munariplans - Tumblr blog

munariplans · 3 months

Text

welcome home, red | natasha romanoff

synopsis: natasha knew going on a mission where you were deliberately left out was a bad idea. going on a mission tracking down your ex-girlfriend was even worse; for natasha finally learns how jealous she can get.

natasha romanoff x reader | felicia hardy x reader

word count: 6.7k words

a/n: i see your requests for jealous!natasha with spidey!reader, and i got you :) hope you enjoy!

masterlist

BREAKING NEWS: CURIOSITY KILLS THE CAT? you know what they say, strike when the iron is hot! well, the black cat, infamous for her string of break-ins and robberies, may have struck the iron and burned herself. stealing a prized necklace from the wife of new york’s biggest crime boss, the black cat has certainly outdone herself this time, because silvio manfredi is out for her head, and everyone else’s too! read more on page 6 of this exclusive piece.

perplexed expressions, furrowed eyebrows, sighs of frustration. everyone was on edge, at the threat of the manfredi family wanting to blow up entire parts of new york in order to find the black cat. villains were so dramatic, natasha thought. in no universe would she have ever wanted to threaten to kill entire cities for the love of her life, if one even existed.

but then her phone chimed in with a notification from you, sending a photo of her favourite animal that you spotted on your mission, and she knew she would be retracting her words. even in life-threatening, death-defying missions that you were on, you never forgot to see her everywhere you went. stupid feelings, and stupid crushes, natasha shut her eyes, fighting the urge to giggle at a text from the person she was head over heels for.

“natasha?”

she looked up from her phone, to realise she was the only one still in a half-positive mood. everyone else was biting their lips in worry. she regained her composure, and answered fury, “yeah?”

“you heard me? we’re not leaking this information to her. she won’t be a part of this mission at all.”

the look of confusion on her face gave her away. clint, maria, and fury answered her at the same time.

“your little crush.”

“your wife that you claim isn’t.”

“the person you’re smiling at your phone like an idiot at.”

she glared at clint for the last remark.

“...is there a reason why?” the mission had seemed almost perfectly suited to your skillset.

fury merely shrugged. “no reason. it should just be you three that are privy to this information, that’s all. find the black cat, find the necklace, use it to rope manfredi in, and one less crime boss off the streets.”

even then, she had a nagging feeling that he had not been telling the truth.

–

you ended your latest mission with a bang; quite literally. being flung about fifty metres into the air from a bomb explosion in the middle of the ocean, you would hardly call the mission a failure. no civilians were injured, you had killed the maker of the bomb along with it, and you were not dead, at least.

washing up on shore unconscious and with water in your lungs? a concussion that would have sent any regular person into a permanent coma? being found by villagers and rushed to the medical wing of the avengers tower within a span of a few hours? almost pronounced dead on arrival? sure, you were all of those, but not dead.

honestly, you would have given very little regard for your own life being lost in that mission if not for one person. the one person who stayed with you until the very last minute for her own mission.

“i need to stop welcoming you back in a hospital bed, you know,” natasha grumbled into your neck, hugging you bone-crushingly when you awoke and smiled at her.

she looked mad, but you knew she was just thankful you were home. you wrapped your arms around her waist and brought her to lie down on top of you. she was reluctant to crush your already broken ribs, but you were insistent. “i missed you too. and if i hadn’t been blown up, i had planned to bring back a souvenir from the airport for you.”

“you coming back is enough for me,” she mumbled. you knew she was never this vulnerable with anyone else. the words of because i love you were begging to roll off her tongue, but natasha knew she wasn’t strong enough for that. yet.

you let her ignore the first call for her to assemble at the loading zone, then the second, by the third, your hand had tapped her waist and she had groaned into you once more. “i don’t want to go.”

“what’s this mission about, anyway? nobody’s told me about it since i got here.”

natasha considered her choice of words for a moment, considering whether she should, when fury’s own warnings came back to her. she was never one to break promises. “just some…thing. about retrieving something and using it to lure a criminal.”

you chuckled. “seems like more of a police case than an avenger’s one. or one for a friendly neighbourhood spider.”

“well, the friendly neighbourhood spider looks like a mummy right now, so i don’t think so,” she had reluctantly got up, gathering her things, “i’ll see you in a few days?”

you let her hug you goodbye. “by then, i’ll be fit enough to welcome you home. properly.”

–

natasha once again found it hard to understand why fury hadn’t just waited for you to get slightly better, and go for this mission yourself, because the black cat’s tricks and games were definitely something you could have handled better than anyone he had assigned on the current team. she struggled to even catch up with the woman, and clint’s arrows often couldn’t squeeze deep enough into the slips and cracks she was slipping through. maria couldn’t even get a shot or trap clear to get to her. it would all have been solved so quickly with your webs zipping and getting to her; not to mention your ability to soar through the skies like she could.

this was in addition to the fact that she was adamantly denying having the necklace with her.

with another hit to the face, she was shouting to natasha, “i don’t have what you’re looking for!”

natasha swallowed the blood gathering in her mouth. the woman could throw a punch. “then why are you running?” black cat cornered her this time, slamming her against the wall as her breath mixed with natasha’s. immediately, it was too close, far too close. the grin that the enemy was sporting for her was glinting with mischief, and a trace of attraction. “...if someone as pretty as you were chasing me, with those fiery eyes and red hair of yours, who wouldn’t?”

she was gone before natasha could catch her next breath, handcuffing the black widow to the pipe next to her. she had come so close. natasha knew the black cat was at her wit’s end as well; there was only so far she could run from the avengers.

–

however, one thing the woman had failed to consider, was how suspicious you found the entire operation being. rarely had natasha refused to tell you about the missions she was going on, and rarely did fury put so much emphasis in hiding it from you either.

you weren’t in favour of stalking them, per se, but what were you supposed to do? the hospital wing was boring, and you were (almost) ready to go back to full, operational missions. the broken rib was only hurting a little bit, by that point.

you watched maria through the tracker in her suit, flipping through yet another string of messages natasha had left unanswered. she never failed to reply to you, at least not beyond a day or two.

sighing, you put your mask back on, and dived down the building to begin your chase. the team wasn’t far away.

–

“we got her. hill should be able to lure her into the construction site.” clint’s comms crackled in natasha’s ear, and she set herself into position. finally, one of the traps maria had set worked. minimal casualties, a faraway location. the team should be able to interrogate her there.

natasha finally caught up. the black cat, panting and looking slightly less composed, had nowhere to run. she knew clint was on the roof, and maria was nearby. there was only the waters behind her to escape to.

she aimed her gun, then, “let’s make this a lot easier for all of us. you hand us the necklace, you’re looking at a shorter jail term. months, maybe.”

the black cat only returned with another smart retort, before trying to take aim at maria above. she cursed and flinched when the agent successfully dodged. natasha, i am letting the arrow fly if she tries to get any closer to you, clint declared in her comms. natasha agreed.

the woman took one step closer, natasha clicked her gun.

“you have to let me go,” she explained, “they want me as bad as you do.”

“you’d rather come with us, or die with them?”

black cat sighed irritatedly. she darted her eyes once more, and the moment she spotted something in the sky, the ground beneath natasha suddenly shook.

she could only see clint’s arrow fly at the corner of her vision; maria ducking down after something hit her, and then, her own gun flying out of her hands. natasha hit the ground right after, rolling away consciously to avoid whatever had caused the interruption.

the second she gathered her bearings, however, it felt like time had stopped. her heart began beating rapidly, and she knew she should have just bypassed fury’s advice right away then. if she had, she wouldn’t be dealing with this right now.

for if she had, natasha wouldn’t be staring down at you, standing in front of the black cat protectively, glaring at the three of them, and their weapons confiscated and broken into pieces right at your feet.

–

you had never looked more angry. in fact, natasha had never even seen you this angry before. fists clenched, your stance was protective, the eye lenses narrowed and squinting down at her in rage. she had never been subject to even an ounce of irritation from you before. natasha was almost afraid of what would happen.

thankfully, clint and maria had come down from where they were, clint with considerably more caution in his step than he had been much earlier.

he called your name, and, “i need you to calm down. we–”

“–i don’t need to hear an explanation.” you cut him off. behind you, the black cat grinned, and came a little closer. you seemed to pay her no mind.

“we couldn’t tell you,” maria tried helping him, but the glare you shot at her wasn’t much better.

“you absolutely could,” then, your eyes met natasha’s, and she wanted to crumble under your gaze, “you absolutely could.”

clint pointed out it wasn’t fair, that you knew how these things went, and then, in a lower tone, “she doesn’t know. let it go.”

“why were you chasing her?” you only replied, shielding the black cat when maria tried aiming her spare gun as the woman came to your side, “we had a deal.”

“our deal didn’t involve her stealing a necklace that could wreck cities. you’ve already seen the bombings down in harlem and hell’s kitchen, do you still want to protect her for this one?”

your facade cracked in the slightest bit. only natasha noticed, but your eyes had gone slightly wider, a questioning look sent to the woman behind you. with your stance a little more tense, you were about to lower the hand protecting her, when natasha quickly realised that your confrontation had bought her just enough time.

the black cat slung her arms around your torso, and pressed a kiss to your cheek before whispering, “my hero, my spider. always coming to save me.”

all natasha saw was blind rage before the tear gas that black cat had thrown shrouded everything else in pain and smoke. she could hear clint screaming in frustration of just what it meant.

by the time the team had torn through the gas, you and her were gone.

–

clint had exactly three seconds to register the mad woman storming towards him, before he was slammed against the wall with natasha’s face up in his. he breathed heavily, the air still thick from the gas, but natasha’s fists were enough to ground him back to reality.

“alright, enough games. i was kind then, i’m not feeling so kind now. who. exactly. is. this. black. cat?” she gritted her teeth saying the last few words, the searing memory of seeing another press her lips against you still fresh in her mind.

if he wasn’t so afraid for his life, clint would almost have found the jealousy and possessiveness natasha claimed she never had over you quite funny.

but her hands were almost choking him by then, the anger coursing through her veins and the hurt of you keeping such a huge secret from her fuelling only her rage.

had she been a fool for trusting that you would stay loyal in your pure, unbridled love for her all this while? perhaps not. perhaps you, like everyone else, got tired of waiting for her to be ready, too. perhaps you weren’t what she thought you were after all.

when it was clear the archer couldn’t find the words to tell her, maria answered for him. she pulled natasha away, and forced her to think clearly again.

finally, when she was calm enough to hear the both of them out, maria announced that the black cat, felicia hardy, had been your ex-girlfriend.

–

while felicia was more than happy to be swinging through the city in your arms again, you were getting more and more anxious; what clint had said still ringing in your ears. surely, felicia wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t risk her life, and so many others’, like that. surely, she wasn’t so stupid.

you landed abruptly through her apartment window, shattering the glass to her kitchen and throwing the both of you on the ground. felicia groaned at the rough landing, and you had half a mind to apologise for getting distracted and missing the window, but you remembered that you should be even angrier at her.

“what the hell were you doing?” you interrogated, and when it appeared that felicia was keen on escaping, your webs were binding her to the dining room chair. “stealing a necklace, i don’t care. but stealing manfredi’s wife’s necklace!”

“aw, so you do still care about me, spider,” felicia cooed as you took off your mask and sat across from her. you had wanted to shake her in frustration, to give you answers instead of flirting with you once again.

you held your hands out in front of her, and she continued, “bringing me home, swinging through the city, just like we used to. bailing me out from your stupid friends, trying to save the world. you’ve always been a romantic.”

“they’re my colleagues. and my family now too. you…felicia…why?” you still couldn’t wrap your head around why she had decided to steal that necklace, of all things. it was not like she needed the cash, and if she had wanted to find a way to fuck around and feed her kleptomania, there were so many other necklaces that were beautiful, worthy of stealing. surely not manfredi’s.

she shot you a dopey smile, and you sighed in frustration. there was always back and forth with felicia. “spider, spider…”

you stood to clear your head before you would resort to punching her, time being of the essence with so many parts of new york being bombed and her being her usual self around you. heading to her sink, you let the water run; you couldn’t hurt felicia even if you tried. damn yourself for never being able to do so.

but then, her voice was softer, kinder. “...you never considered if what your friends are saying is the truth?”

head hung low, you gazed up to her. the webs were gone, and she was standing over you, though keeping a safe distance. she knew you were still fuming, and confused, and feeling so many things at once. she continued, “you never considered the fact that maybe, just maybe, i didn’t steal the necklace? you blindly trust your friends, just like that?”

your spider senses weren’t tingling. she was being honest. switching off the tap, you turned to face her, and she took off her own goggles, letting her hair down. this was her best attempt at being vulnerable. but you weren’t so quick to fall for it; she had gotten past your defences before. “they’re better at being honest than you are.”

you missed the hurt look that flashed on her face momentarily. then, you stood straighter, a hand gripping the counter as you steadied yourself and what you were about to say.

shaking your head, you faced felicia with, “this, this, is why we broke up. because you can’t stop lying, and you can’t keep the life of crime behind you. even when i told you i can’t stay with you because of it, even when i told you that…if you gave it all up, i would have done anything, anything, to provide for the both of us. i would’ve even left SHIELD, the avengers, everything, for you.”

felicia bit her lip then, crossing over the threshold between the living room and kitchen, standing before you. you weren’t on your guard anymore. she put up a hand to your cheek, the sharp claws slowly running through soft skin. she could have scratched a permanent scar there and you would have let her.

she could have let her emotions run, but felicia was always better than you were at keeping matters close to her heart guarded. instead, she scoffed, and said, “the red one. out of your friends earlier. i’ve never seen her before.”

“she’s…newer.”

“she’s pretty. smart, capable, quick on her feet.” felicia pointed out. you nodded your head, the thought of natasha being mad, and confused, suddenly sending a wave of guilt through your heart. you shouldn’t have gotten so angry with her. she didn’t know.

“she was also green with jealousy when i kissed you on the cheek,” felicia giggled, and you looked up sharply. she nodded, and continued, “are you and red together now?”

you blinked, almost letting your guard down, almost telling felicia everything. that you wished you were together with red, that you loved red more than you loved anything else, that red was all that you ever wanted. and that red, mostly, was not ready for it all, but you would gladly wait for red until she was. that you would do anything for red. that–

“don’t touch her.” you warned, voice suddenly serious. the hand on your face was removed, a death grip with your own. felicia smiled.

“so protective, spider. i miss when you were that protective over me.”

she removed her hand from your own, and walked to her bathroom, before bringing out her first-aid kit. clint had shot an arrow that managed to slice past her thigh. you watched as she nursed herself back to health, not flinching even as she invited you to come over to help.

felicia could tell you had a lot on your mind. bringing up natasha was probably not a good choice. but felicia still cared for you, at the very least, and helped put you out of your misery by saying, later on, “i didn’t steal the necklace, you know. i’m telling the truth.”

your eyes were still fixed on her from where you were in the kitchen. she sighed. “the avengers, and practically everybody else, think it’s me. and of course, i fit the description, i fit the motive, everything. it was so easy to pin it on me and let everyone chase after me. but i didn’t steal the fucking necklace. i found out about it being gone and me being a thief the same time you all did.”

“...then why did you run?”

she scoffed, as if you had just said the stupidest thing in the world. “because they were threatening to kill me, spider. i have the whole world against me. and…and i didn’t have you to come rescue me anymore, i thought. i had to run.”

“when you were innocent?”

“better than being killed by fucking gangsters, right?”

“you could’ve called me.”

she looked up at you. you had sat down in front of her, inspecting the bandages she had wrapped around her thigh. when you slowly unwrapped them to help put them on tighter for her, felicia asked, “...would you have come?”

you didn’t make eye contact with her. but the hand on her thigh was enough reassurance. “you know i would’ve.”

sixty seconds was not a long time. but to felicia, sixty seconds of her own contemplation, her going against her own head and morals, of thinking if it was worth what would come after what she was going to do, felt like forever. she was breathing heavily in the cold night air, your eyes were transfixed on the bandages before you, hand not moving an inch, and she didn’t know what else she was supposed to do. what else she could do.

so after those sixty seconds, felicia leaned in and kissed you. again. again and again, just like old times, just like all those heists and burglaries you had rescued her from before. your lips tasted the same, the arms around her felt as safe as ever, and when she pushed you into her bedroom and began undressing the both of you, the look of longing, and betrayed love you gave her was one she knew all too well.

her hips moved against yours that night, hands thrashing and fingers finding their way into each other’s hair, and for a while, felicia knew she was safe again. for a while, the avengers, manfredi and his stupid goons, everyone else, was drowned out by the sound of your moans and cries, and felicia could let go. she finally reunited with her spider, even if just for a night, and what a reunion it fucking was for her.

–

the next morning, however, you were dressed before she could even lift her head off of the pillow, shaking your head and muttering, “i have to go back. i have to go back. they’ll be looking for me.”

she could tell you were surprised by her interruption of, “and what if they do?”

“they’ll think i’m working with you. and i can’t be seen working with you.”

it felt almost cathartic to say, “fuck you.”

you then turned, a sympathetic look on your face and an apology leaving your lips in the next second. “you know what i mean, felicia.”

“you don’t think i’m telling the truth? that i didn’t steal the fucking necklace?”

you were silent for a while. your hand was crushing the shirt you were holding, deep in thought. if it weren’t for your spider senses, you would have almost missed catching the pillow felicia had thrown at you.

putting the pillow down, you then turned to her again, and said, “i’m giving you the opportunity to prove you’re telling the truth. come back to the avengers tower and work with us on finding the real thief.”

–

natasha couldn’t believe that you thought bringing felicia back was a good idea. that you thought any part of your plan was a good idea at all.

it was one of the rare few times that she had voiced out what she thought was a stupid plan; tapping into the black cat’s skills and intel, and trusting her with information, to draw out the real thief of the necklace. it was one of the rare few times she was arguing with you.

there had been more you’re putting all of us at risk and i don’t see a better solution exchanges between the both of you, each one escalating in intensity. the rest of the team were equally on natasha’s side, with the exception of fury, who had been brought in to weigh in on the situation. you had spent another hour convincing him earlier not to turn felicia in himself.

in the end, he stepped in, and natasha was bound to follow his directions. that didn’t stop her from sporting the most irritated, annoyed look on her face, however, as she brusquely brushed past you and felicia, who looked more than smug that she was temporarily welcomed back to the team. you were about to give chase, when fury instructed you not to. it was best to let natasha calm down first.

“pissed off red to bring me in,” felicia caressed your face then, causing you to bite your lip in annoyance as well, “i’m honoured, spider.”

–

she could feel herself sinking in jealousy; watching the way you and felicia interacted.

you helping felicia to put on the comms in her ear and the bulletproof linings in her suit; you used to help natasha with that. even when she had gotten more accustomed to the avengers, even when she could put it on herself by then.

you letting felicia take the seat beside yours in the quinjet. it clearly was natasha’s, it even had her fucking initials carved into the armrest on it, when she was bored on a flight once. truth be damned that fury had requested you to keep felicia on a tight leash, but the seat beside yours? really? it hurt more than it should have, as natasha forced herself to avoid eye contact with you right as she stormed past you. you only realised your mistake a second or two later, seeing her angry charge to the very back of the jet, and you were just about to ask felicia to move the seat in front of yours when natasha had told you to save whatever you wanted to say to her.

felicia could almost laugh at how nervous, and guilty, you looked all throughout the flight. if she wasn’t so on edge from the mission requirements and having to work in a team herself, she could almost feel a tinge of jealousy that you were treating your new girl better than you had ever treated her, even. red must have been special, she thought, as you finally unbuckled your seatbelt and made the journey to the back when the flight stabilised.

“nat,” you called her uncertainly, fingers digging into your palms as you waited patiently for her to finish chewing out a younger agent to look at you. then, she made eye contact with you, standing by her seat and eyes insecure, and she hated herself for not being able to stay mad at you for long.

still, she had a facade to keep. “what?”

you let out a smile when she came back to your side, gratefully taking the seat beside hers. “i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“i don’t know,” you had an inkling that you knew what, but you continued, “you’re mad at me. and i’m sorry for the disagreement earlier. i just…i have a plan, alright? and i’m sure it’s going to work, so…i wanted to defend myself. i’m sorry if it made you upset.”

she huffed, rolling her eyes. out of the corner of her eye, however, she could spot you looking even more guilty, and she relented. “you did make me mad.”

