Reblogs are really appreciated. I write for Natasha, Wanda, Yelena and Kate.
REQUESTS ARE CLOSED
I write a lot of NSFW so if you're under 18, please don't read them. I do write SFW too so read that instead :)
PLEASE tell me what gender you want reader to be when requesting, otherwise I'm just gonna assume you mean female reader. I write for male!reader too. Thanks :)
Asks are always open for anything.
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Kate Bishop:
General dating Kate Bishop headcanons (SFW)
Kate Bishop x Top!reader NSFW headcanons
Top!Kate spoiling and looking after reader headcanons (NSFW, Requested)
Aftercare with Top!Kate (Sort of NSFW, Requested)
Top!Kate x reader headcanons (NSFW, Requested)
Pretty When You Cry (NSFW, Smut)
SugarMommy!Kate Bishop x Reader headcanons (NSFW)
NSFW Alphabet
Wanda Maximoff:
Darling, I'm The Only One You Need Series (Dark!Wanda, NSFW)
A = Aftercare. Ellie is extremely attentive after sex, she cuddles you until you settle, until your breathing calms down and you’re starting to go limp in her arms with exhaustion. She’ll get you water and make sure you drink it, even if you whine or complain. She encourages you to eat by making you a cutely displayed snack; fruit in the shape of a smiley face, or a heart. She always brushes your hair for you, plaiting it. It’s her favourite. She washes you up, running the shower or bath and bathing you. She cannot believe how incredibly lucky she is to be able to do this for you. She’ll be telling you how good you did all the while. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t ya?” She’ll pepper you with kisses and stroke your shoulders, back, anywhere you’re sore. “So beautiful, my girl.” She asks if there was anything you didn’t like if she tries something new, and she’ll embarrass you by making you tell her your favourite parts. She tries to get you to sleep, to rest. She’ll put on a film and cuddle into you, cradling you. She holds tightly onto you, not letting you move an inch.
B = Body part. Ellie’s favourite body part of her own are undoubtedly her hands and arms. Through them, she’s able to be as close to you as possible. She can feel your skin and hair, she can hold you and cuddle up to you and cradle you, she can make you feel protected and safe. She can tease you, tickling you or patting your head to embarrass you in front of others. She can protect you; she can shoot well. She can stab efficiently. She can fuck you, be as close to you as possible. Have you convulse around her fingers and spasm. She loves her hands the most when her fingers are deep inside of you and they’re covered in your wetness. She loves her fingers when they’re down your throat, gagging on them. Smearing your spit all around your face. She can smack your arse as a warning when you’re being a little shit on patrols, not listening to her. She can hold your wrists down, restrict your breathing with her fingers. She is eternally grateful for all of these things. Ellie’s favourite body part of yours is most definitely your face, if that counts. She loves to see you. To see you and know you see her. She watches you in a way to study your every expression. She is hyper aware of your emotions, she is careful to study your reactions to every little movement. She adores your beauty, to her you are the literal personification of this. She struggles to see beauty in anything but you. She loves how cute you are. Your scrunched up nose when you’re angry or confused, furrowed eyebrows. How you pout at her and whine when she won’t comply with a request, or when she’s giving you a command. She loves being able to hold your face in her hands and look into your eyes. To you, this gets a little uncomfy, becoming nervous. You get antsy, just wanting to kiss her. But Ellie just wants to see you. Aside from your face, her favourite part of your body is definitely your pussy. She is obsessed. Literally. She finds herself seeing your vulva in the nature around her when she’s out of Jackson and away from you for too long (more than around three hours.) When she touched herself, she thinks about being able to use her mouth on you. To feel your throbbing on her tongue. She adores how easy you are for her, how incredibly wet you get from just her teasing you in conversation. She is obsessed with this, she finds it so incredibly endearing. She often makes you strip your undies just to show her how wet they’ve become from just being near her. You’ll blush and hide your face, whining. “Aww c’mon, it’s cute baby, you need me that bad huh?”
C = Cum. Ellie found out what squirting was from her ex, Cat, and was hooked on the idea of making you squirt from the moment you got together. To you, it was humiliating. But you liked that, and she liked making you feel that way. She’d have you drink a lot of water under the guise of keeping you hydrated but you both knew it was because she planned on fucking your poor pussy raw until you squirted over her fingers later that night. She figured out to get you there she has to go deep, fingers curved on your g spot, hard and fast. You’d feel it and try stop yourself, body tensing as you cried. “Don’t hold it back baby, don’t fucking dare, c‘mon n’ cum for me.” After, she’d be so fucking proud of you. She’d clean you up and kiss you all over. “You did so good angel, so so proud of you.”
