#and that I was reminded of when Black Widow came out

[atlasthegreatest]

Breaking the Chains / Natasha Romanoff x Brother!Male Reader

Which, the Avengers embark on a mission to dismantle a sinister facility—a male version of the Red Room, designed to turn young men into weapons. Natasha Romanoff leads the charge, determined to save her younger brother— Y/n, who has been trapped in this program for years.

Word count: 2191

Warnings: PTSD. Red Room.

A/n: This was requested by an anon. I hope you like it!

The facility was crumbling around them, fire and dust mixing into the heavy air. The sounds of gunfire and explosions echoed in the background, but Natasha Romanoff’s focus was singular. Her feet moved with purpose as she scanned the darkened hallway. She knew what to look for—the same signs she once wore on her face and carried in her posture.

In this mission, the Avengers were not after weapons or secrets. They were after people—boys who had been subjected to something eerily familiar to Natasha. A male counterpart to the Red Room, hidden deep in the underbelly of the world. They had lived in the shadows for years, unnoticed, until an intercepted transmission tipped the Avengers off to the existence of this twisted program.

She pushed through the shattered remnants of a metal door and stepped into a cold, dimly lit cell block. A dozen pairs of frightened eyes met hers, boys barely in their teens and men no older than twenty-five.

Natasha scanned each face until she found the one she had been looking for: Y/n.

He sat huddled in the far corner of the cell, knees drawn to his chest, body folded in on itself as if trying to disappear into the cracked concrete wall behind him. His clothes hung loosely from his thin frame, and his hands trembled as they gripped his knees.

“Hey,” Natasha whispered, kneeling in front of him.

At first, Y/n didn’t respond. The years of training had taught him to suppress everything—fear, trust, and hope. But when he finally lifted his gaze, recognition flickered in his eyes. Y/n knew her, though not personally. She had been the ghost story among the instructors. The Black Widow—traitor to the cause, the one who escaped.

“I’ve got you,” Natasha said gently, her gloved hand hovering over Y/n's but not touching, waiting for him to make the first move. “We’re getting you out of here.”

Y/n flinched slightly at the sound of her voice but didn’t pull away when she rested a hand lightly on his arm. Her touch was steady—grounding.

“It’s over,” she said, her voice low and sure, like an unbreakable promise. “No more orders. No more missions.”

Y/n's lips parted, but no words came out. It was hard to believe it was real after everything. Freedom was a foreign concept, a dream too fragile to trust. But Natasha didn’t rush him. She crouched there, keeping her voice steady and calm as the chaos raged behind her.

“I know it’s scary,” she admitted. “But you’re not alone anymore. I’m here, and so are the others.”

When he didn’t resist, Natasha helped him to his feet. Y/n was shaky, each step slow, as if his body had forgotten what it was like to move without orders directing his every action. Natasha kept a careful hold on her arm—not tight, just enough to remind him she was there.

Together, they made their way through the collapsing facility, the flickering lights casting erratic shadows on the walls. Outside, the Avengers had cleared the area, and a Quinjet waited, its ramp lowered. Steve Rogers gave a tight nod to Natasha as she guided Y/n aboard, but the others knew better than to approach.

Natasha’s expression warned them all: Give him space.

————————-

The Avengers’ compound was vast, bright, and open—everything the cold, sterile facility had not been. But for Y/n, it was too much. Too big, too noisy, too unfamiliar.

Y/n rarely left the room they had set up for him, and when he did, it was always with Natasha at his side. The others tried to welcome him gently—Bruce offered books, Steve always nodded with quiet reassurance, and even Tony kept his quips subdued. But it was Natasha who knew how to reach him, because she had been where he was.

She didn’t push. When the others asked too many questions, Natasha would step in, redirecting the conversation with a subtle ease. She became Y/n's anchor, a quiet, constant presence that didn’t demand anything from him.

At night, when the nightmares came—and they always did—Natasha was there. The first time Y/n woke up gasping, covered in cold sweat, he thought she might be angry at being disturbed. But instead, she sat on the edge of his bed, her voice calm and low.

“Breathe,” she whispered. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

When Y/n couldn’t sleep, she stayed up with him. Some nights, she talked about her own past, sharing bits and pieces she thought he might understand. Other nights, the two of them sat in silence, watching the night bleed into dawn.

She never asked him to talk about what happened—not until Y/n was ready.

————————-

It was weeks before Y/n said more than a few words at a time. The trauma ran deep, and trust was a hard-earned currency. But Natasha noticed the small changes. The way he started sitting with the others in the common room, though he always kept a little distance. The way his gaze softened when Sam told a joke or when Clint teased him about beating him at chess.

One afternoon, while sitting with Natasha on the balcony, Y/n surprised himself by speaking.

“They made us fight each other,” He said quietly, his voice brittle and uneven. “If you won, you got food. If you lost… you didn’t.”

Natasha didn’t flinch. She just nodded, her gaze steady. “I know.”

“They told us it made us stronger,” he added, bitterness creeping into his tone. “Made us perfect.”

Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line. “They were wrong.”

For a moment, Y/n looked out over the horizon, the sky painted in hues of gold and pink. He felt the weight of her words settle in his chest—not just the words, but the way she said them, with the conviction of someone who knew exactly what he’d been through.

“You’re not what they made you,” Natasha said softly. “You’re more than that.”

Y/n swallowed hard, emotions swelling in his throat, but for the first time in years, he didn’t feel the need to shove them down. Natasha’s presence was a reminder that he didn’t have to carry everything alone.

————————-

Day by day, the Avengers helped Y/n find pieces of himself that he thought had been lost forever. Steve taught him how to cook—simple things, like pancakes and scrambled eggs. Sam dragged him into a movie marathon, making Y/n laugh for the first time in what felt like forever.

And Natasha? Natasha stayed by his side through all of it, giving him the space to heal at his own pace.

One evening, after a quiet dinner with the team, Y/n found yourself sitting beside Natasha on the couch, Clint sprawled out on the floor in front of them.

“See?” Natasha said, nudging Y/n's shoulder lightly. “They’re not so bad.”

Y/n gave a small, tentative smile. It felt strange on his face, but not unwelcome.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice soft but genuine. “They’re not.”

Natasha smiled too—gentle, patient, and proud. And for the first time in a long time, Y/n felt like maybe, just maybe, he belonged.

————————-

The Avengers became a rhythm—steady, sometimes chaotic, but reliable. Y/n was still learning how to navigate the whirl of personalities and noise, but Natasha was always a steady guide. She seemed to know exactly when to push and when to pull back, letting him stumble without ever letting him fall.

The nightmares didn’t stop, but Y/n got better at managing them. On nights when the darkness crept too close, he didn’t feel ashamed to knock softly on Natasha’s door. Sometimes, the two of them talked. Other times, Y/n sat quietly on the floor beside her bed until sleep returned. It didn’t matter—Natasha was patient, always patient.

But adjusting to life with the Avengers was harder than it looked from the outside. Even though they gave him space, their camaraderie felt foreign. Trusting them—really trusting them—was an uphill battle, but Natasha reassured him that it was okay to take his time.

“You don’t have to be anyone other than yourself,” she had said. “They’ll wait.”

————————-

It was Sam who cracked Y/n's defenses first, though it took him weeks of gentle persistence. He had a way of being both laid-back and direct, not giving him much room to overthink. One afternoon, Y/n found himself sitting across from him at the compound’s kitchen island, awkwardly holding a controller as he taught Y/n how to play some old-school racing game.

“Don’t worry,” Sam grinned. “I’ll go easy on you.”

He didn’t. Y/n lost every race, but he didn’t mind. For once, losing didn’t come with consequences. Sam’s laugh was loud and infectious, and before Y/n realized it, he found himself chuckling along.

“See?” Sam said, nudging his shoulder lightly. “You’ve got a sense of humor in there somewhere.”

It was a small moment, but it was the first time Y/n’d felt… normal.

————————-

Training sessions with Steve Rogers were a different kind of therapy. He never barked orders or pushed Y/n beyond his limits. Instead, he treated each session like a lesson in self-control—teaching him to use his skills in ways that didn’t make him feel like a weapon.

“Strength is more than just force,” Steve would say. “It’s about knowing when not to fight.”

At first, it was hard to fight the reflex to be perfect, to push through every ache and bruise just to meet some invisible standard. But Steve never expected perfection. If Y/n faltered, he’d just nod and say, “Good. Now let’s try that again.”

One day, after a sparring match, Y/n hesitated as Steve packed up the training mats. “Thanks,” he muttered, the word feeling foreign but genuine.

Steve gave him that easy, reassuring smile of his. “Anytime.”

————————-

It was during one of Tony’s infamous pizza nights that Y/n realized how far he’d come. The team gathered in the common room, laughing and teasing each other over slices of greasy pepperoni. Y/n sat between Natasha and Clint, feeling oddly at ease even though he hadn’t said much all night.

At some point, Tony tried to rope him into a debate about who the best James Bond was. Y/n blinked, unsure if he was joking or not.

“C’mon, kid,” Tony said, grinning. “Tell me you’ve got an opinion on this. You have to.”

Before he could answer, Natasha smirked. “He’s still deciding if he likes any of us, Stark. Don’t scare him off with your movie rants.”

The team burst out laughing, and to Y/n's surprise, he found himself grinning too. Not because he had to, but because it felt right.

Natasha glanced at her brother from the corner of her eye, her expression soft and knowing. She didn’t say anything, but her small smile told him she was proud—and she realized he was too.

Bonus chapter:

Not every day was easy. Some mornings, the weight of the past dragged Y/n down like lead in his chest. Y/n still flinched at unexpected noises. Some nights, the nightmares left him breathless and paralyzed. But with Natasha, it didn’t feel like he had to face it alone.

One particularly bad night, Y/n couldn’t keep it all bottled up anymore. It was late—well past midnight—when the panic took over. Y/n found himself in Natasha’s room, pacing back and forth as he tried to control his breathing.

“They made us hurt each other,” he whispered, the words tumbling out faster than he could stop them. “Every day, every mission. If you hesitated, they punished you. They—”

Y/n's voice cracked, and he clenched his fists, furious at himself for breaking down. But Natasha didn’t look at Y/n with pity. She stepped closer, her hand resting lightly on his arm.

“They wanted you to believe it was the only way,” Natasha said softly. “But it’s not.”

The anger, the shame, the guilt—it all poured out in a rush, and Natasha let him feel every bit of it without judgment. When Y/n finally sank to the floor, exhausted and drained, she sat beside him.

“You’re not what they made you,” she repeated gently. “And you’re not alone.”

————————-

Months passed, and slowly, Y/n found himself carving out a place among the Avengers. It wasn’t perfect—he still had hard days, and some wounds ran too deep to ever fully heal. But he was learning that it was okay to not be okay all the time.

Natasha stayed close, always ready to catch him if he stumbled. But she also gave him room to grow. Y/n started spending more time with the others—training with Steve, playing video games with Sam, and even laughing at Tony’s terrible jokes. They weren’t just teammates anymore. They were friends.

And one day, as the team gathered for another chaotic dinner, Y/n realized something that hit him harder than any punch he’d ever taken: he wasn’t just surviving. He was living.

The thought was strange, almost surreal, but when Natasha met his gaze across the table and gave him a subtle, knowing nod, Y/n knew it was real.

He was home.

Any grammar mistakes will be fixed later

[peachesofteal]

Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader

You're early.

Your little knock on the door sends him into a spiral of panic, brain splitting in half, trying to figure out if he can hide his mortifying failure from you and still save dinner.

You knock again.

"Hey, sorry, I know we're early but-" You peel off with a sniff, nose wrinkling slightly, lips tucking together. You're wearing a lip stick, or a lip gloss, or something? And your hair is done. "Is something burning?"

"No!" He blurts. "No, uh. I'm just... cooking. Come in, come in."

He did actually, burn dinner. He burnt it so bad he had to order delivery, Thai on the fly, much to your excitement, and he files the knowledge of one of your favorite foods away for the future. The two of you eat together, little bits and pieces being given to Emmaline from your finger, and by the time you're finished, he's nearly worked up the nerve to start talking.

"So..." your voice trails, awkwardly, and you glance at him before looking away, finding a spot on the wall to study. Here goes nothing.

"I ah, wanted to explain, my behavior... from the other night." He starts, rubbing the nape of his neck. You watch him expectantly, Emmaline on your lap, and when he falters, you give him an encouraging nod.

"I'm listening."

"How I reacted, how I spoke to you was... unfair. It was cruel and I never want to make you upset, like that." You nod. "What I do- my job- it's... it can be dangerous. Stressful. Our last mission was difficult and I... operate in a different headspace at work. It's what keeps me alive. Makes me good at what I do." Skip the killing part, LT, Soap's voice reminds him, and he pushes on. "I was still decompressing, when you came to the door and I didn't want you to see me... like that."

"With your war paint." You quip, and he pauses, head cocked. "You had black stuff, around your eyes?"

"Yes, with my war paint. I didn't want you to..." He loses it for a second, flailing in the wind, mind scrambling as he tries to put the words together. Just say it. Tell the truth. "I didn't want you to be afraid of me. I don't think I could stand it. It's no excuse but, I guess, I thought you deserved an explanation."

"You're right." You say slowly. "It's not an excuse." You sigh, twirling a fork through the last of your noodles. "I'm not mad at you, not anymore. I just... it's hard you know. To put yourself out there, when you're a single mom. And a widow. I thought, maybe... you didn't-"

"I do." He cuts you off. "I... you and Emmaline, you're the best things that have happened in a long time. I-"

"Oh my god!" you gasp, and he instinctually startles, muscles going stiff as he surveys the flat.

"What?"

"It's snowing! Sorry, just uh..." You're already standing, hand half reaching towards him, excited smile on your face. "Emmaline's never seen snow before, can we... this is her first winter." You explain, and then move towards the balcony, fidgeting with his door lock, huffing in frustration when you can't figure it out.

"I got it." He says, not mentioning that it's custom, and slides it free, pushing the door wide so you can go outside. You're vibrating with joy, smile wide and big, and even Emmaline feels it, watching her mum, little face lit up the same as yours.

"Look, baby. Look!" You point, and then cup your palm, letting fat white flakes fall into your hand, tilting to show Emma, and she cackles with excitement, pudgy hand slapping against yours, bringing the melting snow to her mouth. You laugh with her, staring back up at the sky before glancing over to where he stands in the doorway, enraptured. The snow is caught in your hair, on your nose, in your eyelashes, the same as the baby, both of you glowing on his fucking balcony like angels on earth, sent to him from someone up there who might love him.

"Thanks, mum." he whispers to himself, to her, ducking inside to grab the blanket from the couch so he can wrap the two of you up in it to keep you at least a little warm and protected from the elements. "I wish you could have met them."

When he reappears, you're still catching flakes, this time with your tongue, hardly paying attention until he's settling the blanket on your shoulders and stepping back to watch, content to try to memorize every single second.

"Come here." You call, extending a hand, wiggling your fingers. "Try to catch one on your tongue." But he can't move.... he's too stunned, standing there before you, staring, and it gives you pause. "Simon." You whisper, head tipped back. The balcony lamp reflects in your eyes, snowflakes and yellow shine glowing back at him, the entire world lit up inside them, and his hand finds your cheek, cupping it with his bare palm, thumb stroking across the velvet that is your skin.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. So, so sorry." His voice sounds thick, fractured, and you smile, leaning into him, Emmaline's warm weight between your bodies.

"I know... I... I understand now." You look away, for a second, taking a deep breath before blinking rapidly, tears just barely there on your waterline. "I can't... losing Emma's dad, before she was even born I- I can't... I don't want to go through anything like that again, Simon. I'm scared." It's a confession, horrifying and real, terrified and heartbreaking. All he can do is tell you the truth. Tell you what he feels. What he knows.

"You don't have to be scared." He murmurs, low and soft, other hand coming to gently support Emmaline's back. "Not with me. I promise you." What is he doing, what is he doing, what is he- what is he promising? To live forever? To never hurt you? To never let either of you be hurt? To claw his way back to you, even in death?

He looks down at you, at Emma, and the world freezes. He sees everything so clearly, the image of his future, of yours- a little house with a yard, another baby. Emmaline a big sister, so proud and excited. All of you tucked away somewhere secret and safe.

He takes a deep breath, exhale crystalizing in the air, water vapor falling like a halo around you, and his confession comes unbidden, so easily given to you. "I want to kiss you."

"Okay." You answer, and then he moves, closing the gap, slowly pressing his lips to the warmth of yours, blood pooling beneath his skin, heat flowing between your bodies. You taste like heaven, mouth sweet and easy for him, parting with a tiny gasp, and it overpowers him to the point where he thinks his knees might give out. He can't help but hold your closer, arm tightening around your back, finger stroking down the length of your spine-

Emma cries. It's not really a cry, more like a little shout, and you pull away abruptly, giggly expression on your face.

"What's wrong baby girl." He hums, patting her back, tucking the blanket tighter around your arm and her body.

"I think she's upset she's going to have to share you. You're her favorite nowadays, you know." You tease, and his grin is so heavy on his face, but so light at the same time, something completely foreign and wild, the breadth of happiness something he hasn't felt in so many years. "And she's probably cold."

"Should we go inside?" He motions, somewhat relieved to get both of you out of the cold, and when you nod, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, squeezing gently.

"We should."

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Request: R was sent to take Natasha out but Natasha TAKE her instead iykyk, pls daddy kink and like Natasha saying, "What would Fury think when you went back to him full of my children?"

THANK YOU SAUR MUCH

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 (𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟑) - 𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, DUB-CON, Dom!Nat, Sub!reader, daddy kink, breeding, belly bulge, slight size kink, slut shaming

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: You were send uncover in a strip club to take her out and she takes you instead.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 | 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞

You knew that it was a bad idea from the start, trying to take out the black widow was like signing your own death weaver. Until you realized this was a hound dog hunt, and you were the rabbit. You wouldn’t let that happen, let her chase you around until you could lead her to the set up. Natasha could smell trouble from afar, she knew they had found her safe house in Budapest long before you arrived there. 

Natasha, now, made her money through shady hit man jobs she got while operating in the Hungarian underground. While you were an undercover dancer at one of the clubs she frequented. The job was easy enough to get her in a private room lap dance a bit and sprinkle some poison in her drink. 

She sat at the bar looking down her glass of scotch in her hand as she waited for work like so often, this work was dirty but she kept telling herself with every man killed she cleansed a city of its dirty, even though she was just as much a part. 

When one of the bouncers came up to her she could feel something was off especially when she was told some had paid for a private dance for her.  One of her old bosses, because she did such great work. She was suspicious but it wasn’t unusual for clients of her to treat her with minerals to win her favor. 

When she closed the door behind she was met with the almost cozy atmosphere of the room. With a leather couch and the small stage she was reminded again what business was. She took a seat on the smooth leather awaiting your arrival until she noticed a fine detail missing to most eyes. There was a needle puncture at the seal of the champagne bottle, this was gonna be fun. 

When you made your way over to her to pop the champagne bottle. “Do you like champagne?” You asked with faux innocence, filling a flute “I prefer something stronger” She watched every one of your moves carefully “You don’t drink?” you shook your head “No not at the job” She handed you the glass but she declined. “But it on the table sweetheart, I want the dance first”

She led back on the couch patting her thigh as she expected you to come over now. You tried to look as confident as possible but you knew that this could blow up any second now. As soon as you sat down on her lap she got a hold of your hair pulling on it harshly.. “You’re one of Furys aren’t you” She mocked clearly enjoying her power. 

“N- no” she tugged at your hair “Do you take me as stupid? Don’t lie to me slut… was the champagne messed with too?” Tears were about to spill from your eyes of humiliation from the older woman. “He sent me, t- the champagne is a trap, I’m sorry” She scoffed her hands remaining in your hair. “Well then show me how fucking sorry you are” 

She threw you on your back tearing away at the skimpy clothes you were wearing. “damn, you look so pretty like that” You whimpered, feeling her hands grope your tits, pushing them together. “Do you like that baby?” She mocked planting sloppy kisses on your lips and face. She licked up your neck. “Y- yes” You whined, she was addicting. You shouldn’t feel that way. It was sick and wrong, you should have pushed her away but you couldn’t. 

She kissed over your breasts, taking one of her nipples into her mouth. With her teeth she tucked on your nipples forcing the sweetest moans from your lips. The stimulation was too much as you squirmed under her touch. She moved onto the next side taking a bite into your soft skin. After a while she got bored of playing with your breasts moving one of her hands to her belt to unbuckle it. She pushed her pants and boxer to her mid thigh to reveal her hard cock, standing at attention. 

She gave herself a few pumps before she positioned herself in between her legs. "You're gonna take daddy like a good girl isn’t that right?” She forcefully held your leg open with one hand as she pushed the tip inside your tight hole “Yes daddy” You cried feeling the stretch of her thick cock. You had never taken someone of her size. 

She groaned as she bottomed you out, and you could swear to feel her on your cervix. She admired the belly bulge she was at fault of, a smirk played on her lips as you tried to calm her breasts as best as possible. When her hips started to move, you couldn’t stop the sounds coming out of your mouth. “You feel so good daddy” You moan, giving Nat another ego boost. “Yeah baby? You’re made to be my cock sleeve” 

You nodded desperately, feeling your walls fluttering around her dick. You were milking her as she hit your g- spot again and again. “I’m gonna breed this little pussy full” She spa, her words barely registered in your head but it felt so right to you right now. The black widow had caught you in her web like you had feared, but you couldn’t complain "What would Fury think when you went back to him full of my children?" She asked her hips snapping with a brutal force 

You clamped down around her being so close to the edge you could see stars already “Fuck come with me” She groaned shooting white strips of cum deep inside your womb. After a short while she pulled out, breathless she fingered the cum back inside still lost to  the trance of your body. She gave your pussy one last slap before pulling, making you squeal, her pants back up. “Next time try to kill me in a hotel room not this filthy club, then we can have more rounds” You chuckled your arms clung around your body. She noticed how she had ripped your top, She thought a second before she hung her blazer over her shoulder “Till next time” “Till next time hopefully”

:)

@jolyssereed

[mapis-putellas]

Emotional support bunny

Pairing: Nat x you

Words: 1362

Warnings: none

Summary: you gift a stuffed bunny to Natasha on your one year anniversary. She adores it, names it, and promptly sleeps with it every single night. Well, that was until disaster strikes and bunny goes missing.

Notes: It’s been months. I have no explanation other than I’ve had some major writers block. I am, so sorry. And I hope this makes up for it.

It was on your one year anniversary that you’d gifted it to her. A small, grey bunny adorned in a cute black t-shirt with the phrase, this is my emotional support bear written on the front. It was meant as a joke. At least, that’s how you intended it to be at first. She was Natasha Romanoff. The black widow. Why would the black widow want anything to do it’s something so childish?

But surprisingly, she’d been delighted, and she’d quickly given it a name. Tiny. Tiny the bunny. For the first few days, tiny had sat on her dresser next to a photograph of you and her together. Natasha would give it soft smile and fond touch as she passes, and that was that.

But then, tiny would appear in your bed. Just during that day at first, propped up against the pillows when neither of you were there. But then one night, after returning home from a mission with Yelena and Clint, you noticed tiny was neither on her dresser or propped up against the pillows.

Upon closer inspection, as you’d crawled into the bed next to her, you realised that the reason tiny wasn’t in either of his usual spaces was because he was held clutched to Natasha’s chest. Your heart immediately melts at the sight, and after pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, you’d laid down and pulled her close to your chest before too drifting off to sleep.

From that moment forward -with the occasional exception of course ;) - tiny was in your bed every single night. Sometimes Natasha cuddled him, and sometimes you would because Natasha liked him to smell of you. Natasha had never been too settled when it came to sleep. Insomnia, nightmares. You helped of course, but there was something about tiny that would settle her immediately. You guessed it had something to do with healing her inner child.

Tiny would soon start coming on missions too. Of course he remained safely hidden in her bag, out of sight and out of mind from everyone else, but knowing he was there often helped. A reminder of sorts that she always had a piece of you with her no matter where she went.

Everything was great. Until it wasn’t.

You see, Natasha had misplaced tiny before. Whether it be he’d slipped out of bed during one of her restless nights of sleep or he’d fallen to the bottom of her bag after forgetting he was there and unpacking everything but him. But she’d never completely lost him before. Or well, she hadn’t until now. And her reaction to losing him wasn’t anything like you expected.

You’d walked into the bedroom to see her clad in nothing but a shirt and underwear determinedly ripping the blankets off of your shared bed. The rest of the room was a mess too, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you pocket your phone and make your way over to her.

“Nat?” You question, reaching out to touch her arm.

She startles at the touch as she whips herself round to face you, and you hold up your arms to show her you meant no harm as you take a small step backwards. “Baby, what’s going on?” You slowly lower your arms as you sit on the now bare mattress and give the shirt burying her small frame a gentle tug, coaxing her closer.

She steps in between your open legs, and you wrap one of your arms just beneath her rear end as the other one comes up to brush a messy strand of hair out of her face. Her eyes, you realise now, are bloodshot, bottom lip quivering as if she was doing everything possible to stop herself from crying.

You frown in concern as you give her thigh a gentle tug, coaxing it over your lap and against your hip. She complies, and you wrap an arm around her waist to keep her supported as she brings the other leg up so she was effectively straddling your lap.

She burrows her face into your neck, and your heart breaks when you feel hot tears beginning to stain your neck. “What’s going on my love?” You murmur, bringing one hand up to settle on the back of her neck.

Natasha shakes her head with a soft sniffle, and you frown as you give her a soft squeeze, not really understanding why she didn’t want to confide to you but happy to sit here and hold her for as long as she needed. It takes a while, but she does eventually sit herself up in your arms. Your arms move from resting against her shoulder blades to just above her behind, fingers slipping beneath her oversized shirt and grazing across soft skin.

“I can’t find tiny.” She whispers, one of her hands rising to cling to the front of your shirt as her face scrunches up and another soft sob escapes her lips. Your heart breaks, your hand rising up the bare skin of her her back and coaxing her back to your chest. She seems to allow herself to cry freely now, her body trembling as she clutches fiercely to the back of your shirt.

Some may think this was an overreaction to losing a measly stuffed animal, and maybe they were right. But this wasn’t just any stuffed animal. It was her comfort. Her safe place. And whilst that may seem childish to some, for Natasha, someone who had denied herself the most simplest of comforts because she was under the impression she didn’t deserve them; someone who didn’t have any ounce of a childhood, tiny was her everything and you thanked god she trusted you enough to let down her walls and allow you to comfort her.

