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[charmingly-helpless]

[charmingly-helpless]

happiness

pairing: jennifer jareau x fem!reader

warnings: tooth rotting fluff. mostly smut, dirty smut. i need water

word count: 1534

Read on AO3

JJ’s lithe fingers brushed her overgrown bangs out of her eyes as she stood taking in the sight of her baby peacefully asleep on your chest. A part of her felt bad that she called you over after you had just returned from a long and tiring case, but she was beyond thankful for the help after she failed to calm Henry down for hours on end. Plus, how could she stay sad while she was watching the two people she loved snuggling together?

JJ quietly snuck over to take a seat next to you on the couch, resting her cheek on your shoulder.

“I owe you,” she rasped tiredly. “What would I do without you?”

“You don’t ever have to think about that,” you replied softly, “and I’m your girlfriend, I told you I’m in this with you and Henry—you definitely do not owe me for this.”

With a weary sigh, JJ nuzzled her head into the crook of your neck. 

“Well, too bad… I was going to reward you,” the blonde murmured, the corner of her mouth twitching up in the ghost of a smile.

A hot blush filled your cheeks.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” JJ looked down, making sure Henry was out. “Want that reward now?”

You wordlessly got off the couch and beelined to the nursery, depositing Henry into his crib. You left the newborn with a soft kiss on his forehead and a whisper of “I love you” before heading to JJ’s bedroom, where she was sitting at the foot of the bed, looking more exhausted than before.

A low hum fell from JJ’s lips as she looked up at you, her blue hues flicking between your eyes and your lips. She reached out and hugged your waist, tugging you closer.

“You don’t have to do anything, baby. You need your sleep,” you said softly, knowing that she hadn’t been getting a full night’s sleep since Henry was born.

JJ sighs. “No, no. I want you. I need you. I need to feel you.”

You hummed lowly at the light kisses she was peppering against the skin of your hips. You picked her up and moved to the middle of the bed, gently lowering her down.

“Let me do the work, hm?” you murmured.

A shiver ran up JJ’s spine as she felt your breath against her skin, goosebumps rising across her arms as your caresses moved down her body. 

“Please,” she whispers. 

You pulled her clothes off, tossing it to the side and lowering your lips to trail kisses from her neck to her hips. Once you were hovering right over where she needed you, you placed little nips at the soft plush of her thighs, feeling her squirm.

“Please touch me,” JJ whimpered, her eyes fluttering shut as her hips arched up to meet you. Her body tingled with need as you continued to tease her.

“What do you need?”

JJ took a ragged breath. “Your mouth, please. I need—”

You placed an open-mouthed kiss over her core, feeling her warmth against your tongue. JJ broke off in a soft moan as you wrapped an arm around each thigh to hold her in place. Your tongue moved against her, adjusting your ministrations based on her moans and the arches of her back.

A sharp bolt of pleasure shot through the blonde’s body igniting every nerve. She couldn’t stop her moans, prompting you to reach up and cover her mouth with a hand.

You took a quick breath of air before diving back down, pressing the tip of your nose against her throbbing clit while your tongue thrust into her. JJ whimpered as you worked your magic, bringing her closer to the edge. Her thighs trembled with every swirl of your tongue, and within seconds she came undone with a strangled moan.

You continued to lap at her, greedily drinking up every last drop of her. You finally pulled away with the lower half of your face smeared with her slick and moved up to kiss her. JJ melted into the kiss, arms wrapping around your neck to pull you impossibly closer. She could taste herself on your tongue, sending another wave of arousal crashing into her. She bit down gently on your bottom lip, her hips rolling against you as she moaned.

“I need more,” she whispered, her voice coming out as a whine, “I need your strap, please, baby.”

Your pupils expanded at her words in addition to the sight of her underneath you. You grabbed the strap out of the bedside table, stripping yourself of your clothes and doing up the harness all while JJ watched you with attentive eyes. Your body hummed with excitement as you climbed back on top of her, pulling her hips closer to yours. JJ captured your lips in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss. 

With your hand you guided the strap to swipe over her slick folds, pulling a moan from her lips. JJ’s hips arched into your touch, her fingers digging into your shoulders. 

“God, you tease,” she whined, head falling against the pillows.

You smiled and pushed the whole length of the toy into her, making her gasp. Her legs parted immediately as her hands fisted the bedsheets.

“Y/N,” she whispered like a prayer. “Move, please.”

You pushed your hips back and forth, starting at a steady pace. One hand pinned the blonde’s hips to the bed while the other lovingly raked through the strands of hair sprawled across the pillow like a halo. JJ looked angelic underneath you, and you swear your heart physically aches in your chest from how much love you were feeling.

“Oh, god, yes. Just like that, baby,” JJ said through ragged breaths.

You leaned down to suckle the skin on her neck, leaving light hickeys. Your hips kept the pace, thrusts slow but powerful, passionate. You groaned in her ear. 

“You are so beautiful, Jen.”

Every kiss, every touch, every thrust drew a soft moan from JJ, the sounds of her pleasure in the air around you. JJ’s hands flew to your back, legs wrapped around your hips to pull you closer, deeper.

“You feel so good.”

“You’re such a good girl for me, baby,” you praised her, making her quiver.

“Yes, yes,” JJ panted. “I’m your good girl, all yours.”

You moaned softly at her words. The toy on your end was stimulating your clit, driving you closer to your climax, and you knew JJ was too.

“Come whenever you want, baby,” you told her, “it’s all yours.”

As you picked up the pace, JJ’s body shook with overwhelming pleasure. She’s close, so close, your words bringing her over the edge. You moved your hand to press on JJ’s lower belly, feeling the strap going in and out of her, causing you to throw your head back as you came undone.

JJ’s body arched at the pressure of your hand, a strangled moan leaving her kiss-swollen lips as she fell apart. The sight of you climaxing was what pushed her over the edge into glorious pleasure.

You continued your thrusts to draw out JJ’s orgasm. Eventually, JJ fell against the bed completely spent and you pulled out the strap and took off the harness. You tossed it on top of your pile of clothes to be dealt with in the morning and collapsed onto the bed with JJ.

JJ used the last of her strength to move herself on top of you, cuddling into your warm body.

“I love you,” she murmured as she melted into your chest.

You pressed a tender kiss to her sweaty forehead. “I love you, too.”

JJ sighed, kissing the underside of your jaw. “God, I needed that. Thank you.”

“Get some sleep, baby. Don’t worry about Henry; I’ve got him.”

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The first rays of sunlight crept through the curtains, slowly lighting up the room little by little.

JJ stirred slightly, a soft hum falling from her lips as she came to. She blinked blearily, slowly processing her surroundings. It took her a moment to remember the night before, but when she did, a sleepy smile pulled at her lips.

She rolled over to find you asleep beside her, the sight causing her smile to widen. She takes a moment to watch you, to take in every detail of you laid out in her bed like this.

You were pulled out of dreamland by fingers running through your hair. Your eyes opened to the most beautiful sight of the blonde in bed with you, the morning sunlight glowing across her features.

“Hey. Did Henry wake up again?”

JJ shook her head, her hand continuing to card through your hair in a soothing motion.

“No, he hasn’t yet. You were up all night with him, hm?”

“It’s okay. You needed your rest, and I wanted to do that for you.”

JJ smiled softly. “You didn’t have to. But I really appreciate it.”

A comfortable silence lingered between the two of you as you shared a peaceful moment. JJ’s eyes crinkled in a smile as she looked into your eyes. “You have no idea how happy you make me.”

“You are happiness, Jennifer Jareau.”

[charmingly-helpless]

forever (pt 3)

A/N: contains some dialogue from CM:E 17x06, but you won't know what it is unless you've watched it.

pairing: jennifer jareau x fem!reader

warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of smut & nudity

word count: 1416

Read on AO3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The open window let in a cool breeze, gently blowing strands of blonde hair in an ethereal manner. You watched as JJ sipped from her glass of wine, tucking her hair behind her ear. 

“Honestly? I don’t know,” JJ replied to your question. “It’s… strange. I never thought I’d be a divorced mom. I’ve loved Will for so long. But over time our relationship just went downhill, so slowly that we didn’t even notice until it was too late to save it.”

Your hand slipped to her knee naturally, providing comfort and support. The touch of your hand sent a shiver up JJ’s spine, but she kept her composure.

“How are the kids doing with this?” you asked, genuine concern in your tone.

JJ’s expression softened at the mention of her kids.

“They’re coping, I guess. It’s hard on them, obviously. They’re so young, they don’t understand why their parents can’t be together. I think Henry’s noticed that Will and I don’t really get along, but Michael is practically still a baby. When it’s one of us in the house, they keep asking when the other will come back home.”

At the quiver in her voice, you scooted closer to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“Don’t blame yourself for this, Jayje. Some parents stay together for the kids, but that just subjects them to a lot more hurt and resentment down the road. I know that you and Will have your kids’ best interests in your heart, and this was the best decision for your family. It’ll get easier, for you and for the kids.”

JJ appreciated your words. She had been struggling with the burden of knowing that her kids were hurt because she and Will couldn’t save their marriage, but your reassurance brought her some measure of relief.

JJ’s hand laid on top of yours. “Thank you, Y/N. I hope you’re right.”

“Oh, Jay… I’m always right,” you joked to lift the mood, earning a laugh from JJ.

Her smile faded slightly, her expression becoming more serious.

“I don’t deserve you.”

Your heart melted at her quiet confession.

“You deserve good things, Jen. You deserve to be happy.”

JJ desperately wanted to believe your words, but the guilt and self-doubt was lingering in her mind. 

“I want to be happy. You make me happy.”

The admission hung in the air, raw and vulnerable. JJ felt a wave of anxiety as she waited for your reaction. She was silently praying she hadn’t crossed any boundaries.

Suddenly, you smiled and JJ’s worries washed away. “You have no idea how happy you make me.”

“How happy?”

You realized how close your faces were, your noses just inches apart. JJ’s gaze was unrelenting. 

“Did you know I was going to quit a few years back?”

JJ’s eyebrow raised in curiosity. “You were going to quit?”

You nodded. “After Atlanta. This job takes a toll on you. I’d been struggling with it for years before that, but that case… I didn’t think I could ever come back from that.”

JJ watched you subconsciously trace your thigh where your scar was hidden under the fabric of your pants. 

“This job takes a lot. But you know what it gives? It gives me you. I decided to stay because it’s where you are.”

JJ’s jaw hung as she absorbed your confession. “I… I don’t know what to say. I never realized… that I had such an impact on you. On your career.”

You nod, holding back your tears. “You do. In every aspect of my life.”

JJ’s eyes became blurry with tears, a mix of gratitude and regret. You reached up to brush back the hair in her face, letting your hand linger on her cheek.

JJ swallowed hard under your intense gaze, taking in every detail and features of her face.

“I think I’ve loved you for a very long time,” the blonde confessed. “I just didn’t let myself realize it.”

When you stayed quiet waiting for her to keep talking, JJ cleared her throat.

“I’d been trying to fight it the whole time,” she admitted. “Convincing myself that I didn’t feel this way. At first, I was just scared that you’d reject me. Then when I got pregnant and married Will, I knew it was too late. But it’s exhausting, Y/N. I don’t want to pretend.”

You licked your dry lips. “You don’t have to pretend. Not anymore.”

