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anyaeras · 1 year

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Extra Help || N.Romanoff

Paring || Profesor natasha x reader

Summary || The student and profesor have some unprofessional relationships. They both tend to enjoy the company of each other

Warnings || smut ,, top!Natasha ,, bottom!reader ,, AFAB!Reader ,, They/Them pronouns ,, Legal age gap ,, mention!wandnat ,, semi!public!sex ,, cunnalingus ,, strap!on ,, pet!names ,, praising ,, hair pulling if you squint.

A/N || I used a lot of Russian in this, I am a Russian speaker so work with me please.

Master list discord

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Up and at it, it's 11:30am which you would think would be a nice time to get up at, but not for the college student who just so happened to not get home till around 4am the "night" prior, y/n wasn't a party person, but they were a let's hang out with friends and forget about all the problems in the world kind of person which just leads them into parties.

Now very hungover, a little hungry and in a rush y/n was throwing on a quick fit, that was comfortable yet still appropriate for a college lecture, cleaning themself up, brushing through their hair, and throwing on a little bit of make up before grabbing there bag being out the dorm door by 11:50 to make it to their 12 o'clock Russian lecture.

Stumbling into the classroom a moment before the lecture would begin making direct eye contact with the Russian redhead who ran the class, now this wasn't the first time, Miss Romanoff and you had a special bond you could say, she was definitely a mentor...well and more.

Sitting in the same spot you have the whole semester. It was on the right side of the classroom nearing the front row relatively close to Romanoffs desk, you made quick eye contact, but the blaring migraine wasn't helping y/n learn anything they got to the point where they prompted to just put their head down and listen, they were pretty sure this wouldn't go over well with the older Russian, yet y/n got away with it for a hot second before feeling a tap on the shoulder, pulling them back to reality, causing them to look up seeing a taller women looking down at them with sharp green eyes, and the look alone was enough for y/n to sit up correctly in the seat.

«Stay after class милый» (sweetie) Natasha bent down to say that to you softly, already having given out the assignment, the class was distracted by the devices going through the digital worksheets, quickly picking up on this you nodded to what Natasha had said but quickly got it work so you didn't look out of place.

The lecture went on about verb conjugations for another hour, the Russian lecture would only meet two times a week, yet you seemed to be meeting with Natasha Romanoff, to which the class called миссис Романов (miss Romanov) to keep It more professional, yet the Russian professor had explained multiple times, she didn't enjoy being called miss as it was seen as calling her old in Russia, but it was hard to break the American school system habits these young adults had formed over many years of schooling.

The class went on, yet y/n was far distracted, more worried about being asked to stay after class rather then learning more Russian, she was sure Natasha maybe even her wife would be willing to tutor the younger learner.

Slowly students begin packing up their electronics and putting their notes back into their bags before heading out, yet y/n didn't move for at least 2 minutes, then even slower they managed to pack up their items into their bag, they aren't scared of Natasha they just enjoy playing games, if you know what I mean? Finally sitting up and making their way towards the front of the room where Natasha stood waiting, yet they didn't stay there long.

"I have some work to get done, I'd like to move to my office" the Russian stated before leading the younger one to her office, which was only a few doors away from the lecture hall, yet every step the professors heels clicked on the floor echoing through the clean university hallways.

Unlocking the door with the keycard which is usually sat around the Russians neck digitally unlocking the door before shutting the door behind the two of them and locking it with a click.

«Late night детка?» Natasha asked softly yet with strong demands behind her voice pressing for an answer.

"I just went out nothing much" y/n responded nonchalantly to the older women, knowing damn well you were getting over a hangover still, and really weren't feeling one of the lectures coming your way, knowing it would get back to Wanda making you have two upset hot women on your plate.

"Y/n I'm sure you didn't let anyone touch what's ours" Natasha asked, she trusted you, so did her wife, yet y/n is a college kid so it's always imported to check.

"Of course not! I would never disrespect you guys like that!" Y/n snapped back being shut off with a kiss from Natasha.

«so good for us Моя дорогой » (my dear) Natasha praised continuing to kiss the younger ones lips before moving down to their semi-exposed chest and neck leaving small love bites along the way.

"Now I need to get some work done, while I do that do you think you could be good for me милый?" It was more of an order as it came from the red heads mouth, soft yet stern, she reached for your wrist guiding you to her desk before pushing you under it, there was plenty of room for you, plus you were hidden, as the older professor sat down in her chair, moving closer you could now see directly up her skirt, where she had no panties, giving you easy access to her core.

Y/n knew what she wanted from them without the Russian even needing to be explicated about it, as the red head started to grade papers it was almost to much as she felt y/n's mouth get to work, eating her out with skill, and what can the older women say, she's who taught y/n how so she was aware of how well y/n was with their mouth.

Muffled moans came from Natasha who was trying to not be to loud, as the sounds of sex filled the room.

«Just like that детка» Natasha prompted as she wrapped her fingers into the younger ones hair, pulling y/n into her closer then they thought was even possible, as she reached her climax practically grinding on y/n's face, Natasha raised her hand to her mouth to muffle her scream as she finally let go onto y/n

Natasha moved back from her seat at her desk after a moment, pulling herself together, before helping y/n off their knees, and into her lap, quickly pulling y/n in for a deep kiss, which didn't brake until they both were desperate for air.

"So good for me I think you deserve a reward hmm?" Natasha stated with her smirk plastered on her face

The Russian stood up picking up y/n along the way moving them onto the desk they clean off prior, setting y/n down leaving them with a sloppy kiss before parting ways. Without a word Natasha stepped back walking over towards a file cabinet, which held more then files that was for sure, pulling on a specific handle, a box, which looked nothing out of the ordinary sat inside the cabinet. Both people in the room knew the truth about that box, as Natasha reached inside pulling out a faux cock and a harness, sliding it up getting the harness situated onto her hips.

The older women made her way back to the college kid sitting on her desk, swaying her hips along the way, eventually stopping between y/n's legs. Natasha tapped on y/n's pants as a way of asking for consent to remove their clothing getting eager nods from y/n, as they even helped Natasha strip them of their clothes before sitting back on top of her russian teachers desk.

«Hmm let's see, maybe you learned something in my class, tell my what you want На русском?» (In Russian) Natasha was playing with fire, now messing with y/n, she knew y/n tried in her class, she's known that ever since y/n started coming to Her wife, and herself for extra Russian help, which may have lead to more than 'russian help' yet, you could say their doing just fine in the class. Y/n had to think about it for a moment, their Russian wasn't fluent at all, so they knew this would be a struggle by they did know how to curse and how to say ''me'

«Черт возьми меня» (fuck me) slipped past y/n's lips as they hoped that would be enough to get Natasha just to fucking ruin her.

"Ahh so good for me, it seems you picked up some words I haven't gone over yet" the professor joked before lining up, she slipped the faux dick threw y/n's folds getting it slick before lining up, slowly sliding in, whispering sweet nothing while doing so, allowing y/n a moment to adjust to the size.

"Y-you can move" y/n managed to stutter out, it's not like y/n was a virgin it's just Natasha was rather large.

With y/n's okay, Natasha started to pull out before trusting back in, she moved slowly yet trusted back in hard causing y/n to Yelp with the first trust, a low groan came from y/n's mouth. Natasha started to pick up speed, groaning as she listened to y/n's moans fill her ears, she eventually started to rut into y/n's forcing y/n to use Natasha to stabilize themself enough while balancing on the office desk.

"Fuck nat!" Y/n yelled out as Natasha was quick to move one of her hands to cover y/n's mouth, in hopes to muffle the yell as they were both still in a place of profession. Natasha was well aware y/n was coming close to her climax, to which the Russian started to use her hand which you removed from y/n's mouth to stimulate their clit, which was enough to push y/n over the edge causing them to let out loud moan holding onto Natasha tightly as they let go, evidently collapsing on top of their professor after.

Natasha held y/n close for a moment helping her come down from her high, helping the younger one relax before pulling out and starting to clean up.

After Natasha had cleaned up her office, she went back to y/n giving them a soft kiss on their lips before helping them get re-dressed after she dressed herself of course.

Looking over at her phone Natasha saw a missed text from her wife, which read.

«Bring them home for dinner, you can share Моя любовь»

The message brought a smirk to Natasha's face, packing up her items before turning to y/n.

"Come on sweetie, the misses is waiting" was all Natasha said, and that was enough for y/n to gain her composure and follow behind the red head right out the door.