“Is he in your bag?” You question as you begin the motion of gently rocking her back and forth in your arms.

Natasha shakes her head. “N-no. I looked there.” She manages to choke out, and you nod in understanding as you look around the room to see if there were any spaces tiny could have hidden himself in. When you come up empty, you attempt to wrack your mind for any more ideas.

“You looked under the bed?”

Natasha nods again as she sits herself up in your arms, hands rising to roughly wipe away the tears. You shake your head slightly as you gently knock her hands away, replacing them with your own and tenderly wiping off her cheeks.

You’re about to suggest looking elsewhere in the house for the beloved bunny until a familiar fluffy hand appears in your peripheral vision. You gently pat Natasha’s back to get her attention, waiting for her teary eyes to meet your own before pointing to the corner the room where a pile of clean laundry sat in its basket.

“Did you by chance change our bedding today?” You ask, rising to your feet before easing her down onto her own. Natasha doesn’t acknowledge your question as she all but sprints to the corner of the room, knocking that large pile of laundry to the floor in her haste to grab tiny from here he was hidden at the bottom of it before clutching him to her chest.

She lets out a quiet breath of relief, and you realise, as you make your way over to her and tug her into a hug, that she must have tossed him out of the way whilst changing your sheets this morning and had forgotten to put him back. Natasha’s arms rise to settle around your neck, tiny clutched in her hand, and you immediately bend to lift her up into your arms. Her legs loop tightly around your waist, and you place a single arm beneath her behind whilst your hand rises to rest against her back.

“He was hiding from you.” You laugh slightly, and you feel the way Natasha smiles against the skin of your neck as she moves tiny to settle against her chest.

As you stand there, holding your favourite girl in your arms, you thank your lucky stars that you’d found him before disaster totally struck.

**

@goldenempyrean - finally got something written 😭 @alotofpockets @natashasnoodle @widowsistersandfriends @widowbitessting

[shslbunnylover]

Can I request a fic where Natasha romanoff and the reader are married for tax pourposes, and nat fogets she's married until someone starts talking about her wife that they met on a mission?

With mean nat, and some smut?

🥝

★ ★ ★ A much needed reminder ★ ★ ★

Character: Natasha Romanoff

Summary: After Natasha forgets about your marriage that was based on convenience, she realizes just how much she loves you.

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1

Trigger Warnings: NSFW, slight angst and mention of unrequited love, Daddy kink, choking kink, slight spanking, rough sex, mean(ish) Natasha, G!P Natasha (with condom), slight dacryphilia,

Genre: Smut

Author's Note: I've been revived!!

Word Count: 4.02k

Natasha Romanoff. Feared Avenger, skilled assassin, and your wife. Well...not so much the last part. Your relationship was mostly out of convenience, leaving you, who had fallen in love with Natasha a few months into your relationship, heartbroken and bitter against the world. You were literally married to this woman, yet she was nothing more than a stranger most nights.

The two of you had lived in the Avengers Tower for around a year when she brought the concept of a convenience-based marriage. She dragged you into a dark room, and you had honestly believed that you were about to meet death right then and there until she had dropped that bombshell.

"We need to get married," She had stated bluntly, looking down at you as you sat in the chair she had practically forced you into.

"Huh-? Natasha, what the hell??" You replied, looking up at the redhead as the slight slivers of light from the window illuminated her sharp green eyes as they stared down at you.

A few long moments pass, the only noise in the room being that of her and you breathing.

She sighed, just blinking for a minute before sitting down.

"Look, Y/N..." Natasha began, twirling a pen on her fingers, the ball point moving quickly as it spun around in her hand.

Your vision fell to the pen, then back up to the assassin.

"Out of every Avenger here, you're the one I'm most comfortable doing this with. This isn't anything romantic, but it's purely for our benefit," She explained, her hands placed on the table as she leaned in.

"Our benefit? How exactly?" You looked at her curiously, becoming intrigued by the offer against your better judgment.

"Tax benefits, credits to be specific. It would also be a way for you to ward off those annoying ass fans of yours," Natasha's head gestured to your left towards the only window (and light source) in the room that gave a view of the city below.

You sighed, you knew that last statement was true. As an Avenger, when you gained strength you would also have creepy and obsessed fans who would devote their life to you in some parasocial relationship. Being single didn't help that either, and with having The Black Widow holding your hand out in public acting as your wife, you knew the amount of obsessed fans (public ones at least) would decrease.

"You don't have to agree to this, but if you want it, meet me in my compound later," She'd said before leaving the room.

You sat in that room for a long while, debating your options.

But eventually you came to a conclusion.

"Natasha?" You knocked on the redhead's door, sighing as she opened the door. "We have a deal."

You barely managed to see the notoriously rude Avenger crack a small smile.

"Alright, we'll figure out the legal shit in the morning," Her smile dropped once again, before gently shutting the door.

The two of you were married in the courthouse after less than a week following the conversation in the room, leaving you married in the eyes of the general public and more importantly the government and tax office.

Nothing had really changed between you two in terms of your emotional connection. Sure the other Avengers would tease you about being married and would constantly compare the two of you to complete rocks when it came to the love in your marriage, but you didn't mind because you and her were only in this for convenience, it wasn't like you actually liked each other.

That last fact however, changed around a year into your "marriage".

You sat alone in the main lounge room in the tower, most of the others out on some minor missions, almost the entire crew excluding you and Natasha, who had been injured in a previous mission and was forced to stay at the compound. As her "spouse", the rest of the crew sacrificed you to stay with her under yet another one of their "funny" jokes against your arrangement. You didn't really mind being told to stay in the building though, it gave you a free day off.

Turned on in the background was some random reality TV show that consisted more of fake tears and drama then any actual real glimpse of human emotion, but it was still your vice nonetheless.

With your feet propped on the couch and a bowl of leftover Chinese food in your hands, you watched the show on the television with lazy eyes. You didn't have any real responsibilities at the moment, Natasha was way too stubborn to even think about letting you take care of her, no matter how "married" you may have been to the rest of the team.

About an hour passed when you heard the assassin's voice come out of the hallway in a groan.

"Ah shit-" She grimaced, walking down the hallway, her stubborn self still refusing any help, even in the form of leaning on the wall.

"Nat?" You paused the TV, placing your bowl of rice on the table before standing up to see what was going on behind you.

"What-?" She gritted her teeth, her bandaged leg faltering her steps and forcing the redhead to slow her pace.

"You know you were told to relax and call me if you needed anything," You sighed, looking your wife up and down in a disapproving manner.

"Y/N, I don't need your help," Natasha scoffed, ever the unwilling to receive assistance.

You let out yet another exhale, and you pulled her to the couch you were once sitting on.

"Yes you do, I'm taking care of this wound," You grabbed a first aid kit before kneeling in front of her to unwrap the old bandages.

You placed gauze on the wound, gentle against the assassin's skin so as to not aggravate the wound.

With gentle hands the assassin obviously wasn't used to, you finished cleaning up her leg, before gently placing Natasha's leg down.

You looked up when you heard her laugh.

"What?"

"You're just like a little housewife aren't you?" She smirked, looking down at you with a cocky expression.

Your eyes widened, and your heart felt as if it was both stopping and speeding up at the exact same time.

Your face broke out into a small blush, and you remained quiet, just darting your eyes away from the green eyes gleaming down at you with a mixture of mischief and teasing.

Fuck.

Later came one of Tony's infamous parties, you'd gotten all dressed up, wearing a small pink dress that highlighted your body, falling right above your knees.

Since the incident that revealed your feelings, you and Natasha didn't even talk, once again returning to strangers. You acted like the other didn't exist, despite feeling empty without the redhead around you. But you attempted to be away from Natasha as much as possible in an attempt to squish your feelings for the older woman.

You stood against the wall, chatting with an old friend who also happened to be a minor acquaintance of Tony's. Your eyes glanced over, and you found yourself staring at Natasha as she discussed...well...whatever she was discussing was some random thing you didn't seem to recall knowing. You assumed her to be another acquaintance of Tony's, most likely an employee or even a news reporter, though you decided on the former.

A small exhale escaped your lips before you turned back to your old friend.

"So, what's been up with you? It's been so long since I've seen you!" You smiled.

"Life's been so chaotic, Y/N, I tell you! But the chaos has honestly all been worth it. After all, I did gain a husband out of it!" They held up their hand, the medium sized diamond on their ring shining under the florescent light of the room.

You gasped.

"You got married??" You exclaimed excitedly.

They nodded.

"I tell you, I didn't see it coming, but married life has been amazing! The man I've loved for 7 years only seems that more special to me, and I didn't even know that was possible!"

In response, you took a sip of your drink, looking down at the hand that held the glass. You internally sighed at the lack of a ring on your finger, but you went back to a smile so as to not give away any sense of the heartbreak you were experiencing.

You were originally okay with the arrangement you shared with Natasha, because you never had feelings for the assassin and it wouldn't feel like you had everything you wanted but at the same time nothing you wanted.

But that changed.

You didn't understand where the feelings began, but now your life felt like an empty shell. On the outside, you were married to the one you loved. But on the inside, there was no love in your relationship.

It was all for convenience.

You two hadn't even come in the same car to this party, what made you think you were worthy of truly being married to the woman of your dreams.

Little did you know that Natasha had begun to match your feelings as well, but hid them as much as possible...

"So, Romanoff, what are you up to?" The man Natasha was talking to asked.

"What do you mean?" Natasha asked.

"Have you finally settled down and got yourself a partner?" He pushed her shoulder jokingly.

Natasha tilted her head, crossing her arms.

"No," She said genuinely, seemingly forgetting your entire existence.

"Really? Damn," He sighed with a laugh, adjusting his lean against the wall and smirking.

"What about you?" Natasha questioned out of obligation; she always hated these parties, especially when people she was barely acquainted with came up to her and asked about her personal life.

"I haven't gotten a partner yet...but, I met this cutie on a mission and I'm gonna ask them out," He replied, his smirk only increasing.

The redhead raised her eyebrows in curiosity.

"Really? Who?" She asked.

The man pointed his thumb to the side gesturing to you as you continued to talk with the old friend of yours.

"The one in the pink," He licked his lips.

The redhead looked around, before eventually finding who he was pointing at. When she saw it was you he was pointing at, a rush of anger coursed through every one of Natasha's veins, and she felt one of them sticking out of her forehead.

"They're married." Natasha spat, biting the inside of her cheek.

The man furrowed his eyebrows.

"Really? They don't have a wedding ring, and they never mentioned it," He looked over at you.

Natasha grit her teeth, clenching her fists.

"Yeah. They're married," She glared.

"Woah, okay!" The man laughed nervously. "What's got your panties in a twist?"

Natasha adjusted her lean, and she looked off to the side.

"I don't have anything in a twist, just giving you the truth," She tossed her braid over her shoulder.

The man gave her an awkward look, but eventually rolled his eyes.

"Alright Romanoff, whatever you say," He replied.

Hours passed and Natasha stood in the back silently, recollecting her feelings towards you and your marriage in general.

When that man mentioned you, she had felt guilt washing through her veins. She actually forgot about your marriage. Why did that make her upset though? She wasn't supposed to actually fall in love with you... She hadn't had a crush in years before she realized her feelings for you. She felt her heart beating faster than normal when she saw you, and she recently felt the need to actually be yours for the rest of your life.

Why did this have to be so confusing?

The end of the party finally came, and Natasha looked up to see you leaving.

It was now or never.

Natasha pushed herself off the wall, and she quickly followed you before grabbing your hand.

You snapped your head to find the redheaded assassin looking at you with an angry and jealous expression.

"Nat-?" You stuttered, feeling your legs go weak at your wife's dominant nature.

"Do you want to come home with me?" She practically growled. "Just answer yes or no."

You blushed, your eyes darting around the room and eventually locking with Natasha's green irises.

You didn't understand where any of this had come from, one moment you were walking home alone and now you were being held by the wrist by the woman of your dreams.

"Yes-" You blurted without thinking, your libido and heart acting before your brain could even process the situation.

Natasha gripped your hand, storming out towards her car faster than she thought her legs would carry her just to be with a person. She'd only moved this quickly to either carry out a mission or to train, never for a person she wanted to be with. No, the feared Black Widow never chased after anyone. But tonight that had changed.

She practically threw you into the passenger's seat of her car, buckling your seatbelt for you before making a beeline for her own spot in the car.

You sat there in shock as Natasha started the engine before pulling out of the parking lot.

"Natasha...what is this?" You asked, pressing your thighs together as a sense of arousal coursed through your body.

"Малышка...I'm in love with you. I can't stand this marriage not being anything more than tax benefits. I want you. I need you." Her hand found its way to your thigh, her palm and digits can eerily close to where you needed her most.

"Natasha..." You repeated her name like a prayer. "I need you too...I can't handle this. Since I took care of you that day, I needed you. Either to kiss my lips or fuck me senseless, I've needed you for too long,"

Natasha's grip on your thigh tightened, and a small moan escaped your lips as her digits snaked closer and closer to your achy and needy pussy.

"Keep talking like that, Ангел, and I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to utter anything but my name and your beautiful moans," The redhead kept one hand on the steering wheel, practically glaring at the road ahead.

"Maybe I want that..." Your hand overlaps the one on your thigh, and you move Natasha's hand to cup your heated sex, allowing a moan to escape both your lips and Natasha's.

"What are you comfortable with? I want you to enjoy this as much as I do," She said, her voice husky from her heightened libido.

"I want you to do whatever you want, I love anything minus ass stuff, choke me, spank me, do whatever, I just need you,"

The assassin rolled her head back.

"God damn it Ангел..." She groaned, and even in the darkness, you noticed a small bulge sticking out of her pants, *she was hard*.

You knew she had a cock, you'd heard her mention it during her discussion with you about her life in the red room. But God you didn't know it was that big.

"Nat...you're hard-" You blurted, as if you hadn't just said the most obvious thing in the world.

"I know, принцесса," Natasha maneuvered your hand to place it on her cock, her Russian accent bleeding through her words the more and more worked up she got. "Look what you do to me, моя маленькая шлюшка,"

Her husky and slightly strained voice only made your pussy all the more soaked, and you shuddered at the feeling of her rock hard cock under your palm and her clothes.

"I-I..." You faltered, unable to say anything at all as you kept your hand virtual glued to her cock.

"We're almost home, no one else will be there, so I wanna hear your moans get as loud as possible. I want to hear every noise your beautiful voice makes," Natasha groaned, rutting her hard cock against the palm of your hand.

"Yes Nat..." You whimpered, squirming in your seat while your achy pussy sat in its own arousal.

"Good girl," She breathed, finally pulling into the tower's parking lot before unbuckling you and scooping your body up into her arms as if you weighed no more than a feather to her.

She carried you to her room in the compound, throwing you onto her king sized bed that laid somewhat prominent in her bedroom.

"Natasha," You repeated her name for the umpteenth time that night, your brain seemingly already fried enough so that you couldn't say anything but her name despite her having barely even touched you. "Please...take me,"

The assassin unzipped her pants, allowing for her cock to finally be released from the constraints that left both of you frustrated.

You groaned at the sight of her dick as she pulled down her pants along with her underwear, leaving her with an obviously erect eight and a half inch cock in her hand.

She looked over at you, eventually leaning down and sliding off your dress with skilled fingers. The pink fabric was tossed on the floor alongside her bottom garments, leaving you in just your underwear.

"God you know...I've wanted this for so long, to feel like we were actually married. To feel like you're actually mine..." She smashed her lips into yours, her hand finding its way around your neck and squeezing just enough at the sides to make your pussy clench around nothing.

You moaned at the rough treatment your neck was enduring, and your legs remained shaky as Natasha positioned herself between them.

She left hickeys across the sensitive flesh on your neck, moans escaping you every time she released your skin from the grip of her lips.

"You know, I've had my hand stroking my cock for months, wondering how tight this little pussy would be just for me-" Natasha bit down on your neck, slapping your wet and achy pussy to emphasize your statement.

"Oh God-!" You cried out at the spanking on your sore cunt.

Natasha virtually ripped off your lacy white underwear, and followed along with your bra, releasing your tits from the cage that had been restricting her from the sight of your soft breasts for the whole night.

"Do you want this?" She asked, lifting her mouth up from your soft and supple skin that had been littered with blemishes to look straight in your eyes.

"Yes- I want this..." You shuddered under her touch, a small cry stuck in your throat that developed under the constant teasing.

"Y/N, are you sure?" The green-eyed woman looked at you, a sudden but very brief sense of kindness and care flooding over her otherwise angry and horny gaze.

"Yes- Please! Just don't tease any more-! Please Daddy!" You cried, the sinful noise finally escaping your throat as your head rolled back.

You paused right after the moan left your mouth, your eyes widening and your hand immediately slapping over your mouth.

"Oh God- Natasha I'm so-"

Natasha gripped at your throat.

"Don't. Apologize." She growled, pumping her cock with her hand to get it nice and ready for your little cunt. "But if you keep calling me that I will fuck that cunt until you're crying, or do you not want that?"

You looked up at her as she loomed over your body.

"No- I want that..." You panted, your chest slowly rising and falling as the air around you became hotter.

"Give me your safe word," Natasha demanded.

"Red," You replied, your arousal somehow increasing at the kindness your wife showed even in her most turned on state.

"Good girl," She purred, her lips pressing into yours once again, both literally and figuratively taking your breath away.

Natasha grabbed a condom off of her nightstand, ripping the foil and sliding the rubber around her thick and hardened cock.

"Daddy...God you're so big..." Your eyes fell to her cock.

"I know, принцecca," The assassin smirked, leaning down to blow softly on your pussy, the sudden cold chill sending shivers down your spine.

Your skin raised under the cold breath she let out between your thighs, and you gripped at her braid.

"Please- Daddy- Don't tease," You begged, your voice wavering under her denial.

She smirked, licking a single stripe up your wet slit. Natasha clicked her tongue a few times, and she cooed at you.

"Ohhh...I know Малышка, you just *need* Daddy's cock in you, don't you?" She smirked, looking up at you.

You nodded violently.

"Please Daddy! Please just fill me up! I'll be good, please just fill me up!" You cried, the feeling of her tongue on you making your body ache for more.

"Such a good girl, I love hearing you beg," Natasha kissed your lips softly before sliding her dick between your folds, rubbing your clit with her thumb.

You moaned at the feeling of her rubbing your clit, but your moan only became louder as she pushed herself inside of you, the tip of her dick rubbing right up against your G-spot.

"Fuck-! Daddy-!!" You moaned, gripping at the sheets below as her cock slipped in and out of your cunt.

You gripped at her hair, your fingers finding their way through her tightly braided locks.

Natasha grunted as she rutted in and out of your tight pussy.

“Damn it Малышка, I never thought you'd be this wet for me…you're beautiful…your hair spread out like this, your pretty pussy clenching around my cock…” She panted, slamming her hips into yours, the sounds of sex filling the environment around you.

Sweat drilled down your face, and your hands quickly made their way to the redhead’s shirt, unbuttoning it and pulling her bra off with the other fabric.

You leaned in, pulling her close as you kissed down her neck, the only thing interrupting your movements being the cries and moans that left your lips.

“Please, please. Oh God!” You groaned against her.

“I know slut, it feels good doesn't it? Doesn't it feel so good? Fucking christ-” Natasha moaned, her orgasm creeping up on her body as her movements got more and more erratic the closer she got to finishing.

“Daddy…I'm gonna come! Please! I'm gonna come! Please let me cum! I've been such a good girl for you! Please!!” You kissed her passionately, your fingers digging into her skin for any sense of support.

Natasha groaned.

“Me too, come with me принцecca,” Natasha gripped your throat, leaving somewhat visible handprints on your flesh. “Боже мой!! Черт возьми, принцесса! Ты мне нужен! Дерьмо! Ебать!!” She slammed her hips into you, her cum coating the inside of the condom as she finished.

“Fuck! Fuck! Daddy!!” You moaned simultaneously, your orgasm washing over you as you fell back into the bed.

Natasha groaned, barely holding herself up by her arms, just as exhausted as you.

The assassin slowly pulled out of you, kissing your forehead as you whimpered from the empty feeling in your pussy.

“C'mere beautiful,” She laid down next to you, sliding off her cum filled condom and throwing it in the trash before pulling you into her arms.

“…I love you, Natasha…” You muttered against her neck, burying yourself in her scent as your naked bodies intertwined.

Natasha smiled gently, running her hands through your messy hair, her fingers tangling in your locks.

“I love you too, Y/N,” She murmured into your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo and using it as a lifeline and a reminder that this truly was real.

“Can we try this marriage for real this time?” You looked up at her, your hand falling to hers and tangling your fingers together.

“Of course we can…I've been waiting to ask you that for so long now…” She laughed softly, kissing you softly on the lips.

You kissed her back, sharing the first of many kisses of your marriage, but this time the marriage was finally real and not just for convenience.

If you enjoyed reading this, don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Thank you and you are loved <3

[stayevildarling]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader- Always

A/N: got this idea based off a tiktok I watched last night. Basically very slow burn kinda love and Natasha being a bit of a stubborn meanie at the start.

Prompt: After a breakup, Natasha is even more miserable than usually, letting her anger out on everyone around her including you. What happens when you finally tell her how you have been feeling for years?

tags/tw: cursing, angst, meany nat, mention of violence, mention of blood, mention of gunshot, slight mention of smut at the end, mention of alcohol

word count: 4.5k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime, @p1pecleanerwitheyes

Thunder cracks through the sky loudly, lightening striking seconds later, as you make your way towards the gym, ready for another day at the Avengers compound. From afar you can already hear the grunting of some of your fellow team members and you can't help but smirk, assuming Natasha was beating their asses just like she usually would, whenever training the recruits or one of the OG Avengers as you called them would get on her nerves and provoke her, only in order to land on the floor seconds later, underestimating the Black Widow as always.

,,Back off Romanoff'' one of the recruits yells, catching your attention as you walk inside, watching the tight grip the redhead has on him, causing him to squirm and try to wiggle in order to escape her grasp.

Your eyes narrow, seeing her in her black uniform, her red hair flowing freely despite the braids. And you instantly feel the shift from her usual demeanour, that she seemed much colder today, much fiercer and more ruthless. Natasha was certainly badass, moody even, sometimes reminding you of an angry teenager. But having known her for years, long before the Avengers and everything that followed after, you knew how caring she truly was, how she would never hurt anyone intentionally other than if they deserved it. How she was the most loyal one on the team, willing to take her last breath for any of you at any given moment. How she always looked out for the team on missions, always putting them first and herself second.

And truth to be told, Natasha had been irritated lately, snapping more often, lashing out, her patience wearing thinner than usual. You had tried a few times to break through to her, given your friendship and how long you had known each other but she never faltered. Hearing from some of the guys her relationship wasn't going too well but never prying, wanting her to come to you whenever she was ready.

,,Give him a break Nat'' you chuckle, watching the younger recruit struggle still and the others watching both in awe and terrified at the same time, worrying they may be next.

,,What? you want a go?'' she questions, gesturing her head towards you and you can't help but shrug your shoulders, the invitation sounding tempting.

,,Sure go ahead Romanoff'' you tease, the young recruit finally escaping her and curling up behind some of the others. With a proud smirk, you approach her where she is standing, catching a glimpse of her green eyes and seeing both the anger and sadness in them, worrying what had happened, what had upset her in this way.

Before you can even react, her fists lands on your cheek, causing your jaw to throb and you know you should have seen that one coming, considering everything. You successfully dodge the next one, catching her leg with your hand that came flying towards you. It was a battle neither of you could win, the two of you growing up in the Red Room together, each of you made into their own spy and assassin. The same strength, the same tactics, the same mental willpower and capability to endure even the greatest of pains and torture.

Yet, Natasha was a little stronger always, her having taught you as soon as she joined SHIELD and eventually the Avengers, bringing you along as she knew you could be beneficial. ,,What's going on?'' you whisper as you lean in a little but before she responds, her right hook hits you again, causing you to see stars for a minute. Her arm quickly wraps around your neck, before she has you flying to the floor, the recruits watching both in anticipation and shock. ,,Class dismissed for today'' you manage to somehow mutter out and before Natasha can object, they are quick to leave, figuring Miss Romanoff was in no mood today, especially not either of them pissing her off the way they usually would.

It takes a minute for you to catch your breath and despite often training with Natasha and showing the recruits your skills, you had a hard time hurting her, knowing she got beaten up on missions plenty but not wanting her to ever hurt or be in pain. And so you always took it gentle, making sure to put on a show of course but never hurting her. And Nat had always been the same, barely ever hurting you in the process of this but today she was ruthless, not even herself, much more the Black Widow than her usual self, the sunshine with the brightest smile behind the mask of a badass assassin and Avenger.

,,Tasha what the fuck'' you plead, your eyes meeting her as you try to stabilise on your now shaky legs. ,,What's wrong?'' you try again but she ignores you, so lost in her thoughts that she hits you yet again and you wonder whether she was so lost in her thoughts right now, she may genuinely see you as an enemy or even a punching bag at the gym. In a swift motion you manage to send her to the floor this time, quickly stepping away and out of the ring before she could charge at you again. ,,Hey.. calm down'' you try again, throwing her a bottle of water that she catches as soon as she stands on her feet again. ,,What is going on with you?'' you try again, now actually worrying about her as you hadn't seen her like this before other than in the Red Room.

,,I'm fine Y/N'' she mutters before charging past you, ignoring your presence, the bleeding of your nose and the bruises that would surely form soon. You can't help but roll your eyes at her antics, grabbing some water yourself before leaving, cleaning yourself up before the mission later on today and the debriefing that was scheduled over lunch in two hours. You manage to fit in a quick shower and a nap before changing into your uniform, grabbing the necessary things you would need incase it would be overnight, despite it supposedly only taking a few hours but you never know being an Avenger and saving the world from the bad people out there.

As soon as you join the others they stare at you in confusion before you take a seat, Clint handing you a slice of pizza with a reassuring smile. ,,What the hell happened to you Y/LN?'' Tony remarks and you can't help but glance at Natasha who almost sits frozen at the other end of the table, avoiding your gaze as she had seen and realised the damage she had done as soon as you walked in. ,,Just training'' you chuckle, acting as if it was nothing but the others share knowing glances, already having heard from the recruits what had happened as they really couldn't keep anything to themselves.

