#Black Widow x Sapphic Reader
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ange1heavensent · 2 months ago
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━High Class Hooker━
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Pairing: singer!natasha romanoff x model!fem reader
Content Warning: +18 content, minors do not interact, making out, tribbing, porn with plot, fic based on Madonnas and Jenny Shimizu's relationship in the 90's
w/c ≈ 2000
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Natasha Romanoff was a force of nature on stage and a global icon. The world adored her, worshipped her every move, her voice, her presence. Her performances across Europe were breaking records, with people flying across countries to watch her perform. But beneath all the flashing lights and roaring crowds, her mind was always drawn back to you, an undeniable craving pulling at her whenever you were apart.
Tonight, after another concert in Paris, that craving was stronger than ever. The encore had barely ended, the applause still ringing in her ears when she slipped away backstage, grabbing her phone with a hunger she couldn't ignore. She dialled your number, her fingers trembling slightly. When you answered, your voice soft and teasing, it sent a spark of desire straight through her. "Hey, superstar," you greeted, a smile in your voice. "How was the show?"
Natasha leaned against the dressing room counter, her heartbeat quickening just at the sound of you. "It was fine," she murmured, her tone low and sultry, the music she had just performed was still thrumming in her ears. "But it would’ve been better if you were here." A beat of silence lingered before you chuckled, the sound rich and knowing. "Missing me already?"
"I need you," Natasha breathed, her voice husky with intent. There was no point in pretending, she didn’t just miss you, she needed you. Every muscle in her body was aching with the memory of your touch, your skin, the way you felt beneath her. "Get on the first flight. Come to me."
It wasn’t the first time Natasha had summoned you like this, calling you away from your world of flashing cameras and runways to be at her side, even if only for one night. You were both high-profile figures, always on the move, but when she called, you came. Every time.
You could hear the command in her voice, the silent plea, and it stirred something deep inside you. "I’ll be there," you replied, and hung up, your pulse quickening with anticipation.
-
Within hours, you were on a plane, Paris-bound, the city lights glowing in the distance as the private car Natasha had sent waited at the airport to collect you. The car sped through the quiet, rain-slicked streets of Paris until it finally pulled up at the discreet hotel where she was staying. The driver escorted you up to Natasha’s penthouse suite. No security checks and no questions asked. You were whisked through the lobby with the kind of efficiency that came with being connected to a world-class celebrity.
The door to her suite opened just as you arrived. There she stood, leaning against the doorframe, her hair still slightly damp from the post-show shower. She looked at you with a smouldering gaze, wearing nothing but a silk robe that hung loosely around her figure. "You made it," Natasha purred, her eyes dark with desire as they roamed over you, drinking you in. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," you teased, stepping inside, the door clicking shut behind you as she pulled you in close, her lips crashing against yours with an urgency that told you everything. Natasha never wasted time on words when she could show you exactly what she wanted.
You barely had time to breathe as she pressed you against the nearest wall, her hands already slipping beneath the fabric of your coat, fingers tracing the edges of your body with practised precision. "I’ve been thinking about this all night," she whispered, her lips brushing against your neck, "thinking about you." The heat between you grew instantly, the air charged with a tension that neither of you bothered to fight. Natasha’s hands were everywhere, possessive, demanding, and you could feel her need in every touch.
The bed was only steps away, but Natasha didn't have the patience to make it there just yet. She wanted to feel you, to have you right here, right now. Your clothes were gone in a matter of moments, discarded carelessly as she led you to the edge of the bed.
She pushed you down, crawling over you, her weight pressing you into the plush mattress. "You know what I want," she whispered, her voice thick with desire as her fingers began tracing patterns along your thighs. You bit back a moan as she took control, her touch skilled, knowing exactly how to unravel you.
Your hands travelled north, tracing the soft skin of her thighs and hips before slipping over the delicate fabric of her silk robe. With a gentle tug, you loosened the knot at her waist, the robe falling open with ease. Though you had seen Natasha naked before, the sight of her always took your breath away. Your eyes lingered on her chest, her nipples already hardened by the cool air. Leaning in, you pressed your lips to one, the warmth of your mouth a sharp contrast to the cold, drawing a low, satisfied groan from her. 
As your mouth lavished attention on her sensitive skin, you could feel Natasha's body tense and relax beneath your touch. Her fingers tangled in your hair, a quiet gasp escaping her lips. Her back arched slightly, pressing her chest into you, silently begging for more. "You always know exactly what I need," Natasha whispered, her voice breathless.
You responded by pressing a soft kiss to her sternum, your lips tracing the delicate line of her collarbone. The cool air of the room made each warm touch even more intense. You pulled her closer, the silk robe slipping down her shoulders. The soft fabric gilded against her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
You paused for a moment, your gaze meeting hers. Tell me what you want," you whispered against her skin, your breath sending shivers through her. Natasha's lips curved into a soft smile as she leaned back,"I want to feel you," she murmured, her voice dropping lower. "All of you." With that, you laid down again and let her take charge. She repositioned your bodies, guided your thigh upward and positioned herself above you. The shift of her body, the warmth and weight of her above you, left you breathless. Natasha shuddered as she felt her clitoris nudge against yours, your gasp and indication that you were as sensitive as she was.
Your hands found their place on her hips, fingers grazing the delicate skin. She shivered slightly at your touch, and the sensation made your heart pound harder. You guided her slowly, savouring the way her body pressed against yours, the rhythm between you growing more deliberate.
With every slow movement, there were new sounds emitting from both of you. The way her eyes fluttered shut, the soft gasp that escaped her lips, these were moments you laid awake at night thinking about. You mirrored her pace, each motion purposeful, dragging out the delicious pleasure.
“You feel so good,” she whispered, her voice heavy with desire. There was something raw and honest in her tone that made your stomach tighten with want. You responded without words, your hands roaming across her body, tracing the line of her spine before gently pulling her down closer to you. Her soft skin, warm and inviting, pressed against you, and the sensation of being so close, so connected, sent a rush through your entire body.
Natasha’s hips began to move with more intent, her pace quickening as the friction between you intensified. Her head tilted back slightly, exposing the curve of her neck. You leaned forward, brushing your lips against her throat, the soft, salty taste of her skin grounding you in the moment. As her body rocked against yours, the air between you grew charged, each breath shared, each touch deliberate. You could feel her pulse quickening under your fingertips as she let herself get lost in the rhythm you had created together.
When she opened her eyes again, the intensity in her gaze made your heart skip a beat. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice raw with need. “I won’t,” you murmured, your words soft but filled with the same urgency that coursed through both of you.
Natasha’s hands trailed down your sides, her touch light and teasing, yet insistent. The friction between your bodies was almost overwhelming now, every subtle movement drawing you both closer to the edge. You could feel her tensing, the tension coiling tighter in both of you.“God, you’re incredible,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath against her skin.
Her response was a soft moan, her forehead pressing against yours as she let herself get lost in the sensation. You could feel her trembling, her body responding to every movement, every touch, and the knowledge of how close she was only intensified your own pleasure.
The rhythm between you grew more frantic, bodies pressing together with increasing urgency. You were both teetering on the edge, the pleasure building into something too powerful to hold back any longer. Natasha’s breath hitched, her hips moving with even more need, and you felt the moment of tension just before she came undone. Her body trembled above you, her moans breaking into soft gasps as the pleasure overtook her. The sight and sound of her, completely lost in the moment, sent you over the edge with her. Your own release crashed over you, the sensation overwhelming as you held her close, both of you riding out the waves of pleasure together.
As the intensity of the moment faded, you both collapsed into each other, breathing hard, bodies still trembling. The room felt quieter now, the tension replaced by a soft, lingering warmth. Natasha stayed curled up against you, her skin warm and flushed. For a moment, neither of you spoke, content to just lie there in the afterglow, feeling each other’s presence.
Finally, Natasha broke the silence, her voice soft and full of affection. “You always know how to take my breath away.” You chuckled, pressing a kiss to her damp forehead, feeling the steady rhythm of her heart against yours. “You do the same to me.”
-
The first rays of morning light filtered through the curtains when you woke, the air still thick with the scent of her perfume and the aftermath of last night. Natasha was already up, sitting at the edge of the bed, her back to you as she stared out the window at the city below, wrapped in her robe.
She sensed your stirring and turned, her expression soft, but that guarded look already creeping back into her eyes. "I have to leave soon," she said quietly. There was a flicker of regret in her voice, but it was hidden behind the wall she's built between you. "The tour continues."
You sat up, the sheets falling around your waist. You understood the deal between you, the unspoken rules. You were her escape, her indulgence in the moments when the spotlight grew too bright, but nothing more. There was no room for more. "I know," you replied, rising from the bed, already reaching for your clothes. There was no need for affection, no lingering goodbyes. You both knew the routine.
As you dressed, you caught her watching you, her gaze lingering longer than it usually did. But she didn’t say anything, didn’t try to stop you. Natasha was always careful to keep you at arm’s length, no matter how close she pulled you at night. With a final glance, you walked to the door, the cool handle in your palm. "Good luck with the next show." Natasha nodded, her lips curving into a small, almost sad smile. 
"Thanks."
And with that, you left, the heavy door clicking shut behind you as you slipped back into your world, leaving Natasha Romanoff to continue in hers. But you both knew it wouldn’t be long before she called again. And when she did, you'd be there, ready to fall into her arms, if only for one more night.
:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。.。:+*゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:
Thank you for reading! If you liked this fic, check out my masterlist for more :)
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nataliasquote · 5 months ago
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Sun-kissed by an angel | n romanoff
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summary: the perfect lazy morning in the Romanoff summer beach house
wc: 1.5k
notes: I know I’ve been MIA for a while, but I’m back with a short but soft and fluffy oneshot. I wish this was my life tbh, I feel like a beach holiday and a cozy morning with a hot girl would make my life so much better
-⧗-
The gentle tickle of the ocean breeze brushed across the sleeping woman’s exposed skin, stirring her from her heavy slumber with the promise of sun. It dappled through the open curtains of the balcony doors, but the light wasn’t harsh like it usually was. Many days had started just like this, crumpled sheets and exposed limbs being warmed by the dazzling sun. Y/n blinked to adjust to the brightness, stretching her limbs out across the expanse of soft white blankets, frowning as her palms landed upon nothing but fabric. The bed was larger, far bigger than any she’d slept in before, but it felt even bigger without her person by her side.
Waking up with the sea view directly in front of her was a dream but even the gentle rolling waves didn’t quite tug the smile back to her lips as she swung her legs out of bed and let her feet land upon the sanded hardwood floor. Without pulling on anything to cover her blue pyjama shorts set, she wandered down the hallway of the country style house, passing the photo covered walls and airy windows, until she reached the kitchen.
The radio on the windowsill crackled out nostalgic tunes and Y/n paused in the doorway, taking in the sight before her. The redheaded woman she adored with her whole heart was swaying softly to the music, the oversized white button down that adorned her body hanging loosely from her shoulders and stopping mid thigh. The large window above the sink was wide open, letting in a deliciousness to drift from the beach below and mix with the combination of freshly brewed coffee and the new bouquet sitting in prize position on the grand windowsill.
Natasha’s back was turned as she hummed to herself, allowing her wife a moment of admiration before she crossed the tiled floor and slipped her arms around the redhead’s waist. Natasha wasn’t startled, she was an ex spy after all, but her body immediately relaxed into the touch of her wife. They stayed embraced for a few moments, Natasha’s head tilting backwards to rest on Y/n’s shoulder behind her. She smiled lazily and brought her own hands up to grasp onto her lover’s, holding her tightly.
“Did you sleep well?” She muttered softly, goosebumps littering her skin as Y/n’s hands grazed her stomach.
Y/n hummed, turning her wife around so they were finally face to face. “I would have slept better if you didn’t leave before I woke up.” Her mouth pouted slightly but Natasha quickly kissed her lips, her remedy for unhappiness.
“I’m sorry, baby,” she apologised, “I just wanted to surprise you with breakfast.”
Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed at the mention of food. Her wife was a lot of things, but a cook she was not. She followed Natasha’s gaze to a pan on the stove where a sorry looking egg was cooking - or at least trying to.
“Tasha, honey… you haven’t turned the stove on.”
Natasha went to protest but Y/n pressed the button and turned the dial, the pair of them watching as the oil in the pan began to sizzle. Y/n smiled, trying to hide her laughter but Natasha caught her and huffed, sliding away from the stove and dragging Y/n over to the other counter, trapping her body in between the granite countertop and her strong body.
“How long have you been trying to cook that egg?” Y/n asked with fake seriousness, one which Natasha saw straight through. She rolled her eyes and pressed her hips forward, grabbing her wife’s face in her scarred palms.
“You’re lucky that I love you and will put up with this teasing after everything I do for you,” she grumbled, even though she wasn’t at all offended. Her wife was the light of her life and a far better cook, despite Natasha’s best efforts. She gazed into her love’s eyes, watching them sparkle in the sunlight and she couldn’t hold herself back anymore. Natasha pressed their lips together in a loving but firm kiss, almost like she was trying to kiss the smirk off her wife’s face. Her hands cupped Y/n’s cheeks with such tenderness that the other woman melted slightly, her body falling forwards into the comfort of her wife.
“You’re too good at that, my love, but that egg will burn if we continue like this,” Y/n started, trying to push Natasha away, much to the redhead’s disdain. The promise of breakfast was far in the back of her mind and she ignored Y/n’s help of protest when she grabbed the backs of her thighs and lifted her up onto the counter, spreading her thighs to stand between them with a smirk.
“You were saying?”
Y/n shook her head, a playful smile dancing across her lips. Her wife really was unbelievable. “At least turn the stove off, Nat. We just had this kitchen redone.”
“It’s barely warmed up.”
“And I know you. You’ll forget all about it and then complain when it’s black.” Natasha opened her mouth. “Don’t protest, you know I’m right.”
The redhead rolled her eyes but stepped away for two seconds, keeping her eyes locked on her wife on the counter as she fiddled around for the knob, turning it with a click. She raised an eyebrow, almost asking ‘happy?’ and Y/n nodded whilst beckoning her back over.
“That wasn’t hard now, was it?”
Natasha stayed quiet. Her fingertips slowly danced up Y/n’s bare thighs, tracing invisible patterns on her freshly tanned skin until they reached the hem of her shorts. Natasha laid her palms flat, suddenly looking up at her wife again through her lashes, giving her a look that melted the world away.
“Stop…” yet she wasn’t at all convincing. Y/n’s own hands absentmindedly drifted to the open collar of Natasha’s shirt, her collarbones just showing under the soft linen. “I love this shirt on you, my god.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm,” Y/n hummed softly. She followed her fingers with her eyes, connecting the freckles on her wife’s pale skin across her chest. Regardless of her hours spent in the sun, Natasha was never tanned, but it only made her look more ethereal in Y/n’s eyes. Like an angel with a glowing halo of hair about her head.
They didn’t need to talk, not in moments like this. Their eyes spoke a thousand words, and the soft call of seabirds in the distance reminded them both of the life they now lived, the craziness of the Avengers a thing of the past. A slow life was their new normal, and Natasha had moulded into her new role surprisingly well.
“Why don’t we go to the farmer’s market today?” Natasha suggested, her hands still resting on her wife’s thighs, her favourite place to be.
Y/n narrowed her eyes, seeing through that innocent facade. “You want me to make my salad don’t you?”
Natasha grinned, moving her hands up to Y/n’s waist, pulling her closer until her legs wrapped around Nat’s waist and they were as close as they could be. Natasha was an utter simp for her wife, and she wasn’t ashamed of that. Not at all. She would get it tattooed on her forehead if she could.
“I do, but I also want to see you in a pretty summer dress in our town today.” Another weakness, Natasha was feeling extra soft today, and Y/n would never complain. Natasha’s possessiveness came out extra strong when Y/n wore one of her favourite dresses. They always attracted extra attention and there was nothing more that the redhead loved more than to slide an arm around her waist or stop her in the street and kiss her fiercely. Just to shut down the wandering eyes of the other men and women in their small coastal town.
“What my wife wants, she gets,” Y/n leaned down and kissed Natasha’s forehead before signalling to get down. “What about breakfast?”
They both peered over at the half cooked mess of an egg on the stove before bursting into laughter. Straight into the trash it went, that was clear.
“I’m going to take my gorgeous wife out for breakfast,” the redhead announced, twirling Y/n under her arm in time to the music still playing from the radio. “With the promise of properly cooked eggs and a beautiful view.”
“I already have a beautiful view.” Cheesy.
“Get out of here,” Natasha joked, administering a slap to her wife’s ass as she ran out of the kitchen and down the hallway, a redhead hot on her heels.
But their urgency to leave was short lived as Natasha tackled Y/n onto the bed, peppering her face with kisses as they rolled around on the crumpled sheets, acting more like teenagers than thirty year old women. But they were allowed to, Natasha had been robbed of a childhood after all.
Breakfast could wait, this morning was much more important.
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l0nelyish · 5 months ago
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It‘s about that sandwich!
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natasha romanoff x fem!reader
prompt: where you just can’t help but stun Natasha… and maybe get on her nerves? she doesn’t know which one it is.
nothin but pure fluff and nat being pouty af
lil bit of grumpy nat x sunshine reader if you squint.
3rd pov
„That‘s it.“, Wanda turned around, confused. Witnessing Natasha angry, sure thing. Witnessing her confused? never.
“What’s the matter with you, everything alright?”
Natasha huffed, pouting almost childlike. It’s so not like her to seem this openly frustrated, but she couldn’t care less. “Do I seem alright to you? No. This is the fifth time this month she’s been emptying one of the pbj ingredients before i could make one for myself.”, she dragged her eyes across the room, almost analyzing as in ‘hide and seek’. Where could you have been? And why do you have to steal ‘her’ ingredients? Natasha was bothered by you, yes. Extremely.
Wanda took another look at Natasha and chuckled: “Damn, does a peanut butter and jelly sandwich really have that much value to THE black widow? Oh my Lord.”
Natasha almost wanted to hit Wanda in the head with her slices of bread. It was really tempting, she had to admit. The witch shot her a knowing look, most likely hearing her thoughts. Again, the Russian woman huffed. Her temper was really not her strongest suit. Especially not after provoking it.
“It has a decent amount of value, thank you. What do you want me to say? ‘Oh my God! I can’t live without a pbj sandwich! Help me!’ ?”, Natasha shot her a glare, sarcasm being her best suited form of selfdefense. She truly is a witty woman.
On the other side of the kitchen aisle, Wanda tried her best not to fall into a laughing fit. Never has she ever seen Natasha this distressed, this fuzzy. And then, after really considering who they were discussing, she sent her friend a knowing smirk:
“Are you really this cranky about two bread slices or is it because of your ‘definitely not crush’ ?”
Natasha stared at her, eyes blown in shock: she got caught. Again. She usually wouldn’t let someone else read her this easily, but since this is you they’re talking about, and it’s Wanda she’s talking to, there really is no reason to facade it. Still, she tries to deny: “I told you a hundred times, I don’t like her! I can’t even stand her. I mean, she empties the food. What am I supposed to eat now?” So wrong. Even Natasha knows her whole act of trying to hate and blame you for everything is not working and it’s just her best shot at ignoring the rising feelings she’s got for you. But could anybody blame her, really? When you were this excited, extremely beautiful, empathetic and shiny human being?
You entered the kitchen, unaware of the ongoing dispute. Hot on your heels, you scanned the room and reacted to Natashas last sentence: “Did Steve forget the groceries? Are you hungry?”
And just like that, after merely 5 seconds, Natasha dreaded holding a grudge. Her whole demeanor snapped (no pun intended) and her eyes gazed almost neutrally into your warm gaze: “Someone emptied the whole peanut butter jar. And now I can’t make my dinner.”
Surprisingly, you sent her a goofy smile: “Oh! That must have been me, I’m extremely sorry, Tasha. I do have another half of my pbj sandwich left though, I was about to refrigerate it.”, you held up your plate. She gave it a look and panicked internally: were you really about to share your meal? As if gathering her freight, you again sent her a toothy smile and handed her the leftover half. “Enjoy!”, was all you stated, leaving both women standing around the kitchen isle. Plus the pbj sandwich, which Natasha stared at for longer than necessary. The corners of her mouth started to form a smile, which after some contemplation she insisted on not following through.
Wanda, who encountered the whole interaction, had a huge smirk on her face.
Natasha on the other hand, without having to look at her friends face, mentally face palmed herself for always getting so stuck up around you.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything… but enjoy your meal.”, with that, Wanda left a flushed Natasha stood in the compound’s kitchen.
The widow took another look at your, no her, plate. And after a year, she still can’t wrap her head around it:
What was she going to do about you?
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ncis-nerd · 6 months ago
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Breaking Point
older!nat x reader
warnings: anxiety, sleeping problems, mentally exhausted, crying, hints of mental illness?, age difference, petnames, spilled water, arguing, wet clothes, burnout?
grey november au
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"And I think we have space in our budget to do such a thing" Tony shrugged. You had another meeting and the earth's mightiest heroes could not agree upon how they wanted to spend the extra money they had.
You sighed softly, waiting for something solid so you could go back to note-taking. Natasha's eyes fell on you, after listening to Tony and Steve's back and forth.
"You okay" She mouthed, seeing your eyes drop. You were so tired, your anxiety had been worse lately and you couldn't sleep. Scratch that, you wanted to sleep but you were so busy with other work.
"I think we should take 5 before we have another situation guys.." Natasha side eyed Steve. "Hey! It wasn't my genius idea to use the metal suits" Steve rolled his eyes at Tony. Tony shrugged and said "sure, I could go for some water. Y/n?" His eyes fell on you.
Silence. "Yeah, can you get some for me and y/n too, please?" Natasha spoke up.
It was just you and Natasha in the room when she came over to you. She bent down, to your level to meet your gaze. "Dove?" Natasha spoke softly, the feeling of concern hinted in her voice.
"talia' m so tired.." you whimpered, raising your teary eyes to meet hers. It hurt her to see you in such distress. "Oh detka.." Natasha sighed, wrapping her arms around yours.
"I know you have sleeping problems.. Maybe we can talk to Bruce about that? Get you on sleeping pills?" Natasha spoke carefully, not sure on where you stood about on taking meds.
You nodded; you were open to just about anything because you were reaching to your breaking point. That is if, we weren't there already.
Natasha's fingers found its place in your hair, scratching your scalp softly.
__
Tony and Steve walked back into the room, both men holding 2 overfilled glasses of water. They walked very slow, attempting to not spill any.
You were sitting next to Natasha when they returned, neither men commented on this. Instead, they took their seats. Tony began to speak "Y/N? Remind me, where did we leave off?" Your eyes glanced at the notes on your computer. "Metal suits? The budget, we were brainstorming on what the spend the money on" You spoke softly, Natasha rested her hand on your thigh as a measure to comfort you and let you know she is here.
