#natasha romanov
luuvcore · 4 hours
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🕷 redroom!natasha romanoff x fem!reader
— you’ve completed every step into being a widow. you just have to get through the original.
— redroom!natasha, mirror s*x, dom!natasha, sub!fem!reader, str*p-on, hate s*x, jealous!natasha
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"i don't like her." nat blatantly states, looking at your file. "why? because she's a better version of you?" yelena jokes. nat glares at her. "i think she has potential," melina says, "give her a chance." "i'm going to ask dreykov his thoughts. he actually has a say in all this." nat throws your file at yelena, her quickly catching it. "someone's mad."
"i honestly think she could be a second you." romanoff closes her eyes, huffing at his response. "dreykov, i undersand she's doing better than all the other girls in here, but she isn't ready. might i add, she hasn't killed anyone yet." "you didn't either. she's a mini you, romanoff." she bites her tongue at the thought of you being a 'mini her'. she practically gags. "i'll put her to the test."
"is there a reason you called me here, ms. romanoff?" you ask. your body trembles out of nervousness. anything you say could effect your future. "yes. i heard you were doing good. you've been here since you were 10, now a full-grown adult. you've improved, pupil." you smile. "thank you, ms. romanoff." "it's natasha." "well, it was nice talking with you, ms .natasha." you begin to walk to the door. "i never said i was done." you turn your head to her. "but i didn't like how many times i have heard that you would be my mini-me. how many times people have said that you're the better me." she stalks over to you. "you will never amount to me. do you understand that?" you nod your head. "speak!" "yes! i understand." "i don't think you do."
"look at yourself." natasha bottoms herself in you, quickly pounding into you again. "fucking look at yourself." your pants fog up the mirror. "fuck!" you whine. "who are you?" "i'm your pupil." "who owns you?" she smacks your ass. "you do, ms. widow." "damn right." "please! i'm gonna-" "do it." natasha thrusts into you one more time until your arousal covers the false c*ck. your chest heaves. "if i ever hear about you, it will be worse." natasha throws the strap to the side, leaving you a panting sweating mess. "i understand, ms. widow."
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riedswifts · 3 months
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Warnings : smut, barley plot, oral (f receiving), praise, slight size kink, desk sex, slight breeding, fingering, steve has a bit of a mouth, fluff (at the end ), some dumbification.
Summary : you and steve seem to have a mix of tensions and the top one being hate, but a night alone in the tower shows what the real problem is.
Word count: 2.8k
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Everyone had left out with their significant others, or friends or family. Nat had begged you to come but you kindly declined. Being on a long-standing mission, and nearly being on the brink of death literally- being an assassin and hanging off a building by a falling building is tiring. You also weren’t expecting some things and were worn out to the max.
You were under the impression everyone had left. Except Jarvis of course but that was a computer system. So you had no reason to wear full clothes and being a trained assassin leaves you in shape so you thought you’d be fine. Leaving your personal huge room in nothing but a black widow t-shirt and a pair of panties, no bra either, you just explored the tower in its glory during the night hours.
It was stunning to say the least and not to brag but you had one of the best views. Tony made sure your room had a floor to ceiling window with a space in it to go on the balcony that overlooked the city’s lights. It was payment in a way, you had nearly died saving his life quite a few times and even if he didn’t admit it you were his favorite on the team.
You had decided that you would go out on the very ledge thor and loki fought on. You had quickly snagged a bottle of any alcohol you could snag without stopping and made your way outside. You sat near the ledge but not fully on it. Your ankles hanging off the edge as you sat with your legs stretched out.
You held up the bottle and glanced at it ‘Daviun vodka’ you didn’t care for brands but this one seemed ok and the flavor was watermelon. So you popped off the top and set it beside you as you rested back on your elbows taking a swig and staring at the bottle after before shrugging with a satisfied hum.
You just relaxed not registering the sound of someone getting closer. It was a rare moment when you let your guard down but after all you had asked JARVIS prior to this if any one was here and the damn shit said no. Someone stood behind you and you slightly stiffened.
Without moving you acted clueless before in seconds you stood up and stunned the person as you broke the handle off the vodka and managed to flip them over onto their back holding the jagged edge to their throat. Bored blue eyes stared back at you with the upmost annoyed face.
You scoffed standing up completely forgetting your attire. You didn’t bother sticking your hand out to help him up, you just grabbed the bottle and started walking inside. You heard him scoff in disbelief but you didn’t care, he was a grade A dick after all- only to you- that was.
“Why are you here? Have no friends to go out with?” He asked trailing you inside. You rolled your eyes making a dramatic annoyance sound. “Do you?“ You shot back, it was a fifth grade response but you didn’t care in the slightest.
“Fifth grade response, Cute.” He said sarcastically and you with to cut his beard off and his throat but tony and natasha agreed no killing the super solider. stupid rules.
“What do you want steve?” You asked putting the bottle back, you started walking and made an abrupt turn into the small room. The one where everyone had sat and watched as they replayed a video of wanda accidentally destroying a building and killing people. It was empty, lights off, chairs pushed in.
You always came to watch TV in here because the projected screen was cooler to you. After all you didn’t have electronics until you escaped the red room with natasha. Steve still followed you in there but you ignored him as you picked up the projector remote.
Sitting on the table you slid back leaving from your knees down hanging off the table as he grumbled that you were ignoring him. “Do you have anything better to do than I don’t know..annoy me?” You asked rolling your eyes.
His eyes seemed to finally take in your appearance and you had neglected the fact that your nipples would poke through the thin t-shirt due to the coldness. His eyes darkened for a moment before he sharply directed his state to the screen. “Just genuinely curious as to what a looser like you decided to do when they’re alone.”
Your head snapped in his direction. “Oh fuck off steve.” You scoffed. Deciding to press play on the movie but before you could the remote was snatched out of your hand and you glared at him as he tossed it aside.
He stood right in front of you and you scooted backwards. Your eyes narrow in on him as he licked his lips running a hand over his beard. “What’s your fucking problem?” You asked extremely annoyed your night was ruined by the captain himself.
Though there was the faint throb between your legs that made you wanna stab your eyes out, how dare your own body betray you like that.
After the question left your mouth his eyes snapped back up to yours. His hair was slightly slicked back but looked like he had laid down in it because a few pieces had fell out. He paused staring at you making you slightly shiver. He saw the way your thighs slightly shifted to squeeze, the way your nipples poked through the thing t-shirt. He could faintly see the lace of your panties, he stared at you for a long moment.
Suddenly he grabbed your Ankle pulling you forward making you slid until you were right in front of him a mere inch from his nose as his hands rested on either side of you. “You see, my problem is, i can’t decide if i hate your guts or maybe it’s the frustration of not being able to rearrange them.”
Your eyebrows raised as your breathing sped up a bit. His eyes swapped between your eyes and lips, then they locked on your eyes maintaining eye contact as you felt the coldness of his avengers ring against your knee.
“Well then, maybe that’s a theory we need to test out.” You said as his hand slid up more leaving a trail of goosebumps before gripping your leg tightly. He smirked at how reactive you were to his touch.
He hummed before leaving you curious as he removed his hands. Suddenly they where on the curves on your ass pushing you flush against him, as if it was natural your legs spread allowing the bulge in his pants to press right against your now dampened panties.
Your back arched as you looked up at him and his lips crashed into yours, it wasn’t passionate, and soft- no. It was bruising, full of dominance and emotion. Obviously the fight for domination still stood and as an assassin you weren’t gonna give up.
However when his hands gripped your hips and rolled your hips against his you let out an involuntary humiliating moan. That allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth and when he squeezed your ass he let you know, he had won.
You pulled away from him to breathe as you guys started at each other panting. His forehead came to rest against yours before laying you on the empty mahogany desk. He kissed you again bruising like as your hands started to wonder you tugged at his shirt and without disconnecting his lips from yours he took it off.
His hands slid up under your shirt cupping your breast and ran his thumbs over the hardened peaks. When your back arched it caused you to accidentally grind against him and this time you both moaned. He bit your lip before letting it go and kissing down your neck.
He sucked and bit making sure to suck each piece of smooth skin he could find. One of his hands pulled out from your shirt and cupped the back of your neck pulling you up before he pulled the shirt swiftly over your head.
He stared at you for a moment. “God, you’re stunning.” He whispered and before you could comprehend what was going on his mouth had latched on to your nipple sucking and slightly biting it making you moan.
He laid you back down and your mind fogged as you unbuckled his belt. However before you could do more he had grabbed both of your hands stopping his attacks on your boobs.
He pulled both your arms above your head and smirked down at your face, you looked stunning. Hair spread out and marks forming on your neck stopping above your breast. Your lips were swollen and bruised. He adored this sight.
God, he wish he had figured this out sooner, that instead of bitching he just actually fucked you. He didn’t think he’d find anything more addicting after seeing you in this state.
He kissed down your body stopping at the hem of your panties and deciding he was to impatient he tore them off making you whine. “i’ll buy you new ones.” He muttered as he got on his knees hooking his arms around your thighs. His hand pushing your stomach down.
You shivered as you felt the cold air of the tower directly on your bare pussy. Without a warning he shoved his face between your legs licking from your hole to your clit, the sensation made you gasp as your back arched.
Steve groaned hearing the words fall out of your mouth. His tongue switched from sucking your clit to dipping his tongue in and out of you making you squirm. He looked up at you mouth and chin coated in slick. “Do not move your hands.”
Your brows furrowed as you continued to pant. “Wh-mmhh.” Your words turned into a soft moan when you felt one of his thick fingers slide in and bottom out. Your eyes pinched shut and your back arched off the table.
His other finger slid in as well and you tried to close your legs but he pulled them further apart. He watched your expression as he pulled them out almost fully before slamming them back in and curling them. He groaned and nearly came in his pants at the sight of you.
“Such a good girl for me.” He muttered before attaching his lips to your clit again and sucked on it whilst moving his fingers in and out. He Felt you tighten around him and couldn’t wait to see how you feel on his cock.
You were panting and babbling words of his name and please. What really sent you over the edge is when he sucked your clit with his teeth grazing it as he pumped his fingers harder curling them as your fingers locked him in.
Your orgasm crashed over you making your mind fog and your head limp to the side as pathetic whimpers left your plump and less swollen lips. He didn’t seem to care much that you had came all over his face because he kept sucking and licking up every last bit of cum.
You panted as you reached for his pants trying to tug them down as you recovered from your orgasm. When steve had finally freed his cock you assumed your face said it all because his chuckle was dark, taunting like.
He parted your legs again and you tried to close them but he roughly grabbed them pulling you closer to him but you let out a whimper when his huge side rubbed against your sensitive clit.
He made a mock frown face at you. “C’mon now sweetheart, be a good girl and take it for me, hmm?” He said as he massaged your breast with one hand and stroked himself. You nodded now desperate as the ache returned between your legs.
He let the tip slip in and he saw your face completely washed with pleasure. Brows furrowed, parted mouth, marks fully developed, and sweat beading your forehead. Without warning he pushed the rest of his way in and you gasp as he groaned.
You were used to sex of course you’ve had sex before but nobody was this big before. The intrusion felt good but the small sting was there lingering but it only added to the pleasure. “If you don’t stop squeezing’ me i’m gonna fucking cum.”
You relaxed around him and he groaned in relief. You felt more heavenly then he ever could’ve thought. He leaned down and captured your lips with his before thrusting with force and when he lifted one of your legs higher and he lifted your hips your eyes rolled back when he hit the spot that had you screaming his name.
“Look at you.” He said panting as he continued to thrust. “Takin it like such a good fucking girl.” With each word his thrust got harder and it made the breath get caught in your throat.
You grabbed his face kissing him harshly and he moaned into your mouth fueling the tightening in your lower stomach already. Suddenly he dropped you legs pushing them on the desk making them bend as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
His thrust slowed to deep strokes. “You feel me, hmm?” He said and you moaned when he hit the spot inside you that had you babbling like a dumb person. Suddenly you felt the most unexplainable feeling.
It was like the tightness got tighter but mixed with a load of pleasure. You whimpered at the feeling as steve pushed his hand down harder on your lower tummy. “you feel that.” he panted as he thrusted again. “That’s how deep i am inside of you…”
“ohmygodohmygod.” was all you could babble as he pressed harder making the coil tighten up. “Steve- i’m gonna-“ He shut you up by kissing you as the hand that was pressing the bulge moved to your clit. “Do it, be a good girl and cum all over my cock.” He whispered as his thrust did not slow down.
He suddenly put his other hand behind your neck making you look down at his cock slipping in and out of you. “fuck- you see that?” He said as he kept moving in and out. Your hand was holding his wrist as his hand was behind your neck.
“C’mon- fuck!.” Steve said when you clenched harder around him. “give it to me.” he muttered as you laid back down and his fingers pinched and rolled your clit and he rubbed in a fast motion causing the coil to snap, your orgasm rushing over you like a tidal wave.
You blanked out for a moment, as black spots filled your vision and you’re pretty sure you said steve more times than any avenger had over the past years. You were moaning, sweaty, dazed and fucked out. Just how he wanted.
You got pulled back down when he kept running you and you whined tryna pull away. “to much.” you muttered and he mocked a frown. “Awe is my baby to fucked out? Look at you all dumb and can barley speak a full sentence.” He said and you moaned as he hit your over worked spot.
“You gonna be a good girl and let me cum inside of you hmm? Gonna fill you all up.” He muttered and you nodded. “Please- please cum inside of me.” your voice was hoarse and he held onto you tightly as his head went to your neck and you felt his thrusts getting sloppy before you felt ropes of cum deep inside you.
His head laid on your chest arms your arms circled his shoulder both of you laying there while his hands wrapped around you. He was slowly moving his hips pushing the thick cum into you deeper.
“Mr. Rogers? are you alright your heart rate seems exceptionally high? You as well Miss.” Steve who was Resting between your bare breasts chuckled making you smile.
“Oh i see Mr. Stark and the rest of them have returned. They’re parking.” Jarvis said and steve looked at you lifting you up as he looked at the cum mess on the table.
“Jarvis how much time do we have?” you asked as steve held you legs wrapped around his waist and due to the serum it was easy for him to hold your short frame up with one hand.
“Well five minutes starting now.” You and steve chuckled as you hopped down and cleaned the cum mess and he gathered your guys clothes.
“Good?” You asked fixing the chairs and everything. Steve nodded and Held his arm out and you jumped up wrapping your legs around his waist as he snuck out the room and ran up the stairs to his floor and shut the door.
“Guys?! Did you guys murder each other?”
That was all you heard from downstairs, before you guys bursted into giggles.
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youseeingthis · 8 hours
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Scarlet Witch: Kneel before me
Nat: Don’t you dare
Y/n: But-
Steve: No!
Scarlet Witch tilts her head
Y/n falls to their knees
Nat: She’s trying to kill us!
Y/n: Yeah well she can kill me stand on me whatever she wants look at her!
Scarlet Witch: I think I’ll keep you for myself malysh
Y/n: Yes ma’am
Nat: alright well enjoy your new home I’m taking your room and all your secret snacks
Y/n: That’s fine I have a whole 5 course meal in front of me and I'm hungry
Tony: Why are you so horny??? Who gave you oysters?
Y/n: You know I don't like seafood
Scarlet Witch: I'm bored of this nonsense, come with me little one
Y/n: Bye guys I'll call you at Christmas! *Leaves with Scarlet*
Nat: What do I tell her family?!
Tony: She died in battle
Nat: Pretty morbid Tony
Steve shrugs: She made her choice
(Is this not what we'd all do in this situation?)
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purplehazed-h · 14 days
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based on this concept I had literally 4 days ago, endings a bit cheesy imo, but the alternative was too angsty - im too soft for princess!nat ugh - anyways, here u go! hope u like it <3
18+ content
summary: Natasha is a princess and heir to the throne and you're her lady-in-waiting.
contains: princess!nat x fem!reader, slight forbidden love trope, secret relationship, a sprinkle of friends to lovers, glimpse of angst, brief mention of blood, oral (reader receiving), thigh riding, and nat being sexy and protective <3
word count: 5k
WARNING: This fic has subtle hints of homophobia and brief mentions of death. If this makes you uncomfortable, don’t read this fic or proceed at your own risk!
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Natasha is distracted.
Usually, Steve never manages to even tap her with his sword; she’s usually the one to knock him down until he calls a truce. But today, her mind is someplace else.
Her gaze is distant, dancing around the training yard with a glazed-over film. Each swing of her sword is uncalculated, lousy, and nearly lifeless. Steve wonders why she even bothered asking him to practice, but he remains silent either way, watching as she steps away in evident aggravation.
You stand off to the side, watching from your peripheral as you quietly chat with a councilman. Your gaze drifts to Steve’s, eyes locking as he sends you a questioning look. You subtly shrug. 
Truthfully, you’re not sure what the cause of Nat’s evident frustration is. When you entered her bed chamber this morning, she had already been awake, standing in front of her mirror with a scowl etched across her face as she struggled with a single braid. 
As you silently helped her do her hair, you smiled, thinking back to the time she had asked you to teach her how to braid—
Steve was away, leaving Natasha to practice by herself. She didn’t mind practicing independently, but swinging a sword at a dummy or the crisp air felt useless. You could sense her frustration from afar, occasionally glancing up from your book to watch her pace in front of the dummy. You’re silently reading when she walks up to you, muddy boots kissing the hem of your dress.
Her cheeks are flushed and pink from the autumn weather, her lips red due to her habit of biting them in concentration. Her braided hair is tousled from the wind, loose strands sticking to her damp forehead and wet lips, swaying with each passing breeze.
“Will you be my partner for the day?” Her voice is low, gravely from the cold, yet comforting in familiarity. Your fingertips dig into the spine of your book as you draw in a steady breath, tilting your head as you speak, “I’m afraid my lack of skill won’t be of much help, princess.” 