,,Anyway this mission'' he carries on rambling and you can't help but shut out their voices, focusing solely on the woman sitting at the other end of the table. She had changed into her mission uniform, her hair in those beautiful braids again, her eyes looking the most beautiful shade of green despite the sadness in them and you still wonder what had happened.

Before you know it, you find yourself on the Quinjet as it speeds through the afternoon sky, Natasha of course insisting on controlling it and you simply stay in the back, strapping yourself in one of the seats and waiting to get to your mission area. It's when Clint takes a seat beside you that you snap out of your thoughts. ,,She's got one hell of a right hook'' he gestures towards your black eye and bruised nose and you can't help but chuckle. ,,She does'' you admit and he gives you that half proud half sad dad look that you both hated and adored about him. ,,Do you know what's going on with her?'' you whisper, not wanting her or the others to hear.

He pauses for a moment, always having been close to her and despite not trusting anyone else with this, he knew the two of you knew each other even better, even longer and knowing he can trust you with this. ,,They broke up'' he admits and your eyes widen, having heard about Natasha's relationship problems with her partner and occasionally even providing your shoulder for her to cry on, despite it more being her pacing around the room and muttering in angry Russian. ,,Oh I- I had no idea, what happened?'' you ask but he simply shrugs, this being all the information he managed to get from Natasha.

,,She's left a few weeks ago actually but it only seems to hit her harder these last few days'' he admits and you nod understandingly, finally putting the pieces together as Natasha couldn't stand the thought of losing someone, the thought of someone abandoning her as her lie had been filled with so much uncertainty and not a lot of predictability so far. In all honesty, you had never really liked Natasha's partner, only tolerating her but never really thinking they truly matched all that well but you had been supportive of course, even agreeing on double dates with random recruits and them in order to make your longest friend to date happy and the only person you truly count as family.

You take another glance at her, seeing the determination in her eyes as she lands the Quinjet with so much ease, getting you to your destination safe and sound. You nod at Clint thankfully, your eyes signalling him you would keep this information safe but grateful nevertheless as at least you know what she must be feeling now. As you carefully enter enemy grounds with the others, you go over the goal one more time.

One of Tony's and the Avengers enemies had abducted one of your recruits on one of their team's mission, needing both the person responsible and the recruit back safe and sound. Both you and Natasha are on duty to rescue the recruit, the others needing to find the guy Tony had been after for years, ideally hacking into his technology to make the whole thing a little easier for him and you in the future, as their weapons always turned up somewhere in the world causing some kind of chaos.

The silence between you and Natasha is heavy as you move silently towards the basement of this place, JARVIS directing you over your earpiece. Neither of you can talk, Natasha's guilt causing for her to be unable to speak and you both feeling upset and sorry for her, not knowing which words would be right. ,,This way'' she eventually gestures and with your guns aimed you push open a large old iron door, exposing the recruit, strapped into a seat, beaten and bruised but conscious. ,,Oh thank you so much'' he sighs in relief, as Natasha undoes the cuffs and you help him to his feet, checking for any severe injuries but not being able to find any. ,,Let's get you out of here'' you offer and he takes your hand as you lead him through the same corridor you and Natasha had entered through.

,,Incoming'' JARVIS informs you and you manage to push the recruit behind you, not wanting him to get injured further. Natasha is quick to take the first couple of them out before you step in, sending half of them flying across the basement, their weapons echoing loudly through the silent hideout. It's not until another wave of them comes in, when Natasha again loses her temper, fighting most of them off by herself despite you trying your best to fight them off alongside her. One of them draws his weapon right at her head, making both you and the recruit freeze.

,,Go on then shoot motherfucker'' she curses, her Russian accent thick as his gun is aimed right at her forehead. He cocks his gun but before he has any chances of doing anything, you fire your gun, causing him to drop to the floor. His blood sprays all over you, causing you to flinch a little, not from the encounter but from Natasha's ruthless behaviour. In silence, the two of you follow her back to the others, having informed them of your success, the others already having the guy Tony wanted tied up on the Quinjet and having all the necessary information that Tony required.

Clint flys the Quinjet this time, wanting to give Natasha a break and the two of you sit in complete silence, the other Avengers taking care of the recruit, tending to his cuts and bruises and making sure the other guy is still out cold, at least until they would arrive at the compound. ,,You alright there?'' Steve questions as he walks past you with a first aid kit, seeing the state of your face and your uniform. ,,All fine, not my blood'' you assure and he can't help but chuckle, giving you a comforting pat on the back before carrying on with what he was doing.

She doesn't speak and you so wish she would just say a single word, explain herself, her anger, let out the emotions she is clearly struggling with. You had never seen her so reckless before, despite knowing she probably wouldn't have let him shoot her, always having one of her Black Widow poses ready in order to drop him to the floor even with a gun pointed at her face and mere seconds to spare. She had never engaged like this before, let alone talk to any of the enemies she would beat and kick senseless. It had taken you off guard, seeing her so close to danger, the thought of something happening to her causing your whole body to tremble, to react quick, too quick perhaps as you never usually shot any targets on sight like this, mostly leaving them unconscious as the Avengers are many things but not ruthless killers. Usually, after a mission like this the recruits would wipe up the area, bringing everyone in and guiding them to the right authorities so that they could deal with them. The thought of someone's blood on your hands sends your memories right back to your time at the Red Room, how much you had killed, the innocence in their eyes before you did, despite your mind being controlled by them.

And you would easily kill for Natasha, having loved her from one of the first days of laying eyes upon her, never saying anything as you never wanted to ruin what you had. But lately you don't recognise the person sitting beside you in silence anymore. Eventually, you close your eyes, fully awake but wanting to calm your nerves down, knowing if you so much as opened your mouth your emotions would get the better off you, causing you to lash out at her and maybe say things you would regret afterwards.

The return to the compound is quick, debriefing even quicker, Tony happy with the results and the guys simply wanting to get showered and changed, ready for a night of pizza, video games and beers. Natasha storms off and despite your gut telling you to leave her be, you can't help but follow her. ,,Nat'' you try as you sprint down the hallway, and despite her acknowledging you, she continues storming into her room. You consider leaving her be but your heart aches seeing her like this and so you follow her to her room, the all too familiar room where until her relationship, you spent many nights in together, comforting each other, watching movies together and reminiscing about the old times together.

,,What Y/N?'' she snaps as the door shuts loudly behind you two. The redhead turns around, reaching one of the liquor bottles before pouring herself a drink, chugging it quicker than you can begin to speak.

,,Natasha what the hell is going on with you?'' you snap, your voice betraying you a little due to the slight quiver.

She sighs, pouring herself another drink before shrugging ,,Nothing, I'm fine''.

,,You're not fine Natasha'' you snap, your eyebrows darting in frustration and fists clenching to the extend of your knuckles turning white.

,,What makes you think I'm not fine?'' she snaps, now turning to you, her green eyes locking right onto yours and showing the annoyance in them and that all she wanted was for you to get out.

,,I remember what fine means remember?'' you blurt out and she suddenly seems caught, as if only now remembering who is standing in front of her and what the two of you had been through together. Knowing fine was a statement the two of you used when in reality your worlds are falling apart, either the memories of the Red Room causing you to break, an especially tough mission or something else on each other's mind, meaning your hearts were on the verge of breaking. A statement where the two of you knew the meaning, that either a hug, a drink or a training session was in order to blow off some steam.

,,You have been acting out for days, you beat a recruit senseless, let alone me or what happened earlier, you do realise you could have gotten killed right?'' you snap, remembering her foolish actions from the mission hours ago.

,,Don't be ridiculous Y/N'' she scoffs, and you are unsure which bit of what you said she actually meant but it didn't matter because none of what you are feeling seems ridiculous to you.

For a moment you stay silent as you take another step towards the redhead, despite the anger you are feeling your heart swelling with how ethereal she looks in this moment. ,,Tasha'' you try pleading with her, hoping you could somehow break through her walls that you had managed to break down in the past many times. ,,I heard what happened, I'm so sorry'' you whisper.

Her eyes meet yours for a moment, the vulnerability, the sadness in them evident before it's replaced with the same coldness, anger and harshness from moments ago. ,,It's fine, I don't care'' she spits before pouring herself another drink and you can't help but roll your eyes. ,,It's not fine, you almost got yourself killed earlier'' you push again, still unable to believe she wasn't taking any of this serious.

,,I know you are hurting, I know you loved her and I'm so sorry but this isn't the way.. we can do anything, you can beat me up again or we can get ice cream and watch a silly movie, anything but not like this please'' you try reasoning with her and again she pauses before her eyes avert yours.

She takes a few steps towards the window, overlooking the compound, the trees and the rain in the distance before she sighs. ,,I haven't been happy for a while'' she admits and you almost sigh in relief at the honesty in her statement and that her walls are slowly beginning to crack a little.

,,I don't think she really loved me but at least she treated me like I'm somebody'' she carries on and for some reason something within you snaps then. Yes- you had encouraged her to be open and honest, to help her through this but you couldn't believe the person standing in front of you right now. This wasn't the Natasha who broke you both out of the Red Room. Who became a badass assassin and spy before becoming rich and famous and an Avenger. This wasn't the Natasha who held you on a tough night, who told you to fuck all the people that had hurt you and went sure to avenge every single one of them for you when you couldn't. This wasn't the Natasha who taught you to believe in yourself, to trust yourself, to only allow what's best for you. To only let people in who genuinely care about and love you. This version of her, bitter, scared and small wasn't like her and you wonder what happened, what you had missed for it to have become this bad.

,,Yeah but would she have loved you if you were nobody?'' you question, causing for her to turn around abruptly before walking over to you, banging her fists on the table separating you two.

,,Nobody loved me when I was nobody Y/N! no one'' she shouts, her emotions washing over her and causing her anger to again lash out at the person least deserving it, you.

,,I did'' you scream back, completely losing yourself in the moment. Unsure what triggered this but deep down you knew it was the mission, how easily she could have gotten hurt, how selfish and foolish she had been pulling a stunt in front of you like that. And despite you never having voiced your emotions and feelings for her this openly before, in this moment you don't care.

Her mouth stands agape as she stares into your eyes, blinking repeatedly as to make sure she had heard you correctly. ,,Before you became an Avenger and long before your relationship'' your voice breaks now, tears spilling down your cheeks as you are unable to believe how stupid you have been for so long. You had walked to the ends of this world for her, joining SHIELD and the Avengers despite wanting a quiet life after the Red Room. Going on missions, risking your life every single day for her, not wanting her to be on her own, not wanting her to suffer alone. And yet, all she had done was treat you miserably.

,,To me you were a somebody, you were everything'' you cry now, letting the tears flow freely. Suddenly it hurts, your heart, your past all catching up with you. Your face and the bruises from her hurting even more than before, the image of you shooting the guard earlier, replaying in your mind, the gunshot echoing in your brain.

Natasha remains speechless, she moves closer, her mouth still agape as her eyes travel from your mouth to your eyes over and over again, the guilt, the emotions, everything suddenly catching up with the redhead. ,,Y/N I-'' before she can speak, you leave, storming out the room before you can think about it any further, knowing it was a matter of seconds before you would break down and you know one thing for sure, you didn't want her to see this and so with steps as quick as light you abandon her, letting her stand frozen in her spot, your words repeating in her mind over and over again as you steal away to your safe place.

It's about two hours later when Natasha finds you, not needing JARVIS or any of the other guys telling her where she could find you as she knew your safe space. She takes the elevator all the way to the top floor, climbing one of the ladders in order to reach the rooftop. She finds you sitting by the edge, your feet dangling freely, a bottle of liquor beside you. ,,Y/N?'' she tries in order not to startle you and you are surprised by how sober she sounds, considering you assumed she drowned herself in alcohol after your confrontation before.

Silently, she takes a seat beside you and glances over to you, seeing your tear stained red cheeks and her heart breaks at the sight, taking in the bruises that she had left on you both physically and emotionally and she hates herself for ever causing you any pain as you all of people never deserved that. Without a second thought, she reaches for the liquor bottle, taking a rather large sip before passing it to you, your eyes meeting for a mere second before you follow her lead and drown your pain away. The two of you sit in silence for what feels like an eternity, watching the stars and listening to the quiet sounds of the world.

It's a little later when she notices your shivering state and without thinking she takes off her jacket, placing it over your shoulders but you flinch. ,,I don't need your pitty Nat'' you snap, feeling more upset with her than ever before.

,,I don't pitty you Y/N, I'm so sorry'' she whispers, the vulnerability evident in her green orbs. Your eyes meet hers, seeing the genuine remorse in them and you instantly feel bad for your earlier outburst, as you never wanted to tell her any of it like that.

,,You were right, I've been reckless and so damn stupid'' she curses, her accent again thick as she moves a little closer to you, your shoulders now touching, the scent of her jacket lingering and making you feel warmer instantly.

,,I'm so sorry for hurting you'' she whispers, a tear flowing down her cheek but you are quick to catch it with your thumb before it manages to fall. She smiles bitterly, leaning into your touch a little before you retract your cold hand.

,,I know and I'm sorry for before, I just hate seeing you in pain'' you whisper, your eyes again meeting and locking this time. ,,I know I've made a fool off myself and I'm happy to leave in the morning if you need me to'' you admit, biting your lip due to your nerves and your heart beating out of your chest.

,,Leave? why would I ever want that?'' she asks, the shock written across her beautiful but sad features. You remain silent and it takes a minute for the confusion to turn into understanding as your statement finally makes sense to her and her heart aches at the thought.

,,I've made a fool off myself Tasha, I should have been there for you, yet I confessed my feelings to you like some idiot'' you mutter, averting her gaze again as the embarrassment catches up with you.

She pauses before her thumb reaches your chin, moving it to the side a little so your eyes meet again. ,,You're not an idiot Y/N..'' she admits quietly. ,,I have been the idiot for not seeing this, for not telling you myself'' she admits and now you are the confused one, not understanding what she is implying.

She picks it up, ever the perceptive one before she lays her emotions out right in front of you. ,,The reason we didn't work and we argued everyday is because of you Y/N'' she admits and your eyes widen at her statement.

,,Me?'' you ask dumfounded before she nods. ,,Because I love you too and I have for so long'' she whispers, now the raw and real Natasha back where you had lost her a while ago.

,,Tasha.. please don't'' you whisper ,,Don't do this to make me feel better'' you plead, knowing how she cared about everyone else more than herself and never wanting her to say these things to make you happy.

,,I'm not.. I have loved you for as long as I can remember but I pushed those feelings down because I never thought you'd see me this way'' she admits, some more tears rolling down her cheeks, as she remembers the countless arguments and jealousy of her ex partner and how that ultimately ruined the relationship she never truly wanted to commit to in the first place as her thoughts always had been consumed with you.

,,Tasha I became a spy for you, I became a god damn Avenger for you, I wanted to settle down'' you scoff, unable to believe she had been this much of an idiot for so long, as this whole thing could have been avoided.

,,I know.. I- I'm sorry'' she admits, knowing your reasons for doing all of those things and how the reason had always been her and how she knew it every second of every day and how it killed her.

There is a long pause, as the two of you continue staring into the night sky, processing the words and admissions exchanged. Natasha feeling nothing but guilt for her previous actions and not speaking up sooner and you feeling utterly confused and slightly tipsy, the effects of the alcohol now catching up with you as you really aren't that much of a drinker after all.

When your eyes meet again, the gap between you two is impossibly smaller and you can feel her breath on you, warm, smelling both like liquor and cherry from what you assume to be her chapstick. ,,May I kiss you?'' she whispers, knowing she had caused so much damage but the desire to finally feel your lips on hers stronger than anything in this moment.

,,Tasha we're drunk..'' you argue, not wanting this to be like that. ,,I'm not, I mean this, every single word and there is no way in this world I'd forget any of this in the morning'' she admits and her eyes sparkle with honesty and before you know it you close your eyes, nodding before her lips crash onto yours.

The moment you had daydreamed about for several years had finally arrived and it feels more heavenly than you ever imagined. Her lips are soft, the taste of alcohol and cherry and the smell of her perfume clouding your senses. The kiss is slow, passionate, filled with every single emotion, admission and apology the two of you could find and had on each other's mind. As your chests touch, your hearts beat heavily and in synch, beating for each other, the adrenaline causing your body to begin shaking. ,,Nat..Nat..'' you breathe heavily before she breaks the kiss, searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

,,I.. I want you'' you admit, your eyes practically pleading with her and she can't help but smirk amused. ,,You sure?'' she whispers, leaning in again and you nod eagerly before she stands up, scooping you into her arms, as your legs wrap around her waist. ,,We may be idiots detka but at least we're each others'' she whispers as she continues plastering your lips and neck with kisses, carrying you to her room and you can't help but chuckle between moans and your heavy breathing.

(Part two smut? let me know)

[thinkinonsense]

Touchཐིཋྀ

origins!logan howlett x fem!reader x black widow!natasha romanoff

cw: mdni!! oral (f+f), strap-on sex, fingering, squirting, doggy style, p in v, angst, some fluff, angsttt, dom!nat & dom!logan x sub!reader

masterlist

after a life of running and living in fear of an impending doom, you and logan had finally managed to build a peaceful life together. deep in the woods sat a wooden cabin where the two of you spent most of your days.

during the week, logan worked down at the lumberyard while you taught ballet to a group of young girls downtown. your boyfriend didn't know much of your past, just that you were tested on and abused back in russia. he never pressured you to talk about the past, his wasn't any better either.

buried in the back of your closet hid a box of belongings from russia. there weren't many things you valued from that time there but you did manage to take some photos of the girls you were friends with, a few journal, and an old pager given to you by someone you no longer knew. her face was everywhere but she never bothered to reach out again after escaping the red room.

"i'll see you later, honey." logan whispered as he kissed your cheek then left the bedroom.

half asleep still, you mumble a goodbye before your head hit the pillow again for the next couple of hours. you didn't have a class today but instead planned on going to town and getting groceries for the week.

it's a little after one when you finally jump in the shower, listing all the things you needed to buy and what you wanted to make for dinner. while picking out an outfit, you hear a faint vibration. logan kept your toys under the bed so, you knew that wasn't where the noise was coming from.

it could be?

inside the box, you can see the familiar number flash. hesitantly, you walk over to the phone and dial. pacing back and forth on the wooden floor, waiting for an answer.

"эй, принцесса."

hey, princess

you knew that voice like the back of your hand but you still couldn't believe it.

"natalia." your accent came out thick and heavy. she should've expected you to be upset still.

it's been everywhere. the news of the sokovia accords and the freeing of the winter soldier. you were keeping up with the news but not too closely. it was irritating watching natasha get to play super hero with the likes of iron man and captain america when you knew the truth.

"can we talk? i need a favor." she sounded desperate.

"i don't think that's a good idea." you sigh, unable to come up with a good excuse.

"c'mon, for old times sake?"

you hesitate. of course you missed her, how could you not? despite the red room being the worst time of your life, natalia was the daylight that kept you going.

"you don't even know where i am."

"look out your kitchen window."

pulling back the curtain, there she stood on your porch. long red hair just like you remembered, a small suite case next to her and a pair of black sunglasses covering her eyes. you hang up the phone and grab a kitchen knife from the counter; moving closer to the door.

"how did you find me?" you squint, feeling somewhere between anger and impressed.

"an old friend owed me a favor." she shrugs. "i didn't picture you as a living among the trees type of girl. you know, it quite dangerous to live alone in the woods."

"i can take care of myself" you remind her before adding, "and i don't live alone."

natasha's face falls a little. if you didn't know her as well as you did, you never would've been able to tell. she had a million questions but wasn't sure if she wanted the answers.

"what was the favor you needed?" you ask, trying to change the subject.

"i need a place to lay low for a bit."

was it horrible that you had to remind yourself that you are with logan now? now you love logan more than anything but you would be lying if you said natasha didn't hold a special place in your heart still.

"no games, nat." you put on your best poker face, knowing she could see right through you.

"even though i do miss playing with you," her lips linger closely to yours. sharing the same air. "i promise, no games."

"good. there's a guest room inside."

the two of you enter the house again and you show her the extra room. it's not very decorated, simply and neat. natasha didn't mind, she was just thankful you hadn't tried to fight her once you saw her again.

"so, who's the lucky lady that managed to tie you down?" nat chuckles to herself as she unpacks her things.

"his name is logan." you answer nervously.

why were you nervous? you didn't owe her anything, especially after the way she left you.

natasha felt the knife in her chest twist at the news. not only had you moved on but you were sickly in love. maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

a car door slams shut, snapping both of you back into reality.

"i'll be back. there's towels under the sink if you want to take a shower." you linger in the door way, waiting for her to turn and catch a glimpse of you before you leave.

"thanks, принцесса."

she doesn't even look up at you.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

logan could smell trouble miles away. the blood soaked in her jacket. the faint smell of her sweat and your cherry perfume. he assumed you were in trouble, maybe someone broke in or lured you out of the house to attack you. within seconds, he was back in his truck to check up on you.

"hey, honey." you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

"hey... are you... are you alright?" he struggled to get out in between kisses.

"mhm, i was thinking we could go for a drive." you were talking too fast, trying to distract him from whatever was inside.

"what's going on, sweetheart?" one of his brows arched, waiting for the truth.

both of you climb into the truck but logan never starts the car. instead he listens to the rapid beating of your heart.

"there's something—someone, from my past that's inside. she needed a place to lay low for a little bit."

logan could tell by your lack of eye contact that there was something you were still hiding something about this friend of yours.

"I won't be upset." he saying lovingly, reaching for your hand.

"when i was in the red room, i worked closely with a woman that i also was in a relationship with at the time."

logan wasn't sure why you were nervous to tell him this? he knew you liked women as well and he wasn't threatened by it. sure, is it a bit odd that your ex was coming here to hide out? defintely but logan of all people should know what it's like to be in need of somewhere to hide out.

"it was more than just physical. she meant a lot to me until..." you debated on telling him more but still on the fence.

"until?" he tests the waters.

"dreykov sent me to budapest. she never looked for me." on the verge of tears, you bite down on your tongue. "it killed me because not only did she leave me but she abandoned all the other girls that were stuck in the red room."

logan pulls you into his chest, stroking your hair gently, letting you know that it's okay to cry. your brain didn't get the memo because nothing came out.

"you don't have to let her stay here if it's too much for you." he reminds you.

"i know. i'm just not sure if i can handle her leaving again."

"must've really loved her, huh, princess?"

you nod softly into his chest.

"i don't mind if she stays but if you don't want her too, that's fine too." he says. "just want you to be happy."

in times like these, it hits you just how lucky you are to be with someone like logan. someone so understanding and loving. he knew the pain you went through all those years ago and how deep the connection with the woman inside must be. you can't survive that level of abuse without something keeping you going. for you, that something was natasha.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

inside the house, natasha watched you and logan out in the car. slightly intimidated by your boyfriends stature and entirely jealous of his arms wrapped around you. she had to remind herself that you were practically a stranger to her now. so much has changed over the years and neither of you were the same girls from the red room anymore.

when she saw the two of you exiting the car, she rushed back into the guest room. in the tiny hallway, she noticed the picture frames on the wall. there's a photo of a group of young ballerinas and yourself. natasha wonders if that's how you keep yourself connected to your past life.

next to your picture is your boyfriend -whatever his name was- and some of his friends outside of a fancy looking school. natasha tried to pay little attention to it on her way back to the room.

ten minutes pass before there's a soft knock on the door.

"come in." natasha calls out, turning off the television.

from behind the door, you appear with a plate and a glass in your hands. the smile on her lips, drops the moment she sees him at your tail.

"thought you might be hungry." you explain, handing her the sandwich you made for her

"isn't that sweet of you to think of me," she teases, watching the way your cheeks flush with color at her words.

logan leans against the door frame while you sit on the bed with natasha. he watched as you completely bewitched the red headed woman in front of you. she was practically hanging onto every word you said. he couldn't blame her though, you have the same effect on him.

"you must be 'lucky logan' ?"natasha cocks her head at the man behind you.

"guess so." he smirks, admiring the doe eyes you give him.

"hm, and you're okay with me staying here?" she asks.

"that's not up to me." logan shrugs.

natasha's green eyes shift over to your face, waiting for you to say something.

"i want you here, nat." you admit.

her heart flutters in her chest. she knew she didn't deserve a second chance and would leave if you asked her too but god, was she grateful that you still wanted her to be here.

"i don't deserve you, принцесса." she says softly, finding it hard to mask her feelings anymore.

"shhh..." you tell her. "just get some rest."

natasha actually listens to you, finishing her sandwich and crawling under the soft comforter. you reach for the empty plate and she stops you before you could walk away; placing a soft kiss on the inside of your palm. the tiny gasp that left your mouth didn't sneak past either of them in the room. once she let you go, you and logan exit the room and go into your own shared bedroom.

logan watched you pace back and forth, wiping her kiss mark off on your blue jeans. it pulled at his heart strings to see you so torn by natasha's presence. tears fall down your face like rain.

"don't cry, sweetheart." logan says, wrapping his arms around you.

"i'm s-sorry, lo..." you apologize, upset at yourself for still harvesting these feelings towards natasha.

"for what?" he asks, lifting up your chin to look at him.

"i love you so much." you blurt out, too afraid to say what you really wanted to.

"i know. i love you too." he smiles, bending down to give you a quick kiss then adding, "and i know you love her too."

"it's not–"

"it's okay." he assures you. "i'm not upset."

"you aren't?" you question, prepared for him to storm out and want nothing to do with you ever again.

"no."

without thinking, you completely collapse into his arms, so thankful for the man in front of you.

"i don't deserve you, logan." you whisper, kissing him gently.

"don't say that." he says sternly. "i'm just trying to give you everything you want in life."

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

hours later, natasha woke up. she could smell faint tobacco from somewhere in the house. it was enough to get her out of bed to see where it was coming from. in the living room, she found logan on the couch watching a western and smoking a cigar with his boots up on the coffee table. he didn't have to turn around to know that nat was there.

"she went to the grocery store to get something for dinner." he says nonchalantly answering the question in your head.

natasha hummed in response, keeping a distance from logan in case he decides to do something rash like fight her.

"you can sit down, you know?" he chuckles, blowing the smoke from his mouth. "i'm not gonna attack you or anything."

"i wouldn't blame you if you did." she remarks, picking the single chair in the living room to sit down at.

"the only way i would do that is if you decide to hurt her again." he states frankly, eyes glued to the television screen.

"i suppose that's fair; but i don't plan on it."

"good. she's practically a damn saint."

natasha smiles a little at his words.

