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#kate bishop x reader platonic
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Y/N: *on the phone* Tony? I need your help! I-
Tony: Is the compound on fire?
Y/N: ...no?
Tony: Then, it’s not an emergency *hangs up*
Peter: Well? What did he say? What do we do about the portal to hell in the living room?
Y/N: *shrugs* Apparently it’s not an emergency
Kate: *being strangled by a demon* HOW THE FUCK IS THIS NOT AN EMERGENCY??
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Always Something to Learn
Word count: 3,350
Pairing: Kate Bishop x reader (platonic)
Reader pronouns: none used
Warnings: cursing, mentions of weaponry (though not used on anyone), Hawkeye spoilers
Another Prompt completed! This request was for Kate Bishop x reader (my first time writing for her), where both are vigilantes working together and Kate offers to train the reader in combat. This, of course, doesn't go over so well 😉
It took some time to write this one - I had some heavy writers block, and I also had to go back and watch the entire Hawkeye series again to refresh myself 😂 Hopefully I was able to capture Kate's character well enough!
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"Alright. Coast is clear."
"No time to waste, then. Come on."
You waved for Kate to follow you across the vast, perfectly manicured lawn as you dashed silently toward the front of the mansion. Her footsteps were barely audible in the grass behind you. She'd learned well, you thought.
Once across, you ducked into the shadow of the massive home, pressing yourself against the chilled, stucco-sided wall. A faint breeze to your left told you Kate had already joined you in the darkness. You turned your head slightly, holding a finger to your lips to urge her to remain silent as your eyes expertly skimmed the doors, windows, and awnings for signs of a security system.
"Damn. There's infrared sensors across the entire entrance," you hissed.
"How did you-"
"See up there?" You pointed up to the nearly imperceptible black orbs lining the edges of the walls surrounding the door. "Too small to be cameras. Plus, if you look really closely, you can see a faint red light from that sensor straight ahead."
"Wow. Ok, how do we get in, then?" Kate whispered.
"Through the only opening they'd never expect someone to enter."
Kate cocked her head at you in confusion. In response, you pointed straight up toward the roof.
"Based on the most recent satellite photos of this mansion, there's a sky light built into the roof over what I suspect is the foyer based on the placement."
"Great! And... how are we gonna get up there?"
"Aren't you the one with the plunger arrows?" you whispered, a teasing grin spreading across your features.
"I-I knew that. I was... just testing you," she stammered, reaching over her shoulder to unsheathe an arrow. Swiftly, she docked the arrow in her bow and let it fly toward the roof awning. It struck and stuck with a soft thump, leaving a climbing rope hanging from the shaft and dangling in front of the pair of you.
This wasn't the first insufferable rich bastard's house you'd broken into, and it likely wouldn't be the last. Kate, you knew, had some experience with such endeavors herself. It was part of the reason the two of you had hit it off so well after Clint had introduced you. As a long-time family friend of the Bartons, Clint was well acquainted with your heroic (and, admittedly, sometimes illegal) ventures in the pursuit of justice. He had also been insisting for years you needed a partner - although you knew he just wanted to make sure you stayed safe.
Quite frankly, he knew Kate needed a partner even more than you did. After her own home caught fire, combined with her mother being hauled off to jail, she didn't really have a place to go. Who better to pair you up with than the young aspiring hero? You were rather similar, after all.
Kate had been your roommate now for a few months. While you'd developed a fast friendship, you also both loved to push each other's buttons. She was like the sister you never had.
The pair of you made quick work of scaling the building, hoisting yourselves up and onto the roof once you’d reached the top. As you’d anticipated, there sat the sky light embedded in the roof. You cautiously walked across the roof shingles toward the edge of the sky light, inspecting it quickly for signs of security surveillance before pulling out your pocket-sized glass cutter.
“I’m gonna cut an opening through this window - then you can lower me down inside so I can get the stolen necklace.”
“Woah-woah, wait. Why do you get to go inside?” Kate hissed indignantly.
“Because I’m the most experienced with covert break-ins,” you whispered in response. “Not to mention, I’m also the only one who hasn’t gotten caught by the police.”
“Wha- that was one time! And how did you even know about that??”
“Clint tells me everything,” you explained with a sly wink. “Bringing down an entire bell tower with one arrow? Now that’s talent.”
“Ok, well, I still think I should go in. How am I gonna learn if I don’t get to try?”
“I’m going. End of story.”
“Then I won’t lower you down,” she bartered, folding her arms defiantly.
“I’ll just lower myself, then,” you retorted, digging around in your backpack for your rappelling gear.
“W-well then, I won’t lift you back up! You’ll just be stuck in there.”
With a heaving sigh, you paused in your searching to glare exasperatedly at Kate. “You’re not gonna drop this, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Fine.”
Kate whooped silently with excitement as you finally located your rappelling gear and handed it reluctantly to her. You spent the next few minutes instructing her on how to safely lower herself down, reminding her not to turn on any lights, giving her a rundown on how to identify surveillance equipment…
“Ok, ok! I’ve got this. I’ll be fine.” She shot you a confident grin.
“Just… be careful in there, ok?” you urged.
With that, you finished slicing a hole in the glass and began slowly lowering Kate down into the dark mansion. This certainly wasn’t the most dangerous mission you’d been on, but you couldn’t help but feel nervous for your friend’s wellbeing. The owners of the mansion - and dirty thieves, of course - were an older couple who were well past their spry years, mainly because they’d spent most of their lives schmoozing and drinking. The necklace they’d stolen was going to be sold at a charity auction to benefit the city - a cause which they decided they didn’t agree with. Why should they, when the money would only be going to lower income neighborhoods and homeless shelters?
Well, you weren’t going to let that stand.
You felt the rope slacken and jiggle slightly as Kate’s feet touched down on the floor below. She flipped her flashlight on, barely illuminating the area around her before waving up to you. Then, you watched her cautiously wander out of eyesight in search of the prize.
It was an agonizingly long ten minutes that you waited, breath bated in favor of remaining as silent as possible to listen for signs of distress. The room below remained still and quiet.
Until, suddenly, you heard Kate shout.
You nearly readied yourself to repel down after her when she suddenly came running into the foyer, her flashlight bouncing as she sprinted. Someone was chasing her, their shadow barely visible in the moving circle of light surrounding Kate. The pair of them were headed straight for the front door. You clambered to your feet and sprinted to the the edge of the roof, scooping up the climbing rope in your gloved hand as you leapt fearlessly into the darkness. The tight grip on the rope broke your fall, and you made quick work of descending the remaining distance to the ground just as the doors to the mansion burst open.
"Over here!" you hollered, waving for Kate to follow. Her gaze whipped up to meet yours, never once breaking stride as she dashed in your direction. Her pursuant was hot on her heels - a man, you could see now in the dim light of the moon. He couldn't possibly have gotten a good look at either of your faces in the darkness. If the pair of you could escape, it would be nearly impossible for this man to track you down without your names.
As Kate reached your location, you matched her stride, sprinting for the motorbike you had hidden behind the topiaries in the side yard. You risked a brief glance over your shoulder to see your pursuer only about thirty feet behind. He looked to be in his early 40s or so.
"Who the hell is that guy??" Kate hissed.
"I don't know - their son or something?"
"Do they even have a son?"
"No idea! Just keep going, we're nearly there."
You practically dove through the narrow space between bushes, swinging yourself onto the motorcycle and tugging Kate down behind you. The moment you felt her arms tighten around your waist, you threw the bike into drive and peeled out across the lawn, cringing as the bushes scraped the sides of the vehicle. No matter. The scratches would buff out eventually.
Clearly, the man had no idea you had a bike hidden in the side yard. He threw his arms up in frustration as the pair of you faded into the distance, skidding onto the street and zooming down the road with a roar of the engine.
And just like that, you had escaped.
"That was a goddamn close call, Kate - what the hell did you do in there??" you scolded loudly over the rumble of the bike beneath you.
"I don't know! I followed all of your instructions, I swear! He just came out of nowhere!"
"Well you must have tripped some alarm or something!"
"I swear to you, I saw nothing that would suggest a security system went off!"
You were silent for a moment, stewing over the fact that you hadn't been the one to go inside yourself. She needed to learn, of course, but damn if it wasn't frustrating trying to teach her.
"I got the necklace, by the way. Not that you asked."
"You did??" You glanced briefly over your shoulder as you pulled onto a side street off the main road. "Well... great! Glad we at least have that."
The pair of you were silent for the remainder of the ride, opting to save your voices rather than holler over the growl of the engine. At long last, you veered the bike into the parking lot to your apartment complex and parked it farthest from the streetlights illuminating the parking lot entrance to keep a low profile. The silence of the night pressed in on your ears as the rumbling of the bike clicked off.
"I could have taken him, you know," Kate muttered bitterly as you made your way inside. "I didn't want to engage with him, like you said. But I could have totally kicked his ass."
"Mmhmm. I'm sure." You rolled your eyes with a poorly disguised grin of amusement. Kate shoved your shoulder in response.
"I could!! You know I could. Don't pretend you don't."
"Sure. If you insist." You turned your key inside the lock to your front door, motioning for Kate to enter ahead of you as you swung the door open. She stuck her tongue out at you as she stepped past, flipping on the lights inside as you followed her in.
The moment the door shut behind you, you let your weight fall back against it, sliding slowly to the floor in exhaustion. Kate had already stepped over to the kitchen table and hoisted her bow off her shoulder, setting it down on the wooden surface along with her quiver.
"Really, Kate? Weapons on the table? What are you, a barbarian?" you scolded teasingly, picking yourself up off the floor with a tired groan.
"Not like we ever actually eat at the table," she countered, her gaze following you as you sauntered into the living room. She had you there. You shrugged.
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean we can't at least act like we're civilized."
"Civilized?!" Kate laughed, gesturing to where you now stood next to the sofa in the living area. "What civilized person carries that many weapons on them?"
"That doesn't make me uncivilized! That just makes me... overprepared."
With a grunt, you bent down and lifted your left pant leg enough to unbuckle the dagger sheath hidden around your calf, letting it clatter to the floor unceremoniously.
"Overprepared. Yeah." Kate gazed skeptically at you as you continued to unarm yourself. The pistol in the holster at your right hip that you set carefully on the coffee table. Another dagger sheathed in your left sleeve around your bicep that you unbuckled and allowed to drop to the floor beside the first. The small crowbar you kept shoved through the back of your belt, concealed under your shirt, that you tugged loose and dropped to the floor with a sigh of relief. "Seriously - you carry more weapons on you than the Russian army!"
"Do not! This is a perfectly normal quantity of weapons for a vigilante," you argued, removing the final pistol hidden in a pocket along the back of your left thigh and setting it down on the coffee table next to the other.
"What would you do if you didn't have all that metal on you? Wouldn't you feel so much... lighter?"
"Yeah, lighter and defenseless." You crossed the living room and slipped into your bedroom to change, closing the door most of the way behind you.
"You wouldn't be defenseless if you knew how to fight!" Kate called through the crack in your door. You sighed, tugging your shirt up over your head and moving to undo the button of your tactical gear bottoms.
"I know how to fight! I just prefer to do it with a weapon!"
Kate was silent for a moment while you slipped into more casual jeans and a cotton T-shirt. When you returned to the living area, she was standing in the middle of the room staring at you with an amused smirk.
"Honestly - for a seasoned vigilante, you sure rely on your weapons pretty heavily."
"Says you, miss mini Hawkeye," you quipped, motioning toward the bow lying across the kitchen table.
"Pshh, yeah, so... I use my bow and arrow... a lot," she admitted reluctantly, "but at least I know how to fight in hand-to-hand combat if I'm caught without a weapon!"
"I would be just fine if I got in a fight with no weapon!" you scoffed.
"Would not! I would totally smoke you in a fight."
You snickered. "I seriously doubt that."
Kate followed behind you as you strode into the kitchen and tugged the refrigerator door open. "You don’t think that my literal years of martial arts training would give me an advantage?"
"Nope. I've been doing this a lot longer than you have." You gazed blankly into the open refrigerator, trying to decide what you even wanted.
"I don't buy that." Kate's voice faded slightly as she began pacing across the kitchen floor behind you. "Seriously - you should let me train you! I bet you'd be so much better at fighting if I trained you."
"Train me?" The door to the refrigerator slammed shut as you released it, spinning around to face Kate with a bewildered expression. "You think you could train me?"
"Well... yeah, obviously," she asserted, planting her hands on her hips. "You might be a weapons master, but you've got nothing on my combat skills."
"I have been doing undercover field work for over a decade - and you dare to suggest you could train me?" You fought to contain the amused, teasing grin as you slowly advanced on her, trying to maintain the intimidating façade. Kate squared her shoulders, planting her feet firmly in place to stand her ground.
"Yeah. Yeah, I do!" she declared, jutting her chin up with an air of confidence. You let a slow smirk overtake your features.
"I'll show you who's the master of combat, here," you growled. Without further warning, you lunged forward and tackled Kate to the ground.
She clearly wasn't expecting the sudden physical attack, based on the shriek of surprise that burst from her throat as the pair of you barreled to the floor. You took advantage of her astonishment, swiftly pinning her wrists to her back and digging your fingers into her side.
"Ack- HEHEY! Cuhut that out!" Kate demanded. You could hear her feet digging into the floor behind you in effort to gain traction.
"What's the matter? Weren't expecting to be taken down by the master?" you taunted, pinching your way up her ribcage. She snorted suddenly in response, rolling hard. To your surprise, she successfully threw you off of her. You toppled sideways, barely striking the floor before Kate was on top of you. She swiftly snatched your wrists and pinned them beneath her knees at your sides, her hand darting up to wrap loosely around your throat.
"You... you were saying?" she panted, eyes flashing victoriously.
“Please. This proves nothing, other than the fact that you get ridiculously violent when someone tickles you.”
“Uh, yeah. It’s called instinct. You’d have it, too, if you were ticklish.” She punctuated her statement with a sudden squeeze at your exposed side with her free hand. Unable to contain your reaction, you spluttered and jerked away from her fingers. Her eyes lit up, and your stomach sank. “No. Way.”
“Kate, I swear, you’d better get off m-eep!” You let out a squeak as her fingers contracted into your side once again.
“All this time, and I just assumed someone like you couldn’t possibly be ticklish!” she marveled.
“Yeah… well… you thought wrong, obviously. Now get off.”
“I thought you were the better fighter?” An impish smirk spread across her face. “You should have no problem throwing me off you.”
You let out a frustrated growl, tugging at your wrists to try to free them. Kate dug both hands into your ribcage viciously the moment you started struggling. A loud burst of laughter exploded from your chest at the suddenness of it, only serving to egg her on as she scratched rapidly at the spaces between your ribs.
“This is actual gold!” she exclaimed, her grin only widening at your extreme reaction. “How are those weapons working for you now, huh? Wish you knew how to fight, don’t you?”
You managed to yank your wrists free, immediately sitting up and shoving Kate off so you could roll and spring to your feet. Before you’d even turned around to face her, Kate swept your feet out from underneath you with a well-placed kick to the ankles, knocking you face-first to the ground. She dove on top of you, snatching your wrists and slamming them to your back to pin them in place the way you’d done to her. Tickling fingers found their way up under your arm before you could spit out the empty threats on the tip of your tongue.
“Not so tough now, are you, super spy?” Kate goaded, pressing harder against your wrists as you began to struggle violently under her weight. “Still think you’re a better fighter than me?”
“GEHET OFF, DAHAMNIT!” You dug your toes into the floor and bucked your hips in effort to knock her off. This only served to be your downfall. Taking advantage of the increased space, Kate wriggled her fingers into the softer skin on the side of your belly just below your ribs. With a screech, you dropped your weight back down to the floor, dissolving into hysterics. "WAIT-WAIT-WAIT... OHOKAY! OKAY I-HI GIHIHIVE! PLEHEASE!"
"Wow! This might be your ultimate weakness!" she exclaimed in amusement. Thankfully, she heeded your surrender, relenting in her brutal attack and shifting her weight off your legs. Exhausted, you gradually rolled onto your back, coughing as you greedily sucked in oxygen. "So... remind me... what was that about not needing my training?"
"Oh, shut it," you groaned, pushing your upper body up on the palms of your hands to sit up. Kate stood, offering you a hand, which you accepted reluctantly.
"Seriously, though - I would love to teach you some combat moves. And..." Kate pondered for a moment, a genuine grin crossing her face. "... maybe... you could teach me my way around a dagger. You know, to pay me back?"
You sighed, shaking your head but grinning all the same. As much as you hated to admit it, she was right. There was a lot you could learn from your friend. And, of course, there was much she could learn from you, too. If you could both set aside your pride, of course.
"Alright, Bishop." You held your hand out, offering her a handshake. Her grin broadened as she grasped your hand, shaking it firmly just twice. "You've got yourself a deal."
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yanaromanov · 20 days
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my sweet assistant
- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader
part summary: you take a position in assisting professor romanoff after classes to make up for a missed assignment. your flustered state only continues as you’re forced to spend one-on-one time with her, even more so when her wife is introduced into the equation…
part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, minor death, funeral etc. minors dni
authors note: this took me a bit longer to write and release than i would have liked thanks to my broken arm and writers block so apologies for that. but even tho i kinda hate it, it’s here now, so i hope you enjoy! :)
part two of the inescapable love series
inescapable love series
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・ 。゚*. 18+, minors DNI . * 。゚・
11.5K words
People say life comes with its ups and downs, something you had come to learn was rather true, but why did it always seem the downs came at the worst of times? A call from your mother was never really a good sign to begin with, usually her nagging being the only thing waiting on the other end of the line, but this time when you picked up and heard what she had to say, not good turned to terribly bad. It wasn’t the extent of the problem as such that worried you, more so the timing. Your Russian class had an assignment coming up, due in less than a week, and thinking you had enough time to get round to it, you still hadn’t started. Something that would have been totally fine if not for your mom’s name popping up on your phone last night and sharing news that would throw your entire schedule off.
The way your mom had picked up the phone had immediately informed you something was wrong, but a death announcement was certainly the last thing you had been expecting to hear on a Sunday night. It was your grandmother, on your dad’s side. She’d passed away over the weekend, finally giving up on the hospice care she’d been dependent on for months. The news itself hadn’t been too much of a shock, the old woman’s health deteriorating for years, and it didn’t much upset you either. You’d never really been close to your grandmother, your brother being the one favoured from your family, keeping you distanced whenever you visited her house. Your teenage self had already mourned for the relationship you had never had and that felt more painful than the actual loss in front of you now.
The main thing concerning your mind now was how you were going to complete your assignment. On the phone, your mom had told you she’d already booked the flights for you coming home, prepared for the funeral just that week, a quick turn around due the arrangements been made in advance from the anticipation of her death. It would see you in England the entirety of the week, leaving tomorrow afternoon and not returning until late Friday evening. Even with the extra days you had at home, the funeral tea and family gatherings would no doubt leave you no time at all to complete your assignment.
You knew what you had to do now, had done it many times before for other classes, but something about this time felt more intimidating. As you sat in the lecture theatre, watching your professor teach at the front of the class, your heart pounded in your chest at the thought of asking for the extension. More time alone would have to be spent with your Russian professor, the last time still lingering unwanted in your mind. The thought of speaking to her one on one once more was enough to send your anxious mind into a frenzy.
Desperately, you tried to cling on to the reality of things as your lesson continued. It was the day of the week where your class would practice your Russian speaking, conversing with one another whilst Professor Romanoff would walk around, listening in and correcting any mispronunciations. In the end, it would build up to the speaking exam the end of semester held, a private conversation that each student would have with your professor which was then graded alongside your written tests.
The girl sat beside you had claimed the spot as your partner when the first speaking lesson had started up, thankfully not the same girl who’d passed you dirty looks after your perfectly scored paper. The two of you worked through the worksheet in front of you, sounding out the words and building them up into a conversation. Your partner seemed slower than you to grasp the concepts, but you found you didn’t quite mind, allowing your thoughts the moments in between to plan exactly how you’d make your request to Professor Romanoff.
When the class had finally drawn to a close, everyone began packing up their things, worksheets handed back down towards the front. Professor Romanoff stood against her desk, collecting papers as she shouted out across the clamouring hall. “Remember your assignment is due on Friday everyone. Do not use google translate. I can tell!”
It seemed your class wasn’t paying her announcement much notice, instead focused on making it out of the double doors and out into the corridor. Like you had done before, you packed away your things slowly, lingering in the row of seats until almost everyone had left the room. Only when the last few stragglers were close to the door, did you begin your descent towards the central desk. Professor Romanoff stood wiping clean the board once again, back facing you. This time, however, you cleared your throat to make your presence known. The woman’s face was slightly bewildered as she turned, melting away immediately as she spied you standing across the way, a smile appearing on her lips instead. “Miss Y/L/N,” she said, wiping the chalk dust away from her hands and turning back to close the distance between you. “Is everything alright?”
"Uhm, yes," you said nervously, watching as the woman came to stand in front of you. "Well...no, but-" You shook your head, attempting to dispel the anxious thoughts that clouded your brain. Fingers began to fidget as you looked back up at your professor with a nervous smile. "I was wondering if I could possibly get an extension for the assignment?" The redhead in front of you raised a single brow, looking inquisitive to your scenario and hence, drawing more of and explanation from your chest. "It's just my grandma passed away and I have to fly back to England for her funeral this week. I'm not going to be back till Friday night and with all the travelling and family stuff and jet lag, I probably won't have enough time to do it." Your hands gestured about, trying to find anything else to do rather than anxiously pick at your nail beds. "I don't need a long extension, maybe just till Monday? I can get it done over the weekend when I'm back."
The spill of words finally fell short in the silent room, your blurting echoing ever so slightly in the emptiness of the hall. Professor Romanoff stood in front of you, today wearing a matching black skirt and blazer, a white shirt neatly tucked in. "I'm sorry to hear about your grandmother." Your gaze raised up to the pair of green eyes as she spoke, a soft expression held between her features. "Are you doing alright?"
The question had came unexpectedly. You shook your head as you answered. "Oh yeah, I'm fine." You smiled sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders. "We were never close."
"Well," Professor Romanoff replied, gaze softening further. "I'm still sorry to hear about her." She passed you a gentle smile as she stepped towards her desk, leaning against the front of it like it seemed she had a habit of doing. When she looked back up at you, her expression had changed. "As for an extension..." Her emerald stare met yours, always seemingly able to make you shy away. "You're a good student Y/N, so I'd really like to say yes, but unfortunately I have a policy against extensions."
Your memory fleeted back to the first day of class, suddenly recalling the rules your professor had set out. Extensions would only be given to those with medical absence, provided they had a document signed by a health professional. Only remembering that now, you felt entirely stupid for asking for the extension in the first place. "That's right," you blurted. "I'm so sorry, I totally forgot. Listen, forget I even said anything." You adjusted the straps of your backpack as you made to turn your body towards the door. "I'll try get it done on the plane or something. Thank you anyway."
You made it about three steps away before you heard your name being called out from behind you. Slowly, you turned your shoulders, looking back at the woman who still sat against her desk. "Yes, Miss Romanoff?" you called in response. A single manicured nail raised up, the finger curling to beckon you back in the direction you'd came. Biting down on the skin of your cheek, you turned fully, slowly closing the gap that had formed between you and your professor. When you stood in front of her again, you began to rub one of your arms nervously.
Professor Romanoff inclined her head towards you, a faint smile on her painted lips. "I can't give you an extension but I can offer you an alternative. Some extra credit that will cover the assignment, worth the same percentage of your grade. And I'll even give you the full marks."
Your head angled in both curiosity and uncertainty. The prospect of the extra credit sounded like just what you needed, but you couldn't quite grasp the notion that your professor was suggesting. "Full marks?" you asked. "As in, a hundred percent on the assignment?"
A painted smirk pulled at the corner of your professor's mouth, her body leaning ever so slightly closer to yours. "Don't act like it's such a miracle, sweetie. We both know what you're capable of, hm?"
As her words hit you, you could immediately feel the warmth they brought to your cheeks. Face feeling flushed, you tried to distract your brain, unfocusing on the perfect pair of lips still smirking in your direction. "What would I have to do for the extra credit?"
Professor Romanoff sighed, adjusting herself on the desk. You diverted your eyes as her arms crossed her body, once again pushing her slightly-revealed cleavage up against her chest. "Well, my assistant for this year pulled out on me last minute, which has left me just drowned in work." Green eyes met yours as a wide smile spread across the redhead's lips. "So, just give me a helping hand after class for a few weeks and the credit is all yours."
This proposal seemed almost too good to be true. Simply helping out your professor in turn for a perfect grade? It almost didn't seem fair. As you thought over her offer, the idea couldn't help but make you feel a little flustered. After all it would entail spending time alone with the red haired woman, something that seemed to leave you an oddly ruffled mess. But the entire thing sounded far too good to pass up, an opportunity practically laid out on a silver platter. Sounding easy enough to follow through with, you nodded your head with a smile. "Yeah, I can do that."
