#notes from natasha | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xxxtwilightaxelxxx · 2 years ago

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@katethewriter please read my tags since I don't wanna spoil it but I will say this on here

Last Wish

Pairing: WandaNat x Barton!Reader, Clint Barton x Reader(siblings)

Words: 10k

Summary: Wanda has known grief, but not like this.

Warnings: angst, all of the angst, major character death, Vormir, survivor’s guilt, no happy ending, grief and mourning, please let me know if I missed one

A/N: this is the one I told you to grab tissues for. I'm not sorry, you were warned lol, it’s a long one, and I’m actually really proud of this one, so I hope you like it ☺️

NOW

Sunlight beams through the window, landing fully on Wanda’s face. She groans, wincing when the light burns her eyes.

A set of arms reach out and wrap around her waist. A smile stretches across her face as she lets herself be pulled back into the cocoon that she rolled out of sometime in the night. A trail of kisses is left by a familiar set of lips across her shoulder.

“Good morning, lyubov,” Natasha whispers into her ear.

The Sokovian rolls over to face her girlfriend, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips once they are face to face. “Good morning,” she bumps noses with the assassin.

The sound of a clearing throat comes from the other side of Natasha. “Good morning to you too,” you scoff sarcastically. “Where’s my good morning kiss?”

The two women giggle.

In less than a second, Natasha has scooped you up and switched spots with you. Now, with you settled between them, the Russian playfully raises an eyebrow, “I woke you up with good morning kisses.” She leans down to press her lips to yours to further prove her point.

“You may have, but there are those amongst us who refuse to do so,” you pout.

Grabbing your chin, Wanda guides you to look at her and smiles, “I am so sorry, my love. Please accept my deepest apologies. Allow me to remedy the situation.”

The kiss she gives you is soft and slow and thorough. By the time she lets you come up for air, you feel dizzy and completely under her spell.

“Good morning, my beautiful detka,” Wanda gazes down at you, eyes full of adoration, “was my apology to your satisfaction?”

Smiling giddy, you reply, “I think it will do.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, a grumbling sound comes from your stomach. Your girlfriends laugh as you attempt to cover your face.

“Well, I guess we know Y/n’s hungry,” Natasha teases. Her fingers dance across your ticklish sides.

Wanda watches happily but does not partake. She learned her lesson the time she tried to tickle you and ended up with a stray elbow to the stomach.

When Natasha finally gives you a break, Wanda leans down to kiss your head, “I will make us some breakfast.” She grabs Nat’s chin to kiss her as well before rolling off the bed.

The moment her bare toes meet the cold hard wood floor, an almost electric pulse runs up her body, and everything goes black.

The witch jolts awake in an empty bed and cold sheets. She peers at her surroundings reminding herself where she is…

The bedroom of a cabin in the middle of nowhere, completely alone.

She cries, lying there contemplating the series of events that led her here. The downfall of her relationship.

One lover gone from Wanda’s life, while the other is just gone.

Both made the choice to leave her. After all that’s happened, all that she has said and done, the guilt weighs heavy on the witch, but she can make it right. She can fix it.

Wanda walks through the rows of trees, trimming along the way. You had planted them before you left.

The three of you chose this place because it was beautiful. You wanted somewhere beautiful to call home after your time as Avengers came to an end. But now, Wanda lives here alone.

Soft steps on the grass alert Wanda to the arrival of another.

“Apples?”

She turns to find Stephen Strange approaching. “Eventually,” she offers the small limb out for him to take.

The Doctor takes branch, bringing the flower to his nose to smell, “it smells…..”

“Sweet,” Wanda finishes, “but that’s not why you came.” She plucks the limb from his hand and turns to place it in a box with the others, “what are you here for?”

She suspects why he is here, but she needs to hear him say it.

Stephen slightly cocks his head to the side, “I just came to see how you are doing.”

The Sokovian turns to face him, “and why would you do that?”

“We’re friends. That’s what friends do.”

Wanda folds her arms, “We fight one purple titan together, and that makes us besties?” She adds a twinge of petulance to last word. “Come now, Stephen,” she continues her walk through the trees, “let’s discuss what you really came to discuss.”

The Sorcerer falls into step with the her with a sigh, “alright, we’ve detected a growth in dark energy congregating in this area. I do some investigating, and I end up here. You wouldn’t happen to know why, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t have the slightest idea,” Wanda shakes her head, “I left the magic behind me.”

Stephen huffs, “so it seems.” He stops walking and lets Wanda get a few steps behind before she notices. “This magic you are meddling in, it is the kind to corrupt everything and everyone it touches,” he warns. “Whatever you are trying to do isn’t worth what could happen.”

“Why do you assume I am trying to do something?” Wanda takes a step closer to him. “The only thing I am trying to do is to find some peace in my life. After everything I have been through, don’t I at least deserve that?” The pain is ebbing again. The gaping hole in her life making itself known.

The Doctor retreats a step, “of course, you do, but destruction with dark magic won’t help you achieve it.”

“I have nothing left to destroy. Is there something else I can help you with?”

Stephen sighs. He knows this conversation is going nowhere. She isn’t ready to give it up, and he can’t convince her. The only thing he can do is continue to monitor the situation and pray he can intervene in time if necessary.

The Sorcerer opens a portal back to the sanctum. Before he walks through it, he turns one last time, “just don’t let it destroy you, Wanda. She wouldn’t want that.”

After he is gone, Wanda returns to the house and into the basement. Her eyes dance over the pages as she searches for a way to fix this mess. She reminds herself of her mission and repeats over and over to herself.

“I will get her back.”

THEN

A tear falls from your eye as you look out over the horizon. The floating red man’s words play on a loop in your head.

‘A soul for a soul.’

Your heart breaks at the thought of not getting to be there when Wanda returns. You think of Clint and his family, your family, how this will affect them.

But your soul grows angry at the thought of that purple giant winning. You fear the possibility of failing again, of everyone you love and half of the world remaining dead. You take a deep breath and step towards the edge of the cliff.

You are brought to a halt by an iron grasp on your arm pulling you back.

“Over my dead body,” Natasha looks you in the face. Your partner stares into your eyes as intensely.

“Natasha, if we don’t get that stone, billions of people stay dead. Wanda stays dead,” your voice cracks at the mention of her name. Your third that you both have missed desperately since the snap. “I can’t allow that.”

The widow places her hands on your shoulders to get your complete attention, “and I cannot allow you to do this.”

“You have to,” you shake your head sadly, “it has to be me. The team needs you. The world needs you. Wanda will need you.”

“You don’t think she’ll need you too?” Tears gather in her eyes, “Y/n, she loves you so much.”

“She loves you more.”

“NO,” the redhead denies firmly, “and what about Clint? How am I supposed to face him and tell him his baby sister is gone?”

A sad smile graces your lips, “he’ll have his best friend to help him through it.”

“You’re his best friend.”

You shake your head, denying her statement.

“It’ll be ok,” you pull her into your arms, “you’ll be ok. You and Wanda and everyone, you all will be ok.”

She cups your face, tears streaming down both of your cheeks, “we wouldn’t, ever.”

You bring her in to gently press your lips to hers. She deepens the kiss, and you both know what this means. This is goodbye. You can feel it.

Only question is who is leaving.

Pulling back, the two of you hold each other for the last time.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

In a second, you grab her wrist and spin her to cuff her hands behind her back. You knock her off her feet, and she crashes to the ground in a heap. The terror on her face nearly breaks you, but you steel yourself and dash for the edge.

You don’t even make it halfway before you collapse to the ground in pain. Reaching for the source, you eventually find and rip off a widow bite. Looking up you see Natasha nearing the cliff.

Out of desperation, you pull out your gun and hit her in the back of her calf. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, as you sprint the final distance to the edge.

You jump and wait for an impact that comes much sooner than you had predicted. Natasha’s body collides with yours midair, then you both slam into the side of the mountain. You cling to her as she nearly slips from your hands.

The two of you hang from the side of the mountain. You look up to see the wire that is firmly attached to your belt.

“Damn you,” you look back down to Natasha, “why did you do that?”

Her face is calm as she looks back up at you, “let me go.”

“NO!”

“Let me clear my ledger,” the widow asks.

“Your ledger is clean!” You try to reach for her with your other hand, but you fall short, “baby please, don’t do this.”

Natasha smiles, “Its ok.”

All you can do is shake your head.

“I love you,” she knows this is it. She waits for you to repeat it. When you don’t, she prompts you, “say it.”

“Please,” you whimper.

“Say it,” her voice cracks. She needs to hear it, “please.”

“I love you, Natasha.”

“I love you both,” your partner smiles, “tell Wanda.”

Your face screws in pain, but you nod, “I will.”

“I’m so sorry,” Natasha whispers, then she kicks away from the mountain and slips through your fingers.

“Did this actually work?”

The team looks around with smiles on their faces, but their celebration is interrupted by a bone chilling scream. They turn to the source and find your crumpled form on the ground.

No one needs to ask what happened or where’s Nat. They can all see the answer when you writhe in indescribable pain.

Natasha is gone.

NOW

The pages flip one after the other as Wanda continues to search the book for a way to bring her love back to her.

For months, all she has done is search for a solution. There must be one. How many times have they cheated death? She should have died all those years ago in Sokovia, but she didn’t. Steve was buried in ice for nearly 70 years, but he came back ready to fight. Bucky survived cryo-sleep and torture, but he’s still around. Hulk was missing for two years, presumed dead, playing gladiator on some ridiculous planet, but he came back. They all came back.

So there has to be a way, and Wanda won’t stop until she finds it.

She’s already scoured every book on Earth relating to magic and nonhuman abilities. Every scrap of classified information that the Avengers, former SHIELD files, and any other organization of this type she could find.

It is here that she was introduced to the multiverse. There’s an infinite number of alternate realities just floating around out there. There are realities where the team never fought Thanos, the snap never happened, Natasha never sacrificed herself on Vormir, and the three of you were still together.

Somewhere out there are universes where you’re all happy.

All she has to do is find a universe with her lost love still alive and bring her back to this one. The problem is crossing between the universes is impossible, at least for now.

She searches day and night for a way, and her searching led her to a magic book, the Darkhold. They call it the book of the damned. It’s made of dark magic, Wanda is well aware of that. It’s the means to an end and nothing more.

The Darkhold speaks of a Scarlet Witch that is powerful enough to rule or destroy the entire universe, but Wanda doesn’t want that. She just wants to get her love back.

She flips the page again, unaware of the way her fingers have begun to lose their normal coloring. Her eyes scan over the lines, and she halts.

Dreamwalking. A way in which one can enhabit the body of their alternate self, living in that universe while also remaining in their own.

This is it. A chance for her to access another universe, to find the one she needs.

The book floats in front of Wanda as she sits on the ground. With a wave of her hand, she surrounds herself with a circle of candles. Her hands and eyes glow red as she reads the words out into the air. Red wisps stretch out all around.

Wanda blinks twice slowly before actually closing her eyes and slowly rising from the ground.

She is sent through a network of sorts, almost a red tunnel. There’s a struggle. As if she has to remove an obstacle from her path. It’s difficult, but suddenly the fight is over. The tunnel seems to open and so do Wanda’s eyes.

Looking around, Wanda stands in a kitchen. There are crayon drawings on the fridge and colorful dishes in the sink. She’s wearing a black dress that shows a little more cleavage than she would normally.

Across the room, she spots a framed picture of herself, Natasha, and you. She approaches it to get a closer look. You’re all dressed in white, smiling ear to ear. The bottom of the frame reads: Mrs. & Mrs. & Mrs.

“We were so happy,” she whispers to herself, completely unaware that she has an audience.

“Everything ok, love?”

Wanda holds her breath at the sound of that melodic voice that she hasn’t heard in so long. She turns quickly and finds Natasha standing behind her. She’s wearing a very nice dress suit, and she looks amazing.

All Wanda can do is stare.

The Russian smirks in that way that makes Wanda’s insides turn to mush.

“What?” she approaches the younger woman, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She wraps one arm around Wanda’s waist, while the other hand strokes her cheek, “what’s wrong?”

Wanda smiles and shakes her head. Nothing, absolutely nothing is wrong. She revels in Natasha’s touch, one she feared she would never feel again.

Natasha leans in to kiss her quickly.

“Peter just got here,” she says as she fixes Wanda’s lipstick. “The twins are begging him to let them stay up and play video games all night,” she chuckles. She wraps her arm Wanda once her makeup is fixed, “he probably will. Maybe we should have picked someone else babysit.”

The younger woman can barely pay attention to what she is saying. She is too busy staring. She watches those perfectly kissable lips open and close to form words. She gets lost in emerald eyes that she only gets to see in her dreams.

“…Detka sent me to find you. Are you ready?” Natasha finishes.

Wanda is brought out of her thoughts and quickly comprehends what was said. “Detka…” she whispers reverently.

As if on cue, your voice floats around the corner, “if we don’t get going soon, Tony will come personally escort us to this party.” Both of your wives turn to the doorway which you enter. You stop only a few feet into the room, taking in the sight of them still in each other’s arms with their faces only inches apart. “Am I interrupting?” you ask playfully.

Both of your wives laugh and take in the sight of you. Just like them, you are dressed to the tens. You wear a long magenta dress that hugs you in all the right places. The slit that runs to your hip allows a delectable view of your right leg. Your hair is expertly pulled up, with small strands falling loose to frame your face perfectly. You look stunning, and Wanda can’t take her eyes off of you. She is sure you’ve never looked more beautiful.

She smiles widely, “you could never.”

In an instant, everything is gone. She is sent back into the tunnel, fighting to get back through.

Wanda lands on the ground with a thud. “What?” she looks around wildly looking for her lovers, but she is alone.

“No,” she exclaims as she crawls over to the book that is now laying closed on the ground, “no, she was there! She was right there!”

Desperately, she opens it back up and tries to recite the words again. She has to get back. That was only a second. Wanda only got to be with her for a second. It wasn’t long enough.

She raises herself into the air again and is able to reach the network, but when she reaches the obstacle she is unable to fight through. Groaning, she lands on the ground again.

The other version of herself is resisting her. That’s the obstacle she can’t fight through. She isn’t strong enough, but she will be. Or she’ll just find a reality with a weaker Wanda.

Either way, she will see her love again.

THEN

Tree leaves rustle in the wind, and that is the only thing to be heard. The small group stands silent as the dirt is thrown back into the hole it came from.

There’s no service for Natasha. No gathering of people who fought beside her. Not like what they held for Tony. No.

All she gets is a handful of people and an empty casket. A stone that reads her name.

Natasha Romanoff

Daughter – Sister – Lover – Avenger

This was Clint’s idea, to help you and Wanda find some kind of closure. Somewhere to go to say goodbye, even if there is nothing to bury. You had agreed hoping he was right. That this would help, but it seems not.

Wanda hates it. She hates the stone, the casket, the idea that Natasha is really gone, and she’s not coming back. Wanda hates a lot of things these days, but who can blame her. She just lost the love of her life.

The two of you stand side by side, silent tears roll down your cheeks. You’ve stopped wiping them away along time ago. You’re breaking. You’ve been trying to stay strong for Wanda. That’s what Natasha asked you to do, but your strength is wearing thin.

The Sokovian wants nothing to do with you seemingly. She barely talks to you and when she does it is almost always some passive aggressive remark. Her resentment is apparent.

As the last shovel of dirt falls to the ground, you feel another pang of grief. The finality of your time with Natasha hitting you full force. You grab Wanda’s hand for support, but she snatches it from you.

The pieces of your heart break again, and it takes everything you have just to stay standing.

She walks away, leaving you there alone.

Alone. That’s all you feel now. The past two months have been spent sharing a house with the partner you still have, but you still feel entirely alone. Natasha had wanted you to come together, but all you’ve done is drift further and further apart.

Clint comes beside you, wrapping an arm around you.

“I shouldn’t be here.”

You brother looks at you with concern, “you have every right to be here, just like her. You loved Natasha too; you deserve to say a proper goodbye.”

“No Clint,” you can’t lift your eyes off the ground, “I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have come back.”

“Don’t say that,” he turns you to face him straight on.

Your voice breaks, “Wanda thinks it. She won’t say it, but I know she thinks it’s my fault.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is!” you whisper yell, not wanting Wanda to hear you from where she stands a few yards away. “I don’t blame her. She needs Natasha, not me. But Nat’s not here, and that is all my fault.”

Clint grabs you by the shoulders, “no, it is not. It was that purple bastard. Natasha made a decision to bring Wanda and everyone back. She wanted you to be here for that.”

You shake your head and shrug sadly, “it doesn’t change the fact that the wrong person died on that mountain…. It should have been me.”

NOW

Audience laughter fills the bedroom as you, Natasha and Wanda lay on the bed watching I Love Lucy reruns.

Natasha leans against the headboard with Wanda’s back pulled flush to her front. You rest between their legs with your head in Wanda’s lap. She cradles you, gently stroking your cheek and playing with your hair. She nearly puts you to sleep.

Natasha’s arms wrap so tightly around her, she’s not sure where Natasha starts and she ends.

It’s perfect.

The only thing that would make it more perfect is if this reality belonged to her.

Wanda can feel the alternate version of herself fighting to regain control, but she is stronger now. She can hold her at bay while she basks in the presence of her lovers, surrounded by Natasha with you in her arms.

From somewhere, someone knocks on a door. Wanda waits, but when neither you nor Natasha react, she ignores it. When the sound pops up again without reaction from either of you, she knows the knocking is not from this reality. It’s from hers.

Mentally, Wanda groans. She doesn’t want to leave, not yet. She still hasn’t found a permanent solution for bringing back her girlfriend. Dream-walking is just a place holder. A nice distraction to get her through the long nights and keep from losing hope.

She leans her head back against Natasha’s shoulder to put this Wanda to sleep.

When she opens her eyes, she is back in the dark confines of the house she shares with no one. The runes she cast on the walls preserve the exterior from the destruction of the Darkhold, but she must quickly throw up a hex to disguise the interior as any other home.