#lgbtqia #marvel #marvel mcu #writing #fanfic #marvel edits #marvel fic #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #mommy natasha #black widow #wlw smut #marvel black widow #scarlett x reader #scarlett johansson #scarjo #anyaeras

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farity · 9 months

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In the Red of Night, part 4

You saw a blur, heard a choked off sound. And then Aemond had his hand wrapped around the man’s throat and was lifting him off the chair. Your favorite reading chair. That you would have to burn in the near future.

“Aemond,” you managed, your voice smaller than usual, and he turned.

His eyes. They had gone even darker than before it that was possible, and his cheekbones, they looked like the skin had stretched sharply across them, red slashes across the pale skin.

The man made a sound and Aemond dropped him back onto the chair. “You will never go near her again.”

His voice, usually soft, had a rasp to it that made you think of violence.

And sex.

You shook your head, disgusted with yourself. “How the hell are you here?”

The man, despite the circumstances, smiled at you. “My dad bailed me out. So I could see you. I was,” he stopped, looked down at his limp cock, “I was getting ready for you.”

“Does your building have a way out the back?” Aemond asked.

You nodded. “Stairs across from the lift.”

Without another word, Aemond lifted the man by the throat, and this time walked out your door. He didn’t seem to be struggling as he carried a full grown man and you didn’t think, you just went after him.

“Stay home,” he said, and when you kept walking, he shook his head and cursed.

You followed as he walked down, the man’s feet hitting every step as he clawed at Aemond’s hand, trying to free himself. When you reached the back exit of the building, you watched as Aemond let the man fall to the ground.

“But I love you,” he rasped out, breathing heavily as he tried to reach for you. “why can’t you see that?”

Aemond closed his eyes and you could see his fists at his sides, tightly closed in an attempt to calm himself down.

“I don’t care if you’ve been fucking this guy,” the man continued, “once you’re mine there will be no one else-”

You heard an animal growl and then, everything happened at once. You’d never believed people when they said everything was like in slow motion. Until now.

Aemond turned, and then he and the man were standing against the wall. It looked for a few seconds like Aemond was talking in the man’s ear, but then-

Oh.

The man went limp and slid ever so slowly down the wall, and Aemond stayed with his back to you, his tall, lean form as still as the man was on the ground.

“Aemond.”

“I would tell you to stay back, but I already know you don’t fucking listen.”

The fear, the shock, the rush of being near Aemond, it all became too much and you burst out laughing.

And then Aemond turned around.

He ran a hand across his mouth but he didn’t wipe away all of it.

There was blood on his face, across his jaw, on the back of his hand. And when you looked down, there was so much of it on the man’s throat.

You pressed a hand to your mouth, both to try and stop your laughter and in horror at the scene before you, and you felt like you were moving through water. You looked back at Aemond, who took a step toward you.

“I do not mean you any harm.”

You shook your head, unable to form any words. There was one in your head. The only one that could possibly describe him, and yet you could not make it make sense.

You’d seen the name on his credit card, of course, but the myths said his family was intertwined with dragons, not- not this. And it was all bullshit, wasn’t it? Bullshit the family had always encouraged because it served them. Until it didn’t and now no one knew how many real Targaryens were left out there. Some people even changed their last names and dyed their hair to pretend to be some distant relative. Between the Targaryens and the Romanovs, there were always people wanting to be something they weren’t.

You’d never asked Aemond about it, because a) he was quiet and kept to himself, and b) it was none of your fucking business if he was or wasn’t some long lost Targaryen.

“Are you going to say something?”

Aemond’s voice, the voice you knew from your conversations at your shop, snapped you out of your reverie.

You raised your hand and pointed to your jaw. “You have some, uh, stuff, on your face.”

He nodded slowly. “I will be back shortly. Go back upstairs.”

He disappeared with the man and you did the only thing you could do, because he was already gone.

You went back upstairs.

* * * * *

When Aemond knocked on her door, he wasn’t quite sure what to expect. She had seemed to still be in shock and he sighed, cursing himself for adding to the horrible day she had already endured.

She opened the door and stepped back to let him in. "Do you even need an invitation?”

He shook his head.

She closed the door behind him and locked it and he felt an absurd amount of relief. “I want to know everything,” she said, and sat on her sofa, her hands folded primly on her lap.

He took the chair across from her. “How much do you know about the Targaryens?”

She reached out to grab her water bottle and he saw that despite her poised and controlled appearance, her hands were shaking.

“I meant what I said earlier, I mean you no harm.” When her expression didn’t change, he felt a flutter of something. Worry? He wasn’t sure. “I never have.”

She took a sip of water. “I suppose if you did, I wouldn’t be around to tell the tale,” she said evenly. “I know about Aegon the Conqueror and his sister-wives,” she said, raising her eyebrows, then looked at him with wide eyes. “Are you married to your sister?”

Aemond smiled, unable to help himself. “No.”

“Are you named after Aemond the Kinslayer?” she asked next, and his heart sank.

He said nothing, and she continued to look at him, and then smiled in disbelief. “Didn’t he lose an eye or was that someone else?”

“Yes.”

She licked her lips and took a deep breath. “Look, if you’re going to give me one word answers we are going to be here all night and I’ve already had a really shitty day, okay?”

He could see it happening. What did they call it? The five stages of grief or something? She had been in shock, then there would be denial, anger, something else. But she was right, he did owe her more.

“Yes, I did lose an eye when my cousin slashed my face during a fight.”

She said nothing.

“But when a vampire witch decided to turn me, she convinced me by healing my eye first. Or creating a new one, I am not quite sure as all I remember is pain.”

She was so quiet, he feared she would never speak again, and he leaned forward. When she jumped back, he immediately raised his hands.

“Please,” he said. “I will tell you anything you want, but please know you have nothing to fear from me.”

“Are there others like you? Like the vampire witch?”

“Not many, but yes. She calls every once in a while. She’s not happy I won’t go back to her.”

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Why aren’t you with her?”

“Because she is . . . “ he thought about it. “She wants power. She thought she’d use me to get it. Now I think it’s more like, no one leaves her, and I did, so she wants me back. Probably so she can leave me instead. Or kill me.”

She looked down at her hands. “What did you do to that guy?”

Her voice was so quiet he was sure he wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for what he was. “I think you know,” he said.

She stood, suddenly, “I want you to fucking tell me!”

She was glaring at him, her breathing hard, her lips pressed together, and he wanted, he just wanted to wrap himself around her, to hold her, and he knew it was the last thing she would allow right now.

Aemond stayed where he was, but nodded slowly. “I drained him of all his blood, then I disposed of his body where he will never be found. If you will allow me, I will go through your bedroom and remove any evidence, otherwise, I would urge you to do it yourself. We do not know who might know he was on his way here and-”

The water bottle hit him in the chest, splashing his face. He didn’t move, and she grabbed a book and threw that next. There were tears in her eyes and he sat there, watching as she worked herself up. She was going to start screaming and he could not let her do that, so when she opened her mouth, he rushed to her and covered her mouth, holding her back against him.

She screamed against his palm, grabbed at his hand to pull it away and screamed again when it didn’t move an inch.

“I am sorry,” he repeated, holding her so that she wouldn’t hurt herself but she was relentless, kicking back at him and trying to turn in his arms, so he turned her around himself, and before he could stop her, she was pressing her mouth to his.

He grabbed her face to push her away, and instead found himself demanding entrance to her mouth. She opened for him, so willing and warm, and her fingers were grabbing his sweater, pulling him closer. She was mad to be courting disaster like this, but the taste of her was like golden honey on his tongue, coating the metallic remnants of blood.

One moment of sanity made him surface and he pulled away. She looked dazed, her mouth rosy and swollen, her hands still fisted in his clothes. “No,” he breathed out. “You don’t know what you want.”

“I’m not a fucking child,” she snapped and then closed her eyes. “Fine. Get out, then.” she turned and took a step away from him.

Aemond cursed and reached out to grab her and pull her back and when she wrapped her arms around his neck he lifted her up and kissed her, one hand on her ass, the other on the back of her head, and began walking to her bedroom.

He felt her fingers delving into his hair, caressing his face as he continued to kiss her, placing her on her neatly made bed. He managed to pull back, “tell me you want this, I need to hear the words.”

She let her head fall back, moaning in frustration. “Really? I thought I was being pretty obvious,” she panted, but she reached up to brush her fingertips along his jaw. “I want you. I’ve wanted you for a long time.” And then she sat up and pulled off her shirt, looking down at her breasts and her plain black bra. When she looked back up at him, her eyes were wide and he could no longer resist her.

“I want you, too,” he murmured, “I haven’t wanted someone like this in-” he swallowed, and reached for her.

