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lillywillow · 2 years

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Winds of Kismet

Summary: When you decide to give up on love, the universe in all its infinite wisdom sends you a delectable smorgasbord of men to choose from. The question is now, who do you pick?

Word Count: 2470

Pairings: (Female Reader’s choice)

Warnings: Mild adult suggestions, mild swear words

A/N: This fic is going to be kind of like a make your own adventure story including guys from Supernatural, Marvel and DC in a kind of modern AU. At the end, you can pick your own ending!

After your most recent breakup, you decided that was it for you. No more dating, no more relationships. You truly thought you had meant it at the time you had made this declaration but little did you know that the universe had something planned for you. It started with your weekly girl’s night with your two best friends.

You were talking to the girls about your jerk of an ex and how you had given up on dating all together.

“I’m telling you, men aren’t worth the trouble,” you sighed, sipping on your cosmo.

“You could do what Harley did and get a girlfriend,” Nat suggested. “Speaking of which, how are things going with Ivy?”

“Pretty good, just wish she wouldn’t leave the seat up,” she smirked from behind the rim of her glass. “I’m just kidding… it’s usually me who leaves the seat up…”

This earned her a strange look from both you and Nat.

“What? How else is Bruce gonna stay hydrated?”

“You let your dog drink toilet water?” Nat questioned.

Harley shrugged and sipped her drink.

“Anyway, it’s not necessarily the guy. It’s about the relationship. I’d want a guy who’s giving, strong, down to earth, attentive to my needs… and if he’s not bad to look at, there’s a huge bonus,” you smiled to yourself.

“I know where you could find a guy like that but you’d have to search the adult sites,” Harley smirked, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

You rolled your eyes, getting up in response to the knock on the door. There stood the pizza delivery guy, his shirt fitted nicely across his chest, his eyes sparkling green and a nametag with the word ‘Dean’.

“Did someone order the extra-large sausage?” he asked.

Naturally his question sent your two friends into a state of hysterics.

“Shut up!” you whined before turning back to the understandably confused delivery guy. “I’m sorry, we’ve had a few drinks…”

“It’s fine,” he smiled, making him look even more handsome if that were possible.

You gave him the correct order for the apartment, realising there had been a slight mistake. While he was searching, Harley threw a cushion at you.

“Hey!”

“You should totally ask him out!” Harley encouraged.

“She’s right, Y/N. Ask him out,” Nat agreed.

“I don’t know…”

Dean finally found your order and as you were paying, Harley came up beside you and put her arm around you.

“Hey, my friend Y/N here thinks your cute. Can you give her your number so she can call you sometime?” Harley grinned.

You were absolutely mortified. Instead of laughing at you, Dean looked you up and down before smiling.

“Sure,” he chuckled.

“Here’s her phone!” Nat replied, giving Dean the device.

“Nat! Wait, how did you get my phone unlocked?”

“I know your password,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

You didn’t get a chance to respond as Dean handed your phone back.

“I hope to hear from you soon, Y/N,” he smirked with a wink.

With that, he headed off to make his next delivery.

“You two…” you began.

Your friends laughed as you scolded them. The rest of the night was spent talking about Dean and the doors it could open up.

…

The following day brought temptation in the form of a handyman. You weren’t exactly sure what happened but you woke in stifling heat. After fiddling with your thermostat for longer than you cared to admit to, you finally called the building handyman. Fortunately, it didn’t take too long for him to arrive. When you saw him, your breath hitched in your throat. He had sandy blond hair and was dressed in a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, jeans and a toolbelt slung low on his hips.

“Hey. I heard it was a little hot in here…”

You stood there opened mouthed for a few seconds before inviting him in and showing him the problem.

“I see you’ve done some tinkering,” he commented as he set to work.

“Yeah, I tried to fix it but hitting while screaming ‘Work you bastard’, wasn’t helping…”

The handyman chuckled, and you suddenly felt very hot; a heat that had nothing to do with the broken thermostat.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” you sighed, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Clint,” he replied, never taking his eyes off his work.

You in turn, couldn’t take your eyes off him. His face was calm and focused and beads of perspiration were starting to break out on his forehead.

“I’m sorry, can I get you something to drink?” you asked.

“Nah, I’m good. I’m almost done here…”

With a few final tweaks, he had the thing fixed.

“There,” he smiled, wiping his forehead with his arm.

“Thank you so much. I think I finally understand how a roast feels,” you joked.

“Good thing you didn’t mess it up too bad,” Clint playfully teased. “I’ll be seeing you around…”

“See you…”

You secretly hoped more things in your apartment would break.

…

Later in the day, you were returning from running errands when you noticed a lot of boxes stacked around the apartment across the hall from you. You knew the previous tenant had moved out a while ago and they mostly kept to themselves. It might be nice to meet your new neighbour. When the man who you assumed owned the apartment walked out to collect another box, you definitely decided to would be nice to meet your new neighbour. He was wearing a white t-shirt that barely contained the sculpted body beneath and tight jeans. Steeling yourself, you went over to give him a proper greeting.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I guess you’re my new neighbour,” you smiled.

The man tucked the box he was holding under his arm and extended his hand.

“Hi, I’m Clark. Clark Kent. I just moved here from Metropolis,” he smiled back.

“Nice to meet you Clark,” you replied, shaking his hand and trying to keep your cool but internally freaking out.

“Could I take you out for coffee sometime? It would be my way of welcoming you to the building.

“I’d really like that, Y/N. I just need to get my stuff sorted but I’ll see you some other time, okay?”

“Sure. I’ll see you later…”

Clark gave you another dazzling smile and headed into his apartment with his box, leaving you feeling just as flustered as ever.

…

Work provided no less distractions. When you got to work on Monday, you were moping over the loss of your assistant. She was one of the best ones you ever had but when she was offered a better position, you knew you had to do what was best for her and let her move on. You were working at your desk when your thoughts were interrupted by a handsome, cleanshaven man in a navy-blue suit.

“Hi, you must be looking for the modelling agency. They’re on the floor above us…”

The man laughed softly.

“I’m actually here as your new assistant,” he said, giving you his letter of recommendation from your last assistant. “My name is Steve Rogers.”

“You… you’re my new assistant?”

You were stunned. What kind of sick joke was the universe playing on you by giving you not two, not three but four good looking guys in such a short amount of time?

“Yes. You were expecting me today, right?” he asked, looking a little concerned.

It took you a few moments to find your words again.

“I was. Sorry, I guess I’m still just… thinking about my last assistant…”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. You were thinking about how you were going to get by without her but now… Now you were thinking about you were going to get any work done with such an attractive man working for you.

“Shall we get started? I’ve already taken the liberty of getting you a coffee to the specifications on my list…”

Numbly, you took the cup from Steve, taking a sip of the hot beverage and finding it to indeed be exactly how you liked it.

“Thank you, Steve. Let’s begin.”

…

You were very grateful by the time Friday rolled around. Steve was proven to be an excellent assistant. He was very capable and performed every task you required of him but you found it very hard to keep focused on your work when you were around him. It didn’t help that throughout the week, you had a few more run-ins with Clint the handyman and your new neighbour Clark. You were hanging out with Nat again at a bar and relaying your issues to her but she was less than sympathetic.

“Oh, boohoo, poor Y/N. I have all these good-looking guys after me, I can eat all the ice cream I want and never gain weight and all the clothes I own always fit me perfectly every time. Please,” she scoffed, tossing back her drink and ordering another.

You were about to retort when you heard a deep chuckle coming from the chair beside you.

“What are you-”

The question died on your lips as you got a good look at the guy. He had eyes like a stormy sea and long, wild hair.

“Un-freaking- believable,” Nat muttered under her breath

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to listen in. It’s not often I hear about a complaint like that,” the handsome stranger smirked.

“It’s not so much a complaint it’s just… For a while, all I seemed to date were losers and jerks… you know, the kind of guy who thinks if he pays for dinner that entitles him to a free ride, you know?”

“Sure,” he nodded.

“I just thought if I took a break from dating… I’m sorry, listen to me info dumping on a stranger. I’m Y/N, by the way…”

“Arthur Curry,” he replied, shaking your hand.

You sat with Arthur for most of the night (much to Nat’s annoyance) and got to know him quite well. By the end of the night, you exchanged numbers.

As you left with Nat, you could feel her glaring at you.

“What?”

“The guy…”

“Who, Arthur? He’s nice, but… Look, Nat, I still don’t know. Yeah, it’s fun looking at all these men but… I don’t know if I’m really ready to start dating again. I… I’m scared to let myself fall in love… I don’t want to get hurt again…”

Nat gave you a sympathetic smile and hugged you.

“It’s okay to be happy, Y/N. Everything you went through has made you stronger and will help you find the warning signs sooner in the future…”

“I really hope you’re right, Nat…”

“Of course, I am! Now, let’s get an Uber and we can head back to your place… maybe order a pizza?” she grinned.

You rolled your eyes at the implication but smiled anyway.

…

Your day off provided two more potential options. The first was in the form of a delivery guy. You had been waiting for something you ordered to arrive when there was finally the knock you had been waiting for. The delivery guy was tall with broad shoulders, supple wavy hair and deep brown eyes that you could practically swim in. His nametag read ‘Sam’.

“Hi, I have a large package for Y/N?” he said.

You knew if Nat and Harley were here they would barley be able to breathe from all the laughing they would do.

“I’m, Y/N,” you said, feeling heat rise to your face.

Sam presented his clipboard for you to sign before allowing you to collect your item. He stood a moment in thought.

“You didn’t happen to meet my brother Dean a while ago, did you?” he asked.

“That depends if he delivers pizzas or not,” you replied.

“That’s him. He mentioned you when he came home that night. Listen, I’m sorry if he annoyed you or anything. He can be quite flirty when it comes to women…”

“It’s fine. My friend giving him my number however…”

“Oh…”

Sam looked a little disappointed.

“But that’s just my friends trying to be helpful! In their own weird way… I’m not really the kind of girl who goes on a lot of dates…” you sighed looking down.

“Forgive me if I’m being too forward but would it be alright if I gave you my number? I think I would like to get to know you…”

“I think I would like that too, Sam,” you smiled.

Sam returned your smiled and put his number into your phone.

“I’ll see you again, sometime…”

With that, he left to make more deliveries.

…

That afternoon, you went to the gym like you normally would. Today you would be working with a new personal trainer. Your friend Jane swore by this guy and by the way her arms had been toning up, he must have been good.

“Hello, are you Y/N?” a deep male voice asked.

You were not prepared for the spectacle that was your trainer. Long, golden locks pulled back into a ponytail and his bulging arms looked like they could barley fit into a t-shirt. He looked almost godlike.

“Yes, I’m Y/N. Are you Thor?”

“Indeed. Shall we begin?”

Thor started you off with some basic stretches to loosen you up and you found it exceedingly difficult to concentrate every time he touched you to correct your positioning, all the while asking your permission to do so beforehand. Next, he moved into a light warmup, praising you whenever you kept up a decent pace with him. By the end of the workout, you were covered in sweat while he was barely glowing.

“You did very well today,” Thor smiled, helping you to your feet.

“Thanks. I try to get a little workout in and I guess I wanted to step up my game a little,” you panted.

“Shall I see you again soon?” he asked.

“Yeah, see you soon,” you smiled.

…

At this point, you were beginning to question yourself. Were you really the kind of girl to go out with a different guy every day of the week? Well, technically, some of them were strictly professional but could they be more? You remembered Nat’s words telling you that it was okay to be happy.

So… who do you pick?

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marvelfilth · 8 months

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Professional help (18+)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Wanda Maximoff x f!reader, brief mention of Peter Quill x f!reader

Warnings: AU, gynecologist!Natasha, assistant!Wanda, smut, oral, fingering, cheating, Peter being an asshole

Summary: your boyfriend makes you see a doctor to get yourself "fixed", luckily Natasha and Wanda know exactly what to do

A/n: I'm not a doctor, so bear with me pls

Masterlist

You sit in the waiting room, anxiously waiting for your name to be called. Your leg bounces rapidly against the marble tiles of the clinic, drawing the attention of other patients. You cross your legs, sanding a sheepish smile to an old lady who's been eyeing you for the last few minutes, wishing your boyfriend just stayed with you like he promised he would.

He's the one who made the appointment after all.

You sigh for a hundredths time and check your watch, debating on leaving. Peter will be disappointed, sure, perhaps even mad, but you still can't stomach the idea of admitting something so embarrassing to a stranger.

You've been dating for almost six months now, and after a lot of persuasion on his part, you've finally allowed him to take your virginity. Your jaw clenches when you remember the night. It was very romantic, sure, the wine was expensive and as old as your grandma, the food was delicious and his jokes were perfectly timed, but when it came down to it, you were both left disappointed.

Peter is attractive, sexy, and you know any girl would kill to be in your place, but when he took off his clothes and climbed on top of your naked body you couldn't feel a thing. You went to sleep unsatisfied. He went to sleep with a bruised ego and a promise of getting you right the next time.

And now you're here, ready to see a gynecologist, because there has to be something wrong with your body, there's no other explanation.

"Y/n Y/l/n?" A voice pulls you out of your head.

You look up to see a young woman, smiling down at you politely, her green eyes sparkling in the blinding lighting of the hospital.

"Yes?" You speak up hesitantly, torn between following the woman and trying to make it for the door.

Her smile turns genuine. "Follow me."

You walk behind the woman, your eyes pinned to the intricate braid, strands of brown hair clinging to her neck. You swallow, looking away. It's definitely not the time to stare at a pretty woman. She leads you to the last door down the hall, opening it and following behind you once you step in.

"Take a seat." She gestures at the chair in front of the doctors desk. You swallow nervously when you notice a gynecological chair behind a folding screen.

The woman squeezes your shoulder

"Don't be nervous. Dr. Romanoff will take good care of you," she says with conviction. For some reason it helps you relax, your shoulders dropping. "My name's Wanda," she says, "I'm Dr. Romanoff's assistant. I'll be here the whole time."

You gulp. "Like… the whole time?"

She smiles, mirth flickers in her eyes.

"Yes, the whole time." Another voice enters the conversation and you crane your neck to see the woman striding into the room to take place in the white leather chair behind the desk. "Is there a problem with that?"

She eyes you intently. You feel like it doesn't matter what your answer will be, Wanda will stay either way. And now, looking at the stern looking woman you feel like you'll need Wanda's soft reassurance. Maybe that's why she's here in the first place.

You shake your head at last, not trusting your voice not to waver.

"Good. Now tell me what's bothering you." The redhead flickers through your medical file, barely sparing you a glance.

You look at Wanda for help and she sends you an encouraging smile, her hand sliding lower down your arm. "Um…" you start, not sure how to broach the subject. "Well, you see, me and my boyfriend, we-" you swallow nervously, and Wanda takes hold of your hand, squeezing your fingers reassuringly. "We've been intimate… a few times. But it seems there's something wrong. With me, I mean." You cringe, biting your lip.

You can feel their gazes on you.

Dr. Romanoff's eyes narrow dangerously and you feel like getting up and running away.

"What do you mean by that, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, her breath fanning your ear.

You gather your courage and meet her eyes. "I can't- I can't finish." Now that you've started, the words come out easily. "I mean, it doesn't bother me, not really, but my boyfriend-"

"It doesn't bother you?" Dr. Romanoff cuts you off. You feel small under her eyes, ready to fold in on yourself.

"N-no?"

She sighs heavily and closes her eyes for a moment. You feel like a child about to get scolded.

"So you're here because your boyfriend can't make you come." The words leave her mouth the second her eyes open.

You flinch, scooting deeper into your seat. Wanda wraps her other arm around your shoulder, softly nudging you to continue.

"He- he told me he's never had that problem before, and I… well, when I tried it myself, you know…" You look at Wanda and she nods in understanding. "It didn't work either, so he must be right. Can you help me?" Your cheeks are crimson red by now, you can feel how hot your face is.

Dr. Romanoff stands up abruptly, making you flinch. She walks behind the folding screen and you can hear her fiddling with something. Wanda squeezes your shoulders reassuringly and tells you to follow her. You do so without a second thought.

"Take off your clothes," Dr. Romanoff says, settling on a rolling stool.

You gulp, folding your arms in front of your chest. "A- all of them?"

Dr. Romanoff looks like she wants to roll her eyes before stopping herself and looking at Wanda, her brow quirking. You can feel Wanda inhale sharply behind you.

"Yes, sweetheart, all of them." Her tone's urgent. "You need a thorough examination."

Dr. Romanoff smirks at that, shaking her head almost unnoticeably.

"You heard her." She nods at you.

You look around for a spot to undress, but figure it doesn't matter if they'll see you naked anyway, so you hesitantly start to undress under their scrutinizing eyes.

"Let me help." Wanda's fingers skimp over your skin as she helps you take off your bra, your nipples hardening from the cold. Dr. Romanoff's eyes dart to your pebbled skin, her lips parting slightly.

And then Wanda cups your breasts from behind you, whispering, "I'll start right now, okay?"

You can only manage a small nod.

Dr. Romanoff must've noticed the state you're in, because suddenly she's kneeling in front of you, tugging down your pants along with your underwear, humming at the sight of a string of your slick connecting to your panties.

You close your eyes in embarrassment.

She cups your face. "No need for that, angel. You're doing good."

You shudder at the tone of her voice, slurty and breathy. Having no idea on why your body is reacting this way, you lean back against Wanda, granting her more acces. She massages your breasts, kneading and tugging until you're left breathless.

Then, as quickly as she came, she pulls away and nudges you into the other woman's arms. Dr. Romanoff leads you to sit on the chair and you swallow your embarrassment when she spreads your legs and puts them on the knee rest, sliding between your legs on her rolling chair.

You look away, wincing.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Wanda whispers from your side, taking hold of your hand, "Natasha is best at what she's doing."

You breathe out.

You think her name fits her very well.

"How long does it usually take?" You ask, not daring to look away from Wanda.

Faint scraping noises sound around the room as Natasha writes something down in your chart, humming in thought. She hasn't touched you, not yet.

"Not long, usually, but you're here for a special reason, aren't you? So it's going to take a bit longer," Wanda says quietly.

You nod in understanding, finally looking down to meet Natasha's eyes. She's holding a speculum. You shudder, backing away. Wanda pins you in place with a strong grip on your shoulders.

"Please, don't. Can you use something else?" You ask. Biting down on your lip, you look at the redhead pleadingly. The last time a doctor used that thing on you, you were hurting for days.

"I don't think there's anything else I can use. I promise I'll be gentle," she tries to reassure you, but you shake your head no, gripping Wanda's hand fighter.

"Please, just use something else. There should be something else, right?" You plead.

Natasha's eyes flicker to Wanda, a silent question swimming in the emerald pools. After a tense moment she gives the younger woman a brief nod. She slides away and Wanda leaves your side, taking Natasha's place between your legs.

Dr. Romanoff takes hold of your face, gaining your attention. "My assistant needs some hands-on practice and this is a perfect occasion, since you're adamant about the speculum. You don't mind her using her fingers, do you?" She rubs your chin gently, coaxing you to agree.

You wet your lips, feeling your pussy clench in anticipation. Natasha's eyes follow your tongue, her pupils dilating. You nod your consent and Wanda wastes no time in spreading your folds open and teasing your entrance. Your hips jolt violently.