D = Dirty secret. Ellie would never be able to bring herself to admit it but she absolutely fantasises about having full control over you. About owning you. You being her possession completely gets her off, she craves it deeply. Any interactions that come close to imitating this are her absolute favourites; her choosing your outfits, choosing your food, giving you permission to touch yourself and finish. Allowing you on patrols only when partnered with her. Bathing you, caring for you; cooking, cleaning, getting you dressed and tucked into bed. She secretly wants you to be completely dependent on her. She wants you to only ever need her, always. She knows she can protect you, that she’s all you need. You catch yourself fantasising about this but much less intense. You like the idea of this control being purely within sex. You love Ellie telling you what to do, what to take off and keep on, how to position yourself (or better yet, when she puts you into position.) You love when she verbally guides you whilst she uses your body. “Good girl, just like that, keep your head still.”
E = Experience. Ellie is fairly experienced, she lost her virginity to her first girlfriend Cat. The relationship was very innocent and sort of awkward. The sex especially was awkward. Lots of pauses and laughing and ending abruptly. Then, she briefly dated Dina. The sex was good. In sort of reverse to her relationship with Cat; the sex was good but the two together clashed. Lots of arguing and disagreements, not much chemistry. This did result in lots of angry sex which developed Ellie into the slight sadist she is with you. After Dina, she had a few hook ups with random girls from Jackson. Ellie is practically famous amongst the young gay population of Jackson, she had girls throwing themselves at her feet naked. She didn’t really enjoy this. She likes fucking. She likes the feeling of making a girl whine and cry and moan and writhe, she likes the power from it. But it was so vapid that it lowered her mood even worse so. With everyone that she had ever fucked she had always been thinking of you. She had been obsessed with you from the moment she saw you, you just seemed unobtainable. You, however, were a complete virgin before Ellie. You touched yourself thinking of her at an insane rate, literally multiple times a day for three painstakingly long years. Your pussy was literally trained to react to Ellie and Ellie alone. She is fucking obsessed with that.
F = Favorite position. When fingering you, Ellie’s favourite position is her sat up with you straddling her. She loves being able to see your face, your expressions. She gets to hear every little whimper. She gets to see as you start to drool as you lose yourself. How your eyes tear up and you cry. She holds onto your hip with such a grip that she doesn’t realise until she notices the finger tip shaped bruises the next morning. Your hip or your throat, especially as you get close, the feeling of her hand tightly there sending you over the edge. The feeling of your life literally being in Ellie’s hands as she fucks into your pussy is something that becomes an addiction. When she’s fucking you with the strap (found sealed in a practically untouched sex shop and thoroughly washed and sanitised) she likes to have you bent over, doggy. Rough and hard and fast. She gets to spank your ass, grab your neck and pull at your hair. She can lean over and see your face as you sob into yourself, begging for more. Ellie loves having you ride her thigh, too. She uses this as a sort of punishment for bad behaviour. She’ll hold your jaw tightly, making you look at her, her thumb in your mouth.
G = Goofy. Ellie goes both ways with this. It largely depends on the context. If you’re just fooling around and it’s lighthearted she’ll tease you and make you laugh, she’ll tickle you and taunt you a little. “What? You gonna be a brat now, huh? You sure you don’t just want me to tear into you?” She’ll push you down, making out with you ferociously, both of you laughing in between kisses. This is usually the case when you’re not preoccupied by other things, when you’re just at home and horny and needy. Ellie is pretty serious other times, like when you’re desperate for her, annoying her and acting out on patrol. “Ellieee, pleaseee, I really really need you.” You’ll whine, bashing your head into her arm and tugging on her sleeve. “Baby, I can’t wait to fuck you, okay? But we have a job to do. You’re gonna have to wait.” You’ll keep going, you get yourself into a mess, your fake pout and whine quickly turning into real desperate tears and quick breaths. “Y/N you seriously need to calm down.” She grows irritated, grabbing your arms to steady you. “But Ellie it’s so s-sore,” your legs get shaky and you cry pitifully. Ellie sighs and grabs your arm, dragging you back to a room you had just cleared. She lifts you and places you onto a desk, ripping off your pants and underwear in one swipe. She treats it like a job, cold and harsh and efficient. Your pussy is drenched and desperate and she softens at the sight. This was all she had wanted, too. But she had the sense to control herself and wait. She fucks into you quickly, your pussy clenching around her fingers. She leans her face into yours, “Hurry up, I’m only giving you two minutes.” She’s stern. You nod, whimpering. You only take one minute. She kisses your forehead, pulls up your pants and you’re back on the job.