"Ah yes, the budget! As I was saying, I need some money for spare parts!" Tony exclaimed. Steve butted in "You already have a bunch of suits, how much more could you possibly need? " Steve huffed. As the two continued to argue, you picked up your cup to take a sip of water. Unfortunately it was filled to the max and you ended up spilling it all over you.
This caught the attention of Steve and Tony, distracting them from their argument. "I-" You stuttered. "And this concludes the end of the meeting. Steve, Tony, lets maybe not spend the whole meeting arguing next time?" Natasha jumped in, dismissing the tow men.
Steve and Tony left the conference room first. Before you could tear up, Natasha took your hand and let you to her room. "I think you need a warm, smoothing bath, babe. You need to relax, I'll run the bath and prep everything. Is that okay, dove?" Natasha spoke softly, her eyes meeting yours. You nodded.
taglist: @ssa-shaylam @madamevirgo @radcherryblossompainter @midastouch013 @dumbasslesbi @krystallevine @ellieromanov @fxckmiup @viosblog112-
part 2?
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natsgrave · 6 months ago
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THE PHOTOGRAPHER AND ACTRESS | scarlett johansson
big reputation, you and me, we'd be a big conversation. it's like your eyes are liquor, it's like your body is gold. you've been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks, so here's the truth from my red lips. i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! masterlist whispers of heartache m.list
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Y/N'S POV
I'm here today taking pictures for an event, at the red carpet.
My bestfriend is a famous actor and well me, I'm a professional photographer.
If you're wondering who's my bestfriend is, it's the Scarlett fucking Johansson. we met—well, bumped into eachother a few years ago causing her to accidentally spill the coffee she's holding all over my shirt and keep apologising even I told her that it was okay.
She took me out for dinner as apology. I declined at first but she kept telling me that even if I don't want to, she's still gonna take me out. so I said yes, and after that we just instantly click.
Now, we're bestfriends.
Oh, oh, wait, let me tell you a secret. She's also my girlfriend, cool right? I know!
Everyone knows that she's in a relationship but we actually didn't tell the public except our close friends and family that it was me, the public knows that we're just really close friends.
As I keep taking pictures of other celebrities, she finally arrived.
Fucking goddess. She looks ethereal and she's mine. My scarlett, my girlfriend.
She keep looking around until her eyes landed on me and gave me her gorgeous smile. I could die now. Right here, right now.
She walked towards the middle and everyone starts shouting her name.
"Over here, Scarlett!"
"Look to the right!"
"Scarlett, look over here!"
"To the left!"
There's lot of people shouting her name but she just stood still and look into my camera. Posing for only my camera, for me.
What the fuck?
All the other photographers are now looking at me. I took the camera away from my eye and glared at her before I mouthed 'stop.'
But instead of stopping and posed for others, she just smiled before walking away. I heard everyone whispering and some look at me and mutter a 'what the fuck.'
"I'm sorry." I smiled and start packing up.
"I'm gonna beat your ass, motherfucker." I muttered as I go behind the red carpet.
I passed a security and asked me what I need, "Hi! Sorry, I just need some photos with miss Johansson for our program, is that alright?"
"Wait here." He said and walked towards Scarlett who's standing with some friends.
The security talked to her until he pointed at me, smile form into her face before walking over, "Thank you, sir." I said before pulling Scarlett to the corner, out of anyone's eye.
"What was that back there!?" I whisper shout.
"What? I was posing." She casually said. "Yeah, for me. Only for my camera! You can't—" I didn't even get to finish my sentenced when she kissed me. How rude.
"You can't blame me, you're the only one I see." Scarlett said before kissing me once again.
"Stop kissing me, someone might see." I said and playfully gave her a glare.
"Alright, okay, fine. Can I atleast have a hug?" She asked, giving me her best puppy eyes and arms wide open.
I rolled my eyes and hugged her. I felt her pulling me even closer and pressing me to her body.
"Scar?" I whisper.
"Hmm?"
"You're hugging me because you want to feel my boobs, right?"
"Yeah."
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very short one. feedback and reblog is highly appreciated!
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animasola86 · 9 days ago
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F o r g e t f u l 🎀 1 / 4
Your roommate has a dirty secret - you. The only problem is: you can't remember anything about that. And there might be even more problems when you realize just what kind of relationship you have with her.
a dominant woman X a submissive girl with a memory problem
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WARNINGS: F!Reader-insert! NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Mistress/pet. Domme/sub. Memory loss. Manipulation. Gaslighting. Praise kink. Dubcon elements. Fingering. Sex toys. Object insertion. Bondage. (More tags on AO3.) WORDS: 5.5k
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A/N: Remember: if these tags are not for you, you better turn back now! If you know my other stories, you may be used to my very explicit writing style, but this is still some of the darker stuff, somewhat. It's rough, but there is an actual wlw story buried beneath the depravity, I swear! And: THIS IS FICTION! Nobody got hurt in the making of this series. (By the way, the header is just for aesthetics, it's up to you to decide how Mistress looks like and obviously Reader looks however you want to insert her. I tried my best to keep her neutral.) Another note on the fandom tags: I write characters who could be anyone, so I thought about some kick-ass ladies who may fit the role here. I'm sorry this is not about your favorite character, but maybe it can still somewhat fit? Give it a try :)
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You're staring at the pictures with your lips parted and trembling, your cheeks warm, a strange tingle in your nape. Your hands are shaking as you file through the prints. They look weirdly professional, good lighting, even better angles, the background is blurry while the focus lies directly on...
You.
It's you in those photographs, you in various positions, you in different outfits... or with nothing at all hiding your curves. Some pictures are just showing certain body parts, some angles you've never seen of yourself, some more flattering than others.
But whatever you see, you can't hide the fact that it arouses you. It's not the subject, you're usually quite self-conscious about taking nudes of yourself (even though you gotta admit that these look quite well made, so surreal that you feel almost proud of yourself), it's actually two things that make your core throb:
One: you are in clearly compromising positions, bent over with your legs spread wide, on your back, bound to the bed with cuffs around your wrists and ankles, or tied up with soft-looking rope in intricate patterns, your body composed in ways you haven't thought possible (or comfortable).
And two: you are always stuffed. There are various objects sticking out of both your cunt and your ass, sometimes there's even something in your mouth that's held open by a spider gag. It varies too, not all holes are occupied all the time, all at once, in some pictures it's just one and it's particularly stuffed and stretched (is that an eggplant?).
Your body reacts more and more as you flip through the thick printed paper. The worst thing about it all:
You can't remember a goddamn thing!
Shame and arousal course through you as you stare at yourself. But you can't put them down, can't stop. In this photo, you're wearing a black leather harness that accentuates your breasts. You're standing, with wide legs, a spreader bar attached to your ankles. You're blindfolded, your arms tied behind your back. It's a series of pictures, you realize.
First from the front, then from the back (your ass cheeks look great with how they're pushed up by the leather straps). You notice something shiny between them: a butt plug with a sparkly diamond base. It's glowing, or blinking as you see in the next picture where the light is gone.
Your insides convulse a little, your muscles clenching around nothing. It's like looking at porn, but you can't ignore the familiarity about the body portrayed. It is undoubtedly yours.
But then again: you've never had anything up your ass, not in your conscious state at least. But here (and in those other pics) you have, and the next print even shows a close-up of the plug in your ass. It's a strangely aesthetic photo considering the unflattering motif and angle, but it certainly does things to you. Though you can't be sure if the tension in your stomach comes from embarrassment, excitement or sheer terror at the revelation that somebody took these pictures of you – and you can't even remember it.
Swallowing hard, you pry your eyes from the prints, your hands still shaking, as you look around the room. Somebody can only be one person. Your gaze scrapes over the shelves around you, full of camera equipment, old-fashioned film containers next to a plastic box full of SD-cards, various lenses and other extras, and then the cameras themselves, three at least, behind glass doors, kept away, like the pictures you found in a large brown envelope hiding in a drawer.
You've been looking for some hair ties, an innocent search, knowing your roommate wouldn't mind, but now you feel as if you've stepped into a different world, uncovering secrets you should have never known about. Even if they are about you.
Taking a shuddering breath, you look back at the pictures in your hands, your cheeks positively aflame now as you trace the blurry lines of your body before the focus shifts to a close-up of your cunt, shiny and reddened, your clit swollen, with black clamps attached to your pussy lips, thin metal chains disappearing off to the sides, holding your folds open while something black and girthy vanishes into your body.
The next pictures show a white-gloved hand gripping the base of the dildo, and you flip quicker through the sheets to create the motion, seeing the toy going in and out of your cunt, guided by the anonymous hand, spreading your core, diving in to retreat with an extra layer of shine before disappearing again, and as you stare at the prints, you can almost feel it moving inside you, a faint memory as your muscles clench and unclench, your arousal building up before it drips into your underwear.
You are torn between being very horny upon seeing these pictures and utterly disturbed. If you could only remember these scenes, then it wouldn't be as bad. But you can't. There's nothing, only fog that slips through your mind's imaginary fingers as you try to catch it, as you try to make sense of this. You feel your heart beating faster while your eyes tear up from staring unblinkingly at the prints in your hands.
This can't be real. Confusion merges with betrayal, your belly feels tense, your heart clenches in rhythm with your walls, your throat closes up as the first tear spills from your lashes.
You let go of the pictures, watching them scatter over the desk and down to the floor, every angle of your body on display, every inch captured in embarrassing detail, your holes filled or gaping, your mouth gagged or stuffed or open, there's drool, there are tears, there's wetness glistening on your skin in almost every shot. Your eyes may be the scariest part staring up at you. They're either glazed over, unfocused, or rolled back and hooded, some bloodshot, some watery, and some look almost defiant, a moment captured in time where you seemingly fought back?
The ones where you're blindfolded are the least terrifying, those are the ones where you can dissociate, where you can imagine somebody else being tied to whatever surfaces there are, tables, benches, beds, chairs, artfully presented, where it's just a body, clad in sexy lingerie and high heels, or adorned with ropes, or in the moments after where the skin is dented by the intricate patterns left behind by the ties.
The close-ups are also getting to you. You've never seen your own cunt or ass up close like this, so again, it could be anyone's holes filled and spread and used by various objects. The sheer amount and variety of them is quite concerning. But it's the unconventional ones that make you shiver, that create that tension in your stomach. The cucumber pushed deep into your ass so only its thinner stalk or whatever its called pokes out. The wide eggplant parting your labia in an obscene fashion, its entire body stuffed into your cunt, creating a slight bulge in your lower stomach.
There's another stack of photos atop a large envelope (the whole drawer seems to be dedicated to just you), and your curiosity gets the better of you after all. It's a series of pictures showing different round objects pushed into your holes. From marbles to ping pong balls to actual tennis balls, they're all shown vanishing into either your ass or your cunt, pushed by a delicate finger clad in a white glove, one after the other, and you can only assume how many would actually fit. It's not a video, you can't be sure, but you can imagine whoever did this to you didn't stop at just one.
Indeed they didn't, as the next photo shows. Another set of hands, also wearing white gloves, is grabbing your ass cheeks and pulling them apart, making your sphincter wink at the camera, before, in the next shot, your hole is gaping, allowing a strange view inside, rosy flesh stuffed with white little balls (you can see at least three, but more are hinted at behind them). You feel a little sick looking at the rest of the series of pictures, where they come back out as your hole puckers, pushing and pushing.
Your body reacts in earnest, your muscles clenching around nothing, deep shivers crashing down your spine. You flip past more of these kinds of photos, until you stop when you see white-gloved fingers poking at your cunt, spreading your lips, gathering your slick that glistens on the surface of the latex gloves, and you let out an audible gasp when the next picture doesn't show them push in, but shows only a wrist (attached to a slender arm) poking out of your stretched hole, gripped by tight skin, suggesting the entire hand is stuck inside you.
Your stomach gives a nervous growl at the sight, your breath hitching in your throat. You swallow thickly, your nostrils flaring as you force yourself to breathe through your nose to calm yourself. The stack of pictures shakes in your hands as you flip through more extreme insertions, more vegetables, some fruits, an entire apple made it up your cunt apparently, while they went from using one cucumber in your ass to at least three, stretching your rim impossibly wide. The sight alone makes your asshole clench violently, and you wonder why you never felt sore after being stuffed so full and spread so wide.
But your body seemingly adjusted, returned to its former state, unharmed, giving no hints at what actually happened to you. Strange. It's almost as if this happened to somebody else after all. But it didn't. It is your body. You may not know your cunt or ass up close, but you recognize the rest, your boobs, your arms, your belly, your legs, your feet, the birthmarks that make you you. It is you in these pictures, in every single one.
Only you.
A strangled sob escapes you as you look over the desk, seeing more and more envelopes, hiding in plain sight, more prints, some smaller, some bigger, all filled with motifs of your body being used in various fashions, one more degrading than the next. Shame settles low in your stomach, like a heavy weight that makes it hard to breathe. Your head is spinning, blood rushing in your ears so loudly you are startled back into reality as you suddenly hear the creaking of the door.
Footsteps follow, before someone clears their throat.
You whip around, dropping the last pictures you were holding, more shots of your stuffed cunt, wet and glistening as it's assaulted by more household items. Your eyes widen when you see your roommate in the door frame, a smug smile on her beautiful face as she crosses her arms over her chest.
“Oh hi,” she says in a nonchalant tone, tilting her head. “What are you doing here, pet?” she adds, and you frown at the nickname, a strange sensation crashing through your nerves.
“I... uh... I was looking for...” you stammer, taking a step away from the desk and the mess you made by dropping all those prints. “A hair tie,” you whisper breathlessly, curling your shaking hands into fists as you stare at her. “What... what are these? Did you take them?” you then ask, your voice trembling as much as your shoulders while you look from her back to the discriminating evidence you found by accident.
Your roommate sighs, unfolding her arms as she walks towards you. She's taller than you, slender and still curvy in the right places, her long hair falling over her slim shoulders. You force yourself to look into her eyes and not get distracted by the cleavage her tight dress creates or how close she is. She stops right in front of you, looking down, a softer looking smile curling her full lips.
“You know I did,” she says quietly, reaching up a hand to caress your cheek with the back of her finger. You shiver under the touch, but don't flinch away. “You agreed to this, remember?”
“No,” you breathe out, blinking quickly as you feel tears welling up in your eyes.
She clicks her tongue, shaking her head. “Shh, it's okay, pet, don't worry. You did. I would never do anything to harm you,” she whispers, leaning closer until you feel her hot breath on your lips. “You wanted to be my muse, you begged me for it,” she adds, biting her lip sensually before leaning in to press her warm mouth to the corner of yours.
You stiffen, eyes widening, your heart nearly exploding in your chest. You can't remember any of this. Why is she saying that? She is just your roommate!
You moved in only a few months ago, replying to an ad you saw on the bulletin board of your college dorm. A cheap room in a good neighborhood, your own room, away from the distractions of having to live with people you don't like or know that well, it sounded too good to be true. But it was true, and the woman looking for roommates was so nice, so enticing. You met her at a neutral place, to get to know her (fall for her charm), before she showed you the apartment, and you moved in later that week.
It was perfect. Until it wasn't. Not that you noticed it right away. You just never saw her. Now that you thought about it, you can only (barely) remember going to your classes (you are still going to your classes, right?), while the rest of the day is somewhat of a blur. You can't, however, remember going to your job at the coffee shop (do you still have a job? How are you paying for this place?), and the more you try to remember, the more holes come up, black and all-consuming.
You frown as you stare at her. She leans back slowly, watching you. Her hand is on your face, the pointy nail of her thump scraping over your bottom lip as her long fingers caress the shell of your ear.
“No need to worry, pet,” she says quietly, her voice a low soft thrum, rich like honey, that tickles something inside you that you've fought all your life. Why does she keep calling you 'pet'? And why does it affect you so much? “Everything is just fine. And I'm not even mad that you just went into my room like this. I told you you shouldn't, didn't I?”
You swallow as she lowers her hand and closes it around your throat, giving it a gentle squeeze. You feel your pulse throbbing against her palm. “I'm sorry,” you gasp out.
She smiles at you, moving her hand even lower, teasing her fingertips along the neckline of your shirt. “It's okay. You know the consequences. It'll be fine.” You furrow your eyebrows, breathing harder, not understanding anything. “Not the first time, hm?” she adds, giving you a wink. Her words make no sense, your head is hurting with how tight you pull your eyebrows together, and with all the thoughts and questions whirling about in a wild dance of confusion.
“I... I don't –”
“Shh,” she shushes you, her hand gripping your chin. You freeze. “Be a good pet and go back to your room. I'll clean this up. Put on the clothes I chose for you. Wait for me when you're done. Do you understand?”
You stare at her, your body tensing up, your cunt clenching hard around nothing. Her words, the cadence of her voice, the dominant tone, it all brings you to do one thing, your mind emptying as words spill from your trembling lips. “Yes, Mistress.”
You don't even know where these came from. Mistress? Pet? What is going on? But your body moves on auto-pilot, your mind swirling, still fighting the confusion, but also easing into a strange void, triggered by words you've heard before, or so it feels, commands you've answered many times in the past.
She lets go of your chin, giving you a warm smile, even though her eyes are dark and somewhat cold, and you nod, bow your head and shuffle out of the room, your legs trembling as you make your way back into your bedroom across the hall.
For a moment you're wondering how you got here, why you're here, but then your gaze falls onto a pile of clothes on your bed. You walk closer, picking up item after item. A short black skirt, pleated, barely long enough to not be considered a belt. A tight tank top, white and almost see-through. A set of fancy black underwear, a lace bra with an intricate flower pattern, a thong of similar design. There's also a pair of sheer black stockings, a garter belt and straps to attach each piece together.
Your stomach tenses at the sight. You've seen these pieces before, in the photos you shouldn't have seen. It's a blur how you put them on, your head spinning, your hands shaking, but you still somehow manage to dress in time before you hear footsteps on the floorboards outside your room. Your heart beats faster, your chest heaving, tight in the bra and top, straining, something cold crashing down your spine before it gathers hot and pulsing right between your legs.
Before the creaking of the door announces your roommate, you suddenly fall to your knees, your feet tucked under your rear, your hands automatically finding purchase in your lap, folded neatly as you stretch your back and square your shoulders, breathing deep as you train your eyes straight ahead, waiting for the door to open. You have no idea what made you assume this position, why it feels so familiar, so safe in a way.
Your roommate (your Mistress) enters your bedroom, her high heels thudding over the carpet as she walks up to you, tilting her head as she watches you closely. “Stand,” she says, and you do, your legs moving seemingly on their own. Once you stand, stiff with your arms pressed to your sides, chest pushed out, your neck straight, eyes wandering over the tall frame in front of you, she nods. “See? You haven't forgotten. Good girl,” she says, and the praise shoots through you like a pistol shot, straight into your clit, making it throb and ache, your heart beating in the same hurried rhythm.
She walks around you then, her long fingers brushing over your bare arms, around your shoulders, down your spine, until she gives your ass a soft slap, making you gasp quietly. She repeats the motion, but this time, she leaves her hand on your cheek for a moment, squeezing it, her fingernails digging into your soft skin. You stiffen, breathing a little harder.
“You're so beautiful,” she whispers as she leans into you, looming behind you, her breath ghosting your jaw. “My perfect little muse.”
You feel her lips brushing against the soft spot behind your ear, a hot kiss that makes you shiver, while her hand gropes your ass, fingertips teasing at the thin fabric of your thong tucked between your cheeks.
Suddenly she leans back, lets go of you, and you hear her walking a few steps before she stops, a deep sigh echoing through the room. You turn around slowly, unsure if you should, but when you do, you freeze as you watch her pick up the glass of water on your bedside table.
“Baby, I told you to drink more,” she says with a tilt of her head. “You always forget, hm? So busy, head always in the clouds...” She walks back to you, holding the glass in front of you, her eyes boring into yours as she waits for you to grab it. You do, your hands shaking. “Drink up, pretty girl. You know you need it.”
She's so caring, you think as you bring the water to your lips, holding her gaze, but as soon as you feel the cold liquid running down your tight throat, an image flickers before your eyes. Your roommate (Mistress) sitting on your bed, moving a clear glass straw in a stirring motion, swirling the water, making a faint sheen of powder disappear. You feel as if you've watched her do that many times. What is that? What did she put in here? Vitamins? Or something else?
But you can't even question it further, can't find the courage to ask, when you realize you've drank the whole thing, every drop of water (and whatever else was in there) now in your stomach. “Good girl,” she praises and smiles at you, before she takes the glass from your clammy fingers and puts it back on your bedside table. “Now let's get you ready for our big night out, yeah?”
You frown, another faint memory peeking through the fog in your head. It seems to be getting thicker now. Strange. But this image, you still see somewhat clearly before you. You had plans tonight, you remember now, you wanted to go out. Where? No idea. But you needed a hair tie. Yeah. That's why you went into your roommate's room in the first place. Some details are blurry (were you supposed to go out with her? Have you done that before? Why would you? You barely know the woman...), but somehow they don't matter anymore.
She steps back in front of you, her fingers vanishing in the cleavage of her dress before she pulls something from between her breasts. You blink in confusion as you recognize the shape. It's a metal butt plug. And she stored it between her boobs? Interesting.
“Open wide, pet,” she tells you, and without even questioning it, you part your lips and let your tongue roll out. She looks pleased as she puts the rounded object into your mouth. It's warm, and the taste triggers something else in you. Another familiar sensation. It's her, you know without knowing, her taste, sweet and a bit salty, exploding on your tongue, sinking deep, causing soft shivers to crash down your spine, something hot gathering low in your gut.
You've had your face on her chest before, huh? Must be. Your cheeks burn up badly, your breaths loud through your nose as you suckle on the butt plug between your lips, your eyes scanning the pretty face looking down at you. She keeps her fingers on the base, pushing the object in and out, and you find yourself licking around it, coating it in your saliva. Like you've done before. You think.
She watches you before she lets go of the plug and puts her palm over your mouth. “Keep it nice and warm for me, okay?” she says, leaning closer until her nose brushes against yours. You give a jerking nod, tightening your lips around the narrowest part of the plug while its body rests hard and heavy on your tongue. “Good.”
You feel saliva pooling in your mouth, and the urge to swallow becomes stronger. But you focus on the woman in front of you as she straightens up again, her hands on her hips. Her whole presence, her aura, has you in its grip, you feel, it's impossible to fight it, to protest, to do anything except the things she demands of you. All it takes is a look, a word, her voice driving through you like an electric current that controls your every limb.
And so you move when she tells you to turn around and bend over, and as you rest on your forearms on the edge of your bed, she nudges your legs apart and steps between them, her hands sliding under your skirt and pushing it up. You stiffen slightly, breathing harder, your heart thundering inside your chest, but you can't object, you don't want to. You just endure.
And a tiny part of you, through the fog in your head, lights up, a growing heat that creeps down your spine, tenses in your stomach, seeps lower until it gathers in your core, scorching, wet, and it's all you feel when she pushes your thong aside and moves her fingers along your slit, dipping gently between your puffy lips and into your slick, the loud squelching noise making your ears burn.