“i really am–”

“–but work is work, i know. and i trust your capabilities. you better bring the thief back with a plan, because it’s going to be a lot of paperwork and answering to board members if this doesn’t work out. and i’m not staying up late for all the nights you’re going to do that with you.”

she thought it was stupid how her heart managed to beat impossibly faster as your smile grew, nodding gratefully. “thank you for trusting me.”

then, the both of you spotted felicia unbuckling her seatbelt too, and approaching maria upfront. you made the decision to let the agent handle her for a while, returning your gaze to natasha.

somehow, the both of you managed to blurt out felicia’s name at the same time, both raising the other’s eyebrows.

“you go first,” natasha declared. you nodded.

“are you okay with her? i know…that you’re not so comfortable working with the enemy. i’ll keep her by my side for the whole mission, and we’ll stay away, so you don’t get bothered so much.”

natasha thought it was amazing how oblivious you were; that the problem was you being too close to felicia, and not close enough to her. that she didn’t want you sticking by felicia’s side, because she was scared she was going to lose you to her instead.

“i…” before she could finish her sentence, however, maria was screaming for you, for felicia had finally annoyed her enough to warrant a restrain back to her seat. that, coupled with the fact that she had stolen maria’s watch without her looking even back at the construction site, and she had finally noticed.

i wish i didn’t have to share you with her, was what natasha wanted to say, as felicia giggled at your rough handling of her back to her seat, attempting to squirm out of your grasp.

–

the mole had been from SHIELD; as felicia’s expertise let on. she had data from all around new york, obtained less than illegally, and with the technological expertise from maria, the team managed to crack down just who had been plotting for the downfall of manfredi, and collaterally, new york, all along.

the jet made a ninety degree return after wasting time chasing a lead that had previously run dry, and you were at the other end of a phone call receiving fury’s wrath at the discovery of there being a mole from SHIELD. you had wanted to tell him it wasn’t so surprising, with the onslaught of rapid new hires, but decided to hold your tongue.

it was you who finally proved that having felicia onboard was a good idea. coming up with a plan in a span of a few minutes, it was so well thought-out and elaborate, maximising everyone’s skills and covering every single possible outcome for capturing the thief, natasha found herself incredibly endeared with your cleverness; hanging on to your every word as you explained the details to the team gathered around you.

in fact, her dopey look directed at you was what prompted felicia to snicker, and blurt, “so smitten with our spider now are we, red? earlier you looked like you wanted to bite her head off when she was fighting for me.”

to natasha’s surprise, it was you who stepped in first, “enough, felicia. focus.”

it was all the more attractive, and endearing, when she caught you preventing felicia from leaving later, warning her with a “don’t touch her” again, whatever it meant. natasha had wanted to throw her arms around you and kiss you right in that moment.

–

with felicia on her right, and you close behind her, natasha was chasing the thief, almost expertly slipping in and out, zigzagging through the maze of buildings surrounding the area. but you knew that the road would end at an intersection, and natasha and felicia would inevitably have to split to take a chance on where the thief would go.

and while natasha had hoped wholeheartedly that you would take her side, and trust her instincts, her movements faltered when she snuck a look behind to find you gone. in the next second, you were by felicia’s side, helping her whizz through the crowds and getting even closer to the thief as you flew.

heart beating fast in her chest, she hadn’t noticed how much it hurt to even see you choose someone else, even for a brief moment. you had made the decision that would best benefit the team, she knew, but professionalism didn’t count for the ache in her heart then, as she picked up her pace again and unwillingly round the corner in hopes of cutting off the culprit.

–

it was felicia that landed the final blow; catching the thief with a taser sharp enough for you to stop him mid-air, and pinning him to the ground. and after some struggle and maria finally arriving with backup, you were finally relieved of your sudden duties to go on a mission so soon.

catching your breath, you didn’t realise how much your ribs were actually hurting until then. maybe minding your own business the next time wasn’t such a bad idea.

but then, felicia was by your side, providing a shoulder for you to hold on to for support, as you heaved and pressed your arms against your ribs in an effort to stop it from hurting when you breathed too hard. it was one of the few kind things she had done; the least she could do for you after you’ve helped to clear her name, once again.

you leaned into her support, and upon sensing that her job, and temporary alliance with the avengers, was done, she whisked you away briefly to discuss her options before the actual avengers took matters into their own hands.

natasha watched from a distance as you walked away in felicia’s arms; understanding how betrayed you could have felt with the avengers, and how painful it must have been to find a mole in the very organisation you had worked for for so long. what she couldn’t understand was how you could possibly be leaving her, when you would be taking her whole heart with you if you left, as well.

if natasha had more courage, she would have at least tried to stopping you. but she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, ever want to force you to stay. even if it was possibly the last time she was seeing you, even if it meant the possibility of you leaving before she has the chance to tell you she loves you.

her chest was closing in on her, breaths short and restrictive, and natasha knew she had to get away before the world caved in on her.

–

felicia led you into a clearing, and you forced yourself to let go of her to lean against a wall. you could tell she was looking at you with pity, and bit your lip at the foul taste it left in your mouth.

“compromised intelligence, your friends at each others’ throats, your own boss not trusting you enough to see me again,” she pointed out, hiding a teasing smirk, “your future’s looking bright, spider.”

“thanks.”

she watched you slide down the wall, the pain exploding on your side. you hated that she sunk to your level, and reached out for your hand. you didn’t know why you let her. her fingers were cold as she held your own.

“give it up, then. there’s no hope staying now, right?”

you let out a sneer. “then where would i go?”

“with me. come with me. would you be able to do it? give all this up for me now?”

you realised that felicia had suddenly grown more vulnerable; her eyes a little teary and her lip between her teeth. her other hand was helping you hold on to your injury, her touch cold and unsure. a sigh left your lips, knowing her usual teasing glint was gone. this was the felicia you loved most in the past.

but it was not felicia you loved, not anymore. and while you were thankful for the opportunity to love her, and that you didn’t regret what you had with her, you knew your heart was with someone else now. someone who was waiting for you to return home to her, someone who loved you more than you knew of it yourself.

you slowly removed the hand that was holding your injury, smiling at felicia. she knew.

“red?”

“i have red now. and you and i are better off apart, you know this, felicia,” you held her face in your hands then, tone comforting, “you know i care about you, always have, always will. and thank you, for loving me, and helping us for this mission. but i’m not going anywhere without natasha.”

her claws withdrawn, felicia nodded understandingly. you continued, “keep your head low for a while. manfredi will still be looking for you, so will the police. i’ll try to cover up for you as much as i can, but don’t get into too much trouble. there’s only so much i can do.”

she laughed, getting up as she heard the police sirens approaching. she was sure you had picked up on it much earlier.

“red really is special, huh?” you nodded at her question, smiling at the thought of going back to natasha later on.

“bye for now then, spider,” her hair blowing in the wind, felicia almost looked finally at peace.

“take care, felicia.”

you informed the police officers that you saw the black cat disappear from your sight just seconds before you arrived.

–

natasha was lying alone in bed by the time the other avengers returned. having left early, her room was dark and silent; the only sounds of her chest heaving quickly and her cracked sobs filling the air.

there was a knock on the door from maria, calling out for her, but natasha ignored her subsequent knocks after telling her to go away from the first one.

but then an hour later, there were two signature knocks on her door, following by you keying in the passcode to her room that she had only told you, and natasha’s attention was suddenly rapt.

she realised she probably looked a mess, and pathetic, for sobbing her eyes at out at the mere possibility of you leaving. but in her defence, she didn’t know, and you mattered too much to her for her to see you leave right in front of her eyes.

“don’t switch on the light,” she warned, and your hand retracted from the light switch. you were about to ask her why, when she continued, “just…come here. come here and hold me, please.”

you were more than happy to oblige, sliding between the sheets and having your arms find themselves around her shivering body. she naturally leaned back into you, and natasha wondered if your senses were more elevated than she thought they could be, as your hands came up to wipe the tears she didn’t want you to see.

at the comfort of your touch, she could only ask, “...are you leaving me? for…the black cat?”

she could feel you smile behind her, and your head resting at the space between her neck and shoulder. instead of replying, you said, “i actually went out to get you some donuts, and a few movies for us to watch, you know. i finally get to welcome you home, properly.”

natasha feels like her heart is going to burst. you chose her.

“but of course…just being with you is enough. just us, staying like this, is enough.”

natasha finally turned, seeing that you were still injured, but you reassured her by slowly massaging the frown and worry lines off her face.

she pouted. “she’s pretty.”

you brought her to a sitting position, letting her on top as you rubbed your hands over her back. “you’re prettier.”

“has nice blue eyes.”

you kissed her, softly, slowly. “mhmm, i prefer green eyes.”

“i bet you looked good with her.” she could only imagine how powerful the two of you looked; the spider and the black cat swinging through new york city. it was definitely a force to be reckoned with.

you let her see the selection of donuts you had bought; each spelling out a letter in welcome home. “i feel better when i’m with you.”

natasha finally looks back up at you, and she understands. you never had the intention of leaving. you belonged to her, right from the start.

that night, when you had fallen asleep, one arm slung around her protectively, natasha finally has the courage to tell you what she has always felt.

“i love you,” she says, before amassing all her love into the kiss she landed on your lips.

in your slumber, you smiled, and the redness didn’t leave her cheeks, even until the morning.

#natasha romanoff x reader #felicia hardy x reader #black widow x reader #black cat x reader #natasha romanoff #felicia hardy #black cat #black widow #marvel cinematic universe #natasha romanoff x spidey!reader

2K notes · View notes

munariplans · 3 months

Text

just came across this, one of the best and sweetest wanda fics out there for wanda’s loves <3

meant to be yours | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

Nearly eight years after your breakup with her, you meet Wanda again when she enrols her children at the preschool you work at, evoking a multitude of old feelings and regrets.

Word count: 14 245

Tags: angst, fluff, pining that is a lot more mutual than it seems to either of you, mentions of marital issues, sorority!wanda & milf!wanda (best of both worlds), doctor doom makes his grand entrance

For the last few years, all Wanda has known how to do is compromise. It was a method of survival, a way to make sure she made something of herself as she aged.

The life she had made for herself wasn’t what she’d envisioned; ever since high school, Wanda dreamed of being a journalist for a fashion line. She loved writing and fashion design although the last time she ever had any large projects with either of those passions was in college.

Somewhere along the way, Wanda became convinced that the only thing she could ever be good at was planting down exactly where she’d always been — not taking leaps of faith lest she tumble and have nothing to fall back on.

That was why she settled for a life married to her college boyfriend, staying at home most of the time caring for her two four-year-olds, Tommy and Billy. They were raised to be good, sweet boys, and though Wanda had heaps of regrets, her sons were always her greatest joys.

Victor Doom was an aerospace engineer who focused on robotics and developing other technological advancements for the company at which he worked — the household’s breadwinner.

In college he was especially well-known for being one of if not the only campus frat boy with a working brain, who in his final year helped paton tech with his astrophysics professor, subsequently earning himself a position as an engineer at a renowned corporation where he’s since been employed.

All she’d been doing since college was compromise — where to relocate, when to have children, whether or not she pursued a career. Some days she was somehow comforted by the fact that she didn’t need to do any more than live in the providing shadow of her husband, for it meant that she never had to reach for anything above, and that meant she never had to risk failing.

But other days, when she was selfish, Wanda wished she had more. She wished she had more friends, she wished she had a better marriage and a fulfilling job. Then she’d make dinner for her husband and settle around the table with him and Tommy and Billy at the end of the day and realise that she couldn’t have what she sometimes felt she wanted.

How could she?

At thirty years old with no opportunity for anywhere but forward along the path she’d always been afraid to step off of, there was nothing more for her but this.

In the morning an argument took place in the kitchen, hushed and whispered so as to keep it muffled from the twins who were sleeping upstairs. Victor and Wanda had been discussing putting the twins into the summer preschool program for some time, as the private school they were planning on enrolling them in the fall semester had an optional preschool program.

He was on board up until this morning when Wanda brought up the idea that she use the free time to get a part-time job at a local newspaper company that was looking for journalists.

Upset at her suggestion, he called her selfish and accused her of intentionally suggesting bringing the twins to preschool so she could waste time on her own self-absorbed endeavours. She tried to tell him that she felt she had to do more with herself, and that she didn’t only want to be a stay-at-home mother, especially when she had the education to pursue a career like he did.

Rationally he couldn’t understand her wanting to find a job when he provided everything and more for their family, but it was her comparison of their likeness that set Victor off and he became furious and had trouble keeping his voice down, forcing Wanda to quickly abandon the idea of applying to the part-time job to keep him placated.

He left in a frustrated state though he ended up getting what he wanted, and Wanda woke the boys up for their first day of preschool.

The two young boys had moved to cuddle up beside each other through the night, with Tommy having switched beds to sleep next to his brother.

Wanda woke the both of them, running her hands over their tiny heads and soft hair, and she watched as their little noses scrunched up and their short little arms unwrapped from each other's warm pyjama-clad bodies.

As she watched them arise, she thought to herself how lovely it would be to care for her sweet sons like this for a very long time, and she realised how not-so-terrible living a life without pursuing her other dreams would be.

“G’Morning, mama,” Billy mumbled and his mother leaned down to kiss his scrunched up little nose.

Oh, it wouldn’t be terrible at all.

In the car after breakfast, Wanda explained to the twins what preschool was and how much fun it would be to meet new friends and play games a few days a week. The boys were thrilled and their mother was relieved, for Wanda didn’t wish to abandon the plan she and her husband had made by letting Tommy and Billy skip their first day, and she knew that if she let them stay home because of their whining, they’d whine all day until their father returned home in the evening.

But fortunately for her, the twins were ecstatic.

She didn’t know until her arrival that the first day was also when the parents were allowed a sit-in to allow the children to acclimate while also giving them a first-hand perspective of their child’s first day.

From the preschool calendar, she knew the potluck was on Friday but not that the first day was practically an orientation. If she knew, she would’ve insisted for Victor to take at least the morning off to join her in it.

The forty-minute long sit-in orientation where Wanda sat on a short plastic chair along the edge of the learning carpet along with all the other parents allowed for them to see for themselves that their children would get the most out of their preschool experiences, and that they could be relied on to care for their children.

As she gathered her things that were asked to be placed atop the class desks along with all the other parents’ belongings in the back, Wanda watched as the parents around her seemed to make fast friends. She wondered if they had all somehow known each other before the first day.

In any case, she felt lonely without her husband, especially as she watched her sons socialise joyfully with the other children of the class, watching the precious sight of their children take place without her husband with her.

She carefully slipped away along the walls from the groups of quietly chatting parents as they also gathered their things until a familiar voice made Wanda’s perk up as if she was suddenly summoned by dog whistle.

Darting her eyes around the busy room, Wanda walked forward slowly as her eyes raked through the classroom behind the heap of parents between her and the voice that seemed to come from the back of the classroom, to the right, and…

Wanda’s chest tightened painfully and her breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of you. It was you with your hair but longer now, your height the same as it had been, your voice that was a few slight tweaks worth’s difference from the one that had been echoing in Wanda’s mind, albeit fainter these days, ever since the last she heard it in person.

Her hand reached back and she pressed the pad of her finger into a sharp edge of the cubbies behind her, sending a sharp pain up the nerves of her finger and forcing sound through its muffled barrier and finally freeing her locked joints.

She tore her eyes away from you and stopped just before the doorframe of the classroom.

Carefully, when she had confidence in her breathing, Wanda raised her head and took another look at you.

All the different ways she’d start a conversation with you ran through her mind and she soon began thinking of all the things she’d like to say, all the things she’d like to ask you and all the things she wanted to know about how you were living your life now.

But her fingers tightened around the doorknob and she looked over to it, seeing the gold of her wedding ring reflect the classroom lights. Then she suddenly felt unbecoming and terrible about herself, so she looked back and saw her boys enjoying themselves under the watch of the preschool teachers before she quietly slid out of the class.

When Victor came home early and agreed to go pick up the boys to make up for his absence at the sit-in, Wanda quickly looked through her closet and searched for the letters she received from you the summer she was with you during which she had a three-week long trip to Saint Petersburg with her family.

As the tips of her fingers felt the base of a small rectangular box, Wanda began slowly running the pads of her fingers along the bottom until they caught onto the slim edge of an old sheet of paper.

Slowly as to not rip it, Wanda slid the paper out along the open space between the edge of the box and the other stacked mementos she’d kept since college.

Since you.

Before she opened the letter, she questioned why she’d even gotten the urge to look for it and what she was initially intending for when she began searching for it. She looked down and saw the familiar loops and lines of your handwriting and she abandoned the train of thought, slowly unfolding the sheet and raising it up so she could read it.

For some reason she felt guilty for how long it’d been since she last read from it, and the part of her from her younger years scolded her for stopping the way she used to run her eyes over every inch of your penmanship since the last time she was with you.

Anyways, Wanda read through the letter and felt an addictive pulse resounding within her chest, a lightness and a sort of prickly sharp wave that seized her throat and travelled down into her lungs.

As she let the recollection of having ever been worthy enough for this kind of love, reading the way you described how much you missed her while she was gone and how much you loved her, Wanda felt an odd sense of despair knowing such a thing could only ever exist for her through memory.

She couldn’t quite ask herself whether she was mourning the kind of love that was written on the paper or just who she received it from.

Still as she tucked away the letter and ran the tips of her fingers over the other stashed-away mementos in the box, Wanda still couldn’t figure out why she wanted to look for them in the first place, why seeing you today made her want to open the box hidden along the top back corner of her closet.

But she still sorted through it, seeing a flyer for one of your college plays in there and a music CD you put together for her, and more small trinkets all with meaning and all safely-kept through the years to keep the memory of you stored.

Downstairs, the front door opened and along came the excited footsteps of Tommy and Billy, and Wanda tucked everything back into the box and placed it back into the top shelf of her side of the walk-in closet.

Friday came around, and this time Victor did take a day off to go with Wanda to the potluck; parents and children alike from both the elementary and preschool were being invited to have lunch together for a traditional welcoming event for the start of the summer.

Since Tommy and Billy had already made a handful of friends and were by then already quite attached to the idea of playing with their friends outside the classroom, they were dressed in their very best for the sunny day.

Wanda made a conscious effort to look her best too, for she knew that today she was finally going to come up with the confidence to start a conversation with you. She tried to approach it from a professional point of view, to see it as practical if anything to make connections with the preschool’s instructors.

But she couldn’t deny the way she kept adjusting and readjusting her hair in the side mirror of the car as Victor drove them to lunch, and that wasn’t really required of her to be practical.

Tommy and Billy tugged at their father’s hands and pulled them towards the preschool, excited to show him what he’d been missing while he was at work.

There were a bit more people than Wanda anticipated though the expansive playing field of the preschool was certainly enough for the size of both the preschoolers and the kindergarteners from the private school. So she carefully slipped through the crowds and towards the potluck’s tables to set down the dish she made at home.

She saw you there too amongst a line of other parents along the edge of the table filling their plates.

You were one of the teachers’ assistants from what Tommy and Billy had told her during their many excited retellings of their days when they got back home.

Wanda inhaled sharply and kept the casserole dish in her hands as she subtly waited for the line of parents to clear so she could inch her way closer to you. She spotted a clearing on the table that was close to you and carefully set it down.

She pressed the pads of her fingers into the scalding ceramic to give herself some confidence and she looked up from the table of food, finally laying her eyes on your face within a metre from you for the first time in nearly eight years.

To seem as if she’d approached you naturally, Wanda cleared her throat a little and turned her body to face you. She tucked her hair behind her ear and parted her lips.

It all seemed like she was moving too slowly — mechanically — while the beating of her heart made her feel like she was moving too quickly — messily.

“Hi,” she said, stupidly. She got your attention at least and you lifted your head and looked at her.

It was then that Wanda felt she’d bitten off far more than she could chew as she felt herself seized by the sight of you.

Your hair was longer, like she’d seen on Monday. You looked older now, but the years had been very kind to you. She felt herself ache. You looked so beautiful, and she felt she would be trapped in this moment forever, unable to look away from you, feeling that if she had, you might suddenly disappear for another eight years.

The slight stutter in your greeting might’ve indicated to anyone else that you did recognise her and that her presence in front of you had stunned you momentarily, but Wanda, caught up and otherwise distracted by the sight of you, didn’t notice and so she introduced herself.

“I don’t know if you remember me from college, but–”

You nodded and interrupted her, “Wanda.”