H = Hair. Ellie, like most, does not shave. Within a post apocalyptic world beauty standards have changed. Regardless of this, Ellie wouldn’t shave even if it was expected of women. She doesn’t see the need to. She trims her pubes because it’s easier access for you to give her oral. She has pit hair and you think it’s pretty sexy.
I = Intimacy. When you’re having intimate, romantic sex Ellie is as soft as silk. She is so tender and gentle, she strokes your skin, kisses your face and neck and jaw and chest. She kisses you anywhere the position allows she can reach. She praises you uncontrollably. “Such a beautiful princess, you’re all mine aren’t you? So so lucky.” She goes slow and deep, you writhe under her touch and she cups you closer with an arm under the arch of your back. She loves eating you out when you have tender sex like this, feeling you cum on her tongue as you whine out how much you love her. She fucks your with the strap in missionary, stroking your cheek, “Tell me how that feels.” She’ll coo, kissing your forehead. “F-feels s-soo good Ells,” you’re whimpering and shivering.
J = Jack off. Ellie touches herself somewhat frequently. Whenever she’s away from Jackson for a while she’ll do it when she feels that ache of your absence. She’ll think about eating you out, about how perfectly her fingers fit inside you, how pathetic your whines and mewls sound when she’s fucking you. She often thinks about her fingers in your mouth, too. That really gets her off. She thinks of things in a somewhat abstract sense, words describing memories pushing her over the edge. Such a cute little wet pussy and things of the like. She strokes her clit, but she’s somewhat uncomfortable with being penetrated so she doesn’t touch herself like that. She likes her chest being touched, too. She likes remembering the feeling of your mouth on her nipples, and her holding your head still whilst she fucks her pussy into your mouth, your tongue out for her.
K = Kink. Punishments and rewards. Ellie has set expectations for you; you only go out on patrols when partnered with her, you listen to her when on these patrols, you ask her permission to wear certain items of clothing, you ask her permission to touch yourself and to finish, you do as she says and you speak to her kindly. In general, you’re good at following these. You love Ellie’s praise and when she rewards you with a good fuck, or with some flowers she’s picked or some chocolate she got from the market. You love being Ellie’s good girl and the reputation you’ve made of this; everyone sees you as the best thing that could’ve ever happened to Ellie. You are so good for her. Most times when you step out of line, it was intentionally to provoke the reaction you wanted. Ellie’s “punishments” were more of a funishment. For her, she got to let off steam and enjoy fucking your and for you they were mostly pure satisfaction of being completely helpless. Ellie would most often times spank your ass raw and bruised until you were a sobbing mess, begging for her to ‘stop.’ She’d fuck you after, hard. Sometimes, she’d overstimulate you. Making you cum over and over until your body couldn’t handle it, on the verge of passing out. Or, she’d completely deny you. This was only when you had done something to really upset her.
L = Location. Truthfully, Ellie loves fucking you in risky places. On patrols, in the bathroom of the diner or the pub. In other people’s houses when you’re visiting, even. She loves how scared you get, how your body trembles when you realise how loud the sound of wet smacking is. You’ll whine for her to stop going so rough so it’ll be quieter, but she speeds up. She does love sec with you at home, too. When it’s cozy and quiet. She knows you feel most secure and safe there. You’re a whiner, and the only place you don’t complain about it being uncomfortable at is in bed or on the sofa. She has fucked you on every piece of furniture in your little home. The bed, the coffee table, the tv stand and wardrobe, the sofa, the kitchenette, the bath and over the sink, the floors. Ellie is insatiable.
M = Motivation. Ellie gets crazy turned on by your pitiful little face when you’re asking her for something or when you’re just looking helpless. Your big watery doe eyes and sniffly nose and pouty lip, flushed cheeks as you tremble. Whether it’s because you’re anxious or cold or upset. It makes her feel slightly guilty but it really really gets her going. You just look like you need to be fucked by her strap until you’re okay again. She loves when you’re tired and you have a sleepy voice, “ells, wan’ cuddles, right now” you complain, grabbing onto her arms with half closed eyes. She’ll nuzzle into you with kisses, her hands travelling down to your pants. She loves when you try to impress her- having killed an infected, marching over to tell her, big proud grin on your face. “Well done princess, you sure you’re okay?” She’ll coo over you and make sure you know just how proud she is.
N = No. Ellie wouldn’t have very many limits with you. Even with something kind of unusual like water sports, she’d probably be willing to think of a compromise. With that specific example, she would probably control when you’re allowed to go to the bathroom, teasing you when you need it and not letting you go, watching as you tremble and cry and beg. The only things that she would say No to are scat, age play and intense sadomasochistic scenes
O = Oral. Ellie prefers to give oral. It’s her favourite form of sex. She obsesses over it. She has you lay over the side of the bed, her on her knees using her mouth on you. Or she’ll have you sit on her face, her hands on your hips forcefully moving you to grind. Ellie maintains full control in this, easily overpowering you.
