Disclaimer: Don't own anything.
Untitled 2 (Not good with titles)
So…Clarke did something rather embarrassing.
Her hands gripped the sides of the lab table, moaning, glad that the blinds all over the windows of the lab were closed, as Bruce Banner pounded into her from behind.
As she had learned over time, Bruce liked doggystyle. A lot.
Seriously, the first time they had sex and Bruce had practically growled for her to go to her hands and knees on the lab table, and had watched him unzip his pants, she had been shocked.
Because how would she predict something like that. Dr. Banner, Mr. Timid, Mr. Polite, liked doggystyle?
She couldn't say that she was disappointed when she had found that out.
So, she had happily bent over the table and had allowed Bruce to go to town, pounding her pussy from behind.
In any case, that was how she and him usually had sex. Had been having sex for the most part, almost a year and a half now.
So, Clarke supposed that she might have gotten calm and had figured that she wouldn't fuck up.
However, during one particular vicious thrust into her cunt from Bruce, Clarke's vulnerability must have spilled out, and the word past from her lips.
"Daddy….," she moaned.
As soon as she said that and she suddenly understood what she had said, she gasped, about to pull away from Bruce, terrified he might look at her with disgust or pity or would laugh at her or something, but she felt hands on her hips, pulling her back.
She gasped, feeling Bruce more fully inside her now.
Bruce just kept pounding away at her, not saying anything, panting in her ear as he rammed into her.
When Clarke came, clenching around Bruce, and collapsing against the table, then felt him come inside her a second later, making her smile as he moaned against her bare right shoulder, she hoped that Bruce hadn't heard what she said. Hadn't heard her lose control like that.
Unfortunately, she soon learned that she wasn't all that lucky.
Two days after that word had slipped past her lips in throes of heat and desire, Clarke walked upon Natasha and Bruce, both of them waiting outside of her room, Natasha leaning back against the wall and Bruce, looking at Clarke awkwardly, but excitedly.
"Bruce? Nat?" She asked, "What's up?"
"Oh, nothing, devushka," Natasha crooned and Clarke felt herself stiffen, knowing almost instantly where this was going, "Except, I think perhaps your…daddy wants a repeat."
Clarke felt the blood drain from her face. Oh, shit.
She then glared at Bruce, who offered up a nervous grin. She then glared at Natasha.
"Really, Nat?" Clarke grumbled.
"Really," Natasha said dryly, "You like referring to Bruce as that?" She lifted herself off of the wall and walked over to Clarke, leaning forward and practically growled, "I want you to call me that too."
Clarke's eyes widened, her mind slowly processing what it was that Natasha had just said.
Natasha wanted her to call her…? Oh, shit.
Again, Clarke was hit with a huge shock.
Clarke squeaked the word out, "Daddy?" She squeaked, almost feeling like she could kick herself, as soon as she said it.
She was a Class 10 zombie, she ate people, she was one of the most feared zombies ever.
And she just had squeaked the word, "daddy" out.
How embarrassing.
Natasha, on the other hand, did not appear disturbed or disgusted.
If anything, her smile widened.
"Good kitten," Natasha said seductively. She raised her right hand to Clarke's throat and her fingers wrapped around Clarke's collar. "Now," she continued, a predatory look also in her eyes, "Why don't both your daddies have their fun with your wet hole?"
Clarke groaned. Shit. Shit, shit, shit and shit.
"You…," Clarke moaned again, "You want me to call both you and Bruce, 'daddy?'"
"I wouldn't tell you to if I didn't," Natasha growled, stroking her thumb against Clarke's neck, "Unless that is, you want to use your safe word, kitten?"
Clarke shook her head, heat becoming overwhelming between her legs. "No, I want to," she pleaded.
She watched as both Natasha and Bruce grinned.
It was too late, she knew.
She was going to let them fuck her within an inch of her life. She'd be crying out, "daddy" today, not "mistress" or "master."
Bruce opened up the doors to Clarke's room and Natasha pulled her inside, Bruce following them.
When the doors of Clarke's room closed up and the lights were on, Natasha dragged Clarke to the bed and tossed her down on her chest.