The smile on Professor Romanoff's face widened at your agreement. "Perfect," she said, green eyes glinting. "Can I see you back here next Monday? Say...three pm?"
You nodded once more. "Yeah. That works for me."
"Alright then," the redhead replied. She stood up from her desk, smiling down on you from the height accentuated by her heeled boots. "Don't you worry your pretty head about the assignment and I'll just see you here next week."
The words seemed to wash over you with a flush, something igniting inside that you couldn't quite put a finger on. Nervously, you looked to the floor, picking at the ends of your jumper while Professor Romanoff moved to stand behind her desk, seemingly unaware of your heightened nervousness. Before you could properly formulate a response, the other woman was already speaking once more. "Go on then. Don't want to be late for your next class do you?"
Her words seemed to shake you back to the present, that nervous little smile appearing on your face again. "Right," you said, adjusting your backpack. "Thank you, professor."
She smiled back at you. "It's no problem, honey. Now run along."
You found yourself nodding as you turned to leave, urged on by her commands. A few steps away she called out to you. "Take care of yourself, Y/N."
You looked back over your shoulder, flashing a small smile. "I will Miss Romanoff. Thank you." And with that, you were walking out the door, headed towards your next class with you mind focused on what exactly your assistant duties with Professor Romanoff may entail.
———
"When are you back again?"
"Friday night. About nine-ish?"
You passed the raven-haired girl a quick glance over your shoulder as you continued to fold the items of clothing in your hand. A loud sigh filled the space as you heard Kate roll over in her bed, rustling the top of her sheets. "That's four whole days of you leaving me completely alone."
As you placed the last of your clothes into the open suitcase, you swiveled around to look at Kate. Your brow furrowed as you noticed your best friend sprawled dramatically across the covers. "Kate, you do realised we have other friends?" you replied with a soft sigh.
But it seemed the girl took no notice, throwing her hand up to cover her eyes as another noise of discomfort slipped from her lips. "I'm gonna look like such a loser at breakfast." The truth was that the pair of you did have more friends at university, with whom Kate could definitely speak to while you were away, despite how the majority of the time it was always just the two of you. This could be down to the fact you were the only ones still sharing a dorm on campus, most of your friends having moved out to apartments around the city. You and Kate had looked into that option but your loan wasn't enough to cover the rent, so you'd both settled to remain in the on-campus accommodation, still sharing your meals in the wide dining hall.
You sighed again. "I'm sorry my grandma dying is such an inconvenience to you." At that, Kate shot up in bed, immediately looking less irritated and instead concerned. The way you smiled playfully back at her, however, made her brows drop ever so slightly, the fear of her actions hurting you slipping away. You'd already told her you weren't all that bothered by the passing, more so annoyed by the bother of it all, but it seemed despite how dramatic she could be, Kate was still worried about your feelings. "Relax Bishop," you said, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. "You know I'm kidding. I hate the fact I'm going just as much as you do." With all the hustle of trying to get through your work that day, you hadn't had much time to think about the reality of going home. Now packing your things, the dread of it all was beginning to settle on your shoulders. Still, you forced a smile on your lips as you walked across to Kate's bed, sitting yourself down next to her. "I'm sorry I'm leaving but I'll make it up to you, yeah?"
Just then, a spark seemed to light up in Kate's eyes. She turned to you, a wide smirk plastered on her lips. "Will you come to a party with me?" The proposal was one Kate often brought up, and one that was just as often shut down. Whenever Kate was getting ready to go out for a night, you were always cooped up in your textbooks, ignoring her complaints of how you studied too much and focusing instead on memorising every piece of material on the paper. For three years, your best friend has had to drag you to every party you'd ever been to, sometimes even snatching the book from your hands and then pleading you with puppy dog eyes. Those same eyes looked at you now, silently begging.
"Fine," you said finally, causing Kate to throw her hands up in the air. You raised your hand before her excitement could get out of hand. "But only one and not until after midterms."
The girl looked slightly disheartened but her smile still remained wide. "Fine," she replied, looking to already be planning the event she'd drag to you in a few weeks time. As Kate settled herself back in her bed, you stood to cross the room, returning to your almost-packed suitcase. You placed the last item in one side - a long black coat Kate had let you borrow to wear to the funeral - then zipped up the first half. All the other half was missing was your toiletries bag, of which would have to wait until the morning to be packed. As you were closing things up, you threw a comment to Kate over your shoulder. "I spoke to my Russian professor today about that extension for the assignment, remember?"
You heard Kate's head turn towards you, becoming distracted from her party planning. "Oh yeah, what'd she say?"
As the final zip on your suitcase closed, you turned back around to your best friend. "She doesn't really do extensions so she said I can help out after class instead to make up my grade."
Kate's brow furrowed. "What, like an assistant?"
"Yeah, exactly. Hers apparently dropped out so I'm filling in for a few weeks." You bent down to push your suitcase under your bed, ready to go tomorrow morning, then stood again, shrugging your shoulders. "She said she'll give me the equivalent of full marks for the assignment."
"Wait, what?" Kate shot up in bed, her jaw hanging slack. "You just help her plan a couple lessons and get a free ride to a perfect score?"
You breathed out a laugh, not only at Kate's theatric tone but also at the improbable truth of the scenario. It hadn't really hit you until now how easy you had it, an exceptional gateway to an easy 'A'. "Yeah," you giggled out, taking a seat on your bed. "I mean, she said I'm a good student so she expected me to do well anyway." You tried to ignore the strange tingle in your head as you recounted your professor's words, instead focusing on Kate who flung herself up in her bed.
"Dude," she said, looking at you incredulously. Her eyes shifted, looking down to the floor. "Maybe I should have taken Russian this year."
Another laugh spilled from your lips as you stood, closing the gap between you and your best friend. "I think you should focus on the classes you're already taking." Your hand reached out for Kate's pulling her up from her bed before she could get a chance to reply. "Now, let's go get dinner. I'm starving."
———
The setting sun streamed in through the wide windows of Natasha's office. The entire room was painted in a soft orange glow, guiding the redhead as she finally began to pack up for the night. Today had been a long day for her, her daily schedule packed and evening full of essay marking that needed to be completed by tomorrow. Finally, Natasha had managed to get finished up, closing her laptop and packing away her notes for the night. She tucked them away into her bag to bring to work the next day before shutting off the lamp inside the room and retiring from her office for the night.
Her feet padded across the wooden floors as she made her way out of the home office. The sun's glow followed her, let in by the expansive windows her and Wanda's house contained. When she reached the living room, Natasha spied her wife curled up on the corner of their sofa, a blanket draped over her legs and an open book sat in her hands. Her footsteps were silent as she made her way over to the other redhead. Though she imagined her wife had still felt her approach, as she didn't flinch when Nat's hands came down for a hug from behind. Natasha's arms wrapped around her wife, a small hum escaping her lips as she pressed a gentle kiss to the pulse point of her neck. "Baby," Natasha whispered, her voice low. Wanda simply hummed in response, her eyes still focused on her novel, her attention only slightly skewed when Natasha leaned in closer, pressing more kisses down the skin of her neck.
"I need to speak to you about something." Natasha's voice remained low, her words fanning out on to her wife's collar bones. She'd been waiting for this moment now for a while, anticipating just the right time to bring up her scenario to her wife. The thoughts had been circling her head for a small while now, perhaps longer than she liked to admit, but she found she couldn't wait any longer to share.
"What is it, moya lyubov?" Wanda's eyes finally raised from her book, head turning over her shoulder to look up at her wife. Though, this position didn't last long, as Natasha lifted her legs and swung herself over the back of the couch, landing in a position beside her wife. This was a habit Wanda hated, forever telling Natasha to 'use her legs like an adult', but this time she didn't have time to pester the redhead as she'd already began to speak. "Do you remember that student we spoke about? The one that got the perfect score."
The slight look of annoyance from Nat's behavior was quickly replaced by an inquisitive expression as Wanda furrowed her brow. The redhead finally closed her book on her lap, sliding a bookmark into place. "Yeah, I do. What was her name again?"
"Y/N Y/L/N."
Wanda hummed, a small smiling appearing on her lips. "That's it. Cute name. What about her?"
Natasha inhaled, her mind passing over the already scripted conversation she'd created. "I spoke with her again today. Came in asking for an extension for an assignment." The redhead smiled, remembering the interaction from that morning. She took another deep breath before she uttered the next words from her mouth. "I think I've maybe taking a liking to her."
"Oh?" Wanda's eyebrows raised, her expression changing to one of surprise. It wasn't new that the couple were searching for someone else in their relationship, the openness of the topic having been in circulation almost since the two had first got together. But the surprise came from the fact Nat had perhaps found someone she believed could slot into their duo, her and Wanda's standards usually far too rigid to find anyone to spend more than a night with. If Natasha was bringing up a girl like this, she must have seriously considered the possibility of a longer association, and that thoroughly intrigued Wanda.
"Now," Natasha continued. "Of course I don't want to do anything we don't both agree on, but..." She paused for just a moment, smiling a little up at her wife. "I would be lying if I said I hadn't already been playing around with her. Just a little bit." Natasha held up her fingers, signaling the small amount of teasing she'd subjected her prized student to. "You know, I didn't want to come asking your permission for a girl who turned out to be a bore."
The more Natasha continued to talk, the more Wanda became interested and invested by the conversation at hand. She slowly slipped her book to the couch beside her, leaning in closer towards her wife. "And is she?"
A wide smirk appeared on Natasha's lips as she relished in her wife's question. "Not in the slightest." Her expression only deepened as she recalled the little moments of you she'd been observing in class. "She's so fucking cute," she said, stating the obvious right off the bat. "She's always early for class and always paying so much attention. She shows up in the sweetest little outfits, like she doesn't even know how good she looks." The redhead smiled as she remembered the sight of you in your small summer dresses or slightly oversized sweaters. "Oh," she said, reminded of her favourite bit of all. "And she has this adorable little English accent."
With the last of her wife's words, a similar looking smirk began to appear on Wanda's own face. "Well now I'm intrigued.”
Natasha smiled back at her words as she shrugged a shoulder. "As I said, I played around a little bit and Wands..." The redhead had to suppress a sigh as she reached for her wife's hand. "I just know how much fun she'd be," she continued, her voice almost a whine. "I mean, she gets flustered so easily. One little pet name and she's already hiding away her flushed face."
Wanda's smirk deepened as Natasha continued to talk, stirred further by the slight desperation she could hear in the redhead's voice. She had to wonder just how long she'd been wondering about this one student and just how much fun she was getting to have without her... "Go ahead, malysh," Wanda replied finally, squeezing her wife's hand gently. "I trust your instincts. You'll just have to introduce me sometime soon."
Natasha's brows shot up. "You're sure?"
"Yeah," Wanda chuckled back slightly, amused by the excitement underlying Nat's voice. When she spoke again, her lips had formed a devilish smirk. "It'll be fun. It's been a while since we had somebody to play with."
———
The funeral was awful. Of course, one never expects such an event to be the epitome of joy, but this particular funeral was like your own personally curated hell. Your entire family was gathered in one place, meaning not only were your parents’ critiques breathed down your neck the entire time, but they were also joined by those more distant. Grandparents and judgmental aunts seemed to team up on you, all obsessing over your university career and what your future plans were. Many pestered the question of your singularity, claiming that ‘a pretty young thing like you should have been swept up by a man a long time ago’. Unfortunately, the almost-compliment that could be found in their talk, was quickly diminished by the discussion of how it must be something wrong with your personality rather than your face, comments all whispered from where they thought you couldn’t hear.
There was no escape from the constant berating, your schedule full of family meals and teas, and far too lengthy conversations around the fireplace, of which you could not be excused due to your mother’s abhorrence of anyone ever thinking of her children as rude. To make matters worse, you were exhausted from jet lag and the flight, something certainly not helped by the endless hours of socializing and pressing on a smile for your family.
Still, you pushed through like the perfect daughter you always tried to be. You sat politely at the funeral, wearing an old black dress and Kate’s coat, the perfume of your best friend aiding a little to your torturous discomfort. Though your family cried, your eyes remained dry, silently staring at your feet and trying not to draw any attention to yourself. At the funeral tea, you shook hands and smiled softly at family members, answering any questions they asked with the grace your mother had forced upon your shoulders at a young age. Of course, she found her usual pride in parading you and your brother around like a pair of trophies she’d spent hours shining. The entirety of every event was exhausting.
Even at the will reading, there was no break to be given. Your late grandmother had graciously scattered her belongings to her loved ones, though seemingly biased to those who she deemed more palatable. Your brother received a chunk of her money alongside her old ring, something the family gushed over due to the prospect of his long-term girlfriend who he could now finally pop the big question to. Your rolled your eyes as they pandered over him, all blatantly dismissive of the old bible you’d been left, with your grandmother’s handwriting inside with a note of how she wished for it to be read out of at your wedding when you finally found yourself a suitable husband. You had simply rolled your eyes and shoved it to the bottom of your bag.
All that being said, it was a huge relief to you when you finally made your way back to the airport. Though you’d had to spend the journey constantly criticized by your mother about your uni work, as soon as you stepped on to the plane, relief was flooding over your shoulders. As the sky came to fill the widow, clouds passing by, you were more than grateful to be heading back to the true place you thought of as home.
Kate came to pick you up from the airport, hugging you immediately and beginning to rant about the idiots she’d encountered in the car park as she pulled your case towards the exit. The pair of you went straight to a mcdonald’s drive thru, your hunger unquenched from the bad aeroplane food you’d been offered. Fries and hamburgers were shared in the front seat of the car as you relayed back your awful week to Kate, telling her everything that you hadn’t even had the chance to text her due to your family’s never-ending nagging.
That weekend was very stressful. Due to the packed schedule you had followed back in England, you’d had next to no time to complete any of your work from that week. So, from morning until night, you cooped yourself up at your desk and ground it all out. At times, Kate had to drag you down to the hall for some food or persistently remind you to even go to bathroom. In the end however, you managed to get it all finished. By eleven o’clock Sunday night, you were finally all caught up from your missed classes and had completed all your deadlines. The light in the room were low, only your small desk lamp lighting up the space. Kate slept in her bed, hair fanning out across the pillows. You were quiet as you cleaned your space, eyeing the untouched plate of food Kate had brought up for you after you’d refused to go down for dinner. It was long cold now and you felt a little guilty throwing it out, but you were far too tired now to think about eating. Instead, you simply turned off the light and slid yourself into your bed, finally letting your mind rest and prepare itself to return to your regularly scheduled classes the next morning.
———
"Alright everyone, that's all for today's lesson. Are there any questions?"
Like always, the bustle began began your professor could even finish his sentence. Everyone was already packing away their things, drowning out the teacher's voice with their own hustle to leave. It happened almost every class, and almost every time you felt bad, one of the only people who remained still until they had officially dismissed you. But today, you found yourself following the crowd more than you usually would have. See, your professor had droned on a bit too long that afternoon, moving into the passing period you had between classes. Most times that wouldn't have been a big deal seeing as it was your last class of the day, but today was the day you were supposed to meet Professor Romanoff and thanks to your English professor's extensive elaborations, you were left with only a few minutes until you'd be late. So today you put your cares aside and as the class packed up, so did you, stuffing everything into your backpack and throwing it over your shoulder before joining the crowd exiting the lecture hall.
Your English building was on the exact opposite side of campus as your destination, so your feet held a quick pace as you flitted between the crowds of students on your way. Pathways were held up by casually conversing people, all relaxed now their days were over. They all annoyed you severely as they slowed down your journey, obviously uncaring that you still had places to be. By the time you had reached the building in which your Russian class was held, the clock was already a few minutes passed the scheduled time. You almost burst in through the doors of the hall, ever so slightly out of breath from your fast paced journey across campus. As soon as you entered the room, you spied the redheaded professor sat at her desk, head buried into her laptop. She looked up to you as you walked across the floor, nervously adjusting the backpack straps on your shoulders. "Hi," you breathed out, trying your best to seem casual despite your racing lungs. "I'm sorry I'm a little late. My last lecture ran over a little."
A pair of perfectly white teeth smiled back in your direction, Professor Romanoff looking you over. "Y/N," she said, her gentle voice falling upon your ears. Something about it in that moment made you realize you had almost missed it over your break, but the rational part of your brain soon took over and told you you were being ridiculous. "Don't worry about being late, you're barely two minutes over." She smiled again as you closed the final distance between you, moving to stand by the edge of her desk. She stood as you did, displaying today a pair of grey slacks and a soft black jumper, all adorned with delicate gold jewelry. Her smiling face looked down at you, that forgotten odd feeling of warmth spreading through your gut. "It's good to see you again. How are you? How was your trip?"
You ignored the sensation in your stomach as you smiled back at her. "I'm good. The trip was fine. A little boring but fine." There were many worse words to describe your trip than ‘boring' but you decide to settle for that, not wanting to bother your professor with the complicated details of your family and more so, simply wanting to leave the entire week in the past and not think of it again.
“That’s good,” Professor Romanoff replied with that same easy smile. “I’m glad to hear you’re alright.” Her hands lifted from the pockets they hid in, reaching out to open a drawer of her desk. You wondered for a moment what she might be looking for before she pulled out a small stack of papers, extending them out towards you. “These are some extra notes from last week’s lectures.”
You smiled, slightly surprised. “Oh, thank you.” Most of your university work could be found online for both absence and revision purposes, but it never was quite the same as attending the classes themselves. Usually you hated using just the online notes to catch up, never grasping the material as well as you’d like, but this weekend you’d had to make do. That was, of course, until Professor Romanoff handed you the extra notes. “That’s very kind of you.”
“Well,” your professor replied. “I wouldn’t want my best student falling behind, would I?”
Her words worked to form that warm sensation across your cheeks, the given title heating up your insides with flustering pride. You were grateful the woman had started to busy herself at her desk with something else as you tried to brush off her compliments as smoothly as possible, attempting to hide the flush of your skin.
“You can grab a chair from the side. Bring it over.”
You nodded, almost snapping back to reality once more with Professor Romanoff’s words. You placed your backpack down beside her desk, quickly slotting the extra notes into the large pocket before moving to grab a spare chair from the edge of the room. When you returned, your professor had seemingly found what she was searching for, a large stack of papers now sat in the centre of the desk.
“Sit,” Romanoff beckons with a smile, gesturing her hand towards the front of her desk. You pull up your chair, positioning yourself across from her own seated position. “These are tests I need marked. They’re all multiple choice and there’s a marking scheme.” The redhead lifted a single piece of paper, handing it over your way. “So you’ll just have to see if the letters match up on both papers. That sound okay?”
You nodded once more, her instructions seeming simple enough. “Yeah, sounds fine.”
“Great.” With a smile, Professor Romanoff slid the pile of unmarked papers across the desk towards you. She explained that if you needed any help, just to ask, and that she’d just be busying herself on her laptop. You nodded again, reaching into your backpack quickly for a pen before you began to work away.
It was an easy job really, simply matching the circled letters on the quiz papers to that of the marking scheme. In truth, it was almost relaxing to have something to do that didn’t require much brain power. Professor Romanoff sat across from you, typing away on her laptop. Occasionally, you’d look up to take a glance at her, catching moments of concentration or boredom on her face, but your eyes would never linger long, too scared of getting caught looking her way. She’d turned on the radio to fill a bit of the silence, music humming softly from a black stereo on the edge of the desk. All in all, the endeavour was a blessing in disguise - much simpler and easier than the effort the equivalent assignment would have took.
“You getting on alright, milaya?”
The voice brought you from the almost trance you’d put yourself in as you marked the set of papers. Your head rose from them, more than half the stack already complete as you smiled back at your professor. “Yeah, all good.”
She nodded, smiling at you with her perpetually perfect red lips. Under her gaze, you felt your eyes drop back to the papers, for some reason feeling entirely too see every time she looked your way. She went to turn back towards her laptop, your hand reaching out to continue marking, but a lingering question had been vibrating in your head. You had been too afraid to ask before, to be the one to break the soft silence of the room, but now was your opportunity. “Are these law papers?”
Professor Romanoff looked back at you, her expression soft. “Yes,” she said, simply. “I also teach a beginners law class alongside my usual Russian.”
You felt your eyebrows raise, unexpecting of her answer but also rather impressed. Now it made sense why the papers you were marking were not at all taking about Russian vocabulary but instead legal terminology.
“I studied a law major at college,” the red haired woman continued. “It was going to be my career until I decided to teach instead.”
“Huh,” you hummed, interested by the new information you were discovering about your teacher. “Why’d you decide to switch?”
Romanoff shrugged a shoulder. “Honestly, I love teaching.” A small smirk then appeared on her lips as she leaned in closer across the table. “Besides, my wife is a lawyer and just between me and you, I’m not sure I’d like her as my boss. She can be a little scary sometimes.”
There was a playfulness to her tone that you easily pick up on, the entire interaction meant as a jest, but somehow it left you with a strange feeling in your chest. You listened to your professor’s words, but your mind seemed to stick on one. Wife. In that moment, you suddenly realised you hadn’t pictured her being married - not that you had pictured her at all, your mind chided in defence. Now you quickly realised that she was indeed with another person, and not just that, but with a woman. Suddenly you had to push your mother’s berating thoughts from your head.
“So what about you?”
“Sorry?” you replied, mind crashing back to the present moment. Professor Romanoff looked back at you with an almost playful looking smirk. It only added to that strange feeling inside your chest.
“What’s your major?” the redhead elaborated.
“Oh.” You sat up straighter, trying to adjust your jumper in an effort to conceal the fact you’d gotten lost in your thoughts once more. “I’m an English major.” Romanoff raised a brow, the smirk on her face widening to almost a smile. You sighed softly, throwing your head to the side. “You can make the joke if you want, everyone does.”
An English girl studying English. You’d heard almost every variation of the joke, mostly from drunk boys at frat parties that thought they were the pinnacle of humour. Shouldn’t you already be an expert at that? Wait, they don’t teach you English in England?
You were expecting some similar turn of phrase to escape your professors lips, following in the footsteps of everyone you’d had this conversation with before. But to your surprise, she simply shook her head, frowning ever so slightly. “I think I’ll refrain,” she said, frown turning into the same wide smirk. “I hate being unoriginal.”
A laugh bubbled up in your throat, pushing out through a smile and into the air. Your professor followed, chuckling with you. After a moment, she stilled, looking back at you curiously. “So, tell me,” she said, leaning in closer to the desk. “What does bring you all the way to America to study?”
Because I can’t stand being at home with my parents. “Experience, I guess,” you said with a shrug, hiding away the truth behind a smile. “And I got a full scholarship when I applied so…” Your words died down, not quite sure how to finish your explanation.
Thankfully, your professor seemed to pick up the conversation easily. “A very smart girl, hm?” Her lips met as she hummed and it seemed you could feel the vibrations running down your spine. Your eyes fell back to your lap, trying to hide the awkward smile her praise had brought. You were unsure of what exactly you should do, contemplating if her question was rhetoric or not, and praying the former due to your inability to think of a response. Blessedly, Professor Romanoff cut through your mind’s distress with another question. “You’re in fourth year, right?”
Your eyes picked back up, meeting hers. “Yeah.”
She smiled, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared back at you intently. “And what exactly lead a fourth year English student to my beginner’s Russian class?”
You were getting a little bit of deja vu of the conversation you’d had with Kate multiple times. This time, you settled on the short answer. “I thought it sounded interesting,” you said simply, smiling as you shrugged your shoulders.
Professor Romanoff seemed amused by your answer. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”
You felt yourself smiling back in response. So am I, your brain mused, but your consciousness refused to let anything move past your lips. Instead, Romanoff was picking up the conversation once again. “What’s your plans for after?”
Your eyebrows raised, suddenly surprised by her question. “Sorry?”
The redhead chuckled. “Once you graduate, sweetheart,” she said, voice sounding slightly amused. “What do you plan to do with the rest of your life?”
“Oh right,” you fumbled. You felt a little stupid for thinking she ever meant anything other than that. “My, uh…my mum wants me to go to law school actually…”
A red brow raised in your direction. “Oh yeah?”
You nodded, reminiscent of your previous chatter with your professor. A funny little coincidence that you two may be following a similar path. Although in that moment, you couldn’t help but be a little jealous. She had eventually fallen away from law, moving to a career she was truly passionate for. You were unsure if you’d ever get that opportunity. It had taken months just to convince your mother to let you major in English, claiming it was good for getting into law school after college. And after three years, you still hadn’t been able to convince her away from that same dream of hers, now unsure if you ever would.
“And what to do you want to do?”