You pulled JJ into your space, holding her flush against your body. JJ sighed deeply, feeling the tension in her shoulders release once she was wrapped in your protective arms.

A comfortable silence stretched out between you. JJ pulled back slightly, her big blue eyes meeting yours, and the rest of the world melted away for just a moment.

“I think I should head home.”

“Do you need a ride?” you asked, though neither of you made a move to let go of one another.

JJ shook her head. “No. The hotel’s just down the block, but thank you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in question.

“You’ve been at a hotel? Jay, you know you can stay here with me.”

“It’s alright, Y/N. I’m just there while I look for an apartment close to the house.”

“Come on, stay. You can search for an apartment without having to keep paying hundreds for your hotel room.”

JJ sighed. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. It’ll be like old times,” you smiled. “Y’know, without the whole ‘apartment on fire’ thing.”

A laugh erupted from JJ. “I still cannot believe you set your apartment on fire. It was truly a gift to see you at my door at 2am, drenched from the sprinklers.”

You pouted, gently pushing JJ away. “It was eight years ago, let it go.”

“Sorry, sorry,” JJ giggled, the sound making you smile. 

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You and JJ made a plan to check out of the hotel room tomorrow morning and bring her belongings to your apartment. For now, it was late, and you were both ready for bed.

“Where are you going?”

You turned to JJ. “Uh, the couch?”

JJ sat up, the covers slipping down from her shoulders. You had to admit, it was a surreal, yet beautiful sight: her in your clothes, hair slightly mussed, sitting in your bed. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, we’ve shared a bed many times.”

You shrugged. “I wasn’t sure where we stood.”

JJ patted the empty side of the bed. “Get your ass over here.”

You giggled, climbing in under the covers. JJ clicked off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness aside from the hallway light that shone in through the cracked door.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Jayje,” you pressed a kiss to her forehead.

It took only a moment for JJ to give into her desires. She swung a leg over your hips, straddling you as she leaned down, staring at your lips.

“Can I?” she asked breathily.

You gave a frantic nod, and your lips met in a passionate kiss. Your senses were filled with the taste of her lips, her skin against yours, and the faint vanilla perfume she always wears. JJ’s hands cradled your face while yours held onto her waist. The blonde let out soft sighs into the hungry kiss, her hands wandering down to clutch at your shoulders.

The night was filled with a whirlwind of emotions and sensations as you both explored each other’s bodies and souls. By the time dawn broke, both of you were spent, boneless, and satisfied. JJ’s head rested on your chest, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, a soothing comfort. You breathed in the scent of JJ, relishing in the perfect fit of her body against yours.

JJ smushed her face in the valley between your breasts. “I don’t want to move.”

You chuckled, a hand raking through the mess of blonde hair. “Me neither.”

The two of you savored the warmth in each other’s proximity. You were content to stay just like this, wrapped up in each other’s arms, and let the world wait,

“Just a few more minutes?” JJ asked, her voice hoarse with sleep.

“We have forever.”

JJ’s heart skipped a beat at your effortless reply. The word “forever” carried such weight and promise, making her chest feel tight with emotion. 

You glanced down to see her already looking back at you. The tenderness and affection in her eyes made your breath catch.

“Forever,” she echoed, the word a whispered vow.

[charmingly-helpless]

forever (pt 2)

A/N: teehee

pairing: jennifer jareau x fem!reader

warnings: none

word count: 865

Read on AO3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

It was only a few hours later when your sulking was interrupted by your phone. You picked it up from the coffee table and stared at the contact name in surprise before accepting the call.

“Jen?”

JJ sighed over the phone. “Hey.”

You took note of the slight slurring in her words. “Hey.”

“I didn’t think you’d pick up.”

“Of course I’ll pick up, always.”

JJ hummed quietly at your words. “Can I come over? Please?”

You inhaled, thinking about where you left off your conversation earlier that night.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea—”

“Please, Y/N.”

With a sigh, you replied, “You’re drunk. I’ll come over to you.”

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Fifteen minutes later, you sat on JJ’s couch uncomfortably, a gap in between your bodies.

“You don’t have to sit so far away,” JJ said.

“I’m fine here.”

You felt JJ’s eyes staring holes into your head while you kept your eyes on the interesting potted plant sitting in the corner of the living room.

“Where is everyone?”

JJ shuffled on the couch, pulling her feet under her legs. “Will is on a business trip. The kids are at a sleepover.”

You nodded, playing with the cuffs of your shirt sleeve.

“If I didn’t marry Will, would you have made a move?” JJ blurted, surprising the both of us.

“Don’t say that, Jay,” you sighed. “Don’t think about the what-ifs. Will is an amazing partner to you. He gave you Henry and Michael. He’s a great dad. You two are wonderful together.”

JJ swore she could feel her heart physically wrench in her chest. “I know. But if I didn't…?”

You hesitated to answer. “Yeah, probably.”

“I’m getting a divorce.”

JJ silently scolded herself for her wine-induced word vomiting. She saw the concern and curiosity in your wide eyes as you stared at her.

“You’re not just saying that because of tonight, are you?”

Shaking her head quickly, JJ explained. “Will and I have been separated for the past month. I lied; he isn’t on a business trip, he’s living with his old college friend.”

You stared at her in shock at the information. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You put your head into your hands. “Oh my god, Jay. And I’ve been treating you so horribly, on top of that. I’m so sorry.”

JJ put a hand on your back.

“Y/N, you didn’t know. It’s in the past, I forgive you, I promise.”

“Are you okay?” you sat up to face her.

“I’m okay. It was a mutual decision; it was best for us and the kids.”

You studied the woman sitting next to you, her body bathed in the warm glow of a lamp in the corner of the room. Her hair was slightly mussed and her cheeks were rosy from the wine. Your eyes flickered down to her lips before you turned away.

“I should go.”

“Before I do something I might regret,” you thought.

“Oh, okay,” JJ said sadly.

“I’ll, uh… see you at work tomorrow,” you lingered by the door.

“Yeah.”

You sighed, closing the door behind you, leaving JJ alone in an empty house with only her feelings.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Over the next three weeks both you and JJ spent a lot of time separately reflecting on your feelings about your situation. The recent case was a saving grace in distracting you; it also helped that JJ stayed behind to work from the office with Penelope, so the pressure was off your shoulders for just a few days.

The team had gotten off the jet, tired and ready to go home. You walked with Emily to your cars.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Emily bumped her shoulder into yours. 

“Night, Em.”

JJ was one of the last ones leaving the office as she was stuck with a mountain of paperwork. The elevator doors opened and she spotted you and Emily saying goodnight to each other, the physical contact not going unnoticed by her. She pushed down the pang of jealousy, knowing it was completely irrational.

“Jay,” you called her name, having spotted her getting off the elevator. She walked over to you, her car parked next to yours.

“Hi, Y/N.”

Your heart skipped a beat at your name falling from her lips, realizing how much you missed her. You ached for her touch, to wrap your arms around her.

“Hey, you. I was surprised you didn’t come with us.”

JJ shrugged. “I had to sort out some things over here.”

You smiled politely. “Everything okay now?”

“Yeah,” JJ breathed, the relief in her composure noticeable. “Actually, uh… I finalized my divorce with Will two days ago.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh?”

JJ chuckled nervously. “That’s why I stayed behind. But, uh… It’s done.”

You stared at her for a moment, searching for the right response.

“Congradolences,” you said.

JJ laughed at the inside joke between the two of you, the familiarity bringing a sense of comfort. 

“Thanks. That’s exactly how I feel about this.”

You smiled warmly. “Want company? Or do you need to be with the kids?”

The question lingered in the air as you watched JJ weigh her options in her head.

“Will has the kids tonight,” she finally said, “so… I’d love that.”

[charmingly-helpless]

forever

A/N: i love jj so much can the CM:E writers stop torturing her pls

pairing: jennifer jareau x fem!reader

warnings: angst, reader being mean, sad jj

word count: 864

Read on AO3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You and JJ have been fighting a lot lately. The tension between you was obvious to the team, who were growing concerned about your sudden hostility towards JJ who had been your best friend for the past decade you’ve been working together.

The team was at Rossi’s for dinner and everyone had had enough of the squabble between two of their coworkers. Hotch pushed you and JJ into a room, threatening to suspend you if you didn’t “figure your shit out.” 

“Y/N, I really don’t wanna do this, either. Let’s just pretend we’re talking about it, and get out of here,” JJ sighed deeply, sipping from her glass of wine.

You stood by the window with your arms crossed, frowning like a petulant child.

JJ’s footsteps grew closer to you. 

“You’re mad at me,” she said softly. “And I’m trying hard not to get annoyed, Y/N, I really am. But it’s been the same cycle week after week: you pick a fight with me over something small, and you won’t tell me what it was… then we argue for a few days, I apologize, and nothing changes.”

“I thought you said we were going to pretend to talk about it,” you said flatly.

“Right,” JJ exhaled deeply and looked towards the door where she was sure someone—Penelope— was trying to eavesdrop. “Please, can you just tell me what’s going on?”

You sighed, downing the rest of your drink. “It’s stupid.”

JJ rolled her eyes, most definitely annoyed now. She knew you were trying to avoid the conversation.

“Come on,” she pleaded, placing her hand on your shoulder to make you turn around to face her. “If it really is stupid, we can solve it quickly.”

Your words came out as a whisper. “It could change everything.”

JJ’s eyes softened as she sensed your anxiety. She stayed quiet as she watched you find the courage to speak.

“I’m in love with you.”

JJ was momentarily paralyzed at your confession, the realization hitting her like a punch in the gut. 

“I’ve been in love with you since you joined the team. Back when you were just a media liaison. But we were never more than just friends… I wasn’t even sure if you liked women that way. Then you started seeing Will, and you married him. Lately I’ve been reflecting on my own life, what I couldn’t have… who I couldn't have. I thought if I pushed you away it would be easier to get over you,” you chuckled bitterly. “It’s not working.”

JJ’s heart ached as she listened to you pour your heart out. It all made sense now. How could she have been so oblivious?

“Y/N,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, “I had no idea.”

“I know. I’m sorry. For… the way I’ve been treating you. For everything.”

JJ reached out to take your hand, instinctively running her thumb over your skin. 

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve seen it. We’ve been friends for so long, I should have known…”

You shrugged. “Yeah, well, what are you gonna do? Are you even… Do you like women romantically?”

The question hit JJ like a ton of bricks. This was something she had grappled with for years, something she had never truly admitted to herself but also not ignored.

“That’s a loaded question,” she sighed.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. You don’t need to tell me anything.”

JJ shook her head, squeezing your hand.

“It’s okay.” 

She took a moment to gather her thoughts. “I’ve… I’ve always been drawn to both men and women. It’s just that it wasn't something I had ever really explored… I never really allowed myself to.”

Your mouth opened slightly in shock. “Oh.”

There was a moment of silence between you two, filled with the background noise of the party. JJ was quiet as she stared at your intertwined hands. 

JJ reached up and wiped your cheek, and it was only then that you realized you had been crying. You pulled away and wiped your face.

“I can’t keep doing this with you,” you sniffled, “the little touches, the small gestures, and pretend that I don’t feel anything beyond platonic love for you.”

JJ frowned, looking down at her hands. Those innocent touches had always been present in your friendship, but they took on a deeper meaning now.

“I understand,” she said. “But I care about you, Y/N. I don’t want this to pull us apart.”

