#Natasha Romanoff is a good wife

[ordinalastronaut]

From Now Until Forever

a/n : a little something I've had in the drafts for too long. Do I have other chapters? yes. Do the other chapters involve a dog? also yes. Will they be posted? no clue.

summary : Maria is trying to figure out how to live after a life changing injury. Natasha is there to help.

Other tags: established blackhill, mentions of injury/scars, self doubt, SHIELD agents still are as dumb as rocks, everyone looking to Maria for help

word count : 2.7k

❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖

“No, I don’t want-” she sighed, looking up at the redhead who gave a slow, understanding frown.

“It’s not if you want it or not, Ria, it’s what you need,” Natasha outreached her hand once more to offer support, both emotional and physical. 

Maria took another breath and glanced around the gym, it was early enough for only a few onlookers, but still too many. She shook her head once more and braced herself on her palms before pulling one leg up painfully, then the second with a little less pain, and smothering a wince as she finally stood up to her full height. 

“See,” she tried not to sound too out of breath, “I’m fine.”

Natasha nodded once and went back to her own weights section, knowing Maria wouldn’t have this conversation right now. The brunette took the curl bar in her hands once more and began the set from the top, being more careful this time. And the next time. And the time after that. She would just have to be more careful.

It was the same thing she would berate herself after every fall she had for the last 6 months. Six months of desk work rather than missions with her team, 6 months of giving orders in the control room rather than boots on the ground, knocking down doors, and acing mission directives. 

She missed it, she had been great at her job but the universe had other plans for her and decided to nudge her in the form of well-timed enemy fire and a 100-foot fall from a helicopter. It left her physically and mentally scarred with the right side of her body spasming at seemingly random times and a well-earned fear of heights. 

She braced her core and pushed the memory aside, focusing on the burn of her bicep and the number of reps she had left. It was another 30 minutes (all without incident) before she and Natasha walked out of the gym and to their car.

“I think it’s a conversation we need to have again,” the redhead turned the engine over, opting not to look at the woman in the passenger seat. 

“How would the cane have helped me in that situation?” she willed her fingers still and buckled the seatbelt after a moment. 

“I’m not saying it would have, I’m saying with all of the work that you’re putting in at PT, you don’t… you don’t want to lose that because you had an accident at the gym,” Natasha chose her words carefully. 

Maria decided not to respond as they drove back to their shared townhouse in the suburbs of DC. It was the first purchase they made after the wedding just over a year ago. It was three stories of unadulterated home.

“Hey!” Phil smiled as he locked the door to his own townhouse, the one that shared a wall with their own.  

“You headed in already?” Natasha asked as she unlocked the front door. 

It was a motion that left Maria with more jealousy than she liked to admit now that her hands shook at inopportune times. Times like when she was racing to get through the door and into the bathroom after a long day. 

“Early bird and all,” Coulson shrugged. 

“May gets back from her mission today,” Maria translated to her wife. 

The redhead only hummed in response as she walked through the front door. 

“Still want to grill tomorrow?” the brunette leaned against the railing of their porch.

It was warming up to be a wonderful summer, something that had kept Maria going while she was recovering from the accident. Her physical therapist had promised her to be back behind the grill by the time the weather was nice.  

“Yeah, I’ll pick up the steaks after work,” Phil smiled broadly. 

“Grab burgers instead!” Natasha called from the top of the staircase where she had already pulled off most of her sweaty gym clothes. 

“Oh- right-” a flush of pink covered the man's pale features, “duh.”

The use of knives and forks simultaneously was still up for debate according to Maria’s hands and as much as she resented it, she knew Natasha’s suggestion was the right move. 

“Thanks,” she muttered and began closing the door, “see ya.”

“Bye Ria,” Phil gave a wave and walked towards the shared driveway. 

She waited until Lola roared to life to ascend the stairs, knowing Natasha would already be in the shower by the time she struggled to take off her own clothes. Sure enough, the sound of the shower hit her ears as she got to the landing. From there she twisted and turned, trying her best and biting back yelps of pain as she pulled each too-tight piece of fabric off her body. By the time she walked into the bathroom, she felt like she had just finished her second workout of the day. 

“Warmed it up for ya,” Natasha winked as she exited the shower. 

“Thanks,” Maria tried not to sound out of breath as she pecked the woman on the lips. 

The way the warm water hit her body felt sinful. Slowly, tight knots unwound and she felt more like her old self as her body cooperated better with her. If she didn’t look down at the angry scars that riddled most of her right side, if she didn’t think about the accident, she could almost feel like it had all been a bad dream. 

Of course, it hadn’t been a bad dream, it had been a day etched into her mind as reality. 

She blew out a breath and carefully buttoned each button of her shirt, making sure that all were fastened properly before walking downstairs and sitting on the couch. As much as she resented no longer being able to pull her hair back perfectly, she relished the time she was able to spend with Natasha every morning while she did it for her.   

“One day, you should let me have fun with it,” the Russian spoke from where she stood behind Maria, the brush moving easily through her hair. 

“One day, I’m going to shave it all off,” the brunette teased.

“If anyone could pull it off, it’d be you,” the Russian planted a kiss on top of Maria’s head. 

The two continued to get ready, Maria counting the morning (other than the fall) a success as she only fumbled while eating her eggs once.

“I swear it’s like they are trying to keep me from taking these,” she pressed down on the lid of the pill bottle once more and sighed as finally she was able to retrieve the tablets. 

Natasha just shook her head and smiled. 

The woman had been a godsend after the accident (and before it if Maria was being honest with herself). She had stopped going on missions for the first 3 months as Maria was in and out of surgeries and appointments. After that, she had only gone on one and it was because the brunette had begged her to return to work, worried that Clint would go stir-crazy if he was grounded without his partner for any longer. 

Natasha cared for and loved Maria on days when the woman couldn’t open her eyes because of pain, and on days when she had locked herself away either due to the memory of the incident, or the realization that her life would never be the same. Every day the Russian showed up, and every day Maria appreciated her more. She didn’t pity Maria, she didn’t make her feel like something broken, she only helped her in the ways she could. 

“Are you still on the power surge case?” The Commander popped the pills into her mouth and washed them down with a sip of coffee.

“Yeah, but Coulson said we might hand it off now that it looks like it needs more manpower,” Natasha reached over and took a sip of Maria’s beverage. 

“What team?” She prodded. 

“Don’t know,” the redhead shrugged.

“Bullshit,” Maria called without any real hint on if the spy was lying or not. 

Still, she wanted to know if the case was going to be pushed to her old team. She had read the overview of the mission and it sounded right up their alley.

“Really,” Natasha shook her head, “now let’s go.”

That was all the tell Maria needed to know that it was indeed going to be pushed to her old team. Natasha never instigated their leave in the morning, if it was up to her they would roll up to the gates 10 minutes late every day. 

The brunette didn’t push it and stood to her full height, wincing as her leg protested after being in the same position for the better part of an hour. 

“Let me drive,” she instead smiled knowing damn well she wasn’t healed enough to drive Natasha’s Corvette.

“Not a chance,” the Russian laughed airy and bright as she grabbed her bag and the keys by the front door.

“One of these days,” Maria whispered as she pulled on her own bag and headed out the door.  

As with most days, the brunette worked in her office only for a handful of hours before she was called into the control room to take command of a mission gone wrong. This time in the form of a squad infiltrating a trafficking ring that was much more active than originally assumed. The situation took hours.  

Her hands were the first to go, shaking and spasming as she directed the team in front of her as hour two set in. She clenched them tightly and pushed off the feeling of pins and needles. By the time hour four passed, her legs were little more than bones keeping her upright. She favored her left heavily as the last of the agents made it to the extraction point. 

“Great job team,” she spoke into the headset and to the people around her, “Ruiz go ahead and take over for evac.”

She turned, moving her body slowly as pain flared along the entire right side and into the left. The three stairs in front of her looked more like mountains to climb as she approached them. The first took a matter of seconds to ascend, the second a little longer. Frustrated by the speed she tried to take the third a little more quickly. 

Her body, however, did not want to take it any faster and as pain shot up her leg, her foot clipped the top step and Maria Hill fell to the ground. The exhaustion of the day had taken its toll on not just her legs, but her arms as well and she was unable to stop her body from falling full force onto its side.     

Agents were around her immediately, all of them talking quickly and offering hands. Her embarrassment was prominent as a blush covered her cheeks. 

“I’m fine,” she tried to shoo them away, “I’m fine I just-”

“Commander Hill, here,” one agent called out. 

“I can go get Coulson,” another offered. 

Over and over they tried to help her but it was just an annoying buzz to the brunette whose body spasmed and felt every ridge and groove in the ground. 

“Just give me a second!” she barked out as tears from pain started to form. 

“Move.” 

Fury’s voice was enough to send each and every junior agent scurrying away. Maria didn’t look at him as he crouched down next to her, leather and aftershave wafting off of him. 

“Can you stand?” his voice was low and she gave a hesitant nod, “Let me help you.”

She didn’t protest as he used his arms to help her stand, bracing her body against his. 

They walked, slowly, in silence until they got to his office door. He scanned his finger, then his eye, and waited for the locks to disengage. 

“Here,” he helped her walk to his couch, dropping her softly on the cushions. 

She used her left hand to massage open her right, unclenching her jaw and taking a sip of the water Fury offered her as soon as she could. Maria sat back on the couch, letting her head hit the wall behind her as she regained composure. 

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, trying to keep the emotion she felt out of her voice. 

“Don’t go down this path. Not again,” he huffed from where he sat at his desk, “I don’t want you to apologize for falling, I don’t want you to offer your resignation, I don’t want you to tell me how much of a risk you think you are.”

“Nick-” she started. 

“I mean it, Maria,” the Director fixed her with a stare, “you’re still my right hand, even if your own doesn’t work in the way it used to.”

She continued to massage her hand into cooperation. 

“It’s after five. You want me to call Coulson or Romanoff?” Fury asked as he picked up his desk phone.

“Romanoff,” Maria answered as she finally regained control of both hands. 

Ten minutes later, there were two quick knocks followed by a third. 

“Yeah,” Fury called for the Russian to enter. 

“Hey,” Natasha greeted them both, her bag and Maria’s already over her shoulder. 

“Have a good weekend,” the man dismissed them both, “ice your ankle and your shoulder Hill.”

Maria waved him off and offered to take the extra bag from her girlfriend who batted her hand away. Neither of them talked on their way back into the garage, both knew that Maria wouldn’t answer any questions until she was in the promised safety of the car or better yet, their home. 

“Did you see their changing the hours of the range?” Maria asked as they got into the car. 

It was the not-so-subtle way of her telling Natasha she wouldn’t talk about what happened until they were home. 

“Clint complained for 30 minutes straight before I reminded him that we don’t even use that range,” the Russian scoffed and climbed into her car. 

“Sounds about right,” Maria shook her head and reached over her body to use her left arm to buckle herself in.   

They were barely in the front door before Maria leaned heavily onto Natasha as the redhead carried them both into the living room. The Commander sucked in a breath as her body finally found the rest it had been seeking for 6 hours. She wiped at the tears streaming down her face angrily as Natasha left for a moment, only to return with two ice packs. 

“Spasm or fall?” her low voice was quiet from where she knelt in front of her wife. 

“Fall,” Maria confirmed. 

Natasha hummed in understanding, gingerly placing the two packs on where the brunette winced the most in pain. She took the pad of her thumb and softly brushed away the tears that still trailed down the woman’s face.

“It was a hard day,” the redhead said softly, “it’s okay to have hard days, Masha.” 

Maria tilted her head back until it rested on the back of the couch, hoping the tears would subside if her face was no longer vertical. 

They didn’t. 

“I can’t do this forever,” she spoke barely above a whisper, “I can’t keep living like this. Every day I’m afraid I’m going to fall and that I won’t-”

She shook her head as her voice broke. 

“It’s only been 6 months, my love, things will get better,” the Russian ran a warm, calloused hand over her arm. 

“What if they don’t? What if this is my life?” new tears welled in her eyes. 

“Then we will find ways to make it easier, together,” Natasha promised her. 

“I don’t deserve you,” she tilted her head to look at the woman next to her. 

“I know,” the Russian joked as she planted a kiss on her wife’s cheek, “now, what are we having for dinner?”   

Maria took a deep breath, sat up straight, and watched as Natasha sauntered into their kitchen. She was right, no matter if she continued to struggle with her injuries for a month or a lifetime they would work through it. Together.  

#blackhill #maria hill #natasha romanoff #marvel #phil coulson #nick fury #Natasha Romanoff is a good wife #yes you read that correctly #wife

[sytoran]

home is where the heart is ★ n.r

— 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ;; 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 & 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇

in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)

pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader

chapter summary ★ twitter's sole purpose is for you to thirst over your wife, the beach is a good place to spend time with your kids, and ogle at your wife in a bathing suit, but not a great a place to have sex. (lesson learnt).

warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, hard stuff: beach sex, doggy style, cunnilingus, daddy kink, SO MUCH thirsting

word count ★ 4.0k (get fed gremlins)

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

*****

In tandem with Tony Stark’s spontaneity, Steve Rogers’ unending enthusiasm, and the fact that you privately owned close to twenty beach resorts in New York alone, the lot of you and your other friends had a beach outing planned for that Sunday.

After the astronomically long time it took to get your kids dressed, beach toys packed, picnic dinner prepared, and everything loaded into the car, five happy L/N-Romanoffs finally kickstart their journey to the Westview Surfers’ Beach.

“SAND!” Emilia roars maniacally, once the five of you step foot onto the sandy shore. She’s gone like the ocean breeze, sprinting into the distance, grains of sand flying everywhere.

“Sea! Sea! Sea!” Emilio is equally as excited, already by the tide of the brilliantly blue ocean, following its ebb and flow with scampering feet and delighted cries. 

“Careful, Emilio!” Marina says, holding his hand, preventing her over excited brother from falling over. You can see the way she laughs along, kicking up water with her slippers.

Behind your eager children, you swing you and Natasha’s interlocked hands as you casually stroll along the beach, giving her a sweet smile. 

The sand that crunched beneath your feet was earthen and dry, such a gentle hue of gold, almost as grounding as the bright smile your wife returned.

“You look heavenly,” you murmur, bringing up the underside of your wife’s palm to press a gentle kiss to it. She flushes prettily, the sundress she’s adorning doing wonders to her skin tone and curves.

Natasha returns the softness, pressing into your side as you wrap a firm arm around her waist, hand cupping the curve of her motherly hips.

“Oy, lovebirds!”

At the sound of a distinctly familiar voice, you and Natasha spin around with bemused looks. From a distance, you can see Tony with a flamingo floatie around his hips, waving comically.

Next to him, the regular gang is sprawled across three separate picnic mats, conveniently hidden from the sun under several large beach umbrellas. 

Pepper is fixing up Tony’s floatie, to which Carol and Valkyrie snicker at from afar. Thor is asleep on the mats, taking up more than half the area. Laura is busy reading, with Clint probably gone to find seashells for the sandcastle Bucky and Steve are constructing. The kids make a long human chain from the shore to the sandcastle, scooping up buckets of water to make a trench.

“Aunty Y/N! Aunty Nat!” Nathaniel squeals, dropping his bucket, running over and leaping into your arms.

“What’s up, you little rascal?” you ask, laughing as the youngest Barton giggles. Natasha ruffles his head, waving at Lila. 

Morgan, being the same age as Emilia and Emilio, is already chatting excitedly with them and kicking up a loud racket. Marina joins Cooper in attaining bucketfuls of seawater.

“What’s up, my favourite lesbians?” Tony calls out to you and Natasha with outstretched arms, comically ignorant to the death-glare Valkyrie shoots him. 

Natasha rolls her eyes in faux annoyance, strolling past him and brightening up animatedly to chat with the ladies. You pat Tony’s back sympathetically. 

Your attention flits to an impressively large sandcastle with a sculpture of a mermaid on top, hand-crafted by Steve and Bucky. Leaning closer to Tony, you whisper, “Why does the mermaid kinda look like you?”

Leaving him to splutter at his intentionally uncanny resemblance to the mermaid, with a seashell bra and an elegant tail, you look up to see Clint coming back with his arms full of seashells. 

“Hi, Y/N!” He greets distractedly. In the midst of his frantic haste, Clint’s foot gets caught on a stray rock —

And the rest is a scene out of a comedy movie. 

The seashells go flying out of his arms, scattering onto the picnic mat and spraying sand everywhere, Clint loses his balance and flies forward, outstretched arms knock into the sandcastle, and everyone watches in horror as Steve and Bucky’s great unfinished symphony comes crumbling down, leaving only the head of Tony’s mermaid untouched.

A quiet hush falls. 

Bucky and Steve’s faces are morphed into disbelief and heartbreak, and Clint trembles in fear with sand in his mouth. Tony shudders at his beheaded mermaid, the ladies have their hands over their mouths, and Natasha fights battles in order not to burst out laughing. Thor sleeps unperturbed, and even the kids' racket has died down.

“Well,” you announce, breaking the stunned silence. “Who wants to go surfing?”

*****

As Natasha lazes in a beach chair, away from the gory scene of Steve and Bucky dunking Clint in the seawater, she watches you with a budding fire in her belly. 

Standing on the sand so casually, you have your hefty surfboard tucked under one arm, and Emilio in your other. You’re speaking to him with a roguish grin, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, tinted sunglasses pushed up to muss up your perfectly tousled hair. 

“You ready to ride the waves, bub?” 

“Yeah! I’m ready!”

Your wife swallows, thinking she was ready to ride something else.

Natasha crosses her legs unsubtly. It was honestly unfair, how indifferently attractive you were, like it was a state of being instead of a practised art. 

Perhaps it was her love for you and the longevity of your marriage that warped her perception of sexiness, but when you were casually strolling on the beach with that chiselled abdomen on display, who was she to be blamed?

“Y/N!” Natasha calls, sitting up slightly. There’s a devious little idea blooming in the back of her mind, and she feels like taking the bait, just for today.

You look up at your wife’s beckoning, and smile widely at her. Setting Emilio down gingerly and calling him a “little rascal”, you jog over to Natasha easily. 

When you flick your hair back, it glints in the sunlight, and so does the sheen of sweat under your sports bra, defining the cutting edges of your abdomen. Natasha has the criminal urge to rip off your swimming trunks there and then.

Despite your obliviousness, Natasha is more than well-aware of the stares you’re getting from young women and married women alike, momentarily disregarding their boyfriends and husbands to gawk at you.

“Damn, look at that fine specimen!”

“Ryan, why don’t you work out more?”

“There goes my heterosexuality.”

You get feasted upon hungry eyes like a slab of beef, likened to your beefiness, but it only makes Natasha’s possessiveness skyrocket.

“Hey, honey,” you say, settling on a low and inviting tone that has your wife blushing. You crouch down next to her beach chair, holding her hand in a sweet gesture. “What’s up?” 

You’re close to her, so close, and she can feel the heat radiating off you, and your distinct scent, and the overwhelming senses of want and need are washing over Natasha like those tidal waves in the ocean.

But well, Natasha knew more than a few ways to rile you up too.

“I think I want to go surfing too,” she lies through her teeth, having no inclination to partake in the sport. Natasha fakes a pout all too well, knowing it’s one of your many weaknesses. “But the sun’s really hot out there, so I need some help with the sunscreen.” 

It wasn’t like she’d have needed it, anyway. Just like that and you’re sold, ever the gentleman and the golden retriever, digging for the sunscreen in the duffel bag.

“Of course, honey,” you reply readily. “Is it the Banana Boat sunscreen, or is that the kids’ one? Oh wait, we have the SPF 50 one, I think that’s—”

Words trail off comically when you look back up at Natasha, gradually dying down completely.

Your wife has conveniently slid off her outer layer of a sheer white blouse, leaving her in just a matching two-piece set of an azure bathing suit. The top piece is held together with thin pieces of string, accentuating her chest in a tight cradle. The lack of coverage shows off the dip of her hips and her soft curves.

Coherent thoughts in your mindwires get severed as Natasha plays with the string on her bottom piece, nearly flashing you as the material slides down ever so slightly. Your throat dries up as her fingers trail a path over her tummy and cleavage. She plays with another bundle of string that keeps her chest barely covered, and the irresistible urge rises within you to undo it.

“My eyes are up here, y’know,” Natasha murmurs, laying on her side and looking at you through lowered lashes.

“I know where they are,” you answer hoarsely, gaze still fixated on your wife’s enticing cleavage.

The sheer amount of bare skin that Natasha is showing off has your remaining fragments of sanity falling to pieces. There’s no point even trying to hide the tent in your pants, poking uncomfortably against the fabric.

“Gonna help me lather sunscreen?” Natasha asks with a silky lilt to her voice, turning over on the beach chair. 

You groan out loud when you see the curve of your wife’s ass on display, her rounded bottom barely covered by a few measly pieces of material, all held together by flimsy strings and nothing else.

“Mhm,” you respond brainlessly, uncapping the bottle and rubbing your hands with a bountiful amount of the moisture, clearly in excess.

You begin applying your wife’s sunscreen with overzealous eagerness and desire. Large hands spread unnecessarily widely as you gain coverage over the soft skin of her back, trailing up and down and smearing the white moisture over her soft skin.

“Oh, that feels nice,” Natasha says airily, a dainty little sound that causes your cock to twitch in your shorts. 

The line down the middle of Natasha’s back is emphasised as she tenses and relaxes it. Like clockwork, you begin massaging your wife’s back to release the tension in her muscles.

“Y/N…” The breathy moan she lets out is pure heaven, dragged out from the depths of her throat, then lifting to a higher tone that washes over you in a sea of goosebumps.

Of course, your faux masseuse skillset is just a simple ploy to grope and knead at Natasha. Fat spills through your fingers as you spread your hands across her torso, as Natasha whines softly.

It wouldn’t take a genius to realise that the heat building between the two of you was not just due to the heatwaves under the beating, unforgiving sun.

Your frighteningly quickly-growing arousal only heightens when Natasha feels that her back is done and flips over. Face-to-face with her hefty mounds, a round belly, and the blown pupils of viridescent eyes — you lose the plot completely. 

Deft hands fly to your wife’s ample assets, squeezing her hips in sinful amounts and staking your claim. “You’re so pretty, baby,” you mumble, face buried into the crook of her neck, subtly mouthing at her neck.

“Mhm,” Natasha whines in agreement, but it turns into a gasp as your fingers slip underneath the material of her bra, plucking at hardened nipples in merciless haste.

You press down onto her, flat tongue and sharp teeth, licking a broad stripe up your wife’s exposed collarbone to the tender column of her neck.

Before you can taint clear skin with raging-purple bruises, you’re pulled away with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You look back up to see Natasha gazing at you sternly. 

“Let’s try not to perpetuate public sex while you are the owner of this place, with all our friends present, and the kids building sandcastles no less than ten feet away.”

Much to your disgruntlement, these factors weigh in heavily and overpower your body’s built-in “pretty-wife-need-to-worship” mechanic. Now, your shorts fill up a lot more space than need be, your shaft pressing hot and tight against your left leg, clearly visible.

You grumble, hands still clammy with sunblock, the ghost of Natasha’s warmth still interlaced between each of your fingers. “You’re a meanie,” you sulk, lust-driven adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Natasha looks at you with a wicked smile. “And you’re too susceptible, darling. Now, where’s my flask? I plan on staying plenty hydrated before watching you rough it out against the waves.”

Clearly put-off by not being able to fuck your wife in your public beach resort, you flip off a little kid who openly ogles at Natasha’s ass, much to your wife’s horror.

*****

“I’M NOT BUILT FOR THIS!” Tony screams, arms flailing, as he rides a shallow wave. His firmly implanted foot adds too much weight on the front of his neon yellow surfboard, and the over-eager man overturns comically as the current rushes.

You laugh out loud, Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, surfing past Tony in a smooth motion. “Stick to the flamingo floatie, little guy!”

Valkyrie barely dodges the splash Tony creates, nearly falling off her own board. “Fuck off, you cunt!” she yells, full-chested and deadly focused on the tide. From a distance in the shallower part of the ocean, a reprimanding “Language!” can be heard.

Natasha’s wading in the shallower waters with Laura, while Thor had opted to sun tan on the beach while watching the kids.

As a large wave approaches, Natasha watches with intent. Upon your wife’s new found attention, you mentally prepare yourself, determined to impress her, and perhaps get revenge for her prior ploy.

You manoeuvre deftly, putting weight on your back foot to stabilise as you approach the wave head-on. Three… two… one. You add even more weight on your back foot as you go around the back turn while gaining speed, garnering energy like a coiled spring.

As the wave reaches its full height, broad and steep, your calves release with impact, propelling up the barrel of the wave like a spring. The surfboard moves in effortless motion, anchored by your back foot, navigated by your right.  

The second you reach the lip of the wave, you find the sweet spot to execute the backside tail slide. You rotate your wide-set shoulders, swiftly switching the pressure to your front foot. 

Your surfboard glides off the surface for a split-second, turning mid-air — there’s a camera-worthy frame of damp hair, stray droplets, and focused eyes.

You slide back down at an oblique angle with purpose and precision, like a scene out of a movie, locking eyes with Natasha as the wave crashes behind you.

“Damn, Y/N!” Carol hoots, looking amazed as you surf back to the rest of the gang.

“That was crazy,” Steve adds, resting belly-down onto the surfboard, strikingly adorable for a hulking man.

“Gotta admit, that was pretty cool,” Tony comments, his head bobbing above the surface of the water and his surfboard nowhere to be found.

You laugh along with them, attempting to explain the technical jargon of how you did it. But as much as you appreciated your friends’ enthusiasm, there was ultimately only one person you sought validation from. 

“Hi,” you say to Natasha with a stupid smile, sitting on your surfboard, having escaped the rest. 

“That was very sexy of you,” your wife wastes no time in stating, as if she wasn’t five millimetres away from flashing you and killing you with her sexiness. 

Natasha is stuck on the image of your damp hair flying into place like a scene out of a superhero movie, unbuttoned shirt flailing up to expose your defined back and abdomen, concentration flashing in your eyes.

“Mhm,” you hum lowly. Fire burns low in your belly as you ogle your wife in her bathing suit, pulling her closer by the underside of her thighs.

In a moment of indiscretion, your left hand slips upwards and undoes the knot on Natasha’s bathing suit, letting the material slip from your fingers.

“Y/N!” Though blocked from view of the others as it was underwater, Natasha lets out a breathy gasp and presses into you. Her cunt, already soaked before, gets even wetter at the intrusion of seawater.

“Can I claim my prize?” you ask heavily, hot pants against your wife’s ear, driving her wild with the way your fingers slip through her folds to encroach on her entrance.

In no time at all, two of your fingers are at Natasha’s cunt, feeling slick even underwater, and you push in—

“Group picture!” Steve yells from a distance, as you and your wife effectively leap apart in the water, the heated moment dissipated into thin air. 

But it lingers, the arousal, swimming in the back of your consciousness as you smile for a group selfie. Bucky’s arm is around you but you thank the heavens for hiding your erection under the water.

You can tell Natasha feels the same, eyes locking on you even after Steve successfully takes the group picture. (After many attempts.)

“I’m gonna go check on the kids,” Natasha finally says, gesturing back as if she was going to walk back to shore. She’s expectant, waiting.

“And I think I’m gonna go check with her!” you add, chuckling awkwardly, beckoning backwards with your thumbs.

“Okay,” Steve says disbelievingly, eyes glimmering with knowing and just a little amusement. Tony is much less subtle in his sniggering, and Clint looks horrified at the prospect of doing it at the beach.

Tony claps you on the back as you walk past. “Use protection,” he whispers, and you fumble out a haphazard response. 

*****

Turns out, you and Natasha don’t even make it to a completely secluded area before you’re half-undressed and panting. 

And maybe that’s half the thrill, hidden in a secluded beach cave, with regular people roaming around just outside. You’re pressed skin-to-skin with each other and tuning out everything else.

You groan as you snap the strings of Natasha’s bathing suit off, finally, finally. Teardrop tits bounce in place, shaking with the impact of how hard you jerk against your wife, unbearably uncomfortable in the constraints of your boxers.

Natasha takes mercy on you, helping you to tug down your Calvin Clein briefs, watching with heady arousal as your shaft slaps against your six-pack, red and raw and leaking.

“Hurry up,” Natasha whines, bending over and clutching at a stray rock, ass in the air as she exposes her leaking cunt to you. 

“Fuck, baby,” you groan, grabbing onto her ass and slapping it just because you can. You sink deep into your wife, warmth and relief enveloping you as you bury yourself inside her.

The first thrust is like heaven, feeling the pulse and push of Natasha’s walls as she accommodates to take your size, stretching to a familiar extent because you’d made a nest in there for yourself. 

The second thrust takes you there, an insurgent amount of slick coating your cock, flooding the path you proceed to pummel into. “Natty,” you whine, groping at her ass and pulling it closer to you, hilt-deep with no signs of stopping.

