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levelsevenlaserlotus · 1 year

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Unsettle Me

Part 2

This features adult content! Minors dni 18+

AN: Thank you to everyone who helped me got 450 follows I’m screaming internally, you guys are literally the best. Anyway here’s a little part 2 of Unsettle Me because you guys were really receptive to it and I realized I was more attached to the story than I thought I was. Also this is my first time writing smut so please be kind ❤️

Paring: Dark!Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader

Warnings: Language, Stalking, Non Consensual Sex, Somnophilia, Violence, Obsessive Behavior and just general creepiness. Rape/Dubious Consent is featured in this chapter! Do not read if this makes you uncomfortable!

Summary: Someone’s been in your apartment, you know this because when you come home from work, dinners waiting for you.

Words: 1.6k

Masterlist Part 1

It’s 5:46 am when Natasha squeezes her way into your apartment through the tiny window over the kitchen sink. She’s quiet as she creeps forward to examine your sleeping form. Her body’s vibrating with want, she’s waited so long for this movement, to finally be able to touch you.

Your face is relaxed, making you seem younger and so damn innocent. Natasha brings her hand up to stroke your face, her fingers tracing your cheekbones up to your eyebrows and down the slope of your nose. You stir slightly before burrowing further into the covers and nuzzling your face into her hand.

Her mouth turns downward at the sight of the dark circles under your eyes, you were working too hard and she’d have to do something about it.

Placing a hand on your abdomen she guides you on to your back, your stir slightly only to relax when she shushes you.

Pulling the thick covers down she looks at your splayed legs, goosebumps pricking up at the chill of the air. Natasha crawls on to the bed, straddling over your unconscious body, her hands coming to rest on your hips.

The cotton panties your wearing annoys her, the temptation to rip them off was hard to pass off. Swallowing hard, she reminds herself that she had all the time in the world to use and abuse you.

She's a touch gentler as she pushes your sleep shirt up until she gets a good view of your breasts. Perky and just begging to be suckled.

The redhead frowns at your soft nipples, that just wouldn’t do. Her hands are quick to slide up and down your rib cage before coming up to cup your breasts. Leaning down she blows over them, watching with delight as they harden under her gaze.

She barely contains herself as she noses in between the valley of your breasts. The scent of your lotion and bodywash makes her dizzy with lust.

The warmth of your body and the sweet smell of you is almost too much for her to handle. Burning with desire, she licks the skin there, her thumbs coming up to rub at your nipples.

In your slumber you let out a quiet whine that has Natasha’s core clenching in anticipation. Shifting her position, her left leg moving to position her knee between your legs and to push up against your heat.

As soon as she’s readjusted, her mouth is back on your skin, licking the soft skin of your chest. Her fingers playing with your nipple as she kisses her way up to suck the other one.

The feeling of your breast in her mouth after weeks of waiting has Natasha soaking right through her panties. Patience, she reminds herself, but with every whimper you let out in your sleep has her control slipping.

Still, she couldn’t break you quite yet. Her tongue plays with your hardened nub, nipping it gently before moving to your other breast. It’s sloppy, your breast is slick with her saliva and rosy from her mouth's continuous abuse.

The only thing that has Natasha moving away from her assault on your chest is to redirect her attention to your core. Her hands fall instantly to your hips and over the elastic band of your thong. Cautious fingers drag the scrap of fabric down and off your legs.

The sight of your shaven pussy has her eyes darkening at all possibilities. Her hands come down possessively to further part your thighs. Your arousal, even in your sleep is obviously, you were practically dripping and it was all for her.

The need to possess you completely has her cupping your core. God, she could feel the heat coming from in between your legs. She lets out a low moan as her fingers dip into your slick.

Wet, you were so wet. She could fuck you right now into oblivion with her strap. What would your reaction be, waking up to her slamming into you repeatedly? Probably cum on the spot like the pathetic whore she knew you were.

She would make you beg for it, fuck you till you were brainless and begging to finishing. Not caring that she was forcing you to take her cock. Fuck, she’d make you beg only to deny you. It was tempting, so tempting but she had to restrain herself, there would be plenty of time for that later.

Swallowing, Natasha rubs her fingers through your folds, collecting your wetness only to bring her damp fingers up to her mouth to suck. Musky and so damn intoxicating.

Licking her lips, Natasha settled on her knees before plunging two fingers into you. You were a furnace, your walls hugging and fluttering around her fingers as you adjusted. As entranced as Natasha was watching you take her fingers, she kept a careful eye on your face for any signs that you might wake up.

Nothing, you had fully exhausted yourself the previous day. Poor baby, but nothing an orgasm couldn’t fix.

Her fingers move at a slow pace, thrusting deep into you and hitting that spongy spot that has your legs tensing in your sleep. She cants her wrist slightly so she can place her thumb over your throbbing clit.

You’re so soft and responsive under her, small whimpers escape your lips and your breathing has quickened.

You’re on the edge, she can tell, the way your hips rise to meet every one of her thrusts. And then you orgasm, it’s a glorious sight to behold. Your legs are shaking even in your sleep, your walls clenching around her fingers.

Natasha waits for your body to stop responding to her touch before sliding her fingers out of you. She’s quick to unbutton her jeans and slip her fingers, still slick with your arousal, in herself. It takes less than a minute for her to reach her peak, the act of fingering you, had her on the edge of climax.

She takes her time arranging your body back to where it was, slipping you thong back up your legs, pulling your shirt back down, hiding your chest from view.

It’s a little past 6 am before she leaves the warmth of your bed and body. With your alarm going off at 6:30 she’s cutting it close but she wanted your breakfast to still be hot by the time you woke up.

Her body still in that post-orgasm glow when she sees the mess she must have not noticed when she sneaked in.

Dirty dishes in the sink and tiny pieces of the ceramic plate that weren’t swept up. She glances at the clock, 6:12, she’d have to move quickly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of your alarm going off jerks you awake, you’re quick to press snooze and nestle back into bed when you remind the events of last night. Coming home, dinner already being made for you, the possibility that someone broke into your apartment.

You sit up so fast you see stars, your morning visions blurry and you have to rub the sleep out of your eyes before your studio apartment comes into focus.

