“What’d you say to me?” Natasha’s eyes sparkle as she backs your frame up into the living room. Her nails are caked and packed with dirt, her knuckles absorbing oil between the folds of her skin like a sponge. She’d spent the morning out in the driveway working on Wanda’s car. The white Lincoln she’d just taken for a trip down the coast to Florida had needed an oil change amongst other things you hadn’t cared enough to acknowledge, but the efforts of Natasha’s labor cling to the cotton of her tank top and bead down the flushed skin of her face.
Your cheeks puff out, your hands held in front of your chest defensively. “You stink.” The acknowledgement falls off your lips with the same brazen dismay as before. “Don’t you fucking dare!” You squeal, jumping up onto the couch cushions as she steps closer to you menacingly. “Natasha, I swear to god, I will— No! No, you stink! You’re dirty!”
Your heads thrown back in laughter the second her strong biceps loop around your waist and pick you up effortlessly. You can’t remember the last time you felt her crawl out of bed to escape to the gym for arm day, but the flex of her muscle against the warm skin of your belly as her possessive grabbing eases up the hem of your shirt is disorienting. She’s cut. Buff. All the words she says to herself in the mirror with a whacky grin after showering. You don’t know which she’d prefer, which would best encapsulate how your core clenches at the feel of them against your skin so possessively, so you say them all.
“Say it again!” She depends, wrestling your back against her front, unapologetically grinding her hips into your ass as her hands adjust around your midsection to grab your breasts in a tight told. It’s a flawless move, a motion she’s probably thought about countless times. Your breath is swept away from you as her fingers tease your unconcealed nipples before they squeeze you tighter around the middle, one arm looping around your neck in a chokehold that makes your vision spin. Her fingers dig into your ribcage, making your squirm, making you squeal; forcing you to press harder into her ass, to feel the strap she’d been packing since grabbing the oil stained towel Wanda makes her keep on the very bottom shelf of the linen closet. “Say it again!”
“Y-You! Ah, N-Nat!” You squeal as she shuffles behind you, “O-Oh!” Your head falls back against the pit of her armpit as she pins you to her chest, your hips grinding against something that definitely wasn’t a strap-on. “W-Why the hell are you… are you carrying?”
Natasha doesn’t answer, nor allow you to see the way she smirks and quirks an eyebrow like she knew you’d question that eventually and couldn’t wait. She doesn’t wait to hear you question again, spinning you onto the couch and pinning your body between hers and the cushions, your face turned to the side for air only because that’s how you’d fallen.
The weight of her on top of you presses the strap and the gun firmer into your skin. You can’t escape the way she smells like sweat and sunscreen, or the smears of oil across your own body now.
“Tell me it turns you on!” She grins, biting down on your neck as she grinds the strap into your ass. “Tell me it turns you on and I’ll let you shower with me!”
“It turns me on!” You laugh, her fingers starting to probe into your ribcage again.
a/n: the header took me forever and im still not sure i like it so please be nice. also first time writing primal play and though i tried to do enough research idk if this is terribly inaccurate so i apologize in advance lmao
summary: you and nat try primal play on accident
warnings: smut (penetration/p in v), primal play, unprotected sex, kinda exhibitionism ig are you tired of this tag yet, nat being an ass, blood, alcohol
word count: 4.2k
It's the third time her hand has slipped under your bikini. It was resting on your lower thigh at first, fingers brushing just underneath the snug fabric. Her palm, warm and a little rough against your skin. Lake water clinging to everything.
Nobody notices. They don't really care. It's a hot, humid summer night. They're preoccupied with getting rid of all the beer before it gets warm. Still, a few eyes turn your way when you start mumbling at each other.
"Third time's the charm", she whispers. You look at her, eyebrows kinked. "Don't give me that look."
"Why not?", you whisper back. "That's all it takes, huh?"
She licks her lips. It's been a long day. You got here in the afternoon — you walked around for an hour to find a nice, somewhat secluded spot. You rolled logs so they'd be closer to the shore. You all went into the water to watch the sun dip below the horizon.
You're not watching anymore. You've slowly moved closer to her, wading deeper into the lake, pressing up against her with your hands linked behind her neck.
Her fingers tap against your ass. She doesn't know what she's hoping for, really — that you'll have sex with her, right then and there, while surrounded by your friends? Surely not. She'll have to wait until you're inside your tent.
"Let's get out of the water", she says, her nose pressed against your forehead. "It's getting late."
"It's, like, 8pm."
A weekend by the lake. It was a collective effort, an idea pitched by Wanda during a movie night. You were watching a comedy movie from your childhood, one you all remember fondly. With none of you being financially equipped to buy a lake house (except for Tony, who stood his ground when saying no), you decided to do the next best thing: dig out your old tents and drive to the nearest lake.
"That is late", she argues. Her voice dips a little more. "I'm going to lick you dry, just so you know."
You scoff and splash a handful of water at her. She laughs and pulls you in again, tasting sweet and a little earthy when she kisses you.
You do eventually make it out of the water. You're shivering, and Natasha grabs her vintage Knicks hoodie to put it on you. The campfire is still lit, crackling and lighting up the surrounding patch of sand.
"To warm up", Clint says, passing around a flask. "Who's helping me with my tent?"
You sip on the liquor, leaning into Natasha's side. "Not us", she says. "We got our own to put up."
"We?", he repeats. "You're staying in the same tent?"
You smirk against the mouth of the flask. The last time you did something like this — spend the night cramped into Steve's tiny dorm — you woke everyone up. Surprise, you got kicked out, too.
"Oh, come on", Natasha grins. "When we talked about coming here, you sounded very excited about the 'sounds of nature.' Don't complain now."
