#Natasha Hastings | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thewidowsledger · 5 months ago

Text

Looking Out For Two

Pairings: Avenger Natasha Romanoff x Agent Female Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Tags | Warnings: +18, Natasha has a penis, pregnant reader, brief smut, pregnancy, daddy kink, Wanda being a Natasha hater, dark Natasha if you squint, violence, organ trafficking, angst, bad writing

Author's Note: This is not proofread y'all so I might edit, please excuse my silly and stupid mistakes; English is not my first language. A friend requested this to me, they said they requested it to a writer here but unfortunately they went on hiatus, so here I am bringing their ideas to life, xo.

MINI SERIES: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

⧗

You stared at Natasha in disbelief, hurt and anger warring inside of you as you watched her settle in your shared bed.

The words echoed in your mind.

I am with a child Nat…your child.

And suddenly all of the emotions and doubts and fears that you had been pushing aside came rushing back to the surface.

⧗

You paced nervously in your shared bathroom. You had taken not one, but three pregnancy tests, just to be sure. Each one showed the same result: 2 lines=positive. The news had your heart racing. You knew Natasha was coming back today, and the timing of these tests was undeniably nerve-wracking.

"Fuck this…this can't be."

Just as you were contemplating how to break the news, JARVIS’s calm, artificial voice filled the room through the speakers. "Miss Y/L/N, the team has returned. Your partner Agent Romanoff is back."

Panic set in as you realized Natasha could walk in at any moment. You scrambled to hide the pregnancy tests, fumbling with them in your haste. Shoving them into a drawer, you quickly composed yourself, though your heart continued to race.

Before you could even make it through the door Natasha stepped into your shared room, her expression hard and distant. She barely glanced at you as she set her bags down. "Hey," she said curtly.

Your eyes suddenly lost its light when you were welcomed by her cold demeanor. This wasn't the welcome you were used to. Typically, when Natasha came home, she'd greet you with a rose or a small souvenir, accompanied by her warm kisses and affectionate hugs. Sometimes, she would throw you over her shoulder and you ended up tied up in your shared bed. On occasions when you were the one returning from a mission, she would shower you with kisses and hugs the moment you stepped through the door. Sometimes she would even pick you up directly from the mission site, bringing you back to a room meticulously prepared with rose petals on the bed and a luxurious bathtub filled with rose petals and wine. Those gestures always made you feel cherished and loved.

But now, it is different.

"I uhm, I made you cookies baby and your favorite hot chocolate. I know how much you missed them, you know the last time we called…" You scrambled through your words as you noticed Natasha eye you like a predator watching its prey, she slowly dropped her bags and walked towards you.

You were just wearing one of her shirts that is oversized to you and a pink underwear. She reached your face, it was oh-so-gentle, her thumb brushing your cheek, as if you're going to break. She hummed as you talked and scrambled your words. You were falling for her once again as you stared at her eyes…you watched as her eyes slowly dilated. Your eyes grew bigger with panic, but when you were about to pull out from her embrace that's when her other hand gripped your ass and immediately pulled you with a bruising kiss. You moaned, gripping her biceps as her tongue fought its way to your mouth. You felt her hips and her hardened length bucked towards your throbbing core.

"I’ll take a shower." She said as she pulled away, leaving you on edge. She moved past you, heading straight to the bathroom without another word or touch.

You were left alone, gasping for air with an aching heart and a confused mind not to mention the needy ache on your throbbing core. But you immediately brushed your feelings off, you gave her a benefit of the doubt. Missions can be tough at times, you think to yourself so you just went to your shared closet and grabbed some fresh clothes for her to use, you also put some pajamas for yourself.

Couple of minutes after, you went about preparing the bed, expecting Natasha to rest after her shower or maybe you can still talk, you think to yourself once again.

What if she didn't want this?

You screw your eyes shut as you fluff the pillows and tidying up the sheets on your shared bed.

Maybe I’ll just move out and not tell her about it. I’ll just raise our child alone and…I—

You were standing by the bed, lost in your thoughts, when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind. You let out a small gasp, startled by the unexpected embrace.

Natasha smirked against your neck as she felt you jump a little in surprise. She enjoyed the way your body reacted to her touch, and the way you were always on edge whenever she was around.

"I don't remember you wearing this pajamas before I got in the shower, hm?" She whispered seductively, she almost growled in your ear. "You seem distracted, baby."

"Daddy can fix that."

"B-but, wait, Natty, love? Can we talk?"

Natasha was on a mission to make you forget about whatever it was that was on your mind, to make you forget about anything else but her. Her kisses and touches were relentless as she continued to explore your body with her cold hands fresh from the shower, slender fingers digging into your waist before going under your shirt and slowly reaching for your nipples.

"We need to talk," you gasped out, trying to push her away. But it was like trying to move a boulder—she was really determined, like she always is.

"No talking," she whispered against your neck. "Just us."

"Nat, please…" You whined as she soothe her tongue that's gently lapping over yet another mark she just made on your skin.

"Please what, baby?" She smirked, when she felt you tried to pull away, she pressed herself firmly against your back.

"We need to tal—"

"Hm, but we're talking now, love. Aren't we?" Not letting you finish your words.

Natasha watched you as you pulled away from her grasp, her expression betraying no emotion as you pleaded with her to talk. She then chuckled low in her throat, clearly enjoying the way you were pushing her away. Her smirk grew wider as she sensed your frustration.

"Come now, love," she said, her voice dripping with false concern. "Is there really something so important that we need to talk about right this instant? I'm so tired after that mission, I'd rather just relax with you."

Frustration and anger bubbled inside of you, and you lost it.

"No Natasha! We need to talk now," you almost screamed, your voice filled with desperation. "This can't wait."

Natasha paused for a moment, her eyes flashing with irritation as you screamed at her saying her full name. She was not used to it, and for being disobeyed, let alone shouted at.

"And why can't it wait, huh?" she asked, her voice cold and calm as she leaned back against the bed. "It's late and I'm tired. The mission was exhausting and I’ll just sleep now."

You stared at Natasha in disbelief, hurt and anger warring inside of you as you watched her settle in your shared bed.

The words echoed in your mind.

I am with a child Nat…your child.

And suddenly all of the emotions and doubts and fears that you had been pushing aside came rushing back to the surface.

⧗

As you opened your eyes, you immediately noticed the absence of Natasha beside you. Groggy and still half-asleep, you looked around the room, searching for any sign of her. But she was nowhere to be found. You sat up in bed, feeling a wave of nausea wash over you. You rushed to the bathroom and barely made it in time to throw up into the toilet. As you knelt there, feeling weak and dizzy, you realized that you hadn't felt nauseous like this since...since you were pregnant.

After a few minutes, you rinsed out your mouth and stood up, feeling the room spin around you. You braced yourself against the wall, taking deep breaths to steady yourself.

Suddenly, the voice of JARVIS broke through the silence. "Agent Y/L/N, I have been informed that the Avengers have been summoned for a mission today. Agent Romanoff is currently in the meeting room now together with the team."

As you sat there, trying to process the information that JARVIS had given you, the artificial intelligence noticed your distressed state. "Is everything alright, Agent Y/L/N? Do you need me to call Agent Romanoff?"

You quickly shook your head, trying to hide the panic that had surged through you at JARVIS's suggestion. "No, no, that's alright," you said quickly. "I'm fine, really. There's no need to call her. I’ll be there in a minute."

You silently cursed the presence of JARVIS in your room. "Stupid AI," you muttered to yourself. "Why does he have to be installed everywhere in the compound?"

You breathe, touching your tummy before you proceed to clean the bathroom, the sight of the toilet with your puke making your stomach churn, but you pushed through the nausea and cleaned it thoroughly anyway. Once you were done, you cleaned yourself and moved to the bedroom and quickly dressed yourself, putting on your mission gear. Your eyes fell upon the box of cookies that you had made for Natasha. They sat there, untouched, you felt your heart ache once again and a tear rushing down your cheek. You grabbed several of the cookies and stuffed some into your mouth.

As you walked at the compound Wanda saw you, she noticed the tears streaming down your face. "Hey, Y/N, are you okay?" she asked, her words carefully chosen.

"My cookies are good, right?" You asked between sobs.

Wanda stood there, stunned by your question and your emotional response, she carefully chose her words to avoid upsetting you further. "Of course they taste good, love," she replied. "Where's Nata—"

But before she could say anything more, you immediately shoved a handful of cookies into her mouth with your free hand, not wanting to hear the name she's about to mention. Wanda's eyes widened in surprise as she tried to speak, but her words were muffled by your sweet cookies.

As you cried and leaned against Wanda, she patiently let you rest on her shoulder. Even with her mouth still filled with your cookies, she gently reached up to pat your head, offering what comfort she could.

"Shh, it's okay," she tried to comfort you, her words slightly muffled by the food in her mouth.

As your tears began to subside, Wanda gently spoke up. "Hey, Y/N, I think they're waiting for us in the Quinjet now." You nodded and managed to compose yourself and brush off the last remaining crumbs of the cookies out of your suit.

The two of you started making your way towards the Quinjet when you saw Maria.

"Cookie?" You offered her.

Maria looked at you and glanced at Wanda that gave her a just take it or else she'll have a tantrum look. Maria looked skeptical at first, but she knew better than to refuse. Reluctantly, she accepted the last cookie from you. Your smile widened as she ate the last crumb of the cookie.

"What's wrong with her?" Maria asked Wanda as they both trailed behind you.

Wanda's reply came in a low hiss, her irritation palpable. "I don't know! She was crying. And I am going to kill your buddy!"

You turned to look at them but just as you turned around, your eyes narrowed as you picked up on the hint of irritation in the voice of Wanda. Their words were instantly replaced with fake smiles as they noticed your suspicious glare.

As the three of you reached the Quinjet you felt a bit more steady now that you had gotten your emotions under control.

You watch Maria and Wanda get past you before you speak silently aloud, addressing the unborn child in your stomach. "Please be good to mommy okay? We're going on a mission now," you said softly. "I promise you, this will be the last one. Afterwards, I'll retire."

The words were meant as a promise to both the child growing inside you and to yourself—this mission would be your last as an agent.

Before the three of you could come in. The atmosphere onboard the Quinjet was tense as JARVIS addressed the team, scanning the three of you. The AI's voice chimed in, breaking the silence.

"There appears to be a pregnant agent among the three of you."

Wanda, Maria, and yourself froze in your tracks, exchanging nervous glances with each other. The revelation had sent a wave of trepidation through all of you.

JARVIS continued speaking.

"Furthermore, it is suggested that they must not participate in this mission. It is imperative that they rest and refrain from engaging in any strenuous activities."

You felt the weight of JARVIS' words settle upon you, the realization that you were in fact the pregnant agent in question sinking in.

"Stupid AI." You muttered as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"That's not me, I just fucked Darcy last night." Maria held both of her hands in the air.

"What the hell? You didn't need to tell us that!" Yelena shouted in disgust.

"I told you they were doing it. Give me my 20 dollars, Sam." Tony celebrated and pointed a finger gun at the Falcon.

Sam went behind Steve and whispered, "Let me borrow 20 dollars."

"My money can wait, Cinderella!" Tony laughed as he patted Sam’s shoulder.

The moment Maria spoke up, causing the team to gag at her blunt revelation, your heart skipped a beat. Everyone's attention was suddenly drawn away from the earlier revelation of this stupid AI, and you breathed a small sigh of relief.

But as you glanced over at Natasha, you could still feel her eyes boring on you. Her gaze was intense, and you could sense her suspicion. The tension in the air was thick as the team attempted to process Maria's blunt statement.

Your heart raced in your chest as you looked at Wanda, silently pleading with her through your eyes. She picked up on your silent plea, understanding the truth that lay hidden beneath your words.

Emotional in the morning, check. Wanda began, as if ticking off a list in her mind. Cookie cravings, check.

This may not be a complete list but I know it's not me.

You watched her standing beside you, she was fidgeting but in her mind everything was just hitting the nail on the head. Then, with a moment of hesitation, Wanda closed her eyes and spoke three simple words.

"I am pregnant."

Your eyes widened in shock as Wanda spoke up. The team wasted no time in congratulating her, enveloping her in hugs and celebrations.

"You're pregnant huh?!" Yelena shrieked in excitement, she was the first to pull her in a tight hug.

"Yeah it's me!" Wanda winced slightly, feeling a pang of guilt for the lie she was covering up on your behalf.

"We have a little witch incoming, yeah?" Steve’s eyes sparkled with joy.

Tony couldn't help but chime in as well, a smirk on his face. "We didn't bet on this one, Wilson."

Sam chuckled in agreement. "Yeah, I know."

As Natasha approached Wanda to offer her congratulations, Wanda's usual soft demeanor vanished. Her anger and frustration with Natasha over the previous situation with you were evident even though she has no idea about it.

"Congratulations, Wanda." Natasha spoke gently, extending a hug.

But Wanda swiftly deflected her affection, stepping back to maintain a distance. "Save it, Natasha," she responded curtly.

Natasha, trying to shrug off Wanda's cold approach towards her, mentally blamed it on the emotions associated with pregnancy.

"Must be those pregnancy hormones," she murmured under her breath.

As the team continues to surround Wanda, she snuck a glance in your direction. You mouthed a silent "thank you" to her, acknowledging the sacrifice she had made. In turn, Wanda mouthed back a quiet, "Take care and the baby," her words carrying a deep undertone of understanding and worry.

Suddenly, Natasha walked towards you and asked, "Are you okay?" she gently touches your arm. But you ignored her question, choosing to remain silent. Your mind was elsewhere, torn between gratitude towards Wanda for what she did for you and a deep desire to keep your own pregnancy hidden from the team and even from the mother of your child.

Without responding to her, you gently shrugged her hand off your arm and moved past her, walking into the Quinjet. You avoided her gaze, not wanting to betray your emotions.

The Quinjet lifted off, leaving behind a scene of excitement and well wishes for the witch. You retreated into the corner, seeking comfort in the familiarity of your own presence.

As the aircraft ascended, you instinctively placed your hand on your stomach, gently caressing the growing life within.

The team received a mission assignment from Fury to infiltrate a hospital involved in illegal organ trafficking, targeting children. The focus was the children's wing, and the objective was to put an end to the operation. It was emphasized that no stone should be left unturned to ensure the safety of the children involved. The intel also suggested the involvement of Hydra's experimentation. While specific details about their latest projects remain undisclosed, their history in this regard is grim.

Maria approached you, her expression was serious as she sat down beside you. "Left wing, that's ours."

"And it's the center of the operation, correct?" You confirmed, a pit of anxiety knotting in your stomach.

She nodded. "That's right. The operation is taking place there. You ready for this?"

You subconsciously once again placed your hand on your stomach and took a good look at Natasha who was piloting the Quinjet.

"Yes," you murmured, though the nervous tremble in your voice gave you away.

⧗

"Guys."

Natasha, Bucky, and Bruce exchanged looks of concern as they heard Wanda's voice through their comms.

"Wanda?" they called in unison.

Bruce was the first to speak. "You shouldn't be on comms right now. You're supposed to be resting. I'll call Dr. Cho to check on you."

Wanda winced at the mention of Dr. Cho, once again reminded of the cover up she had to do…or the lie rather. She knew the truth, but she couldn't reveal it to the others, she's not in the right position to say it.

The three immediately noticed Wanda's distress and exchanged alarmed glances.

"What's wrong, Wanda?" Bruce asked.

"Where's Y/N?" Wanda hurriedly asked.

"She's out now on the mission with Maria." Bucky informed Wanda through comms.

"I knew this was going to happen. Fuck!" Wanda hissed.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Natasha's brow furrowed, barely glancing up from her mission report at the mention of your name.

"Bucky, get her back in." Wanda immediately demanded, ignoring the presence of Natasha through the comms.

Natasha’s confusion deepened, and her frustration grew as Wanda demanded someone else to get her girlfriend back to the Quinjet. "And why should he do that?"

"Just get her back in!" Wanda insisted, her voice rising slightly.

Natasha's frustration peaked, realizing Wanda was deliberately shutting her out. But she remained calm, not wanting to distress her, "Wanda, you must be tired. Right now you should be focusing on yourself and the baby. Y/N will be fine, don't worry. She's good at looking out for herself."

Wanda’s irritation boiled over, her patience wearing thin. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath as she whispered.

"She might have a hard time looking out for two."

"What? What do you mean, Wanda?" Bucky asked once more, trying to grasp the meaning behind Wanda’s words.

"Maria can handle herself just fine, Wanda. Y/N doesn't need to look out for her." Natasha responded dismissively, trying to reassure her once again that you don't need to look out for your partner.

But clearly, Natasha knows nothing.

"No, no, no, that's not what I meant, Romanoff! Your girlfriend might have a hard time looking out for herself and for the baby growing in her stomach! So right now, Romanoff I need you to get your girlfriend out on that mission before anything happens to her!" The anger of Wanda echoed through the earpiece of the three Avengers.

"I had to cover up for her earlier, I’m not the one who's pregnant, she was. She doesn't want anyone to know, even you, Natasha, ‘cause it seems like you don't have time to talk about it." Wanda gritted her teeth as she revealed the cover up she did for you.

Then suddenly an urgent call for backup was heard through the comms.

"Back up, we need back up!"

It was Maria, her voice sounding strained and her signal cutting in and out.

"Natasha! Y/N…I can't see Y/N, Y/N is taken!"

Natasha's blood ran cold at Maria's words. The word sent a shiver down her spine, and her heart thumped heavily against her chest. She clenched her fists, her fingernails digging into her palms.

"No," Natasha whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. Fear and anger welled up within her as she heard the words.

Without a moment's hesitation, they heard Tony respond, "I'm on my way, Maria. I'll get there as soon as I can. And you Romanoff, you have to get your girlfriend!"

Wanda hissed harshly to Natasha through the comms, "If anything happens to my bestfriend and my niece I will kill you myself, Natasha. I will fucking kill you myself."

Natasha's jaw clenched at Wanda's harsh words. She knew she was only expressing her fear and concern for you and the baby, but the threat still stung.

She gritted her teeth and muttered a retort.

"I will kill myself if I won’t be able to save them. So save it, Wanda."

⧗

The room was eerily quiet, a chill running down Natasha's spine as she scanned her surroundings. She cautiously stepped forward, her senses on high alert. Suddenly, a figure lunged from the shadows, but Natasha was quick to react. Before they could make a move, Natasha had kicked away their weapon and delivered a swift punch to their stomach.

Another figure appeared behind her, but Natasha swiftly dodged the attack and delivered a well-placed kick to their chest.

As she fought off the attackers, Natasha unsheathed her batons, the metal gleaming in the dim light. With a flick of her wrist, she extended them and began to whirl them around, blocking attacks and delivering precise strikes to vulnerable spots. Meanwhile, she kept her other hand free, ready to use her widow bites at a moment's notice.

Natasha's heart raced as she sprinted through the dimly lit corridors, her footsteps echoing against the cold concrete. Natasha's mind went on high alert the moment she entered the room and saw you lying unconscious on the bed and a doctor preparing some medical supplies beside you. Her heart skipped a beat as she took in the sight, her adrenaline pumping through her veins, making her nerves tingle.

The doctor spoke up, his voice breaking the tense silence in the room.

"You finally came," he said. "Your wife's been waiting for you.”

"Who are you?!" Natasha's voice held a dangerous edge, her eyes narrowing as she focused on the doctor, her gun pointing at him.

The doctor raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, a smug look on his face as he regarded Natasha's gun pointed in his direction.

"Now, now, Romanoff," he said, his tone dripping with mock concern. "You wouldn't want to cause any distress to Mrs. Romanoff here, would you? You might wanna put that gun down."

Natasha’s grip on her gun tightened momentarily before she reluctantly began to lower it. She didn’t want to risk endangering you further by provoking him.

The doctor smirked, clearly amused by her cautiousness. He knows damn well how much power he holds now that he has you captive.

"I'm Doctor Strange. And…I am your wife's doctor for today. She's your wife right? Girlfriend? Partner..? Whore? Whatever you want but I prefer that we call her your wife, okay Romanoff?"

Natasha’s heart plummeted as he pulled out a surgical knife, her fear instantly skyrocketing.

"Don't! Do not fucking touch her, I’ll make you regret it!" she snarled, but he seemed unbothered by her threat.

Strange smirked, the glint in his eyes making Natasha's skin crawl. He began to rip your suit open, exposing your stomach.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, her voice shaking with anger but also fear for you.

The doctor chuckled, his expression smug as he began to apply some ultrasound gel to your stomach, his eyes glued to your bare skin.

Strange's tone was mocking as he asked Natasha a question that cut straight to her heart.

"Did you know she was pregnant?" he asked, as if he were casually inquiring about the weather.

Natasha swallowed hard, she almost choke with her words, "I uh...I didn't..."

"You didn't know until now did you?" Strange chuckled, a sadistic smirk on his face not letting her finish, "Oh, that's a shame," he taunted.

"You are a bad mother."

Natasha flinched as the words hit her, and for a moment, she was speechless. The words stung, even more than any physical blow could have.

Her mind flashed back to the night before this mission. She remembered that you had tried to talk to her, begged her to have a conversation but she dismissed you.

Now she hated herself for that, the realization hit her with a sickening weight, and she silently berated herself for her ignorance. You shouldn't be here if she listened to you.

Strange hummed as he began to move the transducer around your stomach. He looked up at Natasha, a sly smile on his face.

"I wasn't always a doctor, you know," he said, his tone almost nostalgic. "In fact," he continued, his gaze returning to the monitor. "I started out working with Hydra when my sister died."

"You might have heard of them, right? For sure you intel already informed you that. Not exactly the most upstanding group of people." He murmured.

"Oh look at that! That's your baby Romanoff!"

Natasha's eyes flickered towards the ultrasound machine, her heart pounding as she saw a life, her offspring on your stomach. The sight of the tiny, flickering image of the baby inside you softened her expression momentarily.

Strange chuckled as he watched Natasha. He leaned casually against the counter, one hand resting on the ultrasound machine before he got back to examine your stomach once again.

"As I was saying," he continued, his tone casual. "I didn't want to remain a lowly foot soldier forever," he said, his eyes narrowing. "I wanted more power, more control. So I branched out on my own."

Strange pressed the transducer deeper into your stomach, causing you to whimper in pain.