"Try to keep still, sweetheart, or we'll have to restrain you." Wanda fingers glide around your folds, barely grazing your clit and you're already drenched and gasping for air. "You're doing good so far, angel, keep it up." Wanda smiles softly, gently easing one of her fingers inside.

You bite back a moan, gripping the cushion below you with all of your strength. Natasha keeps taking notes, occasionally glancing down at your pussy and exchanging quiet words with Wanda.

Wanda's finger pumps into you at a gentle pace, hitting a soft spot deep inside of you.

You didn't even know you could feel that good.

When her finger curls you let out a loud moan. Your hand flies down to take hold of Wanda's, but it's intercepted by Natasha's, who pins you back down with surprising strength.

"You're not allowed to move, remember?" She scolds. You nod dumbly and relax in her hold. She nods in satisfaction and looks at Wanda. "One more."

Wanda obeys and slides two fingers in the next thrust, pushing down on your hips with her other hand. You try not to squirm, but your legs still shake from the way her fingers curl inside you. Your eyes begin to water as your stomach tightens, you feel like you're about to explode.

"How does that feel?" Natasha's whispers against the shell of your ear, her hair tickling your neck.

"G-good, so good," you whine, desperately clutching the chair.

"Mhm," she hums, putting her hands on either side of your breasts, rubbing the skin in soft circles. "You're taking Wanda so well, kotenok. Make me proud and hold it for me, okay?" She asks as her hands cup your breasts, pressing down on your nipples.

You don't have to ask to know what it means, you just shake your head desperately, not daring to touch her. Tears gather in the corners of your eyes, making your vision blur.

"Please, Natasha, pl- ah!" You cry out when Wanda adds another finger, stretching you out deliciously. She thrusts into you hard and fast, making your body move up on the chair. "I can't-" you bite down on your lip, pleading Natasha with your eyes. "Please, let me come."

The doctor chuckles with mirth, rolling your nipples between her defty fingers. "Stop."

Wanda pulls away immediately, making you whimper. You want to cry out, you want to tug her back, but you do none of these things, obediently laying back and waiting for Natasha's instructions.

You pussy clenches around nothing while Natasha takes her time stepping around you and taking Wanda's place, the younger woman coming to stand near your head, wiping her fingers.

"Natasha's gonna take a good look at your pussy, sweet girl, just don't move."

Dr. Romanoff's fingers slide in without any struggle, immediately making you whine and buckle your hips in her hold. She spreads her fingers inside you, opening you up even more and you feel like you're about to burst from the stretch. You moan loudly when she adds a third finger.

"Keep quiet," she says, pinching your inner thigh.

You swallow back moans as she starts circling your clit with her thumb, the added pressure sending shivers down your spine.

"Such a perfect body," Wanda murmurs, trailing her fingers down the length of your torso. "You deserve to be worshiped." She leans down and licks a long stripe from your ribs to the underside of your breast, sucking the tender skin there.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your fingers burying in her brown locks. She hums softly as her arm slides along your waist, holding you tight.

Natasha doesn't waste another second waiting and sets a rough pace, thrusting her finger deep and spreading them with each thrust. "Look at you, malyshka, your greedy pussy is swallowing my fingers," she smirks, bending down to kiss your inner thigh.

"Natasha!" You cry out loudly, your back arching. Lips wrap around your nipple, sucking gently, and you choke on your moan, your pussy clenching around Natasha's slender fingers.

"You're doing good, baby, so good," Wanda mumbles around the pebbled skin, "You deserve to be filled to the brim. Fuck, you'd look so pretty with both of us deep inside you, sweetheart."

Your hips buckle to meet Natasha's thrusts and this time she doesn't stop you. She curls her fingers, hitting a spot you didn't even know existed and you come, your orgasm hitting you hard as spots of white cloud your vision.

Natasha's fingers don't stop moving inside you, if anything she thrusts faster, rougher, your sensitive clit pulsing rapidly.

"We're not done until I say we're done, got it?" She leans down to wrap her lips around your bundle of nerves and sucks, fingers moving inside you with a violent pace.

Wanda releases your nipple with a wet pop and focuses her attention on your neck, teeth leaving purplish marks on the tender skin. You cry out, another orgasm fast approaching and Wanda pulls you into a bruising kiss, your moans disappearing between her full lips as Natasha licks long stripes up your slit.

"You're doing so good, baby. Fuck I want to make a mess of your pretty face, sweetheart," Wanda whines and takes hold of your hand, pushing it past the waistband of her scrubs. You follow her lead and soon your fingers disappear in her wet heat. She gasps and bends to rest her weight on you as you quickly pump your fingers inside her.

Natasha pulls away to admire the scene in front of her, fingers lazily circling your clit before she plunges four of her fingers back inside, stretching you to the brim. Your back arches as you moan loudly, clenching around slender fingers. Wanda comes with you, burrowing her face into your neck as you both come down your high, gasping for air.

Dr. Romanoff presses a kiss to your thigh before gently prying strands of hair away from your face. "We'll have to schedule a follow up appointment, kitten."

#wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff smut #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #wandanat x reader #wandanat #black widow smut #scarlet witch x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #professional help

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just-aake · 9 months

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Widow’s Charm

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha finds herself falling for Tony’s new lab assistant and weapons technician.

Warnings: fluff

Words: 3322

Natasha walks down the hallway towards Tony’s lab, holding her widow bite gauntlets in her hand. Typically, she would have just sent them down to be repaired, but an unexpected mission came up which means she needs them fixed sooner rather than later. Reaching the entrance of the lab, the doors slide open for her as she enters.

“Hey Tony, can you fix–,” Natasha stops when she notices someone else working in the lab.

You look up from your work table at the new voice in the room and see the Black Widow staring at you curiously. You have been working at the Avenger’s Compound as the new weapons technician as well as Tony’s lab assistant for the past few months.

Since then, you’ve met all of the other Avengers already except for the mysterious Black Widow, though you have repaired some of her equipment that she had sent down previously.

Tony tells you that she prefers to keep to herself, which you can understand. You settled with the fact that you may never meet her in person, so it is a small shock to see her standing in front of you.

Putting down your tools, you wipe your hands on your apron and walk over to her. Extending your hand to her, you give her a polite smile as you introduce yourself.

“Hello, my name is Y/n L/n. I’m the new weapons technician and Mr. Stark’s assistant in the lab. How can I help, Ms. Romanoff?”

A small surprised smile forms on Natasha’s face at your words. Intrigued to learn more about you, she raises her hand to yours in greeting.

“Hi, you can just call me Nata–.”

“No, no, no!” A voice yells from down the halls outside of the lab.

Tony comes rushing into the lab, breathing heavily. Looking around frantically, his eyes widen at the two of you. He rushes over to you quickly, grabbing you by the shoulders, and pushing you away from Natasha and out into the hallway.

“I need you to go get the thing from Pepper,” he tells you.

“What thing?” you ask in confusion as you turn back around to him.

He gives you a brief wave before pressing the button on the side, shutting the lab doors in your face.

For a moment, Tony remains standing by the door, tensed as he purposely avoid looking at Natasha. Then, in the next second, his entire body suddenly relaxes, and he moves casually over to his workstation.

“FRIDAY, what’s the plan for today?” Tony asks.

“The parts for the new repulsors arrived today, sir,” the AI voice replies.

“Great, get those plans pulled up for me, will you?”

Natasha blinks at the lab doors as she tries to process what just happened. She turns to Tony, looking for an explanation.

“What the hell was that Tony?” she exclaims.

Tony looks at her with his eyebrows raised.

“What was what?”

“You just suddenly pushed Y/n out of the room.”

Tony's mouth presses into a tight line as he gives her a confused look. “Never heard of her. Was there somebody here FRIDAY?”

“No, sir.”

Tony nods back at her with a satisfied look.

Crossing her arms, Natasha was about to argue when the lab doors opened up again.

Pepper walks into the room towards Tony.

“Y/n said you told her to get a ‘thing’ from me?”

Tony lets out a groan as he hangs his head. Sighing, he gestures to Natasha.

“Y/n met Natasha.”

Pepper lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Really, Tony? We talked about this. You can’t place all the blame on her.”

Natasha raises her hands to get their attention. “Can somebody please explain to me what’s going on?”

Pepper turns to her, a small apologetic look on her face.

“Tony thinks you are the reason why his assistants keep quitting.”

Natasha frowns at the accusation. “How is that my fault?”

Tony scoffs in disbelief. “FRIDAY, pull up the timeline.”

A holographic screen pops up between them showing the past year with certain dates highlighted. Tony points to one of the earliest dates in the year.

“Avery Grayson. She met you on her second day on the job. A week later she asks you out but you decline. She turns in her resignation the following week.”

Natasha raises her eyebrows at the information.

“That doesn’t prove—“

Tony interrupts her, “Quinn Turner. She confesses to you a month after your first interaction. Gets turned down too and then quits three days later.”

Tony brings up the two most recent dates.

“Same thing with Riley and Harper. It’s a pattern. They meet you, fall for you, get rejected, and then quit.”

Natasha looks over at Pepper, silently asking if he was serious. In response, Pepper gives her a resigned nod as she rubs her head tiredly.

Tony gets her attention when he points at her accusingly.

“Do you know how hard it is to find competent people who know how to handle this level of equipment?”

Natasha lets out a huff of disbelief, crossing her arms. She remembers his previous assistants. To be honest, most of her interactions with them were completely professional. She didn’t get close to any of them personally or showed any romantic interest, which made each of the confessions surprising to her.

Still, this doesn’t explain what he was trying to do with you. She raises her eyebrow at him.

“So your plan was to what? Hide your new assistant from me forever?”

“Not forever. Just until I can find someone for her so that she doesn’t fall for you.”

Natasha rolls her eyes at his ridiculousness. Focusing back on her original intention, she places her widow bite gauntlets on the work table.

“Can you just fix these for me? I have a mission in a few hours.”

“Fine, but you stay away from my assistant,” he warns.

Natasha heads toward the exit and waves her hand, dismissing his words. It’s not like she intends to make you fall for her, but she has to admit that she is interested to learn more about you.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

You look up from your sketches at the sound of the lab door opening and see the Black Widow stroll into the room. You give her a smile in greeting.

“Welcome back, Ms. Romanoff. Are you looking for Mr. Stark?”

She walks over to your workspace, leaning slightly against the table as she looks at you.

“Actually, I was coming to see you, and you can just call me Natasha. We got interrupted the last time we met.”

Nodding your head, you laugh softly at the memory.

“Pepper explained to me what that was about.” You give her a teasing suspicious look. “So are you here to make me fall for you?”

Natasha gives you an amused smile. Most people don’t usually get comfortable around her so quickly.

“Only if you want to,” she says nonchalantly.

You chuckle at her response.

“Unfortunately, you won’t be hearing a confession from me soon. I like my job here.”

Natasha feels a tinge of disappointment at your words, her smile dropping slightly. You don’t notice though since your attention had drifted to the widow bite gauntlets on her wrists.

“Speaking of, did you want me to take a look at that?” You can see that there was some damage from a fight probably during her recent mission.

Glancing down, Natasha shrugs. “I can do it later myself.”

“Well, that explains why I don’t see your stuff across my desk that often.” You raise your hand out to her anyway.

She stares at you curiously before slowly placing her hand in yours.

You let out a small laugh at her action. “This is nice, but I actually want the gauntlets.” You hold her hand gently in yours before turning it around to reach the clasp on the weapon.

Natasha tilts her head as she observes you. You were focused but gentle as you worked, and you didn’t show any signs that you were intimidated by who she was. In fact, you were pretty cute as you scrunch your face in concentration. She decides to tease you a little.

“You know, I don’t usually let people take things off my body until at least the second date.”

You remove the second gauntlet from her other wrist with a start before you see the teasing smirk on her face. You let out a small huff before refocusing your attention on your table.

“I see what Mr. Stark means when he said you were charming.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And what else did he tell you about me?”

“That you didn’t like meeting new people, though now I think that may have been a lie.”

Natasha shrugs before leaning in a little closer to you.

“It’s sort of true. I just prefer to meet people that I’m interested in.”

You turn away from her to hide the smile on your face, pretending to look for some tools.

The lab doors slide open as Tony walks in while reading the tablet in his hand. Looking up, he sighs sadly when he sees Natasha next to you.

“Did she get to you already?”

You give him a reassuring look. “No confessions from me. Natasha just needed some things fixed.”

Tony stares at the two of you doubtfully before pointing to Natasha.

“Don’t you have reports to do or something?”

Rolling her eyes, Natasha stands to leave. She turns to you with a soft smile.

“I’ll come visit more often now that I know you exist.”

You bite your lips to hide your smile as you watch her leave.

As Natasha exits the lab, she hears Tony’s voice call out.

“FRIDAY, can you restrict her access to the lab?”

“I’m afraid Ms. Potts has already denied that request, sir.”

Natasha smirks at the AI response. She should get something for Pepper later as thanks.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

As she said, over the following weeks, Natasha visits you often in the lab. Sometimes with some equipment that needed to be fixed. Other times just to talk. Later, when she finds out that you usually eat your lunch in the lab, she would also join you if she had the time.

You look up when you hear the doors open, already knowing who to expect. Natasha walks in, waving the take-out bag in her hands.

You groan in relief at the sight of her. “You are a lifesaver.”

You stand and grab the food from her eagerly before moving it to an area where the two of you can eat.

Natasha sits on the edge of your work table as she watches you set out the food.

“Well, I know how you get absorbed into your work and forget to eat,” she tells you knowingly.

Her eyes glance at the papers on your desk that you were previously working on. Most of them had rough sketches of designs for some of the equipment of the other Avengers. Her name on one paper catches her attention. Picking it up, Natasha examines the details curiously.

At the sudden silence, you glance up at her. You do a double take when you realize what she was looking at.

Over time, as you worked on her equipment, you’ve noticed that her current suit’s belt doesn’t hold much ammo or gadgets, so you had sketched some ideas that you had for her.

“That’s just some ideas of some upgrades that I had. It’s not really anything worth looking at.”

Natasha shakes her head in disagreement before handing the paper back to you.

“I like it. I’m sure Tony will get you the parts that you would need if you want to work on it.”

“Really?” you ask her, astonished.

She nods at you reassuringly before pushing you back towards the food.

“We can discuss it later, but first, let’s eat.”

A few weeks later, you completed your first prototype, and you were excited to show Natasha and test it out.

Natasha admires the new belt on the table. It was still slim and compact, but she can see where you had added extra slots for her weapons. You also included her signature red symbol on the buckle.

You were practically buzzing with excitement.

“I just need to see if there needs to be any more adjustments with the sizing.”

Without thinking, you grab her hand to pull her closer to you. You move quickly as you remove her current belt. Taking the new belt, your hands wrap around her waist as you grab one end before bringing it to her front and snapping it into place. You fidget with the belt, checking for any snags or looseness, totally absorbed in your work.

Natasha’s initial surprised expression melts into an amused and fond look on her face as she watches you. You were adorable when you concentrated on your work, and honestly, she’s not sure how much longer she can hold in her feelings for you.

After performing your final checks and detailing little changes that needed to be adjusted, you suddenly froze when you realized Natasha hadn’t said a word since you started.

Your eyes widened, mortified when you see your current position. Your body had moved closer to Natasha’s when you were making adjustments. One of your hands was still placed atop the belt while the other was resting against her stomach, and you could feel her toned body underneath your hand. You swallow nervously as you look up at her.

She tilts her head at you as you continue to stare at her.

“Everything okay?”

The closeness between your bodies was making it hard for you to think. Eventually, you were able to get your brain to function enough to respond.

“Yeah…all good.” You unconsciously lick your lips out of embarrassment.

You see Natasha's eyes flick down to your mouth at the action, and you feel your face heat up even more. You should definitely step away from her now. As you go to move, Natasha’s next words causes you to stop in surprise.

“Would you like to go out with me?”

Your eyes widen at her question, and you see a hopeful expression on her face as she waits for your response. Instinctively, you want to say ‘yes’ and close the distance between you two, but you stop yourself, hesistating.

Natasha sees the conflicting feelings on your face, so she decides to ease the pressure a little with some teasing.

“You know, according to Tony’s theory, since I’m the one who confessed, a rejection would mean that I would need to quit my job.”

You can't help but laugh at her reasoning before giving her a playful smile, teasing back.

“Well, we can’t have the Black Widow quitting over a failed confession.”

Natasha places her hands on your waist, pulling you in closer. She tilts her head at you in question.

“I haven’t failed yet. Technically, you never gave me an answer.”

You move your arms to wrap around the back of her neck as you pretend to think about your decision.

“So I still get to keep my job?”

Natasha nods reassuringly. “For however long you can stand working with Tony’s ego.”

You give her a fond smile.

“Then yes, I would love to go out with you.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Tony was throwing you a party to celebrate your first anniversary since working with the Avengers and him, even though you insisted that it wasn’t necessary. He disagrees, saying how nobody has lasted this long, so you relented.

Naturally, you went with Natasha as your date since you have been dating her for several months already. The only problem is that you forgot to update Tony about your new relationship.

When the two of you enter the party, Natasha leans down and whispers next to your ear, “I’ll go get us something to drink.”

With a light touch against your back, she walks away toward the bar.

You are lost in your thoughts as you admire her walk away, so you are startled when Tony slides in front of you, excitement in his eyes.

“Y/n! Good, I found you.”

You smile at him, used to his frantic energy by now.

“Hello, Mr. Stark, was there something that you needed?”

He waves his hand dismissively at you.

“This party is for you, and you’ve been working with me for a year now. I’ve told you to just call me Tony.”

You give him an apologetic look before asking him curiously.

“You said you were looking for me?”

Tony claps his hands at the reminder.

“Yes, I want you to meet someone. She’s a nice person, has a great personality, and she works as a pilot.”

You raise your hand to try and stop him. “I already have some—“

“Oh, here she is!”

You give him a tight smile as the woman approaches the two of you. Tony pats you on the back in encouragement, turning to leave.

“Alright, I’ll leave the two of you alone.”

“Wait, Tony—,“ you try to stop him, but he rushes away. Turning back to the woman, you give her a polite smile as she introduces herself.

Meanwhile, Natasha was standing at the bar, waiting for your drinks.

“I am the greatest boss ever,” Tony exclaims, sliding in next to her.

Natasha rolls her eyes at his words. Deciding to indulge him while she waits, she asks him to explain.

“How’s that?”

“I just found the perfect date for our favorite weapons techie.”

Natasha frowns when she realizes what he said. Turning around to look at where she left you, she sees that you were currently talking with a beautiful woman.

Her posture relaxes when she reads your body language. You had a polite smile on your face as you listened to the woman, but she could see how tense your body was, and your hand at your side kept fidgeting with your dress.

“Now I don’t have to worry about her falling for you,” Tony says smugly.

“No, we wouldn’t want that,” Natasha smirks as she turns back around to grab the drinks that the bartender just placed in front of her.

Tony notices the two drinks in her hands and raises his eyebrows at her.

“You have a date?”

“Girlfriend.”

Without explaining further, she heads back toward you. By the time Natasha reaches you, the other woman was already turning to leave, nodding at Natasha in acknowledgment.

You let out a breath of relief as Natasha comes back to your side. Thankfully, the woman was understanding when you explained the situation to her.

