concealed its form, and Natasha's lips parted around your fingers as her attention shifted.
The clone’s body was just as enticing as yours, perhaps even more so in this moment, and as it unveiled itself, Natasha caught a glimpse of the clone’s member. The sheer size and girth of the clone’s cock was enough to drive her wild; it embodied everything she’d ever confessed she wanted in a strap. Just the sight of it sent a wave of sinful excitement rippling through her veins.
“Don’t worry, she won’t hurt you,” you reassured her, your voice low and steady as you observed the way her body reacted to the sight before her. You could feel the tension in her frame, a mixture of excitement and fear swirling within her, and you needed to bridge that gap, to show her just how pleasurable this could be.
With a gentle nudge, you turned on your back, taking Natasha with you, her back still pressed against your chest. The warmth of her skin felt heavenly against the cool air, and you revelled in the sensation of her weight settling atop you. The new position was intimate, your heart racing as you held her tightly, feeling her soft curves against your body.
The clone approached, its smirk growing wider as it took in the scene—Natasha on top of you, her cheeks flushed with desire. Natasha whimpered softly, overwhelmed by the sensory overload coursing through her, the heat of your bodies mingling as she tried to process everything happening around her.
“Relax, baby,” you whispered soothingly, caressing her sides. But before you could soothe her further, your clone roughly grabbed Natasha by the hair, a predatory glint in its eyes. Natasha gasped, her body instinctively responding to the sensation, and you could see the flicker of excitement igniting in her expression.
“Sit up on her abs,” the clone commanded, pulling Natasha to her knees just by her hair. With a mix of force and eagerness, it manhandled her, guiding her to straddle your stomach, manoeuvring her into position, and you could feel her core flush against your skin, slick and warm. Your breath quickened as you felt the wetness gush out of her, soaking onto your abs, a testament to her desire.
Your hands instinctively found their place on her hips, fingers digging in slightly as you helped guide her movements. You urged her to grind softly against you again, teasingly coaxing her to move without overwhelming her just yet. The sensation of her slickness against your stomach sent a jolt of heat through you, and you bit your lip, relishing the connection between you.
“Just like that, Natasha,” you murmured, your voice thick with desire as you watched her react to your touch. “Just let us take care of you.”
Your clone stepped closer, positioning itself just in front of the two of you, its gaze locked onto Natasha with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. “Open your mouth, sweetheart,” it instructed, its voice low and commanding. Natasha’s eyes widened, a blend of excitement and trepidation flickering across her features as she tried to look from you to your clone, only partially completing that mission.
Feeling your encouraging nod, she leaned forward, her heart racing as she obeyed, parting her lips to take the clone's cock into her mouth. The moment she wrapped her lips around it, the pleasure coursing through her was electric. Your clone telepathically showed you its view, and you could see the way her eyes fluttered, pure bliss washing over her as she began to suck, her cheeks hollowing out around the girth of your clone.
As you held her hips, guiding her gentle grinding on your abs, you felt the wetness spreading even more beneath her, a glorious reminder of how deeply she actually craved this. The sensations intensified, each movement sending waves of pleasure rippling through you both. Natasha moaned around the clone’s cock, the sound vibrating through her body and making her grind even harder against you.
“Good girl,” you praised softly, the words slipping from your lips with a hint of authority. You loved watching her surrender to the pleasure, losing herself in the rhythm of the moment. Your clone took control, urging Natasha to take it deeper, the mix of pleasure and power sending her further into ecstasy.
The tension in the air was palpable as you continued to hold her hips, guiding her movements.
The clone’s grip on Natasha tightened, a possessive hold that sent a thrill of excitement coursing through her as it guided her movements. With each thrust of its hips, it began to push deeper into her mouth, testing her limits, and Natasha instinctively bobbed her head, desperate to please.
“Just like that, Natasha,” you encouraged, watching her struggle to take more of the clone inside her mouth. “You’re doing so good.”
But as the clone felt her lips tighten around its length, the sensation sent it over the edge, losing its controlled demeanour. It thrust forward more forcefully, practically using Natasha’s mouth as a fleshlight, taking what it wanted with reckless abandon. Groans and moans spilled from its lips, the sound almost identical to your own, echoing in the air and driving Natasha wild with desire. Each noise was like a siren call, resonating deep within her as she tried to keep up with the overwhelming sensations.
Tears were streaming down her cheeks, a reflection to the intensity of the pleasure and the stretch of her mouth. She could feel drool pooling at the corners of her lips, mixed with the clone’s precum, and she couldn’t help but lose herself completely in the moment. The skin of her cheeks flushed a deeper shade as the clone's rhythm became more frantic, the wet sounds of its thrusts echoing through the room.
Natasha’s eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the experience, but the moment she felt the clone’s hands tighten in her hair, she forced her gaze to meet its own. You could see the haze of pleasure in her eyes, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she struggled to take more of the clone inside her.
The clone, clearly intoxicated by the sight of Natasha's beautiful struggle, leaned down closer, its voice dripping with desire. “Look at her,” it groaned, the words laced with a primal edge. “She’s such a mess for me, for us.”
Suddenly, the clone transmitted its sensations directly to your body, filling your senses with the exquisite feeling of Natasha as she fought to accommodate its girth. You could feel her lips stretched impossibly around it, her cheeks hollowed out as she desperately tried to swallow every inch. Drool dripped from her mouth, pooling at her chin and sliding down to her neck, adding to the deliciously lewd scene.
The way her body responded was intoxicating—her back arched, and her hips instinctively rocked as if trying to grind against the phantom sensations. Each thrust from the clone pushed her closer to the edge, her moans vibrating against its shaft, heightening the intensity of everything they were experiencing together.
“Good job, princess,” you urged, the words slipping from your lips as you watched her struggle to breathe, more tears spilling down her cheeks, a beautiful mess of arousal and submission. “Take it all. You know you want to.”
The clone took full advantage of Natasha’s compliance, pounding into her mouth relentlessly, using her like an obedient plaything. It thrust harder, deeper, and with each movement, it pulled more of those delightful sounds from her, the groans and whimpers blending into a symphony of desire that echoed in the room.
Natasha could feel the world around her fade away, the only thing that mattered was the feeling of the clone’s thick shaft stretching her mouth and the dizzying pleasure building within her. She was drowning in the sensations, and it only fueled her need for more.
Every thrust sent waves of ecstasy crashing through her, each moment causing her to lose herself further in the pleasure that enveloped her. With every droplet of precum and every tear that fell, she surrendered to the overwhelming waves of sensation, her body responding instinctively to the relentless rhythm, succumbing to the sweet torment of being used by your clone.
Taking advantage of Natasha's overwhelmed state, you conjured the strap you knew she loved, your magic weaving it into existence with a soft, glowing green hue that danced around it like an ethereal mist. The length was impressive, longer yet less thick than the clone’s member, designed to fit comfortably alongside it when the moment was right. As the strap settled between Natasha’s thighs, the shimmering aura reflected the powers at play, accentuating the beautiful contrast against her flushed skin.
Natasha was lost in the rhythm of her own pleasure, unaware of the strap that now stood ready for her. She continued to grind down mindlessly on your lower belly, seeking any semblance of friction that would drive her closer to the edge. But then, as her movements became more frantic, the strap made contact with her clit. The sudden sensation sent shockwaves through her, and she gagged on the clone’s cock, her eyes widening in realisation as the fullness in her mouth deepened.
She tried to cry out, to convey just how much she needed you—how desperately she craved both of you—but the thick cock filling her throat and the clone’s relentless thrusts silenced her words, reducing them to muffled gurgles. Even so, you could sense her urgency; the way her body quivered beneath the weight of ecstasy.
As if drawn to her need, your hands wandered from her hips to her breasts, feeling the softness of her skin under your fingers. You couldn’t resist the way her body responded, the way she arched into your touch. Slowly, you sat up a little, your abs flexing beneath her as you moved, the strap now pressing firmly against her folds. The sensation jolted Natasha, drawing a cry from her lips that vibrated around your clone’s cock, sending a thrill through both of you.
A rush of wetness spilled out of her, coating the strap with her slickness, and you revelled in the sight. “You like that, don’t you?” you whispered, your breath hot against her ear as you captured her attention. “Feeling both of us, giving in to every need?”
Natasha’s eyes fluttered, her body shaking with desire as she nodded, the overwhelming sensations bringing her closer to the precipice. She was a beautiful mess, lost in the throes of passion and desperation. Your fingers traced over her breasts, squeezing gently as her whimpers filled the air, the sound mingling with the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin.
With each thrust of the clone’s hips, the strap nudged against Natasha's clit, intensifying the pleasure radiating to her core. It felt like a dance, a symphony of sensations that only heightened the tension building between the three of you. The clone, sensing Natasha’s turmoil, began to thrust harder, forcing her deeper onto its cock, and you leaned in closer, brushing your lips against her shoulder.
“Just let go, Natasha,” you urged softly, your voice low and coaxing. “Let us take care of you.”
Natasha’s body responded instinctively, bucking against the strap as she chased the spiralling pleasure that engulfed her. “Please... I need...” Her words were drowned in another moan as the clone pulled her hair, holding her in place, and she could do nothing but submit to the sensations overtaking her.
Your strap shifted again, rubbing against her swollen clit, and the fire ignited inside her. The combination of the clone’s relentless thrusts and the way the strap stimulated her sent her spiralling closer to bliss. The pressure built, coiling tightly in her core, and you could feel the tension radiating off her body, signalling that she was on the verge of an explosive release.
“Come for me, Natasha,” you whispered, your fingers moving to her hips to guide her. “You’re so close. Just let go for us.”
And in that moment, Natasha succumbed to the tidal wave of pleasure, her cries muffled but filled with undeniable passion. The sound of her release echoed through the air, drowning in the intensity of the sensations and the overwhelming connection that bound you all together.
The moment Natasha succumbed to the overwhelming sensations, it was as if time itself froze. A wave of euphoria washed over her, igniting every nerve ending as her body tensed, spiralling into pure bliss. Her mouth was still filled with the clone’s cock, and the muffled cries of ecstasy vibrated against it, sending shivers through both you and the clone. The strap pressed firmly against her clit, rubbing against the sensitive flesh as her body writhed in pleasure, sending surges of warmth cascading through her.
As her orgasm took hold, her vision blurred, and the world around her faded into a haze of colour and sensation. She felt every touch, every thrust, amplifying the heat coiling tightly in her core. The slickness between her legs only intensified, soaking the strap and pooling around it as she bucked against it, lost in a sea of pure ecstasy. A guttural moan escaped her lips, and tears of pleasure streamed down her cheeks, a testament to the intensity of her release.
With each wave of her climax, Natasha felt her body convulsing, as if it were trying to escape the sheer delight enveloping her. The clone, sensing the height of her pleasure, pushed deeper into her throat, its rhythm becoming frantic, mirroring Natasha's mounting need. Her heart raced as the pleasure began to ebb, leaving her breathless and dazed.
But just as she began to float down from that euphoric high, the clone grew increasingly frustrated. As your clone pulled Natasha away from its throbbing length, it was clear that it demanded her undivided attention. The instant Natasha’s mouth was freed from your clone, she gasped for breath, her lips swollen and glistening with a mix of drool and precum. The clone's frustration surged, and with a firm grip on her hips, it manhandled her upwards, lifting her off its cock and positioning her directly over yours.
“Now, take this,” it commanded, pushing Natasha downwards as she lowered herself onto your strap, the length filling her completely in one fluid motion. The sensation was exhilarating, and Natasha let out a startled cry as she felt the entirety of you stretch her. The pressure was overwhelming, pushing her right to the edge, and she could do nothing but submit to the feeling.
You watched in awe as Natasha’s body enveloped you fully, her walls clenching around the strap, creating a delicious friction that sent jolts of pleasure coursing through both of you. She gasped again, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and delight as she felt the cold silicone filling her warm depths.
“God, you’re so tight,” you breathed, your hands instinctively finding her waist once more, guiding her movements as she adjusted to the feeling of being filled completely.
