#black widow reader insert

[strsburn]

believe in something | b. wayne (batman) [3]

pairing - bruce wayne (batman) x widow! reader

synopsis - in which you are a puzzle the bat can't quite figure out

see also - bruce gets a taste of his own medicine

warnings - past abuse, trauma, brainwashing, violence

notes - thank you so so much for all the comments, reblogs and likes on this series. i am truly grateful for every single one, it motivates me to continue and i am happy you all love these characters as i do.

that being said, for all writers i ask that you reblog and leave a comment, you might think it won't mean much but it does and we see every single one, it brings a warmth to us writers and without your feedback our writing would not flourish so thank you x

PREVIOUS • SERIES MASTERLIST

Eyes decorated with dark bruises and traces of black paint review the footage carefully, running over each frame with intense precision as the sounds of each counterpart echo through the cave.

The computer whirs as the video is paused and rewinded, the scene playing out in a consistent loop that serves no real purpose other than to produce more questions than answers.

The screen glitches before it once again rewinds and your face is displayed in grainy pixels that clear up as the image settles. Your eyes are soft yet firm around the edges, narrowed with distrust and determination as your body follows a dance only you can follow. With each strike against your opponent, you bounce back on the balls of your feet never once faltering. It's too skilled to be that of a simple bodyguard.

"Well, she seems delightful. A new friend, I gather?"

Bruce Wayne startles, bleary eyes looking over his shoulder where a withered but stubborn man stands. In his distracted state he failed to hear Alfred coming up behind him. It's then that he realizes he was asked a question and he hums as he glances at the screen.

"She works for Oz." He offers, letting the video rewind. He can feel the amusements radiating off of the older man as the clip plays out, a montage of his ass getting handed to him. While he should be offended he is only left confused and frustrated. He is by no means a small man, so how is it that she could lift him so easily with no strain or hesitation.

You were a puzzle he so desperately needed to figure out.

Fatigued eyes turn back to the footage, a quiet click sounds as the video rewinds and Alfred takes his leave.

You stare at the screen blankly, mind a whirling mess as three words glare at you mockingly.

Anton is back

It should be impossible, you had seen his body aflame. Yet, you knew a man as evil as he could never truly be gone and you so foolishly thought you could escape him. Could escape the horrors of your past, but like all things the past does not stay buried for long.

A shaky exhales escapes your lips as you drag a hand through your hair, your thumb finding way to your lip as you contemplate. Bringing up the contacts app you click a familiar name and wait as the dial tone rings, the sound echoing in your rather small apartment.

"привет" The raspy tone greets cautiously.

"Is it true?" You ask without missing a beat, trying to swallow the lump in your throat as your heart beats painfully in your chest.

You wait for a laugh to greet you, a result of a poorly made joke, but when silence is your only reply, you feel true fear seeping into your bones.

"Natalia, is it true?" You plead again. You hear her whispered apologies and you know that you are not the only one shaken by the news.

You disconnect the call as your hand falls limply to your side and your mind is haunted by the whispers of your failures.

You would never truly be free, not as long as he still breathed.

You sat in the corner of the room, feet throbbing and toes calloused as you watched the rest of the room perform a perfect pirouette.

Envy crawled up your throat as you watched Natalia Romanova, perfect and poised as usual. Ballet came as easy to her as breathing, a skill you could not share. You weren't sure if it was the right circumstance for you to be envious, but you were.

"Well hello, little one." You gasped as a face appeared before yours, brown eyes hidden behind scarred facial tissue and jawline decorated with a thoroughly trimmed beard. He sported dark black hair peppered with grey yet he wore it proudly.

"Hello." You whispered cautiously, unsure of the man's motives.

"My name is Anton, what might your name be?" He questioned, a russian accent slipping through on his last word.

You gave him your name and watched a slow grin overtook his face, revealing rows of white teeth. It oddly reminded you of a great white right before it consumed its meal.

"We will make it a name to be feared."

"I know Sel, I know, believe me if I hear anything, you'll be the first to know." You placate as you hear the frustration in your friend's voice, an emotion you know is to disguise her worry.

Annika had been missing for a week now and any record of her had been wiped as if she never existed. You had been discrete when asking around in hopes of learning of her whereabouts but so far it lead to nothing but tight lips and dead ends.

You didn't think it a coincidence that as soon as Annika disclosed even a smidge of her relations with the former mayor she was nowhere to be seen.

You shake your head to dispel the thoughts clouding your mind and slide on your thigh high boots over your lace fishnets. You chance a look in the mirror and smooth out your leather skirt and black top, appreciative of how it compliments your skin.

As you head out for your late shift at the lounge you cross your fingers that the Bat will be otherwise occupied.

Bruce Wayne found himself back at the iceberg lounge, donning his nightly gear of leather and kevlar. Truly he had no real reason to be there, seeing as he had found a lead on his recent case courtesy of one, Selina Kyle. Yet there he was, crouched on the building opposite, eyes trained on your form through rain pelted binoculars.

You moved through the crowd with ease, one hand placed on your side where he could see a gun peeking from the waistband of your skirt. The crowd seemed to part for you as your eyes moved from person to person, scanning for threats.

He felt his lips dip into a frown as you moved out of sight, his binoculars lowering as he felt the cold pour into the empty spaces of his jacket.

Bruce was used to being the cryptic one, the orphan billionaire that had become a recluse. At night he donned the suit of a bat in order to fight crime and solve the puzzles the police could not. He craved knowledge and hated ignorance. Yet, he found himself stumped. You were a riddle he did not have the answer to, and he could not fathom why.

A siren wailed nearby, shaking him from his thoughts and he stood grabbing his grappling hook and swinging back to the ground, with one last glance in your direction he was off.

The pair of eyes that had been trailing you since you arrived for your shift finally disappeared and you felt your shoulders ease slightly as you moved around the bar, keeping a close eye on Oz who thankfully seemed unbothered as he drank to his hearts content, laughing with a group of unfamiliar men you had no interest in knowing.

You allowed yourself a break as you leant on the counter, accepting a glass from the bartender with an appreciative nod. With each sip of the margarita you felt your tension begin to melt away and your thoughts clear.

"Rule number one?"

"Never let your guard down. A widow is always prepared."

"Very good, маленький. You're learning."

"My my, маленький. It seems you've gotten rusty." The endearment dripped with faux sweetness sent chills up your spine.

You felt the glass tremble beneath your fingers as you turned on unsteady heels, praying to any who would answer that your mind was simply playing a cruel trick on you.

Brown eyes hidden by scarred facial tissue and the depths of hell greeted you with a sharp smile.

"Hello, little one."

tag list 💓

@philiasoul @blue-aconite @strawberriebabbles @n1ght5h4d3-24 @daryldixonstorm @drifterbruce @blossomedfloweroflove @goldbvtton @f-ergj @thecraziestcrayon @tmt-alexis @alinefrank @doritoinflation @twsssmlmaa @symonedg1 @spideyanakin-interacts

#graysonshaven #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne fanfiction #battinson #battinson x reader #black widow reader insert #batman x fem!reader #batman 2022 #black widow 2021 #robert pattinson batman

[lis-likes-fics]

Delicious

Pairings: demon!Natasha x Reader Word Count: 5.5k words Prompt: Demon AU Warnings: NSFW, corruption kink, fingering, oral (f! receiving), multiple orgasms, strap-on, swearing... A/N: This is late and it's not very good. This would have been so much better but I have ADHD brain and I had to rush this a bit. Sorry, guys. But I hope you still like it! Thank you!

Natasha had never been in this shop before.

Drawn to a strange feeling coming from within, she wanders inside the little cafe and stares at its warm tones, letting her eyes wander the wall of books, the tables and booths, the counter where a beautiful waitress talks to a customer. She lays eyes on you and can feel the mischief twisting in her gut.

You are perfect.

The light that surrounds you is a beacon of…purity. Your tan apron wraps securely around your body, your hair is out of your face, your smile is brighter than the sun and snow outside. She can taste the innocence oozing off your skin like honey from a honey dipper.

You are radiant, and he can’t wait to hold you in her hands and see how dark she can make you.

A dark and charming grin spreads over her red lips as she walks up to the counter, waiting for you to give your warm goodbye to the last customer and offer a warm hello to the next. She steps forward and swears she could get drunk off your virtue.

You give her a bright smile, and she can see it shining in your eyes too. “Hi! What can I get ya?”

Natasha lets her green eyes wander the menu for only a moment, turning her gaze back to you as she speaks slowly, deeply, letting her rasp wash over you like a siren to a sailor. “I’ll have a mocha.”

You nod, picking up your notepad and a permanent marker to write her order as you take in the sight of her face. She’s beautiful. “And what size would you like that in?”

“Grande.”

You pick up the cup, nodding as you do. “Anything else?”

She looks you up and down, drinking you in some more before gauging what it does to you. You seem almost fidgety, flustered. She grins. “What do you recommend?”

“Well,” you chuckle lightly, “I am a sucker for our Christmas special—the gingersnaps. I shape them like little Christmas trees.” You illustrate your words as you pull your hands up to form a triangle, the closest you can get to the tree.

She raises her brows. “Oh, so you make them?”

You nod proudly, smiling widely as you set your hands on the counter. “I do!”

She hums. You’re adorable. “I’ll take it.”

“Alright-y! Will that be all for you?”

“It will,” she nods simply.

You grab her cup size and clutch the permanent marker. “And what’s the name on that order?”

“Natasha,” she purrs, watching you closely and letting her gaze openly drink you in to see how you’ll react. You’re so flustered already, practically melting at the sultry nature of her voice. “But I think Nat will do just fine.”

You start writing the name, “Nat” in pretty script. “Alright, Natasha. A grande mocha and gingersnaps coming right up!” You say her name like warm icing on cinnamon rolls, letting it drip over your skin like melted caramel. You look at her and smile fondly, shyly, your head tilted slightly down but your eyes glancing up at her nervously. “You have…a beautiful name, by the way.”

Natasha chuckles, shaking her head gently. You're hypnotized. “I can't tell if you're flirting or if you're just that nice.”

“O-Oh!” you say, your eyes widening slightly as she catches you by surprise. “Oh, I'm a really bad flirt.” You meet her eyes again and she sees you panic for a moment as you raise your hands. “W-Well, not to say you're not worth flirting with! I think you're very pretty—gorgeous, even. You're very—You're really–!”

She cuts you off with a hearty laugh, reaching a hand out to gently grab your own as she offers you an almost sly grin. “Relax, sweetness,” she bids. “I think you're absolutely delicious, too.”

“O-Oh,” you sigh, smiling as she eases your nerves. Then you realize, “Delicious?”

“Did I say delicious?” She shakes her head gently as if to say “silly me”. She pats your hand lightly before removing her soft fingers from you. She never looks away from your face. “I meant delightful.”

You nod before you speak. Natasha can't help but think how adorable you are, like the purest angel—but how they are in the movies, not the ones stuck up her ass all the time, calling her pest and rodent and vermin.

No. You would never say something so harsh. She can see it in you, the purest diamond. She wants to break you.

“Okay,” you speak softly—and you're so naïve, she thinks for a moment that you heard her thoughts and were offering yourself up to such exploitations.

She licks her bottom lip subtly. She can almost taste your honey. “What was my total?”

You seem to snap out of whatever thoughts run through your mind. “Well…” you clear your throat, “since you're so nice and I own this place… I'll give you the cookies on the house and bring your total down some.” You lean in, and she thinks you'll wink. “Our secret.”

She doesn't know if she thinks you're capable of holding secrets. But she's been around humankind so much, she knows there's always a secret lurking around the corner. You all just can't help yourselves…

“Nonsense,” she shakes her head. “I'd hate to do that to you.”

You smile gently. “Come on. Let me do this. You've been so nice.”

She scoffs gently, not offendedly. “Nice isn't a word people usually associate with me.”

You tilt your head, genuinely curious as to how someone so sweet could never be called “nice”. “What do they usually use?”

With a dark glint in her pretty green eyes, she smiles. “Sinful.”

“Sinful?” you mutter.

She shrugs a shoulder. “I've got a bit of a…mischievous streak.”

You smile sweetly. “And I like giving pretty girls free cookies.”

Natasha sighs, looking you up and down for the sole reason of flustering you again. “Well,” she says, “at least accept this big tip.”

“Tip?” you tilt your head.

“For a beautiful girl like you.”

She's done it. You clear your throat and nod. “O-Oh. Okay,” you say, watching her pull out her wallet. When she pulls out a hefty $50 bill, your eyes widen and you look like you'll have a heart attack. “Oh, this is too much! I can't accept this!”

She makes a pouty face, gazing at you with those pretty green eyes. She leans forward, and you feel yourself crumbling at the sight of her. “Oh, but you would break my heart if you didn't.” She slides the bill over and smiles, still presenting her puppy dog eyes as she lowers her voice. “You don't want to break my heart…do you?”

No. Never. How could you ever break the heart of someone so…her?

“I…” your teeth graze your bottom lip as you think to yourself before ultimately giving in. “Okay.” You slowly reach your hand out and hesitantly grab the bill, clearing your throat and feeling a little clammy for accepting the money as you put it in the pocket of your apron.

She smiles, but it's more like a smirk, a devilish curl of the lips that you don't quite label as dangerous, like you should.

“Good girl,” she purrs.

You don't know why that has such an effect on you. You feel yourself go limp but you stay standing as your eyes flutter and you feel the need to clear your throat again.

“While I'm in the charitable spirit,” Natasha says, satisfied with your obedience, “why don't you go out with me sometime? Got any Christmas plans?”

Your face is warm, the tips of your ears burn with the idea of going out with such a beautiful creature. As you think of your holiday plans, you shake your head. “Uhm, n-no.” Why can't you seem to speak today?

“No?” she says, her face drenched in surprise. “No dinner with family, an outing with friends?” She finds it hard to believe that a sweet girl like you has nothing to do for the biggest holiday season of the year.

But it's hard to have friends when you're all the way in New York and your family is all the way in California and all your friends are visiting their families or have their own friends to be with.

So, no… no plans for you.

“No,” you smile, almost sadly. “Nothing for me this year.”

Natasha almost thinks she's taking pity on you when she asks this, rather than forming her own plan to taint your white ledger.

“Well, I've got no plans. You've got no plans.” She smiles and reaches her hand out to brush your fingers. “Let's fix that.”

“O-Okay,” you stutter.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

She nods, pleased with you. “I'll meet you here, then. Seven o'clock, Christmas day. Dress to impress.”

You smile sweetly. “Always do.”

“I can see that,” she says, looking you up and down with an appreciative glance.

You smile widely, a grand smile that puts the sun to shame. “I'll have your order right out.” You pick up your pen and dot the notepad you have her order written on.

Natasha nods before turning and walking toward a tiny table by the window, the morning light still pouring in, even as the morning slowly dwindles into noon. She watches you as you work, her eyes glued to your body as she follows you everywhere.

You really are just so…pure. She was thinking it may have been a façade to make the customers feel welcome, but one look at you, one sniff of your perfume, one word from your sweet lips and she knew you were sweet as sugar. Pure.

She hasn't met someone this pure in a very long time, if ever.

And you would taste divine.

“Nat.”

Her name said by such honey-tainted lips pulls her from her thoughts. She rises from her seat and makes her way to you once more.

Your smile is already ready, and just so sweet. “I hope you enjoy. Thank you for coming and…” you smile, biting your lip briefly, “I'll see you soon.”

“Thank you…” Her gaze darts down to your nametag, reading the letters one-by-one to savor the taste of it. She says your name like she's making love to it. You shudder. “Beautiful name.”

“Thank you,” you speak, your voice so soft and gracious she could have mistaken it for a whimper.

Natasha grabs the cup and the box of cookies, her fingers intentionally brushing yours as she speaks. “Christmas day. Seven. Don't forget.”

You shake your head. “I won't.”

She smiles. “Goodbye, angel.”

You nod quickly, too excited to see her again. “Bye, Nat.”

She walks out of the little cafe, her treats in hand. She lets the door close behind her, lets the bell ring about her head. Once she's out of the coffee shop but still in your view, she takes a sip of her scorching hot coffee like it's nothing and sighs. Even the coffee is as pure as you, perhaps because it was made by such hands.

She turns her head to see you watching her through the window and just nods. She watches your fluster, nodding proudly back to her before trying to look busy.

She can't wait to devour you.

~

You don't know how you got here, with your back pressed to your bedroom wall, with Natasha's hands smoothing underneath your shirt to touch the bare skin of your waist, with your lips molding perfectly with her own like they were made to fit together.

You'd gotten to the cafe an hour early, pretending—even to yourself—to tidy the place since you were closed for the holiday. Natasha showed up five minutes late, but fashionably so. She was beautiful; a pretty blouse red as blood, dark slacks tight around her waist and loose the rest of the way down, a black coat draped down past her knees.

The air was knocked from your lungs. She was beautiful.

Her eyes examined you, and she was impressed. You wore a short, long-sleeved, cream-colored dress and skin-colored tights to fight the cold. An angel.

She’d taken your hand and kissed the back of it, telling you how beautiful you were—though you swear you heard her say “delicious” again.

Then she took you to dinner. It was a nice restaurant, somewhere cozy with really good food. She paid for your food and for dessert, and you told her she didn't have to, but she insisted.

Then she took you ice skating. She held your hand the whole time and paid for you, and you told her she didn't have to, but she insisted.

Then she took you on a late night walk through the park. She held your hand and kept you close and told you that the moon looked beautiful on your skin. You told her she didn't have to, but she insisted.

Then when she walked you home, telling you how beautiful you were at the doorstep and taking your hands and pulling you in for a gentle kiss, you smiled and kissed her back. Then she kept kissing you, and you kept kissing back.

And it turned into you opening your door and letting her inside, kissing her some more and offering her coffee, only to have her tell you that she had everything she needed right here.

Hands wandered, then lips wandered, then she pressed you into the wall, and now she's got you laid out on your bed, still fully dressed and so, so hot.

She leans over you, inhaling the scent of your perfume with a sigh as she keeps kissing you. You hold her, your arms wrapped securely around her neck to keep her close.

Her teeth graze your lip, struggling to refrain from biting so hard, she draws the sweet syrup of your blood. You lean into her touch, keening against her and longing to savor the flavor of her name on your lips as you whisper, “Natasha.”

She wraps her hand around your throat as her mouth trails down to your neck, to your collarbone, feeling your pulse beating rapidly under the skin. Her teeth sink into your flesh, and she chuckles deeply when your breath hitches.

She could just as easily crush your windpipe if she wanted to. She could snap her fingers, and you'd be reduced to nothing but a pile of ash and bone.

But where was the fun in that?

No, she would savor you. She would lick your skin and taste the sweet ambrosia you'd create all for her. She would carve her name into your flesh with the bite of her claws. She would sink her sharp teeth to the bone. She would make you scream until the only word you knew were the letters of her name.

Her hand dips low under your dress, gripping your thigh as she slowly moves it up, up, up, her fingers digging into your skin as she does. Your eyes flutter shut, resorting to just feeling her as she touches you any way she likes. She hums deep in her throat as she pulls back to look at you, riding your dress up and pulling your leggings down so she can see the pretty panties you wore for her.

“Mm,” she sighs. “You look delicious, darling.”

Your tiny chuckle comes out as a breathy moan. “Don’t you mean,” you whimper slightly as her sharp nails dig into your skin as they make their way down your leg, the stinging sensations exciting you more than she initially thought. Corrupting you will be easy. “Don’t you mean ‘delightful’?”

Her hand around your throat tightens just a slight, not enough to constrict any airflow, but just enough for you to feel the warmth of her palm against your skin. “No,” she rasps. “I mean delicious.”

She manages to get your tights off, humming appreciatively at your lacey panties before ripping those off your body instead. You gasp lightly but say nothing else, allowing her to do as she wishes as you sit back and enjoy it.

Your hips jerk when her thumb teases the skin of your mound, dipping between your thighs just enough to press it lightly to your clit. Your breath hitches, your chest rising and falling in quick succession as she presses her thumb so lightly, you wonder if she’s actually touching you. She teases you like this for a moment, feather-light touches that make you so desperate for her.

“Tasha,” you whimper. “Please, I need you.”

Her eyes glint at the way you plead for her. Already, you’ve begun to beg. You’re so responsive, so sensitive to her touch. One would think you were untouched, but no… She would be able to smell that off you, and she smells that this is not the first time someone has been between your legs.

How precious you are. Tainted but still so unspoiled.

The pad of her middle finger grazes your slit, teasing you further as your body keens for her touch. “Say it one more time for me, baby,” she whispers in your ear. “Say it. ‘Please, I need you.’ Lemme hear it.”

You whine gently, letting one hand travel to her hair to let your fingers card through the softness of her red locks. You let your bottom lip pass between your teeth before you gladly obey her. “Please,” you whisper, lifting your hips to meet her. “I need you.”

Proud of herself, and of you, she slips her finger inside of you, sheathing it in the warmth and wetness of your body. You hum, closing your eyes. “How is that, angel?” she smiles, watching your eyes dart behind your closed lids.

You nod, parting your lips as a breath passes through them. “Yes.”

She grins devilishly. “Good girl.” She rewards you with another finger in the tightness of your slickening pussy. You reward her with another little whimper. She pumps them slowly, in and out of you, pushing them deep to feel every little part of you before allowing herself to pull out and do it again.

She curls her fingers inside of you, a come hither motion making your lips round into a ‘o’ shape. You whisper her name again, gently begging her for more. More closeness, more pleasure, more her.

She pumps them slowly, massaging your spongy walls as you begin to move your hips to the rhythm. “More?” you whimper, still so polite as you beg her for a request. And how could she say no when you’re as sweet as you are?