"Don’t—"

The doctor immediately pointed his finger in the air, shushing her.

He then continued, his tone nonchalant, his gaze fixed on the monitor, watching the image of your stomach intently. "I started my own precious business and then…"

"Everything I'd worked for, years of hard work and sacrifice!" he spat out, the pressure of the transducer increased and he watched how it dug deeper to your stomach on the monitor. "And you, Avengers just waltz in like they own the place and ruin it all!"

Strange paused, he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to regain his composure. The pressure on your abdomen loosened slightly before he glanced at Natasha, his expression almost apologetic.

"Sorry," he said, his tone smoothing back to its usual calm. "I didn't mean to shout. It's bad for the baby, you know." He chuckled softly, his hand gently caressing your stomach.

Natasha's heart pounded in her chest as she watched Strange's expression shift from calm to enraged in an instant. His words and his behavior were unpredictable, and that made her more anxious. She maintained a facade of calm, her eyes never leaving you.

"Romanoff, your baby is healthy and developing just like it should. All the organs, muscles, limbs and bones are in place." He smiled, an evil one, his eyes flicking up to Natasha, wanting her to take a good look on the monitor.

Natasha's expression remained neutral, her eyes fixed on the ultrasound monitor as Strange pointed out the growing body of your baby.

"Isn't that nice?" he said, his tone clearly a mockery.

"Must be hard," with a sinister edge to his voice. "Knowing there's nothing you can do to protect what's most precious to you."

The doctor's laughter was cold and cruel. But what was truly horrifying was the way his gaze dropped to your abdomen, and he began to caress your stomach with a gesture that made Natasha's skin crawl.

"All you can do is watch and pray I don't do anything...unwanted," he repeated, his tone sickly sweet.

He then slowly grabbed the surgical knife and his eyes scanning Natasha's face for any reaction. A cunning smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he noticed her flinch.

"Oh, did that scare you?" he asked, his voice dripping with menace. "Why are you scared? You're not the one lying on this table?"

He chuckled darkly, waving the knife in front of her face.

Strange's fingers continued to play with the knife, slowly twirling it around in his hand. He seemed to take pleasure in seeing how it made Natasha uneasy. Her breath quickened and her heart pounded against her chest as she watched him.

She tried to keep her emotions in check, desperately wanting to remain calm, but the sight of the gleaming blade in his hand made her instinct scream in alarm.

Strange leaned back, the knife momentarily forgotten in his hand as he turned his attention to your still unconscious form. He moved closer to you, his fingers gently prying your eyelids open.

"Beautiful eyes," he commented, a hint of admiration in his voice. "These eyes could be a valuable asset to the right people."

Natasha's ears perked up at Strange's words, a lump forming in her throat as she realized his intentions.

"What the fuck did you say?"

"Oh, Romanoff. Your baby might hear you curse. You'll kiss your baby with that mouth?"

He moved away from examining your eyes, setting the knife down on the counter. He reached for a file that was among the various medical supplies and paperwork scattered around the room. He flipped through the pages, reading aloud to Natasha.

"Martin Joseph Novarich," he said, his eyes scanning the file. "He's just eight years old. Familiar with the name?”

Strange continued to read from the file, oblivious to Natasha's inner struggle.

"The boy has a rare genetic disorder that affects his eyesight," he said. "He needs a corneal transplant to restore his vision, and the process requires a perfect donor match. And his father, the president, is willing to do anything to save his only child.”

Strange smirked, his eyes scanning Natasha's face.

"Think about it," he said, his tone almost teasing. "Your wife's eyes could give the president's son a new lease on life. Or her liver could help someone else in desperate need."

Her anger flared at his words, her muscles tensing as she struggled to control her emotions when he started listing off your organs one by one, suggesting that it could be used for donation. The thought of your organs being harvested like some kind of donor bank was almost too much to bear, it made her skin crawl, it made her blood boil.

"And let's not forget," Strange added, a sly note to his voice, "that she might have more than just one healthy organ."

"She's an agent," he pointed out. "She probably leads a healthy lifestyle, so her organs are likely in great shape. And I think yours too, Romanoff.”

Strange suddenly put on a fake frown, pretending to be remorseful as he took a glance on your abdomen.

"Oh, my apologies," he said, his tone dripping with mockery. "I almost forgot about the poor, innocent child in your wife's stomach." He grabbed a cloth and wiped the gel out of your skin’s abdomen.

He then trailed the knife over your stomach, Natasha's breath hitched in her throat.

"Don't," she hissed, her eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare.”

The doctor continued to trail the surgical knife and then he finally nicked the skin on your abdomen, Natasha's face contorted with anger and horror.

"Oops…too late. Just a small one, don't worry." Strange chuckled darkly, his eyes locking with Natasha's. Her eyes trailing between the knife and on your stomach.

A loud booming sound rang outside the room, startling both Strange and Natasha. Seeing an opportunity, Natasha reached for the gun she had to put down earlier. She aimed it at Strange, who slowly raised his hands in surrender.

In a desperate move, Strange pushed your bed towards Natasha, trying to interfere with her aim and make her miss. However, Natasha was too quick and too skilled. She pulled your bed towards her and immediately placed your unconscious state behind her back making sure that your bed was within range.

She immediately turned when she heard a clinking sound. Natasha fired, the bullet hitting Strange in the shoulder.

"I missed." Natasha sighed as she placed the gun at your bed. "That was a very dumb move doctor."

Natasha's voice was icy as she spoke, her eyes locked on Strange's face.

"You know what, doctor?" Natasha set the gun down on your bed. Her hand moved to your cheek, gently caressing it before moving slowly and gently over your stomach, wiping away some of the blood that slowly dripped there.

Natasha walked over to where the doctor was cowering, a surgical knife in her hand. She knelt in front of him trailing the knife in the wounded shoulder.

"I am a great shot when I'm pissed."

She then held his shoulder ignoring his startled yelp of pain, she deftly used the knife to dig deeper into his shoulder, intent on retrieving the bullet lodged there. She extracted it from his flesh.

As she dug deeper, working to extract the bullet, Strange cried out in pain. But instead of feeling any remorse, Natasha felt a deep sense of satisfaction at seeing him suffer. She knew she had the upper hand now, and she was going to make him pay for what he had done to you.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" she muttered, her eyes fixed on his face. “I told you, I’ll make you regret...”

"Touching..."

"My..."

"Wife! "

With a final tug, Natasha finally got the bullet with a satisfied smirk briefly crossing her face. Natasha picked up the gun from your bed, loaded the bullet back in the chamber and spun it slowly with a flick of her wrist.

She turned her gaze back to Strange, who was still reeling from the pain. Her voice was low and dangerous as she spoke.

"And doctor," she said, the gun pointed straight at his head.

"I don't waste a bullet. Ever."

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader

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just-aake · 5 days ago

Text

Flustered Crushes

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: The Black Widow does not get flustered. So why is it that Natasha can’t seem to stop embarrassing herself in front of you?

Warnings: fluff

Words: 2795

At the edge of the bustling hangar bay, Natasha leans against the cold, metallic wall, her arms folded tightly, a faint frown etched across her brow as her sharp gaze observes the scene unfolding before her.

Near the base of the Quinjet’s ramp, you are engaged in animated conversation with Carol Danvers, who happened to arrive at the compound for a quick visit precisely when you returned from your mission.

You've been with the Avengers for a few months now, a former SHIELD agent seamlessly adjusting to the team dynamics.

Over time, you've connected with everyone—including her.

So, Natasha’s made an extra effort to help you feel welcome.

Clint often teases her about her behavior, insisting her attentiveness borders on something more personal, something like a…crush.

Natasha dismisses his comments each time with a roll of her eyes.

She’s just being nice.

After all, it's only natural to want a solid, dependable relationship with a new teammate, especially someone she'll be working closely with.

That’s the only reason why she came to greet you when you return from your mission.

At least, that’s what she tells herself as she stands there, alone, on the sidelines…not with you.

Natasha watches Carol say something that makes you laugh, causing her faint frown to deepen.

The flash of amusement in your eyes as Carol grins back makes Natasha roll her eyes and look away, unable to take the sight anymore as a pang of irritation tightens in her chest.

She tries to shake it off, but it doesn’t disappear.

After all, it’s not like she got here an hour before your scheduled return and waited to see you…just to end up watching as the blonde space beauty swoop in, effortlessly captivating your attention.

Deciding she’s had enough, Natasha pushes herself off the wall, preparing to leave.

However, her abrupt movement catches others around her off guard, and she ends up bumping into a passing cart loaded with tools and equipment.

A clattering sound echoes across the hangar as wrenches and bolts spill onto the floor.

Natasha curses softly under her breath, a mix of pain and embarrassment coloring her cheeks as she drops to gather the scattered items, apologizing hastily to the technician she collided with before quickly exiting the area.

In her haste, she doesn’t notice your gaze, the subtle smile tugging at your lips as you follow her with amused eyes, tracking her every flustered move across the hangar bay, even as she slips away without a backward glance.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“So, how’s it going with your crush?” Clint asks, a playful glint in his eyes as he watches Natasha.

Natasha shoots him a warning look that would strike fear into the most fearsome of villains.

Without a word, she grabs the coffee pot, filling his mug before pouring some for herself. She replaces the pot with a decisive click.

“There is no crush,” she states firmly, taking a sip as though punctuating her denial.

“Are you sure about that?” Clint asks skeptically before continuing, “Whenever Y/n’s around, it’s like you lose all of your charm and coolness.”

Natasha gives him an unimpressed glare.

“Really? Coolness? That’s the best you’ve got?”

Clint smirks, raising his mug in mock salute.

“Ask me again after I finish this coffee.”

She rolls her eyes, holding her mug close, feeling the warm comfort seep into her hands.

Just as she brings it to her lips, the doors swing open, and Tony strolls into the kitchen, spotting them with their drinks.

“Oh, coffee! Pour me a cup, Romanoff.”

“Pour your own,” Natasha mutters, savoring her next sip.

Tony feigns hurt, pressing a hand to his chest in mock shock.

“FRIDAY, remind me, who owns this building?”

“You do, sir,” the AI replies smoothly.

Tony gestures upward triumphantly at her before pointing towards the kitchen.

“So, technically, that machine is mine, the beans are mine, and...oh, right, that pot of coffee is also mine.”

Natasha rolls her eyes but eventually reaches for the pot, lifting it begrudgingly.

Tony holds out his mug with a victorious grin.

But just as she hovers the pot above his cup, she stops short.

“A ‘please’ once in a while wouldn’t hurt.”

Tony’s eyes widen, and he gasps in exaggerated disbelief as Natasha raises a brow in expectation.

Huffing, he mutters, “Can I have some coffee, please?”

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” Natasha quips with a smirk, preparing to pour him his coffee.

At that moment, the elevator dings, and the doors slide open to reveal you, fresh from your morning workout, dressed in your training gear.

You walk by the kitchen, spotting the other Avengers gathered around.

A delighted smile spreads across your face.

“Ooh, coffee! Can I have some, too?”

Natasha’s response is instant.

“Sure, I’ll make you a new pot.”

Her tone is warmer than usual, surprising even herself.

You beam at her, and Natasha feels herself pause, momentarily captivated by the sight. Distracted, she almost misses your following words.

“Thanks, Natasha! Let me change, and I’ll be right back.”

You slip through the doors, leaving Natasha blinking, still trying to regain her composure.

Tony watches with raised eyebrows.

“Wait a second—she didn’t even say ‘please,’ and you’re making her a whole new pot?”

Natasha’s eyes narrow as she holds the pot just out of reach of Tony’s mug.

“Do you want coffee or not?”

Tony grumbles before muttering a grudging “Yes, please.”

Satisfied, Natasha pours the coffee, keeping her focus steady.

“Natasha?” your voice catches her off guard, and she glances up to see you poking your head back into the room.

“Yes?” she replies a little too quickly, immediately focusing on you.

Both Clint and Tony fall silent, watching the two of you with curious eyes.

“Steve’s got a mission tomorrow,” you explain. “Would you mind if I train with you in the meantime?”

Natasha’s mind races for a moment before she steadies herself to answer.

“Uh—yeah, sure. Anytime you want.”

“Great!” you say enthusiastically before glancing worriedly at the counter. “I think that’s enough coffee.”

Natasha follows your gaze, eyes widening as she realizes Tony’s cup is overflowing, dark liquid pooling across the counter. She yanks the pot away with a muttered curse.

“Oh sh—!”

Tony steps back just in time, glaring down at his soaked countertop.

“Really, Romanoff? This is a new suit!”

Rolling her eyes, Natasha grabs paper towels, unruffled by his dramatics.

“Calm down, it barely even touched you.”

You let out a small laugh.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, shooting her a smile as you exit.

“Okay,” Natasha murmurs, her attention lingering on the door.

Clint chuckles as he takes another sip, eyeing her knowingly.

“You’re right, Nat. It’s not a crush,” he says, leaning back with a smirk. “It’s way worse.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha flashes one of her most charming smiles, leaning just slightly forward as the receptionist fumbles through her files, cheeks tinged with a rosy hue under Natasha’s intense gaze.

“Here you go!” the receptionist says, her voice soft as she hands over a key card. “I’m sorry again for the mix-up.”

Natasha’s fingers rest lightly over the receptionist’s hand as she accepts the card, her eyes warm and a playful smile tugging at her lips.

“No problem at all,” she replies, her tone smooth. “I don’t mind the delay with such lovely company.”

The receptionist blushes deeply, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and giving Natasha a flustered smile.

Natasha’s confident smirk grows as she watches her charms take effect.

Quick and efficient, she slips the USB drive from the computer, seamlessly hiding it under her palm as it rests over the key card. For a moment, she feels pleased with herself, effortlessly pulling off her usual charisma.

See, she thinks to herself, Clint has no idea what he’s talking about—she’s got plenty of charm.

“Nice job, Natasha,” your voice suddenly crackles in her earpiece, startling her.

Her hand slips in surprise, almost knocking over the items on the counter. She turns it into a casual adjustment, but not before the receptionist gives her a curious look.

Natasha quickly smiles, grabbing the key card and offering a polite nod before walking away toward a secluded corner of the lobby.

Pressing a finger to her comms, she mutters, “Y/n? Where’s Clint?”

“He had to step out for a minute,” you answer. “He asked me to take over. Is that okay?”

“No–I mean—yes, of course,” Natasha says, the words tumbling out a bit too quickly.

She straightens, running a hand through her hair as she tries to regain her composure. It’s not like she hadn’t expected you to assist with missions, but the thought of you watching her…

She tamps down the sudden flutter in her chest and forces herself to stay focused.

“Your next target is on the same floor as the key card you just picked up,” you continue, your voice warm and steady in her ear.

“Got it.”

“I’ll explain what you’re looking for.”

Natasha nods and begins striding toward the elevators, hoping her sudden focus will drown out the distraction of your voice in her head.

She tells herself it’s just a mission—professional, routine.

But now, with you guiding her through the next steps, each word falling from your lips makes it harder for her to maintain her usually calm, steady demeanor.

Her heart beats a little faster, and her cheeks feel a bit warmer than they should. She brushes off the thoughts and keeps walking, determined to stay cool and collected.

“Um…Natasha?”

She stops mid-step. “Hmm?”

“You’re…going the wrong way.”

Natasha freezes, blinking in surprise. She glances around, realizing she’s heading in the opposite direction from the elevators.

A wave of embarrassment sweeps over her as she lets out a quiet curse under her breath.

“Right,” Natasha says, turning with as much dignity as she can muster, her face heating as she finally heads in the correct direction.

Oh, she thinks to herself, she’s definitely going to kill Clint.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha steps out of her room, her leather jacket slung over one arm as she adjusts the zipper.

Your voice calls her name from down the hall, catching her off guard and making her slam the door shut in a startled motion. She spins to face you, only to be tugged back by an unexpected resistance.

Natasha looks down with a sigh, spotting her jacket sleeve caught in the door. Tugging at it proves ineffective, as it stays firmly wedged in place.

Hearing your footsteps approaching, Natasha hastily shoves the jacket behind her back, trying to appear composed. She leans casually against the door, hoping the awkward moment has gone unnoticed.

“Hey,” you greet with a warm smile as you reach her.

“Hey, Y/n,” Natasha replies, attempting a relaxed tone.

You eye her with a hint of curiosity. “Are you…okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine!” Natasha says quickly, forcing a casual smile. “Just, um, examining the door. Thought it could use a closer look.”

Your brows raise in amused surprise at her peculiar explanation, but you let it go.

“Well, once you’re done with that,” you say, playing along, “I made a reservation at that new place downtown. I was wondering if you’d like to join me?”

“Just the two of us?” The words slip out before Natasha can stop herself.

A flicker of excitement and amusement crosses your face as you nod.

“Yeah, just us,” you say softly.

Natasha’s heart gives a small flutter, but she maintains her composure.

“I’d love to,” she says, a smile slipping through despite her best efforts to stay calm.

“Great, it’s a date,” you say, grinning. “I’ll meet you in the garage.” With a playful smirk, you add, “After you finish your ‘inspection,’ of course.”

As you walk toward the elevator, Natasha watches you with a lingering smile.

Once you’re out of sight, she finally frees her jacket and heads to the garage a few minutes later, finding you waiting by her motorcycle.

You hop on behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist in a snug embrace.

The warmth of your presence makes her feel a fluttering sensation in her chest she can’t shake. Distracted, Natasha blindly reaches for her helmet and slips it on—only to be met with complete darkness.

With a soft sigh, Natasha’s head drops to her chest, realizing she put it on backward.

The chuckle that escapes your lips behind her is quickly muffled as you clear your throat, your hands reaching to help her.

You gently remove the helmet, your fingers brushing her cheek as you pull it off.

When Natasha glances back, she catches the playful look in your eyes as you bite back a grin.

Seeing this, Natasha lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Can we just pretend the last few minutes didn’t happen and start over? I swear, this doesn’t usually happen to me.”

You laugh, unable to hold back anymore.

“Oh, I know all about the smooth and charming Black Widow,” you say, your gaze warm and teasing. “But I think this side of you is pretty cute too.”

A faint blush spreads across her cheeks at your words, and Natasha takes the helmet, this time slipping it on correctly, with a soft smile she can’t quite hide anymore.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

It’s another one of Tony’s famous parties, where glittering lights reflect off polished floors and music pulses softly through the spacious hall.

In the middle of the dance floor, beneath the warm glow, Natasha sways with you, her hands resting gently on your waist as you move together to the rhythm of the soft melody.

You wrap your arms around her neck, leaning in and drawing her closer until your lips meet hers in a tender, lingering kiss.

Natasha smiles softly against your lips, and as you pull back, she rests her forehead gently against yours, eyes half-closed in a moment of quiet contentment.

Even as the music fades into the background, her hands remain firm on your waist, as if she has no intention of letting go.

“Why don’t we get something to drink?” you suggest, glancing over at the bar lined with sparkling glasses.

Natasha only pulls you closer, her fingers brushing lightly along the small of your back as she murmurs, “Or…we could stay right here and have another dance.”

Her voice is a soft suggestion, and she leans in slightly, her green eyes filled with warmth and alluring charm.

You raise an eyebrow, a knowing smile spreading across your lips.

“It’s cute how you’re trying to be smooth.”

Natasha’s expression shifts, feigning innocence.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says, though the faintest blush colors her cheeks.

With a playful glint in your eye, you tilt your head at her in challenge.

“How long has your bracelet been stuck to my dress?” you ask, giving her a teasing look.

Natasha glances away, the blush deepening as she realizes she’s been caught. She’s spent the past few moments subtly trying to free her wrist from your dress, but to no avail.

“In my defense,” she murmurs, attempting to deflect, “you distracted me with how beautiful you look tonight.”

You chuckle softly at her excuse, reaching up to pull her even closer. With a playful grin, you press a gentle kiss to her lips before leaning in to whisper against her ear.

“Think of the bright side—if you can’t get it loose, I’m sure you could just rip this dress off me.”

Natasha’s breath catches, and for a split second, she’s utterly still, her mind stalling at the suggestion.

You pull back just enough to watch her expression, and a delighted smile grows on your face as she stares at you, wide-eyed and flustered, clearly caught off guard.

It only takes her a moment to catch on, her eyes narrowing in realization as she shakes her head with a playful huff.

“You’re trying to embarrass me on purpose,” she accuses, a hint of a smile breaking through.

Unashamed, you bite back a laugh and nod.

“It’s nice to see the calm and collected Black Widow all flustered for once.”

Natasha’s lips curl into a smirk as she pulls you flush against her, her free hand sliding up your back, fingers grazing along your spine. She leans in, her lips just a breath away from yours, the warmth of her gaze intense.

“Only for you,” she murmurs, her voice a hushed promise before closing the distance, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that makes you forget the world around you, the room fading away as you melt into each other’s embrace.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: just a short fluff with a soft Natasha that I had finished some time ago. after everything that has happened yesterday and today, I wanted to give some kind of happier distraction, even if it may be only a temporary escape from everything. I’m still going between disbelief, sadness, and anger myself about the situation while also trying to be prepared to continue on. But hopefully, this was able to bring some of you some sort of break from everything else.

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

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marvelfilth · 7 months ago

Text

Family dinner

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova, platonic!Kate Bishop x f!reader

Warnings: a very poor attempt at humour

Summary: your best friend Kate needs backup after a mishap with Yelena's family

Masterlist

“I need you here yesterday!”

“What?” You whisper-shout, looking around the office to make sure no one noticed you ducking away to take a call from your best friend.

“Please, I'm desperate! I can't do this alone, they're like sharks and I just spilled blood!”

“Kate, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Yelena's family! They're scary as shit on a good day, but now we messed up real bad, and I think they're gonna decapitate me,” she whines.

“Okay, let's backtrack. What did you do?”

“...”

“Kate?”

There's shuffling on the other side, a deep sigh and then, “Melina found the handcuffs. With the fur. They were still attached to the bed.”

You snort, loud enough to attract annoyed looks from your coworkers. “Happens to the best of-”

“And the whip. It was on the bed too.”

You chortle, this time not caring about your surroundings, and swiftly move further down the hall. “She knows Yelena's a big girl, she can ha-”

“Natasha was there too!”

You stop in your tracks. Now that's interesting.