Your clone smirked, taking a step back to admire the sight before it. Natasha’s back was arched, her face flushed, and her breaths were coming in quick gasps as she savoured the sensation of being impaled on your strap. It was a sight that drove both of you wild.
“Ride Mommy,” the clone urged, voice low and sultry. It revelled in the power dynamics, knowing Natasha was entirely at the mercy of both you and your clone.
As if compelled by the command, Natasha began to lift herself slightly, feeling the strap sliding in and out, her slickness coating the length of you. But just as she began to find her rhythm, the clone leaned in closer, grasping her hair and pulling her head back gently to expose her neck, its breath hot against her ear.
“Now, let’s see how much you can really take,” it whispered, urging Natasha to push herself further.
With a sudden, assertive movement, your clone guided Natasha downwards harder, forcing her to take the entire length of the strap again. The sensation was overwhelming, and Natasha’s breath hitched as she felt the fullness stretch her further. It took everything in her to hold back a scream, the sheer pleasure coursing through her body making her skin tingle.
You felt her body shudder above you, the warmth and slickness surrounding you creating an intoxicating blend of sensations. “That’s it, Nat,” you encouraged, your hands tightening on her waist as you helped her find the perfect angle to ride you. “Just like that.”
But your clone wasn’t done yet. With each upward thrust of Natasha’s hips, it took advantage of her momentary distraction, pushing her back down harder on your strap, driving the full length into her in a way that left her breathless. She felt utterly consumed, every thrust sending waves of pleasure radiating through her, igniting the spark of ecstasy within her core.
“Feel how good you are for us,” the clone said, watching with pleasure as Natasha began to lose herself to the sensations. Her body moved in perfect rhythm, each thrust pushing her closer to the precipice of bliss.
“Please,” Natasha gasped, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, but you both knew exactly what she meant. She craved more. More friction. More pleasure. More of both of you.
The clone, clearly impatient with the slow –but hard– pace, decided it was time to take charge. With a firm grip on Natasha’s hair, it yanked her off your strap, forcing her to gasp in surprise as she was pulled away. The sudden shift made her body tremble with anticipation, and before she could fully register what was happening, the clone manoeuvred her back onto you, repositioning her like before.
Natasha’s back pressed against your soft breasts, the warmth of your body enveloping her as she nestled into them, feeling safe yet overwhelmed by the sensations that coursed through her. The strap remained nestled between her thighs, brushing against her sensitive skin, an enticing reminder of the pleasure still to come.
As your clone positioned itself in front of Natasha, ready to enter her, the anticipation hung thick in the air. The moment Natasha felt the clone’s girth pressing against her entrance, a shiver shot through her spine. The sensation was so familiar yet different—she knew this wasn’t your strap; it was something else entirely, and the knowledge sent a thrill through her.
“Just relax,” your clone purred, voice low and sultry. With that, it pushed forward, filling Natasha in one powerful thrust. The feeling was unlike anything she had experienced before; the clone was thicker, hotter, and it stretched her in ways that made her see stars.
Natasha’s head dropped back against your shoulder, her breath hitching in her throat as the wave of sensation crashed over her. She turned her face into your neck, muffling her cries against your skin, the sound lost in the warmth of your embrace.
Your hand instinctively found its way to her breasts again, fingers teasingly groping them while your other hand roamed down to her stomach, tracing the soft contours of her body. You could feel every muscle quiver under your touch, the tension radiating from her as the clone began to establish a rhythm.
With each thrust, your clone buried itself deeper inside Natasha, pushing her tightly against you. The contrast of sensations was intoxicating—your warmth wrapping around her like a cocoon, while the clone filled her completely, driving her wild. Natasha squirmed beneath the onslaught, desperately trying to control her feelings, but it was proving impossible.
As the clone picked up the pace, Natasha instinctively leaned further into you, her body grinding against yours as she sought more friction. You could feel her slickness coating your strap and stomach, mixing with the clone’s thrusts, creating a delicious mess.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” you whispered, unable to resist leaning down to kiss her temple. Each kiss you left only fueled her desire further, and Natasha responded by sucking hickeys into your neck, desperately trying to stifle her moans with your flesh.
Your clone’s grip on her hips tightened, its movements becoming rougher and more demanding, forcing Natasha to take every inch. She could hardly think, lost in the haze of pleasure, her mind swirling with the feeling of being so thoroughly filled. Each thrust hit the perfect spot, igniting sparks of ecstasy deep within her core.
“Don’t hold back,” you encouraged, your voice a soft murmur as you cupped her breasts, fingers teasing her nipples. “Let it all go.”
With each thrust of the clone, Natasha felt herself teetering on the edge, the world around her fading once more as her body succumbed to the pleasure. It was a symphony of sensations—your warmth, the clone’s depth, and the exhilaration of knowing she was being completely claimed in this moment.
“Please,” she gasped, words spilling from her lips like a prayer, “I need… I need you both.”
The clone only responded with a growl, driving harder into her as it relished the power of the moment. The sound echoed in her ears, blending with your soft coos of encouragement, pulling her closer to that sweet release she so desperately craved.
Natasha surrendered herself to the waves of pleasure washing over her, the tension building to an almost unbearable point. With every thrust, every touch, she felt herself spiralling closer to the brink, her body singing with need.
As the clone drove deeper into Natasha, the sensations began to overwhelm her. Each thrust was met with a delicious ache, pushing her closer to the edge of pleasure. Natasha felt herself slipping away, her mind clouding with bliss as the clone’s relentless rhythm ignited a fire within her core. The world around her had faded, leaving only the pulsating waves of ecstasy crashing over her like a tide, almost dumbifying her senses.
“Please… I can’t… too much,” she whined, her voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of desperation. The overwhelming pleasure pulled her further into subspace, each thrust sending her tumbling deeper, her breath hitching with every movement.
In that moment, you focused your energy, telepathically communicating with your clone. Slow down, you urged, your voice echoing in the shared space of your minds. Let me join you.
Your clone smirked mischievously, the glimmer in its eyes matching the wickedness of its intentions. Just as it heard Natasha’s whimper, “Daddy, too much. Slower, please,” the tension in the air thickened with anticipation.
You and your clone exchanged knowing smirks, an understanding passing between you both. With a gentle yet firm touch, you began to circle Natasha’s sensitive clit with your fingers, a silent promise that you would fill her too in just a few moments. Natasha’s body responded, her cries turning into soft sobs, “Mommy, please. Need you, need you and Daddy in me, please fill me.”
With those words, the clone manoeuvred your strap to Natasha’s entrance, the one already filled with its girth. Slowly, it pressed the strap alongside its own cock, teasingly close yet not fully joining the two.
To your surprise, the moment your strap touched Natasha’s sensitive entrance, you felt everything as if it was a part of you, like the two were connected through some magical bond. You couldn't tell if it was your imagination or if your powers were taking over, but the sensation was dizzying, a mix of pleasure and overwhelming intimacy. It was something you’d have to figure out later, but right now, the sight before you demanded your attention.
Natasha’s pleading pulled you from your thoughts, her hand coming up to grasp the side of your face, her gaze desperate and filled with need. Her face remained buried in your neck, wet kisses and drool spilling from her mouth as she surrendered completely.
With a steadying breath, you slowly pushed into her, feeling the strap glide against the slickness of her folds and your clone’s shaft. Natasha whined and choked on her cries, hearing your voice twice, a beautiful harmony that reverberated through her. As your strap joined the clone’s cock nestled deep inside her, she gasped, her body quaking with the overwhelming fullness.
“God, you feel so good,” you groaned, your voice a breathy whisper as you watched her face contort with pleasure, the sight of her blissful expression driving you wild. The twin sensations of being filled by both you and your clone sent Natasha soaring to new heights, her body arching as waves of ecstasy rolled through her.
With each thrust, you felt the connection strengthen, your movements harmonising with the clone’s, creating a rhythm that left Natasha breathless and begging for more. The way she clenched around you was intoxicating, a visceral reminder of the connection you all shared.
“Just like that, baby,” you coaxed, fingers still teasing her clit, amplifying her pleasure with each calculated stroke. Natasha’s cries filled the air, a melody of need and desire, each sound sending shivers down your spine.
As you sank deeper into her, pushing your hips up as much as you could, your breath mingling with hers, you knew you were entering a new level of intimacy, a space where pleasure and connection intertwined beautifully. And as Natasha’s body began to tighten around you both, you could feel her on the verge of yet another climax, her mind and body succumbing to the overwhelming sensations you and your clone were creating together.
The clone’s restraint began to wane as it felt the intoxicating pull of pleasure surging through both you and Natasha. With each thrust, it pounded harder, pushing Natasha deeper into you, driving her body against yours. You flexed all your muscles beneath her, amplifying every sensation, forcing her to feel everything.
Natasha cried out, the sound a beautiful mix of ecstasy and desperation. “Please, please, don’t stop!” she begged, her voice raw with need as she writhed against you, lost in the tidal wave of pleasure. The way her body moved, the slickness coating your abs and thighs, only heightened your desire, turning your focus solely on her.
The strap nestled inside her, pressing snugly against her walls, the sensation of fullness overwhelming her senses. The clone continued to thrust, each movement sending jolts of pleasure rippling through Natasha’s body, amplifying the exquisite sensation of being filled by the two you’s.
“Just let go, baby,” you encouraged, your voice low and filled with desire. “Mommy’s right here with you.”
As the clone lost its last shred of control, it began to pound into her relentlessly. Natasha’s back arched, and she gasped, her head pressing against your shoulder as the force of the thrusts sent waves of pleasure crashing through her body. The rhythm turned chaotic, the clone’s hips snapping forward with a desperate urgency, and you felt every thrust radiate through you.
“Fuck!” you gasped, the intensity of her cries echoing in your ears, every sound driving you further into your own desire.
With a sob that echoed through the room, Natasha felt the pressure building to an unbearable level. The clone’s relentless pace pushed her toward the edge, but as she neared her peak, she suddenly found herself overwhelmed, lost in the sensations coursing through her. “Oh my god!” she cried, the sound almost a plea as her body quaked with pleasure.
As both of you reached the brink of ecstasy, the clone began to slow down, savouring the moment, prolonging the exquisite tension building between you. The pace became almost maddeningly slow, each thrust deliberate, dragging Natasha closer to the precipice of another orgasm.
“Please… don’t stop,” she whimpered, her voice thick with desperation. “I need—”
But before she could finish, another wave of pleasure crashed over her, sending her spiralling into bliss. The feeling of fullness, the dual sensations of the clone's cock and your strap filling her up, made everything burst into a kaleidoscope of sensations.
“God, Natasha!” you groaned, your body responding to her release, every muscle tightening as she surrendered to the overwhelming wave of ecstasy.
And in that moment, the clone and you both felt it more than ever—the twin sensations of Natasha’s body clenching around you as she rode the wave of her climax, your own pleasure coiling tightly within you before spilling over. The moan that escaped your lips mixed with hers, creating a symphony of raw desire.
In those final moments, as Natasha's cries of pleasure echoed through the room, the world outside faded away, leaving only the intoxicating haze of fulfilment that enveloped you. As the waves of ecstasy subsided, Natasha's body trembled with residual pleasure, but you could feel an insatiable need bubbling up within you. You wanted more. You wanted to see her face—truly see her, not just through the lens of the clone's shared images.
With a sudden surge of energy, you gripped Natasha's waist, pulling her up and spinning her around, determined to make her face you. The clone smirked, still behind her, watching with a mix of amusement and eagerness. Natasha gasped as you manhandled her, positioning her so that she straddled your lap, her thighs encasing you as you held her steady.
“Now you look at me, Natasha,” you breathed, your gaze locking onto hers. Her eyes were wide, still glazed from pleasure, yet there was an unmistakable spark of desire flickering within them. “Mommy needs to see you.”