“Mhm, daddy,” Natasha moans, walls fluttering around you as you pull out, trying to stop your escape. But then you thrust forward, again, warm and full and deep, and your wife wails beneath you.

Natasha lets this velvet sound from her throat, silky and coated in honey as she breathes reinvigorated life into your arousal.

“Fuck,” you growl, rutting your hips with more rigour. Natasha whines, wrists suspended behind her back with one of your hands as you have your way with her.

“Baby I’m gonna come,” you gasp, virility cloaking the way your abdomen presses up against Natasha, left hand encircling her neck to bring your hot mouth up to hers.

You’re hardly embarrassed for how fast you’re barrelling towards climax, as Natasha is in much more of the same position. She’s panting your name, clutching at the rocks with hard sand digging into her feet. Your cock nudges and prods into her sweet spots effortlessly, the result of countless sex experiences.

“M-me too,” she responds breathily, breaking off into a whine as you press heated, open-mouthed kisses along the line of her back, tasting the salt and sweat on your tongue.

Pleasure blossoms in your lower torso, creeping up the base of your shaft and working its way upwards. Hot arousal overflows from its constraints, and your teeth sinks into your bottom lip as you come, quick and hot and messy.

“Oh!” Natasha moans, high-pitched and sensitive, as you pluck at her ruby-hard nipples. It only takes a few more thrusts for her to reach release, dripping down your cock and her thighs.

“Mhm, nhn—” As your wife raises in pitch and volume, you stuff three fingers into her open mouth, giving her something to suck on and remain quiet. You continue with gentle thrusts, feeling thick white liquid flow out the side of Natasha’s ruined cunt.

“Needa taste you,” you suddenly grunt, hips bumping into Natasha’s ass. She babbles her agreement, despite being half-conscious in a state of post-orgasmic pleasure. 

Easily, you lift Natasha and set her down onto the sandy shore of the beach cave, where the tide is low and washes over your feet gently.

It’s a change of pace, a gradual end to your savage ravaging, slow and sensual, where the water meets the sand. You lower yourself between Natasha’s spread thighs, lips slightly parted and dripping with need.

Natasha swallows audibly, right hand twisting into your tousled hair, looking at you through hooded eyes and lowered lashes. 

Words are left unspoken between the two of you, the tension speaking for itself, as you retain eye contact while lowering your mouth onto Natasha’s pulsing cunt.

You take your last breath of the fresh sea salt air and summer breeze before drowning in unbridled desire. As if making out passionately, you eat your wife out, switching between licking and sucking.

Poetry is written between the lines — the lilt of Natasha’s hitched breath, the crease of her thighs where your fingertips drag across, the shallow water that wades over your feet in a cool decrescendo.

Your head dips down once more, warm and wet, and the sun melts into the horizon, glazing golden and liquid orange. 

With your tongue lodged fully inside your wife’s pussy, marking your inability to breathe, and wide hands spread firmly over Natasha’s thighs, the two of you converge in saintly devotion, hushed worship falling from her lips.

“Please, just like that, please, daddy, please.”

Just like that, and the ocean swallows you whole, taking you under Natasha’s hold inescapably. Your name is said in a breathless cry, lilting and pronounced, and you shudder between her clenched thighs.

“Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“I think there’s ocean water up my asshole.”

“Yeah, I got some sand up my vagina too.”

*****

and that's chapter two of 'hiwthi'! how did yall feel about the introduction of the rest of the cast? i personally enjoyed writing the build-up scenes the most. (sunscreen and surfing!) and for those keen on expanding the family dynamic, i'll be building on that in the next chapter!

reblog or i will take 292857192 years to post the next part

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

#⋆⭒˚｡★ home is where the heart is #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader smut #wlw smut #gxg smut #marvel smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha x reader smut #top reader #sub natasha romanoff #dom reader #bottom natasha romanoff #butch4femme #butch reader #femme4butch

[yanaromanov]

my sweet assistant

- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader

part summary: you take a position in assisting professor romanoff after classes to make up for a missed assignment. your flustered state only continues as you’re forced to spend one-on-one time with her, even more so when her wife is introduced into the equation…

part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, minor death, funeral etc. minors dni

authors note: this took me a bit longer to write and release than i would have liked thanks to my broken arm and writers block so apologies for that. but even tho i kinda hate it, it’s here now, so i hope you enjoy! :)

part two of the inescapable love series

inescapable love series

･ ｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

11.5K words

People say life comes with its ups and downs, something you had come to learn was rather true, but why did it always seem the downs came at the worst of times? A call from your mother was never really a good sign to begin with, usually her nagging being the only thing waiting on the other end of the line, but this time when you picked up and heard what she had to say, not good turned to terribly bad. It wasn’t the extent of the problem as such that worried you, more so the timing. Your Russian class had an assignment coming up, due in less than a week, and thinking you had enough time to get round to it, you still hadn’t started. Something that would have been totally fine if not for your mom’s name popping up on your phone last night and sharing news that would throw your entire schedule off.

The way your mom had picked up the phone had immediately informed you something was wrong, but a death announcement was certainly the last thing you had been expecting to hear on a Sunday night. It was your grandmother, on your dad’s side. She’d passed away over the weekend, finally giving up on the hospice care she’d been dependent on for months. The news itself hadn’t been too much of a shock, the old woman’s health deteriorating for years, and it didn’t much upset you either. You’d never really been close to your grandmother, your brother being the one favoured from your family, keeping you distanced whenever you visited her house. Your teenage self had already mourned for the relationship you had never had and that felt more painful than the actual loss in front of you now.

The main thing concerning your mind now was how you were going to complete your assignment. On the phone, your mom had told you she’d already booked the flights for you coming home, prepared for the funeral just that week, a quick turn around due the arrangements been made in advance from the anticipation of her death. It would see you in England the entirety of the week, leaving tomorrow afternoon and not returning until late Friday evening. Even with the extra days you had at home, the funeral tea and family gatherings would no doubt leave you no time at all to complete your assignment.

You knew what you had to do now, had done it many times before for other classes, but something about this time felt more intimidating. As you sat in the lecture theatre, watching your professor teach at the front of the class, your heart pounded in your chest at the thought of asking for the extension. More time alone would have to be spent with your Russian professor, the last time still lingering unwanted in your mind. The thought of speaking to her one on one once more was enough to send your anxious mind into a frenzy.

Desperately, you tried to cling on to the reality of things as your lesson continued. It was the day of the week where your class would practice your Russian speaking, conversing with one another whilst Professor Romanoff would walk around, listening in and correcting any mispronunciations. In the end, it would build up to the speaking exam the end of semester held, a private conversation that each student would have with your professor which was then graded alongside your written tests.

The girl sat beside you had claimed the spot as your partner when the first speaking lesson had started up, thankfully not the same girl who’d passed you dirty looks after your perfectly scored paper. The two of you worked through the worksheet in front of you, sounding out the words and building them up into a conversation. Your partner seemed slower than you to grasp the concepts, but you found you didn’t quite mind, allowing your thoughts the moments in between to plan exactly how you’d make your request to Professor Romanoff.

When the class had finally drawn to a close, everyone began packing up their things, worksheets handed back down towards the front. Professor Romanoff stood against her desk, collecting papers as she shouted out across the clamouring hall. “Remember your assignment is due on Friday everyone. Do not use google translate. I can tell!”

It seemed your class wasn’t paying her announcement much notice, instead focused on making it out of the double doors and out into the corridor. Like you had done before, you packed away your things slowly, lingering in the row of seats until almost everyone had left the room. Only when the last few stragglers were close to the door, did you begin your descent towards the central desk. Professor Romanoff stood wiping clean the board once again, back facing you. This time, however, you cleared your throat to make your presence known. The woman’s face was slightly bewildered as she turned, melting away immediately as she spied you standing across the way, a smile appearing on her lips instead. “Miss Y/L/N,” she said, wiping the chalk dust away from her hands and turning back to close the distance between you. “Is everything alright?”

"Uhm, yes," you said nervously, watching as the woman came to stand in front of you. "Well...no, but-" You shook your head, attempting to dispel the anxious thoughts that clouded your brain. Fingers began to fidget as you looked back up at your professor with a nervous smile. "I was wondering if I could possibly get an extension for the assignment?" The redhead in front of you raised a single brow, looking inquisitive to your scenario and hence, drawing more of and explanation from your chest. "It's just my grandma passed away and I have to fly back to England for her funeral this week. I'm not going to be back till Friday night and with all the travelling and family stuff and jet lag, I probably won't have enough time to do it." Your hands gestured about, trying to find anything else to do rather than anxiously pick at your nail beds. "I don't need a long extension, maybe just till Monday? I can get it done over the weekend when I'm back."

The spill of words finally fell short in the silent room, your blurting echoing ever so slightly in the emptiness of the hall. Professor Romanoff stood in front of you, today wearing a matching black skirt and blazer, a white shirt neatly tucked in. "I'm sorry to hear about your grandmother." Your gaze raised up to the pair of green eyes as she spoke, a soft expression held between her features. "Are you doing alright?"

The question had came unexpectedly. You shook your head as you answered. "Oh yeah, I'm fine." You smiled sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders. "We were never close."

"Well," Professor Romanoff replied, gaze softening further. "I'm still sorry to hear about her." She passed you a gentle smile as she stepped towards her desk, leaning against the front of it like it seemed she had a habit of doing. When she looked back up at you, her expression had changed. "As for an extension..." Her emerald stare met yours, always seemingly able to make you shy away. "You're a good student Y/N, so I'd really like to say yes, but unfortunately I have a policy against extensions."

Your memory fleeted back to the first day of class, suddenly recalling the rules your professor had set out. Extensions would only be given to those with medical absence, provided they had a document signed by a health professional. Only remembering that now, you felt entirely stupid for asking for the extension in the first place. "That's right," you blurted. "I'm so sorry, I totally forgot. Listen, forget I even said anything." You adjusted the straps of your backpack as you made to turn your body towards the door. "I'll try get it done on the plane or something. Thank you anyway."

You made it about three steps away before you heard your name being called out from behind you. Slowly, you turned your shoulders, looking back at the woman who still sat against her desk. "Yes, Miss Romanoff?" you called in response. A single manicured nail raised up, the finger curling to beckon you back in the direction you'd came. Biting down on the skin of your cheek, you turned fully, slowly closing the gap that had formed between you and your professor. When you stood in front of her again, you began to rub one of your arms nervously.

Professor Romanoff inclined her head towards you, a faint smile on her painted lips. "I can't give you an extension but I can offer you an alternative. Some extra credit that will cover the assignment, worth the same percentage of your grade. And I'll even give you the full marks."

Your head angled in both curiosity and uncertainty. The prospect of the extra credit sounded like just what you needed, but you couldn't quite grasp the notion that your professor was suggesting. "Full marks?" you asked. "As in, a hundred percent on the assignment?"

A painted smirk pulled at the corner of your professor's mouth, her body leaning ever so slightly closer to yours. "Don't act like it's such a miracle, sweetie. We both know what you're capable of, hm?"

As her words hit you, you could immediately feel the warmth they brought to your cheeks. Face feeling flushed, you tried to distract your brain, unfocusing on the perfect pair of lips still smirking in your direction. "What would I have to do for the extra credit?"

Professor Romanoff sighed, adjusting herself on the desk. You diverted your eyes as her arms crossed her body, once again pushing her slightly-revealed cleavage up against her chest. "Well, my assistant for this year pulled out on me last minute, which has left me just drowned in work." Green eyes met yours as a wide smile spread across the redhead's lips. "So, just give me a helping hand after class for a few weeks and the credit is all yours."

This proposal seemed almost too good to be true. Simply helping out your professor in turn for a perfect grade? It almost didn't seem fair. As you thought over her offer, the idea couldn't help but make you feel a little flustered. After all it would entail spending time alone with the red haired woman, something that seemed to leave you an oddly ruffled mess. But the entire thing sounded far too good to pass up, an opportunity practically laid out on a silver platter. Sounding easy enough to follow through with, you nodded your head with a smile. "Yeah, I can do that."

The smile on Professor Romanoff's face widened at your agreement. "Perfect," she said, green eyes glinting. "Can I see you back here next Monday? Say...three pm?"

You nodded once more. "Yeah. That works for me."

"Alright then," the redhead replied. She stood up from her desk, smiling down on you from the height accentuated by her heeled boots. "Don't you worry your pretty head about the assignment and I'll just see you here next week."

The words seemed to wash over you with a flush, something igniting inside that you couldn't quite put a finger on. Nervously, you looked to the floor, picking at the ends of your jumper while Professor Romanoff moved to stand behind her desk, seemingly unaware of your heightened nervousness. Before you could properly formulate a response, the other woman was already speaking once more. "Go on then. Don't want to be late for your next class do you?"

Her words seemed to shake you back to the present, that nervous little smile appearing on your face again. "Right," you said, adjusting your backpack. "Thank you, professor."

She smiled back at you. "It's no problem, honey. Now run along."

You found yourself nodding as you turned to leave, urged on by her commands. A few steps away she called out to you. "Take care of yourself, Y/N."

You looked back over your shoulder, flashing a small smile. "I will Miss Romanoff. Thank you." And with that, you were walking out the door, headed towards your next class with you mind focused on what exactly your assistant duties with Professor Romanoff may entail.

———

"When are you back again?"

"Friday night. About nine-ish?"

You passed the raven-haired girl a quick glance over your shoulder as you continued to fold the items of clothing in your hand. A loud sigh filled the space as you heard Kate roll over in her bed, rustling the top of her sheets. "That's four whole days of you leaving me completely alone."

As you placed the last of your clothes into the open suitcase, you swiveled around to look at Kate. Your brow furrowed as you noticed your best friend sprawled dramatically across the covers. "Kate, you do realised we have other friends?" you replied with a soft sigh.

But it seemed the girl took no notice, throwing her hand up to cover her eyes as another noise of discomfort slipped from her lips. "I'm gonna look like such a loser at breakfast." The truth was that the pair of you did have more friends at university, with whom Kate could definitely speak to while you were away, despite how the majority of the time it was always just the two of you. This could be down to the fact you were the only ones still sharing a dorm on campus, most of your friends having moved out to apartments around the city. You and Kate had looked into that option but your loan wasn't enough to cover the rent, so you'd both settled to remain in the on-campus accommodation, still sharing your meals in the wide dining hall.

You sighed again. "I'm sorry my grandma dying is such an inconvenience to you." At that, Kate shot up in bed, immediately looking less irritated and instead concerned. The way you smiled playfully back at her, however, made her brows drop ever so slightly, the fear of her actions hurting you slipping away. You'd already told her you weren't all that bothered by the passing, more so annoyed by the bother of it all, but it seemed despite how dramatic she could be, Kate was still worried about your feelings. "Relax Bishop," you said, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. "You know I'm kidding. I hate the fact I'm going just as much as you do." With all the hustle of trying to get through your work that day, you hadn't had much time to think about the reality of going home. Now packing your things, the dread of it all was beginning to settle on your shoulders. Still, you forced a smile on your lips as you walked across to Kate's bed, sitting yourself down next to her. "I'm sorry I'm leaving but I'll make it up to you, yeah?"

Just then, a spark seemed to light up in Kate's eyes. She turned to you, a wide smirk plastered on her lips. "Will you come to a party with me?" The proposal was one Kate often brought up, and one that was just as often shut down. Whenever Kate was getting ready to go out for a night, you were always cooped up in your textbooks, ignoring her complaints of how you studied too much and focusing instead on memorising every piece of material on the paper. For three years, your best friend has had to drag you to every party you'd ever been to, sometimes even snatching the book from your hands and then pleading you with puppy dog eyes. Those same eyes looked at you now, silently begging.

"Fine," you said finally, causing Kate to throw her hands up in the air. You raised your hand before her excitement could get out of hand. "But only one and not until after midterms."

The girl looked slightly disheartened but her smile still remained wide. "Fine," she replied, looking to already be planning the event she'd drag to you in a few weeks time. As Kate settled herself back in her bed, you stood to cross the room, returning to your almost-packed suitcase. You placed the last item in one side - a long black coat Kate had let you borrow to wear to the funeral - then zipped up the first half. All the other half was missing was your toiletries bag, of which would have to wait until the morning to be packed. As you were closing things up, you threw a comment to Kate over your shoulder. "I spoke to my Russian professor today about that extension for the assignment, remember?"

You heard Kate's head turn towards you, becoming distracted from her party planning. "Oh yeah, what'd she say?"

As the final zip on your suitcase closed, you turned back around to your best friend. "She doesn't really do extensions so she said I can help out after class instead to make up my grade."

Kate's brow furrowed. "What, like an assistant?"

"Yeah, exactly. Hers apparently dropped out so I'm filling in for a few weeks." You bent down to push your suitcase under your bed, ready to go tomorrow morning, then stood again, shrugging your shoulders. "She said she'll give me the equivalent of full marks for the assignment."

"Wait, what?" Kate shot up in bed, her jaw hanging slack. "You just help her plan a couple lessons and get a free ride to a perfect score?"

You breathed out a laugh, not only at Kate's theatric tone but also at the improbable truth of the scenario. It hadn't really hit you until now how easy you had it, an exceptional gateway to an easy 'A'. "Yeah," you giggled out, taking a seat on your bed. "I mean, she said I'm a good student so she expected me to do well anyway." You tried to ignore the strange tingle in your head as you recounted your professor's words, instead focusing on Kate who flung herself up in her bed.

"Dude," she said, looking at you incredulously. Her eyes shifted, looking down to the floor. "Maybe I should have taken Russian this year."

Another laugh spilled from your lips as you stood, closing the gap between you and your best friend. "I think you should focus on the classes you're already taking." Your hand reached out for Kate's pulling her up from her bed before she could get a chance to reply. "Now, let's go get dinner. I'm starving."

———

The setting sun streamed in through the wide windows of Natasha's office. The entire room was painted in a soft orange glow, guiding the redhead as she finally began to pack up for the night. Today had been a long day for her, her daily schedule packed and evening full of essay marking that needed to be completed by tomorrow. Finally, Natasha had managed to get finished up, closing her laptop and packing away her notes for the night. She tucked them away into her bag to bring to work the next day before shutting off the lamp inside the room and retiring from her office for the night.

Her feet padded across the wooden floors as she made her way out of the home office. The sun's glow followed her, let in by the expansive windows her and Wanda's house contained. When she reached the living room, Natasha spied her wife curled up on the corner of their sofa, a blanket draped over her legs and an open book sat in her hands. Her footsteps were silent as she made her way over to the other redhead. Though she imagined her wife had still felt her approach, as she didn't flinch when Nat's hands came down for a hug from behind. Natasha's arms wrapped around her wife, a small hum escaping her lips as she pressed a gentle kiss to the pulse point of her neck. "Baby," Natasha whispered, her voice low. Wanda simply hummed in response, her eyes still focused on her novel, her attention only slightly skewed when Natasha leaned in closer, pressing more kisses down the skin of her neck.

"I need to speak to you about something." Natasha's voice remained low, her words fanning out on to her wife's collar bones. She'd been waiting for this moment now for a while, anticipating just the right time to bring up her scenario to her wife. The thoughts had been circling her head for a small while now, perhaps longer than she liked to admit, but she found she couldn't wait any longer to share.

"What is it, moya lyubov?" Wanda's eyes finally raised from her book, head turning over her shoulder to look up at her wife. Though, this position didn't last long, as Natasha lifted her legs and swung herself over the back of the couch, landing in a position beside her wife. This was a habit Wanda hated, forever telling Natasha to 'use her legs like an adult', but this time she didn't have time to pester the redhead as she'd already began to speak. "Do you remember that student we spoke about? The one that got the perfect score."

The slight look of annoyance from Nat's behavior was quickly replaced by an inquisitive expression as Wanda furrowed her brow. The redhead finally closed her book on her lap, sliding a bookmark into place. "Yeah, I do. What was her name again?"

"Y/N Y/L/N."

Wanda hummed, a small smiling appearing on her lips. "That's it. Cute name. What about her?"

Natasha inhaled, her mind passing over the already scripted conversation she'd created. "I spoke with her again today. Came in asking for an extension for an assignment." The redhead smiled, remembering the interaction from that morning. She took another deep breath before she uttered the next words from her mouth. "I think I've maybe taking a liking to her."

"Oh?" Wanda's eyebrows raised, her expression changing to one of surprise. It wasn't new that the couple were searching for someone else in their relationship, the openness of the topic having been in circulation almost since the two had first got together. But the surprise came from the fact Nat had perhaps found someone she believed could slot into their duo, her and Wanda's standards usually far too rigid to find anyone to spend more than a night with. If Natasha was bringing up a girl like this, she must have seriously considered the possibility of a longer association, and that thoroughly intrigued Wanda.

"Now," Natasha continued. "Of course I don't want to do anything we don't both agree on, but..." She paused for just a moment, smiling a little up at her wife. "I would be lying if I said I hadn't already been playing around with her. Just a little bit." Natasha held up her fingers, signaling the small amount of teasing she'd subjected her prized student to. "You know, I didn't want to come asking your permission for a girl who turned out to be a bore."

The more Natasha continued to talk, the more Wanda became interested and invested by the conversation at hand. She slowly slipped her book to the couch beside her, leaning in closer towards her wife. "And is she?"

A wide smirk appeared on Natasha's lips as she relished in her wife's question. "Not in the slightest." Her expression only deepened as she recalled the little moments of you she'd been observing in class. "She's so fucking cute," she said, stating the obvious right off the bat. "She's always early for class and always paying so much attention. She shows up in the sweetest little outfits, like she doesn't even know how good she looks." The redhead smiled as she remembered the sight of you in your small summer dresses or slightly oversized sweaters. "Oh," she said, reminded of her favourite bit of all. "And she has this adorable little English accent."

With the last of her wife's words, a similar looking smirk began to appear on Wanda's own face. "Well now I'm intrigued.”

Natasha smiled back at her words as she shrugged a shoulder. "As I said, I played around a little bit and Wands..." The redhead had to suppress a sigh as she reached for her wife's hand. "I just know how much fun she'd be," she continued, her voice almost a whine. "I mean, she gets flustered so easily. One little pet name and she's already hiding away her flushed face."

Wanda's smirk deepened as Natasha continued to talk, stirred further by the slight desperation she could hear in the redhead's voice. She had to wonder just how long she'd been wondering about this one student and just how much fun she was getting to have without her... "Go ahead, malysh," Wanda replied finally, squeezing her wife's hand gently. "I trust your instincts. You'll just have to introduce me sometime soon."

Natasha's brows shot up. "You're sure?"

"Yeah," Wanda chuckled back slightly, amused by the excitement underlying Nat's voice. When she spoke again, her lips had formed a devilish smirk. "It'll be fun. It's been a while since we had somebody to play with."

———

The funeral was awful. Of course, one never expects such an event to be the epitome of joy, but this particular funeral was like your own personally curated hell. Your entire family was gathered in one place, meaning not only were your parents’ critiques breathed down your neck the entire time, but they were also joined by those more distant. Grandparents and judgmental aunts seemed to team up on you, all obsessing over your university career and what your future plans were. Many pestered the question of your singularity, claiming that ‘a pretty young thing like you should have been swept up by a man a long time ago’. Unfortunately, the almost-compliment that could be found in their talk, was quickly diminished by the discussion of how it must be something wrong with your personality rather than your face, comments all whispered from where they thought you couldn’t hear.

There was no escape from the constant berating, your schedule full of family meals and teas, and far too lengthy conversations around the fireplace, of which you could not be excused due to your mother’s abhorrence of anyone ever thinking of her children as rude. To make matters worse, you were exhausted from jet lag and the flight, something certainly not helped by the endless hours of socializing and pressing on a smile for your family.

Still, you pushed through like the perfect daughter you always tried to be. You sat politely at the funeral, wearing an old black dress and Kate’s coat, the perfume of your best friend aiding a little to your torturous discomfort. Though your family cried, your eyes remained dry, silently staring at your feet and trying not to draw any attention to yourself. At the funeral tea, you shook hands and smiled softly at family members, answering any questions they asked with the grace your mother had forced upon your shoulders at a young age. Of course, she found her usual pride in parading you and your brother around like a pair of trophies she’d spent hours shining. The entirety of every event was exhausting.

Even at the will reading, there was no break to be given. Your late grandmother had graciously scattered her belongings to her loved ones, though seemingly biased to those who she deemed more palatable. Your brother received a chunk of her money alongside her old ring, something the family gushed over due to the prospect of his long-term girlfriend who he could now finally pop the big question to. Your rolled your eyes as they pandered over him, all blatantly dismissive of the old bible you’d been left, with your grandmother’s handwriting inside with a note of how she wished for it to be read out of at your wedding when you finally found yourself a suitable husband. You had simply rolled your eyes and shoved it to the bottom of your bag.

All that being said, it was a huge relief to you when you finally made your way back to the airport. Though you’d had to spend the journey constantly criticized by your mother about your uni work, as soon as you stepped on to the plane, relief was flooding over your shoulders. As the sky came to fill the widow, clouds passing by, you were more than grateful to be heading back to the true place you thought of as home.

Kate came to pick you up from the airport, hugging you immediately and beginning to rant about the idiots she’d encountered in the car park as she pulled your case towards the exit. The pair of you went straight to a mcdonald’s drive thru, your hunger unquenched from the bad aeroplane food you’d been offered. Fries and hamburgers were shared in the front seat of the car as you relayed back your awful week to Kate, telling her everything that you hadn’t even had the chance to text her due to your family’s never-ending nagging.

That weekend was very stressful. Due to the packed schedule you had followed back in England, you’d had next to no time to complete any of your work from that week. So, from morning until night, you cooped yourself up at your desk and ground it all out. At times, Kate had to drag you down to the hall for some food or persistently remind you to even go to bathroom. In the end however, you managed to get it all finished. By eleven o’clock Sunday night, you were finally all caught up from your missed classes and had completed all your deadlines. The light in the room were low, only your small desk lamp lighting up the space. Kate slept in her bed, hair fanning out across the pillows. You were quiet as you cleaned your space, eyeing the untouched plate of food Kate had brought up for you after you’d refused to go down for dinner. It was long cold now and you felt a little guilty throwing it out, but you were far too tired now to think about eating. Instead, you simply turned off the light and slid yourself into your bed, finally letting your mind rest and prepare itself to return to your regularly scheduled classes the next morning.

———

"Alright everyone, that's all for today's lesson. Are there any questions?"

Like always, the bustle began began your professor could even finish his sentence. Everyone was already packing away their things, drowning out the teacher's voice with their own hustle to leave. It happened almost every class, and almost every time you felt bad, one of the only people who remained still until they had officially dismissed you. But today, you found yourself following the crowd more than you usually would have. See, your professor had droned on a bit too long that afternoon, moving into the passing period you had between classes. Most times that wouldn't have been a big deal seeing as it was your last class of the day, but today was the day you were supposed to meet Professor Romanoff and thanks to your English professor's extensive elaborations, you were left with only a few minutes until you'd be late. So today you put your cares aside and as the class packed up, so did you, stuffing everything into your backpack and throwing it over your shoulder before joining the crowd exiting the lecture hall.

Your English building was on the exact opposite side of campus as your destination, so your feet held a quick pace as you flitted between the crowds of students on your way. Pathways were held up by casually conversing people, all relaxed now their days were over. They all annoyed you severely as they slowed down your journey, obviously uncaring that you still had places to be. By the time you had reached the building in which your Russian class was held, the clock was already a few minutes passed the scheduled time. You almost burst in through the doors of the hall, ever so slightly out of breath from your fast paced journey across campus. As soon as you entered the room, you spied the redheaded professor sat at her desk, head buried into her laptop. She looked up to you as you walked across the floor, nervously adjusting the backpack straps on your shoulders. "Hi," you breathed out, trying your best to seem casual despite your racing lungs. "I'm sorry I'm a little late. My last lecture ran over a little."

A pair of perfectly white teeth smiled back in your direction, Professor Romanoff looking you over. "Y/N," she said, her gentle voice falling upon your ears. Something about it in that moment made you realize you had almost missed it over your break, but the rational part of your brain soon took over and told you you were being ridiculous. "Don't worry about being late, you're barely two minutes over." She smiled again as you closed the final distance between you, moving to stand by the edge of her desk. She stood as you did, displaying today a pair of grey slacks and a soft black jumper, all adorned with delicate gold jewelry. Her smiling face looked down at you, that forgotten odd feeling of warmth spreading through your gut. "It's good to see you again. How are you? How was your trip?"

You ignored the sensation in your stomach as you smiled back at her. "I'm good. The trip was fine. A little boring but fine." There were many worse words to describe your trip than ‘boring' but you decide to settle for that, not wanting to bother your professor with the complicated details of your family and more so, simply wanting to leave the entire week in the past and not think of it again.

“That’s good,” Professor Romanoff replied with that same easy smile. “I’m glad to hear you’re alright.” Her hands lifted from the pockets they hid in, reaching out to open a drawer of her desk. You wondered for a moment what she might be looking for before she pulled out a small stack of papers, extending them out towards you. “These are some extra notes from last week’s lectures.”