The visitor knocks on the door again, and Wanda mutters under her breath, “I’m coming.”

When she opens the door, she finds quite possibly the last person she expected to see… well maybe the second to last.

“Clint,” she stands in the doorway, “I figured you never wanted to see me again.”

The archer shrugs stiffly, “Y/n asked me to check on you.”

Wanda hums quietly. Of course, you did. After everything she has done, you still thought about her first. He heart breaks all over again. She never deserved you.

The tension is thick in the air between them. He clenches his jaw. This is harder than he expected, after the way she treated you. He nods into the house, “may I?”

She stands aside, lifting an arm to invite him in. Her hex stands well. The house looks just as it did when you still lived here with her.

Clint looks around. He remembers the day he helped you move in. Smiling sadly, he lifts a photo of you and Natasha from a side table, “this is a good picture.”

“Yeah,” Wanda agrees. Her lips tremble.

He returns the frame to its place, “how have you been?”

She smiles tight lipped, “I’m staying busy. The trees are a lot of work.”

Its not a complete lie. They do require quite a bit of upkeep. You had cared for them before you left. Wanda wants to take care of them while you’re away. She just uses magic to do that. Then she can stay focused on her main task.

“I saw those. They’re looking good,” Clint nods. Small talk was never his specialty, but he just has to make sure she’s taking care of herself. “You take care of them all by yourself?”

“Did you really come all the way out here to talk about apple trees?” She is a bit over the pleasantries. He interrupted a very lovely dream-walk that she would love to get back to.

The archer straightens, “I came all the way out here because I love my sister.”

“and I don’t?” the witch asks curtly.

The archer pauses and considers his next words carefully. He relents with a sigh, “I never said that.” Whatever happened between you, you still loved Wanda with everything you had. As hard as it is, he wants to respect that. “She didn’t want you to be out here all alone.”

Wanda smiles genuinely this time, “you won’t have to worry about that much longer.”

Clint furrows his brow, tilting his head down, “what are you talking about?”

Wanda shakes her head with a sly smile, “wouldn’t you like to get your best friend back?”

It takes a few seconds for what she is implying to really sink into his brain, but when it does, deep concern floods his entire system.

“She is dead, Wanda,” he states flatly, “she’s gone forever.” His voice cracks as he forces the tears away.

“I’m gonna bring her back,” she whispers.

Clint shakes his head angrily, “it can’t be undone. It was an everlasting exchange. A soul for a soul-”

“I’m talking about that damn mountain,” she yells. She takes menacing steps towards him, but your brother manages to stand his ground. “I am the most powerful magic wielder on the planet. There is a way to bring her back, and I will find it.” Red wisps begin to dance between her fingers.

He searches her eyes for the person he once knew, but he is fairly certain she is lost. “How do you plan on doing that?” he asks.

The witch takes a step back, shrugging nonchalantly, “with this.” Slowly she brings down the hex to reveal the Darkhold and all its destruction.

Clint looks around frantically, trying to find something he recognizes, but the only thing he can find is Wanda and even she has been corrupted nearly beyond recognition.

“What is this?” he asks exasperated, “dark magic?!”

“Chaos magic, it’s the way I’m going to bring her home,” Wanda stands resolute.

The archer looks to her incredulously, “you can’t be serious. Have you even thought about Nat?”

“I think about her every day. I’m doing this for her.”

“Nat wouldn’t want this!” he tries to break through to her.

“Natasha’s not here!” Wanda takes a deep breath to calm herself. She can’t let her anger take over. If she ever harmed your brother (accidentally or not), you would never forgive her for that. Then all of this would be for naught.

“I am going to bring her back,” she states leaving no room for doubt, “and once we’re all together again, maybe we’ll invite you over to visit.”

Clint shakes his head attempting to approach, to try and reason with her, but he is quickly swept out of the house by a red mist.

Wanda’s voice follows him out the door, “it was nice to see you again, Clinton.”

Once he is out of her house, she returns to the Darkhold, more determined than ever to find the permanent solution to her problem. There has to be a way to bring her love home to her, and she must not stop until she finds it. She can’t afford to waste any more time dream-walking.

“I’m going to bring you back, my love,” she promises, “don’t worry, I’m going to bring you back.”

THEN

The lump in your throat appears to be permanent at this point.

Reaching into the cardboard moving box, you pull out an old worn-out SHIELD hoodie.

It was Natasha’s.

Bringing it to your nose, you inhale deeply, filling your lungs with her scent. You clutch the garment tight to your chest, as if it could fill the ever-gaping hole in your chest.

Without a fight, you lose the battle against the tears. Sobs rock your body as the wounds of grief open wide again. This pain is never-ending. Everywhere you look you find something that reminds you of the fact that Natasha’s not here.

Everything hurts all of the time, and you don’t even have Wanda to help when it does.

You both moved into the house not long after the final battle, and the only boxes left to go through were the boxes of Natasha’s things. Wanda had been helping, but she only lasted about 5 minutes before storming out of the house.

She won’t cry in front of you. Because if she does, she knows you will comfort her and the last thing she wants is comfort from you. She still resents you even if she won’t say it. You know she feels it.

The front door slams, and you are startled from your tears. Quickly, you wipe your cheeks and stand to put the hoodie away. You listen as heavy footsteps make their way through the house until they reach the door of the walk-in closet.

You turn and before you can say anything, Wanda has captured you in her arms, pressing her lips against yours frantically. At first, you lean into the touch, kissing her back. You’re starving for any kind of touch since the dry spell that she has subjected you to.

This is what she does now. She inflicts radio silence with no physical contact, until something happens and she needs to feel something other than grief or anger.

Every time she does this, you know who she really wants. She tells you when she whispers her name in your ear.

..and every time the pain comes back tenfold.

Still, you give her this. You let her strip you and have her way with you because it means you at least have her for a short while. If this is what she needs, you give it to her. You wrap around her and hold her bare body to yours knowing full well in the morning she will act as though it never happened.

Today, however, you can’t. The tears are still drying on your cheeks. The pain in your chest drowns out anything you could possibly feel between your legs.

When she reaches for the hem of your shirt, you grab her hands, “no, Wanda.”

She tries to kiss you through your protest. She holds you tightly as you push her shoulders.

“Not now, Wanda, please,” you pull yourself away from her enough to step back.

“I need this,” Wanda steps towards you, reaching for your face.

Shaking your head, you back away again, “I need you.”

She rolls her eyes, “then stop pushing me away.”

“No, Wanda!” you wipe away the tears that threaten to fall, “I need you here, actually here. I can’t keep living like this.”

You walk out of the closet, and Wanda follows you into your bedroom. “I am trying to be here for you, to help you when you need me, but I am grieving too, and I need you to actually be here with me.”

“You’re grieving?” she scoffs, “you don’t know grief. I have lost everyone I ever loved. All I had left was you and Natasha. You knew that, and still, you let her die!”

You release a long sigh. Finally, here it is. The moment she finally says what she has been thinking for the last several months.

“No, I didn’t,” you deny, “I tried to take her place. I wanted to jump, but she beat me. I did not let her die! I fought her for it-“

“Not hard enough,” she interrupts, “yeah, you fought, but you made sure that it was you who came back with that stone.” Her accusation hits you in the chest, and you have to catch your breath for a second.

“You think I want to be here?” you ask incredulously. “Do you honestly think I wanted to lose the love of my life, just to come back and have the other love of my life hate me?”

You wait for an answer, but she can’t give you one.

Wanda can’t even look at you. She doesn’t hate you. She knows she still loves you, but the pain and anger she has felt for months have festered and boiled until now they’re ready to blow. Grief clouds her judgement every second of the day. Even though she knows deep down that you aren’t really to blame, you’re the only one here to receive it.

“I didn’t want to be here! I would have gladly followed her over the edge of that cliff, but then you and everyone else would have stayed dead. Natasha would have given her life for nothing.”

“So, I came back to bring you back. Wanda, you're the only reason I have to left to be here. I just need you to meet me halfway."

When all you receive is silence, you whine in exasperation. You’ve met your end, “if there was some way, I could trade myself to bring her back to you, Wanda, I swear I would.”

Time stands still. Wanda looks up with ice in her glare. Before she can stop them, the words just tumble out, “I would too.”

The last remnants of your heart shatter. What was left of your heart belonged to Wanda, and she doesn’t want you here. The pain falls away, and all that you are left with is a numbness that spreads over you entirely.

You take a few heavy breaths and nod your head, “I’m gonna go.” You walk out of the bedroom, but before you leave the door, you turn back to face Wanda one last time, “I love you.”

Silence stretches as you wait for a response that never comes. Crying, you quickly grab your keys and head for the front door. You didn’t grab a single thing. Tears blur your vision as you drive away from the home that was supposed to be your forever with Wanda and Natasha.

Wanda stands frozen in the bedroom until she hears the car engine start and then slowly fade as you drove further and further away.

Now she is really alone. There is no one to hide her emotions from, so now she has no choice but to face them.

Wanda screams as she finally expresses everything she has held off for months. No one is here to stop her, so she lashes out. She throws everything her hands land on. She topples furniture, crying as her angers finally finds its outlet leaving her empty inside.

NOW

A red cloud extends in front of the Sokovian. She repeats the words she found in the book and watches as the cloud expands and forms an arch in front of her. A wild wind picks up around her. Unsuspecting items are lifted in the breeze and circle the witch as well as the quickly growing red mist.

The cloud grows through the house. It tears a part a wall, followed by the deconstruction of the rest of the house.

Wanda doesn’t care. She repeats the spell, red magic pouring from her hands.

“Wanda!”

Wanda hears yelled at her from the right. She turns away from the book to find Stephen Strange standing in the middle of her spell. Now thoroughly distracted, she loses her focus, and the red cloud shrinks back into nothing.

“What are you doing?” the sorcerer questions with his hands raised ready to intervene.

Her eyes glow bright red as anger courses through her. She was so close. “I am going to another reality to bring back my love,” she takes a deep breath and magic begins to flow from her hands.

“NO!” Stephen conjures magic cuffs that hamper Wanda’s powers.

She turns to him with daggers in her eyes, “let me go.”

“Wanda, this is a flagrant violation of every natural law,” he tries to reason, “you could destroy both universes. I cannot allow you to do this.”

Now, Wanda has had enough. She will get her partner back. Nothing and no one is going to change that. She clenches her jaw and breaks the magic restraints from her wrists, “and how are you going to stop me?”

With a wave of her hand, she sends the sorcerer flying away. Quickly she returns to the spell. The magic pours from her hands forming another red cloud in front of her. The longer she repeats the words, the cloud begins to take shape, creating an arch. The cloud begins to thin in the middle, and Wanda can almost see vague shadows of the reality she is connecting to.

Suddenly, a magic chain wraps around Wanda’s arm, pulling her focus from the portal again. She easily breaks it and redirects Stephen’s magic back towards him, but by the time she returns to the spell the portal is open to the alternate reality.

…the wrong alternate reality.

Wanda stares at the sight. This new Earth’s Natasha and you cuddling on a couch with two young boys. One boy is curled into your side, while the other lounges across both of your laps.

This isn't the universe she meant to conjure. She was looking for one where the three of you weren’t together yet to cause the other Wanda the least amount of suffering as possible. She didn’t want to break up a family.

“Wanda, you can’t,” Stephen calls from behind her. He is going to stop her. Its now or never. This reality will just have to do.

Wanda steps through the portal. “Detka,” she smiles.

Instantly, you and Natasha’s heads snap to the intruder. Panic and protectiveness flood your body. In an instant, the two of you jump from the couch, dragging your sons with you.

“Wanda!” Natasha calls for her wife who runs in from the kitchen.

“No!” this Wanda yells. Before she can do anything, the Scarlett Witch sends her flying into the back wall.

“Boys, get behind me!” you place yourself between this witch and the children. You slowly back them to the far side of the room as Natasha attacks the intruder.

“Wait, Natasha,” the witch blocks the widow’s hits and kicks, but won’t retaliate, “I don’t want to hurt you!” She uses her magic to lift the Russian into the air and hold her there in the center of the room.

You run and kick Wanda’s hand, “let her go!”

Wanda’s loose hold on Natasha releases, and the red head falls to the ground with a groan.

The boys run to check on her, but once they reach her, she quickly stands to guard them again. “Billy, Tommy, this way!” she pushes them back to the far side of the room.

You fight the witch, trying to drive her back through the portal she came from.

“Stop fighting me,” she blocks your attacks, but will not use her powers. “Please, Y/n,” she tries to speak with you, “wait, love. Stop.”

Unable to avoid your attacks any longer, Wanda reaches out and wraps you in her magic. She restrains you as gently as she can, trying to get through to you, “Y/n, listen to me!”

“WANDA, STOP.”

The witch halts. Nearly shocked still, she turns to see her Natasha stepping through the portal.

“Let her go,” The widow looks to her lover with a heavy sadness. The frown lines around her mouth and between her eyebrows are deeper than the last time Wanda saw her. Her eyes a dull shell of the light they used to hold, “that’s not our Y/n. Our Y/n is gone.”

“But I…” Wanda’s voice breaks. Her magic fades away and releases you from her hold. A tear falls from her eyes, and her lips tremble, “I have to bring her back.”

THEN

"I'm on my way."

"No, Clint," your hand is shaking as you hold the phone to your ear, "you don't have to do that."

You can hear him moving, talking to someone, most likely Laura. The sound of his keys jingling in his hand fill your ear, "I'm not letting you be alone right now."

"No, don't leave Laura and the kids," you have to hold him off. If he gets here, he will stop you. "Just check on her," you ask.

"Y/n-"

"Please Clint," you cut him off before he can object.

The archer sighs in frustration. He'd much rather lay into the Sokovian for hurting you, his baby sister with a heart three times too big for your little body. But, if you want him to check on her, then that's what he'll do.

"Ok," he yields, "I'll call her."

"Thank you, Clint," you whimper, "so much."

He thinks your thanking him for showing Wanda mercy, but you're thanking him for so much more than that, for being your protector, partner in crime, shoulder to cry on.

You're thanking him for being your big brother and best friend.

"Everything is gonna be ok," he comforts you, and your heart aches.

"I love you."

"I love you too kiddo."

You end the call and take a moment to accept that was the last time you'll speak to your brother.

Taking a deep breath, you turn to your friend, "ok, I'm ready."

“Y/n, I can’t,” Bruce shakes his head.

You stand in front of him in a Pym suit ready to do what needs to be done, “I have to do this, Bruce.”

You hand him three envelopes, each of their names written on one of them, Clint, Natasha, Wanda. “Give these to them after, please.”

“But…” he swallows, “they won’t survive this. You have to know that.”

Swatting away the tears, you smile sadly, “they’ll have each other, like it should have been in the first place." You hold out the envelopes again, "please, Bruce."

"Ok," he takes them and nods. “How do you know this will work?” he asks as you stand in the center of the platform.

"It has to," you shrug, “goodbye Bruce.”

Not knowing what to say, if there is anything to say, he begins his count down, as he finalizes the last of the settings, “in three, two, one.”

Bruce presses the last button, and you’re gone. He looks down and sighs at the loss of yet another friend.

“Goodbye, Y/n.”

The phone picks up after the first ring.

“Have you heard from Y/n?” Wanda asks hastily as soon as the call connects.

It’s been 3 hours and 27 minutes since you walked out of the house. The argument had exploded faster than either of you could comprehend, and you both needed space.

After half an hour, Wanda had calmed down enough to think about what happened, and the guilt followed immediately.

She was horrified. She is horrified with herself and the words that came out of her mouth. She hurt you when you were already broken. She’s been hurting you this entire time, and she hates herself for it.

In tears, she paced around the home and clutched her phone waiting for any word from you. She called. She texted. She sent voice messages, emails, private chats on every social media platform. Hoping for any response from you.

When you still weren’t home an hour later, Wanda grabbed the keys and started driving. She checked every bar, every restaurant, every coffee shop, anywhere you possibly could have gone. She’s called everyone, but no one has seen you.

She answered the phone desperately when she saw the caller ID. If anyone had heard from you, it would be your brother.

“I’ve been looking for her everywhere,” her voice is distraught and panic riddles her body, “she won’t answer any of my calls, and she turned off her location on her phone and I need to find her ……. we got in a fight, and-“

“Yeah, I know,” Clint interrupts, “she called me. She asked me to check on you.” He tries to treat her how his sister asked him to but knowing how Wanda has treated her makes that near impossible. “I think its best if you give her some space-“

“Please Clint,” the witch begs, “I have to talk to her. I said something horrible. I didn’t mean it. I have to tell her I didn’t mean it. Please, Clint. She has to know.”

The archer takes a deep breath. When the three of you got together, he thought that your love was indestructible, but how could he have ever predicted this. A tragedy like this and its ripple effect are unpredictable.

“She said she was going to stay at the compound for a bit,” Clint admits. He’s not sure if telling Wanda is right or not, but if there is a chance to save your relationship, he has to risk it. You and Wanda need each other if you’re going to heal from this.

The Sokovian lets out a cry of relief, “thank yo-“

“Wanda,” he stops her with his voice cool as ice, “you either fix this or stay the hell away from her. Don’t hurt her again.”

“I’m gonna fix it,” she whips the car around and drives straight for the compound.

“I’m gonna fix it.”

Rocks crunch underneath your boot as you climb.

You look straight ahead. You’ve seen enough of this mountain in your nightmares.

“Y/n, daughter of Edith,” the floating black cloaked man greets.

Coming to a stop in front of him, you stare into his eyes, “I’m here for a trade. Me for her.”

He chuckles morbidly, “child, what you seek is impossible.”

“Bull shit,” you interrupt, “you said to take the stone, one of us had to die. A soul for a soul. Why do you care who’s soul it is?”

He stares at you silently, expression almost bare.