Natasha hands you your drink as she returns her hand around your waist, pulling you against her. She sighs in disappointment as she watches the woman leave.

“Here I thought I had the chance to be a hero and save you.”

You give her a teasing smile. “Maybe next time.”

Natasha presses a soft kiss to your lips in response before pulling away.

You tilt your head curiously at her. “What was that for?”

Natasha gives you an affectionate look.

“First, because I love you.”

Her expression shifts into a smirk.

“Second, is Tony freaking out?”

You look over her shoulders at the bar and see Tony gaping at the two of you, pointing accusingly at Natasha while Pepper holds him back from rushing over.

You turn back to her, giving her an amused look.

“He’s going to lock you out again.”

Natasha just shrugs, unbothered. “He can’t keep me away from you.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively at you. “He also can’t stop you from visiting me in my room during your breaks.”

You push her lightly before bringing her face close for a kiss.

When you accepted this job, you never thought you would end up in a relationship with the Black Widow. Then again you never imagine that she would end up falling for you.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romonoff fluff

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yanaromanov · 23 days

Text

my sweet assistant

- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader

part summary: you take a position in assisting professor romanoff after classes to make up for a missed assignment. your flustered state only continues as you’re forced to spend one-on-one time with her, even more so when her wife is introduced into the equation…

part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, minor death, funeral etc. minors dni

authors note: this took me a bit longer to write and release than i would have liked thanks to my broken arm and writers block so apologies for that. but even tho i kinda hate it, it’s here now, so i hope you enjoy! :)

part two of the inescapable love series

inescapable love series

･｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

11.5K words

People say life comes with its ups and downs, something you had come to learn was rather true, but why did it always seem the downs came at the worst of times? A call from your mother was never really a good sign to begin with, usually her nagging being the only thing waiting on the other end of the line, but this time when you picked up and heard what she had to say, not good turned to terribly bad. It wasn’t the extent of the problem as such that worried you, more so the timing. Your Russian class had an assignment coming up, due in less than a week, and thinking you had enough time to get round to it, you still hadn’t started. Something that would have been totally fine if not for your mom’s name popping up on your phone last night and sharing news that would throw your entire schedule off.

The way your mom had picked up the phone had immediately informed you something was wrong, but a death announcement was certainly the last thing you had been expecting to hear on a Sunday night. It was your grandmother, on your dad’s side. She’d passed away over the weekend, finally giving up on the hospice care she’d been dependent on for months. The news itself hadn’t been too much of a shock, the old woman’s health deteriorating for years, and it didn’t much upset you either. You’d never really been close to your grandmother, your brother being the one favoured from your family, keeping you distanced whenever you visited her house. Your teenage self had already mourned for the relationship you had never had and that felt more painful than the actual loss in front of you now.

The main thing concerning your mind now was how you were going to complete your assignment. On the phone, your mom had told you she’d already booked the flights for you coming home, prepared for the funeral just that week, a quick turn around due the arrangements been made in advance from the anticipation of her death. It would see you in England the entirety of the week, leaving tomorrow afternoon and not returning until late Friday evening. Even with the extra days you had at home, the funeral tea and family gatherings would no doubt leave you no time at all to complete your assignment.

You knew what you had to do now, had done it many times before for other classes, but something about this time felt more intimidating. As you sat in the lecture theatre, watching your professor teach at the front of the class, your heart pounded in your chest at the thought of asking for the extension. More time alone would have to be spent with your Russian professor, the last time still lingering unwanted in your mind. The thought of speaking to her one on one once more was enough to send your anxious mind into a frenzy.

Desperately, you tried to cling on to the reality of things as your lesson continued. It was the day of the week where your class would practice your Russian speaking, conversing with one another whilst Professor Romanoff would walk around, listening in and correcting any mispronunciations. In the end, it would build up to the speaking exam the end of semester held, a private conversation that each student would have with your professor which was then graded alongside your written tests.

The girl sat beside you had claimed the spot as your partner when the first speaking lesson had started up, thankfully not the same girl who’d passed you dirty looks after your perfectly scored paper. The two of you worked through the worksheet in front of you, sounding out the words and building them up into a conversation. Your partner seemed slower than you to grasp the concepts, but you found you didn’t quite mind, allowing your thoughts the moments in between to plan exactly how you’d make your request to Professor Romanoff.

When the class had finally drawn to a close, everyone began packing up their things, worksheets handed back down towards the front. Professor Romanoff stood against her desk, collecting papers as she shouted out across the clamouring hall. “Remember your assignment is due on Friday everyone. Do not use google translate. I can tell!”

It seemed your class wasn’t paying her announcement much notice, instead focused on making it out of the double doors and out into the corridor. Like you had done before, you packed away your things slowly, lingering in the row of seats until almost everyone had left the room. Only when the last few stragglers were close to the door, did you begin your descent towards the central desk. Professor Romanoff stood wiping clean the board once again, back facing you. This time, however, you cleared your throat to make your presence known. The woman’s face was slightly bewildered as she turned, melting away immediately as she spied you standing across the way, a smile appearing on her lips instead. “Miss Y/L/N,” she said, wiping the chalk dust away from her hands and turning back to close the distance between you. “Is everything alright?”

"Uhm, yes," you said nervously, watching as the woman came to stand in front of you. "Well...no, but-" You shook your head, attempting to dispel the anxious thoughts that clouded your brain. Fingers began to fidget as you looked back up at your professor with a nervous smile. "I was wondering if I could possibly get an extension for the assignment?" The redhead in front of you raised a single brow, looking inquisitive to your scenario and hence, drawing more of and explanation from your chest. "It's just my grandma passed away and I have to fly back to England for her funeral this week. I'm not going to be back till Friday night and with all the travelling and family stuff and jet lag, I probably won't have enough time to do it." Your hands gestured about, trying to find anything else to do rather than anxiously pick at your nail beds. "I don't need a long extension, maybe just till Monday? I can get it done over the weekend when I'm back."

The spill of words finally fell short in the silent room, your blurting echoing ever so slightly in the emptiness of the hall. Professor Romanoff stood in front of you, today wearing a matching black skirt and blazer, a white shirt neatly tucked in. "I'm sorry to hear about your grandmother." Your gaze raised up to the pair of green eyes as she spoke, a soft expression held between her features. "Are you doing alright?"

The question had came unexpectedly. You shook your head as you answered. "Oh yeah, I'm fine." You smiled sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders. "We were never close."

"Well," Professor Romanoff replied, gaze softening further. "I'm still sorry to hear about her." She passed you a gentle smile as she stepped towards her desk, leaning against the front of it like it seemed she had a habit of doing. When she looked back up at you, her expression had changed. "As for an extension..." Her emerald stare met yours, always seemingly able to make you shy away. "You're a good student Y/N, so I'd really like to say yes, but unfortunately I have a policy against extensions."

Your memory fleeted back to the first day of class, suddenly recalling the rules your professor had set out. Extensions would only be given to those with medical absence, provided they had a document signed by a health professional. Only remembering that now, you felt entirely stupid for asking for the extension in the first place. "That's right," you blurted. "I'm so sorry, I totally forgot. Listen, forget I even said anything." You adjusted the straps of your backpack as you made to turn your body towards the door. "I'll try get it done on the plane or something. Thank you anyway."

You made it about three steps away before you heard your name being called out from behind you. Slowly, you turned your shoulders, looking back at the woman who still sat against her desk. "Yes, Miss Romanoff?" you called in response. A single manicured nail raised up, the finger curling to beckon you back in the direction you'd came. Biting down on the skin of your cheek, you turned fully, slowly closing the gap that had formed between you and your professor. When you stood in front of her again, you began to rub one of your arms nervously.

Professor Romanoff inclined her head towards you, a faint smile on her painted lips. "I can't give you an extension but I can offer you an alternative. Some extra credit that will cover the assignment, worth the same percentage of your grade. And I'll even give you the full marks."

Your head angled in both curiosity and uncertainty. The prospect of the extra credit sounded like just what you needed, but you couldn't quite grasp the notion that your professor was suggesting. "Full marks?" you asked. "As in, a hundred percent on the assignment?"

A painted smirk pulled at the corner of your professor's mouth, her body leaning ever so slightly closer to yours. "Don't act like it's such a miracle, sweetie. We both know what you're capable of, hm?"

As her words hit you, you could immediately feel the warmth they brought to your cheeks. Face feeling flushed, you tried to distract your brain, unfocusing on the perfect pair of lips still smirking in your direction. "What would I have to do for the extra credit?"

Professor Romanoff sighed, adjusting herself on the desk. You diverted your eyes as her arms crossed her body, once again pushing her slightly-revealed cleavage up against her chest. "Well, my assistant for this year pulled out on me last minute, which has left me just drowned in work." Green eyes met yours as a wide smile spread across the redhead's lips. "So, just give me a helping hand after class for a few weeks and the credit is all yours."

This proposal seemed almost too good to be true. Simply helping out your professor in turn for a perfect grade? It almost didn't seem fair. As you thought over her offer, the idea couldn't help but make you feel a little flustered. After all it would entail spending time alone with the red haired woman, something that seemed to leave you an oddly ruffled mess. But the entire thing sounded far too good to pass up, an opportunity practically laid out on a silver platter. Sounding easy enough to follow through with, you nodded your head with a smile. "Yeah, I can do that."

The smile on Professor Romanoff's face widened at your agreement. "Perfect," she said, green eyes glinting. "Can I see you back here next Monday? Say...three pm?"

You nodded once more. "Yeah. That works for me."

"Alright then," the redhead replied. She stood up from her desk, smiling down on you from the height accentuated by her heeled boots. "Don't you worry your pretty head about the assignment and I'll just see you here next week."

The words seemed to wash over you with a flush, something igniting inside that you couldn't quite put a finger on. Nervously, you looked to the floor, picking at the ends of your jumper while Professor Romanoff moved to stand behind her desk, seemingly unaware of your heightened nervousness. Before you could properly formulate a response, the other woman was already speaking once more. "Go on then. Don't want to be late for your next class do you?"

Her words seemed to shake you back to the present, that nervous little smile appearing on your face again. "Right," you said, adjusting your backpack. "Thank you, professor."

She smiled back at you. "It's no problem, honey. Now run along."

You found yourself nodding as you turned to leave, urged on by her commands. A few steps away she called out to you. "Take care of yourself, Y/N."

You looked back over your shoulder, flashing a small smile. "I will Miss Romanoff. Thank you." And with that, you were walking out the door, headed towards your next class with you mind focused on what exactly your assistant duties with Professor Romanoff may entail.

———

"When are you back again?"

"Friday night. About nine-ish?"

You passed the raven-haired girl a quick glance over your shoulder as you continued to fold the items of clothing in your hand. A loud sigh filled the space as you heard Kate roll over in her bed, rustling the top of her sheets. "That's four whole days of you leaving me completely alone."

As you placed the last of your clothes into the open suitcase, you swiveled around to look at Kate. Your brow furrowed as you noticed your best friend sprawled dramatically across the covers. "Kate, you do realised we have other friends?" you replied with a soft sigh.

But it seemed the girl took no notice, throwing her hand up to cover her eyes as another noise of discomfort slipped from her lips. "I'm gonna look like such a loser at breakfast." The truth was that the pair of you did have more friends at university, with whom Kate could definitely speak to while you were away, despite how the majority of the time it was always just the two of you. This could be down to the fact you were the only ones still sharing a dorm on campus, most of your friends having moved out to apartments around the city. You and Kate had looked into that option but your loan wasn't enough to cover the rent, so you'd both settled to remain in the on-campus accommodation, still sharing your meals in the wide dining hall.

You sighed again. "I'm sorry my grandma dying is such an inconvenience to you." At that, Kate shot up in bed, immediately looking less irritated and instead concerned. The way you smiled playfully back at her, however, made her brows drop ever so slightly, the fear of her actions hurting you slipping away. You'd already told her you weren't all that bothered by the passing, more so annoyed by the bother of it all, but it seemed despite how dramatic she could be, Kate was still worried about your feelings. "Relax Bishop," you said, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. "You know I'm kidding. I hate the fact I'm going just as much as you do." With all the hustle of trying to get through your work that day, you hadn't had much time to think about the reality of going home. Now packing your things, the dread of it all was beginning to settle on your shoulders. Still, you forced a smile on your lips as you walked across to Kate's bed, sitting yourself down next to her. "I'm sorry I'm leaving but I'll make it up to you, yeah?"

Just then, a spark seemed to light up in Kate's eyes. She turned to you, a wide smirk plastered on her lips. "Will you come to a party with me?" The proposal was one Kate often brought up, and one that was just as often shut down. Whenever Kate was getting ready to go out for a night, you were always cooped up in your textbooks, ignoring her complaints of how you studied too much and focusing instead on memorising every piece of material on the paper. For three years, your best friend has had to drag you to every party you'd ever been to, sometimes even snatching the book from your hands and then pleading you with puppy dog eyes. Those same eyes looked at you now, silently begging.

"Fine," you said finally, causing Kate to throw her hands up in the air. You raised your hand before her excitement could get out of hand. "But only one and not until after midterms."

The girl looked slightly disheartened but her smile still remained wide. "Fine," she replied, looking to already be planning the event she'd drag to you in a few weeks time. As Kate settled herself back in her bed, you stood to cross the room, returning to your almost-packed suitcase. You placed the last item in one side - a long black coat Kate had let you borrow to wear to the funeral - then zipped up the first half. All the other half was missing was your toiletries bag, of which would have to wait until the morning to be packed. As you were closing things up, you threw a comment to Kate over your shoulder. "I spoke to my Russian professor today about that extension for the assignment, remember?"

You heard Kate's head turn towards you, becoming distracted from her party planning. "Oh yeah, what'd she say?"

As the final zip on your suitcase closed, you turned back around to your best friend. "She doesn't really do extensions so she said I can help out after class instead to make up my grade."

Kate's brow furrowed. "What, like an assistant?"

"Yeah, exactly. Hers apparently dropped out so I'm filling in for a few weeks." You bent down to push your suitcase under your bed, ready to go tomorrow morning, then stood again, shrugging your shoulders. "She said she'll give me the equivalent of full marks for the assignment."

"Wait, what?" Kate shot up in bed, her jaw hanging slack. "You just help her plan a couple lessons and get a free ride to a perfect score?"

You breathed out a laugh, not only at Kate's theatric tone but also at the improbable truth of the scenario. It hadn't really hit you until now how easy you had it, an exceptional gateway to an easy 'A'. "Yeah," you giggled out, taking a seat on your bed. "I mean, she said I'm a good student so she expected me to do well anyway." You tried to ignore the strange tingle in your head as you recounted your professor's words, instead focusing on Kate who flung herself up in her bed.

"Dude," she said, looking at you incredulously. Her eyes shifted, looking down to the floor. "Maybe I should have taken Russian this year."

Another laugh spilled from your lips as you stood, closing the gap between you and your best friend. "I think you should focus on the classes you're already taking." Your hand reached out for Kate's pulling her up from her bed before she could get a chance to reply. "Now, let's go get dinner. I'm starving."

———

The setting sun streamed in through the wide windows of Natasha's office. The entire room was painted in a soft orange glow, guiding the redhead as she finally began to pack up for the night. Today had been a long day for her, her daily schedule packed and evening full of essay marking that needed to be completed by tomorrow. Finally, Natasha had managed to get finished up, closing her laptop and packing away her notes for the night. She tucked them away into her bag to bring to work the next day before shutting off the lamp inside the room and retiring from her office for the night.

Her feet padded across the wooden floors as she made her way out of the home office. The sun's glow followed her, let in by the expansive windows her and Wanda's house contained. When she reached the living room, Natasha spied her wife curled up on the corner of their sofa, a blanket draped over her legs and an open book sat in her hands. Her footsteps were silent as she made her way over to the other redhead. Though she imagined her wife had still felt her approach, as she didn't flinch when Nat's hands came down for a hug from behind. Natasha's arms wrapped around her wife, a small hum escaping her lips as she pressed a gentle kiss to the pulse point of her neck. "Baby," Natasha whispered, her voice low. Wanda simply hummed in response, her eyes still focused on her novel, her attention only slightly skewed when Natasha leaned in closer, pressing more kisses down the skin of her neck.

"I need to speak to you about something." Natasha's voice remained low, her words fanning out on to her wife's collar bones. She'd been waiting for this moment now for a while, anticipating just the right time to bring up her scenario to her wife. The thoughts had been circling her head for a small while now, perhaps longer than she liked to admit, but she found she couldn't wait any longer to share.

"What is it, moya lyubov?" Wanda's eyes finally raised from her book, head turning over her shoulder to look up at her wife. Though, this position didn't last long, as Natasha lifted her legs and swung herself over the back of the couch, landing in a position beside her wife. This was a habit Wanda hated, forever telling Natasha to 'use her legs like an adult', but this time she didn't have time to pester the redhead as she'd already began to speak. "Do you remember that student we spoke about? The one that got the perfect score."

The slight look of annoyance from Nat's behavior was quickly replaced by an inquisitive expression as Wanda furrowed her brow. The redhead finally closed her book on her lap, sliding a bookmark into place. "Yeah, I do. What was her name again?"

"Y/N Y/L/N."

Wanda hummed, a small smiling appearing on her lips. "That's it. Cute name. What about her?"

Natasha inhaled, her mind passing over the already scripted conversation she'd created. "I spoke with her again today. Came in asking for an extension for an assignment." The redhead smiled, remembering the interaction from that morning. She took another deep breath before she uttered the next words from her mouth. "I think I've maybe taking a liking to her."

"Oh?" Wanda's eyebrows raised, her expression changing to one of surprise. It wasn't new that the couple were searching for someone else in their relationship, the openness of the topic having been in circulation almost since the two had first got together. But the surprise came from the fact Nat had perhaps found someone she believed could slot into their duo, her and Wanda's standards usually far too rigid to find anyone to spend more than a night with. If Natasha was bringing up a girl like this, she must have seriously considered the possibility of a longer association, and that thoroughly intrigued Wanda.

"Now," Natasha continued. "Of course I don't want to do anything we don't both agree on, but..." She paused for just a moment, smiling a little up at her wife. "I would be lying if I said I hadn't already been playing around with her. Just a little bit." Natasha held up her fingers, signaling the small amount of teasing she'd subjected her prized student to. "You know, I didn't want to come asking your permission for a girl who turned out to be a bore."

The more Natasha continued to talk, the more Wanda became interested and invested by the conversation at hand. She slowly slipped her book to the couch beside her, leaning in closer towards her wife. "And is she?"

A wide smirk appeared on Natasha's lips as she relished in her wife's question. "Not in the slightest." Her expression only deepened as she recalled the little moments of you she'd been observing in class. "She's so fucking cute," she said, stating the obvious right off the bat. "She's always early for class and always paying so much attention. She shows up in the sweetest little outfits, like she doesn't even know how good she looks." The redhead smiled as she remembered the sight of you in your small summer dresses or slightly oversized sweaters. "Oh," she said, reminded of her favourite bit of all. "And she has this adorable little English accent."

With the last of her wife's words, a similar looking smirk began to appear on Wanda's own face. "Well now I'm intrigued.”

Natasha smiled back at her words as she shrugged a shoulder. "As I said, I played around a little bit and Wands..." The redhead had to suppress a sigh as she reached for her wife's hand. "I just know how much fun she'd be," she continued, her voice almost a whine. "I mean, she gets flustered so easily. One little pet name and she's already hiding away her flushed face."