Her lips twitch with a ghost of a smirk, a hand reaching towards you. You look down at her hand, bruised knuckles and cold fingers clenched around the silver handle of her sword. “I’ll teach you.” An offer, but with how she looks at you so expectantly, you feel obligated to say yes.
You take a deep breath, close your book, and put it to the side as you stand. Natasha smiles, pacing backward into the muddy lawn as you follow, nervous hands gripping the fur of your coat.
“Promise I won’t get your dress dirty.” She comments, proudly swinging the heavy sword, shiny metal winking in the light similarly to her eyes. “Thank you,” you mutter, heavily swallowing as you turn to stand in front of the dummy. Natasha is now behind you, silent as she reaches forward to place the sword in front of you. You grab the handle, cold fingers brushing hers in exchange. “Will you teach me how to braid tonight?” She speaks up.
Your face twitches in confusion, glancing over your shoulder, quickly turning back around once you notice your proximity. “You want to learn how to braid?” She doesn’t, she could care less actually, but she hasn’t taken the time even to ask you what your hobbies are. She knows little to nothing about you, but she knows you are an excellent braider. “Yes…Will you teach me?” She repeats.
You take a slow breath before nodding; a small smile paints across her lips before she steps closer, chest pressing against your back as she presses a hand to the center of your stomach. A warm sensation seeps through your body when she speaks softly into your ear, “Keep your core tight, helps with stability.”
It was the first time she had acknowledged you as someone other than her lady-in-waiting. You were both fifteen at the time, and you had only been of service to her for a year and some change. Upon meeting Nat, she quickly brushed you off; but even the princess herself couldn’t resist you for too long. You were kind, understanding, and patient with Natasha— despite all of her attempts to get rid of you. Natasha had a habit of refusing help in any way, shape, or form, hence why she learned to wield swords, knives, bows, and arrows– name it, and she’s an expert. A princess with a heart of stone and a shiny weapon to match. 
Despite her efforts to push you away, you still showed up every morning to help her get dressed. You still patiently sat to the side of the training yard, watching her and Steve take turns swinging their swords at one another. You still stood by her side at every obnoxious ball she was forced to attend, and you listened to every complaint she would mutter about how tight her corset was or how uncomfortable the pins in her hair were. You never once gave up on Natasha Romanoff.
It was only a matter of time before the two of you formed a bond stronger than the toughest steel a blacksmith could forge. You learned everything there was to know about Natasha, from the little things like her favorite shade of blue to the big things like how badly her mother's death had affected her.
You know her like the back of your hand as she does you, which is why you understand that Natasha will come to you when she’s ready to talk— and this applies to anything.
Steve is silent, unsure if he should say anything, when Natasha misses another swing, the tip of her sword scraping the muddy ground with a mockingly loud squelch. “Should we wrap up?” 
Natasha breathes deeply, glancing at Steve before shaking her head. You stand alone now as you watch Natasha gather herself, drawing in a steady breath as she twirls the sword once.
Steve nods toward her right hand, “...You’re bleeding.” 
You look down at her hand, stepping forward before you even process the scene; a stream of thick dark red liquid leaks down her arm, curls around her fingers, and slithers down the shiny metal of her sword. If she’s in pain, she doesn’t do much to show it. Instead, she clenches her jaw, clearly annoyed, as she shoves her sword back into the baldric strapped to her chest.
“We’ll take a break.” She mumbles loud enough for both you and Steve to hear before she’s silently walking into the castle, most likely to address the new wound.
You don’t see or hear word from Natasha for the rest of the day. As her lady-in-waiting, you must assist her in everything she does, but your job is challenging when she so easily slips away. She has always been good at hiding, ever since she was a child. 
She knew the castle better than the architects that built it hundreds of years ago; she knew every nook and cranny— from the highest tower to the lowest cellar. She knew all of it, which only made it easier for her to get away when she needed the space. 
You learned to never look for her in these times, 1- because you would never manage to find her, and 2- because she would always - always - return to you. 
You’re in your room (ridiculously smaller than Nat’s, given you are considered castle staff), seated at the small desk in the corner as you silently read when you hear it. The knock on your chamber doors is soft, almost missable, but loud enough to turn your head. It is now night, too early to be midnight but well past supper, so you know who it is before you even open the door.
You don’t even bother closing your book, too eager to see Natasha and hear everything she has to say. You’ve prepared yourself to hear whatever had been weighing down on her, ready to listen and bring any comfort you can.
When you open the door, your heart races, taking in the sight of Natasha; her hair is wavy and damp, most likely from a bath, as tiny droplets of water drip onto her velvet-covered shoulders. Hugging her body is a deep red coat shielding her from the cold winter weather that seeps through the servant quarters.
Her eyes still hold that distant glare, but it’s better, more stable, as she meets your gaze. She takes note of your lack of a coat, “Are you not cold?” 
You shake your head, stepping aside to let her in. She wastes no time, surging forward to kiss you as soon as you close the door shut and twist the lock. You hum, your hands finding solace in the fur of her coat, pulling her closer.
You can barely focus as she drives you backward, clumsy feet knocking against each other with each step. You’re a blur of tangled limbs, soft moans, and selfish grabs as you stumble towards your bed. She pushes you down onto the thin mattress, kneeling on the bed to hover over you as your kisses become heated, sloppy, and frantic. Neither of you is paying attention to your actions as you fumble with each other's clothing, eager to undress and feel the warmth of each other's skin— to quench the unbearable thirst that rests in the pit of your souls. 
You come to your senses, breaking away with a heavy pant, blinking away your blurred vision as she pulls back to look at you. Refusing to waste another second, you ask, “What’s wrong?” 
Your gazes dance amongst each other, both of you taking in each other's features as your bated breaths mix. Natasha swallows, blinking once and shaking her head. “Nothing.” A lie. One that you see right through despite her lousy efforts. 
She leans forward in hopes of stealing another kiss, but your hands push at her shoulders, your expression soft compared to the harsh tone of your tone, “Natalia,” You press. 
Her chest tightens at the name, eyes softening under your scrutiny. It’s moments like these when she remembers just how well you know her— when she remembers; there is no need to hide from you. She can put on the tough princess act for the entire kingdom, but for you, she will never need to— she will always inevitably crack and come undone.
She cracks a sad smile, gently cupping your face to softly run the pad of her rough thumb under your eye. “I’ll tell you…I will,” You don’t even notice as you lean into her palm, shoulders visibly relaxing under her touch. “I promise.”
Wordlessly, you nod, the both of you silently agreeing to come back to the conversation, but for now, there is a burning desire to feel one another’s touch in ways only the walls will ever know of, for now at least.
You waste no time rushing forward, pushing your lips against hers, toes curling at the taste of her lips. You will never get sick of the feeling. Her hands are steady as they pull at your chemise, dragging the long thin fabric up your legs, further up your stomach before she has no choice but to part from you. She makes quick work of dragging the garment up off of you, tossing it off to the side before finding your lips once again. You both softly moan against each other as Natasha leans more forward to push you onto your back, her hands busying themselves with the familiar landscape of your body.
She parts from you with a wet sound, and you huff in frustration, watching as she moves back to stand at the foot of the bed. Your whiny huff causes her to grin as she begins to slip off her coat. 
“Be patient.” Her stern voice sends a pang of arousal to your core, thighs squeezing in desire as you push yourself up to sit on your knees, crawling to the edge of the bed. You say nothing, watching as the heavy coat falls to the floor. She stands in front of you, dressed in a black corset and a silk slip; your deepest desires and unspoken dreams stand before you, tempting you closer with the lustful look beneath her lashes. 
The holy grail rests beneath your fingertips when you reach out, digging your fingers into the laces of her corset, pulling and unlacing each row until it’s fully open. You’re quickly pushing the corset off, not even waiting to hit the ground before you’re surging forward, greedily lapping and sucking at her neck. Eager fingers leave goosebumps in their wake, gliding along the plane of her collarbones, past the valley of her breasts, and over her stomach. The tip of your finger dips into the curve of her navel before traveling further and curling around the hem of her slip. 
Your soft kisses dance from her neck to her shoulders, light pecks trailing down her arm and softening once you reach the white bandage that now hugs her wounded bicep. You glance up at her through heavy lashes, smiling back when she smiles at you in adoration. You gently kiss the bandage, and her heart flutters in her chest. You press on with your kisses.
She lets out a shaky breath when your lips wrap around her taut nipple, tongue slowly laving over the sensitive bud. Her hands find their way into your hair, curling against the roots as she moans in pleasure. Eagerly, you push down the slip, the thin fabric fluttering to pool at her feet as your hands squeeze at her hips. Your fingers curl, nails lightly skimming across her skin as your hands sneakily cascade down her figure, caressing the smooth skin of her thighs. She catches you before you reach your final destination, pulling you back to kiss you sloppily. She pulls away when you get greedy, lazily smiling when you chase her, whining when she denies you the pleasure. “You’re being mean.”
She hums, softly pushing you back to lie against the bed. She ignores your comment, slowly advancing as you lean back on your elbows. “I want to taste you.” She purrs, steady hands parting your thighs to wedge her knee between them, straddling your thigh. 
Her hands are rough and calloused from her many hobbies, sending shivers up your spine as she grazes every bare inch of skin you have to offer.
Her lips attach to your jaw before the kisses trail lower and lower as your breathing becomes more and more bated, watching as she slowly makes her way between your legs. You ache beneath her gaze, cheeks heating in excitement as she takes in your bare cunt. 
Her hands selfishly squeeze the meat of your thighs as she leans in to press a kiss to the inside of each of them. She snickers when your hips squirm at the sensation. Out of all of Natasha’s hobbies; horse riding, archery, and even swordsmanship— you are her favorite of them all. Not a day goes by when she doesn’t have a fleeting thought of the sacred altar that hides between your thighs. If she had the choice, she would gladly busy herself with your cunt than spend another minute dwelling on her allegiance to the crown. 
There are no further warnings before she dives in, licking a thick stripe up your cunt. Your breath hitches, knees buckling at the sensation of her warm tongue dragging back and forth over your cunt, swirling over your clit before wrapping her lips around the bud and gently suckling.
“O-oh–” You keen, one hand reaching out to grasp her hair as the other tightly grabs onto your stiff blankets. Your tummy clenches in pleasure, failing to stay still beneath her intoxicating touch. Silently, with her mouth still busy devouring your cunt, she reaches up and presses a hand to the center of your chest, forcing you onto your back and pulling a surprised moan from you. The hand fisted in your sheets grabs her hand that’s rested against your chest, subconsciously squeezing her fingers as they curl around yours. Her mouth greedily sucks at your clit, occasionally breaking away to lap at the sinful arousal that drips from your folds to smear across your chin.
She glances up at you, humming while she watches your face twist into a look of pleasure, lips parted with each moan you spill, eyes shut in an overwhelming bliss.
Her hand slips away from yours, trailing down your body until she reaches your thighs. Wordlessly, she grips the back of your thighs and parts them further, gently pushing your knees up towards your chest and relishing in the pitiful cry you let out, removing your other hand from her hair to join the other in grasping at your sheets.
She doesn’t let you go for long, quickly reaching for your hand and placing it back in her damp hair, urging you to grasp it instead. She surges forward, subtly shaking her head in an attempt to drink you in even more. Your hips drive upward, greedily seeking out the eye-rolling, toe-curling, back-arching sensation that only she can give you.
With a lewd wet sound, she pulls off from your dripping cunt, shamefully eyeing the beautiful scenery as you pulse in abandon. A steady thumb falls to your clit, and she begins to rub tight circles against the slippery bud, still managing to hold you down while doing so, reveling in the watery cry that escapes your lips.
She leans forward, slanting her wet mouth over yours as her fingers slowly dip into your sex. “Not too loud,” She reminds you. You softly moan, clenching around her digits as you dwell in the taste of you mixed with the taste of her.
“What would you do if the others heard you, hm?” Your left arm is now hooked around her shoulders, blunt nails deliciously digging into her shoulder blade as your other hand reaches down to hold her wrist, feeling out the motion of each thrust of her fingers— in and out, in and out.
The sound is sinful, wet, and sticky, lewd enough to cause the back of your neck to heat in embarrassment. “How would you explain this to them? How would you explain how wet you get for your princess?” Her voice drips with arousal, low but smooth, enticing enough to send shivers up your spine and set your nerves ablaze.
She trails kisses from your lips to your jaw, wet lips brushing the shell of your ear as she speaks, “Imagine how shocked they would be to hear how quick you are to part your legs for me—”
Her fingers curl upwards, and your eyes roll, a wave of pleasure wracking through your body and leaving you gasping for air. “— How easily this pussy of yours sucks me in every single time.” She presses a wet kiss below your ear, and you shiver. 
You find your hands trembling as they smooth down her body, fingertips digging into her hips and pulling forward. “Wanna touch you too. Please?” You beg, watery eyes landing on hers when she pulls away from your neck to gaze at you. You both look disheveled, beautifully so. Only Natasha looks more put together than you, lips swollen and red, shiny and wet with your arousal. Her cheeks are a deep shade of pink from both heat and lust. Whereas you lie breathlessly beneath her, wide eyes glossy and fogged with pleasure, tiny beads of sweat beginning to prickle across your forehead. You look fucked out, struggling to grasp your words with how well she’s fucking you with her fingers.
She nods, and you waste no time sneaking your hand between your bodies, fingers traveling past the patch of neatly groomed hair that leads you to your final destination.
Your fingers skim past her clit, dipping lower to gather the sticky arousal and running back up to spread it throughout her heat. She pants, her hips rutting down against your hand in abandon. 
The two of you work each other towards the edge for some time, lips sloppily melding together in a calculated mess of passion. You feel that tight, curling feeling building within the pit of your stomach.
You whine when she slowly pulls her fingers from you, but you make no other sound of protest as she straddles your thigh again. Your hand slips from her heat, moving to grasp her hips and pull her forward. You moan, your core aching at the feeling of her warm thigh pressed against your dripping cunt.
Natasha has slowly followed you into a state of complete bliss, both of your minds hazy and clouded with the need to reach that peak. Together, you’re a panting and sweaty mess, greedy hands squeezing and grabbing at miles of skin and hair, hips rolling together in tandem, pitiful sounds rolling onto each other's tongues.
Your movements become more and more frantic, less and less calculated. A slight sting arises where Nat’s nails bite into your hips, but it only pushes you further toward the edge, a breathy whine wracking through your lungs. 
When you come, it’s an all-encompassing sensation, from your head to your toes, your body shaking in ecstasy. Your body feels so distant from the room, but you’ve never felt closer to Nat, thighs tightening around her as she topples over. Her heavy breaths hit the side of your neck, parted lips ghosting over the sweaty skin as you both sink into the feeling.
Slowly, your hips roll to a stop, bodies collapsing against one another in exhaustion as you both silently bask in the afterglow.
The room is silent, save for the sound of you both attempting to catch your breath. You feel content, happy, and satisfied with Nat’s body pressed to yours, your fingers subconsciously winding through her tangled hair.
Minutes pass before she tilts her head to look at you, lips brushing yours as she speaks, voice hoarse from the previous activities, “Would you like to go for a walk?”
You don’t even have to answer verbally, lips curling into a soft smile as you slightly nod, kissing her once before she carefully moves away from you.
Within a few minutes, you’re both quietly walking through the castle's gallery, a familiar routine the two of you have adopted as an unspoken tradition. Many late nights have been spent walking through this hall, the nights when Nat struggles to let her mind rest, the nights when you struggle to let sleep take over. The gallery is your and Nat’s safe place. The place where you talk through everything, or you let the unsaid speak for you. Either way, the gallery has come to be your favorite hall of the castle.
You sit in front of a portrait of her mother, dim moonlight from the windows casting shadows over the pristine walls. 
You let Natasha take her time gathering her thoughts, nervous fingers picking at the fabric of your dress. However, what leaves her mouth is not at all what you had been expecting, “The king is dead.”
You could dizzy yourself with the speed your head spins her way. Your world stills for a moment, white noise filling your eardrums as your heart pounds against the cage in your chest. The sound of her voice pulls you back to the room as she continues to speak.
“This morning. A hunting incident.”
Your heart breaks for Natasha. The loss of a parent is a void that can never truly be filled, you would know from experience, but you can’t imagine the pain she’s dealing with now. She never fully recovered from her mother's death at such a young age, but now that her father is gone, she has lost both parents and is expected to take the throne.
You blink, softly shaking your head in disbelief.
“Your sister?” “She doesn’t know,” Her voice fails her, faltering towards the end, her face twists in frustration as her head bows, eyes flickering down towards her lap. She clears her throat, swallowing before she speaks, “At least not yet…”
You understand why she avoids telling her sister the news. Out of the two sisters, Yelena was the one who took her mother's death the hardest. She spent weeks alone in her bed chamber, only leaving to attend the memorial before locking herself in again. Natasha was the one that helped her through it; she was patient with her, allowing her to feel every emotion that would boil over, always quick to come to her sister's aid.
Natasha is a tough lover, rigid and stiff on the outside but soft and warm beneath the surface. Yelena is soft and warm all around; she loves with her entire mind, body, and soul. The news of her father’s passing will inevitably crush her.
You reach out for her, resting a comforting hand atop her folded hands in her lap, “I’m so sorry.”
She’s silent for a moment before she takes a steady breath, turning her hands in your grasp to hold them. The initial news of her father’s passing was enough to have your heart drop, but the words that leave her mouth are enough to leave you breathless, “I want you to be my queen consort.”
Again, you find your eyes locked on her face, lips parted in shock as her words sink in. A silent moment passes, deafening and thick enough to choke you. You barely register your feet carrying you through the castle halls, leaving Natasha behind in the gallery as you walk towards the doors. 
Your mind is cluttered and spinning as you burst through the castle doors, drifting down the stairs and stepping into the heaps of snow that have settled over the grass. Your breath is bated as you pace on the lawn, thick clouds of white following your every breath. The news you’ve received from the past few minutes is quickly coming to a boil, an overwhelming wave of emotions crashing down on you and greedily sucking up all the air from your lungs. Your nails dig into the rich fabric of your dress, the corset seemingly getting tighter with each passing second.