P = Pace. Again, depends on the context. When you’re having romantic, sensual sex Ellie goes painfully slow and deep up until you reach your peak, then she’ll speed up to maximise the feeling of your orgasm. When she’s annoyed at you or she’s pent up she can go a lot harder than she realises, often leaving you bruised and sore. As a general, Ellie fucks you deep and fast.
Q = Quickie. Ellie doesn’t really care for quickies, preferring to have you at her expense for hours on end. Quickies are usually the result of you acting out or being impatient and her pounding into you until you cum, then being obviously irritated with you afterwards (but especially hands on and protective.)
R = Risk. Ellie is up for risk taking, fucking you in semi public environments. The most risky situation you’ve found yourself in was when she was stroking your clit under the table at dinner at a restaurant with your friends. She saw that you were growing uncomfortable from anxiety and stopped before you could finish. Aside from this, has has once fucked you with her switchblade up to your throat per your request. She was extremely nervous of accidentally scratching you or cutting into you but Ellie is very skilled with her blade, she kept a steady hand and only the flat surface of the side of the blade ever came into contact with your skin.
S = Stamina. Ellie has INSANE stamina. She would literally fuck your for the rest of her life continuously if you let her. Every single time you have sex she asks if you want to go again, usually going three or four rounds before you tire out too much to physically move. Even then she’s okay to keep going, asking if you want her to use her mouth to soothe you down. Your sex at home lasts for several hours with minimal breaks for water. The longest you’ve went was seven hours, with Ellie overstimulating you into a sobbing broken mess. She’s never seen you so beautiful.
T = Toys. Ellie owns one strap found from a sex toy shop. She got a little vibrator from there too, not really knowing what it was. Neither of you really use it much, preferring the organic feeling of each others bodies.
U = Unfair. Ellie is a HUGE tease. She literally torments your life. She loves pushing you to tears, it turns her on like nothing else. She can be so cruel, having you grind yourself onto her shoe as your only hope of getting off. “Keep going, think you’re gonna cum like that hm?” She’ll ask, seated. You bump your clothed pussy onto her converse desperate for the friction, sobbing out unintelligible nonsense. “P-please, wanna cum s-so bad Ells,” you’re crying, your face soaked from tears and Ellie’s spit. “Go on then, cum.”
V = Volume. Ellie isn’t really loud at all. When you first started sleeping together she was eerily quiet, insecure of how she sounds. You coaxed her into letting go. She is breathy and makes deep groans, the ghost of a pained whine here and there if she’s especially needy. She is very vocal, either reminding you of your place or reminding you how perfect you are and how she loves you unconditionally.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) - Ellie is turned on by the strength difference between the two of you. She very easily overpowers you. She can pin you down and have you just writhe and whine and eventually bubble up to tears, unable to actually do anything. She could kill you. Strangely, this turns her on. Not that she has a desire to but the knowledge that she holds that power and you wouldn’t be able to resist it just floods her head with dirty pictures of you. Equally, the knowledge that she can very efficiently protect you is reassuring. Your physical weakness is endearing to her. She is reassured by your necessity for her protection
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) - She’s not really picky. Black boxers and white undies.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) - EXTREMELY high!!!!!!! Ellie literally thinks about fucking you every minute of every day if she’s not innocently thinking of how much she loves and adores and appreciates you she’s thinking of fucking you to tears and bruises. You have sex at least once a day, frequently more. It’s comforting to Ellie, it’s so intimate. It’s like holding each other but more closely. Plus, she is just plain obsessed with your body.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) - Ellie falls asleep pretty soon after you do (which is pretty much as soon as she’s finished pottering around you and doting on you.) She’ll stroke your hair for a while and whisper to you until she knows you’re at a deep sleep and then she’ll cuddle you into her chest and fall asleep herself.
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This took soooo long!!!! I hope you like it :)) I do teehee ^^
• abby loves when you ride her thigh. it’s a huge ego trip for her, as you get to appreciate her thick legs which she works so hard on during her lengthy workout sessions - but she also adores seeing you get so needy for her, sometimes she’ll just be sat cleaning her weapons or something whilst you writhe on her lap, grabbing at her strong arms as you work yourself over. she’ll pretend to ignore you at first, occasionally chastising you and chuckling mockingly, or just telling you how good you’re being - but she’ll usually end up breaking and just fucking you.
