sgm616

[sgm616]

A dog accident

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

genre: flufy  ||     warnings: none

Summary: On an ordinary afternoon, your girlfriend's crazy friend turns you into a furry four-legged being

You're dating Wanda Maximoff, which in itself is already pretty fantastical. You, a self-proclaimed dork who still gets excited about new socks, are going out with a genuine superhero. It's a love story for the ages, or at least one that you’re constantly trying not to overthink.

And then there’s Agatha Harkness. The woman is an enigma wrapped in a slightly dusty velvet cloak. She's Wanda's sort-of-mentor, sort-of-friend, and a full-time chaos generator. You’ve learned to accept her as a permanent fixture in your life, mostly because Wanda adores her, and partially because you suspect refusing would end with you inexplicably speaking only in limericks.

It's a quiet Saturday. You're sprawled on the couch, a book about the migratory patterns of garden snails open in your lap, but your mind is decidedly elsewhere. You’re replaying a particularly smooth move Wanda pulled in the kitchen last night while making pancakes. It was the way she flicked her wrist, sending the pancake soaring and landing perfectly on the plate. You’ve been practicing it for hours but the closest you've gotten has been flicking butter across the room. You’re shaken out of your reverie by Agatha bursting through the front door with the subtlety of a rhinoceros in a tutu.

“Wanda darling! I need… a thing!” she declares, holding up a glass jar filled with something that looks suspiciously like glowing pond scum. “For… research!”

Wanda, looking as serene and beautiful as ever, emerges from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel. “Agatha, what is that?” she asks, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Oh, just a few… essential ingredients for a spell. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.” Agatha’s smile is a little too wide, a little too manic. You’ve learned that this is her default I’m about to do something incredibly stupid expression.

You, meanwhile, have retreated further into the cushions, trying to become one with the couch. You’re pretty sure you’re invisible, like a well-camouflaged houseplant.

“And you,” Agatha says, pointing a crooked finger directly at you. “You’ll be the perfect… subject!”

Your heart does a little tap dance in your chest. “Subject?” you squeak, your voice cracking like a teenage boy going through puberty.

Wanda looks at you with a mixture of concern and fondness. “Agatha, put the pond scum down. You know you can’t just experiment on random people.” She glares at Agatha with a look that could melt steel.

“Nonsense!” Agatha waves her hand dismissively, which is a mistake because the jar of pond scum slips from her grasp, the green liquid splashing all over you. "Whoops!"

Before you can even register what happened, a peculiar tingling sensation washes over you. Your vision blurs, your limbs feel weirdly heavy, and you feel an uncontrollable urge to scratch behind your ear with your foot.

You blink, and the world suddenly looks a whole lot larger. The couch now looms like a terrifying mountain range, and Wanda, the woman you love, is towering over you looking like an adorable giant. You let out a curious bark.

“Oh. My.” Wanda says slowly, her eyes as wide as saucers.

Agatha stares at you with a mixture of horror and fascination. “Well, that is… unexpected.”

You wag your tail tentatively. Yep, you definitely had a tail. You try to speak. What comes out is a series of yips and woofs. Your hands, or rather, paws, twitch as you try to grasp at the situation. You’re a dog. A fluffy, medium-sized, caramel colored something with comically large ears and a rapidly wagging tail.

“Agatha!” Wanda hisses, her voice low and dangerous. “You turned my girlfriend into a dog!”

“Well, yes, but it was an accident!” Agatha protests, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “I was aiming for a newt, I swear!”

You tilt your head, your tongue lolling out of your mouth. You want to ask if they have any treats, but you can only manage a happy bark.

“Okay, okay, no need to get dramatic,” Agatha says, pacing back and forth. “We just need to figure out how to change you back. I think I might have reversed that spell. Or maybe not, it depends on if I used a pinch of salamander eyes or bat wings. They're kinda similar.”

Wanda lets out a frustrated groan. "Agatha, you absolute menace."

The next few hours are an absolute blur. Wanda and Agatha are now trying to solve the mystery of your transformation. You, being a dog, are mostly just enjoying the abundance of belly rubs and the fact that you can now lick your own foot. You tried to help by bringing them your favorite squeaky toy, but the two witches seem to be too preoccupied with their spell books to appreciate your contribution.

You watch as Wanda and Agatha argue, occasionally throwing out phrases like “counter-curse,” “elemental transference,” and “what did you mean by using the left hind leg of a frog?” You realize this is probably more chaotic than your average Saturday.

At one point, Agatha tries a spell that makes your fur turn bright pink for a few minutes, this was quickly reversed by Wanda as she glared at Agatha. You were actually rather fond of the pink fur, and you make a mental note to ask Wanda to do that again.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of chanting and potion-mixing, Agatha exclaims, “I think… I think I’ve got it! This final ingredient should do the trick!” She holds up a small, suspiciously sparkly vial.

Wanda looks at you, her eyes full of anxious hope. “Ready, sweetheart?”

You bark excitedly, your tail wagging so hard your whole body wiggles. Anything to be human again.

Agatha pours the contents of the vial over your head. This time, the tingling sensation is different, accompanied by a whooshing sound and a strong smell of lavender. You blink, and you're back in your human form. You’re no longer covered in fur, and your paws are, once again, hands. Your heart nearly jumps out your chest in relief.

“Am I… me again?” you ask, your voice still a little shaky.

Wanda rushes forward, pulling you into a tight hug, her face buried in your hair. “You’re back,” she whispers, her voice thick with relief. “You’re really back.”

Agatha, meanwhile, is beaming at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “See? I told you I’d fix it. Just another Saturday for the amazing Agatha Harkness!”

You look at her, then back at Wanda, a smile spreading across your face. This is your life now. A chaotic, wonderful, and utterly bizarre life, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[sgm616]

the holy grail types of fanfic

[sgm616]

Steve: How is everyone doing today?

Y/N: Well, I’m still breathing.

Steve: Are your standards really that low?

Y/N: I mean, it’s better than Peter over there.

Peter, having a panic attack: I can’t breathe.

[sgm616]

i remember.

natasha romanoff x reader - angst, fluff - 6.2k

You don’t know what’s happening. That’s the first thing you think of when you wake up in an alley, gloved hands covered in blood. Confusion filters through your head. 

What happened?

Where are you?

You stand up slowly, your body swaying as you look down at what you’re wearing. You’re in a pair of black jeans, with rips throughout both legs and as you look closer you only notice how the rips have been made from slashes of a knife as your blood is dry underneath them. Your hoodie is soaking wet, your hands going into the pocket to be met with a gun and a knife. 

None of this makes sense. 

Standing there confused you try your hardest to remember anything. Anything at all. 

Red hair. Piercing green eyes. 

Death. Destruction. Pain. Loss. 

Memories whip through your brain as soon as your hand wraps around your gun. But still, none of it makes sense. 

What year is it?

You stumble down the alley, hand still wrapped around the gun resting in your pocket. You stare up at the buildings surrounding you. New York. You’re in New York. 

You watch as people pass by, words fading in and out of people’s conversations. You feel a pull, your body trying to get you to move in a certain direction but you have no clue why. 

You decide to give in, allowing your body to move. You stumble into someone muttering a sorry as they tell you to watch where you’re going. 

“What year is it?” You ask them, panic and confusion filling your voice.  “2018…” Panic feels you all over again. No that doesn’t make any sense. That’s not the year. 

Red hair. Piercing green eyes. 

A name to match the features. It echoes around your head in confusion. You know her. You can feel it. You can feel it with everything inside of you. 

Your breathing picks up, and you need to hide. You rush down another alley, hiding behind a dumpster as your head falls into your hands. 

It hurts. Your brain hurts. 

Everything is rushing through you. A place called SHEILD, the Avengers. Red hair and piercing green eyes. 

But then that stops. 

Memories of your hands hurting people now rush through you. People hurting you.

Cold. Dark. Wet. Pain. Agony. 

Then it all hits you at once. You can remember it so clearly. 

The mission, your arm getting trapped under rubble, telling her to leave. The building exploding. All you can remember after that was black and then it’s the pain. 

5 years. How, how has it been 5 years? 

Natasha? 

Natasha. Red hair, piercing green eyes. 

Her face is now so clear in your head. 

You’ve been gone 5 years. You need to find her. 

You stand up again. Walking out of the alley, taking in your surroundings as you try to get your memory to cooperate with how to get to the tower. 

She will be at the tower. 

She is the only person who makes sense. 

Everyone else is a blur. 

You find yourself walking so fast down the street, people staring at you as you practically start running. The route becomes clear in your head as you finally stop outside. 

Your hand grips your gun, you can’t be too careful, not until you find her. They could still be looking for you. 

As you walk in, alarms go off behind you as you pass through the door. Confusion fills you as you hurry to the desk. 

“Natasha. Where is Natasha?” Your hand is gripping your gun so tight.  “We need you to step back.” Voices surround you. You turn slowly, people with guns ready and raised. Your hand now lifting out of your hoodie, gun in hand like it would even match theirs. 

“NATASHA. WHERE IS NATASHA!” You shout, frustration coursing through you, why won’t people answer you?  “PUT THE GUN DOWN!” You don’t. You move closer towards the man who is shouting. Before you can reach him he shoots. 

You feel the bullet lodge into your shoulder. But you don’t stop, no pain registers. 

“I need Natasha! Listen to me!!!” You beg, you plead. Why won’t they listen?  “Natasha, who?” You wrack your brain for an answer, you try so hard, your hands finding your head as you start to hit it to try and remember. 

“Red hair, piercing green eyes!” The men around you turn to each other, murmuring as they continue to look at you.  “Come with us.” Sirens go off in your head. You aren’t leaving unless it’s with her.  “No. No. You bring her here to me, NOW!” You raise your gun again. Everyone raises theirs to face you, matching your stance. 

“We need you to drop the gun.”

“Not until she is here.” You don’t give up. If you’re leaving it’s with her. 

She is the only thing clear in your head. Your body calms with the thought of her. Memories of whispered confessions, secret nights lying beside one another, her laugh, the way your body reacted to hers, and vice versa. She is the only thing clear. You need her here now. 

“Y/n?” A man’s voice has you turning around. Your gun now facing him. His face seems familiar but you can’t place a name. It’s so frustrating, having that familiarity, but none of it makes any sense. “I don’t, I need Natasha.” You stumble over your words, tears filling your eyes at the pain going through your head. 

“Okay, okay. Do you remember me?” The man asks you, you close your eyes, trying so fucking hard to remember but you can’t. You shake your head at his question, opening your eyes to see him moving closer. 

“No, stay back! Don’t, don’t come closer!” You shout at him. His movement instantly stopped at your words. “Ok, I’m sorry. I’ll stay right here. Everyone clear the room!” He shouts his last sentence your body tensing as you watch everyone start moving around you, hurrying to the doors. You’re left in the lobby of the tower, just you and this man standing opposite each other. 

“Natasha.” Is all you can get out of your mouth once everyone has left. “She is coming, ok. How about we lower the gun and take a seat?” You shake your head no. You can’t sit down. Your hands find your head again. Your gun hits the side of your head as your frustration builds. You’re pacing around now. Even more, memories spiral around. 

The man with you, his face shows in some of the memories, but his name is still so far away. It frustrates you to no end. All of this is so confusing and you’re becoming tired. 

“Clint? What’s going on?” You turn around at the voice. Your arm lowers as your body sags in relief. Her voice is the same, she is the same. 

“Y/n?” She asks in shock, your body shaking as tears build in your eyes. She is real, you remember her. She starts rushing towards you and you hate how your body’s reaction is to raise your gun again. But she doesn’t stop moving. She keeps coming closer. 

“Stop, stop.” 

“Y/n, it’s okay. I’m here.” No, no. This could be a trap. 

“Tell me something only you would know.” Her eyes widen, you can see her wracking her brain for anything. 

“You have a birthmark that looks like a giraffe on the inside of your left thigh.” She smiles shyly at you but it only breaks you more. 

“No, no, they…they’d know that now!” You shout at her, gun gripping so tight as you move your aim to her head. If you pulled the trigger it would hit right in between her eyes. 

“Ok. Ok. Let’s calm down. It’s fine. Your favorite time of the year is winter, and it’s because it means we have longer nights in bed where we can just cuddle and be us. We can make hot chocolates and watch films in the comfort of each other arms. With no one else annoying us because they know it’s our time. Your favorite color is green, but not any green but the green in a forest when the sun hits it just right, it’s your favorite because you always said it reminded you of me. You only like marshmallows when they're toasted over a fire, other than that you hate them, they have to be gooey. You only like peanut butter with apples, anything else and you hate it. You used to hum songs in the shower no matter your mood. You would always wake before me and pull me closer to you and let me sleep for a little while longer before we had to get up to train-”

“Natasha…” You sob out, dropping the gun as you fall to your knees. Natasha finally approaches you properly now. Her arms surround you as she brings you so tightly into her. You hesitate to put your arms around her, but you grip her thighs so tightly you’re afraid you’ll leave bruises. 

“I remembered you. Only you. It’s taken me too long. I’ve been gone. I got taken. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Five years. Natasha. Red hair, piercing green eyes. I remember you. I only remember you.” You can’t stop crying, your face pushing harder into her neck and finally, you allow your arms to surround her as you take in the scent of her shampoo. 

“You’re ok. You’re here now. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Natasha whispers into your ear. Her hand comes up to the back of your head, holding you where you are, not letting you out of her arms. It’s like your body reacts to her now exaggerated breathing, her silently telling you that you need to calm down, you need to breathe. You take yourself out of her neck, your forehead finally resting on hers as you stare into her eyes. 

“I remember you.” You mutter. A smile and tears grace her face as she cups your cheek. 

“I’m glad you did. Let’s get you home, okay?” Confusion fills your face. Moving back and looking around you. “This is home?” You’re confused and rightfully so, it has been 5 years. 

“We moved a few years ago, somewhere bigger, more private. Come on, let me and Clint take you home.” She starts to stand up, her hand reaching out for yours. “Who’s Clint?” You whisper, holding her hand gently as she starts to walk towards the guy who called your name earlier. “This is Clint.” She points to him, he offers you a gentle smile, your face staying straight as you take him in. You know his face is familiar and you know that you do know him, the earlier memories of him popping up but everything else is blank. You hate it.

You stay silent the whole car journey, your hand fiddling with Natashas as she sits in the back with you. You keep trying to remember, but nothing is coming through, memories rifle through your head but they're all silent. Only she is clear, her voice is clear, her laugh. Nothing else. You can feel Natasha's eyes on you, moving between your bloodied gloved hands that she hasn’t said anything about, to your face, and then the blood seeping from your wounded shoulder. 

You pull up to the ‘compound’ as Nat called it, people rushing out of the doors have your body tensing, your hand instantly going into your pocket to grab your gun but come up empty remembering that you dropped it at the tower, but your hand wraps around the knife still present in the pocket. 

“Hey, it’s okay. They’re good, they’re safe. You know all of them but 3, it’s okay.” Natasha turns to you, her hand finding your cheek as she tries to reassure you. 

You step out of the car slowly, Natasha staying close to you as you finally approach the people standing in front of you. 

“Y/n?!” You meet eyes with another tall man with blonde hair and blue eyes. He was in your memories. He seems shocked, relieved, and also kind of scared. But you’re not shocked, they must have thought you were dead for the past 5 years. You go to reply but stop short when you take in the person coming up behind him. That’s another face in your memories but they’re not good. 

You take a glance at Natasha, her gun in a holster on her side, you reach towards it before anyone can see what you're doing, aiming the gun at him. Everyone stands still, no one talks, no one breathes as you stare at him. 

“You said it was safe.” You say out loud, your words aimed at Natasha, but you can’t look at her, you can’t take your eyes off of him. “It is. Put the gun down.” Natasha steps in front of the gun but you aim it higher, moving your body a fraction so if you shoot it will still hit him. 

“It’s not safe if he is here!” You try to tell her but she shakes her head. “He is good, whatever memories you're thinking right now, he is good. He was taken too. He was brainwashed, he is Steve's best friend, think back more, before the Avengers, think!” You close your eyes when you feel Natasha’s hand touch your chest, your arm lowering as you allow her to take the gun. You try to think, pushing away the bad, you try to think of anything and then it happens. The guy's face coming up next to the blonde man, both wearing army uniforms. It hurts, it’s confusing, and nothing makes sense.