You almost curse when you hear your name, torn between the unbearable pain of reality and the warm blanket of comfort you’ve now associated with her voice. “Are you alright?” She steps into the snow where you stand. “Do not patronize me.”
She halts at your harsh tone, watching as you turn your back to her, wrapping your arms across your midsection. You curse the cold weather and your lack of a coat as Natasha steps closer.
“Come inside; you’ll get sick.”
And you’ve had enough. You’re tired of Natasha pushing and pushing, downplaying the legitimacy of her name, her title, your relationship— the consequences of your relationship. Your hands are balled into fists as you turn to her. “How could you ask this of me?” Her gaze is soft, hands held together behind her back as you study her.
“They will never accept me as queen; you realize this, yes?” 
She steadily breathes as she steps closer, snow crunching beneath her weight. “I will do everything in my power to keep you safe— you know this,” The wind is harsh, pinching at your skin and sharp enough to numb your fingers. “When have I ever put you in harm's way?”
You’re silent. You have no answer because she hasn’t. There has never been a time when Natasha let you come even close to a threat, an accusation-– anything. She has always come to your defense, and as heir to the throne, her words hold more authority than a priest to a congregation.
If you were to go through with it – marry her and become queen consort – there’s no doubt there would be challenges within the kingdom, from the members of the high table to the commoners in the city. The two of you would have to fight tooth and nail to secure your title as King and Queen.
“I won’t be the reason you lose everything.” She doesn’t waste a second, already knowing you would make that excuse, before she replies, “You don’t get to make that decision for me.”
Your eyes shut as you take in a breath of frustration, turning away from her once again. Your head hurts, a painful, dull throb beginning to spread through the forefront of your forehead. You silently sigh, finally locking eyes as you speak, “Are…are you sure?”
The silence hangs thick, pulsing with hesitance, longing, heartbreak, and nearly every other emotion you could imagine. Natasha can’t believe you even have to ask. She’s never been more sure of something in her life; she’s spent days upon nights – months – thinking about the moment she could make you queen. Natasha doesn’t care that you’re her lady-in-waiting; she doesn’t care that it’s impractical in endless ways in the eyes of the high table. She only wants you. 
All of it comes to a tipping point, the dam finally breaking when she shifts even closer, your arms brushing as she reaches out to gently grasp your elbow, “I’m sure.”
A moment's pause before you rush forward, cold lips pressing against hers. Natasha's hand cups your face as she pulls you closer, your bodies nearly melding into one. Her warm breath hits your top lip with each breath that leaves her body, making you weak in the knees, your stomach twisting in a sickening mixture of nerves, fear, happiness— love most of all. 
Your hands fist at the fur of her winter coat, heart fluttering when she pulls away with one last peck. A lovesick heat rushes up the back of your neck and spreads throughout your cheeks when she smiles at you. She means it when she says, “You’ll be the best queen this kingdom has ever had.” 
And there isn’t a single person on this earth you would rather take this journey with apart from Natasha Romanoff.
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savash4 · 28 days
*The avengers are in a meeting*
Fury*gets a text*:um I gotta go
Natasha:why? is something wrong?
Fury:no everything is fine I just ..
Clint:he has to go to the barbershop
Fury:you had to talk barton,didn't you?
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Y/N: When I get murdered, can you make sure I become an unsolved case.
Wanda: What?
Y/N: I want to be on Buzzfeed Unsolved.
Natasha: Can we go back to the part where you said “when I get murdered”?
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phantomstatistician · 4 months
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Tag: Asexual Character
Sample Size: 10,631 stories
Source: AO3
Note: This chart shows the 10 most popular characters in the “Asexual Character” tag, but characters in this chart are not necessarily written as asexual characters. Interpret with caution.
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marvel-lous-guy · 11 days
*Peter meets the avengers*
Clint: Hey! Nice to meet ya!
Steve: Hey, so your Tony's intern?
Nat: You must be pretty smart then
Peter: mhm
Tony: okay, that's enough, kids kinda shy. We're gonna go down to the lab now
Sam: bye mini stark!
Bruce: I guess the kid's really shy then. He didn't even go crazy about meeting Captain America
Bucky: Yeah, must be real shy to not care you've just fulfilled every kids dream
Clint: honestly, I'm offended
Nat: Clint, shut up, it's probably just scary meeting us all at once
Peter: *later* People think I'm very shy, anxious and quiet, but my Aunt just taught me that "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all". I don't say much now
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(Y/N): I fixed it!
Natasha: What did you fix?
(Y/N): Everything!
[loud explosion in the background]
(Y/N): …except that.
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caffeinated-mess · 4 months
Wish I Didn’t Care
Pairings: (Natasha Romanoff/Reader)
Summary: You and Natasha have a friends with benefits relationship, Nat unaware of your feelings toward her. But when she tries to make you jealous by flirting with Bruce, your insecurity rises. Will she be able to fix her mistake?
WARNINGS: fwb, implied smut, implied oral (nat receiving), lightly implied d/s themes, slightest mention of violence, angst, cursing, fluff, hurt/comfort
Word count: 1,870
A/N: Woo! A fwb fic! I had a lot of fun writing this. It makes me sad that smut seems to get the most likes and reblogs even when the same amount of effort is put in, but I can’t change that. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy this!
Natasha was clear when it came to expressing her displeasure through the night. Just a few hours ago she had you on top of her, your fingernails digging into the muscled flesh of her thighs as your tongue swirled around her clit. Then there was an announcement from FRIDAY that Tony decided to throw a last minute celebration party. It was in honour of the latest mission, a simple scour of an abandoned HYDRA base. The search went surprisingly smooth, the team able to gather some extra information as a bonus, but it was nothing that demanded a celebration.
However, you consider Tony a close friend, so you pulled away from the Russian just before she was able to tumble off the edge. You had to listen to her grumbles and complaints the entirety of the time spent getting dressed, the only reason for her attendance was your quiet whisper into her ear.
“If you behave, I’ll let you choose what we do for the rest of the night.”
The words had her scrambling for a presentable outfit, an excitement that quickly wore off as the hours passed. Now the red-head holds a flirty smirk on her face as she runs a finger down the bicep of Bruce Banner. You have nothing against the guy, he’s sweet and comforting, and always self aware of his own emotions. You would even consider him as a companion due to all the time you spend with him and Tony in the labs. However, you are currently resisting the temptation to smash his face into a table until his nose is bleeding and broken.
It’s not even his fault. You and Natasha never put a name to your relationship, a fact that you are randomly reminded of, so you have no reason to be this full of rage. And sure, you know that Natasha is doing this purely to get a rise out of you. The glances she occasionally shoots you with are a big enough indication, but you can’t stop the feeling of insecurity crawling through the anger. Out of everyone to flirt with, she had to choose her ex, the caring scientist with seven PhD’s. You are very aware of the history they share, he’s one of the few people that can call her ‘Nat’ without fearing for his life.
So with one last glimpse in their direction, you politely excuse yourself from the party, hoping that people will blame your glistening eyes on the alcohol.
You avoid Natasha for the next few days. You know that it’s an immature way to react, you’re a full-grown adult for fucks sake, but some buried part of you fears the confrontation that has never landed in your favour as a child.
So you shrug off the team’s concerned questions about the sudden distance between you and the Russian. You greet Natasha with nothing more than a strained, but friendly smile in the halls and disappear whenever she attempts to corner you. But you can’t escape team meetings, so you are occasionally forced to make small talk with Natasha, leaving whenever she tries to bring up a heavier topic. Your plans for the day take place when you know Natasha is busy elsewhere, and the training gym alongside your room quickly become your new comfort places.
Sometimes, you get a bit too fucked up at a nearby bar and wake up next to a sleeping person in an unfamiliar room. You always leave before they wake, never leaving a note even when the sex is good.
Perhaps it was foolish of you to entertain Natasha’s proposal of being friends with benefits. You know she previously had a similar arrangement with Maria Hill, before the SHEILD agent became too busy for regular hook-ups. Shortly after that, she expressed an interest in Steve Rogers, but it was apparently a short-lived experience. There were rumours of something between the redhead and Carol Danvers whenever the latter wasn’t off world. Then, of course, there was her failed relationship attempt with Bruce Banner. You never cared to find out if there was something more, Natasha assured you that all three were in the past, and you took her word for it. Maybe that was your mistake.
Eventually, after several weeks of your avoidance, the spy gets a chance to speak to you alone. You’re positive she manipulated the situation to get her way, not that you expect anything less from a trained assassin. You were using your frustration as fuel against a punching bag when she sauntered in and asked FRIDAY to secure all exit points.
You still the bag with your wrapped hands and rest your forehead against the durable material. A second later, you walk over to a nearby resting bench, taking small sips of your water before peeling off your hand wraps.
“How long do you plan on avoiding me?”
Your head tilts up after hearing the raspiness of a familiar voice.
“I’m not avoiding you, Natasha,” you sigh. “We still talk.”
The Russian moves closer to you, her frustration shown in the slightest clenching of her jaw. You hate how easily you can read her.
“Don’t bullshit me! We don’t talk!” She explodes, and it shocks you into silence at how fast she lost her cool. “God, is this because I was flirting with Bruce?”
You scoff. “Maybe I was just bored of hooking up with you. The Earth doesn’t fucking revolve around you, Romanoff!”
Your words are harsh and cruel, they are also a complete lie, but you have always been a fantastic liar. The eye contact you maintain with her is steady, but then her gaze drops to your shoulder, and her eyes darken.
“You let someone mark you?” Her voice has lowered to a dangerous whisper.
And either you have no sense of self-preservation or you would take any opportunity to win an argument, because you match her tone and say, “That’s not the only one.”
Natasha marches towards you and you stand up, instantly on defence. “What? So you forbid me from leaving a hickey on you after all the months we spent together, but you let girls that you see for one night leave hickeys all over you?”
If looks could kill, her furious green eyes would have you buried six feet under. You hate that you find her anger attractive, you hate how you’re tempted to scream that she broke your heart.
Instead, you lean down to her eye level with a patronising smirk on your face. “Who said I only fuck girls?”
You catch her fist a second before it could collide with your face, levelling her with an unimpressed stare. Then you ask FRIDAY to unlock the gym doors.
“See you later, princess,” you mutter into her ear, teasingly dragging your thumb to pull down her bottom lip, shoulder checking her on your way to exit the room.
Your hand slaps against your face as soon as you leave her view, cursing the world and your stupidity. Fury lingers in your veins, directed at the situation, at Natasha, at yourself.
The next day, it’s as if your roles have been reversed. You actively seek out the Russian while she seems keen on avoiding you. The AI informs you of her whereabouts when you ask, and you enter her room while she showers. It feels borderline invasive to wait until she’s the most vulnerable to corner her, but you know that she would escape in any other situation.
You sit on a chair in the corner of her room and wait patiently until the water shuts off. You wait another few minutes as she dresses. It’s habit for her to change into clothes while still in the bathroom. The door clicks open.
“Hello,” you clear your throat to make her aware of your presence. It’s only due to you half-expecting her reaction that you catch the knife she throws at you. The blade would have hit directly between your eyes.
“Why are you in my room?” Natasha asks, an indifferent facade settling on her face to conceal her surprise.
“To talk,” you state as if it’s obvious.
“There’s nothing I have to say to you.”
You don’t let her words affect you. “We were friends with benefits, Natasha. Very close friends before that,” you say and her posture relaxes ever so slightly, guilt flashing in her eyes for a second. “Communication has always played a huge role in our relationship. I am tired of being mad at you, and I want my friend back.”
You don’t dare voice that you want more. That you’ve always wanted more.
Natasha hesitates, and for a second you believe that she will send you away. You’re relieved when she mutters, “Fine.”
“I was hurt when you flirted with Bruce,” you admit. “I thought that you cared for me enough to tell me if you had feelings for him. Even if it was to annoy me, you chose him for a reason, and that bothered me.”
“I have strictly platonic feelings for Bruce,” is her eventual response and you nod, halfway convinced. You don’t want to doubt her words but you don’t think you will ever be able to completely believe her.
“We had strictly platonic feelings for each other as well, Natasha,” you counter. It’s not completely true for you, given how you were attracted to the woman upon first glance, but she doesn’t need to know that. “We still managed to begin hooking up.”
The Russian purses her lips, unable to voice a disagreement to your statement. You shake your head.
“Listen,” you start. “I lied about the sex being boring, it was damn good and I thoroughly enjoyed it. So, we can still have sex if you want. I can’t stop you from flirting with people you might be interested in, so I’m not going to drag you away from them if you want to sleep with them. We never said we had an exclusive relationship.”
Natasha’s mouth opens and you think she’s going to say something, but all that comes out is, “You’re right.”
“Alright,” you tell her, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off your knees. “That’s all I wanted, I’ll leave you alone now.”
“Wait!” You’re halfway out her door when she says it. Her voice is just a tad louder than normal. You turn around to face her, an eyebrow raised as a silent question.
Natasha murmurs something that you can’t quite make out. “….-’t want…sleep…-ther…-ple.”
“I can’t hear what you’re saying, Natasha.”
Her eyes flash to you angrily. “Stop calling me that!” She softens upon seeing your stunned expression. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you reassure her as if speaking to a wounded animal. “What did you say before, Nat?”
An embarrassed flush creeps onto her face before she steels herself with faux confidence. “I don’t want you sleeping with other people.”
You’re not oblivious and, at times like these, you know Natasha better than you know yourself. “You have feelings for me.”
She panics. “It was dumb, never-mind. Forget I said anything! I’ll talk to you later, bye!”
A chuckle slips past your lips. “Bye, baby. I’m in love with you, too.”
Then you leave with a smile and pretend to not hear the giddy exclamation that comes from her room seconds later.
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incorrectlycorrectfun · 10 months
Natasha: *Accidentally hits Y/n in the face* Natasha: *Trying to decide between saying 'I’m fucking sorry' and 'Are you okay'* Natasha: ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY?! Y/n: *On the verge of crying* Yelena: What’s wrong with you?!
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youseeingthis · 8 hours
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katethewriter · 19 days
Last Wish
Pairing: WandaNat x Barton!Reader, Clint Barton x Reader(siblings)
Words: 10k
Summary: Wanda has known grief, but not like this.
Warnings: angst, all of the angst, major character death, Vormir, survivor’s guilt, no happy ending, grief and mourning, please let me know if I missed one
A/N: this is the one I told you to grab tissues for. I'm not sorry, you were warned lol, it’s a long one, and I’m actually really proud of this one, so I hope you like it ☺️
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Sunlight beams through the window, landing fully on Wanda’s face. She groans, wincing when the light burns her eyes.
A set of arms reach out and wrap around her waist. A smile stretches across her face as she lets herself be pulled back into the cocoon that she rolled out of sometime in the night. A trail of kisses is left by a familiar set of lips across her shoulder.
“Good morning, lyubov,” Natasha whispers into her ear.
The Sokovian rolls over to face her girlfriend, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips once they are face to face. “Good morning,” she bumps noses with the assassin.
The sound of a clearing throat comes from the other side of Natasha. “Good morning to you too,” you scoff sarcastically. “Where’s my good morning kiss?”
The two women giggle.
In less than a second, Natasha has scooped you up and switched spots with you. Now, with you settled between them, the Russian playfully raises an eyebrow, “I woke you up with good morning kisses.” She leans down to press her lips to yours to further prove her point.
“You may have, but there are those amongst us who refuse to do so,” you pout.
Grabbing your chin, Wanda guides you to look at her and smiles, “I am so sorry, my love. Please accept my deepest apologies. Allow me to remedy the situation.”
The kiss she gives you is soft and slow and thorough. By the time she lets you come up for air, you feel dizzy and completely under her spell.
“Good morning, my beautiful detka,” Wanda gazes down at you, eyes full of adoration, “was my apology to your satisfaction?”
Smiling giddy, you reply, “I think it will do.”
As soon as the words leave your mouth, a grumbling sound comes from your stomach. Your girlfriends laugh as you attempt to cover your face.
“Well, I guess we know Y/n’s hungry,” Natasha teases. Her fingers dance across your ticklish sides.
Wanda watches happily but does not partake. She learned her lesson the time she tried to tickle you and ended up with a stray elbow to the stomach.
When Natasha finally gives you a break, Wanda leans down to kiss your head, “I will make us some breakfast.” She grabs Nat’s chin to kiss her as well before rolling off the bed.
The moment her bare toes meet the cold hard wood floor, an almost electric pulse runs up her body, and everything goes black.
The witch jolts awake in an empty bed and cold sheets. She peers at her surroundings reminding herself where she is…
The bedroom of a cabin in the middle of nowhere, completely alone.
She cries, lying there contemplating the series of events that led her here. The downfall of her relationship.
One lover gone from Wanda’s life, while the other is just gone.
Both made the choice to leave her. After all that’s happened, all that she has said and done, the guilt weighs heavy on the witch, but she can make it right. She can fix it.
Wanda walks through the rows of trees, trimming along the way. You had planted them before you left.
The three of you chose this place because it was beautiful. You wanted somewhere beautiful to call home after your time as Avengers came to an end. But now, Wanda lives here alone.
Soft steps on the grass alert Wanda to the arrival of another.
She turns to find Stephen Strange approaching. “Eventually,” she offers the small limb out for him to take.
The Doctor takes branch, bringing the flower to his nose to smell, “it smells…..”
“Sweet,” Wanda finishes, “but that’s not why you came.” She plucks the limb from his hand and turns to place it in a box with the others, “what are you here for?”
She suspects why he is here, but she needs to hear him say it.
Stephen slightly cocks his head to the side, “I just came to see how you are doing.”
The Sokovian turns to face him, “and why would you do that?”
“We’re friends. That’s what friends do.”
Wanda folds her arms, “We fight one purple titan together, and that makes us besties?” She adds a twinge of petulance to last word. “Come now, Stephen,” she continues her walk through the trees, “let’s discuss what you really came to discuss.”