• she gets cuteness aggression towards you, bad. like you know the feeling when you see a lil puppy or kitten and it’s so adorable that you just wanna squeeze it? that’s how she feels towards you when she rocks up late from patrol and sees you fast asleep bundled up in your blanket all warm and docile. she’ll slide in right up next to you and effortlessly lift you to practically be on top of her, kissing your warm cheeks muttering “how are you so fucking cute? you are so adorable. what the fuck.” which only intensifies when you whine a little because she woke you up. if you couldn’t hear what she was saying, you might think she was actually mad at you but she’s genuinely frustrated that you’re so cute.
• she’s not the most affectionate in front of other people, and she might joke around with others but ultimately she worked hard to appear intimidating in a world now dominated by men and she likes to keep up an image that leans more towards stoic. however, she will let you clamber all over her and cling to her jacket wherever you go. her one exception to not initiating PDA will always be when you’re looking for somewhere to sit, as she will always pull you to sit on her thigh - and it’s the best seat in the house.
• her preference is to fuck you with her strap, and honestly she can get off just from getting you off like that, however - once in a blue moon, often in the middle of the night when abby can’t sleep and is craving that skin on skin contact she’ll push your thighs up and grind her own cunt against yours- holding you down and bumping it against yours until you cum.
• much like her aversion to copious amounts of PDA, abby reserves the lovey dovey nicknames for your private time with the exception of the occasional “babe” which still makes you blush. however, if you’re being particularly difficult that day - she will forget your name completely and refer to you only as “brat”. it’ll make you pout and roll your eyes, but she’ll completely dismiss your complaint, leading you ahead of her with a “c’mon, this way brat.”
• she hates it when her pretty girl is stressed or anxious or scared, and if she notices the telltale signs of you displaying these emotions she’ll be sure to pull you aside or into another room to talk you down. she’ll squat infront of you, holding your hands as you weep, and gently swatting them away when you go to swipe your tears away, wiping them softly with her own fingers. “talk to me, pretty.” she’ll quietly demand and you’ll shake your head drawing in a stuttered breath. “s’not your problem abs.” you whine and she’s quick to shake her head in disagreement. “then make it my problem. i’m not letting you leave this room until you tell me how i can make it better.”
• if abby is the one that’s stressed or anxious, for some reason she just needs you to lay on her to feel better. hear me out, it’s something about the compression and your body weight that makes her feel like a person again- and your presence is just so calming to her. she’ll be laying awake beside you, mind racing before she’ll apologetically lift you and cradle you on top of her, and you’ll whimper at the intrusion of your sleep at first (and she’ll shush you so quietly and lovingly that it lulls you back into your relaxed state immediately) and then you settle and snuggle down because she is really comfy to lay on.
• strength kink. i feel like this is a no brainer, but she’ll do anything to display how strong she is, and how easy it is for her to overpower you at any given moment. she’ll fuck you standing up with you in her arms as she bounces you on her strap, or eat you out against a wall with your legs over her shoulders. abby is strong as hell, and she loves how weak and vulnerable you are to her, completely at her mercy.
• she’s super disciplinary. not even always in a sexual way, but she’ll always be telling you to “watch the attitude.” or asking “wheres your manners?” which always fixes your behaviour asap, fluttering your lashes at how dominant she can be. of course in the bedroom, it’s a whole different ballgame — she’ll spank you for being greedy but will always reward you with rubbing loving circles on your clit with a “see? such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”
• if abby is anything, she is a manspreader. she takes up so much space just to remind everyone that she’s in charge, and if you’re not perched on her thigh around others, or squished with your legs pressed together to make room for hers beside her, you’ll be sat on the floor between her wide stance with your cheek to her thigh, with big pretty glazed over eyes asking her for something.
• you’re always on her mind, so if she’s out looking for supplies without you and she sees something cute she thinks you’d like she always stuffs it in her backpack to bring back to you. she likes to gift you to reward good behaviour, abby passing a hand over your head gently as you grin at your new gift. “see, it pays to be a good girl, huh?” she’ll smirk with a slight eye roll.
stripper!natasha romanoff x lawyer!reader
synopsis: all natasha has ever known was chaos, until she met you. all that you had ever known was law and order, until natasha broke all your walls down.
word count: 2.6k
a/n: this is part 1 of a multi-part series! stay tuned for part 2 :)
“Danvers,” you called out to the bartender of the club, distracting her from the customer she was currently flirting with. With a sigh and irritated groan, Carol made her way over to you. “The usual, please. And…”
You looked over towards the podiums, where the dancers were performing. Carol gave a wisp of a smile, and offered, “...And the usual with her, too?”
Nodding, you forked out the cash and passed it to her, as the owner of the club began preparing your drink.
Waiting for the dancer to finish her set, Carol sat with you, her eye candy apparently gone off to a private room with another dancer. She had gotten used to your silence and mystery over the years, but still offered conversation topics nonetheless. You could tell the woman had taken a liking towards you, being one of the few decent clients, she mentioned.