"Romanoff..."
Wanda, who's sprawled out on the ground with her head resting against a damp log, lightly nudges his ankle. He glances at her with his eyebrows knitted together. She doesn't really mind your antics — she brought her headphones for that reason — and she doesn't see why anyone should start bickering over that, either.
"Why are you surprised?", Natasha asks. "It's not like Laura and you will be practicing chastity all night."
"She's right", Laura remarks.
"See?"
At this point, he's had enough. He makes a dismissive motion with his hand and steals back his flask again, downing the last bit of whiskey that was in there. It'll be a long night.
You get up half an hour later. Steve is still poking at the campfire, and Wanda is trying to convince Daisy to ditch her own tent and sleep in hers. You watch Natasha dig through the stack of tents until she finds the one you brought.
"Need help with that?", you ask, tilting your head and twirling a strand of hair around your finger.
"I got it", she says, heaving it over her shoulder. "Where do we put it?"
"Somewhere private!", Clint shouts. You shoot a smirk his way before turning towards her again.
"Right there", you say, guiding her closer to the grass. "Bet you can't set up our tent before everyone else."
Natasha's ears perk up. She likes a challenge, unfortunately. At the same time, she knows you're planning something. Maybe get a rise out of her one way or another. She'll fall for it, anyway.
She adjusts the tent over her shoulder deliberately to flex her arms a little. "You're doubting me?"
"Me?", you drawl, watching her set it down in the spot you picked. "Never. Not unless you give me a reason to doubt you."
She gives you a look. Her hair is all natural from the lake, the worn hoodie with the sleeves rolled up. You're definitely planning something. She has no idea what that'd be, though.
"Funny. Hand me a pole."
Whatever you're doing — it's working. You can tell by the way she's starting to rub her eyebrows. "Is it?", you ask, blindly handing her a pole.
You can't help yourself. Nothing can top the kind of sex you have when she's just a little ticked off. One time, she drove her car against the wall while backing up into a parking lot. That was right after she picked it up from the mechanic, too. You remember that night vividly.
"I think that's the wrong pole", she says, looking at the instructions and swatting at a bug.
"I think I had the wrong pole inside me last night."
Nothing except gritted teeth and the sound of cicadas. The sun has gone down, and all that's left to light up the area surrounding the lake is the campfire and a few LED lamps you brought along. She puts the instructions aside, with a bit more force this time, and keeps working on the tent.
The tension in her shoulders seems to dissipate the moment the tent is set up in front of her. She tosses your sleeping bags inside and motions for you to lay down.
"After you", she says, kneeling to watch you crawl in. You plop down on your stomach. "Comfy?"
"Can't complain."
"Wait 'til I get out the air mattress", she promises, crawling above you. Her hand palms your ass, and she leans in to kiss your shoulder. "So, did I do it? The tent thing?"
"Huh? Oh, no. I saw Steve get done with his, like, two minutes before you."
She groans with her mouth against your skin. Oh well — at least you've made it into the tent. You can still hear the fire crackle outside, the cicadas. You smell the lake water clinging to everything. You're so so close to her too, in one of her hoodies and tiny soft shorts. Before she can do anything about the arousal that's starting to flood her, you disappear from underneath her.
She blinks, but you're outside the tent already. "Y/N, don't play with me."
"Think I'm that easy?", you retort. She emerges from the tent. "Put some effort in, babe."
"What? I told you I'd get out the air mattress", she complains. "Come back inside."
Her hand reaches for you, but you make a smooth move backwards. Her eyebrows furrow.
"Come on", she says.
"Can't catch me?", you tease. Clenching her jaw, she takes a step forward. "I thought you were so big and strong and fast."
Natasha loves you. That's why she joined this camping trip. She loves you, and she wants to have sex before falling into what's supposed to be the best sleep of her life. Yet here you are, making her walk in circles around the tent like an idiot.
Another step. She grazes your wrist, you jump back, and a harsh breath escapes her. You're smiling, which is only adding to her frustration. It's fun for you.
She tries not to let her patience wear thin, but it isn't easy. You hop backwards, making her miss your arm by a fraction of an inch. At this point, everyone has disappeared into their tents. It's just you and her and the forest stretching out behind you.
"Y/N", she hisses. She speeds up, and so do you. "Stop being a brat!"
"Sounds like I'm in trouble", you say, eyes twinkling.
"You think?"
"Got a hunch."
You're still circling the tent like maniacs. There's a thought in the back of your mind, brief and barely registered, about how someone will probably get out to tell you to knock it off — but nothing happens, and Natasha darts forward again.
Her fingers catch your top, but they slip before they can get ahold of you. You let out a sound of surprise, and that's when it changes.
It's like a light switch being flipped. Something dark flashes in her eyes, unexpected enough to startle you. You take a few quick steps backwards, she follows again, and suddenly, you leave the path you were following around the tent.
Neither of you even consider stopping. Leaves and sticks crunch underfoot as you start paving your way into the forest. There's no bonfire here, no LED lamps — only the moonlight dapples the ground with patches of milky light.
You're both running now. You let out a breathless laugh when she curses behind you, but the sound turns more panicked when you almost trip over a root.
There's no need for fear, right? Nothing about this is unsafe. It's Natasha. You know her better than anyone else. You'd trust her with your life. But out here, surrounded by tall trees and darkness, even the knowledge she's following you makes your throat feel tighter.
She's hunting you. In this moment, you're prey. Blades of grass brush your ankles, a mosquito lands on your arm. Your heart is pounding against your ribs like a rabbit's. You were laughing at first, but you're too out of breath to do so now.