“What?” Your professor’s words took you by surprise. When you looked up, it felt as if her eyes had seen straight through you, like she’d been able to hear your every thought.
“Your mother wants you to go to law school,” Professor Romanoff reiterated. “What do you want to do after you graduate?”
Your voice was unsteady in your response. “Go to law school?”
Professor Romanoff raised a brow as she angled her head. “Are you asking me?” All you could muster was a shrug, feeling suddenly very small in the large hall. You didn’t much like talking about what you wanted to do in your life, haven forgone the gesture years ago due to your mother’s constant coercion. But then your professor leaned in slightly, a small smile crossing her lips. “You can tell me the truth, sweetheart,” she said. “I’m very good at keeping secrets.”
The endearment fell on your already blushed cheeks. Most times you wouldn’t have said anything at all, hidden behind the lies your mother had constructed about your person, but something about the redhead’s smile almost drew the words directly from your mouth. “I guess if I could do anything, I’d be a writer,” you said, playing at the sleeves of your sweater.
“A writer?” Romanoff repeated, raising a pair of curious brows.
You felt yourself nodding as a small smile crept on to your lips. “Yeah. I love books and writing, and I guess it’s what I’ve wanted to do ever since I was a little girl.”
“Why don’t you do it then?”
Her words came as a shock, your system unsure of how exactly to respond. You shrank back under the redhead’s gaze, reminded of the words you’d been told so many times they were engraved into your mind. “It’ll be good for me to go to law school. My mum says I’ll get a better job.”
“Maybe…” Professor Romanoff hummed. Then her expression changed to something you couldn’t quite understand as she leaned in closer, her emerald eyes trained on your face. “But do you know what my birth mother used to say about me? She used to tell me I was useless little piece of shit that wouldn’t get anywhere in life.” Your eyebrows raised slightly in shock as you heard her words, especially on the fact she’d cursed so easily and how oddly good it sounded coming from her lips. Then her expression shifted again, an almost smugness taking over that drew your attention away from your own thoughts. “Thirty years later I’m a professor at one of the most prestigious universities in America. I’m married to a very successful lawyer, and living quite frankly an amazing life with a pair of adoptive parents who love me very much.”
Professor Romanoff finished with a small smirk, seemingly unaware of how her words settled on your shoulders. The entire statement was so weighted, so much shared about her as a person in so few words. Something in you felt slightly honoured that she could be that vulnerable around you, or perhaps her story wasn’t one she kept bundled up in her chest like you did, like a weighted lock on your heart. Still, you felt a sense of solace in learning more about your professor, a sense of trust being built in up inside. Her smiling eyes met yours as she leaned in even further on the desk. “Don’t let people who don’t know the real you keep you from what you want. We only get one life, Y/N. Don’t waste it trying to be someone you’re not.”
Her words settled in your stomach with an odd sensation. Her reassurance felt like another brick added to that wall of trust, perhaps her intention to try and learn more of your story. But maybe that trust wasn’t quite strong enough yet.
You shied away, unwilling to share more of your story despite how open Romanoff had seemed, years of criticisms sitting heavy on your shoulders. “Maybe,” you said lowly, picking up your pen once again. But you knew you’d never truly be able to follow through with what she was proposing you should, knew your future fate was already sealed by the woman who’d brought you into this world. She’d have a perfect daughter with her perfect career and wouldn’t settle for less, no matter how it made you feel. For now, all Professor Romanoff’s words could provide was a little fuel to that already dying fire of a dream inside your heart.
The pair of you quickly fell back into the steady silence of your work after your conversation, you pen dotting over papers as your professor turned back to her laptop. The radio played quietly in the background as you tried to push whatever words lingered in your head, both from your mother and the redhead in front of you, too many feeling provoked from the subject to allow you to focus properly. Dispelling them from your mind, you trained your eyes on the marking schemes in front of you, though having some of the answers memorised by now, and continued to work away at the stack of tests on the desk.
Time passed quickly once more, your speed increasing as the papers became more familiar in your hands, easily noticing the same mistakes made over and over. Occasionally you heard Romanoff begin to hum along to a song on the radio, focusing momentarily on her soft voice before refocusing on your work. In your mind, you became determined to finish them as quickly as you could, absentmindedly hoping to impress the woman they were for.
You were almost finished your task, down to the very last paper when a shrill sound cut through the soft atmosphere of the room. Both you and your professor’s heads shot up from your work, eyes turning to your backpack from where the loud ringtone emanated. Shit, you thought, obviously accidentally turning on the ringer that you always kept silenced.
“I’m sorry,” you said, glancing over at your professor in slight fear of her reprimand. But in return, you were only met with a soft smile.
“Don’t worry, milaya,” Romanoff replied gently. “This isn’t class time. You can answer your phone.”
Relieved by her answer, you let out a soft sigh. Reaching over, you began to dig through your bag to find your mobile, the nonsensical tune still ringing out. With no suprise, when you found it, Kate’s name and profile picture covered your screen. Quietly, you apologised again before accepting the call, slightly turning away in your chair as you held your phone to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Y/N!” Kate’s voice replied back from the other end of the device. She sounded slightly off but you couldn’t quite tell why.
“Are you okay? What’s up?”
A small sigh sounded in your ear. “Okay, please don’t get mad at me again but-“
You were replying with a sigh of your own before Kate could even finish her sentence. “You forgot your key again, didn’t you?”
“I’m so sorry,” the girl on the end of the other phone pleaded.
You sighed again, shaking your head. “Kate, how many times-“
“I know! I know,” she cut off. “I’m the worst person ever. But I slept in this morning and just forgot to put it in my bag. I’m sorry.”
Your sigh turned less frustrated. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” At your core you weren’t a confrontational person. You could never stay mad at anyone for long, especially Kate.
“Well, I came back to the room and you’re not here,” your best friend continued through the phone. “I thought you were finished english at three?”
“I am,” you replied. “But I’m helping out Professor Romanoff, remember? I’m in her class right now.”
You could hear Kate’s realisation through the call. “Shit. I am so sorry.” There was a pause. You could picture Kate dancing on the heels of her feet, the same way she did every time she needed to ask you a favour. “Uhm, could I possibly swing by and pick up your key then? Please Y/N, I really need to finish my computing assignment. It’s due at five.”
If there was anyone who would leave their work until one hour before the deadline, it was Kate. Another soft sigh escaped your lips. “Fine.”
Kate’s smile could practically be heard through the phone. “Thank you! What room are you in?”
“Language building, room ML4.”
“Okay,” Kate replied. “I’ll be right there. You’re the best, I love you.”
You couldn’t help but smile a little as you responded. “Love you too.”
With that, Kate hung up the call. You pulled your phone away from your ear, switching it off and throwing it in your pocket as you turned back in your chair. “I’m so sorry,” you began, facing back to your professor. “It’s my roommate, Kate. She’s locked herself out again.”
Romanoff raised a curious glance. “Again?”
“Bad habit.” You smiled back sheepishly, shrugging your shoulder. “She’s just going to stop by and pick up my key, if that’s alright?”
The redhead smiled back at you. “Of course. That’s perfectly fine.” A small sigh of relief escaped your lips, glad that the encounter wouldn’t be a problem. “But I think we’re actually almost done here,” Romanoff continued. “How are you getting on with those papers.”
“Oh, yeah,” you replied, pulling yourself back towards the desk and the stack of papers sat atop of it. “I’m actually just on the last one.”
“Well if you just finish that up, you can run along with your friend when she gets here.”
“You’re sure?” you replied, looking up. You didn’t want Kate’s endeavour to disrupt any of the help your professor needed. But the redhead simply nodded in response.
“I’m sure, Y/N.”
“Okay then,” you responded, nodding your head softly. A small smile was passed between the two of you before you were grabbing your pen once more, reaching out to finish marking the final test in the stack. Your hand moved quickly as you corrected any of the mistakes, flicking through the sheets of paper at an impressive rate. It was just as you were marking the last question that the noise of the hall doors opening drew your attention.
Clamouring in, Kate appeared inside the hall, her backpack momentarily getting caught on the handle before she was able to free herself. She stood sheepishly inside the room, looking across the way and spying you and your professor sat at the desk. “Uhm, hello,” the girl announced. You could tell she was trying to play it cool but she had that same almost awkward look she got whenever a girl she liked try to talk to her. “I’m, uh, Kate Bishop. Y/N’s roommate.” Her finger pointed to you, as if trying to prove she hadn’t barged in for no apparent reason.
Professor Romanoff had stood from her desk as Kate had entered, her hands finding a place resting inside her pockets. Now, she smiled across at her. “Yeah, she mentioned.”
Kate gave that awkward little laugh of hers and you had to refrain from not giggling at her yourself. “Sorry to just barge in on you guys. Are you still…” Her hands gestured towards you and the desk, trying to gage where you were with the work.
But Romanoff simply shook her head in response with a short smile. “No worries, Miss Bishop. We were just finishing up.”
Kate’s eyebrows raised. “Great,” she replied, sticking one of her thumbs up.
You had to stifle your laughs at her awkwardness. Was this how she interacted with all of her professors, or just the ones she didn’t know? As you hid your smile, you tidied up the stack of papers on the desk, piling them up neatly before rising to your feet. “Okay, Miss Romanoff,” you said, slightly pushing them in her direction. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do for you?”
The woman turned back to you with her gentle smile, her voice soft. “That’ll be all for today, Y/N.”
“Okay,” you replied, adjusting your jumper as you reached down for your backpack, throwing it over one shoulder. “Well, thank you again for this.”
Romanoff smiled. “No, thank you. I’d be drowning in work without your helpful hands.” A smirk seemed to form on her lips as she sent an emerald wink your way.
The action left you suddenly stuttering for the right words, embarrassingly affected by such a simple action. “Right,” you finally managed, voice jumbled. “I’ll uh- see you on Wednesday?”
Thankfully Professor Romanoff didn’t seem too bothered by your flustering state, if anything you might have said she even looked amused. “I’ll see you in class, Y/N,” she said, smiling down at you.
You returned the gesture as you turned away, walking to close the distance between where you and Kate stood. As you met the raven-haired girl’s side, a voice called out to the both of you. “Have a nice night, ladies.”
You turned briefly to Romanoff, smiling as you and Kate hummed a thanks in unison. As you passed through the doors to the hall and exited into the corridor, you felt your shoulders loosen ever so slightly, that perfect emerald stare still lingering in your mind. You couldn’t quite understand why you left that class always feeling so worked up.
This time, however, there was little space for you to think about it, as merely a few steps down the hallway, Kate was grabbing hold of your upper arm. “Holy shit, that’s your Russian professor?”
You turned quickly to your best friend, both startled and shocked by her sudden comment. “What? Yeah?”
Kate breathed out a laugh. “Y/N, you never told me she was hot as shit.”
“What?” you stuttered, taken about by Kate’s choice of words. “She’s not- I mean -I-I never noticed.”
The girls hand shook your arm slightly as the pair of you continued to walk. “Never noticed? Y/N, you must be blind because that was one of the most attractive women I’ve ever seen.”
The words come as a bit of shock, not expecting Kate to think so highly of the woman you’d been spending the last weeks of lessons with. The raven-haired girl began to mumble on about how she should have taken Russian and how it was unfair how she always got the old, ugly professors. But in all honeslty you weren’t paying her much mind, instead focusing on the words that had spilled from Kate’s mouth previously. Sure, Professor Romanoff was a nice-looking woman, you’d noticed that the first time she’d walked into the room, but that didn’t mean you should be attracted to her. That was wrong, she was your teacher, she was married for god’s sake. You shouldn’t be thinking about her in that way. You weren’t thinking about her in that way. Sure, she made you blush every time she spoke to you, and her stare made a strange warmth pool in your stomach, but that didn’t mean you found her attractive. Right?
———
Term continued on with its usual snowballing effect. The next couple of weeks began to fill up with more and more work as you progressed further into the year. You and Kate spent many of your time outside of lessons bundled up in the library, spending hours revising for your upcoming midterms. The pair of you were also beginning to write your final dissertations, the main project that would lead to your graduation at the end of the year. You'd had your topic picked for months and had already started your research over the Summer, which left you room to help Kate find something she could write about, having struggled finding a topic she didn't find extremely boring.
Your usual meal time chatter turned away from mindless gossip and instead to lesson content, both of you complaining about how many assignments you had due. The carefree start of term was officially gone and the usual endless list of deadlines had crept back up on you just like it always did. Luckily for you, you'd managed to maintain the rigidness towards studying you'd possessed since doing your exams in secondary school. You could maintain focus for hours, staring at your laptop or notes until everything was photocopied into your mind. Sure, it sometimes meant you'd miss a meal or a few hours of sleep, but it was all worth it for the perfect grade you were determined to achieve in the end.
Your sessions with Professor Romanoff continued on over the next couple of weeks too, still just an hour after your final class on a Monday. You'd offered her more help if she'd needed it but the redhead had politely refused, claiming she didn't want you wasting your time when you had exams to study for. In fact, she told you that she'd only require your help for a few more weeks, just up until the midterm, then you were free to go with that easy 'A' tucked into your pocket. Surprisingly, when you heard the news, you found yourself feeling slightly saddened. Over the time you'd spent with Professor Romanoff, you'd rather enjoyed yourself. It wasn't that the work was particularly exhilarating or you two ever did much other than look at papers, but the small moments you'd been able to find in between had been rather pleasant. Whether it was the soft lull of the radio music that you both would hum along to, or the small conversations she'd have with you about your home or your studies, the time you spent with the redhead somehow always left you with a warmth in the pit of your stomach.
One particular rainy Monday afternoon, the pair of you were comfortably sat at her desk in your usual positions, your chair across the way from hers. As she often did, Romanoff typed away on her laptop, while you sat stapling together test papers for her advanced Russian class, having previously just photocopied the stack. The paper was still warm against your skin as you organised them into the correct order, the feeling almost soothing you into a trance-like state. You hadn't even noticed it at all until it was suddenly shattered by a soft sound echoing through the room.
Your head picked up, readjusting itself to the real world before turning to the right where the sound emanated from. The sight that befell upon you caused your brows to raise ever so slightly in surprise. As the door to the lecture hall swung closed, a tall, unfamiliar, but smartly-dressed woman entered through them. Her heels clicked confidently across the floor, eyes trained on your professor who sat at the desk. You watched as the redhead stood when the woman reached her, smiling softly. "Detka, hi." Romanoff placed a small kiss on the woman's cheek as they hugged briefly.
"I tried to call but it went straight to voicemail," the other woman replied. She stood a few inches taller than Professor Romanoff, her hair a lighter shade of red straightened almost perfectly down her back. She wore a deep copper suit with a crisp white shirt, a designer handbag thrown over one shoulder. In all honesty, you couldn't tell if she'd came straight from work or a catwalk. When her body turned to stand side by side with your professor, you noticed her eyes shimmered down at you with a soft olive green. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise you would still have company."
At that, you noticed Professor Romanoff turn towards you, as if she had just remembered you were there. She smiled as she gestured to the taller woman. "Y/N, this is my wife, Wanda."
Right, wife. The idea she'd slipped a few weeks ago had almost left your mind entirely. Now that said woman was standing directly in front of you, looking down with an expression you couldn't quite read. "So you're the star pupil my wife has been telling me about, hm?"
Her voice was playful when she spoke, but at the same time low and almost sultry. Everything about it, including her words, left you stuttering over what to say. Had Professor Romanoff really been speaking about you to her wife?
"This is she," the redhead replied, covering for your inability to form a full sentence. She looked back at you with that same easy-going smile that seemed to make you shift in your seat.
Wanda passed you a similar expression as she inclined her head towards you, smirking just slightly. "Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you."
Thankfully, in that moment, your ability to speak seemed to return. "It's nice to meet you too, miss."
A small chuckle escaped the older woman's lips as you spoke. She glanced at Natasha, the pair sharing a look you couldn't interpret, before her sparkling eyes were back on you. "Oh please, honey. You can just call me Wanda." Just then you realised it wasn't only your professor's use of nicknames that seemed to send a shiver down your spine, Wanda's words setting your nerves on edge as you felt the heat flush to your cheeks. You looked down to your lap in an attempt to hide it, not wanting either woman to see your embarrassed state. From the corner of your eye, however, you saw Wanda wasn't going to let you hide that easily. She sat herself on the edge of the desk, leaning in closer to you and the stack of papers close by. "Working hard, are we?"
You looked back up to meet her eye, the action seemingly stripping away your speech once more. Thankfully, your professor stood up to answer for you. "Just getting some papers organised for my lesson tomorrow," she said, sitting herself down at her chair once more. Her eyes met her wife's. "Sorry, I didn't realise we'd run so late." Just then, you assumed why Wanda had shown up so unnanounced. Professor Romanoff had mentioned in passing that her wife would sometimes meet her after work, meaning that your sessions couldn't run any later even if she did need the extra help you offered.
"No, need to apologise," Wanda replied with an easy smile. "I don't mind sticking around while you guys finish up. Especially when your little assistant is so cute." Her eyes turned to you, a smirk playing on her lips. The entire action seemed to freeze you in place, entirely unsure of what to say or do.
"Cat gets her tongue sometimes."
Your eyes flicked to your professor as she spoke, a very similar smirk appearing on her face to match her wife sitting next to her. The taller redhead hummed lowly at her comment, her gaze tracing over you. Sat in that chair, you felt entirely too seen. Your eyes darted around, unsure of where exactly to look while the pair of older women watched you. If there was something you were supposed to say, you mind could not conjure it. In that moment all you could do was sit awkwardly as two pairs of green eyes traced your every movement.
But then, a familiar tune rang out to your rescue. When before you'd cursed your forgetfulness to turn off your ringer, now you silently thanked yourself. Your eyes rushed to your backpack, then quickly back to your professor and her wife. "I'm sorry," you stuttered out. "Could I?"
"Go on, milaya."
You tried your best to ignore your professor's comment as you reached into your backpack for your phone, quickly holding it up to your ear. To no surprise, it was a familiar voice singing a familiar tune. Still, you found the situation grateful for its diversion from the stalemate conversation you'd been stuck in beforehand. As you hung up the call a minute later, you turned back to the desk with a sheepish smile. "It's Kate, she's locked herself out again."
Professor Romanoff raised a perfect brow. "That really is a bad habit of hers, hm?"
You fought back a small chuckle at her words, surprised she even remembered you'd said that. "Yeah," you smiled back, then dropped it into a small frown. "I am so sorry-"
Before you could even finish your sentence, the redhead was holding up her hand to stop you. "Don't worry about it, milaya. You can run along. I'll catch you in class on Wednesday."
Your eyebrows raised, not wanting to be an inconvenience to her yet again. "You're sure? I can easily-"
"I said it's fine, Y/N," Romanoff reiterated, her voice coming out more stern. It wasn't quite angry, just firm, but it was enough to shut your mouth right up. You looked back, eyes wide, afraid that you'd annoyed her by leaving early twice due to your roommates negligence. But at your response, the redhead simply smiled down softly at you angling her head towards the door. "Go on. I can handle the rest."
You found your head nodding almost on its own accord, directed by not only your professor's watchful eye but now that of her wife's too. Your words came out little and few, a mumbled thank you and another apology spilling from your lips as you packed up your bag and threw it over your shoulders. One last reassurance and smile sent you walking out the door, headed back to your dorm where Kate would be waiting for you. As you went, you were hyper aware of the two sets of eyes trained on your back, picturing the two redheaded woman still sitting at the desk watching you walk away. What you weren't exactly aware of was how their gaze dropped even lower, both staring at the short black skirt you'd decided to wear that day, watching how the material grazed lightly against the back of your tight-covered thighs. When you exited out the door, you couldn't see the way the taller redhead turned back to her wife, looking down at her from where she still sat on the desk, a wide smirk appearing on her face as she bit into a perfectly painted lip. You couldn't see the way the pair looked at each other, leaning closer in, nor hear the words Wanda uttered back to her wife before their lips met in a kiss.
"You're right, she is cute. Let's keep her."
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sycamorelibrary754 · 23 days
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Happy Easter
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Summary: You are three weeks from your due date, but the thought of you and Natasha missing Easter at the Barton’s farmhouse in Iowa was simply inconceivable. What will you do if your little bundle of joy makes an early, unexpected entrance?
Genre: Fluff
Pairings: Natasha x reader, Avengers x reader (platonic).
Word Count: 5.7k
Warnings: None
A/N: Happy belated Easter! I wanted to post this fic on Easter, but there wasn't enough time. This is part 3 of Happy Thanksgiving and Merry Christmas! I recommend reading those stories first, but it can be read as a stand-alone story as well. This was so much fun to write. I hope you enjoy it! 
"Does anyone know where the purple egg dye is?" you inquired, scanning the table as you addressed the Barton kids. "I could have sworn we had two cups of every color." Cooper and Lila were fully engrossed in the Easter egg decorating contest, meticulously crafting their designs, while Nate seemed to relish in using every color available on the table. "Oh, it's on the counter.”
You were just about to rise from the kitchen table, no easy feat at this stage of your pregnancy. It felt like yesterday when you surprised Natasha with your pregnancy at Thanksgiving in front of her family and announced to the team that they would all be aunts and uncles at Tony’s annual Christmas party. Your due date was three weeks away, but missing Easter with Clint’s family in Iowa was out of the question.
“Don’t get up, Y/N. I got it!” Nat said as she jumped up to grab the paper cup of purple egg dye behind you.
"Thanks, sweetheart," you said as Nat placed the cup on the table.
"How are you feeling?" Natasha asked as she gently caressed your cheek. "Maybe you should take a break?”
“Nat, I promise I’m okay. Come sit back down and color some Easter eggs with us,” you replied, trying to put your wife at ease. 
Natasha was looking forward to Easter, too, but she was more focused on you and the final weeks of your pregnancy. Dr. Cho had given you the green light to go, with the condition that you'd have daily check-ins by phone and go on bed rest as soon as you returned home.
"Auntie Nat, look at this!" Nate proudly showed off an egg with Natasha's symbol on it.
"Look, Auntie Nat," you echoed with a smile.
"This is amazing! Maybe I should have you design my next suit instead of Stark," she said.
"Shall we start the judging?" Clint asked as he entered the room with Laura.
"Yep, all set," Cooper confirmed.
"Just a sec," Lila said, focused on decorating her egg. "There, done."
"Where are Yelena and Kate?" Laura asked.
"We're coming!" came a shout from the living room.
"It's not a Fabergé egg, you two, come on!" Nat yelled.
"Tada!" Kate exclaimed, revealing a beautiful purple egg with green and orange stripes.
You whispered to your wife, "So that's where all the purple dye went.”
You placed your egg on the table with all the others. Pink and blue with red polka dots. Symbolic of your current anticipation over the impending arrival of your bundle of joy. You and Nat both agreed you wanted to be surprised.
“Hmmm, this is going to be a tough decision,” Clint said, stroking his chin. “As you all know, you will be judged on creativity, technique, and presentation.”
Walking back and forth in front of the kitchen table, you couldn’t help but giggle at his mock seriousness. 
“Allow me to confer with my fellow judge,” he said. After a few moments of hushed whispers with Laura, Clint returned to the group. “We thank you all for your participation. You all decorated beautiful Easter eggs. The competition was tough this year, but one egg stands head and shoulders above the rest,” pausing for dramatic effect. “The 2024 Barton Easter Egg Decorating Champion is Nathaniel Barton!” 
You shouldn't have spent so much time on the sketches!” Yelena said, slapping Kate on the arm. 
“Yes!!” Nathaniel cheered. 
“You are hereby awarded this Lindt Milk Chocolate Gold Bunny,” his father said, handing him the gold-wrapped chocolate as big as his head.
“That you will share with the rest of the family and not eat in one sitting,” Laura added.
“Aww!” Nathaniel whined. 
*^~^*
You spent the evening on the porch, surrounded by the laughter of the kids playing on the lush green lawn as the sun set over the farm. Laura served her delicious homemade Lemonade as you shared stories and reminisced about old times. The air was filled with nostalgia so vivid that you could almost reach out and touch it. Natasha sat next to you, holding your hand gently, her calloused touch a reminder of the strength and resilience she had acquired through years of training.
You were taken by surprise as you felt the baby begin to kick.
"Wow!" You exclaimed as you gently placed your hand on your belly.
All eyes turned to you. Though unspoken, everyone shared the same nervous anticipation as your wife for the approaching due date.
"Are you alright, malyshka?" Nat asked, her eyes filled with concern as she squeezed your hand.
"I'm okay. The baby is kicking. Here, feel." You said as you took her hand and gently guided it to your stomach, trying to find the right spot. 
“Oh,” Nat squeaked. “I’ll never get used to that feeling.”
“Think how I feel!” you teased.
“Move aside, sestra; I want to feel my little plemyannitsa or plemyannik.” (Niece or nephew).
Yelena playfully bumped her sister out of the way with her hip and eagerly reached to touch your stomach.