She prods at your entrance, teases your clit, but then she moves up again, and without warning or command or reassuring words pokes right against your puckered hole, and as you gasp around the plug in your mouth, flinching slightly, she stretches your rim and pushes into your ass, a slim finger, a pointy fingernail, digging against your tense muscles. In and out it goes until there are two fingers, then three, and it burns, the friction too much, like little daggers poking at your nerves.
“Come on, pet, relax,” she says from behind you, moving her fingers deeper, curling them, pushing and prodding against protesting muscles. “You've done this before. You're a pro at this, remember?”
Her words bring up the hazy memories of the pictures you saw, of the various items wedged into your tight ass, and some just don't make sense. Three cucumbers? Really? While it already feels like too much when she 'only' has three slim fingers inside you? How did you manage that? Your stomach gives a distant growl as drool slips past your tight lips and onto your bed.
“Fine, I'll lube you up this time,” she sighs and removes her fingers with a strangely wet pop. This time? She doesn't usually? It's almost as if you can remember the pain of the dry friction, but then why can you never remember any soreness afterwards? Confusion lingers on your mind as you hear her footsteps leaving the room.
You remain in your bent-over position, your hands clawing at the sheets as you suckle mindlessly on the metal plug in your mouth, trying to make sense of it all. You come to no conclusion whatsoever when she eventually returns, and you hear the squirt of some liquid before you can feel it. Large dollops of something cold pressing against your tight hole. You groan against the object between your lips as she pushes deeper, her fingers, slick and cold, sliding in and out again.
This time she stretches your hole by scissoring her fingers, knuckles digging into your tense muscles, and you hear another squirt and something cold lands on your hot skin, slipping right into you. You shiver, goosebumps breaking out on your exposed skin. She keeps doing that, filling you up with more and more lube, you assume, her fingers pushing it deep, coating your insides. It's a strange sensation, but again, this feels somewhat familiar, and triggers more memories you seem to have suppressed before, or forgotten.
You see yourself strapped to a reclining chair, your legs raised up in some sort of stirrups, ankles tied and wrists bound to the armrests. You're naked, and she is kneeling between your wide open legs in front of a large plastic bucket or something like it, and there's a tube inside your ass, something cold (water?) pressing through it and into you, and you see and feel it filling you up, your stomach bulging, and you feel sick, your insides cramping, but you can't say anything, there's a gag in your mouth, so all you can do is squirm in your restraints, until you feel a different sort of pain as she slaps your mound with a force that makes you cry out, makes you flinch remembering it, and she keeps at it, hitting your clit with precise blows until it's all puffy and throbbing badly, and you throw your head back and whine helplessly, your belly still bulging, filling up, while her voice coos into your ear:
“You want to be clean, pet, don't you? So we gotta clean you up properly. You don't want to be dirty for our guests, now do you?”
You frown deeply as those words echo in your cloudy head. Guests? But the question vanishes slowly, replaced by the sensation of her fingers digging deep into your ass, spreading more lube, and in the back of your mind you're just glad she isn't giving you another enema. A strange thought to have, but it makes sense in the dizziness that holds you hostage. Breathing harder, you press your forehead into the bed, swallowing hard around the plug in your mouth.
As she works on (in) your ass, you start to feel a tingle in your neglected pussy, a spasm deep within, a little clench, a needy little urge, and instead of holding still, you find yourself grinding your rear into her hand. She stops immediately, a deep sigh escaping her as she pulls her fingers out of your ass and grips your nape with her wet hand. You shiver and stiffen, holding your breath as she pulls you into a standing position.
Her free hand grabs the base of the plug and pulls it out of your mouth where it clangs against your teeth, causing you to flinch. You swallow the excess spit and take a shuddering breath as you feel the warm metal pressing between your ass cheeks. With how she worked you open, it slips in easily enough, and your muscles clench slightly around its narrow neck, but it's only after she smacks your soft cheek a few times in rapid succession, making you whine and shudder as your skin tightens, that you're tensing up enough to hold it in place.
She lets go of you and spins you around, then holds out her hand to you, her fingers glistening in lube and your own wetness. “Clean,” she says, and even though your stomach makes a loud grumble of protest, you find yourself leaning in and closing your lips around her slim fingers. A strange taste of artificial strawberry and something else, something tangy and your own, floods your senses, but you close your eyes and flick your tongue around her digits, focusing on the task and not on the taste and the origin of it.
Eventually she pulls her hand away and pats your cheek, leaving a trail of saliva on your warm skin. Your eyes flutter open as she leans around you and adjusts your thong, pulling it back in place, then pushes your skirt down again. Her eyes meet yours, the gaze intense, creating another soothing wave of heat that rolls over you gently, that makes you clench around the plug in your butt. A smile grazes her full lips, and you find yourself smiling back.
“Alright, now put your hair up, get your shoes and your coat, and wait by the front door,” she tells you as she steps away, holding your gaze until you nod obediently. Your mind is reeling at this point, confusion and arousal warring inside of you. What is happening?
You don't know, and you don't seem to care too much either as you start moving, following her orders. You end up on your knees again, right by the door, waiting like a dog, and the image couldn't have been more fitting when you see her approaching with a strange leather band in her hands. You blink when she crouches down before you and fixes what you can only assume is a collar around your neck. It sits tight enough to notice it, but you can still breathe freely and swallow against it without it restricting you in any way.
You're still confused why you need this (and why you accept it so easily). Your roommate (Mistress) cups your face and looks at you with a warm gaze that makes you bite your lip, her hands rubbing over your cheeks before she tugs her thumbs under your chin and lifts it so she can lean in and press her lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut as you part your lips and meet her tongue, the kiss deep and soft, gentle gliding of tongues and lips, a warm gesture, sending sparks through your nerves that make you throb with a need that feels both familiar and eerily unknown, frightening.
A single thought ricochets through your empty head: You would do anything for this woman.
“My beautiful pet,” she whispers against your tingling lips, the tip of her tongue tracing the corner of your mouth. “Are you ready?”
Without thinking, without wondering what for, you nod eagerly, a breathless “Yes, Mistress.” leaving your swollen lips. She gives you another peck and stands up then, snapping her fingers in a way that leaves no room for interpretation. You stand immediately, swaying slightly on the high heels you were told to wear. You're still smaller than her, but having to look up only amplifies the sensation coursing through you. Your devotion for her.
She grabs a large bag and shoves it into your hands, and you know by the weight and feel of it, that it holds camera equipment. A distant memory shimmers behind your glassy eyes, of stumbling into her room, finding those envelopes in the drawer of her desk, of flipping through countless pictures of your naked body, of your holes being stuffed and stretched, of being tied down, of letting her do with you whatever she wants. What has disturbed you earlier is barely worth a flinch now.
It's what you do. It's what you are. Her muse. Her pet. She chose you and you obey. It's what you do, it's what she does. She's your Mistress, after all.
1 🎀 2 🎀 3 🎀 4
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End notes: Yes, our dominant lady here is indeed inspired by a character from my other (m/f) Dom/sub story: Infatuated: Mistress.
By the way, a little disclaimer at the end here as we go to the next (heavier) chapters: I am not a BDSM professional or expert, I am a writer with a dirty mind and access to the Internet. This is fiction, gaslighting people is bad, consent is very important, but when a hot lady tells you to do something, you gotta do it, that's the law (jk). Please see this as what it is: a fantasy and nothing more.
Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Saturday!
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MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS
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msmk11 · 5 months ago
Text
A Way to Relax
Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
WC: 1k
CW: Literally just fluff and a few sexual references
Summary: When Natasha returns from a mission, you want to help her relax (get your head out of the gutter, it's not in that way)
Part 3 of mk’s mad dash
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Your wife’s job is unpredictable- completely random operation hours, coming home late and waking up before the sun, and a constant smattering of mysterious bumps, bruises, and cuts scattered across her skin. Though its unpredictably is certainly not one of its perks, you both know how important Natasha’s job is, so you make the necessary sacrifices. You two also put in the extra effort to maintain the spark in your relationship despite her work.
While Nat can be gone for days at a time, other times she’s home for many weeks uninterrupted. Your wife absolutely takes advantage of this time to completely and utterly spoil you with gifts, nights out on the town, and lots of cuddling, kisses, and sex. In Natasha’s absence, you demonstrate your love in little ways like carrying the weight of the household chores or sending cute good morning and goodnight texts. But your favorite way to spoil Nat is with extra special treatment anytime she returns from missions. Undoubtedly, she is always tired and beat up when she returns home, a little worse for the wear than when you’d have last seen her. 
Tonight is one of those nights, Natasha finally coming home after being gone on a mission for two weeks. She’ll be home late enough that there’s no point in making her dinner, but not too late for the little treat you have planned for her. You’ve found a home on your big, gray couch in the living room, already dressed in one of Nat’s t-shirts and your pj shorts for bed. One of your favorite movies is playing in the background while you anxiously await your wife’s arrival. You’ve missed her desperately, and you can’t wait to hug her, hold her, and kiss her. 
The jingle of keys in your door goes unnoticed with the tv drowning it out, but you certainly don’t miss the squeak of the door and the heavy footfalls of your wife. 
“Ditya, I’m home,” your wife’s raspy voice calls out. 
You nearly squeal as you launch yourself off the couch and run down the hall to your front door. When Natasha sees you she drops her bag and spreads her arms. You jump into her embrace, wrapping your arms around her neck and your legs around her waist. She barely stumbles despite your momentum and grips your thighs tightly. 
“I’ve missed you so much baby,” you mumble into her neck. Then, you place a tender kiss there. 
She eases your face out of her neck, looking at you with so much tenderness, “there’s my milaya devushka.”
You blush rather prettily and place a tender kiss on your wife’s soft, sweet lips. You’re so happy to have her lips slotted against your own again and her flowery perfume invading your senses.
You hum contentedly and reach up to cup Natasha’s cheek, “Missed my beautiful wife,” you mumble against her skin.
She shivers, “don’t think I’ll ever get used to you calling me your wife.”
You pull away and smirk at her, “You better, cause you're stuck with me.”
The redhead rolls her eyes playfully, “shame.”
You finally hop down from her grasp and she whines a little at the loss of your touch, “While I’d love to hear about your mission, I need you to get comfy- shower, put on your pjs, whatever. I have a surprise for you.”
She cocks her eyebrow at you and smirks, “Oh really? Why didn’t you say something sooner, Ditya?”
You shrug your shoulders sheepishly, “too excited I guess.”
Natasha crinkles her nose at you, “you’re too cute.”
You huff, feigning annoyance, and put your hands on your hips, “Now off you go, I want to give you your surprise.”
She mockingly salutes you and then gives you a wink, trudging up the stairs with her luggage. 
*****
A little while later Natasha comes out of your shared bathroom clad in her black pj set, wet hair brushed back out of her face. You scramble up from your side of the bed where you were laying, scrolling on your phone. 
“Ready for your surprise, baby?”
She crawls onto the bed on her hands and knees, making her way to you. She places the softest kiss on the tip of your nose, “ready, Ditya.”
“Okay, lie down on your stomach facing the end of the bed!”
She gives you a slightly perplexed look but obliges. She rests her chin on her hands, and peeks back over her shoulder, “What’re you up to?”
“Just, turn your head back around,” you huff exasperatedly, “and spread your arms out too.”
Under your breath you mumble, “so nosy.”
“Heard that, love,” she says with a quiet laugh. 
You ignore Natasha and instead climb over her, straddling her waist with your knees on either side of her.
“Baby,” she rasps, “If this is what I knew you wanted to get up to, I would’ve showered a lot quicker.”
You slap the side of her ass gently, “Get your head out of the gutter, Tasha. That’s not what this is.”
“Can’t help it when there’s a pretty girl on top of me,” she teases.
If you weren’t so determined to give her this surprise, you probably would’ve succumbed to her charms right then and there. 
Your slightly cold hands slide under her satin tank top and push it up, revealing her bare back to you. Slowly, you place pressure on her lower back, kneading soft circles into her skin. Your wife lets out a quiet breathy moan, one nearly as pretty as the ones she lets out the other times you’re on top of her. 
You work your way up her back, taking longer on particular spots where you feel a tight knot rippling under your touch. The longer you massage her, the more Natasha begins to relax, nearly sinking into the soft mattress beneath her. 
“Feels so good, milaya devushka.”
“Good, baby, I’m glad,” you tell her softly, placing a kiss right in between her shoulder blades.
“Could fall asleep right now,” she mumbles.
“Go ahead, Nat. You deserve to relax.”
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sapphic-coded · 1 year ago
Note
hey beautiful could u write about a nat x reader break up and there’s so much tension between them until they both break at a dinner party with the team and their dates 😋
Hey Friend! You're so sweet. I hope this lands somewhere in the ballpark of what you were hoping for. Thank you for the request!
No Use In You Trying, Baby
You are invited to a dinner party. Reluctantly, you go and run into your ex.
Natasha Romanoff x fem Reader
Warnings: Hurt feelings. Language Cap wouldn't approve of.
Word Count: 2.8k
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You were content to spend all your time in your lab. It was your happy place. Your playground. This was where you could think clearly, and where all your best ideas originated from. Plus, it wasn’t as if you were hiding away in some basement cut off from the outside world. Your lab at the Compound was huge and had plenty of equally huge windows that allowed plenty of bright, warm sunlight in. And if you needed to socialize, there were plenty of people who walked by your lab daily. 
But you didn’t want to socialize. You wanted to focus on your work because for the first time in months you were finally making progress. Broken equipment and weapons that had just been sitting in your lab were finally leaving polished and new. Projects that had just only been sitting nestled in the back of your mind were suddenly finding life. It was amazing what you could accomplish in a single day without any distractions. 
You rolled backwards on your black swivel chair as you stared at your notes on the yellow legal pad in your hands. You were curious what Clint would think of your idea for this new arrow. The idea had come to you last night, and you had been thinking about it ever since. The back of your chair pressed against one of the many lab tables. You lowered your notepad and turned. All thoughts regarding your new arrow idea fled at the sight of the batons laying on the table. 
You held the batons in your hands and your brow furrowed as your thumbs pressed down on the button built into the base of the weapon. The usual quiet hum of the electrical discharge was silent. You tapped both of the batons together as if that would fix the problem, but nothing changed. 
A pair of arms wrapped around you from behind. Familiar, warm hands settled against your stomach while her chin came to rest over your left shoulder. 
“I tried that too,” her voice brushed against your ear. 
You sighed as you studied the twin weapons. “It shouldn’t be too hard to fix. It’s probably a broken conductor or…” You trailed off when you felt her hands travel lower. Her fingers slipped underneath the hem of your shirt. 
Who the hell put those there? 
“Incoming call from Mr. Stark,” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice penetrated the quiet of your lab. 
You stood up and collected the batons. “Put him through.” You listened as Tony’s voice echoed throughout your lab. You carried the batons over to a growing stack of boxes running along the right side of your lab. You opened up the lid on one of the cardboard boxes as Tony went into detail about partnering up on another project he had in mind. You listened for key words while your thumb pressed down on the button at the base of one of the batons. You frowned. Still broken. 
“I also need you at the Tower tonight,” Tony said. 
You dumped the batons into the box. “Why?” 
“Because I’m throwing together a little dinner party,” Tony replied. “Just the team. We haven’t done one of those in a while.”  
“I’m busy,” your reply was automatic. 
“You finished your last official project two weeks ago.” 
“I’m working through my backlog,” you replied. 
“Fine,” Tony said. There was a moment of quiet when you wondered if he had hung up the phone. Your question was answered when you turned your back to the boxes. “I’ll be very interested to see how you manage to do that without any power.”
“You can’t be serious.” 
“Trust me, I’m wearing my serious face,” Tony replied. “I can demonstrate if you want.” 
The lights in your lab flickered.
“Fine. I’ll be there.” 
– – – 
You used to spend most of your time at Avengers Tower. This was where you got your start working for Tony Stark. When you first arrived at the Tower, you thought the labs there couldn’t get any better. You had been allowed to play around with tech you could only fantasize about. The amount of resources you had at your disposal was endless. It was fun. You loved creating weapons and upgrading equipment for the team. There were few things better than challenging yourself to create something better than the perfect project you just finished. 
When you entered the Tower, you were tempted to just go to your old floor. You hadn’t been able to move everything from your old lab to your new one at the Compound. Playing around with what you had left behind seemed like a better idea than attending a dinner party. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see the team. You did. But it hadn’t even been a month since your last conversation with Natasha. The one that had ended badly. You knew she would be here, and the last thing you wanted to do was see her. Because then everything you had been ignoring would come rushing back. You wouldn’t know what to say, and everything would just be easier if you kept your distance. 
Too bad you weren’t going to get what you wanted. 
When you reached the top floor, Tony was the first to greet you. It seemed you were the last to arrive as the rest of the team were talking amongst each other. You spotted familiar faces. Most of the team had brought along their dates. It made you want to leave even more, but you put on your best smile as you made small talk with the team. Thor was in the middle of telling you a tale of his most recent battle when you saw her. 
She was standing near the bar talking to Laura. Despite trying your best to focus on Thor’s story, you couldn’t help but notice that she looked beautiful. Then again, Natasha always looked stunning. The black dress she wore now only complimented her features. Or rather, the dress acted more like a reminder of a lost privilege. You gripped your glass of expensive wine tighter at the thought. Privilege? You hadn’t lost anything like that. Just a relationship that was bound to crash and burn. 
“...and then he went flying off the mountain,” Thor’s laugh drew your attention back to the god. “Never thought it’d end like that.” He shook his head and then took a long drink from his flask. “So, I hear you spend your time forging new weapons.”
“Uh, yeah,” you looked past Thor. Natasha smiled at something Laura had said. Stop it. You focused back on Thor and started talking about all the projects you had completed recently. You chose to only talk about the projects you knew would keep Thor’s attention: equipment upgrades, a very close to being completed laser sword, and an attempt to copy his hammer. He found that last bit very funny. 
You were grateful when everyone was summoned to the table for the actual dinner. All you had to do now was eat the food, make a tiny amount of more small talk, and then you could leave. You already had your excuses prepared. But as you approached the table, you realized that Tony had thrown a curveball your way. Tony had gone through (or rather he had someone else go through) and assigned the team seats. You already had an idea of where this was going, and your suspicion was confirmed when you found your seat right next to Natasha. 
You looked over at Tony. He winked at you, and you were tempted to leave. Instead, you sat down in your seat and set your expensive wine down on the table. You could do this. She hadn’t approached you yet this entire evening. The feeling of not wanting to interact with each other was mutual. You both could talk to other people. This was fine. 
The smell of her perfume hit you first. It grabbed hold of you and yanked you back through countless memories. You remembered the smell of jasmine with the barest hint of vanilla flooding your senses when she pulled you in for that first kiss. You remembered how your legs turned to jelly, and you were terrified that you were going to fall. You didn’t fall. Somehow, you stayed on your feet until the kiss was over. Your mind had gone blank. You had felt painfully dumb. What were you supposed to do? 
She smiled as her hands settled at your waist. “Aren’t you going to kiss me back?” 
You looked to your left as she sat down in her seat. She looked gorgeous and happy. As if nothing life altering had happened. You felt a spike of jealousy. She probably had forgotten all about you by now. Breaking off your relationship hadn’t changed anything for her. You had been right to doubt your relationship all along. You had only been a convenient fuck. You were so stupid to believe all those promises she made you. She certainly couldn’t keep many of them. 
You looked away and took a good, long drink of whatever Tony had poured into your glass. A wait staff appeared and set plates filled with delicious smelling food down in front of everyone. You set your now empty glass down, and another waiter appeared to refill it. You picked up your knife and fork and began cutting into the meat. You could do this. You should just pretend she isn’t here. Rogers was sitting to your right. You could always just make conversation with him. 
“Is this what we’re doing now?” her voice was low enough for only you to catch. 
You forced yourself to keep your focus on your plate as you continued to cut into the meat. Red juices leaked from what was probably a delicious cut of meat. “Yup.” You stabbed your fork into the tender meat and pushed it into your mouth. You chewed. Fuck. It was good. You heard her sigh, and you didn’t need to look at her to know she was also, most likely, shaking her head. 
“It’s a bad move,” she said. 
You bit back the first thought that came to mind and continued to eat. 
“This is obviously a setup. They’re trying to fix things,” she continued when you didn’t respond. 
You looked around at the table as you chewed. Everyone else was busy talking amongst themselves. You swallowed and still refused to look at her. “There’s nothing to fix.” She didn’t respond right away and you reached for your glass. Maybe this was all about to end. 
“Then I suggest we play along unless you want to go through this again,” she said. 
You set your glass down before you could take a sip and finally looked over at her. “I’m not going to play along.” You spotted the familiar look of frustration cross her face. It didn’t surprise you. Whenever you refused to go along with any of her plans, she got annoyed with you. You should have known from the very beginning that this relationship was never going to work. You felt stupid for even trying. 
“Fine. I guess I’ll see you at the next dinner party,” Natasha looked away from you.
“Don’t hold your breath,” you stabbed your fork into another piece of meat. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be too busy to attend the next one.” 
“Didn’t you already try that excuse?” she asked. 
You shoveled the piece of meat into your mouth and chewed. You didn’t bother to ask how she knew that. It was Natasha. She knew everything about you. You hated it. You hated that she was right. You hated sitting here so close to her. Every minute that passed was just more reminders of what had made you happy. It was gone, and you just wanted it all to stay dead. Why hadn’t Natasha shown up with the date? Why didn't you? You could think of a dozen ways you could have approached this whole stupid thing differently.  
“Y/N,” her voice was softer now and you felt a burning behind your eyes. 
“I can’t do this,” you heard the waver in your voice. You shouldn’t have come. You knew what would happen. You knew you would see her. You knew you would feel all these things. You weren’t sure if you couldn’t hear the other conversations happening around the table because people had stopped talking or because your quickening heart beat was now filling your ears. “I can’t.” 
You felt her hand fall over your own, and you quickly snatched your hand back and stood up. You felt the rest of the team’s eyes on you as you quickly left. You heard their voices all rise up as one, but you didn’t look back. You just needed to leave. Get some fresh air. Go back to the Compound and forget about all of this. 
Your pace quickened as you left the team behind and hurried towards the elevator. You were grateful that the doors parted immediately upon pushing the button. You stepped inside and pressed the button that would take you down to the garage. Your vision blurred and you felt a hot tear spill down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away. Stupid. This had been stupid. The doors started to close and just when you thought your escape was complete, Natasha slipped into the elevator. 
The doors shut completely and you shook your head. “No.” Your hand reached out towards the panel of buttons. You went to push the button that would force the elevator doors back open, but Natasha grabbed your hand before you could. “Let go, Nat. I’m not going back to that stupid party.” 
“That’s not why I’m here,” she said and released your hand the moment the elevator began to descend. 
Your hand dropped back down to your side. “Then why are you here?” You realized that was the wrong question to ask as her red lips parted to answer. You shook your head. “No! No. I don’t want to know. Just leave me alone.” 
