#natasha romanoff x you
wandanatsversion · a day ago
You're not you when you're hungry
Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: Natasha Romanoff breaks into your house. Which is weird because one; why is Natasha Romanoff breaking into your house? and two; she's supposed to be dead.
Warnings: useless lesbians, a tiny bit of angst, some fluff, brief mention of alcohol, therapy, arguments, some mention of past trauma
Word count: 11k
a/n: from the vault. kind of starts off as a crack fic, and then becomes a bit less of a crack fic. one of the first fics i've ever written. avengers endgame spoilers and also spiderman no way home spoilers kind of ig.. anyways i love natasha <3
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Half of your attention is already focused on figuring out what pizza toppings you want as you exit your car and slowly walk towards your front door. The day was long and exhausting and you've spent the last couple of hours daydreaming about finally going home, ordering some food, putting on comfier clothes, and watching TV for the rest of the night.
Opening the door to your quiet and empty house. You don't notice anything out of the ordinary. You're almost done with your order but before you can place it you're rudely interrupted by someone roughly pushing you against the wall. You groan in pain once your back makes contact with the hard surface.
"Do not scream.” a woman’s deep voice grunts out and you feel a blade press against your throat.
Your initial shock is replaced by panic, as the reality of the situation slowly sinks in and you start to feel your heart rate quicken as fear takes over you. Your house is being robbed. This woman is about to kill you. You should have gone to buy food in person, maybe that way she’d be gone by the time you came home.
Your spiraling thoughts are stopped by the woman expertly spinning you around. She pushes the front of your body against the wall and pins your hands behind your back. Once she feels she has a strong enough hold on you she pulls you away from the wall and, without a word, leads you to the kitchen. You’re sure your wrists will be bruised tomorrow. If you live to see it.
The woman pushes you onto one of the chairs at your kitchen table. You realise she doesn’t have anything to tie you to the chair with as she slowly steps away from you. She’s still pointing the knife at you, making sure you see it as she tells you not to move.
You are finally able to see her as she moves away from you and leans on the kitchen counter. She watches you as your jaw drops at the realisation of who she is.
She can see you want to say something, so she continues to stare at you until you finally spit it out.
“You’re Natasha Romanoff.”
You’re almost relieved. She wouldn’t hurt you. Would she?
“Yeah,” she responds casually as she places the knife down on the counter. “I am.” You notice there are, what looks like, fresh bruises along her exposed arms, accompanied by scattered cuts, and specks of blood. “Why do you not have any food?”
The question throws you off. It’s almost comical. A few minutes ago, she attacked you in your hallway, held a knife to your throat, and now she looks like she's angry with you for not having food in your fridge.
“Is that why you broke into my house?” you ask, your previous fear replaced with some form of delusional confidence. “To steal my food?”
She doesn’t say anything as she proceeds to rampage through your cupboards. She must have felt you watching her because she turns around abruptly and glares at you.
“What?” she spits out.
“You’re Natasha Romanoff” you say again. Dumbfounded. “And I wasn’t expecting visitors, I would have cleaned up a bit in here if I knew you were coming over.”
She laughs at that.
“You could have bought some food, too.”
“I was going to order dinner today,” you recall your earlier attempt at ordering a pizza.
“Can you order something then?” she asks you. Clearly desperate to get some food into her system.
“Can you put the knife away?” you ask. She gives you a pointed look. Trying to figure out if you’re trying to trick her. She’s the Black Widow, you know trying to ‘trick her’ wouldn’t pan out well for you.
“I’m not going to scream or run,” you try to convince her. “Why would I?” she watches you intently as you speak. “You saved the world,” you pause, “The whole universe,” you correct. You start to slowly stand up from your chair.
“What are you talking about?” she asks you, glancing towards where the knife is on the counter.
“I don’t know how you’re here right now,” you step forward. “What do you remember?”
She brings her hands up to her head, pressing down on her temples. You notice her distress and convince her to sit down. “Here, have the knife if you want,” you tell her as you slowly pass over the knife to her, trying to look as harmless as possible while holding the weapon. She takes it and places it on the table that she’s now sitting at. You give her a glass of water. She watches you with caution.
“I’ll go grab my phone and order us something to eat, okay?” you ask her slowly.
She nods her head.
You walk back into the hallway quickly and spot your phone on the floor by the entrance door. You must have dropped it.
“Do you like pizza?” you ask Natasha as you walk back into the kitchen.
“Yeah, just get anything, I’m starving.” she says. Her leg is bouncing, and she’s fiddling with the new saltshaker you bought earlier this week. She’s getting impatient.
You finish up the food order, and sit opposite her, hoping the pizza gets delivered quickly.
You don’t bring up why it’s so weird that she’s in your house right now. Deciding to wait until after she has eaten.
The pizza comes and as the bell rings she warns you not to say a word about her to the delivery person. You’re reminded that technically you are still her hostage. You say “Of course.” as you make your way to the front door to get the food.
“I’m sorry about this,” she says after she has finished eating. You look at her confused, still chewing on your slice. “Breaking into your house,” she starts to explain “holding a knife to your throat.”
You nod your head in realisation, “Yeah, that. It’s fine, you were hungry” you joke. She laughs again.
“And besides, I owe you more than just one pizza.”
“How come?” you can hear the intrigue in her voice.
“You literally saved everyone’s lives,” you say “mine included.” You take a sip of your drink and decide now’s the time to explain this to her.
You have no idea how to go about this. She just stares at you, as you try to find the right words, you give up after a while, realising there really isn’t a right way to say it. So you just come out with it.
“You died.” you say slowly. “Sacrificed yourself.”
She scoffs “I’m not dead”
“Yeah, I see that,” you think for a second, trying and, again, failing to understand what’s going on. “That’s why this is so weird.”
She asks you why you think she died and you explain everything to her. The whole Thanos thing, time-traveling, the mountain that you don’t remember the name of. You tell her everything you remember reading and seeing on the news, and how without her sacrifice half of the universe would still be blipped away.
She looks astonished.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” you try again.
She thinks for a second.
“I remember fighting with Clint,” she says closing her eyes to try and think back to that moment. “on the Vormir.” she says reminding you of the name.
“Yes!” you shout a bit too loud; it was bugging you that you couldn’t remember what it was called, “that’s the name.”
She smiles, amused by your reaction.
“We fought and then-” she pauses. “I don’t know.” she says starting to look a bit frustrated. “I was there, and it was dark and scary, and then all of a sudden it was sunny, and I was in some park.” she recalls. “I was on the ground, and thought I must have slipped or something” she shrugs “so I got up and continued to walk, but then I realised I had no idea where I was” you listen to her intently.
“Then I saw this place” she refocuses all her attention to you now, leans forward on the table “and it looked easy enough to break into.”
“Good to know.” you mumble.
She leans back into her seat. “I was really hungry” she goes on “plan was to get some food, maybe make a call, and go” she takes another bite of the leftover pizza. “but you had no food, and came home way sooner than I expected.”
“So, what actually happened then?” she presses on. “I died?” she asks in an eerily casual manner.
“You had to sacrifice someone to get the stone” you explain to her again. “So, you sacrificed yourself.”
“And it worked?” she asks hopeful, “Everyone was saved?”
“The blip un-blipped, yes.” you say. Cautious. Not knowing how to say that not everyone survived. Unsure of her closeness to Iron Man.
Her eyes light up at the revelation. But then the look is replaced with one of worry. “What now though?” she asks. “How come I’m not dead?” you can practically see the wheels spinning. “Is that going to reverse the whole thing?” You try to rack your brain for some kind of explanation. “Does the sacrifice not count?” She keeps firing questions at you.
You groan and slump back into your chair, “This is too complicated.”
“I need to call Stark.” she says.
This is exactly what you didn’t want to do. You never had to announce someone’s death to anyone before today. You just announce someone’s own death to them. Which is definitely a first. And now you have to tell her that her colleague? Friend? is dead too. You decide to just say it.
“He’s dead.”
Her head snaps to you.
“He died fighting Thanos”
“That’s impossible, Thor killed Thanos” she gets up from the table abruptly.
“That was in the future” you try to explain. “You travelled back in time, to when he was still alive.”
“He killed Tony?” Natasha asks looking defeated. You motion for her to sit back down. She does.
You want to comfort her, but you don’t know her and don’t want to cross any boundaries, so you stay still in your chair. Watching for her reaction.
“What year is it now?” she asks once she thinks over what you said.
“It’s 2024,” you say. “December 16th.”
She nods her head.
“So Stark and I died last year”
“Technically it was in 2014,” your head hurts. This is so confusing. “But yeah, you lived until 2023, that’s when you time-travelled.” she groans and rests her forehead on the table.
“If I was somehow resurrected,” she muses “then maybe so was Tony.” She speaks, still face down on the kitchen table, you barely hear her.
“You can borrow my phone if you want to make some calls or something.” You say after a while of silence. Unsure of what she plans to do now.
“Actually,” she pauses. “Would it be okay if I crashed here for the night?”
You nod your head “Of course,” you say as you get up from the table. “Anything you need.” you reassure her.
“I’ll get the guest room ready.” you tell her as you make your way out of the kitchen. She stays seated at the table. Most likely needing a moment to process everything. You don’t blame her. It’s a lot.
You’re just finishing putting fresh bed sheets on the bed when she slowly approaches the room and knocks lightly on the door. Your house is small so it wasn’t hard finding you.
“Thank you.” she says as you finish up in the guest room.
“It’s really no problem,” you say. You go to give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. But she seems to flinch once your hand touches her shoulder, causing you to quickly retract your hand.
“Let me know if you need anything,” you say as you slowly make your way out of the room.
You only let yourself freak out once you’re in the safe confinement of your own room. You scream into your pillow, a pointless attempt at ‘relaxation’ after the incredibly tense couple of hours that you just experienced. You’re not scared of the Black Widow, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t intimidated by her. Not due to the fact that she could kill you without even breaking a sweat, mainly just because she is so fucking hot.
You lay on your back now. Starring at the ceiling. Thinking back to all the times you’ve seen her on the news. Always so composed, powerful, and so incredibly attractive. You couldn’t help being attracted to her. Who wouldn’t be?
After taking some time to collect yourself, you decide to check your phone. It’s 8:26PM. You think about what Natasha could possibly be doing right now. Then your mind drifts to tomorrow. You want to make her breakfast. You owe her at least one, nice home-cooked meal.
So, you decide that the best thing to do is to go do some late-night grocery shopping.
You make your way over to the guest room, knocking on the door lightly. No response.
You try again, this time a bit louder, but there is still no indication of anyone on the other side of the door.
You decide to open it quietly and peak in. Natasha is asleep in the bed, looking all cosy and harmless under the soft covers. You can’t help but smile at the sight. You close the door quietly and make your way back to your room, deciding to write her a note in case she wakes up while you’re gone.
Just went to get some groceries. I’ll be back soon.
You laugh slightly as you realise you haven’t even introduced yourself to her.
Sleep didn’t come easy. The events of the evening kept replaying in your mind over and over, essentially keeping you up for most of the night. You did manage to fall asleep eventually, but soon after were awoken by the alarm you’ve set. You wanted to wake up before Natasha to surprise her with breakfast.
After putting on some clothes and getting cleaned up in your bathroom you make your way to the kitchen.
You decided to make pancakes.
After about half an hour you’ve got two nicely prepared plates ready. You let out a sigh of relief when you hear her bedroom door open. You were starting to worry she wasn’t going to wake up any time soon, and her food would get cold.
“Good morning.” you say, as she enters the room. “I made you breakfast.” you smile brightly and point at the table where the plates are set.
“Oh wow” her eyes light up. “When did you have time for all that?” she asks as she sits at the table and digs in.
“I went to buy some groceries last night.” you say, leaving out the part where you saw her sleeping, not wanting to sound like a creep. “I left you a note, but I guess you didn’t see it” you say as you take a bite of your own pancake.
“No, I didn’t.” she says, covering her mouth as she chews. “I fell asleep pretty fast.”
You nod at her response and your little conversation dies down when the two of you refocus your attention on eating breakfast.
“So do you know what you’re going to do?” you ask once you finish eating.
“I think I like the idea of the world thinking I’m dead,” she shrugs. “Makes my job easier.”
“So, you’re not going to try and pull a Jesus Christ, and start your own religion?” You ask trying to sound as serious as you can as you finish cleaning the plates and turn back towards her, wiping your hands on a kitchen towel.
She lets out a humorous laugh.
“I didn’t think about that.” she waves her pointer finger around and rubs her chin as she nods her head, pretending to be thinking over your suggestion.
“Well, if that’s what you decide on, I’d like to be the first member.” you make your way back to the table.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” she says, and then it’s quiet again.
She’s looking at you, with a weird look in your eyes, as if she's studying you. You’re trying to keep yourself together.
“What is it?” you ask her.
“Nothing, nothing, it’s just that-” she pauses briefly. “this is very strange isn’t it,” She gets up. “Can we sit on the couch?”
You stay frozen in your seat. Suddenly remembering what you heard on the radio on your way home from work yesterday. You hear Natasha let out a sigh as she sits on the comfortable couch.
“You okay?” she asks you, noticing your lack of movement.
“You just reminded me of something” you say as you turn to look at her. “I heard something on the news last night. Maybe it can explain why you’re here.” you make your way towards her, getting your phone from your pocket. “Alive, I mean”
You sit very close to her. Your sides almost touching. You don’t realise it, due to the rush of possibly being able to explain the current situation and your determination to find out if your hunch is correct.
Natasha does, however, notice your close proximity. Her breath hitches in her throat for a split second. And she sits as still as she possibly can. She’s not sure if she wants to pull you closer or if she wants to push you away.
“Strange,” you say ripping her away from her thoughts. “Dr. Strange,” you repeat again. “They spoke about him on the news,” you type on your phone trying to see what happened. “In New York” you skim through some article. Natasha leans in towards you trying to see what you’re looking at.
In that moment you realise just how close you really are and you start to get nervous. Thinking maybe you should move away, but then if you do she won’t see the phone, so you stay where you are and continue to read the article. “umm-” you clear your throat awkwardly, trying to recollect your thoughts. “Here look,” you point to a line in the text. Natasha hums and nods, as her eyes read over what you’re pointing at.
“A spell gone wrong?” she questions.
“Yeah look it says a bunch of people from different universes came in to fight Spider-Man”
You turn and face her fully, propping yourself up on your knees on the couch and draping your arm over the headrest. “Did you want to fight Spider Man?” you ask her seriously.
“Not that I remember.” she chuckles.
“He must have pulled in a bunch of people from different universes, and you just happened to be one of them.” You think out loud as you search the internet for any more information but there isn’t much else being said at the moment. “He pulled you from a universe in which you were still alive” you go on, “maybe about to die,” you say, remembering what she has told you yesterday. “Into one in which you have already died”.
“Yeah, but didn’t the article also say that he sent them back?” she questions.
You groan in frustration realising she’s right and copy her position on the couch. Sitting forward again, and leaning your head on the headrest.
“How about we stop focusing on the ‘how?’, or the ‘why?’ and just be happy that you’re alive?” you ask. Starting to give up on making sense of this.
“Aw you’re happy I’m alive?” she bumps into your shoulder lightly, teasing you.
“Of course, I am.” you turn your head over to her when you feel her looking at you. Her eyes are captivating.
“Do you know my name? I kinda forgot to introduce myself yesterday.” you say awkwardly. Looking away from her again. Trying to ignore the feelings she’s igniting within you.
"y/n” she says softly. You sit up now. Putting some distance between the two of you. Hearing your name on her lips sent a shiver down your spine.
“I looked through your things” She says casually.
“Of course, you did.” you laugh, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach.
You look over at the clock on the wall noticing it is almost 11AM. Getting up from the couch, “Well,” you clap your hands together as you turn around and face Natasha who is still sitting on the sofa, her head leaning back and her eyes closed. She slowly opens her eyes and looks at you when she hears you speak. “I have to go to work,” you announce. “If you’ll let me, Miss Captor.” you joke.
She sits up, and her whole composure changes to a much more serious one as she recalls the reality of the situation. Maybe she won’t let you go to work?
“You’re not going to tell anyone about me, are you?” She seems to be considering her options.
“Of course not” you reassure her. “No one would believe me even if I did.”
“Go then” she tells you, “ I mean you already left last night” she continues “Without my permission, might I add” she’s joking now, you can hear it in her voice. You laugh lightly and make your way to your room to get ready to leave.
Being your own boss gives you the perks of working on your own time. Any other day you would have just chosen to stay home, it’s not every day that Natasha Romanoff shows up at your house. But today you have an important meeting that you need to be at, so, unfortunately, you cannot take the day off.
Before you leave, you make your way back to the living room where you find Natasha still laying on the couch. “There’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry,” you say as you point to the fridge behind you. “Netflix on the TV,” you say as you place the remote on the coffee table. She just stares at you without saying anything. “uhh-” you stand up straight and scratch the back of your neck, feeling nervous under her intense gaze. “I should be home around six” you tell her. “Okay.” she says finally. “Okay” you reply awkwardly “see you later.” you say as your make your way towards the front door.
After a day spent thinking about the resurrected Natasha Romanoff back at your house, you are finally able to leave after you finish all your work for the day.
When you open the front door, you notice the house is dark and quiet. All the lights are off and there is no sign of Natasha in the kitchen or in the living room. The bathroom is empty too. You think maybe she went to bed early, so you do as you did the night before and open the guestroom door as quietly as you can, only to find it completely empty. You turn the light on and see that the bed is nicely made and there is a note lying on top of it.
Thank you for hosting me for the night. Once again, sorry for breaking into your house and attacking you with a knife. Out of all the houses, I’m glad I chose yours to break into, it was nice meeting you.
P.S. I hope you don’t mind I took some of your clothes. And your knife. xx
You sigh in disappointment as you re-read the note and sit down on the bed. You know it’s unrealistic, but you were hoping she would stay longer.
A few minutes go by of you just lying on the bed trying to make sense of the last 24 hours. Eventually, you get up and make your way to your own room, wanting to see what clothes she took. You open your closet and notice one of your favourite hoodies is missing. You look around the room and in the laundry, but you cannot find it anywhere. You roll your eyes, as you realise that she must have taken it.
A few weeks have passed since you had the pleasant but brief visit from the Black Widow. You have quickly gotten back to your usual life, which mainly consists of work, and the occasional night out with your friends. You try your best to forget having ever crossed paths with Natasha, but your attempts are futile.
The first two-or-so weeks after she left you checked the news whenever you could, which must have been at least fifty times a day. Desperate to see anything about her ‘resurrection’. You felt like you were going crazy. You even started to doubt whether the encounter even happened.
It’s early February when you are awoken in the middle of the night by loud banging on your front door.
You hurry out of bed and scramble towards the door. Opening it, you are greeted by a short blond woman. Before you can say anything, she pushes you aside and barges into your house.
“Nat?” she shouts, as she storms around your house.
You cross your arms over your chest. “Can I help you?” you ask as you follow her to your living area.
“Where is she?” the woman asks.
She hands you a piece of paper that simply reads:
Meet me here
Followed by your address, and a little scribble of what looks like a sideways drawn pointy bowtie.
“Natasha.” she says.
“She’s not here.” You respond as you watch her take an apple from the bowl of food on the table and take a bite out of it. It’s like Natasha all over again.
“She was here?” the woman asks shocked, pointing to the ground.
You suddenly remember what Natasha told you, about not wanting anyone to know she’s alive. “Natasha Romanoff is dead.” You say, trying to sound as convincing as possible.
The blonde scoffs. “Last time I checked dead people can’t write.” She snatches the piece of paper from you as she turns around to leave. Before she exits the kitchen, she turns back to you and with a pointed finger says “I’ll be coming back.”
“Can’t wait” you mumble.
The kitchen door slams shut behind her and you think she’s gone, even though you didn’t hear the front door close. You stand in the kitchen for a while trying to comprehend what just happened. You’re about to make your way back to your room when you hear voices coming from your hallway.
You open your kitchen door and there she is.
She’s leaning against the closed front door, as the blond woman is hugging her, and you think you notice her shaking as if she was crying. Natasha gives you a soft smile. Before she gives you a pleading look, asking for some privacy. You nod and go lie down on the couch in the living room. For some reason, the feeling of jealousy washes over you when you think back to the scene you just witnessed.  Who is that woman? Is she Natasha’s girlfriend? The idea makes you inexplicably uncomfortable. Before you can dwell on it too much the kitchen door swings open and in walk the two women.
“Thanks for letting us meet here.” Natasha says, as she sits down at the kitchen table. You sit up on the couch so you can look at the two of them better. She must have noticed you looking at the blonde because she speaks again.
“Yelena, this is y/n.” Yelena takes a seat at the table opposite Natasha as she sends a small nod in your direction.
“y/n, this is my sister Yelena.” you feel your stomach do summersaults at the nickname she used for you. And are also overcome with relief at the fact that Yelena is Natasha’s sister.
“Sorry for barging in like that earlier.” Yelena says. You nod, still trying to wrap your head around the situation. “You know I didn’t ever say you two could meet here.” you say looking over to Natasha.
“Don’t be like that,” Natasha warns. “She’s an assassin too, you know?” she winks at you with a smirk.
Two assassins in your house. You groan and throw yourself back on the couch.
You lay down for a few more minutes, your eyes closed. It is still the middle of the night and you would have probably dozed off if it wasn’t for the noises coming from the kitchen. Natasha and Yelena have fallen into casual conversation. Well, as casual as chatting about your dead sister resurrecting gets.
You slowly sit up again and open your eyes, curious as to what it is they are doing in your kitchen. You smile when you notice that they have helped themselves to the food in your fridge. Natasha is eating the leftover store-bought salad you didn’t finish last night, while Yelena is eating a sandwich you made. You were planning to take that to work tomorrow. You look over to the clock. 4AM. Correction, take it to work today.
“Hey!” you say pointing at the sandwich. “That was supposed to be my lunch for work today.” you sit at the table next to Natasha. Yelena gives you a fake apologetic look as she continues to eat the sandwich. “Is it good at least?” you ask her.
“Delicious.” she says with her mouth full.
You look over to Natasha. “I’m not trying to be rude,” you pause as you push your chair away from her. “But why are you here?”
She stays quiet. The silence making you feel like you need to keep talking so you go on. “I mean, you just left,” you say remembering the last time you saw her. “That was pretty shitty of you.” you tell her as she looks at you with a shocked expression making you feel like you shouldn’t have said that.
“I left you a note.”
That reminds you that she took your clothes. “Did you at least bring me back my hoodie?”
You can feel Yelena’s eyes on you. She’s probably enjoying the show.
“How do you know each other?” Yelena butts into your little argument.
You look over at her. “She broke into my house.” you pause “and stole my clothes.”
“I did not steal your clothes.”
You raise your eyebrow at her challengingly, asking her to explain what actually happened then. With a frustrated groan, she places her fork down on the table and spends the next five or ten minutes explaining to Yelena the exact moment she ‘came back’. You zone out around the part about you ordering pizza, placing your head on the table, and resting your eyes.
“So, what about the clothes?” Yelena muses.
“I borrowed them.”
That grabs your attention.
You lift your head off the table and try to will your eyes to adjust to the bright light when you open them. “Did you bring back my hoodie?” you ask again.
“Not exactly.” She gets up from the table, “Do you have juice?” She asks, changing the subject as she opens your fridge. You put your head down on the table again with a soft thud, and your heart swells when you hear Natasha laugh at your antics.
“When are you guys going to leave?” you mumble, still resting your head on the table.
Yelena feigns hurt with a loud dramatic gasp.
“I think we need to talk more about what you’re planning to do now.” Yelena says, probably to Natasha. The hard table is starting to hurt your forehead, so you sit up and rub at it as you watch Natasha pour herself a glass of your orange juice. She gives you a smile when she sees you watching, and you roll your eyes.
“We’ll talk more tomorrow.” she says. “Can Yelena sleep here tonight?”
“If you guys don’t mind sharing a bed.” You shrug.
They both say thank you and you don’t respond, knowing that it wasn’t much of a question anyway. You stay sat in the kitchen as the two of them leave to go to the guest room, Natasha leading the way. It makes you feel weird the way she moves around your house like she lives here. You love living alone but the idea of sharing a home with Natasha is nice. You shake off the warm feeling and go back to your room, ready to finally get some rest.
You fall asleep and don’t wake up until the late afternoon. When you check the time and hear the silence in the house you are overcome with an immediate sense of dread. She left. You don’t know how but you know, deep down, that she is gone again. Your feeling is confirmed when you finally get the energy to get up and look around the house. Empty. The bed in the guest room is made, and this time there is no note. A part of you, a stupid hopeful part of you, thinks that maybe they just went out to buy food. You scoff at that though and make your way back to your room. Still, you wait around all day for Natasha to return. She doesn’t.
Life has been good. Natasha has not shown up in the last six months. The last two of which you spent not thinking about her. Initially, you kept thinking she’d come back like she did the first time, but after a while, you realised that she probably just needed a place to meet up with her sister and that was it. That was all you were to her. A safe house.
Around month two you even considered moving out. The anticipation of whether or not she was going to return was becoming unbearable, and the only way to put an end to the guessing game was to move away. But you liked your house and moving is such a hustle. So, you decided to stay. You wouldn’t say it out loud or even allow yourself to have a conscious thought about this but deep down you wanted to see her again, so moving away wasn't truly an option.
Money wasn’t an issue either. Your business has been thriving. You have recently been able to move your company to a bigger, and much fancier building. You started off as some random girl posting pictures of herself wearing her self-made clothes on the internet. Then you started getting questions about where you bought the dress, or the shirt, or those jeans. And now you have dozens of people working for you, all in charge of different things, and you, in charge of all of them. It comes with its benefits, but it also comes with responsibilities. You are constantly working on designing new, never before seen outfits, while simultaneously making sure everything goes well with the already designed, made, and sold products. You barely even have time to think about Natasha, since the recent increase in traffic that your clothing company has been getting.
Some would say you have been drowning yourself in your work as a distraction from the unjustified pain Natasha has caused you. You barely know her; thus you don’t feel entitled to feel that way because of her, making the pain even harder to deal with.
“I just worry about you, is all.”
You’re on the phone with your friend. She’s going to her aunt’s wedding and needs a dress. “You deserve a break. And I know how much you love shopping.” You drink the rest of the water in your cup before you nod your head, realising she can’t see you, you respond verbally “Sure.” She squeals and you move the phone away from your ear. “Pick me up in an hour?” you hear a chant of yeses and then the line cuts off.
You come home after about four hours of retail therapy, and you hate to admit it but she was right, you did need a break from the work. It was nice. But the feeling of lightness is fleeting and is soon replaced with agitation when you see your hoodie hanging over the armrest of the couch. The hoodie Natasha took. In an instant, you are filled with anger. Why can’t she just leave you alone? You were finally starting to forget about her, you haven’t thought of her in days, and then she pulls this shit. You look around the house trying to see if she’s there, but the house is empty. She must have just dropped it off. You do not like how easy it is for her to enter your house. You make a mental note to get the locks changed.
You don’t touch the hoodie. Not sure what to do with it. You don’t want to wear it anymore, and you don’t know if you should wash it, so you just leave it where she left it. At first, it was an eyesore. Mocking you and your dumb feelings every time you entered the open space occupied by your kitchen and the living room. She could have at least left it in the guest room where you could have just closed it behind a door.
But eventually, it became a part of the background. Like a decoration, a random trinket on the shelf that you never notice anymore.
You were doing the laundry one day and thought about how insane it is that you’re acting like this over an item of clothing. She probably never even wore it anyway. So, determine, you walk to the living room and grab the hoodie. But before you can make your way back to put it in the washing machine with the rest of your clothes you check the pockets and notice a piece of paper in one of them. Your heart stops for a second before you roll your eyes at your reaction to what is probably just trash. You quickly realise it is, in fact, not trash. It's a note.
Call me.
Followed by a phone number.
Your heartbeat goes up to an alarming rate. You sit down. The hoodie has been thrown over the armrest of your couch for like a month. Natasha probably thinks you’ve had her number this whole time and haven’t called her. Before you can feel bad about it you remember that she has left, for months, without a word. Twice.
You are now faced with a difficult choice. One which takes you about a week to make. On one hand, you’re pretty sure you like her. Like, like like her.  Which is dumb, you don’t even know her. But on the other hand, you have been doing well. Moving on from the roller coaster of emotions she has brought with her from the grave, was difficult, but you were doing it. And now she wants to drag you right back onto the ride.
You decide to call her. While the phone rings you also decide that maybe you should start seeing your therapist again.
“Who is this?” her voice will always do things to you.
“Um, hi Natasha.” You answer awkwardly, trying to ignore the feelings hearing her voice has ignited within you. “It’s me, y/n.”
“Oh,” her voice is hard to read, you’re not sure if that’s disappointment or confusion. Or something else entirely. “I was starting to think you’d never call.”
“I didn’t realise you left your number.”
“I guess I should have left the note on the table or something.” She says as she laughs awkwardly.
You go to lie down on your bed. There is an elephant in the room that neither of you are addressing and it’s making the conversation more awkward than you thought it was going to be.
“Well, thanks for giving the hoodie back.” You break the silence. “I should probably get back to work.” you lie, you have the rest of the day off, but at this point you would rather just go back to work than have to be in this conversation a second longer.
“Wait.” she pauses briefly. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?” you ask. You are mad at her for just appearing and disappearing from your house and playing with your emotions, but you know that that isn’t something you have a right to be mad at her for, and it certainly isn’t something she needs to be apologising for.
She seems to think for a second. “I-” the line goes silent for a second, and you check the screen, to make sure you haven’t lost connection. You haven’t. “I don’t know, forget it.” you hear her sigh on the other side of the line. “It’s stupid.”
“Can I ask where you are?” You don’t know why you asked that. Do you even really want to know?
“In Missouri.” That’s like a three-hour flight from you. “I’m staying with a friend.”
You hum, unsure of what to say. “Why did you give me your number?” You don't want to beat around the bush anymore. She obviously doesn’t want you to get off the phone, so you might as well get her to answer your questions.
She stays quiet for a second before she says, “I don’t know.” again. That seems to be her go-to right now. You sigh and roll your eyes.
“Well, you have my phone number now, so if you figure it out you can let me know.” You say, feeling the frustration growing in you. You don’t know what you were expecting from the phone call, but you weren’t getting anything, and it hurt.
Natasha hears the beep signaling that she has been hung up on. She curses under her breath and throws her phone on the bed, banging her head against the wall repeatedly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
She is disrupted from her self-loathing by a soft knock on the door.
“Come in.” she says, resting her head against the wall, as the door opens revealing a concerned-looking Clint.
“You okay?” he closes the door behind him, seeing that Natasha is clearly in some kind of emotional turmoil and probably needs to vent.
“No.” She knows that Clint already knew that but answers anyway as she sits down next to him on the bed.
“I think I like someone.” She admits. She has had plenty of time to think about this and to feel stupid about it. She just needs someone else to talk about it with now, and what better person for that than her best friend.
“Uuuuuhh.” Clint drags out, teasingly. Natasha takes a pillow and hides her face in it. She feels like a teenager with a high school crush. “Is it who I think it is?” Clint asks curiously as he drags the pillow away from Natasha and hits her with it lightly.
They spend the next half an hour in her room talking about the girl whose house she broke into, almost a year ago now. Natasha confesses that she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you. And describes what feels like an invisible pull dragging her back to L.A. She tells Clint about how she wants to see you again, but she feels weird about it because she doesn’t even know you. You spent maybe a day together, and yet somehow, she can’t get you out of her head. Clint listens intently to Natasha blabber on about the mysterious woman, he has already heard quite a bit about. If he was being honest, he would have sent Natasha back to L.A. weeks ago. Her longing stares and inner battles were becoming too annoying for him to have to see every day. But he knows Natasha, and he knows that he should let her do things at her own pace.
“I just got off the phone with her.”
This grabs Clint’s attention and he sits up abruptly. “What did you talk about?” he watches as Natasha looks down.
“Nothing.” Clint raises his eyebrow. “Literally nothing.” Natasha elaborates. “I didn’t know what to say. And she sounded annoyed with me.”
Clint places a hand on Natasha’s shoulder for comfort. “You should call her again and ask her if you can come see her.” Natasha’s head shoots up in shock at the suggestion. “Or would you rather just break into her house uninvited again?” he jokes.
Natasha laughs but says nothing, Clint can see she’s thinking about it. “Let’s have dinner, Laura cooked. And you can take some time to decide whether you want to call her again or not.”
Some Doja Cat song is blasting through the speakers as you swing back another shot and follow the girl that just asked you to dance. You weren’t expecting the phone call with Natasha to leave you in the state that it did, but you couldn’t stay cooped up in your house much longer. You decided to call up a few of your friends and go out. They were all happy to finally hear from you after you haven’t gone out with them in months, so they were all quick to agree to the sudden outing you had arranged. One of them, you think it’s Brandon, is currently cheering you on from the table he’s at when he sees you be dragged away to the dance floor.