Your IKEA bookcase is still pushed up against your front dirt, still acting as a barricade. Nothing seems to be out of place, still, you remain cautious.

You climb out of bed, you have class in an hour anyway and a much longer to-do list than before thanks to your not so friendly intruder.

You needed to see a locksmith, asap. Your bookcase worked fine when you were home but once you left? You couldn’t reposition it in front of your door once you left.

You should call your landlord, only you tried to avoid any communication with him. Hanker, the old man that made multiple passes at you, even tried to grope you at one point, was not someone you wanted to meet with.

You’re pulling on sweatpants when you feel cold, damp, arousal on the crotch of your panties. Confusion lights up inside of you, a sex dream following the events of last night made no sense.

You try to brush your nerves off, for all you knew it could be sweat or discharge. Or maybe you did have a sex dream, what did it matter.

You’re making your way over to the little kitchenette, ready to make yourself a cup of coffee when you see a familiar sight.

A ham and cheese omelet with a squiggle of sriracha, buttered toast and a handful of cut strawberries sit waiting for you. A steaming cup of coffee is already placed on the counter.

Steaming. Someone was here and recently, your eyes flick back to your front door, still barricaded by your bookcase.

Something wasn’t adding up, there was no way your intruder could’ve made it through the front door. Your front door opened into your apartment, there was no way to get in or out by the position of your bookshelf. No. Your intruder was getting in a different way.

Your studio apartment had two windows; one on the side of your bed that was less than a foot away from a brick wall of another apartment and the other just above your kitchen sink.

Your eyes wander to the window that stared out towards the alleyway behind your apartment building. Climbing on to the kitchen counter you take a closer look. You were easily forty feet up from the ground, and the wall was unscalable, at least you thought it was.

There was the dingy old fire escape but the stairs didn’t even reach your floor, something you complained about to your landlord when you first saw it. But even then it was at least a fifteen foot drop from the window ledge to the metal grate of the fire escape.

Nothing was adding up and your head couldn’t make sense of any of it. All you did know was that someone was in your apartment minutes before you woke up.

Taglist:

@tigerlillyruiz @thatonebrazilian @alfiikae @heheszunie @natashaswife4125 @brutallysour00

#wlw #natasha romanoff x reader #mcu #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #dark!nat #dark!natasha romanoff #dark!natasha romanoff x reader #dark!#stalker!natasha #stalker!natasha Romanoff #obsessive love #smut #wlw smut #minors dni #minors go away

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levelsevenlaserlotus · 1 year

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Unsettle Me

This contains adult content, minors dni 18+

AN: Trying something new here so please be kind ❤️ Might expand on this depending on whether or not you guys would be interested.

Pairings: Dark!Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader

Warnings: Language, Stalking, Non Consensual Sex, Somnophilia, Violence, Obsessive Behavior and just general creepiness.

Summary: Someone’s been in your apartment, you know this because when you come home from work, dinners waiting for you.

Words: 881

Masterlist Part 2

You’re still shivering and dripping water as you walk up the three flights of stairs to your shitty New York City apartment. You had just gotten back from a five-hour shift on top of your full load of college courses. The only thing you wanted to do was collapse into bed and not wake up for at least a week, but you still had to finish your essay on the Cold War.

You’re yawning as you shove the key into the keyhole in the door, and step inside, but the sight on your kitchen countertop has you alert at once. A piping hot plate of food sits at the ready. You shuffle closer to take in the food in front of you.

Rosemary and lemon chicken breast, grilled asparagus and crispy potatoes, and a bottle of red wine with a glass already poured for you. The food is hot, you can see the steam coming off the plate as if someone had cooked it minutes ago.

You stop, your heart beating wildly as you work over what this means. You didn’t see anyone coming down the stairs as you went up…was someone in your apartment now?

Your eyes flick around your studio apartment, looking for any potential hiding spots, the closet opposite your bed was open, the space too small for anyone to hide in any way. Your eyes fall to the floor, peering into the darkness under your bed, your hand reaching into your coat pocket to get a grip on your keys. Your hands are sweating and you fumble to get the keys into the spaces between your fingers the way you were taught.

You crouch down slowly as I’d you were approaching a wild animal which you very well could be and pull your phone out in your free hand, the light of the screen illuminating the dark space. Nothing but plastic storage containers with your winter clothing.

You sigh in relief but the tension in your body doesn't leave, someone was in your apartment recently too. You swallow hard, considering your options, you suppose you could call the police but what good would that do? You had no evidence other than the food on your kitchen counter, if anything they would think you were some stupid college kids trying to pull a prank.

You turn and study the door to your apartment, there was no physical indication that anyone had forced their way into your home. Whoever it was must have their key, a chill goes up your spine at the thought.

You end up dragging the small bookcase across the length of your apartment to barricade the front door. Having something physical in between you and any possible intruder made you breathe a little easier.

Turning back to your supposed dinner you take a closer look, picking up the knife and fork already set out and cutting into the chicken breast. The skin was brown and crispy, the inside juicy and cooked perfectly. Your mouth waters at the sight.

You take a closer look at the bottle of wine, the label was in French but you recognized the name from a few upscale restaurants. Expensive, four figures expensive and only sold by the bottle.

Grimacing at the sight before you and all it indicates you carry the plate over and scrape the food into the trash without a second thought. You turn and take the bottle of wine and the glass too, as you go to pour it down the drain the sight of dirty dishes in the sink stops you.

A small frying pan, already soaking, a few miscellaneous bowls and utensils wet and soapy, almost as if someone was in the middle of doing dishes before they were interrupted.

You don't notice your shaking until you hear the smash of the plate you were holding shatter against the hardwood floors. It takes another moment to realize your beading slightly, the red liquid oozing out of your finger fascinates you before it alarms you.

Stepping over the broken ceramic you fetch a tissue to tamper the blood dripping down the side of your thumb. Your body’s slower, less fluid as you sweep up the shattered remains of the plate, your eyes unable to leave the view of the front door.

You shower with the bathroom door ajar and the curtain open, the busted shower heads getting water all over the floor but you are too paranoid to care. You’ll clean it up later. You’re skin itchy as you scrub yourself with a loofah and rub lotion into your skin.