“You’re safe here, I wouldn’t lie to you. Would I lie to you?” Natasha whispers between you both, your eyes opening and meeting hers, your body relaxes again as you shake your head no. She wouldn’t lie to you, she never would. She sends you a small smile as her hand finds yours again, walking you towards the compound, towards the people who move out of the way for Natasha and you. Only one person goes to speak, but Natasha shakes her head and pulls me along with her, the person instantly silencing themselves. 

You take in your surroundings. Counting every step you take, remembering the way to where Natasha is taking you. She places her thumb on a doorknob, the door clicking open, and she takes you into what looks like an apartment. You walk through yourself stopping just after the door not knowing what to do with yourself.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, then we can talk, okay?” You nod your head, words seeming like they can’t come to you right now, the confusion lingers, and nothing makes sense. Everything is so quiet. 

A knock at the door has you gripping your knife again, Natasha pauses and moves back towards it being met with the guy called Clint. He hands some clothes to Natasha, sending her a smile before she closes the door again and meets you back in the middle of the room. She walks you through into a bedroom until she opens another door and you're suddenly in a bathroom. 

“Do, do you want or need help cleaning up?” You stare back at her, you don’t want her to leave, she is the only thing that makes sense. You nod, accepting her help as she places the clothes onto the side, moving to another cupboard taking some towels out, and placing them onto the same side. She stands opposite you, her eyes still filled with tears as she takes a deep breath. Her hand moves slowly to your jacket, peeling it off of your body gently, her hands then go to the bottom of your hoodie, lifting it over her head. When it hits the floor she steps away from you, her tears falling, her mouth hanging open as she stares at you. 

You don’t understand why until you look down on yourself. Your left arm is…it’s metal? Shock feels your face as you take off the gloves covering your hands, your flesh arm moves to touch the metal, it’s freezing. You spot a mirror on the wall moving quickly to stand in front of it, you try your hardest to ignore Natasha's gasp as you stand with your back to her. You take yourself in, your metal arm, scars littering your whole torso. 

You close your eyes again. 

Your left side was trapped in the explosion. You open your eyes suddenly, more memories coming to you as you hurry to take off your trousers pushing them down your legs. Your left leg is metal too… You suppose it makes sense, you were trapped, they were probably ruined, and whoever got to you knew you’d be useless to them without anything replacing them. You flinch slightly when you feel hands slowly gliding up you're back. You look into the mirror your eyes spotting Natashas as she looks back at you through the mirror. 

“You were trapped…” 

“I know.” 

“I shouldn’t have left.”

“I told you to.”

“I shouldn’t have listened.” 

“You’d be dead if you stayed.” 

She doesn't say anything to that, because she knows it’s true.

Her hands surround your waist as she buries her head in between your shoulder blades. 

“I missed you, every day, I missed you so much.” You hear her mumble. Your back starting to get wet from her tears. You don’t know what to say, the past 5 years don’t make any sense, you can’t tell her you missed her too when you don’t even know if, in those 5 years, you even remembered her. And it breaks your heart when your silence makes her sobs echo within the bathroom. 

You don’t move, allowing her to get out what she needs to. This can’t be easy for her either. She thought you were dead for 5 years just to show up all over again. The years of bent-up anger and grief spilled out of her. 

You only then move when you feel her arms losing their grip and her sobs only seeming to get louder, if that was even possible. You turn around just in time to catch her, her body giving out to her emotional turmoil. Bringing her head to your chest, while holding her so tightly just so she can feel that you're real, feel like you are truly here after all this time. And secretly to remind yourself of the same things. She is still here too, she is also real, she isn’t something your mind has conjured up in your state. 

It isn’t long before she pulls away again, turning her back to you as she subtly wipes her eyes and cheeks before moving towards her shower. She doesn’t say a word, she doesn’t make a single sound while she focuses on her task at hand. And when she is done, she stays with her back to you and leaves the room before you can even utter any more words to her. 

You let the water completely engulf you as you try to focus on everything flowing through your head. You need to remember everything, every single moment, every single name and memory. The bad, the good, the ugly, you don't care. You lean over to grab some body wash on the side and the smell seems to trigger everything. 

Memories flood through you, names, faces, voices, everything. Your whole life flashes before your eyes and it should overwhelm you. But all you feel is relief. Relief of remembering, regardless of the bad you remember after being taken, that somehow fades away when Natasha’s face sits at the front of your mind. 

You're drawn from your thoughts when you can hear shouting echoing through the sound of the water hitting the sides of the shower, rushing out and throwing on the clothes Natasha left you before stepping out of the bathroom. 

Natasha is standing with the door wide open as Fury stands opposite her. They both stop talking when you slam the bathroom door to draw their attention away from one another.

“Nicholas.” You say clearly, shock filling Natasha's face as you move closer to them. 

“Y/n.” He echos right back, a smirk filling his face when you finally approach him, your arm winding around Natasha's waist to bring her closer to you, needing to feel her body heat against your cold skin. 

“Why are you both shouting, I could hear you both in the shower.” Natasha stays silent, her eyes furrowing as she looks up at Fury, his face having the same expression as hers. He doesn’t answer you and neither does she, he simply looks between you both and then speaks to Natasha, “10 minutes, meeting room.” And then he walks away. 

Natasha gets out of your grip, closing the door when Fury moves away. She stays quiet again, her back facing you as she stays with her back to you. The coldness confuses you, it hurts just as much. 

“We should head to the meeting room.” She finally says, her back still to you. “Nat, what’s, what’s wrong?” You whisper, placing your hand on her shoulder but you're met with her shrugging it off and moving away from you. 

“You were dead, for 5 years, to me, to all of us, you were dead. I grieved you, I put flowers on your empty grave every week. Every week since your funeral. For a whole year, I couldn’t go on missions, I couldn’t work. I didn’t leave the tower until your funeral, and then after that, I didn’t leave my room for 3 months. I then didn't go on missions for 6 months either, because you were dead. And I, I hated you for that, I hated that you made me leave, I hated that you radioed Tony to come and get me and I hated that we were forced to leave without even looking for your body. I hated that when I finally found the strength to pack your stuff away, I found a ring in your shoes. And right now, god I am so fucking happy and relieved you're alive but…” She breathes, she wipes her eyes and she meets your eyes, and the look in them breaks you. 

“But, I have now lived 5 long years without you and I’m not the ‘me’ you remember or know, Y/n. I’m not.” 

“I remembered you, Natasha, I woke up in an alley not even knowing what year it was and all I could remember was you. I remember YOU. I can- let me get to know who you are now, let me, let me remember you for who you are now.” You beg her, you need her. Especially now.

“You remembered the old me, Y/n. I’m not someone who you can love anymore. I’m not, that’s gone, that person died the day that you died.”

“Natasha…”

“We need to go to the meeting room.” She tries to deflect.

“I want to talk to you more than talking to Fury.”

“I can’t do this right now, please. Just please, let me take this in, you're here and you're alive and I don’t, I can’t process this right now.” She opens the door and walks out, the conversation over with. 

She leads you down to the meeting room, walking in front of you the whole time, every time you try to match her pace she only walks faster to get further away from you. You hate the distance between you both but you do understand it, as much as it hurts. She needs to process this, you’ve been gone, a lot has happened in those years and you can’t force her to stay if she doesn’t want to. So you’re not shocked when she walks you into the meeting room and leaves immediately after. 

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

You tell Fury everything. How you somehow survived the explosion, and how you remember your body being pulled from the rubble, thinking it was SHEILD but it wasn't. You tell him about the months of tests completed on you, the super soldier serum that now floods through your veins. You tell him every mission you remember, the dates, the countries, the kills. He takes you to the med bay next, and more blood is taken from you as you show them your new leg and arm, they pay close attention to the scars covering your body and you try not to cower away at that. After he is done with that he takes you to the gym, making you run the fastest you can, lifting the heaviest weights you can. You ignore the looks of shock on his and Marias faces as they write everything down. 

When you finally land back in the meeting room, you all sit in silence. Fury and Maria, continuously look at each other and then back to you. You sit back twirling your thumbs as you wait for them to say anything. And Maria is the first one to choke. 

“How do you feel? You couldn't remember anything but Natasha 5 hours ago.” I shrug my shoulders trying to find the right words to say. 

“Honestly, I feel okay. At first, it was overwhelming not remembering anything, but then when everything hit me, I was just relieved, relieved that I could actually remember. Yeah, my time at Hydra was shit, but it happened, and I’m here now. And there is only one Hydra base left which I just gave you the location too and within days that will be gone too. So I feel relieved because I won’t go back there. Because I am here, with people I know and remember. I may be different now, I know I’m different and in a week I could be feeling completely different, so if and when I do feel different, I will come straight to Maria. I promise, I am here and I am present.” I lay my hands on the table as I finish talking, Fury and Maria nodding their heads at my words. 

“I’ll sort out your death certificate. I’ll sort out your bank account and ID, all of that stuff. You’ll have it within a day. Oh, and all of your pension that we owed you for being dead I guess.” Fury tells you, standing up and leaving, but not without placing his hand on your shoulder and saying, “I’m glad you're back Y/n.”

Maria stays sitting for longer, her hands fiddling with paperwork as she gets it all together. You know she wants to say something, but you know she won’t. “So, Natasha kind of hates me, I guess.” You try to break the silence, but Maria's sighing makes her stop her movements. 

“It was rough. She wasn’t Natasha anymore, any trace of her was gone and it took a while to try and bring her back but she didn't, not really anyway. I’ve seen Natasha be so many different people, around different people but around you, that was Natasha. How she was with the guys, it wasn't how she was when you were here. But no one could do or say anything because we all knew it wouldn’t matter. Because you were gone and because of that, she wasn't ever going to come back. Especially after she found the ring. She used to wear it you know. All the time, no one said anything, worried about how she would react and then one day she stopped, and we all just thought, she had accepted it. That you were gone and wasn't coming back. She doesn’t hate you, I know she doesn’t, but right now, those 5 years of grief and loss, she is hating herself for giving up when you were out there all along, alive.” Maria, sits herself down next to you, leaning against the table as you furrow your brows, trying to process her words. You get it, like you already said, you understand. You can’t even begin to imagine what it would be like if the roles were the other way. Honestly, you would probably react the same way she is. 

“It wasn’t her fault.” You whisper, tears building in your eyes.

“To her, it is, was her fault. So what are you going to do about it, super soldier?”

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

You had been at the compound for a week now. It had been good, fun even. You knew most people, that is the original 6 of the Avengers. It was nice to be with them again, joking and laughing like you did all those years ago. It also helped that some new additions to the team were also nice.

It would have only been perfect if Natasha was there too but she wasn't. She had disappeared when you finally came out of your meeting with Fury and Maria, and it didn't surprise you when Clint was also gone. You knew where they were, at Clint’s farm. She needed space, you understood that but you wished she at least told you she had left, but you had to realize she didn't owe you that at all. 

It was by the second week at the compound that it then started to feel like you were now intruding into Natasha's life without you. She still hadn't come home. The constant thoughts of just leaving so she could come back were always floating around your head but another part also kept telling you that she just needs to process this and then she will be home, she will be back and it will all be okay. 

It was so conflicting, the constant back and forth. You wanted, no needed to call her but knew you shouldn’t. It kept you up most nights, resulting in you ending up falling asleep on the couch instead of in your cozy new bedroom, courtesy of Tony, it felt weird sleeping in a bed without her. It might have been 5 years, but in those 5 years, you hadn't even slept in a bed. It just never felt right, you didn't know what to do with your arms, and you didn't know how to lay. It was as if you could only exist with your arms surrounding her and it was tearing you apart.

By the third week, you were begging Maria for permission to use a jet. Natasha hadn’t answered any of your calls, texts, or even emails. Neither had Clint. Everyone could see it was affecting you, they all kept trying to tell you she would be back when she was ready but at this point, it didn't feel like she was coming back. Clint showed up in the middle of the third week, you tried speaking to him about Natasha but he wouldn’t budge. He wouldn’t answer any of your questions, but he could hear and see the distress. You felt erratic, you didn’t feel like yourself and it was making it all worse. He wouldn’t let you see her or speak to her, he wouldn’t even say her name. He wouldn’t even tell you if she was safe, and that’s when you lost it. 

You had him pinned against a way, Bucky and Steve on either side of you trying to pry you off of him but even with their strength, you didn't move a muscle. And finally, when Clint realized you weren’t going to let go that’s when he muttered that Natasha was safe, something he could have done 30 minutes ago when you had asked in the first place. But you continued to hold him. Maria walked into the room then, coming up by your side and telling you to let him go. You could hear it in her voice that she wasn't going to ask again and you dropped him, walking away and out of the door without turning round. 

It got to the point where the weeks turned into months. Still no sign of her, still no word from her. It was breaking you apart. You completely distanced yourself from everyone, only coming out of your room in the middle of the night to go to the gym and then taking as much food and drink as you could back up to your room. You hadn't slept, and the bed still didn’t feel right. It was exhausting. 

And that’s when it suddenly felt like you were being punished. 

That this was only a fraction of what Natasha felt. And that she was doing this on purpose.

It all turned to anger. 

You didn’t expect to get taken. You thought you were going to die. It wasn’t your fault you lived, it wasn’t your fault you didn’t look for her. You didn't remember anything until waking up all over again in an alley 5 years later. 

She was punishing you, even if she didn't realize it. 

You called her again. Her answerphone breaks you. You cried down the phone, begging for her to come home, to talk to you. To stop acting like you had died. That you have both already lost 5 years, you don’t need to lose more. 

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

Tony was having a party, you don't know what for. Something about it had ‘been a while’. You wanted nothing more than to stay in your bedroom, but Bucky and Steve wouldn’t let you. They forced you up, made you shower and get dressed. 

The party was boring, Thor had gone back to Asgard so in turn had taken his mead, which was the only thing that could even get you the slightest bit drunk. It felt pointless drinking when it didn’t do anything. 

The night seemed to go too slow, people coming and going as they pleased. People greet you for one minute and then say goodbye. It felt pointless. It felt like maybe 5 years ago you should have died instead. It felt like life didn’t have a meaning anymore. 

Everyone tried to get you to stay, the party still in full swing but you felt so dejected and so far from everyone it just seemed so pointless. All of it seemed pointless. They could see it too, the light in your eyes was gone, the lingering thoughts of Natasha affecting how you carried yourself every day. They saw the similarities from when Natasha lost you. It started to feel like Natasha definitely wasn’t coming back and everyone else finally started to agree. 

The party had been over for a few hours now, the clock reading 3:23 am. The room was still a mess but it felt fitting that it was the only place that would stop your thoughts from flying all over the place. You were no longer in the clothes you wore to the party but were now sporting an oversized hoodie and sweats. You got yourself comfortable on the couch. Throwing the rubbish on top of it onto the floor, someone else will deal with it tomorrow. 

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You needed to sleep. It had been days since you last slept, you were well and truly exhausted. You just needed to sleep to get your head straight again. 

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

You felt a weight on your chest, your body going tense instantly, wanting to sit up. But a hand on your cheeks stops you. You keep your eyes closed, afraid that if you open them it won’t be real. That the familiar touch and smell isn’t Natasha, that she is a fragment of your exhausted and emotional mind. Her whole body lay on top of your own. Her head is tucked into your neck. Her hand tangled in the hair on the side of your head. 

“I know you're awake.” She whispers, her breath tickling your neck. 

“You’re real.” You sigh out, opening your eyes and wrapping your arms around her back. Holding her tightly against you. Her body fits perfectly with your own.

“So are you.” She whispers again, not wanting to ruin the quietness that surrounds you both. 

“I’m sorry, I left, I just…”

“I know, I’m sorry too.” You move your body to lay on its side, Natasha's body falling beside you, trapping her between yourself and the back of the couch. You move your hand slowly to run through her hair, her breathing slow and gentle. She stares at you so intensely, and you can’t help but stare back. 

“You remembered me.” She whispers, moving closer despite the very little space between you both anyway, resting her forehead on yours. 