"yeah, she is." she says. “i wish i hadn’t left her the way that i did but there wasn’t much choice in the matter.”

“why did you leave her there?”

“dreykov found out about us. he threatened to have her sold off somewhere to someone who would probably kill her or worse.” natasha’s voice was tiny for once. painfully reminding her of the past she tried to burry. “thought i made it easier by leaving. she doesn’t know it but i did try to go back for her. twice actually. once by myself and another time with my friend, clint. the first time, she didn’t recognize me. the second time, he ordered her to kill me. barely made it out alive."

logan remembered how after a couple of months dating, you opened up about your memory issues. constantly feeling like you were missing a piece of the puzzle that was your life from all the experiments. it’s one of the things that helped you two connect with each other.

“i’ve seen her kill with her bare hands. seen her tied to tables with needles injected into her until she was blue in the face and spitting up blood. she was one of his favorite’s. used to wake up to her screaming from the nightmares.”

“she still gets them sometimes.” logan mutters.

nastasha nods, wiping a tear away quickly.

“do you think she will ever forgive me?”

“i think so.”

“do you think i deserve it?”

“probably not,” he said honestly with a shrug. “but that’s not up to me.”

natasha appreciated his candor at least.

“she’s back.” logan said before she could even hear the car approaching.

logan got up to help you bring in the bags. once both of you are inside, you spot nat sitting in the living room awake.

"hey, whatcha doin’ awake already?” you ask.

"i haven’t been awake long.” she answers, getting up and joining you in the kitchen.

“i’m making pasta, hope that’s alright with you?”

“of course. want some help?”

you instruct her to boil the noodles while you prepare the sauce. the two of you stand close next to each other as nat watches over your shoulder.

"have you heard from yelena lately?" you ask, making small talk.

"no." nat's voice came out a whisper. "have you?"

"mhm." you hum, stirring the sauce. "she called a month ago, asked what i knew about these red vitals she was given."

"vitals?"

"yeah, i told her my memory isn't as good as it used to be."

natasha reaches over and lightly touches your ponytail, twirling the ends around her fingers to help ease you. that’s how she used to calm you down as teenagers, by playing with your hair. deep down you knew you shouldn’t look at her, not this close anyways. nat could smell your cherry perfume, over powering her senses. her plump lips tempted you, sending an ache down to your lower region. she watches you intensely, waiting for you to make a move and wanting you more than ever.

unbeknownst to either of you, logan knew what was going on. he could smell the need forming in your underwear, could practically hear natasha’s dirty thoughts about you. most boyfriends would feel threatened by this but logan was different. he worshipped the ground you walked on and he always valued your happiness. why would he deny you of the love you deserved?

"i-i'm gonna go grab some wine from the cellar." you stutter, leaving her there alone.

nat nods, walking back into the living room to breathe.

"you can kiss her, if she wants you too." logan says aloud, tapping off the end of his cigar on the ashtray next to him.

"you aren't just saying that so then you would have an excuse to try and kill me, are you?" she squints.

"she won't make the first move. too afraid that she'll hurt me." he replied, ignoring natasha's comment.

"you wouldn't care?" she questions.

"no."

"what if i wanted to do more than kiss her?"

"its up to her."

logan watches natasha's eyes cloud with lust at the thought. how could he fault her? you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen in all 200+ years of his life. plus he would be lying in he said that he wouldn't find it hot to see you and natasha going at it.

"hey, is red okay?" you ask, holding a bottle up as you rounded the corner.

both logan and nat looked at you with these hungry looking eyes like you were their prey. logan's nostrils flare a little at the sweet scent.

"r-reds fine." nat stutters, her throat was dry at the thought of being back in between your thighs.

"cool, i'll get the glasses."

as you turn to leave, logan calls after you, "can you bring me a beer, sweetheart?"

"of course" you nod, obediently.

when you return, the three of you sit and watch the western playing for a few minutes until logan huffs loudly, sick of this tension and neither of you two doing anything about it.

"are you two gonna kiss 'n make up already, or what?" logan teases.

natasha and you find each others blown out gaze. both of you needed this. needing closure.

"fuck it." natasha mumbles to herself, getting up and coming over to you.

the redhead straddles you on the couch, caressing your jaw in her delicate palm. you nod your head, letting her know that you wanted this as much as she did. from her first taste of you, she knew it would be impossible to pull away.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

nat chases your plump kiss bitten red lips, backing you up until your legs hit the edge of the bed. your hands are up her shirt and under her bra, squeezing the soft flesh of her tits. rubbing your thumb over the blooming bud and listening to her pretty moans against your lips. she lays you down and strips herself of her clothes. you rush to do the same, wiggling out of your jeans.

behind nat, you see logan walk in with his beer in his hand and take a seat across from you in the corner. knowing that he's watching sent shivers down your spine. it wasn't until natasha grabbed your chin and squished your cheeks together that you realized you had been staring at logan.

"it's not his turn, it's mine." she taunts.

you nod your head and babble out an apology. she removes her grip on you only to lay down in between your thighs. a sight that you missed dearly.

"natty, please don't tease." you whine, arching at the soft kisses she trails inside of your thighs and hip bones, avoiding where you needed her most.

she smiles at the fact that your already shaking with anticipation. surprisingly, she looks over at logan.

"keep her legs spread for me, would ya'?" she asks.

he nods, already hard in his blue jeans. logan joins you two on the bed, sitting behind you and letting you rest comfortable against his chest. he places your legs over his to keep you open for natasha. she groans, sucking a dark plum bruise on your hipbone. meanwhile, logan's leaving similar marks on your neck and along your shoulder.

"please." you whine, wiggling your hips in her face. both natasha and logan can smell your arousal in the air. it's intoxicating.

"patients, baby." she scolds before licking a fat stripe over your clothed cunt.

"w-wanna feel you nat."

without hesitation, natasha tears the lacy material from your body and spreads you open. it's been years since she had last seen you in this position. she needs a moment to capture your angelic imagine.

"there's my girl." nat says, talking to your cunt. completely ignoring you and logan like you two aren't even in the room.

"isn't she a fuckin sight?" logan finally speaks up.

right as you open your mouth to beg her to do something, anything, she leaning in again to lick from your entrance up to your button.

"missed this pussy, принцесса..." nat says sloppily into your folds. "so wet for me."

"uh-uh." you moan, throwing your head back.

logan turns your chin to capture your lips, letting you moan freely into his mouth while his hands come up to massage your tits. fingers pinching and rolling the stiff buds in his palms.

natasha spends a while making out with your cunt; taking her time to savor the honey that pours from inside of you. she pulls back for a second to spit on your mound, letting it drip down before inserting her middle and ring finger. hers weren't nearly as thick as logan's but they are longer and still feel perfect in their own way. she watches how you and logan move together while she pumps in and out of you. for once, she didn't feel jealous of logan for having you. instead it made her heart swell to know that someone else loves you just as much as she does.

despite all the pleasure you felt, selfishly you wanted more. your right hand moves to intertwine itself into nat's red locks, pulling her head back to where you needed her most. her tongue swirled circles over your swollen bud, teasing it playfully. her fingers move faster inside of you as she grinds her clothed cunt against the mattress, moaning against your folds.

"ya' feel good, sweetheart?" logan asks, placing a soft kiss on your hairline.

"sooo good, lo." you purr, gazing up at him with doe eyes.

his low chuckle makes you clench down had on natasha's fingers. all that can be heard in the room are low moans and wet squelching noises. nat kitten licks your button until you reach your first high of the night.

too caught in euphoria to control your legs wrapping around her neck, squeezing her head with your thighs. your loud moans were barely audible to her at this moment. the red head could die happily right here, right now.

carefully, she pulls off of you.

"you did so good for me, принцесса." she praises, stroking your thighs.

as soon as natasha sits up, you reach out and kiss her, tasting yourself on her plump maroon lips. she melts into the kiss making it easy for you to flip her over on her back. logan gets up again, unbuckling his belt as he watches the two of you grind on each other in messy, uncoordinated movements.

"wish you could fuck me like old times, nat." you mumble, kissing her chest and leaving little love bites behind.

"i-i could..." she hesitates.

already ahead of her, logan's rummaging through her backpack and hold up a familiar contraption.

"lookin' for this, red?" he smirks, tossing the strap-on onto the bed next to her.

the last time nat wanted either of you two think is that she just dropped by to fuck you and leave but what can she say? she's prepared for anything.

"is this alright with you, pretty girl?" she asks you in between lightly nibbling on your pulse point while you grind your cunt against the soft skin of her abs.

natasha pulls back to look at you. her hand cradles your jaw, waiting for your answer.

"i need it natty." you nod. "need you inside of me."

those words make her blue eyes turn a stormy dark grey. in a rush, she puts it on and lets you line yourself up to the silicone. despite all the time apart, the two of you fell back into a seamless rhythm together. one of her hands rests on your hip, helping you move up and down while the other paws at your chest, rolling the stiff bud.

"uh-fuck." you whine, throwing your head back when she angles her hips up with a sharp snap.

"that's the spot, huh?" she smirks, watching your pretty face scrunch up as you try and focus.

weakly, you nod your head and babble something incoherent to both hers and logan's ears. it's not the same feeling that logan gives you obviously but the way natasha's fucking up into you makes you feel just as good.

logan makes his way over to you, palming his boxer covered cock as he leans down to make out with you. willingly, giving in as his tongue explores your mouth messily with a hand in your hair. natasha uses this to her advantage, bringing her thumb up to your clit and circle it slowly in contrast to the jolts of her hips hitting yours. logan swallows every little moan that spills from your plump lips.

" 'm so close, natty." you whimper, tears in your waterline as logan's sucks on your pulse point.

"is that so, baby?" she mocks with a light roll of her hips.

"d-don't stop, please." you beg, bouncing faster to chase your high.

natasha and logan were both wishing that they could feel you clenching around them instead of the silicone.

logan's big rough hands help you bounce in rhythm as soon as he sees your movements slow down.

"c'mon, princess." logan groans in your ear. "we wanna see you fall apart for us."

"cum for us, sweet girl." natasha purrs, sitting up to suck on your tit and picking up speed with her thumb.

that's all it takes for you to release on top of nat, hips shaking violently while you leaked all over her lap. eyes screwed shut, stars coming into vision as you try to calm yourself down again. it just felt so good to feel the contrasts between her and logan when they fuck you.

carefully, logan picks you up off of natasha's strap. she takes it off and throws it aside, watching logan help you recover.

"don't ya' think natasha deserves something too for how good she's made you feel, princess?" logan asks you.

"mhm." you nod, crawling in between her legs. "wanna thank you properly, natty."

natasha thinks she might cum just from looking at your big doe eyes in between her thighs. you play flat on your stomach, kissing the plush soft skin. her hips wiggle impatiently in your face. the sweet smell of her arousal reminded you of all the other intimate moments the two of you have shared. within seconds, you're ripping off her lacy black panties and tossing them somewhere to the side of the bed.

"so fuckin' pretty 'n so wet." you mumble to yourself as you pull her fold apart, watching her slick drip from her entrance. "is this all for me?"

"o-only for you, baby." she says with a shaky breath.

you lean forward licking a strip from her entrance to her button. your hands wrap under her thighs and pull her tight against your face, letting her use you however she wanted. natasha grinds down on your tongue, moaning when your nose occasionally bumping her clit. she taste sweeter than any other times you've buried your tongue inside of her.

"love how good your tongue feels, baby." she moans, brushing your hair out of your face.

mind fully focused on nat that you don't even register logan shifting around behind you, running his tip up and down your pussy. lightly slapping your clit before thrusting inside of you. his cock stretches you deliciously, making you moan against natasha's cunt. her fingers pulls a bit at your hair from the vibrations. it's always a struggle to get him to fit inside of you.

"tightest pussy in the fuckin' world, i swear." he mumbles to himself, watching you swallow him whole.

logan's thrusts start to increase as he paws at the flesh of your ass. his tip kisses your cervix repeatedly, making it hard for you to keep your mouth around nat. your forehead pressed against her thigh while you try to concentrate, licking your fingers and inserting them into natasha's tight warm cunt.

"fuck!" nat moans, clenching around your two fingers as they reach that spongey spot deep inside of her. "faster, принцесса. wanna cum for you."

her dirty words sent you into a frenzy. using all of your strength left to make her gush. the noises were so lewd it made your head spin. her back arches and soft moans fall from her lips as she tugs on your hair. like a faucet, she's leaking all over your hand, your face, and down on yours and logan's shared sheets.

behind you, logan is too busy trying not to cum inside of you too soon. he's gripping your hips so hard you know that there will be bruising left behind. every now and then you can hear him grunting and smack the fat of your ass, watching as it bounces back at him. the pleasure builds in your tummy. logan's hand snakes under you to rub at your clit.

"f-faster, lo." you whimper, lifting your mouth off of natasha for a second.

"i gotcha, princess." he groans, doing so.

within seconds, you release all over him. the string of moans vibrate against nat's core, overstimulating her until she cums again, soaking your face entirely. logan doesn't last much longer either. he paints your walls white and keeps you stuffed with his cum, only pulling out when it starts to sting a little.

the three of you are quiet for a moment, needing time to recover. who would've thought that two russia assassins and a mutant would need time to recover from anything, let alone sex.

logan's the first to move, going to bring towels and some water. you rest your head on natasha's stomach, she runs her nails against your scalp the same way she would when you woke up from nightmares. a tear rolls down your cheek, thinking about her running away again.

"what's wrong, принцесса?" she whispers, hearing you soft cry.

"just dreading you leaving again." you mutter, afraid to look up at her.

"hey, i'll be here as long as you want me here." she says, lifting your chin up.

"tasha, someone needs to save those girls. dreykov won't stop until someone comes after him."

there's a long pause of silence before she says anything again. her eyes glued to the ceiling, trying not to cry.

"you know, i used to picture a simple life for the two of us. something similar to this actually, minus the grumpy looking man in the kitchen. i wanted to give you a piece of normalcy but i kept running away, afraid i was the one putting you in harms way." she sighs shakily. "i shouldn't have ran. i should've come back. there's so much i couldn't give you but i see that logan can do that for you."

"look, i love logan more than anything but why can't we make it work too?" your question makes both natasha and logan pause, as he returns into the bedroom.

natasha looks up at logan, ready for him to finally yell and kick her out. especially now that she's coming between the two of you. instead he's looking over at you with a spark of love in his gaze.

"i don't think logan would appreciate sharing you full time." she says, avoiding your wide eyed stare.

"i just want my girl to be happy." he responds, lighting another cigar. "think she would be happier with both of us, red."

the time has never been right for you and natasha but who says it needs to be? she's finally back in your life again and you can't risk letting her go again.

"we will help you track down yelena and fight with you to free those girls from the redroom but i want you here with us, natty. please don't go again."

she finally looks down at you and her heart melts. how would she be able to leave you again? not after today. this is where her heart lied, here with you.

"of course, i'll stay принцесса."

[redroomreflections]

A Family of Her Own

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A Family of Her Own Series

1/7

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 3.8k

Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.

The soft hum of the refrigerator was the only sound in the small, run-down trailer. Natasha leaned casually against the counter, arms folded, her sharp eyes fixed on Ricky Mason. He was standing close, too close, but that was part of their routine. Banter, teasing, pushing each other’s limits. His lips curved into that familiar smirk as he crossed his arms, mimicking her stance.

"I hear things, you know. Something about the Avengers getting divorced."

Natasha let out a soft, dismissive chuckle, her gaze never wavering from his. Her lips pulled into a crooked smile, just enough to make him think he was getting somewhere. He wasn’t.

"Ugh, it’s fine. I’m actually better on my own."

She said it smoothly, confidently. No hesitation. Natasha Romanoff was always fine. She had to be. And if there was a flicker of something behind those green eyes, Mason wouldn’t see it. She wouldn’t let him.

“Are you sure?” Ricky titled his head slightly. Natasha was always a tough cookie to crack. Though he’s sure it came with the territory.

The question hung in the air for a moment, a challenge he tossed at her like it was nothing. Natasha shifted her weight slightly, stepping in just a little closer, closing the gap between them. She tilted her head, her eyes locking onto his with the kind of intensity that would’ve made anyone else back down. But not Mason.

"Yeah. I’m sure."

The way she said it left no room for doubt. Mason raised an eyebrow, but he wasn’t fooled, not entirely. There was something about the way she held herself—too casual, too composed. He let out a breath, deciding to poke just a little more.

"Because you can tell me, you know. That’s the way the whole friends thing works."

Natasha's lips quirked into a smirk, amusement flickering in her eyes. She leaned back slightly, her gaze still locked onto his. She wasn’t going to let him see anything more than what she wanted him to see.

"I have friends."

"People who have friends don’t call me."

There was a beat of silence, a brief pause where something unspoken lingered between them. Natasha didn’t flinch. She didn’t break eye contact, didn’t let her smile falter. This was the game they played. Mason might have been onto something, but if he thought he could crack her, he was wrong.

"Oh, come on. You’d miss me if I didn’t."

Her voice was smooth, light, almost teasing. Mason chuckled, shaking his head. He wasn’t going to push her any further. He knew better.

But there it was again—that subtle shift in her eyes, a flash of something deeper that she buried as quickly as it surfaced. Mason didn’t miss it, but he wasn’t going to call her out. Not today.

“If you ever get tired of being ‘better on your own,’ you know where to find me."

He turned to leave, but before stepping out, he paused, throwing her one last look over his shoulder. She met his gaze, still composed, still every bit the Black Widow.

******

The hot water poured over Natasha’s skin, steam filling the tiny bathroom. She kept her head down, eyes closed, letting the heat soak into her muscles, washing away the grime of the past few days. It was the only time she allowed herself to be still—moments like this, when no one was watching, no one was waiting.

Her mind drifted, not willingly, but out of habit. The sound of the water hitting the floor reminded her of something else, a smaller echo, lighter footsteps.

Stella.

She could almost hear the little girl's voice, high-pitched and insistent, always asking to jump in with her. Every time, Natasha would give in—how could she not?—and the same thing would happen. Stella would giggle, waddle in, and the moment the water hit her face, she’d screech like it was some big surprise.

Natasha’s lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile breaking through. The memory was sharp, vivid, but she pushed it away as quickly as it surfaced. She couldn’t linger on it. Couldn’t afford to.

The water rolled over her back, and she let out a slow breath. This was all temporary. The accords, the separation, the silence—she told herself it was necessary. That it was safer this way. Her family didn’t need to be tangled up in her mess, her enemies.

Stella didn’t need to know why her mama couldn’t always come home.

The thought hung in the air for a moment, but Natasha didn’t let it settle. She wiped a hand over her face, letting the heat pull her back into the present. She had more important things to focus on. Things that required her mind to be clear, her heart colder.

Still, as she turned off the water, the final hiss of the shower rang in her ears, and for just a second, she could hear that screech again, faint and far away. A small piece of her life, one she kept locked away, just out of reach.

She stepped out of the shower, shaking off the warmth like a soldier readying for battle.

It wasn’t time to go home yet.

*****

The low rumble of the movie filled the trailer, the worn-out speakers crackling slightly as the dialogue continued.

“You’re not a sportsman, Mr. Bond.” Hugo Drax recited his lines on screen.

Natasha smirked to herself, leaning back into the creaky couch, damp strands of hair still clinging to her neck. Her thermal t-shirt clung to her skin, and the grey sweatpants she’d pulled on after the shower felt too soft, almost unfamiliar after days of tactical gear and dirt.

Natasha muttered along. “Why did you break up the encounter with my pet python? Because I discovered he had a crush on me.”

She knew the lines by heart. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen Moonraker a hundred times already. But sitting here, alone in the trailer, the dialogue fell flat, the empty space swallowing up the sound.

The movie flickered on, oblivious to the tension tightening in her chest.

Her mind drifted, unbidden, to you. How you’d watch these same old movies together. The way you would stretch out on the couch, feet bare, legs sprawled across Natasha’s lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. She could almost feel it—the gentle press of toes against her thigh, the warmth that spread under her skin, grounding her in a way nothing else could.

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Natasha’s lips, but it didn’t last. The memory was soft, fleeting, and the cold reality of the trailer in Norway wrapped around her like a shadow.

******

The air felt stifling as Natasha and Yelena sat across from each other, both nursing cheap beer and open wounds. Yelena’s eyes sparkled with a teasing grin, but Natasha wasn’t in the mood to play along.

“Did you ever look for your parents? Your real ones?” Yelena pried.

The question hit harder than Natasha expected, but she didn’t flinch. She rarely did. Years of training kept her from showing anything she didn’t want to reveal. Her response was sharp, automatic.

“Well, my mom abandoned me in the street like garbage. What about you?”

Yelena shrugged, almost too casual, her tone light as if they were discussing the weather.

“They destroyed my birth certificate, so I reinvented it. My parents still live in Ohio. My sister moved out west.”

Natasha leaned back in her seat, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. Yelena was always full of stories.

“Is that right?”

“You’re a science teacher. You’re working part-time, though, especially after you had your son. Your husband, he renovates houses.”

The words tumbled out of Yelena’s mouth with a smirk, a fabricated life she was painting for Natasha like a twisted game of make-believe. But for just a second, a flash of something else flickered through Natasha’s mind.

Her son.

Nick, tiny and fussy, gnawing on her finger as another tooth threatened to come through. His chubby hands reaching up for her, his babbling filling the air as she cradled him close, the warmth of his little body against hers.

And Stella. Always loud, always full of energy, tugging at Natasha’s sleeve, begging her to play, to jump in the water with her. Stella's laugh, so bright it echoed in Natasha’s mind even now.

For a split second, she let herself feel it—the tug in her chest, the pull toward the life she kept hidden, buried under layers of secrets.

But it was only a second. She blinked, shutting it down, locking it away as quickly as it had surfaced. She couldn’t afford to let Yelena see it.

“That is not my story.”

Her voice was firm, steady, betraying nothing. Yelena laughed, clearly unconvinced but playing along.“What is your story?”

Natasha looked away, her gaze fixed on some far-off point, something Yelena couldn’t see.

“I never let myself be alone long enough to think about it.” She said.

And that was true. As much as her family—the real one—crossed her mind in these quiet moments, she never let herself dwell on it for too long. Never let herself fall into the temptation of the life she had with you. She couldn’t. Not here, not now. Not with Yelena looking at her like that, trying to pry open the parts of her Natasha wasn’t ready to share.

Her story was too dangerous. Too fragile. And if Yelena knew the truth, if anyone knew about her family it would unravel everything.

So, she kept it locked away, deep inside. She could protect you by keeping you invisible, untouchable.

*******

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue across the small house nestled in the middle of nowhere—a place that felt like home, yet remained a secret. The air was still, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees that surrounded the property. It wasn’t isolated, not by any means; there were neighbors close enough to wave at, but the land was expansive enough to feel like a world away.

Natasha stood on the front porch, her heart pounding in her chest. Behind her, Melina, Alexei, and Yelena lingered, uncertainty written on their faces.

“What is this place?”Alexei asked.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say she’s taking us to a secret family,” Yelena replied. Natasha’s eyes flickered between them. Melina’s face was knowing. She didn’t need answers.

“Just wait here for a moment.” She held up a hand. Her voice was soft but firm, and she didn’t turn to face them fully. Instead, she kept her gaze on the door. Her entire life behind it.

Melina stepped forward, concern etched on her features. “Natasha, are you sure about this?”

Natasha finally turned, meeting her mother’s gaze. There was warmth there, a flicker of understanding.

“I need to do this. I need to let you in.”

She felt a tug at her heart—a longing for connection she had kept at bay for so long. But this was different. This was her family, the ones who had fought with her and for her, the ones who understood the weight of their shared past.

It’s quiet in the house. Almost too quiet. Natasha steps inside to see her home immaculately cleaned. No sign of toys, no sign of people living here.

She swallows the lump in her throat and makes her way through the house into the kitchen. It’s there she finds you. All three of you.

It’s Stella that notices her first. She’s dressed in a princess costume with a crown on her head. When her eyes meet her Mama’s, she gasps and shouts,

"Mama!"

Your head snaps up, and for a moment, it's like everything is frozen. A look of surprise and confusion crosses your face, followed by a flicker of hurt. The room is silent, and then there's the sound of a baby's whimpering.

Natasha looks at the high chair sitting near the dining table. There's Nick, fussing and red-faced.

“Mama, you’re home?” The two-year old raced across the room, her crown shifting on her head, as she raised up her arms.

You move toward the high chair, wiping your hands on a dishtowel. Stella reaches her, and Natasha scoops her up.

"Hey, Stella, I missed you." Natasha places a gentle kiss on Stella’s hair. The two year old wraps her tiny arms around Natasha’s neck.

"You've been gone forever. Why don't you come home anymore? Did you miss me, mama?"

"Yes, I've missed you every second."

Stella leans back, her brows furrowing. “Did you change your hair? Not red anymore.”

Natasha smiles a soft chuckle leaving her. "Not exactly. I dyed it.”

"Oh, well, it's pretty. Can I dye mine? I want blue."

Natasha glances at the highchair where you're busy wiping Nick's face. There's no expression on your face, no hint of how you feel. She looks back at Stella.

"Let's talk about that later, okay?"

Stella nods. "Okay."

"Are you hungry?" You speak up.

"No, no,” Natasha shakes her head. “Can I see him?”

She walks over, and Stella wiggles in her arms. She wants to run to her brother, but Natasha is holding her close.

"Nick." Natasha gently nudges his cheek. His tiny lips pout, and his eyes widen as he stares at his mother. It seems that he looks to you for confirmation of whether or not Natasha is a safe person.

"He's grown," she says.

"He has," you reply, watching her.

"Hey, big guy." She kisses his chubby cheeks, and Stella giggles.

"He's soft, Mama." Stella reaches out and runs her fingers over her brother's arm. "Isn't he soft, Mom?"

"He is, sweetie."

Natasha puts Stella down.

“He has some teeth now,” Stella informs her. “He even bites Mommy’s boobies now when he’s eating. She always says ouch.”

You choke back a laugh and cover your mouth. You turn to the sink. Natasha grins and chuckles.

"Is that right? Are you biting your Mommy’s boobies, Nicky?"

Nick simply reaches his arms out much like his sister.

"He missed you, too," Stella says, her hand resting on Natasha's leg.

"I know, I'm sorry. Mama had to go away for a bit."

"Why do you have to leave all the time? Why can't you stay home?" Stella pouts.

Natasha crouches down. She takes Stella's hands in hers.

"I can't, not right now, but I'm here for a little bit, okay? And we're going to spend time together."