"I was here that day. I jumped too," you argue, "I jumped first. It should have been me."

Your suddenly filled with anxiety. This has to work. You have to make it work.

"I am going over that ledge," you assert, "and there's no one here to take the stone, so you'll have an extra soul. That has to have some negative affect according to the laws of universal balance or some shit. So, what are you gonna do about it?"

The wind blows all around, while you watch the guide weigh his options in his head.

He releases a deep breath, “as you wish.”

You turn to the cliff.

“but know, Y/n, daughter of Edith,” he calls. You look over your shoulder, “this will be an everlasting exchange. There will be no reversal this time.”

Clenching your jaw, you nod and walk to the edge.

When she runs through the compound doors, Wanda’s not sure where to go. She darts up to the shared room you and Natasha had stayed in for the 5 years she had been gone. Opening the door, she finds the room empty. She checks the common area, the kitchen, the library, and still you are nowhere to be found.

Frustrated, she turns to the AI hoping it is still functional, “Friday, where is Y/n?”

There is a long pause before the monotone voice rings through the room, “Agent Y/L/N is in the hangar with Dr Banner.”

Before Friday has finished the sentence, Wanda has taken off through the compound. She cannot get through the building fast enough. She pushes every door open with her magic before she gets to it. The elevator takes the longest, and the Sokovian paces the small space the entire time. When the doors open, she runs.

Wanda is nearing the hangar doors when a familiar voice stops her in her tracks. It’s a voice she thought she would never hear again.

“What happened? How did I get back? Where is everyone?”

“Hold on, there’s something I need to tell you. Wait, Nat.”

At the sound of her name, Wanda bursts through the doors and whimpers at the sight in front of her.

Natasha is walking away from Bruce, well the hulk technically, and towards the exit. She stops when her eyes fall upon Wanda. Her lover she hasn’t seen since Thanos snapped his fingers. She’s still confused, but that can all wait.

“Wanda,” she whispers through a watery smile.

The witch is snapped out of her shock and runs for the Russian. She wraps her arms around her girlfriend’s neck. “Tasha,” she cries into the older woman’s neck.

"It worked," Natasha whispers with a grin, "we won."

The two hold each other tight, tears of relief streaming down their faces. Neither of them believed they would ever see the other again, and yet here they both were.

"How?" Wanda pulls back to look up happily confused, “how did you get here?”

“You got what you wanted.”

The two women turn to Bruce who they had honestly forgotten was there. His eyes bear into Wanda.

During the whole reunion, he sat back and watched solemnly. Everyone had seen the tension between you and Wanda since Natasha had sacrificed herself. He had no idea how bad it actually was until you came to him with tears in your eyes and a request.

No one else knew. They would have stopped you.

“What?” Wanda asks breathlessly.

“You got what you wanted,” he repeats with a bitter aftertaste to his words, “or should I say who you wanted.”

The momentary relief is shattered as Wanda stares back at her lover, speechless.

"What are you talking about?" Natasha looks past the witch expecting to see you right behind her, but there’s no one. She looks to Wanda, “where’s Y/n?”

Wand falls to her knees as the ground is seemingly ripped from under her. Natasha catches her and lowers them both to the ground, looking between her friend and her lover, “what’s going on?”

The pieces seem to fall in place, and Wanda is faced with pure horror. “No, no, no, no, no, I didn’t…” she looks up to Bruce, pleading that this isn’t true. It can’t be true. “Please, I didn’t mean it. I came here to tell her I didn’t mean it!”

“It's too late,” the doctor feels his anger melt into pity. Looking at her, he can see how sorry she is, but it’s too late for regrets, “you said it, and she loved you enough to make it happen.”

“What are you talking about?” Natasha asks. She’s still waiting for an answer to where her other partner is. Her brain works overtime, and she eventually catches up to their vague conversation. She puts the pieces together herself.

Then the terror sets in. “Where is Y/n?” she asks Bruce desperately. With tears already brimming in her eyes, Natasha looks to Wanda, “what did you say?”

The younger woman tries to bury her face in her hands, but the widow pulls them away.

"Wanda, what did you say?!"

What’s left of Wanda breaks. She crumples even further into the ground as a primal scream is torn from her chest.

NOW

“She’s gone, Wanda,” Natasha speaks calmly, trying to talk her partner back from this ledge, “our Y/n is gone. She’s not coming back.”

The Scarlet Witch shakes her head. She can’t give up, not when she is this close.

“No, I can bring her back. See!” She motions towards this Earth’s version of you, “I found her. We just have to take her back with us. We just have to bring her home.”

She turns back to you. The other Wanda stands in front of you protectively. With the flick of a wrist, she sends her flying and reaches out to you. “Come, detka,” she says sweetly. You’re finally here, in front of her.

She walks towards you but stops when you step back. Her smile waivers, “come with us, Y/n.”

“No, mama!” young voices plead.

You and the Scarlet Witch look over to the boys in the corner. They reach out for you, while this Natasha shields them with her body. The other Wanda has made it back to her feet and quickly resumes her position in front of you.

The witch takes a step back, and the rest of your family surrounds you. Tommy and Billy each cling tightly to your sides. Natasha wraps herself around all three of you, while also guarding you from the intruder.

“Come with us,” Wanda turns her attention back to you. She only has to convince you, but the conflicted look in your eyes makes her falter.

Why would you come with her? With your family fighting and clinging to you, why would you choose to leave them?

Her lips tremble in desperation, “please Y/n, please come back with us.” She falls to her knees and continues to beg, “I’m sorry, come back with us please... I’m sorry, Y/n please… Please come back to us.” Her anger falls away and she shakes with tears, “come back to us. I’m sorry, Y/n. I’m sorry, please come back.”

As her pleas fall into sobs, you can tell she is no longer speaking to you. She is calling for the one she really wants, the you that is gone.

“COME BACK, Y/N,” Wanda cries out into the multiverse as if you could hear her, “I’M SORRY, Y/n... I’m sorry. I love you; please come back.” A massive sobs washes over her body and she doubles over in pain. The tears are endless. She has no choice but to finally accept it.

She lost you.

The sight of her broken is too much for this Earth’s you. She’s not your wife, but she was obviously yours in this other world. You can’t stand to see her in pain.

You start to step out of your family’s arms, and they all protest. “She's grieving. She won’t hurt me,” you reassure them, "its ok."

Approaching slowly, you get a closer look at this version of your wife and your heart breaks. The discoloration of her hands. The way her thin frame tells you she isn’t eating. The shake of her shoulders as she sobs. The way this pain has devoured her.

Gently, you caress her face with one hand, using your thumb to wipe away tears as they fall. With renewed sobs, Wanda brings her black tipped fingers to cover your hand.

It doesn’t feel like you, not her you, not exactly, but its close enough. She’ll cherish whatever you give her, knowing after this she’ll never feel your touch again.

“You’ve lost so much,” you lower yourself in front of her and look into her eyes, “I’m so sorry I’ve added to your suffering, my dear.”

Wanda cries, “I hurt you. I should have held you and told you how much I loved you. I didn’t. I hurt you, and now I…. I can- I can never take it back. I can never apologize.”

You take her face into both of your hands, “you are forgiven.”

Wanda pulls away from you, shaking her head, “you don’t know what I did."

“No,” you sigh, “but I know the fire with which every version of me loves every version of you. I promise, you are forgiven.”

Wanda’s fingers reach for you tenderly hoping to feel some of this love, even if only by proxy.

You don’t move as she closes the distance and wraps her arms around your shoulders. You let her hold you, let her take the comfort she needs from you.

“Please, don't leave me. I need you,” she whimpers against your shoulder, “I have nothing.”

Gently, you rub her back, “you will be ok; you have each other.”

Wanda shakes her head against your shoulder in a silent denial.

You look up quickly to find the Natasha from the other reality, still standing at the portal entrance. The pain you find in her eyes nearly brings tears to your own.

Natasha swallows thickly, the dull ache of betrayal weighing heavily on her. What hurts the most is the way her betrayal is pointed to the partner in your arms.

THEN

The ringing in Natasha’s ears feels like it’ll drive her deaf. The thundering of horse’s hooves might as well be a lullaby compared to the pounding of her heart at this very moment. Drying tear tracks cool the redness of her cheeks.

"Show me."

Wanda shakes her head, "please, not again." She can't rewatch that memory anymore. She just can't.

The widow stares blankly ahead as her mind numbly takes in all that has transpired in the last hour. “I’m just trying to understand…”

The fight had erupted wildly. It began with Natasha asking Wanda to tell her what happened yet again, and it ended with the swapping of memories.

Natasha showed Wanda what happened on Vormir.

Wanda showed Natasha that last conversation with you.

This was the spark that lit the bomb. Natasha’s feelings of betrayal and Wanda’s growing guilt battled it out until they were both wounded.

Wanda was grappling with the consequences of her actions, and Natasha pressing her for answers she didn’t have.

“How?”

“I don’t know,” Wanda whimpers. How many times had she said those three words tonight? She can’t understand it either.

“…I know you loved her. I know how much you loved her,” Natasha says with an even tone. Her voice is scratchy from yelling, and her throat is hoarse.

“I just don’t understand how you can love her that much and still do what you did. I was at peace knowing you would lean on each other and love each other through the pain and still heal and find happiness. I trusted you with her, and I just don’t understand how I was this wrong.”

“I don’t know,” Wanda replies, “I was hurting so much. I lost you just like I lost everyone else-“

Natasha stands, “but you didn’t lose everyone! You still had her!”

“I know!”

“She was right there, Wanda, and she was in pain,” the widow paces the living room. Her words are angry daggers that hit the other woman right in the heart, “she was drowning in guilt, she was begging for you to help her, she needed you and you hurt her.”

Her tone raises as she continues, and the emotion builds as she tries to imagine what you went through. “You punished her and blamed her for something I did. I jumped off that mountain. I SAVED HER... and you told her she should have been the one to die. That wasn’t your decision to make!”

“I know!”

“How could you say that?!”

The witch stands, feeling as though she’ll burst any minute, “I DON’T KNOW!”

Her voice echoes against the walls, “I’ll never know! I’ll never understand why I didn’t cling to her, thanking every god that I still had her. I don’t know how I could have pushed her away or hurt her that way. I will hate myself for the rest of my life!”

The widow was going to interrupt, but she pauses. The witch’s self-loathing causes her to take a step back.

“If I could go back and change it, I would!” she yells, “I would hold her and tell her that is wasn't her fault. I would tell her how much I love her. But I can’t, and I am never going to forgive myself!”

Natasha sighs in despair. She sits down, tightly grasping the letter you left her.

In it, you apologized for reversing her sacrifice. You apologized for not being enough to get Wanda through this like she had said you would. You tell her how much you love her and hope she will be happy. At the end, you ask her to forgive Wanda, to please not blame her for your decision.

… and she is trying.

“Would you have said it to me?” the assassin asks quietly. “If she had beaten me on Vormir, and I was the one who survived, would you have said it to me?” She doesn’t know which answer would be better. At this point, she’s not entirely sure that it matters.

“I can't believe I said it to her,” fresh tears fall down the Sokovian’s face. The guilt is suffocating her. She just wishes it would drown her already, so she can be with you again.

In your letter to her, you promised that you didn’t blame her and that she shouldn’t feel guilty. You say you love her and just want her to be happy, but she never will be. Not without you. You loved her and forgave her, but she knew she didn’t deserve it.

“I love you, Wanda,” Natasha breaks the silence. There’s a finality in her tone.

Wanda’s blood runs cold.

She’s been expecting this. They have danced around each other for over a month. They’re trying to do what you asked them to, but maybe the cracks run too deep.

“I love you,” she repeats softly, “and I want to forgive you….. but I need time.”

With that, Natasha grabs her keys and leaves.

Wanda stares at the door blankly. This is her worst nightmare. Now, she really has lost everyone.

This, she ruined this. She has no one to blame but herself.

NOW

“Forgive her, Tasha,” you reach out for the redhead. She kneels in front of you, shuddering when you reach out to wipe a tear from her cheek. “Please, I can’t bear the thought of you being alone.”

She rests her forehead against yours.

You cup her cheek sweetly, “I know I would want you to be happy, together. I would die for it.”

“You did,” Natasha’s voice is barely over a whisper.

You nod in understanding. Your heart breaks even more for them. Their universe has been so unkind to them. Smiling sadly, you lift Natasha’s hand for her to look at you, “then grant me this last wish?”

She cries freely, but nods, “I promise.”

You look back to Wanda in your arms, "time to say goodbye, my love."

She holds you tighter, trying to memorize the feel of holding you against her.

Natasha gathers Wanda in her arms, “you have to close the portal, lyubov.” The two of them watch through the slowly closing window, as your family surrounds again in a tight embrace.

You smile to them, wanting that to be the last image they hold of you.

Once the portal has completely dissipated the Darkhold falls to the ground, closed.

Stephen approaches it carefully, lifting it from the ground, “we must destroy this.”

Wanda nods in understanding.

“Can we not do this now?” Natasha’s exhausted voice questions.

“Of course,” he steps back, “we’ll guard it in the sanctum until you are ready.” Quietly he opens a portal and leaves.

Left alone, Wanda breaks all over again. She clings tightly to Natasha as the sobs shake her entire body. The older woman holds her, rocking back and forth soothingly. She chokes out reassurances as she tries not to cry herself.

“It’s gonna be ok,” she whispers, but the Sokovian shakes her head against her chest, “it will. We’ll get through this.”

“How?”

“Together,” she rubs her back, “I promise, we’re both staying right here.”

The witch looks up slightly. She assesses the damage she has caused with Darkhold. The house she shared with you is in pieces, practically gone. A whine slips up her throat. You loved this house, and she’s destroyed it.

“What have I done?” she cries, “our home.”

“We’ll rebuild.” Natasha sits resolute, being the support her partner needs.

Wanda curls into Natasha as a fresh wave of grief hits her. “Y/n,” she whimpers into the Russian’s chest.

The widow can only hold her tighter, “I know.”

Natasha and Wanda sit there for a very long time. Nat holds her while she breaks down. Wanda eventually calms down enough to talk about how she is feeling.

Sitting in the rubble, they take the first step towards healing, together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: ...and yes, they rebuild the home. Apples do bloom on the trees. Many years later, they have the twin boys they saw in the alternate reality. They also have a baby girl. Her name is Y/n, and they hold her just a bit tighter.

.... :) anyway, I hope you guys liked it! let me know what you think!

-k❤️

#THE FUCKIN TWIST #omg i didnt even think!!!#especially clint being her best friend...#once again crying over your writing #when wanda got to the compound and saw them and bruce made the comment and she understood what happened #fuckkkkkkingng hellll #how she never can and never will learn why she acted that way #and how selfless yn was in doing that becuse she wanted to give wanda who she really wanted #but you fucking made me think it was nat she wanted and then you kick me in the feels #varient yn hugging and comforting wanda ;_;#i do wish wanda told her what happened so that she got proper closure to know how yn would feel #nat just not believing what she hoped for never happened and not knowing why #god i will be thinking of this for a while.#i long the day i can request something from you and you create a masterpiece #the fact i didnt know it was you as well lol as if i wasnt following you XD #just... fuck me this needs more notes #still cant get over the twist #wanda maximoff #marvel #natasha romanoff #fyi wanda pleasing yn but thinking of nat.... urgh will she do that with nat?? i bet she will and shell just crumble

1K notes · View notes

flowersforbucky · 27 days ago

Text

devil's in the backseat

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.7k

summary/prompt: a night at coney island with your friends turns out much differently than expected.

or getting fucked in front of a mirror

author's note: this is my first halloween fic!! this was so much fun to write. if you've read haunting adeline, then you know exactly what inspired the mirror maze scene! also disclaimer i have never been to coney island so if any of this is inaccurate then just pretend ok it's fiction :))

warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only content, sex in a public setting, mirror sex, oral (female receiving), unprotected p in v, friends to lovers, romanogers makes an appearance! kind of grumpy!reader, protective bucky, random men being creepy, language, reader is afab, she/her pronouns, reader pov, no use of y/n, porn with a little plot, fluff

my masterlist

“I can't fucking believe I let you talk me into wearing this.”

You tug the tight, cherry red colored velvet fabric of the babydoll dress in place for the dozenth time since arriving at Coney Island.

“What? You look hot. Plus, our costumes go great together.”

Natasha's costume mirrors your own - except hers is a pearlescent white and instead of a pitchfork and horns, she dons angel wings and a halo.

“I don't feel hot. I feel cold. It's fifty degrees and the sun hasn't even set yet.” If it wasn't for the black thigh high boots that cover the majority of your legs, you'd be shivering in the chilly late October weather.

“It's not my fault that you put off getting a costume until the last minute and had to pick through what little was left at Spirit Halloween,” she mumbles, passing you one of the cups of apple cider that the cashier hands to her. You gladly accept, sucking down the hot liquid in hopes that it will warm you from the inside.

Her phone dings as the two of you walk towards the rides. “It's Steve,” she informs you as she reads the text message. “They just got here,” she looks back up at you with a smirk on her face and a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Bucky decided to come with them.”

You roll your eyes, suddenly hating your borderline provocative costume even more.

“I thought he was leaving for a job in Denver this evening?”

It's not that you didn't want to see Bucky. It's that you didn't want to see Bucky dressed like this. As if you don't already get flustered around him when you're dressed in normal, everyday clothing. The hem of your dress barely conceals the curve of your ass and your tits are practically spilling over the low neckline.

“Guess it's been postponed,” she shrugs, nudging you with her shoulder.

The two of you turn to look in the opposite direction when a familiar voice calls your names. You see Steve, Sam, and Bucky walking towards you. Steve is dressed as a pirate, eyepatch and all. Sam wears a cowboy costume with an oversized hat, concealing the upper half of his face entirely.

And Bucky? Bucky wears jeans and a navy blue Henley.

Yeah, you're regretting any of your life choices that lead up to this moment.