You smiled, slightly surprised. “Oh, thank you.” Most of your university work could be found online for both absence and revision purposes, but it never was quite the same as attending the classes themselves. Usually you hated using just the online notes to catch up, never grasping the material as well as you’d like, but this weekend you’d had to make do. That was, of course, until Professor Romanoff handed you the extra notes. “That’s very kind of you.”

“Well,” your professor replied. “I wouldn’t want my best student falling behind, would I?”

Her words worked to form that warm sensation across your cheeks, the given title heating up your insides with flustering pride. You were grateful the woman had started to busy herself at her desk with something else as you tried to brush off her compliments as smoothly as possible, attempting to hide the flush of your skin.

“You can grab a chair from the side. Bring it over.”

You nodded, almost snapping back to reality once more with Professor Romanoff’s words. You placed your backpack down beside her desk, quickly slotting the extra notes into the large pocket before moving to grab a spare chair from the edge of the room. When you returned, your professor had seemingly found what she was searching for, a large stack of papers now sat in the centre of the desk.

“Sit,” Romanoff beckons with a smile, gesturing her hand towards the front of her desk. You pull up your chair, positioning yourself across from her own seated position. “These are tests I need marked. They’re all multiple choice and there’s a marking scheme.” The redhead lifted a single piece of paper, handing it over your way. “So you’ll just have to see if the letters match up on both papers. That sound okay?”

You nodded once more, her instructions seeming simple enough. “Yeah, sounds fine.”

“Great.” With a smile, Professor Romanoff slid the pile of unmarked papers across the desk towards you. She explained that if you needed any help, just to ask, and that she’d just be busying herself on her laptop. You nodded again, reaching into your backpack quickly for a pen before you began to work away.

It was an easy job really, simply matching the circled letters on the quiz papers to that of the marking scheme. In truth, it was almost relaxing to have something to do that didn’t require much brain power. Professor Romanoff sat across from you, typing away on her laptop. Occasionally, you’d look up to take a glance at her, catching moments of concentration or boredom on her face, but your eyes would never linger long, too scared of getting caught looking her way. She’d turned on the radio to fill a bit of the silence, music humming softly from a black stereo on the edge of the desk. All in all, the endeavour was a blessing in disguise - much simpler and easier than the effort the equivalent assignment would have took.

“You getting on alright, milaya?”

The voice brought you from the almost trance you’d put yourself in as you marked the set of papers. Your head rose from them, more than half the stack already complete as you smiled back at your professor. “Yeah, all good.”

She nodded, smiling at you with her perpetually perfect red lips. Under her gaze, you felt your eyes drop back to the papers, for some reason feeling entirely too see every time she looked your way. She went to turn back towards her laptop, your hand reaching out to continue marking, but a lingering question had been vibrating in your head. You had been too afraid to ask before, to be the one to break the soft silence of the room, but now was your opportunity. “Are these law papers?”

Professor Romanoff looked back at you, her expression soft. “Yes,” she said, simply. “I also teach a beginners law class alongside my usual Russian.”

You felt your eyebrows raise, unexpecting of her answer but also rather impressed. Now it made sense why the papers you were marking were not at all taking about Russian vocabulary but instead legal terminology.

“I studied a law major at college,” the red haired woman continued. “It was going to be my career until I decided to teach instead.”

“Huh,” you hummed, interested by the new information you were discovering about your teacher. “Why’d you decide to switch?”

Romanoff shrugged a shoulder. “Honestly, I love teaching.” A small smirk then appeared on her lips as she leaned in closer across the table. “Besides, my wife is a lawyer and just between me and you, I’m not sure I’d like her as my boss. She can be a little scary sometimes.”

There was a playfulness to her tone that you easily pick up on, the entire interaction meant as a jest, but somehow it left you with a strange feeling in your chest. You listened to your professor’s words, but your mind seemed to stick on one. Wife. In that moment, you suddenly realised you hadn’t pictured her being married - not that you had pictured her at all, your mind chided in defence. Now you quickly realised that she was indeed with another person, and not just that, but with a woman. Suddenly you had to push your mother’s berating thoughts from your head.

“So what about you?”

“Sorry?” you replied, mind crashing back to the present moment. Professor Romanoff looked back at you with an almost playful looking smirk. It only added to that strange feeling inside your chest.

“What’s your major?” the redhead elaborated.

“Oh.” You sat up straighter, trying to adjust your jumper in an effort to conceal the fact you’d gotten lost in your thoughts once more. “I’m an English major.” Romanoff raised a brow, the smirk on her face widening to almost a smile. You sighed softly, throwing your head to the side. “You can make the joke if you want, everyone does.”

An English girl studying English. You’d heard almost every variation of the joke, mostly from drunk boys at frat parties that thought they were the pinnacle of humour. Shouldn’t you already be an expert at that? Wait, they don’t teach you English in England?

You were expecting some similar turn of phrase to escape your professors lips, following in the footsteps of everyone you’d had this conversation with before. But to your surprise, she simply shook her head, frowning ever so slightly. “I think I’ll refrain,” she said, frown turning into the same wide smirk. “I hate being unoriginal.”

A laugh bubbled up in your throat, pushing out through a smile and into the air. Your professor followed, chuckling with you. After a moment, she stilled, looking back at you curiously. “So, tell me,” she said, leaning in closer to the desk. “What does bring you all the way to America to study?”

Because I can’t stand being at home with my parents. “Experience, I guess,” you said with a shrug, hiding away the truth behind a smile. “And I got a full scholarship when I applied so…” Your words died down, not quite sure how to finish your explanation.

Thankfully, your professor seemed to pick up the conversation easily. “A very smart girl, hm?” Her lips met as she hummed and it seemed you could feel the vibrations running down your spine. Your eyes fell back to your lap, trying to hide the awkward smile her praise had brought. You were unsure of what exactly you should do, contemplating if her question was rhetoric or not, and praying the former due to your inability to think of a response. Blessedly, Professor Romanoff cut through your mind’s distress with another question. “You’re in fourth year, right?”

Your eyes picked back up, meeting hers. “Yeah.”

She smiled, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared back at you intently. “And what exactly lead a fourth year English student to my beginner’s Russian class?”

You were getting a little bit of deja vu of the conversation you’d had with Kate multiple times. This time, you settled on the short answer. “I thought it sounded interesting,” you said simply, smiling as you shrugged your shoulders.

Professor Romanoff seemed amused by your answer. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

You felt yourself smiling back in response. So am I, your brain mused, but your consciousness refused to let anything move past your lips. Instead, Romanoff was picking up the conversation once again. “What’s your plans for after?”

Your eyebrows raised, suddenly surprised by her question. “Sorry?”

The redhead chuckled. “Once you graduate, sweetheart,” she said, voice sounding slightly amused. “What do you plan to do with the rest of your life?”

“Oh right,” you fumbled. You felt a little stupid for thinking she ever meant anything other than that. “My, uh…my mum wants me to go to law school actually…”

A red brow raised in your direction. “Oh yeah?”

You nodded, reminiscent of your previous chatter with your professor. A funny little coincidence that you two may be following a similar path. Although in that moment, you couldn’t help but be a little jealous. She had eventually fallen away from law, moving to a career she was truly passionate for. You were unsure if you’d ever get that opportunity. It had taken months just to convince your mother to let you major in English, claiming it was good for getting into law school after college. And after three years, you still hadn’t been able to convince her away from that same dream of hers, now unsure if you ever would.

“And what to do you want to do?”

“What?” Your professor’s words took you by surprise. When you looked up, it felt as if her eyes had seen straight through you, like she’d been able to hear your every thought.

“Your mother wants you to go to law school,” Professor Romanoff reiterated. “What do you want to do after you graduate?”

Your voice was unsteady in your response. “Go to law school?”

Professor Romanoff raised a brow as she angled her head. “Are you asking me?” All you could muster was a shrug, feeling suddenly very small in the large hall. You didn’t much like talking about what you wanted to do in your life, haven forgone the gesture years ago due to your mother’s constant coercion. But then your professor leaned in slightly, a small smile crossing her lips. “You can tell me the truth, sweetheart,” she said. “I’m very good at keeping secrets.”

The endearment fell on your already blushed cheeks. Most times you wouldn’t have said anything at all, hidden behind the lies your mother had constructed about your person, but something about the redhead’s smile almost drew the words directly from your mouth. “I guess if I could do anything, I’d be a writer,” you said, playing at the sleeves of your sweater.

“A writer?” Romanoff repeated, raising a pair of curious brows.

You felt yourself nodding as a small smile crept on to your lips. “Yeah. I love books and writing, and I guess it’s what I’ve wanted to do ever since I was a little girl.”

“Why don’t you do it then?”

Her words came as a shock, your system unsure of how exactly to respond. You shrank back under the redhead’s gaze, reminded of the words you’d been told so many times they were engraved into your mind. “It’ll be good for me to go to law school. My mum says I’ll get a better job.”

“Maybe…” Professor Romanoff hummed. Then her expression changed to something you couldn’t quite understand as she leaned in closer, her emerald eyes trained on your face. “But do you know what my birth mother used to say about me? She used to tell me I was useless little piece of shit that wouldn’t get anywhere in life.” Your eyebrows raised slightly in shock as you heard her words, especially on the fact she’d cursed so easily and how oddly good it sounded coming from her lips. Then her expression shifted again, an almost smugness taking over that drew your attention away from your own thoughts. “Thirty years later I’m a professor at one of the most prestigious universities in America. I’m married to a very successful lawyer, and living quite frankly an amazing life with a pair of adoptive parents who love me very much.”

Professor Romanoff finished with a small smirk, seemingly unaware of how her words settled on your shoulders. The entire statement was so weighted, so much shared about her as a person in so few words. Something in you felt slightly honoured that she could be that vulnerable around you, or perhaps her story wasn’t one she kept bundled up in her chest like you did, like a weighted lock on your heart. Still, you felt a sense of solace in learning more about your professor, a sense of trust being built in up inside. Her smiling eyes met yours as she leaned in even further on the desk. “Don’t let people who don’t know the real you keep you from what you want. We only get one life, Y/N. Don’t waste it trying to be someone you’re not.”

Her words settled in your stomach with an odd sensation. Her reassurance felt like another brick added to that wall of trust, perhaps her intention to try and learn more of your story. But maybe that trust wasn’t quite strong enough yet.

You shied away, unwilling to share more of your story despite how open Romanoff had seemed, years of criticisms sitting heavy on your shoulders. “Maybe,” you said lowly, picking up your pen once again. But you knew you’d never truly be able to follow through with what she was proposing you should, knew your future fate was already sealed by the woman who’d brought you into this world. She’d have a perfect daughter with her perfect career and wouldn’t settle for less, no matter how it made you feel. For now, all Professor Romanoff’s words could provide was a little fuel to that already dying fire of a dream inside your heart.

The pair of you quickly fell back into the steady silence of your work after your conversation, you pen dotting over papers as your professor turned back to her laptop. The radio played quietly in the background as you tried to push whatever words lingered in your head, both from your mother and the redhead in front of you, too many feeling provoked from the subject to allow you to focus properly. Dispelling them from your mind, you trained your eyes on the marking schemes in front of you, though having some of the answers memorised by now, and continued to work away at the stack of tests on the desk.

Time passed quickly once more, your speed increasing as the papers became more familiar in your hands, easily noticing the same mistakes made over and over. Occasionally you heard Romanoff begin to hum along to a song on the radio, focusing momentarily on her soft voice before refocusing on your work. In your mind, you became determined to finish them as quickly as you could, absentmindedly hoping to impress the woman they were for.

You were almost finished your task, down to the very last paper when a shrill sound cut through the soft atmosphere of the room. Both you and your professor’s heads shot up from your work, eyes turning to your backpack from where the loud ringtone emanated. Shit, you thought, obviously accidentally turning on the ringer that you always kept silenced.

“I’m sorry,” you said, glancing over at your professor in slight fear of her reprimand. But in return, you were only met with a soft smile.

“Don’t worry, milaya,” Romanoff replied gently. “This isn’t class time. You can answer your phone.”

Relieved by her answer, you let out a soft sigh. Reaching over, you began to dig through your bag to find your mobile, the nonsensical tune still ringing out. With no suprise, when you found it, Kate’s name and profile picture covered your screen. Quietly, you apologised again before accepting the call, slightly turning away in your chair as you held your phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N!” Kate’s voice replied back from the other end of the device. She sounded slightly off but you couldn’t quite tell why.

“Are you okay? What’s up?”

A small sigh sounded in your ear. “Okay, please don’t get mad at me again but-“

You were replying with a sigh of your own before Kate could even finish her sentence. “You forgot your key again, didn’t you?”

“I’m so sorry,” the girl on the end of the other phone pleaded.

You sighed again, shaking your head. “Kate, how many times-“

“I know! I know,” she cut off. “I’m the worst person ever. But I slept in this morning and just forgot to put it in my bag. I’m sorry.”

Your sigh turned less frustrated. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” At your core you weren’t a confrontational person. You could never stay mad at anyone for long, especially Kate.

“Well, I came back to the room and you’re not here,” your best friend continued through the phone. “I thought you were finished english at three?”

“I am,” you replied. “But I’m helping out Professor Romanoff, remember? I’m in her class right now.”

You could hear Kate’s realisation through the call. “Shit. I am so sorry.” There was a pause. You could picture Kate dancing on the heels of her feet, the same way she did every time she needed to ask you a favour. “Uhm, could I possibly swing by and pick up your key then? Please Y/N, I really need to finish my computing assignment. It’s due at five.”

If there was anyone who would leave their work until one hour before the deadline, it was Kate. Another soft sigh escaped your lips. “Fine.”

Kate’s smile could practically be heard through the phone. “Thank you! What room are you in?”

“Language building, room ML4.”

“Okay,” Kate replied. “I’ll be right there. You’re the best, I love you.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little as you responded. “Love you too.”

With that, Kate hung up the call. You pulled your phone away from your ear, switching it off and throwing it in your pocket as you turned back in your chair. “I’m so sorry,” you began, facing back to your professor. “It’s my roommate, Kate. She’s locked herself out again.”

Romanoff raised a curious glance. “Again?”

“Bad habit.” You smiled back sheepishly, shrugging your shoulder. “She’s just going to stop by and pick up my key, if that’s alright?”

The redhead smiled back at you. “Of course. That’s perfectly fine.” A small sigh of relief escaped your lips, glad that the encounter wouldn’t be a problem. “But I think we’re actually almost done here,” Romanoff continued. “How are you getting on with those papers.”

“Oh, yeah,” you replied, pulling yourself back towards the desk and the stack of papers sat atop of it. “I’m actually just on the last one.”

“Well if you just finish that up, you can run along with your friend when she gets here.”

“You’re sure?” you replied, looking up. You didn’t want Kate’s endeavour to disrupt any of the help your professor needed. But the redhead simply nodded in response.

“I’m sure, Y/N.”

“Okay then,” you responded, nodding your head softly. A small smile was passed between the two of you before you were grabbing your pen once more, reaching out to finish marking the final test in the stack. Your hand moved quickly as you corrected any of the mistakes, flicking through the sheets of paper at an impressive rate. It was just as you were marking the last question that the noise of the hall doors opening drew your attention.

Clamouring in, Kate appeared inside the hall, her backpack momentarily getting caught on the handle before she was able to free herself. She stood sheepishly inside the room, looking across the way and spying you and your professor sat at the desk. “Uhm, hello,” the girl announced. You could tell she was trying to play it cool but she had that same almost awkward look she got whenever a girl she liked try to talk to her. “I’m, uh, Kate Bishop. Y/N’s roommate.” Her finger pointed to you, as if trying to prove she hadn’t barged in for no apparent reason.

Professor Romanoff had stood from her desk as Kate had entered, her hands finding a place resting inside her pockets. Now, she smiled across at her. “Yeah, she mentioned.”

Kate gave that awkward little laugh of hers and you had to refrain from not giggling at her yourself. “Sorry to just barge in on you guys. Are you still…” Her hands gestured towards you and the desk, trying to gage where you were with the work.

But Romanoff simply shook her head in response with a short smile. “No worries, Miss Bishop. We were just finishing up.”

Kate’s eyebrows raised. “Great,” she replied, sticking one of her thumbs up.

You had to stifle your laughs at her awkwardness. Was this how she interacted with all of her professors, or just the ones she didn’t know? As you hid your smile, you tidied up the stack of papers on the desk, piling them up neatly before rising to your feet. “Okay, Miss Romanoff,” you said, slightly pushing them in her direction. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do for you?”

The woman turned back to you with her gentle smile, her voice soft. “That’ll be all for today, Y/N.”

“Okay,” you replied, adjusting your jumper as you reached down for your backpack, throwing it over one shoulder. “Well, thank you again for this.”

Romanoff smiled. “No, thank you. I’d be drowning in work without your helpful hands.” A smirk seemed to form on her lips as she sent an emerald wink your way.

The action left you suddenly stuttering for the right words, embarrassingly affected by such a simple action. “Right,” you finally managed, voice jumbled. “I’ll uh- see you on Wednesday?”

Thankfully Professor Romanoff didn’t seem too bothered by your flustering state, if anything you might have said she even looked amused. “I’ll see you in class, Y/N,” she said, smiling down at you.

You returned the gesture as you turned away, walking to close the distance between where you and Kate stood. As you met the raven-haired girl’s side, a voice called out to the both of you. “Have a nice night, ladies.”

You turned briefly to Romanoff, smiling as you and Kate hummed a thanks in unison. As you passed through the doors to the hall and exited into the corridor, you felt your shoulders loosen ever so slightly, that perfect emerald stare still lingering in your mind. You couldn’t quite understand why you left that class always feeling so worked up.

This time, however, there was little space for you to think about it, as merely a few steps down the hallway, Kate was grabbing hold of your upper arm. “Holy shit, that’s your Russian professor?”

You turned quickly to your best friend, both startled and shocked by her sudden comment. “What? Yeah?”

Kate breathed out a laugh. “Y/N, you never told me she was hot as shit.”

“What?” you stuttered, taken about by Kate’s choice of words. “She’s not- I mean -I-I never noticed.”

The girls hand shook your arm slightly as the pair of you continued to walk. “Never noticed? Y/N, you must be blind because that was one of the most attractive women I’ve ever seen.”

The words come as a bit of shock, not expecting Kate to think so highly of the woman you’d been spending the last weeks of lessons with. The raven-haired girl began to mumble on about how she should have taken Russian and how it was unfair how she always got the old, ugly professors. But in all honeslty you weren’t paying her much mind, instead focusing on the words that had spilled from Kate’s mouth previously. Sure, Professor Romanoff was a nice-looking woman, you’d noticed that the first time she’d walked into the room, but that didn’t mean you should be attracted to her. That was wrong, she was your teacher, she was married for god’s sake. You shouldn’t be thinking about her in that way. You weren’t thinking about her in that way. Sure, she made you blush every time she spoke to you, and her stare made a strange warmth pool in your stomach, but that didn’t mean you found her attractive. Right?

———

Term continued on with its usual snowballing effect. The next couple of weeks began to fill up with more and more work as you progressed further into the year. You and Kate spent many of your time outside of lessons bundled up in the library, spending hours revising for your upcoming midterms. The pair of you were also beginning to write your final dissertations, the main project that would lead to your graduation at the end of the year. You'd had your topic picked for months and had already started your research over the Summer, which left you room to help Kate find something she could write about, having struggled finding a topic she didn't find extremely boring.

Your usual meal time chatter turned away from mindless gossip and instead to lesson content, both of you complaining about how many assignments you had due. The carefree start of term was officially gone and the usual endless list of deadlines had crept back up on you just like it always did. Luckily for you, you'd managed to maintain the rigidness towards studying you'd possessed since doing your exams in secondary school. You could maintain focus for hours, staring at your laptop or notes until everything was photocopied into your mind. Sure, it sometimes meant you'd miss a meal or a few hours of sleep, but it was all worth it for the perfect grade you were determined to achieve in the end.

Your sessions with Professor Romanoff continued on over the next couple of weeks too, still just an hour after your final class on a Monday. You'd offered her more help if she'd needed it but the redhead had politely refused, claiming she didn't want you wasting your time when you had exams to study for. In fact, she told you that she'd only require your help for a few more weeks, just up until the midterm, then you were free to go with that easy 'A' tucked into your pocket. Surprisingly, when you heard the news, you found yourself feeling slightly saddened. Over the time you'd spent with Professor Romanoff, you'd rather enjoyed yourself. It wasn't that the work was particularly exhilarating or you two ever did much other than look at papers, but the small moments you'd been able to find in between had been rather pleasant. Whether it was the soft lull of the radio music that you both would hum along to, or the small conversations she'd have with you about your home or your studies, the time you spent with the redhead somehow always left you with a warmth in the pit of your stomach.

One particular rainy Monday afternoon, the pair of you were comfortably sat at her desk in your usual positions, your chair across the way from hers. As she often did, Romanoff typed away on her laptop, while you sat stapling together test papers for her advanced Russian class, having previously just photocopied the stack. The paper was still warm against your skin as you organised them into the correct order, the feeling almost soothing you into a trance-like state. You hadn't even noticed it at all until it was suddenly shattered by a soft sound echoing through the room.

Your head picked up, readjusting itself to the real world before turning to the right where the sound emanated from. The sight that befell upon you caused your brows to raise ever so slightly in surprise. As the door to the lecture hall swung closed, a tall, unfamiliar, but smartly-dressed woman entered through them. Her heels clicked confidently across the floor, eyes trained on your professor who sat at the desk. You watched as the redhead stood when the woman reached her, smiling softly. "Detka, hi." Romanoff placed a small kiss on the woman's cheek as they hugged briefly.

"I tried to call but it went straight to voicemail," the other woman replied. She stood a few inches taller than Professor Romanoff, her hair a lighter shade of red straightened almost perfectly down her back. She wore a deep copper suit with a crisp white shirt, a designer handbag thrown over one shoulder. In all honesty, you couldn't tell if she'd came straight from work or a catwalk. When her body turned to stand side by side with your professor, you noticed her eyes shimmered down at you with a soft olive green. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise you would still have company."

At that, you noticed Professor Romanoff turn towards you, as if she had just remembered you were there. She smiled as she gestured to the taller woman. "Y/N, this is my wife, Wanda."

Right, wife. The idea she'd slipped a few weeks ago had almost left your mind entirely. Now that said woman was standing directly in front of you, looking down with an expression you couldn't quite read. "So you're the star pupil my wife has been telling me about, hm?"

Her voice was playful when she spoke, but at the same time low and almost sultry. Everything about it, including her words, left you stuttering over what to say. Had Professor Romanoff really been speaking about you to her wife?

"This is she," the redhead replied, covering for your inability to form a full sentence. She looked back at you with that same easy-going smile that seemed to make you shift in your seat.

Wanda passed you a similar expression as she inclined her head towards you, smirking just slightly. "Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Thankfully, in that moment, your ability to speak seemed to return. "It's nice to meet you too, miss."

A small chuckle escaped the older woman's lips as you spoke. She glanced at Natasha, the pair sharing a look you couldn't interpret, before her sparkling eyes were back on you. "Oh please, honey. You can just call me Wanda." Just then you realised it wasn't only your professor's use of nicknames that seemed to send a shiver down your spine, Wanda's words setting your nerves on edge as you felt the heat flush to your cheeks. You looked down to your lap in an attempt to hide it, not wanting either woman to see your embarrassed state. From the corner of your eye, however, you saw Wanda wasn't going to let you hide that easily. She sat herself on the edge of the desk, leaning in closer to you and the stack of papers close by. "Working hard, are we?"

You looked back up to meet her eye, the action seemingly stripping away your speech once more. Thankfully, your professor stood up to answer for you. "Just getting some papers organised for my lesson tomorrow," she said, sitting herself down at her chair once more. Her eyes met her wife's. "Sorry, I didn't realise we'd run so late." Just then, you assumed why Wanda had shown up so unnanounced. Professor Romanoff had mentioned in passing that her wife would sometimes meet her after work, meaning that your sessions couldn't run any later even if she did need the extra help you offered.

"No, need to apologise," Wanda replied with an easy smile. "I don't mind sticking around while you guys finish up. Especially when your little assistant is so cute." Her eyes turned to you, a smirk playing on her lips. The entire action seemed to freeze you in place, entirely unsure of what to say or do.

"Cat gets her tongue sometimes."

Your eyes flicked to your professor as she spoke, a very similar smirk appearing on her face to match her wife sitting next to her. The taller redhead hummed lowly at her comment, her gaze tracing over you. Sat in that chair, you felt entirely too seen. Your eyes darted around, unsure of where exactly to look while the pair of older women watched you. If there was something you were supposed to say, you mind could not conjure it. In that moment all you could do was sit awkwardly as two pairs of green eyes traced your every movement.

But then, a familiar tune rang out to your rescue. When before you'd cursed your forgetfulness to turn off your ringer, now you silently thanked yourself. Your eyes rushed to your backpack, then quickly back to your professor and her wife. "I'm sorry," you stuttered out. "Could I?"

"Go on, milaya."

You tried your best to ignore your professor's comment as you reached into your backpack for your phone, quickly holding it up to your ear. To no surprise, it was a familiar voice singing a familiar tune. Still, you found the situation grateful for its diversion from the stalemate conversation you'd been stuck in beforehand. As you hung up the call a minute later, you turned back to the desk with a sheepish smile. "It's Kate, she's locked herself out again."

Professor Romanoff raised a perfect brow. "That really is a bad habit of hers, hm?"

You fought back a small chuckle at her words, surprised she even remembered you'd said that. "Yeah," you smiled back, then dropped it into a small frown. "I am so sorry-"

Before you could even finish your sentence, the redhead was holding up her hand to stop you. "Don't worry about it, milaya. You can run along. I'll catch you in class on Wednesday."

Your eyebrows raised, not wanting to be an inconvenience to her yet again. "You're sure? I can easily-"

"I said it's fine, Y/N," Romanoff reiterated, her voice coming out more stern. It wasn't quite angry, just firm, but it was enough to shut your mouth right up. You looked back, eyes wide, afraid that you'd annoyed her by leaving early twice due to your roommates negligence. But at your response, the redhead simply smiled down softly at you angling her head towards the door. "Go on. I can handle the rest."

You found your head nodding almost on its own accord, directed by not only your professor's watchful eye but now that of her wife's too. Your words came out little and few, a mumbled thank you and another apology spilling from your lips as you packed up your bag and threw it over your shoulders. One last reassurance and smile sent you walking out the door, headed back to your dorm where Kate would be waiting for you. As you went, you were hyper aware of the two sets of eyes trained on your back, picturing the two redheaded woman still sitting at the desk watching you walk away. What you weren't exactly aware of was how their gaze dropped even lower, both staring at the short black skirt you'd decided to wear that day, watching how the material grazed lightly against the back of your tight-covered thighs. When you exited out the door, you couldn't see the way the taller redhead turned back to her wife, looking down at her from where she still sat on the desk, a wide smirk appearing on her face as she bit into a perfectly painted lip. You couldn't see the way the pair looked at each other, leaning closer in, nor hear the words Wanda uttered back to her wife before their lips met in a kiss.

"You're right, she is cute. Let's keep her."

#inescapable love au #professor natasha romanoff #lawyer wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader #wanda x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #platonic kate bishop x reader

[wandaromanoffroses]

"Isn't she gorgeous?"

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Requested

Warnings: 18+ content, breast sucking, fingering (R receiving), orgasm denial, strap-on use (R receiving), cock-sucking, vaginal sex, degrading, praising, profanity

Summary: Your husband, Steve Rogers, has been romantically and sexually starving you ever since he became an Avenger. After borrowing money from notorious crime leader, Natasha Romanoff, she breaks into your house to get what she's owed. However, when she finds you, his gorgeous wife innocently asleep next to him, you catch her interest and her plans change instantly.

Pairings: top dom!Natasha Romanoff x bottom sub!reader, Steve Rogers x Reader (nothing romantic or sexual happens)

Trigger Warnings: blood, gun wound, reference to implied SA (blink and you'll miss it).

“Y/n?” you nearly sent the plate in your hand flying to the floor, dropping it into the washing bowl before spinning around to see your husband in the doorway. You shook your head, sure that your eyes were deceiving you. He was never here even when he promised, never mind three weeks early. 

“Steve,” you said, drying your hands and rushing over to him but before you could pull him into a hug, he caught a hold of your shoulders to stop you. His touch sent a stab of pain into your chest and you were snapped back to reality, falling away from the lingers of a past moment you had momentarily forgotten wasn’t your present. You straightened your figure and took a step back, looking up at the man that had once been the light of your life, a guide in the darkness, someone special to share all the good with but now, he could’ve been a stranger.

You had been married for three years, together for five and the first few years would be the most treasured moments of your life. But ever since he had become an Avenger, it had consumed his sole purpose. 