“God, you’re breathtaking,” you murmured, your hands roaming up to cup her face, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. The contrast between her warmth and the still chilly air heightened your senses even more. You could see the remnants of tears glistening in her eyes, a reflection of the pleasure she had just experienced.
Your clone wasted no time in positioning itself behind her, its cock pressing against her slick folds already filled with your strap, teasing her with the promise of complete fullness. “Ready?” it asked, its voice deep and laced with mischief.
Natasha nodded, her breath hitching in her throat as she took in the sight of you—her gaze flickering from your eyes to the clone behind her. “Please,” she begged, her voice a desperate whisper, as if the simple word contained all her longing.
With a swift thrust, the clone buried itself deep within her, and Natasha cried out, the sound reverberating through you both. Her body instinctively bucked, arching toward you while her hands gripped your shoulders for support. You held her close, watching the way her face twisted with pleasure, a sight that fueled your desire even further.
“Come on, princess,” you encouraged, your fingers trailing down to her hips, guiding her movements as you urged her to ride you, feeling the sensation of her warmth enveloping you. “Show us how much you want it.”
The clone’s hands gripped Natasha's waist, pushing her back and forth, allowing her to feel the exquisite pressure building between them. As she began to ride, you could see the conflict between pleasure and control etched on her face—a mix of vulnerability and power as she took charge.
“Look at you,” you praised, your voice low and sultry. “You’re so beautiful like this.”
Natasha's body moved with a fervour that left you breathless, her gaze locked onto yours as she rode you with reckless abandon. The pressure of the clone behind her only heightened the sensations as it thrust into her, filling the same heated space while you filled her from the front. She was caught in a delicious dance, both of you driving her closer to the edge.
“More,” she gasped, her voice trembling with the intensity of it all. “I need more!”
You could see the way her body shuddered, the pleasure coursing through her as the clone thrust deeper, driving her wild. “What exactly do you want from Daddy, baby?” you teased, your tone sultry as your hands roamed down her body, cupping her breasts and revelling in the softness of her skin.
With a breathy whimper, Natasha looked at you, her eyes glazed and wide with need. “I… I want you both,” she pleaded, but there was something deeper in her request. “I want Daddy to take me… in my ass.”
The words hung in the air, shocking both you and the clone into silence. The sheer boldness of her request sent a thrill through you, but uncertainty quickly followed. You glanced at the clone, who mirrored your surprise, its eyes reflecting the same mix of excitement and concern.
“Are you sure, sweetheart?” you both asked in unison, your voices blending together, creating a curious harmony in the heat of the moment.
Natasha's breaths were rapid, her body trembling with a mix of desire and need. “I need it,” she whimpered, tears brimming in her eyes as she looked down at you. “I need to— Please. I need… Stretch.”
The vulnerability in her tone, paired with the overwhelming look of desperation in her eyes, left you both at a loss for words. You could see how deeply she had sunk into subspace, her mind fogged with pleasure, making her almost dizzy with the intensity of it all.
“Okay, baby,” you said softly, brushing a stray hair from her face. “But only if you really want it. We’ll take care of you, I promise.”
The clone nodded in agreement, its cock still nestled deep inside her, teasing her as it awaited your cue. Natasha nodded vigorously, her body arching back against the clone, urging it to fill her.
“Please,” she cried, a sob of need escaping her lips. “I need to feel you both—stretch me, Daddy.”
You felt a rush of heat at the word, your heart racing as you shared a knowing look with the clone.
“Alright,” you murmured, your voice steady. “Just breathe through it, okay? We’re right here with you.”
With that reassurance, the clone repositioned itself, the head of its cock teasing Natasha’s tight entrance. You could feel the tension in her body, the way she braced herself for what was to come. Natasha was so far gone, her thoughts jumbled, the edges of reality blurring as she focused on the sensations overwhelming her senses.
As the clone began to push in, you watched Natasha’s eyes widen, her breath hitching as she adjusted to the sensation. “Relax, baby,” you urged, your hands smoothing over her arms, guiding her through the intensity of the moment.
The clone pushed deeper, inching into her until you could see her body quiver, her moans mixing with gasps of pain and discomfort. “You’ve got it, just breathe,” you encouraged. “You’re doing so well.”
Natasha’s head dropped down against your forehead, a soft whimper escaping her lips as she adjusted to the fullness. Her body trembled, the combination of sensations sending her whirling into bliss. “More,” she begged, her voice laced with desperation. “Please, move!”
With every thrust, your clone filled her, pushing her deeper into the realms of pleasure she had yet to explore. You could feel her body clenching around both of you, her walls tightening with each movement, and it was intoxicating.
“Look at you,” you praised, your fingers brushing against her cheeks, feeling the warmth radiating from her flushed skin. “So beautiful and full.”
Just as you coaxed her to ride you harder, Natasha cried out, her body shuddering as another orgasm washed over her, sending shockwaves through her entire being. She convulsed against you, her cries muffled against your shoulder as her body surged with pleasure, and she felt blissfully alive, even as she hovered on the brink of exhaustion.
“Mommy!” she cried, her voice raw and pleading. “More. Please don’t stop!”
You exchanged a glance with the clone, both of you grinning at the sheer intensity of it all. Natasha was lost in her own world of pleasure, her mind tangled in the blissful haze that engulfed her.
“Okay, baby. You’re such a good girl for Mommy” you whispered, kissing her softly on the neck as the clone continued its steady rhythm, pushing her deeper into the realm of ecstasy.
“Just hold on, Natty. We’re going to take you higher,” you promised.
As Natasha continued to ride you, her movements became more frantic, each upward thrust heightening her arousal. The sensations overwhelmed her, and as she felt the clone still thrusting deep within her from behind, she teetered on the edge of yet another orgasm. The waves of pleasure coiled tightly in her core, and she gasped, “I’m so close!”
“Let it happen, Natty. Just let go. You don’t have to ask or warn Mommy,” you urged, your voice barely a whisper, yet firm with encouragement.
With a final thrust from the clone, the tension snapped. Natasha’s body erupted in a symphony of pleasure, her cries mingling with the gasps of ecstasy that poured from her lips. She squirted slightly, the sensation washing over her, making her see stars. The feelings were almost too much as she shuddered on top of you, riding out the waves of her orgasm.
“Mommy! Please!” she whimpered, her body trembling as she struggled to stay upright, lost in the aftermath of her climax. “I need more!”
The urgency in her voice spurred you on, and without hesitation, you adjusted your grip around her waist and lifted her effortlessly, standing up until you were carrying her in your arms. Natasha clung to you, her legs wrapping tightly around your waist, the strap still nestled snugly inside her, making her feel filled and deliciously full.
“Hold on, baby,” you instructed playfully, feeling her breath hitch in excitement as you positioned her. The clone shifted behind her, hands gripping her hips as it prepared to take her again.
With a firm thrust, the clone began to pound into her ass once more, each one sending waves of pleasure coursing through the redhead. The dual sensations were almost overwhelming as she felt both of you moving together again, the rhythm sending her spiralling deeper into euphoria. The pressure built inside her, and Natasha found herself gasping, her moans mingling with whimpers of delight as she surrendered completely to the sensations enveloping her.
The new position intensified everything. You felt every flex of her muscles against you, the sensation of her warmth surrounding you heightening the intimacy. The clone’s thrusts were deep and relentless, driving her further into a haze of pleasure, each stroke hitting a spot that made her cry out breathlessly.
Natasha’s body responded instinctively, her back arching as the clone continued to thrust into her. You could feel the rhythm of both of you, creating a symphony of pleasure that drowned out any rational thought. The overwhelming sensations flooded her senses, and she felt herself teetering on the brink of something beautifully intense.
“Да...да...please...” she babbled, her words tumbling out in a mixture of Russian and English, barely coherent as the pleasure swelled within her. Each thrust sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through her, the dual penetration pushing her deeper into a euphoric state where everything else faded away.
As she surrendered completely, her moans morphed into gasps, and you could feel her heartbeat quickening, the desperation in her voice reflecting the sheer intensity of what she was experiencing. The world around her blurred, and she felt as if she was floating, the sensations spiralling into a blissful abyss where nothing else mattered—only the exquisite connection between the three, the two of you.
With each thrust, the boundaries of pleasure expanded, and Natasha found herself lost in the rhythm, her body trembling as she embraced the overwhelming waves that threatened to pull her under completely.
“Just like that,” you encouraged, your voice thick with lust as you watched her expression shift from blissful concentration to pure ecstasy.
Natasha could feel the heat radiating from both of you, and as the clone thrust deeper into her, she could hardly contain herself. The movements became more frantic, and you could see her losing control, the familiar warmth pooling in her belly as the tension coiled tighter and tighter.
As the clone’s thrusts grew more intense, Natasha couldn’t hold back any longer. She cried out, her body shaking as her second orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave. The climax ignited her senses, sending her plummeting into oblivion. She squirted again, this time with an intensity that shocked you, the warmth cascading from her, soaking the ground beneath you as she lost herself completely. The sensations enveloped her entirely, pushing her to the brink of consciousness as pleasure consumed her.
“Oй! Боже мой [Oh! Oh my God]!” Natasha wailed, her voice a desperate blend of ecstasy and disbelief as she clung to you with a death grip, burying her face in your neck. Each powerful thrust from the clone behind her sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body, igniting a fire that burned deep within her core. “Я не могу! [I can’t take it!]” she gasped, her words tumbling out in a frenzied mix as her mind began to unravel.
The stretch of being filled by both you and the clone left her breathless, every thrust pushing her further into euphoria.
“Наполните меня! [Fill me!]” she begged, her voice trembling with desperation, matching the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat. Her begs turned into screams, the feeling of both of you surrounding her senses, every nerve ending alight with pleasure as she felt the clone’s thickness coat her walls. “Fill me! Fill me more!”
As the clone withdrew, leaving her gaping and desperate, it suddenly plunged back into her pussy with an intensity that made her scream. The sheer fullness was intoxicating, driving her wild. You felt the clone’s cock throbbing against the strap again, its thickness coating her walls with each thrust. Natasha’s cries vibrated against your skin, breath warm and shaky as she surrendered completely to the sensations enveloping her.
The clone’s movements became frantic, and Natasha’s body responded eagerly, waves of ecstasy crashing over her as it filled her with its seed. “Oh, боже, да! [God, yes!]” she cried, each pulse of the clone’s release sending you both spiraling deeper into pleasure. The warmth flooded her core, and you could feel your clone’s throbbing cock pulsing inside her, your own body tingling as the sensations intertwined. The heat radiating from Natasha was intoxicating, a sweet rush of satisfaction that coursed through you with every throb of the clone.
The combination of sensations was overwhelming. The way the clone thrust back into her, slamming against the strap, sent her drifting into another dimension of bliss. Natasha cried out as she felt the clone stretching her in ways she never imagined possible, and it drove her wild. You could feel the slick warmth of her inner walls enveloping both you and the clone, mingling with her own juices, creating a heady mix that made your skin prickle with desire. Each pulse resonated within you, a delicious reminder of how completely she was filled, and it ignited a primal need in you to hold her tighter.
“Я такая полная… [I’m so full…]” Natasha babbled, her voice thick with pleasure as she felt the warm slickness spilling out, dripping down her thighs. “Пожалуйста! Ещё! [Please! More!]” She clung to you tighter, her body quaking with each thrust, and you felt her heat radiating, igniting every nerve ending in your body. The clone’s release filled her to the brim, and the sensation sent a rush of pleasure through you, mirroring her own ecstatic response.
As the clone surged inside her again, the potent warmth enveloped both of you. Each pulse of its release drove her deeper into ecstasy, creating a continuous cycle of pleasure that left her gasping for breath. You could feel your own arousal heightening with every movement, your body responding in kind to Natasha’s cries and the rhythmic pounding of the clone. Her moans echoed in your ears, intoxicating you as they mixed with the sound of skin slapping against skin.
“Ah! Yes! Please!” Natasha screamed, the overwhelming sensations sending her spiraling into yet another orgasm. You felt every pulse through the strap, a visceral connection that made you acutely aware of her pleasure. The slick warmth spilling around you only heightened your own arousal, driving you further into the intoxicating haze of shared ecstasy.
