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MDNI 18+
G!P Alpha!Natasha x Omega!Reader
Requested
Summary: Natasha doesn't think twice about it, little does she know that it's so much more than that
Warnings: smut, P in V, A/B/O themed
W.C: 3.3K
A.N: Guys... hi... I've been two weeks off, for many reasons. However, if it is to any relief, I'm almost finished with the next part of Phone Girl and another WandaNat X Reader. I also, quite literally, have 10 unifinished drafts... I wrote this with a week apart so the pace and wording might be off, idk, I didn't really read through it heheh...
The first time Natasha noticed it, she didn’t think much of it. You were always like that.
Always playful, teasing and a little too close.
A little too soft when you spoke, your voice dipping just enough to make people lean in without realizing it.
It wasn’t new.
You did it to everyone.
That’s what she told herself.
The Avengers compound was quieter than usual. It was evening and most of the team had either gone out or buried themselves in their own corners of the building.
It left the common room open, dimly lit, the soft hum of distant machinery filling the space.
Natasha sat on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, a book resting in her hand.
She looked focused. Calm. Controlled.
Or at least she had been, until you walked in. Your presence hit her before she even looked up.
Omega.
Soft and warm.
Familiar in a way that settled somewhere under her skin than around it, something instinctive and quiet that made her jaw tighten ever so slightly.
She didn’t react, didn’t look.
And certainly didn’t give herself away.
You padded into the room like you belonged there. Your eyes found her immediately, they always did.
Your gaze lingered. Not just passed over her, not casual, not thoughtless, but intentional. Like you were looking at her, not just in her direction.
Her fingers stilled slightly against the page.
She didn’t look up right away.
Didn’t give you that satisfaction.
‘’Still hiding in here?’’
Your voice was light, teasing–but softer than usual, like it was meant just for her.
Natasha exhaled quietly through her nose before finally lifting her gaze.
‘’You say that like I’m avoiding something.’’
Your lips curved.
‘’Someone,’’ you correct gently.
That shouldn’t have affected her.
But it did.
You moved around the couch, your fingers dragging lightly along the back before you stopped behind her, close enough that your presence pressed into her space.
Natasha’s shoulders tightened slightly.
She didn’t move away.
“Careful,” she said, her voice dropping just a fraction. “People might start thinking you’re looking for something.”
You leaned in just enough for your hand to settle against her shoulder, warm and grounding, your thumb brushing once—slow, deliberate.
“Maybe I already found it.”
The contact was light.
But it wasn’t nothing.
Natasha felt it travel further than it should have, settling somewhere low and unwelcome. Her grip tightened faintly around the book as your touch lingered, then shifted—your fingers sliding from her shoulder down along her arm, slow enough that it couldn’t be accidental.
Her breath changed.
Just slightly.
“You do this to everyone?” she asked, quieter now, though the tension in her voice betrayed her.
Your hand paused near her wrist, your thumb brushing lightly over the inside of it, right where her pulse sat steady beneath your touch.
“Do what?” you murmured.
She didn’t answer.
Didn’t need to.
Her body had already gone still under your hand, controlled but far too aware of where you were touching her.
So you leaned closer.
Close enough that your chest almost brushed her back, your breath warm against her ear.
“You get like this every time I’m near you,” you said softly. “All quiet… like you’re trying not to react.”
Natasha’s eyes slipped closed for half a second.
Just a second.
But it was enough.
Her jaw tightened as she exhaled slowly, like she was forcing herself back into control.
“You’re imagining things,” she said.
You hummed softly, your fingers tightening just slightly around her wrist—not restraining, just holding, keeping her there with you.
‘’I am,’’ a playful smirk fell onto your lips, ‘’I’m imagining you and me on this couch. Alone.’’
Natasha stiffened.
‘’You’ve got a body I’ve heard a lot about...’’
She shifted, and your hands drifted towards her shoulder, caressing the round edges of them.
You let out a hum in delight.
‘’You don’t let anyone touch you like this,’’ you say, your voice dipping lower, quieter. ‘’But you haven’t told me to stop.’’
You felt it in the way her breathing shifted again, deeper this time.
Slower.
Controlled but thinner.
‘’You’re pushing,’’ Natasha said under her breath.
‘’Say the word and tell me to behave,’’ you whisper softly, your lips brushing the shell of her ear. ‘’...but I don’t think you want me to.’’
This went on for far too long than either of you wanted to admit.
Long enough that it stopped feeling like a game.
Long enough that the air between you changed.
Natasha should’ve stopped you.
That was the problem.
She knew it.
Felt it in the way your fingers still rested against her wrist, in the way your breath kept brushing too close, in the way her body had gone completely still—not relaxed, not comfortable, but aware.
Too aware.