Wanda hoped you didn’t notice how her eyes fell to your lips as you said her name, listening with her interest piqued the most beautiful medley of sound as it came from the way your lips wrapped around each syllable of her name.

It felt like an eternity had passed before your eyes garnered her attention again and she replied with a smile that looked relieved, perhaps because of the fact that you’d remembered her. “How have you been doing? It’s been a long time.”

“I’ve been okay,” you answered simply, almost hesitant to share your present life with a figure of your past.

You looked over to the other side of the sunny field where the twins were being carried on Victor’s shoulders. “They’re yours, right?” you asked, gesturing over to them. “Billy and Tommy.”

Wanda nodded proudly, looking over at her playing children before back over to you. “How did you know? Did they mention me?”

“Anyone who went to college with us still remembers the last name of the all-famous Victor Doom,” you said with a chuckle that might’ve seemed resentful to Wanda if she still wasn’t so taken by the sight of you.

“But, how are you?” you asked more seriously, straightening and looking at her. “You look great. What have you, uh, been doing? The last few years.”

She flushed when she watched you look down at her outfit and her hair and she fidgeted with her fingers, absently rubbing her thumb against tablecloth. “Not very much,” she answered. “I got married — to Victor, as you saw — then had Tommy and Billy.”

“That… sounds like a lot,” you said with a lighthearted laugh.

Wanda felt her heart beating against her ribs in a way that made her take in a breath to relieve the tension she felt in her chest as she listened to the way you laughed. She felt like a stupid flaky college sorority girl again.

“A lot, but not what I imagined for myself,” she confessed.

With an understanding nod, you then said, “You seem to be doing great for yourself, though.”

A cool wave of validation came over her and she beamed. “Thank you,” she responded.

“A-And, you? Are you seeing any–”

Before Wanda could finish her question, one of the other instructors, one whose name Wanda did not know, called you over. You excused yourself and Wanda completely understood, allowing you to head over to where you were needed.

Although she had chances to approach you again throughout the afternoon, Wanda instead kept looking over at you from afar between conversations with her husband or other friends she miraculously made with other mothers.

She didn’t want to press, and she was worried that the thrill of seeing you inflated her sense of reality, and she didn’t want to overstep or misread anything.

After all, the last you’d spoken wasn’t on very good terms and although the years may have done away with the wounds from what had happened, no amount of time could change a future friendship that might simply cease to exist because of the past.

So Wanda had to settle with having only a single brief conversation with the person whose letters she’d kept since college, and she left the potluck early with her husband so the boys could bring one of their friends home for a playdate.

To celebrate the start of the summer and the successful lunch, Wanda and Victor stopped at a farmer’s market that they passed in the car for ice cream with the twins and the friend they were bringing home.

As they waited in line, Wanda began to wander and eventually found herself in front of a handmade jewellery booth. She was initially looking in a solely appreciative way, not planning on buying anything but in awe of the shop owner’s talent until she laid her eyes on a pair of earrings.

She reached for them and brought them up into the light of the sun and out of her shadow so she could more clearly look at the tiny silver dolphins hanging from them. They were perhaps half an inch in size and really adorable and subtle.

The rest of her family caught up to her with ice cream in the young boys’ hands while Wanda had just purchased the dolphin earrings. She showed them to Tommy when he questioned what she’d bought.

“It’s so pretty,” Billy mused.

Wanda agreed, “It is really pretty.”

“Is it a gift, mama?” asked his twin.

“A little bit of one, maybe,” she answered with a contemplative hum then took his hand as the five of them headed back to the car together.

She’d wear it eventually.

Dolphins were your favourite animal.

That evening after the boys had gone to bed, Wanda straddled her husband’s hips in their bedroom, knees hugging either side of his lap as he guided her forward with his hands on her hips. He thrusted up into her while Wanda leaned forward with her hand flat beside his head to keep herself up.

She was too much in her head to enjoy herself — not that Victor cared whether she was involved during sex, and she couldn’t stop thinking of the letter she reread earlier that week and the dolphin earrings she bought and how pretty you looked at the potluck.

With a final grunt and a particularly harsh thrust into her that made Wanda wince beyond the mess of her hair, Victor released into her and soon untensed. He lifted her from his hips and ran his hand down the side of her bare thigh, perhaps meant to be some act of affection, before turning onto his side with a satisfied exhale.

Wanda cleaned herself up in the washroom and once she finished washing her face before heading to bed, she looked at herself in the mirror and felt something curious and desolate, so she stepped forward to get a better look at herself.

She wasn’t under any form of illusion; she was well-aware of how she’d aged over the years, from occasional periodic observations like how her skin looked a tad different in certain places.

But under the burning scrutiny of the washroom lighting, all Wanda could see were smile lines and signs of ageing and reminders upon reminders about how differently she looked from the last time she was with you in college.

Ever since she saw you for the first time in eight years on Monday, you were her landmark in time for nearly everything. She made dozens of comparisons a day, seeing how much things had changed and when the last time she thought of something was — minuscule things that seemed significant when she wondered about how you saw things from your perspective.

Tonight, she wondered how you might think of how she looked now.

She wasn’t sure what she was hoping for, but Wanda knew she’d been hoping for something because the very sight of how she looked in the mirror made her feel let-down, almost hopeless.

And you looked so pretty at the potluck.

There were things about herself that she was glad had changed since college, but she wasn’t in any way thrilled about how much she seemed to have aged.

Victor had brought it up a handful of times before, but it was only under the light of the washroom with the thought of you in mind that Wanda realised how right he was.

Wanda wasn’t sure how exactly she was feeling by the time she shut the washroom light off and went to bed, but she knew that she was certainly glad to finally pull her attention away from the mirror and to think of only you when she closed her eyes instead of her reflection.

Over the next week or so, Wanda tried her best to be impartial with how she approached driving the boys to and from preschool while also ensuring that she only behaved as any other mother would around you.

She allowed Victor to drop the twins off and pick them up without insisting she go along just to see you, and if she did catch sight of you, she’d try her best to wave only when it seemed necessary — when anyone else would’ve done it.

The feelings that buried themselves deep within Wanda’s chest ever since she first saw you nearly three weeks ago had begun to overcome her in a way that she could only rely on convention to ensure she was behaving as she should.

But after a while she began to miss interacting with you and after an amount of time she started to feel picky about how to approach you again.

Fortunately, Tommy and Billy’s birthdays were approaching and they were adamant about having you there; it gave her an excuse to start a conversation with you.

So while Wanda went to pick the boys up from school, she approached you while you were with the kids, waiting for them to get picked up by the rest of the parents as they played outside.

“Hi, Y/N,” she greeted with a smile, elated at the feeling of saying your name out loud.

She was standing on the outside of the picket fence while you were on the other side, turning to face her.

“Oh, hey!” you said and smiled too in a way that made Wanda feel like she wasn’t being too awkward. “Let me get the twins for you.”

Before you could leave, Wanda quickly interjected, “Actually, I was wondering if I’d be able to ask you something.”

You seemed the slightest bit wary and that brought about a twinge of sadness within Wanda, but she pressed on anyway; she could understand why you’d be doubtful of her intentions, even after all the years that’s passed.

“This is... a little embarrassing to ask,” she began hesitantly, “but the twins begged for me to invite you to their birthday party this Sunday, so I was wondering if you’d like to come. They talk about you a lot and I think they’d just like for their favourite person to attend.”

She probably talked too much.

“Favourite person, huh?” you repeated with an amused smile.

Wanda was reassured by your lighthearted response. “Their words,” she said.

“And their mother and father?”

“Forgotten — completely.”

You both laughed, though Wanda a moment after you as she was initially taken by the sight of sheer joy on your face, caused all because of her.

After taking a moment to seriously consider the offer, you said, “Sunday? I can’t do that day, sorry. Would I be able to drop off a gift instead on Saturday?”

“Oh, that’s fine!” Wanda reassured with a wave of her hand. “Actually, we’re having dinner with just the four of us on Saturday, so you’re welcome to join us then instead.”

You had a feeling that Wanda was sort of trying her best to have you attend something for the twins, but a part of you also felt she was trying hard just to have you there.

Though you knew you were completely free on Saturday, you took a moment before answering to look a bit less rushed in responding to Wanda’s offer.

“Saturday should work,” you confirmed with a nod.

Wanda perked up and smiled, thrilled at succeeding in inviting you over for dinner. “Alright. That sounds good.”

She watched as you pulled your phone out from your pocket and she swallowed, forcing herself not to hope too much from what you were about to do, as you easily could’ve been checking the time.

But then you asked, “Would you mind if I got your number? So you can text me the address and all.”

Wanda hoped her fingers weren’t trembling as much as she felt they were as she reached forward and took your phone with an attempt at a professional nod.

“Of course,” she managed to say, repressing the onset of an excited smile.

You caught sight of her flushed cheeks and the forming dimples as she held back a smile, but you weren’t entirely sure what it meant.

Years ago you would’ve pinned it as a flattered blush, hints of a heart tenderly-touched and a sensitive soul. But the Wanda you eventually came to know… was disingenuous.

Most things with her were.

You tried not to be bitter and childish about what had happened years ago though you were almost certain that people like her didn’t change; you had to look away.

On Saturday evening, Wanda had finished getting dressed in something casual for a dinner at home but formal enough for having a guest over, and she was standing in front of her vanity surveying the dolphin earrings in the palm of her hand.

She hadn’t worn them yet; she was saving them for a special occasion, for when she really wanted to make a gesture.

But the silver of the dolphins were too reflective and the shape of the animal would’ve been clear from even two metres away, and that wasn’t subtle enough for the steadily-budding rekindling between her and you.

So she opened her jewellery box and tucked the earrings away safely for a different time — a time she hoped would eventually come.

And most importantly, Wanda didn’t want to drive you away.

Wanda was in the kitchen putting together some drinks when you knocked at the front door, gift in-arm. She looked over at the door, feeling a fury of anxious butterflies burst in her stomach as the reality set in that she was going to have dinner with you.

Victor announced that he’d get the door and descended from upstairs where he’d been helping the boys get dressed for their very special guest.

From the kitchen, Wanda could hear you greet her husband at the door and she began to steady her breathing. She focused instead on carefully placing mint into the cocktail glasses.

“Is she… here?” she asked Victor over her shoulder in the most inconspicuous way she could when he stepped into the kitchen to check on the food.

“She’s waiting in the den,” he answered. “I told her you’d come around with drinks.”

Wanda told him it’d only be a few minutes until the rice and stir-fry would be ready, so he went back up to help finish getting the twins dressed before dinner was served.

On top of the fireplace in the den was a framed picture of Wanda’s college sorority, and leaning close to take a better look at it felt like peering into a sort of time machine. It felt like a completely different life, yet you could almost just recall things like when exactly the photo was taken as if it’d happened only months ago.

The photo was of the entire sorority coming together to take a picture before campus closed for a week for the holidays. It was during a sorority event at the city’s ice rink, and you recalled being dragged over to it by Wanda, who was your girlfriend at the time.

You were posed together near the corner of the group of other girls, Wanda’s arms squeezed around your shoulders while she stood on a pair of ice skates.

“I made this for you,” a voice approached from behind, and you turned to see Wanda walking into the den with a drink in both hands. “A mojito. But for yours, without any alcohol because I know you’ll be driving home.”

She was wearing a red turtleneck and slacks. She had an expensive-looking watch on and pearl earrings, and for the first time you considered how rich she must be now that she was married to Victor Doom.

Wanda saw the drink in the cocktail glass tremble slightly before you finally took it from her with a ‘thank you’ and she rubbed her palm down her hip nervously.

The warmth from the fireplace made her cheeks feel so warm, and the shade of the fire made your skin look so pretty and soft with the way the gentle orange flickered against your face.

“So you have this picture here,” you noted and took a sip of the mojito as you gestured to the framed picture. “Framed and up on the mantle.”

Wanda tapped her fingernail against the side of the glass as she looked at the photo over your shoulder.

Damn.

She forgot to take it down before you came, and now she looked obsessive and childish and overbearing. She would understand if you saw it that way, for there was really only one reason she’d ever have that photo up in her house, and she looked at it every single time she passed it since she moved in.

“Y-Yes,” Wanda stuttered and straightened, feeling the condensation from the glass trickle down her fingers. She smiled a little, because she was a bit proud of the picture.

She couldn’t read your expression, not when your back was turned, until you looked back at her and said in a lighthearted tone, “You must’ve not changed very much since college, huh?”

It wasn’t accusing or rude, and Wanda felt that it would’ve hurt less if you had said it as an insult; you said it as if you’d never expected her to be different.

Even if it were true that Wanda hadn’t changed since college, the realisation wouldn’t have even disappointed you.

You would’ve expected it, and that made something behind Wanda’s ribcage ache.

Her lips parted to say something, perhaps to protest, but she couldn’t figure out what she wanted to say before the shrill cheers of Tommy and Billy ran into the room at the sight of you.

Wanda stepped back and allowed them to tackle you excitedly before you set the mojito on the coffee table so you could lean down and hug them, wishing them both an early happy birthday.

She listened, partially-absent, as you told the boys you’d give them their gifts after dinner. She watched you mostly, and how little you’d changed in the way you laughed and teased.

Did it always feel like this, eight years ago?

Had she been so cruel with you that you truly couldn’t believe she was one to change after so long?

Was this the first time, out of all the inevitable others, that she realised the hurt she made you feel?

Victor called from the kitchen announcing that the dinner was ready and Wanda blinked out of her stupor to kiss the foreheads of her children and let you walk ahead first as the twins led you forward.

You looked so pretty wearing a knit pullover that made everything about you look so soft and smelling of sweet sparkling champagne.

The mojito made her a little tipsy and she felt her face’s warmth as she kept looking up from her plate and over at you across the table where you were discussing all sorts of things with Tommy and Billy, who were still practically buzzing with joy at having you over for dinner.

She watched your lips as they moved, imagined you reciting the words from the letter you wrote her years ago — imagined you meaning them like you did back then too.

Since she reread the letter for the first time in a while just three weeks ago, she could recall every word of it again like she used to be able to when she was much younger.

She felt ashamed of herself and looked away from you to spare her dignity, though it would not be the last time she did.

For most of the dinner, Wanda was silent; Victor was always more of the talker between the two of them, she liked getting to watch you without the fear of sounding obsessive, and she very much enjoyed listening to you interact with the twins without interrupting.

It was only during the gift-opening after dinner that Wanda blurted out in the middle of a conversation.

They were opening up a wrapped book to see a picture book guide of dolphins, and Wanda was only halfway into feeling shocked about the coincidence before Billy giggled and said, “You really like dolphins as much as mama said.”

“What?” Wanda all but coughed out.

Billy excitedly flipped through the book and insisted, “Mama, you said.”

“I…” She cleared her throat and her eyes flickered over to your face, half-expecting you to be furious for some reason. “I-I said what, Billy?”

“That Y/N likes dolphins,” Tommy answered and looked up from the book, now confused by his mother’s confusion.

Wanda shook her head insistently. “I don’t think I…” She trailed off and brought the rim of her mojito up to her lips to shut herself up.

Her avoidance of your eyes made her miss how you looked across the dinner table at her and her flushed cheeks.

Victor made a joke about how forgetful his wife was and although it was a tad too degrading for dinner with their children, Wanda was thankful for it anyways for it cancelled out any impending awkward silences caused by her inability to behave properly around you.

Just how much had she been thinking of you to the point of completely tuning out when she spoke about you in front of her children?

“We’ve been talking a lot about dolphins at school,” you said and wiggled your eyebrows at them. “We’re learning about our favourite animals.”

You reached into the bag and pulled out two adorable stuffed animals, a horse and a red cardinal — the twins’ favourites.

As they cheered and stood from their seats to round the table and hug you tightly, Wanda felt a mix of emotion whirling within her, a sense of shame and humiliation, but also so much adoration for you.

To the boys’ dismay, their bedtime came quicker than it felt it had and Wanda had to put them to bed. They both whined although having been given an extra hour to stay up for their birthday dinner with Y/N, but like the sweet boys they were, eventually listened to their mother’s delicate discipline.

Her greatest, greatest prides.

They were good boys.

Wanda had the twins say goodnight to you and thank you for coming, then excused herself for a moment to put them to bed. She’d come back down to see you out, but until then you promised to help clean up after dinner with Victor.

“You know, I remember a lot about you from college,” Victor told you as he handed you a glass to dry.

You placed the dry glass onto the rack beside the sink then replied, “I remember a lot about you too. Though, uh, we didn’t really talk, I think.”

“Yeah, but I talked a lot with Wanda,” he said. “And she’d blabber about you, like, every other day sometimes. So it feels like I know you well.”

Something about that made you bristle; you didn’t want to be known by Victor Doom.

When you were finished with the dishes, Victor dried his hands and leaned against the sink, scrutinising you in an odd way.

“You look good,” he then complimented.

The flicker in his eyes suddenly became perceptible, and you quickly picked up on what he was trying to inch closer to.

You eyed the front foyer then looked back over to him to continue seeing civil. “Thank you,” you answered simply.

He was tall.

Imposing.

“Are you with anyone I’d know from college?” he asked, moving the dish cloth between his fingers.

“No.”

He scoffed in teasing disbelief. “I’m not under any illusion that…” He trailed off with a chuckle, leaving the rest of his words to imagination. “Especially when time’s done you so well.”

You felt like tearing your hair out and you felt a dozen weights being lifted from your shoulders when you heard Wanda begin to descend the staircase.

“Give me your number,” Victor then asked in a hushed, hurried tone. “We’ll set something up.”

Wanda reaching the bottom of the staircase allowed you to quickly slip out of the constricting corner of the kitchen and you grabbed your things from the sofa in the den before following you out to the front porch.

Victor Doom was still a huge dick, and you were beginning to have a terrible perspective on the couple. They didn’t change at all, and you weren’t sure what you came to the dinner anticipating, but knowing that Victor was still the kind of man Wanda was comfortable being married to planted an indescribable bitterness in you.

“Thank you for coming,” Wanda said quietly as the warm silence of the summer evening soon enveloped the two of you alone on the porch when she closed the front door.

“The boys really, really enjoyed having you over. I’m sure they’ll be talking about it for weeks,” she added with a laugh.

You nodded and turned to look at her. “Yeah. It’s no problem, I really enjoyed celebrating with them. They’re lovely,” you answered.

Being in front of you now, Wanda wanted to say a lot and wanted to ask you about everything you’d been up to over the last eight years.

There was no one to interrupt now, and it would be alright and objectively appropriate to start some small talk about your life while also being able to hide her buzzing curiosity behind convention.

But all she could find herself telling you was one thing — all that she could get past her lips.

“I really… I really have changed since college, Y/N,” she uttered quietly, pressing her nail into the pad of her thumb in front of her stomach.

It was important to her that you knew that for some reason.

You regarded her for a moment then nodded, and Wanda seemed relieved at what seemed to her as trust established.

The moment you stepped onto the porch, you told yourself how irritated you were at both Wanda and Victor, how unimpressed and upset you’d felt because of how little she’d changed since college.

Yet all you could think about on the way home was her.

It felt that something was gnawing at you from the inside, pricking at your skin each time it fought its way closer to realisation, but still you couldn’t figure out why you felt the way you did with Wanda.

For years the feeling had been asleep within you, unwoken and put to bed the day of college graduation when you caught sight of Wanda trying to approach you before you left the graduation ceremony.

That was the last you ever saw of her before earlier this month.

It was painful to recall the time you used to spend with her, but freeing, in a way.

You remembered how idiotically in love you were with her at the time, how naive and new everything felt. It was torturous to recall how it all ended up, but… thinking about how she used to make you feel made you feel exhilarated and you wondered if what you were doing was some sort of sick form of masochism.

All the music CDs burned for her to play when she was away from you, the letters to her written with a careful hand — all so childish that it was worthy of some form of envy.

You questioned if you were envious of the childish-like view of the world that you had when you were in love with Wanda or if it was the love itself.

Either way, it was an unreachable thing of the past.

You grew up, and Wanda…. was Wanda. She always would be.

Weeks before the actual breakup, things had begun to dwindle between you and your girlfriend. She took frequent rain checks on your plans together to be able to tend to the sorority as the end of the year was approaching and the group traditionally began recruiting for the next year before the summer.

But at the same time, your theatre was finally putting on the show they’d spent all year putting together, months of hard work spent on funding and prop and costume design — everything from the casting to the lighting crew was created from scratch since the start of September.

You understood, time and time again, that Wanda had her own priorities with her own friends and hobbies. She helped with some things where she could, and you loved when she did.

