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marveicinematics · 11 months

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the roommate (natasha x reader, smut)

Summary : You get a little too nosy about your roommate’s life, and she decides to make you forget about all your questions.

Pairing : Nathasha Romanoff x female reader.

Words : 1,345.

TW : Smut. Dirty talk, fingering, oral sex, squirting.

Note : Repost from a post I unwillingly deleted!

“Where have you been?“ You shouted when Natasha walked inside the apartment, shoving her bag against the wall before sitting down on the couch.

“Nowhere.“

Natasha had been your roommate for three weeks, now. Most of the time, the two of you had fun. It was nights out with drinks, watching Netflix all day long, ordering pizza while chatting about your ex-lovers and experiences. You found out about pieces of her life, mostly insignificant details. Like, that one time she had a threesome with two girls in a luxury hotel bathroom. Details that were described enough for you to start soaking your panties right next to her, sitting on the damn couch.

Natasha was attractive. No, she was stunning and hot and mostly fuckable. You stopped counting the number of times you pleasured yourself thinking about her body and how sassy she was. Her whole attitude was making you weak on your knees, and you stopped trying to hide it, at some point.

But Natasha was hiding so much from you. One of the things she refused to tell you was where she was, when she disappeared for days.

“You know I almost called the cops, right? It’s been almost a week.“

“Missing me, babe?“ She teased, a smirk on her face as your cheeks turned a warmer shade of red hearing the pet name she just gave you.

“I was worried.“ You replied, crossing your arms against your chest.

The seriousness emanating from your stance must have cool her down, because she sighed loudly, and left the living room, walking straight toward her bedroom.

“Natasha, wait!“ You shouted, following her, determined to find out what your roommate was up to.

She simply ignored your plead, entering the bedroom without giving you a look. When you arrived, Natasha was standing nearby her bed, her t-shirt shoved on the floor, revealing a push-up bra you had never seen before. It wasn’t the first time you saw Natasha half-naked, but you couldn’t help to stop and stare. Fuck, she was the definition of sex appeal.

“Like what you see, babe?“

She must have noticed your reaction, because she didn’t look as bothered from your presence, now. Her smirk was back on her face and this sparkle in her eyes would let you know that she wasn’t going to let you go this easily.

“I’m sorry, we will talk later.“ You mumbled, taking a step back as Natasha was walking towards you.

“Oh, come on.“ She said, closing the space in between you. “You seem so stressed, lately. Let me take care of you, just for once, okay? You know I’m good at this.“

You froze. It wasn’t because of the fact that she mentioned that you looked stressed lately, despite the fact that you hadn’t seen her in days. It wasn’t because of the way her hand grabbed your shorts to push them down your legs, revealing your panties. No, you froze because no matter how many times you had thought about Natasha fucking you senseless, hearing her say it made your pussy clenched faster than ever before.

“Oh, my god. Someone’s wet already.“

You didn’t even realize how her fingers disappeared between your bodies before she actually touched you. Right there, rubbing your clit through the fabric of the panties, making moan louder than you should have. She was right, you were already wet for her. And you had no idea how to control it.

Your mouth found hers, and it was really your only reaction. Kissing her, tasting her pink lips for the first time, so she wouldn’t say anything that would make you dripping wet in a matter of seconds. Natasha reciprocated the kiss so fiercely, as if she had been waiting for it. Maybe she was. You were, at least. You thought about it every time she smiled, every time she bit down her lower lip, every time you heard moans coming from her room and you knew she had her own hand buried deep between her thighs.

You were getting sweaty just from the kiss and the way her fingers worked wonders against your panties. Taking one step back, you took your shirt off, revealing your naked chest. Once again, that sparkle in Nat’s eyes. You knew you were in for a good time. Laying down on her bed, you spread your legs as wide as you could. She crawled on the bed, right between your thighs, and it was the most erotic vision you ever had. Her expert hands took your panties off your body and, before you knew it, her mouth was against your pussy, devouring it.

“Fuck, Nat!“ You screamed as you felt her tongue licking your slits eagerly, eyes locked with yours. “That’s so hot, baby.“

You felt her fingers tightening against your thighs, probably leaving bruises along the way, but you loved it. Eyes rolling back and heart racing, you felt Nat’s tongue entering your cunt as deep as she could. It wasn’t just a guess, you already knew this would be the best fuck of your life.

“Oh god, yes. Keep going, please.“

You didn’t even know why you were so talkative. As if she was going to stop. Her fingers started massaging your clit, and soon enough she was ruthlessly touching it, sending shivers down your spine.

“Wait,“ you tried to speak between loud moans, feeling your pussy clench around her tongue already. “You’re gonna... You’re gonna make me cum.“

It didn’t seem to stop her. Her tongue left your pussy, only for two of her fingers to dive deep inside you, curling just a little, exactly how you needed it — right there. Fingering you as hard as she could, her second hand was still abusing your swollen clit. You felt it build, stronger and stronger, deep inside yourself. It wasn’t like any orgasm you had before. It was deep and strong, it was taking its time, making you scream in anticipation. She took you right there, on the edge of the most breath-taking orgasm. Your legs trembling already, the sound of her fingers slamming inside your wet pussy, your heavy breath as you felt everything around you spin.

And you came, squirting on her bed in a way you never even knew was possible. You came hard, screaming incoherent words as her fingers kept fucking you.

“That’s it, baby“ you heard her say, “let it all out“. And her fingers wouldn’t stop, even when you thought you were done.

“Natasha, I can’t...— Oh my god, oh my god, yes.“

She didn’t stop, even after you finished squirting. Her fingers covered with your orgasm, she kept fucking your oversensitive pussy harder than before. You felt it build again inside you, so quickly. There was no way she was making you cum again, was there?

“Once again, be a good girl, yeah?“

You don’t even know why you nodded, whispering “yes“. You were just lost in pleasure and sensations you had never ever felt before. The orgasm was nearing again, and Natasha could feel it. While she fingered you a little slower, her tongue found your clit, licking it up and down expertly. Once again, your eyes rolled back. And once again, you knew she was going to make you cum. Hard.

One of your hand grabbed her hair, pushing her face against your needy cunt. You wanted to cum, you needed it. Your hips started to thrust back at her fingers’ pace, feeling them slamming harder and deeper inside you. Damn, she was hitting that spot again.

“Fuck, I’m coming again. Baby, don’t stop, I’m coming again!“

It was only a matter of seconds, and you were riding your second orgasm. Not as strong as the first one, but enough for you to see stars and heavens.

“Oh! Fuck!“ You screamed shamelessly. “Natasha, fuck fuck fuck fuck yes!“

Your dirty mouth seemed to amuse her. When you opened your eyes again, she was staring down at you, smirking again.

“Up for round two, babe?“

That’s when you knew. Natasha would not let you sleep, tonight.

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marigoldenblooms · 1 month

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Drunken Confessions - Drabble

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Agent!Reader

Prompt: You never called on her for anything, always staying at a distance from Natasha. She was starting to think you hated her, that your lingering glances and continual avoidance was because you didn’t want to know her. That changes when you call her drunk off your ass at 1 am.

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Drunkenness, slight drunken confessions, mentions of harassment, Reader calls Natasha “Natty,” Natasha calls reader “Agent,” Natasha has a motorcycle, fluff, hurt/comfort.

A/N: Had this one in my word counter for a while, and thought I’d finish it up! Quick little doozy, wanted a break from all the smut totally wholesome drafts I have going (although none of my work is not 18+ even without smut content! Once again, Minors DNI!) Biker women own my heart (I’d love to do a proper Biker!AU if anyone’s got any ideas!) Asks/requests are open! Director!N x Actor!R x Actor!W is coming soon... >:))

Word Count: 777 - Read Length: 2 minutes, 50 seconds. Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners!

~~~

It had been a while since you’d been out drinking, and even longer since you asked for Natasha’s help. You were acquaintances, perhaps even coworkers, but she thought it stopped there. You always avoided her- you were a beautiful stranger, lost in the night. And even still, when she heard her phone buzz with your ringtone this late, she picked up without a second thought.

“Agent?” She’d question, brow furrowing as she’d sit up, slinging her arm across her knee. She could hear the sound of cars around you, though from your heavy, stumbling footfalls you weren’t in one. You were drunk.

“Natty..-“ you’d keen and she’d blush, wiping the sleep from her face as Natasha tried to ignore the sweetness in your tone, and the nickname on your lips- never used for her. She wished it came out of your sober mouth. You’d stop walking and she’d hear you huff, stuck in an alleyway you didn’t recognize. “I think I’m..-lost, I’m lost, fuck-“

“And I’m awake,” she’d respond, voice gravelly and thick, but focused as she’d pull on clothes, and you heard the rustle. Your voice would drop into a secretive whisper, still too loud to be actually effective, “Natty, Natty- are you…naked-??”

“No,” Natasha would be grabbing her motorcycle keys and jacket now, slung loose over one shoulder before you heard the sound of her door, and seconds later the ignition of some vehicle. “I’m coming to get you, Agent. Gimme a landmark-“

“There’s a Mc…a Burger King, next to me, mm-“ Your mumble about being hungry was lost on her as Natasha’s tires would squeal across the road, its emptiness allowing her to climb speed quickly. Her voice was closer now, spoken through her helmet’s microphone, “Stay put, I’m on my way.”

------------------------------------------

“He was… was callin’ me ugly-“ you slur, a blush alighting your cheeks. You’d hiccup, earning a chuckle from Natasha’s focused expression on the road. She’d picked you up minutes ago, careful to drive slower with your arms slung sloppily around her waist. You’d been telling her something about a rude man at the bar, disgruntled by your refusal to ‘go home to his smelly apartment,’ as your mocking voice had put it, “On the inside, and- and the…..outside, mhm!”

Natasha would chuckle again, expecting the insult to roll off your drunken facade, but instead your shoulders shook against her back. Slowing to a crawl on the side of the road, she’d look back to see your face looking crumbled- gleaming with tears. You hiccup again and Natasha turned off the bike, trying to soothe you with an awkward hand around you. She’d pull your side against hers, helmet in the crook of her other elbow as she’d whisper to you, “Hey, hey Agent, it’s alright, shhh..” Natasha’s hand would’ve risen to your cheek, prickling goosebumps down your spine as her thumb would wipe your tears away. Your fingers would’ve risen to hers, taking her palm gently before placing a kiss on it. She’d shift her hand away and you’d meet her gaze- her mouth was open, and your eyes darted down to it. “Natty..” your eyebrows would furrow, pouting as she’d escape your touch, “Why won’t you kiss me, Natty?”

“Because you’re drunk,” She’d roll her shoulders and you’d watch with wonder as her muscles moved beneath thin fabric, Natasha’s coat now on you. You’d have to pick your jaw off the road once you were done. Her words would almost startle you, “And you don’t know what you’re doing, Agent. Why did you call me?”

“I..” You’d begin, yet your words left you as soon as you started them. You could never think when she was around- distance was necessary for professionalism. You hoped liquid confidence would be enough to bridge the gap, and ask the attractive redhead for coffee tomorrow. You overdid it. You forgot what she even asked, “But I want- want you. Don’t you want me?”

Your declaration made her smile, and you decided then that you wanted her to do that again. Needed her to. Natasha shook her head, and she thanked your drunken stupor for you not noticing the blush on her face. She’d turn around, donning her helmet again- her voice muffled now, “You’re drunk, Agent. Let’s talk about this tomorrow, alright?”

“Mhmm..” You’d settle, pulling yourself against her back. “So warm..” you’d murmur, crooning into her shoulder. You’d hear the woman snicker, before the bike underneath you thrummed to life. Maybe if that conversation went well, your thoughts sluggishly considered- she’d teach you how to ride it. If Natasha’s playful snicker at your words was any indication, your chance was pretty high.

~~~

#minors dni #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel #marvel mcu #mcu #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanov #natasha romonova #black widow x female reader #drabble #my fic #bearrrwrites

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blackkwidowed · 3 months

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Imagine kissing Nats bruises and scars after a mission and just being soft and showing her so much love.

I just wanna give Nat a hug tbh

just the entire concept of nat finding it so hard to be vulnerable around anyone but you is both heartbreaking yet the softest most adorable shit ever. here's a little drabble. some darker themes here as well i guess. also, best friend bucky? you got a taste of that here as well. also haven't proofread so sorry

•

When the few team mates arrive back off a mission, there's a dark, almost sad, atmosphere among them. Natasha, Bucky, and Clint had gone together for a few days to track something down. They'd come back early, empty handed, bruised, beaten down and overall, unsuccessful.

Natasha had looked the most upset. She hadn't been crying or anything, she just looked glum. She looked like she'd seen something no one wants to see.

Immediately you say your hellos to everyone, glad that they made it back safely and in once piece- albeit a few bruises and minor injuries. Something had happened out there.

You pull Natasha into your arms and there's something about the way she relaxes and sinks against you that makes your concern skyrocket. Fingers running through her hair, you cup the base of her skull in your hand and bring the other to her cheek for her to look at you. "What happened, my love?"

She sighs, the kind of sigh that speaks for itself.

"We found a group of kids. They'd all been locked up by these asshole guys we were trying to find. They'd been brainwashed. Beaten. Taken from their families and forced into whatever the hell kind of project that's been lined up for them."

You flinch, closing your eyes and repeating Natasha's sigh from before. You understand now.

"Got jumped by some security who've had training from God knows where. Good enough to get some hits in, put it that way." She cranes her neck a little, moves her hair out the way, enough to show the budding purple mark under her ear that's making it way across her jaw. "Powerful bunch, these guys. We're gonna need some more planning before we go back in there."

You nod in agreement, tracing your finger gently across the mark and pressing a soft, barely there kiss to the skin.

"Are you okay?" It comes as a whisper, gentle and only just loud enough for her to hear it. "I mean, I know you're not okay as such just. What do you need?"

She smiles gently at you, pushing herself closer to you again and resting her nose in the crook of your neck. "This is good."

You press a kiss to the side of her head, looking up at the guys who're now sat at the breakfast bar of the kitchen, also looking on like they've seen a ghost. You can't help but feel sorry for whatever they've seen, it takes a lot to have them left feeling like this.

You send Nat to your room, telling her you'll be up there in a moment and to get changed out of her suit. Quickly, you make your way over to the boys and rest a hand on each of their shoulders. "You need anything you know where I am, alright?"

