#widow!reader

[saberlight1]

the red means i love you — frank castle

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

warnings: violence! like a lot of violence.. and detailed accounts of said violence, reader goes insane, mentions of murder, trauma, reader is a past widow for the red room, Y/N usage, kidnapping, established relationship, fluff, standard the punisher warnings.

authors note: hii theree! so this one is kind of insane, i may have went just a tad bit overboard, but y’know. thank you anon for this request that this fic is based on! this story is heavily based on the song, ‘the red means i love you’ by madds buckley, so give it a listen if you’d like. much love to you all, i hope you all enjoy this !

masterlist

You panted, your hand pulling the machete out of the last man’s chest. Your vision was still hazy, and you didn’t exactly feel like you were in your body.

But, that’s how you always felt when you killed.

As you gathered your bearings, your eyes began to dart around the room— and you realized how many men you had just taken out.

“Motherfucker,” You groaned as the pain began to set in due to the knife that was currently in your thigh. One of them must of done it when you were distracted, and your adrenaline was far too high for you to register it.

You no longer had that problem, it hurt like a bitch. But, you’ve had worse— a lot worse, and you could handle it. So you did was you were trained to do: push the emotions and pain away get the damn job done.

You had to. For Frank.

You see, he was taken by God knows who. You and Frank had no shortage of enemies, so you weren’t exactly sure who you were even invading, but you didn’t care. You knew they had Frank.

You were getting him back. You didn't care how many lives you had to take, you would do it all without second thought.

One of them had his sawed-off shotgun, they tried to shoot you with it. So you knew he was here. You just didn’t know exactly where.

And you’d go through hell and back to get to him.

So with a sharp inhale, you began to walk over to one of your victims, snatching the shotgun from his cold grip. A new sense of rage washed over you when you held the cold metal in your hands— they tried to take Frank from you.

You couldn’t let that stand.

Anger flooded your bloodstream as you began to stalk over to the hallway in front of you, cocking the shotgun along the way. You looked damn insane—you were covered in blood, a knife sticking out your thigh, your machete in one hand and Frank’s shotgun in the other.

One thing was for sure: you were out for fuckin’ blood.

You kicked open the first door you saw with your good leg, and inside were 3 men. Before they could even get a chance to react, you let the first round of bullets fly at one of them, the man dead instantly.

You narrowed your eyes at the two remaining men, putting the machete in your belt, you cocked the shotgun and aimed directly towards them. “Where the fuck is Frank.”

“I–I don’t know what you’re talking about,” One of the men stuttered out.

You scoffed, shooting that same man in the shin. “You think I’m fuckin’ playin’ around? I said, where the fuck is he?! What did you do with Frank?!” You shouted angrily, cocking the gun once more.

The man cried out, falling to his knees as his partner put his hands up in surrender. “He’s in the building..” He murmured, but you could see the man you shot reaching for the gun that the other had so obviously in the back of his pants.

Rolling your eyes, you shot the man who was still unharmed in the head. “Fuckin’ useless. I’ll find him myself.” You muttered to mainly yourself before grabbing your machete once more and stomping over to the last one.

“No, no, no!” He begged, backing away as far as he could from you. “Killing me won’t do anything. You’ll never get through all of us. You and Castle are as good as dead,” He spat and you only gave a sinister smile in return before you dove the machete into his chest.

After he was dead, you took your machete and wiped it clean of the blood before storing it back in your belt. You walked out the room without another thought as you continued your walk down the hallway, Frank’s shotgun tight in your grasp as you pointed it for precaution.

The next room you walked into contained 5 men, and then 3 after you let your itchy trigger finger take over.

3 guns were pointed at you in a instant, and you smirked in delight. "Drop them now!" He nodded towards your weapons. With a smirk still on your face, you let your machete clattered to the ground, but still kept Frank's shotgun in your hand. If you were going to die, you wanted it to happen with at least something that tied to Frank.

Staring them all down, you tried to wait for one of them to make the first strike— but eventually you got bored.

You hit one of the men over the head with the shotgun as you kicked one of the other one’s knee in. Without thinking, you grabbed the knife that was still painfully lodged in your thigh and pulled it out-- causing a sharp roar of pain to leave your lips. And with a menacing stare, you used that very same knife to slash the third man's throat.

In a flash of motions you turned to the next man and shoved the knife into his throat, causing him to stumble back with fearful eyes before dropping dead.

That left the last one that you practically bitch-slapped with the gun. He stared at you with wide, rage filled eyes before he grabbed you by your neck, throwing you into the table next to you. Your now open wound on your thigh got caught on a nail on the way, only tearing it open further. A cry of pure pain left your lips at the act, but you recovered quickly, turning to the man with a evil glare.

You let out a yell as you tackled him to the floor, letting all of your anger out as you brutally laid punch after punch to his face until he was unrecognizable. You let out another broken cry as you left one last hit to his bloodied face.

Ragged breaths left your lips as came back down to reality, shakily standing up. Your knuckles were bruised and cracked, and you knew it would hurt like a bitch later, but as of now, you really didn't care. It would all be worth it in the end. So, without another thought you grabbed your machete and the shotgun and headed out the room.

There was only one room left. It was at the very end of the hallway, and you silently prayed Frank was in there. At this point, after all the people you had just killed and fought— you were fucking tired, and quite frankly; fed the fuck up.

You cocked the gun with nothing in your brain other than bloodlust and kicked open the door harshly. “Where the fuck is he?!” You bellowed as you stormed in, gun raised. You had tunnel vision, seeing nothing over than the targets before you.

8 or 9 men were scattered around the room, and before you knew it bullets were flying everywhere. With wide eyes you dove down for cover behind a fallen table, and on the way down you were grazed by several bullets. Your hand flew up to the blood you felt trickling down your ribs, a low groan leaving your lips. You fought tears of pain as you pulled yourself together, reminding yourself of the goal: Get to Frank.

“Come out, now!” One of them yelled, and it only fueled your anger further.

“Fine.” You growled, standing up and shooting the first two men in front of you. Standing up, you ran to the side of the wall where their bullets couldn’t hit you. You let out a small laugh to yourself— you had to admit, you kind of missed this.

The chaos of it all.

You were raised in the chaos of this— you were brought up in the Red Room, killing people all around the globe. Yelena Belova, one of your fellow past widows, had broken you out some time ago and you tried to give the life up, but it seemed it was in your DNA.

Who were you to fight that?

You shook the thought away just as quickly as it arrived— you had more pressing issues right now.

You pulled the pistol out of your boot, peaking around the corner and picking off 3 men, leaving now 4.

“You fuckin’ crazy bitch!” One of them roared, running at you with a dagger.

“Fuck off!” You screamed back, blocking his attempted strike by grabbing his wrist and twisting his arm, the man now yelling out in pain. He dropped the dagger that was clutched in his hand, while you caught with your free hand, not hesitating to plunge it into his heart.

“Y/N?!” You heard that familiar voice yell, causing you freeze. His call made a soft smile spread across your features, but at the same time ignited that dedication to get to him now.

You grabbed Frank’s shotgun, cocking it and getting your pistol in your other hand. And with a devilish glare, you turned the corner and proceeded to pick off the rest of the men that remained.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you realized they were all dead. Turning on your heel, you ran to room in the back that was connected to the room you had been in, throwing open the door urgently.

“Frank,” You practically whispered. He was bound a chair by chains, his face bruised and bloodied.

“Holy shit.” He murmured, taking in your current state. You didn’t know what you looked like, but you were sure it was nothing short of horrific. You were covered head to toe in a mixture of your own blood and your victim's, wounds and bruises littering your entire body. "Christ, woman, what the fuck happened out there?" He asked with a worried tone.

You aimed your pistol at his chains. “Don’t move.” You spoke gently, yet firm. He nodded, giving you the okay to take the shot. Once you did, he was up and bringing you into his arms almost immediately.

The weapons in your hands clattered to the ground in an instant as you let yourself melt in his arms. You were exhausted. Due to your search for Frank and also just your pure anxiety in being away from him, you had barely slept in the past couple days. That definitely came back to bite you in the ass, and on top of it all, you were in a lot of pain. The kisses Frank was leaving to the side of your head made you feel a lot better, though.

You pulled back just a bit to cup his jaw, your eyes scanning his injuries. “Are you okay?”

He let out a dry chuckle before turning his hand slightly to leave a kiss to your palm. “Baby, you are in no position to be askin’ me that right now.” His hands came up to cradle to your face, and you nestled your face into his palm. "Are you okay?"

You managed to give him a smile. “I'm better now.” You let out a shaky breath. Now that you had found Frank, the pain really began to set in. You wouldn’t let yourself feel all of the pain until you knew you were safe— and you now knew that Frank had you. “They’re all dead.” You told him. "I killed them all."

“Damn,” He licked his lips, staring down at you. “And here I was thinkin’ no one was comin’ for me.”

“You should know by now I’ll always come for you.” You expressed, leaning up to connect your lips. You didn’t care if you were covered in blood, or that Frank had been tied to a chair for 2 days— you missed him.

You loved him. And you would set the world on fire for him.

Once you two pulled apart, he stared into your eyes. “I fuckin’ love you.”

You giggled softly, gazing up at him lovingly. “I love you, Frank.”

#anon asks #the punisher #netflix punisher #marvel punisher #punisher #frank castle fluff #frank castle angst #frank castle x reader #frank castle #marvel #mcu #anon answered #fem!reader #widow!reader

[heartilywrites]

♡ — Leaving tonight ; H. Callahan

cw: angst, but like, a bunch of that ; avengers: endgame strong references ; avengers: infinity war final battle reference just at the beginning ; spider!hazel; black widow!reader ; mention of death

word count: 2.8k

a/n: love me some angst, this is my post ~celebrating~ endgame happening canonically now, i just happen to remember we made spider!hazel a thing and i needed to write her in the mcu timeline. . . i made peter exist at the same time as haze because,,, why not? i think they would be best friends idk. anyways, hope you enjoy!

“ 𝓐ll alone, all we know, is haunting me. . . Making it harder to breathe. ”

⠀⠀Ever had that feeling that something is about to end very very bad? Great! That was the exact feeling everyone at the battlefield had, even the most optimistic person could be doubting about the conclusion of that fight. Yeah, you were winning against the army, but that gut wrenching feeling that it may all be in vain was there, haunting you.

You fought with everything in your system, but there wasn't really much to do as a Widow besides helping to stop the alien army and hope for the more powerful avengers to stop everything from the source: Thanos. . . And then you saw wakandians disappear in dust, your heart dropped to the ground when you realized what that meant and your feet were quick to run looking for Natasha.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Please, please, please.” you begged while your eyes began to accumulate tears.

You heard your name being shouted and were fast to recognize Natasha's silhouette running to you too. An almost crushing hug was what you received, after making sure neither of you were about to disappear you look to the scene next to you. 'Oh god' the captain's voice whispered in disbelief. You lost.

And that was just the beginning, once you arrived back from Wakanda you were fast to look for your friends only to find that Brittany was the only from your group still around, both of you cried as soon as you saw each other and hugged.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Where's Hazel?” her voice asked, “I know she ran out the campus with you, didn't she?” your eyes widened.

Hazel. She and this other spider–dude went to fucking space as a stowaways when you clearly heard on the earpiece Tony's voice telling them to stay on New York, obviously neither of them listened even after your own scold while helping on the ground as much as you could.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'll be back, darling, I promise!” her voice in a robotic sound told you before losing signal with her.

You didn't know if she was alive anymore, but after the first couple weeks, you were beginning to accept the idea that she did dust away along with the other kid, Tony and the wizard dude. And you started to grief.

At least you were until one night in the compound an earthquake caught everyone's attention on a possible attack, curious your feet took you out of the building and in your visual field a spaceship appeared with a glowing woman directing it to the ground.

You were far behind from everyone, squinting your eyes to see a bit better your jaw almost fell to the floor to the sight of Tony coming down the stairs with a blue woman and. . . Wait.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hazel!” an exclamation came from you now running to help the girl, once again crying, but those were tears of relief. She hugged you tight as much as she could. “I thought I lost you.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I thought I lost you.” she repeated back on a sob, once you pushed away you saw how bad she looked. “Oh my god, Steve shaved?”

At that question, you turned your face to the captain who was talking with Tony and frowned. “I guess. . .” once again, your eyes were back at her and a sniff was heard from both of you. “Fucking idiot, I'm confiscating your web–shooters everytime we see a spaceship.”

After laughing at your comment, she gave you a weak kiss, leaning on you after a bit and you guided her steps to the building.

They did a little meeting to get the ones on space to date, your teeth were biting your bottom lip trying not to cry at the pictures of those you called your friends that weren't around anymore.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “We lost Peter.” Hazel whispered while watching the argument the two grown men had. She, just as Tony, were connected to an IV and you were on her other side holding her hand. “We lost everyone, we–.”

You calmly shushed her, your thumb was leaving caresses on her hand. “We did what we could.” you smiled weakly. “And we're going to do everything to get them back.”

And you were one to keep a promise.

The next thing the group did was trying to find Thanos, but you didn't had the right mind to go with them. You wanted to stay with Hazel and take care of her, so that's what you did; stay. You hugged Natasha while wishing them good luck, telling them to 'get that bitch's ass' as she laughed and assure you they were going to bring everyone back. . .