Steve was always out fighting, carving his mark, making the world proud of his heroism while you stayed at home doing chores and completing mindless activities to pass the time. There was once a time where you could’ve sworn you saw Universes in his eyes. Now, his skin had been drained of colour and his eyes were rimmed with red as if he were a ghost that was forever cursed to haunt his loved ones. “What are you doing here?” you quizzed.

“I’m sorry," he said, bowing his head, “I’ve got into a bit of trouble, I wanted to make sure you were safe.” You frowned. 

“What trouble?” you questioned, “is there a villain after you? Can’t the Avengers help you?” You didn’t even bother hiding the bitterness in my voice. They were clearly everything he ever needed, what use were you to him? He sighed.

“Not exactly,” he said, “we should probably sit down.” You followed him into the dining room with caution in your steps, not taking your eyes off him. The walls were a fading, off-white, elaborate flowers twisted between leaves and detailed patterns, wooden panelling running along across the bottom. The light fixture in the centre was brass with three upturned light bulbs, the dining tables and chairs a polished rosewood. Steve had wanted the room like this because it reminded him of his Grandmother. It was awkward to clean and there was always a build of dust in here. You took a seat opposite him.

“What’s going on?” you said. He scratched the back of his neck.

“I know what you’re going to think but… alright I’ll just tell you. I took out a loan from someone a bit dodgy and I haven’t quite paid them back.” You raised an eyebrow.

“What’s ‘haven’t quite’ supposed to mean?” you said, raising your voice. 

“I haven’t paid them back, okay?” he exclaimed, “look, all I wanted to do was buy you a new house, I wanted to make you happy since you hate this one so much. I don’t see anything wrong with wanting to spoil my girl.” Generosity – the easiest attainable remedy for guilt.

“Well, I see something wrong with borrowing money you can’t pay back, especially from somebody that can put you and other people in danger,” you said, pushing yourself onto your feet, “what were you thinking Steve?” He slammed his fists onto the table and you jumped, your heart thumping against your ribcage.

“Listen, I thought I would have the money by now. It’s not my fault I can’t see into the future, you know I wouldn’t have even thought about it if I knew.” You closed your eyes, exhaling a long breath, trying to keep your composure. There were a hundred things you wanted to say to him right now but it wasn’t worth it. You either lived in peace or chaos; either way, nothing changed. 

“I thought I knew a lot of things about you but they turned out to all be wrong,” you said, “so I don’t know anymore. Nothing you do surprises me.” You stormed back into the kitchen, not wanting him to waste anymore of your time. You had dishes to do and by now, the water would’ve gone cold. 

“Y/n, come on. You haven’t seen me in three months and this is how you’re going to treat me?”

“I have dishes to do,” you said, picking up the plate you had dropped before, polishing it until it shone in the dim light peeking through the curtains, “someone has to keep the house clean.” And clearly, it wasn’t going to him. You felt a firm hand on my shoulder and all the muscles in your body tensed.

“I know you’re mad at me.” You scoffed. Mad wasn’t the right word – it was an array of messy emotions tangled together that had been fraying for years. There was more than just anger here, that was just an old friend that had withered and grown back into something much more cruel now. “Just please… let me make it up to you. I could die on a mission one day you know, you never know when one of these moments could be our last.” He had tried guilt tripping you before – it was a simple yet effective way of shifting blame onto the other person to ease your conscience. These games were getting so predictable. 

“And I’d be the last one to know,” you said, “maybe if I was lucky, I’d see it on the news.” You placed the last plate on the drying rack, emptying the washing-up bowl before walking away to leave him standing in the kitchen, alone. 

..........................................................................

You had avoided Steve as if he were the plague for the rest of the evening, only tolerating him in the same room as you when you went to give him his dinner. If you were nothing but his little housewife, you may as well play the part and poke it in his face. While you were getting ready for bed, you had paused by his chest of drawers, remembering the divorce papers you had hidden beneath the shirts he had outgrown or didn’t like anymore. Most of them had been bought by you and you could recall a memory with your husband in every single one. Maybe another day.

You couldn’t sleep but you kept your eyes tight shut when you heard him enter and move around the bedroom. Why didn’t you just sleep in the living room?, you thought as he slipped under the covers beside you. You figured he’d probably leave before you were awake so in his mind, you wouldn't even know. Dickhead. You didn’t know how much time had passed but you must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you see is blinding white.

“Steve, turn the lights off…” You let out a scream when a gunshot sounded through the room, colliding with your husband’s cry of pain. Your eyes flew open and immediately fell on the figure standing at the end of your bed, her ravishing, blood-soaked hair curled onto her shoulder, her eyes glittering with shattered pieces of jade. Your heart seemed to freeze in your chest. Natasha Romanoff – the most notorious leader of crime in the world. And she was here, in your bedroom. 

You turned to Steve and let out a strangled sob, the sight of scarlet soaking into the bed sheets making you dizzy. You heard the click of heels behind you and Natasha took a fistful of your nightgown before you could even process what was happening, pulling you away from him as if you were a mere feather. You screamed again and if it wasn’t for her strong grip on you, you would’ve collapsed to the ground.

She waited until you were steady enough to stand on your own two feet, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against her body. She was wearing a dress that emphasised all her curves and showcased most of her skin, your body flooding with dread. This woman was able to shoot Captain America without any protective clothing like it was nothing. There was no way out of this situation. We were doomed. I felt something hard in her crotch area, confused as to why she was carrying such a bulky item in her pockets.

“Leave her alone,” Steve whispered, his voice faint and overshadowed by anguish. 

“Get on the floor and don’t say another word unless I ask you a question or she’ll have to watch you die,” she snapped, “neither of us want that to happen, do we?” With resentment, he hobbled away from the bed, stumbling over to the wall and sliding himself down it, his hand clutched to the gun wound in his stomach. “Good.” She ran a finger down your cheek before beginning to trace your features, her head tilted to the side. “You didn’t tell anyone you had a wife, Rogers. Isn’t she gorgeous?” You shivered in her hold, her voice low and seductive. “What’s your name, pretty?”

“Y-Y/n,” you trembled, wishing you could strangle the butterflies in your stomach that her touch had provoked. This was insanity – she had just shot your husband and she was threatening to murder him yet she was making you nervous, in a romantic way. God, if only Natasha wasn’t so beautiful, this would be a whole lot easier. 

“Y/n Rogers?” she said, giving you a fake pout, “that doesn’t sound very nice, does it? Y/n Romanoff has a much nicer ring to it.” A crease formed between your eyebrows. What the hell was she implying? “Rogers, I’m willing to strike up a deal with you. But first, I’m going to fuck your wife until the only name she’ll remember is mine.” His eyes widened in horror and you let out a cry. 

“Natasha, that’s assault. You can’t,” Steve said. She smirked.

“Oh there won’t be any need for that,” she said, “it won’t take much for her to beg me for more.” She pushed you down onto the bed and straddled your lap, a pool of wetness already forming between your legs. This was so fucked up. “Give me consent and I’ll make you feel so good baby, better than you’ve ever felt. All you have to do is say the word.” 

You considered all your options but it didn’t take you long to decide since you only had two. You either let Natasha fuck you or you watched Steve die. You could treat it like a one night stand, you thought. You had never experienced one yourself but you’d read it in books so surely you would be able to do it.

Though you knew deep down, part of you wanted this. You were desperately touch starved and the thought of Natasha fucking you made you groan, heat rushing to your cheeks as the sound escape your mouth. You nodded and she gripped your jaw.

“Words bitch.”

“Yes,” you said, looking away from her in shame but she forced you to look back at her.

“Good girl,” Natasha said, lowering herself onto you and colliding her lips with yours, setting all your nerves alight. Her lips felt like velvet against your own, melting against you and setting a slow pace, letting you get used to the sensation. You couldn’t remember the last time Steve had kissed you, never mind like this. 

When your hand moved to her chest, she knew she’d won and she began kissing you with more passion, her teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You gasped and she took the opportunity to slip her tongue between the gap in your teeth. You didn’t even bother fighting against her, wanting Natasha to take full control and use you however she pleased. 

She separated your lips and began kissing your neck, her teeth ruthless against your skin as she began to mark you, leaving a trail of garnet blotches that would be seen by everyone. “Tell him how much you like this.” As much as you wished it wasn’t true, you were very much enjoying this. It was a terrible thing to admit to your husband but you had to remind yourself that his life was at stake here.

“I love it, I love being marked by you,” you said, “please don’t stop.” She pulled away when she reached your chest, reaching down and taking hold of your nightgown. 

“Can I take this off angel?”

“Please,” you said, ignoring that Steve was in the same room as you. You wanted this, you needed this, you hadn’t had sex in so long. Too long. She lifted herself off your waist for a few moments so she could discard you of your nightgown before continuing her path down your chest, stopping right before she reached your breasts. 

“So beautiful,” Natasha said before taking one of your nipples between her fingers and rolling it, earning her your loudest groan yet. She began to fondle the other roughly and the pain was soon replaced with pleasure that went straight in between your legs. You were a moaning mess beneath her, your forehead glistening with sweat and your breaths loud and sharp. “Listen to that, Rogers. Does she make these sweet, sweet noises for you? Do you Y/n? Tell me.”

“No,” I said, “only for you.” She tutted.

“Oh sweetheart, he doesn’t deserve you,” she said, “it’s okay, I’m going to take care of you now.” She ran her hands down your stomach and attached her mouth to your hardened nipple, your mind unable to decide what to concentrate on. She slipped her fingers beneath your panties and began snapping it against your skin, causing you to start bucking your hips into her. 

“I need you,” you said. You expected her to make you wait but her expression softened as she began sliding your panties down your legs, throwing them in Steve’s direction. “Look how she ruined them for me. If you weren’t so neglectful, this could’ve been you, Rogers. Don’t you ever forget that.” You gasped as the palm of her hand pressed against your cunt, brushing against your swollen clint. “So wet.”

“Natasha, please…”

“Beg,” she said, running her fingers through your folds and collecting your arousal, “let him hear you.”

“Please Natasha,” you said, “I need you to fuck me so bad. I need you inside of me, please make me cum.” Your words made her groan and you whimpered as you felt her push two fingers inside of you, giving you only a few seconds to adjust before she began thrusting in and out of you at a quickened pace. You felt a burning sting, grabbing her wrist to try and slow her down. “Nat, it’s too much, it hurts.” 

“What do you mean sweetie? Does he have a small cock?” There was a cruel glint in her eye when the realisation dawned on her. “He hasn’t fucked you in a longtime has he? How long has it been?” You were struggling to form coherent sentences at this point.

“Six months,” you admitted. He visited so little and he was always exhausted when he did, hardly even giving you any affection, never mind fulfilling your physical needs. You had shamefully been trying to fuck yourself for over a year now but you were either too embarrassed to keep at it for long or you were eventually forced to give up, too inexperienced to make yourself cum. You had never used more than one finger so you weren’t used to the stretch at all.

“You’re telling me your husband had access to this cunt anytime he wanted but he chose not to fuck you for half a year?” What a waste of such a perfect pussy,” she said, “shh, it’s okay, it’ll feel so good in a minute.” As if to prove her point, porn-worthy moans began to spill from your mouth as you were drowned in overwhelming bliss. She knew she had found that one spot inside of you when your noises became more intense and more wetness gushed from your entrance, the squelches of your arousal echoing around the room. You took fistfuls of the duvet beneath you in your hands, your walls began to clench around her fingers. But just before you reached your high, Natasha slipped her fingers out of you.

“No,” you cried, “I was so close.” She placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Not just yet,” she said, “I want you to cum on my cock.” You blinked up at her in confusion, not understanding what she meant. Was she perhaps intersex? “Get on your knees.” You scrambled to obey her command, your thighs glistening with white and she smirked. “Such an obedient thing. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” You did so without hesitation and she lifted up her dress and threw it on the floor, leaving her in a lacey bra and boxers. Your eyes fell onto her breasts that were full and sat perfectly, wondering how they’d feel in your hands and in your mouth. You were too distracted to pay attention to Natasha pulling down her boxers until a large, red strapon sprung into your face.

You were sheltered and didn’t have many friends so your knowledge on how two women had sex was low. You had accidentally come across some brief information about strapons while scrolling through social media, closing the app immediately and uninstalling it. You had never told anyone you liked women so any mentions of the topic made you panic and run in the opposite direction. Natasha noticed your hesitation.

“It’s just like sucking a cock,” she said, “you’ve done that, right?” You shook your head. Steve  was a very traditional man so you’d never done anything outside of the very basics. You had always wanted to explore more interesting options but you were too ashamed to ask or discuss any of your preferences with him. “God, so vanilla. Once I show you what you’ve been missing you’ll never want to go back. Do you want to try симпатичный (pretty)?” Her Russian Nickname for you sent a lustful thrum through your body despite the words being foreign and unknown to you. You knew there was only one correct answer to her question but you liked being able to show Natasha how much you desired to follow her orders.

“I’d love to try,” you said, “anything to please you.”

“Good girl,” she husked, nudging your mouth with the strap-on. Her other hand dug into your shoulder as she pushed it inside of your gaping mouth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

Natasha kept going even when you started choking, tears slipping from your eyes and smearing your makeup. The sight of you, a perfect housewife she had ruined and made a mess of, only made her thrust the toy into your mouth faster, desperately turned on. When she was satisfied that you’d wet it enough, she pulled out, showing enough mercy to let you catch your breath. “You’re already such a good cock-sucker.” She ran her thumb over your plump lips. “Aren’t you glad I put these lips to good use, hmm?”

“Yes,” you gasped, “thank you Natasha.” She placed a kiss on your forehead.

“So polite. Get on all fours and look at your husband.” You hesitated a little this time, suddenly remembering Steve’s presence. You turned around and followed her commands, your gaze meeting with his. Steve’s pupils were drowned in pain and clouded his emotions so you couldn’t identify them, blood still gushing from his gun wound. 

“Natasha, I think he’s going to die,” I said, “his stomach…” She looked over and saw that he was on the verge of passing out, his blood loss now critical. 

“I fear you’re right,” she said, “I thought we’d have more time with him, shame. Don’t worry милый (darling), he’ll be alright soon.” You heard footsteps thundering up the stairs before the door was flung open and several men dressed head to toe in black burst into the bedroom. You wondered how she had summoned them so quickly but you were too horny to dwell on the thought for long. 

You tried to cover your exposed body, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden but Natasha slapped your hands away. “They won’t look my angel, they wouldn’t even dare. Don’t let them distract you.” You felt something prodding your entrance and you whimpered.

“Please,” you breathed as she circled your entrance with the toy, collecting your arousal. 

“You’re somehow even wetter,” she cooed, “did you really love your face being fucked that much?” Before you could answer she began to push the tip inside, your soaked walls showing no resistance. She didn’t give you anytime to get used to the stretch, pulling out before slamming back into you seconds later. The pain only lasted a few moments before it dissolved into pure pleasure as Natasha pounded into you like a wild animal. You arched your bark, the dirtiest sounds you had ever produced spilling from your mouth and echoing through the room. You somehow managed to lift an arm and point it towards Steve’s shirt drawer.  

“There’s divorce paper,” you strung together between gasps, “in that drawer. I already signed them.” The men followed your finger and moved towards them, aimlessly throwing Steve’s shirts onto the floor. You saw a pang of hurt in Steve’s expression but you didn’t care. He should’ve seen this coming and even if he didn’t, it was his fault anyway.

As the divorce papers and Steve were dragged away, you moved your hips in rhythm with Natasha’s to try and get the strap-on deeper into you, every brush against your walls sending electricity through your body. She gripped your hips, encouraging your movements, grunting each time you slammed back against her. Your groans changed when she found your g-spot again and after that, she made sure to keep hitting it, a knot beginning to tighten in your stomach for the second time that night.

“I need to cum,” you said, “can I this time, please?”

“Such a slut,” she said, “soak my dick baby. Go on.” You screamed her name as you released all over her cock, stars blinding your eyes as your body shook with bliss, each new wave stronger than the last. After the longest orgasm of your life, you finally finished cumming, liquid staining your thighs. But Natasha didn’t stop, moving her hands up to your ass and massaging your cheeks. 

“Natasha, I’ve already cummed,” you said, expecting her to finally pull out but instead, she tutted.

“We’re not finished yet,” she said, “If I wanted to, I could have you cumming all over this cock all night. We’re done when I say we are. You are all mine after all, gorgeous.” After the initial discomfort faded away, you were soaring back up to cloud nine, ready to do whatever Natasha wanted.

“Of course,” you said, “I’m all yours now.”

#black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x y/n #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #marvel mcu #marvel smut #mcu x reader #mcu x you #mcu x y/n

[marvelobsessed134]

Sundresses and breeding kinks

A/n: was too lazy to make a collage for this I’m sorry 😭

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: g!p Natasha, top!natasha, sub!reader, daddy kink, housewife kink, breeding kink, extremely rough sex, crying, degradation (sort of?)

Summary: Natasha breeds you. That’s it. That’s the summary.

It was a typical Saturday afternoon at the Romanoff household. You were cleaning the bathroom counters having been neglecting the task the whole week. It’s not your fault! Seems like your wife wants to be balls deep inside you every second!

But of course, the task was interrupted by a certain redhead. “Your ass looks so good from here baby.” She commented, her eyes shamelessly ogling you.

You rolled your eyes ever so slightly and turned around. “Nat, please let me continue cleaning. I haven’t been able to get things done all week!”

The assassin just chuckled lightly as she walked towards you, caressing your face. “Such a good little housewife huh?”

Your knees buckled. She knew how much you got turned on from being called her housewife. “I- um-“ and you were already stuttering. Great.

Natasha walked closer to you, backing your up against the counter, her bulge touching your crotch. “Is it such a crime I want to fuck my wife all the time? I just can’t get enough of her.”

“I love being fucked by you, Nat. But I can’t be a housewife if I don’t do any of my chores.” You chuckled.

“Right. Which is why you need a baby. We need a baby.” Your eyes widened at her words.

“A-a baby?” You asked. She began to grind against you. “Yes. I want to breed you, detka. Cum so deep inside you that you forget who you are for a few seconds.”

You bit your lip, your core began to heat up. “I’d love that, daddy.” The use of the nickname got her even more hard if that was even possible. She growled lowly and smashed her lips to yours, squeezing your breasts as she did so.

“So fucking pretty. All for me huh?” She asked with a teasing smile.

“All for you daddy.” You moaned. She easily picked you up and carried you out of the en-suite and into your bedroom, laying you down on the bed. Immediately she lifted your dress up and pulled down your panties.

“Such a pretty pussy.” She growled, before diving in and eating you out like a starved woman. You gripped her hair as she worked her tongue through your folds and up to your clit. You curled your toes as you got closer and closer to the edge.

“Daddy, I’m gonna cum!” You moaned. “Cum for me pretty girl.” Natasha spoke against your core sending vibrations throughout your body. You screamed as you squirted out you finish. Natasha groaned that that. She loves that you’re a squirter. Makes it ever the more fun.

“Fucking love when you squirt baby. Makes it so fucking hot.” She groaned. She then straight up ripped your dress off groaning at the fact that you were wearing no bra underneath.

“Naughty girl.” She snickered, groping your tits, burying her face in between them. “I love these tits.” She groaned.

You felt her cock touch the inside of your thigh and you shifted ever so slightly. “Hmm? You want this cock in your pussy? Want daddy to fill you up?” You nodded with tear filled eyes. “Please daddy.” You whispered.

The redhead entered you with such ease and groaned at the fact. She began the fuck you harder than she ever had before, gripping your hips with such intensity that was definitely going to leave bruises the next morning.

She rolled her eyes back as she fucked you. You were both a moaning mess.

Suddenly she stopped. “Turn over, grip onto the headboard so I can ruin you properly.” Her words sent a shiver down your spine and you quickly complied, gripping onto the headboard.

The Russian smacked your ass as she plunged back into you, gripping your hips again and pounding into you fast. Your vision was blurry and your tits were bouncing like crazy as her cock hit your velvety walls again and again.

The only sounds in the room were those of skin slapping, moans, grunts, and the headboard shaking against the wall.

“Daddy!!!!” You cried as you reached your second orgasm, tears streaming down your face due to how rough she was being. But you loved it.

As if she already knew she growled, “Cum around my cock baby. I’m gonna spill my load inside you in just a few seconds. Fuck!”

You clenched and her and your vision went white for a moment as you felt pure ecstasy. That mixed with the feeling of her warm cum painting your walls made you weak and you practically fell face first onto the pillow.

Natasha was catching her breath behind you and pulled out, laughing at how you fell. “Guess I fucked my girl a little too hard huh?”

“No, loved it daddy. Want it to happen again.” You muttered into the pillow and she surprisingly understood you.

#marvel #marvel x reader #g!p natasha #natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff smut #top natasha romanoff #sub reader

[romanoffsbish]

Seed of Romanoff

Dark!Natasha Romanoff x Innocent!FReader

Request | A redhead spotted you in a cafe, and nothing was gonna stand in her way of getting to you | WC: 3,376

Warnings: Non-Con (Trafficking — By parent) | Abusive Mom | Drugs | Toxic Natasha |

Smut: Non-Con | Daddy (N) | Little Dove (R) | Restraints | Unprotected Sex (P in V - Natasha has a penis) | Degrading | Forced Breeding | Belly-Bulge |

You were hesitant, hands sweating, and teeth grinding levels of nerves raced throughout your entire body as you finally entered your house with Wanda, your new classmate turned friend. The girl had made it clear that she liked you, and the truth was you thought you might like her too, but you needed others approval first.

Your mom was really easygoing, most would say neglectful, but you figured that would probably work in your favor. It was Natasha, her youthful wife's approval that you craved, and for some reason, you never got.

——

"Hey mom," you greeted her with a hopeful smile, "I have someone I want you to meet." This caught Natasha's attention immediately, she sprung up from the couch and met the lot of you in the kitchen. You were so engrossed in letting Wanda introduce herself to them to notice the way your mom winced at your step mothers touch, her grip vice-like on her hips.

"It's lovely to meet you Wendy," Natasha replied, a cordial hand extended her way. The brunette chuckled awkwardly, shaking her hand out of respect, but you could see the way her demeanor had changed. It made you sad to see Nat likely didn't approve, because you were honestly running out of options at this point.

"Wanda," you politely corrected your stepmom, then went on in the same breath, "and I will be going up to my room now. We have an exam to study for this Friday." The way you rushed off, with her hand in yours, in a fit of giggles made the redheads blood boil.

"It's time," was all she offered your mother, the spineless woman nodded then set off to her bedroom while Natasha watched you walk into your own with the live footage now pulled up on her phone.

You were just too cute for words honestly, the way you plopped onto your bed with a silly smile made her swoon. Then she felt her mood fall when Wanda sat next to you, the strawberry brunette's hand brazenly laid on your bare thigh, and the jealousy was back as if it'd never truly left. Because it didn't, anytime someone so much as looked at what was hers she fumed.

You didn't know, but you were hers, she ensured that ages ago when she met your mom in a nightclub and tricked her into believing she was interested in her.

Natasha was well off, and your mother poor. It was easy for her to convince your mom to give her you. Your father left her when you were just a tike, and she resented you for taking her youth. As if you'd asked to be born, but regardless of the circumstances you were dealt, you were just so good. The kindest creature Natasha had ever seen, an obvious innocence that stemmed from neglect radiated from you, it was what attracted the redhead to you in the first place. When she saw you smile for the first time she was hooked.

Natasha, who was much closer to your age than your mother's, caught sight of you on campus one day. You smiled warmly at the barista, and she felt a darkness envelope her heart since it wasn't directed at her. She took a photo of you, but remained out of your eye line as she ran your face through an algorithm. Confirming to her that you were a bit younger, and so damn cute, the naivety radiated off of your instagram account.

All she knew after you left the coffee shop with a hum was that she had to have you. It was her final year of her doctorate while it appeared to only be the third of your bachelors. She knew better than to just approach you alone, you were far too delicate for her gruff, relentless demeanor. So she set out to learn all about you, and the life that led you to where you were now.

Then one day, when your mom was desperate for a fix, Natasha struck a hell of a deal. It was illegal in every single sense, but your mom took it without even a second thought to your safety or happiness. An endless supply of drugs and a home in Miami in exchange for you, her only child. The concept was sinister, and sadly fit her well. It wasn't even her first time considering it.

Fortunately, you got Natasha instead of the sleaze that propositioned her months prior. In this case, you were at least going to experience love, even in a twisted way.

Everything was finally falling into place for Natasha, your mom didn't seem to want to call it off, not that she really cared if she had. Now she could only work out if she handled Wanda first. No way was she about to let that slut have her way with you, your virginity was the redheads. She quite literally paid for that and your child bearing abilities, your genetic predisposition to fertility a cherry on top of the perverse sundae.

Your mother had vacated her womb enough times to confirm to Natasha that was the case. Surprisingly though, the redhead would've been fine if you were only able to carry one. As much as she wanted to breed you endlessly, until your body forgot how to be barren, she also was fine with one heir and the trophy wife.

First though, before she could embark on her fantasy, came the removal of the obstacle. Wanda, the younger redhead, who shared characteristics with the elder that made her want to laugh. Even in your conquest for love elsewhere did you find someone who resembled her. Whether it be her green eyes or red hair, there hadn't been a time where you brought someone unlike her home. It was a perfect reminder of your looming fate.

"Hey! Open this door right now!" Natasha shouted as the side of her fist pummeled into your locked door, "No closed doors in my house!" The action shook the walls surrounding you and startled you out of the horny girls grasp. Wanda glared at the shaking door and you just sat there with a delicate frown. Natasha had never so much as shouted at you before, so the sound actually left you feeling like a wounded puppy.

Your precious Natty, the light in the darkness that was your previous life with your mom was someone you didn't recognize at all today. It hurt your heart, because she'd never had an issue with you closing the door when Peter was over before. Though deep down you knew Wanda was harmless, your body began to regard her as a threat since your stepmom, who you adored, had clearly despised her. The cycle continued on.

"You should probably go," you sadly spoke up, "I-I really do need to focus on my study guide."

Wanda frowned, but with one look into your eyes she realized your daunting predicament. It was clear you were the mouse that'd collect the cheese, and Natasha was setting her trap. If she thought she could help she would, but deep in your gaze she could see you contently fell prey. The woman reluctantly nodded, standing to collect her bag just as she heard an ominous sound of metal scraping just outside the door. You stood up, and opened the door first, walking out to meet the fuming woman. Your soft hand settled onto her arm, and she lowered the hopefully empty gun.

"Are you okay detka?" You kindly smiled up at her over the concern, appreciating it and failing to see the way that her lips were fighting to keep from amusedly lifting. "Did she take advantage of you my little dove?"

"No," you sighed, smile falling ever so slightly, "We were just talking, she is leaving though." Wanda put truth to your words as she passed by in a rush.

"I'm sorry," Natasha solemnly said after a moment of awkward silence (she wasn't), "I just need you to be more careful sweetheart." Her lips gently pressed to your temple, and you melted into her, no discomfort present even as her pistol pressed into your back. "You are too pure, you'll never know who has ill intentions."

Oh how right she was... You'd never know.

With your front flush to hers she felt her cock twitch with anticipation for the upcoming day that she finally got to claim you, in totality. Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough. "I love you so much, my precious girl."

——

The following day you woke up to a knock, it was a simple two beats, so you lazily got up and once presentable headed downstairs to eat. However, instead of a table of delicious food you found your mom stood by the door with a suit case by her side.

"Mom?" The middle aged woman smiled, but it was weak as she opened her arms for a hug (a goodbye). It held an apology you didn't see; it was better that way.

"Hey kiddo, I'm headed off for a bit," she pinched your side and smiled, but her eyes looked sad as you met them. "Why? For how long?" She sighed, "A month."

"Natty too?" You cringed, you didn't mean for it to sound so obvious that you cared more about her, but it was always obvious. Charlotte never had the time of day for you, but Nat always did. Natasha found it hard not to laugh at your mom, whose face looked sad.

Natasha found the moment perfect, the way you were about to be all hers was beyond exhilarating. It was also a shameless way to check you out and disgust your vile mother. How dare she sell you... Like you were filthy trash... Fortunately you were left to Natasha, she'd never let you go, you were safest in her arms.

"Nope detka," Natasha sang from behind you, the sound of jingling keys followed her. "We're gonna take your mom to the airport, and then we'll get breakfast."

No one offered you more, not where your mom was going, nor the unsavory reasoning, and truthfully you didn't care to ask. Alone time with Nat was your favorite, every other time your mom left you alone with her you had the time of your life. This time would prove different though, you felt it when she kissed your lips as she entered the car after eating at the diner.

"Na-Natasha," you stuttered out her name, she found it amusing the way you were about to resist her advances even though your eyes had yet to flutter back open. "Don't worry detka, your mom is gone for good now, so we can finally be together. No more other people..."

