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imthenatynat · 3 days
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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (14/?)
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Part Summary: Leigh reconciles with Jules and then receives news from Danny that could potentially disrupt her new beginning with you.
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5.200+ | Warnings: Spicy phone call | Author's note: The date will happen in the next one, and then after that, 1-2 chapters to wrap up this series :)
Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII
-
The date doesn't happen as quickly as Leigh expected. You don’t bring it up again for several days after your grand, against-all-odds declaration of love.
In the meantime, you text constantly. Sometimes you call, just to ask about her day. The first time, she’s so confused, waiting for the real reason behind your call. But there isn’t one—you simply wanted to talk, and texting wouldn’t do it.
She’s rarely on the phone with anyone these days. For her, phone calls are usually reserved for urgent requests from Drew or her mom, or from companies trying to sell her something. The last time she was on the phone just to talk was with Matt, during the stretches when work kept them apart for days. Before that, it was high school, chatting with friends and boyfriends about everything and nothing.
Talking to you on the phone feels like stepping back in time. There’s something intimate about it, something that modern-day texting can’t capture. She finds herself looking forward to your calls, the sound of your voice at the end of a long, tiring, or listless day.
Days stretch into a week before you finally ask her out, armed with the when and where. Leigh will never admit it to anyone, but the wait is excruciating.
The butterflies swarm in her stomach as she lies on her bed, fresh from a shower, in an oversized shirt and boy shorts, biting at her fingernails. She's already restless by the time her phone rings at the usual hour.
She picks up almost immediately, trying to keep her voice as blasé as she can manage. “Hey.”
“Hey, Leigh,” you reply breathily, not realizing how that tone makes Leigh press the phone harder against her ear, as if she wants to hear more of it. “How was your day?”
She rolls onto her back, stretching her hand out and drawing patterns in the air against the ceiling. 
“It was okay. Nothing too exciting. How about yours?” she says.
“Pretty good. Just busy with work stuff. I was thinking about you, though.”
The simple statement sends a new wave of warmth through her. “Is that so?”
“Very much so,” you whisper, and Leigh can almost see your smile, just like the one forming on her lips. “So, uh, I was thinking…”
“Yeah?” Leigh prompts, her heart picking up speed. She hears some shuffling on your end and waits with bated breath.
“Maybe we should finally go on that date,” you suggest,  hopeful and a bit nervous. 
Leigh’s heart leaps, and she tears the phone away from her ear, burying her face into her pillow as a squeal escapes before she can contain it. Catching herself, she quickly schools her expression, tosses the pillow aside, and sits up ramrod straight.
“We should,” Leigh blurts out, still feeling her heart thumping wildly against her ribs. “When were you thinking?”
“How about this Saturday?”
Leigh pauses, mentally counting—one, two, three—before replying, “Great. I’m free then.” 
Wanting to lock in the details, she asks, “What time?”
“Could I, um, have you for the whole day?” you ask hesitantly, and then quickly realizing how it sounded, you clarify, “I mean, could we make it a day-long date? I promise it’ll be worth your while.”
Leigh hums, pretending to mull it over, but inside, she's practically screaming yes.
“What do you have planned?”
“It's a surprise,” you reply, the playful secrecy in your tone drawing a grin from Leigh. 
Unable to contain her intrigue, Leigh tries to coax out some clues. “Anything you need from me? Dress code? Anything I can help you with?”
“No, just be yourself,” you say, your voice dropping to a softer, more intimate cadence. “Wear whatever makes you feel most like you. You're beautiful in anything.”
Leigh feels a warm blush spread across her cheeks. She's grateful you can't see her, can't see how your words reduce her to a pile of mush.
“In anything?” she asks coyly.
“Or nothing,” you whisper back, almost without thinking.
Leigh nearly chokes on her breath at that, biting her lip to stifle a moan that threatens to escape owing to the boldness of your flirtation. She doesn't immediately realize she's drifted into a stunned silence until you apologize, worrying that you might have crossed a line. 
“I'm sorry if that was too forward,” you say.
Leigh shakes herself, trying to clear the haze of memories—the soft moans, the way your body yielded to her touch that night. “No, it’s... I still think about that night,” she shares.
“O-Oh?” you stammer, your grip tightening around the phone. You're driving home with one hand, thinking it would be a short call. Suddenly feeling lightheaded, you quickly pull over to the side of an empty street, realizing you might not make it home safely if you don't.
“What do you... think about, specifically?” you venture, slowly unbuckling your seatbelt.
It’s as if a switch has been flipped in her. Her mind races back to that night—the way you touched yourself under her gaze, how she guided your movements, the feel of her finger inside you while she rode your thigh. 
“Leigh?”
Leigh's breath hitches, and she feels heat spreading through her body. She kicks off the covers, finding herself lying flat on the bed, her fingers inching teasingly at the hem of her shorts. She closes her eyes, letting the memory of that night trickle into the forefront of her mind.
“I think about the way you looked under me,” she says softly, “The flush of your skin, the sounds you made, how your lips felt against mine.”
Her words send a shiver down your spine. “Leigh,” you murmur, “I-I think about that night too. How you took control, how you made me feel like I was the only thing that mattered.”
Leigh's fingers slip beneath the waistband of her shorts, teasing herself as she remembers the feel of your skin against hers. “I remember guiding your hands,” she continues, her voice growing huskier. “Watching you touch yourself, seeing the pleasure in your eyes. It was intoxicating.”
You can hear the desire in her voice, and it sends a surge of arousal through you. “I remember the way you moved against me,” you reply, your voice low. “Your skin was so hot against mine, it felt like I was on fire.”
As Leigh's fingers dip lower, brushing against the wetness between her legs, she gasps. She tries to contain it but fails, letting out a guttural moan—a sound of pure want—right into your ear. The rawness of that sound snaps you out of your lust-filled reverie.
“Fuck, are you... are you touching yourself? I-I'm so—” you start, your voice shaking.
“Don't apologize. Just keep talking. It's okay,” Leigh cuts you off sharply, switches the phone to speaker mode, and swiftly removes her panties. For a brief second, she thinks she probably shouldn't be doing this, not before the date they'd just planned. But the overwhelming urge washes over her, making rational thoughts blur into the background. She can't control herself; she needs to come, needs you to make her come.
“Tell me what you'd do,” she chunters, no longer concerned about sounding needy. “Please.” 
“Shit,” you hiss, quickly connecting your phone to your car’s speakers and then tossing it onto the passenger seat. You then adjust the driver's seat to give yourself more legroom and hurriedly begin to unbutton your jeans. Though you're embarrassed to admit that you've never had phone sex before, you're not about to let inexperience stop you. Not when Leigh was practically purring in your ear, begging for it.
“Y/N?” Leigh’s voice rumbles through the confined space of your car and you hurriedly close your eyes as you formulate a response, your head buzzing with several things you want to do to Leigh at once.
“I'd start by kissing you,” you begin, your voice low and deliberate, though you feel a bit foolish at the tentative start. “Soft, teasing kisses, tracing a path down your body. I'd take my time, Leigh, tasting every inch of your skin.”
“Where would you kiss me first?” Leigh breathes.
“Your neck,” you reply, your fingers brushing against your own skin as if you’re tracing the path your lips would take on hers. “I’d kiss right behind your ears…then down your throat, lingering at your collarbone.”
Leigh’s breathing becomes more ragged, and you can almost feel her anticipation. “And then?”
“Then I’d kiss my way down to your breasts,” you say, your own arousal building. “I’d take each nipple in my mouth, sucking gently, then harder, feeling them harden against my tongue. I’d circle my tongue around them, flicking the tip, just like so.”
Leigh listens, her breaths becoming shallow, her body trembling with need. She closes her eyes, lost in the sensation, in the vividness of your description. She traps a rosy bud between her two fingers, mimicking the rhythm you describe, the tension in her belly coiling more tightly.
Meanwhile, your own hands are busy on your body. Despite the cramped space even with the car seat reclined, you manage to slide two fingers inside your pants, rubbing your clit, while your other hand tweaks your nipple.
A soft moan escapes Leigh’s lips, and you know she’s imagining your mouth on her. “I’d keep moving lower, kissing down your stomach, tracing the lines of your body with my tongue. When I finally reach your thighs, I’d spread them open and kiss the inside, so close to where you want me but not quite there yet.”
“I’d breathe you in,” you murmur, “taking a moment to just enjoy the scent of you. Then I’d lick, just once, a slow, teasing lick from the bottom of your slit to the top, tasting how wet you are for me.”
“Fuck,” Leigh groans wantonly, her fingers undoubtedly mirroring your words on her own skin. You can almost see her hand moving against her clitoris, fingers collecting her own wetness and spreading it all over until her inner thighs are glistening with it.
“I’d part you with my fingers,” you continue, your own breath coming faster now, “and then I’d dive in. I’d lap at you, my tongue moving in slow circles around your clit, feeling it swell under my tongue. I’d drink you in, Leigh, tasting every drop, getting lost in how sweet you are.”
“Don’t stop,” Leigh pants, and you can hear her movements quickening, the unmistakable sound of wetness and skin in frantic motion, as if she's placed her phone near the epicenter of her impending climax.
“I wouldn’t,” you promise. “I’d suck on your clit, gently at first, then harder, using my tongue to drive you crazy. I’d slide a finger inside you, curling it to find that perfect spot, the one that makes you see stars. I’d keep licking and sucking, adding another finger, thrusting them in and out, matching the rhythm of my tongue. I wouldn’t stop until I felt you trembling, until I heard you crying out my name as you came.”
Leigh’s moans grow louder, more desperate, and you can almost see her, writhing on her bed, lost in pleasure. “Y/N, I’m close,” she gasps.
“I’d be looking up at you, watching your face as you c-come for m-me,” you say, your voice faltering as you slide a finger inside yourself. “Fuck, Leigh, baby, come for me.”
It's the endearment and the mental image of your deep brown eyes, brimming with hunger and worship, that sends her spiraling into ecstasy.
“Oh god, Y/N!” Leigh moans, her back curving as an intense orgasm overtakes her.
You’re not there yet, but you close your eyes, letting the image of her climax burn into your mind.
Leigh lies there, basking in the afterglow, her body still trembling with the remnants of her orgasm. She’s about to check in on you, perhaps return the favor, when the front door opens and closes with a bang.
“Mom? Leigh?” Jules yells from the living room.
Panic surges through Leigh. She scrambles to her feet, hurriedly pulling on her underwear and shorts. The phone slips from her grasp, landing on the bed, the line still open.
Leigh reaches the top of the stairs, breathless and flushed, just as Jules appears at the bottom, looking up with a mix of worry and curiosity. 
“What's going on?” Leigh asks, wincing as she feels the stickiness between her thighs. She silently curses, wishing Jules could have shown up after she had a chance to shower.
“Where’s Mom?” Jules demands, her eyes scanning the hallway. “And Logan?”
“She took him with her for a grocery run,” Leigh replies, coming down the stairs. “Is something wrong?”
Jules sighs. “I was just worried. The door was unlocked, and I couldn’t find anyone. Thought something might’ve happened.”
Leigh relaxes a bit, though the adrenaline from moments before still courses through her veins. “It’s fine. I just didn’t realize you’d be coming home tonight,” she says.
“Yeah, about that…” Jules trails off, tilting her head toward the kitchen with a meaningful glance. 
Leigh follows, her bare feet whispering against the wooden floorboards. Striving for nonchalance, she asks, “You hungry?” Her hand hovers over the fridge handle, betraying none of her recent distractions.
Jules stops in her tracks and turns back to Leigh. “I’ve been thinking,” she starts, hesitating slightly. “I’d like to move back in.”
“That’s… great,” Leigh says flatly, unsuspecting of her sister’s announcement. She catches the sharp drop of Jules’ brows and hurries to cushion her words. “I mean, we never actually wanted you to go. You’re welcome back anytime, you know that.”
Jules' eyes sharpen, her lips pulling into a tight line. “But only if we talk first.”
Leigh nods, a hard lump forming in her throat. “Of course,” she says.
-
They end up ordering take-out when Leigh's nose wrinkles at the unmistakable stench wafting from the numerous boxes of leftovers crammed in the fridge. She can't recall how long they've been there, only that their rightful place is now the trash bin.
It's Jules who picks the restaurant, and Leigh bites her tongue over the choice of Vietnamese. The last time they'd ordered from there, Jules had barely picked at her food, pushing noodles around her plate more than eating them. Leigh tries not to think too much about it.
The dining table is overtaken by a clutter of takeout boxes, each one wafting a blend of lemongrass and ginger into the room—a scent so rich you could almost scoop it out of the air. Leigh watches her sister with that look—the one that's all walls and wariness, like she’s guarding the last piece of herself she can’t afford to lose.  Jules, on her part, looks a little restless, her fingers skirting the edges of a white takeout box like it might offer some kind of sanctuary.
“So, talk,” Leigh prompts,  twirling her chopsticks to pick up a fresh vegetable roll and dipping it into peanut sauce.
Jules takes a breath, a deep one. When she meets Leigh’s eyes, it’s with a resolve that seems to pull her upright. “Fine, since I’m the one who kicked this off, I’ll lead. I’m sorry. I know I tossed around some pretty nasty words last time I stormed out, and I meant them—then. But calling you a sociopath? That was me going off the deep end.”
Leigh’s face hardens, a quick, involuntary tightening of her features as she recalls the sting of that last confrontation. She pushes her noodles around her box, the chopsticks clattering softly. Jules waits, the steam from her own untouched meal rising and disappearing into the air.
“I appreciate your apology, Jules, really, I do. But you can't just throw words like that around, whether you mean them or not. Words stick. They fester,” Leigh says, meeting Jules’ gaze squarely. 
Jules looks down, tries to mask the hurt that flickers across her face, biting down on her lip. 
Leigh continues, “When I criticize you, it’s not meant as an attack. I’m not someone who likes to beat around the bush, especially not with family.”
The word ‘family’ hits differently this time—at least for Jules it does. Her heart aches at the mention, dragging up memories of a recent painful conversation where she had confessed to feeling like an outsider in her own family.
“Sometimes it's not about what you say but how you say it,” Jules mutters.
Leigh looks at her expectantly, clueless and curious at the same time.
“Not everyone can handle being talked to so bluntly. Not everyone’s as frank as you, okay? Sometimes it feels more like you're pushing me away instead of trying to help.”
Leigh goes quiet, letting the silence stretch just a bit before she nods. “You’re right,” she concedes, the words slipping out almost thoughtfully. It’s almost surprising, the lack of her usual quick-fire defense. “I think I got so wrapped up in the idea that being honest meant being harsh. I can work on that. I should work on that.”
Jules blinks, taken aback by the calm acceptance in Leigh’s tone, the ease with which she receives the criticism. It’s a side of Leigh she hasn’t seen much of—this reflective, almost gentle version. It's a welcome change, a sign of growth that feels both sudden and deeply necessary. 
“I didn’t expect... I mean, I’m glad you took that the way you did,” Jules says.
Leigh gives a small, almost sheepish smile, a rarity on her usually stoic face. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About how I say things, not just what I say. It’s been... a lot to unpack. But hearing this from you, it really helps. It does.”
She means it. Ever since you’ve stubbornly eased your way into her life, she’s done a lot of thinking. She’s done a lot of grieving too, realizing that if she had seen the changes that needed to be made earlier, things might have been different for her—for Matt. She’s learned to accept that life is always going to be filled with regrets, but she’s grateful now to recognize that she still has the chance to change, even if it came a little too late.
Better late than never, right?
She looks at Jules, her eyes earnest and a little bit haunted. “I’m sorry, Jules, for everything I said, everything I made you feel. I love you. You’re my sister, always. I know I can be too hard on the people who mean the most to me, but I’m going to try, really try, to balance that love, to understand how you need to be loved.”
Jules sits frozen, speechless for the first time. Their confrontations usually spiral into heated exchanges until one of them storms off. She hadn't expected this to be so... civil and mature. 
So unlike them. 
Finally, she manages a small, shaky smile. “Yeah, this... this went way better than I played it out in my head.”
Leigh’s laughter is a quick splash of reprieve, a burst of surprise at how well things have turned.  But it fades as quickly as it bloomed, her smile slipping into a frown as she catches the shadow creeping over Jules’s face. 
“What is it?”
Jules fidgets, nervously twisting a napkin between her fingers. “I... need to ask you something that’s been eating at me for months... well, almost a year now. And I need you to be brutally honest with me, Leigh. Can you promise that?”
Leigh feels a slight tremor of worry, but brushes it off and nods. “You’re scaring me, but sure. I promise.”
“Here we go,” Jules says, taking a deep, faltering breath. “Remember that night? When I was so drunk you had to come and get me? It was the last night Matt was... before he... you know. Do you ever resent me for it? I did such a horrible thing, robbing you of his last moments because I couldn't keep it together—”
“You know I’ve never blamed you for that. Not during our last fight, not when Matt died, just... never, basically,” Leigh says, leaning back on her chair.
“But some part of you must have hated me, because—”
“No—”
“—maybe he needed someone.”
Leigh just shrugs and denies it which only frustrates Jules even more. “No, Leigh,” she tries, “I need you to listen to me. I was very drunk that night—”
“You were really drunk a lot of nights and you’ve done a lot of crappy things,” Leigh states frankly. “But none of them had anything to do with Matt’s death.”
Jules swallows hard, her eyes stinging. “But what if it did, though?”
Leigh, clearly frustrated, responds, “You really think that?”
Jules looks down at the table and stays silent.
“Jules,” Leigh sighs, searching for the right words to reassure her sister. Eventually, she opts for honesty. “Look, I can’t tell you how to feel, but that’s not how I feel. Okay?”
It takes a second longer for Jules to say, “Okay.”
Leigh stares intently at her sister, noting the way Jules's eyes avoid contact. She knows the soft okay from Jules isn't a signal of acceptance or peace, but a white flag in a battle mostly with herself. Jules is grappling with her own guilt, a feeling that has little to do with Leigh but still consumes her. Leigh wishes, not for the first time, that her sister could see the truth as easily as she reads into misconceptions. It’s the same thing she wishes for herself.
Feeling slightly vindicated to have aired her feelings, Jules turns her attention back to the food spread between them. She reaches for her bánh mì, grips it firmly, and takes a hearty bite. As she chews thoughtfully, she manages a muffled, “Thanks, Leigh.”
Leigh just offers a small, understanding smile.
As they continue eating, Jules suddenly grins, crumbs dotting the corners of her mouth. “You're probably wondering why we're having Vietnamese tonight,” she says.
Leigh raises an eyebrow, curious despite herself. “I was wondering.”
Jules chews quickly, then, with her mouth still full, blurts out, “Well, I've got one more piece of news for you.”
-
It’s almost midnight when Leigh returns to her bedroom. 
As soon as her eyes land on her cellphone, carelessly tossed on the sheets, guilt floods her. She remembers she didn’t even say goodbye to you. Horrified, she realizes she left you hanging, high and dry.
She grabs her phone, her heart pounding in her chest, and checks for any messages from you. The screen lights up, but there are no new notifications, no missed calls.
“God, I’m such an idiot,” she mutters to herself, running a hand through her hair. She takes a deep breath and dials your number, her fingers trembling slightly as she presses the call button.
It rings once, twice, and then you answer. “Leigh?”
“Hey. Sorry, did I wake you?” Leigh asks, picking up on the sleepiness in your voice.
“No, not at all. What’s up?”
She lets out a relieved sigh before rushing into an apology. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you like that. Jules came home and then I—”
“It’s okay, Leigh,” you whisper soothingly, grateful that she called you back at all.
That doesn’t alleviate Leigh's guilt, though. She racks her brain for a way to make amends. 
“Can we… Can we pick up where we left off?” she suggests hesitantly.
You let out a kind chuckle. “I’d like that. But maybe we should save it for… later. Honestly, that was a bit reckless, Leigh.”
Leigh's brow furrows, even though you can't see it. “What do you mean?” she asks.
“I want to do this right,” you explain earnestly. “If taking things slow helps us build something real, then I’m willing to wait.”
“Well, clearly patience hasn’t been my strong suit either,” Leigh admits, her lips curving into a grin at your attempt to be chivalrous.
“I know,” you whisper, traces of a smile audible in your voice. “But I didn’t want you to think that’s all I’m after. And believe me, I want you—it’s driving me crazy.” 
Leigh runs her tongue along her teeth, feeling the familiar tug of desire low in her belly.
“I just don't want us to get so caught up in the physical stuff that we miss out on really getting to know each other,” you say.
“Me neither,” Leigh agrees, tucking the blankets up under her chin, pretending it's you keeping her warm.
“While I obviously enjoyed our…conversation earlier,” you say, pausing to maintain your composure. You can still hear the echo of Leigh's moans in your car, the memory likely to revisit you on sleepless nights in the coming days. “I'm really looking forward to diving deeper into things, like your favorite book, on Saturday.”
“Maybe I'll bring you a whole list,” she teases.
“Guess I’ll have to find that library card I signed up for then,” you joke.
“A library card, huh? Dork,” she retorts affectionately.
You feign a wounded tone, “Ouch.”
The laughter that follows is light and easy. You sigh contentedly and say, “I should probably call it a day. I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”
“Good night, Y/N.”
“Good night, Leigh.” I love you. “See you on Saturday.”
The call ends with both of you reluctantly hanging up, smiles fixed on your faces as you lie back. Leigh is an addictive rush, coursing through your veins like adrenaline. You've excused yourself out of habit for sleeping early, but you doubt you’re going to get much sleep tonight.
-
Leigh nudges open the door to the crowded bistro tucked near the Basically News office. It’s the thick of lunch hour, and the place pulses with the chatter of midday patrons. It’s exactly the sort of public, non-intimate setting you'd want for meeting an ex. She weaves through the crowded room, spotting Danny at a corner table, his focus tethered to his phone as he absently taps on the screen.
“Hey,” she greets, sliding into the chair opposite him.
Danny looks up, a hint of irritation flashing in his eyes. “You know, I could’ve just dropped by your house later.”
Leigh shakes her head. “It's better to meet somewhere public from now on.”
His expression darkens, and he scoffs. “Why? So Y/N doesn’t get jealous?”
Leigh leans back, crossing her arms. “Yes,” she says, deliberately blunt.
Danny's jaw sets, a muscle twitching slightly, but he doesn't press the issue. Instead, he reaches into his bag and retrieves a folder, sliding it across the table toward Leigh. “Matt’s publisher wants to release his comic posthumously,” he starts, “but there are strings attached.”
Interest sparks in Leigh's eyes as she opens the folder, her eyes quickly scanning the contract. 
“What kind of strings?” she asks.
“They want either you or me—or both of us—to join a group of artists to promote the comic—”
“That sounds fair and exciting,” Leigh interjects a bit too soon.
“—across the country,” Danny finishes, clicking his tongue in mild annoyance. “It’s a tour, Leigh.”
Leigh's fingers stall at the edge of the paper, the reality of the proposition sinking in. 
“A tour?” she echoes.
“Yeah,” Danny nods. He flags down a waiter and orders a beer. “Early next year. Matt’s comic is in the final stages of editing, and it should be finalized in about three weeks. They’re aiming for a release in February, and the tour will follow right after that.”
“That sounds soon,” Leigh remarks. “How long is the tour supposed to last?”
“About two months,” Danny replies. “We'll be traveling across different states, attending conventions, signing autographs, meeting fans. It’s a big commitment.”
“We?”
Danny shrugs, the hurt briefly flickering across his face before he can hide it. “Yeah, we. Though I'm not sure I can join because of the new job in Vegas. There's a good chance you might be doing this solo.” His attempt at nonchalance doesn't quite cover the sting of her reaction—how distant the concept of 'we' seems to her.
Leigh chews on her lip, her thoughts drifting to her own commitments—her column, her classes at the Beautiful Beast, and you. The idea of leaving all that behind, even for just a few months, feels like too great a sacrifice.
“It’s a lot to take in,” she says, pushing the folder back towards Danny. 
“He deserves this kind of recognition,” Danny implores, as if suggesting that Leigh thinks otherwise.
“I'm aware,” she snaps back, “I just need a bit of time to think it through, to sort out the schedules and everything.”
Danny raises his hands in mock surrender, indicating he doesn't want to escalate the argument. But Leigh knows him well enough to see through it—it’s a tactic. Danny has a way of guilting her into decisions without saying much, letting assumptions and insinuations simmer until Leigh finds herself making the choice he wants.
Leigh stands up, slipping the folder into her bag. “I’ll let you know as soon as I can.”
“Fine,” Danny says with a tight nod. “Just don’t drag your feet. The publishers are waiting on an answer soon.”
-
Saturday comes soon, but not soon enough.
All week, relentless rain showers have scattered across the days, and though the forecast promises sunshine today, Leigh wakes up to the soft splattering of rain against her window. The gentle patter seeps into her consciousness, easing her from sleep. The room is filled with a cool, damp scent, and is bathed in a soft, diffused light as the morning sun is muted behind thick clouds. 
Leigh gropes blindly beneath the pillow to her left, retrieving her phone and squinting at the time. It’s 9:30 AM. She blinks, trying to shake the sleep from her mind, and her heart drops slightly as she notices five missed calls from you, each one timestamped progressively: 7:45, 7:55, 8:15, 8:30, and finally 8:45.
Guilt twists in her chest. She sits up, brushing sleep from her eyes, and dials your number back, hoping she hasn’t missed something important. 
You answer on the first ring. “Hey. Everything okay?”
Leigh sighs, running a hand through her tousled hair. “Yeah, I'm sorry I missed your calls. I just woke up. What's going on?”
“It’s Saturday,” you say rather awkwardly. “We had plans to meet this morning, remember?”
Leigh sits up, suddenly fully awake. She’s been looking forward to Saturday all week, eagerly anticipating this date. The realization that she slept through most of the morning fills her with shame. She’s been so restless the past few days, and it was only the gloomy, sleepy weather last night that finally allowed her to get some decent rest.
“I’m sorry if I disturbed your sleep, but since it’s an all-day affair, I thought we could start with breakfast,” you continue, breaking the silence that had been filled only with Leigh’s soft breathing.
“Where are you now?” she asks.
You hesitate for a moment before replying, “I’m actually parked outside your house.”
Fuck. Shit. Damn it.
“Okay, okay. Sorry, uhm, can you give me five minutes?”
“Take all the time you need.”
Leigh ends the call and throws off the covers, scrambling to get dressed. She rushes to the bathroom, splashing water on her face and running a brush through her hair, muttering curses under her breath. Her hands tremble slightly as she picks out an outfit, the anticipation of the day ahead propelling her forward.
As she heads for the door, a small smile forms on her lips. This might not have been the flawless beginning she imagined, but just knowing you’re on the other side makes it perfect already.
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imthenatynat · 6 days
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Happily Never After
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Part 2 of Holiday Compromise
Summary: With your company expanding and dealing with your parents trying to get a hold of you, your plan to purpose to Wanda has been put on hold.
Note: Their will be MAJOR spoilers in the warnings.
Warnings: implied sex, nudity and non sexual nudity, drinking, stalking, threatening message, kidnapping, reader is a simp for Wanda and the boys, Vision is a decent man, talk of past trauma.
Word Count: 9.7k
"Have you asked her yet?" You looked up from your computer to see Natasha enter the conference room. Her arms were filled with her travel mug, breakfast, and laptop. She sighed when everything was out of her hands. She opened the brown paper bag, pulled out a breakfast sandwich, and handed it to you. You thanked her with a smile, but her question caught up with you.
"If I asked her to marry me, wouldn't you be the first to know?" You opened your food and took a bit, moaning at the taste. "That was stupid," it was a little muffled from the bagel in your mouth. Your comment received a quick slap to the back of your head. "Ouch," you whine, mouth full of food. You slapped her back, and she was quick to attack.
"Children," Yelena warned as she entered the room, followed by Shuri and Bucky. "Enough," Natasha mumbled something you missed in Russian and angrily sipped on her coffee. You laughed at her dramatic behavior and felt a little bad for Yelena. The blonde had to deal with you and Natasha as kids. Nine times out of ten, it ended up in a fight. "Can I see the ring?"
You smiled, took it out of your pocket, and slipped it across the table for the blonde to see. You bought it two days after the vacation with the family of three while Wanda was at work and the twins were at Vision's. It was a three-diamond ring from Tiffany's. The stones were pear-shaped. The ring was simple but flashy. You wanted to woo her. That was three months ago, and it was almost May.
Once Yelena was done, she handed it to Shuri. "I'm surprised you haven't lost it," Shuri teased and gave it to Bucky.
"Not a bad ring boss," he tossed it back to you and caught it. But Shuri is right," he said, taking his usual spot by the door. "You better pop the question before you lose it, or she finds it." Your team laughed.
"Why are you all picking on me?" You groaned. "I can fire all of you." Natasha chuckled.
"Please, your name is on the building, but everyone knows we run this company," you said, flipping the redhead off.
"Right, just remember I sign your checks each week," you deadpanned. "Let's go over any last-minute changes and questions we want to ask them." Your team was meeting with Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, and Bruce Banner of Stark Industries. When the holidays were over, an email from Pepper was in your inbox looking to form a business deal and collaborate with you. It was a dream come true to work with the Starks, and you wanted everything to go smoothly, which is one of the reasons why the ring was still with you and not on Wanda's finger. You were busy; if this meeting went well, you would be even busier.
You loved your job—making high-tech wearable devices like smartwatches, fitness trackers, and smart clothing. But at the end of the meeting, you were hoping to create a new line with Stark's AI system—FRIDAY. Wanda was supportive through it all, making you love her even more. She would ensure you were eating, drinking enough water, and spending time away from your desk. All of her actions made the ring feel heavier each day.
*
A gentle knock on your home office's door pulled you away from your paperwork. Much needed to be done since the deal was made with Stark Industries. It was Wanda, wearing one of your button-up shirts, and the sleeves were pushed up to her elbows. You were pretty sure she was speaking, but the only thought in your head was how good she looked. The shirt was barely long enough to cover her red underwear. Her bare feet closed the distance between you and her. Carefully, she maneuvered onto your desk and sat down on the space. She could have ruined months of work, but it wouldn't have mattered to you. "Darling," she cupped your face in both her hands. "I was talking."
"And I wasn't listening," you admitted and grabbed her right foot, digging your thumb in the soul as you kissed her ankle. "I was thinking how beautiful you are, but how sexy it would be for my bite marks to cover your thighs," you bite down on the inside of her thigh. A hiss turned into a quiet moan left your girlfriend's lip. "Tell me what you were saying, baby."
"The boys are finally asleep," you continued your assault, littering her thighs with hickies. "Maybe," a quiet moan left her lips so she wouldn't wake the twins. "Extreme ice cream sundaes on a school night was not a good idea," you smirked. That was your idea, wanting to celebrate the deal with them.
"I'm sorry," you stood up slowly, undoing the shirt's buttons. Groaning when you saw she wasn't wearing a bra. "Tell me how to make it up to you," you loved the goosebumps that covered her skin. She was so sensitive, you loved it. When she didn't respond, you kissed her cheek and down the column of her throat. A sharp bite sent her hands to grip your hair. "Tell me, baby, I won't ask again."
"I need," her voice shook. You could feel heat radiating off her skin. "I need you to make me cum." It was the consent you needed. You pulled her hips to the edge of your desk and knelt between her lips. The paperwork that the team required tomorrow was no longer important. All you wanted -no, all you needed was to make your woman cum. Over and over again.
*
You splashed the cold water on your face to clean off the face wash. You were trying to be quiet as Wanda was asleep in bed. She tried to stay up with you as you finished the rest of your work, but it was a battle you knew she wouldn't win. She fell asleep on the couch, and once you were done, you carried her to bed and got ready. You were exhausted. Your work was terrific and essential, but some days, it felt like your brain was melting and dripping out of your nose. Sighing, you pulled back the covers and were about to join your sleeping girlfriend until your phone rang. You quickly silenced it, jumping at the sound. Luckily, Wanda remained asleep. "Fucking hell," you whispered and looked at the caller ID.
It was a number you hadn't seen in a long time—three years, to be exact—your father. You felt frozen; all you could do was watch the call and go to voicemail. "Sweetheart," Wanda's voice brought you back to reality. Are you coming back to bed?"
"Yeah," you said, silencing your phone and plugging it back into the charger. When you lay down, Wanda immediately placed her head on your chest.
"What's wrong?" Her accent was always deeper when she was tired. You thought it was cute. "Your heart is racing." Dammit. You hated how much your family affected you.
"It's because I'm in the presence of a goddess," she pinched your side and moved to rest her chin on your chest. You seemed to get lost in the green of her eyes. "I'm okay, baby. Just got a lot on my mind at work." She squinted her eyes at you.
"We are a team, remember?" You smiled and nodded.
"I remember," she kissed you softly and placed her head in the crook of your neck. "Sleep, baby. I promise I'm okay."
*
There was only one knock on your door before it opened to reveal your secretary, Sarah. "You have a visitor," you glanced at the clock. It was around lunch, and Wanda texted you this morning to say she wanted to spend it with you. You waved her in and focused on the phone call with Tony.
"Look, all I'm saying is we could partner with Odinson and Laufeyson and cut the cost of materials. It's a win-win" It was innovative thinking, and expanding both companies with New Asgard would be amazing. You watched Wanda walk, still in her uniform and a food bag. “Brunnhilde owes me a favor. She could set up the meeting," your girlfriend sat in front of your desk. You put up one finger to tell her you were almost done. She nodded and pulled out the food she brought.
"Yeah, it's a smart idea," you glanced at your calendar. The twin's birthday was marked on it, and it was coming soon. You made a mental note to order their birthday presents so they would arrive on time. "See if you can do it in a few weeks. I'm a little swamped at the moment." you chuckled.
"I've been telling you, kid. You need to delegate and hire some interns," you rolled your eyes and pulled the phone away from your ear, sending a playful glare to Wanda as the billionaire went on a tangent. It's fair. It was on your to-do list. Wanda giggled.
"Tony, I love you and hear you," you cut him off. "But my girl is here and I want to have lunch with her. Can we table this for another time?" You liked the blush that covered Wanda's cheeks. The man laughed.
"Enjoy, kid. Remember, don't do anything I wouldn't do, which isn't saying a lot," you chuckled. The billionaire was insane, but he was also a great business partner.
"Bye, Stark," you hung up before he could say anything else. "Sorry, I think the man likes to hear himself talk." You opened the sandwich she brought for you.
"It's fine," Wanda smiled. "How's your day been?" So you told her about your day; the endless amount of meetings and phone calls was taking a toll on you. She suggested taking another short vacation, just you and her. "It would have to be after the twin's birthday. You know that is coming up, right?"
"How could I forget? It's marked in my calendar." You showed her your calendar. You wrote it in red and circled it so it would stand out, and you wouldn't forget.
"I have something to ask you," you hated her tone and the way she played with the rings on her finger. "It's on behalf of the boys." It made you feel a little better.
"Baby," you reached for her hand and squeezed it. "You can ask me anything."
"The boys want to have their birthday party at their father's house," that made sense. His house was bigger; he had a yard and a pool. It was the perfect spot for a middle school birthday party. You figured this was about spending their birthday on a different day. "They want you to come to the party," you dropped her hand in shock. They wanted you to attend a party at your current girlfriend's ex-husband's house with his girlfriend. Fuck no. Hell no. "I know it's a lot, and you do not need to make a decision now. I told them it may make you uncomfortable?"
"Does Vision know they want me there?" Wanda sighed.
"He does and," you gave her a look to continue. "He was okay with it as long as you are." You blinked at her a few times, mouth opened slightly.
"Come again. That man has not liked me from day 1." You weren't looking for his approval, but you wanted things to be civil. Unfortunately, he was the twin's father. Wanda took your hand.
"I think he's starting to realize you aren't going anywhere," Damn straight. You were here to stay. "It helps that the boys like you, and we may have had our differences, but he loves them." That you knew was true. A small part of you, the younger you, was jealous that Wanda and Vision could still be parents to the twins through their divorce. Their main priority was Billy and Tommy, unlike your parents, who prioritized themselves.
"I'll think about it," if they wanted you there, then you could consider it, but God, it would be awkward. You hated awkward situations.
"Thank you," she helped you clean up and walked her to your office door. "Are you staying late?" You nodded. She brought her fingers to your temple and rubbed them. You moaned and fell into her. Her laugh made you feel lighter. "Don't stay too late, okay? You need sleep."
"I know. I'll text you when I'm done," you kissed her softly. "I love you." It was such a simple three-letter word, but it made your heart soar every time. You wondered if you said it enough.
"I love you too, sweetheart. Please take care of yourself," she said, fixing the collar of your shirt. "The boys and I need you," you said, cupping her cheeks and brushing your nose against hers.
"I need you too. Always."
*     
It was late. So stupidly late that you were annoyed with yourself that you couldn't keep your promise to Wanda. There was one thing left to do on your to-do list. All you had to do was sign the contract Pepper sent over and send it back. However, your mind was so focused on what Wanda asked you that the words blurred today. So you opened a bottle of whiskey and poured yourself a glass. Soft jazz music played from the record player that Melina got you. "What the hell are you still doing here?" Natasha opened and closed your door. "Don't you have a woman keeping your bed warm?"
"I guess I could ask you the same thing," you said, grabbing an extra glass and filling it. "Instead of a woman, it's more like two strong and muscular men," she said, taking the full glass you offered.
"Are you jealous?" you cringed. Dating and sleeping with men were not your thing. "Come on, tell Mama Nat all of your troubles and how she can help," she sat down on your couch and flopped on the spot next to her.
"You can never say that in my presence. Keep that in the bedroom," the redhead threw her head back in a laugh.
"Come on, boss, what's going on?' You joined her on the couch with the bottle and your glass."
"My mind is all over the place. With the deal with Starks, Wanda asked me something, and-" You took a sip of your drink, stopping yourself from telling her about the phone call from your father.
"What happened between you and Wanda?" You sighed.
"The twin's birthday is coming up. No, you can not get them anything," she pouted in protest. "I'm still apologizing for the Christmas mess," she shrugged. "The party is at Vision's house, and they want me to go."
"Oh," Natasha let out a slow breath. "Shit," you laughed, finished your drink, and poured yourself another one. "So, do the boys want you there or Wanda?"
"The boys asked Wanda to ask me," you simplified. The redhead nodded. She was biting the inside of her cheek and moving the liquor in her glass.
"So you go," she shrugged. Your jaw dropped. Was she serious? She knew you hated awkward situations; you avoided them like the plague. "Look, it's huge. The boys want you there. It speaks volumes that they want you there to celebrate with them. You go for them."
"You make it sound so easy," you groaned, throwing your head back.
"Because it is," she flicked you on your cheek. "The twins love you. Everyone sees it. It's no surprise they want you there. Besides, if Vision gets on your nerves, throw him in the pool," she tried to hide her smile in her glass. "He uncanny acts like a robot; it may short-circuit his motherboard or something." You laughed hard. It made your stomach begin to hurt. The red joined in, and you fell against each other. Natasha always knew how to make you feel better. You were grateful for her.
Your phone ringing caught the laughter between you and your friend. "It's probably the misuses," you fished the phone out of your pocket as Natasha picked up the two dirty glasses. It was not Wanda. Oh, how you wished it was. "Who is it?" You forgot Natasha was still in your office. She ripped the phone out of your hand when you refused to answer. That snapped you out of it. "Your fucking mother. What the fuck does that cunt want?"
"I don't know because I didn't answer it," you deadpanned. She ignored the call and threw it on the couch next to you. You caught it before it bounced off.
"How long has seen been trying to reach you?" Her green eyes turned stormy, and you felt yourself shrink under her intense stare. It was impossible to lie to her. You used to joke that she was a Russian spy in her past life.