“She'll never let you forget it,” you say with all the confidence you have, even though you've never met the woman before. You know just enough from what Kate and Yelena told you to be sure of that.

“She's not letting me forget it now! She got all sneaky and secretive, whispering with Melina and looking at me, and now I'm on my way to a family dinner. A family dinner with my girlfriend's family, while said girlfriend got called away on some emergency mission,” she huffs angrily.

“There's no emergency mission, is there?”

“There better be!”

You chuckle, shaking your head. It's never a boring day with Kate Bishop.

“So,” she starts, aiming for a nonchalant tone, “I'm downstairs.”

“What?”

“Yep. Waiting for you at the front. Better hurry, parking is expensive as hell.”

“Kate.”

“I'm your bestie. And my girlfriend's mom found the handcuffs. I need you.”

You check the time, noting that the workday is nowhere near it's end. With a sigh, you head for the elevator, not even bothering to come back for your bag.

“I love you.”

“I haven't agreed to-”

“I know what that sigh means!”

You groan. “Yeah, yeah. You owe me.”

×××

Turns out, Yelena's family is even scarier then you imagined.

“So, Y/n,” Melina starts, looking at you like you're one of her lab rats, “Do you usually leave your… sexual… stuff after you're done?”

You turn red, choking on the wine. Kate sends you a look of pity.

Natasha smirks.

“I don't… I'm not sure- Um. Well, no.”

Melina hums, nodding to herself. “Good.”

She digs into her food, and you exhale in relief, feeling like the worst part is over.

“So where do you keep your stuff, Y/n?” Natasha asks over the rim of her glass, her eyes full of mischief.

Kate slides lower in her seat, boring holes into her fork.

Melina perks up, once again regarding you like one of her subjects. “I would also like to know. To pass the advice to my daughter and her girlfriend.”

You gulp.

“Well?” Natasha prompts.

You shudder from the intensity of the look she's giving you.

“Can we move on?” Kate whispers, looking around nervously.

“Yes, of course,” Melina nods, her eyes lighting up like she was waiting for a subject change.

Natasha sends Kate an amused smile, and you relax slightly. Now the worst part is over, you're sure.

“So, Y/n-”

Fuck.

“-are you single?”

You nod, shoving a forkful of some meat salad - which mostly consists of mayonnaise - to avoid talking.

“And you're gay, correct?” Melina asks, peering into your very soul.

You nod again, chewing fast.

“Why are you gay?”

You choke on a piece of potato, wheezing and reaching for a glass of water. Kate almost falls of her chair in haste to smack you on the back. Natasha just looks at her mother, unimpressed. “Really?”

“What?” Melina shrugs. “I'm a scientist, I'm conducting research.”

The redhead groans, rubbing her eyes. “Of course.”

You feel a little better now that Natasha is annoyed.

Melina still looks at you, expecting an answer.

You sigh, “Are you gay?”

She blinks, looking like an owl. Natasha chokes on a laugh, sending you a look of appreciation. Kate mutters something about bathroom and darts out of the room, hopefully to call Yelena and fix all this mess.

“Well,” Melina starts, deep in thought. “I suppose I've never given it much of a thought.”

You nod, feeling accomplished in swaying attention from yourself.

“Natasha.” The older woman turns abruptly. “You are gay.”

The redhead groans, sliding down in her seat. “Mother, please.”

“She's gay, and you're gay. You're both miserably single.”

“Huh?” You frown, affronted.

“Fuck my life,” Natasha mumbles into the table, her face pressed tight against it in a feeble effort of disappearing.

“Yelena's on her way!” Kate walks back into the room, triumphant.

“Finally,” you sigh, pointedly looking at the ceiling to avoid Melina's penetrative gaze. “Where's she, by the way?”

“Hiding, probably,” Natasha snorts, shaking her head. “Escaped the scene of crime and left her girlfriend to pick up the mess.” She raises her glass in Kate's general direction, “You're doing good so far, Bishop. Even brought reinforcement - good thinking.”

“Yes-yes,” Melina nods, her eyes darting between you three. “Yelena's a bit of a coward in that regard, but we have an important matter to discuss.”

Natasha glares at her mother. “No, we don-”

“Natasha can cook. Well, she can microwave.”

“What did I miss?” Kate frowns, settling back into her seat. “Actually, no. I don't want to know.”

“As I was saying,” Melina clears her throat, paying no mind to the murderous look Natasha sends her. You'd feel gleeful at that - Natasha's plan came back to bite her in the ass - if you weren't the other victim in this scenario. “Natasha can cook. She's excellent with knives. She's an excellent shot. She can dismantle a bomb in a matter of seconds. She's a… a catch.”

You smile at the miserable expression on Natasha's face, her cheeks dusted with pink.

“Oh…” Kate whispers, looking at you from the corner of her eye. “Well, actually, Y/n is-” she yelps loudly when your heel connects with her toes, and turns bright red at the shooting pain. “-a bitch. She's a bitch.”

The look in Melina's eyes turns gleeful. “That was excellent.”

Fucking hell, no matter what you do, your grave turns deeper and deeper.

Natasha snorts, chugging her wine like it's water. Melina's mouth opens again, and you say a stupid thing to save yourself from further embarrassment.

“Can we go back to Kate's handcuffs, please,” you mutter with a sigh.

The look of betrayal your friend sends you doesn't work the way she intended, because you don't feel guilty at all.

Melina's mouth snaps shut, her eyes widening. The sight alone tells you you said the wrong thing.

“Have you and Kate ever-”

“No!” you both shout, before the older woman can finish the question.

“Sounds defensive,” Natasha chuckles, reaching for the bottle of vodka.

“Wha- What?” You hiss, glaring at the spy.

“She's- Y/n’s not even my type! And I'm not her type either!” Kate splutters.

“Mhm,” Natasha hums, “that I can see.”

You gape, not sure if you're supposed to be offended. “What?”

Natasha smirks, planting her chin on her fist. “You need a firm hand. Your best friend is anything, but firm.”

Her eyes trail down your body, pupils darkening ever so slightly. Your cheeks burn and, suddenly, it's hard to breathe. You clear your throat and gulp down the last of your wine, carefully avoiding her gaze.

“O-okay. That's- okay, yep,” Kate mutters to herself. “Fuck my life.”

“Am I wrong?” Natasha husks, reaching across the table to play with the golden bracelet on your wrist.

Really, right in front of her mother?

The front door opens with a loud bang, and you jump up, relieved to see Yelena. The feeling doesn't last long, because a second later you notice the bleeding wound on her torso.

“So that was an actual mission,” you mumble, missing the way Natasha snorts in your haste to get Yelena to the couch.

Kate looks pale, but swiftly starts helping Yelena undress. Melina's ready with the first aid kid by the time they finally tear off the shirt.

“So?” Natasha whispers into your ear, sending goosebumps down your skin. “Am I wrong?”

Apparently, not even her bleeding sister can stop her.

“No,” you reply, “you're not wrong.”

She hums, satisfied. “I am miserably single, you know?"

You let out a loud laugh, not even bothering to quiet down when Yelena sends you a murderous look.

“I am miserably single, too.”

She smiles, nodding to herself.

“Want to fix that?” She asks after a bit, her eyes glinting in the soft evening light.

“They'll never shut up about it,” you groan, stepping closer to her.

“Yeah,” she hums, her grin stretching wider. “So?”

"A little help?" Yelena wheezes, glaring daggers at the two of you. "Hello? Your sister is dying."

“Yes,” you reply, not taking your eyes away from her green pools.

“Perfect,” she breathes, before pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I'll pick you up tomorrow at six.”

"Fucking unbelievable," Yelena mutters and yelps when Melina shushes her with a pinch and a hissed "don't ruin my hard work".

Kate just looks like she's about to faint.

You grin. "I can't wait."

#natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x you #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #family dinner

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multifandomme · 20 days ago

Text

Caught

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Summary: Natasha's absence makes you needier than usual.

Genre: Smut, (masturbation, fingering, praise, dom/sub undertones, getting caught, finger sucking, pretty vanilla), not suitable for minors.

Word Count: 1.1k.

This piece is for day 12 of kinktober under the 'masturbation' prompt. This is a repost of a fic I wrote on ao3 in 2022.

More works from me here. || Masterlist here. || Kinktober 2024 Masterlist here.

––--– ♡ –––--

Wandering hands slipped beneath the bedsheets, the soft sound of rustling fabric bleeding out into the thickened silence. Natasha’s absence always incited a newfound level of desperation, but you hadn’t quite anticipated the sheer desperation that had claimed you. Initially, you had attempted to thwart the throbbing between your legs with distractions, a movie playing to nobody in the background as you fidgeted upon the mattress. Every extended attempt was obstructed by the wriggling of your fingers, a conscious mind of their own dragging them lower to pacify your urges.

Ordinarily, a punishment would follow such an overt act of disobedience, Natasha intent on being the only person who could induce such a pleasure. But her lack of presence was felt tenfold, a flitting tingle fast transforming into an uncomfortable pressure in the pit of your stomach that begged to be alleviated.

Deft movements saw your underwear yanked down to your ankles until you flicked them to the floor below, momentarily forsaken as your mind whirred with anticipation. Your fingers sought your pussy with avidity, unable to resist the temptation as you dared to trace your arousal with a sole digit, a shameless moan tearing from your throat.

In the pitch darkness of the room, you felt at ease, the only semblance of light originating from the tiny ray that slivered in from the hallway outside. Soft breaths escaped your lips as you laved your clit with your arousal, your nipples hardening as the pleasure took a firm hold of you with no intent of letting go.

Liquid collected in abundance, only exacerbated by the touches that you had allowed yourself to undertake, proficient fingers probing at your entrance. The impulses were too strong to ever deny, a snaking finger daring to sneak inside of yourself as your back arched upwards from the bed, a warmth infiltrating the entirety of your body. Ablaze.

Electricity sparked with vigour, the motion of your finger inside of yourself finally providing some pacification as you basked in the feeling of being filled. You could only wish that Natasha was beside you, her soft coaxing words never too far away as she willed you into oblivion. The image of the redhead remained imprinted in your mind, her voice so familiar that you could almost hear it in its corporeal form as you reeled at the prospect.

“Natasha, oh- fuck,” you hissed, mindlessly.

“Naughty girl,” a voice erupted, startling you in place as you yanked your fingers away from your pussy in haste. “Someone really missed me, hm?”

Immediately, your eyes raised towards the door, a silhouette lurking over the threshold until the ghostly figure sauntered towards you. Even in the dimness, the smirk that Natasha donned could not be denied, practically entwined with her as she tugged the bedsheet away from you. Green orbs studied your indecency, her interest blatantly piqued as she honed in upon the glimmering arousal between your legs.

“So needy,” she remarked, her fingers inching in to trail over your throbbing flesh, a look of amusement claiming her features. “All you need to do is ask.”

Humiliation clouded you with intensity, a darkened blush materialising upon your cheeks and radiating heat. It was the first time that you had been caught in such a compromising position, rendered self-conscious beneath Natasha’s burning gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you uttered, quietly as you began to clamber to a sitting position, quickly occluded by a strong hand that forced you backwards. “I tried to stop, but I couldn’t, I-”

“Ssssshhh,” Natasha hushed, a slender digit pressed rigidly against your lips and painting it with the arousal that Natasha had been priorly inspecting. “How about I finish that for you, my love?”

An uncontrolled groan fell from your lips in the knowledge that Natasha planned to alleviate your neediness as you took her finger into your mouth. Expertly, you coated her digit with saliva, your tongue swirling around until it glistened in wetness.

“Hmmm,” Natasha mused, retracting her finger from your mouth with a sadistic simper. “You’re more desperate than I thought.”

You nodded avidly in agreement, hoping to instil Natasha with a sense of urgency, your heartbeat pulsating agonisingly between your legs.

“Please,” you begged, enlisting the help of your most convincing pleading expression, the one you knew sent Natasha’s self-control spiralling.

Natasha’s jaw flexed instantaneously as you bit back a victorious smile, knowing that your underhand tactics had succeeded. A response from her was unnecessary, her fingers manoeuvring to mirror the actions that you had exerted earlier, a ghosting touch landing upon your pussy. She hummed softly as she brushed against your arousal, two fingers sliding in without warning as she gnawed upon the full flesh of her lips.

“So fucking tight, baby,” she growled, lowly, a carnal sound bursting from your own mouth in response to her remark. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Your hips jogged in accordance with her soft motions, gentle as she basked in the way your walls hugged her fingers so snugly. Desperation surged without respite, intent on pressing Natasha for a faster pace as you bucked aimlessly into her hand.

“Please,” you breathed, whorishly, all traces of embarrassment forsaken as your mind became fixated upon your carnal urge to come undone. “Fuck me harder.”

Natasha acknowledged your plea with a hum, a cocky smile plastered upon her face as she increased the pace. Of course, the woman turned the tables, a brutal force emerging as your breath fought to catch up, Natasha merely chuckling towards your strife. Your body shuddered as the redhead’s fingers jammed into you, methodic whines ripping themselves from you as you stared into her sparkling orbs.

“That’s it, baby,” Natasha coaxed, her voice delicate and in contention with the aggression conveyed in her movements. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it, hm?”

Mindlessness denied any verbal response, your brain lacking coherence as you gazed up, dumbfounded by the pleasure that flooded you. Natasha peered downwards, a knowing simper glued to her lips as her eyes darkened with lust, wholly consumed by you.

“Cum for me, baby,” she demanded, domineeringly, her teeth bared in impatience. “Cum all over my fingers like a good girl.”

A calculated swipe across your clit had your body quaking below her, your pussy cinching Natasha’s digits with intent. You cried aloud, more so when she continued to slam into you, no heed paid towards the unbearable oversensitivity that you were faced with.

“Fuck, baby,” you panted, breathily, your hands outstretched in search of Natasha’s wrist in the hopes of stymying her motions. “Stop, I can’t take it.”

Natasha scoffed in amusement before prying her fingers out of you only to shove them into your gaping mouth. Instinctively, you suckled with zeal, your tongue flurrying as you recalled the familiar taste of yourself commencing its invasion.

“Next time,” Natasha spoke, her face merely inches from yours. “You wait for me. Do you understand?”

––--– ♡ –––--

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x you #marvel x you #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #black widow x you #black widow x reader

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scarlethexelove · 1 month ago

Text

All Hail The Queens

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕!𝕎𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕒ℕ𝕒𝕥 𝕩 ℍ𝕦𝕞𝕒𝕟!ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 𝟚𝟞𝟞𝟞

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕!𝕎𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕒ℕ𝕒𝕥 (𝕐𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕒 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘), 𝕄𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕡𝕦𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 (ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕠𝕖𝕤𝕟'𝕥 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨), 𝕊𝕞𝕦𝕥, 𝔹𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕘𝕖, 𝕊𝕙𝕚𝕓𝕒𝕣𝕚, 𝕊𝕦𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟, ℂ𝕠𝕔𝕜 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝔸 𝕓𝕚𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕖𝕩𝕙𝕚𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 (ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 ℂ𝕠𝕔𝕜 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕕𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒 𝕞𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘), 𝔼𝕟𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕡, ℂ𝕦𝕞 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕡, 𝕄𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕪!𝕎𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕒, 𝔻𝕒𝕕𝕕𝕪!ℕ𝕒𝕥, ℂ𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕡𝕚𝕖 (𝕀 𝕘𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕤), 𝔸 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕞, 𝔸𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖.

𝔸/ℕ: ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕖 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕗𝕗 𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕕𝕒𝕤𝕤 𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕. 𝕀 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕒𝕕𝕞𝕚𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕒𝕡 𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕤, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕔 𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪. 𝕀'𝕞 𝕖𝕩𝕔𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕠 𝕞𝕪 𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

The only sound that can be heard is your bare feet padding down the hall. The floor is unusually warm but that should be what you would expect while being in the underworld. You wander down the halls looking from room to room to find your Queens.

You had made a deal with the Queens Wanda and Natasha. If you were unable to fulfill your end of the contract you would be brought down to the underworld. Obviously you did fail at holding up your end. You thought it would be easy but what you didn’t know was that the Queens had other plans. They made it impossible for you to come out successful on the other side. When they saw you they just knew they had to have you in any way possible. Normally fair Queens bent their own rules in order to keep you but you didn’t need to know that part.

It was difficult at first to accept the women and your new life. But as time passed you began to crave any affection from the women. They would always be glad to give you anything that you wanted, well except for letting you go. The contract you signed bound you to them for eternity, you couldn’t leave even if you wanted to. You tried at first. But now your life seems amazing. You got everything. You have a life that you could never even dream of.

You finally spot someone in the halls. A lower level demon that serves Wanda and Natasha. “Hi um have you seen Wanda and Natasha?” You ask the girl.. woman. You aren’t quite sure what she is. She looks down, not daring to make eye contact with you. “The Queens are in the meeting room.” She mumbles before rushing away from you. No demon dares to call them anything other than the Queens. It is found to be the utmost disrespect. But now that you know where they are you make haste.

A large black door with intricate carving stands before you. The door is slightly cracked and you can hear the voices of Wanda and Natasha talking in there. Something about an important meeting with higher level demons. You're slightly leaning against the door but you accidentally put too much of your weight on it, which has it swinging open and you falling flat on your face. You let out a groan hearing as two sets of heels click towards you. The heels come into your view and you look up at the women who are now staring down at you. Natasha gives you a pointed look while Wanda’s is a bit more soft.

Nat crouches down in front of you. “What do you think you’re doing little one?” Her tone is questioning but not too harsh. “I um, I was looking for you both. M’sorry for intruding.” They both share a glance as Wanda crouches down and reaches both of her hands out for you to take. You do so and she helps you stand up. “What would you like sweet girl? We have a very busy meeting starting soon.” You look down out of embarrassment. “Mmm wanted you.” You mumble. Wanda hooks her finger under your chin and makes you look up at her. “What do you want from us?” You let out a whine. “None of that.” Nat tells you sternly.

“Sweet girl, tell me what you want.” You let out a sigh at Wanda’s words. “I wanted attention.” You mumble. “What was that?” Nat questions you. You know she heard you but she is always going to make you speak up. “I wanted attention and to spend time with you both.” Nat smirks at your words. “Now was that so hard.” You let a grumble of yes, but the women let it slide.

“You can sit in on our meeting under one condition.” Wanda tells you. “Yes, yes, yes I’ll do anything.” Wanda’s lips curl into a smirk. “You’re going to strap warm me sweet girl.” You swallow hard. “I-In front of ev-everyone?” You stutter. “Yes everyone. You want our attention, you have it.” You nod in understanding. Natasha holds out her hand towards you. “Take off your shorts and panties.” You shudder but do as you’re told. Slipping both of them down your legs, wetness already pulling at your core. You place your panties in Nat’s hand knowing exactly what she wanted. Your shorts are discarded somewhere within the room.

When you turn around Wanda is sitting comfortably in her large chair. Her dress pants already slid down far enough to reveal the scarlet strap attached to her hips. You clench around nothing as you stare at the thich strap. “If you don't want your cute little butt seen by everyone you’re going to want to sit down detka.” Nat pushes you towards Wanda making you stumble slightly but you catch yourself. When you’re close enough Wanda grabs your hips and turns you to face the table. You don’t have time to react as Wanda pulls you down onto her strap. Your walls stretch to accommodate her size. A whimper leaving your lips when you’re fully sheathed onto her cock. “You’re going to watch what Mommy and Daddy do.” Wanda whispers in your ear. You nod not really hearing her as your mind is only on the thought of how full you feel.

It doesn’t take long before the room starts to fill up. You feel every movement of Wanda’s hips as she shifts in her seat. You bit your lip desperate to keep your noises at bay. You're thankful that they can’t see you from the waist down. You squirm in her lap the longer you sit, Wanda’s nails dig into your hips. “Keep still, little one.” She whispers in your ear again. You let out a whimper but do your best to stop.

You can’t focus on the meeting as it progresses, your mind turning into a foggy haze. You want more comfort and to hide away from the eyes that keep looking towards you. Or are they looking at Wanda you really don’t know. You lean back a bit and with the shift it has a small moan slipping out. None of the demons dare to stop because they know what the Queens would do to them if they did.

“Mo-Mommy?” You whimper softly. “Yes sweet girl?” Wanda questions. “Wanna turn around.” Wanda smirks. “Go ahead and do it sweetheart. Mommy isn’t going to stop you.” You let out a soft whine. “But Mommy they will see.” Wanda kisses the side of your head. Your fuzzy mind relishing in the affection. “If you want it you have to do it yourself, Mommy isn’t going to stop her meeting just to tell everyone to look away.” You let out a sigh.

It takes you a few minutes before you get the courage to finally stand up. You notice a prominent wet spot of your juices covering Wanda’s lap. She doesn’t seem to mind as she opens her arms for you. You can feel their eyes burning into your back as you shift to sit back down on her lap, this time facing her. You so easily slide back down onto her strap and bury your head in her neck. Her arms wrap around you as you feel the rumbling of her chest as she begins to speak.

You nearly fall asleep as the time passes, you don’t even know that everyone is left until you feel Wanda nudging you. “Time to get up sweetheart. Mommy and Daddy have some more work to do.” You let out a whine and hold onto her tighter. “Y/n I said you need to get up.” You shake your head before mumbling out a no. Nat gives Wanda a pointed look. “You wanted our attention that badly? Fine. You can Have it.”

Before you even have time to react before your body is tied up and suspended above the large meeting table, all your clothes are gone. Your legs are bound to your hands that are now stretched behind your back. Soft ropes caress your body, wrapping you up tightly. The ropes that cover your chest, squeeze your breast just right accentuating them more. Nat’s eyes hyper focused on how beautiful you look tied up and hanging. You’re at the mercy of both women.

“Natty do you think our dumb little baby deserves to cum or do you think we should edge her?” Wanda asks. You feel a finger gliding across the soft skin of your thighs, running up to your ass before Wanda slaps her hand down causing you to cry out. You don’t even know when she made her way onto the table but you don’t dare to question it. She smoothes her hand over your now burning ass. “Hmm.” Nat hums contemplating what you actually deserve. “Though defiant, I want to see her cum until she’s a brainless whore.” Nat smiles as you shudder.

Wanda leans down and whispers in your ear. “Did you hear that dumb baby? Mommy and Daddy are going to make you cum so much that you won’t even be able to think.” You let out a whimper. Though you wanted attention this wasn’t exactly what you were thinking, but you aren’t mad about it either.

