#soft natasha romanov

[notanactressyayy]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭. | natasha romanoff

. ݁₊ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 . Natasha and you were the only 'constant' in each other's lives. poor you, to think you could get over her so easily.

. ݁₊ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 . smut! i am not responsible for your content consumption! — making out, g!p Natasha, guided masturbation, orgasm denial, unprotected sex (p in v), choking, swearing, homesickness, fluff, reconciliation.

. ݁₊ 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 . english isn't my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. been in love w Nat for a damn long time — i've been away for a while, but turns out i can't really live without her. i miss my red so much :(

Natasha Romanoff rarely had the chance to see the same face twice. She saw a lot of people throughout her life — as a spy, as a superhero, or simply as Natasha. The thing is: it was unlike she would return to a place she’s been before. It wasn’t uncommon for her to be on the run. Thus, she traveled around the whole world, and saw thousands, millions of different faces. Destiny made sure not to let her cross paths with the same individual again. It wasn’t only the diversity of people that she witnessed, though. This woman saw the world. She knew life’s ups and downs, and at some point in her life, she just got used to the idea that it would forever be like this: boring. Boring experiences, boring women, boring men, boring relationships. Nothing was ever exciting, thrilling. It felt like she was advanced in time, and the rest of the world wasn’t following her. This wasn’t a complete lie, she got her maturity at a very young age, which made her pay the price now, in adulthood. 

For a spy, the most important thing is to learn not to be caught off guard. But it seemed like life was never on Natasha’s side. And this time — it felt good. Oh, it felt so good. 

At first, she didn’t want to get high hopes. It would be just another temporary friendship to help her pass time, nothing more. However, you managed to surprise the red haired Avenger in the best way possible. When she decided to spare a little time of her life and get to know you more, it was really mind-blowing the side of herself she discovered. She never thought she could actually be.. giddy. Like a silly, hopeless romantic girl. That is what she became whenever it was time to see you. She got excited. Actually excited. She couldn’t see through you, read your emotions or body language, like she did with other people; It was a natural thing, sometimes she didn’t even mean to do that. But you, something within you, kept her at bay. Like you effortlessly turned Natasha into a normal woman. Somebody who could love. Somebody that wasn’t raised and enhanced to be a killer. Not that you went through anything like she did, but you weren’t naive. You showed her that people didn’t necessarily have to be traumatized to be aware of things, of reality, of the surroundings. And for her, you’re the most beautiful person in the whole world. Inside and out. She adored you. 

Opening up was never easy. Revealing the broken parts of herself wasn’t like having a simple chat. But patience is a virtue and thankfully, you followed that say just fine. Little by little, the secrets came out. Most of the parts you already knew — it’s not like she wasn’t a worldwide known superhero. What you mostly had to acknowledge were her feelings, the point of view of the little girl who was experiencing it all, and becoming a strong woman, with built up walls around her heart. Doing that was no problem. Natasha couldn’t be more thankful. 

She couldn’t be more infatuated. More in love.

She’d always remember that one day: in the bar with her team, and you — chattery, music, tons of drinks and laughter. Stolen glances. Stomach butterflies, wild. The moment Clint pulled Laura a little closer to himself, and Tony kissed Pepper’s cheek. How she used that as an excuse to pull you into her lap. Your breath getting labored. Eyelashes gently fluttering, to the point she could count them. Your gentle yet tight grip on her shoulders. Your goddamn eyes staring right into hers. And the part where everything would change: her own bodily reactions to all those little details about you. When you restlessly shifted on her lap, quietly gasping when something poked you through your dress. Eyes going wide at the bulge showing on her black jeans. 

From that point on, you belonged to her.

Or so, she thought.

The sex was great, but she was in conflict — she couldn't tell if the only reason for it to be that enjoyable was because you were both tipsy, almost drunk, or if it was really meant to be that way. It felt right, yes, to have you in her arms like this — naked, piles of discarded clothes laying by her bed.. the sound of your quiet snoring as you cuddled into her. It was also a relief to her. To have someone care for her, desire her, after so long, after forever. The night had been amazing. She was a mature woman anyway, wasn't she? She could sort her feelings out without messing up everything.

Wrong. By the morning, everything would change.

You stared at her as she got up and got dressed again, eyes still a little blurry from sleep, eyebrows ceasing into a small confused frown. "You're not staying?" you'd ask, sitting up and leaning against the headboard, bringing up the sheets to cover your unclothed body. "Ugh, my head hurts like hell,"

"Got things to do." she simply answered, cradling the side of your face and kissing your forehead. You could swear the look on her face was.. apologetic. She tilted her head towards the nightstand, where some aspirin and water waited for you. "Take these. I'll text you later."

"Okay.." you mumble, disoriented. As she leaves, you reach out, shoving the aspirin in your mouth and downing the pills with water. Was there something you were missing? Because all you could remember was how good her hands felt on you, the way they wrapped around you neck while she—

You shook your head, lying down again, and closing her eyes. All the fun and pleasure you had been given from the previous night was slowly vanishing and being replaced by a feeling of uncertainty and confusion. Natasha was an enigmatic person, okay, but you thought you knew her better. She had no reason to leave you just like that, especially when she had already vented about all her past experiences, flaws and failures. Nah, it was probably nothing, you were overthinking. Perhaps she indeed had something important to take care of. You closed your eyes as fatigue took over, and slept for a little bit more.

Natasha went back to her apartment — one of her apartments, and for the whole day, her thoughts ran like crazy. Her emotions were all over the place. She had just fucked her best friend, the one person she felt comfortable and at ease with. She considered her feelings carefully; this.. dinamic, between you two, had not been platonic for a considerable amount of time. But not being platonic doens't necessarily means being romantic. It could either be love, or lust. What happened the day before was carnal, once the two of you were way too much in a drunken haze to actually feel anything.

And, like always, Natasha didn't want to think about falling in love. She felt scared just by thinking about this. It was a new territory, one she wasn't willing to deep dive in. So she took her phone and deeply sighed, opening her chat with you.

"Yesterday was fun. But I need some time. I don't think this can work. Hope you're doing okay. xx"

That text just completely shattered you.

You had no idea what you did wrong. It was not like Natasha was pushing you away forever — but while being with her, the only thought running through your mind was: I wanna be with her. I wanna explore this with her. And Natasha didn't give a single sign that she thought the opposite. You felt... disappointed. With yourself and her. For hoping.

Yeah, getting involved with an ex kgb Avenger killer spy probably wasn't the best idea.

You wouldn't simply forget everything you shared together, so the easiest way here not to create a big tension was.. being fake. The two of you weren't stupid, you were aware of the unspoken feelings going on. But what happened that night should not happen again. So your friendship was what prevailed. A friendship like the start. But obviously, with a few changes. Natasha and you didn't lose touch — on the contrary, you were closer than ever. You spoke and flirted (a lot), but with one small rule, a rule that you subconsciously added to this.. situationship. No feelings involved. It would be singularly that. Friends, some casual hookups, and nothing else.

It didn't last, because that's not what you both wished, longed for.

Little by little, this turned boring again. Not that you were the boring one and she just didn't realize this before. Far from that. The thing was: Natasha and you were supressing your feelings, consequently, supressing all the thrill, the delicious tension that hanged in the air whenever she, once again, crossed paths with you. The russian wanted nothing more than just grab you and kiss you hard, pour all the emotions that she kept bottled up throughout her life into the kiss. But unfortunately, she couldn't. She had a duty to fullfil, as someone born, destined to save the world.

And with all of this, you and her settled a distance. You with your previous and trivial life, and her, saving little girls from bad guys, and bringing down cats from tall trees. It was truly shocking: one day, you lived for Natasha Romanoff. She was your everything and everything you'd ever want. In a blink of an eye, it ended. You followed your paths, like two completely different people, with different purposes.

Right person, wrong time.

Fool her, to think she could get over you that easily. Poor you, to try and put that inside of your head as well.

Sometimes, when normally doing daily tasks, you would catch yourself thinking about her — when you were going to watch TV and put your legs on the coffee table, instead of simply sitting. It was an habit of hers. Or when eating something with peanut butter. It was her favourite late night snack. When it rained. She liked to watch the rain. With somebody else's hands on you. It wasn't right. It was never right to have somebody else touch you. You were constantly thinking about your life before things with her changed — the memories brought comfort, a sense of nostalgia.. at some point, you weren't living in the present anymore. Just faking. Faking your feelings. Pretending it was okay to let her go.

This woman ruined you for everything and everyone else.

Natasha could relate to that. In a life that could be resumed in one word: a 'whirlwind' of a life, and you were her only 'constant' among all of this... she couldn't bear this anymore.

So she made an important decision.

The decision was today.

Today: she'd take you out again, praying that, if not reconciliation, she wanted at least to say everything she had to say. Because if life taught her one thing, was to make choices that she wouldn't regret in the future. And it was damn right she would regret choosing not to meet you tonight.

Sitting in the stool of the bar, in a more secluded corned, her eyes followed your figure as you approached — purse hanging on your shoulder, dress exposing your back and a little bit of your waist, eyes so awfully soft and gentle as you looked at her. It wasn't fair. A pang of guilt hit her hard. Oh, she regretted letting that go. She wanted you to be mad at her. But you were not. She shakily rises to her feet to kiss your cheek as you stand in front of her, thankfully not stumbling. Your eyes lock again, already in a trance. Just like that other day.

"How are you doing?" you ask. Natasha could cry. She missed that voice everyday. "Did I take too long? I'm sorry."

"No, no. Don't worry." she swallows hard. You both sit on the stools by the countertop. When the bartender comes, the redhead dismisses him. She wanted the two of you sober for this. "I'm... so much better now that you're here, honestly. How about you?"

"Amazing." you chuckle, tilting your head to the side and watching her. She didn't change a bit. Hair braided, black jeans, leather jacket. That was your Natasha. "I didn't expect you calling me here, to be honest..—"

"Me neither." she admits, in a whisper. Her tongue darts out to moisten her lips, eyes involuntarily starting at your mouth. She sighs and looks into your eyes. "But I had to... I can't get you off my mind."

Her sincerity never fails to amaze you. With each second that passes, the butterflies in your tummy return, to remind you of the past — feelings and sensations resurfacing. You bite on your bottom lip and look around the bar, quickly scanning to see if there was anybody paying attention to the two of you. Maybe a few eyes here and there, which didn't linger. Everyone else was too busy minding their own business — and it's not like you'd care if someone was staring anyway. Natasha turned some heads. You felt greedy for that. You were the one having her. The only one having her.

"You live in my head rent free, Natasha." you tell her, voice having a sultry edge to it. You slowly stand, walking closer.

You take her hands and open her arms — making it possible for you to straddle her thigh. She tenses almost immediately. Her head tilts up to stare into your eyes, arms circling your waist to keep you close, where she wanted. You shake your head when you see a small frown between her eyebrows — lips pressing against that small spot, coaxing a little exhale of hers. She missed you. Everyday. Every minute. She wanted that respect and care all the time.

"What are we even doing here?" she whispers, so quietly you almost can't hear it. Her hands cup your waist and gently roam up and down your sides, palms brushing against your bare skin every now and then, all thanks to the waist slits of your dress. Your face leans closer to hers, noses bumping — the smallest of touches, making you both crave what you once had. "Why didn't I just invite you to my place right away?"

"I don't know. Why didn't you?" you raise one eyebrow, fingertips caressing her jawline. Her hands give your waist a squeeze — and you almost moan. She swore she could hear it. It replayed in her head, the beautiful sounds you made for her. She wanted to hear them again. She was going to make you sound like that again.

It wasn't just a physical thing — your body and mind craved her touch, her presence, so much that just the mere thought of being on her bed again got you soaked. She felt something wet through the rough fabric of her jeans, and that got her brain spinning. She fell for you hard. So painfully hard.

"Let's get out of here," she groans, hands firmly grabbing your thighs and lifting you up — wrapping your legs around her waist and carrying you out the pavement. Her hardness pressed right against your core — you blushed, hiding your face on her shoulder, wrapping your arms around her neck.

In a heartbeat, you were back at your house.

Your place, because it was the fastest way, when taking the cab. No words were exchanged, not yet. The aching, burning need had to be taken care of first — before properly talking. Your back hits the wall hard as Natasha pushes you against it — her body trapping you between herself and the hard surface — hands hardly, possessively holding you by the hips. Desperately, even. Making sure you wouldn't slip away from her grasp. Her lips dance with yours, tentatively, yet naturally, tongues tasting one another after what felt like centuries. She felt so good, tasted so good.

"Nat..—" you moan against her lips, having her bottom lip trapped between your teeth, then releasing it. Your forehead against hers, eyes soft and filled with desire. Your hands hold her cheeks, traveling to her jaw. Needily, you press kisses to the side of her throat, breathing shaky, heart hardly thrumming. "I never stopped thinking about you..."

"Yeah?" she hums, grabbing the hem of your dress and lifting it up, bunching the fabric by your hips. Her fingers hook around the elastic of your panties and pull them down, pooling around your feet — making you gasp, and pull away from her neck. Eyes wide open. The air hits your heat, making you needier for her.

You almost mewl.

"God, I need you." Natasha utters. She grabs you again and smashes her lips against yours once more, now with so much more passion, more need, more anxiety. Her bulge presses against your now unclothed wetness, coaxing a tiny cry of need out of you. You breathlessly pull away from her, reaching down and fumbling with the buttons of her jeans — until she stops you.

"No—"

"Quiet." she shushes, maneuvering you back, until your body hits the mattress. She climbs onto the bed and stays in a kneeling position, hungrily taking you in. Messy, needy, all for her. Sober, like she wanted planned from the first time. "That dress goes off."

Her voice is commanding, yet not harsh — and her eyes betray her a little. Her eyes are almost pleading, that it is clear how much she needs this. To have you all to herself, to show you how much she wants that. Her underwear becomes even more tight as she sees your trembling fingers, pulling the dress over your head and tossing it aside, lips parted. Just by her look, you can tell she wants the bra off, too. So you reach behind your back and grants her silent wish, breasts now exposed to her sight.

"There you are..." she moans to herself, shamelessly taking in the sight of you. You're a work of art. With her hand, she coaxes your knees open, and parts your legs. "My... you're so wet. So perfectly wet."

"You're still with a lot on.." you quietly complain, feeling hot and shy at the same time. But her gaze is enough to wipe away the confusion from your eyes. She had a plan.

"Touch yourself for me." she breathes out.

Your eyes briefly widen with the unexpectedness of this statement. You had certainly done this before — touched yourself thinking of her — but the idea of showing this, while she watched, never crossed your mind. But it wasn't an unpleasant idea. It was actually... hot. Sensual. They darken, pupils blown wide as you make yourself comfortable against the pillows, eyelids fluttering as your legs spread a little more, palm resting on your stomach, then moving down. Deliberately, it reaches your sex, a shakily sigh leaving your lips when your middle and ring finger collect some of the slick coat covering your sensitiveness, using it to slowly rub your clitoris, getting you to gasp louder.

"Natasha..." you whisper, eyes falling close, thoughts wandering.

Wandering back to the start — when you first discovered your feelings for her, then the climax, when you both got in bed due the alcohol — then the aftermath, when you needed her so much, felt so alone at night, that your fingers were the only solution. Little wet sounds echo within the room as you rub circles on yourself, applying just the right amount of pressure, that it doesn't take long for the pit in your stomach to manifest itself.

"Faster." Natasha rasps out, taking her jacket and quickly throwing it away. She pulls her tank top over her head, then undo the buttons of her jeans — leaving the bed, just so she can get rid of all the uncomfortable fabric, and climbing it again. She crawls closer to you — eyeing you as you worked on your pussy, her hands caressing your thighs, adding to the stimulation.

"Please...!" you whimper, doing as you're told — rubbing yourself faster — slipping one of your fingers inside your entrance, almost cumming, that quickly. "Please, I need you..!"

"I need you too," she moans to herself, and harshly grabs your wrist, pulling your hand away. You moan loudly in protest — Natasha wouldn't tease you. Not today, when you both needed each other so much. She discards her undergarments, finally — groaning as she's set free. Your eyes lock on her hard length, which was practically hitting her abs now.

"Put it inside me." you beg, grabbing her shoulders to pull her closer. She hovers over you, bracing herself on her forearms, on each side of your body. Your fingernails gently graze her back. Natasha was feeling so much, so much more than she ever felt. Your eyes were sparkling so much, like you were crying — shimmering with the depth of your adoration for her. You grab her cheeks and press your lips to hers, in a gentle peck. Knowing her past, she didn't have to explain her reasons for what had happened. She was scared before, and you respected. "Go on. Love me."

She couldn't wait no longer. She lowers her forehead to your shoulder and places her hands on your hips — her chest against yours, as she lined herself with your hole, effortlessly pushing inside. Stretching you out, like she once did. Having the chance to hear that delicious sounds again.

"You're mine... shit," she groans, rolling into you gently, getting you used to the feeling first. You're so tight, so perfect around her. Natasha's overwhelmed. Her hands press against the base of your throat, squeezing firmly, yet leaving enough room for air. She's so hot. "That pussy is mine. You're mine. You're all mine—"

"Yes," you moan, wrapping your legs around her middle. You wouldn't take long to come tonight. Maybe she'd make you come over and over. She rocks into you, pace not too slow, not too fast. Just right. The right tempo to bring you both the pleasure and connection you so much needed. "Mhm.. fuck, Nat, missed your cock,"

"You're gonna take it over and over—" she comments — kissing your shoulder, roaming her hands up your body, her right palm cupping your breast and giving it a firm squeeze. Your head lolls back, mouth opening to allow a satisfied moan out. "I'm never fucking letting you go again,"

She accelerates, pulling almost all the way out just to slam back into you again — feeling her climax approach. She moves her mouth close to your ear and moans — her own sounds now mixing with yours.

"Natasha...! Fuck, you feel soo good," you gasp, a wave of pleasure washing over you as you get closer. She takes the hint immediately, cupping the back of your knee and pushing it up, allowing her a better angle. "Ah, gimme more,"

"My greedy girl," she groans, her head tilting back. Her cock twitches inside of you — precum already painting you white. She glanced down at where your folds swallowed her, eyes darkening impossibly more. "You're so goddamn tight... 'm not gonna last, moya krasivaya malysha,"

"Okay.. 'ts okay... Cum with me..." you beg her, tangling your fingers into her red strands of hair, pulling her down more, so her forehead rests against yours — the eye contact increasing the intimacy of the moment. She didn't know what to expect now. Didn't know what to think. Only that she had to fill you up.

"C'mon.. nhg, darling.. c'mon.. cum around me," she encourages, feeling her own legs shake as her orgasm washed over her.

She grabbed your hips hard and slammed into you — once, twice, three times, filling you up with her hot release. You squeezed your eyes shut as your body shuddered forwards, breasts pressing against her own as a long, strangled moan flowed out of you, nails digging into her back, pressing her body against yours as you finished. Your walls clenched around her cock, swallowing her more, not allowing her to pull away just that. "God.. I love you!"

Natasha blinks, not sure if she heard right. Her heart squeezes in her chest, arms wrapping around your body. Her back hits the bed and she flips you on top of her, still inside of you — but now, her member softened. The adrenaline was running wild, but you had calmed down a little bit. Just a little. Because this time, it wasn't pure sex. It was lovemaking.

Your face is buried in her chest as she brings up the covers, creating a cocoon of warmth around you. She buries her face into your hair and inhales deeply, staying silent. Just to process things.

"I love you, too. So so much." she murmurs into you hair. She felt terrified to say this. But once you're someone who she already showed her scars to, it's not that bad anymore.

"You do?" you ask expectantly, feeling tired, drowsy. Natasha smiles at that. She feels her eyes burning with heavy emotion. She nods.

"Yes... I love you so much." she confirms, softly stroking her hair, brushing some strands away from your sweaty forehead. "And I want you to be mine. Will you be mine?"

"You're asking me to be your girlfriend after the sex?" you chuckle quietly, but happiness was evident in your voice. Now you could sleep at peace. The first night of rest you'd have in a long time. In the arms of the woman you cherished, worshipped.

Natasha had won now. She was so fucking relieved. All because of a phrase.

"Of course I will, you idiot."

"I'm never, ever, ever letting you go again." the room is messy, smell of sex lingering around you. But now things were sorted out. By the morning, you could have a more direct, serious conversation. For now, you'd rest together, wrapped up in each other's arms, like it was always meant to be.

[blue-willow-tree]

Can't stop thinking of Natasha smirking at Wanda when the waiter gives her the bill.

"Looks like everyone knows I'm the one in charge" Natasha teases, while Wanda is silently amused. You watch, knowing this simply cannot end well.

3 hours later, Natty has her ass up and knees trembling while Wanda is leaning over behind her, whispering in her ear with a massive grin. "Still think you're in charge baby?"

You're in awe of how sweet and subby Natasha truly is, and can't help but shove her pretty face between your legs <33

[dontsearchformyaccount]

Y/n: I never realised lesbains were a thing as a kid

Nat:When we were 12 years old , you told Yelena you liked my blue hair and punched every girl that said something against it .