"Not long," you mumbled. "My father called me a few days ago. It's the first time she's called me," she huffed and threw her arms up, then on her hips.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because it's not that big of a deal," your phone beeped, and you saw she left a voicemail. "Nat, you know how they are. They call when they need money. I ignore them, and when they find the money through someone else, they stop calling. It's the same way every time."
"I'm calling Melina."
"No!" You said suddenly and stood up. She raised an eyebrow at you with her phone in her hand. "I do not need the Russian mob going after my deadbeat parents. It will blow over."
"My parents aren't in the mob," you weren't 100% sure you believed her. Alexei had tattoos that would make any criminal go running. But she placed her phone back in her pocket. "I don't like this." You knew she wouldn't. It was another reason why you didn't tell her. She was very protective over you when it came to your parents. She had to mend a lot of the broken pieces caused by them.
"I know," you stood up, walked over to her, and placed your hands on her arms. "But they can't hurt me anymore." Natasha sighed, pinching the bridge of her noise.
"Promise me you will not give them anything. They don't deserve it," you nodded. "And promise me, if you don't feel safe, you call Maria or Melina." You nodded again. "I need to hear you say it."
"I promise." You knew they wouldn't intentionally hurt you, but to ease her nerves, you made the promise. Natasha pulled you into a hug, and you slumped against her. You felt safe. You felt like everything was going to be okay."
*
"Now, where are you off to?" Sarah asked when you stepped out of your office.
"I'm going to surprise Wanda at work," you smiled. "Can you transfer all calls to my personal? Oh! Do you want anything? I know you like their Ruben." She rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, and get me a slice of their cheesecake." Now that was a brilliant idea. She reached for her purse.
"If you hand me money, so help me, woman, I will slap you," she threw a piece of paper at you. Before you could retaliate, your phone rang. You stuck your tongue at her and answered it. "Hey, Wands, I was about to come see you."
"Actually," your smile dropped, and you stepped away from Sarah. "I need a favor." You hated how fast your heart started to beat. "Tommy and Billy have a half day that Vision and I forgot about. Can you pick them up? Vision will get them from you when he can."
"Of course. Jeez, you almost gave me a heart attack," she laughed. "I'll leave right now. I love you. See you tonight?" You questioned.
"Yes, and I love you too," you smiled and hung up. You faced Sarah.
"Duty calls," you gave her a salute. "I'll get you food whenever the boys want to go." Sarah laughed with a wave of her hand.
"Enjoy your time with them. We'll hold down the fort here."
Picking up the twins was always a walk in the park since your name was on the approved pickup list. The only annoying thing was the receptionist, who liked to flirt with you. You clarified that you were seeing someone, but she didn't care. The twins loved to tease you over it, much to Wanda's dismay.
You brought them to The Western Flavor for lunch. "Okay, we need to establish some rules," you said as they opened their menus. "Real food first, then desserts or your mother may break up with me." Billy laughed.
"It would take a lot for Mom to leave you."
"Yeah, I think you are stuck with us." You were more than okay with that. As you decided what to order, the twins updated you on all the school gossip. You forgot how crazy it was to be in middle school. Once the waitress brought your food, you noticed a change in their behavior. "Alright," you took a sip of your drink. "What's going on? Why are you acting weird?"
"Puberty," Tommy answered. You glared at them both. Billy rolled his eyes.
"Has Mom asked you about our birthday party?" Shit. Wanda asked you three days ago; the party was in a week.
"She did," you answered slowly.
"And?" Billy asked.
"Boys-," you sighed.
"Please, we really want you there," Tommy pleaded. "You are the only adult who will play with us in the pool." You laughed at that. He wasn't wrong. The weather was in that weird phase of not spring but winter. You looked at the weather for next week, and it was supposed to be in the mid-70s to early 80s.
"Plus, we asked Dad, and he said it was fine." Billy took a French fry from your plate. "Well, we didn't ask Tiffany, but it's not her house, so her opinion doesn't matter." Tommy nodded along with his brother. The twins' clear dislike of their father's girlfriend made you snort, which caused them to laugh at you.
"Okay, fine, I'll go," they cheered, and you couldn't help but smile at how excited they were. "However, if I find myself in one awkward encounter with him, I will use you two as my decoy."
"Aye, aye, captain," Tommy said.
"Sir, yes, sir," you rolled your eyes and threw your straw wrapper at them. They discussed everything that was going to happen at their party. You made a mental note to ask Wanda how you could help. You groaned when your phone started to ring. The boys laughed at your displeasure. Glancing at it, you saw it was your mother. They could not take a hint. You silenced the ringer and focused on figuring out what milkshake you wanted.
"Who was that?" Billy asked.
"No one important," you answered and stole a look at the twins. They were staring at each other. It reminded you of Wanda's look when she didn't believe the story the boys tried to spin. It was a little uncanny how similar the look was. "It was my mother. We don't have the best relationships?"
"Is that why you spend holidays with us instead of your mom and dad?" Billy asked with a slight tilt of his head.
"Yes, before you guys, I would celebrate them with my coworkers or Natasha and Yelena." You spent a lot of Christmas and Thanksgiving at the Russian household. The last holiday you spent with your parents was when you were 11.
"Why don't you like them?" Tommy questioned.
"You don't have to answer that," Billy quickly added, glaring at his brother. You smiled. Kids were curious by nature, but it was okay. Besides, you've spoken about your relationship with your parents in therapy. It was easier.
"My parents divorced when I was around your age, but unlike your parents, they don't care about me," Billy frowned at your confession. "So they only call me when they need money or something from me."
"Parents shouldn't do that," you agreed with Billy, but sometimes, that wasn't the case. The waitress came by to collect your plates and asked if you wanted dessert. The twins wanted a milkshake, and you got a fudge sundae. She left with your order.
"Tiffany says that about mom," Tommy said. "That she is just with you for the money."
"Tommy," his brother hissed, slapping his brother under the table. So it was supposed to be a secret. You wanted to have a few words with Tiffany.
"You know that's not true, right?" They nodded.
"Trust me, we know," Billy said. "If mom were with you for the money, we wouldn't still live in our small apartment." You laughed, shaking your head.
"I don't like Tiffany," Tommy cringed, twitching his nose like Wanda when she said or tasted something she didn't like.
"Tommy!" Billy said again.
"What? Stop trying to be all high and mighty. You don't like her either," you smiled as Billy slumped in the booth.
"Your secret is safe with me," you promised.
"She's just so-" Billy groaned, unable to find the right words. "There is something about her we don't like." The waitress brought you the desserts.
"Maybe because she's dating your dad," you suggested and ate a spoonful of ice cream. It was weird; you liked the feeling of the brain freeze. Tommy shook his head.
"You are dating our mom, and we like you," he said. It was always nice to hear that. Anyway, what are you getting us for our birthday?" You laughed. You loved these boys so much.
*
"Pop a squat, boys," you told them when you entered your office after you dropped off Sarah's food. "Your dad will pick you up when he's done with work. So homework than video games."
"Awe, come on," Tommy whined. "Aren't you supposed to be the fun parent?" Parent. He called you the fun parent. It was so strange how that single word could fill you with butterflies.
"Homework while I do my job, then we can play Mario Kart," you compromised. They seemed content, and they got to work on your couch. You figured you had 45 minutes to tack your to-do list. So you followed their lead and got to work. You were 15 minutes off, and 30 minutes later, they were standing in front of your desk with their homework done. You glared at the boys and ignored the smiles on their faces.
"You promised," Billy said. Sighing, you reorganized the papers on your desk.
"Come on, boys. It's time for me to kick your butts in Mario Kart." They cheered and followed you to the conference room. You kept a few game consoles set up in there. So you set up the game and began to play.
You loved this time with the boys. When you first started dating Wanda, you were worried about the twins not liking you. They were a little standoffish, but you bonded with them over video games.
You were gifted an early copy of "Edge of Vengeance: Retribution," the second game in the franchise, by the developers. The first one was okay but not your favorite. So when you were at dinner with Wanda and the boys, you overheard the twins talking about it. You gifted it to them the next day. The smile on their face was something that would stick with you forever.
"No fair!" Tommy wined and dropped the controller onto the table. "You have to be cheating." You crossed the finish line, once again in first place.
"I'm sorry, little man, I'm just better than you," you teased and dusted off your shoulders. Billy laughed. He gave up trying to beat you a few rounds ago. You laughed as the door opened. It was Sarah.
"Their father is here," she told you. You nodded and paused the game.
"Alright. Grab your stuff," they put their controllers away without asking them.
"I almost beat you in the race before the last one," Tommy said. You stood between them as you walked to the elevator and into the lobby. "It was so unfair you used that shortcut." You smiled.
"Then you should have said we couldn't use short cuts," you said as the door closed and descended. "It's your fault." Billy laughed.
"She's got you there,"
"You are supposed to be on my side, jerk," Tommy lunged for this brother, but you grabbed his backpack and pulled him back.
"Enough," you told him. "The last thing I need is for you to break the elevator." The doors opened, and you walked out with your arms around your shoulders. "You'll get me one day, buddy; just don't give up." You found Vision as soon as you entered the lobby. Dressed in a suit and his arms crossed, he seemed a little out of place.
"Hi, Dad," Billy walked over to him and hugged him.
"Hello, boys. Did you have fun?"
"We did!" Tommy smiled. "Y/n, let us play Mario Kart." Their father looked at you.
"I made sure they did their homework first," you weren't completely useless when it came to kids.
"Thank you for picking them up. It slipped our minds."
"It's no big deal," you told him and shrugged. "I know my schedule is more flexible, so whenever you guys need me to pick them up, I can," he nodded.
"Dad, dad," Tommy pulled on Vision's arm. "She said she'll come to our birthday party."
"If that's okay," you added on quickly. "I don't want to intrude." The man must have given himself whiplash on how fast he looked at you and his son.
"You won't be," he said, even though his voice sounded strained. "You are always welcome." Your jaw almost dropped. What was happening right now? "Come on, boys. Let's get out of her hair. You can be quite a handful," he teased and ruffled their hair. The boys said goodbye, and you waved after them, unable to find any words after that bizarre encounter with your girlfriend's ex-husband.
"Are you okay, boss?" Bucky asked, walking over to you from his post.
"I think I need a drink after that," the veteran laughed.
"You are so dramatic," he said. You stuck your tongue at him and walked back to the elevator. After a few more hours of work, you will be home with Wanda. 
*  
"Smells good," you smiled over your shoulder as Wanda entered the kitchen after her shower. Once Wanda's shift ended, you met her at the diner and drove you back to your house. While she showered away the day, you started on dinner. "Do you need help?" You shook your head.
"If you want to pick a wine to go with this, go right ahead," you had a pretty impressive wine collection and knew Wanda loved pairing a bottle with whatever dish. When she quit the diner, you would push her to culinary school. Once you placed the food, you carried the plates to the table, and Wanda brought the wine. She thanked you for cooking with a kiss. You spoke about nothing and everything. She caught you up on the latest drama at the diner and you gave her updates on work. Most of the time, you ate in a comfortable silence. It was one of your favorite things. There was no need to talk and fill the silence.
"So," you sipped on the wine. "I talked to the twins about their party." She nodded slowly and poured more wine from the bottle into her glass. "I will be going," you watched the relief wash over her. "If you wanted me to go so bad, you should have said so," you chuckled.
"I didn't want to put you in a situation you weren't comfortable in. I can deal with Vision. I don't like Tiffany," her nose scrunched in disgust. You laughed. Mother like son.
"What do you need help with?"
"Nothing," you glared at her. "I'm serious," she laughed. "Vision hired a catering service so I don't have to cook, and he rented extra chairs and tables from a party company. I may decorate the backyard, but everything is taken care of," your eyebrows went to your hairline. "I was shocked too, but all you have to do is show up," she stood up and picked up the dirty plates. "And look hot while you swim." You laughed and joined her in the kitchen. She was rinsing the dishes and placing them in the dishwasher. You wrapped your arms around her waist.
"Are you ready for all the horny moms to eye fuck me the entire time?" Your girlfriend tensed up. You chuckled and pushed her hair out of the way to attack her neck with your lips. "Don't worry, baby. I only have eyes for you," you moved your hand underneath her shirt and felt goosebumps that appeared on her skin. "So sensitive," you teased. She dropped the plate in the sink and spun around quickly. Her lips attached to yours.
"You are mind," she mumbled against your lips. You picked her up with your hands underneath her things. The dishes could wait a little longer.
*
"When are you going to be home? I miss you." You chuckled. "What? Can I not miss my girlfriend leaving me alone in a cold bed."
"That bed is not cold because you like the house at 79 degrees," your girlfriend huffed. "Not even an even number when you know I hate odds," the woman had the audacity to laugh at you. "I miss you too, by the way. You know I'd rather be there with you than here."
"I know," she sighed. "How much longer are you going to be?" You looked at the stack of mail on your desk Sarah brought in before she left.
"30 minutes, an hour tops," you answered and pinched the bridge of your nose. "I have a headache," you whined.
"Drink some water and wear your glasses," you groaned. "I'll try to stay up and wait for you."
"Don't worry about it, baby," you leaned back in your chair. You need your sleep. I'll try not to wake you when I get home." Wanda was pulling a double shift tomorrow, and the ring on your desk seemed to tease you.
"I love you, sweetheart," you smiled at Wanda's sleepy voice.
"I love you too, baby," you said as you hung up and picked up the jewelry box. You were so busy. Thor and Loki agreed to work with you and Stark Industries, so that meant more paperwork, deadlines, and headaches for you. You wanted to get as much done before the birthday party as possible before the short weekend getaway you and Wanda planned.
You didn't have enough brainpower to plan a proposal. You wanted to involve the boys, but that's all you had figured out.
Sighing, you put the box down and picked up the stack of mail. A lot of it was junk, a few letters from organizations thanking you for your donations and a magazine subscription you don't remember signing up for. However, an envelope caught your attention. There was no return address and no postage mark as if someone had just dropped the letter off. Carefully, you opened it up and pulled out the letter.
Your stomach dropped immediately. The letter was created by cutting out maginze letters and gluing them together. It was something you saw out of an actual crime show. It read: 'Pay us what you owe, or they will get it.' A snake wrapped around your heart. It was difficult for you to breathe. You ran your hands over your face. As your hands shook, you picked up your phone and called an old friend.
"Why do I smell trouble?" Maria answered on the second ring. "Do I need to bail you and Natasha out of jail again?" You could have laughed if bile wasn't forming in your throat.
"Maria, I need you to come to my office," you said. "It's an emergency." Could she hear the shake in your voice? Fuck, your heart was pounding against your ribs. You were going to have a panic attack. "Ria, I need you."
"Shit," you heard movement on her side. "I'll be right there. Do I need to stay on the phone with you?"
"No," you said. "I'll be fine. Just hurry, please."
"I'll be right there. Do your breathing exercises for me, okay? You're no use to me if you pass out," she managed to make you chuckle.
"Thanks, Ria. I'll see you soon," she hung up. You stood up and walked away from your desk. You needed to get away from that letter. So you paced—5 steps one way, turn around 5 steps the other way, and repeat and repeat. It helped lessen the tension in your chest, and you began to breathe normally. It was going to be okay. You kept repeating that mantra in your head.
You opened the door before Maria could knock. "I heard you," you answered your unasked question.
"If you didn't sound so flustered on the phone, I'd joke about how creepy that is," she got you to smile. "Alright, what is it?" You waved her over to your desk and pointed to the letter. She put gloves on and picked it up. She read it over a few times. "Has anyone else touched this?" You shook your head.
"I was the only one to touch the letter, but Sarah may have touched the envelope." She nodded and placed the letter in an evidence bag.
"Okay, your fingerprints should still be in the system, so we can cross-reference yours on the letter," you rolled your eyes.
"You get arrested once, and it's all anybody talks about." The agent smirked.
"If I remember correctly, it was four times, and Fury was the first one to arrest you." You smiled and sat down on the couch.
"How's the big man? Still causing you headaches." Maria sat beside you, throwing her feet on the small table.
"Always. He misses you. Had to handcuff him to his chair when I told him you called and needed something." Now, that would have been a sight. You missed the man, too. There was a part of your childhood where you rebelled; not even Natasha's family could ring you in. It was a desperate attempt to get your parent's attention. Instead of getting their attention, you got the attention of Nick Fury. The man arrested you for breaking into an abandoned building and vandalism. You liked tagging buildings when you were younger. Since it was your first offense, you were sentenced to community service, which Fury oversaw.
He saw something in you that not a lot of people did. A young girl who was looking for someone to believe in. So when his agents brought you in three more times, he kept it off your record and became a mentor to you. If it wasn't for him and Natasha's family, you would not be the CEO of your own company. You owed them a lot.
"So, who do you owe money to?" You gasped at the accusation. "Look, you know I have to ask and look at every angel." You knew that but still it hurt.
"I don't own anybody anything," your headache was coming back full force.
"When was the last time you spoke to your parents?" You sighed, crossing your arms.
"3 years ago, almost 4. It was about the boat incident on Oneida." Maria nodded. "They've been calling me the past week, but I've ignored them."
"I will get a judge to sign off on your phone records and security camera. Hopefully, we can catch who dropped this off," she placed her hand on the back of your neck and squeezed it. "We'll figure out who did this," she promised. "It could also be a competitor. The deal you made with Stark has made headline news. Do you want me to assign agents to Wanda and the boys?" You shook your head.
"I don't want to worry them. I'll," you sighed and rubbed your hands across your face. I'll talk to them about it." She nodded, and you rested your head on her shoulder. Maria was similar to you. Her home life was not ideal, and it seemed Fury had the tendency to adopt strays and keep them underneath his wing. Unfortunately, she had to bail you and Natasha out of trouble every once in a while.
"How long have you been here?" She softly asked. You closed your eyes.
"I got in around 9," you answered. It would have been earlier, but Wanda held you hostage in bed, and it was very hard to say no to sleepy Wanda.
"You realize it's 11:30, right?" you groaned and nodded. "Go home, bean," she said. "Go home to Wanda and the boys. We'll take care of everything." You believed her. She was the deputy director and the leader of an impressive team. You trusted her with your life.
*    
When you closed the door to your house, you felt the weight on your shoulders leave. It felt easier to breathe. You threw your bag on the couch, took off your shoes, and made sure to set the house alarm. Walking to your room, you checked on the boys, who were fast asleep. Good. You kept walking and found Wanda fast asleep. Her hair framed around her head. The blankets were pulled up to her chin. The sight made you smile, and you stripped out of your clothes and climbed into bed beside her. Usually, you would shower and change into pajamas, but you wanted to be in the safety of your shared bed.
Trying to avoid waking her, you pulled back the covers and laid yourself next to Wanda. Your head in the crock of her neck, inhaling her sent. She smelt of lavender and soothed your throbbing headache. On instinct, she wrapped her arms around you. Most nights you held her, you loved the feeling of her in your arms. Sometimes you needed to be held. "My baby," she mumbled, still clearly asleep. You smiled and kissed her shoulder.
"Yours, my love," you whispered. "Yours now and forever." You weren't going to let anyone hurt your family.
*  
Oh, you were going to throw up. You desperately wanted to arrive with Wanda, but a video call with Tony, Shuri, and Thor was scheduled, and you could not reschedule it. The party officially started in two hours, but you wanted to show up early and help. Pumping yourself up, you knocked on the door with your free hand. The presents for the twins were in one hand, and your swimsuit, change of clothes, and a bottle of wine were in your backpack. The door opened. "Y/n," Vision said. Was he smiling at you?
"Vision," you forced a smile of your own.
"You're here!" You heard the thundering footsteps of the twins racing towards you.
"I'll take these," he took the presents right before Billy and Tommy threw themselves at you. "They've been on a sugar rush all morning." The man looked fondly at his sons, who were crushing you. Damn, where are they always this strong? They may break a rib. "Alright, boys," Vision chuckled. "Let her breathe." What the fuck was happening? Did you walk into a different timeline? Billy let go of you first, but Tommy kept hugging you.
"Happy birthday, boys," you ruffled Tommy's hair. "Are you excited for the party?"
"Yes!" Tommy said. "Let's go swimming." He grabbed onto your hand and began to drag you to the pool.
"Tommy," the boy froze at his father's tone. "You promised to help Tiffany in the kitchen. Go help her with your brother, then you can go in the pool." Tommy groaned and headed towards the kitchen, dragging his feet behind him. Billy rolled his eyes and followed his brother. Vision sighed. "They may send me to an early grave," There was a smile on his face.
"Oh, I can take these back," you reached for the presents, but he shook his head.
"I can take these to the table. Wanda is outside," you stared at the man as he left you in the entryway. You shook your head and walked over to the back door. Vision was right. Wanda was putting together a banner. Her back was to you. Quietly, you opened the door and walked over to her. She jumped when you wrapped your arms around her waist. The smell of her perfume helped you relax. Soon she relaxed in your arms.
"Hi baby," you whispered and kissed her cheek.
"How was the meeting?" She asked as she worked on the banner. You sighed.
"It was okay," you threw your bag in a chair and began to help her. "I think Thor has more energy than Tony." Wanda chuckled. You continued to place the letters together to spell 'Happy Birthday' in silence. Until a question was burning on your lips. You glanced at the house. "Is Vision okay?" You asked slowly. "He's acting strange, like Tommy hit him in the back of the head with a football." A smile slowly crept onto Wanda's face.
"No," she laughed. "He's been in a good mood since I got here," she shrugged. "I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth." You narrowed your eyes at the house. Something strange was happening here.
You hated to admit how much fun the party was. You spent a lot of your time being dragged around by the twins and involved in whatever game they wanted to play. They somehow convinced their father to play a game of chicken with you in the pool. You learned that the man would do anything to make his boys smile. It was annoyingly adorable.
The only issue you had was Tiffany. She cornered you in the kitchen when you made another pitcher of lemonade. Well, corned was a strong word, but she was interrogating you about your work and family.
Besides that, you enjoyed spending time with Wanda and meeting the parents of the twins' friends. It felt like you were part of the family. You sang Happy Birthday, ate cake, watched them open presents, and cuddled with Wanda while you watched Tommy and Billy run around with their friends.
Once the party was over and the last guest left, you grabbed a trash can and began picking up the backyard. It wasn't long till Vision joined. You held open the bag for him as he picked up bottles that missed the trash can. "You made their day by coming," he said, breaking the silence. I think they'll be talking about it all year." You stared at him, eyes squinting. Did I say something?"
"Vision, what the fuck is going on?" He seemed startled by your sudden outburst. "This is the most you've spoken to me since Wanda and I started dating." The man sighed. He walked over to the cooler and opened it. Returning to you, he handed you a beer. You watched him open it and offer you the bottle. You hit yours against his and opened it. You've never seen this man drink before. You really were in a weird timeline.
"I did not like you when you first started dating Wanda," you chuckled. Everyone with eyes knew that. "It was mostly my fault our marriage fell apart. I became complacent and did not realize what I had, and then she was gone." You frowned. Vision took another sip from the bottle. "And Billy and Tommy loved you. On my weekends, they would not stop talking about you." You understand now.
"I'm not here to steal your family, Vision," the man sighed.
"Well, I know that now," he said. "Billy helped me realize how unfair I was treating you. You always thought that boy was wise beyond his years. "So I am sorry. I hope one day you can forgive me." You weren't one to hold grudges, especially when the person was open and vulnerable with you.
"Water under the bridge, Vis," you said. "But thank you for being honest with me." He smiled and began to take down the remaining tables. Since it was a day full of confessions, you had one of your own. You took a sip of your beer. "I have a hypothetical question," he glanced at you while he laid the table on the grass. "How difficult is getting an Order of Protection in New York?" The man froze. "Hypothetically," you said again. Vision was a lawyer and part of the team for the district attorney. If anyone knew the process, it would be him.
"Am I that bad?" He joked. You rolled your eyes and mumbled, 'Jackass.' He chuckled and sipped his beer. "Hypothetically speaking, it can be filed in a criminal case or family court. Would this hypothetical order of protection be against a family member?" You crossed your arms.
"Hypothetically, yes," he sighed, watching his eyes look you up and down.
"Then hypothetically, you would need to file a petition that tells the judge and respondent what you would want," you nodded and took a step forward. "This hypothetical order of protection," you rolled your eyes. "Are Wanda and my sons in danger?"
"No," he gave you a look that he wasn't convinced. "No," you repeated. "Nothing will happen to them. I promise."
"Have you spoken to Wanda about this hypothetical order of protection?" You looked at the house and saw Wanda trying to get the twins to help clean up and put their toys away. She caught you staring, and she waved, but you saw the question in her gaze; 'Are you okay?' You nodded and waved back.
"I have not," he hummed.
"A little advice," you looked back at the man. "Tell her. She hates being lied to. She rather know the truth no matter how bad it is," you knew that. Sighing, you rang your hand through your hair. You felt his hand on your shoulder. "You are good for her."
"Thanks, Vis," you smiled. He nodded and began the original task of cleaning up. You finished your beer and threw the empty bottle in the trash. You placed your hands on your hips and looked around the backyard. Today was good. You hated to ruin it with your family bullshit.
*
"I am tired," Wanda slumped on the couch, not bothering to take off her shoes. You smiled, dropped your bag, and toed off your sneakers. Sitting by her feet, you unclipped her heels and dropped them to the floor. You massaged her calves and thighs. She groaned and flipped onto her back, letting her hair down from the ponytail braid.
"You did good, mama," you whispered. "A successful party if I say so." Wanda climbed onto your lap, her hands behind your head, playing with the hair. It was relaxing, and you felt your eyes closed.
"What were you and Vision talking about?" Your eyes snapped open, and you cringed.
"Can you not say your ex-husband's name while on my lap and the less-than-PG thoughts running through my head?" She laughed and rested her head in the crook of your neck. You ran her hand down her back, and she slumped against you. "I wanted some legal advice regarding my parents." The mention of your parents caused your girlfriend to tense up. She leaned back to look at you.
"Why ask Vision and not your lawyer?" Well, your lawyer was Melina, and you did not want to tell her what was happening. For the company, it was Carol. You learned very early on that mixing business and personal was messy.
"Because I was just looking for advice," she narrowed her eyes at you. "They've been calling me a lot."
"Why didn't you tell me?" You hated her tone. It made you feel like you were in trouble. You winced.
"They do this all the time when they want money," you said, feeling major deja vu when you were having a similar conversation with Natasha. You laid her down on the couch and hovered above her. "And I didn't want to worry you," Wanda sighed.
"What do you tell me all the time?" It was your turn to sigh.
"We are a team," you mumbled, kissed her cheek, and rested your forehead against hers. "I'm sorry."
"Are you okay?" Her eyes filled with worry and concern. You nodded. It was the truth. You were okay. "Is there anything else?"
"No," you said right away. The lie felt bitter on your tongue. She put her arms around your back and pulled you closer. When she first did this, you worried you would crush her. But she loved having you close. It was a physical reminder that you were hers, and she was yours. You kissed her shoulder. This was perfect. The little bubble of peace you both created was everything to you. You wouldn't change it for the world.
*    
"Wanda," she looked up from her notepad while she took her table's order. It was her manager, while another server was walking over to her. "It's your son's school," Wanda's heart plummeted. She apologized to her table and walked to her manager's office.
"Hello," she said once she was alone.
"Hi Wanda, it's Amanda." Oh, Wanda knew who she was. It was the receptionist who kept flirting with you. "Billy and Tommy haven't gotten picked up yet. We tried calling Vision, but it went right to voice mail."
"They are still at school," Wanda said slowly as if Amanda spoke a foreign language.
"Yes, ma'am. They are in the office, perfectly safe. Will you be in to pick them up, or will you send in someone else?" Wanda didn't miss her flirtatious tone but she was so stuck on the fact her sons weren't picked up from school on the day you said you would do it.
"I'll be right there," she told her and hung up before Amanda could respond. What was going on?
*   
When she frantically walked into the building, Wanda knew her boys were behind her. Bucky raised a questioning eyebrow but buzzed her through. It was rather comical when she ran right into Natasha. The collision caused the redhead to drop all her papers. "Wands, where is the fire?" She chuckled. "Isn't this how you fell in love with the boss? I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I'm spoken for." The memory always brought a smile to her face, but it tugged at her heart. Wanda and the boys helped pick up the papers. "Wait, I thought it was Y/n's day to pick up the little gremlins." She winked at the boys.
"It was, and clearly she didn't," Wanda handed her the papers she had picked up. So where is she?" Wanda hoped you forgot—that you got dragged into another meeting. Natasha's green eyes said something different. Her green eyes flickered to the trio in front of her and then to Bucky, who joined the group.
"She left about 45 minutes ago," she looked at Bucky, who nodded to confirm her story.
"Her phone is going right to voicemail," Billy added. Wanda watched your best friend's eyes turn stormy.
"Nat, what's wrong?" Natasha let out a shaky breath.
"Why don't we take the boys to the conference room?" she smiled. "I think the switch is still hooked up." The twins cheered and walked towards the conference room, leading the way. Natasha pulled out her phone and began to follow her sons, but Wanda stopped her.
"Who are you calling?" She glanced at the twins, who Bucky was now following.
"Maria Hill. She's-"
"An agent over at SHIELD," you spent one drunken night recanting all your stories with the agent and the red head. At the time it was funny but hearing Natasha say the agent's name made Wanda realize something terrible was happening. "Nat, what's going on?"
"I don't know," she put the phone to her ear. "But Maria will be our best bet." Oh, darling, what have you gotten yourself into?
It was the pain radiating from your neck and the side of your head that woke you up. Black dots covered your Vision, and you blinked a few times for them to disappear. You were bound to the chair in a room you didn't recognize. You yanked at the restraints, but they weren't moving. "I'd save your strength," the voice came from the corner of the room. You knew that voice.
"Tiffany," your throat was so dry. "What the fuck?" Vision's girlfriend walked out of the corner. She looked different from the party. Her hair was pinned up in a bun. No hair seemed to be out of place. Instead of her dress at the party, she wore black slacks and a red body suit. You remembered her face was dolled up with makeup, not bare. She gripped your chin and forced your head back. You winced. "What are you doing?" You hated how much your voice shook.
"How good is your Greek mythology?" Was she speaking with an accent? It felt like there was cotton in your eyes. "What is the mythological creature that is a serpent with nine heads?" You racked your brain for the answer. "Come on, sweetheart. Do you need another hint?" You tried to swallow, but you couldn't. Fuck, you needed water. "If you cut the head off two more, grow it back." It clicked. Tiffany smiled. "Say it."
"H-HYDRA," you whispered.
"Say it louder," she demanded, nails dug into your skin.
"HYDRA," you said. She dropped her hand, and your head fell forward. "What do you want with me?" You kept your head down.
"In due time, darling. Rest. The real fun will begin soon."
-
Don't worry Part 3 will be out next week :D
214 notes · View notes
imthenatynat · 8 days
Note
hey! Could you make reader and Natasha as parents? reader being that type of mother (or another gender I don't know) who takes her children to all their games and teaches them how to play tennis and Natasha being the worried mother who is afraid of their children getting hurt
one-shot of forty, love
synopsis: a combination of the different requests above, and below, of natasha and R as parents :) lmk if you guys are interested in seeing more of these two!
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natasha romanoff x tennis player! reader
word count: 3.5k words
warning: smut below, skip if you're under 18 or uncomfortable reading!
masterlist
“almost hit it, a little closer!” 
thwock. 
“there we go! you can do it, let’s do a last forehand, sweetheart.”
thwock. 
“another!” this time, the voice came from the tiny girl far across the court, shouting out to you as you kept the last of the tennis balls. you shouted back that it was nearly time for dinner, and that you didn’t want to make her mother wait, but she was insistent, just like her mother was. 
you relented, sighing as you prepared the serve, and hit. but this time, the hit was just a slightly bit ill-timed, off the pace of the usual strength you would serve to a kid her size. but she was already running, and before you could call out that it was going to be too far for her to hit, she had dived, trying to hit the ball desperately with her racket. unfortunately, she lost her balance, and the next thing you remembered was your own feet carrying you as fast as they could to the other side of the court, rushing to the aid of the crying child. 
your daughter instinctively reached out for your arms as you bent down to pick her up, face already red from her tears. she was in as much shock as you were, as you looked down towards her scraped knee, the abrasion causing little trickles of blood to run across the broken skin. natasha’s going to kill me, you thought, as you began rocking the little girl and apologising profusely. 
“i’m sorry, so sorry, my love, mummy’s serve was too far,” you consoled her, her fingers gripping the ends of your shirt as tightly as she could. 
you let her calm down for a bit, before taking another look at the injury. “is it bad…mummy?”
you looked back up at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “nothing a band-aid and a kiss can’t fix.”
with her lips still trembling, you brought a bottle of water to wash off any debris from the abrasion, and began patching the wound up. then, right after, your lips landed on the band-aid, and said, “there, boo boo is gone. my brave girl.”
her mood considerably lifted when you offered her a piggyback ride all the way home, and when the both of you walked past an ice-cream shop, you offered her a sweet treat in exchange for her not mentioning a word to natasha. 
“you’re both late for dinner,” a voice called out from the kitchen as you entered the house, the smells from dinner in the oven already enticing you further and further in. 
you looked towards your daughter nervously, her mouth still a little sticky with leftover chocolate, but her smile back towards you indicated that she was intending to keep her promise. but you didn’t even get a chance to say another word to her, for in the next moment, natasha had rounded the corner, carrying a deep dish of lasagna in thick oven mitts. she glanced towards the both of you, and beyond glancing at the sweat that glistened on your daughter’s forehead, her keen sense of observation from her years as a reporter instinctively caught the anomaly in the form of the band-aid. 
the girl happily munched on with dinner, as she watched in curiosity, and slight amusement, natasha angrily pulling you away to the kitchen again. 
“what did we just talk about yesterday? what did i just tell you?” 
you pursed your lips, head hung low as you kicked the floor ashamedly. “that i was training her…a little bit tough.”
“too tough!” she exclaimed, hands on her hips this time. she was a sight to behold, nine months pregnant with your second baby, face scrunched in annoyance, but still looking absolutely glowing. it was unfair just how beautiful she was, even standing a head shorter than you were and stance ready to bite off your head. “and look what’s happened! she injured herself!”
on the other hand, natasha was fighting off the urge to forgive you right away, as you pouted and reached out for her hands, saying, “sorry. i promise it won’t happen again. please don’t be angry, please…?”
you watched her roll her eyes, before sighing. “you are such a child.”
“sorry,” you said in a cuter tone. you were playing to her weaknesses.
“let’s just eat dinner. i’m starving. baby is too.” you smiled, knowing you won when natasha allowed you to kiss her in appreciation for her forgiveness.
afterwards, when natasha still had worry lines pertinent on her forehead as she inspected the scrape on your daughter’s knee while the three of you watched a movie, you caught yourself being webbed into a danger zone again. you knew better than to say it’s not that bad to a very hormonal, very pregnant woman who was fighting the urge to scream i told you so at you. 
so when your wife got up for a toilet break later on, and was making her way back, she caught you on your knees in front of the girl, speaking lowly to her. “–you have to tell her, okay? you have to tell mama that mummy is very sorry, and to not be angry at her. tell mama that if she stays angry at mummy, mummy will be very sad.”
that alone was enough for natasha to finally forgive you, almost scoffing with how cute she found the scene in front of her was. 
natasha was waiting outside when you shut your daughter’s room, safely tucked into bed, injury forgotten as she hugged her teddy to sleep. you raised your eyebrows in question. usually she would have already been in bed, the strain on her back too much to remain sitting and standing for long. however, this time, even though her features looked exhausted, she came to you. 
you instantly knew what was bothering her when her arms seeked out for yours, just like her daughter’s did. you enveloped her in an embrace, when she muttered, “i’m in so much pain right now.”
nearing the end of her third trimester, you knew this second pregnancy was taking a heavier toll on her than your first one had. most nights you felt terrible that you couldn't help to shoulder even an ounce of the physical pain she was enduring by herself. but you could help her, at least.
“turn around,” you guided her to have her back towards you, and natasha knew what was coming. still, when your hands found the bump underneath her, and gently lifted it to rest the weight on you instead, it didn’t stop the cry of relief from escaping her lips. her body instinctively rested against yours as well, feet thanking the heavens for the lightness she was suddenly experiencing. 
“i love you, i love you so much,” she whimpered, and you kissed her neck tenderly as you muttered that it was the least you could do. 
you held on as the both of you kept each other in that intimate embrace, when natasha muttered, “i had such a bad day today too, and with the baby being like this, i’m sorry i got annoyed at you for nora’s scrape.”
“it’s alright, it was my fault,” you replied, “served too hard. tell me about your day, my love.”
“i–” natasha suddenly felt tears springing to her eyes, hearing the soothing tone of your voice. but she pressed on, “–jenny, from the crime division, she yelled at me today. said i gave her the wrong tip-off, led her down the wrong path and losing the lead. in front of everyone in the department. and you know what’s the worst part?”
you kept silent, feeling small droplets of tears on your skin already, “...i just stood there, and took it. stood there…and i cried. like i was a new hire, an intern, for fuck’s sake. i let her step all over me like that.”
she felt your lips on her cheek this time, kissing away the angry and frustrated streaks down her face. “natasha, it’s normal to feel like this. she was being a bitch, and very unprofessional.”
“still! i…i…stupid hormones,” she cried, clearly more vexed with herself than anything else. 
but you were there to reassure her that she didn’t deserve to berate her own body for having heightened emotions. “her outburst reflects more on her as a person than it does on you. you did nothing wrong, everyone makes mistakes, and it wasn’t your fault she lost the lead. your feelings are valid, and there is nothing wrong with crying, baby. with or without the hormones, you shouldn’t be embarrassed for reacting in that way, and i’m sure your colleagues all know that she’s unreasonable for lashing out at you like that.”
natasha didn’t look convinced, pent-up emotions still simmering in her chest, and you knew it. she believed you, but not so much of herself. so you kissed her again, to gain her attention, and coaxed her to a hot bath that the two of you would share, knowing that it would alleviate both her physical and mental ailments.
– 
the hot water was calming, almost liberating, to almost every fibre of her body. with the water taking the weight off the shoulders, she found it easier to relax against you, the skin to skin contact soothing her even more. she was lucky that she still had you, even after the day she had, she thought.
“better?” your smile made her mirror one herself, nodding as you began massaging shampoo into her wet hair. 
“better.”
with your fingers in her hair, her body almost weightless in the water, natasha could finally let her guard down. she could finally tell you, something that you knew had been bothering her for a while. 
“i feel like this one is going to be bigger than nora was,” she quietly said. 
“i think so too.”
she sighed when your hands came to massage her shoulders. “...what if my body doesn’t return…to my usual size…after this? what if i can’t lose the weight?”
the massage stopped briefly, you sighing behind her. “you know it won’t matter to me. as long as you and the baby are healthy.”
“i know, i know,” you had told her, even in her first pregnancy, that you didn’t care if her body changed, if her looks changed, after the pregnancy. it was only understandable, you thought, for all that she was doing for you both by carrying the child, “but i just–i feel–i won’t be attractive to you anymore, after all this. i’ll just be a mom, and nothing more. what if the station ousts me, because i can’t chase around stories at their beck and call anymore? because i have to be home early most nights, to pick up the kids, because i can’t work so many weekends in a row, because i have to spend time with my family?”