You sighed, leaning against the desk. “I see no other way around this, Jennifer.”

JJ felt a wave of resignation wash over her at your use of her name, desperate to fix this mess.

“So what do we do? What do you need me to do?”

“I don’t know. Maybe just… give me some space for a while. Only interact at work when we have to. I need time to sort out my feelings,” you suggested, a lump growing in your throat.

JJ nodded slowly.

“Okay.”

You took a deep breath, the air between you two heavy with unresolved emotions. You swallowed thickly and looked up at JJ.

“Sorry, Jayje.”

JJ watched you leave the room without a word.

[charmingly-helpless]

the agent and the killer (pt 2)

pairing: unsub!emily prentiss x agent!reader

warnings: SMUT!!, talks of murder

word count: 1237

Read on AO3

Part 1 Part 2

A few weeks have passed since Emily intruded your house. When the team arrived that night, you easily lied to them, saying that someone had broken into your kitchen while you were upstairs. What they didn’t know was that you’d wiped off Emily’s fingerprints from the door and cleaned her shoe tracks off the floor. With nothing much to go on, and nothing stolen, the team left with an officer stationed outside your door.

Since your encounter, Emily couldn’t stop thinking about you. No matter how she tried to shake it from her mind, she couldn’t help but feel the strong pull towards you, like a moth to the flame. 

She sat alone in her apartment on her couch, drinking a glass of whiskey as she tried to figure things out. Suddenly, the sound of her phone ringing pulled her out of her thoughts. Emily picked it up, seeing the “Unknown Number” lighting up on her screen. She hesitated for a moment before pressing the green button in curiosity.

“Hi, Emily.”

Emily’s brows furrowed in surprise as she recognized your voice. “Agent (Y/L/N). This is my burner phone, how did you get this number?”

“Penelope isn’t the only technologically gifted person on the team.”

Emily could practically hear your smirk through the phone. 

“So, you found my number. What is it you wish to talk about? Or… Did you call only to hear my voice?” Emily asked the question mockingly, but she secretly hoped that was the reason why.

“I have questions. And I want answers.”

Emily rolls her eyes and falls back on the couch. “Well then, let’s hear them.”

“Why me? Because I took your job? Or for other reasons? I’m not your usual type.”

“Not my type for victims, no,” Emily smirks. “You’re young and alone. You’re an easy target. You’re involved with my old team, which gives me a fun challenge. And… maybe you just caught my eye.”

“I caught your eye, hm?”

“Shut up.”

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t turn you in.”

“Only one? Let me think…” Emily took a sip of her drink. “You’re just as attracted to me as I am to you. You’re curious how far we could take this.”

Emily smiled after your sigh over the phone. “You can deny it all you want, agent. But I know you’ll regret it if you turned me in. There’s a pull between us, and I know we won’t be able to ignore it. So… What happens now, then, agent? Will you turn me in?”

Across town, your eyes fall closed at the sound of Emily’s seductive voice, your desire hard to deny.

“I’m coming over.”

You hung up the phone before Emily could reply, and made a mad dash to your car.

Just ten minutes later Emily was alerted by a knock at her door. The moment she opened the door, you crashed your lips against hers, hands landing on her hips.

A small moan of shock escapes Emily’s lips as she shut and locked the door, kissing you back. Her hands wander up and down your side, guiding you to the couch. The taste of whiskey lingered on Emily’s lips, making you groan softly. Your body shivered under Emily’s cold hands that had found their way under your shirt, pressing against your hot skin.

You slipped your hands under her thighs, lifting her up. A small noise of surprise tumbles out of Emily’s lips as you trap her against the wall. At this new position, she wraps her legs around your hips, bringing you impossibly close. Your mind grows hazy with hunger and lust, and Emily’s head spins with desire. She couldn’t get enough, she needed more of you.

Emily’s eyes widen in surprise when you suddenly turn and set her down on the couch, her breathing coming in short pants as she looks up at you. You crawled over her body, holding yourself up with one arm while the other moved to the waistband of her sweatpants. When Emily gives you a nod of consent, your hand slips under and comes in contact with her heat while you sucked at her neck.

Emily was a moaning mess under your fingers and kisses, her breath catching in her throat as she approached the edge. 

“Oh my god…” she whispered softly, twisting her fingers in your hair. 

Finally, the band in her stomach snapped and Emily groaned your name in pure bliss into your ear. You slowed your hand, gently guiding her down from her high, relishing in your ability to make her feel good.

As Emily’s breathing evened out, you sat back, the shame of the situation eating at you. Emily opened her eyes after a few moments to look at you, feeling the shift in the air and sensing your sudden change of mood. She sat up slowly, moving closer to you.

“Are you alright?” she spoke softly, her voice full of worry.

You shut your eyes, pressing your palm into your eye to ease the oncoming headache.

“You’re a serial killer. I’m an agent. This can’t happen, this shouldn’t have happened.”

Emily’s heart sunk at your words, not wanting to accept the truth. She sighed.

“You’re right.”

You swallow. “But I can’t find it in me to stop.”

Your breath hitches as you and Emily make eye contact, both of your hearts speeding up in sync. Your lips parted as you observed the reflection of a lamp in her big brown eyes, your hesitation overpowered by your feelings for her.

“What are you saying, (Y/N)?”

You found yourself lost in the domestic scene, her hair tousled and cheeks rosy. 

“No one can know about this.”

The thought of being a secret sent a thrill running through Emily’s body. 

“No, no one can know,” Emily whispered in agreement, her hand squeezing your knee.

“No one’s seen your face, so you’re not tied to your… crimes. But that doesn’t mean you won’t get caught eventually.”

Emily’s brows furrowed, knowing where this conversation was going. “Okay…”

“You have to stop. You can’t kill people anymore,” you watch for her reaction.

Emily nodded. “Okay.”

You lifted a brow in surprise.

“Really?”

Emily smirked. “What? You thought I wouldn’t agree so easily?”

You nodded, “Well, yeah.”

Emily took your hand, clasping it between hers. “I don’t like being told what to do, but I don’t like the thought of losing you more.”

You felt your cheeks heating up under her soft gaze, turning away with a smile. “For a ruthless killer, you’re pretty mushy-gushy.”

Emily laughed, the sound making your smile wider. “Oh, you have no idea how mushy-gushy I can be, especially when it comes to someone like you.”

You rolled your eyes while hers twinkled with mischief, the both of you leaning into the couch. Emily pulled you closer, grazing the shell of your ear with her teeth. 

“So, agent… Just how much of a secret do you want this to be? How much would you like to see of my mushy-gushy side?”

You moan quietly, turning to see Emily’s smirk. She lunged forward, sending you falling onto your back as she straddled on top of you. 

“Don’t tempt me now, agent… You wouldn’t be able to handle my true self.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, staring at her through your lashes with a wicked grin.

“Oh, you have no idea how much I can take.”

[charmingly-helpless]

the agent and the killer

A/N: oh man I am not good at coming up with titles. anyway i can't get unsub!emily off my mind so here's a small fic. just two parts for now while i decide if i want to write more :) enjoy!

pairing: unsub!emily prentiss x agent!reader

warnings: talks of murder, emily being scary, intimidation, i think that's all?

word count: 1121

Read on AO3

Part 1 Part 2

You hummed in your kitchen as you cleaned up after dinner, enjoying the silent night after a very long and tiring case. As you loaded the dishes into the dishwasher, some movement outside the window caught your eye. You brushed it off as a deer that frequently wandered through backyards in your neighborhood and continued with your chores. 

Behind the bushes, the brunette woman smiled when she saw you alone. It’ll be easier to get you. She started walking to the back door that separated the two of you. Reaching the handle, she picked the lock, smiling when the handle became loose. Now she can get her latest victim.

The door jiggling behind you raised the alarm bells in your head. You whipped around to see a dark haired woman in the doorway. You reached for your gun that was placed on the kitchen counter, aiming it at the woman. 

Emily made a tsk tsk noise at you, shaking her head.

“Now, now… Is that any way to greet someone in your home?”

You lowered your gun slightly as you recognized the intruder.

“Emily Prentiss.”

“Ah… You know who I am,” Emily said mockingly. She closed the door behind her and stepped closer to you.

You kept your face stoic. “What are you doing here?”

Emily chuckled before replying. “What am I doing here? Well, what I’m doing is hunting for my next victim. And I’ve got my eye on you.”

You freezed momentarily to process her words. 

“It’s you.”

Emily cocked her head, “Who am I?”

“You’re the serial killer we’ve been looking for. You target men in law enforcement who abuse their power. We’ve been following your trail for the past six months.” You paused. “Why am I your next victim? I don’t fit in your criteria.”

Emily continued backing you up into the wall, smirking once you had nowhere else to go. “You’re a profiler, you tell me.”

You swallowed thickly, never taking your eyes off of her dark brown ones. “Because I’m your replacement.”

Emily hummed with a quirk of her lips. “Good girl. You really are good at your job, just like Hotch said.”

You slowly moved your heel to hit the SOS button you had installed underneath the kitchen cabinets to alert the team. However, Emily’s keen sense of hearing caught the faint buzz the signal made. 

“What’s that sound? You’re signaling your fellow agents to come over and rescue you?” Emily shook her head. “Here I was hoping for a private time with you. Now they’re gonna come and ruin our fun…”

“Why are you killing all of those people?”

“You know why.”

“But why?”

“Those men needed to be taught a lesson.” Emily paused. She steps right in front of you, pushing your gun aside to make room for her body. “They always underestimate a female agent… They see me as weak. I’m tired of it.”

You shuddered as she invaded your space. “You aren’t the only female agent to be underestimated. Not the first, not the last. I became a Supervisory Special Agent at only 28, and I continue to be looked down by most of the men I work with. What makes you different? What made you snap?”

A dark chuckle escaped Emily’s lips when she thought about your question. She shook her head before looking back into your eyes, observing your face with an annoyed expression.

“You think you understand exactly the position I’m in? You know nothing about how they look at me… Judging me behind my back that I don’t know what I’m doing. Do you know why I lost my job?”

When you shook your head, she continued. 

“I killed the man who stabbed me and left me for dead. He made my life a living hell, always lingering over me wherever I went. I lived in fear for years, and when I had the chance to end it, I took it. And that cost me my job that I worked so hard for. And yet, when Hotch killed the person who murdered his wife, he got a paid absence from work. Don’t you see what’s wrong with that? People saw him as a person acting on his grief. And they see me as a killer.”

You noticed the pain and rage she held in her eyes as she told her story. “Not everyone looks at you that way.”

Emily scoffed at your attempt to make her feel better. “Oh… What? You think you’re different? That you don’t look down on me? You’re just like them, thinking you have control over me.”

Your gaze softened, your empathetic nature getting the best of you. You set your gun down on the counter, pushing it away. Emily’s eyes followed your movement and then snapped back to your face in surprise.

“What are you doing? Why didn’t you shoot me?” she asked, her voice calm but held a sense of disbelief.

You stayed silent, also wondering why you would potentially let a criminal get away. When Emily’s eyebrow lifts prompting you to answer, you sighed.

“I don’t think I hold control over you. I don’t want to have control over anyone.”

Emily’s eyes darkened at the double entendre. She took hold of your wrists and pinned them above your head as she leaned in closer.

“No control, huh?”

