A/N: I don't write very often but this has been stuck in my mind since the first time I saw the movie. Honestly, I'm not even sure where this thought came from. But I tossed in a recent kink I've discovered personally and wrote this at like 7 in the morning. So yay! I'm considering doing a small continuous series like this – little vignettes with other characters – but I'm not 100% sure. If you have an opinion on this, please feel free to let me know. Enjoy!
Warnings: Darkfic and smut. If it's not your thing, you might want to go away. This is unedited and unbeta-ed so forgive me if there are any weird things here and there. Also, I think the formatting is going to look a bit weird, so please bear with.
"Are you afraid of me?"
The team had disbanded. Everyone had separated and gone home. Everyone, except the two of them.
He had approached her at the beginning of the end, with apologies and flowers; explanations that she didn't really deserve. Not when she had provoked him initially. No, not him. It. She had gone with him to appease her sense of guilt and left without a second thought. Until the first night of calm came.
The fingers that were playing along her spine inched downwards and turned to cup her side. Slowly, they traveled until they met her right hip. Then they closed with a bruising force – she gasped, unable to control the shiver that wracked along her curvy frame.
She hadn't been able to get the image out of her head. The green monster, storming after her, leaving wreckage and possible corpses in its wake. Never in her life had Natasha been so afraid. Never had she felt an emotion so potent that it affected the way she did her job. And never was she as surprised as she was now, at the secondary feeling that came with it.
She had been the one to approach him afterward. No apologies, no ulterior motives. Just a need – a burning want that devoured her as easily as it had devoured him. She made her intentions perfectly clear – it certainly didn't take him very long to turn over to her side. But her reasoning behind it, well...
"I've never been as afraid as I am when I'm with you."
The other hand came up to mirror the one on her right, digging into her flesh as he leaned himself over her back, biting at the nape of her neck. He chuckled, and the warm sound was physical against her flesh as goosebumps broke out over her.
During sex, his voice became it's and Natasha writhed as an automatic reaction. She ground herself back against his crotch, willing him to get on and just give her what she craved. But she knew it wouldn't be that easy – she wasn't the one in control. Neither was he.
She groaned out his name and drove herself backwards again, as if the motions of her body could reason with him. Even though she was nude and he was not; even though she could feel the fire of his erection through his pants – she knew that nothing would happen until it wanted her and not a minute before.
Natasha was a proud woman, completely in charge of herself. But too many disappointing nights with her own hand and too many shameful moments picturing Clint as someone – something – else had led her to become very desperate.
She put the best whine in her voice that she could manage. A wounded sound, one that could evoke many different reactions. She got the one she desired as she heard a low grunt; felt without looking that he was practically tearing off his clothes to get to her. When she felt his cock enter her, Natasha let loose a pathetic noise that was filled completely with satisfaction. She thrust herself back against him, attempting to angle him deeper. Her nails tore at the bedsheets as she felt his sink into her hips. She knew they weren't even long – the doctor kept himself very prim and proper – but his will was breaking and it was beginning to leak through to the surface.
She knew he wouldn't change himself into that form for her. She'd discussed it with him at length when they first started their little meetings. Too risky, too uncontrollable, he cried. Not to mention the sheer size difference. Some girls wanted it big but really now, how would that even be possible? But Natasha learned through each delicious fuck, just how to bring the animal out in him. Little by little.
His pace started slow and she fought not to beg him to rush. Truth was, she enjoyed it slow. It felt as though he were teasing her the whole way. The doctor's cock was of average length but decently thick and she was so tight that every single centimeter of his flesh was felt and appreciated a hundred times over. She arched her back as he slid his way home, gasping when he pulled out almost all the way before plunging himself back in. A broken cry came out from her then, all pretense of being silent long gone. Natasha began to pant as if she had been running a marathon - or as if she were being chased. That thought alone brought about a heady rush of emotions and she whimpered as her pleasure intensified.
"Sick little bitch."
A low laugh and then another deep thrust came after the insult. Never would such words come from the mouth of the kind doctor. Especially not with a growl - it's growl - that caused her breath to catch in her throat. Natasha turned her head to sneak a glimpse of him and she felt herself freeze. His face... It was twisted into a snarl and so much like its that she choked out a high pitch groan as she felt every nerve in her body tense. He caught her eyes and gave her a wicked grin before putting his hand on the back of her neck and squeezing. She got the message and turned her head back around so that she didn't face him. Didn't get to see the look of the creature cross the face of the good doctor. But just that one little look had brought her so close and as she muttered Russian obscenities under her breath, she knew that she had to get his attention. She waited until he had removed his hand from her neck before she turned her head to stare at him again, her eyes filled with fire.
He stared down at her, shocked that she'd spoken in such a manner to him. They had rules in place and she was definitely breaking a big one. She smirked at him and blew him a kiss, daring to be arrogant even while Bruce slowly and brutally fucked her from behind. His speed faltered for a second and she repeated herself, this time with a bit more of a purr in her voice.
"I said fuck me, you disgusting monster."
Natasha was flipped onto her back before she even knew what was happening, the speed in which he moved her borne of something entirely inhuman. He was back inside her before she could make a sound and the force of his entering thrust made her sit up and grab her thighs, her nails leaving bloody trails along her skin. She wasn't up for very long however, as he put both his hands around her neck and pushed her head back into the bed. He squeezed once.
"Are you trying to make me angry? You won't like me when I'm angry..."
His pace was faster now and his thrusts far more powerful. The look on his face was enough to almost bring her. It was as if there was an ocean of anger and it was somehow slowly simmering. It was a warning. Don't push it. You should tread very carefully here.
"A-Actually, I think I would."
She managed to gasp out that one last thing before the rage sparked in his eyes and his hands closed around her neck. The air circulation suddenly cut off from her body made her dizzy and made things low in her body start to churn. She could feel her orgasm closing in on her as Bruce slammed into her as fast as his hips would let him. Her legs became a vice around his back, much like the one he'd made around her throat. Her body was running out of oxygen and she started to flail, feeling her eyes beginning to roll into the back of her head. She had a single moment of mental clarity and her sight focused as she saw his face. Was his skin a light green or was that her dying brain playing tricks on her? Was she just tightening around him or had he suddenly increased in size? She saw the teeth – his snarl – as his mouth opened in a wordless scream and it was enough. Natasha came, her body convulsing, every part of her locking up as she saw fireworks in her vision.
And then, nothing at all. Everything went black.