But then, 5 years went by.

As soon as they got back, everyone took their own way. Defeated, neither of you needed to ask what had happened, because their faces said it all.

Once Hazel got better, both of you decided to move on, try to have a normal life. Kept studying at collage with Brittany, the three of you grew closer together. Deep down you knew things really won't be back as they were, missing Josie, Isabel and PJ became something constant like breathing; the first two years you usually went to the compound to train with Nat, but after that you started to drift away from the avengers to continue with your life, she didn't stopped you at that.

Sure, you did missions once in a while, but it wasn't as much as you did before the events. Your relationship with Hazel got serious and one night, she proposed to you. Obviously you said yes, you wanted to be with her for the rest of your life if it was possible, she had been your rock all those years in work, such as you were hers and it finally felt as the universe was trying to let you two rest at least a little bit.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “We need you two, kid.” Rogers' voice was heard after his speech and a bit of silence, you were serving the dinner, passing a plate to him and one to your now fiancé, both of them smiled. “We need as many hands as possible.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I. . . I don't know, Mr. America.” Hazel was the first one to speak, you took your seat across from her.‍ “Our graduation is near, we're planning a wedding as well.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “It's our second chance, girls.” he said, his eyes moved from Hazel to you.‍ “Congrats on the wedding, by the way, but this is our only chance to get everyone back.”

Your eyes darted back to Hazel as she did the same.

Maybe you'll get your friends back, maybe they'll be here for the celebration. What else could you lose? It was something easy, he said, risky, but easy enough. Travel in time to the stones, take them to use them, bring everyone back and take them back as if they never left their timelines. Piece of cake, right?

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Are you sure you want to do this?” Hazel asked you while saving both your and her suit in a bag.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Are you?” You shot back, raising a brow her way. You sighed and walk to her side of the bed.‍ ‍ “Haze, we can get them back. Have Josie, Isabel and PJ on our day, don't you want that?” Her eyes looked down to the bag.‍ “Didn't you say you wanted to have them as best women?”

She laughed and nodded slowly.‍ “Fine, but we're only helping with the stones, yeah? Once that's done we come back home, we still need to choose between daisies or jasmines.”

You nodded with a funny smile and gave her a tiny kiss.

Once in the compound it was explain how everything would go down, where the stones have been seen and who had them at that time. It took no more than two days to get the information in order and everyone did teams; yours was the one going to Vormir and Morag, the soul and power stones.

A pretty good speech, a couple of words exchanged and a promise to come back was said by everyone before everyone started to travel.

Arriving to Morag was quite the experience, you've never been to space so looking around was almost inevitable.

A scream was heard from Hazel before kicking. . . Something similar to a rat, you laughed while taking away the white suit, underneath that it was your well–known black suit, your fiancé had her classic one without the mask.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Are we ready?” You said looking at your teammates, they nodded.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Good to go, kiddo.” Now it was your turn to nod. A small hug was received by the older man for the both of you. “Get the stone and comeback, no messing around, okay?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Yes, dad.” Hazel said jokingly, after a bit she took your hand and started to walk towards the ship.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Take care of each other!” he exclaimed, you gave him a military salute followed by an 'aye aye, captain', the doors closed.

You both looked around the ship while walking to the pilot and co–pilot seat, once buckled up, the ship itself began the trip.

Your hand was holding tight to the seat, both laughing at the speed and colors, truly an experience worth living.

When arriving to Vormir, both of you looked shocked at such landscape. Nothing like we had on earth, you thought.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Let's go, m'lady.” Hazel called for you, offering her hand, you took it with a smile. “Let's get this stone and go back home.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Easy work, we should've choose New York for a bit of a complicated level.” you said while walking.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “And miss the opportunity to come to space? Nuh–uh, maybe we should've changed planets with them.” she responded back. “This planet is way too dark, feels sad.”

A laugh fell from you mouth. Now infront of the big mountain in there, Hazel got the both of you up with webs, knowing it would take more time if you climbed the mountain.

Once at the top, you took your gun out for precaution and both sets of eyes inspected every corner they saw.

You heard a voice say your name and your father's name, at least you figured that was him since after the same voice pronounced Hazel and her father's name as a welcome later on, such jumpscare made you both be on guard ready to attack. Then you saw a. . . A man? with red face, floating. “Consider me a guide to you and all of those who seek the soul stone.”

You exchanged looks with Hazel before putting down the weapon, your fiancé never let down her guard. “Yeah? How do we get it then?” she asked, still a bit scared.

The entity floated in the middle of the two, you followed him to almost the edge. “What you seek lies in front of you,” he said while both heroes walked to see down. “In order to take the stone you must lose that what you love, an everlasting exchange.” you could feel how your heart dropped, turning back to see Hazel. “A soul for a soul.”

You walked a bit back to think about what was just said, sitting down on a rock in silence. “There has to be another way,” Hazel said after a couple of minutes in silence. “Or maybe he was joking.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I don't really think so,” you responded blinking a couple of times. “Think about it, Haze; Thanos came here with his daughter Gamora, got the stone and left without her, that has to mean something.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Maybe he lost her somewhere else, how do we know he isn't making shit up and the stone is somewhere else?” Hazel stood up from the rock, clearly stressed at the situation.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “He knows my father's name. . . I don’t even know it, I don’t think he'll be guessing if I knew him or not.” now you stood up and took her hands. “If we don't get that stone, billions of people will stay dead. . .”

She nodded sighing. “Whatever it takes, right?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Whatever it takes.” you responded with low voice. Cutting distance with her, your lips met in a sweet kiss; one filled with sadness too knowing what was about to come, regret at the thought of accepting the mission, but calm at the thought of saving people. Once you pulled away, a smile showed on your face. “I love you, Hazel, remember that, yeah?”

The girl blinked confused at your words. “Did we just thought of different endings?” she shook her head, taking your arms. “Honey, you have the wrong idea.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hazel, please, let me do this.” you almost cried, taking a step back. “I promised you that, didn't I? We're going to do everything to get them back and this is how. After everything I've done. . . This is my way to redeem all the pain I caused.”

She didn't answer, in your distraction she pinned you to the floor while shaking her head. “No, you'll tell the girls I love them.”

You were quick to change positions and stand up while pointing at her with your electric gun. “Tell them yourself, Haze.” your voice defended before shooting her, seeing how the shock did its work at keeping her down you started to make your way to the edge.

Hazel was fast enough to remove the shot from her and sit up, when trying to use her right web–shooter she realized you had covered it, but not the left one so she changed hands and shot you on the ankles making you fall. With a curse coming out of your mouth, your hands were fast to get the small knife from your belt and cut the webs as Hazel was about to reach the edge.

You ran as fast as you could just as she jumped, hugging her and shooting a gadget which you attached to her was in matter of seconds. The mutant was fast to take your wrist.

The gadget was short, and it was right on her hip so she couldn't reach you with her other hand if she wanted to.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Don't do this, please, don't do it.” she pleaded, your hand was open so if she tried to shoot another web at you with the left shooter, she'll drop you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “It's okay.” you smiled at her, with quick hand you took away her left shooter. “Let me go, it's okay, I promise.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I can't, I need you, please, don't do this.” Even with her sight blurry from the tears, Hazel was able to see how calm you were.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I love you.” your voice breathed out one last time.

Taking impulse from the rock, your feet pushed you as Hazel's grip slipped and let your wrist go.

A bloody gut wrenching scream came out of her mouth, feeling how throat hurt from said action, a lightning took her away while she called your name.

Next thing she knew, she was on a pond lying down. Sitting down, on her left hand she could feel the stone, Hazel opened her hand and tears began to stream down her cheeks at the look of the yellow infinity stone. What was she going to say know? How can she show her face back home without you by her side?

It took a couple of minutes for her to find any strength to stand up and get back to her time, but as soon as she arrived to the circle, she felt again on her knees. Completely numb, hearing the other voices muffled celebrating and asking her about you once her knees made noise.

Natasha's voice brought her back, Callahan looked up to her, tears falling from her eyes silently, she couldn't bring herself to tell her how her apprentice sacrificed herself for the stone.

So you could only imagine how she felt once the whole team won over Thanos again and brought her friends back, only for them to ask for you after hugging her and thanking for bringing them back.

Your funeral was alongside Tony's, but Hazel didn't cried, she just stood silent watching at her own ring on her hand, sitting on the stairs of the cabin.

Brittany was the one who sat next to her when she realized she wasn't inside with everyone else, they both were in complete silence.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You know. . .” she finally talked after hours of silence, hoarsely. “I just. . . I hope she knows that we did it. That we won.”

Brittany looked at her, compassionate at the way she was feeling. “She knows.” she said, passing one arm on her shoulders, Hazel leaned her head on her friend letting a couple of tears leave her eyes. “I'm sure she does.”

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #hazel bottoms #bottoms 2023 #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan angst #ruby cruz #spider!hazel callahan #widow!reader

[doudouneverte]

No Petname

a/n: i didn't want to not post anything this week so i write a little thing.

*not my GIF* (she's badass like this.Marvel bring us back our queen!!)

Natasha Romanoff x Yelena Belova x Sister!Reader; Kate Bishop x Little!Widow

summary: (i watched a lot of couple video on youtube) R prank her girlfriend because she's bored

Type: Fluff

Warning: nothing

word count: ~1257

---------

The recent week was boring in the tower; you couldn't go on a mission because you got hurt on your last mission, so after an hour on your phone, you think about something. Ten minutes later, you were in Yelena's bedroom.

"So, you want to prank your girlfriend because you're bored?" your sister asked, and you nodded. "Let's go I'm in." she said. That's why you liked Yelena; she was always ready to prank anyone, and even if she liked Kate, the brunette was clearly her favorite target. "So, what did you plan?" she asked, and you smirked.

"She should come back tonight with Clint. We don't have time to set up a big thing, so I'll try to upset her by calling her by her full name." you said, and the blonde frowned her eyebrow. "She doesn’t like when someone calls her Katherine; we will see how long she could handle this." you explained, and your sister smirked. She didn't think about something so obvious.

Later this day, you were with Yelena on the couch, watching a movie with the other Avengers in the tower, when Friday told you that Kate, your girlfriend, was back from her mission with Clint. When she came in the living room, she greeted everyone and made her way next to you.

"Hey babe, I miss you." she said before she kissed your cheek. You kissed her back, and when she started to feel at home, you shocked her.

"Hey Kate, how was your mission?" you asked her, and she frowned her eyebrow. You have stopped calling her Kate since you started dating.

"Uh, well. It was more easy than they thought." she replied. Nobody said anything more, and you just finished the movie. It was still early, so Sam decided to watch another movie, and you all agreed. But before that, you wanted some snacks, so you stood up, but you didn't miss asking your girlfriend if she wanted something.

"Katherine I will grab snacks; do you want something?" you asked, and all the noises instantly disappeared. You didn't see it, but the guys started to feel uncomfortable, but Yelena and Tony smirked.

"Uh. Just a soda, thanks." she replied, and you nodded before leaving, and your blonde sister followed you. When you were in the kitchen, your girlfriend looked at Natasha. "Did I do something to her?" she asked, and your older sister was also surprised.

"I was about to ask you the same thing." the redhead said.

In the kitchen, you were packing some snacks with the help of Yelena, but she couldn't help but laugh. "You should see her face." she said, and you smirked.

"Okay, it was funny, but I don't like to see her like that." you said. "I'll make up tonight." you added, and the Russian nodded. You quickly returned to the living room and took your seat next to your favorite black-haired person after you placed the snacks on the coffee table. "And a soda for my Katherine." you said, holding her soda can. The rest of the night went well. Kate thought you just had a bad day, but tomorrow you'll be right, no?

Unfortunately, no. When she woke up, you were running your hand through her hair. "I just woke up, and you want to make me sleep again." she joked, and you smiled. You gently kissed her, and she smiled like a teenager. She loved it when you kissed her; that meant a lot to you because of your past, but the morning kiss was her favorite. There was no one there, just you two.

"Good morning, Katherine." you whispered with a strong morning accent, and you almost laughed when she frowned her eyebrows. She wanted to talk, but she was interrupted by knocks on the door.

"Y/n, I need a new partner for this morning!!" Yelena yelled.

"Duty call," you said, and after 30 minutes, you were out with your sister. Kate started to be pissed off, and you didn't really calm her down because you called her 'Katherine' during the entire week. The next Monday, she started to feel overwhelmed. She was in the kitchen with your two sisters when you showed up, you kissed her cheek like always, and you greeted your sisters. You ate some of Yelena's mac and cheese, and you decide to ask a favor to your girlfriend. "Katherine, can you give me a water bottle, please?" you asked with your puppy's eyes, but she just glared at you.

"It's not the right name," she mumbled, and you knew she was angry, but you didn't want to end this now.

"The last time I checked, you were Katherine Bishop. So, Katherine Elizabeth Bishop, can you give me a water bottle, please?" you repeated, and she smacked her hand on the kitchen counter.

"Who is Katherine Elizabeth Bishop?" she asked, visibly pissed off.

"It's yo-" you tried to say, but you were cut off.