You’re no longer shaking as you clumsily prepare for bed, pulling an oversized t-shirt over your head and slipping on a cotton thong. You curl up on your side, your eyes trained on the door 20 feet away. You slip in and out of sleep, snapping awake before exhaustion pulls you back under.

Just two miles north of you, Natasha watches you through her computer screen, her face impassive as she watches you sleep. Annoyance flares up in her when she remembers you didn’t eat the dinner she made for you or anything else for that matter. She sighed, you barely took care of yourself but it was okay, that’s why she was there.

#natasha romanoff x reader #wlw #mcu #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #dark!#dark!natasha x reader #dark!natasha romanoff x reader #dark!natasha Romanoff #stalker!natasha #levelsevenlaserlotus #dark!nat #unsettle me

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levelsevenlaserlotus · 2 years

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When your favorite person on tumblr not only likes soemthing you wrote but fucking REBLOGS IT?? WHAT?? IS THIS EVEN REAL??!!

Holy Ground

Part 4

AN: Not sure if y’all are going to upset with me or not after reading this. But I’m really happy with how this turned out! Shout out to @sweetmissnothing for reading and revising!!

Paring: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, conversations around sex

Summary: When your babysitter cancels last minute, you have no choice but to bring you daughter with you to your college class. There, you daughter seems to catch the attention of your hot redhead professor.

Words: 3.6k

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

“Going to the zoo! Going to the zoo!” Stella sings, running excitedly all over the apartment as you chase after her to get her dressed. You had gotten yourself ready before going after your daughter.

“We can’t go to the zoo until you get dressed.” You tell her gently, you have to hold back a laugh as Stella bounds over, and collapses against you sighing as dramatically as she could. Placing your hands under her arms, you tickle her until she’s squirming in your hands. You place a kiss on her hairline, you pick her up and walk to her room to help her get dressed.

“Alright sweetheart, what do you want to wear?” You ask. Stella scrunches up her face, thinking. Whenever your daughter had a hard time making a decision, you found that letting her pick between two options made things a lot easier. This way she wasn’t going to the park in the hand knit sweater grandma got her, that was hand wash only, but still made her feel like she had a choice in her wardrobe.

“Do you want to wear pants or a skirt?”

“Dress.” The toddler giggles as if she’s getting away with something. You nod, pulling out a few different options and holding them up against her body as if you were a fashion consultant.

“Which dress do you want to wear Miss. Stella?” You put on your best game show voice, which makes Stella burst into laughter. She points her little hand at the blue dress with a skirt full of ruffles and secret pockets that she loved to put things in.

“That’s what I was thinking too.” You say, helping her out of her pajama top, and pull her head and arms through the correct holes. You’d let her dress herself, only the last time she insisted on dressing herself she came out of her room crying. She somehow managed to get her head stuck through one of the arm holes.

You find cream colored leggings for her to wear under her dress. Something that makes Stella whine the entire time.

“Stella it’s October, you’re going to be cold if you don’t wear them.” You lecture her, giving her a look that Wanda has dubbed, your mom face.

This placates her and she even lets you help her into her pink sneakers without a single complaint, when you know she’d rather wear flats. Something you immediately said no too. You’d be walking a lot today and you didn’t want to carry Stella the entire time because she didn’t wear the right shoes and her feet hurt.

You let her pick out a glittery headband with a flower on the side, and kiss her cheek in front of the mirror.

“Now that’s the prettiest princess I’ve ever seen.” You tell her honestly. As you double check the tote bag with everything you needed for the day your phone vibrates with a text.

Laura

I’m so sorry something came up so I can’t go to the zoo, but don’t worry Natasha and Lila will still be there.

You immediately text back that it was okay and not to worry, something close to happiness bubbles up inside of you thinking about being somewhat alone with Natasha.

“Ready to go little duck?” You ask, as you zip up Stella’s sweater, she nods her head and takes your offered hand.

You buckle Stella in her car seat and get the GPS routed to the zoo. It’s a pleasant 20 minute car ride, you had put in your ABBA’s greatest hits CD and the two of you sang along together. If there was one thing you wanted to instill in your daughter it was good music taste.

As you pull into a parking spot you check the time, 9:55 am, right on time. You walk with Stella to the front gate to wait for Natasha and Lila to meet you there. A few minutes later you see them walking up to you, tucking your phone into your bag, you go to greet them but it’s seem that Stella has you beat.

“Tasha! Lila!” Stella shouts, waving her hand in the air. Lila who was holding hands with her aunt leaves Natasha to go run up and hug Stella. Their blossoming friendship makes you smile and you give a shy wave to the approaching redhead.

“I hope you don’t mind that you’re pretty much stuck with me.” Natasha teases you lightly, the familiarity gives you butterflies.

“Ehh, there’s worse people I could be stuck with.” You shrug carelessly with the same familiarity.

“You guys are so slowwww.” Lila says impatiently, still holding hands with Stella. You turn to look at Natasha and roll your eyes, kids.

“Alright we’re coming.” You call out, grabbing a map from the ticket booth.

“Ready?”

“Yessss!” The two girls cheer in unison.

You and Natasha follow behind the girls keeping a careful eye on them, the last thing you needed was another lost kid. This gives you an opportunity to really converse with Natasha. You’re racking your head for something to say, the only good conversations you had with her involved others but that was not here nor there.

You’re wondering if you’re allowed to ask her about her college experience when she brings up the worst topic possible. English class.

“So have you started your easy on Beowulf and whether or not you believe him to be a war hero?” Natasha asks, looking at the lions laying in their enclosure. You’re grateful that she can’t see your face, because the only thing she’d see is hurt.

You stupidly thought that maybe you were getting somewhere, where you weren’t sure but you liked the shift in your relationship. Natasha’s question struck something deep inside of you, maybe it was the fact that maybe you thought she might see you as someone other than her student.

“Tasha, can you read?” Stella asks, tugging on Natasha’s sleeve. As she reads to Lila and Stella about the habitats of lions, you can’t help but wonder. Was bringing up your essay Natasha’s way of subtly reminding you that she was still your professor? Did she feel like you needed that reminder?