The girl is pretty. You try to focus on her. The music is blaring and the lights are flashing and you really are trying to focus on what the girl in front of you is saying but your mind keeps going back to the phone call you had earlier today, the hoodie, the first night she showed up at your house, the pizza you ate, her smile, her laugh.
“Are you listening to me?” the girl laughs, probably too drunk to actually care. “Do you wanna get out of here?” she leans in and whispers in your ear. Before you can answer you feel your phone buzz in your pocket.
You pull out your phone, mindlessly, not even thinking to check whose calling. “I have to take this.” You inform the woman and quickly make your way out of the club.
“Hello?” you say once you’re finally outside. It’s the middle of the summer so it’s not as cold as you were initially expecting.
But you freeze anyway.
“Natasha.” you say, breathless all of a sudden, “What is it?” you lean against the wall for support, feeling the alcohol hit you, or maybe it’s something else.
“Can I come see you?” she asks, you can hear the shake in her voice.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” You say honestly, you really want to see her. But you also know that you can’t deal with seeing her again if she’s just going to leave without a word, and not show up for another six months.
“I’ll just break into your house again then.” she tries to joke. You scoff, no longer finding the humour in that.
“Why do you want to see me anyway?” you ask. You hear shouting from across the street. You look over and see two men looking like they're about to have a fight.
“What’s that shouting?” Natasha must have heard it too.
“I’m out.” You brush her off. “Why do you want to see me?” you question again. There's a pause before she speaks again.
“I miss you.” She mutters quickly and before you even have time to register it, she goes on. “And we need to talk.” 
The fight across the street from you is getting louder and scarier, and you want to make your way back inside, so you decide to rush the call and end it. “Okay.” You say and you hear Natasha on the other side of the line let out a breath. “Do you need me to pick you up from the airport?” you ask, remembering she told you she’s in Missouri.
“No that’s okay.” She says. “I’ll text you when I’m close.” And with that, the phone call ends. You quickly make your way back inside to find your friends and tell them you’re going home.
You decide to go grocery shopping, in preparation for Natasha’s arrival. You received a text earlier today. It was a picture of a car parked on the side of an empty road, with a message saying the drive is long, but I should get to you by the end of the day. You realised she’s probably still trying to remain ‘presumed dead’ and she would most definitely be recognised if she tried to board a plane. You text her back asking what she would like for dinner. Only getting a response when you’re already in the store, you figured she must be driving. Pizza :)
You decided to take a week off work, unsure of how long Natasha plans to stay. As you drive up the road towards your house you notice the same car that was in the picture Natasha sent you, parked in your driveway. She arrived sooner than you expected. You pull up next to her and go to take the grocery bags out the back. It’s still sunny and warm outside, and you’re fully expecting Natasha to have already somehow made her way into your locked house and made herself at home like she usually does. If you can even call it a usual thing. Either way, you’re wrong. You hear the door of her car open and shut as she makes her way over to you. She’s wearing a baseball cap and her hair is pulled back, she's probably trying not to be recognised by anyone in the light of day.
“Hi.” she says, standing awkwardly unsure of how to greet you, and clearly nervous. You don’t understand what possible reason she has for feeling nervous.
“Hi Nat,” you respond taking the shopping bags out of the trunk. “Sorry, I just went shopping, did you wait long?”
She takes two of the four big bags from your car and helps you carry them to your front door. “No, I just got here.” She grunts as she puts the heavy bags down. “Do you usually buy this much food?” she muses as she turns around and waits for you to open the front door. You do and she follows you inside, kicking the door closed with the heel of her foot.
“Most of this I bought for you.” you say casually, she’s walking behind you towards the kitchen, so you don’t notice how Natasha’s face softens at the statement.
“I don’t eat that much.” She quickly tries to recover from her little moment of weakness.
You're happy when the two of you quickly fall into comfortable conversation while she helps you put all the groceries away. It's like you've known each other for years. She tells you about Clint Barton, and about how she has been staying with him at his farm. She also tells you about how she and her sister, Yelena, have been spending more and more time together, and about how she’s been coming to the farm. You can see she loves her sister very much from the way she talks about her. You feel happiness wash over you as she tells you about what she has been doing these past seven months. But you also feel guilty for being angry with her for leaving. She doesn’t know you, she obviously wanted to be with her family. And yet she’s here now. You wonder why.
“I can order pizza.” You tell her after the two of you finish putting away the shopping and she goes to sit down on the couch. The awkward silence has returned after a while, and you can tell there is something she wants to say, you know because you have something you want to say too.
You speak at the same time, and the two of you let out a laugh. “Go on, you say."
“No, it’s okay you can speak, what is it?” she asks as she pats the space next to her on the couch. She’s nervous. The woman who is supposed to be a collected and composed assassin is nervous. You must admit, seeing her like this helps you remember that she really is a human being with emotions, just like you. It helps calm your own nerves and you decide to speak. You’re done waiting and beating around the bush. You sit on the couch next to her, facing her and you ask what you have been wanting to ask for the last nine months.
“Can I take you on a date?”
Her eyes widen in surprise at your words, and you can feel yourself panic internally at the very real possibility of rejection.
“Oh my god.” she leans back into the couch. You think she sounds relieved. Your panic is now paired with confusion. A strange duo. You watch her carefully as she lays with her head on the backrest with her eyes closed.
“You know I almost accidentally crashed my car multiple times on the way over.” she admits opening her eyes and looking over at you again. The panic and confusion are quickly replaced with shock at her random confession. You don’t even have time to think about what that has to do with anything as you’re overcome with worry.
“What? Why? Are you okay?” you start to question before she sits up and stops you by holding up her hand and looking at you again. You want to look away from her eyes, but you make the conscious effort to continue looking into them. You notice they aren’t entirely green, there is a slight ring of brown around her pupils.
“I kept getting lost in daydreams about how I was going to ask you that same question.” She confesses and now it’s your turn to be surprised, “and also all the different ways you were going to reject me.”  
You can't help but laugh at that, shocked that Natasha Romanoff thought you were going to reject her. “Well, I guess I ruined your plans,” You state acutely aware that she hasn’t actually said yes to your question yet. “Is that a yes then? You’ll let me take you out?” You ask, feeling hopeful.
“Are you sure about this?” She asks, sounding insecure. “Did you think it through?” You look at her confused as to why she’s possibly thinking that you wouldn’t want to take her on a date. She seems to understand your silent question and goes on. “I’m on the run. I can’t go out in public. I have a lot of emotional baggage and issues.” she enunciates the ‘lot’ to really drive the point in. She pauses for a second, you watch her intently “I’m a mess.” she finishes off.
“You think you’re not good enough for me?” You question trying to ignore the desire to be closer to her.
She nods her head at your question.
“Well too bad.” You shrug. “Cause I’ve made up my mind”
You’re not sure where the confidence came from, maybe from the revelation that she wanted to ask you out too, but you leaned forward, your faces so close, your noses almost touching “and I want you.” You pull away just as you see her start to lean in.
“So” You pause and wait for her to open her eyes, “can I take you out on a date?”
The sunlight is peeking in from behind the curtains. You got home late from work last night but somehow you still managed to wake up before Natasha. She’s currently sleeping peacefully next to you. Looking over her shoulder you see the little calendar on her bedside table. There are six smiley faces drawn in a row, next to each date. You realise she has most likely finally reached seven.
Some time after you started dating and the two of you started sharing a bed you learned that Natasha has really bad night terrors. This is not surprising considering her past. Sometimes she’d tell you about them, and sometimes she’d just snuggle into you and try her best to fall back to sleep. You're a very light sleeper and woke up every time she did. She even tried to sleep in the guestroom, feeling bad for waking you up almost every night, but you didn’t let her. You asked her if she ever spoke about it with her therapist. And that was how she started her journey of trying to get those seven smiley faces. Have a nightmare-less night, seven nights in a row. You make a mental note to have a little celebration of her big achievement later. It’s Saturday so you decide to let Natasha sleep in. You spend maybe half an hour just lying around and scrolling on your phone before you feel her stirring awake next to you. You put your phone down and turn your body to face her.
“Good morning, Natty.” You say to her softly. She gives you a big grin before she closes her eyes again and sleepily hides her face in your neck. You stay cuddling for a while before you speak again.
“Did you sleep well?” you question hoping she had nice dreams. Still aware of the possibility of her having a nightmare and it just not waking her up.
“My smiley faces!” she exclaims as she sits up abruptly. You’re unsure if that is a good reaction or a bad one. You watch as she leans over to get her calendar and pen. Leaning up on your elbows slowly you watch her next move. She takes a deep breath and draws a smiley face next to today’s date. You squeal and push her back on the bed with excitement, she allows the calendar and pen to fall to the floor, as she lets you sit on top of her and attack her face with kisses while she lays back down on the bed. “You did it, baby.” You tell her as you reach her lips and give her a soft kiss, she chases after you as you pull away. There's a big grin on her face from the pride she feels.
You’re proud of her. Not only because of her achievement with the seven nightmare-free nights, but also because she is finally seeing her value, finally admitting that her achievements are because of her hard work, and not anyone else’s. Truth be told you didn’t actually have any idea what you were getting yourself into when you first asked Natasha out over a year ago. She wasn’t lying when she said she had a lot of issues.
You quickly learned that her immediate reaction when things got hard was to run. Sometimes just to get in her car and drive around for a while. Usually until you fell asleep, and then she’d take the spare room, and you’d talk the next day. And you understood that, she needed space and you gave it to her. What you weren’t a fan of were the nights she went for a drive and didn’t come back.
You recall one of the times your argument didn't go the way they usually do. It was a dumb argument. She wanted to move to a bigger house, with a bigger garden, in a more remote place. You understood where she was coming from, she wanted to have more freedom to roam around considering she was still trying to fly under the radar. But you felt it was too much too soon. At that point, you were only dating for about three months, and she was basically living with you but buying a house together was a big commitment that you didn’t know if you were ready to make. You must have dragged it on for too long because one night she just snapped, and a lot of things were said. From her rage-filled rant you learned that you not wanting to buy a house with her, felt to her like you didn’t see a future with her, she didn’t feel you loved her, she didn’t feel anyone could love her. She said she needed to get out because she was going crazy not being allowed to go outside much out of the fear she would be noticed. She said she didn’t know how much longer she can keep going. You weren’t sure what she meant by that last bit but before you could ask her, before you could say anything, she was out the door.
That night, like most other nights that ended with her storming out you went to bed. She would come back tomorrow, after she had cooled off and recollected her thoughts and emotions, and you would talk it through like you always did. Well, the morning came, and she was not back. Panic overtook you, and you spent the whole day pacing back and forth, calling and texting her. By the end of the day, you were so exhausted that you fell asleep without even realising it. You woke up the next day to a single message.
I’m going to stay with Clint for a while.
Another one of her "issues" was her lack of self-love. Not only did she have trouble loving herself she had trouble believing anyone else could love her. Every second you have spent with her this last year was filled with you trying to convince her you love her and teach her to love herself. You weren’t sure what you were doing, but you learned, read some articles you found on Google, watched some videos on YouTube. You even went to therapy with her a few times, when she allowed it. Those times were more focused on the two of you as a couple and how you guys worked and how you guys could work better. Sometimes you think that you two probably wouldn’t be together anymore if it wasn’t for Linda, Natasha’s therapist. You had your own as well, she was the one who recommended Linda to you when you spoke to her about your girlfriend, and the issues you guys have been having.
Natasha didn’t take it well the night you first mentioned her going to therapy. She knew you were going occasionally, but the thought of her seeing someone never crossed her mind. Too preoccupied with trying to stay under the radar, having a therapist learn everything about her wouldn’t be very clever. She called you a ‘dumb cunt’ that night. You felt it was uncalled for. Eventually, she did too, and spend the following week apologising. “Maybe I do need therapy.” You remember her telling you at dinner a few days later. “You think?” you asked her, only half-joking.
When Natasha started seeing Linda it was hard. Actually, that’s probably an understatement. You have no idea how your relationship survived. It was like the two of you were on a tiny wooden boat in the middle of the Atlantic during the biggest, scariest, angriest storm. Natasha was the passenger, next to you on your little boat, but she was also the storm. You soon learned that therapy is not a straight line up towards recovery, it gets worse before it gets better, and Natasha’s worse was pretty fucking bad. The therapy brought forth lots of trauma that Natasha has suppressed over the years, and after the sessions, when she would come home you were the one left to deal with the fallout.
It was worth it in the end. Eventually, the arguments, the screaming, the fighting, and the crying went away. You were stronger for it. You think having gone through that with her brought the two of you closer and maybe it helped her believe that you really do love her. That you aren’t planning on leaving because if you were you would have done it a long time ago.
“What are you thinking about?” her hands caress up and down your thighs as she looks up at you expectantly.
“Just you,” you answer honestly, “And how proud I am of you.” You take her hand and kiss her palm softly. “And how much I love you.”
She smiles bashfully, and you can see her cheeks turn a light shade of pink as she turns her head and tries to hide her face in the pillows. You lean down and kiss her cheek lightly. “How do you want to celebrate your week of smiley faces?” You ask her as you press your forehead against hers.
“Stay in bed all day?” She suggests as she wraps her hands around your waist and squeezes you tight. You groan at the strength at which she holds your body against hers. "Okay, okay Miss Super Soldier, I'm tapping out." you say as you dramatically hit the mattress. And try to wiggle out of her hold.
"I'm not a super soldier." She corrects once she finally loosens her grip. You push yourself up on your arms and look down at her.
"Then why are you as strong as one?" You raise an eyebrow at her, before lowering yourself down again and pressing a quick peck to her lips.
"I've been lifting more these last few weeks," she says as she sits up, and easily pulls you along with her as you still stay sat in her lap. You wrap your legs around her waist and squeeze her biceps.
"So strong," you hum in agreement "and so pretty," you add, as you kiss her cheek. Getting to touch her like this is something you cherish greatly. Natasha's still getting used to physical touch, especially one that isn't violent or unwelcome.
It took her a while to realise that she doesn't need to sleep with you in order to keep you. You remember how relieved she looked when you told her, and the pain in your chest when you realised she ever thought any different. You could tell something was wrong. Your relationship was progressing but all of a sudden she began to be distant and reserved. More than she usually was. It made you worried, you thought she was losing interest. It took everything in you not to cry when she confessed the real reason she was becoming distant. She knew you would eventually want more from the relationship, and she wasn't sure if she could give you that, not yet at least. All she ever knew was violence. The love you were giving her, the care, the tenderness, it was all new to her and she was having trouble accepting it.
"I love you." you whisper and try to copy the strength at which she held you earlier as you try to find a way to really make her feel the love you have for her.
"I love you too," she mumbles against your chest. "So can we just stay here all day?"
You pull away and see her pouting up at you, "Yes, yes." you say with a big grin. "And we can order pizza."
taglist - @sayah13 @kacka84 @sammi1642 @padmeswife  @druggedduck  
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macaroni-with-hotsause · 2 days ago
sam: *is dying*
tony: :0!!!!
steve: oh my gosh Y/N? you spent 3 months in the medical department with dr. cho! you must know cpr, right!?
nat: baby, why would you need to know it off by- you know what? i'm not gonna question that
steve: ok. you're up y/n *moves out the way*
y/n: *walks over to sam and clears their throat* TIGHT AS A VIRGIN BOY DON'T GET NERVOUS-
266 notes · View notes
gayerthanevertbh · 2 days ago
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟖.
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parings: best friend mom!natasha x reader
summary: you know it was beautifully wrong when your best friend’s mother kissed your parched mouth. What’s even worse is that she’s a married woman and you’re just her secret affair.
warnings: heavy angst. 18+!
author’s note: i hope you enjoy this part! i had writer’s block while writing this and i’m so sorry if like i didn’t explain this party very well. x
this series is 18+ minors dni! i will block you if you don’t have your age on your bio.
series masterlist || main masterlist || taglist for this series
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I’m a person who barely feels things. Such as sadness, anger, empathy, envy, and loads of other shit that you could possibly ever imagine – I. Could. Never. Feel. It.
But when Natasha steps forward into my world, everything seems so different but in such a good fucking way that it’s unexplainable.
Now I do know that she won’t hurt me. I am hurting her, I was hurting her. Although I might be lying when I said she won’t hurt me because she never left her wife when I was still an 18-year-old girl. She stayed – but never was happy. I never fully understood marriage and what it takes to fight for one. Maybe I was naive and in love back then so I felt eviscerated towards her. Maria was her age, I was young. I could’ve been taken advantage of but she wasn’t like that. She’s far from that.
So thank god that I never met her when I was a 17-year-old girl because that would have been a different story.
It was almost time for us to go back to Ohio after long weeks of making love and exploring Italy where we held hands and kissed under the sunset – which is cheesy if I may add but I love it. I compel it. I walked to a small, squared-tile window and shut it with thin lines of the white curtain. I turn and see Natasha putting on her blouse that had buttons down on it while wearing high-waisted denim jeans. She shuffles her hair with her hand and grabs the hairbrush that was on the bed.
“How many days do we have left, my love?” I asked with a melodic tone. I blush when I call her my love since I’ve never really called anyone like that. After all, she was my first in everything which is kind of sad but there are no regrets.
“A few malyshka,” she responded with a smile on her face that lifted all the way to her cheeks. She then grabbed a cigarette from the wooden drawer and lit it with one of her antic lighter that must’ve cost a lot.
“I thought you said you’ll stop smoking?”
She mumbles while placing it on the side of her mouth, “Just only once, detka.”
I only nodded once more and just hummed, not saying anything else. Too afraid that I might upset her. She’s more of a smoker than I am, I quit ages ago. Although that’s not something to degrade for, I just don’t want to be a hypocrite that’s all.
There was a moment of silence between us, I was leaning against the window while watching people who were passing by, a guy with a yellow bicycle just fell over and a white woman came to save him. There were muffled sounds of singing and an amazing tune of guitar far from here and wishing I could walk there right now just to be in that atmosphere. I can smell the thick aroma scent from her cigarette, suddenly my nose itches from it. I looked at her from my side view and asked,
“Will we ever tell Lucy?”
She leans against the wallpapered wall and puffs out the smoke coming from her mouth, sighing deeply.
“I–I don’t know sweet girl,” she says with such shame in her tone that I noticed it too quickly and felt the struggle that was in my view. “If we tell her, I might lose you.”
If I could tell her that I have two thoughts inside of my head if Lucy ever finds out, I would have. One, I'll probably just kill myself and never go through the hardship of losing everyone and number two: go through it. Accept it. And live with it. Sometimes the word homewrecker still wraps around my head and I would be on the bathroom floor sitting down with my legs pressed up against my breast until it was sunrise.
Sometimes I feel so guilty that if I was allowed to meet Natasha in another scenario I would’ve reached for it. But here I am now in my hardest situation whether or not should I tell her. There’s this little part inside of me that she’ll understand and won’t really care much, but that’s hardly going to happen.
“I just don’t want to hurt Lucy,” I whispered under my breath and walked towards her, taking the cigarette off her lips as I inhaled the bud through my mouth, giving it back to her.
“You don’t want to hurt her just because of your happiness? If she’s truly your friend, she’ll understand that.”
“Well, she’s your daughter so think about how she’ll react if she finds out about us.”
She puffs out another smoke, sighing but more audibly since I can hear her crystal clear.
“She’ll–I don’t know, probably dislike me and you for a while.”
It’s a matter of risk that I’m putting myself into. Either I lose Lucy or Natasha, of all people – it’s them that I have to choose over. Something is screaming inside of me: tell her, for your sanity and everyone’s as well. But you barely know the meaning of the term “peace” due to the fact that I’ve never experienced it. I’ve lived with the worst mother, I don’t even know who my biological father is nor have I ever met that man in my entire life. And, I don’t pity myself for it. I guess I go with the motto well, that’s life and I still do live by that. But Natasha is the only woman who understands me. Who can see me. And Lucy too but the more that I look at her, the more hatred I plaster all over myself.
“I know she will,” I whispered without trying to feel that lump in my throat and took the cigarette from her mouth and instead put it from my mouth.
“You have to stop smoking.”
“Occasionally, remember?” I smirked in response. She just chuckled but in such a low octave in her tone.
She took the cigarette away from my mouth and kissed my parched lips gently, holding my jaw in with the palm of her hand. I opened my mouth a little so that her tongue could go deeper. Natasha licks the roof of my mouth, moaning when I accidentally slip my tongue inside of hers and pulls away immediately.
“Let’s not worry about that for now, okay?”
I nodded but still have this fear that in some way, Lucy will find out. She’ll discover the nastiest things that are between me and Natasha and would break her friendship with me because of it. Sometimes I’d blame myself more than I blame Natasha because she didn’t even do anything. I decided to be with her, I decided to sleep with her for the very first time. I made those decisions and I’ve become the most awful person on the planet to have ever existed.
I fear for myself because the more I enticed myself with Natasha the feeling of being in danger is getting nearer and nearer until it swallows me up. I chose not to say anything to Natasha. Because it’s just a stupid feeling.
Everything has been stupid lately.
But not my relationship with her, never that. And maybe this is an emotional feeling, I felt it. Everywhere. Around my fucking body and soul that if I was given a chance to be hit by a car I’d take it so fast.
“I love you, okay? So so much.” she kisses my lips one last time before grabbing her purse and waiting for me outside. I could feel my heart getting heavier every minute I breathe and I just pray to god that I could have the courage to tell Lucy about this whole thing.
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After a few weeks in Italy, me and Natasha landed back in Ohio safely. Throughout my trip with her, part of me is that I forgot about possibly everything that has happened in this town and I only worry about my relationship with Natasha. I was very much in love with her – still am – and when we were in that hotel, I felt like I was in this entirely new world that I’d love to restart my life in. the room was reeking of sex, kisses, and our sweaty bodies that were pressed up against each other. We were engrossed with each other’s love, passion, and whatever else is there left. I was addicted to it as she was, it was alluring too.
The more I was with her the more that I got to know her and understand her. I’ve known her ever since I was 18, but not to the point that she shows her real self with me when we were both alone for a whole month. She was very clingy – in a good way – and quiet in such a comforting way. She would only talk if something was bothering her and that was rare because we never really got out of that hotel. We just isolated ourselves and explored each other’s bodies.
“Are you okay?” I turned to my left and nodded at her. She inhaled through her nose and held my cold hand; placing it on her lap.
“I know you aren’t. Don’t worry, she’ll be back home tomorrow. Okay?”
“I just worry that somehow she’ll find out,” I tell her while I can feel my lips trembling and I bite on my bottom lip harshly as I try to stop it from twitching. She shakes her head slowly and pads her thumb against my bruised lip, opening my mouth and kissing it. I let her in like I always do.
“She won’t,” she assures me, and pecks on my cheek, smiling with teeth. “Okay, baby? We have a day until we have to go back to our routine again.”
I let her kiss me again until we were making out, our lips smacking filters inside the car and I could feel myself getting lost in a translation. I pulled away when I saw the green light coming back on and Natasha quickly stepped on the pedal and drove back to our house. Which reminds me, I have to go see my mom.
When we arrived, I grabbed my luggage as I reached for the door and waited for Natasha to bring out hers. She pulled down the trunk to close it and shoved her hands inside her pocket to grab the house keys. Smiling at me, she unlocks the door with just one tilt and I made my way inside, giggling when Natasha slapped my ass playfully.
Then not even 5 seconds later, I dropped my phone on the floor as I can feel my face start to pale from the sight I’m seeing.
Sticky notes were all over one side of a wall that was in front of the lounge room and there were words in it but I could barely read them. On the other side, it was Lucy who was standing there as if she had been waiting for this moment to arrive – which it did. I could feel my heart stop for a while and my hearing got blocked, meaning I couldn’t hear anything. Just the ringing sound inside my head repeated over and over again.
Forever, they say.
Natasha walked closer to the intense moment and noticed the notes on the wall as well, she looked at me with a darker shade of eyes and then looked to her side, seeing her daughter in such full red that she looked like a full tomato. It was like I could see the steam coming out of her ears comically and I can’t help myself but feel like I’m about to get a full panic attack. Even though I shouldn’t, my best friend should be feeling that way.
Now, I can feel the word emotions. I felt ashamed, nasty, and horrid. Those words repeated inside my head repeatedly and I gladly took them in. I let those sink into me until I go numb; I wish I could not feel things – Those things are called love and shame.
For a while, we all stood there in silence. Mostly, I could only hear the hard breathing from Lucy but other than that, the silence was formed within the room. Then, I watch her grab one yellow note on the wall and read out loud:
I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N. Please, come visit us soon.
I cringe, I cringe more than Natasha did and I could feel the tears in the brim of my eyelids as I watched her grab two more of the notes that were stuck into the wall; now she was yelling, full-on yelling and I could feel myself flinching from her voice.
“I want to eat your cunt so bad that I had to eat out my wife you’re not here, sadly,” Lucy looks up at us with a glare but mostly at Natasha. She took a step forward and stretched her arms to reach the other note. Now, she was laughing in such a sarcastic way because – who would be laughing at this moment?
“Wait–shit, this is my favorite one,” she says with a slight chuckle and throws the other notes on the floor as I eyed them carefully because I couldn’t stare at Lucy anymore. Because there is too much guilt. “And this is from my best friend’s message, by the way. I hope you can come to see me right now, fully naked. I’m so wet for you. Come fuck me–”
“That’s enough, Lucy! You’re humiliating Y/N.” Natasha says with a higher tone and walked towards Lucy, grabbing the note from her hand but failing to do so when her daughter pushes her shoulder roughly, evident tears from her eyes. Lucy scoffs as she hears Natasha that comes out of her mouth.
“Do not fucking touch me, you pervert! Did you honestly think you were that sneaky?”
She cuts me off with her hand in the air, asking me silently to shut up. Lucy shakes her head violently and shouts: “I looked up to you, Natasha. You were my inspiration in everything I do, I look up to you more than momma and this is what you do? You fuck my best friend?”
“First of all, how did you get into my messages with Y/N?” Natasha asked. Lucy laughed hysterically but in such a heartbreaking way that I felt like I couldn’t even look her in the eyes.
“I went through your fucking laptop, you dumb fuck!” she angrily responded to her mother and shoved her again, eyeing her then eyeing me. Lucy took two steps towards me and slapped my face, hard.
“Lucy, stop!”
“I actually do not want to hear from you,” she talks back at Natasha, who clearly looked like she was about to vomit from the situation at hand. I felt my warm puffed red cheek on my hand and sobbed, feeling my emotions running down through my fiery veins.
“How does that feel, hm? Did you like that when she would do that to you during sex?”
I shake my head, whispering: “Natasha would never hit me.”
“This was the girl you’re talking about on Tinder? My own fucking mom?” she whispered back as I could feel her breath against my face, her nose twitching from so much anger that I could feel myself shaking. I deserved it so much, I deserved that slap.
“You betrayed me, Y/N. And you know what’s sad?”
I shake my head, although I already have an idea of what she is about to say to me. Lucy chuckles lowly and pulls the necklace from her neck hard, shoving it to my chest as she clenches my shirt tightly. That necklace was a gift from me when we graduated back in high school. I gulped as I could feel a block in my throat.
“You were my only friend. My only sister. My person,” she whispers with so much anger yet with so many tears that I just want to kiss her cheeks because of it. “You threw away our friendship, for her? When–I don’t know, you could’ve met anyone else! But my mom? God Y/N, she was married! She was using you only because Natasha didn’t get that from her wife. Did you know they haven’t had sex for over a year at that time?”
Natasha’s throat became tighter as Lucy’s words falter in the atmosphere between us. She looked at me with red eyes along with tears that were streaming down her face uncontrollably.
Who thought forever lasted this long?
“And the audacity you say that I’m humiliating Y/N is just an ass move,” Lucy turns to face her mom and shakes her head at her as if she’s ashamed of her mother; which Natasha gladly took it because she feels like she deserves every dreadful word that was coming out from her daughter’s mouth.
“Both of you humiliated yourselves,” Lucy whispers now, but evident anger was still in her tone. Could this be the moment where I would kneel and ask for forgiveness? I thought about it but felt stupid once I realized that I shouldn’t do it at the moment. Lonely long life, Sinking Spirit Subsists, Where, respite lies.
Natasha speaks but in such a whispery voice that I could barely hear her, “Lucy, I’m sorry. We–I should’ve told you sooner, I didn’t want to hurt you this way–”
“You’re the most hated person right now when it comes to me, Natasha,” How she says her full name makes my skin tighten. I closed my eyes, letting out my sobs with no care in the world. “I don’t want to look at you. I don’t even know if I’ll recover. Would you still fuck her if she was ever 17?”
“Of course not!” Natasha was telling the truth, she would never go that far. She’s not that kind of person who would leer on younger people except when they’re the right age. “Lucy, I would not flirt with her if she was ever 17.”
“I barely believe your words mother but I’ll take that,” she says with sarcasm and grabs a suitcase that was mine, throwing it at the door with a warning whisper that I will never forget.
“Get out of my house before I could possibly kill you with my bare fucking hands.”
Lucy was heartbroken by the situation, she was even more hurt when her mother pursued her best friend without her knowing. I couldn’t do anything but follow her simple rather hard order as I walked towards the door, hearing Natasha chanting no, no, no, and gripping onto my wrist, my back pressing against her front. I could feel her head tucking in my neck and her tears were on my skin; they were cold.
“Please don’t go.”
“Natasha,” I whisper, trying not to cry as I pull her hands away from my waist as possible. But, her grip was so strong that she held on tighter than a while ago. I let out a shaky sob and closed my eyes, not being able to stand properly as she held onto me.
“Don’t say my name like that,” she whispers into my neck while kissing it twice. “Please, don’t say it like that. Please, don’t leave me. Don’t leave me again, please?”
Lucy watches from afar and I can tell she was very furious about the scene that Natasha is causing. Sometimes, this woman can be very stubborn. She turns me around and cups my cheeks with her spiky cold hands, pressing her forehead into mine.
“I love you, darling, I love you so much. You’re my everything, please don’t go. Let’s go together, please–”
“Fix your relationship with your daughter first,” I tell her, smiling but not genuine. I cup her left cheek and squeezed it gently; it’s for me to memorize how she would feel because I don’t know when will I see her again. Maybe next month, next year, or never. My only guess is that probably after the harsh storm calms down – if ever Lucy will accept the relationship we both have that is so special. But in her eyes, it’s atrocious – which I don’t blame her.
She finally accepts defeat and smiles back at me, but her lips trembling. Natasha whispers in demand but in a soft way, “Tell me you love me, please?”
I laughed lightly and kissed her lips, not caring if Lucy was behind her. Not caring if the whole world is watching us, right now I just want to kiss the person who made me feel this euphoric feeling that I never truly grasped.
“I love you.”
She sobs, “Again.”
“I love you,” I kissed her lips once more, taking her bottom lip softly and pulling away. “I love you, I love you.”
Natasha nods, nudging her nose against mine, and pulls me into a tight hug – kissing my temple twice before her last words come that something broke inside of me because of it.
“I love you more, I promise.”
She loves you more. I completely deny that, I think I love her more. I think I'd fight for her more, I think I’d give up everything just to be held and run away with this woman who I shouldn’t fall in love with under the circumstances that we have. The risks of being caught were worth it to me, everything was worth it somehow. And she knows that. It’s like she could read my mind and agree with me in the back of her head. I held her nape as I hugged her tighter to inhale that lavender scent. I’ll never wash my clothes ever again because of her smell.
I walked out of the house and sat at the bus station where I cried myself freely, cupping my mouth to muffle out my scream of terror. In a snap like that, everything is gone. My guts were right, it was always right. I could feel my body shaking again as I cried harder – not caring if anyone watched me with a weird look. Is this what heartbreak feels like? Is this kind of love how it should be? It hurts, everywhere. From my limbs to my lungs – it hurts. I wiped my tears away with my cold hands as I waited for the bus to arrive. I wouldn’t go back to my mom, not a chance. And then I suddenly realized, I have nowhere else to go. I had only a thousand dollars and it was not even enough to feed myself. I thought about dying in the streets but I cringed at a scenario where people had to smell and see my deceased body. Maybe going back to my mom's is the last option I have.
I love you more, I promise.
Emotions cannot behold yet meant to be felt for me. I feel it everywhere to the point I’m about to have a headache. I sometimes hoped that I was an animal instead of a human, maybe their life would be so much easier.
But here I am, still human and still the worst one.
I love you more, I promise.
I felt my phone vibrating inside of my right pocket and rushed to pull it out. I felt a little at ease when I read Natasha’s message popped up on my screen.
Know that every day I’ll be thinking about you, my cub. I wish I could see you right now but I can’t hurt my daughter more. I love you, always, and more. Think about me too, okay?