They thank you thoroughly, Bucky even slinging an arm around your waist and squeezing lightly as a thank you. "Take care of her, yeah? I think, maybe, she's reminded of everything she went through. It's hit her, this one. Just take care of her."

Bucky's smile is laced with pain, heartache. You don't see him like this often either. You nod at him. "Of course."

What you find in your room is enough to make you angry. Nat's got a fair few bruises, and it makes you want to track down the bastard(s) that managed to leave such a mark on her soul.

She's sat on the end of the bed, glancing over the hand shaped mark on her arm where she'd been grabbed and thrown just hours earlier. She's not even mad that she let her guard down. Normally she'd be upset with herself, but she can't think about it.

You perch at the head of the bed against the pillows, beckoning her over in a gentle tone. She settles into your side and curls an arm around you tightly, as if she's frightened you'll leave. It only makes you grip her tighter.

Peppering gentle kisses to the side of her face, she sighs in relief and sinks somehow deeper into you, nuzzling into your neck. You're warm, familiar, comforting, you're everything she needs in a time of need.

"Thank you," she whispers against your skin.

"For what, baby?"

"Being here when I need you."

You smile softly, raising a hand to her face and brushing your fingers across her cheek. You kiss her softly, slowly, so gentle she has to pull you even closer so you'll kiss her firmer. Your lips move against hers and it might just be the highlight of Natasha's day, feeling you like this.

"You don't ever have to thank me. You know that's what I'm here for." You continue stroking her cheek, down her neck, and back up. Touches like this are her favourite. It warms her heart when she remembers the bruise on the side of her face, and the fact that your touch is so gentle against her skin that the contact with the bruise doesn't bother her even a little bit. "I love you."

Natasha hums softly, moving to lay on top of you now. She kisses you again, whispering against your mouth. "I love you."

You hold her close, hands running across her hips, fingers trailing up her back. She lays on you, nuzzled in and as close as possible. You don't ever want either of you to move, this is where you're content. This is your happy place.

She's relaxed now, happier, and you know today's at the back of her mind still but for a moment, she can forget about it. She feels safe now, comforted. You're her happy place, her everything, her lifeline. To her, you make it worth it.

"Get some sleep for me okay?" You murmur into her hair.

You feel her nod against where she lays on your chest. "Only if i can stay here."

You give a soft laugh, rubbing a hand up her back and tangling into red hair. "Always."

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #avengers x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff drabble #natasha romanoff angst

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star-xxx1 · 7 months

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Cervix kisses 18+

Stalker! Pervert! Best friend! Natasha x fem!reader.

Warnings: G!p Natasha, dub-con, Somo, masterbation, a bit of a breeding kink, dom Natasha, praise kink and degradation kink, stalking, pantie stealing, pictures (idk what to call it), groping, mommy kink.

A/n: In order of kinktober, even though I am not doing it I thought I should at least do one, right? Natasha is a lot of things here.

A faint luminescence emanated throughout the void, casting ghostly shadows on the walls and floor. soft, guttural sounds along with heavy panting filled the room. Your name gentle rolling off Natashas tounge as she moved her hand frantically up and down on her thick shaft. The sound of water running and skin slapping echoed in the room, providing a sensual backdrop to Natasha's lewd performance. She continued to watch you through the hidden camera that she had installed In your shower, capturing your evey move.

You hummed to yourself while scrubbing your body with the soapy loofah, having no idea that you were be watched. A pair of your panties were wrapped around Natashas dick as she jerked off to the site of your beautiful body, wishing it were your soft hand instead of hers. You had no clue that they were in the hands of your bestfriend. You thought you had just lost them around the house. Natasha stole them whilst you were sleeping, on one of your many sleepovers you guys enjoyed. She sniffed them before stuffing them into her bag, the smell of your prefect pussy lingering on them causing her strained cock to become even harder.

Her eyes glued to the screen, her hand squeezing her pulsating sex harder. her breathing hitching as she neared climax. she threw her head back into the soft, fluffy pillow with a moan and arched her spine, her orgasm washing over her like a tidal wide. Thick ropes of cum squirting out and drenching your panties. Natasha's body shuddered under the force of her orgasm, eyes squeezed tightly shut as she rode out the intense sensation. Finally, she opened them again, focusing on your figure in the shower once more.

"See you soon, pretty girl." She whispered out, throwing your cum soaked panties to the side. She shut the laptop. Standing up to shower herself, getting ready for the sleepover that you both planned today.

Two hands roughly grabbed your waist. It was the only sensation you could feel. The white soft bedding was nothing compared to Natasha's hands on your body. She pulled you into her front as you wrapped your arm around, entangling your legs together. She kissed your rosy cheek, and you smiled. "What did you love most about today?" Your voice came out smooth as slik.

They was so much to pick out of. The time when you needed help getting your bra off, and you exposed your back to Natasha asking her to unclip it. She pulled you down onto her lap abruptly. She wasn't embarrassed that she knew you could feel her hard on, biting her lip to stifle a moan at the pressure, as she aided you. Or when you bent over numerous times to get stuff out of the counters. Or when you need her help to reach something, she grabbed your hips and lifted you, pining you against the marbel counter with her crotch, whilst her hands roamed up dangerous, close to your plush boobs. Or...

There was just so much that Natasha got to go with you today, being able to touch you in places where you wouldn't allow anyone else to. You and Natasha had a very flirty friendship and were so comfortable with each other. You would pee with the door open, get dressed in front of her, share all your secrets, and she would do all the same back to you. Only if you knew that it only fueled her sexual desire to break you into her toy, dominate you, be your only source of comfort. And even in the friendish zone, she controlled you. It was like you were both obsessed with each other, telling each other every detail. The number of times that you had been mistaken as her girlfriend were astronomical because of how lovey you guys were for 'just friends', but you couldn't lie. You definitely had caught feeling for the redhead, maybe even more...

"I don't have a favourite. I love doing everything with you." She whispered into the cold night air. "Aw, that's sweet and kinda cheesy." You joked out. She chuckled and held you closer. "Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, Natty." You nuzzled your head into Natashas chest. Her clothed breasts develop your face whole.

Natasha adored your light snores. She found them adorable. Her hand coming down to caress the smooth swell of your ass, which stuck out of your flimsy sleep shorts. 'I bet you're so nice and tight,' she thought to herself, squeezing the soft flesh. She couldn't help but fanitise about you. Your curves and your shape were perfect in Nat's eyes.

"Natasha." The name came tumbling from your mouth In a moan like manner. She stared at you, wondering if you had woken up and felt her rough hands on your ass. But no, you were still fast asleep. "Dreaming about me, princess?" She whispered into your ear, carefully biting it.

She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and got up for the bed, making sure not to wake you up. Natasha carefully turned you on okay the back, lifting up your shirt. Your pretty pink nipples are standing tall and proud. "So precious." She cooed. She lovingly kissed your breasts valley.

Natasha started taking pictures of your bare breasts, and you cute buds. Your ass too. She couldn't wait to add this to her collection of your body. She had them on her phone to view at any time, pictures on her wall that she took down when you came over, and in scrapbooks. She just loved you very much.

After taking around 30 pictures, she stopped, getting back into the comfy bed and wrapping her arms around you. She stared at your boobs. Her hard on getting painful. "You look so peaceful when sleeping, princess." Her hands ducking into her boxers, pulling out her thick cock.

"Natasha." Came the name out your plump lips again, your unconscious form shifting a bit. "I know, baby, it will all be okay." She fake pouted. Natasha moved your legs apart, settling in between them. Rubbing your clothed pussy.

"I've been waiting so long for you, baby." Natasha dragged the cotton materiel down your legs. Looking down at your panties, she saw the thick layer of slick. your pussy glistening in the moonlight. "A wet dream, huh?" She teased. She came to hover above you, each hand planted firmly beside your head. She stared at your soft face, kissing your forehead. "This is going to be so good doll."

She smirks as she positions her cock at your dripping entrance. With a gentle push, she slides into your wet pussy, filling you up. She groaned and bit her lip to contain herself. Slowly and gently, she begins to thrust into you, her hands running up and down your sides soothingly as she takes you slowly. her breath warm against your neck as she continues her slow, sensual rhythm. The tip of her cock rubs against your sensitive inner walls, causing tiny jolts of pleasure to run through you. You suddenly jolted awake with a loud moan. Natasha's eyes flashed as she saw you wake up, She leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered.

"Baby, you're tight." her meaty shaft sending sharp waves of pleasure shooting through your body. "Fuck yes baby, mommy's cock is deep inside you. You feel so good wrapped around me."

You couldn't stop the moans that spilt out of you as the redhead used you for her pleasure. You tried to wiggle away, but her strong hands firmly held you in place. "Natty!" You gasped out as she slapped your thigh. "You can't fucking run slut" her hand came to cover your mouth, preventing your cries. Salty Tears rolled down your face, not from fear, no pleasure. "You promise to be good?" Her hips came to a halt, you let out a loud muffled whine, as you nodded profusely. Natasha laughed at your pathetic little self. her breath warm against your skin. She let go of your face, her fingers moving to play with your nipples gently as she begins building up the intensity as she goes. Your arms go to wrap around her back, holding her close.

Feeling your arms wrap around her, Natasha leans into the embrace, her body flush against yours. Her thrusts become deeper and harder now, pushing herself fully inside you with each stroke. "That's it, baby. Take mommy's big cock." You moans mixed together like a lustful harmony. "Fuck, you feel so good," Natasha groans out, her hips pushing into yours with more force as she hits deep inside you once again. "Mommy loves you, baby girl." She peppered your forehead with kisses as your mind slowly started to drift off into a land full of pleasure.

"I love you too." You whimper out.

"My little cumdump," She smirks, a calculating bossiness lacing her tone. Her hips begin to grind against yours once more, taking control of their shared rhythm. "You're so fucking sexy when you take my cock like this. You want me to fill this pretty pussy with my babies?" Her cock tip perfectly kissing your cervix sending pleasure through out your body as you clawed at her back. "Mommy!" You cried out, her cock nuzzled perfectly into you. Natasha's nails dig into your hips as she leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Her tongue dives into your mouth, exploring and claiming territory as she continues to pound into you. "Letting you best friend fuck you like this? Such a desperate whore." She said looking down at your, with was twisted in pleasure. "Y-your whore." You stutter out. Becoming nothing more but a mindless bitch for the addicting redhead. Natasha chuckles softly as she feels you start to twitch and squirm beneath her, her thrusts becoming more erratic and intense as she nears the edge herself. "That's it, baby. Let mommy watch your pretty face as you cum."

She groans out, her hips bucking wildly as she feels your cum surrounding her cock. Then, with one powerful thrust, she releases herself into you, filling you up with her hot seed as you scream in pleasure. She pants heavily, her body shuddering from the intense orgasm. Her eyes meet yours, filled with satisfaction and love. Natasha smiles softly as she feels your body shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Her hips continue to grind against yours, her cock still buried deep inside you as she rides out her own pleasure. She pulls out of you, leaving your trembling body, your abused cunt sticky with combined fluids. "That was quite the show, baby girl."

"Natasha." You whined out feeling vulnerable after being fucked so harshly by her.

"Shhh." She soothed you.

You felt your pussy gaping, her cum dripping out of you. You whined as you felt your sensitive body begin pulled and up manhandled. She sat you in her lap, your eyes heavily. But before you fell into sweet sleep, you heard your best friends voice. "Can I get a kiss, baby?" You nodded, eyesight hazy. You captured her lips in a sweet, lovingly kiss before falling deep alseep, fucked out. She chuckled and kissed your forehead before lifting up your limp body and taking you to the bathroom. She was going to give you the best aftercare since you were now her perfect princess. Well, you always were.

How do we feel about this? Please give feedback and reblog. I hope you enjoyed <3

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writershapeholeonthedoor · 6 months

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Mayores

Pairing: Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Someone sends you flowers and your girlfriend isn't happy about it.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. Also, this was requested by one of you. Thank you for the request, anon!

MASTERLIST

You spent most of your life being disappointed at all the people you tried to date.

Don't take it the wrong way, but there was always something that displeased you in a way that you couldn’t brush off. Your first girlfriend would do overly romantic gestures that you were fairly sure she was getting ideas from the rom-com she was fascinated with. The relationship didn’t last that long, although she kept the record of the most amount of gifts any girlfriend ever gave you for many years after that. The girl that came after her was the complete opposite, difficult to show any emotions and very closed off. You fell hard, of course, and had your heart broken several times by her. She cheated, she lied, she manipulated, and she wouldn’t even tell you she loved you unless it was when you found out about another one of her affairs. You made yourself go through that hell for nearly three years.

After that, you vowed to give yourself some time to recover, to be alone and think about your own life. You were almost done with college at that point but that didn’t stop you from suddenly becoming the party girl you couldn’t be for the last few years. None of your one-night stands were remarkable enough for you to want a second round with them, even when some would ask and beg for it. It was fun, but you also met every type of girl in your adventures.

When you finally met someone again and tried to start a new relationship, things just didn’t work out. No dramas, it just didn’t. It was nice at first, but the spark was gone so fast that you two became friends very quickly. You were done with college soon after you broke up, so you packed your things and moved to NY.

It's not like you made a conscious decision not to date anyone. You didn’t put any walls around your heart or anything like that. What happened was that no one seemed to be able to catch your attention for more than a few dates. It was like they would bore you somehow, which was insane to think because you were sure they were all great people.

Just not the right ones for you.

So you kept living in NY while going through a small rampage of quick dates. You found a job, you started your career, you got yourself a nice apartment that was way more expensive than you thought it should be, you made some friends, and you lived the freedom of the early twenties.

Until you met her.

Scarlett Johansson popped up in your life out of nowhere, as if she had appeared out of thin air, but she soon proved to be very different from anyone else you knew. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what made her so different from the rest, but you figured it out after a while. She was older than you, she was already divorced, she had experience. She had experience.

It didn’t take long for you to fall for her, head first and without going back. How could you not? How could you not fall for her when she did things that no one else had ever done for you?

Scarlett would open the doors for you - and it would never fail to make you blush. She would bring you flowers, but not only when she was picking you up for a date - no, she was always pampering you with flowers, sometimes sending you a bouquet even when she was traveling and currently on the other side of the ocean. She would treat you to fancy dinners and expensive wines, and take you to try dishes you never even heard about. She would call you "darling" and kiss your cheek in public, although she wasn’t usually holding your hand - her hand was normally at your lower back, guiding you gently but with no hesitation. Scarlett would give you small gifts all the time too - you picked up on the fact that you would talk about a book you wanted to read one day and said book would be waiting for you in the next one. Scarlett even renounced her side of the bed because that was your favorite.

