#nr🕷️🕸️

[natashasilverfox]

This is one of the most beautifully written, fluffy and heartbreaking Natasha Romanoff stories I’ve ever read. You’ve equally had me in tears, laughing and smiling throughout the entire story…. Thank you!🥹❤️💐

Someone Familiar

Natasha Romanoff x Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 7.6K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing worked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Natasha’s head shook in anticipation of your confusion.

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

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

You hated the people who had taken her childhood.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her lips lingered by your ear.

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

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

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Natasha circled the date of your sonogram on the calendar. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Mickey or Minnie.’ She suggested drily.

Your lips pressed together as you tried not to laugh. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Natasha made your heart beat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t have the right words. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Natasha’s breathing regulated and you confirmed your suspicion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘What was her name?’ You asked simply.

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

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

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

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

Natasha’s smile had been shy at your suggestion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You tilted your head questioningly.

“Why not?’ You challenged immediately. 

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

‘Her mother is Russian.’ You emphasised pointedly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The tears began to catch up with your words.

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

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

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Becoming Mom.’

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

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

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

Everything about her emanated a precarious kind of bliss.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Yelena, aged 0 - 1 month’

When Natasha looked back at you, she seemed uncertain. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A wave of understanding rushed over you.

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

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

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

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

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

[wallpaper-inside-my-heart]

💚 Smoshblr December Wrapped #3 💚

What are smoshblr's favourite movies?

Two movie series ended up in the first/second spot!

Nr. 1 are the Spiderverse ❤️🕷️🕸️movies! (with 3 votes each for both entries)

Nr.2 is the How to train your Dragon 🖤🐉❤️ saga! (2 votes + 2 honorable mentions)

More details under the cut!

We also have a couple of movies that each got 3 votes in total:

Since ppl picked such a wide variety of movies (140 movies total!!), I wanted to do smth a little different with the wrap-up of this ask!

So I created this letterboxd list 🧡💚💙, where y'all can check out everyone's recs!

The movies are sorted by their amount of votes! All movies from Dead Poets Society to Little Women got 2 votes each 💛💙 And starting at "Trick or Treat" are all the movies that got honorable mentions.🫶

Bonus: Shayne guesses series comparison 🤔

I was about to make a list based on the actual Smosh vid as well, but then I found out some lovely soul had already created one on letterboxd! 💞

Fun Fact: the Smoshblr picks have a 19% overlap with the Smosh cast & crew picks! (20/105). (three of those only thanks to Shayne's own picks at the end lmao)

Also there were two movies with exactly two votes on both lists: Back to the Future & Forrest Gump, which I think is super fun! 😊

Notes:

For anyone on smoshblr, who sees this post and didn't participate in the dec ask game: I'd love to include your picks on this list as well🩵 to make it even more inclusive for this community! So feel free to let me know on this post or via DM, if you have your own top 3 movies, that you want to add to this list! 🤗

Also to anyone who also uses letterboxd: Lemme know how many movies of each list you've already watched! 👀 (mine are 28/105 & 39/140) + I'd love to follow y'all, since I'm always curious about what my friends are watching 🫶

I promise smosh characters will be next! (I'm almost done with those stats)! I just got movie brainworms over the weekend! 🙈💜

[natashasilverfox]

Yesss a new chapter! I’m so happy you decided to make this a series. I’m looking forward to all the shenanigans and Widow is such a cutie!💖

A Feline Connection Part 2

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha has an unexpected reunion while on a mission.

Part 1 | Part 2

Warnings: light fluff, slight angst, mention of gun

Words: 4703

Natasha sits at a small outdoor table, blending effortlessly with the weekend crowd outside a nondescript café. Dressed casually in a simple jacket, jeans, and sunglasses, she appears to be just another city dweller enjoying a quiet morning coffee.

Beneath the surface, however, her sharp eyes remain focused on the apartment building across the street, subtly monitoring every individual entering or leaving. 

The team had received a tip suggesting that one of the building’s occupants might have ties to the city’s criminal underworld and could possess some information about an upcoming weapons deal they were investigating.

Natasha’s mission is to uncover more, though the lead is vague. They only know that the target supposedly resides in this area, leaving Natasha with little to do but wait and watch for anything suspicious.

Maintaining her undercover guise, Natasha casually lifts her coffee cup to her lips. Just as the rim touches her mouth, she feels a gentle nudge against her leg. 

Startled, she frowns slightly and glances under the table to investigate.

Wide, familiar yellow eyes stare back at her, unblinking.

For a second, Natasha considers the possibility that it’s just a coincidence. 

There must be dozens of black cats in the city, but when her gaze shifts to the sleek gold tag hanging from the cat’s collar, she reads the ironic name engraved on it.

Widow meows, placing her paw on Natasha’s leg and nudging her again, this time with more insistence, as if greeting an old friend.

Natasha can’t help the small smile that tugs at her lips.

“Hey, it’s been a while,” she murmurs, lifting Widow onto her lap. She gently scratches behind the cat’s ears, feeling the soft, familiar fur beneath her fingers. 

“Did she lose you again?” Natasha asks the cat with a slight chuckle.

Before Natasha can react, a soft, amused huff appears near her ear, followed by a low voice.

“Is that really how you think of me?”

Natasha starts slightly, momentarily caught off guard by the fact that she hadn’t sensed your approach. She turns her head to find you standing beside her with an amused smirk, your eyes gleaming with playful mischief.

You reach out and gently push the bridge of her sunglasses up, fully covering her eyes. 

“Does this disguise really fool anyone?” you tease.

Natasha clears her throat, recovering her composure quickly, though she still feels a slight heat on her face caused by your close proximity.

“It works well enough,” she replies smoothly as you move to the other side of the table.

You chuckle, casually resting your hands on the back of the empty chair across from her, raising a brow in question.

“Mind if we join you?” you ask, your voice carrying that familiar blend of ease and flirtation.

Natasha hesitates, her eyes flicking toward the apartment building she’s been watching all morning. She knows she should stay focused on the mission, but the unexpected reunion with you and the cat resting in her lap has thrown her off balance. 

Noticing her hesitation, you lean forward, your voice dropping to a whisper. 

“You know,” you say, glancing around dramatically before locking eyes with her, “it’s a lot less suspicious if you’re sitting with someone.”

Your knowing grin makes Natasha sigh, but still, the corners of her mouth twitch upwards in amusement. She gives a small nod toward the empty chair across from her.

“Alright,” she concedes. “But Widow stays with me.”

The black cat meows as if in agreement, her body brushing more snugly against her lap.

You grin wider, pleased at her acceptance, and pull out the chair to settle in across from her, the faintest glint of fondness softening your gaze at the two of them.

“I wouldn't dare argue with either of you.”

As Widow curls up, her purring reverberates softly in Natasha’s lap as she strokes the cat’s fur. 

After a long morning of heightened vigilance, this unexpected visit brings a strange but welcome sense of calm. The tension in her body unravels as she savors this brief moment of normalcy, an unusual pause in her otherwise relentless routine. 

“So,” you begin, your voice pulling her back from the quiet comfort of the moment, “who are you watching?”

Natasha’s gaze sharpens, but she keeps her tone casual, taking a sip of her coffee before responding, “Who says I’m watching anyone? I’m just here for the coffee.”

You raise a brow, your smile growing. 

“Right. Because the Black Widow spends her weekends blending in with civilians, sipping coffee, and definitely not on a mission.”

“Exactly,” Natasha replies smoothly with a smirk.

Releasing an exaggerated sigh, your expression turns mockingly disappointed as you remark.

“And here I was, thinking you sought me out specifically.” 

Widow lifts her head at your words, releasing a chastising cry in offense. 

“Sorry,” you amend, glancing at the cat with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. “I mean, us.” 

Natasha chuckles at the exchange, allowing herself to indulge in the banter to steer the conversation away from her mission. 

“Isn’t it more likely the other way around? After all, you approached me first,” she counters with a teasing smirk. 

You scoff playfully. “Ah, I see—someone’s pretty confident in herself.”

Raising a brow, Natasha gestures pointedly to the cat nestled comfortably in her lap. 

“I’m just basing it on facts. Why else would you name your cat after me?” 

You narrow your eyes, a playful glint returning.

“Who says she’s named after you?” 

Natasha’s smirk widens as she leans back, clearly enjoying the upper hand. 

“You’re not denying it.”

“And I’m not admitting it either,” you shoot back, leaning forward with a grin, resting your chin on your hand as you meet her eyes.

“It’s alright,” Natasha teases with a nonchalant shrug. “I’ve had my fair share of admirers. There’s no shame in being a fan.” 

With an amused scoff, you gesture toward the apartment building as you reply with a sarcastic tone.

“Yes, you’ve caught me. My apartment is filled with Black Widow merch,” you smirk at her, adopting a playfully serious expression.

Your words make Natasha pause in her playful banter, her brows knitting slightly at the casual mention of your home. She glances briefly at the building she’s been watching, remembering the intel she received.

“You live here?” she asks, her tone more curious than accusatory.

Widow raises her head at her and lets out another indignant meow, clearly displeased by the oversight.

Natasha pets the cat’s head gently, an apology in her touch. 

“Sorry,” she corrects, “the two of you live here?” 

“Yep, third floor,” you answer. “We were just on our way back when Widow spotted you.”

Widow meows again, almost as if confirming the information, nuzzling Natasha’s hand affectionately. 

At the new information, Natasha taps her fingers lightly on the tabletop, humming in thought. She wonders if the intel the team received might have been about you—or perhaps someone from your past. 

Before she can delve deeper into the idea, your hand slips over hers, gently stopping the movement.

“I’m not the one you’re looking for,” you say, your voice serious enough to catch her attention. 

There’s a knowing look in your eyes that Natasha recognizes but can’t fully understand. Yet, instinctively, she feels she can trust you—at least for now.

Natasha’s gaze drops to where your hand covers hers, feeling the warmth of your touch seep through her skin. The contact sends a familiar stirring through her, the same unexpected feeling that often rises whenever you’re near. 

She’s still not sure whether to welcome it or resist it.

Natasha looks back into your eyes, her curiosity piqued, ready to probe deeper with questions.

But before she can speak, you gently turn her hand over in yours, your fingers tracing light, random patterns across her palm.

“At your ten,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Natasha’s pulse quickens, both from the delicate sensation of your touch and the subtle way you’ve pointed out something she missed.

Despite the distracting warmth radiating from your fingers, she discreetly shifts her gaze in the direction you indicated.

Sure enough, a man walks toward the apartment building, his posture tense, clad in a plain jacket and a cap pulled low over his face, clearly trying to avoid attention.

Widow’s body tenses in her lap and her ears flatten against her head as she lets out a low hiss in his direction.

Natasha attempts to soothe the cat’s nerves with gentle strokes.

“He moved in down the hall a few weeks ago,” you continue casually, not looking up, still focused on tracing her palm. “Seems normal enough, but I’ve recognized his type before.”

After calming Widow to the point where her tail is no longer lashing, Natasha’s eyes return to you.

“You’ve been watching him?”

With a faint sigh of exasperation, you reply, “Didn’t have much of a choice. He’s taken an…unwelcome interest in me lately.”

Curious, Natasha glances back at the man, her eyes narrowing as she observes him. As if sensing her attention, he pauses mid-step, his gaze locking onto your table—specifically, onto you.

His body language shifts, stiffening with barely concealed interest and tension.

Before Natasha can react, your fingers slowly and deliberately intertwine with hers. With a playful smirk, you lift her hand to your lips, pressing a soft kiss against her skin.

Natasha snaps her attention back to you, eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected gesture.

"Maybe that'll finally give him a hint," you remark nonchalantly, lowering your entwined hands back to the table as though the intimate moment were perfectly ordinary. 

Natasha blinks, momentarily thrown by the shift in dynamic.

A now familiar warmth rises in her cheeks, and she's grateful her sunglasses hide the flustered look creeping across her face.

Natasha clears her throat softly after a beat, regaining her composure. Glancing subtly in the man's direction, she's relieved to have a reason not to meet your gaze.

He’s no longer standing there—storming away instead, his frustration and confusion apparent in the hurried way he vanishes into the building.

Before Natasha can fully process everything that just happened, Widow hops onto the table. Her little paws rest on top of your joined hands as if wanting to be part of the moment. 

That touch settles her as she returns to her previous cool demeanor.

“You were using me,” Natasha accuses, her voice carrying a mix of mock indignation and dry amusement.

You grin, utterly unfazed. 

“And in return, I gave you valuable intel to move your little operation along.”

Natasha’s eyes narrow playfully with a slight huff. 

“You could’ve just told me from the start.”

Your smirk widens, your eyes gleaming with mischief. 

“But where’s the fun in that?”

Natasha shakes her head, her lips twitching upward in a reluctant smile. Despite your methods and actions, you did give her a new lead on her mission. 

Though, now she has to handle this new situation—the tension between you two.

Even though the man is gone, you haven’t released her hand, and she doesn’t pull away either. 

Something else lingers in the air between you, something unspoken but undeniable. 

Widow nudges her head against your hands as if offering her approval of the unfolding moment. 

Natasha’s gaze drifts to the cat before her eyes return to you, her expression softening.

“You two never came by the Compound after that night,” Natasha comments softly, her tone casual but tinged with a hint of disappointment.

You shrug lightly and reply with a sly grin, “I’m sure Stark didn’t appreciate how easily I bypassed his security system.”

Natasha chuckles lightly at the memory. 

“Telling him about that was the best part. You should’ve seen his face.”

You let out a soft laugh, the moment lingering in comfortable silence.

Eventually, you slowly release her hand, your fingers trailing against hers before pulling away completely. 

Standing up, you adjust your jacket with casual ease. 

“Well, now that you know where we live,” you say, nodding toward the building, “feel free to drop by whenever you’re not too busy saving the world.”

You gesture to the little cat, who’s now swatting lightly at Natasha’s coffee cup in a playful manner, adding, “I’m sure Widow wouldn’t mind your company.”

Natasha’s eyes twinkle with amusement, catching the cup before it could fall and giving the cat a tiny scratch on her head before returning her attention to you.

“Just her?” Natasha raises a brow, the question hanging between you with playful intent.

You don’t answer directly, but the slight smile on your face says enough. 

“Good luck with your mission, Miss Black Widow,” you say softly, your tone shifting to something more sincere before turning toward the apartment building. 

Widow gives her a soft meow goodbye before hopping off the table and climbing into your arms.

Natasha watches you walk away, her gaze lingering a little longer than necessary. Eventually, her mind returns to the mission but not without a fleeting thought of you.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha leans against the rooftop's edge, her eyes fixed on the target’s apartment in the building across her. The cool night air brushes against her face, but her focus remains sharp. 

You were right. The man you pointed out is involved with one of the organizations suspected of orchestrating a major weapons deal. His hidden familial ties and shady movements had confirmed it.

After bugging his phone and tracking his movements for days, Natasha discovered that tonight would be crucial—a drop-off containing the specs for some of the weapons in the deal and where they came from. 

She watches patiently as the man opens his door to receive a small package from an unknown figure.

The exchange is brief, and once the door shuts, the man places the package carelessly on his counter.

As Natasha considers a plan to obtain the package, something causes the man to tense, and he cautiously turns back toward the door. 

Her hand instinctively moves toward her own weapon, prepared to intervene when she spots him pull a gun, keeping it hidden behind his back as he cracks the door open again.

The man’s posture relaxes as he realizes who’s on the other side of the door, and he hides his weapon in the back of his waistband.

Natasha observes as his overly confident bravado takes over, and it becomes clear he’s trying to impress someone. 

Natasha’s view of the visitor is blocked, but judging by the man’s lowered guard, she assumes this person doesn’t pose an immediate threat. 

Whoever they are, though, they seem to hold some influence over him.

After a brief conversation that results in the man turning off the lights and slipping out of the apartment, led by the unseen visitor, Natasha seizes the opportunity to retrieve the package before he returns.

With practiced precision, she shoots her grappling hook across the gap between the buildings and swings silently onto the balcony outside the man’s apartment. Carefully picking the lock on the window, she slips inside without making a sound. 

But as she steps into the room, she quickly realizes something is wrong. 

The small package, which had been resting on the counter moments ago, is now gone. 

Natasha scans the area, her eyes darting around the room. 

Had it fallen somewhere?

A faint sound reaches her ears as Natasha walks around the room—movement just behind her.

She whirls around, gun raised, ready to face whatever threat is lurking in the shadows.

But the only thing she’s met with is darkness.

Her eyes narrow as her instincts scream that something is off. She’s sure she heard something.

She focuses on the shadows for a moment longer when a pair of familiar yellow eyes suddenly blink open, glowing softly in the dark. 

Natasha lowers her weapon, momentarily caught off guard by the sight.

Widow emerges from the darkness, its head tilted curiously as she approaches Natasha. The corner of the small package is clutched tightly in her mouth.

Natasha lets out an incredulous huff. 

“Really?” she mutters in disbelief as she kneels and waves the cat closer.

Widow trots over and jumps into Natasha’s arms without hesitation, the package still firmly between her teeth. 

Standing up, Natasha tries to pry the package from the cat’s mouth gently, but each time she reaches for it, Widow swats at her hand and shifts her head, making it impossible to grab.

“You’re not serious,” Natasha sighs, exasperated. 

But Widow only stares up at her with those wide, innocent eyes, completely unfazed by the situation.

Before Natasha can try again, she hears footsteps approaching from the hallway. 

Instantly, she reacts, slipping out of the window with Widow still in her arms, her movements quick and silent. She carefully closes the window behind her, ensuring everything looks untouched, before flattening herself against the outside wall.

The light flickers on inside the apartment, and Natasha hears voices. She listens closely, picking up snippets of conversation.

“Thanks again, I don’t know what I would have done without your help,” your voice floats through the window, laced with exaggerated helplessness.

It’s not like your usual demeanor and tone. You were clearly playing a part. 

“Anytime,” the man responds, his tone gruff, but Natasha can tell he’s trying too hard to sound confident. “You know, if it doesn’t work out with—” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I really have to go!” you interrupt quickly, your voice fading as you move toward the door. “Have a good night!” 

Natasha hears the door close with a soft click, signaling your exit. She waits a moment longer before making her own move, descending silently into the nearby alley below.

Landing with ease, she looks down at Widow, still cradled in her arms.

The cat is now lazily gnawing on the corner of the package, completely unbothered by the chaos of the situation. 

Her claws grip the package tightly, almost possessively.

Natasha shakes her head in disbelief, her lips curving into a small, amused smile despite herself. 

“You two have a lot of explaining to do,” she mutters, glancing at the apartment building.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

The moment you open the door, your eyes widen in surprise at the sight of Natasha standing there.

“A bit late for a visit, don’t you think?” you tease with a playful grin, leaning casually against the door frame, trying to mask your surprise.

But Natasha doesn’t return your smile. 

Instead, she tilts her head slightly, one brow arched with an unimpressed expression and pulls her jacket open just enough to reveal the black cat nestled comfortably in her arms. 

Widow is still clinging stubbornly to the small package in her claws. 

Your grin falters immediately, your gaze dropping from Natasha’s face to Widow and the damning evidence she’s holding. 

Realization hits you like a wave, and your once-confident smile dissolves into a look of sheepish acknowledgment.

“Oh,” you murmur, awkwardness settling in as you glance between Natasha's unimpressed stare and Widow's innocent eyes.

“Well,” you sigh, stepping aside to open the door wider, “you might as well come in.”

Natasha steps past you, her eyes sweeping the room in quiet observation. 

Your apartment is neat, save for the scattered cat toys littering the room. Natasha takes it all in quietly, her gaze eventually falling back on you—specifically, your night attire. 

You’re wearing a black oversized t-shirt and shorts, casual and comfortable, but it’s the symbol on the front of the shirt that grabs her attention.

“Nice shirt,” she comments, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

You glance down and immediately realize what she’s referring to—the iconic red hourglass symbol of the Black Widow emblazoned across your chest. Rolling your eyes, you cross your arms defensively over the logo. 

“This doesn’t prove anything,” you remark. “I’ve got shirts with the other Avengers symbols too.”

“Sure you do,” Natasha teases, clearly enjoying the moment before her attention shifts to the cat in her arms. She nods toward Widow, who’s still gripping the package as if it were a prized possession. 

“How do you get her to let go of things?” 

A proud grin spreads across your face at the cat’s actions.

Walking to the kitchen, you rummage through a cabinet, pulling out a small tube of cat treats before returning to Natasha’s side.

Tearing it open, you hand it to her.

Widow’s sharp yellow eyes instantly zero in on the treat. Natasha, intrigued, waves it in front of the stubborn cat. 

“How about a little trade?” she offers. 

The cat’s eyes follow the snack in contemplation. Slowly but surely, her grip on the package loosens, her claws retracting as she reaches a paw toward the treat.

Seeing the opportunity, Natasha quickly snatches the package and shakes out its contents—a USB drive, which she tucks into her jacket.

When Natasha still has not promptly given her reward, Widow yowls in protest, having already upheld her end of the deal.

Natasha huffs lightly at the exaggerated behavior but relents and offers the treat to the eager cat, who devours it with delicate bites.

“I guess that means mission accomplished,” you quip, attempting to bring some levity back into the room. 

But Natasha doesn’t laugh. She glances up at you, her expression shifting as her playful demeanor fades. 

“You said you didn’t do this kind of thing anymore,” she says, her voice edged with accusation. 

You shrug, hands raised in defense.

“Technically, I didn’t,” you reply, though Natasha’s piercing stare cuts through your weak deflection.  

With a tired sigh, you rub the back of your neck before continuing, "Remember that post I asked you to take down?"

Natasha nods slightly, her eyes never leaving yours, silently urging you to continue.