“You want more of me, angel?” she smiles. “I’ll give you some more.”

She dips down to kiss your collarbone again before she pulls her fingers out of you and laughs at the way you whimper, a pathetic little sound at the loss of her touch. Before you can begin to protest, you hear her snap and feel the zipper at your back begin to zip down your body. But you have no time to question her, as her lips attack yours between the time it takes to pull the dress over your head and off your body.

You don’t seem shy when you are laid bare to her. You keep holding her and kissing her, forgetting your confusion and shock before in favor of tasting the spice of her lips. She pushes you back onto the bed, abruptly separating you, even as your hands stay attached to her arms just to feel her soft skin.

She leans down over your body and lets her kisses ghost over your flesh, a phantom of herself teasing you. You feel her warm breath at the juncture of your thighs and want nothing more than to feel her tongue next. And it seems your prayers are answered when the hot muscle of her tongue flattens against your wet pussy and licks the arousal she’s pulled from you.

She’s happy to listen to the way you whisper her name under your breath when her lips wrap around you, allowing her tongue to plunge between your folds and fill you with pleasure. You moan and grind your hips against her face. She has to hold you down, chuckling darkly as she continues to lap at your needy core.

She sucks around your clit and swirls around your folds, tasting the sweetness you bear with a deep hum. “You taste just as delicious as you smell,” she rasps, kissing you messily. “This body is so…divine.” You melt under her praise, your hands tangling in her hair as your chest heaves.

Her fingers join her tongue once more, stroking and spreading and slipping in and out of you with the sole goal of tasting more of your sweet, sweet honey. “Natasha,” you moan. “Oh, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? That’s a new one. Out of all the words in the Urban dictionary that can be used to describe Natasha Romanoff, sweetheart is not among them. Still, it’s sweet, and she thinks you’re adorable for thinking that way.

Natasha devours you, feeding off your moans like they are the essence of her being. Her hands grip your flesh and her tongue delves inside of you. She replaces her tongue with her fingers once more, pumping them in and out of you, curling against that sweet spot hidden deep within you. Your back arches and your moans get sucked up into the walls of your bedroom, pitchy and full of breath and desperation. You need her like you need air.

You moan her name again and she knows you’re close by the way your pussy tightens around her fingers, the way your clit pulses between her lips, by the way your fingers begin to tug at the locks of red hair you have tangled between them. She works harder, so eager to taste your nectar.

You hurdle over the edge with a loud, gasping moan. She holds you securely atop the counter, fingering and licking at your pussy as you gush around her, easing you through your orgasm. You chant her name under your breath, riding out your high against her face as she keeps building you up and prolonging your release just so she can continue to suck on your offerings, like the sap from a maple tree.

The last sparks of pleasure shoot through your limbs, in your belly. Your hips jerk when her fingers curve inside of you just a slight. She pulls them out and pulls away and licks her lips like she’s gotten sugar smeared all over them. “Oh, my angel,” she rasps. “Like heaven on earth.”

And you think she’s done as you will yourself to sit up, offering a sweet smile as you pull her in to kiss again, fully intending on seeing if she tastes just as “delicious” as she keeps telling you that you are.

But she breaks her kiss and stands off the bed and to her feet. You sit back, watching her pull her blouse over her head as her eyes stay glued to your beautiful body. She slips her lacey, only-for-decoration bra from her body to leave herself in nothing but her slacks.

You gaze at her, taking in the perfect hour-glass of her body and gawking when she steps out of her slacks and presents you with the strap-on she’s been hiding all this time. She watches the way you stare at it, smirking to herself as she stalks back over to you, leaning on the bed with her knee. “You like?” she says.

You bring your gaze up to her face, swallowing thickly and feeling embarrassment warming in your face for staring. You just nod. She chuckles, cupping your chin with her hand and shaking her head. She thinks you’re adorable.

She slides the hand around to your neck, cupping you there and pulling you in for a kiss. You moan, leaning into her. “But what about you?” you whisper, pressing your hand to her side and stroking your fingers over the skin.

She shrugs, “Don’t worry.” You miss the small wave of her hand behind her back as she lets her magic wash over her, connecting her own pleasure to that of her strap as she’s done a million times before. But you don’t need to know that. You don’t need to know the extent of her inhumanity. It isn’t important to the pleasure she derives from getting to taint something as pure as you. “It’s double-sided,” she lies.

You don’t get to protest because her lips are already on yours again. She slides her fingers through your folds again, swallowing your moans as she lays you down on your back and spreads you wide open for her.

As you're distracted by her kiss, she thrusts inside of you with a deep moan. You break the kiss, laying your head back and letting out a whimper of your own as she fills you, stretches you open for her as your tight pussy adjusts. You whisper her name like a prayer, and she moans yours like a sin.

She gives you only a moment to adjust to her size before she's moving her hips, a slow and steady in and out as she gets herself used to the feel of you, and oh… You definitely do not disappoint as you squeeze her cock like a vice.

“Fuck, my angel,” she laughs to herself. “You're fucking perfect.”

You wrap your arms around her shoulders and savor the strokes of their cock inside you. “Please, Tasha,” you mutter.

She likes the way Tasha sounds. She's never been called Tasha before, her nickname has always been Nat. But the way it sounds falling from your lips, like a spell seeping into her skin and pulling her under your enchantment.

And it's hard to deny you when you look as precious as you do.

Her cock slides in and out of you in long, slow strokes as she fills you to the brim. You bite down on your bottom lip, your eyes closing as you breathe long, heavy sighs at the feelings she thrusts into you.

The desire for you, the desire to tear you apart invaded every little crevice of her being as she lost herself to more and more of her urge to fuck you desperate. She wants to hear your angelic voice beg a demon to fuck her nice and deep. She wants to see you fall apart, become a sinner all for her.

She grips your hips tightly, her rough thrusts no longer forgiving as she decides to take you how she wanted. You moan and whimper as your legs climb her waist until they're wrapped around her. She holds your thigh and just keeps thrusting.

You stutter her name, your capacity to remember anything else already slipping. She thrusts into you with all the passion in the world.

And then she pulls out at the pique of your wanton moans. You mewl and uselessly grab at her arms and waist. She separates from you with a sigh and ignores your attempts at bringing her back in, turning you on your stomach instead.

She thrusts inside without another word, filling you up from behind as you let your head hang. “There you go,” she husks. “That's better. Now I can fuck you like a whore.”

You moan, gripping the sheets and letting her do as she pleases. She keeps fucking you, relishing in the building sound of her hips smacking against your slick skin, the sound of you practically crying at the feeling of her fucking you so roughly making it harder to hold back.

“P-Please,” you stutter, clenching harder at the feeling. “Please don't stop. You're…amazing.”

Your gentle praise spurs her on more than she'd intended. She presses her finger to your clit and begins to rub fast, tight circles over it. She wants to feel you come undone. The more you cum on her cock, the more tainted you become with her darkness.

Her cock spears into you, pulling the dirtiest sounds from you as they echoed in the room—skin on skin, wet against wet. Your mouth falls open and you let out breathless cries accompanied with their own pleasured tears as they slip down your cheeks.

It feels so good, and you're going to cum.

You feel your body getting ready for it, building up higher and higher until you can do nothing but moan Natasha's name and shake upon your crashing release.

“Tasha,” you whine, dragging the last syllable out and breaking off into a pathetic moan. She keeps fucking you, groaning roughly as you clench so tightly around her. You gush and moan and she can't help but to fuck you just a little harder.

And when the orgasm melds to a little tremble, she keeps going. One of her hands wraps around your throat, tightening just a bit. She likes to feel her veins thumping under her palm, she likes to feel your life in her hand.

And apparently, so do you as you wrap your hand around hers and hold it securely there. Her eyes close as your pussy tightens, her thrusts become rougher as your moans become louder. She is going to make you cum again, she's set on it.

Your legs are a trembling mess, your arms are slowly dwindling in the strength they need to hold you up. “Please,” you mewl again. “Please don't stop, Tasha. I need you so…fucking bad.”

She feels successful. That's the first time she's heard you curse, and she's so excited to have spoiled your tongue with such a word. She rubs your clit again, wanting to reward you.

“I want you to cum for me again, angel,” she rasps. “All over me. Come on.”

Her thrusts are becoming sloppy, so absorbed in her oncoming release as she readies herself for your own. She pulls you back to meet her thrusts, rough and fast and deep as she continues to build you up.

You moan loudly as the pleasure builds and builds until it snaps. You throw your head back, crying out as you cum with the tight squeeze of your cunt. The warmth and the wetness of your pussy is too much as Natasha follows after you. She moans deeply in her throat as she grinds roughly inside of you, burying her cock in your pussy as if she was cumming in you to give you a deeper taint of your purity.

You allow your arms to give out as you fall forward onto the bed and muffle your moans into the sheets. She keeps gripping your hips tight, still riding out her high as she moans your name and lets out a string of curses.

Your whole body is shuddering by the time both your pleasure is reduced to tiny spasms through your limbs. She thrusts her hips a couple more times before pulling out of you with a long sigh.

You roll onto your side, lazily lying there as you glance up at Natasha with heavy eyelids. She runs a hand through her hair and gathers herself, looking down at you as the pride shimmers in her eyes and her chest.

She watches you, smiling, though she can't help a prickle of confusion when she takes in the sight of you. You lay there, half-asleep and completely spent, bare and vulnerable and exploited by her darkness.

And, yet, you look every bit like an angel as when she first met you. You look just as sweet, smell just as sweet, smile at her just as sweetly.

“Thank you,” you whisper sweetly. She watches you, watches as you pat the spot next to you and cast your innocent eyes on her.

And she's curious, so she lays down where you offer her a spot. Then you cup her cheek with the palm of your hand and kiss her, a long and slow and gentle kiss that Natasha becomes conflicted with as she leans into it.

Then you wrap your arms around her body and pull her in tight so she can't escape—or, she could… but she won't. All that time spent trying to corrupt you, and you're still the virtuous little angel she met at the coffee shop, cradling her in your arms and kissing her forehead and thanking her for the night of passionate fucking she'd just given you.

There is a warmth in your arms that Natasha hasn't felt in a long time. She's not quite sure if she's ever felt a warmth like this. She leans into it, she feels herself succumbing to your purities, despite her best efforts.

Curious, she lets you hold her, even longer after you had fallen asleep as she could safely slip away into the night, never to see you again.

But, no… You intrigue her. She couldn't leave now, especially if there was still so much virtue left in you. She will have to stick around. Yes… she will have to keep you a while longer.

You are a rare delicacy. She couldn't let you go to waste.

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#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fanfiction #the avengers #avengers fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #10 days of smutmas

[writerslittlelibrary]

Don't worry about a thing

masterlist

summary: your parents needed the extra money, even if it meant making you work for it. what happens when two women disagree with your parents methods?

pairing: dark!Wandanat x teen reader, dark!Yelena x teen reader, dark!Melina x teen reader, dark!Bucky x teen reader, dark!Alexei x teen reader

warnings: alcoholism, dark Wandanat, dark themes, kidnapping, it’s kinda fluff as well

genre: angst, fluff

words: 2690

a/n: this kinda turned from dark!wandanat to a very soft fic. I mean, reader still gets kidnapped, but Wandanat are so sweet about it… :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

You had been working in the cafe for a while. Your parents needed the money, and to be honest, you needed it too. 

Your parents had been drinking since you were a young child, and you now you were a teenager, which means it is legal for you to work. Your parents didn’t hesitate to push you towards a job. With all their money going to alcohol, they needed your money for either food, or more drinks. 

On the side, you would save a little bit of money, trying to save enough to hopefully one day go to college.

Today it was a day like any other. 

You had just gotten back from school, and you went to the cafe immediately. However, this time was a little different. For the last couple of weeks, you had the weird feeling that someone was watching you. There had been a few people that asked about a lot of details from you, which creeped you out a bit.

At first, it was a red-headed woman. She looked to be around her thirties, and she was very kind. 

Then, there was a brown haired woman. She asked how you were doing, whether you were still in school, and also how you would be getting home. She seemed concerned for your safety. After all, it had been late that day.

Then, a blonde haired woman had walked in. She went into the cafe with a dog, and after ordering for herself and her dog, she offered to walk you home. You had told her that you were fine, and that your father was picking you up, but as usual, he hadn’t showed up. The woman insisted on walking you home, and you had allowed her. What was the harm, right? She was very kind and respectful, and her dog was nice.

After that, you had a week of boring people, as usual. People who didn’t give a single shit about your life. People that only cared about the fact that they had been waiting on their coffee for five whole minutes.

You figured you had just been imagining things, and that the three women you had met where just genuinely kind. 

However, after that week ended, weirdly invasive people started to come into the cafe again.

At first it was a man. He was wearing gloves, and he looked a little scary. His hair was brown, and he was tall and looked strong. However, when he ordered you decided he was actually very sweet. He talked with you the entire night, thanking you when you served him his drinks and food, and he tipped very well. 

A week later, this week, you spotted the red haired woman from a few weeks ago sitting at one of the tables. 

She wasn’t alone this time. The brown haired woman, who you had seen earlier as well, was sitting beside her. You walked up to them with a smile, pushing your odd feelings down and getting ready to serve them just like any other day.

The women smiled at you, and after giving you their order, they continued a conversation of their own.

You brushed your anxiety off of yourself, making their drinks and continuing with your shift. However, after serving them and getting back to another costumer, the man you had seen earlier walked in. He looked a little angry, but smiled kindly when he met your eyes. You smiled back, but before you could ask for his order, he went to sit down with the other two women. 

Again, you didn’t think much off it, rather just pushing the anxiety away and continuing with your job.

It started to get really weird, though, when the blonde haired woman walked in. She was accompanied by her fluffy dog, which didn’t hesitate to greet you with a wagging tail. You bent down to pet him, when you noticed a slightly red streak running along his fur. 

You went to brush your hand over it, but the dog retreated back to it’s owner.

She smiled at you and stopped at the bar, ordering the same thing she ordered a few weeks ago. After doing so, she went to sit down with the other man and women. Why did they know each other? Had it been a coincidence that you had all seen them before? Were they watching you?

You shook the thoughts from your head, preparing the woman’s order, putting some whipped cream into a cup for her dog, before bringing it over to the table. 

You put it down with a smile, grabbing the empty two cups and asking if you could get them anything else.

“We’re alright, sweetheart,” the brown haired woman spoke with a gentle smile.

You nodded and retreated back to the counter, ready to serve other costumers, before you realised, there were no other costumers.

The entire cafe was empty, minus the four people sitting in the corner.

Odd, this was usually such a busy time. 

You didn’t think much off it, rather deciding to start cleaning up a bit in the hopes of getting home earlier tonight. When you were about to shut off the coffee machine you heard the little bell ring, indicating that another costumer had walked in.

You turned to look at them, discovering that it was a tall, large man. He had tattoos covering his arms, and a long beard. He was followed by a woman, who smiled at you before she pulled the man over to the table where the other people were sitting. You hadn’t seen them before, but you did find it odd. 

When your colleague told you she was heading home for the night, you agreed to closing up, telling her to get home safe. 

After she left, you glance over at the table impatiently. They had been sitting there for hours, and you wanted to get home on time tonight. You still had a few tests to study for, and there was a project you were supposed to hand in yesterday.

You stood impatiently at the counter until the blonde woman walked up to you. You had hoped she wanted to pay, but instead she simply asked for a donut. 

You hid your annoyance and got her what she wanted, smiling at her when you handed the sweet treat over. 

“How are you getting home today?” she asked as she took the donut from you, taking a bite. 

“My father was supposed to pick me up, but I suppose I’ll be walking once again,” you replied, closing the treat cabinet. 

“I can give you a ride if you’d like. My parents are probably leaving with my sister anyway, so there will be a car left that I’ll have to drive,” she explained, giving her dog a few pets when it excitedly walked over to her. She snuck the dog some pieces of the donut while praising her for being such a good girl.

“That’s very kind, but I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you replied, not wanting to get into a strangers car.

“Don’t be silly. It’s no problem, I promise. A young girl like you shouldn’t be out on the street alone at this time. It’s dangerous, someone could hurt you,” the woman reasoned, and you thought for a moment before agreeing. 

It did seem dangerous to walk home alone in the dark, and this woman was very kind. There was no way that she would hurt you. 

“If you’re certain that it won’t be a problem…” you said, and you watched the woman shake her head.

“Of course not. Besides, Fanny would love the extra cuddles,” the woman explained, giving her dog, Fanny, a few scratches behind her ears. 

You turned around, missing the sign the woman gave to the other people at the table. They got up, walking towards the door. The red headed woman stayed behind, telling the others she would be there soon. 

She walked over to the counter, giving Fanny a few pets before pulling out her wallet. 

“I’d like to pay for the whole table, please,” she told you as she grabbed her card. You nodded and typed in the amount on the device.

After paying, she thanked you and walked out of the cafe.

“I’m Yelena, by the way,” the blonde woman said as she waited for you to close everything up. “I’m y/n,” you told her, locking the register and walking out from behind the bar.

“This way,” she said as she led the way out of the cafe, waiting for you to lock the door before opening the door of her car. 

You were about to get in before Fanny jumped into the car before you, settling in the middle of the couch chair. Yelena drove a truck, so it was easy to fit three people on the chair. You got in after Fanny, sitting beside her and petting her head when she laid her head on your lap.

Yelena got into the drivers seat, closing the door and starting the car.

“Here, you must be thirsty after working for so long,” she said as she handed you a bottle of water. 

“Thank you,” you thanked her as you opened it, taking a few sips.

“Who was your sister?” you asked Yelena after a little while. She turned to you with a smile, rubbing Fanny’s fur.

“The red head, Natasha. She’s my sister. The big guy, with the long beard, that’s my dad, and the woman with dark brown hair is my mom,” Yelena explained, focusing back on the road. “The cafe you work at is close to our work space, so we come there a lot, but we’ve never been there together.”  

“What kind of work do you do?” you asked her curiously.

“We take care of business. Make sure people pay… taxes… that sort of stuff,” Yelena explained, although she weirdly paused before mentioning taxes. You nodded, focusing on the world outside.

After a few minutes of silence, you started to get a bit dizzy, grabbing onto the dashboard to steady yourself as black spots took over your vision. 

“Everything alright?” Yelena asked, concern lacing her voice.

“Just a little dizzy…” you explained, taking a few deep breaths in the hopes of clearing your vision.

“That happens sometimes after doing a lot during the day, especially for girls your age. You should drink a bit more water and take a few deep breaths. It’ll pass,” Yelena told you, and you nodded as you gulped the leftover water in the waterbottle down.

You sat back, taking a few deep breaths and looking out the window, suddenly noticing the road you were at didn’t look familiar. 

“This isn’t my street…?” you asked Yelena, who merely shrugged.

“There is construction that way, so I figured we’d avoid it,” she reasoned, turning on her turn signal and steering into another unfamiliar road. 

You were about to protest, but the spots in your vision took over nearly everything, and you suddenly felt to dizzy to talk. You tried to say something, but you couldn’t even remember what happened after as you lost consciousness completely. 

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

You groaned slightly when you woke up, the sun blinding your vision as you covered your eyes with your hands. You turned around in the bed, pulling the covers a little higher a closing you eyes again, fully prepared to go back to sleep.

Suddenly, you sat up in a fright, looking around the room and taking in you surroundings. You never got home lat night. 

You don’t remember anything past the points of being dizzy. 

You threw the covers away, standing up from the bed, ignoring the slight dizziness as you walked over to the window. As soon as you pulled the curtains open, all you could see was snow. What the actual fuck. It never snowed where you were from.

You ran towards the door, surprised when it opened immediately. 

You looked out into the hallway, making sure it was clear before you made your way downstairs. You could hear chatter coming from what you assumed was the living room, and so you tried to go around it, heading towards the front door, or atleast, what looked like the front door.

You almost thought you weren’t spotted, until you heard a voice coming from the living room.

“If you’re going outside, don’t forget your boots and jacket. Winters are very cold around here.” 

You stopped dead in your tracks, frozen in place as the voice spoke so casual. If she knew you were leaving, why didn’t she try to stop you? You hesitated a moment, unsure of what to do as you looked at the rack of shoes. Your shoes were there, together with a vast variety of boots.

“If you’re hungry, there is also some breakfast,” the voice spoke again, and you took a deep breath before deciding to follow it.

You walked into the living room, seeing all five people sitting on a few couches. 

The red headed woman, Natasha, was sitting at the edge of the couch with the brown haired woman beside her. Natasha was scrolling on her phone while the other woman was reading a book. 

After they noticed you arrived in the living room, the woman put her book away.

“Where am I?” you asked quietly, glancing over at Yelena who was watching something on the tv. You couldn’t understand the language, and you figured it must’ve been something slavic. 

“You’re home,” the woman smiled softly, getting up from the couch and reaching for your hand.

“We figured we’d let you sleep in, so I put some breakfast in the fridge for you,” she explained as she led you towards the kitchen, letting go of your hand and opening the fridge, pulling out a plate of waffles. 

You went to sit down at the barstool, leaning on the kitchen island, debating on what to say next. 

“Who are you…?” you asked hesitantly, afraid to upset her.

“My name is, Wanda, but you may call me mom, and Natasha is mama,” Wanda stated simply, squirting some whipped cream on the waffles before topping them off with some fresh fruit.

“... What…?”

“I understand that it may be a bit confusing, but I promise you you will be happy here. We will make sure you will never have to worry about anything another day in your life,” Wanda explained, smiling as she put the plate of food in front of you. 

“What about my parents?” you asked, and Wanda just smiled.

“You don’t have to worry about them hurting you ever again, I promise.” 

You nodded slightly, staring at the plate of waffles. 