"Wow, that's amazing!" she cried out. "Hey there, little one. I'm Aunt Yelena, and I will spoil you rotten!"
"Have you two settled on a name yet?" Kate inquired.
"No," you sighed. "We just can't seem to agree. Since we both want to be surprised, it's been twice as hard to come up with two names."
"Don't worry, you'll know when you see the little bundle of joy," Laura reassured.
"This wouldn't be an issue if either of you were open to any of the names I've suggested," Yelena added with a grin.
“Yelena is not an option,” Natasha frustratedly replied.
“What about—“ 
“Neither is Alaska! That isn’t even a name!” Your wife is exasperated.
“It could be!” Yelena said. “What about—“
“Or Wolfgang!” Nat interrupted.
“You lack all originality, sestra,” Yelena berated.
^*~*^
The soft glow of the table lamp reflected off your glasses as you delved into the pages of your latest beloved read. You placed your bookmark between the pages at the sound of your wife closing the bathroom door and crawling into bed beside you.
"Did you get a chance to talk to Helen today?" Nat asked as she helped me fluff up my pregnancy pillow.
"Yeah, I did. She was glad to hear that the swelling in my ankles went down and suggested taking a warm bath to help with the discomfort," you replied, shifting to get comfortable against the pillow.
"Mmm, a warm bath does sound amazing," Natasha hummed as she settled down on her side, facing me.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you’d be joining me?” You said softly, with a sly grin and a raised eyebrow.
“Of course I would, detka,” leaning over and kissing your baby bump. 
You gently squeezed Nat's hand, feeling a wave of anticipation as your due date drew near. Thoughts of what your baby would look like and who they would become filled your mind. Would they inherit Nat's fiery red hair, or perhaps have your Y/E/C eyes? The anticipation was almost overwhelming, but knowing that Natasha was by your side made it all feel possible.
"Are you looking forward to the Easter egg hunt tomorrow?" You asked, pulling yourself out of your daydream.
Nat giggled, "You make it sound like I'm the one participating."
"Well, you might as well be. I can never tell who's more excited, you or the kids," you replied.
Natasha glanced down at our intertwined hands and then back up at you. Her green eyes sparkled like emeralds.
"I think it's because holidays in my childhood weren’t real. We filled the photo album with fake pictures and empty boxes. But this," looking around at the small details of Clint and Laura’s farmhouse, "Is real, and I’ve always done my best to help ensure that Cooper, Lila, and Nate have everything I didn’t. A carefree childhood filled with love," Natasha explained.
"You’ve done a wonderful job with Clint’s kids, Nat. They love you so much, and I know you’ll be just as amazing with our little one," you said, doing your best to reassure her. “Goodnight, Natasha,” kissing her lips. 
“I hope you're right, detka,” Nat said, kissing your lips in return and laying a hand on your stomach. “Goodnight, malen'kiy (little one).
*^~^*
The following day, you awoke to the sun shining through the window and a soft breeze that caused the curtains to dance gently on the wind. Your back was aching, and you were tired, but you were determined to make it through today. You slipped into the most comfortable maternity outfit you had. Natasha helped you with your shoes, and you both went downstairs to the kitchen. 
“Happy Easter, you two!” Clint said upon seeing you two enter the kitchen. 
You sat down at the kitchen table as Laura placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of you and Nat, along with two glasses of orange juice. The kids were already eating and arguing over who would find the most Easter eggs this afternoon. 
Yelena and Kate walked in a few moments later, clad in bathrobes and their hair disheveled. 
“Against the idea of showering and dressing before breakfast, were you?” Natasha asked.
“Kate Bishop kept me up all night with her snoring, and Lucky and Fanny woke me up by sitting on my face,” Yelena mumbled as she flopped beside you. 
“Hey, that’s how dogs shows affection,” Kate interjected.
“So, I should consider your snoring a Valentine?” Yelena deadpanned. 
After breakfast, the kids ran upstairs to prepare for the Easter egg hunt while Clint got a head start on hiding the eggs. Nathaniel insisted Nat accompany him to help find his Easter basket, but she hesitated to leave you.
“Go ahead, babe. I’m fine.” Motioning for her to follow her namesake. 
“So, how are you really feeling?” Laura asked, now that Nat was no longer in the room. 
You let out a deep sigh, “Tired and sore,” resting your head in your hands. “But this quality time with you all means so much to both of us. I can make it one more day before going on bed rest.”
Laura rubbed her hand softly on your back, “Why don’t you sit in the family room with Kate and Yelena until the fun starts.” 
“Okay, that’s a good idea. Make sure Yelena and Kate haven’t snuck into the Easter candy,” you laughed. 
Laura helped you to your feet and then began to clear the table. As you started to walk, you felt a minor twinging pain in your stomach. You winced but thought nothing of it. With the amount of shifting the baby was doing these days, you had every spasm and cramp in the book. Unfortunately for you, you were in a house full of spies, and Laura picked up your discomfort. She made a mental note to watch you as the day progressed.
*^~^*
"Look, there's one!" Cooper exclaimed, pointing at the leather seat of the tractor in the front yard. He dashed towards it, but Lila beat him by a step. "Ha! Slowpoke," she teased.
From your spot on the porch, you glanced over and saw my wife hoisting Nathaniel onto her shoulders to carefully grab an Easter egg from the crook of an old sycamore tree. 
After about 15 minutes, everyone's baskets were full of eggs. Now came the fun of opening them all. You watched as all three kids dug into their baskets, opening the eggs to find mini Hershey bars, M&M's, jelly beans, or starbursts.
Nathaniel walked over to you and placed an Orange Starburst in your hand. "Here, Aunt Y/N. I know the Orange ones are your favorite."
"Aww, thank you, Nate," you said, kissing his forehead.
As you were about to open the soft toffy candy, a sharp contraction cut through my stomach. “Aaah!” you reached for your stomach as you bent over at the knees. Much stronger than anything you had felt before.
Natasha rushed to your side. “Y/N?! Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Reaching for your hand.
"I don’t know," you grunted.
Natasha's voice quivered with anxiety as she tried to rationalize the situation. "This—this can’t be it. We’re still three weeks out," she said, her mind racing with worry. "Maybe it’s just false labor."
That was the moment when your water broke. "Oh God—" you took a sharp breath as another contraction hit.
"Okay, not false labor," Nat conceded.
"It’s okay, Y/N," Laura reassured you calmly, gently taking your hand. "Most first births are a long labor. But we’re going to get you inside, okay?"
You felt a surge of panic. "What? No, no. I can't have the baby here. I'm not ready. We had a birth plan; I don't have my overnight bag!" you started to ramble, the anxiety rising in your voice.
"You're not boarding a Quinjet now. “I'm going to call Helen,” Clint said as he started to run inside.
"What's wrong with Aunt Y/N?” Nathaniel asked.
"Nothing, sweetheart, but the baby is coming a little bit earlier than we thought," Laura said calmly as she and your wife Nat gently guided you up the steps and into the warm and welcoming embrace of the house.
"Cooper and Lila, please grab a soft, warm blanket and clean towels from the linen closet?" Laura called out to the older children, her voice steady and reassuring.
I'l boil some water and tear up some sheets!" Kate announced frantically.
"This isn't Little House on the Prairie," Yelena quipped. She looked at you and Natasha with a warm yet nervous smile. "I’ll call Mom and Dad.”
"I thought you said this was a long process?" you managed to say between deep breaths, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.
"Yes, but there's nothing wrong with being prepared, honey," Laura replied with a comforting smile, her hands steady as she and Nat helped you onto the bed.
Natasha gently grasped your hand and locked eyes with you. "Y/N, look at me," she said reassuringly. “You’re okay, and I'm right here with you. Let's take a deep breath together.”
You took a deep breath, trying to follow Natahsa's lead. The air came out shakily as it moved around the sharp pain of the contraction.
"Do you remember your Lamaze breathing?" Nat asked, her voice calm and reassuring.
"I think so," you replied, trying to focus on the breathing technique you had practiced during the prenatal classes.
*^~^*
Contractions came and went over the next few hours. You were thankful that childbirth was part of the first aid classes all SHIELD recruits were required to take. Otherwise, the prospect of giving birth in a farmhouse in the middle of Iowa would have been more terrifying than it already was. 
You heard the front door open and the screen shut behind it as footsteps hurriedly approached the bedroom. When you saw Dr. Cho, you just about burst into tears. 
Helen! Oh, thank goodness," you exclaimed just as another contraction began, your face twisted in agony.
"Y/N," Helen responded, rushing to your side and gently pushing the sweaty strands of hair away from your eyes. "Clint and Laura briefed me. They said that you're handling this wonderfully. Let me take a moment to set up, and then we'll check your dilation progress.”
Okay," you managed to say, catching your breath. "Where's Bruce?"
He's in Kamar-Taj with Wong. Something about ten rings? I'm not entirely sure, but don't worry, both of you," she reassured, meeting your and Natasha’s fatigued and apprehensive gazes. "I have a backup.”
Thor strode into the room, effortlessly carrying a collection of Helen's equipment that seemed as light as a feather in his hands.
"Thor? What are you doing here?" Natasha asked, clearly puzzled.
Thor glanced at your wife, then at you, then at Laura, and then at Helen.
"Hello, everyone," he said shyly. "I was, uh, Helen and I—Dr. Cho. She invited me for Easter, and we were enjoying a nice glass of Asgardian Mead when—"
"When Clint called," Helen finished. "Anyway, he's here to help, right?"
"Of course," Thor replied. "I've never witnessed a human birth before, but I've been present for the births of many Gods and am well-versed in many newborn blessings."
You and Natasha locked eyes, your nervousness quickly replaced with gratitude as you realized the significance of having another close friend by your side during this pivotal moment in your lives.
Natasha expressed her gratitude to Thor, finally breaking the silence. "We're both thankful that you're here," she said, her voice filled with sincerity. 
You nodded in agreement, silently acknowledging the sentiment.
"It's my pleasure, ladies," Thor replied warmly.
“Thor, can you bring the rest of my equipment in from the Quinjet while I check to see how far Y/N is dilated?” Helen asked.
“Sure, and do either of you need anything? He asked.
Some ice chips would be great, you said in a tired voice. “Thank you.”
“Water,” Natasha said.
Shortly after Thor departed, Yelena entered, engaging in small talk as they crossed paths in the hallway. "What's the God of muscles doing here?" she inquired.
"It's a long story," Helen responded.
"I spoke with Melina. She and Alexi are en route and should arrive by morning. At least, I think that's what she said. It was hard to hear her over Alexi's ecstatic screams in the background."
"Okay, Y/N, you've done most of the hard work in my absence. You're just about at 10 centimeters. It’s time to start pushing. You two are going to parents soon," Helen announced with a smile.
“Oh my God,” you said, looking over at Natasha. 
“Hey,” your wife said, running her hand through your hair, “I love you.” 
“I love you too,” you said.
*^~^*
“Push. Push, just a little more! Come on, push for five seconds. 5…4…” Helen counted down.
Gasping for air, you exclaimed, '3-2-1 oh!!' as you fought to catch your breath.
Thor gently wiped away the sweat from your forehead with a cloth.
“You're doing great, Y/N. The next contraction should be coming in about twenty seconds," Helen encouraged, glancing at the monitor. 
“I can’t,” you cried. “I can’t push anymore, I can’t.”
Natasha reassured you, "Yes, you can, Y/N. You're so close," she reached out and firmly took hold of your hand.
“Oh God, twenty seconds, my ass!” You shouted.
Natasha screamed in pain and fell to her knees beside you as you squeezed her hand. “Fuck, detka!”
"Here, Lady Y/N," Thor said, taking her hand in his, "Give my hand a good squeeze; you won't hurt me. And when you reminisce on this moment, you will remember that a God has faith in you. You can do this!" Thor's voice was solid and reassuring, his eyes filled with genuine belief in your strength.
Your eyes shone with tears as you held Thor's hand tightly, feeling the strength in his grip while Natasha enveloped you, her arm supporting your back.
I can see the baby's head. Are you ready to push one more time, honey?” Helen asked, “Here we go, on three: 1... 2... 3!”
You let out a final scream and then collapsed back onto the pillows, trying to catch your breath. As the room fell silent, the innocent cries of your and Natasha’s baby filled the air.
"It's a boy!" Helen exclaimed with joy.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at Natasha, who was also crying. It was more emotion than you had ever seen Natasha show before.
Helen held up your son for both of you to admire. His little head was adorned with the beginnings of red hair. 
"He's absolutely perfect," Nat exclaimed with a radiant smile as she affectionately kissed your temple.
Thor carefully cut the umbilical cord, and then Helen gently passed the newborn over to Laura, who began to clean him up. 
Overwhelmed with emotion, you exclaimed, "He's so tiny! Where'd he go?"
Natasha reassured you, "It's okay. They're just wrapping him up," as she wiped away her tears. Concerned for the baby's well-being, you cautioned, "Okay, well, be careful with him. He's really tiny!”
Moments later, Laura tenderly announced, "Here he is," and placed your precious son on your bare chest, swathed in a soft blanket.
"Hi, baby boy," you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I know you."
As your voice reached his ears, his little Y/E/C irises opened, revealing a world of innocence and wonder.
At that moment, gazing at your son, you experienced a love so profound it felt as though your heart had been laid bare.
Natasha tenderly kissed his head and softly murmured, “Dobro pozhalovat' v mir, moy malen'kiy mal'chik.” (Welcome to the world, my little boy).
We’ll give you a few minutes," Helen said with a reassuring smile as she closed the door behind her. In the serene stillness that followed, the only sound was the gentle cooing of your precious newborn son.
“I can't believe he's finally here,” you said.
"I know. He’s so beautiful," Natasha said, her gaze fixed on the newborn.
"It looks like he’s going to take after his Mama," you chuckled, running your hand over the delicate red hairs sprouting from his scalp.
"Yes, but look at his eyes—sparkling Y/E/C like yours. Wow," Nat said.
You remarked, "I guess this narrows the names down, then."
Nat sighed in relief, "Thank goodness I don't have to explain to my sister why we didn't choose Yelena."
Looking into your wife's eyes, you asked, "So what do you think?"
*^~^*
A short while later, a gentle knock on the door signaled Helen's arrival as she peeked inside. "Hey, you three. I need to conduct a few routine tests, and there are some eager people outside who can't wait to meet your son."
"Please, come on in, everyone," you welcomed them.
You couldn't hold back the tears as you witnessed the heartfelt expressions on their faces as they laid eyes on your baby boy. It was as if he instantly captivated them, just as you were when you first saw him.
"Oh, my goodness," Laura exclaimed as Clint enveloped Natasha tightly. Tears glistened in his eyes as he held his best friend close.
"He's beautiful, Natasha," Yelena said, her eyes brimming with tears. "Privet, malen'kiy plemyannik," she whispered (hello, my little nephew).
"He's so cute, Y/N! Oh my gosh," Kate exclaimed as your son wrapped his tiny hand around your finger.
"He is lovely," Thor added, his voice filled with warmth. "Strong and brave, like his mothers."
Cooper, Lila, and Nathaniel gathered around you, admiring the newborn in your arms.
"Everyone," Natasha began, her hand resting lovingly on your back. "We have someone special we'd like you to meet.”
“This is Nikolai Odison Romanoff," you announced with a proud smile.
"Nikolai! What a beautiful first name," Clint exclaimed, wiping his eyes. "It suits him perfectly."
"Oh, my, Odison," Thor said wide-eyed. "Ladies, this is an honor fit for someone else. I wasn't even supposed to be here, I—" 
"But you were, Thor. You were here when I needed someone the most," you said, looking at him with gratitude. "We'll never forget what you did for us."
The God of Thunder exhaled, visibly touched by your kind words. "I'm truly honored, Y/N. Thank you," he said, kissing your cheek.
Excuse me, ladies," Helen said, "May I borrow him for a moment? We'll be right back.”
Nikolai began to cry at the loss of contact with you, and the sound tugged at both your and Natasha's heartstrings. "It's okay, little one. It's okay," Helen soothed him. 
Then, looking up at your wife, you added, "There is something else we wanted to ask. 
“Clint and Laura, we would be honored if you would be Nikolai’s godparents,” Natasha said.
“Of course!” Clint declared.
“Nothing would make us happier,” Laura added.”
The couple hugged you both in appreciation as Helen returned with Nikolai. 
“You have a healthy little boy on your hands! Born March 31st, 2024 at 7:23pm. He weighs five pounds and eight ounces and measures 16.5 inches long," she said as she gently placed your son in Natasha’s arms. "He's a bit small, but that is because he was impatient and arrived a bit early," Helen explained with a warm smile. "Nothing to worry about.”
Natasha cradled the baby in her arms, swaying gently back and forth as a soft yawn slipped from his tiny lips.
“We’ll spend the night here, but I want to bring Mom and Nikolai back to the compound tomorrow. I want to perform a thorough examination in my lab before sending you all home.” Helen explained.
"Of course, whatever you think is best," you agreed.
Natasha nodded in approval before a sudden realization struck her. "Oh, Mom and Dad! They're on their way here."
"They can join us if you'd like," Helen suggested.
"That would be great," you said. "Right, Nat?"
"Yeah, great," Natasha said, her mind racing as she tried to imagine the chaos of the Quinjet flight home with Alexi and Melina.
Yelena couldn't help but burst into laughter, fully aware of what her sister was thinking, until Kate elbowed her in the ribs.
"We'll leave you all to get some rest," Helen said. "I'll be outside if you need anything, and I'll be back in a little while to help you with breastfeeding him.”
"Thank you, Helen, and all of you, for everything," you said, feeling the exhaustion and emotions of the day overwhelming you as tears began to fall.
After exchanging warm embraces, everyone exited the room, leaving you and Natasha in peaceful solitude with your precious newborn son, savoring the tender moment.
Natasha gently settled Nikolai in Nathaniel's bassinet, a family heirloom lovingly retrieved from storage by Clint and Laura. As your little one drifted into a peaceful slumber, you both couldn't help but marvel at the miracle of life, watching his tiny chest rise and fall with each breath. It was a moment you never wanted to forget.
“Rest, detka. I'll take care of Nikolai," Nat offered, her voice filled with warmth and reassurance.
"I can stay up; it's fine. You should rest," you insisted, determined to take responsibility.
"Y/N, you've just brought new life into the world. You deserve to rest for the rest of your life," Nat chuckled, her eyes filled with affection and concern.
She settled beside you on the bed and enveloped you in a comforting embrace.
"Look at your face," Nat suddenly remarked, her expression softening with genuine admiration.
"I must look a mess," you replied, a tired smile tugging at your lips.
"No, Y/N, you look absolutely beautiful," Nat insisted, her words filled with sincerity. "I've never seen your face more radiant than it is right now.
Natasha's soft lips met yours in a tender kiss, and in that moment, you felt the truth of her words resonate deep within you.
*^~^*
The following day, Laura prepared a delicious breakfast and brought it to you and Natasha in bed. Both of you had barely gotten any sleep with Nikolai waking up every couple of hours. Despite feeling utterly exhausted, you didn't mind one bit. This weariness stemmed from the joy of caring for your precious newborn son on his very first night.
Twenty minutes later, the tranquil moment was interrupted by familiar voices outside. Natasha gently pulled the curtain back to glimpse her parents making their way up the front porch steps.
Yelena strode into the room with her arms folded and a mischievous smile on her lips. "Brace yourselves," she teased, "The grandparents have arrived.”
"Where's my little guy?" Alexi eagerly shouted as he entered the room.
"Shh!" Natasha hushed him with a grin, motioning to Nikolai nestled in her arms. "Oh, look at him!" Alexi whispered in awe. 
"Mom, Dad, this is Nikolai,” Nat said, wiping a tear from her eye.
"He's beautiful, Natalia," Melina murmured.
"May I hold him?" Alexi asked eagerly.
"Of course," you replied, carefully passing the baby to Alexi. The sight of the mighty Red Guardian tenderly cradling your newborn son made you smile.
"Hello, Nikolai. I'm your dedushka," Alexi said affectionately. "You're so adorable; yes, you are."
As he spoke, Nikolai slowly opened his eyes, and you could have sworn you saw your father-in-law's heart swell with love. 
Alexi gently placed the baby in Melina’s arms. Your mother-in-law had always been a complex and enigmatic figure. She was one of the longest-tenured widows, and her resilience made her one of the strongest women in your eyes. As she cradled your newborn son in her arms, a single tear traced its way down her cheek, revealing a depth of emotion and vulnerability that you had never seen before.
Yelena inched toward you and whispered, “He won them over faster than you did.” 
*^~^*
The next morning, Thor joined in to assist with packing while Clint hurried to the store to purchase an infant car seat for Nikolai. You were a family of two when you arrived, and you were leaving a family of three.
After a swift diaper change, Natasha placed your precious bundle of joy in his carrier. "Time to head home, Nik," you said, taking his tiny hand in yours. 
You bid farewell to everyone and securely placed Nikolai's carrier beside you on the Quinjet.
Nat smiled as she prepared the Quinjet for takeoff. Your first Quinjet ride," she said. "You're already an overachiever, moy sladkiy mal'chik" (my sweet little boy).
Your phone suddenly vibrates with a flurry of notifications.
"The team group chat is blowing up, sweetheart," you informed Natasha, showing her your phone.
Nick Fury: Congratulations on the arrival of your precious son, Nikolai! It's heartwarming to see the Avengers family welcoming the newest member. Everyone at SHIELD looks forward to meeting him and supporting you and Natasha.
Steve Rogers: Hey, Y/N and Nat, huge congratulations! I'm so excited to meet Nikolai, the newest addition to our Avenger family. 🎖️
Wanda Maximoff: Congratulations to you both! All those cliches, those things you hear about having a baby and motherhood—all of them are true. And all of them are the most beautiful things you will ever experience. I’ll drop off some food for you both in the morning. 🥰
Clint Barton: Hey, Y/N! Make sure Nikolai is securely fastened in his infant carrier. I hope he sleeps the whole way back. If he gets fussy, let Nat know to ask FRIDAY to turn on the cabin pressure stabilization. It's a feature I insisted Stark add to the Quinjet after SHIELD found out I had kids. You're welcome. 😏
Laura Barton: I know things didn't go as planned, but I'm grateful we could share in your special day, Y/N. Nikolai is absolutely beautiful! Please let Nat know that I'll give her a call tomorrow. 😊
Tony Stark: Rushman! Y/L/N! Congratulations on the arrival of your precious son. Nikolai will bring you endless joy and fulfillment and become your favorite reason to lose sleep for the rest of your lives. 😉
Pepper Stark: Congratulations! I'm so happy for you and Nat. I can only imagine how incredible it must feel to look into Nikolai's eyes and feel like everything is right in the world. Please don't hesitate to reach out if there's anything I can do to help. Sending lots of love! ❤️
Bruce Banner: I'm truly sorry I couldn't be there; I’m thrilled for you and Natasha. I can't wait to meet Nikolai! 💚
Maria Hill: Congratulations, Y/N and Nat, on the arrival of baby Nikolai Odison! I can't wait to meet the little bundle of joy and see those tiny fingers and toes. The name Nikolai Odison Romanoff is absolutely beautiful. I spoke with Thor this morning, and the honor deeply moved him. 🥹
Thor Odinson: I am incredibly grateful to have been present for the birth of your son, Nikolai Odison Romanoff. Your decision to include me in this momentous occasion is a great honor, and I want to assure you that I will always be there to support and care for all of you. The arrival of Nikolai is a joyous event, and I am committed to being a steadfast presence in his life. ⚡
Peter Parker: Y/N! Congratulations on the arrival of Nikolai! I'm so thrilled for you and Nat. What does he look like? Does he have your hair or Natasha’s? What color are his eyes? I'm already thinking about all the adventures we'll have with him. I'm going to text Nat right now. I can't wait to meet him! 💙
Yelena Belova: Give my little nephew a kiss and hug from me. Also, heads up - Mom and Dad are considering staying with you for eight weeks to help care for Nikolai. Happy Parenting! 😂
Kate Bishop: Yelena is sitting next to me, and she can't stop laughing, so I'm going to assume that everything is going well. Please give Nikolai a kiss and hug from me! 🩵
*^~^*
You and Natasha stood together at the front of the Quinjet, the hum of the engines surrounding you as the aircraft soared safely through the sky. 
“Nikolai is sound asleep. I don't think your parents have taken their eyes off our son since they got here,” turning around to see Melina and Alexi lovingly admiring their grandson. 
Nat lovingly reached for your hand. “Our son,” she repeated with a big smile.
Nat took her place in the pilot's seat and turned off the autopilot as you settled in beside her.
"Come on, Y/N. Let’s go home.”