“Well, well, well,” Sam drawls as he tips his hat back enough to take in yours and Natasha’s outfits. “Look what we have here. An angel and a devil. Have you two already entered the costume contest for best duo or should I go add your names?”

“You wouldn't dare,” you scold him. Natasha just laughs, falling into Steve’s embrace as he plants a kiss to her forehead.

“We should, you know,” Natasha agrees. “I think we'd have a pretty good shot at winning.”

“Yeah, right,” you retort, looking around at some of the more elaborate, creative costumes that many of the strangers around you are sporting. You notice a man and woman dressed as Beetlejuice and Lydia Deetz and know that you and Nat wouldn't stand a chance in a costume contest. “And what about you?” You acknowledge Bucky, your eyes skimming up and down his civilian clothes. “Didn't have time to pull together a costume?”

He smirks, his eyes trailing up your figure for a heated moment before he responds. “I'll have you know that I am in costume, actually.”

Steve and Sam both snort in laughter.

“Oh yeah? And what are you supposed to be, exactly?”

He tugs up the sleeve of his shirt, showing off the shiny vibranium that is his left arm.

“I'm the Winter Soldier,” he says with a smug grin. “Obviously.”

“How creative,” you praise sarcastically.

“Cut me some slack,” he feigns insult. “I was supposed to be halfway to Colorado right now. I didn't have time to pull together anything too cute.” His eyes flicker to your dress and boots at the word cute. If anyone else notices, they say nothing.

“What are we doing just standing around here?” Natasha exclaims, tugging Steve in the direction of the rides and games. “I want to ride every ride and eat funnel cake.”

They race ahead of the rest of you, with Sam close behind, leaving you and Bucky to fall into step beside each other.

“So, why did your mission get postponed?” You ask casually, trying to fight down the nerves that threaten to bubble over every time you're alone with him.

“Beats me,” he shrugs. “Fury didn't give much of an explanation. I got the text as I was loading my bags into the car to head out.”

“That's annoying,” you mumble, swallowing the remnants of your hot apple cider. “I'm sorry,” you tell him with a glance in his direction. “I'm sure it was for a good reason.”

He shrugs. “I'm here, so I can't be too mad about it.”

Before you can overthink exactly what he means by that, you're both brought to a halt when a jolly looking man in a Ghostbusters costume steps directly in front of you, blocking your path.

“This little devil looks like she needs a giant sloth!” He exclaims, gesturing towards the prizes hanging above the balloon darts station next to you.

“Oh, no,” you start. “That’s okay–”

“Come on!” The red-faced vendor insists, looking at Bucky. “Don't you want to win your girl a giant sloth? Perhaps a giant giraffe? If she was mine, I'd be winning her any prize she wants. I'll give you five throws for ten doll–”

“Fine, fine,” Bucky relents, digging into his back pocket for his wallet. You notice a faint hint of pink blooms along the apples of his cheeks, but he doesn't correct the man when he calls you his girl. “You've worn me down,” he sighs as he shoves a crumpled ten dollar bill into the man's hand.

The man accepts the money with a satisfied, toothy grin and hands Bucky five darts.

“If you get three out of the five throws, you can choose a prize from here,” the man gestures towards a section of smaller prizes. “And if you get all five throws, you can choose–”

The man is cut off by the sharp popping sound of a balloon, and then a second, and a third, until all five darts have been impaled on the board in a consecutive line in a matter of seconds.

“She'll take the bunny,” Bucky tells him before he can erase the stunned look off of his face. He points to a large, flop-eared purple bunny hanging from the upper row of prizes.

Unlike the vendor, you aren't shocked by his perfect aim at all. Anyone who knows Bucky would have known that he wouldn't miss a single shot. You are shocked, however, that he chose the bunny without even asking which prize you want.

The man in the Ghostbusters costume grabs the bunny and hands it to you, surprise still etched on his face. He mumbles a quick goodnight before he's moving onto the next people approaching the stand.

“How did you know I'd want the bunny?” You ask Bucky, trying to juggle the stuffed animal, your empty cup of cider, and your pitchfork all in your arms.

“You like bunnies, right? It was an educated guess.” He shrugs, moving through a thick crowd of people away from the game stations. “Here, let me carry it for you,” he offers when he notices the large stuffed animal is obstructing your vision. You hand it over to him and he tucks it underneath his metal arm.

“Thank you,” you tell him, your cheeks heating at the realization that he'd remembered such an inconsequential piece of information about you. You do like bunnies. The cold night air suddenly feels a lot more balmy.

“I'm - uh - I'm going to find a trash can real quick,” you say as you wiggle the empty cup in your hand. Truthfully, you just need a moment to collect yourself.

You begin walking in the opposite direction before he can reply, your eyes scanning the throng of people for a garbage can.

So what if he knows that you like bunnies? It's a pretty trivial fact that probably means nothing. You know that Natasha’s favorite animal is flamingos - because she's your friend. It's normal for friends to know things that their friends like.

Right? Right.

“I like that outfit a whole lot, baby. But I think you'd look even cuter in just the boots and those horns.”

You're so lost in your internal monologue that you don't even notice two men closing in on you as you toss the empty cup into a trash can. Unlike most of the people here tonight, neither of them are in costumes. They stand so close to you that you can smell booze on their breath.

“Oh, fuck off,” you groan as you attempt to walk away, but they've effectively blocked you between their bodies and the large garbage can behind you. Wicked grins grow on their faces as you realize that you can't get by them.

“Look, I don’t have the patience for this tonight. Get out of my fucking way.”

“Or what?” One of them taunts. “You'll use that little pitchfork on us? Jokes on you, because we're into that.”

“What if I used it on you?” A familiar voice comes from behind them. “Would you still like that?”

Before they can even turn around to identify the voice, Bucky is pulling him back by the hood of his sweatshirt and throwing him on the ground with little to no effort. The other one attempts to stumble away as Bucky turns his attention to him.

He still has your bunny clutched in his flesh hand - despite the seriousness of the situation, you have to bite your lip to keep from smirking at the sight. You don't know of anyone who could be quite as intimidating while holding a stuffed purple bunny.

“What about you?” Bucky asks, towering over the guy by half a foot. “You got anything you wanna say?”

“I - no - we didn't know she was with someone,” he half slurs, half stutters out. His gaze flickers to Bucky's vibranium hand. The man on the ground manages to stand back up, following after his friend.

“Now you know,” Bucky calls after them as they quickly hobble away.

“I had that handled, you know,” you tell Bucky with a nod towards your pitchfork. “But thank you, anyway. Really.”

He places a gentle but firm grasp on the top of your arms and begins to tug you in the opposite direction, guiding you through the small crowd that had stopped to witness the altercation.

“I have no doubt about that,” he sighs, releasing his grip on you when the two of you are a reasonable distance away. “But I also don't doubt that you handling it would have drawn even more attention.”

He's right. If he hadn't stepped in, your method of handling it would have been even more dramatic.

“They would have deserved it,” you mumble. “I knew I shouldn't have worn this stupid costume.”

“They definitely would have deserved it,” he agrees. “And your costume isn't stupid. You should be able to wear any costume you like without getting harassed by drunk assholes.”

The two of you approach the ferris wheel as it comes to a slow stop, a couple getting out of one of the cars. You and Bucky flash your wristbands to the operator, who offers to hold your pitchfork for you while you’re on the ride.

“Besides,” he continues as you sit down next to each other in the car, the operator locking the gate in place. “I happen to like your costume. A lot.” He turns his head to you, his gaze trailing from the tops of your thigh high boots and up to the felt horns that adorn your head.

There's a shift in energy as the ferris wheel suddenly comes to life, sending you sliding across the limited space of the metal bench seat and right up against him.

“Oh, yeah?” You tease with your face a few inches from his. Close enough to see your reflection in his irises. “Is that why two different people have implied that I'm yours tonight and you haven't corrected either of them?”

“Your costume had nothing to do with that. I wouldn't have corrected them even if you were dressed as a giant banana,” he says, his tone and face both serious. “Does it bother you that I didn't correct them?”

“No,” you answer automatically - eagerly. You should feel embarrassed, but with the way he's looking at you, and how good it feels to be pressed so snug against him, you can't find it within yourself to care. “I didn't correct them either,” you point out.

The ferris wheel comes to a stop to let new people get on when your cart reaches the peak.

“And why is that?” he asks lowly. If you weren't sitting so close to him, you wouldn't have been able to hear him over the obnoxiously loud carnival music that pours from speakers in between the ferris wheel's carts.

He wraps his metal arm around your shoulders, pulling you further into him.

“Because I liked the sound of it,” you answer honestly. Your voice quivers - from nerves, or from a gust of wind that sways the pod still perching at the top of the wheel.

“Is that right?” he murmurs. He places his flesh hand on the exposed skin of your thigh - just above the top of your boot and just under the hem of your dress. His fingertips rest near the crack between your thighs. Instinctively, you spread your legs apart - not much, but enough for him to smirk at your body's automatic response to his touch.

“You like the sound of being my girl?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I do. Is that okay with you?”

He chuckles, his fingers inching further up your thigh. You spread your legs open further, giving him the go ahead to go as high as he wants. He stops when he reaches the apex of your thighs, just an inch away from the cloth of your panties. He applies pressure with his fingertips, his short nails digging into the sensitive flesh and making you clench your legs around his hand.

“That depends,” he contemplates. “Are you my girl?”

You open your mouth to answer when the sensation of his index finger grazing the fabric that covers your cunt makes you forget how to speak. You sit there with your mouth agape as he hooks a finger into the cotton panties.

He eases a finger through your folds, lubricating it in your slick before adding a second finger and massaging the pads of them over your sensitive clit.

“Feels like you're my girl.”

You become vaguely aware of the fact that the ride is now in motion once more, heading back down to the ground, when Bucky places the stuffed bunny on your lap in an effort to conceal what is happening in the cart that you and him share.

He alternates between slow, languid circles and quick strokes against your clit as the ferris wheel makes its way down and then back up again. You can feel yourself soaking your underwear as the world dizzies around you. You hide your face in Bucky's neck to conceal the pleasure written across your face.

You're seconds away from coming against his fingers, the pressure in your belly building to a climax, when he pulls away and tugs your dress into place. Your gaze snaps up to his, shooting daggers, as the ride comes to a slow stop. He looks back at you with an amused smirk as the operator approaches the cart to unlock the gate.

“Sorry about that, sweetheart,” he tells you in a strained voice as he snatches the bunny back from you. “After you,” he motions with his head as the operator holds the gate open for you.

Stunned and speechless at what just happened, you stumble out of the cart and down the stairs to the ride's exit with Bucky behind you - both of you completely forgetting about your pitchfork. You can't help but snort a laugh at the position of the large stuffed animal - directly over Bucky’s crotch.

“Real discreet,” you tell him, glancing down at the bunny and then back up to the semi-pained expression on his face.

“I have to admit, right now this thing is worth every penny that I spent on it,” he sighs, and then removes one hand from the bunny to place it on your lower back. “Follow me,” he instructs with a smirk.

He guides you through the crowd and you follow him without question, just trying to ignore the wet ache between your legs.

You shoot him a quizzical look when you arrive at the house of mirrors. You haven't been in a mirror maze since you'd gotten lost in one at ten years old.

There's an attendant sitting in a chair outside of the entrance who unenthusiastically greets the two of you. Bucky reaches into his pocket, digging out his wallet for the second time that evening. He pulls out a hundred dollar bill and flashes it at the elderly man smoking a Pall Mall.

“Take this and don't let anyone else in until we come out,” Bucky tells him before dragging you into the attraction. You and the gray haired man both go wide eyed.

“What was that?” you cackle as the door slams to a close behind you. Bucky doesn't answer, just grabs one of your hands in his and begins guiding you through the maze of mirrors as if he's been here a hundred times.

The entire place is lit by bright, neon red lights that only aid in further confusing your sense of direction. Bucky doesn’t seem phased in the slightest, finally coming to a stop after a few minutes of maneuvering through the endless mirrors.

“You never answered me, you know,” he says as he drops your bunny to the floor. “When I asked if you're my girl.” He smirks at you, stepping closer to you and backing you against the mirror behind you.

“You just paid that man a hundred dollars to get me alone,” you jab as you pull him to you by the front of his Henley. “I think it's safe to say that I am.”

He smiles as you pull him down to you, crushing your lips to his. His hands trail down your back until they land where your thighs meet the curve of your ass cheeks. You release months worth of tension into the kiss, sweeping your tongue along the swell of his bottom lip before slipping it into his mouth the second that he parts his lips for you. He groans into the kiss, kneading the globes of your ass with his fingers. You can feel a prominent bulge through his jeans against your stomach.

Adrenaline begins to kick in when he pulls away, looking down at you with lust blown pupils. He sinks to the floor below you, kneeling in front of your cunt as he raises your dress around your waist and tugs your panties down your legs and over your boots. He slips them into his back pocket before hiking one of your legs across his shoulder.

You can already feel your juices leaking down your inner thighs before his mouth makes contact with you. When he does, you lean your head back against the glass behind you in pleasure.

He sucks your clit between his kiss-swollen lips with an obscene pop before running his tongue down your folds. He plunges his tongue inside you and you grind yourself against his face, chasing the release that you were seconds away from on the ferris wheel.

He moans at the taste of you and the vibration has your walls clenching around his tongue. You ride out your orgasm on his face, the neon red lights blurring and spinning around you.

Despite the fact that your legs feel like jelly, you pull him up to you as soon as you're able to form a coherent thought. You clumsily paw at the button of his pants and his zipper, and he shoves both his jeans and boxers down over his ass, just far enough to free his cock.

He places both of his hands just under your armpits and lifts you as you instinctively lock your legs around his hips.

The head of his cock nudges your wet folds, your juices coating his length before he nudges it inside you.

You feel full before he's even halfway in you. Your walls constrict around him and he digs his teeth into his bottom lip as he adjusts to the sensation of you.

“Fuck, that's tight. You're perfect,” he grunts as he sheaths the rest of his length into you. You let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a gasp.

He has total control as he cradles you between his body and the cold, hard mirror behind you. He sets a harsh pace, his head ramming against your cervix at the sweetest angle from his position beneath you.

He manages to support you with the strength of only his vibranium arm as he brings his flesh hand between your bodies, once again massaging your clit in rapid circles as he fucks up into you.

You cum around his length in a shockingly short amount of time, digging your teeth into the flesh of his neck as he follows after you, filling you up with hot ropes of his cum.

You stay in the same position after you've both reached your climax, panting against one another in the claustrophobic feeling space.

“We should probably go find our friends,” you say breathlessly with a kiss to the side of his face. “Sam's probably getting sick of being a third wheel.”

He pulls out of you, his cum running down your thighs and ass cheeks. He gently lowers you back down to the ground as he begins to tuck himself back into his pants.

He laughs, cupping your face in his hands as he pulls your lips to his once again.

“If he hates being a third wheel, just imagine how much he's going to hate being a fifth wheel.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one-shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #the winter soldier #halloween fic #bucky barnes x fem reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff

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reasonsforhope · 6 months ago

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"A clinical trial studying severe allergic reactions in the U.K. is being called “life-transforming.”

Five United Kingdom National Health Service (NHS) hospitals are participating in the £2.5 million ($3.2 million) trial to help patients live with their food allergies.

The study is being funded by the Natasha Allergy Research Foundation, Sky News reported. The foundation was formed in the memory of Natasha Ednan-Laperouse, who died in 2016 after eating a baguette that had sesame in it...

The trial is studying clinical oral immunotherapy treatments in which patients are given small doses of the food to which they are allergic to build up their tolerance. The food is given under medical supervision by trained staff, The Telegraph reported.

The study has 139 people participating who have allergies to peanuts or cow’s milk. They range in age from 2 to 23 years old, the BBC reported.

The Food Standards Agency said 2 million people in the U.K. have a diagnosed food allergy. In the U.S., about 5.5. million children have a food allergy, the National Institutes of Health reported.

One 11-year-old who was diagnosed with a severe peanut allergy when he was an infant can now eat six peanuts.

A 5-year-old with a milk allergy can drink 120 ml of milk every day and can enjoy a daily hot chocolate, the BBC reported.

“To have a patient who has had anaphylaxis [Note: Anaphylaxis is an allergic reaction so severe that it's potentially fatal without immediate treatment. It is very common with peanut allergies in particular. x] to 4mls of milk to then tolerate 90mls within six to eight months is nothing less than a miracle,” Sibel Donmez-Ajtai, a pediatric allergy consultant and principal investigator at Sheffield Children’s NHS Foundation Trust, said, according to Sky News.

The final results of the study are expected to be released in 2027.

Similar studies have been conducted in the U.S. To find one, visit FoodAllergy.org.

Earlier this year, the NIH released the findings of a study of an antibody treatment that would help children consume allergy triggers safely."

-via WHIO 7 Local News, May 8, 2024

#allergies #allergic reaction #anaphylaxis #epipen #peanut allergy #milk allergy #peanuts #milk #medical news #public health #immune system #immunology #united kingdom #good news #hope

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cloudystevie · 8 months ago

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scary my god you're divine

»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««

pairing || bucky barnes x f!reader

word count || 3235

summary || he would do anything for you.

warnings || smut! dom! bucky x sub! reader, possessive! bucky, a little bit of subspace, choking, little bit of exhibitionism kink, minor pain play, daddy kink (only three times okay i'm sorry i am who i am), degradation, unprotected sex

author's note || 18+ ONLY. not proofread yet. my very first request in a very long time! Anonymous asked: Could you write a Dombucky x Subreader? And if you wouldn't mind jealous!bucky, already established relationship and his dog tags on reader? hope you enjoy nonnie! as always feel free to send in requests or any asks! feel free to reblog! enjoy!

»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««

Today, a select few from the team are supposed to train the new agents, preparing them for the physical aspect of being an agent. Some made it fun or tolerable, like Steve and Sam, who were born leaders and charismatic. Natasha and Wanda enjoyed supervising the sparring sessions. Tony and Bruce enjoyed using technology to throw new obstacles at the agents.