Some late nights were spent designing costumes together because Wanda had always been interested in fashion, and oftentimes she helped with those designs while you worked on putting together props.

She wasn’t a college student or a sorority girl when you spent those late evenings together — she was just Wanda. But sometimes you felt like even Wanda didn’t know who she was during those years, and that was hard to keep up with.

In spite of missing your practices and flaking on days where she promised to read over your scripts or touch up on the costumes, Wanda vowed to make it for your play’s showing.

The only issue was that on the same day there was an initiation for the new recruits, and Wanda was required to attend as an upcoming alumni.

It would end before your showing and although there’d be an afterparty to celebrate, she also promised that she’d go right to the theatre to watch once the initiation ended.

Anxiously, you stood by the edge of the stage behind the curtains with a clear view of the front doors as you waited for Wanda to arrive. She had a seat in the front row where you could see her from anywhere to the right of the stage behind the curtains so you could watch her reactions to her performers wearing her designs.

Then a few anxious minutes turned into half an hour, and she still hadn’t come.

By then you knew that the initiation was over because Wanda gave you a definite time it would be finished by, which was well before the start of the play.

You sent her a few texts, but by the second to last act, you knew she wasn’t coming and you stopped messaging.

Maybe it was unfair to place her attendance on the kind of pedestal you did, because it wasn’t any sort of objective truth how important it was that she came.

It was a play you helped write while thinking of her, props you made sitting with her in the living room — just the two of you, hours upon hours painting and writing and designing all while trying to see the set through her eyes.

You imagined you knew her well enough to see from her shoes, anyways.

A whole year’s effort for her.

It wasn’t like you told her any of that; not even you knew how important Wanda had been to every single thing you did until you were broken up.

When Wanda finally arrived, she burst through the theatre doors, heels in hand. She looked like she’d been running, as she was out of breath and a bit dazed as she looked around at the empty theatre.

And the soft flush of her cheeks and the mess of her hair.

She was drunk too.

You were packing up the last of the props into boxes on your own when Wanda stepped up to the stage and looked for someone.

“Is… Did I miss it?” she asked, slowly catching her breath.

“Guess,” was all you could manage to force out from the bitter feeling that squeezed the air out of your lungs.

She caught sight of the props you were putting away; some of them were things she could recall making with you. She remembered helping you hot glue some of them together and pick out the paint and cut up the little details.

She felt terrible.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” she apologised. “I lost track of time. Really, I did. I didn’t mean to miss your play. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t mean to, but you should’ve cared about it enough that coming to see something important to me wasn’t an extra effort to you.”

You closed the stage curtains and stepped down from the staircase leading out to the side where the door to the theatre was, and Wanda followed behind you.

You placed the prop box down by the foot of the staircase.

“I know you were busy, but I just thought you’d prioritise your own girlfriend over some stupid sorority,” you muttered.

The anger was well-founded, yet the way you insulted Wanda’s interests wasn’t. But you were so upset and jealous and you felt so belittled.

Maybe she felt the same way too, because Wanda quickly countered, “You don’t have to make me feel bad about it. I just apologised. And besides, it’s not like you had anything that important going on here.”

Your face contorted and you turned to look at her.

“What?” you asked.

Although seemingly hesitant for a moment, the drinks Wanda had earlier catapulted her emotions forward and in the moment, she’d say anything to get a reaction from you just to make herself feel better about what she did.

“You wouldn’t know what it’s like to have something important happen to you, Y/N, because you always give me shit for pursuing the things I care about,” she argued.

With a disbelieving scoff, you replied, “I ‘give you shit’ sometimes because I want you here with me. I wanted you here! And I’ve always understood when you had other things to do.”

“You would want that, because you have nothing going on without me anyways.”

Sensing criticism in her tone, you questioned, “What does that mean?”

“It means that you could never understand having real things matter to you, because all you have is this idiotic nerdy theatre shit and nothing else important, so you leech off of me to make yourself feel better for at least having someone who’s actually doing something with their lives close to you.”

Wanda didn’t know why she said that, and even in the moment she hated the taste of her words as she spat them out. But she said them, still.

She loved how nerdy and creative and hardworking you were. She adored you so much — looked up to you.

Hours she’d spent listening to you talk about how much you loved theatre and watching performances with you online. She loved the part of you that loved theatre and film and art; she thought it was endearing and adorable, and it made you the most creative and sensitive person she knew.

The argument pressed on, both of you fueled by the insecurity of not being prioritised by the person you loved. Perhaps all either of you needed was to confess that you really did care about the other, for in your own ways, it felt to both of you that it had become lost somewhere along the line.

Wanda felt criticised and betrayed that you would look down on her, that you saw yourself as so different from her. The entire sorority paled in comparison to you, but the feeling that you thought you were truly that different from her, that someone else would be better for you instead, made Wanda say just about anything to get some sort of emotion out of you.

In a way you felt the same, constantly feeling that Wanda prioritised things more than she did you. You were patient and understanding with her and your love for her remained in the face of her distance, but where did that get you if she didn’t care about you anyway?

In the heat of the moment, someone accidentally nudged the prop box and made everything in it drop and clatter to the ground.

The loud noise of broken props you and Wanda had spent countless nights working on together put an abrupt stop to the argument.

There was a particular prop that tumbled out of the box and broke, a small chalice that took hours to design to make it as historically accurate as possible for the play, put together by an actual blacksmith that Wanda knew, and intricately decorated by the both of you afterwards over Indian takeout and the span of two movies.

Wanda felt so terrible looking at it, and how its base was bent and its handle broken off.

“I think I’m done,” you said suddenly and started getting your things from a small closet beside the exit. “I think we’re done.”

It took a few moments for Wanda to process your words, blinking in the face of watching you begin to pack up and leave her. Then she managed to utter, “What?”

“We should break up before the school year ends. Let’s stop pretending this is gonna work out, okay? Just focus on our own stuff while we can.”

Wanda scoffed out a nervous laugh and she approached you, stepping over the broken props. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re not breaking up because of… of this. Y/N. Come on.”

“Why not?” you asked and zipped your jacket up. “Be honest with yourself and try to tell me that you see this working out any better than it already has been.”

If Wanda were more sober and less overwhelmed, she would’ve told you just that, because she loved you and she knew she could give you what you needed — what you deserved.

She would gladly apologise for what she did and how she’d been treating you, and she’d be honest about how she’d been feeling too.

And if you were thinking properly, not acting rashly, not too emotionally, you would’ve taken a step back and realised how much Wanda did love you.

Maybe you still would’ve wanted more of her — more of her attention, more of her affection — but you would’ve told her that too, and Wanda would’ve felt like the most important person in the world for being wanted so much by you.

But none of that happened.

Instead, Wanda began pleading, “Please don’t leave me. Y/N… No one really likes me but you. You know that. No one knows me, really. You’re all I have.”

“You have your sorority,” you muttered and pulled your hat on.

Wanda started to cry then, almost immediately brought to tears by the suggestion that her sorority could mean anything to her like you do.

Was she so terrible that she'd led you to believe that was even possible?

“I don’t care about them like that, and they don’t even really like me. They don’t like anyone,” Wanda insisted tearily. “But you like me. I know you do.”

She wrapped her fingers around your hand and tried to hold it.

“Please don’t leave,” she begged.

Recalling it now made you feel like the worst person in the world — truly.

In spite of the situation and what happened, Wanda really had been trying. She was crying in front of you and begging you to see that your relationship was stronger than you thought it was, and that she cared about you more than you realised.

And all you could do was be bitter and cold and look away from her, pull your hand away when she held it and turn your back to her weeping.

What were you protecting back then?

Your ego?

Back then you wondered if it was a worthy trade-off, and today while you drove back home from Wanda’s house, you wondered the same.

In the morning you continued to think about Wanda, and for an inexplicable reason, even checked your phone for a message from her.

It’d been a while since you did that.

But you didn’t hear from Wanda until Monday when she picked the boys up from school, and by then you’d been thinking a lot about change and the breakup and if it was possible to be normal with each other again.

“I wanted to… to apologise. For dinner on Saturday,” Wanda said to you the moment she stepped down from her car, walking up to you waiting by the front door of the school. She was bold about it, didn’t hesitate before apologising for something you weren’t sure needed apologising for.

“What are you apologising for?” you asked curiously, looking between her and the children being picked up by their parents.

You doubted that Wanda knew her husband tried to get your number, but you were almost sure that she at least knew about the infidelity.

Had she really settled for someone like that?

Victor was who Wanda started going out with after you broke up, and it bewildered you that she was still with him.

Didn’t she at least once think that she could do better?

She indeed knew about the infidelity — she’d known since college. But what was she meant to do about it? She’d begged him for normalcy and to upkeep appearances for Billy and Tommy, but she couldn’t beg for him to love her like a husband did his wife.

Nor could he.

Wanda spun her wedding ring around her finger anxiously. “I just felt that things might’ve been uncomfortable for you, and I would never want to make you feel that way. That wasn’t my intention at all.”

It felt like she was talking a lot faster than you could catch up with.

“I-I can get ahead of myself sometimes, and if I said anything to make you feel… uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

The sight reminded you all too well of that evening in the theatre — Wanda’s nervous fidgeting and her apologetic tone, and most of all, the pleading to keep you close.

It was different now, of course, because it was in a different context. But it was the same, really.

It was always Wanda begging you to stay with her.

“It’s… alright. You’ve done nothing to make me uncomfortable,” you reassured, and Wanda smiled.

Then you scratched at the back of your neck and looked away awkwardly before saying, “Listen, it’s kind of stupid, but I have, um…”

You hesitated to say it because of the subject matter, but Wanda was patient and so understanding as she regarded you with such kind eyes as she waited for you to continue.

For the first time you noticed how a part of Wanda had aged — changed, even. She looked older in the way she looked at you, the innocent levity ever present but now wrapped in the years that have passed and the maturity that came with it.

Wanda reached out a little and brushed the pad of her thumb across your knuckles softly, reminding you that it was okay to say to her what you wanted.

She did change — but not all of her.

Though you’d been so adamant about wanting her to be different from college, you found that you really enjoyed knowing some parts of her were exactly the same.

The parts you loved.

And the parts of her that were different you wanted to get to know too.

You’ve seen how hard she was trying with you, and you were finally determined to do the same for her.

“I have some play going on this weekend. I helped put it together with a few theatre friends from college,” you said finally. “So, if you wanna come, I can get some tickets for you and Victor.”

Wanda’s interest was immediately piqued and she straightened, her eyebrows raising as her lips parted to accept the offer.

But you added hurriedly, “But you really don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I know it’s not really your thing.”

“N-No! I’d really love to go,” Wanda insisted with a reassuring nod. “Would it be alright if I just went on my own?”

Imagining Wanda going alone to one of your plays made the offer a lot more intimate than you initially planned it to be, and the ease at which she suggested it made your breath catch in your throat.

Wanda took it as she was being too forward and she immediately began explaining, “It’s just that Victor gets impatient with those sorts of things and I wouldn’t want to have you waste a ticket.”

“Yeah, I get it. Totally,” you replied and cleared your throat. “Yeah, sure. Just you. I’ll text you an entry ticket and they’ll just scan the barcode on it before you go in.”

“Okay,” she said with a reaffirming nod and a wide smile. “So, this weekend? When, Saturday?”

You corrected, “Sunday. At eight.”

“I’ll save the date,” Wanda said, practically beaming. She couldn’t believe how lucky she’d gotten.

Maybe she hadn’t been as unfortunate with her attempts as she felt she’d been.

Was it apologising for dinner that got her an invite to your play? Or did the twins win all your affection for her?

Or maybe you just blurted out the invitation without really thinking it through, and you regretted it the moment it came out of your mouth.

If that was the truth, Wanda would try her hardest to make sure you’d end up enjoying having invited her. She’d be what you deserved eight years ago, and she’d show you that she still could be what you deserved now.

After that, she wasn’t sure what would happen; expecting anything more than your forgiveness would be selfish.

Almost every day until Sunday came, Wanda sorted through her closet and her jewellery box to put together an outfit for you. She’d be wearing it and it was ultimately up to her whether she wore it, but it was for you.

As she picked out a cream knit sweater and a floor-length black skirt, she thought about how you’d like her outfit and also wondered what you might think of the perfume she chose too.

When it was the evening of the play, Wanda put her hair back into a French twist — this she did with the intention of not seeming too much like how she looked in college, as never she wore her hair up in something so formal back then.

Wanda laid the dolphin earrings in her palm and surveyed it as she wondered whether it would be okay to wear it tonight. She worried about making too big of a gesture where it wasn’t appropriate, but there was a chance you wouldn’t notice she was wearing them at all.

After several moments of deep consideration, she took off her pearl earrings and put on the ones with the small silver dolphins hanging from them.

You swore you hadn’t been this nervous leading up to the play’s first performance until tonight. You’d worked on plenty since college and it wasn’t like this was anything like your first project since graduation.

Why were you so nervous?

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you took it out to silence your notifications until you read the text message.

It was Wanda, and she messaged: I got a spot in the front row! I’m excited!

When you stepped out from backstage and stood beside the edge of the curtains to be able to get a little glimpse into the crowd, you looked for her, eyes sorting through the front row of the audience.

In the midst of the soft buzzing from the crowd’s chatter and an audience of nearly three-hundred people, you saw Wanda sitting in the front where she said she was. She wasn’t with Victor or the twins; she came alone like she said she would, even though you ended up sending her three extra tickets in case she changed her mind.

The very sight of her made you ache, a thrumming longing beating at your sternum as you watched her look around at the theatre and adjust her skirt.

Quickly, before the performance started, you messaged back, I see you. You look great.

You wished so badly to have been able to see her face when she read the text, but you were pulled over to help with the lighting last minute.

When the curtains finally opened, you checked your phone one more time and saw Wanda’s message: Thank you. :)

The theatre lights dimmed and lights from the stage turned on and your position at the far-left of the curtains allowed you to see her much clearer — like you’d wanted to do years ago.

You paid little attention to what was going on during the performance, though you miraculously kept enough focus to be able to do things like help keep the performers on time with their costume changes. But mostly you were watching Wanda.

In a theatre full of hundreds of people, she was your only audience.

During pauses in the script where the theatre was full of only silence, you could hear the pulsing of your heart and for a moment forgot it’d ever done anything but beat only while you watched how pretty Wanda looked in the pale light of the theatre’s stage.

When the play came to a finish and the curtains closed, the crew and performers gave their thanks to the audience before the theatre lights were turned back on and some of the crew and performers lined up by the door to thank people as they filed out of the theatre.

The line shorted gradually and the crowd of people made it so that you couldn’t spot Wanda, and though you’d completely understand if she already left — after all, she didn’t need to stay to do anything else — a part of you hoped she stuck around a little.

But not for any particular reason, for you didn’t even know what you’d say to her if she did; you just wanted to see her wait for you.

“Hi,” a soft voice greeted, and you turned your head away from the theatre doors to the woman in front of you.

Wanda.

The sight of her made you rather nervous, and you realised you’d been worrying a lot about whether she’d enjoy the play.

Your only audience.

It was her opinion you cared about the most.

With a smile that made her own widen at the sight, you replied, “Hi.”

“I really liked it,” she told you. “The performers were incredible.”

“I’m… I’m really happy you liked it,” you said, internally feeling pretty relieved. “Yeah, they’re super talented. We had to move around a few dates, actually, so they’d be able to perform for us.”

“And the script…” Wanda said, something brief and unsaid exchanged between the two of you as you looked at each other. But the question that was implied wasn’t answered when she added, “The script was wonderful too.”

Someone approached from behind and waited around Wanda to be able to talk with you, so she uttered, “I should leave. Thank you for inviting me. I really loved being able to watch.”

You nodded once and smiled cordially at her, but the sight of her turning and heading for the theatre doors reminded you all too well of something similar from years ago and you reached out suddenly and took her hand. She stopped and looked down at your hand wrapped around hers.

Her fingers twitched before she looked up at you.

“Stay,” you said and took a breath. “Until I’m done here.”

An unusual feeling began to grow within her as she ran her eyes over your face, seeing the hesitancy that seemed to make the corner of your mouth twitch as you anticipated her response and the look in your eyes that meant something she couldn’t interpret.

Her throat tightened and Wanda had to swallow to ease the tension there so she could reply to you.

“Okay,” she replied, hoping you didn’t hear the way her breath caught in her throat when your fingers tightened around her hand. “I’ll wait in the hall.”

Was she stuttering when she answered? She couldn’t tell.

She focused only on keeping her legs steady as she moved one foot in front of the other, her thumb rubbing at the heel of her hand as the feeling of your fingers running down her palm when you let go of her hand lingered even when the doors closed behind her.

Minutes felt like seconds in that hallway where Wanda waited for you. It felt like time simply ceased to exist there when her mind ran rampant with what it might’ve meant that you invited her to see your play and asked her to wait for you.

She wondered if things would’ve gone just like this if she had come to your play like she promised eight years ago.

The theatre lights turned off and you stepped into the hallway once the doors opened, exchanging a smile with Wanda who straightened from the adjacent wall and stepped towards you.

“Thanks for waiting,” you said gratefully. “Sorry for taking so long. There was a problem with the lighting again.”

“It’s totally okay. I didn’t wait long at all,” Wanda reassured. Then she said, “You’ve always been such a talented scriptwriter. I’m glad I got a front row seat to your play.”

Her words made you flush and the way she looked at you with such innocent and sincere optimism in her eyes that presently glistened with the dim light of the hallway made you stutter until you were finally able to thank her.

You cleared your throat and said, “You really do look great tonight, by the way. I mean, a lot better now because I can see you more clearly. Compared to before, like, behind a curtain.”

That made Wanda laugh and she nodded. “I get it. Thank you,” she replied. She was glad that you liked how she looked. She wore it all for you, after all.

Really, neither of you knew what you were expecting when you made time for each other alone. You didn’t know what you had wanted when you asked Wanda to stay, and she didn’t know what she’d been hoping to get out trying her hardest to be friendly with you again.

“Did you drive yourself here?” asked Wanda.

“No, I got a ride from one of my friends. He had to drop something off at his place, so he’ll come back to get me. His car couldn’t fit me in there with the set stuff.”

Immediately, Wanda offered, “I can drive you home. You don’t have to wait for your friend.”

“Really? You don’t have to. I don’t wanna bother you.”

“It’s not a bother at all. Tommy and Billy are out of town visiting Victor’s parents, so I don’t have to be home early to make them dinner or anything.”

Things seemed to be going well — really well. But you still weren’t sure what you wanted from all this.

Maybe there wasn’t anything to want.

Maybe you and Wanda would just end up being casual friends who went out for lunch sometimes when she was free or went with her to her pilates classes when she could bring a friend.

That was kind of amusing; you couldn’t ever imagine someone like her being a casual anything in your life.

Knowing Wanda would never be something casual.

“Would you mind if we stopped at my place before I drop you off? I have something I’d like to give you,” Wanda told you as she buckled her seatbelt then started the car.

With a piqued interest, you asked, “What kinda thing?”

“A surprise,” she teased and grinned at you.

That made you feel all warm. It reminded you a lot of how you remembered her when you used to go out. She was such a tease back then.

Seeing her behave in some ways like how you remembered her but now dressed in expensive jewellery and clothes with shorter hair and a more mature face made her teasing even more endearing.

She talked a little about the twins and how their birthday party went, all the while you were watching how the streetlights casted on her face. Her face had become less round over the years and the pale lights from the street she drove down made the angle of her cheekbones cast a particularly sharp shadow along her face, making her face look sculpted, but by hand, like a Grecian statue.

Her nose was the same.

Her eyes crinkled at the sides when she smiled over at you after perhaps noticing you watching her. That was different from when you were together — the way she smiled — and you liked that a lot. So you didn’t care that she caught you.

If you had looked away, you wouldn’t have seen how she looked when she smiled at you.

“Come in and wait in the den,” she told you when you arrived before leading you into the house. She set her purse down beside your things on the couch then started the fireplace. “I’ll just be a second. I have to get it for you upstairs.”

Somehow the room looked different now knowing it was only Wanda at home.

You looked at the picture you had been staring at the last time you were here, and even that looked different too. You’d noticed how Wanda was hugging you when you last saw the picture, but now you couldn’t stop looking away from her.

And how happy she looked with you.

Wanda came down from upstairs and you could see her holding something for the fireplace reflected off of what looked like metal.