448 notes · View notes
its-really-dry · 1 year
Text
y/n: *sitting in natasha's lap with their face in her boobs*
tony: *walks in* uhhhhh......... what's going on?
clint: nothing really. y/n just lost energy *continues to read his magazine*
tony: that still doesn't explain the whole *points at nat and y/n*
wanda: oh! think of it as a charging port, but for lesbians
kate: *is sad* i wish i was a lesbian *pouts*
yelena: you are. dumb suka
kate: then where are my booby-chargers?
y/n: *gets off natasha and holds their arms out to kate*
kate: *gets giggly and runs over to y/n*
tony: im not even going to entertain that with a follow up question
5K notes · View notes
natsarrownecklacx · 10 months
Text
Birthday Gift
Y/n: “I really want a girlfriend so I can dress up all nice for her and spoil her for her birthday.”
Yelena: “Like put on a nice dress and take her out for dinner?”
Y/n: “Well, yes. But also dress up in a maid or bunny outfit for her, at home, just to make it special, you know?”
Wanda: *Popping up from no where.* “ME!! ME!! YOU CAN DO THAT FOR ME!!”
Wanda: *Clears throat* “It’s eh- my birthday soon y/n you can- we can do that together. You know, only if you want to.”
Y/n: *Blushing.* “Sure, Wands. I can dress up all nice for you. Consider it part of your birthday gift.”
Wanda: *Beaming* “Okay, good good. Sounds good.”
Yelena: *Talking to Kate.* “Isn’t her birthday in five months?”
Kate: “Hush, Lena. They’ve been pining over each other for ages. This is progress!”
1K notes · View notes
trikruismybitch · 2 years
Text
*Kate and Y/n arguing about y/n not wanting to ask somebody out bc wanda*
Wanda (annoyed/ frustrated) : Oh my god, how many times do i have to say it? I dont care who you date, we broke up! *she waves her arm around* Ask out any girl you want.
Kate: See! I said you should have asked out Natasha!
Wanda *red eyes*: NATASHA?!
Y/n *placatingly*: Wanda....
Wanda: I KNEW IT!
Wanda: I KNEW! two years ago when you went on that stupid mission with her!
*Kate slowly backing away & removing herself*
Wandai: and Natasha was always like "Oh Y/n why don't you come and train with me"
Wanda: "Oh y/n i bought some coffee"
Y/n: Natasha brings everyone coffee!
1K notes · View notes
ashdreams2023 · 4 months
Note
Ok, awesome! Thank you!
Can I please send in a request for Kate Bishop where her sibling is autistic, and Kate is protective of them?
Ok finally got to you honey, sorry this took forever
Kate bishop x autistic sibling
Kate always knew you were different, you weren’t like any other kids but didn’t understand what made you so different until later on
For a long time you were just her special little sibling
She got used to you need your food cut a certain way, and that you extremely dislike certain textures
When she would go to the store she would always buy you your favorite Candy because she knows this little thing will make your day
She was the first one to buy you sound canceling headphones and takes you on walks outside
Sometimes she gets bored when you hyper fixate on a certain piece of media but as long as it’s harmless it’s fine
"Can we watch anything other than shrek this time?" "No!"
She let’s you help in the kitchen if it’s nothing too complicated or sharp things are involved
Learned as you both grew older that you don’t like your hair being touched by strangers so that either means she cuts it for you or tries to teach some basic things to keep it looking ok
She takes you to your favorite restaurant at least once a month
Gets anxious when she has to leave the city and leave you on your own
"Your things are all in the same place, plus there’s my phone number you know how to reach me if something is wrong, also Clint will drop by to check on every night"
The days you’re feeling none verbal are some of the hardest for her because she can’t always tell what’s wrong
"Is there something specific you’ll like? Just nod if yes"
She always makes sure to be back for lunch in the exact same time because she knows you don’t like when she’s late and it messes with the schedule you’re used too
"Wanna see this cool trick I learned from Clint?"
"I didn’t find your favorite color but this one has that one character you’ve been obsessed with for three weeks"
Will physically fight people if they made you uncomfortable or were rude to you just because they think they can
"Want to repeat that again to my face fucker!"
57 notes · View notes
upat4amwiththemoon · 1 year
Text
Protector | part 2
Summary: Be the person you needed as a kid.
Pairing: big sister!Yelena Belova x female!reader, big sister!Natasha Romanoff x teen!female
Warnings: violence, angst, death of a character
Word count: 7746
a/n: The timeline here is obviously different compared to the real MCU, this fic starts after Black Widow and there’s more time between Black Widow and Infinity War. Ideas come from these two asks. I do realize this is similar to Two sides but that’s okay :) read the first part before this!
Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore
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Natasha will take great care of you.” Yelena reassures as she drives towards the compound. She wasn’t the happiest to leave Y/N behind, but this mission was something she didn’t want her to be part of.
“I don’t need a babysitter, Yelena! I’m 15 and I know very well how to take care of myself.” Y/N looks out the window, pouting she has to be away from Yelena for such a long time. “I’ve done it for my whole life.”
“See, that��s not something we’re going to normalize. Family takes care of each other.”
The word family still makes Y/N feel weird. She isn’t sure how she’s supposed to feel hearing it. She does have some sort of family now, so she should be happy, but at the same time it makes her feel bad. Caring about people always ends badly. No matter what. You can’t win.
Y/N sighs, she knows Yelena won’t change her mind. “Will there be other people.”
“I think so.” Yelena mumbles. That’s also something she wasn’t very excited about. Leaving Y/N with Natasha is okay, but with other unknown people as well is a whole new story. Yelena doesn’t know the Avengers and she doesn’t know how Y/N will be with them. “Nat lives at the compound and I think they fixed things, so no one is a fugitive anymore.”
Y/N hums. “I get to be part of the next mission, yes?”
“Yes, I will keep my promise don’t worry.” She glances at Y/N with a grin. “It’ll be the best mission ever.”
Y/N giggles quietly. “You know every mission we do turns to shit.”
“Hey, language.” Yelena glares at her, while Y/N rolls her eyes. Sometimes Yelena takes the motherly big sister role a bit too seriously. “The next one will be good, I can feel it.”
“I will bet you ten dollars something goes wrong.”
“Deal.” Yelena and Y/N shake their hands at a red light, both having a smile on their face.
“You’ll keep her safe?” Yelena has been standing on the compound’s front door for fifteen minutes already, going over everything Natasha should know about Y/N and making sure she’ll be good.
“I will, Yelena.” Natasha smiles lightly, starting to get annoyed by her sister. She’s holding Y/N’s bag on one hand while the other lays on the younger one’s shoulder. “Nothing bad will happen to her.”
“Good, because if something bad does happen, I will kill you.”
“I know.” Natasha chuckles.
Yelena grumbles at Natasha not taking her threat seriously, so she just turns to Y/N and gives her a tight hug. “I won’t be gone for too long and you can contact me whenever you want to, okay?”
“Okay.” Y/N mumbles to Yelena’s shoulder. She is pressing her head against her, not wanting the involuntary tears to fall. “Be safe.”
“I will.” Yelena kisses her head and backs away from the hug. “Have fun with Natasha!” She starts walking away to her car, waving at the two until the door closes.
Y/N lets out a shaky breath as Natasha starts leading her towards a guest bedroom that’s next to Natasha’s own. “You’ll be sleeping here, is that okay?” Natasha sets Y/N’s bag to the bed.
“Yes, thank you.” Natasha keeps standing around the room quietly while Y/N carefully sits down to the bed. “You don’t have to hover. I know I’m not your sister like Yelena is. Besides, Lena hovers over me more than a family of five combined.” She scoffs with a small smile. She doesn’t hate Yelena’s hovering. It actually makes her feel cared for and safe, but sometimes she takes it too far. Like right now, Y/N would’ve been perfectly capable to go on the mission.
“I’m not doing this just because Yelena asked me to, I genuinely like you and think of you as part of the family.” Natasha sits down next to Y/N. She has a small smile on her face.
“Oh.”
Natasha hums, looking at Y/N’s hands that keep moving. “There won’t be a lot of people around. Wanda is away with Vision, she really wanted to meet you though. And the rest of them are kind of all around.”
“That’s okay. I prefer being around fewer people anyway.”
“So do I.” Natasha stands up, swiping invisible dust off of her hands. “You should rest. You can meet the people who still are here tomorrow. That sound good?”
“Yeah. Thank you, Natasha.”
“Of course.” Natasha gives her a smile before leaving Y/N alone in the room.
Slowly opening her eyes, Y/N looks around the room. The unfamiliarity of it makes her panic momentarily, but she regains her sense of surrounding quickly. The Avengers Compound. She is supposed to be here. She is safe.
Y/N moves the covers aside to stand up. She crosses her arms around her waist, holding herself tightly. She stands in front of the bedroom door, too nervous to actually leave.
At least fifteen minutes pass by. Y/N keeps staring at the door. She isn’t sure which rooms she’s allowed to go, or where the different rooms even are.
Biting her lip, Y/N takes hold of the handle and opens the door. She steps outside. The corridor is almost fully white and full of doors, probably to other bedrooms. She picks a direction and starts walking, her eyes going through everything, especially corners. Old habits die hard.
After a few turns, she starts to hear talking, so she walks towards it. Glancing around a corner, she sees Natasha and an unknown man talking together. With a deep breath, she makes herself known to the pair by walking in.
Natasha turns her way first. “Good morning.”
“Hi.”
The man turns to look at her as well. “Y/N, this is Steve Rogers, the Captain America. Steve, this is Y/N, she was in the Red Room.” She doesn’t mention Yelena or being sisters, Y/N isn’t even sure if Steve knows about it all.
“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” Steve walks over to her and puts his hand out.
Y/N stares at him. He’s big and looks strong, but Y/N thinks she could take him down if necessary. “Yeah, you too.” She mumbles, shaking his hand for a very short amount.
“I made breakfast.” Natasha shows a plate of waffles.
“She didn’t actually make them, they’re from the freezer.” Steve fake whispers so Natasha could clearly hear him.
She rolls her eyes, setting two plates down to the table. “Don’t you have a run to go to?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Steve holds up his hands in mock surrender, a smile on his face. “I’m going. Have fun you two.” He walks away.
Natasha gestures towards a chair opposite of her. Y/N walks over to it, sitting down. She stares at the plate full of waffles. There are so much it could feed her and Yelena.
“I wasn’t sure how hungry you are. No need to eat it all.” Natasha smiles quiet sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. “There’s berries and syrup, take whatever you want. Do you want orange juice? Or apple? We also have water, of course.”
Y/N looks at Natasha. She seems nervous, which is different. She didn’t think someone like Natasha Romanoff could get nervous. “Orange.”
“Got it.” Opening the fridge, Natasha pours orange juice to Y/N’s and her own glass, leaving the jug to the table afterwards. She sits down to her own chair. “I hope you like waffles. I didn’t think to ask yesterday what you’d like for breakfast.”
“I like them.”
“Good.”
They start eating in silence. Y/N takes small pieces at a time, keeping her eyes on the food, while Natasha keeps glancing at her direction. She analyses her face every time, looking for any sign of uncomfortableness or dislike, but she doesn’t see any. Although, Natasha isn’t surprised, Widows are good at keeping their emotions in check.
“You and Yelena have been freeing the other Widows?”
“Yes.”
“It’s going well?”
“Mhm.” Y/N nods, chewing on her food.
Natasha taps the fork with her finger. She isn’t sure how to keep the conversation going with the teenager, or how to overall get more than one word answers.
“What will you do after all the Widows have been freed?”
Y/N shrugs, moving pieces of the waffle around with her fork. “I don’t know. I don’t really know what I’m good at besides killing.”
“That’s what I thought too, but I figured it out. So will you.” Natasha offers her a gentle smile.
“Don’t you still do it?”
“Huh?”
“Killing. Don’t you still kill people? You’re just on the other side now.” Y/N stares at Natasha who struggles to provide an answer. “You would’ve been killed if you weren’t recruited to Shield, yes? So I either have to become an Avenger or a mercenary. And I’m not becoming an Avenger, so I’ll be a paid killer until someone kills me.”
“Well- no.” Natasha looks at Y/N, who has very monotone look on her face. She doesn’t understand how Yelena makes it look so easy. She interacts with Y/N with ease and makes her feel better with just few words.
“It’s okay. I’m just trying to be realistic.”
“Right.” Natasha pushes the empty plate to the side. “Listen, I’m not good at this.” She gestures between the two of them. “Teenagers aren’t my forte, and you aren’t even a normal teenager. Yelena somehow makes it look so easy.” She chuckles. “But I really do want to get close to you, okay?”
Y/N nods, she looks down to hide a small smile. “It’s not easy.”
“Hm?”
“With Yelena.” Y/N turns to look at Natasha. “It’s not easy with her. We fight a lot and disagree on many things. We’re somehow exactly the same and complete opposites, so everything is just a…shit show.”
“Language.” Natasha mumbles with a smirk. Y/N scoffs, smiling at herself. “Yelena can be headstrong and idiotic at times, but she is great.”
“She is.” Y/N frowns. “I don’t think I could do anything without her. She’s the reason I’m sane.”
Standing up, Natasha walks over to Y/N’s side and hugs her. “I know she couldn’t be without you either. And you’ll see her soon. Until then,” Natasha pushes her to arms length, holding onto her shoulders, “we’ll have fun, okay?”
“Okay.” Y/N giggles
“I told you I’d take you to the next mission.” Yelena whispers as she, Y/N and Sonya, a third Widow sneak around the huge house. Y/N only shushes her, making Yelena shush her back in annoyance.
They all freeze when the target, Ana, another Widow, steps in front of them. Yelena and her start fighting, while Y/N fishes out a vial of the antidote. “Yelena!” She shouts, throwing the vial towards her.
Yelena grabs it and releases it in front of the woman’s face. “The next bit is going to be really scary, but we are here to help you.”
The woman scrambles up from under Yelena. She stares at the big red spot on her carpet. “Look what you did to my rug. 20 000 dollars down the drain, thanks.” Y/N frowns, she sure didn’t think that’d be the first thing on her mind after being freed from mind control.
“Excuse me?” Yelena looks just as confused.
“I don’t think she was brainwashed.” Sonya chimes in.
“What, you thought I was some rich pervert’s prisoner?” She stares at all three of them.
“Well, yeah, kind of.”
“Wait, this is your house? How can you afford all of this?”
“By doing the thing we’re all best at. Killing for money.”
Y/N sighs at the sentence. No matter how hard she tries to get away from it, everything just keeps reminding her of the purpose she was made to do. Kill people.
The four of them go to sit in the living room and talk in a more civilized manner. Y/N keeps mostly to herself while the three adults talk about the freed Widows.
“Yelena, how is your other sister doing?”
“She’s doing okay.” Yelena smiles lightly.
“Good.”
“Yeah, she’s good.”
“And then, you and Natasha will be reunited and go live your Sex and the City fantasy in New York.” Sonya giggles, missing the solemn look on Y/N’s face. She and Yelena always did want to go to New York, but it doesn’t look like she’s involved in the plan.
Yelena hums. “Excuse me.” She stands up and walks away from the trio.
Y/N sighs, sinking to the chair. She looks around the apartment. It would be very luxurious to live in a place like this, but she doesn’t want to kill people anymore. There has to be something else she’s good at.
Ana turns on the television to pass time. The sound of it is all smushed to Y/N as she thinks about her future. “I’m gonna go see what’s taking Yelena so long.” She mumbles, standing up and walking towards the bathroom Yelena went into. She knocks on the door and waits. Nothing. “Yelena?” Knocking again, louder than before, she starts to feel worry bubble in her stomach. “I’m coming in.”
Y/N opens the door, but the room is empty. With a frown, she starts looking inside the rooms close by. They’re all empty. Starting to get panicky, Y/N goes back to the living room.
“I can’t find Yelena.”
“Y/N.” Sonya has a horrified look on her face as she turns to look at her, but Y/N pays no mind.
“Are there any other rooms she could’ve went into in this giant house of yours?” Ana’s face is glued to the television. “Hello?”
“Y/N.” Sonya grabs her arm.
“What?”
Sonya turns her towards the television. “Listen.”
The News channel is on. It’s showing chaos all over the city. Cars crashing into each other, a helicopter falling down, people disappearing. “It seems like people are randomly turning into dust and disappearing. No one knows why this is happening or where the people are going. We’ll conti-“
The news anchor continues to talk, but Y/N doesn’t hear it anymore. People are disappearing. “No.” She mumbles, shaking her head. “She didn’t turn into dust, she’s here somewhere.”
“Y/N…” Sonya sets her hand on Y/N’s shoulder, but she brushes it away instantly.
“No!” Her breathing picks up as she continues to shake her head. “No. This is some cruel joke. This isn’t real. Yelena!” She shouts, starting to walk towards a hallway, but Sonya stops here.
“She isn’t here.”
“No!” She tries to pull away, but Sonya wraps her arms around Y/N. “Let go of me!” She starts wriggling around, but the older Widow doesn’t let go.
“Let it out. Let it out.”
“Stop it! She can’t be gone.” Y/N sobs, slowly losing her fight. “She can’t be gone.” She drops to her knees, crying, while Sonya continues holding her.
The phones have been ringing for a half an hour already, but Y/N has no energy to pick it up. She just stares at Yelena’s bed. It’s empty. It shouldn’t be empty. Her eyes have already dried, she doesn’t think she could physically cry anymore.
Yelena’s phone rings. She didn’t have it with her on the mission. She doesn’t dare to pick it up. Yelena always said: ”Keep your hands off of it! You have your own phone.”. The phone stops ringing.
After a minute, Y/N’s own phone starts ringing. Finally she answers it. “What?” Her voice cracks from all the crying and screaming she did earlier. She doesn’t even remember how she got to the house, all she knows she was sobbing her heart out.
“Why the hell haven’t you and Yelena been answering your phones?” Natasha’s loud and angry voice comes through the speaker. Y/N knows she’s only worried. “You can’t do that! I was so fucking scared.” She hears Natasha take a deep breath. “Are you two okay? Can I talk to Yelena?”
“Yelena isn’t here.”
There’s a long silence on the other side of the phone. It almost sounds like Natasha hung up, but the occasional shaky breath lets Y/N knows she’s still there. “Where is she?”
“She’s not here.” Y/N repeats.
“You already said that.” Her voice gets louder again. “Where is she?”
“Not here.”
“Y/N!”
Y/N’s hold of the phone tightens momentarily. “I don’t know. I guess she’s with the other half of the world.”
“No… No, no, she can’t.” Natasha mumbles. She sounds worried. There’s a pause. Y/N can hear her pacing. “Where are you?”
“At our house.”
“Okay.” Natasha clears her throat. “Okay, you should come to the compound. Yelena wouldn’t want you to live alone. We’ll fix this, I promise.”
“Okay.”
For a moment, Y/N actually believes her.
The first year of the blip, Y/N stays in the Avengers compound. She finally meets the rest of the team, or the ones that are left. She doesn’t like them. Why do they get to be here but Yelena doesn’t. It’s not fair. Yelena should be here. She’s glad most of them have already left. Y/N doesn’t think she could have spent longer with them. They’re pathetic.
For the first few months she didn’t speak any more than she had to. She stayed in the guest room assigned to her and ignored everyone. When someone talked to her, she’d mostly nod and hum. Although, sometimes she couldn’t even do that. She’d just stare into the abyss.
Then she started to get angry. When Natasha tried to talk to her, Y/N would shut her off completely. Yelling, slamming doors, throwing things, anything to shut her up. It didn’t work, at first, Natasha would keep coming back. She made a promise to Yelena after all, she’d keep Y/N safe. But after a while, she stopped trying as much.
Y/N started to resent everyone and everything. She hated the feeling of uselessness. The survivors. The ones who started to forget and move on. The Avengers. Natasha. Yelena.
There’s a knock on her door. Y/N puts down her phone. She’s been on it a lot these days. She goes to open the door. “What?”
Natasha holds a plate of food on her hand. “You haven’t come out of your room for days. You have to eat something.”
“I’m not hungry.” Y/N starts closing the door, but Natasha stick her foot in between.
“I don’t care. You’ll eat.” Natasha welcomes herself in the room. It’s tidy. It’s always been tidy. Y/N is still accustomed to order and organization. It’s also empty. Y/N never wanted to get anything extra to her room. Because this isn’t her home. Her home is where Yelena is. “It’s just scraps from yesterday. I can’t cook, you know that, and Steve isn’t here today.”
“Right.”
Natasha gives the plate to Y/N, sitting next to her. “How are you?”
“Perfect, obviously.” She holds onto the plate, but doesn’t eat.
“Y/N.” Natasha sighs. She rubs her forehead. “I know this is difficult to you, I understand. But y-“
“No!” Y/N pushes the plate back to Natasha as she stands up. “You don’t know. You don’t understand!” She laughs, her eyes wide. She’s hollow. There’s nothing in her voice or eyes. “You have your second family or whatever you call them. All I had was Yelena. She was my family!”
Natasha sets the plate down to a side table, grabbing Y/N’s hands. “I know. And I promise you that we will get her back.”
“Don’t you dare promise me things you don’t even believe in.” Her words come out like a bite. Sharp. Cold. Rough.
“I do believe we can get everyo-“
Y/N pulls herself away from Natasha. “Oh shut up! We both know you can’t do anything alone. And everyone else has already given up.”
Both of them turn quiet. They stare at each other. Y/N’s chest is rising up and down as she breathes heavily.
“I want to leave.”
“You know where the door is.” Natasha mumbles.
Y/N clenches her jaw. It hurt. She knows she’ll regret leaving, so does Natasha letting her leave, but both of their judgments are clouded by emotions.
Y/N packs the few things she has and strides out the door, bumping into Natasha on the way. Natasha spends the night in Y/N’s room, crying.
The next four years go by rather quickly. Y/N doesn’t let herself have any free time to think or feel. She just works and then works some more. She was grateful to have a lot of work. People became angry and violent during the blip. They wanted other people dead. And Y/N was there to grant their wish. It also paid well.
Still, Y/N never moved out of her and Yelena’s old apartment. She never even changed anything in it. She wanted to keep Yelena’s side clean and pristine for her return. If she ever does return.
She cleans her knives from the blood that’s coating them. She always has preferred them over guns, even though the gun collection she has is big. The only sound in the house is coming from the television. The News channel is on.
Y/N throws a clean knife to her bag and picks up the next one. She stares at it. It’s Yelena’s. It has blood on it. It doesn’t feel right. Taking a wet cloth, she starts scrubbing it furiously, gritting her teeth together while doing it.
“Shit!” She drops the knife. Her palm is bleeding. “Motherfucker.” Mumbling, she goes to pick up the first aid kit.
While she bandages her hand, her attention turns to the television. The news anchor is speaking quite frantically.
Y/N ups the volume. ”We’ve just gotten new information from the fight against Thanos. Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff are confirmed dead.” Her whole body freezes. “But their sacrifice has brought back the half we lost during blip. Thank you for your heroism Ave-*
Y/N screams, throwing a knife straight to the television screen. Her breathing picks up quickly. She has to kneel down so she wouldn’t fall down. One of her hands is on the door while the other is pressing against her chest.
Natasha is dead. They’re back. Natasha is dead. They’re back.
The words circle through her brain. She starts feeling sick. Natasha tried calling her few times. Y/N didn’t answer. Then she texted how they’ll save Yelena. Y/N didn’t answer that one either. She didn’t believe her.
Running to the bathroom, Y/N kneels in front of the toiler just in time before vomiting. She coughs. It feels impossible to breathe. There isn’t enough air. The walls are closing in.
There’s a harsh knock on the door.
Y/N freezes. The knocking doesn’t stop. She flushes the toilet and washes her mouth with water. It’s all going in slow motion for her. The walk to the front door feels so long. A shaky breath leaves her mouth when her hand touches the handle.
She opens the door.
“No.” Her voice is quiet, but she sounds and looks just the same as five years ago. Y/N on the other hand, she almost looks unrecognizable to her. Of course she’d always recognize her little sister no matter what. But she’s so…adult like. “You didn’t disappear.”
Y/N shakes her head. She isn’t sure if her voice even works.
“You were alone, for five years.”
“I was.” She croaks out.
“You are an adult now.”
“I am.”
Yelena pulls her into a bone crushing hug. Y/N can’t do it back, so she just stands there. After a while Yelena pulls back to properly look at her. Her hand traces through every feature. Y/N’s face is rougher now, there’s a ragged scar near her left eye. It hasn’t healed properly. Yelena’s thumb caresses it. All that’s running through her mind is how she wasn’t there to protect her.
“You still owe me that ten dollars.” Y/N whispers.
“What?” Yelena’s gaze turns from the scar to her eyes. She instantly frowns. They look so cold compared to when she was a kid.
“You owe me ten dollars, from the mission. I told you it’d turn to shit.”
“Language.”