"No, it's not me. Katherine Bishop is gone!" she said loudly, and Yelena used all her strength to suppress her laughs. "For everyone, it's Kate! For Yelena, it's Kate Bishop! For Nat, it's little hawk! For Alexei, it's Little American. For Melina, it's Y/n's girlfriend! But for you, Y/n Vostokoff, it's Katie, babe, baby, moya lyubov'(my love), hot stuff, printsessa(princess), milaya devushka(cutie girl), moya zhena(my wife) or the future mother of my children!" she exclaimed. "So, I repeat myself, who is Katherine Elizabeth Bishop?" she asked.

The kitchen was silent for a moment. It was really not her thing to raise her voice to you, she was always so lovely and caring. "Wow, Y/n you mess up." Nat said, and Yelena finally laughed. Their voices brought you back.

You quickly stood up and gave your girlfriend a tight hug. "I'm sorry, Katie baby; it was just a prank." you explained, and you chuckled. "If I knew you would be so upset, I would do that earlier." you joked, and she slammed your arm before escaping from your grip.

"I thought you were upset with me, dipshit." she said, and you gasped.

"Kate Bishop, my future sister-in-law, how you called her." Yelena said, and you chuckled.

"I'm sorry." you repeated. "I love you, moya lyubov'." You kissed her and melted when your lips connected with hers. "How could you forgive me?"

"Cuddle with me" she said immediately. "And you'll come with me to Lucky's walk later." she added, and you nodded.

A few hours later, you were in Central Park for Lucky's walk, your finger intertwined with Kate's. She was talking about her week, and something came to your mind, you stopped, and she looked confused.

"Did you mean it?" you asked, and when she showed you, she didn't understand what you were talking about, so you explained. "About being the mother of my children."

She smirked, "I don't mind, but before we have to do something." she said, and you smiled.

You spent the rest of the walk smiling to yourself. This night Kate was fast asleep on your chest, and you just ran your hand through her hair. You were thinking about everything, and you finally thought about something, or more precisely, someone. You looked at the sleeping girl and smiled. Yeah, one day she'll be your wife.

----------

#yelena belova #yelena belova x fem!reader #yelena belova x fem reader #yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova x sister!reader #yelena belova x platonic!reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x sister!reader #natasha romanoff x platonic!reader #kate bishop #kate bishop x fem!reader #kate bishop x female reader #widow!reader #sister!natasha #sister!yelena #marvel fanfic #marvel fic

[toomanyfandomsimfanvergent]

Yn: I am not out of control, I am a law abiding citizen.

Peter: Really? Name one law

Yn: Don't kill people

Peter: That's on me, I set the bar too low.

#Peter Parker x widow!reader #Peter Parker x reader #peter parker x gender neutral reader #Incorrect quotes #Peter Parker incorrect quotes #Avengers!reader #Widow!reader

[babyjackdaniels]

#fox writes imagines #hope this makes sense #marvel #yelena belova #widow!reader #assassin!reader #marvel imagine #yelena belova imagine #widow!reader imagine #assassin!reader imagine #black widow #angsty angst

[d-romanov]

hellooooo!

i’m wanting to get myself into writing more regularly so if you’re interested feel free to send me some prompts!

check out my pinned post for rules but i’m pretty chill about what i write

#mama nat #blackhill moms #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #blackhill x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff #hydra!reader #widow!reader #writing #y/n #mcu x reader

[wizardofrozz]

Unexpected Cluster

Peter Parker x Widow!Reader, Yelena Belova, Kate Bishop, mention of Rick Mason, OC Widow

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: swearing

A/N: I'm sorry it took so long for me to update but I kind of hit a wall and wasn't sure how I wanted to continue. This chapter is a little short but I wanted to highlight Peter's growing relationships and not break up the next part I have planned. Fingers crossed I don't hit writer’s block again lol

Chapter 11

Kate and Yelena were quietly working when Peter and (Y/N) managed to drag themselves out of bed the next morning both still looking a bit out of it. Yelena looked up from her laptop, raising an amused brow at the pair as she leaned back in her seat.

         “Looks like you two had a rough night,” she teased, drawing Kate’s attention away from her laptop.

         “Yeah with nothing to show for it,” (Y/N) huffed, curling up in her desk chair, cradling a steaming mug.

         “Your lead had nothing?” Kate wondered, resting her crossed arms on her desk.

         “Nothing we didn’t already know,” Peter cut in from his desk, rubbing at one eye. “So what’s our next move?”

         “Track down more Widows while keeping an eye out for our mystery woman,” Yelena replied, tilting her head back to look up at the ceiling. “Not much else we can do.”

         “Any new leads?” (Y/N) yawned, one of her eyes squinting closed. Peter narrowed his eyes when Yelena’s face brightened and he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what came out of her mouth next.

         “Anyone ever been to Mongolia?”

The buzz of voices and traffic hung over Ulaanbaatar similarly to the gray clouds overhead. Peter shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets, his shoulder creeping closer to his ears as he followed Yelena’s outline. He certainly wasn’t expecting it to be so cold and he wished he’d listened when (Y/N) told him to prepare for anything. Yelena looked over her shoulder and slowed her pace, waiting for Peter to catch up, and rolling her eyes playfully.

         “It’s not that cold,” Yelena scoffed lightheartedly, shaking her head.

         “It’s cold enough,” Peter mumbled, turning his grumpy expression on her, earning him a sharp laugh.

         “You’ll live,” she snickered with a devilish smirk. Peter ignored her jabs and surveyed the street they were on, watching the unbothered citizens go about their day.

         “What are we looking for?” he asked, smiling absently at a group of children laughing freely across the street. Peter bumped shoulders with Yelena, unconsciously swaying closer, leeching some of her body heat, and to his surprise, she didn’t move away, seemingly unbothered by his close proximity. He tried not to think too hard about how comfortable he felt around Yelena and how she seemed to feel the same; however, he couldn’t help the familial affection that surged up. Yelena looked up at him and for the briefest moment, her expression was calm and open like she forgot to be on guard but her features quickly hardened again.

         “One of my old contacts told me about someone close to the person that hired her,” Yelena explained, darting her eyes between Peter and the street in front of them.

         “Where are they?”

         “You know, you ask a lot of questions,” Yelena snorted, rolling her eyes half-heartedly, allowing only a faint smirk. Without thinking, Peter threw an arm around her shoulders and beamed at her; it wasn’t lost on him that she didn’t shove him away.

         “I’m curious,” he hummed with a shrug. Yelena scoffed quietly but still didn’t move away from Peter, tolerating his slight show of affection and it made him happier than he thought it would.

         “Curiosity killed the cat,” she quipped, poking his side, making Peter stumble away from her. Yelena’s face lit up with a genuine smile, mirth dancing in her green eyes and Peter wished he got to see this side of her more. “We only have a few more blocks to walk. There, happy now?”

         “Yes,” Peter snickered, straightening his spine again with a smile and letting his arm fall away. “Kate and (Y/N) will meet us at the hotel after, right?” Yelena hummed in affirmation, shifting her eyes away from Peter, scanning the flowing crowds again, ending the conversation there but he didn’t mind; they continued walking, occasionally bumping shoulders as they got closer to their destination.

Peter and Yelena made it back to the room before the others around dusk. When Yelena disappeared into the bathroom, Peter slipped out of the room, poking around the stairwells until he found a door to the roof. The night air raised goosebumps across his skin but Peter ignored it as he carefully sat on the ledge overlooking the capital city. The faint breeze rustled his already windblown hair and Peter closed his eyes, taking a few calming breathes as he let the myriad of recent events wash over him.

When Peter focused on the possible assassin watching him, he felt sick to his stomach, and a staggering wave of paranoia needling at the back of his mind, making him want to look over his shoulder. He was suddenly acutely aware of how exposed he was on the rooftop and he immediately searched the buildings around him for anything out of place. Peter was halfway through his arc across the capital's skyline when his ears perked up at the hushed squeak of the roof’s door and he stiffened, every muscle coiled tight, ready to strike. His breathing came out in harsh puffs as he sensed a presence creeping closer and a warm hand rested on his shoulder.

For a terrifying moment, he thought he might faint at the sudden relief that felt like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. (Y/N) stood behind him but off to the side so he could see her from the corner of his eye; Peter finally turned his head to look at her when he was certain he wouldn’t pass out. Her head was tilted slightly, her brows pinched together, concern etched into the furrow between her brows; Peter grounded himself in her touch, willing his racing heart to relax.

         “Hey,” (Y/N) hummed, sweeping her thumb over the sharp angle at the top of his shoulder blade. Peter dropped his head back, offering her a half-smile as a greeting; (Y/N) lingered behind him, the blazing city twinkling in her eyes as they slowly trailed around his face. The silence between them dragged on, the air growing heavy, an emotion flashing in her eyes that was too quick to catch. Peter expanded his awareness in an attempt to keep some semblance of control but the rush of stimuli quickly tittered on unpleasant.

The light breeze felt too harsh on his skin. The mixture of (Y/N)’s natural fragrance and the smog of the surrounding city burned his nostrils. His thundering heartbeat was deafening in his ears. The blood rushing to his face scorched him from the inside out. And the most staggering was the weight of (Y/N)’s hand on his shoulder. Peter’s entire body was thrumming with sensations and he felt lightheaded; thankfully, (Y/N) broke the contact, carefully lowering herself onto the ledge next to him. Peter wondered just how long they stayed locked together like that but quickly pushed the thought away when (Y/N) let out a soft, content sigh. They sat close enough to blur the lines of friendship but far enough apart that there was room for (Y/N)’s hand to curl around the stone between them.

         “H-How’d you know I’d be up here?” Peter asked, forcing his eyes to the dark horizon.

         “You like to be up high,” (Y/N) answered confidently, her legs swinging slowly as she braced her hands on the edge and leaned forward. Peter swallowed down the urge to scold her, not wanting to shift the unusual mood between them just yet.

         “It helps clear my head,” Peter murmured, rubbing his hands over the rough denim of his pants.

         “I know. There’s been a lot going on lately,” she sighed, turning her head ever so slightly. Peter recognized the underlying question; he could talk to her about everything or lamely agree and end the conversation there.

         “There’s a lot weighing on my mind,” was what he settled on. Peter turned his head to look at her, just admiring her without the weight of impending doom hanging over them. (Y/N) didn’t fall into the societal beauty standard that was plastered all over the US. Her skin was blemished from everyday life, her hair wasn’t always perfect, and she had bags under her eyes from too many sleepless nights. She had a foul mouth and a short temper. She wasn’t a supermodel straight from a magazine. To some people she wouldn’t be anything special but to Peter? To him, she was extraordinary. Headstrong, beautiful, intelligent, confident, and so many other things that made Peter feel a little dizzy sometimes.

Apparently, Peter had a type.

         “Wanna talk about it?” (Y/N)’s voice reached his ears, forcing him to focus on her face again and collect his wandering thoughts.

         “Not really,” Peter sighed, slouching forward. “I kinda want to not think about it for once.”

         “I get it,” she mumbled with a small smile, turning to meet his eyes. Peter mirrored her, letting out a long breath and tilted his head back to stare up at the stars overhead. The corner of his mouth lifted when he felt (Y/N) scoot closer and tentatively rest her head on his shoulder, folding her hands in her lap. Without looking down at her, Peter nervously shifted his hand so it was resting, palm up, in the dip between their touching legs. He flickered his eyes across the dark sky, half-heartedly looking for constellations in the clear sky, just reveling in (Y/N)’s warm presence at his side.

Peter pressed his lips together to hold back a sharp inhale when something brushed against his palm. He wanted to look down but stopped himself, letting his smile grow as he felt (Y/N)’s nails dragging across the sensitive skin on his palm. It took a few more tense minutes before his fingers started to spread around hers, his stomach somersaulting when their hands were loosely locked together. The last of the anxiety melted away when Peter dropped his head against (Y/N)’s, both of them letting out a soft sigh.

Peter felt like they might finally be on the same page.

Peter lounged in the co-pilot chair, tossing a paper ball at the pilot chair, smiling when the ball bounced off Kate’s head. She narrowed her eyes and threw the ball up higher than normal, making Peter work for it and laughing when he glared at her. The game continued to get more ridiculous, filling the quinjet with loud laughter that flowed out of the hatch when it opened. (Y/N) and Yelena paused at the door, watching the pair bent over howling with laughter, the former breaking into easy grins. (Y/N) glanced down at the text from Chloe, the Widow they recently reunited with her family, before shifting her eyes to the cackling pair at the front of the jet.

         “You two idiots ready to go?” Yelena called, barely containing her slight smile as she trudged into the quinjet. Kate and Peter slowly calmed down, sighing in unison which only revamped their laughing fit, earning them fond eye rolls from Yelena and (Y/N).

         “S-sorry, sorry,” Kate cackled, covering her mouth, tears popping up in the corners of her closed eyes. Peter had his face buried in his hands, muffling his gasping laughs and Yelena rolled her eyes at the adoring look on (Y/N)’s face.

         “Move your ass,” the blonde huffed, lightly shoving Kate’s shoulder. The still laughing brunette stumbled out of the pilot chair, falling into one of the empty chairs with a harsh exhale, wiping a shaky hand over her face.

         “Oh God,” Peter managed to get out around huffs of laughter, leaning his head back against the chair. “My stomach hurts now.”

         “Poor baby,” (Y/N) teased, poking his stomach and jumping away when he swatted at her. (Y/N) stuck her tongue out at him before dropping into a seat opposite Kate and pulling her phone out of her pocket.