Nat gracefully steps up on the table and stands in front of you. Her fingers squeeze your chin making you look up at her; your neck in an uncomfortable position. “Such a pretty little slut for us.” You whine as her piercing green eyes stare down at you. She caresses your cheek and you nuzzle her hand. She smiles at you. “I can’t wait to ruin you.” The thought sends a wave of arousal through you.

Without a warning Wanda has thrust the whole length of her strap back inside your waiting hole. You moan loudly at the feeling of being full again. Wanda wastes no time as she pulls back plunging her strap back into your soaked hole. “Mm fuck!” She moans. “I forgot how good it feels to have your pussy wrapped around my cock.” The joys of being the Queens of the underworld with immense power. Wanda and Natasha know how to enchant their straps to feel everything like it was a piece of their own body.

Your moans grow louder as Wanda mercilessly pounds into you. Your mouth is hanging open. Natasha is still staring down at you. She smirks with an idea. Your pretty mouth is hanging wide open for her. You watch her as she slowly lets spit drip down from her lips as it falls into your awaiting tongue. “Swallow.” She commands and you do so. “Good girl.” She finally lets go of face and circles around to watch as Wanda fucks you.

Wanda grips onto the rope pulling you back onto her strap. Your body is being used to get her off. Her grunts and moans fill your ears. Your walls clenching around her the closer you grow to your orgasm and Wanda knows it. “Aww does my dumb little baby want to cum.” You moan and nod your head. “Say it. Tell Mommy how much a whore you are and how you want to cum all over her cock.” Nat’s voice cuts through. It takes you time as Wanda’s relentless thrust continues to fill you. Her hips stutter as she gets close to the edge. “Mmm.. Mmm pl-please Mommy wanna cum. Wan-Want Mommy to fill me. I-I’m Mo-Mommy’s dumb whore. Please! Please! Please!” It takes everything in you to get these words out. They spew out of you as you're so desperate, you don’t know how much longer you can hold it.

“Fuck good girl. Cum all over my cock and Mommy’s going to fill you up.” Wanda grunts. She stills releasing her load into you, painting your walls white with her cum. The feeling sends you over the edge. Your walls clamp down on her length as you cum hard. Your whole body trembles from the force of your orgasm. Wanda rolls her hips into yours prolonging both of your orgasms. When she finally pulls out you can feel as the mix of your cums trickle out of your abused hole. Wanda and Nat admire it, Wanda reaches out using her finger to push it all back in. You squirm in your restraints. Both women breathe out a fuck as they watch.

You feel a finger tracing your open thighs as Nat moves between your legs. “It’s daddy’s turn now.” She thrust forward and starts a brutal pace. “Ahhh f-fuck!” You moan out. Her grip on your hips is rough as her fingers dig into the flesh sure to leave some marks behind. Nat’s grunts mix with your moans. Your already sensitive and full cunt makes it easy for her to slide in and out. “Fuck you feel so good around Daddy.” You whine as you nod.

Nat continues her fast and rough pace. Tears roll down your cheek at the overwhelming pleasure. Through blurred vision you see Wanda come into view. She cups your cheek in her hand. “Such a good girl for us.” You nuzzle her hand. You can see how her strap glistens with your juices. You wonder why she might still have it on, but that thought is interrupted when Nat gives a particularly hard thrust right into that sweet spot deep inside of you. Your eyes roll back into your head as your body shakes. You’re not able to hold back when Nat hits that spot again. “Daddy!” You cry out as you cum hard on her cock.

“Fucking whore cumming all over Daddy’s cock. I’ve barely even fucked you yet.” Nat grunts as her pace doesn’t stop. She is getting close you can tell. You whine as you become sensitive from your last orgasm. “Da-Daddy.” You whine but she doesn’t stop. “Daddy’s going to use you detka, let me fill you up just like Mommy did.” You whimper but nod. The pleasure now laced with pain.

It doesn’t take much longer just a few more thrust for Nat to follow and fill your already leaking cunt with her cum. Your walls are sucking her in for more despite the pain. She presses her finger against your clit which sends you over the edge again. “A-Ahh!” You cry out. Wanda wipes the tears that cascade down your cheeks as a powerful orgasm shoots through you. Your cum spraying out of you covering Nat in your juices. Wanda’s hand on your face and her sweet whispers help ground you as your mind feels like it’s floating. “Shhh Mommy’s got you sweet girl.”

When Nat finally stops your body goes limp. She pulls out slowly trying not to hurt you but you hiss in pain. “Shh detka you did so good for Mommy and Daddy.” In a flash you’re in Nat’s arms and she is kissing your head. She carries you down the hall into the bedroom you share with them. You're nuzzled into her chest as you feel exhausted. You don’t miss how Wanda stops a servant and tells them they need to clean the meeting room table which has you blushing in embarrassment. Which only causes Nat to chuckle at your cuteness.

The women get you all cleaned up in a bath that they join you with. Once they are done they help you get dressed and into bed. Nearly the whole time Nat is carrying you around due to your super shaky legs. The important things they needed to get done long forgotten about as they crawl into bed on either side of you. They are the Queens after all and can cancel whatever they please. So they take the rest of the day taking care of you.

This is the best life you could have ever hoped for. One that will last an eternity with two very beautiful women bound until the end of time.

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imaginedanvrs · 10 months ago

Text

caught in a snare

masterlist

dark!wandanat x reader

word count: 4k

warnings: alcohol consumption, intoxication, mind reading, degrading, forced entry, mind control, bondage, non-con turned dub-con, oral (r giving), gun play, knife play, choking, threats of violence, inflicted violence, fingering (r receiving), strap on sex (r receiving), double penetration, anal

You were blissfully unaware of the forest green eyes that followed your every drunken move as you danced with your friends. If you were sober, maybe you would have caught on to the feeling of being watched by the redhead whose gaze was laid thick on you while you seemed oblivious to the world around you.

“Come on,” a brunette said to your observer as she returned to the bar. “This place is a dump and I'm not feeling it tonight,” she continued with disdain, her accent peaking through so briefly it would have been missed by anyone in the club listening in. “Nat,” she huffed when she noticed her girlfriend wasn't listening, too focused on the mass of bodies dancing in the barely lit room.

“Remember when you gave me shit for not getting you an anniversary present?” The redhead asked as she stared at the peak of skin between your jeans and shirt.

The brunette didn't answer, instead following Natasha’s gaze and swiftly finding the object of her attention. She hummed in acknowledgement, instantly becoming just as curious by you as they watched you blatantly ignore a stranger's advances so that you wouldn't miss a second of the song that was making the walls vibrate.

“The two in dresses are going to go to the toilets to fuck and the other one’s going to dance with the guy with the snake tattoo,” Natasha assessed.

“Well I'm sure she won't want to stay any longer by then,” Wanda mused as she took in your giddy smile.

As if on queue, one of your friends took the other by the hand with haste and dragged her through the club without a word to you. Meanwhile, your other friend began guiding her pursuer's hands to her hips, becoming quickly immersed in his touch. A few moments passed without you noticing your friends' engagements and Natasha tutted. Once it clicked, you looked like a deer caught in headlights.

You scanned the room as you stopped moving, wondering where best to situate yourself as you got your bearings and felt all the alcohol you had consumed that night hit you at once. You were clearly disorientated as you stumbled through the crowd.

“Reckless thing, who knows who would snatch her up if we weren't here,” Natasha chided.

“Come on, маленький, come to us,” Wanda encouraged. You couldn't hear them several metres away, nor did Wanda use her telepathic aid, yet it was the bar you found yourself clinging to a minute later.

“Water please,” you asked the bartender, your speech slightly slurred. The pair advanced.

“You alright, honey?” Wanda enquired with a concerned smile. It was exactly what you needed to see at that moment.

“Yeah,” you replied, entirely unconvincing as you smiled anxiously at the pair.

“You look ready to go home,” Wanda continued.

“My friends are here,” you informed quickly. The older woman was right, you did want to go, but you needed to wait for them.

“But they're not here,” Natasha noted. You bit your lip as you searched the crowd for them, missing the glass of water placed in front of you. It vanished a second later.

“Let us help get you home, sweetie, it's not safe to be out on your own,” Wanda said. It was hard to deny her and perhaps if the pair weren't wearing their widow veils and you knew they were Avengers, you wouldn't have objected.

“I'm not on my own,” you insisted even though your friends were nowhere to be found. “Thank you but-” Wanda didn't have the patience to spend anymore time convincing you. It wasn't conversation the pair wanted from you.

“We're taking you home,” she stated, eyes flashing red so briefly that you passed it off as the strobe lights. Just like that, everything seemed to fall into place and a stress free, though still intoxicated, beam appeared on your lips

“Thank you,” you said sincerely.

“You're something else,” Natasha muttered to her partner as she got up to lead the way. Wanda placed a gentle yet assertive hand on your waist and guided you to follow Natasha while she followed behind, her hand becoming firmer the more bodies you had to get through.

The fresh air that soon hit you did nothing to sober you up and only made you more disorientated, so much so that you were oblivious to the fact you three had left through a previously locked fire exit. You leaned back on Wanda when the alleyway you found yourself in started to spin.

“Woah,” you muttered. The two women shared a look as they helped you into their car. You didn't know you were in a flashy stingray, but when Natasha turned the car on you noticed the expensive interior and began to panic that you would throw up in it.

“Are you getting her address or shall I?” The brunette besides you asked. You frowned.

“It's twenty-”

“Shh,” Wanda assured, suddenly guiding your head into her lap. You were about to protest until you were struck with a sudden sense of peace, oblivious to the red whispered that danced around your head. You gave a contented sigh and simultaneously felt your drunken haze being lifted.

“I don't know your names,” you spoke out without alarm.

“I'm Wanda and that's Nat,” Wanda said sweetly. You really liked her.

“Like the Avengers?” You asked in awe and almost missed Nat's chuckle. “That's cool,” you muttered. The pair glanced at each other in the mirror with knowing smirks. “I'm y/n.”

“Pretty name,” Wanda commented as she tucked the hair behind your ear. “Pretty face,” she added. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks at the attention and squirmed under her gaze. Wanda returned her firm hand to your hip and you stilled.

Pretty anniversary present, Natasha input.

Belated anniversary present, Wanda corrected.

Tell me she's not worth it.

Depends how well she takes the red one, Wanda mused. She felt Natasha's excitement at the concept but kept quiet to not distract from the Friday night streets.

Once they pulled up by your apartment, Wanda prompted for you to sit up and you thankfully did so without a wave of nausea hitting you. You weren't expecting the pair to follow you inside but simply put it down to two women helping another out, even if you were considerably less drunk than when they found you.

“Lifts broken and I'm on the third floor. You don't have to follow me up,” you informed the pair as you almost tripped on a step. Wanda gave you a look that told you they weren't going so you led the way, unaware of the eyes that flickered to your ass.

It was only once you were turning the keys in the lock and thanking the pair that your sense of caution returned. You, somehow, weren't drunk anymore and yet these women you didn't know were still lingering outside of your apartment.

“Really, I'd hate to keep you from continuing your night,” you said as you stood in the open doorway that you wanted closed.

“It's barely begun,” Wanda mumbled as she brought her hand to your temple. You made to step away from her touch but your entire body was suddenly trapped in a state of paralysis. “Go to your room and strip,” she whispered, the tenderness she had earlier possessed now gone. Another difference was when your body complied with the order, your mind screamed at you not to. You were overtaken with fear as you made your way through the small apartment and heard the door close as the pair wandered in behind you.

“Oh, malysh, you should really take better care of yourself,” Wanda commented in what you now knew to be a condescending tone. You felt your anger brew as you realised she was going through your belongings while you undressed for her.

“We'll do that for you,” Natasha suddenly spoke right behind you. She undid your bra and grazed her lips over your shoulder, smirking at the goosebumps that arose. “Be a good toy for her and maybe I'll play nice,” she whispered and you could do nothing to push her away.

“Oh, Nat, you're scaring the poor thing,” Wanda chuckled as they watched you obediently take your underwear off. The moment they were discarded, you were given a heavy shove that made you lean over the side of your bed while your knees hit the floor with a painful thud. You whimpered at the pain it ignited and heard a pitiful coo from one of the women as your chin was lifted. Your eyes widened at what you took in.

The two Avengers stood before you, rid of their clothes and masks and instead holding weapons. Wanda’s eyes were glowing red as she stared at you while her magic flowed freely from her fingers. The whisps flickered momentarily as you felt an intense pressure keep you down before it was listed for you to roam freely. Yet you wouldn’t dare, not when you knew what she could do along with the sinister handgun held at the redhead’s side.

“So you do have some smarts about you,” Wanda said, confirming the rumours that had circulated in the media months ago that she could read minds.

“”Here’s the deal, приятная вещь, you can behave and do exactly what we say,” the brunette explained as she sat herself at the head of your bed while Natasha grabbed at the back of your neck and hoisted you up to the space between Wanda’s spread legs. “Or we can make you,” she said just as the unforgiving steel of Natasha’s gun pressed into your bare back. “Either way…” she snaked her hand around to the hair at the back of your head and forced you to gaze down at her wet cunt. You wondered at what point in that twisted scene she had become so aroused, and why there was a growing ache between your own legs at the sight.

You weren’t blind to the fact that god clearly hadn’t spared them any favours in looks and that you, like many, had been crushing on the female Avengers for some time, but the situation they had put you in wasn’t right, so why did Wanda look so goddamn tempting?

It was wrong, it was immoral, it was altogether fucked up, but with a sharp tug to your hair, your mouth was on the brunette. The second you tasted her, you didn’t need the threat of repercussions to keep you in place. Your tongue delved between her pussy lips and the moan you heard in response sealed your place in their arrangement and your own fate.

“Fuck, you always have a good eye for them,” Wanda gasped.

“Anything for you, моя любовь,” Natasha winked back. “I know she’s your present, but I hope you don’t mind if I just…” You heard the redhead trail off but ignored the distant alarm bells in your mind to instead give all your attention to flicking your tongue across Wanda in an effort to savour and explore her.

You were pulled from your lustful trance when you felt a cold blade press against your hip. Your eyes snapped to Wanda in a silent plea only to see her features brighten with excitement.

“Just don’t go too deep this time,” Wanda chuckled as she watched the scene unfold with anticipation and pulled you in close enough that you could no longer catch her dark eyes.

At the first cut, you inevitably jumped and scrambled to get away from the glistening blade but you were held in place by one strong hand to your back. Kept still against the already stained bedsheets, you whimpered and cried pitifully as Natasha’s skilled hands littered cuts across you, leaving scarlet streaks in place.

“Don’t stop,” Natasha warned with a deeper strike. “I’m barely touching you,” she huffed disapprovingly, pausing to let you recover and continue. You did so tentatively, waiting for the next sting to be inflicted but several minutes passed with the redhead merely tracing your skin with the back of her knife and you soon became fixated on Wanda again.

The cuts stung, but so did your scalp every time the brunette tugged and eventually those sensations entwined in the turmoil and were pushed to the background as Wanda’s pulsing clit became centre stage. The muscles of her thighs clamped around your head as her breathy moans and curses filled the room.

“Such a good fucking mouth she’s got on her,” the brunette spoke and though it wasn’t directed at you, you flushed with pride.

Wanda came with an ecstatic cry and you swore that the taste of her cum was worth every cut that had littered across you. You missed Natasha’s approving hum at the sight, too caught up in making sure you didn’t miss a drop of her girlfriend. You swirled your tongue everywhere you could reach until Wanda was pushing you away. You whined.

“Greedy thing,” Wanda tutted with amusement, gripping your chin.

“I can’t blame her,” Natasha muttered, suddenly leaning over your body to your raised chin where, instead of kissing you, she licked the wetness that had gathered just below your lips.

“Let me watch you, Nat,” Wanda said as she watched you shift uncomfortably. “Give me a show.” You frowned, not understanding what the younger Avenger meant but apparently Natasha did. She wrapped her hand around the front of your throat and pulled you back with her until your calves were by your sides and your back was flat against Natasha’s front.

“So fragile,” the redhead commented as her hand previously on your neck travelled down gradually. She nipped along your shoulder and neck as she explored your stomach and squeezed your tits. Your breath hitched and you tried to move your neck away from Natasha’s markings but she easily overpowered you.

“If you keep squirming like that you might make my finger slip,” Natasha tutted as she tapped her gun against your stomach, her finger ready on the trigger.

“Please,” you whimpered as the redhead trailed her gun across you, settling it under your chin. Your throat briefly skimmed it when you swallowed your nerves.

“Please what, malysh?” Wanda asked. You looked at her with a plea that got stuck in your mouth the moment you took in how she was touching herself. “Go on,” she encouraged as she rubbed her swollen clit.

“She wants to hear you beg,” Natasha whispered to you, her free hand settling between your legs where she found your cunt to be as wet as her partner’s. “Do it,” Natasha ordered with a firm press of her weapon, adamant on seeing her present perform as she was expected to.

“Please don’t kill me,” you rushed out. Both women chuckled, seemingly not taking your request seriously in the slightest.

“That’s not what you really want to beg for,” Wanda said, teasing her entrance with two fingers. Your own pussy throbbed as Natasha’s digits ghosted over your neglected clit. “Beg her to fuck you,” she said, eyes dangerously dark.

“I…I don’t- ah!” You exclaimed as Natasha pressed hard on your clit and rubbed tight circles. “Fuck,” you cursed as you fought against your desires, inevitably loosing when you heard the redhead cock her gun. “Please fuck me,” you whimpered.

“I didn’t catch that,” Wanda smirked.

“Please fuck me!” You begged as Natasha’s rough fingers were stripped away.

“Why?” She mused as she dragged her wet nails down your stomach.

“Because-” you hissed. “Because I need it, please!” You cried out, unable to distinguish if it was a plea for your life or for your pleasure.

“There it is,” Natasha smirked to her partner as she pushed three fingers in without warning. You were wet enough to take them, but the ache of the stretch was still very much present. “Fuck, what a tight slut,” the redhead chuckled as she thrust her fingers into your depths with persistence. You whined at the sting as Natasha scissored her digits against your soft walls, thumbing at your clit as you squirmed.

“You’re driving the pretty whore crazy, Natty,” Wanda moaned as she fingered herself steadily at the sight. “Does that feel good, detka?”

“So good!” You moaned without hesitation, resting your head back on Natasha’s shoulder. She tossed the gun to the side and picked up her knife as she thrust her fingers wildly, bringing the shining blade up to your neck. You could hardly register it. You were so intoxicated with the feeling of the woman behind you filling you up, but the hot sting across your neck was prominent.

Your hands pinned between your bodies struggled to free themselves and grab at the knife, no matter how futile, but Natasha’s body didn't budge and your hands remained trapped. Luckily, the redhead didn’t linger too long on your neck and planted small cuts back down your torso. Though at that time, they bothered you far less.

“She looks so good like that,” Wanda groaned when you winced amongst the pleasure. “More,” she demanded and suddenly the cuts were deeper. A sob was dragged from your throat and Natasha merely fingered you harder in response.

“I can feel you gripping my fingers,” Natasha husked. “Don’t you dare cum before her,” she warned as she placed her knife against your throat again. You whined desperately in protest, unsure if you were going to be able to hold off much longer, especially when the redhead deliberately pressed against the spot that made your world spin.

“I can’t…I need- please!” You exclaimed as you struggled, giving Wanda the most pleading look you could manage.

“Poor thing,” Wanda mused as she fucked herself knuckle deep, letting you glimpse how soaked she was everytime she pulled them out. “You want me to cum?” She asked with a pout.

“Please,” you sobbed.

“Please,” Natasha mocked, curling her fingers harder.

Wanda came again with a low moan, shuddering against your headboard as she thrust her digits steadily through her orgasm. You thought that you yourself were seconds away from your own relief but the sadistic redhead withdrew her fingers and forced you to continue to watch the pleasure you were deprived of. You almost protested when you saw Wanda’s blissed smile but wisely restricted it to a needy whine.

“What’s the matter, love? You wanted to cum too?” Wanda asked, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Yeah,” you said, voice hoarse.

“You think you can manage that?” Wanda questioned as her fingertips produced a red glow until a blood red dildo appeared between the Sokovian’s legs securely. Similarly, you felt something obnoxious prod into your back from Natasha. Your eyes widened as you took in the large toy, recognising that you had never taken anything nearly that big before. Most likely hearing your thoughts, Wanda stroked the toy several times, as though giving you a preview of how it was going to stretch.

“Don’t worry, it’ll help that you’re fucking soaked,” Natasha chuckled. A red glow appeared again though that time Wanda wrapped her magic around your body as she lay on her back and draped you over her with only your ass in the air for Natasha to grab.

“Wait,” you stammered when the toy brushed past your clit and teased your hole. Feeling the wide head spread your lips apart, you looked to Wanda to plead for more preparation but you didn’t get the chance because the redhead was forcing you down.

The stretch was unforgiving in its pressure and burn, forcing your soft walls apart with every inch it took. It filled you up in its entirety as Wanda guided your open mouth to her nipples where your moans became muffled and your eyes fluttered closed dutifully.

“Almost in, you just need your slutty holes filled by us, don’t you?” Wanda asked as she stroked your hair, a stark contrast to her words and the actions of her girlfriend who was forcing her inside you. “You just have to lay pretty and take it,” she said as the rest of the toy was shoved into your cunt.

“There you go,” Natasha hummed.

“Hurts,” you wheezed before your mouth was forced back around the Sokovian’s nipples.

“But it feels so good too, doesn’t it?” Wanda cooed as she lifted you off of the strap on only to slam you back down as she began to thrust. In your position, she could only pull out half way but it meant that the stretch lingered for longer while the pleasure emerged.

Once you were all consumed in the bliss of Wanda fucking your throbbing pussy, you jumped as Natasha spit on your ass and let it dribble down until it reached your tightest hole. You whined when she grazed her thumb over your ass, letting it hover in the anticipation of what you knew she was about to do and didn’t quite want to stop.

Natasha pushed her thumb past your ring just as Wanda filled you up with her fake cock and you let her nipple go with a gasp, clawing at the bedsheets around you to help adjust to the intrusion. “Fuck!” You groaned as the redhead toyed with your ass. She flexed and pumped her thumb inside you several times before replacing it with two fingers that had you spinning.