* * * * *

For a moment, you thought he was going to leave, but then you felt him reach behind you, the clasp of your bra releasing and you shivered as he gently pulled the garment off of you. You hadn’t been with anyone in a while, and you wished your bra was prettier, your breasts bigger, but then he was taking one nipple in his mouth and you forgot all about your imagined deficiencies because what he was doing with his lips and tongue was making your head swirl. Again you sank your fingers into his hair, so incredibly soft, his skin so smooth, and arched against him, wanting more.

He let go of your breast and began pulling down your leggings and underwear, and then you were bare before him. Before you could start worrying about some other body image bullshit, he was pulling off his sweater and your mouth went dry at the sight of him.

“It is rude to stare,” he said, and then leaned down to kiss you.

Fine, you thought, if you couldn’t look, then you would touch, and let your hands roam over his shoulders and back, feeling the power in his lean muscles. You had dreamed of this, and feeling his skin against yours was even better than anything your imagination could come up with. When he let his weight rest between your spread thighs, you felt him, hard against your belly, and rolled your hips.

Aemond gasped against your mouth, and you smiled before you reached for the button on his jeans. He let you undo it and then shoved the rest of his clothes off before coming back to you. “I do not get diseases, and I cannot get you pregnant, but I have thought about all the things I want to do to you,” he said, “will you let me?”

You looked up at him, “anything,” you murmured, “everything.”

He raised an eyebrow, “I will remind you of that.” And with that, he slid down and fastened his mouth between your legs. His hands held your thighs open while you grabbed at the bedspread in desperation. His tongue circled relentlessly, driving you higher and higher. It was going to be fast and brutal, and as the lashings of pleasure began tearing through you, you moaned loudly, your legs shaking until you realized he was not stopping, he was not merely working you through your orgasm. He was working you up to the next one.

It was that realization that made you come a second time, and when he pushed two fingers inside you, you reached for his hair, unsure if you wanted to push him away or hold him in place. It was all too much and yet you reached for more, letting Aemond do as he wanted, because whatever it is the he wished to do, you had no plans to stop him.

* * * * *

Eventually he leaves her, trembling and panting on the bed, and he goes to clean up. He doesn’t know her well enough to know what she is okay with, so when he comes back, he takes her in his arms and kisses her, feeling her soft and pliant against him. He wants her so badly, wants to sink into her, and yes, wants to taste her blood as well. Some other time, he tells himself, when she knows what she is agreeing to, when she is sure and not in shock from a vicious day.

He nudges at her entrance and she gasps, but reaches for him, her eyes still half closed. When he begins pushing inside her, he needs a moment because she is so hot and swollen from all the stimulation that he nearly comes when he’s barely an inch inside her.

“Aemond,” she says softly, and he looks down at her, the small smile on her lips, “do you want to drink from me?”

He goes very still. She blinks a couple of times and he shakes his head, and pushes in further, making her gasp.

He decides he will not drink from her now, and kisses her before she can offer again. She feels amazing, and he has to restrain himself from simply burying himself in her in one thrust. He wants to savor her, every little gasp and the way she bites down on her lower lip.

“Please, Aemond,” she says, and he loses his restraint, snapping his hips. She sinks her nails into his back and moves her legs up to wrap around his waist, pulling him in even deeper. “God, yes,” she whispers, and he wants to tell her there are no gods, there never were, and he pulls back instead, almost until he is completely out of her, before he slams back inside her. She moans, her face flushed, and he starts snapping his hips, watching her every reaction, letting the noises she makes feed the need inside him.

He can tell she is about to come, her unsteady breathing and the way she rocks her hips to meet him tell him she is almost there, so he reaches between them, his thumb finding her, circling on her slick flesh to drive her over the edge. She cries out and he feels her clenching around him, her body arching off the bed, and he wants to feel every contraction, every tremor of her legs. It is a soft graze of her fingers on his hand that undoes him, and he lets himself surrender.

* * * * *

You awoke at your usual 4am, alone in your bed.

There were sounds coming from the living area and you quickly realized it was Aemond, probably on his phone. You smiled. He hadn’t left after all. After you used the bathroom, you grabbed your robe and wrapped it around yourself before walking to the kitchen.

“Hold off for now, otherwise they’ll keep the price high. I’ll talk to you later,” he said when he saw you and after clicking off the call, he smiled and stood in time to open his arms to you. “Good morning.”

“Indeed,” you replied, raising your mouth to his. He kissed you gently, caressing your cheek. “I need to get ready for work,” you said, letting him pull you in.

He held you tightly for a moment, then kissed the top of your head. “I will see you later, then. I have a meeting so I have to run, but I will be in after.”

“Okay,” you replied.

“Will you stay with me tonight? Bring a change of clothes for tomorrow?”

You nodded, smiling, and let him kiss you before he left.

* * * * *

Bailey was working with you this morning, and you went over the scary happenings of the day before. “Okay, you are never closing by yourself again,” he said.

“I don’t think any of us should open or close alone again.”

A woman walked in, looking around with a smile on her face. “This is so charming!” she said, and you couldn’t help but smile back. “I’ll take a coffee, black, to go.”

“Anything to eat? Our morning buns are freshly made,” you said. The bag she carried cost about 10k dollars, you knew.

“Oh no,” she laughed, “I’ve already eaten today.” She reached in and pulled out a credit card, handing it to you.

You rang her up while Bailey handed her the coffee cup. Looking down at the card, you read:

Alys Rivers.

* * * * *

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warwickroyals · 7 months

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Sunderland's Royal Jewel Vault (4/∞) ♛

↬ Georgiyevna Tiara

The Georgiyevna Tiara, also known as Grand Duchess Anastasia's Kokoshnik Tiara, was bought by Queen Matilda Mary in 1922 for the price of $47,807. The tiara was sold to the new queen by Grand Duchess Maria Alexandrovna of Russia, daughter of the tiara's original owner, Grand Duchess Anastasia Georgiyevna. Grand Duchess Anastasia, born Princess Adelaide of Sunderland, was a sister of Matilda Mary's husband, King Nicholas. The grand duchess was a huge admirer of jewellery and her collection became world-renowned for its size and value. Among her collection was a Bolin diamond tiara adorned with 23 cabochon aquamarines. Anya, as the grand duchess was called, received the tiara among several other gifts ahead of her 1894 wedding to Grand Duke Alexander Alexandrovich of Russia, a younger brother of Tsar Nicholas II. Like several of her Romanov relatives, Anya was imprisoned and eventually murdered following the Russian Revolution of 1917. Her jewels remained hidden in Petrograd until they were smuggled out of Russia, along with her surviving daughters, by Sunderlandian operatives. Over the next few years, Anya's daughters sold pieces of their mother's jewelry collection to support their lives in exile, with their aunt Matilda Mary making several large purchases to ensure certain jewels stayed within the family. Anya's ailing mother, Dowager Queen Alexandra, was heartbroken by the fate of her Russian family and forbade any of Anya's jewels to be worn in her presence. Following Alexandra's death in 1926, Matilda Mary began wearing the tiara for formal events and photographs. She had the tiara altered to accommodate drop pearls, which could easily be swapped with the original aquamarines. The tiara was passed down and eventually inherited by Queen Irene following the death of Queen Anne in 1973. Irene has worn the tiara consistently and it is rumoured to be her favourite tiara.

#warwick.extras #warwick.jewels #ts4 #ts4 story #ts4 storytelling #ts4 edit #ts4 royal legacy #ts4 legacy #ts4 royalty #ts4 monarchy #ts4 screenshots #✨

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i-write-sometimes-maybe · 11 months

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Let Me Heal You!- Natasha Romanov XFemReader!

Synopsis: Natasha won’t let you do what you do best, but that’s not a surprise.

Warnings: mentions of wounds and blood, stubborn Natasha, mutant reader, implications of torturous past, slight mind control, fluff at the end ofc.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/n: I think this is totally canon. Let me know if you want to see more Natasha! All likes, comments, and reblogs are welcomed!

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

“Alright, the files have been uploaded. Everyone get back to the quinjet!” Steve went over the comms.

‘Oh thank god.’

You let out a sigh, relief finally started to come back as you finally threw the last few Hydra agents away, the relief gave your powers an extra kick knowing that they could rest soon. You really didn’t care where you sent them, they were just lucky to be alive.

You turned around and began to journey back outside to where the quinjet was parked. As you rounded the corner, you nearly collided with Clint. Instinctively, you threw a punch to protect yourself, and he instantly dodged it.

“Woah there, Y/n. We’re all on the same team now, right?”

You sighed again, “Yeah, we are. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to see you there. I’m on edge and I’d really like to get out of here.”

You didn’t want to be here any longer than necessary. You already knew that this place would mess with your head later and frankly, you were expecting that.

“Alright, no worries, we’re not too far now.”