Y/n: Yeah they were afraid of me

Nat : They still are

[nataliasquote]

Sun-kissed by an angel | n romanoff

summary: the perfect lazy morning in the Romanoff summer beach house

wc: 1.5k

notes: I know I’ve been MIA for a while, but I’m back with a short but soft and fluffy oneshot. I wish this was my life tbh, I feel like a beach holiday and a cozy morning with a hot girl would make my life so much better

-⧗-

The gentle tickle of the ocean breeze brushed across the sleeping woman’s exposed skin, stirring her from her heavy slumber with the promise of sun. It dappled through the open curtains of the balcony doors, but the light wasn’t harsh like it usually was. Many days had started just like this, crumpled sheets and exposed limbs being warmed by the dazzling sun. Y/n blinked to adjust to the brightness, stretching her limbs out across the expanse of soft white blankets, frowning as her palms landed upon nothing but fabric. The bed was larger, far bigger than any she’d slept in before, but it felt even bigger without her person by her side.

Waking up with the sea view directly in front of her was a dream but even the gentle rolling waves didn’t quite tug the smile back to her lips as she swung her legs out of bed and let her feet land upon the sanded hardwood floor. Without pulling on anything to cover her blue pyjama shorts set, she wandered down the hallway of the country style house, passing the photo covered walls and airy windows, until she reached the kitchen.

The radio on the windowsill crackled out nostalgic tunes and Y/n paused in the doorway, taking in the sight before her. The redheaded woman she adored with her whole heart was swaying softly to the music, the oversized white button down that adorned her body hanging loosely from her shoulders and stopping mid thigh. The large window above the sink was wide open, letting in a deliciousness to drift from the beach below and mix with the combination of freshly brewed coffee and the new bouquet sitting in prize position on the grand windowsill.

Natasha’s back was turned as she hummed to herself, allowing her wife a moment of admiration before she crossed the tiled floor and slipped her arms around the redhead’s waist. Natasha wasn’t startled, she was an ex spy after all, but her body immediately relaxed into the touch of her wife. They stayed embraced for a few moments, Natasha’s head tilting backwards to rest on Y/n’s shoulder behind her. She smiled lazily and brought her own hands up to grasp onto her lover’s, holding her tightly.

“Did you sleep well?” She muttered softly, goosebumps littering her skin as Y/n’s hands grazed her stomach.

Y/n hummed, turning her wife around so they were finally face to face. “I would have slept better if you didn’t leave before I woke up.” Her mouth pouted slightly but Natasha quickly kissed her lips, her remedy for unhappiness.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she apologised, “I just wanted to surprise you with breakfast.”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed at the mention of food. Her wife was a lot of things, but a cook she was not. She followed Natasha’s gaze to a pan on the stove where a sorry looking egg was cooking - or at least trying to.

“Tasha, honey… you haven’t turned the stove on.”

Natasha went to protest but Y/n pressed the button and turned the dial, the pair of them watching as the oil in the pan began to sizzle. Y/n smiled, trying to hide her laughter but Natasha caught her and huffed, sliding away from the stove and dragging Y/n over to the other counter, trapping her body in between the granite countertop and her strong body.

“How long have you been trying to cook that egg?” Y/n asked with fake seriousness, one which Natasha saw straight through. She rolled her eyes and pressed her hips forward, grabbing her wife’s face in her scarred palms.

“You’re lucky that I love you and will put up with this teasing after everything I do for you,” she grumbled, even though she wasn’t at all offended. Her wife was the light of her life and a far better cook, despite Natasha’s best efforts. She gazed into her love’s eyes, watching them sparkle in the sunlight and she couldn’t hold herself back anymore. Natasha pressed their lips together in a loving but firm kiss, almost like she was trying to kiss the smirk off her wife’s face. Her hands cupped Y/n’s cheeks with such tenderness that the other woman melted slightly, her body falling forwards into the comfort of her wife.

“You’re too good at that, my love, but that egg will burn if we continue like this,” Y/n started, trying to push Natasha away, much to the redhead’s disdain. The promise of breakfast was far in the back of her mind and she ignored Y/n’s help of protest when she grabbed the backs of her thighs and lifted her up onto the counter, spreading her thighs to stand between them with a smirk.

“You were saying?”

Y/n shook her head, a playful smile dancing across her lips. Her wife really was unbelievable. “At least turn the stove off, Nat. We just had this kitchen redone.”

“It’s barely warmed up.”

“And I know you. You’ll forget all about it and then complain when it’s black.” Natasha opened her mouth. “Don’t protest, you know I’m right.”

The redhead rolled her eyes but stepped away for two seconds, keeping her eyes locked on her wife on the counter as she fiddled around for the knob, turning it with a click. She raised an eyebrow, almost asking ‘happy?’ and Y/n nodded whilst beckoning her back over.

“That wasn’t hard now, was it?”

Natasha stayed quiet. Her fingertips slowly danced up Y/n’s bare thighs, tracing invisible patterns on her freshly tanned skin until they reached the hem of her shorts. Natasha laid her palms flat, suddenly looking up at her wife again through her lashes, giving her a look that melted the world away.

“Stop…” yet she wasn’t at all convincing. Y/n’s own hands absentmindedly drifted to the open collar of Natasha’s shirt, her collarbones just showing under the soft linen. “I love this shirt on you, my god.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” Y/n hummed softly. She followed her fingers with her eyes, connecting the freckles on her wife’s pale skin across her chest. Regardless of her hours spent in the sun, Natasha was never tanned, but it only made her look more ethereal in Y/n’s eyes. Like an angel with a glowing halo of hair about her head.

They didn’t need to talk, not in moments like this. Their eyes spoke a thousand words, and the soft call of seabirds in the distance reminded them both of the life they now lived, the craziness of the Avengers a thing of the past. A slow life was their new normal, and Natasha had moulded into her new role surprisingly well.

“Why don’t we go to the farmer’s market today?” Natasha suggested, her hands still resting on her wife’s thighs, her favourite place to be.

Y/n narrowed her eyes, seeing through that innocent facade. “You want me to make my salad don’t you?”

Natasha grinned, moving her hands up to Y/n’s waist, pulling her closer until her legs wrapped around Nat’s waist and they were as close as they could be. Natasha was an utter simp for her wife, and she wasn’t ashamed of that. Not at all. She would get it tattooed on her forehead if she could.

“I do, but I also want to see you in a pretty summer dress in our town today.” Another weakness, Natasha was feeling extra soft today, and Y/n would never complain. Natasha’s possessiveness came out extra strong when Y/n wore one of her favourite dresses. They always attracted extra attention and there was nothing more that the redhead loved more than to slide an arm around her waist or stop her in the street and kiss her fiercely. Just to shut down the wandering eyes of the other men and women in their small coastal town.

“What my wife wants, she gets,” Y/n leaned down and kissed Natasha’s forehead before signalling to get down. “What about breakfast?”

They both peered over at the half cooked mess of an egg on the stove before bursting into laughter. Straight into the trash it went, that was clear.

“I’m going to take my gorgeous wife out for breakfast,” the redhead announced, twirling Y/n under her arm in time to the music still playing from the radio. “With the promise of properly cooked eggs and a beautiful view.”

“I already have a beautiful view.” Cheesy.

“Get out of here,” Natasha joked, administering a slap to her wife’s ass as she ran out of the kitchen and down the hallway, a redhead hot on her heels.

But their urgency to leave was short lived as Natasha tackled Y/n onto the bed, peppering her face with kisses as they rolled around on the crumpled sheets, acting more like teenagers than thirty year old women. But they were allowed to, Natasha had been robbed of a childhood after all.

Breakfast could wait, this morning was much more important.

[agent99galanzo]

ENTERING A NEW YEAR BUT STILL OBSESSING THIS MOTHER F*****

[r3dcherri3s]

Annoying ?

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem! reader

warnings: angst, uhhh arguing and uh that’s it? I think idk

word count: 1.7K

The briefing room buzzed with the usual hum of pre-mission activity. Natasha Romanoff, poised and stoic, stood apart from the chaos, reviewing the details of their latest assignment. Her piercing green eyes scanned the screen, not missing a single detail.

Just then, you walked in, your heart skipping a beat as you spotted Natasha. Despite her cold demeanor, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to her.

You couldn't help but admire Natasha from a distance. The Avenger was everything you weren’t—strong, confident, and breathtakingly beautiful. Every time you were in the same room, your heart would race, and you’d find herself gravitating towards Natasha like a moth to a flame.

But the widow was always cold and dismissive. No matter how many times you tried to strike up a conversation or offer a kind gesture, Natasha’s responses were curt, her demeanor frosty. Yet, you just couldn't stay away. You kept hoping, kept trying, believing that maybe, just maybe, Natasha would warm up to you.

“Hey, Nat,” You said cheerfully, sidling up next to the spy. “Need any help?”

Natasha barely glanced at you. “I’ve got it covered, Y/N. Go make yourself useful somewhere else.”

Your smile faltered, but you refused to give up. “I can be useful right here,” you insisted, your tone light and hopeful.

Natasha’s jaw tightened. “Just stay out of my way,” she said icily, turning her back to you.

Undeterred, you continued to hover, your presence a persistent, gentle reminder of your affection for the redhead. Natasha sighed inwardly, irritated by the distraction. She had a job to do, and your constant attempts at getting close to her were becoming more than a nuisance.

The tension in the room was palpable as Natasha’s icy demeanor clashed with your unwavering cheerfulness. Before things could escalate further Steve entered the room, his presence immediately commanding attention. He glanced between you and Natasha, sensing the tension but choosing not to comment on it.

“Natasha, Y/N,” Steve called, gesturing for the two of you to follow him. “We’ve got a mission. Briefing starts in five.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Natasha, her expression unreadable, before following Steve to the briefing room. Once there, the rest of the team was already assembled, eyes focused on the mission details displayed on the screen.

Steve began outlining the mission, his voice steady and authoritative. “We’ve got intel on a HYDRA base operating out of Eastern Europe. We need to infiltrate, gather information, and neutralize any threats. Natasha, you’ll be leading this one.”

Natasha nodded, her usual confidence evident. “Who’s my partner?” she asked, her tone neutral.

Steve’s gaze shifted to you. “Y/N will be your partner for this mission.”

You saw Natasha’s jaw tighten, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you serious, Steve?” she asked, a note of frustration creeping into her voice. “I can’t do my job if I’m babysitting.”

Ouch.

Your heart sank, but you kept your expression neutral, not wanting to show how much her words stung.

“Natasha, Y/N is a capable agent,” Steve said firmly. “And this mission requires both of your skills.”

Natasha looked like she was about to argue, but she bit her tongue, her eyes flickering to you and then back to Steve. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “But if this goes south, it’s on you.”

Before Steve could respond, Natasha turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, leaving you standing there awkwardly. The rest of the team exchanged uneasy glances, and Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Don’t take it personally, Y/N,” he said softly. “Natasha’s just… complicated. She’ll come around.”

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely convinced. “I’ll do my best, Steve.”

“I know you will,” he replied, giving you an encouraging smile. “Just be patient with her. She’s not used to letting people in.”

With a final nod, you left the briefing room, feeling a mix of determination and fear. You knew earning Natasha’s trust wouldn’t be easy, but you were committed to proving yourself.

As you made your way to the gear room, you found Natasha already there, checking her weapons with exact precision. She didn’t acknowledge your presence, her focus entirely on her task.

You cleared your throat, trying to break the ice. “Nat, I—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted sharply, her eyes flashing with annoyance. “Just get ready for the mission.”

Swallowing your retort, you set about preparing your gear in silence, the tension between you almost tangible. Once you were ready, you glanced at Natasha, who was already waiting by the door, her expression cold.

“Let’s go,” she said curtly, not waiting for you to respond before heading out.

As you followed her to the jet, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever be able to break through the walls she’d built around herself. But despite the challenges, you were determined to try. For both your sake and hers.

Once aboard the jet, you took your seat, the hum of the engines filling the silence between you. Natasha was focused on the mission briefing displayed on her tablet, her face a mask of concentration.

This would be the mission that would change everything.

Inside the dimly lit warehouse, your nerves got the best of you. You stayed close to Natasha, perhaps too close, clinging to her for reassurance. The air was thick with tension, the sound of distant footsteps echoing through the vast space. Your heart raced, your breath shallow as you tried to focus.

At one point, your distraction caused a near-fatal mistake. You stumbled over a loose cable, sending a clattering noise through the warehouse. Natasha’s eyes widened, her reflexes kicking in as she grabbed you and pulled you behind a stack of crates.

“Stay quiet,” Natasha whispered, her voice a mix of urgency and concern. She peeked around the corner, spotting a guard approaching the source of the noise.

Your hands trembled, your grip tightening on Natasha’s arm. You felt a wave of guilt and fear, knowing you had almost jeopardized everything.

Natasha’s gaze hardened for a moment, silently she swiftly moved into action. In a blur, she disarmed the approaching guard, her movements precise and lethal. With a final, quiet thud, the guard was incapacitated, and Natasha dragged him into the shadows.

“We can’t afford any more mistakes,” Natasha murmured, turning back to you. “Stay focused, and follow my lead.”

You nodded, swallowing hard as you forced yourself to calm down. You know you messed up big time, it was only a matter of time before Natasha starts screaming. You couldn’t let your nerves get the best of you again—not when everything depended on both of you succeeding.

——————

When you both finally made it back to the safe house, Natasha snapped.

“For god's sake, Y/N, can you just stop being so damn clingy? You're a liability! Do you even realize how close we came to dying because of you?”

Y/N stood frozen, Natasha's words cutting deeper than any knife. You had never seen Natasha this angry, this harsh. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you forced them back, nodding silently.

“I’m sorry, Natasha. I’ll… I'll leave you alone.”

——————

For the first time, you actually meant it. You resolved to give Natasha the space she clearly wanted.

The days that followed were torturous. You avoided Natasha at every turn, no longer seeking her out, no longer lingering in her presence. Whenever you both crossed paths, your eyes would drop, and quickly make yourself scarce. The once vibrant and dynamic energy you brought to the base faded, leaving a void.

Natasha noticed the change immediately. At first, she relished the silence, the absence of your constant chatter. She had thought that without your questions and observations, she would finally find some peace. But soon, the quiet became unbearable. She found herself missing the way your eyes lit up when you talked about something you loved, the way your laughter echoed through the halls. The base felt colder, emptier without your presence. The missions were devoid of their usual spark, and Natasha’s own resolve began to waver under the weight of your absence.

Natasha’s frustration grew each day, her thoughts consumed by your absence. Her attempts to focus on her work, to drown out the gnawing void, were futile. Every corner of the base held memories of you, memories she could no longer escape. After a week of this torture, she couldn't take it anymore. Storming through the corridors, she finally reached your room and burst inside without knocking, her heart pounding with a mix of anger and desperation.

“Why the hell are you avoiding me?” Natasha demanded, her voice edged with a desperation she could no longer hide.

You looked up from your bed, startled and confused. “What? You told me to leave you alone, Natasha. I’m just… I’m doing what you wanted.”

Natasha’s eyes softened for a moment before the frustration returned. “I didn't mean forever! You’ve been acting like I don’t exist.”

Your anger flared, a rare sight. You stood up, facing Natasha head-on, your voice trembling with the force of emotions. “You said I was a liability, Natasha! You made it clear you don't want me around. So why are you here now, yelling at me for doing exactly what you wanted?”

The room fell silent, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. Natasha’s face crumpled with guilt. “Y/N, I—”

“No, Natasha. You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to treat me like crap and then get mad when I try to give you what you want. Just… just leave me alone.” Your voice cracked with the effort to hold back tears, your pain and frustration spilling over.

You turned away, shoulders trembling with suppressed emotion. Natasha felt a pang of regret so deep it nearly knocked the wind out of her. She had never meant to hurt you like this, never meant to push you away so completely. Her own fears and insecurities had driven a wedge between them, and she now stood on the precipice of losing one of the most important people in her life.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha whispered, her voice breaking. “I didn’t mean it. Any of it.”

But you didn't respond, your silence more telling than any words could be. Natasha left the room, her heart heavy with remorse. She was determined to make it up to you, to show you that you weren’t just an annoyance, but someone who meant more to her than she had ever realized.

part 2 ⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️

[mapis-putellas]

Touch starved

Pairings: Natasha x reader

Words: 2497

Warnings: none

Summary: It’s no secret that Natasha is extremely touch starved, but was far too shy and stubborn to admit it. She constantly makes up excuses for you to hold her. Tummy ache. Head ache. It was only after a particular challenging mission do you finally catch on.

You look up from your phone when you hear your girlfriend sigh heavily from the other side of the couch. She’d been home from work for a little over an hour, and after catching one another up on your days, you’d both taken residence on your respective sides of the couch for your weekly movie night.

“You okay?” You ask quietly as you gently nudge her with your foot, and Natasha looks your way for a short second before nodding her head. Although you were a little suspicious with just how truthful she was being, you’d learned from months of experience it wasn’t worth pushing. With one last glance her way, you bring your attention back to your phone.

You were currently window shopping for books. It had been a while since you’d treated yourself to a new one. You manage to add three to your basket that sound somewhat decent before you hear Natasha sigh again, and you once again find yourself focusing all of your attention on her.

“That was a heavy sigh,” you note as you lock your phone and place it onto the coffee table, and the red head shrugs her shoulders. “You sure you’re okay?” You ask.

Natasha seems to hesitate slightly before she flickers her eyes over to you. “I just have a headache.” She murmurs with a forced smile, and you pout slightly as you hold out your arms. The way Natasha’s eyes light up fills your stomach with butterflies, and you easily welcome her into your embrace when she crawls into your arms and settles on top of you.

Her head ends up nestled just underneath your chin, and her arms circle themselves securely around your waist. You wrap your arms around her before beginning to gently trail your hand up and down her back, your lips pressing softly against the top of her head in a tender kiss.

You feel her warm breath hit the skin of your neck when she lets out a soft sigh through her nose, and you find yourself holding her just that bit tighter.

“Skin.” Natasha murmurs against you, and you smile slightly as you reach down and slip your hand beneath her shirt to rest against the bare skin of her back. As you begin to make gentle circles, you feel her hum in content, and the smile on your lips was instantaneous.

*

It was just two days later that you feel the deja vu hit you. This time, you and Natasha were in bed, and the tv opposite playing a documentary about sea animals. It had captured your attention almost immediately, your inner nerd shining through, but Natasha’s mind, you noticed, appeared to be completely elsewhere. Her eyes were on the tv, but you could tell she really wasn’t paying attention.

“Nat?” You question, resting a hand on her thigh and giving it a soft squeeze. The red head hums as her eyes flicker over to you, and your lips quirk up into a soft smile as you reach up to give her cheek a soft touch. She seems to instinctively lean into the affection “You okay?” You ask.

That same hesitation on her face was visible almost immediately.

“Stomach ache.” She murmurs, sending you a strained smile. Something about her tone tells you she wasn’t being entirely truthful, but you knew she had no reason to lie so it must just be your tiredness getting to you.

“C’mere.” You murmur, sliding down in bed a little and holding out your arms. Natasha seems to relax instantly as she scoots herself over and falls into your arms, her arms securing themselves around your waist as yours circle easily around her shoulders.

You press a soft kiss to her forehead before bringing your attention back to the tv, your hand beginning to absentmindedly trail up and down her back.

“I love you.” You hear her murmur almost bashfully against your chest, and you smile softly as you return the sentiment. It wasn’t often that Natasha speaks those three words, but you knew without a doubt she loved you as much as you loved her. It was in the things she does and says.

Have a good day at work. Drive safe. A soft embrace and a gentle kiss against your cheek.

For so long she had fought the affection you’d give her. She’d go rigid beneath your touch. Make up an excuse to leave the room the second she saw you coming. She’d lived under the motto that had been installed in her from the mere age of six for so long that it was a hard habit to break.

Love is for children. It makes you weak. I don’t deserve it.

Those walls were still there sometimes. She still hides herself away when things get too much, but those days were now thankfully now few and far between.

You let out a soft sigh as you hold your girl close.

You don’t think you have ever loved anyone more.

*

You hum lightly beneath your breath as you stir the pasta sauce on the stove, the corners of your lips quirking up into a soft smile when you hear the distinct sound of your front door opening and closing signalling your girlfriend was home. Natasha had been away on a mission for two days, and you missed her more than you could ever bring yourself to admit.

“Baby? It that you?” You call as you turn down the heat, wiping off your hands on a clean hand towel before going to investigate.

You were met with the sight of a tired looking Natasha still dressed in her blackwidow suit kicking off her boots, and you pout slightly at the sight as you immediately head over to her and pull her into her arms. She immediately falls limp against you, so much so that you practically end up holding her up.

“Did everything go okay?” You ask in a quiet murmur as you bring your hand up to cup the back of her head, and she just barely nods against you as her arms tighten around your waist.

“Any injuries?” You push, a little concerned at how quiet she was being.

Natasha nods slightly, “Just a sprained ankle.”