“How’s work?” she asked nonchalantly, eyeing your loosened tie and work suit.
You took another swig of your drink, wincing as it slid down your throat. “Same old, same old. You made this drink extra strong today.”
“That’s what you get for interrupting me with that girl, earlier,” she replied, changing back the subject. “You have a girlfriend now? Wife, kids, maybe? You know I won’t judge.”
“What are you getting at, Carol?” You asked, beginning to get irritated. You wished the woman dancing on the podium could finish her set faster.
She shrugged. “Just…wondering. What’s an attractive, high-status lawyer working for one of the biggest firms in New York doing in this dingy strip club, all the way at the edge of town. I mean, I don’t shortchange my girls, they’re all hot, but…”
You dismissed the hand sliding up and down your tie, sitting up. “We all have our secrets.”
“And yet…I want to know yours. Everyone’s curious, you know, not just me, and…” her eyes travelled towards the woman you had your eyes fixed on for the night, “...especially her.”
She was met with a glare, as you began to stand and move to another side of the club, and Carol straightened up. “Come on, you’re no fun! I’m bored, entertain me!”
But your eyes were locked onto the very woman you were waiting for, having already finished her set and sauntering to the both of you. Carol caught a hint of a smile appearing on your lips that you immediately wiped off, and snorted. Turning back to her, you replied, “You know, I usually charge clients by the minute if they’re interested in my legal services.”
“You are such an asshole!” she laughed, watching her dancer get closer. “How much did my fee rack up from earlier? I’m the owner of this club, I can–”
Carol was cut off then, as a sultry voice came up to her. “–In the thousands, Carol. You couldn’t dream of ever paying it, you can’t even pay us on time. Now, stop stealing my toy away from me. It’s our private time.”
In the next moment, Carol watched as you were being dragged away by the Black Widow herself, into the largest private room in the building, her arms around your shoulders. She sighed, witnessing Natasha’s usual cold demeanour change dramatically whenever she was in your presence.
––
Amongst the dim lights and the pounding of the bass music, Natasha’s lips found your pulse point as her hips ground into yours, groaning at the friction.
“You can touch, you know,” she brought your hands to her ass, but they were gone right as she let go.
You shushed her whines. “And you know I don’t. Against the rules.”
“Ugh, you don’t have to be such a stickler for the rules in here too, you know. You’re not a lawyer when you’re with me.”
A chuckle left your lips. “And what am I then, love?”
“Mine.”
Natasha could feel your smile from where she was, sucking your skin purple as her hands circled behind your neck, her heart against your heart beating feverishly strong. She almost had half a mind to dip her hand into your pants to get you to do something, but thought against it. Even she had manners.
Because the truth was, you had been visiting her ever since you started working for Latham’s, the stress and pressure of working for one of New York’s best (and defending their worst) easily relieved through her. But your relationship, or addiction, as Carol would joke, had become so much more than anyone knew, in the secrecy of the club’s private rooms.
More than stress relief now, every occasion or special event, you would spend it on Natasha. Celebrations, promotions, bad trials, good trials, even some holidays, you would spend with her. And Natasha didn’t mind, no, especially not when you were her highest-paying customer who has shown her more respect and decency than anyone she has ever danced for in her entire career. Not to mention your tips and drinks were a heavy plus, too.
A friendship, or more, if Natasha allowed herself to dream, had been established between you two. She trusted you enough to break the club’s, and her own, rules to let you touch her, she liked spending time with you, and Natasha especially loved when you called her by her name, instead of the Black Widow moniker she let everyone else see. It made her feel seen, and her pride soar whenever her name tumbled from your lips. No one else knew her name in that club, no other customer but you.
Finally, when the beat stopped and the music began to fizzle out, Natasha tore herself away from you, your breaths heavy and hair tousled from her hands. Sometimes, she wondered how you could keep yourself so disciplined during her dances, when even she was struggling to tear off your clothes and have you all to herself.
You paid her an extra hundred to let you stay in the room for five more minutes, and she laid her head on your shoulder as you lit a cigarette and smoked on the couch. It was silent then, as Natasha watched the puffs exit your lips, wondering how they would feel against her own.
When the woman tried to take the cigarette from you for a puff on her own, you pulled it away from her. “No.”
“Why?” she groaned, “You won’t even share a cigarette with me? Maybe you are more stingy–”
“You think I’m stingy?” You suddenly turned to her, an expression on your face that she could not figure out.
“Well, no, of course not,” All at once the room felt very hot, as Natasha squirmed under your scrutiny. “You’re anything but that, but…why won’t you share your cigarette with me?”