Always, Natasha. More than you can ask.
taglist:  @sayah13 @santasbitch @bepisbeansprouts @sabstance-blog @cl-e @s1ut4nat @lostremind @comfy-mee @how-to-disappearr @when-wolves-howl @sapphosclosefriend @korekiyoss​ @aru-son​  @alwaysgoodnight​ @elle-romanoff​ @bitchmckenna​ @strangegardentaco​ @aru-son​ @officialbriiiisworld​ @get-the-fuck-outta-here​ @mmmmokdok​ @thatonebrazilian​ @inluvwithfictionalwomen​ (can’t seem to tag the others, so so sorry x)
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didujustcallmedumb · 20 hours ago
Fragile (2/2) || Trust in Me AU || Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
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Main Masterlist | Natasha Romanoff Masterlist | Trust In Me AU Masterlist
Summary: After getting better from your original sickness, there was still something that you had yet to be gifted with...but Natasha was sick of waiting.
Word Count: 4.5k+
Warnings: R's title of 'daddy', Natasha's title of 'little dove', subspace mention
SMUT MDNI 18+ (D/S dynamics, Daddy kink, Choking, Slapping, Degradation, Praise Kink, Strap-on use (Nat Receiving), Strap-on Oral (R Receiving), Oral (Nat Receiving), Spitting, Dacryphilia, Overstimulation, Spanking, Bottom!Nat)
Part 1
After a few days, you had started to feel better and had much more energy than when you had originally gotten sick. Much to Natasha’s disagreement, you had gone back to work at the firm to take care of various meetings and deals. However, that was easily ignored because of how she was always made up once you came home and doted on her, giving her whatever she wanted.
A wet sensation on your face made you grimace and you groaned as you shifted on the sofa. Eventually, you came around blinking quickly to adjust to your surroundings and recognised a hefty weight on your chest. Once you glanced down, you were met with a faceful of wet puppy nose.
“Ugh, your breath stinks.”
Barney whined as you pushed his nose out of your face and he tried nudging you again, but you placed your hands on both his cheeks to keep him at bay. You groaned as he kept trying, stomping on your chest in the process, before you ended up shouting at Natasha to help you.
“Natty! Get your manky mutt out of my face!”
The sound of heels clicking across the laminate gave you a feeling of relief, knowing that Natasha was finally going to get her dog out of your face. With one last gentle shove, you were able to get Barney’s face out of yours, but he refused to move from your chest.
“Your dog has serious attachment issues,” you grumbled. Natasha scoffed slightly as she lifted Barney from your chest to cradle him in her arms like a baby, and you left out a sigh of relief now you could breathe properly. “He needs a bath as well, stinky mongrel.”
Natasha rolled her eyes at your dramatics and turned her attention to Barney, peppering his nose and head in gentle kisses as you stayed facing the ceiling, your forearm laid comfortably across your eyes. “He was trying to make you feel better, stop being such a grump, he loves his daddy as much as I do.”
“Very funny,” you mumbled in amusement. Natasha scoffed once more and kept her attention on Barney as she began to speak to him like a baby. “You were just trying to make grumpy feel better, weren’t you baby? Yes, you were, yes you were! Such a good boy, now go and play.” Natasha placed him down on the ground and smiled as he scurried off, but then pouted when your attention still wasn’t on her.
“Yes, my lo-”
Once you had turned your head to look at Natasha, it was as though all the oxygen had been sucked out of you, and you were pretty sure you had started to drool. The younger woman was dressed in a skintight, pink candy-striped nurse's outfit which was short enough that you could see the curve of her ass as she gave you a twirl. To top it off, the outfit was complimented by white thigh-high stockings and dangerously high pink heels. 
 “Fuck me.”
“Is that an invitation, daddy?”
“Little dove, you look positively delicious, come here.”
Natasha stepped giddily towards you when you patted your lap. She was quick to straddle you and trapped you beneath her with her toned thighs, which you immediately ran your hands over, teasing to go under her skirt. The low cut of the outfit had her perked breasts sitting comfortably even if they were threatening to spill from the outfit. 
You tilted your head as you looked up at Natasha and bit down hard on your bottom lip, to help hide the smirk that had spread across your lips. Natasha took a shaky breath as she felt the hard package beneath her, which was comfortably tucked away in the comfort of your sweats, and you gave a sinister smile.
“You think you were the only one that had something planned? You should know I’m always one step ahead of you sweetheart, I always will be.” The lust that laced through your voice had Natasha squirming on top of you, and you let out a quiet groan as the piece of the strap nestled inside you brushed your walls. Nimble fingers made quick work of the tie of your sweats before they were desperately pulled down your legs. “So eager. I love it when you’re so desperate for me.”
“Please,” Natasha whimpered against your neck, gently sucking and nibbling across the column of your throat, knowing how much it riled you up. “I don’t think I can wait much longer, I need you to touch me so badly.” The end of her sentence was followed by a breathy moan as calloused hands roughly pulled down the top of her outfit and began to harshly grope her chest. 
“Is this what you wanted, Little dove? You want daddy to use you however I want? Make you take whatever I give you?” Another whorish moan erupted from the back of Natasha’s throat as she rolled her hips more aggressively, the strap teasing itself through her slickened folds. Without prompt, Natasha moved one of your hands from her chest and towards her throat as she nodded in agreement.
“Use me, please. I won’t ask for anything else.”
“I promise, daddy. Now fuck me.”
Ecstasy. Natasha was your personal strain of ecstasy and you were fully addicted. Your life revolved around the younger woman, and you could assume that you’d never get through a day without having at least one taste of her. 
“Whatever my perfect girl wants,” you agreed as you thrust your hips up, your strap easing into her quickly, and Natasha whined at the familiar stretch. Your starting pace was deep and brutal, Natasha’s breasts bouncing perfectly in time with each buck of your hips. It didn’t take long for you to pull the rest of Natasha’s outfit away, leaving her bare on top of you, free for you to admire. “You always take me so well, sweetheart. Your pretty pussy sucking me in, such a good girl.”
Natasha clawed at your stomach, covering it in aggressive red marks as she rolled her hips in time to match your unforgiving thrusts, and whimpered as the hand around her throat gradually tightened. Her jaw was slack, her hair draped loosely across her shoulders, and her eyes were clenched shut as you relentlessly pounded into her. The strap nestled inside you stroked your walls, hitting you in all the right places, making your legs tremble, but you refused to give in to the pleasure. 
“‘M so full…feels so good. Harder, please,” Natasha slurred as her movements started to become sloppy. A small slap to the face, and a tug of her hair, was all it took to get her movements and focus back on track, her bottom lip now held captive between her teeth. Once both of your rhythms were back in sync you made sure to give Natasha what she wanted, but that wasn’t before flipping the two of you over so she was laid on her back underneath you.
It was easier for you to discard your shirt, tossing it aside to the pile of clothes, and Natasha’s hands were quick to find your breasts. She squeezed your chest harshly, both of you moaning from the copious amount of arousal you were both receiving from each other’s actions. You grunted as you angled yourself differently, finding yourself able to push the strap deeper into both you and Natasha, and smiled as a broken moan made its way from Natasha’s mouth.
“That’s my girl, so desperate for my cock, aren’t you? Just a needy little whore,” you chastised confidently. The white of your knuckles beside Natasha’s head was the telling point that you were close, alongside the clench of your jaw. Natasha nodded in agreement as she pulled you down to kiss you fervently, her legs wrapping tightly around your waist to bring you closer. 
“Fuck, right there, don’t stop,” Natasha mumbled against your lips between desperate kisses. The kisses were open-mouthed, sloppy and uncoordinated, not to mention they were essentially just a clash of teeth and tongues. Both of you were desperate to get the other to finish first, but the desire for you to taste each other overruled.
“Not planning on it, sweetheart,” you replied quickly before you clashed your lips together once more. A hard spank to Natasha’s ass, followed by a few more, had her sucking your tongue into her mouth which drove you to thrust harder as you both neared your high. “Are you going to cum with me, pretty girl? Keep being good for me?”
“Yes yes yes! I swear, please let me cum- fuck!”
You moaned into Natasha’s neck as you felt her body tense underneath you, her thighs beginning to shake as she gripped onto you tighter. Removing one of your hands from above her, you snaked it down between your bodies and pressed your thumb against her clit before moving in circles. “You wanna cum? Cum for me baby.”
Natasha sobbed into the crook of your neck, her legs shaking violently around you as she finally fell over her peak, you following shortly after. You hummed in appreciation into Natasha’s neck as you slowed down your hips, beginning to mouth at her neck and collarbone to mark her.
“Ouch!” Natasha hissed as you bit down particularly hard on the column of her throat. You hummed against her throat and kissed down her body, still sucking marks into her milky skin, and moaned loudly as your mouth attached to her core. You slowly lapped at her entrance and clit teasing her relentlessly, moaning between each taste as you gripped her thighs tighter. “Mmph! Daddy, I can’t.”
“Come on princess, I know you can give me another one, but first I want you to do something for me,” you bargained, kissing along her thighs, and chuckled as she tried to wriggle away. The whines that came from beneath you sent a shiver down your spine, you loved how vocal Natasha always was. “You seem to have been a messy girl, and I want you to clean me up before I give you your special kisses.”
“C-Clean you up?”
The softness of Natasha’s thighs was enticing, and you couldn’t help but sink your teeth into the flesh of her inner thigh. Natasha’s back arched off of the sofa, her skin prickled with goosebumps, and you ran your tongue across the deep mark you just created to soothe it. You moved to lean back on your calves, predatorily staring down at her, and the strap was now back in Natasha’s sight.
“You’ve made such a mess of my cock, princess. I think you should come and clean me up, so I can give you what you want. That seems fair, doesn’t it?” 
A wave of arousal flowed through Natasha, straight to her already throbbing core, and she pressed her thighs together whilst she moved to kneel before you. The way you towered over her always made her feel so powerless, so submissive, and it was her favourite thing. Nodding quickly, Natasha reached for the wipes on the table; you were quick to correct her when you gripped her jaw and forced her to face you.
“Nuh-uh. I want to see what that pretty little mouth of yours does, considering you’re always running it. Now, get to work sweetheart, the quicker you make me cum the quicker you’ll get your reward.”
Natasha blinked quickly, processing your request, this must have been the first time you’d ever requested anything that could be deemed more for your pleasure than her own. It wasn’t hard for Natasha to come to terms with the fact you seemed to be a ‘touch me not top’, not that Natasha’s pillow princess side was complaining. Eagerly, Natasha moved to kneel on the hardwood floor beside the couch, as you sat more comfortably and lounged back into the comfort of the cushions.
“I wonder how bruised I can make your knees with how long I keep you down there,” you teased menacingly, a sadistic smile on your face. As a reflex to your filthy words, Natasha’s freshly manicured nails dug into your thighs, tight enough that crimson liquid was brought to the surface, and a pleasurable hiss left your mouth. “Fuck.” 
“Can I? Please?” Natasha questioned shyly, practically drooling at the sight in front of her. You watched as Natasha shuffled impatiently in her spot, her tongue darting out slowly to wet her lips as she drank you in. “I wanna touch you, daddy. Please let me.”
Before you could even finish nodding and giving permission, Natasha licked a long stripe up the toy and moaned at the taste of her own slick around it. Marvelling in her actions, you threaded your fingers through her thick locks, to keep her hair out of the way, as she took the whole length in her mouth until the tip of her nose brushed your pubic bone. “That’s it dove, you can do it. Such a good girl for me.”
A muffled agreement is heard as she keeps bobbing up and down to the attached appendage, slivers of spit spilling from the corners of her mouth. You bit your lip hard, groaning at the sensation you could feel through Natasha’s movements, and your hips bucked involuntarily. Natasha gagged with a whine, but that was quickly followed by a moan, and her eyes began to water. “So pretty when you cry…now, let me use that mouth of yours sweetheart. Sit up straight.”
You pulled Natasha off the strap by a fistful of hair, smiling cynically when you heard her gasp for breath and splutter, and gently stroked the side of her face. “Colour?” “Green, daddy.” You nodded, running your fingers through her hair to grab a fistful, and you hummed as Natasha automatically opened her mouth without any prompting, and stuck her tongue out. Leaning down, you let saliva gather in your mouth before letting it drop onto Natasha’s tongue.
“Don’t you swallow until I tell you to, you hear me?” You stared Natasha down, as she rubbed her thighs together to gain some sort of friction, and tilted her chin up towards the ceiling. You watched closely as the drop of spit travelled down her tongue. “Swallow, now.”
Without hesitation Natasha swallowed, making you smile, and then you leant down to capture her lips in a dominating and bruising kiss. The younger woman’s hands twitched with vigour, knowing better than to grab onto you, as she awaited your next move. Once you had suddenly pulled away, you wasted no time in pushing Natasha’s head down onto your cock, ultimately making her gag, and began fucking into her mouth. 
With every thrust you groaned with pleasure, creating a comfortable rhythm for yourself to receive the most pleasure, and for Natasha to not get really hurt as you used her however you wished. The stimulation of the strap, as well as Natasha’s nails scratching at your thighs quickly, had you close to the edge. “That’s my good fucking girl, so well behaved. I’m gonna cum, dove.”
The Russian looked up at you through her eyelashes, her mascara smudged from her tears, and you could see how fucked out her mouth seemed but you weren’t finished. Not yet, she was far too beautiful on her knees for you.
“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth. I should have you on your knees more often,” you panted, Natasha’s doe eyes looking up at your own. You knew how much Natasha loved the praise, loved the validation, it was what had her so attached to you. Her whole life was you.
A few more thrusts were all it took for you to hit your peak, a string of ‘fucks’ mixed with praises of ‘good fucking girl’  for Natasha tumbled clumsily out of your mouth. Natasha pushed her head down the whole length of the strap and then pulled off with a ‘pop’, doing her best to catch her breath as she pressed open-mouthed kisses to your thighs and lower abdomen. The twitch in your legs had Natasha giggling to herself whilst you slowly lowered yourself to her height so you were knelt in front of her. 
“Holy fucking shit.”
Natasha giggled once more and leaned forward to pepper kisses on your face until you pulled her in for a proper kiss, your tongue gliding possessively across her bottom lip asking for entrance. She melted into your embrace pulling the strap away from your hips, causing you to whine slightly from being sensitive and tossed it to the side to clamber onto your lap. The way Natasha felt in your arms was something you would never get tired of feeling, your bare bodies pressed against each other.
“That good, huh?” Natasha teased when she pulled away, gently pressing a kiss to your nose. You rolled your eyes at her smugness but nodded in agreement, pulling her closer to your body to press kisses against her neck, and then chuckled as she started to shift in your lap. “Someone is eager to get some special kisses. Aren’t you, my love?”
“It’s been so long since I’ve had your mouth on me, I just…I need it so badly,” Natasha whimpered, bucking her hips towards you. It was easy for you to lift yourself off the ground, even with Natasha still comfortably sitting in your arms, and you made your way up the stairs to toss Natasha haphazardly onto the bed. “Watch it! I’m fragile.”
“Fragile?” You repeated a sarcastic smile on your face, “With the ways you want, and ask, to be fucked I wouldn’t exactly believe that you’re fragile. Now my little dove…I want you to lay back and put your pillow under your hips, you know the one.” Without hesitation, Natasha did as she was told, and you settled on your stomach and admired her glistening cunt with a proud smile. “This wet just from sucking on my cock? You’re such a messy baby.”
“Yes! I-I’m messy, and needy, and just- please.”
“When have I ever told you no, little dove? I’m sure as hell not going to start now,” you muttered lustfully. You made quick work of fully prying open Natasha’s legs and dived in like a woman starved. Your heavy, calloused, hands pushed Natasha’s hips down into the mattress when her back arched, and when her hips bucked upwards, to ensure that you had prime access to her puffy pink cunt. 
Sucking the sensitive nub into your mouth Natasha writhed beneath you, chanting your name like a mantra, and pulled at your hair causing you to groan into the tight muscle. The vibrations sent another wave of arousal through Natasha whilst she did her best to roll her hips against your face. The wet lapping noises echoed through the bedroom, highlighting the younger woman’s arousal, and you moaned as you pushed your tongue deeper into her folds.
“Can I cum? Please let me cum, daddy!”
You nodded against her and gave her pussy a sharp slap as she started to release, the taste of her dancing on your tongue, your moans harmonised through the room. Her trembling legs had you pulling her closer as you nuzzled your face further into her, and she loudly cried your name. The bottom of your face was covered in her arousal, before you slowly pulled away and kissed up her body leaving hickeys in your wake, not bothering to wipe your mouth.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” you mumbled as you nuzzled your head into the crook of her neck, peppering soft kisses on her skin. The exhaustion washed over Natasha as soon as she came down from her high and she grumbled tiredly but nodded nonetheless. “Do you want a bath? Or just some cuddles?” “A bath if that’s okay? I feel sticky.” You nodded and slid off the bed, wrapping Natasha up in some blankets to keep her warm as you fixed up a bath for the two of you. 
Once you were happy with the bubbles and temperature, you left the bathroom to find a sleeping Natasha who was still curled up in the soft blanket. It was times like this when you always felt so grateful for what you now have, you had never felt as happy for someone to come into your life and turn it upside down until Natasha did. She was yours, and you were forever hers. Knelt down beside the bed, you gently started to stroke her cheek with your index finger and mumbled softly into her hairline.
“Sweetheart, I need you to wake up. We’ve still got to get a bath and it’ll end up getting cold.”
The muffled reply you received wasn’t really what you wanted, and was very hard to decipher as Natasha shoved her head further into your monstrous amount of plush pillows. Wandering hands found their way to her ass and you began to knead gently; one of Natasha’s favourite things was butt rubs especially if it led to a massage. What could you say? You were good with your hands. Natasha stirred to lay in your direction, peeking her head out of the bundles of blankets, and pouted lazily doing grabby hands at you.
“Carry me.”
“Yes, your highness. So demanding,” you mumbled teasingly, bringing the sleepy Natasha up into your arms. Immediately, the redhead found comfort in the crook of your neck, holding onto you as you placed her down in the warm bath; once the water enveloped her, a soft moan was released from the soreness in her muscles already easing and you climbed in behind her. The strokes you made against her skin as you washed her down were gentle, feather-like, and Natasha melted into your embrace. “Are you okay, little dove?”
“Mhm, jus’ sleepy,” Natasha whispered back, glancing up at your face with a soft smile. Her emerald eyes shone even more so than normal in the gentle candle-light, the steam from the hot water made her hair start to curl and you refused to take your eyes from her. You had seen a fair amount of women, but none of them could ever compare to Natasha. “Are you okay, daddy?”
The name brought you back to reality, recognising Natasha was very much in her subspace and you pressed gentle kisses to her cheek as you wrapped your arms tighter around her frame and pulled her into you. You smiled as she turned to face you, clinging onto you like a koala, and nuzzled her face deeper into the crook of your neck. “I’m more than okay, just thinking.”
“Think ‘bout what?”
You suppressed a chuckle at the slur and shortness of Natasha’s words, pressed another kiss to her head, and slowly stood up still carrying the redhead and wrapped her in her pink fluffy towel. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, you just stay relaxed sweetheart and we can get you to sleep.” Natasha nodded and allowed you to get her dry and ready for bed, and you smiled gently brushing through her hair so that you could braid it, gently pressing a kiss to any spot that gets tugged because of a tangle. With some difficulty, due to Natahsa’s head drooping from being tired, you finally finished braiding her hair and climbed into bed to cuddle.
You looked down at Natasha who was laid on your chest, already staring up at you with innocent eyes, a small pout etched onto her face. “Yes, little dove. What’s the matter?” You spoke gently, your calloused hand moving to gently cup her cheek, and your brows furrowed with concern. “You know you can talk to me, even if it is me you’re upset with.”
“You know how I said I wouldn’t ask for anything else?”
“Mhm, what is it dove?”
“Can we get mcdonalds tomorrow?” Natasha whined in a sleepy voice, pouting up at you, and pulled the best puppy eyes known to man. It wasn’t a common occurrence for Natasha to want fast food, but how could you say no when she looked up at you like that? With a small chuckle you nodded, agreeing to the redhead wishes before you tried shushing her to sleep.
“Just one more thing…” Natasha trailed off, looking at you with a cute smile, her lip tucked in between her teeth as she curled into your, tracing patterns against your bare chest. “Can Barney come up here for bed? Just for tonight, pleaseeeee.”
“Absolutely not,” you scoffed, a look of distaste on your features as you continued, “You know the rules, little dove. He’s not allowed into the bedroom or on the bed, we’ve talked about this before, Natty.”
Natasha’s eyes welled with tears at the rejection of her request, this being one of the only times you’ve ever said no to her, and your heart clenched in your chest at the sight of her non-pleasure related tears. It tore your heart more to have Natasha upset, than to have a dog in your bed, and you made the quick decision to hush her tears. “Fine, fine, fine. Please stop crying sweetheart. He can come up, okay? But it’s just for tonight, yeah?” you bargained, wiping her tears and kissing her nose.
Natasha nodded sleepily in agreement, pecking your lips multiple times in gratitude, and then smiled to herself. She knew you better than you knew yourself, even though you said one night, she was adamant that she’d be able to bargain for more. You made your way out of bed and downstairs to find Barney and came back upstairs with him wriggling in your arms, playfully nipping at your hands.
“Stay still, you little fuck.”
After you placed the pup on the bed, you laid beside Natasha once more to get your share of cuddles. Natasha smiled as she held onto you, letting Barney wiggle himself between the two of you and you huffed slightly. Turning your attention to the dog, who was trying to eat your hair, you gave him a warning. “I’m telling you now, it’s only going to be tonight you’re in here. You hear that you little punk? One night.”
Barney barked and you took that as the answer you were looking for. Once settled, you threw your arm over the duo, leaning down to Natasha to press your lips firmly to her own, and rested your foreheads together once you pulled away. “I love you so much, my gorgeous little dove.”
“I love you too daddy,” Natasha whispered, pressing one last kiss to your lips, tangling your legs together. You smiled, closing your eyes, bracing yourself for sleep to overcome you. Natasha giggled quietly to herself as Barney licked your cheek. “Barney says he loves his daddy too.” Natasha smiled more, listening to the sound of your heartbeat, and her gentle fingers traced soft patterns across your skin, easily sending you into a sleepy state. “I guess I love the little mutt too.” 
“Goodnight, daddy.”
“Goodnight, my little love.”
232 notes · View notes
losethetimewqr · 2 days ago
icarus falls
Summary: Falling for someone whose heart still belongs to another has its consequences
Word count: 4.9K
A/N: Sorry for the lack of fics I am: out of motivation <3 and maybe I found other stuff to obsess over sidenote: the bold texts are from Nat.
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It’s summer and the sun shows its mercy as it hid behind white clouds when Natasha first sees you. 
Natasha stands in the hallways, shoes skidding off the surface impatiently every minute as she waits for her sister to finish her class. It was nearly time for lunch- she watches as students clamor towards the cafeteria when a peal of laughter catches her attention.
You stand across the hallway with people who she assumes are your friends, fingers coming up your face to wipe the tears that had begun to spill as you laughed.
No wonder the sun is hiding, Natasha thought. The brightness in your eyes puts it to shame.
She must’ve been staring at you keenly because you sense it, your bright eyes meeting hers from across the hallway. You shoot her a gentle smile, and Natasha’s too embarrassed at the fact that she got caught to respond with anything other than an awkward wave of her hand.
An arm snakes around her shoulder suddenly, making her break the contact. She knows it’s her sister before she even speaks.
“Hey!” Yelena greets enthusiastically. “Did you wait long?”
“Yes. I seriously should’ve just gone first and left you, I’m starving,” she groans, taking her arm off of hers and she merely laughs. 
“Who was that you were looking at?” Yelena asks as the two of them begin to walk toward the cafeteria. 
Natasha shrugs. “Just a stranger.”
Yelena hums, satisfied with the answer then rants to her about her last class. When she takes a quick look over again, she notices you’re gone.
Natasha quickly shakes off the feeling of disappointment that settles. The campus is huge; she’d probably never see you again anyway. Still, the image of your smile stays and makes a home in her mind.
Natasha doesn’t know how she’s gotten stuck in such an awkward position; she merely wanted to spend her free time reading her notes, wanting to stay ahead of a particularly difficult professor’s class, but she hadn’t been able to focus in the past ten minutes. She sighs internally as she turns the page, even though she hadn’t absorbed any of the words. Wouldn’t be able to, even if she tried.  
The couple at the table in front of hers have been arguing for a while now, making Natasha the involuntary audience. Natasha has never missed her earphones as much as she does at that moment.
Couldn’t they have chosen a different place to argue in?
“-you’re just too much sometimes,” she overhears the brunette says harshly.  “I’m done.”
The brunette briskly stands up from her seat, effectively ending the conversation, and the chair makes a screeching sound as it pushes against the floor as she does so. Sounds of sniffing soon could be heard from the woman left behind, and though Natasha feels bad, she couldn’t stop the relief when she hears the door chime as the woman exits the cafe. 
Natasha notices the wallet left on the table too late, the owner was already far gone. She brings it home instead, intending to return it to the woman.
Looking for a way to contact the owner, she scans the contents of the wallet. She finds it inserted in between photos, and they spill out from the pockets as Natasha tries to look at the ID closely. When she gets down to pick up the photos, her eyes widen as she recognizes the person who has her arm around a brunette with green eyes.
It’s you, the woman she saw that day.
Is this Y/N Y/L/N? 
I’m Natasha, I found your wallet at Joe’s earlier.
Her phone vibrates soon after. 
Oh my god, I’ve been looking for it everywhere!
Can we meet up at the cafe tomorrow if you’re free? I really need it.
Sure. See you tomorrow.
Thank you.
Natasha bites her inner cheek in thought and decides against replying. Instead, she puts her phone on the nightstand and goes to sleep.
That night, her dreams are haunted by a pair of sad eyes. 
You were already waiting inside the cafe when Natasha arrives, sitting at a table in the corner alone. Your whole face is lined with exhaustion; your hair is slightly disarrayed, your eyes rimmed with red. It was obvious you had been just crying and made no effort to pretend otherwise. 
Natasha doesn’t know what she expected; you’ve been dumped by your girlfriend just yesterday, after all. Still, your slouched figure contrasts with the image on her mind so much that she could barely recognize you.
She approaches you slowly, letting the sound of her footsteps announce her arrival.
“Oh, it’s you,” your eyes widen in recognition as you look up. “You were sitting behind us yesterday.”
“Yep, that was me,” she says, handing you your wallet. An apparent relief floods your features at the sight of it. 
“Seriously, I can’t thank you enough for returning this to me. And sorry you had to witness that. That was probably awkward to witness.”
Awkward is an understatement, her mind says.
“It’s nothing,” she says instead, shrugging. “I’m sure it’s harder for you, anyway.”
You let out a wet chuckle at that, though there’s no real joy behind it. “Touche.”
Outside, the rain starts to pour on the pavement, and she watches as droplets formed on the cafe windows.
She utters a curse under her breath. 
“Did you bring an umbrella with you?” 
Natasha shakes her head. The clouds didn’t look heavy when she left the dorm, so she didn’t even consider bringing one.
“Then I guess you’re stuck with me for the time being. Do you want to eat something while we wait for the rain to stop? My treat, since you brought me my wallet back.”
And on any other day, Natasha would’ve turned down the offer with a polite smile and braved the pouring rain, but behind the puffy eyes is a hopeful look that’s reminiscent of the spark she noticed the first time she saw you, and she finds herself wanting to see more of it.
“Sure,” she says. “Just until the rain stops.” 
She would’ve regretted it if it weren’t for how your smile widened.
The days turn into weeks and an unexpected friendship forms between the two of you. 
Well, sort of.
Natasha wouldn’t exactly call you her friend; a pain in her ass would be a more apt description.
“So are you going to tell me what happened that led to you getting drunk before dinner or not?” Natasha asks in a scolding tone as she slams the car door.
She was holed up in the library, waiting along with Maria for their group meeting to start when she received a message from you, saying you needed someone to drive you home from the bar.
A sigh escapes her lips as she starts the car. She wishes she could say this had been the first time.
Truly, a pain in her ass.
“I’m not drunk, just a bit tipsy.” You defend yourself.
“That pout won’t work on me.”
You pout harder, arms crossed like a child deprived of her favorite toy. “How would you know? You weren’t even looking at me.” 
She only shoots you a raised brow in response. Sighing, your pout falls and you let your head rest against the window when you realize that trying to change the subject won’t work this time. 
When the car slows to a stop at a red light, Natasha sees the familiar distant look in your eyes and gets an idea of what it could be. Still, she says nothing, waiting as you muster the words.
The seconds are spent in silence before you begin to speak, jaws clenched.
“I missed her,” you blurt out, avoiding Natasha’s eyes as she takes a glance at you. “And I got tired of being reminded of her even in the smallest things. So I had a drink or two.”
You glare at the radio that’s softly playing in the background. “Even that song reminds me of her.”
“That’s normal. It’s only been a few weeks since you broke up, after all.”
You visibly wince at the latter part of Natasha’s sentence. 
“Just how much longer will it take, then?”
And despite knowing it was rhetorical, Natasha’s hand drums on the wheel and mulls the question over for three beats.
“I don’t know,” she says at last. She wishes she did.
The light turns green, and all other words die between you two as the car moves forward. 
It wasn’t hard to take you inside when you arrived at your place, much to Natasha’s surprise. You practically faceplant on the couch the moment you’ve entered your place, and Natasha freezes for a moment when she glances at the clock that glares red in the darkness of the room.
She’d told Maria she’d be back just in time.
“Nat,” you start, worried eyes following her line of sight. “You don’t have to stay, you know. I’ve already put you out too much.”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to, okay?”
It baffles you sometimes, how well Natasha can read you. 
Natasha watches as relief floods your features, breathing in deeply. “Thank you. What would I ever do without you?”
“You’d probably be lying in a ditch somewhere,” she jokes.
“I hope I never find out then,” you chuckle, placing your head on her lap. It was the first time Natasha heard you laugh all night, and she found that she liked being the cause of it.  “I wish I’d met you sooner, you know,” you whisper into the dark, almost imperceptible in your drowsiness.  
Natasha doesn’t know what to make of it, doesn’t have the energy to think about what it means. So she says nothing and lets the silence hang in the air as her steady fingers continue to brush tenderly through your hair.
Soon enough, your soft snores begin to fill the room as you fall into slumber.
When her phone rings, she carefully reaches for it to avoid jostling you awake. It’s a message from Maria.
Where are you? We’re about to start the meeting.
Hesitation gnaws at her for a long second. She’s never even missed a class before and was never the type to slack off on her studies. But one glance at your sleeping figure, peaceful except for the lone tear that left a wet trail on your cheek, and all second thoughts die. 
I can’t go today. I’ll just send you my part later.
Natasha presses send and turns her phone off without waiting for a reply. It was just one meeting, anyway. She’ll be able to catch up later.
Just this once, she promises.
You needed her right now.
The rest of the world can wait.
“Where exactly are we going?” 
Natasha knows she probably should’ve asked the moment you texted her to dress up. She definitely should’ve asked when you pulled up your car in front of her dorm minutes later, telling her you were going on a drive.
“You’ll know when we get there,” you answer simply with a teasing smile, knowing the mystery would annoy Natasha. 
Your teasing is rewarded with a huff from Natasha as she scoots into the passenger seat. Her feet are perched up on the dashboard despite your protests, hair tousling in the air whenever it blows. Her eyes start to droop; she had just finished studying to make up for the test she bombed that day when you came to pick her up, and in no time her head starts to bop along with the movement of the car, making you snicker.
The sun starts to meld with the horizon with its rays painting shades of orange on the sky when you park the car.
“We’re here,” you announce, with nerves seeping through in your voice as you unbuckle your belt.
Natasha looks out of the window and sees an open field of grass and flowers she couldn’t recognize as she unfastens her own and climbs out of the car. She’s never been to the place before.
“Why here?” She asks, following your lead. 
“I like to come out here alone whenever I feel overwhelmed by… things. Found this place by accident when I went on a drive to cool my head after a fight with Wanda.” You click your tongue, smiling bitterly in thought. “When you think about it, a lot of the times I came here was because of Wanda. We fought a lot.”
Natasha has to restrain herself from blurting out I figured. It’s not that she hates the woman. She just… simply isn’t her biggest fan right now.
“When you say you always come here alone you mean…?”
“Yep,” you answer as if you’ve read her mind. “I’ve never really brought anyone, not even Wanda.”
“And now? Why did you want to go here today?”