You find yourself getting close to choked up at the idea, stop this you tell yourself, you can be upset later not now, not in front of the kids, definitely not in front of Natasha.

“Well?” The redhead asks expectantly, tilting her head to the side in question.

You fumble for an answer, to be honest you had completely forgotten about the essay, you hadn’t even started, though you weren’t about to tell her that.

“Yeah.” You say carelessly. “I mean, I’m still working on it of course, but I -” You trail off when you see Natasha smirking. “What?”

“You haven’t even started, have you?” Natasha says knowingly.

“I - Well I mean, I -” You scramble to say something, but the woman just laughs and God, you can’t help but think that’s such beautiful sound.

“Don’t worry I’m not going to give you a lecture, don’t think of me as your professor, not when we’re outside the classroom.” She says.

“How should I think of you when we’re not in the classroom?” You dare to ask. You wanted, needed to know how you were supposed to see her, it was a tentative relationship. With Natasha being your professor, she needed the one who implemented the boundaries of whatever this was.

“Do you think you could think of me as a friend, outside of school, of course?” Natasha asks and you swear you see a hint of softness in her eyes. No, you couldn’t see her as just a friend, but if you weren’t allowed to see her as anything else, a friend would have to be enough.

“I already think of you as a friend.” You tell her with a smile, although it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“I’m honored, really.” Natasha says, giving you a smile back that makes a part of you want to die.

“Auntie Nat, giraffes!” Lila says as if she didn’t see the giraffes immediately the world was going to end.

“Duty calls.” You joke, the four of you make your way to see the giraffes.

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As you close the door to your bedroom, you collapse onto your bed completely boneless. Your feet ached and all you wanted to do was take a nap, but thanks to Natasha you were reminded of your Beowulf essay that was due next week. Not only that, but you really should take a shower and you had to make dinner.

You let out a loud groan into your bed covers, being an adult sucked. Pulling yourself together, you get up and trudge to the bathroom to take a shower.

You sigh as the hot water hits your back, the steam filling the bathroom and making you feel almost sleepy. You yawn as you scrub your body with your loofah, the smell of peonies and black current. Your mind wanders without your permission to what Natasha was doing. Was she showering the sweat and stress of the day as well? The thought was innocent enough until your mind began to conjure images of Natasha in the shower, naked, hot water pouring down her back. Fuck.

You turn around and fiddle with the shower faucet, until icy cold water hits your skin like hail, down your naked body. Well that helped, sort of.

As you towel dry, you sigh, it had been months since you had sex, even longer since you’d been in a relationship. It wasn’t that you preferred one night stands, it was just easier, no strings attached, and it scratched the itch when you were really desperate. Besides you were opposed to the idea of dating with a kid, that in itself introduced a whole other world of issues.

God you missed sex, Natasha was probably great in bed. Stop it, you tell yourself, you just took a cold shower. Normally you’d just stave off the worst of it with the pink, silicone vibrator that Wanda bought you as a joke. Although in the last couple weeks Stella had developed a habit of crawling into your bed during the night, something you loved but right now it was driving you insane.

However you were horny, like really horny, and you hadn’t been able to get any relief in nearly a month. You really just needed an hour with your vibrator to help take the edge off, but unless you wanted to scar your daughter for the rest of her life, you couldn’t do much.

You call Wanda as you rub lotion into your skin, she picks up immediately.

“I miss sex.” Is the first thing you say.

“Hello to you too.” Wanda says dryly.

“Sorry, it’s just been a while.” You rub your face tiredly, coffee, you needed coffee.

“Dry spell?” Wanda asks.

“You have no idea.” You reply, turning on the little coffee maker in your kitchen.

“How long?”

“Seven months.” You say, slightly embarrassed. You swear you hear Wanda choke in the background, but it’s muffled through the phone so you can’t tell.

“Seven months? Seriously? I haven’t gone that long without sex since I was 17.” Wanda says with disbelief in her voice.

“Don’t need to brag.” You bite back, but with enough levity in your voice that she knows you aren’t all that offended.

“What about barbie? Is she not keeping you good enough company?” Wanda asks after a moment.

Barbie was your vibrator Wanda named it, not you. She insisted on the name due to its bright pink color.

“Please don’t call it that, if anything it makes me more shameful. I thought the whole point of you getting me a vibrator, was that it was supposed to empower me or whatever.” You roll your eyes, pouring milk and creamer into your coffee.

“Barbie not enough?” Wanda says again and you know she’s smirking on her end of the phone.

“Barbie.” You say in a harsh tone “Has been out of commission for a while.”

“Out of commission? How? I thought you said you missed sex?” Wanda asks.

“I said I missed sex, not orgasms, they’re different things and besides…” You take a sip of your coffee, “Stella has been crawling into my bed almost every night for the past month. So I can’t do it, without running the risk of being caught.”

“So do it in the shower.” the Sokovian says easily. It’s a good idea in theory, one you already thought of and tried.

“Have you ever been around a toddler? They’re like koala bears, they follow you everywhere.” You shake your head even though she can’t see.

Just a few days ago you were in the toilet, and Stella sat right outside the door talking to you. Even when you told her you’d just be a minute, she stayed and complained when you took longer than her idea of a minute.

“Koala bears aren’t even bears, they’re marsupials.” Wanda says, then there’s a muffled sound that sounds like laughter.

“Whatever Wands, all I’m saying is that I need sex, badly.” You complain.

“So go to a bar and- TURN THAT DOWN, PIETRO! I’M ON THE PHONE- anyway sorry about that. Where was I? Oh right, if you miss sex so much, why don’t you just go have some?”

“If you’re drowning in the ocean why don’t you just swim?” You mock her warped sense logic.

“What I mean is you’re hot, if you want to get laid it’s not hard. People would trip over themselves to have sex with you.” Wanda says.

“Ugh. Maybe, but who would watch Stella? And how would I even explain to her why I wouldn’t be home?” You rant.

“Me. I’d watch her, and it’s not like you have to spend the night. Just get what you need and leave. You’d be home before midnight.” Wanda offers.