Wanda's smirk deepened as Natasha continued to talk, stirred further by the slight desperation she could hear in the redhead's voice. She had to wonder just how long she'd been wondering about this one student and just how much fun she was getting to have without her... "Go ahead, malysh," Wanda replied finally, squeezing her wife's hand gently. "I trust your instincts. You'll just have to introduce me sometime soon."

Natasha's brows shot up. "You're sure?"

"Yeah," Wanda chuckled back slightly, amused by the excitement underlying Nat's voice. When she spoke again, her lips had formed a devilish smirk. "It'll be fun. It's been a while since we had somebody to play with."

———

The funeral was awful. Of course, one never expects such an event to be the epitome of joy, but this particular funeral was like your own personally curated hell. Your entire family was gathered in one place, meaning not only were your parents’ critiques breathed down your neck the entire time, but they were also joined by those more distant. Grandparents and judgmental aunts seemed to team up on you, all obsessing over your university career and what your future plans were. Many pestered the question of your singularity, claiming that ‘a pretty young thing like you should have been swept up by a man a long time ago’. Unfortunately, the almost-compliment that could be found in their talk, was quickly diminished by the discussion of how it must be something wrong with your personality rather than your face, comments all whispered from where they thought you couldn’t hear.

There was no escape from the constant berating, your schedule full of family meals and teas, and far too lengthy conversations around the fireplace, of which you could not be excused due to your mother’s abhorrence of anyone ever thinking of her children as rude. To make matters worse, you were exhausted from jet lag and the flight, something certainly not helped by the endless hours of socializing and pressing on a smile for your family.

Still, you pushed through like the perfect daughter you always tried to be. You sat politely at the funeral, wearing an old black dress and Kate’s coat, the perfume of your best friend aiding a little to your torturous discomfort. Though your family cried, your eyes remained dry, silently staring at your feet and trying not to draw any attention to yourself. At the funeral tea, you shook hands and smiled softly at family members, answering any questions they asked with the grace your mother had forced upon your shoulders at a young age. Of course, she found her usual pride in parading you and your brother around like a pair of trophies she’d spent hours shining. The entirety of every event was exhausting.

Even at the will reading, there was no break to be given. Your late grandmother had graciously scattered her belongings to her loved ones, though seemingly biased to those who she deemed more palatable. Your brother received a chunk of her money alongside her old ring, something the family gushed over due to the prospect of his long-term girlfriend who he could now finally pop the big question to. Your rolled your eyes as they pandered over him, all blatantly dismissive of the old bible you’d been left, with your grandmother’s handwriting inside with a note of how she wished for it to be read out of at your wedding when you finally found yourself a suitable husband. You had simply rolled your eyes and shoved it to the bottom of your bag.

All that being said, it was a huge relief to you when you finally made your way back to the airport. Though you’d had to spend the journey constantly criticized by your mother about your uni work, as soon as you stepped on to the plane, relief was flooding over your shoulders. As the sky came to fill the widow, clouds passing by, you were more than grateful to be heading back to the true place you thought of as home.

Kate came to pick you up from the airport, hugging you immediately and beginning to rant about the idiots she’d encountered in the car park as she pulled your case towards the exit. The pair of you went straight to a mcdonald’s drive thru, your hunger unquenched from the bad aeroplane food you’d been offered. Fries and hamburgers were shared in the front seat of the car as you relayed back your awful week to Kate, telling her everything that you hadn’t even had the chance to text her due to your family’s never-ending nagging.

That weekend was very stressful. Due to the packed schedule you had followed back in England, you’d had next to no time to complete any of your work from that week. So, from morning until night, you cooped yourself up at your desk and ground it all out. At times, Kate had to drag you down to the hall for some food or persistently remind you to even go to bathroom. In the end however, you managed to get it all finished. By eleven o’clock Sunday night, you were finally all caught up from your missed classes and had completed all your deadlines. The light in the room were low, only your small desk lamp lighting up the space. Kate slept in her bed, hair fanning out across the pillows. You were quiet as you cleaned your space, eyeing the untouched plate of food Kate had brought up for you after you’d refused to go down for dinner. It was long cold now and you felt a little guilty throwing it out, but you were far too tired now to think about eating. Instead, you simply turned off the light and slid yourself into your bed, finally letting your mind rest and prepare itself to return to your regularly scheduled classes the next morning.

———

"Alright everyone, that's all for today's lesson. Are there any questions?"

Like always, the bustle began began your professor could even finish his sentence. Everyone was already packing away their things, drowning out the teacher's voice with their own hustle to leave. It happened almost every class, and almost every time you felt bad, one of the only people who remained still until they had officially dismissed you. But today, you found yourself following the crowd more than you usually would have. See, your professor had droned on a bit too long that afternoon, moving into the passing period you had between classes. Most times that wouldn't have been a big deal seeing as it was your last class of the day, but today was the day you were supposed to meet Professor Romanoff and thanks to your English professor's extensive elaborations, you were left with only a few minutes until you'd be late. So today you put your cares aside and as the class packed up, so did you, stuffing everything into your backpack and throwing it over your shoulder before joining the crowd exiting the lecture hall.

Your English building was on the exact opposite side of campus as your destination, so your feet held a quick pace as you flitted between the crowds of students on your way. Pathways were held up by casually conversing people, all relaxed now their days were over. They all annoyed you severely as they slowed down your journey, obviously uncaring that you still had places to be. By the time you had reached the building in which your Russian class was held, the clock was already a few minutes passed the scheduled time. You almost burst in through the doors of the hall, ever so slightly out of breath from your fast paced journey across campus. As soon as you entered the room, you spied the redheaded professor sat at her desk, head buried into her laptop. She looked up to you as you walked across the floor, nervously adjusting the backpack straps on your shoulders. "Hi," you breathed out, trying your best to seem casual despite your racing lungs. "I'm sorry I'm a little late. My last lecture ran over a little."

A pair of perfectly white teeth smiled back in your direction, Professor Romanoff looking you over. "Y/N," she said, her gentle voice falling upon your ears. Something about it in that moment made you realize you had almost missed it over your break, but the rational part of your brain soon took over and told you you were being ridiculous. "Don't worry about being late, you're barely two minutes over." She smiled again as you closed the final distance between you, moving to stand by the edge of her desk. She stood as you did, displaying today a pair of grey slacks and a soft black jumper, all adorned with delicate gold jewelry. Her smiling face looked down at you, that forgotten odd feeling of warmth spreading through your gut. "It's good to see you again. How are you? How was your trip?"

You ignored the sensation in your stomach as you smiled back at her. "I'm good. The trip was fine. A little boring but fine." There were many worse words to describe your trip than ‘boring' but you decide to settle for that, not wanting to bother your professor with the complicated details of your family and more so, simply wanting to leave the entire week in the past and not think of it again.

“That’s good,” Professor Romanoff replied with that same easy smile. “I’m glad to hear you’re alright.” Her hands lifted from the pockets they hid in, reaching out to open a drawer of her desk. You wondered for a moment what she might be looking for before she pulled out a small stack of papers, extending them out towards you. “These are some extra notes from last week’s lectures.”

You smiled, slightly surprised. “Oh, thank you.” Most of your university work could be found online for both absence and revision purposes, but it never was quite the same as attending the classes themselves. Usually you hated using just the online notes to catch up, never grasping the material as well as you’d like, but this weekend you’d had to make do. That was, of course, until Professor Romanoff handed you the extra notes. “That’s very kind of you.”

“Well,” your professor replied. “I wouldn’t want my best student falling behind, would I?”

Her words worked to form that warm sensation across your cheeks, the given title heating up your insides with flustering pride. You were grateful the woman had started to busy herself at her desk with something else as you tried to brush off her compliments as smoothly as possible, attempting to hide the flush of your skin.

“You can grab a chair from the side. Bring it over.”

You nodded, almost snapping back to reality once more with Professor Romanoff’s words. You placed your backpack down beside her desk, quickly slotting the extra notes into the large pocket before moving to grab a spare chair from the edge of the room. When you returned, your professor had seemingly found what she was searching for, a large stack of papers now sat in the centre of the desk.

“Sit,” Romanoff beckons with a smile, gesturing her hand towards the front of her desk. You pull up your chair, positioning yourself across from her own seated position. “These are tests I need marked. They’re all multiple choice and there’s a marking scheme.” The redhead lifted a single piece of paper, handing it over your way. “So you’ll just have to see if the letters match up on both papers. That sound okay?”

You nodded once more, her instructions seeming simple enough. “Yeah, sounds fine.”

“Great.” With a smile, Professor Romanoff slid the pile of unmarked papers across the desk towards you. She explained that if you needed any help, just to ask, and that she’d just be busying herself on her laptop. You nodded again, reaching into your backpack quickly for a pen before you began to work away.

It was an easy job really, simply matching the circled letters on the quiz papers to that of the marking scheme. In truth, it was almost relaxing to have something to do that didn’t require much brain power. Professor Romanoff sat across from you, typing away on her laptop. Occasionally, you’d look up to take a glance at her, catching moments of concentration or boredom on her face, but your eyes would never linger long, too scared of getting caught looking her way. She’d turned on the radio to fill a bit of the silence, music humming softly from a black stereo on the edge of the desk. All in all, the endeavour was a blessing in disguise - much simpler and easier than the effort the equivalent assignment would have took.

“You getting on alright, milaya?”

The voice brought you from the almost trance you’d put yourself in as you marked the set of papers. Your head rose from them, more than half the stack already complete as you smiled back at your professor. “Yeah, all good.”

She nodded, smiling at you with her perpetually perfect red lips. Under her gaze, you felt your eyes drop back to the papers, for some reason feeling entirely too see every time she looked your way. She went to turn back towards her laptop, your hand reaching out to continue marking, but a lingering question had been vibrating in your head. You had been too afraid to ask before, to be the one to break the soft silence of the room, but now was your opportunity. “Are these law papers?”

Professor Romanoff looked back at you, her expression soft. “Yes,” she said, simply. “I also teach a beginners law class alongside my usual Russian.”

You felt your eyebrows raise, unexpecting of her answer but also rather impressed. Now it made sense why the papers you were marking were not at all taking about Russian vocabulary but instead legal terminology.

“I studied a law major at college,” the red haired woman continued. “It was going to be my career until I decided to teach instead.”

“Huh,” you hummed, interested by the new information you were discovering about your teacher. “Why’d you decide to switch?”

Romanoff shrugged a shoulder. “Honestly, I love teaching.” A small smirk then appeared on her lips as she leaned in closer across the table. “Besides, my wife is a lawyer and just between me and you, I’m not sure I’d like her as my boss. She can be a little scary sometimes.”

There was a playfulness to her tone that you easily pick up on, the entire interaction meant as a jest, but somehow it left you with a strange feeling in your chest. You listened to your professor’s words, but your mind seemed to stick on one. Wife. In that moment, you suddenly realised you hadn’t pictured her being married - not that you had pictured her at all, your mind chided in defence. Now you quickly realised that she was indeed with another person, and not just that, but with a woman. Suddenly you had to push your mother’s berating thoughts from your head.

“So what about you?”

“Sorry?” you replied, mind crashing back to the present moment. Professor Romanoff looked back at you with an almost playful looking smirk. It only added to that strange feeling inside your chest.

“What’s your major?” the redhead elaborated.

“Oh.” You sat up straighter, trying to adjust your jumper in an effort to conceal the fact you’d gotten lost in your thoughts once more. “I’m an English major.” Romanoff raised a brow, the smirk on her face widening to almost a smile. You sighed softly, throwing your head to the side. “You can make the joke if you want, everyone does.”

An English girl studying English. You’d heard almost every variation of the joke, mostly from drunk boys at frat parties that thought they were the pinnacle of humour. Shouldn’t you already be an expert at that? Wait, they don’t teach you English in England?

You were expecting some similar turn of phrase to escape your professors lips, following in the footsteps of everyone you’d had this conversation with before. But to your surprise, she simply shook her head, frowning ever so slightly. “I think I’ll refrain,” she said, frown turning into the same wide smirk. “I hate being unoriginal.”

A laugh bubbled up in your throat, pushing out through a smile and into the air. Your professor followed, chuckling with you. After a moment, she stilled, looking back at you curiously. “So, tell me,” she said, leaning in closer to the desk. “What does bring you all the way to America to study?”

Because I can’t stand being at home with my parents. “Experience, I guess,” you said with a shrug, hiding away the truth behind a smile. “And I got a full scholarship when I applied so…” Your words died down, not quite sure how to finish your explanation.

Thankfully, your professor seemed to pick up the conversation easily. “A very smart girl, hm?” Her lips met as she hummed and it seemed you could feel the vibrations running down your spine. Your eyes fell back to your lap, trying to hide the awkward smile her praise had brought. You were unsure of what exactly you should do, contemplating if her question was rhetoric or not, and praying the former due to your inability to think of a response. Blessedly, Professor Romanoff cut through your mind’s distress with another question. “You’re in fourth year, right?”

Your eyes picked back up, meeting hers. “Yeah.”

She smiled, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared back at you intently. “And what exactly lead a fourth year English student to my beginner’s Russian class?”

You were getting a little bit of deja vu of the conversation you’d had with Kate multiple times. This time, you settled on the short answer. “I thought it sounded interesting,” you said simply, smiling as you shrugged your shoulders.

Professor Romanoff seemed amused by your answer. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

You felt yourself smiling back in response. So am I, your brain mused, but your consciousness refused to let anything move past your lips. Instead, Romanoff was picking up the conversation once again. “What’s your plans for after?”

Your eyebrows raised, suddenly surprised by her question. “Sorry?”

The redhead chuckled. “Once you graduate, sweetheart,” she said, voice sounding slightly amused. “What do you plan to do with the rest of your life?”

“Oh right,” you fumbled. You felt a little stupid for thinking she ever meant anything other than that. “My, uh…my mum wants me to go to law school actually…”

A red brow raised in your direction. “Oh yeah?”

You nodded, reminiscent of your previous chatter with your professor. A funny little coincidence that you two may be following a similar path. Although in that moment, you couldn’t help but be a little jealous. She had eventually fallen away from law, moving to a career she was truly passionate for. You were unsure if you’d ever get that opportunity. It had taken months just to convince your mother to let you major in English, claiming it was good for getting into law school after college. And after three years, you still hadn’t been able to convince her away from that same dream of hers, now unsure if you ever would.

“And what to do you want to do?”

“What?” Your professor’s words took you by surprise. When you looked up, it felt as if her eyes had seen straight through you, like she’d been able to hear your every thought.

“Your mother wants you to go to law school,” Professor Romanoff reiterated. “What do you want to do after you graduate?”

Your voice was unsteady in your response. “Go to law school?”

Professor Romanoff raised a brow as she angled her head. “Are you asking me?” All you could muster was a shrug, feeling suddenly very small in the large hall. You didn’t much like talking about what you wanted to do in your life, haven forgone the gesture years ago due to your mother’s constant coercion. But then your professor leaned in slightly, a small smile crossing her lips. “You can tell me the truth, sweetheart,” she said. “I’m very good at keeping secrets.”

The endearment fell on your already blushed cheeks. Most times you wouldn’t have said anything at all, hidden behind the lies your mother had constructed about your person, but something about the redhead’s smile almost drew the words directly from your mouth. “I guess if I could do anything, I’d be a writer,” you said, playing at the sleeves of your sweater.

“A writer?” Romanoff repeated, raising a pair of curious brows.

You felt yourself nodding as a small smile crept on to your lips. “Yeah. I love books and writing, and I guess it’s what I’ve wanted to do ever since I was a little girl.”

“Why don’t you do it then?”

Her words came as a shock, your system unsure of how exactly to respond. You shrank back under the redhead’s gaze, reminded of the words you’d been told so many times they were engraved into your mind. “It’ll be good for me to go to law school. My mum says I’ll get a better job.”

“Maybe…” Professor Romanoff hummed. Then her expression changed to something you couldn’t quite understand as she leaned in closer, her emerald eyes trained on your face. “But do you know what my birth mother used to say about me? She used to tell me I was useless little piece of shit that wouldn’t get anywhere in life.” Your eyebrows raised slightly in shock as you heard her words, especially on the fact she’d cursed so easily and how oddly good it sounded coming from her lips. Then her expression shifted again, an almost smugness taking over that drew your attention away from your own thoughts. “Thirty years later I’m a professor at one of the most prestigious universities in America. I’m married to a very successful lawyer, and living quite frankly an amazing life with a pair of adoptive parents who love me very much.”

Professor Romanoff finished with a small smirk, seemingly unaware of how her words settled on your shoulders. The entire statement was so weighted, so much shared about her as a person in so few words. Something in you felt slightly honoured that she could be that vulnerable around you, or perhaps her story wasn’t one she kept bundled up in her chest like you did, like a weighted lock on your heart. Still, you felt a sense of solace in learning more about your professor, a sense of trust being built in up inside. Her smiling eyes met yours as she leaned in even further on the desk. “Don’t let people who don’t know the real you keep you from what you want. We only get one life, Y/N. Don’t waste it trying to be someone you’re not.”

Her words settled in your stomach with an odd sensation. Her reassurance felt like another brick added to that wall of trust, perhaps her intention to try and learn more of your story. But maybe that trust wasn’t quite strong enough yet.

You shied away, unwilling to share more of your story despite how open Romanoff had seemed, years of criticisms sitting heavy on your shoulders. “Maybe,” you said lowly, picking up your pen once again. But you knew you’d never truly be able to follow through with what she was proposing you should, knew your future fate was already sealed by the woman who’d brought you into this world. She’d have a perfect daughter with her perfect career and wouldn’t settle for less, no matter how it made you feel. For now, all Professor Romanoff’s words could provide was a little fuel to that already dying fire of a dream inside your heart.

The pair of you quickly fell back into the steady silence of your work after your conversation, you pen dotting over papers as your professor turned back to her laptop. The radio played quietly in the background as you tried to push whatever words lingered in your head, both from your mother and the redhead in front of you, too many feeling provoked from the subject to allow you to focus properly. Dispelling them from your mind, you trained your eyes on the marking schemes in front of you, though having some of the answers memorised by now, and continued to work away at the stack of tests on the desk.

Time passed quickly once more, your speed increasing as the papers became more familiar in your hands, easily noticing the same mistakes made over and over. Occasionally you heard Romanoff begin to hum along to a song on the radio, focusing momentarily on her soft voice before refocusing on your work. In your mind, you became determined to finish them as quickly as you could, absentmindedly hoping to impress the woman they were for.

You were almost finished your task, down to the very last paper when a shrill sound cut through the soft atmosphere of the room. Both you and your professor’s heads shot up from your work, eyes turning to your backpack from where the loud ringtone emanated. Shit, you thought, obviously accidentally turning on the ringer that you always kept silenced.

“I’m sorry,” you said, glancing over at your professor in slight fear of her reprimand. But in return, you were only met with a soft smile.

“Don’t worry, milaya,” Romanoff replied gently. “This isn’t class time. You can answer your phone.”

Relieved by her answer, you let out a soft sigh. Reaching over, you began to dig through your bag to find your mobile, the nonsensical tune still ringing out. With no suprise, when you found it, Kate’s name and profile picture covered your screen. Quietly, you apologised again before accepting the call, slightly turning away in your chair as you held your phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N!” Kate’s voice replied back from the other end of the device. She sounded slightly off but you couldn’t quite tell why.