         “Ready?” Yelena asked over her shoulder as she flipped switches, preparing for take-off. The other three occupants mumbled their agreements, settling into their seats as the quinjet engines roared to life, filling the cabin with a soft hum. Mongolia grew smaller as the jet carried them into the clouds and (Y/N) slumped in her chair, scrolling mindlessly through her emails. Peter, Yelena, and Kate were filling the space with small talk, the buzz of their voices surrounding her with a sense of calm, lolling her tense body closer to relaxation. Her eyes grew heavier, the small text on her phone blurring so badly she nearly missed the familiar email address.

The subject line of Mason’s email made (Y/N)’s eyes snap open, violently snuffing out the semblance of peace.

 Subject: URGENT Rick Mason Fri. Aug. 3, 6:47 PM (2 DAYS AGO)

(Y/N),

I won’t beat around the bush and try to explain and/or justified this but you must know that I hate to tell you this. My personal records have been hacked and from what I can gather, the small bit of information I have on you, Kate, Peter, and Yelena was the only thing that seemed to be copied. I’m working on finding out who was able to break through my encryption but as soon as I have any information, I’ll share it with you.

I do want to apologize again.

Regards,

Rick Mason

 (Y/N) could only gape at her phone for a moment, her brain trying to decipher the text as if it was written in another language. Fear prickled at the back of her skull for a moment but was quickly replaced by a surge of anger and she ground her teeth together. She lifted her head, her eyes darting around to the smiling faces of her found family as they joked about something (Y/N) hadn’t heard. Kate felt her heavy gaze first and glanced over to meet her eyes, her dark brows immediately furrowing when she caught the deadly look on (Y/N)’s face.

         “What’s wrong?” Kate asked, tilting her head to the side. At the sound of her voice, Yelena and Peter snapped their attention to (Y/N), any traces of amusement disappearing instantly.

         “Bug?” Peter hummed, squinting at her. (Y/N) looked down at her phone again, an uneasy feeling churning in her stomach before she faced her companions again.

         “I think we have a problem.”

Dark eyes lazily followed the rhythmic blinking across the screen overhead. She leaned back in her seat, folding her hands over her stomach with a faint smile. A steady drip somewhere over her shoulder added to the puddles littering the floor of the deteriorating building, the sound perfectly in time with the quinjet’s GPS. She watched the dot crawl closer and closer to North America’s coast as hundreds of scenarios raced through her mind. The time of sticking to the shadows was over.

         “Not long now, old friend.”

Chapter 12 | Masterlist

Taglist: @bbyzuzu​ @itsafansworld07​ @mrsamerica​ @minjix​ @nopeisalwaystheanswer​ @edgycatx​ 

#peter parker #widow!reader #peter parker x widow!reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman #marvel #mcu #yelena belova #kate bishop #tom!peter parker #tom!spiderman #unexpected cluster

[nkogneatho]

geto suguru who never stops talking about you. he is a composed man but his ear perk up at the slightest mention of you or the things you like. you plagued his mind. he is always down the street thinking about what you'd be doing. all those desserts that he used to despise, have soon started getting comfortable on his taste buds just because you liked it. he didn't even notice how your habits started infecting him too. but a little change was nice. you are the only thing igniting the flame of his will to live when he himself is sabotaging the little fire, blowing it away.

the two girls he is raising ask him for your picture. he is shunned for a second but the shock merges into a smile. he whips out his phone and hands them to the girls.

"that's her. my wife."

"but...these are the pictures of the sky." they look at him with a confused expression only to find a tear roll down his eye.

"yes. isn't she beautiful? i hope she's doing fine there." they don't know how to reply except to tear up themselves.

"i hope i get to meet her. but with all that i've done in this life, i am sure i am going to hell." he looks up at the sky, the clouds dispersed and sunrays peeking. "although, it's fine. loving her was heaven on earth anyways."

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader #hii i am back with my widowed jjk men agenda!! have fun ;) #geto suguru x reader #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #geto suguru #geto x you

[romanoffshouse]

[Natasha speaking Russian]

Y/N, sighing: Yeah, I know.

Tony: You speak Russian?

Y/N: No. I just know the phrase, "This is all your fault"

Y/N: She says it a lot.

#source: jessie #incorrect marvel quotes #marvel incorrect quotes #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x you #natasha x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x you #tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #tony x reader #iron man x reader #iron man #marvel #marvel x reader #the avengers #avengers x reader

[waltermis]

And yet she's still the one that got screwed over by Marvel 😮‍💨

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #avengers #mcu #avengers: infinity war #avengers : endgame #black widow #natasha romanov #natasha romonova #natasha x reader #avengers x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #Scarlett johansson

[marvelfilth]

Need (18+)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader x Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: g!p Natasha Romanoff, g!p Wanda Maximoff, implied influence of sex pollen, PWP, threesome, unprotected sex, blow job

Summary: absolutely zero plot, straight up PWP

Masterlist

You finally let yourself relax for the first time in the past two days, closing your eyes and throwing yourself on the couch.

You hate stealth missions. You are more of an explosion type of girl, coming in with a bang, kicking some ass and leaving as soon as possible, but this - staying hidden, moving in shadows, and sneaking behind people's backs - this is more of a Natasha thing, which is why she is the one in charge.

You sigh, turning your head to look at the redhead. She is bent over some documents, her brows furrowed in deep thought. Wanda appears by her side a moment later, drops of sweat rolling down her temples.

You sit up, and focus on the women in front of you. Hours ago something went wrong when you split up, they came back looking as guilty as ever, reassuring you that everything was alright, and you believed them then. Now you're not so sure.

"Is everything okay?" You ask, pinning them down with your eyes.

Wanda jumps in surprise and moves to stand behind the table, slightly bending over. Your eyes narrow at the sight.

"Everything is alright. You should go to the store, we don't have anything to eat," Natasha says through gritted teeth, not meeting your eyes.

Your mouth opens in shock, eyes straying to Wanda's in search of support, but you find her in a similar state - eyes dark and jaw clenched tight.

"You two go to the store. Maybe some fresh air will help you get your shit together." You huff, choosing to walk away from the women and hole up in your room, but when you pass by Wanda, your hand accidentally grazing hers, she lets out an actual growl, the wood of the table squeaking in her hold. Her eyes burn bright red, her mouth open as she pants heavily.

"What's wrong?" You hurry to her side, cupping her jaw to inspect her face, and her hips thrust forward, her eyes closing as she whines.

"You need to go." Natasha's low voice reaches your ears, making you look at the redhead. "Leave, before it's too late."

You blink and take a step back, concern swirling in your chest. "What is going on? Let me help."

Wanda takes a deep breath, her hands trembling as she reaches for your hand.

"Wanda," Natasha warns, her tone steel-like, but Wanda pays her no mind, her fingers hot on your arm as she pulls you flush against her front, burrowing her nose in the back of your neck and grinding her hips against your backside, her rock hard cock straining in the confines of her pants.

You gasp, unconsciously arching your back to meet her messy humps, her hands curling around your waist, her mouth hot on your neck. "W-wanda."

Natasha walks around the table and you finally see her fully, see the bulge in her pants, see the veins in her tense forearms. "Leave," she croaks, "before we completely lose control."

You let an involuntary whimper, the sound making Natasha pounce on you with animalistic need. Her lips are on yours, enveloping you in their warmth, her hands are rough on your hips, squeezing and tugging you away from the other woman, but Wanda doesn't budge, growling against your neck and holding on to your waist.

Natasha stumbles back, breathless, and closes her eyes tightly, her fists clenched tight. "This is your last chance. If you don't leave now, we'll take it as your permission to do whatever we want to you."

Wanda hums against the slope of your neck, nipping and sucking on the tender skin, her hot tongue soothing the sting. You gulp, head falling back against her shoulder.

"Use me," you whisper, "do whatever you want."

Natasha's eyes flash, and then she's pushing you down to your knees. Your mouth falls open as her pants and underwear slide down her legs. Her fat cock stands proudly against her stomach, precum leaking down the tip. You barely have enough time to wet your lips before she pushes it down your throat, holding your face between her hands and fucking your mouth like her life depends on it. She throws her head back, strands of her fiery red hair framing her face as she loses herself in her desire.

Wanda mewls beside you, and you glance at her, eyes widening when you see her straining cock in her fist. She pumps it fast, her eyes on you, and you reach out, your fingers wrapping around the length. She closes her eyes, her hands settle on your shoulders as you slowly jerk her off, your throat burning from Natasha's cock. She pulls away to let you take a breath, but you don't have enough time for that - Wanda immediately takes her place, shoving herself into your mouth, her balls slapping against your chin.

You blink back tears, trying to relax your throat, but still gagging on her length.

"M'sorry, detka," she murmurs, "you'll have to take it all."

Natasha taps her tip on your cheek, her fingers tangling in your hair. You pull away, finally allowed to breathe properly, and clench your thighs at the sight of their cocks in front of your face, your wetness staining your sleep shorts as you subtly grind on your heel.

Natasha growls, and then you're pulled off the floor and thrown over the spy's shoulder. She carries you to her bedroom with ease, and throws you on the bed. Wanda hurriedly tugs off your clothes, almost ripping your underwear in haste to get you naked. Natasha is on you the second you're laid bare, ready to claim your most vulnerable part. You spread your legs, bending them at your knees, your thighs wet with your arousal. Natasha tugs you closer, and forces you on your hands and knees.

"Better," she husks, the tip of her cock pushing between your folds and into your tight heat, your walls clenching tightly around her shaft. She moans, thrusting balls deep, "Such a good pussy, taking me like a good slut."

You cry out, mouth falling wide open, and see Wanda settle in front of you, her cock still wet with your spit. She takes hold of your jaw and pushes your head down, simultaneously thrusting her cock deep inside your throat. "Fuck, Nat, we should've done this sooner."

They fuck you like you're a common whore, using your holes to their liking, Wanda's balls slapping against your chin, Natasha's palms placed possessively on your ass. You gag on the witch's shaft, tears streaming down your face, but she's too far gone in her pleasure to notice, hips snapping faster with each thrust. Natasha's length spreads your cunt almost painfully, the tip of her thick cock pushing against your cervix with each rough thrust.

Your moans send vibrations through Wanda's length, making the young witch cry out, her abs taut with tension, fingers pulling at your hair harshly. She comes down your throat with a loud moan, making you gag on her cum. You pull away, struggling to swallow the load that leaks all over your face and chest.

Natasha's thrusts become erratic as she gets closer to her own release, her fat cock sloshing in your wetness.

"Tasha- ah, please," you gasp, and she flips you on your back, changing the angle.

"Louder, baby," she pants, snapping her hips faster, her fingers leaving bruises on your hips. "I want everyone to know what a cock slut you are." Her dirty words make your head spin, your walls clenching around her thickness, trying to swallow her in.

Wanda throws one led over your stomach, now hovering over you, and pushes your breasts together before thrusting her cock between them. You eagerly open your mouth, welcoming the reddened tip. She whines and mewls as she plays with your breasts, her thumbs stroking your nipples, ready to come again just from the sight below her.

Your legs are spread wider before they're thrown over Nat's shoulders. She presses her palm against the bulge in your belly, making you scream, "Yes! Ah- Nat… Yes, yes, yes- deeper, I need you deeper."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she thrusts one last time, releasing a load of cum into your clenching heat. The pressure inside you releases as you're hit by the most powerful orgasm you've ever had. A few seconds later Wanda follows, forcing your jaw open and thrusting the tip of her cock inside. This time you swallow it all.

She falls on the bed beside you, her body glistening with sweat as you both catch your breath. Natasha slowly pulls out, gently massaging your thighs before taking place on your other side.

"We're not done," she whispers against your ear, her palm cupping your pussy. "We're not done until we've used every single one of your holes. And after that we'll go back to the compound, and we'll do it again and again and again."

Wanda nods, grinning wolfishly, and settles over you, her cock on your lower stomach, ready to fulfill Natasha's promise.

You gulp and spread your legs wider, ready to give them everything.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wandanat x reader #wandanat smut #natasha romanoff x you #wanda maximoff x you #black widow x reader #scarlet witch x reader

[just-aake]

Detecting Love

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: A person with the power to detect lies meets the spy who has been trained to lie her entire life.

Warnings: fluff, light angst

Words: 6169

You have the power to detect lies. 

Now, it’s not exactly strong enough to be a hero, but you can honestly say that it has been useful in your life. 

Sure, it gets annoying at times, but one of the many lessons you’ve learned is to ignore minor instances of dishonesty — white lies or small things like that — since it helps reduce unnecessary confusion or chaos with others.

People lie. That is an undeniable fact of life.

And while one may believe that being able to detect such things is great, the truth is there are times when you find yourself resenting your power. 

Because, of course, everyone experiences moments when they wish that someone important to them isn't lying.

Like when your fiancée tells you she loves you.

There wasn’t really a malicious reason behind why a usually affectionate statement suddenly became so hurtful.

There was no cheating.

There was no fighting.

It was just another one of the many lessons you’ve learned in life.

That sometimes…a truth can also become a lie.

It’s just unfortunate that this lesson happened to you in such a way.

These kinds of moments make you wonder if maybe it’s better that people shouldn’t always know when someone is lying to them.

Then they don’t end up alone, drinking at a bar late into the night, trying to numb the pain of a broken heart.