Her screams filled the air as the pressure peaked, and she squirted again, the force of her orgasm leaving her breathless and light-headed. You could feel the warm release of the clone filling her, and that sensation sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, making your body hum with excitement. The overwhelming sensations wrapped around her like a blanket as she felt her body go limp, her vision fading into darkness as she passed out, completely lost in ecstasy.
As Natasha’s body went limp in your arms, the clone began to dissolve, its form fading into nothingness as if it had never existed. The strap also vanished, leaving you feeling achingly empty yet exhilarated from the shared experience. You gently slid down against the wall, cradling Natasha against your chest, her breath warm and steady against your skin.
Your fingers were completely black now, a vivid reminder of the intensity that had just unfolded. But despite the darkened marks, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing every moment had been worth it. Holding her tightly, you felt a rush of protectiveness and tenderness wash over you as you watched her drift into a blissful slumber, the aftershocks of pleasure still evident in her soft sighs. In this quiet moment, you revelled in the connection you shared, cherishing the way her body fit perfectly against yours, as if you were two halves of a whole.
The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this cocoon of warmth and intimacy, a perfect refuge after the storm of ecstasy.
A little while later, Natasha slowly regained consciousness, her senses gradually returning to her. You were sitting on the ground with your back against the wall, her knees around your waist as she sat on your lap, her body completely leaning into you. She felt so warm and safe, a serene calm washing over her.
As her eyes fluttered open, she blinked lazily, taking a moment to adjust to her surroundings. When her gaze landed on you, a soft smile crept across her lips, and she chuckled tiredly. “I’m warm now,” she whispered against your lips, the playful spark in her eyes bringing a warmth to your chest.
You couldn’t help but grin as you took her face in your hands, savouring the moment. You mentally captured the image of her—hair tousled, cheeks flushed, and that blissful expression that showed just how thoroughly spent she was.
Without thinking, you leaned in and kissed her passionately, feeling the spark ignite between you. It was the first kiss you had shared that night, and both of you knew that this was more than “just” an 'I fuck my friend' friendship, it always has been more. The kiss spoke of something deeper, an unspoken connection solidified by the level of intimacy you had just shared.
When you finally pulled away, Natasha rested her forehead against yours, her breaths still heavy but now laced with contentment. “What just happened?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with a mix of disbelief and affection.
You chuckled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “I think we just took our friendship to a whole new level.”
Natasha smirked, her eyes still half-closed, and shot back, “Fuck that word. This isn’t friendship. Not to me anymore, it hasn’t been for a while.”
With a satisfied grin, she nestled into you, her body still warm against yours as she closed her eyes, content to linger in the afterglow of the night.
Softly, she snuggled her face into the crook of your neck before whispering the three words she was so scared to say.
The honesty in her voice mingled with the playful spark in her eyes, and it felt like a promise—a thrilling acknowledgment of everything that had just transpired between you.
Requested by @nooneno - Avengers are heroes, but also celebrities. Natasha hates this, especially the paparazzi that follow the team around. Then, she meets you. Enemies to lovers.
Warnings: Spider-Person!Reader, Doctor!Wanda Maximoff, Age Gaps (R is 23, Wanda is 38), Smut, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort | 18+ Minors DNI
A/N: This is version one (out of two) where each of them carry different endings, but the story is all the same.
Summary: Being a friendly neighborhood Spidey for years takes a toll on you, but upon meeting a rather curious doctor you find yourself wishing for normalcy for the first time since high school.
Version 2
All that came crashing down was red when you saw her.
Pain had crashed through your body when laying sprawled across a gurney that was wheeled into the emergency room at the Presbyterian in Lenox Hill. You clung to your side that lacked any red spandex. Humming a tender song, your eyes came to close. Although you carried immense superhuman strength, nothing could prepare you for the wave of criminals rummaging through the streets of the city with a pitch black sky and lights beaming to enlighten it.
You had been quick enough to finish off the last batch for the night. With Kingpin behind bars all you had left were trinkled men of his scouring through the island of Manhattan in search of trouble. Rather than garner a good night’s sleep for your class early the following day, you decided to go after them.
“The doctor will be right with you,” the nurse told you once she secured your side knowing the bruise upon it wouldn’t be fatal. She surveyed your hooded eyes that showed no fear. It wasn’t the first time you had been through it. After countless visits to hospitals that surrounded the city, far away from home due to anonymity, you settled for the first one you could easily swing to without having to deal with the bruised ribs of yours or hiss your way to Brooklyn.
Since high school you have tasked yourself with protecting the city. Once bit by the spider, upon losing your uncle, you knew that with the great power you held came great responsibility. Surely the remaining heroes across the world, the Avengers whose tower stood proudly in the midst of Midtown, were far too busy to take on your shroud of the friendly neighborhood Spider-Person.
The stench of lavender filled your nostrils as a peculiar redhead donning a white lab coat approached you. Her hair was made into a bun held on the back of her head by a pen, reading glasses perched on her nose as she read the clipboard in her pristine hands with perfectly manicured black nails. Albeit beautiful, you didn’t miss the bags which formed underneath seemingly tired green eyes. Sympathy was sent her way. The last thing you wished to do was keep the woman by your side longer than you had to.
“A bruised rib, huh?” Her voice was smooth as honey. Such a sound would not be easily forgotten by you. “It’s 12:34 am on a weekday. How did you manage to do that?”
“The subway?” you sheepishly shrugged.
“What, did you jump in front of the moving train or something?” When she giggled, you swore your wound had been cursed. “You know, if someone did this to you I am legally obligated to tell the police. So tell me,” her eyes flickered over the papers on the board. “Y/N, what happened to you? You seem like a healthy and fairly intelligent young woman. I doubt you did this to yourself.”
The way your name rolled off her tongue, voice thick with what you pin-pointed as a Sokovian accent, made you shudder with warmth. “It really was stupid. My friend and I were messing around at his apartment and I kinda fell off the fire escape,” you lied. “I know it sounds really weird, but I am not really the sharpest tool in the shed.”
“Oh honey this is New York. This isn’t nearly the worst or dumbest thing I’ve seen in the past hour.”
“Really?” You raised your eyebrows at that.
The doctor hummed at that, leaving the clipboard by the foot of the bed to walk towards the side where your bruise kept growing. The noise from the busy ER was nowhere to be found. Instead you put all your focus on the older woman. Watching as she carefully lifted your shirt, pushing your shaking hand away, you swore your breathing ceased. Having her in such close proximity was a true pleasure.
“I had a lady come in a few minutes ago for an ear infection. She went to her doctor earlier today, was prescribed antibiotics, took a few and swung by because, as she put it, ‘I still feel like shit, doc.’ Sometimes I wonder if all those years I spent in medical school were really worth it. But then I get patients like you and I remember that helping people is why I exist,” she explained. Gentle fingers merely ghosted your skin that began showing in an angry light red hue. “Then of course there was a young man who was dared by his very intelligent friends to jump off a building and grab onto a flagpole. It’s still unclear to me if he knows about this wonderful thing called gravity.”
Laughing made the pain worse, but you couldn’t help the amused sound that came from the depths of your throat. Tears sprung from your eyes as you wondered whether they came from the stinging of your wound or the humor of it all.
The doctor made lighthearted small talk with you, telling you more of the enjoyable stories from her job to keep you from thinking about how much it all ached. There wasn’t much she could do given your pain didn’t elicit any severe symptoms upon you. All Wanda brought you was the comfort of painkillers that you knew wouldn’t have much of an effect upon your superpowered being. Well, unless you took four at once.
“So are you married or…?” The innocently asked question floated through the air forcing a smirk from your doctor who, upon further review, began filling out the paperwork for your medicine.
“Happily divorced,” she replied. There was no animosity within her words. If anything the divorce had built up since the first day they got married. “And not looking to have a mid-life crisis with someone younger than me.”
“Ouch,” you laughed it off, winking at Wanda who teasingly brushed her hand upon your bruise. “Ouch, fuck!”
“Stay still, darling.”
The redhead took her sweet time filling out the forms. Although with a frenzy of patients waiting for her until the shift ended, spending time with you was the highlight of the night she never knew she needed.
“Any kids?”
“A lovely pair of twins,” she was quick to answer, her face lighting up at the mere thought of her children. Although quite the devious youngsters cared for by their father when she took late hours of work, she loved them more than life itself.
Twins, huh? It was a lot, but you didn’t dare mind the information. “Huh, that’s cute. Fraternal or identical?”
“Why are you so insistent in asking questions? I barely know anything about you,” she tilted her head.
“Well my name is Y/N Y/L/N and you know that I have a fucked rib.” The pain of it all and exhilaration faced by being around such a beautiful specimen made you much more talkative and confident. “I’m also really good at baking brownies. You?”
“Wanda,” she mumbled. “Dr. Wanda Maximoff, quite literally at your service. Unlike you, I don’t have a cracked rib.”
Although you had only spent less than half an hour together, you desperately craved her presence more often.
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Wanda Maximoff, how cute.
“So I met this girl.”
Sitting beside your best friend and roommate over the couch of the living room you shared, you broke the silence. The two of you had stuck to watching reruns of whatever Gordon Ramsey show you could find. You always brought up the fact that Julia Child was much better, hell even Rachel Ray, but Peter was insistent that the one true culinary god was Ramsay himself.
“Yeah?” His gaze didn’t break away from the television that she hypnotically stared at while plopping another mouthful of popcorn into his mouth.
“Well, this woman,” you were sure to correct.
That piqued his interest as he turned. The two of you were rather honest and open about who you dated, Peter having stuck by MJ’s side ever since high school as you found yourself more laid-back to the whole ordeal. Never had you gone for anyone older than a few years. “Oh?”
“She’s really pretty and I want to see her again. I mean she’s a doctor and works at the ER. We’re seeing each other again at some point given my career choice. More like a side hobby I guess.”
Peter was the first person who you told about your newfound powers back in your sophomore year of high school. He was quite surprised and unbelieving about it all, but as soon as you began crawling through the walls and ceiling before shooting webs from your very wrists, he was in awe. Only him, MJ, and your aunt knew of your not-so-secret identity.
“Wait, she's a doctor? How old is she?” He seemed worried at first, shutting off Ramsay as he yelled at yet another contestant of his show.
“Umm I’m not sure,” you shrugged, the ‘nor do I care’ going missing. “I don’t think people like being asked that. All I know is that she’s divorced and has twins! And she’s crazy pretty. I mean she had to touch me to do her doctoring job and I think that might’ve single-handedly healed me.”
“Dude you really shouldn’t go for that. She’s got a full life already with kids! You’re a superhero. What if you put them in danger?”
“Pete, I’m barely a hero, let alone super. Is it really that bad that I want to start dating around? Ever since I graduated high school I haven’t been able to do shit. Now I’m leaving college in a few months and I just…want to be happy for once. I don’t want to keep being this savior of the people for the rest of my life. Eventually I want to be with someone.”
Peter was unamused when he monotonically spoke. “With your mystery doctor who could be twice your age?”
“Yup!”
In theory it wasn’t a great idea, nor generally, but you couldn’t shake off the connection you felt with Wanda. Regardless of Peter’s ideals, you’d be sure to try and find your happiness. Lo and behold you’d regain a normal life after years of chaos.
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With the next few months passing, you carried on about your life normally. During the day you were the average college student who breezed through the final weeks of the Fall semester, while at night you took the mantle of a spider-theme vigilante. Although rest was a commodity you weren’t keen to, keeping those across the city safe sated your need for a thrill, making them happy along the way.
Several visits back to the emergency room at the hospital Wanda worked at had proven to be rather fruitful from time to time. Although with most occasions she was nowhere to be found, the older woman who carried a fire in her eyes not having a set schedule, you were hit with a surge of joy whenever you feasted your eyes upon her – even if it meant watching from afar as another doctor tended to your wounds.