She took a small step closer to you, and you instinctively stepped back and felt your back pressed against the cool wall of the elevator. “You’re not even going to give me a chance?” 
“A chance to do what? Lure me back to your side with more fake promises of some happy life together? You can’t use that bullshit on me anymore. I was just a convenient fuck for you,” you felt another tear slip, and you used the back of your hand to wipe it away. 
“You broke up with me,” she argued. 
“Because you pushed me away,” your voice wavered again, and you hated it. “Every time I tried to help or understand, you kept me out. The only time you let me in was when you wanted to fuck me. The only time you wanted me around was if you wanted to have sex with me. I wasn’t your girlfriend. I was your toy.” 
“I know.”
You were ready for anything. You had replayed all your arguments in your head hundreds of times. You were ready for any of her arguments. Except for that. Those two words caught you completely off guard. 
“I messed up,” she said. “And I’m sorry.”
What was happening? This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. You were supposed to argue back and forth until you were both spent and upset and eager to get away from each other. 
“Please let me try again.”
She had somehow managed to get even closer to you. Her voice was soft, and her olive green eyes were searching your face. She was trying to gauge your emotions. You could only wonder what she saw because you didn’t know how to feel. Tears still threatened to spill down your cheeks from all the pain you had been shoving down these past few weeks. Walking away from her had hurt so much. Because you did love her, and it had killed you to realize that she didn’t love you. 
You wanted to leap at this chance. You wanted it so badly, but you were hesitant. You had barely been able to walk away from her last time. You weren’t sure you would be able to do it again if all of this happened again. But you wanted to believe it wouldn’t. You wanted to believe that there was still some life in this dying husk of a relationship. 
You didn’t realize what had happened until her lips were pressed against yours. It felt like your first kiss all over again, only better. It felt familiar. The kiss was soft but needy. It reminded you of all the other ways she had kissed you before. The smell of her perfume flooded your senses, and you just wanted to collapse into her arms. You were tired of being angry. Tired of being upset. You wanted this. The kiss ended far too soon, and you started to lean forward to chase her retreating lips. 
You saw her smile when the elevator reached the garage floor, and the doors opened. You didn’t make any move to leave. Instead, you waited for the elevator doors to close before you leaned forward to kiss her back. 
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katyaromanoffpetrova · 9 months ago
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The only fool on April Fools'
Natasha thought she came up with the best prank ever. But she forgot exactly who she was trying to prank.
• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 2.7k • Warnings: suggestive talk Masterlist
Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!
A/N: a late birthday post from me :)
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2028
Natasha could not stop looking at her hands on the steering wheel. More specifically, she couldn't stop looking at her nails. Every time they caught her eye when she went to change the song on the radio or flick her blinker, the smuggest smirk took over her entire face.
She'd been thinking long and hard about this year's prank. April Fools' Day was a serious occasion for her and Katya, a holiday they planned for for months. It started in 2010 when Natasha had been brave enough to prank her girlfriend at the time, and it developed from there. The only rule they had was that the pranks shouldn't be too humiliating. Just funny. So there was a lot of creative freedom.
This year, she really nailed it. It was hilarious. She was hilarious, and Katya was going to be so pissed. She thought Natasha had just gone to get a haircut, but she'd be getting the worst surprise of her life when she showed her what she'd actually been doing in the city.
Was it cruel? Yes. But Katya replaced all the Oreo cookie filling with toothpaste last year. Natasha's Oreo cookies. And she filled a donut with mayo. So Natasha wanted to let her feel that same pain. Only more subtly.
When she walked into the house, pushing her smirk aside for the sake of the prank, the smell of cake filled her nostrils. It smelled delicious, like chocolate and butter. A special recipe that Katya had been meaning to try. Too bad that Natasha wouldn't be eating a single piece of it, considering there was probably salt in it instead of sugar, but at least she knew where to find her darling wife. 
Prepared to feel incredibly smug and pleased, she strolled into the kitchen. Katya stood with her back turned, softly singing a song as she mixed something with the handheld electronic mixer. The noise drowned out the sound of Natasha's footsteps, so she didn't hear her come in. It only prolonged the excitement. "Smells good in here."
Katya jumped, quickly turning off the mixer. "Oh. Hi, baby!" An adoring smile spread across her lips as she turned around. Natasha almost felt bad for her upcoming prank. Almost. "Let me see your hair." A crease formed between her brows as she studied Natasha's long red locks. "It doesn't look any different," she said carefully, as if she was afraid to offend her new haircut.
Natasha smiled sheepishly, glancing down at her hands. "Yeah, well, you know… I was planning on getting my hair done, but then I passed a nail salon, and, well…" Instead of explaining, she simply brought her hands up, holding her nails out for Katya to see.
When the nail stylist asked her what shape she wanted, Natasha told her to go for the pointest, most stabby looking nail she could do, and she hadn't disappointed. Two inches long, all of them ended in a point that could seriously poke somebody's eye out. The deep red color and the black details turned them into the sexiest murder weapons she'd ever had. The sexiest, most inconvenient weapons ever. They were lowkey homophobic.
She saw the different emotions cross Katya's face one by one. Excitement, at first. Probably because she was happy Natasha spoiled herself, or she liked the nails. Then hesitation. Then realization. Then anger, which manifested with a slight twitch of her brows. And lastly…
Actually, Natasha couldn't decipher the emotion that slid over the anger. It was like Katya mentally paused before she could get really angry, and then decided on a different course. All of it happened within a second. Her brain was just that fast at assessing a situation.
An excited gasp flew from her lips. "They look so good, honey!" Katya exclaimed, carefully taking Natasha's hands in her own to see her nails better. "The design is so simple yet so elegant. It really suits you!"
Natasha inwardly frowned, her smugness plummeting. This was not the reaction she had been hoping for. Not by miles. But she wasn't giving up yet. "What do you think about the length?" She smiled, mirroring Katya's excitement. "I wanted to go even longer, but I've never had nails before so I didn't want to overdo it."
"No, I love it! It suits your hand shape really well." 
To Natasha's even bigger surprise, Katya let her hands go to grab her cheeks instead, pulling her close to press a sweet kiss to her lips. Her blue eyes sparkled joyfully. "I'm so glad you treated yourself to something nice. You deserve it."
Then she turned around and went back to making the icing for her cake. 
Natasha stood there, lost, wondering how this had gone completely the opposite way of how she wanted. Katya was supposed to be upset, asking her what she was thinking, getting long ass nails as a woman in a lesbian relationship. With those weapons on her fingers, she could not use them for her favorite activity whatsoever. 
But instead of getting pissed, Katya got the opposite. She happily sang, swaying her body as she finished mixing her icing. Not a care in the world.
Natasha's prank had dramatically failed.
"Look how good this looks." Katya suddenly turned around, a big scoop of chocolate icing on her pointer finger. Slowly, she brought it to her lips, sucking her finger into her mouth and pulling it out. "Hmm, so good," she moaned.
The very bottom part of Natasha's stomach twisted into knots. She couldn't find her words as she watched Katya lick off the icing in a way that was incredibly sensual. And not by accident.
''Yep, that's done!" She beamed. Katya covered the bowl with some foil and put it in the fridge, happily twirling around to a still frozen Natasha. ''I'm going to lift some weights. Could use a spotter.''
''I—'' Natasha mentally slapped herself, swallowing thickly. ''Sure.''
Katya perked up. ''Okay. Give me a minute to change.''
She wasn't stupid. She knew exactly what those nails meant. It meant her wife was an ass. An ass who didn't want to get laid for a few weeks, apparently. 
Her first instinct was to get pissed. Get pissed at Natasha for partly ruining their sex life. Because while they owned many replacements, Natasha's fingers would always be her favorite, and they were not going up there looking like that. 
But then Katya realized that getting angry was exactly what her wife was after. And what better way to ruin a prank by pretending not to see it? In fact, she was going to throw Natasha's own prank right back at her, make her miserable. Show her that getting these nails would come back to bite her in the ass. Fast.
Nobody messed with her.
Choosing her smallest sports bra and tightest cycling shorts, Katya threw her hair up and returned to Natasha. The woman seemed to be disoriented, or at least deep in thought. She was in the exact spot Katya left her ten minutes earlier, frowning at the countertop. When she did look up, Katya purposely flexed her biceps as she tightened her ponytail, drawing Natasha's gaze directly to her arms.
Her green eyes darkened as they took in Katya's figure. Everything that wasn't bare skin was skin-tight. And while her body didn't look the way it did when she was twenty-four—duh—Natasha still thought it was hot as hell. She wanted to grab it, bend it over the counter—
''Earth to Nat.''
Natasha rapidly blinked, pulling her head out of the clouds. ''Hm?''
Katya had a huge grin on her face that she tried to hide. ''I said; are you coming?''
''Oh, yes.''
She didn't even try to not stare at Katya's ass as the brunette walked in front of her. It was right there, shaking in those spandex shorts. The urge to grab it and press her nails—oh. With a frown, Natasha looked down at her pointy nails. She couldn't grab Katya's butt and press the top of her nails down at the same time.
''Hmm…'' Katya stopped in the doorframe of the garage—their home gym. ''What do you reckon I should do first?''
''Ass.'' Natasha was just in time to bring her gaze upwards when Katya spun around, staring straight into her raised eyebrow. Her cheeks heated up when she realized what her half-horny brain had thrown out. ''I meant squats.''
''Squats it is.'' Katya smiled.
Even the process of setting it all up drove Natasha up the wall. To get the weights on the bar, Katya had to lift them, and because she barely wore a shirt, her back, shoulder, and arm muscles visibly flexed for Natasha to see. Her hands itched, but she suspected Katya was playing a game, and she wasn't going to give in.
They both weren't going to give in. So it was going to be a game of who can hold out the longest.
If things progressed this way, Natasha was one hundred percent sure she was going to lose.
''Okay.'' Katya excessively bent over to put her resistance band down. She'd warmed her muscles—doing some very deep deep squats—and secured her ponytail once more. ''I'm ready.''
Natasha knew it was going to be a mistake when she stepped behind Katya. She knew she was digging her own grave. The brunette pressed her ass into her front and flexed her muscles way more than necessary as she adjusted her grip on the bar resting on her shoulders. Natasha clenched her jaw to keep still and quiet, but the frustration started to build. 
Down Katya went for the first squat, pausing a few seconds before she went up again. Natasha squatted along with her, forcing herself to pay attention to the bar and only the bar. She wondered if she could even close her hands around it in case Katya needed her help. Those damn claws of her were probably in the way. 
She was about to breathe out in relief when Katya didn't pull any stunts on the way up. 
Then she let out the sexiest grunt ever. 
Natasha nearly collapsed through her knees. Dirty memories of times where Katya grunted like that flashed through her head. Half an hour of teasing and she was on the very edge of damning it all to hell. Screw her dignity. She wanted something else to screw, and fast.
Down, Katya went again, audibly breathing out as she went down, and grunting when she straightened up. Down, breathing out. Up, grunting. 
Three times, Natasha kept herself together with great difficulty. On the forth grunt, her sexual frustration snapped.
''Put it down.''
Katya smirked to herself. She expected her wife to keep it together a bit longer, but obviously her plan was working. ''What? Why? I've just started,'' she said innocently, pretending to be extremely confused the same way she'd been pretending to be stupid.
''Put the thing down.''
Carefully, Katya racked the bar, furrowing her brows as she turned to face the fuming redhead. Before she could blink, Natasha had her pinned against one of the squat rack's poles. She felt all that frustration in the way her spine bumped against the metal. ''What's going on?'' Her eyes widened like that of a deer in headlights.
''Stop playing dumb.''
''Playing dumb?''
Natasha took one good look at her and knew she wasn't going to give in. Katya could play the innocent persona as long as she wished to, no matter what threat Natasha would sling at her head. Torture training as a kid clearly worked better for her. The only thing she had to do was grunt a bit and Natasha was a goner.
A groan of frustration filled the garage. This was cruelty in the most ruthless way. Dangling the richest, most tasteful, most expensive wine in front of an alcoholic but not letting them have a taste. Collecting all her self-control, Natasha backed away, stalking off without so much as another word.
Katya snickered proudly, smirking as she turned back to the squat rack. Her plan was going amazingly so far. These weren't the only tricks up her sleeve. 
The torture continued throughout the day. She was doing the dishes? She accidentally got the front of her shirt all wet, and didn't happen to wear a bra. The dinner table needed a good clean? She was bent all over that thing trying to get the spots in the middle. She was vacuuming? She was on her hands and knees on the floor trying to vacuum underneath the couch.
Wherever Natasha went, she also miraculously had to be. The redhead could not escape her. It was torture training. But in a way she'd never been tortured before.
The weapons on her hands had gone from ''the funniest things ever'' to ''I'm going to rip my whole nail off if it means I get to stuff my hand down her pants''. She couldn't take it anymore. Sexual frustration built and built until her stomach was in a permanent knot and her hands were constantly sweaty.
Two hours before Maya was meant to be coming home, Natasha couldn't take it anymore. The groans, grunts, and sighs, and the positions Katya bent her body in finally pushed her over the edge. 
Fine, her wife had won. But taking a hit to her ego and pride was worth it if she could finally get her hands between those legs.
She didn't even bother soaking her nails off. She simply took nail cutters to them and cut them all off as short as possible. Then she filed them down roughly, paying extra attention to the middle three fingers of her left hand, and tossed everything in the trash.
Katya heard her coming from miles away, her rushed footsteps before Natasha cornered her in the laundry room. She saw them immediately; her nails. Or the lack thereof. 
Concerned, she dropped a t-shirt back in the laundry basket, trying to reach for her hands. ''Oh, no, what did you do to your nails?''
But Natasha wasn't taking this innocent bullshit anymore. ''You drive me absolutely nuts. You pest,'' she grumbled. Her voice lacked serious anger as she slowly backed Katya up against the washing machine. Instead, it was laced with reluctant defeat and annoyance. Annoyance at herself.
A sly smile overtook Katya's features as she gripped the edge of the machine for stability. It looked like her wife had been through it. ''Ready to admit you made a mistake then?''
''I hate you.'' 
Katya chuckled softly. ''You dug your own grave, babe. Worst prank ever. Well, for you then. It was so much fun for me.'' She smirked teasingly as she slowly trailed her fingers up Natasha's arm. The game was still going on. Even now. The glare Natasha sent her was weak at most. ''Don't forget who you're messing with.'' 
Natasha rolled her eyes, leaning forward to connect their lips, thinking this was it. But Katya jerked her head back, amusement swimming in her eyes. 
''Nuh-uh. Say it.''
''Say it?'' The redhead grumbled impatiently, seconds away from throwing a fit. 
Katya nodded smugly, her fingers slowly trailing down Natasha's arm. ''I need to hear it. I…''
Natasha clenched her teeth together to swallow back the vile words and accusations that Katya would only laugh at. She didn't think she would be this cruel, giving her dignity another slap in the face by making her vocally admit her mistake like a child. Unfortunately, Natasha didn't have another option. 
She squinted her eyes, placing as much displeasure in her words as she could. ''I made a mistake thinking I could outsmart my mean, cruel wife.''
Happy, Katya grinned, grabbing Natasha's hips to pull them flush against her own. This victory tasted sweeter than her chocolate cake downstairs. She won April Fools'. And she didn't even have to do anything for it. ''You know, it's really not my fault you get so riled up.''
Natasha usually loved to bicker, but she couldn't take it anymore. Her gaze kept drifting down from Katya's eyes to her lips when she talked, and if she wouldn't get her mouth or hands on her body right this instant, she was going to explode. ''Respectfully, shut up. You had your fun, now it's time for mine.''
''Yeah, those nails aren't going up there looking like that.''
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slvt4em1lyprenti2s · 5 months ago
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please tell me i’m not going insane and someone had a link to that one video where the girl is filming herself so you can just see her and her gfs legs and her gf had heels and like suit pants on and she like sits in her lap or smthin PLEASE SOMEONE LINK ME IT EVEN ITS IN AN EDIT OR WHATEVER!!!
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mviswidow · 1 year ago
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strong and capable
Blackhill x daughter!Reader
Word count: 565
Summary: R is home from her first solo mission and her moms are so proud, though Natasha finds herself worried.
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“Your mother is a little upset that you got hurt, but we’re very proud of you, kiddo. You did great work today,” Maria said, and you could see the truth of her words in her eyes.
“Thank you, Momma,” a smile crept onto your face. “I learned from the best.”
“That you did,” she replied as she dabbed a cloth with peroxide over the raw skin above your eyebrow. 
You winced at the contact and offered you an apologetic smile, “You get used to it.”
You scoffed, remembering the countless amount of times you’d seen her complain to Natasha as her wife cleaned her cuts, “that’s bullshit.”
Maria rolled her eyes, but a smile still played on her lips, “Don’t be a little punk, I was trying to make you feel better about it.”
You laughed as Natasha walked into the room as she got off the phone with someone.
Your mom walked over and sighed quietly, looking over where your face had been scraped or was bloody in various places before kissing the top of your head, “We’re working on your defensive combat this week.”
“Okay,” you nodded.
Maria looked to Natasha expectantly.
“And I’m very proud of you, sweetheart. Good job,” she smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.
You chuckled, “Thank you, Mom. I did my best.”
“I know you did, I just don’t like seeing my baby hurt is all.”
Maria finished cleaning you up, put some neosporin on the places she thought needed it, and kissed your forehead, “Good as new.”
You smiled and hopped off the stool you’d been sitting on, “Thanks, Momma. You guys down to watch a movie after I shower? Maybe Mulan?”
“Of course. You need some food in you, though, I’ll make dinner to eat while we watch, okay?” Natasha replied.
“Sounds good to me,” you agreed, before rushing into the bathroom.
When the door closed Maria leaned back against the countertop and pulled Natasha towards her, holding her upper arms. Natasha let her hands rest at her wife’s hips and took a deep breath.
“You need to be nicer to her,” Maria murmured, and Natasha nodded, eyes fixed on the floor.
Maria tilted her wife’s face towards her, “I mean it. Look how long we’ve been at it and how often do we complete a job without a scratch?”
“I know. I worry, obviously - I know you do too. I’m happy she wants to take after us, it just scares me because I know how badly this can go and god forbid-”
“Baby, stop,” Maria shook her head and ran her hands up and down Natasha’s arms to soothe her. “Our daughter is so strong, and so capable, okay? She graduated at the top of her class - I mean, we trained her ourselves. You have to trust that she can take care of herself out there. Let yourself celebrate her victories instead of worrying about what could have gone worse. You know we’re part of the reason she does this. How do you think she feels that you’re not over the moon about her success today just because she got out with a couple of cuts and bruises?”
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Natasha sighed and put her arms around Maria’s neck, feeling her wife’s hands snake around her waist. “Thank you, my love. I’ll talk to her later.”
Maria kissed her cheek, “Anytime, angel.”
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delulu-with-wandanat · 6 months ago
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Objective: Teenage Dreams.
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Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff
Tags: Pride month, bisexual Wanda, mutual pining, canon divergence, lesbian Natasha.
A/n: My gift before pride ends lol, it a little rushed but uhh... I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it. It's kind of a crack fic honestly, just good vibe for ye gays :D (Ps. sorry if there are mistakes I kind rushed this andd it's been a while.)
Summary: It's pride month and Wanda still hasn't made her move. Being the self-proclaimed greatest ally, Y/n and two other decided to give them a push.
On lazy days like these, Wanda usually spends it by reading a book, maybe binge watching some shows. Other times she spends it with her brother, but ever since joining the Avengers, Pietro has made it his ultimate goal to have Steve Roger's physique. He trained almost day and night, honestly Wanda could enter the gym at 9 in the morning finding her brother in the middle of a workout, and by the time she was finished he was still there.
Often time he was also with her best friend, who is now his gym buddy, Y/n Romanoff. Who was just as much of a gym rat as Pietro. Honestly, the amount of time they stare at themselves in the mirror was concerning. She's almost sure she had passed a video on social media featuring them titled; 'How to train like an Avenger'
So nowadays she spends her free time alone, even though she wishes she could spend it with a certain beautiful redhead-
Although it wasn't all that bad. Wanda had found a new fixation to spend her time on. Which was Fanfictions.
Now how does one stumbles upon this... wonderful world you might ask? Well for Wanda it started when she was watching a new TV Show she had recently discovered called, The 100. It was fun until they killed off one of her favorite character, Lexa. Wanda naturally dropped the show in an instant. During one of her rants to one of the new recruits, Kate Bishop then sent her a link leading to a website followed a text that read; "The showrunners might break your heart, but fanfiction authors will be there to pick up the pieces."
And Wanda... Fell down the rabbit hole from there.
At first all she searched was merely about wlw couples on her favorite movies and shows, like that one Supergirl TV show she had been recently watching. Or that one cute show called 'Everything Sucks' that got canceled after one season. Basically any wlw couples she started to like, but couldn't be explored due to the showrunners being a pus-
It didn't matter, she founded the holy-site that held all the stories in the world. Then, when she found nothing else to read there, it lead her journey to... a site that shares the same name as drinking bottle; Tumblr. Minus the 'e'.
The site gave her access to a whole new world and whole lot more stories. It was on this website that she found out there was a whole fandom for the Avengers, and many stories was written about them in different scenarios. Sometimes it was cute, other times it was... questionable-
You can't really blame her, can't you? Her name and the word mommy was basically inseparable on this site.
This was where she learned that people have also been 'shipping' one Avenger and the other. Curiosity got the better of the witch when she started to search herself... and a certain former Russian spy. She was surprised to see how many stories were written about them here. Wanda... may have gotten a little out of hand.
This was her guilty pleasure. Reading stories about her crush and herself in a scenario instead of actually trying to talk to her. Can you blame her though? She was what the internet describes as a 'Loser Lesbian'.
The little voice in her head prefers the word 'Useless Lesbian', which wasn't even accurate as she mostly resonates more with Bisexuality-
"Happy gay month, cus you know you bi and stuff!" Ah there it is, the 'little voice' burst through her door unannounced, causing Wanda to yelp and quickly shut her laptop close to hide her 'shameful' activity.
Wanda glared at the young Romanoff who was carrying 3 different items in his hand and approaching her on the bed. "What the fuck is wrong with-"
"Here, I got you a gay balloon cus it got all the color because it's GAY."
"Y/n-" She reluctantly takes the balloon.
"And I gotchu a vinyl album with that Sweater Weather song cus you Bi." He handed her the vinyl, how thoughtful.
"Ok-"
Lastly, "And I baked you a cake that says, 'BeeEE who yoOOUUu aaRREEE, for YooUURE PRiiiDEEEEeeeEE'" He sang the word off tune.
"Ok- Thank you... Uhm-" She grabs all the items and looks at them with confusion. "This is..." Wanda furrowed her eyes at her friend. "Why- Why did you do this, why are you doing this??"
"You know... Cus you're Bi!"
"I'm well aware of that fact."
"Well my dearest Wanda, in this holy month of June I have a very important mission to accomplish." The young Romanoff suddenly jumps on her bed and dramatically opens his arms as if he was some kind of showman. "I'm gonna get you a woman!"