You think it for a moment, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. It would scratch the itch and you wouldn’t even miss breakfast. It was at least something to consider.

“Isn’t that a little trashy? Hooking up with someone and just leaving?” You question.

“Maybe a little, Pietro does it enough and he sleeps fine.” Wanda laughs.

“Maybe you’re right, I’ll think about it. Oh, before I forget, have you started that essay? The one on Beowulf?” You ask, plopping down on the couch with your laptop.

“Uh yeah, I actually just finished this morning, why?” There’s a pause. “Oh my god, you haven’t even started have you?” Wanda says accusingly.

“I’m working on it now.” You shrug sheepishly.

“Sure you are.”

“I am!” You say, defensively.

“You still want to go to that Italian restaurant? The one by that new pilates studio? We can even invite Pietro.” Wanda says and you vaguely remember rain checking on her.

You agree easily and even start working on your essay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hi, I have a reservation.” You say to the hostess, your eyes flickering around the room. Dim lighting, leaving the little candles on each table to illuminate the restaurant. It has that first date ambiance about it.

“Of course, what name is it under?” The hostess asks, flipping through a clipboard on the stand.

“Maximoff.”

“Found it, right this way.,” She says and you follow her through the restaurant.

“Pietro!” You say when you spot him a few tables away, smiling you come over to give him a hug.

“Ugh it’s been forever. Where’s Wanda? Did she go to the bathroom?” You ask, looking around the room for the familiar redhead.

“She had a last minute emergency, and couldn’t make it.” Pietro says looking apologetic but you wave him off.

“Don’t worry about it.” You shrug out of your jacket and sit down.

“You look nice.”

You blush a bit at the compliment, and then feel pathetic for the rosiness of your cheeks. Has it really been that long since you’d gotten validation, that Pietro telling you that you looked nice was enough to make you blush? God, you really were pathetic.

To your credit you had dressed up a bit, opting to wear a dress instead of jeans. A little black dress with heels, you even put on a bit of makeup. You looked nice, nice enough that Peter even thought you had a date.

Dinner’s wonderful, it has been so long since you’d been out with friends, even if you wished Wanda had been there it was wonderful. Conversation came easy and the food was great. You’re about to suggest dessert when you see her.

It would be impossible to miss Natasha, sitting a mere two tables away facing your direction. For a while you just gape at her, unable to believe it was her. Stop staring at her, you think and manage to force yourself to focus on Pietro, who was giving you a strange look.

“That’s Natasha, Ms. Romanoff. It’s complicated.” You tell him. You expect a flurry of questions from him but instead he just nods thoughtfully.

You sneak a look at Natasha who was sitting with another woman who had blonde hair. Natasha, like you was dressed up, a form fitting wrap dress that hugged her chest.

You take a moment to appreciate the view, her dress showed off more of her chest than you had ever seen and a healthy amount of cleavage, but still you wanted more.

You watched as she laughed at something the blonde had said, watched her lips move to form a smile. Her plump, perfect, kissable lips. You can’t help but think that if she kissed you, her red lipstick would certainly leave a mark.

“Do you want to share the tiramisu?” Pietro asks you, unbothered by the fact that your attention was elsewhere.

“Definitely.” You tell him and go right back to staring at Natasha.

Then the unthinkable happens, you make eye contact. It’s brief and lasts for less than a second but it was there. You’re now openly staring at her, trying to gauge her reaction, but her face was marble and unreadable. Her eyes flickering to Pietro and the wine glasses before you and then she’s pushing out of her chair and walking away.

You scramble after her, all common sense leaving your body as you follow after her. You stand outside the bathroom door, shifting your weight from foot to foot. Natasha obviously wanted space and got you chasing after her. The right thing to do would be walking back to your seat, instead you push open the door and see Natasha leaning against the sink, her face in her hands.

“You okay?” You want to smack yourself over the head for that one, she obviously isn’t okay or she wouldn’t be here. “Sorry that was a stupid question.” You say, your fingers playing with a loose thread on the skirt of your dress.

Natasha looks up, sniffling a little bit, looking more vulnerable than you’ve ever seen her. She laughs weakly and shakes her head, pushing herself off the bathroom counter.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m your friend, you don’t have to lie to me.” You sound so sincere, you almost believe yourself.

“That’s the problem, I don’t want to -” She cuts herself off, running her hand through her hair.

“You don’t want to do what?” You gently prod her, you want her to open up to you, confide in you the way you want to confide in her.

“I don’t want to be your friend.”

And just like that all the air feels like it’s been sucked out of the room. You feel like you’ve been physically struck, the hurt you feel at her words is so completely foreign to you. Tears pick at your eyes and your face goes red hot.

“Okay then.” You say softly, unable to hide the hurt in your voice.

“Wait- it’s not like that.” Natasha laughs unnaturally “We can’t be friends, I can’t just be friends with you.”

You stop at that, could it be that, maybe just maybe that Natasha felt similarly?

“I’m sorry I interrupted your date.” Natasha says after a couple beats and turns away to walk out of the bathroom door. You have to stop her, she can’t leave, not before you explain.

“Wait! Natasha!” You grab her wrist tightly. “Wanda!” You call out desperately.

She turns around, looking hurt but also confused and you rush to speak before she can leave again.

“The guy I’m with, he’s Wanda’s brother. We’re not dating, our relationship has always been strictly platonic.” You hope that this will be enough for her to stop and listen, give you enough time to explain that you wanted her as much as you thought she might want you back. “Natasha, please.” You beg.

Natasha takes a step forward and another one until you can feel her breath. Your grip on her wrist loosens, until you drop it all together. She looks at you, her dark green eyes studying your face. Finally she whispers.

“You’re my student.”

“Yes.” You say.

“And I’m your professor.”

“Yes.” You have an idea on where this was going but you hope that you’re wrong. That she won’t pull away from you.

“Which is why this can’t happen.”

“No.” Your voice hardens, it wasn’t fair, Natasha was the first person to ever make you feel this way, and now she was walking away.

“I’m sorry.” Natasha says and she really does look sorry.

“Wait! If you’re, if you’re going to walk away then at least tell me, that it wasn’t just me. That you feel it too.” You swallow hard, tears blurring your vision.