The Sorcerer falls into step with the her with a sigh, “alright, we’ve detected a growth in dark energy congregating in this area. I do some investigating, and I end up here. You wouldn’t happen to know why, would you?”
“No, I wouldn’t have the slightest idea,” Wanda shakes her head, “I left the magic behind me.”
Stephen huffs, “so it seems.” He stops walking and lets Wanda get a few steps behind before she notices. “This magic you are meddling in, it is the kind to corrupt everything and everyone it touches,” he warns. “Whatever you are trying to do isn’t worth what could happen.”
“Why do you assume I am trying to do something?” Wanda takes a step closer to him. “The only thing I am trying to do is to find some peace in my life. After everything I have been through, don’t I at least deserve that?” The pain is ebbing again. The gaping hole in her life making itself known.
The Doctor retreats a step, “of course, you do, but destruction with dark magic won’t help you achieve it.”
“I have nothing left to destroy. Is there something else I can help you with?”
Stephen sighs. He knows this conversation is going nowhere. She isn’t ready to give it up, and he can’t convince her. The only thing he can do is continue to monitor the situation and pray he can intervene in time if necessary.
The Sorcerer opens a portal back to the sanctum. Before he walks through it, he turns one last time, “just don’t let it destroy you, Wanda. She wouldn’t want that.”
After he is gone, Wanda returns to the house and into the basement. Her eyes dance over the pages as she searches for a way to fix this mess. She reminds herself of her mission and repeats over and over to herself.
“I will get her back.”
A tear falls from your eye as you look out over the horizon. The floating red man’s words play on a loop in your head.
‘A soul for a soul.’
Your heart breaks at the thought of not getting to be there when Wanda returns. You think of Clint and his family, your family, how this will affect them.
But your soul grows angry at the thought of that purple giant winning. You fear the possibility of failing again, of everyone you love and half of the world remaining dead. You take a deep breath and step towards the edge of the cliff.
You are brought to a halt by an iron grasp on your arm pulling you back.
“Over my dead body,” Natasha looks you in the face. Your partner stares into your eyes as intensely.
“Natasha, if we don’t get that stone, billions of people stay dead. Wanda stays dead,” your voice cracks at the mention of her name. Your third that you both have missed desperately since the snap. “I can’t allow that.”
The widow places her hands on your shoulders to get your complete attention, “and I cannot allow you to do this.”
“You have to,” you shake your head sadly, “it has to be me. The team needs you. The world needs you. Wanda will need you.”
“You don’t think she’ll need you too?” Tears gather in her eyes, “Y/n, she loves you so much.”
“She loves you more.”
“NO,” the redhead denies firmly, “and what about Clint? How am I supposed to face him and tell him his baby sister is gone?”
A sad smile graces your lips, “he’ll have his best friend to help him through it.”
“You’re his best friend.”
You shake your head, denying her statement.
“It’ll be ok,” you pull her into your arms, “you’ll be ok. You and Wanda and everyone, you all will be ok.”
She cups your face, tears streaming down both of your cheeks, “we wouldn’t, ever.”
You bring her in to gently press your lips to hers. She deepens the kiss, and you both know what this means. This is goodbye. You can feel it.
Only question is who is leaving.
Pulling back, the two of you hold each other for the last time.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper.
In a second, you grab her wrist and spin her to cuff her hands behind her back. You knock her off her feet, and she crashes to the ground in a heap. The terror on her face nearly breaks you, but you steel yourself and dash for the edge.
You don’t even make it halfway before you collapse to the ground in pain. Reaching for the source, you eventually find and rip off a widow bite. Looking up you see Natasha nearing the cliff.
Out of desperation, you pull out your gun and hit her in the back of her calf. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, as you sprint the final distance to the edge.
You jump and wait for an impact that comes much sooner than you had predicted. Natasha’s body collides with yours midair, then you both slam into the side of the mountain. You cling to her as she nearly slips from your hands.
The two of you hang from the side of the mountain. You look up to see the wire that is firmly attached to your belt.
“Damn you,” you look back down to Natasha, “why did you do that?”
Her face is calm as she looks back up at you, “let me go.”
“Let me clear my ledger,” the widow asks.
“Your ledger is clean!” You try to reach for her with your other hand, but you fall short, “baby please, don’t do this.”
Natasha smiles, “Its ok.”
All you can do is shake your head.
“I love you,” she knows this is it. She waits for you to repeat it. When you don’t, she prompts you, “say it.”
“Please,” you whimper.
“Say it,” her voice cracks. She needs to hear it, “please.”
“I love you, Natasha.”
“I love you both,” your partner smiles, “tell Wanda.”
Your face screws in pain, but you nod, “I will.”
“I’m so sorry,” Natasha whispers, then she kicks away from the mountain and slips through your fingers.
“Did this actually work?”
The team looks around with smiles on their faces, but their celebration is interrupted by a bone chilling scream. They turn to the source and find your crumpled form on the ground.
No one needs to ask what happened or where’s Nat. They can all see the answer when you writhe in indescribable pain.
Natasha is gone.
The pages flip one after the other as Wanda continues to search the book for a way to bring her love back to her.
For months, all she has done is search for a solution. There must be one. How many times have they cheated death? She should have died all those years ago in Sokovia, but she didn’t. Steve was buried in ice for nearly 70 years, but he came back ready to fight. Bucky survived cryo-sleep and torture, but he’s still around. Hulk was missing for two years, presumed dead, playing gladiator on some ridiculous planet, but he came back. They all came back.
So there has to be a way, and Wanda won’t stop until she finds it.
She’s already scoured every book on Earth relating to magic and nonhuman abilities. Every scrap of classified information that the Avengers, former SHIELD files, and any other organization of this type she could find.
It is here that she was introduced to the multiverse. There’s an infinite number of alternate realities just floating around out there. There are realities where the team never fought Thanos, the snap never happened, Natasha never sacrificed herself on Vormir, and the three of you were still together.
Somewhere out there are universes where you’re all happy.
All she has to do is find a universe with her lost love still alive and bring her back to this one. The problem is crossing between the universes is impossible, at least for now.
She searches day and night for a way, and her searching led her to a magic book, the Darkhold. They call it the book of the damned. It’s made of dark magic, Wanda is well aware of that. It’s the means to an end and nothing more.
The Darkhold speaks of a Scarlet Witch that is powerful enough to rule or destroy the entire universe, but Wanda doesn’t want that. She just wants to get her love back.
She flips the page again, unaware of the way her fingers have begun to lose their normal coloring. Her eyes scan over the lines, and she halts.
Dreamwalking. A way in which one can enhabit the body of their alternate self, living in that universe while also remaining in their own.
This is it. A chance for her to access another universe, to find the one she needs.
The book floats in front of Wanda as she sits on the ground. With a wave of her hand, she surrounds herself with a circle of candles. Her hands and eyes glow red as she reads the words out into the air. Red wisps stretch out all around.
Wanda blinks twice slowly before actually closing her eyes and slowly rising from the ground.
She is sent through a network of sorts, almost a red tunnel. There’s a struggle. As if she has to remove an obstacle from her path. It’s difficult, but suddenly the fight is over. The tunnel seems to open and so do Wanda’s eyes.
Looking around, Wanda stands in a kitchen. There are crayon drawings on the fridge and colorful dishes in the sink. She’s wearing a black dress that shows a little more cleavage than she would normally.
Across the room, she spots a framed picture of herself, Natasha, and you. She approaches it to get a closer look. You’re all dressed in white, smiling ear to ear. The bottom of the frame reads: Mrs. & Mrs. & Mrs.
“We were so happy,” she whispers to herself, completely unaware that she has an audience.
“Everything ok, love?”
Wanda holds her breath at the sound of that melodic voice that she hasn’t heard in so long. She turns quickly and finds Natasha standing behind her. She’s wearing a very nice dress suit, and she looks amazing.
All Wanda can do is stare.
The Russian smirks in that way that makes Wanda’s insides turn to mush.
“What?” she approaches the younger woman, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She wraps one arm around Wanda’s waist, while the other hand strokes her cheek, “what’s wrong?”
Wanda smiles and shakes her head. Nothing, absolutely nothing is wrong. She revels in Natasha’s touch, one she feared she would never feel again.
Natasha leans in to kiss her quickly.
“Peter just got here,” she says as she fixes Wanda’s lipstick. “The twins are begging him to let them stay up and play video games all night,” she chuckles. She wraps her arm Wanda once her makeup is fixed, “he probably will. Maybe we should have picked someone else babysit.”
The younger woman can barely pay attention to what she is saying. She is too busy staring. She watches those perfectly kissable lips open and close to form words. She gets lost in emerald eyes that she only gets to see in her dreams.
“…Detka sent me to find you. Are you ready?” Natasha finishes.
Wanda is brought out of her thoughts and quickly comprehends what was said. “Detka…” she whispers reverently.
As if on cue, your voice floats around the corner, “if we don’t get going soon, Tony will come personally escort us to this party.” Both of your wives turn to the doorway which you enter. You stop only a few feet into the room, taking in the sight of them still in each other’s arms with their faces only inches apart. “Am I interrupting?” you ask playfully.
Both of your wives laugh and take in the sight of you. Just like them, you are dressed to the tens. You wear a long magenta dress that hugs you in all the right places. The slit that runs to your hip allows a delectable view of your right leg. Your hair is expertly pulled up, with small strands falling loose to frame your face perfectly. You look stunning, and Wanda can’t take her eyes off of you. She is sure you’ve never looked more beautiful.
She smiles widely, “you could never.”
In an instant, everything is gone. She is sent back into the tunnel, fighting to get back through.
Wanda lands on the ground with a thud. “What?” she looks around wildly looking for her lovers, but she is alone.
“No,” she exclaims as she crawls over to the book that is now laying closed on the ground, “no, she was there! She was right there!”
Desperately, she opens it back up and tries to recite the words again. She has to get back. That was only a second. Wanda only got to be with her for a second. It wasn’t long enough.
She raises herself into the air again and is able to reach the network, but when she reaches the obstacle she is unable to fight through. Groaning, she lands on the ground again.
The other version of herself is resisting her. That’s the obstacle she can’t fight through. She isn’t strong enough, but she will be. Or she’ll just find a reality with a weaker Wanda.
Either way, she will see her love again.
Tree leaves rustle in the wind, and that is the only thing to be heard. The small group stands silent as the dirt is thrown back into the hole it came from.
There’s no service for Natasha. No gathering of people who fought beside her. Not like what they held for Tony. No.
All she gets is a handful of people and an empty casket. A stone that reads her name.
Natasha Romanoff
Daughter – Sister – Lover – Avenger
This was Clint’s idea, to help you and Wanda find some kind of closure. Somewhere to go to say goodbye, even if there is nothing to bury. You had agreed hoping he was right. That this would help, but it seems not.
Wanda hates it. She hates the stone, the casket, the idea that Natasha is really gone, and she’s not coming back. Wanda hates a lot of things these days, but who can blame her. She just lost the love of her life.
The two of you stand side by side, silent tears roll down your cheeks. You’ve stopped wiping them away along time ago. You’re breaking. You’ve been trying to stay strong for Wanda. That’s what Natasha asked you to do, but your strength is wearing thin.
The Sokovian wants nothing to do with you seemingly. She barely talks to you and when she does it is almost always some passive aggressive remark. Her resentment is apparent.
As the last shovel of dirt falls to the ground, you feel another pang of grief. The finality of your time with Natasha hitting you full force. You grab Wanda’s hand for support, but she snatches it from you.
The pieces of your heart break again, and it takes everything you have just to stay standing.
She walks away, leaving you there alone.
Alone. That’s all you feel now. The past two months have been spent sharing a house with the partner you still have, but you still feel entirely alone. Natasha had wanted you to come together, but all you’ve done is drift further and further apart.
Clint comes beside you, wrapping an arm around you.
“I shouldn’t be here.”
You brother looks at you with concern, “you have every right to be here, just like her. You loved Natasha too; you deserve to say a proper goodbye.”
“No Clint,” you can’t lift your eyes off the ground, “I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have come back.”
“Don’t say that,” he turns you to face him straight on.
Your voice breaks, “Wanda thinks it. She won’t say it, but I know she thinks it’s my fault.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is!” you whisper yell, not wanting Wanda to hear you from where she stands a few yards away. “I don’t blame her. She needs Natasha, not me. But Nat’s not here, and that is all my fault.”
Clint grabs you by the shoulders, “no, it is not. It was that purple bastard. Natasha made a decision to bring Wanda and everyone back. She wanted you to be here for that.”
You shake your head and shrug sadly, “it doesn’t change the fact that the wrong person died on that mountain…. It should have been me.”
Audience laughter fills the bedroom as you, Natasha and Wanda lay on the bed watching I Love Lucy reruns.
Natasha leans against the headboard with Wanda’s back pulled flush to her front. You rest between their legs with your head in Wanda’s lap. She cradles you, gently stroking your cheek and playing with your hair. She nearly puts you to sleep.
Natasha’s arms wrap so tightly around her, she’s not sure where Natasha starts and she ends.
It’s perfect.
The only thing that would make it more perfect is if this reality belonged to her.
Wanda can feel the alternate version of herself fighting to regain control, but she is stronger now. She can hold her at bay while she basks in the presence of her lovers, surrounded by Natasha with you in her arms.
From somewhere, someone knocks on a door. Wanda waits, but when neither you nor Natasha react, she ignores it. When the sound pops up again without reaction from either of you, she knows the knocking is not from this reality. It’s from hers.
Mentally, Wanda groans. She doesn’t want to leave, not yet. She still hasn’t found a permanent solution for bringing back her girlfriend. Dream-walking is just a place holder. A nice distraction to get her through the long nights and keep from losing hope.
She leans her head back against Natasha’s shoulder to put this Wanda to sleep.
When she opens her eyes, she is back in the dark confines of the house she shares with no one. The runes she cast on the walls preserve the exterior from the destruction of the Darkhold, but she must quickly throw up a hex to disguise the interior as any other home.
The visitor knocks on the door again, and Wanda mutters under her breath, “I’m coming.”
When she opens the door, she finds quite possibly the last person she expected to see… well maybe the second to last.
“Clint,” she stands in the doorway, “I figured you never wanted to see me again.”
The archer shrugs stiffly, “Y/n asked me to check on you.”
Wanda hums quietly. Of course, you did. After everything she has done, you still thought about her first. He heart breaks all over again. She never deserved you.
The tension is thick in the air between them. He clenches his jaw. This is harder than he expected, after the way she treated you. He nods into the house, “may I?”
She stands aside, lifting an arm to invite him in. Her hex stands well. The house looks just as it did when you still lived here with her.
Clint looks around. He remembers the day he helped you move in. Smiling sadly, he lifts a photo of you and Natasha from a side table, “this is a good picture.”
“Yeah,” Wanda agrees. Her lips tremble.
He returns the frame to its place, “how have you been?”
She smiles tight lipped, “I’m staying busy. The trees are a lot of work.”
Its not a complete lie. They do require quite a bit of upkeep. You had cared for them before you left. Wanda wants to take care of them while you’re away. She just uses magic to do that. Then she can stay focused on her main task.
“I saw those. They’re looking good,” Clint nods. Small talk was never his specialty, but he just has to make sure she’s taking care of herself. “You take care of them all by yourself?”
“Did you really come all the way out here to talk about apple trees?” She is a bit over the pleasantries. He interrupted a very lovely dream-walk that she would love to get back to.
The archer straightens, “I came all the way out here because I love my sister.”
“and I don’t?” the witch asks curtly.
The archer pauses and considers his next words carefully. He relents with a sigh, “I never said that.” Whatever happened between you, you still loved Wanda with everything you had. As hard as it is, he wants to respect that. “She didn’t want you to be out here all alone.”
Wanda smiles genuinely this time, “you won’t have to worry about that much longer.”
Clint furrows his brow, tilting his head down, “what are you talking about?”
Wanda shakes her head with a sly smile, “wouldn’t you like to get your best friend back?”
It takes a few seconds for what she is implying to really sink into his brain, but when it does, deep concern floods his entire system.
“She is dead, Wanda,” he states flatly, “she’s gone forever.” His voice cracks as he forces the tears away.
“I’m gonna bring her back,” she whispers.
Clint shakes his head angrily, “it can’t be undone. It was an everlasting exchange. A soul for a soul-”
“I’m talking about that damn mountain,” she yells. She takes menacing steps towards him, but your brother manages to stand his ground. “I am the most powerful magic wielder on the planet. There is a way to bring her back, and I will find it.” Red wisps begin to dance between her fingers.
He searches her eyes for the person he once knew, but he is fairly certain she is lost. “How do you plan on doing that?” he asks.
The witch takes a step back, shrugging nonchalantly, “with this.” Slowly she brings down the hex to reveal the Darkhold and all its destruction.
Clint looks around frantically, trying to find something he recognizes, but the only thing he can find is Wanda and even she has been corrupted nearly beyond recognition.
“What is this?” he asks exasperated, “dark magic?!”
“Chaos magic, it’s the way I’m going to bring her home,” Wanda stands resolute.
The archer looks to her incredulously, “you can’t be serious. Have you even thought about Nat?”
“I think about her every day. I’m doing this for her.”
“Nat wouldn’t want this!” he tries to break through to her.
“Natasha’s not here!” Wanda takes a deep breath to calm herself. She can’t let her anger take over. If she ever harmed your brother (accidentally or not), you would never forgive her for that. Then all of this would be for naught.
“I am going to bring her back,” she states leaving no room for doubt, “and once we’re all together again, maybe we’ll invite you over to visit.”
Clint shakes his head attempting to approach, to try and reason with her, but he is quickly swept out of the house by a red mist.
Wanda’s voice follows him out the door, “it was nice to see you again, Clinton.”
Once he is out of her house, she returns to the Darkhold, more determined than ever to find the permanent solution to her problem. There has to be a way to bring her love home to her, and she must not stop until she finds it. She can’t afford to waste any more time dream-walking.