“Are you okay? What’s up?”

A small sigh sounded in your ear. “Okay, please don’t get mad at me again but-“

You were replying with a sigh of your own before Kate could even finish her sentence. “You forgot your key again, didn’t you?”

“I’m so sorry,” the girl on the end of the other phone pleaded.

You sighed again, shaking your head. “Kate, how many times-“

“I know! I know,” she cut off. “I’m the worst person ever. But I slept in this morning and just forgot to put it in my bag. I’m sorry.”

Your sigh turned less frustrated. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” At your core you weren’t a confrontational person. You could never stay mad at anyone for long, especially Kate.

“Well, I came back to the room and you’re not here,” your best friend continued through the phone. “I thought you were finished english at three?”

“I am,” you replied. “But I’m helping out Professor Romanoff, remember? I’m in her class right now.”

You could hear Kate’s realisation through the call. “Shit. I am so sorry.” There was a pause. You could picture Kate dancing on the heels of her feet, the same way she did every time she needed to ask you a favour. “Uhm, could I possibly swing by and pick up your key then? Please Y/N, I really need to finish my computing assignment. It’s due at five.”

If there was anyone who would leave their work until one hour before the deadline, it was Kate. Another soft sigh escaped your lips. “Fine.”

Kate’s smile could practically be heard through the phone. “Thank you! What room are you in?”

“Language building, room ML4.”

“Okay,” Kate replied. “I’ll be right there. You’re the best, I love you.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little as you responded. “Love you too.”

With that, Kate hung up the call. You pulled your phone away from your ear, switching it off and throwing it in your pocket as you turned back in your chair. “I’m so sorry,” you began, facing back to your professor. “It’s my roommate, Kate. She’s locked herself out again.”

Romanoff raised a curious glance. “Again?”

“Bad habit.” You smiled back sheepishly, shrugging your shoulder. “She’s just going to stop by and pick up my key, if that’s alright?”

The redhead smiled back at you. “Of course. That’s perfectly fine.” A small sigh of relief escaped your lips, glad that the encounter wouldn’t be a problem. “But I think we’re actually almost done here,” Romanoff continued. “How are you getting on with those papers.”

“Oh, yeah,” you replied, pulling yourself back towards the desk and the stack of papers sat atop of it. “I’m actually just on the last one.”

“Well if you just finish that up, you can run along with your friend when she gets here.”

“You’re sure?” you replied, looking up. You didn’t want Kate’s endeavour to disrupt any of the help your professor needed. But the redhead simply nodded in response.

“I’m sure, Y/N.”

“Okay then,” you responded, nodding your head softly. A small smile was passed between the two of you before you were grabbing your pen once more, reaching out to finish marking the final test in the stack. Your hand moved quickly as you corrected any of the mistakes, flicking through the sheets of paper at an impressive rate. It was just as you were marking the last question that the noise of the hall doors opening drew your attention.

Clamouring in, Kate appeared inside the hall, her backpack momentarily getting caught on the handle before she was able to free herself. She stood sheepishly inside the room, looking across the way and spying you and your professor sat at the desk. “Uhm, hello,” the girl announced. You could tell she was trying to play it cool but she had that same almost awkward look she got whenever a girl she liked try to talk to her. “I’m, uh, Kate Bishop. Y/N’s roommate.” Her finger pointed to you, as if trying to prove she hadn’t barged in for no apparent reason.

Professor Romanoff had stood from her desk as Kate had entered, her hands finding a place resting inside her pockets. Now, she smiled across at her. “Yeah, she mentioned.”

Kate gave that awkward little laugh of hers and you had to refrain from not giggling at her yourself. “Sorry to just barge in on you guys. Are you still…” Her hands gestured towards you and the desk, trying to gage where you were with the work.

But Romanoff simply shook her head in response with a short smile. “No worries, Miss Bishop. We were just finishing up.”

Kate’s eyebrows raised. “Great,” she replied, sticking one of her thumbs up.

You had to stifle your laughs at her awkwardness. Was this how she interacted with all of her professors, or just the ones she didn’t know? As you hid your smile, you tidied up the stack of papers on the desk, piling them up neatly before rising to your feet. “Okay, Miss Romanoff,” you said, slightly pushing them in her direction. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do for you?”

The woman turned back to you with her gentle smile, her voice soft. “That’ll be all for today, Y/N.”

“Okay,” you replied, adjusting your jumper as you reached down for your backpack, throwing it over one shoulder. “Well, thank you again for this.”

Romanoff smiled. “No, thank you. I’d be drowning in work without your helpful hands.” A smirk seemed to form on her lips as she sent an emerald wink your way.

The action left you suddenly stuttering for the right words, embarrassingly affected by such a simple action. “Right,” you finally managed, voice jumbled. “I’ll uh- see you on Wednesday?”

Thankfully Professor Romanoff didn’t seem too bothered by your flustering state, if anything you might have said she even looked amused. “I’ll see you in class, Y/N,” she said, smiling down at you.

You returned the gesture as you turned away, walking to close the distance between where you and Kate stood. As you met the raven-haired girl’s side, a voice called out to the both of you. “Have a nice night, ladies.”

You turned briefly to Romanoff, smiling as you and Kate hummed a thanks in unison. As you passed through the doors to the hall and exited into the corridor, you felt your shoulders loosen ever so slightly, that perfect emerald stare still lingering in your mind. You couldn’t quite understand why you left that class always feeling so worked up.

This time, however, there was little space for you to think about it, as merely a few steps down the hallway, Kate was grabbing hold of your upper arm. “Holy shit, that’s your Russian professor?”

You turned quickly to your best friend, both startled and shocked by her sudden comment. “What? Yeah?”

Kate breathed out a laugh. “Y/N, you never told me she was hot as shit.”

“What?” you stuttered, taken about by Kate’s choice of words. “She’s not- I mean -I-I never noticed.”

The girls hand shook your arm slightly as the pair of you continued to walk. “Never noticed? Y/N, you must be blind because that was one of the most attractive women I’ve ever seen.”

The words come as a bit of shock, not expecting Kate to think so highly of the woman you’d been spending the last weeks of lessons with. The raven-haired girl began to mumble on about how she should have taken Russian and how it was unfair how she always got the old, ugly professors. But in all honeslty you weren’t paying her much mind, instead focusing on the words that had spilled from Kate’s mouth previously. Sure, Professor Romanoff was a nice-looking woman, you’d noticed that the first time she’d walked into the room, but that didn’t mean you should be attracted to her. That was wrong, she was your teacher, she was married for god’s sake. You shouldn’t be thinking about her in that way. You weren’t thinking about her in that way. Sure, she made you blush every time she spoke to you, and her stare made a strange warmth pool in your stomach, but that didn’t mean you found her attractive. Right?

———

Term continued on with its usual snowballing effect. The next couple of weeks began to fill up with more and more work as you progressed further into the year. You and Kate spent many of your time outside of lessons bundled up in the library, spending hours revising for your upcoming midterms. The pair of you were also beginning to write your final dissertations, the main project that would lead to your graduation at the end of the year. You'd had your topic picked for months and had already started your research over the Summer, which left you room to help Kate find something she could write about, having struggled finding a topic she didn't find extremely boring.

Your usual meal time chatter turned away from mindless gossip and instead to lesson content, both of you complaining about how many assignments you had due. The carefree start of term was officially gone and the usual endless list of deadlines had crept back up on you just like it always did. Luckily for you, you'd managed to maintain the rigidness towards studying you'd possessed since doing your exams in secondary school. You could maintain focus for hours, staring at your laptop or notes until everything was photocopied into your mind. Sure, it sometimes meant you'd miss a meal or a few hours of sleep, but it was all worth it for the perfect grade you were determined to achieve in the end.

Your sessions with Professor Romanoff continued on over the next couple of weeks too, still just an hour after your final class on a Monday. You'd offered her more help if she'd needed it but the redhead had politely refused, claiming she didn't want you wasting your time when you had exams to study for. In fact, she told you that she'd only require your help for a few more weeks, just up until the midterm, then you were free to go with that easy 'A' tucked into your pocket. Surprisingly, when you heard the news, you found yourself feeling slightly saddened. Over the time you'd spent with Professor Romanoff, you'd rather enjoyed yourself. It wasn't that the work was particularly exhilarating or you two ever did much other than look at papers, but the small moments you'd been able to find in between had been rather pleasant. Whether it was the soft lull of the radio music that you both would hum along to, or the small conversations she'd have with you about your home or your studies, the time you spent with the redhead somehow always left you with a warmth in the pit of your stomach.

One particular rainy Monday afternoon, the pair of you were comfortably sat at her desk in your usual positions, your chair across the way from hers. As she often did, Romanoff typed away on her laptop, while you sat stapling together test papers for her advanced Russian class, having previously just photocopied the stack. The paper was still warm against your skin as you organised them into the correct order, the feeling almost soothing you into a trance-like state. You hadn't even noticed it at all until it was suddenly shattered by a soft sound echoing through the room.

Your head picked up, readjusting itself to the real world before turning to the right where the sound emanated from. The sight that befell upon you caused your brows to raise ever so slightly in surprise. As the door to the lecture hall swung closed, a tall, unfamiliar, but smartly-dressed woman entered through them. Her heels clicked confidently across the floor, eyes trained on your professor who sat at the desk. You watched as the redhead stood when the woman reached her, smiling softly. "Detka, hi." Romanoff placed a small kiss on the woman's cheek as they hugged briefly.

"I tried to call but it went straight to voicemail," the other woman replied. She stood a few inches taller than Professor Romanoff, her hair a lighter shade of red straightened almost perfectly down her back. She wore a deep copper suit with a crisp white shirt, a designer handbag thrown over one shoulder. In all honesty, you couldn't tell if she'd came straight from work or a catwalk. When her body turned to stand side by side with your professor, you noticed her eyes shimmered down at you with a soft olive green. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise you would still have company."

At that, you noticed Professor Romanoff turn towards you, as if she had just remembered you were there. She smiled as she gestured to the taller woman. "Y/N, this is my wife, Wanda."

Right, wife. The idea she'd slipped a few weeks ago had almost left your mind entirely. Now that said woman was standing directly in front of you, looking down with an expression you couldn't quite read. "So you're the star pupil my wife has been telling me about, hm?"

Her voice was playful when she spoke, but at the same time low and almost sultry. Everything about it, including her words, left you stuttering over what to say. Had Professor Romanoff really been speaking about you to her wife?

"This is she," the redhead replied, covering for your inability to form a full sentence. She looked back at you with that same easy-going smile that seemed to make you shift in your seat.

Wanda passed you a similar expression as she inclined her head towards you, smirking just slightly. "Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Thankfully, in that moment, your ability to speak seemed to return. "It's nice to meet you too, miss."

A small chuckle escaped the older woman's lips as you spoke. She glanced at Natasha, the pair sharing a look you couldn't interpret, before her sparkling eyes were back on you. "Oh please, honey. You can just call me Wanda." Just then you realised it wasn't only your professor's use of nicknames that seemed to send a shiver down your spine, Wanda's words setting your nerves on edge as you felt the heat flush to your cheeks. You looked down to your lap in an attempt to hide it, not wanting either woman to see your embarrassed state. From the corner of your eye, however, you saw Wanda wasn't going to let you hide that easily. She sat herself on the edge of the desk, leaning in closer to you and the stack of papers close by. "Working hard, are we?"

You looked back up to meet her eye, the action seemingly stripping away your speech once more. Thankfully, your professor stood up to answer for you. "Just getting some papers organised for my lesson tomorrow," she said, sitting herself down at her chair once more. Her eyes met her wife's. "Sorry, I didn't realise we'd run so late." Just then, you assumed why Wanda had shown up so unnanounced. Professor Romanoff had mentioned in passing that her wife would sometimes meet her after work, meaning that your sessions couldn't run any later even if she did need the extra help you offered.

"No, need to apologise," Wanda replied with an easy smile. "I don't mind sticking around while you guys finish up. Especially when your little assistant is so cute." Her eyes turned to you, a smirk playing on her lips. The entire action seemed to freeze you in place, entirely unsure of what to say or do.

"Cat gets her tongue sometimes."

Your eyes flicked to your professor as she spoke, a very similar smirk appearing on her face to match her wife sitting next to her. The taller redhead hummed lowly at her comment, her gaze tracing over you. Sat in that chair, you felt entirely too seen. Your eyes darted around, unsure of where exactly to look while the pair of older women watched you. If there was something you were supposed to say, you mind could not conjure it. In that moment all you could do was sit awkwardly as two pairs of green eyes traced your every movement.

But then, a familiar tune rang out to your rescue. When before you'd cursed your forgetfulness to turn off your ringer, now you silently thanked yourself. Your eyes rushed to your backpack, then quickly back to your professor and her wife. "I'm sorry," you stuttered out. "Could I?"

"Go on, milaya."

You tried your best to ignore your professor's comment as you reached into your backpack for your phone, quickly holding it up to your ear. To no surprise, it was a familiar voice singing a familiar tune. Still, you found the situation grateful for its diversion from the stalemate conversation you'd been stuck in beforehand. As you hung up the call a minute later, you turned back to the desk with a sheepish smile. "It's Kate, she's locked herself out again."

Professor Romanoff raised a perfect brow. "That really is a bad habit of hers, hm?"

You fought back a small chuckle at her words, surprised she even remembered you'd said that. "Yeah," you smiled back, then dropped it into a small frown. "I am so sorry-"

Before you could even finish your sentence, the redhead was holding up her hand to stop you. "Don't worry about it, milaya. You can run along. I'll catch you in class on Wednesday."

Your eyebrows raised, not wanting to be an inconvenience to her yet again. "You're sure? I can easily-"

"I said it's fine, Y/N," Romanoff reiterated, her voice coming out more stern. It wasn't quite angry, just firm, but it was enough to shut your mouth right up. You looked back, eyes wide, afraid that you'd annoyed her by leaving early twice due to your roommates negligence. But at your response, the redhead simply smiled down softly at you angling her head towards the door. "Go on. I can handle the rest."

You found your head nodding almost on its own accord, directed by not only your professor's watchful eye but now that of her wife's too. Your words came out little and few, a mumbled thank you and another apology spilling from your lips as you packed up your bag and threw it over your shoulders. One last reassurance and smile sent you walking out the door, headed back to your dorm where Kate would be waiting for you. As you went, you were hyper aware of the two sets of eyes trained on your back, picturing the two redheaded woman still sitting at the desk watching you walk away. What you weren't exactly aware of was how their gaze dropped even lower, both staring at the short black skirt you'd decided to wear that day, watching how the material grazed lightly against the back of your tight-covered thighs. When you exited out the door, you couldn't see the way the taller redhead turned back to her wife, looking down at her from where she still sat on the desk, a wide smirk appearing on her face as she bit into a perfectly painted lip. You couldn't see the way the pair looked at each other, leaning closer in, nor hear the words Wanda uttered back to her wife before their lips met in a kiss.

"You're right, she is cute. Let's keep her."

#inescapable love au #professor natasha romanoff #lawyer wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader #wanda x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #platonic kate bishop x reader

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natsarrownecklacx · 5 months

Text

Ms Ceo And Her Assistant

Wanda Maximoff x Reader Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count- 1,475

Summary- Your Wanda’s girlfriend, her toy, but she’s too busy to play with you, so she asks her assistant for help.

Warnings- Smut, minors this fic is not for you, edging, dom / sub dynamics, mommy Wanda, mean Wanda, overstimulation, mentions of punishment, sharing, switch Nat

2K Follower Celebration

ⴵ <3 ᗢ <3 ⴵ <3 ᗢ <3 ⴵ <3 ᗢ <3 ⴵ <3 ᗢ <3 ⴵ <3

There isn’t much in this life that Wanda Maximoff loves more than her job.

She gets to boss people around, call them on their half assed or lazy shit without fear of repercussions, make thousands of dollars each week and that’s not even a sliver of why she loves it so much.

In essence though, if she had to boil it all down to one particular thing, Wanda would say it’s the power that she loves most.

Owning and running one of the leading technology companies in the world comes with quite a bit of power, along with a reputation to enhance it.

She loves the confidence it brings her. The control she has over others, it’s exhilarating, it’s addictive. She’s not sure she’ll ever get enough of it.

That’s why, when she met you, she knew she would never leave you. Just a poor little baby in need of a mommy, a strong dominating hand to guide you through life in every way possible.

You offered her an outlet for all her pent up energy, a place for all her needs and desires to not only be fulfilled but deepened.

You loved the way she treated you. Loved when she would edge you for hours, under the guise of teaching you patience. Or bend you over her knee and spank your ass raw, her way of “teaching her baby how to behave properly.”

Or when she’d make you cum over and over again for hours, purely for her amusement.

You adored soft moments with her, when you’d curl up on the couch, her hand running through your hair mindlessly as you watched your favorite show.

Or then after care she gave you after each and every session, when she’d treat you so gently.

You took it all from her willingly, the good and the bad, knowing that you wouldn’t know what to do without her. That you love her. Need her. More than you could ever want or need for anything else.

Right now Wanda has you sitting next her in her office. Your legs are forced apart, tied to either side of the chair she lured you into with the false hope of a reward.

She’s had you spread open for her for hours, tears streaming down your face and your legs quivering pathetically as she edges you, rubbing her fingers tortuously over your bundle of nerves, pulling you right up to the edge each time before pulling away entirely and delighting in the desperate moans and whimpers that leave your mouth at being denied.

“Please.” You beg, after your eleventh time of being edged by the older woman.

Your slick has long overrun your folds, now spread over the inside of your thighs, down the chair and pooling below you, making wet noises as you try to squirm and grind into the plastic surface, desperate beyond belief for any sort of relief.

“Mommy it hurts.” You whine, feeling frustration build inside of you when she doesn’t so much as shift her gaze from her laptop screen to you. The entire time she’s been torturing you she’s been on a business call.

She has you sitting just out of sight of the camera, but close enough that her wandering arm doesn’t cause suspicion when she moves to touch you.

Her mic is muted, her role in this meeting being to mostly listen and observe, only having to drop an option here and there. You know better than to make any noise when she speaks, the spanking she gave you last time flashing in your memory every time she hits that unmute button.

“Quite, brat.” She snaps, turning her attention away from the screen for half a second. “Mommy is busy. I’ll deal with you later.”

And usually that would be enough. The promise of her undivided attention, good or bad, would be enough to placate you. But not this time. This time the need burning inside you is pushing you to beg for more, to demand more to sate the hunger inside you.

“Mommy, I need it.” You push, seeing the anger and slight surprise in her eyes at the fact that you didn’t quieten down when she’d told you to.

“Are you that desperate for it?” She scoffs, moving her eyes to the pool of arousal between your legs.

You nod feverishly, more pleas and promises to be good falling from your lips.

“Fine.” She answers and you swear you can feel yourself deflating in relief only for it to be replaced by confusion when Wanda calls for her assistant instead of signing off her call.

“You called for me miss?” The red headed woman asks, standing in the now open door of Wanda’s office.

You can see she’s trying not to look at you, so can Wanda, a smirk lining her face as she tells her assistant to enter the room and close the door behind her.