“I think I will always remember you, Natasha.” You breathe out, a small smile gracing her lips as she opens her eyes after taking a deep breath. 

You feel her head moving again, so slowly and subtly but you know her, even if it has been so many years, you know her. Her lips meet yours slowly, and your body starts to shiver from the action. 

The kiss is slow, but hard, every unspoken word flowing between you. 

“I will always love you, whether I am dead or missing, or simply just alive, I will always love and remember you, Natasha Romanoff, that will never change, I promise you that.” You whisper against her lips as you both pull away, a smirk now lying on her lips. She presses her lips against yours again, short and sweet just like her. 

“I will always love you too.”

You remembered her, and you always will. 

[sgm616]

Kathryn Hahn gets it.

[sgm616]

Masterlist

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Series:

Into the unknown: Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12. Part 13. Part 14. Last Part.

Unwanted: Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.  Part 7. Part 8.  Part 9. Part. 10. Part 11. Last Part.

One Shot:

Echoes of a Silent Heart (Angst)

To Stay, To Love (Angs, Fluff)

[sgm616]

me as a writer

[sgm616]

fic idea (sorry if this is bad, I'm using the translator because English is not my native language)

Wanda or Natasha (maybe both if you can) wanted to have a child with the reader, but then they got divorced and the reader was pregnant, the reader complained by calling saying that she was going to take Wanda/Nat to court for refusing to pay child support, until the reader decided to go to her house and got pregnant again.

Fool Me Once

Hi guys! I really liked this request, because I had been wanting to write something with divorced Nat. I hope that this does this justice. I feel bad for Wanda in this, so my next fic I am hoping to do something with wanda x nat. Please continue to send requests! And as usual I didn’t feel like proofreading it :(

(this is not my gif)

word count: 2.5k

paring: g!p beefy nat x divorced fem reader

warnings: natasha has a penis, infidelity, pretty angsty, arguing, foul language, cursing, name calling, smut, voyuerism, penetration, cunnilingus, (let me know if I missed anything!).

“Oh baby you are taking me so good, if you keep moving your hips like that I’m gonna blow. But I bet you want me to breed your tight hole. Is that right?”

”Yes please, Natasha I want to have your babies I need your seed so bad!”

4 years later…

 “Natasha, this is the last time I'm leaving you a message! I have tried to be civil but you leave me no choice! Not visiting your daughter for 5 months or paying any child support isn’t gonna cut it anymore. Since you refuse to care for your child I will see you in court!”, You said after hanging up the phone and frustratingly throwing it onto the couch.

The noise startled your 3 year old daughter and she came into the room to see what happened. “Mommy are you okay? Was that mama, is she coming back to us soon?”

”Yes everything is okay baby. It’s okay I miss mama too, we are gonna see her soon.” You said kneeling down to her eye level and plastering a fake smile on your face to reassure her. 

Two weeks later it was the day of the court hearing and the first time you had seen Natasha since you had found her with Wanda, 5 months ago.

When you first started dating Natasha, she insisted that you quit your job and become her housewife. Since she was a CEO of a multimillion dollar company there was really no need for you to work and considering you thought that she was going to be your forever you took her up on the offer. But now that you were a single mother with no support system and very little money for childcare, it was hard for you to keep a stable job and provide for your child. 

Natasha on the other hand was doing very good for herself. According to her facebook, that you definitely didn’t stalk, her and Wanda expecting a child together. How could she do this to you, I mean the divorce was yet to even be finalized. Her business was booming and she had bought a new house for her new girl and their child to be. 

“Mama! I missed you!”, Your daughter said escaping your arms to run into the arms of your ex lover.

Not wanting to soil your daughter’s opinion of her mother, you told her that she was on an important trip and she was too busy to talk on the phone. 

“Why hello there babygirl I missed you so much! You got so tall honey!”, She said while picking her up and twirling her around. 

“Mommy look mama is back, aren’t you so happy!”, Your daughter said beckoning you over to greet your ex.

“Hello, y/n you look well.”, She said with that godforsaken smirk. The same smirk that got you pregnant. You couldn’t lie she looked great in the pant suit she was wearing, you always loved her in her dominating attire. 

“Natasha”, You said with a curt head nod, “As do you.” 

“Come on baby, you can sit with my friend Wanda, while me and mommy go inside and have a long talk.” Natasha said before you seethingly saw her walk your child across the courthouse to the bench that Wanda was patiently sitting at. 

“After taking all of the information presented today into consideration, I have my verdict. I rule that the defendant, Mrs. Natasha Romanoff, is ordered to pay the plaintiff, Mrs. Y/N Romanoff, at least $600 a month and is required to have the child in her custody at least every other weekend starting today. This is a temporary verdict that will be re-examined for permanency when the divorce is finalized.

 “Okay honey, are you excited to have a sleepover with mama this weekend?”, Natasha said, holding your daughter in her arms.

 “Are we finally going back to our old house? Can I sleep in bed with you and mommy again?” Your daughter said excitedly, with eyes full of hope.

 “No baby for now on me and mama aren’t going to be living together anymore. You are gonna be with only one of us at a time, but it’s okay because we love you so much. We are gonna go home and pack you a bag so that I can drop you off with mama and her friend Wanda for the weekend later tonight.” 

Knock Knock Knock…

It was two hours later when you arrived at Natasha’s new house for the first time. Your daughter fell asleep in the car, so you carefully grabbed her and her stuff before walking up the driveway of the huge house and knocking on the door.

 “Hey y/n.”, Natasha said after opening up the door. She was wearing a white wife beater that showcased her broad shoulders and the pump in her biceps, indicated that she had just finished working out. You looked down and bit your lip when your eyes captured her built veiny quads in the shortest gym shorts you have ever seen in your life. 

“Here she’s sleeping, hopefully for another hour or so.”, You said while carefully handing her over. 

“Okay stay here for a second, i’ll take her and her stuff to her room, but I need to talk to you. You can sit over here.” She said pointing to the couch. 

You sat down wondering what she could possibly have to say to you after all the hurt she has caused you. 

“So where is your baby mama?”, You asked as she returned down the stairs.

”She is staying with her parents for the weekend. I didn’t want to confuse our daughter. But I wanted to ask you to take me back, baby please.”

”Not this again Natasha! How do you expect me to take you back when your girlfriend is 7 months pregnant, but we separated only 5 months ago!! You cheated on me! I try to do a nice thing and surprise you with dinner at your office and I walk in on you balls deep in that whore!” You exclaimed angrily. 

“Baby you are my wife, she doesn’t mean anything to me. I just want to make sure my child is okay, that is the only reason I keep her around. I promise.” She said reaching out and putting her hand on your thigh. 

“Then tell me why did you cheat on me, especially with Wanda from your office. I always told you she had a crush on you, but you waved me off. What does she have that I don’t?” 

“I don’t know, y/n I was craving some closeness. Things were different between us ever since you had the baby. We barely had sex and she was showing me all of this attention I just couldn’t resist. But I didn’t mean to get her pregnant. She told me she was on birth control and she ripped the condom off me, I think she was trying to baby trap me. I even offered to pay for her abortion when I found out she was pregnant, but she wouldn’t budge. Listen, I have to do what’s right for my baby, but I promise you things will be different if you take me back. I am done with her. I will pay for her to have an apartment, so my baby isn’t homeless and I want you and our daughter to move in here with me or we can move somewhere else, whatever you want baby.” At this point it seemed as though she was begging considering she found herself on her knees in front of you, looking up with her hands on her waist. 

“But why did you abandon our daughter, we called you everyday since the separation and you never picked up.” You said avoiding her eye contact.

 “I was so ashamed of myself, y/n. I couldn’t see you or hear your voice without reminding me of everything I lost. I didn’t want our daughter to think badly about me. Y/n I am so sorry and I can’t live without you, I need you to take me back.” She pleaded again on her knees.

 “Show me how much you really love me then.”, You said leaning down to whisper in the ear of the woman in front of you, before playing with in between your teeth. 

“Are you sure?”, She moaned looking up at you, watching you nod before standing up and grabbing you by the waist, hoisting you over her shoulder in the same motion, running up the stairs. 

“Wait, let's make sure she is still sleeping.”, You said, causing Natasha to stop and quietly open the door to check on your still sleeping daughter. 

“Okay all good let’s go.”, She said in a hurry, practically running down the hallway urging to soothe her hardened erection. Reaching her bedroom she threw you on the bed, face up. 

“Is this the bed you fuck her in?”, You asked with a playful smirk. 

“No baby. I promise we haven’t had sex since the time you caught us in my office. I couldn’t bring myself to fuck her again. But I am being honest when I say the few times we did it I was imagining she was you the whole time.”, She said while hovering over you and kissing your neck. 

“Right Natasha, you always know what the ladies want to hear.”, You said sarcastically, “just hurry up and fuck me before I change my mind.”

Natasha kissed your lips, sticking her tongue in your mouth while humping her bulge against your cunt. Pulling back for air she pulled off your shirt and undid your bra, eyes widening when she saw your huge, plump, and juicy tits. 

“Your tits have gotten so big ever since you have given birth.”, She said massaging them in her hands, slapping the nipple a few times before entering them into her hot mouth. Alternating each of them between her hand and her swirling tongue the pleasure was too much for you. This was the first time anyone had touched you in months since the separation.

 “Oh my god Natty. I have missed your mouth, you use it so well.”, You moaned, pushing her head downwards to where you needed it most. 

“I bet you’re about to love my mouth even more.”, she looked up with a smirk, pulling off your pants and discarding them across the room.

She kissed your clit through your panties, “You wore my favorite panties, it’s almost like you knew this was gonna happen.” she joked into your pussy.

Taking the panties off she smelled them, before putting them in the pocket of her pants. She spread your legs open and pushed them up against your body taking a deep sniff against your wetness moaning at the smell.

 “Still so wet for me baby, can’t wait to taste you.” Her flattened tongue swiftly licked from the bottom to the top, as she relished the taste. She continued her movements up and down before focusing slowly on the too long neglected clit. 

Sticking her tongue under the clit she began to flick, sending shivers down your spine. Your hands made their way to her head holding her hostage in between your thighs.

She ate you out with a renewed fervor like she had something to prove, which she most definitely did. She circled your clit rapidly, pulling out all the noises and juices she could from you. She next teasingly circled your oozing hole savoring the taste of your delicious excrement, before inserting her tongue back and forth expertly playing with your g-spot. 

After only a few minutes of her expert ministrations you couldn’t hold back anymore and you let go with a loud moan, squirting in her in the face you sprayed everywhere, violently shaking as you released your high. 

She licked her lips before removing her top and using it to wipe her face off. The bra went off with it. She moved up to face you again, before enveloping your lips in a kiss. Her tongue explored your mouth, before yours stopped it and sucked the taste of yourself off. 

Pulling back for air she exclaimed, “Your taste is indescribable, makes you incredibly irresistible. I can’t believe you left me without you for so long. I am so hard baby, I need you so bad.”  

“I’m aching so bad Natty, I want your cock.” With that she stood up and stepped out of her gym shorts, the bulge evident in her underwear. She quickly removed it and her gigantic cock sprung out hitting her in the stomach. Something you craved every night when you were alone in bed with your fingers between your thighs during the months you were apart.

She spit on her hand and collected the pre cum from the tip and rapidly spread it up and down her shaft. “Please natty, I've missed your cock so bad.” 

She pushed your legs wide open and fit herself in between them, carefully entering herself into your cunt. You wrapped your legs around her waist and she began with slow and gentle thrusts. 

“I have no self control when it comes to you. Your pussy feels so tight and warm milking my cock like this. Are you okay if I speed up.” She pulls her head up from out of your neck desperately begging to go faster.

Looking up you heard the door open, unbeknownst to Natasha who was caught up in the pleasure. Stood in the doorway was Wanda, Natasha’s girlfriend and baby mama, fuming at the sight. You smirked and decided to have some fun with this.

”Yes Natty please go faster. Is this the best pussy you’ve ever had? Tell me it feels way better than that whore you got knocked up.”

”Of course baby, her pussy does not compare to yours at all.”, She said while you glared up at the woman.

”Tell mommy how much you missed her and how that bitch means nothing to you.”

”Uggh yes mommy, daddy missed you so much that bitch is nothing I promise. I will call her and tell her that for her to hear”, She exclaimed through rapid uneven breaths, in between kissing all over your neck and face.

“It’s okay, no need for that.”, You said with a smug smirk.

Wanda angrily stormed out holding back tears. While you smiled and pulled Natasha in for an intimate kiss. “I love you, Natasha. I trust you, please don’t break it again.”

Natasha eagerly pulled back, shocked at your words, “I love you too so much y/n . I promise I will never do anything to hurt you ever again.” 

“I’m close natty, please.”, You held her tighter than you ever had and relished her thrusts.

”Don’t hold back, I'm right with you, baby.”, she said, her speech broken due to the approaching orgasm. Her cum spurted in a hot rush of liquid, hitting your g-spot directly causing your orgasm. 

“I don’t know if you’re on birth control or not, but it would be great for our daughter to have a sibling.”, She planted a kiss on your lips.

 “She is going to have a sibling, or did you already forget about your infidelity?”, You said with a roll of your eyes.

”Right…”, She said awkwardly, scratching her head. 

Comment down below if you guys would have taken her back or not!

[sgm616]

Fallen Demon

© thewidowsledger - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairings: Demon!Natasha Romanoff x Summoner!Female Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Tags | Warnings: ANGST, bullying, FLUFF happy ending please trust me, this is my 'I lied put your clothes back on' trend entry

Author's Note: I honestly didn't feel satisfied with the first one I wrote since it was a rush, and I felt like I didn't give justice to the request of 🍠 this was still a rush since I wrote it in a 6-hours bus ride👉👈 but it came out the way I wanted to be and I hope y'all will like it as well. The real reason I wrote this is because of Hozier's DIWK cover, fudge I need it tattooed with every fiber of my being!

Navigation | Masterlist | Part 1

⧗

"I had to, and you must say it."

"No, no, please I can't. I cannot."

"Princess, please," Natasha pleaded, desperation lacing her voice as she called out to you. She never kneeled before altars nor had prayed to Gods, but never had she felt this urge, this need to be understood, to be heard, by a mere human.

⧗

A deep, foreboding sigh escaped her lips as she stood before the ritual circle, the symbols of summoning etched into the floor.

"How foolish," she muttered to himself, "to bind oneself to such a malevolent force once more." Then, she turned around to see you, kneeling on the floor.

Her smirk faltered as she beheld your naked body stiffed on the cold stone floor, head bowed submissively. The portal pulsed with an eerie light, casting long shadows across your trembling silhouette. Her eyes narrowed, curiosity and concern warring in their obsidian depths.

"To…what do I owe the pleasure, princess?"

You slowly looked at her, the fire burning in her eyes was washed with the tears that you had in yours.

"C-can you say I'm beautiful?"

With a wry chuckle that seemed too old for her youthful visage, she stepped closer, her bare feet silent on the stone floor. "Princess, your request is as intriguing as it is foolish. Summoning a demon for mere sweet words? Truly, the lengths humans go to…"

You felt a strange warmth of shame spread through your chest as you bobbed your throat, you forced yourself not to let any tear slide down from your eyes.

Her powerful form seemed to shrink as she saw the memories in your eyes. The laughter, the whispers, the isolation. You being called names, you eating in a comfort cubicle and you crying for being locked inside it.

I hate myself.

She heard it, she heard your thoughts. Her eyebrows furrowed as she suddenly grasped the depth of your despair, your self-loathing thoughts echoing loudly in the silence between you. She clenched her jaw but it cracked, giving way to a softer expression.

Summoning a demon for a mere compliment, trading your body, having your soul sucked for words. It was indeed stupid. Desperate. Foolish. Absur—

"Stop those thoughts of yours, princess. They're too loud and not good for someone like you." Her voice had an unexpected caring tone that made you hitch your breath. "Dress yourself, I don't want you catching a cold."

She watched as you scrambled to gather the folded clothes, her supernatural grace contrasting sharply with your human clumsiness. Her observant gaze fell upon the bruises marring your skin and the gum stuck in your hair.

She really tried her hardest not to take you from there.