“So fucking tight,” Natasha grunted. “Feel it, Wand.” You didn’t understand what that meant and you missed the red hues covering Wanda’s iris as she peaked into her partner’s mind to experience what she felt, cursing at the ghost sensations around her fingers.

“Ruin her for me, Natty,” Wanda encouraged with twisted adoration and began fucking your cunt with a refreshed vigour you weren’t prepared for. In that same split second, Natasha pulled her fingers out and pushed her strap against your ass, gripping your hips harshly as her cock stretched you open.

“Too much,” you protested but the redhead merely pushed your face into the bed and used it as better means to fuck you with. Suddenly, you were more full than you ever could have imagined as both your cunt and your ass were stuffed with the older women’s cocks while you lay weak against them.

Natasha spit on her dildo as she dragged the toy out of you, stroking it several times before pushing it back in entirely. Tears soaked your bedsheets at what you could’ve sworn felt like being split open to accompany the redhead’s toy down to the base with her hips flush against you.

The moment they began thrusting together, you crumbled, unable to handle the force they used to fuck you or the fact that it felt so fucking good. Your moans were incoherent against the bed but no one seemed to care when the wet sounds from your cunt spoke loud enough for you.

“Such a good fucktoy,” Natasha groaned as she snapped her hips against you. “Happy anniversary, moya lyubov,” she grinned, pushing your head down further as she leant over you to embrace her girlfriend in a heated kiss you hardly registered. Their pace didn’t falter as they made out over you, continuing to pump themselves into your holes harder.

You couldn’t even move between the pair. You were trapped between their overpowering frames as they thrust as deep as they could each time and rubbed every nerve enough to make your body weaker by the second. You were consumed by them, all together entangled in the mess of twisted pleasure you only became more lost in until you reached the point of no return. You couldn’t communicate this to the pair but luckily one of them was already in your head.

“Cum, sweet thing,” Wanda coaxed. “Show us how much of a desperate slut you really are.” With that, you tripped and stumbled over the edge in a disorientated blur, falling blissfully through the air until you were slumped right back in that bed with the two Avengers who showed no signs of stopping.

“I can’t,” you tried to tell them, yet you did just moments later.

“We’re going to have so much fun with you,” Wanda whispered against your ear as she slowed her pace for you to be able to process her words. “We’re just getting started,” she told you when an unrelenting pressure started around your neck once more.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #dark!marvel #marvel #natasha x reader #dark!fic #dark!natasha x reader #natasha romanoff smut #wandanat smut #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wandanat x reader #dark!wandanat #dark!wanda x reader

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writerslittlelibrary · 9 months ago

Text

Wasn't she sixteen...?

masterlist

summary: when you are on a mission with your uncle Steve, you accidentally become part of a large, secret Hydra experiment, and suddenly, you return to the compound as a toddler…

pairing: Winterwidow x adopted daughter teen/toddler reader

warnings: none I think

genre: fluff

words: 3333

a/n: I remember reading something with the reader turning into a toddler a long time ago, and the idea always stuck with me. I figured it would be really cute to do it with an adopted reader, because it means that Natasha and Bucky have never taken care of a toddler

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

A simple mission. That is what Fury said. A simple data collection. In and out.

“Simple,” Steve scoffed as her carried a sleeping 2 year old in his arms. As it turns out, the mission was not as simple as Fury had initially stated. The Hydra base was in fact, not empty, and you, were in fact, not ready.

Fury had assured Natasha and Bucky you would be fine. You had been with the Avengers since you were 11. You had been fighting your entire life before that, and now you were with the Avengers and all you wanted was to follow in the footsteps of your adoptive parents.

Natasha and Bucky couldn’t be more proud, yet they also couldn’t be more worried.

You had never been on a mission before. Natasha and Bucky deemed them to dangerous, and you were only 16. They didn’t want you on missions until you were at least a legal adult.

You were upset of course when they told you, but it didn’t take you long before you understood. Missions were dangerous, and despite your upbringing, you were simply not ready yet.

However, when Fury came to Natasha and Bucky with a file, which contained an easy mission, they decided you were allowed to go.

It would be a quick in and out mission. There wouldn’t be any danger and your uncle Steve would be with you. Everything would be fine, except it wasn’t.

The mission appeared to be more complicated than Fury had originally thought, and the Hydra base seemed to be anything but abandoned. The scouts Fury had sent out prior to the mission had been deceived. It was a trap, for you.

You had Steve had gone inside the base, finding the control room and copying the data.

However, when you were copying the data Steve heard strange noises coming from the hallway. He told you to stay put and finish the data transfer while he went to check.

You did as he said, continuing to transfer all the data from the computer.

However, once the screen displayed 100 percent, all electricity in the room fell away. The door fell shut, and a red light was all that lit up the room.

You pulled the usb out of the computer in a haste, trying to see if you could get the door open. You were unsuccessful, and despite your training, you were starting to panic. You could hear grunts and blows landing not far from your location and so you figured Steve was fighting off multiple Hydra agents.

After you unsuccessfully tried to open the door, you took a step back, taking a deep breath and emptying your mind. You tried to remember what you father told you.

“Don’t dwell on situations gone wrong. Accept the unexpected. Don’t stand around whining. Try to find another way.”

You could hear your father’s voice in your head, repeating the things he had taught you. Don’t dwell on the situation, you repeated in your head as you turned around, scanning the room to try and find something else that could help you.

It didn’t take long before you spotted the end of a vent in the ceiling, and after pushing the large computer from the desk, you moved it over to the wall.

You climbed to stand on top of the desk as you inspected the vent, figuring you could fit through if you managed to get it open.

The metal was screwed into the wall rather tightly, and the vent wouldn’t budge as you tried your best to pull it open. While focusing on the vent, you failed to notice Steve trying to talk to you through the door.

Once you heard him yell your name, you turned around, jumping off the desk and making your way to the door.

“It’s a trap! They’re gonna do something to you!” you heard Steve yell as he tried to get the door open. He too failed to open the door, despite his super soldier serum.

You ran back to the desk, climbing on it once more and trying to open the vent with much more force than before. This was supposed to be an easy mission. You wanted to make your parents proud. You’ll be damned if you get trapped back with Hydra because of it.

However, after you tried your absolute best to get the vent open, you still failed, and the red lights in the room started to flicker as an alarm could be heard.

Smoke started to fill the room and you tried to hold your breath for as long as you could.

It didn’t take long before you had to breath again, and as soon as you did you felt the smoke work its was inside, infecting your brain and your senses. You lost your balance and fell off the desk, unable to break your fall as the smoke fogged up your brain, confusion taking over.

You tried to stand. To get to the door. To get to uncle Steve, but it was worthless.

You laid on the floor until you lost consciousness.

After the smoke had taken effect on you, the alarm stopped. The smoke disappeared from the room and the red light returned to normal. The door sprung open and Steve rushed inside.

However, what he found was not exactly what he was expecting.

There you were, sitting on the ground with a pile of suit around you. You were no longer sixteen, you were a toddler. You looked to be around two, and because only your body had shrunken, the suit you were once wearing was way to big, and so it piled up around you.

Once you saw your uncle Steve your recognised him immediately, even in this from, and you giggled and smiled as you reached your little arms up.

Steve picked you up quickly, rushing back to the Quinjet and discarding of your suit, wrapping you in a warm blanket instead. You had a few cuts and bruises on your little body but they didn’t seem to bother you in the slightest as you giggled and laughed while playing with Steve’s beard.

He sighed as set the coordinates for the Quinjet back to the Avengers tower, contemplating on how the hell he was going to explain this to Natasha and Bucky.

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

Once Bucky and Natasha heard that the Quinjet was landing, they rushed to meet you, wanting to hold you in their arms and assure themselves you were safe.

However, when Steve walked off the Quinjet, a confused and guilty look on his face while carrying a little child, they could only think the worse. Natasha and Bucky rushed over to Steve, asking what had happened to their child. They needed to know you were safe.

Steve chuckled dryly as he held your tiny form up, and the moment you saw Natasha and Bucky you started smiling, reaching for Natasha, wanting your mama to hold you.

Natasha took you from Steve confused, before she took a good look at the toddlers face and realised that it was indeed, you.

“Y/n?!” Natasha exclaimed confused.

“Mommy!” you giggled happily as you buried your face into her shoulder, exhausted from the journey.

“Wasn’t she sixteen when we sent her with you…?” Bucky asked confused, a dangerous tone hidden underneath his playful one.

“Well, you see, she got hit with some kind of strange gas and now… well… she turned into a toddler…” Steve explained, scratching the back of his head while avoiding to make eye contact.

“What…?” Natasha asked even more confused, rubbing your back gently as you fussed before you settled down again.

“I don’t know what happened. The Hydra base we were at was not abandoned, but they didn’t try to hurt us. I left her alone for just a minute while I went to fight other Hydra agents off, and when I came back, well…” he finished, motioning to your sleeping form.

“I’m really sorry…” Steve added apologetically as he looked down.

Bucky took a deep breath before laying his hand on his best friend’s shoulder.

“We’ll go and see Bruce. Hopefully he can help us reverse it,” Bucky stated. Steve looked up at him confused, before he noticed Natasha’s massive smile while she interacted with your younger self. Maybe this wasn’t all bad.

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After speaking with Bruce and Tony, Natasha and Bucky found out that your little form was reversible, but that it would simply take time. They stated that eventually the effects of the gas would wear off, and then you’d be back to your normal, teenager form again.

Natasha and Bucky thanked them as they made their way to the living room, you still happily in Natasha’s arms.

Bucky had already started planning an entire mental list of all the things they would have to get for you. I mean, you were two years old and the only thing that adorned your little body was the fuzzy blanket from the Quinjet.

There weren’t any clothes for you. There wasn’t anything in the Avengers tower for a two year old.

On top of that, Natasha and Bucky had never taken care of a toddler before. You were eleven when the Avengers saved you, and you were eleven when you were adopted by Natasha and Bucky. They didn’t know the first thing about taking care of a young child.

While Bucky rummaged in the kitchen, trying to find something appropriate for you to eat, Natasha sat on the couch with you in her lap, playing peek a boo while you giggled and tried to copy her movements.

Bucky eventually settled on grabbing you an apple, coming back from the kitchen and handing it to you.

Natasha gave him an unimpressed look when you took the apple from Bucky’s hand, studying it for a second before holding it back up to Bucky. Bucky looked confused, sending Natasha a glance for help.

“She’s two, James,” Natasha simply stated as Bucky hesitantly took the apple back.

“Daddy cut,” you stated as you pointed at the apple, and Bucky immediately realised how stupid he had been.

He went back into the kitchen, hearing you giggle as Natasha stated, ‘stupid daddy,’ in a playful tone. Once he returned with the apple, cut this time, he sat beside Natasha, holding the little bowl while you reached for a piece.

You happily munched on your apple slice while you laid down on Natasha’s chest.

Perhaps they should lay you down for a nap soon.

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

Clint had heard about what had happened to you. He had immediately started digging around in the old clothes from Lila and Nathaniel. The clothes they had kept from Lila were all baby clothes, and so he settled on just grabbing some of Nathaniel’s clothes.

He arrived at the compound quickly, finding you still sitting on the couch, finishing your last apple slice.

Natasha held you close as she softly rocked you back and forth, a happy and content smile on her face. She loved you more than anything in the world. She loved your shopping trips, your determination when you insisted on certain songs during car rides. Your ability to make Bucky say yes to whatever you asked. But she could not deny how much she had longed to hold you in your younger years.

Holding you, in your two year old form, was everything she had ever wanted.

You were so small. So fragile. So young. Natasha was more than grateful that she gets to experience you being so small as well.

Clint smiled at the sight, walking into the living area and sitting on a chair close to Natasha and Bucky.

“She’s adorable,” he stated as he got a good look at you.

Your little head perked up at the sound of his voice. “Uhncle Clint!” You stated happily, tripping over your words as they came out as a mushed up mess.

“Hello there tiny,” Clint responded as he smiled at you.

“I got you some of Nathaniel’s old clothes. I couldn’t find anything from Lila’s but I figured this will do for now,” Clint explained to Natasha and Bucky as he handed Bucky the clothes.

You little arm immediately reached towards the pile of clothes, sitting up straight in Natasha’s lap as you pulled the clothing items out of the perfect pile, wanting to see all of them. Eventually, you reached for a shirt with little planets on it. You held it up to Natasha.

“On mama,” you stated firmly, to which Natasha laughed while she helped you into the shirt.

Eventually, you were happily dressed in a miss matching set of pajamas, leaning into Natasha again as your eyes started to fall close.

“I think it’s time for a nap,” Natasha stated as she stood up, holding you tightly to her chest as she made her way towards hers and Bucky’s bedroom. Bucky followed her as they went into the bedroom, Natasha laying you on the bed.

“Do two year olds wear diapers…?” Bucky asked, deep in thought while he contemplated putting a diaper on you or not.

Natasha let out a huff of amusement before handing a diaper to Bucky.

“Yes they do,” she stated as she sat down on the bed, making sure you kept laying down as Bucky gave her a confused look.

“Well go on dad, put a diaper on your kid,” Natasha stated playfully, listening to your giggles as Bucky’s face heated up.

“I don’t know how…” Bucky stated, a little embarrassed.

“Come on super soldier, I’ll talk you through it. It’s not that hard,” Natasha explained as she motioned for Bucky to get to work.

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After Bucky’s diaper adventure you were asleep pretty quickly, all the excitement from the day catching up to you as you slept peacefully on the big bed. Natasha had laid pillows all around you, building some kind of wall to ensure you wouldn’t roll out of the bed while you slept.

After you were down and content, Natasha had offered to go to the mall to pick out a few necessities for you. Bucky had reluctantly agreed, even though he was terrified to take care of you. You were only a little baby, and he was terrified to hurt you.

Natasha had assured him that he would do great, and Clint had offered to stay nearby incase Bucky would need anything.

And so, Natasha happily went to the mall, shopping in all the baby stores as she put way to many objects in her basket. She had never had such an experience before. Sure, she occasionally picked up a thing or two for Clint’s kids, but getting to pick out stuff for her own little girl felt entirely different.

She had already received a dozen texts while she was gone, all from Bucky as he slightly panicked with every sound or movement you made.

Natasha chuckled to herself as she read through the texts, assuring Bucky you were fine and that you were just sleeping like any normal toddler would.

“Are you looking for anything specific?”

The question pulled Natasha away from her phone, turning to look at the woman beside her. She had a kind smile on her face as she scanned the objects in Natasha’s basket.

“Oh, uhm, I’m not sure,” Natasha stated, giving the woman a smile back.

“Your first child?” the woman asked, and Natasha nodded with a bright smile on her face.

“It was unexpected, to say the least,” she chuckled at her own joke, watching the woman’s face as she smiled kindly.

“How old is she?” the woman asked, judging by the basket contents that you were a girl.

“Two,” Natasha stated as she picked up another set of pajamas, the pattern a collection of different cartoon drawings of your favourite animal.

“It’s a great age. I loved it when my kids were that age,” the woman told Natasha.

“Children that age often want comfort items. Does she have anything like a stuffed animal, or maybe a special blanket?” the woman suggested, and Natasha thought for a moment before shaking her head.

“No, I suppose she doesn’t. I should probably pick one up for her,” she stated as she gave the woman another smile, moving to walk over to the stuffed animal section.

The woman trailed behind her and guided her towards a collection of adorable bears, all dressed in various pajama sets that were sold around the store.

“You could get one with the same pajamas as your daughter,” the woman explained excitedly, picking up a bear dressed in the same pajamas that Natasha had picked out earlier.

Natasha took the bear, thanking the woman before making her way to check out.

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

Once Natasha arrived back at the Avengers tower the first thing she noticed was how the common area was a chaos. Clint and Wanda were looking around while Bucky just paced around panicking.

Natasha walked over to Bucky, a determination to calm her boyfriend down before he would have a mental breakdown.

“Y/n’s gone,” Bucky stated as he say Natasha come into view.

Clint immediately turned around upon hearing Bucky’s words, letting out a chuckle and walking over to Natasha as well.

“For the record, y/n is not gone, she is simply playing hide and seek,” Clint started, looking around. “And she’s damn good at it…”

Natasha laughed as she set her bags on the couch.

“Y/n? Sweetie, it’s mommy. I have some things for you,” Natasha stated in a sing songy voice, her ears immediately perking up when she heard your excited giggles coming from her right.

There you were, running as fast as your little legs could take you, straight for Natasha’s lap.

You jumped up on the couch, climbing onto Natasha as you hugged her tightly.

“Mommy!” you exclaimed happily, giggling as Natasha attacked your face with kisses.

“Was my little princess hiding from daddy?” Natasha asked as you nodded, still giggling as you pointed over to Bucky.

“Daddy not finding me!” you exclaimed, stretching out to give Natasha a kiss on her cheek.

Bucky sighed with relief as he moved to sit down beside you two, his large hand stroking your back, it almost being as big as your entire back. You giggled and pushed yourself away from Natasha, using her shoulders to push yourself up so you could give Bucky a kiss as well.

“I best at hid and seeking,” you stated proudly, and Bucky chuckled as he nodded, giving you a kiss on your forehead.

“Look what I have for you my little malyshka,” Natasha said as she reached into the bag, pulling the stuffed animal from the bag and handing it over to you.

You smiled brightly, immediately hugging the bear tightly to your chest when you got it into your hands.

“Matching pajamas…” Bucky stated with amusement as he pulled the pajama set from the bag, holding it up for you and Natasha to see.

You gasped in excitement as reached over to it.

“On mommy, on,” you stated as you managed to get the pajamas in your hands.

Natasha chuckled and helped you out of Nathaniel’s old clothes, ripping open the packaging of the new pajamas and helping you put them on.

“I look like bear!” you exclaimed happily as you looked at yourself, holding up your bear for Natasha and Bucky to see.

“Yes you do doll,” Bucky stated as he pulled you into his lap, showering your face with kisses.

Both Natasha and Bucky would never say it out loud, but they hoped you would stay a two year old for a little while longer, loving the new domestic feeling it gave them to raise a little kid. Of course, they loved you and they would be more than happy when you were to turn back into your teenage self, but they couldn’t deny the fact that they wanted to enjoy holding your little form for as long as possible.

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @simp-erformarvelwomen @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @mxximoffswifey @lorsstar1st

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caplanbuckybarnes · 16 days ago

Text

She's Like Heroin (bucky)

Summary: you and Bucky have been fighting for MONTHS. And you couldn't figure out why until you catch him trying to leave without saying a word to you.

Warnings: fighting, arguing, crying, mistrust, lies(?), fluff if you squint hard enough

WC: 1.2k

A/N: i've been relocating old tumblr fics of mine from old followers. i had located this one from 2017(!) hopefully, y'all enjoy it!

Read on Ao3!

You and Bucky have been a thing for a little over three years now. The Avengers have fallen apart over a year ago, causing you and Bucky to move out of the compound and into a small apartment together. Which would have been completely fine, if the two of you had gotten along recently without fighting every chance you had while the two of you shared the same oxygen.

You couldn’t pinpoint when you had fallen out with him, not really anyway. When the two of you had first started dating, everything was perfectly fine and dandy- happy even, is what you’d call yourself. But, over the last year, after the band had broken apart and gone their separate ways, stress became too much for the pair of you.

You’d started fighting over little things first; the laundry not being done, leftover food in the fridge had gone rotten. Then he’d start complaining about you playing games on his phone. He started getting paranoid, you’d take a gander of guessing.

You’d thought he was only irritated because neither of you had gotten along together. But late at night, you’d hear him in the other room talking quietly on the phone. You’d guessed that he might have been cheating on you, but you couldn’t be too sure on that.

You’d also assumed that all he brainwashing hydra had done to him might have started to come back; he was more angry lately around you. He always mumbled to himself whenever the two of you were around each other.

You’d hated the fact that he was changing so much, so drastically from the Bucky you had fallen in love with. But nothing you had said to him would change anything that happened between the two of you. He was bitter and angry as ever. He was stoic and numb whenever he was forced to speak with you.

But his mannerisms had changed whenever he were around Steve or Sam, and even Natasha. He was chipper and giddy, smiles and grins and eye twinkles shining brightly in his blue irises. You couldn’t begin to wonder what you had done wrong for him to act so coldly with you.

He’d faked his love for you whenever the opportunity presented itself. He would place his hand on the small of your back and whisper sweet nothings in your ear whenever the two of you were forced to be around the others.

He would grin his childish grin at you, though you had seen right through it. You knew it was all a facade. You knew he didn’t mean anything of it. You knew it. You could feel the grip of your dress wherever he planted his hand for that moment. You could sense the loathing radiating from him.

You’d wanted to break it off with him plenty of times. But you couldn’t. He never stayed in your breathing space whenever you were alone long enough for you to get a word out to him.

You’d spent this final night alone, as usual. Bed vacated, silence filling the room. A glass of wine in front of you. The taste of the bitter liquid coating your tongue. Thoughts of him were lost to you as you drained the remaining liquid into your mouth before sulking over to the kitchen sink and rinsing the glass out.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there. Just hold onto it for me, yeah?” His voice spilled into the living room, the front door ricocheting against the wall as he stormed inside.

“Bucky!” You called out in alarm as he made his way into the kitchen; his face had a deep gash on his cheek, his shirt torn in the front, hardly hanging on by a thread. He ignored your call to him as he grabbed for an apple from the center of the kitchen table and made his way up the stairs to the bedroom.

You followed him in haste, wondering what the hell was going on and why he seemed so distressed and torn apart.

“Bucky?” you repeated, this time, in a softer tone as he made his way into his bedroom and started throwing clothes into a getaway bag.

“I’ll call you when I’m at the airport,” he spoke into the phone before rounding on you. “What?”

“What the fuck is going on?” You asked in exasperation. “Bucky, you’re hurt. Who did this to you?”

“Oh, like you give a shit,” he spat, pushing passed you to collect his armour from the closet. “Go hang out with Natasha, will you?”

“No, Bucky,” you blinked, wondering what the hell was he doing, collecting his tactical gear. There hadn’t been a mission in over six months, not that you nor Bucky would volunteer for it. “What happened to you?” You took a step forward, scared to approach him further as his eyes you wildly for a long monet, standing in the bedroom, painting,

“Zemo’s still around,” he whispered, dropping his shoulders. “I thought T’challa had dealt with him. Apparently the man he had killed was a decoy.”