“I’m going to bring you back, my love,” she promises, “don’t worry, I’m going to bring you back.”
The lump in your throat appears to be permanent at this point.
Reaching into the cardboard moving box, you pull out an old worn-out SHIELD hoodie.
It was Natasha’s.
Bringing it to your nose, you inhale deeply, filling your lungs with her scent. You clutch the garment tight to your chest, as if it could fill the ever-gaping hole in your chest.
Without a fight, you lose the battle against the tears. Sobs rock your body as the wounds of grief open wide again. This pain is never-ending. Everywhere you look you find something that reminds you of the fact that Natasha’s not here.
Everything hurts all of the time, and you don’t even have Wanda to help when it does.
You both moved into the house not long after the final battle, and the only boxes left to go through were the boxes of Natasha’s things. Wanda had been helping, but she only lasted about 5 minutes before storming out of the house.
She won’t cry in front of you. Because if she does, she knows you will comfort her and the last thing she wants is comfort from you. She still resents you even if she won’t say it. You know she feels it.
The front door slams, and you are startled from your tears. Quickly, you wipe your cheeks and stand to put the hoodie away. You listen as heavy footsteps make their way through the house until they reach the door of the walk-in closet.
You turn and before you can say anything, Wanda has captured you in her arms, pressing her lips against yours frantically. At first, you lean into the touch, kissing her back. You’re starving for any kind of touch since the dry spell that she has subjected you to.
This is what she does now. She inflicts radio silence with no physical contact, until something happens and she needs to feel something other than grief or anger.
Every time she does this, you know who she really wants. She tells you when she whispers her name in your ear.
..and every time the pain comes back tenfold.
Still, you give her this. You let her strip you and have her way with you because it means you at least have her for a short while. If this is what she needs, you give it to her. You wrap around her and hold her bare body to yours knowing full well in the morning she will act as though it never happened.
Today, however, you can’t. The tears are still drying on your cheeks. The pain in your chest drowns out anything you could possibly feel between your legs.
When she reaches for the hem of your shirt, you grab her hands, “no, Wanda.”
She tries to kiss you through your protest. She holds you tightly as you push her shoulders.
“Not now, Wanda, please,” you pull yourself away from her enough to step back.
“I need this,” Wanda steps towards you, reaching for your face.
Shaking your head, you back away again, “I need you.”
She rolls her eyes, “then stop pushing me away.”
“No, Wanda!” you wipe away the tears that threaten to fall, “I need you here, actually here. I can’t keep living like this.”
You walk out of the closet, and Wanda follows you into your bedroom. “I am trying to be here for you, to help you when you need me, but I am grieving too, and I need you to actually be here with me.”
“You’re grieving?” she scoffs, “you don’t know grief. I have lost everyone I ever loved. All I had left was you and Natasha. You knew that, and still, you let her die!”
You release a long sigh. Finally, here it is. The moment she finally says what she has been thinking for the last several months.
“No, I didn’t,” you deny, “I tried to take her place. I wanted to jump, but she beat me. I did not let her die! I fought her for it-“
“Not hard enough,” she interrupts, “yeah, you fought, but you made sure that it was you who came back with that stone.” Her accusation hits you in the chest, and you have to catch your breath for a second.
“You think I want to be here?” you ask incredulously. “Do you honestly think I wanted to lose the love of my life, just to come back and have the other love of my life hate me?”
You wait for an answer, but she can’t give you one.
Wanda can’t even look at you. She doesn’t hate you. She knows she still loves you, but the pain and anger she has felt for months have festered and boiled until now they’re ready to blow. Grief clouds her judgement every second of the day. Even though she knows deep down that you aren’t really to blame, you’re the only one here to receive it.
“I didn’t want to be here! I would have gladly followed her over the edge of that cliff, but then you and everyone else would have stayed dead. Natasha would have given her life for nothing.”
“So, I came back to bring you back. Wanda, you're the only reason I have to left to be here. I just need you to meet me halfway."
When all you receive is silence, you whine in exasperation. You’ve met your end, “if there was some way, I could trade myself to bring her back to you, Wanda, I swear I would.”
Time stands still. Wanda looks up with ice in her glare. Before she can stop them, the words just tumble out, “I would too.”
The last remnants of your heart shatter. What was left of your heart belonged to Wanda, and she doesn’t want you here. The pain falls away, and all that you are left with is a numbness that spreads over you entirely.
You take a few heavy breaths and nod your head, “I’m gonna go.” You walk out of the bedroom, but before you leave the door, you turn back to face Wanda one last time, “I love you.”
Silence stretches as you wait for a response that never comes. Crying, you quickly grab your keys and head for the front door. You didn’t grab a single thing. Tears blur your vision as you drive away from the home that was supposed to be your forever with Wanda and Natasha.
Wanda stands frozen in the bedroom until she hears the car engine start and then slowly fade as you drove further and further away.
Now she is really alone. There is no one to hide her emotions from, so now she has no choice but to face them.
Wanda screams as she finally expresses everything she has held off for months. No one is here to stop her, so she lashes out. She throws everything her hands land on. She topples furniture, crying as her angers finally finds its outlet leaving her empty inside.
A red cloud extends in front of the Sokovian. She repeats the words she found in the book and watches as the cloud expands and forms an arch in front of her. A wild wind picks up around her. Unsuspecting items are lifted in the breeze and circle the witch as well as the quickly growing red mist.
The cloud grows through the house. It tears a part a wall, followed by the deconstruction of the rest of the house.
Wanda doesn’t care. She repeats the spell, red magic pouring from her hands.
Wanda hears yelled at her from the right. She turns away from the book to find Stephen Strange standing in the middle of her spell. Now thoroughly distracted, she loses her focus, and the red cloud shrinks back into nothing.
“What are you doing?” the sorcerer questions with his hands raised ready to intervene.
Her eyes glow bright red as anger courses through her. She was so close. “I am going to another reality to bring back my love,” she takes a deep breath and magic begins to flow from her hands.
“NO!” Stephen conjures magic cuffs that hamper Wanda’s powers.
She turns to him with daggers in her eyes, “let me go.”
“Wanda, this is a flagrant violation of every natural law,” he tries to reason, “you could destroy both universes. I cannot allow you to do this.”
Now, Wanda has had enough. She will get her partner back. Nothing and no one is going to change that. She clenches her jaw and breaks the magic restraints from her wrists, “and how are you going to stop me?”
With a wave of her hand, she sends the sorcerer flying away. Quickly she returns to the spell. The magic pours from her hands forming another red cloud in front of her. The longer she repeats the words, the cloud begins to take shape, creating an arch. The cloud begins to thin in the middle, and Wanda can almost see vague shadows of the reality she is connecting to.
Suddenly, a magic chain wraps around Wanda’s arm, pulling her focus from the portal again. She easily breaks it and redirects Stephen’s magic back towards him, but by the time she returns to the spell the portal is open to the alternate reality.
…the wrong alternate reality.
Wanda stares at the sight. This new Earth’s Natasha and you cuddling on a couch with two young boys. One boy is curled into your side, while the other lounges across both of your laps.
This isn't the universe she meant to conjure. She was looking for one where the three of you weren’t together yet to cause the other Wanda the least amount of suffering as possible. She didn’t want to break up a family.
“Wanda, you can’t,” Stephen calls from behind her. He is going to stop her. Its now or never. This reality will just have to do.
Wanda steps through the portal. “Detka,” she smiles.
Instantly, you and Natasha’s heads snap to the intruder. Panic and protectiveness flood your body. In an instant, the two of you jump from the couch, dragging your sons with you.
“Wanda!” Natasha calls for her wife who runs in from the kitchen.
“No!” this Wanda yells. Before she can do anything, the Scarlett Witch sends her flying into the back wall.
“Boys, get behind me!” you place yourself between this witch and the children. You slowly back them to the far side of the room as Natasha attacks the intruder.
“Wait, Natasha,” the witch blocks the widow’s hits and kicks, but won’t retaliate, “I don’t want to hurt you!” She uses her magic to lift the Russian into the air and hold her there in the center of the room.
You run and kick Wanda’s hand, “let her go!”
Wanda’s loose hold on Natasha releases, and the red head falls to the ground with a groan.
The boys run to check on her, but once they reach her, she quickly stands to guard them again. “Billy, Tommy, this way!” she pushes them back to the far side of the room.
You fight the witch, trying to drive her back through the portal she came from.
“Stop fighting me,” she blocks your attacks, but will not use her powers. “Please, Y/n,” she tries to speak with you, “wait, love. Stop.”
Unable to avoid your attacks any longer, Wanda reaches out and wraps you in her magic. She restrains you as gently as she can, trying to get through to you, “Y/n, listen to me!”
The witch halts. Nearly shocked still, she turns to see her Natasha stepping through the portal.
“Let her go,” The widow looks to her lover with a heavy sadness. The frown lines around her mouth and between her eyebrows are deeper than the last time Wanda saw her. Her eyes a dull shell of the light they used to hold, “that’s not our Y/n. Our Y/n is gone.”
“But I…” Wanda’s voice breaks. Her magic fades away and releases you from her hold. A tear falls from her eyes, and her lips tremble, “I have to bring her back.”
"I'm on my way."
"No, Clint," your hand is shaking as you hold the phone to your ear, "you don't have to do that."
You can hear him moving, talking to someone, most likely Laura. The sound of his keys jingling in his hand fill your ear, "I'm not letting you be alone right now."
"No, don't leave Laura and the kids," you have to hold him off. If he gets here, he will stop you. "Just check on her," you ask.
"Please Clint," you cut him off before he can object.
The archer sighs in frustration. He'd much rather lay into the Sokovian for hurting you, his baby sister with a heart three times too big for your little body. But, if you want him to check on her, then that's what he'll do.
"Ok," he yields, "I'll call her."
"Thank you, Clint," you whimper, "so much."
He thinks your thanking him for showing Wanda mercy, but you're thanking him for so much more than that, for being your protector, partner in crime, shoulder to cry on.
You're thanking him for being your big brother and best friend.
"Everything is gonna be ok," he comforts you, and your heart aches.
"I love you."
"I love you too kiddo."
You end the call and take a moment to accept that was the last time you'll speak to your brother.
Taking a deep breath, you turn to your friend, "ok, I'm ready."
“Y/n, I can’t,” Bruce shakes his head.
You stand in front of him in a Pym suit ready to do what needs to be done, “I have to do this, Bruce.”
You hand him three envelopes, each of their names written on one of them, Clint, Natasha, Wanda. “Give these to them after, please.”
“But…” he swallows, “they won’t survive this. You have to know that.”
Swatting away the tears, you smile sadly, “they’ll have each other, like it should have been in the first place." You hold out the envelopes again, "please, Bruce."
"Ok," he takes them and nods. “How do you know this will work?” he asks as you stand in the center of the platform.
"It has to," you shrug, “goodbye Bruce.”
Not knowing what to say, if there is anything to say, he begins his count down, as he finalizes the last of the settings, “in three, two, one.”
Bruce presses the last button, and you’re gone. He looks down and sighs at the loss of yet another friend.
“Goodbye, Y/n.”
The phone picks up after the first ring.
“Have you heard from Y/n?” Wanda asks hastily as soon as the call connects.
It’s been 3 hours and 27 minutes since you walked out of the house. The argument had exploded faster than either of you could comprehend, and you both needed space.
After half an hour, Wanda had calmed down enough to think about what happened, and the guilt followed immediately.
She was horrified. She is horrified with herself and the words that came out of her mouth. She hurt you when you were already broken. She’s been hurting you this entire time, and she hates herself for it.
In tears, she paced around the home and clutched her phone waiting for any word from you. She called. She texted. She sent voice messages, emails, private chats on every social media platform. Hoping for any response from you.
When you still weren’t home an hour later, Wanda grabbed the keys and started driving. She checked every bar, every restaurant, every coffee shop, anywhere you possibly could have gone. She’s called everyone, but no one has seen you.
She answered the phone desperately when she saw the caller ID. If anyone had heard from you, it would be your brother.
“I’ve been looking for her everywhere,” her voice is distraught and panic riddles her body, “she won’t answer any of my calls, and she turned off her location on her phone and I need to find her ……. we got in a fight, and-“
“Yeah, I know,” Clint interrupts, “she called me. She asked me to check on you.” He tries to treat her how his sister asked him to but knowing how Wanda has treated her makes that near impossible. “I think its best if you give her some space-“
“Please Clint,” the witch begs, “I have to talk to her. I said something horrible. I didn’t mean it. I have to tell her I didn’t mean it. Please, Clint. She has to know.”
The archer takes a deep breath. When the three of you got together, he thought that your love was indestructible, but how could he have ever predicted this. A tragedy like this and its ripple effect are unpredictable.
“She said she was going to stay at the compound for a bit,” Clint admits. He’s not sure if telling Wanda is right or not, but if there is a chance to save your relationship, he has to risk it. You and Wanda need each other if you’re going to heal from this.
The Sokovian lets out a cry of relief, “thank yo-“
“Wanda,” he stops her with his voice cool as ice, “you either fix this or stay the hell away from her. Don’t hurt her again.”
“I’m gonna fix it,” she whips the car around and drives straight for the compound.
“I’m gonna fix it.”
Rocks crunch underneath your boot as you climb.
You look straight ahead. You’ve seen enough of this mountain in your nightmares.
“Y/n, daughter of Edith,” the floating black cloaked man greets.
Coming to a stop in front of him, you stare into his eyes, “I’m here for a trade. Me for her.”
He chuckles morbidly, “child, what you seek is impossible.”
“Bull shit,” you interrupt, “you said to take the stone, one of us had to die. A soul for a soul. Why do you care who’s soul it is?”
He stares at you silently, expression almost bare.
"I was here that day. I jumped too," you argue, "I jumped first. It should have been me."
Your suddenly filled with anxiety. This has to work. You have to make it work.
"I am going over that ledge," you assert, "and there's no one here to take the stone, so you'll have an extra soul. That has to have some negative affect according to the laws of universal balance or some shit. So, what are you gonna do about it?"
The wind blows all around, while you watch the guide weigh his options in his head.
He releases a deep breath, “as you wish.”
You turn to the cliff.
“but know, Y/n, daughter of Edith,” he calls. You look over your shoulder, “this will be an everlasting exchange. There will be no reversal this time.”
Clenching your jaw, you nod and walk to the edge.
When she runs through the compound doors, Wanda’s not sure where to go. She darts up to the shared room you and Natasha had stayed in for the 5 years she had been gone. Opening the door, she finds the room empty. She checks the common area, the kitchen, the library, and still you are nowhere to be found.
Frustrated, she turns to the AI hoping it is still functional, “Friday, where is Y/n?”
There is a long pause before the monotone voice rings through the room, “Agent Y/L/N is in the hangar with Dr Banner.”
Before Friday has finished the sentence, Wanda has taken off through the compound. She cannot get through the building fast enough. She pushes every door open with her magic before she gets to it. The elevator takes the longest, and the Sokovian paces the small space the entire time. When the doors open, she runs.
Wanda is nearing the hangar doors when a familiar voice stops her in her tracks. It’s a voice she thought she would never hear again.
“What happened? How did I get back? Where is everyone?”
“Hold on, there’s something I need to tell you. Wait, Nat.”
At the sound of her name, Wanda bursts through the doors and whimpers at the sight in front of her.
Natasha is walking away from Bruce, well the hulk technically, and towards the exit. She stops when her eyes fall upon Wanda. Her lover she hasn’t seen since Thanos snapped his fingers. She’s still confused, but that can all wait.
“Wanda,” she whispers through a watery smile.
The witch is snapped out of her shock and runs for the Russian. She wraps her arms around her girlfriend’s neck. “Tasha,” she cries into the older woman’s neck.
"It worked," Natasha whispers with a grin, "we won."
The two hold each other tight, tears of relief streaming down their faces. Neither of them believed they would ever see the other again, and yet here they both were.
"How?" Wanda pulls back to look up happily confused, “how did you get here?”
“You got what you wanted.”
The two women turn to Bruce who they had honestly forgotten was there. His eyes bear into Wanda.
During the whole reunion, he sat back and watched solemnly. Everyone had seen the tension between you and Wanda since Natasha had sacrificed herself. He had no idea how bad it actually was until you came to him with tears in your eyes and a request.
No one else knew. They would have stopped you.
“What?” Wanda asks breathlessly.
“You got what you wanted,” he repeats with a bitter aftertaste to his words, “or should I say who you wanted.”
The momentary relief is shattered as Wanda stares back at her lover, speechless.
"What are you talking about?" Natasha looks past the witch expecting to see you right behind her, but there’s no one. She looks to Wanda, “where’s Y/n?”
Wand falls to her knees as the ground is seemingly ripped from under her. Natasha catches her and lowers them both to the ground, looking between her friend and her lover, “what’s going on?”
The pieces seem to fall in place, and Wanda is faced with pure horror. “No, no, no, no, no, I didn’t…” she looks up to Bruce, pleading that this isn’t true. It can’t be true. “Please, I didn’t mean it. I came here to tell her I didn’t mean it!”
“It's too late,” the doctor feels his anger melt into pity. Looking at her, he can see how sorry she is, but it’s too late for regrets, “you said it, and she loved you enough to make it happen.”
“What are you talking about?” Natasha asks. She’s still waiting for an answer to where her other partner is. Her brain works overtime, and she eventually catches up to their vague conversation. She puts the pieces together herself.
Then the terror sets in. “Where is Y/n?” she asks Bruce desperately. With tears already brimming in her eyes, Natasha looks to Wanda, “what did you say?”
The younger woman tries to bury her face in her hands, but the widow pulls them away.
"Wanda, what did you say?!"
What’s left of Wanda breaks. She crumples even further into the ground as a primal scream is torn from her chest.
“She’s gone, Wanda,” Natasha speaks calmly, trying to talk her partner back from this ledge, “our Y/n is gone. She’s not coming back.”
The Scarlet Witch shakes her head. She can’t give up, not when she is this close.