The youngest Maximoff cringes her face and with a flick of her wrist she knock the soldier off her bed, earning a high pitch scream from him. "First of all, you can't get a woman for yourself how do you expect to get me a girlfriend."
"I have plenty of girls!" He said rather defensively as he sat up on the floor.
"And second, why is this so important to you?"
"What you don't want a girlfriend?"
"I still like guys you know."
He rolled his eyes, "I know that, but you always told me you wanted to try dating girls."
"Not just girls... a girl-" She mumbles.
"What was that?" The man raised a teasing eyebrow.
"Nothing! Now shut up, you haven't answered my question." Wanda said while huffing and crossing her arms.
"Because my dearest friend being Bisexual is one thing, but being bi yourself is just sad-" That statement earned him a rightful pillow thrown at him at full speed. Which he thankfully manages to deflect this time with his reflex.
Wanda then groans and plops on her bed. "You're not going to stop, are you?"
"Nope." Y/n even popped the 'p' to emphasize his point. With a roll of her eyes, Wanda agrees with an exaggerated fine and he joined her on the bed with a grin. "Now, first thing on the list is we need to get you some new clothes."
Wanda hastily sat up looked down at her current outfit and glanced at the mirror in her room. She gave him a stinky eye. "What's wrong with my clothes??" This rude bitch-
"Nothing..." Y/n said rather sassily, "I just... think it might need a little spice is all." Without asking for her permission, Y/n grabs her laptop out of her reach and opens it. "I was thinking we could- WHOAAA..."
"What's- NO!" Her eyes widens in panic has her dirty little secret have been exposed. The witch lunges herself to him only for the young super soldier to hold out a hand to keep her at a distance while staring bewildered at the screen before him. "GIVE IT BACK."
"OH MY GOD???? YOu into this shit?!!" Oh the young Romanoff was having the time of his life. He grinned as he looked at what the story was about, "Natasha Romanoff x Reader? Ohhh ho HO, you really llike her huh-?"
"Y/n I swear to god, GIVE IT BACK." She yelled, Wanda was fucking furious. She already had an annoying brother to deal with, what was she thinking adding Y/n into the mix.
"I want to see your blog." It was like she was seeing red, blood thumping in her brain.
Wanda screeched like a maniac, suddenly overpowering the super soldier. She was practically sitting on top of him wrestling with the now closed laptop, Y/n hugged the laptop close. "Y/N I WILL KILL YOU!"
"I JUST WANT TO SEE!"
"NEVER!" Their screaming was probably heard all over the compound as they wrestle for Wanda's laptop. However, a stern voice stopped their childish fight.
"Enough, both of you!" The two whipped their head to the door to see Natasha crossing her arms and looking at them expectantly. The two scurry off of each other and Wanda made a final yank on her laptop out of his reach. The two stood up like guilty children caught in a fight.
"He took my laptop without permission." Wanda spoke up before Y/n could open his mouth. The look of betrayal on his face brings pleasure to Wanda as Natasha's anger was now directed to him.
"You-"
"Y/n, you know better than to take other people's personal things." Natasha glared at her little brother.
"You're just going to believe her right out of the gate?!" He retorted.
"It's the truth!" Wanda said while hugging her laptop tightly.
"You little snitch-" The super soldier turned to face her challengingly. Before the two were about to enter yet another screaming match, Natasha's stern voice puts them in their place once again.
"You two are acting like children. I have enough of this, Y/n if you don't stop this childish nonsense I'll have you grounded from any missions."
"You can't do that?!" His eyes practically bulge out of it's eye socket.
"I can, and I will." Natasha's death stare easily intimidates him as he quickly mumbles an apology to Wanda. The spy's gaze turned to the witch with soft and caring look, unlike the one she gave to her sibling. "Wanda, if he gives you anymore trouble you let me know ok?"
"Thank you, Natasha." Wanda said shyly, a faint blush visible on her cheek. The redhead smiled at her before giving one last glare to Y/n and left to god-knows-where.
It was so painfully obvious that the two liked each other. Except the only one that fail to realize that is themselves. Operation Scarlet Widow was going to be a lot more difficult than he anticipated, Y/n might need a little backup.
"I seriously don't get why you can't just ask her out instead of reading a bunch of stories-"
This annoying fuck- "DON'T talk to me about that!" She suddenly uses her powers to float him out of her room. "I don't wanna hear about it-" She practically throws him out, Y/n lies on the floor while looking at his friend bewildered. Wanda gave one last glare and shuts the door on his face.
"But-"
"And stay out!" Her voice yelled from inside the room.
Being the annoying friend that he is, he got onto his feet and proceeds to bug the shit out of the witch. Y/n started with those gentle knocks on the door. "Honeyyy-" He teased her.
"Ohmyfuckinggod. Don't call me that!" Wanda yells again. Y/n snickers at her response.
"Wanda, come on..." He knocks again, hearing no response the soldier knocks on the door harder. "You can't hide forever, come out!"
"Jokes on you, I already am!"
"Not what I meant, but ok!" He snickers again, clearly Wanda would not be opening the door anytime soon. He makes his way to the gym to recruit some people who shall help him in this mission.
------
Upon entering the training grounds, Y/n found Yelena and Pietro in the middle of a sparring session. Only these two would spend their Sundays training.
"Dearest Brother, nice of you to join us." Of course Yelena would know it was him, despite having her back facing Y/n.
"Let me know when you want to spar with someone who can actually throw a punch." The soldier said with a smirk.
"Fuck you, Romanoff!" The silver-haired speedster gave him the finger before focusing back on his opponent. "You're the one who's lacking, I thought super soldiers could do this all day?"
Y/n scoffed, "Oh please, I can take you down without breaking a sweat. You rely mostly on your powers."
"Barf, are you going to keep bothering us or join us?" Yelena said with a roll of her eyes, using the distraction Pietro surges forward in an attempt to tackle Yelena. Although she may not have powers, her skills were beyond his years. Using the techniques taught by none other than her own sister, Yelena manages to take down the speedster with ease.
"Hah!" She snorted seeing Pietro with his face on the ground and tapping the floor to announce his defeat. Yelena gets off of him with a smirk on her face.
"Oh come on! If this was a real fight you know you wouldn't stand a chance." The speedster grumbles.
"I'm not denying that, but take that power away and you're just another damsel in distress."
Pietro narrowed his eyes. In the midst of her overconfidence, he uses his powers to knock Yelena on the feet, causing her to fall backwards onto her ass. Normally, her instinct would've kicked in and she would prepare for the fall, but this time Pietro stands in triumph while crossing his arms with a smirk on his face.
"Bitch." Yelena mumbles in Russian before dusting herself off.
"Now if you're both finished, I would like to make an offering." Y/n said while putting his fingers together like some menace business man with bad intention.
"You want to steal Tony's car and do a high speed race on the highway? I call dibs on the Mclaren." Yelena spoke up.
"So long as I get the Ferrari-" Pietro chimes in.
"No, but we'll get back into that because I always wanted to try his Audi. What I have is, how would you feel on playing cupid for our dearest sisters?" Yelena only raises an eyebrow while Pietro squints his eyes.
"I am getting sick of seeing them practically eye-fucking each other at the gym." Yelena started.
"Hey, that's my little sister." Pietro said while puffing his chest out playing the overprotective big brother role.
Yelena rolled her eyes, "She's 27 dipshit, and you're only 12 minutes older."
"Still my little sister..."
"Look we can all agree that these two needs to sort out their feelings, and since the two are completely useless as one is an idiot who thinks staring will magically get her a date. And the other has deep traumatic issues where she struggles to have proper relationship due to her upbringing. I'd say, maybe they need a little third party help?" Y/n opens his arms as if to wait if any of the two objects.
"And how do you plan on pulling this off?" Yelena asked.
"I was hoping you might help me figure that out." Y/n threw back the question. Yelena rolled her eyes.
"So you came to us for help empty handed?"
"Well I would argue dedication and sheer will counts for something." Y/n puffed out his chest, he clearly has nothing.
"We don't even know if Natasha likes Wanda back." Pietro chimes in, which earns him a raised eyebrow from the two Russians.
"It's hard to miss."
"Yeah, I can see the oblivious genes runs in the Maximoff's."
Maybe it was less obvious to someone who was not close to Natasha, she was a trained spy overall. And these two were practically raised to be more observant than others. Or that could just be the oblivious Maximoff genes.
"All I know is, Wanda has had this crush ever since she stole Natasha's jacket."
Y/n furrowed his eyebrows at Pietro. "Wasn't that like... a year ago with Ultron?" Yelena barks out a laugh, "You mean to tell me she's been pinning on Natasha for a year??"
Pietro shrugs his shoulders and smirked, "Wanda has bigger pool, but I'm the one getting all the girls."
"Barf-" Yelena said while fake gagging, earning a jab on the rib by Pietro. "If we want a shot for our dearest love birds we have to be quick, cause I'm noticing a certain android having his eyes on Wanda."
"Who, the toaster?" Pietro said while cringing his face.
"Ok... I can see you don't seem so fond of the guy, and Vision's not so bad y'know-" Y/n said, it's not that he was close with Vision. But he didn't understand why Pietro would look so utterly disgusted.
"No, he's not bad. But if this works out, you and I would be brothers for real, y'know?"
Damn... This was true brotherhood. "Bro..."
"Bro..."
The two hugged like it was something out of a bromance movie. Yelena could only watch with her arms crossed, wondering what the fuck was going on. However, while the two gym rats were having their moment, a plan formed in her mind.
-------
The trio sprang into action in an instant, ordering a bunch of pizzas, heading to the city to grab some supplies, thankfully alcohols were already taken cared of.
"Ok! Now we just need everybody here." Y/n said with a satisfied grin whilst taking a shot to give himself a head start. Yelena mimicked his movement and so did Pietro.
"FRIDAY, assemble the team to the common room." The AI gave Pietro the acknowledgement, soon enough the team entered the common room with a confused look.
"What's going on?" Steve was first to spoke up as he looked around the decorated room with food and beverages.
Wanda glances to a certain redhead a few meters away from her, Natasha initially had a bored look on her face, arms crossed, and was probably mentally preparing herself to whatever the hell her siblings had in mind. And it was as if the spy felt a pair of eyes on her she looked to the side and locked eyes with Wanda, instantly, the corner of Natasha's mouth pulled into a tiny smile and a small shrug.
Wanda blushed instantly and turned her gaze to the floor, tucking a hair behind her ear. The trio, saw this and glances at one another.
"Well dearest teammates." Y/n started, taking a microphone and speaking to it as if he was an mc. "Tonight will be the night-"
"What's with the mic, Y/n?" Natasha asked with a roll of her eyes.
"I was getting there," He responded while putting his hand up, "Tonight Is the night we let loose!" He whooped, yet the only one cheered with him was Pietro.
"Seriously?" Natasha asked with a raised eyebrow.
Y/n scoffed at his teammates, looking at all the low faces and annoyed faces. "Sam! Come on, you're always game." He asked, needing ATLEAST someone to be in it.
Sam sighed, "Man, I would but honestly I was looking forward to sleep early tonight." Y/n looked at him as if his heart had been stabbed.
"Wanda??" He asked his best friend, and Wanda groaned at him. Oh this was a rough start.
"Honestly, I'm in the mood for some me time and not... whatever this is." She replied indicating to the alcohol bottles on the table.
"Sorry kid, looks like everyone is super tired." Steve added with a pity look, "Maybe next time plan things out."
"But that's boring!" Pietro exclaimed, and speeds to every single one handing out a shot glass filled with vodka.
"It's not just any normal drinking night, there's singing involved." Yelena finally chimed in while dunking another shot.
"Yelena, you can't possibly be part of this." Natasha asked her sister, and Yelena shrugged in respond.
"Any reason to grab Tony's alcohol is as good as any." The blonde replied.
Everyone glanced at one another, shot glass in hand, contemplating their decision. "Think of it like a team bonding." Y/n talked again, he cocked his head at Yelena who turns on a song and a familiar tune started playing, a song that would get anyone from any generation dancing (excluding Steve, perhaps). Dancing Queen by Abba.
Y/n had a goofy grin on his face, dancing into the tune, Pietro followed through while Yelena occasionally bopped her head. Sam was the first to grow a grin on his face. Steve, Natasha and Wanda looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "It's Abba!" The falcon said as a matter of factly, he then downed in shot.
"That's the spirit!" Y/n said excited as Sam danced to his direction.
Hesitantly, cap started to walk forward earning a disbelief gasp from Natasha. "Rogers, really...?"
"I mean, I really did enjoyed Mama Mia...." The American boy said with a sheepish smile.
As soon as the lyric's intro came in, Y/n puts an arm around Steve with a microphone in hand. "You can dance!"
"You can jive!" Sam pulled the microphone to himself.
"Having the time of your life!" Those who were already in the circle sang simultaneously, Natasha rolled her eyes but if you squint you could see a tiny smile there. Meanwhile Wanda shifted closer to Natasha watching the group in amusement.
"See that girl!" Y/n pointed at the two, and the other followed. "Watch that scene, digging the dancing queen." He sang, "Come on dancing queens get in here!"
Natasha shook her head fondly, holding back a smile.
"Wanda, Wanda, I know you want to join us girrlll..." Y/n said playfully to his best friend, the boys and Yelena were beckoning her to join. Natasha looked to her side and true enough, Wanda was biting her lips, contemplating whether or not she should join. "You like this song don't lie! Natasha, help me out." Wanda did in fact like this song.
The way her body swayed subtly to the rhythm, her eyes glinting with anticipation, the only thing that's holding Wanda back was herself. Fuck it, Natasha thought to herself. She then held Wanda's arms and dragged her into the group who cheered when they joined. "Wha- Nat, no I-"
"Come on, little witch." Natasha said, turning to face Wanda and raised her shot glass. "Loosen up a bit."
God, Wanda couldn't decline, especially when her crushed smirked like that. They clinked their shot glass and downed their drinks.
------
As the clock got closer to midnight, the more they drank, and the more they drank, the more chaotic it gets. The song they choose ranges to many different genres, in the beginning Pietro and Y/n mostly sang something boyish, like rap or rock. Then as the two gets progressively drunker they sang something what would be describe as 'Girly Pop'.
Steve sang some old 40s song, which was refreshing especially after hearing Y/n's off tune singing voice. Everybody except Natasha was surprised to hear Yelena singing American Pie wholeheartedly, Natasha even sat next to her and sang it with her briefly.
Although the highlight of the night was probably the time Yelena, Pietro and Y/n sang and dance to the song 'Wannabe' by Spice Girls. Natasha had to hid her face with her hand while Sam was laughing his ass off and leaning to Steve for support. Wanda was like a giggling maniac the whole time as she was secretly recording it for some black mailing material on her twin.
Mid-song, Yelena pulled her brother subtly and pushing a very drunk Pietro forward. "Take it for a spin, Maximoff!"
"So, here's a story from a to z-!" Pietro started rapping his part drunkenly.
"She's not drunk enough." Yelena said to Y/n who was trying to stable himself.
"Yep, the alcohol hasn't hit her yet, and Pietro's not going to be much help-" Y/n covered his mouth suddenly as he felt a vomit, he then answered after seeing Yelena's raised eyebrow. "Sorry- Don't worry I got this, hold a bottle."
"Slam your body down and wind it all around!" Pietro continued singing with Yelena twirling his ass in what this generation would describe as 'slay' manner, Y/n drunkenly sauntered over to Wanda who panicked when he started pulling her to the make shift stage.
"No- No, let me go, Y/n!" Wanda protested.
"Just take a shot and come with!" Y/n practically yanked her and they stumbled over to the middle of the living room. "Cheers!" He said while knocking his glass with hers and Wanda finally relents and knocked back her shot.
"-make it last forever, friendship never ends!" Y/n sang while putting an arm around his best friend, Wanda cringes at the bitter taste of the alcohol, she had a few drinks in already but she was never really fond at the taste of vodka.
"Wanda!" Yelena said, suddenly putting an arm around the her as well. "Oh, honey, you emptied your glass already."
"N-no, Yelena, I just dra-"
"Don't you worry, I got you." Yelena said while pouring her another shot, Wanda's eyes widens. She glances to the side and locked eyes with Natasha who raised a teasing eyebrow at her. "Yes, now we cling!" The blonde haired woman said while raising her glass.
Reluctantly, Wanda clinked their glass awkwardly and took a deep breath before taking another shot. She doesn't know how many shots she have taken from that moment, all she knew was that she felt like dancing.
Natasha watched as Wanda's dance move progressively become more fluid and at ease in contrast to her usual shy self. The spy smiled to herself, dance with her. Natasha shook her head at the impulsive thoughts. At some point during the song 'Teenage Dreams' by Katy Perry, Wanda was handed a mic by Yelena. Thankfully this time Wanda was drunk enough not to refuse, and instead grinned like a goof.
When Wanda sang the second verse, Natasha almost lost her breath because she sounded so... beautiful.
"We drove to Cali and got drunk on the beach. Got a motel and built a fort out of sheets."
Wanda sang with her eyes closed, smile on her face, swaying her body to the rhythm. "I finally found you, my missing puzzle piece, I'm complete." The witch opened her beautiful green eyes just to have a similar looking ones staring right back at her.
Wanda giddily approached Natasha and extend her hand, "Wanda-"
"Come onn, Tasha!" Wanda pleaded. Tasha, well that's new-
Natasha hesitantly looked around, the trio were holding onto each other while slurring to the song, Sam had passed out, and Steve... Well, he gave Natasha a knowing look before helping Sam up to his feet and gave Natasha a look that says 'Don't mess this up, Romanoff.' And walking off with a drunken Sam.
"We can dance, until we die. You and I..." Wanda sang waiting for Natasha to finally grab her hand, finally the spy relents and took the witch's offering hand. "-we'll be young forever!"
Wanda practically yanks Natasha into the middle of the living room.
"You make me feel like I'm livin' a teenage dream. The way you turn me on, I can't sleep. Let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back!"
The younger woman puts a hand on Natasha's shoulder, swaying her hips while singing the lyrics. Natasha was unsure if she should put her hand on Wanda, keep it to the side, on Wanda's waist perhaps?
"My heart stops." The witch suddenly tilt Natasha's chin so their eyes meet. "When you look at me," Natasha's breath hitched in her throat, "just one touch...." And the rest of the lyrics seems to died on Natasha's ears as all she could see was a drunken state Wanda making her confession crystal clear.
Wanda turned and moved her body sensually against Natasha, without hesitation, the older woman puts a firm hand on Wanda's hips to guide her moves. Wanda shivered when she felt Natasha's hot breath on her ear. "Imma get your heart racing in my skin-tight jeans." She grabs Natasha's hand and trail it up her body, a silent plea to the older woman to touch her. "Be your teenage dream tonight..."
Fuck... if Natasha had no self-restraint, she would've taken Wanda here and there. "Let you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans" Wanda turns around to face Natasha again and this time the younger one guided Natasha's hand to rest on her thighs. "Be your teenage dream tonight...."
The song reached it's mini pause. Wanda, almost in desperation and system full of alcohol wrapped her arms around Natasha and leaned in til their nose was touching. "I want to kiss you so bad..." She whispered.
"I-" The redhead was at lost for words, her eyes looking deep into those beautiful green eyes, searching for any signs of hesitation. Blown pupils were looking right back at her, slowly it travels down to Natasha's lips. Fuck this.
As soon as the song started again, Natasha gently cup Wanda's face with one hand and pulled her into a soft kiss. Oh Wanda's heart could explode right about now, for a second her mind became stone-cold sober so it could remember this moment properly. Wanda drops the microphone she was holding and puts her hand on the older woman's cheeks, using her thumb to caress her soft delicate skin.
"You make me, Feel like I'm livin' a teenage dream The way you turn me on, I can't sleep Let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back."
The two women were now lost in their own world, they failed to notice the cheers from their own respective (very drunk atm) siblings. Wanda was taller than Natasha, but she went on her tippy toes and wrapped her slender arms around the spy. Natasha craned her neck a little, smiling into the kiss, her arms securely on (her) the little witch's waist.
"My heart stops, when you look at me. Just one touch, now baby I believe this is real. So take a chance and don't ever look back."
Wanda felt like she was on cloud nine, feeling Natasha's soft lips on hers. Oh those sweet plump lips she's been day dreaming about for months, honestly, she felt like the main character in a movie. A teenager if you will in a coming off age movie, is this what Simon felt like from Love, Simon? The song was quite spot on, as Natasha made her feel like a teenager once again, or at least what she assumes a teenager would feel. She never really got to properly enjoyed her teenage years, but here she is. With the woman of her dreams.
"We're siblings for real!" They finally broke the kiss after hearing a drunken Y/n made the statement, arms on both Yelena and Pietro who were just as equally drunk as him. Pietro mimicked his sentence, and Yelena only nodded her head while occasionally raising her glass. Natasha and Wanda shared a look as they held each other, the spy snorted while her counterpart giggled at the scene.
It seems like the trio had put Katy Perry's song on shuffle, because the beat to 'Last Friday Night' started playing.
They started chanting "We did it!" matching their words to the tune of the song, the two couple shared a look.
"Do you wanna get out of here?" Natasha asked, a small smile on her face.
"Yes, please." Wanda replied shyly before being dragged out of the living room by Natasha.
-------
The witch woke up groggily on her bed, her eyes needed time to adjust to the light that were peaking into her room. She groaned and fell back onto the bed with a thud, shielding herself from the light like a vampire allergic to it. "Ugh... what did Yelena put in my drinks." She grumbles.
All of the sudden everything came rushing back into her memory like a tidal wave. I kissed Natasha...
She hastily sat on her bed and looked around. She remembered they kissed, but... how did they end up here. Wanda remembered Natasha asking her to move out of the living room, oh my god did we slept together? The witch's face started to match her battle suit as she thought of the possibility, wish I could've remembered.
Her throat felt dry so she decided to grab herself some drinks in the kitchen. And to her surprise, Natasha was already there. Humming to herself and cooking breakfast, Wanda let in a sharp breath at the sight. Of course, being the trained spy that she is, Natasha greeted Wanda without having to turn around.
"Good morning, Wanda. Slept well?" Natasha asked kindly.
"I don't know how you do that." Wanda muttered.
The spy chuckles to herself, "What I was trained for, little witch. I already put a glass of water for you by the table. Bacon and eggs alright?"
Wanda glanced at the table and surely enough Natasha already prepped a big jug of water and a glass for her. "Oh thank you, you're a godsent..." The younger woman took a seat and dawned her water, and then also her second glass of water.
Natasha walked by her and set a plate for both herself and Wanda. "What a night was it?" She said with a hint of tease.
The brunette only nodded her head while drinking her water like it was the last one on earth. She dropped her glass with a sigh of relief and glances at Natasha, a faint blush appeared on her cheek almost immediately. Wanda cleared her throat before answering, "It was, thank you for breakfast."
"You're welcome." She replied simply, her body still angled a little to the side, one arm propped on the head of the chair whilst staring intently at Wanda.