Despite her words, you couldn’t help but smile. Gone were the days that she’d hide whatever injuries she had from you, and though she didn’t outright tell you when she was hurt, she never lied when you asked.

“Let’s go get you sorted. I have dinner ready for when you’re done.” Deciding that you didn’t really want to let her go, you simply bend at the knees and place your arms beneath her behind before lifting her up into your arms. Though Natasha startles slightly at the action, she doesn’t hesitate to loop her legs lightly around your hips and allow you to carry her through into the bathroom.

You gently place her down onto the closed toilet seat and leave her to get undressed as you head through to your shared bedroom to grab her some clean clothes. When you make it back, she was clad in nothing but her bra and underwear, and you smile slightly at the sight as you grab the first aid kit from beneath the sink before kneeling down in front of her.

You don’t need to ask which ankle it was. Her right one was significantly more bruised and swollen than the left, and with a small frown, you grab an ace bandage and begin to carefully wrap it up.

“We’ll get some ice on that after you’ve eaten.” You tell her as you secure the bandage with a safety pin, and Natasha nods as she lets out a quiet sigh before reaching for her shirt. Before you knew it, dinner was finished and you were on the couch with Natasha’s foot in your lap. You were holding an ice pack to her ankle whilst she stares up at the ceiling, your finger tips grazing up and down her bare leg.

Natasha seems to relish in the feeling of your touch, but with the way she was constantly shifting in place you knew she wasn’t as comfortable as she seemed.

Getting an inkling as to what was wrong, you replace your lap with a pillow before scooting out from beneath her. You crawl up her body before curling yourself up next to her, throwing a leg over her hips and resting your head against her shoulder.

“Better?” You ask quietly as you slip your hand underneath her tank top to rest on her bare stomach, and you feel her nod ever so slightly.

You end up falling asleep on the couch, only waking up in the early hours of the morning when you feel Natasha shifting beneath you.

“You okay?” You murmur hoarsely as you climb off of her and attempt to rub the sleep out of your eyes, and Natasha nods as she sits herself up.

“Gotta pee.” She murmurs with a tired smile as she rises to what feet, and you immediately return it as you watch her limp away.

Man she was so cute.

*

For the next few days, Natasha seems to milk her sprained ankle. She doesn’t outright say so, and you knew she was trying her best to be subtle, but after knowing her for so long and being able to read her cues, that black widow mask she puts on was no longer so effective allowing you to see right through her.

Her ankle was fine. Hell, Natasha operated with ease with busted ribs and had done so many times before. That wasn’t even mentioning the amount of times she’d been shot and was still able to make it back to the quinjet without help.

It tells you that she was simply using her ankle as an excuse to earn affection. It breaks your heart that she didn’t have the courage to simply just ask you to hold her, but you similarly do not have the courage to call her out on it because you knew how much it takes for her to allow herself to be vulnerable with you.

You didn’t want to break that trust. And you could also be wrong. Maybe her ankle really was bothering her. Maybe the tummy aches and head aches were real too and you were just overthinking things. But what if you weren’t?

As you eye Natasha from your place against the kitchen island, you put your plan into action.

Mission Natasha was underway.

*

The next day, almost like clockwork, Natasha gets all quiet again. You ask her what was wrong, and when she tells you it was just a headache, your suspicions grow. That, however, does not stop you from wrapping her up into her arms and holding her close, and you so without any hesitation.

It happens again two days later, except for this time, it was a back ache as opposed to a headache or stomachache. You offer her a massage, but she turns it down with the excuse that it didn’t hurt that bad.

She, however, does not turn down the offer of a hug, leaving you now one hundred percent sure. All that was left for you to do was find the courage to talk to her about it, and you dreaded the response that would greet you.

*

The opportunity ironically arises the very next day. Natasha had yet another headache and was currently sprawled out on top of you. It was silent with the exception of the dull murmur the movie playing on the tv was emitting, and though it takes you a while, you finally find yourself able to speak.

“You know you don’t have to be injured or hurting for me to hold you, right?” You murmur as you instinctively tighten your grasp around her, worried, at your words, that she’d try to get away.

Turns out your intuition was correct, because no sooner had those words left your lips, you feel her tense up before attempting to crawl out of your arms. She seemed to be acting upon instinct alone, and your heart breaks further.

“Sshh baby, no, don’t go. I’m not mad, it’s okay.” You rush to reassure, and though Natasha visibly hesitates, she eventually allows herself to once again fall limp against you again. You could tell she was still wary however, and you knew you had to be careful with whatever you said next.

“I love you,” you start as you bring your legs up, Natasha’s lower body settling in the gap that had been created. “And I absolutely adore holding you. You don’t ever have to be worried about me telling you no or pushing you away, okay? I promise.” You attempt to reassure as you cup the back of her head and press a tender kiss to her hairline, and though Natasha doesn’t say anything, you do feel her nod slightly against your chest.

With the knowledge she was now aware of how you felt, you decide it would be best to change the subject. She knew feelings on the matter, and it was up to her on what she chooses to do with them.

You could only hope she picked right.

*

About a week passes with no more excuses from Natasha. But that also means no cuddles either. You were admittedly a little worried, but as she wasn’t being distant with you and was her normal cheeky self otherwise, you decide not to question it.

It was on a random Monday whilst you were cooking dinner that something amazing happens. Natasha wonders casually into the kitchen and sends you a smile as she heads to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. You were under the assumption that was all she needed and was going to head back into the living room to carry on with the mission reports, just as she’d been doing for the majority of the day.

But she doesn’t. She takes a mouthful of the water before setting the bottle down, hesitating only briefly before sneaking behind you and securing her arms around your waist. You initially freeze in shock, but was quick to snap out of it before allowing yourself to lean back into her arms.

“Hi baby,” you greet casually as you place your hand on the ones she had settled on your stomach, giving them a soft squeeze. You knew not to focus too much attention onto what she was doing, because you knew she’d end up second guess herself and pulling away. “Dinners nearly ready.

“Hi moya lyubov'.” She murmurs, “sounds good.”

**

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I adored writing it 🤍

[hellokittyyyysblog]

𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓷/ part 3

Pairing: vampire!𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

- - -- -- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -- -- - -

The shock of your supervisor's cruel death had settled into your bones, gnawing at your conscience. The mere thought that you were teetering on the brink of becoming the very person you despised—a bystander in the face of injustice—was almost too much to bear. Edward Davis was more than just a hard worker; he was a mentor who valued your contributions, always expressing gratitude for the extra hours you put in. Despite the extra workload he entrusted to you all the time, he never took your efforts for granted. —You couldn’t shake the thought of his wife, whom he had married less than a year ago discovering that he was gone. A man’s life had been brutally cut short, and you were grappling with the horrifying possibility that you might stand by and do nothing. The guilt was a heavy shroud, suffocating you. Yet, the thought of speaking out, of risking everything for the truth, was equally paralyzing. Would anyone even believe your story? and if they did, was the truth worth dying for? you knew Natasha was going to keep her side of the deal.

Natasha’s cautionary words of the night before echoed in your mind—was this knowledge a blessing or a curse? would it consume you, driving you to unravel more mysteries and risk your safety in the process? You had always prided yourself on valuing reason and pragmatism, but now you stood at a crossroads where the allure of uncovering secrets clashed with the very real threat of danger. You needed to believe that you could navigate this treacherous path without succumbing to paranoia or becoming a casualty of the unknown.

Maybe Natasha was right after all—Were you letting this truth about the supernatural world consume you, clouding your judgment and leading you down a perilous road? More importantly, were you willing to die because of it? You valued your life too much to throw it away, just because the situation seemed impossible to handle and the reality too harsh to bear. The decision loomed heavy as you contemplated the upcoming police inquiry—would you dare to lie to protect yourself!? you knew it was a necessary step for your own survival. You needed to protect yourself from the ramifications of this newfound knowledge, even if it meant veering from the path of truth. You were going to lie.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The early morning light filtered faintly through your half-drawn curtains, casting a soft glow on the room as your phone erupted into insistent ringing. Kate's name flashed on the screen—your best friend—whose calls you had been avoiding since the day before. You knew you should confide in her—as you always had. Your friendship thrived on honesty. But the weight of the recent discoveries held you back. You couldn't risk involving her, not while you navigated this dangerous reality—You would never do that to her.

She had been in Bali for a week now, celebrating her mother getting engaged. The thought of Kate, carefree and enjoying the tropical paradise, was a stark contrast to your current reality. Maybe you should’ve accepted her offer on going to Bali with them, you probably would’ve been enjoying the sun whilst reading a good book and maybe you would’ve also got the tan your skin so obviously needed, out of it—the shear, rose of your skin not complimenting your bright, light hair enough. Or so you thought. That seemed far more thrilling to you, than having to dwell between truth and death.

Kate wasn’t exactly thriving about the vacation, but she knew better than to say no to her mother.

Kate's mother was a striking woman with an air of elegance that masked an underlying fragility. She had a commanding presence, always impeccably dressed, with elegant, manicured hands and a natural grace that drew attention wherever she went. Despite her outward poise, she harbored a protective streak towards Kate that often bordered on overbearing. She had raised Kate single-handedly since her husband's premature death when Kate was just a child, leaving her fiercely devoted but also overwhelmed by the responsibility.

Kate often envied the physical distance you had from your own family, admiring how supportive, trustworthy and loving your mother was, despite you living on the other side of the world. You reassured her countless times that her mother’s love for her was equal, if not greater, but tempered by grief and overprotection.

You would lie if you said you didn’t miss kate—even if it had only been a week. Kate practically lived at your place due to her tumultuous relationship with her mother. Not like you were against it. You loved her pecan pie on Sundays.

You and Kate had been best friends since college, where you had been roommates. Both of you were naïve, young, and foolish, but in the best possible way. You complemented each other perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle that clicked together effortlessly.

Your friendship was a sanctuary of purest loyalty and understanding, untainted by judgment or betrayal, that’s why lying to her was extremely hard for you. However you couldn’t avoid her anymore, you needed to talk to her; so you finally conceived yourself accepting her call.

As you finally answered, Kate's voice erupted from the other end in a mix of worry and frustration. "Why the hell haven't you been picking up uh? You piece of shit!" Her words were sharp, filled with concern beneath the anger.

“Kate,calm down” you replied trying to keep your voice steady.

"I'm sorry…yesterday was…rough— someone... someone was found dead at the law firm….It's probably Davis, my supervisor; I don’t know much but it seems serious” you took a breath before continuing to talk “also my boss is MIA” you finished, choosing your words careful to not reveal too much. For the first time in your friendship, you were keeping something significant from her, not out of deceit but out of necessity.

The line was silent for a moment before Kate responded, her tone softening slightly. "Oh my god, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

“yeah I’m alright…just uh still in shock..but I’ll let you know when they tell us more; probably this morning”

“Eait you’re going to work after what happened?”

“Yeah, we all have to, but don’t worry kate, I’m okay now” you remarked, sensing the need for a change of topic—“anyway, how are you? how’s Bali?”

“Bali’s..okay…I mean don’t get me wrong, the beaches are gorgeous, but I miss New York”

“Oh Kate, not again! there’s only one week left..enjoy yourself, get a gorgeous tan, drink as much as you want, flirt with the boyzzz” you say enthusiastically.

“I feel like you need this vacation more than me” she says with a sigh.

“Maybe I do” you said—a weak attempt at humor.

"Seriously, you okay? You don’t sound like yourself" Kate pressed, her concern palpable even through the phone.

“yes, kate I’m fine” you hesitated—the words had caught in your throat for a brief moment.

How could you explain the surreal encounter with Natasha, the death of your supervisor, you almost getting killed by your boss, and the existential dread that followed?—Kate had always been your rock, grounding you in reality, but this situation felt too dangerous. The thought of dragging Kate into this nightmare felt selfish, yet the need for her unwavering support was almost overwhelming. "Just…a lot on my mind. Work stuff too" you finally said, the half-truth sitting heavy on your conscience.

Kate's voice softened, the concern not fading but shifting into a familiar tone of support. "You know I'm here for you, right? Whatever it is, you don’t have to go through it alone."

Her words brought a lump to your throat, the sincerity piercing through your defenses. Despite the distance, despite the different realities you were living right now, Kate’s unwavering friendship was a beacon of hope. Maybe you couldn’t tell her everything— no, not yet—but knowing she was there for you was enough for now.

After assuring Kate that you were fine, (which you obviously weren’t) you talked for a few more minutes while you were having breakfast. You probed about her vacation in Bali, sensing her reluctance to share details, knowing the grim circumstances you were facing. Kate didn't want to seem insensitive or like she was boasting about her trip while you were dealing with such a heavy situation. Eventually, you both agreed to end the call—she needed to have breakfast with her mom and her mom's fiancé, and you needed to mentally prepare for the day ahead.

Hanging up, you couldn't shake the feeling that things were only going to get more complicated from here on.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The morning air was crisp as you made your way to the office, a gnawing sense of dread accompanying each step. As you entered the building, the usual hum of activity felt heavier, more subdued. You nodded at a few colleagues but kept your head down, avoiding prolonged interactions. Today, your goal was to blend into the background as much as possible.

As you approached your desk, you noticed a murmur spreading through the office. Small clusters of employees huddled together, their voices low but animated. The news had spread: Edward Davis had been found dead.

The office was alive with hushed conversations, speculations about what had happened, and what it meant for all of you.

As you were about to reach your desk, you found Ava already buried in her work. Her eyes were red-rimmed, a clear sign she hadn't slept well either. You exchanged a brief, weary smile before settling in.

"Hey" Ava said softly, breaking the silence. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm managing" you replied, trying to muster a convincing smile. "I was thinking of going through some of Davis's projects, see if I can pick up where he left off. Maybe it will help keep my mind off…things."

Ava approached with a look of concern etched across her face. "So, you've heard too?" she asked softly.

You met her gaze, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. "Yeah, I've been hearing whispers about it everywhere in here."

Ava nodded understandingly, her expression mirroring your solemnity. "It's unsettling, isn't it?"

You nodded in agreement, struggling to find words that could capture the mix of emotions swirling inside you. "It's just...hard to process.”

Ava nodded, her expression somber. "It's strange, isn't it? One moment he's here, the next... anyway, if you need any help, just let me know."

"Thanks, Ava" you said, appreciating her offer. —You turned your attention to the stack of files on Edward's desk, each one representing hours of his meticulous work.

Just as you were starting to immerse yourself in Edward's notes, the door to the office main door swung open.

You looked up to see the remaining CEO, James Anderson, entering with Emily at his side. Their faces were grave, adding to the already tense atmosphere.

"Attention, everyone" James called out, his voice carrying a note of urgency—"The police are in the building, and they will be questioning all employees. When you're called, please cooperate fully. I figure you’ve all heard the sad news; we need to get to the bottom of this, for Edward's sake and for the safety of everyone here."

Murmurs spread through the office as people exchanged worried glances. Your heart raced, knowing that you would soon have to face the authorities. You glanced at Ava, who gave you a supportive nod.

"Let's try to stay focused" Ava whispered, attempting to bring some normalcy back to the moment. "We'll get through this."

You took a deep breath and returned to the files in front of you. The work provided a small distraction, but your mind kept wandering back to the inevitable police interview—you needed to be prepared, not just to answer their questions, but to protect the secrets you had uncovered.

As you tried to concentrate, the words on the page blurred; the office felt stifling, the air heavy with unspoken fears. Edward's absence was palpable, a void that couldn't be filled with work or routine. And now, with the police involved, the stakes were higher than ever.

After what seemed like an eternity, though, in reality, only about twenty minutes had passed, Emily approached your desk carefully, her expression a mix of concern and weariness. She touched your shoulder, leaning in slightly. "You're up next" she said softly. "The police are ready to question you."

You felt a jolt of anxiety but nodded, trying to keep your composure. "Okay" you replied—your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

Before you could move, Emily continued, her voice a touch more personal. "I also told the police that you were looking for Davis and that he had been looking for you. They suspect that Bowman had something to do with it, since he's MIA and was the last one to see Edward."

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks. Emily seemed heartbroken and incredulous, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I can't believe this is happening" she continued, shaking her head. "Edward was a good man, and now... this.”— She paused taking a deep breath. “But don't worry, you have nothing to fear. Just tell them what you know."

You reached out, squeezing her hand in silent support. "We'll get through this" you said, echoing Ava's earlier words of encouragement. But inside, the turmoil churned more heavily.

With a final glance at Ava, you stood up and made your way to the conference room, where the police were waiting. Each step felt like walking on a tightrope, with the abyss of uncertainty yawning below. This was it—the moment where everything could change.

You could lose everything; you couldn’t afford to make a single mistake.

Emily's small smile as she gestured toward the conference room door was both reassuring and laden with unspoken concern. Her eyes, usually bright and determined, now held a glint of worry, reflecting the gravity of the situation you were all living in. You nodded in acknowledgement, grateful for her silent encouragement, and took a deep breath to steady yourself before stepping into the room.

You entered the conference room, feeling the weight of the investigation settle heavily on your shoulders. The atmosphere was charged with tension, each moment stretching taut as you braced yourself for the probing questions ahead. Thankfully, you had spent the night rehearsing what to say, each word carefully chosen and mentally cataloged. The hours of restless tossing and turning in your bed had given you ample time to prepare, ensuring that your story was airtight. Or at least you hoped it would be.

Two detectives were seated at the table, their serious expressions making your stomach churn. One of them, a middle-aged man with graying hair and a stern face, nodded at you. "Good morning, Miss (y/n y/ln), please have a seat" he said. "I'm Detective Mitchell, and this is Detective Harris." He gestured to his partner, a younger woman with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor.

"Good morning" you replied, taking a seat and clasping your hands in your lap to hide their slight tremor.

"We understand this is a difficult time" Detective Mitchell began, his tone somewhat gentle. "But we need to ask you some questions about Edward Davis and your interactions with him before his death."

You nodded, doing your best to appear composed. "Of course" you said, keeping your voice steady— "I'll help in any way I can."

"Emily mentioned that you had been looking for Davis the night he was found dead" Detective Harris said, leaning forward slightly. "Can you explain why?"

"Yes" you said, taking a deep breath. "Edward is…was my supervisor, and I needed him to review the work on a case I had finished. I went looking for him, but Emily had told me that he was in a late meeting with Bowman. I went to his office and knocked, but no one answered I made sure no one was there. However, I knew better than to disturb the CEO during a meeting—so I left."

The detectives exchanged a glance before continuing their line of questioning. You answered as truthfully as you could, omitting the supernatural elements and focusing on the mundane aspects of your interactions. The weight of your concealed knowledge pressed heavily on your conscience, but you couldn't afford to let it slip.

"Did Edward ever mention any concerns or threats?" Detective Mitchell asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Not directly" you said, frowning in concentration. "But he did seem more on edge recently. I just thought it was the pressure from the projects we were handling."

They nodded, noting your responses. Detective Harris flipped through her notes before asking—"Were you aware of any conflicts between Edward Davis and Mr Bowman?"

You shook your head. "Nothing out of the ordinary. They had disagreements, sure, but nothing that seemed serious."

After what felt like an eternity, the questioning finally concluded. The officers thanked you for your cooperation and told you that you were free to go. You stood up, your legs feeling unsteady beneath you.

Returning to your desk, you found it difficult to concentrate on the work in front of you. The office buzzed with nervous energy, the tension palpable. You knew that the day's events were far from over, and the real challenge lay in maintaining the facade you had carefully constructed.

Ava gave you a reassuring smile as you passed her desk, but the worry in her eyes mirrored your own. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever came next.

What if the security cameras had captured your hurried departure from Bowman's office, or worse, your flustered demeanor? Would the detectives interpret it as suspicious behavior? —You couldn't shake the feeling that every move you made was under scrutiny, every word you spoke weighed against yourself.

The day unfolded beneath the weight of palpable tension that seemed to seep into every corner of the office. Thoughts of Davis, his sudden absence and the unsettling whispers that flitted around occupied your mind, making it impossible to focus on your task. It was a stark reminder of how swiftly people's perceptions could shift; just days ago, your colleagues might have grumbled about Davis behind closed doors, yet now they were engaged in feigned sympathy and outreach to his grieving family—It struck a chord within you, this human inclination to reassess and sometimes sanctify individuals once they're no longer present.

Amidst the murmurs a middle-aged woman, who you remembered her name to be Lilian and two other women who you did not recognize, walked from desk to desk, discussing plans for a gathering to commemorate Davis's life on Monday. Their sudden shift in demeanor, from casual office gossip to earnest condolences, wasn't lost on you. It was a performance of respect that contrasted sharply with their previous feelings and opinion.

Oh the irony of it all, you thought as you sought quickly “refuge” in Ava's office. "Are we still on for those cocktails?" you blurted out almost desperately as Ava greeted you with a knowing look. Without hesitation, she nodded, understanding the urgency in your request. You quickly made plans and escaped the suffocating atmosphere of the office.