The redhead does so, keeping her eyes locked on Wanda as she crosses the room, intent on not getting herself into trouble by allowing her eyes to drift to you.

“Is there anything I can help you with Ms Maximoff?” She asks, and the sultry tone of her voice has you whimpering, so desperate that the slightest thing sets you off.

The sound takes the other woman by surprise, her eyes darkening as she instinctively snaps her gaze toward you. Only for her to realize her mistake when her green eyes meet your pleading ones and she looks away.

“There is actually, thank you, Natasha.” Wanda says, leaning back in her chair and nodding towards you. “As you can see my little pet here is quite needy. I am, however, very busy at the moment.”

Natasha nods along, thinking maybe she would ask her to untie you from the chair, allowing you to take care of yourself.

Or maybe to wheel you into the room conjoined with Wanda’s office, where she couldn’t hear you.

“I need you to take care of her.” Wanda says, so nonchalantly, Natasha thinks she must have misheard her.

“I’m sorry?” Natasha asks, doing her level best to seem professional, even in these circumstances.

Wanda narrows her eyes at the woman, only for them to round again when she hears you moan, having accidentally jerked your hips forward and rubbing your clit against the chair.

“My pet.” Wanda says, flicking her eyes toward you in recognition. “Is a desperate little slut.”

Natasha darts her eyes toward you, unable to stop herself from licking her lips as her eyes drop to the mess between your legs.

“I need you to fuck her.”

Natasha swallows and flicks her eyes toward you again. She can smell your arousal from where she’s standing.

You whimper when her eyes meet yours and you try fruitlessly to grind down on the soaked surface of the chair, unable to find the right spot to make it feel good.

Fuck. She wants nothing more than to touch you. Your thighs look so soft, so plush. She wants to feel them squeeze around her head while she eats you out like a woman starved.

She wants to make you moan so loudly, hear you cry out for her. Feel your body tremble as she makes you cum again and again until you’re pushing her away, begging her for a reprieve.

“Well?” Wanda say’s impatiently, her eyes back on her laptop and the meeting taking place on the screen.

“Ms Maximoff, I don’t think this is appropriate.” She says, in a last stitch effort to keep her professionalism intact.

“Do you like having a job here, Ms Romanoff?” Not bothering to look up from her screen, as though Natasha’s defense borde her.

“Yes I-“

“Do you want to keep your job here?” She taunts, keeps her voice scarily level.

“Yes, Ms Maximoff.” Natasha answers, looking away in embarrassment, feeling like a scolded child.

“Then get to work.” Wanda commands, flicking her wrist in your direction.

Natasha nods and makes her way over to you. Her eyes zeroed in on the mess between your legs. Fuck you look good.

“Don’t ask her what she wants.” Wanda orders, noticing how Natasha stands hesitantly in front of you for a few seconds too long. “Fuck her however you want, she’ll take it like the good little whore she is, won’t you baby.”

You swallow nervously and look toward Wanda. “Yes, mommy.”

“Good.” Wanda says, returning her eyes to her laptop. “Now be a good slut for Natasha, baby and do as she says.”

Natasha takes a moment to look you over, her eyes visibly darkening at all the possibilities running through her mind.

“Anything I want?” She asks over her shoulder, refusing to take her eyes off of you.

Wanda smirks as she replies, intrigue building inside her.

“Anything at all, Ms Romanoff.”

ⴵ <3 ᗢ <3 ⴵ <3 ᗢ <3 ⴵ <3 ᗢ <3 ⴵ <3 ᗢ <3 ⴵ <3

A/n- My first WandaNat fic ( I think )

#natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff smut #wanda maximoff smut #Wanda Maximoff x reader smut #wandanat smut #WandaNat x reader smut

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abbyromanoff · 7 months

Note

Hello bestie! I hope you’re doing better <3

This is only a request if they’re open, if not enjoy the thots!

Stepmom!Nat finding reader humping a couch or anything in the area to get off cause her one night stand left her horny. R’s mom is out of town and Nat starts getting hard and realizes it’s now or never to have and cum inside her stepdaughter.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 1956

WARNINGS: step parent/step child relationship, cheating (Nat is married to R’s mom, talks of unfulfilling marriages, Nat has a dick, smut obvi, jealousy, hook ups, 69’ing, masturbation, cunnilingus, mentions of anal, blowjobs, denied orgasm, praise, degrading, age gaps (legal), R is 19-20 ish and Nat is late 30’s - early 40’s, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

She listened with a scowl as the bed from your room creaked, small moans being heard through the wall. This wasn’t fair, how could you do this to her? How could you bring a girl home, have a rushed introduction between her and Nat, and then disappear into your room where you let her touch you? She was the one meant to do that, she was the one meant to take your innocence and ruin you for anyone else, yet here you were with another.

She wasn’t able to deny the fact that your small moans turned her on, but she could tell they were fake. She could differentiate the silent, hidden sounds you’d let out while calling her name as your fingers slid in and out of you quickly from this. You were most likely imagining her, which was the reason you kicked the girl out only a few moments later.

She shouldn’t be feeling this way, you were her stepdaughter, her wife’s child. But she never truly loved your mom, she was rich and alone and seeking for any sort of love that your mom bombarded her with, she thought that’s what always happened. She thought it was normal to grow sick of your lover, to dread them coming home from work, to deny them constantly of sex and only use it as a way to get off. She never knew true love, and she blamed that on her parents. But she wanted it, she wanted to love that woman so badly, yet over time she realized it wasn’t that she craved her, she craved the person she created.

Her sleepless nights were caused by your lingering voice, the images of you beneath her, and the desire to kiss your plump lips. You constantly were bringing home someone else, and it took everything in her not to rip you away from them and have you for herself. She had self-control, her job required such, but with you it was a different story. She wasn’t able to focus at work, she’d toss the papers across the room and throw her head in her hands. But then you’d arrive.

You begged for a job there, to be her assistant or lower-class worker stating you needed the money desperately. She wasn’t able to deny your pleading eyes or the warm feeling in her chest. You’d bring her lunch oftentimes before, but having you work for her full-time was a dream come true. She would more than likely struggle even more to keep her composure, but she lost all care for that months ago.

The door slammed shut and she assumed your one-night stand finally left, which took long enough. She was planning to rush into your room and finally take what was hers, even standing right in front of the entrance with a fist to the door. Then she heard a small buzzing. The door was cracked open just a tiny bit, she guessed the girl was too lazy to even close a door properly but she couldn’t have been more thankful. She lowered her arm and listened closely, pressing her ear against the hardwood and biting her lip as your moans arrived once again, this time they weren’t forced.

“F-fuck! Mhm, right there, Nat, right there-“ You cut yourself off with a hand covering your mouth, your fear of being heard finally coming to mind. Your stepmother wasn’t pleased, she wanted to hear everything just like Carol got to. At least she thinks her name is Carol, she didn’t care enough to listen or shake the waiting hand earlier.

“‘M gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” Came your muffled scream, your legs starting to shake from the denied orgasms sent your way. Now you were getting release, and the one woman on your mind was Nat, how pathetic. Not only was she your boss, but she was also your mother's wife. She was much too old for you and you both knew that, but that didn’t stop the want in your heart.

“You look so pretty when you cum, little slut.” You nearly jumped out of your bones, rushing to cover yourself but failing to turn off the vibrator, leaving a deadly silence filled with buzzing.

“Don’t cover yourself, baby, I wanna see you.” She stalked forward, cupping her crotch as her thumb ran circles around her clothed tip. She fiddled with her shirt before pulling it off, exposing her black bra and breasts that were aching to be freed. You gulped, trying to look away from the sight in shame but not being able to.

“You’re- you’re gorgeous, Nat.” She blushed at your comment, her knee landing on the bed as she crawled towards you, resting your chin in her fingertips. She leaned closer, her gaze switching between your lips and your eyes as she begged for permission. You took a moment to respond but eventually nodded slowly, causing her to press her mouth against yours in a slow but sensual kiss. Her hands rested your hair behind your ear, her body pulling closer as her cock was now throbbing. If you looked close enough, you could see a small wet stain soaking through her pants, she hoped you didn’t notice. But she also wanted you to, she wanted you to see how much she craved your body against hers.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the moment I saw you.” She confessed, experiencing relief when you smiled, kissing her softly in return. You were already growing addicted to the feeling, wanting to stay in this exact position for the rest of your life. But she wasn’t yours, she was a married woman, a woman married to your mother, at that.

“No-…no, we can’t-“

“Why not?” Her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, her eyes ranking over your worried expression as your breathing picked up ever-so-slightly

“You’re married… to my mom. You’re my stepmom!” She shushed you with a finger to your lips, smirking gently as her hot breath fanned over your face.

“Not tonight. Tonight I’m your Mommy, you got that?” You whimpered and it nearly resulted in a moan from the older woman. Hearing you get like this all for her turned her on so greatly, she couldn’t even explain. Your mother was never exciting in the bedroom, or Nat just didn’t like the things she wanted to do. But she found herself wanting to do them with you, she wanted to do anything and everything with you.

“Tell me what I want to hear, angel.” Her hips created a small thrusting motion the harder she got, it was becoming impossible to ignore her needs. You gulped, fighting back tears of shame as you whispered,

“You can be my Mommy, Nat.” She left a peck on your forehead and slowly removed the sheets hiding her prize. Her final destination.

“God, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to get a taste of this sweet, sweet pussy.” She didn’t let you even utter a word before spreading your legs and pressing her tongue against your heat. Your hand instantly returned to its original placing over your mouth in order to keep silent. You knew your mother wouldn’t be home for a few more days, but what if that cut short? What if she somehow caught a virus and had to leave early and planned on surprising the two of you? Not only was the fear of being caught roaming freely in the back of your mind but so were your nerves. Nobody had ever truly seen this side of you, where you were beyond ecstatic and touch-starved. Nobody had ever felt you tug desperately on their arm to bring them closer, Nat wasn’t like the others. She was strong with her biceps nearly bulging out of her suit jackets daily. Her kiss was soft, even when she was hungry for a different part of you. You could sense that she truly wanted to taste you and didn’t just do so to get you wet, you were already dripping onto the sheets before she even wrapped her tongue around your pulsing clit.

“So precious,” She muttered, instantly returning to her previous position. She pressed your folded legs against your chest for a better angle, and the moan that left you in return could’ve been considered pornographic. Her tongue briefly slid across your second hole and caused a small thrust from your end, your body yearning for her to repeat.

“Oh, Mommy..” Her moan sent a thrill through your entire being, it seemed to be the only reaction she was able to give you. She was scared to show you her true aspirations. She was scared to have you see the impulses she’d try to stop in worry that you’d run. Truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to claim you as hers but treat you like you were nothing but a toy for her to use. She’d just have to get you attached to her, then you’d comply with anything she said.

Images flashed through her head, ones where you were sat on your knees, her cock trapped deep inside of your throat while her hand held you firmly in place, forcing you to take all of her. She knew you could do it, she had faith in you.

“‘M sorry, baby, I need you too fucking bad.” She reluctantly pulled away from you and patted you softly, leading you to kneel in front of her. She laid in the same position you had been when she guided your mouth to her crotch, your thighs tightening around her head before she continued her previous acts. Her tongue licked stripes up your weeping cunt as you pulsed around nothing, the sobs coming from your mouth being silenced as it was met with her drooling tip. You sucked weakly, the tiredness catching up to you as you gathered the strength to stroke her balls softly. Her hips jutted upward, resulting in a small gag as she fell deeper inside of you. You didn’t stop it, you didn’t even try as you let her do all the work. She was fucking you and guiding you to fuck her. Teaching you how to do everything just like always, just how she liked it. She enjoyed being a leader to you, she found it unbearably arousing to see your eyes looking up at her, asking for help.

You felt your orgasm approaching and tried to warn her, but she could already sense it.

“It’s okay, you can cum all you want.” She seemed to know you better than you knew yourself. The thought worried you, but you didn’t have much time to ponder as you felt your stomach repeating a clenching until you screwed your eyes shut, your vision going blank as you could see stars forming all around you.

She was greedy the moment she got her mouth on you, but now she seemed animalistic. Her hand came to your scalp, forcing you further down on her just like she had envisioned. You had no complaints in mind, choosing to instead swallow the hot liquid oozing out of her. She wished she could see your face right now: makeup ruined, eyes droopy, along with a small grin you wore.

“I wan’ more, Mommy,” She knew she succeeded when those were the words that left your mouth as soon as you were given the privilege to speak. She smirked, her thumb teasing the small hole that lined your ass. She had always found her sight landing on it whenever you’d pass by her, her thoughts seeming to have one more thing to feast on.

“Get on all fours, princess, I want to fuck this tight little hole next.”

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ilovenatasharomanoff2-0 · 1 month

Note

Okay so I’m new to the blog and I saw requests were open! So kind, dom Nat or Wanda with fem sub R who is very submissive good girl golden retriever vibes, but Nat/Wanda is sadistic so she finds the smallest reasons to punish R and R just goes along with it? Maybe slight mistress kink? 👀

Baby, my love

warnings: a teeny bit of degradation, fingering, praise, riding, ass groping? I don't know. strap on

word count: 2.7k

pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem reader (Minors and men dni!!)

A/n: Bro, this is so cheeks because I have had such a long break, bru. I'm so rusty. Please save me. (I started getting lazy at the end cause I got bored and tired sowwy.)

"So cute," Natasha gazes at you with admiration as you peruse the restaurant menu. Your undivided attention is fixed on the pricey delicacies listed before you when, suddenly, her hushed compliment causes you to snap out of your menu-induced trance and meet her gaze.

"What?" You ask Natasha, only now coming out of your trance and paying full attention to your girlfriend.

"I said you're so cute, baby, So focused," she tells you. As you sit across from her in the dimly lit booth, she leans forward and reaches a hand across the table. Her fingers wrap around the salt crusher, which she begins to toy with absentmindedly. Despite her focus on you, you can't help but notice the veins that protrude from her weathered hands absentmindedly. Despite her focus on you, you can't help but notice the veins that protrude from her weathered hands.

As you catch a glimpse of Natasha, your cheeks instantly flush red, and you feel the heat rising on your face. Despite being together for over three years, she still has the power to make your heart skip a beat and leave you feeling butterflies. Your lips curl up into a grin, and you can't help but feel giddy as you realize how much you still adore her.

"I - thank you," you stutter out to her. A low chuckle escapes her lips as she gazes around the restaurant. She seems to be looking for someone specific, perhaps the waitress. And just as if on cue, the waitress approaches your table seconds later, timing it perfectly with her search.

"Are you feeling nervous for me already, my love? It's funny how you worry so much even though I haven't done anything yet," she says with a gentle sigh, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of her mouth. She looks up at you with a small smile, her eyes sparkling with affection and gratitude for your concern.

"I have nothing to worry about. You just—" but were interrupted by the waitress's appearance. She appeared from around the restaurant's corner, clad in a crisp uniform and carrying a notepad and pen. The steamy conversation was put on hold as she approached your table to finally take your orders.

As the waitress completes taking down Natasha's order, she turns her attention towards you. A warm smile graces her face, and you can't help but feel a sense of comfort in her presence. You reciprocate with a small smile, not wanting to appear impolite, as you place your dinner order. The soft murmur of other diners and the aroma of delicious food fill the air, making for a cozy ambiance.

"Perfect! I'll be back in a couple minutes to bring your food out!"The waitress says before walking away to assist other tables.

As you sat there, the soothing sound of low jazz filled your ears, enveloping you in a sense of calm and tranquility. For a few blissful moments, you were lost in the music, feeling your worries slip away. However, your reverie was abruptly interrupted by Natasha, who shattered the peaceful atmosphere with her sudden words.

"So, do you like her now?"

"W-what are you talking about nat? Do I like who?"

"Oh, please. Don't act like you don't know. The waitress."

"Natasha, I'm seriously not in the mood for this bullshit right now." You tell her; an exaggerated groan leaves your mouth as you put your face in your hands.

" Watch your fucking mouth y/n. You were all on her right? Smiling at each other like I wasn't here?"

The air grew still between you and Natasha, punctuated only by the sound of your own breath as you lifted your head to meet her gaze. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, pregnant with unspoken thoughts and emotions.

"But, she could never fuck you like I do, huh?"

You feel a sudden stillness in the air like time has slowed. Your cheeks start to flush with embarrassment once again. It takes a moment to fully comprehend Natasha's words. You can't help but wonder how she could be so uninhibited and unconcerned about expressing herself in such a public setting.

"Answer me, y/n."

"No, Natasha." As you begin to respond to her, you feel a slight discomfort between your legs. You shift your weight, crossing your legs to alleviate the buildup of heat and tension. Your words come out slowly as you try to maintain your composure.

"Good fucking girl," As you sit there, she leans in and whispers into your ear, her smirk growing wider with each passing moment. You can feel the warmth of her breath against your skin, and her words have a powerful effect on you, making your heart race and your mind spin. Despite your best efforts to remain composed, you can't help but feel a little bit helpless in her presence.

The rest of dinner was a torcher for you, and Natasha slowly lured you into her trap. It was too easy for her to have you melt in her hands. The night was filled with low teasing words that spilled from Natahsa's mouth, her shoe running up and down your leg. Only provoking the wetness between your legs.

As soon as the check arrived, Natahsa swiftly took out her wallet and paid without any delay. She made sure to leave a generous tip, expressing her gratitude for the excellent service. Without wasting any time, she grabbed your hand and hurriedly rushed back to the car, eager to have time with you.

During the seemingly long ride back to your New York apartment, you felt her veiny hand placed on your thigh, exerting a firm and steady pressure as she squeezed it. The touch of her hand sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but wonder what was going through her mind at that moment.

"'M sorry, Nat. I won't do it again," you tell her softly, just loud enough to be heard over the music playing in the car.

"You can try that cute apology again at home when I'm fucking your brains out, sweetheart."

Butterflies erupt from your stomach once more; you don't know how Natasha can be so collected when saying all these vulgar things to you.

You, on the other hand, had your legs squeezed together to get some sort of friction. Natasha's hand was inching closer and closer to your core making you more needy for her than you already were.

Natasha pulls the car into her designated parking spot with a sense of urgency, as if she can't wait to get inside. Without a moment's hesitation, she takes hold of your arm and guides you out of the vehicle and into the building. Her hand swiftly finds the key to the shared apartment, which she deftly inserts into the lock and turns with a satisfying click. Within seconds, the door swings open, revealing the cozy interior of your home.

Without any delay, she swiftly makes her way to your bedroom, determined to get you there as quickly and as safely as possible. Once there, she handles you with the utmost care and delicacy, making sure not to cause any further discomfort or harm as she gently eases you onto the bed.

Natasha makes her way onto the bed, looking at you with her full attention. Her hands clasp around your face, slowly bringing you into a kiss.

After a few seconds, she pulls away, her hungry eyes staring into yours. Her hands carefully and quickly come down to the zipper of your silk dress, slowly zipping down, until you were left wearing your bra and panties.

"So fucking gorgeous pretty girl. Can't even blame that waiter for wanting you."

All you can do is look up at her and whine, needing to feel her on you. In you.

Her lips travel swiftly down to your neck, leaving a trail of wet and passionate kisses that send shivers down your spine.