She clenches her jaw, the heavy fabric of her hoodie too in the way. She reaches for the bottom of it and tugs it off in one fluid motion. You're blurry in the darkness of the forest, your body being swallowed by the absence of light.
"You can't run forever!", she calls. You can tell she's close, maybe a couple feet away. You're not sure how she hasn't caught up yet — you're far from being able to outrun her.
"Shut up!", you reply, dodging a low hanging branch.
Natasha's gaining on you. You can't see her, can't even check on her, but you can hear her. She's getting closer and closer, and that's when she stumbles over an old tree trunk.
The laugh that comes out of you is exhilarated, foreign almost. Natasha curses.
"That's what you get!"
You do expect her to say something. She doesn't, and maybe that's worse. She knows she can catch up to you with ease, and you hear her footsteps become more frequent.
Slaloming through the trees, which grow denser as you go deeper into the forest. Fireflies lead the path. You slip once, twice, your heartbeat in your throat.
You don't notice how sweaty you are until her hands grab your waist.
Momentum catches you both. You hit the ground, Natasha tackling you, and your uneven breathing turns into a startled gasp. You stare up at her, dirt speckling your cheeks, trying to squirm away. It's a fruitless attempt. She's too heavy.
"Got you", she mumbles, her grip getting tighter.
You let out a breathless noise, still fighting back. Your hands press against her chest, but she's stronger, bigger. The feeling of her fingernails scraping at your sides gives you goosebumps.
"Fuck you!", you hiss, grasping at her tank top and pushing her away. Trying to push her away — it's like attempting to move a mountain.
Do you even want her gone? Not judging by the dampness between your legs, the warmth balling deep in your belly. You try to ignore it. It's desperate and hopeless.
"Stop that!" She grunts, one hand wrapping around your wrist. The other is on your hip, keeping you pressed against the uneven ground.
You can see the sweat on her thick biceps. Your racing thoughts stumble for a split second — she was in a hoodie just moments ago, wasn't she? — but you don't dwell on it. You slash your fingernails across her face and she lets out a pained groan.
"Are you insane?", she barks. Her fingers curl into your hip, nails sinking deep into soft skin, and that's when you moan. She stares down at you, still half breathless.
"Do you ever shut up?", you snap back, bucking your hips in another attempt to get her off you.
She rolls over instead, tugging you right along, and you knock your knee deep into her side. Little twigs crack, there's a noise somewhere in the distance, one you can't identify, and Natasha lets go of your wrists.
It's disappointing, oddly enough. You stare down at her, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted. That's when she grabs the front of your hoodie, eyes locked with yours, and that's when you both realize.
It was a chase at first. It's a game now, and you're both silently trying to figure out whether the other understands. You're not even sure you know what you're getting yourself into — role playing isn't uncharted territory for you, but this is new.
You couldn't back out if you wanted to, anyway. Natasha's hard, an aching throb in her sweatpants. She's trying to catch her breath, which should've happened minutes ago. You're soaked, not just from the lake water now, and you're grinding against her. You're both too far into this to stop.
Her hand reaches up to the back of your head, fisting hair and pulling you down. Lips and teeth clash, your nails scrape down her chest, and she flips you over.
"Want to run again?", she pants, mouth on your jaw. Her teeth drag lower, all the way to your neck. "Come on, go and run. Watch me catch you again."
You shake your head. Her breath is hot against your skin, her body heavy on yours. "I'll run. Good luck."
She laughs, her fingers fumbling with the waistband of her sweatpants. "Aw, look at you. I think you want to be caught."
You lean in, teeth sinking into her firm shoulder. Her voice drifts into a low moan, one hand wrapped around the bulge inside her boxers.
You take off your hoodie. Your bra, too. Natasha leans in open mouthed, her tongue pressing against your nipple before sucking it into her mouth. You taste like lake water, and though she didn't fulfill her promise of licking it off you earlier, she does her best to make up for it now.
Your back arches, shoving more of your breast into her mouth. Her teeth graze your nipple. She pants quietly and slides her hand down her erection, squeezing when she reaches the base. She's close to jerking herself off — too close — and you grab her face.
Clearly, you aren't thinking. She was biting down on your nipple ever so slightly, and when you move her face, her teeth clamp down on it a little too hard.
"Fuck", you moan loudly.
She scoffs, leaning down to press a kiss to it. "Shit. Need attention that badly?"
The look you give her doesn't faze her. Natasha laughs, her hand still inside her boxers, fingers sticky. She kisses the curve of your breast, and when your hand joins hers, her breath catches.
You stare at her, your hand sliding down and back up her shaft. "Were you planning on doing this without me?"
Natasha lets out a noise, her eyes locked with yours. "Does it look like it?"
"It better not. I can still leave."
She frowns at you, quickly searching your face. She doesn't believe you. No way in hell would you leave now, especially not when the way back to your friends leads through a dark, tangled forest.
She pushes your hand out of her boxers. Her fingers find the front of your shorts, starting to rub tight circles into it, and you let out a whiny breath.
"You don't mean that", she mutters, holding your wrist down with one hand. You rock from side to side, again trying to shake her off. "Y/N!"
"I told you I'm not that easy", you retort. Your free hand pushes against her chest, but she's heavy, solid, unmoving. "You're giving up?"
Natasha is pent up and out of breath. She's so hard it hurts, a dull pulse in her boxers. Your knee knocks against her ribs and she groans.
"Are you done?", she barks, wrestling your knee down with her own. Her hand finds your other wrist, pinning it down above your head as well.
Her hands are big enough, she realizes. She grasps both your wrists in one hand, her fingers wrapping around them tightly.