"Really? Will you take me swimming again? I really want to swim in the pool, but Mama won't let me. She says she's afraid I'll drown."

"Of course, I'll take you swimming."

"Can you bring a shark? Please?"

Natasha chuckles. "I'll see what I can do."

She stands and looks at Nick who is still reaching for her. He's babbling, his lips moving and his face getting redder.

"He wants you to hold him,” Stella reminds her.

"Oh, okay." Natasha lifts him up and holds him close. She's always careful, and she always loves the way her son feels in her arms. He snuggles close, his chubby arms wrapping around her.

You watch them for a second longer. Stella decides she’s had enough and leaves to her bedroom. No doubt to find something new to show Natasha. When Natasha puts Nicky back into his high chair, she has your attention again.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” She asks.

You bite your lip and shake your head.

"No. I'm not mad. Surprised."

"I shouldn't have left you hanging like that, though."

"It's okay." You say softly. She reaches out an arm to pull you in.

"How long are you staying?" You ask.

"Just two days. I promise. I want to spend some time with them."

You nod, and Natasha kisses your temple. "Thank you.” She says. “For keeping them safe.”

“It’s what we agreed on,” You say. “I was afraid they would find us. Ross. He seems to be on a witch hunt for you.”

“I’ve taken care of that for now,” Natasha shakes her head.

You frown and tilt your head.

"Taken care of it?"

"Yeah. We'll be okay. I'll explain everything. I have to tell them everything, too. But for now, I'm home.” She wraps her arms around your waist, hoping to get closer, hoping to feel you.

"Can we just forget about it, for a while, at least? Can we go back to the way things were?" She asks.

"I don’t know if that’s possible,” You mumble. You feel her hand run along your back soothingly. You’ve missed her touch.

"We'll figure it out. Okay?" She asks.

You nod and wrap your arms around her neck. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too."

She looks into your eyes, leaning forward, her lips resting against yours. It’s not a kiss. Not yet.

"I love you," she says.

"I love you." You respond.

She closes the distance, kissing you tenderly, holding you tightly. Your lips are soft, and she can taste the remnants of coffee on your tongue.

“Forgive me,” Natasha whispers. You want to ask her what for. Why would she need forgiveness? But the words are lost in the soft press of her lips against yours.

She pulls away, her forehead resting against yours.

"I'm sorry," She says. “I’ve been gone too long. He doesn’t remember me.” She’s referring to Nicky.

"He does. He will," You say. "You have time."

Natasha gives a small smile.

"I'm tired. Can we just...go to bed? Just lay with me for a bit."

“Mama, did you leave people on the porch?” Stella shouts in curiosity. It’s then you follow her voice. She’s standing with her face against the screen door, seemingly having a staring contest with a blonde woman.

Natasha laughs and turns toward the door.

"Oh, right." She steps outside and comes back with three people trailing behind her. Stella clings to her, tiny hands gripping her t-shirt, as they all walk back into the kitchen. “This is my family.” Neither of you know who she is referring to.

“You have a family?” Melina whispers in amazement. Though she’d guessed it the longer they waited outside.

"Who are they?" Stella asks.

"This is my mom, and dad, and my baby sister Yelena,” Natasha supplies. You look over at her curiously. “This is my wife, y/n and our children. Stella is two going on twenty five. Dominic, or Nick, is almost eight months.”

“Wife?” Yelena furrows her brow. “I was way off then.”

You glance between Natasha and the new arrivals, unsure what to make of it.

Natasha sighs.

"There's a lot to talk about."

"Clearly," Alexei says, his eyes wide as he takes in the small family before him.

"Why don't you sit down and get comfortable," You suggest, gesturing to the living room. "I'll get everyone something to drink and maybe a snack. Natasha can catch you up."

They all sit, Stella moving with them to sit upon the couch. She and Yelena end up in another staring contest.

"This is awkward," Yelena whispers.

"Just give it time," Melina says.

"I have so many Barbie’s upstairs,” Stella offers up small talk. “Do you play barbies?” She turns her head to Alexei.

"No, no. I don't," He says.

Stella nods and turns her gaze to Melina. "What about you?"

"No, no barbies," Melina responds.

“Uncle Steve plays Barbie’s when he comes,” Stella sighs.

"Steve plays Barbies?" Yelena's brow raises.

"Yes. Uncle Steve is really good at playing. He lets me have the car and the doll."

"Then I will play Barbie’s too,” Alexei gestures. “Bring them.” His one sided competition would never end. Not even when it came to playing Barbies.

“You don’t know what you just started,” Natasha helps you bring in the drinks and a few bags of chips. You don’t usually have guests.

Melina takes the drink from Natasha and watches the way the two of you interact. There's an ease, a comfort, and it makes her wonder just how much she really knew about her daughter.

"I’m sure there are things you want to know,” You sit with Nicky in your lap. He eyes the newcomers curiously.

"Like why we never met you, why this is the first time you are bringing us to this place," Yelena says, looking around. “Why no information is out there about you.

"I thought the house was a cover," Alexei speaks up.

"It is," Natasha says.

"But, it's real?" Melina asks.

Natasha looks around the room, and the smile on her face is genuine. It's full of warmth and love. “It is.”

“I’m sure I’m in a database somewhere,” You begin. “I’m former SHIELD.”

Yelena and Alexei share a look, and Melina looks at her daughter.

"What is your full name, y/n?" Melina asks.

You smile politely. "My name is y/n Romanoff-L/n. My maiden name was y/l/n. I was born in 1986. I'm 30. I have a degree in computer science. I met Natasha shortly after her defection but we didn’t start dating until years later.”

"And that's when you had Stella," Melina states.

"Yes," You smile.

"And when did you get married?"

"Four years ago," Natasha supplies.

"This is real news," Alexei states.

Natasha chuckles. "We've been together for a while. 8 years."

"It's not a traditional story," You say, bouncing Nicky in your lap.

“How does being hidden work for the kids?” Melina asks.

"It's not easy. We try to make it seem as normal as possible. Stella doesn't understand everything. She's not even 3 yet. But we're working on it."

"Mama, can you open this?” Stella asks as she passes Natasha a juice box as if it’s her normal thing.

"Natasha being a soccer mom was not on my list of things,” Yelena mumbles.

"I'm not a soccer mom," Natasha defends.

"You kind of are," You chuckle.

"Mama is a super-duper cool spy," Stella states.

"You've told her that?" Alexei asks.

"Not in detail," You say. "But, we've talked about it."

"Mama has to protect us from the bad guys," Stella adds, taking a sip of her juice. “And when I’m big enough I’m gonna do it too. Like Wanda.”

“She has the biggest crush on Wanda.” You elaborate.

"And how does Wanda fit into this?" Yelena asks.

"I work with Wanda," Natasha states.

"But the whole time you've been doing that, you've also been coming home to a wife and kids," Alexei points out.

It wasn't always easy," You admit.

"It's not," Natasha shakes her head.

"I'm going to get dinner started. If you'll excuse me."

Natasha looks over and watches as you get up. You're carrying Nicky and Stella is trailing behind you.

"You can join her if you'd like," Natasha suggests. "She's used to doing this on her own, but, the more help the better."

"Your life is so complicated," Yelena sighs.

"Tell me about it," Natasha laughs.

next part

[midastouch013]

Exes And Stomach Flus

Based on this request

Summary: You just came back from a horrible date, so what happens when you hear your ex throwing up on you way back.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort. Self-loathing (N). Break ups. Throwing up. Sick Nat

---

The echoes of a disastrous date reverberated in your mind as you trudged through the walls of the avengers compound. The evening had been a train wreck, courtesy of a pick-me chick whose incessant need for validation grated on your last nerve.

The terrible evening was a stark reminder of why you had distanced yourself from the dating scene in the first place. But even as you tried to push the memories aside, thoughts of Natasha flooded your mind, bringing with them the pain of your breakup.

It had been months since Natasha ended things, leaving you with more questions than answers. There were no explanations, no closure—just a void where your relationship had once thrived. In the aftermath, you had retreated from the avengers, fearing having to see her, seeking solace in solitude as you tried to heal the wounds she left on you.

And so when you reached Natasha's door, yours just 3 more down, you hesitated. Sighing heavily, ready to go to your room and drown your sorrows with a bottle of wine.

You, however, stopped when a muffled sound caught your attention—a retching, guttural sound that sent a pang of concern through you and before you knew it, against your better judgment, your hand was knocking softly on her door.

"Natasha?" you called out, pushing the door open cautiously. The bed had been abandoned but the bathroom lights glowed, and the sight that greeted you was unexpected, yet strangely familiar. There she was, Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow herself, hunched over the toilet, a ghost of her usual composed self. The sound of her sickness echoed in the room, stark against the backdrop of her vulnerability.

You stepped inside, closing the door behind you. "Hey," you murmured softly, approaching her side. "Are you okay?"

"I'll survive," she said cold and abrupt, although the weakness showed clearly

And that made you falter, feeling like an intruder in her space. The pain of being near her, yet so far from the intimacy you once shared, threatened to overwhelm you. You considered leaving, seeking solace in the company of someone—anyone—but the sight of Natasha's vulnerability rooted you to the spot.

"Nat," you murmured softly, torn between your desire to help and the ache in your heart. "Do you want me to get Clint or someone else?"

You were sure she'd ask for Clint, Wanda at the least, but Natasha's response was immediate, a desperate plea that cut through the air like a knife, a stark contrast to the previous response. "Please, don't leave me," she whispered, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

"Nat-asha, I don't know if this is a good idea," you protested weakly, your heart torn between conflicting emotions.

And for the first time in the last few months, her eyes look up at yours with a silent plea in her eyes. A look you knew all too well—a silent request for comfort, for you to be there in her time of need.

Despite the turmoil within, your heart couldn't ignore the silent plea in Natasha's eyes, nor the desperation in her weakened voice as she begged you to stay.

“Please”

For what felt like an eternity, you battled with your own emotions, protesting weakly against the overwhelming urge to leave. But with each passing moment, Natasha's grip on your hand tightened, her silent plea resonating within you, until finally, with a heavy sigh, you relented.

"I'll stay," you whispered softly, the words barely above a breath, yet weighted with the depth of your emotions.

Natasha's relief was palpable, a flicker of gratitude shining in her eyes as she leaned into your touch. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the quiet of the room, the silence, not for long though, as she hunched over the toilet again.

As Natasha retched again, you winced in sympathy, a pang of sorrow tightening your chest. Without hesitation, you moved closer, your hand rubbing soothing circles on her back as she endured another wave of sickness.

"It's okay, Nat," you whispered softly, your voice a gentle reassurance in the midst of her distress. "I'm here. You're going to be okay."

Natasha's only response was a weak nod, her grip on your hand tightening as she struggled to regain her composure. Despite the pain etched on her features, there was a quiet determination in her eyes—a silent acknowledgment of your presence and the strength it brought her.

As the waves of nausea subsided, you helped Natasha to her feet, her body trembling with weakness. With careful movements, you guided her to the bathroom sink, supporting her as she rinsed her mouth and splashed water on her face.

"Can you stand?" you asked softly, concern lacing your voice, when you realised she had finished throwing up.

With a determined nod, Natasha attempted to rise, but her legs wobbled beneath her, threatening to give way. Without hesitation, you stepped forward, your arms wrapping around her waist to steady her.

"I've got you," you murmured reassuringly, your voice a gentle anchor in the sea of uncertainty.

Together, you guided Natasha to the sink, supporting her as she leaned against the counter. With trembling hands, you picked up the toothbrush, applying toothpaste with careful precision.

"Here, let me help," you offered, your touch gentle as you guided the brush along Natasha's teeth. With each stroke, you could feel the tension in her body easing, her breaths coming easier as the discomfort began to fade.

As you helped her rinse her mouth and splash water on her face, you couldn't help but marvel at the vulnerability she displayed—the quiet strength that lay beneath her fragile exterior. She'd only ever shown you this few months after you started dating, and that was after you had admitted that you loved her.

With Natasha leaning against you for support, you guided her to the bedroom, your movements slow and deliberate. You helped her change into fresh clothes, your touch a silent reassurance of your presence.

You settled Natasha into bed, ensuring she was comfortable before taking your place on the opposite side, leaving a significant space between you.Then, in the stillness, you heard what seemed to be a small sniffle, followed by another. And another. And soon enough the sound of Natasha's silent tears filled the room. 

As Natasha's tears fell and she let out her first sob, something she never does, only ever silently crying, your concern intensified, your heart pounding with worry. "Nat, what's wrong?" you asked, your voice soft but urgent, reaching out to touch her trembling shoulder that faced away from you.

She recoiled slightly, as if your touch startled her, before finally turning around and meeting your gaze with eyes brimming with pain. "You… you'll hate me," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own cries.

Your brow furrowed in confusion, your own heartache mixing with concern for her. "Tasha, whatever it is, you can tell me," you urged gently, your voice tinged with worry.

“The reason-” she cracked, unsure of what to say, “The reason we broke up-” 

With a shaky breath, Natasha hesitated, her lips parting as if she struggled to find the right words. "It wasn’t you, it was me," she finally managed, her voice thick with emotion.

A surge of frustration and anger rose within you, the pain of her abrupt departure still fresh in your mind. "What do you mean, it's not me? You ended things without a word, Natasha!" you exclaimed, your voice trembling with emotion. "You left me without any explanation, and now you expect me to believe it's just you?"

As the words spilled from your lips, a torrent of hurt and betrayal and partially confused with why she was bringing it up in the first place, Natasha flinched, as if your words were a physical blow.

She let out a shaky breath.

"I felt unworthy… like all I could offer you was pain and darkness," she confessed, her voice trembling with self-condemnation. "I'm a monster, and you deserve so much more than that."

Natasha's confession struck you like a dagger, each syllable driving a wedge deeper into your heart. Your throat tightened with unshed tears as you listened to her unravel before you, her voice trembling with pain and anguish.

"I'm broken, Y/n," she choked out, her words a broken whisper against your chest. "I don't deserve your love... I don't deserve anyone's love."

Natasha's words hung heavy in the air, her words a painful echo of her inner turmoil, and you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. The weight of her self-loathing bore down on you like a crushing weight, threatening to break you more than you were by the breakup. And as she broke down before you, her sobs echoing in the darkness, you knew that you couldn't let her face this pain alone.

With sure hands, you quickly gathered her into your arms, pulling her into your chest despite the resistance in her movements. She pushed against you with all her strength, her cries of anguish muffled against your shoulder as she tried to push you away. But you held on, refusing to let go, your grip firm and unwavering as she struggled against you.

With each push, each desperate attempt to break free, your heart broke a little more, the pain of her rejection cutting deep into your soul. But you refused to give up, your love for her outweighing the ache in your heart. And so you held her close, whispering soothing words into her ear as she fought against you, her cries growing louder with each passing moment.

But slowly, oh so slowly, the resistance began to fade, her struggles growing weaker as the tears continued to fall. And as she finally collapsed against you, her body trembling with exhaustion, you held her close, your arms a silent refuge in the midst of the storm.

Gently, you brushed the tears from her cheeks, your touch tender as you cradled her close.

"Nat," you began softly, your voice a soothing balm in the darkness. "You're not everything you claim to be."

With a shaky breath, you launched into a heartfelt monologue, your words pouring forth much like the contents of her breakfast, lunch and dinner, a few moments prior

"You're not a monster, Nat," you asserted, your voice unwavering. "You're one of the bravest people I know. You escaped the Red Room, survived it. When Clint and I gave you a chance, you took it, you took it and never looked back. You're not broken—you're a survivor."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you continued, recounting the countless moments of humor and warmth that Natasha brought into your life. From her dry wit to her fierce loyalty, each trait painted a picture of a woman far far far away from the despicable figure she saw herself as.

"And let's not forget how you save millions of people, on a weekly basis" you added, a note of pride in your voice. "You risk your life all the time, from stopping bombs from detonating to fighting aliens conjured by gods, and because of you, countless lives were spared. That's not the mark of a monster—that's the mark of a hero."

"And don't even get me started on the cute things you do," you teased gently, a playful twinkle in your eye. "Like the way you scrunch up your nose when you're concentrating, or the way you pretend to hate it when I steal the last slice of pizza. Those quirks, they make you who you are. They make you human."

Leaning in, you pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "Tasha, you deserve the world," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity. 

"You in the months we were together made me the luckiest and happiest person in the world, just by being next to me. And no matter what lies in your past, no matter what mistakes you think you've made, I'll always see you for the incredible person you are."

Despite the tears still lingering in her eyes, Natasha couldn't help but chuckle at your words, a faint glimmer of light returning to her gaze.

Natasha's tear-stained eyes searched yours, a glimmer of hope flickering within them. "You really think so?" she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," you replied, your own voice filled with conviction. "As a matter of fact, I know so"

She gave you a small smile which didn't last long as her stomach lurched again and she was scrambling out, from under the covers.

As Natasha rushed up from the bed, the urgency in her movements palpable, you couldn't help but spring into action once more. Hurrying after her, you offered your support, holding back her hair as she retched into the toilet once more. The sound tore at your heart, a stark reminder of her vulnerability in this moment of weakness.

Once she had finished, you helped her back to bed, guiding her gently until she was settled against the pillows. As she leaned back against you, her breathing labored, a moment of vulnerability passed between you, her words hanging heavy in the air.

"I still love you," Natasha whispered softly, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the room.

You froze, her admission catching you off guard. "I… I just got back from a date," you stammered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

The hurt flickered in Natasha's eyes, a guardedness settling over her features once more. With a determined look, she tried to sit up, as if preparing to distance herself once more.

But you couldn't let her, you wouldn't. Without hesitation, you reached out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "Nat, wait," you urged, your voice filled with urgency. "I'm… I'm still in love with you too."

And that seemed to click in her head as she relaxed in your arms again but a small tension lingered in the air, the weight of your admissions still hanging heavy between you. And, just as the silence threatened to become suffocating, you felt a spark of mischief flicker within you.

"Well, I suppose that's one way to get back with your ex," you quipped, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

Natasha's chuckle was music to your ears, a soft melody that chased away the lingering tension in the room. "I guess you're right," she replied, her voice laced with amusement, before adding. "I'd kiss you right now if my mouth didn't taste of puke."

The humor in her words caught you off guard, a burst of laughter bubbling up from deep within you. "Well, that's a mood killer if I ever heard one," you joked, the laughter easing the weight from your shoulders.

And so, a toothbrush and paste later, you finally got to kiss the ruby red lips of the love of your life again. Knowing that it only got better from this.

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

[luvt0kki]

INTERLUDE | OPENING SEQUENCE

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ s.w.m masterlist ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ taglist ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧

This scene that locked me up The sequence that's like forever Stay for me, stay for me, stay for me I can't get used to it, used to it, used to it

🎧: Opening Sequence - TXT

previous | INTERLUDE | next

pairings: ot8 x f!reader (san x reader)

w.c : 10k ( im sorry for any errors)

cw: mature, ,minors do not interact, nsfw, reader is afab, slow burn, polyamory, smut , bittersweet, angst, MC's background is inspired by Black Widow's background with the Red Room, reader is called sweet heart/baby, hints of abuse/manipulation, mc’s past, mention of their training days, injuries, scars, loss of virginity, first time, very very very longgggggg chapter I’m sorry

REMINDER: my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n : surprise? SPECIAL CHAPTER!!!! I hope you guys like this one. I didn’t initially plan to write this but after posting chapter 005 I wanted to write something different or something else and this came about. I hope you guys like. Thank you for being so patient with me 🥺💗

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE, OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF MY WORK HERE. I DO NOT NOR WILL ALLOW IT.

“How long do you think before they find us here?”

The young assassin paused, his heart dropping. Never has he ever heard you, YOU, out of all the graduated students of the Academy, sound like this.

You were always so sure of yourself but now, he was hearing a completely different person yet so familiar. When was the last time he heard you like this? He was quick to recall it and that ache in his chest began to feel as if he was burning from the inside. This small, unsure, and weak voice belonged to the little girl he grew up with before the academy changed everything and he never heard you like this again.

Til today.

He was scared to turn around.

If your own resolve was shaking then the situation was worse than he thought.

San shook his head and continued to look around the padded room looking for any signs of a possible escape. Even if you two did get out, you two would have nothing but your knives and your fists.

“No one’s going to come for us, aren’t they Sannie?” You choked out his nickname so softly, that he felt his heart broke. “At the end of the day…” you went on, the fears of a little girl that San had failed to protect breaking through the facade the Academy molded and chiseled you in. “I’m just one of their many weapons. The other girls in the Academy…they’re good. Better. I will be of no use soon.”

San’s hands were beginning to tremble uncontrollably as he reloaded the gun. You were the Academy’s proudest creation, you had set the standard. Though those things were true, these were your fears. They were just as real.

“We’ve sent a Morse code to them. They’ll find us soon. They won’t let you go as easily.” San swallowed the lump in his throat trying to maintain composure and not let the impending doom of you both get to him.

What made him sadder was that he was right. The Academy won’t let you go. You were chained to them in a way, he wasn’t.

“Sannie…”

They could afford to lose him. He was a part of the top three of those who graduated with him but he wasn’t the first of the batch.

“They’ll come for you.”

The room that confined you two was dim. The skylight let some moonlight shine through to illuminate what it could in the darkness you two were submerged in. Did your captors really believe the Academy would buy their ransom for two of their assassins? They would come with a brute force that would leave them nothing in ashes. If no one came for the two of you, they’ll kill you both or worse, sell the two of you off to the market.

San would kill them before they even thought of selling you as a slave.

“Sannie, it’s cold.”

His composure broke then.

Gone was the weapon the Academy created.

Without any hesitation, San went to where you had been sitting (on the white sheet mattress in the room they threw you two in) then pulled you onto his lap with his arms wrapped around you. Your skin was cold to the touch and his desperation to hold you only grew. He cradled you so gently in his arms, scared that if he embraced you tighter you’d shatter.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, resting his chin on the top of your head as he kept his gaze up, fighting back tears and the urge to press his lips on the the crown of your head. “I’m here. I'm not going anywhere.”

You were taught to never take anyone’s words seriously. Always doubt them, they once said. Doubt them until they prove it because you can never know what they mean and yet, you believed every word San said.

Every promise he has ever made, he kept them. Everything he said he would do, he did. But even if he didn’t prove to be a man of his word, the part of you that you pushed in the dark, would believe him blindly.

His strong arms held you in a way you never knew you needed to be held and the warmth of his body was giving you, melted away the armor you didn’t have the luxury to take off.

“Sannie,”

He loved it when you called him Sannie. Since you two met, he was your Sannie. If you asked him now, just once, to be yours, he’d be yours forever.

“Yeah?” He caressed your back in gentle circles, taking note of how your shivering lessened and your breathing calmed.

You didn’t continue your thought. It got stuck in your throat. How could you possibly say what you wanted to? Instead, you opted to bury your face into his neck. You’ll think about it for a bit…because what if it was the wrong time to say it?

“Can I hold your hand?”

Your voice was such a soft whisper, that San almost didn’t hear it. It was like you were embarrassed to have even asked, even though he’s held your hand so many times in secret during your training days when it was an evaluation day.

San hummed in response and carefully, still cradling you in his lap with your head leaning on his chest, slipped his hand with yours. He stared at your hands as he did. His hand was bigger than yours and his heart dropped when he realized you had taken off your gloves. Such delicate hands were bruised at the knuckles and hands that only ever touched or brushed him so gently.

He knew in your head you could only see how stained your arms were with blood.

“Your hands are cold,” he pointed out, pouting a little at the fact and like he did when you were younger, he took both your hands and brought them close to his mouth to breathe warmth into them.

You felt your heart thump particularly strong in your chest. The feelings you’ve had for San that you had hidden away because you were told you could never be loved nor love for you were only a weapon, returned.

Because you are a weapon, you would only ever hurt the people you love.

“How are you so warm?” You chuckled, falling into a comfort you denied yourself for so long. “If I remember correctly, you were such a small petite thing when we were younger. I was afraid you wouldn’t make it past the selection.”

He laughed softly at the memory. “I didn’t want to be left behind. I need to be with you no matter what.” He let himself speak freely and honestly, letting his hands warm yours.

“I would’ve purposely failed if that was the case. I wouldn’t want to continue on without you.” You admitted, feeling the ache of your muscles finally hit you.

“They would’ve known if you did.”

“That’s true.”

“I would catch up to you no matter what. To be by your side…” San paused, afraid to say what he wanted to in fear that you may not feel the same. “For a long time, I believe that’s where I belong.”

His words caught you off guard. Did Sannie know? Did he know that you loved him? There was no way he could but the possibility of attraction between the two of you could not be ruled out so easily. It was there. You both knew it. You two just never spoke of it.

“Do you still believe that?” You asked, feeling a little braver and desperate.

What if this was it? It had been four days since the enemy got the upper hand and immobilized you and San and sealed you two up in this room. What if the Academy did abandon you both? Weapons are replaceable.

“I’m here with you now, aren’t I?”

He’s always been there.

You lifted your head off his shoulder to gaze up at him.

Gone was the little boy you worried about whenever you two trained separately. The one who was easily thrown and bullied around by his much stronger contenders. You were afraid of losing him even then because you had wondered why someone with such a gentle heart could ever hurt people. For goodness sake, he continued to let himself get beaten up just because one of the much younger trainees out of desperation and hunger, stole a piece of roasted sweet potato.

Before you now was a man. San still had the handsomeness he’s had since he was younger except it matured and bloomed into sharp features and a striking beauty that lost all the softness of his younger self. His body was no longer frail and sickly. His back and shoulders became broad, lean muscles had grown and given him more shape that reminded you of the prowess of a black panther.

But when he smiled.

He was the Sannie you cared for and loved so deeply…so quietly.

“Can you promise me something?” You asked, feeling your heart begin to ache.

“Anything for you.” He smiled softly down at you and you wished he hadn’t because it’d made your heart want him even more.

“If we get out of this alive…” you felt tears begin to form in your eyes. “Promise me you’ll leave the academy.”

“Y/N—,” he began to protest, sitting up a little bit you shushed him gently and changed your positions.

You cupped his face gently with your hands and looked straight into his eyes.

“When we get out of here, you need to disappear. Leave this life behind.”

San has never seen you cry since the Selection. Your eyes which were usually blank and cold, and that only ever warmed when you looked at him were glassy with tears and there was fear in them. Pure fear and hurt.

“P-please, Sannie. Leave the Academy.”

Why were you asking him something so difficult?