Sometimes literally.

Unfortunately, your grumpy boyfriend, Bucky, just did not find any joy in training days. He didn’t like giving out instructions and praise unless it was you who was under him. He didn’t like supervising weak punches and miscalculated throws. And technology was just a straight-up no for him.

Usually, he could make himself useful with Steve, throwing out no-nonsense orders without making himself a massive part of the effort.

You were taking the elevator down to the gym floor. Fury had instructed you to check everything out and ensure everything went according to the itinerary.

The doors open, and you glance around to ensure no immediate problems before letting your gaze fall on Bucky; his eyes are already on you. You offer him a bright smile, which he returns with a smirk, and your stomach flutters like it does every time you see him. You’re about 7 feet away from your boyfriend before you feel a hand on your lower back. You startle and turn around to face the newest agent. He has quickly climbed through all of SHIELD’s tests and proven himself to be of great value. He chatted you up last week at Tony’s charity ball, and you tried to let him down gently since you were already happily taken. Bucky was on a mission that day, and you didn’t want to add to his mental load by telling him about some punk who wouldn’t leave you alone.

Apparently, said punk, cannot take no for an answer.

“Back for more, cutie? You finally break up with your imaginary boyfriend?” Marcus teases, but really, he sounds more taunting than playful. You glance over your shoulder as you move away from his grip, and you already see Bucky glaring directly at the spot where Marcus’ hand was on your back. The stopwatch he was holding in his flesh hand shatters, and he doesn’t even flinch when Steve and Sam apologize for him, asking what was wrong as discreetly as they could but one glance over to where you were uncomfortably held hostage by the lean brunet man told them everything they needed to know.

Bucky cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders up as he stalks towards you two. His looming presence is felt before you can see him in your peripheral vision. You glance up at him and take an instinctive step back toward his hulking body, breathing a sigh of relief because Marcus has to let up now.

He doesn’t.

“Oh hey, Sergeant Barnes, if you don’t mind I’m actually trying to talk to this chick so…”

The way he talks about you as if you’re not right there makes you physically recoil. Bucky’s eyes harden; he’s not even squaring up to his full stature, and he already easily dwarfs Marcus. Bucky takes a step forward, and everyone in the room comes to a standstill. Everyone shuddering at the sheer anger rolling off of Bucky and the stupidity of Marcus.

Marcus huffs out a laugh. Maybe he gets a little pasty when he’s nervous because he seems to be digging himself a deeper hole when he says something about how many girls fall at his feet and Sarge, you've got to calm down. She’s not worth all that.

In an instant, Steve and Sam command everyone to return to their tasks, and the room begins to bustle again, but with a specific weary energy that was not there before. The very next second, Marcus is picked up by the collar of his black t-shirt and slammed against the wall, the room rattling with the force of it as all the recruits try to ignore the spectacle before them.

“Touch her again, and I will kill you,” Bucky promises. “If you look at her, I will kill you. If you even think about her, I will fucking kill you. Understand?” His voice is a low grumble, the words resounding and reverberating as you watch Marcus sputter out panicked apologies and his flailing body while Bucky still looks so self-assured and composed. It's as if he’s not scaring a man to death while simultaneously making you drool.

You call out Bucky’s name, and he looks at you over his shoulder, pinning Marcus with one final glare and shove before letting him go as the agent does the walk of shame to the washroom. It’s almost like you’re frozen in your spot. You’ve seen Bucky get aggressive on missions before, but watching him be so willing to defend you, stand up for you when you couldn’t, not even hesitating for a second when he threatened to kill for you. And the worst part is, you were confident he was dead serious.

Even worse, something about the principle of the situation was really doing it for you.

On the outside, it might have seemed like you were in shock or panic due to the agents’ actions, so Bucky whisked you away to a private interrogation room on the floor above the gym. The whole elevator ride there, his hand is protectively on your lower back, and you just watch the rigid set of his jaw and the anger and possessiveness written all over his features with unmistakable doe eyes. The air in the elevator is thick, and neither of you says a word. Before you know it, Bucky is easily lifting you and placing you on the metal table in the middle of the dull room, and his eyes are scanning yours for any hint of panic or if you’re upset. His hands cup your face gently, the cool vibranium soothing against your heated skin, and he finally breaks the silence. “You’ve gotta say something, baby. Are you okay? After this, that idiot’s going to be gone. I’m sorry if seeing me like that upset you, sweetheart-” Your rushed words cut off his ramble, “I thought that was really hot.” You say quietly and watch as Bucky’s face contorts from one of worry to one of confusion.

“The way you stood up for me, you were so nonchalant about killing for me. I can’t lie, James. That kind of did something for me.” You continue, biting your lip and scanning him for his reaction, hoping he didn’t take your words in the wrong way.

He’s silent for a moment. His chest moving steadily with each breath against yours.

The next moment, his lips are pressed against yours, and you let a surprised squeak out. Your mouth slots open when his wandering hands roughly squeeze your thigh through your satin pants, getting dangerously close to the heat pulsing between your thighs. Taking advantage of your open mouth, Bucky slips his tongue inside your mouth and you buck your hips to seek some friction against your needy core. The kiss is passionate and renders your breathless as he consumes all of your senses. All you can think, see, smell, hear, and feel is James.

His name falls from your lips in a gasp, you reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, letting your head lull to the side when he peppers sloppy kisses all over your jaw, trailing down your neck and biting and licking on your sweet spot. You swat at his firm bicep, “You’re gonna leave a mark James, stop it.” Your attempt at scolding him is weak, even to your own ears.

You feel Bucky smirk against your sensitive neck, his wandering hands cupping your ass and shamelessly groping and swatting at you. “Oh really? That’s too bad baby. Gonna be a pain to cover up.” He remarks, voice dripping in cockiness.

You scoff and bite back a whimper when he grinds his undoubtedly hard length against your clothed center. Your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself by holding onto his shoulders, a shiver crawling up your spine when a particularly slow grind nudges your aching clit. “You’re such a bad influence you know that?” Your voice lacks any real conviction. Your hips move in tandem with his, both of you sharing messy kisses and your bodies thrumming with lust and pent up energy.

“I’ll kill anyone who even thinks about looking at you.” Bucky says assuredly, and you can’t help the mewl that escapes your lips at his words. Your hands shakily going to undo his black jeans as he messily pulls yours pants down, being considerate enough not to rip them considering there was still a little more than an hour until the SHIELD training day was over. “Bucky I need you, need you to please-” Your voice is shaky and desperate, as you struggle to unbutton his jeans. He shushes you gently, cooing at you sweetly as he easily unbuttons his jeans, just enough for you to promptly pull out his erect cock. Your mouth practically waters at his length and girth, and you spit onto your hand and begin rubbing his length, swiping your thumb gently over the tip making him hiss and push his hips into your hand.

You bite your lip and look up at him through hooded eyes, and he slaps your hand away before tearing your panties in half, the top half covering your swollen clit and the bottom scrap of fabric falling limply against the cool table. You barely have time to scold him for ripping your panties before he’s shoving his whole length inside you in one fluid thrust. Your back arches, your legs wrapping around his waist as your buddy erupts in a shiver, a short scream escaping your lips. He swallows the noise with his mouth pressed against yours as he grunts into your mouth, waiting only a short second before he begins to thrust inside you. His thrusts are slow but hard, making the heavy metal table scrape against the floor with the force of each pass of his hips into yours.

“You’re mine, mine to touch. Mine to have. Mine to take care of.” Bucky grunts out, his movements picking up in pace as emotion swirls in his voice, his metal hand covering your neck, forcing you to stay upright in a position that allowed you to feel all of him. You sob out, digging your nails into his bicep and nodding your head, already succumbing to that foggy feeling you felt when you were so close to your boyfriend. He tuts at you, swatting your face with his flesh hand with enough force to make you moan out and clench around his length.

“Nuh-uh sweetheart, you’re not going dumb on me that quick. Use your words, tell me you’re mine. Tell me I’m yours.” His voice is commanding and you force yourself to look at him, pulling on his shirt and tugging on his dog tugs to get him closer, your foreheads pressing against each other as his thrusts continue to get faster. “I’m yours James, only yours. You’re only mine. No one else. Just you.” Your words are slurred as he groans out a good girl in approval and decides that he wants your shirt off. He skillfully manages to slip your navy blue long-sleeve off and unhooks your bra in one motion, freeing your tits to the cold air of the room, forcing the buds into sensitive peaks which Bucky is quick to take advantage of. His hands squeeze and pull at your tits, tugging and pinching cruelly at your nipples making you whine.

Your bodies are pressed so close to one another, each pull of his hips making his pelvis rub against your aching clit, stray tears streaming down your face and your chest heaving and pushed up against Bucky.

If anyone were to walk in right now the picture would be nothing short of debauched. You completely bare on the table, Bucky completely clothed. Getting absolutely plowed if the screech of the metal against the floor was anything to go by. Your moans get higher in pitch and volume making Bucky grunt, another swat to your cheek making your brain foggy. “Shut the fuck up slut. You want everyone to see you getting fucked like the bitch in heat you are?” But if your moans and increasing wetness are anything to go by, yes, a deep and dark part of you does want that. Bucky laughs at you, shaking his head in faux disbelief and you wrap your lips around his dog tags, enjoying the soothing sensation brought by the cool metal. Bucky looks down at your lips wrapped around the dog tags he never seemed to take off and he let out a wrecked sound. You clench around him at the sound making his rhythm falter.

Before you can even process the loss of his proximity, your back is flat against the table and his dog tags are now around your neck, landing on your chest and glimmering in the dull fluorescent lighting of the room. Bucky slams himself back inside of you, the unmistakable squelch of your wetness filling up the room alongside both of your noises of pleasure. Your high-pitched and pornographic mewls and his low grunts and deep groans. You cry out his name as your head lulls to the side, eyes shutting in bliss as your fingers move to give your aching clit some attention. But Bucky lets out a disappointed grunt, grabbing your jaw in his hand and forcing you to maintain eye contact. “Look away from me again and I won’t let you cum for a fucking week stupid baby.” Bucky threatens. “You better fucking pay attention to who’s fucking you dumb. No need to close your eyes and imagine when you’ve got the real thing right here.”

Each of his words ignites a newfound purpose in Bucky as he pounds into you impossibly harder, his hand swatting against your cheek again and wrapping around your neck, keeping you in place to take all of his thrusts. He knows you always struggle to keep your eyes open and you don’t doubt that he will follow through on his threat. He has always enjoyed testing your weakness and pushing your limits.

“Feels s’good. You’re so big Jamie. S’big, so good s’too good.” Your words are breathy and frail, your fingers rubbing quick circles around your aching button. A mean laugh rumbles in his chest as he watches the way his dog tags move with your tits, the sight is intoxicating and fuels Bucky to continue his torment. “There she is my dumb little baby. Couldn’t help yourself huh? Can’t help the way your brain goes quiet when I have my dick inside you.” His words should be humiliating but they only spur you on, your fingers on the verge of cramping but the jolts of pleasure are so overwhelming you can’t stop. “Jus’ need you. Need you to make it better. ‘M yours Daddy, only yours.”

“That’s it baby, I know, I know it feels so good huh. Daddy’s here baby, Daddy’s gonna take care of his needy baby.” Bucky’s head falls back on a moan when you clench around him, your walls pulsing and a ring of cream forming around the base of his cock. Your orgasm was surely just a few moments away and Bucky’s lips curled up in a smirk.

He folds your legs at the knee, sliding you closer to him with the pressure he has on your throat, the angle making him rub against your sweet spot with each deliriously pleasurable thrust. You squeal out his name, getting even louder than before and he shoves his dog tags into your mouth, muffling your garble out unintelligeble pleads to cum. With one hand Bucky squeezes your throat, and with the other he pinches at your nipples, tugging the sensitive flesh before trailing his hand down your body and slapping your hand away from your clit, he moves his lips down to your ears, licking up your earlobe before whispering his command, “Cum. Cum right fucking now or you don’t get to cum at all.” His fingers pinch your clit and the sudden burst of pain has you tensing your legs up, squealing out nonsense around the dog tags in your mouth and reaching your peak. Your body shakes against the table as Bucky pounds you through your high, his words of encouragement falling on deaf ears as you teeter between consciousness and unconsciouness. His body overwhelming your mind and soul.

His fingers release your throat and you look up at him with watery eyes, bringing him down to rest your foreheads against each other as he nears his own high. Your lips are pressing against each other, “There isn’t a single person in the world I wouldn’t kill for you. I would do anything for you. You are everything to me.” Bucky murmurs in a pussy-drunk stupor. But the words are true, he has said them to you before and will say them a thousand times again. You taught him how to live again, not just survive.

A broken cry falls from your lips from sensitivity and Bucky’s impassioned thrusts turn sloppy as he moans out your name, pulling you impossibly closer as he fills you with his cum. At the feeling of being completely stuffed by him, your second release is triggered and you shake in his hold as he comes down from his high. He presses lazy kisses against your lips and rubs his hands soothingly up and down your body, easing you out of your submissive state. He gently pulls himself out, using the handkerchief he carries around to wipe your thighs clean, but letting his cum keep your pussy messy. He quickly wipes himself off and helps you dress yourself.

A few more giggly kisses and you’re pretty much ready to go back down to the gym. Just in time to catch the final thing on today’s agenda: sparring. Bucky walks one step behind you, his hand back again on your lower back protectively as a path is cleared to the front of the ring where your friends are supervising Marcus and another recruit preparing for the second round of their match. Natasha and Wanda offer you knowing smirks and you roll your eyes with heat creeping up cheeks as you shyly glance up at Bucky through your eyelashes to find him already looking at you with a stupid smile. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek and watches with intent as Steve and Sam coach their respective agents.

“Looking strong, Marcus!” Bucky calls out and you swat his chest making him laugh. Marcus takes one look at you, Bucky’s dog tags now around your neck and falling on your shirt, teeth imprints on your neck, and swollen lips. Poor Marcus falters, and the other recruit takes advantage of his distraction and easily tackles him to the ground, winning the second round. Bucky takes a single step closer to the ring where Sam is helping Marcus up, and the smirk on your arrogant boyfriend’s face is adorable. “Better luck next time buddy,” he says supportively. Sam flicks Bucky in the forehead, unable to hide the smile on his face, “Dumbass.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes fanfiction

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thewidowsledger · 2 months ago

Text

Toothbrush

Pairings: Nerd!Natasha Romanoff x MILF!Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Tags | Warnings: +18, AMAB!Natasha, beefy and super nerdy Natasha, MILF!reader, reader is 39 and Natasha is 22, dating apps, Tony being a good and a bad friend at the same time, lying about age, reader has sons, dirty talk, switch r & Nat but more like a top!Natasha, breeding kink, mommy kink, breast sucking, riding, teasing, rough sex, creampie, squirting, overstimulation, fingering (r receiving), ghosting (kinda), unintentionally stealing clothes👀 (?)

Author’s Note: I know I said I am going to post this tonight but my daimonion is telling me to post this right now, lol. This fic is inspired from this request, but I changed it like a lot lot I guess...I hope it's fine for whoever requested it🥹 the title is inspired by DNCE's song: Toothbrush I am currently banging with this song for weeks now.

Navigation | Masterlist

⧗

“F-fuck please be bad Mommy.” Natasha whined.

“No mommy wants to be bad to their baby…”

⧗

“What do you want Tony?” Natasha chuckled as she saw her best friend on her apartment door at 7 o’clock early in the morning, standing there holding a pizza box. “Really? Pizza? Early this morning?”

Tony rolled his eyes and pushed his way inside, shutting the door behind him. “Well, thank you for the warm welcome,” he teased. “Before I go to my asshole of a father’s place, I want to do one thing. Something purposeful for you, my friend.”

Nat raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what would that be?” she asked, as she led him to the living room of her small apartment.

“Let me see your phone,” he said, taking it out of her hands.

“Hey, wait!” the redhead protested, but Tony was already fiddling with it. “What are you doing?!”

“Setting up an account on a dating app,” he replied, typing away.

“Wow. So this is your grand purpose? Setting me up on a dating app? I’m touched.” She said sarcastically. She watched him, a box of pizza on his left hand and her phone on the other, seriously typing whatever it is that is asked to fulfill the account—he is really serious about setting her up on a dating site.

“You gotta be kidding Tony…”

“Nope. Enough robotics Romanoff before you turn into one.”

Nat’s eyes widened as she suddenly realized that she told Tony her plans. And a wave of regret washed over her. She had meticulously scheduled out her entire summer break even though it hasn't started yet, she intended to spend time working on her robotics project every single day of the summer break. But now, with Tony in the picture with her phone in his hands, she could already imagine the chaos that was going to ensue.

The dating preference section came up and Tony immediately, with no hesitations, clicked women. It had been common knowledge among their friends that Nat had a strong liking for girls. He chuckled to himself, thinking about the kind of women the app would likely recommend for her.

“Let’s make things spicy,” he said under his breath as he set the age range for Natasha’s profile.

With a few taps, he set the age preference to 30-50 years old. “You’ll thank me for this, Nat,” he said with a sly grin on his face.

Every time he and Nat would pass some women on the street, Tony would stealthily observe Nat’s reactions. Whether it was a woman walking past them with her kids or a lady jogging in tight-fitting leggings who he was sure was around 35 to 40, the red head is drooling already. Tony had taken note of Natasha's undeniable interest in women—women who are old enough to be her mother.

The last step came, he only needed to pick a photo of Natasha and it's all done and set up, ready to swipe left and right. So he went through her gallery to find photos of her, but her gallery is just full of screenshots about freaking science.

As Tony sifted through Natasha's gallery, his mood grew more impatient and bored.

“Seriously Nat, you’ve got like a million screenshots of scientific articles and memes about space, and when you do actually take a photo, it’s of some historical artifact in a museum. This is like a grandma’s photo album…” He grumbled, scrolling further.