“natasha,” you quelled her worries, “first, you shouldn’t feel guilty for making more time for your family, for being a mom. besides, we can always afford to hire help, and if i don’t have matches, i’ll be there to attend to the kids. you’re amazing, you’ve always been amazing, the station can’t kick you out just because you decided to have a family. if they do…you know i’ll have a strongly-worded email from my team sent to them in the next second. and if you do decide to take a little time off to spend more time with the kids, i’ll support you, i’ll support us, no matter what. whatever you want, i’ll be there to support your decisions, i’ll be there to back you up through it all.”
“and second…” slowly, natasha felt the hands that were on her shoulders travel lower and lower, “...only a madman would ever think that you are any less attractive, any less sexy, with the beautiful body you are graced with from pregnancy. in fact, i think i find you even more sexy with how you looked after giving birth to nora, and if possible, even sexier than that now that you’re pregnant again.” 
your fingers had entered the soft, spongy walls that they had memorised their way around, working expertly at natasha’s gasp of the intrusion. your other hand on her breasts, natasha let out a soft whimper when they began working miraculously together, her brain already turning to mush. “i must be insane to ever have the thought of you being unattractive cross my mind. when that happens, shoot me.”
another finger entered her, your mouth travelling from her neck, to the valley of her breasts, pressing open-mouthed kisses until she felt them latch on to her nipples, making eye contact with her as you let out a sly smirk, sucking. natasha broke eye contact when another thought crossed her head, “you’re crazy. so many years together, then so many years apart, don’t tell me–don’t tell me–you’ve never found anyone else that caught your eye. a player, a reporter, the celebrities that come to your matches…i’ve seen them–trying to get your attention–your number. i’ve seen–”
natasha was cut off with a yelp as you moved to the other breast, biting down slightly. “–the way they look at you. and it’s hard to get angry, when i know i would do the same, because you’re so…hot.”
you finally let go, letting up a small chuckle as your fingers quickened their pace. “natty, natty, natty.”
“what’s so funn–”
another gasp escaped her throat as you found her g-spot, where she needed you most. “–is it so hard to believe that you’re the only one i want, the only one i’ve ever wanted? nobody else comes close, you are all my eyes can see.”
she was writhing and moaning in your hold now, fuelling the ego that had been steadily growing as you started worshipping your wife. with the bathwater sloshing and her hands gripping the edge of the bathtub, you whispered, “careful. we don’t want to wake the baby, do we? let mama have her fun for a bit.”
“oh my god.” at the final roll of her hips, “i’m gonna cum.”
“then let go, sweetheart.”
the moan natasha let out sounded almost otherworldly, earth-shatteringly delicious to your ears, as you felt her squeeze in and crumble around you, trapping your fingers in her while she came undone, head in the space between your neck and your shoulder, eyes shut in pleasure. you met her lips with yours, assuring her, “i love you, i love you, i love you.”
it was almost unfair how ethereal she looked, post-orgasm and looking up with you with her eyes glazed. you could only meet her with the kisses she so badly craves after nights like these, each time marvelling about how pretty your wife looked in your arms. 
“you don’t have to come for the match tomorrow if your back still hurts, baby,” you reassured her later on, after carrying her out of the tub and helping her dress, as natasha slowly dozed to sleep with how tired she was, and how comfortable she felt. 
but your words seemed to stir her awake. “no, it’s okay. i’ll come. i want to come.”
your smile to her was almost patronising, to which she scoffed at and held your hand to drag you into bed. “i’m serious. i’ll be there.”
“it’s only a semifinal.”
“still important to me.”
“tomorrow’s your only day off this week. don’t you want to spend it resting?”
“i want to spend it supporting you.”
“and if i don’t win?”
“still important to me. all the more important to me. means you won’t be away for the finals in france, means you can be with me for a few more weeks until your next tournament.”
at your sigh of relief, and contentment, natasha let the ends of her lips curl upon feeling you kiss her cheeks lovingly. “i don’t deserve you. i’ll make sure you’re comfortable tomorrow. it’s going to be a long game.”
sleepily, she replied, “you better.”
it was your daughter that won your attention first, as you approached the stands after the semifinals win to thank the crowd. her little hands reaching for your embrace from the first row, natasha watched as your eyes positively beamed as she felt you take over her hold from her. the crowd roared even louder, if possible, seeing nora balanced on your hips and celebrating your win with you. it was a scene to behold, and one that natasha knew would be etched in her mind for a lifetime. 
this was all she ever wanted. this was all she could ever ask for. even as you invited her down to the court to take pictures with your family, even as the photographer almost blinded her with the flash as you wrapped your arms around her and your daughter.
thumbing over the printed photograph of the match earlier, safe in your arms in bed again, natasha couldn’t help but realise it; you really did only have eyes for her. your team and coach were in the frame along with the family, and in the candid shot that had become natasha’s favourite, your eyes were only on hers, gazing at her lovingly as she kissed your daughter’s cheek in the shot.
said daughter was beside her in that moment, the skies outside thundering loudly and her crawling into bed between the both of you just minutes before. her heart pooled into a puddle when she woke up to you comforting her and wiping away her tears. she looked almost exactly like natasha, so alike that she felt she was given a second chance with her life in nora. her chance to love you right. 
she only felt you again a few hours later, returning from bringing nora back to her room after she decided she wasn’t scared anymore, and accidentally falling asleep holding her hand in her own room. you slipped into bed with her, and reached for her touch again. 
your eyes were closed, but you weren’t asleep, sleepily rubbing circles on natasha’s back. you had earlier given her a massage and spoiled her rotten, even though you had a match earlier in the day, even though she knew you must have been more than exhausted.
“baby,” she called out, readjusting her position, “i know you said we could have as many kids as i am willing to push out of me.”
“mm, of course. we could even have an army if you wanted to.”
“well, if you ever catch me saying that i want one more after birthing this one, please slap me.”
there was a mirthless chuckle from your end, when suddenly, your hands were caught in a death grip, natasha nearly crushing your fingers. shooting up out of bed, you screamed, “ouch! natasha, why–”
then you saw it. but even if you hadn’t seen it in the dark of the night, you definitely felt it; the rush of wetness that had gushed onto the bed. natasha had her eyes shut in pain, still, allowing the contraction to pass, and you knew they were definitely not false alarms this time. her water had broke. 
“okay, okay,” you had been through this once before, but the panic, and anxiety, settled in all the same. “okay, you stay right here, i’m getting the hospital bag, then i’ll call the hospital, and then i’m calling steve to come over to pick up nora, just…wait here.”
“can’t–really–go–anywhere,” natasha gritted her teeth. she sounded murderous. 
you scooped her up just minutes later, settling into your arms as you carried her bridal style, just like you had the night of your wedding, and so many nights after. only this time, natasha was struggling to control her breathing, trying not to suffocate you with how hard she was holding onto you. she couldn’t wait to get the baby out and get it over and done with already. 
“aaargh!” she screamed as you carried her through the hospital doors, the team already prepared to wheel her in to prep her. still, she refused to let go of your hand, insisting on you staying by her side even as she changed into her hospital gown, and especially as she faced contraction after contraction. 
you were almost worried she was going to destroy your playing hand, but thought it was worth it; ending your career to ensure she safely gave birth. it was a fair tradeoff. you even joked, “guess i’m not going to france for the final after all.”
if natasha wasn’t in so much pain she would have strangled you. you were supposed to catch a flight the next day. “if you even dare step out of this room before i pop this baby out, i am divorcing you, you hear me?”
the doctors struggled to hide their amused grins, as you quickly reached for your phone to call your manager to cancel the flight and the match upon hearing her words.
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imthenatynat · 8 days
Text
Lena Luthor x Reader
Forgotten- Angst and Fluff, [One Shot]
Lena has forgotten about Reader’s birthday when she’s swimming in a sea of work at L-Corp. When confronted about it, Lena snaps at Reader and leaves them feeling dejected. The next day Lena figures out why they came to her office last night. How will she fix the mistake she made? 
Just Plane Fun- Fluff and Humor, [One Shot]
It’s Lena and Reader’s honeymoon. The thing is they have to travel to get to their destination and its Reader’s first time on a plane…
Being There- Grief and Fluff, [One Shot]
Reader deals with the aftermath of losing a loved one. Determine to shut the door to their past, they keep to themself and keep everything locked inside. One night, Lena catches them all alone at their desk and in tears. 
Rainbow- Fluff, Love at First Sight, [2/2]
Part 2
Lena never believed in love at first sight. As a Luthor, she barely believed in familial love. So why is it that the moment she saw Reader painting a portrait for a little boy, everything she came to know is suddenly questioned?
Mrs. and Mrs. Luthor- Humor, Violence, Graphic Injuries, Smut, Explicit Language, 18+ Audience, [3/3]
Part 2, Part 3
Reader and Lena are assassins that have been contracted to kill each other after a mission gone wrong. Both are equally matched and as the fight continues on, it’s becoming increasingly clear that the love for each other is still there.
Just Friends- Fluff, Humor, Unintentional Pining, [2/2]
Part 2
Lena is Reader’s best friend. They’ve been so for years now. And at a sleepover, how is it that Reader can just keep being friends with her when there’s something more?
Wasted- Drinking, Humor, Smut, Spanking, 18+ Audience, [One Shot]
Reader gets incredibly drunk while out with their friends. It results in being escorted to the police department. When Lena picks them up, she warns them that the next morning, they would be punished in the most delicious of ways.
Protected- Humor, Flirting, Violence, [2/2]
Part 2
Reader is an undercover bodyguard tasked with keeping Lena safe while presenting her newest invention. Lena already knows that Reader seems a bit out of place, with their noticeable muscles and brilliant smile. Will Reader be able to protect her from not just a threat, but an orchestrated attack? 
Blunder- Fluff, Teasing, Stern!Lena, [One Shot]
Reader messes up for the last time, and they’re convinced that Lena will fire them. When it doesn’t happen and Lena instead gives them another chance, will Reader be able to rise to the occasion and prove themself to the prominent CEO?
Claimed- Smut, Fluff, Collaring, 18+ Audience, [One Shot]
Lena and Reader both decide to try the use of a collar in the bedroom. The way Lena keeps looking at them, like she wants to devour their whole once the collar is in place, makes Reader feel like the most beautiful person on the planet 
Awkward- Humor, Fluff, Embarrassment, [One Shot]
Reader often fantasizes about their boss with the striking green eyes and dark hair that still managed to shine in the light. How could they gather the nerve to ask her out when one, they could barely speak to her, and two, they could barely walk on their own two feet. 
Edge- Smut, Explicit Language, Teasing, 18+ Audience, [2/2]
Part 2
Lena decides to take matters into her own hands after Reader interrupts a video call. After warning them previously not to do it again, Lena punishes Reader by teasing them. And for days on end.
Flirt- Teasing, Kissing, Mild Embarrassment, [2/2]
Part 2
Lena knows that there is more to Reader than just their physique. Not that she was complaining of course. She made it her personal goal to see just how red Reader can get when flirted with enough.
Disoriented- Kidnapping, Hostage Situation, Angst, Reader Death, [8/8]
Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8
Reader wakes up tied and alone with a mysterious woman that keeps asking them questions about a project that they’ve been working on. Reader wants to defy everything the woman says with every fiber of their being, but something about her green eyes and sad expression draws them in.
Asleep- Humor, Fluff, Drinking, Dirty Talk, 18+ Audience, [One Shot]
The best part about Lena? When she drinks and starts saying a whole bunch of things she won’t remember by tomorrow morning. 
Secrets- Fluff, Humor, Date Night, [One Shot]
Reader is a werewolf with an incredible power: they can talk to dogs. This becomes incredibly convenient when they’re out on a date with Lena and her puppy, who’s full of excited energy, comes over to meet them. 
Jealous- Angst, Grief, Character Death, Cancer, [One Shot]
Reader is diagnosed with an incurable cancer. The last thing they want is for Lena to spend all her time with them and watch them die. Someone has to give, and Reader takes it upon themself to make the hard decision.
Stuck- SMUT, Teasing, Explicit Language, 18+ Audience, [One Shot]
Reader comes home to find Lena handcuffed to the bed and struggling to escape. With a smile, Reader makes themself comfortable as they enjoy where the night goes. 
Cheated- Angst, Violence, Fluff, Humor, Some Smut, Explicit Language, 18+ Audience, [15/15]
Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15
Reader is framed for a crime they didn’t commit. Imprisoned and abandoned by their friends and wife, the only person they have left is Kara, who works tirelessly to prove that they’re innocent. With their world flipped upside down, will Reader be able to survive the trial they’re in?
Changed- Angst, Violence, Mentions of Death, PTSD and Anxiety, Fluff, Humor, [2/2]
Part 2
Reader is a soldier returning home after surviving a horrific accident while on the battlefield. They had to face demons the likes of which almost made them want to give up. That is until they remember a promise that they made to a certain person. 
Trouble- Humor, Fluff, Some Angst, [One Shot]
Reader is married with a son, and it would seem that their beautiful boy loves to stay in trouble. To make matters worse, Lena gets in trouble right along with him. At least there’s never a dull moment with them in their life. 
Scared- Angst, Fluff, Comfort, Affection, [One Shot]
Lena is mad with Reader. She’s so disappointed and upset that she can’t talk to them right now. Reader wants to make amends, but when Lena avoids them, doesn’t come home that night, nor is seen the next day, Reader assumes the worst. Will Lena decide that she doesn’t want to be with them anymore?
Not Good Enough- Angst, Hurt, Rejection, Extremely Negative Feelings, Drinking, [3/3]
Part 2 Part 3
Reader loves Lena, and it would seem that everyone knows, including the CEO herself. Maggie was always a good friend, so of course, she would take it upon herself to instill a sense of confidence into Reader when they’re too shy to ask Lena out. Eventually they do work up the courage to ask, only to find Lena and Kara in a heated embrace in Lena’s office. The scene is like a shot to the heart for Reader, and they leave to attend to their emotional wounds the only way they knows how. 
All I Wanted- Angst, Some Fluff, Broken Heart, Reconciliation, Happy Ending(?), [3/3]
Part 2, Part 3
After a failed relationship leaves Reader empty, they decide to play a concert with their band to try and take their mind off of it. It doesn’t work however, not when their ex shows up to the very concert they play in. 
Silk- Hair Play, Love, Intimacy, [One Shot]
Sometimes loving a certain Luthor takes many forms, including playing with her hair. 
Advantage- Angst, Rumors, Insecurities, [One Shot]
Reader is all the talk in the office: everyone believes that they’re with Lena for her money, and Reader can’t tell if Lena believes the rumors or not. The thing is that they don’t want to be with Lena just for her money. She deserves so much more than that.
Loved- Family Problems, Intrusive Thoughts, Reassurance, [One Shot]
Reader has had enough with their family, with the fighting, and with the constant feeling of chaos in their life. Left feeling alone and done, one night they’re in  L-Corp when someone they’d least expect would be their shoulder to cry on. 
Family- Pregnant!Reader, Fluff, Humor, Reconciliation, [One Shot]
Reader moves to National City and in a surprise twist of fate, meets up with Lena, who they hadn’t seen for years. The history between Reader and Lena is still there, along with another growing surprise about Reader that takes Lena off guard.   
Unholy Heart- Vampire!Reader, Vampire Hunter!Lena Luthor, Smut, Fluff, Graphic Violence, Gore, Angst, Graphic Descriptions of Injuries, NON-sexual and NON-drug Related Human Trafficking, 18+ Audience, [20/?]
Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20
Reader is a journalist at Catco. They’re just like everyone else except for one major secret: they’re a vampire. No one knows until one fateful late night at Catco. Lena catches you, and that’s when they find out that their boss is more than just a CEO. They work together on a story that investigates why people are dying and disappearing without a trace.
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imthenatynat · 8 days
Text
Unholy Heart Part 19
Requested by Anonymous
Pairings: Lena Luthor x Reader
Tags: Vampire!Reader, Vampire Hunter!Lena Luthor, Graphic Descriptions of Injuries, Explicit Sexual Content, Blood, Intense Gore, Violence, Explicit Language, Blood Drinking, Non-Sexual and Non-Drug Related Human Trafficking, Fluff, Smut
Additional Notes: In part 18, Reader brutally kills a whole bunch of police officers. This is your warning to not read that part if it will affect you negatively
Everything Taglist: @sammy90682 @nobody13 @owloftheshadows @captain-josslett @camslightstories @worldovart @finleyfray @acertainredhead @sammm9068 @reginassecretlover
“Don’t do this, Y/n,” Lena said, her voice beseeching.
Breaths were sawing in and out of you harshly as you stared at her. The night air was chillier than normal, so Lena could see steam wafting from your nostrils and parted lips with every breath that you took. Blood was still dripping off you thickly. You looked crazed and feral with your unwavering grip still wrapped around Alex's throat.
“Baby,” she began again, and she watched as your face went from wild to surprise at the term of endearment. Some clarity bled into you as your eyebrows furrowed. That was a good sign. That meant that you were still in there.
“I need you to breathe, and I need you to focus on my voice.”
You blinked slowly as you rapidly shook your head to try and clear the fog that blanketed your brain. You wanted nothing more than to tear into the throat you held. You wanted to engorge yourself in the blood you could feel beating just under the skin, but the sea of green, that were bright with fear and desperation, made you hesitate. Lena. Just looking at her was enough to clear the haze a little.
You swallowed thickly as you took those breaths that she wanted you to take. Focus. Focus on her. Focus on her heartbeats, her breathing, her smell. You used everything to try and shake yourself free from the darkness, but it was barely working. You shook your head harder and slapped the side of your face with your free hand. The pain did very little to help.
“L-Lena?” you stuttered as you looked at her.
“That’s it. That’s it sweetie,” she encouraged gently. “Come back to me.”
“I’m trying,” you whimpered.
It was hard. Too hard, you realized suddenly. You always wondered how humans became vicious monsters that roamed the streets at night. You always wondered how someone was capable of such carnage. You remember all those nights you spent looking at crime scene and autopsy photos. How was someone capable of tearing people apart limb from limb? You couldn’t even imagine allowing yourself to become so depraved.
After tonight, you had your answer. This was how.
All it took was one time. It was just one time to succumb to the instincts inside, and then there was no going back. You could feel it trying to pull you in even as you tried to free yourself from its clutches. Your vision was rimmed with darkness, and it winked in and out as you focused on Lena. Lena could see your pupils fluctuating as you tried to regain control of yourself, the inner battle making you grunt as you slapped your head a few more times with a shaky, blood covered hand.
Disjointed memories of the last several minutes flashed disconcertingly in your head. You killed all those men, and you’d done so with excitement and glee. You reveled in the violence. You felt the pleasure of the kill. Your lust for vengeance was satiated when you saw that no one could hurt Lena again, but with that satiation came the desire to maim and kill. Everyone in front of you needed to die by your hand. That was the thought that whispered seductively through your brain. You didn’t stop it, and though you didn’t actively fight against it, you don’t think it would have made a difference in the end. This was going to happen at some point. It was inevitable. You could pretend, and act, and lie to yourself and to others all you wanted. It didn’t erase the fact that you just slaughtered a group of people in cold blood. All that time thinking that you weren’t capable of doing what you did all came to a head. Tears came to your eyes as you looked at the dead bodies that surrounded you.
“What have I done?” you whispered as horror seized your chest.
Tender hands gently took you by the cheeks and your gaze pivoted to Lena. Her hands caressed your bloodied face as she watched the tears fall. Your pupils were still dilated but not as severely as they were before. More awareness was trickling into you and Lena saw your wide, scared eyes shining with tears.
“Don’t focus on that,” she told you firmly.
How could you not? How could you not focus on the six lives you ended?
“Lena, what have I done??” you cried out, your voice rising in pitch as panic started to overtake you.
Lena took a deep breath as she met your eyes. “You’re choking her,” she said succinctly, the words said with enough stress to make you listen. “Okay? You’re choking Alex, Y/n. You need to let her go.”
The moment Lena mentioned it was the moment you realized that she was in your hand. Alex’s face was a horrible shade of red. She stopped struggling a few seconds ago, and she hung limply in your grasp as gasping breaths left her. You could feel her pulse beneath your fingertips. You could feel the way her heart beat sluggishly inside of her. With her blood so close to the surface of her skin, you could smell just how delicious she was. You wanted to let her go, but you wanted to devour her more. Lena watched, in dread, as your fangs elongated again, your lips curling back as your pupils began to expand.
“I can’t stop it.”
“You can and you will. Fight it, Y/n.”
You nodded desperately as you focused intensely on yourself. When the darkness pushed against you, you pushed back. Lena watched as you struggled, a cry of pain leaving your lips as you forced the darkness back within you. Your teeth went back to normal, and so did your pupils. It felt as though you were being torn apart from the inside out. The more you fought, the more it hurt. It took a lot of strength to release your grip on Alex’s throat, but you did with a clench of your teeth. When Alex was dropped, she landed on the street harshly. She took a gasping breath before she immediately dissolved into hard coughs. You squeezed your eyes closed as you held the sides of your head, your hands covering Lena’s. Something raged inside of you when you released Alex. It snarled, its strong desires for you to finish what you started, apparent. Rage filled you, and you could feel the moment the darkness shifted its attention from Alex to Lena. She was too close to you. Lena was in danger, and you could feel yourself slipping.
“Lena…” you whispered as you stared at her.
Alex struggled to her feet as she rubbed at her neck. A horrible purple and red bruise was already developing, and it was in the shape of your hand.
“Do something. Please do something!” you begged. Your pupils were expanding, and your world was about to go dark again. If you blacked out, you were going to tear Alex and Lena apart limb from limb. You couldn’t have that on your conscience too.
Lena nodded, her expression sorrowful and full of remorse. She pulled you close to place a kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry, baby, this is going to hurt.”
That was your only warning before Lena snapped your neck. You felt a flash of pain before things went dark for a different reason entirely. Alex yelped and covered her face with her hands when she saw your neck twist in a way that it shouldn’t. Lena caught your body and hooked her arms beneath your legs to pick you up and carry you.
Alex parted her sweaty fingers to look through them shakily. The last 30 minutes was going to require at least two packs of beer to process. Her mind was still reeling from the fact that you, her best friend that she’d known for years, was a vampire. Then, she watched you murder her squad of officers. You’d almost killed her too, and Alex almost pissed herself when she thought that you were going to kill her in the most gruesome way possible, but surprisingly, she wasn’t scared of you. Up until now, she never would have guessed that you were the very thing that the NCPD had orders to exterminate.
“Did you kill her?” Alex asked as she slowly lowered her hands from her face. Lena raised an eyebrow as she looked at you.
“No. I only have 10 minutes tops before this heals itself. She’s not dead. Just subdued. Are you okay?”
Alex looked around at the blood and gore. She shrugged. “Ask me that tomorrow.”
“Can we trust you?”
“What?” Alex asked as she looked at her unsurely.
Lena turned to face her fully, her features hardening into stone.
“Can. We. Trust. You?” she enunciated harshly. She didn’t have time for games. What Alex did next determined whether or not you and Lena were going to have to leave town. She didn’t have the energy to clean this all up. This was extensive, even for her.
Alex seemed to understand the levity of the question and she nodded resolutely. “That’s my best friend in your arms.”
“A friend that you just discovered is a vampire,” Lena pointed out.
“Yeah, that was a plot twist,” Alex replied as she rubbed her throat, but she shrugged. “I may not have known, but they did such a good job with hiding it, that I wouldn’t have figured it out regardless. I wouldn’t have given them the information I had if I knew any of this was going to happen. I hope that they’ll be okay. I’ll clean this up and scrub the footage.”
“And Edge?”
“Is he dead?”
Lena nodded.
“I’ll take care of that too. Don’t worry. Please just take care of Y/n.”
Lena nodded, satisfied with Alex’s answers before she took off with you in her arms. She super sped back to her penthouse without any further delay. You were going to wake up soon and she needed to find that serum. If she could suppress your thirst, it would help you immensely. Lena looked at you with sadness in her eyes. Your eyelashes rested heavily on your cheeks as you lay deathly still in her arms. Lena heard what you said. You were tired of fighting. You were tired in general. She couldn’t imagine what you struggled with by yourself during all this time, but Lena wasn’t going to let you fight by yourself anymore. You had her heart, and Lena couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when she fell for you, but she fell hard, and she was going to ensure that you knew that you weren’t alone anymore.
Part 20
6 notes · View notes
imthenatynat · 13 days
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Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 6
Tumblr media
Fandom;
Mean Girls (2024)
Pairings:
Regina George x Reader
Summary:
The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.
Warnings;
Underage smoking, homophobia.
Parts;
Part1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6
It had been 2 days since the camping trip ended, 4 days since you last heard anything from Janis, and approximately 3 days since you kissed Regina George, and Regina George kissed you back. Not that you were counting.
The morning after, she had woken up before you and was already packing your campsite away before you had the chance to speak to her. Gretchen, Karen and Shane had already found you and you had to walk back to the meeting point as a group. Regina was back to being all over Shane again, she spent most of the walk back draped over his shoulder. She didn’t try and make the usual snarky comments towards you, she just ignored you entirely.
Back to being invisible I guess.
You sat alone on the coach journey back. Regina was sat with Gretchen and Karen again. You tried to steal a few pleading glances at her but she never met your eyes.
Your apartment feels emptier that usual when you get back. You manage to avoid thinking about the whole situation all weekend, busying yourself with video games and sleep to try and avoid spontaneously combusting from anxiety at the thought of going to school on Monday. The floor of your apartment is littered with takeaway containers, you don’t have the mental or physical energy to cook this weekend.
When Monday morning rolls round, you sort of wish you’d spontaneously combusted because it’d be much less messy than the eventual argument with Janis would be.
You’re not sure who you’re more anxious to see. It’s likely Regina will go back to ignoring your entire existence so it’s not like anything dramatic would happen. You hope.
You sigh and drag your aching body out of bed in a desperate attempt to shake off the sleep. You have a quick shower to wash away the depression of the past weekend and throw on some jeans and a T-shirt. You make sure you remember to pick up your headphones, they’re likely to be needed today.
You grab your car keys and open the car door. To your surprise, the car actually starts first time.
On the drive there you hope you hit every red light possible, or maybe your car breaks down. Anything so you don’t have to face Regina, or Janis.
Usually Janis would come over at the weekend. She thinks it’s cool you live alone and you usually spend the time playing video games together, getting drunk, smoking or just generally hanging out. Janis was the first person, apart from family that you’d told about being a lesbian. She was the first one to react positively at least. She came out to you a week later.
Because you spent so much time together you thought you might have a crush on her. She was cute, and you enjoyed spending time together. It still makes you cringe when you remember her kissing you one drunken night. You both agreed that it wasn't a romantic attraction and luckily managed to laugh it off and go back to normal. Especially since Janis had admitted to being in love with someone else who didn’t feel the same way.
Imagine Janis’s reaction if she knew you’d kissed Regina.
When you arrive you immediately spot Regina’s pink jeep, it wasn’t exactly hard to find. You also see Janis’s beaten up car, chips in the paintwork that she had filled with colorful acrylic. There’s probably no point in trying to find Regina, she wouldn’t dare risk her status speaking to you in public, so you decide to try and find Janis before classes start. You miss her a lot.
As you walk into the building you spot her and Damien in the same spot you meet every morning, does that mean they were waiting for you? Maybe Janis has forgiven you over the weekend, you haven’t had an argument before that’s lasted more than one day.
Clearly not because as soon as she spots you walking over she rolls here eyes and starts to walk away at speed. You try and shout after her but she turns at yells back.
“Sorry, don’t want you to think I’m obsessed with you!” And flips you off. Damien just gives you an apologetic shrug and follows after her.
It makes your blood boil slightly. It wasn’t just your fault! She was also being a dick!
You consider sneaking out behind the bins in the car park for a cigarette to try and calm your anger, it seems like a good plan, even if you miss the start of class.
You stay well out of the eye line of teachers as you slink out to the car park and light a much needed cigarette, you sigh out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.
Someone appears out of the corner of your eye, coming around the corner of the bins. There’s nowhere to hide, you brace yourself to be chewed out by a teacher.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
It’s Janis.
You ignore her and take a long drag of your cigarette. She sighs and lights her own. You both stand in silence, staring out at the road.
“I’m sorry.” You both say at once. Janis shoots you a shy smile.
“I overreacted.” She rubs her arm nervously. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me on purpose.”
A pang of guilt sparks in your chest and makes you feel sick.
“I shouldn’t have said you’re obsessed with Regina, I know that’s opening old wounds.” You offer back.
Her shoulders loosen and she swaps her cigarette into her other hand, reaching out towards you.
“Truce?” She says with a dorky grin.
You take her hand.
“Truce.” You laugh back and shake it.
You both finish your cigarette and head back to class. It feels better to not be fighting with your best friend but you still haven’t exactly told the truth.
It’s not like you were ever going to kiss Regina again. Maybe Janis didn’t have to know this small detail.
The day feels like it’s dragging on forever, you’re too busy thinking about what happened with Regina, and debating what you should have said to Janis to pay attention to any lessons, especially not this one.
It’s health class, otherwise known as the most awkward and cringey explanation of sex done by a teacher who clearly wants a pay rise but won’t get one. Nobody is really paying attention, only the boys who laugh and yell anytime the teacher says the word ‘penis’.
This is the only class you share with Regina. She’s sitting at the back of the room, filing her nails into perfect claws, with her legs draped across Shane Oman. The sight of it makes your stomach flip.
She clearly catches you staring because she meets your eyes and scowls. She pushes her legs further up Shane’s, whose face goes red. He’s probably just got the most embarrassing hard on. You roll your eyes at her, bold move, she scowls more.
At least she’s not ignoring you entirely.
You feel your phone buzz. It’s Janis sending some stupid meme, it makes you smile, you message her back with a meme you’d saved the night before.
Regina suddenly clears her throat and interrupts the class.
“I think we should learn more about lesbian sex to help some people in this class” she smirks and sends you a pointed look.
Your face heats up. Did she know you were talking to Janis? Was she hacked into your phone? Was she worried you were telling everyone about the kiss? You feel anger boil up inside again.
Two can play at that game.
“I actually think we should learn about avoiding teen pregnancy.” You shoot back, raising an eyebrow at her. There’s an eruption of laughter and Regina looks pissed.
“At least I’m getting some!”
“Both of you, out! Go to the library and I’ll see you after class to give you your assignments, and an hour’s detention.” The teacher shouts.
Regina hops off of Shane’s lap and scoffs like it’s some huge injustice and you follow behind, leaving a generous amount of room between you.
When you get to the library you’re the only ones there. It’s silent and the air tastes like stale books. Regina practically throws her bag down and storms off to the far end of the library. You stomp to the other end in an attempt to be as far away from her as possible.
You unlock your phone and think about texting Janis about what just happened but that would require more explanation and probably cause another fight.
You slump down against one of the shelves of books and decide to scroll tumblr instead.
“You know just because you kissed me it doesn’t mean I’m like in love with you.” You glance up and Regina is standing above you now with her arms folded.
Her blue eyes are fixed on you, you trail your gaze down. She’s wearing a short white skirt and a pink crop top with a grey hoodie. Her hair bounces in loose curls against her shoulders. You hope she didn’t catch you looking.
“I never said you were.” You growl.
“I didn’t even want to kiss you.” She spits back.
It stings a little, but you can’t let her have the last word.
“Yeah well, kissing you was a mistake anyway.” You quip back. It’s probably true, you don’t regret it though. You’d kiss Regina again, a hundred times.
“That’s bullshit.” Her brows furrow. “You’re obsessed with me.”
“Jesus Regina, you’ve said that about so many people. Get your head out of your ass.” You snap and she huffs and moves closer, looming over you.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?.”
You stand.
“I said, get your head out of your ass. If you’re so bothered by a kiss, why did you kiss me back?” You challenge, you’re not entirely sure where the confidence has come from but Regina has a way of getting you so riled up you can’t hold back.
She snarls and pins you against the shelf of books, her blonde locks fall either side of you and one book hits the ground with a thud, the pages splaying and creasing against the ground.
You feel like prey.
Suddenly she lunges at you. You expect pain, a fist to the face, a slap but instead you feel her lips pressed hard against yours, it feels like it’ll bruise.
You hear the door to the library open and she bites down on your lip hard before pulling away.
You can taste the metallic tang of blood on your tongue.
The teacher walks in and sets a bag down on one of the desks. He attempts to tell you both off for your behaviour in class but you can tell he’s intimidated by Regina’s icy glare.
“Because both of you decided to get yourselves sent out, you didn’t get the chance to pick your partners for this assignment, so you’ll be paired together.”
You hear Regina groan dramatically. This is familiar.
The teacher unzips the bag and pulls out a baby doll in a car seat. Your eyes widen.
“You two will be co parenting for a week. The baby has sensors and at the end of the week we will be able to track how you held the baby, how long you let him cry, when he’s fed and more. Here’s a workbook, I expect you both to fill it out during this week with the baby. If you fail this assignment, you’ll have to do it again for another week so don’t think about turning it off.” He places the car seat on the desk and hands you the workbook before leaving swiftly. He obviously didn’t want to be there for Regina’s outburst.
“This is your fucking fault for mentioning pregnancy you idiot.” She yells. This makes the doll start crying which enrages her more.
“Would you shut up! You’re making him cry.” You whisper shout back. It’s not like you care about it but you wish it would shut up before it gives you a headache.
“Whatever, you’re a single parent this week, good luck.” She shrugs, grabs her bag and leaves you with the crying doll.
Typical.
You pick up the car seat and follow her out. Your car and hers are the last ones in the car park.
You watch her walk away and unlock your door and clip the car seat into the passenger side. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to put it in the back, but it’s not like it’s a real baby.
You put the key in and turn.
The car makes an awful spluttering sound and you see a plume of dark grey smoke from the back window.
The doll is still screaming and you groan, dropping your head on the steering wheel which lets out a long honk.
You hear an engine rumbling behind your car and Regina leans out the side of her jeep.
“Get in loser, I’ll take you home.”
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imthenatynat · 15 days
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Breath of fresh air
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Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Pregnancy, kissing, small hurt, mention of injuries
It was so nice to finally get outside and have some fresh air. The last few days you were stuck looking out the bay window as it poured and poured. Natasha, your wife and soon to be mother of your child, was extremely overprotective and made sure while she was gone that Laura watched over you from time to time.
The Barton’s only lived less than one acre over, on a small but beautiful farm of their own with their 3 mini Barton’s. They had actually given you and Natasha the idea to live off the grid, and who better to have as neighbors than the people who had become your guys’ family.
Especially Laura, she was one of your closest confidants and you loved causing chaos with her. Being a recent agent-out-of-commission due to your pregnancy was different, especially not training as hard and sleeping in, but as your symptoms really kicked up, you were grateful for the break. Recently entering the second trimester had not been easy. It was nice having someone like Laura to talk to, who really understood.
Natasha was scheduled to come back next Wednesday, and God were you ready for her to be home. It was hard to sleep without her soft touch, the Russian lullabies she sang you and the baby every night, and the way she'd gently rest her hand on your back throughout the day as a reminder she's there for you. Sometimes she'd come home with baby clothes or an extra teddy bear she'd seen for the baby's nursery, and in those moments there was no doubt in your mind that she’d make the most beautiful mother.
As you were drinking your tea and reading your favorite piece of poetry, an extremely loud whirring sound caught your attention. Using your book as a shield from the sun, you looked up to the sky to find the Quinjet making a rocky landing in your field, swaying the grass in waves. Almost immediately, Laura came out of her house with her kids trailing behind, worry and confusion written all over their faces. You went to each others sides, "What's going on Laur? Are they okay?"
"I'm sure their fine, relax, it's gonna be okay," but you heard the breathlessness in her voice as she held you close and away from the unpredictable helicopter in the middle of your flower field.
The door to the jet slid open and revealed a group of ruffed up, exhausted Avengers. The whole pack was there from first glance: Tony, Steve, Clint, Fury, Maria, Thor, Bruce, but no- oh there's Natasha. You and Laura exhaled at the same time, half walking and half skipping to Natasha and Clint. Finally, landing in her arms again. Her hold was tender but tight, tighter than ever as she closed her tired eyes and breathed in your scent and held the back of your head. The team gawked at you and Laura like alien specimens in your lovers arms.
"I'm just gonna say it- who the hell are you two?" Of course, Tony was the one to break the sweet moment.
Natasha let out a mix of a sigh and a chuckle, before sharing a glance with Clint. "This, Tony, is my wife Y/N. Y/N  - the Avengers, Avengers - Y/N. There, the formalities are over."  Clint soon did the same with Laura.
The sound of leather could be heard crunching as Fury walked toward you and Laura, embracing you two too hard, nearly making you cough. You gently reached up to give him a hug, "Nice to see you too Nick." 
"HOW DO THESE TWO KNOW NICK?" Poor Bruce, he looked like he was trying to solve a math problem.
"We're agents with Shield, dipshit. I'm just on leave due to-," you gestured down to your visible pregnant belly, "and the fact that Nick is my boss so technically I have to listen to him. But Laura and I have actually known all of you for years, which is how we met Clint and Natasha...unfortunately."  You chuckled when Nat lightly shoved your arm.
Good ol' Steve Rogers was the first to stick out his arm, "It’s a pleasure, Miss." His grip was firm, but not too hard. You smiled up at him kindly, "Nice to meet you too, Rogers. And call me Y/N, are you boys hungry?"
A few hours later you were in the kitchen, freshly showered and bandaged Avengers sitting at your dining room table, causing a ruckus and playing poker. You loved the sound of a full house and conversations mixing together to make one babble of laughing, foul mouthed heroes. It was music to your ears.
A gentle figure hugged you from behind while you were over the sink, placing their soft hands on your belly, you closed your eyes for a second and sighed happily.
“Missed me much sweetheart?” 
“You know I did,” you craned your neck to give her a gentle kiss on the temple.
That night, as the worlds mightiest slept in your spare bunks and sleeping bags, you fell asleep safe and sound with Natasha’s arm around you and your baby-to-be.
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imthenatynat · 16 days
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5 times you slept in places you shouldn’t have + the 1 time Wanda dragged you with her
Wanda Maximoff x Spider!reader
Summary: You’ve always had trouble sleeping, and Wanda’s always been there to see it.
Warnings: fluff, slight angst, poor readers not doing so well in the sleep department.
Word count: 10.7k (I am so sorry)
A/n: I’ve always wanted to try this troupe I’m very excited with how this turned out. Took me literal months (started in march) anyways!! Reblogs or no more Wanda 🫵 /j happy reading!!
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The couch
Sleeping had never been your thing, but you could sleep through it all when it was. You were never a heavy sleeper, in fact, a light sleeper. Just the slightest of noises were enough to have your body ringing and if you refused to comply your very friendly spider-sense would have no problem in senselessly jolting you awake till you’d arrive half stumbling into a nearby crime scene. 
Your spider senses only worsened to the point where sleeping was becoming harder to do and at some point you stopped trying altogether. Night after night you’d stare aimlessly at the ceiling above you, just, waiting for the prickling sensation to eat at your flesh until you couldn’t handle the needles seeping through your skin. The lack of sleep and the cruel anticipation were eating at you, and you were starting to grow desperate.
Over dinner you complained about it to Steve one Friday night when all the Avengers took time off for some one-on-one time (despite not being an official member you graciously accepted the invitation), he noticed your sluggish behavior and recommended you avoid living near the danger until you could learn to control your powers better. His reasoning being; “If you’re not near a crime scene, your senses won’t have anything to wake you for, that way you’ll receive the proper rest you require”.
The strangest part out of all of it was; his advice worked. At the compound, you slept like a baby, in your apartment in New York? Not so much. You were very appreciative of the man, and he was even kind enough to offer you a room which you accepted immediately. 
One person who had been initially excited about your move-in was Wanda. You were lucky enough to consider Wanda one of your closest friends aside from Peter. She was absolutely brilliant and you both got along well. Similar to an unfinished puzzle piece she was the last puzzle you didn’t even know you were missing. She needed company, and you were glad to provide it. 