When she stepped into the den, you could see she was holding some kind of prop.

It was the chalice the two of you worked on years ago that broke.

“Oh my god. You still have this?” you mused and carefully took it with both hands when she handed it to you.

Wanda’s cheeks flushed and she played with her wedding ring. “It’s all fixed up now,” she said. “I was really careful with it. You should take it.”

“No,” you immediately contested. “It isn’t right for me to take it from you after you’ve taken such good care of it.”

“It’s still yours. It was for your play. Please take it.”

You looked down at it, turning it carefully in your hands and reading in all the details of the prop the late nights you spent with Wanda making it as if the very metal and its details had words written on them. You wondered what she must’ve thought every time she saw it over the last eight years.

It belonged to the both of you if anything.

When you set the chalice down by your things, Wanda quietly asked, “Y/N… Was tonight the play you wrote for me in college?”

You blinked and were taken by surprise. You started writing a script for Wanda so you could have it finished by the middle of February, but you ended up breaking up before her birthday, and you never had the chance to give it to her.

Initially when you first met Wanda again last month, you thought it was by complete coincidence that you had also just found the drafted script from years ago and had just decided to finally make it into a show.

But maybe you truly had been thinking of her a lot more over the years than you originally thought you did.

“How did you know that?” you asked.

She confessed, “I read a few pages of it back then.”

“When I…”

“When you told me not to,” she confirmed. “But I was curious, and… Well, that was the play, wasn’t it?”

You nodded, and she couldn’t help but giggle.

“You wrote a play for me,” she said, teasing you.

Without taking your eyes away from her for a second, you smiled and repeated, “I wrote a play for you.”

At first your sincerity made Wanda swoon and her teasing demeanour melted into a warm flattered mess before guilt overtook her at the sight of how you looked at her.

You looked at her with so much admiration.

Wanda swallowed and quietly said, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“You apologise a lot.”

“I know, but–” She cut herself off and seemed to be recollecting things internally before she began again. She struggled with maintaining eye contact but she tried anyway, and you wondered what was so important that she had to try this hard to communicate it.

She said, “I should’ve gone to your play in college.”

You tried to interrupt her before she could apologise for something that happened so long ago, but she wouldn’t let you interject.

“It was important to you and I should’ve gone like I promised I would. I prioritised other stupid, meaningless things over you, and I’m sorry. I should’ve…”

She finally broke eye contact and looked down at the floor, pressing her fingers against her palm anxiously.

You weren’t sure if you should try interrupting her again until the light from the fireplace reflected against the silver of her earrings.

You reached out and laid the earring against the pad of your index finger so you could get a better look at it and Wanda looked up from the floor and ran her eyes over your face.

“Dolphins,” you said.

It was then that Wanda realised the feeling that had been planted deep within her the second you took her hand in the theatre, then blossomed rapidly until this very moment.

She was falling in love with you again.

Her eyes moved over your shoulder to the photo of the two of you from years ago, framed and showcased right on the mantle where she could see it.

She recalled how her eyes always found their way over to the photo whenever she passed the fireplace, even when she hadn’t any idea if she’d ever see you again.

The box stored in her closet of all the things that reminded her of you from when the two of you were dating years ago came to mind too.

She wasn’t falling in love with you again — no.

Wanda had always been in love with you.

“I bought them to wear for you,” she confessed, stepping closer to you so your knuckle accidentally ghosted against her cheek.

Your eyes left the earrings to meet hers. “They’re pretty,” you said.

“If only I’d have kept my promise,” Wanda whispered, “things would’ve been different.”

You ached as you realised how much guilt must’ve been on her shoulders the last eight years, how quick and easy it was for her to blame herself for what happened.

“Wanda, our breakup wasn’t your fault,” you told her. “I made mistakes too.”

She immediately shook her head and looked away from you.

“No, you didn’t.”

You insisted, “Yes.”

“It was my fault that–”

You had to cup Wanda’s cheek with your hand to make her look at you again and stop talking. She shut her mouth and looked at you, and that was when you sternly said, “It was my fault too.”

She began to tear up and you carefully swiped the tears from her eyes with your thumbs.

“I don’t care how things would’ve been,” you said. “All I care about is what it is now — what we are now.”

Wanda took in a shaky breath and quietly asked, “What are we now…?”

Your eyes fell to her lips and Wanda was too distracted by how you looked and how good you smelled and how warm your hand was on your cheek to notice you were leaning in for a kiss until your lips were pressed against hers.

She’d forgotten how good those could feel.

But she never forgot how yours felt.

Her arms raised and she wrapped them around your neck so you couldn’t back up from her too far when you parted from the kiss.

“I could… I could do right by you this time,” Wanda found herself promising the moment you pulled away enough so she could look into your eyes.

What was she saying?

“I could treat you right this time around too,” you vowed.

What on earth were either of you saying?

“Is that okay?” you whispered.

Wanda didn’t wait a moment before replying, “That’s okay. That’s… really, really okay.”

She leaned in and kissed you again, feeling you smiling against her own grinning lips.

──────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ────────

Until she filed for divorce from her husband, all Wanda Maximoff has known how to do is compromise, because until then, she never imagined a future wherein she could be any more than someone who lived in her husband’s shadows and never pursued the things she loved.

That night of your play changed so much for her.

It was painful to have to say goodnight to you and eventually have to drive you back home for her husband would eventually come back later that evening, but all Wanda could think about when she was in bed was how much things could change.

She thought about the kinds of futures she could have with you and the twins, the kinds of lives you could lead and the things she could do with herself.

But there was one thing she had to do before she could have any of that, and she wasn’t willing to wait and sit still anymore; when she turned to look at Victor sleeping beside her, Wanda knew she had to file for divorce.

It wasn’t that the filing was so uncalled for at all, and it was easy to build a case against him.

The infidelity on Victor’s part and arguments that they sometimes failed to keep quiet from Tommy and Billy and dozens of other issues had built up to the point where Wanda’s lawyer confessed to her upfront that she was surprised she hadn’t filed for divorce much earlier.

They were trying to keep it as delicate as possible for the twins were still young, and in spite of their differences, neither their mother nor their father wanted to subject them to the complications that parents went through during a divorce.

Wanda rented her own apartment large and comfortable enough for both her and the twins, and you when you stayed over.

You slept in Wanda’s bedroom, naturally. Though it still made you giddy recalling the mornings and nights you spent together in the same bed, in the same apartment.

Despite the relatively smooth move, Victor was still a very rich and power-hungry man, and he hadn’t been making the divorce process easy for Wanda. Oftentimes she was tired and drained, but also so impassioned.

It’d been a long time since she stood up for herself and what she wanted, and really, it was also first time she’d ever stood up to him.

“He wants to have them five days a week, each week,” Wanda told you presently, scoffing.

You leaned against the table and watched her as she worked.

“What’s his lawyer saying?”

“I don’t care what that asshole is saying. I’m not compromising, Y/N,” she said sternly. “I’m not settling for two fucking days a week with my children.”

Rounding the table, you wrapped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her against you. “That’s my girl. That’s good,” you praised and shook her around a little, making her stifle a laugh as she looked up and smiled at you.

You kissed her temple and told her, “It’ll work out, Wands. Be strong.”

“Is everyone ready for the picture?” a voice called from the front of the stage.

It was the start of a new season at the theatre and it was tradition for your company to take a photo of all of the crew during the very early days of production development.

“Oh, hurry, hurry!” you hissed and took the pencil out of your girlfriend's hand.

Wanda tried to protest, “Y/N–”

“Finish the costume design later. Come on. Come on, come on, let’s go!”

You took her hand and pulled her to the stage where the rest of the crew was getting together for the photo, the camerawoman standing by the edge with her camera ready.

Your arm wrapped around Wanda’s hips and she wrapped both of hers around your shoulders, squeezing each other tight and smiling widely together as the photo of the entire production crew was taken.

You asked, “Wanna see it?”

“Very much,” she replied.

You rounded the camera together and Darcy approached Wanda.

“Wanda. Hey,” she greeted.

“Hi,” replied Wanda with a smile and she turned to face the young woman.

“When you write the article for the newsletter, could you mention that we’re looking for backup dancers?” she asked. “There’s, like, several big musical numbers in this one and we were pretty understaffed for the last show.”

You frowned and looked over at her. “Okay, not ‘pretty understaffed,’” you corrected. “Moderately understaffed.”

While ignoring your lighthearted offence because you’d been the primary one in charge of performer recruitment for the last play, Wanda answered with a reassuring smile, “I’ll add it.”

“Thank you,” Darcy said with a relieved exhale.

When you turned around to look at the camera for the photo, Darcy mouthed at Wanda before leaving for backstage again, ‘Very understaffed.’

“Wanda, this is gonna look really great on the mantle,” you told her, turning the camera around so she could see the picture.

“Framed and right under the television in the living room,” she affirmed.

Wanda still had the picture of the two of you with her sorority, though now it was stored away in the box with all her other keepsakes from you.

It was always a symbol of the past, a reminder to her of a love she couldn’t ever get back. But now that things were different, Wanda didn’t need to think about anything but her future wherein you and the twins were always in it, no matter how many different lives she imagined for herself.

So there was a new framed picture put up where everyone in her apartment living room could see it — a photo of the theatre crew and you and Wanda right in the middle in the front row, smiling widely in each other’s arms with her cheek pressed against yours.

#wanda maximoff x reader

2K notes · View notes

munariplans · 4 months

Note

hi there! Would you ever consider writing an AU where R gets with Maria, and another one where she chooses Wanda and how it pans out for them?

hi, personally i can make anything happen, but it depends on the general consensus of you guys and whether you feel it’s appropriate or interesting to go down the other path!

feel free to let me know your thoughts on this as well

#natasha romanoff x spidey!reader #is there someone else #natasha romanoff x reader

5 notes · View notes

munariplans · 4 months

Text

[angry natasha storming down the hallway]

tony: uh oh.

reader: what?

tony: i see an angry wife heading our way.

reader: yours or mine?

tony: does it matter?

reader: if it's yours, there's a chance we'll live, but if it's mine, we're dead.

2K notes · View notes

munariplans · 4 months

Text

a second chance | natasha r.

synopsis: in which natasha is given a second chance; a chance encounter with clint's children that sparks her wish to start a family with you.

natasha romanoff x spidey! reader

word count: 4k words

a/n: welcome to my last fic of 2023! thank you all for spending this wonderful year with me, and i wish for a happy, safe year for all of you in 2024. of course, to end off the year, we go back to our favourite spidey!reader and natasha duo. in other words, this fic was the conversation and experience that led up to is there someone else? enjoy x

masterlist

natasha romanoff liked to claim that she wasn’t good with children; she didn’t like them, they didn’t like her, and she did not have the faintest idea of how to take care of one, not to even mention having them in her life. once, the team had rescued a stranded child from the rubble of an explosion, and when steve asked if anyone was willing to look after her until emergency services arrived, natasha ducked to your side when his eyes landed on her, reluctantly shaking her head as the child looked to her curiously.

but as her wife, you were amazing with children. and in that instance, seeing the exasperated looks on the others’ faces, and the frantic one on natasha’s, you had bravely stepped up to take the child from steve, being careful not to stand too close to natasha in case she freaked out.

she watched as you sat the child on your lap, taking off your mask and letting her see your face. she smiled when you did, wiping off the blood and soot from her face as comfortingly as you could. you held her hand as you rocked her gently, trying to help her forget about the broken arm you were supporting with your other hand. there were no words exchanged between you and the child, she hadn’t cried at all, and for some reason, she looked almost calmer with you. but natasha knew you were a comforting presence in anyone’s life, not just hers, so it was only natural that the child wasn’t freaking out from her injuries in front of you. it also helped that you had let her put on your mask then, you cooing as you reminded her just how brave she was.

natasha didn’t have good memories of children from the red room; she had spent far too many years suppressing the harrowing scenes of girls younger than her getting tortured and trained to be widows. she never knew children who were happy, or had good childhoods that allowed them to be free – hell, even she didn’t have that when she was a child.

but seeing you so relaxed, and natural, with the child, tugged at her heartstrings more than it should. you were everything she never was, and each time natasha thought there were reasons that you were too good for her, you somehow manage to convince her there were a million more of why she wasn’t worthy of being married to someone so wonderful.

she allowed herself to slowly approach you. and while you picked up that she was hesitant, you let her gather her own courage, and as she stood in front of you and the child, you leaned in and whispered, “that’s aunty natasha. she was the one who found you, you know? alerted me and uncle bruce over there, to help pull you out. she’s so pretty, and incredible, isn’t she?”

natasha wasn’t sure the girl even understood what you were saying, but the small smile that the child offered, and her eyes looking up at natasha’s own, had the woman transfixed. she didn’t know what to do, but you patted the spot beside you, and gestured for her to sit.

“do you want to say hi?” you asked natasha, to which she nodded.

“hi, i’m…natasha,” she said to the child, but she had returned to playing with your mask. it was almost as if the child hadn’t noticed her at all; not the people she had murdered in this mission to save her, not the souls she tortured to get information out of, not even all that she had done in the red room to get to where she was today. she had seen natasha as she was; a woman who had saved her from the rubble, and returned to her newfound obsession over the piece of cloth. she was a child, seeing natasha as a person, which somehow was hard for her to digest.

you let the girl keep your mask as emergency services arrived a few minutes later, holding natasha by your side as they shut the doors to the ambulance, mouthing you’re so brave even as the paramedics began assessing her. natasha was transfixed at the child grinning back at not just you, but her too. her grin had been toothy, and real.

“you’re incredible,” your wife would comment later on, to which you shrugged.

“the little girl was an angel,” you said, then, noticing her hesitation, you leaned in to kiss her forehead, “and you were amazing. she liked you, i just knew it.”

“you really think so?” natasha’s voice suddenly turned insecure, but hopeful.

you nodded against her skin. “i know so.”

–

the next time natasha had an encounter with a child, it was on a whole other level that she was unprepared for, and hesitant of. but she didn’t really have a choice this time.

laura had run into some complications with her pregnancy with nathaniel, and clint was lost, and exasperated, of what to do. he needed to be by his wife’s side, but his two young children needed him too. and because of the urgency of the situation, he didn’t have enough time to hire a babysitter on such short notice.

you caught him mid-meltdown in the common room, but the rest of the team were preparing to go on missions and didn’t have proper spaces to care for the kids for a few days. natasha was beside you then; the both of you had returned from a date in the park, and you knew she was as concerned for him just as you were.

but you weren’t about to suggest taking the kids in just right there; natasha lived with you too, and if she wasn’t comfortable with suddenly having cooper and lila intrude into her living space, especially with her reservations about children, you knew it wasn’t something you could do without running by her.

you fished out your phone, remarking to natasha, “i should call a few of my friends, see if they can take the two in for a few nights.”

but natasha hadn’t let go of your hand. she was still frowning at clint’s state, trying desperately to beg his wife that he would be there in a few hours, and struggling to think about how he was going to juggle the kids and her. he was at his wits’ end, and natasha hated seeing her friend like this.

suddenly, you felt her grip onto your coat, whispering lowly, “...why don’t we take them in?”

you looked away from your phone for a minute, still reeling in what your wife just said. natasha had told you, when you were still friends even, of just her reservations around children, and how much she didn’t want them even if she had the chance, so you understood. you understood, and respected her wishes, and although she knew you loved kids, you never pushed her on the subject further. you were always supportive and respectful of why she didn’t want them and couldn’t be with them.

you almost couldn’t believe your ears. “what?”

“we take them in, just for a few nights. cooper and lila.” she tried to say nonchalantly, but you knew it was taking all of her willpower to even utter it to you.

“are you sure?”

“clint’s in so much distress. our next mission hasn’t been assigned, and we can’t possibly not help him…as his friends.”

“but nat, if you’re not comfortable around them, we don’t have to, you know? i know…you have your reservations.”

but she held your hand, firmly, this time. “i know. but we can’t not help clint when he needs us. unless…you don’t want to?”

you shook your head, “of course i want to. i was just…i was afraid you didn’t, so i didn’t offer.”

“well,” she gave a small smile, “there’s a first for everything.”

clint hugged the both of you like a grizzly bear as words of appreciation tumbled out of his mouth when you told him of the offer. natasha thought he looked like he was going to cry.

–

while cooper was considerably an older toddler, baby lila was only about a year old. natasha remembered their birthdays. she remembered laura had been pregnant when you and clint first rescued her, which explained a lot of his agitation and desperation to return home safely.

you walked in the door first, holding lila as she slept in your arms, while cooper was holding the ends of natasha’s jacket when he followed her in. she had stiffened when he first held her hand, and she cringed when he noticed; putting his hand on her jacket instead. you reassured her it was fine, and that if he hadn’t made a big deal out of it, she shouldn’t overthink it either.

it was almost dinner time when the four of you arrived in yours and natasha’s apartment. the two of you had spent the better part of the morning and afternoon baby-proofing the place before picking them up. natasha had never known so many parts of the house had been so hazardous to baby lila, as she carefully checked and rechecked the apartment’s hazards. you watched her lovingly throughout her doing so, and getting yelled at by her when she found you accidentally leaving a power socket unplugged.

“what should we have for dinner?” natasha asked, to which you pulled up a list of recipes laura usually made for them. natasha took one look at them, and turned her nose, “those sound gross.”

you laughed, but began gathering ingredients anyway. “well, it’s what those two would have wanted.”

“how about we just order a pizza instead?” natasha quipped, to cooper’s delight. he had overheard the conversation, and began chanting pizza, pizza, pizza immediately after.

you shared a glance with natasha, before telling him, “oh, your mommy said we can’t have–”

“–pizza, pizza pizza!” natasha suddenly joined in, standing beside him as the both of them gave you pouts and puppy dog eyes, and you knew you were at a losing end for this one.

you ordered the pizza, and whispered to natasha later, when cooper was out of earshot, “you are such an enabler.”

“i give the kids what they want.”

you had to remind cooper very carefully to not tell clint and laura of just what he had been eating at your place when they got back. he only half-listened, busy tucking into the pieces of pizza natasha had carefully cut into equal, smaller squares for him.

–

natasha stood by the bathroom door as you gave cooper his bath later on, cursing internally to yourself as he continually splashed you with the soapy bathwater. she laughed along with him as you blew shampoo out of your mouth for the fourth time in the span of ten minutes.

“cooper, i will summon a giant shark to bite your soapy fins if you splash me one more time!” you had threatened, but the boy, upon seeing natasha’s giant grin behind him, had only laughed and splashed you once again.

you shot a glare to natasha, but she only shrugged and gave you an amused smirk. she was so thankful that she had peeped in to see just how you were doing, despite being hesitant of giving the kids baths at first.

you had assured her that it was fine, and that you didn’t want to overstep her boundaries, but natasha was struck with a curiosity and eagerness to know just how it would go. you certainly didn’t complain.

seeing just how much fun you had with cooper, she volunteered to help with lila’s bath later on, much to your relief. you carefully taught her how to bathe the baby then, ensuring her head never dipped too deep into the water, and natasha held the girl with the fragility and care that she had for the tesseract back then. you found it difficult to stay irritated at her for long, not when she was so earnest in trying to not be stiff, and as natural as possible, bathing little lila.

you thought she got just the reward for her efforts as the baby laughed at her antics, awarding her with a wide smile and minimal reluctance in being dressed for bed later on.

–

the next morning, when natasha opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was that the space next to her was empty. she let her hand roam over the cold sheets, and groaned when she realised that she had slept in. you were already busy with the kids downstairs.

rubbing her eyes and making her way down, she finally spotted you in the kitchen with clint’s children. you had pulled up a chair for cooper to stand beside you, and lila was rested on your hips while you carried her. you were busy instructing the boy to carefully ladle pancake mixture onto the stove.

“okay, careful, steady, now. don’t ladle too much, or the inside’s going to be uncooked,” you held his hand as he poured the mixture in, giggling at the consistency and sight of the pancakes. natasha knew clint would have never allowed his kids near the stove.

cooper watched intently as you flipped the pancakes for him a few minutes later, pointing to his baby sister at the magnificent contraption that was a frying pan. lila had her mouth agape watching your antics. the baby looked absolutely enamoured by you. from above, natasha supposed she wasn’t so different.

she wrapped her arms around you as she approached, and you greeted her good morning with a kiss. she would never tire of the feeling of your lips against hers.

the four of you sat down for breakfast later on, and in the belief of her abilities and newfound adoration for the child, natasha volunteered to sit beside lila to feed her. the girl was more than happy to slam her hands on the baby chair and squash and smash the pancakes with her grubby fingers. you and natasha exchanged laughs watching her so.