Overall, Scarlett was a true gentleman.

Except when you were inside the bedroom.

Oh, when you were inside the bedroom things were very different.

She never truly forewent her gentleman persona since she would whisper sweet nothings in your ear while pounding you mercilessly on the bed. Scarlett would pull your hair and kiss your jaw sweetly at the same time. She would ruin you and then go up your body kissing every inch of your skin while also telling you how good you were. She would call you a slut and, after you had the best orgasm in your life, she would prepare you a hot bath where she would rub your feet and tell you how much she loves you.

That’s why you were so damn surprised with the conversation that took place that night.

“Thank you for the flowers,” you said while peeling a potato.

Scarlett was cutting up bacon into cubes beside you, but she hit the knife a bit harder after she heard what you said. “I didn’t send you flowers.”

She looked at you with one quirked eyebrow, clearly asking you for more information, but you were too busy trying to fight back a blush. When you were called in the middle of your workday to go to the reception table to sign off a delivery, you were already halfway expecting it to be flowers. Scarlett didn’t make a habit of sending things to your work - unless you shamefully admitted you skipped a meal and she made a goal of trying to feed you - but you also never received anything unless it wasn’t for something Scarlett sent you.

So, when you got there and saw the bouquet, you immediately assumed it had been from your girlfriend, although you didn’t have time to send her a quick text to thank her because you needed to rush for a meeting and couldn’t take your phone with you. You were busy until closing hours and, since you had plans with Scarlett that night, you didn’t bother texting her, just deciding to thank her in person.

Which was what you were trying to do.

“What do you mean?” You asked with your head tilted to the side.

“I didn’t send you anything,” Scarlett repeated, now putting the knife down to fully look at you. “You received flowers today?”

“Yes,” you still sounded confused when you also stopped peeling the potatoes. “It wasn’t you?”

“No, no it wasn’t.” Her voice was firm now, leaving no room for arguments, and you could see her jaw clenching a bit. “Who sent you flowers?”

“Babe, I thought it was you!” You were fast to try to explain, even though you weren’t exactly sure how you could explain something like that. “I don’t know who - Oh.”

Oh, indeed.

The thought crossed your mind while you were talking, but that was the only thing that could make sense. If Scarlett hadn’t been the one to send you the flowers, there was only one other option for who did it. And it was bad because, sure, you didn’t want to receive flowers from anyone but your girlfriend, but the fact that it was that particular person who did it made it a thousand times worse.

Scarlett must have picked on your reaction because she raised one eyebrow at you, clearly not amused at all. “What does ‘oh’ mean?” You didn’t reply since you weren’t sure if it was a good idea to do so, although it only resulted in Scarlett crossing her arms while she glared at you. “Y/N.”

It was a warning, you knew that much. It usually happened when you were making too much noise when she was fucking you somewhere you might get caught or when you tried to distract her from her work by walking around naked around the house. It always came to you to decide if you would take the risk to keep pushing your limits or if you would back down - and, of course, sometimes you just kept pushing just to see what she would do to you.

That wasn’t the time for that, though.

The mood wasn’t set for sexy times. Scarlett seemed mad and impatient.

“Uh, I might know who sent them,” you admitted and watched as her eyes narrowed. “Are you sure it wasn’t you, though? Maybe you forgot about it.”

“Forgot?” Scarlett repeated the word with a scoff. “I would’ve done it in my sleep for me not to be able to remember if I sent my girlfriend flowers or not.”

Well, fine, so there was no hope for you. “Okay.” You bit your bottom lip and looked down at your feet. “Don’t be mad,” you plead in a whisper.

You were still looking down, but you heard Scarlett sighing before you felt her soft hands touching your face. She prompted you to raise your head, which you did, and you saw she was making an effort to wash the anger from her features. “I’m not mad,” Scarlett said and, despite it all, she sounded honest. Her thumbs were making soothing circles on your cheeks and you felt yourself relaxing when she smiled at you. “I’m sorry if it looked like I was. I was just caught off guard, that’s all.”

You nodded to let her know it was okay, but you still whimpered a bit. “It’s not really my fault.”

“I know it’s not.” Scarlett pulled you for a hug, making you rest your head on her shoulder as she kissed your forehead. “I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was mad at you.”

You knew she wouldn’t actually be mad with you about it. Scarlett was way more laid back about it than you, for sure, so you weren’t honestly worried about it even for a second. If things happened the other way around - if Scarlett had been the one receiving flowers from someone who was trying to hit on her - you would be livid too. Not at her - the same way her anger wasn’t directed at you - but you also would’ve been in a much worse mood.

No one could blame you for pushing things a little bit, though. Not really. Because you knew Scarlett would comfort you and that she would jump in to make you feel safe in her arms, loved and cared for - and maybe that’s the exact reason you always pushed your limits around her.

“I, uh, I might know who sent them,” you declared once you pulled away a bit shyly. Scarlett nodded in encouragement for you to keep talking, so you did. “I had a meeting yesterday with someone from another company. It was just business, really, but I noticed that this guy wouldn’t stop looking at me and, when the meeting was over, he walked towards me to ask for my number so we could ‘discuss more personal matters’.” You made the quotation marks with your fingers while you rolled your eyes at the memory. It had pissed you off the day before and it was pissing you off again now that you were remembering it. “I told him I wasn’t interested and he walked away. I thought he got the message.” The last part was said with a groan as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

That made Scarlett’s expression shift to something assembling worry and concern. “Has he made you uncomfortable?”

“Just annoyed,” you sighed and shrugged. “He didn’t insist. But he apparently sent me flowers today, so I don’t know how I feel about that.” The conversation with the man had been strictly professional and you couldn’t imagine what happened to make him think he could send you flowers like that. You did care that he hadn’t taken the hint and was insisting, but, at the same time, you couldn’t care less if he suddenly had a crush on you. You had the most perfect woman beside you, you didn’t need or want anyone else.

Scarlett nodded and leaned to kiss your forehead again, more firmly now to offer you some comfort, before she offered you a grin. “Well, if he tries something like that again, you let me know,” she asked before her grin became a bit devious. “I could ask Hemsworth to give him a piece of mind.”

You laughed as you pictured the scene. A man like Hemsworth - a muscle mountain - walking inside someone’s office to defend your honor on Scarlett’s behalf. “I think he would shit his pants if he ever saw Hemsworth in front of him.”

“That would work perfectly for me.�� Scarlett shrugged, now sounding amused about the whole thing.

You chuckled happily and gave your girlfriend a quick peck. “Thank you. There’s no need to call in anyone in this situation. Yet,” you added as a later thought, noticing how Scarlett got serious again. “I promise I will tell you it keeps happening. If he sends me something else, I will go to my boss about it as well. He might do something about it.” The man worked for a company that your boss was thinking about making some transactions, so that could actually work in your favor if he decides to give the dude a little scare. Your boss was an older man with four daughters and seven granddaughters. You were sure he would be even angrier than Scarlett if he ever heard about that story.

“Okay,” your girlfriend conceded. “I will let you handle that for now, but you come to me if you need any help. Deal?”

“Deal,” you agreed quickly with a little smile, happy to be given that trust to handle things for yourself first.

You loved it when Scarlett took over to solve your problems because you trusted her blindly to always make the best decisions and to get things done. Sometimes you got too overwhelmed by everything and it was nice to rely on someone else. This time, however, you were sure you could deal with things alone. You would get to your office the next day and send the guy a very straightforward email to let him know he shouldn’t be sending you any more gifts and that your conversations would remain only work related, and see how things go after that.

The best part of having someone like Scarlett was that you knew that, if things didn’t work out how you wanted them to, you could come to her at any time and she would jump right in to help you. You knew that she wouldn’t actually call her castmate to help scare some grow-up man - logistically, it would be hard to do it since Hemsworth was currently in his home back in Australia - but Scarlett was a very skilled woman herself. She would know no boundaries to protect you.

With that in mind, you placed your arms around her shoulders, letting your wrists meet behind her neck, and took a step forward to get closer to her. “My knight in shining armor,” you sang provocatively before giving her a kiss.

“Hm,” Scarlett moaned against your mouth, causing a content sigh to escape your lips and you both pulled away a few inches. “Maybe he needs to know that you’re taken,” she suggested.

“Oh, I am?” You tried to sound as innocent as possible, though you knew it just sounded like you were teasing her. You didn’t care. The mood had shifted and you now wanted to push your limits again.

“Yes.’ Scarlett’s voice was firm, but it was the way that her hands gripped your hips to pull you against her that made you gasp. “Haven’t you noticed it yet? That you’re mine.” She was smiling now, her green eyes going darker by the second, and you suddenly felt like you were a few seconds away from dying right then and there. “All mine,” Scarlett whispered with a hoarse tone and your knees lost some of their strength.

“I know.” You eagerly nodded because, yes, you knew that. You made yourself hers.

Scarlett smiled even brighter and she leaned over to hide her face in the crook of your neck. You felt her lips brushing against your skin, although she didn’t touch you. “Do you really? Maybe a reminder would do some good.” Finally, an open-mouthed kiss was pressed against your pulse point and you felt goosebumps going up and down your spine. “Maybe a little mark so everyone knows you belong to someone else.”

“Scarlett,” you moaned both at her words and the sensation of her tongue darting out to lick a path on your skin.

“Yes, darling?” Scarlett sounded amused, which almost made you roll your eyes at her.

“If you don’t take me to your room right now to keep up your word, I will be sending your flowers back from now on,” you threatened and, even if you both knew it was a blatant lie, it did the trick.

“Hm, we can’t let that happen,” Scarlett joked before she pulled away to look at you again.

The next day, you came back from a meeting and saw a life-sized bouquet on top of your desk with a small card written in Scarlett’s beautiful cursive letter.

“To my beautiful girlfriend,

You own my love

and I promise to protect your heart.

SJ”

You decided to forego the email idea. No, you would do something even better. You would call the stupid man to your office so he could see for himself that he was nothing compared to your girlfriend.

And, if you had three new hickeys in your neck that he might see, well, that was just a consequence.

#scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson x reader #celebrity x reader #marvel #black widow #natasha romanoff #fanfic #creative writing #my writing #drabble #fluff #slightly spicy

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ichorai · 1 year

Text

the scientist & the assassin ; natasha romanoff.

read part two ; afterlife.

pairing ; natasha romanoff x gn!scientist!reader

synopsis ; fragments of time with your girlfriend, soon-to-be-wife, natasha.

words ; 4.4k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, established relationship, scientist au

warnings / includes ; a bit of cursing, blood/injury, set before civil war era, avengers found family trope idec, sexual innuendos, bucky and sam annoying reader lol, steve being an absolute sweetheart, mentions of fire, liho cameo, mentions of yelena

main masterlist.

JANUARY.

Small sparks flew up from the welding torch as you worked the blue flame over the metal, eyes narrowed with concentration. It was a delicate process, and you were taking extra caution not to mess the process up. You were building new protective gear on Nick Fury’s request, and had to make sure that it was without fault.

Your girlfriend of three years, however, clearly had other plans. Natasha was leaning against your workbench, brows quirked as she repeated the question that had flown right over your head in the midst of your fixation.

You hastily turned the fire off and shoved the protective welding mask away from your face so you could properly look at her. “Huh? Did you say something?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, though not without a ghost of a grin to her lips. With a sigh, she asked the question for a third time. “I know you’re busy making all your little gizmos and gadgets… but are you coming to Tony’s party?”

A beat of silence. You blinked in confusion. It was only then did you realize that your girlfriend was all dressed up, face dolled up with flawless makeup, donned in a silken, viridescent dress that complimented her figure beautifully. “What party?”

“The annual New Years’ party—Tony’s asked you to come a million times. You’re not gonna leave me all alone with him, are you?” Natasha asked, walking closer to you until her nose was only an inch from yours, placing her hands on the lapels of your lab coat, tugging you closer.

A gulp lodged in your throat. “No, ma’am,” you murmured, lips dipping forward to catch hers.

She leaned back before you could, however, tilting her head expectedly. There was a playful glint to the deep green of her irises. “Go get ready, then. I already laid out a matching outfit for you to save you the hassle. Who knows… maybe we can leave a bit early too…”

Before she could finish her sentence, you were already shirking off your white coat, hurrying out of the laboratory to get changed for the party. Natasha couldn’t help the amused smile gracing the corner of her lips as she watched you scramble away.

FEBRUARY.

Blood dripped from her cheek. Her hair, her dress, her legs. She was drenched in it.

A shuddering sigh of exhaust fell from her split lips. She gingerly slipped out of her heels, holding the two of them in one hand and walking up to the house barefoot.

“Nat,” you whispered in part-horror, part-concern at her bloodied state when you swung the door open.

“It’s not mine,” she hoarsely mumbled, slipping past you, bee-lining towards the bathroom, in dire need of some cleaning.

Her eyes were heavy with fatigue, plagued with memories of the bloodbath of a mission. There were many questions you wanted to ask her, but you held your tongue. She was in no state to answer your barrage of queries, and needed nothing more than someone to care for her, for a change.

Gently, you took her crimson-slickened hands within yours, uncaring of the blood smearing on your skin. You led her to the rest of the way to the bathroom, gently telling her to take a seat on the edge of the bathtub. A small towel cloth was dampened beneath the faucet, and you slowly cleaned off the delicate wounds littered over her arms, her face, and her abdomen. The two of you were completely silent, basking in the comfort of being there for each other. Natasha’s green eyes shone with simultaneous gratitude and hollow trauma. For a moment, it appeared as if she was going to weep, but she kept the tears at bay.

Once you cleaned off most of the blood, you left the bathroom to fetch her some of her sleep clothes—which was really just a worn, sleeveless shirt of some obscure rock band you didn’t recognize, and a soft pair of basketball shorts. She had wiped away the rest of the blood when you came back, stripping her outer layers and shirking them into the sink to wash later.

For now, the both of you just needed to sleep.

She slipped on the pajamas, before settling into the bed with a lethargic sigh.

“Thank you,” she croaked out just as you clambered beneath the blankets on the other side of the large bed.

You hummed in response, roping her close to you, pressing a soft kiss to her hairline. This time, Natasha had to willfully force the urge to cry away.

“Get some rest, Nat. I love you,” you said into her skin.