Her eyes roamed over your improved appearance, a glimmer of approval in her gaze. "Much better," she acknowledged with a nod. "I like the shirt but it is practically a dress on you. Are you auditioning for a role in a horror film?"

You let out a giggle and the sound was music to her ears. "It's all I got, everything's in the laundry." You spoke shyly, tucking a hair behind your ear.

Then, her gaze drifted around your small room, taking in the cramped space with a hint of disdain. "Your room is...cozy," she commented, her tone laced with sarcasm. "I've slept in closets larger than this."

You laughed again, hell, she would thank Jesus for that laugh.

"It's my apartment," you started, "the one you've been to before was my bestfriend's house which was miles away."

"The witch's house," she muttered and you nodded, her lip curling slightly as she remembered the eerie atmosphere of the place. "No wonder it felt...off whenever I was there. It reeked of herbs and spell components. Anyway, has she noticed anything unusual about her beloved houseplant yet?"

Well, the plant was still the same, and your bestfriend hasn't noticed anything when she came back, only your disheveled state and the eerie vibes she said your aura is giving during that day. And she, in fact, did a cleansing ritual on you while you were asleep, you were grateful to still woke up but choking with the smell of her cleansing stick candles and her muttering some gibberish witch prayers you god knows what.

"It's still okay, don't worry." You offered her a reassuring smile as you sat on your bed looking up at her huge form, she is literally having a hard time leaning down since height is much higher than your ceiling. "We can sit on the floor." You said, and then you moved to an indian sit form.

She then hesitantly copied your movements, her big legs folding between each other. "Don't be so sure about that, witches have really strong senses and intuition." She groaned as she finally sat across you, the ritual circle between you both.

"You're being bullied, aren't you?" The accusation hung heavy in the air.

Her gaze narrowed as she studied your face, taking in the faint bruises that are now hidden in your big shirt, the slight limp in your step, the way you always seemed to be on edge. And then a wad of gum stuck to your hair, a cruel prank meant to humiliate you.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back tears. Your head was ducked, hiding your face behind a curtain of hair as you stared at your crossed thighs. The silence was deafening, broken only by the soft sniffles you were trying desperately to suppress. You then slowly nodded and removed your eyeglasses to messily wipe your tears.

Your parents decided to send you abroad to study, and you were utterly culture shocked by the prevalence of bullying. You hadn't expected that the portrayal of bullying from the movie and series you watched in high school was actually reflecting reality. What's worse is you didn't see that it would happen to you. From being homeschooled to having to go abroad to study, it was the most difficult thing. You only had one friend, Wanda, and she is not here to comfort or protect you the way she did when you were just kids. Wanda had even told you to get the used tissue or get a strand of hair from your bullies and have it sent to her so she could handle the business, but you would just laugh at your witch friend during call with your swollen eyes and reassure her that you could handle it on your own and toughen up.

You are grown now and you told yourself that eventually you need to protect yourself from others, you cannot rely on your family or Wanda in your entire life. But the thought of standing up for yourself felt impossible. All you longed for was someone to step in and put an end to the torment, and you had no idea how to protect yourself from others when you were so worn down by it all.

"You could've asked me to return the favor to your bullies…" she spoke carefully but with a little bit of threat.

Now, you shook your head side by side. "Aren't you supposed to be enjoying this?" you asked, your voice trembling as tears welled up in your eyes. "I mean, you're a demon. Shouldn't you be relishing in my pain and suffering? You should be enjoying people doing cruelty to others. That's how you feed yourselves, with the sin of mankind."

"Princess," she sighed deeply, like she is disappointed but she is. "Is that why you were naked earlier? You ask something of me and I…take you in return so you just prepared yourself right away?"

Her gaze burned to you as well as the shame burning like a hot iron in your skin.

"It's not that I, as a demon, necessarily enjoy your pain and suffering for my own sake."

She took a moment to compose herself before continuing, carefully choosing her words to ensure you would understand. As she spoke, you drew your knees up inside the oversized shirt you were wearing, making yourself smaller and more vulnerable as you listened intently.

"You see," she began, her voice soft but firm, "I…I was born this way. I was born a demon, and my purpose is to be a punisher of those who have done wrong."

As soon as the words left her lips, she paused, studying your expression to see how you were processing what she had just said and to make sure you're not uncomfortable about it. Then, she continued, "I don't feed myself with sinful acts or relish in anyone's suffering, princess. Instead, I feed on those who have made…contracts with me. That's how I sustain myself. That doesn't mean I am delighted to do it."

"Hey," you crawled and sat right in front of her, your knees touching hers. "You may be a demon but you're not evil. I know that."

The demon's mouth was wide open as she stared at you in disbelief. Your words had struck a chord within her, leaving her stunned and speechless. She had never encountered a human who saw past her demonic nature, let alone voiced their belief aloud so confidently.

"Do I make you suffer?"

"What? No."

"No, when I come to visit you whenever for…for the contract. Do you feel pain whenever I…whenever I…take you?" The demon never stuttered not until this day.

You reached her face and caressed your thumb on her cheeks, "No." It was just one word but you hope it was enough to reassure the burning demon.

She doesn't take joy in sin. Especially not yours, she would punish herself for it. Her purpose is to punish those who commit it and feed herself with those who willingly and mistakenly entered into contracts with her by taking pieces of their souls. You were binded with her and she had come and taken you twelve times as you can remember. And now, you summoned her once again, making it more difficult for either of you to break the bound unless for one thing.

The demon couldn't deny it anymore, she had grown…attached to you, even though she tried to keep her emotions in check. She cannot help but notice how your laughter and hums had filled her with an unfamiliar sense of warmth. How you had clung to her after she had just ripped your innocence bit by bit and pounded a piece of your soul out of you, and after, you would still be asking when she would come back. That's why she would painfully leave as soon as your eyes had fluttered shut as you drifted off to sleep so she wouldn't have to deal with your questioning right after you wake up.

She had taken a piece of your innocence and soul, yet the purity and naivety in your eyes remained intact. This world is too brutal and cruel for someone as precious as you, and all she longed to do was shield you from its harshness.

But a demon couldn't. You are wrong, she was evil—she is evil—her very nature is inherently evil. She was consuming you bit by bit, feeding herself with your soul leaving you weak. She was the very threat she sought to safeguard you against.

She was never terrified of anything or any Gods, not until she thought how your laughter would not bring warmth the hell couldn't bring her. She was horrified at the idea of taking so much of your soul that your laughter would no longer bring the same joy and comfort.

She has to protect you from her, from consuming you more until there is nothing left from you.

She will not be the reason you will lose that light.

"My name's Natasha." The demon spoke after the long silence and staring.

You frowned and quickly rose to your feet, "No, no," Natasha watched you paced back and forth to your apartment. "Why did you tell me your name?!" You shouted, the tears are already falling down the ritual circle beneath you. "Why?!"

"I had to, and you must say it."

"No, no, please I can't. I cannot."

"Princess, please," Natasha pleaded, desperation lacing her voice as she called out to you. She never kneeled before altars nor had prayed to Gods, but never had she felt this urge, this need to be understood, to be heard, by a mere human.

"No! Fireball, that's your name! That's what we agreed upon on what I'll call you!" You shut your eyes in denial, that was the silly nickname you gave her since she didn't want to give her name when you first summoned her. At first you were determined to know it so you would break the contract, but as soon as her visitation became more frequent, that mission was long forgotten.

"Why?!" her demon voice thundered through the room, it was the first time you heard her voice like that again, and you swear you feel like the whole building felt it. "Every human I've ever bound would go to lengths just to know my name, just to break away from me!" She roared, her eyes blazing with demonic fire. "Why?! Wouldn't you say it?!"

"Because I love you, Natasha! I love you!"

Her eyes widening as she stared at you, the demonic fire in his eyes flickering in shock. She blinked, once, twice, trying to process the words that had just escaped your lips.

"I never liked my name not until I heard you say it." She spoke with a solemn smile.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized what you just did, you frantically dropped to your knees before her. "No!" you exclaimed, your voice breaking with desperation as you reached out to cup her face in your hands. "Please, I take it back! I take it back!" you pleaded, your heart aching with regret.

"Hey, it's okay." Natasha's hand moved to gently hold your right hand that is on her face. "But that's not how it works, princess."

Demons are said to be creatures of fire and brimstone, devoid of human emotions and incapable of shedding tears. But tears streamed down her burning eyes, their tracks visible on her smooth skin.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched her begin to glow, a faint, otherworldly light emanating from her form. You are helpless, unable to utter anything but the anguished plea of 'no's' as it left your lips on repeat.

"N-no…" Your body trembled, your tears streaming down your face as you shook your head sideways, then, you put the side of your head into her chest as if you're trying to hear her heartbeat, "No, please," you repeated once again, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't mean to say it. I can't lose you, please."

You want to be with her, even if the means is her consuming you inch by inch, even if you're going to feel every bits of it.

"Please, say my name one more time. I like hearing you say it." Holding back tears, you shook your head defiantly, burying your face against her chest. Slowly, you looked up into her eyes, a broken, tear-stained mess.

You would meet the ends of hell to be with her.

Tenderly, Natasha reached out to touch your face, her touch gentle and warm. Her fingers grazed your skin as she softly cupped your cheeks, her eyes locking onto yours. A small, bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she gently caressed your face with her thumb.

"I didn't know what I did for God to bring you to me. But I would thank Him profoundly," she whispered, her words quivering slightly. "For you are an angel sent from heaven, a beautiful, unexpected gift. One that is unworthy of a demon."

You would beg God to be with her.

Your lips quivered, you shook your head once more, slowly and deliberately, as if trying to reject the reality unfolding before your eyes.

"I've never been to heavens not until I met you, Natasha..."

"I love you, Y/N. Know that our love will bind us together, always. So long, princess."

The knock at your door jerked you out of your dazed state, suddenly jolting you back to reality. You blinked, bewildered and disoriented, trying to make sense of the jumble of confusing emotions and disjointed memories swirling in your mind and in front of you. You couldn't recall what had happened, why there was a ritual circle beneath where you were kneeling, or why you were a sobbing mess, repeating a name that was now lost in your tongue.

"Hey! Are you okay there?!"

⧗

The senior night was in full swing, students were dancing and having a great time. But there you were slumped in your chair. You just didn't have the energy to get up and dance.

Some of your classmates came to ask if you wanted to dance, but you politely turned them down. You watched as everyone else seemed to be having the time of their lives. You tugged at the fabric, trying to get it to sit right on your shoulders. You fidgeted with the lace trim around the neckline, running your fingers over the delicate design. The more you fiddled with it, the more you began to realize how uncomfortable the gown truly was.

As you were messing with your gown, a voice suddenly spoke up next to you. "Hey, did you hear about Tracy?" asked your classmate Darcy as she took the seat beside you. "The one that sticked a juicyfruit in your hair in 2nd year?"

You looked up at Darcy, a deep sigh escaping your lips, "Yeah, it's not exactly something I want to remember. Cutting my hair shorter than I wanted wasn't fun."

Then Darcy said with a grin, "Well? That bitch wasn't here at the party because someone shaved her hair off during a sorority sleepover."

Your eyes widened in shock as you turned your full attention to her. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. "You're kidding, right?" you asked in not wanting to believe it. "But she's the president."

Darcy nodded her head eagerly, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "It's true, eyebrows included too,' she said between laughs, clearly enjoying the shock on your face. "And, and, and remember Aris, the guy that sparred with you in gym class even though you told him you were just a yellow belt and he's a black belt? And you were almost sent to the hospital?"

"Yeah..?" Now that's a core memory of yours that you could only cringe when you remember it on a sunny day.

"Asshole lost his national tournament and he got injured for life after his sparring with the freshie transferee."

"Freshie transferee?" you dumbfoundedly asked.

"Yeah," Darcy nodded, trying to be demure once again after she just unleashed a not-so-very demure laugh. "So yeah…I'm just here to deliver that information, I feel like you have a right to since those fuckers did you wrong back then."

"Please have fun, Y/N, c'mon!" Darcy shouted as she was practically being dragged to the dancefloor by her date, Jimmy.

You sat frozen in your chair, your mouth hanging open in complete shock at what she had just revealed to you. Those two left a scar on you that is still healing up to this day, but still, after hearing what happened to them, you felt bad.

After a few moments, you shook your head, realizing that you needed to get out of there. The room was starting to feel stuffy and suffocating. You stood up from your chair and made your way toward the door, knowing that some fresh air would do you good.

The cool night air was refreshing as you stepped outside, and you took a deep breath, appreciating the moment of solitude.

But then a voice broke through the silence, "This party was a mess, huh?"

There was something about the voice that sounded oddly familiar to you. It was as if you had heard it before, but you couldn't quite place it. But still, you continued standing with your back to the stranger, not feeling the need to turn and address whoever they are. You simply minded your own business, enjoying your fresh air.

"I like your gown."

You were in the middle of rolling your eyes in annoyance, prepared to tell whoever was trying to talk to you to leave you alone. But as soon as you caught sight of the fiery haired girl wearing a suit, you felt intimidated and her face seemed incredibly familiar to you, and your initial reaction was to squint to try and place where you had seen her before.

"T-thanks," you replied, your cheeks burning up.

"Got a name?"

You managed to stammer out a response. "I uhm...it's Y/N," you said, feeling a bit self-conscious.

"Beautiful." She said before slowly walking towards you. "They call me freshie transferee which is so lame by the way."

"Wait…so you're—"

"My name's Natasha."

"Natasha…" you couldn't help but repeat her name softly, feeling a sense of familiarity in the way it rolled off your tongue. You swore to yourself, you have uttered the name before in so many ways.

Then, suddenly, her hand gently touched your face, causing you to snap back to reality. You locked eyes with her fiery gaze.

"You are as beautiful as the day I lost you."

[sgm616]

A Sleepy Start

main masterlist || yelena belova || requests

a/n: sorry i took a little hiatus🙈between the holidays and work i found myself a little bit burnt out, but im here with this spicy story for you and i hope you enjoy it! i’ve also been working on a holiday/winter story that i still plan to post to be on the lookout for that

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pairing: yelena belova x female reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ warnings: MINORS DNI (18+) smut- reader receiving & being a massive bottom, basically porn with no plot, dubcon, daddy kink, dirty talk, begging, fingering, cunnilingus, strap on, spanking, nipple play

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ description: yelena has been away on a mission for a couple days and you have found yourself crawling into bed late at night. when yelena returns, she finds it hard to wake you up and decides to wake you up in a new way

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ word count: 1.9k

You had never been a morning person. Never was and never would be. The only person that could possibly get you out of bed was Yelena. On this day in particular, not even she could pull you out of bed.

You had an exciting night out several hours prior and did not find yourself crawling into bed until the wee hours of the morning. Yelena had been gone on a mission for the past couple days so you assumed she wouldn’t be back for a while. You were surprisingly mistaken.

The sun was shining bright and hot along your bare back, an indication that it was late morning or early afternoon. You felt hands tugging at you, pulling you out of a deep sleep.

“Come on,” a voice whined. “Why won’t you get up!” You groaned in response and tried to turn over the opposite way.

“Pleaseee,” Yelena begged. “I haven’t seen you in forever… well more like two days but still.”

She tugged and pulled but you wouldn’t budge. The more she messed with you the more your body was revealed from under the sheets. Yelena intensely observed you laying on your stomach, taking in each detail such as your messy hair and sunlit skin.

An idea popped into Yelena's head that might get you out of bed, or at least to gain consciousness and join the world again.

“Y/n,” she said in a singing voice, “time to wake up.”

Yelena came down closer to your body and whispered in your ear. “Wake up or else I’m going to do it for you.”

You inhaled and exhaled deeply and sighed. You weren’t quite awake enough to move but you had gained enough consciousness to hear Yelena now. You were now more interested in where she was heading with this.

Yelena took her jacket off until she was left in a white tank top and pants. Gently she climbed on the bed and straddled your mid section.

She ran her short nails down your back, leaving red streaks in their place. The slight pain caused you to shift a little in your place. Definitely not enough to wake you up, so Yelena continued.

Her lips then made contact with your skin. She left several kisses up and down your spine, then traveled over to other soft places to call her own.

She latched onto a soft spot near your shoulder blade and sucked. She left dark purple and red spots all over your back. By this point, you were waking up. You started to feel the result of Yelena’s pleasure growing as you slowly woke up.