“Well, some of my old associates saw it before you did. And let’s just say…we didn’t part ways on the best of terms.”

Natasha places the finished snack on the table, her fingers moving to absently scratch behind Widow’s ears as she processes the situation. Her eyes narrow, her tone shifting to something more serious as concern creeps into her voice.

“So, they’re forcing you to steal for them?”

You lean back against the counter, exhaling a heavy breath.

“They have leverage,” you reveal cryptically. “If I don’t cooperate...things get complicated.”

Her fingers pause in Widow’s fur, her expression hardening as the situation sinks in. 

“Then why help me? Wouldn’t that put you at risk?”

You manage a wry smile.

“If the Avengers get involved, they can’t hold it against me, right?”

You gesture toward her, adding teasingly, “I mean, what can one simple thief do against Earth’s mightiest heroes?”

Natasha shakes her head, frustration and disbelief mixing in her features.

“That doesn’t guarantee they’ll leave you alone.”

“And like I told you before,” you say, voice soft but resolute, “let me handle it. You’ve played your part. Now go be a hero to someone else.”

Natasha huffs, more in disbelief than anger.

“So you used me. Again.”

Her tone has no malice, but the sting of truth lingers.

You step closer and reach out to adjust the collar of her jacket. Your fingers brush her skin, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“Like I said,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, “you shouldn’t get involved with someone like me.”

Widow purrs contentedly in the stillness, oblivious to the tension in the room, nuzzling against Natasha’s hand affectionately.

Natasha’s gaze softens slightly at the sight of the cat—remembering what you once said about Widow being a good judge of character. 

If this little creature, with all her instincts, trusts someone with a past like hers, then surely there must be a similar reason she chooses to be with you.

When Natasha looks up, her eyes lock onto yours, steady and unwavering.

“What if I want to be?” she asks quietly, her voice laced with something far more than just concern.

Your breath catches, the vulnerability in her words taking you by surprise. You quickly school your expression, forcing neutrality even as your heart pounds in your chest.

Natasha steps closer, the heat of her body brushing against yours as close as she can, her gaze piercing.

“Do you want me to be?” she asks softly, the challenge clear in her tone.

For a moment, you meet her gaze, steady and unrelenting, but your eyes betray you. They flicker, just briefly, to her lips.

Natasha catches it. Her lips part slightly, and the air between you thickens with tension, both of you standing on the precipice of something neither can quite name.

But you break first.

You step back, clearing your throat as if that could dispel the weight of what just passed between you.

“As tempting as that is,” you say, your voice thick with the emotions you’re trying so hard to suppress, “I can’t let anyone else get caught up in this.”

Natasha doesn’t move, her eyes searching yours for more explanation.

However, you reach for Widow instead, gently lifting the cat from her arms, using the small creature as a shield between you.

“This one’s already enough trouble,” you joke weakly.

Natasha’s gaze lingers, watching you with a mix of exasperation and something deeper—something you refuse to name. She tilts her head, her voice soft.

“You know my job is to help people, right?”

You swallow hard, the playful smirk returning, though it feels hollow.

“And I’ll let you know if I ever need it.”

Natasha narrows her gaze, unconvinced. “Really?”

Rolling your eyes, you offer a small concession. 

“Fine. Check in whenever. You’ve got my number, remember? And I’ll even send you cute pictures of Widow often to keep you from worrying too much.” 

Widow chooses that moment to let out a soft meow, raising her paws beside her face as if on cue.

Natasha’s stern expression falters, a tiny smile tugging at her lips at the sight. But even as she shakes her head in resignation, the tension between you both lingers, unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

With a small sigh, Natasha accepts your decision and steps toward the door. As she reaches for the handle, she pauses, her hand hovering there momentarily before turning to look at you again.

“If you ever decide that you don’t have to handle everything on your own,” she says softly, “you know where to find me.” 

You nod, your mask of indifference slipping back into place.

“You’d be the first one I’ll call,” you promise playfully.

Natasha lingers for a moment longer, her eyes searching yours for something that never comes. She finally opens the door and steps through, pausing briefly before turning back to you.

“Take care of yourself. Both of you,” she whispers before leaving, the door clicking softly behind her. 

The room feels emptier in her absence, the warmth of her presence fading.

Widow stirs in your arms, hopping onto the counter and letting out a soft, sad sound as if sensing the change in the air.

You lean heavily against the counter, exhaling a deep breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Natasha's words replay in your mind, sinking deeper into your heart than you will admit. 

But as always, you push it aside. There’s no room for doubt, no space for second-guessing—not in your world.

Uncurling your fist, the USB falls from your hand—swapped from Natasha’s pocket with another containing misleading data. 

Widow trots over to the item on the counter, nudging it with her paw before turning to you, letting out a sharp meow, almost as if scolding you.

“I know,” you sigh, guilt settling in as you scoop her back into your arms.

You stroke her gently, your hand brushing over a slightly raised patch of fur. The reminder of what's beneath fills you with concern for the little feline and your position.

Widow meows again, tilting her head curiously, oblivious to your worry. You force a reassuring smile, though it never quite reaches your eyes.

As your gaze drifts toward the window, your expression falters. You watch Natasha’s silhouette disappear into the shadows, a heavy sigh escaping your lips.

“She really shouldn’t get involved with someone like me,” you whisper sadly, giving Widow one last scratch behind the ears before turning away.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 1 | Part 2

a/n: I have decided to make this into a series. It's probably not going to be like my other one with extensive plotlines and such (I don't think). But maybe leaning more toward light-hearted adventures and interactions between the two (and Widow). Thanks again for reading! I hope you'll enjoy this series too!

[natashasilverfox]

I love this!❤️

A Family of Her Own

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha has a family

Note: this is set during BW film. I wrote this on my phone because I’m still on this ship. I don’t know if it’s any good but one of the only movies they had on the ship was Black Widow and I decided to write it. So hey!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah. I’m sure."

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

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

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

"I have friends."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

Stella.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wasn’t time to go home yet.

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that right?”

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

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

Her son.

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

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

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

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

“That is not my story.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

*******

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

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

“What is this place?”Alexei asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mama!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stella nods. "Okay."

"Are you hungry?" You speak up.

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

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

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

"He's grown," she says.

"He has," you reply, watching her.

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

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

"He is, sweetie."

Natasha puts Stella down.

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

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

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

Nick simply reaches his arms out much like his sister.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can you bring a shark? Please?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

You bite your lip and shake your head.

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

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

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

"How long are you staying?" You ask.

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

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

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

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

You frown and tilt your head.

"Taken care of it?"

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

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

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

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

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

"I've missed you, too."

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

"I love you," she says.

"I love you." You respond.

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

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

She pulls away, her forehead resting against yours.

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

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

Natasha gives a small smile.

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

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

Natasha laughs and turns toward the door.

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

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

"Who are they?" Stella asks.

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

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

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

Natasha sighs.

"There's a lot to talk about."

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

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

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

"This is awkward," Yelena whispers.

"Just give it time," Melina says.

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

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

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

"No, no barbies," Melina responds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It is," Natasha says.

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

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

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

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

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

You smile politely. "My name is y/n Romanoff-L/n. My maiden name was y/l/n. I was born in 1986. I'm 35. I have a degree in computer science. I met Natasha shortly after her defection but we didn’t start dating until years later.”

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

"Yes," You smile.

"And when did you get married?"

"Four years ago," Natasha supplies.

"This is real news," Alexei states.

Natasha chuckles. "We've been together for a while. 13 years."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You kind of are," You chuckle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I work with Wanda," Natasha states.

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

It wasn't always easy," You admit.

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

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

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

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

"Your life is so complicated," Yelena sighs.

"Tell me about it," Natasha laughs.

[natashasilverfox]

I love this so much it’s so cute!

Across the Natashaverse

Summary: Through a small accident, you end up in another universe. What happens when you find out that your relationship with Natasha is very different here?

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Life is good.

No missions for the week, done with training and fresh off the shower, you walk down the halls of the Compound.

“Someone’s in a good mood” Wanda comments when you join her at the kitchen. “Did Natasha change her mind about the date?”

Your smile falls immediately and her eyes widen.

“Shoot, I’m sorry”

“Nah, it’s fine” you steal a cookie from her plate and shrug your shoulders. “It was two weeks ago. She doesn’t see me that way, I get it”

“I don’t think it’s that” Wanda insists and you smile.

“You’re a hopeless romantic, Maximoff” you lean forward and place a kiss on the top of her head. The brunette chuckles, going back to the book she was reading.

As you walk to your room, you try not to think of Natasha. But it’s a small world, and she’s on her way to the gym, America Chavez right behind her.

“I’m on training duty” the redhead explains. “Wanna join us?”

“I have so much paperwork” you lie, because you’re very tired and have been looking forward to a nap. “Kick some butt, America”

“I’ll try” she doesn’t sound convinced at all.

Natasha smiles at you, waiting for your signature wink that always gets her heart racing.

But there’s not even a look back as you go to your room.

She really screwed up this time.

—

You weren’t exactly lying about the paperwork, and you work on it for half an hour to feel like you’re doing something productive with your day.

With a yawn, you stand up from the desk in your room and walk towards the bed. As you’re about to plop down, there’s a shift in the room and you land on your ass, the bed on the other side of the wall.

“What the fuck?” you say, looking around.

The room looks different. It’s the same size, but none of your stuff is there. Same thing with the hallways. It’s the Compound, but at the same time… it’s not. You walk out of the room, this time on spy mode, ready to take down the imminent threat.

“Y/N?” Natasha calls behind you and you rush to her side.

“Nat, hey. There’s something wrong. Stay close” you take her hand, and she stops you with a pull.

“I’ll say”

“Huh?” you turn, only to find her face inches away from yours.

“Where’s your wedding ring?”

“My… what?” you look down at your hands, confused. Natasha moves her face closer and you can’t focus on anything else.

“Oh, I see. Are you still angry about the other day? Because I can totally make it up to you, detka” Natasha whispers seductively against your lips, leaving a trail of kisses all the way to the shell of your ear.

“Nat.. uh… I think…”

“Use your words, pretty girl” she smiles, her hand going up your shirt to caress the skin.

And suddenly, she looks down, frowning.

“Where’s your scar?”

“I don’t have a…”

Natasha turns into a whole different person, placing you in a chokehold and holding both your arms down.

“Who are you? Are you a skrull?”

“I don’t know what that is” you say, gasping for air. “Wait, are they the ones Carol works with?”

“Who is Carol?”

“Captain Marvel”

“You mean Maria Rambeau”

“Maria is Captain Marvel?” you say, finally piecing together what’s happening. When your eyes lock with Natasha’s, you speak at the same time.

“You’re from another world”

“I’m from another world”

Even if she doesn’t let go, her grip on you losens enough for you to breathe. She’s about to ask something else when a little girl walks up and pulls your hand, getting your attention.

“Mama, what are you and Mommy doing?”

—

“Walk me through what happened”

“Nothing happened! I was doing paperwork in my room and then I was here” you say for the tenth time.

“How about before?” Natasha asks, turning right. Her idea was to drive you straight to Wong, as a multiverse travel is more of his specialty.

“I ran into you. I mean, not you. My Natasha. Wait, not my. She’s not mine” you mumble, massaging your temples. “Please tell me there’s ibuprofen in this world”

“Relax” she reaches forward, placing a hand on your thigh and you swear you’ll combust. “I get the idea. Now tell me what happened”

“We just ran into the hallway. Made some small talk. And then I went to my room”

“Just small talk?” Natasha smirks. “Not some kisses? A quickie against the wall? An earth shattering, universe transcending orgasm?”

You try to open the door and jump out of the moving car but it’s locked.

“It’s not… we’re not a thing. Just friends” you say, flustered.

“Really?” Natasha finally turns to you, as she parks outside of the not so secret lair at Bleecker street.

“Wait. It was America Chavez” you remember, facepalming. Of course. “Natasha was training her. Maybe she created a portal by accident”

“And now my wife is in another universe where you’re too chicken to ask me out. Can’t imagine that will go well for her”

“Hey, it’s not like that” you snap, embarrassed. Natasha turns to you, ready to speak back, as usual. Because she’s so smart and she thinks she knows everything. “Whatever. Let’s just get this shit fixed, I don’t wanna be here”

Walking past her, you stand before the big doors, that open up without knocking

“Welcome” the man says. “I take it you’re the little glitch in our universe”

“Yes, I am. Can you fix it?”

“No. But America can. She has been at Kamar-Taj for a year now. Her powers are more developed. It should be an interesting test for her”

“Ok, so what are we waiting for?”

“There have been some security concerns lately” Natasha explains, coming closer. “Wong has to notify their council to follow protocol”

“I’ll come find you tomorrow. Remember, the longer you stay here, the bigger the threat for both worlds”

“Yes, fine. See you tomorrow” you say, looking at your feet as you leave the building. Going down the steps, you can hear Natasha calling after you. “I’m walking back to the Compound. It’s the same route. I can wait for Wong there”

“We don’t live in the Compound” Natasha explains, her voice gentle. She waits until you turn back and searches your eyes. “Look, I’m sorry about what I said before. Come with me. I’ll feel better if I know you’re safe with us”

There’s a pause, and she waits patiently while you look around. But Natasha’s presence is like a magnet, and inevitably, your eyes come back to her beautiful features.

“What’s so funny?” she says when you chuckle.

“You do the same thing. Tilt your head to the side, purse your lips… it’s cute. In every universe”

“Sweet talker. Come on. Let’s go” she offers her hand and you accept it.

It takes an enormous amount of effort to remind yourself this isn’t the Natasha you know. And that you’re not the one she loves.

You’re so caught up in these thoughts you don’t notice when she pulls over.

“Ice cream always cheers you up” she explains, getting out of the car.

“Yeah, I guess we’re not that different”

She smiles, holding the door open for you. Well, at least the flavors are the same in this universe.

“I’ll have the peanut butter with chocolate chips”

“You’re allergic” Natasha says.

“I’m not”

“You’re not?” she repeats, while the man behind the counter looks at both of you, confused.

“Nope”

Once that’s settled, you get your ice cream cones and leave the store.

“Why are you staring?” you say, mouth full of ice cream.

“I’m just waiting for the hives and the runny nose”

“I’m not allergic” you insist, showing your arms, skin completely normal.

“Fine” she concedes, shrugging her shoulders. You keep eating in silence, until she turns back. “Wanna tell me why you got so upset?”

“Because. I did ask you… her out. She said no. I wasn’t a chicken; I gave her flowers and put myself out there. But I’m obviously the problem, because in this universe, everything works out to the point of you two getting married and having a daughter”

You take a seat in a nearby bench, feeling defeated. What a cruel thing, to see the life you could have had.

“Maybe she’s not ready. I was terrified when we started dating. Thought I’d screw it up because I knew nothing of love”

That’s what Wanda probably meant earlier. It’s a possibility that crossed your mind as well, but whatever the reason, Natasha had declined the date (looking very apologetic, you might add) and you were going to respect that choice.

“Or maybe she just doesn’t want me. And that’s ok. Because no matter what happens, I love my Natasha. And I’ll always want her to be happy”

Silence settles after you say that, but Natasha looks back at you, smiling.

“You’re very noble. It’s nice to see some things are the same across worlds”

“It’s nice to know there’s a version of me that makes a version of her happy”

Natasha smiles and nods.

“Let’s get home. Anya is waiting for us”

—

“Home sweet home” Natasha says, opening the door for you. It’s a beautiful townhouse, with lots of space in the backyard. All the walls are covered in pictures, and you can’t help but stare at all the memories that belong to a different version of you.

They seem like a happy family.

“Mommy” Anya says, and it takes a second to remember that she’s talking to you.

“Hey, sweetheart” you don’t hesitate to carry her as she comes running towards you. Natasha is keeping a watchful eye on you. “What is that?”

“That’s my Miffy, silly” she says and you bounce her in your arms, while she shows you her plushie.

Yelena joins you and you can’t help but stare. Her hair is black, short and she has bangs. There are also a couple of piercings in her nose and eyebrows.

“Did you cut your hair? Looks nice” she comments, picking up her stuff and getting ready to go. You simply nod and smile. “Gotta go, see you tomorrow for dinner with Kate, ok?”

Natasha’s sisters kisses everyone goodbye, including you and then bolts out the door.

“Baby, did you bath yet?” Natasha says, approaching Anya. The girl hides her face in the crook of your neck.

“I don’t wanna”

“You’re stinky” Natasha accuses, tickling the girl; Anya gives up and goes from your arms to the redhead’s. “Come on, and then I’ll start dinner”

“I can take care of that” you offer and Natasha’s eyes widen. Anya uses Natasha’s hair as a curtain, and thinks you can’t hear what she says.

“I don’t want Mommy to cook”

“What? Why?”

“You can’t cook” Natasha says. Well, that’s just bullshit. In your world, Natasha’s always the first in line to get a good serving of whatever it is you do.

“Go, I got this” you insist when Natasha puts Anya down. The redhead looks back several times, unsure. My God, how bad could the other you be in this world to get this reaction?

Luckily, once they are done with the bath, Anya comes back, pulling her mother and commenting that the smell is incredible.

“Mommy didn’t burn the kitchen!”

“Has that actually happened?” you mumble to Natasha and she nods. “Yikes”

The redhead laughs, and nudges your shoulder with hers.

“This is really good” she admits after trying your chicken pasta bake.

“Thinking about keeping me?”

“Maybe” she jokes. “Or bring you over when I don’t feel like cooking”

Of course, Anya doesn’t understand what you’re talking about. She tells you about her day with aunt Yelena and all you have to do is listen and nod.

“I’ll do the dishes” you offer after you finish.

“Come say goodnight to her”

“Will do”

While you clean, you try not to think about what life will be like tomorrow, when you go back to a world where things are different.

“She fell asleep in the middle of a Clifford story” Natasha comes back after a few minutes. “It’s probably because she ate so much”

“I’ll leave the recipe for you” you promise. “Mind if I crash in the couch?”

“Right” the redhead smiles, and you can tell she’s nervous by the way she fidgets with her hands. You reach forward, taking them in yours.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t really sleep without… her”

“I can stay on the bedroom floor”

“I couldn’t possibly ask you to”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering” you assure her.

By the time you’re done with cleaning the kitchen, there’s an inflatable mattress, pillows and a blanket.

“Let me know if you’re comfortable” Natasha asks, turning off the bedroom lights.

“Or what? You’ll let me sleep cuddled up? It wouldn’t be good for the space and time continuum that I kick my own butt”

“I actually think she’d find it funny” Natasha says, and you let her voice lull you in the dark. “She’s probably teasing your Natasha endlessly, trying to get her to admit some sort of feelings for you”

“She has a death wish” you groan, admittedly forgetting that the Natasha you know is having a less than pleasant time right now.

“What is she like?” Natasha says after a few moments of silence.

“She’s the smartest person in any room. Hates cooking and doing dishes. Always looking out for others, always taking on the most missions. She’s really funny too. Sometimes, Bucky will ask anyone for movie recs and Natasha will give a completely made up title. So, Barnes will go crazy looking around for it”

“Oh, I’m so doing that next time” you both laugh.

“Great ass too” you say after a beat and a pillow is thrown across the room and falls right in your face. “Hey!”

“Go to sleep”

—

Next morning, you figure it’s only fair to cook some breakfast before Wong calls you over.

Which, he does, sooner than expected.

Anya is barely finished with breakfast, when Natasha comes down the stairs and looks at you.

“It’s time”

Feeling nervous, and a bit sad, you nod. Wanda shows up a few minutes later. To your shock, in this world, she’s pregnant.

“Thank you for taking care of her, it really won’t take long” Natasha says as soon as she steps inside.

The brunette eyes you curiously, and you can tell by her magic that she knows this isn’t your world.

“You know I’m always happy to”

At the door, Natasha picks up Anya and kisses her everywhere she can. The girl giggles once her mother places her down.

“Hey, bug” you kneel on the floor. “Be good. Your moms will be back soon, ok?”

“Ok, mommy. See you soon”

“Bye, Anya” you say, letting her hug you. Once you’re out the door, Natasha reaches for your hand, and squeezes lightly.

The ride to Bleeker street is silent. Wong seems pleased when he sees you.

“Follow me, ladies” he asks, opening up a portal to Kamar Taj. You’d only been there once; the size of the place always makes you feel like you’re in another planet.

A much older version of America greets you -she’s probably in her twenties- and takes your hand for a second, closing her eyes.

“Ready to go home?” she asks.

“Wait!” Natasha calls behind you and you turn, eyes wide. To your surprise, the woman hugs you, and you wrap her in your arms as well. When she pulls away, she places a small kiss on your cheek. “Anyone would be lucky to have you. She’s an idiot if she can’t see that”

“Thanks, Nat. Not about the idiot part. Be kind to every version of yourself, yes?”

“Fine” she rolls her eyes, squeezing your hand one last time.

You’re about to step into the portal when you turn to America.

“This won’t send me into the middle of a busy road or like, free falling to my death, right?”

“Most likely not” she promises.

You don’t like the sound of that.

“Ok, but on a scale of one to ten…”

“For Agamoto’s sake” Wong sighs behind you, pushing you without warning.

The room is completely upside down and then you land in the middle of the meeting table, the Avengers around you screaming.

“Son of a bitch” Steve says as you roll to the floor, out of air.

“Language” you manage to say. Everyone’s rushing to you. Sam is the first one and he helps you up. They are all talking at the same time, Wanda inspecting the cut on your forehead from falling on the table.

Suddenly, Natasha nudges them aside, wrapping you in her arms.

“Hey, it’s ok. It’s me” you say against her temple.