You let out a moan. She's taking off her pants with one hand, struggling to get the waistband over her erection. Then, her thick length springs free, and you feel a shiver run down your spine.
"Look at you", you mock, betrayed by your breathy voice. "Almost nutted in your pants? Haven't even really touched you yet."
Natasha bites her tongue. She glances up at you, her face reddened and a little sweaty, with red baby hairs sticking to her temples. She fumbles with your shorts, but your hips are in the way and the smooth fabric won't budge.
"You struggling?"
She doesn't say anything. Her hand grabs the waistband, tugging again. You watch her tip leak with frustration. It's your favorite little quirk.
"Need some help with that?", you purr.
Something snaps at your words. The fabric rips apart, courtesy of Natasha's impatience, and it takes your underwear with it. You let out a surprised noise, your thighs clenching and your skin heating up.
She’s too impatient to even try and wait. A calloused hand push your thigh aside, and she lines herself up with you before thrusting in deep. One thrust, deep and leaving no time to get adjusted, is enough to wipe every thought from your brain.
Your back arches. She curses and her head drops forward against your shoulder. Her hips roll against yours, fucking into you. You want to clutch her shoulders, run your nails down her back until she’s a bleeding mess, but her grip on your wrists hasn’t loosened, and desperate as you are, you sink your teeth into her neck.
It takes her off guard. Her hips stutter, and her hold on your wrists slackens for a split second. You pull free and run your nails down her back, a hum of satisfaction escaping you.
“Dammit”, she mutters, pounding into you. Your nails sink into taut muscle. “I swear to god, Y/N.”
You scoff, scratching along her back. She curses but never breaks pace, her chest slick with sweat. You can tell it’s starting to become painful, and it only spurs you on.
Manicured nails sink into taut even deeper. Natasha’s eyes shut. Continuing is a struggle and a necessity, and she finds the underside of your knee to shove your leg up and open you up more for her.
Your body jerks with each thrust. You claw at her back, drawing blood, and watch her eyebrows furrow. You wanted her ticked off — you might’ve pushed her a little too hard, though.
Her hand feels its way up your body, groping and squeezing flesh and curves. When her fingers find your nipple, she gives it a rough twist.
Your heart rate kicks up, every nerve ending humming. There’s nothing but silence surrounding you now. Every sound is amplified, every thrust is driving you closer to that edge. Natasha throbs hotly inside you, feeling heavy and swollen, and you grasp at her skin.
A rush of heat floods outwards. Natasha feels like she’s about to burst, like a shaken soda bottle, like she’s seconds from spilling all of herself inside you. Her head goes fuzzy, and the image of you beneath her when she opens her eyes doesn’t help.
Your mouths knock together. She palms at your breast, feeling the achingly stiff bud against her skin. You move one hand to her front to find her necklace and get a tight hold of it, and she moans against your tongue.
She comes in heavy, messy bursts. You squeeze her hips with your thighs, your own orgasm making your mind go blank. Everything feels hot — the leaf covered ground, her slick stomach pressed against yours, the cum dripping out of you.
It takes a moment for you to reel your mind back in. Sound, movement and color return, your thoughts become clear, and reality sinks back in. You look at Natasha and let out a quiet noise.
Drops of blood have dried on her face. You only realize now, with the adrenaline slowly ebbing down. You got her harder than you meant to. You give her a sweet little smile in hopes she won't notice you wiping it off with your thumb.
Natasha lets out a shaky breath, her neck drenched in sweat. She's covered in dirt — her biceps, her chest, skin speckled with mud. She's still inside you, too, not being bothered to pull out.
“See”, she mumbles, “I caught you.”
You huff and give her chest a shove. “Please. That was all luck.”
“Was not”, she retorts, pulling out of you. “Could’ve caught you jumping on one leg.”
You roll your eyes and prop yourself up on your forearms. You flick some dirt off your body. “How long did we stay out here?”
Natasha shrugs, scanning your surroundings. There’s no way to know what time it is. You both left your phones inside the tent, she realizes.
“Too long”, she says. “We should head back.”
You both get off the floor. You pick up the shorts she ripped apart, the underwear that’s now nothing but a few tiny, flimsy pieces of fabric. Natasha rubs her neck before taking off her sweatpants to give them to you.
“My back hurts”, she complains, checking herself. She rubs a hand down her spine and glances at it. “I’m bleeding, too. What the fuck, Y/N.”
You hum, putting your hands on your waist and making her turn around. The scratches are deep, long lines scattered across her sculpted back. You give her butt a pat.
“I have disinfectant in my purse”, you assure her. “Come on, let’s head back before we get lost.”
She shoots you a look but doesn’t say anything. You start to find your way back to the campsite, trying to spot things that seem familiar. A root that Natasha tripped over, a shrub of juneberries, a heart etched into a tree.
Finally, Natasha’s hoodie. She picks it up and makes you put it over your shoulders.
A few moments later, you see a tiny light at the other side of the forest. More lights join it, and the closer you get, the better you hear the voices accompanying them.
“There they are!”, Clint yells. “Are you guys insane?”
“Do you know how worried we were?”, Wanda adds. “You can’t just vanish into the wilderness! In the middle of the night, too!”
Natasha grimaces, her hand resting on your waist. You exchange a look before closing the last few feet separating you from the others.
“Sorry”, she says. “We didn’t think you’d, you know…notice.”
“You were quiet”, Clint grumbles. “Too quiet. Why are you bleeding?”
“Are you sure you want to know?”, you ask, voice sweet as sugar. He drags his hand down his face. “I’m taking that as a no.”