Many moments had the two of you shared silent gazes. Never did you dare stop thinking of her upon your return home. Wanda plagued your dreams as well as your waking life. And yet you couldn’t dare complain.
Another weekend in the island of Manhattan meant busy work ahead of you. Once tugging on your red and blue latex suit, you threw yourself off the window of your shared apartment with Peter, promising that you’d bring him back pizza for him to share with you for breakfast. You’d only be young once in your lifetime after all.
Swinging across the buildings in the city brought you a loving sense of freedom. The power and responsibility that came with your nightly activities was pushed to the back of your mind as you flew from skyscraper to skyscraper. No one could enjoy such an adrenaline-inducing activity quite like you. Especially not Peter who had nearly barfed all over your suit the first and last time you took him swinging around.
The night went by smoothly. Each crime you stopped gave you a high sense of fulfillment. They weren’t major, mainly petty criminals in desperate need of cash raiding stores across the island, bodegas at times in surrounding boroughs. Most nights you could take breaks at the top of a building, crack open a cold bottle of water that you had to press against your sweaty forehead upon taking off your mask, then gnawing at a grilled cheese sandwich from Mondo’s Eatery – quaint little shop in Queens frequented by one Spider-person alongside their much more normal alter ego.
All went by quickly, at least until someone that caught your eye was put in the line of danger.
You weren’t stalking her per se, you truly made yourself believe that. If anything you watched over your faithful emergency room doctor whenever you could, checking out if she got home safely each night across the island. Wanda, you found in a self-assured not-so-creepy-manner, lived by herself in a minimalistic apartment you envied. It was much bigger than your own, one that you could barely pay as it was, and grimaced for a moment at the thought of how much she spent per month to keep living there.
As she made her way across the street to reach her building, her eyes were downcast and upon her phone chatting away with the father of her children who agreed to bring the twins over the following week. Their relationship was amicable, and yet she carried disdain in secrecy at the venom she had been spewed so long ago.
When a car at full-speed made its way down the road Wanda waltzed through, all you saw was red.
“Look out!”
Swinging down the edge of a building, you threw a web across the adjacent one, aiming towards Wanda. You grabbed her swiftly mere seconds before she was to become one with the asphalt. As much as she screamed clutching her phone and staring across the city, you never once let go.
You settled for setting her down gently at the roof of her building. Knowing it was never easy for first-timers, you helped her lay on the floor, clutching your latex suit tightly as she attempted to catch her heavy breath. Being in such close proximity to her, your arm wrapped around her waist while tapping gently upon her skin, made you drool beneath your mask.
“That was a close one,” you awkwardly said, grimacing as you never knew how to break the ice after quite an event. “You should really be careful next time. New Yorkers are no joke when it comes to driving. I wouldn’t want you to be flattened by a 4x4.”
“Holy shit,” was all Wanda could muster. She turned to you, wide green eyes seemingly staring through your soul even if yours were covered. “You saved my life. I almost died and you-”
“Yeah it’s kind of my thing. Don’t worry, I do it a lot. It goes with the whole hero thing, you know?”
Wanda was able to let out a shaky laugh, although deep down you knew she still attempted to ground herself. “I don’t assume you’d like to come over for tea as a thanks. Spider…person?”
“That’s me, but no I have a rule about not fraternizing with the people I saved.” It wasn’t a lie, but for Wanda you’d always make an exception.
“Yeah? Did Tony Stark come up with that for you? Or was it the buff guy in red, white, and blue pajamas who likes destroying the city with the weird frisbee?” Wanda raised her eyebrows.
“Oh I wish. I’m not on the level of the Avengers yet. I’m just a friendly neighborhood Spider-person.”
When the redhead tilted her head as though it was her trademark move, you froze. “You are very friendly indeed. So, about that tea? I can even do coffee. It’s late and I almost died, why not make it a pizza?”
“I live and breathe pizza. It’s my favorite thing ever,” you smirked even though she couldn’t see it. Pizza. Pizza? You frowned at the familiarity of it, but upon a peculiar ringtone blasting through your phone, you cursed beneath your breath. “Oh fuck, Peter’s pizza!”
“Who?” Wanda questioned with amusement.
“Uh nothing, nevermind! You have a lovely evening miss- ma’am?” Although you wanted nothing more than to remain in place, sit down and chat further over a large pizza that you’d eat most slices from, you had a duty to the city and your friend. Waving off to the doctor, you jumped on the ledge. “See ya later doc! Try not to die!”
Wanda was taken aback. Although still stressed, she was able to pull herself off the floor and run towards the edge of the building where she watched you swing away as quick as you had appeared. Shrugging, she found it quite odd. Never had she told you she was a doctor.
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Seeing Wanda across the city had become a daily habit of yours, an obsession as Peter put it. You had watched her from afar, intervening when required, and simply went off as though nothing had occurred. Upon your arrival at the emergency room where you saw one another differently, you began noticing a rather deliriously beautiful smile upon her features you had yet to see present.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were stalking me.”
It would typically make you jump, and yet after countless times of saving Wanda from the very same fate – nearly being run over – you weren’t sure if it still surprised you. The banter the two of you shared, the unspoken bond that had settled between both you and the hero she looked up to, was nothing you wished to rid yourself from.
“Me? Stalking you? Oh no no no!” A lie. Another faithful night at the top of her apartment building had you leaning against the ledge. “I’m just your friendly neighborhood Spidey. I’m obligated to save a pretty girl when she’s in trouble.”
Wanda brushed the dirt off her slacks, shaking her head with amusing disbelief. “Girl?”
“Er, woman? Sorry.”
“I’m kidding. Gosh, you’re so easy to tease.” She was much more relaxed than at the hospital, a demeanor you had seen was saved for her children. “Who knew the spider vigilante was so cute?”
You ignored the blush that set upon your cheeks, thankful that your mask was on to hide your delicious embarrassment.
“Well I have to-”
“Go. You have to go. Again.” The final part was mumbled almost solemnly. Wanda wouldn’t admit it, but she had taken quite a liking to being saved by you. “Will I ever get to see what my knight in colorful spandex looks like?”
“Uh maybe,” you shrugged. “It’s just a secret identity for a reason. It’s not like we know much about each other.” Another lie. You had spent the better part of the last few weeks chatting amicably with the older woman, exploring different aspects of your individual lives in the safety of the rooftop. As much as you wished to tell her, you didn’t wish for her to react badly. “So, see you later?”
“Yes, darling. Until the next time you save me.”
To your dismay, you didn’t get to save her again in the coming weeks.
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Although you didn’t get to see Wanda when donning your suit, you still had your ways. Ever so often you’d meet enemies who’d take quite the crack at you, leaving you needing minor stitches or an examination from the doctor. More often than not that task was given to your favorite redhead who began working much more at night.
“Would you still think I’m cute even if I was that swinging arachnid?” You questioned one day. In your defense your confidence and boldness was fueled by the medication running through your veins as she sutured your arm. “You know, the person with the red and blue suit.”
“I never said you were cute.” Her features gave her away fully as she beamed, not even keeping her joy hidden away.
“Well you didn’t say I wasn’t cute.” Watching intently, your eyes flickered upon Wanda’s as she patched you up. The blue from the latex gloves had become a favored color of yours. “Now answer the question.”
“Considering my children are obsessed with that buffoon of a hero, then yes, I would still think you’re cute. They saved me once anyway.” Wanda paused. “Well, a few times. But who’s counting?”
“Yeah?”
“Yes, darling.”
Taking a deep breath, you knew it was now or never. Talking it over with Peter had led you to believe that it was a bad, terribly thought-out idea according to your friend, but gazing at the beauty before you, you couldn’t find it to be true. Each day Wanda consumed your thoughts; each night Wanda consumed your dreams. Honesty was a first step you were willing to take, albeit risky.
“Well good thing I am them.” Your voice was shaky. The last time you had told someone about your secret identity had been years before. “Nice to see you again, Dr. Maximoff.”
Wanda shook her head and let out a howl. The mere thought, the amusing humoring, of one of her most regular patients being the Spider-person was too good to be true. “Sure, and I’m Black Widow.”
Rolling your eyes, you knew you’d have to show proof. After having looked around to make sure no one looked in your general direction, you shot a web from your bare wrists towards the small table beside you, pulling it to you with agility. Wanda wasn’t quite sure of what her eyes saw, if they deceived her, but as you shot yet another web towards the ceiling, she was left with her mouth agape.
“Y/N?”
“It’s really been awhile since we last saw each other. Well, when I was in my suit at least,” you chuckled. “So, uh, do you think it would be appropriate to ask you out now? On a date I mean. I can swing us to the top of a building or even take you somewhere. Just not too expensive because, you know, college student here. But I’d like to get to know you better if that’s alright.”
With her bewilderment still intact, Wanda involuntarily found herself nodding, deep down feeling relief that the two objects of her affection were one and the same.
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There were a limited number of places you could take Wanda without Peter losing his mind about you spending a fortune, and yet as you left the apartment in silence, you didn’t care to tell him where you were headed. It was easier to swing there anyway, and you doubted he’d find it suspicious if you went out wearing your suit, instead arriving at Wanda’s apartment building only to change on the roof, leaving your backpack webbed to the ledge before making your way down.
You had found it difficult to move past the door that Wanda opened, smiling at you as she allowed you to feast your eyes upon the tight, black dress she donned. Suddenly it was your favorite piece of attire and color. Giving her a bouquet of flowers you had picked up along the way, you didn’t expect much, and yet the kiss placed upon one of your shining cheeks had you blushing for the entire dinner.
“So, uhm, you just shoot webs out of your wrist?”
If there was something you should know about Wanda, it was that she got right to the point. There was no hesitation within her as took a slice from the pizza she had made herself, handcrafting the dough and everything during the little spare time she had between her job and kids.
“Yup!”
“That’s…very interesting. Do you shoot them out of anywhere else?”
At the innuendo you blushed, turning away so Wanda couldn’t catch sight of your embarrassment. “No, no. It’s just the wrists. I promise I am perfectly normal otherwise. Well, except for the superhuman strength, durability, a weird healing thing, agility, the wall thingy, and the Spidey sense.”
“A what?”
“Spidey sense! I’m not sure how to explain it, but that’s just what I call it. I guess it’s like an improved gut feeling,” you explained. Unless she experienced the same as you, she lacked the depth to understand it. At least that’s what you thought until she nodded, seemingly pleased with your response. “Thanks for the pizza by the way. I didn’t peg you for a margherita kind of gal.”
“Well, I have been wanting to sit down and have dinner with my savior for ages now. The least I can do is get you something you’d enjoy.”
Hesitating to take a bite from your third slice, you stared at her. “Do you just see me as the person who saved your life or-”
“Oh gosh no, darling. To me you’re Y/N, the very interesting patient who always makes my nightmares at the ER quite enjoyable.” The warmth in her beam did not go missed. “And of course I have to take into account the fact that you enjoy throwing yourself off buildings in your spare time. It doesn’t matter what you do. I find you to be a very interesting specimen, sweetheart. And if you’ll allow me, I’d love to get to know you better.”
You settled for that response, not noticing the glint in Wanda’s eyes as she watched you look down to attempt to hide a mad flush upon your cheeks. Numerous insecurities came crashing against her at once. She was much older than you, a mother of two children, a divorcee, and most importantly a doctor who had a very demanding work schedule. Her priority was to serve others, but she mused that so was yours. Together you were quite perfect for one another.
The two of you remained seated over the dining room table, the apartment silent let alone for the voices which boomed with the other. You hadn’t felt as relaxed as you did talking to her in comparison to anyone else, not even your best friend and roommate.
“What about your kids?” You decided to ask once Wanda had brought up your family. “Twins, right?”
“Yeah, my boys,” her face lit up at the instant mention of her beloved children. “Billy and Tommy. They’re my whole world. Both are ten right now, which is a very tricky age as you know. But they’re really the sweetest kids ever. And their father he…”
You waited for an answer, but when she didn’t give you any, you pushed on. “What about him? If you want to talk about it I mean.”