He took the lead and you followed behind him. He navigated his way around each turn as if he’d been here before, you easily could’ve been the same way if you weren't so distracted during this mission’s briefing earlier in the week.

The pain and exhaustion started as soon as you saw the jet waiting for the both of you. You weren’t too worried about the pain or the cuts, you're an incredibly fast healer thanks to your powers. The only good thing that came from those experiments.

“Let’s go, I’ve got a padded seat calling my name.” Clint said, referring to the hours he had spent on the roof of a neighboring building to keep a look-out.

“I’m going, I’m going. You’re not the only one that wants out of here.” At this point, you were only a few yards from the jet but it still felt so far. “Are you alright? You don’t look too banged up.”

“I’m fine, just a few bruises.” He shrugged and walked up the ramp to the quinjet, instantly slumping into a seat.

You just nodded in acknowledgment, if there wasn’t anything for you to heal then you're good to sit too.

Only a few moments after you sat down, the rest of the team came from their respective areas and found their seats. Tony made his way straight to the front, still suited up.

You were guessing that he’s fine, just a little ticked off and ready to go back to the compound. You did a quick headcount, just to be sure no one is left behind.

“Everyone on and good? Good.” Tony instantly started the jet and initiated takeoff.

“How is everyone? Everyone doing relatively okay?” You asked, scanning over everyone.

Simple nods and a groan or two filled the jet, “No one is missing a limb right? That, I can’t fix.” You felt a little bit better about the situation when you heard a few chuckles.

It wasn’t much but some laughter helps.

You did another scan over everyone, this time you were sure to look extra hard at their injuries. Everyone had superficial cuts that would heal in just a few days and some bruising.

Your eyes landed on Natasha finally, You'd admit that you did look over her harder. It definitely wasn’t because she was your girlfriend and you wanted to tend to her first, not at all. But something was off.

She had her hand over her abdomen and was sitting at a weird angle. Her stoic spy expression was on her face, not a tired expression that she usually has after missions.

To anyone else, this is fine, she is fine. But you're not anyone. She may be a highly trained spy but she couldn’t get past you. You know her better than that.

You walked over to her and sat beside her, she shifted but it wasn’t to be closer to you. She moved to be sitting straighter but her arm didn’t move. Yeah, something wasn’t right.

“You are okay, right?” You asked even though you knew the answer.

“Yup, I’m fine.” That’s a lie. For a spy, you’d think she could lie to you better than that.

“I guess it’s a good thing I’m your girlfriend and it’s hard for you to lie to me. So, I’ll ask again, are you okay?” You were a little more stern this time.

She sighed, “I’m fine really, it’s just a scratch.”

“Uh huh, let me see it.”

“No.”

“Natasha.”

“I’m fine!” She kept trying to insist.

“Are you kidding me?”

She side-glanced at you, “What?”

“Something is wrong and I know it, so, you might as well show me now so I can heal you.”

“Y/n, I’m fine. Really.”

You sat beside her, staring at her face. You would’ve kept eye contact but she was staring ahead at the floor.

The one thing about her, you can’t break her. You know that for a fact, and of course, you know why. Your squinting glare, an attempt at intimidation and persuasion, did absolutely nothing. You weren't surprised though.

Neither of you moved from how you were sitting, and in no time you were all back at the compound.

As soon as you were safely docked, she instantly stood up. You noticed how she tried to hide a wince, and that's when you knew for certain that something was wrong.

Natasha was one of the first people off the quinjet, and if you know Natasha, which you do, you know that she’s going straight to her room to shower.

Well, she was going to try to. You used your powers to make her walk to the Med Bay.

“Really, Y/n? I am completely capable of walking myself.”

You continued to move her forward, “Oh I know, I’m just guiding you where you need to be.”

Natasha groaned the moment she realized where you were leading her. You opened the door and made her sit on an exam bed.

“Sit.” She tried to get up when you released your powers. “Stay.”

She rolled her eyes, “I am not a dog.”

“Good, then maybe you’ll listen better than one.”

Bruce walked in behind you, he had stayed behind so he could have the Med Bay ready for anyone that got injured on the mission.

“Let me see it.”

“Y/n, it’s nothing, it’s just a small scrape.”

You narrowed your eyes, “Then let me see it.” She didn’t move. “Do I have to do it myself?”

She finally gave up, “No.”

She moved her arm. And that's when you saw her suit ripped open and her side was bleeding.

“Nat, that’s not nothing! That’s a bullet scrape!” You moved towards her so you could heal her, but she put her arms up to stop you.

“Let me heal you!” You just wanted her to heal, or to at least stop the bleeding.

“No! I’m fine! Bruce, tell her I’m fine”

It definitely wasn’t the worst injury you’ve seen her come back with, but it wasn’t small either.

He looked around you and saw the wound, “Uh well-“

“Never mind!” She thought Bruce, a trained medical doctor, would side with her.

“Babe, please, just let me heal you.” You tried moving towards her again.

“Oh. I’m sorry, is this OUR wound?? No? Then stay out of it.” Why does she have to be so stubborn?

But you knew something you could say that would change her mind, “If you don’t let me heal you, then you won’t get kisses for a week.”

Her stoic face shifted into one of disbelief and concern, “Hold on now, no need to get carried away-“

“So. Let. Me. Heal. You.”

“Ugh! Fine!”

“Thank god! Now stop moving!”

You finally moved to her side, You looked at her and nodded so she could be prepared. Your healing doesn’t hurt but it’s still something to be prepared for. She nodded back, ready for it.

Nat wasn’t a stranger to your healing, almost every mission she came back from, she needed you to heal something on her.

Even more of a reason why you'd think she'd be more welcoming to your healing, but Nat would always downplay her injuries.

You placed your hand on her side, she winced a little bit when you added pressure.

You closed your eyes when you felt them start to glow, there was something about the glowing that you just never liked. You didn’t understand why that happens when you heal people.

Your hand began glowing against her skin, the tissue now fusing itself back together. You stayed like that for a few moments until you felt your powers calm to a stop.

When you opened your eyes again, you saw Natasha watching you.

You ignored her look as you looked over the once wounded area. Everything was fine and it was almost like she was never hurt to begin with. Though you have magic, it doesn’t prevent scarring. However, it does make it significantly better than it would be if she were to heal and scar on her own.

You backed away and grabbed a cloth, wiping your hands clean from her blood. That is the one thing you’d never get used to. And you never, ever, want to get used to it.

When you turned back to face Nat, she still had the same look on her face.

“You know, I like when your eyes glow when you’re healing.”

“What? Why?” you were so confused, you had never liked it.

She lightly shrugged, “I’m not sure, I think it just makes you that much more beautiful and unique.”

“Okay, I think Banner needs to check you for a concussion.”

“No, I mean it. I really do like it.” She put her hand in yours.

“Really?”

She nodded, “Really.” You smiled at her assurance. “Now I need to shower, care to join me?”

“Is that even a question? Absolutely.”

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @v3nusxsky @just-your-casual-nerd @pebbleswritessometimes @bigolgay @scream-queenlover @darkth1ngs @sgelessoanddoveykissing

#fanfic #oneshot #sapphic #natasha romanoff #natasha x you #natasha x y/n #natasha romonova #light angst #fluff #healing #scarlett johansson

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adini-nikolaevna · 11 months

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“I was photographed as Princess Charlotte because Grandmother thinks I look like her.”

— Princess Victoria of Hesse to her brother, Hereditary Grand Duke Ernst Ludwig, 1882.

#princess victoria of hesse #grand duke ernst ludwig of hesse #princess charlotte augusta of wales #romanov relatives #quotes

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krasivaa · 7 months

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Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna of Russia with her relative King George I of Greece, 27th September, year of 1900.

#romanovs #house of glücksburg #xenia alexandrovna #king george i of greece #royal families together #awww the hug 🥰#vintage photography #old royal photos #1900 #1900s #september 27th #september 27th 1900 #270900 #september #autumn #relatives #royal relatives

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romanovsonelastdance · 26 days

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Romanov relatives: Ernst-Ludwig of Hesse with his sons.

#romanov relatives #ernst ludwig of hesse #georg donatus of hesse #ludwig of hesse #ernest louis of hesse #george donatus of hesse #louis of hesse #hessian grand ducal family #my collection

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graceofromanovs · 8 months

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Emperor Nicholas II of Russia with his daughters, Prince George of Battenberg, and Alice, Princess Andrew of Greece and Denmark (nephew and niece of the Empress), and several ladies-in-waiting. Photographed by Empress Alexandra Feodorovna at Münzenberg Castle, Hesse, Germany in 1910.