He doesn’t bother arguing. You’re not wrong, either — as concerned as he might be, he’s not curious enough to make you tell the tale of how you and Natasha disappeared in the forest for over an hour. Instead, he turns around, silently gesturing for you to follow him.
Half an hour later, you’re back inside the tent. Clint and Wanda are gone, probably on the verge of falling asleep, and you’re applying bandaids all over Natasha’s back. She hisses when you use a towel, soaked in disinfectant, to wipe a particularly nasty scratch.
“Got you good”, you tease, pecking her shoulder. “We’re done here. You look like a work of art.”
“I’m sure”, she mutters, reaching for her hoodie. “My entire back is burning.”
You shrug and sink down into the mattress. Natasha glances at you and sighs, her fingers touching your knee, before joining you. Her body presses against yours, warmth cocooning the two of you.
Her hand slips under your body. Her nose nuzzles your neck, now smelling of lake water and something earthy.
“Another thing I can check off my list.”
“You’re disgusting.”
She laughs, a rough and tired sound that shoots straight into your chest. Maybe she didn’t get to lick you dry, but whatever this was — it’s way better.
Pairing: Nerd!Natasha x Fem!Reader
Summary: A hot, lazy evening of studying leaves your roommate Natasha more open to suggestion.
Content Warning: GP!Natasha, oral sex (Natasha receiving), fingering (R receiving), slight praise kink?
Word count: 3.7k
A/N: i watched scoop recently and i couldn’t stop thinking about how cute she is in that film, so natasha’s kind of a nerd in this one. please enjoy my first tumblr published work... first tumblr post ever actually...
It’s 10PM, and she’s still not done studying. Natasha is never done studying until she can remember every theory and calculation like the back of her hand, until she can shut her eyes and read sums on the back of her eyelids. Natasha wouldn’t be done for hours.
But you’re getting bored. You’re sprawled across her bed on your stomach and kicking your legs like a schoolgirl, watching her flip pages and write things in margins that were already full of her spidery scrawl.
Natasha’s the ideal roommate, really. She’s shy, so she never brings home any unwanted guests, and she’s quiet, which means no loud music or thumping from her bedroom either, but if you were to be a little nitpicky, which you were, you’d say that Natasha wasn’t massively fun. She consistently opted out of parties and invitations to clubs or dorms that weren’t hers. Her idea of fun was turning on National Geographic and watching a documentary on the slow extinction of the sperm whale, followed by a glass of warm milk and an early bedtime. And, fuck, it might’ve been lame, but it was also incredibly endearing.
Still boring, though.
“Nat, I’m pretty sure you’ve already read that part. Twice, even,” you huff, flopping onto your side to face her while she sat at her desk. She glances at you, the low lamplight reflecting in her little round glasses, and she pushes them back up her nose.
“I have to be sure I’m getting it right,” she says, with all the patience you lack, and turns back to her notebook to continue writing. You watch the movement of her pen for a moment before pressing your face to her sheets and letting out a long groan, to which she huffs a little laugh. “You said you wanted to stay in with me tonight. You’re not having fun?”
“No,” you groan, and she laughs again. “I’m having no fun at all. You’ve been studying for hours now and you wouldn’t even get up to have dinner. I made dinner, Nat. My pasta was hot and the cheese on top was crispy but you wouldn’t even get up.” You see the twitching of her mouth as she tries not to laugh, tries not to encourage your behavior, but your own mouth is curving upwards now. A little impish feeling surfaces in your throat, and you sit up fully. “Seriously, what can be more interesting than dinner?” Your legs are already swinging off the bed. Your mind is somewhere completely different to your body, which moves like you’re on autopilot. If Natasha wasn’t allowing herself to be distracted, you’d just have to distract her.
You flank her like a predator, which makes you grin almost wolfishly, and you lean over her shoulder to peer at her work. Your chest is pressed against her back from this angle, and you immediately feel Natasha tense up.
“What are you—”
“I’m just curious,” you smile, pretending to skim over her notebook. It’s all numbers, anyway, might as well be Greek to you, but you hum in understanding, lips dangerously close to Natasha’s ear. She flinches like she’s been burned, but she makes no move to stand or pull away from you. Good, then. You could push this a little further. “Oh wow. This is hard stuff, huh? You’re so clever, Nat.”
This time she’s not as good at hiding her reaction. Her throat bobs when she swallows down a keening whine that had escaped her lips for a moment, only a moment, but your ears picked up on it instantly. “It’s– It’s not rocket science, anyone can do it,” she mumbles. You look pointedly at her, to which she looks away immediately, eyes darting back to her work. “It’s just math.”
Her shyness is so cute you almost feel a wave of aggression form, wanting to dig your nails against the soft slope of her shoulder where her grandpa sweater hangs loosely, sink your teeth into her ear to hear another whine, but you stop yourself. “Then take a break with me, Nat,” you murmur into her ear, pressing impossibly closer, not missing the way your breasts pushed up against her even harder. Natasha could’ve been a statue at this point. “There are way more interesting things in the world than math.”
You see her lips twitch, trying to form a word, but nothing comes out. Natasha, slowly, uncertainly, looks at you with wide eyes, trying to figure out your intentions like one of her sums, except this wasn’t numbers. She wasn’t good at this. You can almost hear the cogs in her mind, then the furrowing of her brow, before you sigh. If she wasn’t going to say anything, you would.
You spin her chair to face you, and Natasha’s head jerks back with the sudden force before you plant yourself down in her lap in one smooth motion.
Natasha’s hips buck upwards reflexively, and her hands scramble to grasp the armrests. “What are you doing?” she chokes out, leaning as far back as the chair allows. You give a small smile, leaning forward so that your foreheads are almost touching.