“We’ll leave you alone. Go to the medbay, though”

“Yes, Cap”

You’re in no hurry, Natasha safely in your arms.

—

“So, what happened while I was gone?” you casually ask as Natasha cleans the cut.

“I almost killed you… her. Twice”

“Sounds like you had fun”

“Not really. She’s a smartass. Can’t cook a damn thing, so I made her a pb&j sandwich”

“Oh, yeah. She’s allergic” you grimace. “Wait, you said you almost killed her twice. If one was with peanut butter…”

“The first thing she did when she came to this world was slap my ass”

“She does have a death wish” you joke, but Natasha doesn’t answer, turning around to put the first aid kit away.

“Is it true?” Natasha asks. You look at her, confused. “Are we married? With a daughter?”

“Oh. Yes, it’s true. They seem to be happy. It was nice”

“Was she better than me?”

“Natasha” you say, forcing her to face you. “I have no doubt in my mind that you’re awesome in every universe. But this version of you is the one I know and love. With your love of spy films, the scar in your belly, and your half smirk when you beat everyone at Uno”

“I am really good at Uno” she agrees and you both laugh.

“Damn right you are”

“I missed you. Too much, to the point where I realise I can’t keep pretending I don’t want this. I’m just scared” she says, holding on to your hands. “Will you help me? Be brave for us”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, love” you promise, kissing her hand softly. “In this, or any other universe”

[natashasilverfox]

I love how you write soft Nat! This was so good!

Sure Thing

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When you wake up snuggling with Nat, you two decide to take your relationship to the next level

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral (N and Nat receiving), fingering (R receiving), soft but hot first time

Note: As always, Natasha was on my mind. Enjoy this one!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

Natasha wakes up to the feeling of your warm body on top of hers. At some point in the night, you snuck into her room. You’ve been taking things slow and keeping your new relationship secret.

Still, you have come into Nat’s room late at night so that you can snuggle with your new favorite person several times. She loves waking up to your sleepy self.

Nat reaches for her phone to see the time. It’s still early, but soon she will have to get up to run training. She decides to try and slip out from under you. She is unsuccessful as your arm wraps tighter around her waist.

“Detka, I need to get up,” Natasha whispers.

Your response is to bury your face in her neck. She is so warm. Natasha chuckles and you relish in the best sound on earth.

“You can sleep, but I have to get ready for training. Rogers is expecting me to run it today,” Natasha tries again.

“He’ll be fine,” you mumble, your voice muffled by your proximity to her.

“Y/n,” Natasha says. She manages to pry your head from her neck. Her rough, yet tender hands hold your face. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” you reply. “Sorry I snuck in here again. I just wanted to snuggle.”

“I know,” Nat replies. She leans forward and kisses your forehead softly. “I like that you do that.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, I like sleeping with you,” she says. “Somehow, you always end up on top of me, though. Do you do that on purpose, sweet girl?”

You try to stop heat from spreading across your face and your entire body at the term of endearment she used.

“I- um- no, I think I just like sleeping close to you,” you get the response out.

“Are you sure you don’t just like feeling my entire body against yours?” Natasha asks.

Your eyes go wide at her words. It’s the furthest either of you have taken your flirting. Your intentions were pure, but the look in Nat’s eye makes your thoughts go to not so innocent places. You imagine her falling apart underneath your touch.

“Y/n,” Nat interrupts your thoughts.

“Hm?”

“I have 30 minutes,” she says. “If you want to…”

“Yes,” you blurt out. “I mean, yes, if you want to, then I want to.”

Natasha smirks at you before she pulls you in for a proper kiss. It doesn’t feel like just any kiss. She puts something more into it. Her soft lips move against yours in a perfect rhythm. One of her hands drifts down your back to land on your backside.

You moan into the kiss as her hand grips you tightly. Your hands find themselves roaming over Nat’s body. She deepens the kiss when your hand brushes over her breast. Only a thin black tank top separates her body from your skin.

“Take it off,” Nat says, referring to her tank top.

You rise up from her and straddle her waist. Your hands find the end of the tank and pull the material over her head. That leaves her chest completely bare and there for you to see. You had seen her abs before when working out, but the entirety of her body was a mystery to you.

“You’re so beautiful,” you tell her, breathless from her beauty. Your hands brush over her sides and the skin below her breasts.

Natasha’s cheeks blush a deep red at the intensity of how you’re looking at her. Not like you only want her for her body, but that you want her entirely. Body and heart and soul.

“I need you,” Natasha says. “I want you.”

Her words do nothing but increase the wetness you feel pooling between your legs. You kiss Natasha as your hands massage her breasts. She guides your mouth down to her nipples. You try to memorize the sounds she makes as you swirl your tongue around her nipples.

“Fuck,” Nat whimpers. “That feels so good.”

You glance up at her face to see her eyes closed and her head thrown back in pleasure. You’re doing something right. Your hand wanders down her stomach to her pajama shorts. Slipping your warm hand underneath the waistband, you find her lacy panties leave very little to your imagination.

“I want to see you, baby,” Natasha says.

Natasha takes your shirt hem in her hands and lifts it over your head. She practically growls at the sight of you. You kiss down her stomach and stop at her hips. She lifts her hips to assist you in taking off her shorts.

You throw those to the side haphazardly. You press soft kisses to her muscular thighs.

“I’ve always wanted to be between these,” you say, continuing to worship her thighs.

“Please,” Natasha says. “Make me feel good, detka.”

You comply. Taking the waistband of her panties in your deft fingers, you finally see Natasha’s aching core. She is dripping for you. Nothing could’ve prepared you for how good she feels, for how good she tastes.

“God, you’re so perfect,” you say as you lick through her wet folds.

Natasha quivers underneath your touch. She puts a hand on your head to pull you impossibly closer to her. She can’t comprehend how this is your first time together, but it all feels so natural. It feels like you’ve got her pleasure memorized.

You continue to lick her pussy and use your fingers to work in tandem, bringing her dangerously close to the edge quickly. When you take her clit between your lips, she doesn’t try to hold back anymore.

Natasha lets out the most beautiful moans as she comes hard against you. Her entire body reacts to the pleasure you’re bringing her.

“Oh god,” Natasha whimpers once she has somewhat come down.

“Are you okay?” You ask her, moving to lay next to her.

“I’m really good,” Nat replies. She smiles at you. You take a mental picture of how beautiful she looks in this moment.

You can’t help but kiss her. She positions herself to be on top of you this time. Nat takes your breasts in her hands. She is rougher than you were, but it feels so good.

“Natasha,” you whimper when her fingers work over your nipples.

“Relax, detka. I’ll take care of you,” Natasha says. Her voice has never been more attractive.

She pulls your pants and underwear off of you as she kisses down your body. She savors every inch of you. The anticipation is over when she rubs your pussy with her hand.

“Fuck,” you mumble.

“You’re so wet for me, baby. Such a good girl,” Nat says.

She moves her fingers through your folds and collects the wetness before she dips her fingers into you further.

“So wet and tight, fuck,” Natasha says. Her voice vibrates against your core.

You let yourself indulge in the feeling of her touch. And that touch expertly makes you feel so good. You move your hips to meet the thrusts of her fingers.

“Nat, I’m going to come,” you say.

“Come for me, y/n. Show me how good you feel, sweet girl.”

You completely fall apart under her touch and at her words. You’ve never felt so good in your life. Natasha works you through your high until you’re too sensitive for her to continue.

She lies next to you and kisses your head when you rest your head on her shoulder. You kiss her bare collar bone in response.

“That was amazing,” you state the obvious.

“It was,” Nat agrees. “I’m glad we waited for the perfect moment.”

“Me too, babe. What a way to wake up,” you say, a dreamy sigh follows.

“Hey, y/n?”

“Yeah, Nat?”

“I’m falling in love with you,” Natasha admits.

You turn to see her face. Her eyes are glassy.

“I’m falling in love with you too, Natasha Romanoff,” you say.

Nat kisses you deeply and you both crave more. She hears her phone ring but ignores it, opting to send Steve a text that she’s not feeling well and won’t be at training.

You never imagined you would ever feel this sure of anything. But Natasha Romanoff is a sure thing. You can’t wait to love her forever.

[natashasilverfox]

This cuts so deep and encapsulates Natasha so well! Very well written!

you have beautiful bones.

summary | natasha meets love.

word count | 1.3k

warning | toxic relationship?

inspired by georgia by phoebe bridgers ♡ ༘*.ﾟ

Keep reading

[natashasilverfox]

This is so heartbreaking the way Nat deals with her emotions because of Alexei. The way you wrote it is so real and helps us understand Natasha and why she’s so emotionally stinted. As well as Y/n and Natasha’s dynamic as a couple which shows how much Natasha was able to slowly evolve a bit emotionally in “Damage control “or where I mostly remember it in the “Mini burden au”.

Damage Control: In the night

Summary: You’re not estranged when it comes to your girlfriend breaking in and entering your room unannounced but the reason behind it is what constantly eats away at you but tonight you no longer keep quiet about it. (Basically an injured Natasha using your room as a safe house.)

Pairings:Mob!Natasha x reader

Warnings: brief mention of abuse, hurt-comfort, small mention of blood, fluff? Brief smut.

Series Main masterlist

You lay there without fear or concern seeing as you’re already aware of who that could be entering your window. Small noises are heard, and the bed barely shifts after a few moments you will yourself to open your eyes with intentions to turn fully towards the cold body in your bed. Strong arms stop you in your tracks holding you in place. “Go back to sleep.”

The sound of her voice is so much richer within the nighttime it almost distracts you from what you know to be the truth. You needed to look at her, you needed to see her face before you even gave yourself the opportunity to even think about sleep anymore. Of course, Natasha isn’t going to budge, and she knows you aren’t either, that’s exactly why her grip around you grows stronger as you continue to fight against her. You huff with annoyance before finally saying something to her.

“Let me see you.” It’s silent for a moment, a moment too long in your opinion that lets you know what type of late-night visit this is. “It’s fine, I’m fine, now just go back to sleep. I didn't mean to wake you up.” She dismisses any concern that you have as always. “What was the reason this time?” You don’t fight against her anymore, you simply just lay there as she’s pressed against your back. Maybe she’d talk about it in detail this time.

“Same as always.” Her response shouldn’t be a response she’s accustomed to but that was the reality of her life and burden of being placed in a situation where she’s responsible for everything and nothing other than perfection is accepted and even then, sometimes it wasn’t enough to save her from a fist and bruises littered across her body. You managed to turn around while her guard was down to finally assess the damage. You stare at her shadowy figure holding back your emotions. If you got too sentimental it would become too much for Natasha and in an instant, she’d be gone, you know because it’s happened before. She sports a black eye, a bruised lip and a few bruises on her shoulders. Her tank top still has dried blood on it. You don’t know if all of it is hers or not and you’re not going to ask. You quickly shift your thoughts on anything else sensing her fight or flight reaction beginning to start. You look away from her quickly as you sit up in bed you get up and head start for your dresser drawer. As you fumble through it, Natasha watches you the entire time and doesn’t say anything else. You turn to her as you throw a change of clothes at her. You aren’t doing a good job of hiding your frustration but then again you don’t care about hiding it. You’re sick of it, you're sick of her being treated this way and you’re sick of seeing her bloody and bruised by the hand that’s shot to protect her. Natasha glares at the spread out clothes on the bed and snaps her eyes at you. “I didn’t come here for pity, I don’t need a change of clothes. The clothes I have on are just fine.” 

“Those clothes are not fine, YOU are not fine Nat! You don’t need a reminder of what happened, your face is doing that all on its own.” You harshly whisper into the night. Your breathing is uneven, your head is starting to pound. It's four in the morning. You had very little energy to deal with this than you normally would have. Natasha wants you to forget about it, she wants you to not worry about her, she is enduring. She’s taking whatever comes her way to finish to the end. In the end when she’s the one running things in the family business. When she’s the one people are afraid of. When she has the power to make or end anyone she chooses. “I said, I don’t need pity.” She grabs the clothes and tosses them to the other side of the room with no guilt or remorse on her face. You want to kick her out, you want to yell at her for being stupid and stubborn. But you know, you know she wants to push you just to take the easy way out. She wants to find any little thing for her to run away from you and for the first time you’re starting not to care about her running away from you and her feelings.

“Then why did you come here?” She doesn’t have an answer for that she never has an answer for it at least not out loud, being in a relationship and dealing with expressing her emotions was still new to her. “If you didn’t come here for pity or to be cared for then leave out the same way you came because I’m not just going to keep ignoring this Nat, the way he treats you is not right. I’m sorry, I can’t be a shitty girlfriend and ignore the abuse that he causes you so if that’s what you want and if that’s what you’re looking for you’re wasting your time with me, I’ll never be okay with anyone hurting you.” “I’ll never be okay with you putting yourself through torture because you think you deserve it. You don’t deserve it Natalia.” You get back into your bed snatching your blanket on top of you and you make sure to turn over with your back facing Natasha. You can’t even see her facial expression right now, she’s in pure shock and an unfamiliar feeling that won’t go away is at the pit of her stomach. Her skin finally feels warm after walking in the cold for an hour to get to you. You once again feel the bed shift ready for your ears to hear the shut of your window but it never comes. There is nothing but silence.You're scared to turn around and be disappointed by her leaving instead of accepting the love and care that you constantly try giving her. The love and care she always rejects. Those deep thoughts are removed when strong arms wrap themselves around you again. this time pulling you closer. Her breath hits the back of your neck sending a chill down your spine. Her hands slightly tremble before getting more firm against your body. You don’t know if it's because of her bruised knuckles or if she’s actually nervous. “Sorry.” It’s all she says, it's all she can say at the moment but you’ll accept it seeing as how hard it is to even get her to apologize in the first place for anything. 

“Will you let me get the first aid kit?” Natasha sighs, she still wasn’t fond of being catered to and being seen as weak. She silently nods her head against yours. You silently get up from the bed and tell Natasha to put the clean clothes on. While also being careful about making as little noises as possible, you honestly don’t know if your father is home or not as of late things have been very busy for him and the family. You return from the bathroom with the kit handing her the box to do it herself. You don’t want to be overly pushy when it comes to stuff like this, plus she’s quicker to get it done than you are. She finally undresses and you honestly weren’t expecting to see more bruises with each piece of clothing hitting the floor. She’s waiting for you to say something about them, ready for an excuse to lash out and push you away again. After seeing the extra wound you look away giving her some sense of privacy instead of making her feel like a displayed punching bag. You don't forget to subtly sit an icepack near her the way her eye is swelled up. It would most likely be shut closed by the morning time if not iced at the bare minimum. You ignore the way she huffs out a force of air through her nose, she is irritated but she still hasn’t snapped at you for it, not yet. You make your way back to the bed facing away from her. When she’s done treating her wounds and putting on the new night clothes you gave her she enters the bed again. There is a brief moment of silence before her stomach growls loudly, you feel her become stiff as if that would make her hunger disappear. “Are you hungry?” 

“No” she replies immediately, it fascinates you how she’s quickly able to lie through her teeth. You raise an accusing eyebrow just as her hunger makes itself known once more, even louder than the first time. “Liar” Natasha sighs in defeat and finally answers truthfully. “Fine, I didn’t eat dinner. I was too busy internally bleeding.” She attempts to make a lighthearted joke that you don’t find funny at all. You poke her in her ribs. Natasha hisses in pain, the pain was so bad that she was nearly yelling out loud. Thankfully you’re quick by covering her mouth with your hands. “Shh, shut up!” You shush her cries and grunts of pain. When she’s calmed down a bit you finally remove your hands from her mouth. “What the fuck was that for?” She is still trying to steady her breathing and manage her pain. “I didn’t find that joke very funny, asshole.” You unwrap yourself from her embrace, without a word you stop in front of your bedroom door. “Promise me you won’t be gone when I come back?” You give a look of seriousness because she’s done it plenty of times leaving you without a word for a job, just because or simply because of her being overstimulated by emotions. “Fuck off.” She’s still upset about you poking at her wounds. You know her response is not in a malicious way so you ignore it. “Natasha, I’m serious.” She gives you her signature smirk remembering the last few times she’s done that to you, as she crosses an X over her heart. “And hope to die.” You nod once in agreement, anytime Natasha used that it meant she was serious about keeping her word. It’s a weird arrangement but it works in a twisted, melancholy way. You leave the room quickly and quietly, not taking long to prepare a snack. You return with her still in the same spot you left her in. You hand her a plate with a sandwich and a glass of milk to wash it down with. “I made your favorite, peanut butter and banana.” She can never just take things as they are so you weren’t surprised when she had a sarcastic response shooting from her mouth.“You gonna tuck me in and read me a story too?” 

“I’m close to throwing you out my window now, do you want the food or not because I can give it to the other strays that would actually appreciate it.” 

“Did you basically just call me a stray cat?” Your irritation grows more intense why? Why does she insist on being so difficult, especially at a time like this? “Yes, yes I did. Do you want it or not? I'm tired Nat.” You hold the plate and the cold glass out for her to reach. It takes a moment but after a brief pause she takes the food from you and nods her head. You know she’s thankful for it. You won’t be difficult with her tonight. After handing her the food you return to bed with the intention of going back to sleep on the verge you feel her hands wrapped around you. Her face pressed against yours and the smell of peanut butter invaded your nose. “Thank you.” Those two words weren’t just meant for the sandwich. Those two words were universal for Natasha; that's just how her brain worked. It was a thank you for everything not just tonight but other nights that have passed when she needed shelter like this. She ends her thanks with a kiss to your lips. “You’re welcome.” 

“Tash?”

“Hm?” 

“What if you left some of your clothes here for when this happens?” You don’t want to enable this situation but it’s evidently clear that this isn’t going to change anytime soon. Her father’s temper won’t change. His views on her life choices won’t change. Natasha’s mindset on leaving this life all together and running away with you won’t ever change. After a moment of awkward silence Natasha finally responds. “What am I a pet?” 

“No, I just thought it would be more convenient…actually forget I said anything.” You turn away from her again. You don’t want her to see how overly mushy and clingy you’re being right now. 

“Fine, I guess a few clothes won’t hurt.” Her voice comes out low and gentle. With that unexpected response you face her again ignoring the strained grunt that comes out of her mouth from the bed shifting. You place a small kiss to her nose and snuggle up to her chest. You massage her scalp gently knowing it helps her fall asleep faster. There’s still just one more thing in your mind and you have to ask her while she’s all buttered up. You were taking the crown for ultimate opportunist tonight.

“One more thing.” She groaned, she was actually tired now and her social meter was at its lowest point right now. “What now? And make it quick, I’m tired.” You want to slap her arm but remember the uncertainty of your father being home yet. Her breath fans over your cheek and her heartbeat finds a comfortable rhythm. Now’s your chance. “Promise me that you’ll be here in the morning when I wake up.” You hate the vulnerability in your voice sometimes you hate how much you display affection more than Natasha does. You shouldn’t be anxious to ask her for something so minuscule, but she doesn’t function like others would in a normal relationship. This was not a normal relationship no matter how bad you want it to be. “Promise.” She says it almost too fast for you. It was untrustworthy; she's known for ghosting you. “Not scared about daddy catching us together anymore?” It’s not a malicious question but the teasing is evident in her voice. She’s playing it cool right now but she was also in the same position. At times she’s being overly aware and cautious about how much time she spends away from the meeting in your fathers home office, how much she’s constantly timing herself knowing Alexei is doing the same waiting to catch her doing something so insignificant just to reprimand her. There were even times your father almost caught you two in uncompromising situations, when Natasha isn’t supposed to even be near you at all. Sometimes she's so cautious that she would ignore you completely while she was downstairs. She’s only been able to sneak away a few times to have a quick moment with you and even then that wasn’t enough for you. (It wasn’t enough for her either but you don’t know that yet.) 

“Truthfully, l wouldn’t care if he found out. I just want you safe.” Once again Natasha curses in her mind another mushy moment that she can’t seem to deny tonight. She raises her hand over your chest. The action isn’t what you were expecting at first but then she crosses an X over your heart and whispers. “I promise.” She kisses you hard, taking your breath away, she clenches to you with need and purpose. You release a soft moan savoring in the warm embrace as long as she’s allowing you to. “Now please no more talking.” You scoff at her demanding request. “Hey, it’s my room.” She hums softly and shifts to place her face deeper into you, if she could jump into your skin right now she would but she’ll never tell you that. Natasha always needs the last word, so she mumbles into your neck. “Not while I’m in your bed, it’s not.” You mumble a sleepy ‘Whatever’ and let the rest of the early morning take over you. You needed rest but most importantly Natasha needed it more than anything right now. It’s honestly taking everything in you not to throw on your clothes and drag her to the emergency room but then you know she’ll ghost you for doing it. 

You know she’ll leave you wondering about her wellbeing as retaliation. She’s done it before , going radio silent without a care in the world knowing how much it affects you. So you shake those invading thoughts and force yourself into a deep sleep. The morning comes and your body feels light, too light. You’re scared to open your eyes right now. You don’t want to be on the receiving end of disappointment. Being lied to even when you have the best intentions of keeping her safe. It sucks. It more than sucks, it’s honestly heartbreaking but you swallow the hurt and open your eyes to an empty bed. She’ll never change. You check your phone for time and it’s almost noon. You’re surprised your father hasn’t checked in on you yet but then again you didn’t even know if he was home. You toss your phone on the bed quickly turning over to scream your frustrations into your silk pillowcase. This isn’t nearly enough to keep your emotions in control but you get up from the bed to start your morning routine. Whatever you had planned to do with Natasha is not happening anymore.You'll find something expensive to buy with your credit card to cope with it. After a long hot shower you return to your room and the moments from early morning flash into your mind that you can’t keep it together anymore. You won’t be silent about this. You won’t endure pain just because she does. You stomp towards your bed with determination, you grab your phone angrily tapping away at the screen. Her phone goes straight to voicemail. Did she block your number? You never leave voicemails as it’s too dangerous in Natasha’s words but you’re angry not thinking clearly. “You think this is funny? You think you can walk all over me and my feelings? You promised, fuck that you crossed your heart! I swear I don’t know what you want from me.” You pace back and forth around your room. “I don’t know what I can do to show you how much I care about you and how much good you deserve in this world. Until you can give me an answer I don’t want to see your face, you lying piece of shit!” Just as you yell those words your window opens up and the first thing you see in the reflection of your vanity mirror is a black leather boot. You swiftly turn around as Natasha stands there. 