Natasha relaxed into your hold, eyes drooping shut. She wanted to say that she loved you back, but found that she was already falling into a deep slumber.

MARCH.

“What about Jennifer? She’s in the analytics department,” said Natasha, sipping on her iced tea as she eyed Steve expectantly. “I can set you up with her if you want.”

The blonde man shifted uncomfortably. “I… I don’t know, Nat—”

“For God’s sake, Nat, stop it already!” you exclaimed, but not without an exasperated smile to your lips. “Look at him, you’re embarrassing the poor guy. Sorry, Steve—she’s just looking out for you.”

The hundred-year-old man smiled handsomely, forking some scrambled eggs into his mouth. “It’s fine. I’m not really looking to date at the moment… still trying to figure out how things work this century before I can really settle down.”

“Well, you take your time, Steve,” you told him gently.

“You sure? Rumor has it Allison from human resources has had her eye on you for a while—ow! I was joking!” she exclaimed when you sharply elbowed her in the ribs. “But, really, Cap… I’m happy you’re taking your time.”

The blonde hummed gratefully. “What about you two? Any plans on…” He gestured vaguely, which made you and Natasha glance at each other with a grin.

Your girlfriend scoffed, the green of her eyes glimmering with mirth. “Why? You wanna be the best man?”

Steve seemed to splutter at that, vehemently trying to backtrack. Heat flushed his cheeks a soft pink hue.

“I’m just pulling your leg, Steve,” Natasha quipped, playfully kicking at his foot beneath the table. “Lighten up, will you?”

“We haven’t even spoken about marriage yet,” you chimed in, smiling warmly at the ex-assassin. “But who knows? Maybe we will soon.”

APRIL.

Nails tapped loudly against the surface of the table she was sitting on, legs crossed as she languidly leaned back, staring up at the artificial white lights of the laboratory. She was saying something—something about her last mission with Tony.

Judging by her expression you quickly stole a glance at, you could tell that she was complaining. There was a slight knit to her brow, and she was frowning ever so slightly.

You made quiet, absentminded noises of acknowledgement as she told her story, nodding emphatically. You were working on a device to immediately disable strong magnetic fields, tinkering with the small bits and pieces with narrowed eyes.

“I don’t know, maybe I should just stop worrying about him—it’s not my problem if Tony drinks until he can barely stand up…”

She trailed off, tilting her head back down to watch you work. With an amused scoff, she said your name. Without taking your eyes off your work, you merely hummed, “Mhm?”

“You haven’t listened to a single word I’ve said, have you?”

Hopping down from the table, she made her way closer to you, her fingers nimbly slotting beneath your chin. You met her gaze, briefly glancing down at her parted lips, skin flushing with embarrassment.

Sheepish, you grinned apologetically. “Sorry, Nat.” She arched a sharp brow and you winced. “I love you…?”

Rolling her eyes, Natasha acquiesced, a ghost of a grin tracing the corner of her lips. “I love you, too.” She let you go to haul herself back up onto the table, swinging her legs in an almost child-like manner. “Anyways, as I was saying…”

MAY.

Sunglasses, glasses of chilled orange juice, and warm sand beneath your feet.

Closer to the beach’s shallow waves, Bruce, Steve, and Clint were playing with a frisbee, while Tony and Thor were off on a ski-boat, skimming across the waters much faster than they probably should be going. The team was on a little mini-vacation, needing some well-deserved rest after going on nonstop, continuous missions.

A book was cracked open on your lap, one that you had been meaning to start for ages now, but never had the time before. Beside you was your girlfriend, lathering sunscreen over her arms and exposed skin. “Did you put on sunscreen?” she asked you, offering the bottle.

“Yeah,” you replied, prying your eyes away from the novel to press a kiss to her cheek, and then another to the side of her nose.

She grinned beautifully, the green of her eyes gleaming with fondness. “You’re such a nerd. Who brings a book to the beach?”

“Well… look who’s dating the nerd who brought a book to the beach?” you replied with a level tone, trying your best to suppress your growing smile.

Huffing in amusement, Natasha lightly shoved you, taking another sip of her orange juice. “God, it just feels like we never get to fully relax like this, you know? I wish every day could be like this.”

Shutting your book, you placed it off to the side and shuffled closer to her, curling an arm over her shoulders.

“Yeah,” you hummed, tracing aimless shapes along the skin of her arm. Hesitant, you spoke up again, “Hey, you remember when Steve asked us about getting married?”

“Mhm?”

“Well, uhm…” you started, but thought better of it, not wanting to ruin such a perfect moment as this one by forcing your girlfriend into a commitment you weren’t even sure she really wanted.

When you trailed off, Natasha pulled away from you slightly, her head cocked in an expectant manner.

“If you’re not gonna ask me, then I will,” she told you with a laugh to her voice. “You wanna get married?”

For a moment, you spluttered for words, not expecting this turn of events.

“You… Nat, are you sure?” you rasped, cupping her face gently. “I don’t want you to rush into anything. Yes, a thousand times yes, but fair warning—it means you’ll be stuck with me forever. Forever is like… a really long time.”

Natasha hummed, leaning forward until your nose brushed against hers. Gods, you loved this woman so fucking much.

“Sounds like a nightmare,” she whispered, a ghost of a smile to her lips. “Sign me up.”

With that, she kissed you, tasting of orange juice and a tiny bit of sunscreen.

JUNE.

Sam and Bucky hovered around your lab like a pair of incessant flies that wouldn’t go away, no matter how much you swatted at them.

“Don’t touch that, Bucky,” you found yourself saying nearly twenty times, followed by an exasperated sigh as he would proceed to prod and poke at the machinery.

Sam was no better, asking you about a million questions in regard to all the different gadgets and gizmos in progress.

On a normal day, you usually wouldn’t let these two into your lab, but you were ordered to fix and improve both of their broken comm links, and made the terrible mistake of inviting them to come watch. Of course, they grew bored of watching you toy with wires and circuits, opting to wander around your lab with wide, curious eyes.

“Hey, what’s this?” Sam asked, holding up a small, black cube half the size of his palm.

“Collapsible motorcycle,” you replied, briefly glancing at him, before returning your gaze to your work on the table. “Just don’t press the button on the bottom.”

Whistling with clear impression, Sam looked nearly tempted to try it out. But he knew you would slice his hand off if he did, so he set the cube back down. “That’s sick, man. Who’s it for?”

“Nat,” you said. “Made it for her. It’s still in its testing phase—I’m hoping it'll be all done and ready by her birthday.”

Bucky glanced over Sam’s shoulder to look at the cube. “I like riding motorbikes,” he said. “Could you make me one?”

“Unless you could get Fury to order me, that’s a no,” you huffed out with a mild laugh. “I barely agreed to fix your comms for you—which, by the way, how did you even break them this bad? Did you guys pour a bucket of water over and stomp on them, or something?”

At the memory of Bucky and Sam both accidentally tumbling into a river during a mission, they both grimaced.

“Something like that, sure,” said the century-old man, wearily pulling at his face.

“That’s not fair,” Sam, a full grown man, just about whined. You halted in your ministrations, raising a brow. “How come you don’t make us any fancy little tools or weapons or bikes or magical gizmos, but you make ‘em for Nat?”

Scoffing, you dipped your head back down to continue polishing off their comms. “Yeah, well, she’s my fiance.”

“And?” said Sam, placing his hands on his hips. “Am I not your best friend? Is Mr. Cyborg here not your second best friend?”

Another deeply amused laugh rumbled from within your chest. “With how you two are behaving, I’d say Steve is my best friend right now.”

The two were left sulking in your lab for the next hour, with Bucky nearly catching on fire when he picked up a flamethrower disguised as a potted plant. Both of them left with charred fingers, singed eyebrows, and about half a dozen of your tiny gadgets stuffed within their pockets.

JULY.

It was Steve’s birthday, which meant Natasha organized a barbecue in Clint’s large backyard. There were red, white, and blue streamers hung up over the trees and over the house’s porch, several star-shaped lanterns decorating the wooden tables set out. Bruce and Tony were manning the grills, while you were playing a game of catch with Peter and Clint’s kids. The rest of the Avengers were gathered by one of the tables, piling up their plates high with food.

The air was heavy with the mouth-watering aroma of cooking hot dogs, grilled corn, and juicy burgers. Dessert was an assortment of cookies, an array of melting popsicles, and a large blue birthday cake that made Steve smile so wide it was yet to leave his face.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Natasha speaking to Thor, her hand extended out to him as the God inspected the ring on her finger.

“A grand ring, that is!” the Norse God bellowed. “Green suits you, Natasha.”

“Thanks, Thor,” said your fiance, grinning warmly. The two walked off to grab some hotdog buns and harass Tony to hurry up with cooking.

The ball nearly hit you in the face because you were so busy staring at Natasha, stopping inches from your nose when Peter darted forward with his near inhumane reaction time to grab it away.

“Woah!” he exclaimed, afraid to have accidentally hurt you by hurling a fast ball at you when you weren’t even paying attention. “Sorry, are you okay? What are you looking at?”

You pursed your lips, glancing one last time at Natasha. A blush creeped up your neck. She was going to marry you soon. How on earth did you get so lucky?

“Nothing, kid. Come on, hand me the ball, why’d you stop?” you cleared your throat in a fruitless attempt to play it off.

Peter followed your line of sight, brows raising when he caught sight of Natasha now showing off her ring to Steve and Bucky. He smiled slightly, but didn’t say anything about it, instead tossing the ball right back to you (which you still somehow missed catching).

AUGUST.

“Here,” you said, handing her the steaming mug of coffee, just how she liked it—dark with a tiny bit of sugar. “You okay? You’ve been more quiet than usual the past few days.”

The two of you leaned against the balcony’s railing, watching the sun rise over the cityscape, painting the sky a myriad of soft oranges and clementines and tangerines. With your free hand, the other being occupied by your own hot cup of tea, you wrapped around Natasha’s waist, tugging her close. You pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, brushing an errant strand of hair falling away from her loose braid.

“Sorry, I’ve just recently been thinking,” she whispered, a bit distant. “My sister is out there, somewhere. Sometimes I think it’s best to just give her her space, since she hasn’t reached out, either. Maybe she doesn’t want to see me ever again—after all, I’m a living, breathing reminder of the Red Room. The terrible things we were forced to do. I’m not too upset about it… it’s not like we were a real family, anyway. I don’t know. I guess I just miss her.”

You weren’t entirely sure what to tell her. Go find her sister? Forget about her? Tell her to think about it some more? Natasha rarely ever spoke about her past, much less her temporary ‘fake’ family.

A frown crossed over your lips, brows divoting. “Nat, if your sister really wanted to see you, she would reach out. You’re an Avenger—it’s not that hard to find you. You can’t really say the same about her… you don’t know a single thing about where she might be now. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Natasha sipped on her coffee, blowing out a tired sigh. Tears warbled over her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away, sniffing slightly.

“Do you think she remembers me?” her voice broke just a bit. “Because sometimes I forget what her face looks like. Did she have blue eyes, or were they green like mine? How blonde was her hair? What did her smile look like? I… I’m scared I’ll just completely forget and I won’t ever see her again to—”

“She remembers,” you murmured in response. “You were her sister. She’d remember.”

Another sniffle. Natasha wiped away a stray tear with the back of her hand.

“God, sorry. I’m such a mess,” she croaked, laughing bitterly.

“And I love you anyway,” you told her, kissing her just below her watery eyes. “Come on—let’s go watch some TV.”

SEPTEMBER.

The wedding was a small, quiet event.

You, Natasha, and the rest of the Avengers family were once again gathered in Clint’s expansive yard—though, this time, everybody was dressed much more formally than they had on Steve’s birthday. The ceremony was full of tears and sniffling, tissues and running mascara.

The vows you had written for Nat were long and nearly ramble-y, whilst hers were perfectly short and to-the-point.

Once Bruce had officiated the two of you (having learned how to do so online), you had embraced each other with a watery kiss, grinning against one anothers’ lips. The rest of the group had burst into raucous applause, Tony and Steve the loudest of them all, the two of them being the best men of the wedding.

Then came the food and the dancing, which lasted well into the night.

She was glowing the entire time. Your wife was glowing.

And when you told her so, she smiled, all wide and toothy. “It’s just nervous sweat,” she replied with a laugh as you gripped her waist tighter, before twirling her around in your arms.

“God, I love you,” you murmured, pressing your forehead against hers.

The green of her eyes sparkled with your words. “I love you, too. I can’t believe we’re married now.”

“Take your time,” you hummed. “You’ve got the rest of your life to get used to it.”

OCTOBER.

Your sleeves were rolled up to your elbows, tongue poking out the corner of your mouth. The table was a mess, covered in orange mush, a dozen knives, and your phone playing a video on how to properly carve a pumpkin.

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath when you messed up the shape, letting out a long, drawn-out groan. “Why is this so hard? It’s just a pumpkin!”

When you glanced at Natasha and her fruit, you weren’t at all surprised to see that she was well into carving an intricate, detailed design with wide eye-holes and gnarled teeth.

“It’s not that hard,” she replied with an easy smile, clearly amused at your struggling. “What’s going on with you? You’re usually really good with your hands.”

Heat flushed up your neck and spidered across the skin of your cheeks at the hidden insinuation behind her words. “I don’t know,” you huffed, wiping down your hands on the apron you were wearing. Usually you weren’t one to give up so easily, but you had been tinkering with several new task-droids, and there was no better time than now to test them out.

“What are you doing?” she curiously asked once you slid off your seat, reaching into one of the cabinets to pull out the little cuboid robots. “God, it feels like I’m in a Black Mirror episode,” she murmured, watching them come to life and start carving up your pumpkin for you with tiny microblades after you input a design for them to work on.

“San Junipero Black Mirror or Metalhead Black Mirror?” you replied, propping your face up on an elbow as you watched the small bots diligently work.

Your wife scowled, her sharp brows divoting. “Definitely Metalhead.”

The both of you shuddered, before you dipped forward to press a kiss to her cheek. “I’m gonna make us a batch of cookies—at least that I know I can’t mess up.”

NOVEMBER.

A wince, a frown, an uncomfortable shift. Natasha was used to pain, and was taught from a young age to steel herself, but the wounds usually never got this bad.

There was a deep slash across her stomach, dark blood dousing the entirety of her abdomen, dripping down her sides and leaking off the lab table you had set her on. You tried to be gentle while you cleaned her up, tried to be quick with the stitches to lessen the pain—but the wound was tender and wide, and you had to slow down to be careful.