“What do you think I’m doing, Nat?” you murmur in response. You adjust your position a little, moving your thighs comfortably on either side of her, but when you wriggle your hips to get comfortable, Natasha looks away quickly. You can feel the heat radiating from her face, and God, if that wasn’t the cutest thing. She looks back at you briefly, mouth a little agape as she tries to fathom what on earth has gotten into you, but when you roll your hips against hers, her hands fly up and grab your waist to still you.
“I-I’m really not sure this is a good idea,” Natasha manages to get out. Her hands are holding you tightly, and her glasses are slipping down her face. You bite your lower lip and push them back up her nose. You feel her fingers curl around you.
You lean closer, your forehead brushing against stray strands of her hair. It’s almost hard to breathe, this close to her, but you swallow and push on. “You should’ve thought about that before you made me sit on your bed alone,” you whisper. Natasha licks her lower lip nervously, and it shines in the dim lamp light. The sight causes something bold to surface in you. “You work too hard, Nat. Let me help, okay?”
“Fuck,” is the only word she says, and then Natasha’s eyes dart to your lips. You don’t have to be a genius like her to figure out what that means. Heat rushes to your stomach as you lean in, fingers curling in her sweater, and press your mouth to hers. A needy sound fills your mouth, and it takes you a second to realize it’s Natasha, not you, and suddenly her mouth is widening, opening to press her tongue against your lips, so delicate and shy it makes you ache.
Kissing Natasha is nothing like any kiss you’ve had before. Her mouth is hot against yours, her head angled so her glasses won’t bump against your face as she kisses you slowly, shyly, like she’s worried she’s doing it wrong. You smile against her lips, and then you press your tongue against hers, warm and wet and undeniable. Natasha pulls away with a start, eyes wide and cheeks flushed a delicious pink that spreads down her neck. Your smile turns into a grin. “Was that your first kiss?”
Natasha swallows. She’s looking up at you like she’s afraid she’s done something wrong. “Was it bad?”
You shake your head. “More like the opposite,” you purr, and beneath you, you feel a shiver run down her entire body. God, since when was your roommate this fucking cute?
Something like relief floods her features, and she straightens her glasses. Her hands are still on your waist, just above the waistband of your stretchy cotton sleep shorts, and she’s looking at you like she’s simultaneously pleading and afraid. You nod slowly, and Natasha leans in to kiss you again. She’s a little bolder this time, and as you sigh softly into her mouth, you feel her fingers press against your lower stomach, having slipped past your waistband, and now settling above where you really needed it. Your hips churn against hers at the sudden coolness on your skin.
“Please,” Natasha forces out when she pulls away to breathe. “Can I…”
“Can you what?” you mumble, though you know full well what she wants. You just want to hear the words from her inexperienced tongue. The heat in your stomach simmers like oil, and Natasha groans.
“Can I touch you, please?” she asks, her voice strained. Her hips, pressed so close to yours, betray her excitement and buck upwards, and, fuck, what was that? Something hard and warm against your ass, but your lust-addled brain can’t put two and two together right now, not when Natasha is looking up at you like you hung the moon. You nod, and she mumbles something too low for you to catch.
Her hand slips lower, past your briefs, and then suddenly you feel her cool fingers bump your swollen clit. “Shit,” you hiss, leaning forward and grabbing the headrest of her chair. From this angle, your chest, barely constrained in its little white tank top, is much closer to Natasha’s face, and she groans. Her fingers slowly spread you open like a prize, and you let out an embarrassing gasp at the contact. A fingertip works you open, gathering your arousal on her finger like lubricant, and she swallows thickly.
“I’m gonna put it in, okay?” she asks, shy even now, and you nod above her, words failing you. You feel her take a steadying breath before she slowly pushes inside of you, working you open with her middle finger until she finally sinks inside. Your cunt greedily clenches around her, and you sigh against her ear when she reaches the knuckle. She’s biting her lower lip nervously. “Does that hurt?”
You shake your head quickly. “No, no, it’s good,” you reply. Your hips itch with the need to move. “You’re so good, Nat.”
That keening whine from earlier escapes Natasha’s throat, and her hips jerk up involuntarily. She licks her lips nervously again, and then her finger moves inside you, pumping slowly, and suddenly you don’t care about anything else. You’re tightening around her, heat pooling in your stomach, and your hips start to move against her hand, seeking more contact.
“Fuck, fuck, Nat, another one,” you babble, and she acquiesces, easily slipping her ring finger inside, and you groan softly. Her fingers curl with every thrust, like she’s seeking a specific spot, and her brows are furrowed like they usually are when she’s studying. She watches your face for changes in your expression, for the furrow of your brow and the widening of your mouth. What makes you gasp like that? How much pressure on your clit do you like? Oh, that’s what you like. She’s always been a quick study, but the reward of a potential orgasm motivates her a lot more than a grade on a midterm.
Heat coils in your stomach, tightening like the knot of a rope. Your hips bounce against her now, rocking up and down with abandon as you chase the pleasure of her touch, and now you can really feel something hot and straining against your ass, but you can’t care, not when her fingers finally brush against the spot that makes your toes clench.
“Oh fuck, Nat, yes,” you say between heavy moans, eloquence leaving you, and she takes it as a sign to fuck you even harder, pushing against the spot that makes your thighs tighten. “So good, Nat, so good, fuck, I–”
Her fingers don’t relent. She’s looking up at you, eyes wide like she’s looking at something magical, and her lips are still a little wet from your earlier kiss. “Are you gonna cum?” You nod shakily, desperately. “Come on, cum, cum for me,” she coaxes, words tumbling from her mouth, fingers unrelenting, fucking you like it was the only thing she knew how to do, and the heat in your belly bursts into flame.