Walking through the busy streets of New York, the chill air nipped at your skin despite the layers you wore—you could almost hear your mother's voice admonishing you for not wearing a scarf and hat, which you despised for they seemed to always irritate your skin. The click of your high heels on the pavement echoed in the bustling cityscape, a reminder of the relentless pace of urban life, as you and Ava walked side by side.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Stepping into the cocktail bar felt like entering a different world. Soft lighting enveloped the room, casting a cozy glow over the polished wooden bar, the scent of cigar lingered in the air— the aroma mingled with the soft jazz playing in the background, creating an ambiance that made you feel at peace for an instant. If that was even possible. Peace.

The clink of glasses and the murmur of conversations created a soothing backdrop as you both settled into a corner booth. You found yourself drawn to observing the people around you, each clad in their work attire. You wondered what was hidden beneath their professional exteriors, surely it couldn’t have been as worse as the secrets you were hiding—still you couldn't help but speculate about their lives. What were their aspirations, fears, and burdens? —That’s what kept your mind occupied as Ava recounted the intricate beginnings of her relationship with Louis.

She spoke with a mixture of sarcasm and affection, making you laugh as she mimicked his deep voice and exaggerated mannerisms. “So then he says, ‘Ava, you're like no one I've ever met’ "and I'm thinking, 'Oh great, here comes the line that'll get him slapped.' But instead, I laugh and then I kiss him, and there we are, two idiots laug..” Ava paused mid-sentence, noticing your distant expression.

“Hellooo!? earth to (y/n)" she called out, waving a hand in front of your face. "You still with me?"

You snapped back, managing a weak smile. "Yeah, sorry, just a lot on my mind today" —Ava gave you a knowing look and flagged down the bartender. "Two of your strongest, please.”

As the drinks arrived, Ava slid one over to you. "Here, this'll do the trick. She said grinning at you. Ava raised her glass "To us handling this shit together." "To us" you echoed, clinking your glass against hers.

"So," Ava began, taking a sip, "what's eating you so bad?"

You sighed, swirling the amber liquid in your glass. "It's just... everything that happened today. The whole office buzzing about Davis, people suddenly acting like they cared."

Ava rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Half of them probably couldn't stand him when he was alive. Now they're all 'Poor Davis this' and 'Poor Davis that.' Hypocrites."

"Right?" you said, feeling a bit lighter. "It's like they forgot everything they said about him just a few days ago."

"They always do" Ava replied with a smirk. "But you know what? Screw them. Tonight is about us. No work talk, no office drama.Just you, me, and these kickass cocktails." —You couldn't help but laugh at Ava's attempt to lighten the mood as she quickly swallowed her drink. Taking a deep breath, you decided to follow her lead, setting aside the weight of the day for the moment. Ava leaned in, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Now, tell me. Have you seen that bartender? Total eye candy. And he seems interested, given that he hasn't taken his eyes off us for a second, if I might add."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Only you would come to a bar to pick up the bartender"

"Hey, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do" Ava replied, winking. "And...you know that I’m very into Louis right now, however, I think you two could churn out awesome babies”

You rolled your eyes, laughing despite yourself. "Please, like I need that kind of drama in my life"

Ava grinned. "Come on, you know I'm right. You two would have the cutest kids. Besides, it’s not like you’re seeing anyone else..."

You sighed, taking a sip of your cocktail. "Yeah, well, it’s not exactly at the top of my to-do list, Ava”

Ava raised an eyebrow, a sly grin creeping across her face. "Or is there someone else on your mind?"

"No, there's no one" you replied quickly, too quickly. The image of a certain redhead had flashed through your mind. You brushed it off, convincing yourself that you were just inebriated by her charm—You vaguely remembered reading something about vampires being able to enchant people. Probably just a myth, but it was a convenient enough excuse to ease your mind.

"Uh-huh" Ava said, clearly not buying it. "I know that look”

You smirked, shaking your head. "There's really no one." Ava leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Sure, sure. But if there was someone, you'd tell me, right?"

“Of course" you lied smoothly, taking another sip to avoid her piercing gaze.

She laughed, nudging you with her elbow. "Alright, I'll let it slide for now. But I expect details the minute you find someone interesting. Deal?"

"Deal" you agreed, feeling the tension in your shoulders loosen slightly. —Ava's playful banter was exactly what you needed to distract yourself, just only for a moment.

"Good. Now, back to Louis" Ava continued excitedly.

Watching Ava talking about Louis, you couldn't help but notice the way her eyes twinkled with genuine excitement and affection. It was clear that she was really into him, perhaps more than she even realized. You started wondering if you were ever going to feel that way about someone, if you were destined for that kind of connection—Would you ever find someone who made your heart race just by walking into the room? Someone whose mere presence could light up your world the way Louis did for Ava?—Or were you doomed to be an observer, always on the outside looking in, marveling at the happiness of others while your own heart remained untouched?

A part of you couldn't help but hope that one day, you'd experience that kind of love too— A love that doesn’t need to be asked or prayed for, a love that makes you feel whole without demanding pieces of yourself.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

As you stumbled through your flat's gate, each uneven step echoing in the quiet corridor, the faint optimism from your evening with Ava helped alleviate the weight on your shoulders—though it might have been the lingering effects of the alcohol.

With each precarious ascent up the stairs, your feet begged for respite—the unforgiving heels a torment that briefly sharpened your focus as you aimed the keys at the lock.

Finally inside, you shut the door behind you with a sense of relief—the world outside momentarily silenced as you kicked off your heels—the cool floor a welcome contrast to the ache in your feet.

"Enjoyed yourself?" a warm, mellifluous voice broke through the silence of your apartment. —Had you imagined it? —You had enough alcohol in your veins to rival your blood supply. But this voice, you knew well enough this voice, for your mind had replayed it endlessly for the past two days for it to stick in your mind permanently.

Turning carefully around, your eyes caught a figure perched on your couch, bathed in the gentle moonlight filtering through the partly-open window. Recognition washed over you, followed by a wave of relief.

"Natasha?" you asked, your voice tinged with surprise and a hint of annoyance as you reached for the light switch, flooding the room with a warm glow.

"That would be me, yes" she replied, her lips curling into a mischievous grin.

"What are you doing here?" you demanded, unimpressed by her ability to break into your apartment for the second time. The how of it no longer seemed relevant; you knew she wouldn't explain anyway.

"Looking for you, obviously. But you were taking too long, so I thought I’d entertain myself with a book. Hope you don't mind" she said, casually indicating the open book on her lap.

"I—uh..." you began, but she interrupted before you could form a coherent thought.

"By the way, I found your little notes on the book very amusing" she remarked, her smirk widening.

"Amusing?" you echoed, confusion coloring your tone.

"Yes, amusing" she confirmed. "However,as much as compelling that would be, I’m not here to discuss your insightful marginalia."

"Then why are you here?" you responded, maybe too quickly for the vampire’s liking— your curiosity tinged with apprehension.

"Is my presence here disturbing you in any way?" she asked, setting the book aside and rising gracefully from the couch.

"No, no..." you blurted out almost too quickly. "I'm just curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat, they say" she murmured, taking slow, deliberate steps towards you, her eyes glinting with amusement.

You flinched at her response, your mind racing. Was she here to kill you? Is that what she had meant? Had her intentions changed?

"Are you saying you’re here to..." you gulped, your voice barely a whisper, "kill me?"

"Darling, relax. I can feel how stiff you are. I'm not here to kill you" she assured—her tone soothing your paranoid thoughts.

"Thanks" you mumbled, her smile rendering you momentarily speechless. It was embarrassing how easily she affected you.

"So...you still haven’t replied to my question" she prompted, her patience seemingly endless.

"Yeah, your question, right..." you stammered, trying to recall what she'd asked. The alcohol hadn’t entirely worn off, and her unexpected presence scrambled your thoughts further. — What had she asked again? Her mere presence seemed to erase your memory, leaving you in a daze.

She smiled softly, clearly amused by your struggle to remember.

"How much have you had?" she inquired—her voice pulling you back to reality.

"Uh, what?" you asked, still disoriented.

"Alcohol. I could smell it on you since you opened the door" she said— her smirk softening into a more genuine smile.

"Uh, just enough to forget about everything" you admitted, your words tumbling out in a ramble.

Natasha's expression shifted, a flicker of concern crossing her features. "So you have come to reason; you wish to forget."

"No, that's not what I meant... I, uh, I kept thinking about Davis, and then…and then the detectives questioning us all, my colleagues... It was just overwhelming, I felt like I needed a night out with a friend" you confessed, your voice tinged with the day's accumulated stress and worry.

"Detectives, you say?" Her concern deepened, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Yeah, they questioned us all this morning" you explained—the memory of the interrogation fresh in your mind.

As you spoke, your movements were restless, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your blouse, your eyes darting around the room. — Natasha's gaze followed your every move, her eyes darkening with a mix of curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite place—Despite the day's events, or perhaps because of them, her presence had a grounding effect on you.

Natasha’s brow furrowed slightly, her gaze steady on yours, as she leaned closer. “What did you tell them?”

“The thruth”

- - -- -- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -- -- - -

Note:

hello:)

I've been tinkering with this chapter for weeks now, trying to get it just right. In the meantime, I've already started working on the next one. But, I have to be honest—I'm not sure when I'll get around to posting it because I've got exams coming up soon.

I'll do my best to get the next chapter out to you as soon as possible!

xx

[wifeofwandamaximoff]

The Student and Professor

Pairings: Professor!Nat x Student!Reader

Warnings: fluff

Summary: The love story of a professor and student.

Author's note: The reader is in college so they will be 18+ and so will be Nat. Thank you so much @natashaswife4125 for the request and I enjoyed writing this and I hope you do too!

"Y/n?" Wanda said while waving her hand in front of my face. I then get out of my daze seeing students start coming in lecture room.

I sigh while looking at my English professor. Staring at her from the farthest part of the room. My best friend sitting right next to me still waving her hand in my face to get my attention.

"She's so pretty." I said, getting lost in my head. Making a bunch of different scenarios in my head about me and my English professor.

Wanda then hit me on the side of my head hard, making me fall back in my chair making a loud noise. Which caused Professor Romanoff to look in our direction with a raised eyebrow.

I then quickly got up and shot daggers at Wanda.

"Hey you were in your own world, that was the only way to get you out!" Wanda said trying to defend herself. I just said nothing but stare at her. I then roll my eyes and turned forward, seeing Professor Romanoff eyeing us with a raised eyebrow.

The bell the rung, signaling that the lesson was about to begin. Professor Romanoff started teaching her lecture.

As a fourth year student at NYU taking a Law degree. I was given a choice between English Literature or Administrative Law. I didn't want to take Administrative law again so I chose English Literature. Which was the best decision of my life because now I have a hot professor until the end of the semester.

Wanda then rolled her eyes when she saw my looking at the professor. She hit me in the back of the head while saying;

"Stop eye fucking our professor and focus on ur work." She whisper shouted.

I jolted at her slap on my head. Turning my head towards her with daggers in my eyes.

"Fine, but stop fucking hitting me!" I whisper shouted. Wanda said nothing but started taking notes on what Professor Romanoff was saying.

Once the lesson was I was still taking last minute notes, Wanda had already left to rush to her next lesson. The students started leaving and soon enough I was the only student left in the lecture room.

Trying to make the notes look perfect, I erased some words to make it look better. I then felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and saw Professor Romanoff standing right behind me.

"Professor?" I said confusingly. I eyed her hand on my shoulder and then back up to her face which had a slight smile.

"Y/n, I was just curious of why u and Wanda were laughing in the beginning of class, I usually see zero happiness in this class since im quite strict." Professor questioned me curiously.

I then started feeling hot, her hand on my shoulder and trying to think up and answer for her question. Anything besides dreaming about us being together.

"I was just telling Wanda about my crush!" I said with a small smile. I mean I didn't technically lie so I should be fine.

Her face fell just a bit, she removed her hand from my shoulder.

"Ah, okay then." She said before walking off, descending the stairs and going to her desk to grade stuff.

I was puzzled at her change of behavior. I decided to just quickly finish my notes and leave the lecture hall. I then gather my things and quickly leave the lecture hall but before I left I felt Professor's Romanoff eyes burning hole in my head.

Hours later I was on campus going into a cafe right next to my dorm. The bell rung signaling that a customer came in. I waited a bit since there was a small line.

I heard the bell ring and I turned around to see Professor Romanoff entering the cafe. It was then my turn to order and I ordered some hot chocolate and paid.

Professor Romanoff order a hot chocolate as well. She then stood right next too me making me start to get nervous.

My hot chocolate was ready so I grabbed it when I felt another warm hand on my own. I turned to look and see Ms. Romanoff also reaching out to grab the hot chocolate. I then froze not knowing what to do.

" My apologies Y/n, I thought it was mine." Apologized Ms. Romanoff. She then took her hand off of mine which saddened me a bit.

"Its alright u can have it, Ill just wait since u probably have somewhere to rush to." I said, offering my hot chocolate.

"Detka, I have nowhere to go. Im in no rush I can wait." Ms. Romanoff explained. When she called me "Dear" , I started to feel butterflies in my stomach.

"No, its alright!" I hastily said. All of a sudden they call out that another hot chocolate was ready. I then quickly grab the hot chocolate. I give her mine of which she confused as hers. Since the one made was quite hot so I gave her the one that cooled down a bit.

"Thank u detka!" Ms. Romanoff said happily. I give her a small smile before leaving the cafe. A huge smile on my face. All of a sudden I felt a hand on my shoulder. A familiar touch.

"Ms.Romanoff?" I questioned once I turned around and saw her.

"Would u like to hangout Y/n? I have nothing to do for the rest of the day." Asked Ms. Romanoff. I felt like I was in a dream. My crush asking me to hangout!??! The best day of my life truly.

"S-sure Ms.Romanoff!" I said a bit too quickly. Ms. Romanoff giggled a bit.

"Call me Nat outside of class detka." Ms. Romanoff told me. Pretty name for pretty lady. I nod at her request. We then start walking out of campus and into a busy street after walking for a while. Talking a bit on the way.

Ive learned some new things about Nat. She has a cat name Liho, a sister name Yelena who loves Mac and cheese with hot sauce. Her favorite colors are black and red and she sucks at cooking.

We then arrived at a shop that sold some clothing.

"Nat, Im gonna go in and look at the clothing if that fine. You can go shop around this area." I told her. She then turned around and raised an eyebrow at me.

"We've come here to hangout Im not abandoning you. Ill come along with you alright detka?" She told me sternly, leaving zero room for argument's.

I just nod my head while entering the clothing store. I was then greeted with a smell of flowers. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a cute top that was white. It would show a lot my cleavage if I wore it and some stomach.

I walked towards it, I felt like it was luring me towards it. Nat was following me, curious of what I was doing. She then saw what I was walking towards.

"Nat look at this cute top!" I squealed in delight of finding such a cute top.

"It is indeed detka, but you can't wear that at school. But I know you would absolutely beautiful in that top." She said with a smile adorning her face. I felt my cheeks start to heat up from the compliment. I then decided this is a must have top so I quickly paid for it and dragged Nat out of the store.

Hours later it was dark. Lights adorning some buildings lighting up parts of the streets. I was holding some ice cream that me and Nat had just bought from a small ice cream vendor.

We were laughing and chatting on the way back to campus. I then looked up at the stars, getting mesmerized by them. I stop walking, staying silent. Nat realizing that I wasn't by her side made her worried for me until she saw me sitting on the grass staring at the stars.

"Its really beautiful tonight isn't it?" She questioned me softly. I just nod at her question.

I then feel her hand under my chin, she then turned my head around to face her's. I then looked at her confused.

She then leaned in and softly kissed me. I was frozen in shock not reregistering the kiss but before I could return it she pulled away.

"I-im sorry! I-i shouldn't have done that!" Nat rushed out quickly. She started to stand up but I grabbed her hand before she could walk away.

I then made her sit down and cup her face with both of my hands making her face squish a little. I then leaned in and kissed her passionately. I then felt her returning the kiss.

We pulled away when air was desperately needed. Our foreheads touching.

"I really like you Y/n..." She whispered to me softly. I pulled away and looked at her with a sparkle in my eyes.

"I like you too Nat, ever since I first saw you..." I said giggling at the end a bit.

"So was I your little crush that Wanda was talking about?" She asked me teasingly. I just nodded, tucking my face in her neck so she wouldn't see me blushing. She slowly pulled my face out of her neck to make me face her directly.

She then kissed me one more time. Marking that start of our love story, and the best chapter of my life.

[notanactressyayy]

·˚ ₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 | natasha romanoff

. ݁₊ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 . it was a new era of her life. she no longer had missions or a team to rely on — only endless free time, and a bunch of thoughts that weren't really helpful. Natasha for once, had time to pick up her phone — something trivial. through the dating app Tony had dared her to install months ago, she meets somebody. finally, her heart was at peace.

. ݁₊ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 . smut! i am not responsible for your content consumption! — a TW for the photo editing thing. this may be a sensitive topic for some. lonely Nat, insecure Nat — she edits a picture of her body, swearing, oral (N receiving). lots of fluffy stuff, too. set after Civil War.

. ݁₊ 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. this ended up SO MUCH longer than i initially planned. i put a lot of dedication into this so, yeah 🥹

thanks to my lovely @sunswish who helped me with the plot and the proofreading! ♡

The trailer was quiet, except for the faint rustle of the wind through the trees outside. Natasha sat at the small wooden table by the window, her knees pulled up to her chest, a steaming mug of tea resting untouched beside her. The Norwegian countryside was beautiful, vast and unassuming, but the stillness pressed down on her.

Her phone laid on the table, the screen dark. She stared at it for a moment, the faintest flicker of hesitation crossing her face. She’d never been good at this — being still, alone with her thoughts. For years, her life had been one constant motion: missions, battles, briefings, always moving forward because stopping meant thinking, having time to ponder about her life.

Her jaw tightened, and she looked out the window instead. What was she even doing?

She’d fought tooth and nail to become an Avenger, to carve out some sliver of redemption for herself, some sense of belonging in a world she’d spent so long working against. She’d believed in their cause, in their family, even when it meant trusting people with pieces of herself she hadn’t known she was capable of sharing.

And now? The Avengers were gone. Torn apart, like everything else she’d tried to build. She was a fugitive, hunted by the very government she’d once fought to protect. Her friends — her family — were scattered, some in hiding, some in prison. She was left with nothing but her name and a handful of private contractors who worked in the shadows. People she barely trusted, people who barely trusted her. Yet she still needed them for supplies, false documents, and a roof above her head. Funny, she thought.

She reached for her mug, her fingers curling around the warmth of the ceramic, though she didn’t take a sip. She had no mission now, no team to fall back on. No one to call when the silence became too much. She wasn’t sure if she missed the fights or the people more.

A faint vibration against the table snapped her from her thoughts. Her phone. She glanced down, the screen lighting up with a notification — some random email, one of these ‘no reply’ ones, nothing important. She hesitated, then picked it up anyway, her thumb hovering over the screen.

Scrolling through her phone felt… strange. Almost trivial. She opened Instagram, an app she barely used but kept around for the rare moments she wanted to feel tethered to something normal. The feed was full of snapshots of a life she didn’t recognize—vacations, dinners, smiling faces, people celebrating milestones she wouldn't ever have.

And right then, the name ‘Avengers’ didn’t make sense for her anymore. She was supposed to have this. This life where she would have a fun moment and think ‘oh, yes! i should absolutely shoot a pic and add to my stories’. After all, Natasha was just an unavenged girl, woman, human. A picture of a mother celebrating her daughter's birthday wasn't just one more picture showing on her feed. It was her dream.

She scrolled absently, her mind only half-engaged as her thumb flicked upward. Part of her wanted to throw the phone across the room and forget she’d ever picked it up. But another part—the quieter, lonelier part—held onto it like a lifeline.

She then receives another automatic notification. How has your love life been going? It took her a moment to remember what it was, and when she did, she let out a dry, humorless laugh.

The dating app.

She’d installed it months ago as a joke, because Tony had bet her she wouldn’t. She could still hear his voice in her head, teasing her. “Come on, Nat. You might actually meet someone who doesn’t want to kill you for once.” At the time, it was funny. She’d downloaded it, filled out the bare minimum of the profile, like: cat lover, captivating green eyes & martial arts enjoyer and promptly forgotten about it.

Her finger hovered over the icon now, her heart giving a strange, uncomfortable twirl in her chest. The idea of opening it felt absurd. What would she even say to someone? What would they see in her, beyond the scars and the lies and the mess she’d made of her life? That was made of her life? Could she even try and have a relationship? When throughout her life, she didn’t ever have a conversation about feelings? Clint was the closest attempt to that — he knew her past, more than the others, at least. So she spoke to him about things like that before. But he had a wife, kids, a home.

Natasha damned her heart every single day — for wanting a connection with somebody — for wanting to be somebody's, and for not being content with what she already has.

What does she even have?

She sighs deeply as she gathers a little bit of courage (that usually wasn't necessary when one was to open a simple app in their phone) and presses her thumb against the icon. Her eyebrows show a little frown as she realizes the app wasn’t open — she had held the icon for too long, making the options add to home and uninstall pop up on her screen.

“Goddammit,” she mutters to herself. Maybe she had done it on purpose. She considers choosing the second option. But her thumb, once again, hovers over the uninstall word for too long.