Your eyes flutter closed as her breath fanned your ear. Why am I feeling like this towards a serial killer we’ve been chasing for months, you wonder.

Emily noticed your breath quickening and smirked to herself. “What’s this, agent? Are you feeling something for me…?”

You let your head fall back against the wall, relishing in her small kisses on your neck, her teeth grazing your skin so softly. However, the reality of your situation pulled you out of your daze. 

“The team will get here soon.”

Emily pulled back with a groan of annoyance. “Well, this moment can’t last forever, can it?”

She let go of your wrists, stepping away from you and heading toward the door.

“Emily,” you called out, to your own surprise.

Emily stopped when she heard her name, turning around with an eyebrow raised. 

You racked through your brain, thinking of what to say.

“Stay safe.”

Emily’s eyes softened at your words, but her face remained expressionless, not wanting to reveal her weakness to you.

“How interesting… An agent telling a wanted criminal to stay safe.”

You hold back your words as Emily lingered by the door. She broke her stare to look out the window where she could hear sirens approaching, but still a good distance away.  

“I’ll see you next time, agent,” she said softly before slipping out into the darkness, like many nights before.

[charmingly-helpless]

let's go home

A/N: heyyy... it's been a while (two years) since i've written something. life just got busy, but i hope you're all doing well. anyway, i've been rewatching criminal minds and got inspired to write this. i hope you like it!

pairing: season 6 Emily Prentiss x fem!Y/N

warnings: angst, toxic relationship, control issues, trust issues, canon character death, grief, (but everything is okay in the end)

word count: 2517

Read on AO3

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

"Where have you been?"

You dropped your bag to the floor and shrugged off your jacket, hanging it up.

"Out. How was work?"

Emily ignored your question, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall, watching you with curious eyes.

"Out with who?"

"No one, Em. Am I not allowed to leave this apartment?" You sighed.

"You never just leave without telling me where you're going or who you're with, don't give me an attitude."

You roll your eyes, heading to the bedroom. Emily stopped you.

"You're not going to bed without telling me where you've been."

"Why does it matter? You've been at work. I just wanted to get some fresh air," you threw your hands up in slight frustration. "You leave every morning, and I don't question you. Why can't I do the same?"

"Because I don't trust you!" Emily raised her voice. She blocked off your path, glaring at you.

You narrowed your eyes, steeling your composure to not show that her words had hurt you.

"Why not? I'm your girlfriend."

"And that means I should trust you just because we are dating? You've given me plenty of reasons not to trust you."

"Like what?"

Emily placed her hands on her hips, standing up straighter. "You've been secretive, you're too friendly with other women, you're always on your phone, you hide things from me."

Rage bubbled inside your chest. "Do you think you're a saint, Emily? You are no different from me. How many times have I tried to ask you about your day, just for you to shut down? How many times have I been tossed aside while you prioritize your work? How many hours have I spent waiting for you to come home, worrying that you were shot dead when you'd really just fallen asleep at your desk?"

Emily flinched, surprised by seeing you so angry, and how true your words were.

"Y/N, that's different. i'm just... busy all the time, or have classified information..."

You felt tears sting in your eyes.

"I can't do this anymore," you whisper.

Emily froze in place at your words, watching you grab a duffle bag from the hallway closet.

"What?"

You swiftly moved to the bedroom, feeling Emily follow behind you. You started packing a few essentials, deciding that you would come back later for more things.

"You know what."

"You're leaving?"

"I don't think you're ready to be in a serious relationship, Em. I saw the signs from the start, but I overlooked them because I liked you. But I can't put up with all the secrets, the lying, and the distrust anymore. I'm your girlfriend; I trust you more than I trust anyone in the whole world, and it hurts that you don't feel the same about me."

You wiped your tears.

Emily took a step forward, feeling a surge of panic.

"Sweetheart, listen, it's not like that... I..." she faltered, unable to think of anything that would fix this situation.

You waited for Emily to continue, but her silence was enough of an answer. You zipped up your bag and walked over to Emily, giving her a soft kiss on her forehead.

"I love you, Em. But I can't stay here."

Emily's face briefly softened at your kiss, but her heart dropped as your departure started becoming very real.

"I-" Emily's voice cracked. "Can I talk to you? Please?"

You stopped by the door, considering your next words very carefully.

"I've given you so many chances to talk to me. If all it takes is for me to leave, then it's probably too late."

A wave of hurt crashed over Emily, even though she knew there was a truth to your words.

"I promise I'm ready to talk now."

You made the grave mistake to turn back, and one look at her sad brown eyes was convincing enough. Wordlessly, the two of you walked to the couch and sat down.

Emily took your hand, breathing a sigh of relief when you didn't pull away.

"I know I haven't been the best girlfriend over the past couple months, okay? I-I admit, I've been keeping some things from you, but you have to understand..."

"Understand what?" You voice was soft, but your tone harsh.

"Understand why I was keeping them from you, I just..." Emily sighed. "I was scared. Scared to tell you certain things."

You looked into her eyes. "Is something happening at work? Or is it something in our relationship?"

There was a moment of hesitation before Emily spoke.

"I-it's work-related, yes... and it's the reason I've been so... on edge."

"Does it have something to do with Ian Doyle?" You pieced together.

Emily froze, the name she never wanted you to know of coming out of your mouth.

"Where did you hear that?"

You sensed the anxiousness in her voice, and you knew you were treading on dangerous waters.

"I came home early one night, and I overheard you talking on the phone to someone. You sounded stressed out, I figured it had something to do with work."

Emily nodded slowly.

"I... H-how much of that did you hear?"

You shook your head, "Not much. Just a few names and details. 'Interpol', 'undercover', 'Lauren Reynolds.'"

Just hearing those words alone made Emily anxious.

"I need you to keep what you heard a secret, okay? Don't tell anyone, not even the team. Can you promise me that?"

"Yes, of course."

A wave of silence washed over the two of you. Emily fiddled with her fingers, but never took her eyes off yours.

"Emily, I don't have to worry about losing you, do I?"

Emily managed a small smile, holding your gaze for the longest time.

"No, you don't have to worry about that. I'm not going to let anything keep me away from you, Y/N. I promise."

It was like the storm clouds had finally parted, revealing a glimpse of blue skies above. For the first time in your year-long relationship, Emily had finally opened up to you about something.

You slowly moved in for a hug, giving Emily the chance to opt out if she wanted to. But she leaned into your embrace, hugging you with such intensity, as if you'd vanish if she let go of you. Emily had never been so scared to lose someone before, and she knew that she could never risk losing you ever again.

You were the first to break the silence.

"This can't happen again, Em. I need you to be honest and trust me. I value your feelings, and I don't want to lose you."

Emily nodded as you voiced her thoughts exactly.

"I know. I promise... There's, uh... one other thing I need to tell you about."

"What is it?" You pull away to look at her.

"I need to go somewhere tomorrow to deal with an issue from my Interpol days. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone..."

Emily stood up, walking over to the window and knelt down. She flipped up a floorboard, taking out a padded envelope.

"If I'm not back within a week, I want you to open this."

You took the envelope.

"What are you planning to do, Em?" your voice shook.

"It's just a precaution," Emily lied in order to not worry you. "There's a risk that comes with every mission I go on. I just want you to keep this for the future."

When you didn't reply, Emily took your hands into hers.

"I'm going to be fine."

You nodded, touching your forehead to Emily's.

"Will you stay? Come to bed with me?"

Emily's soft and vulnerable words sent an ache to your heart.

"Yeah."

The two of you settled into bed. You laid on your side, face to face with Emily. She leaned in to plant a kiss on your forehead, wrapping her arms protectively around you.

"I love you, Y/N.”

"I love you, too."

Long after you dozed off, Emily remained awake. She wanted to remember how your body molded perfectly against hers, the smell of your shampoo and how your hair tickled her nose, and how her heart beat differently when she was around you. She worried about how you would hold up if something happened to her. She tried to stay as still as possible to not disturb your sleep. After what felt like hours, she let sleep overcome her as well.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The next day, you woke up to an empty bed. Emily had already left as she usually did, but this time it came with a heavy, lingering feeling. Of what, you weren't sure yet.

You sat up in bed and glanced at the alarm clock on Emily's bedside table, which told you that it was almost 12pm. You felt something on your forehead and you reached up to find it was a bright pink sticky note. You laughed, remembering how Emily used to leave notes stuck on your forehead if she woke up and left before you.

“Be home soon. I love you,” the note read in Emily’s cursive handwriting. You stuck it to the wall above your nightstand.

You had the day off from work, so you started your day of relaxation. A few hours later, a knock on the door jolted you out of your focus on a TV show you were binging. Your limbs protested as you stood up from the position you’ve been sitting in all day.

A familiar face stood behind the door.

“Andersen?”

Agent Andersen had a solemn expression on his face.

“Y/N, I regret to inform you that Agent Prentiss has been injured in the field. I’ve been sent by Agent Hotchner to bring you to the hospital.”

The world went silent as his words sunk in. This wasn’t the first time during your relationship that Emily had gotten injured, but it wasn’t the kind of thing that got easier every time.

The journey to the hospital was a blur. Before you knew it, you were in the waiting room. A heavy silence occupied the room as you and the team waited for an update.

Finally, the doors opened and you stood up, almost falling over until Rossi took your arm. With one look at JJ’s face, you knew your worst fears had come true.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

It’s been seven months since Emily died. Seven months since you attended her funeral. Seven months since you quit your job, packed your bags, and left town without telling anyone.

You’ve been living in a permanent state of anxiety and grief ever since Emily’s passing. You could barely register anything happening around you, not with the words “she never made it off the table” echoing in your mind constantly. You currently resided in New York with your friend, who was in their first year of residency and basically lived at the hospital, so you had the apartment to yourself a majority of the time.

You became vaguely aware of your phone ringing as you pulled yourself out of your daze. You were surprised and confused when the caller ID read Hotch’s name. The first month after your very sudden departure, your phone was bombarded with calls from each member of the BAU. As time passed and their calls kept going unanswered, they ceased their contact. Occasionally, you would get a few voicemails from Penelope who would update you on things happening in her life and to tell you that she missed you.

“Hi.”

“Y/N,” Hotch’s voice lifted in surprise. “I wasn’t sure if you would answer.”

You sighed.

“Well, here I am.”

“I’m…” Hotch trailed off for a second. “I’m calling because I need you to come back to Quantico.”

“Not interested.”

“I wouldn’t be asking if this wasn’t important, Y/N,” Hotch spoke quickly before you could hang up.

You thought about it for a moment.

“I’ve already sent the jet your way. JJ will meet you at the airport.”

You chuckle.

“I haven’t agreed yet.”

“I think you’ll want to be back here. Just trust me.”

The thought of reuniting with JJ and the rest of the team was tempting. You hadn’t realized how much you missed them all these months.

“Okay.”

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

JJ met up with you at the airport runway, pulling you into a tight embrace that you reciprocated. The two of you caught up with each other as the jet got ready for takeoff.

JJ sat up straight, her face becoming serious but still warm.

“Y/N, there’s something I need to tell you before we land.”

You held her gaze, sensing a hint of anxiety in her voice.

“What is it?”

Just like seven months ago in that waiting room, the world stopped spinning when you heard JJ’s words. You sat like a statue as she recounted the events, from Emily’s transfer to Paris to the team taking down Doyle at last.

When you were unresponsive for too long, JJ gently touched your hand.