“No, I can bring her back. See!” She motions towards this Earth’s version of you, “I found her. We just have to take her back with us. We just have to bring her home.”
She turns back to you. The other Wanda stands in front of you protectively. With the flick of a wrist, she sends her flying and reaches out to you. “Come, detka,” she says sweetly. You’re finally here, in front of her.
She walks towards you but stops when you step back. Her smile waivers, “come with us, Y/n.”
“No, mama!” young voices plead.
You and the Scarlet Witch look over to the boys in the corner. They reach out for you, while this Natasha shields them with her body. The other Wanda has made it back to her feet and quickly resumes her position in front of you.
The witch takes a step back, and the rest of your family surrounds you. Tommy and Billy each cling tightly to your sides. Natasha wraps herself around all three of you, while also guarding you from the intruder.
“Come with us,” Wanda turns her attention back to you. She only has to convince you, but the conflicted look in your eyes makes her falter.
Why would you come with her? With your family fighting and clinging to you, why would you choose to leave them?
Her lips tremble in desperation, “please Y/n, please come back with us.” She falls to her knees and continues to beg, “I’m sorry, come back with us please... I’m sorry, Y/n please… Please come back to us.” Her anger falls away and she shakes with tears, “come back to us. I’m sorry, Y/n. I’m sorry, please come back.”
As her pleas fall into sobs, you can tell she is no longer speaking to you. She is calling for the one she really wants, the you that is gone.
“COME BACK, Y/N,” Wanda cries out into the multiverse as if you could hear her, “I’M SORRY, Y/n... I’m sorry. I love you; please come back.” A massive sobs washes over her body and she doubles over in pain. The tears are endless. She has no choice but to finally accept it.
She lost you.
The sight of her broken is too much for this Earth’s you. She’s not your wife, but she was obviously yours in this other world. You can’t stand to see her in pain.
You start to step out of your family’s arms, and they all protest. “She's grieving. She won’t hurt me,” you reassure them, "its ok."
Approaching slowly, you get a closer look at this version of your wife and your heart breaks. The discoloration of her hands. The way her thin frame tells you she isn’t eating. The shake of her shoulders as she sobs. The way this pain has devoured her.
Gently, you caress her face with one hand, using your thumb to wipe away tears as they fall. With renewed sobs, Wanda brings her black tipped fingers to cover your hand.
It doesn’t feel like you, not her you, not exactly, but its close enough. She’ll cherish whatever you give her, knowing after this she’ll never feel your touch again.
“You’ve lost so much,” you lower yourself in front of her and look into her eyes, “I’m so sorry I’ve added to your suffering, my dear.”
Wanda cries, “I hurt you. I should have held you and told you how much I loved you. I didn’t. I hurt you, and now I…. I can- I can never take it back. I can never apologize.”
You take her face into both of your hands, “you are forgiven.”
Wanda pulls away from you, shaking her head, “you don’t know what I did."
“No,” you sigh, “but I know the fire with which every version of me loves every version of you. I promise, you are forgiven.”
Wanda’s fingers reach for you tenderly hoping to feel some of this love, even if only by proxy.
You don’t move as she closes the distance and wraps her arms around your shoulders. You let her hold you, let her take the comfort she needs from you.
“Please, don't leave me. I need you,” she whimpers against your shoulder, “I have nothing.”
Gently, you rub her back, “you will be ok; you have each other.”
Wanda shakes her head against your shoulder in a silent denial.
You look up quickly to find the Natasha from the other reality, still standing at the portal entrance. The pain you find in her eyes nearly brings tears to your own.
Natasha swallows thickly, the dull ache of betrayal weighing heavily on her. What hurts the most is the way her betrayal is pointed to the partner in your arms.
The ringing in Natasha’s ears feels like it’ll drive her deaf. The thundering of horse’s hooves might as well be a lullaby compared to the pounding of her heart at this very moment. Drying tear tracks cool the redness of her cheeks.
"Show me."
Wanda shakes her head, "please, not again." She can't rewatch that memory anymore. She just can't.
The widow stares blankly ahead as her mind numbly takes in all that has transpired in the last hour. “I’m just trying to understand…”
The fight had erupted wildly. It began with Natasha asking Wanda to tell her what happened yet again, and it ended with the swapping of memories.
Natasha showed Wanda what happened on Vormir.
Wanda showed Natasha that last conversation with you.
This was the spark that lit the bomb. Natasha’s feelings of betrayal and Wanda’s growing guilt battled it out until they were both wounded.
Wanda was grappling with the consequences of her actions, and Natasha pressing her for answers she didn’t have.
“I don’t know,” Wanda whimpers. How many times had she said those three words tonight? She can’t understand it either.
“…I know you loved her. I know how much you loved her,” Natasha says with an even tone. Her voice is scratchy from yelling, and her throat is hoarse.
“I just don’t understand how you can love her that much and still do what you did. I was at peace knowing you would lean on each other and love each other through the pain and still heal and find happiness. I trusted you with her, and I just don’t understand how I was this wrong.”
“I don’t know,” Wanda replies, “I was hurting so much. I lost you just like I lost everyone else-“
Natasha stands, “but you didn’t lose everyone! You still had her!”
“I know!”
“She was right there, Wanda, and she was in pain,” the widow paces the living room. Her words are angry daggers that hit the other woman right in the heart, “she was drowning in guilt, she was begging for you to help her, she needed you and you hurt her.”
Her tone raises as she continues, and the emotion builds as she tries to imagine what you went through. “You punished her and blamed her for something I did. I jumped off that mountain. I SAVED HER... and you told her she should have been the one to die. That wasn’t your decision to make!”
“I know!”
“How could you say that?!”
The witch stands, feeling as though she’ll burst any minute, “I DON’T KNOW!”
Her voice echoes against the walls, “I’ll never know! I’ll never understand why I didn’t cling to her, thanking every god that I still had her. I don’t know how I could have pushed her away or hurt her that way. I will hate myself for the rest of my life!”
The widow was going to interrupt, but she pauses. The witch’s self-loathing causes her to take a step back.
“If I could go back and change it, I would!” she yells, “I would hold her and tell her that is wasn't her fault. I would tell her how much I love her. But I can’t, and I am never going to forgive myself!”
Natasha sighs in despair. She sits down, tightly grasping the letter you left her.
In it, you apologized for reversing her sacrifice. You apologized for not being enough to get Wanda through this like she had said you would. You tell her how much you love her and hope she will be happy. At the end, you ask her to forgive Wanda, to please not blame her for your decision.
… and she is trying.
“Would you have said it to me?” the assassin asks quietly. “If she had beaten me on Vormir, and I was the one who survived, would you have said it to me?” She doesn’t know which answer would be better. At this point, she’s not entirely sure that it matters.
“I can't believe I said it to her,” fresh tears fall down the Sokovian’s face. The guilt is suffocating her. She just wishes it would drown her already, so she can be with you again.
In your letter to her, you promised that you didn’t blame her and that she shouldn’t feel guilty. You say you love her and just want her to be happy, but she never will be. Not without you. You loved her and forgave her, but she knew she didn’t deserve it.
“I love you, Wanda,” Natasha breaks the silence. There’s a finality in her tone.
Wanda’s blood runs cold.
She’s been expecting this. They have danced around each other for over a month. They’re trying to do what you asked them to, but maybe the cracks run too deep.
“I love you,” she repeats softly, “and I want to forgive you….. but I need time.”
With that, Natasha grabs her keys and leaves.
Wanda stares at the door blankly. This is her worst nightmare. Now, she really has lost everyone.
This, she ruined this. She has no one to blame but herself.
“Forgive her, Tasha,” you reach out for the redhead. She kneels in front of you, shuddering when you reach out to wipe a tear from her cheek. “Please, I can’t bear the thought of you being alone.”
She rests her forehead against yours.
You cup her cheek sweetly, “I know I would want you to be happy, together. I would die for it.”
“You did,” Natasha’s voice is barely over a whisper.
You nod in understanding. Your heart breaks even more for them. Their universe has been so unkind to them. Smiling sadly, you lift Natasha’s hand for her to look at you, “then grant me this last wish?”
She cries freely, but nods, “I promise.”
You look back to Wanda in your arms, "time to say goodbye, my love."
She holds you tighter, trying to memorize the feel of holding you against her.
Natasha gathers Wanda in her arms, “you have to close the portal, lyubov.” The two of them watch through the slowly closing window, as your family surrounds again in a tight embrace.
You smile to them, wanting that to be the last image they hold of you.
Once the portal has completely dissipated the Darkhold falls to the ground, closed.
Stephen approaches it carefully, lifting it from the ground, “we must destroy this.”
Wanda nods in understanding.
“Can we not do this now?” Natasha’s exhausted voice questions.
“Of course,” he steps back, “we’ll guard it in the sanctum until you are ready.” Quietly he opens a portal and leaves.
Left alone, Wanda breaks all over again. She clings tightly to Natasha as the sobs shake her entire body. The older woman holds her, rocking back and forth soothingly. She chokes out reassurances as she tries not to cry herself.
“It’s gonna be ok,” she whispers, but the Sokovian shakes her head against her chest, “it will. We’ll get through this.”
“Together,” she rubs her back, “I promise, we’re both staying right here.”
The witch looks up slightly. She assesses the damage she has caused with Darkhold. The house she shared with you is in pieces, practically gone. A whine slips up her throat. You loved this house, and she’s destroyed it.
“What have I done?” she cries, “our home.”
“We’ll rebuild.” Natasha sits resolute, being the support her partner needs.
Wanda curls into Natasha as a fresh wave of grief hits her. “Y/n,” she whimpers into the Russian’s chest.
The widow can only hold her tighter, “I know.”
Natasha and Wanda sit there for a very long time. Nat holds her while she breaks down. Wanda eventually calms down enough to talk about how she is feeling.
Sitting in the rubble, they take the first step towards healing, together.
A/N: ...and yes, they rebuild the home. Apples do bloom on the trees. Many years later, maybe they have the twin boys they saw in the alternate reality. They also maybe have a baby girl. Her name is Y/n, and they hold her just a bit tighter.
.... :) anyway, I hope you guys liked it! let me know what you think!
743 notes · View notes
ayameric · 7 months
Natasha: Sweetheart, why are you throwing your meds in the trash?
Y/N: Mental Health Awareness month.
Natasha: ...
Y/N: And y’all about to be VERY aware
2K notes · View notes
Wanda: Are you seducing me?
Y/n eating a bag of chips in a hoodie and baggy pants: I’m not trying to seduce you, I don't think
Nat: Dude she's hitting on you
Y/n throwing the chips away: Would you like me to seduce you?
Nat: Idiots *leaves*
Wanda: So you do like me?
Y/n: I'm so confused but yeah I think you're hot sure
Wanda: Great! I'll meet you at 8 for our date later *happily jogs out of the room*
Tony: Congrats kid, you got the hot witch to date you, how do you feel?
Y/n: I thought she was dating that robot
2K notes · View notes
honey-sweet-hiraeth · 6 months
 To Hate You Back (N.R.)
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Summary: Natasha Romanoff has hated you since you met... Eventually you try to return the sentiment. Then one day with a lie, some self endangerment and a bit of blood loss, you begin to understand each other better.
Warnings: SMUT (18+) Minors DNI, Oral (r giving), Fingering (r giving), very soft, like really soft at the end, Stab Wound, Blood, Stitches, Nat Talks About Getting Shot, Scar (singular), A Little Angsty, R is a Little Shit (sorta), So is Tony (sorta), Enemies to Lovers??? (I think), absolutely awful flirting with a dangerous angry assassin lady. ALSO- a really weird sparring scene (yes it needs a warning)
Words: About 8,200
A/n: Hey look! I wrote something. I hate that it has taken me so long to write and finish anything and I'm so sorry about that. I'm trying, I promise I am. I have no clue when I'll continue/finish Breathe. It'll happen one day, maybe. Anywho- I'm still writing. Annnnd now I've written smut!! This is my first time posting smut so I uh- I hope you like it.
Clint was the first to hear of Natasha's distaste for the agent she'd been going on missions with lately, then it was Steve, then Wanda, then Tony, pretty soon everyone knew. 
Which was exactly why they all seemed so shocked that you were so.... Likeable.
You were intelligent, Kind and honest. Not to mention funny, passionate and skilled. You didn't take yourself too seriously and quite frankly it was hard to tell you were the agent that Fury held in such high regard.
With the way Fury spoke so highly of you and the way Natasha complained, they were expecting someone more arrogant and self absorbed. To be fair, being called Fury's prodigy agent was bound to go to anybody's head.
But you were pretty much the opposite of what the Avengers had been led to believe.
May 27th-
When Fury found out about Natasha's feelings toward you, he laughed and immediately informed you that you would be joining the Avengers.
"Ex-excuse me?” Your eyes widened and you stumbled back.
"You heard me y/l/n" Fury returned to his regular more rigid demeanor, "Starting tomorrow you're an Avenger. We'll be moving your things to the compound shortly."
"Sir I don't think you understand" You sighed "Romanoff is going to kill me"
"Not if you kill her first" He gave you a look and you raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
"Are you joking?" You asked incredulously and Fury chuckled roughly under his breath.
"Agent Romanoff will learn to like you" He shrugged "Unfortunately for both of you, you work well together so you'll be working together a lot anyway. She'll have plenty of opportunities to get used to you"
"I don't think getting used to me will solve anything" You groaned and the look Fury gave you should have placated you, but given your more... Complicated relationship with the man. You were rather used to it.
"Agent y/l/n" He spoke professionally but the undertone of his voice was akin to begging. "I know you'll find a way to make it work. Just get out of my office and start packing"
June 18th-
"I'm going to kill her" Natasha growled as she made her way into Clint's room and flopped on his bed where he was sitting, reading a file.
"She's not that bad" Clint shrugged, earning a deadly glare from the redhead that he seemed to miss. "What'd she do this time?"
"You should've seen it" Nat rolled her eyes "She and Wanda were in the kitchen 'talking' If you could even call it that."
Clint raised an eyebrow at the mention of the other redhead. He had to admit he felt sort of protective of Wanda, ever since she lost Pietro.
"Go on" He urged and Natasha groaned.
"They were all over each other Clint!" She threw her hands around rapidly "y/l/n practically had her hand down Wanda's pants"
Clint threw his head back in a laugh. Of all the things you did that seemed to piss Natasha off, your banter with the others was the one he always heard about. 
"That's not even close to the truth now is it?" Clint smirked and Natasha rolled her eyes. 
"They were making sandwiches and bumping into each other" Tony appeared in the doorway with a smirk. "Then they were joking about their similar eating habits."
"Ugh" Natasha rolled over and sighed "She's a bigger flirt than you are Stark, and it's ridiculous"
"Maybe you should ask her out." Tony laughed as Natasha threw him a glare. 
"Why the hell would I do that?" The redhead nearly hissed at the idea. 
"With the way she takes your attitude toward her with so much humor, I would bet she likes you, and you seem pretty obsessed with her" Tony shrugged and smirked as he got the reaction he was looking for.
"I am not!" Natasha sat up defensively. 
"All I'm saying is you're a little too focused on her flirting habits for someone who isn't at least a little bit attracted to her" Tony chuckled as Nat scoffed, turning away from him. "Don't be embarrassed Nat, Have you seen her? You'd be an idiot to not wanna bang her. Hell I would do it"
"Shut up" Natasha snapped and pushed past him through the doorway, effectively ending the conversation.
July 22nd-
You panted lightly as Steve made another move, swinging his fist in your direction, only hitting air as you darted around him. You landed a hard jab to his ribs and he turned, trying to grab your wrist as you swung at him. 
His success was short lived as you flipped him on his back with a surprising amount of force. The sound of his back hitting the mat along with the groan that followed echoed through the empty training room.
"Give up yet, Rogers?" You smirked and he nodded decisively, causing you to immediately switch from your fighting stance to a more relaxed state as you helped him up.
"You're a really good fighter" He smiled as you waved him off "No really, you're not even enhanced as far as we know and the only other person who can take me down like that is Nat"
At the mention of her name you tensed again and nodded stiffly.
"Cool" You gave Steve a tight smile and a high five before you made your way to the punching bags, secretly thankful that Steve hadn't followed you and instead headed in the opposite direction, toward the treadmills.
You worked out in silence for a while when the doors to the training room opened, catching your attention. At the sight of the cold, always angry redhead, you groaned.
Of course it had to be Natasha. You couldn't go half a day without seeing her and having some sort of tense, semi aggressive interaction.
Steve smiled at you with a mischief you didn't recognize on the man before turning to Nat.
"Feel like sparring?" He grinned and Nat raised an eyebrow at him.
"Yes actually" She smiled "Feel like getting your ass handed to you?"
"Not really" Steve matched her smirk. "Y/n already took me down twice this morning. I bet you two are well matched for sparring. And she seems like she'd be down to fight you."
Natasha glared at Steve as you looked up in shock.
"Alright" Natasha turned to you with a scowl. "I'd never miss an opportunity to beat up y/l/n"
"You're too kind" You rolled your eyes and made your way to the mats, getting ready for what you were sure was going to be the beating of your lifetime.
Natasha met you at the mats and matched your position before darting forward with no warning to land a blow to your jaw. You took a few steps back in shock and scoffed.
"I knew you liked it rough Romanoff but I didn't know you liked it dirty too" You chuckled before dodging her attempt to knock you down, spinning out of her reach before stepping behind her and locking your arm over the base of her neck, applying light pressure. Not enough to hurt her, but enough to choke her lightly and tell her you could hurt her if you wanted to.
Your other hand rested on her hip and you didn't miss the way she squirmed under your touch. It wasn't the discomfort of hatred you were expecting to see in her body language. Quite the opposite actually. 
"Do-" Your mouth dropped open before a smirk took over your features. "Do you like that, Romanoff?"
You squeezed her hip and added more pressure to her throat, and bit your lip when you heard Natasha's breathing hitch before she quickly regained her focus and flipped you on your back, making you gasp for air as she straddled your stomach, pinning your hands above your head.