You gasp, panting greedily as your cunt pulses desperately, your orgasm washing over you in fast, relentless waves. Your clit burns, throbbing against the seam of your underwear, and Natasha’s touch slows when she feels your cunt tighten against her, rubbing slow, soothing circles against your front wall. When the waves die down, you feel her drag her fingers away reluctantly, finally reappearing from your sleep shorts. Your chest heaves with exhaustion, and you look down at her with an incredulous smile on your lips.
“Nat,” is all you say, and then she’s kissing you again, less hungry than earlier, a little more patient. When you pull away, her lips are swollen and shining. You grin. “Fuck, Nat. I didn’t know you knew how to do that. Where did you learn to make a girl feel good?” Natasha coughs, face heating with the praise, and looks away.
“It’s not rocket science,” she replies, though with a small smile.
You laugh, moving back so you weren’t completely crushing her, and then you felt it bump against your ass again. The straining warmth you’d noticed earlier but were too preoccupied to think about. Natasha suddenly jumps in her seat, catching her lower lip between her teeth to stop a hiss from escaping.
Your brain whirs. No. Surely not, right?
“Oh my god,” you whisper. Your hips move again. Natasha almost cries out. “Natasha, do you have a–”
“Yes,” she grunts, “I do. And it really hurts right now, so if you don’t mind…” She moves to lift you up and off of her lap, but you stiffen against her, making yourself dead weight. She groans. “I need to go to the bathroom so I can–”
You grasp her wrists tightly. Natasha startles, looking at you owlishly, confusion evident on her face. Fuck, it’s so cute it’s a little disarming. You shake your head.
“Nat,” you begin, something devilish swirling around in your head. “I’m not letting you get up so you can go to the bathroom and finish yourself off in there.”
Her face flushes violently. “What?”
A grin spreads across your face, and you slowly move backwards off her lap, pulling away until you’re settled on your knees on the floor, looking up at her. “I said I’m not letting you jerk off in the toilet, Nat.”
“I-I heard what you said,” Natasha responds, but she still looks confused. Your hands move to the waistband of her sweatpants, and suddenly it dawns on her what you’re implying. “You– wait, you really don’t have to–”
“I know I don’t,” you cut in smoothly, and pull her sweatpants down. She lifts her hips up so they pool around her ankles, and then there’s nowhere else to look. Her boxers are a sensible navy with little white polka dots, and you smile. “Cute,” you say, trailing a hand up her now bare thigh, and she stammers something. Your hand moves up, up past the leg of her boxers until you finally reach what you’d been feeling against you this entire time. Her cock is trapped against the tight cotton, and you coo teasingly. “I bet that really hurts, doesn’t it?”
“Don’t be mean,” Natasha breathes out. Your hand palms at her erection, feeling the heat radiate through the thin cotton, and she gasps out suddenly like she’d been burned. “Shit!”
Her reaction is almost enough to make your thighs shake. “Was that good?” you ask lowly, grasping at her again, and she nods frantically. “You like it when I touch your cock?”
“Please,” Natasha chokes out. You hum, and then finally pull down her boxers. Her cock springs out, hitting her stomach with a wet slap, and you can’t help the surprised little gasp from your mouth. It’s leaking desperately, flushed a deep pink from tip to base, and your mouth almost waters. Natasha is squirming in her seat, too flustered to protest when your hand reaches up to tentatively wrap around her cock, feeling her pulse flutter against your fingers.
You look up at Natasha. Her mouth is slightly agape, perhaps at your grasp, perhaps at this entire ridiculous situation. You can’t find it in you to care, so instead your grasp tightens a little and your hand moves with a slow steady pump of Natasha’s cock.
The effect is apparent. Natasha’s thighs spread wider, her brow furrows, and her mouth opens a little more. You smile. Slowly, you press your thumb to the oozing slit at the tip of her cock, a bead of moisture rolling down her shaft, and she gasps when your thumb makes little circles. “Fuck, you’re– fuck,” she stutters, and you hum, pleased. Slowly, you start to move your hand up and down, the way you’d seen in dirty videos you’d been shown at sleepovers, and Natasha’s hips stir. “Yes, please, fuck.”
Your hand keeps pumping, feeling her impossibly stiffen even more, her tip now an angry, sensitive red. It’s slick with her own precum, and you swallow thickly. You lean forward slowly, still stroking, before angling your head just right and taking her cock in your mouth.
“Shit!” Natasha barks, but you can’t bring yourself to pay attention to anything but the tang of her sweat and arousal against your mouth. A moan slips out of your throat involuntarily, causing Natasha’s hips to jerk up. You feel her slide deeper into your throat, and she curses. “Fuck, I-I’m sorry,” she splutters, but she trails off when your hand splays across her stomach.
You inhale deeply, relaxing your throat just enough to not gag, and then sink lower until every inch of her disappears inside of your mouth, your nose pressing against her underbelly.
You feel her shudder go through you, and you look up at her through watery lashes. Natasha’s looking down at you through those silly round glasses, her lips parted with hot, heaving pants, but she’s nodding, and that’s all the signal you need.
You start pulling away from her cock until she’s almost entirely exposed again, freshly glistening in the tepid air. Her tip is resting on your tongue, warm and leaking, and you dip your tongue against the leaking slit. Natasha groans, and her hand finds the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. Her touch isn’t persistent, just grounding, and you hum sweetly while you swirl your tongue around her head. Another stutter of her hips, and then her fingers tighten in your hair, though not enough to hurt.