“You can’t say that to me anymore.”
“Yes I can.” Yelena laughs. It’s airy and sad. “I’m still your big sister.”
The words make Y/N frown. Yelena doesn’t have a big sister anymore. “Natasha is dead.”
“I know.”
“She saved you.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t believe her.” She whispers. “She promised to bring you back, but I didn’t believe her.”
“It’s okay. She knows you didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
Y/N scoffs, walking further in the house. Yelena follows her after closing the front door. Her brows scrunch when she notices the broken television, knives and bloodied papers near the aid kit. Only now she realizes Y/N’s hand is bandaged.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“This is not nothing.”
“Just leave it, Yelena.” She snaps. Y/N groans, rubbing her head. She doesn’t want to get angry at Yelena, especially not right now. She just got back. “Nothing happened.” She rips the knife out of her television. It definitely won’t work anymore.
Yelena sighs, deciding to change the subject. “What have you done during the five years?”
“I was at the Avengers compound for the first year, then I left.”
“And then?”
“You don’t want to know.” Yelena raises a brow. Y/N groans, rolling her eyes. “I…killed people, for money.”
Yelena purses her lips together. She’s mad, obviously. She didn’t want Y/N to live this kind of life, but at the same time, she would’ve done the same. “Okay. Who do you work for?”
“Different people. Whoever needs me.”
Humming, Yelena looks around the apartment. It looks exactly the same. It’s comforting to see that at least something is the same. “Does your current boss need another employee?”
Y/N slams the car door closed, watching as Fanny runs right past her. She walks behind Yelena. The whole car ride there was quiet, Y/N didn’t know what to say, if she even should say anything. She doubts there’s anything that’d help the grief Yelena is feeling. And she’s mourning too, though at times she wonders if she’s allowed to. Anytime those feelings come, though, Yelena seems to be there to remind it’s okay for her to be sad.
Yelena cleans up the grave, while Y/N kneels in front of it. She isn’t sure if her legs would hold her.
Natasha Romanoff
Daughter Sister Avenger
Yelena presses her head against the side of the grave. Whistling to it and then pausing, hoping that maybe, just maybe, someone would answer.
She stands and helps Y/N up as well. They stare at the gravestone in silence, until the sound of blowing a nose disturbs them. Turning to look at the person, they see Valentina.
“Wow, sorry.” She sniffles. “I’m allergic to the Midwest. What this woman did, honestly, I can’t even imagine.”
“You’re not supposed to be bothering us on out holiday time, Valentina.” Yelena comments, refusing to look at her.
“Oh, bothering you? Oh, no, no. I’m just here paying my respects.”
Yelena hums, not believing a word that comes out of her mouth. “You know, coming here makes you look desperate.” They laugh, but Yelena turns serious very quickly. “We want a raise.”
“Oh, yeah. You and me both. Believe me, you’re gonna earn it.” Valentina takes out a tablet. “I’ve got your next target. Thought I’d hand-deliver it. Maybe you two would like a shot at the man responsible for your sister’s death.” Yelena takes the tablet, showing it to Y/N as well. “Kind of a cutie, don’t you think?”
Y/N stares at the picture. Clint Barton, an Avenger, the one Natasha was stuck in Budapest with. She turns to look at Yelena, who has mostly a emotionless look on her face, but she can see the fury deep within.
Here they go again.
Y/N stares at her phone while Yelena is changing out of the uncomfortable suit. They’re in New York, staying in a fancy apartment Yelena got for them. She has always been the one who thrives in fashion.
’We have a plan, Y/N. We’ll save Yelena and everyone else. You don’t have to be alone anymore. Just like I promised.’
It’s the last text Natasha sent to her. The one she didn’t answer to. Natasha died thinking she’s still mad at her, when truthfully, she never was. Y/N shouldn’t have left. Maybe Natasha would be still alive if she stayed.
“Aren’t you going to change out of that?” Yelena stares at Y/N.
Glancing down at her own suit, Y/N shrugs. She doesn’t have the energy to move. Her side hurts. She’s pretty sure the other woman sliced her with a knife, but Yelena never noticed, so Y/N will keep quiet about. She’d worry too much.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.” She sighs. “Just tired.”
Yelena hums. “I think I lost my mask in there.” Clint pulled it off in the middle of the fight. It never looked practical to Y/N.
“Do you want to go get it?”
“No, I’ll get a new one.” Yelena keeps staring at Y/N, whose eyes are still glued to her phone. She’s reading the text over and over again, as if magically Natasha would text her again and she could apologize. “I think we should visit Kate Bishop later.”
“Okay.”
“You’ve been very distant recently.”
Y/N puts down her phone to look at Yelena. “I don’t know what you mean.” She presses her hand against the wound to slow down the bleeding, hiding the grimaces of pain.
“You don’t talk, you don’t want to do anything but work.” Yelena walks closer. “I’m worried.”
”There’s no need to worry.” Y/N mumbles. She sighs, combing her hand through her hair. Standing up, she starts organizing the things around their apartment. She wanted to keep everything neat and Yelena is more messy than her. It was also way to escape her thoughts.
“You’ve changed.” Yelena states. Her voice is full of worry, but she tries not to show it too much.
“You don’t get it, Yelena.” Y/N’s voice is desperate as she moves her hands around. “Of course I’m different. It’s been five fucking years!”
“Language, please.”
“Stop acting like you’re still my overprotective older sister. I don’t need that anymore.” She starts pacing around her spot, rubbing her forehead. Her head is starting to get cloudy. She can’t get her thoughts straight.
“You don’t just magically stop needing your big sister!” Yelena frowns. “Which is why I’ll al-“
Y/N throws an empty glass to the wall. “Oh shut up!” Yelena doesn’t flinch from the burst of anger.
“Throwing things isn’t going to solve anything.” Yelena takes a few steps forward. She can see the struggle in Y/N’s eyes. “You talk to me when you feel angry. You tell me what’s going on in your mind. You come to me. Because you still need me.” She grabs Y/N’s hands, tightening her hold when she stats pulling away.
Y/N grunts, getting increasingly frustrated by Yelena, who pulls her even closer and closer. “Stop.” She mumbles.
Yelena wraps her arms fully around Y/N, locking her arms under them. Slowly, Y/N starts breaking down. Her tears fill with tears and they fall down her cheeks. Yelena shushes her as she starts sobbing, whispering sweet nothing into her ear. “We’re going to be okay.” She lifts up her hand when she feels something wet. Blood. “Lets get this cleaned up.”
Kate is sitting right in front of them. Yelena is talking with her while eating mac and cheese. Most of the conversation has gone past Y/N, she doesn’t have any energy to listen.
Her head is still a mess, somehow she can’t clear it as well as before. Maybe it has something to do with Yelena being back, or Natasha dying, Y/N doesn’t know.
Kate’s eyes keep glancing at her. She isn’t sure if it’s because of how quiet she is being or how roughly she fought at the rooftop. Her fighting style has changed, though it still involves knives and combat, but she’s more brutal, more calculating. It has helped her a lot at being a mercenary. She learned to detach her feelings from the job, which just made her better.
“No. Our sister saved the world. Natasha Romanoff, she saved the world.” The sentence brings Y/N back down to Earth.
Sister. She isn’t sure if she even knows what the word means anymore.
“You’re really Natasha’s sisters?”
“Yes.”
“No.” Y/N mumbles, speaking for the first time since they arrived to Kate’s old apartment.
Both Kate and Yelena turn to look at her, the latter having a questioning look on her face. “What?”
“She’s not my sister.” Her voice is quiet and her eyes are stuck on the table. “She’s not.” Standing up, Y/N leaves the apartment alone.
Yelena doesn’t come of call after her, she isn’t done with Kate Bishop yet. She also knows she wouldn’t get anything out of Y/N when she’s being so distant.
Y/N walks through the streets of New York until she’s far away from people. After a few seconds of utter silence, she lets out a loud, bloodcurdling scream. She screams until she doesn’t have any air left. Holding onto her stomach, she takes deep breaths.
She couldn’t call Natasha her sister with good conscience anymore. Not after what she did, or didn’t do. It’s her fault she died. Maybe if she stayed at the compound she could’ve taken her place. She didn’t deserve to die. She had people who needed her, like Yelena.
“She’s dead.” She mumbles, closing her eyes. “She’s dead and I killed her.” Blowing air out of her mouth, she relaxes. It helps her, in some sick sense. She’ll spend a lot of time saying things out loud, to remind her what’s real. It clears her head, because sometimes things get mixed up.
After spending three more hours on the one spot, Y/N finally starts walking again. She’s going slowly, staring at her surroundings. She hasn’t really spent any free time exploring the city like Yelena. Not that she had any free time. When Yelena went to see the tourist spots, Y/N did side jobs. She hasn’t told Yelena about it.
The lights are beautiful during the night. She looks up at the buildings. The mist from her breath comes to her field of vision every time she breathes out.
She stops in the middle of an empty street, taking in the cold. She always hated it after the Red Room, but now she misses it. The slight pain from being out in the cold for too long feels like an embrace.
With one last deep breath of the fresh air, she starts walking towards the apartment her and Yelena are staying at. She doesn’t say anything when she comes in, neither does Yelena. She’s grateful for that. At times Y/N hopes Yelena has given up on her like Natasha did. That she’d let her walk out of the door without stopping her, and her every action brings her closer to it.
Yelena and Y/N split right away as they enter the huge Christmas party. They’re looking for Clint, both of them wanting to get the mission over, especially Y/N. It’s too close to Natasha.
Y/N rolls her eyes when the sniper starts shooting. Of course nothing ever goes their way. She follows Yelena to go after Clint, but they lose him momentarily in the midst of chaos and darkness. However, they find a hallway leading to the elevators Clint is in.
As they wait for one, Kate walks up to them. “So, I know you’re chummy with my mom, but I gotta say, I didn’t think you’d make the cut for the Christmas party.”
“Kate Bishop.” Yelena smiles, making Y/N rolls her eyes. She gets too sidetracked in her opinion. “We’re not here to ruin anything. We’re just going to kill Barton, have some appetizers, and then we’ll go.”
“I hope you enjoy the bruschetta, ‘cause it looks like you already lost him.”
“He’s in the elevator.”
“Yeah, what, out of 65 floors, you think you’re just gonna magically guess which one he’s on?”
One of the elevators dings. “Twelfth floor.”
“Damn it.” Kate mumbles.
“Can you two shut up.” Y/N grumbles, staring at the other elevator’s numbers to will them to go faster.
Yelena shakes her head with a sigh before grinning at Kate. “She’s a bit grumpy.” The elevator opens. “Enjoy the party.” The two assassins get in, Yelena stopping Kate from entering. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work as she slips in right before the door closes.
The three of them stand there in silence. At least for a while. Kate decides to disturb it by trying to push all the elevator buttons, multiple times, which Yelena stops every time. Until the third time when Kate slaps her. Y/N actually snorts at it.
As the elevator door opens at the next floor, Y/N and Yelena run out of it, the latter cursing Kate and throwing her jacket at her. Kate runs right after them.
She catches up to them in the middle of some offices. They fight, though not with their full strength. Y/N isn’t opposed to leaving casualties behind, but right now she just wants to get past her.
Kate blocks the doorway forward. “What are we doin’?” She smiles widely. “I mean, it’s Christmas Eve. Let’s grab a drink, huh?”
Yelena nods. “Okay. Yeah. Sure. After we kill Barton.”
“No. No, that’s not what- Come on. You don’t need to-“
Y/N huffs, getting tired to the stalling. “Get out of my way.” She slams herself against Kate, making her fly out of her position. She holds a foot over her chest. “And stay out of it.” Irritated, she jogs away from Kate, who gets up quickly to continue fighting with Yelena.
They finally get to the window, but right when Yelena is about to use her baton, Kate throws an object straight to her hand. “Ow! That really hurts!” Yelena throws her hands around, grimacing in pain.
“Yeah. Yeah, well so did the kick in the ribs.”
“Oh, yeah. That was a good one. That was good form.” Y/N rolls her eyes at the conversation going on. “But you did the really cool body throw.” Yelena motions the throw with her hands.
“Yeah, thank you. Thank you.” Kate purses her lips. “Stop making me like you.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it.”
“Oh my god.” Y/N groans, throwing out the wire and jumping out of the window.
Yelena stares at the now empty window. “She’s not one to make friends.” She shrugs at Kate. “That was really fun. Bye.” Jumping out of the window, she takes out her gun and starts shooting at Clint with Y/N. Unfortunately for them, they miss their shots. On the ground, they run to hiding.
They attack Clint again on the ice, Yelena body throwing him to the ground. Clint lays on the ground as Y/N and Yelena stand near him. “Before I kill you, I need to ask you one question.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Yelena and Y/N.”
“I need to know what happened.”
Clint sits up, taking ragged breaths. “Look, Yelena, if I told you what really happened, you’d never believe me. But what you need to know is your sister sacrificed herself, and she saved the world. I’m sorry.” He glances at Y/N, who is intensely staring him down.
Shaking her head, Yelena frowns. “You’re lying. You’re pathetic. You’re so pathetic.” She kicks him down and starts fighting him.
Clint holds Yelena on her place. “Nobody killed her. She made a choice.”
Y/N’s body freezes as she stares at the fighting going on. She knows Clint is lying. She’s the reason Natasha is dead, whether he knows it or not. It’s her fault.
“You’re not listening to me. She sacrificed herself, understand?” Clint holds Yelena on a chokehold, while Yelena looks like she’s about to cry. “I couldn’t stop her.”
Y/N just stares at the fight. Her eyes are glasses over. It’s like she can’t move. Like she’s in the middle of a nightmare that she can’t wake up from. She supposes it is in a way. Just the other way around. Sleep is her escape, but she can’t sleep forever. She has to live day after day in her forever nightmare.
The fight flashes before her eyes. Suddenly Yelena has Clint overpowered. “You should’ve fought harder.” Yelena takes out her baton, nearing Clint as she starts beating him until he can barely hold himself up.
That’s when Yelena drops the baton and takes out her gun, aiming at him. Clint whistles. It makes goosebumps appear on Y/N’s skin, and Yelena stops moving.
“How do you know that?”
“Your secret whistle with Nat. She talked about you all the time, Yelena. She told me about how you got separated as kids. She was flying that plane.” Y/N knows the story. It’s one of the first memories Yelena told her about Natasha. “I asked her if she was scared. All she could think about is that you were safe. That never changed, Yelena. She loved you. And always wanted you safe. Both of you.” He turns to look at Y/N.
“No.” She mumbles.
Natasha told Clint all about Y/N. How the first year of the blip they were together and how regretful Natasha felt after letting her leave. “She was never mad at you.”
“Stop it.”
“She forgave you right away.” Every word he speaks, the more Y/N hurts. “All she wanted was to have you back with her, so she could keep you safe. Like she had promised Yelena.”
Y/N shakes her head. All the thoughts in her head are getting too much.
“She loved you.”
“No!” The change happens in a split second. She takes out two knives, starting to fight Clint who can barely dodge her. Her moves are rough and all over the place. She isn’t calculating all of her moves like usually, now it’s pure emotion and brute force. “She’s dead!” Her yell echoes through the area. Clint is getting littered with cuts while Yelena stands on her place, too stunned to move. “She’s dead! And it’s…it’s-“
Clint gets holds of Y/N’s hands, holding them tightly so she couldn’t move them. She fights against him, but eventually drops down to her knees.
“It’s my fault.” She whispers. ”I killed her.” Dropping the knives from her hands, she stops fighting. Yelena frowns from the sidelines, she didn’t know Y/N thought like that. ”I never answered her. I could’ve stopped her, I could’ve helped.” She mutters.
“You couldn’t have. She made her decision.”
Y/N glares at him, ripping her arms off of Clint’s grip. She stands up and walks away, pulling away from Yelena’s touch as she walks past her.
She continues walking until her legs physically can’t carry her anymore. There’s a small bridge right in front of her, so she goes to sit down on the railing. No one is going through it, giving Y/N a chance to be alone. Her nails are digging deep into her palms and her teeth are clenched together, causing a constant headache.
“It wasn’t your fault.” Yelena’s voice breaks the quiet atmosphere. “Natasha’s death wasn’t your fault.” She says it again to make sure Y/N hears her.
“I didn’t answer her.”
“What do you mean?”
“She tried to call me and sent me a text before she died, saying she’d bring you back. I didn’t answer. I was angry at her.”
Yelena leans against the railing while staring at Y/N. “It’s still not your fault.” She sets her hand on Y/N’s back. “I should’ve been there for you, raising and protecting you. You shouldn’t have been alone.” Yelena huffs, frustrated at the whole situation. “I should’ve protected you.”
“Well you didn’t, did you?” Y/N turns around, dropping down from the railing to stand in front of Yelena. “You weren’t there to keep me safe or comfort me, and that’s shitty, but you can’t do anything to change it. So, just stop it.”
Yelena purses her lips together. She knows Y/N is right. In a way, they can probably never get back to the way they were. Y/N is an adult now. She was all alone for years and that changed her for the rest of her life.
“I don’t need a protector anymore. I don’t need you anymore.”
Swallowing, Yelena frowns. The words hurt to hear. Because she still needs Y/N. “Family never stops needing each other.”
“This family broke a long time ago.” Y/N whispers. “I know it was only few seconds to you, but to me it was five years. And during those years I grew up, it’s time for me to move on. You should do the same.”
“No. I don’t want to.” Yelena shakes her head, stepping closer to Y/N. “I’m not leaving you alone again.”
“You aren’t leaving me, Yelena. I’m walking away.” Y/N clears her throat so her sound wouldn’t waver so much. “Thanks for giving me a family, even if it was only for a short while.” She nods and turns around.
“No, Y/N.” Yelena’s eyes turn glassy as she stares at Y/N’s back. “I forbid you from walking away from me!”
“You can’t do that anymore.” Y/N shouts out with a sad smile, not stopping, not looking back.
Yelena keeps standing on her place, just watching as Y/N moves further and further away. She doesn’t follow her.
She can’t do that anymore.
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abbyromanoff · 10 months
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YELENA BELOVA MASTERLIST:
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WHO I WILL WRITE FOR: Florence Pugh, Yelena Belova (MCU), Alice (DWD), Dani (Midsommar), Amy March (Little Women)
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Sharing Is Caring (smut)
Daddy’s Only Whore (smut)
Change Of Plans (smut, dark!!)
Too Good (smut, angst, fluff)
Better Than Him (smut, angst, dark!!)
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heliads · 4 months
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I don’t know if you write for Kate Bishop from the MCU. If you do, would I be able to request an imagine where the reader is one of Clint’s kids; and Kate becomes an older sister figure to them and helps them become a superhero, please?
'hero in training' - platonic kate bishop x reader
masterlist
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It’s surprisingly difficult for your parents to take you seriously.
You’d think that having not one but two agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. as your mom and dad would lead to an interesting childhood. By all accounts, it did, what with your dad having to head out to battle Thanos or pick a side when the Avengers split up. That being said, you were really hoping to become a hero in your own right, but apparently that’s where Hawkeye and Agent 19 draw the line.
They’re just trying to keep you safe by keeping you out of their line of work. Supposedly. That’s how the excuse goes, at least, and goodness knows you’ve heard it often enough for the words to become familiar. People get hurt when you tangle in the Avengers business. Since you’re still a kid, they don’t want you to have any part of it. Sure, your parents made sure you’ve been taking self defense courses since you were old enough for the tutelage to have any impact, and your father trained you in the bow and arrow before that, but it’s not the same.
Secretly, you’ve always wanted more. Ever since you figured out that your dad was an Avenger, you couldn’t wait until you could join those ranks of heroes. Earth always needs a protector, and this need is only strengthened ever since your world broadened to include the rest of the galaxy. There’s a place for you as a hero, you’re certain of that. The only problem rests with convincing your parents that it’s time for you to help take up the mantle of saving the world.
They’re not too pleased with the idea, to say the least. Your mom insists that saving the world is going to have to happen after you graduate college, and your dad is leaning more towards pushing that date to never ever. No matter what you say about it being your responsibility to help protect the universe when it needs a helping hand, they’re not likely to guide you along that road.
You were assuming that you’d never get a chance to prove your worth. Your dad seemed more than ready to hang up his hat as a former Avenger, especially since you were all dusted and came back to find him without one of his oldest friends. You miss Natasha just as much as he does, but losing the Black Widow solidified the idea in your dad’s mind that he couldn’t afford to lose anyone else he cared about. As one of his precious children, you were certainly one of the ones to be protected.
After Thanos was defeated, you had assumed that was it, so much for your hero aspirations until you were old enough for your parents to get off of your back. However, only a short time had passed before Hawkeye was back in the news, and, most excitingly of all, back in the business. He claimed it was only going to be a one-off affair, something small that he would handle and return with plenty of time for Christmas.
As the days passed, though, and your dad stayed away to handle the ever-growing issues, you started to wonder if maybe your hopes might have a chance at coming back from the dead. Once your dad came back with his new sidekick in tow, you knew you were good as gold. One way or another, you were going to become a hero. Even if you had to draft Kate Bishop to make that happen.
You had a game plan. All the best heroes do. When she first walked through your door, Kate looked terrified, so nervous about accidentally being an unwanted guest that she failed to pick up on the scheming spark in your eyes upon seeing her. Immediately, you befriended the girl. That part was easy, and would have happened even if you weren’t planning on asking her for tips on how to crack into the hero business. Kate’s a nice girl, and a great friend. Honestly, even if you won’t be able to hack it in the world of the Avengers, you’d still be glad to have met her at all.
By the end of that weekend, you and Kate find yourselves staying up late after everyone else went to bed, aimlessly talking about whatever comes across your mind. She’s really funny, and many times you find yourself wiping tears from your eyes from laughing too hard.
On one of these occasions, Kate glances across the sofa at you. You watch as her broad grin turns into a softer smile. “Thanks for having me over, Y/N. I mean it. I’m really glad Clint let me come over.”
“Of course,” you assure her. “We’re friends now, aren’t we?”
She nods. “Absolutely. If there’s ever anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask. Please.”
This is exactly what you were hoping to hear. “Well,” you say slowly. “You said anything, right?”
Kate frowns. “Hopefully still something legal, but we can get around that. What did you have in mind?”
You can’t hide your devious grin any longer. “I want you to train me to be a hero.”
Kate blinks at you. “What?”
You wave your hand vaguely at her. “I’ve been begging my dad to train me for years and he never gave in, but somehow you broke through his shell and got him back into the ring. I want to know how you did it. I know martial arts, so I can fight, but I don’t know how to start helping people who need it. You do. Teach me your secrets.”
Kate shakes her head disbelievingly. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I have a feeling I’d make a terrible teacher.”
“I have a feeling that says otherwise,” you insist. “Come on, Kate. At the least, it won’t be boring.”
Kate glances self-consciously at the stairs, but upon certifying that no one else is listening into the conversation, she nods at last. “Alright. Just don’t tell your dad, I finally got Clint to stop getting annoyed with me. I don’t need him to freak out because I took you on a few patrols.”
You pump your first in celebration. “Oh, I’m not saying a word. Trust me on that. This is going to be so good!”
Kate can’t help but laugh. “I think that’s right.”
Hero lessons start the next morning, bright and early. Kate claims that heroes have to be ready to defend the world at all hours of the day, but you catch her yawning into her hand when she thinks you’re not looking anyway. The two of you go on runs, practice sparring, and trade shots at the archery targets in your backyard. Although she initially tries to hide it, you know Kate is impressed with your marksmanship. That’s just the perks of growing up with an Avenger, you suppose, but it is quite satisfying to watch each of your arrows hit the bullseye whenever you fire.
Not all of your training is physical, though. Kate also teaches you important things like strategy– how to tell when you’re walking into a trap, how to get information without exposing yourself as being on a case, how to trust a stranger without letting down your guard. You half feel as if you ought to be taking notes, but Kate’s so passionate about what she says that it’s easy to follow along and remember afterwards.
Kate’s visit to the Barton family farm ends eventually, as all well-intentioned visits must. You still insist that she’s got several more months to go before she even begins to get on your nerves, but the older girl just laughs and says that it’s for the best that she heads back to the city, anyway. Something about needing to clean up loose ends. Kate assures you that you’re free to visit at any time, but you know you’ll still think fondly on these days in not-so-bleak December, back when the two of you were running circles around everyone else and planning out what it means to be a hero.
The two of you exchange phone numbers before you go, and it’s a rare night indeed that you haven’t heard from her, either a text message here and there or a lengthy call recounting all that you’ve experienced since you last parted. You’ve already made your dad promise to take you with him the next time he goes to Manhattan so you can visit Kate, and the two of you have a long list of things you need to do while you’re there. Fence, for one thing. Practice archery, for another. Maybe even save some lives while you’re at it.