"No, s-she said a month," you whimpered, both from the proposed betrayal and her hand on your thigh. "Your mother is a liar Y/N, you'll see that I'm not..."

The car ride home was quiet, except for the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears as her hand settled on your thigh, her grip possessive, and confusing. It was just as quiet when she guided you back inside the house, but it didn't remain as such. Natasha pushed you up against the door, with a gentle force to show you she meant what she said before, and you believed it when her lips and hands began to roughly roam.

"You're married," you tried to deter her, but she only shrugged and continued to kiss down your jawline. "That wasn't real, I only married her to have you."

"What?" Natasha pulled back, lips upturned as she saw the fear in your eyes and hot spurts of white coated the tip of her cock and spread all over her boxers. It was apparent to her that you were going to resist some, so she threw you over her shoulder and tossed you onto the bed that she shared with your mother. "Don't worry dove, we never slept together, daddy's all yours."

You cringed outwardly, but much to your shock, you felt as your heart fluttered at the twisted truth, and your virgin cunt dampened with her chosen title.

"I'm doing this for your own good," she informed you as she tied your hands to the posts of her bed. "It would be a shame if you tried to fight destiny."

"Natty," you whimpered, feelings disgusted as your core pulsed in need. “I-I.” For a brief moment she softened. "This is wrong, y-you're my step mom."

"I'm your daddy actually," she chuckled darkly, "I'm here to turn you into a mommy, so get comfortable."

No words left you as you tried to understand your fate. It wasn't until you felt the chilled tip of a blade on your bare skin that you realized you were now naked. "My mom won't be happy, you are not supposed to do this."

Natasha ran her blade down the side of your neck, a whimper left you as you felt the blood trickle down your skin and into the sheets. "Oh, you are just as naive as your mom is a filthy deviant; she gave you to me."

"N-no," you cried, you didn't want to believe her, but it wasn't like you didn't know your mom was a disaster.

"Your mother wasn't worth a sack of shit," she gritted against the skin of your neck as her hands roughly caressed your concealed womb. "But you, I just know that you'll be everything our kids will ever need."

"Kids?" You gulped, her words were clear moments ago, but yet you seemed confused until now, and the redhead chuckled, "Mhm, gonna fill you up until you are begging for more Y/N, my personal cum dump.”

Natasha smirked as your walls clenched around nothing in direct contradiction with your pleading words and persistent attempts to shove her away as your lower body pitifully tried to thrust her off. You were torn between the pleasure you'd craved for years, and the strangely alluring promise of becoming her pretty little housewife to push hard enough. "I'm not sure I want to be a mom Natty," you finally whimpered loud enough and she just laughed in your face as she pushed her cock inside of you without preparation.

The sight of your eyes crossing and mouth opening had her prematurely ejaculating, truly sealing your fate.

"Don't worry my little dove," she coo'd while stilling her hips, reluctantly allowing your untouched body a chance to get used to her twitching intrusion. "You'll be nothing like her, I promise, you'll be the perfect mom."

"I don't want to be," you cried, hands pulling at the restraints, but your words of protest were negated as you moaned like a filthy whore with a simple jolt of her hips. “Daddy isn’t in the business of caring detka.” You whimpered, heart shattering at the coldness you were not expecting from the woman you’d adored, but in the same breath you were incredibly turned on by it all.

This idea of being her filthy whore; just a hole to fuck and a womb to fill, was exciting you greatly. “That’s right detka, let daddy do all the thinking for you.” Her speed picked up in response. Your faux display of disinterest only spurring her on to show you just how much you wanted this too. It was a dual need.

With every thrust you could feel her tip twitch, and a spurt of her essence would follow. It alarmed you the more real it became that she was genuine about breeding you. Desire as you might to be hers, you were still in the process of your final year in undergrad, and had every intention to start your masters child free.

“Natasha please,” you cried, legs trying to squeeze shut, and your cunt was slick enough that it nearly pushed her back out but she thrusted against you. Her hips forced yours back onto the bed, and the way in which her tip slammed into your cervix made your mind go blank, and pussy flutter uncontrollably.

"Nice try slut!" Her fingers caressed the bump protruding from your abdomen in awe, the outline of the tip of her cock clear as day. "Your walls are working overtime to suck me dry, don't you feel it detka?" She grinned wickedly as her hand pressed firmly into your abdomen. "The urge to be full of me? My perfect little whore to breed. You'll never be hollow again."

You sobbed, it was gut wrenching, but not to Natasha. This was just par for the course, you needed a minute to see that this was always how life was meant to be. Natasha was your soulmate, you didn’t need anyone else, and she knew with time you’d be okay with that.

“Shh, stress isn’t good for baby making detka,” she scolded you as she pulled her cock out and kissed your lips with a tenderness, giving you emotional whiplash. Natasha slid a plug inside of you, it was efficient in keeping her cum inside, but purposefully short enough that you couldn’t derive pleasure by humping it. Your fate was indeed sealed; Natasha was a lot of (terrible) things, but she was never a liar. Her seed painted your fertile insides white, and every day since she's done the same. Sex with you had become a fast addiction, it took you only a minute to accept the reality. You sorta loved it, your stretched hole ached for her cock the entire time she would be away, you'd become insatiable too.

She wondered if it was the pre-natals she'd been slipping you every morning in your special smoothies that increased your need, but she liked to believe it was just your natural, insatiable attraction to her. Either way, she indulged the both of your carnal desires.

Before work she'd wake you up with her cock between your tits, you no longer wore clothes to bed because you never woke up in them anyways. After giving her head just like she wanted, with your once virgin mouth, she'd allow you to get her to the edge, but she'd always make sure to save her release for your womb.

Never one to waste an opportunity to fill you.

On the weekends she'd bend you over the coffee table, fucking you raw from the back while she caught up on her favorite shows. It was a mindless means to ensure you were carrying her kin, but at night she'd give it to you with more passion than before. There was a new toy at her disposal every single time, you wondered if the tellers at Kiss-N-Tell knew her by name now.

Natasha was a multi-millionaire, no cost was too much if it meant she could see you writhing with a pleasure only she could offer you. The redhead succeeded in ruining you for anyone else, and there was never much hope for another anyway. Not only were you stupidly in love with the woman, but you knew your only hope at freedom was her wife—your mom, who was gone.

That doomed hope of yours fizzled out fast. The month had come and gone, but in the end the only mother present within the four walls of your house was you as you held the test between your shaky hands. Two red lines, prominent in nature, flashed right up at you.

Natasha, the cause, was at work while you were crying in the bathroom. Then you heard the alarm on your phone. The oven was ready... You set two prepped buns on the pan, and zoned out as the sliders warmed. How hilarious and ironic as the two lines weren't the only pair at play here... Soon enough you'd understand.

Your heart soon cracked as Natasha held your son, Xavier, while your daughter, Inez, laid on your bare chest after a successful feeding. It was almost domestic, especially when Natasha kissed your lips with an unfamiliar tenderness.

"I can't wait for our family to keep growing," she grinned against your lips, feeling the way they shook as you gulped down your fear.

What a silly girl you were to hope for love...

#natasha romanoff #dark natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #gxg #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader

[nataliasquote]

Midas Touch | n romanoff

Summary: no amount of money will ever save a broken marriage or a broken woman. But maybe the right person can turn everything she touches into gold and this time won’t be cursed to break everything she cares about.

Warnings: affair, cheating wife, forbidden love, small mention of physical abuse (a slap)

Pairings: maid!Natasha x wife!reader

wc: 7.1k 😬

Note: another AU? Why are we even surprised. But this idea fully goes to @katyaromanoffpetrova who does just fuel my need to write every AU possible. If you thought cowgirl Nat was hot… oh just you wait. Also the end got angsty, but you should learn to expect that with me now..

-⧗-

Being up before the sun wasn’t anything Natasha wasn’t used to. Even before she got this job, mornings were her favourite. The way the world looked when it was kissed by the watery sun that rose above the rooftops hours before anyone was awake to see it was one of life’s hidden gems.

And one of the many perks of being a live-in maid to one of the richest men in the America was the views from every window in the staggering mansion. The west side of the house overlooked the bustling city below, which was beautiful at night. But Natasha’s favourite was the east wing that revealed rolling countryside and the perfect place to watch the sunrise over the distant hills.

Her maid duties never started this early, but she didn’t mind being awake. It gave her a sense of peace before the mania of the day began. She wasn’t the only maid in the Barnes residence, but her task was slightly different than everyone else’s. She was Y/n Barnes’ maid and that in itself came with a whole host of other challenges.

Seven am was when her ‘day’ started, for the lady of the house was not an early riser. She usually wouldn’t be seen out of bed until at least nine, but on the days James left for work early, she would always see him off from the front door. And wherever Y/n was, Natasha was never far behind, lurking in the background with her hands clasped in front.

Y/n’s laugh was the first thing Natasha heard of her boss, before she was even seen. Her voice oozed wealth and that laugh practically dripped honey and diamonds as it echoed through the high ceilings of the stairwell. With her arm draped over her husband’s bicep, Y/n lingered on the last step, teasingly trying to tower over James’ muscular frame as he shrugged his suit jacket on.

He muttered something in her ear and Natasha watched as Y/n’s neutral expression suddenly switched to a cunning smile and her fingers fumbled with the small tie holding her feathered robe closed. The front fell open, revealing her nightwear beneath it and it was not hard to see the way James’ eyes fell to his wife’s cleavage for a couple of seconds.

These small moments cemented why they were the nation’s favourite couple, and also why Vogue was so insistent on featuring them on the cover. They were still so lovesick yet utterly perfect in a way that didn’t happen by chance. This level of perfection was almost nauseating.

Y/n stepped down off the bottom stair and looked up at James through her lashes, playing the innocent game despite being anything but.

“Goodbye, my love. Try not to murder anyone today,” she husked in her husband’s ear, draping her arms around his neck with a lazy smile. James’ hand fell to the small of her back and he pulled her into him, kissing her lips hastily.

“No promises. Be good.” Y/n was on her tip toes but hardly felt the coolness of the stone floor on her bare feet. She leaned her face into Bucky’s palm that had risen up to cup her cheek. Soft fingers straightened out the lapels of his pristine suit jacket almost habitually.

“No promises,” she mimicked with a smirk, her eyes sparkling playful up at her husband who was transfixed by her sultry gaze. She was truly a siren, luring him in with a simple glance and a smile. Her power didn’t come from her social status; it came from her. The kind that couldn’t be earned or bought, no matter how much money you had.

With another lingering kiss, James pulled away and reached for the drawer of car keys and selected from the collection of sports cars most could only fantasise about. His dark grey McLaren Senna was today’s pick and he tossed the key in his palm like it wasn’t part of a car costing close to a million dollars. His wealth really was astonishing.

Y/n watched him disappear out of the heavy iron front doors and pulled her robe tighter around her body, concealing the simple navy blue silk slip dress that hung delicately from her shoulders. Her robe matched in colour, of course, and the feathers adorning the trim and cuffs swayed as she wandered into the vast kitchen.

She was the typical rich housewife, but it didn’t look tacky on her. She suited this life. Her wrists, neck and fingers might as well have been crafted to be decked out in priceless jewels, her body to wear only the finest garments. Even just the way she moved oozed grace and elegance subconsciously. A sight for sore eyes.

“Natasha,” she called, knowing the redhead was only a few steps behind her. “I’d like my breakfast on the balcony today please.”

“Yes ma’am,” Natasha replied with a small nod of her head.

“Oh, and don’t bother bringing any of that apricot jam you brought yesterday. I only want strawberry, darling. Only strawberry.” She swept back out of the room in a flash of blue and Natasha scurried down to the kitchen to inform the chef.

Now, if it was anyone else, that pet name probably would have sent them reeling. But Y/n was extremely fond of using those names, so it was basically second nature to Natasha.

The breakfast tray was laden with food and beverages as Natasha brought it out onto the balcony. Y/n was relaxing in a chair, still in her nightwear and robe as she scowled over the newspaper in her hand.

“You know, I do find these world affairs awfully boring.” Y/n didn’t bother looking up from her newspaper as Natasha appeared with the tray. She frowned at the column she was reading before folding it away on the table. “I don’t suppose you read that kind of thing anyway.”

Natasha carefully set the coffee pot down on the table. “I try to keep up with what’s going on in the world. But not as often as I’d like.”

“Do you read the paper?”

“No, Ma’am.”

Y/n hummed. “You can have this one if you want. I don’t care for it and James only complains about the headlines. You’d make much better use of it, honey.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. I really appreciate it.”

“Natasha stop,” Y/n held her hand up, making Natasha freeze mid pour. “I’ve told you to call me Y/n. All this ‘ma’am is making me feel old!” Y/n sighed dramatically, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. “I’m not even thirty yet, don’t make me age faster.”

“I’m sorry, Ma-,” she faltered but caught herself quickly, “Y/n, it’s a force of habit.” It wasn’t so much of a habit than it just felt weird to say. This first name basis insinuated they were friends, not two people on drastically different pay grades.

“Well, luckily for you, habits were made to be broken.” There was a heavy intonation in her words, laced with hidden meaning but Natasha just busied herself with setting up the breakfast platter. Various fruits and pastries were laid out, despite Y/n always just picking at a few berries and a croissant. Natasha hung back near the french doors, admiring the scenery so she didn’t watch her boss as she ate.

Y/n slid her sunglasses back onto her nose and stood up to lean over the balcony, the gentle breeze blowing her open robe softly. “Did that package arrive yet? The one from the lingerie company?”

“Yes, it’s in your dressing room.”

“Perfect,” Y/n hummed, her eyes sparkling behind tinted lenses. “I’m going to go try it all on, I think. When you’ve taken the tray, join me, will you?”

Natasha faltered, trying not to look at the outline of her boss’s figure through the thin material of her robe. But with the sun shining through it, it was proving difficult to keep her eyes off the curve of her hips.

“Me?”

“Yes you, Natasha,” Y/n confirmed, smiling to herself. “Who else would I be talking to?”

“My apologises ma’am, I’ll take this right away.”

Y/n didn’t bother correcting Natasha that time, too busy gazing at the rolling landscape beneath her. She found comfort in nature, the way the breeze brushed over her skin and the sun kissed her cheeks making her melt slightly. It differed vastly from the heavy touch of James’ hands, ones she played through a heavy facade to enjoy.

Y/n’s dressing room was that of dreams, just like the rest of her house. But she barely noticed it anymore. Her gaze settled on a white box on the central dresser, smiling to herself. She enjoyed the luxuries of life, and that included lingerie too. She told everyone it was for James, but really it was for her.

She just wanted to feel good for herself.

But those damn feathered sleeves kept getting in the way, so she shrugged her robe off and let it pool on the floor around her feet. She barely noticed the cooler air on her exposed limbs, too busy pulling off the lid and moving the tissue paper aside to reveal the soft coloured lace and mesh, all pastel colours for spring.

Natasha rushed back upstairs as gracefully as she could, passing through the master bedroom to the dressing room at the end. The door was ajar so she knocked three times, as usual, before pushing it open. Her breathing faltered involuntarily.

Was it normal to have that kind of reaction after seeing her boss in nothing but a mini slip dress? There was so much skin and Natasha took a second to gather her thoughts before she announced her presence, keeping her eyes firmly away from the woman in front of her.

“Natasha I want your opinions on these, come here.” The redhead obeyed and joined her side, eyes widening at the items before her. “What do you think?”

This kind of underwear was probably worth Natasha’s entire salary and she was apprehensive to touch it. Her hands stayed by her sides but she tried look objectively, even if she could barely tell the difference between the sets.

“I like that one the best,” she murmured, pointing slightly to a soft pastel blue set. Y/n smiled and plucked it from the box, holding it in front of her.

“Me too, you’ve got good taste.” Y/n slipped one strap of her nightdress from her shoulder and Natasha immediately turned around, almost squeaking at the lack of warning. “You didn’t have to do that, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Except it was. Because this wasn’t just any woman’s body, it was her mistress’s and there was no way she would ever be able to erase the images burned in her mind.

“I’ll just,” she started, trying to fill the silence by picking up the discarded robe and hanging it on a hook to her right. She caught Y/n fiddling with the bra clasp on her back, the hooks not quite fitting together.

“I hate new clasps,” Y/n exclaimed through gritted teeth, the hooks slipping once again. “Natasha, would you-?”

‘Don’t look don’t look don’t look’ was all that ran through Natasha’s mind as she carefully fastened the bra. She ignored the way her fingertips brushed Y/n’s skin, this wasn’t the first time. She was her maid, for gods sake. But Y/n was usually adamant that she could get dressed by herself, so Natasha rarely found herself around her mistress in just her underwear.

With a muttered thank you, Y/n wandered over to the mirror, adjusting the way her boobs sat in the cups before admiring the set. It was perfect for spring, the baby blue mesh and complimenting white and yellow flowers sitting flush against her tanned skin. The way the material hugged her body rivalled that of a custom made piece and Y/n hummed, content with what she saw in the mirror.

“It looks- beautiful,” Natasha faltered, keeping her composure as best she could. “James will love it.”

Y/n chuckled in the mirror, her hair shaking across her back as she laughed. “You really believe I care what he thinks?”

Natasha’s brows creased. Was that not why Y/n had those underwear sets in the first place? The redhead was empathetic but she didn’t have a significant other, there was no time for that. So her judgement was skewed, and it showed.

“I thought-“

“That’s cute.”

Natasha stuttered. “I’m sorry?”

“You,” Y/n locked eyes with her in the mirror. “You’re cute. James doesn’t care about this kind of stuff, it’s all for me, darling.” She adjusted the strap of her bra and didn’t miss the way Natasha’s eyes followed her fingers. “And now you, I suppose?”

“No, I wasn’t-“

Y/n swivelled round, hands on her hips. “I’m teasing you, darling, don’t worry that pretty little head of yours. Frown lines don’t look good on you.” She reached up and softly brushed her thumb between Natasha’s eyebrows, smoothing out the creases that had formed there. The redhead visibly freezed under her touch, the feeling lingering long after her fingers were removed.

“You’re a beautiful girl, Natasha. Who’s the lucky man in your life? Or lady?” Y/n’s eyes shifted, forgetting that she was still in her lingerie set. Natasha breathed out a laugh and darted her gaze to the floor, offering Y/n her robe again.

“I don’t have anyone,” she admitted, missing the look that crossed Y/n’s face. “I spend all my time here, I don’t need anyone.”

“Then I’m honoured to be the lucky lady. And lucky I am.” There was something so alluring about Natasha that Y/n had been hooked on since she laid eyes on her new maid a few months ago. Reserved at first, Natasha was exactly what Y/n needed after years of overbearing and intrusive maids. Natasha was a similar age and felt more like a friend than a maid.

With a confident air about her, Y/n tried on the rest of the lingerie, placing the ones she disliked back in the box with a sigh. Sticking with the blue theme, she slipped on a blue and white sundress, clasped a tennis bracelet around her wrist, slotted her sunglasses into her freshly combed hair and waltzed back onto the balcony. Natasha stayed behind, fumbling with the ribbon around the box before she handed it to the doorman who would organise the return.

The days when James was at work were usually slow and Natasha had some time for herself for a couple of hours whilst Y/n was occupied. Natasha took herself into the city in the late afternoon and ended up in the one store she had never set foot in before.

The lingerie store.

It was a privately owned boutique, of course it was, this neighbourhood didn’t do chain branches, and she quickly walked past the more provocative sets towards the tables at the back. A friendly store worker greeted her but Natasha just kept her head down, politely shaking it when asked if she wanted help.

She was out of her comfort zone, and painfully so, picking up a risky looking set before setting it down a little too quickly. A simple red lace bra caught her eye and she picked it up, only to glance at the price tag and lay it down gently. How could something like that cost so much? Natasha had seen heavier price tags than that of course, she spent her days around Y/n Barnes for god’s sake. But when shopping for herself, everything just seemed too expensive and far too lavish for a plain girl like her.

Natasha was anything but plain, yet she would never see it.

As she looked around the rest of the shop, her mind kept falling back to the red set. It was burned into her mind no matter how many other pieces she saw, and somehow Natasha found herself back at that table again, fingers fumbling over the delicate lace design.

She picked it up, a soft blushing rising to her cheeks at the thought of wearing something so… out there. But the phone in her pocket buzzed and she quickly grabbed it.

Mrs Barnes:

James has set up a date night. I need your help please :)

The red lace set was long forgotten, her mind shifting into work mode in an instant.

Just leaving now. I’ll be there.

When she returned, Natasha headed straight upstairs to find Y/n just leaving the bathroom. Her hair was still dripping and her skin damp, shining in the warm light of her dressing room.

Natasha got to work, drying and styling her hair almost on instinct, having done it so many times. Y/n thoroughly relaxed, adoring the way Natasha felt as she worked through her hair. She softly tugged her roots, but not enough to hurt. Just so it felt like a massage and her eyelids threatened to get heavy.

Date night outfits ranged from lavish to simple, and tonight was a simple night. A little black dress with a deceitful price tag was selected from the closet, a fan favourite of Y/n. She wriggled into the tight material, loving the way it hugged every part of her body as she pulled it up over her chest and slipped the thin straps over her shoulders.

“Where did you go today?” Y/n asked as Natasha zipped up the back of her dress, holding the fabric tight.

“Mostly just window shopping.”

At the mention of shopping, Y/n’s ears pricked up. She wasn’t just making conversation- she was invested. “Did you get anything nice?”

“Not really. Saw a couple of things but-“

“You know you can always take my card if you see something you like,” Y/n insisted, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress to straighten it out. “What store did you visit?”

“It wasn’t anything special.” Y/n shot her an unimpressed look over her shoulder. “I went to the lingerie boutique-“

“No you did not,” Y/n exclaimed, her jaw dropping in excitement as she turned around, clothes long forgotten. “And you didn’t get anything? Oh darling no, we are taking you back there tomorrow and getting you sorted out.”

Natasha moved over to the heels cupboard and selected a classic pair of black patent stilettos. She placed them in front of Y/n for her to slide her feet into, holding onto her hand for support.

“You’ve got that photoshoot tomorrow, so no, we won’t have time.”

Y/n paused, her dangling earring paused in mid air. “And you think they won’t reschedule if I ask them to?” Her brow raised in a ‘try me’ fashion.

“Y/n,” Natasha began to protest. “You don’t need to do that. It’s not like I need anything fancy like you anyway, it’s useless…” she trailed off, a pang in her chest triggering a wave of doubt to shudder down her body. “Vanity Faire won’t be too impressed if you cancel on them again.”

“If they want me, they’re going to have to work around it,” Y/n countered, silencing Natasha as she stalked over, slightly taller than the redhead thanks to her heels. “You are beautiful and you deserve to treat yourself like that. Everyone does, even James and he’s an asshole sometimes. So take this,” she reached into her bra and pulled out her black card, smirking at how Natasha’s brows shot up. “Take this and spoil yourself. I mean it, okay?”

“Thank you ma’am, I’m-“ Y/n almost plucked the card back out of her hand. “Y/n, thank you. You’re too kind to me.”

“Oh stop it, my ego is big enough already.”

The dressing room door flew open to reveal James, narrowed eyes as he stared at the proximity between the two women. Natasha took a couple of steps back but Y/n stayed put, clasping a bracelet around her wrist nonchalantly.

“Y/n, get out here,” he demanded, never one to speak any clearer than he had to. His wife rolled her eyes at Natasha but obeyed, sending her one final look over her shoulder before the door swung shut.

Now they were alone, James grabbed her wrist and shoved her against the wall, towering over her in the only way he knew how to display his power. The power he held over his wife, power that meant he could crush with a single fist if he wanted to.

“James,” Y/n grunted, wincing as his fingers dug into the tender flesh around her wrist. “What is wrong with you?”

“Flirting with the maids now, huh?” He growled, thick brows casting a shadow across his eyes menacingly. “I fire one, you move onto the next, is that how it is?”

“And what if I was?” Y/n baited, not flinching as his body trapped her between the wall and his torso. “Are you threatened? By that cute little thing in there?” She nodded her head in the direction of the dressing room where Natasha was before James gripped her jaw and pulled her face back to his.

“Don’t you dare.” But she did dare. She wasn’t sadistic, but the smile that curled the edge of her lips was downright crazy. But she knew how James was; they fought fire with fire, too stubborn to ever back down.

“Careful, James. Marks, remember?” His grip softened lightly. “Wouldn’t want the paps to spin a story now, would we?”

She saw how he wanted to retaliate, but also knew that she was right. He leaned closer before pulling away, huffing through his nose. “You’re so fucking lucky I love you,” he hissed before he let go of her jaw and allowed her to walk away. His job didn’t help his violent side but James had vowed since day one that he would never harm his wife. Y/n knew it too, and she pushed him to the very edge. Just daring him to.

“Weird way of showing it, but ok,” Y/n mumbled under her breath as she pushed the door closed and took a breath. Natasha averted her eyes, suddenly so busy with a hanger that had been placed backwards. Did she put it there on purpose? That’s not for anyone to know.

She’d seen the strained moments between the husband and wife but often kept her head down, not wanting to fall under James’ wrath. If she was invisible, it was better, but that was easier said than done with Natasha.

Y/n finished clasping her last few pieces of jewellery before accepting her fur shroud from Natasha. The redhead didn’t let on that she had heard every word said next door, but Y/n knew by the way she avoided eye contact that she had.

“You can have the night to yourself, darling,” Y/n winked, checking over her outfit in the mirror beside Natasha. “And you better buy yourself that set.” She gestured to the card in her maid’s pocket, insisting she used it. “I want proof that you did.”

“Thank you, really.”

Y/n blew an air kiss and disappeared to meet James, leaving Natasha once again alone. She felt the weight of the card in her pocket, seeming to grow heavier the more she thought about it. Y/n meant well, but could she really buy something like that with her mistress’ money?

Whilst Natasha debated with herself, Y/n had put on her ‘public’ face. The one that showed she was so madly in love with her husband, clinging onto his bicep as they moved from the car to the restaurant lobby. Paparazzi followed their every move, of course, and James’ bodyguard ushered the couple into the building as fast as he could.

Most celebrities hated the paps with a passion, but James loved them. He loved how much he manipulated them, and they snapped up pictures of the married couple like there was a drought. There was no doubt those pictures would be spattered across gossip sites by tomorrow morning, but that was only more free publicity for him. James Barnes never lost.

However, despite the perfect image they had carefully constructed, more often than not, date nights with James ended alone. He would excuse himself for a phone call just as the food arrived and Y/n could always see him in a private area of the balcony, phone pressed to his ear whilst his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose. Y/n picked at her food in silence, washing every mouthful down with a sip of wine. She ignored the stares and whispers and just played her role to perfection, often sending worried glances out to James.

Tonight she had struck up a harmless conversation with one of the waiters, a young man with a far too eager smile. But she tolerated him for company, politely laughing as he tried to crack an admittedly horrible joke. He was surprisingly good company for the thirty minutes her husband had disappeared for. Although it didn’t help with how sad her situation looked. Y/n was nothing if not flirty, it was in her nature. The way she crossed her legs and looked up through her lashes with a sultry stare had every man, and woman, hooked.

Her siren tendencies didn’t end with her husband, and the waiter hovering by her table was drinking up the attention. It was a big deal for him, one of the hottest women giving up her time to talk to him. He was far too young for her, but Y/n humoured his attempts at flirting, twisting her shoulders so he had a good view from where he was standing. There was a fine line between hot and just plain sleazy, but Y/n would never cross it. She was too good at toying with people.

After a while, James came storming back in, his eyes darkening not only from the outcome of his phone call but also after seeing his wife laughing over another man. His judgement was clouded by anger and he grabbed his jacket, not even bothering to take a bite of his now-cold food. Y/n jumped at his sudden movements but smiled sweetly, thanking the waiter who had stiffened.

“Let’s go,” James growled, throwing down a wad of cash as a tip before storming towards the elevator. Y/n took a moment to gather her things before scurrying after him, her red bottomed shoes clicking loudly against the pristine floor.

“Is everything ok?” She dared to ask once the doors had closed. James looked up briefly, eyed the security camera and clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck shifting too.

“I work with imbeciles,” he grunted, his hand undoing the top button of his shirt in one fluid motion. “How was the food?”

“It was good,” Y/n stated, slightly wishing she could have finished her glass of wine.

“Good? I pay all this money and that’s the best you can do?” Bad phone calls always sent him into this mood, but Y/n had been with him long enough to know how to tame the tiger.

She stepped in front of him and ran her hands up the front of his sculpted chest, brushing over the muscle and up towards his shoulders. “It would have been better if you were there,” she spoke lowly, her hand sliding up to brush the stubble on his jaw.

James slid his hands around her waist possessively, pulling her flush against him. Anyone could walk in, the elevator wasn’t private, but they wouldn’t dare say anything to James Barnes. No one who confronted him ever walked away unharmed.

“Yeah? Even though you had your new little boy toy?” Oh he was jealous and Y/n had to tense every muscle in her body so she didn’t laugh. “I saw you.”