“Who’s a lying piece of shit?” You don’t answer her as you end the voicemail and toss your phone on the bed. Your silence is becoming awkward for her. “What? Why are you looking at me like that? And why do you look like you’re about to breathe fire out of your mouth?” 

“You left.” 

“What?” 

“You left, and you promised that you would stay.” Natasha walks back to the window and ducks down, her body half way through the opening before she grabs something and closes it completely. She brings a bag to your eye view. “I went to get you breakfast.” 

“What? You don’t do that, that’s not something you do.” 

“Oh, thanks I’ll remember that next time I want to do something for my girlfriend.” Natasha tosses the bag of food down on your desk and does nothing to hide her annoyed response. “Sorry.” Natasha brushes past your apology, she doesn’t get angry about it. She doesn’t fault you for her repeated patterns. She instead changes the subject. “Is the offer still on the table?” She stands there with a clenched jaw and an unwavering stare. Her eyes never leave yours, it's becoming  too much right now.whatever is going to come out of her mouth is clearly stressing her out to even say out loud.  “What offer?”

“Ya know, the whole dresser drawer girlfriend privilege thing.” You swear you saw a ghost of a grin, it was so quick you'd miss it if you blinked. Natasha was actually loving this new found step in the relationship. Just from the sound of the title, she’d be lying if she said she isn't making her day better. She can’t keep it a secret, it’s not like she didn’t rummage through your drawers anyway she might as well have some of her own in there as well. You smile at her trying to soften up the reasoning behind the drawer being offered in the first place. You’re glad she isn’t seeing it as a pity offering and finally accepting some of the perks of being in a safe space. 

“Yes, of course it is.” You try not to sound too eager, if you failed Natasha doesn’t comment on it. She nods in agreement and heads back out the window leaving you confused until she brings her backpack in with her and once again shutting the window. You want to ask her if she went back home for those clothes. You want to yell at her if she did return knowing you wanted her safe. With one look she can tell what’s going on in your mind and she’s quick to ease it. “Yelena, packed it for me.” She gently tugs at her bruised bottom lip ignoring the pain and starts unzipping the bag and placing her clothes into a drawer. You don’t say anything, you let her do whatever she wants. You let her have confidence and pride in placing her belongings with yours. 

When she’s done you rush over to her, pulling her into a bruising kiss that knocks her back into your dresser. She releases a low grunt from the contact and allows you to take control. After a moment you pull away from her lips. She looked dazed and breathless. “I’m sorry.” You kiss her again. The first kiss catches her off guard but she immediately holds you firmly against her. “Thank you for the breakfast.” You kiss her again. “Thank you for putting your safety first this time.” You pull back as you breathlessly whisper those words against her lips. Her hands tighten against your hips. She wants you close, she needs you close. Her lips take control this time, her tongue brushes against your lips in a silent understanding. You give her access and her tongue immediately enters your mouth. It’s too much to keep up with, she's messy today, normally she’s so calm, collected, and patient but not right now. She can’t right now because she has too much to give to you. Too much appreciation to show you what her words won’t allow. Maybe she’ll get better with that in the future. You have to pull away when you hear the sound of a car door shutting, you’re not sure if it's your father or not but you won't take the chance of being caught. Natasha groans, still chasing your lips. You chuckle at the action and promise her later to continue. You give her one last kiss as you pull away. “Let’s eat this breakfast before it gets cold.” You open the bag and it’s nothing but greasy food, you won’t complain because it’s the thought that counts. 

After eating the greasy breakfast you enjoyed the nice moment of just having her company. It was a rare occasion where Natasha got to spend this much time with you. Natasha is going through her tossed away clothes from last night, pulling out her phone she taps away at the screen that you noticed is cracked now. The screen remains black and she turns to you, ignoring your watchful gaze and curious mind. She doesn’t want to talk about it. You remind yourself.

“Hey, can I use your charger, my phone is dead.” 

“Yeah sure.” And then you think about it…the voicemail you left. If Natasha’s phone was charged it would’ve ceased your mind about her being gone from your bed this morning. You quickly snatch her phone from her. “Okay?” She looks at you curiously with clenched eyebrows. “I, uh left a not so nice voicemail on your phone when I thought you left, so yeah.” The reaction you get is not what you expected from her. Instead of being upset about it she’s being very playful. “Oh, yeah? Let me hear it.” You frown at her response. You couldn’t stay in the same room with her after letting her hear what you said, because she might leave. You never when Natasha might blow up at you or just leave you in the darkness. There’s also part of you that wants to remain honest with her no matter what. In doing this you hand her the phone anxiously waiting until her phone powers up again while on the charger. Natasha can sense it and it’s the main reason why she wants to hear it. How bad could it be? What’s so horrible about this voicemail? She reflects back to how angry you looked when she came in and she’s not so sure if she even wants to hear it now. Her finger hovers over the play button, she takes a moment to truly think about what the outcome would be if the words you said were too harsh or too real for her to handle. She presses play and she hears it. She hears everything and feels the raw emotions behind your voice. It doesn’t feel good, it's not a feeling she wants to experience again. Sure you’ve had your share of arguments and temporary breakups but this time it would be different. You basically gave her an ultimatum. Show how much you mean to her or stay away from you. She doesn’t even care that you called her a lying piece of shit. If Natasha did ultimately decide to leave this morning and not come back you would be done with her. That’s what’s making her upset. She places her phone Back on the desk to continue charging. She doesn’t say anything to you after hearing the message. She takes her jacket off and tosses it on your chair, she then starts to unlace her boots tossing those as well across your room. You stand there curiously wondering what would happen next. Natasha’s mood can switch quickly through different emotions. Just like now, you aren’t sure what type of Natasha you would get.

“I wanted to do something nice for you and you call me a lying piece of shit.” 

“You were gone Nat, you didn’t even leave a note, how was I supposed to know?”

She scoffs, not appreciating your response. “You could have trusted me.” You pinch the bridge of your nose not understanding how your cute and soft moment has turned into an argument…again. “Why are you trying to pick a fight with me right now?” 

“I'm not picking a fight, you left the voicemail, not me.”Natasha folds her arms defensively. you sigh deeply, she was indeed picking a fight with you. You’re tired of the push and pull of it all when it comes down to her and this relationship. “Are you serious right now? We already moved past this!”

“No, you moved past this and we both know that you're still upset about it.” She’s right you were still upset about it but you were willing to deal with it on your own. Clearly Natasha isn’t gonna let that happen. “C’mon, I can take it.” you look at her curiously, not knowing where she was heading with this. She steps closer to you repeating herself again. “C’mon you want to let go of your anger? Take it out on me, I'm used to it.” 

“Nat, stop.” When it's clear you’re not going to yell at her, shove her or degrade her she pushes you further. She shoves your shoulder lightly the first time then again with more force that sends you stumbling into your dresser. Natasha stalks towards you slowly cornering you against the cherry wood. “You sure you don’t want to hit me? Smack me around a bit?” her jaw is clenched tight, her eyes are glossy but the tears remain concealed in her eyes. “I can’t take it, hit me.”

“Nat.” Your frustration grows, and the more you soak in what’s happening in front of you, the more you hate Alexei. You hate him for making her this way. 

“Hit me.” She stares at you baring teeth in an animalistic way. Invading your personal space as she moves closer, her lips just a mere centimeter way from yours.

“No!” You're firm in your answer not holding back your emotion behind it either, but that only riles Natasha up even more.

“Coward.” you roll your eyes at this. You couldn't believe what you were witnessing right now. Your girlfriend needed some serious and immediate therapy. “If that makes me a coward then so be it, but like I said before I’’ll never be okay with seeing you hurt. I’ll never be okay with anyone hurting you, that includes me.” Your response catches her off guard but she maintains her composure, not giving anything away. You’ve had enough, you reached the end of your breaking point. Natasha pushed too far, as much as you want to unpack what just happened just now you can't. The fact that she thought provoking you into hitting her would make things better because she’s used to it is all you need to see. You wont allow yourself to coddle her, for the first time ever. “Get out, I’m not doing this with you.” 

Her eyes scan you over, waiting to see if you were luffing. Your stone cold, unwavering and upset. It's when you attempt to move from your spot against the dresser that has Natasha making the first move. She slams her lips against yours with desperation. You are still upset , you don't want to be kissing her, you don't like that she can pull you back in after pulling a stunt like this, but you can’t ignore it. You’re never really strong enough to stay away from her for too long anyway. “I didn’t mean-” this time you’re the one to cut the conversation short. As much as you didn’t want her to trauma dump on you, you were still going to consider the fact that she did share with you in a weird twisted way.  “Shut up.” you cup her face pulling her back into the kiss. Her movements are quick, hands moving naturally against your body. You release a soft moan, as Natasha continues her trail beneath the waistband of your jeans. “Nat, your ribs.”

“It’s fine, I’ll deal with it after. You’re more important.” You don't get the chance to protest against her selflessness. “Nat what if-” her hand slams against your mouth, cutting off any excuse you were trying to give her. She wasn't interested in hearing it. Truth be told she's using this as an excuse herself to let out her own previous frustrations, it is not entirely about an angry voicemail you left. “I. don’t. fucking. care.” Each word ends with a deep thrust. your eyes widen, you clench around her fingers. She’s moving more quickly than usual. Her movements still have the same impact under these circumstances. She's focused on your body and how you’re reacting and nothing else. Everything else is white noise. Your moan is muffled, your throat is burning with restraint. “What was that?” 

“I Can’t hear you baby, speak up.” She kisses your cheek and drags her lips against your skin towards your earlobe. “Look at you, leaking down my hand.” For a quick moment she looks down at the mess you’ve made all over her fingertips. The sight

“Am I a lying piece of shit?” you quickly shake your head, denying your own words. A condescending pout makes ”Say you’re sorry.” she removes her hand from your mouth, basically snatching it away. “Im- fuck, I’m sorry.”

“You were worried about me?” it's not a soft moment, she’s teasing you. Almost as if she's making fun of you for having human emotions, something she doesn't really seem to have. It doesn't phase you, you're used to it. The question was rhetorical, she knows you were. You’re always worried about her. This was for her own ears to hear. To hear that she mattered beyond being an attack dog or used as a pawn. Natasha kisses you softly this time, a change of emotion. “Cum for me.” Natasha's pace picks up, she flexes her muscles until they burn. She doesn’t care, she just wants to please you right now, she wants to feel your want and need for her. It sends you over the edge, your walls clench with desperation against Natasha's nimble fingers, you grip her hand pausing her further movements of trying to drag you through another round. She pulls back slightly, resting her forehead against yours waiting for you to catch your breath. 

“I’m not trying to fuck this up y/n.” it was a form of an apology and once again you would accept it. You nod slowly letting her words sink in. “I know, and I know you’ll probably never talk to me about it in detail, but just know you can. You don’t have to keep it bottled up inside and you don’t have to provoke me to release your frustrations.” her only response is to kiss you. Kiss you hard. The sudden movement of her pulling away from you in pain raised alarms in your mind. 

“Natasha, what’s wrong?” She’s clenching her side groaning in pain.you knew you should've done more to stop her. The untreated wounds are clearly more than what they seem.

Natasha starts coughing relentlessly, causing immediate concern especially when you’ve noticed the blood in the palm of her hand. “Natasha, get your shoes on now I’m taking you to the hospital.” She pulls away from you and shakes her head. “No, I’m-“ You cut her off, not letting the same words come out of her mouth. You’re sick of hearing it. “I swear if you finish that sentence.” You don’t want all the progress she’s made to be for nothing but you also want her to make the right choice. “They’ll ask questions and I’m not in the mood to play family feud.” 

“What about Melina?” Natasha releases a heavy sigh and shakes her head. “No, I don’t want to see her either.” Now you’re really curious to know what happened. If Natasha doesn’t want help from her mother something major occurred at that house. You might have to badger Yelena about it later; she can never keep things away from you like her sister can. “Okay then, I know someone who can help.” You nervously bite your lip anxiously as you gather yourself for the potential response she could give you just from hearing one name. “Who?” She leans towards her left side placing all the weight of her body on her leg. She grunts slowly, still trying to contain her pain level and it fails, it fails miserably in your watchful gaze. “Val.” Natasha’s eyes snapped at you, anger was beyond describing her expression right now. She growls through her clenched jaw, baring her teeth like some type of wildlife animal on a hunt or protecting its own. You won’t like a possessive and feral Natasha was always a win for you but this comes down to life or death, especially with how stubborn she is. You’d drag her down the front steps all the way to Valkyrie’s private medical facility she’s interning at without a care in the world about the nasty and insulting things she’d throw at you. 

“No fucking way, I’d rather bleed out.” Natasha says flatly, there is no smirk, grin or playful tone to her response. She was being serious, a bit dramatic but nonetheless serious. “Don’t say shit like that asshole. You need medical attention and since you don’t want that on record this is the way we have to go…unless you want to tell me why you don't want your own mother to help.” Natasha contemplates on her choices, she really hates Valkyrie but in this instance she really didn’t want to see her mother. Natasha grumbles as she moves away to put her boots and jacket back on. You take the actions as her accepting defeat, you move around the room to put your shoes on and grab your keys. As you move to open your door Natasha places a quick and firm hand against yours. “What are you doing?” she raises an eyebrow at your actions. “I’m opening the door?” you mirror her same expression clearly not understanding what the problem was.

“You want me to walk out the front door? You would think you're the one internally bleeding right now.” 

“Are you seriously gonna go out the window again?” Now you understand, but you won’t waste this opportunity to tease her like she did to you. “Oh, look who's scared now?” Your grin is enough to pull an unamused frown on Natasha’s face. With the possibility of your father being home and the injuries, she’s facing, Natasha would only slow you down. Ultimately leading to another brawl between her and your father, she barely has enough energy to stand on her own right now. She's truly indulging the pain. Natasha didn't want to risk it. Is it stupid, dumb and carless to go out of a window and climb down the side of a balcony? Yes, but it's what she has to do.

“Shut up and grab me a snack from the kitchen on your way out.” Natasha gives you a quick peck, steps away from you and heads towards the window. Your girlfriend is an asshole but she's your asshole and, in the night, when you get to hold her again the arguments you two had today will mean nothing, as long as she's safe in your arms. you'll care for her; you'll love her in the night.

[natashasilverfox]

This was really good and a very interesting concept! I’d love a part 2 if you ever get the time and inspiration for it. 💖

Hi, can you do nat x reader? Reader can walk through walls so the avengers hired her because she can be an asset to the group. What she's not telling them is she could see the red string of fate. She sees tony is connected to pepper, scott is connected to hope and etc. But she couldn't see hers that is until she met natasha

A/N: this is such an absolutely beautiful idea and I am so honored to be able to write this, this genuinely may be one of my favorite requests I have ever received

The music provided the perfect ambience for the scene. It was loud enough to be heard and felt, but quiet enough for conversations to be had. Voices came from every direction, some laughs floated above. The party was your first since joining the Avengers team.

You let your eyes wander about the room as you sat on the couch. Red, faint, glowing strings could be seen about the room. Some connected to another person at the party; some went out the window.

Your heart warmed seeing Tony and Pepper, their strings relatively short given the closeness between the two as they shared a private conversation. A smile tugged at your lips as your gaze fell to Hope and Scott. They were a bit further apart, their string a bit longer, glowing brightly under the lights. When they shared a loving look, you couldn't help but feel hopeful about your own life.

You couldn't see your string, you couldn't see your fate. But you could see everybody else's. Well, not everyone had one. Some people just didn't have someone they were to end up with. Some people's person wasn't here anymore, as sad as it was. Steve didn't have a string, but you knew at one point he certainly had. Natasha didn't have a string either. You weren't quite sure why. Perhaps she had had someone and they were here no longer. Or maybe she just didn't have someone and never would. Perhaps she wanted that. Perhaps she didn't.

You hadn't actually met the red-head yet. When you'd joined, she'd been gone on a mission and was supposed to return this evening. Perhaps you'd finally get to meet her. You found that she was often on your mind, for a reason you still hadn't figured out. It just seemed that no matter what you did, Natasha Romanoff was there.

But your ability to see that fate of lovers wasn't even why you were on the team. In fact, the team had no idea about that little gift at all.

You'd been hired for quite a different skill-set, one that even you couldn't quite seem to figure out why it happened. While it seemed odd to say, you could walk through walls, something that was incredibly useful for mission. You and Vision shared that little gift, and once it became apparent you could fight and were easy to train, they were happy to have you on the team. It helped that you often knew just how to pressure certain adversaries, possibly because you could see who they were connected to. You could see their weakness, as much as you hated to exploit it.

"There she is!" Clint's slightly intoxicated voice rose above the rest. You quickly looked in the direction of the doors, eyes going wide. Natasha Romanoff stood in the doorway, smirking slightly at her best friend, donning a skin tight black dress. She was practically glowing.

She moved into the room, her hips swaying. She seemed to move in slow motion. Her eyes quickly swept across the room, starting at the opposite side of the room and moving towards you. The Widow stopped in her tracks as her emerald eyes met yours. Her smile faltered, brief shock and an unknown emotion flickering across her face.

You felt a sort of pull, a tug and you looked down to see a red string emerge from your chest. You watched as it lengthened and met another string. Your breath caught as you saw that string had come from her. And while she had been practically glowing before, she was actually glowing now, a soft red hue surrounding her silhouette.

"Nat!" Clint yelled. She ignored him.

You stood from the couch and she switched her direction to you. You met in the middle.

"I'm Natasha. Why haven't I met you before?" she questioned softly.

"I'm Y/N. I just joined."

She hummed and tilted her head. You could tell she couldn't quite tell what was going on.

"Why do I feel... drawn to you?" You couldn't decipher if she had asked that rhetorically.

"It's a long story," you murmured. She quirked an eyebrow.

"I've got all night."

[natashasilverfox]

dancing with you | natasha romanoff

Summary: dancing in the kitchen with natasha

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Mentions alcohol in it (think just wine)

Word Count: 620

Notes: first fic! wrote this with her in mind <3 it's what i wanna do with her. it's also short but i will build up to writing longer things. soft nat is my favourite so i will write lots of it :)

'Thanks you for dinner, detka,' Natasha came up behind you wrapping her arms around you and resting her head on your shoulder, 'It was beautiful. But not as beautiful as you,' A shiver went down your spine as she whispered into your ear.

'Anything for you Nat,' You turned your head enough to give Natasha a quick kiss on her lips. Natasha groaned, displeased the kiss was over so quickly, 'Let me finish the dishes quickly and I'll be all yours,' Natasha whined but held you even closer than before. You smiled looking down in the water seeing her reflection smile back at you.

As soon as you had finished Natasha was quick to spin you around trapping you between her and the counter. You wrapped your arms around Natasha's neck as she pulled you in for a slow and passionate kiss. Expressing her love for you. You melted in Natasha's arms. You loved your wife more than you could ever tell or show her.

You whined trying to pull Natasha back but she slipped out of your grasp. You watched with a smile as she grabbed her phone and put on music through the speakers set up within your home. You let out a small gasp as you realised what song Natasha had put on. It was the song you had your first dance to at your wedding.

You met her gaze smiling as wide as you could. The love her eyes held for you made you feel so safe. You knew she would do anything for you. You grabbed your glass of wine, sipping it while watching your lover waltz around the kitchen making her way back to you.

'May I have this dance, detka,' Natasha held out her hand, which you quickly accepted.

Natasha spun you into her, holding you close from behind. She placed soft kisses along your neck as she softly swayed you both to the music. Natasha spun you back around so you were facing her. Softly swaying around the kitchen.

'You're beautiful, malyshka,' Natasha held your gaze while the music surrounded the two of you. Placing both of you in a happy bubble where you both only exist. The words falling from Natasha's lips, the lull of the music, and the warmth from the wine. It was the perfect combination.

'You say like you haven't seen yourself,' Your voice barely above a whisper, enjoying the moment.

'Nothing and no one could ever compare to you,' Natasha's eyes showed that there was only truth behind her words. You continued to melt in Natasha's gaze as she gently danced with you around the kitchen, occasionally spinning you. She held you like you were her most prized possession. Like you're the only thing that held worth in her life.

Moments like this made you remember why you fell for Natasha. She made you feel so safe and brought you this level of comfort that no one else ever has or could. You were everything in Natasha's eyes, her soft and loving gaze never leaving your figure.

As the song neared its end, Natasha held your hips. Holding you close in fear you would slip away as fast as you came into her life. You cupped Natasha's cheek, smiling as you watched her melt in your touch, 'God I'm so in love with you Tasha,' You pressed your lips together. You wished you could stay in this moment forever. You found your soulmate, your other half, the person that made you want to be a better version of yourself. You counted your blessings every day.