Natasha walks over to you again and places a gentle kiss on your cheek and whispers into your ear.

“It wasn’t just you, I promise”

Taglist: @tashakink @sweetmissnothing @alfiikae @lizzieolsen89 @sojo145 @jediluka @namesduntmatter @msromanoffswife @lorsstar1st @splatalia-jumpanova @wandanatvoid @toouncreativetofindagoodusername @alwaysgoodnight @wandanatblogs @macaroni-with-hotsause @romanoffjohansson @rysnwilder @alianovnam @adi06lena @t00manyfand0ms @orangelife@powerfultaylor @toouncreativeforausername @smileyromanoff @heidithriel @blackwidowismylove @silver-lotus @marvelshark @ripofflizzie @hallefuckinlujah @mrswidowjohansson @emril-osvigne @natashalovers @natty-taffy

#screaming and throwing up

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levelsevenlaserlotus · 2 years

Text

Holy Ground

Part 7

AN: So um this is awkward, I promise I’m not dead or anything, shit just kinda hit that fan for me. But now that I’m back I’m not going anywhere. Also shoutout to the lovely @sweetmissnothing for reviewing and revising as always.

Parings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: When your babysitter cancels last minute you have no choice but to bring you daughter with you to your college class. There, your daughter seems to catch the attention of your hot redhead professor.

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Words: 3.5k

“Mommy! Mommy! Look what Peter bought me!” Stella sings cheerfully, skipping up to you, right past Peter who unlocked the door.

It couldn’t have been more than 40 minutes between Jack’s impromptu visit and Stella’s arrival at home. If Jack had decided to stick around, you shudder at the thought.

“You’re not looking!” Stella whined, jumping up and down impatiently.

“Sorry honey, what did you want to show me?” You ask, shaking your head to clear it.

“Peter bought me an otter stuffy. ” Stella says, pulling the brown stuffed animal from under her arm to show you.

Great, as if your daughter needed another stuffed animal. Frankly it was a miracle Stella could still sleep in her bed with all those plushies piled high.

“Wow! That was really nice of him, what do we say when people do nice things for us?” You ask gently.

Stella gives you a toothy smile, turns to Peter and gives him a high pitched: “Thank you!”

Peter smiles back at her, ruffling her hair gently.

“Of course, whatcha gonna name it?”

“Ottie.” Stella says giggling happily, hugging the stuffed otter closer to her chest.

“That’s a perfect name for it.” You tell her distractedly.

Stella’s eyes sparkle under the praise before running off with Ottie, presumably to introduce him to her other stuffed friends.

“You didn’t have to.” You tell Peter who just shakes his head and shrugs.

“I know but I wanted to.” You roll your eyes.

“The last thing that girl needs is more toys, but really thank you.”

“Of course, don’t worry about it!” Peter says brightly, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Peter, I don’t mean to say this to be rude but, do you have friends?” You ask gently, you didn’t know of many teenagers who would spend their weekends hanging out with a toddler, regardless of how cute they were.

“What? What makes you say that?” Peter asks almost nervously.

“Peter, you babysit at least a couple times a week, half of the time you don’t even let me pay, that’s not exactly normal for kids your age. You should be going to parties and hanging out with friends.” You lecture him.

“I like babysitting!” Peter protests, his voice going higher than normal. “And I have friends, I have Ned!”

“Okay, okay. I get it. I just don’t want you missing out on anything because you're babysitting.” You tell the teenager gently.

“I’m not missing out on much, trust me. Drugs and sex probably.” Peter says, playing with the ends of his sleeves.

“Well I’m hopefully enough of an example of what happens when you have sex as a teenager.” You laugh.

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, no girls even look my way.” Peter says, hands in his pockets looking somewhat tense.

“Well I wouldn’t worry, you're 14 so you have plenty of time to meet and kiss girls.” You reassure him.

“Maybe.” Peter says, looking down with a slight blush on his cheeks. You think about teasing the young boy but you end up saving him from the embarrassment.

After saying goodbye to Peter you start on dinner. Your mind is so full of thoughts that you burn the chicken breasts you were making. Oh well, there’s always takeout.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re careful to wait until you're sure Stella’s asleep before you call to unleash your rage upon your mother.

Your relationship with your mother was tremulous at best, difficult and strained. Your relationship with your father was barely better than the former.

You were raised in the traditional Christian household. You went to church every Sunday, prayed before each meal and even promised your virginity to your husband when you were 12.

It should have been no surprise to anyone the sort of person you became outside of the house. Your mother would’ve had a stroke if she knew how many times you sneaked out or sneaked people inside the house. The parties, pills and people that you sought out might have caused an early death if she had known.

When she learned of your pregnancy, she almost did die, inside at least. Her worst fear for you came true, a teen mom, an unmarried teen mom at that. The only thing worse in her mind was probably you being gay, because somehow an unexpected teen pregnancy was not much worse than your sexuality.

You never did come out to either of your parents, waiting them out just seemed like a safer option. So you stayed in the closet, kissed girls at parties and never told a soul. You always thought you’d have time to fully explore your sexuality in college.

Then you got pregnant, and suddenly college wasn’t so certain. After the rage of the storm your mother put upon you, she got oddly calm. There were options, not abortion obviously, because God says life starts at conception, but marriage. If you and Jack got married before you started to show then at least your mother could continue to put up the front that you saved yourself for marriage. It didn’t matter that you weren’t sure if you ever even wanted to get married, or how even if you did Jack was the last person you’d tie yourself to.

Jack wasn’t ever your boyfriend, just some senior in your class that had a car and daddy’s credit card. It didn’t matter that you had no romantic feelings for him, according to your mother if you liked him enough to have sex with him that was enough to marry him. That ideology led you to again question your own parents' marriage.

You weren’t exactly kicked out but when you refused to even consider marrying Jack, you left for a while. Staying at a couple of friends' houses, conveniently leaving out the part where you were pregnant.

You were almost in your second trimester before your father called you to come back home. Going as far as lying to you, insisting that your mother wanted you home as much as he did. What was closer to the truth, you’d suspected, was that your mother couldn’t continue to keep up the lie that you had never left in the first place.