“So you kidnapped me?” 

Wanda chuckled a bit, sitting down across from you and pouting you a glass of your favourite juice. “I guess you could call it that, although that is not our intention. We love you, and we’ll show that to you,” she explained, putting the glass of juice down in front of you. 

You hesitated before you felt your belly rumble in hunger, staring at the plate of waffles for only a second longer before you dug in, enjoying the amazing tasty treat. 

“Why me?” you asked after taking a breath, taking a sip from your juice and staring at Wanda. 

“You are special. You might not understand it, but you are special, and we love you. You are perfect,” Wanda explained, smiling as Natasha joined you in the kitchen. 

“Don’t worry about it too much, malysh. You will love it here, and you will have everything you could dream off,” she said, giving you a kiss on your forehead. She reached over to the cabinet, grabbing a glass and filling it with some juice as well. 

“If you want, I can take you outside later, or you could explore the house a little if that’s what you prefer,” Natasha suggested, and you nodded.

“Okay,” you simply said, taking another bite of your waffles.

You were confused beyond comprehension, yet for some reason, you felt safe. You knew you were safe, and for the first time in your life, you felt content. 

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @n0txn3vee @lorsstar1st

#black widow #marvel #natasha x reader #mcu #natasha romanoff #avengers #natasha x reader platonic #natasha x daughter #marvel reader insert #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wandanat #wanda maximoff #dark yelena belova #dark!natasha x reader #dark natasha x reader #dark!natasha romanoff #dark natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x daughter #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x reader platonic #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #melina vostokoff #alexei shostakov

[esmerxyaugusta]

y/n: do you ever wonder where birds go at night or where they live?

nat: no.... but they live in trees... i think..

y/n: well guess what! i never think abt birds and when i do.

y/n: i feel like birds just un-spawn at night and respawn in the morning and annoy us to our deaths...

nat: ......

i was thinking abt this in the car before...

#source: unknown #source: my brain #marvel #natasha romanoff #incorrect quotes #black widow #marvel incorrect quotes #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel cinematic universe #y/n #gn reader #black widow incorrect quote #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #fem reader #female reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #male reader

[a-spes]

| PRETTY FACES, DARK SOULS - part two (4.070 words).

| Summary - you rob the wrong person, and she makes sure that you pay your debts, willingly or not.

| Tags & warnings - Men & minors DNI, Dark CEO!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader, nothing else for the moment (I think?)

| MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| part one. part two.

When Natasha realised that you left nothing to her, taking even her cheque book, she had to call her sister, asking her to come and pay for her. Even if she tried to be as nice as she could in such a situation, she couldn’t keep her words from being harsh.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she had felt so humiliated. Natasha Romanoff, known as one of the most successful entrepreneurs of her generation, having to explain to the waiter that she can’t pay, having to ask her sister for money. It is something that shouldn’t have happened, something that needed to be repaired. 

If one thing was sure, it’s that Yelena has not been happy to be woken up by her sister’s bad mood, but she complied with her request without questioning it, knowing better than to argue with her eldest. 

“Don’t you dare to say a word", she warned when she eventually saw the blonde approaching the table.

She had been sitting here for almost an hour, waiting for her sister who decided to take her time. It was a childish way of avenging the brutal awakening she underwent, and the redhead would certainly have laughed if she wasn’t already irritated, and the youngest’s attitude only made it worse.

On the contrary, when Yelena saw her sister sitting at the table, she forgot about her bitterness, realizing how funny the situation was. She never could’ve imagined her sister calling her because she needed money. She is one of the richest people that exist on earth, and one of the most far-sighted at the same time. She always has her phone, at least two cards, her cheque book, and an absurd amount of cash, just in case.

The smile that grows on her face as she realizes how improbable the situation is earns her a slap on the back of the head, and Natasha never holds back her strength.

“Ouch!" She said, rubbing where she was hit, “it hurts!” She complained, but her sister doesn’t seem to care. In a second, the smile disappeared, giving way to a dark look.

“Shut up", the redhead said, rolling her eyes. She knows her sister as the back of her hand, and she also knows that the strength she put in that slap wasn’t enough to hurt her. She probably barely felt it, and is just too much of a cry baby sometimes. Something that’s pissing off the redhead that is in no mood for that kind of game. “Shut up, or you’ll learn what real pain is", she added, not even trying to hide the threat behind her words.

“You’ve no right to snap at me when I came all the way just to help you", she protested, and if they both knew she was right, her words were greeted by a simple sigh from the redhead who ran her hand over her face. No apologies, just silence. 

She couldn’t even remember the last time she witnessed her sister in such a state of distress, but she knows that nothing good came out of it. If she enjoys it when the oldest terrifies her men, she fears the incensed decisions she will inevitably make.

She could burn the whole city if she wanted to.

And Natasha has to admit that the thought crossed her mind a few times while she was waiting for the blonde to show up. She was barely able to control her anger, and couldn’t help but bounce her right leg under the table while her fingers were tapping on the table. But none of these actions helped to calm her nerves.

“I abandoned really important things, you know”, she added, as she took her wallet out of her pocket to put it in her sister’s hand. She had outstretched it toward her, and Yelena didn’t need words to understand what the redhead wanted. “All of that because you forgot your wallet …", she mumbled under her breath, but obviously the other heard it.

“I didn’t forget my wallet, it has been stolen”, she muttered, as if it could make the situation less embarrassing, as if she hoped her sister wouldn’t hear, but none of these statements turned out to be true. 

“You’re joking, right?” she asked back, not believing the oldest. “You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone if that’s the case”, she added, sure that her sister was lying to her in an attempt to hide what she probably considered as a weakness.

That’s what her sister always does. Most of the time, she is perfect, but when she inevitably makes mistakes, she always finds excuses. She blames her men, runs away, or pretends it has never happened, and Yelena feels like it’s exactly what’s happening right now. She is thinking that her sister has forgotten her wallet, but doesn't want to admit it. 

Maybe because the idea of Natasha being robbed sounds unbelievable.

“I am not lying, someone stole me”, she said again, and her sister better not make her repeat it a third time because she will really lose her temper this time. Everytime she said it out loud, it only made it a bit more real, as if she couldn’t quite believe it before. But the realization is now sinking in, and she feels like she is becoming crazy with all the thoughts that are crossing her mind at the moment. “They took everything", she angrily added, throwing the empty wallet on the table, only for the youngest to check.

And her sister was right. They took everything, not leaving a single penny. The blonde was so shocked that she didn’t even know how to react.

“But … who’s stupid enough to steal things from The Natasha Romanoff?” She managed to ask, once the initial surprise had worn off, “and how did that even happen?” she added, looking at her sister who was now pacing up and down the terrace.

But she knew she wouldn’t get an answer, at least no today. Her sister was ignoring her voice, too busy mumbling things to herself, and she would probably be thrown over the edge if she interrupts, so she waited for them to be in the car to talk again.

She didn’t even complain when the oldest stole her keys, deciding that she will be the one to drive without even asking first. The blonde slipped in the passenger seat, muttering a few insults that Natasha pretends not to hear.

“So, what do you want us to do?” she eventually asked after they’ve been sitting in silence for a few minutes. She was looking at the redhead, the one who was staring at the road, lost in her thoughts. 

“Nothing,” she replied, and brought back to reality by the question, she started the car, trying to ignore the look of surprise on her sister’s face. 

“Nothing?” she repeated, “so you’re just going to let them go away when they robbed you?” she continued, and the lack of reaction from her sister made her want to shake her sister to get her thinking straight.

“Nothing yet” she corrected her, putting an end to Yelena’s protests. Despite what the other may think, she doesn’t intend to let the culprit be forgiven. It has never been her intention, and she knows exactly what to do to get every penny back.

When she notices the determination in the eyes of the oldest, she knew the next months were going to be interesting. She smirks at the thought.

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧

This time was the last. 

That’s what you said to yourself after every theft, and it has never been true, because you never earned enough to get out of this situation. What you were stealing was usually just enough for you to survive a few weeks, and even if you kept telling that to yourself, you stopped believing that it could become a reality. 

It was nothing more than a dream, you head knew it, even if your heart never stopped dreaming about a future brighter than your present. Every night, the day you would eventually be out of misery was the last thing you were thinking about, and you spent hours imagining how it would look like. 

You wanted an apartment that would be big enough to welcome the friends you would have made, and a job that you appreciate, but about which you would still complain. 

At first, it was only about stealing the essentials, a jumper or an apple for which you would feel guilty for days. It’s when you stopped fearing that someone would catch you that you’ve started to think bigger. The few people who witnessed your theft generally decided that they weren’t paid enough to come after you, a little girl isn't worth their energy.

The years have gone by, and if the number of your victims increased, your wealth hasn’t. That’s when you realized that stealing money from the tourists in the street was not what would give you a better life, and decided to go after the richest people on the earth, the ones that probably wouldn’t even notice if you’d taken a few hundred dollars from their wallet.

One day, you’ll be making so much money that you will be able to pay for your debts.

Slowly, this need to survive has turned into a need for a life where you would have something to call yours. You didn’t want something to eat, you wanted an apartment. You didn’t want stolen clothes, you wanted something bought with your own money. Even a cup or a pen would be enough, as long as you could claim it as yours. 

One day, you’ll deserve everything you have.

You stopped stealing almost two years ago, when you eventually raised enough money to start a new life, and the dream became a reality. It took you a lot of time and effort, but you eventually got exactly where you’ve been dreaming of being since your teenage years.

It was thanks to the inattention of this woman who hadn’t blocked her card when it was stolen, neither she declared her cheque book stolen, allowing you to use it as you wished for months. Usually, your victims are quick to solve the problem, leaving you only with the few notes you stole from their wallets.

But this time, you were left with more money than you ever had, more than enough to buy a ticket to another city, and still being able to buy essential supplies after. You could leave, rent a room for a few weeks, just until you find a job and get your first pay, you could even buy some new clothes, and you would still have enough money.

At first, you thought there was a catch, but the days have gone by, they became weeks, months, then years, and if the card and the cheque book never stopped working, nothing bad happened. No one ever knocked at your door, no letter got sent, and the feeling of dread you felt every time you paid has finally disappeared.

Maybe she forgot. Maybe she didn’t even notice. Maybe there was a problem that never got fixed. Maybe it’s just taking a lot of time. You have no idea, but you can’t help but wonder why, thinking about all the reasons that must have led to that situation.

It is fate. 

That’s what a part of your mind is whispering to you, and you ask nothing more than being able to believe it, the other part trying to understand the situation without being able to make sense of it. Even after two years, the question was still in the back of your mind, and you’re almost sure that you could still use the card if you wanted to.

But you don’t, because you made a promise to yourself. You swore that, the moment you would earn enough money to support yourself, you would stop using hers. It has been a bit more than a year since you found your job, and this part of your life feels so foreign now. The only reminder of your past is that box, where you’re keeping all the cards, cheque books, and wallets you once stole. The one that’s hidden in your closet, where no one could see it, not even yourself. The one that contains a past you want to forget about. 

You now have a job, an apartment, and you even made some friends on the way. They’re good people, hanging out with them makes you feel like you are too. They never asked questions about where you’re coming from, because they don’t need to know, they’re just appreciating you as you are. The grown-up version of who you were once.

When late at night guilt gnaws at your mind, you’re thinking about their compliments. When the sadness at the thought of your younger self never being loved that way, your memories with them remind you that you succeed to become someone that can be loved.

Someone that deserves everything she has.

There is only one person that had glimpses of who you were, and it’s Kate Bishop. Even if you’ve tried to keep your secrets away from her, it’s hard to do so when you’re spending all your days and nights with someone so curious.

Kate is a coworker, a roommate, but mostly your closest friend. It’s not because she understands you more than anyone else. It’s because she never makes a big deal of anything, and you know nothing you could tell her about you would change the way she acts around you. This girl is everything you want to be: free and happy.

Someone that doesn’t care about social norms. 

She would sneak into your room in the middle of the night just because she heard you cry. She wouldn’t even ask questions about the reasons behind the tears, only complaining about how thin the walls are, and how she can’t sleep because of that. 

She would go through your belongings when she needs something but she can’t ask you because you’re not home, only telling you when she gives the objects back.

She would answer your phone when it’s ringing while you’re in another room or your hands busy, holding the conversation as if the calls were intended for her. 

That’s how she discovered you were looking for a new place to stay. You’ve only been coworkers for a few months when she answered your phone. It was the social worker who called to tell you that you’ll have to move out of your flat within the next weeks because you no longer meet the criterias.

Your first reaction was to yell at Kate. It has been the first and only time you’ve done it, usually not minding when she does it. 

But this time it was different: you were scared. You didn’t know her a lot at that time, and you were fearing that this call would destroy the relationship you had started to build. You put so much effort into pretending that everything was fine, and had always been that way, that you thought the truth coming out would ruin everything.

She was the first relationship that you didn’t build on lies, at least not on the big ones. She also has been the first to be able to hold a conversation with you for a while. Not Lydia, or any name you might have borrowed by the past, but just y/n.

When you’ve spent your whole life lying, it’s not easy to know who you are.

It was a bad habit that you had a hard time quitting, still having the urge to lie about some details. Maybe to appear as a more interesting person, maybe because you are afraid to disappoint them. 

No, it’s because it’s comforting.

It’s what gave you a bit of hope, what gave you the impression that you had a normal life. You’ve never been interested in living the marvelous lives of your alias, you just wanted a normal one for you. Maybe if you tell these stories a lot of time, your mind will accept them as reality. 

Over the years, lying became more than a habit: it was an addiction. You felt bad every time you lied to the black-haired, even if it was only about small and insignificant things, like your favourite colour, but you couldn’t just stop. It’s only that day that you realised that it might ruin everything between the two of you.

Everything has been so easy since you met Kate. You never felt like you were too much, or in the wrong place, because she always made sure to integrate you into the team, and you’re still regretting the words that fell from your lips that day. 

She was the first genuine friend you’ve made, and that’s how you thanked her kindness, with snide remarks that she didn’t deserve.

For a minute, you saw yourself back there. In that lonely and miserable place.

But she didn’t get angry. Nor for the lies, nor for the horrible things you said. She didn’t look at you with pity, but with something that was closer to surprise, as if she couldn’t quite understand your reaction, but knew enough to not judge. That’s when she asked you to be her flatmate.

Kate was the first one to learn about your favourite colour, the real one, and all your daily habits. From your favourite thing to eat for breakfast to the time you get up, she knows things you never thought you would share with someone one day. Kate has been the first one to see y/n. The one that doesn’t wear any mask, the one that does not need to pretend she is someone else.

Then, it was your turn.

Tonight, when you’re looking in the mirror, the only thing you can see is your smile. A bright, and big one. Even with makeup on, you are not looking or feeling as anyone else than yourself. Every choice has been made by you to suit your taste. 

“Are you done yet?” She asked, and you could hear Kate’s muffled voice through the bathroom’s door, “we’re going to be late!” She complained for what’s probably the tenth time in the last quarter, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she was stamping her foot on the other side of the door, throwing a tantrum like a child.

“Isn’t it what celebrities are supposed to do?” you replied, a smug smile on your face as you eventually opened the door after spending more than an hour in the room. 

Everything needs to be perfect, and perfection demands time, something your impatient roommate doesn’t seem to agree with. The second you stepped out of the bathroom, she grabbed your arm.

“That’s not funny!” she exclaimed as she started dragging you toward the entrance. You couldn’t help, but roll your eyes at her attitude.

You know that the real reason behind her actions isn’t a concern for punctuality, Kate always being late, but just a result of her excitement for the evening that’s coming: some friends of hers are going to play music in a bar, and she doesn’t want to miss even a second of the show. A simple glance at the clock confirms what you were thinking: you’re not late. 

But you also know it’s useless to argue with the black haired woman when she is in that state of mind, so you just go along with it, letting your friend drag you toward the entrance. You have just enough time to grab your bag before you leave the apartment.

You are too focused on your footsteps to be listening to her rambling about the coming party, trying to not trip on your own feet. But she isn’t listening to you either, deaf to your pleas for her to slow down, or to let go of your arm, and it’s only when you arrive at the said bar that you get your freedom back. 

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧

She never forgot.

She has been thinking about what happened that night every day since. The years have gone by, but it never left her mind, and picturing all the ways in which she could get back what you owe her was soothing her to sleep every night.

Despite her impatience, she took her time, waiting for the moment you would’ve forgotten about her, when you would let your guard down, thinking that your past mistakes had been forgotten, and forgiven. Maybe your previous victims did, but she has nothing in common with these guys, and chasing you wasn’t about the money. It was about dignity.

She needed to make you feel the same shame that she had that morning. 

Some of her associates don’t understand her obsession, even her sister sometimes suggested that she let it go, fearing that it would jeopardize the company. But she stayed firm; you started a game that night, and she is not the kind that appreciates losing.

She is determined to show you that two can play that game.

It wasn’t difficult to track you down. The only obstacle had been the false identity you built for yourself, but it had only been a matter of months before she found you, there was no way she couldn’t recognize your face on the security tape. It was in the middle of the night, one of those where she couldn’t sleep, and eventually decided that she would rather look for you instead of tossing and turning in her bed, consumed by her thoughts.

That’s when she found it, a footage from a shop’s security camera where your face appeared. You were nothing like the woman she met at the party, from your hair to the way you were moving, you definitely had none of Lydia’s elegance, and she couldn’t even understand how you’ve been able to pretend to be her, and how you’ve possibly been good enough to fool her, The Natasha Romanoff.

But despite the numerous differences, she was sure it was you on that video. There were details you couldn’t change, and the shape of your jaw was one of them. She could still see your face as she had you pinned beneath her that night, her fingers running along your cheeks, wishing that moment would last forever. 

Since then, she kept collecting these videos as a kid would collect cards, watching them regularly. The footage made everything make sense, and you seemed closer than ever as she kept hitting the replay button.

She had to admit that you are smart, but not smart enough, and everytime you used the card was one more clue guiding her in the right direction. At first, she was able to track your movements, it only took her a few more weeks before she discovered your identity, and more importantly, learned about your past.

A few weeks, that’s all it took, yet she had waited several years before going after you, deciding it was the right time only when you started building a new life for yourself. You moved to a city where no one knew your name, you got a normal job, and haven’t stolen since. You even made some friends. You got the life you have probably dreamed about since your teenage years, and she knew that perfectly. 

She also knew that the moment she would break your illusion of peace, and steal your hope of a better life, you’ll be heartbroken. Hopeless.

She saw how, as the years went by, you started to be less cautious, thinking that your past mistakes were nothing more than faded memories in your mind. She saw how you eventually stopped looking around every time you were going out, how you started opening up to your friends, seeming to forget about what you have done. 

But she didn’t forget, and she promised herself that you wouldn’t either. It’s only fair that you pay for your mistakes, isn’t it? 

She started the car when she saw you, and Kate, disappear round the corner. You were obviously out for the night, and it was the perfect opportunity. No one would pay attention to the disappearance of a girl, not in a crowded, dark place that reeked of alcohol and illegal substances.

| MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| part one. part two.

| tag list - @thalia-is-not-ok / @tobiaslut

#a spes writing #pretty faces dark souls #marvel fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow fanfiction #dark natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #reader insert #female reader

[softestqueeen]

slipping and gliding pt. 1

pairing: natasha romanoff x afab!reader

summary: When the Avengers spend a day at the local water park, you start to see a certain redhead in a different light. You’ve never had anything with a woman before, but Natasha doesn’t mind showing you what feels good.

warnings: 18+ MDNI!! semi-public sex, fingering, shower sex, inexperienced reader, shy reader, kissing, pet names (sweetheart)

wordcount: 2053 words

a/n: Yess, finally I’m writing something that’s wlw! I’ve wanted to do this for quite some time, and this is the perfect scenario. Enjoy <3

After a few incredibly stressful weeks, filled with mission after mission, Tony Stark decided that the Avengers needed a little break. So, he did what was every teenagers wet dream. (pun intended)

He rented out a whole water park.

Jup. The whole thing, just for the lot of you.

But you didn’t mind it. You could lounge around, eat for free at the buffet, and when laying in the sun got too hot you could go for a swim or try out the huge slide, which was the highlight of the park.

You, the other girls of the team, and also a few of the other SHIELD agents, like Maria Hill were lounging around, when you suddenly had the urge to go down that huge slide. It just looked like so much fun and you definitely needed an adrenaline rush that was not induced by the possibility of getting killed.

You got up, announced to the group that you would check out the slide and off you were. After a few meters you noticed someone joining you.

When you looked to the side you saw your colleague and good friend Natasha Romanoff falling into step with you.

“You can only use the slide with someone else. There are only swimming rings for two. But I’ll gladly go with you.”, after that the redhead sent you a wink and a smile. Only a small whispered ‘thank you’ left your lips before you looked ahead of you again and got lost in your thoughts.

Did she always look this good? This was the first time you noticed how smooth her hair falls over her shoulder or how beautiful the head looks that sits on that pretty neck. Her skin was flawless, and she looked like she just stepped out of a magazine. You could see why she was called the most beautiful Avenger.

Did you feel attracted to Natasha? No, that’s impossible. You’ve never felt something for another woman, nor had something with one and you and Nat were only friends! Why did she suddenly make you feel this way?

It seemed like it was only getting warmer and warmer and you were glad that you were about to go on that slide and get into the icy water.

The two of you were silent on the way up, the stairs seeming to stretch into eternity. But before you could overthink your feelings even more, the two of you arrived at the top and the instructor showed you how to sit down on the swimming ring.

Nat sat down into the first opening, and you sat down in front of her. You both laid down flat and you laid onto her, your head between her boobs and your lower back touched her most intimate parts.