'Thank you for marrying me, detka. You make me the happiest women everyday,' Natasha ran her fingers through your hair pulling you against her chest, 'I love you too,'

[natashasilverfox]

You really know how to make someone cry…💔

Sorry Doesn't Make It Right

Natasha Romanoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst. Death. Sad Nat

18+ MINORS DNI

"Just don't touch me!" Nat yelled as Y/N tried to take her hand. A sad look on their face as they pulled away. Since they had come home from getting themselves out of that Hydra base. They were distant from everyone since they never really bothered to look for them. Even their best friend Steve never looked for them.

Although they went to Dr Cho for their wounds, not really trusting Banner considering the circumstances. Nat was already away on a recon mission with her sister when she learned of Y/N's capture but she was ordered by Fury to carry on with the mission.

"You know, I never asked for any of this." They yelled at her making her flinch. "I had to get out of there myself. Hell, you don't even know how I managed to escape."

"Then tell me." She told them sternly as they just laughed and shook their head no.

"You never cared when I came home and you sure as hell don't care now." They scoffed before leaving the room and heading for their routine check up with Cho.

"Your breathing is getting worse." She noted as she returned the stethoscope back around her neck. "I also got the results back too." She gave them a saddened look.

"I'm dying aren't I?" They asked already knowing the answer.

"I'm so sorry Y/N." She said as she handed them a bottle of water. "It's an enhanced for of Tuberculosis."

"Which make sense since Hydra have been working on bio weapons." Y/N coughed a little as Cho got them a tissue.

"Is there anyone you want to tell?" She asked them as they shook their head.

"They all shown there true colours when I had to save myself." They told her with a tight lipped smile, hopping down from the table. "Thank you Helen." They gave her a sincere smile, the sincerest smile they have given to anyone since they returned.

Everyone else had went by their own days, doing their own things while Y/N made their way to the kitchen, grabbing an apple and a bottle of water before they disappeared to the confines of their bedroom. Not wanting to really be near anyone at that moment.

"Dinner is ready Y/N." Vision informed them as he phased through the wall.

"I'm not really hungry Vis, thank you." They told him as they sat gazing out of the window.

"I have seen something unusual about you since you have returned home to us." He stated as Y/N raised a brow. "You don't seem like yourself and I am somewhat concerned for you."

"I'm fine Vis. I'm alive and that's what matters right." They told him, trying to hide the sarcasm. "I uh. I just need to be alone Vis but you don't need to worry about me. No one else does."

"I think you may be wrong." He stated as he gave a somewhat awkward smile. "Natasha is somewhat concerned about you especially since she was ordered by Fury himself to remain in her mission although she wanted to find you."

"Nat would have never followed an order blindly, not when it comes to someone she cares so deeply about." They stated as Vision shook his head.

"Fury and Mr Stark knew about the contagions, and the experiments with them." Vision informed him. "Both of them seemed to think they may have used you as a test subject for one of the experiments."

"Yeah, they are certainly right about that." They chuckled as Vision looked at them curiously as they coughed. He stepped closer and rubbed their back soothingly as the coughing fit eased off. "Thanks."

"What is it that you have?" He questioned as Y/N shrugged.

"It doesn't really matter, I'm dying all the same." They told him quietly. "Besides, I just want to die here in my room alone as I would have in that damn cell."

"Do you want me to tell anyone?" He asked as they shook their head no.

"I don't want anyone to know Vis. It's just you and Dr Cho that know and I would love to keep it that way." They told him as he nodded before leaving.

"Seriously! Are all of you so self fucking centered that you haven't noticed that one of our own has suffered!" Yelena yelled as everyone sat in silence. "Not to mention, you all left them to rot with Hydra."

"We thought they were dead." Tony tried as Yelena shook her head. "We did. We never had any leads or anything so that seemed like the most logical explanation."

"You know that is utter bullshit." Yelena spat before she turned to Nat. Everyone completely disregarding Vision who had made a small plate and grabbed another bottle of water from the fridge with some paracetamol. "They're your partner Natalia, you claim to love them and yet, I don't see you comforting them. Seeing how they are, in fact you only argue and push them away!" Everyone remained in a silence filled with shame and guilt as Yelena chuckled. "I am done with this so called family." She spat before she pointed to her sister. "That's what you called this merry band of power rangers." With that she stormed off as silence filled the room.

"She's right." Steve spoke up as everyone looked to him. "Y/N was one of us and we failed them. We gave up on them." He looked around at the faces. "We ought to be ashamed to even consider ourselves heroes."

"I brought you a little food and some medication." Vision spoke as he let himself inside Y/N's room once more.

"Thanks." They spoke in a coughing fit. Clutching their chest as it tightened, feeling like they had a boa constrictor wrapped around their chest.

"I think you need to see Dr Cho once more." He urged as Y/N waved him off.

"I don't want to die in a hospital." They told him as the two never realised Yelena was listening. "I just don't want to die." They told him as he just nodded in understanding.

"I can fetch Dr Cho if you need?" He suggested as Y/N just nodded as they coughed some more. Wiping their chin with a tissue to see some blood before tossing it in the trash. Vision disappeared before Yelena made herself known.

"So you want to die alone?" She asked them as they took a rattley breath.

"No one cares Lena." They whispered, her heart broke at the sight of her best friend, frail and grey, their tired eyes bloodshot. "Even Nat doesn't care."

"I care!" She yelled as her tears fell. "You're my best friend and I care." She whispered shakily as Y/N moved to stand. Everyone had heard Yelena yell.

"I don't want to die." They whispered weakly as Yelena shook her head. "I don't want to go. I had plans." They told her as they stepped closer to her. "I wanted to marry your sister, adopt a bunch of cats with her. I wanted all of that!" Their own tears started to fall as everyone noticed. "I don't want to go." They fell to their knees as Yelena was fast enough to catch them. As their sobs became more, it became harder to breathe which caused them to hunch over as they coughed. Yelena rubbing their back as Dr Cho and Vision returned.

"Ok." She whispered as she listened to Y/N's breathing. "Help me get them on the bed." She informed them all as Vision and Yelena helped them. "I'm sorry Y/N." She gave them a sad look. "It's only going to get worse."

"Make it stop." They asked her weakly. "Please just make it stop." Everyone watched as they became a completely different person to the hard shell they once were. "I would do anything."

"I can't Y/N." Dr Cho spoke sadly. "There isn't a cure for this strain. I have tried to find a cure strong enough but I haven't."

"Just kill me." They pleaded with her. "Please just kill me." They whispered before going into a coughing fit, the worst one they have had.

"We're so sorry Y/N." Steve spoke softly as Y/N calmed down.

"Your sorry doesn't make it right Captain." They snapped as they glared at the so called family they had. "You all left me. Not one of you who weren't on a mission bothered to even find my location and now look where that got us." They coughed as Yelena moved to hold their hand. "I am dying and it's all your fault. I was on a stupid mission with Tony who's tracker didn't even work." Tony looked away which Y/N soon chuckled. "So you knew where I was but never bothered to save me like I would have saved you every damn time." They turned to Cho with pleading eyes. "Isn't there an end of life thing or something they use for terminally ill patients?"

"Yes there is." She nodded.

"Do you think we could use it?" They asked her as she nodded. It broke Nat's heart seeing how easily they were giving up the fight.

"So you're just going to die." Nat spoke for the first time. "You're not even going to fight to survive."

"I have fought to survive every damn day of my life Natasha! Everyday and I am barely hanging on as it is." They yelled before taking a weak breath. "I have no fight left in me because I am tired. I am sick and tired so please just let me go in peace." They gave her a pleading look. "Please." Natasha only nodded as she came in and sat beside them.

"Well I am staying here." She told them as she kissed their head and took their hand in hers. Everyone else soon joined, taking a seat on the floor or standing around the room. It was silent as Dr Cho had set up the drug for them.

"You will start to feel sleepy soon." She told them calmly. "It will be like just falling asleep." Y/N gave her a thankful smile as she gave them a sad smile before she left the room. Unable to watch her favourite patient die.

The only sound that you could hear was the loud rattley breaths from Y/N as their breathing soon laboured. Once they heard the deepest breath leave their lips, everyone knew that that was the moment they lost someone they all loved. They all had memories with them, most of them good besides the last memories since they returned home.

Dr Cho stood outside the room, choking on her own sobs as she heard the cries come from the room.

"No. Please wake up." Natasha cried as she shook them gently. "Please don't go. Please." Yelena and Wanda both held her close as Bruce came over to check the pulse with a heavy heart. Once he shook his head, Natasha wailed as she clutched onto Yelena for dear life. The sounds of her broken cries filling the room as everyone else soon started to break as she broke down. Yelena dragged her from the room, kicking and screaming as she tried to fight her younger sister in her devastation. Wanting to be close to Y/N, even in death.

[natashasilverfox]

This is a lovely addition to the previous story little Yelena is so adorable I love her!😍

A Perfect Mix

Natasha Romanoff x Reader + Family

Word Count: 1.8K

This follows on from the last fic I've posted.

.

Noone saw Natasha’s strengths as a mother like you did.

There was something almost clumsy about the force of her love.

When Yelena was born, Natasha had been overwhelmed with the feeling. When she first looked down at the baby in her arms, Natasha forgot how to breathe. You watched the beginning of an uncontrollable love. 

Yelena had always looked up to Natasha with a wide-eyed awe. Even when she was very little, if Natasha came into the room, Yelena’s gaze would find her, following her every movement excitedly. 

Natasha had never expected to be the favourite parent, not even for a brief moment. Yelena quickly reset her expectations. She wasn’t shy in showing her delight for her Mom. You watched her smile and coo and giggle easily just at the sight of Natasha. 

At first, Natasha had been careful, almost shy in her responses to her daughter’s affection. She held Yelena carefully, like she was the most fragile thing in the world. She couldn’t help but give Yelena her softest smiles. 

You loved seeing this side of her. You knew Natasha’s gentleness better than anyone. It was a trait that she couldn’t help with the people she loved. In the past, you’d felt her try to avoid it. A fear of rejection and vulnerability that you could forgive easily.

Yelena made Natasha brave. She loved Natasha and she expected Natasha to love her too.

Natasha never let her down.

.

The very first time Yelena had walked, she’d wandered unsteadily over to Natasha. You’d swallowed a cheer of excitement, scrambling to find your phone to record the moment.

Yelena’s face had split into a delighted grin, thrilled that her newly acquired skill was helping her get to her Mom faster. 

When she made it, Natasha scooped her into a careful hug and you watched her eyes close. 

It was only when you heard her murmur ‘Well done’ in a choked voice that you realised she was holding back tears. 

Yelena was special. Just by being herself, she made Natasha feel special too.

.

You started to become stubborn in your belief that Yelena was a perfect mix of yourself and Natasha.

.

You explained your theory to Natasha one night as you were both on the verge of sleep. You felt Natasha’s gaze clinging to you through the dark, in that hopeful way that made her seem young. You felt her fingers lazily tracing your pulse point.

‘You’re brave and kind. And so is she.’ You explained simply. 

Natasha hesitated at the compliment; her fingers paused for a moment on your skin but she didn’t vocalise any disagreement. Yelena’s emerging personality was undeniably similar to Natasha’s.

After a moment, Natasha cleared her throat and asked. 

‘What about you?’

You grinned in anticipation, your answer well prepared. 

‘Well.’ You started slowly, reaching to find Natasha’s face in the dark, your thumb brushing her lips to ascertain their exact location. ‘She’s incredibly smart, of course.’

You moved closer to Natasha in the bed. You could feel her smile of agreement beneath your thumb. 

Natasha was trying to be lowkey about her belief that Yelena was the world’s next great genius. But you’d caught her the other day, very preemptively, researching a Stark scholarship programme for high achievers.

‘And I know she’s so smart because she figured out immediately that Natasha Romanoff is the best person in the world.’

You kissed Natasha quickly before she could roll her eyes or argue your point. Instead, you felt her smile harder against your lips, clearly aware of your scheme.

.

Even though she’d had it her whole life, Yelena’s faith in her mother always seemed completely fresh. You loved that it had never wavered. 

You could tell it scared Natasha.

You knew the pressure of that faith weighed heavily on her. Yelena trusted her wholeheartedly because she loved the Mom she’d always known. At first, she couldn’t conceive of the person Natasha had been before that.

It was when Yelena turned four that she first understood what her extended family had been hinting at every time they visited. After an afternoon spent with some of Natasha’s closest friends, ‘Avenger’ was no longer a meaningless word to Yelena. Instead, it became a special term of honour used by those around her. 

The leap of understanding wasn’t hard for her. For Yelena, her Mom was already a superhero.

Now, almost relentlessly, she would crawl onto the sofa next to Natasha and ask for stories. 

Yelena had a way of sneaking up on you. Natasha fell for it every single time. Sometimes she’d find herself cornered unexpectedly and catch your eye from across the room. You’d just grin back knowingly. Yelena would twist pieces of Natasha’s long hair as she asked for yet another story from her past. Natasha’s hand would stay pressed lightly at the small of her back, making sure her enthusiastic climbing never ended badly.

Natasha’s voice always sounded gravelly when she told those stories. For a woman trained in hiding her emotions, her subtlety was often forgotten. Natasha’s eyes would flicker nervously over to you whenever she obviously abridged a more traumatic story. 

At first, she was hesitant to ever mention the alien invasion in New York, sure it would give Yelena nightmares. Eventually, she’d brought it up hesitantly, recounting it more like a fairytale than anything else. 

Yelena, of course, latched onto the idea with more enthusiasm than anything before. She built aliens and spaceships out of cereal boxes. Her favourite game was pretending to be an Avenger saving the world from an other-worldly danger. Even when she asked Natasha to play with her, Yelena always insisted on being the Black Widow. Nothing made you laugh harder than when Natasha was relegated to play the role of ‘Hulk’ in her own story.

.

It wasn’t surprising that Yelena asked for a Black Widow action figure doll for Christmas that year. Nonetheless, you felt a kind of sharp pride when you read through her list for Santa. It was more crayon than words but you immediately recognised the red black widow symbol clumsily drawn in the centre of the page.

Yelena asked you twice to put an urgent stamp on her letter, clearly sceptical of non-reindeer delivery services.

.

You didn’t tell Natasha about Yelena’s request, happy to wait for her reaction on Christmas Day. 

You were grateful for Yelena’s love of your wife’s alter-ego. You loved the way that the ‘Black Widow’ had become something more simple in your family; an easy shorthand for your wife’s bravery. 

.

Having Yelena in your lives now made Christmas twice as exciting and intense. You loved it. 

The day began with the simple perfection you cherished. 

Natasha gave you a sleepy smile over a cup of coffee, loose pieces of her tied back hair floating around her head. Her red and white pyjamas were patterned in a Christmas theme. Her fluffy reindeer socks had been a present unwrapped earlier.

Yelena screamed, half wild with holiday excitement, as she unwrapped the Black Widow box. She hugged the plastic casing and turned to you both with shiny eyes and an overwhelming smile.

You smiled back immediately, loving the feeling of sharing her joy. You listened to her excited chatter, holding out the box so you could get a better look.

You didn’t get a chance to see Natasha’s reaction, before you felt a hurried movement to the side of you.

Natasha left the room abruptly and your heart sunk with the dawning realisation that you’d misjudged the moment. You followed her covertly, leaving as soon as Yelena turned to Lila for help getting the doll out of the packaging.

You found Natasha silently shaking in the hallway, her back pressed to the wall. You recognised the emotions that had come to an unexpected head. Natasha would never call this feeling anxiety. Still, her eyes clung to yours, seeking the grounding that you knew how to give her. 

The sinking feeling in your chest crystallised. Natasha looked small, her arms wrapped around herself. 

You realised suddenly, that Natasha didn’t see herself in the stories that Yelena loved. You thought of all the details that Natasha omitted in her careful retellings. 

Black Widow didn’t make her feel brave. Only her family did. 

You moved towards her carefully, hugging her in an expression of unspoken regret and comfort. Natasha fit so familiarly in your arms. As always, you revelled in the nearness of her. Natasha’s warm embrace was home. Her head rested slightly on your shoulder and the comfortable silence between you stretched out. Her breathing steadied in the quiet seconds that followed. You felt calmer too, as if you could feel her slowing heartbeat in your own chest.

Family made you feel brave too.

.

The door from the living room was flung open less than a minute later. Yelena’s unaware delight was almost painfully endearing. 

‘Mama.’ She called out to Natasha. You barely had time to open your embrace before Yelena was confidently sneaking between the pair of you. She lifted the doll above her head so that Natasha could have a better look. 

‘I love her.’ She declared and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread over your face.

You tried to take the pressure away from Natasha as best you could, redirecting Yelena’s focus.

‘Santa must have read your list baby.’ You told her, brushing loose hair away from her eyes. Yelena gave you a secret smile, obviously remembering her earlier worries about the North Pole’s mailing system. 

Your attempt was ineffective. Like a magnet, her attention returned to Natasha.

Sometimes, Yelena didn’t seem quite as unaware as you believed. You weren’t sure what she read in Natasha’s often hesitant gaze. Her arms wrapped around Natasha’s leg confidently and you watched her squeeze tightly. 

‘Don’t worry Mama, I still love you just as much.’ Yelena assured her seriously, cheek pressed against her Mom’s side. 

Natasha met your gaze as her hand moved with instinctive protectiveness to the space between Yelena’s shoulders. There was a lightness in her eyes and you smiled knowingly. 

Yelena’s serious tone was starting to sound a lot like your own. Another part of the perfect mix. 

‘Well, I win because I love you the most.’ Natasha replied playfully, letting any last remnants of sadness evaporate. In one quick movement, that had taken years of confidence for Natasha to do casually, she lifted Yelena up above her head, swinging her exaggeratedly back and forth until she started shrieking with laughter. 

Their matching grins looked like reflections of each other. It was right then, alone together in the hallway, that you realised Natasha’s faith in Yelena was just as absolute.

When she caught her breath, cheeks flushed from excitement. Yelena turned to you eagerly.

‘I need to have a doll of you for my birthday.’ She informed you. 

‘There is no doll of me.’ You commiserated teasingly as you all headed back to the living room together. Natasha’s hand slipped around your waist, just as her other one rested on Yelena’s shoulder.

‘Oh don’t worry.’ Natasha told you, a glint of mischief behind her reassuring smile. ‘We’ll make sure to find one.’

[natashasilverfox]

This series is amazing! 🤯

Red Room Sacrifice

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: You grew up and trained with Natasha in the Red Room. Your close relationship with her is put to the test during your final exam.

Warnings: angst, violence/blood

Words: 2273

“I think I would like to be a superhero.”

Natasha peeks open one of her eyes at the sound of your voice, waking up from her attempt at some rest. She squints at the bed above hers, trying to discern whether or not you were talking to her.

Seconds later, your head appears upside down over the edge of your bed to look at her when you didn’t hear a response. “Natasha?”

She turns to look at you confusedly. “What?”

You smirked at her from your position. “Come on, Natasha. We would be the perfect team. Traveling around the world, helping people in need.” Your eyes brightened at the idea. “Ooh, like that Captain America guy.”

Natasha rolls her eyes before closing them again when she hears you talk about your usual fantasies for the two of you. “Go to sleep, Y/n. You’re going to get punished again.”

You frown at her words, but eventually, you do move back to your original position on your bed. She’s not wrong. For some reason, Madame B, the supervisor and trainer of the Red Room program, hated you. You’re positive she would have gotten rid of you a long time ago if only you didn’t match Natasha in strength and skills.

For a few minutes, silence enveloped the room as you got lost in thought.

“I think you would be a great superhero, Natasha.” 

Natasha’s eyes open again at your words. She stares at your bed, waiting for you to elaborate further, but all she hears is the soft, even sounds of your breathing, indicating that you had fallen asleep. 

She huffed in disbelief. Of course, you would fall asleep after saying something so ridiculous. You were both trained to be killers. There was nothing left in the world for either of you.

——

Your hands were restricted. That was the first thing you realized as you slowly awoke. Your body also felt sluggish, and your head was pounding, which leads to one possible conclusion. 

You’ve been drugged.

Slowly regaining your senses, you open your eyes to examine your surroundings. You were in the center of an unfamiliar room. It was mostly empty, except for some tables scattered around. The large window on one side of the room gives you an indication of what this was.

Another test.   

Annoyed, you examine yourself to find your hands and body bound tightly to a chair. Your legs were not tied though, so that was an upside to the situation. 

You test the restraints. They didn’t budge at all which means you would need to find another way to escape.

Sighing, you lean your head back to contemplate your next course of actions. Your head bumps against something.

“Ow, so you finally woke up.”

Startled, you turn your head over your shoulder to see the familiar red hair. Natasha was also in the same position as you, though her body seems to be more alert. Looking between the two of you, you see that your chairs have also been tied together back to back.

You craned your neck, trying to see her face. “How long have you been awake?”

Natasha was about to answer you when the crackle of a speaker sounded inside the room. Madame B’s voice rings out.

 “Welcome to your next test girls. Your task for today…”

A buzzer sounds as dozens of soldiers march into the room, surrounding the two of you.  

“Eliminate everyone.” The doors slammed shut at her words.

Chaos erupted immediately as the soldiers lunged towards the two of you. One soldier reached you first, knife raised in attack. 

You twist your body to dodge the incoming swing. The knife narrowly misses you and embeds itself into the back of your chair. In a fluid motion, you bring your leg up and knock him to the ground with a powerful kick.

Turning your head over your shoulder, you call out to get her attention.

“Natasha!”

Natasha kicks away an incoming soldier before glancing over her shoulder at the knife lodged on top of your chair. She quickly looks around and spots a nearby table. Still bound, she stands, pulling you up with her, before running towards the table, slamming the sides of your chairs against the edge. 

The impact knocks the knife out from your chair, and it slides across the table. Soon, more soldiers close in around the two of you. 