You let out a heavy sigh as you stare at the pair of rings resting on the bar top, remembering the conversation that ended with one of them being returned to you. 

It was a heart-wrenching discussion where your fiancée confessed her steadily changed feelings for you, leading to the resolution to remain friends. 

And while neither of you is completely at fault for why things ended, you can’t help but blame your stupid power for putting you in the situation in the first place. 

You sigh heavily once more before swiftly downing the glass the bartender had set in front of you.

At least your current attempt to drown your sorrow is going well, judging by how the rings start to blur in your vision.

With a sad sigh, you reach for the rings to put them away, but in your clumsy state, one slips from your grasp and tumbles to the floor.

Just as you move to retrieve it, a hand beats you to it. 

Looking up, you find a red-haired stranger standing before you, offering the ring to you with a charming smile.

She looks familiar but the drunken haze in your brain makes it hard for you to remember where you’ve seen her before.

“Here, you dropped this,” she says, her voice low and smooth.

She’s beautiful and her voice sounds perfect. You think to yourself as you take the ring from her.

She chuckles lightly, “Thanks.”

Oh, did you say that out loud? You must be more drunk than you thought.

The woman offers her hand to you in greeting, and with a confident smirk, she introduces herself.

“My name’s Natalie. Natalie Rushman.”

Immediately, a red aura surrounds her, causing you to roll your eyes and return your attention back to the bar. 

“Liar,” you mutter tiredly as you gesture to the bartender to close your tab, not really in the mood to deal with any more lies tonight.

At the corner of your eyes, you see the stranger give you a slightly impressed look.

Ready to leave, you stand up quickly from your seat.

However, the action makes the room suddenly spin in your vision, causing you to stagger backward. 

A hand steadies you, resting gently on your back, and you unconsciously lean back against her surprisingly strong frame for support.

There’s a soft chuckle near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Let me try again,” she whispers smoothly, guiding you upright and turning you around to face her.

Offering her hand once more, she reintroduces herself.

“My name’s Natasha Romanoff. I’m here to recruit you to work for the Avengers.”

You blink slowly, trying to comprehend her words through your drunken haze. You wonder if the alcohol is affecting you more than you thought when no red aura appears this time at her words.

Chuckling to yourself, you shake your head in disbelief, unfortunately worsening the pounding in your skull. 

Work for the Avengers? That has to be a lie.

Before you can think about it any further, you feel yourself falling once more, unable to remain upright.

Strong arms catch you, and as your consciousness fades, you see a blurry glimpse of her striking green eyes before succumbing to darkness.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

You wake to the pounding in your head and the bright sunlight streaming through your window. Turning away, you groan into your pillow, remembering that your fiancée – your ex-fiancée – would typically close the curtains before leaving for work.

Now that she’s gone, you’re going to have to adjust to living alone once again.

A cup being placed on the nightstand startles you into sitting up, as you turn in surprise to find the beautiful red-haired stranger beside your bed.

“For your headache,” she explains, placing some medicine next to the cup.

Your mouth hangs open as you struggle to remember the events of last night, some of which are honestly a blur. 

You examine yourself, checking your clothes and finding them unchanged from the previous night, and then you scan your surroundings again and realize in relief that nothing was out of place.

Well, except for the presence of this stranger in your home, who’s patiently waiting for you to gather yourself.

Searching through your drunken memories, you think you vaguely remember meeting her last night. She had mentioned her name was — Nata…? 

“Natalie?” you ask with uncertainty.

At her raised brow, you quickly apologize, feeling bad for not remembering correctly.

“I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember, but did we…did something happen between us last night?” you ask hesitantly.

Her face twists in genuine sadness and disappointment, causing a panic to run through you as you struggle to recall what could’ve possibly happened between the two of you for her to have such an expression.

“I’m hurt,” she finally says, placing a hand on her chest, “And after you even said that it was the best night of your life.”

Seeing the familiar red aura appear around her at her words, you let out a brief sigh of relief before realization sets in, and you give her a hard glare.

“You’re lying.”

Her hurt expression quickly morphs into an impressed look, and you are slightly startled at how effortlessly she was able to shift her emotions. 

The woman straightens her posture and crosses her arms, adopting a commanding stance that seems more likely her typical demeanor.

“So it’s not just luck,” she remarks, studying you curiously. 

At her words, you quickly rise from your bed in confusion.

However, the action causes you to wince in pain at the pounding in your head. 

Shutting your eyes tightly, you hold your head in comfort and lean lightly on the nightstand for support. 

As you do, your hand brushes against yesterday’s newspaper that you had been reading moments before your ex said those fateful three words that led to the heartbreaking conversation between the two of you. 

When the pain subsides, you slowly open your eyes, catching a glimpse of the front page before doing a double take.

The front features an article about the opening of the new Avenger Compound, including a photo capturing the Avenger members posed in front of the completed building. 

What catches you off guard is the uncanny resemblance between one of the Avengers in the picture and the woman standing before you.

Pointing at her in disbelief, you stammer.

“You’re…,” then, gesturing at the newspaper, you continue, “…her?”

She doesn’t respond to your question but instead nods toward your other room, inviting you to follow.

“Let’s talk,” she says, heading toward your door, then gestures at the medicine on your nightstand. “But drink those first.”

After freshening up in your bathroom, you take a moment to stare at your reflection in the mirror, noticing the remnants of last night’s tears in your slightly puffy, red eyes. 

Sighing, you brush away the depressing thoughts of your failed relationship before taking the medicine and exiting your room.

You are greeted by the sight of your unexpected guest comfortably seated at your kitchen counter, flipping through a magazine with casual disinterest.

“You’re Black Widow,” you say confidently this time, positioning yourself on the opposite side of her.

She closes the magazine with a snap, placing it on the table before clasping her hands atop of it and meeting your gaze.

“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects you, before nodding at you. “And you’re Y/n L/n.”

“How did you…?”

She holds up a wedding invitation draft, displaying you and your fiancée’s names printed in fine lettering. 

Realizing that she must have been snooping around your things, you give her a disapproving glare, snatching the card from her hand and hastily stuffing it into a drawer.

Feeling a mixture of emotions—irritated, sad, hungover—you turn to the fridge, deciding to make breakfast to give yourself some focus. 

After you retrieve the eggs and other ingredients, you heat the stove before glancing at Natasha briefly, asking, “So, what does an Avenger want from me?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see her resting her head against her hand, watching you with interest.

“I told you yesterday,” she replies.

You roll your eyes, giving her a deadpan look, knowing she’s aware that you don’t remember.

“Remind me again.”

Natasha gives you an amused smirk, straightening up in her seat. 

“Alright, I’m here to recruit you, more specifically for a sort of managerial position at the new Avenger Compound.”

Furrowing your brows, you question, “Why me? I don't have experience with that sort of thing.”

“But you can tell when someone is lying, can’t you?”

Pausing briefly in your cooking, you contemplate her words and its possible implications. Not many people know about your ability, and you don’t think you did anything to reveal it to the spy who’s currently staring expectantly at you.

So, in response, you shrug, replying as casually as possible. 

“I guess you could say I’m good at reading people…psychology degree and all.”

A silence ensues, broken only by the sizzling of your cooking, until Natasha finally nods, seemingly accepting your explanation.

You breathe a silent sigh of relief, returning your attention to your current task.

But then she pulls out a folder filled with documents and places it on the counter, causing your nerves to rise again.

“Well, you’ve helped solve hundreds of cases with your interviews of the suspects,” she remarks casually, flipping through the folder before glancing up at you through her lashes. 

“100% accuracy rate in the information that you provided to the detectives,” she continues, nodding at you in acknowledgment. “For a part-time profiler, that’s impressive.”

“Thanks,” you respond with a polite smile, but beneath the surface, a hint of suspicion creeps in as you begin plating the meal you made.

Natasha closes the folder with a definitive snap, making you look at her. 

“You could say it’s almost impossible,” she muses, before a confident smirk forms on her face, and she tilts her head at you with a raised brow in challenge. 

“Unless there’s some way you can guarantee that they’re telling the truth.”

Honestly, you should’ve known better than to think that the experienced spy hadn’t already completed thorough research and investigations into you and your powers before meeting with you.

If anything, this was likely just a test for her to confirm what she already knows about your abilities.

Sliding a plate across the counter to Natasha with a pointed glare, you relent, deciding there’s no point in denying it anymore.

“Fine, what do you know?” 

Instead of responding, Natasha’s gaze lingers on the plate before her, a hint of confusion in her expression. 

Her plate holds a fluffy omelette accompanied by a side of crispy bacon and a slice of golden-brown toasted bread.

As she glances back up at you with a questioning look in her eyes, you take a seat across from her, setting down a similar plate in front of you before also placing a stack of fluffy pancakes at the center.

“What’s this?” she asks, gesturing to the meal.

“Breakfast,” you reply bluntly, taking a bite from your plate.

Natasha raises a brow at you, remarking plainly, “It’s noon.”

“Brunch then,” you correct with a roll of your eyes.

Natasha's lips quirk up in amusement, and she shakes her head.

“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.” 

The red aura appears around her, and with your mouth full of food, you give her a pointed glare.

“Right,” Natasha says in realization, remembering what you can do. She pulls the plate closer to her with a soft thanks. 

The atmosphere that followed was unusual but surprisingly not awkward. Despite being practically strangers, you find yourself slightly comforted by Natasha’s presence. 

If she wasn’t here, you probably wouldn’t have dragged yourself out of bed today after what happened yesterday.

After a moment of eating, Natasha breaks the silence.

“So, how can you tell when someone’s lying?”

Pausing to contemplate your answer, you wipe your mouth with a napkin before responding. 

“Well, when someone lies, there’s always this rush of chemicals that happens in their bodies,” you explain. “It ends up causing the typical indicators — things like fidgeting, sweating, or tone changes in their voice.”

“I didn’t do any of that, yet you still knew I was lying,” Natasha points out.

“No, you're right,” you admit, nodding. “You’re a perfect liar.”

From what you have seen so far, every expression and comment of hers appears genuine and honest, and if it was anyone else, they’d probably believe anything she says.

However, thanks to your ability, you know better. 

Gesturing at her, you clarify, “You still give off the same chemical reactions though, and I have the ability to see that.”

Natasha leans back in her seat, crossing her arms as she processes your explanation.

“It’s mainly visual then,” she concludes before asking curiously. “You don’t even need to hear what they said to know that they’re lying?” 

You nod, ruefully adding, “Yep, my world’s just filled with people glowing red at random.”

“And how long does this ‘glow’ stay around them?”

“Depends,” you reply with a shrug. “Usually not long, maybe a few seconds.”

Natasha hums in interest, tapping her chin, her brows pinching lightly in thought.

You can’t help but smile amusedly at the sight. 

For a person who has such an intimidating reputation, the spy in front of you right now looks kind of cute rather than scary.

After a moment, you break the silence this time.

“So, what’s the job?” 

Natasha’s eyes focus back on you at your question.

“Nothing too complicated,” she assures. “You’ll be in charge of interviewing the new employee candidates and conducting continuous reviews of the current ones.”

“You mean like screening them?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion, already aware of the rigorous and difficult process required to work at the Avengers buildings. 

“Don’t you guys already do extensive background checks before hiring people? Why do you suddenly need me?”

At your question, a charming smile appears on her face, effortlessly shifting her expression like before, though now you understand she’s just hiding her true feelings about the situation.

“That’s confidential.”

You scoff in disbelief and cross your arms.

“You do know that just makes it harder to trust you, right?”

Natasha mirrors your posture, her pretty grin still in place, masking any other emotions.

“Fair point,” she admits. “But to be honest, you should never put your trust in people like me anyway.”

“People like you?” 

“Spies,” Natasha clarifies as she begins to gather her empty plate and utensils. “Which is one of the types of people you’d be looking out for in this position. Their deception skills would be on a similar level to mine.”

You chuckle at that, causing Natasha to pause in her actions, raising a brow at you in question.

“Sorry, but everyone lies, whether you’re a spy or not,” you tell her, standing and taking the empty plate from her with a small smirk. “You’re just slightly better at it.”

A tiny offended look slips through Natasha’s expression at your little jab, her brow furrowing for a brief second.

Your grin widens at the sight of seeing a glimpse of her real self as you turn to place the dirty dishes in the sink.

Natasha quickly regains her composure, moving around the counter to lean back against the table next to you.

“In any case, the decision is still yours. I’ve already confirmed your abilities. It’s up to you to decide if you want to accept.”

At her words, you pause to consider your options. 

A new job working with the Avengers is a great opportunity, but it would be a significant change in your life. 

Then again, you’re already facing a huge change.

Your eyes unconsciously drift to the drawer next to where Natasha is leaning, where the wedding invitation draft remains, and your face twists in sadness at the memory. 

You guess it wouldn’t hurt to add a career change alongside your new relationship status.

At least this way you can still earn a salary while also distracting yourself from the depressing thoughts of your failed engagement. 

“Okay,” you decide, meeting Natasha’s gaze with a sigh, “I’ll take the job.”

“Great, I knew you would be agreeable,” Natasha remarks, extending her hand to you.

A red aura appears around her, causing you to huff and roll your eyes.

You take her hand in yours, giving her a tiny glare.

“Liar.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“I don’t remember agreeing to this.”