The entire time, your face bore an expression of pure worry and concern.

“I’m sorry,” she hoarsely whispered, lips twisted into a grimace.

“For what?” you quietly mumbled, focused on fixing her up.

She blew out a pained sigh as you started another stitch. “For making you worry. I shouldn’t have gone on that mission, I know.”

“Well, you did,” you lightly replied, teeth gnashing together. “No reason to dwell on it. It’s okay, Nat. I’m not mad at you.”

There was a beat of silence. She laid back, fists clenched by her sides as she endured through the pain.

“Just disappointed?” she asked, gingerly laughing, despite the pain it brought to her chest.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I am. I just don’t like seeing you pointlessly throwing yourself headfirst into a suicidal mission, just to come crawling back in shreds. I also don’t like seeing you hurt because I love you, and I need you to be more careful for me.”

Natasha pursed her lips. Her green eyes flashed with pain when you wiped away the excess blood. “Okay,” your wife croaked. “I love you, too.”

DECEMBER.

“Open it!” you goaded, nudging Natasha to the suspiciously unwrapped box.

Her green eyes were narrowed as she shot you a warning look. “I swear to God, if a fake snake is gonna come flying out like last time—”

“It’s your birthday, I would never!” you interrupted impatiently, gesturing to the box once more.

With a huff, Natasha peeled back the loose lids of the cardboard box, making a noise of surprise upon seeing a little black cat curled up inside, snoozing contentedly.

“Oh, my God. You got us a little kitty,” she crooned, slowly picking the cat up. The black-pelted feline purred at the contact, nuzzling her dark nose against Natasha’s face. “This is literally the best thing you’ve ever gotten me. It beats anything you’ve ever made for me!”

Clearing your throat, you toyed with the collapsible motorcycle you had hidden in your pocket. “Well… don’t say that too quickly. You wanna name her?”

Natasha stroked the cat’s dark head, her hazel eyes happily blinking shut. “Liho. It means misfortune in Russian—black cats are bad luck, right? She’ll have to prove her name wrong.”

“Liho,” you parroted, smiling so wide it was a wonder your face didn’t split into two.

With a grin, Natasha placed Liho back down on the ground, who took to weaving between both of your legs, her fluffy tail curved around your shins.

“God, I love you,” your wife suddenly announced, cupping your face between her palms and littering several chaste kisses all over your cheeks. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“You’re gonna love me more after this,” you told her, brandishing the small black cuboid from your pocket. “Come on—I’m gonna have to show you this outside. Let’s go, Liho.”

The three of you made your way out of the house, Liho silently following along like a shadow. You beamed brightly at the small cat, then at your wife, who was squinting against the sharp sunlight, smiling nonetheless. It was all so perfect, nearly too good to be true.

Until the collapsible motorcycle burst into flames while you were trying to uncollapse it, which had Natasha yanking the curious Liho away from the growing fire as you ran into the house to grab the extinguisher.

Alright—maybe not entirely perfect… but amazing nonetheless.

“Happy birthday?” you sheepishly said as you doused the flames away. “That was, uh… that was supposed to do that.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, setting Liho back down before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You can clean that up later. Let’s go cut the cake—maybe we can skip on blowing out the candles this year.”

As the three of you made your way back inside the house, Natasha glanced down at the little black cat trotting in front of you. “She’s living up to her name so far. God, I can’t believe you got me a cursed cat for my birthday.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff x gn!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff ff #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #mcu fanfiction #mcu x reader #natasha romanoff angst #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff drabbles

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natsprideandjoy · 6 months

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late nights with nat

it had been a long, tiring day, yet neither you or your girlfriend could sleep. you both lay in bed with your head against her chest as you two simply talk about anything and everything.

“do you ever wish you could leave the avengers and start over?” you randomly ask. natasha looks down at you before answering.

“sometimes”, she replies, “but i know i wouldn’t do a single thing if it meant you weren’t there by my side.

you look up at her, suddenly getting emotional at her sentiment. “i love you”, you say with watery eyes.

“i love you too” she says while leaning down to kiss your forehead, “with everything in me”.

a/n: HELP this is my first time writing so please be respectful. let me know what you guys think!

#natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel #mcu #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha x reader #drabble

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1-read-the-hobbit-in-1937 · 3 months

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Midnight Literature Conversations

Authors Note- If this reaches 100 likes, I'll make a part 2

⚠️ Warnings: Nothing! Pure fluff 😊 English is not my first language so please do not hesitate to let me know if I have any grammar faults.

Pairings- Bucky Barnes x Fem reader

Word Count: 460

Twisting and turning in bed for hours on end had finally convinced me that I wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight. So I decided to go down to the compound kitchen and bake. Baking was my comfort. I always baked a heartfelt banana cake or made a bunch of chocolate chip muffins when I was down.

Reluctantly getting out of bed and putting on my gown, I trudged out of my room, down the hallway to the kitchen. Turning on the dimmed lights, I spotted a figure sitting at the island counter. Upon closer inspection, and rubbing away the sleep from my eyes. I realised it was Bucky.

He had never talked to me. And I had never talked to him either. Steve always told me that he would speak up when he was ready, but since it had been over a month that Bucky had moved into the compound, I just assumed he hated me.

Without another word. I grabbed the milk, eggs and butter from the fridge, setting them down on the table. Along with the flour, apples and cinnamon. Taking my phone out of my pocket, I quickly googled an apple and cinnamon muffin recipe.

Every now and then, I caught Bucky looking up from his book, and eyeing me as I was mixing the ingredients, and making the batter. Eventually, I put the muffins in the oven to bake and sat down next to him.

“What book are you reading?” I spoke up, in a whisper.

“The Hobbit” He replied with a blank expression.

“You into the classics, huh” I said, surprised at his choice of literature.

“I read it when it first came out, in 1937. But it wasn't available in Brooklyn, where I'm originally from. So I had it imported from Cape Town in South Africa. And I managed to get one of the first 100 signed copies.” He responded enthusiastically.

“Wow. So you really like reading.” I added, not expecting the ex super soldier to be so talkative. Especially towards me.

“Yeah. It's my comfort thing. When I have nightmares or if I just want to shut the world out. I read.”

Suddenly leaping up from my seat next to Bucky. I walked over to the oven to take the muffins out. Placing the hot tray on the table, I grabbed a plate from the draw and placed a muffin on it. Sliding the plate over to Bucky.

“You should try it. It might be a bit hot but I'm sure you'll like it. The others love my baking. Especially Sam, He seems to really love my Chocolate Scrolls” I laughed off as I walked back to my room. Looking back for only a second to catch the super soldier smiling back at me.

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the-doomed-witch · 9 months

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hey boo, can u make 1800's reader and married nat having secret affair but reader convinces nat to run away with her somewhere else where they can live and love peacefully, inspired by ivy and the lakes

MAGNIFICENTLY CURSED

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You question your need for running away with the woman you love passionately, but her dreamy desires do it for you anyway. // based on ivy by Taylor Swift; the lakes by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 1.0k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS+MEN DNI. set in the 1800s, infidelity, homophobia + closeting, allusions to smut not really described, nat is like a whole ass poet bro i will cry 😭

SEND ME REQUESTS BASED ON TAYLOR SWIFT SONGS

Author’s Note: hi anon, i hope this justifies your request <3 obviously this is emisue-dead poets society-anne with an e-elizabeth bennet coded bc i’m a raging lesbian with an obsession with the 1800s for no reason at all🤭

MASTERLIST // NAVIGATION

— ✦ —

Stealing glances with Natasha was the glory of her. She was a distinguished woman, known to be married to one of the most revered men in town. The ladies at the lunch discussed stories of her well established marriage, but no one knew the truth except you, and Natasha.

Sometimes you would go to meet her, with the excuse of needing to talk with her clinquishly. Her husband was a fine fellow, a gentleman who’d welcome you to their warm domicile, and let you take your time alone with his wife.

On the days when your blood boiled with envy of his nauseating smile, you’d meet her in forbidden places, near rivers of estrangement, and away from the common folk.

She held no love for him, you weren’t oblivious like the neighbourhood women. What made you bitter was the way he was associated with her throughout the town. He was the one credited with your efforts of making her the happiest woman around.

Oh how you longed for Natasha to be known as your lady.

But it’s worth struggling for, when she touches your lips, when she kisses them, and when her hands entangle with yours. “My most beloved,” she addresses you every time before she dares to break the space between the two of you. You respond, “Yes, my lady.” before leaning in.

It’s been years of meeting Natasha in darkness and in delight, touching her as if speaking of poetry. Your hands find their place in the heat beneath her gown, leaving her to the euphoria of gushing. She does the same for you in return, sometimes sitting on her knees to have a peek of what her fingers feel.

You have a rendezvous in the privacy of her own house, while he’s patiently sitting on the porch, doing something like pretending to read a newspaper. She sighs loudly against your kiss, it’s almost romantical.

He knocks on the shut door, asking if everything was alright. You break your contact with her abruptly, and answer him with a loud, stern voice, “Yes, Natasha is trying a new corset I brought along with me. Nothing to worry about.” He walks away with not a single penny of care, unbeknownst to everything you could do only if his wife had her corset taken off.

“I sense something bizarre about you today, my love.” she remarks, pushing your back against the stone cold wall, opposite to which is sat the notorious husband. To think the two of you could be vulnerable within inches was a terrifying thought. “I don’t think standing here is a good idea..”

“What would he even do if he finds us out? He can burn this house all he wants, at least my death greets me with you in my arms.”

“Natasha…”

“Tell me what is troubling you, my Y/N. What is so tragical that I can’t take it away from you?”

Her poetic mouth never failed to leave you enraptured. “W- well, all I've thought of since the past nights is running away. I mean to take you along, but I’m troubled by all the presumed consequences.”

“You meaning to take me along is singularly the greatest thing I’ve heard. To be with my muse, in a place where all the poets went to die, is a privilege I'm blessed to have.”

“I don’t belong, and Natasha, neither do you, you understand it, and I know it. But going out into the wild, with no shelter to take? I’m worried to death.”

“Again, my beloved, at least death greets us with you in my arms. I don’t fear it.”

You entwine your finger in her fierce red hair, and pull her face close to yours till you can hear her breathe and feel her heart pound against your chest and tell her, “Your musings, God, they make me want to be with you all the time, alone. Your poetry is the sole reason I live, dearest.”

“You’re the sole reason my poetry lives. You’re my muse, Y/N.”

You push her against her vanity, with an attempt to taste her delicacy, this time not confining her sounds to your secrecy. You lift up your leg, to give Natasha a place for grinding slowly. The skirt of her apron is lifted, along with her pale yellow dress.

The door smashes open, with her husband walking in, “You’ve been alone for far too- What is going on here?!”

Natasha speaks in a fake pleading voice, “Sir, let me explain to you.” before she gives you a long kiss, and grabs your hand. She squeezes your palm, hinting you to follow her along.

His chin falls agape, the green nerves of around his wrist pop out, irefully.

“What monstrosity is this, Natasha? I thought you were a pristine lady, but evidently you’re a disgustful woman! You should be- Get away from her Y/N!” He comes forward to push you away, but she doesn’t let him finish, and runs out of the house with you.

You hold up your dress to make yourself a room to run with her through the fields. After fleeing for a while, you notice he has missed the trail. So she tugs your arm again, making you run till you reach the illustrious lake, till you’re out of breath.

She laughs as you hold her in an embrace, and screams towards the deserted forests and mountains on the other side of the lake, “I can feel the freedom in me. I can feel it in my blood!” Her voice echoes back at you.

You join her laughter, eyes filled with tears, and cry out, “I am in love with Natasha! I am a woman, and I wholeheartedly love another.” She pecks your lips repeatedly, till you can’t stop laughing and hold her blushing red cheeks away from yours, “We’ll find ourselves a home, we’ll find us a way to live. I promise you.”

You lace her gentle hands with yours. They’re cold with the breeze and the disquietude. You grasp her untamed heart, and she cleaves on to your pain.

#skye’s taylor swift themed drabbles #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow #black widow x you #black widow x reader

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natrogersfics · 1 month

Note

nat comes home to steve solving a really big problem. bonus points if he ain't doing too well.

Steve Rogers is highly intelligent.

This is a fact Natasha holds as gospel. And no, it’s not just because she’s married to the man. But even if that were the case, she knows that somewhere deep in the servers of one Nicholas J. Fury, she could find droves of IQ tests and reports that would only fortify the claim. She’s seen it in action, too – how quickly he had learned to pilot a modern jet just weeks out of the ice and how adept he had become at utilizing gear that Tony had just spun up in his workshop.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise then how naturally he’s taken to being a father. While it’s only been half a year since she and Sarah had come home, with how instantly he could alleviate whatever thought was burdening their daughter with his words or a single touch, one would never guess that this experience is still novel to him.

Of course, their little girl played a big role in that as well. Sarah is everything any parent could have hoped for in a child and more. Sweet, exceptionally smart, and above all else, caring. From experience, she knows that loving Sarah is as easy as breathing, and based on the way Steve’s eyes sparkle with adoration every single time he looks at her, she knows that he shares the sentiment.

Nevertheless, their daughter is still only three, and while her legion of aunts and uncles will swear up and down that she’s the most behaved child in the history of children, she also knows that Sarah can be just as curious and determined as three-year-olds come – something her father is just now becoming privy to. The hard way.

“Daddy,” Sarah whines from where she’s perched on their bathroom counter. “Can we go now?”

“Not yet, Princess,” Steve says, using that patient yet still gentle tone of his that he only ever uses with their daughter. “Daddy needs a little more time to wash off this…” – he takes the tube from Sarah’s grasp, reading the label – “full-coverage concealer.”

Steve’s voice falters with what can only be described as dread before he subsequently mutters a Christ under his breath, his hands coming to rest on his hips as he takes in the disaster zone that is their bathroom counter with the same intensity he would a schematic for their next mission. And as she leans against the doorframe watching all of this unfold, she has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from chuckling.

Formulate a new plan on the fly while they were on the battlefield and had bullets raining down on them? He wasn’t coined the Man With a Plan for nothing. Take on multiple hostiles coming at him all by himself? He could do that all day. But knowing what to do when their daughter gets her hands on a stash of heavy-duty makeup? That, apparently, is the one time where Captain America, master tactician, finds himself completely out of his depth.