You did return, your friends started asking too many questions and truthfully you missed home. Almost turned right back around when it became clear that your mother was less than enthusiastic about your return. Wanting nothing to do with you, didn’t even want you home but your father put his foot down, it was his house, his rules.

It was still a hellish experience, your mother barely acknowledged your existence and if she did it was to shame you for your choices. As for your pregnancy? It might have not ever existed, the unspoken rule was that you were to never speak of it. You would tell your mother you were going out for lunch or a walk, when everyone knew you really had an ultrasound appointment. You mother never wanted to talk about it? Fine with you.

Her anger and disappointment only grew with your pregnancy, once you hit four months and hiding your belly was getting difficult, your mother was soon ostracized from her group of church moms. All of them were apparently terrified that teen pregnancy was contagious.

This disappointment carried over, your own mother refusing to be in the delivery room, choosing instead to go on a weekend getaway to the spa due to the stress. Your father on the other hand was unable to leave work, or so he said. You gave birth alone, with no one but the doctors and nurses to witness.

You resented them at first, then you saw her, tiny and so incredibly vulnerable and you realized you didn’t want them there. Their cruelty and disappointment had no place in such a joyous moment. No place near something so innocent and perfect.

It was just the two of you, soft and cozy, untouchable by the rest of the world at that moment. You knew that your daughter would be enough for you, but would you be enough for her? You made a silent promise to yourself that you would try to be enough for your daughter.

Stella became the only family you wanted or would ever need, you knew that right when you saw those big eyes staring into yours.

You lived at home for a while, you were in no shape to return to school, and you were terrified at even the idea of leaving Stella all alone. Because that’s what she would be without you, all alone.

You missed prom and graduation, your friends went dress shopping without you and your diploma was mailed to your house.

That summer before your first year of college was the hardest, your mother absent and your father at work.

You spent most of your time in your bedroom, Stella cuddled up on your bare chest and for hours you would watch her breathe.

Things got better when you went off to college, your relationship with your parents got better with distance. Your parents met Stella a few times and it wasn’t a horrible experience. While your parents never called you, when you did call a few times a month they always answered. Communication was limited and as a result better than ever.

You never did ask either of them for anything, but every month without fail your father sent a couple thousand. Maybe it was out of guilt but that money practically paid for your apartment’s rent so you were grateful.

Things were better, you made a family in Wanda and Pietro, even Peter, who became the little brother you always wanted.

And now because of your mother, someone was trying to rip your found family apart. Jack would never be the family Stella needed, never be enough for her. Jack wasn’t her family, you were, Wanda, Pietro and Peter were.

And her family was growing, Laura and Clint were the aunt and uncle Stella never had. Cooper, Lila and little baby Natheinel were the best cousins Stella could ever have.

Stella was happy, and loved, so loved by everyone. Jack couldn’t just walk in and try to rip her away from everything she’s ever known. And you would never let that happen.

On the seventh ring your mother picks up and you don’t hesitate to curse her out.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

“That is no way to greet your own mother.” Your mother scolds in a harsh tone. Your finger’s grip tightens around the phone, your anger bubbling up into the surface.

“Yes, well you’re hardly acting like one so.” You say coolly. You can imagine her at home, pouring a glass of wine, settled into bed when you call her. Completely indifferent and unfazed by the destruction she sent your way.

“That’s certainly an attitude you’ve got there, I would hope you don’t speak to Stella in that way”. Your mother says in a condescending voice. Yeah right, as if you were going to let your mother of all people tell you how to mother your own child.

“Keep Stella out of this, you’ve already done enough.” You say harshly, not even trying to control your tone. Too enraged to even think straight.

“I don’t know what you're talking about!” Your mother says, apparently horrified at your accusation.

“Don’t lie to me, you know exactly what you did.” The audacity of this woman, to lie to your face and play ignorant.

“I don’t like the tone you're using with me, young lady. You think just because you're an adult now that you can talk to me however you like. I think you forget that I’m your mother and am entitled to your respect.” Your mother lectures, cold and unwavering.

“You’ve never had my respect to begin with.” You bite back, maybe it was cruel, but it wasn’t untrue. You stopped, you didn’t call to fight over nothing. “I know that you gave Jack my address.” You tell her. “And don’t try to deny it, I know because he told me, right after he showed up demanding custody.”

“Jack? I’m not familiar with that name.” You mother says dismissively, as if you were telling her the weather or the time.

“Jack? Jack Birch? As in the guy who knocked your daughter up? Don’t tell me you forgot about him? That would be pretty embarrassing, especially considering the fact that you wanted me to marry him.”

“Oh him? Yes I remember him, he was a very nice man, husband material.” Your mother says, as if she’s trying to set you up with a boy from church like she used to.

“I’m sorry, are you deaf? Did you forget the part where he one, showed up at my door uninvited? With, might I add the address I gave you. And- “ You're cut off.

“If you didn’t want me giving out your address you should have just said something.”

“I should have said something? Me! Maybe you shouldn’t give out my home address to the asshole who impregnated me and ran!” You’re raising your voice now, unable to control the anger within your body.

“Honey, don’t you think you're overreacting?” Leave it to your mother to be patronizing as ever.

“I’m the one who’s overreacting? Don’t you think you're underreacting? I could lose custody of Stella because of you! And you’re telling me that I’m overreacting? God you’re so fucking full of it!” You feel like a teenager again as you argue with her.

“Don’t use God's name in vain, you’ll go to hell for that.” Is all that your mother has to say.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? That’s what your focusing on? Seriously?”

“You know, it’s very hard to have a mature, adult conversation when someone isn’t acting like an adult.” Your mother says coldly.

“Ahh yes, someone”.

“Whatever, if you want to act like a petulant child, be my guest”. Your mother says, still in that patronizing tone.

“The only one here who's acting like a child is you”. It’s amazing really, how long you and your mother could go in circles, screaming at one another.

“Which is why you're the one raising her voice”.

“Just fucking admit it for fucks sake! I know you reached out to Jack and I know you gave him my address”. Your voice is rising with every minute and you're incredibly close to waking up Stella but you can’t just hold it in.