Despite all of Yelena’s efforts, you still did not budge. This wasn’t necessarily because you were asleep, this now turned into a game for you to see what all Yelena would do to you. There had always been a part of you that wanted to test out the water in this department and you felt like now was the perfect time.

You couldn’t tell her how desperately you wanted her because you wanted her to show how bad she wanted you. You loved when Yelena showed how much she needed every square inch of you. So, you decided to watch it play out.

Touching all over your skin did not seem to suit her just yet, so she decided to move to more sensitive parts of you to try and do the trick.

Yelena pulled down the sheet that was covering your hips and legs. You were in your usual position of slumber where you laid on your stomach with one of your legs bent to the side of you. This gave Yelena the perfect view of what she wanted most.

“Fuck,” she whispered under her breath. “I’ve missed you.”

She gripped onto your hips, squeezing them out of desperation. There was nothing more that she wanted to do than show you who you belonged to.

Yelena backed up on the bed and sat between your legs while observing your quiet frame. There was something so erotic about seeing you completely at her mercy, even if Yelena didn’t know you were enjoying every second of her touch.

“Your pretty pussy is so wet for me,” Yelena whispered before eagerly touching you where she wanted most.

She separated your folds like the pages of a book with her fingers, so gently taking in how wet she had already made you. Her fingers made quick work of circling your clit in a slow rhythm that made you silently beg for more.

All she wanted was for you to respond to her pleads of desire. The more that Yelena touched you the more aroused you become, moving your hips slightly as a form of relief.

Yelena smiled. “There’s my girl, good job.”

She kept going at the same pace. You knew Yelena well enough that this meant she was only beginning. If she had sped up then you knew that she just wanted to have all the fun with your pussy until you came however many times pleased her.

You moaned lazily and shifted in your position. “I know you’re waking up, sweet girl,” Yelena said. “I want you closer to me. I need to taste you.”

Yelena grabbed onto your hips firmly and pulled you up. You whined in protest as you were being moved.

“Don’t whine, you know you want it,” she said. “Let me play with you more baby.”

You were now propped up on your knees while your front section arched against the bed, leaving you in a doggy type position.

It didn’t take Yelena long to touch you again. Her hands were placed on your ass while her mouth latched onto your clit, causing you to whine.

“What is it? Is my girl starting to wake up?”

You were awake long ago and now you were enjoying everything that Yelena was doing. You hadn’t realized how much you missed her until your body reacted in such ways you didn’t know.

“Keep going baby, Daddy wants to hear you.”

Her tongue flattened out and ran up and down your cunt so perfectly. Just the thought of watching Yelena torture you was enough as it was.

You moaned long and desperately at her effect on you. You couldn’t help but move your hips for any kind of additional touch you could get.

“My poor needy girl,” Yelena tutted. “I see you moving your hips so good for me.”

You whined as Yelena moved her tongue around your pussy, exploring each part and savoring every taste. Her tongue poked at your entrance and you moved your hips back towards her abruptly.

You had waited around long enough, which is why you decided to finally speak up. “More,” you said, which was muffled by the bed.

“What was that?” she said. “I need you to be louder for me.”

“More,” you whined.

“You want more, sweet girl?”

“Please,” you begged, no longer caring if you were being desperate. All you wanted was more of her everywhere.

“I think I can do that for you… wait here, love.”

Yelena left the room for a couple minutes while you waited on the bed. You had turned your head towards the door so you could see her coming. When she came back, she had shed her pants in the process in exchange for the spandex harness with your favorite attachment waiting for you. Yelena’s short hair was messy and you could see her hardened nipples through her shirt, making you release a small string of profanities.

She came back just as she started; creeping over you with her mouth dragging down your spine while you readjusted to sit up on your elbows.

“Good morning,” Yelena whispered in your ear. “I hope I didn’t disturb you too much.”

“Not a bit,” you whispered back.

As Yelena nibbled back down on your back, you could feel her strap brushing occasionally against your pussy. Each time it made contact, you wanted to scream with pleasure but you held your tongue until it was appropriate. You didn’t want Yelena to have too much fun.

“You’re so fucking hot, you know that?” Yelena’s warm breath like fire against your skin. “I couldn’t wait to come home and fuck you like this. That's all I could think about.”

Yelena’s words of desire made yours grow exponentially, if that was even possible. Your hips practically exposed your own desire for Yelena, moving more every minute that she teased you.

“You’ve waited so good, angel. Do you want me?” she asked. All she wanted was to get a rise out of you, which was working.

“I want you so bad, please baby,” you begged. Though it was usually below you on regular occasion, begging seemed to fit in with your pathetic state at the moment.

Without another word, Yelena used your hips as a guide and slid her strap into you. It was a flood of arousal that greeted you now, eliciting a string of gasps and moans.

“Fuck, detka,” Yelena whined. You never understood how Yelena’s mother language turned you on so much.

Yelena’s hips moved against you, ricocheting your own hips back into hers. You were overcome by her touch as a result of all of the fun she was having.

“Please keep going,” you whined, moving your hips frantically to enhance your experience. As you moved them, Yelena’s hand spanked the side of your ass, causing you to wince.

“You let me do all the work, baby girl,” she said. “You just sit back and let me play with you.”

The bedroom now echoed of skin on skin contact and your horny pleads. Yelena knew how to bring out the best in you and the most lustful version of you.

Yelena’s hand traveled up your back and snaked to your chest where she leaned down far enough to take your nipple between her fingers. She rolled and pulled on your sensitive nipple which increased your high, arousal pooling around the strap buried deep inside you.

You were getting closer by the second and Yelena could tell. It was obvious in the way that your movements became more rigid and choppy, barely able to form fluid motion.

“Mm, does my poor girl want to cum?” Yelena taunted you and you nodded in reply, barely able to form a clear thought. “I can’t hear you.”

“Yes,” you managed to choke out. “Please, Lena. I wanna cum so bad, let me cum please.”

To finish you off, Yelena’s hand moved in between your legs while still moving her strap in and out of your pussy roughly. Her fingers made contact with your now swollen clit in order to make you unfold beneath her. It didn't take long between Yelena’s whispering orders to you, her relentless strap, and her fast pace fingers.

She had a hard time wanting to stop. She was having way too much fun having her way with you that she found herself stuck in a trance. Her fingers still on your perfect pussy made your body twitch and convulse. You finally pried her fingers away after taking all you could.

You fell into a heap on the bed, your body like jelly. Yelena kissed you more gently this time, almost as an apology for the overstimulation she might’ve caused, even if you loved every second.

“Are you alright?” Yelena asked. Your chest was rising and falling quickly as you tried to catch your breath, but you managed to slightly speak to Yelena with a giggle.

“I’m up.”

.

.

.

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[sgm616]

Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie celebrating Sebastian’s Golden Globes win! 😍🤞

[sgm616]

When Rio was left alone with Senor Scratchy

[sgm616]

Mistake

© thewidowsledger 2025 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairings: Professor!Natasha Romanoff x College Student!Female Reader

Word count: 4.2k

Tags | Warnings: +18 smut, ANGST, vile, mean, obsessive, hurt and dark Natasha, Natasha has a penis, top!Natasha, bottom!reader, hate fuck, crying but def not dacryphilia, kind of dubcon, noncon breeding

Author's Note: This is by far the darkest fic that was requested to me…I might be overreacting but I just a baby. I don't know how Latin honors works from others so I just referenced it to mine. Plot is kind of inspired with the song Teacher's Pet but it's the other way around. Request

Navigation | Masterlist

⧗

"What happened to us?" She asked again. The question hung in the air, demanding an answer that you know yourself wouldn't be willing to give.

Because you just want to forget it, forget it all—forget her.

⧗

"Isn't Y/N your rival since like 8th grade? You always hated the girl man! How come you're confessing your feelings to her on our graduation day?!" Rhodey groaned while rubbing his entire face as he talked to his best friend who just told his deep shocking secret.

"That's when I started loving her too." Tony simply replied.

You and Tony were actually schoolmates since grade school. And you have always been a top performing student ever since, while Tony only got to show his skills and intelligence not until high school—late bloomer as they say.

Who would imagine that the shy weird kid back in grade school would turn into a big massive fuckboy slash science freak in high school until college?

"So what's the plan, man?" Rhodey can only ask. He and Tony have been side by side since forever so there is no way he will not support him in getting to you. "Tony, as much as I want to support you in this…thing. You know your reputation. First, you are Y/N's acads rival, as long as there are numbers and letters and numbers and letters mixed together you are enemies and everybody knows that. Second, you have a reputation of sleeping with so many women. You know you didn't have your name cleared about the sleep night with the entire cheerleading team two years ago, in fact you didn't want your name cleared because you liked having that reputation."

"That was two years ago, I'm different now, at least I am trying too."

"I can't believe this. But honestly, I'd hit that." Rhodey smirked, showing your beach photo wearing a maxi skirt, a crochet top and the black glasses you always wore.

"Okay, enough of that! That's…that girl is mine, man. Please bro code." He snatched his friends' phone away from him and turned it off. Tony doesn't need to look at your photos anymore since he had memorized each photo of yours because he had been checking on your Instagram for at least twice a day.

"I was just joking! Of course I wouldn't." Rhodey chased his phone and was able to get it before Tony put it in his pocket. "So what's the plan? How will you…you know?" He shrugged while looking intently at his friend.

"Don't worry, I'm never running out of plans and pick up lines." He let out a laugh while also flexing his biceps

"Hey, hey! Friendly advice man? Just cut with your bad pick up lines and be a man. You just told me she's the girl you want to marry and she looks like the type who wouldn't fall for jokes or pick up lines. This isn't any rom coms, if you want her to fall in love with you, compliment and admire her mind—her intelligence."

"O…kay…where did that come from? That was a good one, Rhodey. I never thought I would hear that from you." Tony tried not to laugh his ass off, but the words of wisdom his friend just told him was something he needed.

Rhodey just shrugged, a genuine smile on his face showing as he looked at his friend. "I've always had it in me, Tony. It's just you never asked for some advice. Besides, you're different and so am I. And now, seeing you genuinely in love with this girl? I just know you need some unsolicited advice from mister lover boy right here."

"Hey, I'm a mister lover boy too." Tony pouted.

"You can be. But first, we have 8 minutes to get to Mr. Coulson's class."

The two sprinted out of the cafeteria, not even noticing Professor Romanoff sitting in the corner, her nails grazing hard against her own coffee mug.

⧗

"You're not gonna run for Latin?" You asked Tony, you were frustrated, you expected him to be your rival up until the end but when you knew you were the only one who filed for latin honors in your class, you were infuriated. You should be thankful, really, because you have no more competition but…

"I had 2.75 in molecular dynamics in 3rd year, if you didn't know. So basically, I'm not eligible to run for latin since then." You huffed at his reply, you don't know if it's out of disbelief or relief because he had that grade that made him not qualified for latin anymore.

"Did you purposely fail that class?" You asked him suspiciously. "Because I don't want to have this honor if you just basically gave it away. Like what you did in our elemag quiz bee during 10th grade, you said I only won because you basically let me, because you were just forced to join."

Tony pinched his nose, trying to hold a giggle. You are so cute, he thought to himself. Always so competitive and he loved every bit of it.

"I sucked at the subject, I promise, princess." He replied sincerely, not teasingly and provoking like he always was when he talks to you. Like when he tells you to calm yourself down before you internalize everything you had reviewed for a quiz bee, because it's just him you're gonna have to contend in some stupid quizzes.

You hated the man, but he's like a part of your system. You wouldn't function without him infuriating you—without him always competing with you.

"So…congratulations, summa cum laude." You were shocked at his words and genuineness but you didn't let him notice. For once, he didn't annoy you—for once—he's not your rival.

Before Tony could hand you the bouquet of tulips he was holding, a student suddenly rushed up to you.

"Hey, Y/N," the student said, her cheeks blushing as her eyes darted between you and Tony. "Professor Romanoff is asking for you in her office."

Hiding the tulips behind his back, Tony feigned nonchalance while you fought back your irritation. You couldn't believe it—even after all this time, he still had an effect on the women in your school. Unknown to you, the student had glimpsed the flowers he was secretly holding in his hands where she thought were for you.

"R-right now?" You stammered and the student nodded before bidding goodbye to the both of you.

"Are you alright?" Tony asked, noticing you turned pale.

As Tony asked you if you were okay, you found yourself blurting out, "Can you come with me?" You immediately regretted your words, silently cursing yourself for asking for help from the one person you loathed the most.

Despite the tension between the two of you, Tony agreed to accompany you to Professor Romanoff's office. As you walked, he fidgeted awkwardly, still holding the bouquet of flowers behind his back. Whenever you stole a glance in his direction, he'd turn away, so you wouldn't notice the bouquet peeking behind him.

The walk was filled with an uncomfortable silence, neither of you uttering a single word until you reached the professor's office.

Tony was about to reach for the door handle to Professor Romanoff's office, you quickly stopped him, passing him your bag. He shot you a questioning look, his eyes filled with concern as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You just gave him a small nod. He took your bag without protest and offered a reassuring nod in return.

"I'll wait for you here," he said, awkwardly holding your tote bag and wiggling his fingers as you go inside. His other arm was tired from having to hold the bouquet behind his back.

He could give it to you after, he thought.

⧗

You closed the door, but you deliberately left it unlocked. After a moment, Professor Romanoff emerged from the bathroom, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on you.

"Professor." You said, your head bowed in submission. Despite your fear and trepidation, you couldn't bring yourself to meet her gaze, keeping your eyes on your shoes as you struggled to maintain your composure.

She walked towards you, your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt a cold sweat breaking out on your forehead. Your lips trembled, and your shoulders tensed up as if preparing yourself for the worst. Your shoulders grazed onto each other as she locked the door behind you, trapping you inside with her.

"Is the pictorial done for graduation?" She asked, it came out soft but cold.

You took a deep breath, gathering what little ounce of courage you had left and managed to stammer out, "Yes."

Professor Romanoff's eyes traveled down your body, scrutinizing your outfit. You were wearing a skirt that teetered on the edge of being too short, paired with a fitted white top and a cardigan. You fidgeted under her intense scrutiny, feeling exposed and vulnerable under her stare.

"May I ask why I was being called, professor?" You asked, you bit your lip after for trembling too much.

"You're the only candidate for the Latin honors in our program. I talked to Professor Coulson and others in the faculty, and all of them said that your position is already secured for it not to drop below a 2," she stated. "Many professors are rooting for you to deliver your speech in 5 months."

And you? You desperately want to ask but you hold yourself back, keeping the question locked inside your mind. You wanted to speak less to her as much as possible, so you just nodded.

The room was filled with silence for several minutes, and you just stood there while she was still sitting in her office chair.

"I missed you."

Your heart literally dropped. The last time you had heard those words from her was two years ago, when you both had been caught up in a dirty secret affair.

"Didn't you miss me too? Detka? " You begged in your mind for her to not to call you those russian pet names again, well, it's one of your weaknesses still after so long.

You shook your head side to side in denial and screwed your eyes shut, as if trying to block out the words and the memories they stirred up. The mere thought of admitting to missing her was too much for you to handle—because you did, you missed her so much and you hated yourself for it. So every time your heart flutters when you see her along the hallways, you move to a different direction just to avoid her or if your mind starts to think about her, you immerse yourself in studying which most of the time failed to work.

You tried to be strong and you think you're doing good at it. You told yourself as long as you're not going to be alone with her again, you'd be fine.

And you are definitely not fine right now...

"After you came back from your immersion program, you didn't talk to me anymore..." Her voice was dark and tinged with hurt that had festered over the time you had spent away.

"What happened to us?" She asked again. The question hung in the air, demanding an answer that you know yourself wouldn't be willing to give.

Because you just want to forget it, forget it all—forget her.

Her words echoed in the air, a single tear slipped down your cheek, your breath growing more labored with each passing second. You couldn't bring yourself to answer her, your throat tight and your body trembling.

"Did you even lo—"

You didn't let her finish, you don't want her to ask you that question because you're afraid about the answer that you had kept hidden, locked in the deep, dark corner of your heart. "What I felt for you was…genuine."

What a nice way to put it.