“It’s fine,” she brushed it off. “It happened years ago anyway. We got divorced when the boys were two. Everyone assumes the two of us are okay and to a certain extent we are, but it wasn’t pretty. There was a lot that went on between Vis and I. I just…I haven’t allowed myself to be with anyone else since the divorce. I’m not sure how to properly date someone.”
With raised eyebrows you found yourself giggling. It took Wanda aback, of course it did, but you quickly explained your amusement. “It’s not really rocket science, Wanda. We’re just getting to know each other. We talk, we laugh, and we enjoy the other’s presence. I like you, a lot actually. Just relax, take it easy.”
“I don’t think I’ve been able to relax since I graduated high school, but I’ll try,” she snorted.
The evening was quite peaceful. For the first night ever you allowed yourself to take a break, to enjoy the little time you had with Wanda, to sit beside her on the couch and snicker as she put on her favored sitcoms – learning she adored them was a rather endearing fact you’d forever remember about the woman.
The New York City skyline would never carry the same beauty as did Wanda. Although her eyes darted out the window watching the sunset intently, yours were on her god-like appearance. You couldn’t even begin to count your stars at the mere fact of being there.
“I’ll miss you,” Wanda said when it was time for your departure. The half-eaten pizza was cleaned up by you as she stood back, your appetite gone as you focused on being beside her, stubbornly having attempted to stop you from tidying up. “But I know that duty calls. Time for you to save lives, honey.”
Never would you stop the ends of your mouth from rising at the pet names. “I’ll miss you two. I had a lot of fun tonight. I really can’t wait until we do this again.”
That night when you swung around the city, not a thought filled your head other than Wanda.
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Each passing day you sent Wanda a new picture of yourself, not knowing she adored saving them all into a little folder on her phone meant for just you. Winter was upon you, meaning the hours she put into the work at the hospital were shared with the moments she spent rummaging through the city in search of gifts for the twins. For that entire month, she was a gift-giver, only Santa on Christmas Eve.
During her break at the hospital, she found herself searching through her phone for gifts, all while smiling at the ding of a new message from you. Opening it up, she found you wearing your trademark suit, pointing the camera over yourself as your other hand held a pole in the midst of the sky.
Wanda: Where is that?
You: Top of the Empire State Building. I should really take you here someday.
Wanda: No thank you, my little spiderling. I haven’t recovered from the first few times you took me swinging. It’s freezing out anyway. Not all of us have been bitten by radioactive spiders.
You: I’ll find the spider again and make it bite you. That way you can be Spider-girl!
Wanda: Spider-woman**
Wanda: Were you able to find the Lego sets?
Another image was sent, only this time it was the inside of your backpack which carried differing sets of Legos from Harry Potter: one was a Gryffindor themed one while the other was Ravenclaw.
You: Here they are. How come you need them so soon anyway??? Christmas isn’t for a few weeks.
Wanda: But Chanukah is next week, my darling. The twins have been begging for these. Now I just need to find a new chanukiah. Last year Tommy was running around the apartment and ended up breaking it. I can’t tell you how much that little boy cried.
You: I didn’t know you were Jewish.
Wanda: I am. This season always puts a dent in my bank account. The twins celebrate both Chanukah and Christmas from their dad’s side. It’s hell trying to not spoil them but also get them enough gifts for them to enjoy.
Wanda: Now I have to go, sweetheart. We both have lives to save. Stay safe and warm!
You: Try not to fight any patients. I know some people are dumbasses but one of us needs to have a stable job. Bye, miss you already <3
You tightened the scarf around your neck after having shoved your phone into your backpack. Wanda refused to let you carry out your vigilantism if you simply wore your suit with nothing to keep you warm. So in her motherly mannerism, she wrapped a scarf around you, guided a beanie over your head with earmuffs, and handed you a coat. She hadn’t been quick enough to get you to wear warm layers over your legs or a sweater. The last thing you wanted was to run around the city wearing a full set of warm gear with only your mask to show off your heroic identity.
Swinging through the city knowing Wanda was there to wait for you at the end of the day, being able to drop by her apartment even if the children were around and finding time to sneak a few loving moments, made it all worth it.
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Since you became official with Wanda, visiting at the hospital seemed to have lost its meaning. So rather than drop by the emergency room for her to stitch you up, more often than not you found yourself crawling across the walls of your girlfriend’s apartment building, sliding the window she left unlocked just for you before making your way inside to the warmth of the room.
“Wanda,” you whispered. There was no correct way to wake her up, you had found. Either way she’d scream her lungs out, still not used to seeing her partner hovering on the ceiling by a web hoping to get some medical attention. “Babe, I know you need your beauty sleep because you got a demanding job and some gremlins running around, but I could really use your help.” Even then she didn’t budge. Well, at least until you not-so-carefully shook her awake. “Wanda!”
Although ridden with fear, Wanda was adorable when she sat up immediately. Her eyes were wide, forehead coming in contact with your own covered one for a rather heavy hit. You were fine of course, but the same could not be said for the average human who rubbed her face while hissing with pain.
“Baby there is a door for a reason,” Wanda groaned, droopy eyes coming in contact with your figure. “And other doctors at the hospital.”
“Well you’re my doctor,” you mused.
“I’m also your very tired girlfriend,” she retorted. As much as she pretended to dislike being awoken in the middle of the night, Wanda beamed when eyeing you. She would forever find herself in awe with your presence. “What happened this time?”
“It’s nothing bad, just a little fall down a building.” At your words Wanda snapped her head up. “Don’t worry, doc. I’m superhuman, remember? Nothing hurts, but I wanted you to check it out just to be really sure.”
Wanda sighed, shaking her head with disbelief. She had yet to understand how your biology worked and differed from her own, but knew it was best to not ask many questions as you didn’t even know yourself. She was fascinated by the hero, but even more so by the angel that hid behind the mask and knew she’d be more worried if you didn’t say anything.
“Let’s see.” Wanda allowed her hands to run across your mask, finding the edges of it that attached to the rest of your bodysuit. She tilted her head upon meeting your eye line with raised eyebrows. “May I?”
“Go ahead.”
Pulling your mask down, Wanda licked her lips. You were freezing to the touch, but she knew you didn’t feel the cold as intensely as she did. Fingertips ran across your flushed cheeks, the mask being left halfway on as she studied what she saw.
You didn’t pull back as Wanda inched forth, her lips ghosting over your own. “I missed you, little spiderling. I only wish you’d visit me other than when you need a doctor’s gift.”
Before you could dare muster a reply, her mouth crashed against your own. She kissed you hard as though you hadn’t in days, because with the winter season taking full-force, her time mostly spent working and celebrating Hanukkah with her children, you rarely got to sit down and be with one another. There was nothing normal about your relationship, but you both wished to reach for it regardless.
Holding your head in place as you remained floating from the ceiling, Wanda made out with you. The children had long resided sleeping in their beds, far too gone within Sandman’s realm to dare interrupt the delicious moment. When she slipped her tongue past your welcoming lips, you wondered if you had the willpower to stop this from growing. She was far too intoxicating, you being drunk in her, to deny her.
“There’s challah in the kitchen,” was the first thing Wanda said as she pulled back, her face sharing a similar hue to your own. “And as much as I’d like to keep going, I really want to make sure you’re not about to die on me.”
“Yeah that’s fair. Can I, uh, sit on your bed?” You questioned.
“You don’t even have to ask, sweetheart.”
Being nuzzled close by Wanda once you had shed your suit and mask away wasn’t a rare occasion. Instead you found joy in your skin being analyzed by the physician, relaxing as she ensured that no major damage resided on your body. She had stocked up on bandages, gauzes, and enough hydrogen peroxide to cure a small army for your sake. If anything, she adored the little moments she got to play doctor at home with you by her side.
When it came down to just you and her, life was peaceful for once. No longer did either of you have to worry about patients, citizens in need of help, or even children that she dearly loved. It was just you two sharing the sweet moments you’d never easily get rid of.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but do you have anything other than bread? I kinda skipped breakfast…and lunch…and maybe even dinner,” your voice got lower by the second. Wanda had long ago reminded you of the importance of eating, but being busy with finals and heroism, you barely got time to shower at night.
“You really have to take better care of yourself, honey. You may be a hero, but you’re still a person. Basic self-care shouldn’t be alien to you.” Wanda held herself back from reprimanding you. It’s not like you were one of the twins, and yet she couldn’t help but care for you in such a close manner. “But yes, Dr. Lewis brought a delicious matzo ball soup. I think you’ll like it.”
“Darcy?” Wanda raised her eyebrows at that – it didn’t go missed by you. “When you weren’t around she was the one to nurse me back to health. After doing my stitches for a few weeks and talking about the best pizza in the city, we’re now on a first-name basis.”
“Hmm well she’s a wonderful doctor,” Wanda pointed out. She took a pause before allowing her insecurities to get the best of her. “Younger.”
Although mostly oblivious, you could sense the hint of venom and sadness in her voice. Wanda gave a lot of thought to the difference in your ages.“I guess, but you’re the only doctor I got my eye on. Really the only person I care to kiss.”
“That is very sweet of you.”
When Wanda didn’t smile, you did it for her. “Well, it’s true.”
Once you were all checked out, your side merely patched up with little scrapes that would soon heal, Wanda guided you towards the kitchen. She still found it amusing how you pranced around in what she called ‘a very colorful and stretchy pajama bodysuit.’ Teasing you was truly the highlight of her days.
While you took your seat on a stool in the kitchen island, Wanda set off to find the remaining food. She found it heartwarming that although you didn’t share her beliefs, you could appreciate them alongside her culture. Throughout many dates you called restaurants ahead of time to ensure proper dishes for your girlfriend who always pecked you on the cheek for being so sweet to her.
As you fed yourself a mouthful of the dish, you suddenly piped up. “Oh I finished my last final today!”
Wanda shook her head at the childish manner of yours to speak with your mouth full, but her exhausted face was fueled with pride. “That’s wonderful, baby! Physiology, correct?” You nodded. “How was it?”
“I think it went well. I dunno, I just hope I didn’t entirely fail the class.”
“You are a very smart and capable person, okay?” When her features turned serious, you knew Wanda was about to give you the pep talk of a lifetime. “You’d never fail at anything. I am very proud of you for even having done the exam. Now don’t you dare put yourself down, my dear. You sell yourself far too short when having such a big and beautiful brain.”
“You think my brain is beautiful?” Eyebrows raised, you took another mouthful of the soup. “Gross.”
“It’s so sexy.” You and Wanda shared a lighthearted laugh, ensuring that you weren’t loud enough to awaken the twins you had yet to meet. “Now be good for me and eat up. I’m not letting you go back home in your condition. There’s an extra spot in my bed for a reason.”
Although there wasn’t anything wrong with you apart from a faint bruise, Wanda was having none of it. That night you slept better than ever after having showered, wearing oversized pajamas she had given you before laying by her side. You only hoped she wouldn’t comment on the way you awoke with both arms wrapped around her waist as you mirrored a koala – for Wanda, that is what a perfect life was.
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Wanda: Would you like to meet the twins?
You stared down at your phone when you received the message. It had become a custom for you to always immediately look at it when the distinctive sound of Wanda’s texts came through. She could need you, or be in mid-emergency. Whatever it was, hers were always the first messages you saw in the morning.
You: Yeah! That would be awesome actually.
You: Wait Spidey-me or me-me?
Wanda: Whatever you feel comfortable with, angel. I just thought we’ve been together for two long months. And it’s almost Christmas so they’ll be far too busy with their dad after the 24th.
You: I guess it can’t hurt for them to love me because I’m their favorite superhero.
You: I am their fav superhero, right?
Wanda: 🤐
You: WANDA!!
Wanda: Yes, bubala. You are their favorite. What matters most is that you’re MY favorite!
You: So cute. I’ll call you later tonight and we can work something out. Now go save some lives, Dr. Maximoff!