You look over at Natasha and find her looking back at you too. Understanding passes between the two of you as you both simultaneously kick at the soldiers, using the momentum to propel yourselves on top of the table. 

Another swift kick from you causes the two of you to slide across the table, allowing Natasha’s bound hand to reach and grab the knife. By the time you land on the ground on the other side, she has already freed herself from her restraints. 

Within seconds, you are also released. Standing up, you rub your wrists in relief. Natasha tosses you the knife which you catch reflexively. 

You twirl the blade in your hand, testing the balance, before gripping the handle close to your body in a defensive position, ready for combat. 

The two of you locked eyes once more, quickly checking on each other before jumping back into the fight. Separately, you and Natasha were already formidable opponents, but working together as a team made the both of you essentially impossible to stop. 

You and Natasha were in perfect sync, defeating soldiers left and right, barely giving them any time to react. Within minutes, all of the soldiers were defeated, lying motionless on the ground around the room. 

You stroll casually over next to Natasha, stretching your arms above your head and smirking at her.  

“I got twelve.”

Natasha huffs in disbelief at your words. She was about to respond when a movement behind you caught her attention. She quickly moves you to the side before knocking the hidden soldier away. His body crashes into a table, breaking it into pieces.

Natasha turns back to you, dusting herself off before giving you a smirk. “Thirteen.”

Tilting your head in acknowledgment, you raised your hands, admitting your loss. You give her a fond smile as you both stare at each other.

Madame B’s voice fills the room again. 

“I said to eliminate everyone.”

Your smile drops as you realize what she means. Natasha also looks shocked at her words.

This wasn’t some ordinary test. You’ve heard the whispers of girls being chosen to fight against each other to the death.

Scoffing in disbelief, you realized this was the final exam. The Widow program doesn’t tolerate weakness, so either one of you kills the other, or both of you will die.

Looking around, you find another knife on the ground. Picking it up, you toss it at Natasha. She catches it easily before giving you an incredulous look.

“What are you doing?”

Determined, you twirl and toss the knife in your hand before gripping it into a defensive position again, facing her. 

“She said to fight.” You slowly circle around her, looking for an opening. 

Natasha shakes her head resolutely. “I’m not going to kill–.” 

You swing at her with your knife, interrupting her as she dodges your attack. You don’t let up, pursuing after her with constant strikes.

Not surprisingly, Natasha dodges or parries each of your attacks, constantly graceful and quick on her feet, but she doesn't attack you back. 

Irritated at her actions, you force her towards a side of the room. Her back hits the wall with a thud as you press your arm against her neck. 

Natasha’s hands grip each of your wrist tightly, restricting your movements despite being pressed against the wall.

Desperately, you look into her eyes and cry out in anger.

“Fight me!”

Natasha winces at your cry, looking away from your pleading eyes. Throughout the fight, she has been conflicted on what she should do.

Her instincts and training tells her to follow orders no matter what, but every time she looks at you, her heart stops her. 

The pressure on her neck increases, as you push yourself closer. She turns back to look at you. Your eyes were frantic as you begged her, trying to make her understand.

“Fight, Natasha!” 

Gritting her teeth, Natasha reluctantly kicks you away, releasing herself. You catch your balance quickly in time to block her next incoming attacks. 

Her actions were precise and powerful, pressuring you to be on the defensive. She swings her knife towards you. 

Using your own knife, you block her attack. The blades slide against each other as you dodge to the side, redirecting her momentum.

Natasha barely stumbles from your action, instead she twists her body around to deliver a kick to your side, knocking you to the ground.

Coughing, you push yourself up, trying to catch your breath. Blood drips from your mouth, and you know you can’t last much longer. 

Standing up, you see Natasha watching you with pain and concern in her eyes. You give her a reassuring smirk, getting back into position. Your hand taunts her to come at you.

Grimacing, Natasha lunged forward again with a powerful thrust. Like before, you block her attack with your own knife.

In the next second, your eyes lock with hers, and you give her a small, sad smile. You subtly redirect her attack again. This time making it appear as if she evaded your block. 

Natasha's eyes widened in shock and realization. Time slowed as the blade pierced your stomach. The sound of metal clanging against the floor echoed the room as you dropped your own knife. 

Natasha steps away in panic. Eyes frozen, she stares at her hand that held the weapon now impaled in you. All she can focus on is the blood covering her hand. Your blood.

Holding your wound, you slowly take a couple steps forward towards her until your head slumps against her shoulder. Instinctively, Natasha supports you against her body, wrapping her arms around you. 

You raise your hand to press against her chest as your voice comes out in a whisper next to her ear. 

“Survive, Natasha.” You take a stuttered breath through the pain, already feeling your body weakening from the loss of blood. “You have a good heart. Don’t let them take that away.”

A single clap echoes from behind Natasha, followed by multiple footsteps. She feels herself pulled away from you. Without her support, your body slumps to the ground, too weak to move anymore.  

“Well done, Natasha. You will be a wonderful Widow.” Madame B praises her, eyes gleaming with pride at her best student.

Natasha doesn’t register her words. Her eyes only focus on your still body on the floor. 

Madame B. glances disdainfully at you, motionless on the ground. She snaps at two guards. “Dispose of her. She’s useless now.” 

At her command, they move to take you away. As their hands grab your arms to carry you, Natasha snaps out of her state of shock as she tries to reach for you. 

“Wait, no, don’t touch her—“ Natasha cries out in pain when she is tased by one of the guards holding her back. 

Ignoring her cries, Madame B. walks out of the room. “Come Natasha, we must prepare for your graduation ceremony.” 

The guards holding her follow right after, practically dragging Natasha as she thrashes around in their hold. She turns her head to look back at you in the room. Your body was carried by a guard towards the opposite direction. Her heart clenches when she sees your closed eyes and arm hanging limp beside you. She hangs her head in despair.

You were a fool. She will only ever be a killer. Only now, there was truly nothing left in the world for her.

——

“You are positive?”

The soldier nodded at Dreykov who was standing in front of the examination window, watching as doctors and scientists worked to save his daughter’s life. 

“Yes, sir. The attack was by Natasha Romanoff. She disappeared from our radar a week ago but then suddenly reappeared right before the explosion. It seems she has somehow broken her indoctrination and defected, working together with Shield.”

Dreykov clicked his tongue in disappointment at losing one of his best Widows. He goes to his desk and pulls up Natasha’s file. Skimming her information, an event during her training days catches his attention. 

“What’s the status of this girl?” 

His assistant looks at who he was referring to before pulling up your information from the Experiment and Research department.

“Y/n L/n. Combat, weapons, and tactical skills were almost at the same level as Romanoff. Eliminated from the Widow program by a fatal injury from Romanoff, which led to the discovery of super enhanced healing not seen in the other Widows. She was then transferred to the research team for further study on her ability.” 

The assistant shows a video of you currently locked in a cell, punching angrily at the wall. 

“Notes from the team indicate that her skills and abilities are still giving them difficulty when handling the subject. Despite multiple methods, her defiant and rebellious behavior makes it impossible for them to control her.” 

Dreykov examines your image on his screen curiously before looking over at the room with his daughter, an idea forming in his mind.

“Transfer her back to the Widow program…,” Dreykov commanded. On another screen, he pulls up Melina Vostokoff’s newly developed research on brainwashing mechanisms. 

“...And add her as the second test subject to our new form of indoctrination.”

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

Part 2

[natashasilverfox]

After she said that I would have left……

"...because it feels like it will."

| W.M ( -> N.R )

Undeserving of a Love Like Yours, Chapter 4

Chapter Warnings: Staying underwater in a bathtub for a couple seconds, relationship problems, avoidance, distancing, alcohol, getting drunk.

Summary: Everything in your world starts to fall apart.

Series Summary: When you're stuck in a complete hole of confusion and hurt with the one you thought you loved most, a certain redhead finds her way into your life.

Word Count: 5.1k

Category: Angst. Full on aaaaangst.

A/N: this was...a lot. and unlike anything I've written before, but hooooo! I love how it turned out. I was a little late, but I hope you enjoy it <3

| Started on 19/01/2024, 2:28 PM |

| Finished on 05/02/2024, 8:18 PM |

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | N.R Masterlist

<- Chapter 3 Chapter 5 ->

"When did your heart stop beating as it once used to for me?"

|——————————— ᗢ ———————————|

Light broke through the window, dawn visiting the sky with the sun. The bed was empty of either of your bodies. Dust could be seen floating around in the sunlight that came in the room.

You were up and about, already having finished showering and wearing your clothes. Wanda on the other hand, had gotten out the house even before you awoke.

Your feet takes you to the kitchen, the dim lighting adding nothing but only sleepiness to your still low energy. Even though you got your rest and showered.

You open the pantry to grab two slices of bread, to then put in the toaster after making sure the timer was set right. The watch on your wrist tells that it was 7:43 AM. You still had time.

As you waited for your bread to toast, you went to make a drink in your mug. Your thoughts drift to the brunette as you do so, not being able to help it.

Wanda had slowly started to not be present. You could say it's work, you could say she's busy or tired, but it was starting to be unavoidable to think about.

With you starting up work again, it being a weekday once more, you weren't sure if you were glad or not. It'll either be a distraction to not thinking about her at all, or more time alone to yourself to only be thinking about her.

A sigh leaves your mouth and you gently shake your head, trying to rid the endless thoughts in your head. Your hands cup the freshly made drink held within the warm mug, letting it sit on the cold marble counters.

Soon enough, your bread pops up from the toaster, and it was nearly perfect aside from the slightly lesser toasted parts. You probably need a new toaster.

Not caring much about it though, you grab a plate and place it on there, making your sandwiches easily for a morning breakfast. The minutes were going by a little quicker with every second you spent eating, and honestly, time was starting to look like its going against you today.

After you rush to finish the last few bites and put the plate in the sink along with your now empty mug, you go to the front door, phone and keys already in your pockets.

The drive to your workplace was a blur, your eyes were focused on the roads and your mind was preoccupied with the thoughts of everything and nothing as you tried to distract yourself with music.

You arrived soon enough and walk through the building, passing by co-workers, and many other people you didn't take mind to put a name to or even know.

Your work was pretty boring, sitting down at a desk with a plastic chair-- Yes, plastic, as there weren't any that were comfortable around the building except for the one in the boss's office.

The only thing that wasn't boring with it was being able to fiddle around with some spotlights and having fun with the colors. Your fingers move around the control board as you set everything up.

As time went by, you finished it up and let the lights do whatever you set them to do. Now, you had a choice to either sit and do something else, or do paperwork.

Although that sounded awful, you went to work on them instead, not wanting to be sore from sitting in the same position for the next few hours on your chair watching whatever show you downloaded on your phone while working on the lights.

The time went by, and you finished up most of it all, until lunch came by and it was time to get a break. You get up from your chair and leave the pen you were holding in your hand to lay upon the papers, going off in search for some food.

You made sure your phone was still in your pocket as you made your way out, your car still waiting for you outside. But, seeing as the place was close, you could just walk there. The sun shone down on you, the heat obvious both from your body warming up, and the bright yellow sunlight across the concrete sidewalk and other buildings.

After you went in the nearby café, you started cooling down a bit, the ac within it easily helping you out. The place was starting to get packed, but you've always had a small little corner you're able to keep for yourself every lunch break.

You go up to the front counter, ordering a few things before you went to the empty table. Your order number was a bit far, but you didn't mind it as you stared out the window. Lucky the sun didn't filter in through the glass here, seeing as it was behind the building.

Your mind then drifted off, stuck on a certain thought ever since you saw the clock strike lunch time. You bit down on your bottom lip and your hand reached in your pocket to grab your phone.

As your fingers unlock it and go through the apps to then scroll in your contacts list, your mind reeled with every possible thing that could happen. You probably shouldn't. You know you shouldn't. But it's worth a try.

Your thumb hovers over her name for a short while, but you give in and tap on the contact, giving in. It switches to calling mode, and you put your phone to your ear, anticipation making your heart beat faster.

The dialing tone keeps sounding out, and you were starting to regret it, but hope lead on with every beep. You hoped it doesn't go to voicemail. And it doesn't.

"Hello?" Her voice comes through the phone clearly, and you let go of a breath you've been holding quietly, looking out the window, so your eyes don't just focus on the plain table. You gather your thoughts, turning them into words.

"Hey. Um, you have lunchtime free, right?" You ask, your eyes moving to the orders list. Your number was going up, but you had enough time to keep talking with her.

"I do...Why?" She asks, as if skeptical of something. Had she forgotten about lunch break? You didn't let the curious thought linger and instead fiddle with the paper in your hand of your order number.

"I was just...wondering, because I do, and well, do you wanna have lunch together?" You say casually, expecting a denial with the many times she has before.

"Sure. Sure, that sounds good." She says, and you raise your eyebrows in surprise. But your heart jumps at the agreement.

"Okay. I'll maybe..." You pause for a second, looking down at the time on your watch. It showed 1:15 PM. "...see you at 1:20 PM?"

"I can be there by 1:30 PM." Her voice elongates some words, probably also checking her own watch as she said it. You smile, happy with her answer nonetheless.

"Okay. See you here." You say quietly, trying your best to keep your cool, like anyone else in the café. Although, they're probably pretty calm at the moment and not getting excited about something.

"See you." She didn't say anything else, and all you heard after was an end call tone. You pull your phone away from your ear, and right when you do, you notice the order list moving to your number.

You stood up, and went to grab it, thanking the cashier. When you sat back, you took a sip of your drink, but nothing more, thinking of waiting for Wanda.

As you waited, and waited, checking the time, your meal was starting to get cold and you were getting hungry. You took a couple bites here and there, enjoying your lunch.

Soon enough it was now getting to 2:20 PM. Your lunch break was ending soon, and you finished up the last of it, but not with someone you were hoping to spend it with. You check your phone again, in case you had somehow missed something even with the past few minutes you looked.

hey, are you coming?

if you have to cancel that's okay, just say it

Sent at 2:00 PM.

Wanda?

Sent at 2:14 PM.

No reply. Your hope was running short, and the café was starting to empty out. You take another look at the empty seat in front of you, then to the window's view of the roads outside. There was no sign of the brunette you much so keep precious.

You sigh, and get up, holding your phone tightly in your hands before storing it back in your pocket. It wasn't much. She was starting to deny spending lunchtime with you, and today was the first in a while she accepted. But it's worse when you find some hope and it escapes from your hands.

You put on your headphones, playing some music as you walked back, knowing the rest of the day you had to just finish up work. Hours and hours passed by and you had to stretch so you wouldn't get sore. But you made it through the end. You always do. The sun was setting as you collected your stuff and exited the building, going to your car.

You soon enough get home, having driven on auto-pilot, which was quite dangerous, but you've made it back unscathed. Or, well, physically. Mentally? You weren't doing so well.

The lock of the front door clicks with the movement of your hands, that then glide off to let your legs be free of your shoes. The place was quiet. A usual greeting whenever you'd come home, but it's gotten quieter, an in between from that horrid silence and just the atmospheric quietness. A void that seemed to swallow you up whole within your mind, replacing the silence.

You sigh heavily, walking to the bedroom. Nothing else was in your mind to do but just to take a shower. Although with how draining a shower in of itself sounded to be, you had decided with another version; the bath.

Your bag and jacket was taken off and thrown gently on the bed as you went to search for some comfortable clothes in the closet. Shirt, another shirt, jacket...Wanda's jacket, hoodie, collared shirt, and then your hand lands on a comfy oversized shirt you'd wear at home.

Sweatpants was swiped off from another part of the closet and put on the bed, ready for you get into after you were done. You go into the bathroom, closing the door behind you and locking it, even though no one else was in the house. Habit, you supposed. Plus, safety.

You turn on the faucet at the bathtub, letting the water run hastily down. You made sure the drain hole was closed and the temperature was just right before turning it off, peeling off your clothes to then carefully climb in the tub.

The warm water eased your tense muscles, the gentle small ripples visiting your skin as you moved to get comfortable. The bathtub was cold as you placed your hands on the sides, a big range in the temperature difference with the water.

Sounds of water tapping from the sink or showerhead every now and then echoes, reverberating off the walls. It was nice. Something to keep you company here and there even if your mind was hazy with thoughts.

Your eyes focus on a part of the wall somewhere in the bathroom, spacing off. You try not to do it for too long, knowing you'll only dig yourself a digger hole with thinking. Slowly, you take a deep breath in and sink into the bathtub, holding your breath in the water while bubbles went to surface.

You can feel the pressure heavy on your head. The water devouring you as you stayed down. After a few seconds though, you pull yourself back up, letting air flow back into your lungs and wiping your hair off your face.

It made you feel more alive, oddly enough, for something that's dangerous. Rather concerning if you thought about it more, but you brush it off and started to do more things, such as cleaning yourself off with some soap, the familiar scent filling the bathroom and making your exhausted soul relax just for a while.

Soon enough, you get out and dry yourself up, making sure the bathtub was drained of any water too. The cold air that visits you when you step out the bathroom, although even with a towel wrapped around your body, still stings your skin.

Your legs take you over to the bed, your hands moving on their own as you wore your clothes, the fabric covering your body and warming you right up easily.

Once you got done, you were right about to drop onto the bed, but then you look around the empty room. You end up staring at the flowers you got her in the corner of the room, sitting atop her desk. You clench your jaw slightly, and walk over to it. But you didn't do anything, really. Only your hand went up to gently touch the soft petals. You take in a deep breath before letting it go, your hand going into a fist as you let out your breath.

You turn away from it and walk back to the bed, shaking your head at your own movements and thoughts. You sat on the bed, the sheets soft on your hand. You then slowly drop down to lay your back against the mattress, your eyes looking up at the blank ceiling while your legs dangles off the edge of the bed.

With the seconds that go by, just as you were about to finally move to the pillows and lay comfortably, your phone dings with a notification. Your heart skipped a beat, and you freeze, a dreading feeling overcoming you.

You think it over and hesitate, not wanting to feel any worse, but having a gnawing feeling to check. But then you prop yourself up with your hands and grab your phone, the screen lighting up with your lockscreen as you clicked the power button.

The time shows up and a few other notifications, but one thing stood out to you most. A message. By who? Well, of course the one that's been on your mind for all of today. Your heartrate speeds up and you read the message.

Hey, sorry, I forgot to tell you I couldn't make it.

I'll try to make it home before you sleep though. Love you.

Sent at 7:34 PM.

Your eyes falter with any spark of hope you had left, and you click the power button once more, turning your phone off and slightly dropping it on the bed, it making a soft thump against the soft mattress. Your phone was fine and safe with the drop, but your heart surely wasn't.

Your throat swells up, and you hold your tongue against your teeth, trying everything within you not to let it get to you, but you slide off the bed and go to sit on the floor, your back resting against the side of the bed now.

A sniffle comes from you and your eyes well up with tears. You didn't want to cry. But with everything-- your lungs do a sharp intake of breath, and you squeeze your eyes shut, pulling your legs up to your chest and hugging your legs with your arms.

Your tears soon leak from your eyes, down to your cheeks and sobs left your mouth. God, of course you were crying. It was just a small thing. Or well, that's what your mind wants you to think. She's never left you waiting just like that.

A few more couple of minutes went by, with you letting out your built up feelings until you calm down a little more. You wipe away the mixed tears that were both from your nose and your eyes, both the skin of your hand and your arm filled with it.

They dried off though as you pulled yourself up off the floor and got back on the bed, your teeth capturing your bottom lip. So many muscles working to keep yourself moving, even though they got a rest in the bathtub, they were kept going even after.

But now, you relax a bit, shuffling to lay your head on the pillow. It was cold, so you go to grab the covers first and pull it over you. You curl up under them, your nose red from the crying. But your body got to rest as your once heavy breaths went softer with every minute.

|——————————— ᗢ ———————————|

The next day you once more awoke to empty sheets. Again and again. You were starting to question what exactly was happening, because it all seemed to be something rather than just your mind playing tricks on you.

Nothing much happened in the day. You worked at home, doing stuff on your laptop. Once you were done, you laid around relaxing while all at the same time being anxious. While the sun went down, the skies got cloudy, and just as the moon started to glow brightly, rain starts pouring down.

It was getting cozy, with the dim lighting. You watched a show on the tv, but wasn't really waiting on much, just scared of what you'll have to soon face.

As an hour or two go by with you sitting on the couch, you start to get sleepy, your eyes heavy. But right as you shut off the tv and was about to get up, you hear keys clinking near the front door.

You kept your place on the couch, your eyes keeping watch of it, but when you hear a struggle with the keys going in and not unlocking, you stand up, going to go open it for her.

You turn the lock and open it, behind it revealing Wanda who had seemed like she just got up from crouching to grab her keys.

"Hi." She says with a small laugh, smiling sheepishly as she held her keys between her fingers, showing them to you. "Slippery hands."

You didn't react much, only your lips moved to form a straight line as you stepped aside to let her in. She goes in and kicks off her shoes while you closed the door behind her, locking it.

As Wanda went to take off her jacket too, you walk more to her front, your mind only focused on what had happened yesterday.

"You didn't show up yesterday," you say in a whisper, the words coming out of your mouth without much thought. She turns her head to look at you, her mouth open slightly as she took in a breath in surprise but as if moving to say something.

"I got caught up in doing stuff and I...forgot." She puts her keys in her pockets, turning fully to you. That was when she saw your face, how different you seemed than the soft look you'd usually look at her with.

"We had lunch break, Wands." The nickname slipped from your mouth easily, especially in the situation of the confrontation. Your voice was gentle, but stern, and full of emotion.

"I know, but so much is going on and..." she trails off as she looks away from you, and you had hoped she'll go on, but instead she purses her lips and her eyes travel back to you, a breath of a sigh leaving her mouth.