“You deserve more than this life. You should be able to live freely and to love freely. Leave all this behind. Leave me behind.” You were begging him now, your hot tears falling onto his beautiful face. His eyes were so gentle as they looked up at you.

“Don’t ask me of this, Y/N.” He tried to be stern to mask the breaking of his heart. “You know I can’t do that!” He wrapped his arms around your waist. “I can’t. I can’t…I can’t.” His voice was trembling, both your fears breaking you down.

“Do it for me, Sannie.” You wiped his tears away with your thumbs, fighting the urge to kiss the beauty mark on his upper cheek. “If one of us gets to be free, it should be you.”

“That’s not fair, Y/N.” He grabbed you by the back of your neck while his other hand brought your leg to be able to wrap around him, consumed by the need to be close to you. He pressed your forehead against his.

“We both deserve to live. If we’re talking about who should be free, it should be you.” He said through gritted teeth, still not letting all his composure go. How could you think so little of your life? “You’re not a weapon.”

He took your hand and placed it over where his heart would be. “We both have hearts that beat. We both have tears to cry. You breathe just like I do. You feel just like I do…you can love just like I do.”

San’s words echoed in your head, they rang like an alarm as those words breached the codes that the Academy programmed into you.

You couldn’t think straight. None of you could.

‘You can love just like I do.’

Could you, really?

Your bleary eyes searched San’s glimmering onyx orbs. You were scared to find nothing but conviction and such surety that made you believe him that you could. The hope in his eyes frightened you.

You didn’t know how to love. You only assumed to know that love was a precious emotion you could never have. The Academy said love was a weakness but all the training and programming they did, seemed to not exist at this very moment. Neither did it for San.

Well in his case, you had always been his exception to every rule. He’d break rules, laws, and bones for you.

“I don’t know if I can,” you sobbed softly. The fact you don’t even know how to love makes you feel as if you weren’t human.

Love was different from lust. You knew that. Everyone, even those under the Academy, had needs and everyone was left to handle it themselves as long as it didn’t compromise their abilities or get in the way of missions.

To put it simply, they just fucked for the feeling of it.

But no one touched you. You wouldn’t let it happen. You couldn’t. The other girls were nice enough to tell you how to do it yourself and you wondered if San has ever needed to get those needs out of the way…and the thought of who it could’ve been with made your chest ache at the thought.

“You can.” He smiled, so soft and gentle, it made you wonder if anyone else in the galaxy could look at you that way. So fondly and not the monster and killer you really were.

San held your hand that was against his heart tightly, still smiling up at you so sweetly you didn’t think you could handle that look. It was so foreign to you.

“Y/N, if you’ll let me,” San didn’t care anymore. If you two were going to die tomorrow and if he was going to do as you made him promise, he’d hold you and speak as if this was his last night in this life. “Let me make you feel. It doesn’t have to be love. But please, let me make you truly feel.”

You knew you could say no and it would be okay. All your time in the Academy, you realized the only time you ever felt safe was when you were with San. You didn’t have to keep your guard up with him and you didn’t have to lie to him.

Throwing all caution out the window and focusing on San, just him, you exhaled softly, unaware that you had been holding your breath.

“O-okay.” You held his face softly once more, telling yourself he was real. That he was here, he had never left you not once and he wouldn’t leave you til you told him to. “P-please Sannie.” Your voice quivered. “I want to feel alive.”

“Don’t cry, my darling,” he cooed, wiping your tears away. “You know I’ll do anything for you, right?”

You nodded, letting yourself enjoy the soft touch of his hands in your hair and on your face, and the warmth of his embrace.

“Can I kiss you?”

You felt heat bloom in your cheeks at the question. San knew you’d never been kissed. Well, he knew because first of all, he was your closest friend in the Academy and you told him everything, and secondly, he may or may not have scared off anyone else who wanted to.

“O-okay.” You’ve never felt so shy.

“I won’t ever hurt you, Y/N.” He leaned closer, your heart racing you felt as if it was going to jump out of your chest. “With everything I am and as long as I’m around, I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Your lips parted the slightest bit as his sweet words overwhelmed you with a sensation you’ve only ever felt in tingles whenever you were with him and now they were bursts of warmth that radiated throughout your body.

The plumpness of your lips and that innocent and pure way you gazed at home made him lose all his resolve. Softly as if handling the finest and most fragile porcelain, he pressed his lips against yours, their softness and their warmth, and the closeness of it all, made him feel as if the world had stopped.

You didn’t know what to do but when his lips gently moved against yours, a part of you made you do the same. It’s like your body needed to reciprocate his actions naturally. Maybe it was because you had thought about kissing him and wondered about it late at night til your face was hot and you were flustered at the imagination of what it’d feel to be closer to Sannie in a different way…

Gently, San helped you sit comfortably on his lap, supporting your back as he kissed you, tasting the sweetness of your lips that had a hint of metallic taste from the small cut on your lower lip. He’d kiss away all your cuts and bruises if you’d let him. He’d kiss them to make you forget the pain.

San was still holding back though.

He didn’t want to do anything you didn’t want.

But the way you had begun to kiss him back with the same need as he did, only made it harder for him to not lose himself.

Pulling away reluctantly, he looked at you. Your pretty lashes fluttered so prettily as you blinked dreamily at him, your lips were a glistening pink and your cheeks were glowing.

What made San fall even harder in that moment was the way you shyly looked away when he had been staring.

“Sannie…” you murmured, squeezing his shoulders nervously and completely aware that you were sitting on his lap, straddling him.

You just had your first kiss. San had just kissed you.

“Can I touch you?”

You felt your ears grow hot. “Aren’t you already?” You murmured. His hands were already on your waist and when they weren’t there they were in your hair or caressing your face.

“Let me rephrase that,” He chuckled and pressed his lips onto the corner of your mouth. “Can I…” he kissed your cheek, each kiss making warmth bloom wherever they touched you. “Touch…” He caressed the curve of your spine, your lower back tingling at the gentle touch. “All of you?”

“Y-yes.” You had uttered out so quickly and softly, that you felt embarrassed. You didn’t even think twice.

“You can touch me too,” San began to kiss along the column of your neck, the sensation making you shiver. “You can touch me however you want, Y/N.” He gripped your hips just a little bit tighter, enjoying the way you cutely squirmed.

“Sannie,” you softly called out to him, making him part from your neck which he had been kissing and licking.

His brows rose at your call, waiting for whatever you needed to say but in all honesty, you just needed to feel his lips on yours again.

So without a word, you cradled San’s handsome face in both hands before crashing your lips onto his, surprising not only him but also yourself at how greedy you had become. You didn’t know you could feel such sensations and the kiss just sparked a flame you never knew could come alive, and now that it was lit, it began to burn.

“T-touch me,” you whispered desperately between kisses, his own lips hungrily kissing you back.

San felt as if he was dreaming when those words slipped past your lips and even more so how prettily you moaned when caressed the underside of your breast with his thumb. He was surprised with how sensitive you were. You were still in your cat suit and yet you reacted so quickly to his touch.

His lips and your lips messily danced with desperation to drink each other's heat and passion. Your own hands had begun to tug at his armored protective suit while he also made quick work of your catsuit. San not wanting to leave the warmth of your lips, took his time to unzip the front of your suit. He wanted to be gentle with you despite the lust that was burning him from the inside out he just wanted to feel you and make you feel.

His lips finally left yours only to attack your neck with hot kisses, making you moan out softly. Gently he laid you on the worn-out mattress, parting from you completely so he could kneel between your thighs. Your eyes remained on him as he removed his protective vest, discarding it somewhere in the room before he peeled off his long sleeve over his head. His muscular chiseled body was illuminated by the moonlight, every ridge and ripple of muscle was accentuated by the shadows of the room. You felt a familiar heat pool in your lower body the more you stared at San’s physique and you blushed and turned away when he caught you staring.

The edge of San’s mouth twitched into a small smile, finding your timidness to be rather adorable. He liked how flustered you became because of him. San reached for your hips to pull you closer, your eyes widening when he did.

San found the zipper of your catsuit again, his heart thrumming in his chest as he slowly pulled it down. His breathing grew heavy as yours quickened with how the suit slowly opened revealing glimpses of your naked skin beneath. The rise and fall of your chest along with the sight of the valley of your breasts and hints of your body before him, made his throat dry.

He wanted to take his time but at the same time, his long infatuation that had turned to something more over the years made it difficult.

When the cold air kissed your bare skin, you felt your nipples pebble and harden against the fabric of the suit, making you want to rub your thighs together but that was impossible when San was knelt between your thighs.

“Can I keep going?” He asked you, pausing the pull of your zipper before it could go lower than your belly button. He searched for any uneasiness in your eyes but instead, he found such a sweet yet sinful look in them.

You nodded. “Y-yes, please.”

Gently, he helped you slip your arms out of the suit, his breath hitching at the sight of your bare pretty breasts bouncing free as he bunched the specialized Kevlar-like fabric at your waist. His palms were at least a micro-centimeter away from your skin. Almost afraid and hesitant to truly feel you. An assassin without their suit was just as deadly as them having one but with you, he felt as if without it, you were just a woman. A woman who wanted to be loved…a woman he loved.

Kissing you drove him crazy enough but to get to touch you? He’s going to crumble.

It seemed you had noticed his hesitation and driven by your silent desire, you took his hand and splayed fingers and pressed his palm over the middle of your chest, close to where your heart would be.

You didn’t say a word as his eyes snapped to meet yours. All it told him was that this was consensual, that you wanted him to touch you, and that he could keep going.

If this was truly yours and his last night in this world, none of you wanted to hold back.

“Sannie…” his heart stopped when you softly called out his name. Your eyes looked into his as if he brought you peace, there was no turmoil nor anxiety in them. The cold and dark blankness that they held when you’re on a mission or on Academy grounds was absent.

Right here, before him was just you. The young girl he once knew that the Academy caged and programmed to be a weapon in their beck and call, a woman who did not have the time to love or be loved, nor was allowed to. But if you were to tell him you were incapable of loving, he’d prove to you that you were wrong.

Maybe you didn’t know it then but the compassion you had shown him during your trainee days when he was nothing but the runt of the litter of kids with no future chosen by the Academy to be given a chance, that in its own way was love.

The way you stuck by him, took time to check if he was okay and to defend him from higher ranking assassins, even if it was platonic or more, it was love.

You slipped your fingers into his, intertwining them.

“Keep going.”

There was a hint of sadness in your smile despite the way you looked so longingly at him as if he were the warm shining sun.

He continued to unravel you. Gently, he rolled the fabric to slip past your hips. Despite your line of work, your skin was close to perfect in his eyes. No deep scars nor wounds that left a memory of your missions plus the Academy took good care of their favorites.

But the sight before him proved him wrong.

His heart dropped into his stomach and he felt your hand squeeze his.

Below your belly button and not fully hidden by the waistband of your black underwear, a long jagged scar curved along your lower abdomen. The scar was healed but it left its mark. It sickly smiled at him in a deeper shade than your complexion with pinkish hues.

“W-what is this?” He held your hip gently, his thumb caressing your hipbone afraid to touch that area skin, should you not like it.

He felt his heart break when you only looked at him sadly. “Y/N, w-what is this?” He croaked out hoarsely, his heart breaking when you looked at him that way and continued to hold his hand in yours.

“My graduation.”

The world stopped and he heard nothing but a dull ringing in his ears.

The Academy.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it didn’t matter. Why should I speak of something that I could never get back.”

“D-don’t talk like that. Y/N you should’ve told me.”

You sat up, heart breaking when you heard his voice crack. San didn’t even realize that tears were falling from his eyes as he stared at that mocking smiling scar. Just when he thought the Academy couldn’t take any more from you, they took everything.

Well, almost everything. But not him. They were not taking him away from you. Never.

“Sannie, don’t cry.” You smiled, wiping his tears away. “I didn’t tell you 'cause I knew you’d cry.” You took a deep breath, finally telling your closest friend of so many years the secret you’ve kept from him. “This is why you should leave the Academy and live a life you truly deserve. You have a chance for a future you want. Mine…well…mine was taken from me. It was a silly dream I had when we were kids.”

“When we spent time around the towns and I’d see people getting married and having families, I thought I could have that. I thought I was going to marry you and have a family. At twelve years old.” You laughed softly at the childhood memory. “At twelve years old, I looked at you, my best friend, and thought ‘I’m going to marry San’ and that we’re going to be as happy as the families I’ve seen. That I would have a child and give them the life I never had…but then the Academy happened.”

San’s tears streamed down his handsome face and you held his face in your hands once more, making him look at you.

“I don’t want to think about that tonight. I don’t want to think about what I went through to stay alive.” You leaned down to kiss his jaw and your breath was hot against his ear as you uttered words that shattered his heart even more. “So don’t touch me like I’m made of glass. You can’t break something that’s already broken. Make me forget, Sannie.”

You kissed him again then took his hand that was on your hip and guided it to cup your breast, your body tingling and warming at the touch. The simple gesture told him one thing. Throw caution out the window. Nothing else mattered now except you and him. If both of you were going to die tomorrow, you both wanted to feel love and act on desires that both of you held back on.

Driven by the love he harbored for you for so long, he attacked your neck with heated kisses and caressed your bare torso with such a need to feel your skin.

Your warmth and your scent, he could die in it.

Sloppily, he licked and nibbled at the juncture of your neck and shoulder before going lower, and hungrily taking the soft peak of your breast into his hot mouth.

You gasped and moaned at the sudden and new sensation, your body tingling over and your hips mindlessly grinding on San’s thigh. You shivered at the spark of friction and loosely wrapped your arms around his head, your fingers combing through his hair as his tongue flicked and swirled over your sensitive nipple while his other hand gave your other breast attention. He squeezed and massaged them just as greedy as his mouth was latched onto your right tit.

Soon, clothes were haphazardly thrown away and you were on your back completely on display for San’s eyes and his eyes only. The coldness of the room was forgotten as your bodies began to burn with lust and yours continued to grow hotter as he kissed along your inner thigh, his slit cat-like predatory gaze never leaving your face.

Your thigh was hooked over his left shoulder and San took his time kissing your soft plush thighs, nipping and biting where he wanted and enjoying the way you squirmed and trembled. But when he came face to face with your pretty pink pussy before him, he felt like he could cum untouched.

His gaze was hot as he stared at your core and you wanted to close your thighs but it was impossible with San’s position. He rested his hand over your lower belly as he licked his lips.

“You’re dripping,” he said lowly, eying your slick pink folds and your little pulsing hole that pushed more arousal out the more he teased you. He brushed his thumb over your clit and your hips bucked.

Fuck, he swore to himself. You were so sensitive.

Biting his lip, he collected your arousal and messily spread it all over your cunt. You could feel the warm sticky slick over your skin and you only grew more needy for his touch. You’ve touched yourself plenty of times when you needed to…but it was different when it was someone else, it was different that it was San.

“Fuck,” he hissed softly, feeling how wet you were and how easily his thumb was able to circle around your sensitive clit, enjoying the reactions he was eliciting from you. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You nodded, shamelessly.

“Have you ever been touched here?” He asked, wondering if you were like the other assassins who deal with their desires by sleeping with another assassin. If you answered yes, he’d be jealous. He’s already jealous at the thought of someone else being as close as he was to you right now.

But your answer was more than he expected.

“N-no. Just me.” You breathily replied, biting back a moan when he pressed a little more as he massaged your clit in slow languid circles.

“Yeah? Just you? All alone?”

“Mhm Hm.” You bit your lip, your hips bucking into his hand for more.

You were driving him crazy. He was imagining you touching yourself in your room. Pretty little hand in your panties playing with yourself underneath the covers and biting back your moans like you were right now.

“You know…there’s something better than just your fingers,” he inched closer, his breath fanning over your pussy, the heat of it making you clench around nothing. He hooked his arms underneath your thighs to hold you down and keep your hips still.

“Your fingers?” You guessed, blinking at him and watching his every move. You found it rather embarrassing that he was this close to your intimate area.

“Definitely,” he chuckled at your response. “But not that, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of your pubic bone. “Something even better.”

Before you could ask what, his pink tongue peeked from his lips and licked a long stripe from your dripping hole and up your clit. You moaned at the feeling, squirming in his hold. Not one second did his eyes leave yours, the intensity of them made you need him more, and when he slowly flicked his tongue around your clit, tasting you, the pleasure went straight to your head.

“A-ah, Sannie,” you gasped but it didn’t end there.

As he had done with your breast, he latched his hot lips onto your core and began tasting you.

San moaned against your pussy at the sweet taste of your cunt, slurping and hungrily licking at your arousal as if he didn’t want to let a single drop go to waste.

It was downright dirty. Pornographic.

He kissed and made out with your core like he had with your lips. You never knew that you could feel such mind-numbing pleasure like this. His tongue was so hot and his lips were so soft, and just when you thought it couldn’t get better, you felt the tip of his finger tease your entrance.

It was almost too much.

You gripped his dark hair and tugged when you felt him slip a digit inside of you. His finger was thicker than yours, longer too. A rush of arousal washed over you when you heard him moan against your pussy when you pulled his hair.

“You’re so wet, fuck. You taste so good.” He briefly left your clit then licked at the pearl before saying. “My finger slipped in so easily, sweetheart. I think you can take another one already. Can’t you?”

“Y-yes. San, please. I-I need more. Please.” You panted breathlessly. Just as you asked, he delivered.

He added another finger into your hole, slowly slipping them in and losing his fucking mind at how tight you were sucking his digits in. He could only imagine how heavenly it must feel when it was his cock instead.

“So fucking tight, sweetheart.” He bit his lip, slowly beginning to pump his fingers in and out of you, his fingers completely covered in your slick. “You like that, darling? Love how my fingers are filling you up?”

You nodded, gripping the mattress below you as your hips moved on their own, and words you’ve never thought you’d say out loud slipped past your lips. “W-want to feel you deeper. M-more please.”

San could only smile at your reaction before he latched his mouth again onto your clit while fingers curled inside of you. You swore at how easily he found that spot you desperately tried to find on your own in the privacy of your room. His fingers were thicker and your chaste walls welcomed them so easily. The way he touched you and pleasured you felt so good, you didn’t care about the lewd squelching sounds your pussy made as he fucked his fingers into you. You could even feel your arousal drip from your hole and onto the mattress.

His eyes were peacefully closed shut as he tasted you. It was as if he was savoring every single bit of you and this kind of attention was making a familiar warmth bloom in your chest.

“S-San, w-wait, I-I’m,” you stuttered out, feeling your core tighten, the familiar sensation of being on that edge far more intense than when you touched yourself alone.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay,” he murmured against your core, releasing your overstimulated clit with a soft wet pop. “Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Something about what he said and how he flicked his tongue against your clit as his fingers mercilessly pumped and curled inside of you, sent you over the edge. You gasped as your hips trembled and your walls convulsed around his fingers, your climax making you shake and your mind go blank momentarily.

San hummed deeply, the vibration of the sound along with how he slowly lapped your release and moved his lips as he did, made some part of your brain melt.

He couldn’t get enough and he quite literally was acting as if this was his last meal on earth.

“S-Sannie, wait—ah!” He prolonged your organs with his lazy kisses and languid kitten licks.

Once he had gotten enough (though he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough), he parted from your lower lips to look at you through hooded eyes full of hunger and lust. It made your heart race.

With his eyes locked on yours, he thought his two fingers that had been inside of your heat to his lips and licked your essence off of it, a sudden heat passing through your body at the visual.

“You taste like heaven, sweetheart.” He moaned deeply, taking his time to taste you on his fingers.

“H-how about you?” You asked, your voice breathy and higher than its usual tone.

He caressed your thighs, lovingly as you came down from your high. “What about me sweetheart?”

Your hands caressed his toned stomach, tracing the lines of his abs and stopping before the waistband of his briefs.

“Do I get to taste you?”

San’s cock throbbed at your question that sounded so innocent from your lips. He wants to make this all about you but you were making it difficult for him to not be selfish and focus on making you feel good.

Still lightheaded from your orgasm, you sat up and crawled to San, the man before you gulping at the visual of you on your knees and seeing the beautiful shape of your back, it was like looking at a cat. You knelt by him, meeting his height before placing your hands on his shoulders and moving him to sit on the mattress with his back against the wall.

“I want to taste you, Sannie.” You purred, sitting a top of your folded legs, his own legs spread to make room for you.

He raised a brow watching you, amused at your actions. Even like this, he looked so attractive.

San smiled softly at you and caressed your cheek as you looked at him with round wide eyes. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

You nodded, experimentally teasing the imprint of his length in his briefs. His breath hitched at the mere touch of your fingertips, his excitement making his thighs tense.

“Teach me how?” You looked at him through your lashes and the sweet determined look you had turned him on even more.

You were rather shy that you asked him to show you but little did you know, that just sent his mind places. Was he really your first?

Curiously, you palmed his length making a shaky breath leave him. “Did that feel good Sannie?”

“F-fuck… y-yes. It felt good sweetheart.”

“Can I take it off?” You tugged at the waistband lightly and he nodded eagerly.

You pulled down his boxers and once the garment was down past his hips, his cock sprung free from its confines. It slapped against his hard abdomen and you felt your mouth water at the sight.

Not knowing what it’d do to him, you slowly wrapped your hand around his length to gauge his size and San hissed at the warmth of your soft palm. He was hot and stiff, and the pink head was glistening with a slick liquid. With your other hand, your fingertips spread his precum all over the bulbous round tip.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re torturing me.” He groaned the more you massaged this sensitive tip.

You felt your core tingle at the sight of his furrowed brows and his parted lips as you touched him. You wanted to make him feel good too.

“What do you want me to do, Sannie?” Your voice was so sweet.

“F-fuck, baby, spit on it a-and then wrap your pretty hand around me, okay?” His hand gently cupped the back of your neck.

A little hesitant but doing as he said, you spat on his cock, and the dirty sound and act of it made his cock twitch. You were guessing that you should spread it around and when he hummed, it told you, you were doing something right.

“Such a good girl, sweetheart.” He cooed. “Now wrap your hand around me. Fuuuck. Just like that.”

Feeling excited with all the praise he was giving, you kissed his neck slowly, doing as he did to you earlier.

“M-move your hand up and down, sweetheart.”

“O-okay.”

Your saliva mixed with his precum gave lubrication for you to easily glide your hand up and down his shaft.

“That’s it, baby. That feels so good. Fuck.” He moaned. “Come here, let me kiss you.”

You do as he says and kiss with his, moving your lips with his, and your core clenched when you could taste a sweet yet slightly salty flavor on your lips. Was that you? The fact you were tasting yourself on his lips turned you on.

The two of you stayed like that; making out while your hand pumped his cock, feeling his girth and his length. You couldn’t help but wonder how he’d feel inside of you but you wanted to taste him first like you said.

You pulled away from his lips and they pouted at the loss of them but he couldn’t stay disappointed for long, not when your tongue just did a kitten lick on his sensitive tip.

“Fuck, sweetheart, are you really sure?” He moaned, not wanting to force you. He was happy enough that you had been jerking him off. You really didn’t have to return the favor if you didn’t want to.

“Mhm.” You hummed, following your instincts and taking his leaking tip in your mouth, while your hand continued to move up and down his shaft.

His taste made your head spin and your clit throb. You liked the taste of him, it was a little salty but it was just him.

“Shit-,” he threw his head back, his other hand gripping the mattress as you licked and suckled at his tip. “That feels so good. Fuck. Don’t stop. Such a good girl using your pretty mouth on me. Do I taste good?”

You hummed so cutely as a yes. God, he’d do anything for you. How were you this cute?

“Do you think you can take more of my cock in your mouth? You think you can take it?”

His dirty talk made you even wetter and you were sure that you were dripping at this point.

Could you take it? There was only one way to find out.

Breathing through your nose and flattening out your tongue, you slipped his cock deeper almost choking when the hot tip touched the back of your throat but you against your gag reflex and tried to mimic what your hand had been doing. You slowly moved your head up and down, bobbing rhythmically on his cock.

San moaned breathily. This was your first time taking cock in your mouth? “You’re a fucking natural, baby. Fuck. That feels good. You look so pretty like this. Could cum just watching you.”

What you couldn’t take in your mouth, you made up for with your hand, earning more moans from San. You liked this. You liked making him feel good. You liked having his cock inside your mouth, you wanted to taste more than his cock.

You wanted more.

“Fuck,” he swore when he felt you bravely take a little deeper, feeling the way the start of your throat constricted at the intrusion of his cock. “Sweetheart, if you keep doing that—,”

You bobbed your head faster, not caring that you were making such lewd slurping and sucking sounds. He had done the same for you and at that moment you understood why he had enjoyed tasting you.

San’s thighs began to clench and his core tightened further. His knuckles were turning white at how hard he was gripping the mattress in one hand while the other grabbed your ass, making you yelp and take more of him deeper in your throat, which pushed him over the edge.

There was a cute surprised squeak that came from you which was the cherry on top of him spilling his load inside your mouth. Your eyes widened as you felt his hot release go down your throat and they fluttered close as you savored the taste of him.

San was losing it when he felt your throat move as you swallowed his cum. He didn’t know you were going to do that. What’s making his head spin further and making his hazy orgasmic bliss last longer was how you kept him inside your mouth, just the tip, and licking the slit of his cock head.

You pulled away, his cock falling on his stomach, still hard and you sat so cutely in between his legs as he panting and coming down from his high.

You wiped the edge of your mouth and licked what was left of him on your lips.

“Sannie tastes good.”

You didn’t know you had said that out loud in such a soft manner that made San swoon.

San like a cat, pounced on you.

He was once again all over you. Your back was against the mattress as he found his place between your thighs. You eyed his cock, still hard and glistening from when it had been in your mouth. Your walls clenched when San wrapped his own hand around his pretty cock and pressed the head against your clit making you whimper.

San rubbed the tip of his cock through your slit, spreading your slick and coating himself with it. You were so drenched that it was driving him crazy, he wanted to bury his cock deep inside you so bad but when his eyes met the long scar smiling from one hip bone to the other. He wanted to take his time. For you.

“Y/N,” he said softly, holding your hips with care. Even though you told him that he couldn’t break what was broken, he wouldn’t want to think of breaking you. In fact, he wanted to make you feel full, whole, and complete. He wanted to care for you in a way you deserved. “Am I your first?”

The sudden question threw you off. It made you realize that he was going to be your first. Concepts like those shouldn’t matter to you especially since you didn’t have the time to think of such a thing.