You didn’t visit often, but with this newfound arrangement, you would be. Wanda didn’t know if the idea of spending more time with you or potentially sleeping one room away from you excited her more. Either way, the thought of you being a door down had her cheeks flushing and Natasha’s lips curling into a knowing smirk.
So yes, Wanda was excited about your temporary stay. 
That was until she realized how annoying of a sleeper you could be. No, you didn’t snore, nor drool in your sleep. 
Your problem wasn’t any of those. And honestly, Wanda wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for a late-night last-minute grocery run. Earlier that morning she had promised the team she’d cook her famous paprikash for tomorrow and had miscalculated exactly how many ingredients were in stock. 
As Wanda stepped out of the elevator, she shifted her weight to better handle the bags, struggling only slightly before releasing them onto the counter with a sigh of relief. With a flick of her wrist, the lights turned on, and to her surprise; you were there too. Not in the kitchen but sprawled out on the couch where soft snores were leaving your lips. 
‘Huh’
Wanda bit the inside of her cheek, chuckling to herself. You looked like a starfish and your attire was… well, certainly something. You were completely knocked out beneath your Spider-Man suit and–– were those sweatpants? She guessed you must have been swinging through the city on patrol again. As for how sweatpants ended up on you, a mystery. 
You still had your mask on, and before Wanda could give it much thought she was already walking in your direction, step by step, until she was kneeling beside the couch. Carefully, her fingers reached out, slowly lifting the edges of your mask. Just as she was about to peel it out, you stirred beneath her touch, causing her to still.
“Wanda?” You whispered hoarsely, elbows lifting to get a better look at your surroundings but Wanda was quick to push you back down.
“Relax, you fell asleep in your suit again.” Wanda shushed you, and you hummed, not really fighting it, settling back into the couch to give her more control. She gently pried off the rest of the mask before placing it on the coffee table. 
Leaning down she ran her hand towards your hair, pushing away strands from your eye and you grumbled sleepily. 
The witch chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead before straightening herself up again. “There, you can sleep now.” 
“You’re the best.” You mumbled as she walked away, taking a deep breath, and burying your face back into the cushions. 
From the kitchen Wanda smiled fondly, a blush tinting her cheeks as she unpacked the groceries; moving quietly to not wake you. You’re all she thinks about as she organizes things, glancing in your direction every so often. 
And you find yourself doing the same, seeing her in your dreams, and sleeping with an even bigger smile than before. 
Tony’s desk 
The compound is surprisingly quiet the next day, considering Tony was paying a visit Wanda would’ve assumed exactly the opposite in his company. But there were no out-of-the-ordinary noises, just the occasional banging of his hammer and welding machine. 
Overall it was pretty peaceful and the weather was just beautiful, a perfect blend of sunny but not insufferably so, a sight that would go well with some lunch. Naturally, you’re the first person that comes to mind that Wanda thinks to ask. 
Yet, a problem arises when Wanda can’t seem to find you anywhere. You’re not in your usual spots, including the bean bag chair in the movie room, or the outside bench next to the pond. 
Noticing Wanda’s dejected demeanor, Natasha has enough of it after all the aimless pacing. The assassin suggests that you might be downstairs in Tony’s lab, and Wanda’s eyes light up the next second. A brilliant suggestion indeed, after all, he was your mentor. 
Unsurprisingly, Wanda finds you exactly where Nat said you’d be. Hunched over, asleep on one of Tony’s desks, snoring ever so softly. Next to you were your web shooters—or pieces of them. 
The sight would’ve normally made Wanda smile if it weren’t for your uncomfortable position. Any more time spent like that and you’d surely be retired before 40 with chronic back pain. Previously, you had told Wanda not to worry about it, mumbling on about how you spiders could sleep anywhere.
Wanda didn’t believe it for one second, knowing you immediately had to pop a few pills to relieve the pain in your spine. As much as you were a superhero, you weren’t immortal, humanity never left you—something Wanda had to remind you of whenever you pushed yourself to a certain extent. 
Feeling a weird sense of déjà vu, Wanda removed the gears from underneath your arms, carefully placing them aside, mindful not to ruin the process you had sorted out. 
Placing the items aside, you sigh on the table, stirring softly, but you remain blissfully unaware. A gentle smile curls on Wanda’s lips as she watches you, her soft palm coming to stroke your back. 
That was enough to jolt you awake, snapping up with wide eyes, and grabbing the nearest screwdriver to threaten whoever was there. Your posture was contrary to intimidating, and Wanda couldn’t help but laugh, lifting her hands in mock surrender. 
“Please have mercy.” She teased with a playful grin, using her finger to push back the ‘weapon’. 
You blinked confusingly, glancing down at the item in your hand before chuckling. “Consider yourself lucky it wasn’t Thor’s hammer I picked up.” You quipped, placing the tool down and stretching your arms above your head. 
And Wanda sighed, watching you struggle to get that knot out. Standing up from her chair she came to your aid, massaging at your shoulders and back. You sighed in relief, leaning back into her touch as she worked her magic.
She really did have magical fingers. 
“You really have to stop resting in places that’ll give you backaches.” Wanda chides, hands sliding underneath your shirt for better access, sending a shiver down both of you.
“If I stop then how will I get more of those delightful massages from you?” You murmured with closed eyes, completely drunk off the feeling of Wanda’s warm hands on you. “It’s what I love most about you.” 
Wanda tensed, flattening her palms on your back, before continuing with trembling fingers to not raise suspicion. “Is that all?” She retorted, voice low. 
You posed a thoughtful expression, letting out a hum as you leaned back. “Also for the delectable cooking, so, two reasons.” You teased, holding up two fingers. Wanda scoffed, slapping the back of your head and removing herself the same second. You giggled mischievously, trying to get her to come back. 
Swiveling your chair around, you reached out for her and effectively trapped her between your legs, and Wanda rolled her eyes, ignoring how the position made her feel things. 
“So I’m just a housewife to you then?” She prodded, tilting her head in a way she knew would have you stumbling. 
You shook your head, gently uncrossing her arms and taking her hands between yours.
“You’re more than that to me Wanda…” Standing up you brushed the strands of hair away from her eyes, leaning in close enough to feel Wanda’s breath hitch and you smirked; whispering. 
“You're my housekeeper.” 
Approximately 0.5 seconds was what it took for Wanda to gasp and shove you back towards your desk, and you let out a hearty laugh. 
“See if I ever cook for you again.”
Her voice means to come out stern but you completely ignore it, thinking how adorable she looks with arms crossed and an almost annoyed pout on her face. It’s your arms that wrap around her that make her break, bringing her into a hug and making her cheeks flush again.
“I’m simply teasing witchy, you know I love you, all of you.” The words slide out easily from your lips as you lean down to press a tender kiss to her head and Wanda looks surprised, but then you quickly redirect your attention to the basket with a cheesy grin and Wanda stumbled. “Now how about we go enjoy that picnic then?” 
Your steps are quick as you grab the basket, ignoring her piercing gaze.
And with how unaffectedly you move, Wanda wonders if you could possibly love her differently in the first place.
In a tangle of webs + Peter
Some nights were harder than others for a mind reader. It wasn’t an uncommon fate for any Avenger either, everyone had their own issues and Wanda had just been so lucky to view all of them. If she had the choice she’d never choose to see them but if Wanda had learned something from all her years; nightmares were loud.
Loud enough to startle people from their subconscious, and loud enough to provoke detailed images of their clouded lives into replaying scenes in her mind. A horror Wanda didn’t yet have the strength to ignore. 
It didn’t help that most nights, they had them. 
Empty walls stared back at Wanda’s dimmed green eyes. Her hands firmly wrapped around her head—in a fashion of both comfort and control, trying to ease the pulsing, luring her into a state of ease just to slip into someone’s mind again. She wanted to stop the feeling and visions but couldn’t. 
After twenty more minutes of hopeless starring, the memories grew weaker. 
Still, her mind remained trapped in what she had managed to see. Deciding that sleep wasn’t going to help Wanda groggily stood forward, trudging down the stairs to grab a glass of water in the common room, maybe some chamomile tea. 
Part of her heart sought company, and if given the courage she’d knock on your door and ask for it. But this time, for once the universe seemed to be on her side when her eyes landed on you.
—with Peter. Laying in a tangle of limbs, and webs. Not exactly the conscious company she was hoping for…
Despite your clustered position on the floor you both seemed at peace. You were both fast asleep and for just a second her heart clenched with envy before simmering into a soft sense of affection. How was it that you could be so cute without even trying? 
Slow droplets poured from the facet and into her cup as she took in the sight, forgetting why she was even there in the first place. But then her eyes wandered over to the calendar, right, Friday. 
She felt silly not noticing sooner. Had she really been so caught up in her head that she didn’t notice what day it was? 
The unfinished Lego Razor Crest propped on the table should have given it away. 
Fridays were ‘Fundays’. 
Wanda thought it was stupid, which was probably why she wasn’t invited to the events. Not that she minded, considering all you ever did was build legos with Peter and occasionally talk about girls—and why would Wanda want to hear that purposely? 
She knew she had no right to feel jealous, it wasn’t wrong for you to think about other girls. But did you have to be so damn obvious about it? Your mind was a fortress when it came to penetrating your thoughts, it so rarely happened, but when it did she caught glimpses of the girl who was (annoyingly) always on your mind.
The girl with green eyes. 
Too focused on figuring out who that girl was again, Wanda lost track of how much water she really needed when the cup began to overfill. 
“Shit.” Wanda hissed, turning off the tap before the water could spill further. “Gross…” she grumbled, scrunching her nose as she dabbled at the wet spot on her sweater.
That was enough water for the night.  
Briefly, before she leaves, Wanda considers waking you up again. Maybe coax you into a proper bed this time around, but before she can make up her mind Peter’s bursting awake, looking panicked. His widened eyes meet Wanda’s equally alarmed ones and he sucks in a breath. 
“Oh, sorry… I thought…burglar.” He stammers, scratching the back of his head, albeit confused. “What time is it?” 
Glancing towards the oven, Wanda squints. “Late, it’s 3 AM.” She replies and Peter grunts, mumbling about how it’s way past his bedtime. 
Amid his movements to stand up, your head slips from his grasp, colliding with the foot of the table with a heavy thud and he stumbles back. Wanda gasps, shooting Peter a glare, (who doesn’t really register it in his state of distortion) before she rushes to aid you. 
“What the fuck…” You mumble groggily, hissing at the stinging coming from the back of your head, slowly lifting yourself up to find a concerned Wanda helping you sit. “Wanda?” Now you were really confused but nevertheless allowed her to move you. 
The room was cold, chills rushing through your body in the absence of warmth, but the soft touch of warm hands felt incredible against your skin. Not being able to help yourself you leaned into her touch, noticing the way Wanda’s breath hitched.
God, she was so cute. 
Wanda swallows dryly and you think you might’ve said that out loud, judging by the way her fingers tremble and she’s turning away a blushing mess. But you don’t dwell on it as she continues to rub the back of your head to ease the pain.
“Are you okay dorogoy?” She coos and you nod wryly, her face contorting into one of mellows but neither of you says anything. Instead, you will your eyes to focus on her own, gazing into the depths of the forests that haunt your heart, and you have no clue why.
Sighing, she redirects her attention, eyes flickering between the both of you who are lost in thought. Part of her feels it’s from exhaustion but there’s something else written on your face that has her curiosity peaking. 
“Why aren’t you in bed? Both of you, it’s late.” She chides gently, and you flinch. 
“We got caught up with…” Peter starts to explain, motioning towards the Lego set and his demeanor avoidant. “that.” 
Wanda notices his shaken tone and frowns. It’s clear she doesn’t fully believe him and she opens her mouth to indulge him further but you squeeze her hand, pursing your lips to ask her to drop it. Her brows furrow in silent question, eyes glinting with whirlwinds of misunderstanding and hurt, but you’re too tired to answer any. 
Instead, you give her a reassuring smile. 
Peter had a rough time yesterday, that’s all, little witch, You whisper into her mind, seeing Wanda’s eyes turn a shade of red before returning back to you, accepting the response with a hesitant nod. 
“You really should get to bed Y/n…” Wanda tells you, rising to her feet and offering you her hand in the process. “You too Peter.” 
Peter nodded in agreement almost instantly, not wanting to stay any longer in his state of lethargy. Wanda makes a mental note to speak to Tony about decreasing his work hours. 
However, in contrast to Peter’s compliance, you deny her suggestion with a shake of your head. 
“S’too far.” You mutter under your breath, tugging webs to the corners of each room to create a hammock so naturally as if you had done it a thousand times. Which you probably have. 
For a moment Wanda looked amazed, marveling at your abilities to manipulate and create whatever you needed with just webbed fluids. But then you were snoring soundly on the makeshift bed—hammock—oblivious to the concerns you had stirred up and Wanda realized that wasn’t the point. 
When she turned to Peter for help, the younger boy scratched the back of his head nervously, shrugging his shoulders and giving an apologetic look. 
Seeing as there was nothing else she could do, nor did she wish to wake you again for the second time tonight, a sigh escaped Wanda’s lips. Red tendrils wrapped around a blanket, pulling it closer until it encompassed your body completely. She felt the urge to press a kiss to your forehead, but with Peter in the room, she held back to avoid any awkwardness 
Your lips curled into a soft smile, and Wanda returned it before turning on her heels to guide the other spider into bed. 
At least this one listens. The thought came bitterly, causing Wanda to grimace. 
“I honestly don’t understand why she keeps doing this when she has a perfectly good mattress.” Wanda sighs deeply, her voice laced with exhaustion as she walks up the steps. 
Peter blinks, giving another helpless shrug, gripping onto the rail for dear life. “I think it’s just a spider thing, sleep is anywhere you make it.” 
“But you sleep in your bed every night.” She points out, shivering at the sudden temperature. 
The air is turning colder and Wanda wonders if the singular blanket she gave you would be enough. She’s tugging at her sleeves when Peter interrupts her thoughts. 
“That is true…” A yawn cut through the younger boy's speech as he approached his door, looking dangerously close to passing out. “But I don't have problems with sleeping alone.” 
Wanda furrows her brows as the words register. Alone? You can’t sleep because you feel alone? But before she could pry further Peter was leaning against the wooden frame, fast asleep. And Wanda didn’t have it in her to ask anymore. 
Once she had successfully tucked in Peter, she closed the door gently, never once did you leave her mind. Leaning against the door, Wanda tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, her mind caught in thought but one remained a constant. 
Spiders really can sleep anywhere. 
Staircases 
Tired was an understatement, Wanda was spent. Completely and utterly exasperated by your behavior. There was an outstanding record for the amounts of migraines you’ve given her this month, knocking Pietro off the scoreboard by two. 
She was starting to feel annoyed and rightfully so as she stared at the crowd with a sour expression on her face. For the fourth time in a month, you were nowhere to be found and it was your party. 
Before Christmas, it was a tradition in the compound to throw a Gala in honor of the friendly neighborhood spiders who had worked overtime to keep New Yorkers safe for the holidays and throughout the year. 
More so an excuse for Tony to itch that insatiable party nerve of his before the big Christmas one. 
Of course, this gala was no exception to a roaring crowd. The dance floor was packed with sweaty people grinding on one another and Wanda swears she could see even Bruce getting into the groove of it. At the bar, only Natasha remained with a couple of straying men. So where were you?
A completely plastered Tony walked past the witch, stumbling as he did so and fiddling with his pants. Immediately Wanda grasped on his suit before he could get too far, enticing a yelp when she tugged the man to a secluded corner. 
“Tony, where's Y/n?” Wanda asked through gritted teeth. She didn’t know why—call it intuition—but for some reason, she felt your disappearance had something to do with him.
Tony scrunched his face, glancing over her shoulder with urgency and shouting back louder. “Where’s the restroom? That’s what I’m trying to figure out Maximoff, I’m pissing myself here!”
“Y/n, Tony, Y/n.” Wanda says exasperatedly.  
Tony's mouth forms an ‘oh’ as the realization dawns on him before he’s giggling like a schoolgirl which only heightens Wanda’s worries. 
“Ah, Y/n, funny story actually—”
It was not a funny story, and hearing the end of it had Wanda feeling even more upset and aggravated at the man. 
She didn’t know whether to be more angry at the fact you “consented” to that stupid dare in the first place or Tony coming up with the bright idea to launch you midair while intoxicated in his death trap tin suit. 
Which is how Wanda found you, through Tony’s utter stupidity and your sleepiness. Much to her relief, you weren’t dangling from a ledge or on top of the Empire State Building; instead, cozied up on the staircase with a beer bottle in hand threatening to fall off at any given moment. Tony’s red helmet sat snuggly on your head, leaning against the wall. 
Wanda huffed in annoyance, rolling her eyes and approaching swiftly to wake you. Her hand collided with the back of your neck, sparing you absolutely no mercy as you sputtered awake. 
“Ouch,” You groaned, blinking dazedly beneath the helmet as all your senses came back to you, along with a searing headache. 
You grimaced at the sight of the bottle in your hand, setting it aside as if it could burn you with one single touch. 
That explains the headache.
“Welcome back, sleeping beauty.” Came that voice you knew all too well. You swore you could feel the hairs on your body standing as you slowly turned to see, shivering at the goosebumps, and being met with the sight of a very displeased Wanda. 
Her arms folded against her chest, head tilted at just the right angle to make you scared shitless. Still, the slight furrow to her brows and teary glimmer in her eyes had you thinking she wasn’t entirely angry, just, upset—sad. 
And maybe if your mind wasn’t so foggy, you would’ve taken it into account, and taken her into your arms. 
“Wanda…?” You murmured, attempting to feign innocence as if she wasn’t glaring daggers into your skull. “Oh! Wanda!” You exclaimed, mustering a very nervous chuckle. 
As if the helmet could sense your distress it decided that opening would be the best option and smiled sheepishly. Wanda raised an unimpressed brow, green darkened eyes digging into your soul and you sighed in defeat. Not exactly the happy welcome you expected.
Worth a shot.
“Don’t ‘Oh Wanda’ me! Seriously? Sleeping at a Gala!?” She hissed, and you stiffened, feeling the need to back up. “And on the stairs of all places, do you know how much of a hazard that is?”
You scoffed disbelievingly, feeling the need to defend yourself.  “Come on Wanda, we both know Tony’s parties—“ You cut off your speech, putting your fingers up in quotation marks to quote her.  “Sorry, ‘Galas’ are anything but formal.”
Then you’re pointing at the rousing crowd above you who you can hear yelling through muffled walls ‘Chug! Chug! Chug!’ and give Wanda a pointed look, who then rolls her eyes again.
“That’s not the point Y/n. It’s your party.” 
It’s Wanda’s diminished expression that has you sobering up instantly. Her tightened eyes stared back at your own, and you hated the guilt tugging at your chest. In the worst of states, you wouldn’t want her looking at you like that, not when you’ve seen her look at you better. It was selfish, but was it? To wish to see her smile again? You didn’t know, but it was worth more than whatever goddamn party—gala they threw at you. 
With a new mindset in mind, believing you’d have more fun with Wanda than without, you dusted yourself off, properly taking the helmet off this time. You carried it under one arm and offered the other. Wanda looked at you quizzically at the sudden change but you didn’t let that faze you, taking the initiative to wrap your arm around her own. 
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe you just wanted to, so you did, leaning over to plant a short kiss on her cheek and Wanda lost all train of thought then and there. 
“You’re right, I’m sorry–I don’t know what’s the matter with me lately.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair and Wanda gives you a look of sympathy.
She squeezes your arm with her other hand, shaking her head. Her tone is soft as she rubs a comforting hand. “There’s nothing wrong with you Y/n…we all have our rough patches. Just, let me be there for you. You don’t have to hide away.”
 You suck your teeth, the urge to disagree coming in strongly but you resign, feeling embarrassed under her gaze and your confidence ends short-lived. 
Pursing your lips, your eyes drift downwards to your arms, not really sure what to do next. Noticing your struggle, Wanda takes pity on you and decides to drop the subject for another day, softly tugging on your forearm as she speaks. 
“Let’s dance?”
“Yes please.” You groan, barely finishing your sentence before Wanda leads you up the stairs and you almost stumble. Grumbling to yourself as you straighten up, you level Wanda a look in caution. “Just be warned, I can’t really tell the difference between my left and right foot right now.”
“It’s okay, you were never much of a good dancer anyway.” She hums teasingly, failing miserably at hiding her smirk.
You let out a gasp, feigning mock offense as you raise a hand to your heart, wounded. “Geez Maximoff, you know, typically you’re supposed to woo your dancing partner, not crush their hopes and spirits.”
The witch scoffs, rolling her eyes. Once you’re off the stairs and stable enough, she makes no point in waiting for you or giving you any answer as she walks through the bustling crowd and you quickly rush to catch up with her.
“Wow! And now you’re ignoring me!” You yell over the noise, a pout adorned on your lips. “And leaving me?! Wanda I must say, I’m not quite enjoying these new colors on you. What happened to manners–?”
You’re cut off abruptly by a sudden tug to your arm by Wanda, who’s pulling you to the side and you grin. She has two cups of what you assume is tropical punch in her hand and hands one to you. Lowering your nose, you smell the drink to check if it’s spiked. Wanda gives you an unimpressed look, and you think she looks hot when she’s annoyed with you.
Suddenly she’s slapping your shoulder with a burning pink tint on her cheeks, completely exasperated as she replies “My god, do you have an off switch?”
You shine a toothy smile, leaning against the wall for support as you bring the cup to your lips, a familiar mischievous glint in your eyes that has Wanda regretting saying anything. 
You cautiously lean into the space, whispering for only her to hear, “No, but I do have a couple of ideas on how to keep me quiet.”
To say it comes out more suggestive than you intended was an understatement. But Wanda doesn’t let that deter her, doubling down.
“Oh really?” Her head tilts, quirking an amused brow and you clear your throat to regain yourself.
The air becomes a little thicker than before and no amount of alcohol can save you from the blood pounding in your ears. The space between you has become thinner to the point where you can feel her breath on your lips and you pretend the close proximity holds no effect on you but your trembling fingers say otherwise. 
“Mhm, two words,” You murmur affectedly, and Wanda swallows. Your mind is clouded by all that is her so you speak slowly, feeling your throat dry. “Duck Tape.”
“One of these days, I’m gonna throw you out of the building.” Wanda huffs as you snicker, crossing her arms as she tries to fix her hair. 
Unable to help it, you tentatively reach your hand out, waiting for Wanda to pull away. When she makes no move, you carefully brush the strands away from her face, the warmth of your touch sending a shiver down her spine. 
Pulling away, you meet her hazy gaze and you swallow wryly, trembling. Giving her a lopsided grin as you stumble back, equally as affected. You really have to stop doing that. 
“Jokes on you, I’ve already done that tonight.” Comes your attempt to clear the air, resulting in another cross expression from the witch and you smile sheepishly.
“Y/n.”
Sucking your lips into your mouth, you nod. You raise a finger as you take one last sip from your cup, placing it on the table as you grab her hand again. “Right, sorry, dancing.”
Dragging her towards the dance floor, you spared one last look. This time finding pure adoration shining through her features as she stared at you almost…lovingly before she rolled her eyes. A look you preferred to see instead. Even if it had your brain short-circuiting.
A look that thankfully carried on when she found you half crashed into the Christmas tree after Tony had asked you to put up decorations, almost fast asleep.
“You’re an idiot.” Wanda sighed with a slight curl to her lips and you took that as a silent victory. She shook her head as she carried you down the hallway with her magic. 
“Yeah, I know…” You mumbled, still grinning which was quickly wiped as she let go of the magic carrying you. “Hey!”
Wanda squeaks as you reach out to grab her, running away the next second and you quickly follow with the promise that you’ll catch her, laughter echoing through the corridors as you chase each other.
Pillow Forts
Construction wasn’t exactly your forte unless it involved miniature bricks with instruction manuals. Aside from that, it was very obvious that Peter was the more resourceful spider as Steve liked to put it. You knew the man meant well when he said it and your ego completely shattered but despite the mental bruise, you never made a move to practice. 
It wasn’t like stopping trains or stringing a boat back together required much engineering when you had webs stickier than epoxy. 
And now, veins popping, sunk to your knees, you deeply regretted that decision. You wanted to strangle Peter, you envied his master builder abilities. The jumble of pillows on the floor mocking you with a stare that you could only describe as insulting if pillows could…stare. 
It was pathetic really, no, extremely pathetic and sad. Who has trouble building a pillow fort?! What was supposed to be a simple project, was the newfound bane of your existence. No matter how you positioned them, they tumbled. Limiting yourself to building by web fluid was becoming a choice to regret too. It made sense, every superhero grows dependent on their powers, it’s only natural, but this time you were determined to build something without your abilities. 
Glancing over at the clock, it read a little past nine—bordering on lines of ten- you bit the inside of your cheek, figuring you probably had a couple of minutes before Wanda’s arrival. 
Huffing, you returned your attention to the pillows and took them in your arms once more. This time with determination in your eyes and the thought of who you were building this for, remnant in your head and heart. 
As you stood back to admire your finished work, you surprised yourself. It wasn’t perfect and some pillows were more crooked than others but it was comfortable. Just as you had envisioned—from Pinterest boards.
It almost looked just as good as the ones Wanda had built for you after long missions and you wished you had spent less time staring at her and more time focusing on how she was arranging the blankets.
But the fortress only became better when you clicked on the tiny remote, turning on the fairy lights that hugged the curves of the pillows, bringing it all together in a bright vibrant glow and you smiled to yourself as the lights glimmered, imagining how happy Wanda would be. 
Your eyes returned to the clock and immediately widened next. “Shit!” You gasped, rushing upstairs to pick out the main attraction, silently scolding yourself for forgetting in the first place; Sitcoms. 
You grumbled to yourself as you dug through the drawer at the multitudes of never-ending options. Wanda had always preferred to watch sitcoms on a VHS tape, although the compound had access to all streaming services she claimed it didn’t feel the same. Truth be told, you didn’t understand why they were in your room in the first place but you assumed it had to do with the fact that Wanda always left them, tucked neatly in her nightstand before she curled underneath the covers with you.
You paused. 
Her nightstand? 
Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked across the room, realizing that there were a lot of things she left behind. Ranging from articles of clothing to a spare toothbrush in your bedroom and since when did you get decorative pillows? And why were there so many?  
You shrugged the thought off, assuming she was just really forgetful, besides it wasn’t like you were usually sleeping here anyway. You continued to dig through the classics until your eyes landed on the familiar I Love Lucy cover. 
Bingo
Smiling to yourself, you walked downstairs with the tape pocketed. Now you just had to be patient and wait a few until Wanda arrived from the hanger—
“Y/n?” Your heart startles and you're clutching your chest, turning to scold whoever scared you before the words die in your throat as you take in her appearance.
You suck in a deep breath because you feel as if all the air in your lungs has been taken.
She was breathtaking without even trying. Wet strands of hair clung to her face as she stared at you incredulously, eyes flickering between you and the fortress. Clad in nothing but a loose graphic t-shirt (that you briefly recognized as your own), and shorts that were making you dizzy. 
You cursed yourself mentally, shaking yourself out of any inappropriate thoughts. She’s your best friend for God's sake!
“Surprise?” That is what you say with a weak smile and a much higher pitch than intended. Keep it subtle. Things weren’t going entirely as planned, however, you could improvise. 
Wanda stares back amused, an unfamiliar glint in her eyes pooling, taking a step closer until her hand is dragging against your forearm. “Dorogoy, what’s all this?”
“I built it for us, I figured maybe you’d like to unwind…I know you had it pretty hard today and you’ve looked stressed all week.” You mumbled meekly, shifting against her touch. Pull it together man.
“Really?” She picked up her head, looking at you adoringly–that you missed from the bundle of nerves wracking at your mind, mistaking the look for one of contempt. 
But you pushed forward, believing it was a nice gesture. And even though all the logical parts of your brain tell you not to, you slowly untangle yourself from the witch anyway, missing the hurt that crosses her expression. 
You didn’t know why you were so nervous today. 
“Yeah, I picked out your favorite too.” You say half breathlessly, reaching for the tape in your pocket to show her. “Snacks and sitcoms, and more if you need anything. I’ve just gotta set up the TV before this and all since you came back a little earlier than I expected.” 
During your rant, you walked towards the television to find the player. Fiddling with it to distract yourself from the rising goosebumps picking at your body, but Wanda didn’t need to know that. With your back turned you failed to notice the scene unfolding behind you. Her eyes were slightly watered and she lingered by your side. Part of her, hesitant to reach out so instead she let them fall to her side, fiddling with her sleeves in a manner of comfort. 
Rummaging through the cabinets you exclaimed as you found it, turning forward with the device held to your chest, completely oblivious of the inner turmoil you’ve caused inside the other girl.
“Maybe even grab some popcorn unless you’d prefer chips? Seriously Wanda, whatever you want, I just want you to feel better—”
“Y/n?” She cuts in.
“Yeah?”
“Hug me, please?” She whispers, her voice cracking with desperation, her eyes unable to meet yours, ashamed of the vulnerability, and waves of regret crawl over you for letting go of her in the first place. “I’m sorry, I just really missed you and things went pretty badly- I just–” 
It’s you who cuts her off next, pulling her into your embrace, feeling her tremble against you. Wanda chokes back a sob, and tears blur your vision as you hold her tightly. 
You whisper words of comfort, murmuring, ‘I know, it’s okay, I know.’, while cradling her head against your chest. Despite being only slightly taller than her, you fit together perfectly, and you rest your head atop her chin. She exhales softly, her breath hitching with each shudder as she inhales your scent. Her arms move from your chest to return the embrace, burrowing herself into your chest and clinging to you as if you’d vanish again.
After a few moments, Wanda’s breathing begins to even, but she shows no signs of releasing you anytime soon. You gently squeeze her waist, hoping to draw her attention. Pressing a kiss to her hair, murmuring softly as you ask:
“Is…Is there anything else you need?”
Sighing, Wanda shakes her head, nuzzling further into you. “Just you, I don’t need anything else.”
“Okay.” You mumble into her hair, your fingers tracing gentle patterns across her back. For a moment, you stand there, bodies swaying softly as you hold each other. Selfishly allowing yourself to soak in the feeling of having her so close to you. “But if you even dare to grab my Cool Ranch Doritos just know I told you—”
Wanda groans, and you stifle your laughter when her hand playfully smacks your shoulder. You can almost feel her eyes rolling.
“Shut up, I don’t even like those.”
“Yeah right! I can still see the crumbs on your chin from last time!” You laugh in disbelief and Wanda pulls back gaping, completely affronted.
“That was one time!”
“One time too many! It was a party-sized bag—that I was planning on saving by the way, and you finished it!”
“Oh my god, just get in the fort before I change my mind and leave.”
It doesn’t take a lot of convincing to get you in the fort when soft hands lace into your own, dragging you inside. You’re more than willing to follow her anywhere.
She’s quick to push you into the pile of pillows, laughing when you squeal from the sudden impact. Shuffling underneath your arm and making herself comfortable against you, she turns to look up at you with a smile and you quickly turn into a flustered mess. With how she’s looking at you, you can’t help but feel that she’s doing it on purpose. 
Using her magic Wanda’s able to connect the TV from your position, not once disconnecting your bodies. She smiles in success when it works, sinking further into the comforting atmosphere as the show plays softly in the background. 
As the lights glimmer between your bodies, Wanda finds herself more captivated by you than the show itself. How could she not? After you’ve devoted so much of your time just to make her smile. A pang of gratitude hits Wanda’s heart, mingling with a feeling she knows all too well—a feeling she had tried to pass off as something smaller than love. But the more she spent with you, the more she realized it was pointless to deny.
Part of her hoped you’d choose to stay, to stay with her, because she isn’t sure how she’d be without you. 
Wanda knew she was letting it get into her head—but then you look at her, tenderly, as if she was the only girl in the world and fantasies resurfaced along with uncontrollable feelings that felt stronger than herself. Fantasies of one day being together, like this forever. Not just one singular moment but for the rest of your lives. 
The feeling of your body vibrating with laughter quickly snaps her out of her senses and she turns to look at the screen where a joke plays out. And god is that feeling one of her favorites. What drives her crazy is how you don’t seem to even notice how affected you make her. The way your hands would gradually grow bolder, slowly slipping past the hem of her shirt and grazing the skin underneath, leaving a trail of goosebumps in your wake. And how, whether consciously or not, you’d tighten your grip around her, pulling her in closer in a possessively deliberate way that had her biting her lip. 
Was it really selfish to want more? 
The thought swirled in Wanda’s mind heavily, but unbeknownst to her, it was in yours too. 
Wanda yearned for more than fleeting touches that led to nowhere. She craved more than unspoken vows you carried in silence, being too afraid to say anything, mortified by the thought of ruining what you had—unknowingly missing how you could have better.
Wanda Maximoff wanted to be yours.
The thought awoke her with a slight jolt and it had taken her a second to comprehend that she was asleep, the TV long since turned off then. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she recalled her vivid imaginations, realizing what had been originally just a second of resting her eyes had resulted in a 3-hour nap. 
But with the thoughts still fresh in her mind, Wanda couldn’t bring herself to care. She was on a mission.
“Y/n?” Her voice calls out slightly hoarse, breaking the silence. But the silence remains unbroken and Wanda frowns, removing her head from your shoulder to look at you. 
You’re sound asleep next to her, a faint trail of drool lining your lips. Bags are evident below your eyelids, and Wanda lets out a small ‘oh’. You had fallen asleep too.
Biting the inside of her cheek, Wanda shook her head softly, an amused smile playing on her lips as she admired you. Deciding that confessions could wait for another time, she leaned back and tugged a blanket forward, encasing you both again into that warm atmosphere. 
Recalling words you had said before: “A little back pain is worth the sleep”. She couldn’t help but agree more when it was next to you.
Together
There were two things you loved more than being Spider-Man in the world. 
Lightsabers, and maybe potentially Wanda. 
The latter being much more intimate than the first but you get the jist. The point was, that you liked Wanda. You were sure of it, with everything in your mind, body, and soul. 
So, why were you avoiding her? 
Cowardice.
Weeks had passed since that night. You still vividly remember the feeling of waking up to Wanda’s sleeping form, resting comfortably on top of you. After all, it was the best sleep you’ve had in a while.
The sight had initially startled you, but what scared you most was the normalcy of it all. The domesticity, how bright Wanda’s eyes shone in the daylight, looking at you as if you were a treasure from the depths of Atlantis. How eager she was to make you breakfast and how her touch never left yours throughout the process. 
Miles away in New York, you could still feel her. 
“Chocolate or blueberry?” Wanda asked, tilting her head to the side to look at you. 
The familiar scent of pancakes wafted through the air and you knew it was only a matter of seconds before the team came to steal them all.
Your hold remained firm on her waist as you hugged her from behind, swaying softly to the tunes of nothing. Not wanting the moment to end just yet, you remained silent, allowing yourself to bask in the peace. But Wanda had other plans, quickly squeezing at your arm to grab your attention and you rolled your eyes, amused by her impatience. 
Posing a thoughtful expression, you eyed the batter before turning to the basket of blueberries. They looked fresh, not too ripe to be sour, and not too soft to be soggy. 
“Hmmm, how good are the blueberries?” 
Wanda shrugged absentmindedly, whisking at the batter as she leaned back into you, stealing whatever warmth she could. “Pretty good, I grew them myself.” 
The mental image of Wanda in her gardening gear made you smile a little more than expected, and you hid into her shoulder, inhaling her scent. Absolutely hooked. 
“Did you?” You reply, watching as Wanda nods her head shyly and you chuckle. Unintentionally dragging your lips across her cheek as you press delicate kisses to her skin, murmuring softly in her ear, “What a talented little witch.” 
Wanda laughs, blushing as she attempts to shrug you away, not really understanding why you’re being so touchy but not opposed to it either. “Stop it.” 
Your lips tug into a lazy grin as you laugh with her, avoiding her attacks and keeping your grip firm. “It’s true Wands…you’re great at everything really. Never once have you failed to amaze me—“
“Here, try this.” That is all she says before shoving multiple berries into your mouth, distracting you before you can pay too much attention to her flustered state. 
You gasp at the sudden impact but graciously accept the blueberries into your mouth, playfully glaring at her as you chew. Her nose scrunches adorably, turning in your arms to watch you eat them, her face lighting up and offering you some more. 
Though, when you lift your hand to take them, she swats it away. Cupping your cheeks in her hands, softly stroking at your face with her thumbs, you rolled your eyes. Complying with rosy cheeks as she fed them to you.
As you held her, the world outside seemed to disappear. It was just the two of you, wrapped in a safe haven you’ve created. This moment was everything—a fragile glimpse into a future you desperately wanted but were too afraid to reach for.
Although neither of you seemed too keen on parting, Wanda’s hands were preoccupied with the feel of your skin underneath her own, repeating senseless patterns. That is until the oven goes off with a loud bang and you both break away bashfully. 
Before you can make a move, Wanda lets out a deep breath. Hands gently smoothing over your shirt, her touch lingering with tender care. She pats your chest softly, her eyes sparkling with warmth and affection.
“Blueberries it is.” 
You run a hand over your face as the memory washes over you, letting out a shaky breath. It shouldn’t affect you this much, and you didn’t want to read into it because that would require acceptance. 
The risk of ruining something you held so dearly hurts you more than the silence you keep. Heroes aren’t supposed to be afraid, and yet it’s all you felt in your heart at the thought of losing her. But your heart ached for more, just even the slightest glimpse into what could be. And when you closed your eyes, you could almost see it. An alluring figure stringing you along, captivating you with their lush green eyes, promising you that they’d be yours forever.
But those were dreams, not real life.
A real-life you wanted with Wanda.
You slowly sink into your thoughts, your mind both your stronghold and a labyrinth of sorrow. As you wipe the tears that blur your vision, you gaze down at the streets of New York. Despite the hour, the city remained wide awake. Citizens walked with pure radiance of confidence, towering buildings seeming so distant and away from where you sat. Did they know? Did anyone know that one of their beloved Spider-mans was capable of turning a mess so easily?
The weight of it all feels suffocating and no amount of air can prevent the tightness that clogs at your throat, heavy breaths leaving your body as you recount your errors. You were raised to believe that love was this grand, amazing thing. But now you want to scoff at everyone who fed into your hopelessness, fed into those lies. If love was so wonderful, then how come it hurt so much? 
But then, without warning your senses are ringing, and your eyes widen as a figure lands in your space with a slight stumble. The clouds of smoke that surround them make it hard for you to tell who it is and you raise your hand, ready to attack. 
And then, recognition dawns on you as the smoke settles. Your body easily relaxes and loosens the grip on your strayed mask next to you. With a trembling exhale, you lower your hand to take a moment to breathe, drawing in a deep calming breath and your lungs silently thank you.
“Hey, kid.” Tony greets, exiting his suit with a lopsided smile. One that doesn’t quite meet his eyes but you know better than to pry.
“Tony?” You furrow your brows, wanting to ask why he’s here but the bag in his hands tells you all you need to know. “Another late-night donut run?”
“Pepper thinks I should lay off the suits for a while.” He explains with a sigh, grunting as he sits down next to you, rattling the bag in his hands for emphasis. “And donuts are the only thing that both keep me busy and fulfilled. Win-win don’t you think?”
“Depends on what type of donuts you picked.” You mused with a hum. 
“That’s where you’re wrong, Long John.” He retorts with a smirk, reaching into his bag to place a donut in your hands. Patting your shoulder as he did so. “Here, for your troubles.” 