"Come on, it's going to be New Year's soon." Your eyes widen a bit at the mention, having forgotten it was going to be the start of a new year from the weeks you've been lost in. She puts her hands up as if to gesture before she reaches in a bag she had brought home, grabbing something.

"I got us wine." She pulls out the bottle of wine, a small smile playing on her lips as she raises her eyebrows. Surprise was on your face before you furrow your eyebrows, seeing where she was going with this.

"Right...but we should really talk." You say, your eyes following her movement as she walked off to the kitchen, grabbing some wine glasses and popping open the wine.

"Soon, Y/N," she said sternly herself, focused on pouring the drink down in the glasses as you made your way to where she stood near the kitchen island.

"Now, are we going to party or are you going to ruin it?" She finishes up, grabbing a glass full and holding it out for you, her face obvious with expecting you to go with the first choice.

Your eyes flicker from her and the glass, before lingering on the glass. A breath leaves your body through your nose gently and your hand impulsively reaches up to grab it. It was a moment of weakness and you took it.

She smiles and hums, grabbing her own glass and taking a sip. You too, although you took a bit more than she did. The liquid easily ran down your throat, although burning slightly.

"You know what I think we should do?" She sounded out, her eyes looking towards the watch, counting down the hours until New Year's came around. You follow her gaze, and there was around two hours left.

You hum in question, looking back at her. She smiled wider and goes to the drawers nearby, opening one. You gazed curiously at her, wondering what exactly she was up to.

"We should play some Uno." She holds up the box that held the cards, and your eyebrows rose, but finally your lips raise up too slightly.

She goes over to the living room, sitting down on the couch and setting up the cards. You follow behind her, sitting on the bean bag nearby the couch as you wait for your set of cards.

The two of you start the game, it starting off slow until it moved to a few Unos and fails. You had one too many reds now, and really you were starting to hate the color.

She calls out Uno, and you had two cards left. You hoped she didn't have a yellow, seeing as she's been going with your last few reds and blues, but not a yellow.

As it was her turn, she cheers and whoops, throwing her last card onto the pile of uno cards you two played. It was a wild card.

"I won!!" She says, putting her hands in the air, and you had your mouth open in shock, looking at her with an unbelievable expression.

"That's not fair! You're using a wild card." You put your hand out, gesturing towards it. Sure you've seen this strategy before, and even used it yourself, but it definitely frustrated you most times.

"It is fair!" She laughs, drinking more from her glass and finishing the last drop of wine in it, leaving it back on the coffee table next to the stack of cards.

"Nope!" You say, grabbing the pile of Uno cards and gathering them, putting them together properly once more for another match.

"Is!" She exclaims with a smile and a tilt of her head, watching you shuffle the cards when you got them all.

Soon after a couple more rounds, and a couple more wine refills, the two of you get drunker as time inched to New Year's, your happiness only there because the alcohol riled you up.

"How'd we end up on the floor, anyway?" She asks, laughing, and her words slurring as you had your feet in her lap, your back laid on the floor while hers was against the couch.

"Because we are extremely drunk. That's how." You say through a giggle, putting up your index finger as if to make a point.

You moved to sit up and shuffle to sit beside her instead of laying down, her gaze focused on the time. You smile, looking at her lovestruck, although drunk. You then whisper, "I love you."

But she only went with, "Andddd...Happy New Year's!!" She puts her hands up and turns to you, going in to kiss you on your lips. Your eyebrows raise in surprise, but you take it.

That was how that night turned out. You both went on, and danced, and did other things until you fell asleep. The morning was ruined with a horrid hangover, but you managed, somehow. Wanda just spent her day by going with sleeping longer.

And then, in the span of months, the relationship you built so carefully with love and passion, through four months, started to fall down. All along with your heart. Slowly. Oh, so slowly.

You started to only see her in the middle of the nights, whenever the bed dips and you wake up just slightly. Most times she wouldn't even bother to go close to you and pull you close. Just keeping her distance.

On some random day, you decide to break and pick up your phone, being unable to deal with any of it anymore.

You go through the grueling process of going to your contacts and searching her up once more, your fingers not hesitating to tap on the call button.

And as you wait, you hear the calling noise sound out. That sickening. Call tone. But after just a few more, she picks up.

"Hello?" She says, and you could hear a bit of her sokovian accent coming out. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion. She only did that when she was angry or something, but you went on with your plan.

"Wanda, we need to talk." You say, although slightly calmly, you were certainly trying your best to keep yourself grounded than splutter out all the words and questions in your head.

"Yeah?" She says in a breath, and you can hear something in the background. You assume she dropped something, because it sounded like clutter.

"Why are you being so distant lately?" You slowly ask, and she went silent. It left you sitting in your thoughts as to what exactly she was doing on the other side of the call.

Probably thinking about her next words. Probably 'busy with work,' probably this, probably that. Then you hear her take in a breath.

"...I think we need to take a break." She says suddenly. You were expecting it. Not that sentence, and certainly not that straightforward. You were expecting her to say, 'We need to break up.' But your mouth would be open slightly either way.

This was happening on a phone call. Of all the times you could be together, and she decides to do it over the phone. Sure, you rang her up, but it was to go in the direction of communication, not to do something a little extreme.

"What? Wanda, what we need least of all is a break. Honestly, we need more time together than less." You say in disbelief and scoff, knowing you had spent less time than you ever had the start of last year.

"Communication. We need that. Please, we've been through this before." Your voice came out more gently, and a little shakily, your thoughts having gone to the past but not lingering.

"I tried spending time with you. It's just...I don't know, Y/N." She said in frustration, and your eyes roll slightly then move around the room, looking at every furniture here as you tried to make sense of the situation and find more words to say to her.

"What do you mean, you 'don't know'??" You question. She was either just as confused of her emotions or feelings just as you were or, she was holding something back.

"I love you, you know that. But I...don't think we can work right now." She said urgently at first before transitioning to a slower pace in her talking. Your eyes well up with tears, and it took everything in you not to straight up hang up the phone. You had to deal with this even through the tears while talking to her. You took a deep breath.

"Talk, Wanda." You say, and she goes quiet once more. This time, perhaps out of guilt. The silence was deafening, and you had nothing to focus on except for the hardwood flooring and the carpet.

"I...think I'm falling out of love with you." At that, your heart drops. Her voice was shaky too, and full of emotions. Way more than you've ever heard for the past few days.

"What...?" The word comes out in a breath from your mouth. It didn't feel real. This didn't feel real. Your heart didn't even feel like it was beating anymore. Was this one of your nightmares? Well, it's a real one, that's for sure, with the texture of the couch felt against the skin of your hands.

"I don't wanna fight with you and...you're making no sense." You look up and sniffle, trying your best not to let yourself cry while still on the call. Wanda was silent.

"But okay. If that's what you really want." You nod continuiously, your voice obvious in sounding like you're about to tear up. And you were.

"I'll see you later, Y/N." She said. You didn't even get the chance to hang up, the ending tone sounding out and echoing. The silence wasn't a welcome back at all. A welcome to hell? Maybe.

You sat with your shoulders slumping, processing what had just happened, and you finally break, crying once again.

The rest of the day was filled with dread and like your heart was getting beat and shattered to a million peaces. You had retreated to the comfort of your bed, laying in it and letting your tears stain the pillow you laid your head on.

You slept all alone.

But you'd do it over and over again for her. Just because you believed it'll pass with time. Just because...you didn't want to let go yet. Just a little longer.

You only saw her once in december. And it wasn't even really december anymore, it was new year's day. Plans that started every now and then, though rare, was getting cancelled.

She seemed like she was getting sick to her stomach every time she met you face to face once more. Either that or your mind was tricking you.

Your body subconsciously moved every now and then, searching for the warmth of another body next to you, but there wasn't one, and your body had found your own warmth by curling up instead.

end of chapter 4. </3

Series Masterlist <- Chapter 3 Chapter 5 ->

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taglist <3 - join here! :]

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[natashasilverfox]

This is so beautiful! It hits you…

To My Love And Her Forever Person

MASTERLIST ↠ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter 2

Summary: After you and Natasha break up, you decide to write a letter to her and her future forever person

Warnings: Angst

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

A/N: I might do a Part 2… lemme know if I should!

драгоценная ангел - precious angel  

↠↠↠

Keep reading

[natashasilverfox]

🚨🚨🚨New Favorite Series Alert!🚨 🚨🚨

I’m loving everything so far and Isabella has no chill!🤣🤣🤣 I can see she gets that from Sam lol! I love her so much!💖 This chapter with Natasha was 🔥🔥🔥. I’m really loving the cute banter and chemistry between Natasha and Y/n.😊

Hotel California | Track 4: Neon Nights

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 7.3k

Chapter 4/12

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: A long one for the long wait.

18+ Minors DNI (mature)

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

The venue buzzes with restless energy, the kind that has your skin prickling with anticipation. You fan yourself, trying to ignore the oppressive heat that clings to you like a second skin. Velvet Rebellion is gathering on stage, their figures silhouetted against the dim lights, and you can feel the crowd's excitement rising like a wave ready to crash.

You’ve made it just in time, the opening notes of the set are just about to drop. Standing backstage, off to the side, you watch with your hands clasped in front of you, a mix of excitement and nerves thrumming through your veins. The air is thick with the stench of sweat, spilled beer, and the heavy musk of someone’s cologne, all blending into a cocktail of smells that screams of a night about to explode.

Fans are packed tight against the stage, pushing and shoving to get just a little closer, to catch a glimpse of Natasha as she steps forward, the center of everyone’s attention. The anticipation is almost tangible, a buzzing hum that thrums through the floor, through your bones, as the band readies themselves to unleash whatever magic they’ve been holding back.

The song is unfamiliar to you, something new and unexpected. It’s interesting—soft and almost sweet, a stark contrast to the hard-edged image Velvet Rebellion usually projects. Natasha’s voice carries the melody with a strength that surprises you, the lilt in her tone adding a warmth that you hadn’t anticipated. It’s the kind of song that tugs at something deep inside, relatable in a way that catches you off guard. The crowd seems to know it well, their voices blending with hers as they sing along, each word echoing through the venue like a shared secret.

For the first time, you truly saw Natasha in her element. Harley’s birthday party was just a glimpse, a mere taste of what she’s capable of, but tonight? Tonight, she’s completely in her zone, commanding the stage with an effortless confidence that’s magnetic. The way she connects with the crowd, the way she pours herself into every note, it’s something you couldn’t have fully grasped until now.

Standing near the side, just out of the direct line of the performance, you almost feel at a disadvantage. You were close enough to see everything, but somehow it felt like you were missing out on the full experience like there’s a barrier between you and the raw, unfiltered energy that Natasha is giving off. The crowd is swept up in it, carried along by the music in a way that makes you ache to be right in the thick of it. But even from your vantage point, you can’t help but be drawn in, captivated by the sheer power of what’s unfolding before you.

“She’s great right?” A woman’s voice next to you interrupted your thoughts. She had to stand close enough to your ear so that you hear her over the music. 

You turned and offered her a small smile. You hadn't noticed her standing beside you, but now that she's there, it's easy to see that she was quite beautiful. You returned your attention to the stage, the band transitioning smoothly into a different song, this one heavy on the electric guitar, Natasha's voice a sharp contrast as she sang, the notes piercing the air.

Suddenly, as if she could sense your presence, Natasha looked over and you made eye contact. She hadn't known you were here until now. She offered you a dazzling wink and smile.

Your cheeks heated and you glanced away, trying to focus on anything else, the song, the stage, the people around you. But it's hard.

Natasha was a sight to behold. You felt like a crushing schoolgirl as you listened through their set. It's interesting the star power that they have. It's impressive really. They're the headliner, and yet they command the room, leaving a lasting impression on everyone they played for.

And then it's over. The final song was over and you're left feeling breathless and excited.

The final chords reverberate through the venue, and the roar of the crowd is deafening. Velvet Rebellion had just delivered a performance that left everyone in the room breathless, yourself included. You could feel the adrenaline still thrumming in the air, but your attention was locked on Natasha as she stepped off the stage.

Natasha looked around for a moment as if trying to orient herself after the intensity of the performance. Her eyes landed on you, and for a split second, she hesitated. The two of you are still in that early, delicate stage—unsure of what this is, what it could be. There was a flicker of uncertainty in her gaze like she was trying to figure out how to greet you in a way that felt right.

But then, without thinking too much about it, you step forward, closing the distance between you. You offered her a warm smile and opened your arms, inviting her in. Natasha’s expression softened, relief washing over her as she slipped into the embrace. Her arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, and you could feel the heat radiating off her skin, still warm from the lights and the energy of the stage.

“Hey,” She murmured, her voice slightly hoarse from the performance. There’s a note of vulnerability in her tone, something you hadn’t expected but find yourself appreciating.

“Hey,” You replied softly, your cheek brushing against her shoulder as you held her a little tighter. The moment feels right, like a quiet pause in the chaos that surrounds you both. Damn, she smelled good.

But the moment is fleeting. Before you could savor it any longer, the spell was broken by the sound of someone calling Natasha's name. She released you reluctantly and you stepped back, a little embarrassed at how quickly the embrace ended.

"Hey, Natasha, come over here for a group picture," Someone directed and Natasha looked to you for reassurance that you were fine with it.

"Go ahead, I'll be here," You told her. Natasha gave you a quick, grateful smile, before going off with the group of guys who had called for her. Velvet Rebellion stood proudly in a picture with the band called NewQuest. 

"It's always like that after a performance. They get their photo ops, sign a few things, and then we leave." The woman says.

You nodded.

"Yeah, it's a process. You're the one that sent Natasha those cupcakes, right?" She questioned. 

You glanced over at her and took a moment to see her. She had a confident demeanor and a friendly smile, and you realized with a start that you recognized her. “Yeah, that’s me. How did you know?”

She grinned, clearly pleased to have made the connection. “I’m Sharon Carter. I’m Steve’s girlfriend. I heard about the cupcakes from Steve, and Natasha’s been raving about them all day.”

You blinked in surprise, a smile spreading across your face. “Nice to meet you, Sharon. I didn’t realize you were Steve’s girlfriend.”

Sharon’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “It’s a bit of a small world, isn’t it? Nice to meet you too. They loved the cupcakes.” 

“Well, I’m glad they enjoyed them,” You said, feeling a bit more at ease now that you were talking to someone familiar with Natasha’s world.

Sharon nodded. “Definitely. And it’s nice to see Natasha so happy. She’s had a rough time lately, and it’s clear she’s found something special with you.”

Your cheeks flushed slightly, but you tried to play it cool. “We’re still figuring things out, but it’s been…good so far.”

Sharon gave you an encouraging smile. “Well, keep it up. Natasha deserves someone who makes her smile like that.”

You watched as Natasha wrapped up her photo session and started making her way back toward you. Sharon gave you a friendly nod before slipping away to attend to her duties.

When Natasha finally rejoined you, her face lit up with a genuine smile. “Thanks for sticking around.” 

You smiled back, unable to resist her infectious happiness.

She gestured toward the backstage area.

"There's a bar set up. Can I get you a drink?"

"I'd love that," You replied.

As you followed her further backstage, you felt a thrill of excitement, anticipating the chance to get to know her a little better.

Natasha led the way through the backstage area, her presence commanding, as she gripped your hand in hers.

The area was filled with the buzz of the crowd, but it seemed as though the two of you were in a world of your own, the energy vibrating around you. Natasha passed a beer to you while keeping one for herself.

"I hope the show wasn't too crazy for you," She cracks open her beer.

"Not at all, it was great," You assured her. "You're incredible, Natasha. I'm glad you invited me."

She looked pleased at the compliment. "I'm glad you could make it. Look, after a show, the band usually hangs out in their dressing room and takes some time to unwind. Are you down for that?

"Yeah, absolutely," You said, already feeling more comfortable around her than you had expected.

She took a sip of her beer.

"Awesome. It's just down the hall."

She led the way again, guiding you past the bustling crew and performers. The dressing room was quieter, the air smelled like the scent of perfume and hairspray. It was a world away from the chaos of the concert, and you felt yourself relax a little as you took a seat on one of the couches.

"Y/n, lovely to see you again," Tony greeted you. From the slur of his voice, you could tell he was a little tipsy.

"Oh, hi Tony," You responded, a little surprised at his sudden appearance.

Tony looked between you and Natasha and gave a mischievous grin. "I'll leave the two of you alone."

Natasha rolled her eyes and shot him a warning glare, but he just laughed and waved her off, heading over to the other side of the room.

Natasha looked at you with an apologetic smile.

"So, friends and family, I officially have a new board game for us to play," Bucky announced as he stepped into the room. There were a few groans from the other occupants.

You settled into the couch, feeling more at ease as Natasha joined you, her presence warm and reassuring. The chaos of the concert felt like a distant memory here, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and relaxation. Natasha’s closeness was comforting, and you found yourself enjoying the casual vibe of the evening.

As Bucky set up the board game, the room was filled with a relaxed, happy energy. The game, clearly something the band had played before, quickly became the center of attention. Natasha slipped her arm around your shoulder, pulling you a little closer, and you could feel her warmth against you. Her touch was light and casual, but it made your heart skip a beat.

“Don’t think you’re getting off easy,” Bucky teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “We’re all in this together.”

You laughed, catching Natasha’s playful gaze. “I’m ready. What’s the game?”

“It’s called ‘Guess the Song,’” Bucky explained, setting out a set of cards. “You hum a tune, and the rest of us try to guess it. The winner gets bragging rights and the first pick of snacks.”

Tony, now seated with a drink in hand, raised his glass. “Oh, that’s bitch baby games. Up the stakes.” Bucky simply ignored his request. No one could afford to play for whatever Tony believed were higher stakes. 

The game began in earnest, with each member taking their turn to hum out tunes. The room was filled with laughter and friendly banter, the game bringing everyone closer. Natasha’s laughter was infectious, and you found yourself getting caught up in the excitement.

When it was Natasha’s turn, she was surprisingly good at it. Her hums were spot-on, and her playful competitiveness made her even more endearing. As the game progressed, Natasha’s hand found its way to yours, resting casually on your leg. The contact was light but intimate, sending a pleasant shiver through you.

“You’re really good at this,” You said, leaning in to talk to her over the noise of the game. “Is this a regular thing for you guys?”

Natasha smiled. “We’ve had a lot of practice. Plus, it’s a good way to blow off steam after a show. Keeps us close, you know?”

You nodded, feeling the warmth of her hand against yours. “I can see that. It’s nice to be part of it.”

The game continued, and as the night wore on, you found yourself increasingly drawn to Natasha. Her energy was magnetic, and her touch lingered just enough to make you feel special. 

As the game wrapped up, with Bucky declared the winner and Tony already claiming the snacks, Natasha leaned in closer to you. “Thanks for hanging out with us tonight,” she said softly, her breath warm against your ear. “It means a lot to me.”

You looked at her, feeling a deep connection. “I had a great time. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Do you have to be home?” She asked looking at her watch. "It's pretty late.”

 "I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." You teased. "No, I don't have to be home. Though, if you wanted to come over, you're more than welcome to." The late hour felt like a perfect excuse to keep the night going, and you were more than willing to welcome the chance. The idea of inviting Natasha over was a bold move for you, something you rarely did. You usually kept your private space just that—private. But with Natasha, something felt different. You’d always had a soft spot for people who were unapologetically themselves, and Natasha’s confidence and charm had drawn you in from the start.

Natasha’s smile grew wider as she seemed to process your offer. “I’d like that,” she said, her voice carrying a note of genuine interest. “I’d really like that.” Natasha stood and patiently waited as you gathered your things. "I'm heading out. I will talk soon."

"Bye," Wanda waved a hand. "Y/n, don't forget to message me about the jewelry you mentioned."

You nodded and smiled in response. Seems you've made a friend in Natasha's best friend. As you exited the dressing room, you could hear a whoop of whistles and cheering from the rest of the band that you knew was mostly aimed at Natasha.

"Don't pay attention to them," Natasha rolled her eyes. You walked forward with her hand on the small of your back. "Did you drive?"

"No, not this time," You shook your head. "What about you?"

"I did," Natasha replied, holding up the keys she had pulled from her back pocket. "I only had a beer and a half. I promise I'm sober."

You grinned, feeling more at ease. "Good. I was about to offer you my bed if you needed a ride."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Oh really?"

"Mmmhmm," You murmured as she led you out the door and toward the parking lot. "But only if you promised to behave."

She chuckled, her laughter light and easy. "Well, the night is still young," she teased, even though she had earlier hinted at the hour.

Natasha guided you to her car, a sleek black Porsche 911 that shimmered under the streetlights. The car’s aggressive lines and polished finish spoke volumes about Natasha’s personality—bold and unapologetic.

She unlocked the car with a casual flick of her wrist, and the interior was just as striking. As you slid into the plush leather seat, you couldn’t help but admire the smooth, minimalist design of the dashboard and the powerful purr of the engine as Natasha started the car.

She looked over at you with a grin that made your heart race. "Ready for the adventure?"

"Absolutely," you replied, feeling a thrill as the Porsche glided smoothly out of the parking lot. ​​The ride to your place was an interesting one. Natasha could admit she was a bit out of her element. You weren’t just some girl she could impress with her career, money, or the sleek Porsche. Not that she had any intention of using those things to win you over. It was clear you were accustomed to the finer things in life, and she wanted to meet those expectations without overstepping.

As she followed your directions, she found herself trying to stay on her best behavior. She was focused on making sure this felt right, wanting to show you that she appreciated you for more than just the surface-level luxuries. It wasn’t about the car or the status; it was about connecting with you in a way that felt genuine.