“And what the fuck are you planning to do?” You shout out to him. “Bucky, if you think I’m letting you go after him alone, you’re off your radar.”

“Like you care,” he spat.

“Bucky, stop this.” You demanded. “You’re the one who started acting differently all those months ago. And you need to tell me why.”

He chewed his cheek for a moment before sighing. “I’ve been after him for a long time coming, Y/N.” He explained. “I know you think I was cheating, or I hated you, but that was never the case.”

“Then what-”

“I tried getting you to hate me so you wouldn’t care if I went after him.,” he explained, returning to packing his bag. “I didn’t want you to get into the crossfire.”

“So that’s why you’ve been so utterly rude and obnoxious?” You scoffed. “You should have just said something to me, Buck. I would have understood. I know what zemo had done to you.”

“You wouldn’t have let me go to him, Y/N. You care for me too much. Sam and Steve have known this for a long time. They helped track him down. And whether you like it or not, I’m leaving for Greece tonight.”

“Like hell you are.” You spat, crossing your arms across your chest.

“I’ll come back to you,” he spoke softer. “Steve would revive me and kill me himself if I died on this mission.”

“Who else knows?” You asked, shifting on your feet.

“Nobody, as far as the team are concerned, I’m breaking up with you.”

“And?” You drew out slowly.

“I’ll return with a clear conscience once Zemo is permanently underground.” He smiled, inching towards you.

“I hate you,” you sighed out as he wrapped a tender hand around your waist. “Why couldn’t you just tell me?”

“Because I can’t lose you, not on a mission like this.” He leaned in for a kiss before he dropped his hands away from you and grabbed for his bag. “I’m meeting Sam and Steve at the airport. We’re not taking the quinjet.”

“Let me drive you?” You offered.

He chuckled. “No, sweetheart. I can’t do that.”

“Please return to me?”

He nodded before he left the room, leaving you to sit on his bed in silence.

please reblog if you enjoyed <3

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unholyhelbig · 1 year ago

Note

Natasha Romanoff x Reader with "Who did this to you?"

Title: Hallway Meetings

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 2077

Warnings: Injuries, blood, bruising, mugging, Bad Grammar

[A/n: I haven't written Nat in awhile, so here is some hurt comfort!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

By the time you made it back to your apartment, the adrenaline had sufficiently worn off. The rush of energy that kept the pain at bay was the only thing that made it possible for you to sit through the bus ride across the city, the lights were much too bright and blue, your head pounding. You pressed your fingers against your ribs on the ride home, each exhalation trembling.

Somewhere along the way, the bus came rolling to a stop and the man behind the wheel huffed out at you. “End of the line.”

You were the only one on the bus, and by that time, you were fighting sleep entirely. There was no one else on the bus, and you didn’t see the point in arguing with him. His eyes were tired and dark. Something told you he was having a worse day than you were.

With begrudging compliance, you walked the three blocks to your building. You had forgotten your coat, and by the time you made it to the entrance, there was a numbness to the fingers that you refused to realize until you typed your code in and felt what real warmth was for only a moment.

The lobby smelled damp, as it always did despite the dry winter that the city was experiencing. Sickly yellow lights changed the tile on the floor from beige to green, and you lamented the fact that the elevator that had been busted since your move-in date was still in the same condition.

Any other day, it wouldn’t’ bother you. But you let out an involuntary groan at the sight before making your way up the first flight of stairs, your fingers still pushed against the aching of your mid-section. You were certain that they were broken, or at the very least, bruised. It pained you to take a deep breath.

Two more flights of stairs and the excitement of the night had worn away entirely. Your whole body pulsed with pain, with fatigue and regret for not listening to your mother the million times she told you to be careful on your way home, to keep an eye on your surroundings.

It’s not you that I don’t trust, it’s other people. Her words echoed listlessly in your mind as you searched your pockets for your keys. The group of men who had jumped you must have snagged them too, or they were lost in the shuffle of things. Either way, you were locked out, and the damn was about to break.

“Come on,” You whispered, pressing your aching head against the cool wood of the door. You suppose you should be thinking whatever higher power was up there for letting you escape with your life, just not your cell phone. But right now, it all felt like a cruel joke.

You weren’t sure how long you lingered there, but it was long enough to slide down to the carpeted hallway and lean your head against the wall. It was much too late to call your landlord, even if you could. You were suddenly content to sleep the night off in the corridor. Concussion or not, unconsciousness called to you.

At some point, you’d drifted off to the buzzing sound of the overhead lights. When your neighbor approached, you didn’t’ make any attempt to unfold yourself at the sound of her soft footsteps. She had always been so courteous when she was home, making as little noise as possible, even when she arrived well into the night. This was no different.

She put her hand on your shoulder softly, it was a stark difference from the cold of the hallway, and you startled all the same, inhaling deeply and with enough haste to make you wince, a soft “ow,” escaping your lips.

Natasha was knelt down in front of you, an undeniable look of worry on her face. The two of you had been neighbors for over a year now, and you would be the last to admit that you wanted to get to know her better. She was quite elusive, and always kind. She was a mystery to you, and that made you all the more curious.

The two of you operated on the same schedule when she was home. You often ended up walking down to the mailboxes together, sharing in small talk. She was guarded at first, but the first time you had gotten her to open up, to laugh at a joke you couldn’t even recall, you knew that you wanted to hear that sound more than once.

Natasha would help you up the stairs with your groceries, despite your protests. You would help her learn how to cook something other than boxed mac and cheese. The two of you had shared a six-pack of beer during the buildings holiday block party on the roof, despite the cold. That night, Natasha had taught you how to peg a stop sign with a snowball, her aim impeccable.

The moments were few and far between, but they meant something to you both. You hadn’t seen her for about a month at this point and figured that she was traveling. There was no mention of what she did for work, and she seemed content not to tell you, just as you were content to let her do so in her own time.

There was a suitcase next to her door, something you had never seen her with before. She was dressed in sweats, looking casual from a long day of travel. Her auburn hair was up in a loose bun, strands falling and framing her face. You couldn’t help but think that she was stunning.

Your face must have looked pretty banged up, because you could audibly hear her breath lodge in her throat. You hadn’t bothered calling the police, nor did you see much benefit in lingering in the spot that you’d been attacked. The only thought on your mind was getting back here, certainly not with the intention of seeing Natasha.

“Y/n,” her voice was gravelly. There was a coolness to her fingers that you wanted to lean into as she lifted your chin to get a better look at the pulsing feeling around your eye. You winced as her thumb moved against your busted lip, smearing away a streak of blood. “Who did this to you?”

Her voice was hard, almost with an edge of a threat on her tongue. You’d never heard her sound this way before. She was always soft, if not quiet in her calculations. Now, you saw worry and anger etched onto her beautiful features.

“Just some guys,” you said in an exhalation. “It’s not a big deal I got locked out.”

The attempt to diffuse her worry was going poorly. Natasha frowned at you and released your chin. You struggled to voice your protests as Natasha eased her arm tightly around your center, pulling you to your feet. You saw stars, not quite sure if it was from her sudden closeness, or the exhaustive injuries.

Natasha was strong. She held you with little effort, even as you threatened to slump back down into your previous position. She unlocked her door, and you were welcomed with a warm darkness until she flicked on the light by the door.

Her home was modest, and understated. It overlooked a beautiful part of the city, the walls lined with novels that you’d otherwise be interested in. There were undertones of vanilla and tobacco, the same scent Natasha carried like a sword, your nose pressed against the small of her neck as she led you to the sofa and deposited you there.

Natasha vanished down the hallway. If her apartment mirrored yours, she would move towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. You nudged yourself up taller on the sofa, trying not to let your blood wick into its fabric. When She returned, she sheepishly shook a first-aide kit.

She set out her supplies and you groaned when you saw the bottle of iodine and cotton pads. She had done this before. Natasha worked with ease, she unscrewed the cap on the bottle before flipping it onto the pad, a sick brown liquid sopped into the surface. You could smell it from here, nose crinkling in response.

“Stop squirming, this will help.”

You highly doubted that, but all the same, let her work at the cut that was slit across your eyebrow. She dabbed the antiseptic and you refused to pull away. You knew that you would never try to get out of Natasha’s grasp. Her hand was warm and guiding. The sting eventually eased.

She asked, “Do you remember where you were when this happened?”

“Whoever they are, they’re long gone.”

You drew in a sharp breath when she nudged your ribs by accident. A discontent frown fell across her features. It wasn’t the same look of heated anger that dawned on her in the hallway. Instead, this was one of pure concern.

“We should really wrap that, you know? There’s no cure for broken ribs, but we can ease your suffering a bit with some plastic wrap.”

Before you could answer she put the iodine on the table and walked towards her kitchen. You watched her carefully. Each movement was calculated. “How do you know so much about this?”

“I’ve been put into some unsavory positions.” Natasha returned with a meager roll of cellophane. She stood, a pink color on her cheeks. “You’re going to have to take off your shirt.”

Now you were sputtering, mumbling a few things under your breath. The thrumming of your mid-section was enough for you to agree, even though your own cheeks heated up at the thought. She had a bit of a quirk to her lip, both eyebrows raised in amusement.

You got stuck halfway through, a twinge of pain shooting through your core. You must have winced, or Natasha could read the pain in your eyes because she mercifully helped you the rest of the way out. When she was done, the two of you were incredibly close, her breath warm on your skin, goosebumps coating every inch of your body.

A budding bruise stretched across your ribs, marring the tender flesh there. Natasha exhaled deeply, you felt the action everywhere. Her fingers moved across the deep smudges of brown and black and purple. Your mouth was suddenly dry as her forehead leaned against yours. She was quieter than usual.

“This shouldn’t have happened.” Natasha was knelt in front of you again, glowering as her soft touch soothed your aching. “I’ve spent my entire life making up for mistakes that I’ve made. Trying to stop the big bads of the world when… when horrible things happen everywhere, and the truth is, I can’t stop everything.”

“You don’t need to shoulder that responsibility, Natasha.” You mindlessly cupped her cheek and she sighed into the touch, her eyes closing for a moment of gratitude. “That’s not your job.”

“It is,” She swallowed hard “it is. And it pains me that you’re hurting like this. That I couldn’t protect you. All I’ve wanted to do since the moment I’ve met you is protect you from me, and seeing you like this, God, it shouldn’t’ have happened.”

She was crying, and you thumbed them away as she had done with your blood a few moments earlier. If there was any hesitancy in her emotion, it washed away with the simple gesture. Her nose brushed against yours, cold from the journey home.

Nat smelled of melted snow and you remembered the night on the rooftop. The way your elbows brushed together as you watched the lights over the city. You almost closed the distance then and there, but she’d pulled away, and you awkwardly downed another frothy beer before she threw a second snowball, nailing the stop sign where you had fallen short.

Now, it was her that leaned in. There was a slight nip of pain where your lip had split, but it eased slowly into pleasure. She tasted like hazelnut coffee from the airport, of an edge of mind. Your fingers traced her jaw. She sighed into the kiss, the most fragile sound in the world.

You broke the embrace regrettably, sucking air through your teeth “oh, ouch.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry” she chuckled softly, nudging her forehead with her own, touch dancing over your midsection. “We really should get you patched up.”

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Soft Natasha Romanoff #Hurt/comfort #request #Marvel #Marvel Fanfiction

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mviswidow · 10 months ago

Text

more than you know

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Nat and R get high together & fuck (a tiny bit of fluff at the end)

Content Warnings: NSFW!! switch!natasha; oral; fingering; marijuana use

A/N: i don't write smut often but i'm hoping this is good🫠

“I’ll take another hit,” Natasha murmurs after a couple minutes of silence, and you nod in response, taking your cart out of your pocket and handing it over.

“Thanks.”

You manage to look away from the window that held a beautiful view of the city’s skyline that had captivated you both and look over to Natasha, who was just as beautiful (if not more). You watch her inhale, her tolerance is impressive since she doesn’t seem to smoke often.

“Are you like a secret stoner or something?” You probe, turning to sit facing her, sinking further into the couch.

“I used to smoke when I got back from missions for a couple months but I started to get a little dependent on it so I only smoke weed when I’m offered now. For the most part.”

You hum in acknowledgement, “I have to smoke to get to sleep every once in a while.”

Natasha lazily turns her head in your direction, it urges you to continue.

“It’s usually when I don’t have missions that I have the most trouble getting sleep. I’m less exhausted and my mind kind of just goes everywhere and I get stressed - it becomes a lot to handle sober sometimes.”

“I know the feeling,” she nods, a sad smile on her face.

There’s a lull between the two of you and you study her face. Her eyes look a little squinty but they shine in the darkness nonetheless; her cheeks are tinged a gentle pink color that’s difficult to make out. You’re in a bit of a trance, letting your eyes gaze upon Natasha as you did the city’s skyline - refusing to miss any details.

The corners of her full lips quirk up into a real smile and she shakes her head, feeling slightly scrutinized by your gaze but knowing better than to believe that you mean for her to feel that way, “What?”

“I’m just looking at you,” you say, as if you’d looked at her that way many times before. (You have, she’s just never caught you.)

“Why?” her brows pinch together.

“I want to. You’re beautiful.”

Natasha’s cheeks are a deeper pink now. Her pupils are dilated and her lips part as she glances down to your own.

“I told myself I wouldn’t do this with you,” she says, and it sounds like she’s reprimanding herself.

“But you want to?” you hum, leaning forward with an eyebrow raised.

“More than you know.”

“I’m not scared of you.”

“Maybe you should be,” she rasps, pulling you in by the back of your neck and crashing your lips together.

Her lips are softer than you could have imagined but Natasha is rough, eager to explore every inch of you.

You moan at the sensation of her tongue in your mouth and it spurs her on. She kisses you feverishly and you try to keep up. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to ignore the growing discomfort between your legs.

Natasha bites and pulls at your bottom lip for a quick moment before moving to attack your neck. Your hand comes up to her hair and gets lost in her red tresses, rolling your hips into hers on instinct when you feel her nip at your pulse point.

She hums in satisfaction at your reaction and is quick to situate her thigh in between your legs, giving you some friction.

You suddenly feel her warm fingertips underneath your shirt, ghosting up your torso. They graze the bottom of your breast as she leans back up to kiss you once again, “You’re gorgeous.”

Natasha is more gentle this time and she smiles against your lips when your breath hitches in response to her finding your nipple, rolling it between her fingers and tugging.

“Nat, please,” you gasp when she pinches your nipple, your brain fuzzy from your high and your arousal.

“What do you want, detka?” she murmurs, lifting your shirt over your head. She almost moans at the sight of you.

Her hot mouth connects with your nipple with haste and your breath leaves you.

Nat chuckles before sucking a hickey on your breast, “C’mon, baby. You can tell me.”

“I need you,” you whimper. “Fuck me, please, Nat.”

She groans against your chest and tugs your sweatpants off. Her hand finds its place between your thighs quickly and you arch into her when she enters you with two fingers.

“God, yes,” you pant, head thrown back as your nails dig into her shoulder.

You can see the satisfaction on Nat’s face as she watches you desperately buck your hips to meet her fingers as they thrust into you. She can’t believe how wet you are for her and it only makes her go faster.

“Can’t be too loud, detka,” she warns you after noticing you’d become pretty loud, drunk off her fingers. “Don’t want to wake anyone up.”

Natasha leans down to kiss you once again, muffling the expletives and moans that had been leaving your mouth.

You’re sure that your lips will be bruised in the morning but you can’t bring yourself to care because you feel so good. Natasha’s fingers are curling inside you at a fast and steady pace and you know it won’t be long until you’re cumming on her fingers.

Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth and you’re biting it so hard you think you may bleed.

All you can do is pull Nat closer to you as you throw your head back in ecstasy. She knows you’re close when she starts feeling your muscles clenching, “Show me how good I make you feel.”

Your torso jolts forward and you can’t stop the moan that leaves the back of your throat.

You whine as Natasha works you through your orgasm. She won’t stop until she’s milked as much of it as she can, “That’s it, detka.”

Once you’ve stilled, she removes her fingers from inside of you. You can barely form a thought as you watch her suck her fingers clean before she takes another hit of your cart and blows it up into the air.

Watching her lights a fire inside of you and before you know it, you’re pushing her back on the couch and stripping her of her shorts.

You can tell that her head is swimming from the hit she just took and how fast you’re moving but you don’t give her time to react. You quickly pull down her panties and situate yourself between her legs.

You want to spend time kissing as much of her thighs as you can, but Natasha tangles her fingers in your hair, pushing you down to where she wants you and leaving no room for argument.

You don’t find time to be bothered because all you want right now that you’re in front of her is to hear the beautiful sounds that she makes while you’re bringing her to her climax.

You moan as you lap up the wetness that has collected between her lips, making her hips rut forward.

Nat’s brows knit together when you start to circle her clit with your tongue. Your eyes are glued to her beautiful face as she whimpers quietly, mouth open in pleasure.

Her thighs feel delicious, tightening around your head, and you think this must be what heaven is like.

Upon entering Natasha with a finger, her heel begins to dig into your back, urging you impossibly closer.

“More, please,” she croaks, and who are you to deny her of what she wants?

Nat is reduced to moans when you enter her with another finger and the only thing she seems to remember how to say is your name. You couldn’t be happier.

You pay extra attention to her clit, alternating between sucking and flattening your tongue to give her as much friction as possible as she practically rides your face.

Without warning, Natasha throws her head back, red fiery hair splaying out on the couch, and lets out a long, low moan. Her fingers tighten in your hair and she holds you in place as she rides out her orgasm.

When she releases your hair, you lick her clean before coming up to kiss her slowly, letting her taste herself on your tongue.

You break away to look at her, really just wanting to admire how beautiful she is for a minute, but you notice that she looks a little sad all of a sudden.

“What is it?” You whisper with haste, now worried that you did something wrong.

“Please tell me this isn’t the last time I get to kiss you.”

You smile in relief, “It won’t be, I promise.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #switch!natasha romanoff #marvel #mcu #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #black widow smut #mcu smut #wlw #scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson smut

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silhouetteonpaper · 3 months ago

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Who’s To Blame?

Summary: When you show up at the compound with severe injuries, there’s no guarantee if you’re going to pull through. Even worse than that, there’s no one to explain how you ended up in this situation in the first place. Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Yelena Belova x Reader WC: 2,301 Warnings: Blood loss, wounds, mentions of killing, possible character death but I don’t want to spoil things A/N: I am so happy with how this turned out, I apologize in advance for the angst <3

The deep night sky outside Natasha’s window makes her groan as she rolls over to check the time. 1:35 am, great. Exhaling, she swings herself out of bed, too restless to attempt even another hour of rest. Something feels off tonight, and it’s impeding her ability to get a good night’s sleep.

Instead of trying to close her eyes for the fifth time, she chooses to venture out into the compound’s kitchen to make some tea. It’s silent, almost eerie out in the hallway as the dark cast of nighttime has settled. She doesn’t bother to flick on the lights, the soft glow of the moon providing enough light as Natasha lets her hot mug of tea steep.

The quiet sound of shallow breathing makes her nearly drop the mug, her entire body turning around with haste to see who dares to intrude. To Natasha’s surprise, it’s not an intruder, but rather a familiar figure lying on the couch just across the room.

She approaches, quickly seeing that it’s you sprawled out on the cushions. But you're not all safe and snuggled up against the pillows, instead she spots the blood pooling around your abdomen.

“Hey,” Her hands make quick work of finding the source, the mug now left for the cold on the coffee table. Your eyes flutter open, but it’s obvious they won’t stay that way for long. “Stay with me, I need you to tell me what happened.”

Natasha applies pressure to your wound, a soft whimper escaping your lips. It’s the last bit of energy you can muster, your entire body feeling numb and lifeless. She uses her free hand to cup your cheek, her thumb running up and down in hopes the comfort will keep you conscious.

“I need help out here!” Natasha shouts, looking behind her for any sign of her team. Silence. “Shit, please!” Her volume increases as she eyes your pale skin under the moonlight.

Suddenly, a half-awake group of heroes runs out of their rooms, your eyes barely able to make out their blurry silhouettes. “Nat? What’s going on?” Bruce questions, quickly noticing your limp body on the couch.

“We need to get her to the med bay, while she still has a heartbeat preferably.” Natasha moves to carefully scoop you up, but not before Bruce calls for her to wait.

“There’s no way we can get her there without losing too much blood, I’ll be back in just a minute!” And just like that, the doctor is off running. Natasha furrows her brows and leans back in by your side.

“Please, stay with me. I’m right here.” She grabs your hand, and you’re able to offer the lightest squeeze. Still, it’s enough for the Widow, a small ounce of relief filling her as she realizes you’re not fully out of the game yet.

“Do you know how this happened?” Steve’s voice breaks her focus from you.

Nat shakes her head, attempting to wrack her brain for any possible inkling on how you’d land with a wound this deep. “She said something about a last minute mission earlier, but she didn’t make it sound like a big deal.”

Steve tilted his head in confusion. “Nat, there were no missions today… I would’ve signed off on it.” Natasha was left frozen, but there was no time to think on it any longer as Bruce sprinted over with a case full of supplies.

The Widow reluctantly moved to the side as he began working. The entire group is on edge as he begins to tediously stitch up the wound, excess blood continuing to pour out while Natasha attempts to keep pressure.

30 minutes and nearly 100 stitches later, you’re finally stable enough to be moved to the med bay. The slow mimicked beep of your heart rate fills the room as Natasha sits silently beside the bed. Bruce informed everyone on your current state, assuring them they shouldn’t keep their hopes up for a speedy recovery.

Regardless of your injuries, Natasha’s beside herself with worry without any idea of how this happened. The sun is beginning to peek over the city when Steve knocks on the door. “How’re you holding up?” He stands at the edge of your bed, opposite of Natasha.

“I’m fine,” She breathes. “I just… I can’t even imagine how she could’ve gotten a wound this bad.”

Steve crosses his arms as he scans your lifeless state. “Last minute mission, huh? Do you have any idea what she actually could’ve been doing?” There’s no response at first.

“I wish I did.” Natasha takes a deep breath, the weight of the situation starting to fill her with guilt. Is this her fault for not knowing your whereabouts?

“Don’t do that,” Steve breaks Nat out of her thoughts, getting a confused look as she brings her gaze to him. “Don’t blame yourself.”