“Well,” you give her a small smile, your hands twisted on your back, and if Natasha didn’t know why better, she’d say you were being shy. “I heard that you were moping because you failed a test, so I thought maybe this could cheer you up or something?” Scratch that- you were being shy. The corners of Natasha’s lips tilt up to an amused smirk at your flustered reaction.  “When you think about it now it sounds kind of stup-”
“No,” she interrupts, voice light like she was dazed. “It’s not stupid. It’s… sweet, actually.”
She takes a deep breath, running her hands atop the flowers as she passes by them. The tension from her shoulders drops, and suddenly things feel a lot more bearable. Though it may have more to do with the fact that she was with you than the view.
“Anything for you,” you say with a wink.
It was teasing again, as it usually was with you, and yet. All Natasha could think of was how she was the only one you’d trusted like this. It was only her you trusted to be this vulnerable with. 
No one else was lucky enough to see this side of you, except for her. 
Knowing that set her chest on fire. It felt unlike anything she’d experienced before, and the sensation was completely overwhelming.
You stop walking, looking back at her when you notice she’s frozen on her spot. “What is it?”
“I…” I’m in love with you.
Oh, god. 
“Is something wrong?” You tilt your head, the amused expression on your face slowly turning into a concerned one as Natasha tries to find her voice. 
She can’t- shouldn’t- say it. So she shakes her head, mustering a smile she could only hope was convincing. 
“No. Nothing’s wrong.”
How did she not notice it sooner?
Natasha doesn’t fight it, immediately realizing it was one she couldn’t possibly win. She was far past the line of no return; Natasha’s thoughts have been filled with no one else but you from the day she first saw you.
The realization sits uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach. Because there was no way this was going to end well. 
She had never imagined love to be this frightening.
“You’re always so quiet,” you break the silence, snapping Natasha out of her thoughts.
The sun has now completely set and the only thing illuminating the place is the moon that has gone out of its hiding place. The stars look clearer here where it’s far from the heart of the city. 
“Are you calling me boring?”
“No!” Laughter bubbles out of your throat at the indignant tone in her voice. “Of course not. It’s comforting, is what I meant.”
“Sometimes I just don’t know what to say,” she says, needing to defend herself.
“Exactly. You don’t need to fill in the silence,” you say as you lay back on the grass, looking up at the sky. “Your presence is enough.”
Natasha wonders how you could quiet her fears without even knowing it. She feels warmth climb from her nape up to her cheeks at the sudden compliment, and bites her lip down, not knowing what she could reply to that.
A gasp escapes you as a silver streak suddenly shoots through the night sky. “Did you see that? Quick, make a wish!”
Natasha chuckles softly, her eyes never straying from your awed face. She doesn’t need to look at some falling piece of rock when the person beside her outshines it.
“You know it’s an asteroid, right?”
You roll your eyes, nudging your shoulder into hers. “Stop being a smartass for a second and just make a wish, Nat.”
The slightest of pouts begins to form on your lips, melting Natasha’s resolve. “All right, just stop pouting already.”
You beam in victory, and she finds that she doesn’t mind sundering if it gets you to smile like that, and so she faces the sky, shutting her eyes. She hesitates for a split second before making a wish, however foolish it felt. She has nothing to lose, anyway.
I wish, she breathes in, for her to look my way. 
The wind blows, making shivers run down her spine and she opens her eyes as the streak vanishes from the sky.
“Well? What did you wish for?”
When Natasha turns her head she finds you already looking at her, face lit up in curiosity. Hope takes root in her chest despite her protests and grows persistently as her lips slowly spread into a wide smile.
“It’s a secret.”
“Oh come on!” You whine. Natasha could only laugh at the childish act, and she avoids your attempt to hit her shoulder.
“If it comes true, I’ll tell you,” she promises. 
“I really hope it comes true then.”
She hopes so, too. 
The hope is short-lived, Natasha finds out all too soon.
The movie you’ve been begging to watch with her stays paused while Natasha waits for you to come back from the bathroom when your phone started to vibrate on the coffee table. 
“Hey, Y/n!” Natasha yells out. “You have a call!”
She leans in to see who’s calling, a soft smile appearing on her lips at your wallpaper: a photo of you and her at the field. You had your arm intertwined with hers, faces close as the two of you posed with the golden sky as your background. 
The smile falls when she looks at the caller ID. 
Wands <3
Natasha feels her stomach drop, and she could only stare at it as it stops ringing. The sound of your incoming footsteps makes her snap out of it.
“Did you check who it was?”
“No,” Natasha says. The lie tastes bitter in her mouth. She promptly averts her eyes, but not before seeing how your eyes lit up in excitement when you checked your phone.
You scooch, returning to your previous position on the couch. “Play the movie. It was just getting to the good part.”
Natasha does as you say, and doesn’t respond anymore in favor of watching the movie, expecting you to do the same.
Later, though, when she turns to look at you at a particularly funny scene, she finds your eyes remained glued to your phone with a giddy smile on your face. 
“We have to leave now if we want to make it home on time, Nat. Mom and Dad are waiting for us to go home so we could have dinner together.”
Yelena sighs exasperatedly for the dozenth time, pulling the chair in front of Natasha for her to sit in.
“Just let me wait for another ten minutes, okay?”
She stares at the screen of her phone, her hold on it tightening as she wills for a message from you to come.
Where are you?
I’ve been waiting at Joe’s for an hour.
You didn’t forget our plans today, right?
It doesn’t come.
“You know she’s been meeting that Wanda girl again right? I saw them at the mall together the other day, when I was buying your gift.”
The day the two of you were supposed to hang out, the day where you’d bailed up on her at the last minute. Just like you did with every plan you’ve had with her recently.
It had been two weeks of canceled plans and messages left on seen.
“I know.”
And God, she wishes she didn’t, if only she could stay naively happy and hopeful in your company, even for a little while.
Yelena’s brows rise in slight surprise, and Natasha rolls her eyes at her sister’s reaction.
“I’m not stupid, Yelena. Of course I’ve noticed.”
“Then why do this?”
She says nothing, but she has the nagging suspicion that Yelena understands; Natasha would keep on choosing you in hopes that for once you’d do the same.
Love really does make a fool out of people, doesn’t it?
“You can’t love her into loving you, Nat.”
The screen of her phone lights up. Finally, a message from you comes and Natasha is quick to open it.
I’m so sorry!!! I forgot
Are you still at Joe’s?
I’m on my way
So you did forget. Natasha bites her inner cheek, trying to swallow down the disappointment, and spectacularly fails at it. 
It’s fine. Yelena and I need to go now anyway.
Can I come over to your dorm tomorrow?
I swear I’ll make it up to you!!
“You can’t love her into loving you, Nat,” Yelena says, and Natasha doesn’t look up, not wanting to see the pity that was probably etched onto her sister’s face right now.
Her phone vibrates one more time.
Happy birthday, Nat. 
“I know that now.”
The next day comes and you enter her dorm carrying a box of cake that you insist is your way of making it up to her. There’s an eager smile pasted on your face that seemed uncharacteristic even for you- you were practically beaming- and dread starts building up in the pit of Natasha’s stomach because she could only think of one reason why.
“Wanda and I are back together.”
She hears you say, and she knows you’re saying more because your mouth is moving but the words begin to sound muffled and distant like she’s submerged underwater. You wave your hand in front of her, snapping her back to reality.
You roll your eyes. “Were you even listening to me?”
“Yes- but I mean why?  You’d go back to her? Even after everything that happened?”
“Because I love her, Nat,” you say, shrugging as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Her chest constricts at the glaringly obvious knowledge that her feelings are one-sided, and though she had seen this coming, she feels the impact as her heart crashes on the ground all the same. “Aren’t you happy for me?”
And that’s the thing: you would keep on waiting for Wanda to come back with open arms, and Natasha would keep on waiting, hoping to get an ounce of love you had for her.
Natasha shakes her head in disbelief. “She treated you like you were some sort of toy she doesn’t want to play with anymore.”
“It wasn’t that bad-”
“You spent weeks crying over her, Y/N.”
“She already apologized to me for that, Nat. Wanda is treating me better now.” You say, hand on Natasha’s leg, prompting her to understand you. 
Natasha moves away, letting your hand fall. “I just think she doesn’t deserve you.” You were getting annoyed, she could tell, from the way your brows start to knit. “Then who does?” 
Your eyes desperately dart over Natasha’s face in search of an answer. Something in her expression felt familiar, and Natasha could only watch as your eyes widen, finally recognizing it for what it is.  Natasha’s lips admit nothing, but it was her eyes that reflect the truth.
It wasn’t annoyance at you for running back to your ex that had unsettled Natasha, you realize. It was heartbreak. You of all people would recognize it, and looking at Natasha right now was like looking at a mirror months ago.
“Natasha,” you gasp out.
She clenches her fist at the name, digging her nails into her palm. It felt weird to hear you call her that. It had always been Nat to you. But things have been rapidly changing between the two of you recently, so she supposes it was about time she stopped being so surprised. 
“Since when?” is all you say, giving no context, but Natasha understands, just like she has all those times before. You know. 
“Since,” she starts before taking in a shaky breath. It was hard to get the words out, knowing this could end everything. “Since that day in the field.” 
A tense silence falls as you stood unbelievably still, looking so stunned Natasha has to laugh a little despite the suffocating pressure in her chest. 
“Fuck, maybe even before that.”
The confused look on your face finally turns into one of understanding, and you nod, seeming to finally process what Natasha has said.
“Look, I do care about you, Nat. And I wish I could- but I can’t-”
“Don’t.” She interrupts in a sharp tone, cutting you off so abruptly you nearly stumble over your words. It was just so like you to try to ease her pain that it only breaks her heart more. “Don’t finish that sentence. Please.”
It starts to feel like barbed wire is wrapped around her neck as she forces herself to swallow down the tears that threaten to spill. “I know you don’t feel the same. I know that it’ll always be Wanda, just. Don’t let me hear you say it.”
You look like you’re about to say something, your lips waver as you try to find the right words, but all that comes out is: “I’m so sorry, Nat.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” 
It wasn’t you who messed this up by daring to go closer than she should’ve to the sun and expected for it to not burn.
Unable to stop yourself from the urge any longer, you step forward, wrapping your arms around Natasha. And there, in your arms, she lets the tears fall, lets them stain the collar of your shirt. 
“We can still be friends, right?” you whisper, and it sounds like a plea.  
“Of course,” she replies. But there’s a finality in the way Natasha clings to you tighter- as if she’s committing the feeling to her memory- that makes you think otherwise. 
She wishes she could mean it, wishes she could continue playing the ever-faithful best friend role if only to be in the front row of your smiles that she loves so much, the type that turns your eyes into crescents. But she can’t stay at your side while you’re with Wanda, spending her days pining away. She won’t be that person. 
Natasha may be an idiot when it comes to you but she knew her worth.
“I do love you, you know,” you say when Natasha begins to pull away all too soon. Your hands come up to brush away her tears, your touch unbelievably gentle as you do.
Natasha closes her eyes and leans into your touch. For a second, she lets the words soothe her. For a second, she lets herself pretend. Then she opens her eyes.
“Just not the same way.”
You smile bitterly. “Just not the same way.”
Natasha could only nod, once again feeling the burning pressure in her throat. When it’s time for you to leave, she stands there, staring at your retreating back until you’re no longer in her line of sight.
And that was how it ends.
The world keeps on spinning. The days pass by with an unbearable sameness- she attends her classes and goes home with a hollow feeling in her chest- and Natasha learns to live with half a heart. It had been unbearable, still is, on some days more than the others, but the ache that came with it is one she has grown accustomed to like an old friend.
The only time she sees you again is in passing; in the hallway, in the cafe, in the library. Your paths seem to cross often, and Natasha can’t help but feel like the world is playing a cruel joke. Each time, she notices that Wanda is always around you without fail. She kept her promise. Natasha sees it in how the light had found its way back into your eyes in a way she hadn’t noticed when she was with you. 
You looked radiant.
That look had always been reserved for Wanda, she realizes.
Sometimes, your eyes would meet hers from across the room with guilt embedded in them, and Natasha wishes you wouldn’t. She thinks about the moments she’s spent with you- all the laughter, the comfort, even the pain.  She thinks about how she doesn’t regret a single thing, and if she were to have the chance, she’d do it all over again. 
She fell alone as she dared to come too close to the sun, and she doesn’t feel an ounce of regret, because it meant that at one point she knew what warmth felt like. 
Taglist:  @gimaximoff @xxromanoffxx @natashalovers @acertainredhead @natasha-danvers @reminiscingtonight @nataliaromanova-widow @helios-lair @tastetherambeau @strangegardentaco​ @natashasilverfox​
if you want to be added or removed, don’t hesitate to tell me <3
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multifandomme · 2 days ago
Surrender - WandaNat x Reader [18+]
A/N: I haven’t written wandanat in a while, so here is my newest instalment. I received a request to a similar effect but decided to repurpose it into a threesome scenario. I hope that you all enjoy it and as always, happy reading <3
Summary: When Natasha is suspected to be a double agent, you are sent to conduct an interrogation. But how will she fare against your unprecedented tactics?
Cw: Smut, choking, face slapping, praise kink, daddy kink, d/s dynamics, restraints, use of magic, coercion, orgasm control, hair pulling, biting.
Word Count: 2755.
The clamour of metal penetrated the silence, the continual clatter indicating a vehement resistance. You had expected nothing less, genuinely surprised to have subjugated the target to begin with. Natasha grunted in exasperation, the chance of escape thinning with every ounce of energy that she exerted, exhaustion setting in. The redhead's efforts were stymied in a flash, a burst of scarlet flurrying towards her and rendering her catatonic, mouth agape, mindless as she stared towards you.
"Natasha Romanoff," you sighed, your hand gesturing upwards and inciting the ebbing out of the vermillion force that stole her of thought. "Always the fighter, hm?"
"Who sent you?" Natasha growled, her fury barely housed within her, green orbs scoping the area with growing suspicion. "How did you find me?"
You chuckled aloud as you dared an approach, hands reaching out to assure the rigidity of the chains that bound her to the chair. Natasha was adept in assassination, you knew that, every precaution extended to ensure that she stayed put, by any means necessary. It was a strike of luck that had led you to her in the first place and you intended on keeping her contained.
"The Avengers," you admitted, her teeth gritted angrily upon hearing the name fall from your lips. "Looks like someone got in with the wrong crowd, again."
"Do you really believe that?" Natasha questioned, her eyes devoid of any emotion bar anger, vexed by the mere possibility that you doubted her loyalty for a second. "Do you?"
Nonchalantly, you drew your hands upward in surrender, an act that had Natasha thrashing against her restraints once more, infuriated.
"I remain undecided," you smirked, your thumb brushing over her full lips as you watched her swivel in rejection of your touch. "I'm here to gather intel," you revealed, shortly. "Nothing more."
Natasha scoffed, almost amused by your response, though you could only imagine what bubbled below the surface. Her eyes grew black beneath the dim lighting of the warehouse, silence engulfing the space and persisting.
"What makes you think that I'll talk?" Natasha challenged, her head half-tilted in intrigue.
A simper curled your mouth upwards, blossoming wider as you knelt down to meet her eye line. Soft fingertips brushed her fiery tresses from her face, clinging to the perspiration that beaded upon her forehead. You had expected a sharp avoidance, though surprisingly, she did not recoil.
"Oh, I know that you won't," you conceded, the woman's eyes flaring with the confusion of being read. "That's why I came prepared."
The redhead hummed, a disinterested expression taking hold of her features as if doubtful of your claim. You had known of the torture that she could withstand and in any case, had priorly vowed to bring something different, something that evaded what she was accustomed to.
"You're going to torture me," Natasha predicted, her eyes rolling into the back of her head, bored by the prospect. "How original."
You paused in place, feigning as if the woman had uncovered the rouse. A smirk painted her lips, widening as she observed you falter before her, completely taken by your misleading of her.
"No," you replied, bluntly, an air of victory enclosing around you as you saw her smile yank itself from her mouth, replaced with a distinct uncertainty. "It's too familiar."
An audible gulp sounded, Natasha fidgeting in place though thwarted by the metal that restrained her. Pink-tinted cheeks drained of life, paled as she gathered the courage to meet your gaze once more, anxiety lapping away at her usual objectiveness.
"What are you going to do to me?"
The question hung thickly in the air, unanswered as you circled her as a means of fuelling the suspense that existed. Swiftly, your fingers sprung to grasp at her throat, the oxygen freeing itself from Natasha's lungs as she choked out, blindsided by the sudden manoeuvre.
"You," you snarled, her eyes flickering in terror. "You belong to me now."
Natasha squirmed beneath your grasp, her attempt at an escape foiled by your unyielding grip on her. Even with her breath so ruthlessly robbed from her, it did not deter the woman from verbal retaliation.
"Rot in hell," she gasped, the words exiting no louder than a whisper though the threat behind them was violently real, her glare callous with intent.
A wry chuckle fled from you, Natasha's threat only instilling more motivation to subdue her as you cinched harder around her slender throat. The woman released a strangled groan, the whites of her eyeballs presented to you and indicating a looming loss of consciousness. Abruptly, you freed her, observing carefully as Natasha quickly came to, willing away her weakness with a hasty shake of her head.
"Gladly," you responded, sardonically as you leaned in, your lips barely an inch from her own as she jostled to fight the urge to resist temptation, her senses still partially clouded. "But I'll be taking you with me."
Green orbs disappeared behind heavy eyelids, control relinquished for a second as she basked in the sensation of your warm breath against her mouth. You inched closer, Natasha securely in your possession as you held her by the jaw this time, fingernails burying harshly into the bone there. A tiny moan escaped from her, uncontrolled, regret inherent in the way her eyes widened in realisation of what she had let slip.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" You queried, though the answer was starkly visible in the way Natasha mewled out in reply, teeth piercing into her lips for leverage, her eyes desperate to avert in deflection. "You like being interrogated, manhandled?"
Crimson adorned Natasha’s cheeks in an instant, any hint of a reply obstructed by teeth-clamped lips. The woman’s defences seemed to falter before you, collapsing just enough for you to infiltrate. Your eyes honed in upon her neck, her heart racing with such force that you could see her jugular twitch with every beat, lightly protruding from the skin. Instinctively, your tongue sneaked outwards to paint your lips with fresh saliva, momentarily claimed by the fantasies that clouded your mind, those that detailed the lasting marks you wished to leave upon her. 
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Ms Romanoff,” you began, daring to lurch forwards to trail your lips along her throat. “Read your file,” you continued, a low moan reverberating against your mouth. “I know that I’m fighting a battle that you’ve already won.”
The redhead panted, complete disarmament finding her as she relaxed into your touch, her curiosity piercing through her momentary entrancement. 
“Then why are you trying?”
A hum of amusement filled the brief silence as you retreated, intent on occluding the temptation that festered within you. Though you would never admit it to Natasha, you were taken, sure that any further exploration of her body at your hands would render you affected, addicted even. 
“Because I have new interrogation tactics,” you revealed, proudly. “And it would be a real shame to leave them untested.”
Natasha sucked in a breath, her panic felt tenfold when the air around her spiralled in red once more, a lone twisting strand drifting towards her. The redhead’s orbs fell into darkness, sparkling with obsidian as she remembered the torment that the unknown force had incited earlier. 
“What is this?” Natasha worried, terror holding her hostage. “What are you doing to me?”
An answer failed to find Natasha, your gaze reclaimed by the rusted door that existed beside you, a knowing smirk lurking upon your mouth.
“Baby, you can come out now,” you instructed, your tone soft and coaxing as you stared expectantly, the thick door soon creaking open in the wake of your command.
Wanda peeked out with caution, her striking blue eyes staring deeply into yours as she travelled hastily to land at your side. The brunette did not throw a second look towards the bound Natasha, her attention undivided, wholeheartedly intent on you. 
“I did everything just as you asked, Daddy,” Wanda beamed, her proudness evident in the way her teeth dazzled out into the gloom of the warehouse. 
Your heart melted at the sight of Wanda’s joy upon pleasing you, palms immediately pressing to her face to draw her close, her lips pouted in search of yours. Denying her was futile, frantic in feeling her against you as you kissed with ardor, passion that brimmed with every second that passed by. Wanda whined shamelessly into your mouth, unfazed by the silent spectator who watched on, transfixed by the sight before her. Curiously, you opened your eyes, Natasha’s tensing thighs not lost on you as you inwardly smiled at the reaction the two of you had inflicted.
“You were so good for me,” you extolled, the apples of Wanda’s cheeks inflated with delight, a gentle blush materialising. “But I need you to do what Daddy taught you, hm?”
Natasha released a sharp exhale, her fear blatant as her eyes flickered wildly between the two of you, unsure of who to be more wary of. 
Wanda outstretched her fingers, eyes narrowing with newfound focus as the scarlet threads expelled from them, her sights set on the restrained redhead.
“This won’t hurt,” Wanda assured, though her tone remained hesitant, unconvincing. “As long as you’re a good girl, like me.”
In a split second, Natasha’s clothes were stripped of her, shredded mid-air as the scraps of material rained to the floor, irreparable. A loudened gasp blurted from the redhead as she glanced downwards to regard her indecency, only underwear separating her from full frontal nudity. For a moment, you assumed her silence to denote crippling dread, until you noticed her thighs rubbing together once more, seeking inconspicuous alleviation. 
“Good girl,” you praised, earnestly, a wink thrown in Wanda’s direction. “Just like we practiced.”
A nod of permission saw Wanda’s grin ebbing out into seriousness, dropping to her knees before the redhead without a hesitation. Natasha squealed out as Wanda parted her thighs with unrivalled strength, an unyielding glare of warning tossed to the latter.
“Please,” Natasha urged, weakly. “Tell me what you’re going to do to me.”
Wanda laughed, eerily, its sound echoing out into the expansiveness of the room as she swivelled to regard you, a knowing smirk plastered to her lips.
“Why don’t you tell her, princess,” you instructed, sensing the dwindling of Wanda’s patience, too enthralled with the prospect of what was to come. 
The brunette shook with excitement, orbs of azure bursting with zeal as she turned to face Natasha, peering up from between her thighs.
“I’m going to torture you,” Wanda disclosed, a mischievous simper never straying from her. 
Natasha’s sentence was occluded by a set of teeth sinking into the skin of her thigh, a pained hiss exuding from her in response. A thickened silence persisted for a second, the redhead left in a daze by the sudden act, though simultaneously thrilled by it.
“Uh oh, you didn’t let me finish,” Wanda cooed, her tongue flickering softly against the bite mark that now adorned the woman’s porcelain skin. “I’m going to torture you... with my mouth.”
The brunette pushed aside Natasha’s underwear in haste, amused by the glistening flesh that she was met with. Wanda's tongue dragged languidly against the wetness, pausing once she arrived upon Natasha’s clit and sucking fervently. Desperate groans pierced the silence, repetitive and intense as the redhead wrangled pathetically with the restraints, the jangle of metal sounding without respite.
“When she’s finished with you,” you began, your feet propelling you until you lingered directly behind Natasha, fingers threaded tightly into her velvet locks. “Not only will you talk, you will fucking sing.”
Wanda hummed in agreement, the vibrations absorbed by Natasha’s needy pussy as she shook, infuriated by her state of makeshift imprisonment. The redhead’s reactions only fuelled your intention of exacerbating her as you yanked her hair from the scalp, the pain sharp enough to draw mewls from the weakened assassin. 
“That’s it, princess,” you encouraged, Wanda shivering in response to the praise that you bestowed upon her. “Use that pretty mouth just as Daddy taught you.”
Natasha’s knuckles whitened below the force that she exerted, her wrists grappling helplessly against the restraints. Her teeth clasped ruthlessly against her plump lips, rouged with blood from the droplets that had subsequently prickled the surface. Moans rumbled in her throat, though her pride knew better than to let them escape, her mind embroiled in a ferocious battle with her bodily reactions.
“Oh, fuck,” the redhead cursed, her whispered tone depicting the humiliation that riddled her, avid in her rejection of being affected, of becoming a slave to the pleasure that Wanda provided.
“How does it feel?” You tormented, delivering a particularly brutal tug to Natasha’s hair, a sudden squeal bursting from her. “Ready to come clean?”
The redhead shook her head frantically in rebuttal, words failing her as she bucked into Wanda’s face, consumed by ecstasy. Natasha’s resistance had been expected, your hands retracting to sneak below the material of the assassin’s bra, toying with the peaks of her nipples. The buds hardened with immediacy, called into rigidity by the adeptness of your manoeuvres, Natasha’s head thrown backwards as she clung to the fading traces of her self-control.
Wanda drew backwards, her mouth glimmering with arousal as her tongue collected the remnants, marvelling at the taste.
“What should I do now, Daddy?” Wanda asked, a sole finger probing teasingly at Natasha’s entrance, a chuckle emitting as she observed Natasha thrashing wildly to manipulate the digit to land inside of her.
The brunette giggled as she sank the intrusion in halfway only to remove it upon attaining a desperate whine from Natasha. It was evident that the assassin was growing impatient, her control stretched thin as her moans transformed into carnal growls, low and frenzied.
“Fuck her,” you commanded, bluntly. “And when she starts to cum,” you whispered, your mouth pressed to the shell of Natasha’s ear. “Stop and make her beg.”
Wanda wasted no time, her digits hasty in their commencement as they slammed into Natasha’s twitching hole. The redhead gripped the chair with unrivalled strength, the veins in her arms drawn to the surface from the exertion. Your fingers continued to unleash torture upon her nipples, now sore and irritated from the avid stimulation. Wanda pummelled without relent, no heed paid towards Natasha’s condition as she leaned in sporadically to suckle upon her clit, laughter rumbling from her.
“Awww,” Wanda mocked, retracting with suddenness. “Was someone about to cum so soon?”
Natasha cried out, tears forming in her eyes until they slid down her reddened cheeks, exasperated and unsatisfied.
“Tell us everything,” you demanded, forcefully, your palm smacking haphazardly against Natasha’s face, the tears sinking into your hand. “Or I promise that you will continue to be denied.”
An epoch of silence occurred, obscured solely by the heavy exhales that passed through Natasha’s mouth, hung agape in a coalescence of desperation and blossoming fatigue.
“I...” Natasha breathed, fighting desperately to locate her logic in her state of mindlessness. “I-I’m being framed.”
You hummed, ruminatively, a gentle hand falling to ruffle affectionately atop Natasha’s hair.
“Good girl,” you smirked. “See, that wasn’t so hard was it, hm?”
Wanda’s mouth reconnected upon Natasha’s clit, avid in the completion of the task at hand, until you thwarted her efforts.
“I think Daddy should finish up, princess,” you insisted, observing as Wanda quickly leapt to her feet in compliance, allowing you to take her place. “I want to feel her cum on my fingers.”
Wanda nodded submissively, a meek smile bitten away as she moved to encircle her hand around Natasha’s throat, a moderate cinch incurring. Natasha sighed, the moment of pacification seemingly extended as you thrust two fingers inside of her. Pleasured cries rang out into the vicinity, heightening as you increased the pace, Natasha barely able to withstand the bliss that flooded her senses. Her pussy fluttered around your digits, the tension building until she froze, rigid against the restraints as she came undone. With her back arched, she shrieked aloud, visibly shaking as she descended back to reality, a reality which saw her succumb, her resistance forsaken.
“Are you going to let me go?” Natasha asked, hopefully as she glanced down towards the chains that anchored her in place.
Wanda flashed a knowing grin towards you, her cheeks plumped in an attempt to stifle her laughter.
“No,” you rebutted, your thumb trailing delicately along Natasha’s jaw. “We’re far from done here, isn’t that right, princess?”
Wanda could only nod violently in response.
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genderfluid-moth · a day ago
Maybe Natasha and Mreader who’s just like…a normal dude? Like he works at bakery his aunt aunt owns and maybe he works out so he’s fit (kneading dough is hard work) but otherwise he’s just like a civilian. And he thinks his girlfriend is the coolest most badass lady in the world. He will gas her up as long as she wants. Some guy being an asshole to them in public? Reader is happy to hold Nat’s purse while she sorts him out.
A/N:This was such a cute submission, it kinda got away from me but I hope it came out alright. Also there’s a bun joke at the end bc me and my friend were kidding around so I’m sorry in advance.
Word count: 1,473
Intended M!Reader x Natasha
The encounters weren’t frequent at the start. The few times the red head stopped by it was for a pastry at the early opening hours. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued by the avenger that walked through the door, but nonetheless you behaved like you did with all your customers. When you asked for a name, you can tell by the look on her face she was taken by surprise.
After she ordered, she had seated herself in the corner. This location within the bakery being where she would normally sit when she’d stay. Usually abandoned by any other customers who would choose to enjoy their pastries in the small shop, opting to sit by the windows. The cream colored walls and the aroma of coffee that circulated were more prominent in that corner as she’d come to tell you later. The shop was a family business that you took part in for years, childhood memories from behind the counter, watching as the ingredients mixed and made whatever good you asked for that day. The familiarity of the warm tones and distant chatter had somehow put you at ease every time you walked through the doors.
It took a long time for Natasha to warm up to you, the long breaks in between her visits weren’t helpful at that. You often busied yourself with cleaning the surrounding surfaces and counters as to avoid staring, but the lack of customers would make that difficult at times. You didn’t have much in common with the avenger, but you attempted to speak with her during the brief encounters. The time she came back with a gash on her forehead was also the time she had laughed for the first time. Some corny joke aligning with a croissant, or something close to it, you couldn’t remember anymore. The sound had left your mind blank and for a moment it seemed like you had completely lost yourself. Work became more pleasant when she decided to stop by, something which was almost impossible to imagine.
You started noticing the subtle stares, particularly when you were working. You’d offered to make anything she liked at her request, even if you didn’t have it. It provided you with a challenge. As you worked the dough you glanced over, planning to get one of the ingredients, and caught her gaze completely transfixed on your biceps while she was sipping on her coffee. You grinned slightly, and once she’d noticed her staring she gave a shy smile and looked down at the drink in her hands. The light blush that stained her cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by you, and it put a smile on your own face.
Her requests grew more complex as the weeks went on, and you would laser focus on whatever she asked you to make. You knew she was looking, she knew you knew, but neither of you acknowledged it. It made you grow a little bolder. The next time she came in, you made two pastries and sat with her. Opting to taste it with her, since you had taken your break and no customers were inside of course. The short woman didn’t protest your company. The two of you made this a new habit. Conversations about whatever mundane or minuscule topics came to mind. She started telling you when she would be gone for some time, and it was then you grew the courage to write your phone number on her coffee cup.
“ Why don’t you let me know when you’re back, I’ll make sure you get the welcome you deserve.” An offhand comment you made whilst handing her the drink that sounded more suggestive than you intended.
“ Is that an invitation?” She retorted, giving that sly smile as she looked up at you.
“ Only if you make it.” It took you everything not to combust then. You’re intent wasn’t to come across so strongly, but as she sauntered off you thanked whatever higher being was out there that it worked. The teasing from your aunt about your new girlfriend was well worth it.
When she did return, she let you know, and you held out on your promise. You treated her to a dinner that was met with bright smiles, you decided your new favorite color was green now. The candlelight illuminated her emerald eyes and you could’ve sworn they were sparkling. Not wanting the evening to end so early, the two of you wandered the streets of New York, getting lost in the crowds while the city lights hung overhead. The dress she wore complimented her figure and the color meshed well with her bright hair, she was elegant. Every time she looked up at you to meet your eyes you held her gaze. The drinks might have been having an effect on you.
You stopped at a small mart, Natasha talking about some ice cream Tony had bought that she was dreaming about. She praised you for being “such a gentleman” for opening the door for her. The teasing continued once the two of you had left with the two flavors you opted for. The conversation was softer in tone now. It seemed intimate and you knew the moment you were in would be seared into your memory.
“ How is it?” She asked.
“ I can see why a billionaire would buy this, it’s good.” You chuckled.
“ I haven’t had that flavor yet actually.”
“ Want a taste?” Before you can mull over what you’d just said, she took the desert out of your hand. Your eyes involuntary following the movement, zeroing in on her lips as she pulled it away.
You don’t really know what came over you, she was looking at you and then your mouth was on hers. You pulled away after a little breathless. “ You missed some” was all you mustered before she pulled you back.
As your relationship progressed Natasha opened up more to you. She let you meet her family, she told you about her past, and you held nothing but admiration for the woman. You never pushed her, but you were always there for the nightmares and such. She loved you and you loved her.
When she was home you would do your best to make sure she felt rested. Small head massages when she was stressed writing a mission report. Making sure she woke up to the smell of fresh breakfast in the mornings she stayed for. She’d return the favor with lingering touches and small kisses, using your shoulders as leverage to meet your lips. If you were working later or she’d catch you before you left you’d close the shop together.
Whenever she got ready for an event you’d remind her of how stunning she was whilst helping with her necklace or a string. Leaving kisses along her neck which she would sigh at, no doubt leaving you late at times.