Clarke felt the dip on the bed and knew that Natasha and Bruce got up on the mattress.
Clarke could feel her clothes being taken off and she gasped as she heard Natasha's breath by her ear, speaking lustfully, "You want both your daddies in you, don't you?"
Clarke gulped and nodded against the mattress. "What was that?" Natasha asked, clearly wanting more than just a nod.
Clarke groaned. Dammit. Natasha was going to make her suffer this humiliation more than twice?
She groaned out, "Yes, daddy. I want both of you in me. Please, daddy."
She heard Natasha chuckle, then heard Bruce groan.
"Who fucks her pussy first?" Bruce asked huskily.
Clarke could almost feel Natasha's threatening gaze aimed at the doctor, as soon as Bruce asked that silly question and Bruce said nothing about it after that.
Because who the hell did Bruce think would get to fuck Clarke first?
Clarke did not want to think about anyone standing between Natasha and her. Not even another one of Clarke's romantic partner soulmates.
Clarke wasn't sure she'd want to see between all four Natasha, Hela, Laura and Carol, who were the most dominant. It would be a scary sight to see.
So, Bruce didn't get a say in this. Natasha got to fuck Clarke's cunt first.
Without question.
That was why, when Clarke's pants were down and she felt two fingers jam into her cunt, fingers thrusting in and out dangerously, making Clarke cry out, she knew Bruce would watch his mouth.
Natasha then stopped pumping her fingers, making Clarke whine. "Please, mistress," Clarke pleaded.
"That's not what you call me, kitten," Natasha warned, "You want me to keep pounding that cunt of yours? You know what to call me."
Clarke winced. "Please, daddy," Clarke moaned, "Please pound your whore's cunt."
She heard a pleased chuckle behind her, making her shiver, and she heard an envious laugh from Bruce.
"Good kitten," Natasha cooed, "Don't worry, daddy will give you what you want." She began pounding Clarke's cunt again, this time more viciously than before.
Bruce groaned, and settled for pushing his hands under Clarke and grabbing Clarke's breasts from under her, hands fondling Clarke's breasts, making her moan.
Natasha said to Bruce, "Come over here, Banner. I promised that she'd get both of her daddies inside her."
Bruce kept his right hand on one of Clarke's breasts, still groping, his left hand reaching behind Clarke and pounding Clarke's pussy with Natasha's fingers. Between the two of them, Clarke had four fingers sheathed inside her.
"Keep calling us 'daddy,' kitten," Natasha ordered, and Clarke could feel Natasha's hungry smile when the redhead said it, "Come on, kitten."
Clarke moaned, feeling the pleasure begin to tear through every fiber of her being.
"Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy," she moaned helplessly.
When both Natasha and Bruce curled their fingers inside their sub, she bucked her hips hard and felt the pleasure tear through her, her eyes rolling up into her head, and she cried out. She felt her cum spill out to slick along her thighs, as she came down from her pleasure, Bruce and Natasha both pulling out of her.
Clarke gasped, shivering, when she heard Natasha ask, "Kitten, is our strap in your drawer?"
Clarke nodded weakly. Oh, boy. "Yeah," she mumbled, "In the top drawer."
She felt Natasha get up off of her bed. She didn't keep many toys in her room. If there were toys involved, usually Natasha, Maria, Pepper and Tony kept them.
Laura had a few at her and Clint's house too.
Clarke only had a couple of toys. But one toy in particular, the strap-on, clearly was of interest to Natasha.
Natasha headed to Clarke's dresser, opening up the top drawer and pulled out the strap. As Clarke heard Natasha buckle on the strap-on and heard Bruce unzip his pants, she groaned, feeling heat spread to between her legs again.
Oh, she was going to have both her daddies inside her today, alright.
Note:
More pointless smut.
And yes, I just wrote this because I was inspired by TheSupremePineapple_33's chapter on Bruce Banner and Clarke in the NSFW list on Archive.
And I wrote this because of a lot of the fics that have Natasha Romanoff as a "mommy." Unpopular opinion: Natasha is a "daddy," not a "mommy."