Small moans leave your mouth when you feel Natasha's hand slowly make its way down to your pussy, her two fingers brushing over your panties. Her mouth leaves your neck slowly. Natasha kneels down to admire your exquisite beauty. She gazes at you with wonder and amazement, taking in every detail of your stunning appearance. Her eyes scan every curve and contour of your being as she marvels at your magnificence.

"Baby, make sure to enjoy this moment because this is the most gentle I'll be tonight," she whispers softly into your ear. Her breath against your skin sends shivers down your spine as you feel her warm embrace.

Natasha doesn't waste time taking off your bra, leaving it on your chest. Her fingers move back down to your panties, this time moving them to the side to admire your wetness.

"Holy shit, you're this fuckin' wet, and I haven't even done anything." She laughs to herself as she looks at your desperate face, begging her to fuck you without having to say anything.

"P-please Nat," you moan out with desperation. you plead with Nat in a small and helpless voice.

"Please, what princess? What do you want me to do to this fucking cunt?"

Your face slowly lights up from Natasha's words. "Just want you inside." You whisper out to her.

"What was that y/n? I don't think I heard you." Oh, Natasha heard you.

"I-fuck. I just want you inside my pussy Natasha!" You finally yell at her, your head leaning against the pillow so you won't have to look at her.

"Yes, ma'am," She tells you and pulls down your panties, tossing them to them behind her. Two of her fingers direct themselves back to your pussy, slowly gliding over your slit. She groans when she feels your wetness on her slim fingers. She lifts her hand up from your pussy to show you your wetness.

"Look at me, baby, look at how fucking wet you are."

You look up at her again, her eyes fixated on her fingers. She slowly spreads them apart, your slick moving with her fingers. She carefully places her two fingers into her mouth and moans at your taste, her eyes now locked in on you.

Her fingers lead back to your pussy for the 3rd time; this time, she pushes her two wet fingers into your cunt. A loud moan ejects from your mouth.

"Oh baby, you're already clenchin' around my fingers, and I haven't even moved them yet.

It was almost like you forgot to talk at that moment. The one thing you had been craving was finally here. The only way you could express your pleasure was to moan into her.

You were a mess, to say the least. Your eyes are drowsy as Natasha speeds her long fingers into your pussy, slick running down your soft thighs. Your hips bucked back and forth to meet the fast thrust of Natasha's fingers.

Natasha's thumb makes contact with your clit, rolling the bud in a circular motion. Shattered breaths and whimpers escape from your mouth, the room filling with the sound of your wetness. Her fingers curl slightly into your cunt, and a low plea finds its way out of you.

"I can feel you squeezing around me, my love. Are you close already? You poor thing, do I make you feel good?" she asks.

"Mm-ph, yes!" You manage to squeal. Natasha pulls her now, sopping wet fingers out of your cunt right as you are on the edge. You knew it was too good to be true. The way she gave into you so easily.

"Think you deserve to cum that fucking easy, my good girl?"

You were too fucked out to reply to Natasha, only moaning and lifting your hips up to her leg, which she quickly moves away, leaving you no source of pleasure.

"Answer my question, baby. Do you think a little disobedient slut like you deserves to cum?"

"N-no."

"That's a Good answer, my love. I have two options: I can leave you needy all night and not touch you, or you can work for it. Which one?

"Two." You groan out, your high thoroughly washed over now, bringing you back to reality. Natasha just smiles at you and walks away for a few minutes. Coming back in only her sports bra and a pair of Calvin Klein boxers that had that seemingly noticeable bulge.

Natasha gets on the bed again, lying down and signaling her eyes at you to straddle her.

"Natasha, what are you actually doing?" You question her as you move your body on hers.

"Gotta work for what you want. And...you do want to cum tonight, don't you?"

You tilted your head slightly and moved it slowly, in deliberate motion, indicating your agreement or understanding.

"Then you can ride my fucking cock and cum that way, okay?"

"You're not going to help?" you ask her. You were never able to get off without Natasha's help. It was almost impossible, ever since the first time you both had the most intimate sex ever, she had a chokehold on you.

"Why do you need my help? You can go and flirt with other people, so I suspect you can do this, can't you?

You give a subtle nod, feeling a hint of skepticism creeping up. It's hard to believe that what you've just heard is true. Nonetheless, you try to keep an open mind and remain composed.

"The more you wait, the further away you are from coming."

You don't waste a second longer. You plam the outside of Natasha's gray boxers. She lets out a little sigh and grasps your ass. After feeling her through her boxers, you slowly pull them down, her large strap springing up and hitting her stomach. She looks you up and down smugly, her abs clenching at the thought of you.

You slowly spit on her cock, sliding your hand up and down her base as she just watches. You finally start to sit down, her cock, your face already contouring with pleasure. Natasha throws her hands behind her head, loving the view of your hands on her stomach as you sink down on her cock.

You need no time to start riding her like your life depended on it. Whispers of her name leave your mouth as you feel how she stuffs you.

"Keep on riding me just like that, love."

You move your hips back and forth, trying to get an immense amount of pleasure out of riding her. Your high wasn't building, only the frustration that came with it. You speed up your hips. Nothing. You try bouncing up and down on her cock. Nothing. She can tell that you are struggling; it's evident in your face and the rhythm of your slurred movements.

Natasha loves seeing you like this. She knows she's why you have difficulty coming undone without her help. She knows that no other lousy girl can fuck you the way she does. You were hers.

"Natasha, please. I'm sorry for what I did. I promise it's not going to happen again." You whine out to her, and your eyes start to water.

"Fine, but only because you asked so nicely."

Nat positions her legs in a bent way where your back can lean against them. Her hips quickly get to work. Fucking themselves into you at a rapid pace. The room was filled with moans from both of your mouths and the sound of skin slapping against one another.

"Look so fucking pretty like this. Can't even fuck yourself without my help. Pathetic."

You only moan at her words that bring you closer to the edge, her hips moving at a slower pace but fucking yours harder. Her hands gripped your ass tightly as she fucked you, not giving two fucks if the neighbors heard you. She wanted them to know that you were hers.

Your eyes are closed; your focus is on how good Natasha fucks your efforts.

"This pussy is so tight, shit." She moans out to you.

"So close, Nat, please don't stop."

And she doesn't. She works her hips like a god, her eyes fixated on how your greedy pussy swallows her cock. She's mesmerized by it all.

"Go ahead, baby, cum all over this cock." You need no other confirmation. Your eyes squeeze shut even harder, and your grip on her hips becomes stronger as high-pitched moans leave your mouth. You body slumps down on Natasha's as you catch your breath, she admires you from above.

"you did so well for me, y/n. But I don't know if I'm down with you yet, sweetheart.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x female #natasha x y/n #natasha romanov #marvel #natasha x reader #marvel smut

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togrowoldinv · 4 months

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The Bodyguard

Bodyguard!Natasha Romanoff x Actress!Reader

Natasha is tasked with being bodyguard to you and you two grow close. Maybe too close, but would she dare cross that line?

Note: I have finally written an installment of this au I’ve been thinking about. Let me know what y’all think! Enjoy!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

Natasha Romanoff is great at her job. In fact, she is so good that she has been in high demand in the bodyguard industry for years. She is tough, but her clients have nothing but good things to say about her.

Nat recently finished an assignment, and she is available. Your agent jumped on the opportunity to hire her to protect you. As an up-and-coming actress, you need a highly skilled security team. And you’re not exactly the easiest person to protect. You like to ditch your security whenever you can.

When she arrives at work, Natasha waits in her boss’s office to get her assignment. Fury walks in the door with a grin on his face. That’s never good, Nat thinks.

“How bad is it?” Nat asks.

Fury chuckles. “Have you heard of Y/n y/l/n?”

“The actress?”

“That’s the one,” Fury says. “Three movies in one year that reached number one at the box office.”

“And I bet she’s a pain in the ass,” Natasha says dryly. She crosses her arms. “You just told me that I was done covering actors.”

“Plans change, Romanoff. You’ll be meeting Miss y/l/n tomorrow at her New York penthouse.”

“Great,” Nat says sarcastically. “Next time I get to choose the job.”

“In your dreams,” Fury quips back.

Nat leaves his office and passes Carol and Valkyrie in the common area of the office. The two look suspicious as they straighten their clothes, but Nat is focused on finding out more about you.

“New assignment?” Valkyrie asks Nat.

“Yeah, an actress. Just my luck.”

“So, you got the Y/n y/l/n job? Impressive,” Carol says.

“Tell me that when the assignment is over,” Natasha replies. She walks to the door but stops short to turn around and say one last word to the woman. “Hey, we all know about you two by the way. It’s nice.”

Nat smirks and leaves the office. She spends the rest of the day googling you and trying to find out everything she can. Your portfolio is impressive, she must admit.

The next morning, Natasha wakes up early and goes for a run before getting ready to meet you. She wears a black suit and her beautiful red hair in a braid. The drive to your penthouse doesn’t take long.

You’re still in your pajamas when she arrives, but your assistant lets her in anyway. She takes a look around for a quick security check while she waits for you to emerge from your bedroom.

“Miss y/l/n, your new bodyguard is here,” your assistant, Kate, says.

Natasha comes into your view and your words catch in your throat. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen such a beautiful woman.

“Oh, hi,” you say to her.

“Hello, Miss y/l/n,” she speaks, and your heart flutters. She holds out her hand for you to shake. “I’m Agent Romanoff.”

“Call me y/n,” you say as you shake her hand.

“I’d prefer to keep it professional, Miss y/l/n,” she says, trying to ignore that she finds you attractive.

“Right, okay.”

“I have a few rules,” Agent Romanoff begins. “Don’t try to lose me anywhere. It won’t work. Listen to me when I am trying to get you out of a situation or avoiding it all together.”

She pauses when you get out your phone to check a message. You reply and she waits to speak again.

“That was two rules,” you say. “Not a few.”

“Well, I assumed you stopped listening, so I stopped talking,” Nat says.

“I was listening.”

“Sure.”

“Tell me the last rule,” you say.

“That will have to wait,” your assistant interrupts you. “The car is here to take you to the photoshoot.”

Natasha turns to her, “I’ll need information about anyone who drives Miss y/l/n, and you’ll need to include me on all itineraries from this point on.”

“Okay,” Kate replies.

“Thank you.”

You grab your jacket and purse before heading down to the car that’s waiting outside. Nat follows you closely. There are a few fans waiting but nothing compared to some days. You get inside the car, and she sits in the seat next to you.

She buckles up and waits for you expectantly to do the same. The car is in motion before you do it, so takes it upon herself to reach over you and grab the belt.

“What are you doing?!” You ask her.

“You’re not invincible,” Nat says while clicking your belt into place.

You groan in annoyance, but you do feel warm at the thought of someone caring enough for you to make sure you are buckled. You really need to surround yourself with better people.

At the photoshoot, Nat stands guard. She stays out of the way but keeps an eye on you. She doesn’t mind watching you wear beautiful clothes and pose in appealing ways. The whole thing kind of turns her on.

The first few weeks of her employment goes like this. You attend events, parties, and photoshoots. You don’t give Nat any trouble. That is until the night of your birthday party.

The first part of the night went fine. So many people showed up that you didn’t even know them all, but that’s the industry for you. You are sitting at a table and flirting with one of your new colleagues when things take a turn for the worst.

“How about we find somewhere more private?” He leans in and asks you.

“Maybe another time,” you say. You like him just fine, but you really don’t want to leave the party yet.

“Come on, baby. It’ll be fun.”

“Not tonight,” you reply.

You glance towards Nat who is across the room. She catches your eyes and walks closer to you, keeping her distance but ready to help if you need her.

“Y/n, let’s go,” the man says, taking your hand and trying to pull you up.

“No,” you say firmly.

“She said no,” your actress friend that you’re closest to, Wanda, jumps in.

“Come on,” he still won’t relent. His grip is tightening on your arm. It hurts. He leans closer to your lips. “Let’s just-”

“Hands off of her,” he is interrupted by Natasha getting in his face. She pushes his chest to get him off of you. He releases your arm, but doesn’t back down from Nat.

“What are you going to do about it?” He attempts to taunt her.

“Leave,” Nat says. “Or I’ll put you through that wall.”

“So dramatic,” he says. But he backs away and heads towards the door.

Once he is out of sight, Natasha turns back to you. Wanda and a few others are trying to protect you, but you only want comfort from one person. You practically jump into her arms as you try to hide your tears from anyone else. Nat hugs you back, but with hesitance.

She feels safe and warm as you let yourself go in her arms. Her black leather jacket collects your tears. She walks with you in her arms away from the crowd.

“Are you alright?” She asks, real concern in her eyes.

“I’m fine,” you say, but you don’t look it. Nat walks you to your car and inside the vehicle.

You look out the window and try to hold back your tears.

“Let me see your arm,” Nat says after a few minutes.

You hold it out for her to examine. She doesn’t see any injuries. Her touch is featherlight as she rubs her hands over the aching muscles.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t get near you again,” she says.

“Thanks, Agent Romanoff,” you reply.

“You can call me Natasha,” she says.

“I love that name,” you tell her. She smirks.

“I’ll step in sooner next time, okay?”

“Okay. Maybe we need a code word or something,” you suggest.

“Like spies,” Nat jokes. You crack a smile, and she feels better about your state. “Let’s see. You can switch your drink from one hand to another.”

“We’ll workshop it, Natasha,” you say.

Nat nods. When you arrive at home, Nat helps you inside. She typically leaves you for the night, but you ask her to stay. Natasha sleeps on the couch.

When you wake in the morning, you find her sitting upright and ready to work. You sigh, thinking about the events from last night.

“What is it? Am I just not pretty?” You ask Natasha as you throw yourself onto the couch next to her.

“You know I can’t answer that and be professional,” Natasha replies.

She tries not to smirk at the way you dramatically sat down. She is slowly opening up to the idea of enjoying being around you as more than just her client.

“But you could just tell me because it seems that no one wants to date me,” you say.

“Y/n,” Natasha warns. “Trust me you are not the problem. I know for a fact people tell you that you are pretty all the time. Those assholes that go after you say it. You wouldn’t be a successful actress if you weren’t pretty.”

“Maybe, but I really don’t feel pretty.”

You sit up straighter and wait for Natasha’s response.

“You’re beautiful, y/n,” Natasha says sincerely.

“Really?”

“Really. Inside and out,” she says.

“I don’t know about that,” you reply despondently.

“I know. Look I haven’t known you but a few weeks, but I know that you’re a good person, y/n. And that makes you more beautiful than a million other people in the same position that you’re in,” Natasha explains.

There is no hesitation in her voice. It is nothing but the truth.

You feel yourself leaning in closer to her, but she moves away breaking the closeness. You try not to frown.

“Rule number three: We can’t get too close to each other,” Natasha says. “I have to protect you with a clear mind.”

“Okay,” you say. “But maybe we could break the rules, Natasha?”

To be continued…

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort #bodyguard!natasha #actress!reader

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natashaslittlegirl · 1 year

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Romanoff's Assistant

Just graduated from Harvard with a master's degree in psychology, Y/N looks for a job and finds it in a not-so-expected way at Romanoff's company, the most famous psychology studio in New York. (october 2022)

Boss ! Natasha Romanoff x Assistant ! Reader

Warnings: +18 MINORS DNI. Mentions of child abuse, lots of mommy issues, abusive mother, psychology's cases, +18 lenguage, smut, threesome (not many warnings because is really soft)

NEW FANFIC VERSION (Wattpad's old version)

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Characters / Story's aesthetic / Playlist / Additional information in chronological order

Masterlist Natasha Romanoff's Masterlist Romanoff's assistant account

#Romanoff's Assistant #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #wanda maximoff #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff smut #wanda maximoff smut #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen smut #black widow #lizzie olsen #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #wanda maximoff fic #wanda marvel

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romanoffsassitant · 1 year

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Romanoff's Assistant, Chapter II - The contract

#Romanoff's Assistant #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel fic #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff smut #wanda x you #wandanat #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha marvel #natasha x you #wanda fanfic #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff x reader

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observeowl · 9 months

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Her Assistant | Chapter 1 - Romanoff's Mansion

Summary: After losing her family, Natasha Romanoff builds her company from the ground up. During the rise of her company, she decided she needed an assistant, one that works in her office and her house. That's when she saw your resume. After working five years for her, how was it like working for her? Or more importantly, how things progress?

Series Masterlist

Your POV In the outskirts of New York there lies a mansion. The distinguished family of Romanoff's morning event started off with an early cup of coffee.

"Miss Romanoff, it's time to wake up. Today's breakfast of poached salmon and mint salad has been prepared. Side dishes of toast, scones and compagne (a type of French peasant bread) have been baked. Which one would you like?" I ask the owner of the mansion as I pour her her first cup of coffee for the day as soon as she's awake.

"The scones..." She replied, still feeling the sleepiness in her. "That aroma... Is it Robusta coffee beans?" She inquired.

"Yes."

We went through the plans for the day and went ahead with the first thing on the agenda after Miss Romanoff finished her breakfast.

Having a famous household name that spread nationwide, there would be plenty of people challenging her status, thinking they would be able to take her spot and my role is to get rid of those pesky rats.

Currently, the Wing family and I are having a bout in front of Miss Romanoff. There was absolutely no reason for them to be issuing a challenge against us but they weren't the only ones. Miss Romanoff accepted the challenge solely because she wanted to have some entertainment in her time.

"How... how do you know this technique?" Mr Wing stuttered after I knocked him down with his own specialty.

"How can I be Miss Romanoff's assistant if I couldn't use that technique?" I dusted my hands off even though I was wearing my gloves.

"How boring. I thought you would be defeated today." Miss Romanoff rolled her eyes when she saw I won the fight once again. Mr Wing was chased out by Bucky once he lost the fight.

I smiled at her ignoring her comment and glared at the rest of the staff as they were supposed to be doing their job and not watching the scene as well. "There was a call from Italy." I told Miss Romanoff as I draped her long coat around her shoulders.

"From Clause?"

"That's right."

We walked towards her study and further discussed our plans for later. We talked about the company's import and export and who could be our potential threat. It's going to be one hell of a show.

I sighed at Miss Romanoff's orders, she loves to toy with people as they underestimate her because she's a lady. But her wish is my command.

---

I went out to get the things needed for the party later. I could have them delivered but I preferred being able to choose them by hand. Only the finest deserve to be served in front of Miss Romanoff.

I came back within two hours but the house was left in a disarray compared to when I left. "Bucky!" I screamed. He immediately came running towards me. "What in the world is going on?"

He chuckled without having an answer. "I'm not great at decorating." I sighed as guests were coming soon.

"Just leave this to me and stay in your room please."

I clapped my hands twice and started working immediately, salvaging as much as possible so I wouldn't have to redo the entire thing. When the time was approaching, I went to Miss Romanoff's room to make sure she was all ready for her guest.

She was all dressed and ready to go in her elegant dress but there was something amiss. "You look great, Miss Romanoff, but please do something about that sour look. Even if it is a lie, please make it seem like you're having fun." I stood by the door and looked at her through the mirror.

"Who are you to tell me what to do!" She turned around and raised her voice. "Smiling... To smile happily, I've forgotten how to do so." With a flick of her hair and finishing touches with her lipstick, she walked into the party with confidence and greeted her guests.

Natasha POV "Somehow, there seems to be a rat in here too." Sam said.