Leading to today, your girlfriend was curled up next to you on the couch with a glass of wine in hand. Back from a long mission that lasted several weeks, the comfort of your shared apartment was a long awaited luxury she had longed for. 
“ He was so infuriating, his stupid face was getting on my nerves.” The wine had seemingly started taking its effects on the two of you.
“ I’m sure he deserved it, and I’m sure you set him straight. Didn’t you baby?”
She hummed “ Yes, yes I did.” She beamed up at you, pressing a light kiss against your lips.
“ Cmon, let’s get you in bed. I think we’ve had enough for tonight.”
As you cleaned up the takeout and abandoned the glasses in the sink for the morning, you went back to your room to see her in your t-shirt, getting ready for bed.
“You need to make that cinnamon bun again,” She remarked “I’ve been craving it since I left.”
“ I’ll make it tomorrow while you’re at work and drop them off for you if you want.”
“ That sounds great, thank you. Just don’t let Sam see, the last time you dropped them off he made an offhand comment about you getting different buns.” She rolled her eyes. You chuckled at that, discarding your shirt as you stalked up to the bed.
“ I mean he’s not wrong.” You grinned.
Climbing into bed you were sure there was no better place than in your girlfriend's arms. Even when they were met with a playful glare and a smack to the shoulder. As she nuzzled her head into your neck you caught the aroma of the caramel coffee beans and vanilla. Her hand grazed against your exposed skin, leaving goosebumps along your skin before encasing your hand and squeezing three times. You smiled and kissed her head, a small “I love you too” whispered before sleep encased you both.
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val-made-a-mistake · 2 days ago
❝i can’t seem to get you off my mind.❞
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(not my gif)
summary: months after the catastrophic queenie blackfield race that led you into the bed of “jessica warton”, you and the thieves guild have been employed by an on-the-run natasha romanoff to free the brainwashed widows in the macau region of china and relocate them to madripoor where they’ll be safe, more or less. you’re secretly grappling with your desperation to see natasha again - and you’re whiplashed to learn that she is, in fact, in macau. you’re given her address and a choice.
warnings: smut, guns (bullets are fired once again), blood and injuries, vaping or juuling idk if there’s a difference because i don’t do either, alcohol, mentions of mice and hoarders, a tiny bit of reckless driving. as for the smut, there’s oral sex f receiving, name-calling and natasha’s hand is on the reader’s throat at one point
word count: 5.6k
tag list: @emril-osvigne @simplysimping999 @santasbitch
a/n: okay, okay, i promised a part two to this one shot a million years ago and now that we’re all ten months older, i finally got around to writing it. it has been MUCH TOO LONG and i missed you all terribly. some good news - this will most likely become a mini series :)
“I’ve heard blowing on your thumb works,” Lucia said fairly as you drove through the intersection, “Have you tried that?”
“What the hell does any of this have to do with thumbs?” you shot back, not quite calmly— you were playing on completely unknown turf tonight, for the first time in your life, and it unnerved you. “Can we just have a quiet ride for once?”
Lucia held her hands up like you were pointing a gun at her. “Jeez, I’m just trying to help. You look...uptight.”
You bit back the words no shit and squinted at the GPS. “This place is weird.”
That was true. You hadn’t been in Macau for more than twenty four hours, but it gave you a haunting feeling unlike any other, and you previously thought you were used to haunting feelings considering the place you’d just come from and the place where you were raised. You were dealing with matters much bigger and less trivial than Queenie Blackfield tonight, too.
It was just a Guild affair, technically, you weren’t required to emotionally invest yourself in it at all, but that was hard to do considering the woman who had placed herself smack dab in the middle of the mission, and what had happened when you’d last seen this woman.
You’d been pissed during packing, pissed during the drive to the airport, pissed during customs, and you were downright fuming ever since you’d landed in China. Jessica Warton wasn’t at all who she said she was, and now everyone had to deal with the consequences.
“At least there’s a bright side,” Lucia replied, staring straight ahead through the rainy windshield as though she could see, “We shouldn’t have to stay here for more than two hours. At the club, I mean. We have more than enough freeing agent to get the job done.”
“Twenty four Widows?” you muttered under your breath, irritated about yet another thing as you looked over your shoulder to parallel park. “I mean, who the hell has any use for twenty four brainwashed Widows in Macau? We’re literally nowhere near the Red Room.”
“Dreykov did, apparently.” Lucia shrugged, apathetic to the situation. “Don’t look at me, I nearly failed chemistry in high school. I have no idea why J - I mean, Natasha is trusting us with all this chemical shit.”
A metal hand seized your heart upon hearing her name, and your hand tensed around the wheel as everything came flooding back.
Your lips on hers. Your hand between her thighs. Her sweetness on your tongue.
You inhaled sharply, hoping Lucia hadn’t noticed your misstep, and blinked yourself back to the present.
You shoved the gearshift forward with an aggressive finality. “C’mon, Zara and Dess should be by the front entrance by now.”
“Y’all ready for tonight?” Odessa called as you strode over to the front entrance. Unsurprisingly, even though she was in a completely foreign country, she was still beaming like she owned the world.
“Honestly, I should be asking if you’re ready for tonight,” you called back, a playful grin pulling at your lips like Natasha had never happened. “You’re gonna get your ass kicked, y’know that?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her,” Zara chimed in, sucking on a Juul.
“What’re the bets looking like?” Lucia asked mildly.
“I dunno, it’s all done on the dark web…”
In that moment, Juan poked his head through the front doors. “Dess?”
You discreetly elbowed Zara in the ribs before she could do something embarrassing as Odessa stepped forward, oblivious. “Yeah?”
Juan smirked. “They got the dressing room set, if you wanna come. Elevator’s just up this way.”
Odessa brushed stray hair out of her face and smiled, a soft smile so unlike her usual cocky one. “I know, I’m coming.”
She turned back to the group. “You guys good?”
When everyone nodded, she hurried away, and Zara dramatically rolled her eyes.
“Oh my god, he’s eye fucking her,” Lucia exclaimed as soon as the door had swung shut. “We’re so fucking close, I can literally taste it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered as you pushed away the thought of phantom lips on yours. “Can we go in now?”
The place smelled so overpoweringly of weed that at first you didn’t even notice the bouncer standing in front of you.
“Holy shit, Y/N Y/L/N?” he said, peering down at your face.
You blinked at him in return, trying to figure out how he knew your name. “Uh, I only have Madripoorian ID.”
“That doesn’t matter, I know who you are,” he responded enthusiastically, already pulling out his phone. “I watch all of your races, you’re fucking legendary.”
For the first time in a while, your mind went completely blank. “What?”
“We know, she’s like a god behind the wheel,” Zara responded, stepping in front of you. “Did you see the last Blackfield race?”
“Smoked her,” the bouncer agreed, shoving a bright screen in your face, and when you squinted at it, you saw a bright red Corvette zooming down a familiar street.
The bouncer flashed you a toothy grin. “The video has nearly a hundred thousand likes, you know that? I was on your subreddit not too long ago, we thought you fucking died. What made you stop racing?”
You were struggling to put two and two together so much that you barely even heard the question. “I - I have an international following?”
“Fuck yeah you do. You didn’t know that?”
You felt Lucia’s arms wrap around you from behind before you could even begin to contemplate a response.
“Dapatkah kita pergi?” she hissed urgently into your ear.
“Maaf, satu menit,” you breathed back, then turned to the bouncer. “Uh, that’s great, but we should really-”
“We should really get going,” Zara said hurriedly, nodding a bit too quickly. “Thanks.”
With that, everyone awkwardly shuffled away.
“You okay?” you asked Lucia as soon as you’d made it into the dressing room.
“Fine,” she answered. “Just - big sweaty crowds, y’know, they’re not my strong suit.”
“I know,” you said sympathetically, and from across the room, Castillo nodded at you as a form of greeting.
“Don Julio?” he asked, indicating the tequila bottle in his hand.
“Fuck yes,” you replied. Ever since Natasha’s departure three months ago, you’d been drinking more heavily than usual— you weren’t sure what prompted it, you could only suppose you were craving that blissful unawareness of your surroundings more than usual.
“Twenty four Widows,” Juan muttered under his breath as Castillo unscrewed the Don Julio. “Shit is insane.”
“I know, right?” Odessa said, watching her glimmering reflection in the mirror. “You got the freeing agent, right?”
“Over here,” said Zara, indicating a briefcase.
“Everyone know their positions?” Lucia asked.
“This again?” you asked, your voice seeping with disdain.
Lucia held her hands up in defeat. “I’m just making sure.”
“It’s nearly ten, we should start heading up,” Juan said, cutting in between you.
By the time you’d made it into the stands above the ring, your blood was running so cold it felt like your heart had ceased to beat altogether.
To soothe your nerves, Zara had bought you a flashy sort of drink, poured into an empty plastic lightbulb. You weren’t sure what it was and you were too afraid to ask, but it tasted like peaches and the LED ice cubes inside flashed to the beat of the fast rap song thundering throughout the club.
“When’s it gonna start?” you heard Zara say.
Almost as though to answer her, there was a sudden, booming announcement in Mandarin— the language sounded incomprehensible to your ears— but it didn’t matter, you could infer what was being said as Odessa climbed onto the stage.
Your cheers were drowned out by the loud, confident booing.
“Dess is gonna kick her ass,” Lucia said confidently, though she kept looking around at her surroundings as though she needed an escape route.
“It doesn’t matter if she wins, all she needs to do is free her,” you tried to say, but your words were deafened by the sudden swell of the crowd: the announcer was barking something in Mandarin again as the brainwashed Widow mounted the stage.
“She’s tiny,” Juan shouted in disbelief, squinting down at Odessa’s opponent. This was true: by the looks of it, the Widow didn’t look to be over five feet tall.
“She’s also a Widow,” Zara returned, sipping from her own lightbulb drink. “Y’know, she’s probably killed more than all four of us combined.”
The thought of Natasha came over you like a great, rippling wave, and you tried to shake yourself out of it for the millionth time. You couldn’t believe you’d hooked up with a Widow, the Black Widow at that, out of all the questionable characters you saw daily in Madripoor that you could’ve hooked up with. How close were you to getting killed that fateful night?
“Here we go,” you said, resigning yourself to the violence, and with the loud clanging of a bell, the fight started.
Almost at the same time, Castillo buzzed in your ear.
“I got four freed on the lower floor,” he exclaimed as the Widow leapt at Odessa, fists outstretched. “Get a move on.”
“Damn, already?” Juan asked, taking over for you. “I’ll start heading out now.”
Across from you, Zara nodded, indicating the same, and with a final sip of her flashing lightbulb drink, she abandoned her drink on the ledge and disappeared into the crowd.
Procrastinating, you stole a wary glance at the ring below you. By the looks of it, Odessa was defending herself well enough to hold her own, but she wasn’t landing any hits on the Widow: on the other hand, the LED ice cubes in your drink flashed red every time the Widow succeeded in hitting her.
“C’mon, Dess,” you muttered under your breath, absently raising your drink to take a sip. “Hurry up, it’s not about the fight…”
Seeing your anticipation, Lucia tugged on your sleeve. “We really gotta go. Twenty left, remember?”
“I got my eyes on two,” Juan said from the comms.
“Well, I see a big group over here,” Zara responded. “Luce, Y/N, you coming?”
“Give us a minute, we’re going,” you replied immediately.
Feeling sick, you downed your drink and turned away from the crowd. “Let’s go.”
The very moment you’d turned your back, there was a sudden, earsplitting explosion inside the ring, knocking the Widow off her feet as a mushroom cloud of scarlet burst through the air, and your mind scrambled.
Natasha hadn’t told you the blast would be so loud.
You processed everything a second too late: somehow you were on the ground, and you didn’t realize why everyone in the stands was fleeing until you registered the heavy thud of bullets flying through the air.
Lucia grabbed your hand and dragged you backward. “Shit! Move!”
As a confirmation of your worst fears, Zara buzzed in this time. “Go!”
All you knew was you were running so fast your body felt weightless: at one point Lucia tumbled into the crowd of people, scraping both of her knees, but you were dragging her up before your mind even recognized the motion, screaming in her mother tongue-- “Di mana Odessa? Di mana Odessa?” -- and trying not to succumb to the stampede of people yourself. You weren’t sure if it was the sirens or the strobe lights or your vision fading in and out of focus from the panic, all you knew was you were never leaving Madripoor again.
“Di sini! Di sini!” Lucia wailed, screaming and crying like Odessa had died back there-- God, you didn’t even want to think about that-- and together you flew up the stairs to a dimly-lit fire escape, and then Lucia was tossing you the keys to the Mercedes you’d rented, and you were choking back the bile in your mouth, and Zara was screaming obscenities into your ear piece--
You didn’t know how, but you’d ended up outside: the very first breath of fresh air hit your lungs like you’d been drowning, and quite simply, the relief was so intense your legs gave out from under you.
“Odessa mati karena kita!” Lucia was screaming to anyone who would listen. “Odessa mati karena kita!” 
“Dess is gone,” Juan said weakly, and Zara’s voice cut through the air like a whip. “Don’t fucking say that!”
“Ella es mi niña, es mucho más dura que eso,” you heard Castillo mumbling to himself from somewhere above you-- oh, God, if Spanish was heard, then the situation was bad. “Necesitamos reagruparnos y encontrarla de nuevo.”
“She’s dead, Cas,” Juan spat bitterly. “She got fucking trampled.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Zara snapped. “Taisiya, help Y/N up, we need to figure something out.”
Your mind was misting. Taisiya?
Somehow you found your voice as unfamiliar hands helped you up— it was a Widow they’d freed in the commotion, you guessed. “Did we get everyone?”
“No,” Juan snapped. “We only have a few, not even half of them. And that’s not even counting the ones I lost hold of in the explosion. Jesus fucking Christ, Odessa died for this?”
Zara exploded. “I thought I told you not to fucking say that!”
“What happened back there?” the girl who had helped you up asked— she spoke sharply, and had your mind been clearer, you definitely would have recognized the Russian influence in her accent. “Did you all know the competitor? What do you want from me?”
“Dess is one of us,” Zara said. “She came here to free you guys. We’re here to help, I promise.”
“I don’t believe the smoke would’ve killed her,” another girl put in hastily— almost the same accent, though her vowels stuck out in weird places. “It felt - cleansing. It feels like I can think clearly for the first time in forever and I can’t understand why.”
“That’s because you were under Dreykov’s control,” Zara started to say, but Juan interrupted her.
“There were bullets flying everywhere, you do realize that, right? People panicked. There was broken glass everywhere, it doesn’t surprise me that there was a stampede. I’m not saying we shouldn’t be upset, but Dess is gone.”
“She’s been through more than that and survived,” Castillo snapped. “Remember when that Sokovian arms deal went south two years ago? Four bullets to the shoulder and it hardly hindered her. All you’d think was that she’d slept weirdly.”
“Zara’s right, we need to figure out what to do next,” you tried to say, but the buzzing in your earpiece interrupted you.
Everyone fell silent: an awkward beat, and you pressed the earpiece firmly into your ear, almost afraid of what you’d hear on the other end. “Hello?”
“Hey, I got a crowd of Widows at the front entrance!” Odessa yelled back. “Where the fuck are you guys?”
It was an awkward drive.
“The girl’s name is Yelena, right?”
“And when we meet up with her, she’ll know what to do with the Widows, right?”
“As far as I know.”
A beat.
“Is she really Natasha’s sister?”
An even longer beat. No one in the car seemed to want to say anything.
“No clue.”
The motel Yelena Belova was staying in was dilapidated, to say the least: the one neon green sign advertising the business’s existence was flickering in and out of luminescence, frequently plunging the place into complete darkness, and the rest of the buildings on the street seemed to give it a wide berth. There was a stench of sour milk in the air that just kind of stayed, the parking lot was sparsely populated with rusting cars, and from one of the rooms’ windows, all you could see besides from darkness was the side of a boxy TV from the eighties, displaying what looked like a NASCAR race.
Just walking past that recording in the window made your heart ache. You missed street racing, you really did, but ever since J - Natasha, you struggled to experience that freeing feeling of your heart leaping into your throat as your foot rammed down on the gas pedal, not a care in the world about the road, or the wind, or your future.
“Room 13,” Juan mumbled nervously, double-checking his phone with the hand that wasn’t protectively wrapped in Odessa’s own. “This is it?”
“This is it,” Castillo confirmed, awkwardly looking around. The Widows they’d freed were a quiet bunch, and in the past few hours, you couldn’t help feeling like they were just cargo to be transported elsewhere.
“Do we just-?” Lucia tried to say, but you’d already raised your fist to the door and knocked.
“Come in,” a flat Russian voice responded.
Zara obliged: she twisted the knob of the door and pulled it towards her, revealing a shabby, dimly-lit, water-damaged room that smelled like dead mice. Yuck. Ever since your dad had died in that car chase and you were forced to be on the run alone, you could recognize that traumatic smell anywhere.
“You live like this?” you could hear a teenage Odessa asking in your mind, her voice filled with disdain. There was hardly enough room to breathe in the the very first Lowtown apartment you’d been able to afford to rent as it had been filled to the brim with trash for years.
Hoarders, your landlord had said. It’s not really in the budget to clean it up. Make do with what you have.
You exhaled sharply and blinked yourself back to the present.
When no one said anything, just stared at the blonde, wide-eyed woman on the bed, Yelena Belova waved her hand. “Hi.”
“These are the Widows,” you said awkwardly.
“I know,” she said, not even blinking: you were suddenly aware that she hadn’t looked at anyone else besides from you ever since you’d awkwardly shuffled into this cramped room. “My mama oversees a warehouse in West Sulawesi that the Widows should be able to go to. We’re not really sure how to get everyone back on their feet when there’s so many of them, you know?”
“I thought we were bringing them back to Madripoor,” Odessa inserted fiercely. “There was a stampede at the Golden Daggers club, I risked my life for these girls.”
Twelve of the Widows nodded nervously, including, you noticed, the tiny Widow Odessa had been fighting in the ring just an hour earlier. A thin trickle of blood had dried along the side of her face, and she had a black eye that was blooming a brilliant shade of purple.
“I think they’ll end up in Madripoor eventually,” Yelena replied, apparently not affected by this at all. Your eyes meandered to the phone in her hands and your breath hitched: she was watching the last Blackfield race, you could recognize that street and that red Corvette anywhere. God, how many times had that video been shared?
“You can work out all the complicated details with my mama, okay?” Yelena said when silence befell the room again. “Go on now, I need to talk with Y/N.”
Castillo and Lucia shared an anxious glance that you pretended not to see: you’d finally made eye contact with Yelena, and suddenly all you could see was vivid red hair, and delicate eyelids clenched closed, and pillowy pink lips parted in ecstasy, and pale white thighs parted over your face, revealing an up-close and personal display of a glistening, soaked mess of a cunt—
You inhaled sharply as you heard the door shut with a small SNAP: you hadn’t realized the others had left until you were alone in the room with Yelena.
“Be honest,” Yelena spat after a moment’s silence. “You’re fucking my sister.”
Your mouth fell open as your eyes went wide. “I - I’m-”
She grinned and raised an eyebrow, making you laugh nervously out of reflex. “Saying it in the present tense makes you think I’ve done it more than once.”
“мой Бог, she’s crazy about you,” Yelena replied. “Whenever someone starts talking about you or your races, she never shuts up about how you drove during that Blackfield race. And Natasha, you know, she’s sly, a woman of few words. She only speaks unless she’s being sardonic or threatening you.”
You blinked, straining your memory. “That’s - that’s not how I remember her.”
“That’s because you knew Jessica Warton, yes?” Yelena grinned. “Don’t lie. Natasha’s told me all about it.”
A kind of grief was seeping through your chest, and it pulsed, making it hard to breathe.
“She’s all I’ve been thinking about, these past few months. She’s all I think about when I try to race,” you sit out quietly.
There was a moment of silence: Yelena sighed heavily, turned off her phone, and rose from the bed.
“How would you react if I told you she was here in Macau?” she asked finally. “I have her address.”
In a blink, you’d opened your mouth and closed it again: you weren’t totally sure you’d heard her right.
But— but it couldn’t be. When you’d gotten the text that she wanted the Guild to come to China, she’d been halfway across the world, in Belgium. There was no way she’d make it over here in that time— unless—
You spluttered, miraculously finding words.
“But - but she can’t-”
“Y/N, I think you and I both know that the only person who tells Natasha Romanoff what she can or can’t do is Natasha Romanoff,” Yelena replied seriously. “Do you want to know the way I see it?”
You couldn’t breathe. “I - I - what-”
“I think you should get the goddamn address, go over there, tear off those clothes, and get that sweet catharsis you both have clearly been dreaming about for months, and then Natasha will be happy and you’ll be able to kick Queenie Blackfield’s ass in street racing again,” she said plainly. “I’m sick of her complaining to me, and I want more racing videos. How does that sound?”
Your mind was spiralling again. The answer was so clear, so simple in your mind, but you couldn’t help feeling so terrified because you knew that if you said hello to Natasha again, you’d also have to say another goodbye, and— after after how badly it hurt you the first time, could you even survive it?
In the dizzying silence, you couldn’t get her name out of your head.
Natasha. Natasha. Natasha.
“I’m never going to understand sexual attraction, you know,” Yelena said when you wouldn’t say anything. “It all seems so complicated and sweaty and gross. You’re better off like me, not having to worry about all that mess. Riding solo. Life’s simpler than way.”
You were hardly listening now, but you snapped, “Nothing’s simple when it comes to Natasha.”
And somehow, the true answer came all at once, in a rush of emotion: you needed this. Bad.
No matter how badly it would hurt in the aftermath.
You met Yelena’s eyes and your gaze hardened. “Give me the address.”
This was crazy.
This was crazy.
Holy God, this was fucking crazy.
But it would be worth it. Right?
You’d lied to the rest of the Guild and said that Yelena needed you to pick something up for her (a weak lie, you knew, but it served its purpose— as far as the rest of the Guild knew, you would only be MIA for a few hours) and now you were speeding down the freeway, pushing 140 kilometres per hour, clutching the steering wheel like your life depended on it. Your mind still felt so clouded, and you didn’t know how you were even going to react when you saw Natasha again.
You didn’t know how she was going to react when she saw you again.
The knife strapped to your belt was comforting, bringing you back to yourself. You were a member of the Thieves Guild, and you could defend yourself if necessary.
Yeah. Yeah.
This was supposed to be a good thing. Not a terrifying one.
It didn’t surprise you that Natasha was renting a room in the middle of nowhere.
At least it felt more sanitary than Yelena’s hideout: the cramped hallways smelled strongly of bleach and other cleaning chemicals as you moved swiftly forward, each of your steps calm and calculated, very much in the mindset of get what you want and get out.
You couldn’t remember how your feet had carried you there, but suddenly you were standing outside of the big white door at the end of the hallway, holding your breath. There had been enough buildup, you could only think of knocking on this door and asking for consent before pressing your lips to Natasha’s.
What happened next felt like slow motion and all at once: you curled your palm into a fist and raised your hand, then leaned forward and knocked.
Nothing happened.
You waited for five seconds, the most still five seconds of your life, then knocked again.
Still, nothing happened.
You weren’t surprised, but still, you felt that weird snapping feeling deep in your chest again. It was sharp, and it almost felt hard to breathe.
Resting your forehead against the door, you closed your eyes and tried to fight the warmth rising behind your eyelids.
“It’s - it’s me,” you whispered blindly to the door. “It’s me. It’s Y/N. I can’t stop thinking about you, and I’m sorry. For everything. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”
What were you even apologizing for? This was stupid. You needed to go back to the hotel room; the others would be wondering where you’d gone by now.
There was silence. A buzzing, painful silence that seemed to last forever while blood burned in your veins. You didn’t know how long you stood outside of that door for.
The door opened, and suddenly you were staring at a wide-eyed Natasha Romanoff.
To your horror, your mind went completely blank. “I - I-”
Your ears were ringing even before her mouth was crushed to yours, and heat was spreading— no, exploding— across your inner thighs as you shoved the door closed with your elbow and got your hands tangled in her hair, blindly pushing her backwards into the centre of the room, languid and needy and out of your mind with want.
“You shouldn’t have come back,” Natasha mumbled as she broke away, a mere centimetre away from your lips, and you pulled her face closer in response.
“I missed this fucking pussy,” you whispered back, almost panting into her mouth now as your pounding heart took in every sweet, delightful inch of her. “Miss how fucking soaked I get.”
There was a beat: you drew back as Natasha crossed her arms and pulled off her shirt— holy fuck, she wasn’t wearing a bra and this was the first time you’d seen her tits in full, gleaming golden light— and before you knew it your lips were crushed together again as you pushed her down onto the bed, lightly squeezing and feeling out her body with your hands.
“Missed you, Jess,” you mumbled as you readjusted your body, pressing a kiss to her toned stomach. She smelled differently than she had the last time, like strawberries and deodorant and fabric softener, and you weren’t even sure why you were taking note of this, all you knew was you needed to remember— remember all of her before she’d inevitably slip away again.
“That’s not my name,” Natasha laughed as she absently threaded a hand through your hair, squeezing tight and silently reminding you to get a move on.
“Fuck,” you breathed, resisting the urge to brokenly jut your hips into the mattress as you popped the button on her jeans and eased her pants down her hips, exposing soft and shiny skin that positively gleamed in the lamplight. The more you saw of her, the more you saw that she was nothing short of perfect— God, why did you ever let her go?
The first taste of her slick felt like the first hit of a drug you hadn’t been on in forever, and you pressed your tongue into her taste, high as hell, swirling around her spasming entrance until you finally extracted a broken moan from her lips.
And oh, did it ever feel like fucking ecstasy.
“I’m not leaving you,” you muttered drunkenly as you pressed one, two, three kisses on her swollen clit, “Never again. Never. Missed you too much.”
“One time, Y/N,” Natasha laughed up at the ceiling. “We fuck one time and you’re already so needy for me?”
“Hard not to be,” you answered, grinning because she didn’t know the half of it and ducking down between her legs to suck on her clit with your tongue. You were rewarded with another choked moan as Natasha’s legs suddenly wrapped around your shoulders.
“Can’t - fuck - gonna come-”
“Come for me,” you mumbled into her drenched mess of a cunt, and that did it.
She came in a broken spurt with her throbbing entrance pressed against your tongue, and you relished in the taste, in the fact that this was what you wanted, and you finally had her once again, even for the briefest moment in time.
“Get up,” Natasha mumbled breathlessly, “Get up - need to feel you-”
You obliged, scrambling to her lips, and in a moment of desperate fumbling you were below her again— still fully clothed even though she was naked.
“Get rid of this,” she muttered under your breath, wriggling you out of your jacket, “Out of this, too-”
You choked out a laugh as she yanked your hoodie over your head, and you automatically raised your arms to help her.
And then you were kissing again, more languidly and desperate than the first time, and it suddenly hit that you were on the brink of orgasm already—
Somehow your shirt was gone, tossed elsewhere and forgotten, and Natasha’s lips were all over your neck, your shoulders, your collarbones, fast and good but still not nearly fulfilling as it should’ve been.
“Right there,” you choked out as she dug her thumbs into the waistband of your pants and tugged downward, exposing your bare cunt in a rush of cool air. You’d been smart enough to leave your panties in the car.
“Here?” Natasha repeated almost innocently, lowering herself downward to press a kiss to your hip. Not even close to where you needed her to be, and you suspected she knew.
“No,” you cried, helpless to your own heat as Natasha’s tongue threatened to take you over the edge, “Right - fuckohfuck, right there-”
You came fast with a jolt, grabbing a handful of cheap bedsheets and squeezing until they popped off the corner of the mattress: you hardly cared, you were spasming around Natasha’s tongue, the waves of pleasure pooling from your cunt knocking you down and taking you by surprise.
You wanted it to drown you.
“There,” you moaned dumbly as her tongue kept going, sweating and panting, the ends of your hair damp and surely pressed to your flushed forehead as you came down from the first high. You weren’t sure what was happening in the material world, you only knew that your body didn’t feel yours anymore— your soul was someplace else.
“Fuck!” you cried as it quickly became apparent that Natasha wasn’t stopping, but before you could scream out, there was a hand wrapped around your throat in seconds.
You nodded blindly, already falling back into the rhythm. Why had you ever told you were good at keeping quiet? “Yes.”
“Dumb little slut,” Natasha spat as she bent down to lick a stripe up your cunt again. She had full control now, and she knew it. “This is all you’re good for.”
You had a flash of flying down the streets of Madripoor, well ahead of any opponent that dared to take you on, and you almost opened your mouth to argue, but your head was blurring, you were nodding.
“Yes,” you whispered.
“You’re coming again,” she breathed, and unsurprisingly, you gave her what she wanted.
Your cunt clenched as your body went weightless with pure, unadulterated bliss, and she worked you through it, slipping two fingers inside you and pushing until all that was left of your orgasm was a faint sensation that buzzed pleasantly in your veins, almost like the dizzying need for a drink.
When Natasha spoke, her voice echoed, seemingly underwater, and it bounced around the depths of your brain, far away and not making sense.
“I do mean it when I say you shouldn’t’ve come back, you know.”
“I’ve never felt anyone like you,” you replied weakly, and your voice sounded far away and underwater too.
“If you want to come again, you have to swear that you’re never going to seek me out again,” she said from above you, and you shook your head rapidly, not really comprehending what she was saying.
“You’re better off this way. Better. Do you understand me?”
“Fuck me,” you whined, clutching the sheets again.
“Shut up,” she snarled, pushing her body towards yours once more.
And in the end, it didn’t matter that Natasha had told you not to come back: you knew the cold, hard truth as soon as you’d stepped back into the rental car. You were fucked, completely fucked, and as long as you were still breathing on this planet, hovering somewhere between life and death, you’d come back for Natasha, or maybe — just maybe — she’d come back for you, again and again.
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lycheepocketwitch · 2 days ago
goodbye forever (until next time) || let's play one shot
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pairings: natasha romanoff x fem!reader
summary: you should've known that your relationship with natasha wouldn't last.
genre: angst, high school au, college au
warnings: cussing, relationship break up
word count: 3.1k
a/n: here's the backstory to newbie and natasha's relationship while you're waiting for the actual story/game:)
au masterlist | main masterlist | also on ao3 | taglist | tagged as au: let’s play
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Natasha Romanoff was the type of person people didn’t know whether they wanted to be or be with.
Well, most people people at least. You, on the other, very much knew which one you’d rather be. Ever since she helped pick up your cupcake notebook after you dropped it in the hallway at school, you were smitten. You would daydream about her forest green, her long red locks, her raspy voice that mumbled a, “here you go,” as she handed you your notebook. Really, it was a schoolgirl crush, and you weren’t above admitting that.
Regardless, she was completely unattainable. She’d never dated anyone for longer than 3 months and even then, there was a lineup of people who wanted a chance to date the Natasha Romanoff. She was just out of reach.
There was also the fact that she was 3 years older than you and there was no way she would go for a freshman. So, you just admired her from afar. Your friends would tease you about it endlessly.
“Dude, just talk to her. She won’t bite,” Darcy urged.
“And say what?”
“That you liked the show? That you think she’s a good dancer? Just sat anything.”
You moved to the side to let some people pass by to exit the school. You had convinced Darcy to go to the annual dance show the school’s dance troupe held, obviously because Natasha was performing. On top of 2 group numbers, Natasha also had a solo and she had you mesmerized. She moved so gracefully across the stage, yet all her movements held so much power. You couldn’t comprehend how she had that much control over her body. It was as if her body was a puppet and she was controlling each part from the outside.
You didn’t know how to tell her that though. You tried, but the moment you were in front of her, your heart started beating so fast, you thought it would leap out of chest. The only thing you managed to tell her was, “Good job.” Then, you ran away. Literally. You dragged Darcy away from the area and rushed back to your place.
Safe to say, you never spoke to Natasha again. Not that it was a hard thing to do. She was graduating in less than a month and you were moving to Ohio at the end of the school year. Your mother had gotten a new job and your whole family was going to uproot your lives. You were sad, mostly because you wouldn’t get to see your friends anymore, especially your childhood friend, Darcy, but you promised you’d keep in touch.
For the most part, you did.
There were phone calls and eventually video calls too, but you naturally fell out with some of your friends. Amazingly, your friendship with Darcy didn’t change much. when you moved back to New York for college, it was as if nothing changed. You started sharing a dorm together.
“This is either going to end with us plotting the other’s death or with going to each other’s weddings,” Darcy said with a chuckle as you helped her bring the last of her boxes into your dorm room.
Thankfully, it didn’t seem like you were going to end hating each other.
It was the morning of the last day of syllabus week and you woke up earlier to grab some pastries and coffee for both you and Darcy. “God,” Darcy moaned as she took a bite of her danish.
“That good?” you asked, amused by the sight of your friend barely awake as she chewed on her pastry.