“Okay, that’s enough.” The redhead stood from the sofa but Tony backed away not even looking at her, too busy to smile like an idiot with whatever he saw on her phone.

“Damn, Nat,” he muttered under his breath, a smirk forming on his face. “I had no idea you were hiding this much muscle under those baggy clothes.” He came across a couple of mirror shots that Natasha had taken in the gym. In these photos, she was wearing a tight-fitting black tank top and some baggy shorts, showing off her muscular arms and strong physique.

Tony chuckled, his eyes still glued to the photos of Natasha’s flexing arms. “Yeah, definitely milfs will absolutely love these shots.”

Nat couldn't help but blush, both at the compliment and at the mention of milfs. “You really think so?” she asked, a hint of shyness in her voice.

“Oh yeah, they would swipe right in a heartbeat,” he said, chuckling. “These are juicy…”

“Okay, you sounded perverted. Gimme that…” Natasha was finally able to get her phone back and Tony raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I was just trying to get some good pictures of you in there. You gotta give the ladies something to look at, you know?”

Tony watched as Natasha went through the app, “You just need to click confirm, and it’s all set up…but it’s still your choice. And…I gotta go, mom’s gonna call me.”

Natasha paused and looked at Tony with relief and confusion. She was grateful for the break in the conversation, but she also didn’t want him to leave just yet. “Okay...go ahead. Can’t keep mommy waiting.” She said jokingly.

“Okay now that sounded perverted coming from you, Romanoff.” Tony pointed a finger at her while walking backwards towards the redhead’s apartment door.

“I’m just kidding,” Natasha let out some giggles as she walked Tony off her apartment, “Don’t kill your father, Tony.”

“I’ll try not to, I can’t believe mom wanted me to spend half of my summer with him. I love her so much that I’ll do anything she asks of me even though it’s spending some time with the man who hurt her.”

“You’ll be fine, just don’t get your hand bloody like last time.”

Tony chuckled and saluted her back, then turned to leave. “I make no promises, Romanoff.” He sighed, Natasha just gently patted Tony’s shoulder and when she was about to close her door, her best friend's foot stopped it from closing.

“Goodluck with the milf hunting.”

⧗

For the next few days, Nat found herself thinking about the dating app and Tony’s playful attempt to set her up. She would secretly open the app every now and then but couldn't bring herself to swipe in any direction. She thinks all these women are deserving to be dated, but she could only pick one of course.

Finally, one night, Natasha couldn't resist the temptation any longer. She sat on her couch to browse through the potential matches. She’d take her frustration out on her pillow, mumbling to herself about how ridiculous this all was. But she continued, her heart raced as she began swiping through the profiles. Her cheeks flushed with a hint of embarrassment as she came across various women who fit her preference—older, attractive milf, thanks to her best friend who knew exactly what her type is.

As she read the bios, she couldn’t help but be intrigued by some of their descriptions. They were confident, successful, and had a certain allure about them that made her even more flustered.

She should've swiped right to have more chances of winning like what Tony advised her, but Natasha continued swiping left through profiles. Yes, she noticed that the women she saw were undeniably beautiful, however, she wanted to see something different, that's why she started swiping left. It wasn't because she found them unattractive, but rather because they didn't quite match the image she had in mind.

She was so intimidated, all these women looks so powerful—like how women should be. So far she'd seen woman who's a pilot, CEO, business owners and many jobs that she for sure puts a lot of zeros on their bank accounts. Not that she didn't want that and she's definitely not opposed to the idea of being a sugar baby, but...she wanted someone who's simple, domestic yet can lead her.

Each profile she scrolled through brought a mix of excitement and anxiety, yet curiosity pushed her to keep searching for that one woman who would make her heart skip a beat.

“Y/N, 39 years old, mother of two, loves gardening, sketching…” she read to herself, trying not to blush as she looked at your photo. Most women she had seen in this app either had a picture with the Eiffel tower or a selfie inside the high premium car—no offense, she loved everything old women do but you, you had a picture of yourself in a beautiful garden she thought was in your place, surrounded by lush greenery. Your genuine smile and a sparkle in her eyes stood out to Natasha.

“Just 4 hours drive away from here…”

Natasha's heart raced as she nervously swiped right on your profile, her hand trembling a little. The moment she did it, she immediately slammed her phone shut and threw herself onto her bed, her heart pounding in her chest.

The thought of you potentially seeing her profile and possibly matching with her made her stomach flutter. The redhead buried her face into her pillow, unable to wipe the redness of her face.

She stood and immediately put on her glasses to distract herself from the constant nervous feeling of seeing a notification from the app, Natasha threw herself into various activities to keep her mind occupied. She deep cleaned her apartment, organized her cluttered drawers, and even got started on her robotics project.

Days passed, but there still wasn't any notification from the dating app. And Natasha actually forgot about it, the robotics project she's working on consuming and occupying every time she had for the day.

Natasha was deep in thought, working on her project, when the sudden notification sound from her phone jolted her from her focus. Startled, she picked up her phone, expecting it to be an email from the agency she applied for an internship or her sister asking for some 5$ on cash app.

However, when she looked at the screen, her heart almost jumped out of her ribs when she saw the dating app icon. She shakingly and immediately opened it.

You: Hi dear

Natasha found herself biting her lower lip, wrestling with her thoughts. She’d faced down debaters, cracked numerous codes, and aced countless exams and quizzes. But responding to a simple “hi” from an older woman had her completely flustered. It was a ridiculous feeling, but she couldn't deny the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of conversing with you.

She typed and deleted various responses, unsure of what to say, until finally, she decided on something simple yet respectful at least.

Natasha: Good evening, how are you?

You: I’m good, just finished cooking some dinner. You?

Natasha: I haven't eaten anything yet, I was working for a project.

You: That's not good for your health and for those massive muscles of yours.

Natasha felt her cheeks grow warm as she read your reply about her muscles. Tony was indeed right when he said milfs will definitely like those. She hadn't expected you to notice that detail, but reading it brought a smile to her face.

Natasha: Massive muscles? I think you're exaggerating a bit.

She typed, trying to downplay your compliment, yet secretly loving the attention.

You: Exaggerating? Not one bit, love. Your biceps are godly💪🔥

You responded, clearly amused by her attempt to deny your compliment.

Natasha felt her heart rate increase at your playful banter and the cute emojis you used. She couldn't help but feel the pain of her cheeks from smiling with your attention and the nicknames you’re calling her.

Nat: Thanks :)))

You: So…where exactly do you live in Brooklyn?

⧗

“Y-you should... probably stop that…” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “I-I'm not... I'm not good at…”

You slowly start to grind your hips against Natasha, feeling her body tense up beneath you. Her eyes dilate, and she licks her lips nervously.

Despite her protests, you continue to grind against her, feeling her hips instinctively buck up to meet yours. Natasha’s face turns a deep shade of red, and she lets out a soft whimper as she feels herself getting hard beneath you. “P-please... stop…”

And you did, you pause, lifting your hips away from her but you were still straddling her—kneeling straightly where your tits were right in front of her. Natasha whines softly at the loss of the friction, her hips bucking forward as if seeking more. You smirk mischievously, leaning in close to her ear. “I’m stopping because my baby told me to. Mommy has to listen to what her baby says, mommy doesn’t wanna be bad.”

“F-fuck please be bad Mommy.” Natasha whined.

“No mommy wants to be bad to their baby…”

Natasha lets out a frustrated whine again, her hips bucking forward again as she chases the friction she was just denied. “B-but... Mommy... it feels so good…you’re so good…” she whimpers, her eyes filled with need and puppy-dog sadness. “Please... just a little more…”

You slowly unbutton your top, revealing your bra. Natasha’s eyes flick down to your chest, watching intently as you unhook the bra and let it fall to the floor. Your bare breasts come into view, you guide Natasha’s face to your chest, gently cupping the back of her head. Her mouth parts slightly, and you can feel her warm breath on your tits. “Be good and suck Mommy’s tits,” you whisper, your voice laced with desire.

Natasha like a good baby she is, eagerly obeys, pressing soft kisses to your breasts. She kisses and licks, her touch gentle and reverent. You can hear her breathing grow heavier, feel her body tensing as she gets more aroused.

“That's it, baby. Be so good for Mommy…”

Her mouth finds your nipples, and she begins to suck and lick enthusiastically. She moans against your skin, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. You can feel her hands gripping your waist tightly, her nails digging in slightly.

She continues to suck and lick your peaks, her cold glasses press against your warmth against the skin of your breasts, the temperature difference sending goosebumps across your flesh. You moan softly, your fingers tangling in her hair to keep her head in place as she paid attention to both of your tits.

After several minutes of shared attention on your tits, you guide Natasha's face back up to yours. You lean down and press a soft, passionate kiss to her lips finally settling back down to her lap feeling her hard once again.

Your hands gently stroking Natasha’s braided hair. You reach out and slowly move your hands towards her shorts, immediately feeling her hard cock through her boxers. Her eyes widened as he realized what you're doing. You then pulled out his cock spring free.

“Guess who’s being bad, hm?”

“Please…p-please mommy.”

You carefully shifted to position yourself on Natasha’s pointing cock. You guide her hands to your hips as you slowly lower yourself onto her. You can see the shock and pleasure on her face as you envelope her with your warm walls. “Y/N…” she stammers.

“That’s not my name baby.”

“Mommy, please!”

You bit your lower lip and began to move, taking her in and out of your warmth, Natasha’s head lolls back, her mouth opening in a silent 'O' of pleasure. Her hands on your hips tighten, her fingers digging in slightly. “It's...it's so tight, Mommy…you’re so…”

“Mhm, yeah?” You pant condescendingly, “Mommy’s what baby?”

“So good! So tight!” She cries.

“Oh yeah?”

You lean down, your breath hot against her ear. “That's because Mommy’s special hole is made just for my special baby. Only for you…” You punctuate each phrase with a slow thrust, taking her deeper.

Natasha’s breathing grows faster, her chest rising and falling rapidly against yours. Her hips buck upwards to meet your slow, languid movements. “Mommy...it...it feels…so good…” she moans softly, her voice barely a whisper. “I... I think I'm... I'm…”

“Are you good?” You asked, but the redhead didn't answer, her eyes shut closed behind her fogged glasses and was too focused on her pleasure and you loved it.

“Are you good, Natasha?” Now you calling her on her first name caught her attention.

“Y-yes…”

Your hands gripped her shoulders as you continued to ride her. “Then hold it, baby. If you're good you’re going to hold it until Mommy says you can come…” You increase the pace slightly, your own pleasure building as you feel him throb inside you. “That's it... just hold on…”

Her face scrunches up in concentration, her hands bruising your waist. “M-Mommy... it's...it's too much...I can't... I can't hold it…” she whines pitifully, his voice filled with need and desperation. “Please…”

“No, baby. You hold it. You can do it. Mommy knows you're strong…” You lean back further, grinding down onto her, your abdominal muscles flexing, “and you’re good, you can do it baby.”

Natasha lets out a high-pitched whine, her body trembling as she tries her best to obey. “I-I'm trying...Mommy...I'm trying to be good…” her body stiffens, her back arching slightly as she struggles to hold back.

You lean in close, your voice dropping to a low, soothing tone. “That's my baby... You're doing so well... just a little longer…”

Her face flushed with heat, her pupils dilating as she watched you with an agape mouth, riding her. Suddenly, her expression turns defiant.

“Fuck...maybe I wanna be bad,” she grips your hips tightly and begins to thrust up into you, ignoring your command. “Fuck, mommy I wanna be bad.”

You’re taken aback by her sudden defiance, your eyes widening in surprise. “Natasha... baby, no...oh! ” Your voice trails off as she continues to thrust into you deliciously.

“Shit baby, fuck you’re so strong!”

So now, it's you who's trying to hold back, but Natasha’s sudden burst of strength is overwhelming. She's too powerful, too determined. Her thrusts become brutal, pounding into you with relentless intensity. You're trapped, pinned on top of her dominant form, unable to escape the force of her desires.

“Natty…baby stop…”

“I can't stop, Mommy…” she moans, her body tensing as she reaches her limit. “I... I'm gonna...I'm gonna come...I'm gonna come inside you…” she throws her head towards your shoulder, her movements become erratic, her hips bucking wildly as she empties himself into you. You're left shocked, gasping, trapped on top of her as she finds her release.

“Turn around...get on your hands and knees…”

“Wha—”

Your shocked expression quickly turns into one of pleasure as Natasha’s dominant commands wash over you. You scramble to obey, turning around and dropping to your hands and knees. Natasha stands up, her hands gripping your hips as she holds you in place. “Good...my good girl... Now stay like that…”

As Natasha starts to move behind you, you feel a surge of emotion. Shock, awe, and a touch of humiliation mix together. You never imagined that she would take control like this, especially after she’d seem like the one to submit. Now, the roles are reversed, and you’re the one being taken.

Natasha's grip tightens around your hips as he begins to thrust into you from behind. The angle is different, deeper, and you can't help but let out a moan. “You like that, hm, Mommy?” she growls.

“You like being on the other end, don't you?” she thrusts deep, her hips slapping against your ass. “Answer me…” her hand reaches around, finding your most intimate spot. “Answer me or I'll stop…” she teases you mercilessly.

“Yesyesyes!”

Natasha suddenly pulls out, lifting you up and carrying you to the edge of the bed. She sits down, easily manhandling you over her lap. Your back rests against her chest as her hands held your thighs, keeping your legs wide open as she slides her cock back into your wetness.

She spreads your thighs wider, her knees pushing yours apart as she continues to pound into you. Her touch is unyielding, her rhythm punishing.

“Hold your thigh…” she took your hand and put it to keep your thigh up. “Hold...hold the other...hold both…” she commands, her breath hot against your neck. You comply, your hands gripping your thighs tightly as her strong hand comes down to string your throbbing clit.

“Oh God...Oh God, Natasha...Please... I can't...I can't take it anymore…” Your cries fill the room, your tits bouncing as she pounded inside you.

You threw your head back against Natasha's shoulder, exhausted from your struggles. She reaches up, her hand cupping your jaw and turning your head. Her mouth descends on yours, swallowing your moans. Her tongue slips past your lips, dueling with yours as she continues to pound into you.

You try to wiggle away from her relentless touch, but a strong hand wraps around one of your thighs, pulling you back. “Oh, no you don't…” Natasha's voice breathed in your ear, her hold was strong to keep your legs apart.

Her fingers never stop their relentless strumming on your clit and her cock pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Come for me, mama…” she whispers in your ear, her voice dark and commanding. “Squirt all over my cock…”

Her words send you over the edge. With a loud cry, you laid your head on her shoulder, your body convulsing as you came undone. You squirt all over her, your juices gushing out as she continues to thrust into you.

“That's it…” Natasha's own release hits her hard. With a final, brutal thrust, she buries herself deep inside you, her body shuddering as she comes. Her hot seed fills you up, spilling out around her still-pulsating cock. You can feel her hot cum mixing with your own fluids, the combined liquid slowly leaking out of you. You can't help but moan at the sensation, your body continuing to spasm when her cock bumped accidentally in your clit.

“You’re so good for me, mama.”

⧗

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside. Blinking your eyes open, you find yourself alone in Natasha’s bed. You stretch, wincing slightly at the soreness between your thighs. A quick glance around the room reveals no sign of the girl.

You sit up, rubbing your temples as a wave of guilt and self-disgust washes over you. Post nut clarity hits hard.

“How could I have been so stupid?” You chide yourself, your voice barely a whisper. “I drove four hours just to...to sleep with a stranger on a dating app.”

“Am I really that desperate for a good fuck?” you whisper harshly to yourself.

Panicked, you start searching for your clothes, but they're nowhere to be found. “Where are my clothes?” You mutter, your heart pounding in your chest. Your gaze falls on a large, plain shirt draped over a chair. You grab the shirt, smiling as you read what was printed on it

“The physics is theoretical but the fun is real.”

You quickly slip it on, the fabric swallowing you whole. It reaches down to your mid-thighs, the hem fluttering around your bare legs. You realize with a blush that you're not wearing anything else—just the shirt and your damp underwear.

You decide to take in the surroundings of the woman you slept with last night, it wouldn't be bad wouldn't it? The first thing you notice is how clean and organized Natasha's room is. The walls are adorned with intricate diagrams of solar systems, planets, and stars, each one meticulously labeled and colored. You spot a few custom-made lamps on the desk and shelves, their shapes resembling various celestial bodies that you thought she made herself.

The lamps cast a soft, warm light over the room, their glow mimicking that of distant stars. You see a bookshelf crammed with books on astronomy, physics, and electronics. A large whiteboard takes up one wall, covered in complex mathematical equations and diagrams.

Your gaze drifts downward, landing on a piece of paper on the floor. So you bend down to pick up the paper, smoothing it out on the table as you sit down. At first glance, it appears to be an application of some sort. Your eyes scan the page, taking in the details of information you see.

“Natasha...Alianovna Romanoff,” you smiled as her name tumbled out of your lips. “Beautiful name to moan to...”

“December 3,” you frowned, tilting your head slowly as you read the detail, “2002…” you felt your heart dropped to your stomach.

“22 years old?”

A sound of footsteps and a humming echo from outside the room made you alarmed. Panicked, you gripped the paper and rush towards the door, slipping out just as it creaks open. And there you saw Natasha who was cooking some breakfast.

She looks up as you exited her room, her eyes widening briefly as she takes in your appearance. Your hair was a mess and you're wearing her clothes—her favorite one, the oversized t-shirt clings to the curves of your breasts, revealing the outline of your hardened nipples. The hem barely reaches mid-thigh, revealing your bare legs—and your nude colored panties she herself took off last night.

You march towards her, barefoot, brandishing the application paper like a sword.

“You're 22?!”

“Wha—”

“Your bio says you're 28!”