You cocked your head curiously, examining the sweet with a soft smile. “A maple bar, sweet.” 
Thanking him, you took slow soft bites, savoring the sweet taste in your mouth as you looked towards the city in thought. You felt Tony’s stare and tried your best to ignore it, not wanting pity. 
“In my entire years of living, not once have I ever seen someone looking so sad while holding a donut.” He commented, taking a bite of his own donut and you release a sigh. “It’s really depressing to look at.” 
He spoke between bites, causing you to grimace. Backing away, you studied your mentor incredulously, analyzing his facial features in the hope it’d give you a clue as to why exactly he was here. Finding nothing, but an unusual softness to his features, you raised a wary brow.
“Did you come all this way just to patronize me, Stark?” You sneered with a glare. Feeling like the donut was really just bait to lure you into a conversation. 
Which you had admittedly been postponing from both Steve and him, using the city as an excuse to step away from your problems. It was only a matter of time before they caught up with you again. 
And here he was, the tightness behind his eyes diminishing as he stared at you, carefully, with laces of soft affection instead. You weren’t sure if you liked this look.
“A little birdie—or should I say spider, told me about your troubles with our resident Maximoff and I figured it’s time you got advice from the love doctor.” His hand came to his chest, motioning to himself and you scoffed in disbelief before turning into one of disgust. “And listen, I love Pietro, but I really don’t think—“
“Pietro?! Ew, god, no.” You say hurriedly, eager to dispel those rumors. Your distaste quickly turns into irritation as you realize with an offended gasp. “Is Peter seriously going around and spreading this?! Tony what the fuck.”
“Right, witchy then.” He sucks his teeth, waving a finger your way and you shove at his shoulders with embarrassment. Not letting that deter him, he scratches his chin, posing a thoughtful expression as he begins, “Love is scary, isn’t it? You’re scared. Scared of messing things up, scared of hurting her, losing her—“
“This is really inspiring Tony.”
“Pipe down Pipsqueak I’m not finished,” He huffed, clearing his throat before returning to his speech. “The point in all this is that you’re afraid. And that’s okay, so long as you don’t let those fears hold you back. Hell I’m still scared Pepper will leave me for someone more sensible, someone who won’t constantly be putting her in danger.”
His admission doesn’t come easy, and you notice the frown and crease in his eyebrows as he says so. Releasing another breath, you think about his words, and how fear could hold someone back. Reflecting on the past days, all you notice is clear examples of how it’s done this, stopping you from chasing what you really want. Still, you shake your head, voice cracking as you admit:
“I just don't want her to get hurt, or get hurt.“
Tony blinks, looking at you with an emotion you don’t know. But in his eyes, he sees himself, speaking gently, “You’ll never know if you don’t try, Y/n.”
“Think about it.” Comes the last thing he’s to say as he stands up with a grunt. Hands dusting himself off and bending over to grab his bag, pointing to you with a reassuring grin.
The words swirl around your head like a roundabout, leading to only one conclusion and you know what you have to do. Face those fears, even if the words get stuck in your throat. Before Tony can get too far, you stand up, stammering on your words as you thank him. 
Tony nods inside his suit, propelling himself as he speaks. “Anytime, stay in school, and help Peter with his history homework will you?”
You shake your head, chuckling softly and Tony ruffles your hair, flying off with a booming “Ciao!” Leaving you alone to collect yourself, bidding him goodbye. 
Placing the last bit of the donut in your mouth, you slip on your mask. Launching yourself through the city to reach your destination, flying past buildings and deep into the wooded suburbs where you’d find the compound. 
There wasn’t a world in which you could successfully avoid Wanda, not forever at least. It was torture for yourself too these past few days, and you’d be dammed if you did it again. 
As you reached the vicinity, fear washed over you again, your heart beating rapidly the closer you approached. Tony’s words rang in your mind and you huffed, ignoring whatever your senses were telling you and letting your emotions speak louder. 
Rest could wait until later, for now, you had a witch to confront—confess to. 
You decided to take the easier route, being her window as you had down many nights prior. As you swung towards the wall, you found yourself stuck. Hanging from the rooftop, hand frozen midair as you stared at your reflection, was this really a good idea? In the middle of the night? 
It was a tranquil, beautiful night, with fresh air flowing through the trees, and the only source of light being the soft glow of the moon. Your eyes softly traced through the beauty of nature, losing yourself in the picturesque landscape. Perfect conditions for an Avenger to catch some sleep in and you quickly found yourself double thinking by her window. Anxiety crawls through you—what if she was asleep already and didn’t wanna see you? Surely you shouldn’t interfere with Wanda’s beauty sleep. Or should you—?
“Did you really come all this way to see me just to hang outside of my window like a creep?” Your heart startled at the sudden voice and you didn’t even notice when Wanda had opened the window but there she was, a crooked smile on her lips with a curious tilt to her head.
The moonlight only enhanced Wanda's beauty further, and you knew you were staring. But you couldn’t tear your gaze away, mesmerized, counting every freckle you could spot; dreaming of one day kissing each speck you could find. 
You wondered if women like Wanda inspired philosophers to write the most beautiful sayings because you’re certain if you had the intelligence you’d do the same. It’s only when Wanda cleared her throat, a small blush tinting her cheeks, that you turned away. 
You sighed to try and collect yourself, letting your previous anxieties disappear. “Well, you know how much I love hanging out with you.” You joked, grinning at the groan Wanda let out as she shook her head disapprovingly.
“Dork.”
“Maybe.” You shrugged.
“Most definitely.” She says before moving closer, touching the ridges of your mask, and your heart races when she pulls it down just the slightest. You lean eagerly against her palm without a second thought, savoring her touch. It feels as if time freezes, and you realize how intensely you’ve missed Wanda these past days.
You think Wanda feels the same with how she looks at you, hand tracing the small scar etched into your chin with a frown. Her hand shutters a bright red and you lean into it like second nature, knowing what she seeks; to feel you. Something that came often after missions back home, a reminder that you were still here, but as you opened your eyes to stare back into her own, it felt different. Dangerously close to intimate and emotions build against your throat, constricting you because you can’t handle how close you are. How close you could be to changing things. Your defenses fly up again and you’re inching away despite not being able to get far with Wanda keeping you still–so you rack your brain, trying to find something to say to ease the tension—deflect, maybe a joke? 
But any witty retort you had is quickly forgotten as Wanda hesitantly leans closer, testing the waters, and freezing you on the spot. You’re sure Wanda can hear your heart racing, but she doesn’t seem to care. It’s only when you make no motion of moving that she brings your mouths together. And you think you’ve just taken a glimpse into heaven.
It's just as sweet as you imagined and more. Her lips are soft and sweet and welcoming, easily enveloping you in all that is her, something you fall into hopelessly yet again. You want to ask why she chose now to do this, but you don’t want to part. The position is less than ideal, and sure your neck is straining but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Wanda’s the first to pull away, equally taken by surprise by her actions, a deep flush taking her the next second with a small shy smile and you feel yourself swoon. 
You hesitate as you try to speak again, find the proper words to say but Wanda stops you, taking off your mask properly and lifting herself off the frame, walking back into her room. She throws your mask aimlessly away behind her desk but you’re not paying too much attention to it.
“Why don’t you come inside for once? Catch some real sleep, on a real bed.” She suggests invitingly, throwing you a playful look over her shoulder. You let out a breathless chuckle, flipping yourself over to enter her window, and closing it behind you in one smooth motion.
Wanda doesn’t say much else as you help her un-tuck the sheets, shooting you an appreciative glance and you pause, realizing it is her from your dreams. She’s the girl. The girl you can’t escape at night. It baffles you how you didn’t see her sooner. And suddenly you understand. 
You understand why you’re always thinking of her, why even in your sleep you don’t wish to leave. It’s not just some crush you’ve been harboring, no, it’s something more intimate. And you want to say it’s love, but you want to say it better. Not when you’re both so absorbed in the moment, so you wait, because for Wanda Maximoff you’d wait for any length.
“I do sleep.” You spoke softly, ignoring how nervous her stare was making you and the stare made you believe that she already knew. You sucked in a breath, knowing if you didn’t say it now you wouldn’t say it ever, “I’d just sleep better with you.”
Wanda’s eyes widened in surprise before softening in a way that made your resolve crumble and you looked away with a clumsy smile. It feels like a silly confession to make, but unbeknownst to you, it’s enough confirmation for Wanda.
Shuffling into the sheets, you turn to meet Wanda only for her to advance on you the next second into a much more tender kiss than before. It’s soft and a reassurance that she feels the same way, her lips tasting of strawberries and love. You melt into the kiss once again, placing your hand on her wrist that holds your face in place, deepening it to convey. 
“I’ll keep you to that,” Wanda murmurs between kisses, placing one last peck on your lips before curling in closer to your body, hiding in the crook of your neck. You chuckle and wrap your arms around her. 
Her presence enveloped you instantaneously, reducing every muscle in your body into mush; a wave of relief washed over you, almost in disbelief that this was real. It was almost overwhelming, how easily you found peace in her arms. Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill as you realized that this simple moment was all you had ever wanted–a night of rest with the girl you cared for most, free from all the world's problems and whatever else dared to ruin you. 
As if she could sense something was wrong, the witch shuffled closer, her lips tenderly grazing against the skin of your neck and you tensed as she pressed. Her lips lingered against your skin, repeating the process over and over until you relaxed as if to say I know, it’s okay. When her legs intertwined with yours, you didn’t resist, understanding that she needed you just as much as you needed her. Instead, you held her tighter as if she could slip away if you didn’t. 
Truly believing that this was where you were supposed to be.  
2K notes · View notes
imthenatynat · 17 days
Text
Detecting Love Part 2
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: Sequel to Detecting Love. Can a spy who's been trained to lie her entire life show the person with the power to detect lies the truth what it means to be loved?
Warnings: fluff, light angst, hurt/comfort
Words: 5171
Natasha Romanoff lies.
Now, that’s to be expected, considering she is one of the greatest spies in the world. Ever since she was a child, she has been trained to be able to deceive everyone she meets.
Lying comes as easily to her as breathing, and deception is woven into every fiber of her being.
A charming smile here. A flirty wink there. 
Sweet words flow from her lips like honey.
Making everyone fall in love with all of the different false personas that she created for herself.
With a life and a past as shadowed as hers, it makes sense why she never even dared to imagine finding a person who can tolerate, let alone embrace, someone like her.
Then, she met you.
With your unique power to literally see through lies, you can detect the truth from her even when she’s at her most convincing. And despite learning about who she was and how she is, you accepted her unconditionally, not just as a friend, but as a partner.
For Natasha, being with someone who can truly see her is scary, and yet, that feeling is also better than breathing itself.
The two of you have been dating for several months now, and Natasha has never been happier.
Even if she sometimes occasionally struggles to express her affection openly in public.
As the two of you stroll through the compound, her eyes drift down once again in contemplation to your hand swinging casually at your side.
As if sensing her silent deliberation, you suddenly ask her curiously.
“Do you want to hold my hand?”
Natasha straightens at your question and faces forward, responding promptly in an even tone, “No.” 
Now that is sure to sound honest to anyone else who heard it, but you’re different.
Natasha makes sure to trail back slightly behind your line of sight in an attempt to hide the glow she knows you’d probably see around her.
You don’t comment on her evading action, but a faint smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you maintain your pace toward the Avenger’s personal elevator.
The two of you stand side by side, waiting for the elevator to arrive when Natasha suddenly feels the back of your hand lightly graze her fingers before quickly pulling away.
She narrows her eyes in suspicion at you, but you maintain an innocent expression, your gaze fixed on the decreasing numbers above the elevator doors.
Facing forward once more, Natasha is about to dismiss the action as an accidental touch when she feels it again – the fleeting brush of your hand against hers. 
This time, she doesn't hesitate to shoot you an accusing stare. Yet, you continue to feign ignorance, your expression a perfect mask of innocence. 
A couple of seconds pass before your hand makes contact with hers for the third time. 
Before you can retract your hand, Natasha swiftly catches it and intertwines your fingers with hers before letting out a defeated huff.
You don’t utter a word about her actions, but a subtle smile curves your lips, exposing your amusement at her reaction. 
With a soft squeeze of her hand, you pull her into the elevator, the door closing shut behind the two of you.
It's moments like these that remind Natasha why she fell for you — your ability to see past her lies, even the most trivial ones.
Once the elevator door slides open to the private floor, the two of you are met with sounds of a heated argument between the Asgardian Avenger and his visiting brother.
“I know you did it, Loki! This is not the first time you’ve taken and hidden a treasure of mine!”
“Oh, would you stop being so dramatic? We're talking about a mug, not some enchanted artifact.”
You raise a questioning brow at her, silently asking her whether you two should come back at another time, but Natasha shakes her head resolutely in response, not willing to let anything prevent her from missing her morning coffee.
As the two of you walk past the brothers, Thor finally notices the new presence in the room.
“Y/n!” he calls excitedly. 
His hand lands on your shoulder, catching you in place between the two of them which in turn pulls your hand from her grasp.
Thor’s other hand points accusingly at his brother.
“Is Loki lying about taking my mug?”
Realizing that you’re being dragged into the middle of the argument, your eyes dart to Natasha for help, only for her to give you a thumbs up in encouragement as she takes a sip of the coffee that she just poured from the freshly made pot.
The other Asgardian crosses his arms and snickers derisively at his brother.
“Do you really think that this simple mortal can expose the literal god of mischief? I didn’t take your stupid mug, and she can’t prove any—”
“He’s lying,” you answer plainly, seeing the red aura surrounding the Asgardian.
Loki shuts his mouth in surprise, blinking at you for a moment in disbelief, before pointing at you with a disdainful look.
“I don’t like her,” he states bluntly.
“Ah ha!” Thor exclaims victoriously. “You did take it!”
The two continue with their arguing as you discreetly sneak away to Natasha’s side.
She hands you a cup of coffee which you accept with a soft thanks before an alarm on your phone rings, showing your reminder for the day. 
You groan lightly in disappointment, causing Natasha to raise a questioning brow at you as she raises her cup for another sip.
“I have some interviews to get to this morning, so I’ll have to see you later,” you tell her before pressing a quick kiss goodbye to her cheek.
“I love you,” you whisper against her skin.
Swallowing her sip quickly, Natasha turns her head towards your direction, the reciprocating words also on her tongue.
“I—”
But you’ve already rushed away around the corner, disappearing from view. 
“…love you too,” Natasha finishes in a soft disappointed tone, her lips twisting at your action. 
Public displays of affection aside, Natasha has no problem wanting to tell you how much you mean to her.
But for some reason, you always seem to conveniently find ways to escape whenever she’s about to say those words to you.
“Now I’m no expert on relationships, but that right there was some cunning evasion tactic,” Loki comments, smirking at Natasha. “It appears that she’s not really interested in receiving such words from you.”
A slap on Loki's shoulder propels him forward a couple of steps as Thor reprimands, “Stop trying to cause problems for them, Loki.” 
He then turns to Natasha with a firm nod. 
“Don’t listen to him, Nat. Y/n loves you.”
Of course, she knows that. 
You whisper those words against her skin every morning when you think she’s still asleep and then again against her lips when you wake her up. 
The problem is that it seems that she never gets the chance to return the gesture before you find some way to rush away from the room or keep her mouth otherwise occupied and distracted.
A thud on the counter pulls her from her thoughts as Loki leans against the table with a mischievous grin.
“That girl can detect lies, right? Then why don’t you just tell her that you don’t love her, and then she’ll see the truth. That should be easy enough for you. After all, lying is your specialty,” Loki remarks before a smug expression forms on his face. 
“Unless that is, the truth is that you don’t actually love her,” he taunts.
Natasha glares at him silently, refusing to fall for his baiting provocation. Not wanting to give the trickster god any more amusement, she quickly downs the rest of her coffee and leaves for the meeting room, deciding to try again with you later.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
With the briefing finishing early, Natasha decides to visit your office during this break in between her meetings. Conversations flow around her as she walks past the front desk toward the administrative part of the building.
“I’m sorry, miss, but I can’t let you enter without an appointment.”
“Well, is there any way you can just send a message to Y/n to let her know I’m here?”
Natasha’s head snaps up from her tablet at the sound of your name and curiously turns to the person who said it, only for her eyes to widen slightly in surprise at their identity.
Your ex-fiancée 
Stopping in her tracks, Natasha redirects her attention to the two of them.
“What did you need to see Y/n for?” she asks.
Your ex turns to her at her question, and an expression of amazement crosses her face.
“Oh, wow, you’re Black Widow.”
Brushing off her awed exclamation, Natasha crosses her arm expectantly as she repeats, a slight tone of protectiveness entering her voice.
“Why are you looking for Y/n?” 
Noticing her serious gaze and intimidating demeanor, your ex fidgets with her hands nervously as she responds.
“It’s kind of a private matter with an old case that I need her help with,” she explains.
Despite being the one who broke your heart, your mutual break up with her meant that the two of you are still somewhat friends, and as much as Natasha wants to, she can’t prevent your ex from seeking you out, especially since it seems she needs your help.
With an internal displeased sigh, Natasha gestures with her head towards the direction of the elevators.
“I’m heading over to her office right now if you want to come with me,” Natasha offers, nodding at the receptionist reassuringly to indicate that it’s okay, before walking away without another word. 
Natasha hears your ex scramble to follow quickly after her once she processes her words.
As the elevator doors close with the two of them inside, Natasha pulls out her phone to send you a warning text.
I’m on the way to your office with your ex.
A read message quickly appears under her text, indicating that you have seen it, and then a text bubble promptly pops up as you respond.
?!?!?
“So, do you and Y/n work together often?” your ex asks, trying to fill the silence with casual conversation.
Natasha looks up at her question, tucking her phone away. She crosses her arms and leans back against the elevator walls, adopting an intimidating posture, as she gives her a hard stare.
With a calm yet assertive tone, she tilts her head curtly and replies with the truth. 
“She’s my girlfriend.”
An awkward silence fills the small space after her answer, and your ex’s eyes dart around the enclosed space, seemingly realizing she’s essentially alone with the Black Widow who just revealed that she is in a relationship with you. 
Sensing her nervous energy, Natasha relaxes her posture, offering a more friendly demeanor.
“Relax, if I was going to do something, I would have done it already,” Natasha reassures. 
Your ex nods hesitantly, acknowledging Natasha’s attempt to diffuse the tension. After a moment of contemplation, she gathers the courage to speak up again. 
“So, you know about Y/n and her ability?” your ex asks, her voice tinged with curiosity.
“Yes,” Natasha confirms, adding, “And about what happened between the two of you.”
The revelation hangs heavy in the air, plunging the elevator into an uncomfortable silence once again. 
Honestly, Natasha knows she shouldn’t keep putting your ex in these awkward positions with her responses. 
However, just because you are on friendly terms with her doesn’t mean Natasha has to be, especially considering she never held any goodwill toward the woman before.
Natasha redirects her focus to the digital display above the door, silently cursing and blaming Tony for the sluggish pace of the elevator. 
“I-I honestly did love her,” your ex confesses, breaking the silence once again.
At her statement, Natasha regards her with a raised eyebrow, silently prompting her to elaborate on her sudden declaration.
"I mean, Y/n’s great. It’s just…it got hard to imagine being with someone who always knows if you’re telling the truth or not,” your ex explains with a small sigh, offering a tiny sympathetic shrug before asking. “I’m sure you understand that feeling too, right?"
Irritation flares in Natasha’s chest at your ex’s words, her protective instincts surfacing in defense of you.
"Maybe the fact that she can see someone for who they truly are is what makes being with her so special," Natasha counters, her voice firm with conviction.
The remainder of the elevator ride passes in tense silence until the doors finally open with a ding, signaling their arrival at your floor. 
Throughout that time, one part of the conversation continues to bother Natasha, and she finds herself asking, wanting to know the answer.
“Did you tell her often?”
“What?” your ex asks, blinking in surprise and caught off guard by her sudden question. 
Natasha presses her lips together momentarily in displeasure at the topic before clarifying, “Did you tell Y/n that you loved her often, you know, before your feelings changed?”
"Oh, um, kind of," she admits, a faint chuckle escaping her lips. "It’s actually kind of funny. Y/n would always have this cute little shy smile whenever I said it, so I ended up saying those words to her a lot."
The irritation in Natasha’s chest intensifies at her answer, and her feelings must be evident on her face because your ex starts waving her hands frantically in a slight panic.
“But I’m positive Y/n won’t react the same way if I said it now,” she adds quickly.
Instead of responding, Natasha leaves the elevator without another word. 
Your ex’s reassurance does little to ease the irritation that she feels at not yet having been able to say those words to you herself.
The two of them arrive at the door of your office, only to find it locked with the lights turned off.
Just as Natasha is about to text you to ask you about your whereabouts, you emerge from around the corner, skidding to a stop in front of her.
Confused at your flustered state, Natasha gives you a questioning look as she asks, “Why are you rushing?”
You take a couple of deep breaths to catch your breath before answering.
“Because…I didn’t want to…to leave you waiting.”
Natasha feels her heart flutter at your words, her posture relaxing for a moment.
“…wow…you look good, Y/n,” your ex comments.
Natasha’s body immediately tenses again at the reminder of your ex’s presence, and she becomes further annoyed when she takes in the state of your appearance that prompted the remark from your ex.
You are in your usual workout outfit, a standard black tank top, showcasing your body with a gleam of sweat still on your skin, evidence of your workout session.
As if sensing Natasha’s increasing irritation, your ex gestures awkwardly in fear toward the waiting area some distance away.
“I’ll just wait over there.”
Natasha watches your ex walk away with a slight glare in her eyes. 
When she turns back to you, her expression instinctively softens with affection and curiosity.
“Where were you?” she asks.
“My last couple of interviews had to cancel, so I decided to go train for a bit,” you answer with a slight shrug. “You know, since you suggested that I try training whenever I’m bored and have some free time.”
Natasha's lips twist slightly in conflict at your response. She's happy you took her suggestion to heart, but now she's also upset that it led to you appearing in front of your ex in such a state.
Gesturing toward your ex, you ask, “Did she say why she’s here?”
Natasha sighs and shakes her head.
“She only mentioned that it was an old case that you can help her with.”
“Okay,” you say, nodding in understanding, probably already knowing what she’s referring to. 
Then you look at Natasha with a cute tilt of your head. 
“After I finish up with her, do you want to go out for some lunch?”
A small smile forms on Natasha’s face, her earlier irritation melting away at your suggestion. 
However, she knows she might not have enough time to wait and go out before her next meeting.
“How about I go ahead and pick up some takeout first, and then we can have lunch in your office when I return?” Natasha offers as a compromise.
You smile at her in response and press a soft kiss against her cheek.
“It’s a date.”
As you’re about to move past her, Natasha presses her hand firmly on your shoulder, stopping you and pushing you back to your original position.
You give her a questioning look in confusion.
“Did you take my hoodie again?” Natasha asks accusingly. 
Your eyes dart guiltily to your office before you mutter under your breath with a soft pout, “Maybe.”
Natasha nods slightly in contemplation, her eyes glancing at where your ex was waiting and then back to you.
“Put it on,” she says plainly.
You raise a brow at her in confusion and gesture to your body.
“Nat, I’m covered in sweat. I didn’t get a chance to hit the showers before you texted,” you explain.
“That text didn’t mean that you should come here all hot and sweaty in front of your ex like this,” Natasha remarks pointedly, crossing her arms.
A teasing grin pulls at your lips as a look of understanding crosses your face.
“You think I look hot right now?” you ask happily.
“Seriously?” Natasha deadpans. 
Unbothered by her signature intimidating gaze, you pull her closer by the loops on her belt and lean in with a slight tilt of your head.
“Are you jealous?” you tease lightly, your bottom lip caught in between your teeth as you try to hide your pleased grin.
Natasha rolls her eyes, though her lips quirk up briefly in amusement. She knows whether she responds truthfully or not, you probably already know the answer without the help of your ability, so she responds instead.
“Keep it up, and I’ll just come back with one takeout box for myself,” she warns.
You laugh lightly at her response, nodding your head in concession.
“Alright, I’ll put it on,” you promise, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. 
As you pull away, you whisper, “I love you,” the words brushing softly against her lips.
Natasha’s eyes had fluttered closed at the touch of your kiss, but they snapped open when she remembered she wanted to say those words back to you too.
However, to her disappointment, before she realized it, you had disappeared from her side. 
Turning around, she finds you already in your office, putting on her hoodie.
A mocking chuckle sounds beside her, and she turns to see Loki leaning casually against the wall.
“Oh, you didn’t even try that time,” he taunts.
Without hesitation, Natasha raises her wrist and shoots a widow bite at him. It flies through his body, dispersing the apparition that he had left there.
Groaning in annoyance at his presence, Natasha quickly leaves to go get your lunches before he can reappear and provoke her further.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
“So this is the one lie detector that you can’t beat,” Fury comments with intrigue, as he examines your file.
Natasha closes the folder promptly and takes it from the table in front of him, stating firmly, “Her name’s Y/n, and no, you can’t have her. She’s just going to help review the list of potential recruits for you. Nothing else.”
She gives him a pointed look, stressing, “Especially not any SHIELD interrogations.”
Leaning back in his chair, Fury chuckles amusedly and raises a brow at her.
“Protective, are we?”
Before she can affirm the lengths she would go to minimize the risks you have to take, the door slams open, and you stroll in, giving her a wave and a charming smile. 
You stop in front of her, taking her hand suddenly in yours and giving it a light swing. 
“Ready to get started?” you ask. 
Natasha’s eyes narrow in suspicion. Something about your behavior was off and unlike you. 
She examines your expression critically, and then in one swift, fluid motion, she grabs your wrist and upper arm, pivots on her heel, and shifts her weight, seamlessly flipping you over her shoulder. 
With a resounding thud, Natasha slams you down onto the meeting table, the impact rattling the room.
Fury whistles lowly with a slight wince, a mixture of sympathy and admiration in his tone.
“Tough love, huh?” he remarks to her.
Natasha rolls her eyes at his comment and shakes her head, reaching to her side to grab something. She takes one of “your” wrists and snaps a golden cuff onto it. 
Immediately, the figure on the table shifts from your face and form to Loki’s. 
His eyes glare at her as he gathers his bearings, giving a slight grunt of pain when he moves.
“As if this woman knows anything about love,” he scoffs, standing up from the table with a groan.
Fury hums curiously at the sight of the trickster god, turning to Natasha.
“Who let him in here?”
Natasha sighs as she crosses her arms, replying, “Unfortunately, Thor and he are on friendly terms at the moment.”
Loki raises his hand and waves his finger at her in reprimand.
“Exactly. Now, is this any way to treat a guest of yours?” he taunts with a smirk before his eyes drift to the cuff on his wrist. His expression falls in recognition. “Where did you get this?”
A smirk forms on Natasha’s face as she answers, “Thor lent it to me when I asked. Since I know better than to just take his things.”
The cuff in question is an enchanted artifact that temporarily blocks the magical abilities of the wearer as explained by the god of thunder.
Loki scoffs in disbelief, placing one hand on his hips while waving his other wrist at her. 
“Hilarious, now take these off,” he demands.
Natasha’s smirk remains fixed as she shakes her head.
“I don’t have the key,” she admits, tapping her chin thoughtfully before revealing, “It must still be with Thor. But I’m sure you’ve already apologized to him for earlier, so you’d have no problem asking him to release you.”
Loki scowls, his expression darkening with disdain, and then he swiftly turns toward the exit.
“It’s no wonder that girl doesn’t want to accept any love from the likes of you,” he spits out angrily.
Natasha’s lips twist downward at his words, but before she can respond, a knock on the door interrupts the tense moment. 
Taking a calming breath, she calls out, “Come in,” already knowing who it is.
You open the door at Natasha’s invitation, only to dodge out of the way as Loki storms past you out of the room, muttering angry curses under his breath.
Turning back to Natasha, you notice the telltale red aura fading from around her and wonder what was the lie that you assume she had just told him.
As you approach her, Natasha’s contemplative, sullen expression quickly shifts to a neutral one when she catches your concerned gaze.
Before you can question her about it, Fury claps his hands firmly, looking between the two of you.
“Alright, let's finish this quickly then.”
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Seated on your sofa, Natasha hugs a cushion pillow closer to her chest, seeking comfort as Loki’s harsh words echo in her mind.
Is it just a coincidence that you manage to avoid her every time she’s about to say those words to you? Or is it possible that the truth is you don’t actually want to hear those words from her?
You place a bowl of popcorn on the table in front of her, snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts as you finish explaining what your ex needed from you.
“So, I just need to submit my notes on the case so that the court can close it out,” you explain.
Natasha hums absently in acknowledgment, but her mind drifts back to her insecurities.
Was Loki just messing with her or were all of your previous evading actions really on purpose?
Unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, Natasha decides to settle this once and for all.
As you take your seat next to her and start the movie, Natasha initiates her plan. She quickly maneuvers herself over your lap, straddling you as her hands rest on your shoulders, pressing you firmly against the sofa with her body.
Your hand automatically rests on her waist and begins tracing light patterns against her side, but your lips twist into a small pout of confusion as you remark, “As exciting as this is, I thought this movie was your favorite.”
Natasha closes her eyes briefly, internally groaning at your adorable words and how incredibly in love she is with you. 
If only you could hear it from her for once.
Determined to not fail this time, she tries again.
“I lo—”
Her words are cut off, swallowed by you, as you pull her down into a deep kiss. 
Instinctively, she melts against your body, sliding her hands to caress the back of your neck, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss as she gets lost in the feeling of your lips moving against hers. 
Then, realization hits her, and she snaps her eyes open and pulls away. 
“Hold on, I’m trying to tell you that I—”
“I know,” you interrupt, your hand covering her mouth to stop her mid-sentence. 
That’s when Natasha sees it.
The fear in your eyes.
“I know,” you repeat, giving her a look of understanding before swallowing nervously. 
You close your eyes as your head drops to your chest, a sad chuckle escaping from you. 
“You know, in all my life, I have never been afraid to discover if someone was lying to me,” you admit, shrugging lightly. “I’ve always known that people can lie, so it’s never really surprising or hurtful when it happens.” 
You let out a weary sigh and look up to meet her gaze with a sad smile. 
“Except for that one time.”
Natasha knows what moment you are referring to — the night your powers revealed that your ex no longer loved you.
The memory flashes in your mind, vivid and raw, as if it happened only yesterday. The betrayal, the heartache, the crushing realization when the red aura appeared around her after she uttered those fateful three words to you.
Your attention returns to the woman in front of you, the one who helped heal your heart. The one who now holds it. 
The one who also has the power to hurt you in the exact same way, even though you know she won’t.
“I love you so much, Natasha,” you say with breathless adoration and honesty, but your expression pinches in fear as you continue, your voice trembling slightly. “But I don’t think I'm ready to hear it from you yet. Just…not those exact words.”
You sigh sadly, understanding how unfair your words are to her, and your chest tightens guiltily as you apologize, “I’m sorry. Look, I’d understand if you want to leave.”
You look away from Natasha, your mouth pressing together tightly, fighting the urge to cry. 
The silence stretches out in the room before Natasha gently cradles your face, bringing your gaze back to her.
“You make me happy,” Natasha declares firmly.
You give her a confused look at her words.
“Wh-what?”
Ignoring your question, Natasha continues, asking meaningfully, “Am I lying?”
Your eyes observe her for a moment, but you don’t see any indication of a red aura appearing.
“No,” you answer in confusion.
Natasha nods before continuing, “I don’t mind that your powers reveal truths about me, like the moments when I want to hold your hand or when I’m jealous.”
She tilts her head at you in question.
“Am I lying?” she asks again.
Still not seeing any red aura appear around her, you shake your head at her in response.
Natasha rests her forehead against yours, letting out a deep breath, before continuing, “I’m afraid that one day…” she pauses, taking in a shaky breath to prepare herself for what she’s about to admit out loud. 
“…one day you’ll wake up and decide that because of who I was, who I am now is not enough for you to stay with me anymore.” 
Your eyes widen in surprise, and you go to reassure her, “I wouldn’t—”
“Am I lying?” Natasha interrupts, not wanting you to worry about comforting her at this time.
Your eyes soften sadly when you see the vulnerability and fear in her eyes at her words. 
You reach up to cup her cheek, your thumb caressing her face gently in comfort as you whisper, “No.”
Leaning against your touch, Natasha lets out a steadying breath to compose herself for the final part of her point.
“So when I say I can wait…” she pauses, looking into your eyes with a serious and determined expression, making sure you can see the sincerity of her next words. 
“…I’ll wait for as long as you need so that one day I can say those words to you…am I lying?”
You watch her carefully for a moment, but nothing appears to counter her claim. Realizing her intentions to reveal her feelings in another way, your heart fills with love and adoration for her as you answer with a soft smile. 
“No, you’re not lying, Natasha.”
She gives you a gentle grin and cups your face, pressing a soft kiss against your lips before admitting, “That’s because when I’m with you, Y/n, it never feels like I’m living a lie.”
A breathless, awed gasp escapes from you at her words, and you can’t help but pull her in closer, her red hair falling around you like a curtain.
“I love you,” you whisper against her lips, the words filled with genuine adoration for the woman.
Natasha smiles softly at your words and closes the distance between the two of you once again, her kisses tender and filled with all of her unspoken feelings. Her lips move against yours with gentle urgency, conveying everything she can’t yet say aloud.
The warmth of her touch, the sincerity of her kiss, and the way she holds you protectively — all of it reassures you. 
It doesn’t matter that those three words haven’t been spoken explicitly — her actions, her presence, the look in her eyes says it all already.
Natasha may be considered one of the greatest spies in the world thanks in part to her exceptional ability to lie, but even she can’t hide the truth from you.
Without needing to hear her utter those fateful three words aloud, you already know the truth in your heart.
That Natasha Romanoff truly loves you too.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
a/n: Thank you for reading and for all the love that you all gave to the first part! I hope you enjoyed this one too!
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imthenatynat · 19 days
Text
soul bounds disentwined
Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader
Word count: 5,427
Warnings: A little angsty, I guess? And ofc Reader having a crush on Billy's mom not knowing if it's reciprocated.
A/N: This is inspired in Halsey's music video "Colors", if you have watched it, you can see where this is gonna go...
A/N: For plot purposes, let’s suppose the events Infinity War and subsequent events never happened, and instead, after the Sokovia Accords, Wanda decided to quit her life as a superhero. Part II coming soon!
Wanda Maximoff hired you -a photographer who urgently needed a fresh start- to capture the dishes that would be featured in her second cookbook. Her son, Billy Maximoff, interfered with what you two could have developed. He had feelings for you, and well, you had feelings for his mother.
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According to Forbes (2023), Wanda Maximoff secured the third position among the wealthiest chefs worldwide. She is a living proof that we are all capable of rewriting our own story, even after a lifetime shaped by external influences.
Simone Carlisle (Culinary Arts Teacher): Ah, Wanda Maximoff… (pauses) let me tell you, no one prepares you for that feeling, where you find out that you contributed your seed to the plants of successes that one of your students planted in the garden of her life.
Wanda Maximoff (Chef, restaurant chain owner, and television presenter): For as long as I can remember, my decisions were a cycle of revenge and redemption... don't get me wrong, I don't regret beating the shit out of some idiots (laughs), but, with the busy life I led, the only moment I could pause my life was while I was hiding in Scotland with my ex-boyfriend Vision. I had no one expecting anything from me, no one telling me what to do, where to go, it was like a puppy without an owner.
Vision (Avenger, Wanda Maximoff’s ex-partner): Dear, was it a journey. First, I remember that she watched YouTube videos to learn guitar. As soon as she woke up, she grabbed the instrument, and she wasn't satisfied until her fingers got numb. In a very short time, she caught the hang of it, and played for the first time in a small bar. No one knew who she was, and if they did, they probably didn't care. She was just a talented player keeping them entertained. Afterwards, band members fought over who would give her their contact first to join them. I thought that would be the beginning of a very successful music career, because from what I've read, international artists started that way.
Wanda Maximoff: I said, “Vision, I’m never doing this again”.
Vision: She kept practicing, playing in the solitude of her room, of course. It was a hobby-kind-of-passion, not the type of passion she would like to dedicate most of her life to. She went through many of those to realize that her main passion was under her nose all along.
Wanda Maximoff: The courage to join in culinary classes arose from desperation (chuckles), I used to prepare recipes at home, and I needed someone else's approval… it couldn't come from someone who didn't even eat in the first place! And so the beginning of my trayectory was paved by this amazing teacher, Simone Carlisle.
Simone Carlisle: The shy girl who during the intensive course kept her head down, sitting on the back corner, nervously playing with her rings while ignoring whispers and glances from other students, is now in a big framed picture, placed in the most visible spot so that everyone who enters my academy knows that I taught this legend. She made my small business a huge deal now (laughs).
Wanda Maximoff: I never imagined that I would have my own cookbook, television program, or chain of restaurants, let alone all three at the same time! At first, I was content with cooking in a restaurant and earning a decent living, but later, I thought about the possibility of creating a YouTube channel, which subsequently permitted me to finance the publication of my book. Building on the success of my book, the opportunity of my show emerged, which in turn allowed me to open my first restaurant, and ultimately expand it into a chain of restaurants. What I want to convey is that you must trust that the love for what you do is a powerful tool. Success is subjective, so pursue your own concept of it.
Amy Lee (Evanescence’s lead singer and songwriter): It was a hard day of work. I didn’t feel like cooking but I was looking for the homiest, most comforting food possible, and Wanda Maximoff made it a reality with her restaurant located just a few blocks near me. I told my bandmate, Emma, about this amazing food restaurant, she replied, "Oh, the owner has a YouTube channel and a show, you should watch it so that you don't overcook the spaghetti" (laughs). It has been a great help to me ever since, for those are creative but accessible recipes. Plus, it’s a nice touch that she uses her magic to manipulate ingredients and utensils, while making you laugh with her witty jokes. The best way to put it is; she makes you feel like it's a close and sweet friend who is teaching you. Her human and warm approach felt and still feels like a pat on the back.
Wanda Maximoff: My favorite singer since adolescence, Amy Lee, has said something about me that fills me with happiness every time I remember it. She helped me cope, I helped her cook. We're even now.
Vision: You see, Wanda's powers went from being a source of fear in the world to being the main reason why said fear stopped as well. An impressive understanding in her abilities, still doesn't make her an expert, as she can't prevent unexpected situations.
Wanda Maximoff: I was six months pregnant. In the blink of an eye… literally.
The latest legacy of the Maximoff family, twins Billy and Tommy, were effortlessly admitted to Princeton University. The dean was left speechless, for their admission exam grades exceeded expectations.
Tony Stark (Avenger, Stark Industries):With Wanda, our initial connection was through business, the Avengers, you know? It wasn't until she asked me if I could offer her kids an internship at Stark Industries that we developed a closer bond, and man, were those kids geniuses!
Wanda Maximoff: Those kids... one day, they'll outgrow me (laughs). They were so eager to rush through life stages, and I thought, "You don't realize I would give everything to relive those joyful years," but I know better than to project my own frustrations on my sons.
Virginia "Pepper" Potts (Stark Industries): One day, I said goodbye to two fourteen-year-old boys. The next day, Happy informed me that some tall adults with raspy voices, claiming to be Billy and Tommy, wanted to come in. I immediately phoned Wanda, and she casually responded, "Oh, yeah, they can do that," as if maturing into college students overnight was a typical Tuesday occurrence for any teenager.
Thomas Maximoff, (Student at Princeton, son of Wanda Maximoff): What can I say? (chuckles) school didn't present any intellectual challenges for us, and, yes, they do admit child prodigies for... PhDs even! But, we wanted to blend in, to share the same age as our classmates.