“Not as good as the ones you used to make, but close enough. What class do you have today?”
“Just my Soviet history elective.”
You weren’t really interested in that course and you certainly weren’t fond of the fact that it was an 8AM course, but it fit your schedule and you heard the professor was an easer grader. Needless to say, you weren’t exactly looking forward to that class. All that changed once you stepped took your seat inside the lecture hall.
After chatting a bit with Darcy, you hadn’t realized that you were running a little late. So, you jogged your way across campus to get there on time. You tried to control your breathing, not wanting to appear as if you’d just ran a marathon even though your burning lungs definitely made you feel like you had. (Maybe you needed to work out to get back in shape.) You didn’t even notice the TA talking with the professor. It was only when you took out your laptop and got ready to type your notes that you allowed your eyes to roam around the room. That was when your eyes found her.
Flaming red hair, enchanting green eyes, plump pink lips.
Of course, Natasha Romanoff had to be your TA.
She introduced herself to the class and at first glance, she didn’t seem all that different. She still had the same air of confidence she had in high school, not to be mistaken with arrogance. Her cool exterior was still as intimidating as ever, but it also made you want her to like you.
Though, this Natasha was definitely not the same as the one you used to know (well, know of). She was more mature and put together. Not that she didn’t seem like she didn’t have her shit together; if there was someone who had their shit together in high school, it was Natasha. But she was also a bit more carefree back then. You couldn’t imagine the woman talking in front of you would dye her hair bright blue on a whim the same way she did back for about 2 months in high school.
“I won’t be sitting in on most lectures, but I’ll be the one holding tutorials every week. So, I look forward to getting to know you all a bit better throughout the semester,” she said as she gave the crowd a small smile until her eyes reached you. She faltered and for a moment, your heart skipped a beat at the thought that she somehow remembered you. But what was there to remember anyways? Two clumsy encounters? Yeah, you’d rather her forget that.
The rest of the lecture went by and nothing interesting happened except Natasha who occasionally caught your eye. A part of you, the wishfully thinking one, thought maybe she thought you were cute. Then, the other part of you, the self-conscious one, thought maybe you had a croissant crumb on your face from this morning and missed it.
When you went back to your dorm, you gladly found with a crumb-less face staring back at you in the mirror. You also found a curious Darcy observing you from her bed, laptop resting on her lap.
“You won’t believe who my TA is,” you told her as soon as you confirmed there was nothing on your face.
You told her about Natasha, how she kept looking at you, but you tried to brush it off as nothing special. It couldn’t be anything special. There was no reason for it to be because she was your TA and nothing else.
And yet, when it was time for her first tutorial, you found her staring at you often again. At first, you thought that maybe you were just hallucinating or blowing this out of proportion. Then, the second tutorial rolled around and the same thing happened. Then, the third time it happened, you couldn’t shake it off anymore. One time was a fluke, twice was a coincidence, but three times? This was a pattern, but you didn’t understand why. As if she heard your question, Natasha asked you to stay a bit after her fourth tutorial.
“Relax, you’re not in trouble,” she said as soon as the last student left.
“Phew, I thought you were gonna tell me I botched the last assignment,” you admitted, somewhat jokingly. You’d submitted the assignment 3 minutes before the deadline and you weren’t expecting an excellent grade. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Right, so, you probably noticed I’ve been… staring at you a lot,” Natasha said and cringed at her wording. “I don’t mean to be creepy, but I’m sure I’m coming off that way, so I wanted to apologize for that.”
“You don’t come off that way,” you reassured her with a chuckle, and you couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself for not stumbling over your words despite how nervous you were feeling.
“This is gonna sound crazy, but I feel like I’ve seen you before. You seem so… familiar.”
You winced, preparing yourself to reveal that she was indeed not losing her mind and that you had in fact met before. “We, uh, went to the same high school, I believe.”
Natasha frowned as she tried to place your face and then her eyes grew wide. “You’re the girl with the cupcake notebook,” she gasped.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t remember that,” you admitted with a grimace.
“Kinda hard to forget such a bright notebook compared to all the plain ones everyone else had.”
You were always somewhat self-conscious about that. It made you feel like you weren’t mature enough for your age. At the same time though, so what? You liked colourful things. Also, you were still 14 at the time. You were still a child, technically speaking.
“I thought it was cute,” Natasha added quietly. You dared look back up and found nothing but sincerity in those green eyes.
From that day forward, you started getting closer to Natasha. You thought the intense staring would stop now that her mind was put at ease, but somehow, it persisted. It wasn’t exactly the same as before though. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly, but the way she watched you felt different.
“She’s into you,” Darcy stated as if it was the most obvious thing ever.
“She’s not,” you affirmed, grabbing the blanket to put over you and Darcy. You had just finished midterms last week and you and Darcy had decided to treat yourselves to a cozy Friday night in your dorm room. You had gotten way too much takeout and snacks for your movie night, but whatever. You deserved it after working so hard these past few weeks.
“I’m telling you, she is. Why wouldn’t she? You’re hot.”
Your cheeks instantly warmed up at the compliment. Darcy never shied away from telling you exactly what she thought, but you still weren’t used to her comments when they were about you.
“Well, she’s my TA,” you tried to reason, but Darcy was having none of it.
“Exactly! She’s just your TA. She’s not your prof. If you’re really worried about it, I say just go for it after the semester ends.”
You threw your pillow at Darcy and just laughed. Needless to say, you didn’t follow her advice. All you did was behave normally around Natasha. Well, you had also purposefully gone to office hours to ask Natasha questions even though you didn’t really have any just so you got to see her more. Whether Natasha caught onto that or not, she never mentioned it. In fact, she even seemed to rejoice in your presence. Every time you showed up, it was as if her smile grew wider, more genuine, which differed from the one she gave your classmates.
“You know, I’m kinda gonna miss not dedicating my Tuesday afternoons to your office hours,” you said, partly joking as you packed your things up to leave. It was the last week of the semester and less than a month from now, you would be done with this course and you would no longer have a reason to spend time with Natasha.
“Tuesdays can still be our day,” Natasha suggested, although her voice carried none of the joking tone yours did. A determined look washed over her features that had your heart racing.
“What are you implying here?” you asked, but you already knew where she was going with this. Or rather you were hoping your intuition was right.
“I’m still your TA for a few more weeks, but after that… well, I don’t see why we couldn’t continue seeing each other. Preferably outside of this office and back at my place?”
“I’d like that,” you said, shyly grinning as you put the strap of your tote bag over your shoulder.
And you indeed got to see her more. You spent so much time at her apartment you had two drawers at her place. Your things were also scattered all around her home. You practically lived there.
You had dated throughout high school, but no one ever made you feel the way Natasha did and none of your relationships had ever been this serious. In all honesty, you were surprised the relationship lasted so long. Not to be a pessimist, but you were still wondering if this was some sick joke that she was pulling for the first few weeks you started dating. You knew Natasha enough though and she wasn’t that cruel.
Or so you thought.
It was the first week of summer vacation. Darcy had left just a few days ago for her family’s house after you told her it was okay since Natasha would come pick you up soon. You were 22 and most of your classmates from your cohort had graduated this year, but you were taking an extra year, mostly because you weren’t sure what you wanted to do with your life. You never even wanted to go to college. If it weren’t for your parents, you would’ve gone to culinary school so you could open your own little bakery. Your parents didn’t approve, so now you were pursuing a communications degree for who knows why. Apparently, that was precisely what didn’t work for Natasha.
“What do you mean?” you asked, feeling a lump forming in your throat.
“We’re just going in 2 different paths. You’re still 22 and I’m turning 25 soon—“
“Don’t you dare use age as an excuse.”
“I’m not. I’m just saying that we’re living completely different lives,” Natasha sighed, running one hand through her short red curls. She looked good with shorter hair, you had to admit. It was actually the first thing you were going to mention when she finally got to your dorm, but before you finished greeting her, she told you you two needed to talk. She didn’t even sit down and started talking about how you two should break up.
“You always told me it was okay that I took longer to finish college,” you muttered, refusing to meet her eye.
“It is. There’s nothing wrong with that,” she reiterated, placing one hand one your shoulder, “I want you to take your time and go into a field you enjoy. It’s just that now, I’m really starting my career while you’re still studying. I don’t have the same free time I used to. I can’t just drop by your dorm whenever you ask me to or stay over because you want cuddles.”
“You’re making it sound like I’m a burden,” you accused, unable to hide the bitterness in your voice.
“It’s not that,” she groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Then, what is it? Because I don’t get where this is coming from.”
You really didn’t. You thought Natasha was coming over to help you pack the last of your things and bring them over to her new apartment. After all, you had spent the last few weeks talking about how you’d be spending the whole summer together. The last thing you expected was for her to come over to dump you.
“I just…” For the first time since you’d met Natasha, she seemed to be at lost for words. The frown on her face hadn’t left since she stepped foot inside your dorm room. It was as if it was permanently plastered there as she mulled over how she wanted to phrase what she was about to say next. “I don’t have time anymore.”
Decidedly, that was not her best moment, but the words were already put out there and there were no takebacks. “Wow,” you said, letting out an airy laugh, although there was nothing funny about the situation.
“I’m sor–”
“Tell me, did this relationship ever mean anything to you or was I just some sort of chore to you this whole time?”
“You’re not a chore,” Natasha insisted.
“Well, you sure aren’t convincing me otherwise with all the beautiful words you’re sharing with me!” you said, exasperated by this conversation. “You know what, Natasha? Leave.”
“No, fuck you,” you scowled, “you don’t get to break my heart and then try to soothe me as if you did nothing wrong. You want to break up because I’m ‘not worth your time’ anymore? Fine, whatever, I hope you have fun at your fancy marketing job and fall in love with a hotshot businesswoman, you know someone totally different from me.”
“I’m truly sorry. I swear I never meant to hurt you,” she said with her head hung low.
“Just leave, Natasha.”
This time, the older woman followed your request and headed towards the door. You turned away from her, not allowing yourself to watch her leave because if you did, it would make things a thousand times worse. You just curled into your bed, suitcase completely forgotten on the floor, and kept your tears at bay until you were sure Natasha was gone. If you had spared a glance her way, you would’ve seen how this wasn’t easy on Natasha, how her eyes were as teary as yours, how she lingered by the door, debating on taking everything back and run over to apologize and hold you. But the rational side of her wouldn’t let her.
She had a 5-year-plan, and if she wanted to to advance in her career at the speed she wanted to, then a relationship was out of the question; it would just serve as a distraction that would slow her down. So, she whispered, “I’m so sorry,” one last time before shutting the door behind her. Hearing the soft click of the door confirmed Natasha’s departure and broke your heart even more.
Natasha was gone.
You and Natasha may have changed in a million different ways over the last few years you had known each other, but there was one thing that remained the same. You would probably never stop wanting her, but Natasha Romanoff was always just out of reach.
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nsfwsebbie · 29 days ago
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warnings. | smut, Mommy kink, strap-on use, riding, size kink (nat is 6’0, you’re shorter than her), tit play/sucking, dirty talk, praise, degradation, humiliation, face sitting (nat sits on your face), mentions of oral (f, past), mention of scissoring, marking, the daughter was adopted, and age gap (nat is late thirties/40). 18+ MINORS DNI!
pairing. | Best Friend’s Mom!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader.
author’s note. | i haven’t written for nat in so long!! here’s a lovely little concept! don’t forget to enjoy and reblog! @nsfwlibrary my taglist. MINORS DNI!! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!
You can swear the echo of the slam from the door is still there. Or maybe it’s the lingering anger from your best companion, who had stormed off to sort some situation out with her boyfriend.
Like a good friend, you offered to go with her. She refused, determined to solve it on her own.
Like a bad friend, you’re moaning her mother’s name like a bitch in heat.
“Good girl, such a good girl. You’re fucking yourself on Mommy’s cock so good, petal,” she coos, hands gripping your hips, and she bounces you on the attached dildo. It hits the deepest parts inside of you, letting you see stars when it nudges against your sweet spot.
“Feels so good, Mommy,” you whimper out, your drool staining her soft skin. She smells of expensive perfume, sensual and mature. Practically, Mrs. Romanoff reeks of dominance and sex. Maybe, if you take an even larger drag, you’ll catch a hint of a potent cocktail laced in her mouth.
“I know, petal, just like how you were makin’ Mommy feel before, right?” she asks, and her question brings back memories of just a few minutes again.
When the door slammed shut, you crawled underneath the dining table and parted Natasha’s legs. She smirked down at you and pushed your face towards her pussy, demanding you to eat her out until she’s done with using your face. You still remember humping the air in desperation when you brought her to a third orgasm.
Pleasing Mrs. Romanoff turns you on so much.
“Uh-huh. Wanna do it again, please. I wanna make Mommy feel good!” you plead before latching your mouth onto one of her pink nipples. Before she can even chuckle, she’s letting out a soft moan at the feeling of your skilled tongue. You swirl your wet muscle around her hardening nub, letting your teeth graze it slightly.
Your dominant hand doesn't let her other tit be neglected, and so it traverses up and starts to pinch her nipple. Though, it’s hard to multitask when you’re already so overwhelmed. Desperate to feel some sort of release, you settle for grinding down on Natasha’s strap while alternating between each breast.
You leave a sheen of spit on each bosom, and the gone look in your eyes has Natasha getting wetter. The gyrations of your hips bring friction to her sensitive pussy, making her moan loudly. Though, a smile forces itself onto her face when you halt both of your movements, unsure which you should continue with.
“Poor thing. You don’t even know if you want to get fucked or fuck Mommy. Just let me do all the thinking, petal. Let Mommy stretch this pussy out,” she coos before lifting your lower half up. Natasha’s feet dig into the cushions of the soft couch, and she begins to thrust upwards.
You let out a pornographic moan and push your face into the crook of her neck. “Mommy!” you cry out, feeling her stroke your wet walls and brutalise your g-spot. Like an impending doom, bliss grows inside your stomach. Your clit rubs against one of the belts on the strap, adding to your pleasure.
Almost immediately, you come undone around the plastic cock inside of you. Your slick coats Natasha’s toy, and it colours the pink rubber with a sort of creaminess. Your pussy constricts around her strap, and you let out a loud cry. She fucks you to the aftershocks of your orgasm, admiring how your eyes roll back into your head.
“Good girl, so good for me. You’re so pretty when you come, petal,” she tells you, and you struggle to thank her for her kind words. “My perfect little slut,” she continues, and a faint smile finds itself on your face.
“Y– Your turn,” you mumble through your pants and whimpers. Natasha raises an eyebrow, punctuating your sentence with a sharp thrust. You can feel yourself nearing the state of overstimulation, and you start to shake your head. “Wan’ you to sit on my face, Mommy. L– Like that one time, remember?” you tell her, and she nods her head.
You were lying down on the patio’s chaise lounge in nothing but a skimpy bikini that could be torn off your body in a gentle tug. Natasha watched you for a while before walking over to your spot and pressing soft kisses on your chest.
“Be a good girl and let Mommy use you,” she simply told you, and you laid down flat on the surface, urging her to straddle your head.
Slowly, Natasha pulls out of your sopping pussy and slaps the tip against your folds, revelling in the way you whimper. She pushes you off her lap and lays you down on the couch before swiftly removing her strap. She places it on the sofa, and you can already predict that she’ll have to cover that spot with a throw pillow until she can clean the stain.
Your legs involuntarily part, still feeling that ache she’ll have to quell afterwards. But for now, it’s her turn.
You grab her thighs as leverage, and Natasha lowers herself down on your mouth, and you start to lap at her soaking and sensitive cunt. Her taste fills your buds (but it never really left), and you suck on her clit until she starts grinding down on your tongue.
Natasha tosses her head back and moans, uttering praises of how good you are for her. She reaches a hand behind her and quickly finds your clit before rubbing tight circles on it. Your moans send vibrations throughout her body, making her curse from the extra stimulation.
“Shit, your mouth feels so good, petal. I could stay here forever,” she pants, tits shaking slightly with each rapid rise and fall of her chest. You hum against her pussy, torturing her clit with your wet muscle. “Are you gonna make Mommy come before you, petal?” she questions, moving her fingers faster.
A burning sensation fills you up, even though you had wanted her to finish first. You start nodding your head, and the movement has her crying out. “Come, petal. Come for mommy, and then I’ll soak your face,” she urges, and you thrust your tongue inside her before letting out a mewl as you come undone.
Your legs thrash, but you continue to eat Natasha out, and you can tell by her chants that she’s close. You continue your noises, desperate to have her juices coat the lower portion face. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—yes!” she wails, and her hips still as her pussy spasms.
You drink everything she has to offer up, savouring her sweet nectar. Your mouth coaxes Natasha through her orgasm before she suddenly moves down your body with a smirk on her face. Your lips glisten with her arousal, and the sight has her smiling.
“We have all night, petal. And Mommy wants to rub her cunt against your cute little pussy.”
2K notes · View notes
nat-maximoff · 19 days ago
y/n: what do you think nat?
nat: think of what?
wanda: y/n dont.
y/n: wands thinks i should stop introducing her as “wanda maximommy” and “the scarlet milf”
wanda: *pinches y/n*
y/n: OW
nat: maximommy. clever.
2K notes · View notes
thatonebrazilian · 5 months ago
Kate: You know, Natasha gives Y/N flowers every day, I wish you'd do that too.
Yelena: Okay.
Yelena: *gives Y/N flowers*
Y/N: ???
Yelena: I don't know, I'm confused as well.
3K notes · View notes
ayameric · 10 days ago
Natasha: Sweetheart, why are you throwing your meds in the trash?
Y/N: Mental Health Awareness month.
Natasha: ...
Y/N: And y’all about to be VERY aware
1K notes · View notes
gayerthanevertbh · an hour ago
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟗.
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— pairings: best friend’s mom!natasha x fem!reader
— summary: You know it was beautifully wrong when your best friend’s mother kissed your parched mouth. What’s even worse is that she’s a married woman and you’re just her secret affair.
— warnings: heavy angst(?) , smut but i think it’s mild , language , slight dirty talking , fingering (both receiving at some point) , 18+!
author’s note: i very much hate this part, i feel like there was a lot of lacked words into it. let me know if it does! other than that, enjoy. oh and also, i might add 5 more parts into this story or maybe make a part 2.
let me know your thoughts about this part, thank you! <3
word count: 6.2k (i know i promised 10k but i’m scared of my own writing for some reason? idk lol)
series masterlist || main masterlist || taglist for this series
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“That’ll be 11 dollars.”
Natasha grumbled under her breath and rooted her hand down in her pockets, pulling out a crumbled 10-dollar bill and placing it on the counter, giving the woman a kind smile yet not in a fond way. “Yeah, thanks.”
She grabbed a pack of cigarettes and made her way out of the gas station, placing her hands inside her jacket and getting inside the car immediately. It was around somewhat 6’oclock in the morning and Natasha decided to not stay home for a while. Well, for maybe 10 hours or more. Ever since Y/N left the house, Lucy asked her mother to leave as well. Of course, she understood that. After all, it was her fault. Everything was, not Y/N’s. It never was.
Although knowing how much the woman knows about the girl is that she would take the blame for everything, no matter what circumstances might occur. That’s what makes Natasha fall in love with her deeply; is that Y/N will forever be this person who would take the risk and say it was worth it. She ponders that her relationship with Y/N was definitely worth it, but very damaging to the people that they love.
There was a quiet song playing on the radio while a flare cigarette that was between Natasha’s lips. She stared at the driveway where she could see two to four cars passing by once in a while. This is a lonely fucking town. The redhead thought to herself and puffed out a cloud of smoke that was inside of her mouth.
Her phone suddenly buzzes on the car seat and she grabs it and sees Lucy on the screen. She gulped and picked up the phone, biting her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. This was scaring her considering that there’s a chance that her own daughter hates her to the guts.
“Hello?” the redhead whispers, shutting her eyes tightly when she realizes how stupid she sounds on the phone.
She hears a pause, then Lucy speaks through the phone quietly:
“I want us to talk,” Natasha sighs through her mouth quietly, she was relieved – somehow. Maybe Lucy is going to try to understand her situation with Y/N? She hoped it was just a theory.
“I,” she breathes through the speaker and turned on the engine of her car. “Of course, Luce. When?”
“I haven’t slept for the whole night so please come by now.”
“I’m on my way, sweetheart.”
Natasha arrived shortly back at her house and walked through the entryway to see Lucy sitting on the couch with a mug between her hands, making her feel warm. Her daughter looked up but didn’t smile or glare, more like a deadpan stare. Natasha walked to her daughter and sat across from her since it wasn’t appropriate to be close to her after everything had happened.
Her face changed into confusion, her eyes scrunched for a second then chuckled quietly, that Natasha barely heard her. Lucy takes a sip and puts it back on the table, sighing through her nose.
“I want to know everything,” Lucy begins, cutting to the chase with her arms crossed to prevent herself from hugging her mother. “I want to know from the start until now. I want to know what made you fall… I don’t know, in love with her. Tell me everything and I’ll move out.”
Natasha was taken back when she said something with I’ll move out and quickly she responded: “Luce, let’s not be irrational about this–”
“I don’t think I am,” she says while shaking her head. Natasha just nods and sits back, her hands holding together for support. “I just want to know why the fuck are you so in love with my best friend that it broke our family?”
“She’s not the reason why our family is broken.”
“Oh yeah? So what is the reason? What is your genius idea?”
The thing about Lucy is that she’s bold and affectionate when it’s needed. She’s very opinionated – just like Natasha, but can be easily broken once something bad happens to her. She would do everything she could just to get in her way or if not, then that wouldn’t be her problem anymore. And when knowing the fact that her mother and her best friend slept together for years, at least she has some right to know.
“Lucy,” Natasha responded with a trembling voice while her left foot was tapping against the floor with agitation. “If I tell you, will you understand?”
Lucy doesn’t know if she will. Maybe, someday but – mostly not now. She still has this strong anger toward Natasha and Y/N and wishes that she has the heart to forgive them but that’s very much out of the window. How could she forgive them after thinking that it ruined her family? Her relationship with Y/N? Ridiculous, she thinks awfully.
“I don’t know.”
“You have to try at least, darling.”
“I’d appreciate it if you don’t call me that.” she says with a flat tone. Natasha nods, understanding her request.
She takes a long deep breath and lets it out with her mouth, eyeing Lucy then back to the mug that the bottom of it was steaming against the table glass. It’s now or never, tell her. Let her heal.
“I met her when you brought her to our house after your graduation,” Natasha whispers as she tries her best not to smile at the memory. “Your mother and I were fighting before the party started. We didn’t want to tell you because it was your night, everyone’s night. So give it a few hours later I saw her going to the bathroom and that’s where I met her. It was a friendly greeting at first, you know… friendly looks and all that.”
“But I started to have this… crush on her when we took Y/N to Italy for the first time. I remember –”
“Cut out the heavy details, please.” Lucy pleaded while looking at her even though her mother wasn’t looking back. Of course, she wouldn’t.
Natasha nodded slowly and continued with a lower octave in her voice: “The affair happened when she was going to see this guy that you recommended to her. I envied the boy and most of all I envied myself. I kept wondering how on earth am I having these strange feelings over a girl that probably doesn’t mean anything to me?”
“I was wrong. She means so much to me. Ever since I laid my eyes on those beautiful eyes, I knew it was over for me. She’s gentle, caring, and sensitive to people’s feelings–Even though she doesn’t act like it. Y/N is beautiful, not just being attractive but–God, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say anymore.”
Lucy watched her carefully and intently. She sees that Natasha’s eyes move whenever she explains why she loves Y/N and how the woman would smile whenever her best friend was in the conversation. It occurred to her that Natasha wasn’t lying with the story; it was merely the truth. How she says Y/N’s name so beautifully from the tip of her mouth makes her think that their affair long ago – or even now – wasn’t just some sex kind of thing.
Natasha loves Y/N as much as Y/N loves Natasha. It’s like they were meant to fulfill each other’s needs. And for Lucy – she couldn't respond to that thought.
“Y/N is my happiness,” Natasha stated, looking up with tears filling up her dark green eyes and staring at Lucy with sincerity. “Y/N put that hole in my heart and fill it up with her unconditional love, I’d like to think it that way. You may find it silly, I understand. But, she is my happiness. I’m sorry for hurting you for so long and never telling you about it, we were both scared.”
Lucy scoffs lightly and plays with the tip of her fingers, peeling off the slightly old skin from her index one, murmuring: “Being scared doesn’t fix what you’ve damaged. Both of you.”
“I know.”
Lucy hears a faint response from Natasha and gazes her eyes back at hers, watching as Natasha sobbed quietly in her spot.
“Lucy you’re my baby,” Natasha covers her face with her hands as she breathes violently with a sob. “You’re my daughter, I never meant to hurt you this way. I was just… so broken and lost that I couldn’t fight for my marriage with Maria. I didn’t love her anymore, I stopped loving her years ago.”
Lucy couldn’t help but start to let tears fall down her eyes as she hears her mother’s spoken words about how she really wanted to leave Maria. Most of all, she’s crying because even though they are not in a good situation – a horrible one to be exact – she’ll still love her mother to the brim of the world. Lucy was close with Maria, but her connection with Natasha is much deeper. Her whole personality is just like her mother’s, and she hates it.
But also adores it.
Natasha wipes her hands on her lap and slowly kneels on the floor where she was near her daughter, her hands grabbed Lucy’s cold hands and hold them warmly – gazing up at her and whispering: “I’m so sorry, Luce. I never meant to hurt you this way, I promise. Mom just really needed love in her life and she couldn’t get that from Maria, not at all. I’m sorry that it’s your best friend who you trust in the world, I’m so sorry!”
She felt so still with her mother’s words, yet comforting as her hands covered hers like a campfire. She finally let out a sob and nodded relentlessly as she thought of the words to say but nothing came out of her mouth, she was stunned. Very stunned.
At this point, could she hate her mother that bad? Maybe for a long time. Not after a scandalous affair that has happened, it would most certainly take her time to understand the situation and why Natasha really loves Y/N. Confusion and hatred fill her heart, and she’s going to try to at least move on from those feelings.
“I still hate you.” Lucy says with a monotone voice while she closes her eyes to stop herself from letting those tears out. “I really hate you, mom. I hate you and Y/N, so much.”
Natasha nods, pressing her sweaty forehead against Lucy’s hands, howling with tears. The woman truly understands what her daughter is going through, an affair that she didn’t know did a lot of damage to everyone. But, she had no regrets. She was a lot happier when Y/N came into her life, it’s like a whole drug to her; with a deeper meaning to it. She thinks of a scenario where there will be a day when Lucy forgives them, then they could be happy.
That’s a faded theory. It possibly won’t happen.
“You’re the love of my life, Luce. My only child that I could ever love besides Y/N. You’re important to me just as much Y/N does. But, you have to understand that I also want to be happy,” she says whimpering. Natasha could taste the salty tears from her eyes and lifted herself up, kissing her daughter’s forehead in such a gentle way, Lucy barely felt it.
“I do,” Lucy whispered, nodding faintly. “But, why her? Can’t you just love anyone else?”
“I wish I can,” a broken laugh erupted from her mouth, shaking her head. Natasha holds her cheeks and looks down at her – still shaking her head. There was no possible way that the redhead could love anyone else. “But it’s always going to be Y/N. I’m sorry, baby. I wish I could fall in love with someone else, but that girl is it for me.”
Lucy grabbed her two pieces of luggage and was picked up by her boyfriend John, leaving Natasha alone in their house. The woman could’ve stopped her daughter from leaving and rearranging things. Although she thinks it's better that way, to calm the storm before it gets bigger when it already has.
She sat on the couch while staring hard at the ground as she contained herself to not scream. Her hands maneuvered their way to her temple as she breathes hard, thinking about the happiest thoughts that could be in her memory in order not to lose herself.
But the truth is, she has already lost everything. Not just herself, but everyone she loves. And it hurts her heart and her head, overthinking to the point that she wants to hide away to avoid hurting Y/N and Lucy. How come love hurts like this? Why does it have to hurt this way? Those words repeated themselves inside her maniac head and cried onto her hands that were covering her mouth.
She had this thought of manifesting that she doesn’t feed herself until she dies of hunger and never has to deal with these problems again but that thought quickly faded when she knew how much it would break Y/N finding her body on the ground.
Why was she at this point in life? If she could’ve told Lucy sooner and admitted to it, they wouldn’t be here right now. She’d still have him both, happily. But everything was surely gone like it faded away with just one snap of a finger.
She feels rather pathetic that she’s the one who’s moping when Lucy deserved to feel that way instead of her. But, she cried until her chest started to numb.
Why do I have to hurt?
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If I will be honest, I have been having panic attacks recently, they were always there but it has gotten worse now – sadly. It’s been over a month since the last time I contacted or saw Natasha, especially Lucy. Well, that’s not true. I tried contacting Lucy but I figured that she may have blocked my phone number.
I deserved that.
I have a studio of my own near where I work and am currently on a journey towards becoming a journalist myself and thought about working as an editorial at a newspaper company which I remember Lucy fondly suggesting. I thought about making a coffee shop of my own but, that was buried deep in the ground since I no longer have a passion for doing so.
In fact, I have lost so much passion in everything I do ever since that fight began. It was like a melody inside my head, repeating the scenario over and over again until I cried myself to sleep thinking about it.
That’s right, crying. Lately, I have been feeling so much that it’s hard to put them back in the box. Maybe these were the effects of being a slutty friend, a homewrecker. I downgraded myself so much that I almost believed they were true, a fact. And maybe they were.
My shift ended earlier than I expected and removed the pink apron around my front, placing it on the counter before I grabbed my sling bag that was inside of a small locker. I work at a donut store which is the only job I could get into as I don’t have much money left, I would pay most of my money on bills which is extremely exhausting.
I walked to the videotape store to grab some classic songs that I am greatly fascinated about. My phone broke a week ago and now all I’m using is a slow computer and a walkman that belonged to my mom years ago. I smiled kindly at the owner and put the cassettes inside my bag before I headed my way back to my studio, happily satisfied with what I borrowed.
Throwing my bag across the room, I sat down on my bed that was on the floor with a long sigh. It was a tiring day, I woke up very early for work then I had to interact with the nastiest customers that I imagine myself strangling, which won’t happen. I can’t afford a lawyer.
I wondered sometimes how was Natasha doing like if she was eating well or still drinking, since whenever she would concur problems, a glass of whiskey was respectively on the table. I would always tell her not to drink since I have an experience with a drunken mother but she would reassure me not to worry as she knows her intake of alcohol. Of course, I trusted her and I always will.
I took a long warm bath and made myself an omelet that tasted awfully weird but I had no choice but to eat it. Then, I went back to my bed and covered myself with a long blanket that was way too big for my bed size. I tried reading my book but I started to feel some headaches so I turned off the lamp and fell asleep.
When I woke up I heard a soft knock that was coming from my front door and intently, I rolled my eyes. Who would be knocking on my door at 6’oclock in the morning? It’s quite ridiculous, to be honest, but I still went to my door and opened it with a swing, a sense of regret by seeing who it was.
Natasha was standing in front of me with her lips trembling from the cold wind that was hitting her face, her bits of hair flying in the air. The woman looked thin, frailed. And her appearance wasn’t so grand either but yet I still think she was the most beautiful thing ever.
Which she is.
“Hi.” she says, giving me a small smile but fade when I didn’t give the same treatment back. “I–”
“How did you know where I live?”
I could’ve smiled at her back, gave her a kiss, and hugged her tight but I stood on my ground for some reason. Maybe I was frightened by her presence or if I would do that kind of action, Lucy pops up out of nowhere and starts to vandalize my personal space. And foremost, I didn’t know how to react. Should I be giddy that she’s here? No, I’m mostly wondering how she found me and knew where I lived since I haven’t contacted her in such a long time.
Too long.
“If I’m going to be honest, I saw where you were working and followed you to where you live,” she responded, feeling guilty that she may have stalked her – not on purpose. “Sorry for that.”
“That was a stalker move.”
She chuckles but then stops after a few seconds, nodding in agreement.
“I guess.”
I looked sideways outside the studio and quickly pulled her inside, closing the door as if we were about to be exposed once again. I am still frightened about that thought.
“Sorry if it’s a mess here, I haven’t gone furniture shopping yet.” I say in a joking matter but it’s rather a fact since there was only one bed and a lamp that was on the floor and it wouldn’t make sense if I did go shopping for some furniture considering how small the room was. There was a mini stove on the corner and a pile of books on the other. “Make yourself comfortable, you can sit on my bed.”
She nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, pressing her knees together as if scared to be near me. I grabbed a spare bottle of water and handed it to her, she gladly accepted it and took a large mouthful of water; then wiped her mouth with her hand.
“It’s comfortable here.”
“It’s small but thank you, Natasha.”