A couple of us went down to the basement where it was privately just for me and my few business partners. Not even Y/L/N came down with me. I had enough of mingling with the usual people and went down to have our own fun. The party was just a front to invite the people I wanted to meet.

"How long do you intend to let that harmful animal that scavenge for food and spread diseases around do as it pleases?" Clint asked as it was his turn to hit in the snooker game.

"Shall we let it go as it pleases? Or shall we make it swim?" Sam asked as he waited for his turn.

"Will you pass again, Romanoff?" Clint asked.

"Pass. The ball you can't help hitting is an un-hit principle." I stated while sitting comfortably on my armchair.

"That's good judgement. When will the rat be exterminated?" Ross asked.

"Soon, I have already received the ingredients from Clause." I stood up from my majestic seat and walked towards the pool table. "We will eradicate the rat's nest and break a few bones. When can I receive compensation for this?" I wasn't going to do this for free, I still have a business to run.

"Ahhh, a fail... billiards is hard." Sam said.

"This evening." Ross replied.

"That's fine. I'll have someone pick it up afterwards. Please wait for your snack to be prepared." I reached the pool table and bent forward aiming at the white ball. Ross clenched his jaw, not used to people speaking to him that way. But there was nothing he could do, he needed my help. And it wasn't going to be for free. Good things have a price to be paid.

"Will you aim for the nine-ball with the remaining three-ball?" Clint asked, understanding my flair in the game.

I smirked at him and pulled my arm backwards getting ready to hit the ball. "Are you underestimating me? I never lost a game."

Your POVAfter settling the rowdy bunch of servants and cooks, I finally have the time to catch a respite. The employees of Romanoff mansion are brilliant in their own way but taking care of a house is not one of them.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Miss Romanoff was done engaging with her friends. After sending her friends off from the mansion, I followed Miss Romanoff to her office.

"Y/L/N! Finish preparing for tonight." She instructed and I instantly knew what she meant.

"Understood, Miss Romanoff. I'll bring up your drink shortly." With that, she entered the office alone and I went to catch the rat I saw running across the hall.

"Bucky, clean this up please." I handed the rat to him and continued on with my duties. I went to prepare Miss Romanoff's cocktail which she always has before going to sleep but when I returned, she was nowhere to be seen.

The desk was in a mess and the window was forced open. This is the third floor, how did anyone climb up the building? I sighed knowing the cocktail I worked hard preparing was going to waste.

"Ah Bucky. Great timing." I called out to him when I saw him once again. "Help me finish this would you?" I passed the cocktail to him without explaining much.

Natasha POV After Y/L/N left, someone crept up behind me and covered my mouth with a cloth, causing me to pass out.

"The backside of America's public order..." I heard someone say while being bound by numerous chains. "Traitors will be bitten to death by the SHIELD's watchdog." I was a little bruised during my transport here. My clothes were no longer pristine but decorated with my blood.

"How many street names have they been burdened with? And how many families have been crushed?" The voice continues to speak.

"Who would have thought that the CEO of the world's best toy factory is just a woman, right? I thought you would open a strip club or something." He placed his fingers under my chin and tilted my head. "Natasha Romanoff."

"It really was you." I said, spitting out the blood that was collected in my mouth. "Ferro family, Azzuro Ferro."

"You know, Natasha, the Italian Mafia finds this country bothersome. It really is a pain." He started walking around like he was the main character of a book.

"You don't get to call me that!" I hissed at him.

He ignored me and continued his fanciful story. "Think about it, what's the most beneficial market for people like us?" He gave me a few seconds to think about it but of course I didn't reply. He's not worthy of my words. "It's not women nor spare parts. It's drugs, you know." He held his cigar and inhaled its scent.

"Even so, when we came to this country, thanks to the successful glares of the watchdogs, we haven't been able to catch a single relaxing scent." He growled at me, angry that neither him nor his lackey were able to have a good time. Getting rid of me is not easy so he decided to give me a proposition. "In the end, aren't we two sides of the same coin? So I just want us to cooperate a bit."

"In your dreams, I have no intentions of conspiring with a filthy rat." I didn't even spend time thinking about it.

"Who would have guessed that Clause would go to such lengths to obtain the drugs. Because of that I only get half of my share. Now do you understand...? If you're lying about where the goods are kept, I won't hesitate to feed you to the dogs."

Silence surrounded us and the only sound we could hear was the sound of clock ticking.

"We already kept your servants waiting. Where are the goods? If you don't spill quickly, I'll kill your servants one by one." He drops the gentleman stunt and reverts back to being the villain, which suits him more in my opinion.

I started laughing at his threats. "It would be nice if cute little puppies were able to 'fetch'." I tilted my head to the side and gave him an innocent smile. He must have thought I was being delusional in this situation.

He gave me a smile that a psychopath would have and was slightly disappointed in me. I received a blow to my face from his leather shoe,

"Do you hear me? The negotiation is over. Kill her." He spoke into his phone.

Their conversation went on for a while as he asked for updates. He was getting more agitated as I could hear panicked shrieks and he screamed into the phone and he stopped all of a sudden.

"Hello, I am a member of the Romanoff's household. I hope Miss Romanoff hasn't been troubling you." I could clearly hear Y/L/N from behind the phone with how quiet it was.

I watched as he gritted his teeth, unable to reply. "WOOF." I shouted so she could hear me.

"Certainly, Miss Romanoff. I'll come for you soon so please wait a little longer."

Your POVWhere could Miss Romanoff have gone? After handing the cocktail to Bucky, I walked towards the kitchen to see Pepper getting a snack of her own. "Hi Y/N!" She waved at me after closing the fridge.

"Hi Miss Potts." I greeted her.

"Y/N, how many times do I- '' She stopped talking when I stepped forward and pushed her to the floor. A bullet flew past us and a clear mark could be seen on the wall. "What just happened?"

"Apologies for my actions." I helped Miss Potts up from the floor and made sure she was not hurt. "Here, take this dessert for you and your boyfriend. Please be safe on your way back." I shoved the cheesecake into her hand and started walking out.

"What? Tony is not my boyfriend!"

"I didn't say anything about Mr Stark, Miss Potts." I bowed to her before hastily leaving.

Taking the mansion's car strictly for my use, I caught up to the group of people who were responsible for the shooting. They were already going above the speed limit but as soon as they saw my shadow, they increased their speed but it was no use, not against my modified car.

Pressing the pedal all the way, I caught up to them in seconds. Now riding the car next to them, I gave them a wave before pulling out my gun. I can see them getting nervous as their car swayed a little, going off road. I steered my car a little, forcing them towards the right.

"Where is Miss Romanoff?" I glared at them.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He kept darting his eyes between me and the road.

"I'm not as patient as Miss Romanoff, so tell me before I blow your brains up." I threatened and stuck my gun out of my window while driving the car with one hand.

"I really don't know." He shook his head denying everything. He gripped his steering wheel tighter and gulped. Time was ticking and I shot his shoulders and his car swayed severely. His eyes widened at the sight in front of him and he slammed the brakes but it was too late. Half of the car was already dangling off the edge of the cliff.

I got out of my car and jumped on top of his car trunk, making them tilt backwards slightly, giving them a sense of security but their lives were still in my control. I took the phone from them and was met with Azzuro from the Ferro family. I greeted him like how one would from an esteemed household. I was about to ask again when I wasn't receiving an answer but I heard the signal from Miss Romanoff from the background and knew to act.

"Thank you for the phone." I placed it back in their chest pocket for them. "Location of your master please." They were still shaking in their seats and holding onto the steering wheel for their dear life. "Come on now... I'm not a very patient person like Miss Romanoff. You don't want to end up like Humpty Dumpty do you?" I gave them a smirk that could match my master.

"He- he's setting up a hideout north of the east end!!!" They gave away instantly after the threat.

"Is that so?"

"We were- we were only hired out!"

"Oh, that's how it works? Then I apologise for detaining you. Please, enjoy your trip." I got down from the car and without the counterbalance, their car free fell off the side of the cliff into the water never to be found again.

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x you #my writing #Her Assistant #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff imagine

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sapphickorro · 9 months

Text

Office Affair´ˎ˗

pairing(s) - Assistant!Natasha Romanoff x fem!CEO!Reader, brief Wanda Maximoff x fem!Reader

summary: Being the CEO isn’t easy especially if your competitors are trying to sway you over, luckily your assistant is there to ground you when your brain gets fogged by lust. warnings: 18+ MDNI, cursing, dirty talk, workplace affairs, fingering (R receiving), oral sex (R receiving), Dom!Natasha, Sub!Reader, smut! word count: 2,360

A/N: This fic had been in my inbox for like months, sorryyyyy :3

ao3 - masterlist

Running a company was never going to get easier. Waking up early, leaving work late. Phone calls every hour, board meetings every week. Your daily schedule was hectic. You were just lucky to have an assistant who helped you work through it all.

Natasha Romanoff had been working as your assistant for a little under a year now. Originally being your secretary, you had given her a raise due to your prior assistant slacking on the job and not meeting your demands. Natasha seemed to be able to meet your demands far better than your previous assistant, even going as far as knowing what you need before you even ask for it from her.

This morning, Natasha had just dropped off your coffee. She knew your order by heart now and was making sure to deliver your coffee at the same time every morning.

“Is there anything else you need from me, Y/N?” After a while of her working for you, you went on a first name basis with each other. You always felt as if the formalities were too posh for you.

“No, thank you Natasha. I’ve got a meeting today so I’ll be needing you to watch over the office for a bit while I’m in it.” You sigh, your fingers rubbing over your temples.

Natasha opens her mouth to ask if she could help you destress but before she could, a knock echoes through your office. You look up, motioning for Natasha to answer the door. She doesn’t hesitate and twists the door handle revealing your secretary.

“Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N. Wanda Maximoff has arrived for your 10am meeting,” your secretary says as she hands you a clipboard of notes for the meeting.

“Thank you, can you bring her in here?” You ask and she nods, walking away from the doorway to gather Wanda for your meeting.

“I trust you to make sure my files are given to Sharon?” You ask Natasha as you stand up, leading her to the doorway. Sharon was your CTO and you had some rather important files to deliver before the evening. Natasha delivers a simple nod before exiting the door, passing Wanda Maximoff on her way down the hallway that leads to your office.

Wanda was adorned in a red suit, a smug smirk plastered over her lips. Her eyes glazed over Natasha’s for a mere second before looking back at what was in front of her.

Wanda enters your office, you greet her as you stand by the door. Her hand shoots out to shake yours and you notice how soft yet cold her palms were. You usher her into your office, shutting the door behind her. She takes a seat at the edge of your desk, her eyes not being subtle in the way they rake over your sheer button up shirt and pencil skirt that had a slit at the right side. Your hair was in a bun with two strands falling down the sides of your face.

“You’re a sight to see,” Wanda utters with a sultry tone in her voice, still holding her smirk as she meets your eyes again. Wanda was known to be a flirt, it was her strongest trait.

“Well, I can say the same for you,” you respond, matching her vigor. You walk to the side of your office opening a mini fridge with a different assortment of drinks inside.

“You want anything to drink?” You lean down to grab yourself a bottle of whiskey.

“Drinking in the morning? How naughty,” you flinch as her hand comes over your back, she glides it down your lower half ever so slightly. Before her palm can reach your ass though, you quickly straighten your posture, standing up again.

“Whiskey?” You ask, grabbing two glass cups from your shelf of glassware. You advert your gaze from hers as you’re sure you’d fumble over your words when you turn to look at her again. Wanda doesn’t miss the dark shade of rose adorning your face.

“That’d be great Y/N,” you pour two glasses of whiskey before turning to walk behind your desk, taking a seat at your office chair. You place the two glasses down on the table, taking a sip out of yours and leaving a light lipstick mark over the rim.

Wanda comes around to your desk to take a seat at the edge again, this time adjacently beside you.

“Let’s talk business?” You ask, trying to maintain eye contact with her but failing.

“I was thinking of buying your patent on your most recent project,” Wanda speaks with a confidence in her voice, it was as if her voice was trying to lure you in.

“I don’t know if that’s feasible, Wanda,” you’re shocked at her preposition. Wanda’s company being a rival company to yours made it so you were always constantly trying to one up each other on newer and better inventions. You had never thought that she would downright attempt to buy the patent on your latest project to hinder your company.

“Name a price sweetheart,” you pause, her nickname causing your brain to jumble up again.

“I don’t know Wanda, we’ve been working on this for a while now and-” she cuts you off with her thumb running over your lower lip.

“You had some lipstick smudged,” she says, staring at your lips. Your face flushes, with your breathing getting heavier. Wanda’s hand drops down to your chin, lifting it up so she can face it directly.

“How can the enemy of my company look… This. Good,” your breath hitches at your throat as Wanda’s face slowly drops down towards yours. Her eyes staring at your lips. She starts leaning in, close enough to feel the soft warmth of her breath hit your lips.

Wanda gets cut off by the door before she can capture your lips into hers. The two of you snap your head towards the door, seeing Natasha standing at the other side.

“Sorry to interrupt, your meeting’s gotta get cut short as it seems that we’ve double booked Y/N for another meeting during this time. So sorry,” her voice feigns sorrow but Wanda could tell that her facade was fake. You quickly turn away from Wanda, your face getting impossibly hotter.

Wanda stands up, taking a look at you before looking back up to Natasha. “Please hurry, Y/N urgently needs to get ready for her second meeting.”

Natasha’s smile doesn’t meet her eyes. She has a staredown with Wanda, their fake politeness not being noticed by you.

“I’m sorry Wanda, we can discuss this another time?” You finally gather yourself to stand up, leading her out the door. Wanda nods, not answering as her eyes squint in anger at Natasha.

Once Wanda leaves, Natasha slams the door shut.

“What the fuck was that?” She stares at your eyes. Your eyes widen staring back at hers.

“What was what?” You answer defensively at Natasha’s vulgar demeanor.

“You were just gonna let her fuck you?” Natasha walks towards you, causing you to back up with every step she takes until your back hits the edge of your desk.

“Were you spying on me?” You ask with even more fervor. “No! I was gathering your files for Sharon before I saw Wanda practically about to slobber all over you. You DO realize that you have glass for walls on one side of your office.” She gets impossibly closer to you, her tall body casting a shadow over you.��

“I-I don’t know what that was,” your voice falters. Your eyes look down to her chest, finding it impossible now to maintain eye contact with her out of shame.

Natasha steps back, sighing loudly as her hand rubs her eyelids before running through her short hair.

For a CEO, you certainly don’t look like one right now. Your eyes look down at your fingers fiddling with each other. Your guilt cast over your face as you’re unsure what Natasha is going to say next.

Natasha catches a sight of your shriveled up demeanor and goes to close the curtains on your windowed wall. She locks the door to your office before sauntering towards you. Her body looms over you once again, this time her hand goes under your chin to lift your gaze towards her.

No words are shared as she leans in and catches your lips into hers. Your eyes shoot wide for only a moment before closing them to kiss Natasha back with just as much passion. Your hands wrap over her neck as her free hand goes to grip your waist.

You whimper into the kiss, allowing Natasha an opening to slide her tongue into your mouth. She instantly invades every corner of your mouth with her tongue, her hands slowly drift down your body until it reaches the waistband of your skirt. She slips her fingers through and slowly slides down your skirt alongside your panties.

Her hand comes to cup your cunt, a moan exiting your mouth at the contact. You both lean back to catch some air, your eyes staring into each other. Natasha’s eyes slowly drift down to her palm as she starts to circle around your opening with her middle finger.

“Shit, you’re drenched, boss. Is this all for me?” She looks back up at your eyes, lifting her hand back to show her glistening fingers. You nod coyly, the heat on your face being shown through your cheeks.

Natasha stuffs her slick fingers into your mouth watching as you obediently take them in, sucking them clean. She groans, “god you’re so good for me.”

Her praise causes your clit to pulsate, yearning for touch. Natasha spares you choosing not to torture you any longer, she pulls her hands back to give you multiple pecks over your face before dropping down onto her knees.

Your hands lean behind you to grip onto the edge of the desk as Natasha lifts your leg over her shoulder. She peppers your thighs with kisses in hopes of leaving a mark. You watch her intently, wanting to ingrain every image of this event into your head.

When Natasha finally reaches the area that had been aching for so long, she gives one quick swipe of her tongue from the back to the front. A whimper exits your mouth, your hands grip onto the desk turning your knuckles white.

Natasha’s eyes bore into your lidded ones, drinking in the way she made you turn into mush from just a swipe of her tongue. She dives back in with her tongue to circle around your clit. Your breaths come out labored and heavy from her ministrations.

A moan elicits from Natasha’s mouth as she moves her tongue to your cunt, your wet liquids seeping out. Your attempts at containing your moans turn into broken sobs and whimpers. Natasha leans back before prodding her fingertip into your soaked entrance. She inserts one finger at first to tease you further, her finger curls inside of you as she slowly pumps it in and out at an agonizing pace. Her eyes are fixated on her glistening finger as she watches it disappear and reappear from your hole, a mesmerizing sight for her.

You groan, “please, Natty.” She smirks as she looks back up at you, “does your greedy little hole want more?”

You nod fervently down at her, your pussy clenching at her single digit in anticipation of more.

“Of course a greedy slut like you wants more,” she feigns her disgust at you, beaming internally at how much she’s able to turn you on.

“But, since I’m so nice,” Natasha says as she inserts a second finger, a moan escaping your mouth at her dexterity. Natasha leans back in to leave soft kitten licks over your clit.

You whine again ready to beg for her to speed up her thrusts but before you can, Natasha notices your need and starts pumping her fingers into you at an intensified speed. The tip of her fingers hitting your spot every moment she curls into you. Her mouth starts to lap over your pussy at a rapid pace.

“N-Natty fuck!” Your head tilts back at the sensations overtaking your body.

“You gonna cum for me, slut?”

Your mouth opens as broken words fall out, “y-yes! Please, please, please - fuck!” Your hips start grinding on her fingers, wanting her impossibly deeper inside of you.

“You think Maximoff can make you cum the way I do?” She asks with a growl in her voice. When you don’t answer her, far too lost in your pleasure, she slows down her pace, “Answer me!”

You look back down at her, shaking your head as you answer, “No! Only you Natty, only you.”

Natasha soaks in your words as she feels her ego being fed. “If that’s the case then, cum for me. Let go.” She moves her head back onto your clit, sucking on it. Her fingers get impossibly faster, hitting your insides so perfectly.

Your mouth opens again, strings of curses followed with Natasha’s nickname falling out. “F-Fuck! Natty!” You yell out as you feel your orgasm snapping, a strong wave of pleasure encompassing your entire body. Natasha’s eyes look up at you to memorize every expression of your face as you cum.

Natasha’s fingers slow down as she lets your ride out your orgasm, your breaths getting slower and lighter by the second. Your knuckles release their grasp on the edge of the desk as Natasha stands up to place a hand over your waist, holding you up in place as you fall limp in her arms.

The hand with her digits inside of you slides out causing you to whimper at the emptied feeling. You open your eyes to catch her lifting the fingers into her mouth, sucking them clean causing you to clench your now emptied hole.

Natasha groans with an exaggerated eyeroll at your taste, “fuck you taste good, sweetheart.”

You giggle at her, your face red and damp with sweat. She smiles back at you as you lean in to start dropping kisses over her neck.

“Let me return the favor?”

#﹔﹒ korro writes﹒ ෆ #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff

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