“Y-yes…” you admitted, relaxing a little. “You’re the first person to ever kiss me too. I want you to be my first, Sannie.” Your heart was aching while your body burned for him. “And if this is our last night alive, I wouldn’t have imagined anyone else being my first and my last. I’m glad…it’s you.”

San didn’t know if this was the right time to say the three words he’d been dying to say to you for so long. “For me…” he slowly moved his hips, rubbing his length between your slick folds, making your face relax into that flushed blissful expression.

“It’s always been you.”

You didn’t have time to think or question what that meant. Not when the tip of his cock teased at your entrance, just pressing against it.

Slowly, he let the head pop inside your cunt, both of you gasping. The girth of his cock stretched you out more than you could ever with your two fingers and there was a slight sting as he entered, making you bite your lip and whimper.

But he was attentive.

San intertwined his fingers with yours while his other hand held your hip still as he slowly, little by little, inch by inch, pushed his cock deeper into your tight wet heat. The velvety warmth of your walls made his head spin and the way they hugged his cock was heaven. The carnal part inside of him wanted nothing more than to thrust deeply into you and have you falling apart for him.

“S-Sannie, m-more.”

He growled lowly. Despite this being your first time, the wetness of your heat made his cock slip in so easily. Both of you watched as his cock split your lower lips apart and how his length slowly disappeared into you. You were bewildered that San was inside of you. You never knew just how badly you wanted to be close to him until tonight.

The circumstances were dire, it was hopeless but you had him.

“I want to feel more.” You squeezed his hand as he pushed his hips a little further. “Y-you’re so thick.”

San must be dreaming.

You brought your free hand over your mouth as the sensation of being filled up was such a pleasure you’ve never felt before. It was too much and not enough at the same time.

“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart. You’re doing so well.”

He cooed and praised you for each inch you took of him and there was something about the heat of him inside you, spreading apart your chaste walls that made your thighs shiver as he bottomed out.

San let out a long exhale, cursing as he felt his whole length be snuggly embraced by your velvety warm walls. He could even feel your arousal coat him and drip out of your entrance. He was ascending. He was the closest he could ever get to the person he’s only ever seen as the love of his life.

You looked so beautiful before him. How could you be so bashful yet exuding such allure? Your hand squeezed his as you adjusted to his cock inside of you, he could even feel the way your walls squeeze and contracted as you did. Fuck. He was your first. The first man to ever have the privilege to be this close to you, to feel you, and to see you in a state so vulnerable that you hid from everyone.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” San asked, massaging your hips to help you relax. You were squeezing him so tight. “Does it hurt?”

His sweet voice and the care in them made your heart crack. What did you do to deserve someone like Choi San?

“N-not really. It’s just…new.” You whimpered when the head of his cock that was in your mouth earlier was snug against your cervix. “I-I can feel you.”

That made San’s head spin. “Y-yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, holding his hand and looking into his eyes. “I…feel…you.”

Each word held so much weight and emotion that San couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and crashing his lips on yours. He could feel you too and he loved the feeling of you. He drew his hips back just a little, slowly giving you shallow thrusts to get you used to him. You gasped at the sensation of his cock gliding and scraping your walls, the friction so sinfully and mind-numbingly good.

San continued to kiss you, his tongue delving into your warm wet mouth, the two of you kissing messily as his cock eased its way out of your walls leaving only the tip in. You squirmed. The first taste of the motion of his length inside you sparked a rush that felt addicting and when he easily slid back into you again, it confirmed that growing addiction.

“S-Sannie!” You cried out, arms wrapping around him, holding onto him as he stroked your walls deeply.

“F-fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.” He groaned, burying his face into your neck, kissing the spots he hadn’t marked with love bites.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, your lust mixing with greed as you needed more of the feeling that San was giving you. You’ve never felt so much in your time of being alive. It was new. It was something you never had before.

The deep passionate rolls of hips with every intention to make you feel pleasure, the hot kisses on your neck, the sweet nothings he’d whisper, and the gentle caresses on your body. It made you dizzy, you’ve never lost yourself in something so…euphoric.

As San continued to glide his cock in and out of your tight heat, with his forehead against your chest, his eyes met that scar on below your belly once more, his heart aching. Why did they take that away from you? It was so cruel of them.

His emotions were all mixed up. You two might not live to see another day after this night and the two of you acting on your emotions and passions that had been suppressed for so long were both overwhelming. Plus the truth of what happened to you during your Academy days hurt him.

All he knew was he wanted to you to feel all of him. To make you feel his love and desire for you with every touch, every kiss, and every strong drive of his hips.

The passion and the way you two had been showing it to one another became more carnal as the lust muddled both your brains with nothing but unspoken love and the need to just fuck.

San’s hips picked up their pace. He thrusted and drove into you so deeply, each scrape and glide of his length inside you made his fat cock head kiss your cervix and pound into that one spot that sent you shivering and moaning.

San liked those sounds of yours. Accompanied by the lewd wet squelching and the sound of skin slapping against skin, it was driving him crazy.

“You feel that, sweetheart?” He placed his palm just below where your scar was, where he was fucking you. “That’s me.”

“C-can feel you, Sannie! Oh god,” you cried out, nails digging into his back. You could feel him waking up every fiber of your being with pleasure. “Want to feel more of you. D-don’t stop, please. Want you. I want you.” You were rambling mindlessly too lost in the pleasure, too lost in the heat of his thick cock filling you up.

“I won’t stop, baby. Can’t stop. I need you so bad. You need me to right? Fuck,” he felt you squeeze him tighter. “I’ll make you feel good, Y/N.” He moved his palm lower to find your sensitive pearl all puffy and sticky with your arousal.

Your back arched into him as he massaged your clit.

“You look so beautiful,” he whispered, fucking you til you both get your fill. Even if you both came now, he doesn’t think he’ll have enough of you. He wanted to fuck you so passionately. He wanted to drink what he could of you as this might just be your last night together. “Are you close, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes!” You croaked out, panting with each thrust of his cock. “W-wanna cum, Sannie. P-please.”

“Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll make you cum. I’ll fucking make you cum.” He growled, his hips picking up their pace. Your mouth fell open. The new pace had his cock hitting your g-spot at such a rapid pace you couldn’t think at all. All you knew was you wanted him to keep fucking you.

“H-harder. Need to feel you deeper.” You whined, hugging him close and your words only made the man before you go feral.

The snap of his hips shook your whole body with pleasure that only crescendoed your bliss further into euphoria. That tight knot within your tummy was reaching its limit. With how San was moaning and groaning against your neck, and how his fingers on your clit glided so easily with your slick was sending you over the edge.

You chanted his name over and over so breathlessly, your nails digging deeper into San’s back.

Snap!

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as your walls clamped down around San, your thighs and hips convulsing uncontrollably as pleasure swooped through your body. You couldn’t help the way your nails clawed down his back which made the man before you moan brokenly as his hips stilled and glued against you.

Heat began to fill your walls and your womb as you came hard. San’s thigh muscles were taut as he emptied what he could into you. It was driving him crazy. Your walls were sucking him in a way where his cum just kept flowing til he had nothing more to give you.

“S-Sa—,” you didn’t have to finish calling out for him before he leaned forward to capture your lips. The kiss was slow and lingering…it was gentle and deep.

“I’ve got you,” he said briefly leaving the kiss to take a moment to straighten his back to look at you before him.

You were glowing. Your beautiful skin was covered with a thin sheen of sweat that made you glisten beneath the moonlight and your face was flushed. Your eyes looked up at him hazily, blinking prettily as you were still in your high. His eyes then drifted to where the two of you were still connected. Your puffy lips were split around his cock and you couldn’t help but look down there too.

Slowly, he slid himself out inch by inch. You whimpered at the loss of fullness but when you saw the pink cock head slip out and his length slam against his abdomen coated in your slick and pearly white release? Your walls clenched around nothing. With his thumb, he pulled one of your lower lips gently to get a good look at your pink pussy and his eyes darkened once more when he saw his cum leak out your pulsing hole.

San spread his release all over your pussy, his cat-like eyes curious and staring deeply at where he ‘marked’ you in his way.

“M-more.”

Did he imagine that?

“S-Sannie,” you spread your lips apart for him, making him swallow the lump in his throat. His eyes went to your face, his head spinning when you looked at him with such want and need. Could you look at him like that forever? “M-more. Need to feel you more.”

With San….you never had to ask him twice.

With the same passion and desire as he did earlier if not more, he was on you again. This time the two of you didn’t care about being gentle. You two were desperate for one another. Utterly desperate.

Then you found yourself locked against San with his arm around your waist, your back pressing against his body as he fucked deeply into you without thought. Your bodies were sticky as your shared heat kept you both hot, the cold forgotten as he pounded into you.

You moaned over and over for him, the sound a beautiful melody to his ears.

“I-I don’t think I can stop.” He rasped against your ear, slamming his pelvis against your ass filling your cunt up to the brim with his cock. “I don’t want to stop,” San growled while you cried as he slammed particularly deep, the new position making him reach that spongy spot inside you so fucking easily.

He’s gonna make love to you til you both are absolutely spent. Til he was empty and til you fell apart and had enough of him.

In that little walled-off prison you two were in, the two of you indulged in ways you both could never have during your time in the Academy. Boundaries they programmed into you were broken, lines were crossed and two beating hearts were fully awakened…and for the first time, truly, alive.

Then…when it was done…when that night passed and dawn broke. Those two hearts remained in each other’s arms, embracing one another as they feared for what the morrow would bring.

Not knowing that San would have to keep the promise he kept you.

“You deserve more than this life. You should be able to live freely and to love freely. Leave all this behind. Leave me behind.”

But he wasn’t going to leave you behind.

He could never.

-- feel free to scream in my askbox!

TAGLIST : @endeav0rsb1tch @eastleighsblog @scarfac3 @deadgirlwalking3 @ddaeing @lexiigom @lesyeuxdeanna @ja3hwa @prettyjewel93 @dear-dreamie @ashrocker123 @kookibuns @i2hyun0 @kpopismyescape23 @alex-tinyy @hyukssunflower @honeypaintedskies @jinnieboosworld @dawn-iscozy @moonchildushine @asjkdk @voicesinmyhead-rc @not-everything-is-so-primitive @atinytinaa @songmingisthighs @sanniesbum @angellluh @teenyfinds @vannabanana1995 @huachengsbestie01 @lovinghologramtrash @anxiousskylar @megseungmin @chnt1 @dezmybelovedddd @khuyyn @trippoverrt @liniiiaa @caityelise99 @mismatchfluffysocks @venn-ie @unlikelysublimekryptonite @staytinyville @tinybada @awkward-fucking-thing @bloomingsann @cheesemonky @nakiiko @littlestarwoo @sharksandminhos

[eqt-95]

there were too many beds

prompt came from this reverse trope list. (thanks anon for suggesting it be pulled into a standalone post)

- - - - -

There were too many beds.

There were too many beds.

Kara scanned the room: two, four, six, seven beds.

Sevens of them. All done up with pillows and over-starched fabric and tiny brochures translated into broken English with a map of local attractions splattered from inch to inch.

When she'd persuaded Lena to live out her dream of a four-week backpacking European holiday, she never expected there to be so many beds. Hostel after hostel with 'private' rooms filled with beds. It was perfectly roomy which was exactly the problem. Kara had daydreamed of a closet-sized room tightly packed with a single double bed, a tiny nightstand and, maybe if they were lucky, a private bathroom.

What she didn't expect was Lena plans-ahead Luthor booking out an entire 'group' of beds at each location.

"It'll give us guaranteed privacy," Lena explained when Kara flushed at the bundle of euros being slipped across the counter city after city.

Because that was the other thing: Kara had just come out. As Supergirl. And for as much as she liked to pretend everything was normal, everything was not normal. They could barely enjoy their plates of cicchetti in Venice without being barraged with onlookers. Their walk through Gaudi's masterpiece was ruined by slack-jawed observers gawking at Kara in civilian clothes. And now, in the city of love itself, Kara's romantic plans of a blanketed dinner in front of the Eiffel Tower was ruined by one nosy teenager with a social media following.

And now they were back, dinner ruined, a half-eaten baguette in one hand and the remaining drags of a perfectly delicious bottom-shelf bottle of red in the other. It was terrible. It was awful. It was not going at all like Kara wanted or planned or hoped.

Still Lena smiled. She knowingly leaned into Kara with each spontaneous combustion of crowds. She squeezed a hand reassuringly and chuckled when the wildest requests were made for autographs and signatures and "can we see the suit?". Tiny reminders of "it's ok, darling," were whispered through a crowd while an adoring smile settled Kara's stewing frustration.

"Everything ok?" Lena asked, one hand disappeared into her overflowing backpack.

"Hm? Oh, yea," Kara replied. A blush crept over her cheeks and a distracted hand scratched at her neck. "Just tired I guess."

"It'll pass. Soon you'll be able to walk down the street and be a nobody just like me," Lena offered with a sympathetic smile. And then there it was; there it came: a quick squeeze of Kara's forearm followed by the light trace of a kiss on Kara's cheek. "Thank you for an amazing day."

And then it was gone as quick as it came with the bathroom door squeaking shut.

And still, there were seven beds.

Seven.

Beds.

Now, what happened next is up for some debate. To the desk clerk, it might have sounded like a robbery. To Lena Luthor, one threshold away, it sounded like Kara was having one of her early-aughts inspired dance sessions. Kara herself would explain she'd seen a black widow. An army of black widows when an amused Lena pressed.

"Not bedbugs?" Lena asked, surveying the damage and stepping over a smoking mattress.

"Uh... coulda-coulda been?" Kara said, flushed and dry-mouthed.

"Mhm, well then we couldn't possibly sleep here tonight-"

"Black widows. It was definitely a fleet of black widows. Not a bedbug in sight actually-"

"A fleet?" Lena pressed, barely containing a grin and dropping her day clothes onto her completely unscathed, pristine backpack.

Kara nodded. She nodded with vigor and superspeed.

"I see," Lena continued, plopping onto the mattress.

How exactly it happened didn't really matter. All that mattered was that, in the span of time it took Lena to brush her teeth and change into soft sweats and Kara's old NCU t-shirt, six beds had been destroyed.

"I guess we'll just have to share, won't we, darling?"

[lya-dustin]

Kinslayer, Kingslayer, King

For @hoosbandewan

Aemond x Aegon’s wife! Laenor's daughter!reader(aka a black reader)

Cw: murder, fraticide, regicide, conspiracy, manipulation, infanticide(blood and cheese happened sorry), revenge, whatever murdering your husband is called. Some smut and knife play.

The reader came out rather evil and i love it

You play the dutiful wife all too well.

How could you not when you pretended to be the loyal daughter only to turn on the woman who birthed you for a crown?

Rhaenyra had deserved it, she killed your father to be with Daemon and then named your bastard brother heir over you, her only trueborn child and firstborn. Then there was what she allowed Daemon to do to your only child that night.

Aegon deserved it too, he never knew the woman he had and now he wouldn’t have you nor his crown either. Aegon who took everything for granted and then some more. He had taken you even if Aemond was the one you loved since you were children.

As far as you know, Aegon was the one who killed Rhaenys at Rook’s Rest.

Aemond will finally have what was owed to him.

“It looks better on you than it did, who would’ve thought Aegon’s head would be too small for such a burden.” You whisper as you light a candle to the Stranger.

Orwyle is too vigilant and good at his craft to allow the two of you the chance to finish the job, but nature will take its course soon enough. The moment he is dead, Aemond will seize the crown and you will be his in truth.

Once Aegon is dealt with and his mother put away to keep her from interfering with your glorious reign, you will rain fire and blood on your darling mother and her husband.

Jaehaerys had been killed by Daemon just as he once ordered the death of your father, Ser Laenor. Aemond wonders if Daemon knew the true parentage of the boy seeing he went after him in the first place. Perhaps the man did and that is why your sweet little son was beheaded in his sleep along with his nurse.

You want blood and to salt their wounds as they beg for mercy you will not give.

Aemond will give you another son, one who will not have Aegon named as his father, one that will be king after him. You have always wanted to name your son Aemon. A tribute to your grandmother, to your lineage, and most importantly a reminder that your claim was superior even to that of his dearly departed father.

Viserys and Aegon ruled because of the Great Council, but by tradition the throne should have passed to you had Rhaenys not been passed over for his father.

“Once your mourning period is over, we will be wed and crowned together. Grandsire should’ve have crowned you with him, those loyal to you would have come to our side and your mother left with no choice to surrender.” Aemond will keep this promise, he will not deny you what you are owed. Aegon had not cared about the insult to you, he never cared to respect you and keep his vows and always caved to their manipulative grandfather’s pressures.

Aemond was not weak like him, he rode the largest dragon, he was the true threat to your mother’s crumbling rule and his brother’s underserved crown.

His mother may hate him, but he had you. You who shared his drive and anger and loved him to his bones.

You forgave him for killing your brother, you understood it was an accident in his part, you will forgive him for killing Rhaenys to kill his brother.

“Six moons is too long, my love, I want to wed you now.” You kissed him with great passion, your loss had ignited a fire inside you so hot you no longer knew what to do with it. “I want a son; I need your seed to take once more. Daemon may have won the battle, but I will win this fucking war.”

“No, my darling, we will win this fucking war.” The Prince Regent does not deny you your desires and in the hour of the Wolf you threaten the handmaiden caring for Aegon that night to make his poppy milk strong enough to fell an elephant.

By morning you are a widow, by noon his mother is sent to Oldtown and by the end of the week the two of you are wedded and bedded.

You do not wear black or green, you wear red. Blood red and cut so low it was considered too scandalous for his pious mother. But no matter, those who speak against you will have to voice their complaints with your dragons, and your new husband was the most fearsome of the three.

The fear they have of the two of you keeps tongues from wagging, his mother looks horrified as you lick the dagger he feeds you the best of his plate like a brazen whore.

Alicent’s rule was over, yours had only just begun.

“A dragon cannot change it’s scales,” you use his own dagger to tease him, straddling him and riding him with a torturous pace.

“It is merely our nature.” The new king groans as the cold of the dagger trailing down his throat heightens his own pleasure. He wanted to take his time with you, but your wickedness knows no limits as you push him to the brink of madness.

Aemond is still lost in the haze of his climax, still sheathed inside you as he fills you with his seed, when his own dagger is stabbed into his black heart.

The last words he hears as he dies are, “Did you think I did not know who killed my grandmother, dear husband? Did you think I truly forgave you for killing my little brother and getting our baby boy murdered, sweet boy?

When i said I would win the war, i meant I, alone, would rule."

sequel: The Cruel

[loveshotzz]

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap one/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

Welcome To The Neighborhood

—> chapter two

summary: There’s a Bandit on the loose.

wc: 3.6k

warnings: 18+ series for eventual smut, 12 year age gap, reader is 30 and Steve is 42 otherwise none for this first installment :) it’s a meet cute baby.

author’s note: Here it is! chapter one of this little slow burn series with your painfully hot and confusing older!neighbor!widower!steve. This story will take place over the course of one summer, told in mostly blurbs of your chance encounters and run in’s with Steve. This series will have lots of pining, flirting, mild angst and eventual smut. Most chapters will range from 1-2k each except for a few. I hope you guys like reading about these two as much as I liked writing it & I hope to see you back next Wednesday! 🥹♥️

Series Masterlist // Playlist // The tune:

End of May —

Highways and state lines blur together like the buzzing of cicadas into busy Chicago streets. A fresh start. A new life. No plan - that was the promise you made to yourself ten years ago almost down to the date.

The excitement outweighs the embarrassment of how long it takes you to parallel park the Uhaul when you find that one in a million spot in front of your new home. Your hands are numb from the constant battle between the wind and your steering wheel. The breeze from the lake testing your strength for the last hour of your drive. The machine creaks loudly when you slam it into park, your legs wobbling like jello when your converse hit the pavement and out of your truck.

The city hits your ears like the humidity on your skin. The exposed parts of your thighs stick together when the thick air wraps around you like an unwanted blanket. Taking a deep breath, exhaust stings your lungs. Far away from the only place you’d ever known, it’s comforting the feeling that washes over you. You didn’t come here with an agenda. A fresh start with nothing to lose. You came here just to be you.

It seems like everyone is on their way to do something, going somewhere they have to be. They brush past you without even a glance in your direction, air pods buried deep in their ears caught up in their own little world. The sounds of dogs barking mingle with cars honking and loud conversations from patio bars the next block over. The city is alive with summer hanging fresh in the air.

The trees that line both sides of your street are lush and green from the moisture. They drape over phone lines, weeping under the heat of the sun. Bumper to bumper cars from all kinds of walks of life make the one way street even smaller. Mini gardens in front of mismatched houses only inches apart. This was your new home.

The three story townhouse is covered in dark green wooden paneling, the floors split up into separate apartments, and you managed to bag the top floor with protruding bay windows. Dumb luck mixed with being on craigslist minutes after they posted, you found the one mom and pop place in the city that fit your budget.

The chipped black metal gate that blocks off the front steps lands at your waist, and runs as a property line against an even nicer house next to yours. One that looks like it belongs to someone, not rented out to a bunch of someones. The bright red brick looks new, and the dark wood steps and patio freshly stained. An oriental rug that matches the house has chew toys with missing limbs littering the front entrance. A porch swing faces you and it sways gently with the wind. Your eyes catch the silhouette of someone on the other side of the stained glass in the middle of the thick mahogany door, and it reminds you to stop being so nosy.

Keys dangling in your hand, you take your first steps through the gate. The metal groans loudly before slamming closed behind you. You jog up the less polished, salt worn steps to your front door and the faint sound of a deep voice catches your ears from next door as you jiggle the lock open. Crossing through the threshold of the entryway you’re not surprised when there’s no reprieve to the heat, but disappointed just the same as you pull at our tank top that starts clinging to your skin. You eye the narrow staircase that curves up leading to your apartment, immediately regretting doing this alone. 

It takes you less time to unload than it did to load up, at least that's what you tell yourself as you round to the back of the open trailer. Sweat is slick against your skin and you thank yourself for keeping the previous owner's couch even if you thought it was an ugly shade of green.You stare pointedly at the four heaviest boxes left and you swear they mock you while you try to catch your breath from pushing your mattress to your room. The words ‘winter clothes’ scribbled sloppily in bright red marker make your face twist up.

“God dammit,”you breathe out running the back of your hand across your forehead trying to rally. Your A/C was already in the window and the cool air inside becomes your motivation.

You aren’t expecting the abrupt shove forward or the feeling of paws on your butt, sharp nails digging into the soft material of your shorts. Then you hear it, his voice.

“Bandit! Bandit - no! Down!”

Your hands hit the metal of the trailer stopping your fall under the weight of what you’re now realizing is an over excited fully grown German Shepherd. Pink tongue out with spit flying everywhere, you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you when you turn around and he starts sniffing all over with a tail that wags a mile a minute. High pitched whines leave him when he realizes how much he wants you to play, but he accepts the scratches you offer behind his ears just the same. Body wiggling while also trying to stay still.

“Hi buddy!” you coo, your voice instantly slipping into the embarrassing one you only use for animals.

That’s when you see him. 

He has a few years on you, that part is obvious with the pepper that spots the sides of his honey colored hair and the scruff that lines his sharp jaw, but it only makes him look better. His broad shoulders are wrapped up tight in a white undershirt, the thick cotton telling you it was the kind that cost more than your phone bill. The black shorts he wears have a hem high enough to almost be inappropriate when you swear you see the outline of what’s underneath. The Nike swoosh near the slit at the top of his hairy thighs. His shoes match the color of his shorts, the On Cloud symbol etched on the side flashes in the light. Two hundred dollars on just his feet. 

The trained muscles in his arm flex when he runs a hand through his hair, catching the stray that flops over his forehead when he comes to a halt in front of you. The bright red leash clutched in his fist matches the color of his cheeks. Big hazel eyes meet yours after lingering on your curves a little too long, making you realize you’re showing off just as much skin as him. Clearing your throat, you tug at the bottom of your yoga shorts, willing them to grow just an inch longer with cheeks burning and not because of the sun.

“Sorry, I have a bad habit of getting him excited before I leash him up. I swear he’s friendly, are you okay? He didn’t scratch you or anything right?” 

You’re too distracted by his hands to comprehend his words, tendons moving under taut skin as he hooks Bandit’s hardness. The heat, the move, and the man all getting the best of you.

“Hey -“

His voice brings you back to reality, his brows furrowing over perfect features when he looks at you with genuine concern.

“Yes! Sorry, I’m fine. Honestly! I love dogs. The move in the heat, I think, I think it’s just getting to me.” You smile doing your best to calm the worried look on his face, and you swear you see him flush deeper because of it.

It’s his turn to clear his throat, left hand flexing like he’s looking for a ring that isn’t there. The skin is a lighter shade than the rest of him like there used to be. There’s a beat and an awkward silence before he finally notices the mostly empty trailer behind you. 

“Looks like you’re almost done though, top floor?” He questions rocking on his heels a little, pointing over his shoulder to your window. Your A/C is already dripping water onto the pavement.

“Yeah! You live in the building?”  Please say yes.

“Me? No.” He coughs a little uncomfortable, while you fight to stop the disappointment from showing on your face. “I umm, I actually live next door.” He winces, almost like he’s embarrassed.

“Anyway, sorry about Bandit. Your boyfriend is probably wondering where you’re at.” You don’t miss the way he assumes with a secret hope he’s wrong hidden behind the mossy greens of his eyes. 

“Probably,” you pause, ego boosting when you see him squirm, “If I had one.” You giggle and you hate the way your hips twist a little. 

That’s when he does it, he smiles, with all of his teeth. It’s just as blinding as it is contagious, and it makes your skin tingle, giddiness dripping from your limbs. It’s short lived though, like pieces of a puzzle clicking together you watch it disappear. It’s replaced by the same concern from before only with a new layer of disbelief.

“Wait, honey, who’s helping you move in then?” He looks at you stunned like he can’t fathom the answer he knows you're gonna give.

“The same person that drove here - me.” You grin a little proud with your chin pushed up and it makes his lips twitch, the same smile from before itching to come back.

“Let me at least help with these last few.” He peeks behind you, eyes scanning over your messy writing, “They look like they might be heavy.” 

He teases you just enough to earn a roll of your eyes, but the grin on your face makes him huff out a relieved laugh. Nerves like a first date twist in his gut when he sees the way you look at him from under your lashes.

“I mean, if you insist…?” you trail off, fishing for his name. 

“Steve, sorry! It's Steve, Steve Harrington.” He runs one of his big hands through his hair again, a nervous tell of his you pick up on instantly, before offering it out for you to take.