Being this close to her made you feel some kind of way. You didn’t have too much time to think about it though, because in the next moment you were sliding down, and all other thoughts were gone.

You and Nat enjoyed the short but exciting ride, screaming in excitement . You hit the water and felt Natashas body covering yours before she smoothly slid up from you and dived to the surface. You followed after her and when you both resurfaced and made eye contact, you broke out into laughter.

It seemed like everything went back to normal, though you still couldn't get her out of you head and stop your racing mind.

You returned the ring and made you way back to the towels and lounge chairs. Once there you grabbed a towel and a fresh bathing suit.

“I’m going to head to the lockers, I need to put on a dry bathing suit.”, you told Nat before heading to the building where the lockers were. There were also showers and changing rooms inside of it, so all of it was easily accessible.

You entered the building and went to the showers. Putting down your towel and dry change, you were about to take off your bikini when you felt two hands grabbing your waist and turning you around.

You could just make out Nat’s face before she pressed you against the wall and pressed her lips to yours. You let out a surprised gasp before you got lost in her taste, her scent seeming to overwhelm you. She grabbed your waist again and pulled your wet bodies against each other before she grabbed your ass with her free hand. The sudden action made you gasp, and Nat didn’t waste this opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.

Her hands start to roam your body and you were getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

When you both pulled away, Nat whispered against your lips. “I know you want this too, sweetheart.”

You just nodded, not listening to what she was actually saying. You just wanted, no needed, to feel her lips against yours again. You put one of your hands on the back of her neck and the other one went to her waist.

You pulled her in and connected your lips again. Both your and Nat’s hands were now freely roaming and groping each other. You were sure that the wetness you were feeling did not just come from the pool.

You were kissing a little more before you felt Nat’s thigh between your legs, pressing up against you, stimulating your clit and making you moan into her mouth. She kept on moving her thigh and squeezing your hips, holding you in place. It didn’t take long before you felt Nat’s hand roaming again and wandering towards your middle.

You were quick to catch her wrist, stopping her from going any further. She pulled away and looked at you, puzzled, because she thoughts that’s what you wanted.

“I’m sorry Nat. I haven’t done any of this before.”, you told her while looking at the floor, not daring to look into her eyes that you were sure were filled with anger towards you.

But Nat was having none of it and put a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to meet her understanding and soft gaze.

“You’ve never had sex before? Sweetheart are you a virgin?”, she asked you without a hint of deception in her voice.

“Well, I had sex before, just never with a woman. I guess in that aspect; yea, I’m still a virgin.”, you answered with a sheepish smile and a blush on your cheeks.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good. Trust me.”, she whispered against your lips before she kissed you again and you believed her every word.

She kept pressing her thigh against you and you slowly started to meet her thrusts and grind down on her, slowly gaining more confidence.

Her hands started roaming your body again, while you were still holding onto her neck and waist. Her hand was slowly wandering towards your core again, but before she touched you, she pulled away.

“Is it okay when I touch you here, sweetheart?”, she asked you.

You just nodded before pressing your lips against hers again.

Her hands travelled towards your wet pussy, going under your bikini bottom. You let out a soft gasp when you felt her hand moving between your folds. She tested out the waters by spreading your wetness around, caressing your folds before making contact with your swollen clit.

Feeling her at your sensitive clit made you moan into her mouth. The kiss wasn’t as heated anymore but slowed down felt more intimate. Her thigh stopped pressing against you now that her hand took over.

She removed her hand and pulled away, making you whine and chase her lips.

“Patience, sweetheart.”, were the only words that left her mouth before she opened the strings on your bikini top.

Her thigh went back to your cunt, stimulating you while she started caress your boobs. She slowly traced them with featherlight touches before she went over to straight up groping you. You let out moans and whimpers at the stimulation you were getting both from her thigh and her hands.

Her hands on you felt incredible and you wished you could feel her on you forever. She leaned forwards and started to trail kissed over your boobs and over your sternum. Your hand moved from her neck into her hair when you felt her lips on one of your perked nipples.

She slightly sucked on it and circled her lips around it, just how you imagined she would do it with your clit. The thought of her mouth on your cunt made a new flood of wetness rush to your core.

She repeated the same treatment on your other breast before she completely pulled away.

“How about we take this to the shower?”, she asked you with a smile on her face.

“That sounds good.”, you answered her, but you were quickly left speechless when you saw Nat taking off her black bathing suit.

She was breathtaking. She was always beautiful but seeing her completely bare was something else. The soft curve of her breasts and hips, her toned stomach and legs that seem to go on forever.

She took your hand in hers to lead you to one of the showers and once she turned around you could see a small tattoo adorning her lower back. That simple fact made her seem even more human and vulnerable, the fact that under that beautiful façade was a human being that had gone through so much.

But once she put on the shower and you felt the droplets of water gliding down your bodies all other thoughts were erased from your mind. All that was left was the sight of Natasha under the stream of water, momentarily closing her eyes to feel the warm water.

You joined her under the spray, pressing your lips against hers. She was quick to press you against the wall again, immediately taking over.

The kiss got more intense, and her hand went to your pussy again. She started to slide between your folds and circled your clit, finding a steady rhythm.

Once you’ve gotten used to the feeling of her hand against you, Nat took it a step further. With her middle finger she entered your tight pussy, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. She slowly started to pump her finger in and out of you, slowly adding a second finger while her thumb was stroking your clit, and her other hand was groping your ass. Your hips were moving against her hand and your wet bodies were pressed together, gliding over each other, the steady stream of the water only made it more sensual.

When she added a third finger you could feel the coil in your stomach starting to tighten. Nat could feel you clench around her fingers and started pumping them faster, also adding to the pressure on your clit.

You came with shout that was muffled by Nat’s mouth, while she was gradually becoming slower, helping you through your orgasm.

Once you calmed down, she pulled her fingers out of you and gently cupped your face. She pecked your lips before pulling you completely under the stream of the shower with her. She left for a moment, getting some shower gel that was provided and started washing you, her hands gliding over your body making you all worked up again. She lathered shampoo into your hair, massaging your scalp and making you melt into her hands.

Once she was done, you felt the urge to feel her body again, so you gave her the same treatment; gently washing her body and her hair.

Nat pecked your lips once again, before turning off the shower and getting a towel, drying your body and hair before doing the same with herself. Both of you got dressed in some dry clothing.

But before the two of you left the locker area, Nat turned to you.

“How about we cut this little trip short and continue with what we started, sweetheart?”, she asked you, a breathtaking smile on her lips and no shame about her suggestion.

“There’s nothing I’d rather do.”, you truthfully answered before taking her hand in yours, excited about what she has in store for you, once you were back at the tower.

a/n: i'm thinking about writing a part 2, so please tell me if you's like to see/read one. i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueen

part 2

taglist: @silvermagnolias @milywatermelon @BigBananaa

#ao3 #love #fluff #marvel #mcu #x reader #no y/n #reader insert #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #black widow #avengers age of ultron #natasha romanoff x reader #water park #wlw #lesbian #queer #lesbian natasha #i wish that was me in rl

[lots-of-pockets]

Touch starved

Pairings: Natasha x reader

Words: 2497

Warnings: none

Summary: It’s no secret that Natasha is extremely touch starved, but was far too shy and stubborn to admit it. She constantly makes up excuses for you to hold her. Tummy ache. Head ache. It was only after a particular challenging mission do you finally catch on.

You look up from your phone when you hear your girlfriend sigh heavily from the other side of the couch. She’d been home from work for a little over an hour, and after catching one another up on your days, you’d both taken residence on your respective sides of the couch for your weekly movie night.

“You okay?” You ask quietly as you gently nudge her with your foot, and Natasha looks your way for a short second before nodding her head. Although you were a little suspicious with just how truthful she was being, you’d learned from months of experience it wasn’t worth pushing. With one last glance her way, you bring your attention back to your phone.

You were currently window shopping for books. It had been a while since you’d treated yourself to a new one. You manage to add three to your basket that sound somewhat decent before you hear Natasha sigh again, and you once again find yourself focusing all of your attention on her.

“That was a heavy sigh,” you note as you lock your phone and place it onto the coffee table, and the red head shrugs her shoulders. “You sure you’re okay?” You ask.

Natasha seems to hesitate slightly before she flickers her eyes over to you. “I just have a headache.” She murmurs with a forced smile, and you pout slightly as you hold out your arms. The way Natasha’s eyes light up fills your stomach with butterflies, and you easily welcome her into your embrace when she crawls into your arms and settles on top of you.

Her head ends up nestled just underneath your chin, and her arms circle themselves securely around your waist. You wrap your arms around her before beginning to gently trail your hand up and down her back, your lips pressing softly against the top of her head in a tender kiss.

You feel her warm breath hit the skin of your neck when she lets out a soft sigh through her nose, and you find yourself holding her just that bit tighter.

“Skin.” Natasha murmurs against you, and you smile slightly as you reach down and slip your hand beneath her shirt to rest against the bare skin of her back. As you begin to make gentle circles, you feel her hum in content, and the smile on your lips was instantaneous.

*

It was just two days later that you feel the deja vu hit you. This time, you and Natasha were in bed, and the tv opposite playing a documentary about sea animals. It had captured your attention almost immediately, your inner nerd shining through, but Natasha’s mind, you noticed, appeared to be completely elsewhere. Her eyes were on the tv, but you could tell she really wasn’t paying attention.

“Nat?” You question, resting a hand on her thigh and giving it a soft squeeze. The red head hums as her eyes flicker over to you, and your lips quirk up into a soft smile as you reach up to give her cheek a soft touch. She seems to instinctively lean into the affection “You okay?” You ask.

That same hesitation on her face was visible almost immediately.

“Stomach ache.” She murmurs, sending you a strained smile. Something about her tone tells you she wasn’t being entirely truthful, but you knew she had no reason to lie so it must just be your tiredness getting to you.

“C’mere.” You murmur, sliding down in bed a little and holding out your arms. Natasha seems to relax instantly as she scoots herself over and falls into your arms, her arms securing themselves around your waist as yours circle easily around her shoulders.

You press a soft kiss to her forehead before bringing your attention back to the tv, your hand beginning to absentmindedly trail up and down her back.

“I love you.” You hear her murmur almost bashfully against your chest, and you smile softly as you return the sentiment. It wasn’t often that Natasha speaks those three words, but you knew without a doubt she loved you as much as you loved her. It was in the things she does and says.

Have a good day at work. Drive safe. A soft embrace and a gentle kiss against your cheek.

For so long she had fought the affection you’d give her. She’d go rigid beneath your touch. Make up an excuse to leave the room the second she saw you coming. She’d lived under the motto that had been installed in her from the mere age of six for so long that it was a hard habit to break.

Love is for children. It makes you weak. I don’t deserve it.

Those walls were still there sometimes. She still hides herself away when things get too much, but those days were now thankfully now few and far between.

You let out a soft sigh as you hold your girl close.

You don’t think you have ever loved anyone more.

*

You hum lightly beneath your breath as you stir the pasta sauce on the stove, the corners of your lips quirking up into a soft smile when you hear the distinct sound of your front door opening and closing signalling your girlfriend was home. Natasha had been away on a mission for two days, and you missed her more than you could ever bring yourself to admit.

“Baby? It that you?” You call as you turn down the heat, wiping off your hands on a clean hand towel before going to investigate.

You were met with the sight of a tired looking Natasha still dressed in her blackwidow suit kicking off her boots, and you pout slightly at the sight as you immediately head over to her and pull her into her arms. She immediately falls limp against you, so much so that you practically end up holding her up.

“Did everything go okay?” You ask in a quiet murmur as you bring your hand up to cup the back of her head, and she just barely nods against you as her arms tighten around your waist.

“Any injuries?” You push, a little concerned at how quiet she was being.

Natasha nods slightly, “Just a sprained ankle.”

Despite her words, you couldn’t help but smile. Gone were the days that she’d hide whatever injuries she had from you, and though she didn’t outright tell you when she was hurt, she never lied when you asked.

“Let’s go get you sorted. I have dinner ready for when you’re done.” Deciding that you didn’t really want to let her go, you simply bend at the knees and place your arms beneath her behind before lifting her up into your arms. Though Natasha startles slightly at the action, she doesn’t hesitate to loop her legs lightly around your hips and allow you to carry her through into the bathroom.

You gently place her down onto the closed toilet seat and leave her to get undressed as you head through to your shared bedroom to grab her some clean clothes. When you make it back, she was clad in nothing but her bra and underwear, and you smile slightly at the sight as you grab the first aid kit from beneath the sink before kneeling down in front of her.

You don’t need to ask which ankle it was. Her right one was significantly more bruised and swollen than the left, and with a small frown, you grab an ace bandage and begin to carefully wrap it up.

“We’ll get some ice on that after you’ve eaten.” You tell her as you secure the bandage with a safety pin, and Natasha nods as she lets out a quiet sigh before reaching for her shirt. Before you knew it, dinner was finished and you were on the couch with Natasha’s foot in your lap. You were holding an ice pack to her ankle whilst she stares up at the ceiling, your finger tips grazing up and down her bare leg.

Natasha seems to relish in the feeling of your touch, but with the way she was constantly shifting in place you knew she wasn’t as comfortable as she seemed.

Getting an inkling as to what was wrong, you replace your lap with a pillow before scooting out from beneath her. You crawl up her body before curling yourself up next to her, throwing a leg over her hips and resting your head against her shoulder.

“Better?” You ask quietly as you slip your hand underneath her tank top to rest on her bare stomach, and you feel her nod ever so slightly.

You end up falling asleep on the couch, only waking up in the early hours of the morning when you feel Natasha shifting beneath you.

“You okay?” You murmur hoarsely as you climb off of her and attempt to rub the sleep out of your eyes, and Natasha nods as she sits herself up.

“Gotta pee.” She murmurs with a tired smile as she rises to what feet, and you immediately return it as you watch her limp away.

Man she was so cute.

*

For the next few days, Natasha seems to milk her sprained ankle. She doesn’t outright say so, and you knew she was trying her best to be subtle, but after knowing her for so long and being able to read her cues, that black widow mask she puts on was no longer so effective allowing you to see right through her.

Her ankle was fine. Hell, Natasha operated with ease with busted ribs and had done so many times before. That wasn’t even mentioning the amount of times she’d been shot and was still able to make it back to the quinjet without help.

It tells you that she was simply using her ankle as an excuse to earn affection. It breaks your heart that she didn’t have the courage to simply just ask you to hold her, but you similarly do not have the courage to call her out on it because you knew how much it takes for her to allow herself to be vulnerable with you.

You didn’t want to break that trust. And you could also be wrong. Maybe her ankle really was bothering her. Maybe the tummy aches and head aches were real too and you were just overthinking things. But what if you weren’t?

As you eye Natasha from your place against the kitchen island, you put your plan into action.

Mission Natasha was underway.

*

The next day, almost like clockwork, Natasha gets all quiet again. You ask her what was wrong, and when she tells you it was just a headache, your suspicions grow. That, however, does not stop you from wrapping her up into her arms and holding her close, and you so without any hesitation.

It happens again two days later, except for this time, it was a back ache as opposed to a headache or stomachache. You offer her a massage, but she turns it down with the excuse that it didn’t hurt that bad.

She, however, does not turn down the offer of a hug, leaving you now one hundred percent sure. All that was left for you to do was find the courage to talk to her about it, and you dreaded the response that would greet you.

*

The opportunity ironically arises the very next day. Natasha had yet another headache and was currently sprawled out on top of you. It was silent with the exception of the dull murmur the movie playing on the tv was emitting, and though it takes you a while, you finally find yourself able to speak.

“You know you don’t have to be injured or hurting for me to hold you, right?” You murmur as you instinctively tighten your grasp around her, worried, at your words, that she’d try to get away.

Turns out your intuition was correct, because no sooner had those words left your lips, you feel her tense up before attempting to crawl out of your arms. She seemed to be acting upon instinct alone, and your heart breaks further.

“Sshh baby, no, don’t go. I’m not mad, it’s okay.” You rush to reassure, and though Natasha visibly hesitates, she eventually allows herself to once again fall limp against you again. You could tell she was still wary however, and you knew you had to be careful with whatever you said next.

“I love you,” you start as you bring your legs up, Natasha’s lower body settling in the gap that had been created. “And I absolutely adore holding you. You don’t ever have to be worried about me telling you no or pushing you away, okay? I promise.” You attempt to reassure as you cup the back of her head and press a tender kiss to her hairline, and though Natasha doesn’t say anything, you do feel her nod slightly against your chest.

With the knowledge she was now aware of how you felt, you decide it would be best to change the subject. She knew feelings on the matter, and it was up to her on what she chooses to do with them.

You could only hope she picked right.

*

About a week passes with no more excuses from Natasha. But that also means no cuddles either. You were admittedly a little worried, but as she wasn’t being distant with you and was her normal cheeky self otherwise, you decide not to question it.

It was on a random Monday whilst you were cooking dinner that something amazing happens. Natasha wonders casually into the kitchen and sends you a smile as she heads to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. You were under the assumption that was all she needed and was going to head back into the living room to carry on with the mission reports, just as she’d been doing for the majority of the day.

But she doesn’t. She takes a mouthful of the water before setting the bottle down, hesitating only briefly before sneaking behind you and securing her arms around your waist. You initially freeze in shock, but was quick to snap out of it before allowing yourself to lean back into her arms.

“Hi baby,” you greet casually as you place your hand on the ones she had settled on your stomach, giving them a soft squeeze. You knew not to focus too much attention onto what she was doing, because you knew she’d end up second guess herself and pulling away. “Dinners nearly ready.

“Hi moya lyubov'.” She murmurs, “sounds good.”

**

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I adored writing it 🤍

#natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #reader insert #natasha x y/n #black widow #fluff #natasha romonova #yelena belova #widow sisters

[unholyhelbig]

i would love a one shot of nat interacting w ronnie! maybe r is caught up doing a job for nat and nat has to pick ronnie up from school and domesticity w r ensues?

Title: The Carpool Lane [an Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: You get caught up while running an errand for Natasha and aren't able to pick your daughter up from school. You ask Natasha to do it and she has to grapple with some big feelings.

[a/n: Hello! I promise you all that the last official chapter of the Oversight is going to be posted soon. It is a very heavy one so here is some fluff in the meantime! Also, I'm opening my requests again, so feel free to send some my way.]

Warnings: None that I can think of other than horrible grammar, but please let me know if I need to add any!

Check out the full Oversight universe

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven]

The air in the home office had become sticky and cloying. It often did when the sun decided to shine as strongly as it did. Natasha kept her books clean and clear of dust but often times there was only so much she could do. Large particles floated in the crossfire of a golden glow. It almost pained her to wrench the window open and disrupt the flow.

It was difficult for Natasha to keep focus when she could hear the sounds from outside and feel the soft breeze on her skin. She was often known for her dedication, for her focus and her ruthlessness. But on afternoons, she was stuck doing mountains of paperwork when she’d much rather be doing you.

Natasha often drifted into hazed memories of the whimpers that escaped you, your breathless swears interlaced with the intoxicating way you moaned her name. She liked teasing you until you begged for her, until you needed her more than you needed breath, until you arched your back and cried into the thousand thread count sheets.

Of course, her favorite thing was to bring you to the very edge with her just her delicate touch and her sultry words. You’d come undone underneath her, coated in sweat and ready to please as an orgasm rocked through- an annoying ringtone.

Natasha had shoved her phone into the bottom drawer of her desk to gain some focus. It clearly wasn’t working. Her nails scratched across the rich oak of the desks surface before she pawed around.

Yelena had set her ringtone to the loudest, most obnoxious blowhorn she could find. She claimed that Natasha was losing her touch and often couldn’t hear anything past her own thoughts. And so, what if that was the case? Natasha quite liked her thoughts lately.

“Romanoff,” She drawled, voice dripping with annoyance.

“Hi,”

It took one breathless word from you and everything else was forgotten. There was worry in that single syllable and it made Natasha’s world spin for only a second before she got her bearings. She could do this. She was in charge.

“Tell me where you are.”

“You know where I am, you sent me here yourself.” You chuckled in a low whisper. Natasha had sent you to collect rent from your usual charges. She knew your pattern and could hear the low hum of the row of washing machines behind you.

While she prided herself on her ability to train you into the perfect protector with a quick hand a vicious tongue, she wouldn’t dare change a thing about your soft spots. You had particular one for the family that rented the apartment above the Soapsuds laundry mat and ran it seamlessly.

It was nearly impossible for you to say no to the elderly woman that took up residence with her son. She’d make you tea and you’d indulge in cookies as she regaled you with her charming stories from the 40’s.

“She’s a trained killer, ma, she doesn’t have time for this!”

Natasha heard the son’s accented voice muffle it’s way through the phone. She scoffed, and switched her phone to her other ear. You must have put your palm over the receiver because you were garbled too.

“I absolutely have time for this Miss Vazquez.” You returned to your conversation, voice whispered once more. “I don’t have time for this, Nat. I don’t want to break her frail heart. Could you possibly… pick Ronnie up from school?”

Natasha had been rendered silent, which wasn’t a feat that was often achieved in a shocking manner. Usually, if a Romanoff was quiet, they were busy calculating and it was better to avoid the storm brewing behind their eyes. This wasn’t the same kind of soundlessness.

She had to pick her jaw off the floor. Veronica was your entire life, and though Natasha came in for a close second, you would do absolutely anything for that child. You’d walk through fire, and it was testament to your growing trust with Natasha, having her pick your daughter up from school.

“Nat, baby” your voice came through the phone “did I lose you? If it’s too much I can get Darcy to take a later lunch. It’s not a problem at all. I shouldn’t have asked, you’re a busy woman and-“

“I’d love to.”