"Genuine?" She huffed, she could take that one for now, Natasha thought. "If it's genuine then why am I a secret?"

"It was a mistake!" You rushed out before you could even blink. What would people think if they knew? That the top student in the university only got her achievements because she was basically a professor's cock sleeve?

"Nat—Professor…what…what happened before was a mistake. I told you that, right? And you know it too! We talked about it after I went to my immersion, that we'll stop. God, please, you know how wrong it was!" You cried desperately, it's not loud but it's enough for her to hear.

"Mistake?" she snapped and you can see the hurt in her eyes. "The bar, yes. That could be a mistake."

You cleared your throat awkwardly, memories of that night suddenly flooding your mind. The way the two of you danced, the way she laughed, how her lips tasted like whiskey...and then, the realization that hit you both when you're both sobered up. That was the night you slept with her, so much for being drunk you didn't realize it was your professor—the professor you had a crush on.

"What about here?" She pointed to her desk, where she had pounded you for dear life after class because you had joked to her that if you get a perfect quiz then you'll have a reward from her—and you did, she had made you cum twice for the recitation and quiz she had prepared for class, specifically for you. "And there?" You looked towards her sofa, where a lot of things happened between you two. You sucking her when she gets so frustrated during a meeting, riding her if she's too tired from paperworks—all the dirtiest kinks were done on that sofa. Even the softest ones where you both cuddled up after you didn't win the regional college quiz bowl or when you straddled her while teaching her how to tie a necktie.

"Motels, my car, my apartment, here again in my office during prom where you begged me to fuck your ass while wearing your prom queen crown." Her voice grew darker, matching the intense memories playing out in her mind. "Tell me baby, were those a mistake too? It would really hurt my feelings if you said yes."

You sobbed, shaking your head side by side, trying to dispel the memories and she can see the fear and denial in your eyes. You can just walk right now and end this torturous reminiscing. But you felt trapped in place, trapped in those memories, and she was too—she was trapped in the need to make you remember…

"Please, stop." You hiccup, trying to hold back a sob. You continue to shake your head over and over.

"You can't just go around, fuck me up and then say that's it's just a mistake afterwards." She spat, standing to walk towards you.

She loomed over you, her tall frame casting a shadow, making you feel small and vulnerable. She could see you shaking, hear your ragged breathing and it only fueled her frustration.

"Bent over my desk with that perfect little ass in the air, waiting..." She moved closer, her hand reaching out to trace your collarbone.

She watched you scramble to your feet, a dark satisfaction gleaming in her eyes as you approached her desk. She followed close behind, her heels clicking on the floor. When you reached the desk, she pressed a firm hand between your shoulder blades, bending you over it.

As she bent you over, you let out a soft moan, your face pressed against the cool surface of the desk. She could see your body relax, falling into the familiar position. Her hand slowly inched up your skirt, feeling the soft fabric bunch under her fingers. "You still remember, don't you?"

She stepped closer, pressing her length against your backside, feeling the thin barrier of her pants between you two. You found yourself grinding back against her feeling she was growing harder.

"Fuck you're still such a slut for my cock." She smirked as she gripped your waist. "Is it still a mistake? Huh? Slut? You grinding your slutty pussy back against my cock?"

You shook your head side by side, biting your lip to contain your moans.

"I need you to say it, slut." She spat.

"N-no, it's…it's not a mistake, professor." You said in a shaky tone.

Without warning, she reached down and unzipped her pants, pulling out her thick, hard cock. She wrapped her hand around it, stroking it slowly behind your back, the tip rubbing against your ass through your panties. "Fuck, I've missed this," she pressed the head of her cock against your ass, rubbing it against your panties. "Gonna fuck this tight little pussy again, just like old times."

She pushed aside your panties, revealing your vulnerable entrance, "Missed how perfectly you take me..." In one smooth motion, she thrust forward, burying herself deep inside you.

"N-nat!" Your back arched even further as you cried out a breath.

"I missed you calling me by my name." She said in a ragged breath, "I want you to shout it so Stark can hear it behind those doors." Her other hand reached around to grab your hair, tangling it in her fist as she pulled your head back, forcing you to arch your back further and to look at the door of her office where Tony was waiting. You didn't know how she knew Tony was waiting outside for you.

Your voice only seemed to spur her on. She began pounding into you, the rhythm steady and intense. She pulled out slightly, just the tip still inside you, before slamming back in with renewed ferocity. "You made me struggle, everyday, seeing you walk around in those fucking skimpy clothes...and letting anyone touch you, but not me." Each word was punctuated by a brutal thrust. "I didn't reach you because I respect you so much, love you so fucking much. And I know you will run back to me eventually…"

"But you didn't…fuck, you didn't come back to me. Am I…am I that easy? Y/N?" She asked with so much vulnerability and hate. "Do you know how hard it is to watch you go on for a day without me? When I couldn't?"

You felt some hot liquid dripping down onto your bare back, your clothes being bunched up…are those tears? You are too dumbed down to think but you noticed how Natasha held back a sob, covering up trying to sound cold and resentful towards you.

"Natasha…" you called out to her, you wanted to hold her against you but she snapped forward continuously and sloppily, hitting a spot inside you that made you whimper. "F-fuck!" You cried, it was loud and that made you cover up your own mouth.

Her climax hit and she buried herself to the hilt inside you, holding perfectly still as she rode out her orgasm. Waves of her hot cum filled your pussy, coating your insides, but she didn't say a word, she didn't tell you or even warn you. She just stayed frozen, her body shaking with the intensity of her release.

She gazed down, biting her trembling lip as she observed her cock, slick with both your arousal and her release, still buried deep inside you. A shudder ran through her as she felt the last drops of cum seep out on the tip of her shaft. Slowly pulling out, she couldn't help but moan softly at the erotic sight of her thick cum slowly oozing out of your well-used pussy. You innocently wiggle your ass as you move and it only intensified the lewd display.

You stood all by yourself and she calmly situated herself back into her leather office chair, cleaning herself up, refusing to look at your trembling form.

"N-nat?" You called, a tear running down your cheeks. You saw her reddened eyes and flushed cheeks—you were right—she was crying, but so are you. You slowly backed away, frantically tugging at your disheveled clothes, you could feel her cum still dripping slowly into your panties.

"Nat? Can we talk?" You tried again, you didn't like the feeling of this. You felt used.

"You can go now." She said flatly, her voice devoid of any emotion.

You walked towards the door, desperation etched on your face, hoping for some kind word, any sign of affection. You hated yourself for expecting some that you wanted to slap yourself. You frantically swiped at your wet cheeks, trying your best not to break down in front of her. But no matter how hard you rubbed, more tears spilled out. You couldn't catch a break, each blink bringing forth a new wave of salty drops.

And her? She just sat there, staring at her computer screen, her expression cold and heartless as if nothing happened.

She has done her plan for you anyways. So there is nothing to talk about anymore, the last thing on her list is you running back to her.

As you rushed your way out, you saw your bag on the chair with a bouquet of flowers. "Hey, Y/N. This is for you, I had to leave for the chess team. I really hate doing this but I'd like you to be my date on senior night. —T.S."

You could only huff, your brows pinching together to hold the tears that are threatening to fall again. But you weren't able to help it, you ended up having a break down outside her office, with the flowers on your arm and the evidence of what she did to you still oozing inside of you.

⧗

"Ladies and gentlemen, faculty, family, friends..." Your voice cracked slightly, betraying your nerves, but you steadied yourself, refusing to let the ghosts of the past dictate this moment. "We've worked tirelessly, overcome obstacles, and in some cases, experienced pain both personal and academic."

You glanced down at your notes, a faint smile playing on your lips as you continued. "I'd like to thank my family and friends for their unwavering support, my blockmates for turning sleepless nights into unforgettable memories, and lastly, I want to express my deepest gratitude to the professors who have molded us into the graduates we are today."

As you scanned the audience, your gaze landed on Professor Romanoff, who sat upright, her expression unreadable. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you. With a deep breath, you concluded your speech. "Thank you, and congratulations to the class of 2025!"

The graduation ceremony drew to a close, and the air was filled with joyous cheers and the clicking of cameras. As you mingled with your fellow graduates, collecting well-wishes and hugs, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. It seemed like everyone was drawn to you—your classmates, their families, even some of the professors. You were the center of attention, the summa cum laude, the valedictorian.

As you made your way through the crowd, congratulations ringing in your ears, a different sort of tension gripped you. You shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the growing pressure and the whispers that began to rise around you. Your swelling stomach was becoming more prominent by the second, stretching the fabric of your gown. You caught a few raised eyebrows and exchanged looks of confusion among your peers, their eyes glued to you.

The whispers grew louder, more urgent, as realization dawned on everyone. The batch valedictorian delivered her speech with a baby bump that had been concealed beneath flowing gowns and baggy clothes all semester, but now...there was no hiding it. Exactly four months along, your secret was suddenly the most spoken topic at this joyous event.

Tony stood near enough to be seen by you, a bouquet of roses hiding behind his back. He had been about to confess his feelings, to tell you that your intellect and beauty had captivated him all these years you had been rivals. But now, as he noticed the unmistakable curve of your belly…you noticed how he stepped back. His perfectly prepared speech shattered in his mind.

He walked away from you as if he was disappointed in you. At the same time you could feel the shift in the atmosphere, not just from him but the disappointment radiating off the crowd like a physical force.

You tried to smile to those around you to mask the dam that is going to break soon, but you still held your chin up with the little courage and confidence you had left in you.

"Mama, I'll just talk to someone. I'll meet you in the car." Your mother has been very supportive of you, yes, she scolded you when she got the news that you were pregnant. She always looked up and expected more from you, but still, she accepted and took care of you.

With a deep breath, you marched down the corridor towards her office. There were no people around and that's when it suddenly hit you. Tears started rushing down your cheek as your heels clicked urgently against the polished floor even though your OB gyne told you to stop wearing elevated shoes, you wiped them away frantically because you don't want to face her feeling vulnerable like this. The determination etched on your face chased away any lingering doubts. You were going to face this head-on, consequences be damned.

As you pushed open the door, she glanced up from her desk, surprise momentarily flashing across her features before smoothing into a smirk.

She leaned back in her leather chair, folding her hands atop the polished wood. "Y/N, to what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

"Natasha…" you stepped forward, your hand traveling down your stomach. Your built up mask breaking, feeling vulnerable and exposed in front of her. You held back your tears, shaming yourself. "I have never been with anyone but you. I'm pregnant…I—I think you got me—"

She got your message, of course she did. Because this is exactly how she planned it to be, her claiming you in a way you didn't expect, you running back to her all vulnerable, and her turn saying…

"It was a mistake."

[sgm616]

To all of the people making jokes about Aubrey Plaza and her husband. what the fuck. this woman has been a widow for a DAY. yet people won’t stop making jokes that she killed him, that she’s finally single.

they were married for four years, 2021-2025.

together 14 years.

they got a backyard wedding in tye dye clothes, in an hour.

they had plans of having a baby but held off.

she loved this man and yet you fucking incels can’t leave her alone. She can go out of the public’s eye for five days to five years and doesn’t have to tell us anything.

grief is weird.

i can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a husband. a friend. a lover.

i know condolences can’t fix the issue, especially with my own personal passing. but i’m sorry is the only thing we should be giving her. not stress about her at the golden globes.

[sgm616]

Someone Familiar

Natasha Romanoff x Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 7.6K

.

Being able to build a family with the person you loved was a privilege. You knew that for Natasha, it was also a miracle.

Natasha did not believe in luck, only the absence of it. You could understand why good things made her nervous. You saw the effects of her childhood, of her entire life, every day.

Your relationship had clashed with Natasha’s understanding of the world. She’d told you, on your second date, that love was for children. Her brow had knitted in confusion when that had made you kiss her harder.

Natasha saw herself as fundamentally lacking because of her past. Natasha radiated steady love and then wondered why you trusted her.

You knew it was tied to the graduation ceremony that she’d been subjected to in the Red Room. It had taken years for her to believe in your relationship, in the simple success of it.

In a way, you understood her hesitance. There were too many pieces that had fallen into place. Too many hurdles cleared at the last second. 

Together, you had already built something better than Natasha had ever hoped for. Then, one day, you asked her to build something new together.

.

You took the positive pregnancy test when Natasha was on a mission. You’d been trying for several months already. 

Each negative test had stung more than either of you knew how to process. Everytime, your heart would sink heavily and you’d try to smooth out your expression. You’d meet Natasha’s wide-eyed stare and watch a raw anxiety wash over her. You hated that look more than anything. Natasha had held your hand and taken a leap of faith with you. With every negative test you felt like you were letting her down, asking her to have hope when there was no guarantee. 

There was always an awful kind of silence after a negative result. Hearing Natasha’s shallow breaths echoing in the tiled bathroom. You’d bring your arms around her slowly, only tightening your hold as she folded into your arms. You’d wrap yourself around her softly, like a blanket, making your own heavy disappointment lighter so that you could carry some of hers.

‘It’s only negative this month.’ You would remind her carefully, repeating words you weren’t sure that you believed. After a moment, Natasha would kiss your cheek and you’d know by the way she avoided your lips that it was meant as an apology. Natasha was always apologising for what she couldn’t give you. 

Natasha didn’t chase happiness, because she didn’t know how to have it. 

.

When she first met you, every moment together felt a little frantic. She held your hand on unofficial dates and you watched her unsurely, waiting for her to change her mind. Kisses felt unintentional, hurried but passionate as if neither of you could help it any longer. 

You couldn’t decide who this woman was, why the pieces of her didn’t quite fit together. You wondered when Natasha was ever just herself.

Initially, you only saw it in glimpses. But, Natasha shone through the smallest of cracks.

At night you faced each other in the bed, restfully watching each other in the silence. There was an electric kind of comfort in the space between you. It was those silent moments, in between heartbeats and shallow breaths, that made you certain of Natasha. That you fit together in a perfect way. 

Natasha would lift her hand hesitantly and run her fingers over your skin. She drew light patterns that never seemed to end. You watched her marvel at the fact you were still in her bed. That you weren’t leaving. That you thought you could be whole with her. 

For you, pregnancy was a dream worth chasing. A future that you could build with the person you loved. For Natasha, making a family was soaked in her own failing. The way she saw herself was unfair, it was untrue. Still, the feeling lingered.

It was past midnight when you took the positive pregnancy test. You’d had an inexplicable feeling and you’d been correct.

You smiled at yourself in the bathroom mirror. You barely recognised the person you saw, the giddy excitement reflected in your eyes. Natasha wasn’t there, but you heard your own hitched breaths echoing in the room and felt your joy double on her behalf.

.

You made no plan for how to tell Natasha. You knew the news would be surprise enough. 

In the end, you didn’t even have to say the words.

Natasha walked through the front door around midday. A scheduled mission had overrun and she’d come home straight from the formal debriefing. You were leaning awkwardly against the back of the sofa, perched in anticipation as soon as you heard her car pull into the drive. 

Subtle tension left Natasha’s face when she entered her home. Her smile widened in pleasure at the sight of you. Your returning one was soft and careful.

Natasha scanned your expression casually as she walked towards you. There was a second of normalcy where you met her unsuspecting smile. Your rapid heartbeat thudded in your own ears. Her scan of your face faltered and Natasha’s breath caught in her throat. Your smile widened as her eyes searched yours more closely. Your head dipped briefly in confirmation.

Natasha exhaled all at once, as if she’d finally been allowed to breathe. She dropped suddenly to her knees, a few feet from you. Her hand touched her own waist, bracing as the shock rolled through her. Her mouth stayed open but no air reentered her lungs.

You moved forward instinctively and your hand touched her shoulder. Natasha’s eventual inhale was long and ragged. Her hand brushed the back of your leg. You’d become adept at reading the muted signals of Natasha’s emotions. For the first time, there was nothing subtle in her expression of surprise.

Your hand moved to brush the top of her head, trying to ground her in the reality of the good news. Natasha looked up at you and her eyes had the same sparkle that you’d seen in your own in the bathroom mirror. You grinned familiarly. 

Now that Natasha knew, the reality was settling with you too.

