Natasha Johansson + Wanda Olsen One-Shots

Natasha Romanoff - 20 Questions

Summary: friends with benefits, to friends leads to a jealous Natasha. What will she do about it?

Warnings: I mean, no direct smut. But heavily implied. Swearing.

Based off the song "20 questions" because it's hot not going to lie

Natasha Romanoff's POV:

I shouldn't feel the way that I do. It's my fault. We were never together, not officially anyway. Friends with benefits was more the correct term for what we had going on. But we were never just friends, at least not to me. I was attracted to her as soon as I laid eyes on her. She's confident, calm and collected. Not afraid to put anyone in their places, physically or verbally and it was hot. She was hot.

We quickly became close, and were always seen together be it at training, eating, we even became mission partners after they saw our ability to read each other. It was on the Quinjet on the way back from one of these missions that we first kissed.

"Natasha" she called out to me whilst I was trying to her some shut eye, the Quinjet on auto pilot. It had been a long mission. Not literally long, it had only been 48 hours, but we were stuck surveilling a targets property, which is my least favourite kind of recon mission. 

"Pst, Natasha" she called out again from where she sat next to me, clearly not impressed by the lack of response. I knew she'd know I wasn't asleep anymore, but equally I was hoping she'd know that whilst I knew she knew that I wanted to sleep and to leave me alone. I was wrong. Or I was right and she didn't care.

"I swear to God, Y/N this better be important" I groaned sitting up from where I was lying down to face her, there was not malice in my words, I couldn't be mad at her, and I could swear for a second I saw a flash of guilt cross her face before she continued,

"If you could be an animal-" she started and I let out the sigh I was holding in, I knew it

"For fuck sake..." I started, and she stopped and looked at me, a smile daring to break out on her lips

"No really Natasha" she said practically whining at this point, and I raised my eyebrow at her,

"Y/N. I love you. But we have had n0 sleep in over 48 hours. I am very close to murdering someone, shut up" I swear I heard her breath hitch at the start, but in my exhaustion I quickly ignored it and carried on,

"Make me" she whispered, and I turned to look at her, suddenly feeling far more awake, whilst her eyes were wide as if she couldn't believe what she just said,

"You want me to murder you?" I asked slowly, confused, unsure, and she simply chuckled quietly shuffling closer to me, bringing one hand up and rubbing her thumb across my cheek,

"There are many ways to get someone to shut up without murdering them" she quietly replied eyes flickering to my lips, and back to mine, I was unsure if I was reading the signs wrong, I was tired. I didn't want it overstep, my next words weren't my smartest,

"Well yes, torture, removing their voice box, gagging, just plain intimidation works as well-" I started rambling off the ways I knew how to get people to be quiet and she once again chuckled watching me closely, eyes scanning my entire face, before she seeming found what she was looking for,

"Shut. Up" she said, and her lips crashed against mine. It was rough. It wasn't soft. Yet her lips were. It was filled with need and want. We were tired. Stressed. Had pent up energy from being cooped up doing recon from a one room apartment that was smaller then the jet we were currently making out on. This didn't mean anything. It couldn't.