#romanovs #nicholas ii #alexandra feodorovna #olga nikolaevna #tatiana nikolaevna #maria nikolaevna #anastasia nikolaevna #prince george of battenberg #mountbatten #princess alice #relatives

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imperial-russia · 2 months

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What was Tsar Nicholas's relationship with other Grand Dukes? Which one did he not like and which ones did he greatly respect and admire?

Assuming you mean Nicholas II:

Among his uncles, Nicholas was not very fond of Vladimir Alexandrovich, because the latter had a very forceful personality and intimidated Nicholas. They also had a great conflict over Kyril´s marriage, which resulted in Vladimir shouting at Nicholas and even tearing off his epaulettes and throwing them into the Tsar´s face.

With Grand Dukes Sergei and Pavel Nicky had a good relationship, especially because he was very fond of their wives, but Sergei was later murdered and Pavel, after the death of his first wife, married a commoner without Nicholas´ permission, thus earning exile and the relationship was pretty much completely severed, up until the revolution.

His favourite uncle was Grand Duke Alexei. We know him as a person who loved life and was pretty much useless when it came to doing any meaningful work, either in politics or Navy, in which he had the post, but he was funny, always kind to Nicholas and pretty much an antithesis to Vladimir. Tsarevich Alexei was named after him.

When it came to cousins and other Grand Dukes, with most of them nicholas had good and even close relationships when he was younger, but as the time went by and the Imperial family closed off themselves (because of Alexei´s hemophilia and other issues) from the rest of the Romanovs, most of those relationships deteriorated. Mikhail Alexandrovich and Kdyril Vladimirovich married without permission and pretty much against the family law. Boris and Andrei Vladimirovichi were good for nothings with loose morals. Sandro had distinctly different political (and other) views (and frankly suffered from a big head, especially in later years).

The favourite relatives, besides Grand Duke Alexei, who died in 1905, were Grand Duke Dmitri Pavlovich, whom both Nicholas and Alexandra, for the longest time, treated with great love and warmth , until the moment he involved himself with Rasputin´s murder, after which he pretty much ceased to exist to Alexandra and Nicholas had him banished (which ironically saved his life). The other great favourite was grand Duke Konstantin Konstantinovich (KR). His whole family remained close to the Tsar, his daughters being friends with OTMA, his sons serving during the war at the front and in the headquarters.

#answered

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romanoffsbish · 2 years

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Our Last Dance

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Natasha x Fem! x Yelena (Adopted Siblings)

High School Sweethearts AU

Fluffy, but definitely Angst with no happy ending

Warnings: Sick!!! Reader, Drugs, Saying Goodbye, Grief, Cancer diagnosis, Car accident…

Smut: Fingering (W), Marking (R/W)

————————————————————

| Puny | Powerless | Weak |

The same set of words you’d repeatedly heard in your youth; every single time you were looked over by prospective parents, or picked upon by the other kids in The Red Room—the orphanage, it was just affirmed in your mind.

A tragic start doesn’t necessarily equate to a bad life though, because after five years of being alone in there you’d found your saving graces in the delinquent labeled pair of Russian’s that had been ruthlessly dropped off by another set of useless parents.

—————

Natalia Romanov—the buff redhead with piercing green eyes, she was twice your age, nearly double your size, and the older of the two girls; Yelena Belova—the quiet blonde, eyes of varying shades, she’d appeared lean under her monotone attire, but much to everyone’s shock she packed quite the punch.

They were blank faced when they’d arrived, their eyes full of mystery, and a deep rooted pain that’s expertly masked to the average onlooker. Silently they’d observed you, a shocking sense of pity consuming them when saw you being mistreated by all parties.

Though they felt bad they kept their distance, never engaging in such bullying tactics, but also regretfully turning a blind eye to it. It wasn’t until one of the boys—Brad, had attempted to pick on Yelena while Natasha was nowhere to be found that they took you in. Sure she could handle herself, but you weren’t aware of this, so when the irritating boy had approached her you’d immediately intercepted. He’d pulled on her braid, and in an act of childhood bravery you’d shoved the boy.

“Oh, if it isn’t little old Y/N, the unwanted one. Beat it would ya!”

Stuttering as you do, you responded to the boy,“Leave her alone Brad!,” puffing your tiny chest out to appear tough, but falling short as you really just looked beyond adorable.

Yelena had never heard your voice before, it was an equal match to your stature, you were soft spoken, there was also this innocence that carried your words, and in that moment the blonde felt it was her job to protect you from anything that could ever do you harm again. Natasha’s response was much the same as she saw what happened from the corner, and as the boy went to approach you she followed suit.

Yelena was quick to yank you behind her body, but before she could lay the smack down on him Natasha already had him up against the faded walls by the collar of his shirt.

“Do not touch them, big mistake if you do.” Her raspy accented voice filled the space around all of you, the threat glaringly obvious, and the fear it elicited even more so as the boy’s eyes widened and his body scurried away once his feet were back on the ground.

Natasha turned to face her sister, glancing over her shoulder at you with a spine chilling smirk. With relative ease she lifted you up by your armpits, and settled you on her hip, “Welcome to the pack malen'kiy volk.,” and from that day forward the words had reigned true. (Little wolf)

When a burly man, and his petite counterpart entered the orphanage one day it was clear to you that your found sisters were likely leaving. The mans’s loud, booming Russian accent a dead giveaway to you, plus the accompanying ‘Do you have any Russian girls for us?’ sealed it in. His wife had quickly slapped his arm, which immediately shut him up, then in her clearest way she’d said much to the same effect, but in a way less creepy way.

Natasha and Yelena had been playing a riveting game of ‘Arm Wrestling for chocolate,’ which was really just their way of taking candy from the cocky little boys while also knocking them down a few pegs. Neither of them had even noticed the couple at the front desk, but Yelena did however notice your saddened expression, and the sudden flow of tears soaking your pillow while your frail body lay atop the cot.

“Natasha.”

The redhead looked up to her sister while she effortlessly slammed the brunette boys hand against the table before popping his rations of chocolate into her mouth, and smirking once his sobs were audible. Then she realized it wasn’t him crying, but you, and the game was brought to an end.

“These two here come as a package deal, Natalia and Yelena, as Russian as they get.” The clerk mutters, annoyance at having to do her job clear as day, and the girls blink up at the couple in their way on their journey to you.

“They’re perfect! We take.” The man boasts, and both girls cringe when crumbs from his beard fall atop their shirts.

“Hi girls, I am Melina, and this is my pig of a husband Alexei.” She greets, hand reaching out to wipe them clean, but they collectively wince away from her touch.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you girls uncomfortable.”

“We will go with you, but only if Y/N comes.” Natasha commands, Yelena at her side firmly nodding while grabbing her sisters hand.

“Y/N? No, you two will go with whomever is willing to take you, they wanted strong Russian girls, and that’s what you are. There’s no negotiating in adoption, go collect your things.” The clerk dismisses them in a furious state, but neither girl even flinches, instead they continue to look passed her and at you who’d apparently fallen asleep.

Melina winces as the woman beside her speaks so poorly to them, clearly disregards you as not worthy, and this had intrigued the woman who’d once been in your same shoes.

“No, we wish to see this Y/N at once.” Melina announces, elbowing her husband before he could rebut the notion as they’d really only come here for one kid.

Yelena took her interest as a basis for trust, dropping her sisters hand she slips hers into her prospective mother’s, then without a word she guides her towards your sleeping form.

“This is Y/N, nash malen'kiy volk, we protect her, and she loves us.” Yelena announces, hand tenderly landing on your face, thumbs wiping the remnants of your tears away, and your eyes flutter open at the contact. (Our little wolf)

“Y/N, this Melina,—.”

Tears brim your eyes once more as you manage to whisper, “Your new mama… I know..,” over a lip that betrays you as it trembles.

“Our.” Natasha corrects you as she sits down on your cot, and protectively pulls you into her.

“Would you like that malen'kiy?” Melina coos, hands hesitantly reaching out for you, and Natasha allows her to pick you up, but her protective stance never falters. (Little one)

“You want to be my mama?” You whimper, and the older Russian guides your crying face into her neck, and sways you around soothingly.

“Da malen’kiy...” … ”We take all three.”

Everything went up for you after that day, Melina took you under her wing, and the both of you geeked out over her work at the lab, while your sisters much preferred engaging in the world of sports with Alexei. Melina worked closely with you over the years to improve your physical form, helpfully tailoring your diet without any type of restrictions, while also finding the perfect fitness regimen to aide you in defining your body as you wished.

Those same words now repeat in your mind though as you stare down at the paper in your hands, the one confirming the fear that’s been plaguing your mind for the last year, and after your interaction with Natasha last month you’d had no choice but to get said confirmation.