Natasha took a moment to appreciate how shocked you looked by the way she'd thrown you down. You were breathing heavily and your eyes were closed tight as you tried to regain your composure. She scolded herself when her mind wandered briefly to a more enjoyable activity that could be done in that position and pulled her focus back to fighting you.
She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion when you smirked up at her and she was about to ask what you were so smug about when she gasped as you arched your back suddenly in order to flip the two of you over. 
'Maybe Tony was right', some god awful part of her brain thought before she quickly dismissed the idea, trying to ignore the butterflies she felt as she noticed the position she was now in.
Your hands on her wrists, her legs around your waist, and her back pressed firmly to the mat by the weight of your body that was settled between her thighs.
You smirked down at her and you both seemed to just sit there forever. Your eyes involuntarily dropped to Natasha's lips as her gaze fell to yours. You were both breathing heavily and neither of you could tell if it was due to the sparring or the tension that had thickened in the air. 
"Uh" Steve's voice immediately knocked you both out of your trance as you pulled yourself off of Natasha and she sat up on the mat. "I think it's safe to say you could both hold your own against each other"
Steve shuffled awkwardly and Natasha scoffed.
"Whatever, she got lucky, I was distracted" Natasha snapped and you smirked.
"What exactly was distracting you Natasha?" You asked, drawing out the syllables of her name. 
Natasha rolled her eyes and huffed. 
"Nothing special, that much is for sure" She raised an eyebrow as she spoke pointedly, unknowingly giving you the exact answer you wanted. 
"Chto by vy ni govorili, malyshka. (Whatever you say babygirl)" You chuckled as her head snapped toward you at how fluent her native language sounded coming from you. "Y'know I'm starting to think you secretly like me"
"In your dreams" Natasha scoffed as you got up off the mat, heading to the exit, turning to stare the redhead directly in the eyes.
"Only the dirty ones" You winked and ducked out the door before she could react, running down the hallway in fear of being chased, or Steve following you out there to lecture you about teasing the 'Great Black Widow' like that. 
Steve did not follow you however, opting to instead burst into laughter at the sight of a very flustered Natasha Romanoff.
"I didn't know you could blush Nat '' He chuckled, earning a not-so-kind look from the redhead.
"I don't know what you're talking about '' She snapped and pushed herself off the ground before stomping out of the room, no longer in the mood for her workout. 
August 4th-
You rushed off the Quinjet and into the Compound, moving as fast as your legs would carry you. An angry- no - Livid Natasha right on your heels.
"Help!" You yelped and rushed behind a very confused and very concerned Steve and Wanda.
"Y/l/n!" Natasha growled from across the room as she slowed down, eyeing you like a predator would it's annoyingly evasive prey. "I'm going to take you down, drag you out of here and break you with my bare hands."
You couldn't help the smirk that took over your face as you raised an eyebrow.
"Say that again, that sounded good" You bit your lip at the glare the assassin sent your way. You had to admit, it was kind of hot. 
Wanda and Steve shared a look as if to say 'are they always that flirty?' before both of them stepped to the side, leaving you open for Natasha to rush at you.
"Traitors! " You yelped and ran around the counter to avoid the Black Widow's wrath.
"Stop running so I can kill you!" Natasha growled and you yelped again as you narrowly avoided her grip. 
"While getting brutally murdered by you would be a lovely way to go" You smirked "I'm gonna keep running"
With that you rushed out of the room and down the hall, trying to get to your room so you could lock Natasha out before she got to you. 
Just before you reached the safety of your room, a hand wrapped around your wrist, spinning you around as Natasha pinned you against the wall.
"What the hell were you thinking?" Natasha hissed under her breath and your breathing hitched as you noticed just how close she was. "I could've handled that, you didn't need to rush in there half cocked"
"I was thinking you were surrounded by HYDRA agents, and while I'm sure that if the roles were reversed you'd grab some popcorn and enjoy the show, I personally didn't want to watch you get your ass beat" You snapped and Natasha's eyes widened.
"What's that supposed to mean?" She sounded confused, which only made you angrier. It was like every time Natasha had said something snarky about you had built up and all the pent up frustration finally came to a head. 
"It means that while you might be content to hate me all your life- some stupid little part of me likes you, and I like you enough to notice when you're overwhelmed, whether or not you'll let go of your pride and admit it." Your voice raised a little and Natasha stepped back, making room for you to step forward, taking your turn to invade her personal space. "It means that I care about you enough to step in and help, despite the fact that you've done nothing but hate on me and make me second guess myself, since the moment we met."
You were inches apart and Natasha was searching your eyes with an unreadable expression. Your breathing was slow but your heart was beating faster than ever before, so hard you could feel your pulse in every individual nerve in your body.
"You think I'm a bitch" It wasn't a question and you hated that Natasha seemed hurt about it.
"I don't think you're a bitch" You softened for a moment before starting to slowly work yourself up again. "At first I thought it was a defense mechanism, maybe you were just rough around the edges or something because you didn't like new people. Hell, assassin's are trained not to like new people. Then I thought maybe you didn't want to catch yourself making friends with anyone so you were acting up to keep me at arm's length. Then Tony tried to tell me you were acting out because you wanted to fuck me, and i thought maybe you were upset cause Tony kept insisting we need to hook up. Now i don't know- Now i just think you hate me"
Natasha stared up at you in shock. Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she searched for something to say.
"I- I don't-'' She tried to speak but you cut her off. 
"And let me tell you, I've been trying so hard not to take it personally, I thought of everything that could have happened to make you angry with me and how to fix it. I have kept trying to talk to you and be nice but I can't handle it anymore. Okay? I give up." You were almost whispering at this point, your body so tense one could swear you were made of stone, a startling contrast to your usual mellow state of existence.
Natasha had been reduced to silence as you kept ranting onward, sounding defeated. A longing, almost sad look on her face. 
"I stopped trying to talk to you and started to avoid you and you seemed to seek me out just to antagonize me and I've tried taking it in stride. Tried giving you time to warm up to me. I'm starting to think my only option is to hate you back. Is- is that what you want?" You kept your face as neutral as possible to avoid her seeing just how upset you really were.
"Y/n..." Natasha reached hesitantly out to take your hand but you flinched away. 
"Don't patronize me Romanoff" You sighed and stared into her guilty eyes. 
"I-" Natasha paused, unsure of how to move forward.
"It's fine" You barely spoke at all, whispering more to yourself than to the redhead in front of you. 
You turned around and walked into your room with a long drawn out sigh. You were tired and angry and you desperately wanted a shower so you could take a nap and maybe distract yourself from the way you were reeling from your pent up emotions. 
September 16th.... Six Long Weeks Later-
You sighed softly as you turned the shower on and stepped under the stream of hot water that nearly scalded your skin. You didn't mind the pain though. You embraced it, knowing it would help relax your tense, achy muscles. 
You had been taking missions left and right in order to avoid talking about anything but work with Natasha, you didn't want to fight with her again and you were starting to get fed up with the way she kept staring you down with guilt written over her features. 
She was the one that started this, she didn't get to feel bad now. 
You took your time, letting yourself relax a little before getting out of the shower nearly an hour later, wrapping your towel around your body and stepping out of the bathroom.
"What in the motherfuck-" You jumped, hand on your chest, completely startled by the presence waiting for you. Sitting on your bed and leaning against the wall. "The hell are you doing here?"
Natasha's eyes moved to meet yours and she couldn't help but notice that your towel only went down about a quarter of your thighs. She had to fight herself not to stare at the long stretch of your legs that were uncovered.
It took a few moments before you realized her eyes were a little unfocused, her breathing was unsteady and there was a dark red spot taking over the side of her stomach, staining her grey tank top. She looked a little beaten up and battered, causing you to eye her suspiciously. 
"Why are you bleeding in my bedroom?" You raised an eyebrow and she glanced around your room, avoiding eye contact. 
"I went to check out a little HYDRA facility, it was supposed to be empty" She admitted neutrally but you noticed the slight shake to her voice. "I wasn't really paying attention. An agent saw me and caught me off guard. It was stupid but i didn't hear him coming, i was a little too in my head."
"The great Natasha Romanoff made a mistake?" You chuckled, enjoying the way she squirmed in your presence. "That doesn't explain why you're here and not in the Med Bay with Bruce"
"Bruce isn't here, you're the only other one that can give stitches that actually look decent and wont scar too much." Natasha glanced up at you and to you it seemed like she felt uncomfortable asking you any favors. 
You walked into your closet and put on some denim shorts and an oversized hoodie, feeling a little awkward about standing there in just a towel.
When you got back, you took a moment to enjoy the new dynamic. For once it felt like you actually had the upper hand. Then you noticed the way Natasha was swaying from blood loss and your smugness immediately gave way to worry. 
You rushed back into your bathroom and grabbed your sewing kit and some antiseptic before moving into the room and in front of Natasha, grabbing the hem of her shirt and tugging it up lightly. 
"Take this off" You ordered and she glared up at you.
"Excuse me?" Her voice lowered dangerously and you chuckled softly. 
"If I'm giving you stitches I need to be able to get to your wound." You explained and the redhead nodded slowly in apprehension. You tugged at her shirt again. "Come on tough chick, shirt off and then i need you to lay down on the bed"
You tried not to stare as you helped Natasha slowly pull her top over her head. The sight of her newly exposed skin almost made you dizzy. If it weren't for the gaping stab wound on her stomach the sight would've been heaven. 
Natasha slowly laid back on the bed, wincing as she moved and you pulled your chair from your desk over to the bed, sitting down and inspecting the damage. 
"Holy shit, what the hell did he stab you with, a katana?!" You gently cleaned the blood from her skin, not missing the way she seemed to relax under your touch, despite you actively prodding at her freshly stabbed torso.
"Some sort of dagger, definitely wasn't your average knife" Natasha gasped as you poured your antiseptic over her stomach. Her back arched and you gently pressed her body back into the mattress with your hand on the side of her ribs. Her breathing hitched and she swallowed thickly. 
"Okay, stop wiggling, I'm gonna start." You breathed out slowly before finally pressing the needle through her skin. 
Natasha hissed and bit her lip, her body was tense and you paused as she got used to the sting of your sewing needle. 
After a few moments she let out a sigh and closed her eyes, waving for you to continue. 
"Are you okay?" You nearly whispered after a long silence while you stitched her up with the utmost care. 
"Define okay," Natasha grunted as the needle pierced her skin again. "Physically, Mentally or Emotionally?"
"All of the above?" You smiled softly at Natasha, glancing at her before focusing back on the task at hand.
"Why do you care?" Natasha grumbled and you felt a pang of guilt at her tone. "You hate me, remember?"
"Hating you is a lot harder than it should be" You were slightly surprised at how gentle and sincere you sounded at the moment. Natasha was staring at you with an unreadable expression and you cleared your throat awkwardly as you finished stitching her up.  "Stay here, i'm gonna find some cream and bandages. I don't want to see any signs that you've moved when I get back"
"What'll you do if I move?" You gave Natasha a stern look as you stood, making her raise an eyebrow in challenge.
"Considering how intense that stab wound is, the pain from moving would be punishment enough" You sighed and left the room, jogging to the med bay determined to get the things you needed and get back as fast as possible. 
"Hey Bruce" You greeted softly as you sped through the med bay to the medical storage, locating the bandages and numbing cream and grabbing them before the realization that Bruce was there even hit. 
"Hold on" You backpedaled out of the storage area and back to Bruce. "How long have you been here?"
"All day" Bruce made a face "Why?"
"No reason" You smirked softly and made your way out of the med bay, unable to keep your smile from growing into a huge grin as you headed down the hall. 
You took a moment to school your features before stepping back into your room. 
"Good news, I ran into Bruce so I can get you out of here and to the Med Bay so he can check you over." You tried to sound disinterested but you couldn't help the smirk that crept onto your face as you spoke. 
Natasha nodded and started to sit up, only to nearly yell in pain and lower herself back to your bed. You watched her trying to get up again as her eyes lost focus, an indication that moving was proving to hurt a bit too much for the Assassin now that the adrenaline had worn off. 
"Would you like some help?" You chuckled softly and the redhead could've nearly killed you with the glare she sent your way. You raised your hands in surrender. "Just offering."
Natasha hesitated a moment before letting out a long, drawn-out sigh and nodding curtly. You giggled and made your way to her, opening the numbing cream you'd taken from the med bay.
"I'm gonna apply some of this and give it a minute to take effect. That should help enough for you to move. I don't suggest trying to walk however, so once you're numb enough for it to not be totally excruciating, I'm going to carry you to Bruce okay?" Your voice held a gentle tone in it that you'd usually reserved for Wanda and children. You'd never deemed anyone else worthy of seeing the softer side of your usual self.  But you figured Natasha needed a little more comfort than she was letting on, and your constant cocky, sarcastic tone of voice wasn't going to be much help. 
Natasha nodded and you sat next to her again, gently applying the numbing cream around her wound. Natasha let out a soft sigh as you rubbed her stomach with light pressure, relieving the tension she didn't even know she'd had in her abdomen. As you rubbed over her stomach muscles you noticed a puckered pink scar above her left hip. You ran your fingers over it gently and looked up at her in question. 
"I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran, somebody shot at my tires near Odessa. We lost control, went straight over a cliff, I pulled us out, but the Winter Soldier - Bucky - was there. I was covering my asset, so he shot him. Straight through me." She explained with a far off look in her eyes and you nodded slowly, grazing your fingers over the scar again. 
Natasha took a shaky breath and you realized just how intimate your actions were. Withdrawing your hands you smiled softly at the redhead and she seemed to hold your gaze as if she were silently asking you something. You weren't sure what. 
"How does it feel?" You asked gently and Natasha's face contorted in an - admittedly adorable expression of confusion. 
"What?" She sounded so lost you could melt, you gestured to her stomach and watched realization dawn on her features. "Oh. Better I guess"
You walked back into your closet and grabbed a soft loose T-shirt before walking out and helping Natasha get into it. You weren't sure how tired she really was, but she must have been exhausted if she was letting you dress her without a problem-she didn't even fight you on the idea of wearing your shirt.
"Ready to go to the Med Bay?" You smirked and Natasha couldn't help but match your expression.
"I doubt Bruce'll be half as gentle with me" Natasha rolled her eyes dramatically and you chuckled.
"I'm sure you'll be fine" You gently gathered the redhead in your arms, lifting her up as she wrapped her arms around your neck. "Let's go princess"
Natasha grumbled slightly at the pet name and tucked her head against your shoulder, hiding her face in your neck. 
You both tried desperately to ignore your intrusive thoughts at the other's proximity as you made your way down the hall. You tensed slightly as you saw Tony heading your direction with a knowing smirk. 
"Look at you two acting like you don't totally hate each other" He chuckled and you felt your face heating up as you felt Natasha huff against your neck, her breath fanning across your skin.
"Shut the fuck up Stark" Natasha snapped, her lips brushing against your collarbone. "I'm injured and y/n was my only available option"
You smirked, knowing her comment was totally bullshit.
"I don't have to act like I don't hate Nat, Tony." You rolled your eyes "She's not as terrible as she pretends to be"
Tony looked at you in surprise as Natasha pulled away enough to stare at you in pure shock. You studied both their reactions before shrugging and continuing to walk down the hall.
You made it to the med bay and smiled at Bruce as you gently set Natasha on the small bed by the wall. 
"I come bearing a patient." You giggled and Bruce raised his eyebrows ``I already stitched her up, she just needs to be screened for other injuries. Annnnddd she probably needs pain relievers- let me know when you're done and i'll take her back to her room.``
Forty-five minutes later and you were once again carrying the redheaded assassin through the halls. Her face tucked against your neck again- which you were alarmingly comfortable with.
"You know" You paused as Natasha pulled away enough to look at you. "This is probably the most we've never gotten along."
"Probably?" Nat grinned "This is definitely the most we've ever gotten along."
You got to her room and stepped inside, your face contorting in confusion and disapproval.
"What the fuck is this?" You deadpanned and Natasha snorted.
The room was full of training equipment and weapons just sitting around. There wasn't really a bed -just a mattress on the ground.
"This is my room" Natasha said as if you were an idiot, and you felt like one as you started carrying her away from her own room and down the hall. 
"Absolutely not- not while you're injured. Nope." You walked back into your room, much to the confusion of Natasha. 
"What are you-?" Natasha started as you walked in and set her gently in a chair before stripping the bloodied sheets from your bed, tossing them in your laundry basket and grabbing another set from your closet. 
"You're staying here until you've healed more-there's no way you're staying in that room while injured." You huffed as you pulled the fitted sheet around your bed and quickly made it up. 
"Y/n i can't possibly-" Natasha started to get up and winced with a small groan, you sighed and lifted her up, moving her to the bed as gently as possible. 
"That's another reason for you to stay here." You smirked "Your dumb stubborn ass keeps trying to get up."
Natasha just glared at you from her place.
"I hate you" She grumbled and your smile faltered.
"Sometimes I really do believe that '' You paused before heading to the door, not giving Natasha time to respond. "I'm gonna go get you some water so you can take those painkillers."
The moment you got out the door you closed your eyes and sighed, trying to ground yourself. 
"Are you okay?" An accented voice startled you from your thoughts and you jumped, opening your eyes. "Sorry"
"Yeah- I'm fine. It's just..." You trailed off, unsure of how to explain your predicament.
"Natasha?" Wanda asked and you raised an eyebrow in question. "You guys have really loud, loud thoughts when you're around each other"
"Yeah.." You mumbled "The little shit's confusing"
"Little?" Wanda mused and crossed her arms "She's a grown woman"
"She's like- 5'2, I said what i said" You ran a hand through your hair and sighed as Wanda gave you a stern, knowing look. "I like her i do- I just- everytime I start making progress she goes cold or we end up fighting and then it's all back to square one"
"She has feelings for you too, but you know Natasha." Wanda shrugged "She's pretty much terrified of the idea of loving someone. She's afraid of her feelings and she's definitely not going to admit to having them unless you make her."