“You’re not subtle,” she said finally, her voice quieter now.
Rougher.
You smiled slightly against her ear.
“I’m not trying to be.”
She closed her eyes briefly.
‘’You’d take me so well, hm?’’
Natasha reached out for your cheek but you pulled away just in time.
She turned suddenly, fully, pulling you with her just enough that your balance shifted and you ended up standing between her knees. Her other hand came to your waist without hesitation, steadying you, holding you there.
Closer than before.
Closer than either of you had allowed.
Your breath caught, just slightly.
Your gaze flickered down for a second, taking in the way she was holding you—the firmness of her grip, the way her thumb pressed lightly into your side like she didn’t even realize she was doing it—before lifting back to her eyes.
“I think you’re not as in control as you want to be,” you said quietly.
Her fingers pressed in a little more, a subtle warning that didn’t actually push you away.
“You should stop,” she said.
But it didn’t sound like an order.
You didn’t move.
Didn’t step back.
Didn’t give her that out.
Instead, you leaned in just a fraction more, closing the already minimal distance between you.
“Make me,” you whispered.
Something in her expression shifted then, something sharp and instinctive breaking through the control she’d been holding onto all evening. Her grip tightened, not to restrain you—but to pull you closer.
That small movement was enough to send something warm and heavy settling low in your stomach.
Your hand moved without thinking, sliding from her shoulder up to the back of her neck, your fingers threading lightly into her hair. The contact was different now. Not teasing. Not playful.
Intentional.
Natasha let out a breath and moved away.
You bit your lip, your head lowered as you watched her walk away.
-///-
The next time it happened, it wasn’t quiet.
It wasn’t controlled.
And it definitely wasn’t just the two of you.
The common area was louder now, the rest of the team scattered around—voices overlapping, something playing faintly on the TV, the usual rhythm of people who had stopped being careful around each other a long time ago.
You were stretched out across the couch like you belonged there, one leg thrown over the armrest, absently listening to something Clint was saying.
Or pretending to.
Your attention drifted the second she walked in.
It always did.
Natasha didn’t look at you right away.
But you felt it—that subtle shift in her posture, the way her shoulders squared just slightly, like she’d already registered you without needing to see you.
You smiled faintly.
“Hey, Nat,” you called, voice light, easy.
Too easy.
Her gaze flickered to you briefly. Controlled. Neutral.
“Y/n.”
That was it.
That was all you got.
It should’ve been enough.
It wasn’t.
You sat up slowly, your movements unhurried, deliberate in a way that didn’t draw attention unless someone was already watching.
She was.
Of course she was.
You crossed the space between you without hesitation, stopping just close enough to step into her space—but not enough for anyone else to notice.
Casual. Familiar. Dangerous.
“You ignored me earlier,” you said, softer now.
Natasha didn’t react immediately. Didn’t step back either.
“I had things to do,” she replied.
You tilted your head slightly, studying her.
“Mm. Didn’t seem that urgent.”
Her jaw tightened faintly.
“You’re making assumptions again.”
“Am I?” you murmured.
Your hand lifted, brushing lightly against her arm like it was nothing—like it wasn’t deliberate, like it didn’t linger just a second too long.
She went still.
Again.
Always like that.
And you leaned in just slightly, your voice dropping just enough to stay between the two of you.
“You left pretty quickly,” you added. “Almost like you needed space.”
Her gaze snapped to yours.
Sharp.
Your eyes trailing slowly down her body, landing on her lap, then up to her eyes again.
“That’s not what that was.”
You smiled softly, knowing and with a tilt to your head.
“You sure?”
A beat.
The noise around you faded—not actually, but enough that it didn’t matter.
Natasha’s hand moved before she seemed to think about it, fingers closing briefly around your wrist.
Not pulling you away, not drawing you closer.
Just there.
A warning.
“You don’t stop,” she said quietly.
Your pulse jumped under her touch, yet you didn’t pull away.
“Do you want me to?” you asked.
And that—
That was the problem.
Because for a second—
A very brief, dangerous second—
She hesitated.
Her grip tightened just slightly before she let go, like she’d caught herself doing something she shouldn’t.
You pressed closer, ‘’I bet you’d ruin me for everyone else… I’d feel you a week later, still craving you and your…’’ you glanced down, then up, smiling with mischief. ‘’You know.’’
She blinked.
‘’You wouldn’t let me forget who I belong to.’’
“Go bother someone else,” she said.
Dismissive.
Too quick.
You leaned in just a fraction more, close enough that your shoulder brushed hers as you passed, your voice soft against her ear.
“I don’t want someone else.”
That slipped out.
Too real.
Too quiet.
Too easy to ignore.
Natasha didn’t turn around to stop you, didn’t acknowledge it.