Her hands slid hesitantly under the front of your shirt. Her fingers grazed your stomach reverently. The warmth of her touch settled your jittering nerves for a moment. She started drawing light patterns across your skin and her lips pressed against your midriff. You loved her completely.

Natasha’s hands continued to trail up your sides as she returned slowly to her feet. Now, her fingers touched your face. She looked at you like you might not be real. You could feel the tremor in her touch.

‘Are you sure?’ She asked you suddenly, fingers stilling against your cheeks. You smiled even wider. You nodded again. 

‘We’re having a baby.’ You said simply. The words sounded too much like fantasy. You took her hand and led her to the bathroom, to show her the test that had confirmed every impossible hope.

.

Natasha moved into a new kind of overdrive from that day forward. Nine months stretched before you like a precarious blessing. 

Natasha gravitated around you whenever she could. The casual hand around your waist became a constant when you were together. There was a redheaded shadow for every mundane errand. It was flattering and a little unnerving to have such unadulterated attention. 

Still, you saw the lingering carefulness in the way Natasha looked at you. The insecurities that led her to seek out reasons to touch you. It was fear that made her throat close up when you wondered aloud about baby names.

.

You were sure that Natasha was waiting anxiously for the bump to appear. 

One morning, you caught her lingering, arms folded as she leaned against the bedroom wall. You were half naked, removing your pyjama top, when you noticed her interested gaze. You smirked as you turned around, lifting your clean shirt from the bed.

‘You can see your baby whenever you want.’ You reminded Natasha lightly, filling with a gentle kind of love for her. You held your smirk, waiting to see hers in return. 

Your heartbeat stumbled when she glanced back at you with a hesitant incredulity. You placed the shirt back on the bed and reached out to Natasha instead. Natasha moved closer, her eyes watching your bare stomach nervously.

You ignored the way her stare made you feel like a stranger. She was always familiar to you.

Slowly, you pressed her hand softly against your stomach. Natasha knew your body well enough to recognise the slight change that couldn’t yet be seen. Her other hand moved to mirror the first. You felt her warm palms slide hesitantly along your bare skin. Your breath hitched and Natasha blinked in surprise at the effect of her touch. You watched her expression change as she felt the first proof that the baby was there. Her eyes flitted up to meet yours and you recognised what you saw there. 

Natasha loved the baby already. You wanted to tell her that you understood, that you felt the same.

Your throat closed up when Natasha’s lips found your collarbone. 

Suddenly, she was whispering hurried ‘Thank yous” against your skin. You moaned at the brush of her lips, though her words didn’t sit well with you. You wondered if Natasha understood how much the baby was already hers to love.

.

Natasha would have walked through fire with you. Still, you hated having to make her watch your morning sickness unfold. The waves of nausea found you in sudden onslaughts throughout the day. 

You tried to push through it, ignoring Natasha’s clenched jaw as she watched you gingerly pick at your food.

Every time you ended up running to the bathroom, Natasha insisted on sitting with you on the miserable cold tiles. Her hand rubbed familiar circles along the small of your back. Her touch was filled with concern, but it still soothed you. Natasha always brought you balance.

As the weeks went on, you found yourself crying at every mealtime. The morning sickness refused to lessen and a new sort of uselessness flooded you whenever you couldn’t keep a meal down. Each time, Natasha wiped your tears silently before she cleared away barely touched dishes. You watched her move through the kitchen, her eyes closing for long moments as she fought her own frustrated tears.

You could feel Natasha’s misery at being unable to fix it for you.

The feeling of failure only highlighted your wife’s resilience. 

Natasha tried every non-threatening food she could think of. She returned from grocery shopping with bags filled with the blandest foods imaginable. 

Nothing worked. 

You tried to hydrate as much as possible, tried to frame whatever food you did keep down as a positive. Still, you knew Natasha was starting to internalise your continued sickness as part of her own incapability.

Everything that she cooked or scoured from the shelves at the grocery store was rejected emphatically by the baby.

.

At last, your body finally granted you reprieve, just as the doctor had assured Natasha on several occasions. 

You woke from an afternoon nap, indulging in the lazy weekend feeling of being at home with your wife. Selfishly, you loved being sure of Natasha’s proximity in the house. You wondered absentmindedly if Maria had had a heart attack when Natasha announced she was going to take all her unused time off, effective immediately.  

You wandered sleepily through to the kitchen and over to Natasha. She was sitting with her back to you at the counter, scrolling on her laptop.

You rested your chin on her shoulder, snaking your arms around her back and letting out a satisfied sigh. Natasha let out an answering huff of laughter, leaning back slightly into your hold. There was a small jar of caviar open on the table. You knew she was sneaking it whenever she thought you wouldn’t have to see it. Your nose still scrunched at the thought of consuming something so fishy.

‘I want Mac n Cheese.’ You mumbled unthinkingly as a yawn overtook you suddenly. 

Natasha stiffened in her chair and she turned to face you. 

Her hand touched your chest, tilting back slightly so she could better assess your yawning expression.

‘Really?’ She asked you carefully. ‘You’re hungry?’

You smiled suddenly with the realisation that you were finally feeling able to eat.

‘All I want is Mac ‘n Cheese.’ You confirmed readily. Natasha got to her feet instantly. She looked at you for a moment and you revelled in the fondness of her attention. Her hands squeezed your shoulders in obvious satisfaction.

‘I have to run to the store.’ She rushed out hurriedly, kissing your lips briefly but emphatically. 

Natasha’s love felt like a hot shower, encompassing and addictive. You watched her fly through the house, grabbing her keys and wallet. Her enthusiasm for you caught like a lump in your throat. You fought tears as you gave her a half wave, matching her wide grin as she glanced back before heading out the door.

.

Natasha’s mac and cheese tasted like heaven. As you helped yourself to a third helping, you began to feel sure that this was also your first craving.

Natasha had barely eaten any herself, continually putting her fork down as she watched you moan with delight with each bite. You grinned unashamedly, too blissed out from the relief of keeping the food down and the deliciousness of the meal itself.

‘How have we never eaten this before?’ You asked Natasha dramatically. Her answering smile was soft. 

‘I had it a lot as a kid.’ She answered succinctly. Your surprise was evident, her reply was not what you’d expected. You tried to comprehend the Red Room ever providing Western classic dishes.

Natasha’s head shook in anticipation of your confusion.

‘I spent a few years in Ohio.’ She told you, a tightness in her voice as she forced a casual stab at some pasta with her fork. ‘It was an early mission.’

You stayed silent, knowing far more was omitted than what had been shared. Natasha stabbed another piece of pasta and you reached out automatically to touch her arm. Natasha glanced back at you and suddenly, she looked much younger.

You hated the people who had taken her childhood.

‘Was Mac n Cheese your favourite food?’ You asked, ignoring how strange it was for such an unassuming question to hold such weight. Natasha looked down at her plate when she shook her head. The food started to rest more heavily in your stomach.

‘Not my favourite.’ Natasha clarified in a carefully level voice. ‘Someone else’s.’ She paused again, choosing the right words. ‘A friend’s.’

Natasha looked back at you and you met her gaze steadily. No part of Natasha hinted that she felt off balance. Still, you caught the nervous energy emanating from her.

Your thumb brushed her arm soothingly and you didn’t ask any follow up questions. You both knew that she never had any friends in the Red Room.

‘Maybe it’s the baby’s favourite too.’ You said lightly, trying to alleviate the unspoken sadness that had settled between you. 

You stood up, moving to clear the dishes. You took the opportunity to kiss Natasha’s forehead.

‘At least it’s not caviar.’ You muttered teasingly, stealing Natasha’s fork and the piece of macaroni on the end of it. 

Natasha rolled her eyes and you knew she was settled by your familiar tease about her favourite food.

She stood up too, moving behind you suddenly. Her arms stretched around you to take the empty dishes from your hand, a silent insistence to leave the clearing of the table to her. Her lips touched your cheek and you felt immediate warmth spread through you at her affection. Pregnancy made Natasha’s love even more overwhelming.

Her lips lingered by your ear.

‘That’s okay. I’ve got plenty of time to teach them about having good taste.’ Natasha promised you, kissing you again before taking the dishes to the kitchen.

You stayed quiet, hiding a sudden beaming smile. You wondered if Natasha realised that she’d started making plans as a Mom.

.

Natasha circled the date of your sonogram on the calendar. 

The calendar was already your favourite item in the whole house. Natasha had bought it a few weeks after you’d found out that you were pregnant. She’d filled in every important date that she could think of before hanging it in the front hall. 

You had a suspicion that she was trying to recreate the domestic family life that she’d seen played out in movies. Natasha, the professional spy, was not who you’d expect to display important upcoming dates for anyone to view. 

Your heart felt fuller and heavier when you saw Natasha attempt to become the Mom she wasn’t quite sure how to be.

You ached when you realised how little she had to go on. Natasha could learn anything and you watched her work to understand what she was missing. 

Her bedtime reading became exclusively books for expectant parents. She studied with a quiet purpose that made you wonder if she was expecting a test at the hospital.

As the day of the sonogram approached, the two of you mentioned it less and less. There was a heightened feeling of anticipation that was hard to acknowledge. 

You knew that Natasha didn’t actually care about the sex of the baby. Natasha didn’t believe in horoscopes either. Still, you’d found her plotting out the zodiac the other day, trying to figure out which star signs were likely for your baby.

Natasha was impatient to know her kid better. You related to the feeling entirely.

The silence on the drive to the appointment was full of awkward anticipation. You tried not to focus on your growing need to pee. They’d told you to drink some water before the appointment and you’d gone a little overboard. You turned on the radio for distraction, tuning in unexpectedly to a ‘Cheesy Hits’ station. 

Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers filled the car and relieved the tension. Natasha’s fingers started tapping out the beat on the dashboard. The shift in the air was tangible and, suddenly, you felt like you were going on an adventure together. 

‘Dolly for a girl and Kenny for a boy?’ You suggested with a smirk, making sure to keep your eyes on the road ahead. Natasha was not thrilled by your insistence on driving today and you were determined to be the perfect model of safety behind the wheel.

Natasha leaned back against her head rest and you could feel her eyes on you as she turned to face you.

‘Mickey or Minnie.’ She suggested drily.

Your lips pressed together as you tried not to laugh. 

‘Barbie or Ken.’ You countered and Natasha snorted. There was silence in the car and you knew Natasha was trying to think of something to make you laugh.

‘Kermit or Miss Piggy.’ She suggested suddenly and you found yourself desperately trying not to pee as you drove.

The giddiness you felt, as you checked in at the reception, reminded you of that first day together when you’d known that you were pregnant. Natasha’s fingers were interlaced with yours and her touch grounded you. 

You didn’t speak in the waiting room, filled with a shared understanding of the moment. Natasha’s eyes didn’t leave your belly. The baby was part of you and so was Natasha. The three of you felt like one person.

Natasha told you that the jelly was going to feel cold before the nurse could. You wondered if she knew it from movies or from her studying. 

Natasha was trying so hard to be a good mom. Things were already too heightened and you started crying unexpectedly. Natasha used her free hand to stroke your hair comfortingly.

‘Soon.’ She promised soothingly and you knew she thought you were crying with anticipation of the scan. 

Natasha made your heart beat. 

Soon, the room was filled with the sound of the baby’s heart beating too.

When the grainy black and white image of your child appeared on the screen, Natasha stopped squeezing your hand. Your eyes moved between the screen and her expression. Unadulterated longing was written across her face. Her eyes turned to you and you met her gaze readily. Her desperate hope mellowed as she watched your steady joy.

Natasha’s smile turned wide and free. You had never seen her entirely unburdened before. Your eyes turned back to the screen, loving your baby entirely. 

The nurse informed you that it was a girl and the announcement didn’t even register. Natasha started crying, burying her head against your shoulder. Your arm curved around her back automatically. The nurse smiled at you and you smiled back. You felt free too.

You started laughing when you were back in the car. Elton John played out the speakers and Natasha stared down at a picture of your baby.

‘That’s your daughter.’ You reminded her happily. Natasha shook her head but her eyes stayed fixed on the picture.

‘I’m dreaming.’ She said dazedly and something about her tone made you blink back tears again. 

You didn’t have the right words. 

Instead, you placed Natasha’s hand back onto your rounded stomach. There was no absence of proof now that her dreams were coming true.

You didn’t drive back home immediately. You couldn’t resist heading to the baby store instead. When you took a left turn and Natasha realised your intention, she sent you an indulgent smile.

You wandered through the baby clothes section with a languid kind of confidence. You were going to have a daughter. Your skin tingled with happiness.

Natasha sought out a store assistant as you browsed. She wanted to know about the safety ratings on cribs. You couldn’t stop smiling when you heard her begin the interaction by announcing that she was expecting a daughter. The store assistant answered her questions readily and caught your interest in the clothing section of the aisle.

‘These are always my favourite.’ She told you conspiratorially as she approached, picking up a onesie that read ‘World’s Best Sister.’

‘We don’t need that.’ Natasha informed her immediately in a level voice. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at her corrective tone. 

‘Not yet.’ You added, sharing a smile with the store assistant before turning back to face Natasha. 

You expected to see playful exasperation in her expression. Instead, you saw a fierce and inexplicable kind of hurt. Natasha’s gaze was painful to meet. The store assistant saw it too, she placed the outfit back and moved away quietly.

‘Natasha.’ You started hesitantly, feeling entirely unsure of yourself. Natasha just shook her head. Everything felt raw and you knew from the way her eyes darted around the store that this wasn’t the right time.

You kissed her cheek in wordless apology. You led Natasha out of the store, expecting some insistence that you should finish browsing. Her continued silence made you worried. 

You saw the way that she swallowed uncomfortably and felt a corresponding lump rise up in your own throat. You didn’t have to understand the sources of Natasha’s pain to feel it too.

You let the Cheesy Hits station continue to play as you drove home. The silence was tense, but the music still offered some sort of reprieve.

You started humming along as the tune of ‘American Pie’ began to play. At first, you didn’t notice the change in Natasha’s breathing. Her hand gripped your arm suddenly and you startled at the unexpected touch.

You glanced over to her and caught her struggling to take a breath. Illogically, your first thought was that she was choking. Then, you heard her rattling inhale and recognised the panic attack. 

Anxiety flooded you too as you tried to keep driving safely. 

‘What is it?’ You asked stupidly as you started moving hurriedly through the lanes of traffic.

Natasha’s words were fearful and they didn’t make any sense.

‘I think my sister is dead.’ She told you as the shaky breaths turned to ragged sobs. 

You pulled over at the side of the road. You moved towards Natasha, ignoring the uncomfortable sound of the other cars rushing past.

‘Breathe love.’ You directed her calmly, resting your hand on her shoulder in an attempt to ground her.

With military effort, Natasha forced herself to breathe regularly. The sound was still shaky and her inhales were desperate. You’d never seen her spiral like that before.

You turned off the radio unthinkingly and Natasha sagged with a weighted kind of relief. You glanced at the car speakers in alarm. You tried to guess what her words could have meant. 

Natasha’s breathing regulated and you confirmed your suspicion.

‘The song?’ You checked carefully. Natasha nodded once, blowing out a slow breath.

‘You have a sister?’ You asked now and she nodded one more time, eyes squeezing shut for a second. You nodded too, trying to reconcile this new piece of information.

‘At the store.’ You began softly as the pieces clicked. Natasha gave you a pained look in confirmation.

‘That song was her favourite.’ She told you in between carefully controlled breaths.

You couldn’t help your eyebrows raising in confusion. The song was too American to fit with Natasha’s past. In a flash, you remembered the Mac and Cheese. You remembered her ‘friend’ in Ohio, you wondered how long that early mission could have lasted.

‘I don’t know where she is. She could have died in the Red Room.’ Natasha confessed and her eyes were filled with an awful self-loathing. You wondered how long she’d been living with this private grief. 

‘Can you track her down?’ You asked her unsurely, feeling the conversation drain away all your earlier joy.

‘I mean, can we track her down?’ You corrected immediately, because Natasha wasn’t doing this alone.

‘No.’ Natasha shook her head and her voice caught. ‘She, uh, she wouldn't want to see me.’ 

‘Are you sure?’ You prompted quietly and Natasha nodded. 

‘We’re not. We weren’t real sisters. There was a mission. It was all pretend.’