“she’s really so cute, isn’t she?” you remarked. natasha nodded, feeding the girl some of her porridge.

“they’re both so cute. angels.”

you watched her patiently wait for lila to open her mouth, instructing her to sip the porridge slowly, and you thought she looked almost like a natural. in the oversized shirt that was yours, her hair tied up in a bun, face free of makeup, natasha looked so beautiful feeding the child. naturally so, like the role was made just for her.

you couldn’t help taking out your phone, and snapping a quick photo of her and lila then. you could almost kiss the screen with how lovely she looked.

–

“go and have some me-time for a bit, i’ll take the kids for a grocery run,” you mentioned to natasha later that day, as the both of you cleaned up while the kids napped.

she paused for a minute, and you continued, “i know how hard this can be for you. and i figured a nice change of scenery for the kids would be good. a fun trip to the supermarket.”

“are you sure? i can help with the kids too, you know? this should be teamwork.”

“i’m fine, i can handle it. you need to rest, i don’t want to overload you with so much of them. we should take these things slow. have a bath, go to the gym, whatever you want to do. i’ve got them.”

with soapy hands and the dishes thrown into the sink, natasha pulled you down for a kiss, murmuring, “i love you, i love you so much.”

you giggled as you embraced her back.

–

however, at the supermarket, you quickly realised that you were a sucker for cooper’s puppy dog eyes; you could never say no to him when he flaunted them. you gave in, first to a pack of cookies, then a box of chocolates, by the time he had shown them to you again while clutching a tub of ice cream, you knew that he had you wrapped right around his finger.

you scooped him up then, threatening to bite his cheeks. “i am going to get into so much trouble with your daddy. please, please, pick between the cookies or that, sweetheart.”

he pouted, but you shook your head desperately, “please, don’t pull that on me. you know you’ll win.”

you ended up spending more time than necessary convincing the boy to pick just two of his favourites, with a deal that lila got to pick her own snacks. you tried to tell him that she was too young to do so, but his sister had his back; and he ended up getting the ice cream anyway.

and at the cashier line, you spotted the flowers section, and made a quick detour for them.

“i have a mission for you both. we’re going to pick the nicest, prettiest flowers for aunty nat, okay?”

it was lila’s turn to use her expertise, as you let her get her hands on any flowers she wanted for herself, and flowers that she could pick for natasha. there was a serious discussion between the kids, until they ultimately decided on getting pink roses for your wife.

you had to once again beg cooper not to tell his parents of just what you allowed him to buy at the store, while lila happily helped to hold on to the flowers in her baby seat in the car.

–

“aunty natttt!” natasha was more than happy to oblige coming down the stairs, seeing your car pull into the parking lots from the window.

freshly showered and energised from the gym, natasha suddenly felt her heart melt into a lovesick puddle as cooper rushed towards her, holding the bouquet of roses that covered nearly his whole face. “we picked this for you!”

“oh my,” she breathed, accepting it gratefully as she made eye contact with you. if there were a million universes, she wished she was married to you in all of them.

you sheepishly came to her, putting lila down and letting her return to her toys. “hi, we’re home.”

the flowers were crushed in between your bodies as she pulled you in, kissing your lips until they were almost going to bruise. you chuckled, helping her find a vase for them after. “thought it was a nice gesture. they picked the pink roses.”

“you know that i love you so much, right?” she asked seriously, head on your shoulder as you carefully placed the flowers in the vase. she almost never wanted to let you go. “you’re so good to me.”

“just what you deserve.”

–

natasha was almost heartbroken to have to say goodbye to the kids after the three nights they spent in your home; something she would never have said just a few months ago. they had changed her, and her perspective on what she saw were fragile, tortured souls, for so long. natasha never knew children could ever be so innocent and carefree. she never knew she could be so carefree and loving to them either, not until you showed her of just how happy they could make a home be.

you had to go on a mission the following day, so the two of you spent the rest of the day in bed, relishing in each other’s presence before you would be separated for a little while.

she rolled over in your arms when your phone rang, and the sight that greeted her made her stomach whirl. your wallpaper was the one of her and lila, the morning where you made breakfast for all of them. natasha could almost agree the ease and love she had for the child was unbridled and pure, evident in the photo of it then.

“darling…” she drawled, hiding her face in your neck. it had been playing in the back of her mind, moving to the tip of her tongue then. the photo just confirmed everything she had always known. you had changed her, mind, body and soul.

“yes, nat?”

suddenly, it wasn’t so suffocating, or difficult to say, “let’s have kids too.”

there was a hitch in your breathing, hesitation for a minute, and natasha wondered if she had said the wrong thing, if she had overestimated your love for children, if it was a mistake confessing that at all. she even thought, for a moment, that it would cause a rift in your relationship, and whether it was stupid to have said anything at all.

but then, your arms wrapped around her even tighter, as you brought her to face you. “...are you saying…?”

“they’re not so bad, cooper and lila, and all those other ones we’ve been around,” she confessed, “and i look at you, and i can’t think of anyone else more fitting to be a parent. especially a parent by my side. i’m ready to have children with you, and i want to carry them. for the rest of my life too.”

she felt hot, happy tears against her skin, as you sniffled and tried to hide your tears of joy. she smiled at you, letting her thumb graze over your skin. “i love you, and i want to share the rest of my life with you. but i think our lives will be even better if we can share it with our children, too.”

you nodded. at that point, you would have done anything natasha could ever want. “i think so too. but natasha, i want you to be absolutely sure of this, because…”

“...and i am. i am absolutely sure.” but she looked away sadly suddenly, swallowing her own tears. “i just–it’s difficult to even speak of it when i’m…when i can’t have them for you. not after what the red room did.”

it was your turn to wipe her tears, rolling over so you were on top, reassuring her, “in the morning, i promise, i swear on my life, that i will find a solution. tony and i…we had a discussion once. about letting the widows have a second chance. about giving them the freedom of choice to have a family. we even asked bruce about the possibility of a reverse hysterectomy.”

“and you stopped? the idea from going further?”

“well, i didn’t want to freak you out. you told me you didn’t want kids, and i thought bringing up the subject would make you uncomfortable,” you confessed, “though, now i wished we had started earlier.”

natasha thought for a moment, before, “i’ll do it.”

“hmm?”

“i’ll be your test subject, i’ll do it, if you and tony ever do it. i want to be the one to carry, and give you kids, baby. this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for us. and if there’s anyone that is able to do it, it’s you, tony, and bruce. no others i would trust with my life, and my body, more.”

natasha saw just the love and adoration in your eyes, and for once, she finally believed that she was so deserving of that love. she finally saw just how important, and loved she was, looking into your eyes, and the warmth that surged through her system made her want to curl even further into you and be in your embrace forever.

“i love you so much, natasha romanoff,” you muttered, “my wife, the mother of my children.”

she giggled into your skin, sitting up for a minute to feel your lips against hers. this time, the salty tears from both of your eyes only made the kisses even sweeter, even more lovely. she thanked clint and laura for giving her the opportunity to experience being a parent, tony and bruce for thinking of her so lovingly to want to give her a second chance at being a mother, and her lucky stars for you.

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel cinematic universe #natasha romanoff x spidey!reader

693 notes · View notes

munariplans · 4 months

Text

cold | natasha romanoff

synopsis: AU to the spidey!reader and natasha series, wherein a bad argument leads to unsaid misunderstandings and forever guilt between natasha and her love, just before christmas.

natasha romanoff x spidey! reader

word count: 2.2k words

warnings: major character death

a/n: i have to emphasise that this is an AU for these two once more, or i fear i may not make it out alive for christmas from your wraths as well...

masterlist

cold had been the one word you would describe the look in her eyes, as she told you to get out. to get out, if it made you happier going out on that stupid mission than spending time at home with your family. that stupid mission that no one could deny was not only dangerous, but life-threatening. but you were confident in your abilities. you knew that if anyone could survive it, you could. you also knew that bringing the stolen artefact home could add a nice year-end bonus that would chip in heavily to the new play room that was being built for your son.

you didn’t mention any of that to natasha, of course. she was already enraged enough as it is, standing by the christmas tree the three of you had decorated together. your son was a greater help than you, she would say, as you carried him on your shoulders and allowed him to choose where he wanted to hang the ornaments beside natasha. you remembered those moments fondly.

“get out then,” she bit harshly, “get out on that stupid, godforsaken mission if you have to. i could care less about trying to convince you otherwise anymore. it seems that whatever i say these days doesn’t even matter.”

“nat, of course what you say matters.”

“you don’t love me enough to have it matter.”

“how can you–”

but she had put up a hand to stop you. it was enough. she had sighed deeply, and began walking back to the bedroom. it was late, and your son had a preschool play the next day. natasha needed to get up early to put his costume together for him.

you didn’t see a point fighting her. maybe you should have. maybe you should have gone up to her, wrapped your arms around her, and told her just how sorry you were. that you weren’t going on the mission anymore, because it would be going against her wishes, and you loved her too much to disrespect her like that. maybe things would’ve been different then.

what you did instead, was sigh irritatedly as well, and began packing up for the mission. getting dressed in your spider suit underneath plain clothing, you slipped your mask into one of the pockets on your jacket. the pendant with natasha’s photo inside of it hung snugly on your neck; your good luck charms.

natasha watched you enter the bedroom, equipping your web shooters and packing the last of your things. she didn’t say anything. when you were finished and shot one last longing glance to her, she clenched her jaw and looked away. she didn’t want to be the one to give in first. she wished she had. she wished she had just put her ego down, and hugged and kissed you goodbye. it would have alleviated so much of the regret, and sorrow, that she was feeling right now.

you nodded understandingly, swallowing a particularly difficult breath. coming a little closer, you noticed natasha not flinching when you moved. so you took the chance to kiss her on the cheek, and murmur i’ll be home soon in her ear. she gave a nonchalant grunt and drew the covers over her face.

but natasha still cared. she cared so much that it hurt; it was inane for her, just caring for you. and so when you left the bedroom and made your way across the hall to your son’s room, she followed.

she watched by the door as you woke him up gently, leaning down to smile at him as he sleepily reached out for your voice in the dark. you held his hand, calling him your little warrior, and then, you leaned down and whispered, just enough for natasha to barely make out, “take care of your mama for me while i’m gone, okay? just like we talked about, my warrior.”

his hands imitated your own when you shot your web shooters; the spider pose, he would say, as you chuckled. you kissed him gently on the forehead then, and tucked him back in.

“when will you be back?” he asked, eyes wide as he saw your mission supplies.

you smiled sadly at him. “just in time for christmas, i promise.”

“pinky promise?” he let out his pinky, you interlaced it with yours, nodding.

natasha disappeared back into the room before you could see her, her own eyes red and brimming with tears. she heard the click of the front door a few seconds later. she wished she had never allowed you to leave that night.

–

it had been a mistake; a miscalculation on your part, which led to a mistake with even graver consequences than you had realised. you had slipped in the wet snow running from the enemies, allowing them to catch up with you. just enough for a clear shot.

the first few seconds after the initial gunshot felt broken, silent in the freezing air of the night. your breath was still ragged, desperate to flee, and your reflexes had been working perfectly fine. then came the second, and the third, and you knew something had gone very, very wrong.

you let go of the artefact, and zipped away out of sight.

ending up at a rooftop just near the park, you could hear the confused shouts and demands for the enemies to find you. but you knew, that while you were not safe up there, you were hidden. stumbling as you landed, you scrambled to feel just where you had been shot, and why the bullets weren’t deflected from your near-bulletproof suit. you cursed when you felt that they had been designed to mimic the density of arrows instead.

“oh my god,” you hadn’t realised just how much blood was pouring out of you. you reached out for the wall beside you, but soon enough, standing proved to be too arduous of a task, as you crippled to your knees. your hands drawn back were doused in blood, and you finally felt just how piercing the wounds were, exposed to the cold.

you lay on your back. rolling over onto your back was all you could manage. the lightheadedness was coming quickly; you were so cold, everything hurt. you had tried pressing your hands against the wounds, but even more hot blood coated them while doing so. under the moonlight, the blood appeared thick and black, almost like molasses.

the crippling fear that you were going to bleed out before anyone could find you began to set in. and through your short, panicked, breaths, you felt something slip out of your pocket. the blood had made the grip in your suit slippery enough to allow your phone to slip.

there, the wallpaper of natasha and your son shone bright against the dark backdrop of the night. you shut your eyes, summoning the last of your strength to grip it and bring it closer to you. your fingers slipped as they pressed down on natasha’s number from muscle memory. your vision had gone blurry by the time you managed to press the phone against your ear.

the tone rang once, twice, then, “hello?”

her voice was always sweet like honey. the thought of bleeding out before you could hear that voice for another day would have filled you with the rage of dying, but you had no energy for it any longer. you were so very, very tired. and so very, very cold.

“hi, my love.”

natasha moved the phone to her other ear. you rarely called her during missions; you had always feared for her safety. there was the soft pitter patter of rain in the background of where you were. natasha didn’t know that in the rain, the water and blood was slowly filling up your lungs.

“what’s wrong?” you hated how she knew there was something amiss. her voice already carried an air of concern.

you cleared your throat. “nothing. i just needed to hear your voice…how have you been?”

“it’s only been a week, baby. nothing much has changed since you left.” natasha would regret uttering those words just a few minutes later.

you smiled. “t-that’s good. how was our boy’s play? d-did he outshine the others, like i said?”

“he did, he was easily the best one there,” natasha cooed, her other hand ruffling your son’s hair as he played with his toys while waiting for natasha to complete mission reports in the compound. “he misses you so much.”

“tell him–” the line crackled as the rain beat down harder on you, “–please tell him–that–that i miss him too.”

the troubled feeling in natasha’s gut only grew bigger. “i will. baby, is everything okay over there? is the mission…okay?”

you drew a ragged breath that natasha didn’t miss. “yeah, yeah of course. mission’s perfectly fine. like i said…i just wanted to hear your voice.”

there was a beat of silence, as natasha held her tongue and you hoped she wouldn’t detect the fading in your voice. it hurt to breathe by then.

“nat?”

“yes?” she responded immediately.

“i’m sorry, nat. for going on this mission. for going against your wishes. i’m sorry–” the line crackled, “–that i made you feel small, or your opinions unvalued. you know that…you know that your opinions always matter to me. and–”

you had drawn up a cough, wet and bloody. “–and i’m sorry for all the times i never made you feel as loved as i should have. i’m sorry for not loving you enough, as you told me. i regret everything about that argument we had, you know. i love you so much, i don’t think i could fathom…the idea of losing you.”

“it’s alright, baby, it’s really alright,” natasha had moved from her office to the main comms room, paging for an emergency meeting, “i forgive you. and i said some nasty things i didn’t mean too. i hope you forgive me as well, and we can move past it, together. i love you too, you know.”

“yeah, i do,” your eyelids were drooping, “thank you.”

natasha could hear the footsteps of the others by then. “baby, are you sure everything is alright? should i call for help? where are you?”

“no, no,” you begged, “please, i’m alright. just stay on the line with me, please.”

“i’m not hanging up.”

you let out another bloodied cough. this time, it was hard to deny that natasha couldn’t hear it, because it had launched you into an even worse state, your suit beginning to grow heavy on your bones from the water and blood. there was no hope by then.

“nat?”

“yes, sweetheart.”

“it’s just me and you here, right?” you looked up to the moon, wondering if it was the same one she was staring at right now.

natasha shut her eyes in pain, gripping the table before her. fury’s hand wrapped over hers, as the team gathered around her. they had already begun tracing your call, and the avengers were suiting up. “...just me and you.”

you were wincing between every word, “the drawer below where you keep your winter coats. our son’s christmas present…and yours. i–don’t think–i can make it home for christmas on time. will you help me break the news…to him? i’m sorry.”

natasha let the tears run freely then. they had found you. and she had seen just the state you were in. “baby, please. why are you–”

“–please?” natasha shook her head. this cannot be happening. “nat, please?”

“okay, okay,” she reluctantly agreed. whatever to keep you awake. “in exchange, can you…can you hold on for a little while longer? i’m coming, baby.”

you let out a soft exhale as you smiled. “i love you nat. i always have, and i always will.”

“i love you too. so please, can you–”

“–do me a favour, nat. don’t. don’t try. just please…please stop crying for me?”

she had wanted to scream. she had wanted to scream, to find you and shake you so hard that you would wake up and realise that you were killing her just by dying too, and that she had wanted to slap you so hard for even daring to ask her not to cry. but she also wanted to hold you, to hug you and kiss you, and have the opportunity of feeling your touch once more before she said goodbye. she didn’t want this to be the way it all ended.

she didn’t know how she was going to survive without you. her blood was running cold and she was pacing back and forth in anxiety. the team didn’t dare interfere with how she was dealing with the impending loss of her wife.

your voice was drifting further and further away. you were dying.

“i have to go now, nat. please forgive me. please forgive me. and please kiss our son goodnight before bed tonight for me. thank you for everything.”

the phone dropped, and natasha’s world stopped. her son would not only know that you weren’t coming home for christmas, but you weren’t coming home at all. and she would know that had she just convinced you a little better, loved you a little harder, you wouldn’t have gone on the mission. and she would still have you by her side for christmas.

cold had been the body they found right outside yours and natasha's shared apartment. cold had been natasha’s heart the moment she saw you again, the life in your eyes gone and the guilt in her heart needling itself into grief.

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel cinematic universe #natasha romanoff x spidey!reader

522 notes · View notes

munariplans · 4 months

Text

In another universe, the lights on Christmas trees never burn out. They just twinkle on forever, reflected in the eyes of enthused children and curious pets while opening their presents.

54 notes · View notes

munariplans · 4 months

Text

the arrangement, part 2 | natasha romanoff

synopsis: part 2 to the arrangement // the happy ending for those who love natasha as much as i do :)

natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 4.1k words

a/n: let me know your thoughts, and i hope this warms your heart that there are happy endings in this world too!

masterlist

a month after yelena’s wedding, natasha approached you for a talk that turned your life upside down. she explained that when you left after the slow dance and bucky found someone new to play with, a woman had approached her, and asked her to dance. one thing led to another, and she was now asking for your permission to stop whatever arrangement the both of you were having, because she had wanted to make the woman her girlfriend.

you scoffed internally, almost. asking for permission, natasha had always been too considerate for your feelings. even when she was pursuing someone else, she had wanted to make sure that you were fine with it.

and how could you not be? you were the one who rejected her advances, kept a safe distance, respected her rules, after all. you were the one who let her go, first.

so you swallowed the rising bile and resentment in your throat then, gripping the rails of the emergency staircase she had chosen to speak to you in harder, until your knuckles turned white, and nodded convincingly.

“of course,” you had said, as nonchalantly as you could. don’t make this weird. don’t make this harder for yourself than it should be. “of course, we should stop.”

“oh, thank you,” natasha said in relief, before instinctively pulling you close to kiss your cheek. it was only when her lips landed against your skin that she froze, and immediately pulled away, “i…should probably stop that now, too.”

you smiled sadly. “yeah, you should.”

she cleared her throat. you hugged her goodbye to save her the awkwardness. then, just before she shut the door to the emergency exit, you called, “natasha?”

she left the door open, head turning back to you, almost as if giving you a second chance. almost as if letting you say what you truly wanted to say, to fight for her instead of letting her go just like that. but you could only say, “i hope she treats you well, and i hope you’re happy.”

“i hope so too.”

–

you first met natasha’s girlfriend at a cafe, two weeks after the staircase incident. you had returned from a run with a friend, the very same friend that you had told about your not settling down, the very same friend that you then told how much you regretted those words, a day after yelena’s wedding.

both of you waited for your coffees by the counter, but when a voice called out your name, you could instantly recognise it even from a mile away.

your friend tried to hide his snicker as you made eye contact with natasha, who was just leaving, with a woman behind holding her hand. then you saw the reason why he did. she looked just like you.

you tried to hide your shock as natasha came in for a side hug, you awkwardly patting her back. “hi.”

your eyes drifted to the woman behind, and you offered her your hand, “you must be…”

“...emily,” she told you. you realised natasha hadn’t even told you her name, “and you must be natasha’s best friend.”