"Natasha, I..." Wanda started, oh god suddenly her throat feels dry again. The spy gave a small nod, urging her to continue. The younger woman started fidgeting with her finger. "I don't regret it," Wanda finally looks at her. "Kissing you, all of it, I don't regret any of it."
A smile tugged the corner of Natasha's lips, but before she could answer, Wanda started rambling on.
"B-but it's ok if you don't feel the same. Or that it was just a heat in the moment kind of thing."
"Wanda, relax." The older woman put a gentle hand on Wanda, she inhaled sharply at Natasha's action. "Listen... I'm no better at this. However, if your interested, I would like to take you out on a date." Natasha smiled at her, oh god, Wanda's heart was beating a mile minute. Wait, wait, she said date?
"I- Yes, I would love that." Wanda averted her gaze, the intensity of Natasha's green eyes was too much. The sheer intensity of the spy's gaze could turn her into a puddle of mess.
"Good, I've been dying to try this restaurant." Natasha said while turning her body now to face her breakfast, she took one bite of the bacon before continuing. "I hope Southeast Asian cuisine isn't too spicy for you." The spy said teasingly.
"Oh please, you underestimate me." Wanda responded with a slight bump of their shoulders, yet a question still lingers on her mind. "Hey uh... Sorry, I was just wondering. Did we uh... do anything?"
"What do you mean? We kissed." Natasha answered cluelessly.
"Yeah, but I remember you took me to my room. I couldn't remember anything from there, so... I was just wondering if we did anything." Wanda asked, her voice progressively gets more timid the more she explains.
"Hmmmm, like what? Watching a movie?" The spy said while looking up to the ceiling as if deep in thoughts, small smirk on her face.
"Tasha, stop messing around." Wanda said with a playful eyeroll.
"Tasha, huh? That's new." She continued to teased her little witch. Wanda playfully pouted her lips, of course Natasha couldn't help but give in to that. "Don't worry, little witch, nothing happened. I took you to your room, we made out for a little bit and before you finally fell a sleep in my arms. It was a adorable." Natasha added the last bit with a shrug and a smirk.
Wanda's face got increasingly red, "Ugh..." She groaned at hid her face in her hand. "I'm sorry."
"Don't hide that pretty face, as I said, it was adorable." Natasha pried away Wanda's hand, the witch relents and was greeting with a fond smile from Natasha. One she rarely saw, god she's so fucking beautiful.
And unfortunately for them, it had to be ruined by the trio... Again.
"Ughh.... my head-" Y/n groaned.
"I feel like skipping gym today." Pietro chimed in.
"Keep up." Yelena responded with a bored tone. She was sweating, probably went on a run.
Wanda and Natasha mentally cursed at themselves and returned to their own respective breakfast. The trio rummages through the kitchen, finding cereals and bowls, Yelena opted for an apple instead. They sat down across Natasha and Wanda, Y/n was first to point out the obvious of course.
"So...?" He asked them excitedly.
"So what?" Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.
Only for him to raised his eyebrow right back, "Did you guys shag?" Yelena piped in, Pietro groaned.
"No, don't answer that-" The older Maximoff covered his ears while Wanda shrunk in her seat.
"I'll take that as a yes!" Y/n yelled excitedly.
"First of all, we didn't." Natasha said firmly, "And second, I don't see how that's any of your business."
"Oh, but it is." The redhead narrowed her eyes at him, but it was too early to deal with her brother's antics.
"Look whatever you saw, zip it." Natasha stated, "I personally want to keep this under wrap, if this goes out to the press they're going to have a lot of questions and I don't want to deal with that."
"I'll second that." Wanda muttered, casting Natasha a grateful look to which the older woman smiled in response.
Y/n scoffed, "Whatever, I'm great at keeping secrets. Beside, I'm just glad the whole sexual tension can now be resolved-" He shuts up immediately upon seeing Natasha's glare.
After a few minutes of silence and eating their breakfast, Y/n's phone notification started going off like crazy. "Oh, Piet I think one of our videos got viral."
"Where let me see." Pietro leaned over to take a look, and upon opening the app, their eyes quickly widens. "Why would you upload that?!"
"I didn't! I must've- Fuck..." Y/n panicked, and by that, really panicked.
"What's going on?" Natasha asked.
"Nothing!" The two men said simultaneously, fuck... if Natasha finds out they're screwed. However, before they could delete the evidence, Natasha snatched the phone from her brother's hand. Wanda leaned closer to take a look and gasped. Yelena only snorted and excuse herself as she had an idea where this was going.
It was a footage of them, kissing, wrap up in each other's arms, lip tight in a passionate lock. Fuck, Katy Perry was right, Pictures of last night ended up online and they were screwed. "Y/n..." Natasha said warningly.
Without a second thought Y/n dashed away from the table with Pietro who zooms past him with his superspeed.
"I'll fucking kill you both!" Was Natasha's last word before hunting them down one by one.
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i-write-sometimes-maybe · 2 years ago
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Steve Knows Now- Natasha Romanov x FemReader!(NSFW)
Synopsis: You couldn’t keep quiet anymore, you just had to brag about your not-so-subtle secret in the best way possible.
Warnings: SMUT, dom reader sub nat, song fic but like it’s not long, implications (totally happened not even implying) of cheating, marking, strap-ons, packing but not mentioned, fingering, cunnilingus, daddy kink, I think that’s all.?
Word Count: 3k
A/n: Nat is my baby 🥹 and she’s such a baby don’t come for me, you know it’s true. I live and breathe for bottom nat so that’s what I made 🥰 All likes, comments, and reblogs are welcomed!
© This is my work, you have no right to repost my work for any reason without my explicit permission, all rights reserved.
☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎
Steve was mocking one of your habits, or at least you think. You were too busy drinking in the sight of Natasha next to him. The way that dress hugged her perfectly, she knew it was one of your favorites and that's why she wore it tonight.
You don't even know what tonight was, you just came because Nat would be there. Of course, knowing Stark, there probably wasn't even a reason for this party.
You and Natasha had a little secret. Actually, you two didn't even bother to hide the fact that you were together behind Steve's back. So, technically, it's not behind his back but more of directly in front of his face. It's not your fault he's too damn blind to see it.
Once again, Steve said something about you that made the team chuckle but you couldn't care less. With his last comment, a scoff of amusement came from you. That sound earned the attention of everyone on the team, they assumed you simply weren't paying attention. Which was partially true.
Confused faces overtook everyone but you, and Natasha, you were smirking at her.
And she knew exactly what you were planning when you looked from Steve to her, and back to Steve.
Nat leaned back against the seat, taking a sip of the beer in her hand, "Y/n, I wouldn't."
"Too late sweetheart. Steve, you seem to be having fun, yeah?" You leaned forward and put your elbows on your knees, your hands clasped together before you ran your thumbs against themselves.
Natasha's eyes went straight to your hands, that move of hers was not lost on you.
His chuckle died a bit, "I was, yeah." Annoyance was beginning to cloud his features.
He may not have noticed that you and Nat were sleeping together, but he certainly noticed the unashamed flirting you did with her.
He thought that his empty threats would deter you but, if anything, they motivated you more. Besides you already being able to get what you want easily, something about her being 'off-limits' made the desire for her even stronger than it already was.
You hummed, "Well, every other day I have fun too. I just don't know how you're so trusting."
Your dislike for Steve, and his equal amount of dislike for you, was clear to everyone and you didn't care. You could feel the tension beginning to rise in the air as everyone wearily watched the interaction between you two.
Tony piped in, his thirst for drama coming to play, "What do you mean?"
Your tongue peeked out to wet your bottom lip, another move of yours that enticed Natasha, "Stevie doesn't know."
"Know what?" Steve was getting impatient.
"Y/n-" You looked at Natasha, the sudden eye contact took her by surprise, unintentionally cutting her off.
"Stevie doesn't know, that Natasha and me do it in her bed every Sunday."
Everyone's jaw dropped except Steve's, you could see his jaw clench from your seat, Natasha avoids his glance and you can tell she's hiding a smirk of her own.
"She tells him she's in training but she doesn't go, but she's sweating still and Stevie doesn't know." You said, smirking.
"I told you not to tell him." Natasha finally speaks up. Steve's eyes snap to Natasha, as well as everyone else's.
"Wait, she's not ly-" Steve bafflingly starts before you cut him off.
You look at Nat, "Steve needs to know, so I've gotta tell Steve. I just can't believe he's so trusting, while I'm behind you thrusting." You move to sit up in a more confident yet cocky position, glancing back to Steve, "Natasha's got him on the phone, but she's trying not to moan. It's a three-way call and he knows nothing."
A mischievous look overtook Natasha's face, "He didn't need to know."
"Well, he was going to find out soon enough. You know, honestly, I'm surprised you didn't figure it out sooner, I wasn't hiding a damn thing." The smirk never left your face as you looked at Steve, daring to hold his attention, "But I have got to say, the look on your face right now is the second-best thing I've seen."
The look of shock, confusion, anger, envy and defeat was covering his face. It was the best he's ever looked in your opinion.
Tony was way too invested in what was happening, "What's the first?" The attention of the rest of the team was on you, some were enjoying the free show while others simply couldn't believe what was happening before them.
Your eyes burned into Natasha's and she stopped trying to hide her smirk, you chuckle before answering Tony, "Natasha when she comes, of course, Steve wouldn't know."
Natasha chuckled with you while everyone else in the room was silent.
Steve opened his mouth to give you a reply, something that portrays his thoughts, anything, but nothing came out.
A faux pout came to your face, "What's the matter, Steve? Spider got your tongue? Don't worry, that won't be a problem for you anymore"
You stood up from your seat, Nat's eyes followed every move of yours as you bent down and picked her up, throwing her over your shoulder in one swift move, "She's mine now."
Natasha halfheartedly waved to the team, mainly to Steve, "Bye!" A full laugh finally escaped you at her comment, you couldn't hold it back any longer.
You began walking Nat to your room. Walking through the doorway, you just couldn't restrain yourself, it's not like you wanted to anyways, your hand swiftly came down against her ass, earning a whimper from the redhead.
A squeal came from her as you took her from your shoulder, tossing her onto the bed. Any comment that would've come from her was stopped by your lips against hers. Your lips moved together rhythmically, as if they were meant to be joined together. Every kiss with her is just like the first, just as passionate and exciting, the same flutter finding its home within the pit of your stomach.
You simply could not get enough of her.
You began to trail your lips to her jaw and down to her neck, occasionally suckling at a few spots to mark her as yours.
"You shouldn't have done that." She said breathlessly due to your lips on her neck.
You pulled away from her just enough to look into her eyes, "They'd find out eventually. Besides, you're mine. Now, I don't have to hide you. And you don't have to be quiet anymore." A moan leaves her throat as you bit the skin just above her collarbone.
As you worked on adding more marks onto her neck, your hands were beginning to undo the zipper of her dress. The skin-tight garment was no match for your need to feel her skin, your skillful fingers began to pull the fabric slowly from Nat's body, much to her dismay.
Her body pushed against yours, to help you ease the dress off of her but mainly so she can feel more of you.
Natasha's mind was raging with many things, that much was clear, but the thought of possible complaints of you two becoming known to the team began to rise to the surface. That doesn't mean she's having any doubts about the relationship with you, just that she doesn't want hear the opinions of the others. It's not like they could possibly change her mind.
You were nipping the exposed skin of her breast that was peeking out above her bra, "This a good idea, right?" She spoke breathlessly.
You looked up at her in question, knowing very well what her answer will be, "Do you want me to stop?"
Slight fear became apparent in her features, "No! Please, don't stop."
"That's what I thought." You spoke with a chuckle.
Nat could only describe the pace you were trailing your lips at, as torture. Nothing has ever simplified her into nothing but a mess faster than you taking your sweet time.
You were leaving marks on every spot you landed, loving the way she squirmed each time. You continued at your slow pace, going lower and lower where she wanted you, needed you.
It wasn't a secret that you had wound Natasha up and it was clear just how much by the way she reacted to you and your touch. As you got to the base of her stomach you could feel her begin to push you further, or tried to.
A groan left the redhead as you moved back from her, a smirk coming back to your lips when you saw her wetness through her panties.
"You're desperate for me, aren't you?" She eagerly nodded, "I need an answer, baby."
"Yes, I am! God, you were so hot tonight. I need you, please touch me." You were slightly surprised as it was more than you were expecting to come from her.
Her body was writhing beneath you, enticing you to her. And you could've continued to tease her until she quite literally couldn't take it anymore, but you were just as excited to see her fall apart as she was desperate.
Even though you had no intention of making this part of your night quick, you were going to make it last as long as she could take, you swiftly pulled her panties down her legs and tossed them somewhere unimportant.
You continued with your teasing, suckling and biting all across her thighs, yet skipping over her dripping pussy.
Nat's breathing had increased, her patience quickly dwindling, "Baby, please!"
You looked up at her from your position, instantly meeting her pleading green eyes, "Please, what?"
She whimpered as you bit a spot on her thigh, "Please, just touch me already. I can't take it anymore. Please, Daddy."
A sadistic smile came to your face, your eyes never leaving hers as you finally moved to where she wanted you. Her eyes closed, mouth falling agape as soon as your tongue licked up her sensitive pussy.
Her hand flew to your hair, nails digging into your scalp as you began to move your tongue to collect her wetness. Unholy, yet heavenly, moans started to come from her as you swirled her clit.
Her back began to arch off the mattress as she fisted the sheet with her free hand. Her moans only became more frequent as you gradually increased the speed of your tongue.
You knew just how much she enjoyed this, and how close she was to her bliss, by the way her body tensed underneath you.
Every toned muscle of hers was flexed, the familiar sheen of sweat began take over her smooth skin, and you just adored when she looked like this.
You were debating wether or not you'd be oh so nice enough to let her come right away this time, but seeing and feeling Natasha fall apart under you made that decision for you. And it's just too damn good to pass up.
"I'm gonna come!" Natasha interrupted your thought.
You lifted your head up just enough to be able to speak, "Yeah?" The vibrations and warm breath from your words was nearly enough to send the redhead over the edge.
"Yes! Please, please can I come?"
She moaned even louder as you resumed your prior actions. You looked up her glistening body to watch the sight of her coming, something you always look forward to, and hummed your approval.
"Fuck, Y/n!" Her body tensed even further when she finally came, soon relaxing flat on the bed after.
You began making your way up to her head, leaving open mouthed kisses across every inch of her soft skin. You occasionally left love bites wherever you felt like it.
You had just left your biggest and darkest mark on her neck, "Fuck, baby, you taste so good." You whispered into her ear.
That sentence must've ignited something within the redhead as she reached out and pulled you into a kiss, one just as hard and passionate as the one from the start of this night.
You slowly move your hand over every inch of her exposed skin, savoring the softness of it, enjoying the goosebumps she gets from your light touch, absolutely loving the way she squirms under you as a silent beg for more.
Natasha was becoming more impatient, the desire for you only growing with every passing second. She couldn't take it anymore, she needed something. In an attempt for some friction, Nat thrusted her hips up in search of you.
With that thrust of her hips she found the strap that you had kept hidden, up until this point, from her. She mewled at her discovery, her arousal growing tenfold.
You looked into her emerald eyes, "What? Did you think I'd go into a party without a little treat for you?"
"Little?" She smirked.
"You and I both know it's not, you're too much of a size queen for that." You smirked in return.
Her jaw dropped, in feux offense, "I am not!"
Your smirk never faltered as you thrusted your hips just enough for the strap to make contact with her bare pussy again. The sudden sensation pulled a whimper from her swollen lips, proving your statement true.
She rolled her eyes when she saw the cocky grin on your face.
You stayed, unmoving, for just a moment until your attention was brought back to your joint hips. Natasha was grinding herself against you, well, trying to.
"You needy little slut. You just can't help yourself can you?" You halted her actions by pressing her hips into the mattress.
"I can't take it anymore, please just fuck me already!"
"Oh but I have been, darling."
A sound of frustration came from her, "You know what I mean."
"Do I? I think you may have to be specific," You leaned closer to her ear again. "Tell me what you want me to do to you. Beg for it."
Nat attempted to stifle her moans at your words, just falling short of success. Her breathtaking green eyes darkened with lust as the possibilities of what's to come were raging through her mind.
"I want you to fuck me," She wrapped her legs around your waist. "I want you to fuck me so hard until I can't speak. Fuck me like you own me. Use me, daddy. Only you can make me feel so good."
A smirk found it's home on your lips. In on swift move, you untangled her from around your waist and flipped her over. You ran your fingertips down her spine and past her shoulders, moving to entangle in her hair. With your handful of her fiery locks, you pulled her back and flushed against you.
Your free hand was sneakily pulling the strap free from its confinements, "Oh princess, I do own you. You are my dirty girl." You accentuated your statement with a slap on her ass.
With the leverage of your grip in her hair, you pushed her back down but kept her hips in the air, perfectly aligned for what's to come.
"Isn't that right?" A blissful cry spilled from her lips as the strap entered her, gliding in effortlessly from her wetness.
"God, yes!" Almost instantly, she was moaning at a pace that matched your merciless speed.
You always loved taking the redhead from behind, seeing how well she was able to take your ministrations. You adored the way her whole body reacted to the strap deep inside of her.
You relocated your hands to grip at her hips, her curves fitting perfectly to your palms.
The new grip gave you better leverage to pound deeper into Nat, just the way she likes it.
"Shit." She muttered as her arms gave out beneath her, resulting in her chest being flush against the sheets.
She fisted the sheets until her knuckles turned white. Nat's quick and quiet pants had shifted into squeals that only got louder with each thrust.
You knew that the moment you saw her thighs quiver, that she was close, only she couldn't quite fall over the edge without your permission.
"Are you gonna come baby?"
She nodded vigorously against the sheets, words unable to formulate in her mind from the overwhelming pleasure she was currently experiencing.
Your movements never stopped, nor did they ease up, even when you bent over her. You used her throat as leverage to pull her against you once again, only this time your hand remained in its spot.
A deep moan sounded from her at the new angle you were driving the strap, "Scream my name. Tell everyone in this building who you belong to, baby."
You knew she wasn't far from her orgasm, your other hand from her hip slid forward and started circling her clit to help her finally fall over the edge, "Oh, FUCK Y/N! YES!"
Moans were still pouring out of her even as you slowed your pace, giving her a chance to savor everything you were giving her. Her hips twitched with the pleasure that was continuing to come over her.
Both of your hands moved to her waist to help keep her supported as her body relaxed against you, "Just like that, baby."
Natasha whimpered as you pulled the strap from her, she was instantly missing the way you filled her perfectly. You always loved how well she could handle you, regardless if you chose to edge her to the heavens or when you fucked her until she saw stars, and she adored it all.
You moved to lay on the bed, pulling her against your still-clad body as you did so. The heat from her bare body radiated from her, warming you even further.
"You did so well for me, princess." You whispered as one hand moved to cover her up with a blanket as the other softly ran through her lightly dampened locks.
A knowing chuckle emitted from her, "Only 'cause you fuck me so well."
A smirk returned to your face, "Oh I know I do, and now others finally know too."
Nat shimmied closer to your side and you started to mindlessly draw patterns onto her shoulder.
No matter what it was, you always enjoyed spending time with Nat. Especially when it was like this, just the two of you being as close as possible.
"Y/n?" Nat moved her head up ever so slightly.
"Yeah, baby?"
"I love you."
A smile came to your face and you planted a kiss to the top of her head, "I love you too, Nat."
🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮
Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @just-your-casual-nerd @v3nusxsky @pebbleswritessometimes @bigolgay @scream-queenlover @darkth1ngs @sgelessoanddoveykissing
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l0nelyish · 1 day ago
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Happy Xmas (War Is Over)
prompt: Natasha needs some cheering up this holiday season. And you seem to have just the right idea.
not a song fic, but the title seemed fitting ;)
happy holidays! x
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~~~~~~~
Natasha was thrown off by the weather. Slowly, everything seemed more gloomy and so white, she could barely see New York’s outline out of her huge window. Sitting behind her desk, she decided on doing some more paperwork. The avenger was never one to just lose herself in the Christmas spirit, she didn’t get the ‘charm’ it held.
Only two doors ahead, you were humming to the soft tune of ‘Driving Home For Christmas’ while wrapping some last-minute gifts you bought. Excitement filled you and a soft smile graced your features thinking of the holiday season and spending Christmas intimately with the avengers, who pretty much became your family over the last couple of months. In the middle of wrapping a customized arrow for Clint, you noticed the lack of glue. “Shit”, you murmured and started looking desperately for some little sticky pieces.
Two minutes later, you declared your own defeat. You let out a loud sigh and figured you needed another option.
Natasha’s eyebrow twitched in anticipation and confusion once she heard a soft knock on her door. “Friday, unlock my door please.” “Alright, Ms. Romanoff. I am letting Ms. Y/L/N in.” Natasha watched you step into her space and sent you a soft smile.
“Hey! I didn’t mean to bother, I just ran out of glue for my gift wrappings and I wondered if you might have some stripes for me.”, you sent her a grin and stepped closer, leaning onto her desk.
“Sure, let me look for it.”, Natasha started rummaging through her desk. You turned around and took a look around her room. In the 10 months you’ve been living with the team, you can finger count how many times you stepped into Natasha’s room. But it were enough times to notice that she hasn’t changed even a bit of decor into a more joyful and warm flair. “No Christmas decor, huh?”, you smirked. The question threw her off guard a little and her hands stilled in one of her drawers for a second. “Very attentive, are we? No. Christmas is not really my thing. And I never go big on decoration.”, she sent you a smile, almost apologetically.
You hummed and nodded: “Yeah, I guess it’s not for everyone. I just thought you might be a bit more joyful, I mean.. I heard you like to celebrate with Clint’s family and kids are so- ecstatic?”
Natasha chuckled: “Yeah, they love it. And i love seeing the joy on their faces, that’s enough holiday spirit for me.”, she shrugged and handed you the glue stripes.
“Thank you!”, you took them and turned to leave her room. On your way out, you stalled. “You know”, you faced her again, making Natasha look up: “maybe we could go on a walk? Just to get you into a more ‘joyful’ mood. Because sitting behind a stack of mission reports, that won’t run away, is a little lousy-“, you closed the door and walked away, not giving Natasha much time to process your words. She shook her head, chuckling. Sometimes, you reminded her of a child, or a puppy. But she wouldn’t trade you for anything or anyone. Natasha grew so fond of you, in fact, her heart bursts every time she sees you around.
Ten minutes passed and you found yourself knocking on her door again. This time, Natasha opened it herself. She was already dressed properly and wrapped in a scarf with a black knitted beanie on her head, a tiny red hourglass symbol sewn into it. She sent you a smile and locked her door with her code.
“So, where are we going?”
“Just for a walk around the compound. If that’s alright.”
“That’s definitely alright. Lead the way.”