And that was worse than anything else.
Because she still didn’t see it.
Still thought it was just you being you.
Still thought none of it meant anything.
-///-
Natasha moving swiftly around the kitchen, breakfast almost ready.
Then she felt your presence.
Fuzzy socks, an oversized t-shirt you stole from her and lace panties.
She didn’t look at you, she didn’t dare.
You moved up behind her, your head falling onto her shoulder.
‘’Good morning, pretty,’’ you muttered, your hands coming around her waist.
Natasha smirked, “careful. You’re starting to sound like you need it.”
You smirk lazily, your hot breath falling against her neck.
She closed her eyes briefly, taking in a breath she couldn’t control.
‘’What’s the matter?’’ you say, pressing yourself further into her. ‘’Getting distracted?’’
She doesn’t say anything, only continuing to place cheese on her pieces of bread.
In just a few movements, you were in front of her, blocking her from her food.
‘’Hey–’’
You couldn’t help but laugh, wiggling your ass against her crotch as you took a bite of her bread slice.
Natasha’s hands found your hips faster than she could think, grip tightening just enough to ground herself—just enough to feel you.
‘’Don’t do that.’’
‘’Do what?’’ you asked innocently, turning around.
You looked down, a faint blush covering your cheeks.
‘’You respond well,’’ you mumble, more to yourself than to her. ‘’...very well.’’
Natasha rolled her eyes, pushing you gently aside so she could resume her breakfast.
You moved behind her again, hands low over her hips.
‘’Y/n…’’ “I think about your desk constantly. Me on top of it, you between my legs…” you murmured, your voice soft, but heavier—less teasing, more certain. ‘’Or better, me on top of you like I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.’’
Natasha’s jaw tightening hard enough to ache, a quiet, almost inaudible growl catching in her throat before she swallowed it back down.
Not subtly this time.
Completely.
Her hand tightened around the knife before she even seemed aware of it.
For a second, she didn’t say anything. Didn’t move.
You pressed further, ‘’fuck, I’d moan your name loudly. All I’d remember would be you, Alpha.’’
Natasha didn’t answer, only moved.
Fast.
Her position changed, pushing you back in one clean motion until your spine met the counter behind you. The movement was controlled, precise—but there was nothing casual about it.
Your breath caught.
Hard.
She followed immediately, closing the distance before you could even think about stepping away, her hand locked at your waist, the other against the overhead kitchen cabinets beside your head.
Trapping you.
Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, a sharp inhale, your hands instinctively catching onto her arms, steadying yourself—or holding on.
Natasha’s gaze dropped for just a second, like she was taking in the way you’d gone still under her, the way your breath had changed.
Then back to your eyes.
Dark and focused.
“You’d like that?” she asked, her voice low, edged with something that wasn’t quite control anymore.
It wasn’t a tease.
It wasn’t soft.
It was a challenge.
Your throat tightened and for the first time since you’d started this you didn’t answer immediately.
Your lips parted slightly, but nothing came out.
And she noticed, of course she did.
Her head tilted just slightly, her expression shifting into something sharper, something almost amused—but not soft.
“Speechless now?” she murmured.
Her hand tightened at your waist again, pulling you just a fraction closer—not enough to be obvious, but enough that you felt it everywhere.
Your breath stuttered. That wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to be in control of this.
Not her.
Not like this.
“I—” you started, but your voice came out thinner than you meant it to, your grip tightening slightly on her arms.
Natasha’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. Not understanding. Not realization.
Just reaction. Pure instinct.
“You talk a lot,” she said quietly. “Thought you’d have more to say.”
Your jaw tightened slightly, something stubborn flaring up even as your body stayed exactly where it was—pinned, held, not moving away.
“I do,” you managed, your voice softer now, less steady than before. “Just… depends what you do with it.”
That made her pause.
Just for a second.
Her gaze dropped again—brief, controlled—but you caught it this time.
The way her attention flickered.
The way her grip didn’t loosen.
“You push everyone like this?” she asked.
Your expression shifted just slightly, but enough.
“No,” you said.
Simpler this time.
No teasing.
No edge.
Just truth.
Her brows pulled together faintly, like she didn’t quite believe it—or didn’t want to.
You lean in like always—but this time your voice isn’t playful.
It’s quieter. Needier.
Less performance.
‘’Ruin me in your office, Natasha… I wouldn’t care if anyone heard me, just knowing I’d be claimed by you is all I need.’’
Something in her expression changed—but this time it didn’t pass.
It stayed.
Her grip loosened just slightly, not letting you go, just… recalibrating.
Her eyes searched your face—not your body, not your mouth, not the way you pressed into her—your face.
Your eyes.
Like she was looking for the joke and not finding it.