“oh, i wouldn’t–”

“–she speaks very highly of you, so, i know.”

you snuck a look to natasha, who shrugged unconvincingly. she looked rather uncomfortable, even though she had been the one to approach you first. she must have known you would notice, and you were sparing her the embarrassment of asking why her girlfriend looked just like you.

instead, you muttered a thanks to the redhead, and turned your attention back to her girlfriend, “well, i’m just glad she hasn’t chosen to speak about all the embarrassing things i do, as well.”

she chuckled, and natasha smiled back at her. you tried to hide your hurt from the gesture, turning back to the barista who had prepared your drinks. it was your cue to leave first.

“it was nice meeting you, emily,” you said, then looking at natasha again, “and i’ll see you around, natasha.”

she noticed you stopped calling her natty.

–

yelena invited the both of you over for lunch at her new place one day, and when you asked if natasha would be bringing her new girlfriend, yelena was kind enough to tell you she was, allowing you to mentally prepare yourself.

“please never forget that this is all your fault,” the blonde said, shutting the oven door as she peeked over your shoulder. you were helping her prepare said lunch, arriving an hour earlier to cook the pasta that she and natasha both loved. “you fumbled my sister. i tried to help you.”

you stopped stirring the sauce for a minute, before admitting, “i am happy for her.”

“no, you’re not,” yelena quipped, and you almost threw your spatula at her, “but you try to be. because that’s the kind of person you are. and while natasha may find that terribly endearing, i find it incredibly stupid and frustrating.”

“...not anymore.” you said under your breath, but yelena caught it.

“what was that?”

“not anymore,” you clarified, “she doesn’t find it endearing anymore.”

“like i said, your faulttt!” she trailed off, walking to retrieve more ingredients from her garden.

but then, natasha arrived without her girlfriend, almost two hours late. you knew natasha couldn’t stand being late.

yelena asked her about it before you did. you thanked your lucky stars the woman had such a busybody for a sister.

the tension in her shoulders, and the slight furrow in her eyebrows gave away the lies she was saying, when all she could come up with was, “she was busy. had a last-minute thing.”

you chose to look away when she made eye contact with you, returning your attention to the other guests.

–

but when the lunch stretched into the evening and the other guests had begun to leave, you noticed natasha’s sadness hadn’t dissipated, and it was only left with you, her, and yelena in the house.

you wanted to make sure she was fine, as you accompanied her outside on the porch when she promptly got up to get “fresh air”.

“what’s bothering you?” you kept a safe distance, leaning against the side of the front door as natasha sat on the wooden bench.

she let out a soft smile. “there’s no hiding from you, huh?”

“i’m your best friend,” you replied. she nodded, defeated.

“i was just…a little annoyed that i waited for her to pick me up for nearly two hours, but she never came. i mean, it was fine if she couldn’t give me the lift, but i would’ve appreciated her telling me earlier, rather than cancelling and leaving me stranded at the last minute. and i wanted her to meet you, and yelena, properly, too. too bad she had a work commitment.”

you unfolded your arms, moving to sit beside her then. she looked like she needed the company. but natasha was strong, and she wasn’t so ready to show herself so vulnerable so soon. “but it’s stupid, it’s just a small thing. i’m okay now, and i really liked your pasta earlier.”

“i cooked extra and packed them into leftover containers for you. there should be enough to last a few more meals.” you replied. natasha’s smile looked genuine for the first time that day, upon hearing your words.

you brought her in to rest her head on your shoulder. she sighed at the comfort of your perfume. it was one she missed inhaling dearly. rubbing her back then, you told her, “next time, if you need a lift, anytime, anywhere, just call me. i’ll come pick you up, no matter what.”

she never had to doubt or second-guess your words. you kept your promises.

–

natasha’s girlfriend showed up during the friendly bowling night that steve organised, you noticed, as the pair arrived an hour later than even tony, which was a feat.

“sorry,” emily was the one who apologised, although she looked anything but apologetic, face hiding a proud grin, “we got busy in the car.”

you were the only one in the group who didn't participate in the raucous boo’s and eww’s, instead turning your attention to counting the number of balls the team needed for the game. natasha looked almost embarrassed at the confession. she never was one to enjoy making her affairs public with others.

–

halfway through the night, in the lane next to yours, natasha hit a strike for the first time in her life. you knew, as you caught her jumping excitedly mid-air and pointing towards the knocked down pins to her girlfriend. however, in response, the woman only gave her a half-hearted thumbs-up and returned to scrolling on her phone. she didn’t seem to acknowledge her girlfriend’s achievement at all.

you turned an annoyed look at her, before your eyes found natasha, and she smiled at you, shrugging sadly. you immediately went over and congratulated her.

“that was incredible,” you said excitedly, giving natasha high five.

she didn’t look convinced. “yeah, i think i got lucky.”

“even so, you looked so cool,” you reassured her, “i definitely was jealous.”

she let out a small chuckle at your words.

later on in the game, where the rounds had all bled into one long match and people were growing restless, natasha’s girlfriend got up to buy them drinks upon her request. maria elbowed you to talk to natasha alone for the first time that night, but you didn’t want to start anything you weren’t sure her girlfriend was comfortable with, even though natasha was left sitting alone in her own lane, eyes trained on you to walk up to her as well. you only gave a small wave.

you watched as her girlfriend returned after a while, handing natasha a blueberry soda, and cringing at the fact that you knew natasha didn’t like blueberry.

“can we exchange it?” you heard natasha whisper, but her girlfriend wasn’t so kind.

“it all tastes the same anyway, why can’t you just drink it? i paid an overpriced amount for that, you know?”

you suddenly felt the urge to punch the living lights out of the woman, hearing what she said. you wondered why, when you were never a violent person before. perhaps the resigned look on natasha’s face played a vital part in your own feelings, as she nodded numbly and sipped the soda that she oh-so-didn’t enjoy.

when her girlfriend had returned to hitting the pins again later on, you took the opportunity to leave your own team for a moment, ordering an extra cherry coke under the guise of buying your own snacks.

you handed it to natasha as you came back, sneakily taking her blueberry soda away from her and throwing it in the trash nearby. you gave her a small wink, but the woman looked like she was ready to risk it all for you then.

–

it was emily who reached out to you first, regarding a six-month anniversary gift for natasha. you hardly believed it had been six months since natasha had broken your heart with another; it felt like time hadn’t moved at all.

you agreed to it, accompanying her to the mall to look for things to get the love of your life and “just a girlfriend” to emily.

“anything in particular you’re looking for?” you asked. emily didn’t know. it was clear she had never gotten a gift for natasha in the duration that they’ve been together. you swallowed the annoyance down; different people had different ways of showing their love, you guessed.

she stopped outside a jewellery shop, and said, “she has this necklace she’s been wearing since before i even met her. small one, with a flower pendant on it. it looks cheap, don’t you think? i should get her a new one.”

you struggled to hide the hurt and offence you took from her comment. “well, if she likes it enough to keep wearing it, i don’t think it should be an issue.”

“you’re right. and a necklace is too expensive, anyway. i don’t think i’m ready for that kind of commitment yet,” she joked. you wondered why she would say that, when natasha had told you she was a successful banker.

“six months is a pretty big commitment, no?” you stayed outside the shop, when she had clearly walked a bit of a distance away. she turned, chuckling at you.

“i don’t know. i just don’t…feel it yet, that connection. i’m pretty sure natasha hasn’t either. oh well.”

you caught up to her, sighing. “come on, emily. you need to start treating her better, because if you don’t, someone else will.”

she stopped, turning to look at you, still the amused smirk on her face. “didn’t realise you were so protective over her. if you wanted her so bad, just take her off my hands then, jeez.”

it had been a joke, but the way emily had regarded natasha as something more of a possession, an object, than an entire person who was perhaps the best thing that can happen to a person like her, had you seething in rage as you went home later that day.

–

“your girlfriend’s an absent asshole.”

“come on, she’s not that bad.”

“but she is.” you sat up then, readjusting natasha’s head position on your lap, looking over her. she had been crying, mascara lines down her cheeks and dried tear stains on her face.

emily had stood her up for the third consecutive date after their six-month anniversary, on top of the shitty grocery store box of chocolates she had given to the woman.

you had picked her up from the restaurant she was supposed to be at for her date earlier, when natasha called you in the middle of a work meeting, crying that she was afraid she had been stood up stupidly, yet again. your hands had been shaking with fury as you drove to where she was.

natasha rolled halfway to wrap her arms around your waist. “maybe i’m just expecting too much. maybe i was expecting from her…what i received from you, when we had that arrangement back then.”

there was a lump in your throat, as you answered, “you are not too much, and you shouldn’t be too much, for the people who love you, natty. and you know i want to so badly respect your relationship, you know i have been the most patient, out of all our friends, in giving emily a chance, but i cannot sit here in good conscience and tell you it is okay for her to keep treating you like she has been treating you.”

there were tears in the material of your shirt then. natasha had hidden her face in your comfort. “...i miss us. what we had, what we were, back then. can’t i just go back to that time, the last time i was happy?”

you continued running your fingers through her hair, staying silent. it was best to stay silent.

natasha then looked up at you. “don’t you miss it too?”

she saw you look away. you didn’t want to face her then, and it broke her heart. “...i do. but i don’t wish to go back there.”

“why?”

the fingers in her hair stopped their ministrations. your body stiffened. it was right at the tip of your tongue, what you wanted to say. natasha deserved to hear it from you first, at least.

“because i broke our arrangement first.”

natasha had her hand holding your face now. you sighed into it, wondering if this was what friends did. “what do you mean?”

“i caught feelings for you, i’m sorry.”

the hand on your face was still there when you shut your eyes, choking down the sobs that had wanted to overflow. it was still there when natasha got up from her position in your lap, sitting on you then, it was still there when she brought her other hand onto your face, and pressed her lips against yours.

when you dared open your eyes again, she was still there. she hadn’t been a figment of your own imagination. and she was smiling at you, soft, unsure.

“oh i had feelings for you too.”

your first thought had been oh god, what a relief, which morphed into really? and then, we wasted so much time.

“why didn’t you tell me?” she frowned.

“i didn’t want to ruin what we have. i didn’t want to ruin the friendship.”

“i wish you hadn’t been so considerate.”

“i wish i hadn’t been either,” your gaze cast downwards, you were cruelly reminded that natasha wasn’t yours. not then, not now. she still had a girlfriend to return home to. “if i hadn’t…i probably would have the opportunity of loving you right now.”

natasha nodded in agreement. “you would have.”

then, you confessed, “is it bad to wish for you to not be with emily? you don’t know just how much it hurts me, seeing her treat you the way she does; not when i know i could treat you, and love you, so much better.”

you let out an uneasy smile as natasha laughed through her happy tears, “oh, i was planning to break up with her anyway! an absent lover, an even worse girlfriend.”

the shared smiles and laughter between the both of you awakened the butterflies that had long been dormant in your stomach again. “and after which, i’ll ask you, officially ask you, to be my girlfriend.”

“you better.” natasha said, nuzzling her face to your neck as she hugged you tightly.

–

you waited for natasha as she met up with emily one last time, and after a few tearful exchanges and goodbye hugs, the redhead was already jumping back into your car, gazing lovingly as you reached out for her hand, thumb grazing over hers while you drove away.

it was movie night at yelena’s, and the two of you took up the last two empty seats at the far-end of her sectional sofa. you asked natasha briefly if she was feeling a little sad at the breakup, and what six months of her life with emily had been reduced to, but all she could tell you was that she felt guilty, that she had spent the past six months trying to picture someone else as you, but also thankful, that those months had been put to an end. she then draped the two of you with a blanket she stole from yelena, holding your hand underneath it.

thor took the seat beside yours, steve took the floor, and when everyone was settled in, the movie played.

natasha rested her head on your shoulder halfway through the movie. you guessed she didn’t really care if anyone saw it by then, perhaps everyone knew. and when her breathing slowed and the climax of the movie dwindled, you noticed she had fallen asleep, her arms now around your waist once more, cuddling into you. you readjusted the blanket to keep her warmer.

when the credits began to roll and everyone had gotten up, however, you were still frozen in place, refusing to move. at tony’s questioning look, you could only mouth “i don’t want to wake her” before you were met with eye rolls from the rest and yelena taking a photo of natasha’s drooling face.

an hour passed and natasha still hadn’t awakened, so yelena gave in and told you the two of you could use the guest room in the house to crash for the night. you felt the need to explain to her that natasha had broken up with her girlfriend, and that you weren’t trying to take advantage of her sister, and that–

“–i know, i know,” she cut you off, holding up a hand, “i trust you, you know my sister better than anyone else. just…take care of her, okay?”

you thanked her, and began carrying natasha up the stairs, still asleep in your arms. “and don’t let her drool on my new silk sheets, please!”

–

you once again helped natasha remove her makeup and washed her face before bed, and when she felt the coolness of the wet washcloth on her skin, her eyes slowly opened, revealing the emerald green orbs underneath. you didn’t need to deny that the green in them always left you a little breathless any longer.

sleepily, she let out a smile, and pulled you in closer to her. “i love it when you take care of me.”

“and i would happily do it for the rest of my life.”

you snuggled in next to her when you were done, pressing a kiss to her hairline. but before you could drift off to sleep, natasha poked you in the ribs and asked, “when are you going to ask me to be your girlfriend?”

you faked contemplating for a moment, and the poke to your ribs this time came harder. “so impatient, my love.”

“i think i’ve been very patient. i waited for you during our arrangement, waited even longer when i was with emily, i want to be with you now. i can’t stand a second longer not being yours.”

your heart could burst with just the love you had for this woman. so you held her hand, pressed it to your heart, and earnestly asked, “fine, then. natasha romanoff, would you make me the happiest woman alive, and be my girlfriend?”

she transferred your intertwined hands to her own heart. “yes, yes, yes, please.”

the bed erupted into a fit of giggles and soft kisses as the both of you embraced each other then.

–

natasha announced your relationship officially to the rest of the team a few days later. she claimed she hadn’t wanted to hide anymore, and that she was very lucky to have the privilege of being by your side. you supported her during her confession, holding her close and peppering her in kisses after, as the team congratulated the both of you.

the both of you showed up together to the wedding of another friend. and this time, you slow danced with her to all the songs there were. you didn’t leave early, your body was in sync with hers the whole night, and you carried on the celebrations to the hotel room you both shared. you absolutely loved natasha romanoff, and you didn’t have to hide it anymore. you proudly told everyone you knew, you showed it to everyone who didn’t know.

you brought natasha out on dates weekly, no matter how busy either of you were, no matter what the occasion was. some dates even included just you and her cooking in her apartment, relaxing into the night with a bottle of wine and dreamy conversations until either one of your hands travelled too far and began the initiation for making love. and when natasha suggested moving in together precisely because of those dates, you weren’t afraid, or reluctant at all. you welcomed the idea with open arms.

the domesticity of sharing a life with natasha wasn’t boring, and the repetitiveness gave you a sense of comfort and a safe haven to come back to after long days. you would cook for her, she would clean the house, and when the both of you were tired, you would give her massages and she would wash your hair in the bath together. it was a life the both of you had dreamed of when you thought of a lovely, ideal one.

and when there were fights, there were fights. but you were too soft-hearted for the woman you loved, and after each fight, you would crawl back into her arms and beg for her forgiveness if you were in the wrong. when she was in the wrong, you would do so regardless, with her then apologising as well for her mistakes. it was natural, and normal between the two of you. you refused to let fights simmer or last overnight, and natasha was thankful that you were so kind to her even when you were so angry.

–

more than a year later, the very same friend had asked you again if you had any thoughts about marriage, since you were with natasha now.

the both of you had been looking around for an anniversary gift for natasha, and you had passed by the shop where you first bought her the necklace with the flower pendant. the very same necklace that she had never taken off ever since.

there, lay a brand new line of engagement rings. and when you were just about to walk away and shrug and avoid his question, a particular one caught your eye. it had a jade as green as natasha’s eyes. it would fit on her finger so well.

you looked back at him, and he was already grinning at you. he laughed, patting your back, and told you he knew you would be taking back the words you said to him that day.

“fine, i am ready to marry her now.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel cinematic universe #angst with happy ending

750 notes · View notes

munariplans · 4 months

Note

I thought the arrangement would have a happy ending you have broken my heart 😭

i thought so too :( that’s why i was thinking of a part 2 for those who aren’t big angst fans hahaha

#natasha romanoff x reader

18 notes · View notes

munariplans · 4 months

Note

Hiii thank you for updating on your recent story! I enjoyed it!!💓 could I request Natasha x reader in a situationship & there’s a avengers wedding and they both get invited separately only for reader to see Nat in a different way and suddenly realised they had feelings all this time for her 🥹

the arrangement | natasha romanoff

synopsis: based on the request above!

natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 5.6k words

a/n: i really do have a fondness for writing pining and angst, enjoy hehehehe

masterlist

in a rare instance in the years you’ve known natasha, it was her that awoke first that morning, shaking you awake as yelena pounded on the door to her room.

“hey, hey,” natasha whispered-yelled, prompting you to get up while opening your eyes blearily, “you have to go. yelena’s here.”

yawning, you gave her an “OK” signal as you gathered your surroundings. you had once again fallen asleep in her room after last night. gathering your clothes and fixing your hair then, you spared a look at her mirror first before leaving, and what you saw almost made you want to laugh out loud.

“how the fuck did you manage to cover me in this many hickeys?”

natasha turned to you, halfway through freshening herself up as well. the redness in her cheeks grew prominent as she saw the many purple and red bruises littering all around your neck. cursing, she threw you a turtleneck from her wardrobe and pointed at the window. yelena was asking her why she was taking so long now.

but just before you climbed out, she thought about it, and risked it for a few more seconds, before pulling you in to press a kiss to your lips. “that girl that was hitting you up at the party last night was being annoying. had to show her you weren’t interested.”

you grinned, shaking your head at her ridiculousness.

and right as you shut the window and slipped out, yelena barged in and threw her several wedding dress options onto natasha’s bed, demanding for her sister to decide which one looked best. but natasha hated to admit she was still distracted from the way your ass swayed right as you sultrily sneaked out of her window.

–

later that same afternoon, you were walking with your friend, accompanying him ring-shopping, when the question first came up.

“aren’t you ever interested in marriage? or, at the very least, finding a partner?” he half-joked. everyone knew you had been single for a while now. “we’re not so young anymore, you know.”

in response, you shrugged. “i don’t see a point.”

“in loving someone?”

“in being with someone, at all. the domesticity, the mundaneness, it’s all so…boring, after a while. i don’t see why you, and so many others, would want to be tied down by all of that, forever.”

“...so you don’t see a forever?”

“right now, with just one person, i don’t,” you said, your eyes drifting off to the street across, where a girl in braids of red hair reminded you of a certain someone you had begun sleeping with in the past few months.

–

you called natasha on the way home, asking if she had company for the night, and if not, whether she wanted yours.

she replied that she was frustrated, and that yelena was being a bitch about her wedding planning. natasha had insisted that a band would have been a better musical accompaniment, yelena had wanted to allow tony and clint to get drunk enough to sing for her.

you came to yelena’s rescue, apparently. because right as you arrived right back at natasha’s apartment, where the two women were clearly at each other’s throats and yelena had literally picked up a butter knife to threaten her sister, you caught natasha from lunging at her and wiping the stupid smirk off her face entirely. she thrashed in your arms, but with a few reassuring words and a promise to let yelena have a taste of her own medicine later, she relented.

“can you believe how stupid she is sounding? wanting the drunkards to sing for her?!” natasha pointed out then, to which yelena took offence once more.

“i’m sorry i want my wedding to be fun!” she screamed, “you can’t help it if god made your sister boring!”

“why, you–”

you held natasha firmer by your side, at the feeling of her nearly jumping to strangle her sister. “–natasha, enough. let it go.”

“she was being–”

“–it’s her choice, her wedding. let it go, will you? we can discuss this another time, when you two are less…riled up,” then, you leaned in closer, and whispered, “if you behave now, i’ll let you try fucking me against the glass of that window you like seeing me escape out of so much later.”

her breath hitched, you knew you had struck a deal with natasha. she backed off, and even stopped herself from retaliating at yelena’s middle finger and stuck-out tongue.

but when yelena had left for the day and the two of you were alone, natasha found herself being strapped to the passenger seat of your car, as you drove her to her favourite ice cream parlour nearby.

a pout on her face, natasha asked as you parked, “i thought we were going to have sex after she left.”

you nodded understandingly. “we are, but i think i need to cool you down with ice cream first. i don’t want to get myself injured from your wrath with yelena earlier.”

the truth had been because you thought natasha needed a space to calm down and process her feelings first, and not to bottle it up and shove it away from sex. plus, you thought that the treat would cheer her up a little as well, putting aside how hot you found angry sex was with natasha.

of course, with your little quip, you could only expect natasha elbowing you as hard as she could, as you laughed and opened the door for her to the parlour.