“Huh?”

“I can pick her up, y/n, really.”

Her palms started to sweat, and Natasha never sweated. She stood up and started to pace the length of her office, entering and exiting the large stream of light that vented in through the window. She listened carefully as you told her word for word how to enter the car line, and what mothers to avoid entirely.

“I’ll call ahead, let them know you’re safe to pick up Ronnie. Thank you for doing this, Natty. I appreciate it.”

She smiled, biting her thumbnail. She stopped at the window and peered out at the newly installed swing set at the edge of the property. So many little things had changed in Natasha’s life over the last year. There were children’s books strewn over the tables and art supplies that Ronnie loved to draw with. This was an extra step. This was the extra step that made her fingers itch for the ring hidden in the false bottom of her desk.

“Darling! Would you like to hear about the night I had with Robert Kennedy?”

“I would love to, Miss Vazquez!” You called back, lowering your voice once more. “I love you, I’ll see you at home. Dinner is on me.”

You had hung up the phone a few moments ago but Natasha kept it against her face for a few moments as if it were an anchor. She had to pick up Ronnie. She had to pick up Ronnie. Natasha was on her feet now, searching the large living room and foyer, and even the nightstands by her bed before she grasped at her keys and sprinted out the door.

Veronia was a girl of very little words, but she was comfortable enough around Natasha to curl into her side during movie nights, little fist clenching onto the fabric of her shirt. Most of the time, she’d fall asleep before the end of the film and Natasha would stare affectionately as you scooped her up and took her to her room.

Now, Natasha sat in the parking lot of the school with blood rushing past her ears. Somehow, the gaggle of mothers that lingered by the release doors were scarier than anything she had ever faced before.

She’d been shot at least four times and had survived them all. She had pulled the trigger herself more times than she could count, but all of curious eyes landing on her sleek black car made her nearly sweat through her t-shirt.

Natasha stalled as long as she could before taking the tentative steps across the asphalt lot. There was a small patch of green grass that seemed to be overwatered if it still held its vibrant color during a late heated day.

Her sunglasses were down over her eyes and she feigned looking at her phone, though she eyed each and every parent that lingered. They were openly staring at her, and she heard a few hushed whispers, absolutely no attempt to muffle their judgements.

“Don’t pay them any mind.”

Natasha startled, not noticing the woman that had sidled up next to her. Her skin was pale, her hair a pitch-black color that must have heated her up on a day like this. She stuck her hand out and Natasha took it carefully, shaking it. “Jessica Jones.”

“Natasha Y/L/N,”

The woman was apprehensive to use her own last name. While she kept a mostly low profile, there were still some people who would clock the name as something familiar. The last thing she needed was someone targeting you, or God-forbid, Ronnie. The words fit perfectly into her mouth like a sweet candy.

“I’ve never seen you around here before, and apparently neither have the vultures with the way they’re circling.”

She couldn’t help but smile “I’m… new. My partner got a little tied up at work and asked me to pick up her daughter.”

“Ah, so you’re that Natasha.” She must have flushed awkwardly, nervously, because Jessica seemed to backtrack. “Nothing bad. There are moms like the women over there who put their entire being into making everything perfectly beige. Then there are moms like y/n and I. Imperfect.”

Natasha’s eyebrows lifted. Each woman that flocked towards the front of the glass doors, waiting excitedly for their children to spill out did have the same look about them. They all wore leggings and different colored pastel shirts. Each one had the same highlights and haircuts, and apprehensive stares.

“We’re out here a lot together, and it was pretty obvious when things started to change for her. With you around, the smile actually reaches her eyes you know?”

The statement warmed Natasha greatly and made the box in her desk weigh heavier on her mind. Of course, she didn’t want to think too much about it, but she also wanted to make sure that you were happy, something you reassured her of over and over again.

Natasha opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by the barrage of tiny feet on the sidewalks and grass. There was a sea of runny noses and crinkled papers slathered in different primary colors.

A small boy with dark ringlets of hair crashed into Jessica’s legs clumsily and she let out a large huff of air in response, scooping him up into her arms. He had the most startling blue eyes like his mother and gave Natasha a gap-toothed-goofy smile.

Natasha was searching the crowd for your daughter. It wasn’t like she would call out, that was much too vocal for her and Natasha didn’t blame the girl in the slightest. Through the sea of kids, her eyes locked on Ronnie’s and she gave her an encouraging smile and a small wave.

Veronica’s expression lit up as she dashed the few feet that was separating them. Natasha had the foresight to lean down enough to dampen the impact of her hug. It was quite the rare occasion to be embraced by her, so she savored the spring scent of her.

“Your mama got caught up at work and asked me to pick you up.” Natasha explained, leaning back on her heel, she brushed a strand of hair behind Ronnie’s ear. “What’s that?”

Natasha gently pointed to the picture that was in Veronica’s hand. Her chest welled with pride at the drawing and she would say that it was miles better than any other kid she saw run out with their artwork. Yelena had been right; Ronnie had a beautiful gift that Natasha would pour everything into for as long as she wanted to call it her craft.

This particular scene was a rendition of the large house, too big to fit within the confines of the paper. There was six figures that vaguely resembled each person Natasha knew and loved. A clear grouping had been established.

Kate was smeared in a purple color with dark locks of hair.

Yelena had been drawn next to her, hand and hand.

Clint stood close to them- but not too close- with his signature deep look.

What called to Natasha the most was how Ronnie had grouped her. There was a figure by the edge of the page that was clearly you, down to a tea, and a shorter figure right next to you that was unmistakably Ronnie. The two figures held hands; and on the other side, with her signature deep auburn hair and green eyes, stood Natasha. Her fingers were wrapped around Ronnie’s in the photo, too smudges of color that made the enforcers heart thrum harder than it ever had before.

“This is beautiful,” Natasha breathed, struggling not to let the water that built up in her eyes drip down her cheeks. That would be weird. It would freak Ronnie out. “I love it.”

“You do?” The girl asked.

“I do. In fact, it’s getting framed and hung up immediately.”

It was rare for Ronnie to speak, but it was a prize each time she did. Just like you, Natasha had begun to understand her body language and everything she said with her eyes. It was something she would grow out of, or maybe she would speak with just her art.

Either way, Natasha read her loud and clear.

It was well past ten pm by the time you had pulled yourself away from the laundry mat. You ended up eating dinner with the family despite your repeated refusal. It was some of the best food you have ever eaten and though you missed the quality time with Natasha, the vodka coating on the pasta would have you reeling for weeks.

The house was mostly dark by the time you returned, and you were careful when you let your keys drop into the dish by the door. A soft golden light streamed down the hallway, leading to the kitchen.

Natasha would often partake in a glass of red wine, a record playing softly in the background. It was her time to unwind, to do the dished from dinner and breathe out the stress of the day. Just like any office job. Sometimes she’d use the time to scrub away blood from under her nails as you waited patiently and took sparing sips from her glass despite denying wanting one of your own.

The sink wasn’t on, and the kitchen was mostly silent save for a faucet drip here and there. Natasha leaned against the counter and stared at the moonlit swing set in the yard. It was bathed in just enough pale light to make out the shapes drifting in the light breeze.

You came up behind her, snaking your arms around her waist and resting your head on her shoulder. She shivered against the coolness of your skin, but hugged you tight against her center with a comforting and raspy hum.

“Thank you for picking up Ronnie today,” you mumbled into the side of her neck, “And getting her to bed. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

Natasha turned in your arms and had a bit of a pout to her expression that you weren’t expecting. You lifted an inquisitive eyebrow at her. You wanted to kiss that frown right off her lips. You wanted to lull her into a state of content after the long day you’d had.

Almost timidly, she said “We’re a family. That’s what we do.”

God, how long you’d wanted to hear that. This time, you didn’t hesitate to close to the distance between you both. You kissed her softly; you kissed her with so much love that it left you dizzy.

You’d scared away partners before with the prospect of having a daughter. Most of the time, you wouldn’t’ even bring it up until a third date, when you were close to sure. But even then, you’d be left at the restaurant, or the bowling alley, or the movie theatre by yourself once the words left your mouth.

Nothing about your relationship with Natasha had been conventional, however, and each day she shocked you with her tenderness and care for someone she had no responsibility towards. Just letting you and Ronnie move in had been enough. Parenting her? Loving her? It felt beyond reality.

She chuckled into the kiss, running her fingers down your jaw. “I love you too, detka.”

“Mm, seriously, thank you.”

“Do you want to see something?”

You lifted your eyebrows suggestively and earned a light-hearted smack to the shoulder. She wormed her way out of your embrace and crossed the large kitchen to the fridge. When you’d first moved in, it was blank. There was a single wedding invitation tacked up with a magnet for joining the Murdock and Natchios families in matrimony, but even that had been years old.

Now there was something new.

Something that had unmistakably been crafted by Ronnie. The photo was a beautiful mix of colors and mediums and at the very corner in, in blue crayon, were two words; My Family.

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife@a-spes, @kyleeservopoulos]

#Natasha Romanoff #natasha romanov #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanov x reader #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Marvel Reader Insert #Clint Barton #Kate Bishop #Yelena Belova #Katelena #yelena x kate #Black Widow #Marvel #Hawkeye #Request #mafia au

[gogogodzilla]

day 16, toys

natasha romanoff x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, jealous!reader, use of ball gag, use of double-sided vibrator, reader has electricity powers, slight dom! natasha, takes place during Black Widow, afab reader kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

You rested your head against the cool glass of the window as Natasha drove you to a safe house she knew. You’d just lost the only family you ever knew, and the loss still stung deeply in your chest. 

She grabbed your thigh and rubbed soothing circles on it, bringing you out of your thoughts. 

“It’s beautiful out here,” you commented, giving her a small smile. 

“Just wait until you see where we’re staying,” she grinned, and the lilt in her voice made you nervous. 

You’d stayed in some sketchy places before, and maybe you’d gone a little soft lately. But, nervousness gnawed at you regardless. 

As Natasha drove, the area surrounding you became more and more desolate. She came to a stop down a winding path. Your eyes widened as you took in the small metal trailer settled in the middle of a clearing. 

Natasha got out of her seat as you sat bewildered. 

“C’mon, hun,” she urged before shutting the driver’s side door, pistol held at her side. You joined her with a sigh, electricity arcing through your fingers as the both of you approached the trailer. 

Natasha’s footsteps were silent as she stalked toward the door. She opened it with one hand and made her way into the trailer. You followed wordlessly as she scanned the inside of the trailer. Finally, she kicked open the door to the bedroom and chuckled at the man sleeping soundly in the bed. 

You raised a brow and she put a finger to her lips. She leaned over the foot of the bed and tapped the man’s foot, a smile dancing on her lips. He jumped up, eyes flicking between the two of you. 

“You’re in my bed,” she noted, straightening. 

“I’m not even under the covers,” the man defended himself as he slowly got up. He led the two of you toward the front of the trailer. 

They talked for a few moments, and you observed as the man explained all the facilities that came with the trailer. Natasha stood at the bar and thumbed through the various IDs the man provided for both of you. You stood behind her, looking out the window in front of the sink. 

A lull fell over the two, and he leaned in, “Are you okay?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Natasha answered, her voice wavering. You straightened and hovered protectively behind her. 

The man shrugged, “I hear things. Something about the Avengers getting divorced…” 

You scowled, and Natasha placed a placating hand on your thigh. Rick was someone you could trust, she’d said. He’d done her a huge favor by helping the two of you. Still, you didn’t like him poking around in your business. 

Natasha bowed her head for a moment. “It’s fine. Besides, I have all I need right here,” she said, snaking a hand around your hip. A warm feeling swelled in your chest at Natasha’s display of endearment. 

The man’s eyes flicked between the two of you. You’d never made your relationship known to the public, but you also weren’t exactly hiding your feelings for each other. 

“Well,” the man clapped his hands together, “seems like you’re all set. Don’t call me if you need anything.” 

The man headed toward the door, chucking a little at his own joke. You narrowed your eyes at his back as he walked to his own car. Natasha pulled you away from the door, shutting it and blocking your view of the man. 

“No need to get your hackles raised, baby,” she joked, grabbing your chin with one hand. 

You pursed your lips and tugged your chin out of her grasp, pouting. She pulled you to her, bringing you into a tight hug. You stood there for a few moments with your arms at your side. Finally, you relented and wrapped your arms begrudgingly around her.

She released you and pressed a gentle kiss on your lips. “I like it when you get jealous, babe,” she teased before heading out the door to grab your bags from the car. You rolled your eyes before following her. 

Later that night, you sat on Natasha’s bed going through her dresser drawers, curiosity and boredom pushing you forward. Your hand landed on an array of leather attached to a silicone ball neatly coiled in the back of the bottom drawer. Your fingers danced over the gag, insides alight with excitement. You lifted it out of the drawer and nearly jumped out of your skin as Natasha’s footsteps neared. 

She watched you from the doorway, a black plastic bag in one hand and a beer in the other. You raised a brow, “You use this on all the girls you bring here?”

She smirked and moved forward to grab your chin, “Only for your pretty little mouth.” She pressed the bag into your palm, took the gag from you, and set it on the dresser. The bed squeaked slightly as she sat next to you, “I figured that if we’re going to be out here for the foreseeable future, the least we could do is have a little fun.”

You were skeptical, but nonetheless opened the bag. Your hand wrapped around the smooth surface of the small cardboard box and you pulled it out. The box was white with a blue device on the front. You gave Natasha a quizzical look as you attempted to decipher the Norwegian on the back of the box. 

“It’s a vibrator, baby,” she chuckled and your cheeks flamed. Her fingertips flitted over the top of your thigh, and you weren’t sure if it was nervousness or excitement bubbling in your chest. 

The bed creaked slightly as you both shifted and before you knew it her lips were on yours. You’d thrown the box to the side, too focused on the taste of Natasha. The air around you crackled with tension, and Natasha’s hands drifted up to cup your face and bring you impossibly closer. 

You scooted back, your lips still tangled with Natasha’s as you reclined on the plush mattress. She threw a leg over your abdomen, straddling you and trapping you between her thighs. Not that you were complaining, of course. 

She gripped your chin and turned your head, allowing her to brush feverish kisses along the soft skin of your neck. Your breath caught in your throat as she sucked a lovebite against your pulse point, and your hands ventured under the hem of her shirt. 

She trailed kisses up the side of your neck. A peck on your jaw, then your cheek, and finally your lips. You sit up and tug her shirt up and over her head, your lips immediately returning to hers. 

Your hands snake around her back and undo the clasp of her bra, which she eagerly slid off. Your fingers trailed up to fondle her breasts, and her hips jutted against your own. 

You pulled away panting and tapped her thigh, “Let’s get these off.” 

Her lips curved into a smile, “Look at you being bossy.” Nevertheless, she hopped off of you long enough to remove her jeans. The bed sunk under her weight as she crawled forward and helped remove the clothes that were separating her from your flushed skin.

Natasha pushed you backward and hovered over you.

“So perfect,” she murmured as her eyes raked over your naked form. She moved to touch where she could, tracing her hands over the column of your throat, down to the valley of your breasts, over your ribs, then over your hip bones. A soft whine left you as she avoided everywhere you needed her. 

She tsked and leaned over you to grab the ball gag. “As much as I love those pretty little noises you make…” she trailed off, and you opened your mouth for her. She was gentle as she clasped the buckle behind your head. Your lips wrapped around the silicone ball, and you took a deep breath through your nose. She took the vibrator out of its packaging, her eyes glued to yours. 

 Her hands skirted over the insides of your thighs as she positioned herself between them. She hooked her arms around your thighs, keeping you in place. She pressed kisses along your inner thighs, and you bucked your hips against her grasp. 

She pulled you towards her and licked a tentative stripe through your folds. Your whine reverberated against the ball gag. Her fingertips dug into your thighs as she latched onto your core. You arched your back against the mattress as her tongue expertly circled your clit before dipping down to tease your entrance. 

You tangled a hand into her scarlet locks, aching for something to ground you. She kept her plush lips attached to your clit as she slid a finger through your folds, gathering your slick. 

Slowly, she sunk a finger inside of you and you gasped as much as you could against the gag. She pumped her finger a few times before swiftly adding another one. Her pace was brutal, quickly rocking her fingers against you while her tongue continued its ministrations. 

She pulled away and the whine that escaped you was almost pathetic. She placed a placating kiss on your inner thigh before grabbing the vibrator and running it through your folds. 

You bucked your hips and clenched against nothing, desperate for anything she’d give you. Drool was slipping out the sides of your mouth, and you huffed a breath through your nose. 

She turned the vibrator on and circled it around your clit, and your hips jumped against her. The vibrator quickly replaced her fingers inside you, and you felt your release rapidly building within you. 

Your breath caught in your throat as Natasha lifted her hips and lined the other end of the vibrator up with her entrance. She threw her head back and let out a soft moan as she sunk down onto the vibrator. 

She grabbed the backs of your thighs and snapped her hips against yours. You let out a breathy moan against the gag, and she reached down to knead your breasts. She trailed her fingers up to wrap lightly around your neck as she ground against you. 

Your moans were increasing in pitch and frequency, and the air seemed to crackle around you. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” she panted as her her hips stuttered against your own. You furiously nodded your head as that familiar coil tightened inside you, seconds away from snapping. 

You gripped her forearm as your orgasm ripped throughout your body. The energy within the air made your hair stand on edge, and a high-pitched whine escaped you as the ceiling light above you brightened and then blew with a loud pop. 

Natasha jolted against you but continued her movements as she followed you over the edge. Once pleasure edged into overstimulation she pulled out of you, panting. 

She turned off the vibrator as she slowly pulled it out of you. You arched your back at the loss, and she rubbed a soothing hand across your thigh. She hovered over you to undo the buckle of the gag. 

Natasha pressed a kiss against your temple and then your jaw as she set the gag to the side. “Did so good for me, baby,” she praised, trailing her fingertips up your side. 

“That was fun,” you grinned. Your gaze moved up to survey the damage you did to the light. “Got any spares?” 

Natasha laughed and shook her head, “Nope.” 

You pressed your lips together and nodded. “Guess we gotta head into town.” 

“Yep.” 

#natasha romanoff #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #marvel mcu #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff smut #reader insert #no y/n #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #natasha romanov x reader

[romancingromanoff]

Natasha: Pack your shit. We’re needed for a mission in Austr-

Yelena: Uh that might be a problem because I’m banned from Australia

Y/N: Wow how embarrassing. Couldn’t be me

Natasha: Actually we’re going to Austria so it doesn’t matter

Y/N: Wait but I’m kinda banned from Austria

Yelena: Wait what did you do to get banned from Austria?

Y/N: What did you do to get banned from AUSTRALIA????

Natasha: I hate you both

#natasha romanoff x reader #incorrect avengers #reader insert #yelena belova #natasha romanoff #black widow

[waaayoutofline]

When the Cat and the Mouse go for a midnight dance.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Tags: Agent Natasha x Criminal // Antihero Reader, violence, blood, murder and death, questionable moral reader, romantic insinuation (but not smut). Basically reader being a little shit and Natasha being tired of it. Fun and violent times :)

Summary —> Natasha has been chasing you, a fugitive and self claimed vigilante, for a while. One night, your paths cross again and you can’t help but to tease her a bit.

WORD COUNT: 2025

The sun’s warmth has faded, yielding to dense shadows that engulf the streets. Amid dark corners and treacherous alleys, fear triggers instincts, the sympathetic system heightening defenses and hijacking paranoia. Adrenaline kicks in, heart racing, body preparing fro any kind of danger looming around the corners.

And yet, you’ve always found a sense of comfort in it.

“Nah, I’m telling you, man, forget him. I’m not going back; that place is a hellhole.” a slightly drunk voice slurs, echoing against brick walls as rats scurry from dumpsters. A lighter crackles, followed by smoke drifting in the chilled breeze.

”Oh yeah? So, when are you telling him that?” Another scrawny voice asks with amusement. A silence, followed by a dry chuckle. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Smoke drifts slightly with the breeze, temperature drooping slightly.

“Shit, it's freezing out here.” One of the two complains.

The darkness the night brings…It allows you to hide. Yourself, your actions. From praying eyes. From the world. Perhaps even God if you are a believer.

“We’ve been safeguarding the warehouse for ages. What’s in there that he cares so much about?” he asks, taking another drag of his cigarette. For his voice, it was easy to guess he has had the nasty habit of smoking for years.

“Who knows. Drugs, guns, people…his usual shit.” His friend answers. “Honestly, I rather not know.”

You take the shot on your hand, leaving it on the trail before shaking your hair messily. A sigh scapes your lips as your hands pull down on your uncomfortably short dress.

“Whatever. I don’t give a damn as long as the money keeps flowing. Maybe he could throw in one of those spare companions of his.” The smile in his tone is evident.

“What? Want his sloppy seconds?”

“Oh fuck off.”

It allows you to either be the prey…or the hunter.

With practiced, seemingly haphazard steps, you maneuver your way toward one of the two men outside, their head turning immediately. “Woah there, sweetheart,” the one who catches you slurs, his hands immediately on your waist. His eyes darkening as he stares at you. “We wouldn’t want a sweet thing like you to hurt herself now, would we?” His breath reeks of bourbon and tobacco, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at how effortlessly this is playing out.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Your voice is sweet, innocent—a trap. “I’m so clumsy.” He laughs, revealing yellowed and crooked teeth.

“That’s alright, glad I was here.” A silly giggle, another stumble.

“Got lost?” His friend asks, currently behind you. “You shouldn’t be. There are dangerous people out here.”

At least he got that part right.

The shorter one of the two steps closer. “I was just looking for something. Think you can help?” you say, looking up with doe eyes. He appears foolish as he stares with a blurry gaze.