“I don’t think I caught that, can you repeat your name one more time for me?” Biting your lip into a smile, he narrows his eyes playfully, cheeks blooming, flustered from your words.

Sliding your hand into his, it disappears completely when he wraps his fingers around yours. The softness of his palm is warm like the sun that beat down on you all day and it sends electric currents running through your veins, heart thumping loudly in your chest and you wonder if he can hear the way he can hear it. Minutes pass before either of you make the first move to let go, or at least that’s what it feels like. It’s not until Bandit whines at your feet that Steve finally caves.

“Let me go put him back inside real quick, it’s still a little too hot out anyway and I’ll help you bring the last of this up, tough girl.” He winks with the kind of casualness that makes you question whether you saw it at all and you have to hold in the sigh that begs to slip past your lips.

“I’ll be waiting,” your voice cracks, your confidence slowly disappearing like the sun behind the hazed skyline. 

You try to cover it up by swooping down to give Bandit a kiss between the eyes. Only it backfires, making it worse when you realize how weirdly personal that was to do to someone else’s dog, despite the more than pleased wag of his tail.

“That - that was, oh god. I don’t know why I kissed your dog like I knew him. Or you. I’m - I’m sorry.”  You pinch the bridge of your nose, embarrassment rolling off of you in waves.

It’s not until you hear his laugh, and god is it pretty too, that you finally look up.

“It’s understandable, he’s a handsome guy.” Steve smirks with flirty eyes and it makes you dizzy. 

You can’t stop your giggle, the back of your hand doing little to hide your smile from him. Butterflies breaking from cocoons in your stomach as you watch him walk away to that big house right next to yours.

“What exactly do you have in these boxes?” Steve grunts as he follows you up the narrow staircase with two in tow despite your multiple warnings. 

“Winter coats, sweaters, maybe some boots...” you trail off trying to think, your disorganization more than evident when you open up your front door to even more boxes and bags spread out in disarray.

“You packed your coats and your boots in the same box?” His voice is muffled behind cardboard as the cool air hits, sending goosebumps across sweat-kissed skin. The low hum does something to dull your nerves when you work up the courage to turn around and finally face him. 

“Maybe! Who knows, I’ll find out tonight when I open it.”  

He huffs out a breathy laugh as his broad shoulders almost brush the sides of your door frame. Stepping one expensive sneaker in front of the other into your more than humble apartment, there’s a fleeting moment of regret about taking him up on his offer when your eyes dart around the mess. 

“Where am I puttin’ this boss?” His eyes meet yours from around the side of the boxes, playfulness filling the greens and browns like before.

The muscles in his arm flex when he re-establishes his hold on the box, the sleeves of his shirt getting tighter and the whites of his knuckles start to show. The simple brown leather band of his watch strains, and it makes your throat dry up.

“Ummm.” You shake your head, willing your brain to regain its normal function as you start a clumsy walk towards the direction of your bedroom. “We can put them in my -“

Your shoe hits something hard and you don’t have enough time to realize what’s happening until you're already on the ground. Palms flat against the scratched wooden floor and a sharp pain in your ankle. The culprit, an already half opened box labeled KITCHEN you must’ve left in the hallway when you got distracted by something else.

“Jesus, are you okay?” Steve sets the boxes down, pushing them against the wall and out of the way raking his hand through his hair again, it must be a stressed habit too. 

“Yeah, yeah, my ego is a little bruised but I think I’m gonna survive.” You try to smile, but only end up wincing when you go to push yourself up.

“Here, let's get you on the couch, let me take a look.” He doesn’t wait for your reply, both of his hands coming out to you in an offering. Stubbornness losing for once, you take them.  

He lifts you up like you’re weightless, moving you around with ease as he tucks you into his side. His fingers wrap around the curve of your hip to steady you. He’s warm, the pine of his body wash mixing with the spice of his cologne and it surrounds you in a strong hold. It's a short trip to your couch, his abs moving with each step, and you secretly wish it took just a little longer. 

He’s gentle when he untangles himself from you. Soft palms on your elbows to hold your balance as you sit down. There’s a hint of his aftershave that hits your nose as your muscles melt into the softness of the cushions, the day quickly catching up to you. Eyelids going droopy.

“Sitting was a mistake Steve,” you groan with a light stretch of your limbs, and another subtle wince.

“Well good thing you conned me into helping you with the last of your boxes then.” He waits a second before meeting your eyes as he pulls one of your many boxes over to sit on, his lips twisting up when he sees the way you scoff. 

“Conned you?! You practically begged me to let you help.” Your head bobs with attitude dripping from each word and it makes him grin. He nods furrowing his brows like he’s hearing you, but despite the limited time you’ve spent with him you knew whatever he was about to say was just going to egg you on more.

“I mean, if that’s what you need to tell yourself sweetheart. I remember it a little differently.” He can’t hold in his laugh when you roll your eyes hard at him trying to ignore the newest nickname.

His knees brush against yours when he finally takes his seat, the hem of his shorts rising higher, running tight against the muscle of his thigh. The cinnamon hair that covers his legs tickles you while the sun hits your bay window with just the right light to reveal an expanse of freckles and moles you didn’t see before under his five o’clock shadow and across the bridge of his nose. God, he’s handsome. 

His eyes catch yours like he can hear your thoughts, and for a moment you wonder if he actually can.

“Do you mind?” The teasing edge is gone, his eyes a little more soft when the tips of his fingers tap against your leg.

Your voice is lost in the shift in energy, static filling in the air between you when you shake your head ‘no’.’’ His touch is feather light when his fingers wrap gingerly around your ankle bringing your foot to his lap. He makes quick work of your laces, using extra care when he pulls off your shoe. The pad of his thumb rubs over the bruising bone and you notice the way he licks his lips.

“Does this hurt?” He applies a little bit of pressure to the spot just below your calf, his gaze making you nervous as he gauges your reactions.

“No,” it comes out a little breathless and he exhales deep through his nose because of it.

“How about here?” He does the same thing as before, only this time closer to your heel and you wince. “There it is,” he hums to himself, rubbing soothing circles as an apology.

“Like on a pain scale of one to ten, I’d give it a three and a half or four” you tell him, when really you’re too proud to admit it’s actually a five.

“Three and a half? You can’t use that. Solid number only,” he scoffs meeting your eyes from under his lashes, the forest inside them turning black.

“I actually think I can do whatever I want,” you laugh incredulously, your toes wiggling under black socks in his lap.

“I guess it is your house, I stand corrected.” Steve admits defeat with an exaggerated sigh before showing you his teeth in a wide grin, his thumb still rubbing circles because it never actually stopped. “Do you have an ice pack?” 

Your finger drums against your bottom lip as you think about everything you had packed, his eyes fixated on the way you lightly pull it down with each tap.

“I don’t remember and if I’m being completely honest I don’t think so.” You look sheepish when you admit your lack of first aid supplies to him.

He chuckles lightly, hot breath fanning against your skin with a shake of his head.

“I think I have one, I’ll grab it and bring those other two boxes up. Keep your foot elevated for me tonight tough girl. Unpack your chaos tomorrow.” He mocks the way your jaw drops at his teasing.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were tryin’ to take care of me Steve.” The joke is innocent, at least that’s what you thought. 

Something clicks behind his eyes, the warmth draining from his smile when it falls. His brows furrow and he won’t look at you anymore, his thumb stops rubbing those circles, and your foot is placed gently back on the ground. He’s standing up faster than you can catch your breath, faster than you can comprehend.  The energy shifts to something distant and the warm summer is replaced with frigid winter. He clears his throat with glassy eyes scratching the back of his neck, and you have no idea what you did.

“Hey I’m sorry if I -“

He cuts you off before you can finish.

“You didn’t do anything, It’s me - look, I’m just gonna go get those things. I’ll leave it at your door, please just elevate your foot. You should be okay by tomorrow.” He doesn’t let you respond, long legs taking him out of your place and leaving you to wonder what you did wrong. 

Your head lulls against the back of the couch, staring fixated on the old popcorn ceiling of your living room for what feels like twenty minutes as you replay everything back. Over analyzing his tones and body language coming up empty every time. This was going to drive you crazy.

There’s three raps on your front door, one coming down hard followed by two quick knocks. When you stand up this time, it hurts less, more true to the pain level you gave him as you slightly hobble to answer.

When you open it, your two boxes are stacked where he promised. A dark blue ice pack with a yellow sticky note that says:

beta’d by @superblysubpar 💕 (also made the cute post it for me 🥹)

dividers by @newlips 💗

chapter two

[natashaslesbian]

Another Mother (Pt 2)

Summary: it’s your first morning in Scarlett’s house and after an argument with your dad you find yourself leaning on Scarlett

Word Count: 2.1k

————

You flopped down dramatically onto your mattress, hitting it slightly harder as it was only laying against the floor. “Thanks Dave” you said as you rolled onto your back “no problem darl” he smiled. Dave was one of the movers helping you and your dad move into his girlfriend’s place, he had single handily got all your furniture up to your new bedroom on the second floor. In just a few hours you had got to know Dave well, it was nice to talk to someone who didn’t see you as the girl whose mom had died. Dave picked up the last of cardboard boxes on the floor “welcome home darl” he said. You smiled politely but couldn’t quite thank him, because this wasn’t your home. It was Scarlett’s home. Yes, Scarlett Johansson. “Bye Dave” you waved as the mover gently closed your door. You sat up slowly on your mattress, looking around at all the furniture you would have to re build tomorrow. In reality, the size of the room made it look like a lot less work, you were worried about how you would fill all this empty space. You heard laughter from downstairs, reminding you of the two love birds down on the first floor. Colin, your dad had managed to fill his empty space, but you weren’t quite so open. You didn’t want a new mom, you wanted your mom.

It was late by the time everyone was someone settled and Scarlett decided to treat the three of you to takeout, as if it was a dent in her purse spending $30. You decided to eat in your room, wanting to be alone for a while. Your dad had tried to convince you to sit with them but you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop the gag in the bag of your throat seeing them so lovey dovey. “Ok Kid, we’ll come say goodnight in a bit” Colin said as you trudged back up the stairs. “She hates me” Scarlett sighed, looking down at her engagement ring. “She doesn’t hate you, she just doesn’t know you that well yet” Colin said as he wrapped an arm around his partner. “It’s not been easy since her mom, she’s not as adaptable as me. It’ll take time but one day you and her will be the best of friends” he said. “Do you think so?” Scarlett asked “I know so. She’ll never admit it but when she was little I tried to get her into superhero’s. Black widow was her favourite before she watched Harry Potter and decided that that would be her entire personality” Colin smiled, Scarlett smiled as the little story. “I know deep down she’s excited to get to know you, she’s just scared. She thinks I’m replacing her mom, I just wish I could tell her that would never happen. But I have moved forward, and I’m happy. I’m so happy with you” Colin said as he lent forward to kiss Scarlett’s forehead. “Let’s eat, then we can say goodnight to y/n and snuggle up in OUR bedroom” Scarlett said with a wide smile.

Waking up in a new unfinished bedroom felt strange, what felt even more strange was the sound. At your old house, you would wake up to the birds singing, no matter the time. Living next to a large field had its perks and you loved the fresh air that came rushing into your bedroom every morning. You felt stiff having slept on a thin mattress against the bare floor, stretching out your sore muscles felt so good. You checked your phone briefly, seeing it was still very early. Your stomach growled as you looked over at the untouched takeout from last night, food had been the last thing on your mind sitting in your new room. You figured it would be a bad idea to eat next day cold chicken, so you ventured down to the kitchen in search of breakfast. It had only just gone 6am so you were surprised to hear cluttering coming from the kitchen. Shuffling in slowly, you saw Scarlett at the stove, pouring what looked to be pancake mix into the pan. Your heavy footsteps alerted the blonde to your presence “morning y/n” she said as she turned around to give you a warm smile, making you cringe internally. “Morning” you said as you crossed the room.

Scarlett continued her actions until she noticed your confused glance “thought I’d whip up a little something for breakfast, I’m a bit of an early riser so was gonna surprise your dad with breakfast in bed” she said as she flipped a pancake. The sweet tone of her voice infuriated you and without thinking you spoke your true thoughts “my mom used to do that for dad, she made her pancakes from scratch though” you coldly said, not missing the slight frown in Scarlett’s features. “Well I’m not the best at cooking” she said as she painted a smile back on her face “I did get a vegan mix tho, your dad told me you don’t eat dairy” she finished. “You’re making me pancakes?” You questioned, feeling slightly guilty at your earlier outburst. “Oh if you want something else feel free to help yourself. I have oat milk for cereal and there’s some eggs if you’d like those” Scarlett said, delicately moving the hot pancake from the pan to the plate. “I could make you some bacon if you’d prefer or perhaps some sausages?” Scarlett continued as she listed off the long list of breakfast items she had. “Can you just stop!” You yelled out suddenly, Scarlett froze at your outburst. “You don’t have to do…all this! I can take care of myself ok. I know you weren’t expecting some random teenager to be dumped with you when you got involved with my dad but I wasn’t exactly expecting a new mom. And just so we’re clear, I’m not looking for one either!” You yelled as you stormed out of the kitchen and stomped back up the stairs.

The noise from downstairs had woken Colin up and you brushed past him on your way back to your bedroom. “Y/n?” He said as you stormed past him with tears coating your cheeks. Your dad decided not to press you straight away, he’d learned early on after your mom passed that it was important for you to let out your emotions. Colin headed downstairs to see if his fiancé might be more open to talking. Walking in slowly, he saw a saddened looking Scarlett standing by the stove “honey?” He said softly. “You’re supposed to be in bed” she said as she turned to Colin “I was making pancakes for you” she said sadly. “What happened?” Colin asked as he made his way over to Scarlett. “Does y/n think I’m gonna replace her mom?” She spoke quietly. “Is that what she said?” Colin asked “well sort of” Scarlett said with a large frown. Colin ushered his fiancé over to the kitchen island where they sat together hand in hand. “She just said that she’s not looking for a new mom. She got upset when I was giving her some ideas for breakfast” Scarlett said. “Oh my god she’s so dramatic” your dad sighed “I’ll have a word and get to her apologise, she’s not gonna get away with being so rude” Colin said angrily as he rose from his seat. “I don’t think she meant it like that” Scarlett called, pausing Colin’s movements “she just got…overwhelmed. Maybe I came on too strong, I just wanted her to feel welcomed” the blonde frowned.

Back in your room, you sat in silence letting the guilt consume you. It was only when you heard the thumping footsteps outside your door did you finally return to reality. “What the hell is the matter with you!” Colin shouted as he threw open your bedroom door “I told you that you would be respectful to Scarlett and then you go and talk to her like that!” He yelled. “I’m sorry” you whispered under your breath “I’m not finished!” your dad screamed as he interrupted you “I am running out of options with you y/n, this behaviour has to stop! You are not the only one who lost your mom and it would be nice if you could just appreciate that I am happy. You may not like it but I am with Scarlett now and you are just gonna have to get used to it because this is reality now! I’m getting sick of you.” Colin said as you just sat and took your medicine. He didn’t even give you a chance to explain or apologise before he was out the door, bumping into Scarlett on the way. “You’re supposed to be taking a shower” she said with a disappointed glance. “I’m now going” Colin said in a huff as he brushed her off. “If that’s how you talk to her it’s no wonder she gets riled up so quickly” Scarlett said softly “what would you know? You’re not a mother are you” Colin said as he slammed the bathroom door closed.

Your door was gently pushed open and you glanced up cautiously to see Scarlett carrying through a tray of food. “Brought you some pancakes” she said brightly, slowly depositing the tray atop your desk. You could see the glimmer of sadness behind Scarlett’s eyes “I heard what my dad said to you, I’m sorry” you said. “It’s not your fault y/n” Scarlett said as she sceptically came to sit with you. “If I hadn’t made him angry he wouldn’t of said it, so I’m sorry” you sheepishly said “and I’m sorry for what I said too” the blonde placed her hand on your shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting touch “does he usually speak to you like that when he’s mad?” She asked. “You heard?” You said in an embarrassed tone “could hear him from downstairs” Scarlett replied. “He expects a lot from me, especially since mom died” you frowned. Scarlett had never seen such an angry side to Colin, she found herself feeling somewhat protective over you, despite her unconditional love for your dad. “He shouldn’t have yelled at you like that” the older woman said “he’s just going through a lot” you said, trying to find excuses for your dads behaviour. “So are you” Scarlett said as she rested her arm around your shoulders. You felt tears well up in your eyes and couldn’t resist but to lean into Scarlett’s embrace. You didn’t expect it to be so warm and so comfortable, something that felt almost like home. You forgot for a second that you weren’t basking in the comfort of your mom and sat up quickly to wipe your eyes. “Sorry, you shouldn’t have to deal with me being all hormonal and teenagery” you said while rubbing at your nose with your sleeve “thank you for breakfast” you said ending the conversation. Scarlett smiled as she stood up and left your room.

It was lunchtime when you next dared to venture out of your room, once again in search of food. Silence followed you throughout the large house as you journeyed towards the kitchen. You helped yourself to an apple from the spotless fruit basket on the corner counter. “Hey kiddo” your dad said from behind, startling you slightly. “Hi” you said questioningly over your shoulder, you watched as Colin took a seat at the island counter and assumed he wanted you to do the same. “Y/n I’m sorry about this morning, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that” Colin said “it’s no excuse but I guess the move has been harder on me than I thought it would. I know you miss your mom sweetie and so do I but I just want you to get along with her” he finished with a face full of regret. “It’s okay, I forgive you” you said quietly before taking the first bite of your apple. “Scarlett said you got a bit upset, it was her who made me realise I was wrong, she was really mad at the way I spoke to you” Colin said with an uncomfortable laugh. “Oh mother of the year everybody” you said sarcastically, making your dad raise his eyebrows at you in a warning way “sorry” you huffed. Assuming the conversation was over you made a break for your bedroom “fancy a movie night later?” Your dad said pausing your movements “the 3 of us, your pick first?” He said as he walked up next to you “I think Scarlett might like another little hug” he said with a cheeky grin. you watched as he went into the living room, slightly annoyed that he knew about your slip up. Deep down, you knew the hug felt nice, but you remained decided - Scarlett isn’t your mom, she never will be.

————

Taglist<3

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @nevaeh-daughterofvalcarol / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904 / @strange-night-owl / @kkreader78o / @hatergirl-69 / @asv-xx

[alibasnur]

My Friend's Widow

Pair: Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Words: 700-ish

Warning: Written in Sebastian's POV, angst, mention of sexual act, major character's death

Author's note: This has been sitting in my draft and i impulsively decided to post it before going to bed

“Today, I brought in some flowers for my friend’s widow. I cut them a little messier, just like how her blind husband used to do when he was alive. 

It was always both of them in that little house as the couple had no child. I remember how she used to tell me that she wanted several of them. But her husband despised the idea of having any at all. She must have loved him so much that she had a change of heart.

 

I wished she had given me the same mercy back then. She used to be my betrothed before she was my friend’s wife. I loved her and I treasured her in the best way that a foolish boy could do. I made a grave mistake of falling back into a deed that I had promised her not to step in, which also caused me and my friend to have a falling out.

Two years after that, I received the news about their marriage. I had never seen a bride so beautiful that it hurt me. A precious, blushing bride laughing in his husband’s arm. So beautiful, but she wasn’t mine.

It grew unbearable to simply look her in the eyes. I didn't stay much longer, just a simple congratulations and then I set off.

But I was glad. My heart sank so much that I didn’t have the strength to pick up a wand and set that wedding arch on fire. At least I didn’t make that mistake anymore. 

I knew what I’m capable of in my worst temper. But that time, I didn’t want to be the reason for her to cry. I wanted to be good for her. No matter how much I’m aching and suffering for it. 

I could be Merlin had she asked for it. But no, she wanted him instead.

I got struck by a high fever and in my sleep, I called for her name. A few days later, I picked myself up, forced myself some stale pieces of bread and water and I didn’t know why and what for.

Sometimes, It still terrified me to see her in the finest witches I came across. It was a bitter reminder that somehow I still belonged to her. She could live a life without me and I would be the one trying to numb myself from the hurtful thought of what things could’ve been.

At one point, a few years later, I could open the drawer and see the ring that she had so coldly returned with only a little sentiment. I thought that I had made up my mind. I thought that I could listen to someone speak of her, and feel no sting.

But as soon as the news of my friend’s passing was at my door, I came as quickly as a gust of wind. I found her, looking at me behind her mourning veil. Her arms reached out to me, and as I held her, I could feel every single wall I had built shatter. She said that she needed me to stay. So I stayed. 

She would call for me on her loneliest nights, I warmed her bed when it felt cold and empty, and I’ll do it gladly. After years of suffocating, I got to breathe her in. At this point, I would take anything. Her lips, her loving gaze, her skin that I could caress, even though she would call for her late husband’s name as I drove her to the peak. It felt like a stab through the chest, but I said nothing. The heartache that she inflicted on me felt as if it redeemed me, that maybe, i would be deserving of her again.

I would wait so patiently, until she comes to love me again. If not soon, then the year after. I would try to read the look on her face, behind that black, sheer lace of a veil, searching for a sign, waiting for it in every word that ever came out of her lips.

So I counted days of the year, but as my heart started to grow weary, today, she put her mourning dress back into the wardrobe, and she stared at me so lovingly that I couldn’t be mistaken.”

[lina-lovebug]

USM characters dating an Avengers daughter

- you knew his about his not-so-subtle crush on your dad when you first met, and decided not to tell him

- you adore him but whose to say he won't just use you as an excuse to hang out with your philanthropist billionaire playboy dad?

- but you'd been dating awhile, and had met Aunt May (who adored you), so why were you avoiding the subject of your dad?

- that was until you were fixing your suit and Peter walked in, gave you a kiss and offered to help. You forgot the little engraving your dad left you on your suit, "be careful and kick ass, love dad"

- "aw, that's sweet," he smiled, "when can I meet him?"

- "you. . .already have," you said, trying to gage his reaction, "he made me my first suit. . .and yours"

- it took him a few seconds but then it all clicked. His super amazing genius girlfriend whose dad bought her a Porsche at fifteen was Tony Stark

- his idol

- "I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner, but you idolize him and I was scared and-"

- he understood - completely shocked but understood

- he does ask if that means he can drive the Porsche now tho

- you and your mom? Best friends

- danny and your mom? Not so much

- being the daughter of Black Widow herself came with a lot of trust, and many secrets so you never intended on dating because of it

- but then this handsome motherfucker gentleman comes along and you're on cloud nine

- you told him you have a complicated past and he respected that, waiting until you were ready

- but he's Iron Fist, King of K'un L'un and an Agent of SHIELD so he took notice when you'd disappear from team sessions

- he admits he got curious and followed one day, and there you were: training with Black Widow herself, and doing it flawlessly

- and at the end of it, his suspicions were confirmed once you hugged and said, "thanks, mom"

- "So are you gonna introduce us or does he always do that?" She made DIRECT eye contact with him and it honestly sent a shiver down his spine

- he introduced himself, remaining calm and collected, which impressed her but she also knows that people can hide how they rlly feel

- she GRILLED HIM

- "where'd you grow up?" "K'un L'un" "who are your parents?" "Heather and Wendell Rand" "if you're a billionaire, why do you wear five dollar flip flops?"

- you knew she approved of him, but she liked to keep him on his toes

- "beloved, I love you, but your mother scares me"

- oh how does one BEGIN to explain to their bullet proof boyfriend that their dad is Thor?

- he knew you had to be other worldly, and not just because he thinks you're a Goddess you accidentally struck him with lightning one time

- you wanted to keep it a secret for a bit before the Almighty Thor comes in and demands to know Luke's intentions

- "babe, why is Thor asking me when I'm proposing?"

- being a God came with perks, so Thor knew not long after you guys started dating that something was amiss with his daughter

- (you stopped remembering to being him poptarts and he got upset)

- "how do I know if he is worthy of your hand?"

- "He makes me laugh :) and he's bulletproof so. . ."

- they get along great

- his first trip to Asgard was a bit intimidating but seeing as you're half human, your mom reminded him that love between you guys was possible

- "I recommend a traditional Asgardian ceremony-"

- "dad we're sixteen"

- o h b o i

- talk about overprotective father

- you're a minute late, who were you with? What were you doing? I want their names, addresses, social security-

- if you guessed Winter Soldier a.k.a Bucky then you guessed right

- he knew something was up the moment you two lingered for a bit after training, and watching from the top deck this man SPOTTED your hands brush and asked Fury for Novas' personal file

- but knowing your dad, you were actually able to keep your relationship a secret for two months before he put the pieces together himself

- you both were out on a picnic date, Sam having made a cute cake, and a very threatening man with a metal arm came up sat down, smiled at him, held his hand out and said, "Samuel Alexander, sixteen, last Nova, grew up in Carefree, and 5'8, correct?"

- you were LIVID

- meanwhile Sam was like "omg he knows my name :0!!"

- you had told Sam long before dating that your dad was extremely overprotective, but Sam being Sam was just excited that his badass girlfriend has a badass dad!!

- and Buckys like "wtf this kid isn't even remotely terrified"

- Sam asks question after question, and it even turns into a third wheel - as in they're bonding and you're just there

- Bucky likes him but still tries to be somewhat intimidating, being the infamous Winter Soldier and all

- "Babe. . .baabe. . .when's your dad gonna be back? I wanna ask him if he likes my new helmet look"

- so like where do I even start

- you and Ava had been dating for a couple of months before she started to realize that she hadn't met your family

- you told her that they were just really intense and you didn't wanna scare her

- but who could scare White Tiger? So she insisted and you said "your funeral"

- also how does one explain to their partner that they technically shouldn't exist because your dad is a robot and your mom is a witch?

- your brothers LOVE her

- Billy and Tommy immediately recognized Ava, seeing as they'd work with the team from time to time and said "ooh our sisters dating the smart one"

- and Ava like, "babe I think I kicked one of their asses in training"

- Wanda adores Ava, she thinks she's good for you and might as well have someone mentally stable in your life

- Meanwhile in Avas' mind, "omg omg her mom is Scarlet Witch, her dad is Vision - wait is that why she's so smart? Is my girlfriend a robot?"

- no you're not a robot

- Vision likes her, and he knew about you two before you two even started dating. Why? You rambled about White Tiger during dinner once and Vision CLOCKED that look in your eyes

- needless to say, Sunday dinners with your family are now mandatory with Ava