And boy, does their daughter sense it as she lets out an exasperated sigh. “Daddy-”

“Just a minute, love,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “Daddy’s thinking…”

“But Daddy,” Sarah says, exaggerating every syllable. “Me and Uncle Bruce are having a tea party-”

“Oil,” Steve says, really more to himself than anyone else as he ignores Sarah’s plea. “Oil’s gotta get this off.” He turns to Sarah. “Stay here. I just have to grab something from the kitchen.”

She’s not sure if Sarah even truly understands the implication of her father’s words, but she certainly catches the uncertainty in them, and that’s enough to make the little girl’s eyes grow wide as saucers. “No!”

“But-”

“There’s a cleansing balm under the sink,” she interjects, finally making her presence known and causing both Steve and Sarah to look her way, and she certainly doesn’t miss the way relief washes over the pair of them.

“Mama, you’re home!” Sarah greets happily at the same time Steve makes a comment about her being back early.

“Mission wrapped up faster than expected,” she tells Steve as she pushes off the frame. He steps aside as she nears, letting her take his place in front of Sarah, only for her brows to lift in amusement when she finally sees the full extent of their daughter’s handiwork. Not only did Sarah smother her complexion in concealer, but she also decided that she needed to use what she’s sure is her liquid lipstick as blush and her mascara to do her brows while she was at it. She laughs softly. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“I put makeup on, mama,” Sarah announces proudly. “All by myself!”

“And it won’t come off,” Steve adds.

“I can see that,” she says, stealing a glance at Steve and smirking when his expression clearly shows he does not buy that she’s only just arrived. She attempts to appear more serious as she turns back to Sarah. “What did I say about playing with my makeup, Little Miss?”

“Not to do it,” Sarah mumbles, eyes downturned. “But I wanted to be pretty like you, mama.”

“Oh, Sarah,” she sighs, tucking a finger under the girl’s chin and lifting it gently so her eyes can meet hers. “You don’t need any of this stuff to be pretty.”

“Daddy always says you’re beautiful when you wear makeup,” Sarah explains, pouting.

“I think mama’s beautiful all the time,” Steve clarifies, stepping closer to them and crouching down until he’s eye-level with Sarah so she can see him smile. “I think both my girls are.”

Sarah’s lips lift in a smile that mirrors Steve’s before she lets her big, blue eyes flicker between her parents. “I’m sorry.”

She and Steve share a quick glance, silently affirming how hard, if not outright impossible, it is to be mad at their daughter. “It’s okay, baby,” she says, running a hand through Sarah’s curls. “Makeup’s not bad, it’s just not for you yet. When you’re a little older, okay?” Sarah nods in agreement, and she leans down to dust a kiss to the crown of her head. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

It takes a quarter of a bottle of Micellar water, a few heaping scoops of cleansing balm, and many gripes from Sarah about her shirt getting wet, but eventually, they successfully get every trace of makeup off her face. “All right,” she says, lifting Sarah off the counter and setting her on her feet. “Why don’t you go pick out some clothes so I can drop you off at Uncle Bruce’s floor for your tea party?”

Sarah takes off with a squeal at her question, prompting her to shake her head at her daughter’s retreating figure.

“You know, I would’ve figured it out.”

She turns just as Steve throws another bunch of cotton pads into the trash. “Oh yeah,” she says, moving to rest her hip against the counter. “And would that have been before or after you doused our daughter in olive oil?”

“Hey, in my defense, none of it was coming off!”

“So your solution was to marinade her?” she challenges, unable to keep from chuckling when he glares at her. “Oh, come on. I’m kidding!” She hooks her fingers into his belt loops, playfully pulling him towards her so she can wrap her arms around his neck. “She’s been trying to get her fingers on that kit for days. She was bound to get it at some point.”

His hands find her waist as he lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry she ruined all your makeup,” he says. “I only looked away for a second to load the dishwasher, I swear.”

“She’s the daughter of two former SHIELD agents, what did you expect?” she says, laughing when he only shakes his head in concession. “Honestly, I’m just glad that I got here when I did.” He lifts his brow up in question, and she points towards the lip gloss stain on his collar. “Saves me from asking you where this came from. Because if I found this in the laundry? Believe me, you’d be prone on the ground right now.”

He scoffs as though the thought of him stepping out on her is the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard, eliciting a laugh out of her. “Your mission go okay?”

“As okay as missions involving kids as hostages can go,” she says, shrugging. “We got them out and that’s all that matters.”

“And you kicked the crap out of the people who took them hostage, right?”

She rolls her eyes. “Naturally.”

He grins, and she swears she catches the pride that flashes in his eyes. “Well, we’re glad you’re home,” he says, pulling her in for a kiss. “Missed you.”

“Did you now?”

He hums in confirmation, and she can only grin as he leans down to capture her lips in his again before kissing a path down the side of her jaw. “I could tell you how much,” he says, his grip on her waist tightening as he pulls her even closer to whisper in her ear, “but I think you’d much prefer that I show you.”

“Actually…” she says, pulling away to show him the smirk that’s formed on her lips. “I’d much prefer to have a bathroom that’s not covered in makeup.” He throws his head back in a groan, and she chuckles as she pats his shoulder. “Get cleaning, soldier.”

He shakes his head as he watches her make her way out, a smug look practically plastered on her face. “Tease!”

Masterlist

#Romanogers #In Her Eyes #And I'd Choose You #Captain America #Black Widow #Steve Rogers #Natasha Romanoff #drabbles

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zarasu · 1 year

Text

Lesbingqiu, black widow

---

Luo Binghe's husband hadn't been dead for two weeks when she met her next target.

It was at one of the parties her connection to her late husband got her an invitation to. "You shouldn't be alone after such a sudden loss," it said.

So Binghe threw on her best black dress, attached a black veil to her hair (long enough to get the point across, but certainly short enough to not cover her face), and painted her eyes black to distract from the lack of eye-bags.

She had lured in more than just a few potential husbands with the tragic widow look before.

When she arrived, the party was already in full swing. Nonetheless, her kind hostess took the time to greet her and express her condolences. (Naive, said a little voice in the back of Binghe's head that she quickly squashed.)

It didn’t take long until she was approached by others, all repeating the same dreary sentiments she had heard a hundred times before. Bored, she let her eyes wander over their clothes, estimating their monthly income.

In the drudge of generic 'thank you's and 'it was just so unexpected's, her attention drifted a bit, until she was suddenly brought back to reality by an overly familiar hand on her arm.

"It must be hard, all alone now," a sleazy voice sounded from beside her and Binghe looked up at a man with too much gel in his hair and a greedy look in his eyes. "Without a strong man in your life to support you. How are you holding up?"

With a practiced eye, Binghe took him in. The suit he was wearing was meant to look expensive, but the fabrics could not conceal the fact that it was off-the-peg. The Rolex on his wrist, as well, was an imitation rather than the real thing.

Binghe drew into herself slightly, away from him, and fixed a tight smile on her face. "I'm holding up alright, thank you."

Apparently, he was dumb as brick as well, because he completely ignored the silent cues and only invaded her personal space further.

Binghe rolled her eyes. She would have driven him off by now, if his behaviour didn’t play perfectly into her plans. She was already playing the tragic victim role, might as well give a heroic knight the opportunity to save her from something more tangible.

"It's best to distract oneself in a situation like that," he continued, and Binghe's smile grew even tighter. "I have a weekend house in-"

"So that is what society has come to," a cold voice came from behind them.

Startled, both Binghe and the man turned around. There, Shen Qingqiu stood, looking at them cooly over a glass of white wine.

Binghe's stomach swooped in nervousness. Shen Qingqiu was... something of an important figure in high society.

The fact that she was the heir to a big corporation was one reason for her popularity. The other, though, was undoubtedly her icy beauty, her flawless manners, and her cutting intellect.

She didn’t disappoint today either, with her gleaming, green silk suit and her shiny dark hair done up in a clever bun.

Binghe had always taken care to avoid her, certain that the other woman's sharp eyes would see right through her facade. Now, however, she was pinned, no way to escape.

Binghe’s palms grew clammy.

Shen Qingqiu continued: "Since when is it the done thing to prey on a grieving woman, I wonder?"

It took Binghe a few seconds of confusion until she realised that Shen Qingqiu's cold stare wasn’t directed at her at all, but at the man next to her.

The man in question seemed to be equally frozen in surprise.

Finally, Shen Qingqiu said slowly but firmly: "Take your hand off her arm."

He flinched and took his hand off her as if he'd been burned. Then, he gave an awkward laugh and excused himself before hurrying away.

Binghe looked after him for a second, wishing she could do the same. Now that she was alone with Shen Qingqiu, what would the other woman say? Or maybe worse; what unspoken knowledge would Binghe find in her eyes?

She tried to brace herself, getting ready for whatever was to come.

Of all the things that could happen, she didn’t expect to suddenly feel two gentle, elegant hands on her shoulders. The scent of green tea and sage met her nose and Binghe froze in surprise.

"Are you quite alright," Shen Qingqiu asked softly, looking down at her with concern in her dark eyes. There was none of the dismissive contempt there that Binghe had expected to see.

"What an unpleasant person," she added and frowned towards where the man had vanished.

With a quick wave, she called a waiter, took one of the glasses of wine from the tray and pressed it into Binghe's hand.

Binghe took a sip without looking. It was red wine. Abruptly, she recalled the question and cleared her throat.

"I'm alright now," she said quietly. Then, she remembered herself and looked up at Shen Qingqiu through her eyelashes. "That is, thanks to you. That really was a bit of an uncomfortable situation you helped me out of, so... thank you."

Instead of answering, Shen Qingqiu just swallowed audibly and, with fascinated disbelief, Binghe watched as Shen Qingqiu's eyes flitted from her eyes to her lips for a second.

No way, she thought, nervousness and confusion giving way to a slow, incredulous delight.

"It was no problem," Shen Qingqiu said, seconds too late to be natural. It seemed she realised it too because a faint blush spread over her beautiful face. She looked away, then, and Binghe realised she was desperately casting around for something to say.

When her gaze fell on Binghe's black veil, she jolted a little. "Ah, I can't believe I forgot to say this before but, my condolences to you."

Binghe needed only a second to calculate her plan of action. It wasn’t hard to decide.

With all her years of training, she made tears rise to her eyes to give them a glazed look and turned her head away a little to hide her apparent bout of sadness, baring her neck in the process.

"I haven't really come to terms with it yet," she whispered. "I keep suddenly remembering that he's... well," she gave a choked, sad laugh. "It catches me by surprise every time."

With wide, reddened eyes, she looked up, and Shen Qingqiu's hand reflexively came up to touch Binghe before she caught herself.

"It must be very hard," Shen Qingqiu agreed quietly, almost awkwardly. "If there's anything I can do for you, please tell me."

Binghe smiled faintly. "You have already done so much for me, I'm not going to ask you for more."

Shen Qingqiu's face took on a very determined expression and, seemingly forgetting that she had just stopped herself from touching Binghe, she gently put a hand on her elbow. "Please, I'd be more than happy to help in whatever way I can."

Shyly, Binghe ducked her head. "As horrible as he was, that man was right that the thing I need most right now is just some company."

Shen Qingqiu frowned at her concernedly. "Do you have any family left? Friends?"

"I'm afraid everyone I could call a friend was my husband's friend first. They have their own grief to deal with," Binghe said quietly, intentionally ignoring the question about family.

"Well, that's no good." Shen Qingqiu's lips pressed together firmly. "I insist that you come visit me tomorrow. Or whenever you have time. It's no good to be all by yourself in that house, surrounded by memories."

Binghe fidgeted, hesitating. She kept the wild smile that wanted to break free in her chest, near her heart, where it belonged.

"I don’t want to be a bother, but if you insist?"

"I insist," Shen Qingqiu agreed and brought her hand up to squeeze her shoulder possessively.

Binghe looked up at her and finally allowed the smile to reach her face, just a little. "Alright then."

She had found her next target.

(With Binghe's skillful manipulations and Shen Qingqiu's urge to do right by her, they get married within the year. Binghe decides to wait a bit longer this time to kill her new spouse, not wanting to draw too much attention.)

(After five years, Binghe decides that there's no real reason to kill Shen Qingqiu just yet. She gives Binghe everything she wants and Binghe really hasn't found anyone who would be a better spouse since they got married.)

(After twenty years, Binghe decides that she's really gotten too old to be an effective black widow anymore. Instead, she plans a twenty year anniversary holiday for them and gives her wife her deserved good morning kiss, relief making her heart feel light.)

(They live happily ever after.)

The end~

#bingwifeweek #bingwife #svsss #black widow binghe #genderbend #lesbingqiu #prompt:widow #drabble #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #bingqiu

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romanoffsgal · 11 months

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Hotcakes and Love.

A/n: i’m back and i would be posting a series soon. I love Nat and this one is soft.

Summary: Mornings and warm hotcakes with Nat.

Warnings: none

Nat x fem!reader fluff

I always hated mornings, i was not a morning person, worse was the fact that i could not fucking sleep at night thanks to the nightmares that didn’t stop chasing me. But she made it different.

I got up and went to the kitchen, i wanted to make something for her, i hoped i didn’t make a noise, she was a fucking spy. Jeez.

I pulled off some ingredients and made up hotcakes, she liked them, i liked them and i wanted her to have something nice, she was the most beautiful human being on earth she deserved nice things.

I made her coffee and went back to bed with all the food.

When i came in, she was confused, even scared, i could see it on her face, her eyes were looking everywhere, and when they laid on me, she softened.

“Hey” she said with a shy smile and all her hair messed up.”where were you?”

“Nat, i was making you breakfast” you smiled, your heart was beating hard, you could not believe she loved you.

“Oh” that’s what she said, she was not used to this, i wasnt either, it made my head spin around i really didn’t knew what i was doing but it felt nice so i just stopped thinking. “i thought you left” she said.

“Why would i? Do you want me to?” i asked shyly.

“No!” she almost shouted “please don’t leave, stay.” she said and made me come over with all the food in hands. She was not looking at me, and i got worried, this was always a challenge.

“Малыш, ты хорошо?” (Baby you okay?) i asked sitting down in her bed. She didn’t wanted to look at me. I watched her and cupped both of her cheeks “what’s wrong Tash?” she looked at you now, eyes full of tears wanting to leave her beautiful green eyes.

“Nothing, i thought you left, i didn’t saw you when i woke up, and i got worried, i thought that i did something wrong, and-“ you shut her up, kissing her lips, while she grabbed your arms, pulling you closer, ending it putting you foreheads together smiling like freaking childs, again.