Wanda: You too, b'shert. Keep warm for me.
Each message she sent you made you smile more than the last. Nothing, no one, had allowed you to feel in such a wondrous manner. Wanda was a breath of fresh air. She was the calm, serene cool breeze on a Spring morning after having woken up to open the window — so beautifully rejuvenating you with life.
You’d never let her go.
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You weren’t sure what to bring to meet a pair of ten year old boys, but perhaps bags of candy Wanda would surely confiscate and the surprise of meeting a superhero would be enough. The day in which Wanda invited you over caused you great stress, your hands shaking at each given moment, only increasing once you left your home.
“You’ll be fine,” Peter had told you. “They’re just kids. Plus, if it doesn’t work out then you can always, you know, take advantage of the whole superhero thing.”
It was wrong, but you realized he had half a point. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as horrible as you thought given that they were Wanda’s children, but you feared that if they disliked you, that perhaps you’d break up with Wanda — or worse, you’d get between their relationship.
As scared as you were at first, upon seeing the curious eyes of the twins you could only smirk at them, offering the candy you brought as a peace offering while Wanda threw a hard gaze your way.
“Are you Y/N?” One of the twins, Tommy as you recognized from the pictures Wanda had sent and shared with you, questioned.
“Are you dating our mom?” Came Billy’s blunt curiosity.
“Billy!”
You threw Wanda a sympathetic gaze at Wanda, stooping to the boys’ eyeline. “Yes to both of those questions. I hope it’s okay that I’m seeing her. Your mom is a wonderful warrior of a woman and I couldn’t be happier by her side. I’m sure the two of you are just as amazing as she is, huh?”
“Maybe,” Tommy shrugged as she attempted to keep his amusement down.
The four of you sat around the dinner table, you across from Wanda who failed to keep her joy of you being there down. She eyed you every once in a while as the children chatted about the eventful weekend they had with their father. Although seemingly a good parent, you had your reservations about that extending to his persona.
You couldn’t help but find the similarities in Tommy and Billy alongside their mother. They both carried her charisma, the glint in their eyes as they passionately spoke about their favored topics. You learned that not only were they avid comic book readers, but that from their own words their own shared bedroom was solely dedicated to their favorite heroes – you wondered if that extended to Wanda’s heroism.
“Boys, Y/N actually has something they’d like to tell you. It’s about that…swinging spiderling,” Wanda couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease. “Honey?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. Well, I guess there’s not really a way to sugarcoat this, but I’m the Spider-person,” you flashed them a toothy grin, but as content as you were relaying the information, they only stared at you blankly.
“Like for Halloween?” Billy asked as he turned to his brother.
“No, I mean I’m the person behind the mask. Swinging around the city and stuff like that.”
The boys eyed their mother, silently questioning your sanity without muttering a word. They had met their fair share of bizarre girlfriends their father had, but never did they imagine their mother to have stooped to such a level.
“Okay fine, look,” you rolled your eyes, raising the sleeve of your warm sweater to point it at the wall. “Sorry, Wanda.” Upon your apologies, you shot a web towards your partner, reaching her fork before pulling it towards you. “Ta-da!”
Although surprised, the boys still weren’t sold on it.
“Anyone can do that. We got web-shooters too, you know,” Billy said.
Sighing, you couldn’t help but stoop to the lowest levels to impress them. You pointed at your bare wrists, showing them off so that they could see the lack of shooters on them. “But I don't have- never mind. I’m just gonna borrow your ceiling real quick.”
“Knock yourself out, darling,” Wanda laughed, making sure that her boys were eating while enjoying the show you put on.
After crawling through the walls and ceiling for long enough, nearly breaking half of Wanda’s decorations at that, you were sure it was enough for the twins to tell what your heroic identity was. You knew your girlfriend wasn’t too keen about you rummaging through her home without walking on your two feet upon the floor, but even she chortled when you hovered from a web above Tommy and Billy, the twins elated to find that their mom’s partner was their favored hero.
From then on, on days which you could visit, at least once a week, you found yourself planted over Wanda’s couch. Your job was to bring the snacks and popcorn while Wanda provided the movies. Together you bonded much better with the twins, and for the first time in your life you didn’t mind being seen as a parental figure.
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The holidays alongside Wanda went by with ease. You didn’t have much of a family, always celebrating Christmas with MJ and Peter, at times even Ned and May. Although missing them, you found solace beside your newfound girlfriend.
“How do you light it again?” You questioned, eyes darting across the chanukiah sitting before you. The last thing you wished to do was to tarnish such a valuable part of her religion. “Babe, I’m scared to set your place on fire.”
“Hush. You light it from left to right. ‘Left to right, that’s how you light’ is what I tell my boys,” Wanda explained as she stood behind you, her hand guiding your own. “Always light the shamash first then light the rest with it.”
Doing as you were told, you lit the candle in the middle, carefully making sure none of the fire landed over the table. Usually the boys were there to properly help your inexperienced self, but now that you were alone by Wanda’s side, there was no hiding behind the pair of ten-year-olds.
“And don’t you dare break my chanukiah either. Pietro bought me this one and I love the design,” Wanda told you. “Look at that beautiful crystal.”
“Please focus on me and not the crystal. I know it looks fucking awesome, but I think I’m about to accidentally desecrate an entire culture,” you whined as your hand began shaking, the candle merely hovering over a fresh unlit one. “I’m so sorry Wanda, I-”
“HaShem will forgive you, sweetheart. And you are doing great. Here, let me help.” Wanda guided her hand atop your own, letting it run across a candle that she helped you light. She remained there for a few seconds before pulling it away to carefully light the rest on their proper other. “Did you know that the central candle represents HaShem’s light? This chanukiah is a symbol of enlightenment.”
You hummed at that, pressing your back against Wanda’s front. Turning slightly, you didn’t miss the glint of pride she received upon eyeing the candelabra. “Thank you for teaching me about this. It’s really important to you, so it’s important to me too.”
“Hmm how sweet,” she hummed.
Hugging you from behind, Wanda’s lips found your own. It began as a sweet peck, simply embracing all the unspoken love she held for you. As much as she adored her children, the redhead couldn’t be happier that she had uninterrupted time by your side while on a lengthy break from work.
The two of you have lacked the loneliness to be together. After nearly three months of becoming official, the desire you had for the other had reached its boiling point. It was only a matter of time before said volcano erupted.
“You look beautiful tonight,” you whispered against Wanda’s lips. Turning around, you got a full view of her outfit lit up by the six candles. It was a simple cardigan alongside warm yoga pants, and yet you couldn’t help but see her as the most beautiful specimen across the galaxy. “Such a pretty thing.”
“I could say the same about yourself, zeeskeit.” Wanda pulled you close, her hands running down your deeply clothed body which shielded you from the blizzard being carried across the New York skyline. She let her fingertips travel beneath your hoodie, an area she only halfway explored during your lengthy make-out sessions over her bed after your patrol sessions. “May I touch you? Am I allowed to…make love to you?”
“Make love to me?” You raised your eyebrows because beneath the charade of being older and wiser, Wanda was nothing but innocent when it came to lust. She blushed slightly at your institution and attempted to pull back, but you held her face close, thumb running down a reddened, warm cheek. “Yeah. You can do anything you’d like, Wanda. Anything just for you.”
Closing in on you, Wanda allowed you to feast upon the warmth she exuded. Her lips teased your own with small grazes, her eyes darting to them before wetting her own with her tongue. “Come here, my love.” Becoming one, she grabbed your hands tightly, forehead pressed against your own as the oil from the chanukiah burned brightly. With viridescent eyes closed, she breathed out. “Tzu gezunt, tzu leben, un tzu mazal.”
You were dragged to her bedroom by excited arms which simply begged you for fun. Wanda’s giddiness matched an immaturity you held as a young adult, throwing herself over the edge of the bed in sitting position before pulling you over herself. The life in her eyes was lit with the fire in the living room.
“I don’t tend to do this, you know?” Wanda muttered against your lips, taking them in control again, kissing you tenderly. “But I’m happy to make an exception for you, pretty one.”
“I’m honored. I can’t believe I’m the only one who gets to have you like this,” you told her, your mouth dropping a flurry of endearment across her face, merely hovering over her ear with hands that tugged at her clothes. “May I?”
“Knock yourself out.”
As though she mirrored a porcelain doll, you began undressing Wanda. Each article of clothing was shed little by little, her cardigan merely inching up her skin in a slow tempo as the two of you made out. There was hesitation in her body that froze at times, but melted when your lips guided her.
There too was uncertainty in you. With superhuman strength you could easily lift a car and not bat an eye, meaning hurting Wanda wasn’t completely off the table. You didn’t allow your hands to stay long upon her midsection as you removed her top, instead substituting them with your sight that didn’t leave your girlfriend’s upper body which lacked a brassiere.
“Holy fuck,” you drooled at the sight of her bare breast, far too afraid to break such artistic beauty. Praxiteles only wished his Aphrodite matched your own. “There’s no way you’re this pretty. It should be illegal because fu-
A finger landed over your lips successfully shushing you.
“You swear like a sailor, sheifale,” Wanda giggled and you swore you could only see a goddess before you. “Let me help you out of your clothes. It’s not fair if you only get to see me.”
The pout she threw at you was enough to make you inch back, immediately grabbing your clothes and throwing it off. You nearly fell against the bedside table and the pants that pooled at your feet. At least until success met you halfway and you simply stood there with nothing but your underwear on, embarrassed as you noticed the little dogs with Santa hats on.
Looking down at yourself, you didn’t dare face Wanda. “Yeah, sorry about this. It was a gag gift from last year’s Secret Santa. May gets really into Christmas and she loves dogs so…”
“And here I thought you couldn’t get more adorable.” Wanda shook her head with amusement, her room dimly lit and yet you could see every ounce of happiness upon her. “Now come here. I miss you already.”
You helped Wanda off her pants, shifting her so that she’d lay with her head against the fluffy pillows you found to be wildly comfortable after having crashed over for various nights. Her legs were smooth against your touch, so adorably responsive as your partner squirmed at the slightest caresses. You ran your hands up until you grabbed her backside, squeezing it as you pulled her in for a kiss.
Fingertips merely grazed her lacy black panties, yanking down the edges before-
“Wait stop.”
As soon as she spoke, you followed. While on top of Wanda you fully drew yourself back, breathlessly staring down with confusion. Her arms covered her chest, insecurities arising as she closed her eyes, hair coating her face to give her an extra sense of privacy.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” You questioned with furrowed eyebrows, inspecting Wanda in search of any pain.
“No, no, I just…” Wanda felt shame rising through her nude body. “I’m scared.”
“Me too,” you sympathized with her, you really did. Fear was nothing new for you. Ever since you got bit by that spider, not a day went by where you didn’t feel as though it would be your last. With enemies only increasing in size and powers, it was only a matter of time before the friendly neighborhood Spider-person was bested. “I’m scared to hurt you,” you admitted solely. “What are you afraid of?”
Wanda held your hands with her own, brushing her thumbs against the back of them before throwing you a reassuring smile that instantly turned bitter.
“I’m scared that maybe you won’t like what you see. Honey, it’s no secret that I am older, you know this,” she couldn’t help but say with dismay. “I have kids and I’m pushing 40. After the pregnancy Vis could barely even look at me. I’m not as pretty as the other girls you probably see on campus. Your friends. I’m…old and weird. I have stretch marks and I’ve never even been with someone who wasn't him before or after-”
At that you frowned, unbelieving the words that had spewed from her mouth. Surely you understood the fact that her job and children took up most of her time, but Wanda’s beauty shone across the galaxy brighter than the sun itself. “You haven’t?”
“No, sweetheart,” she felt humiliated to not be as experienced as she believed she should be. “I met Vis in high school. It’s always been him. I was supposed to grow old with him, not by myself…”
“Shhh it’s okay. I don’t mind.” You admitted, nuzzling your forehead against her own. A kiss was placed upon the tip of her nose, her face even more dashing without an ounce of make-up covering it. “And you’re not alone. Never with me.”