“You really think he had anything on you?” She asked sweetly, playing him just the way she knew. “I was just bored, baby, I missed you.”

“Damn right. I hope that fuckboy knows you’re mine, and mine only.”

“I’m yours, James, I’m yours.”

She was James’, so why did her mind drift to Natasha for a fleeting moment as she said it?

~~~

Y/n had dismissed Natasha for the night earlier than normal, letting her have the evening to herself before they went out. And she praised herself now, knowing James’ rage was just bottled up and sooner or later it would come out. She didn’t want her meek little redhead to have to see that.

And she was right. Whatever James had been feeling, he held it in until they were both nearly ready for bed. Y/n slid her rings off and placed them in the dish on her nightstand, each one clinking against the porcelain as she dropped it.

“What did you talk to him about?”

Y/n paused her movements for a second. “You’re still going on about that? I told you, it was just harmless conversation.”

“It didn’t look harmless, the way you were looking at him.”

Y/n was quite literally at the end of her tether with his accusations. “And how was that? How did I look at him?”

James rounded the bed, the single chain resting on his bare chest catching in the lamplight. “Like a slut.” His eye twitched, a sign he was pissed. “How do you think that looks for me? I step away for two seconds and my wife is whoring herself out to anyone she can find.”

“I find it laughable that you think you were away for two seconds,” she countered, stepping to the side to free herself from where he’d boxed her in. “May I remind you that I had finished my meal long before you even stepped foot back inside. He just came to talk to me and I engaged with the conversation, is that so bad?”

“Don’t use that tone with me,” James spat, his eyes following her figure as she paced around the room. “You shouldn’t-“

“Shouldn’t what? Shouldn’t talk? That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? A quiet little wife who only speaks when she’s spoken to and follows you around like a lost puppy.” James set his jaw, hands clenching by his sides. But Y/n carried on, spurred on by his accusations. “Well that’s not me James, and you know that!”

She paused and ran her fingers through her hair, exasperated. “How do you think it looks on you? You bring your wife out on a date but then can’t switch off from work for two minutes to actually enjoy your time with her! I’m saving your ass here, so be fucking grateful!”

That last sentence pushed him over the edge and James stormed over to her like a bull, backing her into a corner. “Grateful? Why should I be grateful? You’re a slut and-“

“Then treat me better and maybe I wouldn’t have to stray so far!”

James’ hand had connected with her cheek faster than either of them had time to process, his rings cutting into her skin painfully. They both froze. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, the sting of the slap blooming across her cheekbone. James was breathing hard, his hand still raised from the recoil.

An apology would come… wouldn’t it? It had to, he didn’t mean that. Y/n couldn’t move, it was like the air had been sucked out of the room. Her stomach lurched, just urging James to say something. Anything.

A whole host of scenarios of how the next few moments might play out raced through Y/n’s mind, but she didn’t foresee her husband walking out without a word, a button up shirt in his hand.

She watched the door click shut before she sank to the floor, legs buckling beneath her. She didn’t want to cry, he wasn’t worth that, yet the tears still fell, dripping down into the carpet that pressed into her knees. It wasn’t from the pain, but from how stupid she felt.

Why was she still pretending? She played off everything he said to her, claiming it didn’t hurt when in reality it cut deep like a knife. Beneath her defences, she just wanted someone to care and not just because she was pretty. She wanted the slow mornings, the affection that wasn’t just for show. The ‘hey how was your day’ that wasn’t just one sided. But Y/n had sacrificed all of that the day she married James, naive enough to think he’d warm up over time.

The house felt eerily quiet and the blanket of night settled across every room. Ignoring how the clock chimed two, Y/n hauled herself up off the floor and trudged down to the kitchen, barely noticing the icy floor on her bare feet.

The freezer must hold ice packs or something similar, anything to stop bruising and swelling that always leads to questions. Y/n didn’t even bother to check if anyone was around before she pulled the door open and rummaged around, falling upon a bag of frozen peas. Not ideal, but it would do.

Except for the hum of appliances, the kitchen was silent and shadows appeared as the dim fridge light cast a small pool around her. No one was here at this hour, so Y/n dropped her guard and slumped her shoulders, leaning against the side of the fridge with exhaustion.

But she wasn’t alone.

A certain redhead had frozen in place, her spoonful of ice cream hovering somewhere between the pint and her mouth. Natasha was a midnight snacker and her feasts were usually undisturbed, but the sound of footsteps had her retreating into a corner.

It was only when she saw that familiar curtain of hair did she emerge, slowly, as if approaching a small animal, to not scare her off.

“Y/n?” Natasha emerged from the shadows, spoon still in her hand. Y/n did a double take but kept her face turned away, forcing her guard up in a split second.

But it was too slow for Natasha. She saw the vulnerability

“What are you doing down here?”

“I came to get a snack,” she replied with as much conviction as a toddler. Green eyes fell to the bag of peas… interesting snack choice.

“Why didn’t you call for me? I would have come myself.”

“It’s the middle of the night, Natasha.”

“Which is exactly my point, why aren’t you asleep-“

Y/n suddenly emerged from the corner and allowed the fridge light to hit her cheek. Natasha recoiled with a gasp, blinking quickly to wake her brain up. Was she hallucinating or was that what she thought it was? Y/n’s eyes were heavy and looked at the floor, too ashamed to watch Natasha’s reaction

“Did he…?”

The lack of response that followed was louder than a thousand words and Natasha felt her blood boil. She would happily be put away for battery if it meant she could get her hands on James, but she had more pressing matters to attend to.

Abandoning her spoon on the metal table with a clatter, Natasha hurried over and prised the bag of vegetables from Y/n’s hand. She wrapped them in a towel and gently pressed them to her cheek, muttering an apology as her mistress winced.

“What happened?”

Y/n chewed her lip, still avoiding eye contact. “Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Natasha nodded. “Ok,” she replied, respecting her wishes. You couldn’t push with Y/n, she had to come to you. “Here, sit up on there.” She helped Y/n hop onto the counter and her body instantly relaxed.

A comfortable silence fell between them both, somehow not affected by Y/n’s reluctance to talk. They never needed words, that’s what Y/n liked about Natasha so much. She was a comforting presence, and Y/n felt so at home around her.

With their faces so close, Y/n felt her chest warming at things she’d never noticed before. There were flecks of brown in Natasha’s clear green eyes, almost mirroring the freckles that danced faintly across her nose. The frown lines she had wiped away earlier were back and Y/n fought the urge to brush them away again.

After ten minutes, Natasha set the ice pack down on the side and helped Y/n down, the stone now digging into her butt uncomfortably. “Just let it rest for a bit before you ice it again. You don’t want to damage the skin.”

Y/n nodded, her face already numb. Their proximity was close but neither made an attempt to move. Natasha couldn’t keep her eyes off how red her cheek looked and Y/n desperately needed something to shut up the voices in her head.

Her eyes dropped down to Natasha’s lips, wanting to cry with how soft they looked. How gentle they’d feel on her skin, a stark contrast to the rough lips she was used to feeling dragging across her collarbones and neck. Natasha was soft and Y/n felt herself craving it.

“No, Y/n no.” Lost in her head, she’d failed to notice Natasha catching on, almost reading her mind. And as much as the redhead would love to reciprocate, it was inappropriate and not just because of her job.

Y/n leaned forwards, eyes glossy. “Please, Natasha-“

“You’re hurting, I won’t-“ Natasha shook her head, taking Y/n’s trembling hand in her own. She could make a pretty educated guess as to what had happened and did not want to be a part of Y/n’s inevitable. She pushed her own feelings down, stuffing them in a box and cramming the lid on tight.

But Y/n never made her life easy. She gripped Natasha’s hand, pulling it into her. “Please?”

“No, we can’t, you know that. And you’re my boss, Y/n-“

“Nat, I- I want you. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

The redhead faltered, watching the way her mistress’s chest heaved. Her head screamed at her to stop; it was so wrong. She couldn’t avoid the way her cheek burned red in the dim light, a stark contrast to the rest of her pale face. Never had she seen this much vulnerability in the woman who was full of wit and confidence.

The strength she was so used to seeing had completely disappeared and Y/n peered at her with tears on her waterline, her facade crumbling away with every second that ticked by.

Those seconds felt like an eternity before Natasha slowly reached her hand up.

But it was too soon.

Y/n flinched away, a tear escaping as she let out a whimper. Natasha quickly retreated her hand and let the woman before her turn back, not wanting to push her in any way.

“You’re safe,” Natasha whispered. Y/n’s eyes searched hers, trying to find any sign of a lie. But she came up empty. With a trembling hand, she reached for Natasha’s palm and allowed it to cup her other cheek. The touch was soft, warm, and everything she wasn’t used to. Even on instinct, Y/n couldn’t help but lean into it, eyelids fluttering closed for a split second before she forced them open.

“I’ve got you.”

Y/n glanced at Natasha’s lips and back up to her eyes. She needed to feel that warmth, she needed to kiss lips that didn’t curse her all day long.

“Natasha…”

The redhead couldn’t stop herself anymore and let Y/n lean forwards, connecting their lips in the most gentle kiss. Y/n tasted the sweet dessert on her lips as they moved against each other slowly, the hand on her cheek moving around to the back of her neck to hold her in place.

“Did you have ice cream?” Y/n mumbled against her lips, goosebumps lighting up her skin at Natasha’s touch.

“Maybe.”

The kiss wasn’t anything frantic or passionate, it couldn’t be. It was so featherlight that their lips barely touched, but the way Natasha’s blood felt like it was on fire was enough to convince her that they did touch. She let Y/n lead, moving their lips in tandem and fiddling with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

Y/n pulled away, a soft smile on her slightly swollen lips setting Natasha’s heart a flutter. The ache in her cheek was hardly noticeable in that moment; she was too fixated on the redhead in front of her.

She leaned in again, chasing that high she wasn’t ready to come down from yet. But Natasha gently pushed her back, shaking her head softly.

“Y/n, we can’t. We shouldn’t be doing this, you know that.” Y/n’s coping mechanisms were unhealthy to say the least, and as much as it pained her, Natasha couldn’t support that. Clarity had hit her like a ton of bricks and guilt settled in the bottom of her stomach, leaving a nasty taste in her mouth.

What were they doing?

Natasha’s heart shattered as she watched Y/n retreat into herself, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth slightly. Her eyes were glossy but the tears refused to spill over. Every muscle in her body was rigid, almost as if she was scared that if she moved, the dam would break and everything would come flooding out. Y/n may be good at a lot of things, but emotional confrontation was not one of those things.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She lingered for a moment, just willing Natasha to speak, to take back her words. Maybe if she closed her eyes, those lips would be on hers again. Their Midas touch, concealing the ache in her heart for a few fleeting moments was all she wanted.

But when Natasha stayed silent, Y/n turned and left, leaving the makeshift ice pack abandoned on the side. She couldn’t stay and let herself fall apart anymore. Her heart had broken twice that night, but why did it hurt so much worse now? Why did Natasha, her maid, have a stronger grip on it than her husband?

#natasha romanoff #marvel #fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #wlw #angst #AU #forbidden love #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #rich wife aesthetic #natasha romanoff hot #black widow

[togrowoldinv]

Hugs

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Note: Not a formal fic, but a quick little thought about Natasha. Enjoy it!

The first time you hugged Natasha, it was just by accident, really. It was after a mission where things had gone not so perfectly.

You somehow got separated from the team for almost an hour. When you finally saw them again, you ran to them. Bypassing Steve and Tony, you ran into Natasha’s arms. Your weight against her caught her off guard but she eventually did wrap her arms around you.

You weren’t sure why you hugged her. It just felt instinctual.

The next time you hugged her it was at a Stark party. She noticed you had plenty to drink and offered to walk you back to your room. The two of you lingered by the door, feeling something more for each other. But it wasn’t the right time to make that move.

Natasha, instead, opted to hug you goodnight. Your memory of that moment is clear despite the state you were in. She felt warm against you and you tried to memorize the way she felt.

A few weeks later, Natasha asked you on a date. From that point on, your hugs with Natasha became more frequent. She would hug you in good times and bad, in crowded rooms or when it was just the two of you, and of course, anytime you asked for one.

Her arms are your favorite place to be. A shelter from every storm of life.

“Are you ready?” A velvety voice interrupts your thoughts.

“I think so,” you reply, standing and turning to see your soon to be wife by the door.

“Wow,” Natasha breathes out. “Look at you.”

“Look at me? Look at you,” you tell her.

Natasha smirks and reaches for your hand. She kisses the top of it before you join her in step. As you walk to your future together, you think back on all of the times you couldn’t even imagine this happening to you.

Everything changed when you fell in love with Natasha.

You exchange your vows and kiss to seal your future together. Before the reception that Tony refused to make a small occasion, you step into a room alone with Natasha.

She immediately pulls you into a hug. It feels so right to hug her as her wife. You hold onto each other tight.

“This is my favorite hug we’ve ever had,” you say.

“Me too, baby,” Natasha agrees.

You hug each other for what feels like an eternity, and that’s how long you want to spend with Natasha.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort #Natasha gives the best hugs #it’s true

[scarfacemarston]

Teacher!Natasha x Teacher!Reader Oneshot

For Lesbian Visibility Week! If you enjoyed this, please note and reblog! Feel free to send other prompts or requests! Prompt: The students come into your classroom complaining about Natasha as a teacher not knowing you're her wife. This is version 1. You sighed as you glanced at the digital clock on your computer. Damn. Your planning period was almost over, and you really needed to finish grading these essays. Soon, you would be back to teaching your high school history classes for the day. The period ended far too quickly as students began to file their way into the classroom, discussing this and that. You were so engrossed in your work that you were hardly paying attention until you heard “Ms. Romanoff” mentioned not once, not twice, but in a string of sentences. Oh boy. Ms. Romanoff was one of the more controversial teachers at the school known for her no-nonsense attitude, sternness and sarcasm , but she was also fair with a dry sense of humor. “Why did I take international politics as an elective? Oh, that’s right, I thought it would look good on my transcript!” One student said sarcastically. “She’s so nitpicky! I got an A-. AN A MINUS!” “Hers is the only class I don’t fall asleep in anymore. Not since….last time.” “She’s so strict even the Macklin brothers shut up.” “She’s terrifying. I heard she used to be an undercover agent in the CIA”. You smirked at that one. You should probably look into that rumor. “A spy? Shut-up, man. Who’s going to believe that?” “I heard she was a failed actress.” “I heard she voiced the Russian Siri.” “I heard she’s a rich heiress that lost all her cash.” “Look, guys, I don’t care. She just ripped our class to shreds.I just can’t right now. Nearly the entire class failed her last test. These test corrections are going to take all night.” “At least you’re allowed test corrections! We’re her AP class and the only way we can make up points is through a new essay.” “She’s scary. I swear” “I think she knows what I’m thinking and then that makes me think more and then she thinks what I’m thinking and that thinking makes my head hurt.” “I was ONE minute late to class and she gave me a late slip!” “One time my grandma called me in class, and she made me pick it up.” You shot a quick text to Natasha before the bell rang. Her classroom was two doors down from yours since you two were technically in the same department. Time to log off your grading program and begin class. You pulled out the binder with today’s lesson plans ready to begin. “Wow, you all are full of comments about Ms Romanoff today.” You said neutrally. “Miss Y/N, you don’t understand. She’s so ….uh, extra.” You withheld a smirk. Natasha wasn’t what you would call extra, but she was set in her ways.” “I don’t think she’s extra. I think she just has high standards.” You responded. One of the students rolled their eyes.

"Do you all talk about me like this when I'm not here?"

"Nooo Ms. Y/N, we would never!"

"Well, maybe you could extend the same courtesy to my wife next time," you said, withholding a laugh. The room fell silent. A pin could have dropped.

“Fuck” you heard someone say under their breath. “Language”, you chastised, but you couldn’t say you blamed them. You saw the students in various forms of awkward shuffling, a cough here or there or “Ummm” or “Uhh” as students tried to form sentences. “Wait, you’re married?” a student questioned before being glared at by the others. Your fourth period class was near silent for the rest of the period, with the students seemingly still in shock. One minute til the bell rang. You saw a flash of red hair out of the corner of your eye. Thirty seconds. Natasha knocked on the door. “Hey, you, we’re all ordering from Robert’s Deli for lunch. You want your usual or will you finally try something new?” Natasha teased. The class whipped their heads collectively towards the door. It was becoming harder not to laugh. Natasha narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on, Y/n?” “Oh, you’re scaring my class, dear!” You said, smiling widely. Natasha scoffed. “Dear, huh? Oh, so they found out, didn’t they? As if us entering the building together and leaving together in the same car wasn’t hint enough that we’re married.  Yeah, I might have scared a few of them. It was well deserved, trust me, Isn’t that right, Reynolds?” Jason Reynolds sank down into his seat, not meeting Natasha’s eyes. The bell rang. The students couldn’t scramble enough as they grabbed their bags and rushed past Natasha. You gave a small laugh as you finally met Natasha. “You’re a mean woman, you know that?” “Hey, you texted me, babe.” “It was great, not gonna lie. Sorry the “secret” is out.” “It’s not like we’re closeted, we’re simply professional. I’m surprised they didn’t figure it out sooner….or maybe I’m not.” Natasha muttered. Your stomach growled. “Alright, I’ll look up the menu. Find something new to try for once. Promise.” You said in response to your stomach. Natasha nodded. “Don’t want you to scare the next class because you’re hungry.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

End

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romonova #black widow #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you

[m0nsterqzzz]

(wife) Natasha Romanoff x reader

word count: 1.8 k

- Snow Day -

summary - snow days with your wife and kids

a/n - ahhhhhh i love snow and natasha.

-------------------------------------------------------

The moment Natasha jumps on top of you at 7am is the moment you decide to divorce her. 

Not seriously, but you did threaten to as she shook your body and practically screamed, “It’s snowing detka!” You opened one eye and sure enough, there was ice frost covering the outside of your bedroom windows and you could see snow covering the trees. 

“That’s nice honey. Now go back to bed.” She shakes her head, jumping off the bed and yelling as loud as she can- which is pretty fucking loud if you didn’t know-, “Kids! It’s snowing!”

Just like Natasha, your kids love the snow more than anything. Probably more than they love you. It's a few seconds before the cheering begins, and then your oldest sons come running into your room and jump onto the bed. “Wake up! Wake up!” Lev, the oldest, practically screams in your face, and then Andy- short for Anthony-, the middle child, lays his whole body weight on top of you. He’s fourteen years old, only two years younger than his older brother and eight years older than their little sister, but after years of working out with Natasha, he’s very strong and putting his whole body weight on top of you means basically cutting off your ability to breathe.

The sound of little footsteps entering the room makes you all stop, and Lena, your six year old daughter and youngest child, enters the room with her stuffed monkey in hand and crawls into the bed next to you. She loves the snow, but she also loves sleep just like you.

“Come here принцесса.” Lev mutters, grabbing his little sister from the bed and holding her in his arms. Her big brothers are her protectors, and if you and Natasha aren’t there to treat her like a princess, her brothers are.

“You wanna build a snowman little spider?” Andy asks, tickling her stomach as a method of waking her up. She giggles, a tired grin taking over her face as she looks out the window. “Snow day?” “Snow day Lena.” She nods, suddenly much more awake as she climbs out of his arms and back onto the bed. You think she's coming back to cuddle with you, but you should know by the devilish grin on her face- one very similar to your wifes- that is not true. She stands up on the bed, then lets her small body free fall onto yours. Was naming her after your sister in law (the one that totally did this shit to you a few months ago) a good idea? Probably not.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

And that's how you ended up gathering up all the scarfs in the house, which only turned out to be 4. Luckily, one of them was really long so you and Natasha can share it once you get outside. While the kids are in their rooms putting on thousands of layers, Natasha is in a tank top and leggings like she's about to go out on a run in the summertime. “Natalia. Where is your sweater? Sorry I meant, where are your sweaters? Plural because it’s fudging freezing outside.” 

She shrugs, continuing to make six cups of hot chocolate despite it being 7 in the morning. You chuckle. “The kids only need one cup each Nat.” She nods, looking down at the cups with a nervous smile. “I know…..three of these are for me.”

You grab a few sweaters for her, forcing her to put them on and then standing in front of her holding in a laugh at the now balloon shaped form of your wife. “You look um….you look amazing honey.” She can't see you considering the beanie going down to her nose and scarf up to about the same place but she can hear you searching through your pockets for your phone. “I know what you’re doing! Do I look stupid to you detka?”

“Yes….and this is going on the Avengers Christmas card.” You snap the photo, running away from her when she begins waddling towards you. 

You go stand out on the porch with her, waiting for your kids to come out and join you in the cold. Why they love the freezing temperatures will always be a mystery to you. When they come out, each kid is handed one cup of hot chocolate that they pull down their scarves to chug. They boy’s aren't too big as they’ve grown a lot over the years since you bought the pieces of fabric, but the new one you bought for Lena when winter season started is practically covering her whole head and Natasha has to pull it down in order to see the little girl's bright smile.

You take your seat at one of the rocking chairs you and your wife bought for your wrap around porch, piling several blankets over your lap and watching with a smile as the kids- that's including Natasha- run out into the chilly forest. When Lev was two years old and you had first adopted the few month old baby Andy, Natasha retired from her job as an Avenger and bought you and your kids a large piece of property and a big house. The land is filled with trees that kids spend evenings placing hide and seek in, and in the summer they go horseback riding with their mom. Natasha takes care of all the animals that live around the property and in the barn, and you spend days doing whatever you wish whether it's helping her or staying inside the house relaxing with the kids.

A snowball flies past your head, and you look up to glare at your wife. “Hey! Why are you looking at me? Look at them!” The redhead points to the kids, who stare at her bewilderment. “You know what? Fuck this.” You mutter, removing the blankets from your lap and running out into the snow. You form a snowball, hiding with your kids behind a stack of hay that Natasha left out the other day. Your wife was an Avenger, a spy, and a shield agent. That's all true. But you live with her. It’s not too hard to pick up on her habits. 

You can hear her crunchy footprints coming up behind the hay, but the kids have already formed even more snowballs so you hold up three fingers, slowly putting each on down until you have zero left. They all jump up, practically yelling war cries as they hit their mother with snowball after snowball. You take this chance to run into the forest nearby, hiding behind a tree with several snowballs in hand.

Once they run out of snowballs and the laughter dies down a bit, you sneak out from behind the tree and begin throwing the snow at the back of your wife. The children laugh, but she turns to you with a devil-like grin and you instantly know you’re in deep shit. “Okay Nat….Nat….our kids are watching. They can't see me go like this.” You dramatically tell her, only bringing more giggles out of your kids. 

“Get her mom!” Lev cheers, and your eyes widen as you look at him in mock offense. 

“Whose side are you on kid?” You ask. He shrugs, holding up another snowball and throwing it at Natasha's head.

“Neither. Every man for themselves!” He sprints into the forest, Andy close behind him and Lena standing out in the open with no snowballs in hand. 

Natasha grins at her, opening her arms for a hug. “Come here and give me a hug, little spider.” The six year old narrows her eyes at the Russian woman before sprinting after her brothers, but Natasha is already forming four snowballs when the little girl gets to the edge of the tree line.

You watch with a grimace as your wife throws each snowball at the back of the little girl, and the force of the snow makes Lena fall face first into a pile of coldness. You smack Natasha’s arm. “Natalia! She’s six years old!”

The redhead just laughs, turning her back to the forest as she grins at you. “She's my daughter. She can handle a couple snowballs to the face.” While she was defending letting her child get hypothermia, Lev and Andy were sneaking up behind her, each with a large pile of snow in their arms.

“Um….Nat-” You start with a giggle, but it's too late and the boys are lifting up the piles to drop them on top of her head. It breaks over her head, falling down in front and behind her like snow and leaving it all over her head and shoulders. “That was for Lena!” Andy yells and then they take back off to the forest, Natasha not far behind.

A few hours later, you watch as Natasha and the kids come back out of the forest, and then plop down in the snow with erratic breathing. You get up from your seat on the porch, walking onto the cold field and then laying down in it right next to your wife.

It's silent for a few minutes, but then the sound of shuffling begins. You look to your side to see Natasha moving her arms and legs, forming an angel looking shape in the snow. You all spread out a little before copying her movements. So that's what you guys do for like three minutes, before standing up and admiring your guy’s work. There are five different sized angels in the snow, the perfect replicas of you and your family.

“Mama. I’m cold.” With a small smile, Nat grabs her by her under arms and hoists her up on her shoulders. 

“I think that calls for more hot cocoa.” “Tasha-” You go to tell her that they’ve already had too much sugar and that Lena is practically shaking due to a sugar high, but she’s making her way into the house with the boys trailing behind her before you can say anything. You chuckle to yourself, following after them.

She’s already grabbing the packets of cocoa powder once you get inside, and the boys settle themselves on the couch as you snatch them from her. She groans, sending you her best pout. You've been married to her for a very long time though and rarely fall for that anymore. “No. They can have something else.” The redhead widens her eyes, trying to put on a puppy dog's face that has you laughing harder than you ever had.

“Fine.” You’re not going to tell her that the only reason you said yes is because Lena was doing the face too. The little girls were much cuter. They cheer, beginning to heat up some milk to put in the hot drink as you go sit down on the couch with your boys. 

Natasha and Lena join you guys, the older of the two sitting behind you on the couch so you can lay your back on her chest, and the boys let their little sister choose a movie which is why you end up watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas. Your wife isn’t focused on the movie though. She’s admiring you, how you chuckle at the funny parts as your eyes sparkle with joy.

Snow days are her favorite thing, but it’ll never compare to you.

-------------------------------------------------------

#natasha romanoff x you #marvel x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #the black widow #black widow x reader #snow day #marvel x you #marvel

[sytoran]

home is where the heart is ★ m.list

IN WHICH your married life with Natasha Romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. With your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (And ultimately, very horny.)

⋆⭒˚｡★ CONTENT !!

pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader

genre ★ no powers au, smut, fluff, crack, slight social media au

warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, irregular updates, specific warnings in each chapter

notes ★ this has been brewing in the back of my mind for the longest time, i just finally decided to put it down into words... hope yall like this just as much as my other fics, if not more!

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

⋆⭒˚｡★ PROFILES !!

001. the l/n-romanoff clan

⋆⭒˚｡★ CHAPTER INDEX !!

001. BENTLEYS & BLUEBALLS [3.1k]

natasha wakes you up with a pleasant surprise, your gremlin kids are the life and death of you, tony stark is annoying, marital sexting is pretty tough, and you're homesick for your wife's pussy.

002. SURFBOARDS & SOURDOUGH [4.0k]

twitter's sole purpose is for you to thirst over your wife, the beach is a good place to spend time with your kids, and ogle at your wife in a bathing suit, but not a great a place to have sex. (lesson learnt).

003. THICK THIGHS & THEATRE [wip]

marina gets into trouble at school, you're one second away from punching a suburban mom, natasha is the calmer parent, you satiate your murderous desire between her thighs, and movie nights!!

LOADING...

© 𝐒𝐘𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍 2024 ━ do not copy, edit or translate my works

#⋆⭒˚｡★ home is where the heart is #masterlist #series masterlist #sytoran's big list of things #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader smut #gxg smut #wlw smut #marvel smut #natasha x reader smut #natasha x you #natasha romanoff imagine #sub natasha romanoff #bottom natasha romanoff #top reader #dom reader

[wandanatrules]

My Obedient Little Wife

word count- 1.4k

pairing- dom beefy g!p nat x subby fem reader

summary - Natasha has just made you her wife and she is going to take her time worshipping you

warnings- smut, oral (both receiving), dirty talk, foul language, penetration, humping

note - thank you guys for all the support on my fics! I appreciate those of you who are sending requests. I am going to start working on those asap! please keep sending them in. I am also very grateful for those who message me. I love when you guys talk to me and ask me questions! Please read and interact with all my other fics and I hope you enjoy this one!

“Are you gonna take me to bed Natty?” You asked, looking up at her with those signature doe eyes and the sexy lip biting.

She was carrying you bridal style down the hall of the hotel you were staying at tonight, before you leave for your honeymoon the next morning. Since you had just had your well anticipated wedding, you were ready to finally consummate your marriage and let her claim you as her wife.

“Of course I am Mrs. Romanoff.” She said looking down at you with a smirk before pecking your lips. As soon as she arrived at the hotel room, she quickly unlocked the door eager to get her hands on you. 

“You have been teasing me all day, baby girl.” She said throwing you on the king sized bed. “Walking down the aisle to be my wife, and then changing into this tight little dress to grind all on me in front of our family at the reception. You are driving me crazy.” 