“This is me,” You gestured after the thirty-minute drive. As Natasha pulled into the driveway, she took in the house with a quick, appreciative glance. Nestled in a peaceful cul-de-sac of Woodland Hills, the home was a striking blend of mid-century charm and modern elegance. The exterior was sleek and stylish, with clean lines and large windows that hinted at the openness inside. The driveway led to a spacious front area, flanked by well-maintained landscaping and mature trees. “Let’s hurry before the sprinklers turn on.” You offered as she followed you into the house. 

You flicked on the front lights, kicking off your heels, and dropping your purse and keys on the foyer table. It's then Natasha noticed a dog leash and collar among the things on the table.

"You have a dog?"

"Yes, his name is Bear," You answered. "He's with Isabella at her dad's. I share custody of him too."

"Cute," She smiled.

You turned back to her. "Make yourself at home. I'm a little thirsty. Would you like a drink?"

"What do you have?"

"Anything you want."

"Surprise me," Natasha responds.

"How does a margarita sound?"

"That sounds great."

"Good, because it's all I can make," You winked. You walked over to your in-home bar and began to make a margarita for the both of you. "I'll show you around." You offered. You glanced behind you to see Natasha admiring the trophies and photos lining the shelves and walls. Her gaze lingered on a Grammy Award prominently displayed on a shelf, Songwriter of the Year. Next to it, a sleek platinum plaque shimmered, celebrating a song that had achieved remarkable sales. Both awards were a nod to your significant contributions to the music industry, and Natasha's interest was evident as she took in the impressive recognition.

"These are impressive," Natasha nodded towards the awards.

"Yeah," You nodded. "I guess you could say that. I helped write a song with my friend way back when. I don't really feel like I contributed much but I see it as a bit of a participation award." You handed her the finished margarita to her.

Natasha took the drink, her fingers brushing against yours.

"Thanks," She smiled. "So, tell me more about this career you keep downplaying. You seemed to be headed for stardom."

"Yeah," You sighed. "Maybe, but I don't see myself in that light. My parents were fully on board to support me if I wanted to do it full-time. Which at the time I did. Once I had Bella my perspective changed. I didn't want to take too much time from her. That and the market for teen mother pop stars wasn't exactly big."

"That makes sense," Natasha nodded. "But you seem to be great at it. Have you ever thought about doing it again?"

"Nah," You gestured to the couch, inviting her to sit. "I can't lie and say it hasn't been in the back of my mind. I dabble in music from time to time. Mainly with my father's artists or when friends ask me to. I think I'm really happy with my career as a publicist."

"You're very talented," Natasha said, sipping her drink.

"I'll take your word for it," You smiled.

"How did you get started with music?" Natasha asked, her interest sincere.

"Well, I grew up in the industry," You shrugged. "It was all I knew. My parents had an in-home studio and I would sneak down to the studio to listen to sessions. I performed in talent shows at school and took dance lessons. It was mostly a hobby. I wanted to be like my dad. I got invited to help sing for one of his artists and we kind of made a little career out of it. I think it was for him to placate me until I got it out of my system or became mature enough to take it seriously."

"How old were you when you helped write the Grammy song?"

"Fifteen," You answered.

"Damn," Natasha nodded. "How'd you manage to stay so lowkey since then?"

"Mostly the help of my parents," You shrugged. "I've never done anything crazy to grab headlines. I've managed to keep my personal life pretty private. The press has mostly left me alone. I'm just another nepotism baby in the industry with connections."

"Do you want to be known for more?"

"I don't know," You answered honestly. "Sometimes. I feel like there's a lot more that I could do."

"But..." Natasha raised a brow.

"But I'm happy with the way things are. I get to be involved with music without having to worry about the fame. I've seen firsthand what the lifestyle can do to someone and I'm not sure I want that for me or my daughter," You answered sincerely.

"You don't have to do it," Natasha responded. "I think you have a great thing going for you now."

"I think so too," You agreed.

"Now, enough about me," You shifted in your seat. "Tell me more about you. What's your family like? I know you have that sister in London at Cambridge. What is she studying?"

"International relations," Natasha answered. "With a concentration in security studies or something. She's changed her major twice but I think this will stick. I pay the tuition so hopefully it does this time around."

"Wow, that's nice of you," You nodded.

"She's my baby sister," Natasha replied. "I would give her the world if I could."

"How did she end up there?"

"We had some issues at home," Natasha answered vaguely. "And it was best for her to go. Plus, our mom had connections there. She's from Russia originally but grew up in England in her teens. She met my dad on vacation and he moved her here. "

"What does your dad do?"

"He was a doctor," Natasha set her drink down. She took a deep breath. It was as if she was wondering what was appropriate to reveal. "Now I'm not so sure. He and my mom had a pretty rough relationship. She took us and got full custody. Raised us on a teacher's salary."

"That must have been tough," You frowned.

"Sometimes," Natasha shrugged. "We were kids. We didn't really understand. Besides, my mom did a great job. She's the reason we're where we are."

"I would love to meet her someday." You finished the last of your margarita.

"Well, I think that can be arranged," Natasha's voice was warm and playful.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, I'm sure she'd love to meet the girl who has captured my attention."

You chuckled. "Oh really? Who says I'm interested in you?"

"The fact that you invited me back to your house after a concert," Natasha answered, leaning in close. Her lips were inches from yours, and the air charged between you. "The fact that you blush every time you look at me."

"Is that right?" You whispered.

"Mmmhmm," Natasha hummed, her hand brushing against your cheek.

Her touch was gentle and teasing, and it made your heart race.

You felt a flutter of anticipation in the pit of your stomach.

"Natasha," You whispered, your lips a hair's breadth away from hers.

"Mmm?" She murmured, her voice husky and low.

You leaned in and closed the distance between you, capturing her lips in a kiss. The kiss was slow and tender at first, but soon it grew more passionate. Natasha's hands cupped your face, holding you close as her tongue explored your mouth. You pushed her back against the pillows, raising your legs to straddle her lap, before she groaned in pain. Her back arched and she reached under her to raise a Barbie doll. A reminder that you were a mother.

"Are you okay?" You asked.

"Yes, it's just that this doll was on my back." She tossed it aside, not caring where it landed. "Continue, please."

You did and continued kissing her, running your fingers through her silky, red tresses. It was only when the clock struck 2 AM that the two of you pulled apart, realizing the time.

"It's late," Natasha said, her eyes locked with yours.

"Stay the night," You offered. "I want you to stay."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

She smiled. "Well, I can't say no to an invitation like that."

You grinned, feeling the rush of anticipation.

You rose from her lap and held out your hand. Natasha followed you to your bedroom, her eyes never leaving your ass, as you swayed your hips a bit extra just for her.

When you got to your bedroom, you stopped at the foot of the bed. "When's the last time you were tested?”

"Three months ago. Healthy and STD-free," She answered. "You?"

"Same here," You said breathlessly as you raised your blouse over your head.

Natasha's hands went to your waist and you shivered, goosebumps rising on your skin. Her touch was gentle and explorative. She caressed every curve, every line as if she was trying to commit it to memory.

You closed your eyes and enjoyed the sensation, the feeling of her hands on your body. It had been so long since you'd been with someone, and it was clear that Natasha knew exactly what she was doing.

"You're so beautiful," She whispered, her lips trailing kisses along your neck. "So sexy." She whispered as she planted a kiss just behind your ear. That spot was sensitive as she ran her tongue along the curve of your neck.

Your head fell back, exposing your neck to her, as you enjoyed the feeling.

She was skilled. She knew exactly how to make you feel good. And she was taking her time, making sure you were enjoying it. She couldn't get enough of you as her hands explored your body. Eventually, you took a few steps back, her mouth never leaving your skin, as you gently fell back onto the bed.

"I want to taste you," She whispered in your ear.

Your stomach twisted and turned, a warmth growing between your legs. "Please," You begged.

Natasha pulled back, her green eyes filled with desire as they locked with yours. She kissed your lips one last time. Then, she began a trail of kisses down your neck and your chest. When she reached your breasts, she unclasped your bra, exposing them to her.

"Perfect," She said, taking one nipple into her mouth. She rolled her tongue around it, teasing it. It's then she noticed the tattoo just between both breasts.

A rose.

"A black rose," She whispered, her finger tracing it.

"A small act of defiance on my part as a teen," You explained. "I was angry and upset and wanted to make a statement. My mother wasn't happy. But, I kept it."

"It suits you," Natasha smiled before her mouth resumed its work.

You arched your back, moaning softly, as her tongue circled your nipples.

She worked her way down your body, planting kisses along your stomach and hips. Finally, she reached your hips where your jeans fit snugly against your thighs. She unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them off, leaving you exposed in your black, lace panties.

"Mmm, such a naughty girl," Natasha teased. "I like it."

"Only for you," You said, a grin playing on your lips.

"I'm honored," She replied, her eyes filled with mischief. "Let's see what else you have."

Natasha hooked her thumbs under the waistband of your panties and slowly slid them down. Her hands caressed your thighs, sending goosebumps all over your skin. When she pulled the panties free, she let out a sigh.

"Mmm, so wet already," She hummed, her finger stroking your clit. Her touch was electrifying as she touched you. Natasha was skilled and attentive. She seemed to know just what you liked.

Your breathing became shallow as you closed your eyes and lost yourself in the feeling.

She worked her way up, planting kisses on your inner thighs. She took her time with you, sucking just enough for the skin to warm on your thigh. Finally, she reached the place you wanted her the most. She settled onto her belly, a prime position for her, and immediately got to work.

She parted your folds and dipped her tongue inside, making you cry out.

"Mmm," She hummed, her tongue exploring your core.

She swirled her tongue around your clit, sucking on it, and licking it. It was unlike anything you'd ever experienced. She was relentless, bringing you close to the edge and backing off, only to start the process all over again. She used both hands to raise your thighs over her shoulders. Almost as if she were trying to get closer.

You gripped the sheets as the pleasure washed over you. Your body was on fire. You were getting closer and closer to your release.

Just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, Natasha finally gave you what you needed.

She pressed her tongue against your clit, hard, and then circled it. The pressure was incredible. You let out a cry of pleasure, the sound echoing through the room. Your orgasm was intense, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

"Oh, God!" You moaned, your whole body trembling.

Natasha continued her ministrations until you came down from your high.

"So, beautiful," She whispered, pulling back and licking her lips. "Delicious."

You opened your eyes, a lazy smile on your face. You were satisfied and content, but Natasha wasn't done with you.

"I'm not done yet," She said, as if reading your mind.

"Don't I get to taste you?" You asked, tilting your head to watch her strip for you.

"Of course, baby. I just can't wait," She admitted, before turning her back and stripping for you.

Her bra was the first to come off and she threw it aside. Then, her hands went to her jeans and she undid them.

"No," You said, sitting up. "Let me."

Natasha grinned and nodded.

You sat on your knees and reached around her. You admired the large and elaborate tattoo on her back. Your fingers traced along the skin, watching her back muscles flex as you took it all in.

"We match," You mused.

"Huh?" Natasha turned to look at you.

"Our tattoos," You said, pointing to the one on your chest.

"Oh, yeah. We do."

"I don't know if I should be concerned that my tattoo artist was so unoriginal," You teased.

"Or maybe he just had an eye for art," Natasha quipped, her hands resting on her hips. "Now, are you going to keep teasing me, or are you going to undress me?"

"Undress," You decided.

Natasha smiled and stepped out of her jeans, kicking them aside. Then, she hooked her fingers under the waistband of her panties and slowly slid them down.

You couldn't help but admire her body.

She was perfect.

Her curves were on full display, and her skin was smooth and soft. She was fit and toned. Her abs were clearly defined. She wasn't bulky, but she was strong and athletic.

"I could look at you all day," You admitted.

"Well, that wouldn't be very fair," She grinned, reaching for the bed and sitting on the edge. She spread her legs wide, giving you an unobstructed view of her core.

"You're beautiful," You whispered, moving in front of her. You pressed a kiss against her lips.

"Mmm," She hummed, her eyes locking with yours. “I want you to ride me."

"Oh?" You tilted your head. "What's the magic word?"

"Please," She grinned, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. No one had ever made her beg before. She found it kind of hot.

"Good girl," You grinned, kissing her one last time before climbing on top of her.

Natasha lay on her back, her arms resting above her head.

You straddled her waist, hovering over her. You leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. She responded in kind, her tongue dancing with yours.

You pulled back, your hands roaming over her body. You explored every inch of her, wanting to memorize every detail. You were still amazed that this woman was so into you. You made use of both your hands. You used one to part your lips while using the other to do the same to Natasha. When you lowered yourself and your clits touched the both of you let out a curse. You closed your eyes in pleasure. Though the angle was awkward you were determined to make it work.

"Fuck," Natasha gasped, her eyes fluttering shut.

"You like that?" You asked, your voice breathy.

"Yes," She moaned, her hips bucking up. "I love it." She hadn't expected you to be so forward and brazen in bed. But, she enjoyed it.

You began to grind against her, your clits rubbing together.

The pleasure was incredible. It was a wet and slippery mess between the both of you.

As you increased your pace, the friction intensified.

Natasha's hands went to her breasts, cupping and squeezing them. She pinched and tugged at her nipples, making her writhe in pleasure.

"Yes, fuck," She moaned. She grabbed your hips, directing you to move a certain way, and you hissed.

"Yes, just like that," She gasped, her back arching.

You continued the motion, circling and grinding. Your movements were becoming frantic and erratic as you both climbed higher and higher. You began to get choked up on your moans and sighs as your hips worked harder.

"F-fuck," Natasha gasped, her grip tightening.

You felt the familiar coil begin to tighten. The pleasure was building. You knew you were close.

"Come with me," You begged, looking down at Natasha.

She looked back up at you, her green eyes locked with yours.

"Yes," She groaned, her hips grinding against you.

With a few more thrusts, you both climaxed. You groaned, your pussy clenching and throbbing as you pressed down hard against her.

"Fuck!" Natasha cried out, her orgasm hitting her hard. Her body convulsed and trembled as she rode out her high.

You collapsed onto her, the both of you gasping for air.

"Holy shit," Natasha breathed, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

"That was amazing," You said, smiling.

"Come here," Natasha grabbed the back of your neck, kissing you soundly. You licked around her lips, tasting yourself and humming. You lay like that for a few more moments. Sharing lazy kisses back and forth.

"Can we do it again?" You asked as you ran your fingertips along her collarbone. You wanted more of her.

"Oh, I like you," Natasha chuckled. "Yes, we can do it again. After we've had some rest."

"I'm glad you came tonight," You rested your head against her shoulder.

"I am too," She agreed. She laid her hand on your ass, rubbing you, spreading your cheeks before letting her hand rest there. "Can this be my pussy? Hmm..." She questioned. Her free hand gripped your chin to make you look into her eyes. All you saw was pure lust. "I asked you a question." A lot of women would be turned off by the idea of her staking a claim so early on, you're not sure who those women are but you wouldn't be one of them.

"It's yours," You muttered into her lips as you leaned forward to kiss her. "As long as I can say the same."

"Yes, ma'am," Natasha teased.

"Good," You said.

You closed your eyes, a smile on your face. You were already looking forward to what was in store for the two of you.

Natasha Romanoff.

You couldn't believe you were lucky enough to have met her.

*********

The next morning, Natasha woke up in your bed, with you wrapped around her. She opened her eyes to see you sound asleep, your head resting on her chest.

She smiled.

"What a night," She whispered to herself.

She hadn't been planning on anything happening. Of course, she wasn't stupid. Inviting her back to your house was bound to end like this. She had hoped it would end like it did. Damn, she felt good. Not only did you know how to fuck, you didn't hold back. Natasha had to admit she enjoyed having a woman in bed who was just as confident as she was. Not only that but you're beautiful and you have it all together. She'd hit the jackpot.

She decided to act on impulse and began to plant kisses all over your face.

"Mm," You moaned, stirring awake.

"Good morning, baby," Natasha greeted, pecking your lips.

"Good morning," You said, a sleepy smile on your face. "I didn't take you for a pet name person."

"I'm full of surprises," She chuckled, kissing you again.

"Are you always this affectionate after a hookup?" You asked, raising a brow.

"No, but I've never had such a good time before." She shrugged. "Besides, you're not a hookup."

"What am I, then?"

"Mine," She answered. "At least, if you'll have me."

"Yes," You answered without hesitation.

"Good, because I don't want anyone else touching this," She said, her hands sliding down to your hips. "Got it?"

"Loud and clear."

"Good," She grinned, kissing you again."So, are we going to get breakfast or are we staying in bed all day?"

"Actually, I hate to break it to you but you have to go," You said. With the look on her face, you knew your word choice was wrong. "Sorry. Not like that. I'd love for you to stay but Isabella is coming home today."

"Oh, right. It's a Saturday. Makes sense," Natasha nodded.

"I had a really good time," You said.

"Me, too."

"I want to see you again," You suggested.

"Let me take you on a date," Natasha said. "A real one."

"Aren't you afraid it's going to get out to the public?"

"They're already speculating," Natasha shrugged. "If I can't hide it, I might as well go for it."

"A date then," You said. "I like the sound of that."

"Yeah, me, too," She said.

"I'll text you," You said, pecking her lips. "You can let yourself out. I'm going to brush my teeth."

"I can't wait."

Natasha got out of bed and got dressed, giving the bed one last look before she strode towards the living room. Something seemed different about the atmosphere. She was walking toward the table where she left her phone when she noticed something. A giant dog. A Bernese mountain dog. One that she would assume had the name Bear. The dog you'd said was over at your ex's house with your daughter.

"Hi," A voice behind her startled her. Across the room, Isabella was sitting at the kitchen counter, happily munching on a bowl of frosted flakes, as she watched something on her iPad.

"Hi," Natasha waved awkwardly.

"Did you spend the night?" Isabella asked, looking up at her.

"Yeah," Natasha nodded. "When did you -"

"I got here like twenty minutes ago," Isabella answered before she could get it out. "I thought Mom was sleeping but I saw a strange car in the driveway. Dad has a spare key."

"And your dad is..." Natasha began when she heard the deep baritone voice of a man entering from somewhere in the house.

"Hey, y/n, I checked the shower in Bella's bathroom. It's working fine but we still need a plumber to go ahead and look at it," His voice died down when he realized Natasha wasn't you. Sam looked dumbfounded for a second but quickly recovered. Natasha briefly recognized him. Sam Wilson was a wide receiver for the Los Angeles Rams. She was familiar with him from her extensive searches on you.

"Who are you?" He asked, his gaze flicking between Natasha and Isabella.

"That's the lady mom had a sleepover with," Isabella informed. "You know the lead singer of Velvet Rebellion. She is totally hot right dad?"

"Isabella Marie," You scolded as you stepped into the room. You wrapped your robe a little tighter around you as you spotted Sam too. "What are you guys doing here? I thought we agreed you would drop her off later."

"We did," Sam said. "But I have a meeting later so I dropped her off earlier."

"Right," You nodded, running a hand over your head. "Um, okay. Natasha this is my ex-husband Sam Wilson. Sam, this is Natasha Romanoff my..." You fumbled for a second. Could you introduce her as a girlfriend? You hadn't defined what this was yet.

"Girlfriend," Natasha answered for you. You raised a brow but nodded. That would work.

"Nice to meet you," Sam offered a small smile, holding out his hand. He gave you a knowing smirk and you rolled your eyes at him.

"Mom, do you have clothes on under that robe?" Isabella gestured to the way the robe began to slip slightly from your chest.

"Yes, "You said a bit too harshly. "Natasha was just leaving. I'm going to see her out."

"Bye, Natasha," Isabella smiled. "Nice meeting you."

"Bye, sweetheart," Natasha offered Isabella a wave. 

You walked her to the door, opening it for her. You stepped onto the front steps with her. "I'm sorry about that. I'm not that codependent with Sam or anything. I didn't know he was dropping her off."

"It's alright," She shrugged. Yeah, she found it a little weird but she trusted your word.

"I had a great time last night," You smiled, leaning in to give her a soft kiss. "I can't wait for our date."

"Me too," Natasha smiled, pecking your lips.

"I can't wait to have you again," You murmured just for her.

"Me too," She echoed. "Call me later."

"Bye," You said.

"See ya, baby." She turned and headed towards her car.

You sighed. When you saw her car pull out of the driveway your demeanor immediately changed. You walked back into the house to see Sam snacking on your trail mix.

"Sam, you're eating my trail mix," You said, your voice flat.

"You can't tell me not to," Sam shrugged. "You're not my wife."

"Sam, stop eating my trail mix," You huffed. "And get out of my house."

"Should you be this hostile? Didn't you get some last night?" He chuckled as he gestured to your current wardrobe.

"More than you," You rolled your eyes. "You have your own trail mix at your home."

"It's not the same," Sam pouted. "I miss the good old days when you would make this for me."

"That was when we were married," You pointed out. "Now, leave."

"You know, I wouldn't be surprised if the paparazzi caught you and your new lady friend," He teased. "How does she feel about that? Also, isn't it a bit early to be inviting her over? Especially with Isabella."

"First off, it's none of your business," You scoffed. "And secondly, Isabella wasn't supposed to be home."

"Well, I guess that makes sense," He nodded. "If she hurts you I'll hire someone to kick her ass if you need me to. My sister has those aggression issues."

"Hmm, where was your sister during our divorce to kick your ass?" You quipped.

"Touché," He smirked. "I'll leave you alone. Don't forget about my birthday party next week."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Love ya, Y/N/N," He said. "Bye, Bella."

"Bye Daddy," Isabella came rushing back into the room. She gave him a quick hug and kiss before walking him out. It's then you take a deep breath. You looked over to see Bear with those big brown eyes looking at you.

"Oh, don't judge me," You muttered in disbelief. 

----> next part