“Nat, i’m not him, i would never leave you, not unless you want me to.” she looked at me and her tears streamed down her face “i’m here. And i would always be here.” you cleaned up her tears, kissed her cheeks, and said “come on, you have to eat, i made them the way you like them.”

She just smiled, got comfortable and started eating, you watched her, you could watch her your whole life and never get bored, whoever who left her, was a fucking coward, she is everything to you.

“what are you looking at weirdo?” she said smirking, pulling you closer to her, grabbing a piece of hotcake and guiding to your mouth “eat some too.” she said while she watched you eat too.

You cuddle up closer to her, and left kisses along her face, she acted annoyed and huffed, but you knew it was all acting, she loved it. You knew that if you dare to pull yourself out of her tight embrace, she would chase you and haunt you down like some savage animal wanting her food, it was her, and you loved it.

Life could be so easy this way, in her arms, with a normal day, a normal life, not thinking too much about what could happend, or think about missions, traumas, childhood and life, im her arms and eating hotcakes all was forgotten, all was forgiven, because it was you and her, all alone again.

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 8 months

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I Wanted You

Natasha Romanoff X Reader

Summary: Inspired by the quote "We tried so hard not to be torn apart. But at the end of it all, we both wanted something different...I wanted you. And you...you didn't want them to know"

Rating: General | Word count: 1.1k | Warnings/Tags: Angst, no happy ending, bittersweet -

Standing at the back of the hall, nothing but longing and pain filled Natasha as she watched you from afar. The smile on your lips practically reached your ears as you smiled down at the woman you were standing at the altar with, a few cheers from the rest of the team filling the room when you met her lips as commanded by the priest, both of you smiling against one another.

Natasha couldn't help but want to leave, watching you being so, so in love with someone else caused her heart to fracture with every smile you sent to your new wife, every little touch and kiss.

It hurt.

It hurt so much to see you like this, but Natasha couldn't stop thinking about one thing.

What went wrong?

Your relationship had initially started as something more physical than emotional, your bodies practically tangled under the sheets for hours on end as you both used each other as a means of getting out pent up frustrations and feelings. However, it was inevitable for you to fall for the redhead, her charming smile and sarcastic personality winning you over effortlessly as you grew closer and closer to her, finally getting the courage to confess your feelings to her.

The start of the relationship was rocky, Natasha having difficulty with being open with someone, with letting someone wriggle their way into her stone cold heart but you managed it. Of course you did, how could Natasha not fall for you?

Slowly but surely she gave you her heart as you did her, the two of you so deeply in love with one another that Natasha thought nothing could get in the way of you, nothing. But that thought came crashing down when it all ended, her heart breaking into a million pieces and never having been put back together.

Today was just a reminder of how broken she felt without you.

She kept her distance for most of the night, letting the rest of the team congratulate you on your special night, your arm wrapped around your wife's waist as you smiled at whoever was speaking to you, occasionally murmuring something into her ear to make her smile and chuckle.

However, once she saw you standing on the balcony alone, your wife far to enthralled in a conversation with Steve, Natasha couldn't help herself as her feet led her closer to you, her arms leaning against the railing to match your position.

"I didn't think you would come," is all you say as you continue to stare ahead, keeping your expression calm and mature as you the woman besides you knew how to read you and understand what you were truly feeling.

"You invited me," she whispers back, her voice containing that slight rasp you used to love to listen to.

"Still, I wasn't sure," you murmur, risking a look to your side to offer her a soft and grateful smile, wanting her to know how much you appreciated her being here despite the circumstances.

Her eyes scanned over your features, remembering every little detail she memorised after having gazed at you so many times, your eyes seemingly doing the same as you took in her familiar red hair and enticing emerald eyes. Your eyes naturally drifted to her lips, encouraging the redhead to talk as her gaze remained locked on your eyes.

"Where did we go wrong?" she asks and you know she's not doing this to cause an argument or a scene, she's simply curious. You offer her another small, soft smile before turning your head, looking back at the view from balcony of New York, the towers oddly peaceful to stare at during the night.

"We both wanted different things, Nat," you whisper after thinking for a moment, the nickname odd for the other woman to hear as no one called her Nat apart from you.

"I only ever wanted you," she says, voice laced with honesty but you shake your head gently, the smile on your lip fading a little but still present.

"You wanted more than just me," you say softly, turning back to look at her, getting lost in the eyes you still loved. "We tried so hard to not be torn apart but it just... It wasn't working, not for me," your confession has Natasha's heart beating wildly in her chest, the redhead unsure if she could handle it being broken once again. "We both wanted different things Nat, I wanted you and you..." your gaze moves to the window, staring at the rest of the team who laughed amongst themselves, "You didn't want them to know."

"Y/n... You why know I-" she tries but you gently cut her off.

"I know, I'd never force you to tell them," you whisper in that soft tone that Natasha remembers falling asleep to, the delicate nature of it calming. "I just, I didn't want to be a secret anymore," your voice wavers a little and Natasha sees past the façade you were putting on, able to see how hurt this conversation made you feel.

The two of you simmer in the silence a little longer, Natasha unable to excuse her past behaviour as you knew why she didn't want others to know. She was always told love was a weakness and telling others just seemed to be handing them ammo to later on fire back at her. She couldn't put anything before her job, not back then when there were more lives to save, more villains to fight, not even you.

"You don't love her the same way you loved me," Natasha whispers after thinking for a while, her tone not bitter just simply stating the facts, your gaze being drawn away from the skyline. "Perhaps not," you reply back honestly, "I don't think I could love anyone the way I loved you but that doesn't mean I don't love her." Your words painfully remind Natasha of your wife in the other room, how your finger wears a ring that belongs to the other woman, not the redhead. "I vowed to her that I'd spent the rest of my life with her and I intend to," you say, pushing your arms off the railing to move into a standing position, turning to look at Natasha one more time. "Maybe a part of me wishes I was spending it with you, but that's not how things worked out. I love you Natasha, I always will but I just don't think we were meant to be," your confession causes a single tear to spill from her eyes, your finger delicately raising to wipe it away, your smile soft and bittersweet. "Maybe in another lifetime we'll get our happy ending," you murmur before pressing your lips to her forehead softly, a kiss to say goodbye as you offer her one last smile before turning away slowly, leaving Natasha to try and piece back her broken heart, alone.

—-

I love writing angst like this 😭 It's the bittersweet stuff that hurts so good

I hope you enjoyed ;)

Please leave any thoughts/comments/votes <3 They are greatly appreciated:)

Tik Tok- Wvndaeditz

Ao3- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger

#angst #sad quotes #sad thoughts #unrequited love #bittersweet #hurt/comfort #hurtful #no happy ending #drabble #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanov #black widow x reader #black widow

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writershapeholeonthedoor · 7 months

Text

Black Widow

Pairing: Florence Pugh × Fem!Reader

Summary: Cooking With Flo is back and you make an accidental cameo that get the entire world to know about your relationship with Florence

Disclaimer: English is not my first language

MASTERLIST

Florence took a step away from her phone to make sure it was recording the way it should, her eyes studying the screen as a smile slowly formed on her lips. It took just a second for the comments to start showing up on the screen fast enough that she barely had time to read one before it disappeared to show other ones. She stayed quiet for a few more seconds to allow more people to start watching the live on her Instagram before she actually started talking.

“Sup, bitches? Here we are with another Cooking With Flo,” she said the famous words she always used to start her lives. She opened her arms as if to show the kitchen behind her and let out her raspy laugh. “Did you guys miss me? It's been a while, I know, but I'm back and this time we're making lasagna.”

For the last five months, she had done none of the livestreams cooking in her kitchen mostly because the space was a mess. The room was being renewed and, on top of that, she barely had time to do anything other than work and make sure people were painting the walls with the right color. But now she finally had time again, so that’s how she ended up standing in the middle of her kitchen on a random Saturday night.

“It's very simple, but it was a requested dish for tonight, so that’s what we're doing,” Florence kept talking, leaning back against the counter with her elbows to read some of the comments the fans were making. She saw a few questions, dozens of hearts, and some country flags, but her eyes quickly picked someone asking if there would be any guests tonight. “No, it’s only me cooking tonight, but I'm not alone.” Florence looked around and easily spotted her dog lying down a few feet from where she was standing. She leaned down to snap her fingers at him, which made him get up and walk towards her while wiggling his tail. Chuckling, Florence picked him up with some effort because he certainly wasn’t a small dog. “Billy's here! Come on, Billy, tell people hi.” The only reaction the dog gave was a low bark before he tried to lick her face. Florence moved away the best she could laughing at the same time. “Oh, God, you're getting too heavy for me to lift you, boy,” she complained and then put the dog back on the floor, where he wasted no time walking away to lie down one more time. Florence put her hands on her waist and smiled widely. “Jeez, guys. Well, let me wash my hands and we can get started.”

Florence had just turned around to go to the sink behind her when she heard a scream piercing through the house.

"AAAAAAAAH!"

The chain reaction was instant. Forgetting about anything else, Florence turned on her feet while yelling back: “Holy fuck! Babe?!”

The live kept going on her phone but the people watching could just glance at her wide eyes and surprised expression before she ran from the frame, the phone completely forgotten. They couldn’t see her anymore, but she didn’t wander far away. Just as she was about to get out of the kitchen and run to where she heard the scream coming from, someone came running from the hallway and almost bumped into her, making her stop.

“Florence!” You screamed again, although this time you were already pressed against her.

Florence instantly put her arms around you while her eyes tried to find the reason why you were yelling. She was trying to find a bruise, a cut, or blood of any type, but there was nothing on you that caught her eyes besides the sheer panic clear in your face. “What is it?!” She asked, though she was having a hard time even keeping standing since you were pushing against her as if you were running away from something. “Babe?!”

You managed to slip past her and go further into the kitchen all while using your hands to keep grabbing Florence’s shoulders as if she was the only thing keeping you safe. “Oh, my God! There's a monster inside the bathroom!”

Upon hearing that, Florence couldn’t help but blink in surprise, tilting her head to the side and trying to understand what you meant by that. “A what?”

It was her sudden change in humor that made you look at Florence with even more urgency. She was too calm, she clearly didn’t understand how grave that was. “It almost killed me!”

Your tone had the opposite effect, though. Florence kept looking at you for a few more seconds before her signature breathless smile cut the silence that had formed between you two. Her shoulders dropped, as did her hands to your waist, and she let her head hang for a moment to bask in the relief she felt for realizing there was no imminent danger as she initially thought there was. If it was anything as bad as you were making it sound, you certainly wouldn’t be acting that dramatically.

Finally, she shook her head and looked up at you again with a smile. “I'm pretty sure there's not a monster inside our bathroom. Haven't you watched Scooby Doo?” Florence joked.

It made you whine, however, because you couldn’t believe she couldn’t see the danger you were in. “Florence,” you complained.

Florence must have noticed you were getting mad for her lack of concern because she just chuckled again and approached you to kiss your cheek. “Okay, babe, I'm going to take a look,” she conceded.

Now more relaxed and with a pout, you nodded and let go of Florence’s shoulders so she could walk away from you. “Take care!” You yelled to her retreating form.

Florence kept walking until she reached the bathroom in the hallway. The door was open and the light was still on, but she poked her head inside first. She saw nothing out of the ordinary, so she decided to ask you again, keeping her voice loud and clear for you to hear her from the kitchen. "Again, I don’t think-” Florence interrupted herself out of a sudden when her eyes finally spotted the thing that had disturbed you. “Oh,” she breathed out.

Inside the kitchen, you were biting on the pad of your thumb as you waited for her. “Do you see it? It's right there by the sink!”

Florence smiled to herself while she saw the little spider weaving her web down peacefully as if there was nothing wrong in the world. “Yeah, I see it,” she replied with amusement clear in her voice.

“Take care!” You exclaimed again, but that was what finally caught the attention of the other occupant of the house. Billy, now alert because of the commotion, got up with his ears pointing up and started to go after his owner to see what was going on, but you quickly leaned down to scoop him from the floor. “Oh, my God, Billy, don't go there!”

“Can you bring me a bowl?” Florence asked.

“What for?” You frowned and moved the big dog a bit when your arms started to get tired. Maybe you should start going to the gym, after all.

Florence’s reply came quickly. “So I can take this little guy outside.”

You gasped in shock. “You wanna touch it?!”

The other woman laughed again. “No, that's what the bowl is for!” You rolled your eyes fondly at her teasing. “Come on, babe.”

You bit your bottom lip and looked around. There were several bowls around the counters that she had put there to put the ingredients while she cooked, but there was no way you would go back to that bathroom again when the life-threatening monster was still there. “I can't get any closer than this.”

“That's okay, I will go get it,” Florence soothed your nerves and, a second later, you heard her coming back to the kitchen.

You couldn’t keep Billy on your lap for longer so you put him down gently, only to have him running to meet Florence, who was just entering the room again. Florence was smiling, although she wasn’t making fun of you - at least yet - and she walked towards you to peck your cheek. It seemed like it was just a gesture to try to hide her smile, but you weren’t going to complain about it.

She had just turned to grab one of the bowls when her eyes caught her cell phone on top of the counter and she immediately stopped in her tracks as her heart dropped to the floor. “Oh.”

You jumped away from the counter like it was catching fire. “What?! There's another one here?!”

Florence’s gaze moved to you for a brief moment though she couldn’t stop looking at the millions of comments and emojis appearing on her screen for too long. “Uh, no.”

You followed her eyes and it was your turn to feel the dread inside. In your panicked state, you forgot Florence was doing a live. You hadn’t just interrupted it, you had walked on it. Literally. You could see yourself standing in the middle of the recording, Florence just a few steps to the side looking like a deer caught in headlights as her eyes kept moving from her phone to you.

People didn’t even know you existed and there you were now. People didn’t know Florence Pugh had a girlfriend. People didn’t know she was only making lasagna tonight because you told her that’s what you were craving.

“Shit,” you mumbled. “Oh, shit. I forgot you were going live.” You took a step back and put your hands on your face to hide the deep blush that took over your cheeks. “Oh, no.”

Noticing you were a step away from going on a full-on panic attack, Florence approached you and gently pulled you closer to her body. She tilted her head to the side to give you the perfect spot to hide your face in the crook of her neck and you took full advantage of that. There was no point in trying to hide now that the cat was out of the bag. People had seen you already, they certainly heard Florence calling you “babe” and saw her kissing your cheek.