You sat on your knees on the bed looking up into her lust filled eyes. Feeling the need to touch her, you reached up to grope her chest, using one hand to try and unbutton her shirt. Growing frustrated, you used both hands to just pop the shirt open, buttons flying everywhere, finally getting a look at her chiseled abs, before finally getting her aching bulge in your hand. 

“Baby, now you are my bride and I need to worship you, enough about me.” She said moving your hands away, and unzipping your dress. She lifted you up to pull it off completely. She kissed you on your plump lips, much like she did earlier on the altar, making out with you for a little bit, before moving south to your neck. 

“I need everyone to know that you are mine and that I own you.” She growled out between the bruises she was leaving on your chest and the trail leading between the valley of your breasts, aiming to leave more love bites there.

“We need to get this off, so I can see these beautiful tits.” Her hand expertly reached behind you and unclipped your bra, letting it fall off and freeing your perky breasts. “Uggh baby, I will never get over how good you look. These plump tits are all for me.” At this point she was laying on your chest with your tits in her mouth, truly relishing the beauty of these attributes. She felt your breath hitch as she slowly bites the hardened bud, before smoothing over it with her tongue. 

“Please nat, I need you.” You begged, pushing her head down to the place that you desperately needed it. 

“Baby don’t rush, we have the rest of our lives together and tonight I want to take my time with you. She pushed you back down onto the bed, continuing her trail of bruises down your stomach stopping when she got to your pantyclad core.  

“Please natty, please I need you.” You whined, rubbing your thighs together to try and ease the ache. 

“Now little girl.” She said before ripping your thighs apart, “I was excited to have an obedient little wife, but I guess i’m going to have to teach you.” 

She kissed your hips and between your thighs before noticing the wet spot on your white lacy panties, She put her nose on the spot, breathing in your scent before pushing her thumb down onto your clit through the panties. You writhed in pleasure finally feeling her where you need her the most. 

She took the string of your panties between her teeth slowly pulling them down your thighs, until she got them off you completely and put them in the pocket of her suit pants.

Leaning down she stuck out her tongue flattening it before licking a stripe down your cunt. She smiled at the taste, not being able to get enough. “Oh my god baby girl, my wife tastes delicious.” She said licking her lips in satisfaction.

Diving in once again, she starts to eat you out like she’s been starved for a year. She harshly grips your hips and circles your puffy clit with her tongue. You buck your hips up trying to get more of her. She pushes you down and holds you there before picking up the pace, with her assault on your clit. She licks your cunt up and down, before sticking her tongue into your tight hole, fucking you slowly. You feel your breath start to hitch and your thighs start to twitch. You and your wife both knew you were close, so she removed her tongue from your cunt and entered two of her fingers, while going back to licking your clit. 

After her tirelessly eating your pussy, you were finally to your breaking point. You felt the knot in your stomach unravel and you squirted. Nat removed her fingers from your cunt and used two fingers to quickly rub your pussy, to elongate your orgasm. She stuck her tongue out and tried to catch some of your cum, moaning at the taste. 

“My goodness baby, you’re so messy. Look at you squirting all over me, showing off your drooling cunt.” She said flipping you over onto your hands and knees, making you squeal out of surprise. 

“Seeing you like this has made me so hard baby, I just need to fuck my wife’s pussy in order to feel better.” She said before licking the cum off your cunt from behind to clean you up. She then pulled off her belt before stripping off her pants and boxers, leaving you both completely naked. 

She quickly entered into your dripping hole, your tightness squeezing her deliciously. She was already so worked up from eating you out she could’ve cum already, but lucky for you her stamina was incredible. She picked up her pace, fucking you from behind. She focused her attention on your tight ass, rubbing and fondling your cheeks, while you pushed back onto her cock. 

You were panting like a bitch in heat, as she continued to fuck you. You turned your head around to face her looking at how good she looked pounding into you. You pucker your lips signaling your need for a kiss. She leaned forward to kiss you, sloppily making out as you strained your neck. Her hands traveled up to cup your breasts and tweak your nipples.

She picked up the pace, feeling you getting closer as your cunt squeezed her aching prick. You felt her big dick in your intestines, as she pushed on the bulge appearing in your stomach. 

The knot in your stomach unraveled for the second time tonight, leaving you to cream all over her cock. She guided your hips backwards to help you through your orgasm and put her over the edge. 

“Dammit baby this pussy is so tight, it’s like it was made for me.” She said, slapping your ass and pulling you back deeper, using you as her own personal sex toy. This was enough to send her over the edge, and blow in your cunt. Her hot, wet stream of semen had traveled down your insides and filled your belly.  

You got up and turned around, both of you kneeling in front of each other. You looked into her eyes before leaning down to put her penis in your mouth. You sucked on the head before licking the shaft up and down to clean off your shared arousal. She sucked in a breath, still sensitive from her previous orgasm. She grabbed you by the hair holding you there so she could thrust her hips up into your mouth while you gagged on her.

This was one of the most beautiful sights for her to see, so it didn’t take much for her to cum again. Another hot, wet stream of cum sliding down your throat, as you swallowed every thing she gave you. She then pulled you off of her and up by the hair to kiss you again. When the kiss grew heated, you took charge and pushed her back on the bed, straddling her waist. Your clit sat on her dick and you roughly grinded on her while making out. Your tongue entered her mouth as she sucked on it. You were panting in her mouth as you wildly humped her. 

“Baby, if we don’t slow down I'm afraid we are gonna have a honeymoon baby.” 

#natasha romanoff smut #beefy!nat #black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff smut #wandanat #fanfic #wanda maximoff fluff

[munariplans]

a second chance | natasha r.

synopsis: in which natasha is given a second chance; a chance encounter with clint's children that sparks her wish to start a family with you.

natasha romanoff x spidey! reader

word count: 4k words

a/n: welcome to my last fic of 2023! thank you all for spending this wonderful year with me, and i wish for a happy, safe year for all of you in 2024. of course, to end off the year, we go back to our favourite spidey!reader and natasha duo. in other words, this fic was the conversation and experience that led up to is there someone else? enjoy x

masterlist

natasha romanoff liked to claim that she wasn’t good with children; she didn’t like them, they didn’t like her, and she did not have the faintest idea of how to take care of one, not to even mention having them in her life. once, the team had rescued a stranded child from the rubble of an explosion, and when steve asked if anyone was willing to look after her until emergency services arrived, natasha ducked to your side when his eyes landed on her, reluctantly shaking her head as the child looked to her curiously. 

but as her wife, you were amazing with children. and in that instance, seeing the exasperated looks on the others’ faces, and the frantic one on natasha’s, you had bravely stepped up to take the child from steve, being careful not to stand too close to natasha in case she freaked out. 

she watched as you sat the child on your lap, taking off your mask and letting her see your face. she smiled when you did, wiping off the blood and soot from her face as comfortingly as you could. you held her hand as you rocked her gently, trying to help her forget about the broken arm you were supporting with your other hand. there were no words exchanged between you and the child, she hadn’t cried at all, and for some reason, she looked almost calmer with you. but natasha knew you were a comforting presence in anyone’s life, not just hers, so it was only natural that the child wasn’t freaking out from her injuries in front of you. it also helped that you had let her put on your mask then, you cooing as you reminded her just how brave she was. 

natasha didn’t have good memories of children from the red room; she had spent far too many years suppressing the harrowing scenes of girls younger than her getting tortured and trained to be widows. she never knew children who were happy, or had good childhoods that allowed them to be free – hell, even she didn’t have that when she was a child. 

but seeing you so relaxed, and natural, with the child, tugged at her heartstrings more than it should. you were everything she never was, and each time natasha thought there were reasons that you were too good for her, you somehow manage to convince her there were a million more of why she wasn’t worthy of being married to someone so wonderful. 

she allowed herself to slowly approach you. and while you picked up that she was hesitant, you let her gather her own courage, and as she stood in front of you and the child, you leaned in and whispered, “that’s aunty natasha. she was the one who found you, you know? alerted me and uncle bruce over there, to help pull you out. she’s so pretty, and incredible, isn’t she?”

natasha wasn’t sure the girl even understood what you were saying, but the small smile that the child offered, and her eyes looking up at natasha’s own, had the woman transfixed. she didn’t know what to do, but you patted the spot beside you, and gestured for her to sit.

“do you want to say hi?” you asked natasha, to which she nodded. 

“hi, i’m…natasha,” she said to the child, but she had returned to playing with your mask. it was almost as if the child hadn’t noticed her at all; not the people she had murdered in this mission to save her, not the souls she tortured to get information out of, not even all that she had done in the red room to get to where she was today. she had seen natasha as she was; a woman who had saved her from the rubble, and returned to her newfound obsession over the piece of cloth. she was a child, seeing natasha as a person, which somehow was hard for her to digest. 

you let the girl keep your mask as emergency services arrived a few minutes later, holding natasha by your side as they shut the doors to the ambulance, mouthing you’re so brave even as the paramedics began assessing her. natasha was transfixed at the child grinning back at not just you, but her too. her grin had been toothy, and real. 

“you’re incredible,” your wife would comment later on, to which you shrugged.

“the little girl was an angel,” you said, then, noticing her hesitation, you leaned in to kiss her forehead, “and you were amazing. she liked you, i just knew it.”

“you really think so?” natasha’s voice suddenly turned insecure, but hopeful.

you nodded against her skin. “i know so.”

– 

the next time natasha had an encounter with a child, it was on a whole other level that she was unprepared for, and hesitant of. but she didn’t really have a choice this time. 

laura had run into some complications with her pregnancy with nathaniel, and clint was lost, and exasperated, of what to do. he needed to be by his wife’s side, but his two young children needed him too. and because of the urgency of the situation, he didn’t have enough time to hire a babysitter on such short notice. 

you caught him mid-meltdown in the common room, but the rest of the team were preparing to go on missions and didn’t have proper spaces to care for the kids for a few days. natasha was beside you then; the both of you had returned from a date in the park, and you knew she was as concerned for him just as you were. 

but you weren’t about to suggest taking the kids in just right there; natasha lived with you too, and if she wasn’t comfortable with suddenly having cooper and lila intrude into her living space, especially with her reservations about children, you knew it wasn’t something you could do without running by her.

you fished out your phone, remarking to natasha, “i should call a few of my friends, see if they can take the two in for a few nights.”

but natasha hadn’t let go of your hand. she was still frowning at clint’s state, trying desperately to beg his wife that he would be there in a few hours, and struggling to think about how he was going to juggle the kids and her. he was at his wits’ end, and natasha hated seeing her friend like this. 

suddenly, you felt her grip onto your coat, whispering lowly, “...why don’t we take them in?”

you looked away from your phone for a minute, still reeling in what your wife just said. natasha had told you, when you were still friends even, of just her reservations around children, and how much she didn’t want them even if she had the chance, so you understood. you understood, and respected her wishes, and although she knew you loved kids, you never pushed her on the subject further. you were always supportive and respectful of why she didn’t want them and couldn’t be with them. 

you almost couldn’t believe your ears. “what?”

“we take them in, just for a few nights. cooper and lila.” she tried to say nonchalantly, but you knew it was taking all of her willpower to even utter it to you. 

“are you sure?”

“clint’s in so much distress. our next mission hasn’t been assigned, and we can’t possibly not help him…as his friends.”

“but nat, if you’re not comfortable around them, we don’t have to, you know? i know…you have your reservations.”

but she held your hand, firmly, this time. “i know. but we can’t not help clint when he needs us. unless…you don’t want to?”

you shook your head, “of course i want to. i was just…i was afraid you didn’t, so i didn’t offer.”

“well,” she gave a small smile, “there’s a first for everything.” 

clint hugged the both of you like a grizzly bear as words of appreciation tumbled out of his mouth when you told him of the offer. natasha thought he looked like he was going to cry. 

–

while cooper was considerably an older toddler, baby lila was only about a year old. natasha remembered their birthdays. she remembered laura had been pregnant when you and clint first rescued her, which explained a lot of his agitation and desperation to return home safely. 

you walked in the door first, holding lila as she slept in your arms, while cooper was holding the ends of natasha’s jacket when he followed her in. she had stiffened when he first held her hand, and she cringed when he noticed; putting his hand on her jacket instead. you reassured her it was fine, and that if he hadn’t made a big deal out of it, she shouldn’t overthink it either. 

it was almost dinner time when the four of you arrived in yours and natasha’s apartment. the two of you had spent the better part of the morning and afternoon baby-proofing the place before picking them up. natasha had never known so many parts of the house had been so hazardous to baby lila, as she carefully checked and rechecked the apartment’s hazards. you watched her lovingly throughout her doing so, and getting yelled at by her when she found you accidentally leaving a power socket unplugged.

“what should we have for dinner?” natasha asked, to which you pulled up a list of recipes laura usually made for them. natasha took one look at them, and turned her nose, “those sound gross.”

you laughed, but began gathering ingredients anyway. “well, it’s what those two would have wanted.”

“how about we just order a pizza instead?” natasha quipped, to cooper’s delight. he had overheard the conversation, and began chanting pizza, pizza, pizza immediately after. 

you shared a glance with natasha, before telling him, “oh, your mommy said we can’t have–”

“–pizza, pizza pizza!” natasha suddenly joined in, standing beside him as the both of them gave you pouts and puppy dog eyes, and you knew you were at a losing end for this one. 

you ordered the pizza, and whispered to natasha later, when cooper was out of earshot, “you are such an enabler.”

“i give the kids what they want.”

you had to remind cooper very carefully to not tell clint and laura of just what he had been eating at your place when they got back. he only half-listened, busy tucking into the pieces of pizza natasha had carefully cut into equal, smaller squares for him. 

–

natasha stood by the bathroom door as you gave cooper his bath later on, cursing internally to yourself as he continually splashed you with the soapy bathwater. she laughed along with him as you blew shampoo out of your mouth for the fourth time in the span of ten minutes. 

“cooper, i will summon a giant shark to bite your soapy fins if you splash me one more time!” you had threatened, but the boy, upon seeing natasha’s giant grin behind him, had only laughed and splashed you once again. 

you shot a glare to natasha, but she only shrugged and gave you an amused smirk. she was so thankful that she had peeped in to see just how you were doing, despite being hesitant of giving the kids baths at first. 

you had assured her that it was fine, and that you didn’t want to overstep her boundaries, but natasha was struck with a curiosity and eagerness to know just how it would go. you certainly didn’t complain. 

seeing just how much fun you had with cooper, she volunteered to help with lila’s bath later on, much to your relief. you carefully taught her how to bathe the baby then, ensuring her head never dipped too deep into the water, and natasha held the girl with the fragility and care that she had for the tesseract back then. you found it difficult to stay irritated at her for long, not when she was so earnest in trying to not be stiff, and as natural as possible, bathing little lila. 

you thought she got just the reward for her efforts as the baby laughed at her antics, awarding her with a wide smile and minimal reluctance in being dressed for bed later on. 

– 

the next morning, when natasha opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was that the space next to her was empty. she let her hand roam over the cold sheets, and groaned when she realised that she had slept in. you were already busy with the kids downstairs. 

rubbing her eyes and making her way down, she finally spotted you in the kitchen with clint’s children. you had pulled up a chair for cooper to stand beside you, and lila was rested on your hips while you carried her. you were busy instructing the boy to carefully ladle pancake mixture onto the stove. 

“okay, careful, steady, now. don’t ladle too much, or the inside’s going to be uncooked,” you held his hand as he poured the mixture in, giggling at the consistency and sight of the pancakes. natasha knew clint would have never allowed his kids near the stove. 

cooper watched intently as you flipped the pancakes for him a few minutes later, pointing to his baby sister at the magnificent contraption that was a frying pan. lila had her mouth agape watching your antics. the baby looked absolutely enamoured by you. from above, natasha supposed she wasn’t so different. 

she wrapped her arms around you as she approached, and you greeted her good morning with a kiss. she would never tire of the feeling of your lips against hers.

the four of you sat down for breakfast later on, and in the belief of her abilities and newfound adoration for the child, natasha volunteered to sit beside lila to feed her. the girl was more than happy to slam her hands on the baby chair and squash and smash the pancakes with her grubby fingers. you and natasha exchanged laughs watching her so. 

“she’s really so cute, isn’t she?” you remarked. natasha nodded, feeding the girl some of her porridge. 

“they’re both so cute. angels.”

you watched her patiently wait for lila to open her mouth, instructing her to sip the porridge slowly, and you thought she looked almost like a natural. in the oversized shirt that was yours, her hair tied up in a bun, face free of makeup, natasha looked so beautiful feeding the child. naturally so, like the role was made just for her. 

you couldn’t help taking out your phone, and snapping a quick photo of her and lila then. you could almost kiss the screen with how lovely she looked. 

–

“go and have some me-time for a bit, i’ll take the kids for a grocery run,” you mentioned to natasha later that day, as the both of you cleaned up while the kids napped. 

she paused for a minute, and you continued, “i know how hard this can be for you. and i figured a nice change of scenery for the kids would be good. a fun trip to the supermarket.”

“are you sure? i can help with the kids too, you know? this should be teamwork.”

“i’m fine, i can handle it. you need to rest, i don’t want to overload you with so much of them. we should take these things slow. have a bath, go to the gym, whatever you want to do. i’ve got them.”

with soapy hands and the dishes thrown into the sink, natasha pulled you down for a kiss, murmuring, “i love you, i love you so much.”

you giggled as you embraced her back. 

–

however, at the supermarket, you quickly realised that you were a sucker for cooper’s puppy dog eyes; you could never say no to him when he flaunted them. you gave in, first to a pack of cookies, then a box of chocolates, by the time he had shown them to you again while clutching a tub of ice cream, you knew that he had you wrapped right around his finger. 

you scooped him up then, threatening to bite his cheeks. “i am going to get into so much trouble with your daddy. please, please, pick between the cookies or that, sweetheart.”

he pouted, but you shook your head desperately, “please, don’t pull that on me. you know you’ll win.”

you ended up spending more time than necessary convincing the boy to pick just two of his favourites, with a deal that lila got to pick her own snacks. you tried to tell him that she was too young to do so, but his sister had his back; and he ended up getting the ice cream anyway. 

and at the cashier line, you spotted the flowers section, and made a quick detour for them.

“i have a mission for you both. we’re going to pick the nicest, prettiest flowers for aunty nat, okay?”

it was lila’s turn to use her expertise, as you let her get her hands on any flowers she wanted for herself, and flowers that she could pick for natasha. there was a serious discussion between the kids, until they ultimately decided on getting pink roses for your wife. 

you had to once again beg cooper not to tell his parents of just what you allowed him to buy at the store, while lila happily helped to hold on to the flowers in her baby seat in the car. 

– 

“aunty natttt!” natasha was more than happy to oblige coming down the stairs, seeing your car pull into the parking lots from the window. 

freshly showered and energised from the gym, natasha suddenly felt her heart melt into a lovesick puddle as cooper rushed towards her, holding the bouquet of roses that covered nearly his whole face. “we picked this for you!”

“oh my,” she breathed, accepting it gratefully as she made eye contact with you. if there were a million universes, she wished she was married to you in all of them. 

you sheepishly came to her, putting lila down and letting her return to her toys. “hi, we’re home.”

the flowers were crushed in between your bodies as she pulled you in, kissing your lips until they were almost going to bruise. you chuckled, helping her find a vase for them after. “thought it was a nice gesture. they picked the pink roses.”

“you know that i love you so much, right?” she asked seriously, head on your shoulder as you carefully placed the flowers in the vase. she almost never wanted to let you go. “you’re so good to me.”

“just what you deserve.”

– 

natasha was almost heartbroken to have to say goodbye to the kids after the three nights they spent in your home; something she would never have said just a few months ago. they had changed her, and her perspective on what she saw were fragile, tortured souls, for so long. natasha never knew children could ever be so innocent and carefree. she never knew she could be so carefree and loving to them either, not until you showed her of just how happy they could make a home be. 

you had to go on a mission the following day, so the two of you spent the rest of the day in bed, relishing in each other’s presence before you would be separated for a little while. 

she rolled over in your arms when your phone rang, and the sight that greeted her made her stomach whirl. your wallpaper was the one of her and lila, the morning where you made breakfast for all of them. natasha could almost agree the ease and love she had for the child was unbridled and pure, evident in the photo of it then. 

“darling…” she drawled, hiding her face in your neck. it had been playing in the back of her mind, moving to the tip of her tongue then. the photo just confirmed everything she had always known. you had changed her, mind, body and soul. 

“yes, nat?” 

suddenly, it wasn’t so suffocating, or difficult to say, “let’s have kids too.”

there was a hitch in your breathing, hesitation for a minute, and natasha wondered if she had said the wrong thing, if she had overestimated your love for children, if it was a mistake confessing that at all. she even thought, for a moment, that it would cause a rift in your relationship, and whether it was stupid to have said anything at all.

but then, your arms wrapped around her even tighter, as you brought her to face you. “...are you saying…?”

“they’re not so bad, cooper and lila, and all those other ones we’ve been around,” she confessed, “and i look at you, and i can’t think of anyone else more fitting to be a parent. especially a parent by my side. i’m ready to have children with you, and i want to carry them. for the rest of my life too.”

she felt hot, happy tears against her skin, as you sniffled and tried to hide your tears of joy. she smiled at you, letting her thumb graze over your skin. “i love you, and i want to share the rest of my life with you. but i think our lives will be even better if we can share it with our children, too.”

you nodded. at that point, you would have done anything natasha could ever want. “i think so too. but natasha, i want you to be absolutely sure of this, because…”

“...and i am. i am absolutely sure.” but she looked away sadly suddenly, swallowing her own tears. “i just–it’s difficult to even speak of it when i’m…when i can’t have them for you. not after what the red room did.”

it was your turn to wipe her tears, rolling over so you were on top, reassuring her, “in the morning, i promise, i swear on my life, that i will find a solution. tony and i…we had a discussion once. about letting the widows have a second chance. about giving them the freedom of choice to have a family. we even asked bruce about the possibility of a reverse hysterectomy.”

“and you stopped? the idea from going further?”

“well, i didn’t want to freak you out. you told me you didn’t want kids, and i thought bringing up the subject would make you uncomfortable,” you confessed, “though, now i wished we had started earlier.”

natasha thought for a moment, before, “i’ll do it.”

“hmm?”

“i’ll be your test subject, i’ll do it, if you and tony ever do it. i want to be the one to carry, and give you kids, baby. this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for us. and if there’s anyone that is able to do it, it’s you, tony, and bruce. no others i would trust with my life, and my body, more.”

natasha saw just the love and adoration in your eyes, and for once, she finally believed that she was so deserving of that love. she finally saw just how important, and loved she was, looking into your eyes, and the warmth that surged through her system made her want to curl even further into you and be in your embrace forever. 

“i love you so much, natasha romanoff,” you muttered, “my wife, the mother of my children.”

she giggled into your skin, sitting up for a minute to feel your lips against hers. this time, the salty tears from both of your eyes only made the kisses even sweeter, even more lovely. she thanked clint and laura for giving her the opportunity to experience being a parent, tony and bruce for thinking of her so lovingly to want to give her a second chance at being a mother, and her lucky stars for you. 

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel cinematic universe #natasha romanoff x spidey!reader

[yelenasdiary]

The Perfect Surprise

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Pregnant! Reader

Summary: Wanda and Maria surprises you with a baby shower with Nat having an extra surprise

Translations: Detka (baby),

Warnings: Slight Language Warning, Pregnancy Talk | 0.9K

AC: As always, I have used a random generator to pick the baby’s gender! I hope you enjoy this x

Waking up to the gentle soft hand of your wife rubbing your baby bump was something you quickly grew to love, every morning when Natasha would get back from the gym, she would whisper sweet things to your unborn baby which eventually would wake you. You couldn't help but smile softly as you watched her hand move up and down your stomach with care. 

"Good morning darling" Natasha whispered before placing a kiss on your cheek, "Are you ready for today?" she asked. You nodded. Yesterday Maria and Wanda had told you that they planned a baby shower for you and Natasha. "Are you ready for today?" You asked Nat knowing she hated having attention put on her. She chuckled with a nod, "I also have a surprise for you today" she replied.

You tilted your head slightly, "is that so?" You questioned. 

Natasha had this planned for a while, but she wasn't sure how to go about delivering the surprise so when Wanda and Maria came to her four days ago and poked her about the baby shower, she decided to give the women the scrap of torn paper the doctor gave her months ago, she never looked at it no matter how much it tempered her. 

You didn't want to know the gender of your baby unless Nat wanted too so when she said she wanted to wait, you believed her. Little did you know, she had the doctor write the gender down and she's been carrying it in her purse since. She told Wanda and Maria to get creative as the gender would be a surprise for the both of you. 

"What do you have planned?" You questioned when Nat just smirked and placed a kiss on your baby bump. "You'll find out later today" she said softly before pushing herself off the bed and walking into the bathroom. 

----

Everybody from the Avengers to your friends and family were gathered outside at the back of the compound looking over the city of New York. Plenty of laughter and chatter filled the air as you took some time to talk to everybody who had come up to you and Natasha, congratulating you both on the next chapter of your lives. 

The outdoor entertainment area was decorated with plenty of blues, pinks, yellows, greens and other gender-natural-colored items, a large board was placed near the sweet candy treats for guests to write their guesses down for what you and Nat might call the baby, the length, weight and gender and whoever would get the closest to the correct answer would win a $50 online gift card once the baby was born. 

"I sure hope there isn't a knife in that box Yelena" you chucked as you watched Yelena place the gift on the table among the other gifts, "do you think so low of me? To give my niece of nephew a knife to welcome them into this world?" the blonde replied as she came up and gave you a hug. 

"It's debatable" you chuckled. 

"Don't worry, I made sure it wasn't a real knife" Kate inserted herself, reaching in for a hug and congratulating you. Yelena playfully rolled her eyes before listening to the small talk shared between you, Kate and Natasha. 

Wanda came out carrying a rather large cake that caught your eye, watching as she placed it in the center of the table full of finger food. It was rounded, one half blue and the other half pink with a red hourglass symbol in the middle with the words "Super-She or Super-He?" On top. 

"Surprise" Natasha whispered as she gently rubbed your baby bump from behind. 

"I thought you said you wanted to wait" you turned to her. 

"I know but we literally can't set up the nursery without knowing, it's driving you crazy" the redhead admitted. Playfully, you slapped your wife's hand, "I think I've been doing great with all the gender neutral items and colours" you replied but you couldn't deny that you were just as curious and excited to know the gender as much as Nat. 

Natasha just shook her head and placed a kiss on your cheek before the two of you continued to talk with guests until Wanda got everybody's attention. "Nat, Y/n, we hope that this next chapter of your lives is everything you expect and more. Not only is your beautiful baby already so loved by the two of you, but they're loved by everybody here today. I'm not going to drag this on because I know you're eager to know little widow's gender but also because Steve is sweating that he's not giving a speech" Wanda said causing everybody to laugh at her fun at Steve who just shook his head. 

"Both of you take a knife and cut into a side of the cake each" Wanda added. Excitement made your hands slightly shake as you brought the silver knife to the blue side of the cake, Nat's knife hovering over the pink side. 

"Ready?" Nat looked at you with her famous smirk. You nodded, "on 3?" You asked. 

"Always"

On 3 you and Nat cut into the cake, slowly Natasha pulled out her slice to relief the cake's red valet color while you slowly pulled out your slice to a blue color. "Congratulations guys!!!" Kate bursts with joy as Natasha pulls you in for a deep kiss, smiling against your lips, "we're having a boy!" You whispered, letting the news sink in. Everybody applauded and congratulated you both with the news. 

"You owe me $20" Natasha chuckled, reminding you of the bet the two of you made during your second trimester. You rolled your eyes playfully before kissing her once more, "I love you so much" you whispered. Tears of happiness filling your eyes only for Nat to wipe away, "not near as much as I love you detka" she whispered in reply.