You say that as you dodge another swing from Natasha, ducking under her arm to get behind her, only for her to twist her body around and deliver a kick that you narrowly block with your arms. 

Still, the impact has you stumbling back.

“Really?” Natasha asks with an innocent tone as she circles you. “I thought I mentioned to you that training was a part of your employment.”

A red aura begins to appear around her, but you don’t have time to comment before she swings her leg at you again. 

You catch it against your side with a small grunt of pain.

Having been a profiler for criminal cases before, you do have basic defense training, and you always believed that you could hold your own against most aggressors. 

At least you used to.

This current fight is making you reconsider your skills.

With her off-balance position, you attempt to throw her to the ground, but Natasha swiftly regains her footing, catching herself on her hands and executing a fluid movement to flip upright. She then bends low, sweeping your legs out from under you.

You land on the mat with a groan, feeling the impact reverberate through your body. Another pained breath escapes you as Natasha expertly pins you down.

You catch the faint red aura fading from her before throwing your head back against the mat with an exhausted sigh.

“You’re such a liar,” you breathe out, your voice tinged with both exhaustion and playful accusation. Closing your eyes, you take a moment to catch your breath.

Natasha's laughter fills the air, resonating above you, her amusement infectious and drawing a small grin from you. You peek open your eyes, watching as she disengages from atop you and heads over to her water bottle at the side.

“I’m a spy. It comes with the job,” she says casually, taking a sip.

“Okay, and I’m basically just HR,” you counter, pulling yourself upright into a sitting position. “So how does combat training fit into that?”

Natasha gestures towards you with a sweep of her hand.

“You need to be prepared to defend yourself if you ever expose someone dangerous and find yourself without backup,” she explains.

“That’s unlikely considering I haven’t even encountered anyone suspicious since I started,” you remark with a sigh.

It's been a month already, and you're starting to question if your presence here is even necessary.

Before you can dwell further on your thoughts, the cold touch of a metal water bottle against your cheek startles you.

Recoiling, you look up to see Natasha holding it out to you.

Raising a brow, Natasha waves the bottle lightly in offer.

You snatch the bottle from her with a tiny glare, but she only smirks in response.

Apart from the new job, the other surprising addition to your life is your budding friendship with the Avenger. 

After the whole recruiting ordeal, you honestly expected to only have passing encounters with her at the compound.

However, to your surprise, on your first day here, Natasha was the one who volunteered to give you a tour of the place, and in the days that followed, the two of you would often share coffee and chat before you had to head off to your respective jobs.

Those regular interactions with her also earned you a fearsome reputation among the other workers, which actually works out in your favor since they’re already nervous by the time you call them in for a review. This way they are more likely to slip up and reveal anything they may be hiding.

But, like you said, you haven’t found anything substantial yet.

With a heavy sigh, you pull your knees to your chest, resting your forehead against them, feeling the weight of failure bearing down on you.

Then you hear Natasha plop down beside you.

“Back when we met, you asked me why we needed you,” she begins.

Curious at her words, you turn your head slightly to glance at her, waiting for her explanation.

Natasha leans back on her hands, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as she continues to speak.

“A couple of months ago, our surveillance revealed that someone within the compound staff was plotting an attack during the opening ceremony of the new building. However, we couldn’t confirm who it was without risking exposing that we knew of their plan."

Your eyes widen in confusion at the revelation. From what you remember, the opening ceremony was a success. There hadn’t been any news of an attack that day.

“But you caught them, right?” you inquire.

“No,” Natasha responds, shaking her head before meeting your gaze. “You did.”

Surprised, you straighten up, giving her a questioning look.

Natasha offers a small smile, elaborating, “You had recently interviewed him as a suspect for another case, and in your notes, you labeled him as dangerous and untrustworthy, despite everything about him proving otherwise.”

“And you believed me?” you ask incredulously.

Natasha shrugs, “Well, I had no other leads at the time anyway.”

You scoff in exasperation at her teasing, playfully pushing her away.

She chuckles softly before adopting a more serious expression.

“Trust in your abilities, Y/n,” Natasha says with a genuine tone. “If it’s you, not finding anyone suspicious is a good thing.”

You watch her closely, waiting for the red aura to appear.

But as a couple of seconds pass and nothing changes, you tuck your forehead back against your knees, this time to hide the smile threatening to spread across your face.

“Alright, break’s over,” Natasha announces, giving your back an encouraging pat. “Let’s go again.”

You groan in reluctance, remaining in your curled-up position.

“Come on,” Natasha urges, her tone coaxing. “I’ll go easy on you this time.”

You don’t even need to look up to know the red aura is surrounding her.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“What’s this?”

Natasha's voice draws your attention away from the task of pouring cooked popcorn into a bowl.

She's sitting on your sofa, examining a small, elegant card that you had accidentally left on the table.

Widening your eyes in realization of what she’s found, you hurry over to her, but her narrowed eyes tell you that she has already read the names on the card.

“She’s inviting you to her wedding?” Natasha exclaims, disbelief coloring her tone. “It’s only been a year since your breakup, and now she’s already getting married?!”

Sighing in disappointment, you had hoped to keep this information from Natasha, who developed a strong dislike for your ex after you shared the details of your breakup during one of your girls' nights.

Placing the bowl of popcorn on the table, you take the invitation from her hand and head to the kitchen, intending to tuck it away in a drawer. 

As you slide it open, you catch the sight of the old wedding draft buried at the bottom, which causes a tiny pang of sadness in your chest at the memory of that time, of how everything changed so suddenly.

You can't help but wonder how your life might have unfolded if your engagement hadn't ended.

Would you still have accepted Natasha's offer if you hadn't been seeking a distraction from your failed relationship? 

“You’re not thinking about going, are you?” Natasha's voice interrupts your thoughts. 

Glancing up, you notice a peculiar look in her eyes, though it quickly shifts to a neutral expression at your gaze.

After a whole year of spending time together, you could tell underneath her impassive expression that she was upset about something; though, you figured it was just outrage at the situation.

Tossing the invitation into the drawer and shutting it, you offer her a small reassuring smile before returning to your seat beside her to start the movie.

“No, of course not,” you tell her.

As the opening scenes play, you maintain a normal, nonchalant expression, aware of Natasha's gaze still lingering on you even as the red aura fades from around your body.

After a while, Natasha huffs in disbelief before finally settling into the sofa, pulling the bowl of popcorn into her lap.

“You better be sharing that, Romanoff,” you tease, your eyes fixed on the screen.

Natasha scoffs before tossing a piece of popcorn at you.

“Of course, I will.”

Just as you're about to turn your head to look at her and confirm her honesty, she swiftly shoves a cushion pillow to the side of your face, blocking your view.

After a few seconds, she releases it, fluffing the cushion casually before leaning her head against your shoulder and tossing another piece of popcorn into her mouth.

You chuckle at her antics, amused by her playful behavior, before returning your attention to the screen.

A few days later, you find yourself standing on the outskirts of the wedding area, observing as servers and workers hustle to complete the finishing touches.

A sad, bittersweet expression tugs at your lips as you recognize familiar details chosen by your ex, mingled with hints of a stranger’s preferences in the decorations.

To be honest, you don’t intend to stay for the wedding. You're just here to confirm something for yourself.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, conjuring your ex’s face in your mind, and whisper to yourself. 

“I’m in love with her…”

Opening your eyes, you exhale slowly, a content smile on your lips as you notice the red aura surrounding your skin. It's a relief to be able to find closure regarding your feelings for your ex.

“You know, I don’t need powers to know you were lying,” a voice remarks from behind.

Startled, you turn to find Natasha approaching.

She stops beside you, her gaze fixed at the scene ahead as she accuses, “Saying that you weren’t going to come here.”

You look at her briefly before returning your attention to the field.

“I got curious about something,” you admit. “Figured that this was one way to confirm it.”

Excited and happy chatter fills the air as your ex appears, surrounded by friends and family.

Suddenly, thoughts of what-ifs from the other night resurface, prompting you to ask out loud unconsciously before you can stop yourself.

“Do you think I should’ve just pretended that she was telling the truth at that time — when she said she loved me?” you ask Natasha. “Maybe it might’ve worked out between us if I just kept my mouth shut.”

There’s a beat of silence before Natasha finally responds, her tone tinged with wistfulness.

“From my experience,” she begins, “I can tell you that living a lie would not make you happy…no matter how much you wish for it to be true.”

You chuckle lightly, “You’re probably right.”

“Of course I am,” Natasha says confidently.

A comfortable silence falls between you as you both observe the preparations from a distance.

“She is a fool for letting you go, though,” Natasha suddenly adds, her tone casual.

You laugh softly, gently chiding her, “You can’t call the bride that on her wedding day.”

“Alright then,” Natasha concedes, turning to you. “You’re an even bigger fool for coming here by yourself.”

She returns her gaze to the field, muttering under her breath with a hint of irritation, “…still visiting the one who broke your heart.”

Amused, you tilt your head to catch her eyes, chuckling at her words, as you tease, “You know, it almost sounds like you’re jealous.”

When Natasha doesn’t respond or look at you, you raise a brow in surprise and poke her side. 

“Wait, seriously, are you jealous?”

She swats your hand away.

“Stop that,” Natasha reprimands, before gritting out, “I’m not jealous!”

A small grin forms on your face as you notice the red aura appear, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and walk away.

“I’m leaving,” she declares firmly.

“Aww, come on, Natasha,” you call as you trail behind her.

Glancing back at you and seeing your pleased expression, she points at you in warning.

“That smile better be off your face by the time I pull up, or else you’re walking home,” she states before continuing on her way.

Watching her go with a fond smile, you find yourself softly repeating the words.

“I’m in love with her.”

Looking down, your smile widens when you don’t see the red aura appear, confirming what you already knew about your feelings for the red-haired spy.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

As you sit in your office at the Avenger compound, you feel a sense of fatigue wash over you at your busy schedule of back-to-back interviews.

Across from you, the final candidate squirms in her seat, clearly nervous under your scrutinizing gaze. 

A chill sweeps through the room, courtesy of the cold blast of air from the AC, and you can't help but regret your decision to have it set so cold, a choice originally intended to maintain an intimidating atmosphere during interviews. 

With a sigh, you reluctantly pull your hands from the cozy warmth of your hoodie pocket and turn to the next page of questions.

"Let's talk about handling confidential information," you begin, your voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Can you share a time when you had to ensure the secure handling of sensitive data?"

The candidate responds with some slight hesitation, but you sense it’s more from her nerves than any dishonesty, so you continue, moving on to the remaining questions.

Luckily, the rest of the interview goes by quickly and smoothly with her answering the other questions without any problems.

However, now comes the final question of the interview.

“Among the Avengers, who do you consider to be the hottest?”

Clearly caught off-guard, she stumbles over her words, “W-what?” 

Maintaining your serious demeanor, you repeat the question.

“Who do you believe is the hottest Avenger?”

After a moment's pause, she softly answers, “Black Widow..."

Setting your clipboard down, you extend your hand.

"Thank you for coming. It was nice meeting you," you say, signaling the end of the interview.

As she thanks you and leaves, you flip to the last paper on your clipboard, revealing a sheet with tick marks beside the names of your Avenger friends.

With an amused smile, you add another mark at the end of Natasha’s already leading line.

“I don’t think that last question was approved by Steve,” a voice accuses from the doorway.

Glancing up, you see Natasha leaning against the frame, her arms folded.

You shrug in response, “Makes it more interesting though.”

Natasha hums curiously before moving to your side, perching on the edge of your desk. Her narrowed eyes fix on you.

“Is that my hoodie?” she asks in suspicion as she tugs at your sleeve.

“Maybe,” you reply, hastily pulling the hood over your head to conceal your guilty eyes.

Natasha had left the piece of clothing at your place after her last visit, and given the chilly room, borrowing it seemed harmless enough.

“Don’t you have a briefing to get to?” you deflect, attempting to change the subject.

Natasha huffs knowingly before responding, "I had some spare time, so I came to bother you."

"I’m honored," you quip sarcastically, though inwardly your heart warmed at the fact that she thought of you.

Natasha chuckles lightly, then gestures towards your clipboard.

"Ask me some questions," she prompts, her tone playful yet eager.

Deciding to indulge her, you reach for your clipboard and adopt a serious demeanor.

“Name?” you begin.

Natasha shoots you a deadpan look, prompting you to show her the document with the question written on it.

“If they lie about their name, then that’s a red flag already,” you defend, giving her a pointed look.

“Natalie,” you mock.

Natasha chuckles, shaking her head at the memory before extending her hand.

“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects, playing along.

Skipping past the other general questions, you delve into more targeted inquiries related to threat assessment.

“Have you ever been associated with any extremist or radical groups or organizations?” you ask.

“If you consider working undercover to gain intel on them, then yes,” Natasha responds without hesitation.

“Have you ever participated or been involved in any violent behavior where someone was hurt?”

This one makes her pause for a moment before she finally admits softly, "…yes."

As the questioning continues, Natasha's playful demeanor gradually fades, replaced by a rueful tone.

By the time you reach the final question, she places her hand on your clipboard, gently setting it down on the desk.

"Maybe these questions aren’t meant for people like me," she says sadly, her tone filled with regret.

Observing her disappointed expression, you scoot closer and rest your hand on hers to draw her attention.