Wanda Maximoff: I always considered it a priority to spend time with my boys, so I put a lot of my work on hold, including my second cookbook project. Now that they're focusing on college and their internship, I've had too much time, and by that I mean too much time to finish that unfinished work.
Wanda Maximoff had completed her second cookbook, in response to numerous requests from her loyal fans. Another book that promised to aid all those who seeked a different, quick, and above all, delicious meal at any time of the day. There was no doubt that it would become a global bestseller, just like her previous one.
All that was left were the illustrative photographs for the book, and the studio where you worked at was in charge of this task.
You meticulously made the first dish she cooked appear as exquisite as in real life. You employed several tools like lighting, background elements, and cutlery placement, but you never altered the food in any way, it didn't even cross your mind to do so. This didn't sit well with your boss, but it certainly pleased the redhead.
(Y/N) (Y/L/N) (Photographer): I remember my boss suggested that I add components to the food to make it look more appealing. I responded that that was the equivalent of encouraging unattainable stereotypes of beauty... in food (chuckles).
Wanda Maximoff: By offering unrealistic references, people would be discouraged to notice that their result was not the same as mine, not knowing that those references have hours of strategy to make it look 'aesthetic'. I prefer to show it as it is (pauses) I think that's why I liked this girl, I didn't have to say a word and she understood everything.
Your boss was the typical man who didn't let newcomers like you progress. Although you had been working in the studio for about six months, he never allowed you to touch a camera, which was contradictory because that was the job you applied for.
You did the work he didn't want to do, like transporting, positioning and removing the equipment, and setting up the scenery. That idiot just did the angles and clicked the top right button, and then took all the credit and praise. It annoyed you, yes, but unlike him, you didn't need praise from anyone to fill your ego, you just wanted to be acknowledged for your own efforts and not to be another person’s side kick.
In the meantime, it was enough satisfaction to know that none of the praise he gets would be possible without you, and he knew it…
… and Wanda knew it.
"What do you think, Miss Maximoff?" Your boss showed Wanda the array of photographs he took of the latest dish. He proudly displayed them, awaiting for a compliment from the redhead.
"Wow, (Y/N), placing the sautéed potatoes in a separate bowl instead of alongside the food within the same dish... you were right, it gives them their own protagonism and importance as a side dish," was the first thing she said, eliciting a small blush from you, "Great work!"
"Thank you, Miss Maximoff," after hearing her words, you experimented a feeling that was somewhat unfamiliar to you. It made you feel visible, truly seen and acknowledged in a workplace that often overlooked such things. And the fact that it came from her, made it all even more so profound.
"It's just Wanda," she corrected you, as if her previous actions weren't enough, she gave you the green light to address her in a more intimate manner. Along with that, your boss was already frustrated enough at not being the center of attention for two and a half hours. It was all a dream!
"(Y/N), we're done here, remove the equipment and take it to my car, I'll be waiting for you for just five minutes," your boss ordered you. Not even a ‘please’, nothing. In his gaze was evident that desperate attempt to look intimidating, which only made him look like a tantruming child. However, when his gaze turned to the older woman, he held an incredible admiration and appreciation, almost as if they were two different people in the same body. "Miss Maximoff, it was a pleasure working with you, truly an honor. We could continue next week...”
"Do you have equipment of your own, (Y/N)?" She interrupted him in mid-sentence, and you hesitated briefly.
"Uh... yes, of course, Miss... I mean, Wanda," you replied.
You worked as a freelance photographer in your spare time, capturing people or events here and there. It was something relatively stable, but it could not be your main income, so you felt the need to work on a studio.
"Perfect... I'll be contacting only you so we can work on the rest of the illustrations for the book," she stated.
(Y/N) (Y/L/N): I couldn't believe what I heard! The first thing I did was begging to whatever force there is that this wasn't a dream. It was overwhelming, the feeling of fear and ecstasy… Wanda wanted ME to work with her.
She recognized something in you within three and a half hours that others failed to see in six months. This was it. This was the big break you had been waiting for, the opportunity to show your skills and make your mark.
You never saw your boss, or stepped foot in that studio after that.
In the days that followed, you poured your heart and soul into preparing for the upcoming shoots.
You studied Wanda's previous cookbooks, familiarizing yourself with her style, her preferences. You even watched her program and her interviews, initially with the excuse of seeing those mesmerizing eyes and delighting yourself with her beauty, but you actually learned a lot of cooking techniques that you were excited to cook when it was such an annoying task for you to do.
When the day of the shoot finally arrived, you were ready. You set up your equipment with a confidence you had never felt before, positioning the reflectors so that the natural light would bounce where you needed it, and setting the scene to make the food appealing and motivating. Wanda watched you work, her eyes filled with admiration and respect.
You smiled at her as you turned on your camera, “So, what do you do with all this food after I photograph it?” You questioned curiously.
"I pack it, multiply it with my powers, and give it to the homeless," she explained. "It's something I often do, in fact, but I prefer to keep good deeds a secret, and not brag about it," she added. “I would appreciate it if you don’t say anything.”
"I figured that about you," you smiled sympathetically.
"You figured?"
“You have always used your skills to help," you elaborated, and noticed she slightly scrunched her nose, as a way of disagreeing. "Yes, even when you were working for Hydra, Tony Stark was destroying territories left and right, and you were seeking justice, doing what you felt was right," you added, noticing how her face showed an expression of realization. "And now, you focus on helping people who struggle with thinking of a simple but good meal in the midst of a hectic routine, and not so much on showing off how good you are at cooking exotic dishes. So yes, I assumed you would also help those who can't even afford a meal, too.”
Wanda's gaze was lost in the white marble of her kitchen floor, and you knew you gave her a new perspective on the wrongs she had done in her past. She meant well all along, and ultimately, that's what mattered. She was a great person in the present, and that's what mattered.
"So, you're the photographer in question," a tall, curly-haired guy stepped into the kitchen doorway, interrupting the train of thought of the woman in front of you.
You laughed at the expression on her face as reality hit her again.
"Oh, yes. Sweetheart, this is (Y/N)," she introduced you to who you already knew was her son. "And (Y/N), this is my son Billy."
"Nice to meet you, Billy," you replied, approaching him to offer your hand to shake.
"The pleasure is all mine," he emphasized the last words, as he accepted your hand. "My mom didn't mention that you were so beautiful."
Wanda cleared her throat, and proceeded to look at him with surprise in her eyes. In a I-can’t-believe-you-said-that way.
You couldn't help but laugh again at how expressive she was without noticing it, but in their perspective, from how you looked the other direction and chuckled softly, you seemed to snicker at Billy's flattery, which couldn't be further from the truth. He was corny and predictable, but most importantly, he was not Wanda Maximoff.
"Oh, forgive him, he still doesn't know how to control those sky-high hormones," Wanda said, grabbing Billy's shoulders from behind to guide him out of the kitchen.
You noticed that she was already shorter than her son by a few centimetres. This was nostalgic for any mother, but how must Wanda have felt watching it happen overnight? You were curious.
"No problem," you replied, and headed for the counter to begin photographing.
Billy entered the kitchen again, standing next to you, but not close enough to invade your space, which you thanked internally.
"Do you mind if I watch you work, (Y/N)?" Billy requested, and you smiled politely.
"Billy! Don't you have an internship to go to?" Wanda interfered before you could answer.
"Pepper and Tony organized a party at the tower," he replied victoriously.
"College homework?"
"Piece of cake. I finished it an hour ago."
“How about you enjoy your free time and go bowling with your brother?”
“He’s busy playing Fortnite online,” he shrugged.
Wanda rolled her eyes, "Behave yourself. That's the only condition."
"It's okay, Wanda," you reassured her. Each stage in a child's life is gradual, and parents usually have many years to learn about what each stage entails. It was understandable that Wanda didn't know what to do now that her children were suddenly old enough to drink and get into adult trouble.
"So, (Y/N), how long ago did you start this whole photography gig?" The taller guy spoke up, once you took your first picture.
"I've been doing it since I was thirteen," you replied, still capturing the image in before you at different angles. "Dedicating myself to this? As soon as I turned eighteen. I had a decent portfolio."
"I don't doubt it," he agreed.
You gave him a slight thankful smile, and walked over to Wanda, who was setting up the second dish to be photographed.
"What do you think?"You asked her, and it wasn't until she turned to look at the camera that you noticed that this is the closest you've ever been to her. You could smell her fragrance and hear her breathing. Your mind was screaming at you to move away, for you had no right to display such trust yet, on the contrary, your body needed to be as close as possible... to feel her.
You had never touched her, not even when she greeted you this afternoon. She simply opened her door and let you enter.
"Excellent. The blueberries next to the gluten-free blueberry pancakes are wet,” she commented. “Did you do it to provide a sense of freshness?" She inquired, looking into your eyes this time, and... the charm of her green eyes was incomparable.
Throughout life, you've seen different shades of green, but hers were unique. They seemed to have a whole story to tell, as if she gave them that power. Her eyes glowed with an emerald hue that mesmerized anyone who met her gaze, and you were no exception.
“Exactly, that’s what I did,” you confirmed, and you felt your cheeks burning, which you immediately hid by looking down and walking back to the counter.
The only interactions you had with Wanda were to get her to approve your photographs, since her son didn’t allow you both a second to talk. He didn’t cease to ask you all sorts of questions, and to keep the conversation going, you responded with brief 'and you?'s so that he still felt heard and had the space to reveal details about himself.
It was all natural for you. Your work was also based on creating a liveliness in the environment where you performed, plus you got more genuine reactions from people if you made them laugh and feel comfortable. However, you always ended up talking with whoever was willing to, even if you were not there to capture them.
In fact, you were enjoying the conversation with such a charismatic guy. At first, it felt overwhelming, but just by letting the topics flow, you ended up laughing and feeling more at ease with him. In any case, you would be meeting him more than once in the eight weeks that remained before the project was completed.
Once you had finished photographing the ten dishes for the week, you turned off your camera and put it back in its case.
You were too happy with the results. This was all done by you alone, and you would be recognized for it. Never again would your boss's name appear under the pictures that were all your doing. The moment Wanda sends your photographs to the publisher, your name would appear in the book credits, and so a new story would begin.
And Wanda... oh, Wanda made it so clear that she loved your work, and paid so much attention to detail. Not only did she praise you, but she made it a point to let you know that she had indeed noticed the details that to the average eye would go unnoticed. You didn't know if you were really developing a crush, or if it was just the fact that she was an older woman that satisfied that need for attention that you rarely got... or it could be both.
When you were working on your own, you didn't feel exhausted and drained despite the long working hours, unlike when you were in the studio. You were very grateful that Wanda had given you another opportunity like that, and you were confident that it could become a regular thing.
"Wow, seeing all these dishes without having eaten lunch has really made me hungry," you laughed, proceeding to remove the reflectors from the kitchen’s window. The sky was still clear. You started at a perfect timing to take advantage of natural light.
"You haven't eaten? Look at the time! I thought you had eaten before you came!" She exclaimed. The redhead actually looked concerned. "Do you have any idea of the damage you're doing to your body? You need energy for this kind of work."
"Hey, I wanted to make a joke and you ruined it with your lecture," you protested.
Wanda sighed, and shook her head disapprovingly, which made your heart crumble a little.
“I… I’ll get some food on the way home,” you corrected yourself.
"How about you stay for dinner? I was going to make it, Tommy won't be long before he comes back to the real world and notices he's hungry," she offered kindly.
"Oh! Or I can take you out for dinner somewhere nice!" Billy proposed, smiling at you with anticipation.
To be brutally honest, you wanted to throw yourself at him and choke him so no other words would come out of his mouth. You knew Billy was just a guy with a silly crush, excited to show you how interested he was in you. He wasn't trying to do any harm. But, hell, wasn't it enough for him to be the center of your attention all afternoon?
"I'm really looking forward to trying something made by your mom," you declined in the politest way possible. "Many people would kill for that honor!"
Wanda let out a laugh, and her expression also seemed to change as she heard your decision to stay.
But, oh, Billy, Billy, Billy... as persevering as his mother.
"Ah! Next week she'll cook you something, right mom?" he insisted, and even though the redhead tried hard to keep her smile, her eyes changed.
"Sure, I'll cook whatever you want," Wanda sighed. "Go with Billy, and continue your conversation... alone," the way she said that last word was as if she had felt like the third wheel all afternoon, as if she was a hindrance to whatever was starting between you and Billy.
"You owe me," you said to Wanda, letting her know implicitly that you were looking forward to your meeting next week, not this dinner with Billy.
Billy led you to the garage of his house, and opened the passenger door of a black car. You thanked him politely and got in, allowing him to close the door for you. The car was completely spotless, and had a new car smell, but not because it was new, maybe because that was the fragrance he asked for at the car wash. For yours, you always opted for lavender… which made you wonder, what fragance did Wanda like for her car?
"Any preferences?" Billy asked once he hoped in the driver’s seat, pointing towards the car radio. It was noticeable he was doing his best to make this comfortable for you.
"A little bit of everything, how about rock like... Evanescence?" you proposed.
"Ah, my mom loves them," he commented, and your eyes lit up at that statement.
"You're kidding..."
"Yeah, since her teenage years," he confirmed. "Evanescence, In This Moment, Epica, Lacuna Coil..." he listed, trying to remember them all.
You made a mental note to put on that music on your next meeting with Wanda. It wouldn't be hard, as you loved all the bands he mentioned, which was wonderful.
You couldn't wait to show her the latest bands, ask her her favorite songs, and have a topic of conversation that would allow you to bound...
"So, ready?" he spoke, noticing that you were lost in thought.
"Yeah, sure," you nodded, putting on your seatbelt.
The dinner was... better than you expected. In fact, it was amazing.
You didn't really have anything in common with Billy, but the way you both listened to each other, and always found a middle ground despite going your separate ways, made the experience with him extremely pleasant.
The only difference was that, as you each went home, he thought about seeing you again, and you thought about seeing his mother again.
And so, after a week, you found yourself in front of the door of Wanda's house, with your camera hanging from your neck, your equipment already waiting on the pavement next to your parked car, and as a bonus, a speaker you brought along to play music while you worked.
Alone, at last...
When the door opened, you found the redhead wearing a casual outfit consisting of dark blue jeans and a black half-tucked in blouse. Oh, and her face, how you missed that face.
"Hey..." You greeted her, with palpable enthusiasm.
"Hi," she replied, and noticed the speaker in your hand, arching her eyebrow. "I found out last week that you and I have a lot of bands in common."
Wanda let out a gasp of surprise, "Oh, please do come in!"
You laughed briefly, and as you were about to enter your equipment to take it towards the kitchen, Wanda snapped her fingers, and it disappeared.
"Wanda, what the hell?" You exclaimed, looking at her with your widened eyes, had she just disappeared all your belongings?
"Relax, they're in the kitchen."
"That skill of yours would’ve come in handy last week too," you commented, walking into her house.
"It was fun watching you run in and out," she shrugged. "But today you earned it, because of the music."
"I see, I have to earn it?!" You exclaimed, feigning indignation. Really, she could have pulverized your expensive equipment in front of you, and you'd still thank her.
Once both of you entered the kitchen, your reflectors were already in the same position as always. And on the other side, the ten dishes were already hot and ready to be photographed.
"And what would I possibly have to do next week to earn that help from you?" you asked, resuming the topic you had discussed earlier.
"Mmmm..." she muttered, in a way that almost made you weak in the knees. She watched you from head to toe making you feel exposed to her as if she had ripped your clothes to shreds and left you standing there, naked and at her mercy. But you were still completely covered. "...I think you've earned it,” it was as if your reaction alone was enough reward to her.
“Thanks, I guess,” you cleared your throat.
You picked up the horn, and turned it on, placing it in a place in the kitchen where it would not interfere. Your hands were shaking, and you could have sworn that Wanda was watching you with amusement, while you avoided her gaze at all costs.
You grabbed your phone, and played the playlist you had prepared for this moment. "A Star-Crossed Wasteland" by In This Moment was the first to come on.
"Oh, I love that song like you have no idea," Wanda exclaimed, closing her eyes and frowning as she listened to that intro. "That album, in general..."
"It's in my top three," you commented.
"Hell yeah! Now we're talking!" She exclaimed, raising her hand offering you a high-five.
"I'm not that old school," you shook your head, chuckling.
Wanda rolled her eyes, and took your wrist, giving herself a high five with your hand.
"Good girl," she praised you, and you swallowed dryly. At the words, and at the fact that this was the first time you'd ever touched her. "What's your top three?" she asked, acting so nonchalantly after flustering the hell out of you.
“Tell me yours first,” you proposed. You couldn’t even think of your favorite three albums of one of your favorite bands.
"Black Widow, GODMODE, and A Star-Crossed Wasteland, she answered, almost without thinking. It amused you to imagine she'd spent her whole life for someone to ask her that question. "And yours?"
"Black Widow is my favorite, too," you agreed. "Blood, and A Star-Crossed Wasteland."
"Oh, two in common and in the same position," she pointed out, smiling. "If the new album hadn't been so good, it would agree with Blood, too…”
For the rest of the evening, the focus was on your favorite bands, as they played in the background.
You finished faster than last week, as Wanda was willing to use her powers for you to just arrange the background and take the pictures, instead of searching in every corner of the kitchen - you only had to ask, and it appeared.
“Alright, we're done...” she concluded, excited. “Now, let me pack this food and put it in the fridge,” and with a snap of her fingers, it was already packed and subsequently perfectly placed inside the fridge.
“Impressive,” you exclaimed, not ceasing to show your admiration, just like every time she used her powers. If you didn't look so cute, Wanda would have grown irritated at you a long time ago.
“Now, I owe you a dinner,” she said. She never told you, but she was so eager to finish quickly because that way, when her sons returned from the internship, you and her would have spent a significant time together.
And so it happened... just as Wanda was leading you out of the door, you noticed that it opened, and you met who would probably be Tommy.
"Oh, finally I have the pleasure to meet the famous (Y/N)," was the first thing he said. So Wanda... "Billy hasn't shut up about you."
You forced a smile, "That's... nice," you hesitated. "I have a feeling he's going to be a great friend, and I hope you are too."
Tommy noted the intent of your response, but decided to reply, "Of course," with a small chuckle. "In fact, you should come play tennis with us next Saturday."
"Oh, I don't know how to..."
"I'll teach you," Wanda quickly interjected, and that hope in her eyes made your decision easier in an instant.
"Well... will you send me the address?" I asked.
"Rest assured."
When you said goodbye to Wanda and Tommy, Billy was climbing the steps to the doorway, and he smiled broadly at you.
"Hi, (Y/N)!" he exclaimed happily. "Have you eaten yet? If not, we can go have something and catch up."
Oh, how kind he was...
"Thank you, your mom and I already had dinner."
It was Saturday, and you were walking around the room in your apartment. Your best friend, Kate, was already starting to get dizzy.
"Kate! It's a country club!" You exclaimed, for probably the twentieth time. "People there probably eat pizza with silverware, and know the use of all ten thousand kinds of forks. I won't fit in..."
"It's just a tennis game! I'd understand if it was golf, but tennis?! You'll be fine!" She groaned.
"I look ridiculous..." you shook your head, looking at yourself in the mirror. "I mean, what is this cap? And why all white? Am I getting baptized or something?"
"Hey! Do you want to fit in? This is the outfit," she countered. "You look hot, surely Wanda will drool over you when she sees those legs," she cheered you up
"Surely it will be Billy," you sighed, disappointed.
"Wanda too, from what you've told me..."
"No, this is one of the situations where I'm misinterpreting a hint of validation from an older, beautiful woman," you quickly denied. "And as always, my best friend is encouraging my delusions."
"Really? Name one situation."
"That Italian woman who I photographed with her family for several Christmas sessions?"
"Ha! She looked at you funny."
"Yeah, that's why she turned down my invitation to dinner when I finally found the courage, saying I knew she had a husband and kids."
"Uhm... she refused just because she had a husband and kids, not because she didn't like you!" She quickly justified, and you couldn't help but laugh, forgetting for a moment the nerves that were eating at you.
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imthenatynat · 20 days
Text
bridges burnt - chapter 1 [epilogue series] (regina george x reader)
fandom: Mean Girls (all media)
pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader
summary: When an invitation to Gretchen Wieners' wedding ended up in your mailbox, you'd been sure it was a mistake. Only, it read your name in neat, swoopy calligraphy. It was addressed to you. And Regina George, whom you hadn't spoken to in years.
additional clarification: This is set in the universe of yard work, a series of mine that can be found on my page! Reading this one might be a bit challenging without the context of the series :)
very necessary note: Okay, fuck, it was supposed to be a one shot. Then I got excited. So have another freakin' Regina George series. Set in the same universe as yard work! Reading that provides some essential context, but you do you! I don't think it's unreadable without it.
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You adjusted your tie for perhaps the millionth time. It was a silky blue, befitting your navy suit. You fiddled with your cufflinks, silver like all your accessories, then pulled out the baby blue handkerchief to wipe down your glasses, then folded it pack into your pocket, then bent to redo your laces, then-
"For fuck's sake, the ceremony hasn't even started yet!" Amanda nudged you violently.
"Ow!" You hissed, elbowing her back. She slapped your knee, hard.
"Get yourself together." She glowered, pointing a manicured finger at your nose. "It's worse enough I have to be here at all. You're not gonna ruin this for me."
"You're here for the open bar and free food. I paid for the flights, the room, the car." You bit back. "I'm allowed to be nervous."
"There's nervous, then there's this." Amanda looked you up and down pointedly, noting your bouncing knee.
You squeezed at said knee, trying to calm down. Like you'd been trying to do since hours ago. No results so far.
"Look, buddy, it's just a wedding. You don't even really know her. I get you... Have a history with the bride, or whatever, but it's gonna be so fine."
"It's not Gretchen I'm worried about." You mumbled.
"Whoever. It's gonna be fine." Amanda said, flippant as ever. How she was so carefree all the time was mind-boggling to you.
"This place is filled with people from high school. God." You looked around. "That guy over there, don't look, with the receding hairline- I said don't look!"
"Be more specific, every man here has a receding hairline. The demographic is excruciatingly pallid."
"Shut up, girl," You shook your head but couldn't help but laugh. It was mostly white people here. "The one with the wife that looks exactly like him, unbelievably blonde, kinda mousy," You waited for her eyes to latch onto the man you were talking about. "He used to buy weed from me, like, every week, and then went around spreading rumours about me."
"Ungrateful." Amanda scoffed. "And look at him, a wife, child, and probably a 401k. That's how it goes for boys like them."
"Yeah." You sighed. "How's the salon doing, by the way?"
"Thriving. Thanks to you. But I worked my ass off." You lifted your arms in surrender. She had worked hard to keep the place afloat for as long as she had, so even if you hadn't invested she would've found a way.
Amanda cast you a meaningful look. "You're doing better than ever, aren't you? Financially speaking. How's everything else?"
"Well, y'know..." You shrugged. "It's complicated." You looked down. Amanda patted your knee, a sympathetic smile on her face.
"You got a nice suit, though." She pointed out.
"Oh, for sure. Look at these, custom cufflinks." You showed off the silver bits. "Do you think these rings are too much?"
"Don't you usually have an ungodly amount of them on?"
"I usually just have these three." On your right pinky was your Engineer's Ring. On your left thumb was an embroidered steel band and on the pointer of that same hand a ring with a big emerald embedded in a bed of crystals.
"It's not too much." Amanda took your hand and inspected the rings. "More like sexy." She grinned at you, all sorts of innuendo right on display.
You scoffed and turned towards the altar. The pews were getting fuller by the minute. You were sitting far enough from the front to show you weren't important but not too far as to hint you didn't want to be there. You were on the bride's side, though it didn't matter much. You didn't know Gretchen any better than her husband-to-be.
Amanda had come with you for moral support. You'd been roommates in college and you hadn't been able to shake her off since. She'd grown on you, though you often acted more begrudged than you felt. She'd helped you out a lot over the years.
She'd been there when you couldn't leave the dorms, trapped in the vicious clutches of paranoia. She'd been there helping you get back on your feet when dad's businesses started going, one by one, each more explosive than the last. She was there when you moved back to that little town in Illinois, where Northshore still stood.
You liked to think you'd been equally as integral to her, but that was perhaps a reach. She was fiercely independent, resourceful, and charming enough to make friends with anyone. When the first chance to help her came, you didn't hesitate to take it. She'd opened up her salon right after graduation, staying in New York while you moved back home, and had been doing well until now. Unexpected costs and a wicked plumbing bill had landed her in some hot water.
For the small price of one favour and eternal bragging rights, you'd shoved your newly acquired wealth at her. Dragging her to Vermont in October to attend Gretchen's wedding was you cashing in on that favour.
Eventually, the proceedings began. The groom and his men walked in with little fanfare, mild music playing as they went. Most faces you did not recognize, but there was one back of the head that seemed eerily familiar.
The groom, a classically handsome man, a boring prince type, went to stand at the altar. He had an expectant glimmer in his eye. At least Gretchen's taste in men had improved. Then again, anything beat the scrubs she'd used to keep around.
Behind the groom, his line of groomsmen settled, the best man fronting the crowd. The man of the hour was in a classic black tux while the others flanking him were dressed in different shades of brown. The whole shebang was sort of beige with a little bit of burnt orange thrown in. Amidst the shades of umber, russet, and sepia, stood a familiar face.
Aaron Samuels. You didn't have much time to agonize about him being here before the bridesmaids were stepping through the aisle. Similar dresses but in lighter shades, clearly made to match a certain groomsman. You didn't recognize any of them.
The maid of honour was a little odd. Her makeup seemed to be a lot thicker on one side, like there were several layers of foundation caked on. Her eye makeup on that side was a little heavy also, but she was past you by the time you could wonder why.
"The maid of honour totally has a black eye," Amanda whispered to you.
"No way," You hissed back, trying to get an angle where you could see her face. As she settled in place, facing the pews, even moderately far away you could see that, yeah, she totally was covering up a black eye. Wild bachelorette party, then.
Coos and aws resounded through the church as the flower girl and the ring bearer came toddling down. A little girl, cheeks all red, and looking like she wanted to be anywhere else, and a slightly older boy with an almost manic look in his eye. The girl was in no mood to be tossing petals, so the boy reached into her basket and threw a big fistful of them in the air. The rings rolled off of their pillow but found their way back.
"Oops," The boy said, smiling sheepishly right as the photographer came in to capture the moment. Chuckles echoed through the space.
By the time they reached the end of the aisle, the little girl was dutifully carrying the pillow on which the rings were and the boy was joyously tossing flower petals everywhere. As god intended.
Then came the bride. Escorted by her father, who was beaming with a mouth full of veneers, Gretchen Wieners made her appearance.
It wasn't disappointment that you felt. Not relief, either. It was hard to describe. You'd been expecting anger or some catharsis. This was the person who'd outed you to your whole school, who'd been the catalyst to the worst year of your life, why didn't you feel more?
High school had been over for almost ten years. You carried scars, deep ones that still ached on bad days but at the end of the day, they were just scars. You were doing better than ever. Gretchen had been a bully, had brought you to ruin once upon a time, but who was to say it couldn't all be built again?
You smiled. She looked beautiful. A white dress, a long veil, hair done big, bigger and more grandiose than you'd ever seen, and looking like, well, a bride.
You'd moved on. Considering how she'd invited you too, and knowing Gretchen she was acutely aware of every person in attendance, she had moved on too. You could recognize an olive branch when one was given to you.
That didn't explain the invitation, though. Maybe it was a mistake. Gretchen wasn't known for making those, but she was human too. Right?
"Look, they're totally enthralled by each other. You're gonna be fine." Amanda whispered, ignoring the elderly lady seated next to her shooting daggers through her eyes at you two.
"Yeah. It's gonna be fine."
Notes: Got really ill at the beginning of this week, which delayed this chapter quite a bit. You don't realize quite how awesome breathing is until you can't do it properly. Getting better slowly, it's nothing serious, but the cough is lingering. It is what it is.
This chapter was mostly setting up the narrative, no Reggie and Jorts interactions as of yet. I'm not making any promises because I'm so shit at keeping them, but hoping that this series will be shorter than the original one.
Taglist posted seperately!
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imthenatynat · 20 days
Text
"God Must Hate Me"
Based on this request
Summary: When your girlfriend tells you what's making her withdraw from everyone, what do you do?
Warnings: Nat lowkey hating herself. Mentions of God. Self-hatred. Mentions of numbness. Mentions of Red Room. Mention of scars.
----
It had been almost a year since you started dating Natasha Romanoff, and everything had been going perfectly. But lately, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Natasha seemed to be withdrawing from you, from her friends, and from her sister too.
You noticed it first when Natasha stopped joining you for movie nights. She used to love cuddling up with you on the couch, sharing popcorn and watching your favorite films. But now, she always had some excuse to avoid it.
"Nat, I rented that movie you wanted to watch," you'd say hopefully, holding up the DVD as she passed by.
"Sorry, babe, I'm really tired tonight. Maybe another time," she'd reply with a forced smile, already halfway out the door.
You shrugged it off at first, thinking she was just going through a busy time at work. But then you noticed she was avoiding her friends too.
"Hey, Nat, Pepper's invited us over for dinner tonight. She's making your favorite lasagna," you'd say, trying to tempt her.
"Thanks, but I think I'm just going to stay in tonight. I have a lot of paperwork to catch up on," she'd reply, barely looking up from her laptop.
Even Yelena couldn't seem to get through to her.
"Natasha, we never see each other anymore. Can we please have lunch together today?" Yelena would ask, looking hurt.
"I'm sorry, Lena, I just have a lot on my mind right now. Rain check?" Natasha would reply, not meeting her sister's eyes.
But it wasn't just her friends and family she was avoiding. Natasha seemed to be retreating into herself more and more each day. You'd find her in the gym for hours on end, pushing herself to the limit with no explanation.
"Nat, you've been in here for three hours. Don't you think you should take a break?" you'd ask, concerned.
"I'm fine, Y/n. I just need to work off some steam," she'd reply, not even breaking a sweat.
Or you'd find her in the garden, sitting alone and gazing off into the distance.
"Natasha, is everything okay?" you'd ask softly, sitting down beside her.
She'd startle slightly, as if she hadn't even realized you were there.
"Yeah, everything's fine. I'm just… thinking," she'd reply vaguely, not meeting your eyes.
And then there were the times when she would accidentally ignore you, lost in her own thoughts.
"Nat, I was talking to you," you'd say, trying to get her attention.
"Huh? Sorry, what did you say?" she'd reply, looking confused.
You watched all of this unfold, feeling more and more confused and sad with each passing day. You didn't understand why Natasha was pulling away from everyone, including you. You tried to give her space, hoping she would open up to you eventually. But as the days turned into weeks, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong.
---
As you finished your day's work at the hospital, your mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Natasha. Clint's call had left you deeply concerned. You knew something was wrong, and you couldn't shake the feeling of dread as you drove home.
Pulling into the driveway, you noticed Natasha sitting on the porch, her gaze fixed on the neighbor's child playing with her dog and toys. There was a sadness in her eyes that made your heart ache.
As you sat silently beside her, Natasha broke the silence with a heavy sigh.
"Do you ever see someone and think, 'Wow, God must hate me'?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
You didn't respond verbally; instead, you simply placed your hand on hers, offering silent support, waiting for her to continue.
"'Cause He spent so much time on them, " she gestured towards the family in the backyard. The father and mother had joined the child, and they looked so happy together. "And for me, He got lazy. Got ample mental illness, personality flaws…" Her fingers subconsciously clenched. "Like, have you seen me? Yelena? Melina and Alexei? How messed up we are."
"While their only flaw seems to be that they have none at all," she continued, gesturing again towards the family. The child sat on the father's shoulders while their mother took a picture of them.
And then Natasha repeated, her voice heavy with emotion, "Do you ever see someone and think, 'Wow, God must hate me'? Because I do."
As Natasha's words hung heavy in the air, you felt your heart breaking for her. Gently, you spoke up, your voice soft but firm.
"Nat, it's not your fault. None of it is. It's the Red Room's fault, Dreykov's fault, for putting you through all of that," you said, trying to reassure her. "And maybe even God's fault, if one chose to believe in the almighty."
She let out a bitter laugh, her sarcasm cutting through the air like a knife.
"For everything that's wrong with me, I can't hold myself responsible. So I blame the metaphysical, because obviously, they're the ones who killed those people, not me, because I wasn't the one holding the gun," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Natasha continued to speak, her words weighing heavily on your heart.
"You know, a nun came up to me today. She told me that Jesus died for all our sins. If Jesus died for all our sins… He left one behind, the body I'm in," she said, her voice filled with sorrow.
Then, in her usual defensive humor, she added, "That means that the same hands that made the moon and the stars obviously got carpal tunnel and forgot some parts."
You didn't chuckle at her attempt at humor. Instead, you intertwined your fingers with hers, a silent gesture of comfort, and told her not to speak like that.
"I thought you didn't even believe in God," you said softly.
But Natasha continued, her voice barely above a whisper, "I don't know what I believe. But it's easier to think He made a mistake with me."
You felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of her words hitting you like a ton of bricks.
As the neighbor's child laughed loudly, climbing up the tree in their backyard, her mother fretting while her father cheered her on, Natasha smiled wistfully at them.
" Do you ever see someone and think, 'Wow, they got lucky'? The craftsmanship of their bones, their brain, and their body," she said softly, her gaze fixed on the family.
She seemed to drift into a reverie before continuing, "All I got at her age…" She pointed to the girl. "Was a fake family, scars, and pain."
"Babe," you started, unsure of what to say.
But Natasha continued, her voice distant, "When I look into the mirror for too long, it hurts. And don't get me started on how I eat. I can eat the least amount of food ever and want to enjoy myself with one dessert, and see another person do the same, except they don't track how many steps it takes to burn off dessert."
Do you ever see someone and think "Wow, they got lucky"
I'll let 'em take accountability For everything that's wrong with me Can't hold myself responsible So I'll blame the metaphysical If Jesus died for all our sins He left one behind, the body I'm in Same hands that made the moon and the stars Got carpal tunnel and forgot some parts
I don't know what I believe But it's easier to think He made a mistake with me
Do you ever see someone and think "Wow, God must hate me" 'Cause He spent so much time on them and for me, He got lazy
You listened quietly, feeling her pain as if it were your own. You wanted to tell her that she was beautiful, that she was perfect just the way she was. But you knew that words alone wouldn't be enough to heal her wounds. Natasha's words overwhelmed you, the lump in your throat growing bigger. You wanted to cry too, but you held it in, knowing that Natasha needed you to be strong for her.
"I'll be right back, Nat," you said softly, gently pulling away from her and making your way into the house.
Once inside, you took a deep breath, trying to gain some emotional control. And so you busied yourself making a cup of tea for Natasha, knowing that if you went out right no, you'd be of no help and she'd just shut you out.
As you looked out the window, you noticed that it had started raining. You felt a pang of worry when you saw Natasha still sitting on the porch, getting soaked by the rain.
Without a second thought, you rushed back outside, ignoring the rain as you pulled Natasha in from the porch. She didn't respond, but you wrapped her in the warmest hug you could manage, holding her close despite the rain soaking through your clothes.
"Do you want to change?"
Natasha remained numb not replying , so you too matters into your own hands. You gently scooped her into your arms, carrying her upstairs to the bathroom. She didn't resist, didn't protest, just allowed you to take care of her.
You stripped her out of her wet clothes, bathing her gently, all the while she remained unresponsive. You helped her into your favorite pajamas of hers, knowing how much she loved wearing them, and then tucked her into bed, attending to her needs with care and tenderness.
Despite holding back your own tears, you offered her words of comfort, reassuring her that you were there for her, that you would always be there for her.
Finally, as you tucked her in properly, Natasha showed the first sign of emotion. She grabbed onto your now wet t-shirt, pleading with you not to go, repeating the words over and over again like a mantra.
You gently brushed the hair away from her face, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.
"I'm not going anywhere, Nat," you whispered, your voice filled with reassurance. "I'm just going to change my clothes, and then I'll be right back. I promise."
With one last comforting squeeze, you reluctantly pulled away, leaving Natasha alone in the bed as you made your way to the bathroom to change.
After you changed into dry clothes, you climbed back into bed with Natasha, gently dragging her into your arms so that your back was resting against the headboard, and she was nestled between your legs with her back to your front. You wrapped your arms securely around her waist, resting your head on her shoulder, holding her close as she remained numb and silent.
"Nat," you began softly, your voice steady but full of emotion, "I know you feel like everything you've been through defines you, but I want you to see the other side of it too."
She stayed quiet, but you continued, knowing she was listening.
"You talked about your childhood and how it felt like a fake family. But that 'fake' family is the one who threatened to end me when you told them we were dating," you said, a small smile playing on your lips at the memory. "They cared for you so much that when we had that huge argument, Alexei broke down my door and shattered my vase, just to make sure you were okay."
Natasha's fingers twitched slightly, a sign she was absorbing your words.
"That 'fake' family knew you so well that Melina sent me your favorite foods when you were feeling down. And Yelena, she almost killed Clint and me because of Vormir. She loves you so much, Nat. They all do."
You could feel her body gradually relaxing ever so slightly in your embrace.
"And let's not forget the Avengers. Clint has scolded me more times than I can count when we fought. Tony gave us a whole ass house to live in. Steve and Sam drop by weekly just to check in. Wanda and Peter are practically our kids. Kate and Yelena—they're like sisters to us, though I'm sure they're dating at this point. Maria and Fury even gave me death threats when they thought I hurt you, and they are scary, almost enough to rival you and Lena."
You paused, feeling a lump form in your throat as you continued, "Whether or not you realize it, you're so lucky to have people who love you like that. The Red Room did awful things to you, but it didn't destroy you. It made you who you are today. A survivor. A sister. A daughter. A friend. A best friend. A girlfriend."
Tears filled your eyes, but you held them back, focusing on Natasha.
"I'm not saying the Red Room made you stronger, because that would dismiss the pain you've been through. But it shaped you into the incredible person you are. And you are loved, so deeply and fiercely."
You held Natasha tightly, feeling her slowly beginning to trust your words as her body leaned into yours for comfort. The rain continued to fall outside, creating a soothing background noise as you continued to speak, wanting to reassure her as much as you could.
"And that thing you said about not being able to look at yourself in the mirror? That's total bull crap," you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Because you look so freaking hot and sexy to me, Nat. Every time I see you, I can't believe how lucky I am."
You felt her body relax a little more in your arms, and you took a deep breath, continuing.
"I love you, regardless of anything. The Red Room, Dreykov, all the horrible things that happened—they don't define you. What defines you is your heart, your strength, your kindness. And if God really does exist, yeah, he put you through some serious shit, and I hate him for that. But he sure made up for it with the family you've gotten, and he sure as hell blessed me by giving you to me."
Natasha's grip on your arm tightened even more, and she turned slightly to look at you, tears in her eyes.
"Don't go," she whispered again, her voice breaking.
"I'm not going anywhere," you assured her, your own voice trembling with emotion. "I'm here, and I'm staying right here with you."
You held her tightly, feeling her slowly begin to trust your words, her body leaning into yours for comfort. As the rain continued to fall outside, you both sat there in silence, wrapped in each other's embrace, knowing that together, you could face whatever came next.
"I love you, Nat," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. "And I'm here for you, always."
She nodded slightly, her head resting against your chest. "I love you too," she murmured, her voice soft but filled with emotion.
As Natasha finally fell asleep, cuddled up against you, you carefully reached for your phone, not wanting to disturb her. You opened the "Widow Family" group chat, which consisted of Yelena, Alexei, Melina, Natasha, and you. You quickly typed out a message:
WIDOW FAMILY 🕷️🕸️
You: Hey Nat rlly needs u all right now. Can u come by in about an hour?