“Emily is alive?” you ask for confirmation, not believing what you heard.

“Yes.”

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Your steps from the runway into the office were quick and frantic, even JJ had to try to keep up with you. Through the glass doors of the office, you made eye contact with Hotch.

“Emily’s alive? Where is she? Is she here?”

Hotch didn’t answer your rapid-fire questions, but he swiftly led you into his office. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you could hear each pump of blood.

The figure in the room turned around and you gasped when your eyes met brown ones that you thought you would never see again. The Emily that stood before you had small changes in her appearance, but she was still your beloved Emily.

Emily approached you slowly, as one might approach a scared puppy.

“Y/N.”

You let out a sob, diving forward and pulling Emily into your embrace. She held you, tenderly stroking your hair as you cried into her neck. Tears sprang into Emily’s eyes as she felt her heart begin to mend having you in her arms.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…” Emily repeated softly. “I had to keep us safe until Doyle was captured. I’m so sorry I had to leave you, and that I had to lie to you.”

You shook your head, pulling away slightly to see her face.

“You had no choice, I understand. I’m just glad you’re here. I thought I lost you for good.”

“You’ll never lose me again,” Emily wiped a tear from your cheek. “These past seven months have been hell without you. All I could think about was how rocky our relationship had been in the months before I left. I promise you that I won’t let us go back to that. It’s not going to be easy, and I have a lot of issues to work through, but I’m going to put in the work. I trust you wholeheartedly, Y/N.”

You smile at her words, feeling that things will be different this time around.

“That means a lot to me, Em.”

Emily tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, cradling your chin in her hand.

“Let’s go home, okay?”

“Let’s go home.”

[charmingly-helpless]

Secret Affections

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader

Summary: After being in a secretive relationship, Natasha is finally ready to make it public.

Words: 1.2k

You had known Natasha since her early days in SHIELD. She had been assigned on the same mission as you, probably so that she could get a better understanding on the way things happened in SHIELD before she did a real mission.

It was clear, even from the beginning, that Natasha was operating way below her abilities. That, however, didn’t stop her from assisting in the mission.

As the rest of the Level 1 field agents scoured a forest deep in Croatia for lost artifacts, Natasha, with her Level 6 clearance, was right beside them, stepping through the brush. She never shied away from any work or pushed it onto someone else. She took every task with pride and carried it out professionally, efficiently, and with no complaints.

Her work ethic, aside from her beauty, was the first thing that had caught your attention. It drew you to her.

You tried to spend as much time around her possible. At lunch, you would find her sitting somewhere far away from others and joined her to eat in silence. You had convinced yourself that she was annoyed by your presence, but the longer it went on, the more comfortable you became. The more ease you had.

If she didn’t want you to sit with her, she would’ve gotten up and left or found a more secretive place to eat. She wouldn’t have sat in the same place every day.

You appreciated her presence and her silent companionship. You enjoyed the time that you spent with her and even looked forward to lunch every day, just so that you could sit with her.

A few weeks passed before Natasha started talking to you.

At first, she was quiet. She didn’t say much, only commenting on the work they were doing that day or asking you about your life. Then, as time went on, she became more social. She talked about everything, from politics to a show you had watched recently. She was easy to talk to. She carried the conversation and filled the silence when you didn’t know what to say.

She made it easy for you to fall for her. She was bright and lovely and kind and the most amazing woman you knew.

Soon enough, you and Natasha became more than friends.

She began to place her hand on your arm, the touch gentle and light. She gave you warm, private smiles throughout the work day. Her eyes were full of passion and desire when she caught your eyes. Her words turned from friendly to suggestive. Her sweet affections caused your heart to ignite into a blaze.

Slowly, her touches became more frequent and her words became heavier with innuendos. You wanted to drown in her attention. You wanted to take everything she gave you. You never wanted her to stop.

Even though you wanted to give in to her, you did your best to stay professional, and Natasha kept her distance. She respected your boundaries and limits.

It wasn’t appropriate to be in a relationship with your coworker, especially with how much Natasha outranked you. It wasn’t fair or professional. You were sure you’d get fired if your superiors knew about the relationship you already had, and no woman, even one as wonderful as Natasha, would be worth losing your job.

Yet, despite your stance, when the mission ended, you couldn’t stop yourself from falling into Natasha’s arms.

She was there and willing and had gone through the trouble of finding you at the SHIELD headquarters. She offered you her time and her mind. She was the best friend you’d ever had and an even better lover.

When you first got together, you didn’t think the relationship would last long, based off of the rank differences and the secret nature of it, but neither of you had ended it. It was a pocket of beauty and warmth that the both of you could turn to after a difficult mission or long day. She was always there for you, and you were always there for her.

She assisted you in climbing the ranks of SHIELD. However, even with all the extra training and recommendations Natasha gave, you were only ever able to get to Level 3. It was for the best, anyway. You weren’t skilled enough to take on more than you were already doing. You weren’t exactly a fan of nepotism, either.

You stayed with Natasha as she became an Avenger and you cried together when the truth of SHIELD was revealed. She supported your transition into a more peaceful, domestic life, away from the chaos of SHIELD.

Whenever she wasn’t working with the Avengers, she was at home with you, living a life of domestic bliss. You taught her how to cook and she helped you clean your home. You would stay up until the small hours of the morning, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. It was the live you had always dreamed of.

Your relationship continued for years, all without stepping out of the secretive nature that shrouded it.

That was until one night, when Natasha knocked on the door of your apartment. You welcomed her in with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. She went straight to the living room and sat on the couch, staring blankly at the dark television screen.

You didn’t mention her distant behavior, even though you could see that something was occupying her mind. You merely plated and served the pizza that had arrived ten minutes before Natasha. You nestled onto the couch and Natasha put her arm around you, though she didn’t say anything. She merely put on a movie and ate the pizza.

You gave her the quiet she needed and eventually, she spoke.

“I want to marry you.”

You blinked and pulled away to look at her face. Her expression was schooled into impartiality, but you could see the nervousness that tugged at the corner of her lips. “What?”

Natasha took in a deep breath and said, “I want to introduce you to the Avengers, and there’s no reason why I can’t introduce you as my fiancé. We’ve been together for seven years. Your home is the only one I have and you’re the person I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“You want to marry me.”

Natasha nodded and reached into her pocket to pull out the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. It was everything you wanted, down to every minor detail. You couldn’t have asked for anything better.

She motioned to the ring, a smile slowly growing onto her lips. “I know you don’t like large spectacles. So I was hoping this would be enough to convince you.”

You looked at her, your own grin spreading across your face. A warmth bloomed in your chest. “You don’t have to convince me, Nat.”

Her smile widened, the nervousness falling away from her expression. “So it’s a yes?”

“Yes,” you said, and pulled Natasha into a hug. You held her there, breathing in her scent, melting in her warm embrace. She held you back, squeezing you as if you would disappear if she let go.

Who would you ever say no when you could have the most amazing woman alive as your wife?

[charmingly-helpless]

Five and One - Touch

Summary: The first five times Natasha touches you, and the one time you finally know what it means

Warnings: My first fic! Injury, brief mention of violence, idk

Notes: Female reader with empath-type powers. Fluff, minor angst.

3.6K

[Hiya, if you want to, please let me know what you think. Don't be too honest or I will a crya ahaa

At this stage my writing is heavily influenced by others, but I'm hoping to use this account to develop my own voice/style. Thanks! ]

One. 

The first time Natasha touches you it’s so brief and soft you wonder if it even happened at all.

It was your first mission with the avengers. You were nervous to be a part of the big boys and could feel the pressure, the weight of the responsibility to keep everyone safe. 

You’d done smaller missions with SHIELD agents, bits of recon and simple recovery ops. You’re an empath, able to sense things around you. That sense gave you an understanding of people, their emotions and what actions they were likely to take. You could stop fights before they started by saying the right words, or sense danger coming before it arrived. You could read people from a mile away, and it was even more powerful up close. The one person you could never get a grip on was Natasha. 

You blame it on your attraction to her. Sometimes your emotions get mixed up along with your readings. It puts a blinder on your senses and blurs your interpretation. 

The mission had a few rough patches, keeping tabs on 6 people was like trying to split your brain into 6 pieces and hold them all together at the same time. One minute you were coaching Steve through a maze of the enemy, pointing out routes that were empty and letting him know when someone was preparing to shoot - you can feel the tension, their finger on the trigger and that impulse to shoot. When suddenly you got a burst of shock coming from the area where Natasha was. A missile launcher, 200m away was pointed straight at her. 

Closing your eyes, you quickly located the operator using your senses and then got him in view with your sniper scope, you shot him and then the operator machinery to render the launcher useless. You saw Natasha relax when the lights turned off and the launcher pointed away from her, the tip sinking towards the ground.

Your legs are weak and shaking when you step back into the quinjet. Out of everyone you look the cleanest, you don’t have a speck of dirt on you and yet you feel like you’ve been through hell. You sit down with a sigh of relief, but can see that your hands are shaking uncontrollably. You try to calm down and grip onto the material of your pants. When you look up, you see Natasha watching you, everyone else is caught up in their own world. You keep eye contact with her, both of you in a silent conversation that doesn’t communicate anything to you. Anyone else and you’d already know what she was thinking or feeling, it’s like a scent in the air you have no choice but to smell. With Natasha, all you can feel is yearning, the source all from you. 

Natasha’s expression gives you no clues. You’re proud of yourself that you were able to save her in time. But there’s a heavy guilt in your chest for even letting her get into that situation, you start to worry that she’s annoyed by your incompetence. Maybe she wants you off the team, you think, you did almost let her get killed. You might be packing your bags tonight, and it feels like shit that you let the team down that you’ve been dreaming of protecting for years. 

But Natasha walks towards where you were sitting, she reaches out and brushes your shoulder as she passes towards the cockpit. You look up at her surprised and catch a glimpse of a pink lips in a soft smile. You try to get a feel for what she was thinking, but all you feel is the red hot bubbly mess in your stomach at the thought that she might not completely hate you right now. 

Two!

Your back hits the ground with a heavy thud on the gym mats. Natasha makes her way into your vision when she leans over your body on the floor. Loose hairs from her bun fall around her face, and suddenly that’s all you can focus on.

“You need to fight harder. If you let people push you around like this in the field you’re going to die.” She says, offering you a hand. 

“Geez, Natasha….” You wheeze as she pulls you off the ground with more strength than you were expecting. 

“I’m serious, you can’t let your powers become a crutch. Come on, let’s try another throw.” 

She wraps an arm around your shoulders and then up to your neck imitating a choke from behind. You try to focus on the steps, but you can feel every inch of her that’s pressed up against your back. It’s turning your limbs into jelly and you feel light-headed. 

“Remember the steps?” She says, her lips right next to your ear.  

You don’t answer, you can’t remember how to.

“First, block my arms” She instructs, and you reach up to wrap your hands around her forearms, blocking her choke around your throat.

 “Good, and squat down so you can lift my hips safely…. Good.” She says. You’re following her instructions, but you feel unstable holding her weight. 

“Now bend slightly and throw me over your shoulder onto the mat.” 

You bend over to try to throw her off your back but it’s slow and she hits the mat softly, her reflexes easily taking over. 

“Not quite, it needs to be a lot faster, and stronger.” She says. You can feel your ears flush red, as she wraps a hand around your bicep. “I know you have more strength than that. Here, try it again.”