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#fanfiction #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #black widow

[nataliasquote]

Double the trouble | new families | n romanoff

Summary: the twins take a trip to meet new family members, but it doesn’t go as smoothly as Natasha wanted

Warnings: cute Mama Nat content

wc: 4.4k

Pairings: WandaNat

Note: I’m not a WandaNat stan, it’s never been my first choice of ship, so tbh I’m still questioning how I ended up with this pairing in this series. Which is why I focus so heavily on Natasha’s relationship with the twins, because it’s something I’m used to writing. Hopefully that clears up why my writing is so imbalanced x

-⧗-

Natasha would be lying if she said that the thought of what was coming today hadn’t kept her awake for most of the night. Wanda slept soundly by her side, unaware of the anxiety coursing through her wife’s body. The older redhead kept her eyes glued to the bedroom door, expecting one if not both toddlers to come running in in the middle of the night as monsters plagued their dreams. But it wasn’t weirdly quiet, which didn’t help to settle Natasha.

It was barely 5:30am by the time she had pulled herself out of bed and padded down to the kitchen, careful not to make any noise past the twins’ rooms. The sun had began to rise as she poured the first of many mugs of coffee, so Natasha wandered out onto the patio and sank onto one of the damp chairs that sat there. She loved the stillness of the morning, a start contrast to the usual chaos of her life. The air was crisp and fresh and just smelled like summer. Her favourite season.

A familiar set of footsteps echoed through the empty kitchen and Natasha smiled, looking over her shoulder just as her wife stepped through the patio doors. Wanda was definitely still half asleep, her hair mussed up from tossing and turning but she still looked as beautiful as ever. She carefully leaned down to give Natasha a kiss before looking out across the view their garden gave them. The house sat on the side of a hill, with the bustling city coming alive beneath them. They loved their location and wouldn’t change it for the world.

“How are you feeling about today?” Wanda asked, settling in the chair across from Nat as the cold stone beneath her feet started to get uncomfortable.

“I don’t know.” Natasha stared into the dark depths of her coffee, her eyes glazing over as she got lost in her thoughts. “That’s what scares me.”

Wanda softly touched her hand across the table. “The girls will be fine. Yelena will love them, as will Melina.”

“They’re not who I’m worried about.” Alexei had the biggest mouth and Natasha couldn’t shake the feeling that he would traumatise her babies. Especially Y/n, who had been really wary about guys recently.

“We can handle him, he won’t hurt them. He’s harmless Nat, except for when he talks. But you’ve got ground rules and Melina knows them, so I know she’s just as anxious as you are that he makes a good impression.”

Natasha just nodded but nibbled on her lip, not fully convinced. Motherhood was her favourite thing in the world, but it sure did attack her nerves and leave them frayed.

“Why don’t you go and wake the babies and I’ll start on breakfast. They can’t sleep for too long otherwise the drive will be hell.” A 7 hour drive with two 3.5 year olds… sounds like so much fun.

Wanda disappeared into the kitchen to get ingredients for breakfast whilst Natasha slowly made her way upstairs. By the layout of the house, the door to Y/n’s room was first. The twins’ rooms were conjoined but separated by a door, allowing them to have their own space.

The hallway light lit the way to Y/n’s bed and Natasha crouched down beside her youngest, stroking her messy curls out of her face as she slept. Despite having Natasha’s hair and eyes, the twins’ nose was definitely Wanda’s, and was Natasha’s favourite thing. Y/n’s tiny lips were parted and she slept peacefully, unaware of her Mama’s presence.

“Y/n, time to wake up sweetheart,” Nat said in her softest voice. She rubbed her daughter’s arm and smiled as the little girl frowned, her whole face screwing up. A small yawn escaped from her as she turned to face the one who disturbed her sleep, but all hard feelings vanished as she came face to face with her admittedly favourite parent.

“Mama,” she mumbled, reaching out with heavy arms. Natasha almost melted at the sight and gently scooped her up, the dead weight of her daughter making the task very inelegant. Almost immediately, Y/n snuggled into her neck and closed her eyes, falling back asleep in the comfort of Natasha’s arms.

Nat kept a strong hold on her before she pushed open the door to Isla’s room, surprised to see the little girl sat up in her bed. She’s clearly heard the noise next door.

“Mama,” was her response, her princess pyjama-covered body flinging itself out of bed and stumbling over to Nat to attach to her legs. “Wakey time?”

“It is wakey time, baby.” Isla’s curls were equally as messy as Y/n’s were, so Natasha didn’t even bother to smooth them down. “How did you sleep?”

“Good. Mr E kept me safe from the monsters.” Mr E was Isla’s stuffed elephant that she’d had since she was a baby. It was a little worn out but she slept with it every single night without fail. An adorable sight.

“He’s doing his job, I see.” Isla toddled over to free him from her tangled covers. “You hungry baby? I think mommy is making pancakes.”

“Pancapes?”

“Let’s go see.” With Y/n still fast asleep against her chest and Isla clutching onto her other hand, it was a miracle Natasha didn’t tumble down the stairs. She was very much relieved when Isla went running over to Wanda and Nat was able to hold Y/n with two arms.

“Don’t tell me she fell asleep again?” Wanda said with a laugh, helping Isla carry her sippy cup over to the table. She settled her toddler into her high chair and kissed her cheeks lovingly.

“Of course she did!” Natasha was leaning against the back of her chair with Y/n curled up in her lap, chest rising and falling almost in sync with Natasha’s heartbeat. “I don’t know if she slept well.”

“Is it mean to say I hope she didn’t?” Wanda asked, adding a ladle of pancake batter to her pan. “Would make our lives certainly a lot easier.”

“Mommy, pancapes please!” Isla announced, drumming her little fists against her plastic tray table. She kicked her legs eagerly in anticipation as the smell of fresh pancakes filled the air.

“Patience, baby girl. Mommy needs to cook them first.”

Natasha had successfully woken Y/n up for the second time, but this time the scowl on her small face did not let up.

“Hey grumpy girl,” she cooed, bouncing Y/n softly as though she was a baby. “Mornings really aren’t your thing, huh?”

“Here,” Wanda handed Natasha Y/n’s cup of milk, her go to in the morning. The twins had outgrown their morning bottles, but the comfort of warm milk at breakfast was something they both still enjoyed. “Hello grouchy,” she said with a kiss to her head.

Y/n did not stop glaring at everyone throughout breakfast, and Natasha and Wanda found it thoroughly entertaining. Her poor pancakes were being murdered by her tiny plastic fork and spoon, and with the combined mess of her squished raspberries, it sure looked like a massacre.

The plan was to drive to Melina’s in the morning and arrive late afternoon, just in time for the twins’ dinner and bedtime. This was the first time they would be sleeping in a different bed and both mothers were anxious to see how they would handle it. Hence the shortened night sleep.

Bags and car packed, twins buckled into their car seats and google maps yelling directions from Natasha’s phone, they were finally on the road. Y/n watched the world go by out of the window, the fluffy summer clouds catching her attention. She reached her hand up and stroked it through the air, trying to grab them.

Beside her, Isla was playing with Mr E, of course. He had one ear smaller than the other thanks to her teething phase, but she still cuddled him close and babbled to him quietly.

So far, so good, Wanda thought.

But she’d spoken too soon.

One hour. That’s how long they’d been on the road for before the sound of cries came from the back seat. There was still another 45 minutes before their first scheduled stop so Natasha kept driving, trying to block out the piercing screams behind her.

Wanda craned around in her seat, trying to pinpoint who was crying. But seeing Isla’s smiling face, she knew it was Y/n. She was sat directly behind Wanda’s chair which made the whole situation a lot harder.

“It’s ok, baby, it’s ok. Mommy’s here.” She tried her best to soothe her, rubbing her knee just about. But Y/n continued to cry and now Isla was looking a bit put out. The last thing the mothers needed was two crying toddlers.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Natasha asked, taking a small look at her daughter before she merged onto the highway. “Wands, can you-“

“I’ve got her, don’t worry.” She turned around in her chair more, trying to look directly at Y/n. “Don’t cry baby, what’s wrong?”

“My stuffy!” Y/n wailed, kicking her feet against the hard plastic of her seat. “My stuffy!”

Isla looked at her sister and then looked at the floor in front of her, spotting the familiar orange and black stuffed animal in the wrong place.

“Mommy she drop it,” Isla helpfully pointed out, gesturing down in front of Y/n’s seat. Wanda glanced down and sighed. Y/n had dropped her favourite tiger plushie onto the floor and out of reach, triggering her little outburst. The Sokovian reached behind her seat to grab it but failed; it was too far away. Y/n saw her unsuccessful attempt and cried harder. Her tiger was doomed.

“I’ll get it,” Natasha muttered, taking one hand off the steering wheel and reaching it behind Wanda’s seat whilst keeping the car steady on the road. She was such a typical dad driver, almost as if she were reaching back for candy.

“Nat no, you drive, I’ll do it. You really forget I’m a witch don’t you.” Natasha smiled sheepishly and retracted her hand, allowing Wanda to retrieve the toy with a few simple red wisps. She brought it to the front and dusted off and bits of dirt before handing it back to Y/n who seized it gladly and stuffed her face into its fur, her cries ceasing immediately.

“Noisy,” Isla said, making Nat and Wanda burst out laughing. Oh she was such a hypocrite even at the ripe age of three.

The gas station they stopped at luckily had a McDonald’s attached, which meant the twins struck up a chant for Happy Meals the second they saw their favourite restaurant. And luckily for Wanda and Natasha, their girls had a habit of falling asleep after lunch, so this was impeccably timed.

Two chicken nugget happy meals silenced the twins enough for the moms to get some peace and quiet. Natasha picked at her wrap whilst Wanda chewed on her fries, not overly fond of the burgers sold here. The restaurant wasn’t too busy, with it being a Wednesday, but Y/n and Isla still peered around at everyone who passed their table, making several elderly couples coo over their matching hair and outfits.

Wanda’s guilty pleasure was dressing them in the same outfit. She had to, before they got too old and refused. Natasha let her do most of their clothes shopping and each week she would return, squealing over the latest adorable outfit.

Y/n and Isla were comfortable but cute today. Black leggings and little grey sweatshirts with their newest pair of white converse. If Wanda was the clothes lover, Natasha was the shoes. Something about tiny versions of her own shoes made her heart clench and she just couldn’t refuse them. But of course there was a spare change of clothes on hand, just in case.

After another 5 hours of driving and stops, the SUV turned down a street that was incredibly familiar to the redhead behind the wheel. She drove slowly, taking in her surroundings. This place had never been associated with a happy time in her life, and receiving the news that Melina had bought the house again shocked her.

She cut off the engine in the driveway and felt Wanda’s hand slip into hers, giving her an encouraging squeeze. Wanda didn’t need to read her wife’s mind to feel the anxiety radiating off her, so she stepped up to be her rock and grounded her instantly.

“Where is this?” Isla piped up, her eyes glued to the window and the trees outside. Y/n was still half asleep but followed her sister’s gaze.

“Let’s go find out.” Natasha climbed out of her side and went to get Isla, whilst Wanda did the same with Y/n. The youngest was far too tired to want to walk, so she clung to Wanda’s cardigan desperately, wanting the safety of her mommy in this strange environment. But the second Natasha appeared she reached out, tiny fists grabbing at the air.

“Come on big girl,” Natasha groaned, taking Y/n from Wanda and settling her on her hip. “Let’s go see your aunt and grandma.”

Y/n didn’t clock what she said, too focused on playing with Natasha’s hair. Wanda held Isla’s hand tightly as the four made their way to the front door. There was a faint rustling once the doorbell was pressed and the door flung open to reveal a grinning blonde woman.

“They’re here!” She yelled, bouncing on her toes in excitement. “Natasha! You brought my babies!”

The redhead rolled her eyes. “Hello to you too Yelena.” Yelena barely acknowledged her sister, too busy smiling widely at the small red haired girl in her arms. “Are you going to invite us inside or are we going to stand here and freeze?”

“Yelena let your sister and her family inside!” A voice called from the dark hallway, making the blonde woman smile sheepishly and step to the side. Natasha tightened her grip around Y/n and stepped inside, focusing her attention on her daughter to keep her anxiety at bay. Walking into her childhood home had hit her harder than she’d expected.

Isla held onto Wanda’s hand as the family entered, suddenly feeling really shy in this new space. The interior was dark but weirdly comforting, the dated furniture only adding to the odd charm. Wanda could see how tense Natasha was just from the way she was standing and she wished she could comfort her.

The atmosphere was tense and awkward, and even the twins sensed it. Isla had stopped smiling and Y/n looped her arms around Natasha’s neck, pulling her closer. Nat kissed her hand and smiled reassuringly.

“How was your drive?” A dark haired woman asked, appearing in the corner of the room like a ghost. Pale skin, dark hair, Y/n was intrigued.

“Not too bad, a bit of traffic in the city but we got through it.”

“Mama who’s that?” Isla asked, holding onto Natasha’s pant leg whilst looking between the two strange women in front of her.

Natasha crouched down and placed Y/n on the floor, holding both of her girls by their waists.

“Ok girls, this is Mama’s sister,” she pointed to Yelena who gave a thumbs up. “And that’s your grandma. That’s my mom.” Y/n stared at Melina with hesitation. She could hear how uncertain her Mama was and that manifested itself in her own thoughts too. Even thought she was only two and a half.

“Who wants to give Aunt Yelena a hug?” Yelena sat on the floor and patted in front of her.

“They’re not dogs, Lena. They don’t just run over to you like that.”

Yelena frowned. “Well I don’t know! Fanny does it!”

At the mention of his name, the Akita perked his head up and trotted over to Yelena before settling down with his head in her lap. The twins’ eyes lit up at the sight of the dog.

“Doggy! Can we pet Mama?”

Wanda studied the scene in front of her. “Is he well trained, Yelena?” The blonde nodded and so did Melina. “Go on then girls. But be gentle.”

Y/n and Isla held each others hand and slowly approached the dog, completely missing the way Yelena grinned as they approached. She wanted to be the cool Aunt who spoilt her nieces and this was a win in her eyes.

“If you sit next to him he might give you kisses,” she said in her heavy Russian accent, gently pushing Fanny off her lap to let the twins take a seat. Y/n was more hesitant, letting Isla take Yelena’s hand first. The blonde crossed her legs and settled the small girl into her lap before holding out her arm for Y/n.

“It’s ok sweetheart,” Natasha encouraged when Y/n looked back at her moms. But that didn’t work. The youngest girl ran back to her Mama and pressed into her side, not trusting strangers like her sister did. She watched from the safety of Natasha’s arms as Isla stroked the Akita and giggled as his wet kisses tickled her cheek.

“Do you want to come with me and get a drink, Y/n?” Melina asked, smiling softly at the young girl with her hand out. Y/n looked up at Wanda and Natasha who nodded towards Melina, trying to get her daughter to detached herself from Natasha.

“You can’t stay with me,” Natasha said firmly, although her voice still had that gentleness to it. But Y/n really was struggling, and her change in voice made the little girl’s eyes well up with tears. Natasha glanced at Wanda with a sigh and quickly excused herself and Y/n back outside.

“What’s wrong, detka? Why the tears?”

“Just want you,” Y/n mumbled, rubbing her eye. Natasha shook her head and refused the toddler’s request for cuddles. “Mama!”

“You’re tired, aren’t you?” Her motherly instincts had hit the nail on the head and Y/n nodded. Not necessarily sleep-tired, but more from being in a new place. She just wanted to go home and be with her mamas but clearly that wasn’t an option. “Why don’t we see if grandma Melina has some milk or juice so you can have a nap.”

Y/n brushed against her lips with her thumb as she thought. “I get tiger?” Natasha allowed her to retrieve the forgotten stuffed animal from the car before they headed back inside to find Wanda sat on the floor giving Fanny some belly tickles with Isla.

Nat gave Y/n a small nudge of encouragement and watched as she toddled over to Melina, clutching her tiger for courage.

“Milk, p’ease?” She asked quietly,

Melina’s heart softened at her request and she glanced at Natasha fondly. “Of course, let’s go find some.” Offering her hand to the small girl who took it after a few seconds, they disappeared into the kitchen, Natasha following to loiter in the doorway between the two rooms.

Melina had picked Y/n up and sat her on the counter whilst she rummaged in the fridge to find a glass bottle of milk. She may act cold, but the second she’d found out the twins were visiting she had gone out and bought all the supplies she could think of. High chairs, plastic cups and plates, toys. You name it, she probably bought it.

And Natasha couldn’t quite believe it when she saw her ‘mom’ pull out a brand new cup with Y/n’s favourite princesses on it. The toddler smiled and accepted the drink, sipping on it carefully through the lid.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Natasha said, crossing her arms against her chest.

Melina shrugged off her comment, not wanting to be complimented. “I never got to do it with you.”

Natasha smiled a watery smile and crossed the threshold, gravitating towards the dining room window that overlooked the garden she knew so well. “You kept our old swingset.”

“Didn’t have the heart to take it down.”

“I used to love it so much-“

“You thought if you swung high enough you’d be able to touch the stars,” Melina cut her off, looking at Y/n fondly. “She looks so much like you.”

Natasha’s eyes lingered on the desolate swing set for a few more moments. If she looked hard enough she swore she could see tiny lights in the trees, dancing around the branches like forest stars.

“She’s got your heart too.”

Natasha wiped a stray tear and turned around, pressing her lips into a tight smile. “She’s my little miracle.”

“What happened with her?”

Natasha leaned her hands on the closest dining chair and sighed, not really wanting to relieve the moment that still felt so fresh in her mind, despite it occurring over two years ago.

“She had a heart defect when she was born and the doctors didn’t pick up on it right away. It was obvious that she was a bit smaller than Isla but they thought that was it. It wasn’t until a couple days later that she started struggling to breathe because her heart wasn’t working properly. I really thought we were going to lose her before we even brought her home.”

Y/n was oblivious that she was being talked about and she just sat there idly drinking her milk and fiddling with the technological watch on Melina’s wrist. She didn’t understand, but the sound of her Mama’s voice was soothing and made her eyelids start to droop slowly.

“Does she still have trouble now?”

Natasha shook her head. “Thankfully no. We still have to have regular check ups just to make sure it’s all ok, but the surgery seemed to have fixed the problem.” She couldn’t help but pout at Y/n tiredness as she noticed from across the room. “Would you mind making another cup for Isla? They could do with a nap before dinner.”

Melina happily obliged and sent Natasha back into the living room with a cup for Isla who gratefully accepted it. She leaned against Yelena as she drank it and the blonde woman held her carefully, her boisterous nature suddenly flipped 180 in the presence of a child. Wanda came to join Natasha’s side, having missed her even for those few minutes.

“Do you want to put them down for a nap?” Natasha whispered to Wanda, knowing that she felt very much on the outside of this situation. “I’ll go and bring the bags to our room.”

“Have the girls got their own room?”

“Yeah. Yelena offered to sleep on the couch so they’re taking her room and we’re across the hall. Like always.”

Wanda slipped her hand into Natasha’s and pressed a small kiss to her lips, wanting to keep it short and sweet. “Ok then, I’ll let Isla finish if you go get the stuff.”

After an almost-asleep Y/n was placed on Wanda’s lap, Natasha headed back to the car to start ferrying their bags back and forth.

“Isla, baby, it’s nap time,” the Sokovian cooed, only to be met with grumbles of protest.

“No, stay Lena!” Whining was a clear sign that she was tired, but Isla was a stubborn as Natasha and scowled hard, tiny face screwing up.

“I’m sure Yelena will come and help if you’re a good girl.” Bribery, the most effective parenting tactic. Isla turned around and looked up at Yelena with her big green eyes, completely melting the Russian’s heart and making her fall head over heels in love.

“Why don’t you show me your cool pyjamas, huh?” Yelena said, tickling Isla gently in the ribs. This got the toddler up and moving, pulling as hard as she could on Yelena’s hand to make her follow. Wanda chuckled and let Yelena lead the way up the small staircase to her room where two makeshift beds had been set up.

Natasha had worked speedy and already laid out a folded pair of pyjamas for the girls on each bed, and Isla ran straight towards hers, eager to show Yelena. She babbled away as the blonde helped her get changed, her sleepy state now a million miles away.

Y/n let Wanda get her changed and didn’t protest once, but the slightly frown on her face was a telltale sight that she still wasn’t happy.

“Will you read story?” Isla asked Yelena as she climbed under the covers, Mr E tucked safely under her arm. Yelena looked at Wanda for permission who just shook her head.

“We usually only do stories at bedtime.”

“Maybe later, soldier.” Isla frowned but accepted her answer and yawned. “Sleep well, little one.”

Both adults backed out of the room and found Natasha downstairs with Melina, their voices hushed as they talked.

“Are they always so different?” Yelena asked, plopping down onto the couch and almost hitting Natasha in the process.

“What do you mean?”

The blonde screwed up her face. “Well, Isla is so… you know, and Y/n is…” descriptive as ever.

“They’ve always been like that,” Natasha sighed, leaning her head on Wanda’s shoulder and smiling as their hands found each other.

“Y/n is her Mama’s girl,” Wanda said with a fond smile, no hint of resentment or jealous in her words. “But they’re so different it’s crazy sometimes. And Y/n has her moments, but she prefers to watch while Isla talks. Saves our ears, that’s for sure.”

“Speaking of talking, where is he?” There was bitterness to Natasha’s tone and Melina clenched her jaw, her hands coming to smooth over her black pants.

“I sent him away for the week,” she admitted, watching Natasha’s eyes shift at the news. “I didn’t think it would be good for the girls… or you.”

Natasha’s original hardened expression slowly softened and she bit her tongue to stop the tears building. Motherhood had made her soft and emotional, but she didn’t realise just how much.

“A mother always knows, Natasha. I’m sure you both would have done the same if it was the other way around.”

It was like a weight lifted off her shoulders and for the first time since they’d left that morning, she finally relaxed. Her girls were safely asleep upstairs, Wanda was grounding her by her side, and the family she had abandoned for years had welcomed her back with open arms.

Maybe these reconnections weren’t going to be so bad after all.

#natasha romanoff #fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #double the trouble au #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #wandanat #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x daughter!reader

[togrowoldinv]

Time

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When you visit the Bartons with your family, you and Natasha spend some quality time reconnecting

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, fingering (R receiving), oral (N and R receiving), being needy, some fluff too

Note: Enjoy this hehe

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

“Are we there yet?” Your youngest daughter asks from the backseat of the car.

You’ve been driving for hours to reach the Barton farm. Natasha wants to visit while the kids are on spring break.

“The answer is still no, sweetheart,” Natasha answers patiently.

“We’ll tell you when we get there, Taylor,” Ali, your oldest, jumps in. She’s annoyed by the constant question and her tone doesn’t hide that.

“Be nice,” you remind her.

“Yeah be nice, Al,” your oldest son says. The two oldest kids start arguing, but Nat stops it quickly.

“Hey, none of that,” she says, expertly parenting. “This is a family trip. We will be kind to each other and we will have fun. Understood?”

A few nods follow.

“Understood?” Nat repeats.

That gets her the answers she was waiting for. A chorus of yes ma’am’s resound from the backseat. You turn up the radio and try to make the last hour of the trip enjoyable.

When you pull in the driveway, you look back at Taylor.

“Ask the question again, baby,” you say.

“Are we there yet?”

“We are here,” you reply. “Come on let’s go have some fun.”

You all unload from the car. Nat refused to be a minivan family, so you settled for a three row suv. The Bartons come outside to help.

“Hi Nat,” Laura greets your wife. She hugs her tight. There’s only a handful of people in the world that Natasha trusts as much as she does Laura and Clint.

“And hi y/n,” she greets you as well.

You’re corralling the babies at the moment and can’t hug her, but the warm smile on her face feels like a hug.

“Go see Auntie Laura,” you say to Belle and Taylor, the two littlest girls.

The girls run to her and hug her tight. Ali is catching up with Lila while Ivan, Jack, and Cooper reconnect.

“Well, I guess it’s just us to unload,” Nat comments. She walks around to meet you at the back of the car.

“What’s new?” You joke.

“Hey, while we have a second alone,” Nat begins. She presses you against the back of the car, running her hands over your shoulders and arms down to your hands. “Thank you for coming. And I love you.”

“I love you too, Natasha,” you say, feeling your face flush from how close she is. You can smell her perfume and her fresh hair.

She’s so close to you that it hurts. You want to devour her.

“I’ll show you later just how much I love you, okay?” Her voice is low, sexy as it could be.

Nat leans in and steals a quick but deep kiss, leaving you wanting more.

You pout when she pulls away, but she just laughs. You’re too easy.

Later that day, Clint drives everyone out to the field where he’s got a new pig pin. The kids love chasing the pigs around and playing with them.

Natasha shares a look with you about an hour into the fun that tells you she wants to get back to the house and have her own type of fun with you.

“Clint, we’re going to head back,” she tells him.

“But Mama we’re having fun!” Belle says.

“They can stay out here with us. I know you two are exhausted from the drive in,” Laura says. She winks at you. Maybe you weren’t so slick earlier behind the car.

“Thanks Laur,” Natasha says. “Be good, babies.”

You both kiss each kid before you start walking back to the house with Natasha. You’re hand in hand as you walk through the field. You love seeing Nat like this. So free. So happy.

Your smile must reveal that to her. She stops and turns to you.

“What is it?” Nat asks.

“Hm?”

“You’re looking at me differently,” she replies.

“You’re so beautiful,” you say. “And you’re even more beautiful out here.”

Natasha kisses you softly. She is so in love.

“We better get back to the house before I take you right here in this field,” Nat says.

“What would be so wrong with that?” You say, surprised by your own boldness.

“Oh,” Nat remarks. “Did my wife, my sweet, sweet, innocent wife just say that she wants me to fuck her right here outside where anyone could see us?”

You know she can see the way she’s making you feel. An absolute puddle for her.

“Come on,” Nat says, grabbing your hand again and pulling towards the house again.

By the time you make it to the porch, you’re tripping over each other as you try to make out while walking.

“Upstairs now,” Nat says.

You move as fast you can into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you. Natasha pulls you to her and turns you to back you into the bed. You fall back a little harshly, but Natasha’s lips connecting with yours distracts you from the slight pain.

“Fuck,” you moan into her mouth.

Nat’s strong hands pull your shirt over your head. You barely have time to process it before you’re entirely naked underneath her.

“Are you going to be good for me?” Nat asks.

“Yes,” you say. She takes a nipple in her mouth while her fingers slip between your legs. “Fuck.”

“You’re so fucking hot,” Natasha says.

Her fingers enter you quickly. She swallows your moan with her kiss. You want her to be as undressed as you are. You reach for her shirt hem, but she pushes your hand away.

“Just you right now,” Natasha says. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you say.

Her fingers continue to pump in and out of you at a fast pace. You can feel yourself slipping into a blissful state.

“Natasha,” you mumble. It’s all you can say right now.

“I love you,” Natasha says. “Be a good girl and come for me.”

You let yourself come and come hard for your wife. It’s the best sex you’ve had in months, maybe years.

“That’s right, baby. You’re so good,” Nat says as she works you down. “So good for me.”

Natasha drops a kiss to your forehead and lies beside you. You come back to reality at the feeling of her hand circling yours.

“God, I have missed that,” you say.

Nat chuckles. She has too.

“Shower with me?” She asks.

“Gladly,” you agree.

Nat helps you out of bed and essentially carries you to the bathroom. You start the shower.

“May I?” You ask, gesturing to her clothes. You want to be the one to take them off.

“Please,” Nat says.

You lift her shirt over her head. It never ceases to amaze you how beautiful she is. You unclasp her bra and kiss her shoulder softly.

“Gorgeous,” you whisper, placing your head in the crook of her neck.

You move your hands down her abs and to her waist. Slipping your hands down the jeans she’s wearing, you find her dripping wet for you.

“Getting me off really turns you on, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” You ask her.

“Mhm,” she says. “But I’m in control here.”

Nat takes a step back and pulls her own pants down. She takes your hand and leads you into the shower.

“Why deny yourself, Nat? You know I’d kneel for you right here and now.” You ask her.

Natasha smirks. This was exactly her plan. To have you begging to make her feel good.

“Then kneel,” Natasha says after a long pause. She presses on your shoulders just enough to make you feel the pressure.

Grinning, you drop to your knees. You can’t even remember the last time you were in this position with her. God, you love farm Natasha.

“Right there, detka,” she says. “Yes.”

You hum in pleasure at the taste of her. You’re the luckiest person in the world to be here with her like this.

“Yes! Fuck, y/n, yes!” Natasha groans out. You can’t see her but you know she’s biting her lip. She’s close. It doesn’t take much longer for Natasha to be trembling at the feeling of your mouth all over her.

“I’m coming,” Nat says. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You help her ride her high and lick her until she’s pushing you away. You stand back up and she kisses you immediately.

Her tongue mingles with yours. The taste of her orgasm on your tongue turns her on even more.

“How long do we have?” She asks you.

“Not long I’d bet,” you say. “It’s almost dinner time.”

“I’ll make it quick,” Nat says.

She pushes you to the edge of the shower and you sit down, spreading your legs for her.

“All for me,” Natasha says. “Look at this.”

“All for you, Nat. Only you,” you reply.

She buries her face between your legs. You can’t help but lift your hips up at the feeling. Natasha holds your hips and helps you move them. Soon enough, you’re riding her face.

“Natasha,” you say over and over like it’s a prayer. “Natasha!”

You hold her head with one hand and keep yourself steady with the other. She eats you out like it’s the only place in the world she wants to be.

You come hard against her tongue. Nat moans successfully and pulls away to let you come down.

She grins at your blissed out face. She loves making you feel so good.

“I love you,” she says softly. It’s a sharp contrast to what you were just doing. “I hope you know how much I love you.”

“I do, baby,” you say, caressing her cheek. “I love you exactly the same.”

You kiss each other gently. Nat helps you stand back up and you actually shower. The water isn’t hot anymore, so you hurry up.

Once you get out, you get dressed and go downstairs. The family is just getting back from being outside. Perfect timing.

“Enjoy your alone time?” Laura asks.

“We sure did,” Natasha replies. She wraps an arm around your waist. You share a soft smile.

For the rest of the trip, you and Natasha soak up every moment with each other and with your family. It’s absolutely an amazing week.

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