You two spent the next twenty minutes walking through the woods. The snow seemed to fall slower, much softer. It was now an almost mesmerizing sight to Natasha. But just almost, because you starring up at the sky happily was more dear to her. Precious, in a way.
“You know, maybe you should decorate a little. I think it would be good for you, Tash.”, she nodded slowly. There was an unspoken understanding, you didn’t need to ask why she doesn’t enjoy Christmas, you just accepted her the way she is. And Natasha didn’t find you pushy, she knew you meant the best for her, for everyone.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right… maybe- maybe you would like to help me out?”, you hugged her reassuringly. Another silent agreement.
As you kept returning to the compound, Nat suddenly let go of your hand. Sneakily she faked fixing her shoe lace and you didn’t bother checking on her. You only turned around, in pure shock, once you felt something utterly cold hit your neck. There she was, letting out the most uncontrolled and carefree laugh you’ve ever heard the redhead make. “You did not just-“
“Whoops. My bad!”, she smirked.
“Oh. It’s so on, Romanoff.”, you said lowly, crouching slowly to form a snowball of your own.
Several minutes later, you both looked as white as the ground you’ve been standing on. The last thrown snowball landed on your chin and Natasha reached over gently to wipe some of the white substance off your face. This was the closest she’s ever been to you and you felt your breath hitch. Not because of the cold, but because of the anticipation. Oh, how gentle her features seemed up close. How beautiful her eyes are. It seemed like time moved even slower and Natasha gently cupped your cheek, as if to memorize your face.
“You know”, she whispered, just for the two of you to hear: “maybe Christmas isn’t so bad, after all.” “I’m glad I could help. You deserve this as much as anyone else, Natasha. You deserve to be happy.”
Natasha slowly leaned in and captured your lips in a sealed kiss. You both smiled into it, finding the joy within the bond you share. And she never lacked of a Christmas spirit again, having you by her side.
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ncis-nerd · 5 months ago
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Stress Relief
warnings: smut, strap on (nat using), oral (r giving), petnames, praise, slight degradation, strap sucking, fingering but with tongue, slight nipple play, cuddling, dom!nat, aftercare.
18+
Natasha Romanov x Reader
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natasha romanov was a spy who almost always overworked herself. so she appreciated having a perfect little angel baby to go home to. especially one who let nat release all her built up stress and anger on her in the bedroom.
so of course natasha was in awe as she as your mouth wrap around her strap, this one was way bigger than any other strap you had taken before, but you were eager to please nat. greatful for anything she'd give you.
she groaned softly, seeing you take her strap, inch by inch in your mouth. your little gags and noises just added to natasha's pleasure.
once she made sure you were able to take all of it, she began softly fucking your face. careful not to hurt you, but began to speed up.
her hand rested on your cheek as she pounded her strap into your mouth, "oh malyshka, you look so fucking perfect for me, angel.." nat groaned at how innocent you looked. how much of a good girl you were being for her.
a string of drool dripped down your lips. "mm, daddy's little cockslut has no thoughts in her head, do you? all you know is to suck." natasha cooed at you softly, stroking your hair.
natasha's hands traveled down to your chest, tugging on your nipple. she felt even more turned on when she felt your nipples harden between her fingers.
"so responsive dove, you turned on for daddy? hm?" natasha hummed, as your eyes met hers.
"love your little sounds, bunny." nat praised, your mouth glistened from how messy you were, your eyes so glassy eyes. god, you looked so perfect like this.
natasha loved that your trusted her this much to submit to her all the time, giving nat full control. but also how you willing you were to help her relax, by letting her dominate you.
natasha's legs were started to get tired, she was thinking of calling it a night when you had the idea to show natasha just how much you loved her.
nat had discard her strap, getting ready to clean up when you straddled her lap. "baby?" natasha looked up at you, with a raised eyebrow. "shh, natty let me show you how much you mean to me.." you murmured before shifting down to natasha's cunt.
"fuck" natasha groaned, getting the hint of what you were about to do.
your hands rested on nat's thighs, keeping them open. your eyes fluttered up at natasha, making sure that she was still in the mood. she gave you a nod of confirmation.
your tongue swiped a long stripe down nat's cunt, your mouth sucking on her clit. "fuck, just like that baby" natasha groaned, her eyes twitched slightly. your tongue grazed her entrace, "don't tease me baby" natasha whimpered, gripping your hair. your tongue started to thrust in and out of natasha, your sloppy movements brought her to a quick orgasm.
you couldn't help but notice how wet she was, how bad she needed this relief, to get off. as you begin to abuse her clit, she pulled you away. "too.. too much, dove" natasha sighed, bringing you to her chest.
she held you close, stroking your hair gently. she needed this, to hold her baby after a intense day at work. your hands traced light circles on natasha's skin.
"thank you, my love" natasha whispered, her eyes struggling to stay open. "of course, natty. rest now, i'm right here. not going anywhere, daddy." you spoke, laying your head in the crook of her neck.
thank v for this master piece because this inspired me to writeee:3 @oceaseaa
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natsgrave · 6 months ago
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THE SMALLEST WOMAN WHO EVER LIVED | natasha romanoff
and i don't miss what we had, but could someone give a message to the smallest woman who ever lived? i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! masterlist whispers of heartache m.list
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The night was dark, and the moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the cityscape. Shadows danced across the abandoned warehouse where she had taken refuge, a place forgotten by time and society. The woman sat in a corner, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her body trembling from exhaustion and fear. Her name was Y/N, but she hadn't been called that in years. To HYDRA, she was known only as Subject 47.
For years, Y/N had been their pawn, subjected to torturous experiments designed to unlock her latent powers. She had been forced to use those powers in ways she could never have imagined, becoming a weapon in HYDRA's arsenal. But she had endured, biding her time, waiting for the moment when she could break free. That moment had come, and now she was on the run, trying to stay one step ahead of the organization that had taken everything from her.
The memories of her escape were still fresh in her mind: the alarms blaring, the shouts of the guards, the searing pain of the injuries she had sustained. But she had made it out, and that was all that mattered. She had to keep moving, had to stay hidden. She couldn't afford to be found, not now.
As she sat in the darkness, her thoughts drifted back to the years of torment she had endured. She remembered the faces of the scientists who had experimented on her, the cold, clinical way they had treated her, as if she were nothing more than a specimen. She remembered the pain, the isolation, the despair. But most of all, she remembered the moments when she had been forced to use her powers to harm others, to carry out HYDRA's will. Those memories haunted her, gnawing at her conscience.
She knew she couldn't go back to being the person she once was. That person was gone, replaced by someone who had been forged in fire and darkness. But she also knew she couldn't let HYDRA win. She had to survive, no matter the cost.
Y/N's powers were formidable. She had the ability to manipulate energy, to create devastating blasts of force that could level buildings. She could also control minds, bending others to her will. These abilities had made her a valuable asset to HYDRA, but they were also a constant reminder of the monster she had become.
She had tried to lay low, to stay out of sight. But it was difficult. Her powers were unpredictable, and sometimes they manifested in ways she couldn't control. And then there was the constant need for resources. Food, money, shelter— these were things she couldn't simply conjure out of thin air. She had turned to a life of crime, using her powers to rob, to steal, to survive. It was a dark path, but it was the only one she knew.
One night, as she was preparing to leave the warehouse and find another place to hide, she heard a noise. Her heart raced as she turned, her powers at the ready. A figure emerged from the shadows, a woman with a determined look in her eyes.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice cold and wary. "How did you find me?"
The woman raised her hands in a gesture of peace. "My name is Natasha," she said calmly. "I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to talk."
"Talk?" Y/N scoffed. "I don't have time for talking. If you're HYDRA, you won't leave here alive."
"I'm not HYDRA," Natasha assured her. "I know what they did to you. I know what you're capable of. I'm here to help."
Y/N narrowed her eyes, her suspicion evident. "Why should I trust you?"
"Because I've been where you are," Natasha replied, her voice softening. "I know what it's like to be used, to be turned into something you're not. But you don't have to keep living this way. There are people who can help you, who can help you control your powers, who can give you a chance at a new life."
Y/N's resolve wavered. She wanted to believe her, but trust was a luxury she couldn't afford. "How do I know you're not lying?"
Natasha took a step closer, her eyes filled with sincerity. "You don't. But you have a choice. You can keep running, keep hiding, keep doing things you hate. Or you can take a chance, and maybe— just maybe— find a way out of this darkness."
Y/N stared at Natasha, her mind racing. She had spent so long fighting, so long surviving. The idea of something better, something different, was almost too much to hope for. But as she looked into Natasha's eyes, she saw something she hadn't seen in a long time: hope.
"Alright," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll listen. But if this is a trap, if you're lying to me…"
"I'm not," Natasha interrupted gently. "I promise you, you're not alone anymore."
And for the first time in years, Y/N allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a way out of the darkness after all.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Over the next few weeks, Y/N and Natasha grew closer. The walls Y/N had built around herself slowly began to crumble as Natasha showed her a different way to live, a way that didn't involve fear and isolation. They spent their days training, honing Y/N's powers with precision and control, and their evenings talking, sharing stories of their pasts.
One evening, they sat on the rooftop of an old building, the city lights twinkling below them. The air was cool, and a gentle breeze rustled their hair. Y/N sat on the edge of the rooftop, her legs dangling over the side as she stared out at the city lights. The memory she was about to share was one she had buried deep within herself, a wound that had never fully healed. But Natasha's presence, her understanding, gave Y/N the courage to finally let it out.
"It was one of the worst days," Y/N began, her voice barely above a whisper. Natasha's eyes gazed into her softly, curious about what she was about to share. "I had been with HYDRA for a few years by then. They had already started experimenting on me, trying to unlock my powers. I was in so much pain, all the time. But this day… this day was different."
Natasha sat beside her, listening intently, her eyes filled with empathy.
"They had me in this lab," Y/N continued, her gaze distant as she relived the memory. "It was cold, sterile. The walls were lined with equipment, and there were a dozen scientists there, all watching me like I was some kind of animal. They strapped me to a table, injected me with something. It burned, like fire coursing through my veins. I screamed, but they didn't care. They just watched, taking notes."
Y/N paused, her hands trembling as she clenched them into fists. Natasha reached out, gently placing a hand on her arm, grounding her.
"I could feel my powers surging," she said, her voice shaking. "It was like they had torn down a dam inside me, and the energy was flooding out. I couldn't control it. I couldn't stop it. They had these targets set up, and they told me to destroy them. I didn't want to, but the pain… it was unbearable. So I did. I blasted them apart, one after another."
Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, but she forced herself to continue. "Then they brought in… people. Prisoners, they said. Enemies of HYDRA. They wanted me to use my powers on them. I refused. I begged them to stop, but they just laughed. One of the scientists, Dr. Zola, he was the worst. He looked at me with such contempt. He told me that if I didn't do as they asked, they would make the pain even worse."
Natasha's grip on Y/N's arm tightened, a silent offer of support.
"So I did it," Y/N whispered, the tears now streaming down her face. "I used my powers on those people. I saw the fear in their eyes, heard their screams. I tried to hold back, to minimize the damage, but it was no use. I could see what I was doing to them, the horror and pain I was causing. And all the while, Dr. Zola was there, taking notes, completely detached from the suffering."
Y/N's voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands, sobbing. Natasha pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly as she cried.
"It wasn't your fault," Natasha murmured softly. "They forced you. You were a victim, Y/N, just like those people."
Y/N shook her head, the guilt and shame overwhelming her. "I still see their faces, Natasha. Every night, the same nightmare. I can never forget what I did."
"You were put in an impossible situation," Natasha said firmly, pulling back to look Y/N in the eyes. "HYDRA did that to you, not the real you. The real you is the person sitting here with me, the person who has the strength to fight back, to survive. You are not defined by what they made you do."
Y/N nodded, though the pain was still raw. "I want to believe that. I really do. But it's hard."
"I know it is," Natasha replied, her voice gentle. "But you're not alone anymore. We'll get through this together. We'll find a way to make things right, to move forward."
Y/N took a deep breath, the weight of her past still heavy on her shoulders, but there was a glimmer of hope in her heart. With Natasha by her side, she felt a strength she hadn't known in years.
"Thank you, Natasha," she said quietly. "For listening. For being here."
"Always," Natasha replied, a small, reassuring smile on her lips. "We'll face this together, Y/N. One step at a time."
And as the night stretched on, they sat together on the rooftop, two kindred spirits bound by their pasts but looking forward to a future they could shape with their own hands.
"You know," Y/N said, her eyes fixed on the horizon, "I've never told anyone that before. Not even the other subjects."
Natasha nodded, her expression thoughtful. "It takes a lot of courage to share something like that. I'm honored you trust me."
Y/N glanced at her, a small smile playing on her lips. "You've given me a reason to trust again. I never thought I'd feel that way after everything that's happened."
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the weight of their shared experiences hanging in the air. But a nagging thought had been bothering Y/N for days, and she knew she had to address it.
"Natasha," she began hesitantly, "there's something I need to ask you."
Natasha turned to her, her expression open and encouraging. "Anything, Y/N. What is it?"
Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. "How did you find me? I mean, really find me. I've been running for so long, staying off the grid. It doesn't make sense."
Natasha's face grew serious, and she looked down at her hands for a moment before meeting Y/N's gaze. "I understand why you're curious. The truth is, I was able to find you because of my past. You see, I wasn't always… on the side of the angels."
Y/N's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Natasha sighed, her eyes distant as she delved into her memories. "I was trained by a group called the Red Room. It's an organization that turns young girls into assassins, into weapons. They took me when I was just a child and molded me into what they wanted. I was one of their best."
Y/N listened intently, her heart aching at the pain in Natasha's voice. "That sounds… horrible. I'm so sorry, Natasha."
Natasha shook her head. "It's in the past. But the skills they taught me, the connections I made— they're how I was able to track you down. I recognized the signs of someone trying to hide, because I've been there myself."
Y/N's eyes widened in realization. "So you used your training to find me?"
Natasha nodded. "Yes. But not to hurt you. To help you. I saw a kindred spirit in you, someone who had been used and discarded. I wanted to give you a chance to break free, to find your own path."
Y/N's emotions swirled within her. "Thank you, Natasha. I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," Natasha replied, her voice gentle. "Just know that we can face our pasts together and create a better future."
As the weeks turned into months, their bond grew stronger. They trained together, pushing each other to their limits, and spent their downtime sharing stories and dreams. Y/N found herself opening up more and more, revealing details about her life before HYDRA, her hopes and fears. Natasha, in turn, shared her own experiences, the pain and triumphs that had shaped her into who she was.
One evening, after a particularly grueling training session, they sat on the rooftop again, watching the sunset. Y/N turned to Natasha, her heart full of gratitude and something she hadn't felt in a long time.
"Natasha," she said softly, "thank you for everything. You've given me a reason to believe in myself again."
Natasha smiled, a warmth in her eyes that made Y/N's heart swell. "You've always had that strength, Y/N. You just needed someone to remind you of it."
And in that moment, surrounded by the fading light of the day, Y/N knew that she had found not just a friend, but a kindred spirit. Someone who understood her pain, her struggles, and her dreams. Together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead, and for the first time in years, Y/N felt truly free.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Months and months passed, and Y/N and Natasha became inseparable. Natasha taught Y/N everything from combat techniques to espionage tactics, sharing stories of her own childhood in the Red Room and even recounting funny anecdotes that brought laughter back into Y/N's life. The once distant and cautious Y/N now felt a warmth she hadn't experienced in years.
Y/N sat on the edge of her bed one night, staring at the ceiling, her mind filled with thoughts of Natasha. Every day, she found herself falling deeper in love with the woman who had not only saved her but also given her a reason to live again. Natasha's strength, compassion, and unwavering support had become a beacon in Y/N's life, guiding her through the darkness.
But with those feelings came fear. Y/N was terrified that if she confessed her love, it might push Natasha away. Despite Natasha being a trained assassin with an uncanny ability to read people, Y/N had managed to keep her feelings hidden. She didn't want to risk losing the one person who meant everything to her.
One afternoon, they were training in an abandoned gym they had discovered. The space was perfect for their needs— isolated, spacious, and filled with old equipment that they could use for their rigorous routines. As they sparred, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at Natasha's agility and skill. Even after months of training, Natasha still amazed her with her prowess.
"You're getting better every day," Natasha said, wiping sweat from her brow as they took a break. "I'm proud of you, Y/N."
Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with warmth. "I have a great teacher."
Natasha chuckled, but there was a hint of seriousness in her eyes. "It's not just about the training. It's about finding yourself, trusting yourself. And you're doing that."
Y/N nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude. "Thank you, Natasha. For everything."
Natasha's expression softened. "You don't have to thank me. We're in this together."
As they sat on the gym floor, catching their breath, Natasha began to share another story from her past, this time about a mission that had gone hilariously wrong. Y/N laughed, feeling the tension in her chest ease as the sound of Natasha's laughter filled the room.
"You should have seen the look on his face when the cat jumped out of the box instead of the intel we were expecting." Natasha said, grinning. Avoiding to mention any name.
Y/N shook her head, still laughing. "I wish I could have been there."
Natasha's smile faded slightly, replaced by a thoughtful look. "You know, Y/N, I don't think I've ever felt this close to anyone before. It's… different."
Y/N's heart skipped a beat, and she looked down, trying to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. "Yeah, it's different for me too."
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken feelings hanging in the air. Y/N wanted so desperately to tell Natasha how she felt, but the fear held her back.
One evening, they decided to take a break from training and relax on the rooftop of their safe house. The night was clear, and the stars were scattered across the sky like diamonds. They lay on their backs, side by side, staring up at the cosmos.
"Do you ever wonder what it would be like to have a normal life?" Y/N asked softly.
Natasha sighed. "Sometimes. But I think we make our own normal, don't you? Whatever that looks like."
Y/N turned her head to look at Natasha, her heart aching with unspoken words. "I think you're right."
Natasha met her gaze, her eyes searching Y/N's. "Y/N, is there something you want to tell me?"
Y/N's breath caught in her throat. The moment had come, and she felt both terrified and exhilarated. "I… Natasha, I—"
Before she could finish, a loud noise from the street below startled them both. They sat up quickly, their training kicking in as they scanned the area for potential threats. After a few tense moments, they realized it was just a group of teenagers making noise.
Natasha sighed in relief, then looked at Y/N with a small smile. "I guess we'll have to save the deep conversations for another time."
Y/N nodded, her heart still pounding. "Yeah, another time."
As they settled back down, Y/N felt a mix of disappointment and relief. The moment had passed, but the feelings remained. She knew she couldn't keep them hidden forever, but for now, she was content to cherish the bond they had, hoping that one day she would find the courage to tell Natasha how deeply she cared for her.
The night had settled into a comfortable stillness, the kind that Y/N had come to appreciate in her new life with Natasha. They had spent the evening on the rooftop, their bond growing even stronger with every shared story and laugh. But the moment of potential confession had been interrupted, leaving Y/N with a mix of emotions that she couldn't quite sort through.
"Hey, I'm going to run to the store to grab a few things," Natasha said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. "Do you need anything?"
Y/N shook her head, offering a warm smile. "No, I'm good. Just hurry back."
Natasha grinned. "Won't be long."
As the door closed behind Natasha, Y/N found herself alone in the quiet apartment. She tried to shake off the lingering thoughts of her unspoken feelings, instead focusing on the simple task of tidying up their training equipment, replaying the evening's conversation in her mind, wondering how she might finally confess her feelings to Natasha. She was just about to sit down and relax when she heard the door creak open again.
"Natasha, that was quick." she began, turning around with a smile. But her words died on her lips as she took in the sight before her.
Instead of Natasha, a group of several figures stood in the doorway, none of whom were Natasha. Y/N's heart began to race.
Steve Rogers, Captain America, stepped forward. His expression was firm but not unkind. "Y/N, we need you to come with us."
Y/N's heart raced, confusion and fear flooding her mind. "How did you find me? Who are you?"
Clint Barton, Hawkeye, responded calmly, "We're the Avengers. We need you to come peacefully. We don't want to hurt you."
But Y/N shook her head, taking a step back. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
Tony Stark, Iron Man, sighed. "We were hoping it wouldn't come to this."
"Y/N, please," Captain America urged, taking a step forward. "We don't want to fight you."
Without further warning, Y/N felt a surge of adrenaline. She couldn't let them take her. She had fought too hard, endured too much, to be captured now. Her powers, usually kept in check, surged uncontrollably as her fear and anger took over.
The energy crackling around her as she prepared for a confrontation. "I'm not leaving without a fight."
The battle began with a blur of movement. Y/N unleashed a blast of energy that sent Captain America flying backward, his shield barely absorbing the impact. Iron Man's repulsors fired in response, but Y/N dodged with agility, her movements a blur. Thor swung Mjolnir, but Y/N countered with a force field that deflected the mighty hammer.
Iron Man flew into the air, attempting to get a better angle for his attack. "She's fast. We need to contain her!"
Y/N responded by sending a wave of energy that disrupted Iron Man's flight, causing him to crash into a wall. He recovered quickly, his suit's systems recalibrating, but the momentary distraction gave Y/N the upper hand.
Captain America threw his shield, aiming for Y/N's legs to incapacitate her, but she leaped into the air, avoiding the strike and landing a powerful kick to his chest. He stumbled back but quickly regained his footing, his determination unwavering.
Thor charged at Y/N, lightning crackling around him. He swung Mjolnir with all his might, but Y/N created a barrier that absorbed the impact. She pushed back with a surge of energy, sending Thor skidding across the floor.
Clint shot an arrow aimed at disarming Y/N, but she deflected it with a wave of energy. Steve charged forward, his shield raised, but Y/N countered with a blast of force that once again, sent him skidding backward.
Tony, in his Iron Man suit, launched a series of repulsor blasts. Y/N dodged them with agility honed from months of training with Natasha. She retaliated with a powerful blast that knocked Tony off balance, sending him crashing into a wall.
Thor entered the fray, his hammer Mjolnir crackling with electricity. "Stay your hand, mortal! We mean you no harm!"
But Y/N was beyond reasoning. She unleashed a torrent of energy, attempting to fend off the god of thunder. The two clashed in a dazzling display of power, the air around them crackling with raw force.
As the battle raged on, Y/N's control over her powers slipped. She sent waves of destructive energy in all directions, causing the building to shake and debris to fall. The Avengers fought to contain her without causing her harm, but Y/N's desperation made her unpredictable.
In the midst of the chaos, Y/N caught sight of Natasha standing at the edge of the room, a look of pained determination on her face. Y/N's heart ached with a mix of relief and confusion. She was about to call out to Natasha, to tell her to run, when she saw Natasha raise her wrist, the Widow Bites charging with electricity.
"Natasha, no—" Y/N's words were cut off as the electric shock hit her. Pain surged through her body, and she collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. She fell to her knees, her vision blurring as she tried to process the betrayal.
Confusion, hurt, and betrayal were etched across Y/N's face as she looked up at Natasha. "Why?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the battle.