She was just confused. In conflict, with something so small. Although, she was braver than that.

“Let's just get over with this.” She mutters to herself as she finally opens the app — SparkMatch, she reads the name, for the first time. She lets out a scoff. Though the feeling of unease didn't take long before coming back to her. The about me section was completely empty, in exception for-

“Captivating green eyes. Cat lover.” she reads the words she had typed, aloud, cursing herself. It was what she had written in order to simply make the Iron Man laugh and leave her alone. “Great job, Romanoff. Truly irresistible.”

Scrolling down her profile, which was named only @Natasha1203— having in mind that her surname wasn't one to be openly shared — she finds the photos she had chosen, months ago, without really thinking much. Her gallery didn't have much cheering stuff. They were as nondescript as possible: a picture of a skyline she had taken while on the run. Her in sunglasses, her most common accessory. And.. a single closeup of her face, that felt too honest for comfort. She doesn’t know why she left that one there, for the world to stare at. Maybe it was the one moment where she caught herself looking like.. well, herself. If somebody squinted their eyes, they could see a small scar on her shoulder. She hoped people wouldn’t do that.

Summing up: the profile was a mess. And that was a perfect reflection of the person behind it. She doesn't make a move to edit any information — before remembering an important detail. It would be nice to change her profile's name, in case anybody (especially Tony, that was aware of this) tried to look for her.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203 was the new username.

Perfect. She does a little ‘tsk’ with her tongue, a little habit she developed when finishing a task.

Flirting was easy. She had been trained for it — trained in the art of seduction, molded into a woman that could slip into any persona, say the right words, touch in the right way, just to get what she needed. But this wasn't one of the spy programs she had access to in SHIELD. This wasn't about manipulation or information extracting. This was trivial. Normal.

Natasha browses through the app for a while. She stops in profiles of strangers that smiled back at her through their pictures — men, women, who were teachers, doctors, engineers. People with families and hobbies. Who had the chance to live a life without looking over their shoulders every second. Yet something about this.. gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling. It was faint, but it was there. Knowing all these little details about random folks, she could find small pieces of herself in each one: some did ballet when they were little. Some had a scar due a kitchen accident. Some did karate simply for liking the sport. Some liked peanut butter sandwiches. She quietly giggles, her previous nervousness replaced by a silly feeling.

Maybe it wasn't that bad. It is not like a random person was gonna crawl out of her phone screen and have a date right then, anyway. And there was another ‘problem’. This app was still american, while she was in a whole new timezone.

What a relief.

She shifts on the small couch of her trailer, now laying down on it, allowing herself to get entertained with SparkMatch. She even found some profiles that were probably deactivated by now, seeing that they were created, like, a decade ago. She purposefully clicked on the small heart on them, meaning Match. She softly laughs.

But the sound is interrupted by herself as she finds a specific user.

It was a minimalist profile — elegant, even. It didn't say much about the person's personality: it said enough. It wasn't extravagant or absurd like some she had found. And it certainly wasn't a mess, like hers.

Y/n. 34. Not good at small talk, but I'm a good listener. A photographer, currently traveling around. Just someone who thinks the world is too big of a place to stay idle for too long. Currently: Norway

It was truly something else, compared to the live, laugh, love bios or the gym rats flashing their abs.

Her curiosity picks up, and soon enough, she sees a picture of them in Oslo.

And it was posted just three days ago.

So they were active in this app. But this wasn't what her mind grasped. Traveling in Norway. International trips usually didn’t last just three days, right? So that meant they were still there. There with her.

Out of all countries in the world, they were there?

She reads the bio again. Currently: Norway.

A strange shiver runs down her spine the more she thinks about the situation she found herself into. She bites on her lip, her stomach twirling almost painfully, like a school girl texting her crush. She was the Black Widow, for God's sake. She didn't get to go on silly dates and receive flowers.

No. This was too much. Without closing the app, she locks the screen of her phone again and drops it to the couch, quickly standing up and running her fingers through her hair. There were many reasons why this wouldn't work, especially when she was a fugitive and could get recognized, even in a small cafe.

Heading to the tiny kitchen, she opens a drawer on the countertop and grabs a bottle opener, opening the fridge and taking a beer out. She removes the cap and downs the bottle with no second thought, the bitter liquid ripping down her throat. Deeply breathing, shakily. Amidst the vast emptiness, not only of the place she was currently settled, but of her heart too, she fought back tears. The glass of the bottle clicks against the marble countertop as she places it down, her hands tightly gripping onto the edge of the furniture, holding herself up. It was a hard decision to make, whether to take this opportunity and keep it safe in her heart, or to let it go and pretend it never happened in the first place.

But she wouldn't be able to rest tonight knowing she simply did nothing about that special person the app charitably put into her hands. So, on this night, the unshatterable Natasha Romanoff did something she never thought she would. Before heading to bed, she picked up her phone again. Gladly, she didn't have to look for the profile once more. She simply had to press onto the small heart next to their picture. And she did.

The screen flashed: It's a match!

Natasha blinked in surprise, almost dumbfounded by this message. But this was meant to happen, right? Now, she could only hope that she would receive something in return by the morning.

It felt.. good. She had something to expect, a little flicker of hope that followed her even in her dreams, that made her feel better than she could ever imagine.

And this was just the start.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

When the next day came, all of Natasha’s thoughts regarding the whirlwind of recent events were replaced by a single thing: that person. That New Yorker who was currently in Norway to take photos for a personal album. She initially wondered if she could really lower her guard like this and not think too much about Secretary Ross — who was still after her — but it was not like she would leave this trailer anytime soon. Thus, she needed a distraction, something to keep her brain entertained until this whole mess was over.

Talking to them was a relief — a solace she had been needing and didn't even know until now.

Talking to you.

Right away you had seen the match notification of SparkMatch, even if it was already one in the morning when it arrived. You sent this woman- Fanny? a message, and waited, but no response came until the next day. You wondered if she had impulsively pressed the match button and ran away from her phone out of nervousness. You actually imagined it, seeing the one picture of herself she published on her feed. Her profile was.. vague, to say at least, but she was incredibly beautiful, and indeed had captivating green eyes, like she boldly described herself. It made you smirk to your phone’s screen. No, genuinely smile.

It was pretty much clear that she wasn't a dating app person. And neither were you! You just had a better sense of organization than her, that's for sure. What if you two could really be a match?

As the day went on, you two engaged into a conversation that was surprisingly enjoyable for both sides. Opening the inbox chat, that could be found:

@Y/n: Good night. Is your real name Fanny Longbottom?

— eight hours later —

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Good morning! The first thing you ask a woman is if her name is real?

@Y/n: It just doesn't suit a beautiful redhead with captivating green eyes.

Natasha groaned to herself at this, laughing. The humor in the text was evident, and she loved that.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Right. It was a joke. You can call me.. Nat.

It was a glimpse of her name. It could be Natasha, Natalia, Natalie.. or all of these.

@Y/n: Nat.. that is better. Yet still very vague. Like your whole profile.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Perhaps my whole account here is a joke.

@Y/n: And we still matched. And sincerely, I'm intrigued. Intrigued and curious.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That’s a dangerous thing to tell someone you just met.

@Y/n: Personally, I wouldn’t call a cat lover dangerous.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Will you stop mocking me for my irresistible biography or what?

It was an easy playful banter. It felt light. Not like these conversations where you had to directly ask the other person to be nice to you.

@Y/n: You just don’t strike me as someone who spends much time on dating apps. What brings you here?

With that, she debated whether to mention Tony’s dare or not. She could talk about it, but not for now. If she’s sincere, about how much she needed not to be alone anymore, this could lead to something good, more profound.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: I’m just trying something new. What about you? Norway seems kinda away from the rest of the world.

@Y/n: It is. But sometimes you have to go far to find what you’re looking for.

Natasha leaned back, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She didn’t know who you were, or why your words seemed to settle something in her chest, but for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, she felt.. excited.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Have you found it?

@Y/n: Not yet. But I have a feeling I might be in the right place.

She stared at the message, her mind turning over the possibilities. She was already glad that this hadn’t started with “hey, you’re cute” or “what’s up?”, and now? It felt like she was in a dream — to find someone that shared her ideals, or that at least, thankfully, sounded like a mature adult.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Maybe Norway isn’t so bad after all.

@Y/n: So you’re also here!

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That seems like an excited message to me.

Gladly, her phone’s camera wasn’t capturing anything. Because she swore her eyes were sparkling right now.

@Y/n: Of course I’m excited, Nat. Now I have something else to think about other than shooting pictures.

Natasha stared at the reply, her fingers lightly brushing against the edge of her phone. There was something disarming about your words — direct, yet not forceful. And the way you used her name so casually made her blush.

She hesitated, before typing back.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: What do you shoot? Other than clever replies, apparently.

@Y/n: Street photography. Portraits, mostly. But I’ve been known to dabble in the occasional cat picture. You know, for balance.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Balance is important. What would the world do with no cat pictures?

@Y/n: I shudder to imagine it. Speaking of balance.. would you let me buy you coffee sometime? Or would that be too much?

Her breath caught. You really didn’t waste time, did you? she thought. For a moment, her walls threatened to go up again — she could almost hear that little voice in the back of her mind telling her that this was not a good idea, that it wasn’t smart, safe.

But she silenced it. It was too soon, for sure — but she couldn’t knock it till she tried it.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That depends. Are you going back to New York in the next few days?

@Y/n: I don’t have a specific date to go back. So I guess it depends on how things go.

Yeah. Now she felt a little pressured. It was a dilemma, she could be the reason you stayed or left. Adrenaline coursed through her veins — that was determination.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: It’s not like I am going anywhere anytime soon, either. But.. I like to play hard to get sometimes. How about we wait and see how things go?

@Y/n: Hard to get, huh? Well, patience is a virtue. Let me know when you feel like stopping the chase.

And you two went on like that — talking about your favorite portraits, sending her some — receiving her compliments, which sounded way too genuine for your liking. It was casual, like talking to a friend. Natasha didn't take long to start feeling comfortable with texting you. If she weren't a spy without a private number, she would've asked for your WhatsApp. Or maybe she was just exaggerating. The thing was: she didn't have to wonder about how to answer you. Your way of having conversations was so nice that she didn't feel forced to text back.

And with these new discoveries, Natasha felt like she could be in this new country without feeling too out of place. She feared that in the end this would be just one momentary experience, one of the many personas she played.

But shockingly, for once, she didn’t feel like paying attention to her overthinking.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

Weeks had passed, and the nightly silence Natasha once dreaded was now filled with something else. Her phone screen, once cold and impersonal, had become an opening to something warmer. A new phase of her life. She never thought she would be so close to a mobile device before. Supersecret agents couldn’t have personal ones other than burner phones, it was risky — they could get hacked, tracked, recognized. She didn’t have a number, or an email with her name, bank accounts, or any sort of thing that could link her to the authorities. She only had TikTok, Instagram, some games like Candy Crush Saga and her newest best friend, SparkMatch.

Everyday, without fail, your conversations flowed effortlessly. You spoke about everything: Norway’s quiet beauty, silly anecdotes, and even the mundane things that somehow became meaningful when shared. She made herself get used to the habit of not thinking much. This wasn’t part of the plan — or rather, there was no plan. This constant connection grounded her in a way she didn’t fully understand.

Having someone willingly care about her, without having to ask, beg for it — she couldn’t understand.

This evening, after eating her exquisite caviar and drinking champagne, she settled onto her couch with a blanket draped over her shoulders. Her phone buzzed, and her mind involuntarily anticipated your witty reply, or question about her day.

Instead, a picture greeted her.

It wasn’t posed or staged — just you. mid-laugh, with a goofy expression that instantly betrayed your attempt to be serious. Your hair was a bit disheveled, and the lighting was off, but the image carried a kind of authenticity Natasha couldn’t let pass. The caption reads:

@Y/n: I don’t usually do selfies, but I figured you deserved to see what you’ve been stuck talking to all this time.

It was caring. You thought about her often enough to send a picture of yourself, doing absolutely nothing important.

Natasha softly blinked at the picture, completely still as her brain worked to process what she was looking at. It wasn’t just a picture. There was trust behind it, a hidden message. She couldn’t tell where you were getting at with this action — actually, she could. She just tried to convince herself of the contrary, afraid of putting her hopes up and screwing up afterwards.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Hi. I wasn’t expecting that.

@Y/n: Hi! How are you right now?

She bites her lip, incredulously chuckling. She was almost certain that this question was supposed to come before the picture.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Better.

She was feeling better, but not just that — she was feeling.. something. Something like.. seen. Like she was remembered by someone, like she existed, for once.

And those feelings stirred something even deeper within her.

The connection was becoming deeper — it was just now that she realized that the flirting which occurred every now and then wasn’t meaningless. It had a deep impact on her, in her soul — as a friend, as a person, and mostly.. as a woman. She needed it. She needed someone to like her, to pay attention to her, to see her — intimately, closely. Even better when this someone wasn’t a superficial person, and actually one who she related to and felt like she could share this dormant part of herself.

So she decides to share a picture, too.

She sits upright on the couch, the blanket falling and pooling around her hips as she opens the camera. She switches from the back camera to the frontal one, and takes a selfie. She was wearing a simple grey tank top, so her shoulders, collarbone and neck were on display. She wasn’t smiling smiling, just briefly, just enough to make a friendly expression. It was soft, tender. Unlike the deadly Black Widow.

Thankfully, for you, she didn’t have to be that.

So she presses send, laying back again and staring at the screen in anticipation — her eyes closely watching as the send mark changed into seen, that then turned into open. It stayed like that for a long while — like you were examining the picture and weren’t ashamed of it.

It gave her goosebumps.

The typing bubble appeared again after what felt like an eternity.

@Y/n: You’re beautiful, Nat.

It was a compliment you had already used on her. But this situation? Oh, it felt so, so different. You were talking about the simplicity, the domesticity of her in this closeup, the softness.

Fueling the fire that started to burn within her on this specific day.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Just a selfie.. don't get carried away. I'm hardly camera ready.

@Y/n: It's more than a selfie for me. It made my day. If that's not camera ready, I wonder how it'll be like when you try.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Would you like to see?

Oops. She didn't think before sending this one.

@Y/n: Hell, yes.

Her mind was immersed, totally consumed by the attention you were giving her — no jokes, no hints, just shameless flirting. Standing from the couch, she walks to her small bedroom, which was already dark, gladly — she closes her door, and slumps on her bed. Seduction was her nature, she couldn't control it. Though it wasn't necessarily a bad thing right now. Reaching her hand out, she turned on her yellow dim lamp, a gentle, warm glow casting her skin, making a better environment for the incoming picture.

She reopened the camera and adjusted herself in a comfortable position — knees pulled up, her left hand resting above her stomach as she held her phone with her right one above herself — taking the photo. There was auburn red hair all over the pillows, some strands framing her face perfectly. There was skin showing — a bit of her thighs, her arms, waist.. the curves of her body leaving room for imagination.

And something that she forgot about for the longest time.

The bullet scar above her left hip.

She stared at the photo on her screen, finger hovering over the "Send" button instinctively. The lighting was perfect, the pose effortless yet captivating. Her expression was soft, relaxed — but her pupils were darkened, a hint of the sinful emotions coursing through her body. But her eyes fell to the scar.

It was unavoidable, cutting through the smooth expanse of her pale skin like a brutal reminder. The bullet scar left by the Winter Soldier, a relic of her past life, stood out glaringly in the image. Her jaw clenched as a familiar wave of self-consciousness surged through her, a feeling she thought she had buried already.

She sighed, leaning her head back against the headboard as her thumb swiped to open the editing tools. It took her less than a minute to brush the scar away, leaving her skin unmarked, untouched. Natasha tilted her head, scrutinizing the result. The photo looked… perfect. Too perfect, perhaps, but she didn’t allow herself to dwell on that.

With a deep breath, she pressed send.

Unlike your other conversations, she felt.. heavy. Like the instinct of having to show her perfect body in order to be liked was speaking louder than her rational side.

The message was delivered almost immediately, but the seconds felt drawn out, agonizingly long. When the "seen" indicator appeared, her heart raced. She bit the inside of her cheek, anticipating your response.

The reply came swiftly:

@Y/n: Wow. I’m speechless.

She smirked (bittersweetly), her thumb hesitating for only a moment before typing back.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That’s a first. Usually, you always have something to say.

The typing bubble reappeared, and she waited, her heart thudding in her chest.

@Y/n: You make it hard to think, Nat.

Natasha felt warmth flood her cheeks, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Don’t let it go to your head.

@Y/n: I think it's too late for that.

For a moment, she wondered what you would have said if you’d seen the unedited version. Would you have found it ugly? Would you have pitied her? Or would you have admired her for wearing it like the badge of survival it was?

In her dreams, you would have worshiped it.

Before she could send anything else, you decided to take a shot on meeting her in person once again.

@Y/n: I'm sorry, I'll have to suggest. How about this: I'll find the best café within a 10-mile radius, and you can tell me if my photography is as good as my coffee recommendations.

Time passed, and the accusations against Natasha had toned down a bit. Maybe, just maybe, if she's careful enough, she can do this. The first date she'd have in what, a decade?

It was refreshing. And scary. But overall refreshing.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Deal. But I will be the judge in both.

The day and place was decided — it would be in Oslo, downtown — a café, where tons of people would be present. Natasha, growing up, became a master in blending in.

If fate decided to be on her side, this would be one of the best days of her life.

She tossed her phone onto the pillow beside her and laid back, staring at the ceiling. Her fingers brushed the scar again, tracing its jagged edges as if trying to understand its place in this new chapter of her life.

“Not everyone gets to see this side of me,” she murmured to herself.

And for the first time, she wasn’t sure if that was a warning or a promise.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

The café buzzed with the warmth of chatter, the soft clinking of ceramic mugs, and the occasional burst of laughter. It was tucked into a quiet corner of downtown Oslo, a place where the world felt comfortably distant yet close enough for her to disappear if necessary. Hours before, Natasha had dressed herself up — a burgundy dress, black tights, her usual black boots — and her jacket, of course. Her hair was naturally wavy, falling down her shoulders and back — and the makeup was simple. She wasn't a woman for makeup. But this time, she wore red lipstick and the faintest glitter eyeshadow.

She felt like a doll. It was stupid, a thing she liked to imagine how it would feel like back then — in the Red Room, where the girls wore black uniforms — grey sometimes, but always robotic, always calculated. It was a comforting feeling, which made her want to go back in time and tell little Natalia: yes! we are older now, and we are all dolled up for the date of our dreams.

Natasha arrived early — of course she did. She always did. She chose a seat by the window, her back to the wall, a vantage point where she could see everyone coming and going. Her heart wasn’t racing, but there was a slight tension in her chest. She sipped her coffee slowly, the warm bitterness grounding her as she kept an eye on the door. Then, you walked in.

Her doubting thoughts flew away the moment the green eyes landed on you.

She recognized you instantly. Your smile was smaller in person but somewhat warmer, more genuine. You scanned the room briefly before your eyes landed on her, and for a moment, Natasha thought she saw your breath catch. She softly smirks, gaze involuntarily daring.

Come and get me. This? Is all for you.

She shaked that thought away as she watched you approach her table — your clothes, your style, your body language — she scanned it all. The Black Widow wasn't an easy woman to conquer, which made her dump most of the people that tried to hit on her in the past. You were a rare exception, someone who didn't even have to try to make her heart race. It happened in it’s own.

“You made it,” Natasha said, standing to greet you, to give you a quick hug — the subtle press of your body against hers making her skin tingle. Damn it. She adjusted her dress before sitting back down. You did the same, sitting in front of her.

“Of course I did. This date was all I could think about,” you reply, eyes drinking her in, like she was the prettiest woman to exist. She truly was. “No. Let me rephrase. Seeing you was all I could think about.”

Natasha lets out a soft laugh, shifting her gaze towards the floor. She was so pale that the fact that she was blushing was, unfortunately, evident.

“Feels good to finally hear your voice,” she says, resting her chin on her hand as she stares at you. “In person. Not in audio messages or calls.”

After ordering pastries and more coffee for the both of you, the conversation flowed easily, from the usual mundane topics to little jokes that made Natasha chuckle softly. She found herself studying you more and more, the way you gestured when you spoke, the way your eyes lit up when you laughed.

Eventually, the question came.

“So, what’s it like?” you asked, your voice gentle but curious. “Being an Avenger?”

Natasha paused, her fingers brushing the edge of her coffee cup. She had expected this, of course. She knew it would come up. She couldn't simply hide, not when her face had shown up on TV so many times. But if necessary, she would say that this wasn't what she wanted to be anymore. Not with you. She simply wanted to be herself around you, and not the superhero.

She wasn't Natasha who assaulted T'challa. Wasn’t the Sokovia Accords breaker. She hoped you knew by now.

“It’s… complicated,” she said after a moment, her tone measured. “Not as glamorous as it looks on TV, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

You smiled. “I’m sure. But it’s still something, isn’t it? Saving the world, fighting alongside legends.”