She felt stung as I said her full name. I know she didn’t like being called Natasha when it comes to me but, we haven’t talked in such a long time. It would have felt weird calling her nickname.
I sat down beside her but not too close or else I might not contain myself from kissing her mouth, which I really hope that thought goes away any time soon. There was a long awkward silence between us until she spoke in such a gallant tone.
“I missed you.”
I could feel the thump in my heart as she says those three words: I miss you. It kept repeating inside of my head and thought about how much I did miss her too. How much I wanted to be held by her again and tell me that it was all going to be okay, maybe the thought of her making love to me sometimes came across my mind, and how much I would like to be touched by her again.
Instinctive thought, I can’t let that happen. Not after what we did to Lucy.
But yet, I couldn’t help but reply: “I missed you too.”
I could imagine her smiling but couldn’t bring myself to look at her as she does, maybe I was scared of her reaction and that’s probably why I didn’t take a quick glimpse at her.
“How’s Lucy?” I asked with a serious tone this time but a tinge of sweetness.
She breathes in and out slowly and responded, “She moved out a month ago.”
I whispered an oh and looked down at my hands shamefully, reminiscing the memory of her slapping me across the face which I did deserve. I asked abruptly, “Have you and her had a talk? Like about what happened between you and me?”
She nods, “Yeah, we did.”
“What did she say?”
Natasha smacks her lips and whispers, “When I laid it all out, she did nothing but pack her bags and leave the house. But, I could see that she was trying to understand the situation and I hope someday that she’ll accept it because there’s nothing much I can do but to apologize and make it all better.”
I nodded and played with the hem of my dark red shirt, responding: “Lucy will probably not forgive us for a very long time.”
“Have you tried talking to her?”
I remember when there was a time that I called her, 3 to 4 times. She never picked up. I figured that I was blocked and started to email her, although I quickly drafted the note because I felt like it was going to annoy the shit out of Lucy. Or maybe I was just a pussy that’s why I never sent it, I strongly still feel like a pussy whenever I would open my computer and check my emails.
She says, “I think you should, Y/N. You have to talk to her about everything too.”
“I just need more time.”
Natasha turns her head and sees that I was about to cry just thinking about Lucy. I could feel the tension when she was staring at me, it almost made my skin prickle because of it. Not only that but her hands started to move slowly all the way to my other hand and squeezed it in such a gentle matter that I might have a break down right in front of her.
And I did.
She immediately wrapped her long arms around me while I had my face on her chest, whimpering and sobbing as I never thought that I’ll be this close to her again. I had this thought that if I wouldn’t see Natasha or even be held by her, I’d never function again. And just by her embrace, her warmest embrace, makes me feel embroidered with such joy and obligation that I could never hold.
“Detka,” she says to my little nickname while pecking on my head gently, rubbing my back up and down as I cried harder on her damped shirt. “You’re okay, it’s okay. Let it all out, sweet girl. I’m here and I always will be.”
The reassurance that she gave me is the only thing that will matter right at this moment. Just her saying I’ll always be here made me think that she really is here, that she’s hugging me so tight that I’ll never be able to leave her.
And maybe that’s the whole point, maybe I couldn’t leave her. Not even if I try, I’ll find my way back to her as she will to me.
“I’m sorry.”
“What for? You didn’t do anything, I did this.” there she goes again, taking the blame which sometimes is annoying yet so beautiful about her. “You have no idea how much I’ve longed for this, baby. No idea at all.”
Maybe I was insane about this but I barely could’ve helped myself. I lifted my head up until I pressed my lips against her open mouth as she flinched from shock. I notice her movement and was about to pull away but her hands ran cradled my cheeks and kissed me harder than I did. We both knew we longed for this moment, how many days and weeks we didn’t see each other because of the heat, and now, we’re kissing each other like there was no end.
She pulls away while touching my forehead against mine and says something in a tiny voice: “No matter how many times the world tries to ruin us, I will always love you. I will always be in love with you, unconditionally and uncontrollably. And if this is my sin then it’s a damn good one.”
I hitched my breath from her little confession and kissed the tip of her nose, smiling like a child. I don’t care anymore if Lucy will disagree with what me and Natasha have – although that’s such a bad idea –, at this point, I don’t care.
I’d rather be happy with someone than be alone again for the rest of my life. And as the critics say, you don’t need anyone to be happy and I do agree with that, but I’d rather be with someone who could accept us than be alone.
I kissed her again but this time it was more possessive which was very unlike me. She pulled me into her lap and turned slightly, pushing me onto the bed, and looked at me with worried eyes. I kissed her nose again for reassurance that she didn’t hurt me and quickly took off her belt, throwing it across the floor. Then, her lips re-attract to mine, and this time it was full of hunger and passion, her tongue was smothering on my bottom lip for access and I opened it, moaning when I could feel her tongue against the roof of my mouth.
She pulls away with a smack and whispered lowly, “Do you want me?”
I nodded frantically to her question and arched my hips to emphasize it, responding with a moan: “Yes, I want you… please.”
Natasha growled into my ear and opened my legs more until I wrapped them around her back, making her stuck which she didn’t complain about. The woman moved her hands to my left breast and squeezed it gently, watching my face as I made an expression. It was fascinating for her whenever I would react to her simplest touch, alluring to her eyes. Somehow, in every movement I make, she always finds it incredibly beautiful. Like a butterfly.
I slightly pushed her chest away and flipped us over, making myself above her and she sighs deeply when I start kissing her chest to her stomach, asking her to remove her shirt silently. The redhead fastened her process until she was completely topless, her breasts sticking out for attention. I unzip her pants rather leisurely that it got her so impatient, she demands lowly: “Take it off, dove. Just take it off.”
There was an intense staring until I hooked my fingers inside of her pants and pulled it down slowly, smiling when I could see her laced black panties that were in front of me. My lips pressed against her pelvis and took off her underwear until I could see her cunt I was desperate to be touched.
“Can I touch you?” I asked gently while making circular movements on her hips. Natasha wasn’t that person to be touched, she always thinks that I should receive it more than she does. But right at this moment, I want to make love to her. She can do that with me later as much as she wants.
“Yes, please. Just eat me out good.”
My lips start to kiss on her clit as she yelps in satisfaction, the littlest even. I continued to peck on it until I ran my fingers on her wet folds, moaning when it was very wet with want and desperation. Her hand made its way to my head and pushed my face onto her cunt, making my whole mouth attach to her nub.
“God, you’re so good,” she says in a sultry voice while slightly grinding against my face. “Eat my pussy good, baby. Please…”
I held her hips tightly as I swiped my tongue against her folds, making those squelching sounds around the room. She bites her lip to stifle her moan as she twists her hand onto the sheet, unbarring the pleasure that she is receiving. It felt all too good and too fast, but in such a good way.
I thrust my tongue inside of her cunt while I padded my thumb against her clit, rubbing it at a faster pace and the woman held my head tighter, grinding on my face harsher. I can hear her whispering some Russian words that I cannot understand but yet found it ridiculously hot.
“I’m gonna cum,” she warned and held my face in place, rolling her hips to emphasize it. “I’m gonna cum inside your mouth, okay?”
I nodded and opened my mouth as she rubs her clit furiously until she shuts her eyes tightly as her back arched, moaning and grunting loudly as I can taste her cum filling in my mouth endlessly. Her hips stuttered as she came down from her orgasm and covered her eyes with her arms and panting.
“I didn’t know you could eat pussy like that,” she jokes while I lay down beside her. “I’m utterly shocked.”
“Well, I had a lot of practice.”
I could hear her grumble quietly and gasped when her whole body was on top of me, biting my neck but gently. She whispered dangerously close to my ear: “Watch your words, little one.”
Her hands hooked inside my panties as she drags them down with so much eagerness inside of her. Once I was fully naked in front of her eyes, she tongue kisses me until I was a moaning mess beneath her. She brought her fingers down to my pussy and played with my folds, chuckling when I bit my bottom lip and whimpered in pleasure.
“You missed me, yeah?”
“Uh-huh,” I murmured while grinding on the palm of her hand, pulling her closer to me, and kissing her mouth greedily – afraid enough for her to let me go. There was something so intimate between us as we make love, it’s unexplainable yet so beautiful in such an artistic way.
“I love you,” she whispers into my neck as she thrust three fingers inside of me without warning. I gripped her back as I whimpered in great satisfaction that was making my cunt feel so good. “I love you so much, Y/N.”
My thighs locked around hers as her fingers were buried deep inside of me until I could feel the heel of her palm onto my clit, feeling the friction whenever she would erratically thrust her fingers inside of my cunt. I start to place my hand against the wall as I can feel her hips grinding into mine while opening her fingers and kept shoving them inside, smirking when I had my eyes shut while tears were running down my cheek.
“Feel so good, baby…” she grunts, placing her thumb against my clit and pressing it hard. “You’re all I have, you’re all I need I swear–ugh–I swear, kotenok. You’re all I have…”
What she doesn’t know is that she’s all I have too. You can’t deny when me and Natasha are possibly made for each other to complete that hole in our hearts like it was made for it in such a perfect way. If she was having a burden, then so am I. If she’s happy, then so am I. I know very well that I was made for her as she was made for me.
That is until I started to realize that I was being a naive person once again.
“You’re going to make me cum…” I whispered on her lips as I could hear her grunting while her eyes were gazing at me, smiling until she groaned.
“I’m going to cum too,” she says while pushing her fingers deeper inside of me until I can feel the tip of her fingers hitting my gentle spot. She husks, “Tell me you love me.”
“Come on,” the redhead begs while pulling out and pressing her cunt against mine while her hands are hooked around my thighs. She haunches over me again and again and whispers into my neck hungrily, “Tell me you love me.”
“I love you.”
She gives one thrust, “Again.”
“I love you.” I love you so much, Natasha. I love you until–
“Oh fuck–God,” she says while touching my hair with her other hand, smiling with tears. “Tell me one more time.”
“I love you,” I say until I feel my climax kicking in. I threw my arms around her neck as I screamed in pleasure, not caring if my neighbors would hear me. She swipes her tongue against the roof of my mouth and kisses me while I could feel her hips start to grind on me slowly – her hands gripping my hips to hold me down onto her lap.
Pulling away, she whispers with a soft sob erupting from her voice: “I love you more, I promise.”
Her one hand was against my cheeks while I was holding her face gently. I kissed her lips one more time and fell my head onto her neck, sobbing with her. She hugged me into her arms as I sat on her lap in an uncomfortable way, but I didn’t mind. Her just holding me is what I needed the most and I’m sure that she badly needed it too.
Everything was beautiful again.
She sobs again, “I love you more, okay? I promise that I will love you more.”
“I know, Tasha.”
She sighs in relief when I say her nickname that I always use. I could feel her smiling against my face and kissing my cheeks gently, soothing my hair while cradling me into her arms. Saying, “I love it when you call me that.”
“I know.”
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“Sometimes I wonder why I couldn’t feel anything when I was surrounded by the people I love.”
She hums quietly while pulling me closer to her arms, with curiosity in her eyes.
“Maybe because I’m a weirdo,” I say while laughing sarcastically and then noticing Natasha didn’t laugh back so I stopped myself. “When Lucy found out, I remember crying hysterically at the bus station while people were looking at me… not in the fondest way. And lately, I’ve been feeling so much that it’s so hard to contain it because I don’t know how to act on it.”
“You don’t have to, my love.” Natasha kisses my temple gently while cradling me like a little baby. It was comforting to be held by someone who really cares about me, and it’s a little sad when most of the people I do love don’t.
“I want to stop feeling,” I responded while I stared deeply at the wall with no pictures up in the wall, noticing how oddly empty it was. “I use to not feel anything except when it comes to you. You were the only person that made me feel these heightening emotions that I couldn’t bare myself containing.”
“It’s normal, you know?” she reassures me and brought my other arm around her naked stomach. “It’s normal, I promise. You can feel as many emotions as you want, okay?”
Then, she kisses my lips one last time before drifting off to bed. And while she was asleep, I was there – widely awake. I thought about a moment of running away with Natasha once more, living far away from everyone so that we could fully be ourselves. But, I also worry for Lucy and her behalf because of it. I can’t lose her either, it would be way too hard to do so.
But how can I do that when her mother is who I love? Those words I love you more, I promise kept repeating in my head until they got stuck on me, and hung on to them. I was completely fucked up – and so she was too.
For everyone’s sanity and for myself as well, maybe I should really end things with Natasha; even though it wouldn’t do us any good. Everything felt incredibly unfair and that one person was at least happy and I wasn’t. Natasha wasn’t. But why blame her? Lucy was deeply hurt by our situation and I couldn’t let that happen again.
What I am only asking for is one more night like this with her then I’ll be alright, someday. And maybe it would kill me but at least everyone’s at peace.
I’m too selfless, I’d like to think that to myself. And sometimes, I do it so much that I shouldn’t even start doing it. But when you’re a good person, you can’t help it. It doesn’t mean when you aren’t selfless means you’re awful, it’s just that you’re also thinking of the others as well.
“I love you Tasha,” I whisper so quietly that I could barely hear myself and kissed her head that smelled like lavender, as usual. I tuck myself in and rest my head against her shoulder, smiling until I fall asleep on her.
Then, Natasha left.
taglist:  @sayah13 @santasbitch @bepisbeansprouts @sabstance-blog @cl-e @s1ut4nat @lostremind @comfy-mee @how-to-disappearr @when-wolves-howl @sapphosclosefriend @korekiyoss​ @aru-son​  @alwaysgoodnight​ @elle-romanoff​ @bitchmckenna​ @strangegardentaco​ @aru-son​ @officialbriiiisworld​ @get-the-fuck-outta-here​ @mmmmokdok​ @thatonebrazilian​ @inluvwithfictionalwomen​  @ejs398​ (can’t seem to tag the others, so so sorry x)
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macaroni-with-hotsause · a month ago
[ clint, nat, cap and y/n have been captured by hydra, are tied up to chairs and being questioned by the boss ]
boss: are you sure? there is absolutely nothing i can get you to say? *walks to natasha*
nat: there is nothing you need to know so i suggest you keep your nose out of businesses that don't involve you
boss: *chuckles and looks to cap* mr captain america? do you have anything you want to share?
boss: *rolls his eyes* how about you two? *looks at y/n and clint*
y/n: I GOT ONE
boss: *smirks* yes?
y/n: *points at the boss guy* YOU'RE A FAT F**K
nat & steve: *aren't amused*
boss: WAIT how did you get your arms un-tied!?
y/n: i un-tied them? duh.
boss: but that's impossible!
y/n: clearly it isn't cause my hands are un-tied babe anyways i'm bored so let's get this over with *shoots widow bites at the boss guy and all his minions*
nat: detka, are those my widow bites
y/n: no trasha ramenoff. no, they are souvenirs from mongolia
nat: *glares*
steve: natsha, they were recruited for being a stealthy pickpocket
y/n: and being incredibly hot *winks and shoots finger guns*
steve: hurry and un-tie us so we can get outta here and we are going to be having a harsh conversation about why we do not call people names, even if they are our enemies
y/n: *whines* FINE but not nat *smirks* she likes bondage-
clint: PLEASE
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danverswitch · 29 days ago
Natasha: Do you want to know your gay name?
Y/n: My... my gay name?
Natasha: Yeah, it's your first name-
Y/n: Haha. Very funny Nat-
Natasha: *gets down on one knee* And my last name.
Y/n: Oh- oh my god.
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Yess Nat , Yess!
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lcvernat · 2 months ago
That Stupid Red String | Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Part 2
Summary: In a world where you can feel your soulmates pain, being Natasha Romanoff's soulmate can simultaneously be the best and worst thing to ever happen to you. The only way to stop feeling your soulmates pain was to meet said soulmate, which seemed impossible to you, but fate works in mysterious ways.
Word Count: 5.9k
Content Warnings: soulmate au, strong language, fluff/lighthearted cause angst sucks, injuries/knife wound, reader is a doctor, natasha with children is adorable, brief mention of being drunk/high, mention of painkillers, original female characters
A/N: oh my god okay, so i kind of got a bit carried away with this? just a bit? this is incredibly long and i'm sorry, but there's also sort of potential for a part 2. maybe? i guess just lmk if you would want that? also disclaimer, i am not a doctor and know literally nothing about knife wounds so if something is wrong or unrealistic or whatever, either just point it out and i'll fix it or ignore it and i will too LMAO. oh and all my fics are gn!reader unless specified. final thing, i suck at fic titles and summaries i'm sorry. <3
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Every teenager longed for the day they turned 18, so they could gain that special connection with their soulmate by feeling each other's pain. They claimed that being able to share each other's physical pain brought you closer together and built a stronger connection between the both of you before you met.
Personally, you had always thought being able to feel someone else's pain would be slightly inconvenient. What if they had a migraine the day you had a life-changing job interview? That's not to mention the fact that you had to deal with your own pain, because feeling someone else's pain does not make you immune to suffering from your own headaches. Unfortunately.
Still, you couldn't deny that part of you was excited. Until the day you turned 18. You had woken up with agonising pain along your ribs, it felt as if someone had shattered them into a million pieces overnight. You had originally brushed it off as your soulmate having a terrible day. Then it happened again, and again, and again. Nearly every single day since the age of 18, you were in some form of pain because of your soulmate. Most people only experienced the occasional soulmate headache, or their soulmate stubbing their toe or accidentally bumping their hip against a table. Normal things that would cause people pain. You, on the other hand, had grown accustomed to bruised ribs, broken bones, knife wounds, bullet wounds, bruised knuckles and the like.
It had sucked massively at the beginning, but when you had to come to the devastating conclusion that your soulmate definitely has a death wish, you just had to learn to live with it. You've certainly built up a pain tolerance over the years, though you still can't help but resent your soulmate. You know you shouldn't - they're your soulmate after all - but anyone who had to learn to live with constant, agonising pain would feel the same, right?
The common knowledge that the only way to relieve yourself of the constant discomfort was to touch your soulmate brought little to no comfort to you. That occurrence was rare, and many people went their entire life without ever meeting their soulmate. Some people just simply didn't have the effort to search, so they married someone else. The lucky ones that did find their soulmate claimed that you feel a 'secret pull' towards them, but you're pretty sure that's a lie considering the only pull you've ever felt was to the fridge at 3am.
Although, you were determined to find your soulmate. Simply just so you could scream at them for hours and ask them what the fuck they were thinking, getting themselves into all sorts of dangerous situations. Though, since you're well past the age of 18, you've started to lose hope that you'll ever find them.
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"So, what's on the menu today? Knife wound? Broken rib? What about a broken leg?" Your best friend, Kya, teased you as soon as you had set foot into the hospital breakroom. You had thought that becoming a doctor would make it easier to meet your soulmate, considering you had to make physical contact with a lot of patients every day. That was, unfortunately, not the case. Although, Kya was one of the lucky ones who had found their soulmate, and she made it her job to tease you every waking second about your constant struggle.
"Nothing, actually, must be a rest day for them." It was true, whoever your soulmate was was certainly not in the mood to put themselves into a life-threatening situation today. You savored these rare days of painless bliss.
"Okay, in all seriousness though, I had a thought last night. At about 2am, because I couldn't sleep." You sit down beside Kya on the couch as she puts her steaming mug of coffee down onto the table and turns to face you.
You raise an eyebrow at her, indicating with your hand for her to continue.
"What if, your soulmate is an Avenger?-" you interrupted her by snorting in disbelief, which she reprimanded you for, "No, wait, listen. It makes sense. The bullet wounds, the knife wounds, the bruised knuckles. Your soulmate is either a highly dangerous criminal, or an Avenger. And I'd certainly prefer it to be an Avenger."
"Or," you enunciated, "they're a boxer or something a lot more realistic than a 'highly dangerous criminal' or 'an Avenger'."
"A boxer would not have knife or bullet wounds."
"Maybe they're just a really bad boxer?" You attempted, though you knew that point was stupid and your effort was futile as Kya had clearly spent all of last night convincing herself that her point was right.
"No. It's true: Y/N Y/L/N's soulmate is an Avenger. It's going to make headlines, and my best friend is going to be famous." Kya made a show of looking whimsically off into the distance, and you slapped her playfully on the arm.
"Yeah, no, shut up."
She rolls her eyes at you before glancing down at her watch and letting out a groan, "Crap, my break's over. Got to go." She downs the last of her coffee faster than humanly possible before giving you a final goodbye and walking out of the breakroom.
You ponder over Kya's words for a few more minutes after she left. Maybe? Could your soulmate really be an Avenger? You snort, shaking your head in disbelief. Definitely not, even thinking the words sounds stupid. You push the thought out of your mind, making your way over to the coffee machine to quickly make yourself a cup before your break ended.
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"Trust me, this is going to be so fun." Kya tries to convince you as she tightly grabs your hand, pulling you with her against your will. It was a couple of weeks after Kya had brought up the Avenger-soulmate idea, and you both had got a well needed day off. Being doctors, this was an incredibly rare occurrence and you took as much advantage of it as you could. Even though it was slightly ruined by your aching muscles, that you knew were not caused by any exercise you had done, considering you didn't do any exercise yesterday, which meant it was the cause of your lovely soulmate. It was also Kya's nieces birthday today, and both of her parents were busy so Kya had took it upon herself to bring her and you to something you thought was highly ironic: an Avenger's event and meet and greet.
"You're definitely still pushing this Avenger-soulmate agenda, aren't you?" You had asked her when she brought up the idea, she had vehemently denied that fact but you still spotted the mischievous twinkle in her eye. Unfortunately, for the life of you, you could not think of a good enough excuse that she would buy to get out of it. So that's why you found yourself in the middle of Times Square, being dragged to meet the Avengers.
"This is meant to be for kids," you pointed out, gesturing all around you to the little kids dressed in Avengers costumes and merchandise.
"Okay? And? We have a kid right here." Kya could only gesture with a tip of her head towards Lillian, as the little girl was gripping onto Kya's hand whilst Kya's other hand was gripping onto yours. The little girl in question was dressed up in a Black Widow costume, complete with a ginger wig and you had to admit that it was really adorable.
"When are they even meant to come out?" You asked, looking around you at the obvious lack of the actual Avengers.
"Uh, pretty sure the advertisement said 1pm? Can you check the time? Both of my hands are occupied." Kya replied.
"You know you can just let go of my hand?" You said even as you took your phone out of your pocket to check the time, "It's 12:45."
"Yes, but I'm afraid you might run away. We have 15 minutes to waste though, so where do you want to go?" She directed the question towards Lillian, who immediately started dragging you both in the direction of the Black Widow merch stand.
Once Lillian had successfully tricked Kya into buying her practically one of everything from the merch stand, you both made your way over to the makeshift stage, where the Avengers would come out. There was already a tightly packed crowd surrounding it, but since it was Lillian's birthday, Kya and you were determined to get her up to the front, so you did what any adult would do: pushed your way to the front. Was it the most morally right thing to do, especially at an Avengers event? No, it was not. You still done it anyway, and soon were at the front, in full view of the stage.
Lillian pulled on your shirt again, "Put me on your shoulders, Y/N, please!" She looked up at you with pleading puppy dog eyes.
"We are literally right in front of the stage." You pointed out.
"My legs hurt!" She whined, and you sighed.
"Yeah? Well so do mine, and my arms, and my entire body. I pray you aren't soulmates with someone who has absolutely no pain tolerance." Even though your arms were screaming in protest, you still lifted the young girl up and sat her on your shoulders, holding onto her legs so she doesn't fall.
Kya opened her mouth, but whatever words were about to come spewing out were quickly drowned out by the screams and cheers of the crowd as the Avenger's finally walked out. Each of them smiled and waved, but your eyes were somehow automatically drawn to Black Widow. She had a huge, genuine smile on her face as she waved to the fans, and you couldn't help but be captivated by her smile. She was absolutely breathtaking, you couldn't deny that. Still, even from here she seemed incredibly intimidating and you really would not want her as an enemy.
Her eyes moved throughout the crowd, and locked on yours. Her gaze straying up to Lillian on your shoulder who started yelling and screaming, "BLACK WIDOW! BLACK WIDOW!" The woman in question smiled at her and Lillian was in hysterics. Her gaze went back to you, and she smirked. You looked away quickly, wondering why a simple smirk had made your face heat up. Did it just get really hot all of a sudden?
"You're blushing," Kya pointed out the obvious.
You scoffed, "I am not. It's just very warm."
"It's like 60 degrees."
"The weather app is wrong."
Kya hummed, clearly not convinced but deciding not to comment further on it as Captain America started speaking. He explained that they were going to do a Q&A first, and then after they would be roaming around the event and would be free for any pictures or autographs. It was about halfway through the Q&A, Lillian had seemingly got bored with sitting on your shoulders and had moved to Kya's shoulders instead, when a teenage girl raised her hand and asked, "Natasha and Steve, what's going on between the two of you? There's clearly a lot of chemistry."
The crowd was a mixture of 'oooos' and annoyed murmurs from some. You noticed Natasha's jaw clench slightly before she brought her microphone up to answer, "Trust me, there isn't anything going on. Me and Steve are just great friends."
"But there has to be something! It's so obvious! You have to be soulmates!" The girl insisted.
"Steve is like a brother to me, we're incredibly close and I love him, but there's nothing more to it. We aren't soulmates. Plus, he isn't even my type." Steve whacked her left arm in faux offence. Suddenly, there was a stinging pain on your left arm and you rubbed it gingerly, "Ow." Kya's head snapped towards you, saw you rubbing your left arm, and snapped back towards Natasha's so quickly that it's a miracle she didn't get whiplash.
You looked at her shocked expression in confusion, murmuring a "What?" which she brushed off, only mouthing a 'Talk later' to you, which left you confused but you turned your attention back to the stage.
The teenage girl was still persisting, and you had to say you were honestly impressed she had the balls to bicker with the Natasha Romanoff. That is, until Natasha quickly shut her up, "Listen, Steve is not my soulmate, I still haven't found mine. Okay? Next question."
The Q&A ended quickly after that, with awkward tension still hanging in the air after the girl's question, and the crowd quickly dispersed in an effort to be the first ones to spot their favorite Avenger. Kya pulled you along, Lillian still on her shoulders, but she had a faraway expression on her face, as if she was concentrating on something else.
It took you three quite a while to spot Natasha in the crowd. You supposed if a spy didn't want to be found, they wouldn't be. She was loitering by one of the game stalls, looking at something on her phone, no one went near her and you assumed it was because they didn't want to risk being caught in her wrath - she still seemed pretty pissed off by that question. Still, nothing would stop Lillian as she begged and begged Kya to bring her over.
Kya turned to look at you, "You coming?"
You shook your head, "I'm starving, so how about I go get us some food while you and Little Black Widow here go meet actual Black Widow?"
"Actually, I really think you should go, I can get the food."
You raised an eyebrow in confusion, "Um, no. She's your niece, plus your choice in food is horrible, sorry not sorry. I'm getting the food." You walked away in the direction of one of the food stands before she could protest.
You came back around 10 minutes later with three corndogs in your hands, the line had been thankfully very short. Lillian was talking animatedly to Natasha, the woman bent down to Lillian's height. Kya turned around and spotted you, "There you are! Lillian wants a photo of me, Natasha and her. Would you be able to take it?"
You look down at the corndogs in your hands, "What do you think, Sherlock?"
"Oh crap, yeah, um," Kya grabbed two of the corndogs, turning to give one to Lillian, "can you take the photo one handed?"
Before you could respond Natasha spoke, "Hey, it's alright. I can take it."
Kya turned around, clearly shocked, "Are you sure? I feel like there's something a bit wrong asking the Black Widow to hold a corndog for you."
Natasha looked at Kya in exasperation, "Oh please, hand it over." Before Kya could protest any further, Natasha had already grabbed the corndog out of Kya's hand, and you handed the one you were still holding to Kya.
You took out your phone and swiped to the camera, "Alright, everyone say corndogs!" You laughed as all three of them said corndogs before snapping the photo. You looked at it, "That's adorable, you happy with it?" You showed it to Lillian who squealed in happiness and nodded eagerly.
"Hey, do you not want a photo?" Kya asked you while taking the corndog out of Natasha's hand and handing it back to you.
You shook your head, "It's alright. It was for Lillian, really, so it doesn't matter."
"No, I really think you should take a photo with Natasha."
You took a bite of your corndog and swallowed before replying, "I said it was fine. You're acting really weird."
Before Kya could protest, Captain America called for Natasha and she turned to you three, "That's me, I'm sorry. It was lovely meeting you all, especially you, Lillian," she bent down and gave the girl a final hug before heading off in the direction of Steve's shout.
Kya looked about ready to scream, for a reason you couldn't for the life of you figure out. You took another bite of your corndog as she glared at you.
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It was a couple of weeks after the Avenger's meet and greet, and Kya had been acting weird around you ever since. Natasha Romanoff had somehow made her way up to the number one topic of conversation between the two of you, and you really couldn't understand where Kya's new obsession for her had come from.
So, when you had arrived home at 4am one night after another grueling hospital shift, your head feeling as if it was splitting in two, and your phone had lit up with an incoming call from your best friend, you had originally expected it to be another new revelation she had found out about Natasha. Thankfully, it was not.
"Bestie, are you up?" Her voice sounded through the phone speakers.
"Just literally got home from my shift, so you have 5 minutes before I hang up and go straight to bed. What's up?" You sat your keys down on the kitchen counter and take your shoes off whilst you speak, wincing as a sharp stab of pain went through your head.
"I literally do not care. You need to get on your laptop right now and open up the Stark Industries website."
"Why would I do that?" You ask, even though you were already heading towards your bedroom to grab your laptop.
"Because," she made a show of dragging the word out, "they literally just posted an advertisement for new doctors and nurses in the MedBay at the Avenger's Tower. You need to apply."
"Okay, one: why do I need to apply? And two, why was it posted on the Stark Industries website if it's about the Avenger's?"
"Answering question two first: I don't know but I don't care. One: you need to apply because I'm still wholeheartedly convinced your soulmate is an Avenger, and I've narrowed it down to approximately one person, so you need to get that job and prove me right. If you don't apply yourself I will literally apply for you, do not test me."
You roll your eyes at your best friend's words before turning on your laptop, "And who are you so convinced my soulmate is?"
You fully snorted at that, your voice disbelieving as you say, "Are you drunk? Or high?"
"No," she sounds annoyed, and you can picture her rolling her eyes at you, "I'm just a mastermind. So you better apply right now. Goodnight."
She hung up before you could respond, and even though you knew she was likely being stupid, you trusted your best friend to stay true to her word and apply for you if you didn't, so you went onto the website, clicked on the application and applied. It was 5am by the time you were finished, you were so tired and your headache had gotten a million times worse, so you ended up just falling asleep in your work uniform, laptop still open on the bed beside you.
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It had been 2 weeks since you applied, so at this point you weren’t expecting to get a call or even an email back. You were proved wrong though, when one day your phone started ringing in the break room, it was an unknown number.
“That better be what I think it is,” Kya said, noticing the unknown number.
You picked it up, “Hello?”
A feminine voice reached your ears, “Hello, is this Y/N Y/L/N?”
“It is,” you said as Kya looks at you, excitement twinkling in her eyes.
“Hi, yes, this is Connie speaking. I’m the receptionist at the Avenger’s Tower. We are really pleased with your application and are wondering if you would still be interested in an in-person interview? This would really just to be to know you personally, to see if you’re a good fit for the job.”
You couldn’t help it when a huge smile blossomed on your face, as Kya repeatedly whacked your arm in excitement, “Thank you, yes I’d still be interested in doing an interview.”
“Perfect. How does next Monday at 1:00pm sound?”
Fortunately, you were off on the Monday. “That’s perfect, thank you.” You said a final goodbye to the receptionist before hanging up, instantly being engulfed in a hug by a squealing Kya.
You laughed before pushing her off you, “Okay. Calm down, I still need to do the actual interview. Plus, I’m still highly doubtful that Natasha Romanoff is my soulmate.”
Kya merely nodded at you, obviously not believing a word you were saying but choosing to ignore it.
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You woke up on that Monday and instantly groaned when you felt your muscles ache. Curse your soulmate who seemed to favor working out at ungodly hours of the morning. You had half a mind to start working out as payback, but that idea quickly died when you realized that your soulmate likely wouldn't be fazed by aching muscles, since they appeared to have grown so accustomed to pain.
Still, you managed to drag yourself out of bed and get ready for the day. Kya had texted you a spam of encouraging texts, with the occasional 'if natasha rlly is your soulmate i deserve money' in between. You had to admit, you were slightly nervous about the interview. Yes, you had been a doctor for years, and you knew that you knew your stuff - you didn't go through years of torture in Med School not to know it - but this was about being a doctor for Earth's Mightest Heroes, which kind of meant a lot of pressure.