A whistle. “Sure thing.” You find yourself almost trapped between the two.

“Great, thanks.” Your voice returns to normal, and in a matter of seconds, you punch the one in front of you in the throat. His dirty, clammy fingers release you in panic to clutch his throat, emitting a pathetic choking sound.

“What the fu-” As his friend reacts, you swiftly turn around and knee him in the groin. He howls and crumples to the floor with a cry.

“You bitch-“ Douchebg A says as he swings, movement sloppy. You easily dodge, making him tip and fall over his buddie, the two grunting. With a sigh, you grab the collar of his jacket and drag him to the vent of the rooftop, slamming him extra hard for good measure.

He is about to strand up, but you punch him on his nose with all your strength, one, two, three times until blood drips all over his gray shirt. As his back drags down the wall behind him, you kick him full force on the face.Between the pain and the alcohol on his system, he remains seated.

Just as Douchebag B gets on all fours, you walk towards him and kick him on the stomach, making him drop to the floor once again. He rolls around, trying to get away but you grab his hair and slam him downwards.

Making sure both of them are now unmoving, your hands catch the dagger strapped on your thigh and the map. Douchebag B is still wheezing, with a concussion probably. Crouching, you shove the map on his face. “Alright. So, about that help. Point to me where the warehouse is.”

He grunts. “Like hell I’ll tell you.” He spits. A sigh escapes your lips.

”It’s never easy with you people, is it?” Flipping your dagger, you stab in the side of his lower thigh, making him yelp. “I’m not asking nicely again. Point it or I’ll take this out and you’ll bleed out in a few minutes.”

He sputters, shaking his head. You dig deeper and he lets out another cry. Dragging it down, blood starts to spurt, skin and muscle ripping. “Fuck okay, okay! Here, i-its here…S-shit.” His shaky hands marks a street, leaving a smear of blood.

You turn to watch Douchebag A. “Now, you are going to say the address. I hope for both your sakes that it matches.” He mutters it. A pause as your eyes scans the map.

You fold it, a satisfied little smile on your face and then you pull the knife out, getting away just in time to avoid a spurt of blood. “Uh, messy.”

His friends curses. You can see how his face gets pale, breaths becoming shallower as a pool of blood starts to surround him. “What the fuc- He told you! W-we told you!”

Wiping the knife with the soon-to-be dead man on the ground, you put it back in place and walk towards him. A pipe on the ground lifts as you step on it and you grab it.You pout mockingly. “Yeah, I guess you did. Don’t worry, I believe you.”

“Y-you sick bit-..:”

A swing. Two. A sickening sound of broken bones and then nothing.

The silence returns once again, only slightly disturbed by your soft humming as you go back on your steps, closing the rooftop door and returning to the dim hallways of the club. As you advance, the thrumming of the loud music beat alongside your racing heart, a mass of drunken bodies not giving a single fuck at the suspicious now maroon spot on your midnight blue dress.

Entering the bathroom, you swiftly change into your standard attire, concealed within a hidden backpack. Black jeans, a wine crop top, and a dark blue denim jacket replace the compromised ensemble. Glancing in the mirror, you prepare to rejoin the dance floor with a specific goal in mind—the bar.

Where a cute, striking bartender is apparently engrossed in serving drinks. You say apparently because you know that in reality, she is too busy searching for you. Opting to spare her the pursuit, you lock eyes, and your heart quickens for an entirely different reason.

Forest green eyes fixate solely on you, creating a euphoria-like sensation despite your sobriety. A subtle smirk materializes under the focused gaze, and with a gentle sway of your hips, you approach her slowly, almost teasingly. On your way, you accidentally get in the way of a woman, who ends up backing away on a body next to her. ”Oh, so sorry!” You call out with an easy smile, still not changing directions.

“What? Not using the “what is such a beautiful lady like yourself doing here out of all places” line?” You tease, sitting on the stool, resting your chin on your right hand. She scoffs.

”Oh please, we both know that the lady is fully aware of what she is doing.” Her voice is deep, a bit raspy. Her words are calculated and you just want for her to lose her composure.

With a playful tone, you note. “Hm, you didn’t deny the “beautiful”. Do you fancy me, Agent Romanoff?”

“Hm, perhaps. Only if only you weren’t a worldwide fugitive.” Natasha answers back, tone dripping with mockery.

”I’l take that as a yes.” She wipes a glass, your eyes tracking the simple yet effective movements. “So, tell me. How many to the party did you bring today? For your sake, I hope they aren’t rookies.”

Natasha scoffs. “The building is surrounded. If you come willingly now, it all would go more…easy. For both of us.”

A snort. ”Aw, and cut short this cute Tom and Jerry little game we have? Please. We both know you enjoy it just as much as me, Natalia.” Her name comes out in almost a whisper as you get slightly closer. Your words hang in the air, charged with tension. “Don't tell me you don’t reveal on the thrill of the chase.”

She chuckles, the sound rich and low. “You and your flair for the dramatic. But let's not forget the reality of our situation. You are a criminal, and I’m tasked with bringing you in.”

It’s funny, really. The way in which this banter is maybe the only thing that makes adrenaline rush into your veins, well that besides your job of course. Still, you can't help but feel amused by it. “Yeah, sure, because your buddies are going to stop me. Let’s see, then!”

Clapping with your hands happily, you turn around slightly to look at the crowd. “Who will it be? PDA couplet over there?”

Natasha follows your pointing thumb, frowning when she sees the girl you shoved “accidentally”, now passionately making out with a tall, brunette dude. “The ones who guarded the exits which are currently tied up in the janitors closet?…Or perhaps the one who will tell you about my little handywork?”

Just in time, a slight buzzing tingles in the Russian agent’s ear. “Agent Romanoff, we found two gang members on the roof. One is already dead, several blunt trauma, and the other is about to bleed out. He has a few minutes tops.”

Her veiny hand grips the counter, knuckles turning white. A low whistle escapes you at the sight. “I mean, you could try and stop me yourself. Let me say, I’m not opposed to you putting me in handcuffs.” You tease with a dangerous glint in your eyes, your fingers tracing her left wrist up to her bicep. If she is bothered because of your touch, she doesn’t show it. But you see how her grip relaxes ever so slightly. Hm, interesting. “...or you could go, get the information from that dying bastard before it’s too late and you end up being stuck in a dead-end. Again.”

The wheels in her head are practically visible. Her eyes darken, and her jaw tenses. Oh, how you love to see her all worked up, knowing that you are one of the few who can break her cold composure. You mouth a tick-tock and with a hard downing of the bottle on her hand to the counter.

”This isn’t over. I’ll get my hands on you eventually.”

A pout. “Promise?” With a last scowl, she flies off.

Rushing through the stairs, the cold air hits Natasha on the face, her eyes adjusting to the poor light. “How is he?” Her eyes fall on the weapons you used, hand grabbing the now blooded pipe.

“I already cover the wound, but the blood he's lost is too much. He won't make it to the medbay.” Crouching next to him, Natasha see the sickly pale tone of his face, eyes practically close and hears the shallow, broken breaths. Her eyes inspect the now covered deadly wound and grunts in frustration. “Hey, can you hear me?”

No response. He is dead. Out of frustration, she punches the vent next to him. “Um, ma’am? You should see this.”

A brick wall, right next to the door, with a message written in blood. “When you stop scowling, give me a call dear. Swear I’ll play nice.”

Grunting in frustration, Natasha throws the pipe against the wall, fuming. Looking over the street, she doesn’t see you anywhere. You are gone, even if something tells her you are giggling under the shadows.

#mcu #fanfic #marvel #marvel blurb #natasha romanoff #black widow #reader insert #natasha x reader

[strsburn]

believe in something | b. wayne (batman) [2]

pairing - bruce wayne (batman) x widow! reader

synopsis - in which the bat finds himself intrigued by the spider

warnings - violence, descriptions of murder, past abuse, minor character death etc.

notes - thank you guys so much for all the love and support on the first part of this, i was not expecting the amount of feedback i got and i am beyond appreciative of the encouragement to continue this series. enjoy x

PART ONE SERIES MASTERLIST

"So, what brought the big bad bat out of his cave and into my neck of the woods." Oswald laughed slapping his hands on his thighs with renewed joy. You stood silent, eyes trained ahead as the Bat stood across from you. His jaw was tense, fists twitchy at his side as if to refrain from punching the living lights out of the penguin. You couldn't deny you shared the same sentiment.

"I'm not here for pleasantries, Oz." Batman spoke up, his voice low but gruff all the same. You couldn't help but trace your eyes over him with interest, as he produced a handful of photos, sliding them across the table for Oswald to inspect. Don Mitchell Jr. with his arm clad around a young blonde beauty was seen in front of the iceberg lounge, the girl covering her face in vain as her features were highlighted in the night. To their left, Oswald was seen, head turned in the opposite direction.

Annika.

You kept your features stoic as you made a mental note to notify Selina of the recent events and advise her to get on an earlier flight if she wanted to keep things on the down low.

"Who is she?" Batman demanded, eyes shadowed by the dim lighting of the room and what you made out to be some sort of grease paint.

Oswald studied the pictures a moment longer before he tossed the film back on the table, the action causing them to fan out across the mahogany.

"Look, I may have been coming out at the same time as them but the truth of the matter is, I keep my nose out of business that has nothin' to do with me." Oz shrugged and by the tick in the Bat's jaw you could tell this answer displeased him.

With a barely contained grunt Batman snatched Oz by the collar, pushing him into the glass with a force that caused a web of cracks to spread.

In an instant you had your gun removed and pressed into the back of the Bat's cape, your hands steady and eyes narrowed.

At your move, Oswald held up a hand as the Bat subtly tensed under your ministrations. At the silent order you reluctantly let your hand drop as you awaited the Bat's next moves.

"It's okay Cupcake, Vengeance here just needs a little chat. Give us a minute." You looked between the two one last time, sending a warning glance to the Bat before you left the room without a word.

You had a call to make.

"Your heartbeat is loud. You're nervous, it shows in your moves."

You tensed, eyes drifting to the pristine white floors where an unfamiliar girl stared back.

"M'sorry." You muttered as the man circled you, eyes haunted with memories he could not place, ledger's that would remain unclean.

Winter Soldier. They called him. He was cold as he was unmoving. He did not hesitate when it came to a mission. He did not allow any mistakes. You would admire his dedication if it meant anything other than death.

Hesitation will get you killed, маленький." You swallowed, eyes slowly lifting to meet his. An ice cold blue settling in your bones, leaving you with a chill you could not remedy.

"Hey, Hon. You heading home?"

"Selina." You greeted softly, adjusting your earpiece as you swerved through traffic. Lights decorating your form as you become one with the night.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Selina immediately grew concerned at your distant tone and you hefted a sigh as you realized you would have to be the one to break the news.

"You and Annika need to leave Gotham, Sel." You ripped the bandaid off quickly, cursing as a car nearly clipped you in your distraction.

"Shit. They know about Anni, don't they?" Selina sweared and you could hear a few distant meows in the background as she moved around.

"The Bat had pictures of her and the mayor, showed up at the club today looking for answers. It's only a matter of time before the press catches on." You affirmed. Selina didn't say anything for a minute, but a shuffle and a sniffle let you know she was still on the line and you felt a frown form as you knew just how much Annika meant to Selina.

"She's just a kid, angel." Selina told you and you smiled at the nickname she had adorned you with.

"I know. But we'll figure something out, I just need you to be safe okay? Grab what you both will need and I'll meet you at the apartment." You told her. A beep was heard, indicating the call had been disconnected and you sighed as you turned off the earpiece, smoothly speeding through traffic as your apartment came into view.

Rain had begun to pour, the water sending a chill in your bones as your hair stuck to your skin, your coat doing little to protect you against the harsh weather.

You parked your bike, climbing off it with a flourish as you took your helmet off and settled it under your arm.

As soon as you entered your apartment you heard the murmurs of the television and muffled sobbing and you immediately shrugged your jacket off, your helmet being carelessly tossed on the counter.

You entered the kitchen to see Annika sobbing into her palms, her figure trembling with fear as mascara trickled down her cheeks in despair. Selina cradled her face in her hands as she tried to calm the blonde down, to no avail. One look at the TV screen made it easy to fit the puzzle pieces together and you clenched your jaw as your assumptions were proven correct. The press had found out about Annika and Don Mitchell's affair and they were having a field day with the exposé.

"Sel." You announced your presence softly as the brown skinned woman turned to look at you, eyes dampened with frustration.

"Hey." She nodded as she stood to greet you, her nails raking down your arm gently, sending a pleased shiver up your spine.

"Did you get everything?" You asked her as you nodded to the girl who stared into space, eyes swollen with fatigue.

"Yeah, except the bastard took her passport so we don't have many places to hide." Selina griped, hands running through her short hair in stress.

You bit your lip in contemplation as you hummed, before you carefully moved past the woman and lowered yourself to be in front of Annika who turned her wide eyes to you.

"Anni, love, I need you to tell me where your passport is so I can get it for you. Do you remember?" You prodded gently. She stayed quiet for a second, turning trusting eyes to the woman behind you who nodded softly. Her eyes met yours again and she nodded, sitting up with a newfound courage.

"There's a fake picture in his office, he keeps things hidden behind it. B-but there's a combination lock on it." She hesitated.

You nodded, expecting such before you stood up and faced Selina who watched your expression carefully.

"I'm going to get it." You stated.

"No-" Selina started but you held a hand up, face set with determination.

"I need to Sel. You need to stay here and look after her and I will be back shortly. The longer we stall, the less time you have to get out of here." You tell her.

She nods reluctantly knowing this is an argument she will not win.

You walk into your room and set for your closet, yanking on the rusted chain connected to your lightbulb as you open the chest hidden in your closet.

An unmistakable black suit with an hourglass shape in the belt lies there, dusted with tainted memories and years of regret. You pull it from the box and run your fingers down the material. Questioning if you were really doing this.

A second passes and you sigh standing from the bed you begin to strip, sliding into the material that hugs you like a second skin. You grab a few extra widow bites and slip them into the side of your belt as backup.

Satisfied with what you have, you slip the window open and jump from the fire escape landing on your feet with a quiet thump.

As you rev up your bike and set out for the former mayor's estate you fail to notice the figure trailing you.

Gotham streets are abandoned at this late hour and you thank the heavens that you are able to avoid any unwanted ears and eyes as you lower yourself into the office of the former mayor.

Your steps are light and quiet as you practically glide across the wood floors towards the large painting that looks too odd against the rest of the decor. It was quite obvious that the mayor was not big on subtlety.

Your gloved hands trace the frame of the picture with nimble fingers as you locate a latch that allows you to slide the picture upwards to reveal a combination lock. You hold back a snort at the display. It was child's play compared to the rigorous locks you had underwent in the red room.

Laying out the kit you snagged from Selina you set to work on the combination, easily opening the latch and locating the passport placed there.

Just as your fingertips touch it, you sense a presence behind you and you turn.

"That's a neat party trick."

You narrow your eyes at the Bat as your hand slides behind you to nick the passport.

In a blink, you leap for the Bat, swiping his legs out from under him. He's quick to anticipate this move, and snatches your leg bringing it down and causing you to lose your balance. Not in the particular mood for the Bat you flip onto his shoulders and use your thighs to bring him down. Before he can get back up you grab the passport and run for the exit, not expecting his quick recovery.

You exhale as you're spun around roughly, the Bat snatching the booklet from your grasp and flipping the pages open to study the contents. His eyes narrow and you know he's made the connection.

"Annika Kosolov, twenty three. She was manipulated by the mayor so you killed him for revenge-"

You snatch the book from his palms, pushing the Bat back who stumbles in surprise, not expecting the shove.

"Shut your damn mouth, Bat. You don't know anything about the situation. I didn't kill the mayor." You scoff.

Before you could speak more you listen as a door closes footsteps sounding in the foyer. A hand grasps yours and you find yourself pressed on the opposite side of the wall, Batman's hand on your waist sending an unfamiliar tingle up your spine as the heat from his hand radiates through the glove, nearly searing into your skin.

"Shhh." He whispers as you fidget in his grasp, his hand covering your mouth.

You still as you wait for the officer to leave, your heart beating steadily despite your position.

A hum registers from the officer as he sweeps the room before he leaves with a quiet click of the door. You elbow the Bat away from you as you dust off your uniform eyebrows drawn in displeasure at his constant interference.

"Why are you here?" Batman questions, a demanding tilt to his voice. You roll your eyes as you cross your arms in defiance.

"Look Bat, I didn't have anything to do with the murder of the mayor okay? I'm just a friend helping another friend out." You wiggle the passport for emphasis.

The Bat hums but steps closer, his presence casting a shadow over you.

"She seemed pretty upset earlier, any idea why?" Your brows furrow at how he could know this, when it clicked. Biting back a growl you punch him in the arm as he wheezes in pain at the force, eyes falling to yours.

"Spy on me again Bats, and I'll make those circles under your eyes permanent."

He wisely kept his mouth shut yet you see a twinkle of amusement in his eyes that fades before you can call him on it.

"Whatever she knows has her spooked enough to not tell Selina. Sel tells me everything." You relent after a beat of silence passes.

You turn to leave when a firm hand grabs your forearm gently.

"Then let's go talk to her." He advised.

"Sir, we located the widow."

Light flickered from the screen, reflecting onto yellowed teeth and wrinkled eyes that squinted as a crooked grin formed.

"Good work Nikolai, your services are no longer required."

"Sir?-"

A choked gasp echoed in the room as a body slid to the floor, eyes open in fear as blood trickled steadily from the hole decorating his forehead.

A sigh escaped the man as he turned back to the screen, ballet slippers effortlessly moving in sync as the widows loaded bullets into their targets. His eyes focused on one in particular as he smiled widely, tracing the image with his finger.

"We shall be reunited soon."

taglist for believe in something

@philiasoul @blue-aconite @strawberriebabbles @n1ght5h4d3-24 @daryldixonstorm @drifterbruce @blossomedfloweroflove @goldbvtton @f-ergj @thecraziestcrayon @tmt-alexis @alinefrank @doritoinflation @twsssmlmaa

#graysonshaven #bruce wayne x female reader #batman x fem!reader #battinson #robert pattinson batman #believe in something series #black widow reader insert #black widow #assasin reader

[therealdisneyfan2319]

Mr. Mailman | Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Natasha has a crush on the mailman :)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Mild language

Word Count: 1.7K

Masterlist

A/N: This was an anon request. Enjoy!

“What’s wrong with her?” Sam asked as he watched Natasha forlornly stir her coffee while staring out the window.  

“She’s upset Y/N won’t notice her,” Yelena explained.

“Shut up,” Nat snapped, shaking her head and snapping herself out of her fantasy.

“I’m not wrong.  You’ve had his eye on him ever since he first showed up!”

“I said shut up!” While her tone was harsh, the blush creeping across her face told a different story.  It was true.  Natasha Romanoff, normally the stoic, unattached assassin, had a crush.  

From the first day Y/N L/N stepped foot on the Avengers’ compound as the new Stark Industries delivery driver, Natasha was absolutely smitten.  She didn’t know what it was.  Maybe it was the way his biceps bulged as he pulled the truck full of packages through the loading dock.  Or maybe it was the flourish he used flipping the clipboard back to the dock manager after signing the package transfer.  But truth be told it was the way he glanced up from the clipboard and smiled at Natasha the first day he saw her.  Ever since then she used every excuse in the book to be at the loading dock or mailroom whenever he was there.

******

You never anticipated that your first job after college would be a delivery driver for Stark Industries, but here you were.  While it wasn’t the office job you anticipated, driving the delivery truck was actually pretty cool.  Getting to step foot on the Avengers compound every day was cool.  Having Tony Stark as your boss was cool.  Sneaking a glance at Natasha Romanoff whenever you could?  Cool isn’t the exact word you’d use for that.

The first time you laid eyes on Nat was your first day of work.  You were signing for some packages that were being transferred from the compound to the main site when she walked by.  She was passing through, on her way to some other location.  All you did was look at her and smile.  She flashed a quick grin in your general direction before speeding off.  That was the last time she actually made eye contact with you, but it wasn’t the last time you saw her.  Most days she was either in the mailroom or the loading dock whenever you got there.  No words were exchanged between the two of you, but she was always there.  Sometimes you sensed her looking at you, but she quickly glanced away when you looked over at her.

Natasha was gorgeous, there was no doubt about that.  You never missed an opportunity to steal a quick glance whenever she passed by.  But you were always too scared to actually strike up a conversation with her.  She was the Black Widow: something about asking one of the world’s fiercest assassins out for coffee intimidated you.  There was always the slight risk that an unwanted advance would end in your assassination.  So you kept your distance for reasons of personal safety…or that’s what you told yourself.

******

“As the resident expert on waiting too long, don’t.”

“Drop it, Steve,” Nat chided.  “I don’t even like him.”

“Oh, that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one,” Steve chuckled, dodging the coffee cup that came flying at his head.  “It’s okay if you like him!  I’ve talked to him a few times and he’s a nice guy.”

“No.  No, it’s not okay.  I wouldn’t know what to do if he liked me back…” she trailed off.

“You go out for coffee.  You talk, you get to know each other.”

“Steve I…I’ve never actually dated anyone before!” Natasha blurted.  Red crept up her cheeks as she finally admitted the one truth she never spoke aloud.  The only other person who knew the truth was Yelena and even she was sworn to secrecy.

“What?” 

“I know how to seduce people.  That’s part of the job and I do it well.  But it’s just the job.  I’ve never done it for real.”

“Come on, you’re kidding.  What about Connor?” Steve was shocked at the revelation.  He set his coffee cup down on the counter and rubbed his beard as he stared at Natasha.  