A faint, nostalgic smile tugged at her lips. “It was something, yeah. But it wasn’t always about saving the world.” Her gaze softened as she thought back. “There was this time when Tony installed this AI in the kitchen — Friday’s cousin or something — to help us cook. It ended up burning everything it touched. Clint started calling it ‘Flamebot,’ and Steve…” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Steve tried to fix it, of course. Said it was ‘worth saving.’”

You laughed, and Natasha found herself smiling more openly. She was rambling.

“And Thor,” she continued, “he once mistook a microwave for some kind of… magical contraption. He tried to ‘summon its power’ with Mjolnir.”

“Did it work?” you teased.

Natasha smirked. “No, but we had to get a new microwave.”

The nostalgia warmed her, but it also left her feeling melancholic. She missed them. Not the missions or the battles, but the team — the messy, dysfunctional family they had become. You seemed to notice the shift in her mood and didn’t push further. Instead, you leaned in slightly, your voice soft.

“I can tell you miss them,” you said.

Natasha nodded, her walls lowering just a fraction. “Yeah. I do.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, realizing she needed some cheering up. This was supposed to be a happy day, not one to bring up sad memories. So you opened your bag, pulling out of it your camera — which made Natasha's eyes brighten up.

“You brought it!” she exclaims. “I almost forgot that you're a photographer,”

“I thought of the possibility of having to register this moment. And I was absolutely right. You look.. beautiful isn't enough to describe it,” you deeply sigh, as if surrendering to her, to this feeling of being completely in love. “Can I please take a picture of you?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile. “A picture of me?” she asked, her tone teasing. “You know that’s dangerous, right? What if you decide to sell it to the tabloids?”

You laughed softly, looking at her like a lovesick puppy, shaking your head. “I’m not interested in fame, Nat. Just in you.”

That made her pause, her smirk faltering for just a second. It wasn’t often she heard something so direct, so sincere. She tilted her head, studying you with those piercing green eyes, as if trying to gauge if you meant it.

“Alright,” she said finally, leaning back in her chair. “But only if it’s a good angle. No pressure.”

You grinned, lifting the camera and adjusting the settings with practiced ease. “No such thing as a bad angle with you.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, but the blush dusting her cheeks just got worse. She straightened up, her posture relaxed yet commanding, exuding that natural grace and power.

“Like this?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, a hint of amusement in her voice.

You brought your chair closer, lowering the camera for a moment. “No. Don’t pose,” you said quietly. “Just be yourself.”

That caught her off guard. Her brow furrowed slightly, and she shifted in her seat, unsure of what to do with herself for once.

“Be myself, huh?” she murmured.

You nodded, lifting the camera again. “Exactly. I don’t need the Black Widow. I want Nat.”

Her lips parted slightly at your words, and for a fleeting moment, the mask she wore every day seemed to slip. Her shoulders relaxed, her head tilted to the side, and a genuine, very shy smile spread across her face. “I-”

Before she could protest, the shutter clicked, capturing her in that rare, unguarded moment. “Perfect,” you murmured, lowering the camera and meeting her gaze.

Natasha shook her head, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

“Only the good kind,” you replied with a grin, setting the camera down.

She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand again as she studied you. “So, do I get to see it? Or are you keeping me in suspense?”

You turned the camera around, showing her the photo on the screen. Her expression softened as she took it in — the warmth in her eyes, the slight tilt of her head, the way the light framed her face, her rosy cheeks. It wasn’t just a picture. It was a glimpse of who she really was, beyond the layers of secrecy and survival. It was simply her, away from espionage, having coffee with her date.

Her unforgettable trip to Norway.

“It’s… good,” she said quietly, her voice almost hesitant.

“Good?” you ask. “It’s stunning. Just like my model.”

Oh, that…

The way you emphasized the word ‘my’.. the way you were making her feel.. actually precious. She was trapped.

“Alright,” she said, sitting back. “You’ve had your fun. Now tell me, do I at least get a copy?”

You laughed, nodding. “Of course. But only if you promise to go easy on me when I take more later.”

She smirks, her confidence returning. “We’ll see about that.”

As the evening wore, the sky showed a beautiful indigo, stars twinkling just like the sparkles in both of your sets of eyes. Natasha allowed herself to relax. To bask in this kind of normalcy that she never had the chance to experience. She had seen a lot, lived a lot. She knew what people could do in response to fear. She saw war and hatred, she saw coldness and cruelty. But from now on, she could live in a lighter way — like her heart was finally at peace.

“Should we get going?” you asked as the people also started to leave, standing and offering her a hand.

Natasha hesitated for half a second before taking it. Your touch was warm, steady, grounding, and promising. As you stepped outside, the cool air of Oslo wrapped around you. The city lights flickered like stars. Natasha felt a strange sense of calm. When she felt your arm enveloping her shoulders, her breath hitched, but she didn’t let it show — leaning into you gently.

“Where to now?” she asked, glancing at you.

“Well, the hotel, if you’re up for it,” you replied, your tone playful but not pushing.

That playfulness was a disguise for more surprises that awaited her back into the hotel room you were hosted in.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

When you unlocked the door to the hotel you're staying in, Natasha followed you inside, her steps hesitant, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The space was warm and inviting, even if it wasn't a fixed place — especially after knowing you for a good while now — tons of polaroids laying across the bed, portraits, some funko pops that you bought recently. But what caught her attention almost immediately was the bouquet of flowers resting on the counter, tied together with a simple ribbon.

Her brows furrowed slightly as she turned to you, her lips parting in surprise. She didn't even have time to look around the place. “What’s this?” she asked softly, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and vulnerability.

You stepped past her, picking up the bouquet and holding it out to her with a smile. “These are for you,” you said.

Natasha blinked, momentarily stunned. Her fingers brushed against yours as she took the bouquet, her touch delicate, as though the flowers were something precious. She examined them quietly — deep purple irises mingled with soft yellow sunflowers and a few sprigs of white heather.

“So you’re a hopeless romantic.. you didn’t take them to the café. What made you so sure I would come back to your place?”

You shrugged, leaning casually against the counter. “I wasn’t sure,” you admitted, meeting her gaze with an honesty that made her pause. “But I hoped you would. And, well, I wanted them to be a surprise. It felt more personal this way.”

Natasha glanced down at the flowers again, her fingers gently brushing over the petals. “You really thought this through, didn’t you?”

“I thought you were worth the effort,” you said simply, the sincerity in your voice making her blink rapidly, as though she was trying to process it.

Natasha smiled as she shook her head lightly, trying to dismiss the overwhelming feeling creeping up on her. “You’re really something, you know that?”

You chuckled, stepping closer. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She tilted her head, her green eyes studying you with a mixture of curiosity and warmth. “It is,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to,” you interrupted softly, stepping closer. “You deserve something beautiful. Something that shows how incredible you are, even if you can’t always see it yourself.”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. The Avenger, the unshakable spy, was speechless.

Natasha turned to face you fully, the bouquet forgotten for a moment as she searched your face. It was almost desperate, how she tried to find reassurance, anything that told her that her past wasn't a problem. “You… you don’t even know the half of it,” she murmured.

“Maybe not,” you admitted. “But I want to. Every part of it, Nat. I want to know you.”

For a long moment, she just stared at you, as if trying to decide whether she could let her walls down one more time. Talking through an app was easier. In person felt way too serious. And then, with a deep, trembling breath, she set the bouquet back on the table and closed the distance between you.

She walked with determination, her chest lightly touching yours as her hands found their way to the back of your neck. Her fingernails softly scratched in between the hair strands. She didn't know what to say — she didn't want to say anything. In this very second, she simply wanted to feel. Feel what she never had the privilege to feel as the years passed, because yes, this felt like a privilege. She stood on her tiptoes to press herself closer, doe green eyes pleading.

They told you everything, and you didn't need to be passed the message twice. Your right hand cupped her cheek as the left one wrapped around her waist, bringing her even closer.

She was an angel. Not a deadly spy. A sweet angel to be taken care of. To have her needs satisfied and tears wiped away.

As Natasha felt you responding, she allowed her eyes to close.. basking in the darkness, wanting to be enveloped by this only one sensation. This soft, intense sensation of your lips against hers, moving in a way that wasn't rushed, but wasn't too deliberate either — your hands gripping her waist and bunching the fabric of her jacket, maneuvering her back against the counter. Holding onto your shoulders, she sat on the countertop, welcoming your body between her legs. The kiss lasted. She softly whimpered as she felt your tongue brushing against her bottom lip, asking for entrance, for more of her. And she allowed it. Her head tilted to the side, moving in sync with you — as your tongues danced, a dance she hadn’t discovered before.

Needing air, you pull away, foreheads resting against one another as you deeply inhale, messily. It was torture to stop kissing her, she was good. But air was necessary. Calming down, your arms circle her waist. A smile makes its way to your lips as you see the state she was in. Flushed. And…

“I think your lipstick is a little smudged,”

Natasha felt that — every nerve of her skin was burning, including the parts with the messy makeup. She lets out a huff of air and clears her throat, trying to find her voice so she could respond.

“That was…” she whispers, her hands cradling your jaw. “Wow,”

“You are ‘wow’,” you whisper, using your thumb to wipe away the red lipstick from the corners of her lips, fixing it. “You are perfect,”

“I'm not that- I'm not,” she nervously giggled, humming as you finished fixing her up. She shifted on the countertop, her legs pressing around your hips, as if afraid of you leaving.

“I wish I could give you my set of eyes,” your hands travel down to her thighs, feeling the slightly rough fabric of her tights, but that didn't make her skin any less smoother to the touch.

Her dress was basically all the way up her hips at this point, something she hadn't paid the necessary attention to, due being too busy making out with you — and in the pit of her stomach, a small flicker of panic started rising. This was reckless, so reckless. It is not like she didn’t think of the possibility of things escalating while coming back to the hotel with you, but in her head, she would have more control over the situation — and with that, manage to keep her secrets uncovered.

But she didn’t. Her body was reacting in its own and her mind was cloudy. She had zero control.

Before you could even touch the zipper of her dress, Natasha froze. Her breathing hitched — barely noticeable if you weren’t paying attention, but you were. Her hands, which had been so confident just moments ago, trembled as they pressed gently against your chest.

“Wait,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if it might shatter if spoken any louder. “Just.. give me a second,” she muttered, avoiding your gaze as she detangled from your grasp, getting off the counter and hurrying to the bathroom.

The sound of the door clicking shut echoed through the quiet room. Natasha leaned against the sink, gripping its edges so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her reflection stared back at her — flushed cheeks, wide eyes, red marks staining the corners of her lips.

Why did she have to choose a matte lipstick?

Her fingers brushed against her side, over the spot where the bullet scar lay. She had hidden it from you before, in that photo. It had seemed harmless at the time — a small deception to preserve the image of herself she wanted you to see. But now, in the raw intimacy of this moment, it felt like a betrayal.

She turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto her face in an attempt to calm the storm raging inside her. She couldn’t lose this moment — not to her own fears, not to a scar that was just one more piece of her long and painful past. But how could she explain it? How could she show you this part of her without ruining everything?

Natasha pressed her hands to her face, inhaling deeply. It’s just a scar, she told herself. It doesn’t define me. It doesn’t change who I am.

Except that it does. And a small tear rolls down her cheek.

You’re not in the Red Room anymore, she reminded herself, gripping the sink harder. And this person… they’re different. They don’t expect you to be perfect. They just want you.

The doubt, the fears that you managed to keep away from her in the past month, came back to her — only a thousand times more painful.

Regardless, Natasha didn't have any more time to think, before she heard the doorknob turning, the damn door she didn't lock opening. She kept her head low, her body stiff as she continued to hold onto the sink. You could see her reflection in the mirror clearly. The fact that she was silently shedding tears.

“You're crying,” you state quietly, taking baby steps towards her.

“And you're bold,” she chuckles, the sound a mixture of tears and sarcasm. She sniffles, using her arm to wipe her nose. “Entering like that.”

“You're crying.” you shake your head, once again standing face to face with her. You reach out your hands and cup her tear stained cheeks. “What's wrong?”

“I…” she debated what to tell you. That she was afraid of physical intimacy since she was young? Or that she hid a crucial thing about her body all this time? “I don't know-”

“You’re hiding something from me and are afraid I’m gonna hate you?” you inquire, voice serious — not mocking, not pressuring.

What?

Her eyes go wide instantly, the tears stopping. You wipe them away from her cheeks, expression softening again as you prepared to explain yourself. “You’re part of a New Yorker superheroes team. There was absolutely nothing that spoke about your personality in SparkMatch, which is expected, Nat. I’m aware that there’s a lot that I don’t know about you. I know where I’m getting myself into.”

“For the longest time, all I wanted was company. Someone to talk to, to listen to me, and that I could listen to them. Someone to see me,” she quietly confesses, leaning her cheeks into your palms. “You did just that. You’re that person.. you filled a huge void in me. You saved me in more ways that you could ever know.”

“I’m so grateful for that.” you lean closer, pressing a lingering kiss against her forehead. She shyly wrapped her arms around your waist, her eyes searching yours once more.

“It’s not just that…” she adds, her breath hitching. She was now determined to continue from where you left off on the entrance counter. “I longed- I long for.. touches, and..”

“And closeness,” you complete, head dipping down and tucking itself into the crook of her neck. “Geez, you smell delicious,”

“It’s… Twilly D’Hermès,” breathless, Natasha speaks, a small hint of pride in her tone as she spoke about her moisturizing cream. “My body lotion,”

It wasn’t cheap, but she liked to spoil herself sometimes. It was also great to deal with the constant bruises and cuts on her skin. Your brows raise in surprise, an incredulous laugh escaping your lips. Natasha could feel the warmth of your breath on her neck, a surge of happiness and ecstasy washing over her.

“That’s.. pretty luxurious, one can say.”

“Can’t a woman spoil herself sometimes?” she retorts — interrupted by a gasp that left her as your lips pressed against her neck. Her eyes flutter shut, her hands holding onto your arms as she did her best to keep talking. “B-Besides, years of bruises and burns require good skincare.”

“I see,” you hum, nuzzling into her, into the spot behind her ear. She felt soft today. Now you knew the reason. After staying like that for a while, you pull back, looking into her eyes with a gaze that showed admiration, respect and concern towards her comfort. “Can I?”

She deeply inhales, feeling you reach for her dress again — only more mindfully now. Shrugging her jacket off her shoulders, she places it next to her on the sink and nods.

She was prepared for the question.

“Okay, hold on.” you kneel down, beginning to untie her boots, catching her by surprise. You remove them and place them aside, before slowly pulling down her tights. “Damn. Why did you have to wear something so complicated?”

“I wanted to feel beautiful,” she quietly chuckles, allowing you to get rid of the excessive fabric on her body.

So, it's time for the dress. You got up to your feet and slid your palm up her spine, holding onto the zipper and then pulling it down. Natasha was expectant, self aware, but mainly, consumed by her desire — finally awake again.

“I'll make you feel beautiful,” you nod, pushing the dress straps off her shoulders and sliding them down her arms.

“You already do.” She breathes.

She doesn't stop you from getting her off the dress. But when it stops below her hips, she tenses up. That's because she sees you freezing. To look at her. It's strange, to have someone look at her body with no apparent emotion. You didn't look at her as if she were a prize to win — an object, or a weapon. Helping her step off the dress, you toss it aside on the floor. Now nothing was disturbing you from taking her in. Her black underwear. Her toned muscles — which you assumed were from years of workout. And her scars. Cuts, a few small keloids, and the bullet scar.

“You didn’t have to hide this from me.” you breathe, dropping to your knees once more as you held her by the hips. She found herself leaning against the sink’s counter, breathing ragged, every nerve of her body buzzing in anticipation. “Makes you even more gorgeous.”

“I—”

“You're fucking gorgeous.” you hiss, kissing above the place that once had a bullet in.

Yup. Her dreams came true.

“Please,” she murmurs, not knowing how to vocalize what she wanted. But the heat pooling between her thighs told you everything.

Your lips make a path from her hip down to her pelvic bone, right hand grabbing her thigh and putting it on your shoulder — coaxing a gasp out of her. Your palm covers her scar, as though it were something precious about herself — making her feel safe, above everything. Natasha, for a moment, almost lost her balance — having to hold her weight with one foot — as your pointer finger hooked around the soaked fabric of her panties, pulling it to the side. You gave her one look. One look before diving in.

You are no longer alone.

She took the message. And her world exploded.

Your tongue working on her — licking past her folds, tasting her — as if committing to memory, and not just using her — her slender fingers tangling into your hair, pulling your head closer to her core, soft moans leaving her mouth as if there was no tomorrow.

“Yes,” She gasps, her hips bucking, seeking more of the kitten licks you showered her clitoris with. “Don't stop.”

None of her sexual experiences had been good in the past — not in the slightest. So having something so good, so pleasuring — it was truly her first.

In the Norwegian hotel, Natasha was more Avenged than she ever was with the Avengers. In the end of the night, she ended up with you on the bed — your clothes making each other company on the floor, as she lost herself — in your body, your scent, your hands on her,

and your love for her.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

You were tucked under the covers when the bathroom's door opened — the hot steam of her recent shower now dispersing and mingling with the air. You sat up, leaning against the headboard as you watched her with a smile.

Natasha walked towards you, the white hotel's towel in her hands, drying her damp hair. She was wearing a t-shirt you lent her, which was probably three times her size. She was smiling. Happily.

Before climbing back onto the bed, she absentmindedly placed the wet towel on an armchair. She gently settled onto your lap, straddling your hips, her head instantly nesting on your shoulder.

“Hi, baby.” you embrace her.

“If I have to leave the country, for any reasons,” she says, her hands tracing random patterns on your back. “Will you come with me?”

“I'll go anywhere with you.” you reply, voice unwavering.

She released the air she didn't know she was holding, and allows herself to relax her sore body. She nuzzled closer as you played with her still damp hair.

Maybe dating apps weren't so bad, after all. If she ever saw her team or Tony again, she would thank him for making her install it.

“Oh, and by the way,”

Natasha whispers, finally. Probably, you were aware. But it was one more thing about her true self she wanted you to know.

“My name is Natalia.”

[natbelovasblog]

NATTY HEAD-CANNONS!

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff + Fem!Reader mentions!

SUMMARY: Just some little cute things I can totally see nat doing.

WARNINGS: Softy nat. That’s it.

A/N: Everyone sees her differently, but these are some things that I think it would be like dating Natasha! P.S.! This is my first post of mine on here. I hope you guys like it! Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

Natasha was very anxious for you to meet her family. The avengers: because they can be a little too pushy and irritating. Especially when your new to the team. Always talking and asking you questions. They can be very overstimulating when you don’t wanna be bothered.

As well as her adoptive family: Yelena, because she’s very much like Natasha herself. Protective. Very very protective. She was scared that Yelena wouldn’t like you, even though there is nothing to not like. She just hoped Yelena would, because her sisters approval means everything to her. Luckily It all went well…Yelena is so obsessed with you. She’s your best friend. She mainly is your best-friend because you make her food. Aka mac and cheese.

Alexei, he’s such a irritable human being, Natasha loves him dearly. But she also is aware he can be too much, as well as embarrassing. Especially with childhood stories.

Melina, She was less nervous about her mom over all of them. Melina is very supportive but she can also be to out-loud if she doesn’t like something. Saying it without a care in the world. So she was nervous Melina would say something rude to you without even noticing.

Natasha is very big on touch, it’s her love language. As well as acts of service and words of affirmation. She loves telling you how much you mean to her while staring into your eyes, and then kissing you deeply. She also is obsessed with getting you things you need. Especially when you’re on your period. She loves going out and buying you what you need- including chocolates, teas and anything or any food that “helps with the pain.” She’ll get you anything you want. Just say the word.

Natasha is a total nerd- no matter what anyone says. She loves re-watching all her favorite movies and saying all the lines. It’s gotten so bad to the point she has to lie to you and say she hasn’t watched the movie yet when she most definitely has, just so you’ll watch it with her. Then a couple minutes in, you’ll hear her silently mumbling the words while mindlessly playing in your hair. Safe to say you scare the shit out of her when you call her out for lying.

Natasha is a terrible cook but she really does try. And not because she needs to please anyone. Not because she needs to prove anything. But just because she wants to. She’s always trying to help people in the kitchen. She loves watching other people cook and loves watching cooking shows. So imagining herself being able to do it is definitely a goal of hers!

Natasha never gets drunk while with you, even if you tell her it’s okay, she refuses. She’ll get a tiny bit tipsy but that’s as far as she’ll go. She always wants to be in her right mind while around you, so she can protect you. The only time she’ll get drunk is when Yelena is with the both of you, and agrees to stay sober, because she knows Yelena will protect you with her life as well.

Natasha’s favorite season out of them all is definitely fall!! She lovesss being able to just cuddle under the covers without being to hot- or too cold. But perfectly content. Plus she loves taking photos of all the pretty leaves and trees- being the nerd she is.

She fiddles with your hands a lot, 9/10 times in the conference room she’ll grab your hand, just mindlessly playing with your rings or putting her rings on your hands to play with if you don’t have any on. Just randomly outlining the creases in your hands or massaging them.