“You’re serious.”
Not a question.
Something quieter. Rougher.
Your breath hitched, but you didn’t look away this time.
“I’ve only ever been serious about you.”
She didn’t say anything else.
Just grabbed your wrist—firm, unyielding—and pulled.
You stumbled after her, breath uneven, pulse racing for a completely different reason now.
The hallway felt too long. Too quiet.
Every step sharpened something in the air between you.
You could feel it in the way her grip didn’t loosen.
In the way she didn’t look back.
Like if she did—
she wouldn’t stop.
“Natasha—”
“Don’t,” she cut in, voice low. Controlled—but barely.
“Not unless you’re going to say it again.”
Your throat went dry.
“…I meant it.”
That was all it took.
Her grip tightened.
-///-
‘’Your scent is strong, Omega,’’ Natasha mumbles, fingers tracing the line of your panties.
You’re sprawled across her dark wooden desk, your bare back arching against unfinished reports.
Natasha stood between your legs, topless, her crotch pressing into yours.
Heated. Needy.
‘’Natasha, I–’’
‘’Shh,’’ her voice dipped lower, her thumb rubbing lightly over your clothed clit.
Her hand didn’t just touch you—it settled, like it belonged there.
You gasped, ‘’fuck, Natasha… again, please.’’
The movement of her thumb continued, eyes watching your face the whole time.
Your head landed on the edge of her desk with a soft thud, your mouth opening slightly at her gentle touch.
‘’Claim me, Alpha, please,’’ you begged, the words slurring into a moan.
Natasha removed her thumb, pressing herself closer, leaning over you.
Her touch was dominant yet gentle.
Exactly what your body needed.
Your scent hit her harder this time—thicker, harder to ignore.
Natasha couldn’t wait any longer.
She needed you.
Now.
She unbuttoned her pants, not bothering to pull it off herself completely.
Her boxer came down next, her dick bouncing up to her stomach.
‘’You’re–fuck–’’ you bit your lip at the sight of her.
Natasha smirked, stroking herself as she looked at your soaking panties.
She pushed it aside with a finger, almost moaning at the sight.
‘’You’ve been dreaming of this, haven’t you?’’
You blush, bucking your hips involuntarily.
Her tip presses against you, making you whimper.
It doesn’t take long until you’re filled to the brim by her unexpected size.
The wet, rhythmic slap of skin on skin became obscenely loud in the quiet room.
Her green eyes found yours.
Glazed and desperate.
A sharp gasp tore from your lips.
‘’fuck, fuck, faster,’’ you slurred, hands finding hers.
A wicked, knowing grin spread across Natasha’s face.
She slowed her thrusts to a brutal, teasing grind, drawing a broken sound from your throat.
“Say it again… what you wanted me to do to you.”
‘’Don’t hold back, Natasha… I can’t– I–’’
‘’Don’t fall apart on me now.’’
You let out a soft whimper, moaning as she hits deep inside you.
She grunted, the sound rumbling low in her chest, ‘’keep making those sounds and I won’t stop.’’
The sound that escapes you is raw, guttural, and completely unrestrained, bouncing off the walls as your body convulses against the desk.
‘’Yes! Please, Alpha!’’
Natasha’s control snapped, her own composure shattering as she began to fuck you in earnest, sharp, deep pistons of her hips that made the desk screech against the floor.
‘’Yes! God, yes, right there!’’
Your cries climbed higher, a frantic chant of ‘yes, yes, yes’ until it all melted into a wordless, shuddering wail as you came.
Natasha continued, not slowing down.
‘’Fuck– it’s too much!’’ you gasp, eyes going wide as you try to sit up.
Natasha pins you down with a firm hand on your shoulder.
‘’You asked for this,’’ she pants.
Your back arches, ‘’Nat–’’
You choke on her name, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. ‘’Oh, God!’’
Natasha arches her back, a harsh groan ripping from her chest as she presses her forehead to your shoulder.
Her release rolled through her in visible waves.
For a long moment, the only sound in the room was your ragged breathing.
Neither of you moved.
Not right away.
Natasha stayed where she was, forehead still resting against your shoulder, like pulling away would break something she hadn’t fully understood yet.
“…you’re my soulmate,” she said, quieter this time.
You smile, sitting up, ‘’took you long enough.’’
That finally gets a reaction out of her. A faint exhale, almost a laugh.
She kisses you again—quick, firm, like she can’t help herself this time.
When she breaks it, she steadies you with a hand before slowly shifting back, regaining her posture with deliberate control.
Like she’s forcing herself not to lose it completely.
‘’Done already?’’ you tease, legs spread.
She raises a brow, fixing your panties.
‘’We’re moving,’’ she said simply, ‘’somewhere more comfortable location.’’