She shakes her head once more. “Don’t tell me what to do.” He’s about to argue back, but is interrupted by the sudden blaring noise coming from your heart monitor. “Bruce!” She yells, watching as the flat blue line creates a steady horizon over the screen.

It all happens so fast. Bruce rushing in, beginning chest compressions. Natasha yelling over his shoulder while Steve tries to pull her away. All while the relentless sound of truth hits everyone at once. The beeping goes quiet.

So does Natasha, but only for a moment. “No, no, make it start beeping again. She’s not dead, make it start working!” She’s beginning to shout as she tries to reach for the lifeless vitals monitor.

“She’s gone Nat! She’s gone, and there’s nothing we can do to change that!” Steve tries to calm her down, ending up in a near fist fight with the Widow as her grief floods all at once. He pulls her to the wall, both sliding down it as she begins to sob.

Her thoughts are overwhelmed with flooding accusations; it’s all my fault, it should’ve been me. But one thing swirls her mind like a tornado, blowing away the blame as it can’t change the absolute truth. You’re dead. And no one knows why.

The beaming sun lands onto the table covered in papers, each white sheet filled to the brim with various logs and charts. Natasha’s at the head of it all, flipping through each record and scanning it thoroughly before doing the same to the next… and the next… and-

“Nat?” Steve stands in the doorway of the office, trying to hide his widened eyes at the sight before him. It’s only been a few days since your passing—and besides filling her time with your funeral planning, Natasha’s also been caught up in figuring out the cause. What got you the deathly wound in the first place?

She doesn’t even look up from her tedious task, the super soldier finally walking forward and seeing for himself what’s got her so focused. “Damn, you’ve got every single comms record, mission log, criminal activity report… Nat, I don’t think-“

“Don’t tell me what to do.” She interrupts, refusing to lift her eyes from the stack of papers she’s holding.

“Yeah, you’ve been saying that a lot these days,” Steve comments before sitting down across the table. “Look, if you want to find out what happened to her, I don’t think you’re going to find it here.”

Finally, Natasha’s gaze unsticks from the pages. “Are you saying you know something I don’t?” Her eyes nearly widened with desperation, the need to find out what happened to you tearing her apart.

Steve takes a deep breath, wondering if it’s a good idea to loop Natasha into another research frenzy. “Not necessarily. Her phone was found downtown this morning. I figured if anyone is going to look through it, it should be you.” He takes out the mobile phone from his pocket, placing it softly in the middle of her chaotic mess of papers.

Her breath catches, the sight of any remnant of you making her nearly start to cry again. She only manages to nod, slowly reaching out for the phone. Natasha takes a second to feel it in her hands, the same sleek shape reminding her of the numerous times you made her take your photo, or when you’d hand it over to show a cute video. The reminder of your consistent smiling expression, it made a tear finally break free from Natasha’s stoic hold.

Steve leaves her to it as she reluctantly powers it on. The sudden reveal of your lock screen image makes her question if she really wants to do this, a recent photo of you and her making silly faces burning into Natasha’s tender heart.

Typing in the passcode is like muscle memory. 3123. 3/1/23. The day you became an Avenger. As all of your apps and notifications load into place, there’s no turning back.

3 Unread Messages

Yelena Belova

Hey, did you do it?

Starting to get worried… did you make it back okay?

Okay, seriously, I’m freaking out.

“She’s in contact with your sister? Do you have any idea why?” Steve and Natasha sit around the living room, a narrowed down stack of mission logs now spread across the coffee table.

“No, my sister’s really good about being vague over text.” Natasha responds, scrolling through your text history with Yelena for the third time, her heart racing no matter how many times she’s seen it. Multiple messages about ‘completing’ something, ‘following through’, ‘making it back’, it was all so cryptic. And there’s only one way to try and find out what it means.

“I think I need to call Yelena.” Natasha deduces, sitting in silence for a moment as she thinks what this could lead to. She hasn’t spoken to her sister in a few years, but has heard inklings about her whereabouts. Working under a new branch, doing missions for anyone just to get by.

“Do you really think Yelena could’ve been involved in the cause of her death?” Steve questioned. Natasha shrugged unknowingly.

“At this rate, I’m not ruling it out.” Natasha discloses while pulling out her own phone. It takes a few seconds for her to find Yelena’s number, the phone ringing for quite a while before finally a familiar accent sounds.

“Natasha,” Yelena answers, a weary tone seeping through even with just her voice. “I think I know what this is about.”

“Well, I’m certainly not calling to ask for my sweater back.” Natasha comments, sitting in the uncomfortable silence that forms after.

“Please tell me she’s alive.” Yelena’s fully worried now as she realizes the only reason her sister could call had to pertain to the lack of your responses from the other week.

“She’s dead.” Natasha states bluntly. It’s easy to feel the guilt flooding over Yelena on the other end of the line. “What did you do to her?”

Yelena takes an offended breath. “Me! She was doing this for you!” More silence sits between both ends of the call, but this time it isn’t awkward—it’s accusatory.

“What do you mean, Yelena?” Natasha speaks slowly. “I need you to tell me everything you know.”

Natasha and Yelena unknowingly take a simultaneous deep breath. “She… she wanted to eliminate Veronika Lebedev.” The name makes Natasha shudder, just as you did the first time she told you about this target.

Veronika, one of the handful of people at the head of the Red Room that made Natasha’s past a living nightmare. She’d confided in you not long ago about her experience, and more specifically each encounter with the walking grim reaper known as Madam Lebedev.

It was at that moment, Natasha felt the worst dread of all. Not because she was reminded of all the horrid things that happened in the Red Room, but because she knew exactly what happened to you. You tried to eliminate one of the strongest forces Natasha’s faced.

“Nat?” Yelena pulls Natasha back into the present, her attention suddenly fixated on ending a certain perpetrator’s life. But suddenly, her mind is no longer preoccupied as her sister utters two powerful words. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You're not the one that killed my closest friend.” Natasha breathes.

“Because she came to me asking where to look, and I told her. I shouldn’t have, I wasn’t thinking. I should’ve known Vernonika wouldn’t hesitate to swing first.” Yelena voices, the sound of sniffling lacing her words. “What’re you going to do?”

Natasha thinks for a moment, all the possibilities swirling in her mind. She wants more than anything to kill Veronika, to avenge your reason for knocking on death’s door too early. But a part of her feels urged to just… leave it.

What would you say if Natasha offered to go kill her worst enemy in your stead? You probably wouldn’t be too happy about it, and that very same thought process is working it’s way through the Widow’s mind.

“I think I need to bury my friend.” Natasha decides, the lingering guilt leaving her to get you safe and at peace as soon as possible. That’s her real priority, not killing someone, not avenging, not saving the world, but making sure her best friend can rest easy.

“I think that’s best.” Yelena agrees, the two of them sitting in a more comfortable silence now. “Hey, Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I come to the funeral?” Yelena asks softly. Natasha chuckles slightly, the memory of you and the blonde meeting for the first time replaying in her mind. Endless laughter, constant jokes, and a bond that could never be broken. The same bond Natasha has with you that no one can deny, not even a sister. So who is she to deny Yelena that?

Natasha finally comes to an answer. “I think she’d love that.”

#marvel #mcu #marvel fanfic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader

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hopelesslygaysstuff · 4 months ago

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50 Shades of Red || Chapter 3

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

summary: Kate is excited and there's a photoshoot. And lots of gay pining and panicking. Mostly on Wanda's end.

content warnings: Vision being a weirdo

word count: 4.5k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Kate is elated.

She’s almost too excited. Wanda finds it suspicious, and narrows her eyes as her roommate starts speaking quickly, her voice high and her words stumbling against each other in her haste to speak.

“What was she doing in town? Wait, never mind I don’t really care. She totally came to see you!” Her excited voice blares through the speakers on Wanda’s phone.

Wanda is in the stock room while Carol is in charge of the front of the store, attempting to count inventory while her mind replays every second of Ms. Romanoff’s visit an hour ago. She had shot off a quick text to Kate, asking if she’d like a personal photoshoot with the CEO, and her roommate had immediately called her, burning with questions.

“I mean, no fucking way it was just a coincidence that she happened to stop by the only store in town that you work in. You don’t think that was on purpose?”

“She said she was visiting some department for research,” Wanda says, setting the pen down on her clipboard as Kate clucks her tongue on the other end of the line. She didn’t know why her heart sank slightly at the thought, cursing her excitement at the prospect of Ms. Romanoff purposely coming into town to see her.

“Oh, that’s right. She’s giving the renewable energy research facility a 3 million dollar grant.” Kate’s voice cracks over the speaker slightly, and Wanda feels her eyes go wide.

“How do you know that?”

“Dude, my job is literally chief editor for the University newspaper, keep up.”

“Oh,” Wanda shakes her head. That makes sense. She must be really out of it, distracted by Ms. Romanoff’s impromptu shopping trip. She changes the subject. “So do you want the photos of her then?”

Kate’s high-pitched screech sounds out, and Wanda jerks the phone away from her ear as the sound reverberates in her eardrum. She winces, making out the words Kate is yelling.

“Of fucking course I want the photos. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Wands!! Ms. Romanoff never lets anyone take photos of her, and this would be a private photoshoot. We could have hundreds of personalized photos of her, do you know how rare that is?”

“Okay, okay,” Wanda laughs, hearing Kate’s harsh breathing sound out as she catches her breath. “We just have to figure out who is going to take them, and where.”

“Where do you think Ms. Romanoff would want to do the photoshoot? Like, will she judge us if it’s in some warehouse?” Kate asks, her voice starting to get more high-pitched.

Wanda knows what that means. Her roommate is overthinking, and her hands are probably shaking as her mind runs a mile a minute.

“We can ask her about a location, since she’s staying in the area.” Wanda’s voice is soft, and she hears Kate’s breathing calm slightly. It’s a start.

“How would we ask her?”

“Well,” Wanda starts, hesitating slightly. She hears Kate moving around, probably busying herself with cleaning to release some anxiety over the situation. “I can just… text her and ask?”

“She gave you her number?” Kate’s voice is incredulous and bordering on hysterical. “The most elusive, most desired, hottest, eligible single woman in Seattle gave you her fucking number?”

“Um… yes.”

“Oh my god, Wanda. She’s totally into you, anybody can see it.”

“Kate, no,” Wanda protests, “She was just trying to be nice.”

As she says the words, Wanda knows that they’re false. Ms. Romanoff being nice? To some random girl who tripped through her multi-million dollar quartz doorway? Absolutely not. There had to be a reason why she was giving Wanda so much attention. Her heart stutters, filling with happiness at the thought.

“We can ask Vision to take the photos, he’d do just about anything for you.” Kate’s voice grounds her to the present moment.

Wanda feels her body shudder. She didn’t really have anything against the tall, nerdy blonde. He was nice, and in a few of her classes with her. But, he would always stand too close to her or would find any excuse he could to talk with her. His interest in her was noticeable and no matter how many times Wanda had hinted at her sexuality, he just didn’t seem to understand her disinterest in him.

Honestly, she was one creepy, lingering look away from making a giant banner with the words, ‘I’m a lesbian!’ painted across it in pink glitter.

Still, she had to admit that he was talented with a camera.

“Fine, I’ll call him. I think you should call Ms. Romanoff. After all, it’s your article.”

“No way, you’re the one she wants.”

Wanda blinked at that, letting the thought warm her for a moment. Then, she shook her head. “You’re being ridiculous, I barely know her.”

“Out of the two of us, you’re the one who’s met her. And you’re the one she’s purposely sought out, so you’re calling her. Don’t argue with me on this.” Kate’s voice is firm, the click of her hanging up the phone surprising Wanda.

Slipping her phone into her pocket, Wanda pulled out the business card Ms. Romanoff had given her. Her eyes traced over the curves of the woman’s name, memorizing the phone number on the back as she felt herself start to smile. God, she felt almost giddy. It felt like she was back in high school, with a crush on a cheerleader who’d smiled at her in the hallways.

“So, how do you know her?” Carol’s voice sounded out, her tone suggesting that she was attempting to be nonchalant. It wasn’t working very well.

Wanda jumped, her heart rate spiking as she guiltily slipped the business card back into her pocket. Turning, she saw Carol setting down a box before the woman turned to her with curious eyes. She didn’t have to ask who Carol was referring to.

“I had to interview her for Kate’s newspaper,” Wanda says, and her casual tone sounds just as forced as Carol’s. “She was sick so I went for her.”

“Impressive,” Carol muses, lingering in the doorway. “I can’t believe Natasha Romanoff was in my store. Valkyrie is going to be insanely jealous.”

She smiles widely at the thought, before seeming to remember where she was. “Listen, a few customers came in, so I could really use your help out there.”

“Right,” Wanda says, picking up her inventory clipboard. “I’ll be out soon, give me two minutes.”

She can practically feel the burning weight of Ms. Romanoff’s card in her pocket, and takes a deep breath. Maybe she can recite some poetry in her head to get rid of the ever-present replays of their meeting from earlier that day. Looking at the clock, Wanda despairs slightly.

Only three more hours of her shift, then she can go home and study without thinking about the redhead at all. Not even a little bit.

—

“Wanda, you know my style,” Vision’s voice crackles slightly over the speaker, a whining sort of quality to his tone. Kate rolls her eyes from where she’s listening in on the conversation. “I only shoot places, not people.”

“Oh my god dude,” Kate says, ripping the phone from Wanda’s hands. She gladly lets her roommate take control of the situation, her stomach churning with every word that Visions speaks. “If you don’t do this for us, the newspaper won’t cover the opening of your show. Do you understand now?”

There's a beat, a moment of silence that stretches too long to be comfortable. Vision speaks, “Fine. Send me the details once you have them and I’ll be there.”

“Awesome, we’ll see you tomorrow,” Kate says, and hangs up the phone before Vision can say anything else. “Your turn, call Ms. Romanoff.”

Wanda blinks, still processing the conversation with Vision.

“What, now?”

“Yes, now. If I don’t sit here with you, you’ll never call. I know what you’re like with making phone calls. I’ll even hold your hand if you want,” Kate says, reaching across the couch with exaggerated grabby hands as Wanda chuckles and slaps her fingers lightly.

Taking out the card, Wanda traces the familiar shape of Ms. Romanoff’s name before dialing the number from memory. It wasn’t that hard to remember, especially since she’d been repeating it subconsciously in her head for the past few hours. Her stomach twists, doing a funny sort of fluttery motion as the dial tone rings.

She answers on the second ring, her voice clipped and calm. It’s slightly raspy, and Wanda feels her chest grow warm.

“Romanoff.”

“Oh, um… Ms. Romanoff? This is Wanda. Uh, Maximoff. Wanda Maximoff. You gave me your card earlier?”

“That I did,” she says, and Wanda can hear the smile in her voice. “It’s good to hear from you, Ms. Maximoff.”

Her tone has changed, warmth flowing through the phone. She sounds pleased and almost surprised. Wanda is acutely aware of the way her face is slowly flushing with each low, raspy word Ms. Romanoff speaks. Kate watches, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Wanda’s pink cheeks.

Standing, Wanda waves her hands in Kate’s direction in an unspoken order to ‘fuck off’, before making her way towards the kitchen for some fresh air. They’d propped the window open earlier, and Wanda eagerly breathes in the smell of freshly fallen leaves as she scrambles for something to say.

“We found a photographer,” she blurts out, before smacking a hand against her forehead. “For the photoshoot tomorrow. That is, if you still want to do a photoshoot. I didn’t mean to assume. Does that work for you, ma’am?”

Wanda can feel herself cringe slightly as the words spew from her traitorous mouth.

“Ma’am? That’s new… I’m staying at the Hilton in town, does 9:30 work?” Ms. Romanoff asks, and Wanda can hear the amusement in each syllable. The woman’s slow smile practically seeps through the phone, and Wanda pushes down the giddy feeling erupting within her.

“Yes, of course,” she feigns nonchalance, her voice too high-pitched to be convincing. “We’ll see you then.”

“I look forward to it, Ms. Maximoff,” she says, and Wanda can visualize the way her dark green eyes are glinting. She envisions the corners of her mouth turning up into that secret smile she had given Wanda earlier, and shakes her head quickly, returning to the present moment.

“So do I,” Wanda manages to say, before she quickly hangs up the phone, practically slamming it down on the counter and staring at the screen like she’s expecting the circuits to light on fire.

“Wow,” Kate’s voice sounds out, her tone a slow drawl. “You’re totally blushing, dude. Admit it, you like her.”

Whirling around, Wanda opens her mouth to respond. She stutters, the words of denial fading quickly as she registers the way her heart is beating quickly and the excitement and butterflies building within her at the prospect of seeing Ms. Romanoff the next morning.

Well, fuck.

“Oh, come on. She has a million other things to worry about. She’s not focused on some college student who interviewed her. And it’s not a crush… I just find her intimidating.” Wanda can’t tell if she’s trying to convince Kate or herself, and based on the way her roommate raises her eyebrows, she’s not easily swayed.

“Sure,” Katre says, her gaze pointedly glancing towards Wanda’s reddening cheeks. “I’ll arrange the photoshoot and give my manager a call.”

“I’ll make us supper, how does spaghetti sound?” Wanda asks, jumping at the opportunity for a subject change. Kate agrees, her knowing gaze telling Wanda that she’s aware of her tactic, but thankfully her roommate drops the subject.

That night, Wanda dreams of cinnamon and dark red hair, the weight of warm fingers against her skin, and a raspy voice echoing around her. She wakes up twice, burying her head in the pillow as she scolds her overactive brain for thinking too much.

She just has to get through this photoshoot, then she can bury the thoughts of Natasha Romanoff somewhere deep inside her brain.

—

The Hilton stands out among the other buildings, the white-washed stone a beacon of wealth. Wanda tries her best to not raise her eyebrows too far, but Kate doesn’t seem to care as she cranes her neck to look up at the building. The boys in the back, Vision and Paul, seem interested as well, and Vision winces as Paul leans over him to press his face against the window.

“Damn, so she’s like really fucking rich, huh?” Paul asks, and Wanda internally scoffs.

She’d looked up Ms. Romanoff’s net worth the night before, her eyes wide and her ice cream forgotten and melting in her bowl as she stared at the numbers on her screen. She’d found herself in a rabbit hole of research, if that’s what you could call it. She mostly just looked up any information she could find about the woman, her public records limited and her photos mainly sourced from various exclusive interviews.

“Yeah,” Wanda muttered, “I guess so.”

Kate had managed to book a room in the Hilton, typically used for receptions. She’d struggled for a while, her call being transferred to various departments until she’d finally uttered the name Romanoff. After that, it was easy to book a room, free of charge.

When they arrive, a nervous, young-looking man guides them towards the room. Vision lags behind, carrying his camera and equipment. Wanda pays him no mind, aside from the occasional forced smile in his direction. He’d been trying to talk to her in the car and not-so-subtly imply that they should go out on a date, but luckily Kate and Paul had redirected the conversation to much safer topics.

The nervous man opens the doors to their rented room, Kate’s casual confidence shining as she directs Vision and Paul toward the back wall. They have about twenty minutes left to set up, and Wanda eagerly accepts Kate’s order to ask the hotel management for refreshments.

Setting up the finger sandwiches and water cups is easy, and Wanda finds herself relaxing at the monotonous act as she watches the minute hand on the clock creep closer to 9:30. She stiffens when the scent of cheap aftershave reaches her nose, Vision’s lanky frame filling her vision as he leans against the refreshment table.

“So, you went and interviewed this woman,” he says, leaning in. “Is it true that she’s really a lesbian?”

Furrowing her brows, Wanda opens her mouth to respond. To say.. something clever. Vision beats her to it, his eyes glancing down at her chest too many times to be a mistake. “I bet she hooks up with some really hot women, I wish I could photograph that instead.”

“Oh, maybe we shouldn’t talk about her private life-”

“Also, I was wondering…” Vision cuts her off before he straightens, his eyes glancing over Wanda’s shoulder.

Wanda senses Ms. Romanoff’s presence before she sees or hears the woman. She watches Kate’s eyes go wide, her eyes flicking over to her as excitement fills her features. Turning slowly, Wanda nearly chokes on her own saliva as she takes in the woman before her.

Ms. Romanoff is dressed in the most expensive-looking clothing Wanda has ever seen in person. Her cream-colored dress pants hug her in all the right places, and Wanda has to wrench her gaze upwards before she’s caught staring for too long. The white, silk shirt isn’t much better for her steadily-increasing inappropriate thoughts. Wanda blushes when Ms, Romanoff turns, the light catching her shirt just right to show the abdominal muscles flexing through the thin fabric.

Forcing her eyes further up, Wanda feels a shiver run through her at the look in Ms. Romanoff’s eyes. At first glance, her dark-green gaze looks to be impassive, cold even. But Wanda notices the way her eyes are slightly crinkled in the corners, a private smile meant only for her. The woman’s eyes darken slightly and flicker down towards Wanda’s outfit, lingering just a half-second too long at her chest. She doesn’t mind, Ms. Romanoff’s gaze is comforting rather than off-putting.

“Ms. Romanoff,” Kate says, and Wanda immediately feels the loss of her heady gaze on her. “So lovely to finally meet you, I’m Kate Bishop.”

She holds her hand out, and Ms. Romanoff shakes it. It seems firm, and Wanda finds herself wishing that she could feel the woman's soft skin against her own. She wonders if her handshake is firm, and looks down at the floor as a hot, jealous feeling arises within her as Kate starts directing the woman towards the backdrop Vision and Paul had set up.

Vision starts to say something, his fingers uselessly gesturing toward a spot against the backdrop. Ms. Romanoff ignores his stammering request, focusing on Kate as she directs the woman into position. Dark green eyes flicker towards Wanda, a sort of curiosity in them.

“Wanda,” she says, a single finger beckoning her closer. “What do you think?”

“Oh, um. About the poses?” Wanda asks, the woman’s hot gaze trapping her in place. She feels her feet start moving towards the backdrop, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she feels her heart begin to race.

“Yes,” Ms. Romanoff replies, tilting her head thoughtfully. “You're the only one here who's spoken to me before. So, you know me best. What pose do you think would capture me?”

Wanda blinks, her mind blanking. She remembers the way Ms. Romanoff had leaned forward during her interview, her forearms exposed from her rolled-up sleeves as she regarded Wanda with intent eyes.