She moves back behind you, and grips your hips with both hands, manoeuvring you directly in front of her. She pulls you back into her, and you completely freeze at the sensation of her hips pressing into your ass. 

She pauses there, her hands warm on your hips, sending fiery pulses to your core. You wait for her instruction, and it feels like a century passes as she holds you in that position. 

“Ok, now squat down so you can lift my weight onto your hips, and then throw me over your shoulder onto the mat.” She says and you think you can sense a smirk in the voice. 

Three.

You hiss as you peel your wet undershirt up and over your head. It was soaked with sweat and blood from a large slice across your ribs. As you twist out of your shirt, the bend of your torso is unbearable, it sends you stumbling along the bathroom tiles and bumping into the sink. In the mirror you can see the cut on your side and you reach up with light finger tips to inspect it. You grab some gauze, medical supplies and start trying to clean the blood around the wound. Your hands are shaking though and you’re not pressing hard enough to clean it properly. You look at the door and consider going to get help when you hear a soft knock on the wood. 

“Y/N?” Natasha’s soft voice is muffled slightly through the wall. 

“I’m fine!” You reply, and damn it, you do not sound it at all. 

Natasha pauses outside the door, and you can sense her hesitation. “Can I come in?”

You don’t answer straight away. “Um… I don’t have a shirt on.” You say slowly. 

“Can you put one on?” she asks, and now you know she knows about your injury.

“Um not exactly.”

“Ok, I’m coming in.”

She pushes the door open slowly, and you can hardly bear to look at her face when she takes in your current state. The light blush that covers her cheeks makes you realise that you’re completely naked from the waist up. You awkwardly try to cover your breasts, and now you’re embarrassed for a million other reasons. Natasha keeps her eyes firmly locked on yours when she asks to help you clean up. You don’t realise that you’re nodding your consent to her, until she softly adjusts you to face at an angle away from her. She takes the antiseptic wipes from your hands and bends down slightly to wipe the cut. 

It stings like hell but you watch her gentle hands and focus on the way her fingertips press into your ribs beneath the cut, keeping you in place. You watch her through the mirror, you can’t look away from her face when she wraps the gauze around your torso, constantly blowing away strands of red hair that fall back into her eyes. 

She looks up at you intervally, checking for pain and for the first time you aren’t too intimidated to keep eye contact with her. She’s looking at you and touching you so gently that you could melt. It feels like she’s bearing a part of herself to you behind her eyes, even still, you can’t read her and you’re clueless as to what she’s thinking. 

“Okay, all finished.” She hums. 

“Thank you.” You croak out, voice cracking and you clear your throat. 

She smiles at you, bright and amused, and you feel your hold body flush in response. She reaches up, and runs her fingertips lightly down your spine and you hold back a strong shiver at the touch. 

Before you can comprehend what’s happening, Natasha has turned and is closing the door behind her as she leaves. You’re still standing there in daze minutes later.

Four

There’s tension in the air when the quintet lands. To say the mission was a mess would be an understatement. You’d blown out your powers, which is really just to say you were exhausted. Protocol would have been to return to safety immediately, but you knew if you left you’d leave the team down a member. You managed to help where you could but everyone left feeling like they’d barely scraped by. Losing your powers had put everyone in an uncomfortable position. 

When you walked out alongside Clint and Tony, you came face to face with an extremely angry looking Natasha, who’d been running lead with communications from the base. She stalks straight towards you and you feel a sudden urge to retreat, if it wasn’t so ridiculous you’d run away in front of everyone to avoid her wrath. The three of your pause when she steps in front of you, but her piercing gaze does not leave your eyes. 

Her pace slows as she steps in closer until your faces are centimetres apart and she suddenly shoves you back harshly with a slap to your chest. You stumble backwards, shocked.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” she snarls, and you’ve never seen her angry. In fact beside some light banter and brief smiles, you don’t think you’ve seen her show any emotion at all. 

“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to let you down.”

“Let ME down?! Everyone is relying on you, on your powers. How could you blow them so carelessly! You need to learn how to be a part of a team, and realise that you are not the only one out there.”

Clint interrupts her, “Natasha. She did it to save my life.”

“I know that! But you risk everyone's life when you pull shit like that Y/N. Including your own.” Natasha says. And for the first time you think you get a glimpse of real emotion from her. You’re too tired to read anyone at the moment, and Natasha’s walls have always been sky high, but you recognise fear in her eyes as she stares back at you. Could she be scared?

Five

You smoothed your hands down the sides of your dress. You’d chosen a simple black dress that split just under the hip, showing a teasing peak of leg. The event was bigger than you expected. New York City was putting on an award show for local heroes. Mailmen, lawyers who’d contributed to notable charitable cases, teachers and others who had been nominated by people who they had positively impacted. Natasha was one of them. Her nomination had come from you, alongside about 500 signatures that you had collected from people around the world she had helped directly. Most were a result of her work with the Avengers, but others were people she helped on her own. People that Natasha silently gave herself to without any notion of a reward or thanks. You think the motivation might come from guilt she carries from her past, but you mainly suspect that it's just who she is. That regardless of her past, she would still be helping the homeless, abused or abandoned children and other victims. 

So you’d put in a nomination describing just how heroic Natasha is, both in your eyes and the eyes of so many others. You’d heard the news she was being honoured months later, about 2 weeks ago. You’ve become so much closer since the nomination. Never did you think you would be privileged enough to learn so much about this woman. You’re proud to be the one she comes to when she’s sad, you know her favourite movie and the songs she hates because they remind her of bad memories. 

You still worry that you’ve overstepped with the nomination. You want her to see how much people love her, how no one blames her for the mistakes of her past even though she still blames herself. 

She doesn’t know you were responsible for the nomination and you haven’t heard her tell anyone about it. You arrive alone and right on time, you spend the first 30 minutes wading through heroic new yorkers until you see her arrive late, head down but beautiful in a simple red dress. 

She looks shy, and is eyeing the exit like she wants to walk right back out. You realise standing there that you’ve never seen her outside of the compounds besides for missions and the occasional team trip. You wonder if she feels normal walking down the street, your heart sinks at the thought that she feels like she doesn’t belong, doesn’t deserve to be treated as a hero.

When they call her name, yours follows as the nominee. You’re watching from the side of the large auditorium as she walks onto the stage with more grace than is fair for any one person to possess. You don’t look away for a second as her eyes scan the room. She’s interrupted in her search though when the presenter reaches for her hand to shake. She looks at him for a brief moment before her eyes are back to search the crowd. Your heart hums like a hummingbird trapped in your chest, you’ve never felt anxious excitement like this, she looks so happy. 

She turns to face the audience as the presenter puts the medallion around her neck, and right as it falls into place on her chest, her eyes catch yours. You can’t contain the nervous giggle you let out as she recognises you. She tries to stop herself from smiling, but it’s barely contained in the smirk that spreads across her face and her eyes are shining like the brightest stars you’ve ever seen. 

You barely force yourself to wait for the other awards to be presented, the heartwarming event feels like torture because you need to see Natasha. Once it’s over and a musical act takes the stage in celebration you head towards the backstage area that Natasha had walked off. You notice an exit sign down an empty corridor and your intuition leads you that way. The door opens onto the streets of New York, it feels quieter than usual, private. Natasha is standing on the footpath facing the road and looking up at the highrise across the road her head tilted towards the city. You approach her slowly, and she must have heard you come out because she slowly turns to face you at the same time. Her eyes are glistening with tears and the sight puts a thick lump in your throat. 

“You did this?” She says quietly and sniffles softly. 

“You did it.” You say determinately. “But, yes, the nomination came from me.” You pause and frantically try to read her, but yet again, you get nothing. “I hope that’s ok.”

“Of course it's ok, Y/N. I just… I don't know what to… I don’t know.”

“You don’t need to say anything.” You assure her. 

“I guess I’m just confused, why would you do this?” Her voice falters at the end. She’s still speaking softly, and you step closer to hear her better as she turns to face the road. New York air is stealing her words from her lips before they can reach you. 

“Why? Natasha, you’re a hero. People appreciate what you do, I wanted to give them a chance to thank you. You deserve it.”

“I don’t deserve it though. Do I?.” She says bitterly, and she looks heartbroken. You curse the world for making this woman feel like this. The street starts to get busy, and Natasha’s gaze gets lost in the street lights and cars that won’t stop honking at each other.

“You do. Tasha, you do.” You say passionately, trying to get her to hear you. “That medallion is proof, but even more so are the hundreds of people who wanted you to have it.”

You’re about to continue with your speech that you’re embarrassed to stay, you had mentally prepared, when Natasha suddenly is wrapping her arms around you. The medallion is freezing cold when it presses between Natasha’s chest and yours. You don’t know why it's awkward, but you feel slightly wrong pressing your palms into the backs of her shoulders to hold her steady against you. You try to focus on comforting her, and not the hummingbird in your chest that is making itself known again, flapping its wings with a force so strong it leaves you breathless.

Her face presses into your neck, and you feel warm tears glide along your skin. It only makes you sink into her and press her towards you tighter. The selfish feeling in your stomach becomes heavier because you wouldn’t trade this for anything.

One

“You don’t like me, do you?”

“What? Natasha, of course I like you. You’re like the most incredible person I’ve ever met.” You reply, confusion rippling across your mind.

“That’s not what I mean, Y/N.” She says sharply.

“What do you mean?”

“You already know, don’t you? That’s like your thing.” 

“I…”

“I didn’t expect you to feel the same, but I thought you might at least acknowledge it.” She says, impatient now.

“Acknowledge what?”

“Huh. Nevermind.” She brushes you off.

“No, Natasha. Acknowledge what?”

“Can’t you just read it?” She looks at you pleadingly, her hands gesture to the space between the two of you. Her eyes search yours for recognition of something, but you have no idea what.

“No, I can’t. I can’t read you, I’ve never been able to.” You say simply.

“What?”

“My readings, you know I can’t control them, it’s like sound or smell in that way. But it’s also different. I perceive all emotions together, mine and everyone else’s. Sometimes I can’t distinguish between them and others.”

“You really haven’t been able to read me?”

“No. It’s all been old school… body language and what you actually say out loud”

“Oh.” She seems less angry now, softer when she looks at your confused expression.

You start to see the cogs turning in her head and you’re terrified that she’s figured it out. Why you can’t read her, why you get so nervous around her, why she’s always catching you glancing at her when no-one else is watching.

She reaches for your hand, and her fingers lightly intertwine with yours. You watch as she runs her thumb softly along the side of your hand. 

“Everything is starting to make some sense” She chuckles lightly, and you start to buzz with nervousness. She’s holding your hand, which is a good sign, right?

“Natasha, I…”

“I thought you never said anything, the reason you let me touch you but never returned it was your way of giving me a quiet rejection.” 

You’re shocked into silence. 

“Why can’t you read me Y/N?” She asks quietly, her stance towards you is shy but she doesn’t let go of your hand.

“I… When my emotions are strong, they overpower anything I might be able to read. It makes everything all muddled and confusing.”

“Okay… And?”

“My feelings for you, they were too much. It's just gotten stronger and stronger. And I promise I tried to stop, I tried so hard to be professional and courteous. I swear. I… I just kept falling.” You sigh. “I keep falling.”