“That was a cover for the joint mission with MI6.”

“Lillian?”

“SHIELD mission.”

“David from Accounting?”

“Daniel.  Just sex.”

Steve didn’t say anything: he just stared.  Natasha glanced at her feet, kicking the ground in front of her as an awkward tension spread over the room.  She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole just to get her out of such an uncomfortable situation.

“Nat-”

“No one’s going to want to go out with a woman who’s never been on a date before,” Natasha replied tersely.  She gulped the lump that was slowly creeping up her throat as she once again swallowed her pride.  

It’s not that she didn’t want to eventually partner up with someone, in fact it was quite the opposite.  After so many years of excuses, she just figured it would never happen to her.  The possibility of something finally working out scared her.  Natasha worried she wouldn’t know what to do.  Sex was one thing.  That was transactional, something both parties rendered knowing there weren’t any strings attached.  Intimacy?  That involved being vulnerable and saying how you felt.  After so many years living so many lies Natasha wasn’t sure she was capable of such openness.  

“You’ll never know unless you try,” Steve encouraged, placing a hand on her shoulder.  

“Cut the bullshit, Steve,” Natasha snapped as she shook his hand from her body.  “We both know it’s not that simple.”

“It is with the right guy.”

******

Should be good after this last trip, you thought to yourself as you pushed the overflowing mail cart down the winding hallway toward the mailroom.  It was cold and rainy, a miserable day to be on the road, and all you wanted was to get out of there, drive the truck back to the city, and head to your apartment in Queens.  All that was left was sorting the mail and putting it in the right mailboxes.

The mailroom was a convoluted maze of boxes, bins, tubes, and chutes.  Everything had a specific spot and it was easy to mess up at first.  Once you got the hang of it, sorting everything out wasn’t too bad.  What once took over an hour only took you twenty or so minutes now.  Plopping the cart down in front of the mailboxes, you got to work stuffing envelopes, packages, and postcards where they belonged.  The work was mindless, meditative almost.  Once you got into the rhythm of it your brain shut off and muscle memory took over.  Today you were so in the zone that you didn’t notice the redhead walk into the room behind you, so when you turned around the shock of realizing you weren’t alone made you drop your armful of envelopes.

“Oh great,” you muttered, stooping down to pick up the papers.

“Here, let me-”

“No, it’s fine-”

“No, it’s my fault.  Let me help you.”  

You watched as the redhead knelt down in front of you, raking papers toward herself.  It was the first time you were ever that close to Natasha Romanoff.  A more looming, intimidating figure in your mind, she was surprisingly smaller and less threatening up close and in sweatpants.  If you didn’t know any better, you wouldn’t even know that she’s a trained assassin.  She was so unobtrusive, so inconspicuous.  She was also so, so incredibly beautiful. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize that you were in here,” you sheepishly apologized as you stared down at the red ponytail that was flopping back and forth.  

“I have a bad habit of sneaking up on people,” Natasha admitted.

“Understandable,” you chuckled.  Natasha gave a slight smile as she handed you some envelopes.  God her eyes were the brightest green you’d ever seen.  You grabbed the envelopes from her, holding onto them and locking eyes with her for far too long.  Suddenly realizing you were actually a human being on earth currently existing in the moment, you cleared your throat abruptly and looked down at the letters.

“A lot of mail today,” Natasha mumbled.  She snapped her head toward the mailbox, trying to hide the redness spreading over her cheeks.  “Are you always this busy?”

“Uhhh, no.  Not always.  Normally it’s not this bad.  Did y’all collectively decide that today was the best day to order from Amazon?”

“That’s either Bucky or Yelena.  My sister’s always buying stuff she doesn’t need and Bucky loves the novelty of next-day delivery.  I think it’s that whole ‘born over a hundred years ago’ thing.”

“Funny.  Most of these packages are for you,” you teased, thrusting a stack of envelopes in her direction.  

“What on earth?” Natasha fumbled the packages, completely confused as to why she had so many packages when she didn’t remember ordering anything.  You watched as her eyes furrowed in utter confusion.  Her bewilderment was equally amusing and adorable.  “This has to be some sort of mistake.”

“I just deliver the mail, ma’am,” you replied.

“And make me feel old, Mr. Mailman.  You can call me Natasha.”

“It’s Y/N, but you can call me Mr. Mailman if that makes you feel better.”

“How about I just call you instead?” Natasha blurted without realizing what she was saying.

“What?”  

The second she realized what she just said, Natasha became totally overwhelmed with embarrassment. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” she mumbled, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.  “I’ll just-thanks for the packages.  Have a good weekend.”  She scrambled to pick up what she could before making a beeline for the door.

“Natasha, wait!” you heard yourself calling.  “Please just wait, please, ummm…”  She paused, still looking down at her packages as she faced away from you.  “Umm, coffee?  I mean, d’you want to get coffee?  Not right now, I’ve still gotta get the truck back to the city.  But maybe tomorrow?  Or I can do Sunday if tomorrow doesn’t work.  Basically whenever you’re free I can clear my schedule.  If you want.  No pressure.”

“Alright.”

“Sooooo tomorrow then?”

“Yeah.  Tomorrow.”  She glanced behind herself, shooting you a half grin that she was failing to stop from becoming a full on smile.

“Cool.  Great.  Awesome.  Yeah, see you tomorrow,” you replied, totally breathless and in shock at the situation.  A coffee date with Natasha Romanoff…what could go wrong?

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff fic #black widow fic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x male reader #natasha x male reader #black widow x male reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #therealdisneyfan2319

[writerslittlelibrary]

So, I'm not a prisoner? part 2

masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3 extra

summary: you did not expect that your mission to take down the traitor, could end in such a difficult situation for you…

pairing: Natasha x Red Room teen reader

warnings: like, one swear word 

genre: fluff, angst

words: 2554

a/n: I apologise if this chapter isn’t the best. I’m in a bit of a depression slum so I’m not really motivated to do anything right now. I might come back later and fix this chapter a bit

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

After leaving the apartment, you immediately noticed the SHIELD agents piled up outside. They must have been listening to your conversation. 

Natasha led you towards a SHIELD car, opening the door for you, allowing you to get in. She got in the drivers seat, and followed by about a dozen other SHIELD trucks, she drove towards an airport nearby. 

The Quinjet was waiting at the airport, Clint Barton apparently inside of it. 

“I know this must be very overwhelming for you,” Natasha spoke, glancing towards you before focusing on the road again. 

You stayed quiet, instead staring out the window as you watched all objects blur. 

“I promise you we are going to help you,” Natasha affirmed. You turned your head, looking at her. 

“You can’t honestly sit there and tell me you are certain they won’t lock me away the moment I set foot in there,” you stated, and Natasha looked at you, giving you a sad smile. 

“I promise you, I will do everything in my power to make sure you won’t be locked away,” Natasha started, focusing back on the road and taking a deep breath. 

“How can you be so sure?” you asked. 

“I’ll think of something. I can put you under my supervision. I can lock you in a room and make sure you can leave it with me. Anything. I will come up with anything,” Natasha assured you. You didn’t want to believe her. You didn’t believe her, yet for some reason, whether it was her tone or the way that she spoke, you couldn’t help but deep down, believe her, even just a little. 

You sighed and looked back out the window, wanting nothing but to wake up from this nightmare. 

Yet then again, if this were a nightmare, wouldn’t you just wake up in your old one?

Your mind was a mess, and you could hear all the voices in your head scream at you. You saw Madame B every time you closed your eyes, just yelling at you. Telling you what a screw-up you were. Telling you all the ways that you failed them.

You always hated Natasha Romanoff for being a traitor, but now you met her, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe you were wrong. 

And even if you weren’t, you were now officially a traitor as well. 

You wanted to make Dreykov proud. That’s what you were supposed to do, right? If you made him proud, you’d get rewarded. You were the pride jewel. He loved you, didn’t he? He cared about you. You weren’t some disposable Widow. You knew that. But, then again, he was the one that told you that. And could he really be trusted? 

You groaned slightly, rubbing your temple with your right hand and you closed your eyes. 

“Everything okay?” Natasha asked, giving you a concerned glance. 

“I’m fine,” you bit back quickly, hating to look weak. Natasha didn’t take you response as hurtful. She knew you weren’t actively trying to hurt her. She understood the way you were raised, and she’d be damned if she, or anyone else, would ever misunderstand you. 

The drive to the airport didn’t take long, and soon enough you could spot the Quinjet from the car. 

“You brought the Avengers superjet…?” you asked, and Natasha gave you a small smile as she nodded. “That’s not exactly subtle…” you told her, yet Natasha just shrugged. 

“It’s fast,” she responded, driving the car as close as she could get it to the Quinjet. Once she stopped the car, she got out, walking over to your side and opening the door for you. You didn’t acknowledge it as you got out, immediately noticing the other SHIELD trucks that were parked closely. 

Some agents stood outside their cars, their hand on their weapon as they watched you. 

You noticed a woman walking towards you, and you took a step back when you decided she was way to close. 

The woman didn’t acknowledge your defensive attitude, instead holding up a pair of handcuffs and reaching for your hands. 

You pulled your hands back, and before the woman could say anything, Natasha had noticed what was going on, stepping in front of you and stopping the woman. 

“What are you doing?” Natasha asked, despite the fact it was obvious. 

“It’s protocol,” the woman claimed, yet when she tried to step towards you again, Natasha stopped her. 

“She came willingly,” Natasha stated, but the woman just shook her head. 

You noticed neither of them were going to give up, and quite honestly you just wanted to get rid of the woman. And so, you took a step forward, holding up your hands to the woman, giving her an expecting look. 

Natasha looked a bit shocked, yet didn’t take long to place her hand on your arm. 

“You really don’t have to,” she stated, but you interrupted her. 

“It’s fine. Let’s just go,” you stated, and the woman nodded as she made quick work of handcuffing you. 

After she was finished, Natasha gently took your upper arm, leading you towards the Quinjet. Clint Barton was already waiting on board, having a small smile on his face when he spotted you two. 

“Hey kid, nice to see you turn over a new leaf,” he said, yet you just scoffed. 

He didn’t seem offended, but rather just smiled and turned the chair around, facing the control panel. 

He pressed a few buttons, and the Quinjet closed.

“Take a seat. We’ll be flying for a few hours,” Natasha announced, and you nodded as you held up the pair of handcuffs. 

A look of shock and confusion took place on Natasha’s face, before she quickly regained herself and gave you her famous smirk. 

“Damn… You’re good good,” she told you, and you gave her a small smile before you sat down on a seat. 

Natasha discarded of the handcuffs, placing them in some cupboard before taking a seat next to you. “I know you’re scared, and I know you’re not showing it, and you’ll never admit it, but I promise you, I will make sure everything is gonna be alright,” Natasha said, looking forward, not wanting to pressure you.

You would of course never let her know, but you appreciated what she said. You would indeed never admit it, but you were scared. 

You weren’t just scared of the Avengers, though. You were afraid of what Dreykov would do to you. You were afraid what he would think, and what he would say. He would be so disappointed. Natasha Romanoff was right there. The traitor is sitting right next to you. You could so very easily just kill her. Slit her throat. Her guard was down. She would never see it coming. Dreykov would be so proud. 

You weren’t sure whether you wanted to kill her, and for the first time in your life, you found yourself debating whether you should kill her or not. 

Never once in your life did you think about killing someone or not. Never once did you think about the consequences. I was always just another assignment. Another person you had to wipe from existence, and you never, ever, dared to give it a second thought.

This experience was weird for you. 

You didn’t really want to kill Natasha, but yet again, you were supposed to, so why wouldn’t you? It’s not like you really cared whether Natasha lived or died. Did you?

You simply sighed and let your head fall back against the wall behind you, closing your eyes and letting your thought run through your head. What would Dreykov say? You knew what he would say. Deep down, you knew he didn’t care. 

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

After the Quinjet landed, Natasha and Clint guided you through the Avengers tower, claiming they need to take you to an office so you could speak with the director, Nick Fury.

You, of course, knew exactly where that office was, yet you decided to keep your mouth shut and just follow them. You didn’t want to make this situation worse for yourself. You knew the entire lay-out of the Avengers towers, and you were pretty certain Natasha was aware of that. 

Once you took the elevator and made it to the office, Nick Fury was sitting behind his desk, Maria Hill standing of to the side with a clip board in her hand. 

There were Shield agents standing outside the door, and you were pretty sure they were there to make sure you couldn’t try anything. 

“Take a seat,” Nick Fury simply said, and you looked at Natasha unimpressed, before you took a step forward, setting yourself down in the seat at the other side of the desk, across from Nick Fury. 

“You understand we cannot trust you, correct?” Fury stated, and you looked him in the eyes, enough for him to accept it as a yes, apparently. 

“Director Hill,” Fury then mentioned, getting up from his seat. 

Maria Hill walked towards the desk, placing her clip board on it as she sat down herself. She gave you a small smile. You didn’t return it. 

You were focused on your surroundings. Clint had left the room. Natasha was leaning against the wall next to the door. She probably didn’t want to disturb the conversation, yet she didn’t want to leave you alone. Maybe she just wanted to keep her eye on you. 

Before Fury walked away, he turned to look at you.

“Don’t fuck this up,” he stated, before walking towards the door, leaving the room. 

You turned your gaze back to Maria, who had picked up a pen, now waiting for your attention to turn back to her. Once it did, she began speaking. 

“I’m just going to ask you a few questions, and you just try and answer them to the best of you abilities,” she explained, and you nodded slightly. 

“Could you please state your full name and date of birth?” 

“Y/n, the rest I don’t know…” you replied, and Maria nodded. “Do you have any idea of how old you may be?” she asked and you nodded, giving her your assumed age. 

She wrote the information down, scratching some things out on the clipboard before turning to the next question. 

“Do you know where you were born?” she asked, and you nodded. 

“I was born in Russia, but I’m not sure whether my parents were Russian,” you explained, and Maria nodded as she wrote it all down. 

“Have you always been in Russia?” 

You shook your head, briefly telling her about certain mission you had been on that took longer than a month. 

There was that time in Seattle, when you lived with another Red Room Widow pretending to be your mother. You had gone to an actual school, and you had had actual friends. 

There was another time in the Netherlands, when you were with a Hydra agent. Something about a debt Dreykov owed to Alexander Pierce. You had been chosen for a mission with a Hydra agent. You were posing as a normal teenager, whose mother passed, which is why your father moved you all the way to the Netherlands. You enjoyed the learning the language, yet you found it one of the harder ones to master due to the many odd rules. 

Maria wrote every single detail you told her down, not missing a single thing as she made sure everything was on paper. 

After a few more questions, and many ‘I don’t know’s’ from you, Maria finally put her pen down, smiling at you gently. 

“That’s all for now,” she explained and you nodded. 

“Come on,” you heard Natasha say, and you got up, walking towards her. 

“See you later,” she told Maria before guiding you out. Were they a thing? Did Natasha see how Maria blushed? Did Natasha notice how she herself blushed? 

Whatever. 

Natasha led you towards the elevator, pressing a button, then entering a code. You learned about this. To get to the living quarters of the Avengers tower, you had to enter a code. This was to prevent any unwanted visitors in the living space of the Avengers. 

Once the elevator opened, Natasha led you out, guiding you towards a hallway. You followed her the entire way, making sure to walk at least a metre behind her. 

You weren’t allowed to walk next to your superiors, and even though you weren’t sure what you place in this tower would be, you didn’t want to take any chances. You didn’t want to stray to far from the manners you were taught. 

Natasha probably noticed, but whether she did or not, she decided not to mention it. 

Eventually, she stopped in front of a door, pushing a key in the keyhole and unlocking it. 

“This will be you room,” she smiled and pushed the door open. “My room is across from this one, and the only other people in this hallway are Wanda and Carol, but she is not often on earth,” Natasha explained, and you nodded as if you didn’t already know it.

You stepped into the bedroom, and it took you a moment to process the fact, that all that space, would be yours now. 

“Do you like it?” Natasha asked, waiting by the door. 

“It’s so… big…” you stated, slowly walking further into the room. Natasha smiled as she made her way towards another door. 

“This is the bathroom. I stocked it with some basic supplies beforehand, so you’ll probably be good for a little while, or just until we get the chance to go shopping,” Natasha stated as she closed the door again. 

“This is the closet,” she explained, walking over to the piece of furniture and opening it.

“Right now, there are just some things from me and Wanda that will probably be wearable for you, but we’ll get you some new clothes soon,” Natasha smiled, and you nodded. 

Natasha walked over to the desk, sitting down on the desk chair and looking at the ground. It seemed she had something to say, and it would be something you wouldn’t like. You took a seat on the bed, across from her, and simply waited until she spoke. 

“Now, because we do not know you, we cannot just let you roam freely around the tower. I managed to convince Fury you shouldn’t be put in a cell, but unfortunately, this door will have to be locked until further notice,” Natasha explained and you nodded. 

“He’d be stupid not to,” you replied, and Natasha nodded, giving you a small smile.

“I promise I will come check on you often, okay? And you can leave the room if you are accompanied, so I will make sure to take you on some daily walks or something, alright?” Natasha explained, and you nodded, giving her a smile in return. 

“I promise you, everything will only get better now,” Natasha told you, and you nodded as she got up, walking towards the door. 

“I’ll get you something to eat, and some entertainment,” she explained, and she left the room. 

Suddenly, you were left alone. This was your room. You made the choice. You were officially a traitor. There was no going back. You did this to yourself. You royally screwed up. Or perhaps, just maybe, you made a really good choice?...

Tags: @wandanatlov3r @tobiaslut @natashasgirlll @xanthreee

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @simp-erformarvelwomen @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @mxximoffswifey

#black widow #marvel #natasha x reader #mcu #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader platonic #avengers #natasha x daughter #blackhill #marvel reader insert #maria x natasha #natasha x maria #natasha #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x teen reader #natasha romanoff x daughter #natasha romanoff x reader platonic #yelena x reader platonic #yelena belova x reader #yelena #yelena belova #bucky x reader #maria x reader #maria hill x reader #maria hill #nick fury #avengers x reader #reader insert #x reader

[writing-house-of-m]

Cold hands, Warm hearts

Natasha Romanoff x GN!Reader

Summary: Natasha warms you up on a cold day with an impromptu date

A/N: This is for @esouliie ! You can all thank her for this because I don't know when I would have gotten something new finished. This was also the result of there being way too many 'missing Natasha hours' recently (I've also been having a lot of 'missing Wanda hours' too and have re-watched WandaVision because of it). But, everyone... this fic... is so freaking cute and I hope you all think so too. Happy reading and let me know who you think!

"Hey," you hear a familiar rasp from over your shoulder. 

You didn't think you would hear from her so soon. She told you she was going to be busy, which is code for ‘away on a mission’, so have kept yourself occupied for the last few weeks trying not to think of the red head. Which is easier said than done. 

Every morning when you wake up disappointment fills you not seeing her there. Your intertwined lives are now routine. 

It is hard to adjust when she is away, especially when it is for weeks and what feels like no end in sight. On top of that, with missions like these, there is no communication between you to fill the Natasha shaped hole in your life. 

Sometimes you wonder if it would be easier to be involved with someone else, anyone else for that matter, but the thought is gone as quick as it comes because no one could ever replace the way she makes you feel. 

The first week of her absence you filled your free time as much as you could by catching up with friends and family. You constantly found yourself avoiding the question about why you have been so distant recently. It was the one thing Natasha requested from you - not telling anyone about your relationship with her - to, in her words ‘keep you safe'. 

You still remember the way she looked at you. It was the first time you could see past the facade she held, seeing the worry linger in her eyes for a split second. The intensity of her gaze and her hesitance was a strange thing to witness. When you nodded your head in agreement her smile was soft, almost relieved. In that moment you realized you would agree to anything she asked just to see that vulnerable side again. You felt privileged. 

This second and third week have been much slower, a lot of your time has been spent in the four walls of your apartment because of last minute canceled plans and much needed maintenance needed around your home. 

So you decide today, cold be damned, you will be taking a walk through your local park. You shared this little wonder of a place with Natasha in your fourth month of being together, happy to be able to reveal a bit more of you and your life. 

It is a public place, more people pass by here than in the street where you live. But you got to show Natasha all the overlooked secrets; little winding paths that lead to flower gardens, a pond hidden behind some bushes and the gargoyles you can see from one spot when standing in a specific angle by a monument in the center. You even pointed out some regulars you see because of all your time here. From the confined elderly wanting a bit of liberation from their mundane lives to daring children trying to climb the tallest tree they can find. 

A breeze rushes past, the cold chilling you to your bones and you inwardly curse at yourself. Trust you to have picked the coldest day for some freedom. Initially, the brisk air was making you regret your decision, that was until the sun came out. It didn't do a whole lot against the freezing temperature, but it did look pretty against the frost and ice distracting you from the chilly weather. 

The way the sun's rays shine between the branches that stretched out over your head reminded you of spring time and how much you couldn’t wait for the season to change. 

Just as you were about to get out from the clearing for some much needed sunlight and heat on your face, that’s when you heard Natasha. 

It has been so long you think you are hearing things, that is until you turn your head and see her. The long army green coat she is wearing almost makes her look taller. 

Almost. 

Strands of red hair peek out from the beanie Natasha is wearing, a braid is tucked into her pulled up collar and she has a soft smile on her face. One you have noticed she reserves for you. 

It takes everything in you to not run over and jump into her arms, to press your nose into her neck to get a smell of the home you have been craving. 

Big scenes are not her thing, you’ve learnt. 

Instead your eyes drop to her gloved hands holding two hot drinks which takes you out of your stupor and smiling brighter in return. You almost want to ask how she knew where you were but then remember her profession. 