You silently reached the same decision in the few seconds you stayed in each other’s embrace. When Florence pulled away, she held your face between her hands and offered you a smile that put you at ease instantly. “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t worry, okay?” She winked at you. “I will be right back, let me just take out the monster for you.”

Florence kissed your forehead before grabbing a bowl and walking back to the bathroom. You thought about stepping away from the camera, maybe going back to hide in your shared room as you usually did when Florence was making content when you were around, but you barely had the time to think about where to go before your girlfriend was back in the kitchen.

“I'm back, folks.” she declared to her phone while walking to put the bowl inside the sink since she couldn’t use it anymore. After that, Florence turned back to face the camera and leaned against the counter with both hands, smiling. “It wasn’t a monster, it was just a little spider,” Florence told to the people watching the live.

Standing beside her, all you could do was mumble: “It was a monster.”

Your reaction dragged another laugh from Florence - the laugh that you loved so much, deep and husky, and that made her nose scrunch in that adorable way that always made you want to kiss her. “Thank God you're dating Black Widow herself, huh?” She nudged you with her shoulder, clearly teasing you.

Affected by her smile and her expressive eyes, you easily forgot there were literally millions of people watching you two at that moment. “I don't think that would be a reason to brag considering you would kill me in the end,” you replied, amused. “Besides, I'm not dating Scarlett.”

Her gasp was so loud that even Billy barked from where he was sitting staring up at you two. “Hey, I just saved you from a terrible monster!” Florence complained, although it was obvious she wasn’t serious. “Show me some love.”

You rolled your eyes again, but the smile on your face couldn’t be ignored. “You're right.” You nodded and leaned over to kiss the tip of her nose. “Thank you, my darling savior.”

Her nose scrunched again and a low chuckle left her lips before she pulled away with a more somber expression. She looked at you as if she was trying to hold a silent conversation and, gladly, you understood what she was asking without saying a word. You only nodded and braced yourself for what was about to come.

Florence returned her attention to her phone and her smile became a more practical one. “Well, I think you guys are a little confused. That's not how I planned for you guys to find out, but that's okay. We're just going to recalculate,” she chuckled politely. “In case you hadn’t realized it since this shenanigans started, this is my girlfriend.” Florence placed her arm around your waist, pulling you closer and smiling contently with her eyes glued on you. It seemed like you couldn’t look away from each other for a while, but she eventually returned her attention to the several comments popping on her screen. “Yes, I kept it a secret until now. And yes, I was intending to keep it under the rug for a while longer, but mostly because I did not want you scaring her away,” she joked since you both knew the reason why your relationship was a secret was because you were both trying to protect your privacy and your love from prying eyes. “She was the one that said she was feeling like eating lasagna tonight, actually,” Florence added.

You nodded, feeling more relaxed to be standing there now. “She got her grandma's recipe, I couldn't resist.”

“Since the cat is out of the bag…” She read a few comments, deciding to answer them as she went. “We've been dating for a while, yes. This is our kitchen, actually.” Florence pointed to something behind her. “Well, it’s still coming together. We still want to make some changes,” she relented since you both know none of you were satisfied with the place the fridge was placed. “Uh, she’s not an actress, if that’s what you want to know, another reason why we didn't say anything about us.” Florence kept from telling her fans what you actually do with your life, trying to maintain any sense of privacy still. “Yes, she knows my family. Guys, I will answer two more questions before we move on. Now that I saved her life and our bathroom, I believe Y/N wanted to take a shower before dinner,” she joked.

You laughed and agreed with several nods, also licking your lips to add to the dramatization. Your attention ended up going to one of the comments that showed up and you decided to answer it. “Billy ran to me at the dog park, that’s how we met,” you explained shyly.

Florence seemed happy that you spoke up, though, and she proved that by leaning closer to kiss your cheek for the third time. She then moved on to pick the last comment she was going to reply to. “No, she’s not going to feature in the next Cooking With Flo unless she wants to. Or unless there’s another teeny tiny spider forcing her to run to me.” She poked your side at the exact spot that she knew would get you squirming away and that’s what happened, of course.

“It wasn’t small,” you argued as your body moved away from her. “I'll go so you can keep filming.” You turned around to leave, but changed your mind last minute, choosing to say: “I'm sorry to crash in.”

“Don't need to apologize, babe,” Florence assured you firmly and, before you knew what was going on, she pulled you in for a quick kiss. “I love you, okay?” She whispered against your lips, making sure no one else could hear it.

“I love you more,” you replied gladly in the same tone before walking away. “See you once you get my food ready!”

Florence laughed while she watched you disappear from her sight and then looked back at her phone to clap her hands once and say: “Well, so let's get started!”

#florence pugh x reader #florence pugh #florence pugh x you #celebrity x reader #marvel #yelena belova #black widow #fanfic #creative writing #my writing #drabble #fluff

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ichorai · 8 months

Text

afterlife ; yelena belova.

track eleven of BROKEN MACHINE.

sequel to the scientist & the assassin.

pairing ; yelena belova & gn!reader (platonic), natasha romanoff x spouse!reader

synopsis ; her sister was dead. she’d lost everyone she’d ever known. and she didn’t know you—at least not as well as she’d like to know her sister’s spouse, but yelena wanted to try. that was the least she could do.

words ; 1.9k

themes ; angst, mild fluff

warnings / includes ; talks of death, set after events of endgame and hawkeye series, grief and angst, liho cameo & hawkeye/kate mention, someone pls give yelena a hug rn :( also it isn't mentioned anywhere in the fic but i'm a yelena aroace truther so pls don't read into their relationship as anything but platonic !!

a/n ; sorry i haven't posted anything in sooo long </3 life's been tough :( but i hit 7.8k followers and that's just so crazy to me, thank you for sticking around !! (i still haven't finished my 6k milestone this is sickening)

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There was a ridiculous sort of homeliness to the stout little house Yelena stood in front of. Long plants dangled from the slanted roofs, and the bulbous lamp hanging by the door glowed a merry shade of amber. Even the doormat was endearing, a shoddy brown scratcher with a black imprint of a cat’s paw in the center. Yelena wiped the soles of her combat boots against it, blowing out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Places like this—places that reeked of home and warmth—they weren’t made for people like her. At least, that was what she was conditioned into believing her entire life. People like her didn’t deserve to have a home.

But her sister had broken the cycle. She’d escaped. They were one and the same as children—a statue and its shadow—and yet they’d gone down vastly different paths in life. Natasha found a new family, she’d found love, she’d found a home. What did Yelena have?

And that’s what made it all the stranger for Yelena to be standing in front of this little house. A part of her was afraid that if she stepped inside, it would crumble apart in front of her.

It was her sister’s home, and yet she was afraid to linger. The house that her sister used to live in before she… before…

Yelena screwed her lips off to the side and bit the inside of her cheek.

Before she could change her mind, she rapped her knuckles against the polished wood of the door thrice. Two more times after that for good measure. The doorbell was right there, Yelena noticed a little too late.

When the entrance creaked open, the blonde had to grit her teeth and keep her feet planted, because a large part of her wanted to turn and run. Yelena Belova had been on the run for a large part of her life. So much of her childhood was lost to the wind of discreet cars and disguises. She couldn’t stomach the idea of facing something real and something true.

Your face peered out from behind the door, features curious and softened with exhaust. For a moment, she could see the scientist in you: the way your gaze darted all over her, searching for clues as to who she was. Trying to piece together the puzzle that was Yelena Belova.

Quite a few pieces were missing from that puzzle. Yelena was sure it’d never be complete, really.

“Hello. I’m sorry, who are you?” you asked, brows cinching together.

You were beautiful, even with the fatigue weighing over your shoulders, even with the tender skin beneath your eyes that darkened with tears and lost sleep. Yelena could see why her sister loved you so much.

When the blonde in front of you whispered her name, you took a slight step back. From shock or from fear, Yelena couldn’t quite tell.

A spark of recognition danced over your countenance. You’d seen faded pictures of your wife and her sister when they were children. She had the same eyes as that child. The same hair, the same nose, the same lips. But people change, faces morph, and personalities are discarded. You could never be too careful. After all—your wife was a widow.

“Prove it,” you murmured.

Yelena leveled her eyes with you. Then, she let out the shrill, two-toned whistle. The one Natasha would do to signal to you, to Clint, to her loved ones.

A lump formed in your throat, and tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You stepped to the side and muttered a quiet apology, inviting her to come into your home.

Yelena stomped her boots against the welcome mat twice, not wanting to be a rude guest by tracking mud all over the floors, and slipped into the house. Her sister’s home.

There were fragments of Natasha everywhere. In the framed pictures, in her initials embroidered into the handcloths in the kitchen, in the rows of linguistic books lining the bookshelves.

You were anxiously twisting your hands together, studying the way Yelena took everything in. Noticing that her eyes were lingering on the books, you ventured to tell her, “She was learning Arabic. During the Blip, that is. Got pretty decent at it, actually.”

Before she could think of a reply, maybe a rather petty retort that Yelena already knew Arabic, a curious meow broke her attention away from you, down to the ground. There was a little black cat pattering its way to her, eyes shining and ears pricked.

“You have a cat?” she murmured, lowering herself to her knees so she could reach out and ruffle its small head.

“Liho was Nat’s birthday present. Well, one of her presents,” you said, a faint smile twitching the corner of your lips at the memory of the failed collapsible motorbike. There was a brief moment of silence, all quiet except for Liho’s pleased purring. “You want a cup of tea?” you eventually asked, gesturing to the kitchen.

She gave you a nod, and you whisked away, grateful for something to occupy yourself with. Yelena found herself studying the house more—the pictures, the mirrors, the lights. It all screamed her sister.

Some of the photos had famous Avengers on them, and Yelena couldn’t help but smile. Her sister, the famous Avenger who saved the world. Her eyes flickered over to you as you brought out a teapot and two mugs. A part of her wondered what you were doing when Natasha had died. Were you off saving the world, too? You murmured something under your breath as you scuttled back to the kitchen to fetch some sugar.

“Please, take a seat,” you said kindly, gesturing to the chair across from you. You poured the drink for her and slid it over the table for her to take. Yelena dropped three cubes of sugar into the mug with an appreciative hum. “So, uh… what happened? Were you—were you blipped?”

“Yes,” she sighed out, blowing at the far-too-hot drink over the brim of the mug. “Five years of life, gone in a blink of an eye. You?”

The two of you watched each other for some time. She lifted the cup to drink, finally. It was damn good tea. There was a citrusy, lemony sort of flavor to it.

“I was part of the half that stayed. Nat and I… we were lucky to have each other. She buried herself in her work. I had—I mean, I didn’t really have work to do anymore. Not with most people I used to work for gone.” After a longer pause, you tilted your head. “Natasha searched everywhere for you. Everywhere. She never—she never stopped looking.”

A lump formed in Yelena’s throat.

“Yeah?” she murmured.

“Yeah.” A tear slipped down your cheek and you didn’t bother to wipe it away. Instead, you smiled. “She loved you so much, Yelena.”

She sucked a cold breath through her gritted teeth and sniffled. “What was she like?”

There were a few seconds of silence. You pondered on her question for quite some time. How were you supposed to summarize your entire world in just a few sentences?

“She was incredible. In every way, really. Smart, beautiful, funny, level-headed. But most of all, she was kind. I think that’s what threw a lot of people off about her. They know she’s an ex-assassin, and she’s not exactly a trusting person… and I guess it’s easy to make assumptions about her with just that. But she was so kind.” You had to pause to swallow around the lump in your throat. “She was patient and understanding. For her to… to sacrifice everything and leave the universe while saving it—that’s the Natasha I know.”

Yelena blew her nose into a tissue when you pushed a box of Kleenex towards her. “I’m here because of her. She’s… she’s a hero.”

“She is.”

With a watery laugh, Yelena said through her tears, “I tried to kill her friend. Your friend, too, I’m guessing. Clint Barton. I was told that he killed her.”

A grim expression flickered over your face as you pursed your lips. “Yeah. He told me. Didn’t sound too happy over the phone. But… he’s doing alright. Has his own little sidekick now, from what I gathered during the call.”

“Kate Bishop,” Yelena said with a mirthful glint to her eyes. “She hit me in the face, you know.”

You arched a brow. “Did you deserve it?”

Yelena frowned and lifted a shoulder in a sheepish shrug. “Probably.”

The two of you grinned at each other, cheeks damp.

Then, her beam melted away. “I didn’t want to believe that Natasha was selfish enough to sacrifice herself to save half of the entire world. Ironic, right?”

You traced the rim of your mug with a finger. “I remember the day it happened. They each came back from the past in a blink of an eye. Except the space beside Clint was empty. Steve caught me before I could fall to the ground when I realized what she’d done.”

“All these powerful heroes,” Yelena whispered. Her voice warbled and swayed, like a feather amidst a hurricane. “And the one that saved the universe was my big sister. She had no powers. Just her and her stupidly big heart.”

“And decades of training,” you added on.

“Yeah. That, too.” Yelena’s shoulders began to shake. “I just miss her so much.”

Abandoning your drink, you got up from the table and stepped to Yelena, pulling her into a warm hug. She began to tremble harder under your grip, winding her arms around you, seeking solace in your warmth.

“She missed you, too,” you murmured. An overwhelming sense of protectiveness washed over you. “I hope you know that you’re always welcome here, Yelena. You’re my sister now, too.”

After a second, Yelena sputtered an apology and slumped back, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. “Sorry. I’m so bad at this. Emotions and all that crap.”

“That’s okay,” you told her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Yelena could see why Natasha loved you so much. You were kind like her.

“I grew up in a fake family. None of it was ever real, even if it felt like it was. But Natasha… she was always real to me. Now that she’s gone, the only real part of my life went with her, as well. And you—you’re real. Real to Natasha. And I… I know we just met, but I want you to be real for me, too. Not only as my sister’s spouse, but… as a friend, a sibling. I’d like to try.”

You gave her a warm smile, and reached out to pat her cheek twice, wiping the dampness away with your thumb. “I’d like that, Yelena.”

The two of you embraced again, and she nearly burst into tears upon realizing that you were the first person she’d hugged since she was blipped away.

“Did Natasha ever tell you how she broke my nose when we were kids?” she asked into the fabric of the hoodie you were wearing.

You pulled away with a skeptical gaze. “She told me you broke your own nose.”

The blonde laughed, low and chesty. “Man, do I have a lot of stories to tell you.”

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