Natasha's eyes met Y/N's, a silent apology evident in their depths. "Y/N, please. Just listen—"
Before Natasha could finish, Tony approached Y/N cautiously, his helmet retracting to reveal his concerned face. "I'm sorry about this." he said softly, before administering a knockout shot that sent Y/N into unconsciousness.
The last thing Y/N saw was Natasha's face, torn between duty and the bond they had shared. As darkness enveloped her, Y/N's mind swirled with unanswered questions and a profound sense of betrayal.
When Y/N woke up, she found herself in a sterile, secure room, her hands restrained. The cold metal of the restraints bit into her skin, a harsh reminder of her new reality. The stark whiteness of the walls and the faint hum of machinery around her brought back a flood of memories she had desperately tried to bury. Her hands were restrained, the cold metal digging into her wrists, making escape impossible. Panic set in, and her mind raced as she tried to piece together the events that had led her here. The fight with the Avengers, Natasha's betrayal— it all felt like a nightmare she couldn't wake up from.
Memories from her time in HYDRA began to resurface, unbidden and relentless. She could almost feel the cold, damp walls of the cells they kept her in, hear the echo of her own screams as they experimented on her, pushing her to the brink of insanity. The pain had been unbearable, but the psychological torment was even worse. They had stripped her of her humanity, treating her like a lab rat, an object to be used and discarded.
She remembered the countless nights spent in isolation, the darkness her only companion. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional distant scream of another unfortunate soul. Y/N had learned to dread the sound of approaching footsteps, knowing it meant another round of torture or experiments. They had tried to break her, to mold her into their perfect weapon, and for a time, they had succeeded.
She could still see the faces of the scientists, their expressions cold and detached as they inflicted unimaginable pain on her. She had begged for mercy, for death, but they had only laughed, their eyes void of any empathy. The experiments had been brutal, designed to push her powers to their limits, often leaving her on the brink of death. They had injected her with unknown substances, subjected her to electric shocks, and forced her to endure endless physical and mental trials.
Her mind drifted to the times when she had been restrained, much like she was now, unable to move or defend herself. She could feel the tightness of the straps, the helplessness that had consumed her as she lay there, vulnerable and exposed. The scientists would talk about her as if she wasn't even there, discussing their next steps in cold, clinical terms. They had stripped her of her identity, reducing her to a mere experiment number.
The fear and anger she had felt during those years were now mingling with the sense of betrayal and hurt she felt towards Natasha. The two emotions intertwined, creating a storm of confusion and pain within her. She had thought she had found a semblance of peace, a way to move forward from her past, but now it all seemed to be crashing down around her.
Y/N's mind shifted to the happier memories she had shared with Natasha, the woman who had seemed to be her savior, her light in the darkness. The way Natasha had smiled at her, the sound of her laughter, the warmth of her touch— all of it felt like a cruel joke now.
How could someone who had meant so much to her be the same person who had deceived her so completely?
She remembered the nights spent talking with Natasha, sharing their deepest fears and dreams. Natasha had made her feel safe, cherished even, something she had never experienced before. The bond they had formed had been real, or so she had thought. The betrayal cut deeper because of the trust she had placed in Natasha, a trust that had been shattered in an instant.
The memories of their time together played in her mind like a cruel montage. Training sessions where Natasha had pushed her to be better, moments of laughter and camaraderie, the quiet evenings where they had simply enjoyed each other's presence. Y/N had opened up to Natasha in ways she had never done with anyone else, revealing parts of herself she had kept hidden for so long.
But now, all those memories felt tainted. She couldn't shake the image of Natasha standing there with the Avengers, the look of determination on her face as she shot Y/N with her Widow's Bite. The physical pain had been nothing compared to the emotional agony of realizing that the one person she had trusted had been sent to betray her.
Y/N's thoughts circled back to her time in HYDRA, the endless cycle of pain and hopelessness. She had endured so much, fought so hard to survive, only to be betrayed by the one person who had given her a reason to keep fighting. The feelings of helplessness and despair were overwhelming, threatening to consume her once more.
She could feel tears welling up, but she refused to let them fall. She had cried enough during her time in HYDRA, and she had vowed never to let herself be that vulnerable again. But the pain of Natasha's betrayal was too much to bear, reopening old wounds that had never truly healed.
Y/N closed her eyes, trying to shut out the memories, but they came flooding back with even greater intensity. The faces of the scientists, the cold, clinical environment, the pain, the screams— it all felt too real, too immediate. She had spent so long trying to bury those memories, to move past them, but now they were resurfacing with a vengeance.
She thought about the other subjects in HYDRA, the ones who hadn't survived. She could still hear their cries for help, their pleas for mercy. She had been one of the few to make it out alive, but at what cost? The memories of those who had perished haunted her, a constant reminder of the horrors she had endured.
Y/N tried to focus on her breathing, to calm herself, but it was a losing battle. The memories were too strong, too overwhelming. She felt like she was back in those cells, trapped and helpless, with no way out. The room she was in now felt eerily similar, the restraints on her wrists a cruel echo of her past.
The memories of Natasha brought a new wave of pain. She had thought she could trust her, had believed in the bond they had shared. But now, it felt like all of that had been a lie. Natasha's betrayal was a knife to her heart, twisting with every recollection of their time together.
Y/N remembered the times Natasha had held her, comforting her during moments of weakness. She had felt safe in Natasha's arms, believing that she had found someone who truly cared about her. But now, that sense of safety was shattered, replaced by a void of distrust and heartbreak.
She tried to reconcile the Natasha she had come to love with the woman who had betrayed her. It was impossible. The two images clashed in her mind, creating a whirlwind of confusion and pain. She had fallen in love with Natasha, believing in the goodness she saw in her, but now she couldn't tell what had been real and what had been a façade.
The tears she had been holding back finally began to fall. The memories, the pain, the betrayal— it was all too much. She felt like she was drowning, unable to breathe, unable to escape the torment of her past and the heartbreak of the present.
Y/N's mind was a battleground, the memories of HYDRA and her time with Natasha colliding in a cacophony of emotions. She felt the weight of her past pressing down on her, the sense of hopelessness creeping back in. The fight to survive had taken everything she had, and now it felt like she had nothing left to give.
As she sat there, restrained and helpless, Y/N's thoughts drifted to the future. She didn't know what lay ahead, whether she would ever be able to trust again, whether she could find a way to heal from the betrayal. But one thing was certain— she would never forget what she had been through, and she would never forgive Natasha for what she had done.
The pain of betrayal was a wound that would take a long time to heal, if it ever did. But Y/N knew she had to keep fighting, to keep pushing forward, even if it felt impossible. She had survived HYDRA, she had endured unimaginable pain, and she would find a way to survive this too.
The memories of her time in HYDRA, the torment, the helplessness— they were a part of her, but they didn't define her. She was stronger than that, stronger than the pain and the betrayal. And as she sat there, tears streaming down her face, Y/N made a silent vow to herself. She would find a way to move past this, to find her strength again, and to never let anyone break her the way HYDRA had tried to.
With that thought, Y/N closed her eyes, trying to find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos of her mind. The road ahead was uncertain, and the pain was still raw, but she was determined to keep fighting. For herself, for her future, and for the chance to prove that she was more than the sum of her past traumas.
Her closed eyes instantly shot opened when the door of the room opened, and Natasha walked in, clad in her black widow suit. Her expression was a mix of concern and determination. "Y/N, how are you feeling?" she asked, her voice soft.
What do you think? She wanted to spat but instead, Y/N sat in silence, her gaze fixed on the floor. She couldn't bring herself to look at Natasha. The betrayal cut too deep, and the words she wanted to say were lodged in her throat.
Natasha took a step closer, her eyes pleading. "Please, Y/N, talk to me."
After a long, tense silence, Y/N finally looked up, her eyes filled with pain and anger. "Why?" she asked, her voice trembling. "How could you do this, Natasha? After everything we've been through, everything you made me believe? Was any of it true?"
Natasha's face crumpled with guilt and sorrow. "I… I didn't want it to happen like this. I never wanted to hurt you."
"Then why?" Y/N demanded, her voice rising. "Why did you lie to me? Why did you pretend to care?"
Natasha struggled to find the right words, but they seemed to elude her. "It was my mission. But that doesn't mean what we had wasn't real. It was real, it was real to me!"
Y/N scoffed, bitterness lacing her voice. "Real? You were sent by someone who wanted me dead! Now tell me, Natasha, did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?"
Natasha's eyes widened, and she shook her head vehemently. "No, Y/N. I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted to protect you."
"Protect me?" Y/N's voice was filled with incredulity. "By lying to me? By using me?"
Natasha took a deep breath, her own eyes filling with tears. "I did what I had to do. But my feelings for you were real. They still are."
Y/N's voice was a whisper now, raw with emotion. "I would have died for your sins, Natasha."
The words hung in the air, heavy and damning. Natasha was stunned, her mind racing to process the depth of Y/N's pain.
Y/N continued, her voice breaking. "I loved you, Natasha. Every day, I fell deeper in love with you. And now… now I find out it was all just a goddamn mission to you."
"No," Natasha said quickly, her own heart breaking. "It wasn't just a mission. You mean so much more to me than that."
"But it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden, was it?" Y/N's voice was filled with hurt and sarcasm. "Once the truth was out, it lost its appeal, didn't it?"
Natasha shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "No, Y/N. Please, believe me. I… I love you too."
Y/N looked away, the pain too much to bear. "I don't know what to believe anymore. How can I trust you after this? You were the one person I thought I could rely on."
Natasha took a step closer, reaching out to touch Y/N's hand, but Y/N pulled away, the betrayal still too fresh. "I'm sorry, Y/N," Natasha whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm so, so sorry."
The room was filled with the sound of their silent tears, the weight of their shared pain too heavy to bear. And in that moment, both of them knew that their lives would never be the same again.
Y/N's heart ached with the weight of her emotions, "I want you to leave, Natasha."
"Y/N, please…"
"I SAID LEAVE!"
Natasha left the room, her heart heavy with guilt and sorrow. She wanted to stay, to explain herself further, but Y/N's shout had left no room for argument. As she stepped into the corridor, the weight of her actions pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe. She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside her.
The mission had seemed straightforward at first: locate the escaped HYDRA experiment and bring her in. It should have been simple. But Y/N had become so much more than a mission. She had broken through Natasha's defenses, seen her vulnerabilities, and made her feel things she hadn't thought possible. Y/N had become her person, the one exception in her life of secrecy and deception.
Natasha walked through the sterile halls of the Avengers' facility, each step feeling heavier than the last. She made her way to an empty room, seeking solitude to process everything. She couldn't shake the image of Y/N's face, the pain and betrayal in her eyes. The girl she loved, the one who had seen her at her weakest, was now lost to her.
"Natasha," a voice called softly. She turned to see Steve Rogers standing at the door. His expression was filled with concern.
"Steve, I—" Natasha began, but her voice faltered.
Steve stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "I know this isn't easy for you."
Natasha shook her head, tears threatening to spill. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was just a mission, but she became so much more."
Steve nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Sometimes, the lines blur. You can't help who you care about."
Natasha sank into a chair, burying her face in her hands. "She hates me now. I don't blame her. I lied to her, used her. How can she ever forgive me?"
Steve placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Give her time. She needs to process everything. And you need to be honest with her, even if it's painful."
Natasha looked up, her eyes filled with anguish. "But what if it's too late? What if I've lost her forever?"
Steve's expression softened. "You haven't lost her. Not yet. But you need to fight for her, Natasha. Show her that your feelings are real, that she's more than a mission to you." squeezing her shoulder softly, he added, "Who you are is not what you did."
Natasha nodded, though uncertainty still clouded her mind. She knew Steve was right, but the path ahead seemed so daunting. She had to find a way to bridge the gap she had created, to make Y/N understand that her love was genuine.
The days that followed were torturous. Natasha threw herself into training and missions, trying to distract herself from the ache in her heart. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't escape the thoughts of Y/N. Each night, she lay awake, replaying their conversations, the laughter they had shared, and the tender moments that had made her feel alive.
Natasha sat alone in her quarters, staring at the ceiling, trying to wrap her mind around everything that had happened. The sterile, cold walls seemed to close in on her, echoing her isolation and guilt. She had replayed her confrontation with Y/N countless times in her mind, each time feeling the knife of betrayal twist deeper. The mission had been clear-cut, simple even: locate and capture. But then she had met Y/N, and everything had changed.
She closed her eyes, trying to remember the first time she had seen Y/N. It had been a rainy night in a rundown part of the city. Y/N had been fighting off some low-level thugs, her powers crackling around her in a wild display of raw energy. Natasha had been struck by her ferocity, her determination, and the deep sadness that seemed to emanate from her. She had been assigned to neutralize Y/N, but instead, she found herself captivated by her.
Natasha's heart ached as she remembered their first real conversation. It had been awkward, filled with mistrust and guarded words. But over time, they had grown closer. Y/N had slowly let her guard down, allowing Natasha glimpses into her world, her pain, and her struggles. They had trained together, laughed together, and shared stories that had created a bond Natasha had never expected.
But now, all of that was shattered.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Weeks passed and Natasha still feel the weight of her poor decisions pressing down on her like a heavy, unyielding burden. The guilt gnawed at her constantly, making it hard to focus on anything else. She had tried to compartmentalize, to push the feelings aside, but they refused to be ignored.
Because now, her person— Y/N— was filled with anger and betrayal, emotions that Natasha herself had caused. Every time she saw Y/N's face, the pain was still evident, a constant reminder of the trust she had shattered. Natasha had made a series of poor decisions, each one leading them to this moment of intense suffering.
In the quiet moments, when she was alone with her thoughts, Natasha's mind would wander to a life that seemed like a distant dream— a normal life with Y/N. She imagined lazy mornings in bed, laughing over shared breakfasts, evenings spent watching the sunset, and a future filled with love and happiness. But those dreams felt like they were slipping further and further out of reach.
She often found herself in a spiral of doubt and regret. Was what she did worth it? Was there any way to redeem herself in Y/N's eyes? The questions were relentless, and the answers were elusive. Y/N had become her everything, the one person who had seen the real Natasha and still loved her. And now, that love seemed impossible to salvage.
Natasha's thoughts often turned dark, filled with self-loathing and despair. It was a losing battle in her mind. On one hand, she was a hero, an Avenger dedicated to protecting the world. On the other hand, Y/N saw her as a villain, a betrayer who had shattered their trust. The dichotomy was tearing her apart, and she didn't know how to reconcile the two.
Everywhere Natasha turned, she was haunted by the decisions that led her to this point. She recalled the moment she first saw Y/N's file, the cold detachment she felt as she read about the mission's objectives. Y/N was just another target then, another task to be completed. But then the mission parameters blurred, and Natasha found herself drawn to Y/N in ways she hadn't anticipated.
She was not even supposed to tell and share stories, let alone her past life when she was still under Red Room.
But Y/N's strength, resilience, and vulnerability captivated Natasha, breaking through her professional detachment. She remembered the first time she saw Y/N laugh— a genuine, carefree laugh that lit up her entire face. Natasha had felt something stir within her, something she hadn't felt in her entire life: hope. Hope that there was more to life than missions and deception. Hope that she could find redemption through love.
But now, that hope felt like a cruel joke. Natasha was left to grapple with the reality of her actions. She had deceived Y/N, played with her emotions, and shattered her trust. The look of betrayal on Y/N's face was seared into Natasha's memory, a constant reminder of her failure. It haunted her dreams, turning them into nightmares where Y/N's eyes bore into her with unspoken accusations.
Natasha tried to lose herself in her work, but it was no use. Every mission, every fight, felt hollow without Y/N by her side. She replayed their last conversation over and over in her mind, dissecting every word, every gesture, searching for a way she could have handled things differently. If only she had been honest from the beginning. If only she had found a way to protect Y/N without betraying her trust.
The guilt was relentless, gnawing at her insides. Natasha found herself questioning her very identity. Who was she if she could betray the one person who meant the most to her? Could she still call herself a hero? The lines between right and wrong had become so blurred, and Natasha felt like she was losing herself in the murkiness.
She sought solace in her training, pushing her body to its limits in an attempt to silence her mind. But no amount of physical exertion could quiet the storm of emotions raging within her. Each punch, each kick, was a futile attempt to fight against the guilt and regret that consumed her.
In her quieter moments, Natasha allowed herself to imagine a different reality, one where she and Y/N were living a peaceful life together. She envisioned a small, cozy home, filled with warmth and laughter. She saw herself waking up next to Y/N, their fingers intertwined, the morning light casting a gentle glow on their faces. She imagined sharing quiet moments, stolen kisses, and whispered promises. But as beautiful as these fantasies were, they were also a painful reminder of what she had lost.
Natasha's mind was a battlefield, torn between the desire to make things right and the fear that it was too late. She replayed every interaction with Y/N, every smile, every touch, trying to decipher where she went wrong. She questioned her own worthiness, wondering if she deserved forgiveness, if she deserved Y/N's love.
Her nights were the hardest. Alone in her room, Natasha would lie awake, her mind racing with thoughts of Y/N. She would reach out to the empty space beside her, imagining that Y/N was there, her presence a comforting balm to Natasha's troubled soul. But the emptiness only served to deepen her sense of loss and regret.
Natasha's heart ached with a longing she couldn't quell. She wanted to reach out to Y/N, to beg for her forgiveness, to prove that her love was real. But she was paralyzed by fear— fear of rejection, fear of causing more pain, fear of facing the truth of her actions. The vulnerability that Y/N had awakened within her was both a gift and a curse, leaving Natasha exposed and raw.
In her moments of despair, Natasha would recall Steve's words: "Who you are is not what you did." But it was hard to believe those words when the evidence of her betrayal was so clear. She had hurt Y/N. The guilt was suffocating, a constant reminder of her failure.
Natasha's mind would drift back to their time together, to the small, intimate moments that had defined their relationship. She remembered the way Y/N's eyes would light up when she talked about her dreams, the softness in her voice when she whispered Natasha's name. She remembered the warmth of Y/N's touch, the comfort of her embrace, the way she made Natasha feel like she was worth something, like she was more than just a weapon.
But now, all of that felt like a distant memory, a beautiful dream that had turned into a nightmare. Natasha was left to grapple with the reality of her actions, with the knowledge that she had destroyed the one good thing in her life. The weight of her choices was crushing, leaving her feeling hollow and lost.
In her darkest moments, Natasha would wonder if it was too late to make things right. She questioned whether Y/N could ever forgive her, whether there was any hope of salvaging their relationship. But despite the overwhelming doubt, there was a small, stubborn part of Natasha that refused to give up. She clung to the hope that, somehow, she could find a way to prove her love, to show Y/N that she was more than her mistakes.
Natasha knew that the road ahead would be long and difficult. She would have to face her own demons, confront the parts of herself she had kept hidden for so long. She would have to earn Y/N's trust, step by painful step, proving that her love was real and unwavering. It was a daunting task, but Natasha was determined to try.
As she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, Natasha made a silent vow to herself. She would do whatever it took to make things right with Y/N. She would fight for their love, for the future she had once dreamed of. It wouldn't be easy, and it might take a lifetime, but Natasha was willing to give it her all.
With that thought, Natasha finally felt a small sense of peace. The guilt and regret were still there, but they were tempered by a newfound determination. She would prove to Y/N that their love was worth fighting for, that she was worth fighting for. And maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.
As the first light of dawn began to filter through the window, Natasha sighed and stood up, pacing the small room. She knew she had to try to explain everything to Y/N, even if it seemed impossible. She couldn't just leave things as they were. She owed Y/N the truth, even if it hurt.
Taking a deep breath, Natasha left her quarters and walked towards Y/N's room. The halls were quiet, the soft hum of the facility's systems the only sound. As she approached the door, her heart pounded in her chest. She hesitated for a moment before knocking softly and entering.
Y/N was sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes red from crying. She looked up as Natasha entered, her expression guarded. The sight of Y/N in such pain made Natasha's heart ache even more.
"Y/N," Natasha began, her voice trembling. "I know you don't want to see me right now, but I need to explain."
Y/N's gaze was cold. "Explain what? How you lied to me? How I was just a mission to you?"
Natasha shook her head, tears welling up. "No, Y/N. You were never just a mission. Not to me. Let me tell you everything, from the beginning."
Y/N crossed her arms, clearly skeptical but willing to listen. "Go on then."
Natasha took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "When I first found out about you, I was assigned to the mission. It was supposed to be simple— locate you and bring you in. But from the moment I saw you, I knew it wasn't going to be that straightforward. You were different. You were fighting off those thugs with such determination, and I saw something in you that I couldn't ignore."
Y/N's eyes softened slightly, but she remained silent, letting Natasha continue.
"I watched you for a while, trying to understand you," Natasha said, her voice filled with regret. "I saw the pain you were in, the loneliness. I couldn't just complete the mission and hand you over to people who would hurt you. So I made a decision. I approached you, and I tried to get to know you. And the more I got to know you, the more I realized how special you were."
Y/N's eyes filled with tears, but she still didn't speak.
Natasha took a step closer, her voice pleading. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this. My feelings for you are real, Y/N. They always have been. I love you." Natasha continued to confess her feelings, her voice raw with emotion. "Y/N, I know I hurt you. I know what I did was unforgivable. But please, believe me."
Y/N finally spoke, her voice trembling with emotion. "How can I believe you, Natasha? After all the things you did?" Y/N's eyes blazing with anger. "Is this the goal, Natasha? Breaking me? Rusting me?"
"No," Natasha answered quickly, shaking her head. "No, that's not it at all. Let me explain everything." Natasha felt a lump in her throat. "I know I've given you every reason not to trust me, but I'm begging you to believe me. I couldn't just let you die, especially not at HYDRA's hands. They're still after you."
Y/N's voice was filled with bitterness. "I just died inside. And it's because of you, Natasha. You killed me, you sleeper cell spy."
Natasha flinched at the harsh words, feeling the weight of her guilt. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted any of this to happen. If I could go back, I would change everything. I'd never do this to you and… and I'm not what I did. Believe me."
Y/N's laugh was cold and sarcastic. "You are what you did, Natasha."
The words echoed in Natasha's mind, clashing with Steve's voice reminding her that who she is isn't defined by what she did. But Y/N's words felt truer in this moment, cutting deeper than any physical wound.
"I'll forget you, Natasha, someday," Y/N said, her voice chillingly calm. "But I'll never forgive."
Natasha's heart shattered at those words. She had known that repairing their relationship would be difficult, but hearing Y/N's definitive statement felt like a death sentence to her hopes.
Y/N continued, her eyes cold and unforgiving. "You're the smallest woman who ever lived."
Natasha stood there, speechless, the weight of Y/N's words pressing down on her like a physical burden. She wanted to fight back, to prove her love and remorse, but the pain in Y/N's eyes told her that it's a bit too late.
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three days in the making!! ( became four since i added a few things today, lol ) how was it? was it worth it? i think so. i love tsmwel soooo much!! been playing it over and over and over again. i mean, isn't it obvious? ( 9.361k words… ) let me know what you think and enjoy reading!
if i said best ttpd song, you say what??
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