You don’t know where all the emotion is coming from, but you’re getting choked up. A humiliating tear rolls down your cheek. But then, Natasha is reaching up to wipe at it with her thumb, her hand cups your cheek and forces you to look up at her. 

“I’m falling for you too.” She laughs softly, and runs her thumb along the curve of your jaw, down to press her palm flat to the side of your neck. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” She whispers. 

In every touch, from her gentle caresses to angry, accusatory shove, Natasha whispers desperately, ‘I love you’.

You lean into her hand and then further towards her mouth. She’s already meeting you halfway when your lips press softly into hers.

{{Thanks for reading!!}}

[charmingly-helpless]

Kissing has healing properties so I think Supercorp should kiss.

[charmingly-helpless]

Sometimes I see random clothes ads and think 'my blorbo would look good in that'

[charmingly-helpless]

Y/N: Change is inedible.

Natasha: Don't you mean inevitable?

Y/N, spitting out coins: No, I did not.

*Natasha hits the back of Y/N’s head, whilst the team laughs*

[charmingly-helpless]

sticky notes

Summary: When communication is rocky between the two, Natasha has to figure out other ways to show her love and appreciation for Stefaniya.

Warnings: some angst and pain, but eventual fluff

MMAOS Masterlist MMAOS Blurbs

༻✧༺

Stefaniya hadn't planned at all on leaving her room today, much less socializing with the one person she'd been avoiding, but she's tired of listening to her own thoughts.

The sounds of crying caught her attention. There was only one explanation as to who it was coming from, as the building was mostly abandoned and Stefaniya was fresh out of tears. She begrudgingly pulled herself out of the warm bed. Her footsteps were quiet as she walked out of her room, her thin socks providing somewhat of a barrier from the cold floor. The journey only took a few seconds, maybe less, as Natasha's room was just across the hall from hers. Stefaniya wondered why Natasha wasn't at her desk monitoring the computer as she normally does at this hour.

She lightly pressed her ear to the wooden door, hearing Natasha behind it. A particularly loud sob sent her heart dropping to her feet. She had never heard Natasha cry in her room like this before— the redhead was always the one keeping herself together— and her body filled with guilt.

It was no secret that Stefaniya had been avoiding Natasha for the last 5 months after Thanos snapped. Not that she wanted to, of course, but she felt like she had no better choice. The pain she felt from her entire world crumbling down was like no other. She had felt the pain of being torn away from her family at a young age. She had felt the pain of being in Red Room, of what Dreykov did to her. She had felt the pain of remembering everything she'd done while under the mind-control. But nothing could compare to the pain she felt, learning that the Avengers lost, realizing that she had failed Yelena. She had never quite understood what it was like, having the weight of the entire world on her shoulders, but now she did. And she failed everyone.

She knew that it wasn't all on her; the fight took a team effort, and everyone lost someone that day. But she also knew that it wasn't her place to unleash her burden on Natasha, not when the redheaded Avenger was dealing with her own. It hurt a lot to ignore the one person she desperately wanted to lean onto, but it seemed like the best decision at the time.

Stefaniya sighed softly, walking to the large kitchen downstairs. She checked the pantry and fridge, which was surprisingly full. She mindlessly picked up a few ingredients, either putting them back or cradling it in her elbow to use.

As she laid out the ingredients on the countertop, she realizes what she's trying to make. Borscht, a red beet soup. As she starts to make it, a childhood memory resurfaced in her brain.

[flashback]

"Aw, shit," Alyona, her big sister, exclaimed.

"Aly! Watch your language around your sister, please."

"Sorry, Mama."

Alyona scooped up the plastic discs into a pile and switched her attention to the TV, which displayed the week's weather forecast.

"When is dad coming back?"

The girls' mom sighed sadly. "I'm not sure."

Stefaniya turned away from the Connect-Four board to look at her mom, who stood over the sink with some vegetables and a peeler.

"Dad's always gone for so long. I want him to stay here more," Stefaniya spoke softly to herself, but she was overheard by the other two members in the house.

"I know, I do, too. But he's doing very important work. I'm sure he'll be home soon, my darlings."

Even from a young age, Stefaniya had been aware that her parents had been covering up about Dad's job. They'd always redirected the conversation, so she and Alyona never knew exactly what it is he did— Stefaniya just knew that whatever it was, he was always gone for weeks at a time and came back looking more exhausted than the last trip. She only grew more worried and just wanted her dad back.

She pulled away from her thoughts and walked into the kitchen to join her mom.

"What are you making, Mama?" the five-year-old tugged lightly on the hem of her mom's shirt.

"Borscht. Red beet soup. It's a family recipe," Mama's gentle voice answered. She washed her hands and dried them on a towel, picking up the young girl and setting her on the counter. "Perhaps one day when you are older, I will teach you how to make it like my mother taught me."

"Why don't you teach Alyona? She's older than me," Stefaniya suggested.

"She has no interest in cooking, she likes to draw and paint. But maybe you would like to be my little chef, my sunshine?"

Stefaniya nods excitedly. "Can you teach me now?"

"Well, you're still young, you will forget," Mama continued chopping up the beets, a bright pink-red stain coating her fingers. "But I suppose I can."

Stefaniya smiles, her nose crinkling. Mama giggles at her youngest daughter. "So first, you want to peel the skin off the beets, then chop them up into tiny pieces like this..."

[end flashback]

Stefaniya isn't sure how she remembers the recipe so well after all these years. She blinks a few times, realizing that her mind was working on autopilot and she was already done with the soup. She softly smiles for the first time in months, wondering if somehow, her mom was there to guide her through the process.

After cleaning up the kitchen, she pours the red soup into two bowls, one with more soup than the other. She put the leftovers into a container into the fridge for later. She then dug out a tray from a cabinet to bring the food upstairs. She laid two spoons, two napkins, and one glass of water onto the tray and began her walk back to her room.

She put the scarcely-filled bowl, a napkin, and a spoon onto her desk. After rearranging the remaining contents on the tray, she walked over to Natasha's door. The crying had stopped, but she heard the sound of the TV on, letting her know that Natasha was still in there. She carefully set the tray on the ground, knocked twice on the door, then quickly disappeared into her room.

Outside of Stefaniya's now closed door, Natasha stuck her head out into the hallway with a confused expression. She looked to the ground, where a neat tray sat. She smiled, recognizing the Russian dish, and carried it inside.

She taste-tested a spoonful, her stomach finally at rest after the hours she had spent starving. She'd really missed her family today and her emotions got the best of her. She wondered if Stefaniya had heard her, even though she was trying really hard not to be too loud.

She pulled out a pad of blue sticky notes and a pen out of her desk. She scribbled a quick message of appreciation on it, folded it into an origami heart— like Lila had taught her— and then used her finger to flick it through the bottom of her door.

A small streak of blue entered Stefaniya's periphery, causing her to set down her bowl and walk up to the door. She picked up the piece of paper, smirking at the heart shape, and carefully unfolded it. As she read the short message, the smallest sense of happiness entered her heart, but also sadness and guilt.

tu comptes tant pour moi

[you mean so much to me]

-

A/N: hopefully my two years of french class paid off lmao

[charmingly-helpless]

birthday

Summary: It's Natasha's birthday, and Stefainya and LK have a few surprises in store.

Warnings: none

MMAOS Masterlist MMAOS Blurbs

༻✧༺

On the morning of December 3rd, Stefaniya gently taps her daughter's button nose, chuckling to herself at the little groan.

"Too early," Lena Kotova-Romanoff mumbles.

"You wanted me to wake you up early so that we can surprise Mama, remember?"

At the mention, the five-year-old's previously tired expression turns into an excited one as she sat up, brushing strands of reddish-brown hair out of her eyes.

"Yes!"

Stefaniya smiles, pressing her index finger to her lips. "Quiet, little one."

Lena purses her lips, nodding. She begins to scramble out of bed, but fails, as her limbs had managed to tangle with the blanket during her sleep. She extends her arms towards her mommy, opening and closing her fists in a grabbing motion. Stefaniya picks up her daughter, pulling her out of the bed.

The duo made their way to the large kitchen of their home, Stefaniya sitting Lena on the cold marble countertop.

"Alright, what should we make?"

"Blueberry waffles!"

Stefaniya grins. "Excellent choice."

She began taking out the required ingredients, the recipe permanently etched into her brain from the numerous times she had made it.

"Want to cut some strawberries while I make the waffles?" Stefaniya asks as she brings out a bowl of strawberries.

"Yes, yes, yes," Lena accepts the dull butter knife from her mom and began carefully cutting the strawberries into halves. Stefaniya quickly made the batter and cooked it in the waffle iron, realizing that Natasha would soon wake up to an empty bed and catch onto what they were up to.

"Done, mommy," Lena announces, punctuated by the thump of a strawberry half falling onto the plate. Stefaniya sets a cup and a bottle of orange juice onto the counter, letting Lena strategically pour the liquid into the glass. She fills it up without a spill, and the mother and daughter fist-bumped, opening their hand and wiggling their fingers with a "pshhh" to mimic an explosion.

Stefaniya places the last waffle onto the stack of four, letting Lena put the plate onto the wooden serving tray along with the strawberries, orange juice, and small cup of maple syrup. "How does it look?"

"Perfect!"

"Great job, little one. Mama will love this."

After quickly putting the refrigerated items away (the other ingredients could wait), Stefaniya sets Lena back onto the ground, following behind her with the tray. She nearly spills its contents when Lena makes a sudden stop down the hallway.

"Wait, we forgot the whipped cream! Mama loves whipped cream!"

Stefaniya mentally slaps herself in the face. "Right! Go get it, will you?"

Lena's tiny feet pats along the wooden floors as she reaches the refrigerator and grabs the red and white can, placed on one of the lower shelves for easier access.

The can emitted a "ktchh" sound as the whipped cream came out in a little spiral on top of the waffles. Pleased with the final touch, Lena turns the can towards her own mouth and gives herself a mouthful of whipped cream, giggling at Stefaniya's amused look.

"Okay, come on. Mama's going to wake up soon."

Lena abandons the can in the middle of the hallway and resumes her climb up the stairs, her mother not too far behind.

Meanwhile, her other mother was just beginning to wake up. She breathes deeply as she stretches, her body slightly shaking from the relief. She rubs her eyes, squinting at the sunlight from the windows. It was dimmer as it was winter, but bright nonetheless.

Suddenly, a forty-pound tiny human jumps onto her stomach, making her groan lightly. She opens her eyes again to see a bright face merely centimeters from her own.

"Happy birthday, Mama," her angel of a daughter whispers in Russian. At the foot of the bed, her beautiful wife stood with a soft smile.

"Good morning, my loves. Thank you, you didn't have to," Natasha gestures to the food, knowing full well that her comment would fall short.

Stefaniya gives her a short but sweet kiss. "You deserve it, сладость. Happy birthday." [sweetness]

Natasha smiles at the tray of food set on her lap. "Wow, this looks amazing! Who made this?"

"Lena did, all on her own," Stefaniya says, earning a giggle in reply.

"She's lying, Mama. I only did the strawberries and juice."

"Lena did most of the work, and it was her idea."

"Well, thank you both so much. This looks so amazing." Natasha kisses her daughter's and wife's cheek, both of them sporting identical grins.

The two wives cuddle up to each other while Lena rambles about an interesting dream she had, both she and Stefaniya sneaking bites of the delicious breakfast. Not that Natasha minded, of course.