She’s always chewing gum or biting her cheek when she’s nervous or stressed. Just something to keep her mouth busy. Most of the time she’ll just walk up to you and randomly bite your thigh when your reading- as a means to distract her mouth.

She yankes the covers off of you at night- even if she doesn’t mean too. Then when she wakes up in the morning, she covers you up, wondering why you’re never covered up in the mornings.

She’s so so so fucking stubborn. You will not and can not tell this woman anything. It goes in one ear and right out the other, especially if she knows it’s something she’s not supposed to do.

Natasha is not much for PDA, but boy oh boy when you kiss her in public or put your hand on her thigh, she can’t stop the flustered look and cherry red blush from covering her face, and you live for it.

Natasha always pampers you and gives you anything you want or need. Even when you don’t know you want or need something, she does- and immediately gets it for you.

She is a huge coffee addict. It doesn’t matter what time of the day it is- she will have her coffee, when she wants it and exactly how she wants it.

Natasha is very private and sensitive about your shared relationship around her family and friends, but by no means is it a secret.

When you two are in public, she is always holding your hand, belt loop, jacket or she’s either checking around every corner and rooftop. Making sure your safe at all times.

When Natasha used to have nightmares, she would walk down to the kitchen and fix herself some coffee, nervous to wake you up with her yelps and movements if she had fallen back asleep, fallen back into her nightmare. That was used to, when you had first starting sleeping in the same room. But now, she cuddles even closer to you, sometimes even waking you up with a soft “baby” just so she knows that she’s safe as you comfort her. Telling her that your proud of her for waking you up.

Natasha never yells durning fights or disagreements. Her voice may get a little loud, and she may even shout a bit, but she never ever yells. She tells you she’ll be back and goes for walks, or car rides to calm down. Then comes back, hugs and kisses you and sits you down for a talk.

She’s OBSESSED with animals. Cats specifically. She always says she doesn’t like them, trying to be mysterious and different, but in reality you see the little pout come upon her face every time you two see a stray animal or kitten on the street.

[bagdaddyb]

Nursery

Summary: You shop for the last item you need in your nursery with your wife.

Pairing: fem!Reader x g!pNatasha

Warnings: None, this is pure fluffy fluffy just a short snippet because I'm feeling soft.

AN: If you're with someone long term, intentions of meeting family and maybe taking it to the next level. And them and their family speak another language at home. Learn that language don't be a dumb American. English is a dumb hard language. Don't assume others speak it take the steps so that you can communicate with them.

You rubbed the swell of your stomach as you walked around the store. The comforting motion having become a habit since you began your third trimester. Your baby was restless as your due date neared and now with just three short weeks left of pregnancy you found yourself eagerly awaiting your childs birth. You couldn't wait to meet the baby you'd grown inside you but you also couldn't wait for your back to have a break and to say a sentence without running out of breath. You stopped in front of a comfortable looking recliner, it was a sage green which would go perfectly with your gender neutral nursery. The gender of your baby to be a surprise per Natasha's request. The chair looked comfortable and you honestly couldn't think of anything better than sitting down. Turning the chair to look at the price you nod while contemplating. Sitting in the chair you let go of an audible sigh your swollen feet thanking you for giving them a break as you visibly relax into the chair your wife who'd stopped when she noticed you hesitating giggles.

"Comfortable lyubov?"

You hum in response hands never leaving your stomach.

"Eto prekrasno, vam ne kazhetsya?" (It's perfect, don't you think?)

Natasha smiles wide at you with those mushy eyes she's had since the first day of your pregnancy.

"Yes it would go great in the corner by the window."

You nod in agreement. Letting out a grunt as you stand Natasha's hand flies to your lower back rubbing in soothing motions as you continue to regard the chair.

"Lets get it."

You decide and Natasha nods eager to fulfill your every wish. After purchasing the chair Natasha loads it into your truck before driving home. You feel bad as Natasha single handedly works the chair in the house but anytime you try to help you are quickly swatted away. Once the chair is inside the nursery you smile happily. The green matching perfectly with the rest of the room. In an instant tears are in your eyes coming down your cheeks in a stream you can't control.

"Stupid hormones."

You grumble as you wipe your face. Natasha smiles kissing your cheeks before placing a light kiss on your lips wrapping her arms around you. You wrap your arms around her neck hand running in her hair as you smile.

"It's beautiful lyubov, I can't wait for this next chapter with you."

Natasha whispers while leaning her forehead against yours.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?"

You respond embracing this moment. Thanking the universe for the being that is Natasha Romanoff.

"Spill a drink on me while drunk at a bar in New York."

You laugh loudly as Natasha reminds you of how you two met. Not one of your shining moments.

"Mmmmh best girls trip ever."

You kiss Natashs again on the lips softly.

"I love you so much Natasha."

"YA tozhe tebya lyublyu." (I love you too)

[dontsearchformyaccount]

Nat: you want a peanut butter sandwich ?

Y/n: i can't, i am allergic:/

*later that day *

Y/n: in fact ,i am not allergic to peanuts, but i would rather die ,than telling Natasha that peanuts taste like dirth. I do love watching her eat .She looks adorable.

[natashascumslut]

You are you. - natasha romanoff

Summary: Natasha doesn’t believe she’s her own person, so Y/n reminds her she is.

Warnings: Angst?? i guess, sad Natasha, mentions of the Red Room.

a/n: i apologise if this is short and bad 😭 i wrote it on a walk like 20 minutes ago lmfao

You and Natasha where currently in the lounge of the avengers compound, it was very late. Neither of you knew why you were still up, but it seemed to be a common occurrence.

You waddled into the room with two glasses of water placed firmly in your hands, but as you glanced over at Natasha you felt something was off. She was staring off into the distance, and the glow that was in her eyes when you left the room had gone. You frowned.

“What’s wrong, natty?” You asked as you put the water down on the coffee table and sat down next to her.

She came out of her trance and her once glassy eyes met yours with a blank expression, and when she smiled, it didn’t reach them.

“Nothing.” She hummed, you raised an eyebrow at her. “Nat.” She looked away from you, avoiding your gaze.

“I just..” She paused, seeming unable to get the words out. You reached forward and took her hand, holding it reassuringly.

She let out a deep breath. “I’m not me. I’ll never be me. I’ll always be a product of the red room, i’ll never be a genuine person. Everything i am, came from there.”

You frowned, you knew that wasn’t true, everyone that knew Natasha knew that was not true. “That’s not true.” You said, but you knew she didn’t believe you.

“It is. Everything i am, an assassin, my ‘best’ features; bravery, willingness to fight, lack of fear. It comes from there.” She said as she looked away from you. You brought a soft hand to her cheek, gently moving her face so she was looking at you.

“That is not true.” You said, it was genuine. “You know what i think?” You asked as your thumb ran up and down on her cheek, she shook her head gently.

“I think all of that came from your mother, your bravery, your passion, your love. Every plus and every flaw. You’re a strong woman, Natasha. You’re still here, which is something not a lot of people in your situation would be able to achieve. You didn’t get the way you love from the red room, nor the way you stand up to every challenge. You are not the red room, Natasha. You are you.”

You said, you meant every word.

Her eyes became glassy again, expect this time it was from tears. She took a shaky breath in before speaking. “You really think so?” Her voice was quiet; weak. You nodded, “I really do.”

She moved forward, leaning into you. You held her as she cuddled up to you, her knees moving up to her chest.

“I love you, Natasha. All of you.” You hummed against her hair, kissing atop of it. All you got back was a weak sob, but that’s all you needed.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Kinktober (17)- Lingerie

Natasha X G!p Reader 18+

Summary: After a bad day at work, your wife finds the best way to satisfy you.

Warnings/Tags: Reader has a Penis, Blowjobs, Handjobs, Multiple Orgasms, Dirty Talk, Multiple Creampies, Oral Sex, Fingering, Rough Sex, Breeding Kink, Switch Reader/Switch Natasha.

Kinktober Masterlist

Closing the door harder than you intended, you sighed to yourself in annoyance, shrugging your suit jacket off and carelessly flinging it on the table as you dragged yourself into your living room, flopping on the couch. Memories of today’s diabolical meeting flooded through your mind as you unbuttoned the top button of your shirt, the fabric tight and uncomfortable on your neck, adding to your displeased mood as you became aware of the lack of noise in your apartment, listening out intently for your wife.

“Nat?” You called out, voice calmer and gentler than the one you used earlier in the meeting, the mere reminder of it making your brows furrow at how stupid your workers could possibly be, hands busy untying your laces as she appears from behind the bedroom door, eyes solely focussed on you.

“Hey Detka,” she purrs out sultrily, your head snapping up at the sound of her voice, eyes widening and jaw slacking at the goddess that stood before you that you somehow managed to call your wife.

Black lace adorned her body in the most alluring and enticing manner, the fabric teasingly covering her breasts as the soft flesh peeked over the top, your rapidly darkening eyes travelling further down her body, across her beautiful curves, her toned stomach, her core that was scandalously covered up by the smallest piece of lace possible, a small groan leaving you at the barely visible wet spot already there. Thigh high stockings complimented the lingerie she was wearing, the image of her swaying her hips as she casually sauntered closer to you causing your pants to feel a lot tighter, eyes unable to choose where to admire as she stood right before you.

“Fuck, Nat,” you managed to groan in appreciation, hands reaching out for her soft curves only to be stopped, her hands wrapping around your wrists and pinning them to the back of the sofa, her body towering over yours as she smirked down at you, your mind clouded with arousal at the sight of her.

“Keep them there for me Detka,” she whispers out, her mouth lowering in a teasing manner, lips ghosting yours as your eyes drift to her plump lips, enchanted by the way her tongue swipes across her bottom one to wet it. Your head tilts to try and chase her lips but she cruelly pulls back, her eyes matching your lust-filled ones as she takes in your outfit, her eyes landing on the large bulge in your pants. “All this for me?” she whispers teasingly, her hands palming your cock through your pants, able to feel how hard and desperate you already were for her.

“Always for you,” you sigh out in a pleased tone, her hand briefly wrapping around you and jerking softly. “Please,” you practically whimper when she teases your mouth again with her addictive lips, your mind begging for her to press them against you, not bothered where. You just needed to feel her.

“Already begging,” she teases in an affected whisper, tauntingly placing a kiss to the underside of your jaw, lipstick marking the skin before slowly unbuttoning your shirt, leaving a trail of lipstick smudges as she kisses her way down your toned body. “Don’t worry Detka, I’ll take care of you,” she murmurs, finally dropping her knees between your legs, admiring her work as your chest rises and falls with laboured breaths, mind completely fogged with arousal as she stares up at you with that sultry smirk that drives you insane. “And your needs,” her voice a mere whisper as she presses a kiss to the band of your underwear, a sharp intake of breath leaving you at the feeling of her hands unzipping your pants and her hungry gaze.

“Love,” you sigh out the endearment as she successfully gets you out of your pants and underwear, her hands wrapping around you, able to feel how you were throbbing for her. She watches hungrily as your head lolls back at the feeling of her hand gliding up and down you, your hips bucking slightly when she runs her finger from the base to the tip, lips ghosting your head. “I need you, please,” your tone a desperate plea, head tilting to look down at her with a submissive look as you let her control you for now, needing to feel some sort of release and satisfaction after today. You could take your frustrations out later.

Giving you what you want, her lips wrap around your cock, the warmth and wetness of her mouth having you groan sensually at the pleasure that coursed through your veins, hands itching to thread through her silky, red locks, desperate to guide her head up and down your length. Her emerald eyes peer up at you sinfully, hips bucking as she takes you all the way down her throat, her hand going to your balls and massaging them expertly, knowing exactly how to please you. Your moans grow slightly louder when she bobs her head faster up and down you, the feeling of her tongue swirling around your tip and her moaning around you causing you to jerk your hips up harder, making her gag slightly, not that she minded.

At the sound of your low groan, she pulls her mouth off you for the moment, moving her hands to slide up and down your cock, lips pressing a lewd kiss to your tip. You can’t help but stare down in pure desire as she licks from the base to the tip of you, eyes trained on you as she effortlessly takes all of you down her throat again, gagging once again at the size of you.

“Nat,” you plead, fingers moving to grip the edge of the sofa, knuckles bleeding white with how amazing the feeling of her mouth felt on you, thoughts filled with only her.

“What’s wrong Detka?” she innocently murmurs, slightly panting for breath, her tone a clear contrast between her actions as she looks up at you, tongue licking a stripe up your cock. At the action, precum spills out of your tip, her finger deftly gathering it and sliding into her mouth, a small, sinful moan escaping her at the taste of you.

“Love-fuck,” your words are cut off with a sudden moan, her lips wrapping around your head, cheeks hollowing while her hand expertly slides up and down you mercilessly, wanting to have you teetering on edge. “Nat- God, I’m going to come if you keep doing that,” your voice laced with desperation as you stare down at her, begging her with your eyes.

“You wanna come in my mouth Detka?” she asks lewdly, licking the small bits of precum that continues to leak out of your tip, observing how you nod frantically, hips bucking into her hand and mouth to chase your release. You groan at her dirty words, her body suddenly standing, her mouth at the shell of your ear to add to her words, “What if I want you to fill me up? I need to feel your cum inside me Detka.” You groan once again, hips bucking up harder, your orgasm about to crash over you as you peer up into her darkened eyes, head tilting to ghost her lips.

“I’ll do both,” your tone cocky and matching of your more dominant side, the redhead smirking at your words as she places another kiss to your jaw, teeth nibbling gently as she feels your hips stuttering into her hand.

“That better be a promise,” she warns, desperately needing to feel you come inside her, to fill her up and watch as it drips out of her slowly. Her body swiftly and seductively drops back to the floor, her lips kissing your tip once more, eyes watching yours roll back. “Come on Detka, come for me,” she husks out, taking you down her throat once more and bobbing her head, tongue swirling over your sensitive head and hand squeezing your balls gently, pleasure crashing through you.

Your hands reach out to her hair, holding her close as spurts of the warm, white liquid fill her mouth, a string of moans leaving you as you come down her throat, emptying into her while your hips jerk up as you ride out your aftershocks. You pant as you try to recover from your mind-blowing orgasm, chest heaving as she releases you from her mouth, swallowing your load and moaning lowly at the taste, eyes on your blissed out state. Her finger moves to swipe the little that escaped her mouth, sliding it back in and making a show of the action to make your hands thread through her hair and guide her up off the floor to straddle your lap, mouth crashing to hers.

It was messy, desperate and passionate as you poured all your love for her into the kiss, showing your wife the appreciation she deserves, hands roaming the body you're addicted to. You groan into the kiss when her teeth bite down on your lower lip, her smiling into the next kiss as you flip the two of you over on the sofa, pressing her into the soft cushions.

“Shit Detka, you feel so good,” she moans when you grind your hips into her, her hands shrugging your shirt off your shoulders, carelessly throwing it somewhere in the room, legs wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. You grind your hips into her harder, knowing just how she likes it while your lips press teasingly along her jaw and the underside of her jaw, soft sighs leaving her. Fuck, she loved how you could so easily switch between being submissive and dominant.

“I’m going to make you scream for me, Nat,” you groan against her warm skin, eyes peering up at her as you thrust your hips against her, cock rubbing against her soaked panties perfectly, her head lolling back at the pleasure. She smirks at your cocky words, knowing full well that you can fulfil them, your lips marking her neck as your hands trails down her body, fingers reaching her lace panties.

“Detka,” she groans at the sound of fabric tearing, your eyes trained on her face as your mouth moves to kiss the top of her breasts, fingers sliding through her dripping folds.

“All this for me?” you mock her earlier words, moving your thumb to circle her clit while you effortlessly slide a finger into her, needing to stretch her out. She lets out a breathless laugh at your words, moaning quietly after it as you curl your fingers at just the right spot, her back arching off the sofa and into your body. “So wet, so desperate. Fuck, love, you’re ruining me,” you groan against her, moving back up her body to claim her lips hungrily, swallowing her moans as you thrust another finger into her, curling them both at her g-spot while your thumb continues to rub her clit expertly.

Her hands leave your back and thread through your hair, tongue sliding into your mouth to regain some sort of control as you drive her closer to her orgasm, not wanting to come so soon and seem that desperate for you.

Knowing how close she is by the way she clenches around you, your grin into the kiss, knowing how she loves and hates the fact that you can make her come so quick,

“Just lose control, love, I know you want to come all over my fingers,” you rasp out against her lips before crashing them back together messily, groaning at the feeling of her hips grinding against your hand, chasing her high.

“Detka, Fuck,” she moans out before throwing her head back, her orgasm powerfully crashing over her as her hips ride your fingers desperately, come coating your fingers as she rides out of her high, your lips attached to her neck as she couldn’t kiss you back.

You softly coax her back to reality with softer kisses, your eyes raking over her euphoric state as you admire her. Such a pretty mess you think as her eyes flutter open, that signature smirk returning as she reaches her hand down, jerking you off once more and signalling for you to fuck her.

“I need you Detka,” she purrs at the shell of your ear, teeth nibbling on your earlobe before laying back down, your lips chasing hers as you take a hold of your cock and position it at her entrance. Teasingly, you rub your tip against her clit, then down to her entrance to coat it in the abundance of arousal pooled between her legs, her legs wrapped around your waist again and pulling you closer making you slide it into her.

Both of you groan into the other's mouth at the feeling, her heavenly cunt making you delirious with pleasure, her warm and wet walls clenching around you perfectly as she moans at the feeling of being filled up and stretched out, her nails digging into your back.

“Don’t be gentle with me Detka. Fuck me. Hard,” you can’t help but groan into her mouth at the filth that came out of her mouth, sliding out of her until only the tip remained in before thrusting your hips into her, giving her exactly what she wanted. You snap your hips into her, feeling her walls clench around your cock to make you pant against her mouth, eyes looking down to watch as her cunt swallows your length up greedily.

“Love, you feel so good, so good,” you murmur against her, hips merciless as you pound her into the sofa, the lewd sounds of moans and skin slapping sounding around the room. To reach even deeper inside her, you lift one of her legs slightly, allowing you to thrust into her so you were hitting her sweet spot with every thrust, a sinful moan leaving her.

“Shit, Faster Detka, Harder,” she moans out, a hint of desperation in her voice as she nears her second orgasm, your hips driving into her. Your pace increases as she commands, relentless as her moans grow louder and louder, her hips moving in time with yours as both of you start to teeter on edge.

Your fingers dig in slightly at her thigh, Natasha knowing there were going to be marks there making her even wetter, clenching around you at the moans that escape you, mouths still hungrily meeting in a passionate kiss.

When she clenches around you again, you can’t stop the desperate noise that escapes you, Natasha knowing how close you were at the way your hips started to thrust even faster, her mind clouded with pleasure at the feeling of you inside her.

“Come in me Detka, Please come in me,” she moans against your lips as she tries to hold off her orgasm until you come, wanting to feel that added pleasure of coming at the same time as you.

“Nat,” you groan at her words, lips meeting hers as your orgasm inevitably crashes through you, thick spurts of cum filling her up as your hips stutter into her, pressing her even further into the sofa as her own orgasm courses through her. A scream leaves her as the pure euphoria that floods through her body, taking over all her senses as all she can feel is pleasure, your name falling off her lips in a sigh as you slow down your thrusts, still emptying into her.

Once you’re finished coming, Natasha expects you to pull out but moans in surprise when you thrust your hips back into her slowly, panting heavily as you still remain hard inside her.

“One more, Please,” you groan against her, eyes peering into hers with a pure lust as you grind your hips against her, still deep inside her, your cock covered in your cum and hers.

“Give me one more,” she whispers in an equally affected tone, her hips grinding in time with yours, this time slower as you both chase another high. Your lips meet hers slower, your hips thrusting slow and deep inside her as her nails scratch down your back, pleasure building in both of your cores as your hand reaches for hers, interlocking your fingers. “Detka,” Natasha moans out sensually as you both fall over the edge again, more come filling her up as you empty into her again, her orgasm taking over her once again as you both collapse into each other, your head resting against her shoulder as her fingers return to your hair, fingers scratching your scalp.

It takes you a moment for both of you to recover, your lips meeting hers softly, intimately as you convey your love silently, her smiling into the kiss as you eventually pull out of her, watching as cum slowly seeps out of her. You watch mesmerised when her finger slides it back into her as she chuckles at your small groan and the way your cock twitches, eyes flickering back up to her.

“Bedroom?” you ask, her shaking her head playfully at your antics, your arms wrapping around her body and lifting her off the sofa when she nods, knowing that the two of you were in for a long night. 

[olsenmyolsen]

Ups and Downs The Final Part

master list

dark master list

Slight MCU AU (Female Reader X Natasha Romanoff)

Be sure to read part one! . And Part Two!

Summary: You finally take Natasha on a date!

Word Count: 4.6K

TW: None, Pure Fluff with some mentions of Yelena. <3

You stood in front of Natasha's door with a bouquet of roses in your hands.

It was officially the first Friday since being discharged from the Avengers medical wing, and you wanted to be Natasha's woman in shining armor.