Within moments, replies started to come in:
White Widow: I'll be there.
Red Guardian: Of course! I’ll bring borscht!
Mother Widow: On my way.
Feeling reassured, you then switched to the "Earth's Best Squabblers" group chat, which included all the Avengers. You typed out another message:
EARTH'S BEST SQUABBLERS 🤡🤡
You: Hey guys Nat rlly needs u rn Can u come by ASAP?
The responses were almost immediate:
Tin Can: On my way. Pepper & Morgan too
Capsicle: Be there soon.
Birdy 1: Already heading over. Laura and the kids are tagging
Green Bean: I'll be there.
Metal Arm: Be there in 20
Birdy 1's 2.0: Lena and I are on our way.
Point Break: I shall arrive promptly!
Witchy: I'm coming.
Birdy 2: Be there in a few.
Spidey Boy: Swinging over now!
You put your phone down, feeling a surge of gratitude for the people in your life. Carefully, you adjusted yourself, making sure Natasha was as comfortable as possible without waking her. You held her close, watching her sleep, knowing that soon, the people who loved her most would be there to support her.
--
When Natasha began to stir and slowly opened her eyes, you gave her a gentle smile, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
"Hey, sleepyhead," you said softly. "Someone's here to see you."
She looked at you curiously, and you took her hand, leading her downstairs. As you approached the living room, the sounds of laughter and chatter grew louder. Natasha's eyes widened in surprise when she saw everyone gathered.
The room was filled with laughter and chatter. Yelena, Kate, Wanda, Peter, Lily and Cooper were huddled in one corner, engaged in animated conversation. Alexei, Steve, Tony, Clint, Sam, Bucky, and Rhodey were sharing beers and laughing loudly. Pepper, Melina, and Laura were chatting away in another corner, their voices blending into a soothing hum. Nathaniel and Morgan were playing on the floor, while Lila and Cooper were with Peter and Kate, joining in the fun.
Yelena, Kate, Wanda, and Peter were huddled in one corner, talking animatedly. Alexei, Steve, Tony, Clint, Sam, Bucky, and Rhodey were sharing beers and exchanging stories. Pepper, Melina, and Laura were chatting away, their faces lit up with smiles.
As you led Natasha into the room, everyone turned to greet her, their faces lighting up with warmth and affection. You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and guided her further into the room.
Natasha looked around, her eyes softening as she took in the sight of her family and friends, all here for her. You could see the gratitude and love in her eyes.
"Hey, everyone," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Yelena rushed over, pulling her into a tight hug. "About time you woke up, sestra."
"Hey, Nat," Steve called out, raising his beer in a toast. "Good to see you."
One by one, everyone came over to greet her, sharing their love and support. The room was filled with warmth and laughter, a stark contrast to the somber mood from earlier.
As the evening went on, you found yourself sitting on the couch with Natasha perched on your lap, your arms wrapped around her protectively. She was joking around with everyone, her smile genuine and her laughter heartfelt.
At one point, she leaned in close to your ear and whispered, "Thank you."
You smiled, feeling your heart swell with love. "I love you, Nat," you whispered back. "And so do they."
She looked around the room, taking in the faces of her family and friends, and nodded. "I know," she said softly. "I really do."
You held her close, feeling a sense of peace settle over both of you. In that moment, surrounded by the people who loved her most, you knew that Natasha was starting to heal. And you would be there, every step of the way.
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imthenatynat · 21 days
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Strawberry Kisses
Natasha Romanoff x F!R
FWB’s to Lovers | Fluff | No Smut, but Alluded to / Motor-boating | 18+ / Minors DNI
Natasha’s home… Will you finally tell her? | WC: 1,568
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It was a beautiful Spring day, you laid beneath the only tree that you'd ever been able to without having to worry about allergies, in total contentment. An arm extended upwards, tirelessly holding a book up to block out the bright white sun so as to not burn your retinas. Even if it meant the ache in your arm was ever present, the muscles around your locked elbow crying for relief but the main character was just about to—.
——
A disgruntled sigh left your lips and brushed over her chuckling face, Natasha playfully tossed your book aside. You could glare for only a second before you were staring in awe at the angel above you. The sun casted an incandescent glow around her auburn hair, bright enough for you to see the softly smiling redhead with a heart filled with chocolate covered strawberries.
It was the sweetest thing you'd ever seen, her eyes sparkled and her lips upturned gently as she shook it, then she paused and your eyes locked with intensity.
The both of you stared for a few seconds, silently retracing the other's features before you abruptly took the container from her and lifted it onto the blanket behind you just to reach for the lapels of her jet black leather jacket, buckling her elbows with a rough tug.
Her giggled breath brushed over your cheek as your huff trailed down her neck bringing on goosebumps. It fell silent for a moment before you nudged her cheek with yours and she pulled back with an adoring smile. Your face soon mirrored hers until she shook her head.
"But—." Natasha shook her head again then moved on.
Next thing you know she is leaning over you, the swell of her silky chest felt on both of your cheeks and you decided to tease her back as you playfully blew a raspberry against her skin while shaking your head.
Natasha snorted in surprise, "seriously detka?"
"What, we were merely becoming reacquainted," you deadpanned only to shake with laughter when her face returned to above yours with a feigned offense etched into her scowl. "I'm trying to be romantic; asshole!"
"Oh," you clutched your chest and gasped, "my heart is beating rapidly in my chest, the pet-name you have bestowed upon me inspires butterflies, Natasha, my—."
Natasha grunted then suddenly you were choking on the tart juice of the chocolate covered strawberry your full time best friend and (only) part time lover bought for you, apparently. The deflective teasing was pissing her off, a blurred flash of green crossed over your vision, you gasped a full breath in only to lose your air again when her tongue and lips collided with yours.
For a few short moments she kissed you dumb, not long enough for the tension to be unbearable, but felt.
Then she was pulling back with an accomplished smirk and you were once again glaring at her for stopping, but then you were frowning as you felt your heart skip in a way that was not foreign to you, just kept secret.
Tired eyes stared into yours and you decided to take a chance, because you felt at ease with your gazes locked and that had never happened for you before. Where a person can just calm you with reassuring presence. It was clear that she was expecting you to speak, a very hopeful twinkle in her eyes that beamed with comfort.
Natasha watched you gulp with a repressed smirk on her face that softened into a reminiscent smile as she pictured your last moment together, before she was called away on a mission that extended beyond the original date. Natasha wanted to be back in time to ask you out for Valentine's Day, she was done waiting for you to make the first move, but alas she missed it.
She left only a few days before New Year's, where she knew, through potential spying, that you planned to kiss her when the clock struck midnight, in front of all of your close friends to finally solidify the relationship after a full year of secret nights spent together.
Natasha was tired of running from the truth, she loved you and she hated that when you were finally ready to take that leap she had to sully your confidence and go.
"I want more," you blurted out breathily, tone soft but message firm as your eyes held hers for longer than the usual few seconds you could manage. "This has to be more than a secret we keep from our family, Tasha."
Natasha rolled her eyes playfully, as if she wasn't the first of you two to think this. With her face hovering yours as she propped herself up on one elbow so that she could cup your cheek with her free hand she leaned in to kiss you tenderly and whispered the truth, "It is. Do you think I make these hearts for just anyone?"
You giggled softly, "I'd hope not, am I the other wo—?"
"Shut up," she groaned in faux annoyance, pushing your chuckling face into the blanket and only smiling herself when your eyes closed due to the overwhelm of your laughter. "Don't ever worry Y/N, it's just you."
"I love you," you were overjoyed and couldn't hold back anymore, Natasha felt her heart pounding in her chest as she heard the words in a new light, and you merely offered her panicked gaze a smile that bled with nothing more than pure understanding and warmth.
This time, as her lips crashed into yours, there was a different understanding, the casual energy that once served to preserve a friendship dissipated and was replaced with the love you both wanted to express.
After an entire hour, intermittently spent making out, only to be broken up by one of you giggling joyfully, you could sense that Natasha was growing tired. The redhead protested when you refused to meet her lips in another passionate lip lock, she huffed and tried again.
"Detka," she whined pitifully, "I haven't been home for so long, are you seriously already tired of kissing me?"
"No, I should honestly jump your bones," you softly humored the woman, but before she could grow too excited for deeper intimacy, you pressed on, "I am however aware that you haven't been sleeping much, and I for one would like to finish the book you got me ages ago so I'd appreciate it if you'd just lay on my chest so that we both can finally find a bit of peace."
There was resistance in her exhausted eyes, there always was when she weighed out her options. To her it would be a huge task to give into your mothering, to allow you the space to make decisions for her, but the longer she thought it over the less resistance she felt.
A yawn soon left her swollen lips after a few moments of contemplation and she softly agreed, placing a few kisses to any bare skin she could find to show her brimming gratitude and love—a once foreign concept.
Where trepidation once controlled her she felt ease, a heart that had only ever been broken on the mend and she only had you to thank, with your easy smile and comforting touch; she melted into you, her comfort.
A soft snore left your lovers lips and only then did you lift your book, using the hand that was just rubbing the redheads back beneath her shirt to do so. There was only ten pages left when she tore it from your grasp and so it wasn't hard to pick back up where you left off.
"Oh my god," you quietly gasped, a little smile on your face and a tear in your eye as you finished the sentence. The entire book was a whirlwind romance between the best of friends, much like yours, but in the last chapter the happiness imploded as one revealed their feelings.
A pang of relief flooded your heart as you put the book down and managed to pull Natasha even closer so that you could kiss her forehead then simply appreciate her.  The odds were stacked high against your love with your shared careers and both of your pasts haunting you to this day, yet you both somehow overcame the odds.
It was a learning curve, learning to accept the love of another and the alarming codependency that followed.
Somewhere along the way, in the moments where you were apart you began to ache for her, your focus being lost on whatever continent she was on. You couldn't even complete the simplest of tasks, such as reading.
Natasha was more worried about her ability to sleep, she's always had insomnia and been a light sleeper, but she got used to the REM that came alongside you. It actually alarmed her the first night she slept through, the only environment change being your body by hers.
Natasha might've even avoided you for a week after...
Now, the both of you embrace the intimate reality of your situation, and unlike the characters in your saga there was no need for a cliffhanger, so here you lay with the love of your life asleep on your chest, a long sigh leaving your lips as you lift the sequel to the sky.
Natasha could sleep, you could read; life was perfect.
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imthenatynat · 22 days
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Inked Desires - Part 3
(Part 1) (Part 2)
Pairing: gp!Natasha × fem!Reader
Tags Minors DNI: natasha has a dick, miscommunication, unprotected sex, breeding, cheesy shit
Masterlist
A/n: Thank you to everyone who stuck around for this part, and thank you for 1,000 followers! 🥳 There are no more parts to this, but I do have some drabbles I'd like to write for it if y'all are interested 🫶 Please leave some feedback, and thank you again for reading ❤️
Art Creds for the first 2 pics: @sweet--escape17 (Please go check out their art, it's amazing!)
Also, shoutout: @oolsen (Thanks for helping me with the plot when I get stuck!)
****
Your eyes glaze over as you stare at the screen of your phone, looking at the same messages that had been sitting in your conversation with Natasha for the past week. You replay the events from the last night you saw her at Joe's bar, wondering where you went wrong. An entire week, gone, and not a single text. No 'Good Morning'. No 'Have a great day'. No ridiculous smiling emojis attached to an even more ridiculous joke. Instead, a one-sided conversation with yourself:
Y/N: I had so much fun last night!
Y/N: Have a good day, baby <3
Y/N: Maybe we can get together soon? Kate told me about a fair happening nearby next weekend. I think that might be fun!
Y/N: Hey, is everything okay?
It wasn't like Natasha to not text you back. The two of you had practically talked every day since meeting, and when you hadn't, she always had a good reason for not replying. Most of the time, it had been you that was too busy to text back... but now the quietness of the empty chat in the palm of your hand allowed an eerie loneliness to seep into your chest, along with a feeling of guilt.
***
"Come on, it'll be fun! " Kates voice rings in your ear from your phone. A sigh spills from your lips as you shake your head, knowing she can't see you.
"I don't know, I'm just not really in the mood..." You mumble into the speaker and silently thank the man who opens the door for you. The smell of freshly brewed coffee enters your nose, a small sense of comfort filling the cracks in your chest.
"Well, you don't really have a choice. You already know I'm dragging you with me... Plus, you can't be in a bad mood when you're eating caramel popcorn," You can practically see the grin on Kates face, knowing how much you loved the simple fair treat. You can also hear movement from the other side of the phone, raising an eyebrow as Kate shuffles around.
"Alright then, fine. Only for the popcorn," you sigh again as Kate cheers. She tells you goodbye as you walk up to the counter to order your usual latte. You pay and move to the opposite side of the counter to await your drink, when you spot a familiar red head in the corner.
Your eyes widen, chest bursting at the sight of Natasha. The feelings hit you all at once, guilt, anger, confusion. Overwhelmingly at the top, happiness. Her brows pull together in concentration at the paper, headphones rest atop her head as she sketches away in a notebook. Her short sleeve shirt reveals her inked skin, and you feel the familiar desire for her all over again.
You give yourself a second longer to stare, a second longer to mentally prepare yourself for what you want to say. Where have you been? Why haven't you texted me back? But as you step closer to the table, and her kind green eyes move away from the paper and to your not so composed stature, your mind seemingly empties.
"Hi," you say with a small smile after she removes her headphones. Natasha clears her throat awkwardly. You want to kiss her red cheeks.
"Y/N, hey," the smile she gives you back doesn't seem genuine, causing your own to fade.
"I've texted you a few times. Is... everything okay?" You ask, a small tilt of your head.
"Um, yeah, you know. I've just been busy?" She avoids your eyes, her body language distant as she crosses her arms with a shrug. You glimpse at the notebook open on the table, an intricate design of lines and shapes, before she closes it abruptly. "I actually have to get to work," Natasha sighs and throws the notebook and pencils into her bag. You don't miss the fact she's not wearing her work shirt.
"Right." You click your tongue as she stands, the tension in the air killing both of you.
As badly as Natasha wanted to pull you into her arms and kiss the worry off of your face, she couldn't. She couldn't deal with the fact she wanted more and that it was reciprocated. She couldn't deal with the fact that she wanted late night talks and laughs, while assuming you only wanted late night hookups. She couldn't deal with the fact that she liked you more than she thought she would, while assuming your interest in her was not on the same level.
"Look, can we talk?" Your soft tone surprises her as she stands, her tall frame towering over you. "Maybe tomorrow we can get together and just... talk. Huh, baby?" The term of endearment slips your tongue, and in a last ditch effort, your hand reaches out to softly touch her bicep.
Natasha finally meets your eyes again, and the two of you still for a moment, the coffee shop fading around you. She almost gives into you once again. She was weak against you. You feel her muscles tense in your grip, and the sound of your name being called by the barista takes her attention away from you. She takes a step backward and pulls on her pierced lip with her teeth.
"I uh, I'm hanging out with Yelena tomorrow," she rubs the back of her neck, attempting to sooth her nerves. You only stare up at her, feeling defeated. "Maybe next time."
You frown up at her, the feelings of confusion and anger rising to the surface as she refuses to look you in the eyes. "Sure. Next time."
Natasha opens her mouth to speak again, but no words come out. Instead, she turns her back to you and walks away, leaving you behind.
***
The next day, you found yourself once again staring at the empty conversation on your phone. You had typed up a million different messages, none of them sounding good enough to send. All night, you had tried to come up with the words to say to her. Ranging from paragraphs of you confessing your feelings to a simple, 'Hey, I like you. What are we doing?'
She had said she wanted more, didn't she? Why were you suddenly getting the cold shoulder?
You sigh aloud as you walk into your apartment building, calling Kate for the fourth time since you got off work early. In a rush this morning, you had forgotten your key, and you desperately hoped she was still there to let you in. Trudging slowly up the stairs, you get her voicemail - again.
As you walk up to the familiar sight of your door you knock hard, "Bishop, you'd better have a good fucking reason for not answering my calls," you joke and continue banging on the door. The lock clicks, and the door swings open. "I'm so glad you're home I-" you stop mid sentence, a now unfamiliar sight standing before you.
"Kate saw she had missed calls from you, I think she's hiding," Yelena laughs and steps back inside the apartment as you walk in behind her.
"Yelena.. I- what are you..?" Your heart picks up for a moment, assuming Natasha would be here with her.
"Oh, Kate invited me over for a movie day," her accent is thick as she speaks, and she gives you a friendly smile. Apparently, she was unaware of the current state between you and her sister.
"Aren't you hanging out with Natasha today?" You ask with a tilt of your head. Yelena raises an eyebrow and shakes her own head.
"No?" She questions and returns to her seat on the couch amongst a pile of pillows and blankets.
Your stomach drops. Natasha had lied to you. Why would she lie to you? Your mind begins to spiral at the list of reasons as to why she would. Kate walks out from the bathroom in the hall and sees the furious expression written on your face.
"Uh.. hey, you got off early!" Kate strides across the room towards you. "Everything okay?" She asks.
"Everything's great." You give her a bitter smile, making her eyes widen. "I'm sorry to interrupt your movie day," you look behind Kate to Yelena.
"Well, maybe since you're here, we can call Natasha over?" Yelena looks back to the now wide, sarcastic smile planted on your face.
"You know what, that's actually a great idea," you mutter and walk past Kate towards Yelena, who was already grabbing her phone.
"Y/N," Kate starts, but you quickly silence her with a glare.
"Oh, she finally answers!" Yelena laughs into the speaker and looks to you, blind to the situation unfolding in front of her. "Where are you at? Of course you are, that was a stupid question. Look, I'm at Y/N and Kates, we are having a movie day! Why don't you quit working out for 2 minutes and come over?"
At Yelenas words, you quickly walk to the kitchen counter where your key rests, grabbing it. She was at the gym, of course she was. You don't need to see Yelenas face change as you hear her English switch to fluent Russian. Natasha was finally filling her in. Kate gives you a look that you ignore as you leave the apartment and prepare yourself to make the 5 minute walk to Natashas gym.
The two of you passed by it any time you hung out, always pointing out the fact it was so close to your place and how you wondered why the two of you had never met before her party. Your footsteps are heavy against the sidewalk, and you don't give yourself a second to think about your current state. Still in your work uniformed shirt and slacks, hair a mess, eyes dark underneath from lack of sleep. It didn't matter. You were set on finally confronting her.
You walk inside to see Natasha standing by the weights, an unsurprised look on her face as she watches you move swiftly amongst the workout equipment. Your heart races in your chest, an uneasy feeling as Natasha begins to tower over you the closer you get. You try your best to ignore the tight black tank top she wore, along with the tight black shorts that showed off her toned and tatted thighs. You forced yourself to look only in her eyes.
"Y/N... let me explain," Natasha begins. You roll your eyes and ignore her words, anger bursting from every crack.
"So what is this then? You're just going to fuck me in a dirty bathroom bar then ignore me? Lie to me?" It leaves your mouth faster than you can think about it. Natasha meets your gaze at the words, a hurt expression on her face. Gone are the soft eyes once reserved for you, replaced with the cold stare everyone else receives.
"Are you kidding me? That's funny coming from you, Y/N," she scoffs, tone laced with venom.
"What the fuck does that mean?" You raise your voice, watching as Natasha steps forward towards you.
"Lower your tone," she commands, looking around the gym. You suddenly feel small. "I mean, that's all you want from me, isn't it? Look, I told you I wanted more of-of this," she motions between the two of you. "You don't, and that's fine, but stop trying to text me every time you need to get off." The last part is said in spite, and you feel as if you'd been pushed back. Natasha wanted to take it back as quick as she'd said it, but maybe being harsh was what she needed to get rid of her growing feelings towards you.
"Is that what you think I am? Just some slut trying to use you?" You spit back, watching her face twist in confusion.
"I never said that, Y/N."
"No, but it's implied."
"Unless the words leave my mouth, don't you dare put them in yourself."
"Is that seriously what you think?" You huff out. She nods, standing straight and crossing her arms.
"Well, yeah?" Her voice is unsure as she looks down at you. You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingers.
"You are a fucking idiot," you say with a shake of your head. Natasha face contorts as you look back up.
"Excuse m-"
"Why do you think I text you all the time to hang out? Why I invited you to hang out with my friends ?" You ask her in a serious tone, seeing her body language soften. "You want to talk about putting words in mouths? You don't get to say if I do or don't like you - and for your information, I do. A lot," you sigh as you finish your ramble.
"You do?" Is all she says, and you don't know if you want to slap her or kiss her.
"Of course I do.. I thought that was pretty obvious." It's your turn to cross your arms as she brings a hand up to rub her inked neck, her cheeks turning red to match the hair braided behind her.
"It's just - I thought maybe - You didn't -" She stumbles over her words, suddenly with a nervous demeanor.
Natasha wasn't prepared for this. She was prepared for an argument and then to never see you again. She hadn't given it a thought that you actually did reciprocate those feelings. And now here you were standing before her, in her mind, looking as beautiful as ever. She was putty, again.
"You didn't say anything that night back, so I just assumed.." her voice is soft to match her eyes, and you feel that guilt again, seeping out of you.
"Baby.. I'm so sorry. It was only because I was so excited that you felt the same way I did, I didn't know what to say," you reply just as soft and step forward. Natashas eyes spark with life at the use of her favorite word, leaving your lips, and her arm instinctively flexes as you touch her forearm. "Maybe next time, give a girl a moment to gather her thoughts?" You say with a small smile. Your heart leaps at the smile that spreads across her lips.
There's a moment of silence between the two of you, and just like before, the world seems to quiet and blur around you.
"Hi," Natasha chuckles, and you roll your eyes at the familiar game.
"Hi," You giggle back and reach up to cup her cheek. She leans down with a strong hand resting on your hip, lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss.
The two of your pull apart, but her large hand continues to rest on your side as you stand in front of her, now letting your eyes admire her toned muscles that were on display. The black lines on her skin move with every flex in her arm.
"Tell me more about this fair... will there be caramel popcorn?" Natasha asks. Your eyes shoot quickly up to hers as a warmth spreads through your chest.
You hadn't told her about your love for the snack. You lean up and kiss her again, ignoring the confused look on her face and letting yourself melt against her.
***
Lights of all colors of the rainbow seemed to flash around you. The sounds of laughter and screaming of people on the rides filled your ears. Your eyes search the area around you, watching as couples and families walk from stand to stand. A few teenagers run by, and a loud ringing and a cry of, "Winner!" catches your attention from next to you.
"Holy shit!" Kate laughs and taps your arm, showing you the brown teddy bear she won. You can't help but smile at the sight.
"Only took you about ten tries," you laugh along with her, reaching out to check out the bear. As you hand it back to her, you notice her eyes trail above your head. Then, a pair of thick arms wrap around your waist from behind. You can smell the familiar scent of the fragrance she wore.
"Well, well, what have we won?" Natasha asks from behind you. You lean back against her, smiling widely as she leans down to press a kiss to your cheek. "Pretty girl.." She mumbles in your ear, fingers tracing the material of your dress.
Things had been going great with Natasha since you talked about your miscommunication. Her morning texts returned, along with nightly chats over the phone until one of you fell asleep. She took you on dates, and you even went with her to the gym. Though, that mostly consisted of you shamelessly checking her out while she blushed gorgeously. You were happy, truly happy. One thing that had been building between the two of you was a certain... tension. The last time you both were intimate was the night at the bar. Since then, there have only been a few heavy make-out sessions and teasing between you. It seemed neither one of you wanted to be the first one to give in to those oh so familiar desires.
"Kate finally won a teddy bear, twenty dollars later," you cough out the last part jokingly and rest your hands on top of Natashas that stayed wrapped securely around you.
Kate groans and rolls her eyes playfully, "You know what? I'm not sharing him with you anymore."
You scoff, feeling Natashas chest rumble as she laughs along with Kate. "Yelena is at the ticket stand, by the way," Natasha says with a small smirk on her lips. Kates eyes widen a bit.
"Oh?" She says with a slow nod. "You know, actually, I think I need some more tickets!" Kate pats her pockets innocently with a shrug and gives you a smile. "Meet you later?" She asks, and you give her nod before she walks away.
Turning in Natashas arms, you finally get a good look at her, and you could drool at the sight of her in her white shirt and blue jeans. Just as always, you can see the pops of color peaking out from the seams, dark lines visible through the thin fabric. Her crooked smile lets a chuckle slip through.
"Alright?" She asks, raising an eyebrow as you continue to gawk at her.
"More than alright," you clear your throat and step back, letting your hand take hers. "Now, are you going to win me a teddy bear, or do I have to do it myself?" You poke her side, and she laughs.
"Step aside, I've got this," Natasha leans down to kiss your forehead, taking out her wallet and handing money to the man in charge of the booth.
"Three shots to knock down the bottles, and it's all yours!" He cheers loudly to gain the attention of others, showing off the teddy bear in question. Natasha takes the ball in her hand, and your eyes are glued to her broad shoulders as she winds up. She throws the ball, missing completely.
"That was just a warm-up," she turns back to look at you, clearing her throat. You stiffle a laugh and purse your lips, nodding.
"Of course, baby! Just a warm-up."
"Two more shots!" The man cries.
Natashas gaze changes from playful to pure concentration, eyes focused intently on the stacked bottles in front of her. She throws again, this time knocking two of the three bottles down. You can't help but let out a giggle this time at the proud expression on her face as she turns to you once more.
"One shot, and it's all yours!" He says loudly, shaking the bear next to her.
"Piece of cake," Natasha says with a laugh. She takes the last ball and winds up again, only to miss completely.
"Ohh, out of luck!" He says with a shrug and moves away. "Who's next?" He yells.
Natasha turns to you with red cheeks, "So maybe I'm not so good at this?" She rubs the back of her neck, and you only shake your head.
"Step aside," you repeat her own words to her, brushing against her as you hand the man money. He goes through his same shpiel and hands you a ball. Only when you go to throw it, the ball hits the bottles perfectly. All three go down instantly.
"Winner!" He yells loudly, handing you the stuffed bear. You smile widley as you take it and return to Natasha, a stunned look on her face.
"But.. how did you.." She shakes her head.
"Here you go, princess," you tease and hand her the bear, giggling as she rolls her eyes but accepts it.
"Alright now, at least let me buy you some popcorn," Natasha laughs along with you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walk.
The two of you spend the next couple of hours riding the carnival rides the fair had to offer, walking around aimlessly, laughing and smiling, teasing each other. You had never felt happier. As you stand there, finally eating your favorite sweet treat, you look at Natasha stood next to you, the sight making you smile. You take out your phone and step back, ignoring the questioning look from her and snap a picture.
You giggle at the image you got of her, the stark contrast of her heavily tattooed and pierced body whilst standing there holding a teddy bear and a box of popcorn was a sight to behold.
"What was that for?" She raises an eyebrow, trying to look at the picture you took.
"Nothing, I just wanted a good memory of this," you smile and put your phone back in your pocket quickly, grabbing another handful of the caramel popcorn. Natasha smiles back. Before she can say anything, a raindrop hits her face.
"What the -" She starts, looking up at the dark night sky. The drops start coming faster, hitting harder as the rain begins to pour. All around you, people begin walking quickly to canopies, attempting to stay dry. "Come on," she says and grabs your hand.
The two of you make your way through the crowds of people, rain pouring down as she leads you out of the fairgrounds. The bright lights and loud music begin to fade as you run behind her, seeing her car just across the lot. Once you reach it, Natasha opens the passenger door for you.
The small act has you swooning as she stands there, waiting with a smile for you to get in. That even in the pouring rain, she was just the type of person to open the door for you. Instead of moving past her, you reach up to take her face in your hands, stepping on your tiptoes to kiss her.
The darkness is thick around the two of you, rain drowning out any nearby sounds. Natashas hands move from the door to wrap around your back, letting you down on your feet as she leans down to deepen the kiss. The cold rain is unforgiving as you melt into each other. A shiver runs through your body as her tongue slips in your mouth, a groan leaving your throat as the two halves spread to engulf your own. At your shiver, she pulls away breathlessly.
"We should get in," she utters against your lips. You nod feverishly.
"Backseat," you say, earning a groan from Natasha. She quickly pulls you away and opens the back door, letting you climb in. She follows behind, and as soon as the door is shut, you are climbing into her lap, lips colliding with hers again. The kiss is messy, tongues sloppily licking at eachothers mouths as you make out.
"Do you have any idea how crazy you drive me?" Natasha moans as your lips travel to her neck, her chest rising and falling rapidly with every nip. At her words, you grind your hips down in her lap, feeling her growing bulge. "F-fuck," she whimpers, bucking her hips up as you grind against her. "I need to be inside you, now," she groans. Her large hands move to your thighs, lifting your dress above your hips.
"Desperate, are we?" You purr, bitting down hard against her neck. She moans and nods, letting one of her hands move up to grip your jaw.
"Y/n," the soft look in her eyes is replaced with dark lust. "I need to fuck you. Now," she reiterates, grip on your jaw tight. Her thumb slips into your mouth, and as you suck on the digit she moans.
Your hands move to the bottom of her shirt, lifting the heavy, wet fabric over her head, along with her bra. Your fingers trace the tattoos that litter her collarbone, nails scratching lightly. You couldn't deny you were just as desperate for her. Natasha lets you up slightly to undo her jeans, pulling them down past her knees along with her underwear. She winces as you return to your previous position in her lap, hard cock rubbing against your still clothed pussy. She could feel you soaking through the thin material.
"God, I've missed this," you mumble as her lips reconnect with yours. You feel her fingers pull your underwear to the side, the tip of her cock rubbing against your aching cunt. Your hips hover over her length before slowly taking in a few inches.
The two of you moan loudly in the small car at the feeling, windows already fogged from your breathy groans.
"My pretty girl.. fuck," Natasha hisses as you lower yourself all the way down, feeling her thick cock stretching you out completely. "You were just made to take me," she moans again, hands resting on your hips. Your hands grip onto her shoulders, nails digging into the side of her neck. Her hands guide your hips to move, and you begin to ride her. Your eyes screw shut as she splits you in two, euphoria filling your veins with every movement of her own hips slapping up to meet your bounces.
"Look at you riding my cock, such a good girl for me," Natasha grunts as she watches your lips part, head thrown back in pleasure. "Taking every inch, fucking yourself on me," she pants out.
The coil in your stomach was building quickly, and as your legs began to grow weak, Natasha held tightly onto your hips, thrusting up into you harshly. Your mouth met hers again, and she swallowed your moans as you kissed her. "Baby I-I'm gonna cum," you moan out, whimpering as she shakes her head.
"Hold it. You cum with me or not at all," Natashas voice is stern, and your head falls forward into her neck. Your chests press together, and you can feel the piercings on her nipples rub against your dress as her arms wrap around your back to hold you in place.
"I wanna feel you soak my cock, god just listen to your pretty cunt make those noises," she moans. You can hear your wetness with every thrust, mixing the the rain hammering onto the roof of the car. The two of you are wet, sticky, and messy. Natashas primal urges to fuck you sending you closer and closer.
"Ohh, Nat, please I need to cum! Fill me up, baby," your moans turn higher pitched and she knows you won't last any longer, and neither will she.
"That's it, pretty girl.. cum for me. That's it, soak my cock, fuck, fuck!" Natashas mouth let's out a string of curses, fucking up into you mercilessly. The coil in your stomach snaps at her words, and you feel your orgasm hit hard. You moan her name loudly, body trembling as you feel her load fill you up, your hot walls swallowing every drop. Natashas hips finally slow to a stop, and you're left limp in her arms as the two of you pant against each others skin.
"So good, so good... my pretty girl..." Natasha whispers against your neck, holding you tightly. You stay like that for a while, head resting against her shoulder and just holding onto each other. The cool piercing on her lip brushes against your skin as she peppers kisses up to your face.
You lift your head to meet her soft green eyes with a smile, feeling her fingers brush your messy, damp hair out of your face. Before Natasha can even think to say it, you open your mouth.
"Hi," you giggle, earning a breathy laugh from the red head.
"Hi," she gives you a toothy grin and kisses your head.
****
The sunlight creeps through the windows, warming your skin. It was late in the morning, when you habitually reached out to grab your phone. Your heavy eyes barely peeking open as you check the screen. For a moment, in your sleepy morning haze, you looked for a 'good morning' text, but saw none.
It was then a pair of inked arms wrap around you from behind, and you smile to yourself, feeling Natashas body wrap around you protectively.
"Good morning," she mumbles tiredly against you, breath fanning the back of your neck. You chuckle and let yourself melt back into her hold, hands holding onto her arms as you drift back to sleep.
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imthenatynat · 24 days
Text
a beautiful canvas
。゚*. 18+, minors DNI . * 。゚・
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pairing: natasha romanoff x reader
summary: you have always loved nat’s tattoos so one day decide to give them a bit more colour…
warning(s): just fluff, mentions of nat having lots of tattoos, very brief mention of sex, r gives nat a massage, non-sexual nudity, soft natasha, minors dni.
authors note: saw one of those tiktoks of people colouring in their partner’s tattoos and just had to write a little something about it with natasha :))
wc: 3.1K words
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Natasha’s tattoos have always been one of your most favourite parts about her appearance. Mostly because a great deal of them were hidden, always tucked away behind jeans and leather jackets. Your upmost favourites had to be the ones littered in places only you ever got to see; the curve of her hips, her upper thigh, between the valley of her breasts. All of those were reserved just for your eyes, like a secret treasure only you had the map to.
Natasha hadn’t had as many tattoos when you’d first met her, barely half a dozen scattered in different places of her body. But in the years you two had been dating, the redhead had collected more and more pieces of artwork to adorn her skin. Some of them she had even let you chose yourself, knowing just how much you loved each piece after you’d mentioned it on one of your first ever dates and never stopped admiring since. Just something about the way she looked scattered with such beautiful artwork was another one of the reasons you had fell so hard in love.
Your utter admiration of her tattoos was something that lead to the idea that popped into your head one afternoon. Due to Natasha’s natural reluctance to do anything as silly as the thought you’d had, the entire operation had had to be kept secret until the perfect time to strike. You’d prepared for about a week before the fateful night had arrived and you could carry out your plan.
Natasha came home late in the evening, her two-day mission having extended just slightly longer than she had hoped. You were cozied up on the couch when you’d heard her slip in through the door, a melody of “detka, i’m home” flooding through the house and to your ears. You’d barely had the time to sit up from your position when Natasha had appeared at the living room doorway. She was wearing a set of comfy clothes, those she always packed for travelling home from missions. Her long red hair was pulled back in a signature messy braid, little wisps dancing around her tired face.
“Hey, baby,” you said warmly as you watched a smile creep on to the widow’s face. She made her way around the furniture in the room, coming to a halt at the couch before throwing herself down on it. Your arms instinctively wrapped around her, holding her close as you kissed the top of her head. Natasha buried her face into the crook of your neck, a string of muffled noises and whispered ‘i missed you’s’ breathed into your skin. Natasha was always like this whenever she got home from missions and you loved it. To the majority of the world she was the fearsome black widow, but within these walls, she was always just the soft, loving woman you had the pleasure of calling your girlfriend.
“I missed you too,” you answered softly as you stroked your fingers senselessly up and down the redhead’s spine. She remained that way in your embrace for a long time, breathing gently into the skin of your neck. Then, she slowly sat up to reach her lips to yours. The kiss was the same vehement act it always was when Natasha had been away for a few days, like she’d forgotten what you’d tasted like and needed to remind every part of herself. You revelled in the touch of her lips against your own, soft but ardent as she held your face with calloused hands, pulling you in ever closer. When you broke away, Natasha’s forehead rested against yours, eyes looking back with such adoration and love you could almost melt. But there was also something else behind that sea of green, something only you had come to notice over the years of being with Natasha. You reached up to brush her cheek as you looked straight through her. “What’s wrong?”
The redhead sighed, shaking her head ever so slightly. She’d learned to accept the fact you could always see right through any barriers she put up, how you were the only one who could always tell how she was truly feeling. “Sore,” she mumbled, her voice laced with the reluctance that came with ever admitting defeat. Around you, she had become comfortable enough to at least admit when she wasn’t perfectly okay, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still difficult.
“Hey,” you replied, reaching a finger under the redhead’s chin to bring her gaze back to yours. The pain was hiding in her eyes, almost invisible behind that veil only you seemed to have the ability to cross. “I love you.” Your words were pointed but calm, enough to remind Natasha how she was always safe to be herself with you.
The redhead picked up on your tone, that sense of home flooding her bones once more as she looked back into your eyes. “I love you too.”
You released a small breath before you stood up to your feet, extending out a hand towards the still sitting assassin. “Come on,” you said, beckoning her with your fingertips. Natasha met you with an inquisitive eye, tracing your face and then your outreached hand. Ultimately, she decided to give in to the ambiguity of your invitation and connected her hand with yours.
Wrapping your fingers around the palm of your girlfriend, you began to pull her gently away from the living room and towards the house’s stairs. You were silent as you pulled her up, the only communication a gentle smile you passed as you reached the top landing. The door of your bedroom was pushed open as you guided Nat inside, finally dropping her hand before it clicked closed behind you.
Your lips came to press a long kiss onto Natasha’s cheek before you began to slowly undress her body. Her hoodie was the first thing to go, black fabric slipping over her head and ruffling her hair. You adjusted it slightly after tossing the jumper aside, moving to then pull off the grey joggers from her legs. When you rose up from the floor, Nat was left standing in her shirt and underwear, looking down at you with that same inquisitive look. You smiled a little at how cute she was with that little crease between her brows before you reached to kiss it away.
Natasha let out a small little groan, just the barest of noises at the back of her throat. “I’m sorry, detka but I think I’m too sore to have sex right now.”
A small breath of laughter escaped your lips as you smiled back at your girlfriend. “Relax, I’m not trying to have sex with you,” you replied, rolling your eyes at Natasha’s quick assumption. “I’m going to give you a massage.”
You watched as the redhead’s face softened, clearly much more appreciative of your offer than what had first come to mind. She watched as you too stripped yourself of your daytime wear, leaving you in a matching ensemble to your girlfriend stood opposite. “You know, you don’t have to,” Natasha started, sighing slightly.
You were interrupting before she could even try to explain further. “I want to. Now lie down.” The redhead looked back, unmoving. You rolled your eyes at her hesitance before reaching for her shoulders. “Natasha. Lie down.” With some help from your touch, the widow eventually let herself fall atop of the mattress of your shared bed.
You made sure she was in the right position, laying on her front with arms by her sides, before you took your own spot straddling her body. Making sure your weight was distributed nicely, you found a spot sitting just at the curve of her ass. For a moment you simply admired the sight in front of you; your girlfriend laying so comfortably in the bed you shared, little baby hairs curling at the nape of her neck where her braid rested, her arms displayed with many of the tattoos you so desperately adored. After a good moment of just looking at the beauty before you, you began on your promise of a massage.
Natasha’s back was tense beneath your hands, muscles taught from days of being away on her mission. She was often like this when she returned, often stressed and her body sore from how much she’d put it through. You’d had conversations before about how it was too dangerous for her to be doing such avenging activities when she didn’t have the godly capabilities or impressive technology of her peers, but you also knew that Natasha loved her job and some innate part of her felt the need to help others. So, you’d both agreed that as long as she promised to always come back home to you in one piece, she could do as much avenging or spy work as she desired.