Your nerves didn't ease in the slightest as you arrived at the Avenger's Tower, the giant building looming over you, blocking out any sunshine like an ill omen. You steeled yourself, taking a deep breath before entering the building. The receptionist seemed pretty occupied, only offering you a split second glance before her eyes went back to her work. You walked up to her, clearing your throat nervously.
"Yes?" She asked, still not looking at you.
"Hi, I'm Y/N Y/L/N. I'm here for an interview?"
"Oh yes, just head up to the meeting room. The elevator is just ahead."
You were about to ask what floor the meeting room was on, but then the phone started ringing and the woman didn't even bother sparing you another glance as she picked it up. Guess you'll just have to find it yourself. You stopped the elevator on the first floor, hopefully assuming this is the floor the meeting room was on. Unfortunately, as you walked down the hallway, there was no door or sign indicating where this 'meeting room' was - you were starting to think it didn't even exist, until you rounded the corner and walked straight into someone.
"Oh!" Came the surprised shout before you profusely started apologizing, "It's fine, really," the woman stopped your rambling, then she tilted her head as she stared at you, "are you new here? I don't recognize you."
You recognized her all right, it was Wanda Maximoff. You had just walked straight into Wanda Maximoff and you really wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole. "Uh, yeah, sorry," you began awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck, "I'm here for an interview. The receptionist was busy and told me to go to the meeting room, but I don't actually know where that is."
Wanda's face lit up in recognition, "Oh! Are you Y/N? No worries, I can show you where it is. " She spun around on her heel and you followed her, curious how she knew your name. She stopped outside of a door, "Here it is! Good luck, but I'm positive you'll get the job. Hopefully I'll see you around." You waved goodbye to Wanda before walking inside.
You were greeted by the sight of Steve Rogers and none other than Natasha Romanoff. "Ah, Y/N," Steve stood up, walking over to you and shaking your hand, "take a seat." He gestured to a seat facing him and Natasha, and you sat down. "Now, this may seem daunting, but don't worry. You've basically already got the job, we just want to know a little bit about you. Also, if Natasha looks like she's staring into your soul, don't worry. She's just doing her job, making sure you aren't secretly a spy undercover or anything like that." You nodded, daring a glance at Natasha who was indeed staring into your soul, as if she was analyzing every single thing about you. You couldn't help but squirm under her gaze.
The interview went smoother than you had expected it to, and soon the three of you were standing up, getting ready to leave. "Well, Y/N, you definitely do have the job. Don't worry, we had already contacted your work when we first read your application to let them know you'd be moving to work here, so they've already known weeks in advance and you don't need to worry." Steve smiled at you, and you thanked him before leaving.
You called Kya later that night, and you're pretty sure you're now deaf in one ear as she screamed down the phone at you.
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You had been working in the MedBay for well over 2 months now, and you couldn't be happier. All the Avenger's were lovely, and still managed to crack jokes even as they came in limping, blood dripping down their leg from a bullet wound or knife wound after a mission. Surprisingly, it was a lot more chill than a normal hospital job. You only had to look after the Avenger's, and it was only ever really injuries from missions and nothing more extreme. Though you do recall that one time Tony came in because he had spilled boiling water over himself.
Though, much to Kya's dismay, you had little to no interaction with Natasha. She was rarely ever a visitor to the MedBay, whether that was because she was simply too stubborn to go or because she just never got hurt on missions, you weren't sure. You saw her in the halls sometimes when you were on your lunch break, but all you both done was give each other a small smile as you walk by.
Kya still wouldn't let the 'Natasha is your soulmate' agenda go, though. You were currently on your lunch break, and since Kya had the day off and you rarely ever got time to see each other anymore since you moved jobs, you decided to meet up at a café for lunch.
"Right, list all the Avengers you have and have not made physical contact with then." Kya asked you over a cup of coffee. You rolled your eyes but still done as she said. Though, once you had got to the 'Avengers you haven't touched' list, there was only one name.
"And? Avengers you haven't touched?" Kya persisted.
"Natasha." You mumbled.
"See!" Kya yelled triumphantly, drawing the attention of an elderly couple a few tables away, "The only Avenger you have not touched is Natasha, and as far as I'm aware, you're still suffering from some lovely soulmate pain. So, I will stay on the Y/N and Natasha ship until you either confirm or deny that she is or isn't your soulmate."
You were seconds away from throwing Kya out of a window.
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It had been a normal day in the MedBay, the Avengers were away on a mission so you and the few other doctors had been preparing just in case any injures occurred.
"Y/N?" One of the nurses called. You turned around to answer when you felt an agonizing pain in your stomach that made you clutch your stomach and bend over in pain. "Y/N? Are you okay?" You heard someone ask, but for the life of you, you could do nothing except clutch your stomach and bite your lip until it started bleeding. You couldn't focus on anything except the complete and utter agony rippling throughout your body right now. It had never been this bad before, something must have gone terribly wrong on your soulmate's side.
The AI's voice was the only thing able to make you come back to reality a bit, "Captain Rogers has asked me to send a message along to the MedBay: They will be arriving in 5 minutes, and Agent Romanoff requires immediate assistance. She is in critical condition and has been stabbed in the abdomen."
That got your attention. You blinked once, processing Jarvis's words, before you looked down at your own stomach and then up at the nurse sanding in front of you, who seemed to have got the same idea. No. It can't be. Kya was going to love this.
You straightened up once you heard hectic voices in the hallway. The Avengers rushed in, Natasha being supported between Steve and Tony. The sight of Natasha Romanoff almost limp, blood completely soaked through the front of her suit, and her skin as white as a sheet was incredibly jarring. Two of the nurses ran forward to support her and place her gently on a bed. You ran over, and took a deep breath - this was the moment of truth. You placed your hand on her arm, and the air was nearly took out of your lungs when the agonizing pain your were in seconds ago completely disappeared. Oh my God, Natasha Romanoff was your soulmate. Your mind was reeling, but you pushed the thoughts aside to focus on the actual matter at hand: saving your soulmate before she died.
The nurses shooed the rest of the Avengers out, despite their protests, and you got to work.
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You were stood outside of medical hours later talking to Steve, Natasha currently asleep inside, "Luckily, it didn't hit any vital organs. She did lose quite a bit of blood though, so we'll keep her in MedBay for a week just to monitor her vitals and make sure everything's okay. No strenuous activity and especially no missions for at least a month, we want to make sure she's completely healed before she puts her body through any rigorous activity. I know it's Natasha and she will not like to hear that, but it is what it is I guess." You explained to Steve, who nodded along.
"Yeah, she is definitely not going to want to hear that. Can I go see her?"
"She's currently asleep, so no can do, sorry Captain. I'll make sure to tell Jarvis to tell you when she wakes up, though." Steve nodded once more before turning around and walking away.
You took a deep breath, the events of the day finally catching up with you as you sat on the ground, your legs barely able to hold your weight any longer. You were exhausted, but your mind was reeling too much and you wanted to make sure Natasha was okay. You were not sure how to break the news to Natasha that you were her soulmate. You didn't even know when, or how to, or if she'd be pleased to hear it. You hadn't told Kya either, because you really weren't in the mood to deal with her 'I told you so' attitude.
You'd need to tell her when she woke up, just get it over with, it'd be better to tell her sooner than keeping it a secret. You doubted she would like that. "Stupid red string of fate." You grumbled angrily.
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Natasha slept the entire night, unlike you, who was currently surviving on 5 cups of coffee and an energy bar even though it was only 7am. Despite the Avenger's telling you to go home and get some sleep, you couldn't. You couldn't just leave her. You had to be sure she was okay. It didn't matter that another doctor could easily take over watching her if you had asked, you wouldn't be able to sleep peacefully without knowing whether she was okay or not.
You were busy sorting out the supply cabinet, trying desperately to keep yourself occupied as the sunrise started to shine through the windows, illuminating the MedBay in an early morning glow. Then the sound of rustling could be heard, followed by a hoarse voice, "Y/N?"
You pivoted around as Natasha called your name, making your way over to her, "Yes? Is everything okay? Do you need anything?"
"Maybe a glass of water and some painkillers?" She asked and you nodded before going to get them. You came back minutes later and set them on the drawer beside the bed.
She tried to sit up, wincing in pain, before you darted forward to assist her, "Careful. You don't want to rip your stitches." She nodded as you handed her the glass and pills, which she gratefully accepted.
"I hate being treated as a wounded puppy." She murmured after she had swallowed the painkillers.
"You literally got stabbed in the stomach and I am a doctor. It is technically my job to treat you with the utmost care. It's not that you're weak or fragile, because you certainly aren't, I just don't want to hurt you further."
You took a deep breath, now was as best a time as any to break the news, and if it didn't go well, you could always just run away, "Also, there's something else that happened yesterday."
Natasha raises an eyebrow at you before you continued, "Um. So. I'm your soulmate? Surprise?" Her eyes widened a fraction, mouth parting in shock slightly.
"What?" Was all she said.
"Sorry, okay, I really don't know how to do this. But, yeah? I'm your soulmate? I kind of figured it out when it felt like I had got stabbed in the stomach, and then I touched you and it went away. Because you know, that's how it works. I'm sorry I'm rambling, but I just thought you should know?" You were about to die from embarrassment, and it certainly didn't help as the minutes went by and Natasha didn't speak. She didn't even move. You weren't sure she was even breathing.
You sighed, "I'm sorry, I'll just go. Just um, say if you need anything." You turned around to leave.
"No. Wait. Stay."
You turned around again to face her as she ran a hand through her hair, "I'm sorry. I should've said something sooner. I'm not mad at you or anything, It's just. I didn't think I'd actually have a soulmate?" She said, her voice uncertain, "I don't think I even deserve one. So, this is just- hard for me I guess. It's not you, don't worry. I'm just not really good with feelings, or the whole love thing. Can we maybe.. take it slow? Start off as friends first?" Her gaze was uncertain and scared as she stared at you.
You nodded, and her face instantly morphed into relief, "Yeah, we can take it slow. I'd like that."
Not many people found their soulmate, but you were one of the lucky ones who did, and you couldn't be happier.
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luthorgarbage · a month ago
Natasha Romanoff x reader
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“Ohmygosh.” You breathlessly whispered as you stared at your wife walking around the kitchen. You were seated on the couch with Wanda and Steve, giving you a clear view of the kitchen.
“Huh?” Wanda replied, breaking her gaze from her book and onto you. She became even more confused seeing you so flabbergasted.
“Hello?” The witch resorted to sticking her finger in your mouth, causing you to dramatically gag and push her away.
“Natasha walks like a penguin.” You finally spit out, a grin forming on your face. Wanda looked towards her direction and giggled.
The Black Widow was waddling.
Natasha officially became seven months pregnant last week. Between her raging hormones and insane cravings, you were feeling bittersweet that there was only two months left.
Steve immediately scrambled to grab his phone and try to record her little waddles.
Keyword. Tried.
“Wanda where’s the camera app?” Steve shoved her book out of her lap and replaced it with his phone.
“It’s right there Steve.” Wanda tapped on the app and pressed record.
Steve quickly pointed his phone towards the redhead and laughed out loud when he realized Natasha was trying to reach for something in the cupboards.
You got up and walked towards the kitchen.
“Whatcha doing?” You sounded out the ‘g’ and leaned against the wall.
“Help me, you tall jackass.” Natasha grunted, on her tippy toes and reaching as high as she can.
Pushing yourself off the wall, you spun your wife around and easily lifted her on the countertops. Her legs were swinging back and forth as she waited. You grabbed the pop tarts and handed them to her.
She grabbed your collar and pulled you in, giving you a thank you kiss. You wrapped your arms around her and leaned on her, choosing to stay with her while she munched on her snack.
“Steve was recording you earlier.” You mumbled into the crook of her neck. Her swinging stopped for a second and then resumed.
“Why’s that?” Natasha’s tone should’ve set you off, but you didn’t care with the way she was scratching the back of your neck. You were content feeling the baby occasionally kick against you.
“Cuz you were waddling.”
Her green eyes hardened as she started down Steve.
Feeling someone stare at him, Steve paused his actions. He was trying to send the video to Tony, but couldn’t find the app.
He looked up and gulped when he caught the eyes of the redhead. Steve looked at Wanda for help, but she was too engrossed in her book. Fearing the worst, Steve gasped and ran out the living room. No doubt heading towards Bucky’s room.
“I still got it.” Natasha smiled and went back to eating.
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natashaismylove · a month ago
G!p nat gets jealous and fucks reader on a mission?
A/N: yesss!
Possessive |N. Romanoff
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Summary: Natasha can’t stand seeing the reader flirting with someone else, even if it’s for a mission.
Warnings: smut, g!p Natasha(she has a penis), unprotected sex, dirty talk, degrading, praise, fingering, bondage, knife, blood, exhibition kink, biting, orgasm control, begging kink, possessiveness kink, pet names(detka, bunny)
I knew exactly what my role was on this mission and I planned to do it perfectly. I had read everything I needed to know about this guy and made up a personality that I knew would get me the information I was set out to find. Only problem was my overprotective girlfriend who refused to let me go on a mission by myself, even though I had been an agent for years.
Natasha was worried I would get hurt so she managed to convince Fury to let her come with me. I couldn't see her in the room but I had no doubt she could and was currently looking at me, watching my every move.
I gave a flirtatious smile towards the man in front of me and slightly bent forward to come closer to him. “So, what exactly is it you do?”
He let out a small chuckle, like it should be obvious. “Well let’s just say I’m a leader.”
“Of what?” I tilted my head a little.
“Nothing a gorgeous girl like you should have to worry about.”
I hummed with a smile. “Well I’m interested in getting to know you.”
He gave a small nod. “My organisation takes care of…problems that arise with the modern day government.”
“Problems like?”
“Certain types of people.”
I laid my hand on his thigh and smirked. “Am I a problem?”
He shook his head with a grin. “Ah sweetheart, you could never be a problem. Not in the slightest…” he finished off by looking me up and down, clearly eyeing my body that was wrapped in a tight fitting dress. He spent some extra time keeping his gaze on the slit in the dress that showed off my thigh, cut just low enough to hide the knife I had strapped to it.
“Should I take that as a compliment?”
“Absolutely. With looks like that I’m sure everything you've ever heard has been a compliment.”
I chuckled and dragged my hand higher up on his thigh. “You’re making me blush.”
He took hold of my jaw and leaned his face closer to mine. “I can make you even redder.”
A gunshot went through the room causing panic to arise in the crowd. People were screaming and running away and the guy I had been talking to looked around the room. A hand grabbed my arm and I was quickly dragged away, leaving the guy to turn back around confused as he scanned for me but with no luck.
I was pushed into a closet and the door closed with a bang before I heard the click of the lock. The light turned on and an angry Natasha stared at me. I glared back at her and threw my hands up in frustration. “What the hell?! It was going great, I was so close to getting him away alone!”
“And you’d let him what? Fuck you? Is that how far you’d go for some information?” she spat.
I scoffed in disbelief. “That’s what you think of me?”
“Well I don’t know what to think when you have your hand on his thigh and his face all up in yours.” she was seething.
“I was doing my job! I’ve read up on him, he’s an egotistical narcissist, I was simply playing with his ego by making him believe I was interested! It’s the oldest fucking trick in the book!”
She shook her head. “God, you infuriate me sometimes.”
“Says the person who just destroyed this whole mission by fucking shooting. Are you that insecure?”
She slowly brought her glare back to my face and tilted her head a little before breathing out. In a second my back was against a wall and my hands were pinned to the sides of my head and she was so close to my face our noses were touching. “Insecure? Not at all. Possessive.” I kept my posture and face stern and didn't let my angry expression fall. “No way in hell I’m letting someone else touch what's mine.”
She spun me around and pushed the front of my body against the wall and held my hands behind my back, the side of my face pressed into the cold wall. She unclasped her belt from her suit and tied it around my hands. Her hand slipped into the slit of my dress and grabbed the knife that was holstred to my thigh before bringing it to my panties. She leaned her forehead against the side of mine and made a cut over the side of my panties, then repeated the motion on the other side.
As my now ruined panties hit the ground her fingers found my clit quickly and pressed against it. She rubbed her hard cock against my ass through her pants and groaned a little. “Any other time and I would’ve taken my time to enjoy you in this dress, take you all in…too bad you acted like a fucking slut.”
I gasped a little as she circled my clit slowly, still keeping a lot of pressure on it. “I-...I was just doing what I was supposed to do-”
“Nuh uh uh.” she shushed me. “I’m giving you the chance to be a good girl so I suggest you close your mouth and take it.” I turned my head so my forehead was against the wall. “So, what will it be?”
“I’ll be your good girl…” I mumbled.
She hummed. “That’s what I like to hear.”
Her fingers played with my clit before sliding further down and dipping into my hole. I let out a small moan and she started to slowly push her fingers in and out of me. I felt something sharp against my collarbone and looked down to see my knife in her hand, pressed against my chest.
“Oh detka, this’ll be a lot of fun.” she smiled against the back of my neck before slipping her fingers out of me. She bunched up my dress with one hand and held it up against my thigh before taking the hand with the knife away from me. I heard her pants unzip and felt her cock hit my ass before the knife was placed onto my neck. She slipped her cock against my centre a few times while groaning in my ear.
“Fuck…” I sighed.
“You're getting desperate, huh?” she said, almost a little proudly. “You want my cock?”
“Tasha, I swear to god if you don-”
I moaned loudly as she pushed herself fully into me. She pressed the knife a little harder against my throat and leaned in close to my face. “If I don’t what?”
“Oh my god…”
She chuckled darkly. “Feel how full of me you are? You feel how every inch of my cock is stuffed inside of you? Betcha can feel every single ridge and vein as your pussy pulses around me.” she breathed out.
“Fuck me, Tash~” I pushed a little back against her.
“Plan on it, bunny.” she pulled out only to thrust back in quickly, setting a fast pace immediately. “Let’s see how much you can talk back when you’re all cockdumb.”
I was a moaning mess already and we had barely started. My hands were still tied behind my back and she had a knife against my throat, I was truly all at her disposal. “Ah~ fuck me like that! Yes!”
She angled the knife a little upwards and made a small slit and watched a drop of blood trickle out. She leaned forwards and licked the blood before attaching her lips to my throat, sucking marks onto it. She kissed up my neck and bit my earlobe before dragging it slowly with her teeth. “So you can behave, but only when you get cock, huh? I’ll take note of that. Maybe next time you don’t listen in meetings I’ll just bend you over and fuck you on the table as everyone watches. Maybe then you’ll pay attention.”
I whimpered a little. “Oh god~”
She chuckled and bit my jawline before kissing it. “That turns you on? You’re that much of a whore?”
Her cock slipped in and out of me and my brain had turned all foggy. My mouth opened as desperate noises fell out from the feeling of the head dragging against my walls.
She pressed the knife against my cheek. “Who’s my good girl?”
I closed my eyes. “I am~”
“Mhm. How does my cock feel in you, bunny?”
“So good~ so so good!”
“How did I end up with such a needy and desperate whore? I must have done something really good to get to fuck you whenever I please.” she smirked against the side of my head. “Good karma I guess.”
“Oh god-” I groaned and let my head fall back a little.
“Oh, someone wants to cum.” she stated teasingly.
“Please, please, can I?”’
She clicked her tongue. “Begging now, are we?”
“I need it so bad, please~”
She hummed a little, like she was in deep thought. “I don’t know…” she dragged out her sentence.
“Tasha, I’ll do anything, I swear!” tears filled my eyes as I was so close.
“Admit that you’re all mine. Make me believe it.” she breathed out.
I whined a little. “I’m yours, I belong to you! I’m all fucking yours, no one else gets to touch me, only you! You own me~”
“I’ll count down. Cum on any other number than zero and you’ll regret it for weeks.”
I nodded quickly.
“Five.” She increased her pace.
“Four.” I could hear and feel her skin slapping against mine as she fucked me.
“Three…” I could tell she was close as well.
“God- two…” she was loosing her rythm, fucking into me relentlessly.
“Zero. Cum for me.” she commanded and I finally let go. I moaned loudly as my orgasm hit and the pleasure only increased when I felt her cum spill into me. I was gasping and had been reduced to a blabbering mess as she rocked into me. Her moans in my ear helped prolong my orgasm until she stilled inside of me.
She pulled out and untied the belt around my hands before pulling up her pants and putting the belt on. She let go of my dress and turned me around, looking at my fucked out face. She fixed my hair a little before kissing my cheek. “You’re gonna walk out to the surveillance car the team is sitting in with my cum spilling out of you.” she gripped my jaw. “Don’t say a word until we get back to the tower. I have more things I want to do with you.”
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nat-romannoff · 3 months ago
To call her mine
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Summary: Five times in which Natasha gets jealous, and the one time where you ease her worries.
Requested by anon: May I request an oblivious reader to all the flirting of other people and is dating Nat. Can you make it 5+1 and kinda jealous trope (I just love reading those) - 5 times Nat is Jealous but won't admit it and 1 time she tells R and R reassures her.
A/N: I think I may have made it a bit different from the request? But anyway I hope you like it <3. Probably one of the cutest things I've written. They're in love, your honor.
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The first time that Natasha ever felt the nagging feeling at the pit of her stomach was on a late afternoon training session. The orange glow of the sun was illuminating the whole gym through the massive windows, Natasha was sitting on one of the weight machines, already done with her training, and just waiting for her girlfriend.
Her girlfriend. The thought brought a smile to the spy's lips, it still felt surreal sometimes. She never really imagined herself finding someone to call her own, or just never allowed the hope to build up. Yet here she was, admiring her girl's body as she sparred with Sam.
With one final blow, you knocked Sam down, your body partially above his as you used one of your hands to keep yourself up. "And we're even, Wilson, told you I would beat you this time." You said with a smirk as you gathered your breathing.
"Guess you're not so bad, and neither is the view." He gave you a teasing chuckle as he took the hand you offered to help him up.
You just smacked him on the shoulder, knowing that your friend was only joking. But Natasha felt a slight frown forming on her face, her fists tightening slightly around her water bottle. It was just a silly comment, it had to be. Sam wouldn't flirt with her girlfriend, right?
And yet Natasha was unable to contain the uneasiness that filled her chest, her knee started bumping up and down, and she had the urge to take her girl's hand and walk away.
"Hey, you waited for me." Your voice was filled with adoration as you approached Natasha and gave her a tender kiss on the forehead.
Natasha shivered at the sudden display of affection, a soft blush coming to her cheeks. The relationship was new, but she knew she would never be completely used to the way you treated her, with how you loved her. And Natasha fell for you a little bit more every day.
The second time, Natasha realized that the feeling could be jealousy. She never considered herself to be a jealous person, but then again, she never really had anyone to be jealous of.
The two of you were attending one of Tony's beneficial parties, it was a big event, full of rich people trying to impress each other. The venue was huge and absolutely screamed high society.
Natasha was never a big fan of these parties, but when she saw your figure coming towards her, she smiled. You were holding two drinks in your hands, your black dress hugging your body just right made Natasha open her mouth in awe of your beauty for the tenth time that night.
However, she wasn't the only one that noticed said beauty. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see two men eyeing your body up and down as you passed in front of them, making Natasha straighten her posture and walk a few extra steps forward to meet you halfway.
Without so much of a warning, Natasha closed the remaining gap between you, her lips colliding with yours in a loving kiss while her hand came to rest on your waist, almost making you drop your drinks.
You giggled once you parted, your nose still brushing Nat's. "What was that for? Not that I'm complaining." You smirked and Natasha smiled back.
"I just missed you."
"I was gone for five minutes." You handed Nat her drink with a raised eyebrow, and you two walked towards your friends.
"I know." Natasha took a sip of her drink and planted a sweet kiss on your temple, shooting a dangerous look towards the men that were now intensely looking down at their empty glasses.
The third time that the feeling came, Natasha was having a nice breakfast with you at the nearby coffee shop. You were sitting in front of one another, just enjoying the fresh morning air and each other's presence.
You were going on about this new movie that came out and how Natasha just had to watch it with you. And the spy had a lovesick smile on her face as she focused her gaze on her girlfriend, her fingers lightly tracing your knuckles.
Natasha realized that she always loved to watch you, whether you were talking about something you like, cooking, or training. She wanted to commit every detail to memory, every different smile, and movement. Just like when someone wants to take a picture of a precious moment.
"I think you would like it." You said in a low tone, tilting your head a little bit to the side with a content smile on your face. You knew Nat was staring, you always thought it was adorable.
Once again Natasha was caught red-handed, a shy smile came to her lips and she chuckled, playing around with your fingers. "I'm sure I would."
Soon enough your orders arrived, Natasha removed her hand from yours to grab her coffee and said a quiet thank you to the young waiter.
Your order was placed in front of you as well, but with an extra donut beside it. "I'm sorry but I didn't order this one." You said referring to the pink dessert.
"It's on the house for the pretty lady." The waiter said with a polite voice but a rather bold wink as well.
With a small smile, you thanked him for it. You could be innocent sometimes, not realizing people's malice right away, and ended up interpreting some actions simply as a nice gesture.
But Natasha was fuming, because she saw the way he checked you out, she knew what he really wanted. Her glare stayed fixed on his back until she couldn't see him anymore, contemplating the ups and downs of voicing her frustrations.
"So nice of him." You commented as you took a small bite of the donut. Your eyes roamed through the features of the woman in front of you, a tiny smirk on your lips.
"Yeah, nice." Natasha grumbled, but the gentle touch of a hand above hers forced her mind to focus back on what mattered.
The fourth time the feeling made its presence in Natasha's chest, it was a little after 10 in the morning. She never slept for that long, but the day before was just exhausting and you insisted that she didn't put on an alarm and let her body rest.
When she woke up and felt an empty space beside her on the bed, her heart sunk a little because she loved to wake up and enjoy a couple of minutes of a sleepy snuggle with her girlfriend. But she knew you promised to finish a job with Steve earlier this morning.
Natasha bumped into her girlfriend in the kitchen, apparently, you had just arrived. She smiled when your eyes met, she knew her hair was probably a mess and her face still had a sleepy look, but she didn't care.
"Morning, love." You had your arms around Natasha's neck in an instant, placing kisses all over her face in the sweetest way and hugging her close.
Like second nature Nat's hands found their place on her girl's waist, her heart melting at your greeting. "Morning babe." She whispered back for only you to hear, knowing her voice was unusually shy.
"Your coffee is here your highness." Bucky's voice interrupted your little moment and all too soon you let go of her.
"Oh Buck you're such a gem, thank you." You walked towards your friend and grabbed the mug he offered to you with a grateful smile.
"And this.." Bucky handed you a plate of perfectly made pancakes. "..Is because I'm nice."
"You're the best, I am starving." You gave him a small side hug and sat at the table to enjoy your meal. Bucky had been a sweetheart and made you breakfast because, actually, you were covering for him on the job this morning.
But Natasha didn't know that, and her heart constricted in an odd way at how happy and genuine your smile was, she felt selfish for not wanting to share you, possessive even. But you were the only person that Natasha was ever able to call hers, and the thought of not having that made her stomach drop and her hands shake.
She shook her head and poured coffee on a cup for herself, sitting beside her girlfriend. "I can make pancakes too."
You were about to tease Nat, a smile already on your face, but when your eyes settled on her, the smile dropped slightly. Natasha was looking down at her cup but her gaze seemed distant, her finger tapping the porcelain in a soft rhythm.
You extended your hand and grabbed Natasha's in a tender hold. You brought the hand to your lips and kissed her fingers. "I know you can, and I bet they're even more delicious."
On the fifth time, the feeling came heavier.
Natasha made sure to finish her training session extra quick, she had a little bounce on her step and the ghost of a smile on her face at the thought of spending the night cuddling with you and watching the movie you mentioned a couple of days ago.
But when she reached the living room, she halted on her steps automatically, feeling a lump forming on her throat.
You were so beautiful, Natasha thought, you always were. With your ripped jeans, a shirt that belonged to Nat, and a leather jacket on, you were glowing. But your arm was hooked around Wanda's, and you looked like you were going somewhere.
"You guys heading out?" Why was her voice so small, Natasha wondered and cursed herself at the same time.
"Yeah, Wanda wanted to go shopping and asked me to come with." You smiled as you stopped in front of Natasha, Wanda already walking ahead towards the garage.
"Oh." Was all that Natasha could utter out amidst the feelings engulfing her throat. Her eyes were downcast, avoiding yours.
"Is that okay?" You asked, obviously noticing Nat's state as your hand already rested on your girlfriend's forearm, your eyes with a glint of worry.
"Yes, you just... Said that you wanted to watch that movie tonight." Natasha did her best to hide the annoying tremble on her voice. It was nothing really, you were just going out with a friend and you could always watch the movie tomorrow. But her heart felt different, the familiar fear of loneliness was making its presence more apparent today. Ever since Natasha felt the touch of love, and was more and more entangled in the reality of having someone, the thought of being abandoned again became too much to bear.
"Oh Nat, it totally slipped my mind, I'm so sorry." You said, and Natasha saw in your eyes that it was the truth. "I'll just tell Wanda I'm gonna stay."
"No." Nat gave you a genuine smile, shaky, but genuine. "It's okay, you can go. We'll watch it tomorrow."
Your fingers intertwined with hers, and your other hand came up to put a strand of hair behind Nat's ear. "Are you sure?"
"I am."
With every little moment, Natasha could feel her heart grow more uneasy. The fear and the doubt made her chest feel heavy. On one side, she felt like an idiot for letting herself think like that, to even think of the possibility of you leaving her for someone else. On the other side, she's never had a relationship like this, she's never loved anyone like this, she never stopped wondering if she was really being enough.
Today Tony organized yet another gathering, this one was smaller though, happening inside the Avengers compound to selected people.
And Natasha was just coming back from the bathroom when her eyes found the one she called her own. Her feet stopped moving, she looked from one side to the other feeling a little lost on what to do and looking for an answer she knew she wasn't going to find.
She gulped and looked at you one last time, her gaze held longing but her mind was way too cluttered, she needed air. Moving through the crowd, Natasha found her way to a secluded balcony. She leaned on the railings and allowed her thoughts to take over.
You were faking interest in the conversation, smiling a bit here and there. You let out a forced chuckle when the man told you about his failed experiment, one of his hands resting on your shoulder. But when you saw a flash of red hair walking away from you, you excused yourself from the conversation.
"There you are." Your sweet voice made Natasha jump slightly, but she didn't turn her head.
As soon as you came to stand beside her though, shoulder brushing hers, Natasha felt your warmth. She closed her eyes and moved her head to rest gently on your shoulder, her hand grabbing yours and intertwining your fingers. She always craved your touch, your proximity. It was inevitable.
You gave Natasha's hand a light squeeze and rested your cheek on top of her head. "What's wrong love? You've been different these past few days." Your voice was quiet and gentle, giving Nat the opportunity to not answer if she wasn't ready.
After a few moments of silence, Natasha raised her head to meet your eyes with her own. Her green eyes were shining with unshed tears in the moonlight. "I keep wondering if..." Nat's voice got caught up in her throat, she was never good with voicing her feelings. Her eyes were moving from one point to another, never able to focus, her stomach twisted with anxiety.
But you knew the person that held your heart. With a gentle hand behind Natasha's head and the other one at her waist, you guided her body towards your own, closing the distance between you in an embrace full of love and care. Your fingers tenderly moved amidst Nat's hair, and your grip on her waist was strong but comforting. "It's okay."
It was enough to make Natasha melt against you. Her body surrendered to your touch and she let out a sigh of relief as if she had been craving this all night. She nuzzled her head in the crook of your neck, her hands clutching the fabric of your clothes to bring you impossibly closer. Now with her eyes closed, the words felt less heavy.
You pulled away, your lips quirking up when you heard a tiny noise of protest coming from Nat. You brushed away the few strands of hair that had fallen in front of Nat's face, then moved your hands to her cheeks, your thumbs caressing her skin. You kept your gaze steady until Natasha was ready to meet your eyes. You could feel the slight shake on the hand that was still resting on your waist.
"I keep wondering if... Someone else comes to you, and I'm not enough to make you stay." If Natasha wasn't literally pressed against you, you probably wouldn't have heard it, by how small and vulnerable her voice was.
Natasha could always look so strong on the outside, you sometimes forgot she had this vulnerable side too.
"Natasha, I can promise you, that this will never happen." Your words were clear and well-spoken, with raw honesty. "Because it's you, you're it for me. You're the only person that I love." You smiled and rested your forehead against hers, your noses brushing.
Natasha's breathing was unsteady, the overwhelming truth of loving and being loved consumed her chest and eased her worries. She moved her head forward slightly, blindly searching for your lips.
"And I'll remind you of that every day. I love you, and you only. Always, okay?" You whispered against her lips, one of your hands moving to the back of her neck, playing with her hair.
A single tear escaped Natasha's eye, but she was smiling. She nodded and let out a shaky breath, bumping your noses. "I love you too."
Natasha closed the remaining space between you, her lips finally finding the ones of her girl.
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3
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