“Roll up your sleeves,” Wanda says without thinking, feeling a flush rise to her cheeks at Ms. Romanoff’s amused, raised eyebrow. Kate glances back at her, a slightly proud smirk playing out on her lips before she turns back towards the CEO.

Maintaining eye contact, Ms. Romanoff slowly unbuttons her sleeves, rolling them up with precision that speaks to years of practice. Her gaze is heavy, and Wanda feels the air around her grow hot as her heart rate picks up to a dangerous speed.

“Anything else?”

Goddammit. Ms. Romanoff’s voice is low, her slight rasp sending Wanda’s mind spiraling into an unknown, fuzzy headspace. She suddenly has the urge to step closer to the woman, needing to be in her space.

Oh, those hands. Those fucking hands. Wanda watches the woman finish rolling up her sleeves, those hands resting casually over her knees with her fingers curled slightly. There are gold bracelets and fingers decorating the woman’s wrists and fingers, and Wanda has a sudden vision of Ms. Romanoff slowly taking all of her jewelry off. She’s well aware of the other three people in the room, one of them her roommate and the other a boy who is borderline obsessed with her. She doesn’t really care. Not when Ms. Romanoff’s attention is fully on her.

“Lean forward,” Wanda says, biting her bottom lip. Green eyes track the movement, darkening slightly. “Lean on your elbows and look at the camera through your eyebrows. Then slowly tilt your head up until you’re looking dead set at the camera. Give us the barest hint of a smile.”

She turns to Vision, her eyes lighting up in excitement as he starts fiddling with the setting on his camera. “Make sure you get plenty of pictures as she’s slowly tilting her head up. This way, we get plenty of different expressions and angles.”

Vision nods, smiling at her. Wanda shudders, his blinding teeth throwing her off.

Looking back at Ms. Romanoff, Wanda takes in the woman’s furrowed brows as those captivating green eyes glance between her and Vision. She suddenly has the urge to distance herself further from Vision, and steps closer to Kate.

“Perfect,” Kate says, clapping her hands once. Wanda fights the urge to jerk at the abrupt sound. Paul startles, dropping one of the finger sandwiches.

Vision takes several photographs, the click of the shutter sounding out as Wanda watches the woman intently. Ms. Romanoff seems to slip into a role, her expression professional and practiced as she assumes many different poses, her forearms exposed artfully in each one.

The photoshoot is over before Wanda has fully processed seeing Ms. Romanoff, her mind replaying the closeness of the woman when she visited her store. The sight of those eyes is burned into her brain, the dark green color ingraining itself into Wanda’s memory. The faint scent of cinnamon wafts near her, and she feels lightheaded with need.

Honestly, what the fuck is wrong with her.

“Ms. Maximoff.” The words are commanding, and Wanda focuses. Ms. Romanoff is standing, her eyes focused on Wanda. “Will you walk with me?”

“Of course,” Wanda murmurs, ignoring the look and subtle thumbs up that Kate sends her.

Walking quickly, Ms, Romanoff pulls the door open smoothly and holds it open for her. Her eyes are intent on Wanda, her hand just barely brushing her waist as she slides past her through the open door.

The silence isn’t overwhelming, instead, it’s rather comfortable. Wanda is well aware of the woman beside her and fights the urge to look over at the way Ms. Romanoff’s hair curls gently over her shoulders.

“Would you join me for coffee?”

“What, now?” The words are out of Wanda’s mouth before she can think, and she blushes at Ms. Romanoff’s amused glance.

“Yes, Ms. Maximoff. Now. I’ve been recommended a coffee shop just down the road.”

Wanda blinks. Is this… a date? Is Ms. Romanoff really asking her out? On a date?

“Yes,” Ms. Romanoff says, drawing out the syllables. “This would be a date.”

Fuck. Wanda hadn’t realized that she’d said that part out loud. She almost says yes. God, she wants to, but she’d forgotten one crucial detail.

“I have to drive everyone back.”

“Hmm,” Ms, Romanoff doesn’t look pleased. She turns to the side and waves a hand sharply at a man standing nearby. He’s dressed in a sharp suit and snaps to attention. “Taylor, can you drive the photographer, the assistant, and Ms. Bishop home?”

“Of course Ma’am.”

Wanda feels her eyebrows steadily rising in disbelief as the man steps into the room they’d just left. Of course, Ms. Romanoff had a personal driver. She probably had a chef and a housemaid and a… Wanda stopped that train of thought before she could think about it too hard.

“So,” Ms. Romanoff murmurs, turning a corner and stopping at a window. There’s a nice view of their small college town, and Wanda turns to look at it. Anything is better than meeting those piercing, heavy, green eyes. “Are you available for coffee?”

“Why do I have the feeling that you won’t let me say no?”

“Oh darling, you can always say no. But that’s your decision to make.”

Wanda glances down, picking at her fingernail to avoid the heavy gaze locked on her. Something about Ms. Romanoff just makes her want to agree with everything the woman says, and the arm muscles flexing through her silky fabric isn’t helping Wanda stay focused. She takes a breath and looks back up, “So this is a date?”

“Do you want it to be a date?” Ms. Romanoff’s head is tilted slightly, her expression giving nothing away. Wanda feels her heart skip a beat. Her tongue feels too heavy in her mouth, and she feels herself choking on air as she begins to stammer out nonsense words.

“I- well. I’m- I don’t know, I-”

“I would like for this to be a date,” Ms. Romanoff cuts her off smoothly, the corners of her lips quirking upwards.

“Well,” Wanda mutters, feeling her face flushing even further as Ms. Romanoff’s smile widens. “I’d like that too.”

“Perfect,” she says, and Wanda wonders if she’s standing closer than before. She can practically feel the older woman’s body heat against her own, and that faint scent of familiar cinnamon wafts beneath her nose. She breathes deeply.

“I’ll have Nick bring the car around. You should tell your friends that you’re unavailable for the rest of the morning.” Ms. Romanoff’s words are low and murmured against Wanda’s ear. She hopes that the woman doesn’t catch the full-body shiver that cascades down her spine, or the goosebumps rising quickly on her neck.

Wanda nods at her, eyes flickering between Ms. Romanoff’s dark green irises briefly before she turns her gaze past her towards Kate. The older woman’s hand twitches, her fingers brushing lightly against Wanda’s waist as she steps around her. A full shudder threatens to run through Wanda’s already overactive nervous system, and she suppresses it with sheer will. Her roommate is in the middle of giving Vision and Paul instructions but turns towards Wanda with a raised eyebrow when she begins walking over.

How the fuck is she supposed to explain a last-minute date with the country’s hottest, richest, and most eligible bachelorette?

Next Chapter

---

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callsign-mayhem · 2 months ago

Text

sundress

Part one of my Heartbreak Feels So Good sequel series!

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female!Reader Word count: 3.1k CW: Use of Y/N

Find the original series here!

It's been a week since you and Bradley confessed your feelings to each other on the beach. After an impromptu first date, Bradley takes you to a new Italian place on the seafront to wine and dine you like a true gentleman.

Natasha Trace was rarely wrong.

You stood in front of your full-length mirror, admiring your reflection—not just looking at it, but admiring it.

You weren’t a vain person. It simply wasn’t in your nature. But something about this yellow dress—the one you were going to wear for Jake’s leaving drinks—made you feel confident. It had been so long since you’d felt this way that you’d almost forgotten what it was like. Maybe the dress had magical powers, or maybe yellow was just your colour. Either way, you were relieved to feel like someone worthy of dinner and drinks with Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw. Nothing was worse than going on a date and feeling like you were punching above your weight.

You had Nat to thank for this. She’d warned you off of wearing it for Jake’s leaving drinks the Friday before because she thought it better saved for a more special occasion. The white dress had walked so this one could run, and now there was no reason to stress about finding an outfit on the day of your first date.

If you wanted to get technical, it was your second date with Bradley, but he didn’t class last Friday night as a date. You did, though. You were highly sentimental, and that night was more special to you because it was silly and spontaneous. Bradley thought it ungentlemanly, but it felt like something from a romance novel to you.

After your confession and makeout session on the beach, you’d practically begged him to take you out for food since he wanted to do things properly. As a man of his word, you knew he wouldn’t budge, wouldn’t go home with you unless he’d had a meal with you first. As a way of cheating his system, you’d convinced him to take you to In-N-Out, and he’d agreed as long as you promised you’d do things by the book the following week.

So he’d ordered an Uber, and when you arrived at the restaurant, you ordered more food than should have been allowed. You picked a booth in the window, and the two of you sat there until most of the food was gone, and you were both relatively sober. Bradley’s phone was dead, but the Daggers had been blowing yours up for two hours until you eventually had to answer. Neither of you wanted to reveal that you were technically on a date. Something about keeping it between the two of you made it feel more special and less pressurised, so you made up a lie and said Bradley had been sick and you’d taken him home before heading back to your apartment. You'd promised Jake you’d see him off Sunday morning and promptly turned your phone off.

After that, you’d sat in the booth talking until closing time, enjoying getting to know each other all over again. Because you’d sobered up, neither of you wanted to rush each other into bed anymore. You liked the idea of taking things slow, savouring every little moment, and doing things as Bradley had initially wanted. But neither of you regretted your impromptu first date.

Your phone pinged on your bedside, and you almost tripped over your feet in your haste to get to it. It was Bradley letting you know that he was leaving his and would be with you shortly. You were simply too excited to wait, so you grabbed your bag and hurried out the door.

It was a gorgeous evening, typical of San Diego. Sunlight cascaded down through the trees surrounding your apartment block, creating intricate patterns on the pavement. Birds circled lackadaisically above, in no hurry to get to any particular destination. A group of teens whizzed down the road on brightly coloured rollerskates, laughing carelessly. It was crazy to think you weren’t sure about settling here initially. Now, you couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

Bradley Bradshaw definitely had something to do with that.

You heard the Bronco before you saw it. The low rumble of its engine was exciting and comforting, as was the man driving it. You could see him grinning as he pulled in, cheeks flushed from the heat of the evening. Before you could hurry over and open the passenger side door, he jumped out of the car to do it for you. He admired your sundress, shamelessly wolf-whistling as you walked over.

‘You look dazzling, Y/N.’ He said by way of greeting.

When you reached him, you stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He wore tan dress pants, a brown belt, and a crisp blue shirt. The first three buttons had been left undone, teasing the top of his Herculean chest. He’d rolled his sleeves up also, revealing his deliciously veiny forearms.

Bradley Bradshaw was a well-wrapped gift, especially for you.

‘Thank you,’ you replied. ‘So do you.’

He grinned. ‘Our server’s gonna have to wear sunglasses.’

You laughed delightedly. ‘And everyone else in the restaurant, if you keep smiling like that.’

He helped you into the Bronco, buckling your seatbelt like he did the day of your breakup. It was a terrible day, but he’d made it better, as was his superpower.

During your drive to the restaurant, the two of you sang along to 80s classics—Karma Chameleon by Culture Club and Foriegner’s I Wanna Know What Love Is. Bradley made you feel comfortable enough that you weren’t embarrassed by your singing voice despite his sounding angelic. You were too overjoyed to be self-conscious, a clear signpost to Bradley being the one for you. With Elijah, you were always hyperaware of the way you came across. You overthought your appearance, the words you said, and even the tone of voice you said them in. And it wasn’t just because you wanted to control how he perceived you—it was because you had to be careful not to make him angry.

Where being with Elijah exhausted you, being with Bradley breathed new life into your mind, body and soul.

You arrived at the restaurant floating on cloud nine. He’d chosen a new Italian place right on the seafront. The interior was tasteful, and the views from the deck out back were worth dying for. As your server (who wasn’t wearing sunglasses yet) seated you, you silently hoped the menu was as well-cultivated as the place itself. You had the best seat right on the edge of the deck overlooking the ocean. Paired with your devilishly handsome date, it was already the perfect night, so if the food did end up being shit, you wouldn’t be too upset about it.

‘Can I get you guys started with some drinks?’ The server asked with a smile.

‘Two Peronis with lime, please.’ Bradley responded, flashing her his movie star smile.

She disappeared to get your drinks, leaving the two of you alone.

Bradley reached for your hand over the table, rubbing circles over your palm.

‘So,’ he said. ‘Our first date.’

‘Our first date was last week.’ You quipped.

He smiled fondly, shaking his head. ‘That wasn’t a date.’

‘It was, and it was the best first date ever. I’ll die on this hill.’

‘Okay, fine, our first civilised date.’

Your drinks arrived, and you both busied yourself with the menu. You’d skipped lunch to ensure you had room for dinner tonight, and your stomach growled audibly.

‘I’m going for the cannelloni.’ Bradley announced.

‘I think I’m gonna get a pizza.’ You replied. ‘Shall we get garlic bread for the table?’

‘Is that even a question?’

After ordering your food, you chatted about work and your friends. You already knew each other’s histories—family and otherwise—on a friend level, at least. You were still discovering topics you’d never broached and details left out from stories already told. It was exciting getting to know one another again, not nerve-wracking at all. You didn’t feel like a fish out of water as you had with Elijah.

The food arrived and was just as delicious as you’d hoped, if not more so. You ordered a glass of red wine and Bradley another Peroni. Since he was driving you home, you didn’t intend to drink any more. The waitress brought your drinks over, blocking your view of the double doors leading into the restaurant. You completely missed another server seating Penny and Maverick a few tables over. They spotted you before you were even aware of their presence.

‘Is that Lieutenant Y/LN?’ Pete whispered. ‘With Bradley?’

Penny glanced at the two of you, eyebrow raised. ‘It is. They look like they’re on a date.’

Pete blinked in shock. ‘He didn’t tell me he was dating Y/N. He didn’t tell me he was dating anyone.’

‘He doesn’t have to tell you everything, honey.’

‘I know, but this is big.’

He had to admit, it was hurtful to find out something like this in such a manner. He and Bradley had only been getting closer since they arrived home from the mission that had ultimately saved their relationship. Pete would have thought he might have mentioned that he was seeing someone, especially since it was a Lieutenant under his command.

‘From what I’ve heard, she’s only just gotten out of a relationship, which would mean that whatever’s going on between them is quite new.’ Penny pointed out, ever the voice of reason. ‘Maybe they’re not ready to share just yet.’

‘Maybe.’ Pete replied, frowning deeply. ‘Should we go over there?’

‘No.’ Penny hissed. ‘Did you listen to a word I just said? If they wanted us to know, they’d have told us. I’m sure the last thing they need is us ambushing them on what looks to be their first date.’

‘So we just sit here and pretend we haven’t seen them?’

‘Yes.’

You and Bradley were unaware of the conversation happening not ten feet away. You were too wrapped up in one another and the food in front of you to pay any mind to your surroundings, which was probably for the best. You’d agreed to keep things private for now, and it was working out quite well so far. Not having your friends involved alleviated some pressure to figure out precisely what was happening between you and where it was going; you could set the pace without any interference or judgement. Not to mention the thrill the two of you got from sneaking around and keeping such a massive secret from the rest of the Daggers.

‘Are we ordering dessert?’ Bradley asked once you were finished with your meals.

‘Is that even a question?’ You mimicked with a grin.

‘Touché.’

You stood up. ‘I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Order for me?’

Bradley took the opportunity to admire your full form again. ‘What would you like?’

You refrained from saying 'you.' ‘Surprise me.’

You waltzed off to the bathroom—with a bit of extra sway of your hips for Bradley’s benefit. You couldn’t believe how well tonight was going. During your tumultuous relationship with Elijah, you’d promised yourself that if things didn’t work out between you, you would never date again. Why would you want to when it had proved to be such a monumental waste of time? But then Bradley had swooped in, and now you could reflect upon how wrong you’d been. There was a reason things hadn’t worked out between you and Elijah, and it wasn’t just because he was a massive twat. It was because you were never supposed to settle with him. Maybe it was too soon to say, but you wanted to believe that you weren’t supposed to settle with him because you were supposed to settle with Bradley.

You exited the bathroom—which was just as showy as the restaurant itself—and headed back onto the deck. The later it got, the more people had arrived, and now only a few tables were free. You were wondering whether to text Natasha and ask if she wanted to come here for cocktails next weekend when you locked eyes with Captain Mitchell. He quickly glanced down at his dinner, clearly hoping you hadn’t clocked that it was him, and you hurried back to your table.

‘Hey, sweet thing. I ordered you-’

‘Mav is here.’ You panicked, sliding back into your seat.

‘What?’ Bradley started looking around.

‘On a date with Penny. Three tables to the right, just behind that lady with the big hair.’

Bradley leaned back so he could see past the big hair in question. ‘Well, shit.’

‘Guess the cat’s out of the bag.’

‘I’m gonna talk to him,’ Bradley announced. ‘Tell him not to say anything to the rest of the squad.’

‘Do you think he would?’

‘Not to be a gossip, but he might mention it thinking everyone else already knows.’

You nodded. ‘That makes sense.’

He leaned down and kissed your cheek. ‘I’ll be right back.’

Bradley couldn’t believe it. Of all the nights Mav could’ve taken Penny on a date, he chose tonight. At this very restaurant, no less. When they saw Bradley approaching their table, they were surprised to see him. If Bradley weren’t so good at reading between the lines, he’d have believed they had no idea he’d been sitting three tables away from them.

‘Bradley!’ Penny gushed. ‘You look handsome.’

‘Thank you, Pen.’ He smiled. ‘You look lovely as always.’

Maverick stood up, took Bradley’s hand, and hugged him. The short kind—the bro kind—involved a slap on the back.

‘Nice to see you.’ Mav said.

‘I saw you this morning.’ Bradley pointed out.

‘Is that Lieutenant Y/LN?’ Maverick asked coyly, glancing at you sitting alone. ‘I didn’t know the two of you were dating. Why didn’t you tell me?’

Penny glared at Mav, making Bradley think they’d discussed Maverick not saying exactly what he’d just said.

‘We haven’t told anyone yet. This is our first date, and we kinda just wanna keep it on the down low for now.’

The look Penny shot Mav this time said: I told you so.

‘Y/N just got out of a pretty shitty relationship, so we’re taking things slow.’

Bradley didn’t know why he was telling Mav all this. He was rambling, trying to hide the awkwardness of the situation.

‘Well, your secret’s safe with me.’ Mav assured him.

Bradley relaxed. ‘Thanks, Mav.’

‘You got a good one there, Rooster.’ Penny said. ‘Take care of her.’

‘I will, Pen. You don’t have to worry about that.’

They said their goodbyes, and Bradley headed back to you. The dessert had arrived: a large slice of tiramisu to share. You had been waiting patiently for him to return before digging in, a shiny silver spoon already in hand.

‘He’s not going to say anything.’ Bradley said, sliding back into his seat.

‘Whew. That’s a relief.’

He nodded. ‘But I think he was upset that I didn’t tell him about us.’

You frowned. ‘Did you tell him that we aren’t ready to go public? That this is-’

‘New? Yes.’ Bradley finished.

‘Maybe we could do a double date soon?’ You proposed. ‘It might help make Mav feel a little more included, and it’d be good to get to know him better since you’re so close.’

Bradley brightened at the suggestion. ‘You’d do that?’

‘Of course I would.’ You replied earnestly. ‘And I’m not just suggesting it to make him feel better. I actually think it sounds nice.’

‘You’re amazing, you know that?’

‘Yes, I do.’ You smirked, digging into the tasty-looking tiramisu.

Bradley refused to let you pay half of dinner. You vowed to make him let you pay for something sometime soon, even though you knew it would be difficult. He was a true gentleman through and through.

You spent the whole drive back to your apartment wondering whether to invite Bradley to come up with you and what it would mean if you did. You didn’t even know what you’d be insinuating if you did invite him up, let alone how he’d take it. Were you ready to sleep with him? Was he ready for that? By the time he pulled into your lot, you were steadily developing a stress headache.

He parked the Bronco right in front of the doors leading into your foyer, so you wouldn’t have to walk that far.

He reached the centre console and took your hand, and you turned to face him.

‘Since we’re doing this properly,’ he started. ‘I’m not coming up with you.’

You looked down, blush creeping across your cheeks. Had he been reading your mind? In the moment of silence that followed Bradley’s declaration, your brain tried to ruin the fantastic night you’d had with self-deprecating thoughts. Briefly, your thoughts wandered back to the second half of your relationship with Elijah and how little sex you’d had, the fact that when you did have sex, it was always about him. It never even crossed his mind to go down on you, and you had to hope you finished before him because once he was done, it was always game over.

Bradley put a finger on your chin, tilting your head up so he could see your face.

‘What’s wrong, sweetness?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Where’d you go just then?’ He pressed.

‘If you don’t want to be with me like that, it’s okay.’ You told him honestly.

His expression went from shock to anger and then hurt in the space of two seconds.

‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘I don’t know.’ You murmured.

You tried to look away, but he kept his fingers on your chin, forcing you to look at him.

‘Listen to me. I want to be with you more than anything.’ He told you truthfully. ‘But I think we should go slow. I want to make sure we take things at the right pace.’

‘There’s no rushing something you want to last forever.’ You repeated from that night on the beach.

‘Exactly that.’

You leaned over and kissed him slowly and sweetly in the spirit of not rushing things. There was no urgency, just passion. Now he’d reassured you, you knew he was right. You weren’t ready to take the next step yet, and savouring the build-up was good. For all you knew, all these first times with Bradley might be your last.

‘I’ll walk you to the door.’ Bradley mumbled against your lips.

‘Are you sure you’re going to be able to resist coming up?’

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, you thought he might change his mind about not spending the night. ‘I can wait. You’re worth it.’ He said. ‘But one of these days, I want you to wear that sundress for me again.’

‘Why?’ You whispered.

‘Because I think it’s going to look so good on my bedroom floor.’

A/N: I've finally gotten around to writing the first part of my sequel series to Heartbreak Feels So Good. This one's short and sweet, but I'll be writing some longer parts as the series goes on. If anyone has any suggestions or requests for moments they'd like to see in future parts, please let me know! Also, let me know if you'd like to be removed/added to the taglist for this series.

Taglist:

@crowdedimagines

@sadgirlgiselle

@sleepy-writersblock

@lovelyygirl8

@my-therapist-hates-me

@primroseluna

@eloquentdreamer

@sgt-barnesveins

@daybleedsintonightfa11

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