•~~~~~~~~~~~•—•~~~~~~~~~~~•

Tommy and Lily had been begging your wife and you to sign them up for soccer for months, but with the demands of your jobs you’d been unable to fulfill their requests until today. Work had slowed, and you finally had the energy to train with them, or so you thought you did, but now you’re not so sure.

The twins were running circles around you, and the amount of water breaks you needed had thrown you off. Sure, you hadn’t been to the gym in a couple months, but there’s no way in hell you were this bent out of shape. After only thirty minutes you were tapping out, taking a seat on the bleacher while the two continued to play some one on one.

Natasha had agreed to help you, something you’d forgotten about, but when she arrived she decided to lurk in the shadows for a bit. She’d wanted to give you some fun mommy bonding time before she wiped the field with you, but then she noticed you struggling, and all she felt was concerned at the sight of you. It was clear to her that you’d lost weight, an unnatural amount for only two months apart, and the light jog across the field shouldn’t have made you so winded, nor lightheaded as she clearly inferred from when you shakily sat down on the bleachers

‘Russian spy in another life’ is what your father always used to grumble when she’d catch him with cookie crumbs in his beard after he lied about finishing off the pack.

You were in your own world, laying flat on the bench with an arm draped over your eyes in the hopes that it would help to calm your beating heart. So you failed to notice your sister approaching, and there’s no way you’d hear her quiet footsteps, she’s of course classically trained to have a light step.

“Y/N/N…”

You jumped up, nearly falling off the bench with your hand clutching your chest, and Natasha rolled her eyes at your display.

“Natasha, when did you get here?”

“Four o’clock, as we agreed upon.”

“It’s five…” You said while skeptically eyeing her over your watch.

“I know, I’ve been observing.”

Something about her tone makes you uneasy, it’s not the playful one that accompanies a day with her niece and nephew.

“Y/N, we need to talk.”

There it is…

“Well the kids need us to train them, can it wait?”

Natasha’s firm hold on your shoulders keeps you sat, then she kneels in front of you as to not look so intimidating as she speaks.

“Something is wrong with you.”

You scoff, “Natasha, get over yourself, I’m fine.,” but still her hold is too tight, and as her words reign true you have no fight in you.

“We both know that’s not true… How long?”

A few tears slip down your cheek, then you take a shaky breath in before whispering your secret, “a little over a year…,” groaning as her nails dig into your shoulder.

“Why didn’t you—.”

“Keep it down Natalia, the kids don’t need to be unnecessarily spooked.”

“Why didn’t you say something?

“We all have things we don’t talk about…”

“Why not go to the doctors then?”

“I’m scared…”

“Don’t you get it? You should be scared! Look at all that you have to lose, how could you be so fucking selfish?”

“I’m sorry…”

Natasha chances a look back at the giggling kids, heart effectively breaking as the reality of it all dawns on her, then her anger settles as she takes in how broken you are up close.

“I know you are malen'kiy volk.” Natasha resigns, pulling your trembling form into her lap, and running a soothing hand down your back while being grateful your innocent children were so preoccupied.

“I’ll seek help..” You whisper against her chest, and she places a kiss to your forehead while maintaining her soothing.

•~~~~~~~~~~~•—•~~~~~~~~~~~•

Tears smudge the ink, but the words remain clear as day: Stage 4 Metastatic cancer of the Lungs, with tumors that have spread to the brain/heart.

Prognosis: Less than 6 months.

Treatment: Chemotherapy an option to prolong life expectancy, Immunotherapy, but the progression is too far along to be curative.

“Fuck…”

——

“Honey, I’m home!! Are the twins with you?”

Panic fills your weakened body at your wife’s call, your head currently hanging over the toilet bowl as you continue to vomit up stomach acid. What had started as a blinding headache rolled directly into waves of nausea, and now you were left to fight it off for the sake of your wife’s naivety to your month old diagnosis.

“They’re with Lena, she took them to that new soccer field for some much needed practice.” You manage to shout down the stairs, then swiftly shut the door to remain in your secret awhile longer, using the running shower to cover up the sounds of your retching and leaving Wanda none the wiser.

Wanda Maximoff—the woman who’d always loved you as you were, and the same one you promised you’d never leave behind…

She’s had it just as rough as you, if not more so, having lost both her parents in her early youth, to then losing her twin brother right before Junior year of high school. You had went from having nothing to something to everything, and she’d oppositely paralleled you.

Wanda’s obviously no stranger to loss, but having to tell her she’d soon be a widowed mother of two in her early thirties felt overtly cruel, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned in this life it’s that nothing is ever fair.

After your nausea subsided enough for you to get off the floor you shakily moved around, brushing your teeth before throwing yourself into bed, thoughts of finally telling everyone what’s going on tomorrow, absolutely dreading having to break the hearts of your family, but knowing it was absolutely the right thing to do.

——

Wanda was off to work before you’d even had a chance to enjoy your mug of tea, she’d kissed your cheek then lips as she told you she’d run the kids to school, hurrying them out the door the next instant, and leaving you behind a bit confused. She’d seemed rather jumpy, and if not for the debilitating headache encroaching your mind you’d have stopped her to check in.

Truth be told she’d known something was wrong with you for awhile now, but just the same as you she just didn’t want to believe it could be true, but after last week’s love making it’d been all but confirmed.

•~~~~~~~~~~~•—•~~~~~~~~~~~•

After an exhausting day in the office, where you no longer worked, but just stared at photos of your family while putting together a handful of painful goodbyes, and handling your final affairs all you’d wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep for a hundred years.

Upon entering your house though you realized your wife had other plans in mind, and you were too afraid to turn her away, because up until this point your sex life had been healthy. The house was cloaked in a layer of darkness, the playlist you’d curated together lightly playing, and your wife was cooking in nothing but her red silk robe as the kids were at a friends house.

Wanda and you usually took every free moment to make love, or occasionally engage in a quickie, because truth be told your wife was beyond beautiful and it was hard for either of you to keep your hands to yourself. So when she runs over to you, robe exposing to you her perfect physique you can’t fight the arousal pooling in your exhausted body.

“Welcome home my love.” She whispers against your lips, wasting no time she wraps her arms around your neck and slams her own to yours.

Your arms wrap around her waist, pulling her flush against your own body, and relishing in the feeling of having her close, but also being mindful of the way that your lungs ached beyond normalcy so you pulled back, allowing her lips to travel elsewhere while you tried to steady your breathing.

Wanda eventually pulled back, unknowingly appreciating the way your chest heaved over the simplest of her touches, and with quick hands the women shut the stove off then dragged your aching form up the stairs. Nimble hands were all over the place, ripping the buttons of your low cut flannel shirt clean off before pushing it all the way off your shoulders, and exposing your chest to her.

The want to be touched just wasn’t there for you anymore, but the need to please your wife would forever be, so before she could try to take you you flipped the script. Taking the initiative you swiftly spun her around, then threw her onto the bed, willfully ignoring the way your head pounded in the process as you removed the final pieces of her clothing.

You were into it, of course you were, but that didn’t make your movements less sluggish. Pumping your fingers into her at the only pace you could keep up with, shoving your face into her neck as you panted unusually hard, and successfully avoided the usual kiss that would leave you dangerously breathless.

Wanda was so consumed by the pleasure rolling through her body in the moment that she’d overlooked the way your lips had evaded hers, and how your normally healthy skin had lost its luster as her nails painfully dug into it, or the way that your bones were starting to protrude against the skin in ways they’d never done before.

With a few final expert curves, and with a delicious pressure applied to both her clit and pulse point she came crashing into her orgasm fairly hard. Walls clinging to your fingers for dear life as her entire body trembled beneath you, and as hot as it all was you couldn’t wait for it to be over. The alarm bells only began to ring for her when you’d rolled off of her in a overtly breathless manner.

Normally you’d be giddily anticipating another round, better yet you’d be begging for her to take you next, but your eyes were closed tight, and your breaths had all but evened out. Wanda finally noticed just how different you looked in this moment, it was truly clarifying for her, and in a way earth shattering.

“I love you Y/N… My beautiful, healthy wife..” She quietly whispers her falsehoods against your skin, lips gently landing on your own before she cuddles up to you in a desperate attempt to keep you close.

•~~~~~~~~~~~•—•~~~~~~~~~~~•

Truth is Wanda didn’t go to work, she actually hadn’t been going to work all week, she’d been dropping the kids at school, then driving herself to the library for researching purposes. Mistakenly hopeful that the diagnosis she’d stumbled upon when you were sleeping one afternoon last weekend could be reversed.

Since you couldn’t tell your wife and kids before they took off you decided to start with your found family instead, collecting all your paperwork you jumped into the car and drove the hour out to your parents farm, your sisters texts confirming their arrival popping up as you drove, and you took the extra long route for a few extra moments of peace.