The answer that she had least expected was, “It’ll ruin you. Don’t start smoking.”
She could have laughed, if your face had not been so serious. “Seriously? What do you take me for, a sixteen year old trying her first puff of a cigarette?”
“I’ve never seen you smoke. And…I don’t think you do either.” Natasha forgot how good you were at sniffing out lies and deceit as a lawyer.
So she huffed, and crossed her arms in protest. You found it so cute you let out a grin that she caught, smirking right back.
In the heat of the room and the silence of your heartbeats, Natasha picked up the courage to ask something that could have broken the boundaries of your friendship then. She had to know, “Why me?”
“Hmm?” Your reply was nonchalant.
“Why me? Why do you come here just for me? I don’t think I’m any special, certainly not to keep coming back for, and there are others…much hotter, much younger, than I am. I mean, even the Scarlet Witch is–”
“–Because you’re you,” you cut her off then, sitting up, almost wanting to leave. Natasha felt her breath caught in her throat as you continued, “You’re you. And I like you. I don’t think there should be any other more complicated reason than that.”
“But–”
“Natasha,” you warned, “Enough.”
At risk of upsetting you even further, she sat back, defeated. Natasha didn’t know how to feel, much less have an explanation for why there were tears in her eyes then. She refused to cry in front of you, as she swiped at her eyes furiously, botching some of her makeup.
But it was then that you sighed, and she knew you heard her soft sniffles at such. Not sparing a look at her, to save her dignity, you suddenly asked, “Would you like to get dinner with me?”
It took her by surprise, having never seen you outside of the walls of the club. And in the years that she had known you, you had never asked for something like this before.
Still, conflicted as she was, Natasha said yes.
–
You brought her to a Japanese izakaya, on the Upper East Side. Sitting in your Mercedes Benz that night, Natasha felt much too exposed, too lowly, of her clothes. And you, picking up on her discomfort, offered her your suit jacket to don. She smiled, seeing the purple hickey she left on you even in the dim light of the car.
The place was quiet, save for a few businessmen having late-night drinks. After all, it was well past midnight, so it was less of a dinner than it was for a heavy supper. But Natasha had not eaten, and as you ordered the finest cuts of meat they had to offer, and the expensive bottles of sake, she found herself controlling the urge to swallow everything quickly.
It was only halfway through the meal, and when you two were alone in the restaurant, that you spoke softly, almost as if ashamed, “I made partner today.”
Natasha felt herself freeze. But carefully, she placed down her chopsticks, and raised her shot glass to you. “Congratulations! Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I could’ve–”
“It’s not a big deal,” you said sheepishly, not wanting to hear the end of her sentence, “I just…I just wanted someone to celebrate with.”
The woman clinked her shot glass against yours nonetheless, head leaning on your shoulder as the both of you finished the bottle throughout the night. She had never felt safer, or warmer, in the years that she had started her rough career as a stripper in that nightclub, and being with you then, warm alcohol coursing through her veins and the soft music playing in the restaurant, she wished that there could have been more with you. You provided her the respite she never had, and she knew she provided something of comfort to you, to want to celebrate such a huge milestone with someone like her.
–
“Where do you live?” You asked her at the end of the night, in the back of your car with a driver hired upfront. Although a little tipsy, the question immediately sent a chill down Natasha’s spine. She stared at you, as you stared back at her, and you wondered if she heard your question.
“Natasha, I said, where do–” But she was already unbuckling her seatbelt and unlocking the door of your car.
“–It’s fine. I’ll walk home.” She replied, getting out, and in your astonishment, you sat there for a minute or two to process what she just did. It was nearly three in the morning, and you were on the Upper East Side, far away from where you guessed someone like Natasha would live.
Cursing under your breath, you told the driver to stay put, while unbuckling your own seatbelt and chasing right after her. She was about a block or two down, but you were quicker, and managed to catch her arm as she nearly jogged her way down.
“Hey, hey!” You stopped her as she struggled, clearly more than tipsy by then. “Natasha! Where do you think you’re going?”
“Home!” She cried, suddenly hostile, “And I don’t owe you anything! You don’t get––you don’t get special treatment––I don’t have to sleep with you––Just because you treated me to dinner and drinks tonight!”
You blinked in surprise, wondering where her sudden outburst came from. And then, a wave of insecurity that you had given off any other vibe than being friendly towards her hit you. It was never in your intentions to make her feel less than she was, and guilt began to eat at your heart.
Stepping back and letting her arm go, you replied quietly, almost in disbelief, “I…I––That was never my intention. I’m not taking you home to sleep with you, or do anything to you, for that matter. I just want to send you home, because it’s late and you shouldn’t be walking home alone like this, that’s all. I’m not looking for anything, and if you…if you don’t trust me, I can get my driver to send you home. I’ll take a cab. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way, I just don’t feel safe if you’re not safe, Natasha.”