“Do you still want to hear my final assessment?” you ask gently.

After a contemplative pause, Natasha nods, curiosity evident in her eyes as she gestures for you to continue.

“Well, based on your answers,” you say with a dramatic pause, flipping through the papers before shaking your head firmly.

“Absolutely not. Extremely dangerous. Definitely a high-risk candidate.”

Natasha huffs in disbelief at your teasing and gives you a playful push. As your laughter subsides, you soften your tone, meeting her gaze sincerely.

“But…I’d trust you,” you admit genuinely.

Natasha's eyes widen slightly before she averts her gaze, clearing her throat. Her fingers toy with the clipboard, flipping to the last page and seeing the score sheet, before chuckling in amusement.

Turning back to you, she tilts her head with a raised brow.

“I don’t get the special question?” she asks.

You take the clipboard from her, offering a knowing look as you begin to organize the documents on your desk.

“I think we both already know your answer to that question,” you reply.

“Then ask me another,” Natasha insists.

Her request makes you pause as you ponder what to ask. Only one thing comes to mind, the question you’ve been hesitating to ask her for a long time.

Meeting her expectant gaze, you find yourself wanting to know the answer, despite the fear in your mind at the possibility of causing another big change in your life again.

Summoning your courage, you face her directly.

“Would you…,” you start, faltering momentarily before gathering yourself with a deep breath.

“...would you say ‘yes’ if I asked you out on a date tonight?”

There's a moment of silence, and just as you consider retracting the question, Natasha reaches out and adjusts the hood atop your head.

Perplexed by her action, you watch her suspiciously. Then, in one swift motion, she pulls the hood down over your eyes, obscuring your vision.

“No,” her voice responds to your question.

Hearing her stand, you quickly remove the hood to see Natasha already making her way out of the door, but before she disappears from your view, you catch the red aura surrounding her slowly fading away.

As an excited smile spreads across your face at the revelation of her true answer, your phone on the desk pings with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you see a text from Natasha.

I’ll pick you up tonight. 

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: Thank you for reading! I know I said I was going to take a little break, but I had some time so I ended up finishing this and decided to post it now instead of later.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff

[incorrectquotesmcu]

[Y/N is late]

Natasha: You’re late.

Y/N: You’re pretty.

Natasha: You’re forgiven.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff incorrect quotes #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel incorrect quotes #marvel #avengers #avengers incorrect quotes #source: pretty woman

[doudouneverte]

Choice and Cries

a/n: okay i think i might have a little problem with the sad fic

*not my GIF*

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Belova!Reader; Yelena Belova x Widow!Reader (sister); Natasha Romanoff x Widow!Reader (platonic/sister)

Summary: You are pretty close with the blonde widow, she's like a sister to you of course when she's exposed at the gaz she freed you. After tooke down the red room you start a normal and you met Kate Bishop, you became friend and more but Thanos came and after a choice.

Types: little Fluff and Angst

Warning: mention of Dreykov, mention of Red Room, Thanos, blip, VORMIR!!!!, (no happy ending)

________________

You were the little sister of Yelena Belova. You met her when you were 5 in the red room; Dreykov assigned her to be your 'mentor' and you became pretty close. She promises herself that she'll be the best big sister, just like Natasha was before they were forced to integrate the program and the redhead escaped. You've been her rock since Natasha left and she was yours. Later, after your ceremony, you were sent to Morocco with Yelena and another widow to find an older widow. The blonde found her, she fought her, and before she died, Oxana freed Yelena, so when you found her only a few seconds later, she also freed you (after a little fight of course). You two run away from the red room, and a few weeks later you meet your other big sister, Natalia Romanova, or Natasha Romanoff, as the Americans call her.

You successfully ran away from the Taskmaster (Antonia was really a pain in your a**), and you were now on a bench next to Yelena when Natasha tried to heal her wound. The Avenger sat across the blond and looked at you. "So who are you?" she asked.

"She's Y/n" Yelena replied for you, "Ona moya mladshaya sestra (she's my little sister)." You smiled even if anyone could see you had a special bond with the blonde; they couldn't imagine that one of the world's best assassins could have a little sister. Natasha looked a little confused.

"Y/n Belova, if I may add," you added. And this time it was Yelena's turn to smile. When you join the red room, you didn't have a last name; your parents left you at an orphanage only 6 months after you were born, and except for your name, they didn't give you anything. So after you became more close with Yelena, you asked her if you could use her name, and she was more than excited to know you wanted to be a big part of her life. The Avenger seemed to examine you, and you spoke again, "I'm 16." She looked worried, "But I'll be 17 the next month," and Yelena laughed; she knew you didn't like to be treated like a child, even if she did this herself.

After a little talk, you started to yawn, and before you could understand, you opened your eyes, and you were in the back seat of a car, and Yelena was talking about her vest to Nat. "We all know your vest is cool, sestra, but can I ask where are we going?" The blond looked at you a little worried; she knew her next word would not be easy to hear but she had to.

So she spoke with hesitation, "We're going to take down...the red room." All your body tensed at her word. You didn't want to return to this place, not after your successful escape, not after you started to plan a life without Dreykov. "Lena, we--" you wanted to argue, but your sister cut you off, "Of course you don't have to come if you don't want. We'll find Alexei, and when he tells us where the red room is, Natasha and I will handle this."

You gasped and looked at her: "Are you kidding me? I can't let my..." you paused and looked at Natasha before continuing, "I can't let my two sisters be with the best friend of the man who did THIS to us. Of course I came," you almost yelled at her. Natasha chuckled a little. You didn't hesitate to call her your sister, and even if she knew she had a lot to learn about you, she'll protect you just like she will protect Yelena.

~~

It took a while, but your sisters and you freed Alexei, and you met Melina. You didn't trust them, and when they mentioned the mission in Ohio and you saw Yelena's face, you couldn't help but be angry. The blond has talked to you about her life in Ohio and about her family. You were always happy to see the smile on her face when she talked about it, but now you just want to scold them and leave with your blond sister, but you knew you couldn't, not now. You had a mission to complete before.

Take down the red room was hard, but it's done now, and you were proud of yourself for not being a burden for the older widows. After the family make-up, you wanted to leave with Yelena, Melina, and Alexei, but the blonde proposed something else: "Y/n I know you don't want to get involved with this thing any more. So with Natasha, we thought about something: "You felt the redhead hand on your shoulder and looked at her, and then at Yelena again: "I'll handle the widow, and you'll go to New York with Natasha. You can live a normal life; with normal teens, you'll go to school and maybe find someone," she winked at you after the last part.

"I don't know Lena; I'm more than happy to be with you, and I don't think I can adapt easily," you replied honestly.

"I'll be here for you," Natasha said. "You'll not be alone, and I'll be here to protect you or help you with your new terrible threat." You tilted your head with a confused look, and she added "the homeworks," and everybody laughed. After two week you and Natasha were 'release' by Ross and you went with her when she help her friend to escape. You met a lot of Avengers, and they seemed to appreciate you.

~~

It's been two months since you started high school, and honestly, the widow's job was more easy than dealing with teenagers. One of them tried to make fun of your Russian accent, but apparently that didn't seem to make a certain brunette laugh. She slapped his arm, and when he turned around to see who could possibly do that, he froze. "Excuse him, he's a jerk, don't waste your time with him," the girl said as she approached you.

"Oh, don't worry; I'm unfortunately used to this," you joked. 'damn she's so pretty' you thought. You were lost in her blue eyes, and you saw her hold out one hand.

"I'm Kate Bishop, by the way," she introduced herself, and you shook her hand.

"And I'm gay, Y/n. Y/n Belova," you introduced yourself, but it was the first time 'Y/n Belova' seemed insufficient. After this, you and Kate became friends, and very quickly you became more. You asked her to be your girlfriend after you talked with Natasha about love and feelings. Your life was perfect: you had a beautiful girlfriend, two protective sisters, and a team that could protect you if necessary.At least, until this day. When Thanos' army landed on earth, you were with Kate in her bedroom. You talked about everything and nothing, and when you noticed the ship in the sky, you called Natasha, and she assured you they could handle this themselves. She made a promise to Yelena to never let you get hurt, which is why she didn't let you join the Avengers even if Sam and Steve asked her.

One minute there was chaos, and a minute later the ship just seemed to go back to space. You thought it was time to ask what was happening; you tried to call Nat, but she was fighting in Wakanda, so she didn't reply, and you tried to call Yelena to know if she was okay, but she was freeing a widow, so she didn't reply either. And a few hours after the nightmare started, people started to disappear; they were like dust. During the blip, you lost one of your sisters, and Kate lost her mother. But you were always here for each other for the past five years.

You and Kate were 22 now; it's been five years since Thanos, five years since you both lost someone you loved, but you decided to move forward. Today is a special day for you; you woke up earlier than usual, prepared breakfast, and had a plan for the day. After breakfast, you heard knocks on your door, and you opened it to see the redheaded black widow. You let her in, of course. "Hey, Nat, what's bring you here in the morning?" you asked.

She was about to reply when Kate came: "Hey Natty, I missed you." She hugged her. Natasha was not a hugger, but she let Kate hug her because she knew how important she was to you.

"We found a way to bring them back," the Avenger said. You and Kate exchanged looks, and you stared at Nat for an explanation: "We found a way to bring Yelena and the others back. Bruce and Tony are working on it, but it will be done by tomorrow." Your eyes were now glossy, and you were crying, and Kate wrapped her arms around you. She smiled at Natasha. She didn't know Yelena. She knew she was really important for you, but nothing more. Nat cleared her throat, and you both looked at her. "I think we will need some help, so if you want to come, I think it will be pretty cool."

"Of course we come," Kate replied.

You looked at her and said, "But moya lyubov' (my love), that can be pretty dangerous." She cupped your cheeks, and you melted at the touch.

"If you go, I go. I can't risk losing you." You wanted to protest, but you knew how stubborn she was, so you just nodded and let Nat leave. This night you were on your bed, reading a book, and Kate sat between your legs with her back to you. "Can you braid my hair, hun?" she asked, and you did. There was a comfortable silence when she decided to speak again, "Babe, how is Yelena?" You paused, and you realized you didn't talk a lot about your other sister, not because you didn't want to let Kate know about her, but because you weren't ready to be reminded she was gone. But now you had a chance to bring her back, so why not?

"She is amazing," you started, and even if she didn't see you, your girlfriend knew you had sparkles in your eyes. "Do you remember when I talk about my difficult past?" she nodded. "When I was six months old, my parents left me in an orphanage; they just gave me a name, not love. When I was five, a woman adopted me, at least that's what I thought, but she brought in her hell," you sense Kate tensing a little, "and then I met her; she was nine years older, and Dreykov assigned her to be my mentor, and I spent the next eleven years of my life with her." You wiped away a tear. "I didn't have a last name when I was forced to join the red room, so one day I asked her if I could use hers since we were pretty close, and everyone started to call me her little shadow. When she said yes, I was excited, and since this day, I became—"

"Y/n Belova"  Kate finished for you, and you smiled.

"Yeah. You know she was the best big sister I could imagine; she taught me how to braid  fight, and cook, and when we ran from the red room, we started to learn together how to live."

"You seem to be proud of her," the brunette said.

"Yeah, I'm proud of the person she is. After we took down the red room, she went to free the widow around the world and let me try to live a normal life." You had finished braiding her hair, and you kissed her neck, saying, "Without her, we wouldn't have meet. I'm proud of her and to have her name." There was a silence, and you spoke again, "But Kate, I have something to ask you." She turned to look at you, a little worried, "When you will meet Yelena," you paused and stood from the bed to grab something in your coat's pocket "I don't want to introduce you as my girlfriend." You took a step forward, and Kate looked confused. "Kate Bishop, moy drug, moya lyubov' (my friend, my love), we spent the last five years together, and honestly, if you were not with me, I would probably burst out and did whatever it takes to erase my anger for losing my sister. But you were here, and you are always here, despite the fact that I was a broken student who didn't know how to interact properly with other people, despite the fact that I chose not to be an avenger even if I knew it's your dream, despite the fact that I'm still learning how to be a perfect girlfriend and how to keep a house clean. You were here when I was at my worst; you were and are the reason I smile every day, and I hope you will be the reason I smile in the future." You kneeled in front of her, and she put a hand in front of her mouth "Kate Bishop, will you allow me to be the happiest woman in the world? Will you marry me?"

"Yes, yes, yes, yes. A thousand times YES" She pulled you to kiss her, and you kissed her back. You put the ring on her finger, and she looked at it like it could disappear at any time. You spent the night cuddling and kissing each other.

The next day, you were at the compound with Kate, and the team assigned you to Vormir. You couldn't go to New York with Tony and the other because it will be too weird for you, and you knew Kate would be more interested in Clint, who saved the city by the stones. So you were with Nebula and Rodhey in Morag, and when you were ready to go, Nebula didn't forget to remind you how Vormir was dangerous. You took her hand and looked at her, saying, "Don't worry, Neb, we will be on alert for everything." And without saying another word, you and Kate started to leave.

"You know, I'm really excited to tell the team," Kate said. You both agreed to let the team know about your engagement only after the mission, only after she could speak to her mother.

"Me too," you smiled and squeezed her hand, "I thought about something."

"What?" she replied.