Parking your car behind Natasha’s you gazed upon the quaint little home you’d experienced countless years of joy in, an uneasiness soon plaguing your already sick body as you slowly made your way to the door. It swung open before you could even reach for the knob and Yelena pulled you into her tight embrace, causing your manila envelope to hit the floor.

“Sorry Y/N/N, I’ll pick it up.”

Melina’s next to pull you into her embrace, arms encircling the entirety of you, and her heart immediately stills, a gut instinct telling her this isn’t natural, and so she pulls back to inspect you closely. Hands cup your cheeks, feeling how the natural chub had melted away, but before she could scold you for not eating enough Yelena’s voice cut through, “what is all of this?”

You sighed, falling forward into your dad before ushering everyone to sit on the couch. Natasha the last one to take a seat as she herself wanted to make sure you made it into your own, and the tension only thickened at the obvious concern.

“Natasha, you’re being awfully quiet.” Melina, ever the perceptive one points out, and you cut in to save your sister the unfair scolding.

“Mama, don’t start… I’m here because…”

“You have cancer.” She cuts you off, needing to say it aloud herself before you were to confirm it.

“Ha! That’s ludicrous, cancer doesn’t even run in the family! Y/N is fine, just a joke right?” Alexei humorously deflects in a panic, no one having the energy to remind the big oaf that genetically there’s no tie here, and you just smile sadly his way.

“Look, I have been—.”

“Fine, you’ve been fine. It simply isn’t true.” Yelena cuts you off next, somehow thinking that if you don’t say it, then it just can’t be true.

Natasha watches you sink into the couch you’re on, anger prominently coursing through her at the way your collective family is behaving. Not that she’d been any better two months ago when she yelled at you in the park, but even then she pulled herself together fast and was able to comfort you as you needed.

“It’s true.” Natasha proclaims, everyone’s eyes shifting to her and she grimaces at the varying shades of betrayal that befall upon her, Yelena’s the most painful of them all.

Yelena jumps up off the couch, finger jabbing into Natasha’s chest as she shrieks, “You knew! You fucking knew and didn’t tell me!” Alexei jumping in right behind her as he grumbled in Russian, and Melina just sat there in silence. You on the other hand felt as if you were about to vomit, with every rehearsal of this moment you’re not sure why you didn’t account for this.

While they continued to bicker back and forth your eyes were tightly shut, junked up lungs straining to pull the necessary oxygen into your body to keep it upright, and so you fell forward, crashing into the coffee table, glass overlay shattering under your weight.

Melina was first to jump into action, pushing you back into your seat, and watching fearfully as you coughed without an end in sight. Your weak hands pitifully clawed at your shirt, desperately trying to ground yourself, and everyone in the room was in a fit of tears as they helplessly watched you struggling.

Yelena was next to try and help, hand harshly slamming into your back, cringing at the far too detailed feeling of your spine under her. Natasha was the only one who managed to speak, whispering a lullaby she’d once used to sing to you in the hopes that psychology could break you from this fit of coughs.

After what felt like an hour, but was only five minutes you’d fallen out of the fit, and instead into a far less scary fit of wheezing. Everyone took their place back on the couch, each one overlooking a piece of paper you brought while you worked to just breathe again. Eyes slowly trailed up, one by one, to look for answers in your own lackluster set, you offered them a tight lipped smile as to avoid the grizzly sight that was your bloody teeth.

You took a necessary sip of water, the metallic taste continuing to linger, but you digressed.

“Mama, you first.”

“When did the symptoms start? Why—.”

“One at a time please; a little over a year ago, I noticed it was abnormally hard for me to breathe when Lena and I shared a joint on the roof at her 34th birthday party.”

Melina fixed a glare onto your blonde sister, then continued with her questions, most of them scientific in nature, and you’d answered them all while your family just nodded along as if they understood you two.

“Papa…”

“You going to be okay right? That was scary, but there’s medicine to fix you right?”

“No papa, I found out too late..”

Yelena cuts in,“How long?,” her reminiscent mask back up, but just as before you see right through to the hurt, and it’s like she’s that broken seven year old little girl in desperate need of love again, and you absolutely hate that you’ve put her in this predicament.

“Five months, give or take…”

After your daunting confession the room fell silent, everyone taking a moment to process exactly what you’d said. Yelena stood from her place on the couch and you were certain she was going to leave, but when she settles into your lap instead you sigh in relief.

“I’m so sorry Lena…”

“I’m sorry too…” She sobs against your chest, and you just hold her as tightly as you can, mumbling your ‘I love you’s’ over and over in the hopes that it’ll fix her broken heart, but knowing the phrase was nothing more than a place holder for what she really needed—time.

Natasha walked you out to the car, hand steadying you as you walked, and upon reaching the car she pulled you in for a bear hug, and you did your best to return it.

“Do you need me there for when you tell Wanda and the kids?”

“Thank you Natty, but no, I think it’s only fair I give them the same treatment…”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right… Call me if you need anything Y/N/N, even if it’s two am.”

You gasp, “Natasha Romanoff, did you just willingly allow me to call you at two am?”

“I never said I’d answer.” She teases right back, and when she relinquishes her hold on you she notices your glossy eyes and she leans forward to settle her forehead against yours.

“I love you Y/N…”

“I love you too Tasha.” You lightly sob, then move away to enter your car, handing over a box full of important documents to your unsuspecting sister, then quickly shoving the keys into the ignition.

“Drive safe…”

—

While driving back towards your house you were going over what it is you’d say to your dearly beloved, and your two greatest accomplishments, and no matter what you came up with it consistently fell flat.

How does one look their happy go lucky twelve year olds in the eye and tell them their mama isn’t going to be around for much longer?

Better yet, how do you tell the love of your life that she’s about to lose her life partner, and be left behind to finish raising your kids?

As you went to turn right onto your street a truck came barreling down the road, uncaring of the residential speed limits, and even more so of the stop sign they just ran right through. You’d tried to stop yourself from going further, but they still managed to clip the front of your car, sending you spinning until the drivers side of your car smashed into a telephone pole, and your thoughts were put on hold as darkness filled your already fleeting mind.

—

Wanda ran into the hospital like a chicken with its head cut off, your name shouted at the front desk lady who just stared at her for a moment. Wanda had already called your family, and your sisters were on the way, while your parents remained back promising instead to pick up the twins from school.

After a long bit of back and forth Wanda is ushered off to room 304 in the ICU, being told that in your state your body was too weak for any extraordinary measures, and she was gone before they could tell her to prepare to say her goodbyes.

Upon entering the room she feels as the wind is knocked out of her, faint beeping all that fills the space, and your once strong body lies there so unbelievably broken before her. The sobs wrack her body within an instant as she steps even closer, your eye’s straining to open, but eventually managing to do so as you will them to for the sake of your wife.

“Wanda…” Your frail hand reaches up to brush her tears away, eyes roaming the expanse of her distraught face, then your chapped lips smack together as you work to ask her for one final thing, “One last dance my love?”

•~~~~~~~~~~~•—•~~~~~~~~~~~•

Wanda was sat in the quad as she waited for the school day to start, pencil to the paper as she pretended to be interested in sketching, but really she was just waiting for you to get the nerve to finally approach her over staring. You’d been dancing around one another since a month into meeting one another sophomore year, and it was painful for your sisters to observe from afar, which is why Yelena was in the process of coaching you, and Natasha was sat in the car rubbing away a migraine.

“Don’t ask, tell her she’s going to prom with you, girls like it when you take control.”

“No, Y/N, for god’s sake don’t do that! Yelena get in the car… Y/N/N, just be yourself, and ask her—she’s literally not going to say no.”

“How do you know?”

“Trust me—the one who’s actually in a relationship, not doofus over here who’s still pining herself over the Bishop girl.”

“I’m playing hard to get..” Yelena grumbles, but pipes down at the glare Natasha sends.

Natasha winks at you as she tosses over your lunchbox, “Go get ‘em tiger,” is the last thing you hear before she tears off in her corvette. You take a steadying breath, your fingers reflexively tightening around your backpack straps before you make quick work of approaching the Sokovian of your dreams.

Wanda smiles behind her book, then drops into a rather neutral expression when you sit beside her, eyes trailing up at a leisurely pace as to not give way to her giddy anticipation.

“Hey Y/N/N…”

“Wands…” You cooly greet back, shyly smiling at her as your feet sway into the brick your sat atop of.

“So, I was actually wondering if you’d like to go to prom with me, as my date, but if you don’t want to that’s chill, we could even go as just friends, unless you already were going with someone but I think I’d know that…”

“No.”