Slowly, as you worked your fingers into the muscles of the redhead’s back, you could feel Natasha begin to ease up. Soft, appreciative noises emanated from her as you worked the tension from her body, paying close attention each time you found a knot and carefully working it out. Nat murmured gentle gratitudes of your work as you hummed a little tune in response, the intimacy of the moment permitted to exist in the evening light of your bedroom.
When you had felt Natasha finally ease away from the rigidity, her body relaxing into the mattress beneath the traction of your touch, you had switched up your tactics. Instead of massaging into her tired muscles, you began to run your fingertips delicately over her exposed skin. Feather-light touches danced between her arms then to the area of her bare back where you had pushed her shirt upwards. The redhead let out the barest of twitches when they raked the baby hairs at the nape of her neck. You let your fingers ripple across her skin for a long while, beginning to trace the lines of the beloved tattoos etched into her skin.
That was when your idea had cropped back into the forefront of your mind, suddenly reminded of the thing you had been waiting to do for days. With the perfect opportunity placed in front of you, you pressed a chaste kiss to the back of your girlfriend’s neck before sliding yourself off of her body.
Natasha grumbled when she felt your weight shift, then again when she say you rummaging in a drawer across the room. “What are you doing?” she murmured, voice sounding tired and confused.
“Nothing, just lie back down,” you replied. A little gasp of excitement slipped out as you laid eyes on the packet you had hidden in the drawer earlier that week, shrouded away until such a perfect time to take it out. Natasha tried to catch a glimpse of whatever was in your hand as you made your way back across the room. You straddled her once more, making her have to crane her neck to see the colourful packet you placed on the bed beside you.
“Are those markers?”
You smiled a little at both the confused tone of your girlfriend’s voice and the small scowl on her face. “Yep,” you replied easily, adjusting yourself to get comfortable on her back once again. “I’m gonna colour in your tattoos.”
“What?” Natasha replied, craning back even further to look up at your face.
“Relax,” you replied, voice light. You reached to turn her face back towards the bed. “The markers aren’t permanent.” That had been something you had ensured when you had ordered the packet online, alongside the fact they were completely skin safe. You had had everything planned out perfectly for this moment ever since the idea of colouring in Nat’s tattoos had appeared in your mind.
Natasha let out a sigh as her face was pressed back towards the mattress. “Y/N, this silly.”
“Yeah, it is,” you replied quickly, not arguing with the childish nature of your wishes. Nevertheless, you were determined to use Natasha as your personalised human colouring book. “But I really wanna do it so just lay down and be a good canvas.”
You placed another quick kiss to the back of your girlfriend’s neck before reaching to pull a marker from the pack, smiling at the fact that Nat seemed to have no further arguments towards your proposition. She only turned her head to the side as you uncapped the marker and pressed it towards the skin of her bicep. Green ink began to spread between the black lines of drawn leaves upon Natasha’s skin, your hand careful as to not spill over the edges. As you worked, Natasha twitched, her arm moving beneath you. “It tickles,” she murmured.
“Shh, canvases aren’t supposed to talk.”
You watched from the corner of your eye as Nat rolled hers in their sockets, a very exaggerated scoff sounding from her throat. You simply held in your giggle as you reached to hold on to her arm, preventing her from moving it again and ruining your picture.
Once the leaves had been filled in green, you swapped the marker out for a pink as you began to work on the rose petals etched into Natasha’s skin. The redhead made a comment about how she always pictured the flowers being red, to which was what met with a quick, amused ‘shutup’ from you as you continued to colour them your favourite colour.
After her rose tattoo, you moved on to the others dotted around Natasha’s arms. You chose blue for the snake wrapped around her forearm, then yellow and purple for the moon inspired piece above her elbow. Natasha made more comments about your colour choices, or about how you would sometimes miss a spot, all of which were silenced when you started placing methodical kisses to her shoulders and neck.
She held her tongue while you coloured the butterfly on right arm a rainbow cacophony of colours, then again when you bordered the lettering of the words tatted to her other bicep. Eventually, it had seemed the redhead had come to enjoy this activity almost as much as you, basking in the delicate touches you placed on her skin and the slight pleasant tickle that was brought along with the markers.
When you had finished colouring each piece on her arms, you had made Natasha lift up her body so you could pull off her shirt and begin on the large piece she had designed on her back. As you swapped between your markers, picking different colours for each part of the design, Natasha began to talk about her mission. She overlined the details of things that had went wrong as well as telling a small story of how Steve had fallen into the lake they had been fighting beside. You chuckled softly at her story, asking her all the questions and saying all the things you knew would help her slip away from the mindset of her work, leaving her mission in the past and falling into just this moment with you.
By the time that conversation had died down, the entirety of Natasha’s back had been emblazoned with a kaleidoscope of colours. You admired your work for a moment, making sure to let the ink dry before making the move to finish the last part of your job. You lifted up from Natasha, guiding the redhead to flip over on to her back before settling back onto her hips and looking down at her face.
“Now, that’s a prettier view,” Natasha said, suddenly smiling very widely as she looked back up at you.
You smiled too, feeling that blush creep up on to your cheeks from her compliment. It made you want to do nothing more than cuddle up beside her, letting her arms wrap around you, but you also knew you really wanted to finish your work before that could happen. So, you simply placed a kiss on to your girlfriend’s lips and then turned your attention back to your markers.
The spider resting by her hips bones was coloured in an almost total black, baring the small red hourglass you drew on to the back of it. You saw Natasha smiling at it as you worked on the stars that rested on the other side. Then, with confirmation from her, you undid Natasha’s bra to give you access to the tattoo nestled on her sternum. Of course, you took a moment to admire her body for the beauty of what it was, but were much more focused on finishing your design that any other thought that came with Natasha’s bare chest.
The redhead did flinch slightly at the tickle brought by the markers against the delicate parts of her chest, but you simply continued your work, once again humming your little tune as you spread colour across her skin. Leaves became shades of green and flowers turned to purples and blues, all absorbing the ink you carefully drew on to the area.
When you were finally finished, you drew back from where you had been crouched over, sitting up fully on Nat’s hips once more. Your eyes glazed over her body beneath you, her own heavenly beauty now adorned with the brilliance of your handiwork. “Okay,” you said, smiling down widely at your girlfriend. You leaned in to place a quick kiss to her lips before rolling off of her, reaching for her hand. “Come see.”
The redhead let her finger become intertwined with yours as you pulled her up from the bed. The pair of you made your way across the room, coming to a halt in front of the mirror mounted behind the door. Natasha stood by your side as both of you looked at her reflection, eyes dancing over the skin that you had meticulously designed. The previously monochrome picture now was an accumulation of colour, all down to your hard work. You smiled back at the image. Natasha truly did look like a work of art.
“Beautiful,” you breathed, meeting your girlfriend’s eye in the reflection.
She smiled, turning to face you in real time as she reached for your hips, anchoring you closer to her body. “You did such a good job,” she replied, placing a kiss to the top of your forehead. “Thank you, milaya.”
You knew she wasn’t just thanking you for the decoration, but also for the time you’d spent helping her relax after her mission. Natasha’s arms pulled you further in as the two of you embraced in a hug, your head pressed complementary to her chest. For a moment you wondered if the ink on her skin would transfer to you, leaving you with an amalgam of colour blended into to your cheek. But very quickly you also found you didn’t much care. As long as Natasha kept holding you like this, warm in her arms, you would be content of joining her in having inked up skin, even if it did leave you looking a little silly.
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imthenatynat · 24 days
Text
for the loss of my life.
| W.M -> N.R
Undeserving of a Love Like Yours, Chapter 11
Chapter Warnings: One swear word, overthinking.
Summary: Making yourself at home with someone else's heart but holding no communications of the fact you're doing so, have a chance for consequences to happen. What happens when you speak up about it?
Series Summary: When you're stuck in a complete hole of confusion and hurt with the one you thought you loved most, a certain redhead finds her way into your life.
Word Count: 3.3k
Category: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst
A/N: I hope you're all taking care of yourselves <3
Series Playlist
| Started on 07/05/2024, 2:02 PM |
| Finished on 11/05/2024, 10:53 PM |
Masterlist | Series Masterlist | N.R Masterlist
<- Chapter 10 Final Chapter ->
"Run yourself in a circle, bury yourself a deeper hole, but it won't end unless you stop and take control."
Started with a kiss, oh, we must stop meeting like this!
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|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|
It was an early day at Nat's place. You were hanging out in her room, taking a look through physical photos she's taken that had been retrieved from a dusty box, sitting under her bed, along with some cassettes.
Meanwhile, she was going through the photos on her digital camera and clearing some accidental takes. her lips raises up when sees the photo you had taken of her, the day you first came over to her apartment. She didn't ever delete the picture.
"Hey, you have any batteries?" You ask, gently breaking the comforting quietness that had overcome the two of you. She looks up, taking her gaze off the camera screen.
"Yeah, there should be some in the top drawer." She nods towards her chestdrawer, and you get up, going off to open the top one, inside holding a small pack of batteries.
You grab two, then slide them into the battery slot for the cassette player, making sure it was properly inside before closing it and turning back to her.
Her eyes watch you as you picked up a cassette tape, placing it inside to play it. You already had your headphones on your head and connected to the output.
With some faith and a miracle, the player works after you heard some white noise. You hoped it'll last that way.
Nat tilted her head, and peeks to see the wheels of the player spinning, a clear indication it was working. When you turn up the volume a little, she could hear the music coming out from the old headphones she kept.
Thank everything the dust hadn't gotten into the box. Although there was a dead black spider within it just earlier and you had jumped when you saw it. She took care of it though, after also making sure there wasn't anything else, especially things such as...spider eggs.
You nod your head to the music as you sat back down on the bed, your hand going back through the photos scattered in a pile atop each other and every now and then petting Liho, beside you. It was all indeed scenery, and no portraits, selfies, or even people at all.
A specific one that was a bright glow of a sunset with water reflecting its own beauty had caught your attention, your eyes focused on it before your hand reached out.
"This one's pretty," you said, holding it up before leaning closer to Nat and tilting it to show it to her. She looked at it, and her eyebrows raised.
"Oh, I took that one a while after I saw the orca." She pointed out, and you realize how familiar it did look. The grass below, the rocks just ahead. It was the same spot as the pictures and videos she had showed you before. You guessed she wanted a physical memory of it too.
"There should be a picture of the orca here somewhere, but I think the film got a leak..." She murmured with a tinge of sadness as her hand ruffled through the pictures slightly, some with dates on them and some having nothing.
"I love that you waited for the sunset," you said, still staring at the shot she took in your hand. The sun was a bright orange, nearly similar in color as her hair.
"Well, the view was too pretty not to." She looked at you. You were also too adorable for her to not further fall in love with you as she saw you admiring the photos she took. That's what she thought, but it was never said out loud.
Liho, was laying down and purring between the two of you. She was quiet, and unmoving, too comfortable to do anything else but sit with the two people she liked the most.
When Nat's eyes went down to the pictures closer to your crossed legs, she spots the photo that had the orca, although just barely visible through the orange light leak that covered nearly the entire photo.
"Here it is," she said, her hand carefully taking ahold of it to give to you. You gently grabbed it, rotating it when you realize she gave it to you in the opposite way.
You raised your eyebrows, taking in the picture. It took a few seconds, with some squinting, but you soon see the orca jumping from the water, although small. "I think it looks prettier with the light leak."
She hums, taking another look to the picture in your hand. You smiled softly, and her eyes flickered up to your lips for a small moment before she turns back to her camera.
You notice the way she goes back to her camera, almost as if she was distracting herself, but you hadn't seen the flicker in her eyes. Tilting your head, you check the cassette player for a bit before looking up at her.
"You wanna listen?" You asked with a soft gaze, taking off the headphones on your head and holding it out to her.
She raised an eyebrow, but took it from you, putting it on. "Sure." the music was already flowing through her ears. 'American Pie'. She remembered this album. It was what she had listened to whenever she was alone, in the car peacefully. But it was different with the headphones-- capturing more details she hadn't noticed. Or, maybe, she just hasn't listened to it in a while and had forgotten.
You smiled as you see her involuntarily moving her head to the song, her attention going to inspect the cassette player, either watching the wheels turning or putting the volume up.
Soon after, you finish looking at every photo and get out of bed, deciding to walk towards the bathroom, but was too close to the bed, causing you to accidentally hit your hand against the wooden bedframe, it making a loud sound echo through the room.
"Ow, fuck!" You winced and cursed, grimacing at the pain. Both Nat and Liho looks at you, shocked. You were focused on your stinging hand though, shaking the pain away. It took everything in you to not crumple up like a shrimp to the floor.
"Are you okay?" she asks quickly, her eyes filling with concern. But you nod repetitively, unwilling to admit it still hurt. Your other hand was firmly gripping your wrist, as if it would help.
"I'm fine. I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine!" you say, most probably trying to convince yourself, too. She lets out a small laugh when she sees you wave her off and struggle as you moved to take a step forward.
"Sure you are. Come here." She says quietly, but you still heard her. You purse your lips and your eyes travel to her, but you follow nonetheless, two pair of eyes watching you.
"Which hand?" She asked gently, looking at your hands. You hesitate for a moment, but stepped closer, holding it out.
"Right." She grabs your hand and rubs her thumb on the skin slightly to where you held it, knowing thats where the pain is. She blows a little, as if you would magically take pain away from a child.
"There. Better." She says, and a red tint goes over your face. The redhead cheekily smiles. Just when she was about to pull her hand away from yours, the cat sitting in her lap had been looking at you two the whole time, and it decides to lean up, going up to your hand.
Both you and Nat watch curiously as to what it was doing. Liho's yellow eyes were focused before a paw gently lands on your wrist, her face going closer to lick on your skin, making the pain slowly go away even more. You chuckled, both at getting your skin tickled and the fact the cat tried to help ease the pain.
Then you see Nat's eyes travel to her cassette player, concern growing in her face as she heard some warbly music. She takes off the headphones, feeling uneasy at the sound.
"I think it's breaking." She said, looking at the headphones in her hands that you now heard the messed up music from. Pulling your hand away from the cat's face, your eyebrows furrowed as your attention moved to her.
"Why, what happened?" You check on the cassette player, seeing that it was slowing down or speeding up, changing its pace however much it wants.
Nat stops the player with a click and hands both items back to you. The feel of her skin brushing with yours glided over for a mere second, but you try to focus on the player in your hand. Changing its batteries after taking the tape out, rewinding or fast forwarding a bit. But nothing other than a broken noise.
You sighed softly, knowing you'll need to open it up to check its insides. "It probably needs a new belt..." You murmured, turning around while Nat blinked at you and tilted her head, probably unfamiliar with the workings of a portable player.
"It's what makes the wheels spin. I'll search for one," you explained, then left the player on the chestdrawer to deal with later before storing the tape and sitting down on the bed once more, helping her sort the pictures. Nat nods, leaning closer to show you some things on her digital camera.
|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|
It was one of the many times once again, you were sitting in Natasha's apartment, and it was the beginning of something you were starting to get lost in.
The city bustles. Sounds of car tires, motorcycles revving, a nearby cat somewhere in an alleyway, and most of all, the birds chirping in the skies.
The wind was gentle as it glided against your skin, the chair you were sat in being a wooden one. You should get up from it. It was starting to make your body sore. But you couldn't help but stay, the balcony being peaceful.
Every thought in your head floated on by, with some sticking, being nothing but damaging. You still haven't gotten a belt yet for the cassette player. Kate's been just here and there, keeping a natural presence in your life. You haven't seen Wanda at all since. But your mind questioned if she was still waiting on you, lost too, or had moved on after your rejection.
A sigh leaves your mouth. To put a pause on all of it for however long you'd want would make you be able to relieve your body of any exhaustion it held. But would it really? Perhaps for a moment. Moving forward would have you release the things from before and have the opportunities to experience things in a better way.
And what about Nat...? You've been growing close, closer to going over the line you weren't sure you were ready to cross. And it seems like she wasn't either. The many touches you've shared, the months and months that held the many times you've visited her. And the kiss that you couldn't shake off...were you actually falling in love with her?
You shook your head, not wanting to even think about it. But you should. The longer you leave it be the more it could lead to torment and perhaps worser consequences. Problems don't fix themselves...most of the time.
Suddenly, you feel arms go around your waist, and you take a breath in, gasping softly in surprise, then turning your head to look behind you. The familiar touch was recognized soon enough, but seeing the redhead you cherished dearly makes you relax and lean back into her.
"I'm home." She said, resting her head on your shoulder as she gazed at you from behind, looking adorable. How can you not absolutely fall for this woman? You smiled softly, feeling your heart grow a little lighter, now that you weren't alone.
"Hi," you whispered, your hand gliding to your front to put over hers that was still on your waist. You hesitated on your next words, but the connection you felt with her urged you to. "I missed you."
Her eyes went to yours, but she didn't question it, replying back quietly, "I've missed you, too, любов." There it was again. You weren't imagining things when you had gotten drunk just a few days ago.
Wanda always said things in Russian, such as малыш (baby), but you've never heard of that word. Or maybe it wasn't Russian at all, and you were mixing up languages, but the accent made it lean towards being so.
You were going to ask her what it meant, but she spoke first. "You been okay?" She asks, her hands slipping off your waist as she pulls herself away from you and stood beside your standing figure. You watched her, seeing her gaze off to the view you've been staring off at the past hour.
"Yeah...I..." The words utter from your mouth quietly, then you licked your dry lips, diverting your own gaze. Should you tell her about the encounter you had a few days ago?
There was no harm in it, but your fingers fiddle with your pocket, the jean fabric rough against your skin before you slid your hand in the pockets. A sound of an ambulance siren sounded out distantly from the city, and you wait until it fades further away before talking.
"I saw Wanda a few days ago," You said, within a breath that could be counted as a sigh. At the mention of your ex's name, her eyes flash with surprise for a moment as she looks back to you, but she regains her composure fast enough.
Nat's head goes through her own thoughts, wondering if you meant intentionally or accidentally. Surely, accidentally. Or she hoped so. Why was she hoping so? She didn't know. Maybe simply because she was worried you'd fall into a dark hole, and not because her own heart was aiming for you...surely.
"Anything happen?" She asks, her eyebrows furrowing in concern. The redhead also leaned on the balcony rails beside you, feeling the gentle wind. The sun was falling down, so the skies were colored with gentle hues of orange and purple.
You didn't say anything back for just a few seconds, staying quiet as you were lost in decision, your eyes focused on a space elsewhere that wasn't her own eyes. Her face soften when she notices, and her voice was somehow gentler. "...That you're comfortable of sharing?"
Your lips raise up in the smallest smile for a moment, the swell in your heart obvious due to her thought to care in such a way. But the smile slowly fades as you remembered the memory.
"She wanted to get back together..." You start. Already, Nat raised a brow, a frown on her face. The metal rails of the balcony was cold on your skin when you stepped forward to lean against it.
Your shoulders were tense. When you realized they were, you let them relax and fall down just slightly with a quiet breath. "I didn't want to though." You whispered.
"I just can't get it out of my head." She didn't really know what to say to anything of it, afraid to touch on the sensitive subject. For you, it did some small damage, your head possibly going overboard with its roaming thoughts.
You can tell she had hesitancy to respond, but you didn't mind. Who could ever come up with a reply to that anyway? But Nat was kind, that was for sure. She just has some walls you just can't yet break through. Yet, how caring she's been, and gentle...you almost couldn't help but feel you're not half as decent as her.
You inhaled. "...What if she was just too good for me?" The words were under your breath, your gaze distant as you watch the city lights turning on with the growing darkness of the skies. The shops had a glow to them, almost alluringly.
"What if I don't deserve any of it?" Your hands gently gripped the metal it was against, but it slowly loosened when you feel the cold going too much against your skin. Nat's breath gets caught in her throat at your sentence, and she kept her eyes on you.
"What do you mean?" She asked, her voice gentle as her concern grew. She knew exactly what you meant, but she hoped she just imagined it. You turned to look at her, worry deep in your eyes that had her heart clenching.
"This. You...anything good in my life." Your volume lowered to a slight murmur, your hands going to run down your face when you rested your elbows further on the rails.
"I mean-- I've...done some good things but so...many horrible things." You said slowly, and she analyzed your movements and words. She knows it herself. She's accused herself of such a thing too, having gone through the same thing your mind is going through.
"Y/N." When she says your name with a serious tone, everything stops, as if the world freezes along with your mind, and only she was the living thing beside you. She had put one of her hands on your shoulder nearest to her, making you look at her again.
"You deserve everything. Please, don't think any less." She shook her head lightly, honesty in her eyes. Your heart stutters at her words as you swallowed a lump in your throat.
"She didn't..." she trails off, thinking her words carefully. She was going to say Wanda didn't deserve such a love like yours, but it simply sounded...wrong.
"You deserve a love that makes you happy and...makes your world feel like sunshine or just...takes the weight off your shoulders after a long day." The redhead explained slowly, making sure you were hearing her. Really, she was speaking a description of you. Even if she wasn't trying.
She had gotten home, saw you in her apartment, and any heaviness in her body had lightened, even if just slightly, your presence did a great deal.
Nat took a moment, gathering her words. "And if you're not enough for her, then she's not enough for you," she gently added, but anxiety was creeping in her heart.
You processed her words, your heart surprisingly steady, but that may be the cause of her very own calm presence beside you. At least, on the outside. She was right. The situation of the brunette was basically done and over with. You had to focus on yourself. But now stood the question right next to you.
"...And what are we?" You asked slowly and quietly, looking up at her. Your eyes met her green ones, the ones that look like a forest, but inviting, soft, as if they'd keep you safe.
She searches your pupils, taking a deep breath as her eyebrows furrowed, trying to think it over. Her mouth opened to speak, but she only ended up taking another breath in.
"I don't know." She whispers. Sounds of birds were heard flying over in the distance. She was right there. She was so close. But she couldn't say it. Not yet, not just yet. The light and hope in your eyes dimmed, a breath slowly and quietly exhaling out your lips.
"Well, it's getting late," you said. You weren't really disappointed, more so just...sad. You pushed yourself back from the rails. She saw the words that was coming next, but she almost didn't want to hear it.
"I should...probably get back to my place." You whispered under your breath, turning around to face the entrance of the balcony, where you could see her familiar furnished apartment. She nods.
Steps were taken, shots in the dark had gone, the only thing left was to sit and think. But you were getting bored of doing such a thing. Just as you stepped a single foot inside again, she turns her body calmly.
"Text me," she said suddenly, her eyes hesitantly traveling to yours. You stopped in your tracks and looked at her from over your shoulder, a somber look in your eyes she could just barely make out.
"...When you get back home," she continued, her voice quiet, but it held care. Your shoulders went down. Your home was her, where her heart was. There was something else, but you couldn't quite reach to whatever it was.
"I will." The words left your mouth softly, but it seems no tears had pricked your eyes at all. Maybe it was because you couldn't seem to form any at all anymore, or was it the fact she even cared to know you arrived home safely?
Your steps were quiet as you went out the apartment, Liho meowing softly before you closed the door. You don't want her like a best friend. Or just someone you could love without anything connected. You wanted more.
And you wondered if she thought the same.
end of chapter 11. <3
Series Masterlist <- Chapter 10 Final Chapter ->
to mend a broken heart is to restart.
"I don't truly deserve a love like yours." W.M
"She doesn't deserve a love like yours." N.R
"What if I...don't deserve anyone's love?" R.
------------------------
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imthenatynat · 24 days
Text
I love you.
| W.M -> N.R
Undeserving of a Love Like Yours, Chapter 12
Chapter Warnings: None, I don't think
Summary: The day you chose a path for yourself was the day she also made her very own choice, and the weight of the world was lifted without any more time wasted.
Series Summary: When you're stuck in a complete hole of confusion and hurt with the one you thought you loved most, a certain redhead finds her way into your life.
Word Count: 3.6k
Category: Hurt/Comfort(?), Fluff, Fluff, and FLUFF!! oh, did I say...? Fluff.
A/N: idk if the beginning is lame? but I really hope it isn't - In compensation of all the angst and finally, to put an end to this series, I give you, the last chapter. It's been an incredibly fun adventure :] this might be the most tender chapter (or fic) I've written yet. I hope all of you enjoyed it as much as I have and I'm really really happy at the amount of support I see some of you give me. ily ily all<3 I'm back in my groove HEHEH!!!
P.S: this is better with reputation on or the series playlist. ;] (specifically starting at fortnight or anywhere at the bottom)
Series Playlist
| Started on 31/03/2024, 8:16 AM |
| Finished on 13/05/2024, 4:15 PM |
Masterlist | Series Masterlist | N.R Masterlist
<- Chapter 11
"I'll end the torture I put on myself...and the one you put on yourself, because no one ever deserves such a thing but love."
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(I will never not love that picture of her<3)
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The rain earlier sheened the streets with gleams of reflections. The lampposts glowed in a warm orange. It was cold, but in the most cozy way. At least, if you were under a blanket. Right now, your body was shivering and your hands might soon go numb if you stayed outside any longer.
Windows of shops were bright with light, bars were dim with crowds of people, and a creak of a door from an old aged store thats always been there, ever since you first visited Kate.
There was a group of people, laughing heartily from a joke as you walked by. They seemed kind. On the other side of the street was two people, a couple perhaps, smiling gently as they shared a small cake, enjoying theirselves. Another, was walking hand in hand.
You sighed, keeping your hands in the pockets of your jacket in the meanwhile. At least it was some type of warmth. It may not be another hand, but your jacket was your friend.
The apartment ridded your bodily shivers, but your fingers were definitely entirely numb and redder than usual as you closed the door. Meanwhile, golden fur brushed against your legs and just barely appeared in your vision below you.
Leaning down, you smiled softly, scratching Lucky behind his ears before kicking your shoes off and moving to sit on the couch. Or rather, slightly fall atop it. You closed your face with both your hands. All this silence, pining and desperately waiting was driving you crazy.
Lucky had laid down next to you, looking at you adorably with his one eye. Your body was lazily laid down, but you shifted to hug his cuddly figure, him instantly snuggling into the embrace.
You stayed like that for a while, and he didn't move at all until you pulled away, sliding your phone out from your pockets. The time showed on the front screen, with a wallpaper of you and Nat at the aquarium.
The urge you had to change it to something else. But you couldn't-- it was too precious. You sat up, then moved to stand, finding your contacts app.
Yes, you might also throw up soon if you stared at your contacts any more than you already have the past few months, but this was something that had to be done.
The room was quiet as you paced the floor, your feet padding against the wood quietly. A notification came in that had you flickering your eyes to your phone again, but it was just an indication of Kate adding to her Instagram story.
Checking, it was just a video of her showing off her archery skills and having fun with her friends from class. Well, while she was out having fun, you were dying with a decision you had to make.
...You shouldn't think like that. In fact, you were happy she was much happier than how you felt. Ah, who are you kidding? You shouldn't even think about it at all. Your screen went back to your list of contact names.
The one at the bottom you've been dreading to even lay your eyes upon appears into view. You didn't text or call her. Instead, you went into the detail view.
A button with red text held itself in place. Red was danger. Sure. It meant it was a risk and it needed you to go through a confirmation step first. But for you it was the opposite.
Block this contact?
Are you sure?
Finally after a moment of hesitation, you tap on 'Yes', and the name disappears. You had stopped your pacing long ago and now you stood in the middle of the living room, contemplating the option you chose. Just like that.
You had made your decision. It was time to let go a while ago. But something held you back. At least until the redhead came along, gently making herself at home within your heart.
Lucky stared at you as your shoulders went down, and you couldn't tell if it was in despair or relief. Maybe both. Asking her the question that shouldn't have been asked.
You shouldn't have done such a thing. You had messed up. A whole lot. Now you had nothing but yourself. Why did you even dare to?-- because you wouldn't want to get yourself stuck in something you feared would take yet another year's time to heal from.
Realisations after realisations were overcoming your head like a crow cawing at you to snap back into reality. Maybe a walk by yourself without interruptions did the trick after all.
You shook your head, going back to the couch, taking a seat that you definitely needed with everything happening. She's all thats been filling up your memories lately. So much, to the point that her hand prints were all over your soul.
You should call her up, but what if she hates you now? Considering the disappointment you've gotten before on a phone call, you had doubt poisoning all over your veins.
A sigh left your mouth for the hundreth time and you put your phone on the couch, setting it aside. You needed time, and she probably did too. Plus, if you continued any more, having just gotten over a single step of blocking a contact, you might as well faint if you even look at your messages with Nat.
Lucky rested his head on your leg, looking up at you knowingly as he felt your tiredness. Your hand settles on his fur, going through it gently.
|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|
Nat was staring at her phone as she walked outside, her teeth sunk into her lower lip. She's been pacing in front of her apartment, having just finished drinking some hot coffee at a nearby shop. She thought it would calm her, especially with the rain earlier and the cold night air.
But, it only made her energized, her mind going more aware. As coffee is supposed to do. Really, she should have just gotten tea or a hot chocolate and maybe she would have been fine.
She's been looking at your text messages, ones thats been sent days ago now. Neither of you had talked in so long. Or at least to her, it felt like centuries, ages. She hoped desperately to magically see a text appear from you of saying something, or perhaps that you'll appear at her apartment.
But there was nothing. It was a fault of two sides, neither was really in the wrong, but if neither said anything, it'll simply slowly die.
She felt your distance, and she knew your mind was possibly getting just as loud as hers was. She had to do something, and fast, or the negative possibilities of whatever could happen would become reality.
Her legs started walking continuously forward rather than pacing, deciding to go towards the apartment you were at. She stored her phone in her pocket, determined to get to you rather than let it sit any longer.
She could never possibly hate you. She wouldn't even if she could. The moon and stars had disappeared, the clouds having covered it up. She didn't need their company, anyway. But the rain did come along to be her company.
Great. It was heavy, and people outside retreated to nearby shops and restaurant. She didn't follow them. Thank god for her jacket, but it was still all the more freezing cold.
Her walking slowly speeds up. Then, the splashing of boots running across the sidewalk sounded out through the streets.
Red car lights were in the reflections of the road, blurred from the rain water. A horn sounded out somewhere, probably for a stubborn person looking at their phone as they sat at a stop light. But she couldn't bother to see what it was at all.
The redhead, getting hit by the rain from every angle as she pants, almost out of breath from all the steps she's taken. If the sole of her feet wasn't firm on the concrete, she probably would have slipped.
But, she gets closer with obstacles and needing to find her way through people before she soon arrives. She takes a couple deep breaths after breathing through gasps, her lungs absolutely getting a work-out from the running.
Nat swallows down the burn in her throat, slowly recollecting herself and standing up straighter. When she looks up at the windows of the apartment, the lights are on.
It means you're here.
You're home.
Nat walks close to the door, a little calmer now and her hand goes up hesitantly.
She knocks on the door, but an answer awaits for far too long. Too many seconds.
She looks at the doorbell button.
She presses it.
A ringing that goes through the house can be faintly heard, before some gentle footsteps grow louder, nearing towards the front door.
It opens, and she sees you.
You were blown away by the sight in front of you. Almost quite literally from how windy it was outside, too. Nat, drenched in the rain, and out of breath as if she ran all the way here, because she did. You were definitely going to faint now from the sudden appearance.
Yet, at the realization of the sight in front of you, the two of you having just stared at each other, your face instantly fills with worry and concern. "Gosh, Nat, what are you--"
"I love you!" she blurted out, cutting you off in your sentence. Her voice was determined as she stared at you in such a vulnerable way, her eyes wandering your face to see your emotions.
You stood there, as she kept getting drenched from the rain. She thought she lost it all because you had shock visible in your eyes. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe she shouldn't have-- But your gaze softened, and you stepped back slightly to let her in.
She steps in, a confused and curious expression on her face at your silence, but she lets you close the door before watching you turn around.
You went closer, your hands going to cup her cheeks as you leaned in until your lips softly touched. She had met you halfway, her own hands instinctively landing on your hips. Finally.
You could feel the cold rain on her lips before you pulled away slowly, but resting your forehead against hers, her breath warm against your skin.
"I love you, too," you whispered, but from how close you were to her, you didn't need to be any louder. Her heart had skipped a beat, and her lips raised up, absolutely in joy of your reply.
"We've switched roles...except you got the worse part," you let out a chuckle, tugging on the soaked jacket she was wearing that did nothing to protect her from the cold, until your eyes landed on her soft forest green eyes.
She gave you a soft smile, but her body shivered. Her boots were practically filled up with water, and the water dripped to the floor, but you didn't mind.
"Let's get you dried up," you said, going off to your bedroom to grab some towels for her. "Um--" She stood there for a moment, wondering if she should follow you or not.
"You can use my bathroom, come on." You urged her as you draped a towel over heer shoulders and went behind her to gently push her forward.
Her cheeks blush a pink tint, but she walks forward, going into your bedroom. As you were grabbing her some clothes, she took off her jacket, and pulled out her phone.
"Oh--" she pulled out the cassette player she brought from her apartment, pulling it out from her bag and placing it on your bed gently. Thankfully, it was dry and didn't get hit by the rain.
"I...fixed this up. It wasn't the belt. I mean, I replaced it anyway, but some parts had dirt covering them," she said, looking up to you as you walked back to her with a shirt and sweatpants in hand. You raised your eyebrows, intrigued at how she did it herself when you forgot.
It looked like it was brand new, shining brightly with the dim light with you inspecting it. You then went to grab a cassette tape from your shelves and your headphones to plug in, then you test it.
She had unfolded the t-shirt you got in the meanwhile, keeping herself occupied instead of just watching you. She held it up to her frame, seeing that it was just about the same size as hers.
You smiled softly, listening to the music and looking at her. "This sounds...amazing. You did good work in this." At that, her face lit up, and her smile reflected yours.
"Thank you," she said gently, putting the t-shirt back on the bed to wear later, her hands settling on the towel on her shoulder that kept her warm, even if its just a little.
"Now go, take a warm shower before you freeze to death or something." You gestured to the bathroom door, and she quietly giggled as she turned around, going off to shower.
Your gaze was adoring as you watched her go, then you went back to looking at the cassette player, shaking your head at the incredible handiwork she had.
Then, noticing the curtains of the apartment were still open while outside it was nighttime, you decide to go forward and close them, putting the cassette player down with your headphones. Of course, making sure you paused it rather than letting the music playing on its own.
Once done with the bedroom curtains, you gently shut the door on your way out to the living room, letting Nat have her privacy as you close the rest of the curtains.
One view of the windows though, had caught your attention. It was the larger window Kate had in her apartment, so it showed a perfect view of the sky and the city.
The night was starry now, the rain having settled down and the clouds dissipating. As you stood there admiring the moon and trying to figure out which white dot was a star and which one was a planet, Nat had come out the bedroom, wearing the clothes you gave her.
She stands beside you, gazing up and following the direction of your eyes. Nearly all the planets were shining in the sky, surprisingly enough.
Her hand gently intertwined with yours and her eyes fall back to you, a soft smile gracing her lips. Feeling the warmth of her hand had you turning to look at her, heat rising to your cheeks.
"Ты галактика (Ty galaktika)," she whispered, her free hand going up to gently cup your cheek, her love genuine in her eyes. You smiled softly, your heart jumping in joy.
"Does that mean galaxy?" You guessed gently and curiously, finally getting the chance to ask of one of her sentences you couldn't recognize.
She nodded gently, and then realized you still didn't know the full meaning. "It means you're the galaxy." She whispered, making your eyes widen and your lips part in surprise at the deep meaning, having thought it only meant one word.
You breathed out a chuckle before leaning in to gently capture her lips in a tender kiss, as if it was on instinct, a habit you had already developed naturally, when you haven't kissed each other ever since the first, or even seen each other in days.
But oh, you were depths upon depths in love with her. She returned the kiss, pouring her heart and soul into it, and your bodies fit each other like puzzle pieces.
Considering you were slowly moving towards your bedroom, you reached to the living room lamp when you were close enough, turning it off, knowing you wouldn't be going back into the room and Kate wasn't going to be home until tomorrow. Something about staying at her mom's? You didn't know, but you couldn't be bothered when your fingers entangled in red hair.
When the darkness grew, so did your passion. After a while though, you parted, pausing for a moment with your forehead rested against hers. You breathed in through the space between the two of you, your breaths colliding on skin and mixing.
"Does this make us..." You start in a whisper, but trail off, hesitant to say the word. The corners of her lips tug up in the meanwhile. It was time, and she was ready to jump into it with you.
"Lovers?" She suggests slowly, feeling your hand on her chest that rose and fell with her shallow breathing. You nod to her question, confirming that was what you wanted to say.
"Yes." She breathed out before her lips leaned in and continued to meet yours softly, her hand traveling from your waist up to your back. For the moment, the world only held the two of you.
|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|
You now laid against Nat comfortably on the bed, sitting in the dim lighting as the crickets quietly chirped in the background. You nuzzled into her neck for a moment as you wrapped your arms around her shoulders.
She gently rubbed her hand up and down your back, resting her cheek gently against the side of your head. You then turn your face out from the crook of her neck, looking up at the redhead.
Natasha smiled softly, her eyes meeting yours as she gazed into your loving eyes. She couldn't help but feel a sense of peace and happiness wash over her with someone, for the first time.
You shifted yourself by firmly gripping her shoulders and pushed yourself up, your legs on the sides of her hips as your hands went to cup both her cheeks.
"You're so pretty." You whisper softly, your thumb gently rubbing her soft skin as she stared at you, her smile growing wider.
"And you're..." She wanted to return the compliment, but paused, unable to find one that was completely perfect for you, because you were simply too gorgeous.
"ты красивая (ty krasivaya)," she then said, and you raise your eyebrows, but your heart was still beating with love for her, knowing it definitely meant something that
"...What does that mean?" You asked, tilting your head in curiosity. She giggled softly, noticing that you looked like Liho whenever she got curious.
"It means you're beautiful, моя любовь (moya lyubov)." She leaned in closer, keeping her eyes on yours. You loved how smoothly it comes from her lips.
"And that?" you ask. Even though you could guess, you wanted to make sure, and to hear her translate it into English for you only made you fall deeper for her.
She blushes slightly, but replies nonetheless. "My love," she whispers, shaking her head. She nuzzles her nose against yours when she leaned in closer, making you giggle softly.
"I love you," you said under your breath, feeling her hair gently tickle your fingers as you still had your hand cupped on her cheeks.
"I love you, too," she replies, going in for yet another kiss. You moved your hands down, wrapping around her neck once more.
Your heart was soft and your shoulders held little to no weight at all on them as you lay in this moment with her. It was as if nothing could lay a finger on either of you. You then pull back slightly, staring into her eyes.
"You know, your eyes are so green," you whispered softly, even though you've stared into them a thousand times. She blushes, but smiles.
"I can listen to your compliments all night if thats what you want," she commented, her voice raspy yet gentle. Her hand had gone under your shirt gently to trace gentle patterns on the skin of your back.
"I would very much love that," you said through another giggle, leaning ever so closer to her. You placed your hand on her chest, her heartbeat thumping against your palm as you settle beside her.
Nat pulls the covers up gently up the two of you, making sure you were warm and comfortable. Every touch of her hands held care and gentleness, making your heart swell.
She trails her hand off to your cheek, gently placing it on there. Your eyes flicker down to it, and you lean into her touch, smiling. She rubs her thumb in a slow back and forth motion.
Your eyelids slowly fell to a close, the gentle motion soothing you to sleep. The broken pieces of your shattered heart had been picked up, and she was careful enough to put it all back together.
end of chapter 12, and the end of this series. <3
Series Masterlist <- Chapter 11
In decision you'll hone, but you too shall run from the option you were given. Then find acceptance and it will be forsaken.
"All the things I didn't do for the sake of my mind." - R.
"All the things I shouldn't have done, but did anyway." - N.R
"...Everything I should have done." - W.M
---------------------
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