Even though she literally saved your life after being shot when mercenaries busted their way into her safe house apartment, so there was no way you'd ever outshine The Black Widow- ya know what, that doesn't matter!

Here you stood in front of Natasha's door! At Avengers Campus! Feet firmly planted! Flowy red sundress flowing! A fist raised to the door, and just as it was about to make contact, it flung open.

Your right hand flew through the open air before falling by your side. "Huh?" Your eyes went from your hand to the woman who opened the door.

Natasha smirked with painted red lips as her green eyes looked you up and down. The bruising was no longer visible on your exposed skin, but that's not why Natasha was looking at the way your sundress stopped just 4 inches above the knee.

You watched the way her green eyes lifted to you. Making eye contact before they lowered back down. "Are these for me?" Natasha stepped forward and grabbed the bouquet of flowers from your hand. The contact your fingertips made was electric for you both.

Your brain immediately flat-lined.

"I-uh- yeah!" You let Natasha take the bouquet as she smiled at how you fumbled with your words. "I figured we've already lived through a couple of cliches, so what's one more?!" You moved back and forth on your feet as Natasha examined the flowers. "I hope you like them." Natasha looked at you. "Captain- Steve- uh, mentioned how you like Roses." Natasha looked down at her hands, and a quizzical look turned into a smile that broke into laughter.

You smiled and laughed, too, but you weren't sure why. But if Natasha was smiling because of something you did, you'd count that as a win.

"These are Carnations." Natasha finally said.

"What is that now?" You asked as you took a step forward into Natasha's space. Tip-toeing around the flirty line, you two have been playing since waking up here.

"These aren't Roses. They're Carnations. They look very similar." You took a closer look, but flowers looked like flowers, so you just nodded and took the Up (Going on a date with Natasha) with the Down (Getting her the wrong type of flowers).

"Don't worry," Natasha said as she bumped your shoulder and smiled. "I love them." You smiled and rolled your eyes. "Who said I was worried, Natasha?" The redhead threw an eyebrow and looked at you as she closed her bedroom door. "Hmm." She hummed. "Tell that to the corners of your mouth." Natasha then mocked you as she made a pouty face before laughing as you tried to look away. But you wore a big smile.

"Come on," Natasha said with glee as her hand wrapped around yours. Not letting go until the two of you reached the kitchen.

"I'll put these in a vase, and then we'll go." You nodded to her words and watched the way Natasha filled out her black jeans as she walked away with an extra oomph on her step.

This date was something the two of you wanted, and Natasha couldn't wait.

She was going to tease you all night.

"Take a picture. It'll last longer." You jumped to the sound of a man in your ear. Turning to your left to see Clint Barton smiling from catching you in the act. You swung your arm down and made contact with his. "Don't you have anything better to do?" You yelled at the older man in a hushed tone.

He shrugged.

"Not a lot at the moment. So where are you taking her?" Clint held his fork up to his mouth and blew on his noodles to cool them down.

"That information is for Natasha only." You whispered to Clint as if Natasha couldn't hear you.

But she could. If there's one thing Natasha has learned about you since moving in. You think you know how to whisper, and you definitely don't realize how loud your footsteps are. Twice now, Natasha has woken up to the sounds of you getting a late-night snack.

To your knowledge, it had been one time that Natasha woke up. That was when she joined you in your room to watch re-runs of The Nanny.

You fell asleep with your head on her shoulder.

Natasha turned red when it happened. Because she officially knew what she had been thinking this whole time.

She was falling for you.

"Boring," Clint said as he put a fork full of noodles in his mouth and walked away. The conversation no longer fun to him.

Natasha held in a smile and presented you with the vase full of carnations.

"What do you think?"

You smiled and kept your eyes on Natasha. "I think you look beautiful." Natasha rolled her eyes, which made you laugh. "Come on. I told you that if we started dating, it would only get worse." Natasha nodded and placed the vase in the middle of the table. "Well, don't run before you can walk." Natasha sent you a wink as she stuck out her hand. "And is it dating if it's only the one so far?" You smiled and took hers in yours. "Years from now, you'll laugh about this, Natasha." You said with smug written all over your face.

Your cheesiness makes Natasha think back to the apartment weeks ago.

"So, which car is Stark letting you borrow?"

"Oh, I was supposed to ask?" You said as you and the redhead entered the garage. Natasha turned her head and couldn't tell if you were joking until your lips cracked. "Any of them, he said."

"Generous." She lifted her eyebrows as you two walked past rows of luxury cars.

"Yeah..." You said as Natasha started walking towards the motorcycles. One in particular. "I feel like Tin Man was threatened by a hot spy."

Natasha stopped in front of a black Harley Davidson with a red leather seat and orange accents and details. "Hot spy, huh?" You nodded. "Red hair. You wouldn't know her." Natasha playfully rolled her eyes and turned back to the bike. "What do you think?" She asked as you took a step forward. "I didn't think Tony drove this."

Natasha lifted the pillion seat and pulled out a set of keys. Tossing them to you. "He doesn't." You caught the keys and looked back to Natasha as she leaned against the bike with a tight-lipped smile as her tongue rolled over her teeth.

Fuck, you were starting to get hungry, and it wasn't food calling your name.

"Wanna try it?" She asked as she grabbed a red helmet from behind her, waiting for your answer. "Nat, you can't be serious!" Natasha pulled her body away from the bike and walked towards you before she placed the helmet in your hands. "I mean, you can always say no," Natasha said as she looked at you with a confident smile and glimmer in her eyes.

She had you.

You looked from the helmet back to Natasha. "Promise to help?"

Natasha placed her hands on your hips and leaned closer. You inhaled sharply from her touch. Her perfume worked its way through your nose, making you smile. "I'll make sure we don't crash." Natasha kissed your cheek and left you blushing as she picked up the helmet and placed it on your head. "Ready?" You nodded as Natasha pushed the helmet down onto your face. Only your eyes are the thing Natasha sees.

She grabbed your hand and led you to the bike. Natasha watched how you wrapped your legs around the seat. "I'm starting to think maybe a dress wasn't the best idea." You said as your voice was muffled by the helmet.

Natasha smirked and looked at the way your dress rode up. Revealing more thigh from you. Your soft skin against the leather seat was doing wonders for Natasha. "Trust me." Natasha started as she grabbed a helmet from the bike beside her and put it on. "You'll be fine. I'll keep you warm."

You understood the double entendre and couldn't help but blush once again. Natasha wasn't holding back tonight, and for someone who was usually spouting flirty attempts, it left you worried that your cheeks would always be stuck in a giggly smile.

Natasha sat on the seat and let her black jeans brush against your legs. "Put the key here." Her hands worked down your arms and rested on top of your own hands. You nodded and placed the tiny key in the ignition. "Hit this button to turn it on." Natasha pointed to a red button in the center of the handlebars. "Once you do that. This is the accelerator. This is the brake." Natasha showed you how to use each one while her hands never left your body.

"Okay." You sighed as the idea of driving this without thinking about the vibrations and Natasha gripping your body was going to make you crazy.

"Ready?" Natasha asked as her hand was above the red button. "I.. I think so." You said. "Y/N." You turned your head back. "Don't worry. I'll be here." You could see the way Natasha's cheeks lifted below her green eyes. She was smiling to you and giving you reassurance.

You nodded.

"I'm ready." Natasha hit the red button and laid her hands on yours. "Good girl." You heard her yell as she traced a birthmark on your middle finger.

You bit your lip. "Okay." You thought to yourself. "If teasing is what she wants." You could do this.

You kicked the leg stand up, and turned the accelerator, forcing Natasha to grip her body around yours at the sudden acceleration. "Good girl!" You yelled back, making Natasha scoff with surprise as you picked up the speed right before the two of you left the garage and hit the main road.

You felt free with Natasha Romanoff as the noise of the bike engine roared while her hands moved up from yours to around your waist. She was gripping you tighter.

Natasha was in awe of your quick ability to handle the bike due to every clumsy spill of water or untied shoelace you've had since meeting her.

But you surprised her.

Natasha even caught the wink you sent her from the side mirror as you turned the bike onto the exit for the city.

She had no idea where you were taking her, but she couldn't wait to find out. _

The lights of New York City passed over your helmets as you turned the bike down a one-way street and pulled into a side alley. The bike rolled to a stop just before you kicked the leg stand out and turn off the bike.

Natasha kept her arms around you as the volume of the city worked its way into your ears. You smiled at the contact and weren't surprised when the hands moved south to the end of your dress.

You turned and clinked your helmet into Natasha's, making her shoot her eyes your way. She watched you raise an eyebrow. But Natasha ignored your gaze and let her red-painted nails scratch your bare skin before pulling away.

"Did you enjoy it?" She husked as the two of you lifted your helmets. You rested your helmet on the left handlebar and checked your hair before turning back to face the redhead. "Every single bump in the road." You smirked.

Natasha looked you up and down. "I bet." She hummed and got off the bike first before helping you. "Your touch wasn't so bad either." You said as you handed Natasha the keys. "My touch, huh?" She asked. You nodded and walked behind her. Wrapping your arms around her waist. "Your touch." You rested your forehead against her shoulder before pulling away. Pink hue on you both.

Natasha loved this.

She smiled and placed her helmet on the right handlebar before stepping back next to you. "So, where did you take me?"

You pointed around the corner and briefly held Natasha's hand as you approached the entrance. "Sushi?" Natasha questioned at the Japanese signs in the window. "But you don't like sushi," Natasha said as you opened the door. "But you do." Natasha, while flattered, shook her head. "Y/N I-"

"Nat."

"What are you going to eat?!" Natasha questioned as you let go of the door and walked closer to the woman on the sidewalk.

"I'll eat whatever you get. Or I'll order something I can get down. Tonight is my date night for you. Okay?" Natasha looked from the door to you. "Are you sure?" You nodded. "Plus the thought of you speaking Japanese, oh man!" You made your eyebrows jump while Natasha gave you a pity laugh. "But seriously, don't worry. There's more planned for tonight."

Natasha nodded. She believed you. "Okay." You smiled and quickly opened the door for Natasha. "Thank you."

"Of course." You said as your eyes fell to Natasha's jeans. "Eyes up, Y/N." She said with a smirk before sitting herself at the open sushi bar. You following.

"Tsu onegaishimasu," Natasha said to the man who nodded behind the bar as he placed two small ceramic cups for sake. He smiled at you before looking and speaking to Natasha. Natasha laughed and turned to you. "He said my Japanese is excellent." You smiled and looked at the menu before you. "Hot, too." You mumbled with a smile before feeling a soft slap on your knee. "Detka, please." Natasha quietly said.

You closed your legs.

"Russian, too?!" You quietly shouted.

Natasha scanned up your body before smirking and biting her bottom lip. "Da."

Maybe you needed another ride on the bike.

Your menu was taken from you minutes later when Natasha went ahead and ordered enough for the two of you. She made sure to mix enough new things with some things you could keep down.

"So..." You looked to Natasha as she set her drink down. "Next dates gotta be at a Russian restaurant, right?" You smirked and waited for Natasha to answer.

She shook her head with a laugh.

"This one's not even over, and you think you're gonna get a second one?" You nodded with glee. "I know I will." Natasha enjoyed your overconfidence. It was natural as opposed to off-putting.

She had enough of that, thanks to your boss, Tony Stank.

"Besides, we already live together." Natasha moved her head from side to side as she squinted. "Debatable."

"Well, our address is the same. Is it not?" You had the redhead there. Natasha closed her mouth and playfully glared at you. "Not holding back tonight, huh?" You shook your head. "We can start the cliché 20 questions if you're ready?" You said with a laugh that lit up the room in the eyes of The Black Widow.

"Okay," Natasha said as she turned more towards you as rolls of sushi started to be placed between the two of you. "For each question we answer— honestly— we eat a roll. Given by the other person."

Natasha caught how you added the H word.

She swallowed and nodded.

It was known to the both of you that Natasha knew a whole hell of a lot more about you than you did about her.  So this was your way of getting to know the woman you wanted to spend more and more time with.

Natasha picked up a pair of chopsticks. "I'm ready." You did the same. "Me too." You smiled and looked at the rows of sushi. "Just don't make me eat a gross one." Natasha playfully rolled her eyes once again. "Trust me. Whatever I put in your mouth will be good for you."

Your mouth fell open as you drop your chopsticks to the ground.

Two minutes later, with a red face and new chopsticks, the game of questions started. _

"Oh, come on, don't be a baby."

"Natasha, you said it was deadly!"

"I said it's deadly if it's not prepared right!"

You closed your mouth and dodged Natasha's pufferfish sushi before she reached over and grabbed your nose closed. Your eyes went wide and searched the spy's green ones for any sign of giving up. But you saw the same look she had when you were bleeding out. Determination.

"Take it!" Natasha said as the sushi flew into your mouth before she placed her hands over your lips. You wanted to make the first dirty joke that came to your mind, but you were too busy trying to get the pufferfish into your stomach.

"Done?" Natasha asked as she lifted her hand after a minute of chewing.

You swallowed. "It wasn't that bad." You said before reaching for your glass of water.

Natasha shook her head before breaking into a laugh. "You're unbelievable." You perked up and winked. "So I'm told." Natasha looked over your face before lifting her hand up and gently wiped away the smudge lipstick from the corner of your mouth. You sat still and let her fingers linger under your chin before she drug them up and away.

How she looked tonight was etched into your brain.

"I meant what I said before. You're beautiful." You said before Natasha's eyes left your face. She stopped. Her body softened. You saw her eyes look from your eyes to lips and back.

Natasha cleared her throat.

"Thank you, Y/N." Natasha closed her mouth and opened it, but nothing came out. You just smiled and loved the way she looked at you before picking up a California roll. "Okay, my tu-"

"I really like you." Natasha cut you off.

You moved your gaze from the roll to her eyes staring at you. Natasha nervously smiled at you before surprising you by leaning forward, grabbing your chin, and kissing your lips.

She was gentle and tasted like cherries. Well, and sushi, but her red lips were sweet nonetheless.

Like she was.

She was a hot, dangerous spy who spoke a multitude of languages but, at the same time, was profoundly caring for her friends and had a glow deep within her that was good.

Natasha thinks that pain makes her stronger.

But you knew that was naturally Natasha—a strong, gorgeous person inside and out.

Her lips left yours as air came back into the two of you. "I-I like- I really like you too." You fumbled over your words before giving her a quick peck while holding onto the California roll between your chopsticks.

Natasha nodded as she sat back down. "Okay. Good." She said before laughing to herself. Her nerves were calming back down.

You just thought she was being cute.

"We like each other." You said as you laughed, too. "That's good, or else this date wasn't going anywhere." Natasha threw her head back. "Well, I'm glad it's going somewhere," Natasha said.

"Me too." You said as you raised the California roll to Natasha's mouth. She opened up and took it with joy.

You placed the chopsticks down.

"I guess it's my turn for a question, but I feel like it's inappropriate now." You said as Natasha picked up a roll for you. "Inappropriate, huh?" Natasha smirked, making you roll your eyes. "Not like that." Natasha played along. "Okay, sure, Y/N."

You smiled back and opened and closed your mouth before finally placing your arms on the bar top. "You don't have to tell me, but... Who's Yelena?"

Natasha wasn't expecting that question. Her mouth slowly fell as she lowered the roll back onto the plate. Her eyes hardened while a look of guilt flew across her face. "How do you know that name?" Her voice had an edge to it, and it instantly reminded you when she held you down on the floor in Budapest... Budapesht?

Boy, the two of you have been through a lot in such a short time.

You made sure to lock eyes with Natasha. "You said it in your sleep a couple of nights ago." You answered honestly. "It was the night you came and watched The Nanny with me. I woke up around 4 am to see you still there. I'm not going to lie it was sweet, but it looked like you were having a pretty intense dream. You kept murmuring in your sleep about someone named Yelena."

Natasha swallowed and sighed as she turned her body more to you. Her clothed knees brushing against yours. "Yelena is my sister." You pulled your head back in shock. "Oh!"

You wanted to say. "I didn't know you had a sister." But you'd just be stating the obvious. "Did I say anything else?" Natasha cautiously asked. You shook your head. "No. Just her name." You smiled in an effort to try to make Natasha feel better, and it worked a little, but now Natasha felt the need to tell you about Ohio.

But before she could, you said something that would stick.

"I'm sure you'll see her soon." Natasha paused at your words. "You think?" Natasha asked, earning a nod. "If she's anything like her sister, she's out there, and she's strong and caring too. You, too, will find each other again." You sent a big smile to Natasha.

She returned it with watery eyes before blinking them away.

"I'm just happy it's your sister and not an ex. I was about to go hot spy mode." Natasha laughed while she picked up a napkin. "I would've loved to have seen that." You shrugged. "There's still time, Miss. I speak over ten languages."

Natasha picked up a roll and brought it towards you. "You just want me to speak in another language again." You opened your mouth, allowing Natasha to feed you.

"Of course!" You said in a duh-like manner with a mouth full of sushi.

Natasha signaled for the check for you as you swallowed. She turned back to you. "Okay, Y/N." She gave you her full attention, making you close those legs tighter.

"Dove andremo dopo?" (Where are we going next?") _

You parked the bike in front of the cafe Tony helped you rent out for the night.

Once again, Natasha helped you off the bike before the two of you placed your helmets on the handlebars.

"A cafe?" Natasha asked as she took your hand in hers. "Not just any cafe, Nat." You smiled as you walked ahead and grabbed the door for her. Natasha let go of your hand as you two entered the building. Stopping in front of another set of doors that were locked. To the left was a sign in the area where a woman was sitting.

"A cat cafe!" You exclaimed as you turned to the woman waiting. "I take it this is the Y/N Romanoff party?" The woman with the name tag Ana asked. You nodded with glee while Natasha's brain was playing catch up.

How did she figure out my love of cats? Wait, did she say Romanoff party? Y/N Romanoff??

These questions and more swirled around before you turned around and made eye contact with Natasha.

"I may or may not have heard from a man with an eye patch that you have a fondness for cats. Specifically black ones."

When the hell did she meet Fury?

Was the next question Natasha kept inside.

"Y/N, this is so sweet! Thank you!" Natasha smiled as the two of you lathered your hands with hand sanitizer. Gotta be safe and careful with the kitties.

Ana opened the second double doors and waved you and your date inside. "Well, come in, Romanoffs. We have some cuties waiting to meet you."

You blushed at the name, and hoped Natasha wouldn't point it out. But you already knew her well. She bumped your shoulder while Ana left the two of you with menus and a binder full of the cats' names, likes, and dislikes.

"Y/N Romanoff, huh?" Natasha said as she flipped through the binder. Not really looking but giving you the impression as her eyes did not turn to meet yours. "Cool it." Natasha nodded.

You turned away from Natasha as Ana let the cats into the giant space. "Not a bad last name, though." You smirked and saw Natasha look at you with a soft gaze from your peripheral vision before she, too, looked at the cats flooding the room.

Immediately, a tabby cat ran up to your table and jumped closer to you. You laughed as you remembered briefly having a cat before it turned out to be your neighbor's.

Oof.

You peeked at the name of the tabby. "Majima." You whispered. "He's cute," Natasha said but without much more interest as she looked around at the multiple black cats. Some had white paws. Some had spots. But they were all precious to her, and she wanted to scoop them up and kiss their little heads.

Which she did to a few cats named Kiryu, Geoff, and Mr. Soupwater.

But then a pure black cat walked by Natasha, and it was all over. You practically watched Nat throw herself to the ground in order to get closer. Leaving her cinnamon lavender latte behind.

You watched the cat with hazel eyes stop in its tracks before taking slow steps to the woman who made your stomach flutter with a certain feeling.

You could see the heart eyes Natasha had when she turned to with a wide smile. "Y/N look!"

"I see!" You returned the joy and gently rose from your chair and sat behind Natasha as the cat looked from you back to Natasha before running into her arms.

"He loves you!" You said just as Ana was coming around to check on the kitties.

"She never does this," Ana said. A melting Natasha looked up. "Really!?"

"Maybe she was waiting for you." Ana left it at that. You reached for the collar. "Liho." You said. The cat purred into Natasha's chest.

Slowly, Natasha turned her head. "She's perfect."

You nodded.

Yes, she was.

Safe to say, the rest of your date turned into you being a third wheel as Natasha spent more and more time with Liho. But you couldn't be mad or even remotely upset as you watched the redhead transform before you. All night, you had seen the honest Natasha, and she was breathtaking. So was the spy. But something about seeing someone you watched kill people weeks ago roll around on the floor with a black cat was perfect.

You don't know how you didn't slip up and say the L(ove) word.

I mean, of course, it would've been too soon. But you were you, and it wouldn't have been a shocker to anyone.

Regardless. That night led to you driving very slow on the way back home as Natasha held Liho in her carrier as if her world depended on it.

And yes, Tony made the same joke you're thinking.

Two lesbians who are already living together go on a date and end up adopting a cat.

But three years later, you wouldn't have it any other way.

Except for maybe when Natasha comes home to your shared apartment, she greets you first instead of Liho.

Ups and Downs.

dividers by @/benkeibear