Even if you and Kate may not be having face to face clandestine meetings anymore, though, that doesn’t mean you’re likely to give up on your dreams of becoming an Avenger someday. You practice according to her tips, consistently checking in to make sure you’re improving as you should. One day, you’ll get your chance. You can feel it.
Maybe six months after you first meet Kate Bishop, your patience comes to fruition. On a day trip with your school to a nearby city, you’re traveling from museum to museum with your class when you spot someone getting mugged down a nearby alleyway. Your first instinct, of course, is to help, so you murmur a quick excuse to your classmates before ducking down the alley.
The thieves aren’t expecting someone like you to jump in, and they certainly aren’t expecting you to kick their asses. The victim thanks you profusely, which makes you feel great. Maybe being a hero is well within your reach after all.
What you didn’t like so much, however, was having to sit around the police station later as a key eyewitness to the crime. You forgot one key step, which was to clear out pretty soon after saving the day. Your dad has to come pick you up, and although you’re not in trouble, you still feel guilty for making him go out of his way to get you.
Clint sits down across from you in the police station waiting room. He eyes your bruised knuckles with a raised eyebrow, then sighs. “Kate Bishop got to you, then?”
Your jaw drops in surprise. “What? I mean, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Your dad snorts. “This whole scene has her name written all over it. Kate’s got a good heart, but her planning needs some work. I’m assuming you made her help you out after I told you that Avenging couldn’t be in your future?”
You wince. “Promise you won’t get mad?”
You’re expecting a lot of reactions from your dad upon hearing that you’ve been sneaking around behind his back to pursue the one career ambition he’s strictly declared off-limits. Breaking out into quiet laughter, however, isn’t that. “Mad? Why on earth would I be mad? You saved someone out there, someone who needed it. You kept yourself safe and kicked some bad guy ass while you were at it. I’m not mad, Y/N. I’m proud of you.”
A slow, careful smile spreads onto your face. “Really?”
“Really,” he affirms. “Just– next time tell Kate that the two of you don’t have to hide it from me, alright? I think both of you could use extra lessons in how to pick your battles.”
You can’t help but laugh at that. “Alright, alright. Does this mean she’s visiting again?”
“Maybe that you’re visiting her,” he suggests. “I’ve got a meeting coming up in the city and I was thinking about taking you with me. Only if you want to, of course.”
You spring up from your chair, wrapping your arms around him. “Of course I want to! Let’s go, I have to call Kate about this immediately.”
Clint shakes his head fondly as the two of you head to the door. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I? Neither of you can get involved in multiversal nonsense, promise me that.”
“Absolutely,” you assure him, but you cross your fingers when he’s not looking. When it comes to you and Kate, the sky’s the limit.
marvel tag list: @mayfieldss, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @callsign-scully, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @fadedver, @alex-1967s-blog, @crazyhearttragedy
all tags list: @wordsarelife
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Tony: *stressed out* Can one of you PLEASE explain to me why you all legally changed your names to: Spooky, Scary, and Skeletons?
Spooky/ Y/N: It was for Halloween
Scary/ Kate: But for year round so it even applies now, in June
Skeletons/ Peter: THEY MADE ME DO IT
Spooky: DON’T YOU DARE BE A SNITCH, SKELETONS
Skeletons: Sorry, Spooky
Tony: I am going to murder all of you
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doudouneverte · 1 year
Text
No Petname
a/n: i didn't want to not post anything this week so i write a little thing.
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*not my GIF* (she's badass like this.Marvel bring us back our queen!!)
Natasha Romanoff x Yelena Belova x Sister!Reader; Kate Bishop x Little!Widow
summary: (i watched a lot of couple video on youtube) R prank her girlfriend because she's bored
Type: Fluff
Warning: nothing
word count: ~1257
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The recent week was boring in the tower; you couldn't go on a mission because you got hurt on your last mission, so after an hour on your phone, you think about something. Ten minutes later, you were in Yelena's bedroom.
"So, you want to prank your girlfriend because you're bored?" your sister asked, and you nodded. "Let's go I'm in." she said. That's why you liked Yelena; she was always ready to prank anyone, and even if she liked Kate, the brunette was clearly her favorite target. "So, what did you plan?" she asked, and you smirked.
"She should come back tonight with Clint. We don't have time to set up a big thing, so I'll try to upset her by calling her by her full name." you said, and the blonde frowned her eyebrow. "She doesn’t like when someone calls her Katherine; we will see how long she could handle this." you explained, and your sister smirked. She didn't think about something so obvious.
Later this day, you were with Yelena on the couch, watching a movie with the other Avengers in the tower, when Friday told you that Kate, your girlfriend, was back from her mission with Clint. When she came in the living room, she greeted everyone and made her way next to you.
"Hey babe, I miss you." she said before she kissed your cheek. You kissed her back, and when she started to feel at home, you shocked her.
"Hey Kate, how was your mission?" you asked her, and she frowned her eyebrow. You have stopped calling her Kate since you started dating.
"Uh, well. It was more easy than they thought." she replied. Nobody said anything more, and you just finished the movie. It was still early, so Sam decided to watch another movie, and you all agreed. But before that, you wanted some snacks, so you stood up, but you didn't miss asking your girlfriend if she wanted something.
"Katherine I will grab snacks; do you want something?" you asked, and all the noises instantly disappeared. You didn't see it, but the guys started to feel uncomfortable, but Yelena and Tony smirked.
"Uh. Just a soda, thanks." she replied, and you nodded before leaving, and your blonde sister followed you. When you were in the kitchen, your girlfriend looked at Natasha. "Did I do something to her?" she asked, and your older sister was also surprised.
"I was about to ask you the same thing." the redhead said.
In the kitchen, you were packing some snacks with the help of Yelena, but she couldn't help but laugh. "You should see her face." she said, and you smirked.
"Okay, it was funny, but I don't like to see her like that." you said. "I'll make up tonight." you added, and the Russian nodded. You quickly returned to the living room and took your seat next to your favorite black-haired person after you placed the snacks on the coffee table. "And a soda for my Katherine." you said, holding her soda can. The rest of the night went well. Kate thought you just had a bad day, but tomorrow you'll be right, no?
Unfortunately, no. When she woke up, you were running your hand through her hair. "I just woke up, and you want to make me sleep again." she joked, and you smiled. You gently kissed her, and she smiled like a teenager. She loved it when you kissed her; that meant a lot to you because of your past, but the morning kiss was her favorite. There was no one there, just you two.
"Good morning, Katherine." you whispered with a strong morning accent, and you almost laughed when she frowned her eyebrows. She wanted to talk, but she was interrupted by knocks on the door.
"Y/n, I need a new partner for this morning!!" Yelena yelled.
"Duty call," you said, and after 30 minutes, you were out with your sister. Kate started to be pissed off, and you didn't really calm her down because you called her 'Katherine' during the entire week. The next Monday, she started to feel overwhelmed. She was in the kitchen with your two sisters when you showed up, you kissed her cheek like always, and you greeted your sisters. You ate some of Yelena's mac and cheese, and you decide to ask a favor to your girlfriend. "Katherine, can you give me a water bottle, please?" you asked with your puppy's eyes, but she just glared at you.
"It's not the right name," she mumbled, and you knew she was angry, but you didn't want to end this now.
"The last time I checked, you were Katherine Bishop. So, Katherine Elizabeth Bishop, can you give me a water bottle, please?" you repeated, and she smacked her hand on the kitchen counter.
"Who is Katherine Elizabeth Bishop?" she asked, visibly pissed off.
"It's yo-" you tried to say, but you were cut off.
"No, it's not me. Katherine Bishop is gone!" she said loudly, and Yelena used all her strength to suppress her laughs. "For everyone, it's Kate! For Yelena, it's Kate Bishop! For Nat, it's little hawk! For Alexei, it's Little American. For Melina, it's Y/n's girlfriend! But for you, Y/n Vostokoff, it's Katie, babe, baby, moya lyubov'(my love), hot stuff, printsessa(princess), milaya devushka(cutie girl), moya zhena(my wife) or the future mother of my children!" she exclaimed. "So, I repeat myself, who is Katherine Elizabeth Bishop?" she asked.
The kitchen was silent for a moment. It was really not her thing to raise her voice to you, she was always so lovely and caring. "Wow, Y/n you mess up." Nat said, and Yelena finally laughed. Their voices brought you back.
You quickly stood up and gave your girlfriend a tight hug. "I'm sorry, Katie baby; it was just a prank." you explained, and you chuckled. "If I knew you would be so upset, I would do that earlier." you joked, and she slammed your arm before escaping from your grip.
"I thought you were upset with me, dipshit." she said, and you gasped.
"Kate Bishop, my future sister-in-law, how you called her." Yelena said, and you chuckled.
"I'm sorry." you repeated. "I love you, moya lyubov'." You kissed her and melted when your lips connected with hers. "How could you forgive me?"
"Cuddle with me" she said immediately. "And you'll come with me to Lucky's walk later." she added, and you nodded.
A few hours later, you were in Central Park for Lucky's walk, your finger intertwined with Kate's. She was talking about her week, and something came to your mind, you stopped, and she looked confused.
"Did you mean it?" you asked, and when she showed you, she didn't understand what you were talking about, so you explained. "About being the mother of my children."
She smirked, "I don't mind, but before we have to do something." she said, and you smiled.
You spent the rest of the walk smiling to yourself. This night Kate was fast asleep on your chest, and you just ran your hand through her hair. You were thinking about everything, and you finally thought about something, or more precisely, someone. You looked at the sleeping girl and smiled. Yeah, one day she'll be your wife.
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yanaromanov · 1 month
Text
pretty little beginnings
- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader
part summary: the start of the new semester sees you reunited with your best friend, kate, but also introduces you to your surprisingly gorgeous new professor. when you get a perfect score on her first class test, she’s keen to have a conversation with you…
part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, reader is a perfectionist, minors dni.
authors note: i have no idea about america or their universities so am purely basing this off my own experience at my uk university, so if anything is incorrect i apologise but also let’s just pretend it’s not :)
part one of the inescapable love series
inescapable love masterlist
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・ 。゚*. 18+, minors DNI . * 。゚・
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The beginning of term was always one of your favourite points of the whole year. To most, returning to campus after summer was somewhat of a bittersweet moment, having to come back to the reality of long classes and endless studying. For you, however, it was the start of something new, a fresh look at different courses that hadn’t yet bundled up into countless assignments or exams. The start of term always carried the least amount of pressure and therefore, the least amount of anxiety. Everything was starting from page one again, and it always provided you with a few weeks of sweet relief before you’d once again inevitably realise just how stressful school truly was.
Aside from the pressure of classes, most of your peers also found sorrow in the end of their summer break visiting home and their families. For you, however, this wasn’t one of your mind’s concerns. In fact, the trip back to university provided solace, a well-deserved partition between the people who you’d spent the past few months trying to tolerate.
Now, to say your family were awful to be around would be overstating things, in truth they weren’t all that bad, but spending summer with them was certainly not on your list of dream holidays. Most days you hid away in your childhood bedroom, trying to avoid the bickering voice of your mother, persistently droning on about school and your grades. She’d always taken a great pride in her children and that had certainly extended to you, her ideologies of perfection constantly looming over your shoulder. Your dad liked to drink, not enough to endanger his health but enough to wake you a few nights a week when he’d stumble around the kitchen in a drunken stupor. This itself was rather a hypocrisy, your dad being the one who dragged everyone to church on a Sunday morning to praise the Christian values when it seemed the holy day was the only one he didn’t seek out the bottle. At least now you were thankful that Sunday was the only day you had to deal with your older brother, when he’d join the rest of your family at service. For years, his perfection had been a constant reminder of how you were the disappointing child, despite attending one of the most prestigious universities in America.
In fact, your family was one of the main reasons you had even applied there. Not, as one may think, to appeal to their standards, but in fact, because it was about as far away as possible you could get from them. England was your home country, growing up in a small town in the southern parts of the land. Moving to America had been a big deal, having to completely relocate your life to an entirely different part of the world, but it had been something you desperately needed. At first your mother had been hesitant to let you go at all, but once she’d heard the ranking of the school you’d earned a scholarship for, she was all for having a daughter at a prestigious university in the states.
So, that was how you ended up here, already three years into your university career with only one to go until graduation. Living in America had been just the step you’d needed, finally giving you space from your overbearing family and in the process, also gifting you with one of the closest friends you’d ever had. Kate had been the first friendly face you’d seen at your new school, smiling widely as you’d first stepped into your shared dorm and energetically shaking your hand. Ever since, the pair of you had been practically inseparable, growing closer and closer everyday, and three years later, you still found yourselves sharing a dorm room.
Despite Kate’s skills in friendship, there was one thing about her that one may call a character flaw; the inability to ever wake up on time. It was the first official day of the semester, a few weeks having passed since the two of you had had your happy reunion and redecorated your shared room. The sun shone through the curtains which you had opened almost an hour ago. In all honesty, it was quite impressive how Kate had managed to not only sleep through your alarm, but hers as well. Atop of that, you’d not taken the curtesy to get yourself ready in a quiet manner. Now however, Kate really needed to wake up.
A tress of black hair flew up in the gust of wind that the pillow brought along with it. Moments later, Kate was sitting up quickly, cursing out at you for throwing at her in the first place. You chuckled at her antics as she tried to wipe away the hairs clinging to her mouth. “You overslept, Bishop,” you called, voice light and playful.
Kate scowled back at you, finally free from the mess of her bed head. Seconds later, you were dodging the pillow flying back across the room towards you.
“Hey!” you called back, narrowly missing getting hit in the head. “You’re the one who told me to wake you up, remember? You said this was the year you were getting your shit together.”
Kate’s expression was nothing short of unimpressed. She let out a loud groan as she threw herself back down into the confines of her bed, bringing her hands up to hold her face. “Can we reschedule that to next year instead?”
The chuckle that left your lips was light. “You know there is no next year.”
Your hands reached out towards her, grabbing hold of her duvet and ripping it from her bed. A small scream escaped Kate’s lips as she desperately tried to rescue the cover, albeit she arose unsuccessful. You passed her a small smirk as you threw the duvet to the floor. “If you’re not ready in five minutes, I’m going for breakfast without you.”
The girl passed you a none-too-happy glare but eventually settled on rolling out of bed, groaning loudly as she fell ungraciously to the floor. Simply laughing off her antics, you moved towards the full length mirror that hung in your dorm to check your outfit one last time. The warm weather still clung to the September air, resulting in the floral summer dress you’d adorned for the day, a small white cardigan sat atop of it. As always, your worn-in converse sat upon your feet, tattered from the years they’d spent traversing you to class.
American weather was just another one of the things you loved about living in the states. Summer in England was sticky and gross, the house always too hot, lacking AC and unbearable to sleep in at night. You’d always end up tossing and turning, sweat sticking the shorts to your body. Every street smelled like disposable barbecues and there never seemed to be enough ice in the shops to cool your drink. Overall, it was a rather uncomfortable experience. But Summer in America was a whole different story. It felt like the movies when they’d jump out of school on the last day, sun shining down on top of them. It was warm outside, and you could enjoy the sun before slinking back to a cool room with beautiful air conditioning, rather than you’d dad’s old fan that was louder than an airplane flying overhead.
“Are you almost done?” You finally turned away from your reflection, glancing across the room to where Kate was pulling her hair up into a messy ponytail. She’d dressed in a pair of old shorts and tshirt, obviously forgoing the ritual you’d followed of dressing cute on the first day.
“Yep,” Kate replied breathlessly, moving to put on her trainers, hopping around the room as she pulled them on. Once they sat upon her feet, she stood upright and looked at you with a dopey smile. “Okay, let’s go.”
You smiled shamelessly back, opening the door to your dorm in order for the pair of you to venture out. Kate simply passed you a small thanks as she slipped out into the corridor, followed closely by you after locking up your room. Thankfully, most days you left together as Kate never seemed to remember that crucial step.
———
“Wait, so you’re actually taking Russian this year?”
Your eyes rolled as the question rung out. “Kate, we’ve talked about this so many times.”
The girl shrugged her shoulders. “I just don’t get why you’d take a random language, that’s all.”
A sigh escaped your lips as you watched Kate take a bite of some scrambled eggs. As she did most mornings, she’d chosen to load her plate up from the breakfast trays, paired perfectly with a full glass of orange juice and a large mug of coffee. On the other hand, you’d only had a slice of toast, simply buttered, then a coffee of a similar size that you’d already downed. For someone who liked to attend meals so close to classes, one would expect Kate to choose smaller portions that she could maybe finish without shoving it in her mouth two minutes before she had to leave.
“I told you, Kate,” you repeated with another sigh. “I had to pick up some credits and the only thing that fit with my timetable was either Russian or a programming class.”
Your face screwed up at the last words you uttered, the idea of such a thing enough to turn your nose up. Kate could have taken some offence, considering her major was computer science and she was in such programming class, but it seemed she was too focused on finishing her half-eaten eggs.
“I thought you said there was a Spanish class you could take?” Kate said, talking around a mouthful of food.
Your eyes rolled in your skull, not only at her actions but at the fact she’d only remembered that small detail of your previous conversation. “There was,” you replied, crossing your arms on the table. “But I just thought Russian sounded more interesting.”
Kate raised a brow as you shrugged a shoulder. She didn’t have much time to judge you however, as you checked your phone to see there was only a few minutes until your first classes. Kate scrambled to finish the food on her plate as you collected your things, downing the rest of her coffee before pulling her backpack on to her shoulders. In the end, she had to run after you out of the dining hall after you’d already left, not letting yourself be late because of her antics.
The pair of you walked across campus together, Kate branching off to her first class and promising to meet up at lunch. You continued on to the building in which your timetable indicated your Russian class would be held. It was all rather new to you, a building you’d never been in before on campus. You supposed it fit with the class that you’d be taking now, stepping into something entirely new.
Thankfully, you found the lecture hall quickly, not discouraged by your unfamiliar surroundings. A lot of the seats were already filled up, the class just a few minutes from starting. You found a space down near the front, a usual spot for you in your determination to never miss anything a lecturer was saying, persistent on never having a blank spot in your notes.
The remaining minutes passed as you set yourself up for the class, pulling out your notebook and pen and setting them neatly on the desktop. Remaining students filed in, filling up what had to be one of the smaller lecture theatres on campus. It seemed there were barely thirty students who had decided to take the class, a small number compared to your usual large English lit course.
Noise bubbled in the room as the clock ticked by. At the exact second the hour struck, a door to the left opened wide.
“Good morning. If you could all settle down now, please. I need to take attendance.”
All attention fell upon the person who walked through the door, silence befalling the room as their voice echoed through the hall. As your eyes lifted from the scribbles on your notebook, they too sought out your new professor, but what they found was certainly not what you had been expecting at all.
The woman that approached the desk at the centre of the room was perhaps the most gorgeous you’d ever seen. Her hair fell perfectly in cascading curls, a brilliant red draped across her back. She wore a pair of black slacks, paired with a light blue dress shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. Her heels clicked meticulously across the polished wood as she set a laptop down at the centred desk, opening it up and glancing down at the screen.
It seemed you were not the only person affected by this woman’s presence as the entire hall fell silent as she began to call register. Most professors at this school were old men, droning on about things tirelessly. Even when presented with a female professor, none ever compared to the power and lure that this woman seemed to radiate across the class.
Once she’d finished calling names and assured everyone was marked down correctly, the red-haired woman moved towards the front of her desk, leaning back against it as a pair of arms came to cross over her chest. Your eyes found particular interest in the very expensive looking watch that sat upon her left wrist.
“Okay, my name is Professor Romanoff, as you have probably seen on your timetables. I will be your teacher for this class on introductory Russian.”
All ears seemed to be on the professor as she spoke, her voice confident in the space it held.
“I will start off by saying that this class is not easy so if you have taken it for that reason, I suggest perhaps changing.”
A tight smile appeared on a pair of red painted lips as the professor continued talking, the curtness behind it clear.
“This class is not impossibly difficult but it is certainly not a free ride. Anybody who treats it as such, is likely to fail.”
You weren’t sure what it was, maybe something in the air, but your attention seemed to cling to everything that fell out of the professors mouth, practically drinking up every word that she said. Your eyes found themselves particularly focused on her lips, adorning a shade of red so perfectly you even questioned if they were naturally that colour.
Professor Romanoff continued to rattle off expectations for the class, bringing up exam dates and testing styles before discussing an outline of everything the class would cover. Your pen jotted down everything she said, almost working faster than your brain could keep up, that ever persistent need to be perfect taking over once more, just like it did every time the new semester rolled back around.
Overall, the class seemed to be mostly an introduction. Professor Romanoff outlined specific topics you’d cover, before beginning to teach the difference between the English and Russian alphabets. Whatever it was she said, every word was jotted down into your notebook with persistent attentiveness.
The class seemed to pass by quickly, the order to pack up echoing out earlier than you thought it would, but with a quick glance at your phone, you realised that an entire hour had indeed passed. You tidied up your belongings, throwing them all into the old backpack you carried about everywhere, then got up to follow the crowd out of the lecture theatre. Your mind found itself satisfied with the enjoyment of the class, finding everything taught very interesting. Some part of you even found yourself somewhat excited for the next time you’d dawn the building and Professor Romanoff’s class.
———
“So how was it?”
Kate’s words were out of her mouth before you’d even sat down at the table, delayed in joining her by a few minutes due to your English professor droning on too long in his lecture. A sigh escaped your lips as you finally set yourself down at the dining table, throwing your backpack underneath as you looked over at your friend.
“How was what?”
Kate rolled her eyes. “Your Russian class,” she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing ever said.
“Oh, right,” you replied, reaching for the cutlery on your tray and using it to begin cutting the omelette you’d picked up for lunch. “It was good.”
Kate raised a brow, obviously more curious than your answer could satisfy. “Just good ?”
You nodded in response, raising a single shoulder. “Yeah, good. It was really interesting.”
Kate hummed, taking a bite of the chicken burger she’d chosen for lunch. Like she often did, the girl spoke around her food to ask you another question. “How was the professor? Some old Russian guy?”
Unsure of exactly why, it felt like your heart gave a little flutter when Kate mentioned the professor, maybe it had something to do with the way you’d spent most of the lesson staring at her and thinking how beautiful she was. “Uhm, no actually,” you replied, taking a small bite of your food. “It was a woman. Quite young looking too.”
Kate’s interest seemed to be piqued, a single brow raised. “How young?”
You shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know how young. Like, thirties? I don’t know.” You shrugged again, unsure of how exactly to answer her question.
The girl across from you hummed. You could tell why it was a suprise to her, it had been to you too when you’d first laid eyes on your new teacher. Most professors at this university were very good at what they did, but that often came with the experiences of age. A younger professor was an uncommon sight.
“What was her name?” Kate asked, still chewing another bite of her burger.
“Romanoff.”
Kate hummed. “And she was any good?”
“Yeah,” you replied lightly, trying not to think too hard about the way her red hair had formed perfect curls. “She seems a little strict but she’s a good teacher.”
“Well, that’s always good I suppose.”
From there, Kate seemed to become disinterested in the professor, instead moving on to discuss a cute girl she’d seen in her programming class. You’d asked more questions but the pair of you knew Kate would never do anything about any crush she had, she would get far too nervous and stumble over all of her words any time she tried to talk to anyone. Many times you’d watched her fail to flirt with someone drunkly at a party, accidentally blurting out something stupid that caused the other person to turn away. Each time you’d end up giving her a pat on the back and assuring her she’d get the next one, both of you secretly knowing it probably wasn’t true. Nevertheless, it was fun to fantasise about cute people you saw on campus and Kate often liked to share all the things she’d like to do with someone if she could actually talk to them.
Your conversation slowly passed on to other things, talking over activities you both did over summer, but sooner than you’d like, the time came for you to both head to your next classes. You both packed up your things, tidying away your lunch trays before heading out of the dining hall and across campus, Kate giving you a very dramatic goodbye before disappearing into her coding class and you slipped away to criminology, some part of your mind still clinging on to the idea of alabaster skin and perfect red curls.
———
The semester kicked off quickly and before you knew it, you were already three weeks in. Your time had been spent flitting between your classes, keeping consistent with your notes and readings. That fresh term feeling still resided within you, positivity and interest radiating through you in each of your courses. Though your creative writing class remained your favourite, your new Russian elective had quickly climbed the charts to take spot number two. Something about the language simply drew you in, perhaps how different it was to English, but every class seemed to suck you in entirely and leave you eagerly awaiting the next one.
Through Kate’s complaining, you were exceedingly glad that you didn’t pick her programming class, the professor apparently loading far too much work on his students. Though, you were never sure how much of the complaints could simply be down to Kate’s dramatics. The pair of you continued to spend your free moments in each other’s company, talking over every meal and studying in the library. You made the most of the disappearing sun, basking in the last of the summer warmth on the campus lawn, your head stuck in a book while Kate napped next to you.