“Wha—I-I didn't kno—”

“That's bullshit!”

“And I was like...God! I slept with someone who's the same age as my sons.” You mimic the same line you said as you recall the events of what happened weeks ago, sharing every detail with Thena, your best friend. She was in fact, the one who told you to try going on a dating app.

“At least you had a good fuck,” Your eyes widened with Thena's vulgar words but you hesitate for a moment before nodding, your face burning with embarrassment. Because, well, it's true...

“Yeah...it was…” You trail off, unable to meet her gaze.

“Good? Good?” Thena asks pulling the words out of you as she noticed you being hesitant.

“She was so gentle at first, almost shy...let me lead her but once she got going...whew!” You whistled softly, fanning yourself as you laughed.

“And you ghosted her…” You pause mid-laugh at your best friend's reply, you felt like she just slapped the reality across your face.

“I...” you raised your brows, palming your chest as you looked at her, “I didn't, okay, I just left. What would you expect me to do? She lied.” You defend, leaning down to your chair as you glance at your best friend who was eyeing you like she knows all your secrets. And she does though, but not this one.

“She's young, Thena,” you reason, “She'll move on. She'll meet someone new.” You dismiss the idea of Natasha being hurt by your not so sudden disappearance with a wave of your hand. “It's not like we had any emotional attachment or anything. Hell, maybe I am the third girl she had in her apartment that week. Who knows?” You chuckled humorlessly. You really wished you weren't.

“Hm, just fucking.”

“Exactly, just fucking,” you say, mirroring Thena's crude language. “We both needed that at the moment.” You nod confidently, convinced that's all it was—a simple physical need fulfilled, nothing more. But as you continue to talk, a small, secret part of you whispers that it was more than just a physical need. You felt a connection, a spark, something that went beyond the surface level. But you quickly silence that voice, deciding to keep your true feelings buried deep inside because there is no chance on getting back, you had deleted the app so there is no more way to contact her. But going to her place is a different conversation and there is no way in hell you're going to do that.

Sighing heavily, you rub your temples, trying to ward off the sudden headache that's formed.

“Besides, what would my sons think if they knew I was dating someone their age?” you muse aloud, looking at Thena with concern and embarrassment. “They'd probably be disgusted, Thee…I swear…”

“At least you're not robbing the cradle or y'know. It's not like she's underage or anything.”

“Okay, enough, stop justifying her age. She still lied, which I didn't like. I wouldn’t date someone who's the same age as my son and someone who’s younger, period.” You said with a finality making your best friend laugh at your now serious face, she’s really not used to you being like that.

“Gosh, they wouldn't even let me date anyone,” you sighed, slumping back in your chair dramatically, making Thena laugh even harder.

“You’ve got some overprotective babies there.” Thena chuckles between giggles.

You can't help but agree with your best friend, nodding your head in agreement. “Yeah, they are pretty overprotective. I swear, sometimes I think they forget I'm an adult too.” You smiled, remembering that your two sweet boys are coming home today for summer break.

⧗

You are excited and all jumpy thinking that every sound you hear is a knock on a door.

You started preparing for their visit, tidying up your home and making sure everything was just right and in place, especially with their bedrooms. The clock ticked by, and soon enough, finally, you heard a real knock towards the door.

With a quick glance in the mirror to make sure you looked presentable, you went to the door to open it. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, and then swung the door open.

There they both stood, a cocky smile on their face as they greeted you with a casual “Hey, Mom.”

“Hello my babies.” You almost cried on the spot seeing your grown sons.

“Whatchu cookin’ mama?” your eldest, Mark asked, kissing your forehead before entering the house.

“Your favorite beefy creamy mushroom, baby!” You shout.

“I love you so much, ‘ma!”

Before you could even reply, an arm wrapped around you in a tight embrace, and before you knew it, you were being lifted off the ground, your feet dangling in the air. You squirmed playfully, laughing as you tried to put your weight back down.

“Put me down, you little devil!” You scolded lightheartedly, playfully pushing against your son’s broad shoulders, though secretly enjoying the sweet gesture of your youngest.

As he finally set you down gently, a wide grin still plastered on his face, he let out a sigh and looked at you affectionately.

“I missed you so much, mom.”

“I missed you too, Tony.” You cupped his cheek and pestered him with so many kisses making him giggle.

“I...uhh mama, I hope you wouldn’t mind, I am sorry for telling this to you right now. But I brought a friend over, if that’s fine?” you placed your hands on his shoulders, as he looked at you with his usual puppy-dog eyes, “I owe her big time, I was the reason she’s heartbroken and why her favorite shirt is stolen.”

“Yeah, yeah...” you nodded encouragingly to assure him that it's okay to have some friend over, and the mention of a stolen shirt made you laugh—it was silly you thought.

“Yeah, sure baby…you ca—” you trailed off, your world stopping as you saw the friend your son brought over, standing just few steps behind him.

The friend your son brought over was none other than the person who haunted your dreams every night, the same woman you shared a night with many weeks ago that gave you the most earth-shattering orgasm that not even their father could give.

And you found her looking back at you, her gaze trailing down the shirt you’re wearing that was in fact hers.

“Mom, this is Natasha.”

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

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romugh · 2 months ago

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INTIMATE STUDIES - nerd!NR

pairing- nerd!natasha romanoff x reader

cw- 18+!!; top!reader, gp!bottom!natasha, handjob (n rcv), blowie (n rcv), cockwarming, praise kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex

wc- 2.3k of pure smut

a/n- quick drabble as i'm working my way through BIOLOGY stuff as an ASTROPHISICS and ARCHITECTURE STUDENT. make it make sense?? I CANNOT DO THIS ANYMORE. not proofread, wrote this in like ten minutes as i was eating an apple :D

synopsis- you're studying biology, natasha comes in, you're doing biology (with her).

The past four hours had been a never-ending slog of human reproduction notes, diagrams of genitals, and biological functions that seemed completely irrelevant to your degree. You were an astrophysics major — the mysteries of black holes and quantum fields were your calling, not the intricacies of testes and ovaries. Yet here you were, neck-deep in textbooks, scribbling notes on a subject you didn’t care for in the slightest. Your biology exam was in two days, and every second spent on it felt like time wasted.

Your hand ached from writing, and your eyes burned from staring at diagrams. The irritation crept up further, gnawing at you, until the sound of the door creaking open drew your attention. You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.

“Hey,” Natasha’s soft voice greeted you. There was a tentative innocence to her tone, one that always tugged at your heart in a way you could never quite explain. Natasha, your shy and awkward girlfriend, a literature major who found comfort in the written word more than social situations. Your Natty — so soft, blushing, and oh-so-easy to tease.

You glanced up, the sight of her instantly pulling you from your academic misery. Natasha stood in the doorway, blonde hair slightly tousled from the nap she’d taken, round glasses sitting low on her nose, and your oversized shirt hanging loosely on her small frame. The shirt swallowed her whole, the sleeves falling past her hands, and you couldn’t help but smirk at how effortlessly adorable she looked. The fact that her boxers were barely visible under the hem of the shirt only made it worse.

She stood there for a moment, awkwardly shifting on her feet, and something about the way she looked at you made a surge of desire shoot through your veins. Natasha was always so shy, always so unsure about these moments. But that only made your pulse quicken, knowing just how easy it was to make her come undone.

“Natty,” you called, your voice low and teasing. “Want to help me study?”

She blinked, eyes wide behind her glasses, but she stepped closer, that innocent curiosity mixed with a soft blush spreading across her cheeks. Her bare legs peeked out from under the shirt, the fabric brushing against her thighs as she padded towards you. She always had this way about her—this quiet, almost timid energy that made you want to take care of her, tease her, ruin her. “Sure,” she agreed, pushing her glasses up. “What are we studying?”

You smirked, eyes narrowing as you slid your textbook to the side. “Human reproduction.”

Her blush deepened, but she tried to play it off, oblivious to the trap you were setting. “I’m not sure I can help with that. I mean, I’m more into poetry than—”

You smirked, your eyes tracing the length of her body, admiring the way the fabric of your shirt hugged her frame. “Oh, I think you can. In fact, you might be the perfect study partner.”

Her eyes widened slightly, her lips parting as she fumbled for words. “W-what do you mean?”

You caught her by the hips, guiding her until she stood between your legs, her lithe form pressed against your knees. Her blush deepened, her lips parting as she looked down at you, curiosity and nervousness swirling in her eyes.

“I can show you,” you whispered, running your hands up the sides of her thighs, pushing the hem of the oversized shirt higher and higher, revealing the fabric of her boxers. Your fingertips traced the outline of her bulge, feeling the warmth of her body beneath the thin fabric. Natasha gasped softly, her breath hitching as you palmed her gently.

“See,” you murmured, your hand cupping her clothed bulge. “This is all part of the reproductive process.”

Natasha’s eyes widened, her breath coming out shaky as she looked down at you. “I-I know that,” she stammered, but the way her legs trembled betrayed her completely.

“You didn’t expect to be part of the lesson, though, did you?” you teased, your fingers moving expertly as you tugged her boxers down, letting them pool around her ankles. Natasha whimpered softly, her hand clutching the back of your chair for support as you wrapped your hand around her fully. “So sensitive,” you cooed, stroking her with deliberate slowness, your thumb teasing the tip just enough to make her gasp.

Her entire body tensed, hips instinctively bucking into your hand as you increased the pace slightly, watching her lose composure. "Y-you're—," she tried to speak, but her voice faltered, her body betraying her with every twitch and pulse of her length in your grip.

Natasha's breathing grew more ragged, her chest heaving as she clutched the back of your chair, her knuckles turning white from the grip. Her hips twitched involuntarily into your hand, every stroke sending ripples of pleasure through her body. You could feel her getting closer, the way her length pulsed in your palm, the faint whimpers that escaped her lips.

“Y-you’re gonna make me—" Natasha’s voice was barely a whisper, her words tumbling out in a breathless stammer as she squirmed in your grasp. Her face was flushed, cheeks burning with embarrassment as she tried to hold back, but you had no intention of letting her.

"Let go," you murmured softly, your voice thick with dominance. Your hand worked her faster, the slick slide of your palm coaxing her to the edge. "Come for me, Natty."

It was all she needed. With a strangled moan, her body tensed, hips jerking forward as she came, her release spilling over your hand. Her eyes squeezed shut, her lips parting in a silent cry as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. You watched her, captivated by the sight of her completely undone, trembling in your hand as she rode out her orgasm.

But you weren’t done yet.

Without missing a beat, you leaned forward, your lips brushing against the tip of her sensitive length, tasting the remnants of her release. Natasha shuddered, still trying to catch her breath, but when your tongue flicked out to lick her clean, her whole body jerked, a soft gasp escaping her as you took her into your mouth.

“You taste so good,” you murmured against her, the words muffled by the weight of her in your mouth. Natasha's hips bucked again, her hands gripping the chair for dear life once again as you began to work her with your tongue, teasing her back to hardness.

Natasha's body was still trembling from her first orgasm, her breath coming out in shaky gasps as you continued your slow, teasing licks. She tried to steady herself, gripping the back of your chair harder, but the sensations were too much. Every flick of your tongue made her hips jerk forward involuntarily, and before she even knew it, she was starting to harden again.

You smirked against her length, feeling her twitch as she became fully hard in your mouth. "That's it," you murmured, lips brushing against her sensitive skin. "You're already ready for more, huh?"

Natasha whimpered, her face flushed as she bit her lip, too embarrassed to answer. But you didn’t need her to. You wanted to drive her over the edge again, and this time, you were going to take your time. Wrapping your hand around the base of her cock, you began to stroke her in tandem with the slow, deliberate bob of your head.

The warmth of your mouth surrounded her, your tongue pressing against the underside of her length as you took her deeper, inch by inch. Natasha's knees buckled slightly, and her hands flew to your hair for support, fingers tangling in the strands as she struggled to stay standing. Every moan she tried to stifle only grew louder as you picked up the pace, the wet, obscene sounds of your lips moving over her driving her wild.

"S-so good," she whimpered, her voice barely a whisper, shaking with each breath. "P-please, don’t stop."

You had no intention of stopping. Your hand continued to pump the base of her cock while your mouth worked the rest, hollowing your cheeks as you took her deeper. Natasha's hips bucked forward again, her body betraying her as she chased the pleasure. Her breaths were ragged, and you could feel her getting close again, her thighs trembling as you sucked harder, faster.

She didn’t last long. With a strangled cry, Natasha came, her entire body trembling as her release shot into your mouth. You didn’t falter, swallowing around her, not giving her a chance to recover. Her grip on your hair tightened, her whole body buckling as she tried to remain upright, but the sensation of your tongue still working her through her second orgasm made her lose control completely.

But you weren’t finished.

As soon as you felt her begin to soften slightly, you pulled back just enough to take a deep breath before plunging your mouth down again, taking her all the way to the base in one fluid motion. Natasha let out a strangled moan, her hips jerking as your throat constricted around her. She was completely helpless now, every thought leaving her mind as she lost herself in the feeling of your mouth wrapped so tightly around her. The wet, gagging sounds you made as you deepthroated her pushed her over the edge once again, her body trembling violently as she came a third time, filling your throat with her release.

"Fuck," Natasha gasped, barely able to stand as her legs gave out beneath her, her knees buckling. "I-I can't…"

But the way her hands tightened in your hair told you that she didn’t want you to stop.

As Natasha trembled before you, utterly spent and flushed from her release, you pulled away, wiping your lips with a satisfied smirk. “I think we’re done here,” you said, standing up from your chair, feigning a tone of finality.

The look of disappointment that flickered across her face was instant, and though she tried to hide it, it was exactly what you wanted. A small, embarrassed frown tugged at her lips, her hands fidgeting at her sides, but she avoided meeting your gaze.

"Something wrong?" you teased, letting your words hang in the air. Natasha’s face flushed a deeper shade of red, her mouth opening and closing as if she wanted to respond but couldn't find the words. You grinned, taking a step closer, deliberately invading her space.

"Aw, poor baby," you cooed, running a finger along her cheek, your touch feather-light. "Were you hoping for more? Did you think I was really going to leave you like this?"

Natasha’s breath hitched, her eyes darting up to meet yours, wide and vulnerable. Before she could react, you pushed her down onto your chair, her body falling back against the seat as you straddled her in one swift motion. Her cock, still hard despite her exhaustion, slid inside you with ease, stretching you as you sank down on her with a satisfied sigh.

"Fuck," Natasha gasped, her head falling back against the chair as her hands instinctively grabbed at your hips, trying to ground herself in the moment. Her eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the sensation of being buried inside of you, your warmth enveloping her completely.

Without missing a beat, you turned the chair to face your desk once more, your movements deliberate and controlled as you positioned yourself. Natasha’s grip on your hips tightened, but she didn’t dare move. Not yet.

You settled yourself, leaning forward slightly to grab a pen, pretending to return to your notes. Natasha’s eyes, however, were drawn to your cleavage, the way your breasts were just inches from her face. Her restraint shattered as her hands moved up from your hips, one hand slipping beneath your shirt to cup your breast while the other wrapped around your back to pull you closer.

She began to worship your breasts, her lips eagerly pressing against your skin, kissing and sucking, leaving wet marks along the curve of your chest. The soft weight of your breasts in her hands made her lose all sense of control. Her hips bucked slightly beneath you, the friction sending shocks of pleasure through both of you. You couldn't help but smirk, knowing full well what was coming next.

Natasha’s breathing grew more erratic, her kisses becoming more desperate, and before she even realized what was happening, she was coming inside of you. Her hands stilled, her body tensed beneath yours, her hips jerking up as she filled you with her release, barely fifteen seconds after you’d settled onto her lap.

“F-fuck!” Natasha gasped, her face flushed with shame as the realization hit her. “I—oh god, I didn’t mean to—I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—”

Her words were cut off as her eyes widened in panic, suddenly aware that you hadn’t put a condom on her. Her hands gripped your waist, frozen in place as she stammered out apologies.

"Shh," you murmured, cupping her cheek with a soft smile, brushing her lips with your thumb. "It's okay, Nat. Don't worry." You leaned down, kissing her forehead softly. “I wanted this.”

Natasha looked up at you with wide, bewildered eyes, her blush intensifying as she tried to comprehend your words. “But I—”

You cut her off with another kiss, silencing her before she could spiral further into embarrassment. “I said, it’s okay,” you repeated, your voice firm but gentle. "You did nothing wrong."

Despite her lingering guilt, Natasha nodded, her breathing still unsteady. Her body relaxed beneath you as she wrapped her arms around your waist, resting her head against your chest, her blush deepening as she continued to mumble soft apologies.

For the rest of the day, you stayed that way, continuing to study while cockwarming her, her cock still snug inside you. Every half hour, like clockwork, Natasha’s body betrayed her once more. She’d shudder beneath you, gripping your hips as another orgasm washed over her, filling you again and again.

And each time, her face would flush with embarrassment, her whispered apologies slipping from her lips, but you simply smiled, squeezing her tighter, grounding her in your warmth as you reassured her again and again: this was exactly what you wanted.

a/n again- oops? i'm going back to studying again, see y'all! (no taglist for drabbles, unless y'all want one i suppose)

#romugh writes #romugh's drabbles #romugh dies #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #smutty natty :o #natasha romanoff reader #nerdy natty forever my love #romugh's nerd!natty

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rioromanoffroses · 3 months ago

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Ovulation

G!P Natasha Romanoff x Fem Reader

Warnings: 18+ content, masturbating, oral sex (R and Natasha receiving), finger sucking, dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex (P in V), overstimulation

Summary: You're ovulating while on a mission, causing you to be uncomfortably aroused. Luckily, the agent with you is more than eager to help you out...

WC: 4.1k

The motel was just like any other – grey, dusty and lit only by dim off-white. You would only be here for a night and when you pressed your hand against the cold metal of the radiator, you were glad. You debated whether or not you ask the receptionist about it but keeping your head low was key when travelling on an undercover mission. The more questions you asked and the more times your face was seen and captured by CCTV, the greater the risks. You decided against it.