“Is it really that bad if I did? Stella doesn't have a father- ”You cut her off

“No, she doesn’t, she has me.”

“And that will never be enough! You know it, I know it, and your father knows it”. Your mother finally screams from her end.

Your mother was a cruel woman, unkind comments weren’t a rare occasion, and yet this was the worst thing she’s ever said to you, the worst thing anyone could say to you.

Tearing through the walls of yourself and ripping at your biggest insecurity, that you would never be enough for your daughter, that the family you gave Stella would never be enough.

“Stop pretending like you care about the well-being of my daughter, stop acting like you act in anyone else’s interest other than your own. Stop interfering with my life!” If Stella hadn’t already woken up to the sound of you yelling at your mother, she definitely would be up now.

“You are such a spoiled child, do you have any idea how much I’ve given up for you?” Your mother hisses back, as if you owed her for the life she gave you.

Your anger boils over and you explode at her.

“God dammit! You are such a narcissist bitch.”

And with that you hang up the phone and throw it across the room, your entire body vibrating with anger. You wanted to punch someone, or scream or both.

“Mommy?” It’s Stella’s voice, still sleepy, that cuts through your anger. You turn and sees your Stella standing in the doorway, lit up by the hallway light, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and clutching Ottie in her hand.

“Hi, sweet pea, did I wake you up? Momma’s sorry.” You tell her almost sheepishly. You hated the person you became around your mother and tonight was no exception. You lost your temper where Stella could hear you, and you felt like the worst mother in the world for it.

“Was yelling.” Stella says, climbing her way onto your bed, and practically falling into the soft covers.

“I know and I’m sorry baby, I promise it won’t happen again.” You say, the guilt makes you feel sick to your stomach.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like saying sorry, or had an overly difficult time in admitting fault, but when it came to your daughter it came at a great pain.

The idea that there were things that you would do, mistakes that you would make that would cause her pain or distress. That your little girl would stop seeing you as her hero, as someone who could fix everything and anything. It was a painful realization at first when you came to learn that you would never be a perfect mother.

“Why?”

You look down to see those big eyes, sleepy and curious, asking why you were yelling. Something you faced so much during your childhood, you swore Stella’s wouldn’t be like that.

You sigh and try to figure out how the hell to explain why you were yelling in a way that wasn’t too big, complicated or adult to explain.

“I was on the phone with someone who hurt me a lot, she said a lot of unkind things to me and it really hurt my feelings. And what do we do when we’re hurt or in pain?”

“We hurt others.” Stella responds, looking more alert and sitting up. You brush some hair behind her ears and smile sadly.

“Not always but when we get hurt sometimes we hurt others, and it’s not right but sometimes it happens. That’s what happened to mommy today, okay?” You ask, your fingers stroking her hair in a way that always soothes her.

“Are you going to say sowy?” Stella asks. This makes you still, your fingers stopping their movements. No, you weren’t going to apologize, your mother certainly didn’t deserve one.

“Yeah, I am”. You lie, and you hate it, hate lying unnecessarily to her. The lies you told your daughter were limited to those involving Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. But these lies, these lies you hated even if it was easier.

“Okay.” Stella says sleepily, burrowing down into your covers. You sigh, normally you’d let her stay and sleep curled up with you but tonight was different. Tonight you needed to be alone, to study, to cry maybe, and hopefully figure out what the hell you were going to do about Jack.

“Do you want me to carry you to your room?” You ask, rubbing her back before patting her bottom gently.

“Can’t stay?” Stella mumbles out, still burrowed into your covers, her little fists holding the sheets, unwilling to move.

“Not tonight, tomorrow I promise”, you tell her guilt at turning down her request for comfort in favor of your own needs, isn’t that what your own mother would do. Just the thought makes your insides turn inside out in discomfort.

“Pweas?”

Stella’s voice tended to develop more of a lisp when sleepy or upset, something that was unbelievably adorable and was very good at making you give jn to any requests made.

“Tomorrow, I promise, we can have a little sleepover, okay? We can eat snacks and watch a movie, just not tonight, I’m sorry baby.” It was painful, turning her away, because you knew one day she wouldn’t want to climb into bed with you and cling to you so tight. But you needed tonight for yourself, and however you decided to cope, you wanted to be alone for that.

“Pwomise?”

“I pinky promise.” You offer her your pinky, which she curls into your extending one.

“Okay.”

“Come on love bug, time for bed.” You pull her onto your chest before scooting out of bed, holding her tight and taking a deep inhale of that strawberry shampoo.

You walk the short distance to her bedroom, and place her on the bed gently, letting her crawl under the cover, snuggling into Ottie and the rest of her stuffed friends.

“Sweet dreams honey, I love you so much.” You tuck her into bed, kiss her forehead and pull the covers up under her chin.

“Love you too”.

You stay until she falls asleep, sitting on your knees and just watching her breathe, just like you did when she was just a baby.

When her breath evens out and she coos softly in her sleep you finally stand up, ready to leave, but before you do you give her one last kiss on her forehead.

“I promise I won’t let him take you away from me.”

Taglist: @tashakink @alfiikae @lizzieolsen89 @msromanoffswife @lorsstar1st @splatalia-jumpanova @alwaysgoodnight @simp-erformarvelwomen @macaroni-with-hotsause @romanoffjohansson @alianovnam @adi06lena @t00manyfand0ms @orangelifestyle @powerfultaylor @toouncreativeforausername @heidithriel @blackwidowismylove @silver-lotus @marvelshark @ripofflizzie @hallefuckinlujah @mrswidowjohansson @emril-osvigne @natashalovers @natty-taffy @padmeswife @karmasgxrl @lilbredsticc @s1ut4nat @wizardofstories @get-the-fuck-outta-here @kathleenmikaelson @incorrectlycorrectfun @fxckmiup @wildnightuniverse @how-to-disappearr @jayxxace @maggieromanov @helloalycia @when-wolves-howl @cantthinkofagood-name @lyak12 @ho0ope-maximo0off @luna-maximoff-22 @romanoffsgal @kawaiitoga @notmeellaannyy @xxromanoffxx

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