–

“they have a new flavour here,” natasha pointed against the display, “apple pie.”

“you won’t like it.” you thought about natasha’s preferences for ice cream, and while they were boring, they were safe. “they have your usual today.”

but she took it as a challenge, apparently. “i’m going to try it.”

and as the cashier took both your orders, natasha noticed you place an order for her usual flavour. while it was odd that you would deviate from anything even remotely far from cookies and cream, she chose not to speak of it.

you watched as natasha took her seat in front of you, then taking one bite of her apple pie scoop, before her face morphed into one of doubt, then slight discomfort, and finally, disgust. still, she tried to hide it from you, putting on a straight face as you asked her how it tasted.

“fine,” she said, but her disdain said otherwise.

in response, you smirked, offering her a bite of your own scoop. she was persistent in not wanting to at first, but as you offered her again, she took a bite, then another, and another, and oh well by that point you had given her your entire scoop and taken hers away from her.

you tasted the apple pie scoop. it had cinnamon, something natasha clearly disliked. there was no wonder, you thought, smiling to yourself as you watched her finish the last of her usual order of vanilla with chocolate sprinkles.

–

you were at the bachelor’s party of yelena’s fiancé when natasha’s call came in. she had dropped you a string of drunk texts that night, a product of her own consequences from attending yelena’s bachelorette party.

“hello, natty?” you answered, moving away from the noisy atmosphere of the club to a secluded side. you caught the groom giving you a confused look, you gestured that it was natasha on the line, and he gave you a weird smirk.

“hellooo,” she drunkenly slurred. in the background, you could hear yelena asking for more shots. “my lovely, lovely, friend. where–are–you? i want to go home nowww…”

you moved further away from the club, bringing your phone closer to your ear. “i’ll come pick you up. are you sober enough to text me the address?”

just then, the phone was brought to maria’s side, and you could hear her shrieking for natasha to let you enjoy the party, and that there were designated drivers to bring her home if she needed to. natasha yelled back that she wanted you to come pick her up.

you got the address from the groom, as he and the other people in the party boo-ed you for leaving so soon. you still had a line of shots to finish and a karaoke match that you would be missing, but you had already picked up your jacket and began finding your car keys to pick up natasha then.

when you found her, she was slumped over the bar counter, in a conversation with the bartender, who was clearly wanting to serve the other customers to earn his keep. you approached, and natasha immediately went to your side as she hung off of you, smiling from ear to ear. her smile made your own lips turn up in amusement.

“are you the one she’s been talking my head off all night?” the bartender asked, and you chuckled.

“i guess so,” you thanked him for taking care of her, and left the bar after saying a round of goodbyes to the people in yelena’s party as well.

–

you helped natasha to the passenger seat of the car, but right as you reached over her body to help fasten her seatbelt, her hand caught your wrist, forcing you to look up at her.

her eyes met yours, and in a clear split second of momentary sobriety, you saw sincerity in them. she whispered, “you’re so pretty, i think i might be in love with you.”

you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled in your throat, as your first reaction was to snicker, then look away from her. then, when you heard her groan behind you, the snickers became full-blown chuckles as you laughed in her face at the drunken confession. “oh, i have so much blackmail material against you when you’re drunk.”

natasha hit you frustratedly as you returned to the driver’s seat, but you caught her hand as you continued, “you’re drunk, natasha. you’re saying things you don’t mean.”

you helped her out of the car again as you reached her apartment, her leaning her body on yours as she stumbled finding her way through the building. using the extra set of keys she had given you, you unlocked the door and set her down on her sofa.

guiding her to her bedroom, you felt natasha’s hands then start travelling up and down your body, and while in any normal circumstance you would have indulged her, and perhaps initiated more, you knew she was drunk. you weren’t going to be the asshole who took advantage of their friend, with benefits, when it was unclear even to her what she was doing.

you removed her hands, and let her lie down on the bed. she pouted. “do you not want me?”

she saw you disappear into her bathroom for a minute, before returning with her toiletries. “i do. you know i always do. just not when you’re drunk.”

“but i want youuu,” she slurred, “and i’m so horny nowww.”

you smirked, but still refused. instead, you rested on top of her, slowly removing her false eyelashes, then wiping off her makeup, and finally helping her carefully wash her face. she sighed at the gentle massage and warm water. “you know, anyone else would have said yes. anyone else would have been dying for natasha romanoff, me, to sleep with them like this.”

“but i’m not anyone else, aren’t i?” you quipped, taking off her clothes and rejecting yet another advancement for her to take yours off as well. you went to her dresser to find her pyjamas.

natasha rolled her eyes, turning her body away from you as you dressed her up again in protest. you smiled to yourself at her cuteness, tucking her in and pressing a kiss on her forehead. “tomorrow, when you’re sober and still up for it, call me. i’ll be here right away.”

she watched you place a strip of advil and a glass of water for her hangover tomorrow, before gathering your things again. “...you’re not going to stay? where are you going?”

drunk natasha really was clingy natasha, you thought. “i have another hookup i need to get to. need to make the most of my nights, you know?”

in truth, you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries you and natasha had set up for yourselves when you first got into this…arrangement. she was clear on not wanting any feelings to be involved, and with how things were turning out tonight, you were afraid that if you stayed, there would be a blurring of some lines from her end on her feelings; lines that she would reenforce the morning after even more strictly. and while you didn’t generally have a problem with that, you had felt that you had gotten natasha to lower her walls down enough to enjoy your company beyond your flings; you didn’t want to risk all that just for a night where she could possibly tell you her drunken feelings about you. you treasured your friendship too much for that.

and so you left, leaving natasha slightly stung and hurt with the implication that you had someone else, or a lot of someone elses, waiting for you if she wasn’t sleeping with you, and strangely, it affected her more than she thought it would, even drunk as she was. watching you leave, she thought selfishly about how she hadn’t slept with anyone since she began sleeping with you, so was it only fair that you had the decency not to as well?

but you and her were just friends, she had to remind herself. it was not like she had power to dictate who you were seeing, and who you slept with, anyway. it was not like you two were exclusive, or in a relationship at all, which was precisely what natasha hadn’t wanted at the start. now, she was wondering why she even uttered those words at all.

little did she know, you were doing nothing of the sort. instead, you had gone straight home, put up a romantic comedy on the TV, heated yourself some leftovers, and sighed as you pondered over your own early end to the night.

–

everyone who knew you and natasha, knew however, that whatever relationship you two had, was more than just friends. that the two of you had crossed the line of just friends about twenty late-night hookups and rendezvouses ago, no matter what either of you claimed about the other.

it was clear in the way you cared for natasha more than any other friend you had, it was clear in the way natasha sought out for you more than she even initiated a conversation with anyone else.

which was what made it so incredulous; that you would allow anyone else try to court natasha before you did.

everyone had warned bucky that what you and natasha shared was more than just a surface friendship, and relations ran deeper than what he thought was possible. but still, it didn’t stop him from taking your own words against yourself, and confronting you about it one day.

“you’re just friends, right?” he asked haughtily, interrupting you as you were helping yelena sort out the final touches to her wedding venue arrangement. you dismissed him with a quick grunt and agreement.

but he followed you. “then you wouldn’t mind helping me get to know her, would you? or better, helping her fall for me?”

you paused in that moment, yelena, overhearing the conversation, consequently giving him a weird look as well. surely not, she thought, turning her attention to you, but you seemed to contemplate his request.

and she nearly choked in disbelief, when surprisingly, you agreed to help him out in chasing natasha.

you shared with him that natasha’s birthday was approaching, and when he asked what kind of gifts she would like, you wanted to say something small, heartfelt. but then you realised it was probably only in your case she would like it so. from anyone else, you thought she deserved the world.

“something big, extravagant,” you told bucky, “natasha deserves only the best, you see.”

he happily lapped up any information you gave him about natasha, the person who knew her best.

and when her birthday did arrive, you watched by the sidelines as bucky shyly presented his gift to her, an outlandish, extravagant display of just his infatuation for the woman. everyone had thought it was well-thought out, very well suited to what she liked, and you patted yourself on the back at the comments. it was you, after all, who had accompanied bucky to get her gift.

natasha looked flustered, admittedly, at the surprise of someone knowing what she wanted so well. it wasn’t everyday that she told the people around her what she wanted for her birthday, after all. and to think about it, she had only told you, of her wishlist upon her birthday.

when she found a moment with you alone that night, as the party winded down and everyone began to leave, she was interrupted by bucky hanging around foolishly, almost as if he was waiting for something to happen between them. she kindly gave him a kiss on the cheek, and promised him she would call him the next day. she needed to get to you first.

you were by the bar as you watched their interaction, the giddy look on bucky’s face as he left and gave you a thumbs-up making you chuckle.

then, natasha appeared by your side, asking you what was so funny. you didn’t have the heart to tell her.

“i didn’t forget to get you a gift, by the way,” you told her when she had coaxed you up to her bedroom, “i just…didn’t want the others to see. saved you the embarrassment of the teases and accusations in front of everyone.”

“oh god,” natasha replied, “you’re going to gift me a sex toy, aren’t you? i just know it.”

“you are such an addict,” you snickered, “what do you take me for?!”

then, you pulled out a small box from your jacket, tied in a tiffany blue ribbon with her name written in an accompanying card alongside the box. natasha’s fingers trembled as she received your gift.

to my natasha, my bestest friend.

she didn’t know why her heart dropped a little in disappointment at the note. but she kept up her unwavering smile, and pulled on the ribbon.

it was a silver necklace, with a flower pendant right in front. it was neither tacky, nor extravagant and luxurious, like bucky’s gift had been. and while his gift was definitely something natasha liked, and was surprised by, your gift had been the one that almost sent her to tears.

“because you’re beautiful like the flowers,” you said, a little uncertain as you watched tears well up in her eyes, “natty, are you okay?”

she tried to reel in the tears, but to no avail. worried, you said, “if you don’t like it, i can return it, it’s okay. i can probably get back a half-refund for it, and get you the voucher to spend on something else. oh god, you’re crying because of me, is it that bad…?”

but then, suddenly she was throwing herself onto you, arms wrapped around your neck as she sobbed hysterically. she had never known someone who knew her so well. you wrapped your arms around her body, still confused, when she choked out, “i-it’s perfect. thank you.”

she asked you to help her put it on, and when the clasp was tightened and natasha felt the pendant rest on the base of her collarbones, she held it as if she was holding it close to her heart. it was the best birthday gift she had ever gotten.

“i’m sorry it’s a little small, and kind of lame,” you professed later, as she laid on top of you, spending the last few moments of her birthday together. it was also the rare few times the both of you were fully clothed while laying on that bed. “i know you deserve so much better, but i…i saw the pendant, and it reminded me of you.”

natasha listened to your heartbeat quicken as she reached out for your hand, interlacing her fingers with yours. “i loved it. you don’t have to apologise. thank you, for today as well. steve told me you planned the party from start to finish. called the caterers to make sure they had what i liked, arranged the drinks from the bar, even nearly having a fight over the cake decorations with the bakery. it must’ve been so much trouble.”

your laugh this time was warm, rumbling from your diaphragm. “not at all. not if it’s for you.”

your eyes met hers, and when natasha readjusted her face just so that she could be closer, to give you a perfect opportunity to lean down and kiss her, to give her the perfect end to her birthday night, you stupidly looked away, and told her you couldn’t stay.

as you left, you reminded her to call bucky again, and natasha nearly threw her own phone at you in frustration.

–

natasha had unwillingly agreed to a lunch date with bucky, upon your suggestion that he was a nice guy, and that she was the only one left to go to yelena’s wedding without a date. she made you promise to pick her up right after, and while you feigned that she was so troublesome for asking for such, you were happy to do it for her.

“well, how was it?” you asked. you had been driving for a good fifteen minutes after picking her up, and natasha still had not said one word about him. she had only been talking to you about your day up until then.

she shrugged, almost as if not giving a care for it. “it was okay. he paid for the lunch. we talked about yelena’s wedding.”

“okay enough for a second date?”

she looked away to the window. you thought you said something wrong, when she replied, “what do you think about him?”

“well, i don’t know,” you said, “when he came to me, asking for help to get you to like him, i thought he seemed genuine enough. so…i helped him.”

“wait,” natasha suddenly sat up, shooting you a glare, “you were helping him? to get to me?”

your gaze met hers for a brief moment, before returning to the road. “...yes? is there anything wrong with that?”

she stayed quiet for a moment, but you knew she was seething. you offered to explain yourself, to tell her that you just wanted the best for her, that’s all, and that bucky seemed like a good partner for her, when natasha held up a hand to stop you.

then, she demanded for you to stop the car and let her out.

“what?” you asked, puzzled. “it’s still half an hour to your apartment, natty. and it’s about five degrees out, you’ll freeze to death if you get out.”

“i said, stop the car!” she argued back defiantly, “stop the car or i’m opening the door right now and throwing myself out!”

you knew not to take natasha’s words lightly, as you stopped finally. then, you watched with even more disbelief, as she unbuckled her seatbelt, got out, and slammed the door shut again.

when she began walking her route home, you followed her with your car and pleaded, “come on, natty, are you mad at me?”

she refused to make eye contact or acknowledge you.

“fine, i was wrong. i never should’ve helped him, and i won’t help him anymore. i just…i wanted what was best for you, you know? come on, get back in the car, it’s cold outside, and you still have so far to go if you walk.”

“what’s best for me…” she said under her breath, “...how do you know what’s best for me?”

“natty, i said i’m sorry!” you begged this time, but natasha suddenly took a turn to the right, leading up to a row of shops where the roads didn’t allow for cars in, and you knew it was your sign to leave her alone. she still didn’t acknowledge you when you said you were sorry for the third time.

–

the next time bucky came up in a conversation between you both (you had been very careful not to tread upon it since that day), natasha told you that she had let him down and told him to try again when she was more ready for a relationship.

you were afraid of asking why, in fear that she would ignore you and get upset all over again, but she invited you to do so. so you asked, and she said that she had her eye on someone else the whole time, so it was unwelcomed at the thought of you trying to set her up with bucky.

you had wanted to ask who it was, your curiosity piqued, when you were interrupted by wanda asking you for a dance. it had been at another friend’s wedding, after all.

natasha found herself digging her fingernails into her palms when you took wanda’s hand and danced with her.

–

the woman showed you just how jealous she had been of wanda hours later in your bedroom. with the knowledge that her and bucky were no longer a thing, you no longer had to respect your boundaries with her as a friend, and the both of you returned to sleeping together again. to say that you missed natasha’s touch had been an understatement.

“you look so pretty with my hands around your neck,” natasha whispered harshly. there it was again. the last time she called you so pretty, she was drunk. now, she was sober, and you were still finding it hard to believe her words. perhaps it was just something she said in the heat of the moment.

you moaned as her fingers plunged harder, and deeper, within you, letting your eyes roll to the back of your head as natasha ravaged you for the night. in the morning you would wake in her bed again, and it would be okay, because you had her back, finally. the red, raw trails on your back from her fingers wouldn’t feel so sore, the hickeys around your neck and jaw no longer a nuisance. because you had her back, and it was all that mattered.

–

leading up to yelena’s wedding, the two of you returned to a shared normalcy that was similar to before the bucky incident; something both you and natasha were grateful for.

you would pick her up for lunch at her favourite restaurants most days, and on more than one occasion, you would catch natasha taking pictures of you when the both of you were alone. she thought you looked too good, in the natural sunlight of the restaurant window, and in the scarf that she had bought for you for your birthday.

when you would ask to see the photos later on, you found it hard to disagree that the world did look better in natasha’s eyes.

away from your prying eyes later, natasha would set the photos she took of you as her phone wallpaper.

–

with natasha as the maid of honour and you being one of the grooms (wo)men, natasha was the one who insisted that you at least knew how to dance properly when the slow songs came about. you had whined that you wouldn’t be dancing anyway, since you didn’t have a date, and you weren’t looking to find a date, but the woman was insistent, and you could never really say no to her.

“it’s easy, just follow me, and try not to step on my feet,” she reminded you, fixing the turntable to an elvis record. you watched in adoration at the warm lighting of the room, and how, even in her pyjamas and her hair tied in a messy bun, natasha still managed to look beautiful even in her apartment’s living room.

she took your hands in hers, placing it on her waist, as she laid her head on your shoulder. “breathe. and follow me.”

the music played. it was easy enough keeping up with natasha, following her footsteps and swaying to the music. but what was not easy, was having her breath fanning out against your neck, the smell of wine in her mouth, and the music, oh the music. it was a huge mistake to dance with natasha when elvis’ can’t help falling in love was playing in the background.

the both of you softly, slowly danced, natasha taking comfort in your touch, while the music accompanied all that you were feeling for the night.

shall i stay? would it be, would it be a sin? if i can't help falling in love with you

would it be a sin if you fell for natasha? you could only hold her closer, relishing in the fact that in that brief moment, where the two of you were dancing, no one else mattered, and nothing else was there, except for your two souls, beating as one. once the song was over, it would be back to being just friends for you both, but in that moment, you were infinite, and you were natasha’s.

when she felt you let go first as the song ended, natasha resisted the urge to hold on tighter and ask for a second song.

–

on the morning of the wedding, you woke natasha up first, pressing kisses all over her cheeks and face as she giggled and wrestled you off. then, she tried sneaking her hand past the band of your panties, to which you reluctantly pulled her out of, mentioning how you couldn’t be late to yelena’s wedding, of all events. she groaned and kissed you for a consolation prize.

the both of you got ready together. in the bathroom mirror, when the two of you were brushing your teeth, you made eye contact with natasha and she did with you. she smiled shyly, and you realised you didn’t mind spending the rest of your mornings brushing your teeth beside her for a lifetime.

she sat on your lap as she did your makeup, and you did the same doing hers. the both of you must have had a silent agreement to not look into the other’s eyes for too long in those moments, because you knew natasha wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss her when she got too close.

and when the both of you arrived and separated into your respective sides of the venue, you wished natasha the best of luck with a kiss to her cheek. she hugged you back in reassurance, telling you would do well in the slowdance later.

when the guests were seated and ready, and natasha and you standing in the opposite sides of the bride and groom, you caught her eye again, watching yelena walk in. she looked absolutely radiating, and you knew she was thanking natasha secretly for convincing her that a band was a better musical accompaniment than whatever she had planned for herself.

you look beautiful, you mouthed to natasha. she hid her blush in the bridesmaid beside her, as she mouthed the same back to you.

but when elvis’ song came on again, as yelena walked down the aisle, your eyes were still transfixed on each other. it didn’t matter, because everyone else’s eyes were on the bride then. only you and natasha had each other.

and suddenly, you realised that forever with someone, didn’t seem so bad at all. not if it’s with her. not if it’s natasha.

the domesticity, the mundaneness, it wasn’t all so boring if it was with her. you realised you would relive the thousands of days of doing nothing, if it was spent by her side.

you realised you would do anything for her, even go out to get a ring for her right then, propose and then marry her in a chapel, if that was what she wanted. if it meant forever with her.

you realised that maybe you loved her, more than just friends. and loving her meant realising that you didn’t have to make a wish ever again because you already had everything you could ever want with her.

–

you wanted to ask for her hand when it was time to slow dance. you wanted to ask her to be yours. you wanted to ask her if it hurt to breathe while you loved her as much as she loved you.

but when you found her, and went to her side to ask her, you were interrupted by bucky once again, who patted you on the back and diverted his attention to natasha.

he asked her to dance first. and the smile on your face fell, natasha noticed. she halted him, turning to you to ask what was wrong, but then you shook your head, telling her you were fine. she asked again, but you insisted that she dance with him. you would tell her later.

you didn’t know if you were too late. you didn’t know if there were good reasons natasha had established boundaries between the two of you, and whether breaking them meant losing her forever. what were you thinking, that just because you caught feelings, meant she would catch them too?

you wouldn’t risk what you have with her just because of your feelings. you treasured natasha too much for that.

and so when she slow danced with the man on the dance floor and tried catching your eye to dance with her instead, you only gave her a small smile and left the ballroom first.

because you weren’t hers and she wasn’t yours. that had been the arrangement from the start.

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel cinematic universe

832 notes · View notes