You could see the guilt resting on Natasha’s shoulders, you watched her bend forward under the weight of it. Her hands covered her face briefly. 

‘That doesn’t mean it didn’t feel real.’ You reminded her quietly. ‘Blood doesn’t make family.’ 

You took her hand then, it felt too cold. Instinctively, you covered it with both of your own, trying to give her warmth. You ignored the fleeting concern that Natasha wouldn’t see her daughter as really hers either.

Natasha shook her head slowly and abruptly you were sure that you’d said the wrong thing.

‘It felt too real.’ Natasha murmured. ‘She was too young. She didn’t know the truth. Not until they sent us back to the Red Room.’

‘Oh, Natasha.’ You said softly, because your heart was breaking. Your arm slid softly along her arched back.

Sometimes, you could imagine Natasha as a kid, the abandoned girl that monsters had raised. You had seen how protective Natasha was of you, of the child that was still inside of you. You imagined another little girl, trusting Natasha as family. 

You ached for Natasha’s loss, for the failure you knew she saw as hers.

.

‘She might be living happily somewhere, just like you.’ The words fell out of your mouth that evening. You were already in bed, you’d placed the sonogram photo on top of your nightstand. Your mood had swung sharply all day between bubbling joy and weighted tension. 

Natasha was undressing at the foot of your bed. Her breath caught and she looked at you. You saw the same desperate longing in her eyes as you had at the sonogram. You felt the urge to keep speaking.

‘If she’s anything like you. She’ll be busy causing trouble and making a family of her own. She’s your sister, it’s not impossible.’ 

The images sounded too fantastical and you paused uncertainly. Natasha’s eyes clung to yours. She moved over to you, hands touching your thighs as she crawled up the bed. Natasha looked vulnerable and your eyes searched hers carefully, trying to determine what she was looking for.

She lifted your top slowly and pressed her lips to your belly. You watched her reverence and felt a slow heat build inside you. Natasha kept moving up your body and you felt her breasts brush over you as she curved herself around you.

When she reached your mouth, she leaned in to kiss you. There was the slightest hesitation and then you felt her gratitude for your farfetched comfort. Giving Natasha hope was all you knew how to do.

Natasha pressed her lips against yours for a second time. When the kiss broke, more words fell from your mouth.

‘What was her name?’ You asked simply.

‘Yelena.’ Natasha replied and the sound of it was precious.

.

You celebrated Natasha’s birthday on the 1st of December. It was unlikely to be her actual date of birth, but it was the one she used. All Natasha knew was that she’d been born in winter. 

Your baby was also going to be born in winter, but not until the new year. You felt too large now, missing the simple flexibility that you’d taken for granted your whole life.

You’d had plenty of time to think of a birthday present for Natasha. A Russian ballet had seemed like a risky surprise. You’d asked her about it before you’d booked the tickets. 

Natasha’s smile had been shy at your suggestion.

‘I always wanted to be a dancer.’ She informed you hesitantly and you wondered if you’d ever stop finding new ways to love her.

Her birthday had been a languid and casual affair. You were getting tired more easily and yet hormones had woken you before daybreak with unbearable excitement. 

Your eagerness had lasted through most of the lunch at her favourite restaurant. Natasha had flushed self-consciously in front of her friends when you kissed her enthusiastically after she cut the cake. 

Clint’s sarcastic applause seemed to rally Natasha and she marked your nose teasingly with a piece of frosting just to make him roll his eyes.

By the time you returned home, you were living in a new state of exhaustion. Natasha ended up driving in silence whilst you napped in the passenger seat. 

You knew she didn’t mind. Natasha gently led you back into the house and onto the sofa. Your eyes barely opened, trusting her guidance entirely. You remembered nothing after the moment your head had touched the sofa cushion.

You startled awake when Natasha’s fingers lightly touched your shoulder. You smiled lazily when you saw her face hovering above yours.

‘Happy Birthday!’ You told her, arms going wide in a half stretch and half celebration.

Natasha stared down at your upside down smile and blinked back tears. 

You were no stranger now to sudden rushes of happiness. You moved her hands over to your belly. 

‘You can’t get one of these every year.’ You mumbled, still sounding half asleep. ‘Takes much more baking than a cake does.’

Natasha laughed easily, the sound bubbling up in a way that was rare for her. You grinned with satisfaction and your eyes closed for another brief moment as you soaked in the warmth of it.

Natasha helped you to sit up. She lingered awkwardly next to you on the sofa. You knew instinctively what she wanted to do. You lifted your top slightly and gave her a knowing smirk.

‘Love you.’ Natasha mumbled as she kissed your bump. Her cheeks reddened and she purposefully avoided your eye contact as she straightened up. Still, her hand reached out to help you as you moved to leave the sofa. 

When you stood up, you didn’t let go of Natasha's hand. You tapped her wrist twice and Natasha turned to face you automatically.

‘You can’t be shy about loving your daughter.’ You reminded Natasha quietly, trailing your fingers up and down her bare forearm. 

Natasha’s embarrassment flickered for a moment and then turned into something quieter. Her lips touched your neck as she brought you close to her. You felt her cheeks touch your skin as she started to smile widely.

‘I can’t believe I have a daughter.’ Natasha whispered, more to herself than to you. 

You grinned suddenly, hearing the dawning realisation in Natasha’s voice that never went away.

‘I can’t believe I married such a MILF.’ You teased back, arms wrapping around her. Natasha’s head tilted and she left small kisses up the side of your neck.

Since your second trimester, Natasha could turn you on with a wink. You moaned loudly at the sensation of Natasha’s lips on your skin and you felt her smile again.

‘Ballet.’ You choked out, trying to stay focused. ‘Ballet, Birthday.’

‘Ballet.’ Natasha repeated and her lips met yours in a gentle kind of kiss. 

‘Birthday.’ She told you, before kissing you again. 

‘Baby.’ Natasha added and her hands touched your stomach again. Her eyes were bright with excitement and you felt her joy like it was your own. 

You leaned forward yourself now. Your cheek brushed hers as you moved next to her ear. ‘Boobs.’ You whispered, reaching up to squeeze them meaningfully. 

Natasha rolled her eyes playfully. Her smile seemed permanent as her gaze trailed over you.

‘Bedtime.’ She promised and you tried to ignore the way heat pooled between your legs. It was going to be a long night of anticipation.

.

You watched Natasha far more than you watched the ballet dancers. Everything captivating in their performance was reflected in the focus of her attention. Her eyes were fixed on each dancer in turn as they made impossible moves seem effortless.

You found yourself coming out of a trance at the interval. Natasha turned to look at you and you watched her lips draw back into a smile. 

‘I always wanted to be a dancer.’ She told you again and the thought of it made you smile. You tapped the top of your belly.

‘Maybe she’ll want to be one.’ You pondered playfully, reaching for the brochure resting in Natasha’s lap.

“What name should we pick?’ You considered thoughtfully as you began to suggest the names of various listed dancers.

Natasha’s hand on your thigh silenced you before you could finish half-seriously suggesting ‘Katarina.’

‘We can’t call her something Russian.’ Natasha informed you obviously. Her voice was light, but you could almost taste the sudden tension in the air.

You tilted your head questioningly.

“Why not?’ You challenged immediately. 

‘She’s not Russian.’ Natasha answered simply and you recognised the resoluteness in her eyes. You’d been together long enough to anticipate each other’s arguments. Still, you refused to give up.

‘Her mother is Russian.’ You emphasised pointedly. 

‘Not really. Not biologically.’ Natasha countered with a sudden softness. You hated that her tone had changed to appease you. 

‘I’m naming her Natasha Jr.” You decided stubbornly, rubbing wide circles over your belly in an attempt to calm yourself in the large theatre. ‘Good luck avoiding the child support payments.’

There was a pause as Natasha considered your expression. You refused to look at her, staring determinedly at the empty stage below you. If you focused on your anger for too long, you knew that you’d end up crying.

After a moment, Natasha’s head moved to rest on your shoulder. The moment settled immediately between you. You knew she was thanking you for loving her so certainly. You found her hand, still resting on your thigh and held it gently.

Those who’d left the theatre during the interval began to return slowly to their seats.

‘My mother was in the ballet.’ Natasha said quietly into the loud chatter that surrounded you. You fought the urge to turn your head. Instead, your arm moved instinctively around her shoulder, squeezing lightly in comfort. Natasha’s head tilted on your shoulder as she focused down at your bump.

‘I mean, I used to pretend she was.’ Natasha corrected herself. ‘I always wanted to go to the ballet, in case she’d recognise me in the crowd.’

You didn’t speak for a moment. Natasha had been too young, it was unbearable.

‘It’s hard.’ You began hoarsely, in the moments before the ballet resumed. ‘Things have been so unfair for you, but that’s made you exactly who you are.’

The tears began to catch up with your words.

‘And you’re going to be such a good mother.’ You choked out, feeling sadness like a tremble through your skin. 

Natasha didn’t say anything in return. She shifted in her seat slightly, moving almost imperceptibly closer to you. 

When the ballet finished and everyone around you moved to their feet, Natasha finally looked at you.

‘I love you.’ She reminded you quietly as she took your hand. You gave her a small smile.

“I know.’ You assured her, because you did.

.

You hadn’t known how to tell Natasha that you weren’t looking forward to Christmas. You’d entered your third trimester and begun to dread any days that called for increased stamina. 

More than anything, you’d found yourself desperate for the moments when it was just you and her. You were on the precipice of something new and you found yourself seeking comfort in the steadiness of what you’d already built with Natasha.

You should have known that you didn’t need to tell her. 

When you woke on Christmas Day, it wasn’t because of the alarm that you’d set the night before. Natasha was sitting up in the bed next to you, engrossed in a parenting book that you’d left wrapped under the tree the night before.

You hummed lowly in sleepy confusion, shifting in the bed as you tried to piece together the unexpected morning. You should have already been driving to see Clint’s family. Natasha looked down at you and everything about her smile was calming. Her hand brushed the top of your head and you felt assured that everything was going to plan.

‘Don’t worry.’ Natasha murmured and you couldn’t help yawning. ‘I only opened the one present.’

You nestled into Natasha’s side as you fell back asleep. Her hand stayed resting lazily on the top of your head. You loved all of Natasha’s warmth. 

You hadn’t bought any one big gift for Natasha this Christmas. You’d noticed in past years that, more than anything, she seemed to get a thrill just from the act of unwrapping. You had a feeling it was another way that she chased the American fantasy that she’d seen in movies.

Natasha’s giddiness on Christmas morning was your favourite thing. You watched her surreptitiously from the sofa as she opened each of your gifts in turn. You never took a photo of her though, the look in her eye seemed too precious to share.

Natasha was completely herself on Christmas morning. It was magical.

At last, she opened the present that you were most nervous for her to see. You held your breath as Natasha unwrapped the wide book eagerly. She stilled as she read the simple cover.

‘Becoming Mom.’

Natasha turned to the first page unsurely. She startled in surprise, just like you’d anticipated. She’d known that the photo inside had been taken, but she’d never looked at it herself. 

You’d offered your phone to the nurse during the sonogram. 

Natasha’s cheeks were tear stained in the picture and her hand was clasped loosely with your own. The other touched unthinkingly at her own waist, as if the baby on the screen might as well have been inside of her. 

Everything about her emanated a precarious kind of bliss.

Natasha closed the book suddenly and glanced back up at you.

‘The rest is for you to fill in.’ You mumbled unsurely, feeling a sudden need to avoid Natasha’s gaze. Natasha had never looked more vulnerable than in that photo. Everytime you looked at it, you loved her more fiercely than ever. 

Natasha didn’t love herself like you loved her. You weren’t sure what she was going to say. Her pause lasted an eternity.

Finally, Natasha’s choked voice cut through the silence.

‘I look like a Mom.” Natasha said quietly, and you decided that you’d never stop falling in love with her.

‘You are a Mom.’ You reminded her surely. Natasha’s hands moved to your stomach and suddenly you felt like time had lost all meaning. You felt like you’d always known her. Her touch felt more familiar than your own.

‘I love you.’ You told Natasha softly. The corner of Natasha’s mouth twitched upwards immediately. When she looked up at you, her eyes glittered. 

‘I know.’ She replied simply, and you knew that she did.

.

Before lunch, Natasha led you out into the backyard to show you your present. You were having Mac and Cheese for Christmas lunch, saying farewell to a food that was now steeped in different layers of nostalgia.

The air was crisp and immediately you were grateful for Natasha’s insistence that you wear a jacket. Natasha’s cheeks turned red as she stood to your left hand side in an attempt to buffer you from the icy wind.

When you turned the corner, you saw what Natasha had made for you.

The wooden swing and slide set stood perfectly in the corner of the backyard. You gripped Natasha’s hand tight at the warm rush of being loved entirely. Suddenly, the air didn’t feel cold at all. Tears threatened as you tried to process the emotion.

The swing was too big for your baby, it would be years until your daughter could play on any part of the structure. You didn’t care. It made everything better. Natasha had planned for years in the future.

‘I had one like this in Ohio.’ Natasha told you with a serenity that you didn’t expect to hear. Her eyes trailed over the swing set as she spoke. ‘I know it’s not quite right for now, but it was my favourite place in the whole world.’

‘Why?’ You asked timidly. You’d loved Natasha for years already. You realised you were in love with a sun that was still rising. 

Natasha started walking again. Her hand slid around your waist, slipping down to squeeze your ass once familiarly, before resting at your hip.

When you reached the swing, Natasha gestured for you to sit and you did. Your fingers tangled in the metal chain as you watched her face in anticipation. You knew that she’d heard your question.

‘Whenever I was swinging, I would close my eyes.’ Natasha started, and you knew she’d spent the silence planning out her answer in her head. ‘And when my eyes were closed, I could pretend that my parents had bought me the swing set. That people loved me, really loved me, because how else could I have something so nice?’

Her hand covered yours on the cold metal chain. Natasha stood next to your shoulder. You closed your eyes, imagining the impossible feeling that she’d described to you.

You gripped the chain heavily as you pulled yourself back to your feet.

‘I need to show you something.’ You told her as you led her back into the house. You walked quickly, feeling certain of what you were about to do but entirely unsure of Natasha’s response.

You picked up the baby book that had been left on the kitchen counter and handed it back to Natasha.

‘Look inside.’ You directed her with an encouraging gesture. Natasha’s eyes dropped down to the book. She turned the page again, this time moving past the one of her at the sonogram.

The next page had been specially embossed. You’d glued in the card that was presented there. Natasha gripped the book tightly as she read the subsection title.

‘Yelena, aged 0 - 1 month’

When Natasha looked back at you, she seemed uncertain. 

‘After her Mom’s sister.’ You said, feeling uneasy about her lack of response. Your fingers played with the edge of your jacket and you found yourself avoiding her eyes.

‘We don’t have to do it.’ You hedged carefully. ‘I just want her to have a piece of you that can’t be taken away.’

Natasha didn’t speak and you glanced back up. Your shoulders relaxed at the familiar love in your wife’s eyes.

“And you won’t let me call her Natasha Jr.’ You added pointedly, with a sudden urge to lighten the mood.

The book snapped shut abruptly. Natasha moved towards you so suddenly that you didn’t have time to register her proximity before her lips were on yours.

Natasha filled your senses with a perfect familiarity. You loved the heat of her lips, the feel of her body pressed against you, the touch of her hand on the back of your neck as she deepened the kiss. 

Natasha was home and you couldn’t feel lost anymore.

Sharp relief flooded you as you realised that your daughter was going to have the name that you’d been hoping for. 

The kiss broke at last and your hands moved to Natasha’s shoulders as you tried to look at her face. Natasha took a small step back, eyes still closed.

A wave of understanding rushed over you.

‘You don’t have to keep your eyes closed.’ You promised Natasha softly. ‘I’ll still love you when they’re open.’

Natasha’s lips twitched into a shy smile and slowly she opened her eyes.

‘Yelena.’ Natasha repeated as her hands trailed up your sides and gently lingered at the top of your bump.

‘We can save Natasha Jr for the next one.’ You teased again and Natasha smiled wide. 

Her hand pressed lightly on the back of your neck and she pulled you in for another kiss.

[sgm616]

[sgm616]