You’d also easily picked up your part time job once more, the manager of the campus coffee shop reminded of your hard work the past three years. The job itself was usually rather tiring, filling up your weekends and free mornings, but it paid for your food so you knew it was a necessity. Thankfully, the lingering warmth had meant the shop had remained rather quite so far, not too many people racing for a hot coffee while the sun still shone down from above. Your experience however, let you know that in just another few weeks, you’d have to pick up the pace and things would get increasingly harder as the temperature began to drop. Yet, for now you basked in the calmness that the summer brought. But one person in particular seemed determined to change that.
Kate stumbled around the room, grabbing different outfits from the closet and trying them on, before deciding they were no good and tossing them on to the floor. She’d never been a very quiet person getting ready, usually singing along to whatever band she found interesting that month, but at that exact moment, you wished she’d sometimes find a slightly calmer routine.
Your head hurt, most likely from dehydration. It had been a long afternoon shift at the coffee shop and it seemed summer was giving everyone one grand goodbye, bringing the temperatures soaring and consequently, leaving you with a very sweaty shift. Now you were back in the dorm, showered and in some light pjs, hoping to finally get started on the work you’d been thinking about all day. But someone seemed destined to distract you. Your eyes fell to Kate, desperately trying to find a top to match the current skirt she was wearing. “I hope you’re gonna clean that up,” you said, glancing at the mess of clothes on the floor.
“‘Course I will,” Kate replied, pulling another top from a drawer. “Ugh, why does nothing look right!”
You glanced once again to the girl, taking in her current appearance. “Wear the silver top,” you said nonchalantly.
Kate began rummaging in the drawer, knowing what you had meant and what to look for. She pulled the top out and tried it on, looking at herself in the mirror and letting out a pleased hum. “Looks good, thanks.”
She passed you a grateful smile and you simply passed one in return, merely thankful that she’d stopped making such a fuss while you were trying to work. Your body turned back towards your desk, eyes falling back on to the open notebook in front of you.
“I really can’t convince you to come tonight?” Kate’s voice whined as she touched up her makeup in the mirror. “It’s always super boring without you.”
“I told you already,” you replied, not looking up from your notes. “I can’t go to a party, I have to study.”
Kate sighed loudly. “What are you even studying for? It’s only the third week!”
“My Russian class. I have a test on Monday.”
Your roommate blew a gust of air from her mouth, the repel evident. “You still have all of tomorrow to study.”
“You’re right, I do. And I intend to use all the time I have.”
Despite still looking at your notes, you could see the eye roll Kate gave you. “Whatever, loser,” she called, grabbing a bag to take with her. From behind, you could hear her pulling on a pair of heels, which would probably end up in her hands before the night was done. “I’ll try be quite coming in,” she said, reaching for the door.
“Keys?”
“Shit.”
The noise of scrambling filled the dorm once more as Kate rummaged about in her backpack for her set of keys, an item so frequently forgotten about. You heard them jingle in her hands before being slipped into her purse. Then, she said her actual goodbyes and slid out of the room, finally leaving you to study in peace. You released a relieved sigh as silence fell back over the room and you allowed your eyes to scan the Russian letters and grammar scribbled out across your paper. Whatever party Kate was venturing to that night, it wouldn’t be the thing to keep you from studying, your mind entirely focused on the terminologies written in your notes and determined to commit every piece of it to memory, no matter how long it took.
———
Natasha loved her job, truly she did. In fact, she’d given up her career of lawyering to begin teaching, something about it always drawing her in. But one part about her job that she didn’t enjoy as much, was marking papers. Although it was an integral part of her role as a professor, it seemed marking always held tedium in the never-ending correcting of answers and decoding of illiterate handwriting.
A low sigh escaped her lips as Natasha circled yet another grade atop of a paper, a red ‘D’ followed by a smaller ‘62%’. It wasn’t a surprise to her that most of the grades were on the lower side, especially for her introductory class, the highest so far reigning at a 73. It always took new students a while to get used to the new alphabet and syntax that Russian carried, their grades reflecting that sometimes up until the midterm. Papers like this were Natasha’s least favourite to grade, constantly having to mark down corrections for spellings or grammar, and usually taking up more of her time than she’d like.
The smell in the kitchen at least worked to brighten up her mood, the soft aroma of a home cooked meal fluttering straight from her nose and down to her anticipating stomach. Wanda always loved to cook and each night Natasha loved coming home to eat whatever she’d stirred up for that night. Her wife dotted around the stove top as Natasha sat across the breakfast bar, two stacks of papers sat next to her. Her mind was hoping by the time she was finished marking, Wanda would have dinner ready and the two could finally relax for the night.
Determined to get finished, Natasha reached for another paper on the stack, briefly brushing over the student’s name before beginning her marking. The usual first questions went expectingly well, but as the test slipped into slightly trickier territory, it seemed the common errors that Natasha had grown so used to seeing, were entirely absent. As each question progressed, Natasha found herself becoming continually bewildered at the perfect answers provided on the paper. At the very end, flipping over the last sheet of paper on to the counter, she lowered her eyebrows in confusion. “Huh.”
Wanda’s head raised from where it sat looking down at a pan, now gazing over at her wife with an inquisitive look. “What is it?”
Not answering immediately, Natasha flipped through the test once again, looking over the many check marks next to every question. Slightly confused, she closed the paper, looking up to meet her wife’s eye. “Some student just got a hundred percent. Like, a perfect score.”
Now it was Wanda’s turn to look a little shocked, her brows raising as she leaned across the counter. “You think it’s legit?”
Natasha shrugged, the scenario playing in her mind. “I mean, I monitored everyone whilst they took it. Nobody looked to be cheating.”
The taller redhead let out an almost amused hum. “Impressive. What’s this outstanding student’s name?”
The paper flicked back to the front cover, Natasha’s eyes flitting over the name scribbled on the top of the sheet in neat handwriting. “Y/N Y/L/N.”
Natasha’s mind searched its archives for any mentions of the name, its presence feeling familiar on her tongue. She fell back to taking attendance, specifically on the first day of class. The name had rung out in the hall and a small voice had picked up to answer it. Natasha remembered her amusement at the English accent she’d heard radiating across the room, originating from a young girl in a pretty summer dress near the front row. It seemed some part of her mind had locked in the gentle smile that accompanied such a sweet voice.
"Cute name," Wanda hummed, moving to stir her pot before her recipe could burn.
"Yeah..." Natasha's eyes remained on the sheet in front of her, scanning over the name and conjuring images of the face that matched with it. "I just don't know how she could have done this perfectly." Her fingers flipped through the pieces of paper, eyes scanning the work written in black ink. "I mean, everything is exactly how is should be. Even her cyrillic is written neatly."
Wanda let out a low hum as she continued fussing about with the stovetop, her answer coming out rather nonchalant. "Maybe she's in the wrong class? Was supposed to enroll in one of your others at a higher level?"
The proposal had already flashed across Natasha's mind, the work in front of her seemingly too good for someone of beginner status. There was always something wrong, some letter they'd missed or some word in the wrong order, it was never this perfect. Her mind had scoured back to previous years, trying to remember if she'd taught her before, but the name sounded too unfamiliar, and besides, she would have recalled that distinctive cute accent that this certain student possessed. "Maybe," Natasha replied finally, turning back the paper to the front. "But I don't see why she wouldn't have swapped out already. I mean, she would have had to have noticed by now, right?"
Wanda licked the small spoon in her hand, tasting her dish before tossing the metal away into the sink. It always amazed Natasha just how much of a multitasker her wife could be. Still adding things to her meal, Wanda tossed a comment over her shoulder. "Well, there's only one way to find out. Talk to her."
The idea washed over Natasha, already present in her own mind. The curiosity of the situation was pulling her in, already wanting to know more about this mystery student. As she thought of the girl in her head, more interest seemed to curate within her. Seeing that adorable smile she'd caught each time she'd called attendance, hearing that charming little accent that followed her name being called, something about it all drew her further in than one may expect, in ways perhaps unrelated to the test in front of her. Excitement and curiosity brewing in her, Natasha looked up to smile at her wife. "I think I will."
———
Today was not a good day for you. Not only had you forgotten your water bottle back in the dorm, but it was also the first day of the semester you’d be receiving back a test. It was only a small one, one that wouldn’t dent your final grade enough to matter, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t spent hours studying for it. You should have known that the peaceful calm that followed the start of term wouldn’t last forever, but it seemed every year the reality of things slipped your mind and you suddenly felt the anxiety crashing down on your shoulders a few weeks in.
Aside from a small introductory piece you’d had to write for creative writing, this was your first proper assessment of the year. As you sat in the lecture hall, waiting for class to begin, your mind flooded over everything you’d done to prepare, the hours of studying you’d put in, thinking back to the questions and if there was anything you could have possibly misread. Your foot tapped quickly against the floor as you pondered the possibility of a bad grade, particularly the berating that would follow from your family if they ever found out. You tried your best to settle your anxiety as the minutes ticked by, assuring yourself that you’d put in all the effort you could, a good grade surely waiting for you after all your hard work. But when the doors to the hall opened and your professor walked in, the pit in your stomach only dropped further.
“Morning everyone,” Professor Romanoff called out, briefly glancing across the class. In her hands you could spy the laptop she usually carried, alongside the stack of test papers you’d be receiving back very shortly. Your heart continued to beat in your chest as attendance was taken, voice slightly shaky when it came time for your name to be called.
“Right,” the redheaded woman said, closing down her laptop after finishing the register. She reached for the stack of papers in her desk as she stood, moving towards the front of the class and looking out. “As I said, these tests are mostly just a baseline to let me know you’re all on track. Though, if you are failing, maybe come see me and we can have a chat about why.”
With that, Professor Romanoff began towards the class, calling out names and passing out tests. You tried not to look as she walked up the isle next to you, the first time close enough to touch. Mostly, your eyes remained on the desk in front of you, mind reeling at the possibility of failing. You wouldn’t fail, right? You’d studied for hours.
“Miss Y/L/N?”
A low voice brought your head up from its position, mind dragged from your thoughts and thrust back into the present moment. Your eyes raised to see your professor suddenly stood in front of you, her stare focused upon your face.
“Yes?”
A tight expression appeared on the redhead’s face, almost a smile but not quite reaching her eyes. Her fingers slid your test paper back towards you, face down against the desk. Your eyes flickered down to it before returning to her gaze. “See me after class, please.”
If there were any words you wanted to say, your throat tightened to prevent them from escaping. Before you could even comprehend what she had said, Professor Romanoff was already moving on towards the next student. Your eyes followed her momentarily, then darted back towards your upturned test. You failed, your mind screamed at you. You must have failed.
Tentative fingers reached out towards the paper, your heart preparing for the first ‘F’ ever written on one of your tests. You were already thinking about how you’d have to explain this to your parents, how you’d let it settle within yourself. The paper flipped over, the red writing of your grade distinct at the top of the first page, but when your eyes fluttered over to it, they did not find what they had been expecting mere moments before. Instead of a giant ‘F’ like you’d been anticipating, the paper held a large ‘A’ on the front, then beside it, in a smaller circle, a 100% mark.
Your eyes almost couldn’t believe what they were seeing, mind more relieved than any time you could remember. Almost at once, your body had relaxed, that small smile appearing on your lips like it always did when you did well. You hadn’t failed at all, in fact, you’d done the complete opposite. Maybe this day wasn’t going as bad as you had anticipated. But then you remembered your professor’s words.
See her after class? What could that possibly mean? Your mind suddenly became erratic again, the anxiety taking control and catastrophizing every possible scenario. You were unsure how you felt with the idea of spending time alone with Professor Romanoff, suddenly worried she may have the ability to read minds and would be able to tell how much your mind had floated back to her face over the past few weeks.
The thoughts in your head were so loud you didn’t notice when your professor first began going on the test. It was only by question four you’d caught on, suddenly snapping back to reality and trying desperately to join back in with the class seamlessly. It seemed, however, that your mind still couldn’t concentrate, entirely focused on the conversation the red-haired woman in front of you had requested to have.
Your eyes fluttered around the room, glancing at the other students to perhaps gage how everyone else had done on the test. Briefly, they fell upon the desk next to you, spying the ‘56%’ scribbled on to the top of the test paper that sat there. When your eyes raised to the girl it belonged it, she passed you a quick scowl, making an eye to the perfect score that sat in front of you. Feeling far too seen, your eyes snapped back to your own paper, hoping that said girl knew you weren’t at all judging, though by her face, it seemed those were her exact thoughts. For the rest of the lesson you vowed to keep your eyes glued to your own paper, too scared of what they might find in the faces of those around you.
Eventually, your professor’s words began to drown out, overtaken by the lingering anxiety clouding your mind. Before you knew it, you’d spent the entire hour stuck inside your head, rethinking every possible scenario that could possibly occur after class. Now, you were forced to face the reality as Professor Romanoff dismissed the class, requesting papers be returned to her before anyone left.
You watched from your chair as a line of students all placed their papers in a stack on the side of the wooden desk. Slowly, you began to pack away your things into your bag, trying not to draw attention to yourself any more than necessary. When you stood, you clutched your test close to your chest, hiding the score away from anyone who might have passed you a look any similar to the girl previously sat beside you.
As the line of students dwindled down, all turning to leave the lecture room, you slowly approached the desk at the centre of the room. The last of your class let the doors swing closed behind them just as you reached the wooden surface, leaving you in the room entirely alone with your professor. You watched her from behind as she wiped the chalkboard clean, erasing away any remnants of the previous lesson.
The air felt so thick you could choke on it. Your mind told you to make yourself known, clear your throat or something, but it seemed you were almost frozen in place. Only when Professor Romanoff finally turned, did you even move at all.
“Ah, Miss Y/L/N.”
The woman dusted her hands against each other as she began to close the gap between the two of you. Both of your eyes met each other, her gaze locking on to yours as she walked back towards her desk and sat down on the edge of it. You swallowed harshly as you danced on the balls of your feet, your irrational thought of mind reading suddenly coming back to you. But Professor Romanoff didn’t say anything towards the sort, instead, simply extended her hand out towards you, palm facing up to the ceiling.
“Oh, right,” you stumbled, handing over the test paper which she had just previously been looking at. It was slightly crumpled from being pressed to your body but the woman seemingly took no notice, simply glancing over it before returning it to the pile of others on her desk, a low hum escaping from her lips.
When her eyes turned back to meet yours, you suddenly noticed how green they were, never having been so close as to regard them before. Blazing emerald gazed back at you as your heart pounded in your chest.
“This is a very good paper, Miss Y/L/N. I’ve never had a student get a perfect mark on one of my tests before.”
As Professor Romanoff’s voice caught your ears, your heartbeat only seemed to quicken its pace. Something in her gaze felt scrutinising, the small curt smile on her lips enough to practically drag your next words out from your mouth.
“I-I didn’t cheat if that’s what you think. I swear.”
It was spilling out before you could stop it really, words tumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to plead your case. That had been the conclusion you’d drawn from this scenario, the reason you’d been asked to stay back in the first place. But to your surprise, Professor Romanoff simply raised a skeptical brow. “I never said you cheated, did I?”
Suddenly you felt very warm, like the wonderful AC you always gushed about had instantaneously disappeared. “No-I just-I-I mean-“
The words tumbled from your mouth, barely coherent. They were quickly silenced when Professor Romanoff raised a hand, passing you a look you couldn’t quite decipher.
“I don’t think you cheated, Y/N,” the professor said after a moment, lowering her hand once more. “I’m just curious as to how you achieved such a high score.”
You felt a little stupid, mind too ahead of itself like always and blurting out the first thing it thought of without even thinking properly. Professor Romanoff’s words washed over you and you picked up on the question present, thinking over your answer briefly before shrugging your shoulders. “I just studied, I guess.”
That perfectly sculpted brow raised once more. “Studied?” Professor Romanoff seemed to look you up and down, gazing at the way you picked at your nail beds anxiously. You stopped immediately when she seemed to notice, instead moving to hold your hands behind your back. The professor moved her eyeline back up to you once more, a curious expression now taking over her face. “Have you taken Russian before?”
You shook your head. “No.”
Professor Romanoff let out a low sigh, adjusting herself on the table where she sat. She was once again wearing a pair of fitted slacks and polished heels, partnered today with a short-sleeved white blouse. From this distance, you could tell the material was silk. You tried not to stare at the woman’s exposed arms as the came to cross against her chest, and more importantly, at the slight cleavage on show that now pressed higher as she moved.
“It’s highly unlikely for a beginner to get a perfect score on a test,” your professor said, eyes meeting yours. “Especially so early on.” The air seemed to grow thicker as the redhead leaned in closer towards you, her gaze narrowing ever so slightly. “So if you’re lying to me, sweetheart, I’d appreciate if you didn’t.”
The name hung heavy in the air, hammering at your lungs as you stood under the woman’s scrutinising gaze. Suddenly, you felt warmer, your heart rate picking up even more as the words of defense began to stumble from your mouth once again. “I-I swear I’ve never taken it before. I-I just-“ You swallowed harshly, trying to regain some of your composure. "I looked at the syllabus over summer and maybe taught myself some of the basic concepts is all. And I did some extra reading, but I just wanted to be prepared! I haven't actually done Russian properly before, I promise. I-I just-"
Professor Romanoff raised her hand once more, silencing your stuttering. "It’s alright, milaya," she said, a small smile now spreading across her lips. "Calm down." The Russian was recognised by your ears but not your mind, left untranslated in the conversation as the redhead continued to talk. "You’re not in any trouble. I was just curious"
The gentleness of your professor's voice was enough to settle you down, suddenly feeling foolish for blurting out like you had. You took a moment to breath, looking down at your feet as they swayed you back and forth. "Right," you said, voice now quiet in the near-empty room.
When your eyeline raised to Professor Romanoff once again, she was still looking back at you with that gentle smile, her eyes soft under the light. After a moment of her gaze on you, she released a small sigh, reaching back to place a hand on your test that sat at the top of the pile. "This is very good test, though," she said, nodding her head towards you. "You should be proud of yourself."
The praise washed over you in a wave of warmth, spreading across your cheeks and down the back of your neck. It wasn't often you received recognition for your work, it certainly never being enough back home, so you never really learned how to properly cope with it without your face embarrassingly heating up and a dopey smile appearing on your lips. You tried your best to hide these now, looking back at the redhead in front of you. "Thank you, professor."
The woman smiled, unbothered by the way your fingers had moved to begin fidgeting with the zip of your hoodie, desperate to find something to distract your flurried mind. "I assume you have another class to get to, Miss Y/L/N?" Professor Romanoff stood up, now looking down on you from a few inches above, her heels adding even more height so that you had to slightly raise your head from where it had been to look up at her.
Your head nodded. "Uhm, yes I do."
The redhead began to collect the papers that sat on the side, adjusting them into an orderly pile. From behind the desk, she smiled over at you. "Well then, hurry along. I wouldn't want to make you late."
Your head nodded again, more frantically this time. "Of course." You adjusted the backpack on your shoulders before turning away, headed towards the door to your right, but before you could reach it, Professor Romanoff's voice called out again.
"And Y/N?"
You turned quickly, facing her desk once more with an awaiting expression. The woman met your eye, the smile on her lips different now, almost what one could mistake as a smirk. She looked over at you as she said, "Keep up the good work."
For the third time, you nodded, feeling yourself heating up again. "I will," you replied, smiling sheepishly. "Thank you again, professor." And with that, you turned and reached for the door, rejoining the rest of the world with a blush on your cheeks. As you headed towards the exit of the building and on towards your next class, your mind tried desperately to think about anything other than the way your professor’s arms had looked pressed against her chest, or more noticeably, how sweet the nicknames she had called you felt upon your ears.
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sycamorelibrary754 · 7 months
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Forts, Fruit Snacks, & Flying
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Summary: How will Natasha react when she sees the footage of your daughter’s high flying escapades with Peter while you two were in Paris celebrating your anniversary?
Pairings: Natasha x reader, Yelena, Kate, Peter x reader (platonic).
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 800
Warnings: None 
A/N: @togrowoldinv suggested a fic where Natasha finds out about Mila’s flying with Peter in We’re a Family. This can also be read as a stand-alone story. I hope you enjoy it! 
It was Wednesday afternoon. You and Natasha had been home for almost two weeks. Your anniversary in Paris now a cherished memory for both of you. You had gone back to work, and Nat, despite her semi-retirement, had been at the compound for the last three days training a couple of new recruits.
The meeting you were in was running long, and you were starting to worry about who was going to pick up Mila from preschool. You knew Nat wasn’t available for at least another two hours, so you text your sister-in-law.
You: Hey Yelena, I’m stuck at work and Nat is training recruits until 5 pm. Is there any way you can pick up Mila from preschool and bring her home? We should be home around 5:30 p.m. 
Yelena: No problem! Peter, Kate Bishop, and I just finished an outreach event at the library. We’re only a couple blocks from her school. 
You: Thank you! You’re the best sister-in-law ever. Tell Kate and Peter I say thank you as well. We’ll see you in a bit. 
Mila had just picked up her purple unicorn backpack from her cubby when she caught sight of Yelena, Kate, and Peter by the door. 
“Surprise, little spider!! We’re here to pick you up”, Yelena exclaimed. 
“Where’s Mommy and Mama?” Mila asked, hugging the trio. 
“They’ll be home soon. Meanwhile, we get to go home and play. What do you say?”
“Yay!”
*^~^*
After arriving home and getting Mila a snack, your daughter decided she wanted to build a blanket fort. Following some expert engineering, the four sat down inside the fort eating Welch’s Fruit Snacks.
Mila lokoed over at Peter, “Did you bring your flying suit with you?”
“Oh, not today, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”
Your little girl looks like she's about to cry when Kate interjects. “Mila, do you want to see the video of you flying with Peter when you stayed with us? I have it on my phone.”
She nods, and Kate tosses the video to the AirPlay on your big-screen TV. At that very moment, you and Natasha walked in the front door. Natasha’s eyes go wide as she takes in the 4k footage of your five-year-old daughter flying through the air on Spider-Man’s back, as Mila runs up to hug you. 
“What the hell?!” Natasha shouted.
“Mama said a bad word,” your daughter tattled, pointing at Nat. 
“Yeah, sweetie, that was a bad word… Why don’t we go unpack your backpack?” you suggested as your little girl ran to you.
“Don’t kill him”, you said with a smirk and a hand on her shoulder as you walk by with Mila in your arms.
Natasha is staring Peter down with a look that he’s only seen on missions. “Okay, I know what you’re thinking, Nat— Ms. Black Widow, um, Romanoff. But she was safe the entire time. I would never drop her. We put pillows down on the floor, and she had a blast.” Peter asserted.
“Peter, shut up,” Kate whispered.
“Good advice,” Nat remarked, taking a step toward Peter.
“Come on sestra, you know we did fun things like that all the time back in Ohio.” Yelena reasoned. 
She is about to give it to Peter when she catches sight of her daughter’s face on the screen. 
“Wee!! Faster, Uncle Peter!” Mila giggled.
Natasha’s heart melts at the sight of her carefree and happy little girl. Exactly how she always hoped Mila would grow up. She looked back at Peter without breaking her best Black Widow poker face.
“I have two things to say to you. One—never do that again unless she is in mortal danger, or you will be the one in mortal danger. Two—can you send me that video?”
“… I’m sorry, what?” Peter asks.
“Can you send me that video? I want it for her baby book.”
A look of relief washes over Peter’s face. “Oh, sure. Umm, Kate has it.” Peter said, pointing at the young archer. 
Kate nods and sends Nat the video, her phone pinging in confirmation. 
“Thanks, and thank you for picking up Mila today. Would you three like to stay for dinner?”
“Sure, that would be great”, Yelena responded.
Nat walked away leaving the three young Avengers standing in the living room. 
“Dude, you’re sweating,” Kate giggled.
“You don’t need to be afraid of her, she isn’t as scary as she looks,” Yelena said. 
“Really?”
“No, she could kill you in two seconds. But look on the bright side, she didn’t. That means she likes you!” Patting Peter on the back. 
“Awesome,” Peter squeaked.
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its-really-dry · 2 years
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y/n to the camera: nat saying shes not a lesbian is SEVERELY ✨homophobic✨ *does magic hands*
nat from across the room: all i said was that i wasn't gonna kiss you, because you, kate and pietro just ate MUD!
y/n: *turns back to the camera* ......... see? ........ ✨homophobic✨ *does magic hands again*
wanda in the background: PIETRO WHAT THE HELL DID I TELL YOU ABOUT EATING DIRT FROM THE GARDEN!? *runs after him*
yelena: KATE BISHOP YOU ARE GOING TO CATCH MEASLES! *follows*
clint: those kids are probably the reason covid now exists *sighs*
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