"Hey, Lena," Stefaniya says to their daughter after they finished the food. "Why don't you go get the present for Mama?"

Lena lets out an excited squeak, running out of the room to get the box out from under her bed. Stefaniya waits until she's out of their view to kiss her wife deeply.

"Happy birthday. I love you so much," she whispers, her forehead pressed against Natasha's.

"I love you."

Lena announces her presence with a loud inhale of air, short of breath from running at the speed of light down the hallway. She climbs into the bed, setting the wrapped object next to Natasha's lap. Natasha let her fingers graze along the edges and corners of the present, feeling the familiar shape of a photo frame.

"Wow, I wonder what this could be?" Natasha asks Lena with a raise of her eyebrow.

Lena kicks her feet excitedly. "Open it, open it!"

Natasha does a dramatically slow act of peeling the gift wrapping, making both her daughter and wife huff in impatience.

"Mamaaaa."

Natasha laughs, finally pulling off the paper and revealing the gift. She instantly gasps, feeling tears start to prick at her eyes.

It was a black and white photograph of herself pressing a kiss to Lena's cheek, Lena smiling brightly. Both girls had visible freckles from the sun and pure happiness etched on their expressions. In the background was the beach that the family had visited over the summer. Natasha hadn't realised that this sweet moment had been captured on camera by her wife, who then was just trying out photography.

And, of course, the picture was tucked into a frame decorated by Lena herself. Colourful marker scribbles and stickers adorned the initially white plastic frame, all sealed under a layer of fixative. The letter stickers read, "My mama, my hero."

Lena climbs into her mother's lap, gently wiping away her tears. "You don't like it, mama?"

Natasha shakes her head quickly. "No, no, I do. I love it. These are happy tears, baby. Thank you so much."

Lena's frown turns into an endearing smile. "I love you, mama."

"I love you, too. So much."

Stefaniya tenderly kisses Natasha's forehead, wrapping her arms around her two girls. "And I love you, too. Both of you."

Natasha hasn't always had good birthdays, but none of those matter now that she's finally celebrating it with the people she loves.

-

A/N: my heartttt <3

[charmingly-helpless]

dad jokes

Summary: Stefaniya makes it her personal mission to annoy Natasha while she's cleaning up dinner.

Warnings: suggestive jokes

MMAOS Masterlist MMAOS Blurbs

༻✧༺

In her defense, it wasn't her fault.

She saw a chance and couldn't help herself.

...

It all started after Thanksgiving dinner.

After Thanos, the world took a dark turn. Hope was lost, people were gone, and happiness was something the remaining population didn't see a lot of. But over the years, Stefaniya had found herself being more thankful for what was left. Natasha, the Avengers, Yardstick, and everyone who kept working to try to bring the world to a new normalcy. It took a lot of convincing, but she managed to get everyone to spend a few hours of their Thanksgiving day together.

Stefaniya sits on top of the large kitchen counter while Natasha shoveled food into foil containers for Steve to take home. Yardstick nuzzles her face into Stefaniya's hand, and the woman lovingly strokes the cat. This was their fourth Thanksgiving and most of the team were elsewhere, but they hopped on a call to eat a meal together. It wasn't as nice as having them in person, but it was the best they could do.

Tony, Pepper, and four-year-old Morgan had just left. Steve was currently in the next room cleaning up the table and Stefaniya scrolled through her phone.

"Ooh, this is a good one!" She flapped her hand excitedly to grab her girlfriend's attention.

Natasha rolled her eyes playfully, this being the fifth dad joke she's heard so far. "Go ahead."

"How do you throw a space party?"

Natasha hummed in question.

Stefaniya giggled before saying the punchline. "You planet."

Natasha made eye contact with Stefaniya with an eyebrow raise.

"Oh, come on. I think Rocket would have liked that one."

"It's funny," Natasha replied with the slightest quirk of her lips.

"I knew it! I knew you'd think it was funny. Hey, Steve!"

Steve stopped at the edge of the counter, dropping a dirty paper towel into the bin. "Yeah?"

"Why aren't koalas considered bears?"

Steve's eyebrows knitted together. "Because they're marsupials."

Natasha snorted.

"'Because they're marsupials,'" Stefaniya mocked him. "No! Because they don't have the koala-fications."

Steve's face remained blank. He looked to his long-time friend for help. "What?"

Natasha shrugged, smirking.

"I've got another one. What's the difference between a good joke and a bad joke?"

"Wha—"

"Timing!" Stefaniya cut off Steve.

Steve's expression grew more puzzled. "Wait, what?"

Stefaniya groaned in defeat. "Okay. I'm done."

"Good," Natasha held out an empty container. "You can help me."

Stefaniya accepted the container, popping the lid off. Her fingertips grazed the raised bumps on the bottom of the flimsy container. She flipped it over, reading the embossing.

"'Always support the bottom,'" she read out loud. She looked to Natasha, who was spraying down some plates in the sink. "You're doing really great, babe."

Natasha's face flushed red, but Stefaniya doesn't have the time to notice and tease her about it before a powerful stream of water hits her square in the face. Yardstick lets out an agitated yowl and leaps off the counter.

"Oi, Nat! You've made me wet!" Stefaniya whined, not realizing the double entendre.

Natasha pulled out the extendable faucet again and hit Stefaniya with more water.

"No, it was— that was unintentional!"

With a laugh, Natasha turned off the water, taking in the sight of her soaking wet girlfriend and Steve, who was caught in the splash zone.

"Thanks a bunch, Romanoff."

Natasha laughed again at Steve's annoyed face before he walked away to the bathroom. She looked back to Stefaniya, who tugged on her clothes that clung to her body.

"Don't pout," Natasha leaned over to cradle her girlfriend's chin with her hand. "I'm sorry."

Stefaniya smiled softly, pecking Natasha's lips. "I forgive you. Help me out of these clothes, please."

"Come on."

Natasha wrapped Stefaniya with a blanket she took off of the couch to reduce the trail of water she'd leave on the way up to their bedroom. They both caught a glimpse of the TV, where a reporter on the screen spoke about a minor fire that broke out in a convenience store in the city.

"Hey, did you hear about the bakery that caught fire last night?" Stefaniya nudged Natasha with her elbow.

Natasha furrowed her eyebrows in concern. "Really?"

"Yeah. The business was toast."

She quickly realized that Stefaniya wasn't serious. "You son of a—"

-

A/N: i giggled writing this

[charmingly-helpless]

the first night

Summary: the first time Stefaniya spends the night in the Avengers compound after the battle against Thanos (Infinity War)

Warnings: none, I think?

MMAOS Masterlist MMAOS Blurbs

༻✧༺

Natasha had one hand on Stefaniya's back, guiding the dazed woman to one of the guest bedrooms in her own area of the Avengers compound. She twists the doorknob and pushes it lightly, the momentum swinging the door open, and leads Stefaniya into the big room. Stefaniya hesitantly sinks into the mattress. She stares blankly at her feet.

"The bathroom's in here," Natasha taps on a door to her left, speaking softly. "Everything you'll need is in there. If you need anything else, my room is across the hall from you. There's some standard S.H.I.E.L.D. t-shirts, pants, and a jacket in the closet. Help yourself to them."

Natasha moves back to the door leading out, keeping her eyes glued to the catatonic woman sitting on the guest bed.

"I'll leave you to it." She steps out, taking one last worried glance at Stefaniya before gently closing the door with a click.

---

Stefaniya tosses and turns, staring at the ceiling illuminated by one lamp. The bed was too soft, too warm. The headboard was a solid panel of wood, unlike the bedframe she had back at the Widows facility. The room had more space than she needed. She was uncomfortably comfortable.

Back in the Red Room, all the girls were handcuffed to their beds to ensure that they would stay there all night. After escaping, Stefaniya would continue the ritual. The cold metal that clasped against her wrists so tightly that it bruised her skin gave her a sense of comfort, as peculiar as it may sound to someone with a more... normal upbringing. She'd gotten better with it, but sometimes she would hold onto the metal bars of her bed's headboard to imitate the feeling of being restrained.

Not this time, though, as she frustratedly hits her hand against the wooden headboard. This bed gave her no way of restraining herself, plus the fact that she did not have handcuffs with her. She considered asking one of the (remaining) Avengers to lend her a pair, but the idea of speaking to someone seemed too frightening. Not to mention the questions that would come with her asking for a pair of handcuffs to bring to bed.

She huffs sharply, sitting herself up. She crosses her arms and pouts in a child-like manner, staring out of the large window in the left wall. The city lights were scarce, due to the lowered number of residents in the buildings.

Stefaniya stands up to her feet, black spots in her vision. The lightheadedness eventually passes and she pulls the comforter off of the bed, dragging it to the ceiling to floor-length windows. Her muscles screamed with exhaustion as she once again settles down, using her own arm as a pillow and pulling the comforter over her body.

Across the hall, Natasha hears small noises from the guest room. It was eerily quiet in the compound that night, and the shuffling was more noticeable. It suddenly stops, and Natasha waits a few moments in her bed in silence.

She knew she wasn't going to get any sleep, not after the events a few hours prior, so gives into her curiosity. She slips out of her warm bed, nudging down one leg of her sweatpants that had slid up to her knee. Her bare feet pad out of her room and then plants itself in front of the door of the guest room.

Natasha knocks softly, not wanting to startle the woman behind the door.

"Stefaniya?"

Unsettling thoughts conjure up in her brain and she holds in a breath, opening the door. The dim orange glow of the lamp causes her to squint slightly. She sees the bed empty and her heart skips a beat.

"Stef?" Natasha whispers. She moves to the right side of the bed closest to the windows and sees a small lump under the comforter.

"Please go away," Stefaniya speaks softly.

Natasha pushes away the slight sting of her words. "Stef, is something wrong with your bed?"

"Too soft," she replies in raspy Russian.

Natasha nods to herself in understanding. "I'll be right back, okay?"

She waits to hear a mumbled reply before going back to her room. She opens the door to her walk-in closet to find the thin twin-sized mattress behind a rack of her shirts. She pulls it out, standing it upright and carries the thin sheet of foam over to the guest room again. She makes sure to grab a pair of handcuffs from her weapons drawer of her dresser.

Stefaniya is sitting up on the floor when she comes back in.

"Stand up, please," Natasha orders quietly as she begins to set the mattress down.

Stefaniya obeys, standing by the bed while Natasha pushes the mattress to the floor and lays the comforter on top. She eyes the pair of handcuffs dangling in Natasha's hand.

"Try it out," Natasha juts her chin towards the mattress on the floor next to the windows. Stefaniya lowers herself onto it, the thin sheet of foam almost useless as she could still feel the hard ground underneath, though it was exactly as her mattress was in Red Room.

Natasha holds out the handcuffs and a key. "I know it's a hard adjustment, so I'll let you have these for a few nights. But we're going to work on weaning off of it, okay?"

The younger woman nods, taking the cuffs and key into her hands. Natasha watches as she clicks one of the cuffs onto her right wrist and the other around the leg of the nightstand. She sets the key on the ground above her head, pleased with the familiar bite of metal around her wrist.

"Try to get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight," Natasha begins to leave.

"Wait."

Natasha turned around, her heart skipping a beat.

"Stay?" came Stefaniya's voice in a whisper.

"Of course."

Natasha settled on the bed, covering herself with the throw blanket.

"Goodnight."

"G'night."