“But I’m ugly,” Wanda practically cried, unable to tear away the knot in her throat.
“Baby, what? Where is this coming from? You’re not ugly at all. You’re a warrior. You have given birth to not one, but two kids! Look at how far you’ve gotten in your career. With, again, two kids!” Seeing her in such disarray over untrue facts she spewed tugged at your heartstrings. Why couldn’t she see herself for what she was? Perhaps not all goddesses knew of their wondrous powers. “You’re perfect.”
“But honey, my body…” Wanda tried to muster out, but you shushed her to quiet down. Fingertips trailed across a raised scar on her abdomen, exploring the brutal force it had been made with. “Tommy came out fine, no trouble when I was giving birth to him. But Billy he…he was a c-section. The doctor didn’t think he’d make it, but he pulled through at the last second. It was the only way to get him out. As much as I love him, this,” with teary eyes, Wanda touched the marking on her skin. “Ugly scar, it cost me my marriage and my beauty. Vis couldn’t even look at me afterwards. A mutilated wife.”
You shared the sentiment, your own eyes filling up with tears. “If I ever meet him, I’m shoving my foot so far up his ass, it’s coming out his throat. That fucking idiot…” you whispered, a bout of bile rising up your throat.
Wanda didn’t react. She had long been told the same things from her friends, from Dr. Lewis who even once threatened to castrate her ex-husband with a scalpel from her operating room. She couldn’t find the truth in the statements. Vis rolled his eyes whenever she attempted to surprise him during anniversaries, the dreaded August 23rd. He would never lie to her.
“Can I see you?” You questioned, your eyes darting to Wanda’s tender ones raw with tears. “Only if you want. We can sit back on the couch and watch a movie or something. I could swing around and get us some food. Margherita pizza for the lady?”
Remaining silent, Wanda shrugged off her arms from her body. She allowed her hands to sit atop your shoulders, fingers exploring the bare area lovingly. Even without sight she could craft your body blindly, hands contorting to form you into a sculpture.
“Touch me,” she gave in. “please?”
You stared down at her stomach and all that met you were rolls sprawled across her midsection with stretch marks upon every inch of her skin: upon her breasts and along them, on her slightly swollen tummy you’d forever worship – you longed to kiss on her thighs that remained pushed together until you carefully pried them apart, and even by her hips which perfectly presented the markings. It felt alien to you. Staring at Wanda’s body, you wondered how she could ever describe herself as ugly when all that your eyes saw was excellence.
Without hesitation you carefully removed your underwear, garnering Wanda’s undying trust. She whimpered slightly when she saw your full nakedness, giving you the power to take off her own pair down her luscious legs. There was a golden Star of David which hung around her neck, one that she refused to take off ever since she was a child – her parents had given her one, another silver necklace for Pietro.
“Relax, baby,” you muttered towards her, leaning in to graze your lips against her chest. Kissing between the valley of her breasts, you allowed yourself to explore her entirely. “Thank you for trusting me.” you grabbed one of her hands, squeezing tight as you alternated between both soft mounds to place kisses on. “If at any point you want to stop, tell me. Don’t forget that, okay?”
“‘Kay,” she husked out. “Now get to it. I don’t like being teased, detka.”
“Impatient, how cute.”
Wanda was flushed against your body, her own reacting in the most adorable ways imaginable. Nipples stood hard and proud for you as your tongue swirled upon them. Leaving wet trails of saliva behind you, you made sure to give them both the similarly delicious treatment. While you lightly sucked on a hardened bud, the other was pinched and tugged lovingly.
“Fuck, that feels good,” Wanda moaned, back arching at the warm feeling she had never experienced in her life. A confusing wetness formed between her legs, aching as she rubbed her thighs together. “Oh Y/N…”
“Beautiful,” you said against the swell of her breast, kissing the stretch marks you found. “You’re a fucking goddess.”
Fingers began teasing her cunt, loving the dripping mess it had become for mere minutes of foreplay. Wanda adorably mewled in response. She wasn’t used to being so aroused, not even all by herself. Folds were parted as you traveled up and down her slit. When you so much as found her clit with a mere touch, she nearly lost it.
You dipped inside, unable to keep the desperation you felt to yourself. Wanda was hot against you. She wasn’t sure how to react, instead alternating between gripping the bed sheets and scratching at your skin. Slight tenderness caught her by surprise. Even in the times previous to having the children, Vis had never treated her in such a way. But then again, she couldn’t dare compare the two of you. Either way you’d come out on top.
The sole finger of yours twitched within Wanda’s velvety walls which hugged you tightly. It explored the unknown, coated entirely by slick juices and love. You sloshed it slightly, smirking against your lover’s skin as wet sounds filled your ears. She was an unbelievable mess, slightly tight given how tense she was – although after reassurances whispered hotly by her ear, the redhead found it in herself to take a deep breath and melt against the bed.
“I can take more,” she admitted. Her hips sloppily moved against your own slow thrusts, urging you to go faster. Never had she longed for someone so deeply. Wanda hugged you close with a newfound sense of confidence. Her lips found your own, kissing you hard with the utmost amount of love she silently threw your way. “Come on, b'shert. Give me all you got. I want it all,” she slid her tongue against your own, never daring to break eye-contact. “I. Want. You.”
It was enough to release the monster from deep inside. Although you refused to harm her, you slipped a second finger inside her hole, filling her cunt up with digits that urged to bring her to the brink of an orgasm.
“Yeah, that’s it. There’s my good baby.” Wanda’s nipples crept upon your skin. She met your own movements with phlegmatic ones, legs wrapping themselves around your midsection. “I don’t think I’ll last long, sweetheart. Oh honey!”
Surely the last time she dared receive such immense pleasure was beneath her. You curled your fingers deep inside Wanda once she had adjusted to them, thumb circling her clit. She fell apart in your arms that held her tight, swearing loudly in the three languages she knew for the entire borough to hear.
You let her relax for a few seconds, kissing her flushed face, mouthing only the sweetest compliments. “You did so well for me, Wanda. Such a good girl.”
Those words brought her a surge of happiness she had long wished to own. She couldn’t help but smile against you, eyes droopy with adoration as your fingers remained deep within her slick, puffy cunt.
Without a word you began drifting down. Her confusion was clear, but she refused to question you as you placed your kisses all over the rolls upon her stomach, the swollen tummy being adored without a hint of hatred.
Wanda let out a strangled sob as you casually flicked your tongue over her pussy. She had never experienced that, always the same monotone sex with Vision who didn’t dare venture down as you did. The feeling of your mouth upon her dripping slit was far too enjoyable for her to ever wish to let go.
“You taste amazing,” you told her, already drunk on her flavor. “So fucking good.”
That night you didn’t stop until Wanda was a slumped, ragged mess over the bed. She cried to be allowed to return the favor, but with her exhausted voice and heavy eyelids, you couldn’t ask for anything. Instead you picked her up and dragged her to the bathroom, cleaning her up, allowing her to rest against you as you changed the sheets, and kissing her forehead to sleep.
It wasn’t the first night you felt love for Wanda, but it would be the last you left it unspoken.
｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡
On the night of Christmas Eve, you swung around to save the day.
Vis had urged the twins to visit him on that day rather than Christmas, leaving the small children to agree upon the promise of candy and half of their gifts being opened a day early. Although Wanda disapproved, knowing it was her day with the boys, she didn’t dare fight it. After all, their joy over seeing their father couldn’t be dissuaded. Whatever issues she had with her ex-husband were between the two of them, never daring to involve Billy and Tommy who reeked with innocence.
To say she was surprised to find you throwing one of her windows open and jumping through it would be an understatement. She had settled on a date with her television and leftover chocolates she had laying around the house, perhaps some wine to tone down her sadness. The apartment was horribly quiet without two little menaces running around and begging to be fed nothing but greasy, fast-food.
“Sorry I’m late! I swear I must’ve swung across the whole fucking city just to get you these,” you exasperated, closing the window behind you as you shook off some snow from your covered body. “But I’m here!”
A break had to be taken from patrolling, instead letting the cops take over for a night as you and your newfound protégé, Miles who volunteered at M.I.L.E. alongside Peter’s aunt May, his mom having run for city council and won, a father who you once attempted to save but failed, also spent his Christmas Eve alongside family and friends. Eventually you’d tell Wanda about him, but not until you were sure he’d be a good fit – child endangerment was not something you took lightly.
Your girlfriend frowned at you, more importantly the object upon your hands. She rose from the couch and, to her dismay, ignored her floor being drenched with melted snow. She placed her wine down on the coffee table and walked towards you. “Are those…babka rolls?”
“Yeah! I tried recreating this recipe I found online, but then I got too carried away wrapping your gifts,” you used a hand to point behind you, backpack filled with gifts that overflowed. It was the perfect time to remove the warm beanie and earmuffs that shielded you from the cold, given how warm Wanda’s apartment was. “I nearly set the apartment on fire. Peter Googled a few places for me and, uh, I may have used my Spidey status to get this dude to make it for you.”
“What did it cost?”
“A selfie and video to send to his friends,” you mumbled. It wasn’t that you didn’t love taking pictures with the public, of course you did. But all that adorned your body was one of your old, beat up suits you merely carried around to cover yourself from the freezing weather. The fancier ones were saved for heroic work and better encounters with people. “Maybe an autograph too.”
You didn’t notice Wanda was in such close proximity until she urged you to drop the babka rolls on the coffee table beside her half-full glass of wine with silent hands.
“Take off your mask,” Wanda breathlessly ordered. You did as you were told, setting down the wrapped babka along with several horribly-adorned presents. When standing up straight, your mask off and thrown to the side, your girlfriend didn’t hesitate to lean in. Hands tenderly cupped your freezing cheeks, but she didn’t care. Having you close was good enough for Wanda. “I love you.”
Nothing could ever keep the thousand-watt smile from forming upon your face. You didn’t care that you were covered in snow, that your heavy boots Wanda had urged you to wear left wet trails as they stomped across her hardwood floors. All you could think about was her – pulling Wanda as close and ever to take her lips hostage.
“I love you too,” was all you said upon pulling away much to your disappointment. “Like, so fucking much. It’s kind of crazy how much I love you actually.”
“Hmm I’m glad, baby.”
Wanda nuzzled herself against you, ignoring the wetness from your suit and coat – she was glad to know you at least stuck to her pleas of keeping warm. She held you tight as though you’d leave by the following day, but until she told you otherwise, you’d spent all your waking time beside the woman you adored.
“So, uh, I brought a few DVDs,” you said. “I know it’s old fashioned, but I thought we could hook up the twins’ PlayStation in the living room’s television to watch Home Alone.”
“I would love that.” Wanda placed a kiss on your chest, most importantly over the spider crest that lay there. “My little spiderling. Please tell me you at least brought a change of clothes. Although you know I’ve been keeping extras just for you. And maybe Santa has brought you something for you to have here.”
“Yeah?”
“Maybe,” she teased. “Perhaps someday you won’t have to leave anymore. And we could make this…permanent.”
“I would love that.” Hugging her close, you promised to forever love and care for her, for her sanity, her children, and anything she desired. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Wanda stooped up to kiss you again, this time lingering upon your freezing lips carrying nothing but amour and desire. “Now go take a shower, sweetheart. You smell like a sewer rat. Get yourself all warmed up. I need my cuddle buddy.”
“Anything for you, Dr. Maximoff.”
Without the kids she was miserable, but her misery turned to happiness with you by her side. Wanda was thrilled to not only fall asleep with you hugging her tight from behind, but also awake to find herself half on top of you, face nuzzled against your chest. Although she had never officially celebrated Christmas let alone for her children’s sake, she could surely get used to a very excited superhero tearing open gifts and flashing them towards her.
As you stared back at Wanda that morning, promising that your gifts were for her own celebrations and not Christmas, you noticed the similarities between the scarlet wrapping paper and her hair. It was then you realized that loving Wanda, holding her heart in your hands, would forever be red.
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