"Loving?" You choked on the air you were previously trying to breathe. "Why are we talking about love?"
Wanda raised an eyebrow at you and scoffed.
"The tension between you two is more than just lust, or a silly crush. There's potential there."
"What do you mean?" Your voice squeaked slightly and Wanda laughed, tapping her temple with a knowing smile.
"Loud. Loud thoughts"
"I don't know what to do anymore" You groaned and the Sokovian gave you a sympathetic pat on the back.
"Well she can't exactly run away at the moment so- I suggest you try talking to her" Wanda smiled and you pulled her into a tight hug.
"Thank you"
"Anytime" She laughed as she pulled away "Now, Go get that water and then go get your girl"
"How did you-"
"Thoughts y/n" Wanda grinned and disappeared into her room.
You chuckled, shaking your head before heading to the kitchen.
You got the water and rushed back to your room, slowing down just outside the door and taking a breath before quietly entering and carefully pulling the door closed as you entered your room.
"That took you a suspiciously long time" Natasha glared at you and you smirked.
"Miss me that much?" You teased setting a glass of cold water on the nightstand by the bed. "I ran into Wanda"
You didn't miss the way Natasha tensed at the mention of the witch but you kept all jokes about her jealousy to yourself. You would be jealous too if the roles were reversed and she'd been with Steve or something.
Despite knowing the two were strictly friends.
"You lied to me" You sat by Natasha as she raised an eyebrow at you in near confusion. "Bruce has been here alllllll day"
You dragged your words out in a sing-song manner and Natasha huffed.
"So why'd you come to me?" You already knew the answer now, but you wanted to see how far Natasha would go to avoid admitting that she liked you as much as you liked her.
"I couldn't find him" Natasha shrugged and you chuckled softly.
"That's not true, you would've found him if you actually looked"
Natasha fixed you with a glare that would rival the world's strongest laser.
"What are you getting at y/l/n?"
"I think you really do like me" You chuckled and a look of panic flashed behind the assassin's eyes. "I'm gonna change your bandages- it's been an hour and we need to keep them clean. I don't want you getting infected"
You moved on so casually Natasha almost forgot that you'd called her out. Almost. However, she was happy to not address it for fear of outing her true feelings for you and you- obviously not feeling the same.
You smirked as you approached the bed, a new idea forming on how to make the redhead suffer a little more before you put an end to her misery. 
You completely ignored the chair by the bed, opting to get on the bed and straddle Natasha's thigh, earning a surprised grunt from the Assassin as she stared up at you in confusion. 
"Better angle" You explained innocently, starting to pull off Nat's (Your) shirt and removing the bandages that covered her wound. 
Natasha studied your features as you concentrated on putting ointment on her stomach before bandaging her back up. Noticing the way you furrowed your brows slightly and bit your lip as you stayed diligently focused.
She had to admit you looked heavenly, hovering above her.
Her mind had wandered to other things when she let out an involuntary gasp as she felt your fingers brush the skin above the waistband of her pants. She looked up at you with wide eyes but you didn't seem to react at all, a neutral expression resting on your face and your focus still on her bandages.
Maybe she'd imagined it?
You glanced up at the assassin as you finished applying the gauze to her wound.
"You alright there?" You raised an eyebrow and Natasha nodded, hiding a blush. "You sure?"
"Yeah I just-" Natasha was cut off when you brushed your fingertips up the side of her ribs, a small smirk ever-present on your lips.
There was no way she imagined that, was there? 
It easily could have been due to you changing her bandages, but a part of Natasha wanted to believe your tender touches against her skin were purposefully wandering. 
"You seem a little out of it Nat" You cocked your head to the side, keeping a neutral tone despite the urge to grin. Natasha didn't answer, she was too busy overthinking the wishful thoughts invading her head. "Nat?"
You waved your hand in front of her face causing her eyes to snap to yours. Confusion and something unreadable was written all over behind her stoic facade.
"Do I need to be worried?" You furrowed your brows in concern. "You seem really distracted"
Natasha swallowed harshly, shaking her head, closing her eyes. 
"I-" Natasha was cut off again, this time by a sharp intake of breath as you traced your hands down her sides, settling them on her hips. 
She definitely hadn't imagined that.
"You what?" You tilted your head to the side with small, kind smile as Natasha's eyes fluttered open to reveal how her gaze had glazed over in confusion.
She couldn't read you as well as she wanted to at that moment. Her head was clouded over with want, but her mind still swarmed with questions as she tried to figure you out. 
"What's wrong Nat?" You leaned over the redhead and she closed her eyes again, subconsciously tilting her head as you gently pressed a soft kiss to her jaw line.
You grinned at the way Natasha shuddered when your lips pressed to her skin, nibbling gently before pulling away. 
Natasha's eyes opened again, her pupils blown and her gaze visibly full of want, but also perplexity. Her body language still tense. 
The smirk you held, transitioned to a gentle smile as you cupped her cheek, remembering what Wanda said about her feelings. Your thumb softly traced along her cheekbone to her lips. You dragged your thumb along her bottom lip, pulling it down slightly, causing Natasha to take a deep breath. 
Her eyes fluttered shut a third time and she leaned into your touch. A small, still guarded smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. 
This moment was probably the softest thing to ever happen between the two of you. In fact, Natasha thought it might be the most gentle thing she'd ever experienced.
"What are you doing?" Natasha sighed, but her eyes stayed closed, afraid that if she opened them you would disappear. She was afraid she was dreaming, and if this was indeed a dream. Natasha Romanoff never wanted to wake up. 
"I don't want to hate each other" You admitted quietly to the assassin, who hummed in response. 
"Me either" Natasha mumbled, her accent slipping out as she let her guard down. Her walls crumbled then and there as her entire body relaxed under your touch. "I don't think I ever hated you" 
Her quiet words made you melt as she turned her face to kiss the palm of your hand before leaning back against it. The warmth of her cheek against your hand sent waves of a comfort you never knew through the both of you. 
"I don't think i ever hated you either" You chuckled at the way her eyes suddenly opened, her eyebrow raised as if to say 'oh really?'. 
You shook your head gently with a fond smile. 
"It's true, i don't hate you" You grazed your thumb along the redhead's jaw. "I don't think i even know how to"
The tenderness in the assassin's gaze was foreign to both of you, along with the unspoken emotions floating lightly in the air around you. 
"Kiss me" Natasha's hushed whisper held a tone akin to pleading. Normally you would take this opportunity to tease the assassin further but the look in her eyes told you she needed this just as much as you did, and you didn't want to ruin the moment for the sake of a joke. 
You slowly leaned in toward the redhead until you were barely an inch away from her lips before hesitating, looking between her eyes for any signs of regret, and finding nothing but serenity in a sea of deep green. 
"Are you sure?" You asked stupidly, anxious that the other woman would change her mind. 
A sigh left parted lips before Natasha nodded, barely moving her head. She wet her lips before finally speaking in a breathy whisper, her eyes burning with the intensity of her desires. 
Her hands moved to your waist, balling fistfuls of your shirt, tugging you down gently against her and you maneuvered yourself to avoid putting pressure on her wound. 
After a moment of silence, you finally connected your lips to hers. 
Electricity buzzed around you as you both sighed contently into the kiss. Natasha filled your senses, her gentle hum of pleasure was music to your ears, her skin was soft and warm to the touch, she tasted like Cinnamon and she smelled like pine trees.
You found yourself getting lost in the kiss, and with a light bite to her bottom lip, you drew a soft gasp from Natasha. In that moment you deepened the kiss, experimentally slipping your tongue between her lips and letting it dance with hers. 
When air became a problem, you moved your lips along her jaw and down her neck, finding her collarbone and placing gentle kisses along her skin as you listened to her attempts to catch her breath. 
When Natasha began pushing you further down her body you reluctantly withdrew your lips from her soft skin. You moved up to face her and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. 
A small grin formed on your face as Natasha let out a soft whine, pulling at your shirt. 
"Nat" you murmured, tracing her jawline with your fingertips as a pout formed on the assassin's lips. "We can't" 
"Why not?" Natasha kept her tone hushed as she pressed her palms to your shoulders. 
"Because, Tasha, there's no way going any further can be good for you right now." You traced your fingertips along her arms in an attempt comfort the assassin. "You were injured and bleeding out literally a few hours ago, you need to rest and let yourself heal a bit." 
"No," Natasha shook her head and huffed quietly, holding your gaze. "I need you, please." 
You stared into her eyes as Natasha tried not to squirm beneath you. She looked so vulnerable and open, a needy frown pulling on the corners of her lips as she gripped the fabric of your shirt in her fists. 
It took you a few moments before you uttered a quiet "okay" and pressed your lips once again to hers. 
Natasha sighed softly as you made your way down her chest, tracing your fingertips over her ribs. You moved slowly, making sure to pay attention to every little moment, being wary of her wound.
Once her bra was removed you paid special attention to her breasts, massaging one with one hand while your lips wrapped around her other nipple, causing Natasha to arch her back, pushing her chest further toward your mouth. 
She groaned softly at the movement and you moved a hand flat against the side of her ribs, gently holding her in place as you swirled your tongue around the hardened peak of her breast before moving your attention to the other. 
Natasha's breathing hitched as you grazed your teeth along one bud while your thumb pressed into the other, she sighed quietly and tangled one hand in the sheets as her other hand found its way to your hair, tugging softly at the roots, earning a low groan from you.
You moved your focus once again to leaving a path of gentle open mouthed kisses and love bites across Natasha's skin, trailing your way down her sternum and to her toned stomach. 
Her hand stayed in your hair, tugging as her ab muscles contracted and pulsed under your lips. You chuckled, finding the button to her jeans and undoing it while laving kisses around her belly. You tugged them off her hips, slowly pulling them down her legs as you watched her face. 
She held your gaze with half lidded eyes, her lips slighty parted and only a little kiss swollen. Her arms had at somepoint made their way above her head, crossed at the wrists as she dug her fingers into the pillows. 
You finished removing the jeans, tossing them to the ground, leaving Natasha in nothing but her navy blue panties.
You admired the view of the wet spot visible on the dark fabric before leaning down to press a kiss to her left knee, smiling as Natasha whined at your teasing. 
You trailed your lips up her thigh reveling in the soft sighs and whimpers you coaxed from the redhead. 
You made your way up to her hip again, this time, placing a deliberate kiss to the rough pink skin of her scar. You glanced up at her in time to see a grin blooming on her lips at the action you felt your chest warm at the sight of her smiling with her teeth, her head tilted to the side and her eyes closed.
You pressed kisses down to her pubic bone and Natasha gasped a quiet involuntary moan as you dragged the tip of your tongue over her covered core, humming at the faint taste of her. 
You hooked your fingers through the waistband of her panties and made quick work of removing them as fast as possible. Not wanting to keep her waiting any longer.
Anchoring your arms around her thighs you held Natasha open as you drove your tongue through her folds moaning softly as you lapped at her juices. Natasha writhed beneath you, soft sighs of pleas and low, breathy moans falling from her lips like your new favorite song. 
You hummed along with her, wrapping your lips around her clit as you slid two fingers easily into her core, exploring her intimacy at a steady pace as her quiet sighs of pleasure evolved into a symphony of sweet impassioned moans. 
One shaky hand found it's way back to your hair, tugging hard and earning a groan from you, sending vibrations straight through her center. The other hand found yours resting on her hip and intertwined your fingers as she cried out in pleasure. 
Her hips rocked in time with your movements as you swirled yout tongue around her clit causing Natasha to choke on a moan. She whined helplessly as you pulled your mouth away from her only to surge forward and connect your lips to hers. 
The kiss was messy and earnest as you let Natasha taste herself on your tongue. You moved your kisses down her jaw before pulling away just enough to watch her face as you curled your fingers just right and swiped your thumb over her clit. 
Her brows drew together as her eyes clamped tighter shut, her grip on your hand and in your hair grew tighter as her walls fluttered around your fingers. 
A chorus of your name and "gonna cum" flowed choppily from her lips as she tucked her face in your neck, moaning huskily against your skin. 
You sped up your movements rubbing tight circles around her clit with your thumb and mumbling a soft "Cum dekta" in her ear. 
Natasha wrapped her hand that wasn't holding yours around the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer to her as her body began to spasm and chants of your name spilled from her as her cum coated your hand. You helped her ride out her orgasm until she began to whine, releasing your hand to push at the one between her legs, murmuring a soft "No more."
You pulled away, sitting back to hold her eyes as you licked your hand, and sucked your fingers clean of her juices. 
"Fuck" she groaned and pulled you down for a slow contented kiss, humming as she tasted herself on your lips. 
You fell next to Natasha, turning on your side and tracing her collarbone with your fingertips. The assassin scooted closer to you with a frown and tugged at your shirt.
"Off" She whined, grunting as she tried to pull your shirt up without moving too much. 
You laughed, placating her with a kiss before sitting up and pleeling the shirt off your body. You tossed your shirt on the ground and quickly removed all remaining clothing before settling in next to Natasha again with a soft sigh. 
Natasha turned on her side to pull you closer, groaning as she shifted with a quiet "Ow."
You immediately sat up again looking her over. 
"Shit. Baby, I gotta make sure you didn't pop a stitch." You mumbled, pulling at Natasha's bandages. 
"I'm fine, it can wait." Was all she said as she stilled your hands with her own and you huffed quietly. 
"At least let me clean you up a little, you're all sweaty and the bandages are loose anyway." 
Natasha grumbled and nodded subtly and you rewrapped her injury as quickly as you could after checking that none of the stitching had come undone.
You slid back into bed and let Natasha get comfortable before you laid halfway on top of her, pressing your head to her chest as both of her hands weaved into your hair, stroking through it soothingly. 
You hummed contently and pressed a kiss to her collarbone, making a mental note to thank Wanda the next time you saw her as you slowly drifted off to sleep to the sound of Natasha humming a lullaby as she carded her fingers through your hair.
Tagging: @yourtaletotell @chelleztjs18
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pairings: natasha romanoff x reader
warnings: flufffff!!
summary: the team decides to play a prank, not knowing a key detail
a/n: this is my first time writing for nat, so please be nice!
Everyone knew about the crush you harboured for the red-headed assassin - except her. And everyone knew of the crush that specific red-headed assassin had on you - except you. And quite frankly, the team were tired of watching the two of you pine for each other, the little, ‘accidental’ touches and sweet nicknames leaving the two of you smiling wistfully, Natasha’s cheeks turning pink when you couldn’t see.
The encounters would end with a team member giggling or ‘aww’-ing, resulting in Natasha sending them a death stare, which usually shuts them up quite quickly. And when jokes where made of how ‘perfect the two of you would be together’ you would just laugh it off.
So they made a plan.
Said plan cam into action in the early days of December. Sam had caught you staring watching Nat train. Of course, he immediately told the rest of the team. And that was how Tony came up with the idea.
Every day, until the two of you confessed, they would place a mistletoe in places the two of you would normally meet.
And, of course, they had to make a bet.
Tony smugly placed a bet that the two of you would confess within a week, while Clint and Sam went for two. Steve stayed out of it, a smirk on his face as he watched the others debate. He caught Bucky’s eye and winked, the former assassin placing a discreet finger on his lips in a shushing motion. Wanda also stayed out of it, laughing at the other three’s childish antics.
And so it started.
The first day caught you completely by surprise. You were walking down the hallway with a box of decorations for the tree, your phone in your other hand. Each team member had their own section on the large tree Tony bought and today was your day to decorate your part. You were scrolling through ideas on your phone so you hadn’t looked where you were going.
Just as you were getting into the common room, you bumped into someone. Natasha. Of course. Everything in your hands fell as you stumbled backwards, but before you were able to hit the ground, an arm reached out and pulled you forwards. You found your footing and you started apologising profusely as you bent down to pick up the box and the decorations that had rolled out.
“Y/N. Y/N! You’re fine дорогой (dorogoy). It’s all good,” Natasha soothed as you gave her a meek smile, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the petname.
“Where’re you off to?”
“To decorate the tree,” you smiled excitedly, “You’re more than welcome to join,” you offered.
Natasha smiled softly, before going to follow you, but before she could take a step, a voice shouted out.
Both you and Natasha froze as Tony came out from behind the corner.
“Look up,” he smiled.
You craned your neck to have a look, a small mistletoe hanging from the ceiling catching your eyes.
You met Nat’s eyes as you felt the heat rise up into your cheeks. You watched as Nat leaned forward, no hesitation in her actions. You held your breath as a small kiss was placed on your cheek, the smell of her perfume clouding your brain.
Nat slipped her arm around your waist and led you to the tree, leaving Tony with his jaw open yet smug that his plan was working.
When you knew it was just the two of you left in the common room, you spoke out.
“So, when’re we gonna tell them?” you giggled.
“Soon. But a little birdie told me they’re making bets on us.”
It had to be either him or Bucky. You had a feeling Wanda probably knew, too. You and Nat told Steve early on in your relationship, knowing he was someone you could trust with your lives. Of course, you could trust the others, but it felt right telling Steve first. He obviously told Bucky, and he told you so. He may be a world known hero who could cover up and lie with ease, but his boyfriend knew all his tells, so it was harder to hide. Nevertheless, they were both happy and supportive and you knew you had made the right decision.
“Yep. So we’ll do it after. There’s no way we’re making those assholes any richer.”
You laughed as you leaned into Nat, the red-head giggling along with you. Nat lifted her hand as you looked to see what she was doing. A beautiful white and green mistletoe dangling from her hand.
You looked at her, a small breathy laugh escaping your lips, before you leaned forwards, capturing her lips in a perfect kiss.
дорогой (dorogoy) - darling
Tagging: @wndawtch @chrisevansdaughter​ @pbnjparker​ @chrisdrysdale​ @bubblessunshinehoney​ @hulkstacos​ @cable-knit-sweater​ 
let me know if you want to be tagged or removed! xx
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