"You look cold," there is a playfulness to Natasha’s voice matching her smirk. 

Regardless of how wrapped up you are, you know your scarf hasn't done much to stop your face from getting cold, it must be covered in a light blush. 

"I could say the same about you," you raise an eyebrow with your own smirk. A noticeable pink tint is adorning her cheeks and nose from the cold bite of the air. You wonder how long she has been trailing you. 

Natasha's smile widens as closes in and hands you one of the cups. You take off your gloves, shoving them into your pocket to allow the heat to bring back the feeling in your frozen hands as you bring it to your nose to take a whiff. Your favorite, of course it is. 

She leans in and pecks you on the lips, her still warm palm from the drink sinks into your cheek making you forget about the kiss of the sun you were walking towards. Natasha disappoints you with how short her lips are on yours, you were hoping for something that was more than just a split second considering how long it has been. 

Although Natasha pulls back it is only by an inch as she remains close to ask, "Where are you going?" 

Her voice is low and her warm breath is a nice contrast to the icy wind. 

Your eyes flutter close as you revel in her presence and soak up the warmth she brings. Brushing your nose against hers you reply, "Wherever my feet take me," you smile and open your eyes to the green ones you selfishly wish to keep to yourself. "I'm glad I have some company now," you whisper. 

"I hope you weren't expecting anyone else," Natasha says with a twitch of an eyebrow. 

You shake your head. "Definitely not," you say, pressing a small kiss to her lips, one that lasts longer than the mediocre one she gave you. "I missed you." 

You like seeing her like this. Carefree. Soft. Unguarded. 

Well as unguarded as can be, it was something you picked up in your first few months of spending time together - Natasha is always alert. The way her eyes flint around every so often, looking around to quickly survey her surroundings, always cautious of any lingering threats. To the untrained eye it looks like she is taking in the scenery, but you know after knowing her for as long as you have. 

Over time it is a habit you have even picked up from her, making you wonder if there are things she has picked up from you. 

Natasha stands by your side allowing you to loop an arm around her waist while you take a sip of your beverage. It leaves a warm trail as it makes its way down your throat. It still isn't as warm as the way Natasha makes you feel though as cheesy as that may sound. 

"Thank you for this, I didn't realize how much I needed it," you say, signaling the paper cup. 

She smiles at you to acknowledge your gratitude. "You're never one to think ahead, plus I saw you shiver," Natasha remarks. 

You scoff, shaking your head, "I did not shiver." 

Some children are laughing not too far in front of you which distracts both of your attentions away from your conversation. A large puddle of water has frozen over and seems to be the main source of entertainment for the little gang. 

The two of you stop to watch their innocence, a pang of jealousy hits you because of how carefree and innocent they are. Not a single worry showing on their faces in this cruel world. 

You have been fortunate to only hear about the atrocities always going on. More so since you started to date Natasha. She doesn't go into detail about her line of work but the faraway look she has on her face sometimes after certain assignments tells you all you need to know. It fills you with pride knowing you are Natasha’s source of domestic normalcy. 

One of the snuggly wrapped up boys slips and tries to regain his footing before he falls to the ground making you let out a breath of laughter. The scene is something straight from a cartoon as the boy tries to find balance when trying to stand again while the rest laugh at him. A boy in a puffy gray coat, who is howling with laughter, loses his feet from under him sending him straight to the ground landing on his butt making the rest of them exclaim even louder. 

The smile you see in your peripheral vision tells you Natasha is enjoying this too. 

"How long had you been watching me before you decided to come over, stalker?" You ask, curiosity getting the better of you. 

"Long enough to see you shiver," Natasha accuses in her husky voice. 

You bark out a laugh, "I do not shiver!" 

"Yeah, yeah, you keep lying to yourself," Natasha smirks. 

You spend long minutes, people watching while sipping on your drinks and basking in this precious stolen time you get to spend with each other. 

The children are fewer now, some of them have left with their parents while the rest stay. They have started a game to see who can stay on their feet the longest as they try to knock each other down. 

Sometimes you forget Natasha’s past, what little you know of it, and almost ask about her childhood. You bite your tongue to stop yourself from asking 'What did you get up to as a kid?’ 

Instead, you face Natasha as she continues to stare on at the scene; her side profile is enough to show her fatigue. You place your empty cup on the wall beside you so you can take her face in your hands. 

Natasha takes your lead to turn in your direction allowing you to take in all of her features. 

"You look tired," you whisper in concern as your thumb rubs along her cheekbone. 

"Gee, thanks(!)" Natasha chuckles at her own sarcasm. 

"Nat," you start, ready to reprimand her for not being serious. 

"We’ve had some long days. But don’t worry, I'll be off for the holidays,” Natasha replies. “You'll have me for two weeks. That’s enough time for you to get sick of having me around. By the end of it you’re going to want to be rid of me." 

"Impossible," you say without thinking then lean in to press a kiss to the corner of her lips. 

Natasha turns her head slightly to meet your lips, sighing when she allows herself a moment of being wrapped up in you. 

A buzzing sound makes you stop before you can deepen the kiss any further. You let out a breath of disdain from Natasha’s phone ruining your moment. Natasha smiles at you apologetically, taking the device from her pocket. 

While Natasha checks the notification you give her some privacy, picking up both empty cups to discard them. 

When you return and meet Natasha's eyes, the sparkle that was there just moments ago has faded as regret takes over. She is being called back. 

"Three more days, then you're all mine, Romanoff,” you smile. “And for a whole two weeks!" you exaggerate in hopes to lessen the blow of her having to leave. "How did I get so lucky? I guess I'm being spoiled this season." 

You know you succeed when you see the corners of Natasha's lips raise slightly before she holds onto your coat and pulls you in kissing you again. 

Her phone buzzes impatiently, interrupting you again . 

"I have to go," Natasha says, her warm breath fanning over your face as she rests her forehead against yours. ”But just know, I’m the lucky one here.” 

You smile at her confession and revel once more in the warmth she provides before you have to face the harsh cold that comes with the Winter months alone. 

Kissing Natasha’s forehead you meet her loving green gaze once more. "Come back to me," you breathe out as light as the breeze chilling you. 

"Always," Natasha says, sweetly and just as quiet. Her voice carries the weight of more than the one worded sentence she has spoken. 

Taking a breath, Natasha gives you a final peck before she drags herself away from you. 

Your arm stretches out as Natasha walks away, your hand lingering in hers for those extra few seconds of comfort. But mostly because you don't want to let her go. 

Saying goodbye is always difficult no matter how short the visit. 

As you watch her walk away you think about the first time you met the assassin. 

Out of all the windows in the city Natasha crashed through yours. Your shock had you frozen in place until she tried to stumble out of your apartment but collapsed from fatigue because of the fight she had just endured. 

After getting over the fact an Avenger covered in dirt and blood had ruined your new rug, you used your limited first aid knowledge to nurse her back to health. When she awoke a few hours later, she told you just how crappy of a job you had done. 

What got Natasha’s attention was when you quipped back saying you should have let her bleed out to make a quick buck off of all of her equipment to pay for the damages she caused. 

When she left a short while later you didn’t think you would ever see her in person again. You were looking forward to being able to tell all the people in your life about the encounter with an actual superhero. 

Reality hit you in the gut with the name of ‘Non Disclosure Agreement’ and a clean up crew which you couldn’t be mad about. 

Unbeknownst to you, after your first meeting Natasha couldn't stop herself from wanting to see you again. Her mind drifted to the ‘kind’ (your words not hers) stranger who applied sloppy bandages to her arm and stomach. The messy job would have gotten infected if she hadn’t woken up. Natasha caught herself smiling at the memory too often and had to force herself to be present for work. 

Life went on and your encounter felt less and less real as each day passed. Until one evening, while in your office building working late, you received a call telling you you were needed on the roof. Skeptical as you were, you obeyed thinking of the promotion you had been working so hard toward. 

What you hadn’t expected was a fully healed Black Widow to emerge from the shadows, playfully schooling you to not comply with shady orders received late at night. Then insulting you with how boring your life was and how you should learn to cook for yourself instead of wasting all your money on take-out. 

Surprise was an understatement and instead of letting that show, like your mouth wasn’t already slightly hanging open from the shock while she spoke, you decided to play Natasha’s game and call her out for the stalker that she was. 

Since then your meetings have been sporadic but it didn’t stop you both from falling for each other. Who knew a year and a half on you would be in a relationship with each other, life would have made more sense if you had stopped talking. But you have defied the odds and are still going strong. 

When you make it back to your apartment you find flowers waiting for you on the kitchen counter making you smile. A card attached to them with a message in Natasha’s handwriting that reads ‘3 more days ♡’ makes you feel like your heart is going to burst from emotion. 

Needless to say that smile never left your face throughout you making dinner all the way up until the moment you go to bed that night. Natasha somehow always has a habit of making you feel like a giddy teenager. 

You couldn’t wait to see her again. The gift you have been wanting to give to her for a few weeks has been hidden under your towels in the kitchen cabinet. You can only hope she doesn't already know about it. 

The next time you are together you are going to give her a key to your apartment so that she knows she will always have a place to come back to. 

A place she can call home. 

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[a-spes]

| THE SHOT YOU MISSED - One shot (3k).

| Summary - you're spending a day at the fair with your girlfriend, the sweetest mob boss that possibly exists and she makes sure that you've a good day.

| Tags & warnings - mob boss!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader, just a fluff writing, slight angst (?), beginning of a panic attack, guns, domestic domination (kinda), Natasha is the sweetest in that.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO REQUEST

You’re taking a deep breath, trying to chase away the tension from your shoulders. There is only one cartridge left in the gun you have been given, so you already know that you won’t have a second chance: if that shot doesn’t hit its target, the mission will be a failure, and it’s not an option. The stakes are too high for you to miss that one. 

You’re doing your best to ignore your surroundings, a difficult thing to do when you’re used to paying attention to everything, especially when being in a crowded place. You could hear the conversations of those around you, the screams and laughs alongside the footsteps of the children running on the asphalt. They were meters away but it was still piercing your eardrums. Even your own breathing started to be unbearable, it was fast and loud because of the anticipation and stress.

The weapon is stable, you’re maintaining it with a firm grip despite the slight trembling of your hands. You have been in this position for several minutes, and your muscles are starting to ache. 

You have to do it, now.

There is nothing left to divert your attention, and you are eventually able to forget about everything else. For a moment, you can’t hear anything, you only see the target that is right in the center of your sights. A pressure from your finger, a clatter that rings in your ears, and just like that the bullet is gone, straight toward your target.

“Fuck!” you screamed, and it takes all the control you possess to not throw the plastic weapon when you see that you missed it. 

You ignore the way the showman glanced at you when you screamed, a mixture of annoyance and satisfaction. You have been here for almost half an hour and you didn’t move an inch, refusing to go back to your girlfriend with empty hands. But sometimes determination isn’t enough, all you’ve managed to do is to pop a balloon or two, but you need more if you want to get that coveted prize.

When your hand reaches into your jacket’s pockets, you’re unpleasantly surprised to find nothing. The desperation with which you are now searching isn’t enough to reveal one last coin and you realize that you’ve spent everything you were given by Natasha, which means the fun is over for tonight.

It is already over and you weren’t even good enough to win a little something.

You had no other choice than going back to your girlfriend with nothing to give her, which you find embarrassing because she will obviously ask what took you so long and you didn’t want to admit your failures, not in front of the woman you love. The second she saw you, she stopped talking with the rest of the group to focus all her attention on you, noticing the way you were avoiding her gaze. As you are trying your best to get over your frustration, she is running her finger over your furrowed brows.

“What's happening, sweetie? You’re tense,” she told you, she knew something was wrong the moment she glanced at you, there is nothing that could escape her gaze.

“I lost, again,” you mumbled, not really wanting to talk more about it, especially because you knew she would react that way: you wanted nothing more than to rip that smirk off her face.

“Oh, baby … come here” she cooed, trying to hide her smile - but she just can’t help it.

She opens her arm and you wait no more than a second before throwing yourself into her embrace. The moment she wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug, all your frustration is gone.

She is good when it comes to ease your worries: she spent the next hour dragging you everywhere, and you’re sure you’ve tried every ride at least twice. She even bought you cotton candy despite her strict rules about sweets, just to make sure you smile again.

At some point, you were separated from her, you let go of her hand for one second, just enough time to drink some water, but also for your girlfriend to disappear. She probably told you where she was going, but you hadn’t heard because of the screams and those missed words are the reason you’re now panicking.

You are turning around again, and again, and again, but it’s useless, you are lost without her at your side. Every time you think you spotted her red hair in the crowd, it turns out that it isn’t her and the minutes start to feel like hours.

You're being manhandled by the crowd, trying to sort out your thoughts until a hand comes to rest on your shoulder and pulls you out of your torment. You turn sharply, but fear is replaced by relief when you realise it's only her. 

She doesn’t like to see you like this, with tears in the corner of your eyes, and she hates it even more knowing that she caused this. She wasn't expecting you to react that way, as she only left for a few minutes and this view almost makes her feel bad. Almost, because she knows that what she has brought you will make up for her mistake.

“I got a surprise for you…,” she said, but it was not much of a surprise as you could already see the stuffed toy she was trying to hide behind her back.

It is a black dragon that is almost your size, you saw it at the stand where you were playing earlier. You’ve spent dozens of minutes and dollars in that game without winning anything so you can’t believe that it took her less than five minutes to come back with the biggest prize.

“How did you do that?! It was impossible to win anything!” you exclaimed as the woman hands you the stuffed toy. 

You immediately hug it, squeezing the dragon as tight as you can. It is the fluffiest and you’re already loving it. If you are a bit surprised that Natasha got you something that big, you’re trying to not think too much about it. She always tells you no for everything that could ruin the aesthetic of her house so you want to enjoy the plushie as much as you could before she changes her mind and takes it back.

“Thank you, I love it so much,” you told her, not letting it go, which made her laugh - the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard. 

Even her knows that she’ll eventually regret it, but for the moment the smile on your face makes it all worth it. It became even more important than her house’s décoration.

“But?” she asked, frowning when she heard your tone, knowing that something else was keeping your mind busy.

“There is not but,” you replied, and this time it is your turn to frown at her question.

“I know when you’re lying, love,” she said, her hand brushing your hair away from your face so she could admire every feature of your face.

“... god, I hate when you do that, you’re so annoying,” you mumbled, perfectly knowing that she was right. You bury your face in her shoulder, trying to hide your embarrassment. 

Even when you try your hardest to keep your thoughts for yourself, you are unable to do so. There is nothing you can hide from the woman because she is too good at reading people, her eyes seeing everything.

“Then tell me what’s in your mind, and maybe I'll stop being annoying,” she said, trying to hold back a laugh. She won’t say it because she doesn’t want you to be mad at her for real, but she finds it cute when you’re angry.

“I-didn’t-want-a-stuffed-toy-I-was-trying-to-win-one-for-you,” you replied, talking as fast as you could in hope she won’t retain anything of your rambling - which was doomed to failure.

You are a bit embarrassed by the situation because she succeeded so easily where you didn’t. For once, you wanted to be the one to give her a present, something you rarely have the chance to do because she is always the one who spoils you, but somehow she managed to turn the situation around once again, and you hate it.

She chuckles, relieved that it was nothing too serious. She gently grabs your chin to lift your head up and watch your expression. The moment she saw that hint of sadness in your eyes, she understood how affected you are by the situation, and she finds it surprising how something so insignificant in her eyes could be so important to yours.

“Then I could keep it and we’ll pretend that you won it for me, what do you think?” she asked, trying to cheer you up, not wanting to see that look on your face anymore.

“But that's not the same,” you whined, starting to complain about the unfair situation.

“Oh gosh, you're such a child,” she said, rolling her eyes at your answer - but even if she acts like your attitude is annoying her, deep down you know that she loves it. “Come,” she added, pulling you by the hand to guide you through the crowd after she handed the huge dragon to one of her men.

“Where are we going?” you tried to ask, but of course you don’t get an answer from the redhead. 

When you eventually get to the stand where Natasha won the dragon and you lost your money, the showman looks at you with a wry grin. He recognizes you as the one who spent dozens of dollars in his game without winning anything and he is probably hoping that you are back with more money.

But as soon as his eyes landed on the redhead at your side, his face completely changed. He knew he messed up the second he noticed how her hand is resting at the bottom of your back as she guides you toward his stand. She puts down a bill, which the man takes with caution, probably thinking that there is a trap somewhere. 

“We won’t need that,” she told him the moment the man made a move to give her one of the plastic weapons.

If he is about to protest, one glance from the woman is enough for him to understand that he would better keep his mouth shut. Instead, he watches her carefully as she takes her own gun out, a real one. 

You are a bit confused when she puts the gun in your hands : it is the first time it happens. She has never let you touch anything that could be dangerous, and it obviously included her weapons. It has nothing in common with the fake guns you are used to, it is heavier and more impressive.  

“Go on,” she said, trying to encourage you when she noticed you still haven’t made a move.

“What? With your gun?” you asked, unsure of what you are supposed to do now, “b- but I don’t know how.. I mean, I’ve never-,” you added when she nodded as an answer to your question, but she doesn’t give you time to argue. 

“I know,” she cut you, already knowing what you were about to say, “but I’ll help you, don’t worry about it,” she added, putting her hands on your shoulder to turn you around so you’re facing the targets instead of her.

She stands behind you, and if you can’t see her, you could feel her hands roaming over your body. You’re barely listening to the advice she is whispering in your ears, your mind being entirely focused on her hands. She moves your shoulders and legs in the right position, then she wraps your hands with hers to be sure that you won’t miss this time. It requires even more concentration than earlier to not let yourself get distracted by your proximity with the redhead, so close that you could feel her breath on the back of your neck. 

Even if it doesn’t feel right to do that, you shot. Three times, and you didn’t miss one, all the balloons popped under your eyes, granting you the victory. She immediately snatches the weapon from your hand, not wanting to leave it to you for more time than it’s necessary, but you don’t care, too happy about your victory.

“Theirs are rigged, you never stood a chance,” she simply said as if it was obvious, but it wasn’t. If she understood what was the problem in one shot, why didn’t you after you’ve tried countless times?  

You start to feel a bit stupid as the realization sinks in ; you blamed yourself for something that wasn’t even your fault, something you should've noticed on the first shot. You now understand why the showman was looking at you that way, he must have been happy to see someone that was dumb enough to spend all their money in his stand, from the beginning he knew you wouldn't win because no one that plays along the rules does. 

 “I am so proud of you, malyshka,” she added, the sound of her voice pulling you out of the spiral of your thoughts - a deadly one.

The lower part of your back is now pressed against the stand, she turned you around so she could admire every feature of your face.

“Stop lying,” you mumbled, the expression on your face not matching the smile on hers - she is smiling but you want to cry, fearing that you might have disappointed her because of your mistakes.

“I am serious,” she immediately said, not leaving you a chance to argue. Her hand gently grabs your chin, lifting your head until your eyes meet hers. “It even makes me want to see you try with live targets now, you must be so hot…,” she continued, her thumb brushing your cheek as she gets lost in the pleasant scene her mind is playing.

But you are not enjoying it as much as she does. A shiver of disgust shakes your body at this simple image, the one of your hands covered in the blood of your victim.

You are not a murderer, nor a monster.

Even after meeting the redhead and being dragged into her chaotic life, you’ve never done a thing that was illegal. If you know about her activities, she always makes sure that you are nothing more than a witness. She likes her women to be innocent, she used to toss them as soon as she felt their souls started to be corrupted, but she was slowly changing her mind. 

For the first time, she wants to see her sweet thing with blood on her back. There is nothing that could please her more than to see the glimpse of darkness in your eyes growing until you are too deep in it to step back. 

For the first time she wanted to fully introduce her girl to her reality.

She wanted to corrupt you as much as she wanted to protect your innocence. There is no word to describe how much she appreciates this oblivious expression of yours and, right now, she is not missing a thing about the one on your face. She revels in the mixture of fear and disgust she could read on your face.

“I was joking,” she sighed, “so don’t worry your pretty little head with that, okay baby?” she said and you believed her, nodding.

You couldn’t see the smirk on her face - the only hint that she was lying - because she leans forward to kiss the top of your head, her hand brushing your temple one last time before she pulls away. You immediately whine, trying to grip on her arm so she wouldn’t leave but this only makes her laugh. 

“Go get your prize now, so we can get home,” she said, ignoring the pleading look you’re giving her to gesture towards the showman.

You turn around and, indeed, you see that the man was impatiently waiting for you to make your choice, he probably couldn’t wait to get rid of you and your problematic girlfriend. You immediately point to one of the biggest stuffed toys, similar to yours, but before the showman could make a move, Natasha shook her head, showing that she disagrees with your choice. She takes your arm and gently moves it so you’re now pointing at the shelf where the smallest plushies are displayed.

“It’s one of those or nothing,” she said, her stern tone leaving no room for discussion. 

She obviously doesn’t care about the pout on your face. She considers that she has already been pretty nice by gifting you that giant stuffed toy, so she definitely won’t bring a second one home.

“Fine …,” you replied, frustrated that you couldn’t freely choose, but it was the perfect opportunity to make her regret her decision.

You missed nothing of her expression when the showman took the strawberry bunny that was on the shelf. She rolled her eyes, obviously you choose the most childish of all, but she decides that the smile on your face as you’re handed it to her is worth everything. She gladly takes it, and even if she tries to pretend she doesn’t like it, you don’t fall for her lies. The kisses she lays on the top of your head, then on your lips, are enough to convince you to keep your sneaky words to yourself, enjoying the moment the two of you were sharing.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO REQUEST

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