You inspected the bedroom, following safety procedures which included searching for signs of any electronic devices but luckily, there were none. The bed was a small double with beige, striped sheets that were thinner than you would’ve liked. The back wall was taken up entirely by a sturdy, wooden cupboard that matched the tawny-brown, bedside tables covered in dust. You switched on the lamp and ran your hand over the mattress, noting that you would need to wear thick layers of clothing to bed. You assumed the other bedroom was the same but didn’t bother checking. The other agent could do that.

You sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing your forehead with the palm of your hand. One of the things you hated most about being a woman and a spy was the problems it caused when it conflicted with your cycle. Missions on your period were uncomfortable, draining and painful. Ovulation week was also a mess; you had no way of dealing with the surge of hormones it triggered while on a mission. You made a mental note to take a cold shower after the other agent arrived.

You read over the intel for the upcoming mission while you waited for them, straining your ears for the door. It was a complicated mission; you had to infiltrate the base of a growing terrorist organisation and hack into their systems to gather as much information about them as you could. S.H.I.E.L.D. knew scarily little about the organisation so you were going in almost blind – anything could happen.

The plan was for two agents, including you, to blend in as one of the terrorists to get into the base. You were unaware of the identity of the agent you were paired with. You were curious to know if they were someone you’d worked with before or a complete stranger. You assumed the latter – you were still young and hadn’t been assigned to many difficult missions yet. You tightened your arms around yourself, shivering as the light outside the window was sucked from the sky, the moon blocked out by an array of dark, restless clouds.

“You look cold.” You jumped and leapt on your feet, spinning around to see a woman standing behind you. Her face was painted with a smirk and she looked at you with her hands on her hips, her jade eyes travelling up and down your body. You swallowed. How did you not hear her come in? S.H.I.E.L.D. weren’t exaggerating when they said she was the very best they had at espionage. You didn’t realise you were staring at her until she brought you out of your thoughts, “Cat got your tongue?”

“Uh, sorry,” you said, clearing your throat, “Yeah, I am. East Europe is always freezing at this time of year.” You could feel sweat trickling down your neck. Not only were you ovulating on a mission but you were stuck with an extremely attractive woman during it. You were so fucked.

“Mm, it is,” she said, stepping towards you and offering out her hand. You noticed the electrified branches of azure and emerald running down her arms up to her fingers, pushing up against the skin, your heart thundering against your ribcage. You quickly pulled yourself out of your trance. You were a spy for goodness sake, not the nervous wreck or helpless whore your elevated levels of estrogen were making you feel like. You shook her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said, “I’m Agent Y/l/n.” You pulled your hand away from hers before she could pick up on your clammy palms but unbeknownst to you, she’d already felt them.

“I know,” she said, “I’m Agent Romanoff but to you, it’s Natasha.” You could feel your breath hitch in your throat. Natasha. You could already imagine how those three, pretty syllables would feel falling off your tongue.

You dismissed your dirty thoughts immediately, feeling ashamed of yourself. She was a stranger and your teammate; you seriously needed to pull yourself together. She nodded to the file in your hand, “I see you’re already prepared for the mission.”

“I was just double-checking all the details,” you said. The tight, black shirt and jeans she was wearing hugged her in all the right places, her sculpted arms in full view to you. She must take her training seriously, you thought, I wonder how often she goes to the gym.

“Good,” she said, dropping her bag on the floor, “I already know I’ll enjoy working with you.” You placed your hands behind your back so she couldn’t see your fidgeting fingers. Your gaze fell onto the bag and you frowned.

“Oh, were you planning on sleeping in here?” You said, “I’ll move to the other room then.” She held her arm in front of you as you stepped towards the door.

“There isn’t another room.” You felt your heart drop. You realised the other door must be to the bathroom. You couldn’t imagine how your situation could get any worse, “Are you unhappy with that arrangement?”

“No, not at all,” you lied, “I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.” You swallowed, hard. You started moving towards the door, “I’m going to take a shower,” you mumbled, not waiting for her answer. You fumbled with the handle, cursing under your breath and slammed the door shut behind you.

You didn’t waste any time taking off your clothes and turning on the shower, sighing as the cold droplets collided with your burning skin. The water only offered you a few moments of relief, however. The more you thought about the redhead and how close you’d be together that night, the more you fed the raging arousal between your legs. It became clear that there was only one way you were going to calm yourself down.

You covered your hand with your mouth as you touched yourself, your mind overwhelmed by images of Natasha. It didn’t take long for you to reach your climax and you were certain that the sound of the shower and your hand had muffled out all your moans. You cleaned yourself before stepping out, drying yourself with a towel and getting dressed, praying that your body would be satisfied for the night. When you returned to the bedroom, Natasha was on the bed facing you, resting a pillow on her lap.

“You’re even prettier in real life than you are in your pictures,” she said, the unexpected compliment drowning you in butterflies. You noticed that her cheeks were flushed a bright red and her breaths seemed more laboured than before.

“Really?” you said in disbelief. You had never seen yourself as unattractive but you didn’t think you were anything special either. You were nothing compared to the Goddess in front of you, that was for sure. She chuckled.

“You’re a humble one,” she mused, “How cute.” You couldn’t quite believe her words. Natasha thought you, of all people, were humble? You searched the room, looking for any kind of escape from the conversation and spotted a clock hung above the bed.

“It’s getting late,” you said, trying to hide your stutter, “I’ll sleep on the floor.” You knew it would be uncomfortable but anything was better than being next to Natasha. You’d slept in awkward places before so you’d just have to deal with it.

“No you won’t,” she said, shuffling to the other side of the bed and lifting the sheets, “There’s room for both of us, see?” The amount of room wasn’t the problem – it was the proxemics between you and the internal chaos your body was experiencing. How were you supposed to explain that to Natasha though? You noticed the moment your eyes fell on her that her autonomy wasn’t the same as yours so she wouldn’t understand your dilemma.

“Uh, okay,” you said, knowing you had no choice. You never sounded nervous or vulnerable, not even with your close family and friends. If embarrassment was a type of poison, you’d have collapsed in agony by now. You climbed into bed beside Natasha, turning your back to her. You were reminded of how small the bed was when you shifted slightly and felt her hand brush against the small of your back. You took a deep breath. You were in for a long night.

She switched off the bedside lamp and to your horror, you could hear her unbutton her jeans and discard them on the floor. It was almost as if she was doing it on purpose. You tensed your muscles, forcing yourself to stay as still as humanely possible so there was less chance of you accidentally making contact with each other again.

“That’s better,” she mumbled and you felt her leg against yours as she adjusted her position to make herself more comfortable. You didn’t know how long it took for you to fall asleep with her body so close to yours, her breath creating goosebumps along every part of your skin that it hit. Unfortunately, you found out the hard way that your head was the worst place to escape to you in your current state.

You woke up, gasping and blinded by the darkness around you. You pushed yourself up, feeling the slick on your thighs from the filthy dream you had just experienced. Natasha’s head had been buried between your thighs and you had been an absolute mess beneath her. You could honestly die from humiliation – how could your mind conjure up something so vile while you were sleeping next to her? As you were about to move off the bed and sprint into the bathroom, a light was switched on and you felt a hand tighten around your wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Natasha said, a dark rasp accompanying her words, “You are not going into the bathroom to fuck yourself again.” Your eyes widened and you felt a tide of heat rush to your cheeks. She’d heard you.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, “I shouldn’t have, it was really inappropriate of me…” She silenced you by straddling your hips, trapping you beneath her on the bed. Before you could react, you were distracted by the feeling of something hard against your stomach. You looked down to see Natasha in only her boxers, the bulge pressing against your abdomen straining in its confines. Your jaw dropped. It had never even occurred to you that there was a chance she’d want you too.

“I was going to let you make the first move,” she said, “But you took too long.” From how the other agents described you, she had been so sure your boldness and confidence would’ve caused you to spring onto her immediately. She was annoyed that she’d had to listen to you pleasure yourself in the shower without her but at the same time, Natasha loved that her presence had changed your demeanour so much.

You gulped and looked up into her eyes, seeing that her iris had shrunk into a thin line around her blown pupils. You drunk in the sight of her on top of you, placing your hands on top of her bare, supple thighs, her skin like velvet beneath you.

“Fuck,” you breathed. She tilted up your chin, running her thumb over your bottom lip, wanting a better view of you.

“Tsk tsk. Such a dirty mouth.” You knew you shouldn’t be letting her walk all over you but you were enjoying it more than you wanted to admit. She lifted herself off your body so she could move her other hand to the waistband of your trousers. She hooked a finger underneath the material, “Can I?” You nodded and she dug her nails into your chin, “I want to hear you say it.” You weren’t used to this power dynamic – you were always the more dominant one.

“Yes,” you said, “You can. Please.” She grinned at your obedience and slipped her hand into your pants, feeling you drip onto her fingertips. She groaned.

“Oh God, you’re so wet already,” she said, “I could stuff you with my cock right now if I wanted to.” She removed her hand from your underwear and brought it to your mouth, pushing her fingers past your lips. You sucked her digits hungrily, tasting yourself on your tongue. The sight only drove Natasha even crazier but she also felt a pang of envy, wishing it was her cock in your mouth instead. You felt so good around her fingers.

After pulling her digits out of your mouth, she lowered herself onto your body and she didn’t hesitate to connect her lips with yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. Her lips moulded against yours perfectly and you moved in sync with her, your kisses becoming more and more desperate. She could taste your sweetness as she kissed you and she forced herself to forget about breathing, not wanting to pull away for even a second. Her hands cupped your face and you reached up to tangle yours in her hair, her lips staining yours with garnet lust.

You pulled her even closer against your chest, your mind a buzz of her and her only. You let her tongue slide between your teeth when you felt it press against your bottom lip, making no effort to fight against it with your own. She swallowed your whines, her crotch grinding against your thigh. You had never hooked up with anyone before; you weren’t that kind of person. But you were willing to break all your rules for Natasha and give every part of you to her without hesitation.

Her mouth moved to your jawline, littering your face with kisses, her hands trailing down your arms. You shivered under her feather-light touch, gasping as her teeth sunk into your neck, intending to leave a bruise that everyone else would see. She tugged at the hem of your shirt.

“Take it off,” she said. She leaned back to give you space to pull it over your head and unhook your bra before she pounced on you like an animal. She traced her fingers over your collarbones before venturing further down to your chest, her fingers circling your nipples. You arched into her touch as she caressed your breasts, her movements sending a spark straight to your core. You reached down to cup her bulge, noticing the wet patch on her boxers but she slapped your hand away, “No touching,” she snapped.

“Please, Natasha,” you said, “I need you; it hurts.” She tutted.

“Patience,” she husked. She pulled away from you and started taking off her clothes, freeing her aching breasts before pushing down her boxers. Her erection sprang out from the material, the tip inflamed and ringed by an enraged red, pre-cum dribbling onto the sheets beneath her.

She led back onto the pillow, giving you a full view of her body and you took a moment to admire her. Everything about her was a masterpiece – her facial features, her muscles, her curves. Her crimson hair was a mess around her shoulders and the front pieces had fallen forward, framing her face, “I want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours.” You shook your head.

“No, Natasha,” you pleaded, “It’ll feel so much better in my pussy, I promise…” You fell silent as her eyes burnt into you. You reluctantly crawled over to her on all fours, hesitating before wrapping your mouth around the tip. You tried to irk her, moving as slow as possible but she grabbed a hold of your head and started pushing you down on her cock.

“Suck.” You gagged around her length as she started bucking her hips upwards so she was fucking your mouth but the sound only drove her more. It didn’t take long for you to start moving your head up and down her cock without any guidance, guttural moans escaping Natasha’s mouth from the warmth and skill of your tongue, “Fuck, that shut you up.”

Tears spilt down your cheeks as she hit the back of your throat over and over again, the vibrations of your whines sending even more waves of pleasure through her body. She lifted her legs onto your shoulders so you could grab onto her thighs, spurring you on even more, “I’m so close,” she breathed. Her thrusts were messy and out of rhythm by the time she came undone, spilling her cum into your mouth. You made sure to swallow it all.

She pulled her cock out of your mouth, a mixture of cum and drool coating her length, some of it dribbling down your chin, “You did so well. Such a good slut for me.” She took a moment to catch her breath, watching with eagerness as you pulled down your trousers and your panties that were positively ruined, throwing them on the floor. There were tears of white running down your legs and your clit was visibly swollen. She smirked wickedly, “You want me that bad, huh?”

“Please, I’ve been a good girl,” you whined. You tried to reach for her again but she caught hold of your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Lie down.” You went to lay on your back but she grabbed your shoulders, her nails indenting crescent-moons into your skin before pushing you down onto your stomach. You gasped as her hand pressed against your cunt, her fingers running through your sensitive folds. Her movements were slow and deliberate, intending to increase your need but not give in to it.

“More,” you begged as her thumb massaged your clit. The smell of sex was heavy in the air and your senses were intoxicated by the vanilla and brown sugar fragrance of her perfume. She gave your clit a sharp pinch in response to your pleas, causing you to inhale a sharp intake of breath.

“You’re insatiable,” she said, “You’re begging to be fucked by a woman you just met. Like a whore.” You started rubbing your crotch against her hand, your motions erratic and frantic.

“More, please,” you cried, your thoughts becoming incoherent as the need between your legs started to burn, “Please, Natasha.” She pushed two fingers inside of you, stretching out your entrance but making sure to avoid your g-spot.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want you inside of me,” you groaned as she added a third digit to your cunt. Natasha started to play with her breasts using her free hand; she was burning for you just as badly as you were for and the sound of your begging only worsened her desire. It took all the strength in her body to hold herself back and not ruin you right there and then. She was so glad you couldn’t see her.

“I am inside of you.” You whined.

“I want your cock. I need it inside of me, please.” She grabbed hold of your hips, smirking. As much as she enjoyed seeing you so needy for her, her patience was wearing thin.

“Then you’ll take it all.” She suddenly rammed inside you without any warning, not being able to resist you for any longer and you cried out in shock. Your initial discomfort was drowned by explosive bliss as Natasha filled you to the brim, hitting places you didn’t even know existed. She was met with no resistance as she rutted into you despite her size which stretched you out deliciously. Your pussy was so much better than she could’ve ever imagined.

She flattened herself against your back, needing to feel more of you. She grunted against your ear as her hips slammed into your ass with each powerful stroke. You were dizzy with pleasure as her speed increased, your moans intensifying as she started to pound into your sweet spot. She was older and more experienced than anyone you had been with before which was evident in how she was making you feel. Your body was coursing with more pleasure than you thought was humanely possible.

The knot in your stomach was tightening fast and the sounds of your wet cunt were echoing through the room, “Oh fuck, you’re so tight,” Natasha said, not caring about her dignity anymore, too lost in the sensation of your warmth clenching around her cock, “Tell me how you feel baby.”

“I feel so, so good,” you said, “Please, don’t stop.” You looked back at her and she tilted her head so your lips could connect for a moment before her mouth moved to your shoulder. She sucked on the soft skin there, slowing down so she could sink deeper into your cunt. She could feel your legs trembling beneath her own as you pushed back in rhythm with each of her thrusts.

“How close are you?” Natasha didn’t want to admit it but she was already teetering on the edge, struggling to hold back from how well you were taking her. You could feel her movements become sloppy as more and more of your juices gushed from your entrance.

“So close,” you said, your walls clenching even harder around her cock. It only took a few more thrusts before you could feel gasoline flood your bloodstream, ready to be set on fire, “Natasha, f-fuck…” You didn’t even have to say it.

“Let go for me,” she commanded. You let the knot in your stomach unravel, screaming her name as all the nerves in your body were electrified, sparks of searing light shooting across your vision. No drug could replicate the state of euphoria you were both lost in as your walls were drowned by white, your cunt milking her cock dry until there wasn’t a single drop left to give. You had never experienced an orgasm so strong, so prolonged, so incredible. You expected Natasha to stop after fucking you through your high but instead, she picked up her pace again. You whimpered.

“Natasha, that’s enough…” She pulled out of you and flipped you onto your back before slipping straight back inside of you. Your eyes widened.

“What’s wrong?” she mocked, “You begged for my cock, slut. Isn’t this what you wanted?” She smirked when you didn’t give her an answer, already drowning in ecstasy again despite the building ache between your legs. You were losing your grip on reality as the new angle gave her access to more places inside of you and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you were overstimulated.

She didn’t take her eyes off you, wanting to see your reaction to everything she gave you. You were growing more sensitive by the second and you could feel her cock throbbing against your walls each time you squeezed her, drops of perspiration gleaming on every inch of your skin. You reached up to cup Natasha’s breasts, the extra layer of stimulation pushing her towards yet another climax in record time.

She started to rub your clit, hoping to speed up your release but it was becoming evident she’d have to release without you. You wrapped your legs around her waist, pulling her even closer and for a moment, she forgot your pleasure, getting too lost in her own. She tore her eyes away from you and threw her head back, panting like a dog.

“Cum inside me,” you said and at the sound of your words, she didn’t hesitate, letting her orgasm crash into her body with full force. She moaned your name between gasps as she was hit by waves of bliss that slowly decreased in intensity as the milliseconds passed, pulsing through her entire body. She finally pulled out of you and collapsed on the bed. You both gasped for breath, your thighs and the sheets beneath you stained with lust. You were glad you hadn’t climaxed this time – you didn’t think you’d have survived it.

“That was fucking incredible,” Natasha admitted, turning her head to face you. You nodded in agreement, too fucked out to form a sentence, your limbs still shaking from adrenaline.

That morning, Natasha woke you up with her cock between your legs, already hard and ready for another round. Her hands only left your body during the mission and three days later after its success, she didn’t hesitate to fuck you senseless until you passed out.

A/n - I have an idea for part two so let me know if that's something you'd like.

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