"When we will be married, I think it would be cool if I changed my name to Beloshop or Bishlova." Kate laughed. and you looked at her a little confused. "Why are you laughing?"

"Did you hear what you said, Y/n?" She replied, but she didn't stop.

"What, it's a mix of the two last of my two favorite people; I think it's cute," you pouted, and she calmed a little.

"Yes, it is, but babe, you can't do that; we're not on Tumblr or something like that." You didn't say anything, and she added, "Maybe you can be Mrs. Belova-Bishop."

"Mrs.Belova-Bishop ?" you repeated "Okay, it's more cool than Bishlova or Beloshop. I can't wait to be Mrs. Belova-Bishop," you said with a big smile. You didn't realize you were at your destination until you saw the planet in front of you.

~~

You were now on top of the cliff, and a ghost(?) appeared in front of you and Kate and started to do his speech about the stone, but one sentence caught your attention: 'a soul for a soul'. You looked at the bottom of the climb; you knew exactly what you had to do, but could you really do this? You wanted to bring back your sister, but that meant you had to leave Kate and Natasha behind. You turned around and saw Kate sitting on a log, and you sat next to her. "It's pretty high," you said, and she looked at you.

"Y/n, I swear if you think about it, I will be mad," she replied, and you can feel the sadness in her voice. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders and kissed her temple.

"You know one of us has to do it, detka (baby)," she shook her head.

"Let me do that," she argued.

"Of course not, Katie," you grabbed her face and turned it to you, "Look at me, honey; I will never let you do this. Do you understand me?" She shook her head again.

"If you're not with me, I don't want to return with them. What will I say to Nat and Yelena?" You froze at the blonde's name. "They will want to know why their baby sister didn't come back." you both stood up

"Yeah, but I can't tell Eleanor that I couldn't keep her little girl safe; I made her a promise."

"You also promise to marry me, Y/n. You can't leave me here. I need you. I will need you to try to relax me when we will burn out because of the wedding. I'll need you when we will decide to have a bigger family." She paused a moment. "I'll need you when Yelena will cry for you." she whispered, and your heart broke at the last sentence.

"I'll always be here with you, detka" you pointed at her heart, "I'll never let you go; even dead, I'll continue to love you, to be your Y/n Belova-Bishop." Your eyes were full of tears. You kissed her one last time before whispering near her lips, "I'm so sorry, moya lyubov" You started to run to the cliff, and she stopped you in your run.

"You can't do that to me, please," she started to cry, but you can't return without the stone, you can't let the world like that. You wrapped your hand around her neck and lost your gaze in her eyes. This ocean of love has been yours since the first time you met. You pushed your forehead against her, and she sobbed.

"Thanks you for all, Kate Bishop. Thank you for being my rock. Thank you for never letting me go, even when I was a jerk. Thank you for being patient with me. Thanks for loving me, Kate Bishop-Belova," you smiled, and before she could say anything, you used your widow bites to make her fall near the edge of the cliff and see you. She saw when you jumped, she saw you muttered the last 'i love you', she saw you when your body collided with the ground, but she also saw the smile on your face, the same smile that meant a lot to her, the smile that greeted her every time she came back home or when you were training, the smile you put on the first time you met her and never failed to follow her. It was her favorite smile; it was yours.

When she came back, everyone saw her crying, but Natasha didn't see you. Her heart started to beat faster; her worries were consuming her, and she asked only one question, "Kate, where is Y/n?" and at this time, everybody seemed to notice that you were not here, and your fiancé cried more. The room was drowned by the brunette's cries when she replied.

"I'm sorry, Nat," she sobbed again. "I'm really sorry."

~~

A whole month later, Yelena was in the middle of nowhere near New York. She walked for a while before stopping in front of the grave; she kneeled, cleaned some leaves, and pressed her forehead on the stone. When she stood up, she looked at the tombstone for a while.

Y/N BELOVA-BISHOP

SISTER WIFE AND AVENGER

~~~~The~END~~~~

#kate bishop #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x fem!reader #kate bishop x you #yelena belova #yelena belova x fem!reader #yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova x fem reader #sister!yelena #widow!reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #natasha romonova #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #sister!natasha #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #kate bishop angst

[rxmqnova]

Y/N: *running towards Natasha with open arms*

Natasha: *moves out of the way*

Y/N: Hey, why'd you move?!

Natasha: I thought you were going to attack me.

Y/N: I was going to hug you!

Natasha: Why would you hug me?

Y/N: WHY WOULD I ATTACK YOU!?

#source: incorrect quotes generator #incorrect marvel quotes #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you

[elaci]

One For The Road

The morning after what's meant to be a one-night-stand, Nat convinces you to stay in bed a little longer.

cw; mentions of drunk sex, thigh riding n pussy eating as god intended

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader | 18+ mdni

Nat, she told you to call her.

The woman whose taste still stains your lips, whose touch still burns your skin and voice still purrs in your memory. The woman whose bed you wake naked in, with her arms snaked around your waist.

She’s warm in a way that makes you think, for a moment as you wake, that this is familiar. You’re more comfortable than you’ve been in months, her bed plush but firm enough to support you and the gentle ache of your body after her extensive ministrations the night before.

The sun has long risen, and shines through her window in such a way that the room is bathed in radiant golden hues. You turn a little, still half-drunk on sleep, and take in the sight of Nat as she sleeps soundly. You know you should get up while you can, leave without the awkward goodbyes that follow a one night stand, but her skin is so soft and her arm such a comfort around your waist that you feel wholly stuck in place. You wonder if you could get away with closing your eyes and drifting off for a few more minutes.

“Better not be thinking about leaving me,” her voice breaks the morning silence. You turn your head and meet her eyes, tired and heavy with sleep but still boring into yours under the morning gold.

You offer her a gentle smile. “Go back to sleep,” you hum. “I’ll get out of your hair and call you later, yeah?”

You aren’t sure you even have her number saved in your phone, or where your phone is, for that matter. Despite the pang in your chest at the thought of never crossing paths with Nat again, you take the high road and move to get out of bed. Her arm tightens around your waist before you get the chance.

“Nope,” she mumbles, pulling you into her body. Skin against skin, it brings back memories of the night before that you doubt you’ll rid the taste from your lips. Nat manages to press a kiss to your collarbone. “I’m not done with you.”

She kisses you again, and again, peppering open mouthed kisses across the expanse of your chest, each time eliciting a shiver in their wake.

Your judgement isn't clouded by alcohol anymore, you can feel each trace of her lips like fire against your skin as she trails soft kisses up the column of your neck. Every breath sends your blood rushing south. You can barely manage the words you speak, drunk once again with desire.

“I thought…” you gasp when she bites at your pulsepoint. “You said last night was a one time thing.”

Nat pulls away to look at you with raised eyebrows, you grieve the loss of contact. “You think I tell the truth when I’m drunk?”

She traces a nail down your bare chest, underneath the sheet that covers the two of you, tracing invisible designs against your rib cage until your skin feels impossibly tight. You’re lost for words again, and she takes advantage of the moment, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips.

“Stay, and let me taste you again,” her tone is steady. “Or get out of my bed, you gorgeous piece of shit, and make breakfast.”

Your mind betrays you, throws away all rules and notions of a one-night-stand and moves your body on your behalf. You’re catching her lips in a kiss before you can register the hand that slips from your stomach to your thigh. You taste alcohol, and the remnants of a cigarette you barely remember her slipping out of your arms to smoke on the balcony. She takes your bottom lip between her teeth and bites down, shooting the most beautiful pain right from your lips down to your pulsing core.

Her grip is strong on your leg, fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh as if she’s trying to stake her claim on you. It’s a feeling that drives lust through you like electricity: the notion of being desired, owned. When she pulls the sheet off of the both of you and climbs over your naked frame, you feel like a woeful miscreant for ever thinking of leaving this bed. Your heart beats so hard it almost hurts. You wonder if, when her mouth latches onto one of your peaked nipples, she can feel the thrum of your heart against her lips.

“God,” starved, she presses a kiss to your other breast. “I should tie you to this bed, keep you here until you’re too fucked out to remember your own name.”

“Nat—” you try, entranced by whatever spell she’s washing over you. Her kisses trail down your stomach.

“That’s right,” she groans against your hip bone. “Let me make you mine.”

“Yes,” you vocalise your consent, but Nat tuts.

“Say please.”

“Please.”

With not even a second to spare, Nat is delving between your thighs for a taste of your lust. She groans against your pussy, already high off the taste she’s gotten, and latches her lips onto your clit in an assault fueled by need and need alone. She’s a woman with a mission, and you feel dizzy with desire for more already. You want her inside of you, her body as tightly pressed against yours as she can manage. You ache for every inch of her. For everything.

For now, though, she does what she knows you need. Your hand snakes down to grab at her red hair as her tongue works violently against your clit until you’re a writhing mess beneath her.

Once you’re close enough to the edge that you’re seeing stars, Nats scalp must burn from the stress of your pulling. Trying anything to get closer, become one with the woman so pussydrunk she’s moaning against your clit like she’s the one being unravelled.

Being as coy as she is, however, you can feel her smile against your pussy as you come close to orgasm. Just as your toes curl and a sobbed moan starts to break from your chest, Nat pulls away and leaves you bucking your hips into the air for any semblance of stimulation. You could cry.

“Had to punish you somehow for thinking you could sneak away,” Nat pushes herself up to your face, you can see a gloss of your arousal coating her lips and chin from her messy ministrations. “Sorry.”

You’re about to comment, through babbled words, that she doesn’t sound sorry when her lips meet yours once more. The kiss is messy and harsh, your teeth click together and tongues meet and you can taste yourself. She is one to share, after all. The taste of your lust mixed with the intoxicant of her lips is almost enough for you to forgive her for your ruined orgasm. Almost.

When Nat pulls away, wiping her lips with the back of her hand to maintain at least a little composure, she catches your frown and mirrors it with her own.

“What’s wrong?” She pouts, her tone mocking in a way that makes your body ache to be filled by her.

“You know what’s wrong.”

Her frown fades, and her replacing smile worsens your ache. Her chest heaves with laboured breath as Nat repositions herself, straddling one of your thighs and lowering herself against your skin.

She must have gotten off on your taste alone, because she’s wetter than you’d think reasonable. A slut for servicing you, it seems.

You lay in silence, looking breathlessly up at the woman from the bar as she starts ever so slowly rocking her hips. The sharp inhale as her clit grinds against your skin, made easy by her arousal that coats your thigh. Part of you wants to take control, grab Nat's beautiful hips and hold her down against your thigh as she rides you until her vision is tunnelled and blood boiling. The other part of you, the part that wins, can’t move an inch at the sight of the redhead using your body as nothing but a tool to get herself off with.

The sweetest of moans fall from her lips and into the air around you, a song of pleasure you doubt you’ll ever forget. You think if this goes on long enough, you could come from the sight alone: how her body moves as she rides your thigh, the bounce of her peaked breasts as her pace quickens and sounds get louder and skin gets hotter. If you’ve died and gone to heaven, you pray there’s no such thing as resurrection.

The jolts in Nats movement are a testament to her impending orgasm, she’s close, and you can tell. You almost want to buck her off you as payback for ruining your orgasm just before, but every thought of revenge is washed clean from your mind when she reaches down and slips two fingers inside of you without warning.

“You’re gonna come for me,” she bites, hips rocking against your thigh at an ungodly pace. “You’re going to come with me.”

It’s no request. It’s an order.

Nats fingers are skilled, she scissors them inside of you and circles your clit in tandem with her thumb. It’s a celestial experience, the devotion of her fingers inside of you, curling to meet your g-spot as she abuses your clit in the same motion. The sight of her losing herself as she rides your thigh to the end of her sanity— the mess of her hair and glaze of her eyes as he watches you.

“Come.”

All it takes is a word, and you’re coming unmoored beneath Nat. Black spots flood your vision as you drool a string of ‘thank you’ into the sex-heavy air. Nat shakes against your thigh, so deep in her own orgasm that she doesn’t bother to pull her fingers out of you, working on muscle memory.

You just reach the brink of tears, overstimulated as Nat returns to her right mind. You’d bet on giving her the satisfaction of pulling another orgasm from you, but she comes right and pulls her fingers away just in time to let you breathe.

The sun's golden morning glow has since passed, you aren’t sure how long you’ve been away in Nirvana. Nat brings her fingers to her mouth and licks them clean, a pornographic sight that has your glossy eyes wide. Sweat coats both of your skin, breath shared between you are laboured and heavy, and the sun seems cold in comparison to the heat of your skin.

Nat rolls off you, leaving a glistening mess on your thigh and a cold loss at her missing heat against you. When she speaks, her voice is quiet and gentle. “You were perfect.”

Another kiss as she leans over and pecks your lips. A goodbye kiss, maybe— or a ‘thank you’. She moves away, swings her legs over the side of her bed to get up and rub at her eyes, sleep still plagues her.

“I’ll uh, get you some water and find where I threw your clothes last night,” she hums. “The shower is just through those doors, if you—-”

Natasha Romanoff is stitched silent by the hand that grabs her wrist, and the body that climbs over to straddle her lap. Your eyes, dark as they look down at her and lift her chin to force her gaze. The low words you speak by her ear, poison as you parrot her own words back to her.

“Nope. I’m not done with you yet.”

req rules ⁞ request here | crossposted on ao3

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