Your heart skips a bit at her quick dismissal, “Oh, that’s fine too, I’m going to head to class.” Quickly jumping up you attempt to move away but Wanda’s hand spins you back around to face her, slowly she rises until your nose to nose.

“That’s not how you ask a girl to prom Y/N/N, try again…”

“Should I have just commanded you to go?” You whisper into the thin space between you.

She snorts, “absolutely not, come on, I know you can figure it out,” then she walks away leaving you to ponder what’s to be done.

—

After a tireless weekend spent using Yahoo and Google interchangeably for your research you fell back onto your bed in a huff having come up with nothing to asking a girl to prom. Your sisters were equally as stumped when you told them, but seeing as how neither had gone to their own prom it was a hopeless case to ask them for help anyways.

Then you had a sudden epiphany, grabbing your gel pens, and an unused board for one of your school projects you quickly got to work. Sending off a cryptic text to Wanda on your flip phone once you finished, just hoping that you weren’t making a fool of yourself. You then convinced Alexei to let you borrow the truck, and he only relinquished the keys after you painfully listened to his ill informed attempt at the ‘birds and the bees.’

Wanda had been sat by her phone all weekend waiting for you to try again, part of her now regretting ever saying no in fear that you’d just asked someone else out because it would be easier. She was sat on her aunt’s couch sketching a photo of you from memory when her phone buzzed, and the pencil dropped from her hand, then the sketchbook from her lap when she jumped up in a fit of squeals.

Wanda had changed into her signature outfit, a pastel pink colored skater skirt, with a dingy punk band t-shirt that was half tucked in, with the other half loosely hanging out. Her nails were painted jet black, fingers were covered in various rings, and her face was done up nice. A corresponding pink adorning her lips, cheeks, and eyelids, while the remainder of her eye makeup was black. Then after spritzing herself with the perfume she knew drove you wild she took off on her scooter.

You had decorated your fathers truck bed, settling a blanket down to make it less bleak, you then layered it with all of Wanda’s favorite snacks, in the center was a boombox playing off a mixed cd you’d burnt for her of ‘06, and this years greatest pop-punk hits.

Pacing the field of Westview’s finest park you can’t help but to hear your internal monologue screaming at you to drive away, but the not so distant crunching of dead grass beneath familiar combat boots tells you it’s too late. Your sweaty hands grab the board, and without much consideration for rehearsal you awkwardly lift the sign above your head, and wait for Wanda to hopefully appreciate the effort.

“We're going down, down in an earlier round

And sugar, we're going out dancing.

I'll be your number one with a corset.

A loaded god complex, fuck it and say yes..”

Wanda’s truly stunned at the spectacle before her, she’d hoped for you to just bring her flowers or candy, and to ask less nervously. Instead she got you pulling all the stops for her, and using her interests as a means for creativity, and it makes her want to burst into tears, while also pulling you in for a kiss.

Her silence terrified you, because if this wasn’t it, then you’d had no idea what else to do, so you took a deep breath in before trying again, “Wanda Maximoff, would you be interested in accompanying me to prom as my date?”

Wanda smiles at you, the cheeky one that usually is followed up by a ridiculous quip,“Well Y/N/N, I’m thinking I’ll have to go with yes, because going without you I know I’d be Miserable at Best…”

You giggle at her playing into your little musical play on words game, then you set the board down in the truck before you’re taking a confident step towards her, and continuing, “Yeah? We both know you’re not much into the business of misery…”

Wanda launches into your waiting arms, heart absolutely soaring at your adorable nature, and you just hold her close while your beaming smile never fades.

—

The night of the dance was magical, Wanda had stunned you when she showed up to your house in a modest red dress that fell to her knees, but still managed to accentuate her perfect physique in a deliciously tasteful way. You’d dressed up to match her in one of Natasha’s many suits, then Melina bombarded you both for a never ending flash of photos.

Once you’d entered the stuffy arena full of underage idiots you’d paved a way for your date and you to reach the punch table. Wanda watched in amusement as you spit the liquid back into the cup, because no matter how many times you’d accidentally sipped on your Russian father’s vodka you’d never get used to the bitter taste or the unwelcome burn.

“Jeezus, that was disgusting.” You whine, and Wanda notices how you’ve picked up on and adopted your blonde sisters accent for the most random of phrases.

“Yeah, totally.” She teases you, slamming the glass back in one fluid motion before dragging you off to a corner for the preferred privacy.

The music in the place is decent, definitely a nice blend between the mainstream and the classics, but you could tell Wanda was a bit underwhelmed, so you happily resorted to Plan B, pulling your iPod nano from your pocket, and watching as her eyes light up once you settle a earbud into her ear, and settle the device in your suit pocket after selecting the playlist of your choice: “Wanda <3”

The night is a blur of jumping around, and being absolutely bat shit crazy up until the moment your device dies, but the fun doesn’t end as Wanda drags you outside, and shares with you a special sort of greenery meant to ‘enlighten’ your mind, and within minutes you’ve dissolved into a giggling mess.

“Near, far, wherever you are…”

“Oh my gosh! Wanda, if you love me you’ll slow dance with me to this song, it’s one of my favorites!”

Wanda pays no mind to the words you said, true as they may be she’d never admit it while under the influence—it’s be too cheap, but she does extend her hand out for you to take, giggling wildly as you pull her back inside to dance amongst the sweaty student body. Fortunately, most of them found no interest in a song they couldn’t grind against each other to, so it was just the two of you and a handful of couple out there.

“Love can touch us one time

And last for a lifetime

And never let go 'til we're gone

Love was when I loved you

One true time I'd hold to

In my life, we'll always go on”

Your stare is intense as the lyrics loudly play, definitely fueled by the drugs, but more so by your unwavering affinity for the beautiful girl stood before you, the same one who’s grateful for the darkened room and her concealer for hiding her blushing face.

“You're here, there's nothing I fear

And I know that my heart will go on

We'll stay forever this way

You are safe in my heart and

My heart will go on and on”

When Wanda can no longer take the tension she lunges forward, lips passionately colliding with your own inexperienced pair, but in the weed fueled haze neither of you seem to care. Her lips are soft and taste faintly of vodka and strawberries, and you feel this pull to never let her go, hands falling to her hips to ensure it as the case, if not forever then for at least another minute.

Wanda is the one who breaks the kiss, realizing you’d forgotten that breathing is necessary, and she giggles wildly once you seem to have regained your cognition, but somehow managed to only mutter out a simple, “Wow…” before burying your face into the crook of her neck embarrassingly.

“I think I’ll keep you krasivaya… maybe we’ll make the greatest escape, leave this small town, and thank it for all the memories.”

Wanda smiles widely as you laugh uncontrollably against her, residing in that moment to never stop making you laugh for as long as you both shall live.

•~~~~~~~~~~~•—•~~~~~~~~~~~•

Wanda presses a kiss to your palm, then another to your fingertips as your hand falls from her face. Nodding almost violently she shakily begins to remove the hospital’s life sustaining IV’s and cords from your broken down body, absolutely hellbent on giving you what you want, and really, what she needs in your fleeting moments…

She cradled your slackening form to her chest, swaying you around in the dimly lit hospital room to the tune of ‘My Heart Will Go On’ as her tears fell without reserve, eyes tracing over every feature of yours in fear that she might one day forget the beauty that is your face, knowing though that it’s not likely to happen.

Wanda recounted her fondest memories of your life well spent together aloud for you to hear in your final moments, while staring down at your peaceful face, and wishing for time to undo its greatest mistake in taking you away. Time had always been so cruel to her, and she’d mistakenly thought she finally had succeeded in beating it at this twisted game. Apparently it was all a well planned out blanket of security bestowed upon her, fifteen years worth of love could never be enough for her, or for the children you brought into the world.

Wanda moves her face closer to your own when she sees you speaking in a hushed tone, “I love you guys so much, kiss the twins for me…” leaving your lips, and a whimper leaves her own when she realizes this is it, it’s all over…

Wanda whispers, "Until we meet again my love..." against your lips before gently kissing you through your last breath.

Natasha stood outside the hospital room with Yelena’s trembling form held close as she repeatedly whispered, “we still had five months,” as if that would change anything. Tears of her own fall down her cheeks when she sees the exact moment your chest no longer rises, and she realizes she now has to live in a world without your perfect laughter.

“Natasha, my fiercest protector, please take care of them, and while you’re at it yourself…” reads the final sentence of the crumpled up note in her hand, and the moment your wife fell to her knees she vowed to do as you wished.

“You can rest now malen’kiy volk…”

—————————————————————

6,914 Words

This is August Angst 😳

❤️ Kaitlyn 🥺

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