“Fuck, it’s– you’re so warm,” she hisses through her teeth, and slowly you lower your head, cock pushing further into your mouth until Natasha’s fingers pull your hair with a cry. You sob out a moan. Your thighs still tremble from your earlier orgasm, but looking up at her, her face contorted in pleasure, your thighs shake for a completely different reason.
You’re starting to find a rhythm now, bobbing your head along her cock, drool on your chin and slick all down her shaft. Natasha attempts to coax you through it, but it’s difficult between her moans and strangled cries when your hand comes up to cup her balls. It only takes a second before her hips stutter again, and suddenly her hand is pressing down on your head, pushing herself into your throat in one smooth motion.
“F-Fuck, I‘m sorry, I–” Natasha stammers, and her hips roll up to meet your mouth. You can’t do anything but moan as she fucks your mouth desperately, cradling your hair with as much tenderness as she could manage in her state. Your thighs clench, tears prickling your eyes and beading on your eyelashes as her hips move. A hot, salty tang blooms on your tongue, and Natasha shivers. “I’m gonna, shit, wait, I’m…”
She pulls out immediately, and you watch wide-eyed as her cock visibly throbs once, twice, and then spurts thin white ropes against her stomach and stupid grandpa sweater, and Natasha groans like the weight of something heavy has finally slid off her shoulders. You sit silently, watching her chest heave with slow breaths, before you reach for a tissue from her desk.
“You liked that?” you smile, wiping any stickiness from her skin, and she watches you with something reverent.
“Jesus,” she mumbles, pushing her glasses up to rub at her eyes. Her mouth is faltering into a twitching laugh now, and you grin with her. “Fuck. That was… that was really good. Sorry for the- the mess.”
You shake your head. “Don’t be.” Your head rests against her knee, and the hand that was resting warmly against the base of your skull moves to your cheek, cupping softly. Your heart does something full and unhurried in your chest, and you almost scoff at how ridiculous this situation is, but you can’t find it in you to regret it. Your sweet, shy roommate almost cumming down your throat and then tenderly stroking your face? You’d have never guessed she'd be so rough during it. The thought blooms something heavy in your abdomen again, and you hold back a groan.
“Now, Nat, I think you’ve got one more thing to do,” the words rumble out of your throat, and Natasha nods eagerly, desperate to know what else she could do for you. Your grin turns into a smirk.
“Tell me, please,” she pleads.
“Study,” you smile, and then you’re pulling her cock back into her boxers, shimmying up her sweatpants and pushing her chair back against her desk. Natasha stammers in confusion, lips twitching like she’s trying not to laugh, but you’re very serious.
“R-Really? Now?”
“You better get started.” Your lips are hot against her, your words ghosting the shell of her ear. “Because I’m gonna test you on everything you’ve remembered.”
Your hand on her shoulder, snaking down to her collarbone.
! disclaimer: i can’t guarantee all of these will be finished/posted
note that some of these haven’t been started yet, so the descriptions might be inaccurate or the final version might differ from the original idea. will do my best to keep this updated
Hiii again. Okay so to answer your question, omg I had a bunch of different idea like Reader being a little bit reluctant to have kids bc of her job, you know. Or maybe she does have kids with that but feels bad not being present to see them grow up, cause she travels a lot and stuff. And she's also scared to lose Natasha because kids first, so they're struggling etc etc. But then maybe she can get a compromise like get an offer to teach journalism at the university of the closest big city and so she can still travel a bit that way, you know. Idk just a bunch of random ideas I had, it might not makes sense lol I just had to write it all before forgetting😭
Also could I be your 🍿 anon?😇 I'm finally fully back on tumblr, I intend to be active again🤭
ohhh that’s interesting!! 👀 ive been thinking about it a lot today, i think im getting closer to whatever feels right. you’re spot on with a lot of these things
Hiii, it took me a while to read the new chapter of the thirteen years au but really it might be the best series ever, I love it so much and I needed to tell you!!
I love the attention to detail throughout every chapter and the YEARNING and I’m too bad with words to express how much I absolutely love it. I hope you keep writing more for this au and in general all your other series, which are amazing as well, so thank you thank you thank you for your stories! ❤️
thank you so so much 😭 yeah it’s a long one lol, took me months of work but so worth it. very happy it’s been received so well 🫶
ill absolutely keep writing for it (and my other series as well)! i have a bunch of ideas, it’s just taking me a bit to get them down on paper 🙈 thank you for these very kind words!
hiiiiii, i got so busy with everything but i still read your fics! tbh im currently re-reading Bed Chem right now 😂
i hope you're taking care of yourself and pat yourself in the back for surviving the day!
- 🤸🏻
oh hi! :) happy to hear you’re doing well! bed chem is a personal fav, hope you’re having fun 🫶
why thank you! finals are over so all im doing rn is self care lol. got a 2 (B?) on a final that i thought i definitely failed so my days been wonderful 🙂↕️ hope to get to take a few breaks every once in a while dear anon
Holy SHIT, love your writing so muchhhhhhh🥹 I was in pain but it's the kind of angst I love eventhough it hurts but it's okay because I know they end up together in the end. Also you got me in my feels at the end so I decided to go back read the first chapter of that story and I forgot the end was hella angst too!!!! So now I'm just rereading everything... See what you did to me!🥹
To join that other anon, would love love to see them happy with kids. And also maybe more dogs because I love dogs so much and it would be adorable🥹
thank you so much!! ❤️🩹❤️🩹 that’s the benefit of not writing the story in order lol, you can kinda enjoy the angst 😭 hope you had a fun reread tho