There were tears in her eyes again that night, and you tried to conceal the tenderness in your heart at seeing her so vulnerable. It should never have gotten to this, you knew. You shouldn’t have asked her out to dinner, you knew. Nothing was worth your efforts, if it led to her being upset in the end.
But soon enough, Natasha slowly nodded, and you took it as a prerogative to walk her back to your car, maintaining a safe distance in case she was still upset.
Opening the door and letting her in, you were just about to shut it again when her hand stopped you, landing on your wrist.
“Y-You can come, too.”
“It’s fine, I’ll take a cab home,” you smiled at her, but Natasha’s grip remained firm.
“Stay, please.”
––
Natasha lived in a one-bedroom apartment downtown, nearer to the club than it was to your apartment, and you could sense her hesitation as the driver pulled into her area.
“I can walk from here.” Twice she has mentioned, but you assured her that you were not going to judge her, and that it was still unsafe to be alone.
In the end, as the car came to a stop, she hesitated again before stepping out. So you opened the doors for her, and offered her your arm to help steady herself while she walked up the doorstep. She took it gratefully, but as you waited for her to unlock the door, she let go of you and tried to compose herself.
But as soon as she tried inserting her key, the door clicked open, and you caught her from falling forwards.
A man probably a few years older than you appeared, in a wifebeater and breath reeking of stale beer. You winced as he glanced at Natasha, before pulling her in roughly.
“Who the fuck are you?” he spat, “And why are you with her?”
You controlled the urge to punch him as he shoved her inside without a care in the world. “A friend. And you are, sir?”
“Her fucking boyfriend, so get out of here before I call the cops for ringing my doorbell at three in the morning and getting my girlfriend drunk. She’s got work tomorrow, you know!”
You nodded unwillingly, but seeing a tiny dash of fear flash across Natasha’s eyes as the man berated you, something flickered in your system. You knew you couldn’t show your concern for her so openly, so instead, you reached into your pocket for your wallet, and brought out your business card.
Slipping it into your suit jacket she was still wearing, you said loud enough for the both of them to hear, “My name card, if either of you need legal services at any time. Just drop me a call.”
Her boyfriend snickered, before slamming the door on your face. But the meaning was clear to Natasha. Call me if you need anything.
Look I know it’s been a min since you did the first kiss prompt thing but I was lurking since I’ve been mia so hush.
'' it's cute, this thing you're doing. '' '' being all nervous? ''
but I can’t decide between Kate Bishop or Haiz soooo cheers you decide 🖤
“It’s cute, this thing you’re doing,” you said.
“Being all nervous?” Kate asked.
“Is that what it is?”
“What else would it be?” She said, frowning.
“Hmm, dunno. But still cute,” you teased, booping her nose with your index finger. The archer’s face was flushed red, her blue eyes dilated as she looked at you. The two of you were sat on the couch in her apartment, or what was left since she’d been too busy to refurbish anything after the recent fire.
“We don’t have to do this, KitKat,” you said quietly, your hand grabbing hers gently, rubbing your thumb over her knuckles.
“I want to!” She exclaimed. “Sorry.. I want to. With you. I do, really,” Kate rambled.
“Okay then,” you whispered. Your free hand cupping Kate’s face. She closed her eyes and you leaned in to press a quick kiss to her lips.
“What?” Kate asked, her voice deep and raspy.
“You asked me to kiss you! So I did,” you said, smirking.
“I-“
“What’s wrong, pretty girl?” You teased.
“I.. I want a real kiss,” Kate whispered.
“And that wasn’t real?” You asked. The archer shook her head. The two of you had been friends forever and out of the blue she asked you to kiss her. The two of you had feelings for each other of course, unsaid still, but feelings nonetheless.
“No… please?” Kate blushed again.
“Alright, let’s do it then,” you said. Letting go of her hand, you stood up and pushed Kate further into the couch, straddling her lap quickly as her eyes widened in shock. You wasted no time grabbing the sides of her face and pressing your lips to hers gently. Kate moaned in response, your hips moving against hers as your lips moved together. You slid your tongue over her bottom lip, asking for permission before you slid it right into her mouth, exploring her taste.
The two of you both breathless as you pulled away, Kate’s hands on your hips as yours rested on her face. “I can’t believe we waited so long to do that,” Kate breathed.
“Me too. Glad you finally asked,” you teased.
“I’m glad you said yes,” she laughed. You gave your hips another roll into hers and she whined.
“Please?” Kate asked.
“Anything for you baby,” you said, pecking her lips and climbing off of her lap.
